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flowerywoso · 2 days ago

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the babysitter || irene paredes x reader

Summary: You've had a thing for Irene ever since you started babysitting for her. When she comes home after a night out with the team, you realize that your feelings might not be as one-sided as you thought they were. Pairing: Irene Paredes x Reader Words: 3,992 Warnings: 🔞, smut with plot Notes: I haven't written anything in quite awhile (I honestly wasn't planning on writing ever again but here we are), so this might be a little rough! Please don't hesitate to let me know (politely, please!) if you notice any horrible grammatical errors or notes to myself that I somehow forgot to take out. Do not post my works on Ao3. And I am horrible at titles.

You peek your head into the room once more, carefully easing the door open and, just as quickly, shut, once you determine that the toddler is definitely still asleep. It’s a habit you adopted after your friends began to have their own children, and one you’ve maintained for the kids you babysit. Tiptoeing back down the hallway, making sure to keep your footfalls as quiet as you can, you plop back down on the sofa, settling into the corner and taking a sip of your sparkling water, grabbing your novel and flipping it back open as you wait for the boy’s mother to return home.

It’s not that much later, only long enough for you to finish a single chapter of your book, before you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, announcing Irene’s return from the Barcelona squad’s night out. You don’t get up from the couch, merely setting your novel aside and uncrossing your legs, letting one dangle off the cushions.

She enters the room quietly, the low heels she’d left the apartment in abandoned on the mat by the front door so they don’t click on the wood floors, and when you look up you can see the flush on her face. You're not sure if it's the result of the chilly evening air or of her night out, but either way it's enough to make you swallow around a lump in your throat. The top and pants she'd left the house in are just as enticing now as they were several hours ago, and you wonder as she walks further into the apartment how you manage to stay sane around her.

“Hola,” she says quietly, setting her purse down in the center of the coffee table and taking a seat beside you on the sofa, sighing in relief as she relaxes into the cushions after a long night out. Your heart, as it so often does in the presence of the older woman, skips a beat as she comes nearer to you.

“How was everything?”

“All good,” you reply, beginning to recount your evening with Mateo. As always, the toddler had been easy, listening to you as well as one could expect a two-year-old to, and had fallen asleep on the sofa halfway through an episode of Bluey, only stirring briefly when you carried him to bed.

“He ate most of his dinner,” you relay with a smile, shaking your head at the memory of how the toddler had wrinkled his nose at the "yucky green" you'd provided for him, far more enthusiastic about the special treat that was the chicken nuggets unearthed from the freezer. “We had a bit of a struggle with the veggies, but other than that he was a perfect angel, like always.”

Your words bring a smile to the older woman’s face, and you can’t help but stop in your tracks for a moment, transfixed by the way her lips perk upwards, faint lines around her eyes becoming visible. You’ve seen her take an extra minute in the bathroom more than once after you arrive in the evenings, trying to conceal the bags beneath her eyes or the smile lines beginning to form at the corners, but you think that each and every part of her face is a work of art.

You had no idea, when you first started babysitting for her, just how quickly your feelings for the older woman would grow. In the stolen moments at the beginning and end of the nights, before one of you walks out the door, you've learned more and more about Irene Paredes the person, not just the footballer, and something about her kept drawing you further and further in. You couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but you knew that you wanted her.

“Did you have a good night?”

Irene shrugs, shaking her head with a fond smile as she tells you about the Barcelona squad’s night out. She had mostly stayed on the sidelines alongside the other older players, keeping an eye on the girls closer to your own age as they enjoyed themselves, but Pina and Cata had managed to coax her and Alexia into having a drink and dance before she had excused herself.

The thought of Irene on the dance floor makes your heart pound, imagination beginning to run wild.

You’ve never been to Manuela’s, but from the way you’ve heard Irene describe it, there's absolutely no shortage of beautiful women. You know from the bits of information she’s given you that the Barcelona girls normally stick with one another, even while they’re out, but you’ve never been able to help yourself from wondering if any of the beautiful girls who frequent the club have tempted her enough that she’s taken one of them to her bed.

It's that thought, the unpleasant idea of her tangled between the sheets with a nameless, faceless girl from the club that makes your chest hurt. Before you fully notice what you're doing, you open your mouth and begin to speak, some jumbled mixture of thoughts spilling from between your traitorous lips.

"I mean if... If you ever wanted to stay out later... If someone..."

You trail off, clamping your lips shut as you realize just how inappropriate what you're implying is. You cringe, cursing yourself as you watch for her reaction, wait for her to get up off the couch and hand you your bags, let you know that now might be a good time for you to go home.

But she doesn't. Instead, all the older woman does is fix you with a questioning gaze, seemingly losing herself in thought for a moment.

She’s seated closer to you than she normally would be, than she ever has been before, and for a moment you wonder if she can hear your heart as it pounds in your chest, speeding up as she enters your space. You aren’t sure if it’s your imagination, the way her eyes seem to have fixed on you, tracing the details of your flushing face, eyes following your bottom lip as you nervously run your teeth over it.

“No,” she says at last. “None of the girls there have ever been who I wanted.”

Something about the word there catches your attention as it leaves her mouth, and you're certain that you must be losing your mind. Because there's no way, no way in the world that she wants you the way you want her.

The older woman reaches out and brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and you’re fairly certain that you’ve stopped breathing. Her hand pauses by your left cheek, which you're absolutely certain is flushing redder than the cap on her cherry flavored chapstick.

And suddenly, before you can even fully process the fact that her soft but strong hands are cupping your scarlet cheeks, the older woman is leaning forward and pressing her lips to yours.

You must have imagined this moment a thousand times, but never in your wildest dreams had you imagined it would actually come true. The older woman’s mouth is soft but insistent against your own, exploring your lips with hers, and every coherent thought you’ve ever had is a distant memory as you move with her, kissing her back.

Kissing Irene is even better than you imagined it would be - and you could fill a planner with the amount of times you’ve imagined this exact scenario. Her mouth is gentle, but there’s an edge to her kiss that contains a promise, the knowledge that she’s capable of being anything but.

When your lips finally part, after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, you let out a little gasp, pupils blown wide as Irene stares into your eyes, both of you trying to process what has just happened. Even though she’s the one who kissed you first, Irene seems just as shocked as you are. But, behind her wide eyes is the same feeling you know she can easily spot in your own.

Desire.

“I… Fuck.”

You’re the one who leans forward this time, lips pressing against the older woman’s, the faint flavor of alcohol on her lips mixed with a hint of cherry from the chapstick you’ve seen her spread across her mouth more than once. The taste of her lips is intoxicating, and you can feel it going straight between your legs.

This kiss is deeper than the first, your arms wrapping around her strong shoulders to pull her closer, wanting to feel her body against your own. You part momentarily, gasping for air and only managing a brief breath before she’s kissing you again, every movement raising the stakes. You whine as her lips meet yours once more, hands coming to rest on your hips, pulling you closer. The older woman uses her own lips to pry yours open, her claiming tongue slipping into your mouth and beginning to explore further.

You let her take control of the kiss without protest, the arousal between your thighs intensifying exponentially with every second her body spends this close to your own.

“Fuck,” she gasps, breaking away from your lips only long enough to grunt in your ear. “Fuck, I want you so badly.”

All you can do is nod, shaking your head up and down in agreement, because you don’t think you’ve ever wanted another person this badly in your entire life.

“Irene,” you whine, pressing impossibly closer to her. “Please.”

“Can I touch you?”

You’re nodding again before the question has even fully left her lips, and the older woman’s pupils go dark with how eager she is for you. She kisses you again, her football player’s strength showing as she pushes you backward onto the sofa, hands working their way up under your shirt. She doesn’t bother with the clasp of your bra, instead slipping her hands beneath the fabric to cup your breasts. Separating her lips from yours with a low groan, Irene immediately begins tracing a path over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a further wave of shivers up and down your spine. You moan quietly, remembering that you two aren’t alone in the apartment, but tilt your head anyway, granting her better access to your throat.

Advantage is rapidly taken, the Barcelona player letting a hint of teeth scrape across the delicate flesh of your throat as she rolls one of your nipples between her fingers, moaning quietly at the way you arch, pressing your chest further into her touch.

Your nipples aren’t normally this sensitive, but something about the way Irene rolls and tugs at them makes the two buds feel as if they’re direct links to your most sensitive spot. Her touch is magical, and all you want is more.

As if the older woman can read your mind, the hand not busy exploring your chest slides further down, slipping under your black leggings and making you gasp, bringing a hand up to muffle your own sounds as long fingers begin to rub at your pussy over your panties.

There’s far too much fabric between the two of you, and every thread feels like a cage. You need it off, need the last bits of separation between your heat and her touch gone, now.

“Off,” Irene commands and, needing the barrier gone just as badly as you do, she doesn’t wait for you to obey before she’s hooking her own fingers in the waistband of your leggings, yanking them down over your legs. Your panties are removed in the same motion, both pieces of fabric coming to rest at your ankles. You try to kick them fully off, but only manage to completely free one leg before the older woman is pushing her way between your thighs, eagerly beginning to explore your bare pussy.

Her experience is clear from the first touch of her slender fingers against your naked heat, and you can’t help but press closer, spreading your legs further to give her better access. The older woman draws in a sharp breath as she circles your clit gently with one finger, exploring, watching for your reactions, the others gathering the rapidly accumulating wetness at your entrance. Irene's touch is electric, and the older woman finds herself becoming rapidly obsessed with the way your clit seems to plead for her touch.

With two of her fingers, Irene traces the outline of your pussy, hyper aware of just how wet you are, how your hole is begging silently for her fingers inside as she continues to rub your clit.

You let your eyes fall shut, eagerly anticipating just how good it will feel when the fingers you can sense lingering just shy of your entrance finally slide home, burying themselves inside your welcoming cunt. You’re practically pulsing with it, with how badly you need her inside, need to know just how she’ll fill you, what previously unknown spots inside the tips of her long fingers will be able to brush.

“Where do you want my fingers, bebita?”

You whine, shifting your hips in an attempt to get even closer to her, to get her to slide her fingers into your throbbing heat. The digits, wet from your own slick, only withdraw further away from your needy hole, and you nearly sob with how badly you need the older woman, need her touch.

Obvious as it may be, this nonverbal expression of how desperate you are for her to take you isn’t enough to satisfy the older woman, and she rubs your inner thigh soothingly.

“Use your words, baby,” she coaxes. “Tell me where you need my fingers.”

The idea of using your words seems borderline impossible at the moment, your brain simply too overwhelmed with the reality of just how close her fingers are to slipping inside, but you can tell that you won’t get what you need until you do.

“My pussy,” you manage to whine, trying to stay as quiet as possible while pulsing with the need for her. “Please, Irene, I need your fingers in my cunt.”

Your words, base and simple as they are, are enough to get you what you need, and when Irene finally slides her fingers home, you can’t conceal the moan that tears its way free from your throat. You’re wet enough that the stretch of going from zero to two fingers inside your cunt brings nothing but pleasure, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from moaning aloud when you feel the ridges of her fingers settle against your walls, the older woman pausing for a moment to let you adjust to the feeling of her digits inside.

Irene has to swallow a wrecked noise of her own as she finally slides her fingers inside your soaking pussy, the sensation of your silky walls against her skin sending her brain into overdrive. The sound of your voice, desperation tinging your whispers as you plead for her to move, to fuck you, is absolute music to her ears, and she doesn’t hesitate to comply with the enticing request.

Her pace is slow at first as she starts to move, the older woman eagerly exploring every curve and contour of your cunt, leaking around her fingers. It’s so warm and inviting, and the older woman has no idea how she’s lasted this long without knowing what feel like inside.

Once she’s sure you’ve fully adjusted to the stretch of her digits inside of you, Irene speeds up her thrusts, curling her fingers in search of the most sensitive spots hidden inside your pretty cunt.

It’s clear when she finds what she’s looking for, because your cunt clenches down around her fingers and you squeeze your pretty eyes shut as pleasure rocks your body.

“Oh,” she says, voice a whisper that tickles your ear and makes you shudder happily. “Is that where you need me?”

You nod desperately, the entirety of your reality reduced to the sensation of her fingers against the sensitive tissue inside you, stroking it insistently as her thumb comes to brush against your swollen clit. As she fucks you with her fingers, the older woman tests out different motions on your bud with her thumb, searching for the pattern and pace to take what’s left of your breath away.

You can’t help but let out a cry as she presses a little harder, circling your needy clit at just the right angle. Irene quickly presses her lips to yours again, reminding you that you’re not alone in the apartment.

“Shh,” the older woman says, swallowing your noises with her own tongue, collecting each one. “You’ve still gotta be quiet for me, bebita.”

You nod in understanding, kissing her back desperately, bringing a hand up to tangle in her hair. You can be quiet, no matter how good it feels, you can be quiet, just so long as she doesn’t stop what she’s doing between your legs. Irene chuckles against your lips, redoubling her efforts between your legs. Her talented fingers thrust in and out of your pussy, each time hitting the spot that makes you see stars.

“That’s it, baby,” she whispers, lips right beside your ear. “That’s it, take it for me. Take it, just like that.”

You toss your head back, more than willing to comply. Every cell of your body feels like it’s on fire, and you want nothing more than for the burning to consume you completely.

Your orgasm arrives without warning, Irene’s thumb on your swollen clit combined with her talented fingers inside your cunt sending you crashing over the edge with a fury you haven’t felt in a long time. You have to bite down on your lip to keep in your sounds as your it overwhelms you, nails digging into Irene’s bare shoulders. You can feel the older woman’s smile as she kisses your neck, fingers still moving gently inside you, working you through your climax, helping you ride it for as long as you can.

You shudder, aftershocks still shaking your body as you begin to come down from your peak. She slides her fingers out and you bite down on your kiss-swollen lip to keep yourself from whining at the loss. It takes another minute before you're able to gather yourself, fully opening your eyes and taking in the sight of the gorgeous older woman above you.

Irene presses another kiss to your lips, this one gentle, and you can feel the smile on her face as you give a final shudder, sitting up and leaning into her.

"How was that, bebita?"

