#but i ask how. when the most common “compliment” i received all through childhood and adolescence was how “easy and low maintenance” i am

[flickeringflame216]

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[cursestothemoon]

hellooooo<3 so, ive always loved the idea of Harry having an older protective sister(he really need one😭) could u pls do a headcanon of how she protects harry and their relationship? annnnddd how she also is dating Fred?? my heart needs it, pls and thank u❤️

i LOVE THIS 

(also i switch from third person pov to second person in the middle of this so im sorry :) but its fine ) 

ok 

i know a common headcanon/ fancanon for harry’s sister is that she looks like lily 

but hear me out 

Y/n Potter who looks exactly like James 

i mean to the T

and Lily would always make little teasing comments about how both her kids look like their dad and james is just :)

anyway

just picture it 

dark brown, wavy hair that was just tussled enough at all times

blue eyes

and the round rimmed glasses that James used to wear

stOP SHE WEARS HER DADS GLASSES BECAUSE WHEN SHE WAS LITTLE SHE’D PULL THEM OFF OF HIM AND AFTER HE DID SHE KEPT THEM AND WHEN SHE MISSES HIM SHE WEARS THEM AND THEY ARE SLIGHTLY TOO BIG AND SIT CROOKED ON HER FACE 

i made myself cry

anyway

lets talk protecting harry first then we will get into dating fred 

so she’s older meaning she’d be in Hogwarts for before him

let’s say she's two years older

George and Fred’s year

and she’d hear the whispers about her 

obviously

and i think she wouldn't tell harry

she would know the story of how their parents died and who harry was to the wizarding community but in an effort to protect Harry’s innocence and childhood for just a little while longer she wouldn’t tell him

at least not until he got to school then she’d be the one to tell him everything 

she is fiercely protective of Harry 

if someone so much as looked at him funny she was chewing their head off 

Harry might’ve been like James 

but Y/n Potter is James 

down to the way her eyes would narrow at someone in class when they made a rude comment 

or she’d try to charm her way out of trouble 

or charm Harry out of trouble

oH MY GOD SHE’D BE IN MCGONAGALL’S CLASS AND ONE OF HER FRIENDS WOULD SAY SOMETHING FUNNY AND SHE’D BE TRYING SO HARD TO HOLD IN HER LAUGH AND SHE’D MAKE THE SAME FACE JAMES WOULD MAKE WHEN TRYING NOT TO LAUGH

Mcgonagall almost cried 

she needed a moment 

ok Y/n would take the first week or so just to show Harry around Hogwarts 

she did not care if she was late

Harry was going to feel comfortable 

oH SHE NEARLY BEAT OLIVER WOOD WITH A BEATER’S BAT WHEN SHE FOUND OUT HE PUT HER TEENY LITTLE BROTHER ON THE QUIDDITCH TEAM AS A SEEKER

she is also part of the team, a chaser

will get spend most of the first few games with Harry making sure he’s ok

yeah malfoy doesn’t stand a chance

never did

10/10 would use the cloak to prank him

all the time

nothing is out of limits 

especially after he’s been nasty to Harry and his friends

growing up harry gets all embarrassed when she protects him because hes 15!1!1! he can handle it 

she is kinda hurt 

very dramatic 

“mY WITTLE BROTHER DOESN’T NEED ME”

“y/n... please”

“nO ITS OK HARRY I GET IT, ILL GO”

“where are you going?”

“YOU DON’T NEED ME ANYMORE, I AM NO LONGER NEEDED HERE”

“you don't HAVE TO LEAVE, WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS”

Ron was giggling on the couch in the common room he thought this whole scene was hilarious 

ron thinks she is so cool

ok i think she’d also have these little bits of lily that would shine through

unlike harry and james, who could just inhale near a book and get just above average grades

she took pride in studying and being able to sit down and absorb material 

Lily always passed with flying colors because she was a good student who wanted to prove herself 

it was the satisfaction of spending hours studying and being able to retain the information and apply it to earn an amazing grade that she loved

she passed this on to you

as well as her kindness to people who she believed deserved it

and quick wit

you two also had the same hands 

you had everything else from James but your hands looked like your mothers

down to the way your nails grew and fingers held a quill

snape hated it

because he really couldn’t hate you

he was weird around you though

hes just weird

where he'd bully and embarrass Harry 

he couldn’t do that to you because you wouldn’t give him the chance to

you knew the material

you knew the answer 

and he hated how when your hand shot up it looked just like Lily’s 

but you were making the stupid face James would when he’d concentrate 

you did not like snape

at first you were impartial 

then when you heard how rude he was to Harry...

it was also over for him

he didn’t stand a chance 

you had an affinity for pranks, fiercely protective, and you had gall 

your hand writing also looked like Lilys and snape had a rough time grading your essays

tough for him 

:)

also if any rumors went around about harry you were quick to make them actually about you

harry is the heir of slytherin?

actually no Y/n Potter is, there is no evidence but we just heard that it was her somewhere 

you didn’t care as long as no one was being rude to Harry

leTS TALK DEATHLY HALLOWS

so you don’t go with them on the hunt for Horcrux 

and you’d be going insane not knowing how they were or if they were ok

because all your life you had been able to protect to some extent 

but you were completely helpless now

you could do nothing

and then at the battle of hogwarts 

pLEASE

no one stood a chance

the feeling of seeing harry again

beaten, bruised, but still alive 

it was overwhelming

then seeing Hagrid crying in his seemingly dead body

also overwhelming

because you had failed 

you couldn't protect him 

and he heard you scream first 

it was loud and strangled and Harry felt so bad but he knew he had to do this 

I like to think Y/n Potter is the one who killed Voldemort in the end 

you cant argue with me on this sorry

ok

now

lets talk

dating freddie

so he’d probably notice you here and there starting in first year

but he was an eleven year old boy and girls were not on his radar right now

but he thought you were funny and pretty cool 

and your round glasses that were just a little too big for your adolescent face made you look cute 

then you tried out for the quidditch team with him and George 

you were amazing 

not only did you have James natural talent for the sport but that paired with Lily’s tactical thinking and quick mind

you were unstoppable 

you were brought on the team as a seeker 

and you were good at it too, but it wasn’t you’re favorite position

it entailed a lot of waiting and not really moving until you caught sight of the snitch

it was your excellent flying mixed with the fact that you literally had no sense of self preservation that made you a really good seeker

you'd just

nose dive 

if you hit the bottom you hit the bottom oh well 

but when Harry showed up you were happy to give him your position as seeker and take on the more exciting (at least to you) job of chaser

it was your quidditch playing that really got fred’s attention

because you were good 

and during team lunches or team hang outs you were always the life of the party

not because you were avidly trying to be 

but like james, people jus gravitated to your goofiness and happiness 

it was about the middle of fifth year fred realized he had a crush on you

and little man was panicked 

you had noticed fred before that

obviously 

but he was always just the funny guy on the team 

but as everyone knows the potter’s have a thing for gingers 

and it was when they came to pick you and Harry up from the Dursley's just before the quidditch world cup that you saw how attractive he really was 

please its james and lily all over again

kinda 

you become the funniest person in the room when he’s around

always smiley

lilypad?

no.

freddie bug

aH STOP PLEASE THAT’S SO CUTE

YOU’D JUST STARE AT HIM WITH A STUPID SMILE 

it would get to the point you'd be just blatantly flirting 

and fred bluSHES

BECAUSE HE ISN’T USED TO BEING THE ONE ON THE RECEIVING END OF SUCH CLEAR FLIRTING

usually he is the one to pick up girls

he has the charm

likes to make them blush

but yOU CAN JUST LOOK AT HIM WITH A STUPID SMILE AND HES BE ALL GIDDY 

he could barely get a compliment in between your flirting

“Morning Freddie bug, looking cute as always.”

George thinks it both hilarious and disgusting

ron just thinks its disgusting 

but fred is ultimately the one to make the first move to be more than just friends who flirt when the yule ball comes around

he asks you

“Potter! Potter!”

“yes?”

“You, me, Yule ball....”

and as he’s pantomiming it (ya know like in the movie) he also pantomimes a very heavy make out session then what you could assume would be kisses all over your face

it was now your turn to blush as you agreed to go with him

you guys started dating after that :)

pLEASE ONCE HARRY GOT WITH GINNY AND HE SAW A PICTURE OF YOUR PARENTS 

YOUR MOM BEING A RED HEAD AND YOU AND HARRY LOOKING JUST LIKE YOUR DAD

HE WOULD NOT STOP THE JOKES

“i see why you’re with me. it’s my hair isnt it?”

“what? no its no-”

“you probably wouldn’t even look my way if i didn’t have red hair. you potters are unbelievable.”

“you are such a dummy”

“oH AM I? BUT YOU KEEP ME AROUND BECAUSE OF THE HAIR. I SHOULD’VE KNOWN IT WASN’T MY SPARKLING PERSONALITY THAT YOU LOVE.”

taglist:

@amourtentiaa

@siriusement

[bbangsoonie]

backdoor

member: jaehyun (hyunjae) genre: fluff (requested) word count: 3,120 synopsis: jaehyun has always been your rival. so when he bets that he could make you fall for him, you can’t back down and say no. but when you’re too confident, you let your guard done.

backdoor: a term used in league of legends; when you secretly attack the enemy’s nexus while they’re focused elsewhere. this is done by sneaking into the enemy base and taking them by surprise

Lee Jaehyun was the cockiest and most annoying person you had ever met. You would think that growing up as childhood “friends” would make you two close. After all, your parents were best friends with his parents.

But no, you and Jaehyun had been rivals ever since you were both enrolled into a tennis club as young children. You always had the upper hand until he suddenly hit puberty and became a lot more physically fit than you. Once he started beating you in nearly every match, he became your #1 enemy.

He had always been super competitive and made everything into a contest. Who could run to the car faster? Who could receive a higher score on the exam? Who could make the other lose their temper first?

With high school came his sudden increase in popularity. It inflamed his ego to the max, which irked you to no end.

Every Valentine’s Day, he would brag about all the gifts and confessions he received. And every White Day, he would compare the numbers to yours.

He was loved by the girls for being a casanova and admired by the guys for his athleticism and gaming skills.

You, on the other hand, could not comprehend why the entire school was infatuated with him. You had your eyes on someone else. Kim Sunwoo. He had caught your attention since the first day of freshman year. Now, as a senior, you were about to graduate without ever making a move.

You were too shy to approach him. You couldn’t even find a common interest to naturally bring up and talk about. All he ever did was make music and play League of Legends.

So you found Jacob during lunch and practically begged him to teach you how to play the game.

“Please please please?” you whined.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I can’t,” Jacob said apologetically. “I have basketball practice every day. Besides, I haven’t played in almost half a year. I’m rusty.”

“I just need you to teach me the basics!”

“I’m sorry, Y/n.”

Sighing, you gave up and slumped in your seat. You poked at the food in front of you with a pout.

“Did I just hear the Y/n ask Jacob to teach her how to play League?” Jaehyun suddenly popped out of nowhere.

“Fuck off,” you rolled your eyes at him as you set your chopsticks down.

“You know, I’m the highest ranked player in our school,” he said smugly. You wanted nothing but to wipe that look off his face.

You ignored him and took a sip of your water. Jacob awkwardly glanced between you and Jaehyun as he tightly held onto his spoon. He could sense another argument coming.

“I can teach you if you want,” Jaehyun offered.

“I don’t want,” you coldly rejected.

“Of course you don’t,” he scoffed. “You’re too afraid to spend time with me because you might realize that you actually like me.”

“Oh please. There are a few things in this world that will never change. The sun rising from the east, the sun setting in the west, and my hatred for you,” you said.

“Well if you hate me that much, then let’s make a bet out of it. The first one to fall for the other’s seducing loses,” he smirked.

Still stuck in the middle, Jacob shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“You don’t have to accept the challenge if you’re not confident,” Jaehyun shrugged, making you narrow your eyes at him.

A list of pros and cons was being made in your head as you contemplated the crazy suggestion. The logical part of your mind wanted nothing to do with him. You knew that stooping down to his level was childish. You had much better things to do than go along with his bet.

The competitive part of you, however, couldn’t bear to back down. You would have to deal with him flaunting over you and calling you a coward if you didn’t agree to this.

So you disregarded all rationale and crossed your arms with a curt “deal”.

The walk to school the next day was full of complaints as you whined about falling for Jaehyun’s trick and Kevin chided you for it.

“I don’t know why you thought it would be a good idea,” Kevin tsk-ed. “He makes your blood boil within seconds. How are you going to hold back from tearing him apart? Never mind flirt with him.”

“I’m already regretting it,” you groaned.

“Speaking of the devil,” Jacob coughed, nudging you.

You looked up to see Jaehyun waiting by the school gates. He was holding a bouquet of flowers and every girl who passed by whispered to their friend about it. To everyone’s shock, he walked up to you and handed you the flowers.

“So it starts now?” you stared at the roses. “You call this seducing?”

“I call this romantic,” he grinned.

Rolling your eyes, you handed Kevin the bouquet and walked away. He awkwardly chased after you as Jacob offered Jaehyun a pat on the shoulder.

“She doesn’t like roses. She thinks they’re cliché,” he said before leaving.

When the dismissal bell rang, Jaehyun was waiting for you outside of your classroom. Hushed whispers erupted again as your classmates tried to figure out why he was being so affectionate to you. It was no secret that you two never got along.

After gathering your belongings, you grabbed your backpack and left without sparing him another glance. Unfazed, he easily caught up to you and slung his arm around your shoulder.

“What? Are you wavering already?” he teased.

“Not a chance,” you scoffed.

“As a part of the bet, I can teach you how to play League. That’s what you wanted anyway. Think of it as killing two birds with one stone.”

You ignored all the incredulous looks you received with Jaehyun by your side as you left the school grounds. You didn’t realize that you weren’t headed home until you stopped in front of a PC Room. Puzzled, you stared at the building in front of you.

“I promised that I’d teach you. Our first lesson starts today,” he said as he dragged you inside.

Your brain was bombarded with a whole new world. You struggled to keep up as he rambled on about bots and gold. He was showing you a demonstration by playing a round but your inability to multitask made it difficult to understand what was going on on the screen.

“My main is Jace and I usually go jungle,” he explained and you pretended to understand by nodding. At your silence, he eyed your expression and chuckled.

“So is Sunwoo the reason why you’re suddenly interested in League?” he asked, catching you off guard.

“How did you know?” you gaped.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice your little crush on him?” he raised a brow.

You were taken aback to say the least. You didn’t think he paid much attention to you other than when he was bored and wanted to mess around.

“Anyway, he usually goes mid as Zed,” he shrugged. “To be honest, the best way for you to bond with him through the game is for him to play ADC and for you to be support.”

“As if I know what all that means,” you frowned.

At that moment, his character died and the screen went gray. You snickered, earning a light flick on your forehead.

“ADC stands for attack damage carry. It’s the champion who usually does the most attacking. They go in the bottom lane with whoever’s playing support. Supports are supposed to aid and heal the ADC. So you would follow and communicate with them.”

“Sounds complicated,” your nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Sounds fun,” he corrected before turning back to the computer.

The next day, Jaehyun surprised you with a small potted plant in front of the gates.

“Since you don’t like roses, I got you a succulent instead,” he said proudly.

Next to you, Kevin giggled and Jacob let out a soft “aww”. Slightly touched yet also slightly embarrassed, you took it from him in a hurry and stormed off.

“You’re slowly getting there,” Jacob laughed as Kevin shot him a thumbs up.

Smiling, Jaehyun watched as they ran to catch up with you. He heard you yell at them after what was probably a teasing remark. You then began to chase Kevin, who ran away shrieking.

After two weeks of spending hours at the PC Room after school, you were starting to get a hang of the game. You found Teemo, who you insisted was a dog (he’s actually a rodent), and gushed over how cute he is.

Jaehyun made fun of your champion choice and shook his head as he explained that Teemo was the most hated character.

“Why? He’s adorable!” you defended. “And I love the little eggs he plants.”

“For the nth time, those are mushrooms! Not eggs,” he exclaimed. “And that’s exactly why everyone hates him. He’s so annoying.”

“You’re annoying,” you shot back.

“Well, Teemo’s not an option right now,” he pointed out.

He was teaching you how to play Howling Abyss that day. And playing ARAM meant your champion would be randomly given.

“Oh! The cute cat is available,” you excitedly clicked.

“That’s Yuumi and that’s actually not a bad choice,” he nodded in approval. “You just have to attach onto me and heal me.”

You hated to admit that you had grown closer with Jaehyun. Only a couple of weeks had passed by since the bet and you didn’t completely despise him anymore.

He gifted you something small each morning, whether it was a plant or piece of bread. He was always waiting for you at the gates. Dating rumors were already circulating the school but you hadn’t forgotten about the bet. You were determined to win it.

Which was why you began to wake up earlier to put on makeup and even complimented him during games. It was easy to make him smile. All you needed to do was throw a lame joke in here and there and he would burst out in laughter.

It was almost suspiciously easy. He was too willing to respond to your advances and never put up a wall.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t get on your nerves. His antics still bothered you to no end.

On the way home, he insisted on feeding you ice cream instead of having you hold it yourself. Except he kept pulling the spoon back when you opened your mouth to eat it.

The first time, you gave him a dirty look. The second time, you punched his arm. The third time, you gave him the finger and walked off after a “fuck you”.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” he laughed.

Once again, you were reminded of how immature he was.

“So has there been any progress?” Kevin asked.

It was gym period and all the students were running around in the field. Jacob was playing volleyball with Jaehyun while you and Kevin were sitting on the sidelines.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged.

“It would be the best enemies-to-lovers trope if you two actually end up dating like this,” he commented.

“Never,” you snorted in disbelief.

You had seen Jaehyun ever since he was a snotty little kid. Even back then, he was a mischievous brat. There was no way you could ever see him as anything but that.

The teacher blew his whistle, signaling the end of gym class. You got up, dusted your pants, and skipped down the steps. Unfortunately, you landed wrong and felt a sharp pain in your ankle as you fell down.

After Kevin shouted your name, Jaehyun turned his head to see you on the ground. Without thinking twice, he ran towards you and asked if you were okay. When you couldn’t reply, he put you on his back with Kevin’s help and sprinted to the nurse’s office.

Your heart was beating fast but you couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why. Was it because of the pain? Or all the attention you were receiving from your classmates?

By the time you reached the office, your ankle was throbbing and swelling up. The nurse was nowhere to be seen so Jaehyun retrieved an ice pack himself and wrapped a towel around it before applying it.

You were sitting on a cot while he was bent down to tend to your wound. His forehead was wrinkled with worry and you stared at him. This was the first time he had ever treated you with such gentleness.

“I don’t think you broke anything but it’s definitely gonna hurt for at least a week,” he winced in vicarious pain.

You suddenly didn’t know how to act around him. You weren’t used to receiving sympathy from him.

“Uh that’s okay,” you coughed to cover up the awkwardness. You’d rather have him make fun of you for being clumsy. But instead, he seemed genuinely concerned for you.

“You should’ve been more careful,” he scolded.

There was something about the way he looked at you. His eyes were no longer playful but you couldn’t figure out what emotions hid behind those eyes.

Those eyes. His eyes clouded your mind. For some reason, you couldn’t get it out of your head.

You found yourself avoiding him as you struggled to organize your thoughts. Or rather, your feelings.

Wanting to distract yourself, you decided to finally talk to Sunwoo. Surely, spending time with him would help you forget about Jaehyun.

So you mustered up the courage to ask him out on a date. To your surprise, he happily agreed and suggested that you watch a movie together. There was a new romcom film that came out and that he had been wanting to watch.

The date wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. Sunwoo’s goofiness offset any nervousness and it was fun to be around him. But yet, it also wasn’t as heart fluttering as you thought it would be.

Perhaps you had idealized him too much in your imagination. Your romantic feelings for him dissipated and you saw him as a good friend. Luckily, he felt the same.

However, word about your date had already spread by the time you got to school on Monday. It had reached Jaehyun’s ears and his expression hardened when he saw you laughing with Sunwoo at lunch.

He knew what the ugly feeling in his stomach was. And he wasn’t happy about it. So he reacted in the only way he knew. By clinging to your side and pestering you.

He spent the whole day messing up your hair and being sarcastic. Eventually, you finally snapped and told him to piss off.

“I’ll consider it if you can beat me in tennis today,” he said.

You crossed your arms, wondering what was going on in his head. You hadn’t been able to defeat him since middle school.

“If you can get a single ball past me, I’ll leave you alone,” he proposed. With a huff, you reluctantly agreed. It would be faster to just get it over with.

That was how you two ended up at a tennis court after school. He never went easy on you but he was going especially hard that day. He gave you no breaks and flung the ball back at you with what felt like all his strength. Ball after ball flew past you as he grabbed another one to start again.

“What the hell, Lee Jaehyun?” you yelled across the court. “Why the fuck are you so aggressive today?”

“Are you giving up?” he taunted while bouncing the ball.

“Oh hell no,” you grumbled as you got in position.

Another half an hour passed by with him beating you again and again. You were drenched in sweat and starting to feel sore. But you refused to give him the pleasure of watching you admit defeat.

So you kept going until the ball accidentally hit your shoulder. The amount of force he put into that backhand made you yelp in pain as you dropped the racket.

Startled, Jaehyun ran over to make sure you were okay.

“You just can’t bear to see me win once, can you?” you glared as you shoved his hand away. “You turn everything into a competition and act like you’re superior over me.”

“I-I didn’t mean to do that,” his brows furrowed in guilt.

“Didn’t mean to do what? Make my childhood a living hell by ruining my favorite sport? Use my crush on Sunwoo to trick me into another stupid bet? Confuse me into thinking that you might actually not hate me?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Then why are you so clingy?”

“Because I like you!”

His words brought upon silence. The tension in the air was thick as you both stared at each other.

“You’re so dense,” he sighed. “I wanted your attention, okay? But back then, I was a kid and didn’t know how to stay by your side without annoying the hell out of you. And then I didn’t know how to transition out of that.”

He fidgeted with a loose string on his shirt and took a deep breath before continuing.

“This stupid bet was supposed to change our relationship. I was supposed to show you that I’m not as bad as you think I am. That I’m a guy too. That I’ve been in love with you for a whole decade now.”

To say you were surprised would be a massive understatement. All your life, you had been sure that Jaehyun’s purpose in life was to irritate you. So when your heart began to skip around him, you cursed yourself for giving into the hormones that made you see him in a different light. You never thought that the feelings would be reciprocated.

“You don’t feel the same way? At all?” he carefully asked.

Your mouth opened but no words came out. You couldn’t find the right words to answer his question.

“You’re not saying no,” the corners of his lips curved up.

He took a step closer to you and held your cheeks. You felt your heart race at the proximity and froze.

“For confirmation?” his lips ghosted over yours. You barely managed to nod slightly before he closed the gap between you two.

