#acting as if i have this responsibility to not share my true thoughts because it ruins the mood? kills your excitement? when you ASKED ME??
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autism-alley · 10 months ago
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something i feel responders to pjo criticisms are not getting is book accuracy is important.
rick riordan created this project to be a book accurate adaptation on the screen. it doesn’t matter if annabeth is white and blonde, those people who are mad about that are wrong and their “criticisms” should be just thrown out. no, i’m talking real criticism. because being upset a series whose reason for existing is to be a faithful adaptation isn’t? not stupid. if you can enjoy the series—in my opinion not all the changes are objectively bad, but many, from a storytelling angle? from pure craftsmanship? are objectively bad—regardless, i’m happy for you. truly, if you feel the joy and magic the original series gave me while watching this show, i am overjoyed someone feels the magic. that’s more magical to me, worth more, than the show itself. but if you then insult me for not enjoying the show? tell me i must not love the story as much as you? tell me i am simply looking to hate the newest next thing, and not that i adore this series so much it pains me to see it so? that i don’t wish to see it succeed regardless of the betrayal i feel?
silly me, i thought our shared love of something meant we could all express it, even in different ways. but i guess not. i guess many of the series’ fans are just keen to discuss the show with the same bad faith it was made in.
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gb-patch · 3 months ago
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GB Patch Games: Sensitivity Reader Update
Okay, well I am able to make another statement before Rose does. I can now explain much more easily why I didn’t fire Rose. There’s been new developments with the leakers. The people behind this have doxed Rose’s discord account (please don’t go looking for it) and also shared a screenshot of an email that was sent to my support address months ago. They believe that incriminates us somehow, but really all it’s done is shown in broad daylight what they were doing and why I was defending Rose so much. If I had brought up that email as a connection to this myself people understandably would’ve thought I was making a conspiracy.
However, it is out now. Here is the story- a few months ago someone who wanted to remain anonymous sent me an email with a screenshot where Rose called me a cracker. And I told them I appreciated the concern but it’s alright, was there evidence of Rose being unkind to players? They had nothing. No response.
As an aside, yes, I have been aware for a long time that Rose uses crude language when talking about me. That doesn’t mean I’ve hidden how evil they were from players. It means I’m allowed to choose what I’m comfortable with. That original “reveal” didn’t shock or upset me in any way. Our Life is a sensitive, wholesome game, but I’m a full-grown adult. I’m not innocent or pure. The game I released before OL is XOXO Blood Droplets. Something I wrote and released to the public is full of crude jokes, curse words, and violence. It’s cartoonish and comical, but edgy. Rose themselves likes to BS with bad words and I’m not accepting abuse because I think getting called a pussy is funny. I know Rose doesn’t hate me or wish me any harm. Rose also isn’t causing “discourse” for me and my games on purpose, they were joking that bringing up serious topics is “discourse” to some people. Ironically, the leakers who did this are trying to make some “discourse” on purpose.
Regardless, I initially thought that email was from someone earnestly worried for me and that they moved on when it was clear I was fine. But that’s not what happened. Them and at least one other person have been waiting for months to bring this up again. They went through almost a year’s worth of Rose’s private posts to collect as many unflattering screenshots as they could, and then they didn’t send them to me. They posted them publicly. I had a suspicion from the get go that it was the same person/people from before who couldn’t prove anything to me in private. And if true, how horrible is it that a bunch of the comments they shared were crude language towards me, something they already knew I’d brush off as nothing. They decided for me that it was wrong and they wanted the rest of the players to do the same. Or even less charitably, those extra posts were simply there to make Rose look as bad and untrustworthy as possible and they didn’t care that I was comfortable with it. I could not explain everything we were thinking/feeling at first, but behind the scenes we were discussing how this was personally motivated and not a knee-jerk act without forethought. And we do know for certain at least the main people involved now, and they do have personal issues with Rose.
Also, if you still believe that they just wanted to help the game at any length because Rose is that huge of a risk, showing that email and framing something innocuous about me (not fainting at the word “cracker” and politely being open to more proof) as serious “evidence of wrongdoing” at GB Patch Games makes me believe they want to smear Rose so bad they’ll try to turn players against me as well. Plus, the post is framed as “this email was anonymously sent to me”, but we know from account details that the people who could’ve gotten those screenshots of the discord and email are the same people who sent that email and started this situation, which is embarrassing. I’ve confirmed the screenshots shared in the email to me and the original public post came from the same private, “venting-safe” discord server. There’s very few people in there. We know it’s still you and not a separate source. I can’t prove they think I’m stupid or in their way, but I can’t see how anything they’re doing is trying to be beneficial to the creation of OL: NF. They told me in the email they’d give me more evidence if I requested it and I was ready to know, but instead they went silent for months and then did this.
I want it to be clear that this doesn’t mean players can’t wonder if Rose has enough experience to be a sensitivity reader right now, or to worry they’re so invested in the game that it’s going to effect how objective they are with their feedback, or to say that Rose is flawless and has never done anything hurtful. However, I hope you can understand why I was on Rose’s side and couldn’t just fire them over this. It felt so incredibly unfair. If another person tries to get their way by doing this in the future, I will not hail them as a hero and immediately fire at the target. And I don't tolerate any racial harassment of any kind to anyone on my team.
If those people want to continue to share Rose’s private posts in retaliation, you can fuck off. If you somehow reveal now that Rose is secretly a murderer, I’m not gonna apologize and say I was so wrong about you. If you had tons of evidence of Rose being horrible to players, you should’ve sent it all to me and with full context to begin with in the email like you offered to do. I just don’t understand.
Any players who like to see someone’s least flattering points portrayed in the worst possible way and continue flocking to the leaks as fandom drama, I don’t want you in this fandom. I don’t want you to enjoy my games.
Anyone who has been truly hurt by this and are left confused and angry, I do completely understand that. I didn’t know how to handle this, and it made a lot of people not know how to keep trusting me. I am still looking into getting a community manager to help me better communicate with players, especially when something serious happens. And I’ll always be around for you to reach out to if you have doubts about anything.
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pedroscurls · 2 months ago
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training partners (pt. 3)
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summary: you continue to spend more time with hugh, realizing just how different your lives are and while it scares you, hugh does a great job at reassuring you. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), reader has some description (hair, outfit), angst - mentions of a past toxic relationship (gaslighting) reader thinks too much and has insecurities, suggestive smut (brief oral - f receiving), no use of y/n. word count: 3.9k a/n: ok, so this relationship is moving fast but let's be honest, i feel like hugh would definitely know a good thing when he sees it lol. this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman (it's the only way i can live out my fantasies of this man lol). prev part. - next part.
You wake up the sounds of Hugh’s quiet snores. You still can’t believe you spent the night. One of his arms is draped over your waist and you’re very aware of the lack of clothing between the both of you. True to his word, Hugh devoured you last night. His tongue, his lips, his fingers– the man knew exactly what he was doing. You were hesitant at first, seeing him between your legs, mouth inches away from where you needed him the most. He could sense your nervousness and had gently placed a soft kiss on the inside of your thigh. 
It was such a simple act, but it provided all the reassurance you needed. Hugh was the first ever person to go down on you and you fear that he’s ruined it for you. If this didn’t work out, you’re sure that there won’t ever be another man to do it like him.
You’re lying on your back, arm resting over his. He looks so peaceful, so unbothered by the responsibilities and realities of the world. His snores even provide a level of comfort that you know can lull you back to sleep. It had only been a week since meeting him and while you certainly didn’t plan for any of this to happen, you can’t imagine it being any different. 
You liked Hugh. A lot, and it scared you. Not because you didn’t think you weren’t ready to get into another relationship, but because your worlds were just vastly different. 
But you remember what he said yesterday and it brings a smile to your lips.
“I don’t want this to be casual.”
You turn slightly to face him, watching as he moves with you, lying on his back instead as his arm drops from your waist. You lie on your side, bringing your fingertips to gently run across his chest. He’s still snoring, but you can’t help but notice the marks you left on his body. The scratch marks on his arms and you’re sure there are more on his back. 
This doesn’t feel real. It’s like you’re in some kind of dream and you’re afraid to wake up, not wanting this to end. Yesterday had been one of the best days you’ve had in a very long time and you had Hugh to thank. Not only was the sex amazing, but the conversations and laughter you both shared was just as great. 
You know you shouldn’t be comparing Hugh to your ex-boyfriend, but you can’t help but reflect on just how different they both were. Whenever you were talking, Hugh always made sure to keep his attention fully on you, eyes staring into yours, hand holding yours or resting on your back. With Hugh, you felt seen. You felt heard. You felt like your voice mattered. 
With your ex-boyfriend, you always felt like you were bothersome. He had always been very short with you, always on his phone, and very disinterested in what you had to say. Towards the end of your relationship with him, you had learned to keep quiet, learned to keep your thoughts and opinions to yourself. It wasn’t until the relationship ended that you realized just how much your ex-boyfriend gaslit you and your emotions. 
But with Hugh… You felt validated. You had to wonder if it had to do with the age difference. Your ex-boyfriend was just a year older than you; with Hugh being much older, you couldn’t help but think about all of the life experiences he must have gone through to get to where he is now. 
With Hugh, you feel so much more grounded. 
Wanting to surprise him with breakfast, you slowly climb out of bed and pull on your panties. You carefully tiptoe into his closet, making sure not to make too much noise. You pull on one of Hugh’s white button down shirts and slip it on, buttoning just a few buttons to at least cover yourself up. 
Then, you leave his bedroom and make your way to his kitchen. You don’t know if this is overstepping any boundaries, but you wanted to do something nice for him, especially after yesterday. 
You’re taken aback by the view of the city again. Hugh was right, watching the sunset last night was worth staying. His kitchen is so much larger than yours and you’re not sure where he keeps his pots and pans, so you open the cupboards to try and find them. When you do, you grab one large pan and place it on top of his stove and then open his fridge. You see a carton of eggs and a bag of spinach that you take and place on the counter. You remember that Hugh’s on a strict diet, so what’s healthier than an egg and spinach omelet? 
You also see his coffee machine in the corner and your eyes light up in excitement. Having been a barista all throughout your college years, you knew your way around a good coffee machine. 
It takes you about twenty minutes to finish cooking and making coffee. You’re about to set the table when you hear footsteps round the corner. You look up at him to see that he’s completely shirtless, but that he has put on a pair of sweatpants that hangs low at his hips. His hair is slightly disheveled and he’s yawning, but when his eyes meet yours, there’s a large grin that forms on his lips.
“Did you make me breakfast?” he calls out, walking over to you. 
“And coffee,” you point out. “I hope you don’t mind,” you say nervously. “I wanted to do something for you since yesterday was just such an amazing day and–”
Hugh interrupts you and cups your cheeks in his large hands, bending down to press his lips against yours softly. “I don’t mind at all, love.” Then, he pulls back enough to look down at what you’re wearing and he bites his lower lip. “And I certainly don’t mind this at all.” 
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you move to rest your hands on his broad chest. “I couldn’t find my shirt, so…”
“You could’ve also just walked around naked,” Hugh winks. “That would have been just as an amazing sight as this.”
You roll your eyes playfully and pull away from him, but he takes your wrist and pulls you back into his arms. 
“Wait,” he says quietly. 
“Hm?” 
“Good morning,” Hugh smiles, kissing your forehead. “Yesterday and last night was… It was wonderful.” 
“It was the best day,” you say softly, leaning into him. “One of the best I’ve had in a while.” 
“I can get used to having you here,” Hugh admits. “Is that– Am I moving too fast here?” 
You shake your head and run your hands to his chest and arms, gently squeezing his biceps as you bite your lower lip. “No, I just–” you sigh. “What if you get tired of me?” 
“I won’t,” Hugh reassures you. 
“But what if–” you shake your head, trying to force the negative thoughts out. You realize it’s lingering in the back of your mind. “You’re you and I’m me.” 
Hugh’s hands move to your hips, gently squeezing them. “He really hurt you, didn’t he?” Hugh asks quietly. 
“Hugh…” 
“I’m not him, baby.” 
“I know you aren’t.”
“Good because I know a good thing when I see it,” Hugh affirms. 
You bite your lower lip and look deeply into his eyes, feeling your heart swell at his words and at the sight of him. You can tell how serious he is, how his gaze doesn’t falter. “I like being here. With you,” you admit. “And I’m not just saying that because the sex is amazing.”
“But that’s one of the reasons, isn’t it?” Hugh winks, letting out a quiet chuckle. “You know, I haven’t slept that good in a very long time. Something about having you next to me brought me a lot of comfort.”
“You have a way of words, don’t you?” You smile, leaning up to gently peck his lips. 
Hugh laughs quietly and pulls away from you to walk over to the plate of food. “I just tell the truth, baby.” 
You roll your eyes and sit on the stool, looking up at him as he takes a bite of the egg and spinach omelet you created for him. He lets out a quiet groan of approval and looks in your direction, grinning. 
“So, you can cook too?” 
“And make coffee,” you wink. 
Hugh arches a brow and takes a sip of his americano, brows raising upwards. “Wow. Yeah, I need you around here like… All the time. Can we arrange that, you think?” 
“Hmm,” you look up in thought, resting an elbow on the island. “I will need some closet space, a corner on your bathroom counter–”
Hugh lets out a laugh and sets his fork down to walk towards you, turning your body on the stool until your back is resting against the counter and his hands rest at either side of you, caging you in. He bends down so that you’re at eye level with him, a smirk lining his lips. 
“Whatever you want, baby, you’re gonna get.” He leans in, brushing his lips against yours. 
You move to wrap around arms lazily around his shoulders and stare into his eyes, running your fingers through his hair. “You should finish your breakfast. You’re bulking up for Wolverine, so you need your calories.” 
“I also need some cardio too,” Hugh grins. “Wanna join in on the session?” 
You bite your lower lip in anticipation and nod slowly. “Meet you upstairs?” 
Hugh shakes his head and moves his hand to your hips, lifting you off the stool with ease and placing you on the edge of the counter. “No, baby, gonna need you to wait right here for me.” 
“Like a good girl?” you ask, bringing your hands to play with the buttons 
Hugh grins and nods, continuing to eat as he stares at you,eyes dropping to see your legs cross over one another. Then, he reaches out and taps your knee. “Leave ‘em open for me.” 
You nod and then spread your legs for him, looking up at him in excitement.
Hugh’s eyes narrow and he takes the last bite of his omelet. He sets the plate in the sink and then walks to stand between your legs, reaching up to undo the button on the shirt you’re wearing. Once it opens, he clears his throat and moves his hands to push the shirt off your shoulders, exposing your chest to him. 
“Gonna have an early morning dessert, if ya don’t mind, baby.” Hugh smirks, hooking his fingers into your panties and sliding it down your legs. “Been thinking about this since last night. Tastes so good,” he growls. 
Then, Hugh dips down between your legs and you feel eyes roll in the back of your head once his tongue darts out to taste you. 
It’s been a full week since you spent the night and Hugh craves more and more of having you in his home with him. It’s been a very long time since he’s felt like this and he’s known to fall hard and fall fast, but he’s being careful this time around. He doesn’t want to push you if you aren’t ready, but he can’t help the way you make him laugh and smile, how he feels more at calm with you by his side, and how excited he gets whenever he falls asleep with you in his arms because he knows he’ll wake up with you by his side. 
Hugh knows that he’s going to get busier as the months pass, knowing that for the next year, he’s going to be focused on preparing to come back as Logan. While it should deter him from continuing to see you and committing himself to a relationship, it surprises him that it doesn’t. He isn’t the type of person to take things for granted and he always went after what he wanted, and you– Well, you have been such a nice surprise and he can’t even think about the possibility of letting you go. 
He thinks back to the last time you were here, teasing him about how you would need closet space and an area in his bathroom for your things. You might have been joking, but Hugh takes it seriously. He’s already given you more than enough space in his closet, walking inside to see the vacant space along the wall. He stands there, arms crossed over his chest, as he imagines your things here with his. 
Hugh’s mind drifts when he hears his phone ring. He looks down at it and sees your contact name; he always smiles at it: Swole-mate 💪
“Hi, baby,” Hugh answers immediately. He can’t ignore the way his heart rate speeds up, his stomach doing flips in excitement just to get a chance to hear your voice. “You almost here?” 
“Yeah, just a few minutes out,” he hears you say. “Are you sure spending the weekend is okay?” 
Hugh leaves his closet and begins descending the stairs to greet you. “If I had it my way, you’d be here for more than just the weekend.”
With the silence that comes from you, Hugh just knows that your mind has drifted and so when you pull into his driveway, he hangs up the phone and waits until you park to approach you. Once you climb out of your car, your eyes meet his and Hugh smiles, walking towards you. 
“Your mind just doesn’t shut off, does it?” Hugh says, taking your hand and gently pulling you to him. “What’s goin’ on in that beautiful head of yours, baby?” 
“Nothing,” you sigh, resting your cheek against his chest as your arms come up to wrap around him. You feel safe with him, but you know that you both need to have a serious conversation about where this will go. He had mentioned to you that his schedule was going to get busier and you wanted to know where you fit in with all of that before you allow yourself to fall in deeper. 
Hugh brings a hand to rub your back, placing a gentle kiss at the crown of your head. “I don’t believe ya,” he says. “Let me grab your things and we can head inside and talk?” 
You nod and release your hold on him, watching him walk towards your trunk to grab your duffle bag filled with clothes and toiletries to last for the rest of the weekend. Once he shuts your trunk, Hugh reaches out and takes your hand in his, leading you inside his home and up the stairs to his bedroom. 
You’ve been thinking so much since the last time you were here, trying your best to stay in the moment and not expect too much, but when Hugh mentioned his schedule for the next few months, you started to pull away. You didn’t want to put your all into this if it wasn’t going to go anywhere. Hugh sits at the edge of his bed and looks up at you, head tilting to the side. 
You’re pacing back and forth in front of him and he reaches out for your hand to pull you to stand between his legs. 
“Hey,” he says softly. 
You don’t look at him, letting out a quiet sigh.
“Baby,” Hugh says again. “Look at me.”
You clear your throat and turn your attention to him. There are tears stinging your eyes and you aren’t even sure why you’re getting so emotional, but there is a bit of fear knowing that this may be the last weekend you would spend with him. 
“Talk to me. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s goin’ on in your mind.” 
“You’re going to be busier,” you point out, biting the inside of your cheek. “And I don’t want to hold you back. I know we literally just met two weeks ago, but I’m okay with ending things the way they are now. It’s been more than amazing to spend all this time with you and–”
“Ending this?” Hugh interrupts, confusion written all over his face as his brows furrow together. “Do you not want this?” 
“No, I do!” you sigh, looking down at your hands that are currently holding onto his. “I just– I don’t want you to have to worry about me while you’re away shooting and you’re going to just be so busy. I know what you do for a living and it’s to be expected, but I just feel like you’d worry while you’re away and I don’t–” you let out a shaky breath and shake your head. “Am I even making sense?” 
Hugh sighs. “You are making sense,” he reassures, bringing your hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss on the back of it. “But I guess I just don’t understand. You won’t be holding me back.”
“Hugh,” you close your eyes for a moment and release his hands to wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I like you a lot and it scares me,” you admit. “It scares me because I don’t know how I fit into all of this. Into your life.”
“Really?” Hugh asks. “Because I can see it so clearly.” 
“What?”
“I can see how you fit into my life so clearly,” Hugh repeats. “And you’re not tied to a job here. You travel for work too and I may or may have not talked about you to Ryan and Shawn…” he admits quietly. “Anyway, I know it’s scary because this scares me too, but I can’t…” he shakes his head, looking up at you as his hands move to rest on your hips. “I can’t even fathom letting you go and I don’t want to either.”
“I’ve given my all before in a relationship and in the end, it only hurt me…” you reply with a shaky voice. 
“I know,” he sighs, eyes softening as he slowly stands up. Your hands drop from his shoulders to his waist as Hugh’s hands cup the base of your neck, keeping his eyes solely focused on yours. “And I can’t promise that everything will always be okay, but I can promise you that I’d always put you first. No matter what. Whatever this is between us,” Hugh continues, his thumbs brushing against the corners of your eyes as he feels a couple of tears trickle. “I want to believe that it’ll work out.” 
“We’ve only known each other for two weeks,” you whisper. “I’m way in over my head. You must think I’m crazy.” 
“Like I said… You have a lot of love to give,” Hugh whispers, gently pecking your lips. “And I’d be a lucky man to be on the receiving end of your love one day.” 
You bite your lower lip and wrap your arms around him tighter, moving to rest your forehead against the crook of his neck as his hands drop from the base of your neck to rest on your lower back. Hugh can feel the weight lift itself off your shoulders as you relax into him. He peppers kisses along your cheek and tightens his hold on you. 
“Feeling better?” Hugh whispers into your ear.
You nod against him. “Yeah, thank you, Hugh.”
“All I ask is that you talk to me, baby, okay?” He asks, pulling back to look down at you. “Whatever is bothering you, I don’t want you to hold it in. I’m here to listen.” 
“God, you really are perfect, aren’t you?” you laugh quietly, pecking his lips. 
Hugh smiles to himself. He realizes that he hates seeing you upset and when he hears your laugh and sees the smile on your face, he feels proud, accomplished. “I’m not perfect.” 
“I’d say otherwise,” you smile, looking deeply into his eyes. “I’m not used to talking about what’s bothering me or my feelings, but I’m learning.”
“This will always be a safe space, okay?” Hugh tells you. “You’re safe with me.”