"Fucking perfect," you reply, unable to conceal a grin of your own as you note how flushed her face still is. Knowing that touching you has her seemingly almost as worked up as you are sends a thrill through your body and you reach for the button of her jeans, aiming to return the favor, only for the same pair of hands that had just brought you to such an incredible orgasm to push yours down, Irene’s lips brushing against your forehead.

“Don’t you worry about me, baby,” she says, and you feel your heart sink with sudden disappointment.

“Are you sure?”

Irene wraps an arm around you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, clearly oblivious to the way your shoulders sink.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I promise. Don’t worry about me.”

You blush, wanting to protest that getting to touch her would be just about the furthest thing away from a worry- dream or fantasy come to life would be a more accurate description- but a sudden wave of shyness overcomes you, the whiplash of going from the high of your orgasm to the valley of being denied an opportunity to make Irene feel as good as she’s just made you feel making your throat close up.

“O-Oh,” you say quietly. “Okay. I just…”

You trail off, not sure what to say to that. It feels like, without meaning to or realizing what she’s done, the Barcelona defender has just tossed a bucket of ice water over you.

“I… I guess I should head home then,” you say quietly, trying not to let her hear the hurt in your voice, reaching down and pulling your leggings back up over your calves and thighs until they rest around your middle. Your panties aren’t quite soaked, for the pure fact that they had been around your ankles soon after her lips first met yours, but they’re still wet enough that putting them back on isn’t exactly comfortable.

And more than that, you don’t want to leave. Your body is still purring with the aftermath of your orgasm, the last thing you want to do right now is leave her apartment and walk the few blocks home to your own. The route between your apartment and Irene’s is one you know well, lit with plenty of streetlamps and well-frequented on a Saturday night, so any anxiety you might feel can be connected purely to leaving her after what’s just happened, without being certain where you stand.

Irene opens her mouth and you pause with your hand on the knob, waiting, hoping that she’ll say something, offer her bed to share for the night.

“Let me know when you get home safe,” she says quietly, and you can’t help the way your chest clenches with a strange sort of pain. You hadn’t really expected her to offer for you to stay, not with the amount of eyes that could be watching someone like her at any given moment, but you still can’t help but wish she had.

You nod in response to her question, clutching your bag close to your side as you shut the door behind yourself, beginning the short walk home.

...

“Fuck.”

The second the door shuts behind you, the defender wishes she could throw it open again and call you back in.

She had wanted to, especially after watching you come apart under her touch, seeing how pretty you looked as your orgasm overwhelmed you. The words had been on the tip of her tongue, but you had beaten her to it, reaching for the door handle and exiling yourself before she could even offer, and she hadn’t offered any protests.

Peeking in the door, ensuring that Mateo is still safe and sound in his bed, the Barcelona player tiptoes quietly down the hall, two doors down, and pushes her own door open and shut behind her.

As she pulls off her top, letting it fall to the floor, quickly followed by her pants and bra, Irene curses herself, pulling back the covers and slipping into the too-big bed on her own. It feels cold compared to the contrast of your warm body against her own, and her chest pangs with the regret of not asking you to stay the night.

Back in your own apartment, you slide beneath your own covers, mind racing at a million miles an hour.

No matter how your chest might ache at the fact that you’re here, alone in your own bed, the memory of the older woman’s lips on yours, of her talented fingers bringing you to orgasm right there on the sofa, of muffling your moans in her shoulder, still sends a familiar jolt of electricity between your thighs. With a soft whine, you reach for your the bedside drawer where you keep your vibrator, turning it up before pressing it against your still-swollen clit.

Blocks away, Irene is doing the same, quietly gasping out a much-needed orgasm with your name on her lips, the memory of your mouth on hers and your silken flesh beneath her fingertips sending her over the edge.

As the older woman drifts off into an uneasy slumber, the space beside her conspicuously empty, she knows that, now she's had you once, she won't ever be able to get enough.

#woso x reader #woso x y/n #woso imagine #woso fanfics #irene paredes x reader #barca femini x reader #woso smut

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sansaorgana · 2 days ago

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— FOREVER BOUND

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Maia!Reader

SUMMARY — You and Mairon were created together by Eru and ever since you remained nearly inseparable. He chose to follow Melkor but you stayed loyal to your gods. Even though he was believed to be slain, you meet your soulmate once again many years later in Númenor where you serve the Valar by helping Tar-Míriel with your counsel.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I started writing this fic like two weeks ago but I got distracted in the meantime with different ideas 🤧 (Y/N) is used here as the Reader's "real" name, therefore I gave her human form in Númenor a name and that is Maneth, which apparently means Departed Spirit. The dynamic between Sauron and the Reader is lowkey inspired by that quote from Wuthering Heights – He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. Also, I was very fixated on making the short prologue of this fic sound like it was taken from The Silmarillion but it was a challenge, especially when English is not my first language, so yeah, I have to admit I used "the chat" a bit to help me in the beginning (and only there) 🙈. It didn't write even a single sentence for me, though, it only helped me with reshaping the phrases to sound more like the way I wanted them to be. I have never used AI to help me write my fics, so I feel a bit weird with it but I think the prologue sounds great now, so I decided to keep it this way. However, I wanted to admit to it here because I would feel bad otherwise. Once more – "the chat" did not write even a single sentence for me. I only needed its help with finding better sounding phrases to express what I have already written all by myself and it was only for the short prologue of the story. I didn't put any warnings but I think that – if you squint – it can have a bit of a twincest vibe...? 😳 At least I thought so while writing some scenes but maybe it's just my messed up mind going into such places 🙈 The fic is quite long but I didn't want to divide this one into two parts.

WORD COUNT — 7,930

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

FOREVER BOUND

Together were they fashioned by the thought of Eru Ilúvatar, Mairon and (Y/N), kindred spirits among the Maiar, and thus were their fates entwined. Mairon was drawn to Aulë the Smith, whose lore of crafting and forging he learned with eager mind, while (Y/N) was taken under the care of Varda Elentári, the Queen of Stars, and to her was revealed the mysteries of light and the heavens.

In those days of ancient bliss, when the first flowers were made to bloom, Mairon would gather their blossoms for (Y/N), and together they would abide for hours in fields unmarred by shadow. Often, he would craft jewels of wondrous beauty, offering them to her in token of his affection. Yet his most treasured gift to her was a ring, fair and unmarred, crafted in the purity of his early days, before his spirit turned to darker counsel.

It is said that (Y/N) wore that ring ever upon her hand, and that when Varda revealed to her the art of setting stars in the firmament, she bestowed the first star of her own making with the name «Mairon», that his light might endure forever.

In the later days, when Mairon fell to the shadow and allied himself with Melkor, he sought ever to draw (Y/N) to his side, weaving words of guile and repentance. Many times did he deceive her, and she, moved by their bond, hoped he might yet be redeemed. Yet she held fast to the Valar, and her faith remained unbroken.

Mairon's descent brought sorrow unending to (Y/N), and often she pleaded with the Valar to grant him mercy. Yet Varda would have her no longer as a disciple, for the brightness of her spirit had dimmed, and her heart clung still to one who had been corrupted. Then Nienna, She Who Weeps, took pity upon (Y/N) and took her into her care, teaching her of endurance and grief. And it was Nienna who spoke in favour of Mairon when Melkor, feigning humility, sought pardon from the Valar, for she understood well the love that bound (Y/N) to him.

Yet no reunion came to pass, for Mairon fled from the wrath of the Valar, and he vanished into the shadows of the world, so that some claimed him slain. The star that bore his name faded from the heavens, and it is told that (Y/N) wept until her tears filled a lake in The Southlands, and thus was the dark and bitter Lake Núrnen brought into being, a testament to her sorrow.

You were sent to Númenor to aid the Queen Regent with your counsel. Míriel suspected that you were no ordinary human being but she knew better than to ask too many questions. Very quickly you were promoted in her council, which was visibly making Ar-Pharazôn uneasy and suspicious of you because you had shown up out of nowhere one day, posing to be a noble Lady from Middle-earth… but who truly knew where you were coming from?

The fate of this beautiful island given to the ancestors of these people was uncertain, though. It was teetering between glory and ruin. You were there to make sure they would choose the right path when the time of difficult decisions would come.

When you heard that one of the captains brought a She-Elf to Númenor that he had found in an open sea, you knew immediately that it was no coincidence. It was surely the very beginning of something new. Something exciting and worrying, too.

The time you had already spent in Númenor was enough for you to fall in love with the island and its people. The Queen Regent was truly your friend and you hoped for nothing else but for this realm’s happiness.

You were standing next to Míriel when Captain Elendil walked two castaways inside the hall. She-Elf you recognised immediately because it was Lady Galadriel. She, however, could not recognise you because of your disguise. At the sight of a dirty, ragged common man walking beside her, you felt an odd shiver going down your spine.

You looked down, nervously, when he looked up to meet your gaze. Your fingers busied themselves with a ring that decorated your finger for long centuries now – it would never leave you, no matter what form you were in.

You could not understand why some random human was making you feel such odd sensations as if the air between you two vibrated and caused disruption inside the room.

“No one kneels in Númenor,” the Queen Regent announced to Lady Galadriel and her new friend when they attempted to do so.

Out of curiosity that you seemed not to be able to stop, you looked up again when the man did the same. Your eyes met and you could barely contain yourself because the soul trapped inside the form you were in was about to explode.

He was no ordinary human being and you wondered if Lady Galadriel knew about it.

Who could it be, though? The Valar would not send any help for you here without warning you beforehand. Even if they would, no other Maia was able to make you feel this extraordinary way.

No other Maia except for one.

The fingers fidgeting with your ring squeezed it tighter at the memory of Mairon. He had been long gone now and all that seemed to be left of him was that ring. Not even his star shone bright in the night sky anymore.

The only part of Mairon that still remained was not that ring, though. It was you – he would forever live inside of you like you had lived inside of him and like part of you had died the day he had been slain.

“Speak, Elf. Name thyself,” Míriel ordered Lady Galadriel and Galadriel’s eyes found yours. She tilted her head but decided not to comment although now you were certain that she could sense what kind of spirit you were.

“Galadriel of the Noldor,” she introduced herself. “Daughter of the Golden House of Finarfin. Commander of the Northern Armies of High King Gil-Galad.”

The man she came with looked at her with furrowed brows before deciding to introduce himself as well.

“Halbrand,” he said. “Of The Southlands,” he added.

“A man and an Elf, together?” You asked as you approached the Queen Regent.

“Circumstances arose that–” The man named Halbrand began but Galadriel did not allow him to finish.

“We are companions by chance. Met on the open sea. Your captain here, delivered us from certain death,” she looked at Elendil. “All we ask is that Númenor continue his mercy and grant us ship’s passage to Middle-earth.”

The crowd gathered inside the hall began to chatter between each other. It was uncommon to see an Elf in Númenor these days and Galadriel was far from humble. Her demands were not making anyone here happy and you could sense that.

The only man whose aura you could not sense was him again – the filthy commoner.

Míriel exchanged a meaningful look with Ar-Pharazôn before her cousin spoke.

“It’s been generations since a ship of Númenor was permitted to make such a journey on an Elf’s behalf,” he told the Elf, harshly.

You wondered how Galadriel would accept the fact that here, in Númenor, she was not an authority to anyone and her presence was barely intimidating. You knew her heart was of a pure kind but it was no mystery amongst the Valar, the Maiar and the Elves that she also needed to be humbled very often but such occasions were quite rare.

“It is because of the Elves that you were given this island,” she reminded but such words only worsened her situation. “Surely you can spare a few planks and a rudder.”

Míriel looked behind to stare at your face, visibly searching for your counsel. You shook your head slightly to let her know that you did not think following Galadriel’s orders was a good idea. It did not escape Ar-Pharazôn’s eye as he shot you a deadly glance. He hated the influence you had over his cousin.

“Our ancestors were not given anything,” the Queen Regent smiled softly at Galadriel as she walked down the stairs to approach the Elf and her human companion. “They paid for this isle with the blood of their kin.”

“What the Elf means–” Halbrand tried to save the situation.

“Then if blood be the price of passage, I will pay it,” Galadriel interrupted him again and you sighed softly. “But one way or another, I will depart.”

One of your tasks in Númenor was to help rebuild the friendship between the humans of this island and the Elves. Lady Galadriel was definitely not helping you.

“I welcome you to try,” Míriel nodded.

“I have no need of your welcome,” Galadriel continued with her rude remarks and Halbrand looked at her with panic in his eyes before looking back at the guards by the doors.

“And you are quickly wearing out yours,” the Queen Regent warned Galadriel. “Guards,” she called for them.

“My friends!” Halbrand exclaimed, getting everyone’s attention and you despised it.

You despised it because your weak human form struggled once more to contain your trembling spirit. You were scared that you would be this island’s doom yourself any given moment if you suddenly erupted as if you were a volcano. Your fingers began to tremble and you lowered your gaze, pretending to be humble.

“It seems to me that our leaving presents some complications,” Halbrand pointed out. “Perhaps it’d be better if we stayed–”

“Stayed?!” Galadriel barked at him.

“Long enough, good Queen, to give you and your advisors adequate time to weigh our request,” he looked up at you.

You were holding your gaze lowered but you knew somehow that he was staring at you. You could feel his eyes piercing you through because the way he was staring was not of an ordinary kind. He was not glancing at your flesh but at your soul. You felt as if you were naked in front of him and as if there was nobody else inside this palace except for you two.

The ring around your finger seemed to get heavier all of the sudden as it reminded you one more about the only creature in this world who had known you so well and who could have made you feel similar.

“A few days, perhaps?” Halbrand looked back at Míriel and you sighed out of relief once you got free from his burning gaze.

The Queen Regent looked back at you once more and you looked up only slightly to nod at her. Ar-Pharazôn rolled his eyes but he did not disagree – at least not openly.

“Three days,” he ordered. “And the Elf is to be restricted to palace grounds.”

“I will not be made a prisoner!” Galadriel protested.

“I would sooner knee-cap a stallion than seek to imprison the mighty Commander of the Northern Armies,” Ar-Pharazôn answered ironically and the crowd laughed at her. “So, you shall be Númenor’s guest.”

