#considering everything i've been doing there has been
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You should see it. It isn't worth the risk of not seeing it if it's something that you might even remotely enjoy. Especially based on what one person says, no matter how much you admire or trust them.
He can dislike it, but if the unicorn had been buddy-movie grateful, disney-movie emotional, it would have been a very different, very shallow, MUCH worse movie. Like just, really really bad.
She's not bitchy or catty or cruel, she literally does not understand humans or their drive or their big emotions. She doesn't feel love, she doesn't feel regret. She doesn't have ambition, she doesn't desire or benefit from change. She barely wants anything. She's complete by herself. She is content.
She can't be ungrateful unless you expect what is essentially a...a kind of immortal spirit, a place, a forest in the shape of a creature, to be in any way at all human. She can't be a deity, that's an extremely human concept, but she is not a normal living thing in any regard whatsoever.
The entire point of the movie is change, and truth. Front to back, it is change and truth, and the destruction of illusions, and surviving it, and the toll that takes, and the gifts it can bring. It's full of tremendous and intense, unthinkable, incomprehensible, destructive, renewing, life-altering change. And also truth, and the unraveling of illusions, which are everywhere in the narrative, and are almost always dangerous, or hiding something that is.
The unicorn unravels everything around her by being the catalyst for change, and it is incredibly destructive. Things come apart around her. It leads to good things, usually, but it breaks everything first.
She changes on the road, she learns to care about humans enough to help them, to save their lives, and that is very much an expression of gratitude.
She just doesn't care about the wizard questing for greatness. It is irrelevant. Glory is useless. And she's right.
She doesn't experience a fundamental alteration of her nature until she is forcibly changed against her will to survive, and it is not a positive change. It ruins her. It is a tremendous trauma that leaves her empty and broken, and eventually, partly and unnaturally human. She keeps losing what she was, and it is tragic and painful to watch. Why would she be grateful for that? She wishes she had died.
She finally develops something like love, but only after she has forgotten much of what she was. Then she desperately grasps onto it as something to replace what she lost.
Her encroaching humanity is killing what she was (her first response to being human was absolute visceral terror at having a mortal, and thus actively dying, body) a trauma response that allows her to survive, to hide. An illusion.
Love is an attempt to make peace with it all, and it is beautiful enough, but also empty. You are never meant to cheer for it. Only feel for them both. It's a sticking point for some people that the romance isn't done well. It isn't meant to feel right. They leaned on it a little hard in the movie, the book does it better, but it was a "kids' movie" (it isn't) so that was a little inevitable.
Change destroys everything, and it breaks everything.
At the end, when she changes back, who is it she appears to, to acknowledge what happened? And who is it she visits and touches and loves and says goodbye to? She is grateful.
The movie/book does exactly what it set out to do, and I have to say that I don't necessarily trust the judgment of people who dismiss it out of hand.
Yes, I saw it young, in the theater, so I imprinted, but it has been a radically different movie at different parts of my life. I've identified with every character in different phases of my life, so it has had the depth to stand up to easily over a hundred viewings by a half dozen versions of myself. I know people have their issues with the style of animation which, whatever, I think it's gorgeous and I also don't consider that a reason to dismiss an otherwise good movie or show (I really dislike the animation style of Gravity Falls, actually, it bores the crap out of me, but that isn't the point). But the story itself is not like anything else I've ever seen.
If you get it, you get it. If you don't, you don't. But wanting her to be grateful and kind is...really super duper extremely not the point, and would actually be antithetical to it and ruin the story as it is. And it's missing the ways she expresses those things. If that's what you take away, that she is somehow morally deficient, you literally did not understand it, or you haven't seen it, or you have a take so radically divergent from mine I am probably incapable of understanding it.
It is so, so good.
Following the author of The Last Unicorn on Facebook is the only thing that makes being on that site worthwhile.
(source)
#the unicorn is a top tier autism creature and you can't tell me otherwise#trying to be what others think of as human in order to survive#not understanding what motivates the people around you because it just doesn't make sense#people not recognizing you or seeing you#hanging out with other weirdos like yourself#desperately seeking your people#having a bad relationship with lies and illusions#i mean come on#she's walking neurodivergence#right down to people expecting you to express emotions in a way they like
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All Of Your Pieces (1 - Honey! I shrunk the kids! 18+)
Summary: Wanda accidentally shrinks your kids while trying out a spell that would benefit both of you in the bedroom; Jimmy and Darcy attempt to find out more about the Hex, particularly when they discover a remarkable detail about you. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Tags: Smut, Campy Humor, Language
A/N: I've been working on this series since late August and have finally figured out what to do with it, enough to share it with you all. The story will be told in three parts: Westview (The Missing Town), Pre-Westview, and Post-Westview. This follows some events in WandaVision, but it's very canon-divergent. It's going to be different from my other works (I've never written humor before and I'm quite insecure about that), as this one is very plot-driven but at the same time, still very much Wanda x Reader (especially in parts 2 and 3). Updates will be every Wednesday. Chapters will be 2.5–3.5k words long, except for the ending chapters of each part, which are twice as long. So, without further ado… More author's notes here.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
-
“Honey! I shrunk the kids!”
Wanda bursts into the basement, apron billowing out like a cape. Except, there's no draft down here; that apron shouldn't be moving like that at all. But then again, considering your wife’s claim, maybe the laws of physics are taking a day off.
You glance up from the miniature model home you’re meticulously working on, unsure if you heard her right. Did she really just say that?
“You what?”
Wanda, flushed and a little breathless, skids to a stop in front of you. “Okay, so I was experimenting with a new spell, one that was supposed to…” She bites her lip, hesitating, her face glowing a deeper shade of red. “...it was supposed to do something else, but it backfired and... well, it’s not important right now!”
“Jesus, Wanda.”
Your poor, beautiful, occasionally clumsy wife stands there, teetering between a freak-out and a fit of giggles.
“It was an accident! I didn't mean to!” Wanda shrieks, causing the room to tremble from her panic.
Wanda's powers have always been a wildcard. You can child-proof the entire house in a day, but that definitely doesn't cover child-proofing Wanda herself—especially not when your kids are involved. Luckily, the boys have inherited some special abilities of their own, which leaves you as the sole non-superpowered member of the household. With that in mind, you know better than to panic. Getting worked up alongside her would only escalate things, and you’re not exactly keen on being shrunk next.
“Okay…where are they now?” you ask as calmly as you can manage.
Wanda takes a deep breath and leads you to the living room. You trail her in silence, clutching at composure. It can’t be that bad, right? The distant sound of playful music trickling through the house almost makes it seem like everything’s fine. You hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that you think about it, it’s like your brain has learned to associate that kind of tune with situations that somehow always end in collective sighs of relief.
Sighs, giggles, and applause—sounds that don't belong to Wanda or the boys.
Where are they coming from?
Before your mind can completely sink into the oddities of your life here in Westview, Wanda halts in the middle of the living room. Your eyes dart around, searching for Billy and Tommy, but they’re nowhere to be seen.
“Where?”
“Right there,” Wanda points toward the coffee table, her finger trembling slightly.
You squint in the direction she’s pointing. Next to the TV remote, two tiny figures wave up at you—your sons, each about the size of your thumb.
“Oh my god, they’re tiny!” you gasp, covering your mouth with your hand. You expected them to be at least half their normal size—a size they might grow out of eventually.
“Shhhh, Y/N!” Wanda hisses, pressing her index finger to her lips. “The neighbors might hear you.”
Neighbors. Which usually means just Agnes from next door. There’s literally several meters of spaces between your houses, but somehow, she always manages to hear things she shouldn’t and pries like she’s in some perfectly timed routine.
Wanda kneels by the coffee table, her eyes soft. “I told them to stay right there until we sorted this out.”
The twins start making noises, sounding like tiny bells, though still hard to make out. You pull out a magnifying glass from your back pocket—has that been there the whole time?—making sure your sons are okay. As soon as the lenses zoom in on their faces, you're relieved to see them laughing uproariously, seemingly unbothered by their predicament.
“They seem... happy?” you say, lowering the magnifying glass.
“They think it's hilarious,” Wanda grumbles, her lips curling into a pout.
“So,” you sigh, pushing yourself to your feet. “Any ideas on how to fix this?” You're tempted to suggest just letting it run its course, waiting for the spell to fizzle out, but you know Wanda wouldn’t go for that. She's fiercely protective of the twins, and you can't blame her—it’s all her handiwork, after all.
Then you hear it—a hiccup. Another follows, and then another, each one a little louder than the last.
Before you know it, Wanda's a sobbing mess.
You cup her face in your hands. “Hey, hey...it’s okay,” you murmur, gently brushing away a tear with your thumb.
Wanda’s breath hitches as she looks at you, her eyes brimming with worry. “What if I can’t fix it?”
“We will,” you promise, looking into her eyes.
A collective ‘awww’ rings in your ears, pulling you out of the moment. What the hell—where did that come from? You've had this creepy feeling of being watched lately, and it's only getting worse.
Wanda brings you back to focus when she nuzzles into your palm. “Oh, Y/N, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You give her a small, lopsided grin and plant a kiss on her forehead. “Good thing you’ll never have to find out.” Something passes over her eyes as soon as you say it, but it vanishes in a split-second, replaced by a moment of inspiration.
“Wait,” she bursts out, stepping away from your embrace. “I think I have an idea.”
She heads straight for the fridge, and you trail after her, holding your breath.
“I’ve been trying to reverse it, but my magic isn’t cooperating. It’s like... it’s tangled,” Wanda mutters, yanking things out of the fridge.
You scowl, arms crossed, watching her. “Tangled? What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. The more I try to fix it, the worse it gets. Like it has a life of its own,” she says. she says. After a few more seconds of rummaging, Wanda finally grabs a tetra pack of chocolate milk—the twins' favorite.
“I’m hoping this will do the trick,” she says, giving the carton a shake.
You cock your head, clueless on what’s going on. “Honey, what’s going on?”
Wanda mumbles, barely glancing up as she vigorously shakes the carton. “Just doing what it says—’Shake well before serving.’”
You roll your eyes, muttering, “This woman...”. Then louder, you ask, “I mean, what’s the chocolate got to do with our tiny children?”
Wanda stops mid-shake, a look of realization dawning on her face. “Oh, right,” she slaps her forehead. “You can’t read minds. I keep forgetting,” she chuckles, setting down the carton with a sheepish grin.
There it is again—a chorus of laughter from somewhere far off. Your mouth twitches at the sound—it’s really starting to get on your nerves. You make a mental note to bring it up with Wanda later.
Wanda gathers herself, then pitches her plan. “Instead of directly casting a spell on the twins, I think it’s safer to enchant this chocolate milk.” She picks up the carton again, giving it a final shake. “The idea is to infuse the milk with a spell that will gradually restore them to their normal sizes.”
You nod, beginning to understand what she’s trying to do. “Sounds less risky than zapping them with more magic head on.”
“Exactly,” she agrees, her eyes lighting up with excitement. You’d swear she’s getting a kick out of this macabre parenting hack—kids and all. The background tune keeps playing, like a promise that the universe won’t let things turn to shit. You’re wondering if maybe Wanda hears it too.
“This way, the magic is diluted and can adjust more naturally with their systems. It’s like... sneaking the cure into their bodies,” she says, snapping her fingers, red swirls of magic emanating from them to the carton of milk.
“I'm so proud of you, baby,” you say, leaning in for a quick kiss which she happily accepts. “For finding a fix, I mean. The whole shrinking our kids thing? Still not great.”
–
“What kind of spell do you think Wanda was going for?” Darcy asks, her eyes fixed on the credits rolling across the screen before it fades to black. She’s really gotten into Wanda’s little show, a welcome distraction from the freezing depths of hell that is New Jersey in November. Though exciting things are finally happening to her, the timing couldn't be worse.
“No clue,” Jimmy mutters, his attention glued to the laptop in front of him. It’s been two days since Quantico sent him to look into the bizarre case of a missing town—a phenomenon almost unheard of in the 21st century. Upon arriving, they discovered that the town in question, Westview, was enveloped by some sort of anomaly—or a Hex, as Darcy has started calling it, referring to the hexagonal shape of the barrier encasing the town.
Around the same time as the discovery, S.W.O.R.D. agent Monica Rambeau was quite literally sucked into the anomaly by accident. The only breakthrough has been Darcy Lewis’ detection of the signals, providing them with a window into the mysterious shroud, even helping them identify some of the show's characters as actual residents of the town.
But overall, they're still desperately trying to piece together why this is happening and how to stop it.
Darcy peeks over at the data on Jimmy’s screen. “Find anything new?”
Jimmy sighs in frustration. “No, not really. Everything we dig up just adds more questions instead of answers.”
“Like what, for instance?”
Instead of answering directly, he slides a thick file across the table toward her. “See for yourself.”
Darcy catches the file and starts flipping through it. Murmuring, she says, “So, Google finally returned search results?” The stack of papers is downright daunting. Jimmy’s right—any mountain of information would raise more questions than answers.
“No, not Google,” Jimmy corrects her. “Stark's highly confidential database did. The woman Wanda's married to in Westview? She’s not in any public records. Turns out her records were wiped clean two years ago.”
Darcy looks up, puzzled. “Why would Stark's company have this?”
“Just read, Darcy. It’s all in there,” he says, turning his full attention back to his research.
Darcy frowns slightly and begins scanning through the pages more attentively. It takes her a few minutes to piece together the information she's reading, with her mind going in different directions and still burning with curiosity about the spell Wanda botched.
Finally, she reads aloud, somewhat incredulously, “Subject was recognized as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s youngest marksmanship prodigy prior to recruitment by Stark Industries following the dissolution of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Subsequently provided tactical support on multiple classified operations in conjunction with the Avengers initiative.”
She sets the file down thoughtfully. “Kinda reminds me a bit of Romanoff or Barton. Total badass. I hadn’t pegged Maximoff for that crowd.”
“What crowd did you have Wanda filed under?” Jimmy asks, just out of curiosity.