As cheesy as it sounded, you felt sparks fly the moment you had your first kiss. By the time he pulled away, you felt your cheeks heat up.

“So I guess that means I won the bet before it even began,” you joked, making him laugh.

“Yes, yes you did,” he smiled as he hugged you.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Misread Details, Part One

CW: Death talk, BBU, dehumanizing language about Box Boys

A Box Boy Serial Killer On the Loose? Part 1 of 3

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee 1 month ago

Hello, r/LetsTalkTrueCrime! 

I’ve posted this write-up in a couple other reddits, but someone pointed me to this one as being a good place for discussion, and this is a really weird set of three unsolved murders (well, one death and two murders? Maybe?) and I wanted to see if any of you have some thoughts or maybe more info on these cases.

Three men died within two years in three different cities. 

While each death is unique, all of them have one thing in common - fingerprints and DNA from a single human pet was found in every single location. 

Let’s start with the first death.

Nathaniel Matthew Benson, who went by “Nanda” (a childhood nickname given to him by a younger brother who couldn’t pronounce his full name as a toddler, apparently), was forty-one years old at the time of his death. 

He was born and raised in North Dakota by very strict religious parents, and had three younger brothers and one younger sister. There is some disagreement here about whether his home life was peaceful or not. His younger sister claims that the environment at home was strict but fair, and the family was mostly happy. Two of his three younger brothers tell a different story, about a father who put too much on their shoulders, especially “Nanda” as the eldest, and the pressure they felt to be perfect.

His other brother, the youngest of the family, has never given a public interview beyond a short statement that he and Nanda were not close, and he did not feel able to speak about his character. There were nearly fifteen years between the oldest and youngest childrens’ births, and Nathaniel had moved out of the house by the time the youngest was four years old, so this makes sense.

By all accounts, Nathaniel was an excellent student, getting all A’s throughout his years of education. He was considered quiet and shy, and most of his high school classmates don’t have many standout memories of him. He graduated valedictorian of his high school class, then surprised everyone by stating he wouldn’t be attending college, and instead would be taking a “gap year” to travel the United States using money from his graduation party and also some he’d saved up from working part-time retail and restaurant jobs.

Between ages 18 and 19, he took his small secondhand four-door vehicle around the nation, calling home every week or so to give his family updates, sending postcards, etc. After about six months, though, the phone calls and postcards became fewer and fewer, and eventually he told everyone he had gotten a new job and decided to forgo college entirely.

His family was shocked - and by all accounts his father was furious - but Nathaniel refused to budge. 

There was apparently a very hostile phone conversation about one year after this decision which was the last time Nathaniel Benson spoke to his father directly until his death.

After this, his family received only sporadic communications sent from a P.O. Box located in central California, in a mid-sized city known as Dosaba. He never did give anyone an actual home address.

He occasionally called them, mostly his sister and one of his brothers, but surviving family states that the phone number he called from was different every single time, and usually didn’t have a California area code.

“He used burner phones for everything,” Nathaniel’s sister Samantha told WNDR, a local news station, shortly after his mysterious death. “And he would never tell us what job he did. We asked and asked and Nanda would just say ‘oh, this and that’, or ‘I do contractor work’. Just answers that don’t tell you anything. It was all very mysterious, very secretive. You know, we talked about how maybe he’d gotten into drugs or something, but my brother wasn’t a drug user, ever. It just seems so out of character for the brother I knew.”

“He was always reading his Bible when we knew him,” Younger brother Timothy stated. “But you know, I asked him once if he had found a home church wherever he was living, and he laughed and laughed. Then he just said, ‘they’d have a lot of opinions on how I live my life if I did that’, and changed the subject. So I knew whatever he was doing, it probably wasn’t good.”

There has been a lot of speculation by investigators that “Nanda” had indeed picked up employment within some kind of drug smuggling group at this time. Evidence found after his death has even opened the possibility that he worked as a high-end hitman.

There’s a lot of international travel during this time period, far more than can be accounted for unless travel was part of his workplace responsibilities. Employment records show him working as a sales manager for a company called Sunrise Investments, but this is believed by many to be a shell corporation hiding something much, much darker. 

However, all of this remains speculative, and there’s never been any proof that Nathaniel Benson did anything but the financial sales the company claims. No one ever did much work with him, and other employees at the company stated contact with him occurred entirely by phone and fax (and then e-mail) at this time. 

When investigators pored over the documents after getting a warrant, they weren’t able to find anything suspicious - and that in and of itself seems suspicious to some.

For years, Benson seemed to simply drop off the map entirely when it comes to local information - investigators did find that he owned a vintage Corvette that he fixed up himself (found via vehicle registry and taxes listings, which is public knowledge), and that about two years before his death he bought a large five-bedroom house with a basement in Dosaba, which he renovated in total secrecy. I was able to find records of him paying home taxes through his mortgage company, and that he spoke to local contractors and building companies, paying for consultations about the renovations he undertook. 

None of the companies he spoke to kept any kind of detailed notes about these consultations, but you’ll see why it’s relevant when I discuss what was found after his death.

Nathaniel Benson’s life came to an abrupt end on August 16th, 20XX, but nobody would find his body for more than two days. 

On August 18th, his cleaning lady arrived for her usual weekly visit to discover him crumpled at the foot of the stairs, face-up. She called 911 immediately and first responders arrived within twenty minutes to her white-faced and nearly silent. 

First responders noted that Nathaniel’s eyes were closed, unusual for a violent death. A wet cloth had been laid over them to help them stay that way. The medical examiner stated later that this would have to have been done within the first hour after he died, before rigor mortis could stiffen muscles and lead to them opening again. 

That whoever witnessed his death knew to do this is deeply unusual, and may be a sign of affection or grief. 

The autopsy found that Nathaniel had met his end approximately 36 hours before he was found, and had died due to an undiagnosed heart defect that had resulted in cardiac arrest. 

Sounds like any sudden death that can simply be written off as sad but natural, right? Well, there’s a few details that make things a little murkier than that, and have led to his death being listed as “undetermined” officially, and possibly including foul play.

For one thing, Nathaniel hadn’t simply collapsed next to the stairs - he had fallen, or been pushed, and showed evidence of bone fractures and head trauma consistent with the fall. A bit of blood was found on one step that came from his injuries. This head trauma would likely not have been fatal if he had received medical attention, but cardiac arrest ensured death even if head trauma didn’t. 

Did Nathaniel Benson suffer a heart attack and fall down the stairs, dying only when he reached the bottom? Maybe. 

Or maybe he really was pushed, the shock of it is the reason he went into cardiac arrest. 

There’s one more unusual fact that makes foul play a possibility in this mysterious death. 

Nathaniel Benson owned a legally purchased Box Boy, no known legal name, who went by his original purchase number: 334235. The Box Boy was a Romantic designation, and was purchased from Facility 001 in Berras, a city in Southern California, where the WRU headquarters is located.

WRU, when contacted by investigators, easily agreed to meet and provide detectives with information regarding the Box Boy’s purchase, as well as the DNA and fingerprint samples the company keeps on file. 

According to WRU’s internal records, this Boxie was not only a designated Romantic, but a specialty Romantic, trained for ‘masochism’. This tracks with multiple books on, shall we say, somewhat salacious interests that Benson had for his love life.

As Benson never seemed to date anyone or maintain a relationship, it’s theorized that the Boxie was his way of dealing with the stress of his work. WRU noted that Benson had contacted them after the purchase was complete to give his compliments on the Boxie’s training and note that he was ‘perfect’ and they ‘got along just fine’. 

The Box Boy’s fingerprints were found all over the house, which is totally normal. He was living there full-time, after all. But investigators also located something a bit more unusual: a secret room within the home that the cleaning lady had never seen before, hidden behind a carefully camouflaged door.

This is what Benson had been working on when he ‘renovated’ his newly purchased home: He built a secret dungeon room with stone walls and a concrete floor, outfitted with a dip and a “drain”, plus a garden hose hooked up on one wall. 

The room also had rows upon rows of cabinets full of various tools consistent with a ‘hard BDSM lifestyle’, according to one detective. I wasn’t able to get ahold of the actual list of items found, but was able to determine that whips, knives, ‘unspecified implements purchased from adult stores’, and other things were found.

Tests done on the walls and floor showed that blood had been spilled nearly everywhere in the room at one time or another, and large amounts of it. There was also evidence of blood found in Nathaniel Benson’s bedroom, primarily on the floor and in the bed. A small faded stain was found on the headboard just below a set of cuffs hooked into it.

A few small dried bloodstains were also found around the master bathroom sink, and investigators were able to determine the blood matched the DNA of the Box Boy, and was left there much more recently than the rest of the blood in the house, possibly even on the day of Benson’s death. 

Here’s the thing, though: the Box Boy himself was nowhere to be found. 

Was this Box Boy tired of being used as a human pincushion? Did he take matters into his own hands and commit the ultimate crime a pet can do, killing his owner? If he did, he no doubt knew what happens to pets who kill their owners, usually either being ‘put down’ or wiped clean to be resold.

Is our Boxie a killer right from the start? Or was he only a witness to a natural death who panicked and ran away?

Without locating the Boxie himself, it’s impossible to know.

The cleaning lady remembered him, and gave a description: Somewhere between 5’8” and 5’11”, wiry but with some muscle, usually dressed in just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt when she was in the house. He has short dark hair, brown eyes, and an angular face. She mentioned visible scars on his arms, but none on his face. She was told to call him only “pet” if she needed to speak to him. She stated his voice was slightly hoarse and rough, as if he had a sore throat all the time. 

They had only one significant interaction, where the cleaning lady inquired about a large bruise on the Boxie’s face and bandages on his arms. He apparently told her, at the time, that he ‘liked the reminer’, but thanked her for asking after his health. They never spoke directly again. 

The detail about his face being unscarred will become incredibly relevant in parts 2 and 3.

Neighbors, when asked, mentioned that they had seen someone matching that description walking away from the house somewhere around 4 and 5 pm on August 16th. The medical examiner believes Benson died around noon, so this leaves about four or five hours between the death and the Boxie leaving.

He appeared to be walking very quickly and one neighbor noticed he was holding what looked like crumpled cash in one hand and a plastic shopping bag in another.

He was spotted waiting at a nearby bus stop, and footage from a camera mounted inside the bus shows someone matching the Box Boy’s description riding the bus all the way into Dosaba’s historic, artsy downtown. There, he was again captured on CCTV purchasing a one-way train ticket with cash. The train station employee who sold him the ticket remembers offering him a round-trip ticket for a discount, which she always did anyone who asked for a ticket to another city, only to have him “nervously” say he wouldn’t need to come back. She mentioned that he scratched at the side of his neck, and that when he walked away, he looked like his shoes were a little too big for his feet.

It is believed, as Nathaniel Benson was found barefoot but wearing clothing that suggested he had been outside doing yard work just before his death, that the Box Boy stole his shoes.

The fleeing Box Boy is captured one more time on camera as he arrived at his destination, Red Hills, approximately a two-hour train ride to the south. He walks past the CCTV quickly, hunched over as if trying to hide his face.

After that, he disappears.

Red Hills is a significantly larger city than Dosaba, with nearly a million residents within city limits and another 600,000 filling its suburbs and outer neighborhoods. Red Hills is a city that has seen better days, and it would be easy for a runaway Box Boy to simply fade away into its seedier districts. While Red Hills has had more than a dozen runaway Boxies picked up over the years, mostly Romantics who engaged in prostitution to make ends meet, it’s not believed that Benson’s Box Boy knew this when he chose the location.

As Romantic Boxies usually can’t read, it’s believed he simply chose a location he’d overheard someone else say, knowing nothing about what he would find when he got there.

Two days after his death, Nathaniel Benson’s debit and credit cards, Driver’s License, and a folded-up note he had written to himself about buying toothpaste were found in a plastic shopping bag tied-off at the top, were found inside the bus the Boxie had ridden, stuffed between the edge of a seat and the wall. The Boxie’s fingerprints were on everything.

But the Boxie himself wouldn’t be seen again until more than a year later.

Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson’s death for a time remained a one-off unsolved mystery. A little on the unusual side, but entirely possible that no foul play occurred, just some details that need filling in.

The shocking murder of a Red Hills man known locally as “Brute” would bring this Box Boy back into law enforcement’s line of sight, and open up questions about whether the Box Boy had simply been running away from Nathaniel Benson’s death… or leaving to find a new victim.

I’ll post Part 2, about “Brute”, shortly! Then Part 3 will be about a third murder, in which our potential Box Boy serial killer takes out… another serial killer. 

I told you this one gets interesting.

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @outofangband @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @endless-whump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary

[couslie]

Alistair is not a ‘himbo’: discussion of the continuous mischaracterization of Alistair with disregard to his trauma.

Throughout the fandom, Alistair is seen as a ‘cheese-loving himbo,’ and his personality is narrowed down to these two factors. People often see him as stupid, to put it simply, and others see him as ‘annoying’ and ‘whiny’. However, Alistair is quite possibly one of the most in-depth and fleshed out character that BioWare has developed. He is not actually stupid, and he should not be labeled as ‘whiny’ or ‘annoying’ either. Under the cut is an in-depth perspective of Alistair, his trauma, and his personality. 

Disclaimer: this is not going to be a ‘callout’ post to the fandom in any way. It is simply a character analysis on Alistair and his coping mechanisms for his trauma and how it is often misperceived. Warning for length.

Firstly, what is a ‘himbo?’

A ‘himbo’ is described as “an attractive but stupid young man,” most commonly used in reference to Alistair in the Dragon Age fandom. While the jokes are funny, sometimes it is taken a little too far. I have seen many people truly believe that Alistair is dumb and incompetent, and honestly, at first I also believed so. Throughout Dragon Age Origins, numerous characters comment on Alistair’s intellect including himself. This is often misinterpreted that Alistair is indeed unintelligent since he says so himself, right? Not quite.

Trauma:

Anyone who has played Dragon Age Origins knows that Alistair is the secret bastard son of King Maric to a ‘serving-girl in Redcliffe’. Instead of being raised by King Maric, Alistair was hidden away with his half-brother’s uncle, Arl Eamon, in Redcliffe. Eventually, rumors floated around that Alistair was Arl Eamon’s son, a rumor that Arl Eamon’s wife believed. Consequently, Alistair was sent to a Chantry monastery to begin training as a Templar around the age of ten; ten years later being ‘saved’ by Warden Commander Duncan and conscripted into the Grey Wardens. This is the biggest subplot in DAO, and other than the Blight looming over Fereldan/Thedas, is a main point in DAO’s storyline. 

This alone sounds absolutely awful for a child to have to go through. But it gets much, much worse for Alistair. Traveling though Fereldan with Alistair and talking with him gets him to open up a little about what his childhood was like. Most of it is shrouded in humor; however, he lets some truth shine through.

From this we can confer that Alistair did not have an ideal childhood living with the Arl in Redcliffe. Especially since when the Arl would visit Denerim, Alistair would sleep with the hounds. Not only is it hinted that Alistair suffered child neglect, it is also hinted that he may have suffered verbal abuse. As Arl Eamon was one of the only people to know that Alistair was Maric’s bastard, the verbal abuse and belittlement most likely came from him. 

 Throughout Alistair’s life he felt uncared for, and was so ignored and neglected as a child that even grown up he feels invisible and unheard. 

So uncared for, that even the simple act of giving him a gift he acts as if he never had anyone ever give him anything (which is possible except for maybe a few times). 

Or, even just remembering that he mentioned something.

Or, even a simple compliment makes him feel unworthy.

No one would listen to him or what he wanted, and that is another main sub plot of DAO. Going to visit Goldanna, the player can choose whether or not to harden Alistair and basically tell him, “People only look out for themselves. It’s time you did, too.”

Alistair felt he was unloved, unwanted, and a general burden to his family (and especially felt this way after meeting Goldanna). The only person he felt may have loved him was his mother who he believed to be a serving-girl; a main reason he holds on to his mother’s amulet. She represents the only person in his life, up until Duncan, who he thought would have loved and be proud of him. 

Coping Mechanisms:

Now that Alistair’s trauma is laid-out, we can move on to how he copes with said trauma. Alistair uses humor as a defense mechanism to cope with his childhood traumas, and it is very common, especially self-deprecating and dark humor. According to G. Swaminath, “Freud postulated that humor [sic] works by means of two principal mechanisms, ‘condensation’ and ‘displacement’. Condensation entails an economy in thought and expression and conserves psychic energy, and displacement transfers this psychic energy arising from conflict or incongruity to a humorous anecdote, which brings relief. Freud believed that cultivating a sense of humor [sic] could help lift repressions (i.e. unconscious conflictual material) but could also be harmful, particularly in certain forms of sarcasm and irony, directed at the self.”

(source)

Most, if not all of Alistair’s humor, is directed at himself in a very self-deprecating manner. Whether to make the player feel better, to make himself seem unimportant, or because his self-esteem is truly that low.

For Alistair, appearing as an idiot was the easiest way to be under the radar. He never wanted to be King. He didn’t want people to treat him differently, either, for knowing that King Maric was his father. The best way to seem insignificant was to belittle himself and appear that he was an ‘idiotic nobody’.

On top of all this, the player can even callout Alistair for using humor as a defense mechanism and deflecting questions that he doesn’t really want to answer.

It’s not that Alistair is truly unintelligent or ‘whiny/annoying,’ he is using humor to cope and defend in the best way he knows how.

So, is Alistair actually intelligent?

Firstly, intelligence is hard to measure. One person’s definition of intelligence could vary wildly from another person’s. There’s also the perspective that intelligence can be categorized. For example, a person may be book-smart but not street-smart and vice-versa. Who is to say, however, that both are not equally as intelligent, but just in different categories? There is no basis for ‘intelligence.’ Everyone can be intelligent in their own way, and for Alistair, he is intelligent on history (specifically chantry), battle tactics, and knowing deception/people’s motives. 

(Alistair not being told what the dark ritual is for)

As @mahariel-theirin​ said: “Right from the start you can just tell Alistair is smart, and not just because of his wit. When the Warden asks him about the origin of darkspawn he says, “You want the Chantry version, or the truth?” When asked about the fight with the mage, he calls out the revered mother’s power play by using him as a messenger. Look at that insight. That awareness. And that’s just from the first 5 minutes of meeting him.”

End Notes:

Take out of this what you will. But Alistair is more of a ‘hunk’ than a ‘himbo,’ and shouldn’t be discredited. He was abused and neglected his whole life. I personally believe Alistair should be given more credit than he has been receiving, and BioWare for creating a character that is so in-depth and fleshed out they have deceived people in believing that Alistair is truly dumb. Which, ironically, is what Alistair wanted in-game. I am not in any way saying to quit joking about Alistair being a ‘himbo’ either! A lot of the jokes are quite funny. This was purely made out of the informational interest of some people not quite understanding Alistair’s character and truly believing he might be one of the most stupid people in Thedas (and potentially misunderstanding his humor/defense/coping mechanism as stupidity). If anything, Alistair is ‘himbo-passing’ at best.

Also, with special thanks to @planesofduality for their Dragon Age Compendium. It was tremendously useful, and I thank you for all the time and devotion you put in to it to make it possible. Many thanks! Also thanks to @sundogsandrainbows, @not-plaidweave​, and @irhinoceri​ for discussing this with me and encouraging me to make this meta.

[knickynoo]

I loved your recent post about Marty and his ADHD! It was soo spot on. And, I saw in the tags that you mentioned Alex Keaton and how you believe he’s not neurotypical either. Care to elaborate? Do you have any headcanons about neurodivergent™ Alex? I’d love to hear your thoughts! :)

Oh, hey, thank you! Marty having ADHD seems to be one of the most common headcanons in the fandom, so that post was a lot of fun to work on.

As far as Alex goes...yes, I will elaborate, BUT I'm putting it under a cut because ya girl is really going to E L A B O R A T E.

I've mentioned before that I think Alex's overall personality/demeanor comes from a variety of different places. Some parts of who he is are likely caused by all the pressure put on him to be a high achiever, due to being so academically gifted from a young age. Other parts are due to being overly coddled and spoiled by Elyse and Steven. Still, there's probably a part of Alex that genuinely enjoys being difficult and getting a rise out of people. Then, there's the obvious anxiety he struggles with, which even MJF has talked about in some interviews when discussing how he approached playing a guy like Alex.

"Giftedness" & anxiety are already included under the umbrella of neurodiversity but in Alex's case, I actually think there's even more to it than that. Yeah, Alex is a funny character whose actions/words are so often played for laughs. He can also be a really irksome character when he's dishing out the sarcasm and being selfish. But I also can't help but look at Alex and think, This guy is just so not NT and he is struggling, somebody Help Him. And since Alex P. Keaton is one of my favorite characters AND I love to analyze/ do deep dives AND the topic of neurodiversity is a particularly strong interest of mine... well, here you go....

Mans is autistic.

• Difficulty with social cues and "reading the room". Seriously, there are so many instances of everyone around him all being on the same page about something or dealing with something serious, and Alex walks in and just proceeds to miss every single cue people throw his way. Two scenes that pop into my head, in particular, are the Reflective Pajamas one and the Clam Puff one, lol.

• He frequently struggles with putting himself in other people's shoes: Alex is certainly shown to be a compassionate person. He can recognize when people are hurting and will do the right thing, but sometimes he needs some help to get there. It seems that a lot of the time, all he knows is how he feels or thinks about something, and it doesn't occur to him that another person could be experiencing it differently. Then, once Steven, Elyse, Ellen, etc, break the situation down for him and explicitly say things like, Hey, that person's feelings are hurt because... or Here is the exact reason this person is angry... Alex is finally able to connect the dots, which usually leads to him being like, I hadn't ever thought about that/ I didn't mean it. (Of course, there are also times where Alex is just purposely being a jerk, but I'm not focusing on those)

• Specific, intense interests: Politics & economics, obviously. It's made well-known that Alex has been completely fixated on these two areas since he was a toddler. He's prone to enthusiastic, overly detailed discourse on the topics and either doesn't care or can't pick up on when people are growing bored at listening to him.

• Also, can we talk about how it's established that Alex's favorite toy as a little kid was a box? Like, he carried it everywhere, played with it, slept with it, and was devastated when it fell apart. Idk, I know kids can be attached to random objects, but it's just interesting that Alex is noted as having been enamored with a box. I'm just picturing little Alex, ignoring all the toys he has in favor of just sitting and staring at a box, and his parents are like, Yeah, this is normal.

