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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 2 months ago

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Breathing Room Pt 2

Hi there! I love your Merlin fics. If you’re accepting prompts and the muse is so inclined, could we please get a follow up to Breathing Room where Leon returns the favor? – anon

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: none!

Pairings: leon/gwen, platonic or romantic you choose

Word Count: 1459

The first thing Leon realizes about Gwen is that she's…mellow.

Of course, she has her moments of exuberance, her voice getting a little bit louder, using her hands and her body language to express herself, and let's not get started on how expressive her face can be, but bursts of mock annoyance, played up for the purpose of taking pleasure in complaining, are not true anger. Even when she talks about the things that do make her genuinely angry, it is with collected and crisp words. Not anything more substantial than a few choice insults or complaints that land with the same precision as a well-placed arrow.

Just the same as he realizes he's never seen her cry. Her eyes have watered when she yawns, but never true tears. Despite the flippant way she calls herself overly emotional, a sensitive soul, any number of names that sound like they come from someone else's mouth, rarely has he seen her be truly upset.

He does worry.

She also knows things. She knows how to gentle her voice, look a little smaller, tread carefully in ways that one does not just simply know. She speaks about things with an almost unsettling degree of accuracy—of course, he knows them too, but he is a knight who has seen the horrors of battle and the cruelty of the high lords firsthand—and has an eloquence about them that borders on unfair at times.

They catch each other's eyes sometimes and they both settle in the uneasy comfort of someone else knowing.

Now, in most cases, the way you realize something like this is how they'll listen to all of your secrets, your woes, your problems, but never tell you a single thing about themselves. It's his preferred modus operandi; to let other people come to their own conclusions and tell him their own troubles at their leisure.

Not her.

There is a trick, it seems, a fine balancing act between confession and explanation. A different corm of dishonesty that cloaks itself as honesty. To be open about vulnerable topics is enough to put most off, satisfied that they've wrested some deep kernel of truth from its burial site. But that's not the same as being vulnerable. Pointing out where the pieces of armor fit together is not the same as having a soft spot exposed.

It's clever. Very clever. A way to work her way through difficult places by showing just a little throat.

He's not sure exactly what to make of it, really, and he knows it's not his place to make sense of it.

Doesn't stop him from worrying, though.

Of course, when it comes to a head, it's not in some small and private way. It blows up in the middle of a public meeting, held in the largest court room the castle has, and he regrets wanting to know more.

It's a simple misunderstanding. Or, rather, it should be a simple misunderstanding. But it's made so much worse when one: Gwen was not present for the initial conversation and two: the argument will not stop escalating into a screaming match that Uther Pendragon keeps making worse.

He watches Gwen recede, bit by bit, until all of a sudden he realizes she isn't in her body anymore.

He risks a glance at the fighters, but if he tries to help now, he's only going to draw more attention to it. Best to wait and get her away from this horrible fight rather than trying to do more in the open. Wary of the fact that she is still in the area of effect, he moves closer, just enough to put his body silently between her and the worst of it. He feigns the polite disinterest of most guards and knights in this situation, looking at his armor, his cape, checking to ensure he is still presentable, something that says I am not involved in this dispute, I am part of the room at large, as he constructs another barrier between her and them.

I see you, he says silently to her, I see this and I see you.

Waiting is its own type of agony as he holds himself there, waiting, waiting, waiting and watching her out of the corner of his eye as her body puppets itself through being present, being there. Being alive.

When the time comes and he can feel his heart about to pound out of his chest, he casually proposes they start carrying out the remainder of the duties that must be done before day's end, heading back to the castle proper. Uther grants them leave and it's a fight not to bundle her out of there, get her safe. As soon as they leave, he glances over and does his best to sink into friend, I'm here, I'm here for you, you're safe with me, I will not harm you. She needs time to come back to herself, he knows, but he's going to be there for her when she does.

He almost breaks in one of the lone corridors when she shuffles close enough to press herself against his side, waiting for one of the guard patrols to pass.

She moves away again when the marching recedes, walking serenely after him to one of the many storerooms holding the castle's records and logs as he closes the door behind them. He takes his cape from his shoulders, preparing it as he would a blanket as she sinks into a chair. With only a moment's hesitation, he drapes it carefully over her shoulders.

He sits next to her, turning their chairs to face each other, voice already softening and his arm opening. She takes one horribly uncertain breath before her eyes grow heavy.

"What do you need," he asks softly, "what can I do?"

She leans into him and he moves closer, letting her settle her weight against him completely as he slings an arm over the back of her chair. His nose turns into her hair, breathing in the scent of her, here, safe, unharmed, alright.

She doesn't cry loudly, no, he can hardly tell she crying at all if it weren't for the many nights he's spent reassuring the squires struggling with their new knighthoods, but his shoulder dampens slightly and her breathing won't stay steady. He leans a little into her, a silent I'm here, I've got you, it's alright, breathing steadily and slowly to warm the very top of her head.

After a while, her face tucks itself into the crook of his neck, breathing warming the bit of skin above his collar. He shifts his head to lie against her, cheek to crown.

"I'm right here," he murmurs, "what can I do for you?"

She shelters in the lea of him with a whispered just this, please, still easing back into herself. He holds still, holds her, until they both feel a little less raw.

"Stay with me," he offers when they can both move again, "just stay here and help for today. We have a perfectly good reason."

"They'll look for me."

"They know you are with me. I will not let them take you."

"…you don't mind?"

"No," he says firmly, "not at all. If it would help, stay. I could use your attention to detail."

"Mm. Depends on how legible the records are."

He chuckles. "I have the utmost faith in you, Gwen."

Both of them stay, reluctant to move. If anything, she leans into him more, her head tucking under his chin.

"If I could take you pain," he whispers, "I would. I am sorry you were trapped there for so long."

"…yeah."

And just that, just that one word is enough to tell him know she's won. She's won the fight back into her body, she's won the battle to stay herself, she's won the way against whatever caused her to flee her own self to begin with. If he could, he would celebrate it the way he does every good fight won, but it is not his place to do so.

Instead, he lets out a sigh of relief, closing his eyes to savor the warmth of her here, and he feels her do the same.

"…have you been to the market this morning?"

"Yes."

"You smell of the bakery's new delights. Are they any good?"

"Excellent. Cook will want the recipes."

"I would be happy to come with you."

"You would?"

"Of course," he says, and they both know it's about more than just escorting her to the market.

#dragonbabbles #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #fic

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samcatcher · 6 months ago

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When in London.

Chapter 7. Masterpost.

By the time I woke up after tossing and turning, it had already gone past 10. I assumed Jean never came, as I checked my phone to see no messages, or calls. I stayed still in the position I was in. Unmoving. I decided today was going to be another day where I bitterly settle in.

Defeated, I just closed my eyes. Then suddenly I felt a pair of arms pull me close and smell my hair, then kiss my head. The smell was familiar, like the smell of home, the smell of me. The hands were cold and something I was used to. I wasn't confused.

"You came." I whispered in French, relief in my voice.

I turned to his face, his familiar face. His big blue eyes and dark, clear skin looking back at me. A smile on his face. It was as if he never left me. Suddenly everything wasn't unfamiliar. Suddenly everything wasn't scary. Suddenly we were in it together again.

For the sake of my storytelling, I'll translate our conversation.

"I didn't think you would come." I said to him, furrowing my eyebrows and completely showing my known weakness to him. His expression changed.

-There's nothing I can excuse, I am sorry baby, sorry for the past few days.- He pressed his forehead against mine, and I slowly nodded. He closed his eyes and breathed into me again. I felt his stubble as he kissed my cheek over and over. The repetition made me giggle.

I just looked at him. That was all he needed. I brought my thoughts down to my eyes and my eyebrows and I changed my expression to how I felt. I widened my eyes and furrowed my eyebrows. I let out a sigh as I turned my head to the left. Then I curled my lips into a forgiving, warm smile. One he had seen before. Then, I reached my hand up to his face and kissed his lips. Moving my thoughts from my face to his. That's when he got everything I needed to say.

"I am happy to be in your arms, relieved." Jean expelled slowly and quietly, so I grasped the emotion and rawness. However, I already knew this by the way he cupped my chin and kissed me three times on the cheek earlier.

It was relieving for sure. A familiarity was in my arms after days of being in a place so unknown. He wasn't being forgiven that easily though. I wasn't the type of person to hold grudges or get upset often anymore, so the fact that he made me get stuck in a rut showed a lot about his true colors. Which I had never seen in the two years we were together. It was scary but something love made me forget. Seeing his face so close to mine and hearing his words made me forget. That's what it's like loving Jean. You just forget.

After a few seconds of embracing each other. Feeling eachother once again, I lifted my head and asked;

"Who let you in?"

"Amelia." He answered, confused.

"Who else would have let me in?" He asked following his answer, laughing.

From that I assumed that Danny and Sam weren't home. I felt a shred of relief, I didn't want Jean to be bombarded with two men as soon as he came here, I would rather have told him about them before he met them. I was planning on it. I was.

We stayed in bed for another hour and a half. brining us to 11:30. then came to the decision that we needed to get up and do something, he would only be here for the weekend, he was leaving late Sunday night.

We decided on going to a nice restaurant, then maybe taking a detour to a nice pub. I was very excited. Although my furniture was supposed to come today at 3 so we couldn't go out until later.

A couple of hours went by of us eating and talking. Jean and Amelia tried their best to communicate but it was kind of awkward with the language barrier. At around 2:30 Jean and I prepared to greet the van and haul in all of my stuff, we moved the suitcase into another room and I put my hair up and got changed. With a high five and a nod, we opened the door to the moving company.

"Lyla Darius?" The man at the door said, standing with a clipboard and a high-vis jacket.

I nodded and looked out to the van.

"We can 'elp ya bring it all in for twenty quid more, or we can leave the van 'ere for an 'our and come back when you're all done, love." He turned around to look in the van, a colleague stepped out and started walking towards us, although he was on the phone.

This man had a higher pitched voice, but still the same cockney accent. "Darlin' I looked in the van and there ain't that much stuff in there, so uh, I think we could bring it down to 15 quid, for a beautiful girl like you." The colleague said and looked me up and down.

"I think that would be really helpful, let me just check if I've got 15 pounds cash." My wallet was in my coat beside the door. Low and behold I had 30 pounds in there, so I gave them all of it.

"Cheers. Won't ask ya for a cuppa now." He chuckled and smiled big, revealing a gold tooth.

"START LOADIN' IT IN DARREN!" He shouted at his colleague, who shot a thumbs up and started pulling the first box out of the van.

"What should I do?" I said to him, and he just shook his head.

"Sit down and relax, that's what ya gonna do! We'll sort this out for ya sweet'art. Don't worry yaself." He nodded and started stumbling down to the van.

I did what he said and went upstairs, I decided to make the men a cup of tea anyway. My friend from London said you always have to, no matter what.

I was lost in thought, making the tea for the moving men, scared that I wasn't doing it quite right, I had never made tea for two cockney men before. I was pulled out of my concentration when I heard Sam coming through the front door, so I started making my way down there.

Sam was standing at the door, his hair in a bun and a pair of shorts on. He had a white band tee that was cut into a tank top, and a pair of thin, cheap flip flops.

"Do you need any help with this?" Sam asked, bluntly.

"No thanks, they're doing it all for me actually" I laughed.

He nodded and walked into the living room.

I went back upstairs to see Jean directing the men where to put things in my room. Seeing all of the boxes seemed to be making him emotional, so he looked at me with a half smile.

I went behind him and pulled him into an embrace, as my cheek rested against his back, he held my hands with his for a moment. He nodded finally, and I let go, moving myself out of the way as the movers were heaving my beautiful vintage dresser into my room.

-Just a couple more boxes now love, and thanks for the cuppa.- Jean must have finished off the tea I was making before I got distracted by Sam coming.

I watched with a smile as the moving men dropped off the last few of my boxes. I thanked them, and they left. Before I went upstairs I checked on Sam, he was fast asleep in the sofa bed he still hadn't put away since the first night. I laughed and shut the living room door, to not disturb his peace and to not reek havoc on Jean. Everything was going so nice.

My excitement continued to build as I walked into my room. I had waited so long for all of my beautiful things to come, and I couldn't wait to show Sam everything compared to the walls he painted for me.

The first thing I did was move some of the boxes into the kitchen momentarily, to focus on the larger appendages in my room. Jean helped heave the boxes around the kitchen while I stood and tried to figure out the perfect orientation.

I moved the double bed underneath the window with the view of the beautiful garden, it came out from the window and the end of my bed was dead center in the middle of the room. I had a small ottoman which I placed at the end of my bed.

I moved the dresser against the wall which held the balcony door, and placed a mirror on top of it. There was one empty wall west to my bedroom door, there I decided to hang my big beautiful painting I had bought in Michigan when I was sixteen. It was the bodice of a woman in a bathtub, facing away from the looker, she had her hair in a bun, she looked a little like Sam.

Finally, from the west wall to my bed there was about 3 feet of space. I put my bedside table there next to my bed and a bohemian style rug, creating a kind of viewing area for my painting.

I called in Jean for his opinion, and he suggested we move the ottoman underneath the painting so we can put candles there to light the painting in the dark. I loved his idea so I did it, and I placed all of the candles I had brought on the ottoman.

It didn't feel like my room until I opened the boxes containing my plants. Sam was right, they contrasted perfectly with the peachy shade of my walls. I scattered them all over the place.

I unpacked the final boxes of small decorations, lamps, and clothes, then I collapsed on my bed after about an hour of hard work. Jean walked in from smoking on the balcony and a toothy smile formed on his face. He looked around at everything and then finally looked at me. He just nodded, but it was his 'its perfect' nod.

I was still leaning on the bed, staring at everything. Jean walked fully into my room and closed the door behind him. We both smiled.

He immediately climbed onto my bed, kissing me softly yet for a long time, emotionally. He did anything but use his words. He moved his hand from my face down to my waist, down to the back of my thigh. Then he stopped kissing my lips and moved to my neck, licking and sucking a sweet spot on my collar bone he had identified months before. I arched slightly and a small whimper escaped me. He moved his hand now from my thigh to up my dress, giving me chills as his cold hand reached all of the sensitive parts of my body he knew so well.

His other hand was supporting his weight over me, yet suddenly it scooped under me and pulled me over, switching me to be on top of his large body. I arched my back as I moved my face to his, kissing his lips as he moved his hands over my ass softly, he then grasped one cheek hard, which made me whimper again. He tasted like smoke, he tasted like France.