Darcy’s gaze drifts off, a dreamy smirk on her lips. “Honestly? I always pictured her—or anyone for that matter—swooning over someone more…mythical hammer than tactical espionage.”
Jimmy snorts to himself at Darcy's whimsical take and says, “Of course, you’d say that. Thor's everyone's type.”
“He’s yours too?”
“Yeah, why not,” Jimmy shrugs, his tone more reluctant than sarcastic, which only amuses Darcy more.
“So,” Darcy begins, “Wanda's settled down in New Jersey, married to a woman? I mean, good for her. They all deserve a break. Maybe even an early retirement.”
Jimmy lets out a long, tired sigh, like he's just about done with everything. Darcy notices and raises an eyebrow. “What now?”
He barely glances up. “Like I said, everything’s in there. Just keep reading.”
Darcy groans but goes back to the file, flipping through the pages again. She’s about to make a snarky comment when something catches her attention—something that has her eyes practically popping out of their sockets.
“It… it says here Y/N’s dead.”
“That’s right,” Jimmy responds without missing a beat.
“Not snapped five years ago. Dead-dead.”
“Yep.”
Darcy stares at the page, disbelief all over her face. “That can’t be right, can it?”
Jimmy finally swivels his chair to face her, looking as tired as he sounds. “That’s what I’ve been trying to wrap my head around for hours. If aliens and superheroes are real, maybe bringing someone back from the dead to star in a sitcom isn’t so far-fetched, right?”
–
You carefully pull the blankets up over Billy, smoothing his hair and whispering a soft good night. Tommy’s already half-asleep, but you make sure to tuck him in just as snugly, brushing a kiss on his forehead. Wanda stands in the doorway, watching you, her heart swelling in her chest. You were so clueless when she first had the twins, but now, being a mother just seems to come naturally to you.
And you pulled it off in a week, while the twins stretched into six-year-olds just as fast.
“Honey,” you call softly, noticing the way she’s lost in thought. “Aren’t you going to say good night to our boys?”
Wanda steps into the room, giving each of the boys their good night kiss. You pucker your lips, silently asking for your turn, and she playfully swats your arm, whispering, “Not here, baby.”
You pout, giving her your best puppy-dog eyes, which only makes her smile. Without warning, you grab her hand and hurriedly pull her out of the boys' room, making a beeline for your bedroom. Wanda’s laughter fills the hallway, and just as you reach the door, you suddenly sweep her off the ground, lifting her into your arms.
Wanda lets out a shriek, her laughter infectious, and you can’t help but grin, even as you let her thump onto the mattress—a sloppy, graceless drop. You follow her onto the bed, rolling onto your stomach to peer down at her, still sporting that stupid smile.
“So, about that kiss you owe me,” you whisper, hovering closer, teasing her with your proximity.
Wanda nods distractedly. “I think I can manage that,” she murmurs, and then her lips are on yours.
It starts simple and sweet. Though soon, her tongue is gently nudging your lips apart, and it quickly becomes anything but. Her hands slip down to your back, pulling you close until her heartbeat hammering against yours. You break away, lips trailing down to her neck, exploring every dip and hollow, your tongue darting out to taste her skin. When you hit that spot just behind her ear, the one that always drives her wild, she gasps.
“Don't start something you can’t finish,” she warns, her voice already thick with want.
“Who says I won't?” you shoot back with a wolfish grin.
You both fall into a familiar routine, as easy to slip into as the back of your hand. There’s no hurry, just the two of you moving languidly—whispering against skin, giggles turning into sighs and breathy moans. Sometimes, being with Wanda feels like a desperate need, as if not having her completely would literally be the end of you. But it’s moments like these that are your favorite—the ones where you’re barely even trying, yet she still comes apart at your touch, at the mere feeling of your fingers on her.
Eventually, you both settle down, a contented sigh escaping you as you curl up against Wanda, your skin slightly damp with the effort of your love. You like this, being the little spoon, hiding your face in her neck like you’re hiding from the world, though you vaguely recall a time when it was usually her in your arms.
As you’re staggering on the edge of sleep, Wanda’s fingers gently massage your scalp, her lips dropping soft, pensive kisses on your forehead. You're almost out, but one last question keeps you from drifting off entirely.
“Wanda, that spell earlier that shrunk the boys—what was that about?” you mumble, your words slurring into the dream nipping at your consciousness.
Wanda’s laughter rumbles through her chest, nudging you slightly from your drowsy state.
“Come on, tell me,” you coax, giving her side a playful pinch to keep her talking.
“It’s embarrassing,” she mumbles, her face turning a delightful shade of pink again that spreads down her neck and chest. Her coy reaction wakes you up some more. As a twisted kind of payback, you run your tongue rough over her nipple, snatching a sharp gasp from her. Moving up, you hold her flushed cheek, making sure she’s looking right at you. Your thigh presses between hers, and it doesn’t take long before she’s wet and ready again.
“Are you going to tell me, or do you plan on sleeping with a wet pussy tonight?” you whisper, brushing your lips against the corner of her mouth. Under different circumstances, Wanda would scold you for your crudeness, but right now, she's too worked up to care. Your dirty mouth has always been one of the most irritating yet irresistible things about you. Even having kids hasn’t changed that.
“I was trying to... enchant your...” she starts, but then your hand tightens on her butt, spurring her subtle grinding movements. By this time, she’s practically dripping onto the sheets, her thoughts scattering as the tightening sensation below her stomach builds.
“My what?” you push, smirking as you watch her fumble for words. You hoist her leg, resting it on your shoulder, laying her wide open. You slide two fingers inside her, fucking her slowly while your thumb brutally circles her clit. As she hesitates to answer, you hook in another finger, drawing a sharp cry of pleasure from Wanda. Your gaze stays locked on your wife, a part of you as surprised as she might be at your boldness tonight.
All day, she’s haunted every corner of your mind, fantasizing about stealing a quick, desperate moment while the twins are asleep or at Agnes’s. But there’s been something—an unnameable restraint—holding you back from indulging those wicked impulses. It isn’t until the boys are asleep, the house quiet, that those invisible chains start to loosen. That’s when you can finally allow yourself to desire Wanda the way you really want to. The way you’ve always been meant to.
“Your... clit,” Wanda finally spits out, seeing you've drifted off, stuck in your head. “I thought I could make it... well, longer. Like a...” She chokes on the words, too embarrassed to finish.
“Like a cock?” you throw out crudely, looking down at her impishly.
Wanda nods, mortified but also a little defiant. “Wanted you to fuck me with it,” she mumbles, finding her backbone now that the secret's in the open.
“I am fucking you,” you whisper hotly right into her ear. “But if you want it like that, all you have to do is say the word.”
Wanda clenches around you at the thought of doing it like that in the near future, her breath hitching. “Please,” she mewls, the word dripping with need.
“Good girl,” you growl, cranking up the pace as you drive your fingers harder inside her, making her gasp and arch towards you. “You can come.”
With a choked whimper, Wanda surrenders, her body seizing as her orgasm washes over her. She soaks your wrist, the clear fluid trickling down onto the sheets, but you don't stop, pushing through every pulse of her release until she's quaking, utterly wrecked beneath you. You patiently wait until her spasms subside before slowly pulling your fingers away.
Wanda's hand shoots out, stopping your movements. “Stay,” she implores, sounding like she's on the verge of tears. You're momentarily startled by her reaction, concerned something might be wrong. Swiftly, you slide your fingers back where they belong, nestled deep inside her.
“Okay, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, pushing back the damp strands of hair sticking to her forehead with your free hand. Exhaustion begins to cloud your senses as you sink down beside Wanda, still keeping your hand where she wants it.
“I'm sorry for needing you so much,” Wanda murmurs, her voice shaky with tears you can't see, your cheek pressed against the pillow beside hers.
“Don't be,” you mumble, half-lost to sleep as she clings to you more tightly. “I’m here.”
“You love me,” she says, a hint of wonder, of fear.
You nod, lips brushing the nape of her neck. “And you love me,” you murmur back, your eyes slipping shut. “I'm not going anywhere, Wanda.”
“For now,” she whispers to herself, once your breathing evens out in sleep.
Tears betray her then, and she clamps a hand over her mouth to keep quiet. But just before her sobs fully break free, she flicks a finger, a thin red wisp of magic ensuring you stay deep in sleep.
With you unaware, Wanda surrenders to her grief.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff x you#wanda x you#wanda maximoff#unbetad#my writing#my fic#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen#wanda maximoff fanfiction#oneshots#fic request#wandavision#monica rambeau#darcy lewis#jimmy woo#All Of Your Pieces#AOYP
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Pierced Through The Heart
Hello my ducklings! Welcome to Pierced Through The Heart (I’m writing a second part it’s okay 🫶) friends to lovers, piercing artist h, artist Y/N, fluffy and smutty and all the fun stuff!
Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings
WC- 8.7k
Warnings- smut, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, h has tongue and lip piercings
“Finally! Hey.” An easy smile lit up his face as he watched her walk into his flat. It was always welcome to see her enter like she owned the place- she very well could, if she wanted to.. Looking her over with what he hoped were at least slightly concealed heart eyes, he lifted his hand for her to sit next to him on the well loved sofa. “Where have you been, gorgeous? Off hiding away?”
It had been a bit since they’d gotten together so when she had texted him asking if he was busy tonight, he had scrambled to make sure his place was clean and he could appear as nonchalant as possible when he texted her when he texted her to come over- even if his heart had been in his ass when she gave her ETA.
“Ugh.” Y/N groaned, stretching her legs out as she took a seat right next to him as he so graciously offered. “I got a huge fucking commission and it’s taken me ages. M’happy about it, don’t get me wrong, but I feel a bit over my head a bit. I needed to get a head start on it so I didn’t fall behind.” Sometimes she did get in her head about work so it made sense, though it didn’t make him miss her any less.
Harry nodded, tapping his fingers against his thigh. “I get it, babe. S’important and you've got to take care of your work. I just missed having you around.” He pouted playfully, putting his arm around her “But hey, you're here now.”
“Exactly.” She smiled tiredly, leaning her head on his shoulder. His cologne was a comfort she hadn’t realized she needed- as well as the simple concept of human touch. Being locked up in her studio as she chipped away at the commissions often had her forgetting how much both her body and mind actually craved a cuddle or two. “Where's the roommate tonight?”
Harry shrugged, his hand tracing lazy circles on her shoulder. “He's out. Some party or another. You know how it is with Kev. Always living life on the edge.” He chuckled, but there was a hint of worry in his voice. It wouldn’t be long before he went off the deep end- but that wasn’t a discussion for tonight.
“Yeah...” It was hard. His roommate was a bit much, so it was better they were alone, but she felt bad for feeling that way. “Did you order the food yet? Or were you waiting for me?”
Harry smiled, his fingers tightening slightly on her shoulder in a little squeeze. It felt so good to have her close to him again. Thankfully she was just as happy to be cuddly with him and didn’t seem to be weirded out by her friend’s overt clinginess- or didn’t show it- because he felt slightly pathetic with how much he’d missed her presence. “I ordered already, love. Should be arriving any minute now.” He took a glance down at her, his eyes soft with… something. She couldn’t tell quite what it was, but she’d seen it a few times. “I've got everything set up just the way you like it.”
“Ugh. You’re a godsend.” Wrapping her arms around him she hugged him tight, feeling a little bit of pressure roll off of her shoulders. He was always so good at things like that. taking care of her, making her feel relaxed, always being one step ahead. “You are the absolute best. I hope you know that.”
Harry chuckled, wrapping his arms around her in return and relishing in the feeling of her initiating the embrace before pulling back. It wasn’t that he wanted to, nor did he fully, but he needed to attempt some semblance of normalcy. “I do my best, babe. Just want to make sure you're taken care of, that's all.” The man smiled down at her, his fingers trailing through her hair. Just couldn’t fucking help it, could he? “And honestly, I love doing things for you.”
Harry had never considered himself much for taking care of people prior, tending to be more of a lone wolf in most aspect of his life, but when he met Y/N it had all… just come out. He loved being the one making sure she was smiling. Making sure she was well fed, warm, feeling comfortable in his presence. It gave him a sense of purpose, he thinks. The smiles were reward enough, but making her feel comfortable in his company was the ultimate goal. It's why he made sure his roommate wasn’t going to be here tonight. Y/N was too polite to say he made her a little uneasy, but he was attentive to her and receptive to her feelings. Her body language never seemed at ease when he was around-‘so he eliminated that sort of issue
“And that’s why you’re above everyone else.” Y/N mumbled, keeping her eyes closed as he ran his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck. “That feels incredible, by the way.”
Harry blushed to himself, grateful she couldn’t see it right now. It was weird, feeling such a sense of pride wash over him over something so simple. He loved being the one she turned to, the one she felt most comfortable with. Hearing her praise him made him feel like he was genuinely doing something right. “Ah, yeah?”
“Mhm.” The girl nodded. “Tell me about work, though. Any interesting piercings? Anyone pass out? Had that one weird guy come in again? I want to know it all.” She kept her cheek pressed to his shoulder as he continued the motions.
Harry let out a soft laugh, settling into the comfortable rhythm of running his fingers through the silky locks as he tried to think of something interesting enough to tell her. “Well, actually, there was this one guy who came in for his first ear piercing and he freaked the fuck out when he saw the needle. He started shaking and sweating and just about passed out cold on the chair.”
“For an ear piercing?” Y/N let out a choked laugh. “I try not to judge people but… that’s kind of an overreaction, isn’t it?”
Harry couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction. It was like her to be sweet about it and not judge, but he did sometimes. She was the only one who knew he really rolled his eyes at shit like that. He leaned down, pressing a small kiss to the crown of her head before pulling back to continue his story. “Yeah, I thought so too. But you should've seen the look on his face when I finally got the needle through.”
“Oi.” She winced. “Yeah, M’sure that was a joy to deal with.” Sarcasm laced her tone. “You have loads more patience than me. It’s why I work with as few people as possible.” Retail and service has never bode well with her, and when she had fallen into her own artwork she had counted her blessings that it meant she didn’t have to work with people day to day.