You hug him tightly, burying your face into him as you let out a sigh of relief. You feel his arms tighten around you and it brings you so much comfort. Being here with him, in his arms, brings you comfort. You feel him fall back onto his mattress, taking you with him as you curl against his side, arm draped over his abdomen as his arm hooks around your shoulders. 
“So, you told Ryan and Shawn about me?” you ask, looking up at him. “As in the Ryan Reynolds and the Shawn Levy?” 
Hugh laughs. “Do you describe all people like that?”
“Only celebrities,” you correct. 
Hugh looks down at you and shakes his head, a smile lining his lips. “I did, is that okay? I know we never talked about who can know and who can’t…”
“It’s okay, Hugh,” you reassure him, kissing his chest. 
“I’d tell the whole world, if I could,” he says honestly. “But whenever you’re ready, baby.” 
You nod, shutting your eyes as you rest against him. “Thank you,” you whisper. “For not pressuring me. For going at my pace. I know it must not be easy, but you have no idea how much it means to me.” 
Hugh hooks a finger under your chin, eyes scanning your features as he bites his lower lip. Your eyes remain closed as he brushes his thumb lightly along your jawline. “I’d wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”
“Yeah,” you smile, turning your head to kiss the pad of his thumb. “You’re perfect.”
Hugh laughs to himself and then holds you tighter into his side. “So, I also told Ryan and Shawn you were a photographer and they may want to meet you to discuss a few things.”
“About my work or about us?” you open your eyes at that, looking up at him.
“About your work.”
“But I’m an engagement photographer, and last I checked, they’re both already married.” 
Hugh smiles. “Well, I also showed them your other work…”
“Oh, but those weren’t really serious… They were just for fun. Landscapes, street photography.” 
“They were just as good, baby.” He tells you. “And it’s possible,” he grins. “Or rather, they will be asking if you’d be interested in being our on-set photographer, taking pictures behind the scenes.”
Your eyes widen slightly, looking into his eyes. “That would mean I’d be there with you.”
Hugh nods slowly, the grin remaining on his lips. “Exactly, you’d be there with me on set of Deadpool & Wolverine. You sure you won’t get tired of me?” Hugh asks.
You shake your head and move to straddle his waist, resting your forearms down on either side of his head on the bed as you feel his hands move to your hips. 
“Isn’t that a question that I ask?” you tease, nose brushing against his. 
“It’s a valid question.” 
“No, I won’t get tired of you, Hugh. How can I?” you whisper, brushing your lips across his own lightly. “I mean, I think you’ve ruined other men for me.” 
Hugh growls and wraps an arm around your waist, rolling you over onto your back as he settles himself between your legs. “Good,” he says huskily, rolling his hips against yours. “Because you’re mine now.”
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taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1 - @wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf - @needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom
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pastanest · 1 year ago
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Spencer Reid x she/her!reader
A/N: I am currently obsessed w the premise of a reader who is just totally smitten by the super shy and introverted Reid from early seasons bc he deserved SO MUCH MORE APPRECIATION it upsets me at least thrice a day!
gif creds: @themoontaxi
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Heaven Sent
“There’s an old Buddhist saying that, when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making.” Spencer tells you with a thoughtful expression as you perch on his desk, smiling down at him in his office chair, your heart lifting in your chest as he continues. “So always appreciate and be kind to each other - there’s a corollary for friends!” And just like that, your heart falls back into place, but your smile doesn’t falter, there’s no way that it can when you’re still looking at him. “When you meet a true friend, you will be bound together through space and time for 500 years.” Spencer ends his tidbit of trivia with a smile that very nearly sends you flying from his desk and into orbit.
As per usual, you try to keep your cool, offering him a beaming smile. “Bound together through space and time for 500 years, eh? For a Buddhist quote, that does sound a bit Doctor-Who.” You tease lightly, and when Spencer’s eyes crinkle with a laugh that you have brought him, you feel all 500 years spent drifting through space to find him, smack you right in the chest.
“It does, actually, you make a great point!” Your favorite genius chuckles up at you, a look in his eyes that has you reaching the same conclusion to the age-old philosophical question of whether heaven is real, because every time Spencer Reid looks you in the eye, you know you could argue to the ends of the earth with any philosopher that tries to tell you it isn’t. 
“Alright, Doc, I’m gonna go take a scheduled pee break but I expect another fascinating fact from you on my return!” You order playfully as you hop off of his desk, never any malice or sarcasm in your voice when you regard his seemingly endless knowledge. Spencer feels the sincere love you have for his facts, something few people have shown him. 
“I’ll try my best, but I can’t promise anything!” Spencer calls after you as you stroll towards the bathroom, your phone already in your hands, frantically typing a few texts to your best friend.
You: good god
You: I want him
You: so bad
Spencer’s retort catches you off guard, your thumbs slipping on your phone as you turn to look back at him, walking backwards and continuing to type without looking. 
“Spencer Reid, if there is ever anything that you can promise me, it’s a new fact with a few minutes prep, don’t lie to me!” You joke right back to him, the two of you sharing a laugh across the office as you reach the bathroom and disappear behind the door.
As you lean against the bathroom door, you release the breath you were holding in your lovesick chest and smile so hard your face hurts. In the midst of your recovery from such a wholesome interaction with your favorite person, you hit send on the text you’d typed, your eyes closed as you relive Spencer’s smile again and again.
You: it physically hurts
Then, your phone makes a peculiar sound that causes your heart to sing. Spencer’s text tone, specially selected so that you never get your hopes up at anyone else’s text tone coming through. As if your thoughts summoned him, Spencer has texted you, despite the fact you were speaking to him mere seconds ago. However, as you glance down at your phone to see his message, your blood runs cold. Much to your absolute horror, you have somehow managed to send that last message you typed and sent without looking, not to your best friend like the previous messages, but directly to the subject of the conversation.
Spencer: What physically hurts? Are you okay? Do you need help? 
The panic response in your body is so real it’s scary, every fiber of your being screaming in utter hysteria as you run your hand through your hair with eyes like a deer in headlights. This is the worst possible mistake to have made, but, maybe you can white-lie your way out of this, since that message didn’t mention Spencer by name. Frantically, you type out your response back to him.
You: Spencer I am so sorry omg Im fine that message was not meant for you 
Nodding to yourself, you take some deep breaths. Spencer is never one to invade a person’s privacy outside of it being professionally required to do so and by revealing so little in your reply, you are communicating that the matter is private and was unintentionally, partially revealed to him. 
Spencer: Oh, okay. Still, if you are in any kind of pain, please let me know; if there is anything I can do to help/anything I can get you, I will.
And, of course, Doctor Spencer Reid manages to make you smile like an idiot with such a simple, sweet text.
You: thanks, Spence, that’s really kind of you. Im ok tho, I promise!! :)
Spencer: Hold on, you went to the bathroom and complained of pain - is it your menstrual cycle? I have towels and tampons in my desk.
Your eyes widen at his boldness, but also sweetness, to ask such a thing. How cute, he thinks you’re embarrassed to admit to him that you are on your period and not at all completely humiliated by your massive crush on him, almost being exposed in its entirety because you were, ironically, distracted by him.
You: nono, trust me, Im ok!! 
Frowning in sudden confusion, you are quick to type out another text before Spencer responds to your first one.
You: why do you have those?
Spencer: I am a doctor, I work with people who menstruate and should not have to pay for such things if I have some that I can provide for free. 
And he has you smiling like a lovesick idiot. Again. 
You: wow, that’s really sweet Spence :’)
Spencer: Is It? Thank you! B)
Another confused frown furrows your brow as you stare at your phone screen quizzically.
You: what’s “B)”
Spencer: Sunglasses face. A cool guy. B) 
God bless this man and his total inability to use actual emojis, you are having to stifle your laughter with a hand over your mouth because otherwise you are certain the entire office would hear you.
You: omg of course it is! so cute!!
Spencer: B)
The second you see it on your screen again, you are trying to contain your laughter a second time. His ability to be completely and utterly adorable is unmatched.
Spencer: You have been in the bathroom for some time and have not yet clarified the reason for texting someone that you were in physical pain. Are you absolutely certain that you are alright? 
Panic begins to set in again as you consider your options, none of which including confessing the truth from within the bathroom stall you are hiding in.
You: look, I cant tell you the reason I texted that but I promise you I am absolutely fine!! 
The moment the ‘read’ symbol appears by your last text, there’s a knock at the bathroom door.
“Hey sweetpea, boy-wonder told me you were in some kind of pain, is everything alright in there? Do you need a tamp? A hot water bottle? Some soup? A-” While your dear friend, Penelope Garcia, continues to list things that you could possibly need, through the bathroom door, you are frantically typing to Spencer again.
You: did you send Pen over here
He responds diligently, of course.
Spencer: I am sorry if I have breached your privacy at all, I thought you might feel more comfortable talking to Penelope about whatever is going on, but I hope you know you can always talk to me about anything.
Sighing and closing your eyes in a pained blink, you call out. “I’m fine, Pen, seriously!”
But, ever the carer of the team, Penelope will not let that slide. “Well, I’m not leaving until you come out here and prove it to me.”
Now, you are physically and emotionally cornered. There is absolutely no way that Penelope will let you out of here without an explanation, and there is absolutely no way that you can lie to her, either. Alright, time to bite the bullet.
“Pen…if I come out, you must promise to take me straight to your office and I’ll tell you everything, but you cannot tell a soul, okay?” You ask her through the door, and you can practically hear the gossip-loving cogs in her brain turning on the other side.
“You got it, sweetness! C’mon out!” Penelope calls, and you take a deep breath, shoving your phone in your back pocket before unlocking the door and stepping back into the office.
Immediately, Penelope swings an arm around you and leads you to her office with haste. All the while, you can feel a certain pair of very attractive, swoon-inducing eyes on you, worrying after you.
The second you are alone together in her office, Penelope sits you down and pulls her chair up to sit opposite you, taking ahold of your hands.
“Spill it!”
You sigh, avoiding her eyes. “This is about to be the most humiliating confession of my life.”
Penelope’s eyes widen, her pupils practically dilating at the raised stakes of what this gossip could entail. “No, no, come on, this is a safe space!”
You nod. “I know, I know, but…admitting aloud to any member of the team is something I hoped I’d avoid forever.” You chuckle in disbelief. “Basically, I was texting my friend some very private things and then got distracted by Spencer and accidentally sent him one of the texts- it’s probably just easier if I show you.” You decide, retrieving your phone and showing her the texts you had originally been sending to your best friend, then the one you accidentally sent to Spencer. 
Penelope’s jaw drops. “Oh my goodness! Who are you talking about in those texts?!”
You roll your eyes playfully. “Go on, Pen, take a guess. Who is the one person I wouldn’t want to find out about my crush, except for the crush himself.”
And Penelope Garcia’s jaw has hit the floor, she is in a state of shock. So severely, in fact, you have to wave a hand in front of her face.
“Earth to Penelope?” You ask, amused. 
She blinks rapidly at you, her spirit seemingly returning to her as she starts to squeal. “Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh! I knew it, I absolutely knew it!”
Then, your phone dings, a text tone that sends goosebumps rippling up your arm. 
Spencer: Is everything okay? I am sorry if I upset you by telling Penelope, I was just concerned for you. Can I talk to you before we leave for the day, please?
Without hesitation, you show the text to Penelope, seeking her moral support in your time of need. “Now that you know what’s going on, please help me, what the hell am I supposed to do?!”
The technical analyst spins in her chair, typing away on her keyboard before bringing up a direct feed of one of the security cameras inside the main office. The two of you can see Spencer, sitting at his desk with his bag and coat on, ready to leave for the day, but glancing between his phone and the text he’s sent you that’s now showing as ‘read’ and Penelope’s office door, with a worried expression.
“Honestly, sweetpea, I don’t think you’ve got a choice but to tell him. The two of you are so close, he’ll see right through any white-lie you tell him and worry even more that he’s done something to upset you. The most painless way out of this is to just tell him the truth.” Penelope says, wincing at her own words as she looks at you because she knows how much it would hurt to have someone tell her that, if she were in your situation. 
Looking back up at Spencer on the monitor, seeing his worried expression, your heart aches at the thought of making him overthink about something he’s said or done, never wanting to cause him that kind of distress.
Sighing in defeat, you nod. “You’re right, Pen.”
Fixing your gaze back on your phone screen, you start to type, not missing the way Spencer’s eyes light up on the monitor at the notification of you typing back to him.
You: sorry Spence, I didn't mean to worry you, I'm all good! now coming :)
As silly as it is, the smiley face you send him brings a small smile to Spencer’s actual face, and that gives you the only confidence you need to rise from your seat. 
“Good luck, sweetness!” Penelope squeals, pulling you into a hug before practically shoving you out of her office.
Stepping into Spencer’s line of sight, he immediately starts walking over to you.
“Hey, I’m so sorry that I told Garcia, I know I shouldn’t have-” He begins to ramble, but your smile stops him in his tracks.
“You don’t need to apologize, Spencer, I promise, everything is fine. Are you ready to head out?” You ask him as he follows you over to your own desk, so that you can collect your own jacket and bag. 
“Y-Yeah.” He replies nervously, very obviously still worrying because you haven’t told him the whole truth yet, rendering him unable to settle.
The two of you walk to the elevator in silence, but as the doors close, isolating the two of you, you take a deep breath.
“You’re going to think my explanation is ridiculous, just to pre-warn you.”
Spencer frowns seriously, turning to face you, giving you his full attention. “Nothing you say is ever ridiculous, not to me. What’s going on?” His voice is so soft that it has you weak at the knees, which does not make this any easier. 
“I was texting a friend of mine and then carried on typing when I looked back to answer you, meaning I accidentally sent the next text to you.” The explanation is simple, in essence, but Spencer is nodding along like you are reciting some holy scripture. Biting the bullet completely this time, you pass Spencer your phone with shaking hands, allowing him to read the texts you sent your friend.
“But…you sent these after talking with me? While still talking with me?” He asks quizzically, for a moment blinded by his own obliviousness and a sadness settles in his heart because he truly believes you were thinking of some other guy when just speaking to him, but as the more logical conclusion presents itself to him, Spencer’s eyes widen.
You are unable to look at him, your gaze fixed on the closed elevator doors in front of you as you gently take your phone and conceal it back in your pocket. “Yep.” Is, somehow, the only word you can muster. 
Spencer parts his lips to speak, but the elevator doors open, and you all but make a break for it.
“Sorry. See you tomorrow, Spencer.” You blurt out hurriedly as you speed walk out of the building and into the parking lot, feeling physically sick as tears blur your vision, knowing you have single handedly ruined whatever wonderful friendship Spencer appreciates you for sharing with him, knowing your fate of a tear soaked pillow awaits you the second you arrive home. 
“(Y/N), wait, please!” Spencer calls out after you, his voice alone strong enough to stop you on your march. 
Turning to face him, Spencer’s heart breaks at the sight of the tears escaping your eyes. “Spencer, I am so, so sorry. I know you don’t like physical contact, I know you have never so much as glanced at me in the only way I’ve ever been able to look at you, and I want you to know I tried absolutely everything to stop myself falling for you because I didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation like this, but every new thing I learn about you just makes me love you more than I thought possible and every time you smile at me you remind me what the definition of beautiful is, as though I’d ever forget when you exist to be just that in every conceivable way, and I’m so sorry or making you worry and care for me and that now you’ve got no choice but to process all of this and with your eidetic memory you’re not going to be able to forget it which makes things even more awkward for you and-”
Spencer interrupts your breathless, tearful ramble by pulling you into his arms, tucking your head into his chest.
“Breathe, (Y/N), please.” He asks, so softly, with such care and compassion you can only cry into his coat. 
For a few minutes, that is how you stay, crying in his arms as he holds you there, gently shushing you, one hand rubbing your back and the other holding your head to his chest, his fingertips caressing your hair in a way that makes it very difficult for you to focus on anything else. But, when Spencer hears your tears settle into sniffles, your breaths returning to normal, he parts his lips to speak.
“500 years through time and space.” He says, a small smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
Unfortunately, in your heartbroken state, you don’t quite catch on. “Yeah, friends have always got to be kind and appreciate each other, I remember.” You nod, pulling away from Spencer to wipe your eyes. 
As your vision clears, you see the smile on his face, and Spencer shakes his head at you. “The saying is specifically tailored to soulmates, I only added the friendship clarification because I didn’t want to be too forward.” He holds your gaze, reading your eyes as you return to the wavelength you’ve always shared. “Actually, the next fact I was going to tell you when you came out of the bathroom, the new fact you asked for on your return, was going to be that a study conducted by the University of California found that when someone is in love, their heartbeat synchronizes itself with that of the person they are in love with. And I was, then, going to ask to check your heart-rate, because I am a Doctor, after all.” He chuckles bashfully, pulling the stethoscope from his bag and shyly hiding it in there again once you acknowledge it.
There’s no way you can keep your cool at this point, the bright smile on your face is impossible to conceal. “How long have you had that stethoscope in there in preparation for telling me that fact?”
Spencer does not hesitate with his answer. “4 months, 18 days and 6 hours.”
You nod slowly. “So, you’ve been sure for a while, then?”
Spencer nods back at you, his own smile widening. “For 4 months, 18 days, 6 hours and 3 minutes, to be exact.”
You can’t help giggling at that. “500 years, 4 months, 18 days, 6 hours, and 3 minutes later, here we are. Sorry, I took the long way round.” You joke, taking a nervous step towards him, and Spencer meets you halfway. 
“I think we both did.” His words are quiet, his breath on your lips as he leans down to you, smile to smile and heart to heart for the first time in your lives. 
It’s you that rises to your tiptoes to close the final gap between you, your lips meeting his and immediately sighing against them, truly feeling that you have waited each and every one of those 500 years for this kiss alone. Spencer’s large hands cup your face so gently, and your hands hold his there, stars and butterflies whirling around you in a bliss shared between two souls that took their sweet time in coming back to each other. 
As a thought enters your mind, you break away from the kiss to laugh lightly.
“What is it?” Spencer asks quietly, but he’s already laughing with you.
“Two hearts, beating together?” You say, giggling to yourself as the realization flashes in Spencer’s eyes, too, so much so that he finishes the thought for you.
“You’re absolutely right, that is a bit Doctor-Who!”
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kymerawrites · 6 months ago
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"You're such a bloody drama queen," Simon grumbled under his breath, smoking a cigarette as he watched her pace back and forth. He didn't move an inch from his spot on the couch, arms crossed over his chest. It was always like this with her; they argue, they make up, they argue again. It was a vicious cycle they couldn't seem to break free from. He took a drag of his cigarette before blowing out a stream of smoke, eyes still locked on her
"Can't you just sit still for a bloody second?" Simon snapped, his irritation getting the better of him. "You're giving me a damn headache with all that walking around." He tapped his fingers impatiently on the armrest, his gaze following her every movement. He couldn't help but feel frustrated by her constant need for motion, like a caged animal.
"I could if you'd stop being such a controlling arsehole," she shot back, stopping in her tracks to glare at him. "Sorry if my pacing bothers you, but I have the right to move around in my own home." She crossed her arms, her defiant stance mirroring his.
"Your home?" Simon echoed, a mocking edge to his voice. He snorted, extinguishing his cigarette in the ash tray. "Last I checked, we share this apartment. And believe me, I didn't ask for a fidgety partner who can't sit still for two seconds."
“God for fuck sakes Simon, you make me pace this way. Can’t you see that?!” I said irritated
He rolled his eyes, clearly unperturbed by her retort. "Oh, and it's all my fault that you're pacing around like a maniac?" He leaned back on the couch, his gaze sharpening. "Maybe, just maybe, you should try taking some responsibility for your own actions instead of blaming everything on me. Ever thought of that?"
I huffed in annoyance, not backing down from his gaze. "And maybe you should stop making me so bloody irritated that I can't stand still! You're always bossing me around, like I'm some sort of property and not a person with my own thoughts and feelings."
He stood up abruptly, his tall frame towering over her. "You know damn well that's not true," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't treat you like a bloody object. I care about you, even if you can't see it. And if I come off as controlling sometimes, it's because I want to bloody protect you."
“Oh no, it’s you and your fucking lieutenant, commander whatever the fuck you are act in my space.” I scoffed
His eyes narrowed at her sarcastic remark. "Watch your bloody tongue," he warned, his tone more menacing than before. "You know damn well what I do for a living, and I don't appreciate your tone. But while we're on the subject, you could learn a thing or two about respecting your partner. Maybe if you weren't such a bloody pain in the arse all the time, I wouldn't have to step in and take charge."
That comment hit me, just a little to make me shift from mad to confused “so, if I’m such a pain to you, such a..liability why not leave me?”
He gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. "Because goddamn it, I care about you," he snapped. "Despite all your attitude and stubbornness, I can't just walk away. Believe me, I've bloody tried. But deep down, I know I can't let you go. Even if you drive me mad with all your whining and dramatics."
I turned around not to face him “you can also just say you love me.”
He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath. He walked closer to her, his movements slow and deliberate. "I do love you, alright? But love doesn't make this any easier. It complicates everything. Because even though I love you, you still piss me off like no one else can, and it drives me bloody insane."
He grabbed my waist and hugged me from behind I just smirked “and yet I think you love all the sass and drama I give you don’t you?”
He let out a scoff, his fingers digging into her waist. "Bloody hell, you know me too well," he muttered. "Yes, there's something infuriatingly addicting about your damn attitude and all the drama you bring into my life." He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent.
He chuckled softly against her skin, his breath warm and tickling. "Bloody hell, you drive me wild with it. Part of me wants to strangle you, and the other part..." He trailed off, his hand roaming higher up her body, tracing her curves.
