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fermented-writers-block · 4 years ago

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PART 1 of 6 of the Owl Deity Hooty Theory

[NEXT PART]

[OWL DEITY HOOTY THEORY MASTERPOST] (in development)

(TLDR at bottom of post)

Over several long months of research and analysis since March of 2020, I have been following an utterly fascinating thread of potential misdirection and subtle details throughout The Owl House, and today, I would like to start weaving together of what I believe could become one of the biggest and most cleverly disguised twists in the entire show.

To begin, let’s take a look at the B plot of Understanding Willow:

On first glance, it’s an ultimately inconsequential sidestory with the sole purpose of justifying an excuse to keep Luz and Amity in Willow’s mind, as well as providing some well-needed room to breathe and release tension after the veryemotionally charged confrontation with Inner Willow. After half an episode of Eda and King outdoing the other in ridiculous ways to win Gus’ vote and Gus running off in frustration at the end of the episode from Hooty’s inane rambling, it’s easy to laugh off Gus’ pick and assume that nothing/of value was said when he closed the door for the interview.

However, if one pays close attention to that very scene, Hooty actually canstill be heard (if faintly) underneath Eda and King’s grumbling, interestingly talking about how “It all started with a hunt. Blood red skies. That’s right, I was created-.”

Now, while it may seem silly to focus on dialogue from Hooty of all characters, this A) tells us that there was an event in the past involving blood red skies and a hunt of some kind, B) that Hooty had been created close to said event, and C) implies that what he knows but can’t tell as a story worth a damn is EXTREMELY important to be included and be hidden in such a manner.

For comparison, the only other instance of dialogue being tucked away in the background in the entire show is in Wing It Like Witches:

During the lecture at the beginning of the episode, the history teacher openswith lore on Belos appointing a head witch to each coven over 50 years ago, immediately cluing in the audience to try and decipher the rest of the lecture as it moves to the background. Adding to this is how the musical sting when Luz shows off her movie obscures what he says even further, making it even more of a intriguing puzzle that the creators clearly intended for viewers to pick up on and attempt to solve.

In contrast, the hidden dialogue of Hooty’s interview is much shorter and not as hard to decipher as the teacher’s history lesson, but at the same time, there are few to no indicators whatsoever in that scene to clue in the audience to even check for something like that. It comes at the end of an episode where most viewers would have been paradoxically tired out and driven abuzz by the revelations of Amity and Willow’s relationship, doesn’t attempt to draw much attention to itself, and frames itself as a comedic subversion of audience expectations with neither the “greatest witch who ever lived” or the self-proclaimed king of demons being picked by Gus.

Instead, he picks someone that the show portrays constantly as an oblivious and gullible idiot after being described as a “state of the art defense system” at the very beginning of the series. Someone who, despite it being played for laughs, is scarily capable of casually subduing Lilith offscreen one episode and then beating her and an entire squad of Emperor’s Coven members without even the slightest change in personality or temperament.

Someone who, due to being the Owl House itself, could be considered the titular character of the entire show, yet is taken for granted by those who inhabit him and barely gets any respect from even the cutely patronized King - including when Hooty could be interpreted as having potentially been full on DEAD for a time given the use of extremely cartoony X eyes and a lack of vital signs in The Intruder.

And someone who Eda at best tolerates and at worst abandons in personal interactions and only occasionally acknowledges him when he’s actually doing his job. Yet at the same time is so implicitly trusted beyondprotecting her home to the point where - when up against the closest person Eda has to an equal outside of likely Belos - the only actually recognizable spells Eda used in combat were 1) stereotypical energy blasts, 2) a single shield spell in Covention, and 3) a noticeably large reliance on imitations of Hooty above any other spells she could have decided to use instead.

In short, the show repeatedly tells us he is just an idiotic gag character through and through, but at the same time demonstrates he has immense power through both onscreen and offscreen demonstrations, implicitly tells us his importance ahead of time through Eda’s imitations in actually serious situations, and treats his interview and origin story as - if not even more- important to keep secret than a long lore dump about how Belos’ reign works.

After all, there being only two instances of hidden background dialogue in the entire season is already intriguing on its own, but for one to get plenty of clues to draw in people’s attention and for the other to be treated as just another gag about a “mere comic relief character” - aka a good way to draw away attention and lower one’s guard - heavily suggests a far deeper significance buried under layers of misdirection, comedy, and conditioned audience expectations.

I mean, when Eda bragged about being “a bad girl living in a secret fortress,” Hooty followed with a remark about how “I’m the secret.” While that line may sound like Hooty simply being confused as part of a one-off on the surface, it’s an odd dialogue choice for the writers to pick when you think about all the other reminders of his nature as the house itself throughout the season. With the precedent these moments set, it would have been much more appropriate for him to latch onto the “fortress” side of “secret fortress” AND it would have been just as equally funny of a joke about his awareness skills, but instead, Hooty broke away from the established trend to say something that would make people suspicious were it to come from anyone else.

In a way, this reminds me much of the many subtle bits of foreshadowing strewn across the show, like Luz unknowingly describing Amity in Witches Before Wizards and Eda burning a hole through Luz’s coven type quiz that coincidentally selected the same track she had taken at Hexside as “a punky potionist.” At the time of airing, these initially seemed like one-off jokes, but eventually came back in full force several episodes later with Amity’s hidden sensitive feelings and love for the Azura books becoming clear in Lost in Language, and the reveal of Eda’s school track in Something Ventured, Someone Framed with her school misdemeanor pictures.

That said, compared to these individual bits of minor foreshadowing, the jokes about Hooty in Understanding Willow appear to simply be the most obvious pieces in a giant puzzle, implicitly and outright telling attentive viewers that there’s a major mystery to be uncovered here.

In fact, I feel bold enough to say that we could be looking at a twist on a similar scale to that of the Pink Diamond/Rose Quartz and Stanford Pines twists in Steven Universe and Gravity Falls respectively, what with this particular puzzle piece coming from how Gus wanted to make THE greatest interview of all time, and how he was looking for someone who was “interesting, accomplished, AND noteworthy:”

Note the emphasis on the ‘and’ here, as Gus had made a big deal that “people aren’t meantto be all those things” at the beginning of the episode, so as a result, stripping away all the comedic framing of his subplot leaves the intriguing implication that whoever - and, perhaps, what- Hooty is, they really are the most interesting, accomplished, AND noteworthy person out of everyone.

I could go further and talk about why I suspect the mystery surrounding King’s origins, whether true or not, is partially meant to misdirect us from paying attention to Hooty, or how the TOH crew’s could be disguising legitimate clues to his nature among made up and highly meme-able joke answers in order to proliferate said concepts throughout the fandom - thus letting us do all the dirty work of getting ourselves used to the ideas and used to dismissing them at the same time - but to bring things to a close for now, I’d like to leave you all with a question that I’ll start answering next time:

What does it mean when both the most powerful and notorious witch on the Boiling Isles and the possible actual king of demons/the Titan itself/something don’t match up to a house? And what do you think it is that makes him so special to warrant such misdirection?

TLDR: Between Eda’s golem spells, the show stressing his nature as the titular house, his implicit strength, and the odd dialogue and structure of Understanding Willow‘s subplot in relation to him, I believe I have good reason to suspect the show has been giving us many hints towards Hooty being much, much more important than it would like us to currently believe or even joke about. Particularly, through clever uses of comedy to establish and enforce a strong audience bias against looking closely at him or unironically taking him seriously, and to potentially plant the seeds for something I will start exploring in Part 2.

#the owl house #the owl house theory #owl house theory #the owl house speculation #toh theory #the owl house hooty #toh speculation #owl deity hooty theory #long post

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my-bated-breath · 4 years ago

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On Ideals and Idealization

OR: My-Bated-Breath’s interpretation of Aang and Katara’s relationship in The Southern Raiders

When Bryke said that Kataang was in the DNA of ATLA, it was not a complete lie - Katara and Aang, in many ways, are each other’s anchors. For Katara, Aang is hope revived, the Avatar that has come to restore balance to the world. Meanwhile, for Aang, Katara is his guide in a cruel and unfamiliar 100-year war, loving him unconditionally in a world that hates him for abandoning it. As a result, Aang naturally loves her in return.

The narrative itself suggests that Aang’s love for Katara is nearly divine (and it suggests that it’s a love so blinding that it becomes his most selfish attachment). But for a love that appears so pure and untouchable on the surface, the episode “The Southern Raiders” reveals countless fractures lying underneath the surface.

Aang loves Katara, yes, but he is in love with an idealized version of her. In his mind, he holds close the idea of a gentle Katara, a smiling Katara, a compassionate and all-loving Katara. Even though he has seen her darkest moments when she bloodbends Hama - arms bent in disjointed angles, fingers curled as if manipulating puppet strings - it does not tarnish his image of her because, at this moment, she is not the persecutor, but the persecuted.

After her experience with Hama, Aang is there to comfort her and help her come to terms with the terrifying power she now possesses. With her face streaked with tears and eyes widened with horror, it is clear that this is a power that Katara does not want, that it has been thrust onto her against her own will.

The conclusion that Aang draws from this is that Katara’s inner darkness is a separate entity from her inner light, and he perceives this acquired part of her as a blemish on her inherent goodness. As such, in “the Southern Raiders,” when he witnesses how Katara’s anger and grief drive her to hunt down her mother’s killer, he equates Katara seeking closure to Katara succumbing to darkness, tainting her purity and compassion in the process.

Dialogue from The Southern Raiders

Katara: Ugh, I knew you wouldn't understand.

Aang: Wait! Stop! I do understand. You're feeling unbelievable pain and rage. How do think I felt about the sandbenders when they stole Appa? How do you think I felt about the Fire Nation when I found out what happened to my people?

Many have stated valid reasons why Aang cannot possibly understand Katara’s pain in this scenario - he was not there to witness his people’s genocide or the theft of Appa; he has no way of confronting those who were responsible for his loss - but perhaps the reason why Aang thinks that he understands Katara’s pain should be expanded upon as well. As stated before, Aang has seen how bloodbending is a power Hama forced Katara to learn and how “bloodbender” is an identity unwillingly pushed onto her.

Maybe, in the same way that Aang believes that he knows Katara’s pain, he believes that he knows Katara’s inner conflict as well. After all, to take on an unwanted power and identity is something he knows all too well.

Dialogue from The Avatar Returns

Katara: Why didn’t you tell us you were the Avatar?”

Aang: Because… I never wanted to be.

When the sandbenders stole Appa, Aang succumbed to the Avatar state. When he found out what the Fire Nation did to his people, Aang succumbed to the Avatar state. In the Avatar State, Aang forfeits control over himself, loses sight of his pacifistic nature, and in return, he gains the power to hurt the people he cares about.

Aang enters the Avatar State in times of desperation and, as he alludes to in his dialogue, in times of anger. So to see Katara express her rage in The Southern Raiders scares Aang - no, it terrifies Aang - because he is seeing Katara is “giving in” to her own Avatar State, one where she has no control over herself and loses sight of her compassionate nature.

Dialogue from The Southern Raiders

Zuko: She needs this, Aang. This is about getting closure and justice.

Aang: I don't think so. I think it's about getting revenge.

Katara: Fine, maybe it is! Maybe that's what I need! Maybe that's what he deserves!

Aang: Katara, you sound like Jet.

To be impassioned in her search for her mother’s killers is to be impassioned in her search for revenge, and to want revenge against a war criminal is to want to attack the innocent. As soon as Katara descends into violence, she will slide down the slippery slope where she will become Jet, where she will become Hama.

Only morality is not quite as black and white as Aang depicts it to be, and Katara’s psychology is not as similar to Aang’s as he believes to be. While Aang views Katara’s compassion and rage as a dichotomy in her character (meaning that they are mutually exclusive) or as an internal conflict of good versus evil, in truth Katara’s compassion and rage can often be described as a reciprocatory relationship where one drives the other. I expand upon this concept in much more detail in this meta, but here I will simply quote an excerpt and summarize:

Excerpt from “Rage, Compassion, and the Bridge in Between” (give this a read if you want an analysis on how Katara’s rage and compassion embody the complexity of human emotion)

“…Katara’s anger and compassion do not simply split themselves into two identities. Instead, they coexist and coalesce into one. They drive each other; they feed into each other; they are two sides of the same coin.”

Katara’s rage fuels her compassion because her relationship with grief and anger is what allows her to sympathize with other people’s grief and anger, which is why she shares the story of her mother’s death with Aang, Haru, and Jet. Then, to quote again from my meta, “Katara’s compassion is what grants her a protective instinct, and her protective instinct is what moves her anger and violence.” To clarify, Katara’s protective violence describes her frightening Fire Nation soldiers in order to protect the Jang Hui village in “The Painted Lady” and her threatening Zuko in order to protect Aang in “The Western Air Temple.”

Thus, to Katara, rage is not always an emotion that causes her to lose sight of herself. Instead, it’s one that incites her to act on her ideals of justice and protection.

Dialogue from the Southern Raiders

Katara: It's not the same! Jet attacked the innocent. This man, he's a monster.

Of course, that is not to say that Katara’s anger does not lead her to violate her morals since she bloodbends the captain of the Southern Raiders despite her previously swearing to never bloodbend again. But while the Southern Raiders shows Katara coming to terms (or at least beginning to come to terms) with the idea of good and bad, justice and revenge, and right and wrong, Aang stalwartly clings onto the notion of two separate “Katara”s - the good and evil, the compassionate and the rage-driven - and unfairly takes on a position of moral authority against the “dark” Katara in hopes of reviving the “light” one.

Excerpt from “On an Immensely Popular Post” (most of the analysis in this one is about platonic-romantic relationships, but I dissect the Aang-Sokka-Katara dialogue from TSR in-depth here):

“While I believe that Aang’s principles of forgiveness are morally sound, the way he pushes his beliefs onto Katara undermines much of her grief. At first, Aang tries to relate to Katara’s experiences by comparing them to his own, but there is a forceful connotation to his dialogue that suggests that Aang considers himself to be the moral authority compared to Katara. Hence, Aang judges Katara (“I think it’s about getting revenge”) without trying to reach out and understand her, forgoing the empathetic common ground in favor of taking on the moral high ground.”

Aang forgoes the common ground because he believes Katara’s morality to be as black and white as his own, and then he takes on the high ground because he thinks he understands Katara’s internal conflict. Except he doesn’t, since what rage means to Aang is vastly different from what rage means to Katara. What he understands as Katara’s ideals stem from his idealization of her, and this crack in their relationship, this masquerade of misunderstandings and attachment and “falling in love” - it all comes to a breaking point in the Southern Raiders where the truth finally makes itself known:

Aang idealizes Katara by rendering her into a dichotomy. Katara draws the agency to act on her ideals from her duality.

#atla #atla meta #katara #katara meta #anti kataang #anti kataang meta #my bated breath analyzes #my bated breath's posts #this is what we mean when we say aang idealizes katara #or at least this is what i mean #also it's 12:47 AM and I'm tired

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thebakingqueen5 · 3 years ago

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KW 2021: The Sea & The Sky

Day 7 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt The Sea & The Sky!

Don't mind me crying in the corner that Kataang Week is basically over, but anyways I'm super proud of this last oneshot and hope you all enjoy it!

Links: AO3 | FF.net

Summary: Another year, another, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 7: The Sea & The Sky. Katara was the sea, Aang was the sky, destined to meet at the horizon where they were bound together for all eternity.

Word Count: 1.7K (barely)

The sea and sky, two entities as old as time itself. In some ways, as contrasting as the night and day, and in others, perfect reflections of one another.

The sea has always been below the sky, left to gaze upon the brilliance of the celestial bodies embedded in it for all eternity and reflecting the light of the bright stars beyond.

The sky has always been above the sea, forever peering down into its depths for the miracles and mysteries hidden beneath, and guiding its steady waves as they crash upon the shores of the Earth.

The sea is the reason the azure sky is adorned with feathery white wisps floating high above the ground, and the sky, in turn, fills the oceans and floods the rivers with the very liquid that makes survival possible.

The sea fosters life beneath its steady, undulating surface. It holds flora and fauna of all shapes, colors, and sizes, and it was a point of fascination for the sky. The sky, in all its glory, could not sustain anything for long. Even the birds that rode over its swift breezes had to eventually land somewhere below. And yet, the sky was free, a vast expanse of space that extended beyond what the sea could ever imagine to be possible. It wasn’t shackled by the chains of the planet, and the sea almost envied it.

In the days of old, when sailors ruled the seas, the ocean and her gentle waves would push them across great stretches of nothingness, while the sky and his stars would aid in guiding them on their journeys. Without the sky, those explorers would be lost at sea, and without the sea, their ambitions would remain sky-high with their dreams of traveling the world doomed to remain just that- dreams.

The sea and the sky have always been connected. Together, they make a thriving world possible. And so it follows that those so closely bonded to their elements, Aang and Katara, would be similarly linked by the fabric of space and time.

Though he was the Avatar, Aang’s native element was that of air. He preferred to soar on his glider high above the clouds, and gravity was a laughable concept to him. True to his airbending disposition, Aang’s natural inclinations were to evade conflict and obstacles in order to move forward, like a leaf on the wind.

Katara was born in the Southern Water Tribe, surrounded by ice, glaciers, and the frigid seas of the South Pole. She wielded the element of water, adapting and accepting things as they came since water was the element of change. She would experience swells of emotion similar to the waves, but she always came down into a steady balance, an ebb and flow just like tides.

Aang and Katara were not each other’s antithesis, far from it actually, but rather each other’s complements. Had they been such stark opposites, their relationship would’ve been much more turbulent, having the highest of highs but also the lowest of lows. They needed not a sharp contrast but rather a soft blend to allow them to communicate with and learn from one another. It was this that allowed them to work so well.

When Katara was firm and unyielding like a tsunami approaching the shore, Aang accepted her stance and often strengthened it. Consequently, if the airbender was flighty and indecisive, Katara would be there to ground him and guide him to something he felt confident in.

