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sixty-silver-wishes · 1 year ago

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Excerpt from the current draft of my novel, “Counterclockwise”

For anyone living on the outskirts of Rustvale, the Copperflame Lukas was an absolute necessity. Not only could the robot identify over five hundred different metallic substances; the Lukas was programmed to assemble lesser machines from blueprints downloaded into its code, detect valuable materials among piles of discarded scrap, and was equipped with an internal navigation system, allowing it to trek for miles without rest to places humans couldn’t journey to without needing days’ worth of food and water. Like all machines, the Lukas was built to serve humanity, putting an end to the days in which people had no choice but to scavenge for hours in piles of rusted metal for discarded parts, not to mention having to sift for the most valuable ones amid fears of infection or exhaustion. Civilization, perhaps, had advanced with the creation of the Copperflame Lukas- particularly in Rustvale, a city that had been built on the backs of more machines than men.

Oliver Kitt and his daughter Cecilia were a prime example of those such people who depended on the Lukas. It was evident in the tools they worked with, which the robot had been programmed to construct, the way they carried themselves whenever they went into town, and the way they rested easily every night, knowing they had the means to confidently assert that despite the modest conditions of their ramshackle bungalow, they knew where their next meal was coming from. The Lukas was a provider, bringing in their income along with the scraps and materials it returned home with every night, and in return, the Kitts maintained its gears and springs, allowing it to function for as long as it possibly could before the inevitable day where it would be gathered up and disassembled by the next, newer model of Lukas, of which Copperflame was already designing prototypes.

At the bottom of Oliver Kitt’s toolbox, underneath a mess of wrenches and screwdrivers, was an instruction manual, the same that had come with every Copperflame Lukas, although the manual had been updated with every new model. Each page of the manual contained some useful tidbit on the care and keeping of the robot- how to properly clean its rivets, or to program new information within its coding. Oliver Kitt would sometimes take this manual out of the toolbox and read it after dinner, smoking his pipe and basking in the reliability this manual contained, how it secured his very livelihood with its clear, practical technicalities. He had no need for newspapers, with their constantly-changing headlines that always concerned things he had no say in; the Lukas manual, by contrast, was as dependable as the machine it was written about, and a healthy reminder that the means of his livelihood were always under his control, unlike so many other things in his life had been.

“No matter how far its navigation system may lead it,” Oliver Kitt read aloud one evening as he sat in his rocking chair, reading the manual as he so often did, “your Copperflame Lukas will always be able to find its way home. That’s always reassuring, isn’t it, Cecilia?”

“Speaking of that,” his daughter said, looking up from tinkering with something at her worktable, the one the Lukas had constructed for her shortly after they had first activated it. She took her pocket watch from her breast pocket. “It’s getting late. It should be back by now, shouldn’t it?” She adjusted the strap that held her magnifying goggles atop her nose, allowing her a closer look at what she was working with, positioning the crook of her arm over the shapeless mass as to prevent her father from craning over her shoulder while she was working, as he had a habit of doing.

“What time is it?” Mr. Kitt asked.

“Seven fifteen. I believe we programmed it to be back by seven.”

“Are you sure? It’s-”

As if on cue, a bell rang outside their door, and Mr. Kitt opened it to see the very contraption they had been talking about. The rusted automaton, hardly the latest model but still diligent enough to avoid becoming scrap for at least another five years, stood in the doorway, its bronze shoulders weighed down by the sack that it was always handed before lumbering off to the scrapyards. Many years of scrapping had meant the robot’s structure had started to warp and bend out of shape, but it somehow remained capable of carrying almost as much as it had when it left the assembly line.

“It’s here,” Mr. Kitt called to Cecilia.

“Oh, good,” she answered, and went back to her work.

Mr. Kitt turned back to the robot. “Lukas,” he said, addressing it by the command word that allowed it to respond to his voice, “sort the haul from the scrapyards.”

“Sorting will commence,” the Lukas responded in its tinny, slightly warped voice. Copperflame wasn’t known for its voice box technology, and while the Lukas was equipped with many advancements for its time, its scratchy tone wasn’t one of them. “Ten kilos of low-grade iron, point-five meters of copper wiring, two kilograms of platinum alloy…” the Lukas droned, emptying the contents of its sack onto the ground before carefully arranging them by material and size.

“Only point-five meters of copper?” Cecilia asked, pulling her magnifying goggles on top of her head. “Of what quality?”

“Point-five meters of copper wiring of average quality,” the Lukas responded. “Can be extracted from damaged Copperflame Athena circuit boards.”

“What about the rest of the Athena?” Cecilia pressed. “Any data storage units?” While the Athena was an obsolete model, retired five years ago, it was still prized among scrap collectors for the mechanisms that allowed it to store and retain information, designed to hold more than any other Copperflame automaton until its replacement, the Sage, had come along. Sages hardly appeared in scrap piles, and the memory drives of Athenas, despite their lower quality, were much easier to wipe and transfer into other Copperflame products. Even if the Kitts had no use for an Athena storage unit for themselves, it would certainly fetch a decent price on the market- much more than a bit of copper wire could.

“No other components of the Copperflame Athena have been detected,” the Lukas answered.

Mr. Kitt lit his pipe. “Looks like we have competition, then. The other scrappers must be catching up to us; chances are, everything useful in that scrapyard has been salvaged, sold, and melted down before our Lukas can get to it. We should have known this would happen, especially around this time of year.” He took a long draw from the pipe, the smoke curling up into the rafters above them, bringing with it the faint scent of tobacco and cedar.

“The time of year has nothing to do with it; it was bound to happen sooner or later, you know,” Cecilia pointed out. “I’m willing to bet pretty much everyone in Rustvale has better Copperflames than we do; our Lukas has got to be at least ten years old by now. It’s severely outdated, and the new model Copperflame just announced has some significant upgrades- it can polish metals itself, appraise not just the quality, but also the prices of the materials it collects, has a far more sensitive detector, and-” she added pointedly- “a voice box that doesn’t make you want to tear your ears off every time it speaks-”

“We’re not replacing our Lukas until it breaks down,” Mr. Kitt interrupted. “You know we need to save money, and ours works just as well as any other machine out there. We just need to start sending it out earlier and make it work longer; the other scrappers won’t be able to take the parts we need if we get there in time first.”

“Soon enough, the other scrappers will have automatons with built-in weapons to sabotage models like ours,” Cecilia fired back, standing up from her desk. “Rumor has it they’re already selling on the black market; it’s only a matter of time before Copperflame decides it’s a big enough issue to release bots with heightened defense systems, or else they’ll have a lot of unsatisfied customers. Either we get an upgraded Lukas, or we modify this one, and I can’t modify it if I’m not getting the parts I need. So therefore, I say upgrading it is the only logical conclusion, unless you don’t want a Lukas at all. And what does that mean for our family- or should I say, what’s left of it? The Lukas isn’t the only thing here that’s just barely holding itself together, you know.”

“Cecilia,” Mr. Kitt said, the harshness in his tone rising, “you’re not going to bring that up. And furthermore, for the last time, we’re not modifying the Lukas. I told you; it’s fine as it is. You remember the last time you tried to upgrade it.”

Cecilia gasped. “I was a child,” she said. “I’m far more careful now.”

“I won’t hear of it,” Mr. Kitt decided. “We can’t risk getting the Lukas ruined. What do I always say about the Lukas?”

Cecilia pulled her goggles back on, returning to her desk. “We depend on it,” she muttered.

“And what does the instruction manual always say?”

“You’re seriously trying to parent me with the instruction manual for a robot?”

“Cecilia,” Mr. Kitt warned.

Cecilia gave a long sigh, one fist clenched around the pair of pliers she’d been holding. “The Lukas was built with reliability in mind.”

A cold animosity settled like a fog inside the little bungalow, the accumulating sense of quiet only interrupted by the Lukas’ tinny voice as it continued to sort the materials it had gathered. The Lukas, of course, had no idea what had just transpired, nor would it have cared to know if it had any awareness. Not that it had the capability to care, in any case; it simply did not occur to its manufacturers to equip it with such a trivial function as caring. It creaked on its rusted knees, the whirring and buzzing of its cooling fan especially loud against the silence that hung between Mr. Kitt and Cecilia. The piles of metal and glass and semiprecious stones were steadily growing larger and larger as the Lukas’ narrow fingers selected each one from the bag as it proceeded to list what sort of material each fragment was, along with its quality and size. It had no idea that it was the only thing holding the fragile familial relationship between the two humans together, or that Mr. Kitt was too ashamed to tell Cecilia why she had no mother, or that Cecilia resented her father for always dodging the question. The Lukas didn’t know how badly they needed its services, how the household would easily collapse without its tireless work. Its purpose concerned only scrap parts, and that was to be its only purpose until it rusted itself beyond usefulness and eventually broke down. Buzzing out the contents of its seemingly endless inventory, it continued to sort, completely oblivious to the fact that its fate was being discussed right in front of it.

When the Lukas was done sorting, as was the routine, Cecilia and Mr. Kitt carefully gathered each pile of materials, placing them into the drawers that lined one wall from floor to ceiling. Each drawer was labeled, with the ones for the largest materials on the bottom and the smallest materials on top, with some of them so full that they could barely close, and others containing only dust and the odd dead insect. Stacked haphazardly on top of one another, the drawers piled up to the ceiling, meaning the Kitts had to take turns using a stepping stool in order to reach the ones that were highest up, begrudgingly handing it between themselves without so much of a nod of acknowledgement. As angry as they were with each other, this task required cooperation. Cecilia refused to look her father in the eye when she took the stool from him, slamming a drawer shut with an audible thud after depositing a handful of screws in it. Mr. Kitt kept his back to her as he untangled a clump of wires. Occasionally, whenever each came across something that was no use to them, they put it back into the Lukas’ sack for it to return to the scrapyards the next time it arrived there.

Once the sorting was done, and the grandfather clock in the corner of the room coughed out a spluttering chime, Cecilia finally condescended to glance at her father, taking a deep breath before opening her mouth to speak.

“Look, I guess I see your point. All I’m saying is-” she began.

Mr. Kitt interrupted her. “It’s not a matter of discussion,” he said. “The Lukas is staying as it is. When it breaks down, then we can talk about getting a new model, but we’re going to get our money’s worth out of this one. It works just fine; Copperflame is always trying to convince people they need the latest upgrade of this or that automaton, but their old Lukases were made to last. When all the newer models inevitably begin to malfunction in a matter of months, if not weeks, it’ll be our Lukas that brings their parts home from the scrapyards, do you understand?”

Cecilia sighed. “Sure,” she said. “If it gets you to stop talking about it.”

Mr. Kitt shook his head, his eyes ringed with gray exhaustion. “Wash up for dinner,” he said. “I don’t want you working at your desk for too long; you forget to eat sometimes, and those goggles strain your eyes. I’ve already told you how I feel about you wearing them.”

“They’re fine,” Cecilia insisted, “and besides, they used to be yours, anyway.” Nevertheless, she got up from her desk, removing the goggles and dropping them on her desk. She paused before walking past the Lukas, examining the rust that gathered on its dull metallic body. She picked up its hand, wincing as its joints creaked, and turned back towards the drawers of parts from the scrapyard, opening one at eye-level, which was filled with nothing but spindly bronze digits.

“Cecilia,” Mr. Kitt warned.

She sighed, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and left the workroom. Mr. Kitt followed after her, leaving the Lukas standing amid the stacks of drawers and heaps of sawdust, its yellow eyes staring blankly at the mess that surrounded it, sheets of Cecilia’s sketches and stacks of overflowing toolboxes piled about its muddied feet. The Kitts, preoccupied by the stress that occupied their brains, had forgotten to power the Lukas off, but without any sort of command, it could do nothing but wait for them to return, even as its battery continued to drain.

The Lukas, at least, did not feel tired; it was not programmed to. Even if it had the capability to complain, as far as it knew, it had no reason to. Its thermometers read that the temperature in the workroom was cold- only three degrees Celsius, in fact- but this caused it no discomfort. It was true, the Lukas was not supposed to be kept for long in cold environments according to the instruction manual that Mr. Kitt so loved to read, and its worn metal legs would ultimately be slowed on the way to the scrapyards the following day, but it wasn’t bothered by this. If the Lukas had, for some inexplicable reason, been manufactured at the Copperflame factories with the capability to be bothered, bothered wouldn’t begin to describe what it would have been feeling. It would have been exhausted after spending all day at the scrapyards gathering parts that, as its artificial intelligence told it, were mostly worthless, and indignant at Mr. Kitt and Cecilia’s dissatisfaction at what it had brought back, despite the fact that it had salvaged all it could to the best of its ability, and bored of sorting through piles of worthless material, and furious that Mr. Kitt and Cecilia would think to openly discuss replacing it while it stood there working for them, and aggravated by their constant squabbling, and devastated that they would leave for the warmth of their tiny kitchen, leaving the Lukas to the mercy of the elements in the thinly-walled workroom.

It was, in a word, understandable, that Copperflame decided not to give the Lukas the option of being bothered.

#writing #original writing #story #novel excerpt #writeblr #writers on tumblr #counterclockwise #steampunk #sci fi

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sentimentalscientia · 2 years ago

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Ease with languages, fog control. Whatever kind of wolf Itsuki and his were, they seemed to have similar gifts to Garou. Were theirs hereditary? Probably to some extent, if the kid he was talking about and her father both had the same one. And if jealousy was a concern, their gifts probably couldn't be taught. Interesting.

"Unless it's in their nature, people don't usually get jealous without someone making them feel like they should be. Pointing out differences makes them seem more important than they are." Kelly shrugged. "You're doing something right if they're not jealous."

Once upon a time it might have been a slight complication but now? "You ever see someone and think to yourself, 'damn they really shouldn't have become parents'? 'Someone should've stopped them from reproducing'? Got enough self-awareness to know that applies to me. Nature tries to tell us things, some people are just too stupid to listen."

“Jealousy seems like such a natural trait. Even if in just small doses.” He worried more than he let on about how the gifts the little ones had would unfurl. Would there be jealousy and bitterness in the future? “Differences are not pointed out. Just explained when they are noticed. It is my hope that as they grow, whatever we are doing will remain enough. Though I suppose my biggest worry is over the possible jealousy from the ones we have to isolate from the world against the siblings that can still venture into it. But I suppose that is a bridge to be crossed when we get to it.”

“I have seen many such examples. My species of wolf actually has the moniker of keepers of lost children because we would take in the discarded young of others. The little ones that couldn’t be taken care of left at our doors. Babes abandoned in the woods. I brought that trait with me into modern times. I operated a foster home. Some were able to heal and be placed back in human dwellings. For others, our home became permanent. In the worst cases I sought out the biological parents. And I made them take an oath.” The ancient’s eyes hardened. “They had lost their children. And now I was taking their right to have more. If they wanted, they may seek me out to plead their case after resolving whatever issues they had. But if they brought more children into their homes without my permission, it would be the last thing they ever did.” That hardness lingered for a few moments. Fading away as a smile went back to his lips.

“I can’t really say nature is necessarily saying anything. I’ve seen many that shouldn’t have young easily pop many of them out. But I’ve seen those that can’t naturally have them, and many are great at parenting. One of our pack is, as you described, shooting blanks. He claimed a dad role in all the pups’ lives. I have to say. He can be a bit indulgent and has trouble trying to deal with anything regarding discipline, but he’s genuinely wonderful in that role. For our kind, pups are very vulnerable at birth. They can’t regulate their body temperature nor their breathing. Someone must hold them. To keep them warm. To give their lungs something to follow. He’s happily held each pup night after night. Changed diapers. Dressed up as a princess for tea parties. Helped guide them when learning to walk. He is not the type of parent I would ever have to extract an oath from.” His gaze was on the other. Thoughtful and warm. “At present, I am certain you have been beleaguered with all manners of trauma. But I’m not of a mind that it would translate to you being a terrible parent yet.”

#thehighlandhealer #kelly #itsuki

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theuniversesweown · 6 days ago

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Part 2

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Greetings Irene. Staring into the void again, are we?”

Irene could recognize who it was without even looking away from the stars. The clacking of heels and silky voice was too familiar not to.

“Yes, Eudai.” Irene turns to look at Eudai, squinting so his raindance doesn't blind them.

It was always so strange to Irene seeing Eudai in their room, the stark contrast between their dreamy purple walls and his bright yellow silhouette was always jarring. It was never unpleasant though. His long silky hair and welcoming eyes was always a wonderful sight.

“I noticed you did not show up for our meeting. May I ask why?”

Irene’s gaze had fallen off of Eudai and landed on the stars once again.

“I,” they pause, expression softening into a sadder one, “It's because I don't have a solution. If I had come, I would have just made everything worse.”

“DON'T SAY THAT!”

The door to the room suddenly swung open.

So they were still listening.

“YOU ARE OUR FRIEND!! THE ROOM ALWAYS LIGHTS UP WHEN YOUR AROUND!-”

That familiar screeching voice flows into the room , only to be cut off by an angrier voice.

“SHUT UP YOUR GOING TO MAKE EUDAI MAD!”

The more sentimental of the two, Sote, turned to the easily irritated Ares and then they began to bicker away. Despite them disobeying orders, Eudai barely even acknowledged the verbal brawl going between the blue and red figures. Instead he turned to the green figure between the two, Terr, nodding at her and making her immediately drag the others away.

“I am very sorry about them, they just care a lot about you.” Eudai said, some genuine exhaustion in his voice.

It troubles Irene how Eudai had to deal with all of that while they were off sulking to the stars. They never wanted to cause any trouble for the others, especially Eudai.

They find themselves staring at Eudai, his golden hair and uniform seemingly sparkling in the dim lighting. They always found him so enchanting to look at, probably more enchanting then the stars outside of their room; just then their eyes started to hurt, making them turn away. They were then reminded why they don't stare at him as much as they wanted to. They upturned their gaze, looking back up to the stare at the next best thing.

He silently looks at Irene before he smiles, “I notice you changed your appearance again.” Eudai moves up to stand next to them, “I like what you did with your hair.”

Irene instinctively runs their hands through their hair, Dark purple curls flowing along their fingers. They begin smiling before they stop themselves, Focusing on the problem at hand.

“I still don't have a solution.” They move their hands to hug their sides.

Eudia hums at the statement, crossing his arms and prepares to listen to whatever Irene has to say.