Harry smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he listened to her voice. He loved her sarcasm, her wit, her everything, but he tried to keep that sort of fondness off of his face the best he could. “That's part of why I like bein�� close with you, actually. You're low-maintenance and always so easy to be around. A little grumpy, but s’cute.”
“Grumpy?” Her nose wrinkled, but she couldn’t deny it. The girl did her absolute best to be as sweet as she could but one of the things that made her tick was stupidity, and that was something people had to deal with in abundance when they worked in those industries. She was a little bit grumpy when it came to people. “I…wish I could deny those allegations, but I can’t. But in my defense, people shouldn’t be asking so many stupid questions. I worry more and more that people lose common sense as the days go by.”
Harry laughed, pulling her a little tighter against his side. "Grumpy and worried about the loss of common sense, huh? That's my girl." He paused, his fingers still gently fiddling with the ends of her hair. "But even with all that, you're still the most comfortable person for me to be around."
“Really?” She looked at him in surprise. Her guess would have been maybe Mitch, or Connor. Not her. “How come? I mean, not that I’m not extremely flattered and have to calm my ego at this moment because I can literally feel it growing out of my ears.”
Harry smiled, feeling his tummy twist slightly as he looked down at her, "Because you're just... you, ya know? You're honest, and a bit grumpy-which we already established as cute-, and you don't put up with any of my shit." It was refreshing to have someone who cared about you enough to call you out on shit, and that’s what he needed. It was an interesting juxtaposition to see her soft doe-like eyes looking up at him with her head tilted, telling him that he’s absolutely ‘full of shit’. Harry had been known to be a bit arrogant at times and she had taken that level way down, in a good way. "And you're the only person who can make me laugh without even trying."
“H… you’re gonna make me blush.” She playfully batted at his chest, but felt the swirl of warmth in her tummy. It was a true compliment all things considered. Harry seemed open, but he kept people at an arm's length usually. She had noticed that he didn’t do it with her which she had always special, but hearing it out loud made her feel even more so.
Harry's eyes softened slightly as he looked at her. "You're the only one who can see past all the layers and shit and just get me, you know?" He leaned in just a bit, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "And I fucking love it."
It was that moment, she would come to reflect, where the tension started. The kiss to the cheek, the compliments. It had started the loaded tension, the sexual undertone for the rest of the night.
Later on, after the food had been eaten and settled in their bellies and the second episode had ended and the third had begun, she realized how close she had gotten to him through the night. Her legs over his thighs, his thumb tracing over her knee. His eyes were on the screen giving her a chance to observe his beautiful fucking face for a moment without feeling the normal intimidation she would from him staring right back at her. The lip ring, the sharp curve of his jaw, his pretty mouth, the slope of his nose- a modern Apollo. It had been no secret that he was good looking but it was harder to ignore tonight. It was always hard to ignore just how beautiful the man was, but feeling it now, seeing it up close and personal felt like a privilege. Her body flushed when she noticed his eyes on her- he caught her staring, his eyebrow raised at her, but didn’t say a word.
Harry moved his hand from her knee, tracing his fingers up her thigh slowly before resting it there again. He leaned in closer, his lips curling as he whispered to her. "You like what you see, love? Wanna take a picture? I’ll pose for you, even. Let the pretty artist do her thing. Think I’d be a good muse?" The hint of tease was in there but he was waiting for her reaction. Feeling his own want for her bubbling over, simmering under his fingertips.
“You’re really handsome, H. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that, but you are.” Ever the blunt person, Y/N didn’t shy away from telling him that he was beautiful. That was the god’s honest truth. Harry was factually gorgeous and she had always thought so, as did most human beings whenever they went out. He commanded a room without even trying, attracting eyes like magnets- only his being the opposite pole.
Harry's smirk grew wider at her words, his hand still resting on her thigh. "Handsome, huh?" He repeated, his voice huskier than she had heard it before. It sent a bit of a zing to her tummy because- that was hot. There was a quick glance at the TV before looking back at her, his eyes locking onto hers. "You're pretty fucking stunning yourself, you know that?"
The air between them was static, the tension thick and palpable. Harry's hand on her thigh was a constant reminder of his presence, of his touch. Her legs were draped over his, their bodies close, touching in a way they had before a million times but it felt… different. The charge was there. He could feel it and he was sure she could too. What exactly changed, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps the heart had grown fonder over their bit of time apart, or perhaps the dam was finally overflowing and breaking against the weight of trying to hold back desires hidden behind the walls- either way, he was going to find out. The sound of the TV in the background was barely audible over the pounding of their hearts, but he could feel it in his throat.
Harry had been pining for her for what felt like an eternity. He'd watch her from afar, his heart aching with every smile she shared with someone else. The only true explanation he could come to was that he loved her, he realized. He had loved her for a long time now. He ached for her, his heart hurting every time she mentioned dating apps or hookups in the past because fuck, he wanted to be the one she was talking about, the one she was laughing with. He wanted to be her world, her everything. No one would expect the man to be a romantic, but he was. Maybe she’d brought it out of him, but he felt completely at her mercy and she had no idea just how tightly wound he was around her tiniest finger.
“You think so?” She felt a little shy with that compliment. It wasn’t often that she got like that, but Harry had a way of pulling it out of her. “Stunning is a big word, but thank you.” Licking over her lip, she looked down to his tattooed wrist, running her finger over the ink. “I’m glad you invited me to hang out tonight.”’
Harry's heart flipped at her shy reaction. Damn, she was so fucking cute. He wanted to lean in, brush his lips over hers and take a taste of her. The way she was looking at his tattoos, running her finger over them was driving him crazy. The sensation was something he’d dreamt about, post coitial bliss with her hands all over him in the best way. He wanted to feel all of it, all of her, everywhere
"You're more than fucking stunning, you know that?" Harry's voice was raspy as he spoke, volume low as if trying to keep it private for them even if they were already alone. He shifted in his seat, his hand on her thigh flexing a little as he leaned in closer to her.
Her heart stuttered in her chest as she looked at him, throat tight. She had an idea what was happening but she hadn’t anticipated it actually being any reality, let alone one that would be happening tonight. Part of her wanted to shy away but she couldn’t. Her body wouldn’t let her. Eyes curious and round, her head tilted in question as he looked right back at her.
Harry noticed the way she was looking at him, head falling back slightly as he let it a light groan. "Fuck, don't look at me like that, please." He begged. He couldn't take it, seeing her so nervous and shy.
“Like what?” Her eyes widened slightly but she made no move to shift away from him. What was she doing? What was happening? And why did she want him to keep going, keep touching her, why did she feel like she was lightheaded from the attention he was paying to her? Had he always looked at her like this?
Harry's eyes were locked onto hers, his gaze intense. "Like you're confused. Like you don’t know how fuckin’ gorgeous I find you." He admitted, his hand on her thigh trembling slightly. "I don't know how much more of this I can take, you're fucking killing me."
Warm fingertips trailed over his wrist and down his hand, brushing over his wrists and back up as she waited for him to react. The anticipation was killing her, sitting perfectly still as she decided to wait. to let him take the lead. “Why am I killing you?” She was playing dumb. The sexual tension had risen up, her skin hot from it, but she wanted to hear it from him.
Harry sucked in a breath as she trailed her fingertips over his wrist, his heart racing in his chest. He couldn't take it anymore, he had to tell- had to show her. To let out everything that was building up inside of him. "Because I want you so goddamn bad." His voice was hoarse, laced with fervor, his eyes pleading with her to understand. He couldn't help the way he felt, the way he had always felt about her. "I've wanted you for so long, been pining for you.. it's driving me insane."
“You have?” Her head tilted, hair falling over her shoulder as he dropped that bomb on her. Y/N hadn’t had any real idea that he had wanted her, had always sort of thought maybe he just liked that she was easy to hang out with and that they’d meshed together really well, but the knowledge that he was pining over her sent the hoard of butterflies into her stomach. “How.. for how long?”
Harry's jaw clenched, knowing it was time to confess. There was no use in hiding it anymore, even if she was going to reject him. It was about to burst from his seams, leak from his lips regardless. "Since we’ve met," He admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "I’ve been fucking useless over you. Used t’watch you, wonder what it would be like to have you, to hold you, to kiss you." He looked at her with desperate eyes.
"I'd see you talking to that asshole ex of yours, and I'd just want to fucking rip him apart and keep you all to myself. Knew I could treat you better, make you feel better, give you all the shit he couldn’t. Heard you cry too many times over people that aren’t worth it and I can give you all the shit you need. I know I can." He admitted, his face flushing with anger and jealousy. "I've tried to ignore it, to move on, but I can't."
"You have no idea how many times I've imagined telling you, but I didn’t want to fuck things up between things up between us. You’ve felt safe with me. I didn’t want you to feel like I’ve been friends with you as some fucking attempt to get into your pants because that isn’t it. I’ll be your friend regardless, but I just need a shot. Please. Just give me one chance t’see." Harry felt a little pathetic for his approach but he didn’t have much control over it. It was all in her hands now.
Her breathing hitched as she listened, her cunt getting slightly wet at the way he looked at her, at how he spoke. losing that bit of a veil he had over him, showing her how he had felt. Finally, It felt like that part she couldn’t figure out was coming to the light. “Harry…” she breathed, feeling his hand reach for her jaw. It was welcomed, his warm fingertips tilting her head up.
She didn’t know he had that in him, but she really fucking liked it.
Gripping her chin firmly, his thumb brushing over her pouted lower lip as he looked into her eyes. "Shut up and kiss me." He commanded, leaving no room for argument. Harry didn't wait for her to respond. Leaning in, his free hand came up to wrap around her waist, pulling her close to him as he crushed their lips together. It was rough, passionate and intense, a hunger she hadn't sensed from him before- and she strangely loved it.
Harry’s lips were demanding, claiming hers as if she belonged to him. His tongue pushed past her lips, tangling with hers in a heated kiss that left her gasping. He kissed her like he was starving for her, like he hadn't eaten in days and she was the only thing that could satisfy him. His lips were bruising, hungry, insistent, molding against hers with a fierce intensity that took her breath away. The tip of his tongue delved into her mouth, probing, tasting, owning, his moan vibrating against her lips as he deepened the kiss.
She melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck as she returned it with equal fervor. Her hands fisted in his hair, holding him close as she surrendered to the overwhelming hunger he stirred within her. She whimpered into the kiss, her body trembling with need, her heart racing in her chest.
Y/N could feel just how much he meant it, how much he had yearned for her. She could taste it on his tongue as he held her to his body, resting her on his thighs. He was greedy with her, taking and taking and taking- but she didn’t mind at all. If anything she flowed into it, melting into the feeling.
The way she fed into the kiss, so willingly and completely, made his heart race and his head spin. He could taste her surrender, her desire, her longing for him and he drank it in eagerly, as if he could never get enough of her. Her body melted into his embrace as her lips parted further, inviting him in deeper. He could feel her heart racing against his chest, her hands gripping his hair almost painfully, but he hardly cared.
Her body was pliant, her breathing uneven, as he continued to delve into her mouth. He could feel the way she shifted on his lap, her legs bracketing his hips as she slowly began to move herself against him.
A low groan rumbled in his chest, the sound almost primal as he felt her shifting on his lap. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard and it only served to drive him further into madness. He wanted more of her, all of her, every single part of her. “Baby…” The nickname fell out of her mouth as a breathless sigh. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”
He pulled back from the kiss slightly, his breath coming in ragged pants as he stared down at her. Her eyes were glazed over with desire, her lips swollen and so prettily puffy from the intensity of their kissing- he wanted this to be the state of them every fucking day. Why was this only the first time he’d gotten the privilege of getting to see this? "I can't... I can't think straight when you're like this,"
Uneven breaths filtered the room, the TV show long forgotten behind them. She, too, was unable to think straight as she looked into his eyes. It was gorgeous, he was fucking gorgeous, looking fucked out just from a kiss alone. “Huh?” Y/N was hazy herself. This wasn’t what she had expected from coming over tonight but she had no complaints. Her mouth felt like it was buzzing and her clit was throbbing as she sat against him, his large hands keeping her still otherwise she’d continue her ministrations on top of him.
Harry reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek in a gentle touch. "Just looking at you, baby, makes me lose my damn mind. I need you to focus on me for a second, okay?" He swallowed hard as he tried to calm himself down. "You're fuckin’ stunning. Driving me crazy, really fucking crazy. The way you move against me... I need more of it." The man sighed out, his fingers trailing down her throat gently, petting her.
Harry's mind was swimming with need, a deep and intense desire to have her, to make her his and his alone. He wanted to feel her body pressed against his, the heat rolling off of her in waves. He wanted to kiss her, to touch her, to taste her. “But I don’t want t’just fuck you. I want you. Want you to be my girl.”
Holding her eyes with his own, he thumbed over her swollen bottom lip and watched as it snapped back to place as he released it. “I want t’do the whole thing. The dates, the flowers, everything you want. I don’t want to ruin this friendship but fuck, darling… I just want you to be mine.” He swallowed thickly, watching her reaction. “I’m willing to work for that title… but I can’t hold back anymore. Can’t keep pretending that I’m not dying t’hold you and kiss this perfect fucking mouth.”
She looked up at him, eyes wide and lips parted. Her cheeks were hot under the skin, chest rising and falling with every deep breath she took. It felt like he’d stolen her breath and her thoughts as he confessed to her, making her blink at him a few times. She looked completely lost in his words and the way he looked at her as he spoke them. The air around was thick with tension and desire.
There wasn’t a thought that needed to be had to confirm that she wanted him back, though. She always adored him, but he’d never seemed like the relationship type. Never showed his interest in the way she had anticipated. It had taken her by surprise, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t happy about it.