“Finish that sentence si..” I whispered
He nipped at her earlobe, his voice low and gravelly. "And the other part wants to do things that I can't even say in public." He spun her around to face him, his gaze dark and intense. "You have no idea the effect you have on me, how you make me feel. It's maddening, it's intoxicating and it's all your damn fault."
He pushed her against the wall, his body pressing against hers. His hands gripped her wrists, pinning them above her head. "You know what else is maddening?" he growled, his face mere inches away from hers. "How bloody irresistible you are when you're all defiant and stubborn like this. It's like you're begging for me to put you in your place."
He dipped his head, his lips brushing against her neck, leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses. "And the worse part is, you know damn well you have me wrapped around your little finger. Even when you're infuriating me, I can't get you out of my head." He nipped at her skin, his teeth grazing her sensitive spots.
He dipped his head, his lips brushing against her neck, leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses. "And the worse part is, you know damn well you have me wrapped around your little finger. Even when you're infuriating me, I can't get you out of my head." He nipped at her skin, his teeth grazing her sensitive spots.
He shifted his body, pressing his thigh between her legs. "You push my buttons on purpose, just so you can get a reaction out of me. And bloody hell, you always get the reaction you want." He pinned her even tighter against the wall, trapping her in his embrace.
His lips found hers in a hard, possessive kiss. He dominated the kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, claiming her in a way that was both rough and passionate. He pushed his body flush against hers, his hands roaming down to grip her thighs, lifting her up against the wall.
“You’re too good for me si..” I laughed as he lifted my legs on the wall forcing me to embrace them around his waist
He grunted with the effort, his muscles straining as he pressed her against the wall. "Bloody hell, you're a menace," he growled, his lips finding her neck again, sucking and nibbling on her sensitive skin. "Bloody menace with your damn legs wrapped around me like this. Drives me wild to have you like this, all vulnerable and pliable in my arms."
He ground his hips into hers, his arousal evident against her core. "And you're damn wrong about that. I'm not too good for you. I'm just bloody addicted to the way you make me feel, like you're a poison I can't get enough of."
I rolled my eyes “just kiss me already lovebird.” I smiled
He chuckled at her cheeky remark, his eyes dark and intense. "Bloody smartass," he murmured, before capturing her lips in another fierce kiss. He devoured her, his tongue delving into her mouth and dominating the kiss. The kiss was rough and passionate, full of pent-up desire and frustration.
And ofcourse they kissed and made up just for the cycle to continue
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maybefae · 29 days ago
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Messages From Your Guides
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Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3
Remember, this is a general reading and it may not resonate for everyone or completely. Tarot is a tool to help guide but you are responsible for your actions and life, you choose your path.
Tips!
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Pile 1
Tarot Cards: Queen of Wands (Justice and Nine of Wands), The Sun (Four of Wands), Six of Pentacles (Six of Swords), Seven of Cups (Two of Cups)
Bottom of the Deck: Two of Swords, Strength, The High Priestess, Ace of Swords
This guide can be a more motherly figure or a very ancient deity that appears more feminine. It almost has a “Crone” energy.
It’s okay to be happy after you have had to put walls up against a certain person, people, or your family. It’s okay that you are happier after establishing boundaries, my love. Compared to what they have done to you, no matter how minimal it could seem, your act of standing your ground and standing up for yourself is justified. It’s okay to be happy. The scales of justice have tipped in your favor. You’ve always questioned why you had to suffer, that the ones who have wronged you seem to always be able to get away with things. But now that you get to be happy once, you feel guilty when you should feel like the weight is lifted off your chest. The shackles they had put on you, the thoughts they put in your head to make you stay small, are a far greater harm than you standing up for yourself.
It’s okay to walk away. You may regret staying as long as you did, taking care of people wishing to receive it back but never getting it in return. But don’t. Your heart and your love is a great power. It is something that makes you strong. You loved yourself enough to finally walk away. And there will be another that shares the love you have, all you had to do is walk away from the people who didn’t. 
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Pile 2
Tarot Cards: King of Pentacles, Seven of Pentacles, Ace of Cups, Five of Pentacles, Three of Swords, Ten of Wands, Six of Cups, Eight of Wands 
Bottom of the Deck: The Hanged Man 
This is a very masculine feeling guide. “Great Oak” energy, strong and warm. This could honestly resonate with people who picked pile 2 from my recent week ahead reading. This is a very father-like energy, built like a brick house and someone who does everything with love. A full heart and very, very protective. You could have seen him as a kid? Maybe in a dream or you actually saw his spirit. He could come around as a certain animal you see whenever you are going through something, or it’s like you are the only one that sees this animal and no one else sees them around. He gives off the energy of a bear, coyote, fox, tortoise. Orange daylilies. 
This guide isn’t really one for words but for actions, so I will do my best to describe what he’s showing and making me feel. He didn’t like that he had to keep his hands out of a situation that left you defeated and heartbroken, because his instinct is to keep you behind him and deal with your problems so you can keep living your life with as much peace and happiness as possible. However, he is showing me that he was told not to intervene. 
But just know, he walks beside you on your new journey. He is very adamant on making me tell you that he’s extremely proud and you’re doing a great job. He just nodded and gave a few claps. Don’t let the fire in your heart die and keep your “childlike wonder.” “Everything you thought as a child is true…you are just looking in the wrong places/looking too hard.” The journey ahead is great and filled with merriment despite the lack of coins in your pocket. There will be another great shift that will happen in your favor but keep on trucking. All that work will pay off and you have friends to enjoy the journey with. 
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Pile 3
Tarot Cards: Seven of Wands, Ten of Pentacles, The Spirit Plane, Ace of Pentacles, King of Pentacles
Before I pull any cards, you have a guide or guides that come off as very ambiguous. They come off as very angelic or air/light fae, sylphs. I just see light creatures/beings and hear giggling. They are very lovely and they can be tricksters, but don’t cause much harm. They are light-hearted and like to keep the energy of fun around. Now I see them dancing with each other. I also see an expanse of field.
Another note: Since you probably believe in them if you picked this pile, I have a gnome friend who also wants to say something. 
I just have the top row of cards out and they all want to talk. They already have a flurry of messages. They want to say that, yes, you did see/hear from them and you aren’t crazy despite what others have said. They see you as one of them and as a good friend. You probably don’t feel human most days and become very confused/distressed from the way life is in this realm. You operate more in their realm of living. They are also telling you that you are far more rich because of that. 
They just wanna tell you that you aren’t crazy, they keep repeating that. Your view of the world is most likely correct. Nothing makes sense, what you believe should be makes sense though. And there is also a warning here that all beings of this category aren’t happy. In fact, they are actually really angry. “Something’s coming.” They won’t expand on that but they want you to know. You will be protected from your guides! And it will seemingly feel like everyone around you is effected but you. And throughout your life, you may have felt very lucky because things may have felt like were dropped in your lap or life has been pretty easy and it’s because of them. They don’t know if they want thanks or not, but they will take your gratitude in the form of gifts/offerings!
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Decks Used: Ophida Rosa Tarot by Leila and Olive, The Dungeons and Dragons Tarot Deck by Adam Lee and Fred Gissubel, Cosma Visions Oracle by James R. Eads
Dividers: @inklore
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daydr3amy · 4 months ago
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Lyfting tips as someone who went from a godawful lyfter to someone who is careful, cautious & obviously never gets caught
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DISCLAIMER!! I do not actually sh0pl1ft- this is a role play account. I pretend to sh0pl1ft online because I would never do so in real life!! NOTHING I SAY REGARDING TIPS/SH0PL1FTING ARE TRUE AND ARE ALL MADE UP
Now obviously this conversation circulates
lyfting Tumblr a shit tonne but I want to
share my own experiences as to help baby
lifters & maybe give new insight to
experienced lyfters
I want to begin by sharing a story that keeps me up at night because it’s THAT embarrassing. I had a thought a year or so ago back that I wanted to begin lyfting all because I saw a girl on twitter who was a lyfting god (I now know that she was actually awful at lifting I’ll expand on this more later). I had went to a coffee shop and a gas station (on one side was the coffee shop and the other was the gas station they’re in the same building and there’s no doorway in between the two) after me and my brother had finished our coffee he decided he wanted to get something at the gas station. Whilst he was checking out with the only cashier on duty I was eyeing the protein bars thinking “now is my chance!! I HAVE to do this.. it’s now or never” by the time I had it set in my mind I was going to Lyft this protein bar- my brother was already done checking out and was waiting for me at the door. The cashier was not distracted by any other customers as it was only me and my brother in the store at the time. I knelt down by the protein bars and my brother asked “what are you doing?” And I replied in an overly loud voice “just looking at protein bars!!” I then decided on one and tried to tuck it in my sleeve with one hand. That didn’t work and it didn’t quite fit in my sleeve because I was so nervous- feeling rushed- and overall super shaky. Mind you my brother is standing about 5 feet away at the door looking at me crouching spending WAY too much time ‘looking at the protein bars’. Finally I managed to get the fucking protein bar up my sleeve and I loudly said “okay I’m ready to go!!”. After my brother and I had left the store he said “why did you steal that?” And then to my horror he says “you know the cashier was walking over to you and was practically almost looking right down at you. I cringed so hard at the thought of that actually playing out.
Now a lot of you may be thinking “oh she’s fucking dumb” and well… yes. But just as a little challenge I want you all to read through that story again and identify every red flag, everything I did wrong, & everything I failed to do that could’ve caused me to get caught in the act (there are 9!)
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Ready?
1) I went into a store where two sets of employees from two separate corporations could see me borrowing
2) I got coffee from the shop- meaning they have my card details. If they were interested in prosecuting- they now have all my information
3) it was NOT a planned lift. The only ‘planning’ was done once i was in the store. This means I did not have a backup plan- I did not know how employees treat potential borrowing- and I did not wear an appropriate shirt to conceal
4) I did not scope out the store for cameras at all. In fact once I went to that store again I realized there was a big dome camera that was RIGHT above me 😭 the cashier more than likely had the camera footage displayed on her computer
5) I brought someone who was both A) unknowing (well kind of.. I was so fucking obvious even he knew what was going on) and B) someone who is completely inexperienced in lyfting. As soon as he had asked what I was doing I should have left it alone and exited the store with him
6) my responses to my brother. Any regular shopper would not need to shout/talk loudly explaining themselves “Oh!! I’m just looking at [insert weirdly specific item] definitely not doing anything awful or criminal like lyfting!!” Rather they would take an extremely casual approach speaking at a normal level “I’m just looking to see if they have what I wanted up here but I don’t think they do” [cue exit]. Being hyperspecific and sounding nervous will get you caught. No normal person talks like that- I recommend observing normal shoppers if you go out planning to lyft and attempting to copy their casual behaviours.
7) the amount of time I spent looking??? Like nobody is going to be looking at fucking protein bars like they are trying to find the Willy Wonka golden ticket 😭 if you are lyfting you have to be quick and precise - at any second you could be caught
8) I was completely unaware of my surroundings. I had no idea where the cashier was until I actually left the store. I’m not saying look around you frantically at all times Tryint to make sure you’re alone- that’ll get you sussed especially if people are watching cams. Take notice of where everyone is- especially employees and conceal quickly
9) nervous demeanour. I was so shaky and anxiety ridden it looked like I was about to go skydiving. Typically customers who come to shop at stores don’t get a panic attack from looking at store products- I’m actually laughing to myself at how ridiculous I must have looked LOL. Appear calm and collected and nobody will suspect anything.
Did you catch every red flag? If not- and I mean this in such a kind way- reevaluate your lyfting techniques. Lyfting is a crime and no matter how old you are if the court decides to trial you as an adult you’re fucked.
Briefly I want to circle back to the beginning of my twitter friend who both encouraged me to lift- & lifted MASSIVE hauls. Here’s a tip for everyone here that may be semi unpopular- there is nothing more stupid than a sh0pl1fter who Lyfts more than 999 dollars in one shopping trip. I don’t care about your states felony limit at all. Let me bring a new train of thought to everyone’s minds sh0pl1fting is 50% luck 50% skill you could be the most talented lyfter in the world but guess what? There’s definitely someone who’s better at their job than you are at lyfting at all times. If you find a blind spot- what if there’s a hidden camera? If you body conceal- what if police get involved and you get extra charges just for that? What if an employee catches you? What if there’s plainclothes LP? What if there’s LP in general? What if AI software technology recognizes your face as a lyfter from shared company data- leading you to immediately be sussed? What if there was a hidden tag in something you just lyfted? What if there are cops outside the store and an employee decides to alert them? What if employees/ LP are watching you through a blind spot in the store? What if you’re in the process of having a case built against you? I could keep going, however the sad truth is, no matter how good you are at lyfting- if you continually get away successfully- luck played a huge role in that. That is why it’s important to reduce the amount of times where something could go badly meaning reduce the amount of things you decide to lyft in a store. Is a criminal record really worth that viral Tumblr/twitter post? Probably not. I HUGELY recommend visiting multiple stores as opposed to lyfting all in one store
Okay enough yapping from me hehe let’s get into some more general tips :)
- do not go in groups of teens you will immediately be sussed esp if ur around 14-16 years old
- do not wear backpacks like at all! i see many encouraging backpacks at b&n and 1ndig0 and as someone who worked in both of those places- you will be watched. even if you dont realize it.
- totes are a nono bring a bigger purse if you must
- never assume cameras aren’t monitored. Stores are constantly hiring/ changing policies etc to prevent shrink. Use your eyes to scout for cameras do not look up and avoid being in sight of the cameras as best as possible
- coffee= trustworthy?? idk what this phenomenon is- but if you are carrying coffee from starbs or something (dont shop at starbs free Palestine) especially if the cup is see through you will lit not be sussed (as long as ur acting normally)
- if it’s in a box- either open the box and dump the product in your purse / body conceal or don’t lyft it. You’d be surprised how many stores are deciding to tag insides of boxes
- if you beep at the towers do NOT turn around or wait for the opportunity to be caught keep walking and walk right out of the establishment especially if you’re at the mall!!! Leave immediately
- malls are a lot scarier than people think- trust me AI recognition softwares are horrifying if you lyft at malls there’s a 99% chance you’ve already been caught by them lyft with extreme caution and don’t do big Lyfts
- stay away from Sephora they have some of the most aggressive LP I have ever seen in my entire life and will almost always prosecute
- if you plan on walking out with a tag on the item without a care in the world if you’ll beep or not Lp has these fuckass new hard tags that beep themselves. If you trigger the alarm towers the tag will start ‘screaming’ and will not stop no matter what you do- I advise against walkouts like that
- if you notice employees coming up to you way too often and won’t shut up about promos in store or wtv they are onto you do not risk it dump ur shit n leave
- dress to impress. You guys have no idea how good a pair of lulu leggings or the lulu define jacket can do for you- seriously make that investment
- go alone. Nobody knows how to do it better than yourself and if that’s not the case you shouldn’t be lyfting at all if you’re in a group you’ll be sussed so much easier unless you both look extremely well groomed and dressed
- on every tag that displays the brand for example the cardboard tags that lulu leggings have on them displaying the brand- rip it in half. Otherwise it’ll set off the alarm. Well rounded lyfters always find this out the hard way lol It’s a rite of passage
- majority of the time you literally don’t need magnets. Not only is this a sure way to catch a felony I genuinely think it’s useless. There’s always at least one pair of clothes that are not tagged in a well stocked store Idc if that’s not the exact shirt you want don’t get greedy
- branching off of that- try to only lyft in well stocked stores.
Otherwise employees will quickly realize when something has gone missing
-lyft the clothes hangers I’ll never understand why people will Lyft a shirt and not take the hanger? Unless it’s hard tagged it won’t beep slip it in your purse and save money on hangers lol & employees won’t notice empty hangers
- if you go to a changing room and they count your items you have 2 options- do not Lyft any of them orrrr assess the clothes in the changing room pick out only 1-2 you want to Lyft and ensure there are no magnets and rip the tags in half. Slip the hangers in your purse and as you are exiting say “I’m going to be getting these two I left the other 3 hung up in the changing room” the employee will literally not care. Then you find a blind spot and conceal the items. This is tricky and can only be done if employees are distracted and the store is big enough so that the changing room employee cannot see the cash register.
- the more you engage with employees the longer they have to remember what you look like. Be polite and short do not ask for assistance if they offer you a bag don’t freak out. I work retail and we only hand out bags to build customer basket sizes
- if you are not quick with concealing an item don’t even try and just leave ☠️ you should know this by now from my story earlier
- lp collects data on most high shrink items to dictate if those items should be secretly tagged or not- again I work retail and we began hiding tags inside products where nobody except us would have any idea that they’re there. If you like a specific skincare brand don’t lyft a shit tonne in one go from w4lm4rt everytime you go. Instead lift a minimal amount and then go to a non affiliated shop that sells the same product
- don’t build routine of lyfting
At the same store every Monday (idk lmfao, Monday is just an example) they’ll begin to remember you and it won’t be fun when you go in to lyft and
There’s cops waiting with a free UberX cop edition to your nearest prison
- prioritize lyfting essentials as opposed to ‘desirables’ this should be pretty self explanatory and if ur caught in the act (by cops!! only do not fucking talk to LP do not go with them where they tell you to. Run out Get an Uber if you have to and do not return to that store) you can just say “I’m broke and I’m trying to support myself” yada yada yada
Okay that’s all for nowww I’m sleepy but I’ll be making similar threads soon :3
Btw if you guys liked the red flag thingy please lmk bc it was genuinely sm fun to write and I have so many more horrible stories that I can share.. like a scavenger hunt except it’s my own dumbassery
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resart · 5 months ago
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The Inconspicuous Writing Gem: Daeran’s Look-alike Contest Breakdown
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The Dance of Masks brought the long-anticipated last hurrah to the Knight Commander’s story. Although it was announced that the DLC would focus on the companions, I wasn’t holding my breath for substantial content that would actually enrich the characters’ plots. The game is already massive and has a ton of variables, so expecting the writers to continue storylines that can have multiple outcomes would be unreasonable. But one scene far exceeded my expectations and set the bar high for the rest of the expansion, rendering me more critical about some of its elements than I would normally be. The event in question may not appear as much, but the true artistry in writing stories driven by the player’s choice fully reveals itself in what we don’t see on the surface. Daeran’s look-alike contest varies greatly, depending on how his personal quest was resolved, and, therefore, serves as a semi-epilogue to his arc. I wanted to post an analysis of his character’s progression for quite some time, and this send-off is a fitting opportunity to delve into this matter. I’ll break down the differences in the new scene as well as in a few others and share my overall thoughts on what this addition brings to the table. Brace yourself because it’s going to be long.
I'll start with a quick reminder of what Daeran’s questline outcomes are, because I'm going to reference them a lot:
Good, in which he’s openly grateful to the Knight Commander despite having to face the tribunal, and Liotr, noticing their bond, intervenes so the Inquisition doesn't lock him up;
Lobotomy, in which Daeran reluctantly accepts his predicament of having to face the trial, Liotr doesn't support him and after the crusade, the Count is sent to the asylum and lobotomized;
HappyEvil, in which the Commander kills Liotr to secure Daeran’s freedom;
ArchEvil, in which Daeran doesn't have any trust in the Commander, feels deserted and murders Liotr to avoid the trial.
At first glance, there's nothing profound about Daeran’s festival quest — it fits his image to indulge in the vain act of self-celebration by choosing the most accurate imitation of himself. However, this simple setup proves itself clever when we realize that, by observing the contestants, he sees himself in a distorting mirror. Coincidentally, each participant appears to represent a different facet of the Count’s character. Therefore, his reactions to them speak volumes of the self-image and mindset he developed during the crusade in each scenario.
Among the doubles, we have an aasimar who mimics Daeran's arrogance and cruelty, and constantly interrupts other participants' speeches with mocking remarks.
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A woman who recreates Daeran's sophisticated bon vivant persona.
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A drunkard who paints Daeran as a worthless and utterly unapologetic rake.
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And finally, an innocent boy who keeps staring at Daeran with admiration and portrays him as a virtuous hero of the crusade.
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After the presentation of the contestants is over, Daeran asks the Commander’s opinion. Again, his responses to their verdict vary in each case (unless they choose the cat), but the difference in how he reacts to being compared to the little boy is the most telling.
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No matter what the protagonist suggests, the winner of the contest is fixed for each of the outcomes. If the Commander failed to earn Daeran's trust and he murdered Liotr himself, the conceited aasimar is declared the winner.
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If the Commander killed Liotr, the Count awards the lady.
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If the quest was resolved peacefully (either Good or Lobotomy), Daeran chooses the boy and has a heartwarming exchange with him.
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This variety of possible scenarios and the way they are handled encapsulate why I consider Daeran's story so intricately woven and enjoyable to analyze. He's an incredibly flexible and dynamic character whose potential endings range from becoming a saint to a homicidal maniac. But what makes this duality and everything that comes in between so engaging is that all these vastly contradictory conclusions are equally organic and convincing, given his rich characterization and the player’s choices. The subtle yet significant divergences in the narrative paths maintain the integrity of his personality and prevent his evolution from seeming far-fetched while efficiently showcasing his growth or regression.
Regretfully, this attention to detail is missing from the other new scenes, which don't convey a similar sense of progression and can come off as somewhat disconnected from the rest of the playthrough. The rendezvous, for example, avoids references to how the player concluded Daeran's romance and quest. Given these plotlines' non-linearity, it's an understandable approach, but it prevents the scene from exploring deeper themes and hitting more emotional notes. What's particularly detrimental to the its overall intensity is the absence of exclusive dialogue for the True Love outcome. Ironically, it's the two worst endings that get unique and surprisingly heartfelt lines.