He sat up while I was still on him, making us form a cradling position. He had both hands on my ass, but suddenly moved one up to the back of my neck, he slowly applied pressure and created a small choking sensation which he knew I loved. He continued kissing me, it went from tender to sloppy, he was getting impatient. He pulled down the top of my summer dress which revealed me, I had no bra which he smiled at, then he began licking and sucking on my nipples, just the way I liked. I was growing impatient too. So just as I was about to shift my weight to allow him to reveal himself, there was a knock on the door which made me stop in my tracks.

Jean was getting impatient so he just rolled his eyes and tried to resume where we were going, but the door opened, without any confirmation of entering.

My back was towards the door, but judging by the silence, and a very confused Jean, I know who had opened it. I quickly pulled up my sundress without looking back. After a few seconds of all three of us frozen completely, Sam just closed the door, swearing something under his breath.

Jean looked at me, confusion still plastered all over his face. Then there was me, desperately trying to play it cool. I climbed off of him and sat next to him in the bed, his eys still holding the same expression. I'll translate the converstation.

"Who the fucks that?" Jean simply questioned, I could see his tongue moving along his cheek.

"That's um, he..." Jean cut me off.

"And why is he coming into your room unannounced in nothing but his shorts and a guitar?" Jean added.

My stomach dropped. I couldn't find anything to say. I stammered over my words trying to find an excuse, a reason, a lie? It was too late though, Jean was already standing up and getting his cigarettes. He was going to go missing. He did that all the time when he wanted attention. He liked it when people went looking for him.

He left the room and a couple seconds later I heard the front door slam closed. I didn't know where he was going to go but I knew soon I'd have to call and text. Then eventually go out there in my sundress and slippers and look for him. He won't have gone far.

But for now I sat on the bed with my knees up, bummed. Then I heard a knock again.

"come in." I said. Monotone.

Sam came in cautiously.

"I'm so sorry Lyla, I should have waited for confirmation to come in. I promise I'll be more careful next time." Sam said, worry filled him. His eyes were filled with shock and he was playing with a strand of his hair.

"It's fine sam." I said with a laugh. "you didn't see anything too gory anyway."

"Who's that guy?" Sam said, still with caution in his voice. Slightly stuttering.

I just stared for a while. Something inside me didn't want Sam to know that Jean was my boyfriend. Something told me that it was going to go wrong.

"That's Jean." I said with a smile.

"He an old friend?" Sam asked, he was not making it easy for me.

I laughed awkwardly.

"He's my boyfriend."

As I said that Sam's eyes darted up at me, filled with shock. Then they traveled down to the floor, and his hand moved to his lip. I didn't ask if he was okay, I knew he wasn't.

"Oh, that's cool." Sam said, still staring at the floor.

"He's a cunt most of the time." I said, tilting my head to the side and playfully smiling.

Sam just laughed a little and got up, he shot me a small wave then made his way out of the room.

Jean didn't come back that night until 11pm. I called, no answer. I texted, no answer. I went out there, no answer. I was shocked by the absolute immaturity, so naturally, I ignored him all night.

At around 3 in the morning I heard the front door open. Jean was sound asleep beside me so I decided to climb out of bed and see who it was.

I crept down the corridor in Jean's shirt and my slippers. It was very dark but suddenly I heard the living room light switch. I crept down the stairs and entered the living room slowly. Before my eyes was Sam, stumbling onto the sofa bed. He looked very disoriented.

"Sam?" I whispered.

"Well... look who it is." He stammered and scoffed.

I walked further into the living room to see him struggling to find something to crash in, I went into his suitcase and found a pair of boxers and a shirt. He snatched it off of me. Denying my help even though he was completely incapacitated.

"Come on dude, why are you so drunk?" I asked. "Angry drunk." I added.

He looked at me with disgust.

"Lyla. The girl. The girl that I've been looking for since I was in my teenagers years. She's married with kids." He said slurring his words.

I laughed. "Must be a different Lyla. I don't have kids. And just between you and me... if Jean proposed I would say no." I whispered in a slight spat, trying to calm the situation and make a joke out of it.

"What do you find funnier Lyla? The fact that you never told me about him after letting me get in bed with you. Meet my brothers. Play you my songs. Or the fact that you're still fucking him when such a better man for you is standing right here? I'd be open to fucking you even if he was in the house. He looks like a jerk." He started walking towards me with his arms stretched out. Then stopped and plopped himself on the sofa. (Danny was on the bed tonight.)

"And I'd be glad if he caught us." He added. Making himself laugh and staring at the ceiling.

"Sam, I don't know why you're upset." I said, lying. I knew exactly why.

"What makes you think I'm upset?" He said, knowing he was upset.

"Who randomly gets drunk on their own if they're not upset about something. This drunk too" I rebutted. Sam didn't reply.

We stared at each other for a few moments, then Sam looked away and shook his head.

"From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I would never let you get away. But look, I'm too late. I don't even want to know how late I am." He stayed shaking his head as he vented.

"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever met Lyla. The face I would never forget. You have been in my dreams for 7 years and now you've just embarrassed me. Fuck you." He continued. I stood there dumbfounded.

"How have I embarrassed you? Was I supposed to live my life waiting for you? Like a knight in shining armor? Don't be pathetic Sam, it's your fault you want me so bad. Get over yourself. For your information because I know you definitely do want to know. It's two years. You're two years late."

As soon as the words escaped my mouth I felt bad. But I'm never going to allow someone to accuse me of something like embarrassing them, especially when they have only embarrassed themselves.

He stared at me for a few moments more, still shaking his head.

"I didn't want it to be like this Lyla. It wasn't supposed to go like this." Sam shouted, making Danny open his eyes.

"I didn't want it to be like this either." I said, staring at Danny's half asleep expression to avoid Sam's eyes.

"I didn't want it to be anything." I said, lying.

"So what's funnier Lyla?" Sam asked again.

I stormed back upstairs and got into bed. Both men were angry with me. I was normally a person that would stand up for themself, but I was just so tired.

Jean stirred beside me, I gave into his arms outstretched to grab me. I figured that Jean was my main priority right now. Sam was just some boy who liked me, me and Jean were serious.

chapter 8.

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yuseirra · 4 months ago

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Hii. Ive read you Aqukana analysis, its very good but i think you are missing the fact that you dont have to be an idol to be someones oshi. Gorou was sarina oshi and he wasnt an idol.

Hi anon! You're referring to this particular ask I answered here, right?

Good point, before I begin answering, I really would like to tell you all I really have a hard time arguing/debating/disagreeing with others, it's something I feel so nervous about, so um, whereas I enjoy talking and theorizing, imagining away... I don't really enjoy having to prove my point or to further explain how I feel the way I think, or discuss things that I'm not so prepared for. It's very selfish of me to be this way, right? But is is how I am... It's why I usually would refrain from talking so much because I hate disagreeing with people or having to explain myself...but I guess this fandom has things that initiate me to talk through those emotional barriers I have.

For this though!/// I can provide an even more detailed answer. Earlier in that ask, I wrote that Kana trying to be Aqua's "favorite idol" is actually what keeps her from becoming his lover.

This doesn't literally mean "idol" as a job. That's why I put a "" there! The word here is "oshi", right? and I think that's something very similar to being someone's stan? Someone you look up to, their favorite person... but you don't usually date someone you "stan", I believe. They're someone who you watch from afar and cheer for.

The idea of "oshi", the way I interpret it, does include the idea of "idolizing" and "fantasizing" about the other party. That makes you drift a bit further from actually having an understanding of said person, as you see them more as a figure you look up to, rather than someone you have an equal standing with. Sarina-Ruby says Sensei(Gorou) is her Oshi later on when Aqua gets pretty depressed, right? I forget which chapter exactly, but that's where I sort of figured that okay, that whole idea of her loving Aqua was resolved. She doesn't need to have Aqua as a lover(^^;;;;)in order to be happy. If he's happy, she would be too. Kind of like how watching your favorite idol from afar could bring you a smile. So AquaRuby won't happen, I believe. Not only that the idea of them being siblings would get in the way... that plot point was already sort of resolved the moment Ruby stated that Gorou is her oshi. Having him as an oshi is enough for Ruby.(thank goodness)

Kana is trying to become Aqua's "favorite idol" or "oshi" through being an idol. So the two are interconnected in her case. She dreams of Aqua looking only her with her glow stick and that's her idea of being his "oshi", but I feel like.. even if she becomes one last moment in her graduation concert, she'll step down from being an idol, right? She'll be back to being a "person" because her being an idol is what's made her his "oshi". And being a "person", a girl Aqua always had this romantic interest for, would be more ideal for her to actually achieve her desires of becoming his romantic partner. Kana has to choose between becoming Aqua's "oshi" or his date, and the fact that the plot made her wish to quit being an idol makes me think that they intend for the latter.

Hope this answers your question!

#aqukana #aquakana #oshi no ko #oshi no ko spoilers #spoilers #asknreply #oshi no theories

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psychewritesbs · 2 years ago

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Right.

So... apparently there’s fans who believe that Athrun loved Lacus and that is why the memes about Kira stealing girlfriends exist. But I must admit I never got the impression that Athrun ever saw his engagement to Lacus as anything more than a political alliance that was in everybody’s best interest.

And watching GS again I have to say I am doubling down on my headcanon because... well...

Their dynamic is so...

Basically Athrun is so not emotionally available to Lacus... like at all.

It’s so Scorpio of him to put up emotional barriers any time she tries to get close. Like in the screencap above where he actually refuses her touch and walks away from her.

And I get the sense that in the early episodes of GS Athrun didn’t understand what it meant for him to want to open up to someone and to actually want to be present in a dynamic with someone.

His dynamic with Lacus was something that was an expectation set by others after all. So there’s an element of forced interaction between the two of them.

Yes, there’s all the haros he’s given her, so there is definitely a sense of Athrun expressing something about his inner self through the creation of objects that he then gives her.

It’s just that given the current state of their interactions early on in GS + the fact that their engagement is very likely the result of a desirable political alliance because of their respective fathers, there’s an element of “doing what a good fiancé would do.”

I’ll not deny that he very likely cares for Lacus. I think it’s completely undeniable actually--the haros being evidence of it.

It’s just that in a situation such as theirs where they are initially forced to interact with one another because they are to be married someday, I imagine both Athrun and Lacus came into this engagement thinking “ok this is who I am supposed to marry” instead of “ok this is who I want to marry.”

And so the basis for their dynamic is this forced interaction that they both have to make work because other people have told them it needs to work. Both Athrun and Lacus then brought their own personalities into the dynamic in an attempt to meet this external expectation.

I also have to say that as a fellow water sign, I can’t imagine that Athrun found it satisfying to not feel an emotional resonance to Lacus. I say that because if he felt that emotional resonance, his attitude towards her would be different.

Instead, he appears to be annoyed by her...

Hell, he didn't even seem to want to go on a rescue mission to find her when she disappeared and was picked up by the Archangel.

And even if the marriage wasn’t arranged by their parents (I don’t remember honestly) and Athrun and Lacus are childhood friends and he proposed to her...

He’s kind of a cranky and mean fiancé to her if I’m honest...

I love Athrun but that was a dick thing to say, Lacus was worried about him and he turns his back on her and gives her a nasty answer.

It doesn’t surprise me that Lacus ended with Kira because, unlike Athrun, Kira was able to meet her emotionally where she was at.

So I think that’s why later on in the story Athrun says that Lacus is his ex-fiancé because he was an idiot. He simply had not realized what he wanted because he was doing what was expected of him.

Living to fulfill other’s expectations without looking into one’s heart is always a recipe for disaster and unhappiness.

I think this is my third time watching GS (I swear just how I only read Soul Eater for Soul and Maka, I only watch GS for Athrun and for asucaga) and it’s really cool to be able to discern Athrun’s character arc at its early stages because part of his growth revolves around overcoming his daddy issues so that he can open up emotionally.

Ah, of course, I have to say that this ramble is inspired and influenced by this fantastic analysis that I found on the topic by someone else who agrees that Athrun cared for Lacus but didn’t love her in the romantic sense.

I have to admit that seeing how Athrun behaves with Lacus and comparing that to how he behaves with Cagalli is a dead giveaway of the state of his relationship with Lacus.

Anyways.

Is there anyone out there in this fandom that still nerds out about this stuff?!!!!!!!!!

#athrun zala #gundam seed #that's it #I'm a mega nerd #writing essays to justify my otp by nitpicking at tiny little details

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the-trickster-exe · 1 year ago

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Like Crying Out In An Empty Room, With No One There Except The Moon. || Whumptober: Day 3

Fandom/Characters: Moon Knight. Steven Grant, Layla El-Faouly, Wendy Spector

Summary: Steven is usually the one to help calm the others down when they get nightmares, so when he suddenly starts to get them he hides it and pulls away. Turns out he can only hide them for so long before their technically-still-wife, Layla, witnesses the aftermath first hand.

Warnings: Child abuse (Verbal & Emotional/Psychological), Death Threats (Wendy making threats to/makes a show of pretending to crash the car they’re both in).

Word Count: 3838

A/N: Jake and Marc have suffered so far, it’s only fitting that it’s now Steven’s turn. I am so sorry-

AO3:

One thing that wasn’t a common occurrence for Steven was nightmares. Sure, he’d had his fair share of waking up in a cold sweat after the classic fear-fests that were: continuously falling only to wake up just as you hit the ground, being chased by some unknown creature, watching as his teeth fell out into the sink. The usual. But they’d never been like this. Not in a long time.

As a child he’d just assumed that they were just normal nightmares for kids to have; his mum screaming at him, his dad ignoring it like it wasn’t happening right in front of him. Just a classic childhood fear of rejection. That was until everything went to shit and he started bleeding into Marc’s life, and vice versa. Then Jake came along to spice things up just a little bit further and suddenly the weakened amnesia barriers meant other things started to seep through the cracks of the walls separating them all. Like the trauma that had caused their disorder in the first place, for example.

In the context of nightmares, Steven was the one who often ended up waking up into the tail end of them. He never really knew the content of them, just the feeling of Marc’s panic and fear as the man retreated into the headspace to recuperate. Hell, he’d even unknowingly stepped in for Jake a few times, dealt with the man’s insistence that he could handle it perfectly fine on his own and didn’t need any help. Though he’d loathe to admit it, he was reluctantly thankful towards the Brit for giving him a break and taking care of them in a way that he struggled.