You could feel the tension in the room slowly relaxing and you nodded at the Queen Regent before walking out in a hurry, feeling Halbrand’s eyes on you as you were walking out in a haste with your skirts gathered in your fists, rushing to your chambers to collect your chaotic thoughts.

You had a malicious feeling creeping up deep inside of you – no, not even a feeling. An odd, eerie certainty. And as much as you wished for it to not be true, you also wanted it to be and you felt guilty for experiencing such cursed yearning to see and touch him again. Your Mairon.

When you heard from your maid at the end of the day that the human named Halbrand ended up in jail already for starting a fight, you simply could not stop yourself from paying him a visit. You walked inside the prison area of the palace carefully as you moved quietly throughout the hall with your dress flowing behind you gently.

The man was sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the wall. He was smirking as he watched you with no reaction whatsoever. Once more you noticed that you could not sense his aura or predict his mood like you usually could with most creatures, even the noblest of the Elves.

“You are no human,” you stated as you stood right in front of his cell. Halbrand snorted at that and rolled his eyes. “Who are you?” You asked and he only shook his head.

You grabbed the bars and squeezed them tightly as the silence broke due to your ring clashing with the iron. The sound echoed and Halbrand turned his head around rapidly while he squinted his eyes at your ring.

“Are you him?” You asked, nearly desperately. “Are you my Mairon?”

Halbrand stood up finally and even though he seemed to be more serious now, he still had a playful smirk on his lips. He approached you with his arms crossed and you caught yourself staring at his tan, flexed muscles before you looked up to meet his sparkling eyes once more. Nothing but the iron bars between you two and it was you squeezing them tight although he was the imprisoned one.

“You would look like a crazy maniac if I was not,” he whispered, leaning in. He was so close that you could feel his warm breath on your face.

“You were supposed to be dead…” you whispered and closed your eyes, feeling warm tears streaming down your cheeks. You squeezed your fists even tighter around the bars as your whole soul vibrated throughout your human form.

“I am sorry to disappoint you,” Halbrand answered.

“Your star has faded away, I have cried so many tears, have been outcast by Varda because with you, some of my own light faded away, too,” you revealed in a trembling voice before opening your hazy and wet eyes. He was staring at you without playfulness now. “I know it would be better for this world if you stayed dead but I feel joy to be with you again,” you confessed.

His rough fingertips brushed the ring wrapped around your finger as he smiled sadly.

“This ring remains older than most creatures of this realm,” he pointed out.

“I have never taken it off, Mairon,” you assured him. “Nothing in this world is older than the bond between us.”

“That is quite blasphemous,” he smirked and you shook your head as you had no idea what to say to that. He was right – you should not claim such things, you were no god. But yet, whatever was between you and him – it felt so overwhelming, so overlooming.

Your souls were entangled, made of the same stardust. You were the same spirit, the same heart, the same blood; only split in two forms and that was enough pain to be apart in that way. Spending centuries without him at all, thinking he was dead… It was like death itself.

But Mairon was back now and alongside him back was the part of you that had died with him.

“Will you tell them about me, (Y/N)?” He asked, quietly.

“I should, should I not? You are up to no good,” you sniffled your tears back and your eyes met his. You let go of the iron bars and extended your hands to cup his scratched cheeks. When you touched, you felt your whole body trembling, barely able to contain your spirit and your power.

“I am up to the greater good. You know that my path is the right one; it is the only path. My only goal is to heal,” he assured you and leaned in to place a soft kiss upon the palm of your hand as you gasped.

“Up to no good then,” you let out a small chuckle through your tears. You knew him enough already to know what it meant.

You wanted to get rid of the iron bars and to kiss him. His form differed from his previous one but it was never about his flesh – it was always about whatever it contained.

You had never really kissed, though. All those centuries you had spent with each other, you had spent it on yearning and gazing at yourselves, stealing soft pecks upon your cheeks or knuckles, giving each other gifts and talking sweet to one another.

Because you knew that the Maiar had not been created to love – not like this, at least. They had not been created to know the pleasures of the flesh or its desires. They had been created to serve the gods.

Perhaps something had gone wrong during the act of your creation. Perhaps it had not – perhaps it was that part of him living inside of you that craved to be close to him at all times just like the part of you living inside of him craved to be close to you.

“Join me, (Y/N), come with me, be my Queen,” Halbrand whispered and you froze, taking your hands away immediately.

“Not even half an hour I was given to enjoy your return for you are trying to deceive me once more,” you remarked, harshly.

He had been known to tease and tempt you countless of times but your soul remained pure no matter what.

“Melkor is no more. I am my own master now but I will never be whole without you by my side,” Halbrand was the one to wrap his hands around the iron bars now as he moved even closer while you took a step back. “Varda outcasted you? I will make sure no one in Middle-earth worships her no more for you will become their Queen of Light.”

“Revenge is not what I seek,” you shook your head. “Please, Mairon, your words are like daggers. I cannot handle them,” you turned your head around as more and more of your tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Refuse me as much as you like, (Y/N). A part of you lives inside of me and that is my lightness. A part of me lives inside of you and it is the part you consider rotten. Be careful, my dear, for the rot likes to spread,” Halbrand warned you although his voice remained sweet.

“I have never considered anything coming from you to be rotten,” you laid your eyes upon him again.

“Can you not see, my sweet? They keep us apart because together we would become so powerful that we could outcast the gods themselves,” Halbrand continued and his whisper caused a shiver to go down your spine. His words were wrong… So wrong. “Together, we could be anything we wanted. We could be forged into one flesh if we wished, forever bound.”

“If you cared so much about us being together, you would let me lure you back into the light instead of trying to tempt me to join you in darkness, Mairon,” you whispered in Quenya.

“It pains me when you keep insisting that my path is the darkness. Your blind obedience to our creators is much darker to me, my love,” he answered.

Perhaps you would go on like that – and knowing you two, you could do that for ages. But you were interrupted by Lady Galadriel, who looked you up and down with curiosity as she entered the prison.

“The most trusted advisor of the Queen Regent,” she greeted you, “but the least trusted one amongst her subjects. You come from Middle-earth, they say. A noble Lady. But I have never heard of you before,” Galadriel pointed out.

“Must Elves know all about human affairs?” You challenged her and she smiled, softly.

“Human? Yes,” Galadriel answered. “There are spirits, however, that remain out of our grasp. They are no gods but nearly like them. Sent to us by the Valar when we need aid,” she squinted her eyes.

“I shall remain out of your grasp then,” you nodded and she nodded back.

“What is going on?” Halbrand whined, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms again. Putting on an act of a common man in front of Galadriel and even though you knew you should scream into her face that he was the very darkness she had sworn to fight and defeat – you chose to stay silent. Perhaps he would redeem himself, perhaps he would realise that he might be given a second chance if only he decided to choose the right path this time.

Perhaps, before outing him to the outside world, you would try to fix his way of perceiving which path was the right one.

And you knew he had been given too many chances already but your heart would never give up on him. You would forever find excuses for him and try to make it right between you two.

“You…” Galadriel approached the iron bars as she smiled softly at Halbrand. “You do not belong on this island.”

“If there’s one of us that doesn’t belong here, Elf, it’s you,” Halbrand shook his head.

“I’m not so sure of that anymore,” Galadriel’s eyes sparkled as she briefly laid them upon you. “But one thing I am now certain. You are more than you claim,” she took a step further. “I found this in the Hall of Lore,” she handed Halbrand a scroll of paper that made you squint your eyes.

He took it, pretending to be unbothered. And when he opened it, you saw a heraldry drawing, suddenly realising he was wearing a pendant with the same mark. What was the game he was playing…?

“That’s funny. I found this on a dead man,” Halbrand winked at you before he looked at Galadriel with a smirk. “Thought the pattern suited me,” he added and sat down on a bench inside his cell.

Galadriel sighed and she glanced at you, as if she was expecting you to help her. You did not move an inch, however.

“Many ages ago, a man bearing that mark united the scattered tribes of the Southlands under one banner,” she told Halbrand. “The very banner that might unite them again today. Against the evil that now seeks to claim their lands. Your lands, Halbrand,” she emphasised and you sucked on the inside of your cheeks after realising what his clever scheme was. “Your people have no King for you are him,” Galadriel kept insisting.

Your Mairon, the great deceiver, knew very well that eagerly agreeing to all of this would not be as powerful as trying to pretend to be uninterested at first. Therefore, he looked away and chuckled.

“That’s an odd thing to say to a man in a cage,” he pointed out.

“A cage you have landed in because you chafe under the rags of the common,” Galadriel claimed as she looked at you again. “My Lady, you must tell your Queen the truth.”

“No Elf will tell me what I must or I must not do,” you smirked as you shook your head at how arrogant she was. You had to play your role but even as your Maia self, you wanted to humble her. “I doubt one pendant proves this man’s heritage enough.”

“What about his testimony?” Galadriel was not giving up as she looked at Halbrand again. “The armour that ought to rest upon your shoulders weighs upon your soul, Halbrand.”

Long silence occurred, in which you were able to watch the master of deception performing his craft. The way he kept staring at the drawing, his face full of mixed emotions and confusion, guilt. The way he grabbed the pendant with his hands and brushed it gently with his fingertips. Everyone would believe him.

“Be careful, Elf,” he said eventually. “The heir to this mark is heir to more than just nobility,” Halbrand stood up to approach the iron bars. “For it was his ancestor who swore a blood oath to Morgoth,” he reminded her and you were in awe how he used the bits of dark truth about himself to toy with her and test the waters.

And how oblivious she was, how eager to keep following the scenario she had already prepared for this situation to go with in her head.

“I am not the hero you seek,” Halbrand shook his head.

Indeed, he was not.

“For it was my family that lost the war,” he added.

“And it was mine who started it,” Galadriel insisted. “Ours was no chance meeting,” she pointed out and looked at you again. “No fate, nor destiny, nor any other words men use to speak of the forces they lack the conviction to name. Ours was the work of something greater,” she smiled at you and you forced a smile back.

Was she thinking that it was you who caused this meeting? Gods, if she only knew…

“You must see it,” she looked back at Halbrand.

“All I see is an Elf who won’t put down her sword,” he remarked.

“Come with me to Middle-earth,” she leaned in to be closer to him and you felt an odd sting of pain inside of your heart. Was it jealousy that another woman dared to stand so close to your Mairon…? Most likely. “And together we will redeem both our bloodlines.”

“How?” Halbrand asked, looking at her intensely. “You’re stuck on this island and you’re still short an army,” he smirked.

“That is all about to change,” Galadriel smiled and turned around to walk away.

You glanced at the man one last time before hurrying after her.

“Lady Galadriel!” You called out her name once you were outside the prison.

“My Lady,” she turned around to face you and you nearly bumped into her. “I did not expect to encounter an emissary of the Valar in Númenor, I must admit,” she bowed her head slightly. “How should I address you?”

“Here, in Númenor, you must call me Lady Maneth. In Valinor you would know me as (Y/N),” you introduced yourself and Lady Galadriel’s eyes widened slightly.

“(Y/N)...” She breathed out. “You know more than anyone else how important my task is. We must stop the darkness from spreading,” she pleaded.

“No,” you shook your head. “You must stop pushing this man… Halbrand… Into whatever you are trying to push him into,” you scolded her.

“Do the Valar have different plans for him?” Galadriel wondered out loud.

“It is not about him,” you winced, not wanting to discuss Mairon any longer with her. “It is about you, Artanis. You are beginning to become the very darkness you swore once to destroy,” you warned her.

“What do you mean?” Galadriel furrowed her brow as she took a step back.

“It is still cheating when one betrays a cheater. It is still a theft when one steals from a thief. And it is still a murder when one kills a murderer. Because it is not the matter of whether one deserves it or not – it is a matter of the act itself being committed. Too many pure and good souls were lost to us, driven by the desire to do justice,” you lectured her and you could feel her anger and frustration rising, however she would never dare to lash out on an emissary of the gods.

“Pretty words, that is all you can offer, meanwhile people are dying,” she spat out.

“Do you truly care about them, Artanis, or is their suffering your excuse to pick up the sword once more?” You asked but she was walking away angrily already and all you could see was her back, disappearing in the darkness of the corridor ahead of you.

You turned around once more and sighed at the doors leading back to the prison. You decided to leave Halbrand alone for the night but you worried about what would happen next. If he was about to choose the wrong path again, you would have to reveal his true self to everyone and interfere with his scheme.

Hope was all you had as you fidgeted with the ring around your finger.

“The visions are back and worse than ever,” Míriel confessed to you. “I suspect that it all has something to do with the Elf,” she added as she was trying to read your face but you made sure not to reveal anything.

“I knew that people of Númenor despised her kin but I underestimated the delicacy of the situation,” you admitted as you moved closer to the Queen Regent. “This is beyond worrying. The future of Númenor depends on your relationship with others. It is no time to make enemies instead of friends,” you warned.

“It would be an easier task to convince them that the Elves are not our enemies if only Lady Galadriel was not so…” the Queen Regent sighed, looking for the right word.

“Insufferable?” You chuckled and she nodded with a smile. “Elves differ from humans. They are not raised to be humble.”

“You know a lot about their kin,” Míriel pointed out, trying to make you confess who you truly were once more. She would never ask openly but sometimes she was teasing you this way.

“There are quite a few in the lands I come from,” you only answered.

“The lands you come from… Are they not The Southlands?” Míriel raised her eyebrows. “Like that human man?”

You took a deep breath in. If only you had known back then that your backstory would cause problems a few years later… But it was too late to change it because it would be highly suspicious.

“Yes,” you nodded. “But he is a commoner. I was a noble,” you added.

You were interrupted by Captain Elendil leading Lady Galadriel to you. She bowed her head slightly and exchanged a meaningful look with you.

“Lady Galadriel wishes for an audience,” Captain Elendil said and the Queen Regent nodded her head.

You stood still because these days she wanted you by her side always, no matter what. You did not even have to ask if you should leave or not.