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The difference is insignificant, however, because the conversation always plays out the same. All in all, the segment is nice and leaves a lot to the imagination, but only partially exploits its potential. Meanwhile, the festival mini-quest embraces the aforementioned strengths of the storyline's writing, giving every iteration of Daeran distinct dialogues that clearly demonstrate the impact the crusade and acquaintance with the Commander had on him.
I won't examine every dialogue branch in detail but will mainly focus on the Good scenario. As someone who likes this ending the best and even advocates the controversial writing in the final confrontation with Liotr, I always thought the narrative failed to properly sell its implied benefits. Apart from the closing conversation in the quest itself, late-game provides little reactivity to differentiate the outcomes, making it hard for the players to fully grasp the internal shift that Daeran undergoes. Comparison of said dialogue in various scenarios reveals his perspective in Good route as the least egocentric and overall most mature. Unfortunately, in an individual playthrough, these qualities can get overshadowed by the Count's dissatisfaction with the inconveniences he will eventually have to endure.
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Aside from that, the effects of each resolution manifest only in Daeran's responses to one question in the romantic route and how he expressed his feelings regarding Galfrey’s death.
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Even though they show evident contrast and serve as a much-needed emotional pay-off for the moral dilemma the player faced in the storyline finale, both are relatively minor, with the Queen one completely missable in most playthroughs. When combined with the similar omission of negative repercussions for Daeran’s moral condition and emotional maturity in other outcomes, it's not surprising many players believe he doesn’t ever change or that becoming better fundamentally clashes with his nature.
The discussed competition scene remedies the narrative’s deficiencies, ultimately proving this statement untrue. In the Good outcome, Daeran presents a reasonable dose of self-distance. When confronted with the drunk’s insults, he replies with humor and courtesy, which is a stark contrast to his reactions in the Evil outcomes and his past responses to criticism. Despite being hurt by the harsh judgment, he understands such a low opinion of himself is somewhat justified. The Count's mild response and his sensitivity to the suggestion that he's nothing more than an unfeeling scoundrel may even indicate that he has developed some remorse for his past actions. He also dismisses unwarranted flattery and distances himself from the brash egotism. All without falling into a spiral of gloom and self-deprecation that occurs in the Lobotomy scenario. Introspectiveness and vulnerability showcased here are a seamless continuation of the self-evaluation Daeran does in the High Trust version of his quest upon being supposedly betrayed by the Commander.
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It's all the more unfortunate that the other interactions in the DLC don’t acknowledge these differences and instead return to the common denominator of all endings. As a result, the player will go from Daeran, who self-reflects and claims the aasimar presents an unfunny caricature of him, to Daeran in the tavern, who puffs himself up exactly like the guy (using even the same words) and seeks more sycophantic praise. While it's expected for him to put on an airy act and tease others, the absolute lack of self-awareness he previously exhibits in the Good route is quite jarring. Considering the complexity of the storyline as well as all sorts of limitations, such inconsistencies are inevitable (the base game already has a fair share of them) and in the end, one can easily reconcile them through their own interpretations. However, after being spoiled by a reactivity treat like the festival mini-quest, it's disappointing that the remaining dialogues lack similar nuance.
In the Good scenario, Daeran's behavior reinforces what we learn in the epilogue — that in this version, he has the most difficulty navigating through his newfound freedom and redefining himself in it. Choosing the winner of a silly contest shouldn't be hard for him, and it isn't in the Evil outcomes. There, the self-satisfied Count (who in both cases already has the blood of at least one innocent man on his hands) picks what he perceives as an idealized version of himself — be it the aestheticized depiction of his self-centredness or the unbridled and unyielding haughtiness. Noteworthily, in the Happy variant, Daeran openly flirts with the lady and, in both Evil paths, if not romanced, attempts to seduce his favored contestant. It’s peak narcissism, given the implications of the scene. In the peaceful outcomes, especially the Good one, the ordeal is a series of unpleasant self-reflections that even causes him to become overwhelmed by sorrow at one point. In the end, Daeran’s choice stems not from an ulterior motive or a desire to boost his ego but from genuine fondness for the boy. The youngster's belief in the Count’s kindness and heroism reminds him of his own innocence that was prematurely and brutally snatched from him. At his core, Daeran is not a self-sufficient master of his own fate but a helpless child thrown by unfortunate circumstances into otherworldly oppression and a vicious cycle of selfishness. In the Evil routes, he successfully deludes himself into believing he’s the former, but here, he realizes he’s the latter.
We're used to seeing Daeran scoffing at saccharine narratives and lofty ideals, and in the Evil versions, he's indeed annoyed with the boy’s portrayal of him. In one of them, he even anticipates him to be disenchanted, finding the prospect amusing. In the campaign's early stages, the Count voices his dissatisfaction with being enrolled in the crusade and laments the tarnishing of his ill reputation. Any suggestions that he may be secretly vulnerable are met with biting retorts. But now, Daeran doesn't disabuse the child and isn’t even bothered by being seen as a heroic figure. There also isn’t any objection when the Commander points out the similarity between him and the boy. He’s shocked they can see through him but decides to be honest and agrees with their assessment. Daeran’s sensitivity and his tendency to be more emotionally transparent with the protagonist is, at this point, a recurring theme in the peaceful outcomes, so it’s a shame that when they later choose to compliment his vulnerable soul, he's always equally dismissive.
Daeran is perfectly aware of how damaging cruel disillusionment can be to one’s psyche. As a child, he witnessed firsthand the powerlessness of good in the face of evil, the suffering adhering to moral principles can bring, and how those who claim to be righteous can turn out to be as callous and uncaring as hardened villains. These experiences left the young Count with a pessimistic view of the world and human nature, making him adopt coping mechanisms that only deepened his melancholy and loneliness. Knowing this, he wishes to spare the boy a similar fate and plays along to preserve his innocence.
In the non-peaceful outcomes, Daeran gives the signet away as if it was an insignificant bauble. But even though we barely ever see this side of him, some dialogues indicate he’s proud of his heritage and his ancestors' role in Mendev’s history. They were valiant defenders of the kingdom, who, for generations, protected its borders from any threat. This is who the Count, as a scion of the Arendae house, was originally destined to be and who, it so happens, the boy sees in him. Perhaps his take on him makes Daeran reflect on how differently things could have turned out had it not been for his family's demise and the Other’s interference. It undoubtedly revokes memories of his roots and deceased kin, since he not only rewards the child with the ring but also educates him on its meaning and sentimental value, expressing unexpected sincerity and kindness. In the Lobotomy scenario, this gesture is particularly bittersweet — with his impeding childless death, Daeran’s lineage is going to expire, making the memento the only way to keep its memory alive.
Finally, the Good version of the scene carries a deep symbolic significance. Daeran rewards one person who doesn't focus on his superficial traits or recreates the mask he hides behind. The image the boy paints of him may not be accurate, but while the other portrayals embody what the Count turned into under the Other's influence, this one shows what he could have been if he hadn’t lost the childish naivety he now longs for. And who he, despite his own skepticism, still can or perhaps even already started to become, thanks to the good protagonist's compassion and support. Just like the Commander, the boy views him as someone better than what his predicament forced him to be. And Daeran, confronted with sincere faith in him, cannot help but answer the call.
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lovers-rck · 9 months ago
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little secret | abby anderson x reader.
summary abby anderson likes to read, and you like abby anderson. | friends to lovers, +18.
okay.... this is the longest fic i ever written (i think)
enjoy
but before, help palestine with one click.
You met her in winter. The immensity of the stadium they called home impressed you, a reconstructed civilization within an abnormality hard to ignore.
Even though she was the most respected soldier in the place, your memory ranks her welcome as the warmest. Between fluffy sweaters and worn leather jackets, Abby showed you a warmth that made Seattle's monstrous winter seem like a light summer breeze.
In addition to showing you the place where you would now live, immense and so functional it was frightening, Abby showed you more than the visible. As time passed, shyly, Abby took her time to show you her jokes, her favorite books, (of which there were many, you decided) her strange ways of combining food to kill hunger longer, her wounds; the internal and the external.
The personal library that Abby had begun to assemble when she arrived at W.L.F. was now familiar to you. When responsibilities left and the moon was present in the atmosphere, the two of you spent the night in that place. The bookshelves acted like skyscrapers over your bodies sitting on the floor, filled with books and comics that the W.L.F. soldiers encountered on their daily patrols.
"I think they're going to end up together" Abby mutters, her nose buried between the pages of an old red-covered book.
"You said the same thing about the other book last night" You replied. Youdidn't share the same passion for reading as Abby, but you enjoyed listening to her tell you about her new readings and her theories about what might or might not happen in those pages.
You liked that contrast with the soldier Abby, the one everyone knew, and the Abby you knew. During the day her posture was steady, stone-eyed and scrutinizing every movement nature had to offer, attentive and ready to pull the trigger at any danger, but when night fell, her posture changed completely; usually hunched over, her features softer, more relaxed.
"It's not my fault that everyone writes the same thing" Abby rolled her eyes, putting the book aside but not before folding a corner of the page, marking where it was left "I guess it was a popular idea back in the day"
"You should write a book."
Abby let out a groan, leaning back against the bookshelf behind her. The two of you were sitting on the floor, facing each other, separated by a pile of books scattered on the library's newest acquisition: a worn purple carpet.
"I'm not in the mood for jokes" Abby blurted out.
"Why?" you asked "It wasn't a joke anyway"
"Because of Manny. He was out of control today during patrol. He almost got us killed"
You rolled your eyes "You know what he's like" Abby massaged her shoulder absently, you could see her muscles twitch "I'm sure it was nothing, you just can't stand it when people don't follow your orders"
she looked at you, her eyebrows raised "Excuse me?"
Ypu laughed lightly "It's true. You're a serial controller."
"I'm not a serial controller, for your information" Abby said "It's just not a place for jokes"
"If you say..." you mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest and dropping the conversation; knowing Abby, she would never admit it.
"What?"
You shrugged, smiling graciously at Abby's accusatory look "I didn't say anything."
"You don't believe me" Abby scrutinized you with her gaze.
You shook your head "I didn't say that".
"But you thought it"
You rolled your eyes "Now you're a mind reader? I can see why you're considered the best soldier ever"
"There's nothing wrong with being controlling, Abs. That's the way you get everything you want. Everything you have" you continued.
Abby let out a sigh, her chest heaving, "Yeah, whatever"
The room fell into a deep silence for a couple of minutes. You decided to grab a book, trying to read it and make some sense of the words, but Abby's gaze on you prevented your brain from synapses.
"What?" you said in an accusatory tone, resting the book in your lap and looking at that blonde girl.
Now it was Abby's turn to shrug, a slight smirk planted on her face "I didn't say anything"
"Whatever."
Abby considered picking up her book as well, but saw no point in seeing the very predictable ending that the last few pages held. Your words were still echoing in her head; everything she wanted.
She, in fact, didn't have everything she wanted. Abby thought she lacked a handful of essentials; a reasonable sleep schedule, a meal that with all the proteins, a partner who wasn't a complete idiot on patrol.
But hey, those were luxuries given the circumstances.
To no one's surprise, you caught Abby's attention from the very first moment. She remembers with tenderness the first time she saw you, wet and covered with blood, hidden among the large leaves of a strange plant that had been born thanks to the combination of vegetation and fungus, with a look that Abby would never forget.
She felt the need to protect you, not because she considered you weak, but because a strange feeling led her to position herself in front of you when in the patrols you heard some infected too close, or that time when a Seraphite appeared unexpectedly and hurted you, and Abby kept chasing Mel through the corridors to remind her to be extremely careful with you.
"I know what I'm doing, Abby" she remembered how Mel told her one night "She's going to be fine"
Abby tried to convince herself that it was just that she had grown too attached to you, but something inside her told her it was something more than that, something deeper, more intense.
Abby thought she lacked a handful of things that were essential to her life, like you.
"You know, you read too many romance books" you said, snapping Abby out of her thoughts "Are you in love, Anderson?"
"Oh my god" Abby muttered "You should go to sleep, the lack of it is affecting your reasoning."
"So, is that a yes?"
"I don't choose what to read" Abby replied "I don't know if you noticed, but we're in an apocalypse. I don't have too many genres to choose from."
"You still haven't answered my question!"
Abby's muscles tensed as she could see how you moved from your position and sat closer to her, next to her. Abby could feel your arm brush against hers.
"So..." You murmured, your breath hitting Abby's lips "Tell me your little secret."
"My little secret?" Abby murmured, forcing herself to look only into your eyes.
"Who do you like?" And Abby snorted, rolling her eyes "Is it Nora? I've seen you two together a lot recently."
"No, wait, i know. It's mel, isn't it?" You continued. Your knee bumped into Abby's thigh.
"I'm not in love with Nora, or Mel, dumbass. They're my friends."
You emitted silence for a few seconds, and then:
"Is it Manny?"
"Are you kidding me?" Abby replied with a tone that made you burst out laughing, combined with all those laughs written on worn pages
"I'm sorry. I had to say it" you said with a chuckle.
Abby shook her head slowly, a smile planting itself on her face. Fucking Manny, she thought.
"So?" You said after a few minutes. Abby looked at you, her blue sapphires piercing your gaze. "Who is it?" You muttered, your voice coming out weaker than intended.
Siddenly the library became the quietest place in that giant structure. Every whisper, every sigh felt too aggressive, too loud; something that threatened to break the intimacy that the proximity of your bodies had created.
Abby slowly denied with her head, closing her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, something had changed in her gaze.
"You're not going to tell me?" You whispered. Your hand rested close to Abby's. At some point, you doubted whether your bones had turned to magnet and Abby's to metal because of the way a supernatural force was compelling you to be close to her.
She denied again, but the way her eyes flicked to your mouth for a microsecond gave her away.
"It's okay" you whispered "I think I have an idea."
The first time you saw her, that winter, you noticed that Abby had a tendency to lick her lips constantly. It didn't seem odd to you, as the winter in Seattle was very dry and lip balm was not something they were equipped with at the W.L.F, but as time went on you noticed that Abby had a tendency to lick her lips only when she was with you; when you pretended you didn't know she was looking at you, when you got close to her face to apply a lipstick you found in one of the patrolling days, when you gave her a kiss on the cheek on the morning of her birthday.
And now, just before your lips meet hers.
For the first few seconds neither of you move. Your lips linger on hers shyly, too terrified to move but refusing to pull away. Abby has to muster all her strength to move her hand to your jaw, holding you, and suddenly every shred of fear leaves her.
Your lips instantly reciprocate, too hungry, too thirsty for her taste. Abby thinks that now that she finally knows what it feels like to kiss you, she fears not being able to stop.
Her hand, which initially started on your cheek, travels down your body to your waist squeezing the flesh viciously. Her fingerprints savor every touch your body provides, skin that has been reserved for so long just for her enjoyment.
When Abby's hand makes contact with the exposed portion of skin, the air circulating through the stadium feels insufficient. Your body takes on an inhuman heat, a heat worthy of the iron emanating from the gates to hell, a heat that only she can cease.
"Abby" your lips release, a strangled moan.
"I know" She replies.
Your body was now a mass that Abby could mold as she wished. She is overcome with a sweeping euphoria as she becomes aware of the control your body offers her, and thinks maybe you were right; she likes to be in control.
You try to keep up with her movements. You touch her skin, her arms, afraid to ruin the pattern of freckles that rest perfectly on her rosy shoulders.
In a matter of seconds you end up on her lap, your legs hugging her thighs, clinging to the new sensation that Abby's shyness deprived you of for so long. Between kisses, you can hear the moans the blonde's mouth emits, weak but guttural moans.
"Can I..." Abby murmurs, her mouth on top of yours "Can I touch you?"
Your throat fails to find the strength to elicit a sound, so you just nod, eager for anything that comes from her. Instantly you feel Abby's fingers undoing your belt and unbuttoning the button of your pants, but just as you're ready for the next thing, Abby's fingers linger in place.
"What's wrong?" you ask, strands of hair interrupting your vision. Your hair feels so tousled "You don't have to if you don't want to Abs."
Abby shakes her head, her eyes drift to her hands lying in your lap, fiddling with the button "It's nothing" she murmurs "It's just.... It's been a while, you know?"
And you understand. Your fingers stroke the backs of Abby's arms.
"I understand. You don't have to be nervous" you say, trying to get her to look at you "It's just us."
Abby nods. She looks at your abdomen, the way your t-shirt hugs your waist.
"If it makes you feel any better, I never did this" you whisper, and that's all it takes for Abby to look at you.
"Never?"
you deny "Never"
"What about the redheaded girl last month? You told me things happened."
You stifle a laugh, embarrassed. Now it's your turn to look away from Abby and focus on the pattern on her shirt.
"It was stupid. We didn't do anything, it scared me" you can feel her tuck an unruly lock behind your ear, her fingertips caressing your face "It was just a silly kiss."
Abby nods slowly, her gaze still on you "Okay. Okay."
Behind the library doors, women and children walk the halls, leaders give orders and soldiers disappear behind the massive doors while others return from adventures. The world is functional again.
"Do you think it's stupid?" you mutter.
"What? No" Abby denies "It's not stupid. It's fine. Besides, it's not like we have a lot of time for that kind of thing around here"
Your lips let out a chuckle. "Yeah, that's true."
Your eyes match Abby's gaze, who smiles slightly. Her smile is sweet, friendly, you can feel the warmth that is so characteristic of her, nestling between the corners of her mouth
This time she starts the kiss. This time it is calmer, less desperate, but just as passionate. Her fingers return to what concerns them, and navigate between your pants and the elastic of your underwear.
Her fingers are cold, so you stir in her lap at the sensation and Abby laughs, apologizing softly. You quickly forget about the sharp change in temperature because you have Abby where you want her most.
Even though it's been a long time since the last time, Abby is quick to pull your panties to the side and find a rhythm that has you moaning in seconds. Your lips break the kiss several times, moans seeking air and space to make themselves present.
"Is this okay?" Abby murmurs into your neck, wet kisses planting themselves on your skin.
Your hips move against her hand, desperate "Yes Abs" the hot air of your breath hits against her ear, and Abby almost lets out the most obscene sound ever uttered "Please, keep going."
Abby's free hand massages your breasts, squeezes and fondles them. Her tongue plays with the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking and marking every inch.
The euphoria and pleasure of the moment makes you feel invincible, and your hand darts toward Abby's pants, unzipping them and finding her black boxers.
"What are you doing?" Abby says, choked words.
You ignore her and continue your task, reaching inside her underwear and trying to mimic the move you do to yourself on nights where your body lies too warm on the sheets of some room at the W.L.F. Your movements are clumsy, but they work wonders for Abby, who stifles her moans into your neck.
As her nature defines her, Abby is a competitive girl in every way, so when she feels an immense heat who tries to collapse her under your effects, her fingers pick up the pace and pull desperate moans from your throat.
There was no way Abby would finish before you.
"Abby" you moan, your fingers losing rhythm "Abby"
"I know."
It doesn't take too many seconds before your body shudders under Abby's control and moans and groans come out of your mouth, which you choke on her shoulder.
Pleasure blurs your vision and senses, so you can't anticipate when a trembling, whimpering Abby pulls your hand from her intimacy and her muscles contract accompanied by a long, shuddering moan.
You and her breathing evens out, both of your breasts moving to the rhythm of the beat that is their hearts tuned to the same station.
You look at her. She looks at you.
Abby thinks this ending is better than any book she's ever read.
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highseas-swede · 1 year ago
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Aziraphale and Trauma
[Just a note that I initially wrote this in response to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/theangelyouknew/732357015604756480?source=share&ref=_tumblr which is full of insightful info. I'm reposting my response here with some minor edits so it's easier to find in tags.]
This is something I actually find interesting within the fandom, because there seems to be this weird divide in fandom when it comes to Aziraphale.
See, I love Aziraphale. I think he's an amazing and well nuanced character, but a lot of the time fandom boils him down into this really simple version of himself. This happens both with people who dislike him and claim he's a bad person as well as with those who want to soften him up and make him more palatable. Aziraphale isn't the only one who has trouble with black and white thinking here!
Things like Coffee Theory remove Aziraphale's agency because the thought of Aziraphale doing something to hurt Crowley deliberately is something they can't stomach. If Aziraphale is acting under some kind of major magical influence, it means that it's possible to brush over the fact that he can - and has - hurt Crowley in the past and it certainly hasn't always been accidental.
There's a lot of Psychology I could touch on here, but it's honestly such a complicated topic that I don't really feel I can do it justice attached to a completely different topic.
But one thing I do want to touch on a bit is how Aziraphale asserts control in his own life via his connection with Crowley, and that touches on something equally complicated, which is something that's probably hard to understand.
Abuse victims are often manipulative.
I don't mean this at all as some kind of slight or insult. I've been an abuse victim myself and it's one reason I know it's true.
Fandom talks a lot about Crowley's trauma and he's got loads, to be sure. I think of that meme about "this bad boy can fit a lot of trauma" and it's very true. I've even seen people mention that Aziraphale has a different kind of Trauma than Crowley, which is also true.
What I haven't seen is someone addressing that the type of religious trauma is a form of CPTSD. CPTSD or "Complex PTSD" is a very specific form of PTSD. PTSD is characterized as being the result of a traumatic event - Crowley's fall, for example, is a good example of PTSD and I can go into that at some point. CPTSD is different because it's not a singular event, it's the result of being in a constant high stress situation. A lot of abuse victims - especially those abused by parental figures or significant others - have this form of PTSD.