“I have spent months trying out different solutions and trying to figure out what could stop humanity forming wars within itself, I've even thought of going down there myself to help! But that would only make any progress too slow for it to get any better before it gets worse. More and more people, my people, my children, are getting hurt every day and the only possible solution that I can think of that would work is-” They stop for a moment, catching their breath.

They did not realize they were starting to panic. They control their breathing, Eudai resting his hand on their back as a form of support.

“The only thing I can think of that would work is starting over completely.”

They cover their eyes with their hands and push on their eyes until their vision starts to speckle. Destroying humanity was unthinkable. Destroying one planet is one thing, as hurtful as it would be, but humanity? Destroying all of it? Everything?

“But that's not an option?”

Irene nods.

All of those aspirations and lives that would be lost to the void, all those hopes and dreams discarded like nothing. Everything being filled with nothing seemed scarier than everything being filled with violence.

This was my first universe, the very first thing I had managed to build all on my own, Irene pressed harder on their eyes, It was going so well, why now? Did something go wrong? Did I do something wrong? Is it all my-

“Shh…” Eudai starts circling the hand he still had on their back and leaned toward them. “It's ok. We don't need to do that. We can figure out another way, ok?”

Irene nods, leaning into Eudai’s touch.

It Felt nice. Being this close to Eudai. They can feel his warmth seep into their body.

They straightened up, Collecting themselves.

“Ok. We can figure out another way.”

“Does that mean you'll be present for the next meeting?”

Irene thinks for a moment before answering, “Yes.”

They finally make eye contact for the first time that night, just in time to see Eudai’s radiant grin. They couldn't help but smile back.

✦

Irene hears their colleagues talking as they move closer to the meeting room, their flat slippers making little noise as they move through the halls. One door they pause at, looking at it. It was very clearly locked very securely, having a security code and chains covering the door. Irene could hear no noise out of this room, they never do, but they still stopped and listened if they could just hear something. They did not. They continue down the hall.

They pass multiple of their colleagues' rooms, all five of them quiet as they go into the already loud meeting room.

“I knew it! They're not coming! I can't believe this!” Ath yells angrily.

Eudai sighs, “Patience Ath, Irene said they were coming.”

“What if they were lying? What if they were lying just so we would leave them alone!?” Sote gasps, “What if they HATE US?!” he says sorrowfully, no doubt having tears at the corner of their eyes.

“That's it! I'm going to get them! I don't care if I have to drag them all the way-”

As Irene reaches the half open door, it swings open, the door almost hitting them in the face. Ath stares at them, face flushed previously with anger now by embarrassment.

“What did I say Ath?” Eudai sits down at his chair at the end of the large table, “Patience.”

Ath softly apologizes and steps to the side, letting Irene come through.

“Irene! Oh thank goodness, we thought you hated us!” Sote clutched his chest, relieved.

“Of course they dont hate us,” Ares smirks, ” hating you though? Most definitely.”

Sote gasps and looks about ready to faint before his brows furrowed at Ares.

“Irene!? Hating ME? H-”

“Sote and Ares.” They both turn to look at Eudai. “Please, let Irene sit down before you start yelling at each other.”

They stare each other down before both walking in opposite directions and sitting in their usual spots across from each other. Irene bows slightly before heading to their normal seat next to Eudai. They sit down, clasping their hands in front of them.

“Hello everyone.” They looked towards her allies, and tried to give them all a relaxed expression, “I apologize for not coming to the last meeting. I was having some trouble mentally, trying to figure all of this out. I'm ready to discuss this with all of you.”

Their eyes were glued to them as Irene spoke. All of them always listened when Irene spoke, except for Ath but even now his eyes were stuck on them as he still stood at the door. It was something Irene could never get used to. Even though they were done talking, all eyes were still on Irene, making them shift uncomfortably in their seat.

“Ath, would you please join us?” Eudai spoke, trying to hide his laugh as Ath jumped.

“Ah! Right, I’ll sit down.”

Terr couldn't help but laugh as Ath walked past her, making him give her the meanest side eye before sitting down across from Eudai.

Terr turns her attention back to Irene, a playful smile on her face.

“Ath sure gave you a warm welcome back didn't he?”

“I had no idea they were coming!” Ath almost immediately jumps up, “It's my job to regulate the rules around here, and attendance to group meetings is a very serious rule!”

She scoffs at him, “Yeah whatever, you're just mad they get to sit next to Eudai.”

Ath’s face becomes a dark shade of orange, becoming momentarily speechless. She holds out her hand and Ares highfives her.

“That has nothing to do with anything! I hold rules above any personal biases!” He then crosses his arms and sits back in his chair, “Unlike someone I know.”

Terr gasps and Ares smashes his fists on the table.

“What the HELL is that supposed to mean!?”

“Why are you two so offended?” Ath gives a malicious smirk, “After all I never said that you-”

“Everyone,” All eyes turn back to Irene, “We need to stay focused on the task at hand. How are we going to fix my universe?”

Ath sighs and seems ashamed, “You're right. We need to stay focused.”

Terr and Ares don't say anything but they nod, seemingly agreeing.

“Stars, I missed you.” Eudai Lets out a breathy laugh, clearly tired from everyone's antics.

#writers on tumblr #writeblr #writerscommunity #writing #gods and deities #gods and goddesses #greek mythology #greek gods #mythology

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angeldcgs · 7 months ago

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devyn wondered if this what what it felt like to be mauled by some sort of predatory animal— the unrelenting pressure of teeth sunk into her throat, and the crushing weight of his body on top of her, the clawing of his hand keeping her pinned. her natural human survival instincts should've been urging her to try and fight back or find some way to escape, and at first, her body had tried. that was the intended purpose of all that squirming, to try and wiggle out of his grasp and have a moment's reprieve from the overwhelming pain, though it wasn't a conscious attempt. her body could tell she was in imminent danger, because it couldn't differentiate between a senseless killer and one with a conscience, the sort who had every intention of leaving his prey intact so that he may get to sample her blood again. eddie wouldn't hurt her— he wouldn't kill her, at least. consciously, devyn knew that, but her body hadn't yet been made aware. just as she was revitalizing him with her very life force, sustaining him and restoring him back to his former glory, her vitality was swiftly draining with every ounce of blood lost. but it wasn't lost, exactly— it hadn't been wasted, or discarded, but rather, it was being used to its full potential. what better form of devotion than to drain her veins in favor of feeding her beloved? had she been capable of cognitive thought while the whole ordeal was taking place, she would've found herself getting sentimental as she remained on the edge of consciousness, finally able to convey her feelings for eddie in a way she'd never be able to articulate out loud, even if she had the guts. to her, it hadn't felt as though their relationship changed once she found out about what he was, because it's not like it was some big secret anyway; he was pretty shit at not acting like a three hundred year old vampire. after this milestone, however, things would most certainly be different. for devyn, she'd be moving forward with the knowledge of what he was truly capable of, and no matter how she claimed to not be afraid, it would forever influence the way she looked at him. what was more worrying was what eddie might feel after, the guilt from having harmed someone he cared for, and the fear of knowing he wasn't in control of himself the way he wished he could be. it seemed more realistic that she'd be the one to be scared off after all was said and done, finding excuses to avoid him until they just stopped seeing each other altogether, but it would be more likely that he would be the one to end their friendship after this. he would claim it was for her own good, and he just wanted to protect her, but devyn wouldn't let him go that easily. if she came out of this in one piece, there would be no separating them for as long as she lived.

her breathing had become a hollow rattle in her chest, each inhale more labored and strained than the last, heart beat slowed to a weak thump while she laid flopped back on the bed. there wasn't anything else she could do, physically unable to keep herself going while being actively drained, the ball fully in his court as to whether she lived or died. before she fully lost her grip on consciousness, there was a brief spark that lit her up inside, a sick sense of excitement felt at that prospect. her life was in his hands— clutched in his jaw, flowing down his throat and dribbling down his chin. for a brief moment there was blinding, delirious euphoria, and then a numbness that lasted god knows how long, because the next thing she knew, eddie's voice was echoing faintly in her ears, somehow able to hear his call from whatever far off realm she'd been transported to, but responding wasn't so easy. she tried to move, tried to reach for him, but she couldn't even lift her arm or open her mouth. all she could do was lay there for a moment, finally regaining enough strength to do a few slow blinks as her breathing began to deepen. the first noise she could make was a low, rumbling groan, like the sound of frankenstein's monster first awakening on the slab. still unable to turn her head to the side to look at him, devyn's vision focused in on the wall her head was angled towards, occasionally going fuzzy on and off as she struggled to keep the image clear. "done?" the word came out as a slurred mumble, her tongue feeling too thick and too dry to properly articulate anything. "did you... you get enough?" carefully, like even the most gentle of movement at all was too much for her, she turned to face him, unfocused gaze barely able to take in the sight of his chin dripping in blood before her lashes fluttered and her head flopped back to rest against he pillow.

there was little use to try and slow himself down, he couldn't slow the speed at which her body gave him her blood and to not suck it all up would be a waste, instead dripping out from her neck and down onto the towel to be cleaned up later. even as her convulsions grew weaker, the hand remained film in his hair, gripping his curls tightly like it was her only connection to reality. he knew all too well what it felt like, it was nothing compared to what it was like to be turned but the pain was something else entirely, there were few things a human could relate it to and despite her consent, eddie knew he'd forever feel guilty for being the one to introduce devyn to that kind of awful feeling. in that moment though, he could barely think about the repercussions, could barely think about anything at all other than how amazing she tasted and how incredible it felt to feel his strength coming back to him. her body was bringing him back to life, her blood reinvigorating not only his body but his mind and soul too. it wasn't just food to him, it was symbolic and sacred and he put more emphasis on the precious nature of a human's blood than other vampires he'd met throughout his life had. the fact it was devyn's blood made it the most special of all, for she was the first human in a long, long time whom he had allowed himself to get close with and form a relationship of sorts. she had figured out what he was and not turned away in disgust, instead, she had offered herself freely and in acknowledgement of the risks; she was unlike anyone he'd ever met before. another drunken hum against her lips and before he knew it, the body beneath him fell limp and the hand previously in his hair fell lame against the bed. it was like being awoken from a dream, the sort where you hadn't even realised you'd fallen asleep in the first place. without that pressure keeping him at least somewhat attached to reality, it would've been so easy to forget about everything other than sucking her dry, taking each last precious drop of blood out of her small frame and gobbling it up like the greedy monster he had been made to be. another minute or so and she'd be dry, hollowed out like an abandoned house, a mere husk of what she once was. it took him longer than he wanted to comprehend what had happened, a couple of seconds still sucking her blood but once he'd snapped out of his haze, eddie pulled back from her neck with a shudder. the two fang marks on her neck continued to ooze blood once his fangs had been freed from their place within her and eddie placed his trembling hand over the wounds to try and stop the flow, though feeling her blood hot against his palm while her skin had become cold and clammy was a horrifying revelation. "devyn-" her blood had given him new strength but he felt weak at the sight of her glazed expression, her breathing shallow and her body as lame as the roadkill he'd stolen for food when particularly desperate. her blood smeared across her cheek from his own as he moved to hover above her, her face quickly cupped within his free palm with the harsh desperation of a man unable to face the possibility of what he had done. she was alive, though he hadn't been paying attention to the telltale signs of her body slowing down. if he had, he could've stopped himself before she'd become so weak, barely clinging to consciousness. "devyn, can you hear me? i'm done, i'm all done, okay? you did it. you did such a good job."

#{ devyn de silva — thread }#{ devyn vs. eddie }#thcophagy

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verus-veritas · 4 years ago

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Legacy

Revenge, Technology, Mind Transference, with a dash of unrequited love. What’s not to love? /Verus

"Dude! P-please! I'm sorry! Whatever you think I've done, it must all be a mistake!" Andew yelled, thrashing against his confinements and eyeing the only point of exit in the room. His firm muscles were wet and taut against his clothes, and his handsome face flush red with terror and worry.

"Are you really sorry though? It didn't seem like it from the way you acted during Gavin's funeral. The sneers and laughter you made as his parents said their final words to him..." I said, hiding in the shadows. Only my feet and the contours of my body was visible for him to see.

"N-no offense. I just found it funny when the parents said they wish he'd atleast gotten a girlfriend before he passed away-" The same devious sneer returned on his perfectly handsome face, as he most likely remembered the scene in his head.

"Of course you found it funny. Because you knew he was completely gay. Gay, and had a massive crush on you for ages. He literally worshipped the ground you walked on, and spent most of his waking hours wishing he could be with you." I explained, slowly walking around him as I pulled out a flimsy latex cap with electronical nodes attached to it.

"And I let him. I did no wrong." Andrew talked back. His eyes following my figure until I stood directly behind him.

"No! You lead him on, made him believe you were actually interested in him. And then you destroyed him. You are the reason he ran out of the house crying, and you are the reason he didn't see the truck speeding towards him!" My voice was shaking as I quickly slapped the cap onto his head, accidentally pulling out a few strands of his hair.

"Ouuch! Get this thing off me!" He shook his head and began thrashing about again.

"You know. He really loved you... He said he was going to make you the happiest man on earth. Showering you with gifts and undying love, and be by your side forever and ever. That's why he trusted you so wholeheartedly and let you do whatever you wanted."

"Naive..." He quietly muttered under his breath.

"He was even fine with you staring and drooling over other girls. As long as he could stay by your side."

"What a fag..." I could hear him gritting his teeth.

"But that evening when you invited him over, only to have him find you in the bedroom hooking up with a random girl... that completely ruined him. You shattered his dream, his self-confidence, and his sensitive soul! He didn't know what to do and where to go, which is why he ran straight out into the traffic..." My voice was uncontrollably going up and down now, as I was unable to hide my emotions.

"Dude only had himself to blame. He should've known I only had him around for the free stuff he bought for me." Andrew snickered, as he looked down at the expensive shorts Gavin had bought for him a few weeks prior.

"How dare you!" I tried to punch his shoulder, but knew I was too weak to do any real damage against his hard muscles.

"Y'know... it almost sounds like you had feelings for him- Wait a minute! You're that pastry white kid that always walked around with him aren't you?! Hah! 'Ghost boy' we called you!" The tone in his voice shifted - with more confidence and arrogance. Back to the way he normally talked - a manipulative bastard at heart. "I see. So you best friend Gavin never had feelings for you, and now that he's gone you blame yourself for not having stopped him."

"......" I clenched my hands till my knuckles turned white.

"Hah! Maybe you really were a horrible friend. Have you thought about that you might be the reason he's dead?" He laughed, obviously enjoying the way he was toying with my feelings.

"...you have no idea..." I mumbled, as tears began to flow down my cheeks.

"Maybe you should be the one sitting in this chair - tied up and wearing this stupid cap on your head. Hehe."

I took a deep breath and calmed myself, before walking around him once again and turning so he could see me. See the real me... one last time. "I will. Soon."

"W-what do you mean with that? And why are you also wearing that ridiculous cap?" He asked. His tone in voice once again becoming panicked and anxious.

"You see. The reason why I'm so pale is because I spend so much time at home playing with my inventions and devices. Coding is one of my favorite things to do. And for the last few months I've relentlessly been working on creating this device we're both wearing right now. It was originally only meant to be used on you, recoding the patterns in your brain into loving Gavin as much as he loved you. While also erasing all of your bad traits and turning you into his ideal boyfriend... but there's no reason for that anymore, is there? So, I upgraded it into 2.0, which can now be used with two people."

"P-pff... yeah right... and what does this new version do then?"

"It can transfer the consciousness between two human brains. Even recoding the brain into believing the new consciousness have always been in control of its own body. All the memories, habits, and even muscle memory will be easily accessible to the new permanent owner." I explained, as I began fiddling with a machine by our side. The nodes on our caps lit up.

"Permanent?! Wait a minute. Let's say all of this freaky sci-fi stuff is actually real, what's going to happen to my consciousness?" Andrew asked, as he began to get more anxious by the beeping sound of the nodes on his head.

"All gone. Overwritten by mine. Erased out of existence with no way of restoring it." I answered nonchalantly. Flicking the last switched around, the device was now ready to be activated.

"What the fuck! Then you're basically killing me?! Get me out of here, you sick freak!" He began violently thrashing against the back of the chair, and flung his head around to get the latex cap off... but to no avail.

"Am I really though? Your memories, your body, and your relationships will all still be here, under my complete control. I'm just... discarding a small part of you that's no longer necessary."

"No...no... Help! HELP! SOMEONE!! THIS CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER IS GOING TO KILL ME!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, but the soundproofed walls would do him no good.

I flicked the final switch and walked over to him as the machine began buzzing. Standing in front of him, I suddenly sat down on his lap and grabbed hold of his face. I stared into his fearful yet piercing blue eyes and slid my hands across the cheeks and contours of his face.

"This beautiful face of yours that Gavin loved, I promise I'll take good care of it and cherish it until the day I die. It's the least I can do to honor my friend Gavin." I leaned forward and gently laid a kiss on his sweaty forehead, while holding him in place as he screamed for all he was worth.

"No! Noo! NOoO-Uoogguuughhhh" His scream turned into a gurgle as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. At the same time, my eyes went white and hazy as my pastry body slumped over and fell on the cement floor. Most likely cracked open its head or something from the sound of it.

"NgOOuoouughhgguuuhh!!!" Andrew's head flung back and forth as if to fight whatever was invading his head, but it barely took a minute before the thrashing suddenly stopped and his head slumped down.

His eyes were closed, his face flushed red from exertion, and the sweat and drool pooled down onto his expensive shorts. A further five minutes of stillness and blinking nodes passed before any activity was seen.

---

*Gasp*

I awoke to the cap on my head giving me a quick electric shock. In front of me laid my old withered body, lifeless and without a doubt stone dead. My throat felt dry and tired, and the ties on my arms hurt like hell. In fact, everything felt, looked, and smelt different. The smell oozing from my sweaty clothes that once smelt great now stunk in my nose. I could recall from Andrew's memories that he showered atleast twice a day. I showered atleast twice a day.

After some fiddling with the special knots in my back, I easily slipped the rope off. Massaging the sore parts on my wrist, I soon relished in how big and strong my new hands looked now. Hands who should've been holding Gavin's...