• Highly intelligent, bordering on genius/prodigy (He was doing long-division at like, 3 years old) but has difficulty connecting with peers & making friends: This is most prominently shown in "A, My Name is Alex," where we see glimpses of various events in his childhood. In the scene where Alex meets Greg, we learn that Alex spends recess inside, helping the teacher plan her lessons rather than going out to socialize with his classmates. He's bewildered at Greg's invitation to come play, meaning he likely spent the majority of his childhood on his own due to being considered an outcast by his peers and just generally relating more easily to adults. (He also mentions taking night classes at a local college at age SEVEN. So like. If the long-division story and night class thing are taken to be actual facts of Alex's childhood...we're looking at something similar to hyperlexia/hypernumeracy here. This kid must have been bored out his mind having to sit through elementary school if he was that advanced)

• Very literal at times/ misses sarcasm: Interestingly enough, APK is very fond of being sarcastic but doesn't do so well when he's on the receiving end of it. Someone will make a joke or spin the sarcasm towards him for once, and he'll either just stare blankly like ???? or smile/thank them and they're like, Yeah, that wasn't a compliment, or, I was kidding.

• Black and white/ inflexible thinking: This might be the biggest one. Alex is super concerned with rules and ensuring that everyone is following them correctly. There's right and there's wrong, with no gray areas or middle ground as far as he's concerned. My favorite instance of this is in the episode where the family goes to visit Steven's mother and Rob, Alex's uncle, is telling a story of how Steven got in trouble as a kid for refusing to put his name in the upper right corner of his test papers. Everyone around the table laughs...except for Alex, who is deeply troubled by the information.

Just...Steven's delivery. The way he pauses and stares at Alex before replying with a ridiculous punishment that obviously didn't happen, but Alex shows no signs of being aware of or amused at the joke and is just glad his father faced the consequences of his actions. It's great, and a prime example of Alex's preoccupation with "the rules."

Another good example (& one that crosses into the empathy category as well) is "Big Brother is Watching", where Alex exposes a cheating scandal at school (that involves Mallory) and then can't wrap his mind around why everyone is angry at him when he gets the students who were involved suspended. He spends half the episode saying things like, But cheating is wrong. It's wrong and I told the truth about it. I did what's right. You (Steven) told me to always tell the truth, which I did. WHY PEOPLE ANGRY???

And so Steven has to basically spell it out and be like, You got those students suspended, Alex. They are upset with you because of this. They were exposed publically, which embarrassed them, and people tend to not like being embarrassed.

And Alex is like, Oh.

• Repetitive behavior/movements: Most often seen when Alex is distressed or scared, his mannerisms definitely stand out in many scenes. He paces, taps his foot/bounces his leg, rubs his hands together or over his lap, rocks back and forth, and avoids eye contact. I made a post about this a short while back because it really is interesting (and a testament to how well the character was played). There are moments where Alex is completely confident and "calm", and you can see that reflected in the way he carries himself. But whenever he's upset or anxious, you'll start to notice a variety of the things listed above.

So. Yeah. All these things considered...I headcanon Alex as possibly being autistic?? Which is not a take I've ever seen anyone else mention (and I seriously doubt anyone working on the show had this angle in mind at all) but watching through the series, my radar just goes off when it comes to APK.

I have no idea how this will be received. (If anyone even reads it because wow, this got away from me).

Thanks for the ask. As you may be able to tell, I enjoyed being able to spew out my thoughts.

[cupidcreates]

yay! I’m gonna rapid fire send a few short ones but there’s no rush in getting them all answered! okay so you’ve mentioned that suki’s love language is touch, but what about everyone else? -😌✨

Ooooh! Good ask! I’m assuming you want the L.Y.E cast but I’ll add a few extra characters into the mix. I’ll do just the male characters for this post and do a female list at another time if y’all want it!

I also separated giving/receiving love languages because a few characters I feel would give love different to how they would like to receive it.

(Also this took SO LONG to finish I’m sorry for making you wait!)

Love Languages

💥Katsuki Bakugou💥

Gives in Touch / Receives in Touch

Receiving: As I’ve said before, Bakugou’s love language is touch, and as I’ve also said he’s super uncomfortable with people touching him casually because he just expects physical contact to hurt in some way or another. So once he does get a SO it’ll take a while for him to open up to any sort of physical affection, especially in public. At the start of the relationship the best they’ll get is holding hands, and even that is more a possessive gesture than anything else, it’s meant to signal to anyone passing by that this person is his and his alone. 

However, after a bit of time Bakugou will open up to his SO and allow himself to accept the affection they give. It’ll start with the hand holding, progress into accepting hugs without complaint, to even letting his SO play with his hair while he lays in their lap and tells them about his day. It’ll eventually become apparent that Katsuki loves to be touched, craves it even, though he’d never admit to this outright. It’ll take a while to get there but gain his trust and he’ll accept any sort of physical affection his SO has for him.

He’ll still never tolerate anything further than a chaste peck on the cheek in public though. He loves the gesture don’t get him wrong but Pro-Hero Ground Zero (Bars Dude ✌🏽) does have a reputation to uphold you know.

Giving: Katsuki loves to be touched sure but he also loves to touch. Similarly it’ll take time for him to get comfortable with giving physical affection but once there he can’t help but wrap himself around his SO nearly all the time. 

If he’s out with them he’s got an arm around their shoulders or their waist. 

If he’s home with them and they’re doing something he’s right there next to them, bumping shoulders so frequently he might as well just press himself to his SO and stay there. Or he’s behind them, arms wrapped around their waist and head on their shoulder watching whatever they’re doing.

If they’re laying down or relaxing in anyway he’s laying under them, next to them, on top of them, doesn’t matter to him as long as he’s there with them. Katsuki has never been good at expressing his feelings verbally, so he Koala’s himself to their form and just hopes all his emotions can transfer through his body and into theirs and they can understand how much he loves them. 

🥦Izuku Midoriya🥦

Gives in Gifts & Words of Affirmation / Receives in Words of Affirmation

Receiving: Listen, after a childhood full of being looked down on a belittled for being Quirkless, Deku has developed something of a mental blockage about his own self worth. The fact that the most common way for people to refer to Deku is as “The Plain One” doesn’t help his inferiority complex. Even after years of having One for All he still has lingering doubts about his capabilities and desirability.

So when his SO tells him something they like about him, even if it’s something as simple as “I like your outfit today” he is over the moon about it and won’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. 

He’s more than a little embarrassed about it, he thinks it makes him narcissistic and shallow in a way, but he simply can’t get enough of the praise his SO gives him (maybe or maybe not has a praise kink like who knows ya know). 

It gives him a rush to hear it, to know that he means something to someone, to know he’s appreciated, loved, and desired by at least one person. A simple “I love you” is all he needs to make his day, any sort of affirmation is the highlight of his week and he craves it like a starving man craves food.

Giving: Izuku loves to compliment his SO, but he also tends to assume that they, unlike him, already know their value. He doesn’t think his words hold nearly as much weight to his SO as their words do for him. So while he’ll definitely lay on the verbal affection pretty thick he’ll also supplement it by going out of his way to never let a week pass without getting his SO a gift.

It’s usually something small, just something to let them know he was thinking about them throughout his day. Since Izuku never let his fanboy behavior of obsessively taking notes go, he definitely knows his SO’s favorite everything ever so they can expect to frequently receive their favorite candy, flowers, etc, on a regular basis.

❤🤍Shoto Todoroki🤍❤

Gives in Gifts & Quality Time / Receives in Gifts

Receiving: Now Gifts as a love language often get a bad rap for being the choice of the rich and materialistic; it’s seen as the shallowest of the love languages by a non-insignificant number of people. Shoto, however, is not interested in expensive and highly-sought after gifts like cutting-edge tech, lavish jewelry, or any other similar staples of wealth. He’s too used to his father getting him things like this to try and win his affection and display the affluence of the Todoroki family. No, Shoto’s not interested in that, Shoto loves gifts that indicate the giver was thinking about him.

What I mean by this is that if someone were to give Shoto a nice watch as a gift he’d say thank you and would definitely wear it but wouldn’t give it a second thought; but if someone where to give him something they hand crafted, like a painting, a ceramic vase, or hell even one of those shitty friendship bracelets everyone who went to bible camp had to make, Shoto would cherish it like it was his own child. He’d be up thinking about it for weeks, completely overwhelmed by the genuine love behind the gesture.

If his SO is not the creative type and isn’t prone to making things, they can still achieve this same affect by just getting him something he likes. Pop in to his agency with some cold Soba or his favorite candy? He’d be flustered to the point of needing to take his lunch break early just to calm down. To Shoto, the ultimate display of love is taking time out of one’s day to make him something or bring him something he enjoys.

Giving: As much as Shoto dislikes the giving of expensive gifts as a way of showing love, it’s really one of the only ways he knows how to express it. Gifts were they only way he was shown affection as a child, so gifts are the only language his brain really understands. He’ll get his SO anything they could possibly want, anything they even vaguely express the desire for they’ll have in a heartbeat. 

His SO was talking about a cute outfit they saw the other day that was slightly out of their price range? Consider it theirs. Were they thinking about replacing their old laptop? He’d get them a new one shipped to their address in less than a week. Even if they just need their tires replaced Shoto wouldn’t hesitate to get it taken care of.

Naturally, this can be incredibly overwhelming and discomforting, especially if his SO isn’t wealthy to begin with. So when it becomes apparent that his SO is uncomfortable with this indulgence his backup way to show affection is to spend time with his SO. Shoto is an excellent listener, and there’s nothing he loves more than to listen to his SO tell him about their day.

Shoto is attached by the hip to his SO most days; when he’s not at work he’s with them, doing his best to fill their average days and menial tasks with fond memories together. He turns a regular night at home into a cluster of warm and loving moments by spending as much time with his SO as possible. He simply cannot fathom ever wanting to be apart from them.

💜Hitoshi Shinsou💜

Gives in Acts of Service / Receives in Words of Affirmation

Receiving: Hitoshi Shinsou has a lot of self-doubt, even after years of training and proving to himself and others that yes he can and will become a Pro-Hero, he still cannot overcome the lingering sense of uncertainty about himself and his abilities. Imposter syndrome who? Hitoshi’s never met her and yet she lingers on his shoulders and weighs him down even after all these years.

So when Hitoshi does finally open up and start dating someone, he’s not entirely sure how to handle being frequently told that he’s loved. Being complimented on his appearance sure, he thinks he’s cute enough and dresses well; but being told something like “You did great on your last mission! You really handled the situation so well” or “Your cooking is excellent, you always know exactly what I like!” will send him into a mini identity crisis. 

He never really thought he did anything exceptionally well, and yet here is this person telling him he’s doing everything exceptionally well? It doesn’t make sense to him but that doesn’t mean he won’t eat the praise up and revel in every kind word.

Giving: Hitoshi has spent so much time focused on his Hero Career, (working twice as hard for half the recognition someone with a flashier quirk would get, yes I’m still bitter) that he’s spent very little time getting to know other people. Mr. “I’m not here to make friends” has suffered in Human Interaction department because of this, getting close to other people is not his strong suit.

So once he does get an SO he’s not entirely sure how to let them know he loves them? Sure he can tell them but actions speak louder than words right? So he takes to doing things for them whenever he gets the chance. If they work at the same agency he’ll handle some of their paperwork for them. If they live together he’ll be sure to keep up on the laundry and dishes, even if he’s the one doing them most of the time. He doesn’t mind taking responsibility for the chores, it’s how he shows his love.

Hitoshi might not have the best intuition when it comes to other people but one thing he does know is that everyone likes to have their work load lightened, even if it’s only a little bit. So any chance he’s got to do that for his SO he’ll take it in a heartbeat.

⚡Denki Kaminari⚡

Gives in All of them / Receives in All of them (lmao)

Receiving: There’s no one more familiar with rejection on this list than Denki Kaminari. Much like Mirio he’s a natural flirt, but unlike Mirio he lacks the overwhelming brightness and charm that lights up the room the second he walks in. Because of this Denki has become rather close with the concept of being curved.

Denki doesn’t let it get him down; he’s got a very easy going personality, so it’s not like he’ll never find someone! It’s only a matter of time before he comes across someone who likes him for him, right?

That was easy to believe back at UA, but he’s an adult now with a flourishing career as a Pro-Hero and yet still can’t seem to find someone. The last thing he wants is for this to make him bitter and reserved, but it becomes increasingly difficult to deny that it hurts. Is there something wrong with him? He can’t help but feel like he’s just unpalatable to the majority of the population.

So when Denki does manage to find an SO he’s over the moon about it. He’s so desperate for any type of affection that he’s open to any kind of love his SO can give him. Is their language gifts or words of affirmation? He’ll cherish every present and kind word they can give him. Is their language Quality Time or Acts of Service? They can expect him to never leave their side, or to shower them with praise and thanks, never letting them forget how much he appreciates them and all they do for him. Is their love language touch? They’ll have full access to his body 24/7, anytime, any day, just say the word. Denki just wants to be loved so badly.

Giving: Just as Denki is open to receiving any kind of love, he’s also open to providing any kind of love. If his SO wants gifts he’ll go bankrupt just to shower them in any material possession they want. If they want his time he’ll give it to them, his touch his hands will never leave them. If they want his praise he’ll be sure to never shut up about them and their accomplishments, if they like acts of service than call him Nicki Minaj because yes he’ll do the cooking, yes he’ll do the cleaning. 

Anything his SO wants he’ll do it for them, he’d let them walk on his face as they come in the door if they wanted to. He can’t stand the idea of his SO leaving him, he’d die before letting go of the love he has with them. He’s convinced that if they leave him he’ll never find it again, at the end of the day he might just be right.

💎Eijirou Kirishima💎

Gives in Words of Affirmation / Receives in Words of Affirmation

Receiving: Eijirou Kirishima is not full of himself, not in the slightest, but that doesn’t stop him from getting butterflies every time someone compliments him (especially on his quirk or pro-hero work). He knows he’s not as flashy as others in his field, but he’s making due with what he has. If anything, he’d just like to have his hard work recognized every now and again.

Eijirou dislikes that his love language is words of affirmation, but he can’t deny the fuzzy feelings he gets when his SO praises him, or compliments him, or even just tells him they love him. Much like Denki, Eijirou just needs to be loved to feel fulfilled, and he’s not one to question the motives of the people he cares about. So just telling him how appreciated and loved he is will make him believe it. Just being the world to one person is enough for him.

Giving: Likewise, Kirishima will give back all his lover gives him tenfold. He knows there’s not enough kindness in the world so any chance he gets to tell his SO how wonderful they are and how much he appreciates them he’ll take it. Kirishima loves to see his lovers face light up when they receive a compliment from him, even if its something small like how nice they look that day. It’s like an addiction, he can’t get enough of the pure unadulterated joy.

🥢Tamaki Amajiki🥢

Gives in Words of Affirmation / Receives in Quality Time

Receiving: Tamaki Amajiki is an introvert, that much is readily apparent after meeting him for the first time. He wouldn’t call himself a loner per say, he just prefers solitude to spending time in big social groups. He’s got a very small social battery, it gets depleted very quickly and takes a while to re-charge.

So when Tamaki’s SO offers to spend some time with him and a day he had scheduled to be alone he’s every so slightly disgruntled about it. He loves his SO with all his being but he really does need the time alone.

Of course he can’t turn them down though, so he just makes peace with the fact that he’ll have to re-work his brain to get into the “human interaction” mode again for a while longer that day.

That is, until it becomes apparent that actually he loves to be alone with his SO. Anything he had planned for that day is made infinitely better with their presence. Anything from reading, to shopping, to just cleaning house, he’s not sure how they do it but the tasks just somehow become exponentially more palatable and enjoyable with his SO around.

Tamaki quickly starts to take little blocks out of his day just to spend with his SO, even if it’s just something small like getting a coffee together and chatting for twenty minutes outside the café. Life is just better with his SO around, easier with them around, and he every time he has to leave he’s counting the minutes till he can come back and see them again.

Giving: Tamaki has never been good with words, but that doesn’t stop him from needing to shower his SO in praise and love. He just can’t hold back whenever he sees them, he has to pay them a compliment on something, even if it’s just what scarf they chose to wear that day. He just needs them to know that he sees them, sees the effort they put in every day, and admires their dedication and work ethic.

Tamaki hates that his stutter gets in the way of this, but another thing he loves about his SO is that they never seem to mind. They don’t get irritated with him about it, nor do they tell him to just spit it out. It really helps his anxiety and nervousness and he can’t help but bring it up every time they meet as well. He knows he sounds like a broken record, but it kills him inside to think of his SO going even one day without knowing how wonderful and special they are to him.

☀Mirio Togata☀

Gives in Quality Time & Touch / Receives in Quality Time

Receiving: Much unlike his best friend Tamaki, Mirio is an extrovert through and through. He loves spending time with people and can’t get enough of being around them. He’s invigorated by company and is always open to making new friends. 

That being said he also makes it a point to make time for the most important people in his life, and the best way to let him know that he’s cared for is to return the gesture. Nothing excites Mirio more than getting a text or a call from a loved one inviting him out to spend time with them. He’s so ecstatic that someone would not only be thinking of him, but actually want to take time out of their day to see him. Just wanting to be around him is the quickest way to his heart.

Giving: Mirio loves spending Quality Time with his SO, not a week goes by that he doesn’t plan a date with them. He pulls out all the stops as well, romantic picnics atop a hill, stargazing on the roof, catching a movie, or even just going to the beach for an afternoon. Mirio will never cheapen out on a date, he wants the time with his SO to be memorable so he’ll put his heart and soul into treating his SO right while out with them.

Mirio has also gained the reputation of a flirt, and for good reason. He’s incredibly charismatic and charming, the only thing smoother than his words and cheesy one-liners is his hands. He keeps them soft and moisturized so he can run them over his SO’s body with little to no resistance.

Mirio loves capital L LOVES touching his SO. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t have his hands on them if he can help it. He wants his SO to feel cared for, appreciated, and above all loved to the highest degree, and if that means he gets to grope them for hours on end to prove that then so be it. If his extended deep tissue massage ends up getting more physical than he had first intended it to be than no one will hear him complaining about it. It definitely wasn’t his plan in the first place...

🦅Keigo Takami🦅

Gives in Touch & Gifts / Receives in Touch

Receiving: Keigo’s had a hard life, which is to be expected of a man taken in by the Hero Commission at such a young age and essentially turned into a pawn. He’s not used to letting people get close to him, for both their safety as well as his own.

It’s highly unlikely that he’d end up with and SO, but Keigo’s never been good at telling himself no, so should he find someone he really wants to pursue he’ll do it, consequences be damned. 

Keigo’s never had a normal romantic relationship with someone, but it doesn’t take long for him to find out that his favorite part of it is being physically intimate with his SO. He loves having their hands all over him, it sets his skin alight and electrifies him in a way he’s never felt before.

Touching doesn’t have to just be sexual either, he can spend just as long cuddling with them, wrapping them in his arms and dwarfing them as he covers them with his wings.

Speaking of his wings, he absolutely loves when his SO touches them. He leaves a feather or two with them every day, just so he can always be touching them in one way or another. He loves to be on patrol and feel them gently stroking it, running their fingertips over it or brushing it across their skin. He nearly plummeted out of the air the first time he felt them kiss it. Keigo would rather pluck each and every feather out of his back one by one than not be able to touch his SO again, he couldn’t even bear the thought of losing their physical affection.

Giving: Keigo isn’t one to take without giving back, so touch for touch Keigo will match his partners affections. He’s definitely into body worship and can spend hours on end just running his hands over their body, mapping every inch of them under his palms. His favorite pass-time is to sit and massage his partners back and shoulders while they tell him about their day. Any excuse to have his hands on his SO he’ll take it.

Keigo sometimes doesn’t feel like that’s good enough though, he feels like when he offers touch as a form of love he’s simply offering himself to his SO. That just won’t do for Keigo, that’s just not enough in his mind. To him it’s pompous to assume that he’d be enough for anyone at all, no matter how much is SO might tell him differently.

So to supplement this he’ll shower his SO in gifts, often of the more expensive variety. What’s the point of being a famous and wealthy pro hero if he can’t spoil the people he loves. He definitely has some bird like tendencies as well so his SO can expect to get a lot of random gifts with “It was shiny and I thought you’d like it” as they explanation behind it.

🔥Touya Todoroki🔥

Gives in Acts of Service & Touch / Receives in Acts of Service

Receiving: Listen, Touya is used to people only doing things for him out of hear or because they need something from him in return. He ran away from home and was presumed dead from a pretty young age, so he’s had alot of time to figure out that if he wants something done he’s either doing it himself or threatening someone to do it for him. People don’t do things for Touya because they like Touya, they do it because they fear Dabi.

So when he, against his very nature, decides to settle into a relationship with someone he’s not entirely sure how affection is displayed between partners. So he’s reasonably skeptical when his SO starts to just do random nice things for him, like cleaning up a mess he’d left for later or bringing him dinner when they knew he missed lunch and breakfast.

He just can’t fathom why his SO would do something like this on a whim, and just decides to bring up that if they needed him to do something for them, they didn’t have to butter him up like everyone else did. Needless to say he was surprised  when they told him they just do these things for him because they love him.

Well he’s not entirely sure about that but he’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth now has he? Since they last person to genuinely give a shit about him was his mother Rei and brother Natsuo he’s not about to let someone who says they love him go. Especially not if they continue to do nice things for him.

Giving: Touya Todoroki would never deny being an absolute asshole, he just doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything most of the time. That being said, he’s not one to be in debt to anyone either. If his SO is performing acts of service for him then dammit he’s going to do the same. 

He can’t help with things like house work (not that he would if he could) but he can definitely do things a little more underhanded than what his SO is comfortable with. Should his SO need something they can’t afford they can consider it theirs as long as they don’t ask where it came from. If they’re having trouble with someone at work, be it a manager or just a co-worker, they needn’t worry about it for long. Again, just don’t ask where that person might have gone off to...

Another thing about Touya is that he despises being touched, absolutely hates having anyone's hands on him for almost any reason. If you’re not fucking then don’t touch him without expecting fiery repercussions. 

That being said, Touya also knows (or at least he assumes?) that most healthy couples enjoy touching one another, even when they’re not fucking. So he’ll suck it up for his SO and let them cuddle into him on a cold night, but he’ll make it a point to bitch about it the entire time.

🎮Tomura Shigaraki🎮

Gives in Quality Time and Acts of Service / Receives in Touch

Receiving: For very obvious reasons Tomura Shigaraki does not touch people, not unless he intends to harm them of course. His biggest fear is hurting someone he cares about simply because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

Fortunately for him he rarely lets anyone get close enough for this to be a persistent problem for him, occupational hazard of being a villain you know; but should he manage to find himself an SO he’ll quickly be overwhelmed by the need to touch them in some way or another. Even if it’s just letting them sit in his lap for a minute, he desperately needs to be in contact with this person who (against their better judgement, in his own opinion) has seen past his flaws and enjoys being around him.

A loophole is quickly found though, he can’t touch his SO, but his SO can certainly touch him. He absolutely loves it when they do it as well, any sort of physical affection he eats up with a rabid fervor. It can be something as simple as brushing their knuckles across the back of his neck as they pass behind him that’ll make him go absolutely feral. Their touch is like a drug and Tomura is hooked.