Katara was Aang’s earthly tether. When his head drifted up into the clouds, she pulled him back to the real world and allowed him to guide the four nations into an era of peace and prosperity. On the other hand, Aang showed Katara true freedom and what being unrestrained felt like. He brought her up with him on his glider and taught her to defy nature’s laws, to not be afraid to take exhilarating risks, and to keep her ambitions sky-high.

Their worlds collided like the brilliance of colors created as the sun set over the horizon, gradually leaving the realm of the sky and sinking into the sea. Some of their traits reflected each other like the sun’s rays on the sparkling surface of the water, and the others melded together well to make the glorious gradient that streaked the sky as night fell. Together, Aang and Katara created a rich harmony filled with overtones that mirrored the depth of their connection.

When they first met, that instant link, the bond that tied them together, was remarkably evident to all those around them. It was absolutely undeniable.

Though Sokka had mostly been joking when he had called Aang Katara’s boyfriend, there were still some astute observations lying under his exaggerated comment. Sokka knew his sister. She didn’t take to people too well, he had noticed over the years. Katara was protective, almost overly so, of the people she loved, and it was hard for her to let people in.

And yet here was Aang, a boy whom she had quite literally taken into her open arms without so much as a blink of hesitation, a boy whom she was ready to leave her tribe, everything and everyone she had ever known, and travel across the world for. It seemed so out of character. Katara didn’t usually make sense to her brother, but this was something different, something special.

Even Gran Gran had taken notice of the unique energy between them. “Aang is the Avatar,” she had told the Water Tribe siblings. “He is the world's only chance. You both found him for a reason. Now your destinies are intertwined with his,” and she was right.

That day, Aang and Katara had forged a connection that wouldn’t, that couldn’t, ever be severed. Breaking him out of the iceberg had been the catalyst for the rest of their lives together. Their adventures following only served to deepen and strengthen that link, allowing them to fall wholly and completely for one another and experience a love they didn’t know was possible.

Visiting Aunt Wu was the first time Katara had really stopped to consider how far their bond went and the strength of her feelings for Aang. She knew they had something unique, something exceptional, but she hadn’t ever thought it could run that deep. “The man you’re going to marry… I can see that he is a very powerful bender.” It made sense, didn’t it? The boy who had changed her life for the better would grow to be the man that she would spend the rest of her life with.

Their kiss in the Cave of the Lovers only further cemented the idea in her head, and a part of her began to believe that their meeting was fate, just like the tale of Oma and Shu. Aang, while still reeling from embarrassment at some of his words (“I’m saying I’d rather kiss you than die, that’s a compliment!”), also began to have similar thoughts, thinking that maybe they too had parallels to the starcrossed lovers and that the love that they shared would one day too be immortalized in legend.

The battle in the catacombs underneath Ba Sing Se seemed like an all too abrupt end to their story. It simply didn’t feel real. How could their link just have been cut off like that? No, Katara wasn’t ready to accept it. She couldn’t accept it. It went against the laws of the universe, it wasn’t possible.

She was going to do whatever it took to keep him there with her, and she did. She brought Aang back from the spirit world through the purest of love, light, and determination, and she made it her duty to never let such a thing happen again.

It was what allowed them to fulfill their roles as the Avatar and his waterbending master at Sozin’s Comet and have their kiss afterward, the early buddings of a relationship that would last a lifetime. Years later, they would go on to pronounce that love to all their friends and family, but, for now, they were more than just their fates.

Just as Aang was able to manipulate water along with his primary element of air, the heavens held clouds in its vast expanse of sky, connecting it to the sea. The sea sent water up in the form of vapor to create those fluffy masses above, and the sky releases the water that the clouds hold in torrents of rain back down to the ground, tying the two together in an endless cycle.

Similarly, waterbending was one of the many things that bound Aang and Katara. It was the reason they had met, the reason Katara was able to break Aang out of that iceberg, and it was the reason they embarked on their epic journey to the North Pole- to learn from the masters and even become ones themselves.

Waterbending linked them as sifu and pupil, strengthening their bond. Without waterbending, Aang may have never realized that fateful day of her adjusting his form of the effect she had on him, the full intensity of the pull, the attraction she held in his eyes.

Waterbending had made Katara especially attuned to the rhythm of the waves rising and falling, and it didn’t long for her to notice how her and Aang’s dynamic reflected it, ebbing and flowing in a delicate yet harmonious balance.

Their meeting had been fate, an event necessary for the survival of the world itself, but that did not define them. With each other, they were not their destinies. They were not the Avatar and his waterbending master, nor were they the beacon of hope for the future of the Air Nation.

No, they were Aang and Katara, two people who had defied all odds, overcome all obstacles, and quite literally gone to the Spirit World and back all in the name of love. They were not the heroes who had saved the world, but soulmates, fated just as the sky and the sea were to meet at their own horizon. They were two people irreversibly linked to each other then, now, and till the end of time itself.

#kataang week #kataang week 2021 #kataangtag #kataang #kataang fanfic #the sea and the sky #aang #katara #aang x katara #atla fanfiction #soulmates #bc yes

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firefly-in-darkness · 5 years ago

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Misconceptions - 7/12

Characters: Y/N, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Marcus (OC).

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Series Summary: Bucky Barnes overhears a conversation that he shouldn’t have… and now he regrets his reaction…

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Angst, jealousy…

Beta: The always lovely, Stacey - @princessmisery666 // all mistakes are my own.

A/N: So this is a slightly longer part, of course, there is more angst and insecurities in this one, it’s not coming up to the surface just yet but this pair might, just might be stepping in the right direction...

Catch up with the series here: Misconceptions Series List

Return to Firefly’s Library & Masterlist

Previously: Marcus’ cheeks dusted a light pink and Y/N was glad she hadn’t lost her touch. Maybe that only applied to the Super Soldier. Her charm and flirting seemed to have caught Marcus’ attention, so maybe it wasn’t her after all. He punched in the number and called his phone, the little chime from his pocket confirming it had gone through. Handing it back to Y/N just as Sam jogged over to them.

“Are you ready to get your ass whooped, Y/N?” he chuckled, giving her a toothy grin.

Y/N tilted her head with a mischievous pout, “Oh boy, someone’s had their cocky pills today.”

Y/N did a last-minute touch up on her deep red lipstick, catching a slight smear in the corner with the tips of her fingers. With a blend and pout, she laughed at her reflection and tousled her hair to give it less of a rigid look. She hadn’t been this excited about going out with a guy in a long time; he was attractive, had a similar sense of humour and she didn’t have to pretend to be someone else.

Dating while also being a spy was tough, especially when it came down to disappearing without a trace for weeks on end. After a few years and a certain Super Soldier came into her life, she gave up on dating. She focused on one-night stands, or a short fling with no potential to quiet the thoughts of her and Bucky Barnes ever being more than friends.

And tonight, was not going to be any different, except this had potential, it could lead to something more. She shook her head and rolled her eyes - she was getting ahead of herself -grabbing the leather jacket off the hook.

Walking to the full-length mirror, Y/N fastened the belt looped through the black skinny jeans, pulling the blouse slightly out of its tucked state. Once her jacket was on, she grabbed her small handbag, checking its contents and exhaling a deep breath.

She strutted through the hallway and into the elevator, hitting the button to take her to the basement. The doors chimed, and she walked out into the underground parking lot to find Marcus leaning against a black Audi R8. A sweet smile bloomed across his face and he opened the car door for her. The heels of her boots clicked on the concrete, and with a reciprocating smile, she eased into the passenger seat.

Sam lounged on the couch, one arm resting along the back of the seat. His attention was captivated by the film playing on the large screen until he was interrupted by the second most irritating person on the planet, second to Spider-Man.

“What do you want Tin Man?” His head rolled to the side.

Bucky had been pacing up and down the corridor, and after a few minutes, it had grated on Sam’s last nerve. He tapped the remote, the movie paused. The super soldier charged into the room and sat on the footstool, blocking the view of the television. Sam glared at him; cheeks dusted pink, his bottom lip chewed raw, eyes skittish.

His eyebrows pulled together and he leant forward, “What’s up Bucky?”

“Have you seen Y/N? She’s not in her apartment. She’s not answering my texts. Or calls.”

“She’s on a date with Marcus.” Sam picked up the remote and shuffled back to get comfortable again.

“She doesn’t hang-” Bucky’s eyes widened, “She’s on a what?”

“A date man, you know those things that people do when they find someone they’re attracted to. They go out for drinks or dinner, maybe even just meet up for sex. You never know with Y/N.” Sam chuckled and played the movie again.

“But aren’t you dating her?”

Sam screwed up his face in disgust, “What the hell man? No, that’s gross! That’s almost incestuous.”

Bucky felt like his head and heart were going to explode. Y/N wasn’t dating Sam. Sam wasn’t dating Y/N. Y/N was on a date with Marcus. Who the fuck was Marcus? Bucky cursed himself and collapsed onto the seat beside Sam, a hand dragging down his face. I’m such an idiot.

Sam flicked off the television, “What made you think that?”

“The night Y/N was taken, hostage. Well, I kinda overheard your conversation on the phone. There’s no kinda about it. I heard you two talking and I may or may not have got jealous which resulted in me overreacting.”

Sam’s brow furrowed once more, “What exactly did you overhear?”

“Well, she wished you were there, that you were driving her crazy and that she loved you.” Bucky gruffed, “Then I saw the picture you have of her on your phone. And then you were all protective and wouldn’t let me see her.”

Sam sat up straighter and turned to him. “You’re both a pair of idiots. She wished I was there because she gets too wrapped up in you. She would do anything for you, and you wouldn’t even have to ask.”

Bucky’s mouth gaped and he stuttered just as Sam raised his hand, a stern looks on his face.

“She was telling me what she’d say to you. If you had given her the chance to tell you how she felt. Damn, she drives me crazy, talking about how crazy you drive her.” Sam shook his head, “We do love each other, like family. That’s why I didn’t let you see her straightaway. Not only was she held hostage, but you also dangled that woman in front of her, brought her back to the suite and showed Y/N that you didn’t care about the mission or her safety in the slightest.”

Bucky huffed, “I wasn’t dangling anything, I was trying to get my mind off Y/N and you two being more than friends. I didn’t do it to be an asshole, Sam.”

Sam glared at him, “Well you ended up being one anyway. Maybe next time, you should both talk to one another. Because I am not having this conversation with you both again and her crying to me or coming up with excuses to avoid you. You’re supposed to be adults, act like it and use your damn words.”

Bucky spoke to himself, “So I should tell her how I feel?” He leapt up from the sofa, “Thanks, Sam.” His appreciation echoed down the corridor as he raced back to his room, a plan forming in his mind’s eye.

Y/N hiccupped around the rim of her wine glass before she held it out with a harder wave than she intended, the liquid sloshing around “And that was the day that I realised I loved James fuckin’ Buchanan Barnes. So, now it’s your turn. Tell me about your crush.”

Marcus chuckled, knocking back the dregs in the bottom of the pint glass. “It’s this girl I’ve known since college. I don’t know if she’s interested though.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, a sad pout on her face, “Aww Marcus. Why aren’t you out there- y’know, courting her? Have you seen yourself? What is there not to like!”

“I dunno, but I could say the same about you.” Marcus raised his eyebrow, pointing at her with the empty glass. “Another?”

Y/N nodded, a huge grin on her face as she watched Marcus head back over to the bar. She sank down into the booth and giggled to herself. She clamped her hand over her mouth. Only I could go on a date with a guy that fancies someone else. A glass of wine appeared in front of her and Marcus slid back into the seat opposite.

Marcus’ face suddenly lit up. “This might be a little crazy, but do you wanna go dancing?”

“Yes!” Y/N fist bumped the air, “we can try that club Marquee, I’ve always wanted to go there.”

Bucky had almost worn away the carpet in his apartment with his pacing, waiting for Y/N to return home from her date. He was hoping to catch her before she went to sleep but as the clock ticked by, negative thoughts began to niggle at the back of his mind. What if she likes him? What if she kisses him? No, she wouldn’t do that. But then again, she might go back to his place?

A deep sigh filled the space, and with eyes closed, he tried to clear his mind. It’s just nerves right? As he inhaled for a few seconds, he heard the familiar sound of Y/N’s footsteps padding down the hallway outside. In a flash, he’d opened his door and tentatively stepped out to find her swaying from side to side, attempting to open her own door.

As he approached, he spotted the jacket hanging loosely around her shoulders. That’s not hers. Then she flashed him that bright smile, he spotted the way her lipstick was nearly non-existent, her hair wilder than ever. His heart dropped to his stomach at the thought of Y/N with another man, he’d never worried before until now.

“Heeeey Barnes.” Y/N whisper shouted as he came closer.

His heart thumped against his chest; the sweet smile she threw his way made him grin back.

“Need a hand?” Bucky gestured to the door, obliging with her little nod.

She stumbled through the door, kicking off her boots at the same time. For a moment, she paused, relishing in the plushness of the carpet underneath her feet, “Well are you coming in or are you just gonna stand there?”

Bucky followed Y/N into the room, his plan now completely out the window. “You okay doll?”

She shrugged out of the jacket, “Yeah, just happy! And maybe a little bit drunk.”

Without hesitation, Y/N lifted her blouse over her head. Her breasts, held in white lace, were on full display. Bucky’s eyes didn’t explore her bare skin but spun around to face the other way. His heart thumped in his chest. What the hell is she doing? His thoughts were cut off by a huff and whine.

“Buck, help.”

He turned around to see the blouse half off her body, one arm out, face covered by the material, “What on earth-?”

“One of the buttons is caught in my hair.” Her free hand dropping to her side with a slap.

Bucky knew she’d rolled her eyes; he didn’t need to see her face to know that. He guided her to the edge of the couch. Encouraged her to sit down and sat beside her, he began untangling the strands that had gotten caught. Bucky breathed in the sweet scent of Y/N’s perfume; he could feel the warmth radiating off her skin. He was intoxicated by her.

“Are we friends Buck?” Y/N whispered. He wouldn’t have heard it if he didn’t have the serum pumping through his veins.

“Of course, we are.” Bucky untangled the last piece and lifted the blouse.

Y/N turned to face him. “So why don’t you want to spend time with me anymore?”

“We spend nearly every day together,” Bucky’s stomach dropped, his loss of control in this situation gnawed at his esteem.

Y/N climbed out of the seat and marched into the bathroom. Bucky sat on the couch frozen for a moment then wandered over to Y/N’s drawers, picking out her pyjamas. With a light tap on the door, she opened it and collected the items without a word. He knew she wasn’t happy, that he had made things worse and he didn’t know how to fix them.

Y/N stared into the mirror, her make up now washed away and her hair thrown messily into a hairband. In the time it had taken Bucky to untangle her hair and for her to put her bed clothes on, she’d sobered up and her mind raced with embarrassment. Come on Y/N, you can do this. It’s only Bucky, talk to him. She pulled her shoulders back, standing tall and confident then marched out the room, turning off the light to find him perched at the end of her bed.

Bucky looked up immediately, “So are you going to tell me how your date went?”

Her head tilted to the side, a slight frown at the hint of malice in his words and joined him on the bed. “It was a good night; it was what I needed.”

She caught the ragged inhale beside her, the slight clench to his fist as his arm whirred to life. Is he jealous? No way, he’s not interested in me like that but, just maybe. Y/N shook away her thoughts and turned to face him, her leg tucked beneath the other, her knee brushing against his thigh. Her heart hammered but she remained as calm as she could as she felt the warmth radiating from him.

“We got drunk and danced the night away.” She waited for him to turn around, but there was no reaction, his eyes remained on his fingers woven together.

Bucky stood up; his jaw clenched. “And then you went back to his?”

Y/N’s stomach dropped at the animosity in his words. “So, what if I did?”

“I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else! Laughing like we used to, hanging out every weekend. And being each other's person. You’re my person.” Bucky raise his voice, his chest heaving with anger.

“Well we haven’t exactly been talking a lot lately.” She stood in front of him, arms crossed.

Bucky’s voice was softer, “That’s because I thought-”

Y/N held up her hand to interrupt him, “You know what? I’ve had a really good night. I do not want to ruin it by fighting with you, so can we stop?”

Bucky rubbed the nape of his neck, eyes locked on hers and wondering whether to push the conversation further or not.

Y/N didn’t give him a chance to decide, “Actually, I’m asking you to leave.”

Bucky’s stomach dropped, “What? Can’t we talk about this?”

Y/N couldn’t face him, she still had alcohol in her system and the memories of Bucky sweet talking that woman into bed that night rushed to the forefront of her mind, the tears she had cried afterwards and the vow she made not to cry over him again.

She shook her head and shoved at his chest, though she knew he wouldn’t budge until he moved on his own volition. The anger boiled in her veins. How dare he?! He had no claim over me. She pulled back, stepping away from him.

“Leave, right now! You have no right to be like this.” She gestured up and down, “You don’t get to act like this because someone is interested in me.”

Y/N refused to confess how the date had really gone, his reaction was enough to cement the idea that Bucky thought nothing more of her than someone he could use to make himself feel better. There wasn’t even friendship there anymore.

Bucky sighed, dragging his hand down his face, “It’s not like that. Y/N, I’m-”

“Save it. For the last time, get out.” She didn’t even look up at him as she walked over to the door and opened it

Bucky followed her request, guilt washing over him at the anger and hurt on her face. He turned around to attempt at another apology but was greeted with the door shutting in his face.

Continue Here...

Everything Taglist: @reann-loves-sebstan

Misconceptions Taglist: @supraveng / @iheartsebastianstan / @jessyballet / @likeit-or-leaveit / @inspocollective-blog / @ladifrickinda / @wintersoldierissucharide / @michelehansel / @danietoww04 / @booboobella01 / @thefandomimagines / @justreadingfics / @socalgem1124 / @a--1--1--3 / @notyourtypicalrose / @winterboobear11 / @justlovelifeblog / @polireader / @hailmary-yramliah / @rainbowkisses31 / @gooddaykate / @moonybarnes / @samthemarvelfan / @unlikelygalaxygiver / @youaremyfiveever / @hennessy0274-blog / @hola-mishamigos-its-marvel-time / @babydollofbarnes / @bonkywobble / @weird-mumbling / @mela-nichen / @beardburnsupersoldiers

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes Fic Series #Bucky Barnes Fic #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes Fanfic #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction #Bucky Barnes Angst

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commander-diomika · 3 years ago

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Pairing: Zolf Smith/Cel Sidebottom Word Count: 2100 Rating: Mature Additional Tags: Spanking, Asexual Character, Non-Sexual Kink, Kink Negotiation, RQG kinktober, Kinktober 2021, Aftercare Prompt: Spanking Summary: Cel has a favourite method of stress relief that they haven't indulged in awhile. Zolf seems like the kind of person who would be able to help. Notes: Trans feminine non binary Cel coz why not? You know they've got the potions to make just about anything work.