It’s not like they could control when it happens, so when it did it was pretty easy for Steven to slip into the familiar role of comforting and self-soothing. He’d usually put on a nice little documentary and just ramble to himself out loud to remind them that they’re not alone in this fight.

Which was probably why it became such a shit show when Steven was the one to start having the nightmares. Something that became even worse when he realised that his other headmates were completely unaware of it.

For ages he’d been trying to take more responsibility in the system. He knew that Marc and Jake wanted to try and ‘protect him’ or look after him, despite knowing he could take care of himself. He understood the logic, he’d known the least and like Marc had said in that moment of emotion when they’d died (temporarily): That was the whole point of him. And that’s what it boiled down to, which pissed him off to no end sometimes. So he saw this new occurrence as just that, taking more responsibility in the system. Marc and Jake already had enough to deal with, having a couple nightmares was the least of his worries. Or that’s what he told himself at the start.

He didn’t want to be obvious with his avoidance, didn’t want to clue anyone in on his growing isolation. He honestly didn’t even realise it until Layla questioned him on if something was wrong, asked why he seemed like he was distant as of late. Sure he’d sent her less messages and hardly spoken to anyone that wasn’t the system or their technically-still-wife, sure he’d been less willing to meet up with her or do the stuff he usually enjoyed. So what if he suddenly started to lose the spark he carried when talking about his special interests, or was less likely to engage with system related business?

It didn’t matter that he’d been struggling to get the body into bed for sleep more and more as of late. He was sure Jake and Marc were actually glad that he’d started to pull back from complaining about their late night escapades, or whatever they got up to when he wasn’t out and about. It didn’t matter, because he was doing fine. He was functional and no one would ever find out what was going on. They’d never know about the panic attacks or the late-night breakdowns or the times where he’d had to make a mad sprint to the bathroom or kitchen sink to avoid heaving up stomach acid onto the bed after being startled awake. They’d be none the wiser to it because he was Steven, and Steven was the one alter in the system that was least affected by their CPTSD symptoms. He was the normal one, and he was doing just fine.

Layla had been out of the country for some time, barely having time to call or text between her escapades with antiquities dealing. It was understandable and Steven was almost glad that she wouldn’t be distracted from any possible dangers just because she tried to send them a quick text. But she was finally back and staying over at their flat to catch up on some much needed rest and grab her bearings, spending a week readjusting to the change in timezone. And Steven was glad, truly he was. As much as he’d been withdrawing, he did miss her dearly and was thrilled that she’d be around for a bit longer. His main concern was now that she was living with them, albeit temporarily, there was a very real possibility that his little nightmare issue would be discovered.

So far, they’d made it through most of the week smooth sailing, Layla and his headmates none the wiser. It was almost like she was some kind of nightmare protection warding charm, her presence automatically causing them to retreat somewhat. Either that or he was still very much having nightmares, he just didn’t remember them. Which would probably explain the heaviness in his chest and the pit in his stomach every time he woke up. He’d been trying to put off sleeping for as long as possible. Worst comes to worst he could simply use his neurodivergence to his advantage and excuse his behaviour as fixating on a particularly interesting piece of text surrounding egyptology. It’s not like he didn’t know plenty of sources to quote and play off as only having recently learned them.

They’d hit the five day mark of cohabiting before Steven’s facade came crashing down. It was late in the evening when Layla suggested watching something on the tele, wanting to just relax and wind down for the night with the Brit. Not thinking anything out of the ordinary, he readily agreed. Why wouldn’t he? He loved spending time with her. They spent a few minutes channel surfing before they flicked onto ‘The Mummy’. Instantly their interest peaked, a shared delight in poking fun at the inaccuracies of their shared field of interest.

They spent their time exchanging comments, briefly making a competition out of who could notice the mistakes first, and after a while it faded into simply watching the film settled into a comfortable silence. A newly bought and extremely soft blanket lay spread across the pair as they leaned against one another, enjoying the others company and warmth. The TV hummed ever so slightly, not something many people would be able to pick up on, but Steven simply allowed it to fade into the background underneath the audio of the film. Subconsciously, he leaned further into Layla’s side, his head feeling rather heavy as he gently rested it onto her shoulder. He heard her quietly huff an amused yet affectionate laugh at the action but paid it no mind, too busy relaxing into the safety her presence provided them. The safety it provided him. He felt the blanket move upwards over him just a bit higher as his eyes fluttered shut, unaware he was even falling asleep.

He was in the car, his mum sat in the driver's seat, coming back from a shopping trip or something. Just the two of them spending some time out together, like every other regular parent and child. They were driving back to the house, just sitting in regular silence. He didn’t know why he knew all of this, or how. He just did. Quietly, he watched the scenery change as they drove down the familiar roads. It was an odd time of the day, barely any cars on the road. But that was fine because it just meant they’d be home quicker and avoid all the traffic.

He didn’t know when the atmosphere changed, the hostility that suddenly spread throughout the vehicle. It was an instant change and all of a sudden Steven became incredibly aware of the enclosed close proximity that they were both sat in. He manually pushed down the tension that he felt creeping up his limbs, not wanting to appear as though anything was wrong between the two of them. Deciding to feign ignorance to whatever events would unfold in the very near future.

It started with his mum muttering under her breath. An incoherent jumble of words that strung together to form an even more intelligible set of sentences. It was as her tone began to grow more hostile and dangerous that he suddenly became extremely aware of every single one of his fuck ups throughout the day. Accidentally pushing the shopping trolley into the back of her when she’d stopped suddenly in the aisle, the thing too heavy for his arms to pull and stop it in time. Walking down the pavement behind her and stepping on the heels of her shoes, not realising how close she’d actually been. He did that thing she hated, staring down and watching his feet when he walked. All those little things and more as his brain started to gradually build up the panic and release the steady stream of adrenaline that was screaming for him to get away. But he couldn’t.

The words became more coherent, her voice climbing in volume as she ranted faster and faster, her words cutting deep into his brain and bouncing around in the space. His eyes flickering to her tightening grip on the steering wheel, her knuckles whitening at the force. Somehow the scenery had started to speed up, the trees now blurring more and more as the arrow on dashboard pointed to steadily increasing numbers. His mum was fucking furious and he only had himself to blame. As tense as he was, he still tried to not react, not wanting to be even more trouble and start winding her up further with crocodile tears. And he was doing a good job of it.

Until she started to swerve the car.

Instantly, the words started to tear from his throat in a strangle panic, rasping slightly as he faintly noted he hadn’t had anything to drink since the early morning. Apologies spilled from his lips, a silent and desperate plea for her to stop. For her to slow down, to focus on the road, to calm down, to stop shouting at him. To stop saying all of those things she was saying that were chipping away at pieces of his heart like verbal pickaxes.

“WHAT’S STOPPING ME FROM CRASHING THIS FUCKING CAR RIGHT NOW? I BET YOU’D FUCKING LOVE FOR THAT TO HAPPEN. FOR ME TO DIE HERE AND NOW. FOR THIS TO ALL END BECAUSE YOU CLEARLY THINK I’M SUCH AN AWFUL MOTHER, ISN’T THAT RIGHT?”

He watched as his mum let go of the steering wheel for a moment, the car instantly drifting straight towards the ditch on the side of the road, before jerking away and being set back on course. Tears poured from his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath, thrown headfirst into a panic attack at the imminent threat on his life as well as his mother’s. He tried to gasp out a response, an apology begging for her to stop. To understand how sorry he was. To try and convince her how much he loved her and cared about her. But his throat was too tight and his mum was just too loud, not even giving a moment's pause between her shouts.

“AFTER EVERYTHING I HAVE DONE FOR YOU, THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME? AFTER EVERYTHING YOU DID TO THIS FAMILY. YOU’RE LUCKY THAT I’M EVEN WILLING TO BE SEEN WITH YOU IN PUBLIC OR TAKE YOU OUT. FUCKING EMBARRASSMENT.”

His hands were clasped around the seat belt, his legs trying to draw upwards to his chest in an attempt to curl up and protect himself from what he believed could be the very real threat of serious injury. His eyes frantically scanned the road ahead to look for another car, a part of his mind telling him that his mum would get in trouble if anyone saw the way she was driving. His body swayed from side to side in the seat as the tires screeched on the road, the vehicle weaving manically under the control of his mum. Chest burning as he tried to catch his breath, he tried to scrunch his eyes shut in fear as if being unable to see what was happening would somehow protect him. His mum continued to speak, her tone slightly lower but still just as threatening. Still just as damaging.

“You’ve always got to be such a spoiled brat and ruin my day. I bet you fucking LOVE seeing me like this- So pleased at seeing me suffer and struggle. I bet that’s how you felt when you fucking killed hi-”

In an instant, Steven was gasping awake and propelling himself away from the warm body next to him. He blindly tumbled back off of the seat and crashed down to the floor, shuffling backwards on the hardwood floor until his back collided with something inanimate and solid. Still scrunching his eyes shut hard, he continued to rattle out pleas, heartbreakingly desperate attempts asking his mum to stop the car. Reassurance that he still loved her so much, that she didn’t need to do this and that he was so incredibly sorry for the things he’d done. Promises that he’d be better, that he’d be a good son for her, that he’d make it up to her.

He felt a hand brush over his shoulder, the touch light but unexpected enough and so fearfully unwelcome that a whimper escaped his mouth as he forcefully flinched backwards away from it. The hem of his soft and slightly oversized sweater was balled in his hands, fingers tightly clutched around the material and clinging to it like a lifeline. Teardrops streamed down his face harshly as he continued to try and minimise the noises he made as he sobbed, trying not to make her even more angry at the dramatic display.

Distantly, he hears the sound of something gently shuffling, moving back and forth before stopping across from him. The noise grows closer and approaches, instinctually causing him to try and curl up even more and make himself smaller. To his side, he suddenly hears something light hitting the floor and landing right next to his figure, something else gently being placed on his other side. The weirdly soft material that brushed against his leg was so distracting it almost snapped him out of his blubbering stupor. It felt nice though. Different. Almost reassuring.

Prying the fingers of one of his hands away from his sweater, he shakily darted his hand out to grab the thing, pulling it close to him in an instant. He felt it unfold on top of his legs slightly as he moved it, the type of pressure making him feel secure instead of terrified. His other hand gingerly and curiously shot out to grab the other thing resting against his other side, fingers wrapping around it and hugging it into his chest to cradle it. It was a vaguely familiar feeling as he shifted fearfully to hide himself under the soft material.

His breathing still heaved painfully as he fought to keep the jerking rising-falling movement of his shoulders as small as possible so as not to draw even more attention to himself, but it slowed down fractionally along with the tears rolling down his cheeks. The buzzed shouting of his mum screaming in his head lowered ever so gradually as another voice that wasn’t his own filled the air. It was calm and collected, a steady and familiar tone saying something. Reciting something.

It wasn’t something he understood, not at first, not in english. It took a moment before he processed what the phonetics sounded like. It was french. His favourite poet. Marceline Desbordes-Valmore.

As the voice spoke, delivering more stanzas of poetry, Steven copied. His thoughts running on autopilot as he mimicked the words being spoken by the voice, the safety it carried. Then half way through one of them, he began to translate it, his body taking over and steadying his breathing as it started to settle it back into the automatic and subconscious process.

“N’écris pas. Je te crains ; j’ai peur de ma mémoire ; Elle a gardé ta voix qui m’appelle souvent. Ne montre pas l’eau vive à qui ne peut la boire. Une chère écriture est un portrait vivant. N’écris pas.”// “Do not write. I fear you. I fear to remember, for memory holds the voice I have often heard. To the one who cannot drink, do not show water, the beloved one’s picture in the handwritten word. Do not write.”

As he thinks the words, he feels a rush of confidence at the lack of immediate danger, tentatively peeling his eyes open and peeking up from underneath what he now sees is a blanket. It takes a moment for them to adjust to the darkness of the room, a single dim lamp acting as a spotlight, highlighting a single figure sat across from him on the floor with her legs crossed and a book in hand. He knew her. He knew this place. This wasn’t the car, his mum wasn’t here. He was in his flat in London, and sitting adjacent to him was Layla. Steven’s lip trembled slightly, the overwhelming emotions not having completely settled down yet, jaw clicking quietly as he opened his mouth to speak in a rasped yet hushed tone.

“Your voice is lovely.”

Instantly, Layla’s head snaps up and looks towards him, her eyes full of surprise but also joy and reassurance at the sight of a mostly grounded and present Steven. She smiled, a dash of worry still evident but mostly hidden by relief. Softly, she closes the poetry book and places it to her side before slowly shuffling towards him, leaving enough time for him to say something if he doesn’t want her to be near. Eventually, she makes her way to be just in touching distance to the man, but still not touching him and instead waiting for any contact to be initiated. In a voice that’s so uniquely safe to Steven, she speaks.

“Hey, Steven. How are you feeling?”

The Brit swore he could’ve almost started full on crying again at the softness in which she said his name. He nodded gently in response, glancing down briefly to see the teddy he was holding hugged to his chest. As childish as it might’ve been, Steven treasured that item more than he could ever truly convey, and it warmed his heart to know that Layla not only acknowledged that without judging but also willingly gave it to him as comfort when he couldn’t accept it in any other forms. He looked back up to meet her eyes and knew the silent question she was asking. Do you want to talk about it?

They’d started trying to be more transparent about things with her about their childhood. Not to the extent of relaying everything, but she knew enough to paint a clear picture in her mind as to what they went through. He knew that she knew exactly what the subject of the nightmare was about, if not for the faint memory of all of the things he said out loud while he still thought he was stuck inside of it. And as much as he hated the idea of admitting the problem after months of hiding it, he wanted nothing more than to rid himself of the burden of carrying the weight alone. So he lifted his arm up to expose some of the blanket, nonverballing asking her to sit beside him, and started to talk.

“Why did she have to do those things to us? We were a child. We were scared and we were grieving and we’d just lost our brother. Marc had just lost his brother and all he needed was his mum, we needed our mum. We needed someone who cared about us. And instead, we had to deal with it ourselves. We had to care for and look after each other because no one else would. We were just a kid, Layla. We shouldn’t have had to do that. None of this should’ve ever happened. She’s the reason that we’re even a we in the first place and we got away from her and she’s still managing to break us even now. It’s not fair that we had to- I hate it so much- I just- I just want it to stop. Why can’t we just make it stop?”

