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mynametido · 9 months

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Hola a todos!!

I wanted to make my first post on here about the desired reality that I'm currently focused on. This being my Hogwarts dr. Not Harry Potter, Hogwarts. We'll get to that in a minute. Just a note before we go any further as well, I took huge chunks out of my script when re-writing it here because it's quite lengthy, and all you guys need is the gist. Without further ado here is...

Hogwarts

[ a script ]

INTRO

“Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love,” - Albus Dumbledore. I am a 3rd year at Hogwarts School of Wizardry, and I have plans to become a dragon-keeper/dragonologist.

WHERE I ARRIVE

I am riding the Hogwarts express on my way to the Hogwarts School of Wizardry for my first day of year 3.

Our (Fred and I) train carriage smells distinctly like coffee and vanilla beans.

ABOUT ME

Things

- Name = OR name

- 15 years old

- Birthday = February 27th

- I am a full-blood.

- I am an optimistic extrovert.

Background

- Basically long story short my parents died in a house fire when I was 7 and I've been living with my adopted family ever since I was 9.

Appearance

- I don't have a face claim because I just script that I have my desired appearance and let my subconscious fill in the rest. But I guess some unique things that I've written down are:

Food doesn't affect my health or weight.

This just makes life so much easier. No second guessing that extra cookie or unnecessary guilt/shame for "unhealthy" cravings.

I am immune to any facial blemishes, acne, hyper pigmentation, large pores, blackheads, etc. My skin is flawless in every way and is always completely clear.

I'm a little bit of a perfectionist, guys, if you haven't already figured out, but only where it counts. I don't buy into the whole idea that you have to script in flaws for your dr to be "realistic" and meaningful. My motto is, "Even if the world is burning and crashing down around me, at least I'm hot."

(My nails) are indestructible, so they never break when I don't want them to.

Don't mind me, just taking out any minor inconvenience wherever I can. 🧍🏽‍♂️

Skills

- I can sing really well.

- I am fluent in 6 languages: English, Spanish, French, Korean, and Russian + ESL. I am immune to losing fluency in any of these languages.

- I can play chess well.

- My reading pace is 20 spp (seconds per page)

I completely just made that up btw, i don't think that spp is an actual thing. 💀

- I am an amazing artist. My style is so fun. I can easily draw anything and turn it into a masterpiece.

- I can play the piano really well. I am skilled at playing by ear.

You know essentially all of your default run of the mill dark academia associations. Piano playing, chess, speaking Russian, etc etc.

SCHOOL

Academia/status

So I'll just show the first few sentences of each bullet I created because the rest is just fluff.

I get 100%'s on all my tests, assignments, assessments, etc, without fail. I literally am incapable of getting less than perfection on everything. I always get homework and tests done fast with A++ accuracy. I am an excellent student. During a test, I could close my eyes and fill in random answers, and still get full marks on every question.

900 IQ groundbreaking big brain energy with this one everyone (being sarcastic obvi). Why should I work harder when I can...well damn not work at all right?

I am so popular. Everyone absolutely loves me. I am the main character. I live the most exciting teen dream filled life. My life is so interesting and fun, it's like a literal movie. My life is like that one part of the song Art Deco. I can live in the present easily and live each day moment to moment. Everything in my life is perfect. Everyday is an adventure.

I swear I have that song on loop in my head. Lana Del Rey is our lord and savior. 🙏 ❤️

As well as having a separate living area for each house, there is also a designated study space that is outside of the school for each house. The study space is open for students 24/7.

It's such bull that in the movies and books, they have a curfew. No one cares that I'm off doing my hot girl shit hitting them books at 12 am.

Schedule

(First class starts at 8:45 and last class ends at 2:30)

◗ 　1rst period - Core class: Potions

◗ 　2nd period - Core class: Herbology

◗ 　3rd period - All school year: Study Hall (45 minutes)

◗ 　4th period - Elective: Astronomy (1rst semester)

◗ 　4th period - Elective: Transfiguration of charms (2nd semester)

◗ 　5th period - All school year: Lunch

◗ 　6th period - Elective: Divination (1rst semester)

◗ 　6th period - Elective: Care of Magical Creatures (2nd semester)

◗ 　7th period - Core class: History of Magic

◗ 　8th period - Defense Against the Dark Arts

FRIENDS/FAMILY

Family

- Adam Rabon & Lowell Rabon: Adam and Lowell, 38 and 36, are my dads. My parents have been in a loving relationship since Adam was 22 and Lowell was 20. They are in a happy and healthy relationship with each other and will be with each other until death do them part. They are both full-bloods.

- Tobi Rabon: Tobi is my younger brother by 9 years. We have a really strong sibling bond, and my parents adopted him when he was 5 about a year ago.

- Natalie Rabon: Natalie is my aunt on Adam's side. She is a half-blood.

- Aaliyah Haughton: Aaliyah is my aunt on Lowell's side. She is a full-blood.

- 🧸 Fred Weasley: Me and Fred have been friends for 7 years. My family has been longtime customers to the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley. We live very close to the Weasley house.

Friends/Other People

- *TB* Benjamin Wadsworth

- *TB* Someone from my OR

- (Mar) Marlon Wayans

SAFETY

- I am immune from any diseases, illnesses/sicknesses, or any other health impairments (such as lice, and etc.)

- My safeword to leave and go to my OR is "Jumanji", I can't forget this safeword.

- 1 second in or = 1 year in dr

- I have a high pain tolerance.

- I can only die from old age.

- I have an infinite amount of money to spend.

- Neither do Harry Potter or he who shall not be named exist in this reality.

They can both take their raggedy petty ass drama to another reality + (disclaimer: I am not talking about Daniel Radcliffe), Harry seems like he'd be super annoying irl. Anyways, side tangent over.

- I have all my desired clothes and accessories.

- Everything in my dr tastes, looks, feels, sounds, and smells 10x better than my or.

So that's the end of the blog. If you want me to go more in-depth about different parts of my script that I left out, pm me, and we'll talk! I'm still trying to figure out Tumblr, so I don't even know if pms are a thing on here. Okay okay I'm done for now. Happy shifting everyone! ☆☆☆

#Spotify #shifting #shifting realities #desired reality #hogwarts #harry potter #master shifter

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millylouedward · 10 months

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The Very Best Books of 2023

I read 52 books in 2023, and that basically means I can do anything with a strong enough will.

I told myself if I couldn't complete my Goodreads reading challenge this year, I would never amount to anything in life. I would grow old and die and I would not ever be able to say I accomplished anything, because if I couldn't meet this one goal, I would never meet any.

The good news is, I read all 52 books and finished with a month to spare. As it turns out, I am not worthless nor incapable of accomplishment. Yay!

The bad news is, I read a lot of really good books this year. In fact, 61% of the books I read I rated 4 stars or higher. We're going to have to get really serious right now if I'm going to pick only 5 of those 32 Really Good Books.

Here are some of my criteria for Very Best Book of the year:

I remember the story (I'm very forgetful so this is important)

I had a strong emotional reaction to the story

The writing was strong, vibrant, and interesting

The story kept me constantly hooked

Alright, now that that's decided, let's get into it.