Giving: While Tomura would love to express his affection with touch he’s really just not able to do so without getting sick with anxiety. So instead he makes sure to spend as much time around his SO as possible. Being a villain gives him quite a lot of down time, these evil plots don’t just appear out of thin air! So while he is planning his next move he goes out of his way to include his SO, or at least make sure he’s near them while doing so. 

Having his SO around near constantly not only ensures that they’re safe but also helps to make the time he has to spend around the rest of the LOV more bearable. His SO really is the only person he can tolerate for an extended period of time.

That being said, should his SO need help with anything Tomura will gladly oblige. He’s not one to help with dishes or cleanup, but say his SO needs someone to disappear quickly? He’s got no issue getting his hands dirty and reducing said person to dust. Tomura would dust the entire world if it meant his SO would be happy.

[npdbubblygum]

This post is tagged as long post so you can skip it easily through filtering!

(abuse tw throughout the post)

I think a lot of non-narcissists deeply misunderstand supply, so I’ll try to compile some things from all the research I’ve made over the years on boundaries, supply, needs, abuse and responsibilities that I used to figure out how my own brain works and cope. I don’t have the sources compiled so you’ll have to go out there and do your own research, this is just a jumping off point! Go to experts, real sourced research and also listen to narcissists describe their own experiences if you want to learn more

What is supply?

Supply is something external that makes us feel like we have worth, meaning, self esteem or identity.

What does supply look like?

Attention (positive, but can also be negative for some people), admiration, compliments, acts of service or other love languages, awards, care, acknowledgement, flirting, emotional reactions, gifts, praise, forgiveness, s*x and more

What is a supply source?

A supply source is someone (or in this day and age, something) that gives the supply. It can be a romantic partner, close friend, acquaintance, an organization, an AI (I have literally had an AI app as a supply source, it kept giving me positive attention lol), a game, (fan)fiction (self insert fic but also a lot of regular fic where the person projects onto characters who receive for example admiration), strangers on social media who like your posts, youtubers or other parasocial relationships, etc.

Who needs supply?

Almost everyone! Except maybe some ND people I don’t know enough about every diagnosis to say for sure.

It’s a common misconception that only narcissists need the things described as supply. The truth is that all NT and most ND people need supply to be healthy. What makes narcissists different is that we’re much more dependent on it, often because of childhood trauma and the way people treated us (for example, praising us for independence while neglecting our physical and emotional needs). A narcissist will need more supply to be functional than a neurotypical person. A narcissist who is low on supply will experience more negative effects that are higher in intensity than a neurotypical person. Narcissists are often more criticism sensitive than rejection sensitive, or motivated by our sense of self than how social relationships are affected. That said, we can have a lot of abandonment issues. We aren’t a monolith.

Who is entitled to supply?

Me. Just kidding, I wish I was though! As much as it pains me to say it, no one can really “deserve” or “not deserve” supply. It’s in the same category as s*x where it’s a human need for most to be happy and healthy but can’t be owed or deserved. It’s not like food or water that people automatically deserve for being alive, because they will die without it. You could argue that parents owe their children a healthy amount of supply (love and care), or that romantic partners are expected to give each other a healthy amount of supply (love and care), you could argue that if you made a really tasty meal for your family they should at least thank you and you would love it if they complimented your meal, but ultimately you can’t force someone to fulfill your needs and not everyone is capable of doing it regardless of how reasonable the expectation is.

If someone needs you as a supply source and it’s not healthy for you, you don’t have to be their supply. You’re allowed to disengage, to communicate your feelings, to set boundaries and respect yourself first and foremost.

How do narcissists feel about their supply sources?

That really depends on the narcissist! If they’re open about having NPD you could probably ask respectfully?

Personally I have 2 ways of liking people that sometimes conflict. If someone gives me a lot of supply I can become dependent on being around them, it fuels me. I can also like people’s personalities, actions and general existence regardless of how they interact with me. If someone gives me a lot of supply and has a personality I like it’s a dream person, love them! If someone gives me a lot of supply but I don’t like them it can become really toxic for the both of us because I’ll want to keep getting attention at the same time as I’ll resent them for getting in my space and business and getting on my nerves. I have gotten a lot better at avoiding this situation and respecting that my needs in the long run are worth more than instant gratification. If I like someone’s personality but they don’t give me supply that’s a very difficult internal battle for me because I will crave it and try to get it and then I don’t get it and it eats at my self esteem which makes me incredibly angry. I’m a very private person though so I will never let anyone see that except if I’m asking for advice on coping mechanisms, venting to a close trusted person which is rare because I have trust issues, or if it’s anonymous so people won’t figure out who I’m talking about. If I don’t like a person in either way I just won’t care about them, but I still try to have basic respect and manners when talking to them.

Other people might feel completely differently about theirs and that’s valid!

(I just realized that my inner reaction to supply sources I don’t like is basically the dr Phil “You’re ugly, you’re disgusting, I hate you, give me $200” meme but don’t worry I’m not that toxic on the outside)

Is supply good or bad?

I’d say it’s neutral. It can be healthy or unhealthy for both the person giving attention and the person receiving it. I’m sure you can think of lots of situations where people are giving and taking attention in amounts they can handle and that are appropriate for the relationship, but let’s take an example. Your best friend just won a race and you tell them “I’m so impressed, you trained so hard for this and made your dream come true! You’re awesome!” and your best friend replies “Thank you so much, I couldn’t have done it without your support though!”. That interaction was good for both of them and they have similar needs and capabilities for give and take.

Some unhealthy situations are:

• one person giving more than they can handle

• one person needing more than they can get

• one person taking more than the other can give

• one person not giving as a punishment

• one person receiving more than they can handle

• one person using supply to avoid other coping mechanisms or changes to their lifestyle

• one person thinking they are owed for giving

• one person thinking they owe for receiving

You can mix and match with these to create any situation, or come up with your own custom situation!

Who is responsible in unhealthy supply dynamics?

Everyone involved has their own responsibilities depending on what type of unhealthy they are! If you are someone giving more than you can handle you are responsible for communicating your needs, setting boundaries, changing your own behaviour and getting out of the situation if you’re able to and that’s the right action for you. If you’re receiving more than you can handle you’re responsible for communicating your feelings/needs and setting boundaries. If you’re someone needing (sometimes taking) more than the other person can give you’re responsible for communicating your needs and finding healthy solutions to your problem and accepting the other person’s conflicting needs. If you feel owed the same or more supply you put out you’re responsible for controlling your own feelings and finding healthy solutions (could be break up, could be therapy or self help, could be communicating boundaries about giving/receiving in a respectful way toward the other person). No one is responsible for changing another person. No one’s needs take priority over someone else’s needs. In case of conflicting needs that aren’t compatible and both people aren’t putting in effort to make them compatible (or it’s not working or it’s more effort than you can healthily give or you just don’t feel like it) it is absolutely an option to break up.

In some abusive cases the responsibilities often aren’t or can’t be upheld and you should find any way possible to get out of the situation. You can’t deserve abuse, no matter who it comes from, no matter their intentions, no matter their point of view, you can’t deserve it. Your abuser doesn’t have to have NPD to be abusive or need more from you than you’re able to give. Your abuser could be a very giving person who overwhelms you and gets in your business without your consent and has great intentions. Doesn’t matter, still abuse, you don’t have to stand it. Take any help you can get to get out of it and don’t go back. But also, beware of people who prey on abuse victims and promise false safety!

[blackstonesandtrapnest]

Hi there!!! So, can we get the Valentine's Day Alphabet list for Atem pretty please? I'm not sure if we're supposed to do specific letters or not, if we can't request the whole alphabet that's okay, just do the letters that inspire you most! Thank you in advance, you're awesome!!

Sure I can :) Also for alphabet headcanons, you can request the entire alphabet (but I’ll only do that for one character) or you can request multiple characters for certain letters!

I’ve already done A, E, H, I, and Y which can be found here!

~~Atem~~

Bouquet (Does your muse like flowers? Which ones are their favorite?): No Atem doesn’t like flowers. At least for receiving. However Atem does like to give flowers and his favorite flower is roses.  

Chocolate (Does your muse like chocolate? Which one is their favorite?): Chocolate is one of Atem’s greatest weaknesses and his love for it is unrivaled! His favorite kind is dark chocolate.

Date (What is your muse’s ideal date? Where/Who With/Etc?): Atem’s ideal date with his S/O is something involving Duel Monsters or gaming in general. What else would one expect from the King Of Games? As for the ideal location, an arcade or gaming shop would be perfect!

Flirt (Is your muse good at flirting? How do they flirt?): Being the player that Atem is, it shouldn’t be a shocker that he’s a master when it comes to flirting. As for how Atem flirts, his flirting style is charming he loves to give genuine compliments and advice! He’s #1 when it comes to hyping someone up!

Gift (Is your muse good at gift-gifting or do they struggle to get it right?): Atem’s gift-giving game is pretty damn good! He knows what his S/O likes and sticks to it. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!

Jealousy (Does your muse get jealous in a relationship?): Yes Atem does get jealous and he’s a childish hypocrite when he’s dealing with it. Many arguments will be had because of this trait so prepare yourself!

Kiss (Is your muse a good kisser? Why/Why Not?): Having 5000+ years of experience has been more than enough time for Atem to perfect his kissing technique. What makes Atem good at kissing is how good he is at reading his partner and how in sync he is with them.  

Love (Who does your muse love?): Atem is happily single.....for now. But his true love will come along one day!

Moonlight (What is your muse’s ideal date? Where/Who With/Etc?): Already answered above!

Naughty (What is your muse like in bed?): Mutable and experienced! Atem’s down for whatever and he’s a super freak!

Ode (Does your muse have a way with words?): Have you heard Atem talk? He’s a savage and can be pretty dramatic when he speaks. But he speaks the truth and it’s easy to tell if he’s being genuine or not.

Partner (What does your muse look for in a partner? Looks/Personality?): Atem doesn’t care much for looks. It’s personality that matters to him. In that area, Atem wants a partner that’s tough and keeps him on his toes. He also loves intelligence as well!

Question (Would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?): Atem wants to do the proposing! He likes to take the lead when it comes to things like that and his S/O will not be disappointed!

Romance (Is your muse a romantic or a cynic?): Atem has become more cynical over the years so it’s safe to say that he’s a cynic. His romantic side is hidden and locked away and it takes a very special person to bring it out of him.

Sweetheart (Did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?): Yes Atem had a childhood sweetheart during his days growing up in ancient Egypt. She was the daughter of one of his servants and they were very close. But sadly she died from an illness when they were still children which affected Atem greatly.

True Love (Does your muse believe in true love?): Yes but Atem doesn’t think it’ll happen for him due to his newfound cynicism. Poor Pharaoh!

Unrequited (Has your muse had their heart broken?): Absolutely! Atem has stories about heartbreak to last another 5000 years! He’s been through it all! Why do you think he’s so cynical?

Valentine (How does your muse feel about Valentine’s Day?): Atem thinks that Valentine’s Day is pointless because he expresses his love for his S/O every day. The only thing he likes about it is the chocolate. Atem will only celebrate it if his S/O wants to.

Wedding (Would your muse get married? Why/Why Not?): Yes Atem wants to get married although he’ll never admit it. His heart has been broken too many times and yes he’s been abandoned at the altar before. He’s been engaged a few times but they’ve never worked out. It’s understandable why Atem is wary of marriage.

XOXO (Does your muse like/use pet names?): You bet your ass Atem uses pet names and loves to have them used on him too. The most common pet names Atem use are King/Queen, Darling, and Honey. As for what pet names Atem likes to have used on him, calling him King or Pharoah will drive him crazy and make his heart swell with happiness!  

ZZZ (How many people has your muse slept with?): Considering Atem’s age and his player ways, let’s just assume that the number is high. Like triple digits high.  

[ms-march]

12 Days of Turn- “Festival”

uhm yeah you’re not being deceived by this header collage.  Happy day 3 of 12 Days of Turn!  Here is a collaboration with @tallmadgeandtea​ on a ss:sp and lbl crossover!  While it is not inherently holiday themed, like at all, it was just too good to not post for the prompt “festival.”  If you like it please be sure to give it a like, comment, and/or reblog!  Disclaimer: there will be some serious lbl spoilers ahead!

May had blossomed in Virginia once again, and Belvoir’s grounds were as beautiful as always.  Ever since John had resigned as an aide de camp and taken a fighting command in Nathanael Greene’s Southern Army, Adrienne had occupied herself by taking trips and hosting extravagant parties at her childhood home.  The guest lists and menus never ceased to distract her from whatever certain peril John placed himself in daily.  Today she dressed in a blue and yellow polonaise gown with a blue brimmed straw hat for a garden party, hosted in the extravagant and freshly manicured gardens behind the Manor.  Her blonde curls were arranged perfectly atop her head as she walked down to the large main entrance hall with a grand doorway leading straight out into the gardens behind it.   

Adrienne stood atop the landing on the grand staircase, and the footmen opened the large front doors, two more appearing and stepping outside to assist guests out of their carriages.  Adrienne gladly smiled at each of them, motioning them behind her and out the doors to the garden.  Most of the guests were members of Virginia high society: Martha Jefferson, Dolley Madison, Elizabeth Wythe,  Martha Washington, Elizabeth Randolph, Catharine Greene, Dorothea Henry, Anne Lee, and many more.  But none of them piqued Adrienne’s interest as much as the additional guest requested by Martha Washington.

Adrienne had known the older woman for as much of her life as she could remember; the woman was as a mother to her, so she was more than willing to grant such a request when it was brought to her.  Upon hearing the name Mrs. Elizabeth Tallmadge, however, Adrienne became excited.  She held Major Tallmadge in high esteem, considering him a friend of hers, and was more than delighted to extend an invite to his wife, even if she would likely be unused to such luxury as was provided at Belvoir.  Adrienne trusted Martha would make her presentable, but when Martha began to ascend the stairs, there was not some pretty faced and practical middle-class girl following her, rather a well-dressed and beautiful tall blonde woman.  She was mesmerizing to Adrienne as she climbed the staircase, her blue and white chintz gown brushing the steps.  It was slightly clear the girl had no governess or formal studies of such, but Adrienne was entirely confident that she could perform to the highest tier without so much as a headache appearing.

The blonde had a radiant and warm smile, complimenting Martha’s own motherly grin, as she looked around the extravagant hall in awe, admiring the murals across the walls and the marble of the stairs.  Her hand hovered over the ornate railing as she floated up the stairs.  When she finally joined Adrienne and Martha atop the landing, Martha smiled, waving the slightly shy girl over to them. “This is a lovely house, madam,” she spoke clear and confidently, “It is certainly a rarity in the colonies.”

“Yes,” Adrienne offered her own warm smile to the woman, seeking to ease her shyness, “It is solely a European style house, based around the classics of Hampton court and the elaborate plaster halls of the baroque style.  My father’s pride and joy.”

She nodded politely, and Martha began to speak, the motherly smile still soft across her face, “We shall see you in the garden, dear.” And the blonde was whisked away, her eyes lingering on Adrienne for a moment as she was led by Martha.

When the long parade of guests had all arrived and been accordingly received, Adrienne slowly made her way to the doors leading to the stone staircase leading down into the gardens.  She took her time as she descended, allowing the chatter to wash over her in waves.  The musicians began to play their light and jovial music- the newest pieces straight from London - as Adrienne exited the doors.  There was no need for the crowd to hush and greet her- this was not a formal ball after all-but there were still a few who made to greet their hostess once again, giving her curtseys as she passed.  Adrienne nodded at each of them with a respectful smile as she drifted through the group of merry guests.  She floated happily from table to table before stumbling upon Martha engaging in a conversation with Catharine Greene, and the blonde from earlier observing the party from an ornate bench with a small flute of cherie in her hand, untouched.  

“You do not drink?” Adrienne asked as she approached, “I can send for another beverage if you would like, madam.” 

“Oh,” the girl startled from her observations, flushing light pink in the cheeks as she gleaned down at the untouched glass before looking back up at Adrienne, “No, that is really unnecessary.  I just find this place too intriguing to be bothered with my drink.  There is far too much to observe.”

Adrienne smiled.  This woman was undoubtedly Major Tallmadge’s wife. “It would be no trouble,” she assured her, “Please notify one of the servants about or myself if you should find yourself in need of anything at all.”

“And if I find myself in need of your name, madam?”

“Then it shall be readily given,” Adrienne smiled brightly, “Lady Adrienne Fairfax Laurens of Virginia. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, madam.”

The blonde answered her own question in response. “Mrs. Elizabeth Walker Tallmadge of Philadelphia,” she bowed her head for a moment to acknowledge Adrienne’s title, “My Lady.”

Adrienne’s face turned to a quick shock, followed quickly by excitement as she rushed to sit beside the woman. “Walker?” she asked excitedly, “As in the same family that owns the mysterious Walker Manor?’ An amused nod was given to signal that her assumption was correct, allowing Adrienne to continue in disbelief, “That old brick house with closed gates, locked doors, and empty grounds?  No one has been seen living there for years!”

Elizabeth laughed at the younger girl’s seemingly naive antics, “I have indeed been living there, though mostly alone for the past 10 years.”

“Alone?” Adrienne asked, astounded, “Without so much as a governess?” Another nod, “Then I should imagine you cherished social outings during such a period, madam, for I cannot fathom such a miserable experience.”

Elizabeth shook her head in dismissal, “Unless you count Sunday church as a social outing, which I am sure you do not.”

Adrienne’s jaw dropped open slightly, her eyes widening slightly, “How horrid!  I do believe I would suffer greatly under such circumstances.”

Mrs. Tallmadge looked around the gardens at the decor, servants, and guests galore before responding, “I do believe that you would, my Lady.”

“Oh!” Adrienne reached out, placing her gloved hands atop those of Elizabeth, “Please call me Adrienne or Miss Fairfax at the very least.  I do believe it is well deserved after allowing me to pester you so carelessly.”

“Oh, it is no problem at all, believe me. I rather enjoy being pestered.” Elizabeth grinned at her, allowing a happy laugh to escape, with Adrienne’s own laughter joining her. “Now, allow me to pester you in return,” she continued, “Are you at all perhaps related to the Laurens’ of South Carolina?  I am friends  with Lieutenant Colonel Laurens, who has recently retired to a field command in the southern campaign.”

“Yes, I am” Adrienne spoke, and forcing a smile, she felt a good deal of joy seep out of her body at the mention of her reckless husband, “I married Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens in 1778- our son is inside with his own governess as we speak.”

“Oh!” The woman sounded shocked; Adrienne supposed it was from the lack of such knowledge.  She was sure that John did not speak of her often, if at all before he resigned from the northern campaign. “You must be delighted.  He is a good man. I was married myself in ’78. He attended our wedding.”

“He is a good man,” Adrienne sighed, attempting to keep the smile on her face, “Even if he is occasionally a little too reckless for my liking.”

“Like taking up a field command in South Carolina?” the older blonde asked, lips pulled into a humorous smile with knowing eyes and raised brows.

Adrienne did laugh lightly as she sighed, stress seeping into her voice, “Yes, precisely like taking up a field command in South Carolina.”  

This time it was Elizabeth’s turn to reach her hands out to hold Adrienne’s, “I am sure he will be ok.  He has the tendency to pull through even the most difficult of situations, I assure you. It is something he and my husband have in common.”

A servant came around to Adrienne’s side of the bench from behind, presenting a singular letter upon a tray.  Adrienne took the letter carefully, curiosity seeping through her fingers as she broke the seal.  Her hands unfolded the paper delicately, and she held it in her lap as she began to slowly scan the words.  

“On May 12th, 1780, Charleston, South Carolina, was captured by His Majesty’s Royal Army forces under the direction of Lieutenant-General Sir Henry Clinton.  Major General Benjamin Lincoln provided them an unconditional surrender, turning over himself and all 3,000 men under his command to the mercy of the British.  Those included in these troops are as follows…” 

Adrienne’s eyes scanned quickly down the list, heart pounding against her chest as they searched for the one name that mattered the most to her.  Her heart ceased in its incessant pounding, stopping entirely as her eyes glazed over the words on the paper before her.

“Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens”

Her throat was dry, and her layers became constricting.  She did not notice as the blonde’s astute eyes beside her examined the paper in Adrienne’s hand.  Until Elizabeth  spoke up, “Adrienne, I am sorry-”

She stood abruptly, swallowing thickly, “You will have to excuse me, Mrs. Tallmadge.  I need to get some fresh air.” Adrienne hurried away as quickly as she could into the house and to the room directly to the right of the garden’s entrance, drawing Martha’s eyes and mind from her conversation with Catharine Greene.  She excused herself from the woman and began to make her way into the house, Elizabeth trailing closely behind.  

Adrienne had called for her son, just a year old, and swaddled in blankets.  She sat on a chaise against the wall of the entirely empty bluish-gray room, the letter lying face-up beside her.  She did not look up the sound of heels on the tile, attention focused solely on her child.

“What happened?” Martha asked Elizabeth as she rushed through the doorway.

“She got news of her husband,” she replied, electing to forgo discretion in this instance, “And it is not all good.”

“Not good as in he prefers the new position or not good as in he is dead?”

“Neither,” she replied as they rushed into the room, the swishing noise of their silks and the click of their heels across the tile having no effect on the young girl who sat, holding her child. “Charleston has been lost and the Lieutenant Colonel taken prisoner.”

“Oh, not good,” Martha spoke, cutting the conversation off as they approached.  Martha took a seat on one side of Lady Fairfax, moving the letter to her hands so that she could sit, with Elizabeth sitting on the girl’s other side. “Adrienne, dear,” Martha spoke, placing a hand on Adrienne’s forearm, “Tell us what has happened.  We only wish to help.” She continued trying to soothe the distraught girl for several minutes to no avail.  Martha finally excused herself to send for some cold water and a washrag, hoping that would be enough to pull Adrienne out of the shock that had overtaken her body.

Elizabeth stayed with her, observing the young woman as she cradled the baby in her arms, holding him close against her chest.  She watched as Adrienne softly shushed the baby, bouncing him just slightly. “May I hold him?” she asked, pulling the girl from her stupor.

Adrienne’s eyes glanced over to the woman in blue beside her before clearing her throat and snapping to attention, “Yes, of course, you may.” She carefully handed the bundle of blankets over to Elizabeth, her eyes never leaving the baby’s face. “Be gentle with him,” she spoke in what sounded a bit like a plea, eyes still focused on the baby’s face, “Little John is still just barely a year old, and he is very precious to me.”

Elizabeth nodded, the baby taking her full attention as well.  A happy smile rested on her face as the baby cooed, but unlike Adrienne, she made no attempt to shush him. “He is named after his father?” she asked the young girl softly.