Without thinking, she reached up and cupped his face, her thumb brushing over his berry hued lips and running over the piercing as she searched his eyes. She could see the raw emotion in them, the way he was barely holding on to his control. And it broke her heart, in a way, because she was so completely aware of how painful it could be to hold back emotions for someone. “I wish you hadn’t hidden it for so long.” Softly, she used her other hand to push back his hair. “I can’t lie and say this isn’t a surprise… but I am more than willing to give it a shot.” Indulging in him, she leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. “Especially when you kiss me like you just did.”
She deepened the kiss, parting her lips for him and wrapping her arms around his neck in a desperate attempt to get closer to him. Harry groaned against her mouth, pulling her flush against him as he slipped his tongue into her mouth.
That was the answer he needed. He had imagined her rejection a million times, her acceptance a few times more, but nothing could compare to the actual feeling of it. Having her in his lap and the overwhelming giddy feeling working its way through his limbs as he tried to show it through his actions.
The kiss was needy, full of the longing and passion that had been building up over the months. He was rough and gentle at the same time, leaving her dizzy as he trailed kisses from her lips to her jaw. “Good. So it’s settled… no more silly dates with useless boys. You’re gonna give me a shot to show you just how much I can appreciate you.”
“Mhm.” Y/N nearly purred, rolling her head to the side as he kissed over her skin and down to her throat. It had always been sensitive for her, but feeling the cool brush of his lip ring, and then the metallic ball of his tongue piercing brush her hot skin had her shiver in his arms.
Harry smirked, knowing he was getting to her head. His hands roamed her body, pulling her in even closer as he sucked on a soft spot right under her ear. God, she was fucking soft wherever he touched her, he couldn’t get enough of her. He sucked hard on the spot, his nose brushing against her skin as he inhaled her scent deeply. His other hand came up to wrap around her throat, applying just a bit of pressure as he tilted her head to the side, giving him better access to her neck.
“Fuck.” Y/N felt her second heartbeat between her thighs, the strong hand and thick fingers holding her still. Positioning her where he wanted her. His rings added a similar sensation to his piercings, the mix of hot and cold working her up.
He hummed at her response, his hand tightening around her throat just slightly as he moved down to bite at her collarbone. A low growl rumbled in his chest, feeling the way her body trembled under him as he pressed a kiss over the racing pulse on her neck. Harry pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his own dark and intense as he spoke in a low, rough tone. "M’gonna mark you up, m’love. Every inch of your skin is gonna have my fingerprints, my bites, my kisses. You're gonna be my girl, and everyone's gonna fuckin’ know it."
“Yeah.” She hummed, grinning as his hand loosened slightly on her throat. As toxic as it may be, she ate up the possessive words, wanting to let him do that very thing.
Harry let out a low, pleased noise at her words, his hips rocking forward as he pressed against her heat. He kissed her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth as he gripped her hip with one hand and reached down to undo his pants with the other. His poor cock needed to breath, aching with need as he finally got her exactly where he wanted her.
"How do you like to be touched, baby?" He whispered into her ear, before sucking on the lobe gently and nipping it, smirking to himself as he felt her shudder in his arms. He pulled back to look at her, his eyes shining. “Hm? I want t’know. Want t’make you the happiest fuckin’ girl. Can do anything y’want.”
“I…” She had trouble finding her words. This was not at all the sort of thing she’d anticipated coming over tonight, but she was loving every second of it. Harry… wanting her? It seemed like it was one of those dreams, one of those things that sounded nice in theory but would never happen- and yet here he was. Asking how she liked being touched because he wanted to be the one doing it. “I like when you held my throat… and when you bit me. And when you held my jaw.”
Harry's lips quirked into a half grin and he nodded. He pulled back to look at her, his thumb tracing over her jaw where he had just held it so gently. He leaned down and bit the skin there lightly, feeling her shiver under him. Her reaction was immediate and visceral. The moment his teeth sank into her jaw, she let out a soft, needy whine, her eyes fluttering closed as her body relaxed into his grip. Her leg tightened around his waist, her free hand reaching up to gently touch the spot where he'd bitten her.
Her whole body seemed to melt against him, her back arching as she pressed herself closer, seeking more of that delicious pain. A soft, high-pitched noise escaped her lips, somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, as she tilted her head to the side, offering him better access to her neck as she felt his nose drag down the side of it.
She was completely lost in the sensation, her mind going blank as all her focus shifted to the feeling of his teeth on her skin. Her fingers curled into his shirt, her nails digging in slightly as she held on for dear life, her other hand still resting on the spot he'd bitten, gently massaging it. “That feels so good.” She exhaled, the feelings washing over her. “I love how you touch me, H.”
Harry smiled against her skin, his teeth grazing over her jaw as he spoke. "I love touching you too, sweetheart. You're so fuckin’ responsive, for me.” He kissed the spot he'd bitten, soothing it with his lips before pulling back to look at her again.
His bulge rocked between her thighs, his hand moving to cup her face. She could feel his want for her, his affection. Harry hadn’t been joking in the slightest that he wanted to be hers, and that was something she hadn’t experienced before.
"You still haven't let me make you mine, properly," Harry said, a hint of a pout on his lips. "I want all of you, Y/N." He moved himself against her again, the cock in his pants rubbing against her aching cunt. "Are y’gonna let me have you?"
“Y-Yeah.” She nodded, shy smile on her face. There was nothing she wanted more in the moment, actually.
“Don’t want you to regret it, though.” Harry murmured, face sobering. As much as he wanted her, he wanted to make sure this was what she truly wanted above anything else. “We don’t have to go too far if you don’t want to.”
“I wanna.” Y/N hadn’t been fucked in a while, no, but she trusted him. Hell, he’d waxed near poetry about how he wanted to be hers and vice versa. There was no one night stand needed to get off. Harry could do it- and if the things she had heard were true, he could do it very well. “Want you to fuck me.”
Harry's eyes widened at her confession, his hand lingering on her cheek for a moment before he let go. "Well," he said, swallowing thickly. "I can certainly do that."
He was practically vibrating with excitement, his heart racing in his chest as he held her close. The thought of finally being able to claim her as his own, to be the one to make her feel good and cry out his name, was almost too much for him to handle. "I've wanted to be with you for so fuckin’ long." Harry murmured against her skin, his breath warm against her. "I've thought about you every night as I've fallen asleep, imagining what it would be like to finally have you, Y/N. You’ve got no idea"
“Then have me.” Y/N could hardly believe it, but she needed it just as badly now. Her body was hot and achy and her cunt was wet and felt so empty- Harry would fix it. He was the only one that could. “Touch wherever you want. I trust you.”
The declaration of trust meant more to him than she would probably ever realize. It gave him the confidence to go for it. Harry's hand immediately moved between her legs, rubbing her through the fabric of her pants. The man groaned as he felt how wet she was, his fingers tracing over her cunt as he breathed against her lips. "Oh, fuck, baby." he whispered in awe.
“Take them off.” her plea was a little whiny but it seemed to make him happy with how he smiled against her lips. “Please… I want to feel you touch me with nothing stopping it. Need it.”
Harry's smile was wicked as he reached for the waistband of her pants, quickly adjusting her so he could tug them down her legs along with her underwear. There was very little time to waste when it came to getting to have her. This had been his wet dream, his fantasy, and he wasn’t going to waste it. He sat back up and looked at her, his eyes roaming over her bare pussy before he knelt down in front of her with a husky groan.
“What?” She felt shy with him staring at her, the most vulnerable she had ever felt in front of him. The hunger in his eyes was visible and she knew he liked what he saw, but his quiet observation was unnerving. She watching the silver glint of his piercing glint as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, strong, ringed hands gently pressing her thighs open and black polished fingers digging into her skin.
“M’sorry, baby.” he crooned. “Don’t mean to stare, but…. I’ve been waiting so long. M’not even sure this is real.” Any bit of control was completely gone. He leaned forward, pressing his face against the plush of her lower tummy, inhaling her scent before he looked up at her with those starving eyes again. "Fuck, you smell so good. You’ve no idea." he murmured before placing a kiss to her mound. “Wanna eat you up.”
Where she found the nerve, she had no clue- but the moment she had it, she let it go. “Do it.”
Her words were the last thing he needed before he gave into her- happily. Harry's hands gripped her thighs greedily as he buried his mouth between her legs, indulging in what he’d been wanting to taste for ages. He lightly kissed over her clit and nuzzled her as her felt her jolt at the feeling, letting her settle into it for a moment before getting into it. The cool metal ball of his tongue piercing tapping over her clit had her shivering, a shaky gasp leaving her swollen lips as her eyes fell closed.
It was overwhelming, to say the least. Harry's tongue felt hot and slick as it lathed over her pussy- the contrast in temperatures between him and her sensitive flesh making her squirm. He explored her, leaving nowhere untouched as she gripped the cushion next to her, taking full advantage of his permission to taste before he settled into a slow, gentle rhythm of lapping at her cunt. The man was good- almost too good.
She could feel herself sinking into the cushion beneath her as he ate her out, his tongue dipping into her pussy and licking at her entrance before swirling around her clit. His hands were gentle on her thighs, rings cool to the touch and fingertips digging into her skin as he pushed them open wider for him. He groaned against her, eyes peering up at her.The vibrations against her pussy sent tremors through her body. “Look at me, baby. Let me see your pretty eyes.”
The view was something else completely. Looking down at him, she felt herself nearly lose it altogether. It didn’t seem fair to have someone look that good doing such a filthy act, but it only seemed to make perfect sense for him. Harry exuded sex, and his sensual nature had always made her a bit curious in the past- but this was other worldly. His nose rubbed against her clit, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh, hair a mess, as hazy, dark green peered up at her from where they were so comfortably buried between her legs. Like they were made to be there.
Her hands fell to his hair, back arching as his tongue brushed her entrance again, breathing hitched as he nuzzled into her cunt, not caring about any mess as he pressed his tongue into her, nose brushing her clit with every movement. “Oh, fuck.” Her voice was a choked mess as she looked down at him in shock, not at all expecting this out of him. She should have, she should have known he was a filthy fuck, but she’d apparently unleashed something in him.
His hair was a wild mess as she gripped it, pulling him closer as he devoured her. He made happy noises against her, moving up to momentarily suck on her clit before plunging his tongue back inside her. She could feel his scruff scratching against her inner thighs, a rough sensation that made her clench around his tongue. It was animalistic, desperate in a way she had never felt before.
Harry hadn’t felt this deprived in his life. He hadn’t liked a woman this much before either, hadn’t wanted her this badly. He needed some relief, especially with her rocking her damn cunt against his face. A low groan rumbled in his chest as he pulled his sweats down, tugging his embarrassingly hard cock out and started to stroke. His hips rocked in time with the rhythm of his tongue, hand moving faster as she arched her back, pulling him closer. He could feel her getting closer, body trembling beneath him.
“H…” she panted, gently tugging him away from her cunt. “Inside me. I want to cum with you inside me.”
Harry groaned, a whine slipping from his lips as he pulled himself away from her pussy, a string of saliva connecting his tongue to her entrance before breaking away.
“M’not done with that. You taste so fucking good.” He mumbled, leaning himself up. His hands were gentle as he adjusted her to make them both comfortable. “Gonna make it good for you, baby. I promise.” Another time he would take his time, make love to her properly. Spend hours with her in a bed when they both had patience- but right now? He knew the both of them needed relief, and they needed it now. Taking a shaky breath, he positioned the tip of his cock at her entrance, the head pressing against her soaked lips. He looked up at her, eyes wild as he pushed forward, the tip popping inside her. He let out a satisfied groan as he sunk himself in to the hilt, her tight pussy squeezing him the way he knew she would.
She gasped, the way her walls closed in tighter on him as he sunk to the base was a small slice of heaven for him. He closed his eyes, riding out the pleasure of it for a moment. He could feel her body reacting in kind, legs trembling. “It’s okay, yeah? You’re okay?” He looked down at her, making sure she didn’t have any discomfort on her face.
“I’m okay.” She sighed, gripping onto his forearm. “I’m so okay. I want it all. You can give it to me.” Lightly dragging her nails down his skin, she knew she could handle it. It’s how she liked it- how she wanted him to give it to her. Y/N wanted Harry exactly how he wanted to give it because she had full confidence he was going to give it to her good.
“Alright, sweetheart. Jus’ hold on t’me then.” He pulled out barely, just the head remaining before thrusting himself back in, making her jolt under him. Deep- he was so deep, making her gasp as the pleasured fullness was felt to its extent. This was exactly what they needed. His hands grabbed her hips and he started moving in earnest, every thrust baring his need for her to cum around him. “Don’t have to hold back with me, sweet girl. Gonna make sure you feel good all night.”
She was a vision of beauty, legs spread wide as he fucked into her, the sound of their skin thudding together echoing through the room. Tears of pleasure slowly pooled in her waterline as he fucked her deep, his balls slapping against her ass with every thrust. Slow, deep, passion. It was palpable.
Not overly rough, no. Not at all. It was hot and heavy in the best possible way, making her eyes roll back. He wasn’t using her as a toy, but showing her how much he wanted her with his body. There was no mistaking it. Harry meant what he said. He wanted her, and he was speaking through his body. She heard him loud and fucking clear. Hopefully, he was listening back.
The room was filled with the sounds of their sex, the slap of skin, the wet squelch of his cock sinking into her over and over. She was shaking, her nails digging into his biceps as he pounded into her, the force of his thrusts making the aged sofa squeak. If it was any other scenario, he’d be cautious- but he was finally getting the woman he had been dreaming of around his cock.
Her whole body was a trembling mess, her breasts bouncing with each thorough thrust. Her back arched off the couch as he hit that sweet spot inside her, her walls clamping down on him like a vice. She let out a mewl, a saccharine call of his name as the intense pleasure washed over her. “Harry- Harry if you keep going M’gonna cum.” It was a frantic warning. Her mind couldn’t figure out if it was too much or not, but she didn’t want it to stop.
He couldn't help himself, his thrusts became even more urgent as he felt her walls fluttering around him, signaling her impending orgasm. He grabbed her face, his thumb pressing against her lips, shushing her as he fucked into with a blissed out smile. "Shh, m’dream girl, let it happen. Cum on my cock. Been dreaming of you for ages.