5. We Do What We Do In The Dark (Michelle Hart)

This book had me so messed up after I read it. It's like the depressed queer woman anthem. I'm not a big fan of mental health literature like My Year of Rest and Relaxation or The Bell Jar, but I think the addition of another intriguing character who both feeds into the main character Mallory's issues and heals them at the same time created a sense of intrigue for me. We Do What We Do in the Dark is full of beautiful, alluring prose that makes my little literary heart sing and balances out the weight of the obsession Mallory builds for the professor as she fights her own loneliness.

This story stuck with me, really. The relationship between the professor and Mallory is complicated and problematic yet meaningful and sensual and artistic. And don't get me started on the cover. I'm a sucker for paintings as covers for books, and the cover designed by Jaya Miceli is fantastic.

The reason why I leave at the bottom of my top books is that I didn't have a strong emotional reaction to the story. I loved it, I thought it was poignant and profound, I thought about it for months after reading it. But it just didn't quite draw out of me anything deeper than those feelings. And that's okay. This is not a book that is meant to make your eyes go wide and your jaw drop. It's meant to make the reader curious in the best way.

4. Atalanta (Jennifer Saint)

You say Greek myth feminist retelling, I say, SAY LESS.

Atalanta is a powerful retelling of the only woman of the Argonauts on their journey to retrieve the golden fleece. After being raised by bears and adopted by Artemis (goals) she is thrown into a world she's never known when the goddess asks her to join the quest in her name. Our girl Atalanta has to fight vicious creatures both human and non, survive extreme conditions, and make it back to Artemis without breaking her vow of chastity.

I found Atalanta to be heartbreaking and magical at the same time. I was frightened by the horrors she faces yet constantly curious about what the fate of her life with Artemis would be. The writing is beautiful and dynamic. Every character is fully fleshed out and presented flawlessly. I'm pretty sure I cried at the end.

I put this one at number 4 because the first chapter was hella boring. Like, borderline DNF boring. It's not the author's fault, nor is it mine. It's full of exposition that you need in order to understand everything else that's about to happen. I struggled to get through it. But starting right at the beginning of chapter 2, it became increasingly better.

3. In The Dream House (Carmen Maria Machado)

I went into In The Dream House expecting a fictional thriller. I didn't read the blurb. And I was pleasantly surprised when I was wrong.

This memoir is powerful, absurd, inventive. Once I started it I couldn't put it down. The nameless antagonist fills the reader with dread and fear every time they enter the page. It begs questions about the woman in the dream house's intentions and fears. Who is she, really? What brought her to become the monster under the bed in the author's life?

I absolutely loved the structure of the memoir. It's creative and thoughtful. It feels as if the author is dissecting her story to understand it better, putting it under different lenses in hopes that something microscopic will be revealed and explain all the pain she's been through.

This memoir is so profound to me. If I could forget it all and read it for the first time again, I would do so in a heartbeat.

2. The Hike (Drew Magary)

"Every moment I become more confused and concerned" -Milly, at 61.15% into The Hike

I know what you're thinking. Milly, how could you let a male author on your list of the very best books? You probably aren't really thinking that. But I am. How could I? I am a devoted women's lit reader. I love the way women write way more than men. I crave the emotion and the depth that is often lacking in male-written novels. I'm sorry but it's true.

That changed when I read The Hike. Nothing about this story is predictable or sensical. It is wild and painful and scary and funny and absurd. I can only describe it as a blend of The 7 1/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle, The Good Place, and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I'm still thinking about how shocked I was at the ending. I can't even begin to explain (pun intended).

The narrative follows a man who goes out for a short hike and ends up on a years long journey as he tries to get back to his family. It sounds very yawn, I know. But his journey is full of odd creatures that don't make sense, like a talking sea creature and a cannibalistic giant and dog-faced bad guys. All the while, he is trying to make his way to the "Producer," the only person who can release him from the path and return him to his family.

The Hike is easily one of the best books I've ever read.

1. Carrie Soto is Back (Taylor Jenkins Reid)

I picked up this book because of the cover. Who is Carrie Soto? What is she coming back from? With her head tilted towards a golden glow, bathing her in the color, the reader can imagine that this is a story about a woman with serious power (cue Money, Power, Glory by Lana Del Rey).

And the reader would be right. Carrie Soto is the bet tennis player in the world, until her body begins to slow her down and she is forced to retire. Then, when a young tennis star puts Carrie at risk of losing everything she worked for, she returns to the game to defend her title one last time.

Can I just say, I love good boss bitch main character. I love the women who just don't give a fuck, who are not here to put up with anyone's shit, who want to win and say fuck you all and go home. Carrie Soto is my woman.

Taylor Jenkins Reid delivered a riveting, edge of your seat story in Carrie Soto is Back, and does so with a fantastic writing style. The narrative jumps back and forth between Carrie Soto growing up as a young tennis player to her as an adult in the 90s preparing to face off against Nicki Chan.

What I love so much about this book is that it makes the reader question why we treat women in the public eye the way we do. It asks the reader to consider what we really want when we want fame and money and success. What does any of it mean when we have no one?

You can imagine how sad I was when I realized I'd just finished the best book of this year in MARCH. I sat there on my couch thinking there is absolutely no way I will find a book that makes me feel the way Carrie Soto is Back did. Ugh. If y'all have recommendations. Send them my way for 2024.

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rtnortherly · 1 year

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One of the DnD campaigns I’m in is hoping to wrap up in a handful of sessions, and of course it’s gotta end with a big huge battle. I’m having so much fun prepping for it—but boy howdy am I, and my desperately neurotic healer and reluctant party leader feeling the weight of all these people’s lives. Like. She had to call on her family (among others who she had promised sanctuary to), who are also in the military/security business and one of them is a new father and if anything happens to any of them she’s going to feel it in her soul for the rest of her life.

Meanwhile our DM is suggesting that if we have any thoughts on how we want our characters’ stories to conclude to let him know—but my girl Brynma’s fate fully depends on how many people die—it’s going to determine whether she become a lonely wanderer working through years of trauma, a workaholic trying to help re-stabilize the dwarven kingdom, or just some dwarf lady who continues her adventures trying to build good things in the world in between spoiling her nieces and nephews.

I do want it to be a healthy ending for her though, even if it takes her time, because when I made her she was a reflection of all my untreated anxiety and I’ve made so much progress since then. I’d like to showcase (to me myself and I) how important it is to learn to trust both others and yourself, and move forward with hope and healing—which makes sense, because her god is Goibhniu (life, knowledge) and his tenets (based on what I scrounged up) are all about hospitality, and improvement. On the surface that’s disclosed as improving skills and not stagnating, but I try to tie that into the concept of self healing (healthy habits are a skill too y’all, they take work and constant training and effort—constant tempering) which then ties into the concept of hospitality in the sense that often to open one’s heart to others, one must also be in a good place. And, after all, with all her wisdom, wouldn’t it be silly for her to offer healing to others, but not herself?

She started out as a young dwarf feeling responsible for all the hurts she couldn’t stop, for the loss and injury of close friends she couldn’t save (even though she had no way to at the time—but that’s not how survivor’s guilt works, probably, and she couldn’t help feeling the weight) and has travelled all over, to other planes, incapable of leaving anyone behind because of it. But I think, at the end of all this, I want her to learn how to forgive herself, how to grieve, how to move forward, and how to protect and be a responsible leader (responsibility is such a thing to wrangle with, in where it’s on the individual and where you have to let others make their own choices and where you need to draw the line between your own actions and how others react—as a person with so much anxiety this is a Concept and I am still learning) and that all those things can exist simultaneously in a way that does not damn her.