Stray tears trickled down his face as he leaned into Layla just as he’d done earlier in the night, her arm wrapping around him in a hug and rubbing small circles into his shoulder as he rambled. A heavy silence settled over them as his words fell to a close, a shuddering breath shaking him slightly before he forced himself to relax. Steven didn’t expect a response from her, he was just glad he had someone who listened to him. He felt her add a bit more pressure to his back before pausing and slowly drawing him in closer for a hug, in which he gladly allowed himself to be pulled and enveloped into her arms. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, the faint smell of incense lingering in her hair from having burned some earlier.

He knew he’d have to talk about things later in more depth. Layla would never force him to talk about something he didn’t want to, but he knew he’d feel better getting it all out in the open, and he knew that she’d listen to anything he had to say without judgement. Sure, it was uncomfortable sitting on the hard wood of the old floorboards, and they’d probably regret not getting up sooner and moving to somewhere more comfortable later on. But for now he just wanted to exist safely, sheltered in the protection she provided him, so that’s exactly what he intended on doing. He closed his eyes and allowed her to just hold him. To give him the comfort and compassion he had been denied as a boy. It wouldn’t magically fix everything in an instant, but it was a start and that’s all he could ask for.

#moon knight #moon knight system #fic #whumptember2023 #whumptober #steven grant #layla el faouly #wendy spector #nightmares #tw child abuse #autistic steven grant #writing

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jasonlindsey · 10 months ago

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Jason Lindsey on Collaboration, Spontaneity and Authentic Moments

by Heather Elder on Notes from a Rep's Journal

Our artist’s job is to tell a story. Sometimes that’s through enhanced images using CGI, sometimes it’s through motion, and sometimes it has to be done through emotions in still imagery. Being able to pull out emotion from talent that translates to the viewer is a skill and one that must be exercised regularly. Photographer and Director Jason Lindsey, whose vision through empathy ensures that his imagery tells the kinds of stories that bring people deeper into something that will move them and inspire action.

Recently, Jason worked on a pharmaceutical campaign with a brand we must keep anonymous for privacy reasons. This client wanted honest emotions from it’s talent, which included children. Jason credits solid collaboration between the production team, client and agency as well as his season abilities to elicit reactions from talent that bring those desired emotions as the hero of the images. Read on to learn more about this shoot through our conversation with Jason.

vimeo

What struck you most about the collaboration between the production team, client, and agency during this project?

From day one, it was evident that everyone involved was fully committed to bringing the vision to life. The level of collaboration was exceptional, from the pre-production phase all the way through to the final moments of the shoot. What stood out to me was not just the individual talents of each team member but the shared goal we all had in mind. Clear communication and mutual respect were key in fostering a productive and cohesive environment, despite many of us being new to working together.

We spoke to Brandessa Hale, the Executive Producer on this shoot, who gave her insights into what made this team so special: "Jason is not only extremely talented but also a fantastic communicator which makes things so much more efficient and smooth every step of the way. This project had a lot of moving parts; shooting motion and stills in multiple locations with a lot of talent (including plenty of kids!) but meeting the challenges felt easy with such a clear and collaborative partner. And it didn’t hurt that we were working with an amazing agency producer that matched our positivity and was super buttoned up. My favorite thing about being a producer is putting together a great team and supporting each individual well so they are empowered to do great work and Jason is the same way; he elicits the best from everyone through support and positivity which is really refreshing and energizing for the whole team. It was super fun and the final work looks amazing! ... And now I am missing everyone on the team and want to do it again!"

Can you share more about the production team based in San Diego and their contribution to the project?

I have to say, the production team in San Diego was nothing short of outstanding. Despite being new faces to me, every member brought their A-game, demonstrating professionalism and dedication throughout. It was truly inspiring to witness the seamless synergy among the crew members, from the lighting technicians to the set designers. Each person played a crucial role in capturing the essence of the campaign, and their collective effort was instrumental in the project's success.

How were you able to capture such authentic expressions and moments during the shoot?

For me, it's all about creating a relaxed and positive atmosphere on set. Whether I'm working with adults or children, building rapport and establishing trust is essential. When it comes to scenes involving kids, I make sure to create a playful environment where they feel comfortable being themselves. Breaking down barriers and engaging with them on a personal level allows for genuine reactions that truly resonate with the campaign's message. Patience and flexibility are also key; allowing for spontaneity and embracing unexpected moments often leads to capturing raw emotions and authentic interactions that breathe life into the final product.

#Vimeo

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cattatonically · 7 months ago

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Devil's Mark - Lark Taylor (The Reckless Damned, book 1)

Synopsis

Cal and his brothers turned their backs on the family business over a hundred years ago – but Hell is tired of waiting for them to return.

Cal

I’ve never wanted a relationship – especially not with a human. With my father demanding my return to Hell and a demon leaving dead bodies in my bookshop, now is not the time to be losing my heart. But one look in Oscar’s broken eyes and I know I’m in trouble. Oscar’s been hurt before and everything in me is screaming to keep him safe. How can I do that when I know being with me will only put him in more danger?

More importantly though, am I strong enough to walk away from him?

Oscar

After escaping my last relationship with broken bones and an anxiety disorder, I’m tired of living half a life. My world revolves around my classroom, flat, and best friend. When fate throws Cal in my path, he seems too good to be true. Not only does he look like he’s been pulled from my fantasies, but my baggage doesn’t scare him. Ok, so there’s the tiny issue of him being a demon, but I’ve dealt with far scarier.

I’ve been broken once before, and I don’t think I’d survive it again. Can I pull down my barriers enough to let Cal in?

Trigger warning for emotional abuse and domestic violence in a previous relationship, anxiety attacks, and descriptions of violence.

My Thoughts

Oscar has baggage, and Cal has secrets. But something otherworldly draws them to each other, and when Cal’s past threatens to bleed into his present, there is nothing Cal won’t do to keep Oscar safe.

Cal’s father wants to bring his sons back home – the three that left Hell and their positions as the princes, Lucifer’s sons. They want nothing to do with this. And then Cal mets Oscar. Feisty, nerdy Oscar who has been through his own personal hell, and survived. There’s an undeniable connection between the two when they meet, and their connection grows very strong, very fast.

Cal is overprotective, a little possessive, and absolutely smitten with Oscar. Which is exactly what Oscar needs – because Cal builds him up. Cal supports him, but he doesn’t try to control Oscar in any way. They treat each other as equals. They respect each other, and they work together to get through challenges. Even when the threat of mortal danger looms high and mighty.

This book was a solid mix of world building, some backstory, and character development. The plot is clearly one that will be ongoing – Lucifer won’t give up trying to regain control of his sons. But Cal is stronger with Oscar by his side. And there are three more brothers left to find their mates. I’m sure what comes next is bound to be a very wild ride.

#Book thoughts #Devil's Mark #Lark Taylor #The Reckless Damned series #Catt reads #Catt's life in books

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dew-journal · 9 months ago

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Another obsession. Do I just keep collecting these powerful crushes, never to see any to fruition or ruin? All of my hopes of connecting to people that I desire have been crumbling. Not due to lack of pursuit it seems, but of the randomness of coincidence. And yet ever onward to new crushes. Although I have to admit the newest one is possibly the most consuming I have had (at least for sometime). She seems ethereal, both in beauty and demeanor. While we have hardly interacted in any meaningful way I have become utterly smitten. She is a person who I assumed would only ever be a passing presence, someone I would see from afar at the markets and make any excuse to visit their table; or someone who I’d admire through their online activity. Someone who’d never know my name, and maybe not even my face. She would forget I exist once I left her sight, just another person in an overcrowded sea of the same. Yet by some measure of luck and goodwill I was at the same table, eating a meal with her and others who in any other circumstance I would pine to be even in the same music venue as. None of that means anything at all, but she might now remember my face, she might remember my name. And goddamn catching a glimpse of a rare smile on her lips melted my heart (even though it was not because of me). Of course one meal, one night, means nothing. Maybe I will still only have passing glances and missed opportunities. I do have one thing that may prove to be a powerful tool for the next time we chance to cross paths. The introduction. Officially we have been introduced to each other so the highest hurdle has already been met. All I have to do is the next time I see her is walk up to her table or where she is and say “It’s Olivia right? I don’t know if you remember me, but we were introduced after the BM Market in April. Just wanted to say hi, and that your look is just killer.” Or some variation, and definitely should remember to reintroduce myself too though. The problem though is I still have to overcome my nerves and present myself in a way that I actually want to be. I still feel that my biggest obstacle is I am still in a bit of a crisis of self doubt. I know the person I want to be, but it’s as if I don’t know how to get there. The true issue is that what is getting in my way isn’t something physical preventing me from moving, it is a psychological and/or monetary barrier. And the other issue is there is a first psychological barrier in front of the second which is the one stopping my true progress.

All of this doesn’t even touch on the gamble that comes into play when facing these emotions. It isn’t up to me, I have zero actual control over how she would perceive me. How any of my crushes will perceive me. I can do everything “right” and still just be not a fit. Which just sucks. That’s life, the highs and lows. I have just been feeling a lot more lows than highs and it’s soul crushing. My relationships all fall apart, a lot of the time due to me (at least partially) admittedly. But I can’t help but have a nagging thought in my head that rears every time this topic comes up. Every single one of my attempts at relationships since Ari, have been started because “they answered”. Not one has truly been with someone I felt passionate about. They were what I felt was as good as I could do as I was lonely or they were present. It’s been so hard for me trying to find someone that I get on blinders and just accept people who show interest. I just want one person who I crush on to even give me a chance, but I suppose that still puts the ball in my court.

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bourboncynic · 11 months ago

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The Broken & The New

2023 broke me.

Broke me so much I would have much preferred 2012 all over again. "The dark years" as I categorize 'em.

Broke me in ways I never reckoned I feel, experience, live, or endure in my pre-40 life.

I was so sure 2023 was going to be “my year.”

Granted, I’ve had a lot of successes in 2023 which I will be grateful for. And I know who some of my good friends are. But we’re human. The stress and ordeals and road bumps are often of upmost priority when looking back on a year.

I can deal with stress. I can deal with ordeals. I can deal with road bumps.

I couldn’t deal with 2023’s version of such vernacular.

I’ve had my heart broken. I’ve experienced a loss of a family member. I’ve experienced how my patience and good heartedness was stepped all over and used against me.

Summer was when I nearly broke completely. As an advocate of mental health and body positivity, I neglected myself for so long. After years of swearing it off… I finally enrolled in Therapy.

Some friends are now long gone.

Friends who made me feel special, popular; my absolute best.

Only to discover it was all a ruse. A manipulation ploy; designed to control me, mislead me, and ultimately; control me… depriving me of any strength, integrity, or solace for the sake of his or her own happiness.

I finally experienced how it feels to be used, deluded, manipulated, screwed over, unheard, insignificant, down, lost, depleted, and disrespected.

I was a servant. A jester. But never an equal.

My problems and concerns and worries and successes meant nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I lived most of 2023 in fear.

I lived in denial of who I was, who I wanted to be, and who I was raised to be. In addition, I had built a wall between me and everybody around me because I couldn’t let any of ‘em see the clusterfuck mess I was. So nobody could see I was drowning. How do you open up to someone about the demons you’re battling with when the people you believed were your ‘ride of die’ friends were the personification of TOXICITY?

I’ve learned a lot in just a couple of months.

This year is where I felt SOMETHING which never resonated with me until now… boundaries.

Knowing boundaries like when to say no and NOT feel any guilt. Stand up when SOMETHING makes you at all uncomfortable. Don’t give in much of your availability for ANYONE just so you can feel like you’re being nice. Don't let someone push you around for selfish gains. Don't be someone's emotional punching bag. Don't be afraid of being and prioritizing being somebody's number one. And don’t feel like you have to be everywhere.

Sounds selfish, I know. But knowing you have agency is easier said than done.

As a people pleaser for the majority of my life… I learned from 2023 where I should put my energy in and how to protect my energy. I know how stability is meant to feel like. Therapy just didn’t open my eyes, but grasping to “radical acceptance.”

2021 shattered me.

2022 changed me.

2023 broke me but opened my eyes.

2024 will be a year of evolving and flourishing.

I’ve always been a fighter. I will continue fighting. I will continue to be open and vulnerable to people who matter most, and who will delight in seeing me breaking down barriers and showing a different side of myself.

For any of you fighting… keep fighting. If you need a helping hand, I will gladly fight with you. If you fought hard in 2023; give yourself a pat on the back and celebrate. You deserve it.

I am celebrating by having another tattoo done in late January.

This is not an attempt for sympathy likes or shout-outs. This is just me being me, because I haven't been me in a while.

And it feels good to be close to 'me' again.

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imbonewary · 1 year ago

Text

Shifting Sans Chapter 4 "Not in Kansas Anymore"

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 5

"I don't pretend to know any details of why or how or whatever," I continued, sitting back down. "But it's the only explanation that makes any kind of sense to me. Who do you think I am, Papyrus?"

"I think that you're a clone of Sans," He said immediately, meeting my accusatory glare head on. "With false memories, though I don't know why."

"A clone?!" I reeled. That's a thing? "And why would I have false memories that are so inconsistent? It makes no sense."

"Perhaps it would help if you explained more about uh "where you're from" as you put it," Toriel cut off whatever response Papyrus was about to make. He huffed and leaned back against the banister with folded arms. "Maybe then we could understand a bit better why you think it's so divergent."

I cringed. I hate talking about myself, especially certain parts of my past, and I'm not sure I can skip those if my theory is right. God I hate this.

"Fine, I guess I'll establish a baseline first," I said, mind going a million miles a minute. Where do I even start? "You said Asriel was King before Undyne; well, where I'm from, Asriel died when he was still a young Prince, so that seems like a good enough place to start. The royal family," no need to go into who his parents were just yet. "Had adopted a human child that fell into the underground and the two kids were inseparable. At some point, the human got really sick and died, convincing Asriel to absorb their soul and go through the barrier. I think the plan was to gather 6 more souls and break the barrier but Asriel came back empty handed and promptly died from his injuries. The King declared war on humanity for killing his son and the Queen left him in disgust, hiding in the Ruins instead."

"In more recent history, I was born with a fallen soul," I continued before anyone could interject. "My parents did their best to keep me alive until my little brother was born and I found the will to live. Fast forward a dozen or so happy childhood years and I was the protégé of the then Royal Scientist."

The sudden drop in temperature was almost palpable. What kind of reaction was this? I hadn't even said his name yet. Welp, gonna have to ask about that later.