Cel has always admired Zolf’s hands. Like a miniature of his stature, they were broad, probably twice the breadth of Cel’s slender ones, and yet there was something so deft and gentle about them. The way that Zolf tied a complex knot, or kneaded dough, held a certain fascination for them.

“I wanted to ask something from you, Zolf. A favour, probably, and I know you like helping people but I don’t want you to feel like you have to say yes but I was just thinking that if y-”

Zolf held up one of those delightful hands and Cel stopped. “I’m listenin’, Cel. What can I do for you?”

“There’s this thing, that I like, it’s sort of a stress relief thing, and I haven’t had a chance to do it in a long time and I know you would be very good at it-”

“Cel. Specifics, please? I can’t say yes ‘r no if you don’t tell me what you’re askin’.”

Cel took a sharp breath in, their eyes bright and guileless, “I’d like you to spank me.”

Zolf looked momentarily poleaxed. Wherever he might have guessed this was going, that was NOT it.

“But I want to say, it’s not a sex thing. It’s honestly just,” they fluttered their hands as if extrapolating, “-nice! And I came to you because I know that you wouldn’t read into that anything that wasn’t there because, well, that’s just the kind of person you are.”

Zolf turned the idea over slowly, not even realising when he started to slightly nod his head. “I reckon I could do that for you.”

…

Cel led Zolf to their room, face glowing with excitement.

“Ok!”

Zolf wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, or how to get started on such a strange request, but he trusted that Cel knew enough about their needs to lead the way.

“Now, first question. Would you be comfortable if I was naked? I know some people make a big thing out of nudity. Honestly, I’d just be more comfortable that way, but! Only if you are also comfortable with that.” For once Cel actually managed to finish their sentence and waited for Zolf’s response, head tilted.

Zolf shrugged. He was on a similar page when it came to nudity. It meant exactly no more or less than what people assigned to it. “Whatever you like. This is your show.”

Cel beamed and started on the buttons of their shirt. Zolf admired the unique aesthetics of their body as they undressed, long limbs, surprisingly square and sinewy shoulders, small peaked breasts and their prick resting soft between their legs.

They left the goggles perched jauntily on the top of their head. Zolf, whilst not completely certain what they did, knew they were magically imbued. He didn’t find it too strange that Cel might prefer to leave them on even in an intimate situation. Or if it was strange, no more than Cel usually was.

“Do you think I’ll be at a workable height if I lean over this desk?” Without waiting for a response, Cel cleared the surface of said desk with a tinkling clatter of metal and mystery components.

Zolf’s mouth twitched in a fond smile. “Should be right.”

With another absolutely winning smile, Cel turned, moved the chair, and leant their long torso over the surface, perching on their elbows. The table was of a height that folded them to a right angle, maybe a bit sharper if they rested their chest all the way down.

Cel looked over their shoulder, stomach giving a little thrill of excitement as Zolf came over. It really had been too long, and they were looking forward to having those lovely hands on their backside.

Zolf rested on hand in the small of Cel’s back, and waited, as if for some kind of starting signal.

Right! Cel realised through their anticipation. For all that Zolf always radiated an air of reassuring competency, there was every chance he’d never done this before. Perhaps Cel had gotten slightly ahead of things by stripping off and presenting their bare arse to him over a desk.

“So, if you just… give me a few whacks and I’ll let you know where things stand? Focus on this rounded part-“ they indicated with a hand “- but I’d like it if you went down my thighs a bit as well.”

“I’m guessin' you’d prefer if I try not to touch b’tween your legs.” Zolf clarified.

“Yes, correct. There’s “nice, neurochemically stimulating pain,” and “ouch no fun” pain and I’d definitely prefer the former and not the latter. If you just keep a nice steady pace, the area will warm as blood comes to the surface in a mild inflammation response, my tolerance will build, and you’ll be able to increase intensity.”

Zolf smiled that fond little smile again as Cel continued. “We can calibrate a nice starting spot together. I don’t think you’ll get too carried away, but if it’s too much I’ll just say “stop” or if I need a moment I’ll say “pause.””

Zolf simply nodded. That was the information he had been seeking, plus the typical Cel extra. “Ready?” was all he said.

Cel nodded, and Zolf wound up and gave their buttock a smack with a tempered amount of force. Their arse was quite lean and firm beneath his hand.

“Oof! Yes! You can go up from there, by about twenty percent to start.”

Zolf wasn’t entirely sure his understanding of his strength could be broken down to a percentile, but he did his best.

Together, they calibrated. He’d give two or three spanks, Cel would offer feedback, and he’d go again. After two or three rounds of this, Cel settled their chest all the way down to the desk, cushioning their head on their forearms.

“That’s perfect, Zolf, thank you! Continue just like that!” They gave their hips a little inviting wiggle. “Please,” they added as an afterthought, voice slightly muffled into the desk.

Zolf gave a small chuckle and continued.

He settled into a rhythm; It was surprisingly satisfying. By Cel’s metric he was probably using about fifty percent of his strength, alternating cheeks with one hand still resting in the small of Cel’s back. He brought the blows down their thighs and was rewarded with a little squirm and a delighted puff of air from Cel as he did so.

Zolf’s palm grew warm, and Cel’s pale skin reddened beneath the firm blows. He watched their torso melt a little further into the desk, and when they turned their head, he noted that same red flush across their cheekbones. He slowed momentarily when they gave a small moan, but they hadn’t asked for a pause, so he could only take that as a good sign.

A few minutes later Zolf changed hands, coming to stand on the other side of them. He expected the small pause to be filled with Cel’s usual chatter, but they remained silent.

Zolf didn’t think he’d ever been a room with Cel without hearing them speak for this length of time.

When his other hand had grown as warm from impact as the first, Cel spoke. “Pause.” Their voice was breathy in a way that Zolf had never heard before. He paused, and without thinking took both hands and gave both of Cel’s arsecheeks a massaging squeeze. Cel sighed with pleasure.

“My tolerance has definitely gone up. If you could increase the intensity? I can take about twenty to thirty percent more.” They dropped their head back onto their forearms, and again, after a sufficient pause for it to occur to them, they added, “Please.”

Zolf gave what was asked of him. The flesh under his palms was achingly warm now, and on the rounded parts where he had been hitting most frequently, there was a slight raised area, starting to darken from flushed pink to a deeper, purple tinged colour.

When they asked for another pause, this time they sounded drunk. They got their arms underneath them and straightened up.

“Had enough?” Zolf asked, his voice coming out a little rougher than he’d intended.

“No, no it’s just-” They turned blinked somewhat owlishly at him, their cheeks a delightful shade of pink. “My legs are starting to give, a little. Which is good! I am nicely full of the endorphins released by this kind of process.”

They licked their lips, and Zolf couldn’t help but think that Cel looked incredibly cute like this.

“If it alright with you…” For the first time in this whole scenario, they sounded hesitant. “Could I lie down? In your lap, maybe? Only if you’re comfortable with that.”

Zolf swallowed. As they came up off the desk and turned, Zolf couldn’t help but let his eyes dip to their crotch. Well, he didn’t have to dip very far, with their height difference. Cel’s prick was still soft between their legs. Perhaps if they had been hard, he might have felt awkward about taking them into his lap, but it seemed they had been accurate in reporting that this was purely about sensation for them.

He nodded, and went to settle on Cel’s bed. Before Cel joined him, their hands fluttered, reaching toward their head as they considered something. “Hm,” was all they said, again surprising Zolf with their lack of patter.

Cel clambered onto the bed with shy smile. They crawled over him and draped their long body across his thighs, arse perked up over his lap. Zolf could feel a touch of tension in the body where it touched his. Cel turned their head to look at him, thoughtful through their slightly sensation-drunk haze.

“Um,” they said, and brought their hands up, delicately removing the goggles and handing them to Zolf. “Could you put those on the dresser, please?”

Zolf couldn’t help but feel he was being handed something more than a pair of goggles as he obeyed.

Cel closed their eyes, and sighed, unsteady but relieved. “Could you- not hard- but could you hold onto my hair?” Again, Cel was shyer than Zolf had come to expect from them. “Only if your comfortable with it.”

Zolf smiled and his stomach swooped a little at that. There was something warm in his chest, this feeling of being trusted with something rare and precious. “Sure.”

He curled one hand into the short hair at the nape of Cel’s neck, and as he gripped, he felt that last measure of tension go out of the body resting against his.

“Ready?” He asked softly. Cel nodded, slightly pulling their own hair in his grasp.

The shift in energy from the desk to the bed was palpable as Zolf started up his firm blows again. Cel sighed, and whimpered and shifted against him, and this time they didn’t need to speak; Cel had fed Zolf enough data for him to be able to read the request for more, and harder, and faster. He felt his own breath start to quicken from exertion, let his smacks rise and swell and push, seeking more of those little pleasured gasps that Cel now seemed more comfortable releasing.

He wasn’t quite giving them everything he had, but through the nice, dreamy rhythm he had fallen into, he found himself marvelling that this skinny alchemist could take as much as they were. The sweet spots of Cels’ arse was now dark with pre-bruising and their toes curled and rubbed into the coverlet on the bed.

He gave a few hearty spanks and Cel gasped into the covers. Zolf felt them go completely limp. Suddenly there was just a puddle of sweaty half-elf in his lap.

“Cel? Hey now.” He ran his hand up Cel’s spine, suddenly worried. “Is that enough?”

Cel groaned out an assent and rubbed their face against the covers. If they were wiping away tears, Zolf didn’t mention it. “Yes. I- thank you, Zolf.”

He helped Cel off his lap and they laid their long body out flat, their tall hair flattened with sweat against their forehead. They smiled dreamily at him. “That. Was. Perfect.”

Zolf felt any worry drain out of him, and his heart felt full and delighted. There was nothing he liked more than helping people, no matter that this was a new and unconventional method of doing so.

“Is there anythin’,” his voice felt wobbly and he cleared his throat to try again. “Anythin’ you need now? Healin’, water?”

Cel shook their head at both the offers, then smiled, a bit less bright than their usual smile, something hazier and more relaxed. “Actually. I wouldn’t mind a hug. Only if you’re-”

“-comfortable with that,” he finished with Cel and their mouth twisted wryly. “’Course.” He laid down next to them and gathered the loose-limbed half-half elf to his chest.

They stayed like that for a long moment, before Cel piped up, their voice sounding steadier for being held. “Zolf?”

“Mm?”

“I just realised- uhm- should we perhaps have sound proofed the room first?”

#rqg kinktober #kinktober #hank writes #cel sidebottom #zolf smith #rqg fan fic #rusty quill gaming #yall??? writing cel is so fucking fun?

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mythandlaur · 4 years ago

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So I have this weird thing I like to do with characters who have magic. It’s a little hard to explain, but I like to describe a character’s magical “aura” in a very aesthetic and metaphorical sort of way, kind of how their power “feels” both to themself and to others who might try to sense that power, or describing stuff I think evokes those feelings.

As expected, I’ve done this with several Puyo characters. Some of my friends liked the ones I showed them so I figured I may as well share. Several more under the cut!

Amitie has difficulty with her magic not because she isn't powerful or capable, but because controlling her magic is like trying to grasp a wisp of flickering flame in your hand. In fact, her power resembles all of the kinder sides of fire; bright and warm and playfully dancing about, not intending to hurt but fully capable of doing a lot of harm if ignored--or desired. Eventually, this power will grow into a blaze, a beacon of light and comfort for others, but for now it shimmers, ephemeral, just out of her grasp, like the pale rays of sunrise and the dust motes that dance in them, tingling a little too brilliantly on her fingertips before fizzling out as if laughing at her attempts to contain it.

Sig's magic feels like water lazily flowing through a creek, or perhaps something thicker--honey? Either way, it moves slow, steady, eating away at the earth around it at its own pace. A cool breeze, like sitting under the shade of a tree, or running your hand through the stream. Soothing. Clear. Quiet. And yet...there's something more underneath it. Harsher currents run under the stream, the bottom solid and powerful and...oddly warm. There is something more there, a storm that can be whipped into a destructive frenzy, but...it really doesn't want to do that. It does not want to destroy. It would rather carry on slowly, a pleasant tenor hum over a much stronger, but quieter, indescribable bass that gives it substance.

Klug's magic feels the way fizzy candy or carbonation does on your tongue; bright and sharp and sparkling and tingly. Like the way the end of a sparkler showers both light and sound into a hot summer night, or how a bottle rocket cracks and explodes with a brilliant flash. It's high-energy, vivid colors, wanting to burst out--but it's restrained. Carefully contained, perhaps more than it should be, in sharp lines and harsh angles. A wood block shaped to perfectly fit in a hole, a logical pattern. But it still burns at the ends of his fingers, still wild and still new, seeking to zip around the room until it completely exhausts itself. There's always a feeling of waiting for something more.

Strange Klug is limited to what power is already in Klug's body, so their two magics have some similarities; both are bright and angular and sparkling. But when possessed, his power takes on a darker tinge, and there is a well of pure rage fueling it. It's overpowering, suffocating, liable to knock you flat, and that's by design; it's something that takes you by the shoulders and shakes you and screams alongside a wailing siren, long and loud, demanding to be witnessed. It has the foreboding of the proverbial red sky at morning, of smelling smoke and not knowing exactly where it's coming from, and it is a desperate thing that pushes far past reasonable limits, panic and flashing red light and barely controlled with fingers digging and scrambling for purchase and refusing to let go.

Through no fault of his own, Lemres' power has grown from a bed of gnarled roots and wicked thorns that do all they can to block out the light, and sometimes you can feel a biting edge in his magic; a prick, a sting of acid, of poison, deep under the surface, especially when he is trying to hide the thornier parts of himself. But with time and care, flowers have bloomed, floaty, carefree-seeming petals and a bright gold-green like summer light through spring leaves. Lemres' magic burns not like fire, but stubborn sunlight that grew something from the depths of the dark, seeking to warm others but still wise to have a healthy respect for. It is strong, steady, and above all determined to shine.

Ringo's magic is odd. It's new, curious, clear, the sound of a tinkling bell above a shop door. It's your hair standing on end and goosebumps racing across your skin. And it grows like a brewing storm, giving and taking away in equal measure, not to be trifled with or dismissed by those on either side of it. It's taking a deep breath of crisp air at the top of a rollercoaster before plunging down and screaming with excitement at the top of your lungs. It's the sound an apple makes when you bite into it, that clean and crunchy sort of sound where you can feel the juice spraying out. It's on your tiptoes, on the cusp of something great, on the precipice. It's waiting for the gun to go off signaling the start of the race. Where it ends up, who can say?

Ecolo's magic is unknowable, in as much as it well and truly defies all the rules and laws of the world. It's a non-Newtonian fluid, a huge orb of something thick and oozy but quick and bouncy at the same time. It commands attention, but not in the way someone like Satan might--it's a chaotic barrage, an absolute, overwhelming assault on all of the senses, seeking not awe and fear, but rather any reaction at all. It's large, and strong, and it's easy to tell that much, but it's harder to tell the more cunning edge that runs underneath. A gelatinous cube waiting to consume an unsuspecting target who mistakes its shape for weakness. It's captivating, in a way, because it's so incomprehensible; the mind struggles to make some sense out of it, but it's all bright light and keening sounds and the feeling of balloon skin and colorful little rubber bands--though the potential for the latter to snap back and sting like nothing else should not for a moment be forgotten.

Satan has magic that is steady and powerful, honed over thousands and thousands of years like ancient stone cliffs. It's half as subtle and twice as dense as a mountain, demanding awe at its majesty. He casts spells as if he were a master artisan carving a grand, perhaps somewhat overly ostentatious statue that may last almost as long as he has. Stone and earth, sturdy and precise, yet with the sense of being very, very overbearing, like you are terribly small and insignificant next to it. And yet, events he will not speak of that no one else remembers has left a bitter tinge to his power, like coffee taken death black and the burnt ends of toast. Perhaps that only adds to the aesthetic. Perhaps he will pretend that's all it is.

He may not have as much innate magic as the others, but Lagnus' (Madou Saturn ver.) power is gold-painted steel shimmering blue, strong and durable and almost too shiny, enough to blind someone if he's not careful with it. But it isn't just pomp and circumstance, either; it's the sound your feet make on a well-worn trail and it's a mess of callouses, and even after Satan wiped the slate clean, there are whispers of old darkness, of the endless curses Lagnus took, giving up parts of himself for others. Underneath all the gold, it's warm the way a fireplace in an inn is, or a noble horse's coat in the sun. It is good not because of naivete, it is good because its wielder is determined to keep it in that shape even in spite of all that has happened--determined to keep it a healing, guiding light.

Ajisai (my version of the original book demon) had a power that was methodical and playful in equal measure, burning majestic like crimson-violet sunsets. It’s like satin ribbon dancing about with a flourish of the hand, a seemingly errant shower of sparks that's actually choreographed in a careful display. It's crisp and sharp and full, but gives the impression of having more running underneath it than meets the eye. An elegant thing, rich mahogany and old leather, but with an undercurrent of mischief that keeps it from being too terribly intimidating. It's when that impish, whimsical quality is completely absent that one should fear for their life.

#puyo puyo #i can't tag everyone or it won't show up in any tags at all

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oh-boy-me · 4 years ago

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sooooo.... noodle my doodle... whatcha think about those birth dates they just released, hm?