Anyways. This is me trying to work it out in my head. I’m feeling so sentimental about this campaign-it’s going to end pretty much on the 5 year mark and so much has happened in my own life since the start it feels like way longer…

(In the meantime I’m coming up with a new character for a new campaign in a new system—his name shall be Sunny and he shall be my good good dumb as bricks boy who will murder a bro😌)

#thoughts #just me having the feels for my own character #dnd cleric #Brynma Grimhilt #watch me inadvertently try to wrestle with anxiety as a concept

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pakeithpsy · 1 month

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I give up, I give up.

I've simply decided that you are either born with this ancient, arcane unlearnable knowledge of how do draw with absolute speed and precision or you're born a talentless, mediocre loser who sucks at everything and cannot make anything above the level of "B+ middle school art student" no matter how many classes you take or what tools you use or how hard you try.

I don't understand it. I'm using the same tips, same tricks, same tools, same software, same default brush as all the pros yet they're somehow able to create beautiful, amazing masterpieces beyond comparison yet all I can make is ugly, shitty MS Paint garbage with soft lines and broken anatomy that wouldn't have even been impressive during the first year of Newgrounds. I was cursed to be born without a natural talent for drawing and now that the industry is dead and indie is the only way to go now I will never be able to live out any of my dreams, because my art sucks and nobody notices or cares about any of my original works and nobody ever will unless I dramatically improve enough to stand toe to toe with the aforementioned experts or somehow acquire huge amounts of money to hire people who actually can draw to do everything for me because I am a talentless, learning-disabled, anxiety-ridden wreck who can't even do the simplest task with any level of adequacy. That's literally the only way, except I live in the middle of nowhere, I was born into a family of nobodies with no artistic background, my job doesn't pay enough to afford a crew and would require me to save up for DECADES if not CENTURIES, and nobody knows who I am and nobody ever will because all my art is terrible and unremarkable and just gets lost in the ocean of the internet run by algorithms that favor corporations or unrealistic expectations for engagement.

I never even wanted to make the next Picasso, I just wanted to make silly little comics and cartoons that make people laugh, but apparently that's not good enough anymore. Now it's go big or go home, and I am the smallest, most insignificant, most incompetent and worthless speck of dust on the entire planet.

It doesn't even make sense. The key to the sharp UPA lines I've so desperately desired for the past 10 years of my art career are an elusive lost art and the closest I've been able to find is just make really fast strokes, but that's impossible. IF MY STROKES ARE TOO FAST THEY'LL JUST BE SLOPPY, ART IS A SLOW PROCESS, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO MASTER THE ART OF DIGITAL DRAWING WHEN IT GOES AGAINST THE VERY RULES OF ART? Even my traditional art is barely impressive, and I feel like the only reason I've ever made anything even close to presentable with plain old pencils and paper is due to my art instructors holding my hand because I'm incapable of creating anything of remotely high quality on my own. That's why I wanted to join the industry - so that way I could focus on my strengths like writing and designing characters while the rest is handled by a team with expertiese in those fields while the studio provides the finances. BUT NOW I CAN'T. The industry is a shithole that hates creatives with a burning passion and only wants to churn out AI-generated reboot slop meaning indie is now the only way to go, and you can't go indie unless you're a big, famous superstar who can outperform Don Bluth and Richard Williams combined with a massive fanbase who will gladly shower you with money, which I don't have. Even when I did have a fanbase from making fetish garbage in Blender they wouldn't even cough up one measly dollar, and it didn't even matter anyway because they were equally entertained by stolen art. Besides, I can't even draw my own damn characters from different angles or in anything other than the basic A-pose, how am I supposed to instruct other artists how to do it, too?

So that's it, my dream is dead because God or whatever outside force that controls this horrid universe decided I do not deserve the gift of being able to draw amazingly or multitask or living a life of wealth and privilege and I'll never be able to change that because I cannot learn this information no matter what and nobody knows or cares who I am. I know SOME PEOPLE on that other godforsaken hellsite will try and go "WELL IT'S YOU'RE OWN FAULT BECAUSE YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE, HURR DURR". Bitch, you think I wanted this life?! Even when I was nice to you people and earnestly showing off my art and trying my damnedest to get myself out there and asking "Hey, does anybody need a writer????" none of you gave a shit! You know why? Because I suck, and because nobody knows who I am, and because the animation world hates writers unless their name is Dave Capdevielle! An audience for my work simply does not exist and social media's broken algorithms mean I can never, ever find one or realistically maintain that audience due to this obsession on making everything into "content" that exists only to be immediately consumed and generate profits for corrupt CEOs.

My whole goal in life was to go to animation school, get a degree, find some connections, and then join the industry so I could finally live my dream of being an animator. I couldn't even handle four months in online college, and now there's no point in even pursuing it because late-stage capitalism has completely destroyed both college and the industry for all but the most rich and famous. Life is a sick fucking joke.

I should've just killed myself in 2018 when I actually had the chance. Even if it meant never seeing any of my dreams come true it would have at least spared me from watching all my hopes and aspirations for the future crumble in real time and my family could've moved on and found new happiness and meaning in their life. I guess I'll just have to accept the fact that I'm a complete and utter failure as an artist and dedicate the rest of my miserable, obscure existence to working part time for slightly above minimum wage, and even that's not guaranteed. I should've never signed up for that stupid online class. I'd rather still be drawing complete and utter garbage with joy and confidence than mediocre, barely-passable concepts that will never see the light of day while being completely and utterly miserable.

#suicidal #venting #art #my art #animation #indie animation #self-hatred #self-esteem #mental health

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untothebreach · 1 year

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I truly think I've reached the end of my alotted Good Art.

I feel incapable of communicating anything anymore... even having feelings that show in my work. It all feels so contrived and stretched and fake, it's such a struggle to make, when it should be fun or at least cathartic or interesting - should flow like water, or feel like the molding of clay or the hewing of stone, not the slow drag of nails across soft inner skin and pricks of pain in wrist joints.

I want to be able to SAY things with my work. To make stories that are like poetry, to create scenes and poses that speak louder than words. I used to be able to do it so easily, drawing constantly. I made characters sing off the pages, drew poses and expressions, in ink and color and comics, and loved them all.

But now... it's like there's a well that's been run dry, and even when I've given it a rest the wellspring just never came back like it should. Something in me snapped, at some point - during college, I think, or while I was PA'ing - and never came back right after I graduated. Something got taken from me, stolen away by the universe, and now all I can feel is acid jealousy in the back of my throat every time I see someone make what I cannot. It's a reminder of how inferior I am, how worthless a failure I've become. I've stagnated, become hard and rigid and boring and worthless, even with a year of unemployment - so many months I could've been making new things or learning or bettering myself, and I have nothing to show for it because I will never be as good as the people who have it in them to care and push and practice and work and grow. I'm too lazy to be successful, to easily bored and interested in my own comfort to ever truly be able to thrive or tell stories the way I want. I care too much about what other people think, but without what other people think how can you count what you make as worthwhile? Is it really storytelling if you're the only person who reads it?