Let me have it."
She tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled moan of his name as her orgasm hit her. White hot pleasure hitting her blood as the tears left her waterline when her eyes squeezed shut, she dug her nails into him with a garbled whimper. Her body shook, her pussy fluttering around his cock as he continued to fuck her through it, prolonging her pleasure.
Harry leaned down, resting his forehead against hers as he felt his own climax building within him- especially with the feel of her nails digging into him and her own orgasm. "Fuck.. You're so fuckin’ perfect, so good, I'm gonna cum.." He whispered his final warning, groaning against her skin.
“Please.” Y/N whispered, dragging her nails up his arms and over his shoulders. “Give it to me. M’on the pill.” Her lips brushed his ear. “I want to feel it. You’ve been so nice to me tonight and I love it. Cum for me how you want. Anywhere you w-want.”
Harry was a mass of frayed nerve endings as he neared his release. His entire body felt like it was buzzing, his heart beating fast against his chest. The build up of pleasure in his balls and the slick feeling of her pussy made him feel as if he was on cloud nine.
His muscles tensed, and a low groan rumbled in his chest. He was so close. He could feel his orgasm building, coiling in the base of his spine, ready to explode- but her sensual coos into his ear and fingers down arms had been the breaking point. "I'm gonna cum so fucking hard," he gritted out, his voice strained with effort. “M’cumming for you, baby. G-Gonna give it all t’you and make you m-mine.” His words stuttered as he felt it start. His vision started to blur and his breath hitched in his throat as he thrust into her one final time, holding himself deep inside her as his orgasm ripped through him. His vision went white, his mind going blank as he emptied himself into her, his cock pulsing with each spurt of cum.
Catching his breath, he let himself sag into her as he felt her hand dragging up and down his back. Mutual comfort as she held him, helping him through his own orgasm as she wrapped a leg around him, making sure he felt steady as he checked in on her. His ears were sorta ringing in a good way, but he was chuffed. “Okay?” He cupped her cheek, stroking her heated skin. At her nod, he grinned widely. “Yeah? Okay- okay, good. Jus’, need to make sure you’re good. Hold on. Need t’make us more comfortable. I’ll clean up in a second.”
Ever so carefully, Harry pulled out of her, his softening cock slipping from her sensitive pussy. He cooed at the slight hiss she let out, apologizing as he grabbed a few tissues clumsily from the coffee table and wiped her the best he could as gathered her close on his lap, cradling her in his arms as he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, anywhere he could reach without breaking the tender moment. “That’s my girl. Fuck… you’re everything I want.”
Y/N had pushed away her crush on him when they’d first met, especially when they started to become closer friends- but this had been beyond her expectations. Harry had given her the fuck of her life all while claiming his devotion to her- something no one else had done before. She was borderline giddy as his hands stroke her, the rushed sex leaving their tops on and a true nod to the frantic passion they’d felt once the kissing had started.
A giggle left her throat as she peeled her eyes open to look at his flushed face and swollen lips, his eyes burning with an emotion she couldn’t place as she ran her hands over his shoulders. “We probably look so silly.” Harry’s pants around his ankles and hers off completely, both with just a shirt on.
Harry chuckled softly, his breath ghosting along her cheek as he spoke, his voice low and raspy from the intensity of their just-past fucking. The way she was looking at him was almost better than her moans had been.
“Silly, hmm?” Harry’s eyes took on a mischievous edge as his fingers traced the curve of her waist. He sat up on the couch, dragging her with him so she was straddling his lap. His roommate be damned, he wasn’t too concerned about the mess on the couch right now.
“Mhm.” Her smile faded into a soft grin. “We were a little eager, huh?”
Eager was an understatement, but Harry loved how cute she looked in this moment. The way she was sitting on top of him, all breathless and relaxed—it made him want to do it all over again, if only to see that look on her face.
Harry’s hand wandered to the back of her neck, his thumb gently tracing circles against her skin as he spoke. “I am eager.” He sobered slightly. “I meant what I said. I want you. I promise I’d be the best person you’ve ever dated. I’ll worship you every day and make sure you know how much you mean to me.”
He leaned in to press a soft kiss to her lips, his eyes still locked on hers. “I’ll make you laugh every day, be there for you through everything. And when it comes to the bedroom,” Harry paused, grinning slyly.
“Hush.” Y/N giggled, placing their lips back together for a longer kiss, slow and smooth as she pulled back. their lips made a soft clicking sound as she rubbed her nose against his. “So if you want to be my boyfriend…. does that mean you’ll give me free piercings?”
Harry let out a chuckle, his arms wrapping around her waist as he hugged her close. “Free piercings, exclusive attention, really bad jokes, and a love that’ll make your heart skip a beat. That’s the deal, love. But you have to promise me one thing in return.”
“Hm… what’s that?”
Harry would give her the world if she asked for it, probably, but he did have one stipulation. “No more waiting between commissions t’see you. You can set up here, or I can come see you after work. M’a little clingy, if you couldn’t tell. Deal?” “Deal.”
#jarofstyles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#piercerry#harry styles fic#harry one shot#harry styles au#harry styles fanfics#harry styles one shots#harry styles writer#harry smut#harry fluff
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Great blog but if all was not good with L and A why was he holding her in the water in Italy. Seemed off
Appreciate the question because it's one that's been on a lot of people's minds for months!
The relationship between Luke and Antonia will always be a mystery. We will never be privy to everything that happened between them. We will never know whether they were serious, casual, phony, simply part of the same friend group, whatever label you want to put on them.
Eventually I will write out my thoughts on Antonia -- because, trust me, I have some (and, no, they're not mean-spirited) -- but to make a long story short, some things to note that also "seem off" are:
Italy was roughly four months ago. We have not seen Luke and Antonia together since. The only interaction appears to be two likes per month from Luke on Antonia's grid.
Even if we're going to consider the Spanish resort pictures, we have to take into consideration that Antonia was removed from Luke's narrative. Luke seemingly filled that grid post with images that were Polin and/or Lukola coded (the two fingers -- that man will never be able to put up two fingers again without evoking a carriage scene; the chaise-style bench; the cake and its accompanying emojis). He also immediately came to the rescue by clarifying the cake picture (effectively squashing any accusations that he had removed Nicola from the cake). Regardless of whether Antonia was there, Luke removed her from his narrative. It was Antonia that tried to slip it back in with her October 25 post. The interesting thing there is that no one would understand her reference to being in Spain except...Lukolas. The general public wouldn't give that picture a second thought.
To my knowledge, Luke didn't like posts from third parties that included Antonia in them over the summer. For example, when Rory posted to his grid on July 6, 2024, he included pictures of Luke and Antonia (separate images). Luke did not like this post. Sienna posted the same day, with a picture that included Antonia. Luke didn't like that one either. I am not saying Luke has to like every post (in fact, I've blogged on this already), but it is something to consider.
After Papsmear, there was really no reason for Luke not to step up and "claim" (gross word, by the way) Antonia. The damage had been done. He could have protected her in some way from the fandom, but he chose to remain quiet. Wait, not quiet, he chose to post his I-Won't-Let-Cressida-Ruin-Our-Evening story.
To be honest, the entire Luke and Antonia situation has had me going back and forth for months. My advice to people is to look at things collectively. Do not look at a single event and decide, oh, yeah, that's the absolute final answer. Instead, use that single event (assuming you find it intriguing enough) as the starting point for your opinion on the matter. Remember to go backwards, forwards, and sideways in your analysis, and be willing to adjust your theory as you collect information.
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Hello! Here to say hi! Your post appeared on my scroll and I noticed you have just one, so I figured you might be new around here! Welcome to Tumblr! I hope you find your crowd soon enough! 💖
In the meantime, do you mind telling me something about Jason Todd? I've never been too deep into DC, but I recognize his name. I'd love to hear your headcannons/thoughts about him! 💖
Hi! Thanks for welcoming me :) I've actually been lurking on tumblr for a while before I finally got the confidence to start writing.
Here's a short basic rundown of Jason: Jason Todd is the second person to take the mantle of Robin after Dick Grayson. Batman caught him stealing the wheels off the Batmobile in a dark alleyway one night and took him in. He was more rebellious and he didn't like Batman's moral code. Fans actually voted to kill him off in the series. Jason would be beaten by the Joker with a crowbar and left to die with his mother inside a warehouse with a time bomb. He would later be resurrected by Talia Al Ghul in the Lazarus Pit and took the mantle of Red Hood. He would use guns and violence when it came to crime fighting. When he found out that Batman didn't avenge him in any way, he felt betrayed and let his anger out on Gotham's criminals. He believed that they deserved a worse punishment.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Jason Todd Headcannons
He loves to bake, especially cookies. He'll bake other pastries every now and then, but his go to is cookies. It's something he'll never admit to his family, other than Alfred. He'll drop off some to his brothers sometimes with an insulting note; he would say they're poisoned just to mess with Tim
Whenever he has free time, he's in the library. Sometimes he'll be at the public library if he doesn't want to see his family. Other times he'll be in the Manor looking at whatever new books Alfred and Damian bought
It's actually canon that Jason likes to read books like Pride and Prejudice, and The Art of War, among many others
He loves to bother his brothers whenever he can
He loves to swing by GCPD when Dick is working just to mess with him. He might even go as far as faking an emergency just for the emergency to be him wanting to say a quick fuck you
Dick has banned him from coming within a 20-foot radius of GCPD. He also threatened to arrest him if he got close
It doesn't stop Jason. He has yet to be arrested because they technically can't arrest a dead man
He'll mess with Tim at any time. His things will slowly go missing; his mugs, coffee, important papers, you name it.
One time when Tim left his place unattended, Jason moved everything an inch to the left. It drove Tim crazy. More crazy than he already was considering he hadn't slept for the past two days. He'll get Jason back one day
What he does with Damian is a 50/50. Sometimes he'll spar with him for fun. Just a quick training exercise or he's actually trying to kill the demon spawn, who knows. Other times they're both reading silently in the corner of the library.
They won't talk about it after
Definitely broke into Wayne Enterprises way too many times
He had no reason to go in. He just wanted to bother Bruce or Tim. Or both
Definitely both
Has been escorted out multiple times with Bruce watching with his head in his hands
That man is stressed lmao
Definitely picks up Damian from school with white girl music blasting at full volume. The bass is cranked up to the point where you can feel it inside the school
Damian hates it so much because his classmates find Jason pretty cool and they keep trying to talk to him about Jason
Later banned from picking Damian up from school
#jason todd#jason todd headcanons#batfamily#batfam#red hood#red hood headcanons#red hood x reader#jason todd x reader
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The Heart Killers: Character Interviews (Kant/Bison Focus)
So this proved to be super interesting. Let us see what can be gleaned from these brief little interview segments with Kant and Bison.
Immediately, I'm struck by how serious and stoic Kant comes across. He has a very mature aura, and is quite hard to read (which I guess is a plus considering what he gets up to). I didn't expect this, based on how flirty and forward he appeared to be in the trailer, and that makes me wonder if it's all part of a persona he's playing. Or whether the real Kant is in fact more measured and introspective, and Bison just brings out his playful side?
A notable trait that gets signposted repeatedly is Kant's care for his brother Babe. I believe Khao has made a similar comment about him being family-oriented. It makes a tonne of sense to me as to why Bison would be drawn to a 'family man'; someone who has strong family values, when Bison's essentially been rejected by his own.
"My goal in life is to make sure my brother grows up into a good man. I want to make sure he doesn't feel like he's lacking anything. We're all we've got right now." "I just live day by day, just keeping with my goal which is making sure my brother grows up well." This is so telling of Kant's mentality. Not only does it suggest that Kant is a stand-in parent of sorts, but that he doesn't live for himself. (Which could be something of a parallel to Bison - who is unable to live by his own rules). His goals centre entirely on his loved ones' needs being met and supporting them. This definitely gives provider with self-sacrificing tendencies.
"I feel like my goal is just to make sure my loved ones get to live their dreams. For now, I just want my brother to have a good life. But one day, if someone comes into my life and I love them, my goal would be to make sure they get to achieve their dreams." And yet another selfless, touching sentiment. The desire to aid your loved ones to actualise their dreams, possibly before or over your own. I expect Kant will be a very doting, nurturing soul. (Lucky Bison).
I wonder if Kant and Fadel will empathise with one another over their respective little brothers, and the sense of responsibility that comes with it. Bonding opportunity perhaps?
The most mysterious thing Kant says is "One more thing I'm not a big fan of is the beach." (The reason is personal). Curious. First has specifically talked about filming on the beach, where they were able to do a lot more improv. Any speculations on the above are wide open.
Now let's move onto our resident Murder Kitten. I've always said that Bison reads as a real sweetie-pie based on everything we've seen thus far. He's very animated and expressive. Khao very deliberately uses a softer, lighter vocal register as Bison, which just accentuates this cute, darling image. A real child at heart who wants to make up for a life he didn't get to lead. "I go out, I'm just trying to live outside the burger shop." His childhood dream about seeing the northern lights is just another example of a boy who has daydreamed of escape, and welcomes any excuse to be as far away from his actual life as possible. He also mentions being fond of a stray cat who resides near their burger bar, who he enjoys feeding and playing with. This precious boy, I cant. (Note: I need to have scenes of this in the show PURR-LEASE).
Everything about Bison as a person feels at odds with his violent lifestyle, which seems to be a central conflict in Bison's character arc. It does beg the question of what if Bison had never been adopted, what kind of life would he be living instead? And I think this drives Kant's desire to fight for Bison's chance at a new start. A boy with big dreams meets a man who wants to realise them. What a match.
Another comment we've heard before in the pilot is "I also don't like liars", no doubt foreshadowing the fallout when he finds out Kant did exactly that. I do think it's likely that whatever drives Kant to take the detective job has reasons to do with his own brother. He may wish to clear his record of anything untoward for his brother's sake. Based on this premise, when Bison does find out why Kant did what he did, I think that will help soothe any hard feelings.