So birthdays mean sun signs and I’m guessing that’s why you’re interested 👀

Jo-kun is luckily interested in astrology and knows more than I do, so we talked about it a bit heheh

Also we haven’t talked about ANY birthdays/zodiacs so we’ll throw in the demon bros as well below the cut~

And keep in mind that astrology is just for fun, and these characters are up to individual interpretation, so you may have ideas that differ from ours and that’s fine! Additionally, none of this is meant to be a criticism or attack on people who share these signs, since just because you share one sign with someone doesn’t necessarily mean you’re similar people.

Edit: I forgot to explicitly clarify, but the moon and rising signs assigned are just headcanons, as there’s no way to know those without an exact birth time and place

Briefly, here are what tend to be considered the general, unifying traits of the elements as sun signs, so that we don’t have to repeat ourselves by constantly saying Taurus act like an earth sign. (Summaries courtesy of Jo)

FIRE (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius) Dedicated, Enthusiastic, Passionate, Visionary EARTH (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn) Clingy, Grounded, Reliable, Practical AIR (Gemini, Libra, Aquarius) Intellectual, Quick, Analytical, Sociable WATER (Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces) Sensitive, Emotional, Easily Influenced, Intuitive

Diavolo (10/31 - Scorpio ♏️)

We will, briefly, dear reader, pretend that Diavolo’s birth date has nothing to do with Halloween. A magnetic personality with a firm control over his surroundings (with the aide of his position as royalty), this water sign is as intuitive as they come.

Witty, free-spirited, and innately curious, even when his decisions seem immature, Diavolo allows his two sides (royal duties and childish ideals) to merge together nicely in the way that a Gemini moon would. He’s an optimist with a zesty personality, but also knows when to be serious, so a Sagittarius rising would make sense.

Barbatos (8/22 - Leo [Virgo Cusp] ♌️[ ♍️])

Being born the day before the switch, Barbatos holds the Leo qualities of being loyal and generous, but the Virgo qualities of being logical and hard working. He can be unreasonable and critical at times, but his regal personality offsets the sting to most of his words.

He’s a harmony seeker and a team player, though those who aren’t on his side will be off put, so a Libra moon works for him. His organizational skills, coupled with his skills as a natural caretaker, often leads to others seeking out his advice should they find themselves in trouble, which suggests Virgo as his rising sign.

Simeon (2/10 - Aquarius ♒️)

Friendly yet detached, Simeon shows all qualities of an air sign, but with a flare for curiosity. His eccentricities and tendency to not give up either draw you to him, or away.

He’s slow to anger and shows his devotion by fostering his relationships over a long period of time. However, this makes it hard for him to let go of past relationships, so a Taurus moon would make sense. And as we’ve seen from his directing, he has high expectations for both himself and others, and while he's often quite mature, it also makes him aloof, so a Capricorn rising can work.

Luke (7/15 - Cancer ♋️)

All the traits of a water sign are very visible, and Luke's caring and loyal nature, along with his ability to hold a grudge, be clingy, and seek security, cement his spot as a Cancer.

Luke often finds himself with no choice but to fully embraces his emotional state, and if not careful can fall into egocentric defenses, so the emotional fire sign Leo would work as his moon sign. Idealistic yet sensitive to the truth, he can come off as impractical, so we can see Pisces as his rising sign.

Solomon (12/9 - Sagittarius ♐️)

A seeker of freedom and a philosopher of sorts, the fire signs traits are certainly well honed for his pursuit of knowledge and power, though this can be seen as reckless and/or tactless.

He prefers witty and light banter over a deep conversation about emotions, which may be because he struggles to actually conceptualize them into words, so a Gemini moon would make sense. His circumstances (natural caution towards others, responsibilities, and being the only other human) means he ends up hiding what he's really thinking underneath a calm facade, resembling a Scorpio rising.

Lucifer (6/6 - Gemini ♊️)

So Lucifer’s birthday is 6/6 because of 666. That is why. But ignoring that, he has his “two sides,” his business side and his fun side, and they never overlap. He fits the general air sign qualities well, and he's clever and witty in a dry way. However, he's also capable of being moody and restless, and can be immature in his reactions.

For his moon sign, we can see him as an Aries, as he’s quick to anger, but cools down easily too, and is very assertive. On the surface, he’s mature, organized, and expects a lot, so he seems like a rising Capricorn.

Mammon (9/10 - Virgo ♍️)

Mammon is an interesting case, because he does fit many Virgo traits, but he has to care for them to show. He’s hard-working, surprisingly logical and observant, and incredibly innovative. He also worries, has trouble staying still, and always wants more.

He’s also very emotionally mature and nurturing as a result, but is quite fragile and can be overbearing, so a Cancer moon makes sense. On the surface, he is instinctual, with a loud presence, and asks forgiveness instead of permission, so he seems like a rising Aries.

Leviathan (4/9 - Aries ♈️)

Temperamental and reckless, yet endearingly audacious, he represents all the qualities of a fire sign. Levi is passionate and VERY intense about those passions. He also gets very defensive, and is quick to lash out the moment he so much as perceives an attack.

For some reason, his potential other signs were pretty hard to think of! We can see a Leo moon, since he trends towards leadership roles in his comfort zone, and can be a bossy drama queen, though he’s also very loyal. On the surface, he very much does his own thing, so he could be a rising Aquarius. (Which, yes, would mean that the sea serpent has no primary water signs.)

Satan (10/20 - Libra ♎️)

Charming and diplomatic, Satan appears even-tempered most of the time, however, he's also quite superficial and tends to seek approval from others inadvertently. He shows obvious signs of typical qualities of an air sign.

A social climber of sorts, he tends to shut down his emotions, which ends up repressing them, leading to his wrathful outbursts, making him a good Capricorn moon. He’s pleasant on the surface, putting his relationships over his true feelings, so he seems like a rising Libra.

Asmodeus (5/15 - Taurus ♉️)

Sensuous, determined, and a lover of beauty, Asmo is as steadfast as any other Earth sign. While greedy for attention and beauty products, his unyielding attitude towards his goals can be considered admirable.

He tends to wane poetic about his emotions, even if it ends up being a bit much. And while he can be very unselfish about his desires, it means he sometimes ends up his own worst enemy, so a Pisces moon would make sense. On the surface, he's confident, dramatic, and attention-grabbing, but this can also make him demanding. Leo would be a good rising sign for him.

Beelzebub + Belphegor (3/11 - Pisces ♓️)

They're both emotional, like most water signs, but they're expressed in different ways. Beelzebub is empathetically intuitive while Belphegor tends to be more compassionate. Both of them can be easily influenced to becomes depressed, and can become stubborn when it comes to the things they believe.

Beel is conflict avoidant and seeks balance in his family, staying as diplomatic and cooperative as he can, so a Libra moon would make sense. On the surface, he comes across as strong willed, dependable, and a little bit of a hedonist, so a Taurus rising would work.

Belphie leans more towards hiding his intentions, and those intentions are often scheming or petty, so he could be a Scorpio moon. He’s also guarded and quiet around those outside of his circle, so Scorpio would once again work as his rising.

So to summarize (cute little chart courtesy of Jo)

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yeochikin · 4 years ago

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nail polish. | k. yeosang & j. wooyoung

a/n: phew this is probably a long one? but i really enjoyed writing this aaaa ;; thank you @lilvoncat for requesting this! i hope you don’t mind if i added both of them into this fic aha. i hope you enjoyed reading this just as much as i enjoyed writing it! 💖✨

“on a scale of one to ten, one being the lowest, how much do the two of you trust me?”

at the sudden question, wooyoung and yeosang looked up from their phones to look at their childhood friend, y/n. the two boys merely looked at each other in question with a brow quirked up at the same time before deadpanning at their friend.

“a close three.” yeosang nonchalantly answered.

“a four for me.” wooyoung chimed in, earning a snort coming from yeosang which caused a low groan to be emitted from the one questioning.

feigning a hurt expression, y/n placed a hand over her chest where her heart was located dramatically alongside a low moan out of disapproval, bringing her free hand up to wipe a fake tear away, much to yeosang’s amusement at how exaggerated her act was.

“oh, come on. you guys have been friends with me since we were- what, since kindergarten.” she whined and pouted down at the two boys in front of her, who remained unfazed by their friend’s act. totally been too used to see through the puppy-ish act of hers as they knew too well that she would pull that look whenever she wanted something from them.

to a stranger’s point of view, the three of them were simply an odd combination. yeosang being the quiet one of the group, yet would not hesitate to send a snide comment or two when things weren’t right in his place. though it wasn’t his fault really, he has always been looking like as if his gaze would freeze someone in their place but really, it was just his face. beneath all that monotonous exterior, lies a prankster. yeosang would sometimes consider his silent nature a boon considering how he was able to get away with his little pranks but don’t worry, all of his pranks are merely harmless. from giving sour candies to drawings his own little character he created (hehetmon, was what he called them) on someone’s notebook with a little message in them.

next there’s wooyoung, the loud and most energetic out of the three. he has always been the social butterfly, even if he passed by the hallways on the way to his classes, you could expect a few students would send him a greeting or a simple fist bump as they rushed to their classes. other than being a social butterfly of the campus, everyone would recognize the sound of his laugh far too well, even when you are at quite a distance from him. it was endearing really, everyone somehow found it contagious as they would soon find themselves elicit a chortle along. when either yeosang or y/n were not around, you could always see him hanging out with his other friend, though for some reason his friend had a quite similar laugh with wooyoung’s.

and then there’s y/n. she's a bit odd really. from one person, they could describe her as the soft spoken girl with a laid back attitude yet would always seem like she's holding herself back from talking about a certain topic. and to another person, she was the ball of energy with an interesting humour. considering how people have seen her mostly hanging out with yeosang or wooyoung, or even with the both of them, they would always think that the attitudes from the two boys somehow rubbed off on her. but in all honesty, y/n preferred to say that she is her own person whenever someone confronted her with the certain question.

surely, the three never minded with all of their quirks and habits. of course a few harmless teasings here and bickers were present yet it was never an issue to the three. besides, what's a close friendship without any teasings and making fun of each other?

wooyoung released a low sigh and leaned forward, resting both elbows on his knees. “fine, what do you want?”

the question was enough to make y/n clasp her hands together and bounced on the balls of her feet excitedly, “can we.. can we paint our nails?”

silence suddenly hung over the three, save for the occasional doors closing from y/n’s neighbours in her apartment floor along with the passing of various vehicles outside. y/n could only bite down on the plush muscle of her lower lip as she waited for the answer from the two boys.

yeosang looked unbothered, as per usual, while wooyoung suddenly bursts out laughing his high pitched laugh, “i'm sorry, i think i heard you wrong. i thought i heard you saying you wanted to paint our nails? together?”

“that's what i just said.” y/n deadpanned.

“oh, you’re actually serious.”

“i'm gonna have to sit this one out, i have to go for a presentation tomorrow and you know how much of a neat freak professor park is. who knows how many marks he'll deduct from me if he sees it.” yeosang reasoned, resting his arm over the couch and leaned back.

“and what made you wanna paint your nails all of the sudden? i thought you weren't into, what, nail art?” wooyoung added, amused at how the girl in front of him formed a little pout with her lips with her hand rubbing the back of her nape.

“i just saw a few vids. you know, the diy kind of vids, and i thought they looked easy to try so..” she trailed off.

“and i'm guessing since you can't really do it on your own, you want us to be your involuntary volunteers huh?” wooyoung concluded, watching as y/n completely disregarded the way he sounded reluctant and instead, showed him her best puppy eyed look.

wooyoung stared at her for a few seconds before groaning to himself. “you better make it look good.” he grumbled underneath his breath, the frown that was playing over his lips soon being replaced by a little smile at the sight of y/n fist pumping the air while cheering.

of course, until a certain blond objected.

“i'm not gonna do it, y/n. professor park will have my he-”

“i'll buy you chicken after classes.”

“say less.”

so, here they are. seated on the carpeted floor just so they could be at an appropriate height in front of the coffee table, spending the rest of their rainy afternoon listening through a nail art tutorial video. for someone who objected to it strongly at first, yeosang sure was paying close attention to the video, admiring at how the person painted the nails so smoothly, occasionally letting out ooh’s and ahh’s every time the top coat was applied.

“no, no, i want red and black stripes!” wooyoung whined with a childish pout plastered over his visage upon seeing y/n pulling out a navy blue coloured nail polish.

“okay, how about we make it navy blue and silver on one hand while the other red and black?” y/n asked, to which wooyoung reconsidered the negotiation with a purse of his lips.

“okay not bad, but only if you'll let me paint your nails in black and white, like zebra prints?” he added, eyes focused on how carefully the female painted over his nails.

“and me painting hehetmon on your other hand?” yeosang chimed in, brows all furrowed in concentration at the little circles he was painting on his index finger, tip of his tongue peeking out the corner of his lips in the process.

“well, i don't really have a choice, do i? i mean, i did ask you guys to do this with me.” y/n simply said, gently blowing onto wooyoung's fingers and leaning back afterwards to admire her work.

after an hour of the occasional bickerings being shared with a touch of inner jokes thrown in here and there, the trio were finally done with their own little work, wooyoung letting out a yawn, yeosang releasing a groan from the stiff muscles on his back that was aching due to being hunched for too long, and y/n stretched both of her arms out to ease the knots in her muscles. the female’s eyes glanced over at the coffee table they were sat at, and she couldn't help but to notice the little mess they made.

some of the nail polish had gotten onto the surface of the table, some of the caps weren't closed properly, cotton balls strewn in random spots of the table, and a few glitter flakes here and there. but she didn't care. instead, y/n looked over at their painted hands before grinning to herself. albeit a bit messily, y/n was actually liking how wooyoung had painted her nails in a simple black and white theme while on her other hand, hehetmon was painted on the nail of her thumb followed by a simple solid colour on her other nails, courtesy of the one and only, kang yeosang.

“huh, for almost rejecting me earl-” she started.

“for the record, we did reject you.” yeosang cut her off, only to be hushed by the female which caused him to roll his eyes in a playful manner towards his friend.

“you guys did a pretty good job painting my nails, i'm impressed.” she continued, holding out her hands in front of her with a wiggle of her fingers as if to show the two boys their results. wooyoung, being the cheeky one as per usual, puffed his chest out and nudged her side with his elbow.

“of course we did. gotta admit that this was fun though, we haven't been spending much time with each other now that everything's been hectic.” the raven haired boy commented, to which, y/n and yeosang could only agree in response.

silence hung over the three once again. though it wasn't awkward, it was comfortable.

that was, until wooyoung shifted around in his place to take out his phone. “let's take a picture, we know how our little y/n here loves to… capture the moment.” wooyoung laughed loudly upon hearing the groans of his two friends from the little joke he just made yet quickly getting into place.

y/n was squished in between the two with her hands cupping her cheeks, as if to proudly show off her freshly painted nails. yeosang was next to her holding up a bottle of one of the nail polishes y/n had brought out earlier, cheek pressing against the top of the girl’s head. wooyoung made sure that all three of them were in the frame before his lips stretched out into a wide beam, counting down until…

click.

the three looked down at the picture then at each other, each having a huge grin on their faces, only then taking a few more pictures. with every click, comes with a new pose. with every picture, comes with a few teasings and boastings.

and with every moment shared, comes with a precious memory to be treasured.

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astrology-india · 4 years ago

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Dating an Aries Man - How to Make It Work

New Post has been published on https://www.astrology-india.com/dating-an-aries-man/

Dating an Aries Man - How to Make It Work

Aries is the first sign of the zodiac, a young soul in every sense. Some say he can be immature, combative, selfish, and a bit of a bully.

However, underneath it all, the young ram has a sweet, intelligent, and loyal side, as many dating an Aries man will attest to.

If you can keep his interest long enough to win him over, you will have a powerful, dominant, and protective lover and warrior who will support you until the end.

Best Match for Dating an Aries Man

Is it a romantic partner he is looking for? Or a sparring partner? Well, with the Aries it is a bit of both.

This man needs tons of physical affection and someone who can give him some pushback, aka a worthy opponent.

Some find this fun, but it is also for this reason he may not be suited for the more sensitive signs of the zodiac. Aries men are matched best with their fire sign counterparts like Leo, Sagittarius, and fellow Aries who share some of the sign’s similarities.

The Aries guy could be compatible with air signs as well. Gemini, Libra, and Aquarius can give this guy a run for his money without taking it all too personally.

Aries Man Dating Habits

When going out with your Aries do not expect to find the two of you enjoying a nice calm dinner with candle lights and a band serenading you- or if you do, do not expect to stay for very long.

The Aries man needs excitement, he is a thrill-seeker at heart. People, places, and things all lose his attention quickly.

Dating him, you can expect to bounce from place to place, hitting multiple locations in one night, or possibly for an entire day.

And if you do end up going to just one spot, it will not be a dull one. An amusement park? Swimming with sharks? Running from bulls?

Who knows where you will end up with the Aries guy, but just hope that it is in his arms at the end of the night.

Aries Man Dating Traits

Aries is an energetic and confident fire sign. This man is always on the move, and it may seem like he is looking for the next person, place, or thing to butt heads with, but really, he is just having some fun.

Those that know him best, including his partner, know this to be true. Those who have just met the young ram, however, may think he is a bit self-consumed.

He is independent, a man on a mission. When an Aries knows what he wants, there is not a thing in this world that will stop him from getting it, including a date.

Yes, the man will walk right up without having a doubt in his mind and make small talk, which quickly turns into flirting and playful teasing, and might even end in a wrestling match.

The man is an initiator, and he is full of energy and passion. Needless to say, he gets bored and restless very easily.

The Aries male will generally also have a big ego which he needs to feed to maintain how he sees himself in life. He needs to prove himself in everything he does including dating.

To become the object of his desire and to channel his enthusiastic drive into winning you over this short video shows how to make him obsessed with winning your love.

No one is trying to paint the Aries man as being “childish” here, even though he does have a young spirit. He is actually highly intelligent and an excellent conversationalist.

But you might have to hold him down to have one with him. Once you do, you will be pleasantly surprised by how well-rounded and refined the Aries can be.