"One day, there was a terrible accident and my parents were among the casualties. The Royal Scientist was kind enough to take me and my brother in." There was a spike of grim anticipation. "I realized too late that it was a trap, just to get me and my brother under his thumb." I felt a strange relief, like the acceptance you might feel being proved right about something you wish you had gotten wrong. There was no other way to describe it. Boy, feeling other people's emotions was weird.

"You don't have to go into the experiments right now if you don't want to," Toriel said softly. That was suspicious, I hadn't said I was experimented on yet. Was it that obvious what he was planning?

"Right," I breathed. Not gonna look this gift horse in the mouth. "Years later, I escaped with my brother and set us up in Snowdin, as far from the Hotland Labs as I could get us. That's when the real hell started." They didn't seem too surprised about the Labs, I wonder... "Does the term "reset" mean anything to you?"

It definitely meant something to Papyrus.

All kinds of alarm bells were going off in his direction, from panic to fear to anger to god knows what else. I looked up at him in surprise, finding Pap frozen, his eyes pinpricks, staring blankly at nothing. I knew that expression all too well; he was neck deep in a flashback. Again, not the reaction I was expecting. I wasn't the only one who noticed but we all collectively agreed to ignore it for now.

"What do you mean by "reset"?" Toriel asked slowly, glancing at Papyrus before focusing back on me.

"Oh boy," I sighed. "This oughta be fun. Imagine this: you're going about your day, as usual, when suddenly it's like the past hour never happened. Everything happens exactly like it just did in that hour but you already knew what was coming because you'd just lived it. Imagine the same thing happening but with days, weeks, months... years. Where time just, steps back a bit, like an intense deja vu but you can change things, not just live through it. You could tell someone a secret, then time would step back and they'd have never heard it before. You bake a cake then suddenly have to do it all over again 'cause it never happened. And you have no idea what's going to stick or how far back you'll step, how much living could just be erased at a moments notice. How many memories you will have that no one else will ever know, 'cause no one ever remembers but you and that god damn flower!" I growled that last bit before realizing I probably shouldn't have said that. Tipped my cards a little too much.

"Flower?" Toriel cocked her head. I sighed. It was too much to hope that they hadn't caught that last bit.

"Yeah, Flowey the Flower," I said, staring back at the floor. No point denying it now. "I could never really confirm it, since I didn't want him to know that I could remember, but I'm pretty sure he was controlling it since everyone else would act the same unless he was involved somehow and all of his actions would have cascading effects. He was nice for a while, tried to get everyone a "happy ending" but... power corrupts. I mean, what would you do if you were above consequences?"

I let that hang in the air for a bit.

"Anyways," I changed the subject. "Another supporting point for my "alternate universe" theory is that each of you is similar to people I know but not quite. Like Alphys being the current Royal Scientist, not Toriel. You asked where I live in Snowdin; well I'm supposed to live here, in this house, with my innocent younger brother Papyrus. Undyne is supposed to be Captain and Asgore is supposed to be the King, not the other way around. Mettané is called Mettaton and has a robot body, not a wheelchair."

"Well that," Toriel sounded out of breath. "Is certainly a lot to take in... Um, you mentioned Asgore being the King, does that mean he took over later?"

"Noticed that, huh?" Of course Asgore is what she noticed. "No, Asgore is a boss monster so he was still King after Asriel's death. Is Undyne a boss monster?"

"Yes, as was Asriel before his death," Toriel replied. I guess Boss Monsters work different around here. "Aside from the age difference, and Asriel adopting the human as his child instead of sibling, Asriel's story seems more or less the same. Who," she swallowed hard. "Who were your Asriel's parents?"

"As I'm sure you've already put together," I tried not to smirk. "Asgore was Asriel's father. But that's not what you're worried about, is it?" Toriel blushed and looked away. Silly goat. "Well, my Asriel's mother was indeed named Toriel. She's also a boss monster so she's still kicking too." Until the kid got to her but that's not important yet. "At least, where I come from anyways."

I didn't need emotion feeling to see everyone's amusement at poor Toriel's expense.

"That also means," Papyrus finally seemed to have rejoined the conversation. "That your Toriel lost her son and quit politics, living in the Ruins. Sounds familiar."

Way to kill the mood, ya wet blanket. He's referencing Sans, right? I think I remember Pap saying Sans was Asriel's advisor or something...

"W-well, relationship status aside," Toriel tried to reign in the conversation. "I believe it is your turn to ask a question, Sans."

Everything about her screamed Save Me.

"Right," I took pity on her. "Papyrus, why was cloning your go-to explanation for my existence?"

Papyrus and Alphys froze while Toriel and Mettané looked uncomfortable. Guess I'm the wet blanket this time.

"Cloning was my first thought," Papyrus said slowly. "Because I'm a clone."

Oh.

Wait.

"If you're a clone," I breathed. "Than where's the real Papyrus?"

"I AM THE REAL PAPYRUS!" he snarled, magic bristling around him, itching to form an attack. "I'm a clone of the former Royal Scientist!"

#undertale #jumbletale #alternate universe #oc #shifting sans #serif #amber alphys #lucky papyrus #doc toriel #mettané #gaster #papyrus has seen some shit

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rhinoplant · 2 years ago

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A spiral of questions and what ifs

I don’t know why I stayed as long as I did in that relationship. Maybe it was out of pity? Pity for who? I don't even know the answer to that. Maybe for them because I knew how bad of a person they were, so I pitied them because I knew they’d never receive the amount of attention I gave them from anyone else. Pity for myself because I was afraid of being alone. Loneliness terrified me then, and it does now. I’ve lost countless people throughout my life, and at times I began to wonder if I was the problem.

I thought I was the problem for over the three years I was with them. Maybe I gained too much weight for them now? Maybe I should let my hair grow long because they like it best like that? Maybe I shouldn’t dye my hair because they like brunettes and dark hair? Maybe I shouldn’t wear this because they like this other style? It was a constant battle of “ifs” with them. I felt trapped like I had no control over my body or decisions. Was I really that fragile?

This problem of mine, where I felt I had no control, was challenged one afternoon when we were alone. A moment of kissing led to another. I remember saying no. I remember saying I didn’t want to be touched but they didn’t listen and did it anyway. I remember looking out the foggy window. It was cloudy that day, the fall weather making everything gloomy. I don’t remember how their hands and mouth felt on my body. All I remember was coming home right after and sobbing into my pillow. I still stayed in that relationship for another 2 years.

Each time I said no, and once they were done with whatever they did, they would respond with “I thought you didn’t want this?”. The way my body reacted was out of my control. I could not control my fluids. Yet it was used against me to justify his actions.

Maybe I did want it? Maybe I brought this all upon myself. Maybe I was the issue. Maybe I was fragile.

Maybe I was the problem.

They constantly made me question everything about myself.

Everything after that changed, and a year passed. Being alone with them terrified me, so I did everything possible to avoid any alone time. But that’s difficult when you’re in a relationship. Eventually, I put barriers up. We wouldn’t kiss as often anymore or do anything remotely “intimate”( whatever the hell that was because the only intimacy I ever received were actions that made me disgusted). I think that’s when the relationship began to falter. Every Time I saw a message from them on my phone, I felt annoyed about having to respond. Everything about them irritated me once I saw through their false act.

They acted so innocent, so soft, and so pathetically stupid.

Why hadn’t I seen this false act they had going on? Why did it take me so long to figure it out? They were so manipulative, a notorious liar, and would gaslight me any chance they got. Somehow I became the one to blame when they voluntarily smashed their fist into a wall out of extreme anger because I was upset they hadn’t helped me with something. I just communicated that I felt sad that they hadn’t helped me, and the next thing I know, they come up with their first wrapped in a bandage and people saying I had caused this. So, naturally, after that, I learned to stay silent. I didn’t communicate my emotions with them because I wouldn’t be able to control their anger. I had no control over their fists. What I can say is their fists never touched my body, only our surroundings. Staying silent was the only thing that secured me from getting hurt emotionally and physically.

I can think of other events where they were a horrible person, but why am I making it so much about them? Why did I even take the time to pour out all my emotions? It hurts revisiting what the younger me endured. God, I can’t even begin to describe the pain I have gone through since then. Clearly, I’m no longer in that relationship and haven’t been in over a year, but the pain hasn’t gone away because I’ll never be able to take back all that I lost.

I’ll never be able to let someone else touch me without flinching for some time. I’ll never be able to open up to someone else without the fear of being hurt. I’ll never be able to put on my favorite underwear brand ever again because they would touch me in those. I haven’t been able to throw that pair away. It’s been sitting stuffed into a drawer for so long because just touching it turns me into that young fragile girl who couldn’t defend herself. I’ll never be able to get intimate with someone else without the fear of my consent not being granted. I’ll never get that innocence of mine back again. I’ll never be able to look at my body without feeling disgusted. I’ll never get to feel joy about my body, my accomplishments, my hobbies, my enjoyment, and anything ever again.

Younger me deserved so much, yet she got so little, all because of one person. One person ruined so much for me.

Why on earth did I put up with that for so long? Looking back, it makes me want to cry. Sometimes I still cry. I cry so much that my eyes turn red, my stomach hurts, and my face is covered in tears. Those tears won’t bring anything back. Those tears won’t do anything anymore. I’m finally crying for myself after so long and realizing what I had endured still makes me sick. That feeling hasn’t gone away.

But I think I can fully heal at some point down the road. I'm hopeful.

#tw #toxic relationship #assault #cw vent #trying to heal

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aspd-culture · 3 months ago

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@faithfromanewperspective asked a question on there that is a point I'd like to address but it would take too many characters for a comment reply. The question was "not something I know anything meaningful about really. but do you think that the developmental processes that are usually done by age 10 could occur later in certain conditions and could that be what anon is referring to, if it’s true?"

Firstly, I have two developmental disorders and am autistic so I would likely have noticed if it had anything to do with autism and ADHD, I would have had a good chance to have experienced it bc I very much do remember being 10.

But even outside of those, because of the extremity of the processes we're speaking about no I think the age ranges, which are normally quoted as 6-8 or 7-9, would be well documented. And I do have good reasoning for that.

So, the processes in question make up the fusing of the personality. You can read more about this by researching the theory of structural dissociation if you want, but basically what it is is the cause for that thing little-r kids do where they can be sad and inconsolable one moment, then get distracted and be completely fine, and return to being inconsolable if you remind them. That isn't them being manipulative (ew goddamn I hate when ppl say that bc the neurological development required for manipulation really requires you to be at least a teenager before you're able to actually manipulate someone with intent) or even dramatic; it's currently understood to be entirely separate states of being in a similar vein to alters. There's a reason a child is "a whole different person when they're tired" and it's because, when you boil it down, they pretty much are. There are rudimentary amnesia walls between these states as well, which is why you have to remind the child of what they were sad about and once you do they'll return to that state. If you've ever had to say "weren't you hungry?" to a child who wholly forgot they asked you for a snack but is now *starving*, you've seen this in action.

At a certain point, these states fuse and become a single personality given normal development. And, in normal development, this tends to be noticed happening on the younger end of the spectrum - usually closer to 5-6 in the majority of children I worked with. This was, in fact, a milestone that you are actively looking for to spot any concerning delays at age 5-6. For those who don't know, the difference in only a year of a child's life under 9-10 is immense, so for something to be delayed for over 5 years is extreme and unexpected. Children who are still experiencing extreme emotional instability much earlier than that are usually curbed via giving them the words to describe and name their emotions. That wouldn't help if it were due to ego states with amnesia barriers.

Are there kids who are outside of this normal? Absolutely, and that's why they give the honestly huge age gap of expected development of a fused personality between 6 and 9, which is the official ages stated in the theory of structural dissociation. I said 10 at the latest because I have seen one (1) example somewhere of a semi reliable source stating it could be as late as 10. But that 6-9 accounts plenty for emotional delays, especially for something that I saw happening as early as 4 in my classrooms.

If you have children in your life, you can tell that it's not normal for a child to be in 5th grade by the time that they don't have this heavy emotional instability anymore. 8-10 is also when they start to experience complex emotions, emotions happening at the same time, and those "inbetween" emotions that can't be put into neat categories like angry or sad. Those emotions are a normal part of development that is looked for between 8 and 10 that wouldn't be possible with the emotional ego states still separate, and anything after that would be a concerning delay that would be watched and documented.

Plus the change here is something parents wait for desperately and immediately notice when it begins to happen. When these delay even anywhere near 8-10 years old, people notice. Like, a lot. It's one of those things that we would know about if it was a part of the delays developmental disorders are known to cause, because the things that get researched and documented in child psych are nearly always the disruptive behaviors. When a child has a full personality shift between emotions, one that isn't covert (which the emotional states that CDDs form from are not - CDDs themselves are nearly but not always covert but those emotional states themselves aren't and we're not talking about something that only occurs in systems), that is pretty disruptive and noticeable. That happening enough that we could directly contribute them to other disorders would be documented.

Instead, at these ages you'll see bouts of "tantrums" and other heavy emotions beginning to be diagnosed as others disorders, like such as IED or DMDD. Those wouldn't be diagnosable if it was in any expected range for things to delay like that, and both of these can be comorbid with developmental disorders meaning it's not an expected part of that developmental disorder. And again, this is starting earlier too at ages 8-10.

The evidence we currently have - and I say currently for a reason bc psychology has a short half life compared to the other sciences and especially abnormal psychology - says that 6-9 would be the latest age range for those states to be expected to fuse and, once they do, you can't develop a system anymore. However, you can *notice* a system at any age. I know ppl who had no idea until they were in their 20s even despite knowing other systems including myself. I'm very very sure there are people who found out much later. But they developed between 6-9 if not earlier, with all the current psychological understanding.

Everything I say on psych comes with the awareness that it could be proven wrong and, like any rational person would, given repeated studies proving this and the original theory being thrown out or amended, I would respect the new information. But it takes a lot of research and proof for something to become the accepted theory behind a disorder's development (especially one as psychologically and neurologically interesting as CDDs), and I trust in that until given a non-anecdotal, genuine set of reproducible studies saying different as with all science.

(None of this is with any intended tone besides "/info"! I love having these discussions but I also want to make sure I'm correcting misinfo when I have the information to back up why it's incorrect bc that's important when you're educating about a disorder)

Plain text below the cut:

Ive heard of systems developing at later childhood ages due to autism, developmental disorders, developmental delays, trauma impacting the child at later ages due to still having an incohesive self due to developmental delays, etc. I dont have a source tho bc im in the car omw to a doctor appt

Systems as of current understanding have an age range usually limited at the upper end as 9 or 10 by the Theory of Structural Dissociation - which is our only current way that systems are believed to be able to form. Also, they can only form from trauma so the additional disorders wouldn't be relevant except in the way that being autistic in today's society is inherently traumatic.