No. Story is a connection, and I'm simply incapable of doing that right now. Let alone considering the fact that I wouldn't be able to draw it even if my life depended on it. The lines are stiff, the faces off, everything skewed and misshapen.

I hate my work. I hate myself and how incapable I am of getting any better. I hate my hands that feel like they're betraying me and the mind that doesn't seem to work. I hate my achy heart and hous bitter and jealous it's become of everyone and everything around it. I hate myself for not being able to fix this, not being able to get better or be better or make anything anymore. I feel so useless and powerless to stop it, watching myself crumble into dust with nothing to do but watch my life and all the promise it held go down the drain while I claim to be living my dreams.

I just wanted to tell stories... and now I can't even manage to just do that.

#breachspeak #october 7 2023

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the-lone-witch-and-secret-room · 3 years

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The Blight twins, codependency and fatal communication failure

Recently I talked about “the Blight children and toxic behaviors”, specifically about the tough love fallacy and how their parents get them to target each other rather than backing each other up.

In that post I mentioned wanting to make one specifically on the relationship of the Blight twins, and, well, here we are.

When we think of The Owl House and unhealthy/toxic platonic relationships, we think of the one Amity has with the twins in the earlier episodes, or Eda and Lilith, or the one the Blight kids have with their parents. I’m pretty sure very few people would look at these words and think of Edric and Emira… but it’s true nonetheless. The twins are raised in a very toxic environment that teaches them a lot of unhealthy mechanisms. The heavily codependent relationship the two siblings share is incredibly unhealthy for both of them.

Let’s get into why.

More under cut because hell this got long.

Who am I without you?

The Blight Twins always show up as a unit. They’re a set of two, who share the same track and are involved in the same shenanigans.

We never see them separate from each other in the show. Not a single time.

Their mother picks their matching outfits, according to Dana, because she likes her kids to be “color-coordinated.” They’re supposed to always look similar.

To Amity, they’re a united front—we don’t get to see her relationship to them separate from each other, we only get her relationship with “the twins.”

As far as I’m aware we’ve never gotten art from Dana featuring just one of them. They’re also often treated as a pair by the fandom (outside of their respective ships, that is), showing up together and showcasing very similar behaviors in fics, showing up together in fanart, etc.

We don’t have much content of just one of them with Amity (or anyone else that’s not their romantic partner).

You also don’t generally see them disagreeing a lot in fan content, which is interesting. Despite being two separate characters, they don’t get to actually be separate from each other a ton.

The main difference you see in their portrayal is in Emira being treated as the more responsible older sister, while Edric gets treated as more goofy (and a bit of an idiot), both in the show and fanon content. But that’s essentially it.

The twins are the twins. There’s no “just Edric” or “just Emira”. They don’t seem to exist without each other.

Their united front is both their greatest strength and their weakest link. They likely experienced a similar abuse as the one Amity went through, but they always had each other to lean on instead of enduring it alone. And while it definitely helps them a ton that they have each other, it also results in an unhealthy amount of codependency. Edric and Emira ONLY ever had each other. Their relationship with Amity is pretty bad and outside of that almost nonexistent up until Lost In Language, mostly used to hurt each other. Edric is always with Emira and Emira is always with Edric and there is no one else they can fall back on. Their most important relationship, the one with each other, is simultaneously the only one they have, one that they desperately clung to for a very long time. They don’t have any friends that we’re aware of.

Both Emira’s and Edric’s worst fear is born out of this. Despite being completely opposite fears, they stem from the same basic issue. In Enchanting Grom Fright, when they talk about their worst fears, Edric says “Being alone forever.” while Emira says “Being stuck with you forever.”

There is so much characterization in those two little sentences.

Edric has a fear of being alone because he’s always around Emira. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be alone, and he doesn’t want to find out. He doesn’t know who he is without Emira. This is somewhat subtle in the show, but she’s shown to be the more responsible of the two, preventing her brother from eating snow and being bitten by a bat. Edric looks to Emira for guidance, and his fear of being alone might stem from him not thinking himself capable of taking care of himself. Emira is smart and knows what she’s doing, and so Edric always runs after her. Even just entertaining the thought of being without her, without anyone to guide him, scares him so much that he proclaims it his worst fear. He likely leans on Emira a ton.

His desire to to lean on other people because he thinks himself incapable of handling issues himself comes with the possibility of him opening up easier, to the extent of oversharing, doing it so much that it becomes overbearing for Emira. But even if he can open up about some of the fears he has related to not meeting their parents expectations, he can’t really communicate the issues he has that involve Emira, because open communication about their issues is something they generally struggle with (see the point about lack of communication further below). Edric is under the impression that he needs someone else because he’s never been without Emira and doesn’t know what it’s like to exist without her. And as long as he has someone to lean on, he never has to find out if he’s truly as incapable as he thinks himself to be. His refusal to let go of her fuels his fear further—the tighter he holds on, the scarier the thought of letting go becomes.

Emira doesn’t know who she is without Edric either, and that’s exactly the reason she wants to break out of that dynamic so desperately. She doesn’t want to be nothing but someone’s twin for the rest of her life. She wants to just be herself, not have all her interests linked to her brother, for people to stop mentioning her only in the same sentence as Edric. She’s had enough of the matching. What Emira really wants is independence—from her brother, and, to a larger extent, her parents and their control.

Edric leaning on her as much as he does makes Emira feel responsible for him, and she struggles to let go of that because she doesn’t want to hurt him—but the tighter he holds on because he believes he needs her, the more overwhelmed Emira feels by her brother and the responsibility she holds for both of them.

Emira loves Edric, but she’s his sister, and can’t provide him with emotional support 24/7. Spending all day handling someone else’s issues can be pretty draining, especially when you struggle to share the ones you yourself have.

With Emira’s longing for independence comes a refusal to lean on anyone, especially on Edric, because she can’t at the same time let herself be vulnerable and need his support while also wanting to break out of their current dynamic. So Emira doesn’t talk about her issues, she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t lean on anyone. Emira is independent and strong and she doesn’t need anyone, especially not Edric.

It likely started out as them leaning on each other, but where Edric started to become too dependent on Emira always being there, Emira started growing increasingly overwhelmed and pulling back, catching them in a vicious circle of him trying to hold on tighter in order not to lose her, which causes her to draw back further.

To be clear:

a) Emira is not a terrible person for wanting to be away from Edric. What she said hurt him and came across as callous, but what he said harmed her too, even if the “why” that I just explained isn’t as blatantly obvious in the show. Edric isn’t a terrible person for relying on Emira so much, either. Neither of them are inherently malicious in any way, even if they do hurt each other. That they have to deal with these issues in the first place is rooted in the abuse they experienced, specifically in their parents treating them as a two-part set rather than two separate people their whole life.

b) I think it should be clear now why Edric’s behavior is toxic, but I want to address that Emira’s behavior is also an issue. While her desire for independence in itself is normal and healthy, she’s striving for a toxic kind of independence where she doesn’t need anyone anymore, which wouldn’t be good for her either.