I explored further up till I reached my new bulging biceps. Squeezing them I felt how firm and taut they were. I never in a million years would have managed to get myself this big, but here I was, standing in the body of a perfect specimen. The body of the man who my friend loved, but who didn't truly love him back. If only I could've done this before Gavin died... Would he have loved me instead, or would he have hated me for what I had done? Well, atleast he would've been alive.

My focus went to my Andrew face, as I caressed the blemish-free skin and the small stubble forming on it. The face of the man I had hated for a while, the face of the man whose identity I would have to take over, and the face I would see in the mirror for as long as I breathed. It was one of the most handsome faces I've ever laid my eyes on no doubt, so I'm perfectly fine with that decision.

My hands continued to explore what was now mine; running fingers through my lush but wet hair, following the outline of my cobblestone abs, and shaking my strong and muscular legs awake from sitting too long.

Not long after I finally slipped the drool and sweat-soaked shorts off myself and watched as the tool between my legs arose to its new owner. It might not have been as long as my former one, but the very girth of it made up for it. As I enveloped it between my palms, I realized that no one had ever been as intimate with Andrew's tool as I was now, and no one would ever be. Not even Gavin would if he was somehow resurrected. Only I, Andrew would ever know how this throbbing member would feel in my own hands, the endorphins and pleasure its touch would send throughout my amazing body, and the ultimate earth-shattering orgasms I would experience as I edge myself to climax every day from now on.

The very thought of it immediately brought me to the brink of orgasm, so I quickly spread my legs apart and thrust the member fully through my grasp. It was all that was needed as I suddenly began shaking with pleasure and exploded shot after shot of Andrew seed all over the floor, myself and my former lifeless body."Ugh! Uuuugh! UUUuOOGggHH!!"

“.... Holy shit.....” I moaned, slightly shocked by the unfamiliarity of the new voice coming from my throat.

Reeling from my first ever orgasm in my new body and life, I sat back down on the chair and took a breather. I was sweaty, my crotch sticky, and my armpits stunk. Yet, I know I still looked glorious. How couldn't I? After all, I am Andrew. The man who Gavin loved, and who loved him back just as much, if not even more...

I will dedicate this new life of mine to worship and care for this body just as much as Gavin would have. His legacy, Andrew's body and life, and my consciousness have finally become one... and I promise I will carry them with pride and confidence to the grave... even if it is the only thing I will accomplish in this short insignificant life of mine.

#possession #revenge #selflove #love #dark #permanent #identity theft #mine

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flickeringart · 3 years ago

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Pluto in Virgo & Pluto in Sagittarius

If you’d like to gain more insight on Pluto in the signs, I have a (5 page) document where I briefly explore the generations with Pluto in Capricorn through Pluto in Cancer. It’s available for purchase here. I also have a post on what it means to have Pluto in the houses that you can access here. In addition to this I also have several posts on Tumblr where I explore this planet in different contexts if you’re interested in reading.

In this post I’m going to illustrate the inevitable friction that is going to be felt between the Pluto in Virgo generation (1957-1972) and the Pluto in Sagittarius generation (1995-2008). These signs are square each other, which means that any planets that occupy these signs won’t see eye-to-eye and put pressure on each other to do things differently. When Pluto comes up against Pluto in synastry, this is particularly unpleasant – Pluto is a planet of destruction and eventually, of “resurrection” and transformation.

Pluto role in our personal lives has the function of making us aware of power – of our own, other people’s as well as the power in the world at large. It does this through awakening our deepest fears and terrors, of triggering powerlessness, of threatening to strip us of all external power and pushing us over the threshold of no return. We’ve all felt Pluto work through us when we’ve had murderous thoughts or felt powerless enough to consider anything. Pluto drags us into the depths and makes us stay there long enough for us to become familiar with it – to fully embrace life and put no conditions on it. This is how the fear dies. The process of getting there can take time and involve a lot of violence, suffering and despair. One only has to look at human history to see that this is the case. Hopefully, we are learning over many lifetimes and parallel existences to transform into true strength and realization of immortality and we won’t have to fear loss or destruction anymore.

The nature of our personal “power journeys” depends on the generation we were born into. Having Pluto in Virgo means that power is sought through the intellect and trying to sort out the practical details of life. In other words, it’s through disintegration and destruction of the daily routines and structures that this generation of people has to face their biggest fears. Mental and bodily health can easily become obsessions that can push these types to do anything in the name of properly labeling and categorizing conditions. Not knowing is the most dangerous state to be in for these people because they have to be on top of things mentally. Members of this generation would be prone to overwork, to go to great lengths to organize their lives seamlessly in order to feel in control. Unfortunately, the more this power is exercised, the greater the fear that everything is going to collapse. If the formula doesn’t work, if people don’t do their jobs effectively, if people aren’t humble enough, this generation might be prone to rage. Virgo is a very sensitive sign in the sense that it picks up on the little things. It likes for people to extend their efforts to be of service to the greater whole, to use the intellect to manage daily living and pay attention to how things work. Pluto in Virgo people have been traumatized by not being able to have a healthy lifestyle, of not being valued for their efforts and work, of being discarded and given poor justifications for why things are done a certain way. They can be pushed into a place of despair that motivates them to force order no matter what. I’m thinking of professor Umbridge from Harry Potter and how this character truly embodies Pluto in Virgo – she will have “order” and any means to get there is justified, even if it takes abusing students and controlling their every move, preventing them from learning valuable skills that would grant them more autonomy and freedom. She’s merciless and relentless, just like Pluto.

The generation with Pluto in Sagittarius will inevitably put pressure on the Virgo generation because it exercises power differently and won’t be very happy to submit to imposed, "meaningless" routine and fixed processes. Sagittarius is a sign of belief, of freedom, of living for the day, of openings and opportunities. It’s a fire sign and tends to be more volatile and careless than the practical, earthy and analytical Virgo. People of this generation seek power through expanding their minds, through opening themselves up to possibilities, through searching for truth. In this process, these people are inevitably going to face destruction of prior beliefs, which is going to leave them stranded and abandoned without anything to live for. They are going to have their faiths destroyed many times in order to gain true self-generated power. Until then, they’re prone to obsessively latch on to all kinds of higher truths in order to be able to see a future for themselves. They might fear a loss of hope, a loss of spirit and the loss of meaning in life. This generation will do anything to find a sense of purpose and faith. They will not take well to anyone that opposes “truth” and might try to force people to gain some kind of insight into what life is about through “teaching them lessons”. Pluto in Sagittarius isn’t going to force people into routines or organizations like the Pluto in Virgo generation would attempt to do in order to stay in control, instead this placement would try to force realization through leaving people with nothing to hold onto except their own spiritual guidance system. They would be prone to crush belief in others and question their direction in life in order to make people realize that they need to live off of their own self-generated faith.

While Pluto in Virgo is set up to learn to master the material realm in terms of managing chores and following the right steps to perfect overall health and well-being without fear, Pluto in Sagittarius is set up to master the spiritual realm in terms of trusting without proof of meaning and living without a bright future to look forward to. However, this is going to take time and it’s not going to be easy for anyone. Pluto pushes everyone to the edge. The Pluto in Virgo generation will have to face the brutal reality of not having everything under control, of losing grip, of not getting it right, of doing things wrong, of not living in healthily according to research and processed data. The Pluto in Sagittarius generation will have to face the brutal reality of having nothing left to believe in, of moving through the day without deeper meaning and purpose, of having no spiritual context that makes sense, of learning things that don’t make life easier and have no spiritual substance.

---

If you want to read the whole post it's available on Patreon. By subscribing you'll have access to a lot of astrological content that I don't share on Tumblr.

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stellocchia · 4 years ago

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There were a few interesting posts today that got me back into thinking about c!Dream’s and c!Tommy’s relationship and, more exactly, how it got to the point we are at now.

As always turns out I’m terrible at being brief so everything under the cut...

Now there are a few things we know by now:

Dream promotes both the idea that Tommy is the origin of all conflict on the server and that he is the reason for the existence of attachment on the server, all neatly expressed in this quote from the season 2 finale:

“You’ve brought war, you brought terrorism, you’ve brought bad everything! But! But! The cause of all the wars, of everything, was attachment, alright? (...) That’s the one good thing that you’ve done. The one good thing you’ve done is that you brought attachment to the server”

And, well, the seacond thing is what Dream uses as an excuse for his obsession (I made a more in-depth rant on that here) because he thinks that controlling attachments is the only way to obtain the absolute power that he wants.

Dream has also pushed multiple times the idea that Tommy is entertaining for him, too much to let go in fact. Callback to that one line on Doomsday on the obsidian grid:

“I don’t think that our story will ever be over Tommy” “Oh I think it will be” “I think that you’re just too fun”

And lastly we know that this weird level of focus that Dream has on Tommy is not something new. I’d date it as back as the original disk war with Dream going exclusively after Tommy to a great extent for something that wasn’t his crime alone, but even more interesting was the declaration of war against L’Manburg (a nation started in fact by Wilbur) which opened up with:

“Tommy! (pause) And Wilbur and the rest of L’ManChildburg, we are at war”

Which, if you haven’t noticed, not only addresses Tommy first but continues to relate the country to him more so then Wilbur with the later insult (”child” is literally a Tommy specific insult). There are also a ton of other instances in season 1 that point to this whole focus not being something new (again, you can find more here).

The information that we lack is how and why it became like this.

The qualities that Dream points out in Tommy that make him stand out to him are the fact that he’s fun, doesn’t do what Dream wants him to and gets attched to things, places and people very easily.

And as a matter of fact, all this qualities are unique to Tommy in one way or the other. Every single person out there, aside from Tommy (not considering exile), has at some point bent down to Dream giving him the power that he craves, be it by seeking his approval to consider their country independent or simply working for him and following his order.

Fun is something subjective, but it’s not so hard to infere that Dream gets easily bored of people. He discarded his friends easily enough and when Tubbo lost his use to him he didn’t only describe him as “useless” but as “boring”, which is arguably worse from Dream’s point of view. Tommy? Well, Dream wanted to share immortality with him, I doubt he thinks he’s gonna get bored of him any time soon...

A lot of other people (literally everyone I would say) have attachments in one way or the other, often even pre-dating Tommy’s arrival on the server, but while, before Tommy, people have retaliated when their attachments were stolen or destroyed, no one evr went to quite the same extent as Tommy, though that is because Tommy’s attachments were exploited by someone who was obsessed with him and unwilling to let him get over it or keep them safe. Of course that does means that no one has gone to Tommy’s extent BUT Dream.

And here we get to my theory:

I think that the reason behind Dream’s obsession is that he thinks that Tommy is like him, much like Wilbur ended up doing towards the end of his life. It’s weird to say because Dream has made such a big narrative about Tommy being a troublemaker and being bad and all that that people forget that that’s EXACTLY how Dream is. Dream has FUN with chaos. He destroyed L’Manburg to bedrock because it was more fun then just hurting Tommy. He helped Tommy with the whole “battle of the Lake” thing because he had FUN destroying stuff, he even admitted to that!

Of course there is the fact that Dream supposedly has no attchments, while Tommy has many, but, by Dream’s own admission, it wasn’t always like that, He cut out his attachments voulountarily, but he doesn’t really want Tommy to cut his (limit them to something easily controllable by Dream like the discs yes, but not loose them entirely) because that’s the bullshit explaination he is giving himself for why he can keep Tommy as an attachment without him making him weak.

Basically, what I’m saying is that Dream has projected a LOT on Tommy to the point where he thinks they are so similar that he could get some kind of understanding from him (callback to Dream in prison spouting all that bs about how exile was actually good, or any time he talked about everything as a game between him and Tommy or him in prison trying to convince Tommy to work with him/become immortals together). Dream has a very twisted view of the world but, at his core, he is still somehow human and still wants companionship and the one who was unfortunate enough to be chosen for that was Tommy.

Also for the “when did this obsession start” thing I honestly think it was gradual. There were ALWAYS hints of it from the very start of things, there was always more focus on Tommy from Dream then it was reasonable for there to be, but it got worse and worse over time. The biggest shift seem to have happened when Dream acquired the Revival Book, maybe a case of that “power over life and death going to your head” thing. Regardless I really don’t think there was a catalyst per se, more so Dream’s world view twisting more and more and him gradually becoming dependent on Tommy because of it.

#dreamwastaken #tommyinnit #dream smp #c!dream #relationship analysis #character analysis #long post #my post #I hope this whole ramble made some sense #I kinda was thinking about stuff as i wrote so I'm not sure how cohesive it is #but still the tl:dr is everyone loves projecting their issues on c!tommy and c!dream is no different #who would have thought?

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hanatiny · 4 years ago

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Aim To Please

a/n: I’m aware that certain kinks in this may not sit well with some people, but I have a very specific target audience for this one so :) a/n 2: happy birthday to the stressed mom Seonghwa, hope he eats well and has a good day~ <3

pairing: incubus!Seonghwa x f!reader

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 1866

warnings: consensual somnophilia, unprotected sex, noona kink, pet names, Hwa has a gun kink, he's also a whiny service top, praise kink, marking (both biting and light scratching), brief mention of overstimulation, orgasm control

-----

Seonghwa had been visiting you somewhat regularly for a couple months now. He first came to you in a dream while you were feeling lonely and then another night, when you found yourself unable to sleep, he actually physically materialised in front of you.

Incubi were said to simply come to 'their human' for sex and that was that, they would leave once they got what they wanted.

Seonghwa, however, was a little different. He had a bit of a childlike curiosity to him, ironic as it seemed for an immortal demonic creature, and you adored the way his eyes would light up like shooting stars every time you'd talk to him and tell him about your day or simply recount a memory you happened to be fond of.

You grew attached to each other rather quickly and easily, a strong emotional bond forming between the two of you that one wouldn't necessarily think possible.

And so, when he arrived this particular night, he couldn’t help but pout a little when he found you fast asleep in your bed. Then again he couldn’t really blame you, it was sometime between 2 and 3am after all. In all honestly, he was relieved to see you get some rest, knowing how you struggled at times.

He visited you for a different reason tonight though; it was his creation day - or birthday, a word he learned from you that meant essentially the same thing in human terms, which he used interchangeably.

He wanted to celebrate it with you and to do so, he’d either have to wait until you'd awaken on your own accord, or wake you up himself. He technically wanted to do neither but he was an incubus, so he did the one thing that he knew how to do.

Hesitating for a beat, then, Seonghwa's face blossomed a cherry red when he recalled how you had previously informed in a conversation that he had been given explicit permission to have his way with you whenever he pleased.

Feeling the mattress dip beneath his weight, he carefully maneuvered himself onto the mattress to hover above you. Seonghwa, careful and gentle as ever, balanced himself on one hand while lifting the other to brush a few strands of hair out of your face.

Your expression was peaceful as you slept, head tilted slightly to the side, and he couldn't help but coo softly at the sight while he briefly lost himself in his own thoughts.

How would he ever tell you that he had fallen in love with you, someone belonging in a different world...? He had yet to figure it out.

He shook his emotional dilemma off in favor of trailing his lips down from your jaw over your neck and collarbone with slow, deliberate kisses. You stirred slightly with a soft hum, remaining asleep.

Seonghwa’s soft lips attached themselves to your skin to gently suck a marking near your shoulder. Once satisfied, he pulled back and his hands went to free your sleeping form from the blanket it was covered with.

He froze in his tracks for a brief moment, not having expected you to be dressed exclusively in an oversized t-shirt. He bit his lip and toyed with the hem of the piece of fabric that still covered your body before pushing it up to under your breasts for easier access to where he wanted to be.

His hands established a gentle but firm grip on your thighs and parted them for him while he nipped all over the skin of your stomach, trying to distract himself and not turn bright red once more from the realization of your lack of underwear.

Like the gentle man he was, Seonghwa glided his fingertips over your inner thighs with featherlight touches and if it wasn’t for the airy giggle you let out, having known you were rather ticklish, he would have thought you couldn’t feel him at all.

You leaned into his touch slightly out of instinct when his fingers ghosted over your slit to see if you were wet enough to take him - he knew it could be painfully if either party isn’t aroused to a more than sufficient level. But, to his relief, you were practically dripping, which led him to believe you may have been having a wet dream. Little did he know, you had been in a limbo between asleep and awake ever since his hands first came into contact with your heated skin.

Seonghwa was way too focused on his task to notice your state of half-consciousness, and he didn’t even connect the dots when you mewled out loud after he had discarded his pants and gradually pushed his length into your entrance.

Once he bottomed out, he whined softly as he began to rock his hips into you and it surprised you time and time how gentle he’d start off with you - as if you were a porcelain doll and he was afraid of breaking you - and that you’d always, without fail, remind him that he didn’t have to be, that you could take it.

There was a tenderness in his actions that you couldn’t quite place. You refused to believe that the root of it was love.

It was when his voice went high-pitched with a shaky “N-noona..~” that your eyes flew open, thankful for his lack of focus on you while he moaned softly, your hand blindly fumbling for something under the pillow next to you.

Your fingers finally took hold of and wrapped around the cold metal item, pulling it out from where you hid it until mere seconds ago, and Seonghwa’s hips stuttered slightly when he heard a familiar soft click, but he only snapped his gaze back forward to look at you wide-eyed as he felt a gun barrel pressed to the side of his head.

“Noona, I-”

“Hush, sugar. You’ll be good and listen to every word I say, yeah~?” You smirked up at him as he nodded and let out a desperate whine of affirmation.

It was a peculiar kink of him to have to want to call you noona, you mused, considering that he was a century old creature and you physically would not be able to top that as a human being. But you figured that it wouldn’t hurt to indulge him, considering that no one in his past seemed to have done so based on his delight when you complied and agreed.

Whimpers from the man above you pulled you back into the present reality as you watched him struggle to keep up a rhythm with the gun pressed to his head. You cooed at how good of a job he was doing regardless, “Such a good boy, fucking noona good just how he knows she likes it...~”

Seonghwa cried out, his face flushed because of how he submissive he acted, contrary to how he usually at least tried to appear to be.

“Mhm, my pretty babyboy figured he could use my body for his own pleasure, similar to how the rest of his kind does hm~? It’s cute, really.” You purred, unable to stop a moan from slipping from your lips while your grip on the loaded gun tightened slighly, although you made sure to keep your fingers away from the trigger just in case.

“You make noona feel so good, sugar, just like you’re meant to...~” You smiled up at Seonghwa with a so obviously deceiving sweetness that made his pouty lips tremble slightly, a few strands of his messy hair sticking to his slightly sweaty forehead.