Just like physical experiences, he needs excitement that stimulates his mind. Humor is essential to the Aries male.

While it seems like he takes life seriously, at the end of the day it is all in light-hearted fun. With this man, everything can be made into a joke.

Some people get it, and some do not. For those who do, they know to throw jokes right back at him. His perfect partner is someone who can both dish it and take it.

And he can take it. Well, usually. The Aries man can be surprisingly sensitive. Yeah, you would not have guessed for a fire sign.

But, while sensitive, he also does not hold on to ill feelings or grudges for long. He is an optimist, who lives life to the fullest and has tons to do.

So, naturally, he forgets his feelings were ever hurt, which makes fighting and making up relatively easy with the ram.

If he is still angry, you only need to take him into the bedroom to get some of the aggression out. Sure, all of this sounds captivating, like a character out of a movie.

But the Aries man is not for all.

Water and earth signs will likely not put up with his characteristics for long. They will either get their feelings hurt, feel bulldozed, or not understand why he does any of this stuff at all.

Likewise, since the above signs are toned-down and seem to prefer stability, the Aries man gets bored by them rather easily.

He will probably pick a fight and if they do not push back, he will get bored and go find someone else to spar with. Or if they take the bait and getting all wound up, he will get a chuckle but not find it challenging enough for him either.

This man’s ruling planet is Mars, which represents war, after all. Understanding why you need to make him fight for your love and attention is explained here in His Secret Obsession.

Sex with an Aries Man

The Aries male is full of vitality and extremely physical. Being a fire sign, he tends to express himself physically.

Since he is unable to muscle his way through every situation in life (as there are consequences for that), he finds that he can fully be himself in the bedroom, a place where he can shine.

It could be because he has a high sex drive, as Aries tend to do, or he likes the exercise that sex offers him, that the Aries guy spends a lot of time in the bedroom- sometimes all day.

With him, you can expect tons of wrestling, tossing, and general rough stuff. But beneath this macho exterior is a pussy cat who can be loving and tender when controlled.

The Aries guy’s fiery side can be tempered in the bedroom by his partner whispering in his ear and setting the pace. He wants above all to prove to himself he is a good lover.

Yes, he may on the surface appear dominant and even aggressive but a woman can use The Language of Desire to achieve the ultimate sexual experience between the sheets.

Dating an Aries Man Long Distance

Aries is flighty in general, but he is also the conqueror type who is constantly bouncing from one thing to be the winner at the next.

If you are away from him too long, the young ram could become bored and go out seeking his next challenge in the form of another partner.

However – and this is a big one – if he has won you over already, and you have done the same by showing him you are a worthy match, he will be loyal to you forever.

The secret lies in making sure you are constantly in his thoughts and this can be done by texting.

Not inundating him constantly with loads of messages but sending messages with true meaning that resonate with his subconscious mind.

You can find out more about this technique that uses carefully crafted sentences to keep his attention focused on you and only you by listening to this video on Text Chemistry here.

If your relationship is already solid, then you and the Aries guy will do just fine long distance. If he has your heart and you know it, then there is nothing at all to worry about.

Final Thoughts

The childlike warrior spirit of the Aries man is admirable, but not for all. To win him over in the bedroom The Language of Desire will send his passion for you to new heights.

Dating an Aries man is like stepping into the arena in full gladiator uniform and then running 100 miles afterward, all the while getting tons of love from this sweet fire sign.

If you have thick skin and a lot of energy, a fun, and playful nature, the Aries ram may be the perfect sign for you.

#Aries man #Dating

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minbirdie · 5 years ago

Note

Hiii! Could you please do 10 and 40 with Chan? Thanks!💗

drabble game: #10 (enemies-to-lovers!au) + #40 (opposites attract) + 90’s radio dj au just bc i felt like it ^^

word count: 2.1k

warnings: strong language

a/n: i’m going to assume u meant bang chan since ur url is skz-themed!! but if i’m wrong i’m sorry :( thank u for being my first request ^^

[radio hearts] | b.ch

chan had always found it incredibly difficult to hold a grudge.

he was raised to never stay angry for too long, to always consider the point of view of other individuals before acting. when someone behaves in a way you don’t understand, his mother once told him, it’s probably because they are hurting. they are human, after all. and chan tried his very best to live by this mindset, always acting as the problem solver whenever tensions rose too high among his friends.

that was, of course, before he met you.

in the eyes of many, you were a background character, a person of few words with even fewer fucks to give. your hair was unkempt, your irises reflecting its wild nature whenever you spoke, and while yes, chan could admit that his tendency to favor dark clothing aligned with yours, that’s where all similarities between the two of you ended. you were untamable, untouchable, yet so indifferent to the world around you that sometimes just the sight of you made chan clench his jaw out of frustration. your attitude, your behavior, even your success—everything about you was an enigma to him.

it all began when you ruined what was going to be one of the best days of chan’s life, though not purposefully. that day, his lifelong dream had finally come true; he had miraculously landed a job at perhaps the most popular station in the area. what he only realized upon seeing you at the mic was that his dream of being a dj required a bit more experience and upward mobility, and unfortunately, chan had started at the bottom of the chain of command. this meant, of course, that chan had a few technical responsibilities but was mostly the errand boy, or your “bitch,” as you had so lovingly deemed his position.

from that day forward, everything about you irritated him. your blunt, sarcastic sense of humor typically struck a nerve, yet in a cruel twist of fate, it was your straightforward personality that made you so unique and popular on the air. you hardly sugar coated anything, and your choices in music reflected your lack of concern for what others may think. in all honesty, chan really couldn’t understand how you became so popular among listeners, since no one hardly gave you any attention in real life. you somehow managed to be both invisible yet successful, a feat that amazed and confused him.

“good morning,” he grumbled as he always did upon entering the recording studio, purposely avoiding eye contact with you. this particular morning, however, his hands were full with drinks from the local cafe. it was his turn to do the daily coffee run, and although he had been working at the station for a few month now and had everyone’s orders memorized as if they were his own, he was struggling to balance everything.

“need a hand?” you asked, but he merely scrunched up his face and shook his head vehemently. nevertheless, you stood up, reaching out to him. “here, let me help—“

“i got it.” he cut you off abruptly, setting the drinks down harshly on the table.

you raised your hands defensively and raised your eyebrows high on your forehead. “damn, okay,” you muttered before snatching your drink off the table and sitting back down in your chair.

typically, chan could hold his tongue. sometimes, however, he let his passive-aggressive tendencies get the better of him, and although occasionally you reciprocated with some harsh banter of your own, normally, you ignored his sour attitude with an ease that only further exasperated him. today appeared to be one of those days where an unspeakable something egged at chan, pecking at him from just underneath the surface of his skin.

“hey bang,” you called out, not even bothering to look up from the track list you were mapping out for your portion of today’s air time. “what do you think should go in this slot here?” you pointed at the list, tapping your pen against the blank space on the paper.

chan leaned back against the door frame, shoved his hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans, and inhaled through his teeth. “well, i don’t really think it matters what i suggest. you’re just gonna do whatever you want, so…” he was muttering, almost through a pout, and he made sure to avert his eyes by staring down at his sneakers.

but you had definitely heard him, which was evident by the way you slammed your pen down on the table. “alright, that’s it.” you snapped, swirling around in your chair to stare him directly in the eye. “what’s your problem with me?”

chan swallowed thickly, his eyes glued to the stack of cd’s piled up on a shelf beside you. “what do you mean?” he played dumb, hoping that you would drop it and he could somehow avoid getting fired.

he, of course, wasn’t that lucky. “what do i mean?” you repeated incredulously. “i think it’s pretty obvious what i mean.” you let out a shaky breath, and chan’s heart squeezed tightly in his chest as the realization struck him: he had genuinely hurt your feelings. “like, i know i give you shit sometimes, but goddamn, it’s like you hate me or something.” you ran a hand through your hair in an attempt to calm your nerves.

he shook his head vehemently, eyes wide and panicked. “no, no. i…i don’t hate you. it’s uhm…well, i just—“ unsatisfied with his stuttering, you stood, slowly making your way toward him. “i…i don’t know.” he admitted with a sigh. he still couldn’t bring himself look at you.

you trapped his body between yours and the door frame, and chan could feel your intense gaze burning a hole in his forehead. “alright then.” you stated simply before reaching out and closing the door behind him. “we’re not leaving until we figure this shit out. because, frankly, i’m tired of it.”

chan knew that he could probably slip out if he wanted to, but the look in your eye advised him against doing so. besides, as much as chan hated confrontation, he understood where your anger was coming from. “you’re right.” he admitted, though he still had trouble looking at your face as you stared at him. “i…owe you an explanation.”

he wet his lips, trying to allow his racing mind some time to think. “ah, how do i say this…?” he was quiet for a moment as he pilfered through the confusing tangle of emotions resting inside his chest. “i guess i’m just…” he drew out the last syllable before landing on the word, “jealous. i’m jealous, i think, because…uhm,” he huffed out a sigh, deciding to rip off the bandage entirely, “because you have the job i want.”

you knitted your eyebrows in confusion as you tilted your head only slightly to the side. “explain,” you muttered, your tone transforming from accusatory to one to something resembling understanding.

chan struggled to translate his feelings into words, especially when you looked at him like that—a soft gleam in your eye, wrinkles barely lining your forehead as you listened intently to whatever he was going to say next. he inhaled through his teeth, almost as if the confession was painful, before simply stating, “you’re…something else.”

at this thought, he couldn’t help but smile, partly because he was remembering with somewhat of a fondness the crazy tangents you would go on sometimes while on the air, the way that you would dance to the music you selected when you thought no one could see, how you always were the first one here in the morning and the last person to leave at night. he also smiled, in part, due to your own reaction to his statement; you tried hard to fight it, but there was a glint in your eye and a grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “i’ve wanted…to be a dj since i was eight,” he smiled fondly, remembering the fascination he had with his father’s record collection. “when i first found out that someone could make money by playing their favorite songs, talking about music, stuff like that….wow, i was ecstatic.” he shook his head with a sigh.

“oh,” you replied, your face falling, “i see.” you nodded, looking down at your feet. “i…ruined your dream.”

chan didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes betrayed his feelings. he neither confirmed nor denied your claim, instead continuing on to change the subject. “you’re really good at what you do.” he admits, running a hand through his dark locks in an attempt to steady his breathing. “and i think…i think that’s probably what frustrates me the most.”

you hummed in understanding, and chan noticed that your ears were tinted red with embarrassment. “well, uhm, thanks, i guess…” you mumbled, and chan couldn’t help the chuckle that your reaction pulled from him. “honestly, i’m really shit at what i do.” you smiled at yourself despite the harsh self-criticism. “like, i should probably care more—“

“the thing is,” chan interrupted, though not consciously, “i think you do care. you probably care more than i do. you just…have a funny way of showing it, i think.” your smile was dazzling, chan couldn’t help but think, as your face heated up from the compliments that kept pouring out of his mouth. once he started thinking this way, chan found it difficult to stop. “and your unique personality is really a strength for you, you know? you’re what makes this station, well, popular.” his expression could only be described as one of pure giddiness, absolutely adoring the shyness that his compliments brought out of you—you, the loud, independent, boisterous dj whom he had been secretly, jealously admiring for months.

and he would have said more, continued talking until his face turned blue, had it not been for your lips quickly catching his in a kiss without warning.

it was a short, fleeting kiss, clearly not something that was thought through, yet it perfectly conveyed the sense of something that had been pulsing through chan’s veins ever since he met you. just as he felt himself melting into the warmth and bliss your kiss provided, you pulled away with a gasp, your fingertips ghosting over your lips where chan’s had just been, as if you were shocked by your own actions. chan simply stood with his heart pounding in his ears and disbelief stilling his features.

“oh…oh fuck, i’m sorry,” your voice sounded like it would shatter like glass with the lightest touch as your wild, panicked eyes searched his. the longer chan stared at you, however, the more intensely he felt. your hands were still clutched around his shirt, probably a subconscious action that you would find embarrassing had you been aware of it, but chan didn’t want you to let go.

“don’t be,” he muttered breathlessly before pulling you back in for another deep kiss.

this time, chan could relish in your touch and pinpoint the specific sensations that made his heart beat so loudly he swore you could feel it, too. he cupped your cheeks gently, and he felt your grip on his t-shirt loosen as you relaxed into the kiss. your hands moved to wrap around his waist entirely, pulling him closer to you and causing him to hum against your lips.

he couldn’t stop his racing mind, in all its confusion and bliss, from wondering how you did it, how you acted without overthinking every possible outcome, how you managed to be so reckless with almost everything you did but in the best, most intriguing way possible. in part, he envied you and believed it to be a part of your vitalizing, sometimes infuriating, charm.

chan pulled away only because he needed to catch his breath, but when he did, your smile made him wish he hadn’t.

now it was you who found it difficult to look into his shimmering eyes, opting instead to gaze down at your fingers as they nervously fiddled with the fabric of chan’s shirt. “you surprised me, bang. i honestly thought you were gonna call me a bitch, or quit, or something.”

chan couldn’t help but chuckle, tugging on his lower lip with his teeth. “well, i mean, i have thought about it before.”

“hush. i’m trying to say something,” you laughed, shoving him playfully, and chan’s thumb lightly brushed against your cheekbone. “i…never thought that you would feel that way because, well, you’re so…” you stopped, crunching up your redding face out of pure embarrassment. “god, this is so cheesy…”

chan’s smile was absolutely radiant. “i like cheesy,” he teased.

“please, can we just…?” you inched closer to his face once more, and chan happily obliged to your unstated request, kissing you tenderly.

and even though chan didn’t realize it at first, he really had found his dream job because he got to work side by side with one of the most interesting, unique individuals he had ever known.

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foundouthatdabiistouyatodoroki · 5 years ago

Text

Explaining Dabi’s Bio

To be honest I wasn’t actually expecting anything relating to Dabi to come I thought was Horikoshi is going to skip Dabi like he does with the other times when ever Dabi appeared in the manga. But when volume 25 came around we got his bio, I was completely ecstatic to receive Dabi’s profile though there was little info on his bio It didn’t disappoint. Finding out even a little bit about Dabi helps to learn about his character.

We didn’t get to learn Dabi’s age and real name we didn’t learn anything about Dabi other than his birthday and height. My hunch on this is this can all harken back to him being Touya Todoroki. His age and real name would reveal Dabi being Touya, the older brother of Shoto and the oldest Todoroki sibling.

I am going to go over Dabi’s profile and what it has to do with him in this post.

Dabi’s birthday is January 18, Dabi is born seven days away from Shoto. This puts a damper to the entire twin theory but wait! Look!

The 18th in Japanese is written 十八日 If broken apart in japanese it goes like this “To,(十)” being 10 and “ya,(八)” being 8. If you read the kanji with the same kun spelling its written like this

When read like this it's pronounced “Touya.” This is a possible hint to his true identity being Touya.

Another thing to mention: Dabi born in the month of January which makes him a Capricorn. Despite knowing very little about Dabi (since his motives are left in the air), he has several traits relating to Capricorns. If you take an in-depth analysis of the Capricorn in Dabi’s character, there's a lot that matches Dabi’s personality.

Let’s go over with the star sign Capricorn and what it has to do with Dabi:

Capricorns are winter signs. They are... cold, serious, practical, grounded with unbreakable convictions. Capricorns are the most level headed of the star signs. They keep their cool in a crisis they rarely panic in drastic situations. Capricorns are traditional. They care more about the rules, have a set of values and principles they follow and are intolerant to others when they don’t. They are patient and plan things step by step very carefully. Capricorns plan long term goals and wait. Capricorns are cautious not reckless are careful and won’t take risks unless they know the pros and cons before they take action. Capricorns are focused individuals and really serious out all the signs are ambitiousness and completely passionate to reach their ambition when it comes to their convictions. Capricorns do whatever it takes to achieve their goals. They don’t care about the means on how they do it as long as it gets them closer to the success of achieving it. Capricorns will not share their true thoughts easily unless they have to. They are closed mouth when it comes to sharing info and withheld important information to themselves from others for their own gain. They are very resourceful. They work with the tools that are given to them. They are hardworking when it comes to reach that ambition to the point. They're considered workaholics which caused them to be detached from their surroundings. Capricorns keep their distance from others to complete their convictions. Though they appear cold on the surface that is merely an image they project: deep down they have a tender sentimental heart kept hidden under a harsh exterior. Capricorns put up walls around themselves to guard their tender hearts from other people. They may seem unemotional on the surface, but underneath they are driven and determined to set out to complete their goals. They are introverts seen as a wallflower in larger groups, in which they feel that they are out of their element. One thing Capricorns are is that they are loyal. Capricorns are family-oriented: they love being around people they love and are incredibly loyal to them they are willing to happily bend over backwards for the people they love this trait is what makes them great friends and family members. They will distance themselves from said family if a member is perceived to be violent and harmful. A negative trait a Capricorn has its that they are unforgiving. They are serious about grudges to the point of vengeance. If you cross one you would never make it back to a Cawpricorn’s good side. They will hold grudges on others behalf (this part shows just how loyal they are to their loved ones). There’s no changing a Capricorn's mind once it’s made up.

Dabi is cool,serious and aloof. He’s the most serious minded out of all of the LOV, as seen in his deamanor in the missions that are given and the LOV activities in Smash. He’s grounded when he’s dealing with the LOV shenanigans and gets exasperated at their antics in Smash. Dabi may not have ambitions, but he has unbendable convictions. He's very determined to set out to complete his goals no matter the cost; he's so focused on completing his objectives that he has detached from other people to complete his goals.

That's something I noticed in Dabi’s character: that he has a conviction that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to achieve. Dabi working for a villain organization is proof of that the didn’t care about what the means are as long as he completed his objective.

Dabi’s cool headed whenever he’s in drastic situations you can argue that he’s indifferent to his surroundings but he’s acutely really calm whenever there's a crisis. You rarely see him panic in a given situation.

Dabi looks indifferent and crude however he follows a set of principles and values the LOV don’t. Dabi uses Stain’s ideals as a foundation he follows to bring down false heroes and wielding power with conviction.