Plain text below the cut:

#aspd-culture-is #cdd system

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evebestt · 2 years ago

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Farah x reader fanfic where the reader is Bloom’s slightly older sister who was in the military but left and she’s also a fairy as well and she and Farah bond or something? Can be fluff hurt/comfort, smut anything you can decide but I’ve just had that idea for a little while and figured I’d ask. If you don’t want to or feel comfortable with it then could you just write one where Farah comforts the reader I am a sad potato right now so anything would be nice🍪🧁🧁❤️hope you’re doing okay

Hi hon! Thank you for sending this in! It turned out to be just the prompt I needed to write at this time 🖤

My family lost a good friend a couple days ago -- if you've ever known pain like that, of any kind, I hope this can help.

Read here on AO3 or below

Wildflowers

You sat on a bench, arms draped over the back as you watched the little figures you’d made dance through the air. You’d called the flowers from the earth and asked them to grow and twine together into a shape that pleased them, and found that they gave you six horses, all dappled with the dainty pastels of flowers. You’d sent them running into the air then, and had since watched them leap and dance, grateful for the distraction.

Some time later, when the sun had moved a few inches through the sky, a delicate little horse made of water pranced through the air, tossing its mane so the water shimmered like pinpricks of stars. It approached yours in a regal trot, then made you smile as it bowed low, one leg lifted as it dropped to its knees. You made one of yours stop and bow back, and then you chuckled when the water horse reared playfully and tapped your horse with a hoof.

“I didn’t expect to find you here.”

You turned your head and saw Farah standing a few paces away, her eyes glowing with magic, though you’d already known it was her — you knew her magic well, and it always had a shimmer to it that made you smile.

“I wanted to come down to see my sister.” You’d only known about her for a few years, but she was still your sister.

“How’s Bloom?”

“Good. Teenager who’s in her fourth year at school. But I was once too, so.”

You slowly lowered your horses to the ground and set them to graze peacefully, watching Farah’s come in and seamlessly join their herd.

“Teenager, but maturing. She hasn’t caused nearly as much trouble this year than others.”

That made you laugh. “Between the two of us, that bar isn’t very high.”

You heard Farah chuckle too, a soft noise low in her throat, and you waved a hand at her. “You don’t just have to stand there, come sit. I didn’t realize anyone else knew about this place.”

She came, and it pleased you when she sat in the crook of your elbow. “Who do you think put the bench here?”

There were the benches in the gardens of Alfea, but if you went deeper into the woods, off the path and nearly beyond the barrier, there was another bench, old and worn but solid, steadily guarding the meadow of wildflowers it looked over. You’d found it years ago and hadn’t told a soul about it, liking the comfort the quiet brought. Though it wasn’t just your spot anymore, knowing you and Farah had sought the same place for years brought a smile to your lips. Kindred spirits, I suppose, you thought.

Farah’s horse picked up its head from grazing, then leaped and bucked not unlike a puppy, coaxing yours into play, and that made you smile too.

“You saw your sister, but your mind is heavy,” she said then. “What else is going on?”

You normally kept defenses up in your mind, knowing personally how easy it was for a fairy to pick up thoughts and emotions from others, but this was Farah. Something about her always stripped you down to your soul.

“I lost a friend today. She was young, and it was just… a fluke.”

“Oh, darling,” she murmured, and angled herself until your knees brushed. She’d never called you something so tender, so intimate before, and it brought tears to the surface again.

“It just doesn’t seem possible.” You huffed out a breath when the first tear fell and dashed it away quickly. But when the second one fell it was Farah who reached out and gently wiped it away, a low murmur of sympathy in her throat. When she offered her other hand to you, you took it and gripped it like a lifeline and leaned against her until the wave of sorrow passed.

You sat up again once you could breathe without sobs choking your throat, though Farah didn’t let go of your hand, and you weren’t inclined to either, not when she was warm and soft against you and the greatest sense of comfort you’d had since you’d received the news.

“You know that tomorrow’s never promised,” you murmured, and Farah stroked her thumb over your knuckles, her other arm now on the back of the bench behind you, nearly holding you. “People throw that phrase around enough that you can’t forget it. But when tomorrow is actually taken away, it’s…”

“Nothing can prepare you for it.”

“No,” you said on half a laugh and shifted closer to Farah. “Nothing can. Even being in the military when you know it’s a real possibility, it still doesn’t work.”

“Especially not when the person’s young.”

“Just a few years older than me. Nothing in her medical history, she just… died. They’ll do a full exam to see what happened, but…” Tears welled up in your eyes again and Farah stroked a hand over your hair. “I feel like I should have done something, or should have known.”

“What could you have done?” she asked softly, her hand still stroking your hair. “Or known?”

“I don’t know.”

“There it is, then.”

That blunt, matter-of-fact honesty that was so classically Farah made you chuckle, despite the circumstances. She was right, there was nothing you could have done, and you knew that deep down. But now in your shock and grief, you wanted to have missed something, if only because it meant that maybe she still could have been alive.

“Do not put the blame on yourself,” Farah murmured, and only then did you remember you weren’t shielding your mind from her. “No one wants those they loved to take that on.”

“I know. I just feel so helpless otherwise.”

You shifted closer to her again, and Farah pulled your joined hands onto her lap, squeezing gently while she ran her fingers along scalp. “Easier said than done, hm?”

The corners of your lips twitched in the beginnings of a wry smile. “Isn’t everything about grief?”

While the sun crept down towards the horizon, the light turning soft, you sat together just like you were, hand in hand as you watched the wind whisper through the trees and the little horses run through the wildflowers, all shining gold in the evening sun.

“Do you have anywhere to be tonight?” she asked after a while, and you shook your head.

“She was still in the military, so they’ll make all the arrangements. There’s nothing I can do now.”

“Will you come back to my place for tea, then?” You looked over at her, surprised by her offer, and she gave you a gentle smile. “You shouldn’t be alone right now. And something in your stomach will help.”

Surprised, amazed, grateful for her offer, you could only nod, then swallow hard when tears threatened again. “I thought I needed to be alone when I got the news,” you said, and then let your forehead drop to hers, leaning into her touch when she reached up to stroke your cheek. “I’m just glad you found me here instead.”

She pressed her lips ever so lightly to the corner of your mouth, chaste and sweet, more a gesture of comfort than anything else, but it made the both of you sigh and lean a little closer. “I won’t let you be alone,” she murmured, and you believed her.

So when you stood together, the golden light fading into the blue of dusk, you felt the pieces of your heart begin to steady.

#farah dowling #farah dowling x reader #ftws #fate the winx saga #eve best

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noteguk · 4 years ago

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any way you want it | kth | m

— summary; in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself.

— contents and warnings; smut, childhood best friends, Taehyung x reader, bigdick!tae, breast play, oral (f receiving), dry grinding, dirty talk, tae has a praise kink, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Taehyung takes things personally but he has good intentions, this is what happens when mutual thirst gets suppressed for years of friendship

— words; 6.6k

— author’s note; i have no idea why but this fic was so fucking hard to put down into words??? I felt mentally constipated the entire time but it’s finally here

Taehyung wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when you called him at almost two in the morning, complaining about your newest nightmarish date and practically begging to come over. Like the good friend that he was, he made sure to tell you that you would be more than welcome to join him in his newest documentary marathon about aliens, and wondered if you could bring him some takeout on your way over there. Like the bad friend that you were, you said no.

To be fair, the nearest takeout place was across the city from his apartment (about thirty minutes away and in a bad neighborhood), and you were already having a horrible night as it was. Besides, you refused to take part in Taehyung’s search for a high blood pressure and cholesterol levels, arguing that it wasn’t the right time to stuff his face full of hypercaloric noodles.

But you did pity him enough to comply with his second request: a big pot of vanilla ice cream, which you were sure you’d end up consuming too. You were in a crisis.

As if to prove that the gods above were laughing at you, during the walk of shame to Taehyung’s apartment, it had started to rain (because of course it did), and your umbrella was only able to save you from the shoulders up before it crumbled and flew away from your gasp, rolling on the asphalt like a ball of dirt in a Wild West movie. By the time that you dragged yourself to his front door, you were completely soaked (and not in the way you had planned for that night to end), and about to break down crying.

Taehyung, like the angel that he was, helped you with your heavy coat and talked you into taking a warm shower before you got sick. He took the supermarket bag from you (where the ice cream had probably already melted) and walked you to this bathroom, excusing himself so he could grab you some dry clothes — and you only saw the ones he had picked when you got out of the shower.

With a silly smile dancing on your lips, you fumbled with the black booty shorts that Taehyung had jokingly gifted you that past Christmas — one that read “daddy’s juicy butt” in big, bold, neon pink letters over your ass — and then decided that your dignity was already dead by that point, so another kick wouldn’t hurt. Taehyung had also given you one of his favorite band shirts, which he only revealed during desperate times.

Your heart melted with the thought of your best friend trying to comfort you, and pulled the fabric close to your face so you could take a deep inhale, drowning in his scent. It smelled of that stupid cologne that Taehyung had used ever since he hit puberty, and a bit of fabric softener.

The two of you had an extremely close friendship, to the point that it got kind of strange at times. Ever since childhood, it was joked that you and Taehyung had been long lost soulmates — doing everything together, from going to school to laughing at the same exact jokes during movie marathons, often at the same moment and for the same amount of time. Before puberty hit (and the hormonal rage took over your first teenage years) you couldn’t remember disagreeing with him even once. You two had always been in sync.

But the uncomfortably close part only hit after you two went to college, and your anxiety for being a virgin in a sea of starving sharks got the best of you. After long conversations, you had managed to convince Taehyung to help you learn a thing or two about the art of naked wrestling.

Apparently it was weird to give your best friend a handjob and a blowjob for the sake of education. Go figure.

Regardless, your friendship wasn’t affected by any of that — even if you two had agreed to never mention any of it ever again — and you could always count on Taehyung to catch you when you fell.

Even if it was at two am on a Tuesday, after one of your nightmarish dates.

You threw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging your knees against your chest to form a barrier between you and the divine providence that had taken you to that point. You had half-assedly dried your hair, but pools of wetness had started to build on the back of Taehyung’s shirt.

Instead of accusing you of ruining his favorite piece of clothing, Taehyung reached for the remote and paused his documentary just as the narrator was starting to explain how hieroglyphs were actually part of an alien language. “Just tell me how bad it was,” he said, a mustache of ice cream melting over his top lip.

You took a peek at the bowl of melting vanilla on his center table, and decided that you would probably pass the desert for the night.

You glanced at him sideways, voice coming out monotone. “You sure you want to go down that path?”

Taehyung licked his sweet mustache off and nodded, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, hit me with it. You look like you need all the help that you can find.”

You sighed, turning around on the couch so you were facing him — legs still against your chest. “Okay so… I went to his place...”

“Yes…”

“And... we had dinner, talked for a bit.”

“How was the talk?” He asked.

You shook your head, trying to kill the memories inside. “He didn’t let me say a word. He just went on and on about this new website he’s working on, and how expensive his wine glasses were.” You scoffed, angry at yourself for ignoring the clear red flags of an arrogant douchebag. That was what the desperate need for immediate human connection could do to someone, you thought. “Apparently it’s supposed to be the next Facebook or something. Or twitter. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention.”

He chuckled. “Starting off strong.”

“That wasn’t even the main issue,” you said, lowering your forehead so it was touching your knees. You just wanted the world to end at that moment, so you wouldn’t have to go through those experiences again. “After that, we sat on his couch and started watching a movie. And you know how that goes, we started kissing, he pushed me down and got on top of me…”

“And?” He instigated.

With a sigh, you raised your head, meeting your friend’s gaze. Taehyung thought he had never seen you look so dead inside. And he had seen a lot from you. “And he humped like… my lower abdomen for about three minutes and came in his pants.”

Taehyung cringed visibly, taking one hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, man. That’s bad.”

You nodded, strangely relieved at his reaction. Part of you was worried that you were the evil witch in that scenario, that maybe you had done something wrong. “The worst,” you agreed. “Wanna know what else?”

“What? There’s more?”

“He didn’t even ask me if I was satisfied with whatever the hell that was.” You told him, bitterness dripping from your tongue. In the grand scheme of things, that was something silly to get mad over, but the fact that your date didn’t even have the guts to ask if you had gotten something out of that was ridiculous. “Not that I could possibly be. But it’s like he didn’t care and I was just a pillow for him to hump like a… sexually repressed religious teen, I don’t know.”

Taehyung only nodded, realizing that there wasn’t much that he could say to fix the situation. “Was he a good kisser at least?”

You sneered. “I think he was trying to crush my face with his.” You glanced at your friend, only half of his face bathed by the yellow and orange shades coming from the television. Maybe a documentary about ancient history and alien expeditions wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, it would knock you out, and you wouldn’t have to think about that mess anytime soon. “Also, too much tongue, just… the amount of saliva…”

“Got it. You can stop there.” Taehyung raised one hand, his eyes closing for a second. His palm lowered and met one of your knees, standing there in a silent attempt at consolation. “I’m sorry about your terrible date experience, dude.”

“If you could even call it that.” You ran one hand through your hair, suddenly overtaken by a wave of anger. “God! I was just… so… ugh! Like… ughhhh!!”

Taehyung, bless his heart, sometimes couldn’t understand the random neanderthal sounds you threw his way. “So... what?”

At last, your makeshift protection came crumbling down, and you collapsed on the couch dramatically, legs dangling off the edge. Taehyung thought that you were being possessed for exactly two seconds before you started talking again. “I did a full body shave for this night, Taehyung. Do you realize what that means?” His lips fell open, but, before he had the chance to answer, you continued. “It means that I really wanted to get railed tonight. Actually, I wanted to find a guy who actually knew what he was doing for once in my life.”

Taehyung chuckled, trying to disperse the tension in the room. “Come on, the dating pool can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” you said.

He wasn’t giving up that fast. “How bad?”

You raised your head to look him dead in the eyes, a silent threat, before finally uttering, “Try no-man-has-ever-made-me-cum bad,” and crashing your head back against the sofa.