Everyone needs to rely on other people sometimes, and if she doesn’t allow herself to, it’s going to cause some serious damaged in the long run. The most reliable relationship she had, the only support system she has, falls victim to her desire to be away from Edric… and only after she is she’s going to realize just how much she needed him, needed anyone to be there, too.

I think it’s very interesting that Edric’s and Emira’s issues are essentially inverted—they have the same root, but their problems are the exact opposite.

Edric is Emira’s mirror image.

This is also shown visually. With the matching clothes and identical dominant features (eye and hair color), they look extremely similar. Their beauty marks are what makes them into a mirror image rather than just looking identical, because they’re on opposite sides of their face. Emira’s is on her right cheek, Edric’s on his left. If they face each other, the marks mirror each other perfectly.

They had the same thing in the concept art I’ve seen of them too, but it was with identical earrings on opposite sides rather than beauty marks.

Caged Freedom

I couldn’t find a way to somehow smoothly fit this into the overlaying topic, but it’s an important part of the reason for their communication issues I go into below, and also just something that I wanted to go into, so take it or leave it.

The twins appear extremely confident, seem like they always get what they want (Amity even resents them for “getting away with everything”), but they really, really doesn’t. Sneaking out of school is the only way they can have the slightest bit of normalcy and freedom and control over their life, and Edric and Emira cannot be caught or it will come back to bite them—the reason they wanted to punish Amity in the first place is that she told on them for skipping, getting them in trouble.

Even within their “rebellion” against their parents, there’s a set system Emira and Edric have to operate within—matching clothes, perfect scores, not doing anything that could get back to their parents or harm the family reputation. Despite skipping school, they both maintain excellent grades. It’s said in Adventures in the Elements, Amity is even trying to beat their best score on an exam.

It’s a careful, calculated kind of resistance, not one that includes them openly opposing their parents. They do things their parents wouldn’t like, they tread lines, but they’re being smart about it, in hopes it will never get back to their parents. Even their limited freedom is caged in that way.

Despite seeming as confident as they do, they’re too scared to talk back to their parents. They cause exactly the kind of trouble that they know is possible to get away with without putting themselves in harm’s way. Going further, openly calling their parents out for how they’re being treated, would be dangerous, and so they don’t. They operate within the system and follow it as much as they have to in order to be able to push the boundaries even slightly.

Their endless confidence, their apparent fearlessness, is just another illusion of theirs.

They wouldn’t need to get back at Amity for telling on them if their behavior was just a huge “fuck you” to their parents. But they do, because their parents aren’t supposed to know. They’re scared, even if they’d never admit that.

Emira and Edric target Amity as a way to cope with the treatment they receive from their parents, which they to an extent blame on Amity (I’ve gone over this more in-depth in the toxic behaviors post I linked above).

Hurting Amity in hopes she won’t tell on them again seems safe in a way that actively calling out their parents behavior could never be.

Lack of Communication

Edric and Emira both have trouble communicating their feelings in a healthy way, and instead of open communication and talking things through they revert to backhand comments and punishment.

They grown up believing that severe punishments are necessary, “tough love” used to help someone improve as shown (and literally quoted) in Lost In Language in regards to Amity. That’s also something I go into my other Blight sibs post.

Regarding the backhand comments, let’s look at their worst fears in Enchanting Grom Fright again. As explained above, Emira’s “being stuck with you forever”-fear is a shitty attempt at trying to get across that she’s unhappy with never getting to be apart from Edric to just be herself. Edric’s “being alone forever” brings up a huge fear of his, especially of being abandoned by Em, which, regarding her worst fear, is justified.

Both of these fears are extremely understandable, and they don’t necessarily have to be at odds with each other—Emira just wants to not feel overwhelmed by Edric, and figure out who she is, and she doesn’t have to completely abandon him to achieve that, even if it’s something she might think she wants now. Edric has to find a way to be able to rely on himself more because Emira can’t always be around him, but he can still maintain a close, positive relationship with her, and would absolutely be able to make other friends that could support him.

What them voicing these fears is, for both of them, is a desperate cry for help, for change. Edric wouldn’t be bringing this up if there wasn’t a part of him that desperately wants to talk to Emira about this, and in the same way Emira wouldn’t have said her fear if she wouldn’t want it too. But the issue is that the twins don’t actually communicate. They put these huge things out there, validating the other’s worst fear with what they say. And then they don’t talk it out. These sentences just hang in the air between them, and then they move on like nothing happened, both anxious and hurt.

And this is because the Blight family in general doesn’t communicate. As mentioned before, the twins don’t dare to talk back to their parents, they do things behind their backs and hope they won’t get caught. They don’t communicate with Amity, and despite Edric and Emira being the closest person the other has, they don’t really communicate the issues in their relationship with each other either, because they don’t know how. This is not a skill they were ever taught, because talking things through like that requires them to be extremely vulnerable. To acknowledge what their worst fears are and why, that they might have gone too far or might have been wrong about some of the things they said, and therefore admit to not being perfect.

But Blights are required to be perfect, and Blights aren’t wrong—if others don’t see things your way, you make them. If others don’t act the way you want them to, you punish them. Tough love to help them grow and “encourage” them to make the “right” decision.

There’s no room for open communication in an environment that sees vulnerability as a shortcoming, and admitting mistakes as a weakness. If neither party is willing to take the first step, communication withers and dies, and the issues go ignored as they grow. Admitting there’s an issue in the first place, and that it might partially be your fault, is considered backing down. And Blights don’t back down. They can’t.

If you back down in business, let others convince you into a bad contact, you’ll never be successful. Worst case: it might be the end. And so you don’t back down. You never do. Blights don’t lose an argument. The other person has to break and back down first.

But that can’t work when both people involved were raised with that mindset. So Emira doesn’t make the first step, and neither does Edric, and aside from their backhand comments that never lead anywhere, they just suffer silently as their relationship disintegrates without as much as their acknowledgement of it.

For Edric, there’s also the issue that bringing up his fear might possibly drive Emira further away, knowing her fear. He doesn’t want to make her angry, and doesn’t want to fight with her, because it might lead to him losing her, which is exactly what he so desperately wants to prevent.

I can’t remember which post brought it up, but one post I read a while back also addresses how despite admitting that her behavior was wrong, we never hear Amity say “sorry” to Willow. Because if there’s one thing the Blight family does even less than admitting mistakes in the first place, it’s apologizing for them. Open communication is weak. Apologizing is weaker.

In summary: There needs to be a balance between depending on yourself and still being able to ask others for support when you need it, and Emira and Edric are currently sitting on opposite ends of the same issue. Both of them need to move more towards the middle. What one of them so desperately wants is what the other needs to recognize.

Emira realizes that she needs space from Edric, and because Edric doesn’t recognize it, he’s the one that needs space from Emira more. He desperately needs to realize that clinging to each other the way they currently are isn’t healthy.

Edric realizes that he needs support from other people, and that’s something Emira denies for herself that she really needs to realize.

They both have half of the solution to their shared problem, but their difficulties communicating the issues within their relationship properly prevent them from finding a healthy solution together.

For everyone that’s incredibly sad now (myself included): I cover these topics in several of my fics.

Most prominently, Locked Out, where I’m currently beginning to explore the Blight twins and their different mindsets further.