Dabi is incredibly intolerant of other people: he insults those who don’t have any principles or values. Dabi insults Himiko, questions if the LOV follow a just cause, and wonders why the LOV don’t have any principles in the game Ones justice Dabi burns the back alley thugs calls them trash just because they wield power have no ambition in their bodies.

Dabi’s patient and preserving he plans things accordingly and waits for the next move. He was put in charge of the Vanguard action squad by Tomura himself. Dabi is cautious and doesn’t act too recklessly. In the beginning of the raid he tells the members to wait not act just yet. He uses his flames to hide the location of the meeting place when they complete their objectives; despite three casualties he successfully completed the mission in capturing Katsuki. Hawks and Dabi planned the High-End Nomu attack on the city After Endeavor defeated High End, he appeared and said “this isn’t what I planned,” which meant he didn’t think endeavor would defeat High End.

Dabi is careful when he uses his quirk. He knows its weaknesses fairly well and is careful in how he uses it the reason why he was absent in the LOV fight with Gigiatitinmachina for a month is because he’s well aware of the weakness his quirk processes and knows if he uses it too long his flames burn the skin off his body.

Dabi is cautious when it comes to people, as seen when he doubts whether the LOV follow the cause after Himiko’s introduction and didn’t trust Hawks during their partnership.

Dabi is detached to anything in his surroundings to focus on himself and his goals. Dabi is closed mouthed when it comes to sharing info especially details about himself. Capricorns are known for putting a lid on their feelings from others; Dabi keeps things to himself most of the time. He’s tight lipped whenever it comes to details about himself, he brushes off Tomura’s question about his real name, he didn’t share other details about the Nomu to Hawks.

Dabi’s rude and derisive demeanor keeps others at a distance so he would focus on his objective but also puts walls around himself from other people to guard his heart with his cold unemotional sarcastic and detached facade; underneath all that he hides his sentimental side. Dabi’s emotional side that keeps hidden by heavily guarding his heart is seen when he never opens up to the LOV even after he joined. Dabi still put up a distance with them and doesn’t share his true thoughts that easily he keeps himself.

When Dabi remembers Snatch’s words regarding family, he laughs about it while wiping blood from his seam below his eye says with this line “overthought things and kinda snapped there!” When he thinks about Snatch’s words on family some of his emotions flooded out this is where you see a glimpse on his tender heart. We see a personal side of Dabi that he usually keeps hidden.

Even after he joined the LOV, Dabi is seen in the background quietly observing his surroundings with empty eyes though it may seem like he is still being distant with them actually like a capricorn he's not into large groups of people he feels that it’s out of his element he has more a wallflower persona he not someone who prefers large groups of people his introverted nature shows through here.

One thing I read about Capricorns is that their loyalty: but what does loyalty half to do with Dabi?

Dabi might seem loyal to the LOV’s motives but if you look at it differently Dabi uses the LOV for his own gain to complete his goals, much like he does with Hawks. He's loyal to his own interests. Dabi wouldn’t work unless there's something in it for him based on his cooperation is based on those self interests alone. I mentioned before he's using the LOV and Hawks to achieve his own ends even says so to Tomura in Ujiko’s lab that he’s looking out for himself.

Though Dabi has a set of principles based around Stain that he uses in his own set of values. Saying that he's loyal to Stain’s ideals sound no more than an excuse to hide his personal motives. His actions are more personal than what he seems to do.

I believe the part about loyalty has a lot to do with family. If Dabi is Touya this might have more to do with his goal since its related to family. Capricorns are family oriented signs: you can see this similar trait in Ochaco and Shoto, both of whom have motives in becoming heroes linked to their own families. Ochaco wants to become a hero to financially support her parents ; Shoto’s mother is one of his driving forces in becoming a hero during an All Might interview he watched. Just like Ochaco and Shoto, Dabi’s motives are driven by family. Dabi caring about his family is seen as Touya, he played with his siblings and he was close to Natsuo when he was younger.

Capricorns are unforgiving when someone has wronged them. Once you get on their bad side it's impossible to make it back in their favor this will go to the point of vengefulness. Capricorns will hold grudges on others behalf showing how loyal they are to their loved ones. As I previously talked about, Dabi’s own actions are stemmed from hatred which meant that Dabi’s real objective is to get revenge on Endeavor for abusing him and the rest of his family. Dabi is Touya getting revenge on Endeavor would go hand in hand with the vengeful aspect of the Capricorn. Dabi if Touya doesn’t just only want to get revenge on Endeavor for his suffering but the suffering he put the rest of his family through.

Capricorns are winter signs, which might hint that Dabi if Touya has a fire quirk but an ice body.

Another thing I noticed when I was reaching is that this star sign is very complex and contradictory this part would reference Dabi’s entire character in the series. The capricorn having the goat’s torso and the fish tale being both emotional and rational, which says all about Dabi’s character in a nutshell. He claims he is going to fulfill the hero killers will but in reality it's the more in it for himself. Dabi acts cold and logical at the surface but deep down he is emotional and driven. That is what Dabi’s star sign, Capricorn, represents.

Next is Dabi’s height being 176cm. His height bears a striking resemblance to Shoto’s height in his bio.

Dabi and Shoto are foils seen in their bios: their birthdays in the same month with both being capricorn’s, similar height

All this info references Dabi being Shoto’s a villainess parallel, and further hinting at the connection between them.

Last but certainly not least Dabi’s favorite thing is put under as unknown. In MHA, the characters likes in their bios say something about their personality, quirk, and role in the story. Shoto for example his favorite thing is Soba noodles (the kind that aren’t hot).

Soba noodles comes in both hot and cold reference to his quirk half hot half cold. Shoto only liking them it cold referenced on how he favors using the ice side of his quirk, and soba being a traditional Japanese food also refers to Shoto being a traditional Japanese character in design.

Dabi’s favorite things are put under as unknown this further exemplified the mystery of Dabi’s character and further correlates to the mystery he has and his essence being hard to grasp for the audience.

What do you think of Dabi bio does it match with his character? Is there anything I left out?Something I forgot to mention in this post? If you think feel free to put here in the post.

#dabi is a todoroki #Dabi #my meta #meta #touya todoroki #the whole star sign thing took the longest to write #I had to go through pages in order to write ti #but the capricorn star sign matches dabi well #star sign #my last meta of the year

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panharmonium · 5 years ago

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Hey! Loving the Merlin takes on ur blog, and I wanted to ask—what are your opinions on Morgana? Haven’t seen a lot of talk abt her. I loved her, esp in season 1, which is also my fav season cuz after that I feel like things started to make less and less sense, lmao. I understand her descent into villainy (mostly, but why does she start to hate Gwen so quickly? feel like that could’ve been handled better) but I would’ve loved to see some solidarity between her and merlin!!!!!

hi there! :D

so, i LOVE morgana. most of what i’ve said about her has been in the tags of gifsets that are now scattered haphazardly around my blog; i don’t think there are larger pieces yet besides my finale round-up (urgh lol), and most of that is just a function of time - i can’t possibly write expansive tracts of meta about every single merlin thing i love, because i love the whole show; i’d never leave my computer again. i generally sit down to write long essays about whatever grabs my mind at a particular moment, even though there are a bazillion other things out there i love just as much. XD

but with morgana, i also feel like part of the reason i haven’t written much about her is because up until three and a half weeks ago (....oh my god, was it THREE AND A HALF WEEKs??? IT FEELS LIKE A YEAR) i hadn’t even finished the series yet, and the whole time i was watching this show i was sort of...waiting to see whether they would finally tie her arc together. i didn’t feel like i could say too much about what was happening with her, because my evaluation of her arc was going to depend on where the writers finally chose to take it and whether they brought it to the place i thought it needed to go.

and...they didn’t, obviously, which is what i sort of suspected would happen, though i was trying to give them the benefit of the doubt all the way up until the end, because i don’t believe they ever wrote themselves into a corner with her. there were things they could have handled with more depth, definitely, but i do not believe that they ever dug themselves into a hole they couldn’t climb out of.

i. what happened to you, morgana

essentially my opinion (just mine; nobody else is obligated to share it) of morgana is this: that the series ended before her arc was over.

to me, season 5 was the nadir in our characters’ journeys. they had reached their lowest point, their...“darkest hour,” to quote the show itself. and in many familiar storytelling formats (the ones that have the most in common with bbc merlin, at least), we take our characters to a moment where they hit rock bottom, where everything is going wrong and things seem hopeless, and then we light a spark under their butts that starts the process where they fight their way out of it. the nadir isn’t the endpoint of the curve; it’s the point where characters start climbing their long, slow way out of the pit. it’s what they have to overcome in order to earn their eventual triumphant ending.

to me, season 5 was that nadir, for morgana and everyone else. i never would have imagined season 5 to be the final season of the show, if i hadn’t known it was beforehand. i would have read season 5 as the show’s ‘empire strikes back’ moment. the episode that ends with our team losing, but with a whole other episode remaining where they can fight to Make It Right.

i view merlin bbc as tantamount to a cancelled tv show, to be honest. i know that’s not necessarily what happened (though it does feel pretty weird that they officially announced S5 would be the final season only four weeks before the finale was about to air?? very bizarre), but regardless of the actual behind-the-scenes-whatever, the fact of the matter is that for me, the series doesn’t end. it stops. and those two things are not the same.

this is particularly relevant to morgana because, as you said, there are aspects of her character arc that weren’t handled as deftly as they could have been, but if the show had brought morgana’s arc to the place where it felt like they were going in 5.09, they could have rescued so much of what came before.

to get into more detail -

i think the biggest issue with morgana’s arc for me isn’t so much what she does, it’s what we’re not shown as she does it.

i fully believe that morgana would eventually start working to ensure uther’s downfall. (obviously. she’s been presented as the voice of moral authority on this show since episode one, and there’s no reason to believe that she wouldn’t ultimately start rebelling against the king’s oppressive policies.) i believe that she would reject arthur, eventually. and i believe that she would reject gwen, too. but i don’t believe the show illustrates enough how painful this would be for her, or how conflicted it would make her feel.

and again, as i said, there are my own personal opinions, couched in...some personal experience with certain kinds of family conflict - but i do understand where morgana’s bitterness toward arthur and gwen comes from. arthur, for all that he’s “a better man than [his] father,” never fully breaks with uther the way morgana does. he has his own little rebellions, yes, but ultimately he always falls in line. he tolerates his father’s actions even if he doesn’t necessarily agree with them, and he continues to support uther even after uther is revealed to have lied about being morgana’s illegitimate father. and because of this tacit acceptance of uther’s poor behavior, arthur reaps benefits and privileges galore. morgana is cast out with nothing, whereas arthur, who didn’t even take a stand for justice, wants for nothing. arthur is sitting pretty on the throne of camelot because he continued to bestow his honor and respect upon a man who deserved neither of those things, because he chose the villain of the series over his sister, even knowing what uther did to her. and that’s gutting, for her. he betrayed her.

(and there are things to be said on arthur’s end of this, too, of course - morgana doesn’t ever confide in him; she doesn’t come to him for help or give him a chance to even be informed about what happened to her before she jumps into invading camelot and dethroning uther - so for arthur, her sudden turnaround comes as a total shock, and HE feels betrayed, like he has no choice but to fight her - i mean, it’s just a big mess.)

but i understand why she hates him. he continues to stand with a man who did demonstrable evil, despite the harm that was specifically done to morgana herself. and by shutting up and letting atrocities be committed in front of him, arthur escapes the harm that morgana suffers for speaking up. i understand why morgana is so bitter about it.

and gwen is a very similar situation - from morgana’s point of view, gwen is playing the arthur to arthur’s uther. gwen sides with arthur over morgana, despite knowing full well that arthur’s policies harm people with magic. gwen abandons morgana for her love interest, and for morgana that’s just like - “why would you do that? i was your friend before he ever cared about you, i loved you before he ever did - don’t you see the evil he’s perpetuating? don’t you care what he does to people like me?”

that’s why morgana tells merlin, “don’t think i don’t understand loyalty just because i’ve got no one left to be loyal to.” she feels like everybody who supposedly cared for her ultimately dumped her because her situation interfered with their comfortable, morally uncomplicated lives. they weren’t willing to acknowledge what was done to her, and they stuck by the man responsible for it, and it seems incomprehensible to her, that they would make that choice, when his misdeeds are known and out in the open. i can’t blame her for wanting to raze the city to the ground.

HOWEVER.

while i believe that all these things are completely plausible, i don’t believe that the series shows us appropriately how these things would be tearing morgana apart inside, underneath the rage and the armored front of ‘you brought this on yourself, so burn in hell, i don’t care.’

there are moments where the show gets it right. when morgana wakes up after uther dies and says that she felt his pain - it’s not presented as gloating; she’s - almost confused. uncertain. like she doesn’t know what she feels. when she confronts arthur at the end of season 4 (i thought we were friends/as did i) there’s real pain under the surface there. when they confront each other at the beginning of season 5, too (what happened to you, morgana/i grew up) - you can feel the undercurrent of something deeper there, too. and that moment with mordred in 5.09, when he appeals to her humanity (i hope one day you will find the love and compassion which used to fill your heart) - that is an amazing scene. the show absolutely nails that moment. morgana hesitates. you can see the grief and the - the conflict written all over her face. it’s perfect. it’s exactly the turn i would have expected morgana’s arc to be taking, at that time in the series.

but then the show just stopped. and without taking morgana’s arc further - without following it through all the way to its conclusion - there’s never any resolution to all the ways the show dropped the ball earlier. all the moments where morgana appears to be just...evil-smirking her way through her revenge, the way she suddenly seems to have no feelings for gwen whatsoever, the utterly lost opportunity that was the “enchanted gwen” arc (which could have been such a powerful exploration of their broken relationship) - all those could have eventually made sense and fit into a narrative where morgana’s conflicted feelings finally begin to escape the stranglehold in which she has them choked, where we start to see the pain of these destroyed relationships rising to the surface.

i can understand how morgana would just - shut off her feelings about these people. she had to close her heart to them - the alternative would have been too painful. but underneath - we know it wouldn’t be that easy. we know it eats at her. and it’s just - so incredibly frustrating that the series was starting to go there - the moment with mordred in 5.09 feels like the beginning of morgana’s big crisis of faith - and then the show just Stops.

so the thing about morgana for me is that, like you said, the show does drop the ball on illustrating her quick descent into evil-villain territory, and they especially drop the ball on her break with gwen, but all of it could have been salvaged, if they had committed to following her arc all the way through to its conclusion. instead they chose to kill her (and everybody else, lol) just as her deep-rooted internal conflicts were finally starting to rise to the surface.

ii. we can find another way/there is no other way (aka the merlin problem)

i’ll say right up front that anything i say here is, as always, just my personal interpretation of things. this is not necessarily the One True Way this show is meant to be understood; it’s just my own preferred read.

i have definitely seen some things in my brief foray into internet fandom that are sort of...piling on merlin for abandoning morgana or “gaslighting” her, most of which seem to be centered around the beginning of episode 2.03, which is weird to me, because the whole point of that episode is that merlin does help morgana, in the end - he’s the one who doesn’t gaslight her. he defies gaius and takes her to the druids, specifically so they can tell her yes, she does have magic. he tries to distract the attacking knights in order to enable morgana to escape with the druids permanently, like she wants. and when the attempt fails, and they’re brought back to camelot, he comes to morgana’s chambers specifically to check on her and to assure her that he won’t reveal her secret to anyone, and she’s grateful for this - she thanks him, she’s appreciative of everything he did for her, she feels comforted to know the truth and to know that someone else knows it, too. this episode ends with their relationship at a high point - it’s overwhelmingly positive, and it doesn’t take a nosedive until 1.12, when morgana gets in way over her head and merlin thinks she’s trying to murder them all. (and even in that episode, it’s worth it to note, merlin is still covering for her magic in front of arthur, giving her chances.)

(and obviously also, of course, the end of that particular situation gets Real Bad Real Fast, which could be a whole post in and of itself, so let’s stay focused on the earlier eps, for now.)

the criticism of merlin in those earlier episodes seems to stem solely from the fact that he doesn’t out himself to morgana, which i can understand - i mean, i like the idea of a ‘merlin+morgana secret magic squad’ AU as much as anyone - but i’ll be honest and say that nowadays, i’m not quite as willing to condemn him for it as i might have been on my first viewing.

i’m not willing to condemn him for it at all, actually.