“What is it?” Míriel asked when Galadriel stood on the other side of the table, facing you. She laid out two scrolls of paper in front of you – one was the same she had shown to Halbrand on the previous day and the other one was much more worn out and dirty.

“I found this in the Hall of Lore,” Galadriel informed the Queen Regent mysteriously and you allowed Míriel to see the items with her own eyes as you kept standing there with your hands clasped behind your back.

“You vex me, Elf,” Míriel looked up at Galadriel. “I welcome you as a guest and you gallop off to our countryside to steal ancient scrolls whilst your Southlander companion assaults our citizenry.”

“He is understandably quick to temper. His people are dying,” Galadriel explained.

“His people?” The Queen Regent asked, surprised.

“I believe the man you hold in your dungeons is no common brawler, but the lost heir in exile to the throne of The Southlands,” she revealed.

Míriel turned around to look at you and you raised your eyebrows slightly. You were not sure what to say to that. Should you help Mairon or interfere with his schemes? The answer was only easy for your mind but your heart wished to never cause him any trouble.

“Lady Maneth comes from The Southlands. She would know about that,” the Queen Regent informed Galadriel and the Elf looked at you, intensely.

“I cannot be sure,” you only said. “That there was a long gone line of Kings, I have known. That there are still their living descendants, I have not been aware of. That is not impossible, though,” you explained.

“His people are scattered. Leaderless,” Galadriel looked back at Míriel. “But with your backing they might unite behind his banner. And fight.”

How oblivious she was. His banner was nothing she would want to ever see floating in the air. His banner was nothing she would want to ever see people follow.

“What do you mean backing?” Míriel asked, taken aback by Galadriel’s proposal.

“Sauron was once your people’s enemy, as much as mine,” Galadriel reminded her and you moved uncomfortably. “I call on you to finish the task left undone.”

You might have hated this name more than he hated it. It brought you nothing but pain when others would address your Mairon this way – The Abhorred.

“I shall go,” you spoke, interrupting the tension between the two women. Míriel looked at you with a slight panic in her eyes because she did not want to be left alone with Galadriel but you simply could not stand being there anymore, hearing her talk about your Mairon. “I shall question that man, Halbrand. Mayhaps I will find out if he truly is what the Elf claims,” you said and Míriel nodded at you although you could sense she still felt uneasy to be left without your counsel.

You walked past Captain Elendil and went to the prison area of the palace like on the night before. Halbrand was sitting on the bench this time, with his back leaning on the iron bars. At the sound of your footsteps, he did not even flinch nor turned his head around. He did not have to. He knew it was you coming.

“Mairon…” You crouched down in front of his cell and wrapped your fingers around the bars. “Do not follow her, resist her temptation. Stay here with me.”

Halbrand turned around slowly with a playful smile on his lips as he looked down at you. You were not on your knees but it still seemed as if you were begging him.

“Stay here with you? Are you not a grand Lady on this island?” He asked.

“I can be anything I want and so can you,” you reminded him, your whisper was nearly inaudible but you did not need to speak your words out loud at all for him to hear them anyway. “We can live a lifetime here and then change our forms once more, start all over again. Over and over for the whole eternity. Far away from the rest. If I am to ever abandon my life alongside the gods, it will not be for your darkness… But it could be for this. For us.”

Halbrand stood up and the distance between you became even bigger now as he kept looking down at you with a hint of adoration mixed with pure contempt. He had to think you were pathetic and some part of him found it adorable but the other part found it embarrassing.

“It does not have to be Númenor,” you added. “We can go anywhere.”

“Let us go to The Southlands then,” Halbrand smirked. “Be the Queen alongside me.”

“You have made your decision then, I see,” you sighed and leaned in to press your forehead to the iron bars. “Will you ever love me enough to choose me over power?”

Halbrand did not like your choice of words as his eyes darkened. He crouched down as well, slowly, in a nearly threatening way. Now you were on his eye level as he looked intensely at you.

“Will you ever love me enough to choose me over your gods?” He asked.

The sound of footsteps made you stand up quickly and fix your dress. Halbrand also moved up and sat down on the bench. It was all done right in time because the guards walked inside the prison, dragging Lady Galadriel behind them. You watched with widened eyes as she was being thrown inside one of the cells.

“Don’t tell me,” Halbrand chuckled at her. “Tavern brawl?”

“Sedition,” she answered and Halbrand laughed as you gave her a scolding look.

When you joined Míriel again, she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, staring outside the window. She turned her head around to smile at you gently and then she went back to staring ahead of her.

“And?” She asked.

“He asked for my hand,” you informed her with a playful smirk and the Queen Regent turned her head around once more to look at you with wide eyes.

“The audacity…” She sighed.

“Why?” You asked her with a soft smile.

“For a commoner to propose such a thing to a Lady like you… Even if it was only to jest–”

“It was not to jest, “you interrupted her. “If he is what Galadriel claims, then he would be my King,” you pointed out and an odd feeling filled your whole body when you called Mairon your King. A malicious one but also honey-like warm; sweetly spreading throughout your body.

“You are above human Kings, are you not, Lady Maneth?” Míriel raised an eyebrow at you. It was the very first time she asked such a thing so openly.

“I cannot answer that, my friend,” you smiled at her mysteriously, “but if he chooses to follow the path Lady Galadriel pushes him onto, I might have to follow him.”

“And abandon Númenor?” The Queen Regent asked. “Abandon me?”

“I am sorry,” you sighed. “Following him might be a task much more important than watching over this island,” you revealed to her.

Even though you were not given direct orders from the gods, it was obvious that watching over Mairon was more important because keeping his schemes under control would only profit in the end for everyone, including the people of Númenor. Míriel could not be told all the details, therefore she would never understand and she would feel abandoned by you. It was the price you had to pay.

It was an excuse, of course. Choosing to follow Mairon to Middle-earth to make sure he would not go back to his evil ways and that he would use the position Galadriel was giving him to do good instead… It was nothing but a noble excuse to simply explain the fact you wanted to follow him.

It was different now, though. It was not one of those times when he had begged you to come with him, straight to Morgoth. No, this time there was a string of hope that he would truly redeem himself. And of course he would have a bigger chance to do so with you by his side.

“It seems so important… Everything happening in Middle-earth. More important than I suspected. But if even you are willing to leave my side to go back there, it means there are things happening there that are much bigger than me,” Míriel said. “I must rethink Lady Galadriel’s words now then,” she informed you and walked past you to walk away. “Just like you must rethink Halbrand’s proposal.”

“Yes, I must,” you nodded at her and looked outside the window yourself. The sun was slowly setting and the view was beautiful – you wished it would forever be like this; so peaceful and calm with pink and orange hues.

Like back in the day when you had been sitting in the flower fields with Mairon, staring at the skies, your bodies filled with no malice – only pure yearning for one another.

The orange skies of the evening sky always reminded you of his ginger hair from back then and how you would brush it with your fingers, staring in awe at how the sunlight seemed to sparkle upon it.

You were standing by the guards’ side as you watched them open Halbrand’s cell. They nodded at him and he nodded back. The guards left you with him alone and an awkward silence occurred between you two.

“There, you have it your way,” you finally said, quietly.

“You must have missed me terribly,” he crossed his arms and chuckled but you did not want to laugh.

Your eyes filled with tears immediately at the mention of all those centuries you had spent thinking he was gone forever. You lifted your wet, glistening eyes to lay them on his and he clenched his jaw as he moved slightly while all playfulness left his expression.

“Do you know why I could not be killed?” Halbrand approached you to cup your chin and you shook your head. “Because of the part of me still living inside of you. As long as you are alive, I cannot be slain,” he explained. “However, the part of you that lives within me had to suffer for all those centuries alongside me and there is not a day passing when I do not regret causing you such pain.”

“Oh, Mairon…” You gasped and threw your arms around his neck to pull him closer and hug him.

However, he had something else on his mind. He blinked slowly a few times and cupped your cheeks now with his rough hands as he leaned in to join your lips together.

For the first time in your immortal life, you finally found out how sweet his lips were. And gods, how good they felt… How right. Your souls intertwined at that moment, every missing piece finding its place as if you were forged into one body.

“Before we were created, we had been a piece of stardust in the abyss and we had been one flesh then, of that I am sure,” Mairon whispered after breaking the kiss. “I should have kissed you much earlier, my love, for I have never felt so whole before.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I am glad you are kissing me only now,” you added and he raised an eyebrow at you. “For if you had kissed me like that back in the day, I would have followed you into corruption straight away. I would have worn black armour forged out of iron and I would have become Morgoth’s most zealous Lieutenant by your side – only to feel your lips on mine again,” you confessed.

Just when you finished voicing out your blasphemous feelings, Halbrand’s lips kissed you once more. This time he lowered his hands to intertwine your fingers with his. You felt him smirking when he felt the ring on your finger brushing his skin.

“Let us get married. Straight away,” he breathed out. “You are wearing my ring already. You have worn it for all eternity.”

“It would be only fair if you wore something from me as well. Something to mark you as my own like I am yours,” you pointed out.

“What would it be, my sweet?” Mairon caressed your cheek and you smirked at him a little before you reached out to the back of your neck.

You had prepared your gift for him this very morning when you already knew he would be released. There was a pendant around your neck, hidden under your dress. You took it off now and handed it to him as he slightly moved away at the sight of it.

It was a beautiful pendant surely although you made sure it would not look too feminine, so he would wear it at all times. However, what it contained inside was what truly intimidated him – it was a small portion of your light that you had sacrificed to lock in there. Wearing it could save his soul, of that you were sure. But in his eyes it surely was a form of imprisonment.

“Have you not sacrificed enough of your light for me already?” Mairon asked.

“Never enough. I shall sacrifice as much of it as I can to save you, my love,” you insisted and pushed the necklace into his open hand as you closed it around the pendant.

Mairon forced a smile as he swallowed thickly and opened his hand again to stare at the necklace before slowly putting it around his neck and hiding it under his tunic.

“Thank you,” he whispered in Quenya and you smiled back at him, encouragingly.

It had been ages since you last wore armour. Lately, the Valar had been using you more as a politician than a warrior but you still remembered the wars you had taken part of. Back then you had been on the opposite side of the field from Mairon but now you were by his side, riding your horse next to his as people of Númenor were throwing flowers at you.

You took a deep breath in when it was time for you to jump off of your mare. What you were about to do would be equal to making a final decision about your fate – leaving Númenor meant forsaking the task that had been given to you by the Valar. However, you wanted to believe that they would value your new task even more; the one you had given to yourself. To watch over Mairon and make sure no one would know him as Sauron ever again.

He helped you to get on the ship and when you held his hand tight and he grinned at you, your heart filled with love and warmth. There was, however, a hint of worry because you knew what a skilled deceiver he could be.

To become the King and Queen of The Southlands and to erase the darkness from that long-forsaken land was your shared goal now. Or so he had been promising you. To unite the tribes of that realm and to make sure they had a bright future. And once your mortal forms would become old enough, you would abandon or transform them to start a new life somewhere else. To heal more and more lands, more kins.

You wanted to believe the healing would be done in the right and proper way this time because now he had you by his side.

Your new husband and an old companion smirked at you and squeezed your cheek playfully before turning around to join Captain Elendil to speak to him as the ships sailed out of the harbour. Lady Galadriel stood next to you instead and she glanced at you from the corner of her eye.

“I know it is not my right to ask about the ways of the Valar and the Maiar but why would a spirit like you marry a human and abandon the task originally given to her?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“The road goes ever winding,” you answered her. “Not even the Valar or the Maiar can see all its paths.”

“Your devotion to this cause makes me believe I was right to fight so eagerly for this to happen,” she said and you smiled to yourself. She was so desperate.

“You are right, Artanis. It is not your right to know about the ways of my kind,” you patted her shoulder and gave her a faint smile as she nodded, staring into the horizon.

You looked there, too, but your mind was absent. You were scared and unsure – some part of you nearly wanted to be as blind as Lady Galadriel because she seemed to be so certain and fearless.

You turned around and realised that he was looking at you already. And at that moment, he looked like the Maia he had been created as – so pure with that wide smile and the sun shining behind him, creating a halo around his form. He looked handsome as ever in Númenorian armour, so different from the one he had been wearing as Morgoth’s Lieutenant.

You gave him a wide smile back, so full of love and devotion. Perhaps his star would begin to shine in the night sky once more.

MASTERLIST

#sauron x reader #halbrand x reader #annatar x reader #lilysfiction

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briardoll · 19 hours ago

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The Obey Me! Side datables (+ Luke) react to seeing your human form for the first time!

(This comes from the idea that you were actually in sheep form during the exchange program until you went back to the human world, scroll down through my posts for reference)

Also I’m so so sorry I was gone so long I lost motivation and couldn’t write anything for a while but guess what? We are so back!! (I might disappear again idk yet)

Diavolo finds that you look very close to what he thought you would (he already knew), he compliments your hair and your face and he likes your hands a lot. They’re so much smaller than his! Most people are smaller than him but you really take the cake, after all humans are much shorter and weaker physically compared to demons or angels, he asks you to stay for dinner with him and Barbatos and insists on treating you to a nice night in! A slumber party just for you and him, but don’t expect to do much that doesn’t come from the book ‘Youthful Fun 101”. Maybe try teaching him some human world memes! …Or don’t actually.. he might start saying them in the wrong situations out of context. Whoops.

Barbatos knew what you looked like but was still pleasantly surprised to see you look like you in person. He also enjoys your hands.??? What is with the royal palace and hands? He likes how they look holding pens, utensils, teacups, you name it. If you ask, he’ll select outfits that will make you look very elegant and classy, perfect for a date with the young Lord! Or him, if you’d be willing to wait for a break to be had. (aka a long long time, but if you do, you’re guaranteed to have a tremendous time)

Simeon heard your voice ring through purgatory hall, a thing his ears cherish, he turns to see a sweet yet unfamiliar figure standing in the doorway, a pretty smile on your face and the eyes he couldn’t stop staring into gave away your identity without you having to re-introduce yourself. “MC! You certainly look different today, please, come in, I’m making BLT’s for lunch, I’ll prepare one for you too!” You happily accepted his offer and lunch was great!