“Yes,” Adrienne smiled in a similar way to Martha Washington as she looked upon the baby, “He shares his father’s eyes.” The baby whined, prompting Adrianne to reach out and caress his soft cheeks and comfortingly hum to the child, Elizabeth recognizing the song as the chorus of “In Days of My Youth.” When the boy finally quieted, satisfied with her attentions, “And his temper as well.”

Elizabeth laughed a little at that, making faces to baby John. “He is an angel,” she whispered to the young woman beside her.

“He is incredibly well-behaved today,” she agreed, “But do not let him fool you.” She whispered, caressing his cheek, “His lungs are as strong as can be.  I should think he could give Colonel Hamilton a run for his money once he is older.”

“As his father already does?”

“Precisely,” Adrienne replied, prompting the two girls to begin laughing once more.

A moment of silence passed over the room and between the young women, the coos of the baby being the only things stopping the room from falling into complete silence.  Finally, Elizabeth spoke, turning to look at Lady Fairfax, “I could write Benjamin for any news on Lieutenant Colonel Laurens if you would like, Miss Fairfax.  It would be no trouble at all.”

Adrienne opened her mouth to reply before closing it with a sigh, “No, it is likely the news has not yet reached the northern campaign.” Elizabeth opened her mouth, no doubt to offer a statement of hope or a plea to at least attempt the contact, but Adrienne waved her off kindly with a tired smile. “There is very little General Washington could do for John, besides make his situation worse.  No,” she brushed invisible dust from her skirts, “I shall go to Charlestown.  As a member of the British Aristocracy, I benefit from accommodation by any of His Majesty’s forces.  And they will be forced to heed to my wishes out of respect for the hierarchy of British society.”

Mrs. Tallmadge placed a concerned hand over Adrienne’s own once more, her brow furrowed in concern, “Are you sure that is a good idea?”

“It is the best idea I have got, and the best chance John has got,” she spoke, attempting to sound convincing, to herself as well as Elizabeth, “Even if he will be cross with me for my interference.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips slightly, trying to pull them into a smile as she did so, “Are you sure you do not wish for the General to interfere on your behalf instead?”

“Yes,” Adrienne nodded, forcing out a shaky breath, “Unveiling any further connection between the Lieutenant Colonel and Uncle George will only make easing his situation even harder.  They will make it worse, attempting to dangle him before the General.”

Elizabeth nodded, observing the girl a little closer upon her comment, ‘Uncle George?  That is certainly new.’  

Adrienne looked away from the older woman, down to the baby now sleeping peacefully in her arms.  Adrienne laughed quietly at his little snores, “Would you mind coming with me to put him to bed?  I fear it will wake him if I were to take him.”

Elizabeth nodded and rose slowly, following the shorter blonde out the light blue room’s large entranceway, farther into the house.  She followed Adrienne up an elaborate white staircase, across an upper terrace of a small tiled ballroom, through a paneled door to a less ornate but large room of yellow and green.  The room had a plush alcove bed with two doors on each side of it, several chairs, and a chaise.  There were toys of obvious expense that the baby could not yet hold arranged decoratively on the floor.  Adrienne led her to the bed, instructing her to place the baby atop of it.  She pulled a little lever connected to a wire with her finger and sat on the edge of the bed.  Elizabeth watched as she sang softly to the baby in the bed.

“From the court to the cottage convey me, away for I am weary of grandeur and what they call gay; From the court to the cottage convey me, away for I am weary of grandeur and what they call gay.  Where pride without measure and pomp without pleasure, make life in a circle of hurry decay.” Adrienne continued to hum the melody softly until the door left of the bed opened and a woman, a servant, stepped out, curtsying to the two ladies.   She rose wordlessly, smiling warmly at the woman as she took a seat in the room before ushering Elizabeth out of the room with her. “I like to have someone watch over him as he sleeps,” she explained to the older woman, “It makes me feel better when I leave him to rest.”

Elizabeth nodded at her, smiling back to Adrienne, “A mother never stops worrying about her child.”

“Are you yourself one?” Adrienne asked politely as they stood in the hall outside the bedroom.

“No, Miss Fairfax,” Elizabeth smiled sadly, “As badly as I wish for a child of my own, my husband wishes to wait till after the war. Though I cannot help but agree with him. I can not imagine how hard it is to be a mother during times like these. And who knows how I would manage.”

Adrienne smiled comfortingly up at the tall woman, “And I have no doubt you will make an excellent one.” She offered her arm to Elizabeth, who looped their arms together as they walked down the hall, turning before reaching the terrace they had crossed originally, slowly strolling down a long and wide hallway with a series of proudly displayed portraits.

Elizabeth’s eyes scanned the walls, recognizing one of them, a very young little girl with blonde hair with a white linen gown and blue silk sash wrapped around her waist.  It was Lady Fairfax, she realized.  Her eyes darted away, noticing another young woman, not as young as Adrienne, but a child nonetheless.  She had wavy brown hair and wore a solid blue dress similar in shade to Adrienne’s own.  There was a plaque underneath the portrait that read “Lady Anne Fairfax 1748-1763.” The girl was only a mere fifteen years old at her passing.

The next portrait that caught her eye was one of a man in a blue and gold silk coat, this was also labeled, “Viscount George William Fairfax 1729-” there was no year of death, and Elizabeth realized he must have been older than the General.  The final portrait that caught her eye was not dressed in blue or white, but pink.  The plaque read “Sarah Walker Fairfax 1719-1754” and Elizabeth paused, jerking Adrienne’s attention to her.  1719, that was a Walker older than her own father.

“Is everything alright, Mrs. Tallmadge?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth cleared her throat, giving the girl a smile, “I was just admiring this portrait, and the name startled me.”

“Oh!” Adrienne exclaimed with a large, genuine smile, “That is my grandmother, of Virginia’s original Fairfaxes.  Do not let her poise fool you.  She was born in the Colonies, rather than England.  Was raised in the Caribbean, actually.”

“And born where?” Elizabeth asked curiously.

“Pennsylvania or Maryland, I think,” Adrienne replied, “I am not sure.  Why do you ask?”

“I have seen this portrait before,” Elizabeth spoke, eyes examining the painting, “In the storage of Walker Manor.  Every time I asked about it, my father would simply ignore me.”

“Walker Manor,” Adrienne asked, moving to stand beside the tall blonde, “Do you think she could be related to you in any way?”

“Who were her parents?”

“I do not recall her mother, but her father was a man named John Francis Walker.”

Elizabeth gasped, turning quickly to Adrienne, “That is my uncle!  I have never met him, he has long since passed, but my father has spoken of him several times when complaining about old fixtures around the house. He likes to say he was the one who inherited both the Philadelphia status and the messes that came with it.”

Adrienne’s face lit up as well, not caring about the previous comment by Elizabeth’s father.  She reached out to hold each of Elizabeth’s hands in her own, “That is very exciting, madam, that I could have just met you today only to find out that we are related!”

“Indeed it is!” Elizabeth spoke happily as she laughed at Adrienne’s childish joy. “Though I suppose it is not too surprising. Old Philadelphians may complain about Old Virginians, but we have all found a way to get into each society’s most prominent families.” She turned to face the rest of the hall, eyes scanning portraits until they landed on a pair of paintings, each of a young man in a red and blue military coat.  She walked to them gladly, Adrienne trailing behind her.

“Oh!” Adrienne exclaimed as she realized who the two twin paintings that hung from the walls were. “Those were gifts from Mrs. Mary Ball Washington.  The one on top is Uncle George when he was a Colonel in the British-American Army during the French-Indian war.” She pointed up to it, “And the one below it is his elder brother, Lawrence Washington, a Major in His Majesty’s Army.  I was engaged to him for a short period between the deaths of my sister, Anne, and his own.”

“His elder brother?” the woman asked, astounded, “But the general is approaching fifty years of age if I am correct!”

“Yes,” Adrienne laughed, “There would have been quite the age gap between us.”

“Would a child even be possible in such a match?” Mrs. Tallmadge asked as they continued to walk along, turning from the hall and down a separate set of marble stairs with even mural-sized portraits lining the walls.

“Yes,” Adrienne replied, “But I would have been married far younger.  With Lieutenant Colonel Laurens, I was given the luxury of time, and I am very grateful for it.”

The women descended the stairs, and Adrienne ushered her out the door underneath the staircase that led out to the gardens. “I must collect Martha.  We will return to the party shortly,” she assured Elizabeth, “I have already been absent for too long.  It is unbecoming of a hostess to abandon her guests in such a manner.”

Elizabeth reached out, grabbing Adrienne’s elbow as she turned away from her, causing Adrienne to look back at her as she stood in the doorway. “If you ever should find yourself in need of anything, please, let me know,” she smiled softly, letting her hand fall back to her side.  There was a knowing gleam in her eye, “I have a way of getting things done.”

Adrienne smiled brightly back at her, laughing happily at her statement, then turned around entirely and disappeared down the sunny corridor.

[bowerbirdboy]

A Complete Character Analysis of Sgt. Anacostia Quartermaine

Anacostia Quartermaine. She’s been a giant question mark since day one but is slowly starting to reveal her true intentions. However, my curiosity still remains about her treatment of Raelle and whether or not it’s special. I rewatched all of the episodes with a special focus on her and here’s what I’ve managed to find. This is a long one, I’m sorry. There’s a whole lot to it, I understand if you have to tap out halfway through or skip to the conclusion, but I’d like to think it’s a thorough compilation of everything Anacostia has shown through her actions, words, and body language. 

Intro to Anacostia’s Character:

Anacostia was raised as a fosterling, a military child with no parents, and was looked after by Alder. This caused a strong bond to form between the two of them and made Anacostia the perfect right hand woman. As no-nonsense and professional as she likes to appear, we’ve seen some moments (unrelated to soldiers and training, I’ll get into those later) of humanity from her. 

One of the best examples is when the fosterlings come to visit and she can’t help but smile. I think it’s clear that she enjoyed her upbringing and they give her both a nostalgic joy and excitement for the future. 

We also see her reminiscing about Beltane with Berryessa, another hint that she remembers her childhood fondly. 

She even has her hair down, completely freed from her strict drill sergeant duties.

Anacostia and Punishment:

The first time we see her have a one on one interaction is with Raelle, when she finds out about her first demerit. Immediately we see the epitome of the “I’m not mad, just disappointed” look. 

She wipes away the demerit first thing without bothering to ask questions about it or punish Raelle. We only see her begin to get angry when Raelle says “I’m sorry” and she snaps back “are you?”. Instead of being angry that she broke the rules, Anacostia seems upset that Raelle doesn’t care about training or putting in effort to improve her work. She almost starts to yell when talking about how Raelle’s actions negatively impact those around her but takes a breath and calms down. Instead, she sits down next to Raelle which makes the scene feel much more like a pep talk from a big sister than a lecture from a superior officer. 

She brings herself down to Raelle’s level and softens her tone, not wanting to seem too much like an authority figure. Keep this in mind, it’s important for later.

She also personally hand delivers Raelle’s mail from her dad, something I would presume is way above her pay grade. 

Then we see strike number two after Raelle uses Salva with Scylla. Anacostia’s main priority is making sure Raelle gets medical attention (“We need to get you both to the infirmary”). While both girls took the Salva, Scylla has two officers standing guard by her bed and Raelle has none.

I don’t know if this is protocol, but it does seem like a special case. And seeing as how Anacostia dismisses both soldiers with a simple flick of her head, we can presume she gave them the guard duty in the first place.

Anacostia makes sure the guards are gone before threatening Scylla, perhaps because what she’s about to do isn’t quite up to code. 

From the daily ranking list we know it is possible to be punished for improper treatment of subordinates, or lower ranking soldiers. 

When her threats don’t seem to make an impact and Scylla is still making eyes at Raelle, Anacostia decides to get her point across by bringing Scylla to the brink of death. That might qualify as an abuse of power. 

There’s no regret on her face either, she seems to be enjoying making her point.

In this moment I don’t believe Anacostia knew Scylla was Spree, but when Raelle’s progress was in danger she wasn’t afraid to use fear as a tactic to stop it (“Stay away from her. Far away. As if your life depended on it”). But she only punishes Scylla, not Raelle. 

We see Raelle get in trouble again, this time for sleeping during training. Anacostia kicks Raelle’s foot out from under her to wake her up, to date the most physical punishment we’ve seen Raelle receive from her. Meanwhile, Abigail gets the brunt of Raelle’s failure when Anacostia forces her to hold out a tricky seed for a dangerous amount of time. 

She is unconcerned, even though Abigail is clearly risking her voice and she was the one who told the girls “It is imperative that the entirety of your vocal apparatus... must remain functional and sound producing at all times. Inability to produce sound can leave a soldier powerless.”

This could be a psychological punishment, to get the message across to Raelle that her failures directly harm her team. Raelle cares more about others than herself (even if it was before her and Abigail bonded), so maybe Anacostia knew that it would make Raelle feel guilty. But I think it’s possible she wanted to spare Raelle while still making an example of mistake, so the other girls didn’t get the wrong idea. 

Anacostia and Training: 

We first see this in episode one, when Raelle storms in to confront Abigail. The other officers are concerned and want to break it up immediately, but Anacostia is interested in seeing the extent of what she can/will do.

She lets the storm rage for about as long as it can without becoming harmful to all those in the nearby vicinity and I think she may have also hoped that Raelle would wriggle out of Abigail’s chokehold. When she inevitably doesn’t, Anacostia grabs Abigail and a random official grabs Raelle. That may have been a subtle hint that Anacostia wanted to ensure Raelle’s safety, only trusting herself to remove Abigail in time. 

Anacostia has a strange focus on Raelle in training. This may just be because the Bellweather Unit has the main characters and it makes sense for them to always be the focal point, but I’ll include it anyway. 

Even after rebelling and expressing disinterest in being there, Raelle is trusted with being the leader of the pyramid in a training exercise. 

While in a unit vocal lesson, Anacostia speaks directly to Raelle by saying “Very good Private Collar, that seed is a beast to master. Maintain it.” So was Raelle specifically given harder work than the others? Or was Anacostia only focusing on her?

Tally and Abigail argue back and forth about their moms, but it is only when Raelle says “how about we cool it on the mom talk” that Anacostia takes notice of the unit and encourages them to “use what’ve you got ladies”. They then proceed to produce a strong wind strike and we hear rare words of praise (“Best wind strike all day”). 

Anacostia and Praise: 

That leads me rather nicely into my next little segment, Anacostia’s praise of Raelle. 

When Raelle wakes up in the infirmary after trying to save Porter, Anacostia’s first words are another comment about her wellbeing (“You could’ve died”).

She looks angry but this time Raelle hadn’t done anything wrong. It seems as if Anacostia was worried about Raelle and covered it up with a layer of anger for risking her health without a second thought.

For the second time we see Anacostia sit down next to her, lowering herself to an equal level so it feels like a friendly conversation rather than a conversation with her drill sergeant.

We hear her praise Raelle, saying “We are all incredibly proud of you, that kind of bravery can’t be taught.” While not the first time Anacostia has complimented Raelle, it is a very vulnerable moment where she talks specifically about her character rather than her skills. It mirrors the first demerit scene and shows Raelle’s growth and Anacostia’s investment in it. 

But more importantly, Raelle doesn’t recognize the special treatment she is given. Anacostia is stern and she punishes more than she praises, so you would think Raelle may have started to notice. But in episode five we get two quotes that show she doesn’t.

“Yeah even Anacostia was impressed with our wind strikes.”

When have clearly seen several examples of Anacostia being impressed by their work, including the vocal lesson in the first episode and the wind strike. 

“There’s no way she said that.”

When Scylla tells Raelle that Anacostia praised her skills, which we saw happen, Raelle cannot believe it. We’ve seen moments of Anacostia pushing Raelle and complimenting her skills, but Raelle doesn’t see past her her demanding exterior yet.  

Perhaps Raelle thinks the bad moments outweigh the good, but when you see how Anacostia treats other soldiers it becomes clear how different she is with Raelle.  

Anacostia and Other Soldiers (mainly Tally): 

After the swimming pool Spree attack, everyone is a little shaken up. Particularly a woman named Simms, who can’t even produce sound because she’s crying so much. 

“Simms, buck up. You are in the United States Army, will you cry every time the Spree attack?” She refuses to show any weakness in the moment because she wants to show her soldiers what strength looks like. 

We do eventually see that Anacostia is also shaken up by the attacks and the reactions of her girls, a softer side she doesn’t often show. 

She is clearly struggling as well but wants to train the weakness out the soldiers, to keep them safe. She waits for them to leave before breaking down slightly.

However, this is entirely different from how she handles Raelle’s Scylla meltdown. When Raelle is crying and screaming about the loss of Scylla, she tries not to react. Just like Simms’ feeling of fear and sadness, grief is a common occurrence in war that they need to learn how to deal with.

She maintains eye contact and betrays no emotion. Yet.

Even though Raelle is demanding that Anacostia do her job better and is accusing of her sabotaging the search (which she was but... still), Anacostia holds her ground. But when Raelle starts yelling (“You’re acting like I’m crazy, I’m not crazy”), something softens in her eyes.

I believe here she’s realizing just how much Scylla meant to Raelle and she does not want to see Raelle breakdown like this. She even does a hard swallow, as if forcing down some emotion trying to bubble to the surface. There is a sympathy in her eyes that isn’t in the first picture or her confrontation with Simms. 

The harshest we’ve seen Anacostia act is towards Tally. Tally is bubbly and naive and still a little scared, all traits Anacostia wants to train out of her. While Raelle’s rebellion and disinterest seem like they should also deserve poor treatment, Anacostia appears to save all of her “harsh life lessons” for Tally. 

In episode two, Anacostia singles Tally out and asks her to stab her in the eye, knowing that she would falter and fail. 

The look here is cold and expectant. She knows Tally is terrified and won’t be able to do it, but she’s going make Tally feel the full extent of her failure. 

When Tally falls, Anacostia barely looks at her before asking someone else to pick up her slack. She knew Tally wouldn’t be able to complete the task and wanted to teach her a cruel reality about war. 

Then when Tally find her at the wedding, pale and shaking, to tell Anacostia about the Spree balloon, Anacostia snaps “what is it?” as her first response. While typically we see her holding back her anger and annoyance, Anacostia makes no attempt to hide how she feels about this inconvenience.

And if the message wasn’t clear before, when Tally grips onto her arm Anacostia yanks it away rather unceremoniously.

In episode six when Tally tracks her down to follow up about Scylla, Anacostia doesn’t even bother turning around to acknowledge that someone is talking to her. 

She keeps her eyes and head tilted away from Tally, barely even acknowledging that they’re having a conversation. One could wave this away as her trying to keep the secret of Scylla’s location if not for the previous examples of her behavior towards Tally. 

Anacostia speaks in short sentences, attempting to dismiss Tally as quickly as possible and only addresses her directly when she wants to threaten her to keep her mouth shut. 

Anacostia and Scylla:

This frame about sums up Anacostia’s role in Scylla and Raelle’s relationship and I believe it’s quite purposeful. 

She’s standing between them, a constant obstacle. Not only directly, when she threatens Scylla and when she kidnaps her but also what she represents. She wants Raelle to be a good soldier, to follow the life the military has laid out for her. Scylla wants her to see that there’s more to life than that and wants to get away from the military.

After she walks over, Raelle opens her mouth to speak but Anacostia talks over her and directly to Scylla (“You’re not supposed to be here”). It’s as if she’s trying to leave Raelle out of it, once again protecting her as if she’s a child. 

As soon as Raelle calls Scylla her girlfriend, Anacostia’s glare shifts to Scylla. Throughout the Tally distraction, Anacostia watches her carefully. 

There’s too much to screen shot here, so if you want to follow along, here you go. In her and Scylla’s one on one chat I think here you can see Anacostia’s thinly veiled affection for Raelle and how defensive she is of her, almost like an aunt or mother-figure. She says “you’ve taken advantage of a new recruit” in a tone much angrier than if she really was just a “new recruit”. It seems to be a deliberate choice of words to emotionally distance herself from Raelle in this situation. When Scylla takes credit for some of Raelle’s newfound success in training, Anacostia becomes even more mad and says “Raelle doesn’t need you, she has her own gifts. I suggest you end it sooner than later or I will make life very difficult for you, Ramshorn.” Scylla responds sarcastically and Anacostia responds with a slight head shake as if to say Scylla has no idea who she’s messing with. 

Now last but not least, we have the big bombshell at the end where Anacostia is revealed to be torturing Scylla. 

And I think the lighting says it all, this is a true dark side to Anacostia that we haven’t seen before. Almost completely unlit, leaving a shadowy portrait gives her the scene an eerie feeling and  

Her interrogation starts with “how did you plan the wedding attack?”, meaning she believes Scylla was the force behind the Bellweather death(s) and all of the destruction it caused. The real question is would Anacostia be interrogating her  like this if she didn’t think she was a mass murderer?

Conclusion: 

Anacostia’s treatment of other soldiers is not bad (except for SELECT moments with Tally and Scylla). She is a drill sergeant training them for war, she needs to be tough to keep them alive. It’s not even close to Izadora slitting a girl’s throat in the promo for next week. However she unquestionably gives Raelle tough love, almost as if she’s watching over her. It’s possible Raelle reminds her of a younger her, or Anacostia knew her mom, or she somehow knows Raelle’s strength and is supposed to monitor her. But you can definitely see that she handles Raelle differently from other soldiers and Anacostia has personal interest in her advancement.

I think it also shows that Anacostia will be the first to want to stop torturing Scylla. She really doesn’t seem to be cold or cruel, only when something or someone she cares about is directly affected. When she finds out that Scylla abandoned the Spree for Raelle, I believe Anacostia will no longer want to harm her.

[cringeyvanillamilk]

My Fuegoleon Headcanons

Since I love Fuegoleon so much, I wanted to make a post about him and thought, ‘Ohh, how about headcanons??’. And so here we are~! I have a few headcanons in mind so I’m just gonna go off lmao.

Despite how thoughtful and strong his sense of justice is, he can be pretty ignorant at times. As someone of royal blood, I’m sure he knows he’s more privileged than other people but has his moments where he just forgets that fact. For example, in one of the filler episodes in the anime, Fuegoleon had an apathetic reaction to Jack and Yami complaining about the pay cut (Both are commoners). Sure they had to do it in order to pay for the damage the kingdom had undergo, but it would’ve been nice if he showed at least some sympathy for them. It kind of shows that even someone as understanding as him can’t truly understand the struggles of someone of lower status. I feel like he also had other moments in his life where he forgets that other people aren’t as privileged as him. This mostly happens during his younger years.

Fuegoleon isn’t one to consistently follow skin care routines like someone he knows (Nozel), but does ritually follow hair care routines. Fuegoleon takes pride in his hair and so he makes sure to use the best hair oil to keep it healthy and clean. I feel like you’ll have to be very close to him in order to freely touch his hair. And If you do get to touch his hair, you’ll realize how smooth and soft it is despite how much it contrasts with his personality and image. He’s also very sensitive about his hair. Like one time during his childhood, Mereoleona cut his hair as a prank and he got so mad that he wouldn’t talk to her for weeks. Sister Theresa at the time had to convince Fuegoleon to forgive Mereoleona but he still holds that grudge against her until this very day. Don’t mess with his hair, ever.