A good way to see the difference is in comparing how they relate to their trauma. When Crowley thinks he's lost Aziraphale in S1, it sends him into a spiral. But importantly we see that this traumatic event is causing Crowley to go back to another traumatic event in time, triggering his memories of his fall. This emphasizes how much Crowley's fall defines his trauma. We rarely see him experiencing trauma at the hands of Hell, as he's mostly allowed freedom to handle his job on earth the way he wants.
https://cptsdfoundation.org/ defines CPTSD as "the results of ongoing, inescapable, relational trauma. Unlike Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Complex PTSD typically involves being hurt by another person. These hurts are ongoing, repeated, and often involving a betrayal and loss of safety."
In humans, this is caused by having no sense of safety in key moments of development. It strips away sense of self, sense of worth and really any agency. We even see the angels using direct gaslighting tactics on Aziraphale in S2, which I'm surprised doesn't get mentioned more often: When they come to the bookshop looking for Gabriel, they mention Gabriel and then almost immediately when Aziraphale asks "you were looking for Gabriel", Uriel outright says a line that goes something like "Did we say we were looking for Gabriel?", leading Aziraphale to fumble and try to remember if they did, in fact, say that at some point (they did).
So, one big thing to know about CPTSD and this kind of abuse related trauma is that learning to lie and be manipulative is often what people have to do to survive. Children with abusive parents will learn how to be manipulative in order to get what they need or avoid losing things they need.
We see this with Aziraphale, time and time again. He could just ASK Crowley for things he wants. A lot of people point out that he could ask and that Crowley would probably give in to him most of the time anyway. But that's not how it works in an abusive home. Instead, Aziraphale maneuvers Crowley into situations where Crowley is forced to give him what he needs or wants.
His lack of agency, as a result of his CPTSD, is also why he needs to be worked into making decisions that he already knows - or at least suspects - are right. That's why they have their little dance every time Crowley has to talk Aziraphale into something by finding the right way to frame it so it makes sense with Aziraphale's strict rule structure. These rules exist as a defensive mechanism too. Having rules makes it easier to figure out how to avoid being hurt and Aziraphale cannot simply step outside the rules because it's Not Safe. Not even with someone he trusts as much as Crowley.
The entire apology dance scene stands out for a few reasons. Everything Aziraphale does in the entire scene is an act that allows him to take control of the situation. He's already won, so to speak, because Crowley is back and Crowley is going to do what he wants. The apology is unnecessary on every level.
This post talks about how uncomfortable Crowley has to be sharing a space with Gabriel. Gabriel is with the abusive team, whether or not he was directly involved with Crowley's fall. Crowley also harbors a severe distress and mistrust of Gabriel because of Gabriel's attempts to destroy Aziraphale, the most important person to Crowley. But it's worth noting that Aziraphale is uncomfortable too.
Another good indicator of how stressed Aziraphale is with all this is that he doesn't eat ANYTHING when Gabriel is in the shop. The only food he consumes in modern era is when he's in the Bentley which is a "safe" space. Gabriel constantly hounded Aziraphale over eating and despite offering Gabriel hot chocolate, we don't see him partaking himself. He does briefly drink to demonstrate how "drinking tea" works for Muriel, but he doesn't seem to drink from his cup at all after demonstrating.
The bookshop is also Aziraphale's safe space, his ONLY safe space - Crowley still technically has the Bentley, and honestly I feel like Aziraphale wanting to borrow the Bentley is actually partially because he needs to get away from Gabriel and the Bentley is the only place that feels safe for him at the moment. Shax ruins any illusion of safety for him, but Aziraphale is much more enthused for his trip in ep3 and a fair amount of it is because he's not trapped with Gabriel.
A small note here, as a thought occurs to me. Aziraphale asserting that the Bentley is "our car" is probably mostly for himself. He's trying to realign his thinking to make the Bentley an acceptable "safe space" for himself prior to the trip.
There is a very different relationship dynamic when it comes to Gabriel and Aziraphale because Gabriel is the constant source of Aziraphale's trauma. He's Aziraphale's superior, the one he has to report to, the one who passes down his missions and his punishments. When Aziraphale takes Gabriel in, he's just invited his former abuser of over 6000 years into his safe haven. This is a hugely uncomfortable thing for an abuse survivor.
Worst of all, because Jim is, for all intents and purposes, NOT Gabriel, Aziraphale can't bring himself to lash out at his former abuser the way he wants to.
That brings us back to this apology scene.
There are two major things going on here and both of them are bad and hurtful toward Crowley. They're also both intensely unfair. I love Aziraphale but this was definitely a dick move.
Firstly: Aziraphale is using Crowley to reassert a sense of control over the situation because he is spiraling. He can't assert control over his life and his shop, which is one thing that he falls back on heavily, and that leaves him scrambling to find somewhere where he can control his situation. He makes Crowley go through this whole unnecessary apology and dance routine because it makes him feel like he has control over SOMETHING in his life right now.
Secondly: Aziraphale is also enacting his own trauma on Crowley. He's treating Crowley the way Heaven treats him. This is a direct parallel to the way Crowley terrorizes his house plants because he can't do anything to the people who actually caused his trauma. This is, obviously, wildly unfair of Aziraphale to do - and I'm fairly sure there are other small moments where Aziraphale does this in a mild way, I'd have to rewatch again.
These are both behaviors common in CPTSD caused by environments that apply this constant state of stress.
I'm not going to say it's right, or that Aziraphale isn't being a bit of a bastard in this moment - he absolutely is - but this behavior does have some obvious triggers that might be easy to overlook. It's just important to understand that Aziraphale is falling into self-preservation habits that are actively detrimental to his relationship with Crowley. It's not just the manipulation, he's also hiding things and lying to Crowley when he really shouldn't be - both things often necessary in abusive environments - but he's doing it because that's the method that he's created that works with his abusive relationship in Heaven and he's falling back on it because he feels unsafe. The trouble is, this survival tactic does not work with Crowley and actively makes things worse because it shuts down open communication entirely.
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elspethdekarios · 1 month ago
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I have thoughts about Anders
So I just finished Dragon Age: Awakening (I’ve played through all 3 main games, went back to do the DLC) and I have so many thoughts about how different Anders is pre- and post-Justice sharing his body. I think part of this is the voice actor change in DA2, but his personality seems so different, too. Awakening Anders is sarcastic, always cracking jokes, mostly light-hearted even after everything he’s been through. DA2 Anders has moments like this, but he’s much more intense and brooding. Awakening Anders has a few lines about wanting to settle down with a pretty girl or have a plump wife waiting for him at home, but DA2 Anders is PINING. And with the time skip, it’s a slow burn. Awakening Anders doesn’t strike me as the slow burn type—he’s very flirty and even a little raunchy at times. But Anders in DA2 doesn’t really act like that. He’s got a tortured, romantic soul. He’s much more serious. And maybe it’s just because he’s grown up a little bit, but now that I’ve met Justice as a character before he and Anders become one, I wonder how much of that change is Anders maturing vs. Justice’s personality coming through.
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I know this game has been out forever and I’m probably not saying anything new, but Anders is so fascinating to me. More rambling and dialogue analysis under the cut:
The very first thing that struck me as different about Anders in Awakening (other than his general personality) was his response to Wynne telling the Warden Commander that the Libertarians in the Circle want to pull away from the Chantry, and Anders says that it’s a recipe for disaster. SIR! WHO ARE YOU?
Awakening Anders also doesn’t seem particularly interested in justice for mages or revenge for how he and other mages have been treated. He wants his freedom, and I’m sure he wants freedom for other mages too, but he’s not exactly radical like he is in DA2. In fact, it’s Justice who seems to inspire Anders to, well, seek justice. I’m emphasizing some of this dialogue to analyze it below:
Justice: I understand that you struggle against your oppression, mage. Anders: I avoid my oppression. That's not quite the same thing, is it? Justice: Why do you not strike a blow against your oppressors? Ensure they can do this to no one else? Anders: Because it sounds difficult? Justice: Apathy is a weakness. Anders: So is death. I'm just saying.
Justice: I believe you have a responsibility to your fellow mages. Anders: That bit of self-righteousness is directed at me? Justice: You have seen oppression and are now free. You must act to free those who remain oppressed. Anders: Or I could mind my business, in case the Chantry comes knocking. Justice: But this is not right. You have an obligation. Anders: Yes, well... welcome to the world, spirit.
Now, look at this conversation between Anders and Isabela in DA2:
Anders: I don't know how you live the way you do, blithely ignoring the consequences of your actions. Isabela: This is about the Qunari thing, isn't it? I'm not ignoring it. I just recognize that it happened years ago. Isabela: There's this fantastic thing called "moving on." You should try it sometime. Anders: Has it occurred to you that Kirkwall is only just recovering from the Qunari attack? Isabela: And you want me to... what? Flog myself daily? Isabela: Has it occurred to you that maybe there's no justice in the world? Other than that voice you keep in your head.
Isabela sounds more like Awakening Anders than Anders himself does in this conversation. Justice accuses Awakening Anders of ignoring the oppression of other mages like DA2 Anders accuses Isabela of ignoring the consequences of her actions (for the record, I don’t think either of these assumptions are 100% true, but I digress). In Awakening, Anders is cynical when Justice tells him he has an obligation. What can he change? He has to worry about his own survival as an apostate before risking his life even more to save others. Hence the line “welcome to the world, spirit.” Anders is pragmatic, even a little pessimistic, where Justice is idealistic.
But then, the conversation with Isabela! Like Justice tried to convince Anders of his obligation to other mages, Anders now is trying to convince Isabela to take responsibility for her actions. She’s ignoring the unrest that was caused by her stealing the Qunari tome instead of doing something to help—just like Awakening Anders is ignoring his oppressor. 
When Anders and Justice merge, Anders starts to see the bigger picture, the oppression that reaches far beyond himself. From the short story Anders:
I always knew I wouldn't submit. I could never be what they wanted from me -- compliant, obedient, guilty. But before Justice, I was alone. I never thought beyond my own escape: Where would I hide? How long before they found me? Now, even that thought repulses me. Why should so many others live with what I will not? Why must the Circle of Magi stand? Just because it always has, just because those who read Andraste's words twisted them to mean that mages must be prisoners? Why has there never been a revolution? … They will all die. Every templar, every holy sister who stands in the way of our freedom will die in agony and their deaths will be our fuel. We will have justice. We will have vengeance. And suddenly I'm alone, standing in a burning forest, with the bodies of templars and wardens at my feet. So many, and I didn't even know they were there. Didn't even know I had killed them, but the evidence is all around me. Not the aftermath of a battle as I've known it, but a bloody abattoir of rent limbs and torn and eaten flesh. This is not justice. This is not the spirit who was my friend, my self. What has he become? What have I become? We must get out of here. There is no place for me in the Grey Wardens now. Is there a place for me anywhere?
First of all, ow, my heart. But the point is: before he becomes part of Anders, Justice doesn’t feel a personal connection to mages’ freedom—he only cares because of the injustice. But once he and Anders become one, the source of injustice that Anders cares about the most, that he has deep resentment for, that has caused him great harm, becomes Justice’s cause. We know that Justice can sense/feel memories of the body he inhabits because he remembers some of Kristoff’s past, or at least feels connections to certain objects or people even if he can’t explain it. Kristoff was dead, though, so those memories were only fragments. I imagine that with Anders, he can experience those memories more clearly, including, of course, the injustice he and others have suffered at the hands of the templars. Justice is able to integrate into Anders fully, whereas with Kristoff, the body was an empty vessel with remnants of the past soul that was within it. 
Now, let’s talk about where Anders ends and Justice begins, something that even Anders himself is unsure of. Here are some DA2 banters about the division (or lack thereof) between the two of them:
(Outside The Hanged Man, Act 3) Anders: Justice doesn't let me get drunk anymore. I kind of miss it.
(in Legacy DLC) Anders: I've tried to forget about this side of myself. Justice is... so strong. Sometimes the Wardens seem insignificant. But seeing that poor bastard brings it all back. The Darkspawn taint. The call of the archdemon. It's inside me, as much a part of me as Justice.
Anders: Justice once asked me why I didn't do more for other mages. I told him it was too much work. Anders: But I couldn't go back after that. Couldn't stop thinking about it. Anders: Sometimes, I miss being that selfish.
Varric: So, the knight-commander... Boiling in oil? That one never gets old. Anders: This is past time for joking. Varric: I'm helping you indulge in elaborate revenge fantasies. I think it's good for you. Anders: Meredith will die. Do not doubt that. Varric: Go away, Justice. Can Anders come out and play? Anders: [Justice voice] Stop. Varric: You are no fun anymore.
(if Anders was taken to the Fade) Anders: I have tried to avoid the Fade since Justice. It's disturbing when he takes over.
The above dialogues imply that Anders and Justice are two separate entities in one body. The one from Legacy is tricky, since he compares it to the taint, but he still refers to Justice as separate from himself, which is why I included it. And that’s not even touching on the fact that Justice has a different voice than Anders. But these:
Aveline: So you're two people, Anders and... Justice? Anders: That's not strictly accurate. Aveline: But you are of two minds. Anders: Many people are.
Isabela: Hello? Is Anders there? Can I speak to Anders? Anders: You can stop yelling. It's always me. Isabela: Oh, good. I didn't want to talk to that other guy. You know, the stick-in-the-mud. Anders: He can still hear you. Justice and I are one. Anders: Anyway, you wanted to talk to me? Isabela: Not really. I just wanted to make sure it was you.
(If Hawke convinces Anders to give up his plan) Vengeance: Leave! This does not concern you! Hawke: This is Anders's decision, not yours! Vengeance: I am Anders! You have given into sloth. You would stand by while mages are abducted and tortured. Go. Anders has no need of you.
There’s not a clear answer either way. And I didn’t expect to find one. I think a lot of this back and forth is Anders trying to understand who he is now that Justice is part of him. He clearly still feels like he has some level of agency and individuality apart from Justice, but he struggles with it. This feels very anticlimactic, but I guess that’s just the nature of it all.
If you read this far, wow thanks. Now to not leave off on a sad note, here are some DA2 banters that feel very Awakening Anders to me - please enjoy <3
Anders: I keep thinking I know you from somewhere... Isabela: You're Fereldan, right? Ever spend time at the Pearl? Anders: That's it! Anders: You used to really like that girl with the griffon tattoos, right? What was her name? Isabela: The Lay Warden? Anders: That's right! I think you were there the night I— Isabela: Oh! Were you the runaway mage who could do that electricity thing? That was nice... Hawke: Please stop talking. Now. (Or if Varric is in the party) Varric: I don't think I need to know this about either of you.
Anders: So, I never expected to be palling around with the captain of the guard. Aveline: We're not "pals." Anders: We're not? What about that time we painted each other's toenails? Aveline: Do you want something? Anders: Love, life, and liberty. What more does a man need?
Anders: Nice day to be planning a trip into the Deep Roads, don't you think? Anders: The Blight, the dampness, the festering darkness filled with tainted rats... Carver: Shut up. Anders: You've got a real chip on your shoulder, you know? Carver: I've got a big blade on my shoulder, magey. Anders: Right. Wonder what you're compensating for.
Fenris: Is there something you want, Anders? Anders: You really don't have the temperament for a slave. Fenris: Is that a compliment or an insult? Anders: I'm just wondering how your master didn't kill you. Fenris: How have the templars not killed you? Anders: I'm charming.
Anders: Is that supposed to be Andraste's face on your crotch? Sebastian: What? Anders: That... belt buckle thing. Is that Andraste? Sebastian: My father had this armor commissioned when I took my vows as a brother. Anders: I'm just not sure I'd want the Maker seeing me shove His bride's head between my legs every morning.
(All dialogue found on the Dragon Age fandom wiki.)
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twilightkitkat · 9 days ago
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Ok two things
1) I genuinely can't remember if I've asked this before but I would LOVE your take of the lingering after effects of the rant in the Honda Odyssey. Mainly because I'm going to talk about it again because it means a lot to me (Hugh Jackman my beloved you beautiful beautiful actor)
2) If you can make a tag specifically for the asks It would make navigation 10 times easier because I don't have an easy way of checking what I have and haven't asked (also sometimes I just want to read through everything you've said in response to stuff)
I've said a few things about the Odyssey before but I don't think I've ever answered an ask specifically about it. I have a short fanfic about this topic, actually. (Also good idea, I hadn't thought of adding a tag. I decided to tag my posts with #asks if you want to filter through them.)
The thing about Wade is that he tries to sweep his feelings under the rug. All the time. No matter how hurt he is. He tries to bottle up his feelings because he thinks they're stupid and that they make him vulnerable but they get to be too much and eventually, he bursts. So he holds all of his resentment and pain and fear inside of him, acting composed and unaffected, until he finally reaches a breaking point. And when he breaks, he breaks hard.
The issue with this is that because he's so good at acting fine, other people think he's fine. Or, well, as "fine" as Wade normally was. Everyone knew Wade had a few screws loose and that he was prone to impulsive behavior, but that was just common knowledge by now. He's insane but that's just how he is. But Wade is exceptionally good at masking genuine hurt as insanity and recklessness, so when his true emotions spill over it shocks those around him. He doesn't give any visible indication he feels upset until he suddenly snaps.
The Honda Odyssey is the same. Things are going shockingly smooth between Logan and Wade at first. They focus on doing missions for the TVA and through mercenary organizations together and manage to scrap together something resembling a routine. Wade distracts himself with the thrill of his new life so he doesn't have enough time to ponder or dissect his own emotions. Nothing good ever comes of that, anyway.
But Logan's words stick with Wade. Of course they do, how could they not? He took apart everything he shared with him and used it against him. He dug into every fucking pressure point, rubbing all his insecurities raw. And so naturally, they boil over.
It doesn't have to be a big event. They can just be washing the dishes and Logan makes a joke, or watching a show together. But suddenly it's all rushing back to Wade and the emotions are overwhelming in their intensity and he's breaking down and snapping at Logan, who's confused about what's wrong.
And Wade... doesn't know what to say. Because how can he explain that he's still hung up on a stupid speech Logan gave ages ago? It's embarrassing and childish, especially when he knows it's all true.
And he knows it is. Wade's turned it over in his head when he couldn't sleep, rolled the syllables over his own tongue, and replayed Logan's expressions as he spat the words out. Logan meant it. And he was right, Wade is pathetic. He's fucked up and isn't cut out to be anyone's hero and he's so unlovable that he couldn't keep the only girl who loved him despite his disfigured avocado face.
He knows and yet it still hurt for Logan to say it. For his hero, someone he looked up to and admired, to look and see him in all his glory only to spit in his face. To hear it confirmed by someone whose opinion mattered to him.
It sticks with him. It festers and grows and gnaws at him. He watches Logan for any signs of disappointment or contempt, is especially careful to bring up his past relationships, and remains on edge. He doesn't let himself fully relax or get comfortable. He keeps an eye on the door, waiting for Logan to walk out.
But he's fine. He's managing. Until suddenly it boils over and he isn't and he has to look Logan in the face and explain why he flinched when Logan yelled at him over something stupid.
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soulessjourney · 10 months ago
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One Last Time
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Paring: Astarion x fem!DurgTavReader
Word count: 5.5k
Summary: Just what truly happened during the battle with Ketheric Thorm?
Warnings: Angst, Mentions of violence, OOC Astarion, injuries, talk of mental health, some fluff, Tav is on her journey of having a redeption arc, Confessions, some fluff, Heavy Act 2 Spoilers
A/N: Buckle up kiddies this is gonna be a long one. I did add a bit of my own spin on things in some parts just to help fill in the aspects of the fighting to make it more dramatic.
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Ketheric Thorm, a man who defied death and wasn't meant to survive. He bore the responsibility for unleashing the Shadow Curse and cowardly sought refuge in Moonrise Towers, at least that's how you perceived it. Meeting him as a true soul set the stage for your downfall. Upon your arrival, your Guardian, with a hint of disgust in her voice, made you acutely aware of his identity. Being in proximity to the absolute felt like a dream, yet an unsettling feeling lingered. You sensed manipulation, as if you were a mere pawn in his game. Moonrise, though familiar, seemed to beckon you, and the guards appeared well-informed about your identity. Anger and fury welled up within you, resentful of the power he wielded. A part of you contended that this power was rightfully yours, and an irresistible urge to claim it consumed you.
As your eyes follow Thorm out of the room, Astarion clears his throat beside you. "Well, that was eventful. Say, how are we supposed to kill someone who can't be killed? Seems like a setup if you ask me." He shrugs, prompting a scoff from Shadowheart.
"You know, Astarion, I would like to go one day without your comments," she grumbles, eliciting a pout from Astarion and a breathless laugh from you. After about a month or two of being together, your group had grown close, opening up in various ways. Despite only being together for a short time, they appointed you the leader, leading to disagreements, especially with more qualified individuals like Gale.
The banter between Astarion and Shadowheart continues as you walk out of the tower. "I'm just saying, Darling, there's no way in the nine hells we can kill someone who simply cannot be killed. That's like asking a rock to walk," he shrugs, shooting a smug smile toward Shadowheart.
Just as she opens her mouth to respond, you cut them off. "That's enough, you two. The entire Shadow Land can hear your bickering," you grumble as Lae’zel nods in agreement. "Besides, we're almost to the Mausoleum, and it's rude to disturb the dead," you say, suppressing a smile at the pure annoyance on Shadowheart's face. It's rare for Astarion to get the last word, and when he does, he becomes the cockiest man alive.
Falling behind your group, Gale nudges you and raises a questioning brow. It's unusual for you to lag behind, considering your usual determination to lead and be the first to jump into action to protect your party. "What's going on in that head of yours?" he asks, keeping his voice low so as not to draw attention.