(and again - as i said, these are my own opinions! everybody else is welcome to have different opinions! we all engage with media differently, and there isn’t a right or wrong way to approach this situation, just whichever way feels best to you.)

so, for me, i’m not interested anymore in telling merlin that he should have revealed himself to anyone, at that point in the story. it would be different if he had been like - continuing to tell morgana ‘oh, no, you don’t have magic, don’t be crazy,’ or if he had been pretending to hate magic like everyone else so he could blend in, but he doesn’t do that, at the end of the episode. he sends her to the druids. he chases after her when he realizes she's in danger. he openly acknowledges her magic, he supports her in having it, he makes sure she knows she has nothing to fear from him. by the end of 2.03, he’s gone to great lengths to help her; he’s already made certain that she knows he’s on her side and that she can trust him. she clearly knows that he accepts her and that he supports her - those are his responsibilities to her as a fellow human and as a friend, and those are exactly the responsibilities he makes sure to fulfill. she knows her secret is safe with him.

now - whether or not merlin feels safe enough to out himself, after making sure morgana knows he accepts and supports her, is his own business.

i think there are a number of reasons why it wouldn’t be fair for me to criticize merlin for continuing to conceal his secret, the first of which is something i already mentioned in another piece - that a marginalized person’s first responsibility is to their own safety, when forced into hiding under oppressive social conditions. merlin isn’t obligated to reveal himself for anybody. he’s not obligated to put himself in danger out of some kind of...responsibility to the community. (not at this point, anyway. it gets more complicated later, as merlin becomes more powerful, which i also address in that other piece, but that’s all in the future for him and not relevant at this moment.)

i think it would be easy for me to forget that merlin isn’t safe, in the early seasons. we’re so used to thinking of merlin as ‘the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth,’ because that’s what we keep being told he’s going to become, but again, that’s all so far in the future for him. merlin in the early seasons can do some things with his abilities, but not consistently, and not to the level where we can reasonably expect him to resist the entirety of camelot’s army, if they were to come for him. merlin is in real danger, and he’s not evil for being unwilling to share a secret about himself that would ensure his death, if it somehow got back to the wrong people.

second - i don’t think it would be fair for me to discount merlin’s personal history, either. merlin’s life didn’t start in camelot, and he hasn’t even been in camelot for all that long, comparatively, by the time we get to S2. season one takes place over a few months, starting in either spring or summer and ending in the fall (after the referenced harvest in 1.10/1.11, but before winter sets in). the weather is nice by time season 2 starts, so we can probably assume that S2 takes place once winter has passed (although, it’s technically possible that S2 takes place over the same autumn as S1, I guess...but it’s not made clear to us, timeline-wise.) either way, we just really have to remember that merlin’s stay in camelot by the time we reach 2.03 is still this blip compared to the rest of his life.

it would be very easy for me to say that merlin should have told morgana, that there’s no way she would ever have given him up - and i probably would have said that very thing, after the first time i watched the show - but like - nowadays, i really think i have to step back from that certainty and be a little more gentle. we say we “know” that morgana wouldn’t have willingly betrayed merlin’s secret at that point, and sure, i agree, that’s probably true - but does merlin know that?

of course not!

i think he hopes that. i think he would dearly like to believe that. i also think merlin grew up in a situation where he couldn’t fully trust even the people he’d known all his life, with two (vital!!!) exceptions, and he has been in camelot with a bunch of brand-new people for less than a year, and he can’t be certain of them, however much he wants to be. (and that’s not even considering the possibility of accidental betrayals, or coerced ones - remember, the witchfinder shows up in S2 also, as just one example.)

remember that exchange merlin has with freya, later this season?

“you can’t always trust people.”

“i know. that’s why i left home.”

merlin is not used to showing himself to people. he has been taught all his life to NEVER, EVER show himself to anybody. everyone in camelot who finds out about his magic finds out either by accident (like gaius or lancelot), or necessity (like freya and gilli - though gilli is interesting, because i think merlin’s decisions there are motivated precisely by the choices he didn’t make with morgana - which i’ll go into more later).

in twenty-odd years, merlin has only ever told one person about his magic. and even that generous assumption requires a little bit of inferencing for us to determine, though i think it’s likely enough, if not confirmable.

(i am, in case it’s unclear, referencing 1.10, when merlin is explaining to will why hunith sent him away to camelot: “when she found out you knew - she was so angry.” that, to me, has always been a signifier that merlin told will about his magic, as opposed to will finding out by coincidence. i know there are a lot of headcanons floating around out there about various...accidental situations that may have occurred which forced merlin to reveal his magic in front of will, and those are all obviously totally fun to play with, but after hearing this particular line - i never understood that to be the case, to be honest. we’ve seen hunith enough to have a pretty solid understanding of her character. she and merlin are always easy and gentle together, she’s so kind and calm and thoughtful - i can’t imagine that she wouldn’t have understood, if there had been some kind of accident that forced merlin’s hand. she’d be just as afraid for his future safety, of course, and she would have wished he’d told her right away, but she wouldn’t have been “so angry.”

...she might, however, have been “so angry” if she’d found out that merlin had specifically undermined every sacrifice she’d ever made to keep him safe/ignored every single one of her warnings/rejected every cautious thing she’d been telling him for his entire life and TOLD somebody about his magic when it wasn’t remotely necessary. that’s the only scenario i can imagine that would prompt merlin to say “she was SO angry” in that half-awed, half-intimidated tone, with that little headshake, like it was such a singular event, like it’s still formidable for him to remember.)

so anyway, that said - it’s too easy for me to say ‘he should have told morgana/gwaine/gwen etc; they would never have turned on him,’ as if it would have been such a simple thing for him to do, as if there were no dangers associated with their knowledge even if they would never have willingly given him up, as if he was refusing to do it because he didn’t want to, or because his fears were overblown, or because he was foolish for thinking they would ever hate him for his gifts. i think that really minimizes the reality of his struggle, and the danger of his situation. without the pressure of some crisis to force his hand, merlin has only ever willingly revealed himself to one person. that person is dead. that person died specifically ensuring that merlin could stay safe and hidden from the rest of the world, morgana included - merlin’s continued secrecy is a gift that was bought at an impossibly high price, and it’s not simple for him to contemplate squandering it, especially with no guarantee that things will turn out okay.

because there IS no guarantee that things will turn out okay! a lot of the “merlin should have told morgana” online talk centers around the idea that knowing about merlin’s magic would have kept morgana from feeling alone/betrayed, thus preventing her from turning to the “evil” methods she uses later, but again, i don’t think we actually know that at all. solidarity between merlin and morgana would have been a nice thing, definitely; i’d like to see that too, but i don’t think the fact that she and merlin are both magic-users would have guaranteed harmony between them. merlin and gilli are both magic-users, too, and merlin expects this to be enough to convince gilli to “see the light,” but the fact of the matter is that merlin and gilli just have very different ideas about what it means to do the right thing. merlin thinks it means biding his time and waiting for change to come from the top (because he’s been TOLD by greater powers that this is the right course of action, of course; let’s note again that merlin’s situation is extremely complicated) whereas gilli thinks that doing things merlin’s way makes merlin complicit with an unjust regime. gilli says ‘i shouldn’t haven’t to wait for someone else to give me my rights. i’m going to take them myself.’

the fact that merlin and gilli share a bond as magic-users doesn’t protect them from an ideological divide that puts them on different sides of the same struggle. i’m not sure that merlin and morgana wouldn’t have still ended up in the same situation, eventually, if merlin had chosen to out himself to her - but doing so would certainly have made him a thousand times more vulnerable to attack.

third - it’s also important to remember that if we’re going to hold merlin to this rigid ‘he should have told morgana everything/confided in her/trusted her at the expense of possibly his own life despite the fact that she exists at the completely opposite end of a rigid social hierarchy as him and he’s known her for less than a year’ then maybe we ought to raise the bar for morgana, as well. morgana is very clearly shown to trust and appreciate merlin at the end of 2.03, but by 2.11, when alvarr and mordred show up and convince her to steal the crystal of neahtid, she doesn’t hesitate or come to merlin at all, despite the fact that we never see him do anything to lose her trust between then and now. she never asks him for help, even when she’s uncertain about alvarr’s methods, and that leaves merlin in the dark, only privy to confusing images of her sneaking around and acting suspicious. and even with that, merlin doesn’t condemn her for what she does, the same way he doesn’t blame her when she tries to kill uther in 1.12 - he helps arthur retrieve the crystal, but he doesn’t give morgana up. and he doesn’t hold any kind of grudge, either - in the next episode, merlin doesn’t even suspect her, at first - he thinks it must be her magic protecting her; he doesn’t even consider the idea that she has anything to do with the illness, not until kilgharrah tells him.

and even after that, he STILL covers for her in front of arthur, and he gives her a chance to come clean to him - but she doesn’t take it.

i’m not condemning her for that - i get why she would be afraid to admit to such a big mess - she was in way over her head and didn’t know what to do. but if we’re going to cut morgana this much slack and accept her fears as a valid enough reason to block a potential moment of connection, then we have to accept that merlin’s fears were valid, too - morgana’s descent into “villainy” was not something we can pin solely on merlin’s already overburdened shoulders. the end of season 2 was not some kind of one-way failure.

in summary: merlin and morgana were trapped in an impossible situation. they were both victims of the same oppressive regime, and both of them had very real, very dangerous obstacles to letting themselves trust in and reach out to others, and i think pitting them against each other while forgetting who the real villain was is unfair to them both.

also, a brief postscript: circling back to the first section of this piece, where i talked about how season 5 just stopped before anyone’s arc was finished - merlin and morgana could have had so much more, if we’d gotten another season. their relationship is really in the pits, by season 5, but there is this deleted scene where arthur is reflecting on what happened to morgana and blaming himself, and merlin says arthur shouldn’t take the blame, that “there were others better placed to help morgana” (implicating, of course, himself) and that was SUCH a jumping off point for their story to have continued. merlin wanted to do better by her. he blamed himself for what happened to her. and morgana, for her part, was starting to question herself, as we saw during her confrontation with mordred in 5.09.

there were places for this relationship to go. it wasn’t a lost cause. but the writers decided that it made more sense to just...eliminate everybody at the exact moment when things were poised to possibly change.

the story wasn’t over at the end of season 5. but the show was, and i am always going to regret those many lost opportunities.

#the once and future slowburn #meta #replies #long post

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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years ago

Text

Young God - Sheriff of Nottingham x Reader (Robin Hood 2018)

GIF Credit: X

Author’s Note: For @mandy23b 💜💙 I hope you don’t die reading this, but if you do, consider it my last gift! I don’t thank you enough ❤🙏 But for one heck of an incredible time knowing you, I’m sorry that my writing is all I have to give 🙏 Please accept this humble gift 😘

Young God - Halsey

Disclaimer: Lyrics not mine / gif not mine / Robin Hood characters & the world of this particular movie, also not mine!

Premise: You were sure that the reason he’d suggested bathing was to relax you, and you’re certainly going to make the most of your alone time... What you really should expect is The Sheriff of Nottingham to have other plans.

Words: 6079

Warnings: Sinday/Sunday Smut / Swearing

______ He says, "Ooh, baby girl, you know we're gonna be legends I'm a king and you're a queen and we will stumble through heaven If there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes I know you wanna go to heaven, but you're human tonight"

And I've been sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool For a while now, drowning my thoughts out with the sounds

But do you feel like a young god? You know the two of us are just young gods And we'll be flying through the streets with the people underneath And they're running, running, running But do you feel like a young god? You know the two of us are just young gods And we'll be flying through the streets with the people underneath And they're running, running, running again

He says, "Oh, baby girl, don't get cut on my edges I'm the king of everything and oh, my tongue is a weapon There's a light in the crack that's separating your thighs And if you wanna go to heaven you, should fuck me tonight"

---

Steam rose off the water, obscuring the view of the city laid out before you. It was mid-morning and beyond the walls of the castle you could already hear Nottingham settling into the day, the sun was rising steadily and you knew it was going to end up a nice one, too. Although right now the bath house was in the shade, the sun still glittered on the surface of the water as it seeped through the open stone walls – close to windows with the way they were patterned in ornate leaves and spirals. Your eyes lowered back to the water, bathing wasn’t uncommon to you – but in a pool of this sheer size, you thought you were more likely to swim in it. And as the vapour continued to roll like ribbons to the ceiling, you also weren’t sure of the last time you’d been in something this hot. The water was smooth and perfectly reflected everything about the world around it, similar to the polished mirrors in the Sheriff’s chambers and office; except his had a little more distortion to them. Your eyes traced to the steps in front of you; the edge of the water lapping gently against them, heat inviting, and you swallowed. This was not an experience likely to be given to you often; what with the way he’d walked up to you today more casually than you could believe, sweeping your hair off your neck, delicate fingers brushing your skin and making you shiver before he’d even placed a kiss there – that silky smooth voice and his hot breath against your ear suggesting maybe you would like to unwind up here. He’d never offered it before, and he certainly made it sound once in a life time… Still, you weren’t sure what to expect from The Sheriff; he played so many games so expertly that you couldn’t tell which way was up half the time – how he kept track would amaze you. He at least seemed straight with you, he kept you close and he didn’t take other lovers; you supposed with you he didn’t need to – although it was apparent by the way he was lorded over that some would beg at his feet for the chance of just one night, just a glimpse, just one taste of the lips that spilled so many words to Nottingham so skilfully. And those you observed flaunting this kind of behaviour included women and men – and by the way The Sheriff would smirk often, but speak so humbly, let you know he knew exactly what he was doing and his sex appeal. He liked to remind you of this, and often; but you weren’t without your admirers and he knew that too – meaning you got to remind him that he wasn’t the only man in Nottingham that wanted you, but was the only one that could have you. You slid your dress from your shoulders, down your body to your hips – the chill in the air making your skin prickle like he did, when he stood so close and whispered things he really shouldn’t. When he took your wrist in Church and said something so casually sinful that you wanted to drag both of you into confessional. And that silver tongue wasn’t just good at talking – you shivered again as your dress slipped from your thighs to the floor, and this time the cold had nothing to do with it. You padded down the few steps, until the water was lazily lapping your toes, another step and you smiled at the warmth – very nearly too hot, but the temperature didn’t bother you so much, reaching back you swept your hair much as he had, and you closed your eyes, imagining his fingers tracing you, and pressing kisses into your shoulder. You moved your hand down your body in the same way he would – you almost had the pattern of his fingertips memorized, down your ribs and across your stomach, you took another step and then another until the water was mid-thighs before you slipped your hand between them too. You gasped, with a gentle lip bite – imagining the heat of his body flush against yours, with the way he would grip your hips and your wrists, bite marks across your shoulders, your collar and up your neck. Your next tentative step had the water up to your navel, but you were hardly focused on the warmth of the water surrounding you; your fingertips might not have been as harsh as his and certainly nothing would feel like he did, but they made a good substitute – especially when it was him you could imagine touching you like this. The steam curled around you and suddenly you could feel his hot breath against your neck, his panting in your ear – the way his voice would growl as he said something just as delicious, but infinitely more sinful, when his body was tangled with yours. Your breathing hitched, and you realised that if you were going to do this to yourself and think of him, and not very nearly drown in your own lust, you would have to find purchase. Your body already tingled, as you pushed through the water – you were right, you could swim the bathing pool, and you floated to the other side with no problem. Around the edge of the bath was a ledge, another good guess on your part, and you sat for a moment, back pressed up against the stone. For a minute you remained there in silence with a serene smile, and let yourself settle in the hot water; but your body reminded you of more pressing issues before you had the chance to really relax yourself in it. Here you could spread your legs open, fingertips teasing – this was a hell of a lot easier when The Sheriff couldn’t deny you what you were really craving, but it was still his voice you could hear in your ear; ‘Tell me what you want Darling’ ‘Hmm? Like this?’ and the way he chuckled when you were desperate. Damn him. You bit your lips again, a little harder; although no one was around you still felt the need to stifle the sighs that were quickly becoming moans. You were so used to his teasing that you were doing it to yourself – but it always felt so good. This time his name spilled off your lips and you just let it – desperate and wanton, the way your hips moved for someone that wasn’t between them. This time you whined, because you could do this yourself – but you wanted him. You wanted him to pin you here, to wrap your legs around his waist, whether he made love to you slowly or fucked you so hard that you wouldn’t be out of bed until at least the following afternoon. This time your moan was so loud it echoed around the walls of the bath, and you felt yourself heat up in embarrassment – your body ached for him, and your imagination could give you so much, but it couldn’t give you his physical presence, his inviting scent and the way he tasted. Your body was yearning for him, and you were already on the edge, this time as you touched yourself your gasp was louder; “Sheriff, please!” You were desperate and sounded it; all you could see was his smirk and those haunting blue eyes encouraging you to finish yourself. There was a chuckle from the other side of the room and despite the heat of the bath you suddenly felt cold; “Would you like some help?” Your eyes snapped open immediately and you dropped lower into the water. The Sheriff was leaning back, with one foot up against the stone wall on the other side of the bath house – giving no indication as to how long he’d been there, but the sinful smirk on his face and the lust that rimmed his eyes said it all. As you sunk into the water, clearly embarrassed, he stepped forward, “Oh… Y/N…” He was letting your name roll of his lips that way on purpose, and your body shivered, you wanted to moan immediately, glad you were in as deep as you were. “…Now don’t hide from me…” He didn’t take his eyes from yours, shrugging off his coat and walking slowly towards the water. You were still blushing as he unbuckled the clasp on his jacket, pulling that from his shoulders just as lazily, setting to work on his boots; “Come on…” He coaxed, “Show me…” You swallowed hard again, raising your body to your shoulders, and then upon the insistence of his eyes to just above your breasts. You bit your lip and fixed your eyes back on the water, the smooth glossy look from before long gone. “Oh, Y/N…” He repeated, removing his shirt and dropping it to the floor, “If you want me to assist you’ll have to give me a little more than that…” Problem was you were still able to see his reflexion in the water, and the teasing way he rested his hand on his waistband, one button undone; and you couldn’t help your low whine of anticipation. Not helped by the room’s amplification of it. The problem was you were aching for him and he knew that. Your eyes raised back to his; the way his stance was cocky, very nearly daring you, “I believe you just begged me. In truth you might not have known I was here, but how fortunate that I happened by…” He took a step back, “I could always leave.” That had you surging through the water towards him before you even knew what you were doing, pang of desire too great to ignore. The Sheriff chuckled. “Oh…my, my… you’re desperate…” He very nearly said it soothingly, and he tipped his head with a smile, “Come on darling, let me see you…” You returned to the ledge, sitting and straightened your back; causing him to bite his lip, hands continuing to dawdle on his buttons – “That’s my girl…” He made your gaze hold his as he striped himself slowly from his pants, and once again you visibly shook and he wasn’t about to bother hiding his smirk as he kicked them to one side. His walk was just as slow down the steps, and your body was already taking deep panting breaths – if you had the audacity to grab him and pull him in you would have, but those blue eyes of his were enough to keep you still. He was built lean and strong, and you’d always admired his body for that – his posture was damn near perfect, wide shoulders and toned arms – his large hands were enough to drive you crazy on their own… He was clean, and neat – hair always groomed into place. Essentially this man looked as good in clothes as he did out of them. Only there weren’t many people these days who got to see him out of them. He had just the right muscle structure too, and just enough of them – across his back lay his only real flaws, jagged lines from incidents long past that he would certainly rather not talk about. But the texture of them under your fingertips when he lay his head on your chest in the afterglow was very nearly too smooth – and sometimes he would take your hands in his to stop you. That would only make you cradle his head closer, apologetic that he’d ever been through something so horrific. Today however, there was nothing apologetic about him as he stalked down the steps – and you found yourself unable to look away from his smart eyes – pushing off from the bottom step The Sheriff glided through the water with ease and had you backing up against the wall again as he placed his hands either side of you – catching yours under them. The ripples created from his movement licked gently at your body, but it was no longer the heat of the water affecting you; his lips were inches from yours and yet you knew he would deny you a kiss.