Luke got word that you had a bit of a surprise waiting in the kitchen, which is good because he’s been meaning to have you try the cupcakes he’s been tweaking the recipe to. Walking into the kitchen there’s… a random person? Is that you, or someone else? You see him and go to hug him, and say that you got his message about the cupcakes and will try them after lunch, but, he doesn’t care about that now, he’s more interested in your new style! The difference is astounding, your hair and your face and everything! You look like a real human! He thought you actually had pink hair so he was somewhat surprised it wasn’t actually lol.

Solomon is the first to see you, and since you have some alone time, he cups your face in his hands and moves them to run his fingers through your hair. He’s so in love it’s crazy, being with you makes him feel young, and somewhat like a.. normal human? The casualty between you makes him feel less like the great sorcerer and king Solomon, instead he feels like just, Solomon. With you nothing is boring, and if you want to really excite him, you can use those soft sweet lips to give him a kiss or two?

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nikkalick · 2 days ago

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Veilguard Spoilers below the cut. About the Blight, the current state of Southern Thedas, and the Veil…I’ve never made a rant like this so bear with my ramblings, please

I’ve seen so many people say, “We should’ve been able to tear down the Veil” and I feel like I’m going insane every time I see that take like…

MAMA A BLIGHT IS BEHIND IT??!

You think what happened to Southern Thedas was bad this game? You have no idea what’s in store for you if you open up the fucking Veil and let that trickle of Blight become a flood.

Point of Order just to set the scene with how bad the literal Blight is

“They (the writers/devs/Bioware/EA) nuked Southern Thedas so they don’t have to deal with the lore the past content set up there going forward”

Maybe. But also the only other Blight we’ve seen in game was the Fifth Blight. By all accounts a statistical anomaly in how it acted when compared to Blights 1-4. I don’t wanna delve too deep into this because it is so not the point I’m trying to make with this post, but the Architect very much had a hand in waking up Blight numero 5 and very likely impacted it in a way that made it less volatile. Past Blights saw Darkspawn hitting big populations hard and fast. The 5th started slow, in the wilds, at Ostagar. Away from large amounts of people. It is mentioned in DA:O that this Blight “feels different”.

The Blight we see in Veilguard is more in line with the Blights that came before the 5th. Something something the Inquisitor writing “worse than we have seen in living memory” because the only living memory anyone has of a Blight was the one from 20 years ago. Which was bad, but not as bad as they usually are. Veilguard’s is bad the way Blights are meant to be (if not worse because, ya know, the Gods), and it was still ONLY A TRICKLE OF WHAT THE BLIGHT IS BEHIND THE VEIL. If the full force of the Blight escapes the prison/the Fade that’s it. Goodnight to everyone in this world both within and without all of Thedas.

Moving on.

“Solas can move the Blight into the new prison that was meant for the Gods and then tear down the Veil. That was his plan.”

Sorry, did we play the same game? We know what the Blight is now. It’s the last remnants of the Titans. Twisted, broken, angry, nightmarish. It’s all that’s left. All that’s left are the plagued dreams of ancient beings that are so devastated because of what Mythal, Solas, and the rest of the Evanuris did to them with the very dagger we now hold.

I want to take a moment to address that what I’m about to say is said as someone who’s been trapped in Solavellen hell for years. I love Solas and his character, and I believe that yes, he had a plan that would have both moved (or killed) the remaining Evanuris and the Blight to a new prison while simultaneously tearing down the Fade. But if you, like me, wanted to redeem this idiot despite everything, then pray tell how does Solas locking up the Blight offer him said redemption?

How does locking away the only thing that remains of the Titans into a prison and throwing away the key redeem him? The Evanuris fucked up when using the Titan’s, idk…life blood? To take form. Solas fucked up when he, upon Mythal’s behest, created a weapon that sundered the Titan’s (and the Dwarves as whole) from their magic, from their dreams, from their very being. And they did it because they thought they had a right to. They put themselves above the dwarves and as a result they caused the Blight. And then they hid the Blight away. Yes, they hid it away to keep people safe, and yes, locking it and the Evanuris away when they tried to use what was essentially a bio weapon to maintain their position of power was a call that kept people safe for a long time. But the Veil was a consequence of that call. And while the Blight was trapped in its prison, behind the Veil, it got angrier and angrier with every passing generation.

Removing the Veil and shoving it into yet another prison will not only piss it off even more, but it doesn’t allow for Solas to actually atone for the part he played in its creation and the part he played in destroying what the dwarves used to have. He has to uphold the current prison. He has to go to it to try to soothe it. To heal it as best he can. Locking it away elsewhere, and then trying to offer it salvation after the fact? It’s not gonna cut it.

He has to go to the Black City, he has to face what he did, and he has to put aside his favorable bias towards giving the Elves “back what they lost” (a world current day Elves don’t remember and have never known) to instead put the safety and wellbeing of every being in the current world at a higher priority. That’s part of his redemption arc by the way; learning to value the lives of the people that walk this new world he had a hand in creating. Because when he wakes up before the start of DA:I he doesn’t value anyone. Shit, when Felassan declines to help him destroy the Veil and suggests he learns to appreciate the world that has been in place for centuries, Solas kills him for it.

All that said, he can’t fully put things right. He can’t reconnect the Blight with the dormant remains of the Titans. Because, as the game tells us, we’d then be faced with a bunch of Titans the size of mountains rampaging, rightfully so, because of the wrongs that were committed against them. But Solas can put in the work to find a way to ease its agony. And maybe, if given the time and the patience, one day the Veil could come down because the Blight will have had the opportunity and been given the help it needed to actually heal from the trauma that created it. And maybe taking the time to do that will have, in some small way, allowed him to make up for the shitty hand he played in destroying the Dwarves. A race he (finally) sees as his equal. Because that’s a big part of his fucking redemption arc.

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age: the veilguard #datv #Veilguard #da: origins #da: inquisition #dragon age blight #solas dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #veilguard spoilers #datv spoilers #idk man I just got really into this rant #maybe I misunderstood something in the story but this is my take on the Veil having to stay up

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novankenn · 3 days ago

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OOPS.. I'm SORRY!

Pyrrha had been bored so she had cone into the stacks. A dusty, musty collection of old books. Many of the works only having the significance of being out of print for years. So lost in her thoughts on how to finally get Jaune out of his funk about Weiss choosing Neptune, along with telling him of her own feelings, she just wandered.

Pyrrha: Huh?

A shimmer on the shelf to her left catches her eye.

Pyrrha: What's this?

Pulls a dusty tome from the shelf. She gives a puff of air to remove some of the dust from the cover. Removing the rest with a swipe of her hand.

Pyrrha: Mental Manipulation for Fun and Profit?

Cracking open the book, she began to browse the pages, trying to figure out what the title meant. However the light was too poor to read the fine type, so tucking it under her arm, she headed back to JNPR's dorm.

Twenty minutes later, Pyrrha had her nose buried in the strange text. Apparently it was a collection of techniques, and Spells? While she wasn't convinced about the "spells" part there were a lot of techniques detailed with in the pages to open another's mind to what truly surrounded them.

Pyrrha: Maybe I can get Jaune to FINALLY notice my attempts for his attention!

Flipping through more of the pages, she found a section detailing a "spell" that would help open someone's mind , and also guide them to become the perfect version of themselves. Pyrrha giggled, at the thought of Jaune becoming even more perfect for her, than he already was.

Pyrrha: Well what could it hurt? I mean magic is just make believe, everyone knows that.

So setting the book on Jaune's bed, Pyrrha began to replicate the actions and words the pages detailed. She was alone in the dorm so she didn't pay attention to where she was pointing... Pyrrha: Aperi mentem tuam, perfectam versionem effici qui sis! (Open your mind to the perfect version of who you are!)

Pyrrha felt something flow through her. Looking from the book she saw a golden purple light form at the end of her index finger that was pointing at the door to the dorm... just as it opened.

Pyrrha: Jaune!

The beam of energy hit Jaune in the center of his chest. He staggered on his feet shaking his head. Pyrrha was mortified at what had happened!

Pyrrha: I'm sorry!

Jaune: Pyr?

Pyrrha: I'm sorry, Jaune. So sorry! Are you okay?

Jaune: I think so?

Jaune blinked his vivid blue eyes a few times, before finally getting them to focus.

Jaune: Pyr, get on the bed right now!

Pyrrha: Jaune?

Jaune: You're hair is an absolute rat's nest! Bed! Now. I have to fix it!

Pyrrha: Huh?

Jaune moved about the room gathering up Pyrrha's combs and brushes as well as rushing into the bathroom, and grabbing some additional hair products.

Jaune: Sit. Sit!

Pyrrha was so confused, that she just did as Jaune told her. Her mind melted even further when Jaune stopped in front of the full length mirror on the back of the dorm's entrance.

Jaune: Ack! What am I wearing? It's hideous! Nope, nope, focus Jaune. One tragedy at a time!

For the next half hour, Pyrrha was treated to the most exquisite treatment she had ever received, as Jaune brushed and then braided her hair. Once it was done, Jaune headed into the bathroom, as Pyrrha stood looking in the mirror at the elaborate and complicated braid Jaune had weaved her long crimson locks into.

Pyrrha: It's... it's beautiful!

Half a hour later, Jaune exited the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his head and another tucked about his chest, leaving his legs from the thigh down.

Pyrrha: Did you shave you legs?

Jaune said nothing as he moved to the shared closet, and started to rummage. Pyrrha just stood there as Jaune redressed, with no care about her standing there, and getting a nice from behind view of her crush. Though him turning about, wearing an amalgam of her and Nora's clothes did blank her mind.

Jaune: This will have to do, until I can get to Vale and shop!

Pyrrha: What did I do to Jaune?

(A/N - I have no idea what this is. I'm listening to some Nightcore and this idiotic idea popped into my head. )

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #I think I need new meds.#one shot?#arkos #cross-dressing #not a “true” gender-bend #magic is real #pyrrha made a mistake

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marriedtosuku · 3 days ago

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Posion Poison

An: Part II to Swim

WC: idk but it isn’t long

It has been a couple weeks since that unfaithful day at Jujutsu High. The scar on my battered heart freshly bruised by Gojo’s declaration. We were over. No explanation, sympathy, or apologizes- I wish I could denigrate his character, portraying him as some narcissist who only thought about himself whenever we went out for drinks or the same man who also forgot birthdays and anniversaries.

I sip on my lukewarm beverage from my favorite cafe as I stare out of the frosted windows. It was getting cooler outside and my iced coffee did little to provide temperateness, but it was the only thing giving me sameness. Everything was rapidly changing and nothing I do halts it.

‘Hey, you still drinkin that? We’re closing’ the barista, a pink haired, gruffy man, asked while sporting an apron way too tight for his muscular frame.

‘sorry, lost track of time.’

I peeked at my smart watch.

He grunts. ‘ bad day?’

‘something like that. my boyfriend broke up with me and I have no idea why.”

‘you stopped sucking his dick or sumn?’

I choke a little. “wha?”

‘kiddin, but-’ he sits down across from me. ‘is he really worth you moppin over? I mean I’m no relationship expert, but I know no man should make his girl feel like this.’

“Ex,”

“Same shit to me.”

‘You’re always proving customers with dating advice or am I special ?”

He smirks a little, showing off a tiny tooth gem‘ don’t like seeing a pretty woman upset.”

‘charming,”

While Ryomen, as he informed me, and I settled into a casual conversation, the bell rang. Gojo’s slender frame stood at the register, his hard eyes grazed upon the two of us with a form of bitterness oozing out of him.

“we’re closed.” Ryomen voice boomed

“Clearly,” he gestures towards us.

Ryo stood. His height almost similar to Satoru’s. The apron did little to deter his intimidating glower as he sized up my ex-boyfriend.

��I was just leaving. Thank you for listening, Ryomen.” I placed my hand on his chest to separate the two impending egos from clashing. ‘ I’ll see you later, okay.’

And with that I walked out with two pair of eyes staring at me.

#jjk gojo #jjk x plus size reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst #sukuna x black reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n

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tizahfanfics · 11 hours ago

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This POST reminded me of a fic I wrote a long time ago. It's basically Gordon and Scott on the beach (but it's angst, because... it's me, so it's always angst).

💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡

MURKY WATERS

"I was lost in a sea of despair, but you pulled me back..."

"You wanna surfing today?" The question came out of nowhere.

Gordon blinked and stared at his brother. It was ridiculously early, even for his morning habits. Scott stood in front of him, wearing this weird, expectant look.

"Scott… what?"

"I'm heading out to catch some waves. Thought you'd wanna come along."

"Sure, just—give me a minute. But, uh, why so early? It's gotta be freezing out there." Mornings on the island were always chilly, with winds that cut like a knife. Not exactly Gordon’s ide.

"What? Thought you liked a little challenge. Or are you chickening out?" Scott smirked, looking way too amused for Gordon's taste.

"No way! Just didn’t think you’d wanna hit the waves this early," Gordon said cautiously, choosing his words like walking on eggshells. Scott had been… touchy lately. The wrong tone or phrasing could set him off.

"Fine. I’ll meet you on the beach." Scott spun on his heel and left, leaving Gordon momentarily stunned. Well… maybe this was good. Maybe Scott was finally feeling more like himself. Gordon loved surfing with Scott, so… why not?

Gordon got dressed quickly and headed down to the beach, grabbing his board on the way.

It was definitely cold, just as he'd thought. Gordon considered trying to talk Scott into waiting a little longer, but when he spotted his brother already out in the water, grinning ear to ear, he let it slide.

Bracing himself for the icy waves, Gordon followed Scott into the surf. The wind was sharp and biting, and the water was frigid. Hopefully, Scott would realize this soon and they'd both head back in.

They paddled out and caught a couple of small waves, Gordon staying close enough to keep an eye on his brother. If anything went wrong, he was ready to haul Scott back to shore, no questions asked.

"Hey, remember that time at… what was it, Malibu?" Scott paddled closer, his nose red from the cold and his eyes bright with energy.