On a side note - I've seen a comment mention that Kant apparently calls Bison 'kitten' in the novel. ERM HULLO?!! I will allow one spoiler, and that is whether this is true or not. And if so, I DEMAND that it is a featured pet name in the show, because why on earth would you miss an opportunity like that?!
You can keep tabs on bird-inacage’s BL meta directory for other long-form posts around The Heart Killers, which I'll be updating as the show airs.
#the heart killers#the heart killers the series#THK#THK meta#kantbison#firstkhao#first kanaphan#khaotung thanawat#no novel spoilers pls!#kantbison is going to be a LETHAL combo#every tiny tidbit makes me love them so much more already#kant giving daddy energy both inside and outside the bedroom#if kant does call bison 'kitten' in the show - i'll die on the spot#seriously though first's seriousness here is so distinctly different to sand or akk - closer to alan a smidge but still different you know#just actors doing actor-y things - god bless them
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More on Davrin's past, arc and journal (part 2)
Part one where I wrote down all the banter about Davrin's Dalish past is here!
I wanted to put all codex (I could find) in order, divided by topic! (Also I wanted to say I will post more Davrin stuff on my personal blog @lucrezianoin haha to not fill this one with just Davrin!)
This is divided in:
Davrin's past and his feelings of guilt for the Dalish clan
Weisshaupt being the only home he has
Meeting Assan and the griffons (and naming Assan)
The Warden vs Nature choice for the griffons
Other (stuff on the Gloom Howler etc.)
Davrin's past and Dalish clan
Just a bit more here on Davrin's guilt for leaving his clan and we do get the confirmation that Davrin has not seen Eldrin since his kids days, and contacted him thanks to a chat with Rook.
Also interesting that the way Davrin was treated by Eldrin is very similar to the way Davrin treats Assan at the start. In the quest we also find out Eldrin was quite harsh (making him eat Halla food as a way to learn, which led to hours of hallucinations and sickness, and kicking his butt when he felt Davrin was wrong).
We don't really get that deep into it, but I like that while Davrin firmly believes in "Throw yourself at it, if you don't learn you get hurt" for himself, he squanders that idea pretty easily when it comes to Assan, even going so far as to start wonder if there is a "non fighting" future for Assan.
I will put this codex later on but I also wanted to show it here for Davrin's past, in "The Nature of Griffons" Davrin says: "Talking to Rook about Assan's insticts got me thinking. Can you change something you're born with? Or are we blank slates who can make our own way? Was I born a monster hunter, destined to do this job, or did I have a choice?" which makes me scream because I need to know what happened in his clan.
From the banter and his personal quests we know that Davrin hunted everything, and then started going to Eldrin's during the summers and he learnt to hurt darkness (monsters) and things that threatened the forest. Did he have a drive to hunt that Eldrin needed to re-direct, where were his parents? Were they the ones sending him to Eldrin? And why is it that a talk of nature vs nurture and his Dalish clan makes him think only of Eldrin and not his parents? (We realistically can imagine Davrin's mother is alive, given that during the gym scene Taash insults her and Davrin says "She can take it" when Taash apologize).
Weisshaupt (and the fall of Weisshaupt)
Davrin often talks about Weissaupt with affection and jokingly but the code really expresses that Weissaupt was his only home.
When Davrin leaves to follow Rook we find out that he knows the First Warden would not take him back. He describes the fortress in detail (loved the "libraries of books I'll never read, getting bruised and battered while sparring etc." as some nostalgic positive thing - miserable and exhilarating). And of course "It's the only home I got", which is telling knowing how he feels about his clan never taking him back if he asked.
And then the heartbreaking entry for Weisshaupt fall.
There are a few other entries:
Which also has a bit about Assan: "I have been thinking of Assan as an assignment: something I need to protect until he finishes his training. But we're in this together now, and it's time to lick our wounds and move on. I'm all he's got, and in some ways, he's all I've got."
How Davrin got to work with Griffons and meeting Assan
My favorite entries are about how Davrin got his assignement and how sweet he was on Assan (unknowingly!!) since the start!
We find out it was the First Warden (from Weisshaupt) that sent him to the assignment. I am still unsure how it works for a Warden who is a Monster Hunter, but we know from the entries that Davrin lived at Weisshaupt and considered it his home, so I supposed he was just sent here and there? Like a specialized Warden? He also mentions he was sent as a bodyguard, basically, and he seems both fascinated and a bit skeptical (they poop a lot haha, and he admires Lancit's patience).
And then he meets Assan. "There's one griffon, this little guy." From Endril's words we know Davrin used to be small and scrawny as a kid, so I wonder if he saw himself in Assan. "He's a little slow on the uptake, but he's fast in the air." And so Davrin suggests the name Assan for him. And my favorite part "If I do nothing else in this life, at least I can say I got to name a griffon".
We also have these late entries about the nature of griffons and Davrin's realization that they are not "made" for fighting by nature, but taught so. "Can griffons do anything else? Would they want to? I wonder". Also he is such a dad, writing about Assan's first taste of an apple.
About Assan and the halla, Davrin writes "the instincts of a dog herding sheep", and I personally think it is about learning. There is a moment in the dialogue at the start of Davrin's recruital where we find out that griffons learn better in groups, they clearly are very social animals. I fully believe Assan fed the Halla simply because he saw Davrin doing that, he learnt from watching, he sees Davrin taking care of Halla so he learns that is the thing to do and how it is done.
Then we have some notes on Griffon's extinctions, and a note about Assan's love for gingerwort truffles (which Davrin tried and did not like.. we also find out Davrin hates broccoli... please Davrin... I love broccoli...)
Warden Griffons vs Arlathan Griffons
These are the two different notes:
Interesting the "Warden" choice starts with "Deciding where the griffons should go wasn't easy" which is not present in the Arlathan choice. I do not think there is a right/wrong choice, but after reading this I will always lean more towards Arlathan.
"it's time they got a chance to explore nature instead. The griffons are going to love Arlathan"
Other codex
Interesting that he says he does feel sympathy for Isseya.
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I don't believe I've mentioned this before on here, but occasionally I like to go by an honorific aside from the three (Miss, Mistress, and Ma'am) that I have in my bio. The reason I don't list it is because I don't consider it something that should be used generally, as much as it is a nice term and I love being called it, it's not particularly fitting most of the time. Most of the time, I'm just me. Sure, I'm dominant, I rather enjoy teasing people, controlling them, but I still feel human. I wouldn't say that my normal demeanor quite fits the title of Goddess.
I do enjoy the title. But I only feel it's appropriate sometimes. When I feel every part of me that works to control my thralls working absolutely effortlessly. When I can feel my mind reaching out and taking hold of another person's consciousness, when their body becomes nothing but a vessel for my will, what little thought they're capable of a means to an end, that end being my own pleasure. When I don't worry about the comfort of my toys, when I know that my control of them runs so deep, they'll feel comfortable as long as they're following my orders, as long as they're bringing me pleasure. When I don't feel mortal. When I feel divine, when that divinity, that presence can be felt by my thralls while I thrust into them, while their body performs an act of worship by spreading its legs for me, when they look up and see that there has never been anything, anyone more perfect than the woman whose cock is actively rewiring their brains reward system. It's so easy to tell that they feel it too. I don't need to command them. I don't need to give orders. They submit regardless. They bend to my will without words to guide them. They know what I want. They'll follow, they'll obey, and worship, and prostrate in the presence of the divine being standing before them. Because Goddess is perfect. Goddess is bliss, and obedience, and pleasure. Goddess is everything.
Now, I can't say it applies to me all of the time, because, frankly, it doesn't. It's only sometimes. I know there is a difference in presence, because I can always tell in the way my thrall reacts to me, there's definitely a more pronounced air of submission, of absolute devotion, though it's quite strong normally, it feels more... fervent, when I am Goddess. Whether it's a conscious reaction or not, I would not know. I've had a sense that there is a bit of a difference between normal me and Goddess me for a while now, but as I've been feeling Divine more often lately, I've been able to notice a few more things about it. To be quite honest, I hope it continues occurring more often. Often, in the back of my head, there's something else running, no matter what I'm doing. Doubt, or worry, general anxiety, it's always there. Except for when I'm Goddess. It feels so clear then. No worries, no anxiety, I just feel... Powerful. I feel control over myself, over those around me. No second guessing my decisions, and it's far easier to make them in the first place. It's nice. Calming. I feel at peace. Maybe that's why there's a different presence. I enjoy it very much. And as I mentioned, it's been happening more often lately. I've been trying to keep track of what causes it so I'll know how to enter that state again in a more conscious manner. But regardless, it has been more frequent lately. I'm hoping that trend will continue. It will be rather fun to feel like that more often. Of course, it also means I'll likely be a bit more... Controlling, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing, now is it?
#t4t hypno#fem domme#t4t ns/fw#trans nsft#hypnodomme#hypnok1nk#hypnosis#t4t nsft#brainwashing#mind control
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🎶For the twelfth day of Christmas, my Ketto gave to me-🎶
Closure!!!!!
So, I've been talking about this for a fair bit now and debating the logistics, and I have decided to do it: A Christmas of Closure!
I have so many unfinished/on hiatus fics, some that never got past the first part, and this is my effort to (1) relieve myself of the guilt of not finishing them and (2) give a bit of closure to the readers who still wanted more from the story.
How does it work? You guys can choose any story of mine that you wanted to see more of, and the first twelve will get a little love this holiday season, with me posting one update every day leading up to Christmas, and ending on Christmas day with either whatever I was most excited to share, or what took me the longest and I needed more time for LOL
They key to this is that it's stories I've already started, so rather than spending half my writing time trying to figure out what it's going to be about, I'll hopefully just be giving words to something that's sat in my brain for the last few months/years. I'll get to share with you what was supposed to happen, while maybe jump-starting my own creative process so maybe (no promises) I'll actually be able to finish the story! (Again, NO promises, but also I hope so!!!)
(Specifics below)
All stories are on the table with the exception of TBBU, since that's already a work in progress and I will get there independently (*she lied, like a liar*). There might be others that have reached their natural end as well, and I'm not up to making zombies, but I can't name any right off, so go nuts and choose whatever you feel has been on life support for too long :)
Whumptober/Sicktember/Febuwhump prompts are up from grabs, but only in the form of continuations of already written pieces. I will not be writing prompts that I failed to post on time in this challenge (maybe another time)
The age of the fic doesn't matter, but be aware I might not be able to capture the same voice as I used to use. My writing style has changed and developed, but I will try and match my own freak when I can.
You CAN ask for specific things! I will not take unkindly to you popping in to say "write an update for story XYZ and maybe have ABC happen?" I can't promise that ABC will happen of course, because maybe that's not what was meant to happen, but I promise to consider any and all suggestions regardless, and try and make a Christmas present that you'll enjoy :)
The stories will get posted starting on the 14th of December and ending on December 25. There will not be an Ao3 collection, but I will have a master-list here on tumblr.
I hope that covers everything, but if you have any questions I didn't answer, please feel free to send an ask, so I can answer publicly, in the case others had the same question <3
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Relativity Falls headcanons- My Version Pt.2
I thought I'd do a part two to this, because why not?
To go more in depth with the whole Mabel getting kicked out thing. Which, if it were an episode, I think I'd call it "The Two Tales of Nature". (Because Shooting Star, Pine Tree, and the hardships of the world.) Anyway, like I said, I don't think Dipper would just let his sister get kicked out, even if he was mad at her. We've seen him multiple times throughout the show sacrifice things for her. I don't think that'd change just because of one misunderstanding. A big one, sure, but I just don't see Dipper doing what Ford did. So, let's say Dipper wasn't there, because maybe he stormed off or something and when he came back, his parents lied to him about why Mabel suddenly wasn't there. That she left on her own accord.
Deep down he knew something was wrong, especially when some of her stuff had been left behind, but his parents were manipulative about this so, there's that. This also comes out in the open during the fight in front of the portal, on top of everything the two of them have been going through.
I've seen two different versions of this AU where Dipper has to deal with Bill's parents or the Axolotl in Bill's place. I'm cool with either of them being the demon(s) he has to deal with, but the Axolotl sounds scary as fuck as a villain. Just think about it, an entity that rules over a prison, forcing other entities to redeem themselves as a good guy? Imagine what the Axolotl could to do in Bill's place! And from my understanding, I could be wrong so I'm sorry if I am, but the Axolotl isn't a dream demon like Bill so, Dipper doesn't have to be asleep to be processed! There's just so much potential there!
Fiddlestan, all the way for my version. I think it's cute! Don't know if they'd get together during that summer or as adults later on in this au. However, I'm cool with either idea.
Dipper had journals and video tapes, I feel like he would do both. Especially, to monitor what he's been doing while possessed. Ford finds the journals while Stanley stumbles upon the tapes.
Mabel may or may not take a peek at these. Mostly sticks to the journals though, after just watching one tape. She couldn't stomach it because whatever was possessing Dipper, was hurting him.
Dreamscapers and the whole thing where the Mystery Shack gets stolen is still a thing and it plays out like kind of like canon, just that Gideon is older when he's doing the things he's doing. The only difference is that he's willing to cut a deal with Mabel, she can keep the shack if she marries him. Mabel considers it, but Stanley and Ford stand up for her.
#relativity falls#Gravity Falls#Gravity Falls au#Dipper Pines#Mabel Pines#Ford Pines#Stanley Pines#gideon gleeful#Fiddlestan#Relativity! Fiddlestan
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Ep 26 Commentary
Alrightyy I've mustered up what's left of my brain for a belated ep 26 commentary post. IRL responsibilities are getting a bit away from me so I wasn't able to spend as much time on this as usual; apologies if the haste shows through! Consider this more reaction than meta.
As always, spoilers under the cut:
A carry-over comment, but I really do appreciate the Li Lun/ZYC scene in ep 25 for how it solidified ZYC's resolve and reminded him of where his heart is, what he believes in, what he chooses to defend. Such a load-bearing and pivotal conversation for both characters in opposite directions of development. It also makes ZYC's return to the Bureau triumphant in a way, despite all the preceding trauma, despair, and hopelessness. WX embraces him in relief that he's safe and in comfort for what they've all just been through, and for us, it's doubly meaningful as a sort of homecoming after a confrontation that only we have witnessed. It's also interesting, the cutaway as they hug, the things we have been made privy to and the things that are kept private from us.