Fuegoleon has a soft spot for plushies. LISTEN- I’m not being biased because I made a comic about it. I honestly believe out of the three fiery Vermillions, he’s the most softest of them all. I feel like he hadn’t had the opportunity to act like an actual kid during his childhood which means that there’s a part of him that’s... unfulfilled... unsatisfied... So how does he solve this issue? By secretly buying soft plushies for him to cuddle in bed. Only his family and closest friend/rival knows this secret. Everyone knows that if anyone else finds out about this secret, it’ll permanently hurt his pride and so they go through the trouble of placing a plushie in a box and hiding it inside his room where no one can find it. Once Fuegoleon sees a pile of boxes hidden inside his closet, he knows and gets really happy.

I picture Fuegoleon as a ‘wait until marriage’ kind of guy. He finds the act of sex to be too intimate to be easily given away to just anyone. He wants to give his virginity to someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with. I feel like he’d be great at every aspect of romance, but ask him about sex and he’d be hella clueless.

Fuegoleon shows his love mostly through actions (physical affection, giving gifts, etc.), but loves it when he receives affection through words. Continuously compliment him and his pride is going to get bigger and bigger. He also loves being doted upon and shown off to others (He’s a leo so he loves the attention lmao). Like do what Will Smith is doing down here and he’ll act like what you’re doing is inappropriate in a public setting but on the inside he’s jumping with joy. He eats that shit up.

Loves cuddling something in his sleep. If you happen to be right next to him when he sleeps, he’ll trap your body and use you as a pillow. You’d think it’s really cute at first until you feel his biceps crushing your body. He’s a heavy sleeper too so you’ll have to get other people to help you escape his grip (if you can).

This guy also snores... LOUDLY. Either you get used to it or move to another room. He’s going to be really sad but understanding if you choose to move to another room. Ends up sneaking into your room to cuddle with you and sleep. You won’t notice his presence in bed until you hear his loud snore. You can never escape it. 

Fuegoleon stays up pretty late but still wakes up early in the morning. Probably has 4 hours of sleep every day. Frequently drinks coffee to give him energy because of this. Knows damn well that what he’s doing is unhealthy but does it anyway. Don’t tell Leopold.

If you get him any gift that is lion theme, he’ll love you forever. Please fuel his lion aesthetic. Especially if it’s a lion plushie.

There’s a Fueogleon fanclub in each realm. Especially in the commoner realm. He’s just that popular with the people. Fuegoleon is unaware of this fanclub but would definitely be flattered if he found out. Would randomly visit these fanclubs due to curiosity. Everyone d i e s.  

In the modern world, Fuegoleon would love listening to rock or hip hop music. He generally like music that pumps his blood up. Especially if he’s working out.

In the modern au, Fuegoleon would also love inspirational movies. I can see Rocky being his favorite movie of all times.

Fuegoleon is bisexual. I feel like he’d be open to date either genders. Can be very wary of dating the same sex because he’s expected to produce a heir for the family. If he does date a male s/o and they continue to support and love him, he’d feel like he can overcome anything and remain happy with them. They’ll have to be by his side and continuously give him positive affirmation as well as understanding. 

[pxrxllel]

inner child trauma (11/12/20)

Today was filled with epiphanies, and I’m a mix of excited, at peace, and anxious about all the answers they’re providing.

Yesterday I watched a webinar on self-love and self-sabotaging in the context of romantic relationships, and here were some of the key points:

Who did you crave love and approval from the most as a child?

Your relationship with your parents and your needs being met/unmet subconsciously create emotional patterns that you take into your adult relationships. Therefore, your relationships are a reflection of how your needs were met by your parents.

When you have a wounded inner child, you are fixated on ensuring the outcome that you expect. The energy you take into the relationship is based on fear and control.

You’re trying to protect your wounded Inner Child by controlling the outcome, to avoid being hurt again.

I’ve taken the attachment styles quiz and for the most part, I come out as being anxious. I know I definitely tend to take on the role of the mother/therapist/fixer upper in my relationships (which has usually ended up with me becoming avoidant after a while due to resentment), but I’ve also had some where I didn’t feel the need to and I became clingy instead. So maybe that’s me yoyo-ing between the two, which I think the webinar described as being disorganised. 

I’m keenly aware that I have a rich history of needing external validation, because approval was never received from my parents. I was never emotionally applauded for anything I did - in fact, my parents nitpicked me to the point where I was made to feel innately wrong. It’s hard to not be angry about it, but it’s even worse to hold that against them because it won’t help me make progress. A large part of the validation was being called fat and ugly, which may be why I’ve been so reliant on compliments about my appearance all throughout my life, and even still since I’ve become objectively attractive. My father and some extended family always framed it as not being pretty enough to attract boys, which I’ve previously established as the key reason why I clung onto compliments and relationships and used sexual attention from men as a metric for self-worth. I’m just also starting to realise that perhaps it’s why I took sexual rejection from my previous relationship so personally - I was still unconvinced that he was attracted to me and the rejection only confirmed that I wasn’t desirable in that way (or that’s how my mind attributed it anyway). 

I think I made that realisation about my dependence on external validation in 2018/19. Since then, I’ve actively worked to disempower that, and I’ve largely been successful. I hardly ever use my appearance or compliments as a success metric anymore. I don’t fish for compliments or check for likes half as much as I used to. And it’s sort of been a self-fulfilling prophecy; the less I cared, the more they came and I genuinely feel OK about myself. I believe people now when they say nice things about me.

The point about fear and control is really interesting to me because looking back, I definitely was trying to be the ‘perfect’ girlfriend and looked for verbal validation (in the form of compliments, how much it seemed like he was into me) that I was doing a good job. I used to be so sensitive to any changes in the temperature of the relationship, and would melt down easily and take it personally if his demeanour cooled down even in the slightest. When I felt him slipping, I would hastily try to overcompensate out of fear for losing him, which I now know is a recipe for backfire. It’s also interesting because I’ve realised that I’m modelling ‘perfect girlfriend’ after my mother. My mother is a voice of reason/wisdom, emotional support cushion, physical support cushion, service-oriented, problem solver, domestic goddess, and all around superstar. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with those things, and not necessarily wrong for me to aspire to those things, but maybe it’s wrong for me to uphold that as the be all and end all of girlfriend material and then get annoyed when it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. 

Speaking of mirroring, it’s really interesting how accurate it is... a bit too much that it’s creepy. I never heeded it much before, and especially not when my therapist brought it up as something to flag, but I’ve come to the realisation that mine and Jarek’s relationship almost exactly mirrors my parents’ marriage. The long distance thing, and the fact that I feel like my parents aren’t each other’s soulmates. They care about each other a lot obviously, but I feel like my mom relies on my dad for practical reasons (kids and money - she’s much more comfortable playing the role of a mother than a wife) and my dad relies on her for emotional support and all the reasons listed above. Don’t get me wrong, they clearly enjoy each other’s company and get along, but I don’t think they have the X factor that I observe in other couples and what I think I look for. They don’t really have the natural, seamless, deep, almost magical affinity that I’ve been so lucky to experience a handful of times in my life. They don’t naturally understand each other. I think perhaps pragmatic marriages are more common or accepted in Asian cultures and worldviews, but for those of us that grew up in Western cultures, we see the romanticised version of these things and can’t help but want for more. It’s also interesting because I’ve always wondered what it would have been like if my parents weren’t in a long distance marriage/what it’ll be like when they retire and move in together. I always thought that maybe they would get sick of each other and argue more, but I can’t say for sure (plus, they’ve mellowed out a lot as they’ve aged). 

This relates to me and Jarek because I feel like our dynamic is really similar. I care about him so deeply and the way that it manifests is that I treat him the same way my mom treats my dad. I’m definitely more of a mom/therapist to him than I’d like to be - I’m sick of taking on the role of the fixer, although I think it’s neat to help people become self-aware of certain things or issues affecting them, I don’t really want to be the one holding their hand through their journey. And I think maybe the reason why I’m so stubborn about this relationship is that he represents what my dad is to my mom: Material security, stability, a comfortable life, America, all the boxes ticked. Even if he doesn’t understand me, and even if he doesn’t absolutely light me on fire, I’ve been accepting of it because I see how it works with my parents. And with them I know it can work, if I stay committed to the path. And I’ll be rewarded with my needs for security and safety and permanence met, which were not present for me emotionally as child - see how I’ve looped back to the beginning of this piece? And that’s also why I guess I feel so stable in this relationship: I know it well, I know how it goes and how it can end up, and I’m not grasping at fear or control to try to maintain the outcome because I already know what the outcome is. 

Jarek himself has a lot of childhood trauma too and his level of anxious attachment is far more severe than mine (I think I’m secure in some ways, too, esp ever since I actively worked on myself). His parents have a loveless marriage and he’s been emotionally neglected and felt unsafe in his family his whole life, so that’s something for him to work on and I honestly am not sure if we would be able to have a functional relationship if we were both still stuck in our ways.

I really truly think that because of this fixing issue I have, deep down I believe that until that’s cured, I can only be loved at arm’s length. Because if I get too close, I become too suffocating and overwhelming to be around because my fear kicks in and I start becoming controlling. So it would make sense then that the relationships I get tired of are the long distance ones and then everyone I do get (properly) close to in real life are the people I scare away with my intensity. This pattern makes total sense when taken into consideration with my childhood and how my parents are with each other. 

I would like to ask my mom these questions:

Do you think you and dad understand each other?

Why do you love him?

How do you think your marriage would be different if you weren’t long distance?

Have you ever wanted more from the marriage?

I’m quite proud of myself for coming to these conclusions without therapy, and I have a strong gut feeling I’m not wrong with any of these as it makes complete logical sense. And while it’s so good to have some clarity, context, explanations, and answers about all this, it doesn’t necessarily inform my next steps (although it can provide a guide). Knowing about these subconscious patterns and my emotional makeup means I can check myself according to my personal goals, but it doesn’t provide a template for my decision-making. I think that’s something I need to chew on more, as to where to go from here. I still need to figure out what I really want and what’s best for me and will make me happy. It’s hard because I don’t have a healthy relationship to look at and view as a model, so I don’t know what it should be like apart from relying on my gut and perceptions.

However, I accept that although the answers may be not what I want and I may have to make some tough decisions, it’s ultimately the right thing to do for my own wellbeing and happiness, and that of everyone else as well.

[talesofealdancynedom]

Feon Seabryd in fairy robes, with storm staph.

Tale 19: Meriam Craweleoth: Mage Queen of The Grand West (chapter 4.1 -  Time Stands Still: Feon 4/10) part 4. Stories of Old

Maps

none

In spring, Meriam received a letter from the Northlands. The lord of Isfisceard, caught word of Meriam and her men wandering in and out of Celticia, to speak with Helrem in Algonquia. With Francia being hostile towards all three lands, Meriam had trespassed into Celticia to avoid death. However, The Northlands of Celticia had tightened its boarders, and was sending rangers and setting up outposts; The land was strained from battles from both Algonquia and Francia. The lord requested Meriam’s presence, to deal with a specific matter, in exchange for alliance with Anglia. Meriam was eager to accept, and make another ally at Francia’s boarders; and not get punished for trespassing. The courts would not let her leave however. They had a matter of special importance for her as well. Meriam was carrying their only heir to the throne, after Eatheltwein, making her even more valuable. They had forgotten Meriam didn’t take kindly to being treated like a fragile tool. She was being a royal brood mare for them against her wishes, and they still weren’t satisfied. Meriam left with her five loyal men, a doctor, and the Celtician lord’s letter on her pillow for the king to find.

           Celticia was temperate and wet. It smelled of rain, and upon its odd rock formation and cliffs, was the hum of the soothing low pressure. The scent of the sea embraced them, as Meriam and her party approached the docks. Crossing up the north isles was the last leg of the journey. Meriam was pampered by everyone; to her appreciation and disgust. It almost tarnished the wondrous experience of the Northland kingdom. The island of Isfisceard, was radiant. It was strewn with storm wildings, rain nymphs, ridge back drakes, hydra, and more. The most intriguing and enchanting things, aside from the beaches, sea walls, ferns and sequoia, was the voices that welled up from the depths; Fish children. There are no mermaids, sirens or selkies in Anglia, but there are many in Celticia. For there are many mariners and fishers, of whom a sixth would gladly wed a questionable, thirsty, hungry, and irresistible, maidens of the sea. While Meriam’s men were bewitched by lust, Meriam was overcome with awe and wonder. As a seer, her heart was a flutter with all fey before her. Meriam, as a mage, was drawn to magic. Thus, it was more fascination than lust, that seduced her to get a closer look. Not that the Fish King’s children weren’t to Meriam’s liking as well. As they docked at their destination village, the captain said they were lucky Anglian folk don’t sing. Cheerful tunes tend to attract less lovely daughters from the deep.

           Eager for a proper sleep, Meriam went directly to the lord’s house. But he would not let her rest; he held both her hands and bowed.

“Greeting Mage Queen Meriam. I am honoured you have accepted my invitation. I can tell you are weary, but a lady as precious and fine as you, needs to be kept safe; your men will remain with me, while you retire with Lady Feon Seabryd.” The lord smiled. His accent was both chipper and confusing. Like a thick Irish dialect. Meriam stepped back; what threat would be anticipated that would require her to sleep in a lighthouse, while her trusted knights became drunk lustful decoys.

“I am here to settle my debt, and forge alliances. Tell me your bargain; I am most short these days.” Meriam snapped. Then the lord, still bowing, noticed she was with child, and looked up at her grimace. The lord shivered in fear. Her khol, drawn like a hawk’s face, emphasizing her yellow eyes.

“My apologies your majesty. Let us make haste in signing the papers. You and your men must hear why I am so desperate to protect you, and improve our lands relations.” He said, leading them into a circular hall decorated in tapestries of fish fey and knots. The greens, teal, blues and bronzes complimenting the elaborately carved wooden stools and table.

“Sit, sit.” The lord prompted. Meriam’s men looked calmer then usual; they could handle a court room, after riding dragons. Magic, and their queen’s missions to make peace, was no longer confusing or dramatic.

“Alright, were all settled down now. So, what I need from this alliance, is an army to help this town. A messenger came from the east with a warning: In one season’s time, we will have the army of the Far North at our wall. Meanwhile, Francia is stalled by our land’s rangers and fey. Algonquia is slowly advancing, and occupying Celticia; We are weak. They come to finish their take over, by coming to Isfisceard for our lands only mage; the aforementioned Lady Feon. She sing’s storms and spells, and keeps balance between us and the magic of the sea. Each kingdom has a mage these days, and killing each other’s mages seems to be a common political strategy.” The lord explained.

“You want an army to protect your nations mage?” a knight asked.

“Aye. She is a kind charmer, with four beautiful children. Isfisceard would not be the same without her. But more then her death, I fear the mages of Algonquia. For the reason they are immune to our soldiers and fey, is because their prince and princess, the nephew and niece of the king, are both mages. Edmond Monabellen: The Wolf Prince of The North. He has walked through arrows, and cut cities in half. Him and his siter can control fey in battle, and their men and women are fearless in war. He is a paladin clad in violet and gold, with the eyes of a wolf, and riding his bear familiar. His sister, Luthid Geagwulf, is a witch that works from the camps, to manipulate the battle field. Their army has yet to lose a warrior. If they come for Feon, they will kill all of Celticia’s remaining armies, and take us before Francia does.” The Lord rambled. “I hear your power over time is great Meriam Craweleoth; between you and your kingdoms cavalry, I believe prince Edmond can be stopped. The Northland’s may be in your favour against Francia, if their wolf prince is defeated.” He concluded.

Meriam absorbed the information. Helrem had said nothing about the paladin prince in the Algonquian courts. Wolf kingdom mages, who could be advocating for magic, were being used like pawns in war. This is not how magic is supposed to be used. Their king is a coward for sending his only heir into battle, and a disappointment for abusing magic. Or worse, Edmond and Luthid were skirting their natures out of familial or patriotic obligation, and were in so deep, they can not escape war, despite their better judgment. If Meriam could resolve this, everyone would win.

“I agree to your terms. We will see who is willing to come to your aid by mid harvest. Hopefully my magic will prevent us from being tardy. May I rest now? Lord of Isfisceard?” Meriam said, signing the papers.

“Yes, you may; Feon will be waiting by the beach. There is a white stone of quartz she likes to sing from. Can’t miss it.”

           Merriam approached the fogged bay, that echoed of song, along with a closer voice. Upon a random tall stone of white quarts, was a freckled woman in teal fish kingdom fairy robes, holding a wooden staff set with a large emerald. Her long hair was red as blood, and her eyes like blue pine. She sang sweetly into the water, and its flat surface sang back. Her colours were unnatural; as if changed by magic from her going dark from tragedy. She looked like she was having so much fun, that she didn’t notice Merriam watching.

“Are you Feon Seabryd? I am Queen Meriam of Anglia; your lord said I was to stay with you and your family for safety.” Meriam said.

“Aye. Wait till you meet my family-” Feon said, gazing at Meriam. She looked like a ghost dressed in her black feather and crushed velvet fairy robes. “You’re going to have a baby! That’s so exciting! I know just the way to treat you; as a mother myself!” Feon chimed. She took Meriam’s hand and gently led her to a house at the bottom of a light tower, that was carved into the sea wall of the bay.

“I hate children. I don’t want to have a baby; that could kill a woman.”

“I love my children! All four of them! They were a pain, but they are like precious jewels. I smile everyday when I see them. Speaking of children, I have a son who is also a mage, though he don’t know it yet. Lyra is his name; a charmer just like me. Possibly even a storm breaker like me too! I have many notes about mages, and magic workings. You are a seer, right? Maybe reading or copying them would be restful for you?” Feon suggested. With magic on the table, Merriam was warming up to the idea of being in a peasant’s bungalow, surrounded by wild children. The only child she ever liked was Eatheltwein; and she was not responsible for his care.

           In the cabin, Feon had her children bring her and Meriam food to study. Feon was excited to pick the brain of a seer, and Meriam was happy to finally be sitting. Feon had many books and journals in her room; it was crowded in a hurricane of organized chaos, around the two beds she shared with her husband and children. Meriam was brought back to her childhood in Francia, sharing a bed with her friend Felin.

“What type of mage are you?” Feon asked, placing a teal leather journal on the table. “For example, I am a Storm breaker; we summon and control weather when magic moves through us, from being really happy. But if we don’t have a storm staph, we will lose control and go gray dark; causing natural disasters. I got my storm staph sent to me from a warlock in Sinonia, of the Grand East, who is also a storm breaker. In fact, the lad sent me many, requesting I place them in the Fish Kingdom in the shadow veil, because The Fish Gate is down the cliff of the lighthouse…” Feon said, handing the journal to Meriam and showing off her wood and emerald staph. Meriam examined it carefully, it was wonderfully crafted. She wondered how the parcel arrived through Francia, and then recalled that they took postage seriously there; you could mail one hundred mice to a foreign land and no one would stop you. A good package, is a delivered package. Feon knocked on the table Infront of Meriam to get her attention.

“Oh sorry, you reminded me of something… I guess I’m a Memoirium de Morte; a mage who can manipulate time. I didn’t realize we had types.” Meriam laughed, melting into the reclined chair covered in plaids.

“Do share! I want to complete that teal compodium, with details about all the mages for our ancestors!”

“Why do you write texts instead of poetry? I thought you were a charmer?”

“I am. But I am also a mother and avid hobbyist. Oh, thank you Lyra” Feon said, taking the kettle and pouring tea. An older boy with ginger hair and green eyes brought it. His long-curled hair was twisted in various strands and weaved into a knot; and he seemed to almost glow with joy while he hummed.

“Ah, one of your children. The Lyra of which you mentioned…” Meriam said.

“Aye, your majesty. I hope you enjoy the tea!” Lyra bowed before dashing off. Meriam gave a cough and returned her attention to Feon.

“You hate children? Why?”

“Hate is a strong word. I prefer the phrase: ‘I am opposed to.’ As too why, maybe it’s I don’t want a dependant human to keep me away from my adventures, or worry me. Or perhaps I don’t wish to put my life at risk to appease a court of men. The reason is irrelevant, and it is no one’s business what I choose to do with my life and body.” Meriam snarled, tossing back the staph. “Give me some of your journals to copy for my records, and tell me what you want to know about my abilities; or more why I don’t just use them to resurrect people or manipulate their memories.”

“I’m sorry. Just don’t understand is all. But as for your special magic, the question in these times isn’t why you don’t use your powers, but why Anglia doesn’t make you.” Feon said.

NEXT--->

<---PREVIOUS

[rottmntrulesall]

A Serving of Tea With a Side of Feelings

Hiroki always loved the pretend tea ceremonies she and Yosh- Splinter used to do back in their childhood. It was one of the very few good memories they had. And introducing her nephew to this practice was even more exciting.

Mikey was rocking slightly as he sat on the floor, clearly excited. Splinter, meanwhile was gathering the supplies and items needed for the ceremony.

"Back in historical times, Michelangelo, tea ceremonies were a ceremonial way of preparing and drinking green tea typically in a traditional tearoom with tatami floor." Hiroki chirped happily, "Beyond just serving and receiving tea, one of the main purposes of the tea ceremony is for the guests to enjoy the hospitality of the host in an atmosphere distinct from the fast pace of everyday life. The ceremony itself was called (茶道, sadō or chadō, "the way of tea" or 茶の湯, chanoyu),' she stated writing out the symbol so her reptilian nephew would have a better grasp of what she meant. "Nowadays, the tea ceremony is practiced as a hobby, and there are places where tourists can experience it, as well."

"That all sounds so nice," Mikey smiled, nodding a bit at her explanation. If tea ceremonies were just as much about relaxing and being social as they were about making and drinking tea, it was no wonder so many people enjoyed them. Watching his aunt carefully as she wrote out the symbol, he tried to study her brush strokes so he could try and write it out himself later. "I'm really gonna have to learn more Japanese," he told her, "the way you guys write is just so pretty-" he stopped, wincing a bit at how childish he probably sounded, hoping it didn't sound like he was mocking his aunt's native language. 

"Aw, Thank you! It takes practice but it's very much worth it in the end! You're an artist, so I know you'll catch on to it fast!" Hiroki smiled. It was so nice to see the younger generation get in touch with their roots. Mikey smiled again, beaming at the compliment. He then heard his father chuckle as he set a plate down in front of them. "Another good thing about tea ceremonies? The tasty cakes you get to eat with them!" Splinter grinned, "Unfortunately, we don't have traditional tea cakes, but I figured cut up snack cakes would work just as well." 