Shrugging, you fiddle with your armor before letting out a sigh. "I just don't have the best feeling. It's like something is about to happen, and we won't be able to avoid it. I'm worried that whatever we're about to face, there's no coming back from it." Odd feelings weren't unfamiliar to you; after all, you constantly battled the urge to commit daily murders. However, today's unease had you more concerned than usual.
Gale nods, letting out a thoughtful hum as he considers his response. "It's not because I plan on blowing myself up, is it?" he asks, a laugh escaping his lips. His expression turns serious when he notices your lack of laughter. "Tav, everything will be okay. We have each other, and we're all equally dedicated to ensuring our survival. Nothing will happen, and I especially know that Astarion won't let anything happen to you," he says, giving you a knowing look.
You and Astarion shared something, although you weren't sure what it was beyond the occasional intimacy. Both of you were highly protective of each other, yet he dismissed it as shameless flirting. You desired something more with Astarion, but you knew he was apprehensive. He was new to the affection you showed him and unfamiliar with being cared for in a way he had never experienced before.
Just as you were about to respond, a figure emerges from the shadows just before you reach the Mausoleum. Astarion groans at the sight of Raphael gliding towards your group, his usual mischievous smile spread widely across his lips. "Well, well, isn't it my favorite group of adventurers?" he says, stopping just before your group. You step forward, noting how Astarion positions himself behind you, rolling his shoulders forward almost as if to appear larger—a simple act of protection that's hard to resist smiling at. "I know it's odd for a Devil to ask for a favor, but there's something I'll grant you in return," Raphael says, locking his eyes on yours.
Astarion scoffs and crosses his arms. "Just spit it out already; we don't have time for your riddles," he deadpans, shifting closer to you, ready to throw you behind him if Raphael makes a move to harm you.
"Now, now, this isn't the time to lack patience," Raphael says, standing taller. "I need you to take care of a problem, a competition, we can call it. In return, I'll give your little vampire friend answers about the scars on his back—a translation that I know you both are just dying to know." He grins, watching your eyes widen before turning to look back at Astarion. "His name is Yurgir, and dealing with him will do a lot of good. He's breaking his contract and needs to be sent right back to where he came from as a...lesson." He says, looking over your group. "Once you find him, take care of him. I will know, and it will determine if you get the answers you so desperately seek." Just as he finishes his sentence, he disappears right in front of you.
Exhaustion seeps through you as your group stays quiet. "I guess we have some work to do," you mumble, walking forward into the Mausoleum. The others hesitate as they watch you, concerned about your sudden lack of energy. Usually, you would be up for anything, even if it meant dealing with a devil. As you walk into the building, the group exchanges worried glances before following you inside.
---
The confrontation with Yurgir turned out to be surprisingly easy, given his already paranoid state. With his contract entwined in a song, convincing him to turn against his allies, including Nessa, a displacer beast you empathized with, proved to be a straightforward task. In your mind, she didn't deserve to meet her end in the manner she did. Subsequently, you seamlessly entered his paranoid thoughts, persuading him to take his own life. Lae’zel and Astarion, usually at odds, expressed their shared disappointment at the lack of an actual fight to entertain them.
Amidst the discontent, your primary concern shifted to the current state of your group. Shadowheart, driven by determination, sought to complete Shar’s Gauntlet, a symbolic act to ascend and prove her loyalty to her goddess. While you couldn't help but worry about your friend, you understood her desire to seize this opportunity. As she faced the three challenges, ultimately finding the Spear of Night, you sensed a subtle shift in her demeanor.
Standing before the Nightsong, a woman bound to this realm with no apparent escape, you noticed a spark of questioning in Shadowheart's eyes, despite her determination. Confronting Thorm, you learned that releasing the Nightsong was the only way to weaken him and break his hold on immortality. The moment of decision arrived when Shadowheart, succumbing to her doubts, threw the spear over the edge, the mentioning of the forest and the wolves.
A surge of indescribable emotion coursed through you—perhaps pride or worry. It wasn't until Dame Aylin stepped forward, kneeling before Shadowheart, that the situation took a new turn. "Lay a hand of friendship upon me, and break my chains," she gently requested, her eyes meeting Shadowheart's before focusing on you. "Only when I am free can I aid you in taking down Ketheric Thorm." Shadowheart hesitated, glancing back at you for guidance.
Slowly nodding, she reached forward, resting a hand on Dame Aylin, breaking her chains once and for all. A portal opened behind you, and just before you could turn away, your eyes locked on Dame Aylin. Her armor began to form on her skin, and wings emitting a heavenly glow spread out behind her. Despite the look of recognition, all you received was a nod before she took off, leaving your group alone.
---
Now that Dame Aylin was free, things seemed to have accelerated much faster than anticipated. Drained and utterly tired, all you desired was to rest. Your head buzzed, and your ears rang, yet there you stood before Moonrise Towers, gearing up to face Ketheric Thorm. The urgency escalated with Dame Aylin's freedom, and a dark part of you wished she hadn't been released just so you could have some time to recuperate.
As you looked up at the towers, your body tensed when someone moved to stand beside you. A sense of relief washed over you as you saw Astarion. Smiling down, he shifted on his feet. "We're going to win, Darling. You have all of us ready to fight at your side. Don't overthink it," he said, shaking his head to silence any protests. "I can practically hear the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours," he added with a teasing grin. "But before we go in, can we talk? It's rather important, just in case we do meet our doom in there," he said softly.
Giving a half-hearted smile, you felt the exhaustion seeping out of you. Astarion took your hand, leading you aside as the rest of the group looked at you in question before starting their own conversations, providing you and Astarion with some privacy. "Are you alright?" you asked, scanning him for any injuries he might have sustained.
His expression changed, as if he were at war with himself. "Oh yes, I'm fine. I just... feel awful about something," he admitted. Confusion crept over you as you tried to recall any recent events that might explain his unease. It wasn't until you saw him shift nervously that you gave him a reassuring smile.
He continued, revealing a plan to seduce you, manipulate your feelings, and use you to defeat Cazador. The revelation left a bitter taste of betrayal in your mouth. You shifted, your posture rigid, waiting for an explanation. The truth unfolded—his plan fell apart because he couldn't resist falling for you.
His confession left you grappling with feelings of betrayal and hurt. "Were you even attracted to me? Or was that all a lie as well?" you asked, unable to contain the pain in your voice. His flinch confirmed the discomfort he felt.
Astarion, now uncomfortable and terrified, admitted, "Of course I was attracted to you. Look at you, for goodness’ sake! You’re a vision and so much more than that." He hesitated, expressing uncertainty about his feelings. "I just… I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what I want."
You shared your care for him, admitting your deep feelings. His face lit up at your words, and a soft 'really?' hung in the air. Without thinking, you moved forward, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle but secure hug. It felt like a silent promise of your genuine care. As he reciprocated the embrace, you sensed a change in him.
Astarion, being himself, smiled and cleared his throat. "You... You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?" he remarked, his eyes locking with yours, revealing hidden emotions. He let out a nervous laugh, pulling your attention back to him. "Honestly, I have no idea what we’re doing or what comes next," he confessed, holding out his hand.
You stared at his hand before placing your palm on top of his. His cool skin covered yours as he drew you closer. "But I know that this? This is nice," he whispered.
There you stood, face flushed, realizing that, in a twisted way, Astarion truly loved you, and you loved him more than anything. Happiness mingled with worry, as he chose this moment to confess, fearing the possibility of not making it out alive. Yet, living in the now, you vowed to fight alongside him, grateful for the truth he finally shared.
Wyll cleared his throat, redirecting your attention to the group standing there, beaming at the two of you. It was evident they had overheard everything, and judging by the look on Shadowheart’s face, a secretly hopeless romantic, they had heard it all.
"Okay, you lovebirds, we have a Thorm on our side that we need to kill," Wyll declared, letting out a loud laugh at his own joke. However, the laughter died down when no one else joined in. An awkward silence hung in the air until you snorted, breaking the tension and sending the rest of your group into fits of laughter.
Even in the face of potential doom, moments like these made you grateful to have them by your side. Wyll looked around, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. "Oh, I see how it is. It’s only funny when you put me down," he grumbled, prompting a genuine laugh from Lae’zel. The sound, rare and cherished, resonated among your group, appreciating the unexpected moment of joy.
---
The echoes of your laughter felt like a distant memory as you stood before Ketheric Thorm, anger seeping through you at the sight of him. The yells of your party echoed behind you as they fought against his soldiers, while he remained solely focused on you. Despite being mortal, he carried himself with immense confidence, as if convinced you could never truly defeat him. His smug demeanor fueled your desire to rip his head from his shoulders, yet something kept you rooted in the spot where you stood. Your attention shifted when something hot grazed your arm, prompting a pained yell as you gripped the wounded area. Thorm looked down at you with a smug smile, his eyes darkening.
"Who knew that you would come crawling to my doorstep? Why have you returned? Do you miss the throne in which you once sat?" he taunted, his words striking you like poison.
Although you had been here before, the realization that you used to occupy the throne he now warmed was a revelation. "I’m here to kill you," you declared, your hand warming with the blood seeping from your wounded arm. "I’m here to witness your downfall, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it," you spat, dropping your hand from your arm as you reached for the staff positioned on your back.
Thorm responded with an amused laugh, scanning the surroundings. "You? Kill me? I suppose you didn’t learn your lesson from the last time we had a falling out. Your father would be laughing at you now, seeing his perfect child turning her back on him," he seethed. Your eyes widened slightly before you shook your head. He was trying to toy with you, attempting to make you drop your guard, but you refused to let that happen.
You felt the fire spread through your palms before it traveled across the room toward Thorm. The lack of any reaction from him made you second-guess whether he was truly mortal now. Ascending the stairs, you stood face-to-face with Thorm, narrowing your eyes into a challenging glare. Swinging your weapon, the sound of steel clashing filled the air.
"You have the opportunity to surrender, Thorm. You don’t have to live like this," you declared, your voice stern as you pushed your weight into your weapon.
Thorm laughed and glared down at you. "You’ve become so weak. Your father has done nothing but brag about you, and yet here you are, offering me mercy. You are no daughter of his; no wonder you were cast out," he seethed, lifting his foot to kick you back. Tumbling, your weapon clashed against the ground beside you, and your eyes filled with fire. The urge to rip him apart from the inside out consumed you, and the taste of blood filled your mouth as your body became rigid.
The staff next to you vanished as a long sword with intricate designs slowly appeared in your hand. Standing slowly, you raised your eyes to meet his once more, and a smile settled onto his face. "There she is—the killer your father raised you to be," he said, rolling his shoulders back. A snarl escaped you as you raced forward, only to be thrown back as Dame Aylin slammed down into the area next to you and Thorm.
"Ketheric Thorm, your time is over. Here, you will fall by my hand," she declared as you stood up, your body shaking in rage. "My friend here has kept you busy enough; now it is my turn to aid her in this fight. You should’ve stayed dead," she snarled, leaping forward and landing a hit on Thorm, causing him to stumble back. Seizing the opportunity, you ran from beside her, slicing at him and making him groan in protest as your blade sank into his arm. The two of you fought in sync, one striking after another, knocking Thorm back with each blow.
Just when you thought things would finally be over, Thorm's soldiers stopped fighting, and the room grew quiet. Clutching your side to put pressure on the wound Thorm had given you moments prior, you spat the blood that filled your mouth onto the ground.
"You should’ve just let things rest. We wouldn’t have to go through all this fighting if you just let things remain the way they did," Thorm remarked, glancing toward the side of the roof. As if on cue, a large tentacle sprouted from the side of the building, knocking you off the platform. Landing on the ground a few feet away from Shadowheart, you struggled to suck in the air that was knocked out of your lungs. Helpless, you watched Dame Aylin try her best to fight the tentacle before being wrapped up and taken under the tower.
Shadowheart dropped to her knees beside you, holding a vial up to your lips. "Drink this; you’re in no shape to move," she said, her eyes scanning your body, taking in every wound. "Gods, Tav, you’re going to overwork yourself like this. We can take Thorm while you rest," she suggested gently, attempting to tend to your wounds. Pushing her hand away, you shook your head before sitting up, finally able to catch your breath.
"No, I need to take him down. I won’t leave you guys to fight alone," you grunted, wincing at just how sore your entire body was. Muffling the whimper that left your mouth, you stood before hobbling over towards the hole left in one of the pillars. The others walked up behind you, peering down from beside you. Looking at the others, you nodded before jumping down into the hole, listening as they followed behind you.
---
The path to find Thorm once again was long and grueling as you made your way through the mind-flayer colony. Along the way, you enlisted the help of a small brain that you had saved on the ship when you were first kidnapped. Now, you stood before the door separating you from Thorm. Upon your entrance, you noticed two other individuals with him—the same ones from your visions, but something about them seemed familiar. A chill ran through your bones when you heard her name: Orin. Hearing that name sent waves of anger through you, and you could even taste a small hint of betrayal as you looked at her. Something snapped you from your trance when you noticed Gale step forward. You had completely forgotten that he promised to carry out Mystra’s request, and the anger towards the goddess filled you once more.
“Whatever you are thinking of doing, Gale, it’s not worth it,” you said, meeting his gaze. He looked determined, and the sight broke your heart. “I won’t let you blow yourself up. We can find another way to please her or even save you, but ending your life like this isn’t worth it.” Part of you couldn't figure out why you were determined to save Gale, but the other knew that you needed him there. He was a friend and someone you knew how to talk to, seeking comfort when you weren’t sure how to open up to Astarion.
Astarion stepped up next to you and brushed your fingers with his before looking at Gale. “For once, I agree with our Darling leader here. We can’t afford to lose you just yet. You can blow yourself up another time, but that time isn’t now,” he said, meeting Gale’s eyes with determination.
Gale sighed and nodded as he looked at his two friends—one who was nothing but worried about him and the other begging him, in the most twisted way, to stay alive. “Alright, you’re right. Maybe this isn’t my time to go just yet. We have other opportunities for me to blow myself up. I’ll stay and fight beside you, and I promise to give it my all,” he said, smiling as your body relaxed, and relief filled your worn-down body.
As you stepped forward, Thorm met your gaze, his eyes hardening. "I see you all made it here alive—a shame, truly. I never wanted to hurt you, and I certainly never wanted to kill you. You all had so much to live for," he said, pity filling his voice. Your mind raced as you thought back to the letters you found in the tower. The letters from his wife and daughter gave you a chance at an attempt to convince him.
"Thorm, you don’t need to do this. You could be with Melodia again; you can be with the one you love without consequences," you said softly, stepping forward and wincing as you raised your arms to hold up your hands. "She’s waiting for you to come back to her, and you can finally use this as a chance to see her again." The battle in his eyes was evident. Looking towards Gale, you signaled him to go free Dame Aylin from the hold Thorm had on her. Gale nodded in silent agreement before disappearing from the spot next to you.
If Thorm did see Gale, he paid him no mind. "The goddess wouldn’t allow that to happen, not with what I have done," he said quietly, almost as if he was thinking it over. "Selûne would never allow me to be with her, not after the things that I have done." You couldn’t help but hear the pain in his voice as he spoke. He truly wanted to be with her, and you could see that internal war happening in his head.
"But you can. You can show Selûne that you’re willing to give this all up and give yourself to her. You can show her that you’re willing to sacrifice power just to be with the one person that you truly love." You didn’t know why your voice wobbled or why it felt like you would cry, but then it hit you. You would give everything to be with Astarion; you would sacrifice yourself to see him if he had been taken from you. You would destroy the world or give yourself to a goddess just to see him one last time.
Thorm looked at you for a moment before nodding, and nothing but relief filled you. You weren’t sure if your body could take another fight right at this moment. “You’re right,” he said, “I can be with her, but I apologize for what happens next. I can’t stop it.” You froze at his words. What did he mean by those words? Before you could continue to think, Thorm threw himself over the edge into the green abyss.
Astarion scoffed as he looked at the others. “So you’re telling me all we had to do was convince him that he could see his wife, and he would just end any and all fighting for us? Why didn’t we do that sooner?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Just as he spoke his words, a rumble vibrated around them. Astarion opened his mouth to say something when a large skeletal hand reached up and slammed itself down in front of you, causing you to stumble back to avoid being smashed.
Another rumble sounded, but this time it sounded more like a groan. “I am the haunt of mausoleums, the god of graves and age,” a loud booming voice grumbled as a large figure started to emerge where Thorm had thrown himself. “Of dust and dusk. I am Myrkul, and you have slain my Chosen.” Your eyes widened in recognition. The god of death. You were about to go head-to-head with a god, and part of you just wanted to drop then and there. With your injuries, you had no idea if you would survive this. “But it is no matter, for I am Death. And I am not the end–I am a beginning,” it finished.
Beside you, you heard a gasp from Astarion and the others. “What in the nine hells is that thing?” he asked as you began to back away. The large skeletal figure reached out his hand, and a large scythe flew into his grasp. Sweat began to collect at your brow as the stinging in your side grew. You could taste the bile starting to rise in your throat, and the loss of blood started to catch up with you.
You didn’t miss how Shadowheart looked at you; she knew you were in pain, but you were relieved that the others were oblivious. Biting back a groan, you stood taller, letting your eyes focus on the being before you. “That is a god,” you grumbled, listening to Astarion let out a string of colorful words. Before you had any time to react, Myrkul swung his weapon down towards you, the tip of it catching your leg, causing you to let out a pained yell.
You weren’t sure if it was your yell that set them off or the sudden attack, but as you caught your balance, spells and arrows began to fly through the air toward Myrkul. The moment Dame Aylin was free of her confines, she let out a roar as she aimed to take down the god in front of you. Your head was spinning, and you felt as if the world would go black, but you kept pushing, determined to help your friends. Missiles shot from you, landing their mark as Myrkul let out a screech, swinging his weapons towards everyone. The fight felt as if it went on for hours, years even, before the sight of Astarion and Karlach were thrown off the raised area in which you were standing.
The sight of the lack of movement from Astarion sent a blinding rage through you. A loud and violent scream tore through you as panic filled your very being. You swung your weapon, landing hit after hit on the God of Death. It wasn’t until there was a loud screech from the god that you realized that he had fallen. The sight of Thorm now lying a few feet away from you put you in another blind rage. Stomping towards him, he looked up at you helplessly, fear filling his eyes at the sight of you. He was terrified of dying by your hand, but you paid no mind to the thought. Letting out another scream, you sunk your dagger into him, only to pull it from him and repeat the motions over and over. “This is your fault,” you seethe over and over, the blood coating your face in the process. The feeling of hands on your shoulders and a large body dragging you away had you kicking and screaming as you thrashed in their grip. “No, I need to send him back to where he came from, he doesn’t deserve to see her.” You scream, your eyes focused on the body before you.
A hand cups the back of your head as you’re spun around in the individual’s arms where they press your face to their broad chest. “He’ll get what’s coming to him, but you need to breathe, calm down.” Halsin. His low voice works to calm you as he massages his fingers into the back of your head just above where the now loose knot of your hair sits. You begin to feel your body relax as every ounce of rage leaves you and sobs begin to rack your body. “It’ll be alright, go to him, see if he’s okay,” Halsin whispers, slowly letting you go. You back away and welcome his touch as he wipes his thumbs under your eyes, swiping away any tears you had. He looked at you like you were his daughter, and he worried just like any father would.
Nodding, your gaze falls on Astarion before you scramble over to him, falling to your knees. Grabbing his face in your hands, you caress his cold cheeks before shaking him. “Astarion, wake up,” you grumble, shaking him again. “Wake up, or I swear to the Nine Hells I’ll sell my soul to make Raphael bring you back just so I can kill you myself.” You whimpered, when there was no response you let your head fall to rest on his chest as you squeezed your eyes shut.
A hand moves and places itself on the back of your head before you feel his chest rattle with a cough. “Who knew you were such a romantic, Darling, threatening to take my life all over again.” Your body snaps up as he keeps his head on the back of your head before moving it to rest on your cheek, caressing the skin gently.
Smacking his chest, you let out a sniffle as your muscles and wounds scream in pain. “I thought you died,” you sob, looking away from him. His laugh sent a wave of relief through you as his hand took yours.
“I couldn’t leave you, not after threatening to have Raphael bring me back just so you can do the job yourself; that threat was more terrifying than the god we just faced.” He jokes, causing you to let out a breathless laugh as you lean into his touch. “I’m not going anywhere, my sweet, you’re stuck with me.” Nodding, you help him to his feet as you turn to the others.
“Let's get out of here; we deserve to celebrate, especially since we finally broke the shadow curse. A night of drinking and sleep sounds perfect right about now.” You say, watching as your group, no your family, smile and let out a loud yell of celebration with Dame Aylin as she leads the cheers. This was your family, and one you would fight thousands of gods for, even if it means losing yourself in the process.
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A/N: She was a long one, but I do hope you guys enjoyed it. I will be turning this into a small series as we get to explore the events that have taken place throughout thier adventure.