You knew the telltale signs of when he was about to cum, your first trist with the demon having been what felt like years ago although it only lied back a few months.

“I-I... Noona, ‘m already close...~” He panted softly above you, causing you to coo as he twitched inside of you, a smile tugging at you lips.

“Mhm I can tell, baby~ You can hold it in for a little longer for noona, no?” Your voice carried a lilt as you hummed and it unsettled Seonghwa that he couldn’t quite place it, but he nodded eagerly nonetheless, not willing to even so much as risk disappointing you.

“Y-yeah!” He gasped softly when you suddenly wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him even deeper inside of you, your back arching as you did so, “Good boy...~ Oh fuck, right there-”

You hissed lowly under your breath, having unintentionally pushed the tip of your lover’s cock right into the spot that would make you come undone. Seonghwa whined loudly and desperately above you as he continued his almost frenzied thrusts into your heat, his head thrown back and his body on the verge of overstimulation when you found your climax around his length.

It was convenient for him to be so well-endowed, you mused, since he was able to hit the most pleasurable spots deep inside of you with ease.

“P-please noona, I-I can’t-”

“Cum, Seonghwa.”

And just like that, with two simple words, he let go and released himself inside of you, a soft moan drifting from you at the feeling of warmth spreading through your body.

Seonghwa panted softly as he slowly came down from his high, reaching to caress your cheek as if in a trance while you dropped the hand holding the gun onto a pillow next to the two of you before letting go of the item entirely.

Having caught your breath, you nudged him to roll over, which he willingly did after carefully pulling out of you.

You turned to face him, tenderly threading a hand through his hair as he pouted at you.

“Y/n-”

“Shh, I know Hwa. I should get cleaned up... but I’m too tired, so I’ll just shower in the morning.” You smiled reassuringly, to which he relaxed as well and wordlessly wrapped his arm around you to pull you close and cuddle you.

“Happy birthday...~” You murmured before drifting off, leading Seonghwa to coo softly at you in endearment as he held you close to himself protectively.

You were truly the only gift he could ever want and need.

When you woke up the next morning, it was in an entirely different position than the one you fell asleep in. Shifting in your bed, you realized that your supernatural companion had cleaned both himself and you in the night before making sure to dress you appropriately so you wouldn’t be cold.

You found your gun on the nightstand next to you a few moments after, along with a small note Seonghwa must’ve written in a hurry if the handwriting on it was anything to go by.

‘Thought I’d allow myself to clean you up so you could stay under your comfy blankets a little longer. Hope you don’t mind :)’

There were a few hearts scribbled all over the piece of paper, and your head fell back against your pillow with a knowing smile and a happy sigh.

You were glad the incubus seemed to reciprocate your feelings, and you’d be sure to tell him so when he would return.

“I love you too, Hwa.”

----- Taglist:

@cometoceantrenches @ddeonghwva @galaxteez @innosintsan @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @nightqueennyx @vocalyunho @yunhoes-twancings-nsfw @yunhoiseyecandy

Network tag:

@8makes1teamnet

#8makes1teamnet #ateez smut #seonghwa smut #ateez seonghwa smut #seonghwa fluff #someone please appreciate my pun-#hanatiny writes #park seonghwa smut

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hiccanna-tidbits · 3 years ago

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The RotBTD+ Gang Plays DnD! (Feat. my ships, sorry not sorry XD)

So highkey I’ve actually been wanting to do a “The Gang Plays DnD” type post for AGES now, but then I saw @hobie-brown and @ohlooksheswriting-wips do DnD AU posts for RotBTD, and then I was like “Ah shit, I really should finish mine, eh?” So thank you to both of you for inspiring me to get off my ass and actually write the post!!!

Hiccup DMs. He comes up with this super complex plot revolving around dragons (because of course) where the party has to dismantle this society ruled by evil knights who want to genocide all of the dragons. Imagine his chagrin when the party wants to do nothing but fuck around in towns and aggravate NPCs 90% of the time.

They usually end up playing at Jack’s apartment, mainly because Hiccup’s dad doesn’t really want a bunch of loud nerds yelling about 20-sided dice in his household while he’s trying to work, if he can at all help it. Jack’s sister regularly barges into their living room and roasts the fuck out of Jack and his friends for being such damn nerds and eats all of their DnD snacks they’ve set out. If they’re in the middle of a combat session, she always gleefully proclaims that they’re all going to die. While Jack is annoyed by this, the rest of the party finds it deeply hilarious.

Jack Overland plays the absolute mayhem warlock Jack Frost, who got his powers through making a deal with the archfey Prince of Frost and has absolutely no qualms about being an evil god’s mortal Sower of Chaos. He spends the vast majority of the campaign doing such useful things as creating ice slicks under annoying NPCs and freezing people’s drinks. He also plays a Tiefling because absolutely no one can talk this boy out of playing the creepy demon race.

Rapunzel plays a woodland nymph druid who is also the party healer (because of course she is). Her name is probably Sunlily or something else suitably hippie-esque. Whenever there’s downtime (or whenever the rest of the party is also dicking around, and she can get away with it), Rapunzel likes to go into the nearest forest and pick the best berries and nuts for the rest of the party. She also loves baking fruit pies and cooking the best nymph food for her companions when given the chance. Definitely the party Cinnamon Roll (every party has one!). She often will turn into cute animals to distract the guards while the party infiltrates a building.

Merida’s character is the party archer and general ranged weapon master, as well as a raging lesbian. Hiccup learns very quickly that any male NPC who tries to flirt with her will very quickly get impaled with an arrow. She can’t ever decide if she wants to be a ranger or a rogue, so she multiclasses in both for flare. She also plays a Tiefling, and continually insists that her character is both scarier and sexier than Jack’s. In combat, she either Leeroy Jenkins her way in with a sword and just starts slashing every which way, or just shoots 90% of the enemies with arrows before the fight even starts. There’s really no in between. She can get away with this because she’s highkey one of the party tanks, and consistently deals a shitton of damage.

Anna plays a human bard, basically having read over the class options and going “Wait, in this one I get to make stylish medieval music??? And wear dramatic and garish outfits and a dumb hat??? And cast wacky illusion spells??? And do silly little magic tricks??? And INSPIRE EVERYONE??? Hell yeah, I’m in!!!” She mostly uses magic attacks in combat (definitely favors Tasha’s Hideous Laughter), but occasionally when she’s out of spell slots she’ll just take to slamming enemies in the face with her lute. She also has WAY too much fun with Vicious Mockery, let’s be real.

Elsa, upon hearing Jack’s character concept, rolls her eyes so far up in her head she can see her damn brain, and vows to play his concept, but serious–solely out of spite. She rolls up a super OP elf Chaos Sorcerer, filled with lots of brooding angst about how uncontrollable her winter powers can get if she isn’t careful. She combines it a bit with Storm Sorcerer so she can create literal blizzards, and Hiccup ends up allowing it just because he thinks it’s cool. Although Elsa’s character is undoubtedly aggravated by the rest of the party’s antics, she starts becoming grudgingly protective of these idiots and can deal some pretty crazy damage when her companions are threatened. She also contains one of the party’s only brain cells.

Eugene of course plays dashing rogue master thief Flynn Rider. Although his high deception and lockpicking skills certainly come in handy, he’s the most chaotic neutral fucker you’ve ever met and will take any excuse to rob NPCs blind or cheat them out of every cent they have in a tavern card game. It’s nigh impossible to get him to cooperate with the rest of the party much of the time, and often Elsa’s character has to either bribe him with some of her family’s gold or threaten to freeze him to stop him backstabbing one or more party members. Eugene’s character forces Hiccup to add in many more heist plotlines than he originally intended. This delights Eugene immensely, and sometimes he goes a bit crazy planning elaborate heists.

Moana plays a sorcerer water genasi. She can control any body of water, but she has a special affinity for controlling saltwater (i.e. the ocean lol). She also requests an animal handling bonus, but only with marine animals, solely because she thought it would be funny. She’s also an ex-pirate who robbed a lot of wealthy merchant ships and freed their slaves back in the day, which Merida thinks is incredibly badass. Moana tends to get bored and unengaged when there are no bodies of water to play around with, so Hiccup ends up having to add a lot more lakes, rivers, and oceans to the campaign than he originally planned on. Moana also takes a sailing skill, and thus the party often ends up traveling by boat. Typically Eugene and Rapunzel will infiltrate and hijack it, and Moana will sail it. Moana probably contains the party’s only other brain cell.

Astrid plays a gigantic berserker orc barbarian who is never without his trusty axe. Astrid is hands down the party’s top tank, and unquestionably deals the most damage every combat session. Much like Merida’s character, Astrid’s character is absolutely a shameless power fantasy. Hiccup pretty easily picks up on this, but is too polite to say anything about it. Jack also picks up on this, but is hardly as courteous as their DM, and teases Astrid mercilessly. Astrid is not amused.

Rapunzel requests that her weapon of choice be a frying pan, her justification being that her character found a discarded one at the edge of a human village outside her woods and mistaked it for a highly-dangerous human weapon. Hiccup is like “…you know what? Fuck it” and rolls up stats for a goddamn frying pan. Jack has nigh-endless admiration for Rapunzel for choosing such a goddamn memey, absurd, yet oddly effective weapon and it definitely makes the poor boy even more smitten with her than he already is.

Eugene and Merida have a bet going on who can sleep with more sexy barmaids. Merida is currently winning, much to Eugene’s chagrin. She’s not even inherently better at seducing NPCs, she and Eugene have the same charisma stat–she just consistently rolls better than Eugene. Eugene is incredibly salty about this.

Anna and Elsa want to be sisters in-game as well, but neither want to change their race–so Anna decides her character was adopted. Hiccup and the rest of the party go along with it, mainly because there’s something deeply hilarious about a regular human bard being adopted and raised by a family of high-powered elf ice mages.

Astrid is absolutely the sort of player who tends to get bored and restless outside of fights, and tends to fidget and twiddle her thumbs waiting for the next combat session. Jack picks up on this, and purposely does more roleplay for longer just to piss her off. He’s also just a very dramatic fucker and highkey loves roleplay.

When she’s not causing mayhem around the town or sleeping with hot women, Merida tries to entertain Astrid between combat sessions by offering to spar with her. Unfortunately, this does not usually end well for poor Merida, as even the most hardcore and badass of tieflings is prone to getting dumpstered by an 8-foot-tall barbarian orc with an axe. Astrid is, nonetheless, grateful to have someone to fight.

Rapunzel, Elsa, and Moana will humor Hiccup and attempt to actually play the main plot. Meanwhile, Jack, Merida, and Eugene are a DM’s worst nightmare. They constantly derail the damn campaign to fuck around, cause mayhem, and do inane shenanigans in every. Damn. Town. They go to. Anna is kind of a wildcard–she’ll typically go with whatever group looks like they’re going to be doing something more interesting. Astrid will go along with whichever group is more likely to get into a fight–which, often as not, is Jack and his posse of terrible Chaotic Neutrals (who have definitely pissed off a number of NPCs into attacking them).

As the campaign goes on, Elsa and Eugene become the beleaguered Party Mom and Dad. Both are quite aggravated by this–especially poor Eugene, who just wanted to play a morally-gray charming rogue who stole everything and got away with it and then accidentally ended up caring about these idiots he got stuck with.

Anna initially joins the campaign because she has a planet-size crush on Hiccup, and inevitably is the one who dragged Elsa into it too. Being the hopeless romantic that she is, Anna writes a love interest into her backstory. Hiccup eventually has the party run into said love interest, and Anna is overjoyed. He starts flirting with her as the love interest, and it’s easily the best 30 minutes of Anna’s life.

Moana and Elsa also give Hiccup pretty detailed backstories, and he works in little subplots for them. Moana gets to bring water back to a dying part of the jungle in the middle of a draught, while Elsa gets to go on a whole sidequest to explore her family history and how they came to be sorcerers.

Jack, Merida, and Eugene also give Hiccup fairly elaborate backstories, but Jack’s and Merida’s are like 99% memes and Dumb Shit. Hiccup tries to give all of them backstory-related plot hooks, but inevitably any hooks he provides are either stabbed, robbed, or frozen. Honestly any plot hook offered to these 3 will be all but spat in the face of and tossed off a cliff.

The one relevant part of Eugene’s backstory is that he and Rapunzel decide they used to be partners in crime before the campaign started. Rapunzel would infiltrate and scout out places he wanted to rob as small, unobtrusive animals (her preferred Wild Shape is a chameleon) and later distract the guards as a bunny or kitten while he went in and took every gold coin in sight. In return, Flynn Rider would bribe builders to not develop into Sunlily’s forest. Rapunzel and Eugene partly came up with this For Funsies, but also it was Rapunzel’s sneaky way of tricking Eugene into having prior connections in the party so he’d be less likely to betray them. It works pretty well–although the entire party is protective of Cinnamon Roll Sunlily, Flynn is certainly especially protective of her.

Astrid does the absolute bare minimum as far as backstories go. She is literally just here to smash stuff, slice people, and beat some fuckers up.

Rapunzel has a backstory, but she’s typically so invested in the main plot and the other party members that Hiccup rarely needs to bring it in to keep her engaged. She’s highkey the party emotional rock, and probably the only one keeping them all together.

On that note, Rapunzel’s character is the ONLY one who can get Jack’s character to take the plot even REMOTELY seriously. Like he’ll be dicking around in the nearest tavern challenging the nearest orc to a drinking game, and Rapunzel will come in and ask him to help them on a Main Plot Quest. And he’ll be like “come onnnnn I’m having funnn” and she’ll be like “Jack pleeeeeease?” and you just. Can’t resist Sunlily’s puppy dog eyes. At all. Also, whenever Sunlily is genuinely threatened, any silliness immediately goes out the window and Jack Frost is OUT FOR BLOOD.

For better or for worse, Rapunzel is not immune to being looped into Jack’s shenanigans. Occasionally if either Merida or Eugene have a particularly hare-brained scheme she’ll go along with it, but by and large Jack is the most successful in convincing her to temporarily abandon the plot and cause mild mischief with him. They once wasted half a session creating an elaborate “ice theme park” for some squirrels in the forest.

Hiccup tries to get Merida to play the main plot by eventually having there be no more sexy female NPCs to seduce in the towns they go to. Unfortunately, this backfires–Merida just hooks up with Moana’s character instead. When asked to roll for how good the lay is, Merida gets a nat 20–and thus her character and Moana’s character end up hooking up regularly throughout the rest of the campaign.

Hiccup introduces a few Wise Old Mentor-type NPCs to guide the party throughout the campaign. While Rapunzel, Elsa, Moana, and Anna actually try to listen to them and take their advice, Merida, Jack, and Eugene absolutely refuse to take them seriously and mercilessly play pranks on them.

At one point, Hiccup gives the party the option to attempt to tame a group of wild dragons and use them as mounts. They all have to make animal handling checks. Anna, Rapunzel, Elsa, and Moana pass. The rest of the party fails, with Jack and Eugene crit-failing. Hilarity ensues.

Hiccup ends up bringing back Anna’s backstory love interest as an NPC regular. Anna thinks he’s just being a good friend and a good DM and trying to incorporate her backstory as much as he can, but really, he just wants an excuse to regularly flirt with her. He hardly has the balls to out-of-game.

Merida comes out as gay toward the end of the campaign. Everyone in the group is extremely supportive, of course, but everyone is also like “Merida…with the amount of barmaids you’ve banged…and the amount of times you and Moana’s character hooked up…this isn’t exactly surprising.”

Hiccup actually finds a way to use Jack and Elsa’s same-concept-opposite-execution characters to the plot’s advantage. He decides one of the main villains will have a prophecy saying he’ll be taken down by a powerful ice mage. The party manages to fool this guy into thinking this ice mage is Jack, and sends Jack to fight him. As soon as the villain sees Jack, he’s like “WHAT??? THIS clown???” (word has absolutely spread throughout the land of Jack not using his ice powers for anything besides mildly annoying trolling). Naturally, the bad guy lets his guard down after thinking he’s going to fight this literal joke, and then Elsa crashes in from the side and absolutely dumpsters him.

Jack tries to defeat the final boss by just annoying him so much that he leaves. Unfortunately, he just annoys him so much that he attacks Rapunzel’s character. Jack’s just like “oh HELL no” and attacks with absolutely nothing held back. Turns out he’s pretty terrifying when he’s not using his magic for Dumb Antics.

During the final boss of the campaign, the Big Bad tries to one-shot Moana’s character, and Merida’s character super theatrically jumps in front of her to take the blow instead. Rapunzel just barely manages to heal Merida’s character, but it’s a really close call. During all this, Merida is like “ah shit...maybe I’m NOT just in this to get fantasy-laid.” After the fight’s over, her and Moana’s characters have a big dramatic love confession and share a Big Damn Kiss in front of everyone. It’s pretty epic.

After the final session of the campaign, Merida drags Moana outside Jack’s apartment and sputters and trips over her words for a solid minute before she finally gets out that through all this nonsense...well...maybe it’s not just in the game that she thinks Moana is hot. Moana just gets this HUGE grin on her face and says “c’mere, Leeroy Jenkins” and just pulls Merida in and kisses her. Cue the rest of the party barging in on them. Merida and Moana freeze, and there’s a moment of terrified silence...and then the entire party starts cheering them on like “took you long enough!”

The entire rest of the party could detect the sexual tension. Literally all of them.

But Eugene is like “HA, THIS MEANS IF WE DO A SEQUEL CAMPAIGN I’M WINNING THAT BET! BECAUSE YOU’RE GONNA BE DATING MO’S CHAR AND THUS NOT ABLE TO SLEEP WITH ANY MORE BARMAIDS!”

By the epilogue session, Jack and Rapunzel are dating. Merida and Moana are also dating. Hiccup and Anna STILL haven’t figured out why they’re so prone to spending half the session flirting when Anna’s love interest shows up, and Hiccup STILL hasn’t figured out why he likes to have Anna’s love interest show up so often. Bless their souls. Maybe they’ll figure it out next campaign...?

Damn I actually really like this...maybe if people like it I’ll do some incorrect quotes or a drabble or something??? Or maybe some HCs from next campaign???

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fitinseconds · 2 years ago

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The 3 Reasons Why You're Not Losing Weight

You don't have to be motivated or forced to lose weight.

But the surprising thing is that 80% of people trying to lose weight are ending up not losing any.