If you weren’t so hyper-focused on your own sexual melodrama, you would have noticed the thick silence that fell between the two of you, Taehyung’s face contorting into fifty different emotions within a few seconds. He thought that he had heard it all — from the secrets hidden in Machu Picchu to the obvious extraterrestrial influence on earthy religion — but no amount of bad documentaries could ever prepare him for that revelation. That didn’t make any sense.

“Wait. Seriously?” He finally found his voice and managed to push his doubt out of his throat. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

You chuckled, humorless. “Oh no, I’ve had plenty of those. Just not from another person.”

“How’s that possible?” he asked.

“I ask myself that every single day.” You sighed, forcing yourself to sit back up. Taehyung was staring at you like you had just grown two extra arms, and you wondered what an amazing sex life he must’ve had for that confession to get him so confused. “Guess I’m just really bad at picking partners, who knows.”

There was a soft grunt on your throat as you fixed your position on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your entire day piling up at once. Your gaze mindlessly traveled to the TV — a big plasma monstrosity that Taehyung had bought compulsively during a Black Friday sale — looking at a white-bearded man pointing maniacally towards a specific, round-shaped hieroglyph. You didn’t even need to hit play to know that he was making it seem like it was an UFO, but curiosity got the best of you.

“Can you pass me the remote?” You asked, pointing at the small device that laid beyond Taehyung’s body. “I kinda wanna see what—”

“I’ve made tons of girls have orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted, looking at you like he had just clicked out of a transe.

You laughed at his monotone voice. “I’m happy for you, Tae.” You leaned over his legs so you could finally reach the remote. “That wasn’t a jab at your masculinity, I’m sure you’re a very caring partner, and I’m sure there’s tons of guys out there that—”

“I can make you cum too, if you want.”

You had just grabbed the small piece of plastic when his sentence hit you like a smack in the face, making you drop the remote back on the couch, eyes widening. “You… what?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, taking one hand to massage the back of his neck. “Did that sound as creepy as I think it did?”

“A bit, yeah.” You forced out a light chuckle, trying to break the ice. There was no sign of mockery in his voice, and you didn’t know how to react. You could not say that the offer wasn’t tempting (you’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive), but his proposal was so oddly-placed that it sounded like a joke. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung sighed, turning his head to look at the television. “I just think it’s really unfair that no one has ever made you cum before.”

You smiled. “That’s very nice of you, but…”

“And I want to help you with that.” He looked back at you. Oh, he was being a hundred percent serious. There was no longer a single ounce of doubt in your mind. “We’re friends, it’s not gonna be weird. We’ve done similar stuff before.”

“We were a lot younger, though.” You didn’t know why your mouth suddenly felt so dry, your fight or flight response kicking at full strength. You could tell that Taehyung was also trying to convince himself about the strangeness of the situation. “It’s gonna be kind of weird, yeah.”

“Not if we don’t make it weird,” he threw back. Was it bad that you were actually considering it? Maybe it was the piled-up exhaustion combined with the years of sexual frustration, maybe you were finally out of your mind. But you were really considering it. “I don’t wanna pressure you, alright? Just making a friendly offer. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.”

You kind of wanted it, though. There was too much accumulated libido inside you from years and years of unsatisfying partners, and you trusted Taehyung with your entire heart. It sounded like a safe enough bet: if all went to shit and it got too awkward, you two could just stop, no hard feelings. Besides, you knew that Taehyung cared about you, which was more than you could say about all your dates in the past couple years.

And the more you stared at him, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, the more you grew soft under his presence. At once, you were hit with desires that you had never considered before: you wanted to kiss those soft lips, wanted to know how his large hands would feel around you. You really, really wanted to know how it was to have a good sexual experience with someone, and you couldn’t think of a better candidate than your best friend. Even if you still thought it could be seen as a little bit weird.

But you also kind of didn’t care.

You licked your lips, finally finding your voice after a long moment of silence. “How… how would you do it?”

Taehyung turned his head and looked at you, noticing the expectation in your eyes. “How would you want me to do it?” He asked.

You tried to think, but your mind was completely blank. What did you want him to do? What did you like? Suddenly you weren’t sure about anything anymore. “I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down.

Taehyung smiled at your nervousness, one of his hands moving to your chin and tilting your head up. “How ‘bout I start by kissing you?” He questioned, gaze flickering to your parted lips. “Is that alright?”

There were no words in your throat, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as he leaned in.

Taehyung’s mouth tasted of vanilla and you thought, even for a moment, that you were in paradise. The second that his tender lips met yours, your anxiety melted away, giving space to a newfound flame of desire. Taehyung kissed you softly, sensually, taking his time caressing your mouth and drowning in your heat. His hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him and leaning your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss.

He sighed heavily into your mouth when your tongues met, his other hand moving to hold your waist. The position on the couch was kind of awkward for kissing, with the two of you sitting side by side, so it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when Taehyung tugged you onto his lap, making you straddle him.

The kiss was starting to get hungrier, messier, a small whimper dying in your mouth when his palms traveled down to cup your ass, pressing you down against his semi-hard cock. Taehyung sighed and groaned at the feeling of you on top of him, loving the way that your fingers played with his hair, your body so perfectly tight against his. If there was any hesitation before, it had completely vanished by that point.

It caught you off guard when he suddenly broke off the kiss to ask you, “Do you like any pet names?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Hm? What?”

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, you want me to call you by something?”

You realized that Taehyung was really taking that personal service to a different level, and you couldn’t say that you were let down by it. If any of your past partners had the dignity to ask what you liked, you wouldn’t be in that position in the first place. “I… like being called ‘baby’,” you told him.

Taehyung smiled. “That’s cute. Baby it is.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Taehyung’s lips were back on yours, a dreamy sigh leaving his mouth as your tongues met once again. Only a few seconds passed before he shifted his weight to lay you down, never breaking the kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, hovering over you. Taehyung started trailing a path of kisses down your neck, his large hands slithering beneath your oversized shirt and caressing the skin of your stomach.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt.

You agreed and, within a heartbeat, that piece of clothing was already on the floor, and Taehyung was diving in to kiss the valley of your naked breasts. You moaned timidly when one of your nipples was wrapped by his lips, his tongue coming out to play with it. Taehyung’s other hand was occupied fondling your other breast, tugging and pressing down on it, and the sensations were taking over your mind.

“You have great tits,” Taehyung mumbled against your skin, switching to mouth your other nipple.

“I’m glad you like them,” you teased, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You were letting out these cute little whimpers that were making him lose his mind. “Feels really good.”

“Yeah?” He asked, moving back to kiss his way up your neck. His tongue was hot and heavy as it danced on your skin, and you knew that those sucks he was giving you were surely gonna leave a few marks on your flesh. But you didn’t really care. “Gonna make you feel even better, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at the pet name — it sounded heavenly when Taehyung used it with his deep, honeyed voice; his warm breath hitting your neck as he continued with his ministrations.

He kissed his way to your cheek, placing a small pec on your lips before saying, “Can you do something for me?”

You nodded. “What is it?”

Instead of responding right away, Taehyung’s gaze fell to your lips, and he was once again attacking them. That time, you weren’t able to hold back the whimper that you let out, your panties already glued against your core with how much he was turning you on.

One of his hands had trailed down your exposed abdomen, teasingly playing with the hem of your shorts. You held your breath when he tugged them down, bringing your underwear with it and throwing them somewhere in the living room. Taehyung grunted loudly when his fingers slipped past your folds, digging into your heat. His brain almost short-circuited because of how wet you were.

He broke the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you to sit on my face, baby,” he said, and his request shot straight to your core. “Let me take care of you, okay?”

“Are you sure?” You asked. You had never done that before.

But Taehyung wasn’t sharing your reluctance. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and eyes darkened. “Wanna taste you so bad. Sit on my face, please.”

And you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Taehyung helped you get up from the couch so he could reposition himself on it, laying flat on his back and watching as you settled yourself above him, thighs on either side of his head. The couch was the exact size for that, a little smaller and you’d have one leg dangling off the edge.

Taehyung took his hands to your thighs, running them up to your hips. His eyes were focused on your pussy, and you never felt so exposed when he started pressing you down lightly, guiding you closer to his mouth.

You held the back of the couch for support and did as he requested, lowering yourself until Taehyung had you flat on his tongue. Your breath trembled and caught in your throat when he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming around the taste before doing it again. Taehyung was an expert at erasing your worries because, with a few more licks, he had you fully losing yourself in his sinful ministrations.

It wasn’t long until you were whining out his name, your folds lazily dragging against his tongue as you started to grind on his face. “God, Taehyung!” You called out, hand coming down to tug at his hair. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through your pussy. “That’s… that’s really nice. You’re really good at this.”

He moaned in response, closing his eyes at your words. Taehyung was eating you out like his mouth was made for it, like he was starving for your taste and you were all that he could think about. He licked you from your entrance to your clit, playing with your sensitive spots and enjoying the tremors of pleasure that ran through your thighs, his hands locked tight around your hips. You sobbed and cried over him, making special effort to keep your legs steady as you rocked yourself on his tongue.

It was only when he decided to suck on your clit that you realized how absurdly close you were. You clenched your teeth and whined out, yanking his hair harder. “Do that again, please,” you asked and Taehyung, like the good friend that he was, was quick to comply. Taehyung wrapped his mouth around your clit in a way that had you trembling over him, licking and sucking on your sensitive nub like his life depended on it. “Fuck, that’s so good, Tae. Feels so good…”

He moaned again, more desperate this time, and some part of your mind understood the pattern that he was presenting you: Taehyung really, really liked your compliments. And you had no problem giving away any more of them.

“You’re licking me so well, Tae, you’re gonna make me cum like this,” you told him, meaning every word you said. Taehyung was a Greek god beneath you, staring up at you with those dark, focused eyes as if he dared you to cum on his tongue. “God! You’re so good for me.”

And then your praises ran thin, because your mind was gravitating somewhere else — seeking for the high that was dangerously close. It was only when Taehyung started toying with your entrance, brushing two of his fingers on it, that you came undone, crying out his name like it was a personal prayer.

There was a smirk on your mouth as you came down, a flooding relief that overtook you. You never thought that you could come so hard in your life, especially when it depended on another person, and you were so, so happy to be wrong that you could cry.

With shaky legs, you removed yourself from Taehyung’s face, straddling his lap and watching as his lips glistened with your arousal. His pink tongue came out to lick them, a hum on his throat as he took in your fucked-out expression.

“You did so well, baby,” he said, placing one of his hands on your waist. “Come here.”

Obedient, you leaned in and sighed as his mouth met yours. This time, Taehyung didn’t wait to eagerly insert his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself on him.

He pulled away leisurely, his voice hoarse. “Can you taste how sweet you are?” He asked. “I loved making you cum on my tongue, baby. You looked so pretty.”

Taehyung breathed out, planting kisses on your neck, one hand trailing down to squeeze your ass. You whined at his tight grip and pressed yourself down on him, feeling his hard cock poking out against the fabric of his sweats.

Taehyung groaned at the stimulation, pressing down on your asscheek again. You rolled your hips on top of him, wincing in sensitivity as his member brushed your clit. “Loved your pussy so much, baby,” he continued, sounding like he was lost in a daydream, “I can’t wait to be inside you. Bet you’d be so tight for my cock, hm?”

“Yeah,” you managed to speak. Even if you had just reached your orgasm, you were still aching to feel something inside you. You wanted Taehyung more than you could understand. “I want you to fuck me, Tae, please.”

He breathed out, his hands tightening around your flesh as you rolled your pussy against his cock once again. Taehyung looked like he was one heartbeat away from completely losing his self control, and hearing you beg for him to fuck you wasn’t doing him any favors. “Gonna need to lie down for me, baby,” he asked.

With a few more shifts on the couch, Taehyung had you beneath him once again, your legs open for him as he removed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t long before his cock sprung free from its confinement, standing erect. You licked your lips at the lustful sight, pussy clenching in anticipation as you took him in — Taehyung was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, that’s for sure; long and thick and already leaking for you.

You would’ve cried out in need if he didn’t interrupt you. “What are you looking at?” Taehyung asked, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips.

Your stare oscillated toward his own. “That’s why you have such a good track record, your cock is huge.” You bit your lip, thinking about how good he would feel inside you. You didn’t know how it was possible, but you were pretty sure the last time you’ve seen his cock — back in the dark ages of your freshman year of college — it wasn’t as big as that. Or maybe you just didn’t have anything to compare it to.

“Hey, I just used my tongue on you, don’t ignore my efforts,” Taehyung teased, wrapping one of his hands around his member so he could pump himself a few times. The playful atmosphere swiftly shifted back, and, when he spoke up again, his voice was deeper. “You think you can take it?”

“Yeah, I can,” you said. You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure going to try.

Taehyung hummed, moving a bit closer so he could brush his tip against your pussy, coating it with your wetness. You closed your eyes in expectation, knowing that you’d love the stretch he would give you.

“You want it?” He asked, a touch of desperation covering his words. Taehyung was nearing his breaking point, and the fluttering of your pussy on his cock was making him go insane. “Want my cock inside your tight little cunt, baby?”

You nodded, frantic. The brushing of his thick tip on your hole was becoming too much, your walls clenching around nothing, seeking for something to fill you up. ��Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.”

“Are you tight for me, baby?” He was trying to prolong that moment for as much as he could, keep the pretty face you made when you pleaded for him to fuck you burned in the back of his head. Making you cum once was a victory he would take forever, but making you cum around his cock might as well be his life’s biggest achievement. “Ready for me to fuck you?”

You cried out when he started pressing himself inside you, guiding his crown inside your pussy, then stopping. “Yes, Tae, just put it all in, please,” you whined, hands fumbling for support on his broad shoulders. Taehyung already had you clenching around nothing, you didn’t know what else he wanted from you. “Please, please, fuck me.”

Taehyung chuckled, looking down at where you two met. He was only human, and his self control was short lived. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Your back arched off the sofa as you felt the delicious drag of his large cock inside you, opening you up gradually, taking its time before filling you up to the brim. You gasped and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling, nails digging on the skin of his back as Taehyung groaned besides your ear.

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He let out a shaky breath, and you swore you never heard his voice get so husky before. “I just slipped right in. You’re so fucking wet.”

Your mind was an apocalypse of confused thoughts and forgotten exclamations, eyes fluttering shut as you dove into the sensation of Taehyung inside you — his hips angling backwards, tilting up just enough so he could move himself away from you core, only to come slamming back inside. The stretch of his cock was amazing, it was making you drunk, and all that you could think about was how much pleasure it was giving you.