Ouuughh the lines voiced over as ZYZ and ZYC meet eyes for the first time since all that transpired in Tianxiang Pavilion. It gives such a deep sense of wordless understanding and intimacy. I'm reminded of when the show did that for Ranyi and Miss Qi's final lines.
As I mentioned previously, a lot of subtext became text in this episode, which was quite exciting (and also extremely adorable the way ZYC was like "I think I've said too much" /// afterwards). I didn't expect ZYC to convey his understanding of ZYZ to him so soon, but that really goes back to something I love about ZYC: that he doesn't really waste time expressing something once he's come to an emotional conclusion. Maybe there's something to be said there about how he knows, after the loss of his family, how important it is to say the words when you have them to the people in front of you while they're still here.
If ZYC's words and his tears offered to a catatonic ZYZ in ep 23 were an expression of star-crossed and conflicted love, this parallel scene is just an utterly unrestrained confession, the stars be damned.
Also, tbh I never found ZYC's reactions to ZYZ to be unfounded or unreasonable, even when misguided in the beginning (and necessarily so, given the narrative and premise) or at times harsh (which I also found much-needed for ZYZ to hear, and delivered with obvious sympathetic anguish). He was clearly reflecting and actively revising his own preconceived notions this entire time, feeling for ZYZ the whole way through, and I do think he's demonstrated realistically and impressively the full extent of empathy perhaps as far as it can possibly stretch without personally experiencing ZYZ's life himself and while still living and feeling for his own. But to see ZYC so ready to address his previous flaws, to admit them and correct them, to go beyond them and to reach out so plainly for ZYZ in front of him now that he has that personal experience—the relationship between them has transcended the initial set-up of two opposing characters meeting in the middle. The show has gone that extra step and made their perspectives one. And given that I didn't personally find that step to be narratively necessary, so to say, (as in, even without it there's not truly a narrative obstacle because I already believed ZYC loves ZYZ despite everything and we've already seen the lengths he'll go to not to kill ZYZ), it feels like a choice in every definition of the word. Like a development motivated by love all the way down.
WX gets the least traumatic cloak-draping scenes out of the three of them, thank god.
Oh shit I forgot about fixing the Wilderness I'm so glad they didn't lmao.
Ahhh the crossroads moment at a literal (kind of) crossroads right before entering the Bingyi Clan's forbidden area. ZYC suddenly wanting to go alone or back out, stuck weighing the danger to everyone's lives, who they can and can't save depending on his choices. It makes me think of what happens when we let intense love in and it comes with intense fear, makes us freeze up. Suddenly, the stakes are in sharp relief, and the courage to move forward isn't so simple anymore.
"修好了,你也別死" ("Once it's fixed, don't die either.") Head in hands. ZYC's voice here, his expression, that desperation. Yeah I think this episode was so draining because of how all pretense is being stripped away and all that's left is ZYC's profound love for everyone, so raw and vulnerable that it hurts to watch, especially knowing he won't have it easy trying to keep everyone alive.
Kind of love how freely ZYC cries and says the vulnerable things in front of all his loved ones. Like. That's truly his family, his people, his heart.
ZYZ please. Imagine ZYC's grief without you. Please just stay.
Yay 12 seconds of angst-free bickering right before (as someone else called it) the trolley problem
Ok so, I'm not sure how common this interpretation/reading of the following scene is, but it's been rattling around in my head for a while now so I'm just gonna include it here. If y'all disagree, pls disregard! Basically, when ZYC first turned to PSJ and thanked her, I was terrified for a moment that he would ask her to stay. Because on one hand, ZYC would never, but on the other hand, imo there's a lot of (I think deliberate) ambiguity baked into the scene. In ZYC turning to PSJ right after we're told "one of your friends or all three of them," in him starting the series of goodbyes with the character he has the least onscreen development with, in the finality of what he says to her but also the lack of clarity on just who this is final for, in PSJ's expression and WX's reaction, in the dramatic turning away at the end. Like, until he turns away from her, I think there's room for interpretation on what he's decided to do, and as someone who's grown quite surprisingly invested in the ZYC-PSJ dynamic, I'm kind of morbidly interested in this reading of events.
What might be going through PSJ's head at ZYC's words, if at this moment she hasn't yet realized his self-sacrificial intent? Does she think she's going to be asked to stay? Does she assess the situation, conclude that she's the person ZYC is least close to and perhaps the one least able to contribute in whatever comes next as the only human here, and begin resigning herself to this outcome? Are the tears in her eyes the sole indication of her conflicted unwillingness to die here that makes it through because as he's talking, she's evaluated that this is the best possible scenario for them all (esp for WX) and will commit herself to his decision even if it also breaks her heart to be chosen this way?
I may be taking this and running a bit far with it, but I just think the ambiguity of this one brief moment can create such angsty implications between the lines (as if we needed more angst...) and despite their scarce onscreen interactions, I'm kind of a sucker for the "extremely noble (to the point of tragedy) knight choosing to acknowledge and follow and dedicate their silent loyalty to a leader they deeply respect" dynamic, even if it is understated with all the other relationships going on in this show. Given how reticent PSJ is, it makes a meaningful impact on me every time she displays concern for ZYC, so you know it crushed me to watch her desperately and irrationally (the most pragmatic of them all!) try to shoot at him with her arrows while knowing there's no way it'd work. The way she was the first to act, the sound of nothing but the ice and the stretch of the bowstring. I really do love their platonic bond much more than I expected to.
Oof. The freezing. I don't want to sound like a broken record but I loved TJR's acting here because I think it's so easy for this scene to look awkward as he's stuck facing forward and pretending to freeze haha. His microexpressions as he realizes ZYZ is behind him, as he tries to chase him away with his words, as he's probably burning from the inside out with all that ice. That last tear as his gaze turns hollow. A+
I also love ZYZ's lines about not believing he can't overcome ZYC's powers like yeah this is a newborn demon with no inner core and ice powers that he taught him lmao
Okay, that's a wrap for my thoughts on this ep! I was originally going to include ep 27 reactions here too, but seeing as this is getting a little long, maybe I'll roll 27 into my thoughts on ep 28? We shall see!
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I don't think the crew's comments about Lydia and Beetlejuice being endgame should be taken seriously. If that was seriously considered I feel like the movie would have gone on a different direction, they were pretty consistent with Lydia being disgusted by Beetlejuice and he's the villain all the way to the end
yeah that's kiiind of how i feel too. i would not say he's the villain though? i think he's more of an anti-hero type of character in this one. definitely not a good guy though lol not by a long shot
ultimately the cast isn't the one who's making the story here, however they do have some insight the audience might not have. like i feel like they know something we don't and that's why they feel that way, because they were all VERY sure about it.
this is just my guess so take this with a grain of salt, but i feel like the cast might be a little biased because they know michael personally and he's nice to everyone behind the scenes, you can tell everyone has a lot of love for him. i don't like assuming stuff like this so AGAIN don't take this as fact, but i remember winona saying something along the lines of like, him making sure she wasn't uncomfortable while filming the first movie, so maybe that kinda stuck with her and she conflated it with beetlejuice's character. she speaks of the whole thing in a very shy fangirl manner (which is honestly kind of adorable winona youre 52 and acting like this) like she knows it's silly and she knows she shouldn't want them to be endgame but she does anyway. so THAT feels like it really is her own personal opinion that hasn't much to do with what's planned for them (if there's anything planned at all because we don't know anything for sure, we can only guess and hope there'll be a third one)
tim burton has talked about how he wanted the whole macarthur park scene to be straightforwardly romantic and emotionally intimate, in its own fucked up beetlejuicey way of course. i think it can be all that and still be pretty one-sided idk i personally enjoy the one-sided aspect? macarthur park IS a breakup song after all. so i think i kinda see where he was going with that. it's uh. kind of an enigmatic scene once you stop laughing at the ridiculousness of it all and try to analyze it lol
sorry i lost my train of thought there i got interrupted many times while typing this
i think what i was trying to say is that, even with the one-sidedness and breakup song and all that, there could still be a possibility that things take a strange turn in a third movie if it happens. it's just. wow. how would they even make THAT work, you know? because this movie didn't push hard enough in that direction. it's not impossible but if they do go for it, it will be insanely hard to pull off successfully. fics are one thing, you can do whatever you want in fanfiction, but canon can't be approached like that.
who knows man. lately i've been thinking about how i would've reacted to learning about the events of the sequel if i hadn't been eased into it with trailers and promos and through the movie and its storytelling, and i just know i would've thought "that's insane and would not happen, ever, come on" and now here i am. accepting it. breaking it down and analyzing it. enjoying it! i love this crazy ass movie.
at this point i think anything could happen even if i'm also very skeptic about everything. i won't believe anything until i see it.
#beetleposting#idk if this post counts as beetlebabes talk but there's the keyword for those who want to mute#beetlebabes
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I don't think this is going to be a "hot take" per se but... Long time Vocaloid fan here (first song was "Last Night, Good Night" if that gives you an indication haha), but I genuinely enjoy pretty near all of Project Sekai! I enjoy how they've done the Vocaloids, how different they all are and how they embody different parts of vocaloid songs and the interpretations of the voice banks' personalities, and by extension, the fandom. While ProSekai can't cover ALL of the niches, I think they've got a decent variety. And while in another world I would love to have ALL vocaloids (or voice banks, whether by crypton or no) as characters, I understand why they just kept it to just Miku and co. I enjoy the characters made for ProSekai, whether main or side. I enjoy seeing how they have grown, how they will grow, and how they interact with not just their own groups, but with the world around them. I also enjoy the side characters, and how they also have their own struggles, and how, whether they be a good or bad person moral-wise, they add a lot of flavour and background to the main characters stories and struggles. I enjoy our main characters personalities. Yes, all of them, even if I wasn't as big of a fan at first of some, I've come to grow to like all of them. I also have found myself relating to all of them in some way or another. Whether it be Nene and her desire to do better despite her stage fright in the beginning and pushing through and learning from the critique of what she considers to be her strongest quality, or Ena and her struggle with her art, or Minori trying her absolute best and proving to not just others, but herself, that she can achieve her dreams and she can, indeed, be an idol that spreads hope (just for a couple of examples). Plus their singing! Sure, not every song may be a banger, but I enjoy listening to both the vocaloid and sekai versions of songs. I can't wait to see where the story takes them, especially since a lot of things have gone down as of late. Both in JP and ENG. I enjoy the gameplay and the art! First time playing a rhythm game that does piano-style, but I've been enjoying getting better at the game and playing with others. And the art has been lovely and I like seeing the themes and motifs that have been integrated into not just each set, but each character's card. Whether you choose to just enjoy it on a surface level of just being pretty, or if you choose to look further in to try to glean more, I find that it's a pleasant experience regardless. I know there's a lot of stuff going on in the fandom, and obviously not everything is perfect. Some events, cards, songs, and other media have been, well, cause of controversy, and I can completely understand why. There's also other things that can be improved, and as always, there are many different opinions as to how things can improve/be fixed. But I also think they have tackled some issues very well, and hopefully they can continue to try to do so. To conclude, I'm having a great time watching others create and enjoy the world that Colopale (and by extension Sega) have created. Hope you all have a great day, and thank you for making this blog! It's been interesting to see the many takes here, whether I agree with them or no.
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Okay, I found this perspective really interesting because I've never thought of it this way before, so I pondered about it for some time and wanted to write my take on this:
I consider myself a psychological therian. I don't believe in the afterlife, so neither in past lives. Everything wolfish that happens in my life is related to the present moment.
I am a pwBPD, so aggression is a part of my wolf experience. It's not a defining part, but I also can't separate it from it.
What I found interesting was the idea that for a wolf hunting is not violence, it's an instinct. A wolf doesn't have a human perspective. I do, which makes it complicated.
I do feel the urge to hunt, I crave meat, blood, sometimes I want to tear things to shreds, to growl, bite, express dominance, protect my pack.
But these things make me ashamed, because I'm judging them from human perspective. And sure, I can't be fully myself all the time, because I live in human society, but I'm even ashamed in therian spaces, because the judge is inside.
That's the inner dichotomy: There's the human part, and from that part, I empathise with other animals and don't want them to suffer, so I try to at least compromise by buying meat as ethically as possible, because I can't give it up due to the animal part.
If I deprive myself of what 'the Wolf' craves, I suffer. And then it gets worse, much more destructive and unhealthy. So, I try to 'feed the Wolf' in a way that's not harmful (like writing about these experiences online).
When I get in the wolf mindset, tho I don't feel guilty about eating meat, or weird for tearing into it. It's just instinctual. Just like the urge to howl or whine.
And like you said, hunting isn't about violence it's about the thrill of the chase, the feeling of sharing the same goal with the pack, it's almost intimate. And it's natural. If we judge that, we judge it from the human perspective.
I was also glad you mentioned the experience of wandering, because I don't think I've seen anyone talk about it before, though it's such a huge part of my wolf identity and always has been.
That's why Wolf's rain has been such a huge point of awakening for me in the beginning, because I very much identified with the endless search for...something. As Kiba mentioned in the anime, it's not even Paradise in a biblical sense as an ideal, it's just a future.
And I've always had this drive in me. To go on. I used to be proud of my ability to never give up. Before life knocked me to the ground. But after I stood up, found my wolf-self again, I still have Hope. Even though I'm going through the darkest time of my life.
I never knew if it's just inertia, but I've always connected it to the Wolf. I just can't stay in one place too long. I get restless. I have moved flats way too many times in my life. I used to run away from relationships, because of my need for freedom (I need to make a note here that those were relationships where I was masking), changed interests, started projects and abandoned them...