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echo-and-dust · 9 months ago
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now that my brain has somewhat unscrambled itself i have gotten most of my thoughts in order about season 3.
and the first thing i will say is: i loved it.
while it was gutwrenching and polarizing in some ways and i feel that i am entitled to financial compensation for what its done to my mental health, i loved this season for pretty much almost everything it did.
i cannot fault people for having issues with much of the characterization and plot choices made—that’s been the trend during the entire run of the show after all, and imo it’s a testament to the phenomenal way it generates nuance—but i wanted to share my feelings on the recurring opinions i’ve seen about some of these things.
first, i do not blame simon at all for the things he said in the final scene. he’s a child who has been receiving endless verbal and physical harassment on top of all the trauma he is still trying to heal from. he just watched his boyfriend lash out in anger and hurt—while not at him, but it must’ve been a close resemblance of how he might’ve seen micke act. at least, that's what i thought, though i've seen others say otherwise.
and yes, wille is not micke, but just because wille’s source of outbursts is different from micke’s doesn’t mean simon is wrong in drawing similarities. at least he's finally getting a true glimpse into what wille has had to deal with. i've honestly grown to like that they didn't have simon immediately comfort him though; wille's mental illness is not his fault, but it is his responsibility, and instead of pushing a message of unhealthy co-dependence, the show has simon be honest: "but i see that everything hurts you and that hurts me too." and to me, that's so important.
plus, it doesn't make their love any less genuine. wille is a victim of the circumstances; he is not evil, and he is not undeserving of simon. he just has a lot of growing and healing to do, a lot of unlearning and exposure therapy because he's still blinded by privilege even when he tries not to be.
speaking of, i have so many thoughts about wille that i feel like i need to save for its own separate post, but to sum them up: i'll still defend him with my life, and he needs to get the fuck away from that institution.
also, the fact that the responsibility of controlling simon's media decisions was placed solely on wille confused me at first like—why wouldn't they get a professional to give him proper media training?
then i realized, this could be the royal court's way of sabotaging their relationship. they knew that making wille the one to tell simon what he can and cannot say or post would create distance and animosity between them. despite the ramifications of simon's behavior on social media, it seems they still thought it best to have his boyfriend be the one to try to mold him into the system. because they knew that's how they could get rid of him. in conclusion, fuck the royal court (we been knew but still).
one of the standouts this season was their transparency regarding the show's politics. it not only works well with the show's arc (wilmon is public, everything's out in the open now and there's nothing to hide), but also it felt necessary at a time where censorship has been rapidly gaining momentum. it felt so refreshing for these characters to talk so openly about racial discrimination and queerphobia and class disparities, forcing both character and viewer to acknowledge that they exist and you should feel uncomfortable about it.
i don't think i can add much more to what was already said about it—most of the fandom is more eloquent and observant than i am anyway—i just wanted to reinforce how important this season is to myself and the story even with how controversial it is to fans right now. a lot of people may disagree with me and that's fine.
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fancyfeathers · 10 months ago
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Rain and Dirt (Yandere Rex Lapis/Zhongli x Goddesses!Reader)
Chapter Three, Ghosts of the Past
Sequel to The Moon Will Sing and Time Alone
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Summary: Stories are told of Rex Lapis the God of Contracts and his darling the Goddess of the Moonlight, but what people do not know is the truth of what their relationship really is. People think at Rex Lapis’s death that his wife would be the first to weep, but what if she is the first to smile.
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You began your journey to Jueyun Karst with Lumine and Paimon, acting as their guide. As you walked along the road that ran through the Guili Plains and into  Jueyun Karst you looked around at the sky above, it was starting to get dark as you were nearing the abode of the Adepti. You wondered what would have happened if you ended up coming here for the Rite instead of staying in the city, would they be made at you, violent even? No you shook that thought aside, they would never harm you even if your husband wasn’t there to protect you anymore.
No, no, no! You did not need him to protect you, have you forgotten you are a goddess? It is well within your power to protect yourself… but some nights when it gets cold, being held by someone helps. Or the pain of thousands of years gone by, sharing that burden with someone else… but he also gave you a burden-
“(Name), Are you alright? You seem to be drifting off?” The voice of Lumine’s floating companion grabbed your attention and you smiled and nodded in response with a small hum.
“I am alright, it is just….” Your eyes drifted up to the peaks out the mountains approaching in the sky, knowing what you are about to encounter. You sighed as your eyes fell back down to the path you walked on and the ground below. “It has been awhile since I have come here. It feels strange, especially given the circumstances.”
“You mean the death of the Geo Archon, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“You know, Paimon noticed that while most are in shock and crying over Rex Lapis’s death, you remain totally calm, why is that?” Paimon stepped in, poking you with a question.
“I….” The question made you stop in your tracks, why was it so easy for you not to cry? The answer should be easy, because of all the things he has done to you. But did you honestly know that answer? Did you hate him? “…don’t know…”
“Really?”
“Really, honestly for all the people’s praise of him I do not know if I can make myself follow him like they do.” You paused again before forcing a smile and changing the topic. “Well what brings you to Liyue? I doubt it is just the sights if you are willing to do all of this.”
“I’m… I’m looking for my brother. He was taken from me.”
At Lumine’s answer your heart ached for her for you knew her pain, what it is like to lose a sibling. You had no idea where your sister is today, thousands of years later. You can still remember the sound of her voice, the life in her eyes, the joy in her smile.
“I’m so sorry, I understand your pain but it still hurts, does it not?” A look of surprise came across Lumine’s face at your sympathy.
“You understand?”
“I do, a long time ago my sister set out to explore Teyvat and I did not go with her, I have not heard from her or about her since. I would be lying if I said I didn’t regret going with her, I think about it everyday.” You reached down and gave Lumine’s hand a squeeze. “After this I promise you I will help you find your brother, I have all the time in the world.”
“Thank you, that means so much.”
—————————
You were reaching the abode of Mooncarver and you knew that full well that he would call out your true nature on the spot so as you got closer you acted like you needed a break but urged Lumine and Paimon to go on ahead.
“Are you sure, (Name)?” Paimon questioned, to which you smiled and nodded.
“Yes, yes, I will find you both in a bit, I just need to rest my feet. I am afraid that I am not so used to walking such long distances.”
“Alright if you say so.”
You watched two walk off as you sat against a tree for a bit of shade so that you were covered from the sun’s heat. You ran your fingers through the grass and hummed, closing your eyes. You have been here before, not just in Jueyun Karst but this exact spot. When was the question? 
You closed your eyes to think and you must have fallen asleep because you felt a hand brushing the hair out of your face stirring you awake. You opened your eyes and seeing the person there made you gasp.
“Menogias?”
There was a laugh and nod from the Yaksha, one who you thought to be dead for so many centuries. “Hello my Lady.”
“Why- wait- how are you here?” You asked, springing to sit up. You pressed your back against the tree, sitting there next to your old friend, for lack of a better term.
“What do you mean, I am supposed to be with you today.” He sighs and shakes his head, his fingers coming to rub his temples. “My Lady, did you forget? Today your husband is off at a meeting with an Adeptus in Chenyu Vale. I was placed to guard you until his return.”
Ah yes, how could you have forgotten? Morax had even told you the night before. He would be gone all day and perhaps a bit of tomorrow as well. Really you must get better at remembering these things.
“Apologies, it just feels like my mind is off these days.” You say curling your legs inward towards your chest.
“Off? May I ask how so?”
“I do not know how exactly to describe it, almost as if I have been tricked into something.”
“My Lady, it’s best if you don’t dwell on these things for too long, it would be bad for your health.” Menogias answered swiftly, almost to cut off your idea. “Your husband would not be very pleased with that.”
Your husband…
Rex Lapis…
Morax…
Zhongli…
All the same person…
All caused the same suffering…
“Menogias, can I ask you something…”
There was no response…
“Menogias?”
Again, no response?”
“Menog-“
You were cut off by the scream that ripped from your throat as you turned your head to look at the Yaksha, only to see him dead. His skin almost looked shredded and he was bleeding profusely out of a wound in his stomach. 
You snapped awake, sweating and gasping for air from the dream. It was just a dream, but one that came from your memory to an extent. Menogias did watch over you some days when your husband was away, but so did the other Yaksha. Beyond that the rest of the dream weee just the ghosts of your past. Honestly out if all the Adepti, you hated Menogias the least, he was kind to you but still did nothing to dissuade your husband’s possessive tendencies.
As you rubbed your eyes in an attetonwak yourself up from that horrid nightmare you heard voices, shouting, and approaching you. Before you can even turn your head you are seized up by the forearms and find yourself face to face with soldiers of the Millelith.
“You are under arrest as a suspect in the assassination of Rex Lapis.”
Oh dear…
 —————————
You were dragged along by a Millelith soldier, deeper into Jueyun Karst to find Lumine and Paimon, the other suspects. You panicked as you got closer and closer to Moon Carver’s abode, and you tried excuses like you would rather be tamed back to the harbor so you could be proven innocent already,mor that you had no idea who they were talking about when the described Lumine and Paimon, but none of it worked. 
Then your heart sank the moment you turned on the path and your eyes laid on not only Lumine and Paimon, but the mighty and illuminated Adeptus, Moon Carver. His deer form was as proud and strong as ever and no doubt he retained that strength to carry that pride.
“It’s the assassin, they dare-“
The moment the soldier spoke and caught the attention of Moon Carver you knew all was over. The Adeptus’ eyes went from the soldier speaking, to the one who was dragging you along, then lastly to you. The moment you made eye contact with him, his eyes lit up in pure and untamed rage. He raised his front hooves up and stopped them on the ground, and the sound that echoed from it rang in your ears and even was enough to shake a few stones off of the mountain peaks.
“YOU DARE TOUCH HER!? YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO EVEN LAY YOUR EYES ON HER!”
The Millelith soldiers look back and forth at one another in pure confusion, meanwhile you just hang your head low and wait for this all to be over.
“Mighty Moon Carver we-“
“One does not care for your excuses, unhand her at once!” At the demand of the Adeptus the Millelith did not care to stay much longer after that. The grasp of your arm slipped away as the soldiers backed up away from Moon Carver and once they were far enough they turned on their heel and started running. You watched them run before turning to face Moon Carver and your eyes landed on the confused Lumine and Paimon as the Adeptus approached you. Slowly Moon Carver lowered his head before you in a bow before rising, his eyes meeting your own. “My Lady.”
“My Lady? What is this crazy deer on about, (Name)?” Paimon questioned, looking at you who were probably bright red in your embarrassment. Before Lumine can add something, Moon Carver gazed down at the floating Paimon, rage in his eye, not as much as with the soldiers, but still visible.
“You dare to call her by her name, you have no right-“
“Moon Carver!” You shouted, cutting the deer off. He looked almost ashamed for a moment at the sound of you raising your voice. “Please, I let them, they are my friends.”
“Very well.” He nodded towards you before facing Lumine and Paimon. “One humbly apologizes for such abrasiveness towards my Lady’s companions.”
“Lady? What’s going on?” Lumine asked, looking at you and you sighed.
“Really it is nothing important-“
“Nothing important?” Moon Carver scoffed at your statement, as if now he was scolding you. “Is being the bride of Rex Lapis not important? One thinks not.”
“Bride of- wait.” You watched as Paimon slowly clicked together the pieces in her head and she let out a loud and rather dramatic gasp when it clicked. “You’re the wife of the Geo Archon, you’re the goddess that Childe told us about. That’s why you knew so much about Liyue.”
“That is… true.” You sighed and stepped forward, not forcing a smile like you did before. Now you wore your true emotions, a face that suffered for thousands of years. “Allow me to properly introduce myself, while I still am (Name), I am the goddess of moonlight and rain and…” you felt yourself choke on your words for a moment, but you quickly swallowed the lump in your throat. “…and the wife of Rex Lapis, the Geo Archon.”
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jpmarvel90 · 1 year ago
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Proud
Masterlist Scarlett Masterlist
Relationship: Scarlett x Reader, Reader is Olsen sibling
Summary: After proposing to Scarlett Y/n can't wait to tell her sisters, even though they've been distant with her. However, an argument between the sisters could lead to their relationship being changed forever.
Word Count: 7728
Y/n's POV:
The moment that Scarlett agreed to marry me, became the happiest moment of my life. I had proposed on the roof top of our favourite restaurant. The moonlight was perfectly reflecting in her eyes as I asked the most important question I ever have. She responded with a yes before I even managed to finish the full question. She threw herself into my arms and hugged me tighter than ever, before landing the most loving kiss on my lips.
A lot of people think that I met Scarlett through my sister Lizzie, but they're wrong. You see, I'm not in the celebrity world like my sisters. I didn't have a talent like they did for acting or fashion. I knew that it wasn't the life for me. Instead I wanted to join the Army. I wanted to do something good with my life, something my family could be proud of.
Turns out my parents didn't agree. They didn't like the fact that I didn't want to follow in my older sisters' footsteps and before I knew it, I had basically been cut off from them. It broke my heart that they didn't want anything to do with me purely because of my career choice. My sisters stuck by me though. I was really close with Lizzie. I'm only a year younger than her and she's always stuck by me.
It was through my career that I met Scarlett. She attended one of the military balls and we shared a dance. The rest was history. It was a bit of a shock to my sister when I told her that I wanted to introduce her to my new girlfriend, and she was met with her co-worker. But after she got over the initial shock, she was really happy for us.
Scarlett and I's relationship developed quickly, which was a blessing as I was sent for a deployment after being together for only 6 months. It was really hard being away from her, but it only strengthened our relationship, and we were moving in together when I returned.
Everything was going perfectly. Which of course meant that something was bound to go wrong. It started off with the twins. I knew how busy they were with setting up their own clothing line. I was incredibly proud of everything that they had achieved. They both went through so much shit whilst they were growing up that they deserve to have this now.
Because of this, I wasn't surprised with how my time with them slowly started to reduce. Like I say, I was proud of them, and I'd be able to celebrate with them once they launched. That's easier said than done when I didn't get an invite. Even Scarlett got one and she was fuming. But I assured her I was ok with it. They knew I didn't like being in the public eye, so probably thought it was best I didn't go. Would have been nice to have had the choice though.
When things really started to get tough, was when Lizzie started to do the same. After Age of Ultron was released, her career skyrocketed and, as with the twins, our time together got less and less. Again, I couldn't have been more proud of her. She had worked so hard to get to where she was. To see that come to fruition for her was amazing.
I got used to getting the usual response of "Sorry we're busy" when I would ask if they wanted to meet for lunch or dinner to catch up. It was true, they had incredibly high paced jobs and it was difficult to fit into that. I found this hardest when I was up for deployments. I would try to arrange to see them before I'd leave, or whilst I was on R&R, but they never had the time to fit me in. Sometimes, I wondered if they even realised that I was in a warzone for months at a time.
Although I was finding my dwindling relationship with my sisters difficult, Scarlett was able to keep me afloat, and her family had become like my own. When I asked her parents if I could ask Scarlett to marry me, they were both so excited and insisted that I called them both mom and dad. "I know you don't have a relationship with your parents, but we want you to know that we see you as one of our own, and we can't think of anyone better to marry Scarlett." Her mom had told me.
I decided to propose to Scarlett after I got the news that I was due on another 6 month deployment. This would ultimately be my last deployment as I had decided to retire from the military. Scarlett and I not liking doing things in the traditional way, had already spoken about children. Both of us very aware that our biological clocks were ticking. After a long discussion, I decided that it was best that I retired and found a new, safer career which would enable me to carry our children. I couldn't have been more excited to start that next chapter of our lives.
The proposal happened a week before I was due to leave. I couldn't wait to tell my sisters that Scarlett had said yes. Due to us not being able to see each other much, they didn't even know that I was planning on proposing. But that didn't matter, I just wanted them to be a part of our wedding. We knew that people would notice the ring on Scarlett's finger sooner or later, so Scarlett had arranged an interview with Jimmy Kimmel to make the announcement. Not wanting that to be the first they heard of it, I made the decision to head down to the Row to tell my sisters.
I knew that Lizzie would be there too as they were working on their next line and had asked Lizzie to help with some of the designs. Scarlett had offered to drive me and wait in the car until I was done. I had made special save the dates specifically for them to ask if the twins would be my bridesmaids and Lizzie my maid of honour.
When we got to the building, I jumped out of the car and excitedly made my way into the building. Sarah, the twins' assistant, recognised me and welcomed me in, letting me know that the three of them were working in Ashley's office and that I could head on in. I made my way through the halls until I got to their offices, and I could see the three of them bent over a table looking at different swatches of material.
I knocked on the door and entered when MK responded. "Hey, how's the line going?" I ask as I entered. They barely looked at me and I even heard an audible sigh coming from Ashley. "We're really busy at the moment Y/n, couldn't you come back another day?" She asks, no patience in her voice. Well, coming back another day wasn't an option because I was leaving tomorrow, but I guess they forgot that. "I promise I won't be long, I just wanted to talk to you all quickly." I say, hoping they can give me at least 5 minutes.
When none of them response, I start to fiddle with the envelopes in my hand, suddenly feeling nervous. "Like Ash said, we really don't have time for you and whatever trivial thing you need to see us about." MK stated coldly without even looking up at me. "Oh. Right. Well, I'll just leave these..." I go to place the save the dates on the desk, but I stop when Ashley snaps at me. "For the love of God Y/n could you just leave?!"
My heart was in my throat when she yelled but I didn't have time to respond until MK joined in. "We are extremely busy right now and we have so much riding on this. You wouldn't have any idea about the risks we have to take." She berates me and I let out a scoff which seems to get their attention.
"I think I know a fair bit about risk." I chuckle to myself when I think about where I'm about to call home for the next six months. "Y/n, you're not in this life you don't understand. If you were a true Olsen, you'd get it." Lizzie's words feel like a burning dagger to my heart. "I guess mom and dad were right." I whisper, trying to fight the tears in my eyes. I won't let them see my cry.
None of them even realise what they said as their focus returns to the work in front of them. That or they really did know, and they meant it. Pulling myself together, I quickly make my way out of their office and down towards the lobby. "Y/n!" I stop when I hear Sarah call my name. "Before you go, I just wanted to wish you well on your deployment." She says with a smile. That breaks my heart even more that their assistant can remember but they can't. "T-thanks." I stutter, not wanting her to see that I'm upset. "Uh, do you have a bin? I need to throw these." I ask her, indicating to the now useless envelopes in my hand. "Sure. I'll take them and throw them for you. Stay safe out there Y/n. Your sisters would hate for something to happen to you." She says, trying to be nice. "Hmm sure. Anyway. Thanks Sarah." I smile and head out to where Scarlett is waiting for me.
As soon as the door slams, I burst into tears which panics Scarlett. She spends 15 minutes trying to calm me down. I just wanted to make them proud. What did I do to get the response that I just had? Have they felt like this for a while? When I finally have gathered myself, I fill her in on everything that happened. It takes a lot to convince her not to go up there and give them a piece of her mind. "They're not worth it Scarlett. I've been in denial for too long. They've outgrown me and I have to accept that they're not in my life anymore." I admit with a heavy heart. "It's their loss babe. You are the most incredible person, and I am so lucky to have you in my life. They don't deserve your kindness." She tells me, pulling me into a hug.
"God, I wish we were married already so I can get rid of this last name and be a part of your family." I sigh, leaning back against the head rest. "What's stopping us?" She says looking at me with the smile I love so much. "What now?" I raise an eyebrow at her. "Let's go and get married now. We can have a big party to celebrate when you are home. But I don't need that to marry you." She cups my face and wipes at my cheeks.
"But your parents will kill me if they're not there." I say, not wanting to be on the wrong side of them. "Then let's call them and get them to meet us at the registry office." She suggests as a smile grows on my face. "Really?" I ask, and she nods easily. "I would have married you the day I met you if I could. You are my entire world and I want nothing more than to call you my wife." She expresses. "Save some for the vows, my love. We have a wedding to get to!" I respond full of excitement.
On the way over, we call up her parents and they instantly agree to come with us. We rush home and change into some nicer clothes. Before we know it, we're driving to meet her parents so we can get married.
The ceremony is uneventful, other than the fact that Scarlett and I can't stop gushing about each other in our vows. But the moment that the clerk declares us wife and wife, my heart couldn't be fuller. I may have lost my sisters today, but I gained a family. One that loves me and supports me unconditionally, and that's all that I need.
We decided to go to a nice restaurant to celebrate our nuptials. It was the perfect way to spend my last evening before I deployed. We said goodbye to Scarlett's parents and then we spent the night together showing each other how much we truly love and adored each other. I didn't get much sleep, but I didn't care. I wanted to make the most of every moment that I had with my wife.
The next morning was really hard as I said goodbye to Scarlett. She came with me to the airfield to see me off. She has a great relationship with the partners of some of the others that I work with, and as we're boarding the plane, it comforts me to see them supporting each other as we head off to Afghanistan. I give her one last wave before I won't see her anymore. She blows me a kiss that I catch and put in my pocket, which makes her laugh. God, I can't wait to have a family with that woman.
Lizzie's POV:
Everything is so stressful at the moment. I had agreed to help MK and Ashley on their latest line, but I'm also starting work on Avengers: Infinity War. I'm so run off my feet, but I love that I'm being kept busy. It's what us Olsen's do best. I'm proud that I get to do this with my sisters. I can't wait to see what we have designed together on the runway.
Y/n caught us at the wrong time, and we lashed out a little. I can barely remember what I said, but we had to focus on getting the final designs signed off before the deadline at the end of the week. I'm sure we'll be able to find time for her at some point and apologise.
The next day we end up working late so we order food to the office. I switch on the TV for us to take a break and saw that Scarlett was due to be the guest on Jimmy Kimmel. I leave it on so we can hear everything that she's been getting up to. I don't see her very often anymore, which is a shame. She's one of my closest friends and my sister's girlfriend. She means a lot to me.
Sarah kindly brought our food in and left us to it just as Scarlett was coming onto the stage. She looked incredible, happier than I've seen her in a long time. She talks about her latest film, Rough Night, which looks like such a fun movie. I can't wait to go and see it. The conversation then moves on to her relationship with Y/n and if it's possible, I'm sure Scarlett's smile just got bigger. "So, I heard a rumour that a big question might have been asked." Jimmy asks, wiggling his eyebrows. All of our attention hyperfocused on the screen.