“How is it that I may help you, dearest?” He breathed, sending further tremors over your skin. You knew he wanted you to say it – to really beg for him. Right now you thought you would only be capable of timidly stammering an enquiry. “Sh…Sheriff I…” You shuddered once more as your body reminded you that it needed attention, and you couldn’t help whining. “Hmm?” He coaxed, tilting his head, eyes sweeping the lines and curves of your form exposed to him – leaving your hands he traced your thighs, using his palms to push them apart – eliciting another gasp from you – your hips grinding at the movement, imploring you for relief. He moved his palms to your inner thighs slowly, placing his body between them; the skin to skin contact was almost too much, but you couldn’t wiggle any further back and soon his chest was pressed to yours. “Tell me darling… And I will give you anything…” The Sheriff was only feeding you temptation but he knew that, and you whimpered; at this rate your body was dangerously close to coming undone without any assistance but the tone of his voice. His lips practically grazed yours, but still he didn’t give you the gratification of a kiss; “Maybe you’re just a little incapable of speaking?” You decided it was best to nod, and he seemed satisfied enough at that, “Are you enjoying my suggestion my darling?” Another nod, accompanied by a moan as this time his fingers moved to tease you. A smirk toyed with his face, as you arched your body – having nowhere to go but push up into his. The Sheriff knew exactly how to touch you, and his teasing became almost relentless – and so did your mix of moans, gasps and pants; “Sh-Sheriff… P-please…” You just about managed, voice elated and shaking at your pleasure as he teased your clit with his thumb once more. “Ah. She speaks…” His kiss was not to your lips, but your neck, and it was accompanied by a gentle nip – the contact sent a searing wave of heat through you and you gasped again; louder than before. He chuckled, “Keep this up…” voice at a whisper, “and the whole of Nottingham will be hearing how well I pleasure you, darling…” He wasn’t even trying to hide the smirk this time, “I would certainly like that…” Hands back to resting on your thighs as he felt another violent shake from you, he swallowed your protests with his lips; tongue gliding across yours as he pushed you back against the cool stone and explored you. One of your hands tentatively ran his chest, curling around his neck and pulling him in further – but he didn’t let your legs tangle around him. Releasing your lips The Sheriff searched your eyes for a moment, smirk still very much present on his face as he pushed back in the water. You grasped for him but he hushed you once more, “Now, now, I’m not going anywhere… Just enjoy it.” It? What on Earth was he talking about, of course you were enjoy it, but you think you’d enjoy it an awful lot more if he finished you – whether he did it with his hands or he pushed inside you himself. A sweet ache between your legs had you biting your lip and releasing him to touch yourself again – you couldn’t take this, and your body had been screaming at you for far longer than it should have; but he was quick, and pinned your hands back again. “No. No. Where do you think you’re going?” He shook his head, “My, my, you’re an impatient one today… That only makes me think I should have you wait.” his left hand ran from the water up your side, taking the opposite path to usual; leaving trails of droplets over your skin that you couldn’t help but fixate on, along with the graze of the metal of that signet ring across your bare skin – moving over your ribs to your breast, caressing your nipple. You lurched again - body on fire. The Sheriff only chuckled as he continued to play with you, “Will you stay still for me, darling?” You squeezed your eyes shut with another nod, anything now to have him do what you wanted. “Make sure you do.” That was a warning, but this time he left you with a chaste kiss, “Now, how about I put my tongue to better use than a town hall meeting, hm?” In your haze you hadn’t quite registered what he’d said, but as you replayed it in your head your eyes flew open just in time to watch him descend beneath the water – a wave of panic and pleasure seized you and you found yourself backing up against the stone again, his hands were back on your thighs; holding you firm and steady and open for him, and you could only wait in anticipation of his trail of kisses. The trail was shorter than usual, and they were harsh, you only managed half a shake before his tongue was against your clit – and your body sang, forcing you to tip your head back and cry out. You’d need to sit in that confession booth for at least the next week at this rate. You found yourself not caring. For once he wasn’t trying to tease you (though the consideration of air might factor into that), but that didn’t mean he wasn’t delicate and the feel of him circling and massaging your clit made you moan again in ecstasy - Oh-! Let all of Nottingham hear me – this feels so fucking good!; besides you thought by now the whole castle could probably tell what was happening in here. The Sheriff removed one hand from your thigh and wasn’t shy about removing his mouth from you for a moment – only to run his thumb back over your clit and push his tongue deep into your core. “Sheriff-!” You couldn’t help but reach out to steady yourself against his shoulders; hand placement a pretty solid guess – but the feeling of him inside you like this only made you wish that it was his cock and you could hear his groans mix with yours and his call of your name as he finished within you. You shuddered again, and it didn’t stop – at the thought alone, or the sensation of what he was doing to you. “OH! God-! Yes-! Ah-! S-S-sh-Sheriff-! I-!” It didn’t matter that he couldn’t hear you; (though even under the water he likely could) you couldn’t help crying his name. You were throbbing, and with one last skilful flick of his tongue you came for him.

He resurfaced moments later; skin tinted pink with the heat of the bath, breathing deep with hands settling either side of you again, that heat radiated to warm you. The water had turned his hair darker than its usual tarnished silver, and he allowed you to neaten it back with your fingers. You were panting, and watching the water droplets as they chased themselves down his jaw, neck and chest, before running a little lower than you could see. That only made you bite your lip again. The Sheriff’s cool blue eyes were still rimmed with lust as he watched yours burn a little brighter – but your lip bite made him chuckle, and he pressed his lips to yours once more. You could immediately taste the salty-sweetness of yourself mixed with the clean way he usually tasted; accompanied with a slight hint of alcohol and ink. You pulled back to let it linger on your tongue for a moment – that was probably from trying to get his quill to flow when he was writing – draft notices again, probably. Either that or the notes for his speech today; or accounting. He always liked numbers; sometimes he’d even do that type of admin with a small smile on his face. He touched his forehead to yours; “Did you enjoy that?” “Yes…” You breathed, allowing him to catch your lips again, “Do… you have to leave?” it was a hesitant enquiry, but he smirked at the notion. “Oh, I do believe I will have enough time for you – the water is still warm…” The Sheriff shifted you gently to the edge of the seating, allowing you to this time wind your legs around him, “We best not waste it, little one…” You blushed gently and he grazed his lips to yours. Your body was still tingling as you wound your arms around him, and you whined before he’d even entered you. But once he did, the feel of him inside you once more so soon made you bite down on his lip – it was accidental, but you pulled a delicious growl from him that suddenly made you not care. You only received a harsher kiss for your efforts as he rolled his hips over yours – the friction had your nails digging into his shoulders; Lord have mercy… Or maybe not. Maybe you didn’t want mercy now. “Tell me what you want darling…” Although he was already moving, thrusts refined as he awaited your decision, “I will give you whatever you want…” His kiss to your shoulder was teasing. But your breathed decision had him smirking into your skin; “Have your way with me, Sheriff, I beg you.” The Sheriff adjusted his position, gripping your hips so that his thrusts would hit your core harder – he wanted you gasping for breath and panting his name, writhing against the stone behind you and pleading for him to let you finish. And for a moment his eyes caught a glimpse of the Church through the decorative ‘windows’ that only made his grip on your hips tighten, and you whimpered against the feel of his fingernails digging into you – but he couldn’t help it. Leaning his head on yours he hushed you in soothing tones, but he kept his eyes on the building. Fuck that. Heaven was right here. His smirk was wicked as he changed his tempo, and you clung to him in the same way your walls clenched around him. A growl ripped through his body again, as he continued to thrust harder into you – and his moans began to mix with yours. The quiet bath house was filled with sounds of pleasure and ecstasy, and yet even that wasn’t enough for him – he needed you to voice it. Staring at the Church meant he needed you to voice it. “Tell me who you belong to, dearest? Who’s are you?” “Yours…” Your panted blissfully, every inch of you was tingling and yet you greedily just wanted more and more from him – it couldn’t end yet. You didn’t want it to end yet. Sins be damned, you’d have him. And he had to know that he was hitting you just right. “Mine.” He growled it again, agreeing, sending further shivers down your spine. “And by the end of today I want even the King of England to know it.” Well if that didn’t automatically make you call his name a little louder, then nothing would. He chuckled, kissing you once more; “OH, Y/N, you are too good to me, darling.” You were incredibly close; how you could not be?, he’d already had you climaxing once, and you knew you couldn’t last as long as he wanted you too. And the pitch of your voice let him know that, the shudder running through your body flush against his. The Sheriff nipped your ear, breath hot against it; “Are you going to cum for me? Darling? Are you?” You couldn’t help but clench around him tighter at that; and it was going to be hard with him talking to you the way he was. “Oh?” He breathed again at the feel of you around him, you were incredibly close and that only made him slam into you faster, harder, “You feel so good when I fuck you like this… Y/N…” you squeezed your eyes shut and cried out again, burying your face in his shoulder. Did he have any idea how incredible he felt when he did this to you?! “S-Sheriff-!” You begged “I see you also like it when my tongue spills sentences that are so delightfully sinful…” “Fuck.” You sighed into his shoulder, “Fuck!” and in that moment you wanted to curse him for talking at all. He chuckled again, and one more hard thrust took you back over the edge and into the stars. His name spilled from your lips as a hazy whine, as your body completely tightened around his – and the total embrace meant he came two thrusts later, heat spilling into you and only making you moan again. He wasn’t one for calling your name so often – and you weren’t stupid enough to think he’d do it in a semi-public space. Still, as he pulled from you and relaxed, lust in his eyes replaced with a blue the likes of which you’d never seen before as he rode out his own high, he did whisper it. The Sheriff’s next kiss was lazy as you pulled him in – flipping you so he was sitting on the ledge, you straddling his lap. You ached, but for now it was a sweet ache… and you wondered how you’d do with getting around the grounds the rest of today – maybe even tomorrow… For now though you wanted nothing more than to melt into him and his kisses. His hands strayed up your back in gentle circles, soothing you. But The Sheriff let you settle with him and slid his body further into the water. “I suppose it’s in our best interests to actually bathe…” “I believe that’s why you asked me to come up here…” “Don’t believe that’s what you were doing.” He winked – brushing his lips to your cheek, making you blush again, “You had no trouble joining me.” “To provide assistance.” He smirked, kissing your collar bone – “You didn’t seem to mind.” He was right of course, but you simply shook your head before recapturing his lips slipping your arms back around his neck. But your kiss was as lazy and sluggish as his was – head cloudy with the remnants of the rush you were still coming down from. He cuddled you to his chest, running a hand through your hair he tipped his head back and closed his eyes. You ran your hand over him, curling yourself up into his body and the sound of his heartbeat; closing your eyes to the gentle rhythm. He rested his head on yours, and every so often would place a careful kiss to your forehead. But before long the bells of the Church chimed and his eyes opened with an unforgiving sigh. “…Ah. That gives me about half an hour before I am to gather the Lords once more…” “No…” You whined as he shifted you from his lap, kissing your cheek and then your lips, “Hush now, my darling, this was for you after all.” You slipped back into the water with a pout as he swam back across, running his hands through his hair again as he exited the pool – you found yourself biting your lip once more to watch the water run off him. He grabbed a towel, to dry himself quickly; back still to you, the sunlight beautifully catching all facets of his body – the way his muscles dipped and curved to make him up – the strength in his spine and his legs. The Sheriff was tall, and you admired that about him also, he used it to his advantage. It was one of the few things about him that really made you feel powerless, especially when his aim was to be threatening. Not often towards you, but the way he would tower over you sometimes made you timid. He knew you were watching him, and as he buttoned up his pants again he turned to you; “You should stay…” By now you’d snuck yourself to the bottom step, and were leaning your elbows on it to marvel at him “…You won’t get the chance often… It’s good for you.” “And yet you would be content to leave me alone?” The Sheriff slipped his shirt on with a smile; “If only I could stay, my love.” “Then stay.” Your eyes did their best to entice him back, but as he buckled his jacket and picked up his coat you knew it wasn’t going to work. “Would that I could…” He breathed, approaching the edge to pull his boots back on. “You know that I would spend the rest of my afternoon fucking you here… and when it got too cold to stay…” he smirked, “I’d simply carry you back to my chambers…” Your body gave a lurch to betray the excitement of the prospect and he chuckled. Pulling his leather overcoat on to complete his look he crouched at the edge of the water to watch you, his head tilted slightly, smile crooked – “Stay, my darling, and I will see you later. Duty calls.” You folded your arms, hoping that you looked clearly unimpressed. He only gave a shrug, “I know. I’m the worst.” “They are the worst.” “Wouldn’t disagree…” He stood, eyes still tracing your body through the water and paused for just a little too long for you not to smirk

“Now, are you going to leave a young lady to bathe or what?” “Alright… I’m going.” He indicated to the door, “Until later, my darling, enjoy it.” He walked away from the bath and then halted at the door once more before turning back to you; “I shall have to make sure the castle doesn’t gossip so much, hmm?” Then he smirked again, “You are permitted to think of me, in my absence… I hope to hear more later.” With that he left, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, knowing that the Sheriff wasn’t about to let you hear the end. You sighed, and threw yourself back into the water. ***

You woke a little later than you anticipated, on his side of the bed. Although you were alone, the shuffling you could hear in the room meant he was still here, and it was still warm. You groaned, not quite wanting to leave, and tentatively stretched your body out to survey the damage, the ache was there, but it wasn’t noticeable unless you really moved and it didn’t pulse under your skin. Hopefully that was because you’d relaxed enough in the water and not because it hadn’t set in yet. The Sheriff came into view, striding around the side of the bed to retrieve parchment, and his ring, from the side table. He glanced to you, and smiled to see that you were awake, running a hand through your hair to neaten it up, then grazing his thumb over your lips for good measure. You followed his pull away, not quite ready to relinquish his touch either. “Good morning…” He didn’t raise his voice above a murmur, “As much as I didn’t want to wake you, if you stay in my bed much longer you’ll miss this week’s town hall…” You groaned, sitting yourself up to receive a gentle kiss, “I can just hear it from in here…” “You will not accompany me?” He went back to his mirror to finish getting dressed “No…” You voice was still sleepy, “Surely you can survive one without me?” “Mmm…” He made a noise like he wasn’t sure and tipped his head from side to side, “This is Nottingham town hall we’re talking about.” You chuckled, understanding the sentiment, “May I help you?” The Sheriff paused, and turned back to you with a confident smile – his jacket was on but he hadn’t fastened anything yet; “Come here.” You crawled across the bed eagerly and slipped off the end, running to him. “Mhm, that’s what I thought…” “Hush…” You stole another kiss from him as you fastened his undershirt at the collar and buckled his jacket across his chest, but of course he didn’t hush. “I also know you’re now completely comfortable with this. And you’re running so… perhaps a nice alternative-” You narrowed your eyes slightly, “Completely comfortable? I wasn’t exactly expecting assistance.” Not that you weren’t extremely grateful, “Besides, I thought you were into me not being able to move following certain… misadventures.” He smirked, eyebrow raising to the word misadventures, “Oh, if you do so insist it be that way…!” You tsked him, taking a step back, “As long as you are not offering this to every lady in Nottingham?” “No, besides,” His hands framed your face for a moment as he studied you, “Who out there would give me what you have?” “Every other girl would drag you in and do that herself… Or jump out. That might be TOO comfortable…” The Sheriff blinked a few times, and you weren’t sure if he was trying to erase it or envision it. You kissed him hard to make sure it was the former, before crossing the room to collect his overcoat. He turned his back and held his arms out for you to slip it over his shoulders, you rounded him again to pull it straight and brush him down. “I know you know it, but you do look good.” He laughed, “Oh, but I would like to hear it from you.” “I’m sure…” You gripped his coat a little tighter and drew him into you, grazing your lips to his again, his hands cupped your ass as he pulled your body flush to his – but you weren’t in the mood for gasping this morning, only lacing your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his hair. “You know…” He nudged your head to send a trail of feral kisses down your jawline and neck, pulling at the fastenings of your nightdress to expose your shoulder to him, kisses becoming licks and bites, “Maybe it’s a good thing you’re not coming with me…” The Sheriff pulled your dress off your shoulders, but you caught his hands.

For a second his icy blue eyes didn’t look so happy about the predicament; which you could especially understand after the way you’d given yourself to him yesterday. But today was a new day – and your stopping him wasn’t completely unheard of. This morning you felt playful, and with the way he held you close to him you could feel the effect of that on him. You teased another kiss from him – dress now cut across your shoulders. “I know what you want, Sheriff… But waiting here for you all day will simply get boring.” “Ah…” He held you tighter to him, “Not all day, simply my speech.” He wasn’t ready to give up yet, lips catching yours again. “All---.Day.” You took a step out of his arms, but kept your hands on his chest. Noticing his were void of his ring. “Oh…” you crossed to where he’d left it and presented it to him to slip on; paying particularly close attention to his fingers with a seductive bite of your lip. You had made this noticeable on purpose, and he gathered you to him again; this time you couldn’t help your low groan at the feel of how hard he was. “Get undressed… Stay here and wait for me, darling… Like the obedient woman you are…” You raised an eyebrow, smile playful, “You’re putting too much faith in me, Sheriff.” “If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for my town hall, and you wouldn’t want to make me late, would you?” His voice lowered to a sinful growl; “If you want my tongue to do anything other than speak today…” You bit your lip again before pushing up to give him a chaste kiss, “Who said anything about your tongue?” If there was any confusion as to your meaning, as your hands slid down his body to unbutton his pants and you sunk to your knees, it was quickly dissipated. He’d left you yesterday for a damned meeting, he could stay here today. The Sheriff chuckled as you slid his pants from his hips, and his hand gathered your hair; “…I suppose I could be late… This once.”

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