I tended to try and fight against this tendency, but I'm starting to think it's a part of who I am. I'm not careless with my relationships, tho. I also have a wolf's loyalty. So, unfortunately for me, when I bond with someone, even a friend, for me, it's for life. Then it hurts when people inevitably move on.
This hunger, empty belly - it's been with me as long as I can remember. And I have my own psychological explanations for it, but it's also inseparably tied to my wolf experience. So, I was glad to realise, after reading your post, that it's just a natural thing.
(I wrote about packs in a different post, but I would like to write about the weird vivid quality of wolf experiences too, I'll get to it in another post, I hope.)
Content warning: this post contains mentions of wolves hunting other animals, and some thoughts on the subject. Nothing I'd consider graphic, but I know it can be sensitive for some folks so I thought I'd warn beforehand!
Hhh, it's a bit hard to know where to start with getting back into writing about my experiences.
It's not that I don't have anything to say - it's the opposite! There's so much I'd like to share. I've always loved talking about my experiences... maybe a bit self-indulgent, but I like to think it can help other folks too, and I've gotten many interesting conversations out of it in the past, so no regrets!
Can't imagine I'll be posting big things like this frequently, but I'll happily answer questions and chat too. ^u^
So... right now, what I've decided I'd like to write about is some of the, I guess kinda fundamental aspects of my identity as a wolf therian.
It's interesting in a way, because there are so many wolves around - there's a lot of people to compare experiences against! I guess, if you have a rare kintype, or a kintype that's varied enough that your individual variation of it is rare (like dragons) - it might be hard to imagine that a wolf would struggle to find other people they relate to. But then, well: there's me.
I don't think anyone's nonhuman experiences are wrong. I don't think anyones' are "superior" either; it's just about who you are as an individual, what feels right and comfortable to you. I just wanted to get that across! Cause what I'd like to talk about does involve some comparison between my feelings and the things I've seen expressed by other wolf therians, and I wouldn't want it to be read as me saying my way of being as any better than anyone elses' (it's not).
During my time in the kin and therian communities (which, I first encountered over ten years ago now, but my activity has been very on-and-off since I reached adulthood) I've met so, so many wolf therians. It's... hmm, complicated for me, in a way? Because I felt very isolated, especially when I was younger, and I felt like wolf therians were supposed to be "my people". But really, I could count on both hands how many wolves I've met that I really related to on any level.
And the reason for that is the same now as it's always been: for a lot of wolf therians, being a wolf seems to be a kind of violent, bloodthirsty identity. The "predator" feeling is strong; there's some affinity for the thrill of the kill, the violence of it all.
That's not a bad thing. It's not wrong! But my experience has been... very different from that.
My perception of wolfhood isn't really "red in tooth and claw" like that. It's more... simple. Not peaceful really - life as a wolf is full of trials and strife - but the violence never felt defining for me. In terms of personal importance, the feelings of wanting to hunt, to fight, to bite and maim... I'd be lying if I said they were entirely absent, but they were always tertiary to things that seemed far more present and central.
I think a big part of that is... well, for context, I believe my wolf identity is linked to a past life. Yeah, stereotypical, I know! But it's genuinely what I experience; I do remember that life, or at least aspects of it. And those memories influence a lot of my experiences in my current life as a wolf-person.
The thing that strikes me most when I compare my own perspective on wolfhood to the ideas often expressed by other wolf therians, is that to me, hunting wasn't violence. It couldn't be violence.
Why? Because I just plain didn't realise that the deer and other animals we killed were living things.
There was no... room to even consider that idea. I didn't know that the deer I drove to exhaustion felt pain and terror, same as I did. I just knew I was hungry and it was food.
It's a strange thing to consider, isn't it? People talk a lot about "what makes us human". I don't think there's any one thing that does. But if I were to point to one of the most jarring, and one of the most utterly sacred parts of being human to me, it would be the ability to connect emotionally with other species.
Humans are not unique for doing that. And maybe there's some animals a wolf could come to see as an individual, in the way I would've seen another wolf. But a deer would never be that. Which contrasts strangely with me, now, as a human: where I can love pigs, and care about their welfare and treatment, but still enjoy some bacon or a porkchop. That can conflict, sometimes, yeah - but from a wolf perspective, that would be incomprehensible. At least, from my experiences it would be.
And if you remove the idea of violence from hunting, suddenly a wolf's life doesn't seem very violent at all. The act of hunting and killing prey animals felt no more violent to me, than when I cook up a steak for myself now. To someone, that would be violent, but to me it's just a steak - y'know? I know the steak comes from a cow, but that fact brings me neither grief nor pleasure. It's just kinda how the world is and I'm mostly okay with that.
The act of hunting was, I'd say, something I enjoyed as a wolf. I loved the chase. It was fun. Taking down prey could be scary; even a deer is dangerous when cornered and desperate. But the thing with nature is that it makes what you have to do to survive feel desirable: so risking my life for a meal felt thrilling, in a way, and a full belly afterwards was satisfying, and comforting, and a relief from the usual gnaw of hunger.
Hunting's only a small part of being a wolf, though. Even setting aside all the attempted hunts that fall through before you even get into a full sprint.
A lot of wolf life focuses on territory. In some places, it's a very intense, almost war-like conflict; constant, bloody, often fatal. Not always, though. It depends a lot on the intensity of the ecosystem you live in: a place with lots of prey attracts lots of wolves, who then compete for access. If the prey's more spread out, the wolves are more spread out too... and an area of land feels less worth dying for when you've got so many others to search.
Me and my pack were one of the latter varieties. Territorial conflicts were rare, for us; I don't recall any specifically. We patrolled, we marked our space. Territorial disputes were something I was aware of, I think - if I saw a trespasser I certainly would've acted with aggression - but it just wasn't a common occurrence.
So my experience of being a wolf didn't feel like it was defined by violence much. It didn't feel bloody and raw. I could see myself in the image of a wolf that snarls, maybe, but moreso I see myself in the image of the wolf that sleeps, or - perhaps most of all - the wolf that wanders.
And that's what existence as a wolf was, and is for me! It's wandering. It is the neverending search. Even when you find what you need, the relief can't last long - you need to move on soon, you need to seek again soon, because it won't be long before your empty belly's gnawing at your insides again. It wasn't ever a life of violence, it was a life of travel, for the good and the bad of it: for the new sights and new smells and new opportunities; for the exhaustion, the uncertainty, the sore paws and aching muscles.
And the restlessness. The need to keep moving. Keep going. Keep searching, always searching.
But, of course, that's still not the centre piece of the puzzle. Because that could only ever, of course, be the pack.
This is something I'll probably dedicate time to writing about all on its own, because I have such deep feelings about "the pack" as a concept, and also about my pack, who I lived for in my last life.
But I will say that all of my deepest, most vivid, and most impactful memories... they're not of the hunt, they're not about territory or conflict or hunger. What I remember most richly is the love I felt for my pack. It's a feeling I can't quite find it in me to explain; sometimes I wonder if the reason I identify as loveless in this life, is simply because no love I've ever felt as a human could compare to what I felt as a wolf.
I think there's a kind of synergy between the simple mind of a wolf, and the feelings a wolf experiences: in the quiet of an animal's mind, emotions seem so much stronger, so much more vivid somehow. I feel that even now, when I have a mental shift, and the logic and reason falls away - all that's left is emotion and physical senses, and they paint a picture so, so bright.
And those past life memories that I hold dearest, they have a similar quality to them... to curl up with my family after a long day of travel. Or listen to their happy snores as we all sleep off a full belly. And playing with the pups... I was a very fun wolf-uncle. And those pups were my joy, light of my whole life! <3
So... yeah. That's what being a wolf is to me.
It's not the only way to be a wolf. It's not the "right" was vs anyone else's "wrong". This is just what wolfhood is to me personally. Maybe other wolves will see something of themselves in this, maybe not! Either way, I appreciate the time you took to read my rambling. It feels nice to carve out a place in my life again where I can really talk about this stuff. c:
#my take#wolf therian#psychological therian#prey drive#werewolfkin#canine therian#therian things#adult therian#actually borderline#therian shift#cw blood mention#hunger#cw hunting#cw meat#therian vocals#long post#white wolf's tracks
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Perspective on Solas/Mythal regrets and grief
Trigger warning: Death and grief
I've seen a lot of people complaining about Solas being too hung up on Mythal and the fact that he has so many regrets tied to her, and believing that he loves Mythal more than Lavellan.
I don't believe this to be true, as we've been told by Trick Weekes that this is not the case.
However, i also wanted to offer a quick piece of perspective on the situation that has really helped me to understand Solas' pain and why he is doing what he is.
Imagine that you had a very dear friend since childhood, your first friend, that has maybe guided you, given advice and been there for you, and you have been close with them your entire life growing up. Imagine everything you may have done with that friend, creating memories, sometimes good and sometimes bad.
Imagine this friend introducing you to someone or something that looks promising, or an idea that could change the world. You believe in this friend and they ask you to help them with this. You start to notice that things aren't what they seem, that the things you are doing to help this friend achieve this great outcome have involved some terrible things.
You see that this is wrong, but you love and respect your friend so much, you believe in their cause and want this great outcome. But you start to see them going down a slippery slope and you want to turn them away from this thing that's dangerous for them. Your friend considers your words, but they're enthralled with this vision and believe what they are doing is right. They ignore your request and keep going with this thing.
You can see how dangerous this is, so you beg them to come with you and get away from this terrible thing, you know they could get hurt or die in the process, but they continue to go on and end up getting killed.
Imagine the pain and regret you would feel, the feeling that you have failed to protect your friend when you had the chance even though you had tried and now they're gone. You went down this path with them, you had the chance to save them and were unable to pull them out, now it's too late.
You reach the anger stage of your grief and have the opportunity to avenge your dear friend, and you take it. As the years go by, the world around you then changes, turning to the opposite of what your friend may have wanted, but you have the power to change this. Though it's risky, you have the power to fix things and make up for your failure to protect your friend, and make the world better like they wanted. Even if it's been years, the thoughts and regrets plague your mind, knowing that you may have been able to save them, and that instead you could now change things to what they would have wanted.
That is Solas. That is why Solas is filled with regret and wants to right his wrongs, especially after knowing the terrible things he has also done. He wants to make things right, fix the world to how Mythal would have wanted it.
People deal with grief in different ways, some are able to work through their grief completely and move on with their lives, while some struggle for years and years and it consumes them. I believe that due to the Elves also previously being spirits which embodied a single emotion, they feel things very deeply in their physical forms, and that is part of why Solas' grief and regret could have such a firm hold on him. There wouldn't be therapists, psychologists, and counsellors like we have to help us work through these things.
As someone who has lost a very dear childhood friend way too soon myself, I still think about her often. It's been over 10 years, and while I've moved on with my life and don't wallow in my grief, she still crosses my mind. I still wonder if she felt that I failed to help her in her time of need. If I had the opportunity to go back and save her from the things that caused her so much pain, I would. If I could change the world to be better, in the way I know she would have wanted, I would.
I don't condone Solas' actions of course, tearing down the veil and killing many more people in the process is definitely not something I would want to happen to Thedas. But I empathise with him, his grief, and the regrets he has in regards to Mythal, regardless of the manipulative nature of their relationship.
As Trick has told us, Solas loves Lavellan and she is the bright future he believes he does not deserve until he fixes his mistakes and moves past his regret. He doesn't love Mythal more, he is eaten up by his failure and wants to fix his mistakes, no matter how much it destroys him.
He's more hung up on his failure and his mistakes, rather than Mythal herself. He was under her service, and he needed her to free him in order to move on from his grief, so that he could be free to atone and to love Lavellan, his bright future.
#dragon age#solavellan#solas#solavellen hell#dragon age the veilguard#datv spoilers#solas dragon age#veilguard spoilers#dragon age the veilguard spoilers
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Words for these Times
(I've copied and pasted with tags since that's the best way to be sure you get to see it.)
Hopi Indian Chief White Eagle commented a few days ago on the current global situation:
"This moment that humanity is living through can be considered a door or a hole. The decision to fall into the hole or go through the door is yours.
If you consume information 24 hours a day, with negative energy, constantly nervous, with pessimism, you will fall into this hole.
But if you take the opportunity to look at yourself, to rethink life and death, to take care of yourself and others, you will go through the door.
Take care of your home, take care of your body. Connect with your spiritual home. When you take care of yourself, you take care of others at the same time.
Do not underestimate the spiritual dimension of this crisis. Adopt the perspective of an eagle that sees everything from above with a broader vision.
There is a social demand in this crisis, but also a spiritual demand. The two go hand in hand. Without the social dimension, we fall into fanaticism. Without the spiritual dimension, we fall into pessimism and futility.
You are prepared to go through this crisis.
Grab your toolbox and use all the tools at your disposal. Learn to resist by the example of the Indian and African peoples: we have been and continue to be exterminated.
* But we never stopped singing, dancing, lighting fires and having joy.
Don't feel guilty for feeling lucky in these difficult times. Being sad and without energy doesn't help at all.
* Resilience is resilience through joy!
You have the right to be strong and positive. You have to maintain a beautiful, cheerful and bright posture.
This has nothing to do with alienation (ignorance of the world). It is a strategy of resistance.
When we walk in the door, we have a new view of the world because we have faced our fears and difficulties.
This is what you can do now:
- Serenity in the storm,
- Keep calm, meditate daily,
- Make a habit of encountering the sacred every day.
Demonstrate resilience through art, joy, trust and love."
From Hawk Henries : ( I honestly don't know if the identity of Chief White Eagle is real. Real or not the essence of this message feels important to consider)
And additional comment from one of his fans:
Yes, very good advice indeed! Yes, he was a real person, a chief and a poitician who died in 1914. He fought for Indian rights and homelands during their most troubling times when they were disposed form their native lands and wantonly killed. But, that is why history is important, right? Most of what he speaks to can be applied to certain times affecting the human condition thru history; this is one of those times, so his wise words are both a balm to the soul and a roadmap for going forward into the future.
I'll put the Wiki link in the comments.
Thank you for finding this timely message, Michelle Heddinger!
Mara Clear Spring Cook
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