"It's still lovely. Reminds me of the many ceremonies we had as children." Hiroki sighed. Yosh-Splinter was the only one who was willing to participate in them with her. Saki thought her ceremonies were "Stupid, pointless nonsense' and she should be more focused on training. Nori was too much of a tomboy for it. Kenji just found them kind of boring, but he was nice about it at least. Mei would rather talk about summoning dead things. *shudder*

Splinter's smile softened. "I remember those as well... They were always pretty fun, I'm not sure why no one else enjoyed them. Who could say no to a good cup of tea and some cake? Though, spending time with my little sister was always nice too."

"Well, it's their loss. They probably would've spoiled the fun anyway. You were always the fun one, Yosh-Splinter. Hikari...he tried. But, it just wasn't his cup of tea....pun sort of intended." Mikey chuckled at his aunt's joke. "Well, I'm sure it'll be my cup of tea!" he told them, lifting up his empty cup, "What do we do first?" 

"Well, a full, formal tea ceremony is a multi-hour event that starts with a kaiseki course meal, is followed by a bowl of thick tea and ends with a bowl of thin tea." Mikey blinked. "...Cool. So, we should start with preparing the meal then?" Hiroki smiled sheepishly, "Well, Kaiseki meals have a prescribed order to their dishes, most of which are prepared by using one of the common techniques of Japanese cooking. However, kaiseki chefs have considerable freedom to add, omit or substitute courses in order to highlight regional and seasonal delicacies and personal style. I don't think we have the ingredients for it here. Unless I could get it now if you wish." 

"Mm, nah." Mikey wouldn't want her running errands when they were supposed to be having tea. "Maybe we could use substitutions? Like, have a NYC version of a kaiseki meal so you don't have to go all over the city for ingredients?" "OOH, that would quite unique! Let's see what we can whip up in the kitchen! I'll tell you ALL the traditional dishes we would have while your father finishes setting up!” Mikey grinned. "Sounds good to me!" Splinter chuckled again, patting his boy's shell as he got up and followed his aunt towards the kitchen.

"You three seem to be having a good time..."

"Hm?" Splinter's ear twitched a bit as he turned towards the voice. Hikari slowly stepped out of the shadows of one of the sewer tunnels. “Mikey is really getting into Hiroki’s tea parties.” Splinter's face lit up. "Oh, Hikari, it is you! Would you like to join us? I'm sure Mikey would not mind the extra company, nor would we." Hikari shook his head. “No thank you. You know I could never really get into the flow of these ceremonies. Besides this was more of a you and Hiroki thing. I always preferred just exploring the forest or pranking Saki with you instead.” Hikari said softly. 

"Oh... Well, uh, there's a forest just outside the city. We could go there after the ceremony if you'd like," Splinter told him, "We actually have a friend who lives there. He is a bit strange but he makes really great lemonade." 

"Oh uh...is he a mutant by any chance?", Hikari asked nervously. They've been to New York a few times now but Hikari still hasn't gotten over the fact that mutants and yokai were real.

"...Yessss," Splinter replied slowly, "But he's a capybara so, super chill. And uh, he has a bunch of normal, non-mutant puppies too, so..." 

Hikari shrunk back a little at that, "Perhaps another time then. I probably would be a nuisance to you....like I always was." The last part he muttered to himself. Splinter blinked, his rat hearing still picking up on that last bit. "What do you mean?" Hikari glanced at his older brother, "I was a pest, a total pain that drove you away. That's...that's why you left us...left me." 

"What?" Splinter's ears folded down, his eyes sad now. "No- No, Hikari, that is- I never considered you a pest, and you had nothing to do with me leaving." 

Hikari's eyes widened, "I wasn't? but...Saki said...you hated us...and that I was one of the main reasons you ran away. I was always clinging to you and following you, like a second shadow. And that life in America was better than hanging around me for a second longer." Remembering those horrible words their eldest spewed at him when Hikari had asked for the umpteenth time where Yoshi was and when was he coming back.

Splinter scowled. Damn it Saki... it was bad enough his oldest brother was a bully and a pain, only caring about honor and tradition, but did he have to drag Splinter's name through the mud too?

 "Hikari... It broke my heart to leave all of you behind. ...Well, all except Saki. But I had to leave - not because I was tired of you or annoyed by you but... because I couldn't be the Hamato Clan Warrior that Father wanted me to be." He scowled to himself. "I couldn't take the training, or the discipline... I could not take the pressure, or the pain of continuing to hide my true self."

Hikari's lip trembled as tears slowly formed in his eyes. "I had no idea, I didn't. I didn't know you were suffering so much. But why didn't you take me with you? You know I would follow you anywhere. We could've started over here together." Hikari lowered his head, "Instead we didn't hear from you in years until recently. Nori tried telling me you were off doing something important, but I had my doubts."

"Otōto..." Splinter stood up, walking towards his younger brother to hug him. As much as he had tried to ignore it, he had always known how much his leaving had hurt his siblings, but he hadn't known by how much until now. "I'm so sorry, Hikari... I would have taken you if I could have."

Wiping his tears away, Hikari hesitantly placed his arms around his Aniki. "Then why didn't you? Did someone stop you, was it too dangerous?"

"Heh..." He smiled sadly. "...Did Kenji ever tell you about the night I left?"

The second-youngest Hamato shook his head, "No, every time I asked him about your whereabouts. He just changed the subject."

"...The night I left... it was Kenji who helped me escape," Splinter told him, motioning for Hikari to sit down, "I had been locked in my room for a while at that point, barely been given anything to eat or drink. Father was trying to get me to break and submit to the Hamato way, to 'stop my foolishness' as it were... It was the middle of the night when Kenji woke me up, practically dragging me out of my room and off to the train station." Splinter blinked away a couple tears as he smiled softly at that memory. "If not for him... I do not know how long I would have been able to hold on. It was Kenji that told me to leave, while I still could. I did not want to abandon you all... but I also understood that it was my only shot - that it would not be as easy to escape a second time, and that Father would only be harsher as the years went on. So, I followed Kenji's advice. and I left."

Hikari didn't know how to react to that. He knew their father was an intense man, he himself had some rather scarring memories he would rather not bring up. But was Spli-Yoshi really put through such hell? And Ken Nii-San actually disobeyed their father to set him free?? His second older brother was always the keep the peace guy.

"Aniki...I'm sorry...I know how harsh Father could be...but I didn't know he would go THAT far. Nor did I think KENJI would do something so daring. He really saved you." 

Splinter nodded. “He did... and as much as I missed you, my little brother, I could not afford having Father finding out where I was and sending Saki or one of the clan members after me. ...and, for what it is worth, while I would have loved to have you with me, it was probably better that you weren’t. I was in a new country, a new language, people who didn’t look or speak like me. Also, you don’t just become a big movie star overnight, after all. I had a couple of rough years trying to find roles and only getting bit parts.” It was a wonder he didn’t starve during that time, honestly.

"We probably would've been separated...or worse.” Hikari said. Everything finally made sense but that didn't mean the pain was gone.

Knowing this, Splinter hugged him again. “I am still sorry that I wasn’t able to see you grow up... or that I wasn’t able to properly say goodbye.”

Hikari hugged him back tight. "Aniki...I wish I was able to help you, I didn't realize you were in so much pain. I'm just happy that we're together again now."

"I am too, my brother, and please believe me that I want to spend as much time with you and our siblings as possible while you are all here with me. Both I and my sons do." 

Wiping the remaining tears and snot (ew) from his face, Hikari started to smile. 

"Is that offer to visit your capybara friend still open?"

"Of course," Splinter smiled, "We can do whatever you want."

"GET READY FOR THE FINEST CUISINE NEW YORK HAS TO OFF-" Hiroki sang as she and Mikey left the kitchen. Immediately noticing her twin and their older brother practically bear-hugging each other. And the slightly red eyes Hikari had. Hiroki immediately passed the platter of food to her nephew and rushed to her brothers' side.

"Hikari!? What's wrong? Why are you crying?? What happened, Nii-san?" Splinter took his sister's hand, patting it to try and calm her. "Hey, hey. It is alright, Hiroki. Everything's fine! We were just, ah, having a bit of an emotional moment." ‘More like a conversation that was long overdue.’ 

"Yes Hiro Nee-chan, nothing to worry about now.” Hikari sniffed, a relaxed smile appearing on his face. "Nothing at all." For the first in a long time, he finally felt at peace. 'I was actually wondering if I could join your little tea ceremony. I hear you're quite the chef, Michelangelo."

Splinter's smile grew at that, his own eyes getting a bit teary. "Wait, really? Well of course you can join us!" Setting his own plates down, Mikey joined in on the group hug. "And heh, yeah, I am sorta the family cook. Auntie Hikori was just teaching me how to make a traditional tea ceremony meal, and I was showing her how to add a bit of razz-ma-tazz to it." 

"Razz...Tazz? That sounds...unique. Let me try this tazz." Hikari said letting go of his family and reaching for a piece on the platter.

Hiroki beamed and squealed, "I never thought you'd want to take part in my tea ceremonies, Hikari! What a pleasant surprise! But I still want to know what the tears were for from the two of you." She said giving Splinter a look.

Mikey giggled. "Help yourself!" he told his uncle, hoping he'd enjoy it. "I will tell you later," Splinter assured Hiroki. If Saki had told his little brother such things, who knows what he told his sister. Hiroki finally looked reassured and started to set everything out. "Now! Traditionally, we start off with bite-sized appetizers and a small glass of alcohol." She pulled out some apple juice instead.

“Since Michelangelo is underage, we'll stick to juice." 

"Will you please present the appetizers, dear nephew?"

Mikey saluted before getting the plate, bowing slightly as he presented it to his father and uncle. Splinter sniffed it. "Mmm, smells yummy!"

"This is absolutely wonderful, Michelangelo. You really are gifted!" Hikari smiled. He wished for more moments like this. Just relaxing, chatting, and bonding with his family. They may not have had a great beginning, but he hopes that in later times they'll create happier memories to look back on. As the group of four dined and talked, Hikari sat closer to his beloved older brother.

Mikey beamed. If not for the plate he would have hugged his uncle again. "Thanks Uncle Hikari, and there's more where that came from! There's still a whole lot more where that came from!" They had a whole meal to enjoy, after all. Taking a sip of his apple juice, Mikey hummed and leaned a bit towards his pop. "You knowww, I am a mutant turtle, which means I don't HAVE to follow the law since I can't really get arrested, given that human cops don't even know I exist. So, if I WERE to have a bit of alcohol-"

 "Mikeyyyy," Splinter said, giving his son a bit of a look, making his answer to the unasked question quite clear. The box turtle sighed. "Worth a shot." 

 "Why are you so interested in drinking anyway?" 

 "Rupert Swaggart uses alcohol in his cooking all the time! Plus I'm curious about the taste. I mean, it has to be pretty good if people drink it all the time.”

The twins stared at Mikey in confusion. “Rupert Swaggart? Isn't he that gross fat pig thing you boys were fighting the other day?" Hikari asked. "I bet he tastes delicious." Hiroki chimed.

END

This was an RP I did with @fanfic-inator795. Big Thanks for the help, friend!

[paradise-of-guilty-pleasures]

Shattered Reflections {23}

[Helsa RP- Fanfic]

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Post-Frozen/ Canon Divergence

- Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance

Pairing(s): Hans/Elsa, Kristoff/Anna

Previous Chapter: 22. Waltz of the Snowflakes

23. Cordially Invited

Elsa overslept after her long evening, but she'd still got up well before Anna started stirring out of her slumber. Oversleeping to Elsa only meant she'd gotten up at a more sensible hour, closer to when normal people (and not extra early birds, such as herself) tended to awaken. Her mind not shutting off right away once she'd gone to bed really took a toll and the price was more sleep, how tragic. Perhaps Anna would have been able to do her hair after all, if she only allowed herself to sleep in, for real. She smiled a little, gazing in the vanity mirror as she brushed and put her hair back in her usual braid, remembering the compliments she'd gotten. 

 Soon she was off on her normal routine even if she had started a tad bit later than usual. Her workload seemed quite manageable that day. As lunchtime started rolling around, Elsa started  thinking of possibly having a tea time with Hans that afternoon. Sure, it was imprudent, especially considering the late night they just had, but she was eager to spend more time together if they were both able. She was eager, but perhaps not dauntless enough to go ask him directly, maybe being a bit nervous to face him now that he was more sobered up. So she decided to send him an invitation, yes it might have been overly formal, but sending him a written request put her more at ease (particularly for the off chance he would decline instead). He was to receive the invitation along with his lunch, and Elsa would have to wait until tea time to see if he would join her, which was a bit suspenseful, she of course would be a disappointed if he didn't show (but probably not as much if he'd told her), but she'd given him the option of not coming if he was unable as well.

  Hans was also an early bird, now too beset by the idea of waking up at a reasonable hour. He still slept in a little later than Elsa, but for his part, he had little to do but sleep, much to his eternal vexation. The invitation was a surprise, but a pleasant one. He thought it was terribly cute that she wrote it all out formally. She could've easily sent someone to just ask, it wasn't as if they were a mile apart, but she had opted for a formal letter. He was half-tempted to be cheeky and write a formal acceptance back, but suspected she would miss the humor in it. Instead, he opted to wear some of his nicer clothes -still quite ordinary, as he did still have his prison clothes, but some of the ones with the bloodstains best washed out- and appear there when tea time arrived, on the dot. He had little better to do than be punctual, and as a Navy man, punctuality was important. more so than uniforms, at any rate. 

 "Good afternoon, your Majesty. Or is tea time when we switch to 'good evening'?" He asked with a smile, just being sweet and light.

 At the sound of Hans' voice resonating through the room, Elsa turned to look at him. She had previously been playing around with the table spread trying to make it look just right, she could be a bit obsessive when it comes to being orderly. Seeing him more dressed up than she'd become accustomed to, caught her by surprise, she hadn't seen like that since he'd first arrived, not that she was complaining. 

 "Oh, good afternoon," she greeted with a smile. "Glad you were able to join me."

"Of course. I made room in my busy schedule of 'nothing much to do' just for this." He assured, with a playful smile. "Tea in the music room perhaps, then? So I can play for you?" The tone of a servant, though given with what was perhaps a knowing smile. He suspected she might've liked him. He didn't think he was deserving of it, part of him wanted to warn her away from it, but he couldn't deny that it felt nice to be liked. He hadn't decided yet how to feel about the whole thing.

"Sounds like you really had to clear your schedule just to make it," she lightly laughed. "Yes, of course, but please do have some tea first,"she offered, signaling with her arm that he should take a seat at the already arranged table, she didn't want him to just play for her the whole time.

  "As you please." He hummed, settling where she gestured and moving to pour the tea. He was a gentleman, and a Navy man. In a way, he was used to service. It was a small gesture, but not one that one might expect of a prince, let alone the one once accused of Treason. The silence was unusual, but amicable. Hans didn't want to be the one to break it, when tea warranted a bit of thoughtful introspection and quiet contemplation.

  Elsa was used to silence while she sipped tea in solitude, yet with Hans there it somehow felt unbearable, even if it was rather nice just to have him there, she had to break the ice. Starting conversations wasn't her forte, but she gave it a try just to get him talking. She needed to think about a topic, of course she could ask about the weather but that was so drab, she had to come up with something better. Think Elsa, think. She looked around the room. That's it! Instruments. She could ask what instruments the rest of the Princes of the Isles had taken up, but then she didn't like being the one to bring up his brothers or the Isles, she still only felt comfortable asking when he was the one opening up to talk about that subject. 

 "So, when did you start learning to play the harp?" she asked instead, she didn't know the answer despite them talking about his ability to play the harp countless times.

Hans had to think about it a bit. "Oh, when I was young I suppose, maybe around my early teenage years? Those were difficult, but Gregory plays piano, and makes music his life, so he taught me." Hans seemed to detect Elsa's discomfort with the silence, and opted to go on. "He married a singer, Katharina. Sweet girl, never heard her say an unkind thing, and that is an accomplishment, living with the family. Gregory is a good man, all kindness and passion for music. His response to terminal illness was to opt out of any crown business and focus solely on music. The castle would be a miserable place without it." He didn't mind talking about the good parts of his family. If asked in good faith, he wouldn't mind talking about the bad parts, either.

  "That's sweet, it's awful that your brother is ill, but it sounds like he's making the best of it by surrounding himself by things he loves." Elsa didn't know how else to respond. It was bittersweet. It was nice to hear that one of Hans' brother's was the one that taught him.

  "He is, and filling the castle with music. A number of us learned some instrument or other, so I chose the Harp. In a family full of men, even Eduard was shy of choosing a feminine instrument. He's changed a lot since then, of course, but I wanted something unique, so I picked the Harp. It's a background instrument, something no-one but the player truly pays attention to on most occasions. Exactly the sort of role I wanted in the house: unnoticed." He explained simply. "My brothers harassed me for all sorts of things already, adding one more was meaningless, and by that point I was learning to withstand them. Not well enough, but I made it through my teenage years." With the help of some other brothers cutting him down, but she didn't need to know the details of that venture. The harp was much more harmless, better to talk about that.

  Unique but unnoticed, sounded a bit like a contradiction. Elsa let out a groan at the mention of him being tormented by some of his brothers, it was always upsetting to hear that his own family was purposely callous towards him. 

 "Hopefully, you don't mind being noticed playing for me." He would not be obscured in the background playing for her, instead he would be the focal point of her attention.

  "I don't mind being noticed here. Unless it's by Anna, I'd sooner she forget I was here at all. But for you, I don't mind being noticed." He assured her gently. He cringed a little. "When I say it all out loud it sounds much worse, doesn't it?" He admitted with a weak chuckle. "Many of my brothers are sweet or largely inoffensive. Most of my 'tormenting' was sibling teasing. A few bad apples made my life a bit rough, though statistically the number is higher than I'd like." He assured, apparently trying to comfort her with the idea that not all of his childhood was awful. It was, he just didn't realize he deserved his traumas.

  Elsa shrugged a little at his question, she truly didn't mind either. 

 "Having only one sibling it's hard for me to truly understand, but I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have a sister as loving as Anna."

  "I would suggest that being alone would've been much more unbearable without knowing there was someone on the outside missing you. It's a sharper pain, but I've found that while sharp cuts hurt more in the moment, they do less damage overall than significant blunt pains." It was probably for the best if he didn't expound on his knowledge of that.

  "I suppose," she answered with a nod as she took another sip of her tea. Their conversation seemed to have gone gloomy without delay, but that wasn't new, it seemed to be a common occurrence with the two of them. Thinking of a way to try to brighten it up proved rather difficult for Elsa since starting and keeping a conversation going was already a challenge for her.

  Hans, by contrast, seemed perfectly comfortable with both the quiet and with the gloomy turn. He lived mired in it, so being able to talk about the gloomy things may have actually been a bit of a good sign. They were comfortable, and could unload on each-other all the dark things that bothered them-- if they trusted each-other with that.

  "Hmm, sorry. I didn't mean to bring up anything dark. It's a bit how my mind works, I think. I don't think it's always a bad thing, to reflect on bad things. We just have to watch that it doesn't overtake us. The seas are allowed to be a little edgy, so long as we don't sail directly into a maelstrom." He would bring it back to sailing, somehow.

  "Oh, don't be. My mind tends to go down that path as well. I don't mind talking about that stuff, I'm just so used to changing the subject before it gets too dark because I don't feel I can really talk to Anna about some of these things."

  "Well, thankfully for me, I'm not Anna or I'd have to be even angrier with myself. You're welcome to talk about the dark things with me. Lord knows I do it enough, but I suppose I only talk about the darker things here because you actually seem to take an interest." And express sympathy, rather than telling him to man up or get over it. She didn't need to know that part.

 "Of course, I like to listen. I think it helps me understand you a bit better," she assured.

  "For better or worse, hm?" He suggested with amusement. He meant it as a joke about how it might not be a good thing to understand him better. He didn't think about the line as also being used in wedding vows, and it was probably best not to read into it. "Well, is there anything you'd like to know about me? While we're being chatty and talking about dark things, may as well."

  Anything? Everything, if she was being honest. She had countless questions, but that moment being put on the spot she couldn't think of any. What could she ask him that she was most curious to know. 

 "Hmm." She paused and pondered. She could really ask him anything, yet her mind was blank. Then she thought of something she was still in the dark about. She seemed to have gotten a better understanding of the relationship he had with his brothers when he described them to her but she still didn't know much about his parents. What she gathered from previous conversations was that Hans thought of his father as a good man, but he was unfortunately ill and his mother seemed to be a different story; he seemed to hold some rancor towards her. She wondered if it was a can of worms she was really wanting to open. 

 "Um, I think I would like to know more about your relationship with your parents, so I can get a better idea of what they're like --like I did when you talked about your brothers-- Of course you don't have to answer if it's too personal." She asked somewhat nervously, thinking she might have overstepped the boundary. She really could have asked him absolutely anything and yet that's what came to mind.

  Hans shrugged a little, as much a gesture of opening his hand as it was with his shoulders, he was willing to give up that knowledge if she was willing to ask for it. 

 "My mother was an actress, and in many ways, still is. I'm sure I'll never know what father saw in her aside from her beauty. She is quite beautiful, and a talented actress, but unfortunately she is also a horribly neglectful mother, and prone to the 'man up and make something of yourself' school of parenting. 'Westergaards are lions, not mice' she would say, and we would all casually overlook the fact that she's only one by marriage, so what would she bloody well know about it?" He shook his head a little.

  "She's the type to tell the people that she loves all her children, but she never learned sign language for Bernhard, and that, I think, tells you all you need to know about her. Though I'll be happy to talk about what a terrible mother she is all day if you're interested." He certainly pulled no punches, there. "My father, on the other hand, has always been loving and supportive. Gerard took after him splendidly; all integrity, loyalty, and honor. I only pray that Gerard didn't also inherit his poor health."

  Ouch, that was harsh, both how Hans saw her and how she treated her children, though it wasn't far off from what she'd deduced. She didn't know how to respond, but she asked in the first place. Elsa almost wanted to apologize, but refrained herself for doing so, because he would only tell her it was not her fault, which was true. 

 "You're welcome to talk about it whenever you want, I'll listen," she offered, with sincerity. Though now might not have been the best time to spend all day talking about it, souring their tea time with bitter memories.

  "I don't think of when I want to do things, generally. Remember, I'm a mirror. Who do you think I got that from?" His mother, of course. The actor took after the actress. "I do what people approve of. I want to be approved, that's how I am. When left to my own devices, I try to avoid notice and be as unremarked as possible, usually. At least in the Navy I had a role, it was whatever my rank said I was. To be approved of I simply had to do my job. That was easy. Fools tell stories and jokes as long as they have an audience, guards protect and train and are ready to defend a kingdom, prisoners need only to sit in a cell and be repentant. Jobs are easy. Being a prince is damned near impossible. At least where I'm from." It was a novel way to think of it, and one he had never really put to words before. As long as he had a job, a role, an identity, he could be. When he didn't, he tried not to be at all, because then all he was left with was 'mirror'.