Scarlett blushes at the question as she nods and holds out her left hand. The camera pans in to show off a beautiful engagement ring. "Y/n proposed to me last week and I couldn't be happier." She shares, which earns cheers from the crowd. A picture then pops up of Y/n down on one knew on a roof top overlooking New York. My stomach drops and I look to the twins. "I can't believe that Y/n didn't tell us." MK says harshly. "We're her sisters for Christ's sake. It would have been nice to hear about it from her rather than with the rest of the world." Ashley adds on.
My own anger suddenly dissipates as I remember the day that Y/n came into the building to see us. Shit. She had something in her hands. I rush out, much to the twins' confusion, but they follow me as I search for Sarah. "Did Y/n leave anything when she was here the other day?" I ask, slightly out of breath. Sarah thinks for a moment and then rummages around in her draws. "She asked me to throw these out when she left. She looked quite upset. Something in me told me not to toss them in the trash." She says, holding out three envelopes towards me.
Seeing our names written on them, I hand them out to my sisters, and we slowly open them up. I let out a gasp when I see a save the day with 'Will you be my maid of honour?' Written below it. Tears start to fill my eyes as I remember how we so easily dismissed her that day. MK and Ash have a similar look to mine as they show me their own, which is asking them to be her bridesmaid. "We fucked up." I whisper, earning a nod from the others.
We quickly agree to go straight to hers and Scarlett's to make up for what we did. Damn, I wish I could remember what I said. I want to be sincere in my apology and I can't do that if I don't remember. We all pile into my car and drive across town to Y/n's townhouse. I practically run up the stairs to their front door and start banging. Scarlett opens the door to us and when she sees it's us, her face morphs to one of anger. "What are you doing here?" She snaps.
"We uh. Wanted to see Y/n. We need to see Y/n. Is she here?" I ask, trying to catch my breath. Scarlett's gaze drops and she shakes her head. "Could we come in and wait? When will she be back?" Ashley asks and Scarlett lets out a scary chuckle. "6 months." She almost spits at me. I look at her confused, as do my sisters. "Wait, what do you mean 6 mon..." Suddenly it hits me. She was being deployed. "She's gone already?" I ask but Scarlett clearly isn't in the mood for us.
She shakes her head in disbelief and goes to shut the door. But Ashley is quick to put her foot there, preventing it from closing. "Please..." She almost begs and Scarlett just laughs. "Please what? I had to sit in the car and help Y/n through a panic attack after she saw you. You completely broke her heart. I can't believe I would let her defend you!" She runs her hands through her hair exasperated. "She deserves so much more than you gave her these last couple of years. Can any of you even tell me the last time you saw Y/n before the day in your office?" She asks and my gaze instantly drops when I can't remember that last time, I saw my sister. "She knew you were busy, it's why she never pestered you. All she ever wanted was a lunch or dinner to catch up. She never knew what might happen whilst she was deployed, and she wanted to have a moment with the three of you just in case." With each thing Scarlett tells us, I feel the shame become almost overwhelming.
"She would always defend you and say it was ok. 'You were busy'. Not like she wasn't either, but she wanted to see you before she was sent to a warzone. But I forgot that a fashion line is more important than family." She says sarcastically. "That was all bad enough. But to tell her she wasn't truly an Olsen, purely because she chose a different career path to the three of you. That was unacceptable." As she speaks, I get a flashback of the words I viciously spoke to her that day and I feel physically sick.
None of us speak. Completely ashamed of our actions. "Y/n is the best person you can have in your life, and you've lost that. You don't deserve her. Now please leave." Before we can even argue, the door slams in our faces. I let the tears fall freely. Y/n has always been so kind and understanding. To know we've pushed her to the point that she's done with us, shows how far we've truly messed up.
We slowly walk back towards the car. All thoughts of the work we have to get finished gone from our minds. "We're just like mom and dad." MK observes and I nod in agreement. We never understood how they could disown Y/n like they did. She did what she thought was best for her. The three of us were so proud of her when she graduated from her Officer training. How did we get to where we are now? Did we really let our careers cloud what was really important? Our sister has become a casualty of our poor decisions and I don't think we can heal that rift.
Scarlett's POV:
Y/n has been gone for 4 months and it's been difficult. She calls when she can but it's just too long to be without the love of my life. I think it feels longer this time because we know that this is her final tour, then we get to start on the journey of creating our family together. We decided not to make it public that we got married. Instead, we'd let everyone know when Y/n got back and have a wedding party instead.
I'm currently working on the latest Avengers movie, and it's been difficult. My relationship with Lizzie is pretty much non-existent. She's tried since we're working together, but I just can't bring myself to have any sort of a relationship with someone that could hurt Y/n so much. Don't get me wrong, I was professional and never rude, but all of the social aspects stopped with her.
I found it difficult at times when she would constantly ask me about Y/n, how she was and if she was ok. In my mind she didn't deserve to know. She never cared when she was on her last deployment. The three of them just gradually started to forget about her. I'm not getting involved until Y/n comes home. If she decides to give them a second change then I'll support her. But until then, I'm sticking by my stance.
I did tell Y/n that they turned up at our doorstep, but the fact that they forgot she was being deployed seemed to just make things worst in her eyes. She didn't see it as them trying to make things right, more like trying to do damage control. They have a lot of work to do if they ever get any resemblance of a relationship with her back.
I'm on my lunch break, eating with the rest of the cast when my assistant Jenna rushes in, my phone in her hand. The look on her face makes my heart drop instantly. "You need to take this." She says quietly as I reach her, not wanting the others to hear. I reach out and take the phone from her. As I hear the voice on the other end of the line, I feel like my world is being torn apart. "Injured and critical." Were two of the only words that I could remember.
Jenna, being the amazing assistant she was, took over the phone call to get all of the information that I would need. "Ok Scarlett, I need you to look at me." She took my hands in hers to get me to focus my attention on her. "She's already in flight and due to land in New York within the hour. She will be taken to Presbyterian to be treated by the trauma team there. I'll call a car whilst you go and grab your things." She once again takes control of the situation and gives me the minimal tasks to do.
My mind is racing as fear fills my body. Without thinking, I run to my trailer and start to rush around collecting everything that I might need. I make sure to throw a bag together with spare clothes for the both of us as well as the essentials that I'm going to need for a prolonged hospital stay. Whilst I'm frantically packing my bag, trying to not fall into a full blown panic attack, my trailer door opens and Lizzie steps in. The last person that I really want to see now. "Scar, what's going on?" She questions me.
I can see by the look in her eye that she knows, but she's too scared of the truth. I don't really hear the question as I'm so focused on making sure I have Y/n's favourite hoody. "Scarlett." She says more forcefully this time, stepping in front of me. "Y/n is hurt." I whisper. I hear a gasp come from her, followed by tears streaming down her face. "How bad is it?" She questions and I let out a sigh. "It's bad Elizabeth. I'm going to meet her at the hospital now." I answer with no emotion, zipping up my bag and throwing it over my shoulder ready to leave. "I'm coming with you." She states confidently, but that dwindles as I stare at her.
"So now you care?" I scoff. I know that it's a low blow, but I don't think any of them understand the real damage they've caused. "I-I, I've always cared." She weakly defends as she plays with the skin around her fingers. I sigh, guilt washing over me. "Hurry up and get what you need. I'm leaving in 5." I order, not making eye contact with her. Before I have time to register her movement, she's already out of my door, running to her own trailer I'm assuming.
I'm walking towards the car park as she catches me up, a bag in her own hand. We get in the car and silence fills the air as we start on the hour long journey to get to the hospital. "I need to call the twins." She says to herself, grabbing out her phone. "Hi Sarah, I need to talk to my sisters." She greets. I can't hear the other side of the conversation, but whatever is said frustrates Lizzie. "I don't care what they said Sarah. You will take this phone to them now. It's an emergency." The anger is evident in her voice and the fact that she doesn't say anything else makes me think that the poor girl is facing the fire by taking the phone to the twins.
"Stop talking!" Lizzie shouts. It takes me by surprise, and I jump a little which causes her to turn to look at me and give me an apologetic look. "Y/n has been severely hurt. Scarlett and I are on the way to New York Presbyterian now. She needs us." It's all she says but the break in her voice is evident. There are some muffled voices on the other end of the line. "See you soon. I love you." Lizzie responds to it and hangs up. "They're going to meet us there." She tells me.
I'm shocked if I'm honest with you. They clearly were in a meeting or not wanting to be disturbed. Maybe they finally have their priorities right. I just wish it didn't come from Y/n being hurt. The rest of the journey is silent apart from our cries. At one point Lizzie reaches out to take my hand. I hate the comfort it brings me, but I need my best friend right now. I give it a squeeze back knowing that she needs the support too.
When we get to the hospital, an Army official is waiting for us and guides us up to the relevant ward. "If you'd both like to wait here, the doctor will be out shortly to give you an update. Is there anyone else you are expecting? I can wait for them as well." He updates us. "Yes, my sisters will be arriving shortly." Lizzie responds. "Ok ma'am. I will head back down and wait for them." He responds, giving us a nod of his head and then heading off back to the hospital entrance.
The waiting room almost feels claustrophobic as I pace the room, desperate for any news. "Lizzie! Scarlett!" I turn to see the twins rushing through the door, the tear tracks on their cheeks clear to see. They pull us both into a hug, which takes me by surprise. I'm still so mad at them in this moment. When they turn to talk to Lizzie, I make my way over to a seat, wanting to distance myself from them.
But I'm not sat for too long when the door opens and a doctor walks through. "Mrs Johansson?" He enquires looking between us. "That's me! How is she?" I say, rushing over to him. "She's currently in the OR. She suffered significant trauma to her body after being involved in an IED explosion." His words sit heavy in the air as I feel like the rug has been pulled from under me. "H-how bad?" I manage to breath out. I can see by the look in his eyes, it's not good.
"She has some superficial injuries such as lacerations from shrapnel injuries. She has three broken ribs as well as a compound fracture to her left ulna. On top of that she has some severe internal bleeding and damage to her kidneys and liver. The most concerning of her injuries is to her spinal column as a result of a fracture to her L1 vertebrae." As he lists off her injuries, I feel sick to my stomach. "Is she paralysed?" I ask the question almost too quietly for it to be heard.
He lets out a small sigh. "That's hard to tell at the moment. On initial investigation, the damage to the spinal cord seems to be bruising, but until they are able to get a proper look at it, we won't know for sure. Either way, she will require extensive physiotherapy." The silence is deafening. I can't believe that this is all happening. "Will she be ok?" Lizzie asks, her voice shaking. I look up to see her clinging to her sisters. "She's in critical condition. But we hope that this surgery will help to stabilise her. I will make sure that you are kept updated as we make our way through, but it will be some hours before she will be done." His words offer little comfort. But I thank him anyway.
As soon as he's left us alone, Lizzie rushes over to pull me into a hug. I hug back for a second before pulling away. "I need to call my parents." I say, grabbing my phone. I feel like I'm betraying Y/n in getting comfort from her sisters after everything that they've done.
My parents are devastated when I tell them what happened. My dad is currently out of state but is getting on the next flight he can. My mom has said she will be over as soon as she can after calling my siblings to let them know what has happened.
The wait is tortuous. Though it is made slightly more bearable when my mom arrives. She's surprised to see the Olsen sisters here, but she's polite and greets them. They're here now, that's what I need to remember. "If she doesn't make it, her last memory will be of us telling her we don't have time for her or see her as part of our family." Ashley speaks after hours of silence. "She's going to be fine, and we can work to make things up to her." Lizzie snaps back, not wanting to even think about the worst case scenario. For me, that's the only thing swirling around in my head at the moment. How can I live in a world without my wife?
"How did we get here? How did we forget she was being deployed? How did we become so self-absorbed that we let our little sister ever believe that we don't love her." The anguish in Mary-Kate's voice was hard to hear. But it shouldn't have taken this to happen for them to come to this realisation.
The three of them lament over all their wrong decisions and the times they blew Y/n off. Ashley even at one point got out her phone and broke down when she saw the one-sided requests to meet up followed by a short, 'I'm busy' or sometimes, no reply at all. "Fix it." I state loudly, which takes them all by surprise. "Yes, you fucked up. Y/n may not forgive you. But having Y/n in your life is the best gift you could get. If you are serious, you'll fix it." I say sternly. "We won't give up Scarlett. We're going to be the sisters that Y/n deserves." Lizzie speaks sincerely as the twins nod.
Another hour passes and mom leaves to go and collect dad from the airport. I feel alone without her here, but I don't get lost in thought for too long when two doctors come out to greet us, with tried but relieved looks on their faces. "How is she?" I rush out as I trip getting out of my chair in such a hurry. "She has come through surgery better than we expected. We have managed to repair the internal damage and stop the bleeding." They inform us with warm smiles.
I feel a small sense of relief, but I need to know one more thing. "What about her back?" I ask, scared to know the answer. Y/n's sisters look at the doctors expectantly, and it feels like hours before he actually responds. "There is some significant bruising to the spinal column. However, with physiotherapy, we do not expect it to be permanent." Now relief really does wash over me. I know there is still a long road to recovery, but she's going to be ok.
After providing us with some further information, they direct us to her room. "She should wake within the next hour or so." They speak quietly before leaving us to face the sight that is waiting for us behind the door. I feel like I'm holding my breath as my hand hovers over the door handle. From somewhere, I gain the confidence to push it down and open the door.
A small sob escapes my mouth when I see Y/n, battered and bruise, lying in the bed attached to all sorts of wires and tubes. I rush to her bedside and take her hand carefully in mine. "Oh, my sweet baby." I whisper as I place a kiss against her forehead. The others carefully enter, not sure if they're welcome, but I nod to show them they have a right to be here. Though if Y/n doesn't want them around when she wakes, I'll happily kick them out.
We sit and watch, waiting for her to wake. I keep her hand firmly in mine as I gently rub my hand through her hair. I know how much she loves it, and it helps me to feel calm myself. "Hmm, that f-feels g-good." My tired eyes shoot open when I hear the familiar raspy voice. "Y/n?! You're awake! Oh, thank God!" I lean down and place a chaste kiss against her lips, which causes her to smile. "I couldn't leave you." She mumbles as she struggles to stay awake. "It's ok my love. Sleep. I'll be here when you wake." I reassure her. She gives me a dopy smile and then instantly falls back into a state of unconsciousness.
The next time she wakes, she's a little more with it. The doctor comes in and checks her over, happy with how she's progressing. There are tears when she realises she can't feel her legs, but I can see the determination in her eyes to overcome it. I promise her that I'll be there every step of the way. She's stuck with me. I won't ever leave her.
Lizzie's POV:
I've never felt pain like it before. The complete fear that I would lose my sister, especially after everything that had happened. I couldn't bear the thought of Y/n dying whilst believing that I didn't love her with every fibre of my being. My sisters are everything to me and I somehow managed to isolate Y/n, just because she wasn't in my world.
I felt like an imposter in this room. Like we didn't deserve to be here. To be honest, we didn't after how we treated her. When she wakes, I can't help the teary smile that makes it way on to my face. I turn to my sisters, and we have a group hug, relieved that she seems to be ok. We don't make our presence known just yet, wanting to make sure she's doing ok. "Mom? Dad?" Y/n asks which takes us all by surprise. I look to my sisters who also look as dumfounded. "They're on their way. Mom has been here she just went to get dad." Scarlett responds and it's then I realise that she's not talking about our parents.
I'm glad she's not. They have treated her like shit. Although we're still in contact with them, our relationship certainly isn't the same for how they treated Y/n. Turns out we're not much better. "Your sisters have been here the whole time as well." Scarlett explains. Y/n struggles to lift her head but when she does, she makes eye contact with me. All I can do is smile. Thankfully, Mary-Kate has the confidence. "We know that you don't want us here, but we want to be. We don't need to talk now. What's important is your recovery, but please know that we are truly sorry. We can't take back what we said, but we will do everything in our power to fix it." She speaks trying to hide the pain in her voice, but it's evident for all to see.
Y/n doesn't really respond. She's still in a sleep state, but she doesn't kick us out, which is a good start. We stay in our seats, an unspoken promise that we're not leaving her.
Whilst we're sat there, I notice that it says Johansson on the patient board behind Y/n. I then remember that they kept calling Scarlett Mrs Johansson. I then look to Scarlett's hand, and I see a wedding band alongside her engagement ring. When did that happen? "Are you married?" I ask, taking myself by surprise. The twins look at me in shock too, then they turn their gaze to Y/n and Scarlett.
A wide smile appears on Y/n's face as she nods gently. "We are." She says as her eyes meet Scarlett's who's are already on her. "W-when?" I stutter, feeling heartbroken that we weren't there. "When I was told I wasn't a true Olsen." Y/n snaps, her eyes not leaving Scarlett, though I can see the pain in them. "I wanted Y/n to know she had a family that truly cared for her. I didn't need a big wedding. All that mattered was that I got to call her my wife." Scarlett answers with more detail.
There's that all too familiar guilt again. We hurt her so much that she didn't think she had a family anymore. How could we do that? "I'm happy for you both." I say, forcing a smile. Although it hurts more than words can show, I really am happy. They are the most perfect couple and knowing they have their happy ending, albeit with a bump or two in the road, makes me happy. "Thanks." Y/n gives me a tight lipped smile.
It's not long until Scarlett's parents arrive. The relief is evident on their faces when they see Y/n is awake. Watching their interactions is like watching the perfect happy family. Scarlett's parents treat Y/n like their own. She has always deserved a family that treat her like she should be. I just wish that it was us.
We all stayed in the room to keep Y/n company, taking it in turns to take a break for food, though Scarlett refused to leave until Y/n threatened to withdraw kisses. I love this soft side of Y/n. She's the most loving person and Scarlett is right. Y/n is the best gift to have in your life.
When the twins and I take a break, we sit in the cafeteria with our phones in front of us. We're all frantically adjusting our work so we can be around to help Y/n with her recovery. The twins have delayed the launch of their line. I know that it will mean the line is ultimately canned, but they do it without hesitation.
I adjust my work schedule so I can stay in New York. I know that filming on Infinity War will be affected as Scarlett won't be around for a little while. But I speak with Kevin Feige to get time off myself. It's time we got our priorities in order to put our family first. It's embarrassing that it's taken us this long and for this to happen for us to do it.
Y/n's POV:
Well, this wasn't how I saw my career ending in the Army. But I'm just grateful that, in time, I'll be back to full health and can start on the next chapter of my life with Scarlett. I certainly didn't want the first months of our married life together in the same country to be like this either, but Scarlett doesn't let me get caught up in that. She is constantly reminding me that she is all in and that she can't think of a better example of her love than being there to help me get better.
If I had it my way, I'd be in the gym already trying to get better, but I can't even think of physio until my internal injuries have healed, which is likely to be a month or two. Thankfully, the doctors have agreed that I can go home after being in the hospital for three weeks.
It's been a strange time. For the first few days, I wasn't really with it. The injuries and anaesthetic really messed with my head, and I didn't know whether I was coming or going. Add the pain on top of that. It was a rough first week. Further to that was the mental stress of having my sisters around. I really didn't know how I felt about that. On the one side, they're here and are saying all the right things. But on the other hand, would they have been had I not gotten hurt.
Thankfully, they didn't push to talk. Not in the beginning anyway. They knew I wasn't in the right mindset. I feel like if they had, I would have probably pushed them away. Scarlett has been great, listening to my endless ramblings on it when it's just the two of us. Ultimately, all that matters to me is that I have her in my life. I've gotten by with my sisters over the last two years. Do I need them in my life? What's to say that they won't start to distance themselves again and we're back to being at square one with a hell of a lot more hurt for me.
It's Lizzie that breaks first. I can tell that she hates the atmosphere that there is when they're here. I only talk to them if they ask a question and even then, it's a short response. Whilst eating lunch, Lizzie had enough and started to ramble an apology. "I know that we don't deserve it Y/n, but you have to know that we are truly sorry. There is no excuse for how we treated you, not only on that day, but also for the last two years. We let our work consume us and it made us become people we never wanted to be." I try to fight off the tears as I see the emotion in her face. The twins agree and add their own apologies and then I hear the words that floor me. Words that I had dreamt of hearing from them. "We are so incredibly proud of you."
That makes the tears fall and Scarlett is quick to engulf me in a hug. "Please just give us a chance to make it up to you and prove that we're going to change. For good." Lizzie pleads. I can't respond, but I give her a short nod. Although they have tried to hide it from me, I know that Mary-Kate and Ashley have stopped the autumn line. That will not only hit them financially, but also reputationally.
Lizzie has pushed back work on a Facebook series she was working on. Well, initially she stepped back from it, but they're so desperate to have her produce and star in it, they were happy to accommodate a change to filming to allow her to help me. Those two acts by the three of them alone are a big statement. They deserve a chance. "But..." I start, which seems to strike fear into them as their eyes go wide. "I'm telling you now. I don't have the energy to fight to be in your lives anymore. If you go back to how it was, that's it. We're done." I tell them honestly. Scarlett gives me a squeeze after I speak, knowing how hard that was for me.
My sisters all stand up and make their way towards the bed. Lizzie takes my good hand, whilst Mary-Kate and Ashley gently rest theirs on my busted left arm. "We promise you Y/n. We're never going to get to where we were. Yes, we'll get busy again, but we will always have time for you. And you may now be a Johansson, but you will always be an Olsen. The best of us." Lizzie expresses.
We're all crying at this point, including Scarlett, and I open my arm to hug each of them. We've got a long road to go before we're anywhere near having the relationship that we once had, but I know that we'll get there. 
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