Most recently, Sleight of Hand, a collab fic I did with my friend @lexa-alycia, where, among other things, the twins have a long overdue conversation regarding the things said in Enchanting Grom Fright.

But also 6/8 of my currently posted Owl House fics (not counting another additional two that also do and are done but haven’t been posted yet) give focus to at least one of the Blight twins if not both, so yeah I have plenty of twins content on my profile for anyone that wants XD

Next up, probably (because I just do not want to be done with this apparently): a post regarding Vinem and Jerbric and why these relationships would work and be extremely beneficial for everyone involved.

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euphoniouspandemonium · 2 years

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Now I'm quite curious about Leslie, Percy, and Florence (yes I do know more about Percy than I do about Leslie and Florence, but there's no such thing as "knowing too much about Percy")

Oh yes. Ohohoho yes. Thank you for asking and you are so right, there's no such thing as knowing too much about Percy, like I still feel like I don't know enough about Percy and I'm the author who has three (3) WIPs with him in it, one of which is almost a sort of biography, and is incapable of thinking about anything else.

Okay okay so! Leslie first, because I am currently having a lot of brainrot:

Leslie is a character in Clarity Is Blood On A Murder Weapon and I want to hit them with a brick. Affectionately. They suck but it's okay because I love them and I think they're hot.

Also they are my pronouns buddy (they use they/he/she as well, though I'll be using they/them for this ramble for the sake of clarity) <3

The rest is under the cut!

You see, they were raised in a very "queer people gross only Feminine Woman In Kitchen and Manly Macho Man Dude Bro" because it was mid 20th century America so what can you expect. That was, of course, a problem, cause they're nonbinary and bisexual. So of course they left once they turned like 19. Also they have a younger sister - Roq - who got kicked out for being gay like a year later (when she was 17 oop) but that's another story. They did take her in, of course.

After they left, they met Kevin and Stephen and then a while later Roq started living with Leslie so The Friend Group was created. Stephen in the early days of their friendship was recovering from Very Bad Terrible trauma and later on a few other peeps were abducted into this friendship, but that is probably a story for another day.

Anyways! That's enough for their backstory! Tis time for... *drumroll* ... their personality! And such!

As I said, they suck (affectionate). They're a selfish dumbass honestly, and they just kinda act like they don't give a fuck about anyone's feelings but they absolutely do and they want the people they care about (*cough* their friends and their little sister and their boyfriend *cough*) to be safe and well and happy. But most importantly they always wear heart shaped sunglasses and of course in the scene where they are most vulnerable they are not in fact wearing said sunglasses. In fact they are broken. Do with that what you will.

But other than being a fool and an asshole they are an absolute darling of a person. They get so so hype every time their friends or partners get happy, ESPECIALLY if they're the one that made them happy. They are obsessed with everything heart-shaped. They know all of their friends' favourite songs. They're still a piece of shit but. A darling piece of shit <3

Also they fuck around with gender A Lot <3 because they can <3 and honestly they are really fucking gender in literally anything, ranging from dresses to shirts with giant sleeves to ridiculous pattern combos, like oh lord the gender envy. Also did I mention they're hot. And pretty. Actually I have a drawing of them, if you'd like to see.

And now! Florence!:

She's from the Earl/Edith WIP and honestly she could kill me and I'd thank her. I haven't developed her much yet, but all you need to know is that she says "Well, well, well. I have found a pretty little thief in my room" at one point. She has a really ethereal vibe and it seems like she draws moths and butterflies towards her~ and Edith is but a foolish little moth~ oh and I am implying some romantic emotions between Florence and Edith cause like. She was literally in a polycule with Edith and their husband Jonathan but then Something Happened. Don't even ask me what the something is because I don't know either. Also Florence is the antagonist's sister. Oh oh and she has two borzoi dogs, Frankie and Lola <3

And since I have talked about Percy A Lot I will make this a lil list of fun facts:

- named himself after Percy Shelley

- has watched Different From The Others - aka what is probably the first pro-gay film ever - in a cinema in Berlin in 1919. Makes me wish I was him.

- knows oh so many languages

- loves warm milk. It makes him feel very safe and comfy

- he falls asleep EVERYWHERE including but not limited to sofas, chairs, the ground, Oscar's lap, beds, tables, meadows, trains etc, and if you try to move him he just makes sad pathetic little noises and continues sleeping.

- has a birthmark near his nose

- he never lives in one place for too long but he always leaves something that will forever puzzle and haunt the person who's gonna live there next. Small boxes filled with weird old objects, like vintage pictures, teeth, children's toys. He can in fact be a bit of an odd boy sometimes. I would sell my soul to find such a box by the way.

#asks #percy #leslie #florence #this is very long. something about how i apologize for what you have unleashed.

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annikasevenshots · 2 years

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For the writing ask. 1 - 40 😜

ಠ_ಠ; (affectionate) (full questions here!)

Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

My longest published fic to date, In The Name of Love. I started it when I was younger and my writing style has changed so much that it’s so hard to tack on a new chapter and continue writing it. Also, there’s been so much development in Disco characters since I first started it that there are some things I would change completely.

Anything that you'd like to write but feel like you're unable to?

If I could write smut, I’d be a self-sustaining system. Unfortunately, I’m too shy to be able to do it without looking away every 2 seconds. (yay repression and compulsory modesty!)

I’d also love to do some angst or hurt/comfort on Raffi and Seven’s journey with loss, especially after Elnor, but it hits very close to home to me right now so I am physically incapable of writing it. Which is frustrating, but eh.

How would you describe your writing style?

I had a huge Tolkien phase over quarantine, so a lot of my writing uses very flowery, romantic, scenic description. I try to match the tone of the media of whatever story I’m telling, so for my Tolkien fics, it has a children’s storybook vibe and maybe some archaic language as well, whereas for my Trek fics, I keep it more modern and almost snappy, per se.

Do you have any OCs? Do you have a story for them?

Nope! I work with what already exists.

What's a tag you never want to use for your works even when it applies?

To be honest, if it applies, I’m slapping it on there. If it helps people find my work, I’m not complaining.

What's your ratio for rating your works?

I feel bad for saying that I do have a ratio because it’s completely arbitrary, but... 1:10, kudos to views.

Your favourite ao3 tag.

Hurt/Comfort. ‘nuff said.

How slow is a slow burn?

I’ve had IRL friends who slow burn so slow that the oven isn’t even on, so. If they make it through 2 full-volume 300k fics and haven’t openly hinted their affection to one another, yeah, that’s kinda slow.

Thoughts on cliffhangers.

As a rule I generally don’t do cliffhangers as a writer unless I have the next chapter planned and/or ready to go, just so I wouldn’t end anything on one. I don’t like them that much, but I do use them now and then for the drama.

On the topic of cliffhangers... the rest of the questions are under the break!

Top three favourite fic tropes.

Oh, oh oh! Taking care of one another when they’re injured/unwell. (Bonus points if they catch it from one another.) Putting jackets on one another when they’re asleep/cold. Black tie/gala scenarios. (Evidently.)

Three tropes that are fine but overrated.

Enemies to Lovers, tbh. coffee shop/tattoo artist AUs. Soulmates. (sorry)

If you write in more than one language, what's the difference?