"Yeah, I remember. You didn’t wanna go, but then we couldn’t get you off the board," Gordon said with a laugh. Back then, Scott had been down in the dumps for some reason, so Gordon had dragged him out to Malibu for a few days with some friends.

Scott had initially bailed, saying he had "stuff to deal with," but right before Gordon left, he showed up, packed and ready.

"I didn’t wanna go," Scott admitted, his voice quieter. "That was the day Erin dumped me."

Oh.

Gordon hadn’t known that. He’d met Erin a few times, but never thought their relationship was anything serious. She was the free-spirited type, not someone who seemed interested in long-term anything. Besides, Scott had been gearing up to head to the Air Force Academy anyway.

"I had no idea," Gordon said, his brow furrowing. "Why didn’t you tell me? And why'd you decide to come, then?"

"It was… something she said," Scott replied, trailing off as he stared at the horizon.

Gordon waited for him to elaborate, but Scott just stayed there, lost in thought, before suddenly paddling further out.

"Hey, you just gonna sit there? That wave looks killer!" Scott called, breaking Gordon's train of thought.

Gordon smiled at his brother's excitement before trying to follow along. Scott wasn't making sense today;but after weeks of having a very quiet and untalkative brother, this seemed like progress. Gordon hoped it was.

He watched his brother advance and felt a tingling in his stomach that told him not to lose sight of him.

"Wait! Don’t go too far!" Gordon yelled, but Scott kept paddling toward a swell forming in the east. Gordon couldn’t help but feel like a worried parent on a beach trip with their kid. Usually, that was Scott’s job.

Apesar do frio, Scott parecia estar aproveitando o momento. Era bom ver seu irmão relaxando.

He enjoyed the sea. The day was truly beautiful, the cold already beginning to give way to comforting warmth as the sun rose in the sky.He looked around, not wanting to lose sight of Scott. Everything seemed so normal, just like old times.

A strong wind began to blow like the howl of a wounded animal. Gordon felt a strange chill, his Squid sense suddenly began to beep. He didn't know what it was.

His brother continued forward and Gordon realized he was heading in an unsafe direction. Stroking faster he began to move forward to get closer to Scott. His brain told him he was just freaking out over nothing.

But something in Gordon’s gut told him he needed to get Scott out of the water. Like, now.

He paddled faster, trying to catch up. Scott shouldn’t be pushing himself this hard—his body was still recovering.

"Scott! Slow down, man. Save some energy for the next set…" Gordon tried to keep his tone light, but his concern was bleeding through.

Scott ignored him. When the wave came, he rode it perfectly, and Gordon followed close behind.

Being inside the wave was exhilarating, like flying. Gordon thought maybe that was what Scott was chasing—freedom.

When they surfaced, both gasping for air, Gordon swept his wet hair back and glanced around for Scott. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Scott popped up right in front of him.

Scott’s expression was… strange. A mix of fear and uncertainty.

"You good?" Gordon blurted out before he could stop himself.

Scott frowned, like he was trying to work out the question, then turned back to the horizon.

"Yeah. I’m fine," he finally said, but his tone didn’t match the words.

"Scott, why don’t we head back now, huh? My leg’s cramping up a bit. Don’t think I should risk it," Gordon said, hoping to appeal to Scott’s protective instincts.

Scott gave him a long look, and for a second, Gordon thought he’d agree. But halfway back, Scott stopped abruptly.

"You’re lying."

"What?" Gordon asked, caught off guard.

"You’re lying! I’m fine, damn it! Why is everyone acting like I’m made of glass?" Scott shouted, his voice shaking as he tossed his surfboard aside.

"Whoa, hey! Where’s this coming from? We’re just worried about you!" Gordon said, letting his own board float as he reached for Scott.

But Scott wasn’t having it. "Worried? I’m sick of it! I know what I can handle, Gordon! I know what I'm capable of, I'm not broke! Can I at least ride a wave? ....I need this. Either that or would you rather I take a plane to relax? I—" He laughed, a sharp, bitter sound that made Gordon’s chest tighten.

"Scott! Calm down, man. Let’s just—"

But Scott was already paddling back out, ignoring him completely.

Gordon’s heart was pounding. Something was wrong.

"Scott!" he yelled, picking up his pace as a wave rolled over them. When Gordon surfaced, Scott was gone.

Panic hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Scott!" Gordon shouted again, spinning in the water. His pulse thundered in his ears.

Without a second thought, Gordon dove under, scanning the cold, murky water. It wasn’t long before he spotted a flash of blue—Scott’s wetsuit.

Scott lay motionless in the murky water.

Fuck fuck fuck!

He swam faster than he ever had, grabbing his brother and hauling him toward the shore.

By the time they hit the sand, Scott wasn’t breathing.

Gordon’s throat tightened, but he shoved the panic aside. His training kicked in;ignoring how much he himself was shaking.

Minutes felt like hours until, finally, Scott coughed and spat out water.

He couldn't believe what had just happened. He wanted to cry, from relief, from fear, from all the feelings that were boiling inside him.

Gordon quickly came to his senses upon hearing the distressing sounds of his brother. A mixture of coughs and sobs shook Scott's body, making Gordon's heart tighten even more.

Pulling his brother so he could breathe better resting on his chest as he calmed his own nerves from the terror he felt when Scott disappeared into the water.

"Shhh, you're okay. You're okay bro, we're okay." He knew they were far from okay; but somehow they would get there.

When his brother's rapid breathing and sobs finally calmed, he pulled Scott so they were face to face, still supporting him with his hands on his shoulders.

"What's gotten into you?!" ?" He didn't want his voice to crack, but he couldn't help it. It would give him many nights of nightmares.

Scott looked away and frowned, as if understanding had only just dawned on him.

"I don't know…oh my gosh. Fuck! I'm so sorry." He began to speak, his voice low and muffled by his own hands, which were shaking uncontrollably.

"Damn it! You don't do that Scott. You don't go into the water and underestimate it like that, ever. And you can't do that to me! You scared me to death." He stood up, needing to breathe and calm himself. "If I hadn't found you, you would have died! Do you see that? We just got you back…you can't-" Then everything came crashing down; he could no longer contain the tears that insisted on falling suddenly.

Scott tried to get up, but his legs betrayed him and he almost fell back into the sand if Gordon hadn't rushed to catch him.

They locked in a desperate embrace as if they could put all the broken pieces of themselves back together with just the endless love they felt for each other.

Gordon held his brother tightly. Scott was shaking under his hands. For a minute they stood there, breathing. Until Gordon realized that Scott was now shaking badly and still a little panting. He maneuvered his brother to steady him, and they both began the slow walk toward home.

"Let's go home, Scotty. Let's get you warm again." His brother said nothing, but squeezed his hand in acknowledgement.

You don't have to run, Scott. You can lean on us. We'll get through this, together."His brother made a very timid sound of agreement beside him. Gordon accepted this, it was the best he could ask for at the moment.

Scott had only been home from the hospital for a month. He looked much better physically, but Gordon knew there were unseen wounds that would take longer to heal.

"Thank you Gords" His brother thanked him, softly, almost a whisper.

"Anytime, bro. I'm here for you, whenever you need me. But I'd rather you didn't pull an Aquaman, my heart is fragile."

#thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #thunderbirds are go #gordon tracy

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casual-praxis · 1 day ago

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Thinking about a canon-divergent AU where one of the only changes is that Blue and Vio switched places...

I know it's been done a few times already, but I've mostly been thinking about it from the angle of "how can I change as few things as possible while also giving it a unique spin??"

I did end up changing some things anyway, but most of what I've envisioned are minor personality tweaks that only slightly change some dynamics, like Green using humor to cope with stress or Red being more direct in trying to keep everyone from fighting. Vio gravitates towards Red early on to set up for when the group is separated, conflicting with Blue more due to Blue's tendency to swat at Red.

Once separated, Blue still ends up in the snowy area, but instead of being completely frozen, he's only partially trapped, allowing Shadow to pop in and ask if he's "cooled off a little?" The recruitment speech occurs here, but altered to appeal to Blue rather than Vio. I like to think Blue would initially accept because he's pissed at the others but quickly realize he's in over his head (he doesn't really want anything bad to happen to anyone, anger just tends to cloud one's judgment).

He goes along with trying to trick Vio and Red at the Temple of Darkness, but his poker face is way less perfected than Vio's, so Vio clocks something is wrong fairly quick. Blue doesn't stick around to see what happens to them, not trusting he can continue to fool them, but also confident that Vio will keep Red safe (probably, anyway - he's still going to worry).

I like to think the connection Blue forms with Shadow is less backstabby, and more genuine on both sides. Blue isn't playing the long con here, he just isn't sure how to get out of it without getting himself or the others killed, and now Shadow factors in as well. If I put more thought into it, I'd like to see a scenario where the betrayal doesn't happen, and Blue convinces Shadow to join the hero's side (Shadow still probably breaks the mirror, but he'd be with them for at least a little while before that).

On Vio's side of things, he probably just wandered the Lost Woods until he ran into Red, and the two of them continued on looking for Blue and Green with the help of the fairy. I like to think that due to the constant conflict between him and Blue leading up to it, Vio would firmly be on the warpath to put down Blue (as logic dictates him as a threat to the group), but Red is trying desperately to keep him in line.

So during the Blue vs Green confrontation in this scenario, Vio would decide to just start taking potshots at Blue once it looks like Green is on the backfoot. He misses a fatal shot, but still gets an arrow lodged in Blue's shoulder. This results in Shadow and Blue retreating, and sicking the hinox's on the group, who also have to flee using the fairy.

The two of them reconcile at some point either before the Tower of Winds or during it. Blue's a little bitter about the arrow thing, but Vio chalks it up as revenge for Blue always hitting Red (to which Red chimes in that it's not equivalent and to not drag him into this).

Did this whole idea spawn from me attempting to inject Bludow and Vired into the canon story? Yea. Did it work? Not really, but it's fun to think about and that's all that matters probably.

Green during this whole thing has just been quietly goin' through it, but he's happy to be reunited at least. He missed everyone more than he thought he would.

I'm gonna keep rotating this idea around in my head for a bit, but it's on a backburner for now.

#blue activly tries to keep shadow from killing #unlike vio #who was just kinda down for murder i guess #blue and shadow get to be the subtle gays #red and vio get to be blatantly Like That #green gets a hug #because the plot is being mean to him and he needs one #four swords #green link #blue link #red link #vio link #shadow link #blue x shadow #red x vio #au idea #praxis rambles

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marbles-for-breakfast · 2 days ago

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Thoughts/Arguments about Endogenic systems:

(for context, I’m probably best described as “quoigenic”, but I don’t really identify with any origin label because I think they ultimately cause more confusion than clarity)

Firstly, for those who don’t know, the term endogenic is about the narrative of your own existence. It was created by a diagnosed DID system which believes they were born plural and would have been plural regardless of the trauma they experienced. Whether you personally believe that to be true is your business, but I fail to understand how people think that idea is harmful, ableist or anything else. Not everybody wants to conceive of the origin of their existence in the same way. I don’t see anything wrong with that. Trying to force people to adopt a certain narrative about their own life doesn’t help anyone or prevent any sort of harm.

As far as willogenic systems go (because they’re under the endo umbrella, I’m pretty sure), I really don’t know enough about them to have a super definitive opinion. People seem to have mostly positive experiences with it, and it sure doesn’t affect me whether somebody I don’t know tries to make headmates through things like meditation. It’s obviously something quite different than DID, but I imagine it could work similarly in some ways, so I don’t really mind them using terms like ‘system’. I do understand the aversion to willogenics to some extent, though. I feel that sometimes too. And ultimately I think that’s because they get to make a choice that I wasn’t given. And they get to skip syscovery, and probably a lot of dissociation on top of that. It’s tempting to resent them, to assume they see it as a fun or frivolous thing, and are totally ignorant of our problems and suffering. But I don’t think that’s true.

They know what DID is. They know it’s usually caused by trauma, and often serious abuse. They know it is a serious disorder that can make life very difficult. They also know that they created headmates through meditation or something, and now they’re a system. Why should that upset us? Why do we think we own plurality just because we suffered more on the road here? Maybe you think they’re wrong about having headmates, but…. how would we know? Just because an experience isn’t accepted or understood by the field of psychology doesn’t mean it’s not happening. And I make a point to believe people about their own minds.

Just because they don’t have DID and have very different experiences to people with DID doesn’t mean they can’t acknowledge that those experiences do have some similarities. And it certainly doesn’t mean they can’t find community with OSDDID systems who want to normalize plurality itself in order to make life easier for all systems. It may seem “weird” to us, we might not understand it, but that doesn’t mean we should deny just because we originally learned that DID (and therefore plurality) can only form through extreme trauma. Aren’t a lot of the things we originally learned about DID wrong? Aren’t a lot of the things we assumed about it wrong? We, as a species, have never understood the human brain. Even doctors and educators make assumptions about what’s impossible without looking into it enough to prove that.

But when tons of people tell you they created headmates on purpose, and you don’t really have a reason to think they’re wrong other than “I don’t think that’s possible”, maybe it’s time to switch to, “idk how that works, but you do you”. It’s time to acknowledge that someone living their life in a way that you wouldn’t choose for yourself is actually completely fine. I mean, as long as they’re not hurting anybody obviously, but willogenics are not hurting anybody by being openly willogenic.

So yeah, endogenic systems are not inherently a threat to you or anyone else.

This post sums up my thoughts pretty well, so I might just refer people to it in the future. If you’re here from that, thanks for hearing what I have to say. I hope it helps you refine your worldview in some way. You don’t have to agree with everything I said here. I just hope you at least interact with people with more good faith (believing what they say until they give you a reason not to).