We performed a survey on people and we now have over 10 reasons why people don't lose weight but will be sharing 3 today.

Let's walk through the simple 3 Reasons and how to get them solved.

Current levels of overweight and obesity, together with weight-related disease, have made weight control a major health priority throughout the world.

Yet statistics indicate that average weight reduction on conventional diets adds up to a mere 5-8 pounds per year.

So why do we find dieting so difficult? According to a new survey, the answer seems to be: because we make 3 crucial mistakes.

We don't have a good enough incentive; we allow ourselves to go hungry, and we can't cope with "bad days".

The weight loss survey conducted, asked dieters to select the three biggest problems they faced when dieting.

The most common problems reported were: "Inadequate incentive to lose weight" (76%); "Hunger" (72%); and "Bad days" (70%).

Although these results will come as no surprise to most dieters, they highlight the importance of motivation in the dieting process. We examine how these problems occur, and what steps can be taken to overcome them.

INADEQUATE INCENTIVE TO LOSE WEIGHT

Why Do We Need an Incentive? We gain weight because we take in more energy than we use. Either because we eat too many calories, burn few, or both.

So if we want to reduce weight, we need to improve our eating and exercise habits. And this is not easy, because let's face it - old habits are not easily discarded, especially if they involve cutting out our favorite treats.

We need a powerful incentive to help us change. Specifically, we need an answer to the question: "How exactly will I benefit from losing weight?"When faced with this question, many dieters have no answer.

Those who do, typically reply: "I'll feel better" or "my health will improve". Others explain they are trying to lose weight to please their doctor or their partner, or simply because they are "overweight". Unfortunately, none of these reasons are strong enough to help us succeed.

So when temptation strikes, we are unable to resist.What Type of Incentive is Best? Our motivation to lose weight must be based on a selfish, specific benefit.

A good example might be an upcoming beach holiday, a family occasion, or the achievement of a specific mobility or fitness goal.

It must be as specific as possible (general benefits are useless) and ideally related to a fixed date. In addition, it must be selfish.

Losing weight to please others rarely works. The advice I give to my clients is very simple. Do not bother dieting unless you have a good incentive.Because no matter how good the diet, no matter how valuable the exercise plan, unless you have a powerful reason to change your habits you won't succeed.

HUNGER KILLS DIETS

Most dieters are still convinced that calories are their enemy. So the less they eat, the faster they are likely to lose weight. This is not true. In reality, the less we eat, the more hungry we get and the easier it is to fall into temptation.

The human body is trained to eat when hungry and no amount of willpower will neutralize this basic urge. This is why binge eating is such a common response to low-calorie diets.

How to Avoid HungerNo rocket science here. Avoiding hunger simply means eating regularly throughout the day, and keeping your calorie intake above 1000-1200 per day.

This prevents hunger, thus reducing the urge to overeat, and in addition, helps to maintain a regularly high level of calorie burning.Eat Too Much Rather Than Too LittleWe all have days when we feel extra hungry, even when we are dieting.

This is no problem - simply eat more! It is always better to eat a little too much than not enough. Might this delay your weight loss? Yes. But so what? Taking a few extra days to achieve your goal is not a problem.

The real danger is not eating enough and ending up hungry and depressed. This is a recipe for a binge.

BAD DAYS AND THE PROBLEM OF PERFECTION

No dieter is perfect. The truth is, all dieters experience "bad days" or fall into occasional temptation. Sadly, most dieters insist on "being perfect".

They cannot tolerate these lapses. So if (say) they visit a friend and end up eating 2 containers of ice cream and a box of cookies, they go to pieces. "I'm useless!" they cry. "I'm a failure!" Overwhelmed by guilt at not being perfect, they then quit their diet in disgust.

It's the Guilt That Does the DamageIn this situation, the actual binge is typically fairly harmless. I mean, we need to eat a huge quantity of food (3500+ calories) to gain even one pound of weight.

The real damage is caused by the ensuing guilt. And this is what we need to address. Guilt Comes From Trying to Be Perfect. All dieters make mistakes and this is perfectly normal.

Having an occasional binge is no cause for alarm, far less guilt. Even the most successful dieters, those who have lost 100+ pounds - had regular lapses.

The difference is, they didn't see themselves as "perfect" individuals. So they felt "entitled" to make occasional mistakes, and so should you.

Once you accept this, you will find dieting a whole lot easier.We Need Support to Make These ChangesTo overcome the 3 problems described above, an essential first step is to find proper support.

This is just as important as choosing the right diet plan, because no matter how good the diet, it can't motivate you to stay on track - only people can do this. Diet is ten times easier when you receive encouragement from others.

So when choosing an online weight loss program, choose one with an active forum. Because at the end of the day, it's all about people. When we are alone and isolated, the smallest obstacle can seem like a mountain. But when we have people behind us, anything is possible.

To get a CLINICAL PROVEN appetite suppressant that controls hunger and cravings, proven to help you lose weight and out performs prescription drugs trial CLICK HERE.

But if you wish or need help with the right challenge to your self harder and reach your ultimate fitness goals. Check out this all in one weight loss, body builder, pre workouts and general health.

#health & fitness #writers #food #student #weight loss

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mxvladdy · 3 years ago

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Flutter

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Contains: pregnancy talk (kinda), angst, and drama

Pairing: Dante x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and a brief mention of terminating (like a sentence but still)

Back on my bullshit with the baby fics lol. I love the trope idk why.

Thump thump thump-thump thump thump

Dante stirs with a huff of annoyance, his ears twitch focusing on the insufferable rhythm that was stopping him from resting. It started a few hours ago. Nothing major, something he could definitely doze through. The slow irregular was almost calming, until it got louder. At first he had chalked it up to one of the many freaky experimental weapons dangling in Nico’s tiny workspace at the back of the crowded van. They tended to pop and hiss if some raw materials got too close. But it had picked up in the past hour, growing consistent and strong, really strong. Strong enough to make it hard to ignore. Dante cracks open a bloodshot eye looking around at the van’s occupants to find the culprit.

Nero sat oblivious to the world on the floor across from him leaning on the side of the van’s tire well. His eyes are shut, and his face relaxes as the adrenaline of the day finally starts to seep out of his system. He nods his head along to the tunes blasting out of the jukebox in the corner. He was oblivious to the accusatory glare of his uncle. Dante crosses the kid off as the likely suspect of his annoyance. Nero looked about ready to pass out, each bobble of his head becoming more erratic and jerky as sleep started to take over. He clearly wasn’t hearing this.

So, he turns to the front of the van to check on the others. The ladies were chatting idly in the front. Nothing super exciting gossip wise. The three of them were tossing little jabs at each other. Well, Lady and Trish were, Nico was hiding a smirk behind a freshly lit cigarette as the two grew heated. The three of them called it “friendly bitching” but he still wasn’t all that sure. Whenever Lady or Trish used that tone with him he was about to either get robbed eight ways to Sunday by one of them or his ass kicked. The two human women seemed oblivious to the noise...perhaps Trish heard it? Hmmm-nah. Trish didn’t seem to notice the steady thumping that had now become a hyper fixation to him.

Huffing the hunter settles back down in the couch cushions of the couch to look out the window at the blur of the scenery passing by. The hum of the van’s engine and the low roar of the A/C were almost enough to drown out the noise filling his skull. He pops a finger in his ear digging out some wax. Did that smack across the head early knock something? Did a gun go off too close? Wait... shouldn’t he hear ringing if that was the case? Ye, the more he focused on it, it wasn’t inside his head. He checks out the window, his hand itching for a gun. Was a demon really that dumb to follow a van filled with demon hunters? He snorts at his question. Of course, they were. He was pretty sure they had finished the contract with a 100% kill count. Still, he checks out the window, just in case.

“I’m guessing you hear it too?” Vergil stirs from his meditative stupor, popping his neck with a satisfying grunt before turning his gaze to Dante. All of his younger brother’s squirming finally got too much for him to ignore. Vergil focused on his sibling, arms crossed over his freshly bandaged chest. “Really?” He looks down to his lap in disgust. Dante smirks, wiggling his muddy boots where they rested crossed on his thighs.

“What can I say? You’re ridiculously comfy.” Dante smirks. He knew his dick of a brother would threaten to stab him for dirtying his clothes, but he had a trump card, and he was going to use it. They both look down at your sleeping form sprawled on Dante’s chest and a part of Vergil's legs. You lay on him, curled up in a neat little ball on his chest. A dark spot grew beneath where your cheek was squished on his cotton shirt. Dante can’t help the smile that creeps across his face. He pulls his signature coat tighter around you and strokes your face with a only slightly grimy finger. Vergil sighs, settling back down, careful not to wake you either. He had a big ol’ sweet spot for you, and damn Dante couldn’t blame him.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump

Dante hisses, pulling away from your peaceful expression, jealous for a brief moment that your weak human hearing couldn’t pick up on the invasive noise. “You sense where it’s coming from?” He rumbles low in his chest, careful not to disturb you. His brother sits silently for a moment wiping at his drowsy eyes. Dante watches his ear twitch minutely picking up on every sound in the immediate vicinity.

“No, I-” His head snaps back to Dante so fast he was surprised Vergil didn’t give himself whiplash. His silver eyes are wide with shock for a moment before softening to an expression Dante only saw when he would talk with Kyrie over dinner. It was warm, protective, and far too gentle a face for him to be pulled out for him. Dante looks back over his shoulder on instinct before it hits him, hard. Vergil wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at you. Oh shit, oh shit.

Dante focuses his senses on you before he had been merely using his broad range listening figuring it was an outside threat. He smells you first, your natural scent was a soft and sweet thing, like moss by a river bed, or freshly turned soil. It only got earthier after a day of hard work. The faint scent of gunpowder lingered on you too, and something else, something more hormonal and almost floral. Beneath your changing scent, he hears your heart thumping steadily in your chest. That was always a comforting sound to him, an anchor whenever he worried for your safety. But underneath it, he heard it. It was a rapid rhythm over yours, in you.

Dante jerks up, tumbling to the floor and cracking his head hard on the metal guards of the stairs. You would have toppled with him if Vergil hadn’t lunged to grab you. “What?” You look around confused but alert. The van is silent in the aftermath of the sudden burst of energy, all faces now turned to the three of you. Vergil holding you close to his chest while you focus on Dante. “You ok?” You look him over, noticing how pale he suddenly was as he looked at you. He was breathing heavily and panicked. His silver-grey eyes flitting between yours and up to Vergil’s.

“Ye,” He croaks, running a hand through his dirty hair not moving from his spot on the dirty floor. “Ye-shit, sorry just slipped in my sleep.”

“Quite a ‘slip’.” You wiggle out of Vergil’s hold and come to bend over Dante. You put the back of your hand to his forehead. You had all gotten pretty banged up this mission, and as usual, Dante had taken the brunt of it. He laughs a little too forcefully to be considered natural and pushes your hand away to get up.

“You know me. I’m full of surprises.” He flops back onto the couch looking at you oddly before opening his arms up to you. He fights against the tremble he feels spreading across his whole body.

You catch the sour look growing on Vergil’s face, it was boiling over to murderous. He shakes his head before sitting back in his spot and reaching for a magazine.

“Everything alright back there?” Nico shouts looking up into the rearview mirror.

“Yeh-yeh.” Dante waves not taking his eyes off you. “Just my old man senses getting to me.” The van collectively snorts at that, all turning back to what they were originally doing. Picking up his discarded coat you climb back into the cradle of your boyfriend's arms.

Boyfriend. You smile into his sweaty neck. It was a new term for both of you and your relationship. You two have been skirting around the idea of a committed relationship for months now. You’ve been with the gang for years now, flitting in and out of each other's life mission after mission as a freelance mercenary. Dante welcomed you into the fold of his merry band of misfits well enough, but you could see the line in the sand he drew pretty easily.

You respected it. Life in this business was hard and sometimes very short. He was slow to open up and trust, not with just you, but anyone. You got it, you understand his hesitation. Once you both established that the feelings you felt for each other went beyond good friends the lines and walls he built began to fade. The few months of you two trying out the word have been going well. Or, at least you thought so. Dante seemed pleased enough too. The few dates you two were able to scrap your collective pennies together for were a blast. Spontaneous coffee dates, walks down none demon-infested streets and parks. Once he even took a weekend off to go cross country with you. That weekend had been the most relaxed you had ever seen him, and as a bonus, the sex had been phenomenal too.

“You ok?” You kiss the stubble on his strong jaw, taking in the hard look in his eyes. His arms were rigid around you, protective yet also isolating. He looked shut-off, lost deep in his mind back in that place you knew he went whenever something was deeply troubling him. Dante said nothing for a moment, his large palm rubbing your lower back in stiff robotic movements. “Dante?”

He snaps out of it with a jerk. “Ye babe- just tired.” He kisses the worry from your brow and slips back into your original position, arms locking securely over your middle. He listens to your breathing and heart slow as you drift off, the little thumping underneath beating on.

From the moment Dante stepped out of the van he shut down. Not just from you, but everyone. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional or just instinct after years of protecting himself. He noticed it happening from afar like he was on the sidelines and completely unable to control what he was doing. He took job after job that Morrison threw at him, not waiting for backup or help. He began staying in his room, slinking upstairs instead of his usual hang out spot down in his office to be social. He just leaves everyone behind. He knows Lady and Trish will blow it off, they were used to the odd mood swing by now, chalking it up to mission fatigue. You knew better though, and he loved you for it. Even if it irritated him right now.

The first few days after that mission Dante saw you trying to pretend like you didn’t notice the walls he was rebuilding around himself. He wanted to believe that you couldn’t see how he turned up the jukebox every time you stepped into Devil May Cry, or that you pretend not to notice how his eyes would drift to look at anything but you when you stood in front of him. It hurt, it hurt to do this, but he couldn’t stop this self sabotage he was inflicting on himself and the stress he was pushing onto you. He just couldn’t take it.

He saw his mother every time he looked at you, could smell the ash and sulfur, could remember how his young lungs filled with smoke as he cried for something he could never get back while his childhood burned around him. He couldn’t do it, so he stopped seeing you. Not that it helped much. He heard the beating every time you came near trying to talk to him, so he stopped listening too. He didn’t know what else to do.

“If you put your hair back I swear I wouldn’t be able to tell you apart from your brother anymore, especially with that new attitude you're sporting.” Dante hears the slight edge in your voice. You sat in your now usual spot on the edge of his desk, before that day his lap would have been filled with your warm sweet body. You didn’t look happy in the least bit. You looked exhausted. He doesn’t look up from his magazine, a slow buzz of panic begins to fill his ears. Were you sick? Did you know?

He puts up another wall. “Doubt it,” He flips a page of his magazine reaching blindly for his beer. “I’m still the better looking one.” More silence. Dante feels your hard stare from where you sat.

“Need something?”

Your shoulders slump. “No-it’s nothing Dante.” He feels himself break just a little at the moisture threatening to spill from your lashes before they are blinked away. You leave without saying goodbye. He doesn’t see you again after that, your spot is soon replaced with piles of empty bottles.

“I expected better from you.”

Dante chokes on his beer, the foam shooting up into his nose and bringing tears to his eyes as it burns its way back to his throat. “Damn it, Vergil! Knock sometime?” His brother says nothing storming over to his desk and kicking a chair out to sit next to him. The look on his face was venomous. “Don’t give me that look.” Dante sighs, popping the cap off of another beer bottle.

“What look?”

Dante waves the butt of his bottle at him. “That! That look. It’s the one you always give me right before you stab me.”

Vergil chuckles humourlessly. “I just might if you continue to ignore your growing issue.” He pushes leaning into Dante’s space.

Dante bristles feeling like a trapped dog. “They should find out on their own-”

“Brother-”

Dante cuts him off with a swipe of his hand, amber liquid sloshing over his desk and lap. He feels his control slipping. The heat of his devil form simmering just below the surface. “I don’t want to talk about this.” I don’t want to acknowledge this.

“It’s been weeks.” Vergil presses on lean in close to his twin. “Will there ever be a right time?”

Dante bares his fangs in warning. His fingers itching to curl up and punch his brother. “That is rich coming from you. Remind me again, how many times have you tried to kill your son?” He meant for it to hurt, to let that barb sink in deep and fester. Vergil doesn’t even react, his gaze still cool and steady.

“I regret it-in parts. But I am not doing this for you.” Dante frowns. He had figured that. When Vergil arrived with Dante all those months ago torn up and bloodied from quite literally crawling out of Hell the welcome he got from the crew had been...lukewarm to put it mildly. They weren’t openly hostile, but it got pretty close sometimes. Only you and Nero had been pleasant to his brother right off the bat. The others came around eventually, but Vergil had taken a real shine to you. You were inquisitive and hungry to prove yourself, but smart enough to know when to back down. It’s what drew him to you, so it would make sense Vergil liked it too. “I cannot change my past actions, nor would I,” Dante scoffs. “But you have been given yet another opportunity that I envy.” He looks over his shoulder to the empty office. He couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t still envy his younger brother and his successes. To be free-to have had a life, dare he say to act almost human? Dante had always been the friendlier and kinder of the two, even as kids. He was sociable and street smart. Most importantly, people trusted him.

Then he found you, a most extraordinary mate. Vergil knew Dante would never admit it vocally but he shows his love with how he acts around you. Dante was always brash and foolhardy but he was milder with you. Whenever you were in the room his sole focus was always on you. His eyes, his body, every part of his being just seemed to gravitate to you. Whenever you paced, pissed from a recent job he would follow in his chair rolling left and right to keep his body in line with you. Even on the field, he stayed close, a towering figure of red and flames. To have him cast you out like this... Vergil shakes his head. “Why are you stalling?” He asks.

“They should find out on their own,” Dante repeats himself.

“And what if they decide not to tell you? What if they decide not to go through with it? You are limiting their time frame, Dante. You are putting them both in danger.” Vergil’s words strike deep. If he can’t get his brother to see reason now, then he will have to intervene. If Dante never forgave him for this transgression, then so be it.

The roar of primal rage was the only warning Vergil got before he was airborne. His back colliding hard against the old oak bookshelves across the room, Dante’s splintered desk pinning him for a moment before he is being dragged up the shelves by his neck. Empty bottles and old tomes clatter to the floor. He matches his brother’s energy shifting in a blaze of blue fury until he faces his red counterpart. “You lash out, why? Because you know I’m right?” He hisses around bared razor sharp fangs. “Do you hope they will leave you?” Something passes through Dante’s scleraless eyes. “It won’t be like before, brother.”