“So-So big—“ you muttered, half aware that the words actually left your lips.

“How do you like it, uh?” Taehyung asked, his voice dripping sin and hunger. You could tell that he, too, was getting carried away by the feeling, his hips rutting themselves against you at a lazy pace. “Gonna give it to you any way you want it, baby.”

You bit your lip, a small moan leaving your mouth when Taehyung leaned closer to you, distributing hot kisses on your neck. You swore you’d be happy if you died then. “I like it rough,” you answered.

He groaned, apparently satisfied with your response. “Whatever you want.”

Taehyung got to his knees on the couch, deciding to put one foot on the ground for support, his hands raising your hips to help him reach even deeper inside you. Faster than your brain could compute, the shallow, lazy pace he had sat was being replaced with a harsh, fast pumping that made you cry out his name, eyes closing in sheer bliss.

“Tae! Yes, yes, just like that,” you sobbed, running one hand through your hair. You felt like your body was floating, every cell of your body overheating with the amazing pleasure that Taehyung was giving you. You never had someone fucking you so hard, his cock pistoning inside you, your body bobbing up and down on the couch.

Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the bouncing of your breasts as he continued to fuck you, a deep groan leaving his chest. “That’s it, take it,” he moaned out, quickening his pace even more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth opening in a silent scream. “Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock, baby. Gonna fuck you until you cry. Want that?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you moaned. “Feels so good, Tae.”

“You like my cock, baby? Like it filling you up?” He asked and you could only nod pathetically, your entire body too fucked out to even respond. “F-fuck, your pussy is so good. Tell me that you love my cock.”

“I love your cock,” you whined, feeling like a complete hot mess under his thrusts. “I — fuck! — I love your cock so much, Tae, it’s so big.”

Your words motivated him to fuck you even harder, his member hitting even deeper inside you. Taehyung was getting lost in the stretch of your pussy around him, the glorious sounds you were making, the lust that coated your face every time you called out his name.

“Shit, I don’t know how anyone could look at you like this and not want to see that pretty face cum.” He was breathing out hard, grunting every time your cunt tightened around him. Taehyung wanted to see you like that forever, taking his cock like a good girl, creaming all over him and begging to do it again. You were wrapping around him so perfectly, taking all of him so well, that he didn’t think he’d manage to move on from that anytime soon. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung chased after your high like a starving man looking for food, experimentally changing the angle and force of his thrusts to see what would get the best reaction out of you. At last, after a pathetically loud cry from your part after he raised your legs up, it seemed as if he had found it. “I bet you’d be so tight cumming around my cock, baby,” he was thinking out loud at that point, trying to make sense of the pretty sounds and expressions you were giving him so eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to see you cum — it was personal at that point. “I wanna feel you cum around me, baby. Wanna feel it so bad.”

“I’m c-close.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes closing tightly. There was a light heat in your cheeks and sweat on your forehead that was making Taehyung wonder if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “You’re so good, T-Tae, you’re fucking me so well…”

Taehyung thought that he could cum right then and there, pushed over the edge with those sweet words alone. He loved being good to you, loved making you feel things that no one else managed to before. He was intoxicated by that sense of superiority, drowning in your praise. He wished that he could fuck you forever.

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he pushed you on, his words hanging somewhere between an order and a breathless plea. You were getting so tight around him that it was making him crazy, your wetness coating his cock and dripping down between your legs like his own personal brand of aphrodisiac. “You can do it, come on. I wanna see you cum so bad.”

You smiled at him, a cute, fucked-out smirk that made Taehyung go to heaven and back. “So good for me, Tae, you’re so big,” you said, your voice so needy and high-pitched. Your orgasm was looming over you, pressing down on your lower body and making you see stars. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung got you crying out his name, back arching off the couch and mouth falling open in delirium. “Tae! Fuck! Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—“

But your warning came a second too late, because you were already spasming around his length, body shaking as Taehyung thrusted hard inside you. Just as expected, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous when you came — all quivering lips and rolling eyes —, and Taehyung was beyond satisfied to know that he was the only one who saw that pretty face of yours.

“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Taehyung was starting to feel his own high approaching, called by the delicious tightening and releasing of your pussy around him. His thrusts were messy and harsh; his sweaty hair falling over his eyes like a cascade. “Can I cum inside you, baby? Can I fuck you full of my cum?”

You noticed the desperation in his tone and, with the throbbing of his member inside you, you knew that he wasn’t far. “Yes, please,” you said. “You were so good for me, Tae, you can cum wherever you want.”

And it was that final taste of praise that pushed Taehyung over his limit; waves upon waves of cum filling you up as he rode out his high. “God— fuck!” He cried out, drunk on the feeling of your walls milking the last drops of cum out of his cock. A few lazy pumps later, and he was collapsing on top of you with a mumbled, “F-Fuck.”

There was an instant of silence after his orgasm, the quietude only filled by Taehyung’s heavy breathing. You took one hand to his head, caressing the strands as a smile blossomed on your lips. “Well, I believe you now,” you said playfully. “I’m sure you made a bunch of girls orgasm.”

Taehyung chuckled, breathless. “Thank you, I try,” he said, looking up at you. The darkness in his gaze was gone, and it was just your best friend staring back at you. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you admitted. You never felt so good in your life. “You?”

“Fantastic, thanks for asking.” He leaned back so he could sit up, running one hand through his disheveled hair before saying, “I’m gonna grab you a towel, hang on.”

Taehyung left you for a couple minutes before coming back to clean you up, tenderly wiping away the mess you two had created. After he was done, he discarded the towel on the floor and crawled back to rest on your chest once again.

There was a comforting quietude that floated in the atmosphere, only filled by the muffled buzzing of his freezer and the vague sound of raindrops drumming on the window. You didn’t really know how to deal with that entire situation, didn’t know how things would stay between the two of you. But, at that point, you made the decision to keep those worries for the following morning and, instead, just enjoy his warmth radiating all around you.

The glorious silence, at last, was broken when Taehyung started mumbling against your breasts. “Hey, ___?” He called.

“Yeah?”

“How many dates have you been on?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Ever?”

Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know, like, this past year.”

“Uh… like… five or six? I think?” You answered, looking down to meet his gaze. You knew that wicked expression very well. “Why?”

He smiled. “Because we have a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”

#bts fic #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #bts #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #reader insert #smut #au #taehyung au #bts au

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dialovers-translations · 3 years ago

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Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Carla Dark [10]

[Prologue] [01] [02] [03] [04] [05] [06] [07] [08] [09] [10] [Epilogue]

ー The scene starts in the special classroom

Yui: ( It’s my first time out in quite some time...For some reason, it feels incredibly liberating... )

( I was only allowed outside for a bit and I can’t go to my old classroom...But still, I’m incredibly happy...! )

Carla: Heh...

Yui: ...Is something the matter?

Carla: No. You just are so easy to read.

Yui: Uu. A-Am I?

Carla: I called you simple-minded.

Yui: I’m sorry...

Carla: Enjoy your time outside to your heart’s content. Although I suppose you are aware that you cannot run anywhere.

Yui: Yes...

( I mean, when there’s who-knows-how-many Wolves surrounding the classroom, it sure takes away your will to run... )

Excuse me...Carla-san?

Carla: Yes?

Yui: Can I go to the library?

Carla: ...

Yui: ( I guess that’s a no...I figured it was worth asking since he told me to enjoy my time to the fullest... )

Carla: ーー Why?

Yui: Eh!?

Carla: I am asking your reasoning. Answer me.

Yui: W-Why...? Wellーー

( What answer should I give...? )

Selection

→ I want to do something to cheer me up (♡)

Yui: Um...Well...Because I could use some emotional comfort.

Carla: ...

Yui: Y-You see...Even prisoners are often allowed to indulge in reading.

Carla: I see.

Yui: Therefore...

Carla: Are you a prisoner?

Yui: Ugh...

( I do think my situation is similar but when he puts it like that... )

I’ve spent far too long doing nothing...It’s a struggle...

Carla: That doesn’t answer my question.

Yui: I’m sorry...

Carla: ...

Yui: ( ...I wonder why? He seems to be gazing off into the distance... )

→ Just to kill time

Yui: Just to kill time.

Carla: ...

Yui: ( ...He sighed...I guess he’s upset...? But I couldn’t think of a better response... )

Carla: Dull.

Yui: Eh?

Carla: I believe that your reasoning is dull.

Yui: ( He’s disappointed in me instead... )

Carla: Now that I think about it, the two of us first met at the library, did we not?

Yui: Now that you mention it, we did...

( Back then I had grabbed Macbeth from the shelf...hoping to use it for a school assignment. )

Carla: Did you read Macbeth afterwards?

Yui: Ah, no...You see, I was going to use it for my homework...but it seemed a little difficult, so I changed my mind.

I do know the story.

Carla: I see.

Yui: ( Does he know the book as well? ...I’m a little surprised. )

( I figured he wouldn’t read human literature... )

Carla: Go if you please.

Yui: Eh? Are you sure?

Carla: I do not mind. You cannot escape either way.

Yui: Thank you very much...!

ー Yui leaves the room

Carla: Reading, huh...?

( After being banished to Banmaden, I used reading as a way to kill the sea of time given to me as well. )

( Although I had read books before that in an attempt to learn more about the human psyche as well... )

( After being imprisoned, I spent even more time indulging in literature. )

( ...It might have also been a way to seek emotional support...Although I never thought I would be robbed of my freedom... )

ー The scene shifts to the library

Yui: ( Even though the Wolves are keeping guard in front of the school, it feels so nice to be free...Although I am given time alone at the manor as well. )

( It still feels as if I was being mentally chained down... )

I’ll try and look for a book which I can really take my time with.

( A thick book, huh...? One with a nice story would be... )

Let’s see...

*Creaaak*

ー The screen fades to black

Yui: Eh...!?

( W-What’s happening...!? Someone suddenly restrained my arms behind my back...!? )

???: Quiet...!!

Yui: ( W-Who...!? )

ー The scene shifts to the underground storage room

Yui: ....What do you want!?

Mertz: My sincere apologies...It’s me, Mertz.

Yui: M-Mertz-san...!? Haah, you gave me a scare...

Mertz: I am so sorry. This was the only way I could have a calm conversation with you...

Aah. We should be fine here for a while. Only for a bit though.

I have put up a magic barrier as a distraction. It should keep the Familiars out at least.

Yui: I see...! Anyway, did you make it out alright last time? Shin-kun really did some horrible things to you...

Mertz: Please do not worry. It was no big deal.

Yui: ( Really? He received quite the beating though... )

Mertz: You are so nice, worrying about me.

Yui: Oh no, I’m not...Ah, so what brings you here today?

Mertz: I thought that maybe you had some news.

Yui: I’m sorry...Nothing of importance...

Mertz: I see...

Yui: ( He seems disappointed...Of course he is...If only there was something I could tell him... )

Ah, right. Now that I think about it...This happened the other day but Carla-san suddenly collapsed...

Mertz: Collapsed?

Yui: Yes. In the bathroom, out of nowhere...He also has various bruises across his body...

Carla-san told me not to tell anyone. I believe he doesn’t want others to know...

Mertz: Bruises...? Do you believe Shin-sama might also be unaware?

Yui: I can’t say for sure. But when I entered the room to help him, he immediately latched out at me...

Mertz: Anything else?

Yui: Not really...

Mertz: ...I see. I gained some valuable information. Thank you very much.

Yui: Oh no.

Mertz: I will take my leave before the Familiars catch oーー

Yui: Ah, excuse me...!

Mertz: ...Yes?

Yui: Well...Are the guys...doing well...?

Mertz: Eh?

Yui: Ah...I wonder if it’s strange for me to be worried about them?

( It must be...Of course. I mean, when I stayed with them, I was basically a captive as well... )

( I’m sure none of them are actually worried about me, but I still can’t help but be curious... )

Mertz: It is...not weird. It is very normal for humans to form a bond with those they share a living space with.

Even if you are human, it is only natural for you to be curious about their fate.

Yui: Is it...?

Mertz: Why of course.

Yui: ( Mertz-san is such a nice guy... )

Mertz: About them. While I am not up to date with the latest news.

They are currently staying at Karlheinz-sama’s castle. I also heard that they are terribly worried about you...

Yui: Eh? Worried...!?

Mertz: Yes. That being said, they struggle to be honest with themselves, so they haven’t actually admitted to it up front...

Ayato-sama has been extremely bad-tempered without you around, which has led him to take out his frustration on the Familiars.

Laito-sama...appears to be rather lonely. He has been making advances at the maids even more than usual...

I have actually spotted Shuu-sama wandering around the castle a few times, which is highly unusual. I can only assume he is looking for you.

Aah. Mukami Ruki as well...I heard that he plans to come back here as soon as he sees an opportunity...

However, it appears that both households are currently being limited in when and how often they can leave the castle.

The Eclipse is still ongoing at the Demon World after all...

Vampires become unstable as a result...So they are being cautious to avoid running into trouble.

Yui: ...That sounds very much like them. But you know. I am surprised to hear they are worried about me...

( I wonder if it’s because of the Eclipse? But either way, I’m happy... )

Mertz: Well then, I will get going now.

Yui: ...Thank you very much. Take care!

Mertz: ーー Yui-san.

Yui: Ah, yes?

Mertz: Do not lose hope, okay? Well then.

ー Mertz leaves

Yui: Hope...huh?

( He’s absolutely right... )

*SCENE SHIFT*

Mertz: ーー Good grief. That was so easy. To think she’d actually believe such blatant lies...

It is so easy for me to come up with a story about them. Even if I haven’t actually seen any of it...

Hmph...That being said, where did Carla’s bruises come from...? It seems worth looking into this...

Monologue

I was able to meet up with Mertz-san at the library.

I was relieved to find out his injuries weren’t too severe.

And above all, I was happy to find out,

that the others over in the Demon World (魔界のみんな) are worried about me.

Because Carla-san told me,

that Demons are only making humans believe that the two of them can understand each other,

in an attempt to control them.

While I believed that for a second, and nearly lost all hope,

I’ve been able to overcome said despair thanks to Mertz-san.

If everyone is waiting for me, I should not lose hope (希望).

Besides, I do think it’s possible for us to emotionally connect.

Once again reminded of that, my mind felt stronger than ever.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #carla tsukinami #dark fate #diabolik lovers translation #dfcarladark10

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