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s0fter-sin · 7 months ago

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soapghost circus au

ghost’s an extreme motorcycle stunt performer - globe of death, riding on his back wheel along tightropes, that sort of thing

soap’s a fire breather/dancer. he’s a roaming performer; he just finds empty spaces or bored people and starts twirling

he pretends not to notice the way he always wanders towards a certain tent every night to watch a certain masked daredevil defy gravity. he thinks he's slick and that ghost won't notice him in the crowd, completely forgetting that he's carrying something that happens to be on fire

ghost couldn't miss him if he tried

one day off, soap's trialing fire whips; he loves the loud crack and the way the flame licks through the air and maybe he's a little too impatient to practice with non flaming whips first, even though he's never used one before

he's covered in soot and fine welts where the tip of the whip keeps flicking back up at him, cutting through his shirt and stinging his skin but he doesn't let that stop him. it starts to stick to him, damp with sweat and blood and he's quick to strip it off; throwing it to the side to keep practicing

when soap finally gets a few good cracks in a row and breaks to celebrate, he almost jumps out of his skin when he sees the masked rider leaning against a trailer watching him

of all the times he's wanted ghost to talk to him, this is not one of them

he wanted to impress him, dance for him with his flaming batons and be mesmerised by his fluidity and skill

not catch him filthy and struggling with something as basic as a whip

he's ready for ghost to ream him out for not having control over the whip - he's known throughout the circuit for expecting utter perfection in his routines - but when ghost finally does speak, it's only to ask if he's done for the day

soap falters for a moment. he wanted to get some consistency with the whip before he stopped, but he's starting to feel the hours of practice; muscles aching and skin blistered with minor burns

he says he is and ghost pushes off the trailer, nodding his head to make soap follow. he brings him back to his trailer and tells him to clean up then takes out his personal med kit to treat the grazes on soap's skin

soap's shocked; for all that he loves to watch ghost perform, they've never really talked before

part of why he joined the circus was so he wouldn't be a burden on anyone, the oldest in a family with too many mouths to feed and not even time to nurture, and here he is taking up ghost's valuable practice time bc he wasn't good enough to handle his own discipline. he tries to brush him off, downplaying the burns and tries to leave before half them can be treated but ghost just glares and orders him to sit back down

ghost does expect perfection from himself but it isn’t out of any malice or ego; it's bc he knows if he isn't perfect, he could very easily die. he’s picked a dangerous profession and he gives it the respect it deserves. there isn't any shame in being a novice or failing at something; he thinks there's a lot of beauty in having the courage to get back up again and again

so every day he watches soap practice and bullies him into his trailer to put him back together bc he knows he won't do it by himself

and every night soap wanders over to ghost's section of the fair grounds, in awe of his skill and wishing he could be worthy of the care he gives him

#have i posted this before? yes but it has an actual idea behind it now #anyway back on my ‘soap pushes himself too hard to meet expectations only he is holding him to’ bullshit #price is obviously the ring master and id say gaz is probably trapeze #ghost used to work for robas circus who kept pushing him to do more and more dangerous stunts with less and less safety measures in place #and for a long time he thought thats how it was supposed to be #he was supposed to court death every night. supposed to limp back to his trailer and take care of his own injuries #and its only when price comes to one of his shows to scope out roba as competition and confronts him afterwards abt the conditions #that he realises something might be wrong #so seeing his past staring back at him in the form of soap hurts something deep within him and he has to make it right #he doesnt want soap to have to live with the same deep pains that he does #injuries that couldve been avoided if hed just gone easier on himself #coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #we’re a team. ghost team #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #john soap mactavish #soap cod #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #save post

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ancha-aus · 2 months ago

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Gifted Drabble - NewAgeAU - Blood Contract

Hello! I got a gift! I am not obsessed with your AU of my AU at all :D

Okay so... I may have gone a bit overboard. As always. It is just a gift for my friend. It is theirs to do with whatever they want :D So if you @spotaus like stuff from it be free to see it as canon :D and use however you like <3

I tried not to go too far with world building or lore because, again, it is yours but i always sneak in little things :3 Hope you like it :D

*-----------------*

Nim looks up from her papers as she glances through the window of her carrage.

Ugh. It is always so slow.

Her powers and her magic hums in her. Burning hotter than the sun in the desert. Warming than a burning fire. So ready to do waht is needed. So ready for her to pick what she wants and how.

And this is still the weak version of it all.

She sighs as she leans back. She is getting older. Her weak body isn't able to handle the magic as well as she used to. Good thing that her heir is almost here.

Nim looks to the side and grabs one of her special magical orbs. She had a few made specially for this trip. She activates it with a touch and the orb shows her own personal healer.

The healer bows and waits after a respectful "My king."

Nim hums as she lounges back in her soft seat "How is my heir?"

The healer walks to the side and there is the one carrying her heir. The healer uses magic and speaks to her "Both of the twins are growing well and even. Neither of the souls seems to be progressing quicker than the other and both are almost fully grown. The chances of both twins being born healthy is getting near the 60% now!"

Nim feels herself smile as she purrs softly "Finally."Finally good news. It had taken a long time for her to finally have one of her many mates manage to carry her a heir. The risk of carrying twins rather large and most of the monsters dying before the twins had a chance to be born. taking her possible heir with them to be one with the stars.

One of her many mates looks up at the orb and looks at her "My liege! I am so excited to meet your children! Will you be back soon?" they look at her. hopeful and desperate. Nim knows there is full loyalty.

Nim just gives a smile "I will be back when I get back." This trip is very necessary.

After all. The one carrying the twins won't survive. The soullings will be too big for the carrying soul to handle or deliver safely. meaning the temporary mother will die soon after the twins birth. and Nim will take her rightful place as their mother.

But Nim is a very busy woman. Very busy and very powerful. She does not have the time to raise two children. One of which to the perfect sacrifice and the other as her perfect heir.

Which is why she is looking for the right person to take care of her heir.

She smiles as she remembers herself. the rush of power. the emotions running high. claiming what was rightfully hers and growing so much more powerful. Her first mate. There ready for her to finally claim as hers as they had always been.

Nim sighs wishfully. Such a shame they didn't live long. They had been perfect in every way. So handsome and kind. With her every step of the way. They had even managed to carry twins on the first try!

Only for them to die. Their soul burst when the soullings grew too large.

The soullings had survived.

She had killed them.

And she started over.

Attachments are a weakness waiting to be exploid.

But this time! This time! it will be perfect. her little heir will have the perfect little first mate. She will encourage her heir to have multiple mates. form a harem early on. the first one to start it off and keep track of it and the others to make possible heirs.

It will be perfect. Just like their kingdom.

The carriage stops and Nim leaves it. It is some poor useless town. Just useful to retrieve sacrifices from.

Or... to find someone who seemed promising. This better be worth her trip. the last four options had been lacking.

She walks through the town. Her guards behind her with her few items she picked for this. People see her and look away right away. they bow and do not make eye contact.

Good.

They are all beneath her.

She walks straight to the place she had found. She gets to a small shack of a place. seems like it is a small store for everyday needs. Most likely the only spot for this small town to get things.

She walks in.

There is a skeleton behind the counter who looks shocked before quickly bowing and muttering softly "My king. You honour us." another skeleton walks out of the back but quickly bows at the sight of her.

Fear in the air.

Nim holds up a hand "Rise." both skeletons rise as she looks around. the two adults. where is number three? "I am here for a very special quest. Everyone in the household is to come outside. This plac eis far beneath me." ugh. The very fact she had to step into this raggy run down mess of a store. selling cheap and second hand wares?

disgusting.

She leaves the store and walks out to the street. people are watching through the windows and a few remain by the edges of the road.

It takes only a moment before the first skeleton walks out. He stands before the store and kneels down on the ground and stays kneeled.

A few moments later the skeleton from behind the counter walks out. behind her walks a much smaller and younger skeleton. There he is.

She joins her husband and kneels as well. The younger skeleton moves to join his parents but Nim holds up a hand and snaps her finger.

The young skeleton freezes and stares at her for a moment before looking down adn mtutering "I... I... I will... kneel? sorry?" he keeps looking down adn shaking as fear hangs heavy around him. There is even more fear from the two skeletons already kneeling.

Nim walks over to the child and looks at him "How old are you?"

the child flinches but speaks "I am seven your highness..." and he stays silent.

Nim nods to herself. That is the right age after all! At least this time her sources were useful and correct. It is often a hit and miss if the sources turn out to be either of those.

Nim nods and looks at one of her guards "Bring me the seeing orb."

She ignores the fear around the skeletons. and how more fear joins their feelings from the people around them. They should be afraid. The only thing which lets them live as they are is her mercy. They should be thankful that they are even allowed to stay near her very presence.

The guard walks over and gives her the seeing orb. She aims it at the young skeleton and speaks "Who will he be if I choose him." And she stares into the orb.

It takes a moment. a few quick flashes. She sees her castle. Lessons. training. filling meals and-

oh?

Seems like this child will be an exceptional pretty skeleton.

Good. It would just be poor planning if she gave her heir an ugly first mate. she looks to the guards and nods before looking at the skeleton as she hands the orb back "What are you called?" Hopefully it is a good eough name. otherwise she will have to spend energy on thinking off a better one.

The skeleton shrinks futher in on himself but answers "My name is Ccino mister- i mean... my king..."

nim considers the name. Ccino is not a name you hear often. it is clearly not a royal name but it is rare enough to not be obvious as a commoner name...

Nim nods "You may keep that one." she naps her fingers "To the carriage."

Ccino looks confused but her guards walk over and grab him. He lets out a distressed chirp as he looks back to his parents "mom? Dad?!"

both skeletons had risen to their feet "Ccino?!"

The mother looks at her begging "please... please why are you taking ccino? we... we payedour taxes and gave most of the extra we earned! we swear we have prove and documents to proof this!"

The other skeleton tries to get to ccino but guards blcok him. Ccino is pushed into her carriage and the carriage is locked. Ccino looks through the window clearly panicked and with tears running down his face.

Nim slowly turns to the skeleton daring to speak to her "There is a very important position which he will be filling."

The skeleton trembles as she glares at Nim. Tears running down her face "That is my son!"

nim just watches the other. unimpressed and annoyed "Adn you are being hysterical. Then again." she snaps her fingers and the guards grab both adult skeletons "It is important that new servants know their place."

Nim slowly pulls out a contract she had put together. As long as the child is underaged his parents will be in charge of binding documents concerning him. She uses magic and the contract unrolls. Nim taps it ones and her own signature appears on it before letting a few of her own drops of blood fall on it.

Nim speaks calmly "You will sign this. and Ccino will be property of the royal family." she lets it fly closer to the held skeletons.

the female shakes her skull and struggles "No! Never!" The other skeleton is much the same.

Nim sighs as she raises a hand. She can't believe she has to use some of her actual powers for this. it is as if these idiots don't even see the oppertunity. that a future in the castle will be much brighter and perfect than whatever mess of a life he could have here.

both skeletons shudder as they slowly raise their hands.

"No! No! Please don't! Don't take our son! please!"

The begging is annoying and their desperation is hard to control.

See? This is exactly why she will make sure her heir is much stronger. Much much stronger.

The signatures appear on the paper and the guards raise both the parents hands above the contract. Nim watches as the guards cut both hands and blood drips unto it.

Sealing the deal and contract with magic and blood.

It rolls itself up and nim takes it as the skeletons sob and beg. She waves towards the building the both are moved into it before the door closes.

Nim watches the building for a moment before using a simple fire spell to set it ablaze.

The flames are mesmorising.

The screams and cries are annoying.

She watches until the fire dies down. she watches as the guards search the remains. Only returning with dust mixed with the ashes. No way to even know which is which.

She turns her back on the no longer existing building and walks towards her carriage. she enters it and takes a seat in her usual spot before turning her sight on the shaking ball of bones in the corner. Sobbing and crying loudly.

Nim speaks as they start moving "You will pull yourself together if you wish to be useful. I have no need for useless things."

Once he had the first few classes she will tell him what his role will be.

No need to explain to someone who may not even make it through the first week.

If he does however make it through? He will need lessons on how to care for children and all that comes with it.

But she has people for that. No need to get herself involved more than she needs.

She relaxes as she looks through the window. Enjoying the view.

What a perfect day in the perfect kingdom.

#utmv #NewAgeAU #new age au drabble #ccino has it rough you guys #spot and I were talking about ccino and everything that could have lead him to where he is now and well.#I just had this idea and it would not let me go so i have been typing this for a while now :D #we feel bad for ccino in this house #I am sorry i really love him though!#I also have so many thoughts concerning monster twins but there is no way to add it in the drabble so i will just leave it here!#In short. Twins are very rare because they are almost impossible to carry to term #my headcanon is that soullings are carried in the soul of the mother themself. to develop magic and everything.#but that the soulling will first grow fully in the soul into a fully developed soul. then leave the soul and form their body using magic.#yes which means very tiny body but compared to that very large soul.#my headcanon has always been that full grown soullings are anywhere between 50% to 70% of the size of an normal adult soul.#so twins? twice those type of souls?#yeah the mother soul bursts before the soullings can fully develop.#which adds another layer of horror to this kingdom in this au so i thought i would add it :D #and that is it! I need to go to bed because it has been a LONG day.