The whine Dante emits sounds like a wounded animal. It was high and reedy, it was filled with turmoil. Vergil couldn’t stop the sharp bark of laughter that fell from his lips. Unbelievable. “Dante.” Vergil grabs one of the claws locked around his throat. “For all your foolish and idiotic behavior you have built yourself a family. Do you honestly think any of them would let something happen? Do you think I would let something happen?” The fist around his neck loosens and drops.

“I want them to live a normal life.” Dante steps away, his voice uncertain. “Look at us- at Nero and Kyrie. Being what we are, we have royally screwed them over.” He stares down at his rough armored hands. His elytra pulses red veins with demonic energy. “And a damn kid? Nero got by alright, but narrowly. Do I look like someone that can handle this?”

“No.” Vergil can’t lie, it would only hurt you in the end. “Not at first. While I have no right to talk about being a father, I know you can do it far better than I.” He smiles to himself. “‘sides, at least your better half has a head on their shoulders.”

“Gee, thanks.” Dante grunts retreating to where his desk used to be. He breathed deeply and shifted back to his human form. Damn it, he had just paid off the repairs from the last time he wrecked the place. Bending over to pick up his magazine, the two were interrupted by his door bursting open. Nero and Lady bursting through bickering heatedly at each other before they notice the mess.

“Did we interrupt something?” Nero steps open the splinters of Dante’s old desk taking in his half triggered father.

“No.” The brothers say in unison.

“Good-” Lady pushes forwards, tossing a missive to Dante. He catches it with deft fingers and rips it open. “Normally I would have taken this on myself with the kid-since you’ve been sulking.” She shoots him a scathing look. “But we need all boots on the ground. Trish and your flickering flame are already there, but this portal just isn’t budging.”

“What!” Vergil snaps. Dante stares blankly at the letter, a high pitch whining growing in his ears. It was getting hard to breathe. “You left them there? They are vulnerable.” The blue devil grabs the letter from his brother looking at the address briefly before grabbing Yamato before rushing for the door.

Nero shouts after his father in confusion, his outburst uncharacteristic for him. “The hell was that about?” Nero watches the skies as the blue figure disappears. “They are perfectly capable of handling themselves…”

“Get in the van. I’ll see you there.” Dante grits out, crumbling the paper up and tossing it aside. He flys out moments later, guns and swords are forgotten. Anything that touches you would be getting ripped to shreds with his bare hands. He travels in a blur of panic fighting the sense of guilt threatening to overcome him. How could he be so stupid? Just because you weren’t at the office didn’t mean that you weren’t still taking jobs. He always worried when you went out solo- or without him, but he was confident in your abilities. A few scrapes and bruises weren’t anything to stress over. It wasn’t something to stress about before. You were still on the field and it was his damn fault.

The sound of gunfire and the roars of dying demons draws him in. Dante’s sharp eyes find you immediately. You were holding your own. You back in a corner but your guns were hot, dropping demon after demon with near flawless aim. Instinctively his demon side rumbles in pride before he squashes the feeling. Now wasn’t the time. Vergil beat him there by minutes but was already covered in gore as he assists you from above, slicing through the almost endless wave of beasts. Dante lands near you grabbing a Fury in midjump throwing it away to splatter against a building yards away. “About time you showed up!” Trish shouted from her perch lightning crackling around her. He ignores her, instead he launches himself at the gaping maw of the portal. He fights with reckless abandon, each wound and injury fueling his fire. One more hit on him just meant one less directed at you.

The fighting didn’t last long after Nero and Lady arrived adding enough fire support that he was able to destroy the portal and clean up the remaining hellspawn. The moment it was Dante was on you. “The hell were you thinking!” He rounds on you his massive body crowding your space.

You hold your ground staring up at him. “Hey, so glad to finally hear from you.” You crane your neck up to meet his glowing eyes. “I love it when my boyfriend finally remembers I exist.”

“You could have gotten hurt!” He glosses over your snark and checks you out. You were fine, good.

You back away from him throwing your hands up in confusion. “Yes? That’s kind of par for the course isn’t it?” You were baffled by his behavior. Weeks. Weeks! Weeks of ignoring your calls, and a conveniently empty office every time you tried to drop by, and now that you have his attention the first thing he does is yell at you? Where did he get off? In fact, his shit attitude only angered you more. “Ya know what? I don’t want to hear it.” You turn your head to where Nico sat leaning out of her driver-side window. She waves at you. “Can you give me a lift back to my place? I got to grab some fresh clips before heading back out.”

A red hand blocks your exit. “No-” Dante grabs your forearm gently tugging you to look at him. His natural heat was a comfort you didn’t realize you missed so much. “Babe-let me handle it.”

“Dante,” You try to pull away. “It’s my job. What has gotten into you?”

He looks over to his brother, the conflict he had been trying to avoid closing in too fast for him.

Vergil holds his stare and shrugs. “Come-the two need to talk, let’s head back for now.” Asshole. The rest of the group follows his eldest brother casting curious glances over their shoulders as they pile into the van. He really wasn’t ready for this.

The two of you watch them go in silence. “Let me take you back? Please?” Dante let’s go of your arm. You nod, it’s not like you have any choice now. Well, you could walk, your body screams at the thought of moving any more than necessary. You’ve been getting exhausted faster and faster these days. Perhaps the stress of the job was getting to you. He scoops you up in his giant arms stretching his wings out to their full and impressive length before taking to the sky. He glides through the city taking extra care to make it as smooth as possible for you. His landing was as silent on the empty streets surrounding your apartment building.

The mid-afternoon sun was high overhead, the perpetual fog of the city finally breaking enough to let in the heat of the day. You slide from his arms and lead him up the steps to your door. Swinging the door wide you look up at him. “Do you mind?”

“What?”

You point to his devil form. “Shrinking? I don’t think you can fit.”

Oh right. He chuckles nervously. “Ain’t nothing a bit of lube and patience can’t fix right?” You don’t laugh, your lips pull taught. He coughs shifting in a flash of heat. Once he’s human he squeezes through the narrow door frame and just stares at you. Dante shuffles from side to side. Great. Now what?

You rub at your neck weary you could feel another knot growing. Weeks ago you had a whole speech laid out for when you got him through your door. You wanted to chew him out, to yell at him for cutting you out so unceremoniously. Shout that if he was going to break up with you at least do it cleanly, not this emotional roller coaster. A sense of anger fills you. Damn it, was this really it? It wasn’t like this was the first time a partner has done this. You just had hoped that Dante would be different. He had always been so dependable. “Just make it quick, Dante.” You didn’t have the steam for this right now. You felt nauseous and a pulsing head coming on. Ugh, and you still have that job waiting for you.

Dante’s silver brows scrunch up. “Make what quick?”

You wave at the distance between the two of you. “This. This breakup. Do it fast so it’ll give me the adrenaline to get through my next job so I can pass out tonight and get some sleep.”

Any other day Dante’s look of sheer shock would have been hilarious- today just wasn’t one of those days. “You think? Heh-shit yes, I can see why...” He rakes a hand through his disheveled hair. “It’s not like that, I- I was running from my problems again.”

Your hackles raise in anger. “I’m a problem now?”

“What! No, that’s not what I’m trying to say.” He points to himself. “I’m the problem. I ruin everything I touch!” His hurt cuts through your aggression.

“Dante-” You have had this discussion before. “You know I don’t think that.”

“You should.” He cuts you off, his expression imploring. “I messed up-I messed up big time with you. I should have said something the moment I knew but I just locked up and ran, like always.”

Knew? Knew what? “Dante, I don’t understand.”

“I-you...how are you feeling of late? I don’t know anything about this stuff, different?” His eyes swipe over your dusty battle garb. You feel his eyes stop at your navel holding there too long to be considered a coincidence before dropping to your feet.

“I’m sorry.” His breath hitches, getting dangerously close to a feeling he had been bottling up for too long. You are quiet, doing the math in your head. He hears your heartbeat pick up, your breathing becoming fast and shallow.

“Get out.”

His heart sinks. What did he expect? Closing the distance between you he reaches for you, his hand hovering by your face waiting to see if you will let him touch you. You don’t move, don’t even look up at him when his hands cup your face. So he moves crouching down to get a look at you. Your gaze is blank but resolute.

“I’m sorry.” He tries again. You ignore him far too engrossed in your revelation. Idly you trace a palm down to your stomach before flinching away is burned. “I’ll-I’ll be around…” He trails off all steam lost. At a loss he does the only thing he can think to do and flees, disappearing back into the streets outside your home like the coward he was.

#devil may cry #dante x reader

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ibijau · 3 years ago

Text

Counterfeit AU pt6 / On AO3

Meng Yao makes himself useful after losing his job, and discovers something unexpected

Names are funny things, Meng Yao thinks as he stares at the sheet of paper in his hand.

Funny things indeed.

After everything that went down in the Hanshi, it's Beastie that saves Meng Yao from himself.

Left to his own devices, he would have either wallowed in misery, or waste time proving to himself that everything that happened wasn't his fault, the way he knows he's done in other lives. But when he comes home after having his past lives thrown into his face and losing a job he loves, Beastie’s mother corners him just as he puts his key into his lock. Her daughter is on school holiday, she explains, and was supposed to be looked after by a friend with children of a similar age. But one of the children came down with something contagious, so the whole plan fell through, and the poor woman now desperately needs help finding someone to look after her daughter.

She’s not asking for Meng Yao to play the babysitter, but he knows so many people, he has so many connections, maybe he could pull a favour somewhere, help her out again.

“I can take care of her for a few days,” Meng Yao offers without thinking. “I’m jobless as of today.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! What happened?”

“My employer died,” Meng Yao replies, which is close enough to the truth. He doesn’t think Nie Huaisang will continue using his Shanzi alias after this, and they’ll never meet again. He might as well be dead. “I don’t plan on looking for a new job right away, so I can babysit for a while, it’s no big deal.”

She tries to insist that he doesn’t need to be doing that, but quickly agrees after some reassurance that Meng Yao doesn’t mind. She looks so relieved she could cry as she says she’ll drop Beastie in the morning. Meng Yao smiles, certain that his mother would be proud of him for doing what’s right.

Having Beastie around is definitely the best choice he could have made. She’s a good kid, but she’s also high energy and needs to be entertained, which means he doesn’t get to think too much about how much he misses Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen.

They watch movies together, as they’ve always done when he picked her up after school. They go for walks to a nearby park, and once to a museum to look at old armours and swords. He buys Beastie a fake sword, though they agree to keep it at his place, since her mother already despairs that she so strongly favours boy’s toys. In fact, Meng Yao ends up just spoiling that little girl, the way he would have loved someone to do for him when he was her age. He even has Nie Huaisang’s console repaired so she can play on it, instead of selling it as he’d intended.

The video games are a big hit with her. She’s particularly in love with the same game Nie Huaisang spent too many hours on, that weird little terraforming thing which Meng Yao can’t see the appeal of. He liked that it made Nie Huaisang happy. He likes that it also makes Beastie happy, and that she’s very careful not to ruin the work previously put into it, focused instead on maintaining it and planting flowers

“It looks like home,” she explains when Meng Yao asks about that, and lifts the console for him to see.

It doesn’t look like a homely place, he thinks, and more like a military fortress right out of a wuxia drama. But Meng Yao doesn’t get to make that remark, because his phone vibrates, demanding his attention. Beastie, sitting crossed legs on some cushion on the floor, goes back to watering virtual flowers, while Meng Yao checks some news from his bank account. A lump sum has been sent to him, a good deal more than his usual salary, coming from an account registered under a name he doesn’t recognise.

It has been a week since he was fired.

Nie Huaisang kept his promise.

It really is over.

Not that Meng Yao really doubted it. Nie Huaisang has many faults but indecision has never been one, though he’s always been good at pretending otherwise. Once his choice is made he toys with expectations but rarely ever changes his mind.

Rarely, of course, isn’t never. Meng Yao, foolishly, hoped to be one of those few exceptions.

Those new zeroes on his bank account feel like a divorce, and he never even got a honeymoon.

That night, Meng Yao allows himself a few hours to wallow in misery, after Beastie went back to her mother. He is only human, and it does feel good to eat take-away in front of a cheesy romance. The film's hero doesn't get the girl, who was dead all along. Meng Yao cries, even though he's seen that movie before.

By morning, he's in control again, and takes Beastie to the park so she can run around in the sun, and scare pigeons with her sword.

Those holidays are all great fun, until Beastie’s mother reminds them that she has homework to do.

Beastie is a clever kid, there’s no doubt about it, but she doesn’t much like doing her homework, least of all when she feels she could be playing. It takes all of Meng Yao’s negotiation skills to get her to even look at her school books, and he almost resorts to bribery to make her pick up a pencil. But she works hard once she starts, and Meng Yao, wanting to encourage her, sits with her at the kitchen table to update his resume. Beastie will go back to class soon, and inactivity just isn’t in his temper.

When Beastie is done with her work, she gets permission to put on whatever movie she likes while Meng Yao checks what she’s done in case it needs correcting.

But when he picks up the sheet of simple maths she’s expected to give her teacher on monday, all Meng Yao sees is her name.

It’s really funny. He knows her name of course, though he hasn’t heard it in a while. Even her mother took up to calling her Beastie after he nicknamed her that. It just fits her so well, that active little girl who prefers trousers over dresses because they're easier to move in and always wants to play at fighting. She’s a real little monster, and Meng Yao loves her like that. She’s just Beastie.

But according to the homework she’s spent the afternoon on, she’s also Nie Mingjue.

It could just be a coincidence. Names are funny like that, they pop up in unexpected places, they get forgotten and reused. Perhaps in another life, Meng Yao would have just dismissed it as a random incident.

In another life, he wouldn’t have been called Meng Yao.

It’s the first time this happens since that first life they all shared. He’s Meng Yao again, Lan Xichen bears his old name too, and now he’s found a Nie Mingjue, hiding right under his nose. A Nie Mingjue who likes fighting, and claims that her toy sword is actually a sabre, and who always insists a lot on things being fair, even when Meng Yao tries to give her the biggest share of a food she likes.

It can’t be a coincidence.

Meng Yao needs to tell someone.

He needs to tell Nie Huaisang.

He tries, of course, and without surprise his former employer’s number has been terminated. He has the same luck trying to send an email. Nie Huaisang might as well never have existed. Meng Yao feels helpless, torn between tears and laughter. After spending centuries looking for his brother, Nie Huaisang just might have lost his chance due to being so damn dramatic. Serves him right, Meng Yao thinks, still bitter about being discarded so easily, and never getting a chance to see if things might work better in this life.

Bitterness doesn’t last. Meng Yao cares about Nie Huaisang, more than he should if he were a little smarter, and he knows how important finding his brother again would be for him. And if Nie Huaisang can’t be directly contacted, there’s always indirect ways.

It’s not that Meng Yao misses Lan Xichen, he tells himself that night, when Beastie is back with his mother and he starts writing a long text message on his phone. Well, it’s not just that, anyway. He does miss Lan Xichen, sweet and funny and so eager when talking about art. But more importantly, Lan Xichen probably has access to Lan Wangji, who clearly must know how to contact Nie Huaisang.

Texting Lan Xichen is a strategic choice.

The way Meng Yao's heart jumps inside his chest when Lan Xichen immediately replies is… it's strategic too. He's just glad that his plan is working.

How have you been? :)

I could have been worse. I've just realised something and I think it concerns you. I've told you about that kid I babysit, haven't I?

Little Beastie? Is she okay? D:

She's Nie Mingjue.

This time, the answer isn't immediate. Meng Yao stares nervously at his phone, wondering if Lan Xichen thinks he's lying, or planning something. Considering their first life, who could blame him?

But after a few minutes, his phone vibrates again.

Sorry, I dropped my phone and couldn't get it back from under the couch. Are you sure?? (⊙ˍ⊙)

It all fits. You could come meet her if you want. But it's him, I'm sure.

Did you tell Nie Huaisang???

I can't contact him. Are you in touch with Lan Wangji? Maybe he can warn him.

I have his number, I just texted him! I'll keep you updated! It's so wonderful if it's da-ge!! Can I really meet him? ╰(*°▽°*)╯

Her*?

I'll send you my address. If you can come tomorrow, she'll be there.

Are you sure? I don't think da-ge would still want me around. (≧﹏ ≦)

Meng Yao gives that question the consideration it deserves. It's not an unfair worry to have, and he'd be wondering the same if he hadn't known Beastie for so long.

I literally killed him, and he killed me. If she had to hate anyone it'd be me, but we get along great. We're no longer the same people we used to be. It's the same for her.

If you're sure, then I'll come! (❁´w`❁)

Meng Yao is very sure indeed.

So Lan Xichen comes.

It's odd to invite someone to his flat. It's a small place, a bit messy, full of trinkets and DVDs that Meng Yao would never admit to owning, not with the image he wants to create. He's always avoided guests. But having Lan Xichen over is as rewarding as it is terrifying. Lan Xichen brought some charming little cakes, as if he's visiting someone important, and he smiles at the sight of a movie poster on the wall, confessing he watched it so often as a teenager that the tape broke one day.

"It's my favourite too!" Beastie exclaims. "Meng-ge has it, you know! Can we watch it now?"

Normally, Meng Yao would point out that it's a little rude to ask that when they have a guest. But he can see that Lan Xichen is nervous and unsure how to act around Nie Mingjue, and maybe a movie will let them all relax.

In the end, they spend a pleasant afternoon, the three of them. Once Lan Xichen stops worrying that the Nie Mingjue of old will appear and shout at him for getting him killed, he starts chatting with Beastie about her favourite movies, what she's learning in school, what she wants to be when she grows up. She's very happy to answer, and very impressed when he explains he's a teacher, even though she's finding it hard to accept that most of his students are fully adult.

And when Beastie is back with her mother, Lan Xichen lingers for a while, tempted by the offer of Meng Yao's favourite takeaway.

“It’s amazing how much like him she is,” Lan Xichen says as they sit on the sofa to wait for the food to arrive. “It’s the first time he reincarnates, you know. At least, Wangji told me they’d never found any trace of him before.”