Chinese says a lot more in fewer words, so I would say between my lack of fluency in Chinese and the style itself, my writing style is more curt. (Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, since my English sentences could span on and on.)

Rate your worldbuilding skills from 1 to 10.

I’d say about 7 or 8. I definitely try to have an outline of what happens outside of the fic, where they’ve come from, where they’re going to, what the setting looks like, what emotions they’re bringing into the scene. (Believe me, there’s lots of chaotic sketches in my book because I can’t draw it properly.) I’d say part of it comes from my training in theatre where you absolutely need to build a solid world for behind what happens onstage.

Write and share the first sentence of a new fic. Just that.

“Not everyone had the punctuality of a high-ranking Starfleet officer.“

What's your favourite plotless fic you have written?

A Late Night Snack, which was my first Seven x Raffi fic, actually! It’s just the two of them sharing lollipops. Something about my writing style in that fic hits really right with me still to this day, so *gives past me a pat on the back*.

Are one-shots really underrated?

I almost exclusively write one-shots, so no, they’re not! They’re great for workshopping a certain scene or moment that exists outside of a continuous canon. For me, it’s almost like painting a picture with words - one moment that exists within a canvas of a one-shot.

Past or present tense? Why?

In my past, I was a past tense girl, but I’m presently inclined towards present tense (sorry). Present tense makes a scene so much more intimate because it feels like it’s unfolding right before your eyes and it makes the characters’ choices their own, not something you’re recounting for them.

First, second, or third person?

Third person all the way. (Sorry.)

Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

““You and Seven can take the eggs or whatever,” Raffi said, turning back to Agnes. “I’ll just use my hands. They exist for a reason, you know.””

Do you work on a single project or many at the same time? How does that work for you?

I think I write one fic at a time, maybe two at most, but I definitely have more ideas swirling around in my head like alphabet soup until it’s time for me to spoon it out and work with it. Fun fac

Can you accurately predict how long your fics are going to be? If you can, what's your secret?

For my one-shots, it’s been ~2500-3500 words for a good while now, so that’s my prediction, per se. I roughly aim for a chapter length, but mostly I try to write what needs saying and call it a day.

What is it about watching the same two idiots falling in love over and over again?

It’s like looking at old photographs of people who were very, very in love and retracing all the steps they’ve been through to get to where they are today.

Dialogue or description? Why is the other one so hard?

For someone who writes a lot of description, I actually prefer dialogue. Dialogue basically writes itself when you know the characters, whereas description takes a lot of Thought and Brain Cells, which I don’t have. Once again, I may have to attribute this to me reading more scripts than books in my life.

Thoughts on flashbacks/flashforwards.

I don’t mind fics having scattered timelines and back-and-forth between the past and present as long as they’re in separate, contained scenes/chapters, but I don’t like explicitly flashing a character back in the middle of a scene when they’re in the present (or vice versa).

Is writing the whole thing beforehand better or worse than writing it as you go?

I usually have a good overarching outline/plan before I jump into a full-length fic, then I deviate if I want to. I would definitely not like writing something as I go, because I tend to go off on a lot of random tangents or cling onto plot points I’ve randomly discovered that makes the ending so far removed from what I actually started out with.

What would you describe as OOC?

anything that doesn’t fit in with my hyperspecific interpretation of one character

No, kidding. Probably when actions or dialogue happens that I feel like would not come from the character according to how I understand them. How I understand a character is usually a mix of canon, my personal headcanons, and what I like from other peoples’ headcanons.

Do you agree that one shouldn't start a story with a piece of dialogue?

For me, writing is less about following the rules and more about finding something that sits right with your story, your flow, and your style. If it’s effective for you and for your audience, there’s no problem with starting your story with dialogue, or starting your sentences with “and”, or whatever.

Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

I write my first drafts in a notebook. And when I say drafts, I mean drafts – barely-formed sentence structures, tons of *insert x here*. The need to type up my fic from pen and paper forces me to edit it at least once.

What's the hardest thing about writing?

Finding the vision/inspiration. I go through so many periods of drought when the media I follow doesn’t have new content/if I’m off tumblr because I don’t have anything to interact with. I’m almost like a parasite in terms of creativity – if you put me in a void, I probably can’t come up with something alone.

Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't.

I had a Bagginshield mistaken identity fic – basically, Character A pours out their feelings about Character B to someone they thought was Character C, only for them to reveal themselves as Character B. I have it written, I just never published it.

What was the most difficult fic for you to write (but in the end you made it)?

Recently, probably I Hate Your Heroic Love, because there were so many different ways to capture the idea I had in my head (and I had many, many iterations that spun into completely different directions).

Do you have a word/expression that you always use in your writing?

If I’m writing Saffi, you know there’s going to be strawberries.

Give your writing a compliment.

no.

Do you write to improve? Or is that not a concern for you?

I try to write the fics that I want to read, that’s it. For me, writing is less of a motor skill that you can improve by doing it over and over again, so I don’t write for the sake of improving, per se.

Thoughts on writing challenges/contests.

Wish I could do one, but every time I come across one of those blogs or posts the deadline as long gone.

How do you come up with fic titles? What's the one you're most proud of?

Honestly? Pure vibes. I look at the fic and it usually gives itself a name for me. I don’t have any I’m super proud of, but the two that really tells the story for me are Black, Silver, Grey (Bagginshield) and Sunsets and Strawberries (Saffi).

Do you research before writing or while you write? Is it fun or boring for you?

While I write, and I do minimal research, to be honest – I usually Google an answer for a question I have. It’s not totally boring but it’s not super fun, I get what I need and then I move on.

"This never happened" fix-it fics or "this happened but" fix-it fics?

“This never happened” if it’s a death, because I’m not a big fan of resurrection/necromancy. For the rest, “this happened but”, because I like exploring how people work through problems instead of avoiding them. (sorry, i’ll save the rest for therapy.)

Wildest AU scenario you have written?

I wrote that the elf colony in Ithilien was primarily a gay community. That was a time.

Write a 9-word fic.

“Why do we always have meatloaf after a funeral?”

Whew, that was a lot of introspection and a long trip down memory lane. Thank you so much @thelastuncharteddawn for sending in this ask! <3

#this post do be a CHONKY BOY #writing #tolkien #lotr #the hobbit #star trek #star trek discovery #star trek picard #fanfic #gigolas #bagginshield #milippa #saffi #ask #mine

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edwardelricsrightarm · 3 years

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"A lesson without pain is meaningless. For you cannot gain anything without sacrificing something else in return, but once you have overcome it and made it your own...you will gain an irreplaceable fullmetal heart." - Edward Elric

In honor of disability month and the FMA 20 year anniversary I wanted to address some Thoughts™️ about the series.

It's not often you see a disabled protagonist in media where their disability is integral to the story without taking up their entire character, even more so with anime. Yet, Fullmetal Alchemist has not just one disabled Protagonist, but two. The Elric Brothers are an exemplary representation of disability in media that I find myself reflecting on often as a disabled person myself. If you haven't completed the manga or Brotherhood, skip this as it will be brimming with spoilers.

(Mangahood will be my point of reference because while 03 is good on its own merits it's not as fresh within my immediate memory, and I am far less familiar with it. Keep this in mind, I've watched FMAB 10 and a half times whereas I've finished 03 only once years ago.)