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statementlou · 1 year ago

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i’m sorry to bring this up again, but i wanted to ask how are you making sense of harry having his former girlfriend’s name tattooed on his thigh if you don’t think they were really together? i’m not a larrie and i follow you for your louis content, but i respect your opinions, so i guess i’m coming more from a place of curiosity rather than seeking reassurance. do you not even entertain for one second the idea that you might’ve been wrong about things? that harry was really in a relationship with olivia? that he might actually be attracted to women? that he might’ve been with louis once upon a time but not anymore? have you ever challenged your confirmation bias? again, i’m not trying to attack you, i really just want to understand where you stand. i hope u don’t take this the wrong way.

well first of all you bring up the very good point that there are actually multiple Qs at play and not just one, despite the fandom's (and my) attempts to simplify things. I personally am open to the possibility that Harry and Louis are no longer together- we don't have enough info to say for sure either way about that, and I am constantly recalibrating and considering and I'm going to be totally honest, getting flat out ANNOYED at how often I find myself being like oh damn they ARE still (or again) together ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? Because it seems so improbable and illogical! You think I don't KNOW I sound fucking crazy?! Absolutely infuriating, and yet there are just all these little Things all the time. Plus ofc the fact that they both constantly wink wink larrie stuff to the fandom which could just be playing to the crowd... except then they both continually take it that little extra way that makes me go oh but... you really didn't NEED to go THERE that seems VERY pointed?? But also sometimes I go well. Okay, maybe not. Since they both seem super happy at this point, it doesn't stress me out to think they might have split, the way it would if they seemed miserable and were still churning out heartbreak songs, but it's schrodingers relationship and with all the savvy they've acquired around this stuff and all the balls they're keeping in the air wrt to fandom etc that's unlikely to change in favor of us knowing anything for sure for a very long time, if ever. But I do not doubt that they WERE together, it's simply not realistic. The evidence of it is overwhelming and imo undeniable when taken all together. And the thing is that knowing one thing with certainty (that they were together back when), having really looked at the things that happened during that time, does actually have a lot of bearing on the rest of it even if they aren't together anymore. Because knowing that and having seen the way fake relationships to make them seem straight were managed back then means that when I see the EXACT SAME things being done in the current day, like they are working from a fucking blueprint, no, I don't look at that and think it might be real. I know that Louis and Eleanor wasn't real in... whenever they allegedly got together lol, that story still isn't even quite straight, so why would I believe they were together in 2020? And if I know Louis has a tattoo for a fake girlfriend why would it change my mind about a million things I can see with my own eyes if Harry did the same (if indeed he even has who tf knows)? So despite what I said at the beginning, in the end it kind of does just come down to the one question people are always asking, are you a larrie? Because when you've actually been down the rabbit hole of details that ends up with you saying yes to that question, it's like acquiring a rosetta stone that unlocks the ability to read everything else, like putting on xray glasses, and I look at what is so obviously a publicity relationship (holivia) and whether H and L are still together has nothing to do with why I don't think it's real. Like could a celeb relationship be both used in typical ways for publicity and be or become real on some level (looking at you Liam, heyyy), sure, but for this question the fact that I have never seen Harry show the slightest sign of attraction to a woman in his whole life and he so clearly embraces and identifies so strongly with gay male culture in every possible way and never shuts up about how much he loves cock does play into my thinking; I simply do not think he is attracted to women, no, and I have yet to see him do anything that doesn't seem consistent with things a closeted pop star might chose to do. So in conclusion yes I have challenged my bias and decided I'm right lol! But for real- all the time I consider that they perhaps aren't together but that isn't really the point when it comes to believing they are gay.

#I feel like the follow up anons to this will logically be SO WHY NOT BRAD so lemme just jump on that cause I don't really want to #have a whole thing about that #honestly for me it's WHY BRAD. It makes perfect sense for him to be with harry all the time (and therefore for them to borrow each others #jumpers yes) so why would I think they were dating any more than I think H is dating his security guard or luis. the fandom just latches #onto the idea that people around them who they think would look hot with are a thing but other than that literally NOTHING about this guy's #association with H is actually different than many other employee/pals imo and I see literally nothing that suggests anything going on ther #so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#I mean I DO think Harry has weirdly fluid boundaries around considering his employees friends in a way that seems like he doesn't #really GET the power differential possibly (because how could he he's been on that side of it his whole adult life) but I'm not there #behind the scenes with them; hopefully that's not the case #but that's a separate issue #blah blah blah #long post #I TRIED to keep it short and tidy but NO people gonna ask the long form questions #which btw I appreciate I do enjoy a good thoughtful anon thx

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mtt-burger-emporium · 1 year ago

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thinking about chara and the implications of the line "chara hated humanity. why, they never said..." like ok i KNOW something was happening at home. chara baby you didn't deserve that shit i'm so glad you fell down a thousand feet in a cave hole and right into the arms of people who would keep you fed roof over your head and would never raise their hand against you. "eradicate humanity" you're 10 years old how about eradicating your shitfucked surface fam by calling cps first

#soda.txt #chara #(ok idk if this will work but LEEEENGTHY discussion of child abuse below)#ok listen hear me out on this- i know the initial interpretation is a sui attempt WHICH I ALSO AGREE WITH- BUT LISTEN #i believe there was something else going on leading to the whole ''eradicate humanity'' bit and the obvious answer is an unsafe homelife #well. at least for me.#being around people (or perhaps adults) who hurt you and make you feel unsafe in a place where you should be welcomed with open arms and-#a promise of care would probably make any child feel like all of humanity was (in simple terms) cruel and uncaring #so hearing about somewhere they could GET AWAY FROM THAT? of course they'd take that opportunity and run.#chara was just lucky enough to fall into a place that pulled them out of the ideology of ''all of humanity is cruel''#because the dreemurrs were kind and patient enough to take them in and give them a new family #and wouldn't anyone want that?#for the part of The Plan (the buttercups) i think.. i think that one was formed by the idea that chara felt obligated to-#pay the dreemurrs back for their kindness. not that the dreemurrs would have made them. just by their own mental code.#what better way to pay a kind family back- one that took you in and cared for you like one of their own- then by forming a plan to-#set their people free?#they've been stuck down there for so long. they've wanted to feel the sun for SO LONG. why not give yourself up to grant that dream?#idk if these thoughts are coherent. LOL sorry i kinda just started saying words huh #but its ok.#feel free to ask me questions ab my interp of chara btw teehee ^_^ i love talking about chara they're my favorite theyre so silly #ok now for the proper tags on this bitch #chara undertale #chara dreemurr #child abuse mention #suicide mention #tw child abuse #safeutdr #OH ANALYSIS TAG UHHH UMM #🧪lab notes

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help-me-find-a-name-please-lol · 1 year ago

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CM HOTCH/REID HEADCANONS

My headcanon about Hotch leaving in Season 12, Reid's reaction, and trying to have it make some kind of sense.

Disclaimers:

This is the first rewatch of the later seasons I've done since it aired on TV, and I've only just finished Season 12 episode 4 (I do, however, know the early seasons ridiculously well).

From LDSK onwards, I only ever really watched it for Hotch, Reid, and the Hotch/Reid dynamic. I didn't really watch it after Hotch left, but caught bits and pieces because my roomates did.

Yes I know why Thomas Gibson left the show and why they had to suddenly wrap up his character. No, I don't condone violence in the workplace. I also never dove deeply into the behind-the-scenes lore of this show, cast and crew interviews, etc etc. This will purely be relating to the show as it was depicted on screen, and my love for the characters as their own entities.

I am not going back to fully source which eps all my observations come from, cos I'm supposed to be working on an assignment rn and CM transcripts are a ducking nightmare. I just wanted to put this idea out there cos I think we all need a bit of self-soothing after the crap they fed us to write Hotch out of the show.

Also fun story I just came back to finish writing this after being interrupted by what I though was someone trying to break into my house at 4am (heard a noise, gate wide open, can't see anyone but damn, scary. My town's big on crime, too). SO my thoughts may now be even more disorganised thanks to the adrenaline crash headache I'm currently experiencing.

So anyway like I said, just finished watching S12E04 Keeper, during which Reid gets a call we don't hear, is visibly upset by it, and takes a bit of prodding to discuss it with JJ and Rossi. He then reveals that he was just told his mother left her care facility on her own and was found wandering confused around a casino. He takes minimal convincing to head back to Quantico and lines himself up another couple of days off to visit his mum (yes I'm Australian, this is how we spell it lol).

MY HEADCANON: This is when Hotch called Reid to tell him that he was going into witness protection and wouldn't be coming back. (Exactly how much was discussed on the phone vs possibly being discussed/explained later in person is of course open to interpretation, but enough for Reid to know Hotch wanted to say goodbye and to not tell the rest of the team).

I know that his mum's issues are an ongoing valid storyline. But this is why it was also a plausible excuse for Reid to come up with on the spot as to why he was upset.

Another thing that makes it entirely plausible that the phone call was about Hotch is the long, significant staring Reid did at Prentiss as she walked away after they discuss what supposedly happened with his mum. To me that could scream that Reid was actually dealing with something team-related, and was already grieving how it would affect the other members of his team that he's keeping it from. He could have gazed down or elsewhere to communicate his worry for his mum to the audience, but he specifically turned and watched Prentiss leave, looking all angsty.

What's a heck of a lot less plausible:

His mum, who has been in care since Reid became a legal adult, suddenly escaping her care facility, despite having been in care for well over a decade and who now needs even more supervision due to Alzheimer's on top of her Schizophrenia. Yeah, escapes happen, but to make it all the way into a casino and being found in a confused state? When this didn't happen before Reid flew up and got her diagnosed her with Alzheimers? Even though she'd been getting some increased freedoms for doing well on her new meds prior to her sudden worsening with the Alzheimer's onset?

Hotch leaving without saying something directly to Reid first. Yeah, I'm a shipper, and I know Hotch has his son to think about, but I call BULLSHIT. Hotch knows all about Reid's abandonment issues and there is no way he'd want to end up on the same mental list Reid keeps alongside Reid's father and Gideon. When Gideon went AWOL, Hotch returned from suspension, despite the fight he knew it would cause with his wife, because "the team" needed him. Then Haley stressed "no, they need Gideon". Fully believe this was all just about Reid (I also kinda low-key believe Haley had an inkling about Hotch's thing for Reid but anyway). Hotch, Reid and Morgan functioned as a team while Gideon was on leave after the bomber case, Morgan didn't even really want Gideon to come back and would not have been that thrown by his absence. Reid however we all know was very emotionally-involved. And it's Reid that Hotch pulls aside to get his head back in the game (and who then gives them a breakthrough in the case shortly after, at Hotch's encouragement). When Gideon had officially left and Hotch addressed the team about it, he mostly directed what he was saying towards Reid, when he said that he couldn't explain why he'd left the way he did, etc. And when Hotch was trying to decide whether he'd take over as section chief after Strauss left, again he was addressing the team but pretty much turned and spoke directly to Reid when he said something along the lines of "if I decide to leave the BAU, you'll be the first to know". He also saw how much it killed Reid to be lied to about Prentiss (and you can see he felt like shit about it during Reid's assessment). This man. Would NOT. Have left Reid without saying goodbye. That's the hill I'm dying on. On top of that, Hotch is always the most emotionally-compromised whenever Reid is in danger, and he knows it (he let Gideon know he was currently a terrible example of "handling things emotionally" while Reid was being held by Hankel, resulting in Gideon's weak reassurance of "We'll get him"; when Reid got on that train with Elle he tried to stop it then immediately went to chat with the sniper; when Reid was in the cult compound he had to hand off negotiations to Rossi; when Reid was protecting Owen Savage; heck he practically yeeted Morgan out of the way when Reid was trying to talk down Maeve's stalker and they heard a gunshot. Etc etc.). And whenever Hotch gets emotionally affected by other things (eg that defence attorney for amnesia/coma guy, or regarding his brother), Reid is the one who can break through that and keep him steady. Reid is VERY IMPORTANT to Hotch and I don't see him hurting Reid in what to him is the worst way someone could do it.

Reid being so chill about Hotch suddenly leaving without saying goodbye. Goes without saying, yeah? But I'll say it. I get that they've been trying to paint him as more emotionally-mature and that he was able to handle Morgan leaving, but it is SO not the same relationship or circumstance and Reid would not have taken Hotch's departure in stride like that. I get that they also wanted the show and its characters to move on as quickly and as apparently unaffected as possible, but it still clearly flies in the face of proper characterisation. Reid is brilliant and back when he was being held by Hankel, I'm sure he could have found any number of ways to communicate with a specific team member at that moment, but he chose Hotch. He knew Hotch would be the only one capable of putting his ego aside at being "picked to die" and to listen properly to the rest of Reid's message. Once he confirmed that his message was correct and that he was in a cemetery, Reid was so sure that Hotch understood his message and would be coming to save him that he let his guard down for the first time. I think he only picked up that gun and shot Hankel with it in the end to just superstitiously make sure that the bullet never did reach Hotch (and to "free" Tobias, or whatever. Either way Hankel wasn't going for the gun or to use Reid as a shield when he turned to face off with the FBI and any of them could have taken him down easily). They've only been getting closer and closer over the years, on-screen and off (Fist-bump anyone? Always standing close together? Plus Reid's been teaching Jack magic tricks and was the one to get him smiling and laughing after Hotch got arrested by SWAT, which you know would make Hotch even more gooey for him). They're 100% an army of 2/hyper-competent power couple (take for instance the way Hotch and Reid were mirrored against Garcia and Kevin when she referred to her own pairing as the President and Vice-President after the bank blew up?) who can probably achieve 90% of the team's success level on their own. That super-serial-killer chick may have talked about Reid losing a "protector" in Morgan, but Hotch has always been the one Reid has come to or looked to. He was pretty distraught about the idea of Hotch leaving to be Section Chief, not that long ago, too. Also, constant super-crush behaviour which I could list but this post is already very long. Reid would not just immediately go "Prentiss is our leader now, this'll be great!". FFS.

Anyway we all know the way they wrote Hotch off was bullshit, hence the suuuper-long monologue to explain everything that's apparently happened off-screen, and yeah he'd totally enter WITSEC without even telling the team (until he decided to resign) when Peter Lewis had already hacked it once and killed the person on it before the team figured out who he was after and got there 🙄. All of it is super implausible. But to me, nothing more so than Reid's poor imitation of shock/surprise and almost total lack of emotional reaction. Him knowing beforehand, because Hotch already said goodbye to him, is the only thing that will ever make me be at peace with this crap from an in-universe POV.

This could all be shot to pieces in the next ep lol, but for now I'm just glad my brain has a way to make sense of it.

#criminal minds #hotchreid #hotch/reid #heid #sorry for the super long rant #that hasn't been proofread #and my copy-paste went funny so God only knows if the same phrase I tried to move is somewhere in this post like 10 times #I wouldn't normally share but #there's not a lot of hotch/reid content #so I thought I might as well #I realise I also spewed a whole bunch of my other headcanons out there in a half-developed way #if someone takes issue with them I hope I get to explain before they yell at me that I'm wrong #like don't just assume I have poor media literacy folks. Tonight's idea may be half-formed but I can back the rest of my shit up #at least as well as any other subtextual fan-theory #ok hey it's now 6:30am!#goodnight!#😅😅😅

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