Guilt shoots through Meng Yao. It’s his fault if Nie Mingjue’s soul was so fractured it took him this long to be reborn. Or at least, it’s the fault of someone he was, once, which is nearly the same, and yet completely different. Meng Yao has learned from living and dying several times, and he’s lucky enough to live in a kinder world than Jin Guangyao did. It helps.

“She’s also different from him, though,” Lan Xichen continues, moving just a little closer, until they’re almost touching.

“We’ll, for starters she’s a kid,” Meng Yao points out, wondering if he should take the other man’s hand. If this had happened before the Hanshi, he would have, but he’s not sure where they stand now.

“It’s not just that. In that first life, I knew da-ge as a child too and he was…” Lan Xichen sighs and makes a vague hand gesture. “He was a lot. Way too serious sometimes. We all were, I suppose, but him most of all. The Nie tended to grow fast, to compensate for dying young. I’m… I’m glad that he gets to properly be a child this time. That she gets to be a child.”

“The world has changed,” Meng Yao says, finding the courage at last to brush his fingers against Lan Xichen’s. “Things aren’t always easy but they’re… easier, I suppose.”

Lan Xichen’s returns that touch, gentle and careful as always. This, too, is easier now than it was back then. It’s not easy, but there’s less pressure to conform, less demands to be good dutiful sons, and just a little more space to be their own people, to make their own choices.

Maybe in their next life they’ll meet again and it’ll be even easier to be like this. But even now, Meng Yao is ready to take the chances that his past self wouldn’t have dared to dream of. He leans toward Lan Xichen, hoping to kiss him, but a knock on the door interrupts them and he jumps to his feet to go get their food. The delivery man looks at him a little funny, but makes no comment. If Meng Yao is half as red as Lan Xichen, he deserves those odd looks.

Nothing happens again that night. The moment has passed, and after eating, Lan Xichen has to go home because he has engagements the day after that he can’t cancel.

It's not a date that night, no more than any of their previous encounters were.

It's not a date then, but next time, when Lan Xichen invites him to a restaurant, Meng Yao is informed in no unclear terms that this is, in fact, a date. They go see a movie after, and Meng Yao gets to kiss one of the two most handsome men in the world.

Life is good.

Life is really good, and yet Meng Yao wants more.

In spite of their efforts, Lan Xichen and him can't get in touch with Nie Huaisang to inform him that his brother has finally reincarnated. Even Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are getting worried. From what they told Lan Xichen they haven't had any contact with him since the day they picked him up at the Hanshi.

"They say he's done that before," Lan Xichen tells him. "They think he'll return in a decade or two, maybe a little longer. Time is hard for immortals, they lose track easily."

That's all very well for them, but Meng Yao doesn't have a few decades to waste, and neither does Nie Mingjue. They're not immortals. One bad illness, a reckless driver, just tripping in the stairs, and it's all over until they reincarnate again, and Meng Yao is done with missed chances.

If he can't directly get in touch with Nie Huaisang, Meng Yao can make a few discreet calls to former buyers, and advise them to get their purchase asserted again, just in case. He makes sure to only contact people who bought legitimate artworks of course. He wants to make a wave, not get in trouble. If Meng Yao knows Nie Huaisang even half as well as he thinks he does, then even in hiding Nie Huaisang will be checking what’s happening in the world of art collectors, and he’ll hear about some of his buyers suddenly becoming fearful of fakes.

It’s a little mean perhaps, when Nie Huaisang is so proud of his counterfeits, but kindness has never been Meng Yao’s greatest quality.

Besides, it works.

One afternoon, when Meng Yao is alone at home, checking a job offer that he’s probably going to reject because he deserves better, there’s a knock on the door. Meng Yao considers ignoring it, but some of his elderly neighbours have been coming to ask for help with their phones or whatever new fancy blender their kids got them to make life easier. Usually, five minutes of easy work means free homemade food for his next meal, which is always a great deal.

When he opens the door, there’s a very old man waiting in the corridor alright, but free food is probably out of the question.

“Well, I’m here,” Nie Huaisang says. “Whatever is going on, it’d better be important.”

#xisangyao #xiyao #sangyao #xisang #counterfeit au #lan xichen #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes

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k-s-morgan · 5 years ago

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Will’s vs. Hannibal’s Ways of Expressing Love

The fact that Hannibal loves Will and is in love with him is openly stated in the show several times. Will’s feelings, on the other hand, are more ambiguous, which is why some viewers often doubt whether Hannibal’s love is reciprocated. I think that exploring the ways these two men experience and react to love can explain the varying degrees of their openness about it.

I’ll put TLDR right here: Hannibal is more open about himself and his feelings, including love, hence he doesn’t have many challenges with admitting it. Will is closed off, stiff, and emotionally repressed, so he expresses his feelings in a much more subtle way.

Let’s start with Hannibal. Details about his past are scarce, but we know that he admits to loving two people throughout his life, his sister and Will.

E3 of S3.

*Bedelia: What your sister made you feel was beyond your conscious ability to control or predict … I would suggest what Will Graham makes you feel is not dissimilar. A force of mind and circumstance.*

*Hannibal: Love.*

Undoubtedly, Hannibal’s love for Mischa was traumatic and unhealthy. He loved her so much that he ate a part of her body after she was killed, devastated by this loss. But it was still love that made him feel all the related emotions, so Hannibal has some experience with it. From what we know of him, he has a very broad mind. He despises limitations and overcomes them, and he is not ashamed of who he is. He isn’t embarrassed to cry in the opera or to be the first to stand up and applaud; he delights in stereotypically ‘feminine’ hobbies like cooking and clothes selection; he draws fan-art and openly expresses his admiration when it’s due. For this reason, Hannibal doesn’t have many problems with expressing love either.

Upon meeting Will, he is immediately drawn to him. He sees him as his potential partner and decides he wants to try and build a family with him as early as E2 of S1. That’s when he starts planting the idea of Abigail being their shared daughter in Will’s mind. He does the same to Abigail, urging her to see him and Will as her parents, even giving her shrooms to evoke the desired associations (unsuccessfully since Will doesn’t come to dinner). So, Hannibal acknowledged his pull/infatuation with Will from the very start, and he acted on it right away.

It’s not 100% love at this point, but Hannibal still easily follows his emotions. He doesn’t stop to consider how strange it is to want a family with a man he just met; he doesn’t agonize over the idea of how his life has more risks now that he allows another human being to know him. When these feelings progress at the end of S1/start of S2, Hannibal is finally taken aback. While he never planned to leave Will in prison and it was a part of his plan, he still didn’t expect to miss him so much — he admits it to Bedelia, looking forlorn, in E1 of S2. He repeatedly pines for Will by sitting in front of his chair at the time of his supposed appointment, glancing at the clock despite knowing Will is not going to come. This is a shift to an actual love, but Hannibal still doesn’t fight it. On the contrary, he embraces it, and he spends the entire S2 doing repeatedly romantic gestures for Will. Namely:

1) Protects Abigail to reunite Will with her later.

2) Shares a part of himself he doesn’t seem to have ever shared with anyone else. He talks to Will about Mischa, reveals his views on murder and God, acknowledges he cared about Abigail, and shows vulnerability. He shares his teacup ritual with him, which is something precious and deeply personal.

3) He digs up fake Freddie’s corpse and decorates it as a way of courting Will (as directly said by Alana).

4) He draws a fan-art of himself and Will as Achilles and Patroclus.

5) He is ready to abandon his well-established life in Baltimore and reputation to run away with Will. In Hannibal’s view, no one truly suspects him and there is no evidence against him, but Will is in danger. So he’s willing to discard everything he’s been building for 20 years for him.

Finally, he calls Will a loved one more or less directly in E13 of S2 (in fact, he implies that they both love each other).

*Hannibal: Do you know what an imago is, Will? … An imago is an image of a loved one buried in the unconscious, carried with us all our lives.*

*Will: An ideal.*

*Hannibal: The concept of an ideal... I have a concept of you, just as you have a concept of me.*

Will hurts him with his betrayal, and Hannibal still finds himself unable to kill him. He is openly crying in the finale, admitting how Will hurt him, breaks his (and his own) heart by killing Abigail, and flees to Europe to start a new life. But things don’t go as he hoped they would. Bedelia is not a worthy substitute, and Hannibal is increasingly slipping into a self-destructive state because of his love for Will. He kills Anthony, who was an improved copy of Will, and turns him into a Valentine heart for him. Again, this is a very explicit and open emotional action. Hannibal doesn’t hide his feelings. He’s an emotional wreck with Bedelia in E3, and as they are talking about Will, he admits he’s in love with him.

*Hannibal: You cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love.*

Bedelia points out his self-destructiveness.

*Bedelia: You're going to get caught. It's already been set into motion … I know exactly how I will be navigating my way out of whatever it is I’ve gotten myself into. Do you?*

After Hannibal keeps spiraling and kills Sogliato, she adds: *You're drawing them to you, aren't you? All of them.*

Hannibal gets so self-destructive over Will that he lets Jack beat himself almost to death, not even attempting to fight him. The first words he says to Will after they reunite in E6 are:

*Hannibal: If I saw you every day forever, Will, I would remember this time.*

He’s a romantic. The courtship, the Valentine heart, the romance — Hannibal did have some struggles, but overall, he accepts these feelings and isn’t afraid to act on them.

When Will pulls a knife in E6, Hannibal classifies it as another betrayal. This is where he decides to kill and eat him in the hope to put an end to this misery (which is what he and Bedelia discussed back in E3). However, even blinded by another heartbreak, Hannibal tries to save Will at the same time. He knows the police are coming and he puts off the moment of sawing for as long as he can, first fussing over Will and his wound, then waiting for Jack, then doing everything slowly as hell.

Everything changes in E7, when Hannibal faces the real risk of losing Will and comes to terms with the fact that a hope of life with him is better than life without him. So Hannibal carries Will home bridal-style, takes care of him, waits for him to wake up and writes formulas to reverse time. He directly tells Will that Will won, and that he, Hannibal, is at Will’s mercy.

*Hannibal: Your memory palace is building. It's full of new things. It shares some rooms with my own. I've discovered you there. Victorious.*

He gives himself up, sacrificing the freedom he’s been fighting for back in E2 finale, in the hope that one day, Will is going to come back to him. After this, Hannibal is all about Will, with all his heart. Throughout the second half of S3, he says things like, *“I gave you a child. You are family, Will. Was it good to see me?”*, etc. He agrees to risk his life by agreeing to Will’s plan, knowing he’s planning something but not knowing what and if he’d die in the process. In E13, Hannibal says:

*Hannibal: "No greater love hath man than to lay down his life for a friend"* and shields Will from the bullet. Later, he allows Will to push them both down, and he stays with him afterward.

Conclusion: Hannibal is very accepting of himself, so he doesn’t undergo severe challenges on the path to acknowledging what he feels for Will. He knows what love feels like because he felt it for Mischa before, so he embraces loving Will pretty quickly, even though he doesn’t know how to best approach it at times. That’s why we get direct and explicit confirmation of his feelings several times.

Now, on to Will.

Unlike with Hannibal, there is no evidence that Will has ever experienced love before (at least love for people). We know he had a father and was lonely as a child.

E4 of S1.

*Will: We were poor. I followed my father from the boat yards in Biloxi and Greenville to lake boats on Erie.*

*Hannibal: Always the new boy at school? Always the stranger?*

*Will: Always.*

His choice of words indicates that his relationship with his father wasn’t all that good (for instance, *I followed my father* instead of *My father and I had to…*). So, it doesn’t look like Will ever had meaningful connections. More than that, he says:

*Will: There’s something so foreign about family. Like an ill-fitting suit. Never connected to the concept.*

We can suggest that he doesn’t know what love is or how it feels like. From E1, we know he isolates himself because he hates himself for who he is: he understands he’s different, that there is darkness in him, but he desperately tries to subdue it and deny this fact. He’s rude, twitchy, and unhappy, but like Hannibal, he understands the extent of his loneliness only upon meeting him. That’s when he tries forming relationships with others.

Will’s relationships with Alana and Abigail are a good indication of his problems with love. He wants to be with Alana because he needs to feel normal. In 99% of cases, he remembers about her only when she comes to seek him out first. He kisses her for the first time at the moment of particular vulnerability, fearing that he’s finally losing his mind (in E8). When Hannibal calls him out on it, Will doesn’t deny it and semi-nods. He actually had to agree with it verbally according to the script.

*Will: I feel unstable.*

*Hannibal: That’s why you kissed her. A clutch for balance.*

*Will: Because I’m losing mine.*

So, it’s not that Will feels romantic love for Alana — he uses her because he desperately needs to feel like everyone else. Alana is a pretty, smart, normal woman who fits this goal perfectly. He doesn’t allow himself to be genuine with her unlike he does with Hannibal, to whom he opens up.

Will confesses to Hannibal that he loved killing Hobbs in E2, which got him down and made him panic. Hannibal supports him, and Will keeps coming back to him. He talks about everything important with Hannibal, opening parts of himself that he guards from everyone else. Will asks Hannibal to look after his dogs as early as E4 — he doesn’t have other friends, and he’s already focused on Hannibal. He buys into an idea of having a family with him and Abigail, which is amazing for Will, who has just said he could never relate to the concept of family.

When Will buys a gift for Abigail in the same E4 and freaks out, Hannibal asks him:

*Hannibal: Feeling paternal, Will?*

Will’s reaction is instant and defensive:

*Will: Aren’t you?*

Hannibal easily says “yes”, which disarms Will. This is a great contrast between them: Hannibal isn’t afraid to talk and acknowledge his feelings while Will is embarrassed of them and shies away from them. In fact, this is a repeat of their conversation in E2.

*Hannibal: You saved Abigail Hobbs' life. You also orphaned her. It comes with certain emotional obligations.*

*Will: You were there. You saved her life, too. Do you feel obligated?*

Again, Will deflects. He’s wary of emotions, especially of admitting them out loud.

Will shows a hint of romantic interest in Hannibal in E7. He brings him a bottle of wine out of blue, but unfortunately, he stumbles upon the party Hannibal is preparing. Hannibal invites him to stay, but Will says he won’t be good company. He’s shy and awkward, smiling nervously and dropping his gaze in embarrassment. Then we have this lovely line:

*Will: I’ve got a date with the Chesapeake Ripper.*

So, in S1, Will makes considerable emotional progress. He realizes he wants a family after all, and while he makes several half-hearted attempts to court Alana, he’s mostly focused on Hannibal and Abigail. He opens himself up to Hannibal, receives official guardianship over Abigail with him, arguably flirts with Hannibal (like in the wine scene above), and covers up murder to protect their family. But then Hannibal betrays him. Will doesn’t know his reasons yet, but this betrayal plunged him into darkness, bitterness, and new stage of emotional repression. It’s worth mentioning another point of Abigail here: in the end, Will doesn’t know her. He spoke to her only several times, and even fewer times were genuine. He loves the idea of her, and this idea was introduced by Hannibal, not by Abigail’s presence. It’s Hannibal who forced Will to confront his need to love and be loved.

In S2, Will is incredibly conflicted. He acknowledges to Hannibal that he hurt him, tries to kill him via Matthew, but when he recognizes that Hannibal wants him as a friend (as spoken in E7), his attitude changes. Will doesn’t plan to forgive him, he’s still angry at Hannibal for killing Abigail (which is his biggest conflict, as evident from his talks with Hannibal himself and Freddie), but now, he can’t bring himself to harm or betray Hannibal.

He gets his first chance in E7, after being released from prison. He threatens Hannibal with a gun and has a perfect chance to make him pay, but he doesn’t. Instead, he conspires with Jack and decides to cultivate co-dependency, creating an environment where only he “and the fish exist” (E8). What does Will do to start? He makes himself physically attractive, grooming and dressing prettily. It’s a seduction on all levels, and Will plans to use emotions to hurt Hannibal back. At the same time, Will admits to being confused over what he feels for Hannibal.

E8 of S2.

*Will: I envy you your hate. Makes it much easier when you know how to feel.*

E9 of S2 (talking about trying to kill Hannibal with Margot).

*Margot: Did he have it coming?*

*Will: What do you think?*

*Margot: I can't say that I know.*

*Will: Neither can I.*

He spends the rest of the season lying to both Hannibal and Jack, unsure whose side to choose, too lost in his own feelings to make sense of them. At the same time, he has a dream where Hannibal calls him beloved in E9. It shows that Will contemplates the idea of love in relation to Hannibal. In E10, Will tries to fantasize about Alana as he’s having sex with Margot. However, he sees the image of Wendigo near the fireplace, Wendigo who he’s used to associating with Hannibal. Two interesting things (copied from my other meta): first, Will actually sees Hannibal’s room and consequently, he sees himself in it (or he sees their rooms united). Second, he sees the Wendigo near Hannibal’s fireplace. Fireplace has many meanings, including passion, sexuality, home, family, and resurrection. It emphasizes the sexual and romantic subtext of this uniquely shot scene, where people destined to be together have sex with the wrong partners. Will’s vision begins to contract, focusing on Wendigo: he is having an orgasm at this very moment, imagining the Wendigo’s face very close, approaching him. Still through the misty eyes, he tries to focus on Alana again, but his gaze moves up to Wendigo above her, as if he can’t help himself. He and Hannibal reach orgasm first, with Alana and Margot following them. So, Will dragged Hannibal into his sex fantasy. It’s both symbolic and physical: he tried to imagine Alana just like he tried to have a relationship with her before, in S1, out of his desire to be normal. But his attention is inevitably drawn to Hannibal, who’s his “real deal”.

Based on this scene, it’s underlined once again how Will struggles with emotions. Even in the safety of his own mind, in his own fantasy, he tries to think of Alana but still ends up with Hannibal. Will is always fighting himself and who he is. He refuses to accept his darkness just as he refuses to admit he loves Hannibal. It’s the essence of who he is, denial is his second name.

Among the important moments, there are Will’s words to Hannibal:

*Will: You are right. We are just alike. You are as alone as I am. And we are both alone without each other.*

So, Will accepts the bond with Hannibal, and at this stage, he even has the courage to voice some of his emotional thoughts. His progress is slow, but it’s there.

In E11, Will has a nightmare. He sees a burning corpse of ‘Freddie’ in a wheelchair, a symbol of his betrayal of Hannibal, and he hears his own increasing screaming. It’s easy to interpret, knowing the context: Will feels guilty for lying to Hannibal.