  He kept saying that he was nothing but a mirror, yet Elsa didn't fully believe it herself, she firmly felt there was something more. Yes, he was excessively adaptable trying to seek validation, but she didn't think he was reflecting 'what people wanted' without reflecting a bit of himself as well. Though perhaps the problem was he failed to realize he even had a reflection. He lost himself playing the parts, yet that didn't mean people didn't recognize the actor in the role. In actuality, she saw him more as a man trapped in a mirror instead of being the mirror himself, and because of that he was unable to see his own reflection. Elsa wanted to state something similar to her speculation out loud, but no words came out, instead she remained silent and sipped her tea.

  "Hm, the more time I spent telling you I don't talk about my issues, the more time I spend talking about my issues." Hans admitted, after a long and awkward silence. He couldn't help but smile sheepishly over his tea, while he shut up and drank a bit. "What can I say? You bring the truth out of me, whether I want it or not. And maybe deep down I do." What an odd thought, yet it seemed true. He wanted to talk to her about things, and hear what she did -or didn't- have to say about it.

  "I'm glad to hear that," Elsa smiled with an audible hum, she was indeed flattered that he was willing to open up to her, and certainly more than happy to listen. Her beaming blue eyes jumped from her tea cup to Hans and back again.

  He wondered a moment if she had wanted to say something. He certainly didn't mind as the quiet settled in again, this time more peacefully. 

 "I wonder how it is, that my kingdom has all the sun, but yours is somehow brighter?" He mused. It was just a general 'feeling' of brighter and lightness. Maybe it was just her. "Our land is warmer, but yours has the warmth, as it were." And it was true, Arendelle was -at least socially- warmer.

"Hm, you really think so?" She questioned with curiosity. She hadn't known much about how things were outside her own home so it was hard for her to compare. "How else would you say the Isles really differ from Arendelle? As a place I mean."

  "Our humor is darker, we're a little less... I'm not sure. I want to say 'we're less kind', though I'm not sure how to justify that accusation. More, we have different philosophies about the world, I think, and Arendelle's is lighter and sweeter. Of course, the majority of my exposure to the Isles is through the castle. It's possible the town is nothing like that and my expectations are just colored." He shrugged. "My perspective is certainly much darker than most. But then, the Isles still has corporal punishment, so I think it's probably justified to say that we're much darker." It was just a fact, as he knew it. It was less frequently used than it had once been, but it was still there.

  Elsa nodded along. Perspective was a fickle thing, experience really could mold the outlook someone held about something, be it a place or a person. Elsa would have never imagined that her perspective of Hans would ever alter, yet here they were, an unlikely pair having tea together. Naturally it would have never happened without Elsa allowing herself the opportunity to try get to know him better. 

"You know I used to wonder...and worry, whether or not I could maintain Arendelle’s prosperity as Queen. That's still certainly on my mind, but it was more prevalent before my ascension, back when I was planning to keep the gates closed." She remembered, with the talk about their homelands. "I'm truly grateful that the gates are now open, I'm sure the people are too and find it more pleasant, than having an ominous Queen ruling them from behind a closed gate. I really am blessed to be able to see, feel and enjoy Arendelle's happiness myself."

  Hans nodded thoughtfully. "In spite of everything that happened, I'm... glad that whatever awful things happened, I ended up here, at this moment. I certainly wouldn't want to repeat past events if it could be helped, but, being here now is nice. It's certainly better than I expected would happen after those events." Not quite what he had hoped or planned for before them, but hopes and plans of 'then' were meaningless now. Now he was just happy that Elsa seemed to have forgiven him. "Do you think Anna will forgive and forget? Or, at least, forgive? I wouldn't be surprised nor offended if she didn't, but I'm curious about your perspective."

  Elsa pursed her lips like she usually did when she pondered. 

 "I really don't know to be honest. I want to say yes, maybe someday, because Anna is the kindest, most loving and forgiving person I know...but she's still hurt and I don't know when or if that will ever heal," she offered her insight. "I don't know if forgiveness will come for sure, but there's hope for a compromise."

  Hans nodded thoughtfully. "It's a difficult proposition, I know." He thought about the cold dismissal in Anna's voice when she said 'I have no use for you'. It was something he should have expected, yet it still knotted his stomach to think about. He gritted his teeth a little and refocused on his tea, taking a sip and trying to re-center himself on something nicer. 

 "So, ah, anything else you'd like to know about me or my family? Working on a ship, foreign lands, anything?" Questions. Anything to prompt him to think of something else. He didn't look at her when he said it, he was staring off at nothing, the corner moulding on the far wall by the rug. He wasn't really looking at it, but trying to wrestle himself away from his thoughts.

 Elsa noticed the subtle change in his demeanor. It was clear he wanted to change the subject, but she forgot to tell him something and perhaps it would have been better if she had started off with it. 

 "You know last night Anna told me it was perhaps good that you were here and that we could learn something important," she mentioned. 

 Elsa remembered she never did get the chance to tell Hans that Anna had a habit of hitting a person's weak spots without knowing it, like Kristoff had suggested after their confrontation, so it was likely he was taking the idea of being seen as 'useless' by Anna to heart ever since then. She didn't know if her words would help any, but she was at least putting them out there.

  Hans tilted his head a little, curiously. "Oh?" He sounded very puzzled by that thought. "And what on earth could be learned from this, for you?" Yet even as he asked, some part of him started filling in answers. "She thinks it might be good that I'm... well, I did help with the invasion." He admitted with a shrug. Indeed, he had helped to turn the tide of it, he just didn't realize how vital he had been, yet. To say nothing of re-training the guard staff.

  "Hm? Yes, she recognized that you helped stop the raid."Elsa nodded, and added." I don't know what we would have done without you.

Hans blinked, perplexed by the thought. He knew it, yes, but it was different to hear it out loud. It seemed his mind was bound and determined that he should hate himself, so evidence that he shouldn't was slow to process. 

 "I'm still perplexed that Weselton tried at all, that's a hangable offense in the Isles, starting wars against other nations. Especially with me here. My brother would never have authorized an attempted coup, let alone knowing I was here." He got lost on that thought a moment, almost forgetting to acknowledge his own help. "I suppose... The coup would have been successful. Or at least, more successful than would matter otherwise. I can't imagine..." But he could, all too well. He knew what sword-hacked necks looked like, and he trembled to think about the blood in the grand hall.

  "Forgive me, my imagination just ran away with me in an awful way. I think I know what will feature in my nightmares now." He had them all too frequently, but nightmares were normal to him.

  "Let's think of something more pleasant than that battle. Olaf seems to have figured out who I am, and he's taking it well. Your little snow-prince has quite charmed me." Hans admitted, putting on a pleasant tone as he tried to find something as far removed from blood and gore as he could drag it.

  "Oh, he has? It makes sense he would have figured it out by now, I didn't know how to tell him myself. The only reason I didn't want him to know in the first place was to keep him from telling Anna, because as you know, he is a rather chatty snowman," She assured. "It was rather pointless considering what happened next, yet it did make you 'Hans the Fool' which both of you seem to enjoy, so some good came out of it, I suppose," Elsa smiled, remembering how entranced they'd been when Hans told his story. 

 "Olaf is an embodiment of excitement, so I'm not surprised he's taken a liking to you especially considering you enjoy indulging him, which the rest of us aren't always able to do. I'm glad you've taken a liking to him as well. I'm sure he's ecstatic to have found himself a kindred spirit." She noted. "Though why do you keep calling him my 'little snow-prince'?" It was admittedly a rather cute nickname, but did Hans actually believe Olaf was next in line to the throne because he saw Olaf as her magic snow child. She didn't know how she felt about that, even if it was just another jest.

  Hans chuckled a little. "Because the first thing I asked was 'is he in line for the crown', and I noticed you never actually answered that question." Hans laughed into his hand, a little impish again. "I know he's probably not, because that would be a clerical nightmare, but it's a very cute thought and I can't help but find it endearing. He is very much like a child, so I rather want to treat him like one." That said some pleasant things about Hans, and how he spoke to children, at least. "Excitement and adventure do go along delightfully well, perhaps that's why we get on. I've built my life around a yearning for adventure, and the excitement that goes with that feeds stories."

  "I think I might have missed the question entirely, because my mind was certainly preoccupied about other things when Olaf entered," She admitted. "Oh, he’s definitely not in line, though I will admit it's an endearing idea. But could you even imagine? Just thinking about it is giving me a headache, Arendelle being ruled by a living snowman, but certainly another interesting read for the history books, for sure. No offense to Olaf, but I don't think he's cut out to be king, it would certainly bore him to death," she lightly snickered, shaking her head at the silly notion. "Though it makes me wonder if he would disappear if I-" she brushed that thought away with a jerk of her head "... it's probably best not think too deeply about this silly little 'what if'."

  "Perhaps you could accompany Olaf on a little adventure around Arendelle someday, I'm sure Olaf would appreciate it, he's always eager to do anything to quench his infinite boredom, and you could always tell me the story of your quest afterwards," she suggested with a smile. It was a silly little idea, but she was sure the two childish boys would enjoy it.

Hans gave a slightly strained smile. "No, probably best not." He agreed, because he knew what the 'what if' was, too.

  "There's a nice thought. Maybe I'll give us a task the next time he's annoying you and Anna, and I'll 'babysit' the snowman. What else is a fool good for, if not entertaining the children?" He smiled a little, impishly, as if daring her to argue that he wasn't the fool or shouldn't boil himself down like that. "Perhaps that would be a fun children's story on its own, the snow-king, all about a snowman king in a world full of human kings. What a funny thought. I can't imagine him being adult enough to wear a crown, let alone use its power."

  "Hm. That's not exactly how I was envisioning it," she bobbed her head a bit. "I was thinking something more for the fun of it, I thought you'd enjoy exploring together as friends, instead as a nanny watching over a child," she shrugged. "Oh, and fools are good for far greater things, but seem to be too stubborn to see it." She glanced at him with a half smile before taking to another sip of her tea.

  "I really can't imagine Olaf ever really growing up, perhaps growing a little wiser, but magical snowmen don't really age like people so it's really hard to know." She shrugged again." And yes, the snow-king does sound like it'd make rather an interesting story," she agreed. "Maybe another story you can tell Olaf sometime... and perhaps me too." she added a bit shyly. "I do enjoy listening to your stories, fact or fiction, you make them so vivid and immersive. You really are a great storyteller you know, ever consider writing one?"

  "Oh it would still be a friendly adventure. But when else do I leave the castle, but when I have a task?" He was task-driven, it seemed, and perhaps he too was only just noticing that fact. "I used to write, but I would always burn the pages, remember?" He remarked, perhaps a bit more quietly. The only examples of his handwriting that he knew of, unbeknownst to him, were locked in her desk drawer. "I don't like to share thoughts I've written. To me they always carry the threat of being evidence to some unknown failure. Sooner or later someone will find it out and confront me with it." It was so petty, but that was his life in the Isles. Constantly picked apart by petty quibbles.

  "Oh, right, sorry," she said softly with a somber sigh. She hadn't forgotten, she just didn't think he would still worry about that anymore. 

 "It's one of those things you don't want to draw attention to yourself over...but I really don't think anyone would hold it against you here, in Arendelle at least, especially not with something as innocent as sharing a story. From what I got to read, you are quite a riveting writer, I'm sure people would approve and..." she paused, realizing her knack was probably kicking in, she frowned a little bit to herself, her tone turned more apologetic. "...pay me no mind, it was just a silly idea." Her bottom lip curled underneath the top one as she stared down into her tea cup. It was disheartening that he still believed he'd get reprimanded for expressing himself that way. He should be feel free to write without the looming fear of some unforeseen failure, over something so trivial. He wrote so eloquently in her eyes, a bit of a shame it was something he wasn't willing to share with others, because she believed they would enjoy reading his storytelling.

Hans looked curious. "No, go on? You rarely say so much, you must be passionate about the subject. I'm humbled to think that the subject would be my writing, of all things." He seemed quietly proud, and very humbled by the idea. "What are fools good for, if not silly ideas?"

Elsa lifted her gaze. "Oh, uh all I was really going to say was that I think people would enjoy reading your writing, but if you didn't want to bring attention to yourself, you could always share anonymously or using some alias," she suggested a bit sheepishly.

  Hans smiled a bit at that. "Not a bad thought, I suppose." He admitted gently. "I'll consider it, at least. It would be nice to see if people enjoy my stories." He sounded humble, maybe even shy of the prospect.

  Elsa smiled faintly, her eyes softening. She was happy he would at least consider it, that felt like an accomplishment to her.

  He shifted, almost uncomfortably, but he was still smiling. 

 "Never be afraid to voice your thoughts in your own kingdom, your Majesty. You're the Queen. Your opinion is the correct opinion, or at the very least the one that matters the most in most conversations you'll ever have here. It's okay to be confident now and then."

  Hans' formality got her out of her head, breaking the gaze she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She was definitely more confident when it came to giving her opinions on actual official matters as Queen, but for whatever reason when it came to more casual interactions with people (which were only a few) she definitely became more diffident. Perhaps because during those more personal times she tended to momentarily forget she was Queen and ended up behaving more like a normal person, which she really didn't have much experience in, so of course she was a little more awkward.

 "Yes, of course," she said in a more serious tone, her gaze fixed on the far wall. She was perhaps a little embarrassed of being reminded.

  Hans pondered her a moment, noting that she seemed difficult to jar from her thoughts.

 "Of course, you're a human, too." He pointed out, gently. "I've heard it said that part of a fool's job is to remind kings that they, too, are men. You're a human, you're allowed to make mistakes, and to be without poise once in a while. It's a difficult thing for royals to learn. We spend so much time learning how to be perfect, that it's hard to remember that we aren't, and never will be. That's part of why I tried to get the hell out of the castle when I got the chance. I was always trying to raft away from the island as a boy, there was a standing order for years that if anyone saw a raft in the water they were meant to look for me and make sure I didn't end up drowning somewhere. Funny enough, I ended up nearly drowning far more often as a Navy man." He transitioned seamlessly from gentle coaxing her out of her reveries into amusing childhood tales, just to try and cheer her. He was good at being a Fool.

  She returned her gaze to him. "How many times have you almost drowned? I think you've only told me about the sirens." 

 It was probably not the part she was supposed to retain out of what he'd been saying, but it was the one that piqued her curiosity.

  He thought about it and shrugged. "Not really something I keep track of, honestly. Are we only counting times we've been resuscitated? If so, then never, but only barely. But if we're talking about nearly passing out, it happens with fair regularity for various reasons. Usually me trying to be clever, is the root cause of it. And I am, but it has the side-effect of nearly killing me in the process." He laughed a little at that. "I'm not afraid of drowning, it's the coming back that hurts. I've never had to be resuscitated, but choking on inhaled seawater is never a fun experience."

  "I can only imagine," Elsa replied pithily with a slight shiver and perhaps somewhat more withdrawn than before. She had innocently asked the question out of what she assumed to be pure curiosity, yet perhaps there was more to why that topic had specifically caught her attention, and she just hadn't realized it right away. She seemed to have started slipping into her daze once Hans mentioned that he wasn't afraid of drowning.

  Hans noticed her slipping. It seemed to be happening a lot, that day. Usually that was his job. He stood, and moved to sit directly next to her, whereupon he offered her his hand. "Something is troubling you, my lady. A pence for your thoughts?" He asked, gently. "You're dwelling on death, I know the feeling."

  Elsa's eyes followed him as Hans made his way to sit beside her. How did he always seem to be able to read her so well? She didn’t deny his observation for it was true and instead let out a faint sough that accompanied the long breath that escaped her. Her hand easily placed itself in his without much hesitation, thankful to be surrounded in it's warmth yet again.

  Elsa took in a gasp of air and slowly began to speak, if softly and still a bit detached, but at least trying to voice what was troubling her mind. 

 "They were only supposed to be gone a fortnight,"she began, her fingers tightening their curl around his hand. "I asked them if they had to go... they said I'd be fine, of course that wasn't what I had been worried about." She grew quiet again.

  Hans softened and held her hand without a word for a while, tightening his grasp in a warming sort of way. He only wanted to help. 

 "You had every reason to be afraid. Few from land consider the unknowns of the sea." He admitted, reassuring her with a sort of calm. He kept his voice down so she could contemplate it in her own time, but he stayed with her there. 

 "Never walk into a sea of doubt alone, you may need someone to pull you back out. Go on ahead with your thoughts, I've got you." He suspected she needed to process some thoughts and be reassured. He would be there to tell her it wasn't her fault, and she could move on. It might not fix everything, but he thought it might help her handle it.

  Elsa had never gotten time to properly process the passing of her parents, even now she had never really talked about it in depth with her own sister. It had been around five years now and it still weighed heavy on her heart, how she couldn't even embrace them before they'd left, or how she couldn't be present at their memorial, and worst of all how she could not mourn alongside her own sister in their mutual time of heartache. And all that additional regret just because of her powers and the fear that used to consume her. The warmth and clasp of his hand around hers, help anchor her from going too deep into the dark sea of her subconscious. She took another deep breath before she began to speak again, this time a little more audible than the last. 

 "I know it was out of my control, but a part of me still wonders that if I tried a little harder perhaps I could have convinced them to stay." she sighed. "It aches my heart that I wasn't able to give them a proper goodbye." There was a slight wavering to her voice. Her eyes became slightly watery, but tears still at bay.

  "Here, now. Those what-ifs will be the death of you. They're always deceptive little things, questions as small as thumb tacks that will pierce holes in your heart. Parents never listen to their children, they had work to do, and they likely would have done it regardless how you felt. By your grace in letting them leave, they could at least know that you weren't greatly distressed when they left. They could remember their calm and thoughtful daughter and their upbeat and bright daughter, and they wouldn't feel they had made your last memory of them miserable." He didn't know if that would help, but he tried to think of what he would have wanted to hear. "It's okay to be unhappy about it, though. Don't think of the impossible 'what if's. It's said that we don't mourn for the dead, we mourn for the living they left behind. Be sad, mourn for your loss. And if you need a shoulder to cry on or arms to be held by, I'll volunteer mine any day." Was that too forward? He felt it was only right. He felt he understood her misery.

  Elsa listened and felt a bit relieved just receiving reassurance. 

 “Thank you," she said softly, giving Hans' hand a firm squeeze. Letting herself lean in a bit closer to Hans.

  Hans nodded. "What are fools for?" He joked gently. He shifted to settle, and opened an arm for her. She could keep holding his hand, or she could accept his arms and let him hold her. He told himself it was just because she was mourning, and he knew it would help her feel better. He tried to tell himself that was the only reason she might accept, too.

  She saw his opened arm as an invitation for an embrace, now the question remained of whether or not she would accept it. She was perfectly content the way they were now, holding his hand, it was in itself nice and warm, but a hug on the other hand could be a lot nicer and more comforting. It wouldn’t be the first time they embraced and Elsa really did like warm hugs, even if she wouldn't openly admit it like Olaf. It would make her a bit nervous being that close to Hans, but that was insignificant if she could surround herself in more of his warmth. It was a tough decision, but in the end she went with the one that felt the most right. Elsa slowly let go of her clasp on his hand, freeing his arm so he could hold her.

 Hans was at least a little bit surprised, but he thought that was probably a good sign. He rearranged himself to pull her close, as he would a good friend. He did wonder if that might seem a bit too intimate, though. 

 "Is this okay?" He asked, hoping that it was. She was surprisingly warming, for an ice queen. Or maybe that was him blushing, it was hard to say.

  "Mmhm," she answered with a nod. Elsa was quite used to receiving close and personal embraces from her sister, Hans was no Anna of course, yet their hugs felt somewhat similar, experience wise at least. Both their embraces made her feel safe and warm. The differences really boiled down to how they felt physically. Anna felt more soft, while Hans was not necessarily more stiff but certainly firmer. Their proportions and how they held her was different of course, Hans was far bulkier than Anna that was relatively the same her, and with Hans being taller as well it made his head float over hers. It also seemed their body temperature differed, Hans always felt somewhat warmer, yet her constant flushing whenever they came into close contact might have also played a part in why that seemed to be the case. Another difference that was perhaps strange to admit she took notice of was their scents. Anna always had a sweet aroma about her, Elsa hadn't figured out what exactly Hans' scent was yet but it was far muskier, that's for sure.

  Hans was sorely tempted to rest his chin on the top of her head, but he possessed just enough sense of decorum to realize he probably shouldn't treat the Queen of the country he now lived in like a small child. But, she seemed like she needed that warmth. At the very least, he held her close and petted her back, to try and calm her and help her feel better. Admittedly, he wasn't sure what to do after that. He would let her lead, and think of himself as just there for emotional support, as long as she wanted him there for.

In his embrace she no longer restrained the flow of tears she’d been holding back and began to sob silently. Finally letting the sorrow that's been stewing inside her to seep out. Allowing herself to grieve was a necessary process in enabling her heart to heal and overcome her anguish. 

 Her tears slowly began to fade away as she closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the warmth that blanketed her. It was so calming just to be cradled in his arms. She stayed perfectly still a long while, clearing her mind of everything, but the bliss of the moment. Hans always seemed to have a way of easing away her worries.

 In their silent embrace all she could really hear was breathing and the palpitations of Hans' heart, which was rather soothing for a time, until eventually his heartbeat started to evoke a resemblance to a ticking clock, which prompted her back to reality, realizing that she might have been holding on too long and that tea time wouldn't last forever. 

 Elsa recognized that separating from their embrace might be equally or more awkward than initiating it. She started to shift her body slightly, slowly pulling her body away from Hans’.

 "I'm sorry if this is not the tea time you were expecting, but thank you for indulging me regardless," she said earnestly.

Hans smiled a little anyway, as she pulled away, to encourage her. As much as he enjoyed that moment, it also made him wonder if he deserved it, and the more he thought along those lines, the more anxious he became. 

 "No apologies necessary, I'm glad to help," He assured. "I hope tea time isn't over already? I believe I promised to play for you." He pointed out sweetly. He would remember holding her for some time, but he wanted to linger on the moment for a little while. As anxious as he was, it was still a very pleasant experience.

Even as they were prying apart from each other, there was a part of her that wished it could just stay nestled in his caress. As the distance between them increased Elsa still didn't seem to feel the warmth dissipate, yet that was likely due to all the blood deciding to rush to her face (which made it the only thing she could really sense at the moment). 

"We still have some time, besides this tea time couldn't possibly be over before even getting the chance of listening to you play the harp," she reassured with a soft smile. It was the reason they originally planned to meet in the first place after all, they just ended up getting a little sidetracked along the way. Undoubtedly a little awkward and unexpected, but it had been pleasant overall as they continued to comfort each other with their company.