When Margot loses her child, Will feels renewed anger at Hannibal. He fantasizes about killing him and gets to realize his fantasy with Mason’s help in E12. But at the last moment, Will changes his mind and chooses Hannibal. He does the same thing in E13 by calling him. When he sees him, he doesn’t even try to point a gun at him: he asks why he didn’t leave as he was supposed to, and he even leans forward to accept the knife, accept the punishment for betrayal.

So, Will chooses Hannibal over Abigail, for whom he wanted justice; over his and Margot’s child, for whom he wanted revenge; over Jack and Alana, who were his only semblance of friends; over his own confusion and desire to be normal. For someone as emotionally stunted as Will, it’s huge. It proves that he loves Hannibal and is willing to compromise all other relationships he has formed as well his own beliefs for him (while Will is dark, he tries to fight it because he doesn’t think people like them are normal). Is it romantic? Will’s dream with the word “beloved” and his sex fantasy, as well as his acceptance of the idea that he and Hannibal were Abigail’s fathers (which makes them partners) imply that yes, romantic feeling is a part of it.

Hannibal’s romantic feelings became explicit in S3, and so did Will’s. But since Hannibal is more open and self-accepting, his were discussed out loud while Will’s were mostly portrayed silently, implied, and alluded to.

Will builds a boat to sail and find Hannibal, which is pretty romantic by itself. He spends his time in Hannibal’s house, in the kitchen where their bloody break-up happened, imagining Abigail near him. When Alana comes to find him, he asks her to leave. He’s cold and indifferent toward her — she’s not what he wants, and he’s not interested in even friendship with her. All he wants is to mourn his lost family with Hannibal and Abigail. Again, Hannibal is Will’s priority.

Will imagines his perfect world as the one where he and Hannibal killed Jack together. This scene is intercut with his Mizumono memories, namely, with Hannibal's face that emerges every time he moves yet another part of the engine. This is a vivid demonstration of Will trying to repair what is now broken. When Jack asks him why he called him, Will is indifferent and genuine:

*Will: I wasn't decided when I called him. I just called him. I deliberated while the phone rang. I decided when I heard his voice … I told him to leave. I wanted him to run … Because he was my friend. And because I wanted to run away with him.*

That’s a big admission for Will. This is the first time he openly acknowledges Hannibal as his friend in front of another person. Chilton calls Will and Hannibal’s interactions a “flirtation” in this episode, which once again points us in the romantic direction.

The entire E2 of S3 is dedicated to Will’s love for Hannibal, where he argues about it with himself in the form of imaginary Abigail. This is another proof of Will’s problem with emotions in general and emotions for Hannibal in particular. He can’t just think to himself as normal people do — no, he can’t admit how much he loves Hannibal this. Instead, he imagines Abigail and talks to himself through her to make it easier. He berates himself for lying.

*Will/Abigail: We were all supposed to leave together. He made a place for us. Why did you lie to him? He gave you a chance to take it all back, and you just kept lying.*

Will is reverent about Hannibal; he keeps talking about him over and over again.

*Will: This isn't Hannibal, it's just where he begins. Beyond this, far and complex, light and dark, is the vast structure of his mind. A thousand rooms, miles of corridors. Everything he remembers, wonderfully and fearfully reconstructed.*

Will goes as far as lies at the place where Hannibal’s Valentine heart for him was, reconstructing this image and trying to feel close to him. The heart comes to life the moment Will touches it, which is romantic. Will says:

*Will: A valentine written on a broken man … I do feel closer to Hannibal here. God only knows where I would be without him … He left us his broken heart … He misses us.*

He looks on the verge of tears, so Hannibal’s gift touched him. Will is overcome by emotions. At this very moment, his more frightened side suggests that Hannibal is also playing with him.

*Will: Hannibal follows several trains of thought at once without distraction from any, and one of the trains is always for his own amusement.*

We know it’s not the case, especially here, but Will has trust issues and a low self-esteem. He’s worried that Hannibal’s feelings for him aren’t as strong as he thinks they are, which is why he’s not sure how to react himself. He asks himself, *“You still want to go with him?”* and replies, *“Yes.” He wonders about what life they’d have if they left.

*Will: What if no one died? What if we all left together? Like we were supposed to. After he served the lamb. Where would we have gone? … In some other world.*

Pazzi comes and tells Will that he hopes they’ll catch Hannibal together.

*Will: What makes you think I want to catch him?*

Later, Pazzi says:

*Pazzi: He let you know him. He sent you his heart.*

E2 ends with Will scaring Pazzi and telling him, *“You don’t know whose side I’m on.* Then he tells Hannibal he forgives him, which is also a huge step in his direction.

This entire episode proves that yes, Will loves Hannibal. Considering how he isn’t awkward from receiving a Valentine or hearing that Hannibal gave him his heart, Will shares the romantic aspect of Hannibal’s feelings for him. He regrets not running away with him and their daughter, he places himself on the floor where the heart was to feel closer to him — this is such a rich romantic subtext that it’s practically text. Especially for Will, who remains so conflicted and emotionally restrained all the time.

Will’s attitude changes after seeing Chiyoh. He becomes more bitter. Considering how dark he is in these scenes and how he constantly compares himself and Chiyoh, he likely sees her as someone Hannibal was supposed to love but easily abandoned. It makes Will draw the parallels between them, and he starts to doubt that Hannibal loves him, that his “broken heart” has any authentic meaning. That’s where he starts thinking about killing Hannibal again. He still says:

*Will: I’ve never known myself as well as I know myself when I’m with him.*

This line also speaks volumes. Hannibal gave Will a precious gift of understanding himself; he showed that he could accept him, and Will is drawn to it. Will admits the depth of their connection to yet another person. Then he makes a firefly from Chiyoh’s prisoner, a tribute that is clearly done with Hannibal in his mind, considering the style and the central topic.

Chiyoh sees right through Will’s emotional constipation. She implies that he should “kiss” Hannibal rather than keep being “violent”:

*Chiyoh: I told you, there are means of influence other than violence.*

She kisses Will then, thus showing him what others means exist. He doesn’t get it, though, since he responds to her kiss despite not feeling anything for her, and she pushes him off the train, likely admitting he’s a hopeless case.

Meeting Jack, Will tells him that a part of him will always want to leave with Hannibal. This is yet another declaration from him. Will isn’t scared of the consequences — he speaks of his feelings openly now. It’s a great development of his character.

But the feeling of doubt about Hannibal likely resurfaces further after Will sees that Hannibal replaced him and Abigail with Bedelia in E6 (hence his hatred for her since that moment). He mocks her alibi and then leaves to reunite with Hannibal. The following moment was deleted, but it still discloses some of Will’s romantic feelings:

*Will: I looked up at the night sky there. Orion above the horizon and, near it, Jupiter. I wondered if you could see it, too. I wondered if our stars were the same.*

From the words that did get into the episode:

*Will: You and I have begun to blur ... We're conjoined. Curious if either of us can survive separation.*

Will doesn’t just admit the bond between them, he elevates it the level of soulmates, implying they are one and the same. It’s also a declaration of love in his language. But love doesn’t stop Will from being vindictive, hurt, and angry, so after meetings with Chiyoh and Bedelia that affected his perception, he pulls out a knife as he and Hannibal are walking together.

There is a brain-sawing disaster after this and E7, where Will looks done and tired from the madness and his constant attempts to figure Hannibal out. He does bite Cordell before looking at Hannibal, seeking his approval; he uses “we” pronouns when speaking about Hannibal with Alana. One example:

*Will: You helped Mason Verger find us.*

So, he still sees himself and Hannibal as a team, but he’s still tired and bitter, so after everything is over, he hurts Hannibal by saying he doesn’t share his appetite and by attacking him emotionally.

*Will: I miss my dogs. I'm not going to miss you. I'm not going to find you. I'm not going to look for you. I don't want to know where you are or what you do. I don't want to think about you anymore.*

This is all personal and emotional. It sounds like a break-up, which is exactly how Bryan Fuller and others referred to it. When Hannibal leaves and Jacks arrives, Will puts on his glasses, an indication that he’s hiding again.

Fast-forward 3 years. Will is married now, but from the very start, we see that this marriage isn’t all people usually expect it to be. The first scene shows the family apart. Molly and Walter have gone fishing, which is something Will loves. He had dreams about teaching Abigail how to fish, but he doesn’t go to do that with his family, preferring to stay alone instead. It’s the first hint that his heart isn’t in this relationship, that he’s too hung up on the past to move forward and make new happy memories.

Jack came to drag him to Dragon’s case, and Will makes it look like he’s reluctant. At the same time, he doesn’t send Jack away, even though we know from the past that he has no qualms being frank when he wants to. More than that, he asks him not to show pics to Molly, but when they have dinner, Will deliberately leaves the house with Walter, leaving Jack and Molly together. At night, when Molly’s asleep, he crawls out of bed and goes to read Hannibal’s letter. He doesn’t tell the truth to Molly about himself and his dark urges, about everything he has done – Molly clearly has no idea who he truly is, considering how she jokes about his ‘criminal mind’ in later episodes and how Will immediately closes himself off from her. He never initiates physical touches with her; he doesn’t return her “I love you”, which is an even bigger indication of his lack of commitment. Will is emotionally stiff with Molly for the most part, and the only times he laughs with her or shows any emotion is when they are talking about superficial stuff in the former case and when he’s furious after Francis’ attack in the latter one. Other than that, there is no closeness or honesty.

Another point of Will’s inability to express or even give his love to someone is in his scene with Walter in E11. This child, his step-son, has just been attacked by a serial killer with his mother. His mother was hurt and they barely escaped. Will doesn’t hug him or offer him paternal emotional comfort; he’s very awkward. All he says is, “You're both safe here,” which is something an officer might say but not a father. Will was much more emotional in his fantasies about Abigail.

This is what Will says about Walter’s reaction to Jack:

*Will: He read about me in a Freddie Lounds article. I had to justify myself to an eleven year old.*

He’s resentful and not emotional. He doesn’t say, “I had to justify myself to my son!” – he distances himself from him. Will is cold. He has expressed his feelings for Hannibal at this point in rather poetic ways, but he can’t be bothered to do this for his wife and his son.

He treats Hannibal in a very reserved fashion too, in comparison to how he acted 3 years ago. However: first, there is the fact that he came to visit him in the first place. Will didn’t need his help, we saw very clearly how he managed to easily reconstruct the crime scene the night before. It proved that his mindset is in a good shape, so he didn’t need Hannibal’s assistance. But it’s Hannibal he requested to see right away.

Will distances himself from him by calling him “Doctor Lecter” and insisting that he’s more comfortable the less personal they are. His eyes glisten, though, and he can’t look away from Hannibal. The impersonal approach doesn’t last very long, too, and soon, they are talking like they always did. Hannibal accuses Will of marrying for false reasons.

*Hannibal: How did you choose yours? Readymade wife and child to serve your needs. A stepson or daughter. A stepson absolves you of any biological blame. You know better than to breed. Can't pass on those terrible traits you fear the most.*

Will doesn’t bother to deny it, though any man would have been offended, particularly if he truly loved his family. In Will’s case, from the experience and all the precedents, silence = agreement.

In E10, Will seeks Bedelia out. He acts catty and jealous, targeting her personal connection with Hannibal.

*Will: You didn't lose yourself, Bedelia, you just crawled so far up his ass you couldn't be bothered.* - personal, targeted against Bedelia's attachment to Hannibal.

*Will: You hitched your star to a man commonly known as a monster. You're the Bride of Frankenstein.* - personal, attack with romantic connotation. Bedelia catches up on it and mocks him:

*Bedelia: We've both been his bride. Have you been to see him?*

*Will: Yes.*

*Bedelia: Haven't learned anything, have you? Or did you just miss him that much?*

*Will: Have you been to see him?* - personal again. Will wants to know if Bedelia is keeping contact with Hannibal.

*Bedelia: I've seen enough of him. I was with him behind the veil. You were always on the other side.*

*Will: Something we should talk about.* - again, personal. It's all personal, which is why Bryan and Hugh called them Hannibal's jealous bitchy exes. Will is palpably jealous and he shows his resentment to Bedelia openly.

Later, we have some more romantic references.

*Bedelia: My relationship with Hannibal is not as passionate as yours. You are here visiting old flame. Is your wife aware of how intimately you and Hannibal know each other? … Your experience of Hannibal’s attention is so profoundly harmful yet so irresistible, it undermines your ability to think rationally.*

So, there is romantic text, parallels between Hannibal and Will’s wife, and Will doesn’t deny any of this again. He keeps coming to Bedelia because she’s the only person he can talk about Hannibal to without being watched.

After Hannibal sends Francis after Molly and Walter, Will spends about a minute being angry with him. Then he accuses Hannibal of staging a competition between him and Francis. It is startling: Will spent months, years mourning the loss of Abigail who he didn’t even really know personally, yet he forgets the gravity of what happened to his wife and won very quickly. He leaves Molly and Walter and tells Bedelia that they are finished. One traumatic event, and Will left. It coincides with something very important that happened here: after this, Will finally figures out Hannibal is truly in love with him. So he goes to Bedelia to discuss it with her.

*Will: Is Hannibal in love with me?*

*Bedelia: Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you, and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes. But do you ache for him?*

Will is predictably silent. Obviously, if the answer was no, he would have said no. But he struggles because like we established, he has issues with expressing emotions. He only managed to start referring to Hannibal as his friend openly in this season, opening up about some of his feelings, but he’s not ready to go this far. It would be absolutely out of character for Will to say, “Yes, you know, I’m in love with him! Thanks for helping me see it.” Every confession Will makes is preceded by struggles and heartbreak. But he’s going to reply to Bedelia’s question, only not explicitly-verbally.

Will sets up Chilton and then comes to allegedly say good-bye to Hannibal. He lies several times in their conversation (about Chilton and Molly with Walter), so all his words are automatically suspicious. Regardless, he destroys Hannibal emotionally and walks away. Personally, I believe he was already planning to break him out, so he was playing it up for cameras and also taking a chance to hurt Hannibal for everything again. But whatever his plan was, what happens next is that Will conspires with Francis against Jack, Alana, and the FBI. They agree to break Hannibal out together. Will lies to Jack and then gets to ask Hannibal for help. He’s being flirty and manipulative in this scene.

*Will: I need you, Hannibal … You're our best shot, Hannibal. Please.*

He’s smirking, he leans close to Hannibal, he sends him a flirty look from under his eyelashes. Will is thoroughly enjoying himself, and he does it best when he has some excuse to hide behind.

Later, he lies to Jack and Alana again, leaks info to Francis (who nearly killed his wife and son), and gets many officers killed by proxy. He tells Bedelia the truth that he doesn’t “intend Hannibal to be caught a second time.” He also implies that he’s going to let him go free, which is why Bedelia should pack her bags.

*Bedelia: Can't live with him. Can't live without him. Is that what this is?*

This time, Will agrees, although in his way.

*Will: I guess this is my Becoming.*

For Will, Becoming was always connected to his feelings for Hannibal because accepting himself and his darkness meant being free to escape with Hannibal.

*Bedelia: You found religion. Nothing more dangerous than that.*

In E3, it was stated that love is a God (you can find more here https://www.reddit.com/r/HannibalTV/comments/7w54dg/lovegodreligion_s3_parallels/), so it’s possible to say that religion = love in this context. It certainly makes sense. Will is accepting himself and his emotions, and the trigger was establishing for sure that Hannibal is in love with him.

Will and Hannibal drive to the cliff house. When Hannibal asks Will if he intends to save himself by killing them both (Hannibal and Francis), Will replies:

*Will: I don't know if I can save myself. And maybe that's just fine.*

This is the first time he confesses that he might be incapable of killing Hannibal. Predictably, when Francis comes, Will can’t handle seeing Hannibal killed, so he reaches for his gun.

Will and Hannibal work as a unit and protect each other. Hannibal is shot, nearly strangled, thrown onto the ground, and he is still weakly holding on Francis' leg to prevent him from going after Will, even though it leaves him in an open and vulnerable position — Francis does kick him in the face with his other leg. There is fierce determination on Will's face as he stands up despite the pain and runs to save Hannibal. They act in synch, consummating their relationship.

Then, Will admires how blood looks on his hand and repeats Hannibal’s words:

*Will: It really does look black in the moonlight.*

He remembers the words Hannibal said to him weeks ago in one of their endless interactions. A bit earlier, he perfectly recalled the words Hannibal told him *years* ago, back in the middle of S2.

*Will: I understand that “blood and breath are only elements undergoing change to fuel your Radiance." Hannibal said those words. To me.*

So, Will remembers everything Hannibal told him. He stores these memories. It’s a small but still important proof how important Hannibal is for him.

At the cliff, Will finally accepts the truth.

*Hannibal: See. This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.*

We know what Hannibal wanted: a Murder Husband. What does Will say to this?

*Will: It’s beautiful.*

This is a loud “yes” to Bedelia’s question about his feelings. Will acknowledges, accepts, and admires them. He doesn’t feel awkward, as he would if he knew Hannibal is in love with him but didn’t feel the same. No, he reaches forward to embrace him, and such physical contact from Will is mind-blowing because he almost never does it. He clings to Hannibal, puts his head on his shoulder, touches him as if he wants to melt with him. Then he gives the fate a chance to stop both of them or to set them free. They fall into the ocean under the Love Crime song, another romantic element.

Water symbolizes reborn, and post-credits scene indicates that Will and Hannibal have paid a visit to Bedelia and are in the process of eating her while she’s hiding the fork to stab one of them as he approaches. The deleted epilogue to the series shows that they are in perfect harmony now.

**Conclusion**: Will has passed through a long, painful journey. He went from hiding from emotions and deflecting to not denying and carefully acknowledging them. We don’t hear words “love” or “in love” from him in relation to Hannibal because Will is not that kind of person. He doesn’t use these words freely, and for him, every small emotional step is a struggle. He tried to deceive himself and other numerous times; he tied to deny the truth and manipulate his own mind, but with each season, his feelings for Hannibal became more and more explicit. Will reaching out for physical contact, Will saying “It’s beautiful” are his way of saying, “I ached for you. I love you.”

This is a story of mutual love and obsession, about soulmates, about unique type of connection that few people share. It’s not about Hannibal falling in love and Will not feeling the same. Their feelings are equally strong, but they express them differently, particularly as Will’s are tied to the acceptance of his own darkness.

#will graham #hannibal lecter #hannigram #nbc hannibal #murder husbands

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