The story highlights their disabilities immediately, Edward being a double amputee and Alphonse being without his ENTIRE body, only having the senses of proprioception, sight, and hearing left. Yet, despite this being key to the story and an integral part of their characterization, it is only one facet of their motivations and doesn't take center in the narrative, which is refreshing. It's not inherently negative to make a narrative centered on the characters' disabilities, but often this model of a story goes very wrong very fast and starts to feel hollow (no pun intended). FMA avoids this by making their disabilities a clear part of the plot and their motivations without allowing it to consume the entire story, so the Elric Brothers don't suffer the "my disability is all of my character" problem that many disabled characters are relegated to in a vast portion of media, all while being strong and competent.

Recap:

The brothers wished to revive their mother, but their good intentions cannot change the atrocity of their mistake, Truth makes this abundantly clear from the start. Edward loses his leg first, a punishment for "stepping" into God's shoes and transgressing the place of humans in their world. Alphonse loses his entire body, unable to feel any warmth or simple comforts like food and rest, when all he wanted was to feel the warmth and comfort of his mother's embrace again. At first, Alphonse's entire being is consumed by the gate, but Edward acts immediately, refusing to lose his little brother and refusing to allow his arrogance in this plan to cause his brother's death for only following his lead. Edward gives his right arm to have the gate give back Alphonse's soul, and stated clearly in his panic that he'd give his entire self to save Alphonse if that's what it would take, but Truth took his dominant arm only, showing something akin to mercy, although the character of Truth is capriciously strict and hard to describe as "merciful".

Through giving up his right arm, Edward regains his Right Hand Man, his little brother and best friend. His only remaining family, who he feels responsible for protecting in the absence of their parents. He felt immediately that he'd made a grave mistake, instantly full of regret as he realized the gate had taken his brother. In that moment he was willing to give anything to take it back and undo the suffering his arrogance caused his brother, yet Alphonse was still to suffer more to come. Ed tied Alphonse's disembodied soul to one of Hohenheim's collected suits of armor, managing to at least keep his brother alive in some way. One could say that Alphonse's punishment functioned as a secondary punishment for Edward, showing him how easily his hubris could have cost him what he has left in his obsession with regaining what they'd lost, their mother. A very clear symbolic reminder of the weight of his actions and how he'd misled his brother in his own naive ignorance. Even in giving another limb away to drag his brother's soul back out of the gate, he couldn't offer enough to bring him back intact. Thus is the law of equivalent exchange.

Now that we've reviewed some of that basic symbolism and the motifs the story draws upon with limbs and body parts in relation to characters, let's move on to each individual brother and break it down, shall we?

Edward Elric is a very realistic protagonist, this is one thing a majority of us familiar with this series can agree upon. He feels like a believable teen boy, with layers of complexity to his character while also showing arrogance and immaturity that is unsurprising at his age. He expresses unwillingness to kill and avoidance of unjust violence from the beginning, and has a strong moral code after the ordeal of committing the taboo.

In some characters his cocky personality would typically become grating, yet the story explains in itself why he is this way, then builds upon this to develop him into an incredibly mature character who is willing to admit when he's absolutely wrong and adapts to new information and context for the crisis unfolding around him as it comes, even if he remains crass. This arrogance is shown from the start to be a manifestation of insecurity, self loathing, and repressed guilt. Edward is a logic driven person, he has a very unique thought process, which is where my interpretation of him as autistic comes in. Edward's awkward social demeanor, somewhat abrasive and cold approach to some, and his trouble coping with nonsensical societal structures all stand out in this way. Furthermore he clearly shows hyperfixation, hyperactivity, special interest, and infodumping behaviors that are all too familiar. He's picky with food (*cough* the milk thing), has very little filter and speaks his mind bluntly even if this can warrant conflicting responses, yet at the same time struggles with vulnerable emotions, and he is frustrated when his own routine or itinerary are interrupted by forces beyond his control. All of these things Scream autism with comorbid ADHD. Many traits are shared between the brothers, and I'm quite certain they're both on the autism spectrum based on behavioral patterns. Neurodivergence aside, Edward's physical disabilities are undeniable.

Despite his bratty persona, Edward is fundamentally kind and uncharacteristically gentle and soft around the edges for a shonen protagonist in many ways. He cries openly on many occasions even if he struggles talking about his trauma and burdens in words at times, he feels pain, grief, and compassion so intensely it throws him into action on a regular basis in the narrative. In this way he's also a fantastic example of non-toxic masculinity (though in other ways he has displayed more toxic traits, he's just a kid). He acts on his heart, even if he's led by his mind and logic in most things. His humanity, value for life, and care for others will always win over his logic, and he shows a sense of personal responsibility for doing the right thing even if it harms him in the process. Ed is clearly shown having ghost pains in his lost limbs which is honestly an interesting detail to include, I don't think I've ever seen that aspect of amputation shown in media aside from FMA. It's also shown that when Ed's automail arm breaks this is a HUGE problem for him, but he's also shown to be very good at working around this in difficult circumstances. He doesn't become completely helpless, even if majorly weakened.

Alphonse is an extremely lovable and compassionate boy, brimming with altruism and care for others. Even in his noncorporeal state he pursues a better future and he's not helpless by any stretch. Edward clearly states Alphonse is the superior fighter for example, and it's not just because of his armor body being so large. He's *talented*, that's a fact. Al is every bit as clever and capable as Ed, moreso in some ways, and I love that about his character *because* he's so clearly disabled. He has no sense of pain, he is completely incapable of sleeping, he can't eat, can't relax or find comfort, he can only exist and think. This causes him to overthink in all his time alone, this is debilitating. He clearly is absolutely sick of the loneliness this causes, and he often feels helpless though he's not. He has doubts and fears that consume him in relation to his armor body, he questions his own personhood, even. Yet, Edward is stubborn and staunch in affirming that no matter what he's dealing with, he is fundamentally still a human being that is loved and irreplaceable. Alphonse is powerful and his body gives him some advantages, but it also sets him back, and the brothers know this even when others claim Alphonse's state is somehow a good thing. I have hEDS, a disability that comes with advantages as well as the major downsides, so I can understand and relate to Alphonse here. I too am told my disability is a boon because of flexibility and because I'm less likely to fracture bones, but I'm twice as likely to injure my ligaments and joints, which people ignore.

The brothers are both disabled, both flawed, both show weaknesses, but they are competent, determined, and strong in their own right. They are rounded characters that exist for more than to be pitied or condescended to by able bodied characters around them. They put their entire being in everything that they do no matter what that is, and they don't know the meaning of giving up. These traits that they're made of truly make them a shining example of disability in protagonists for others to look to for reference when writing their own disabled characters.

Even though by the end Edward has regained one limb and Al has regained his body, this also doesn't just deus ex machina reverse their disability or make it go away. It's clear that Alphonse's body is weak and has to be rehabilitated upon recovery, and Edward is still missing his leg and bears the scars and pieces of the port from his automail arm. They weren't suddenly made able bodied upon recovering these things, they reclaimed what was lost through struggle and grit, but the narrative didn't give the impression that their disability in itself was something to be fixed, which is important. They wanted to recover their bodies, but this doesn't erase the effects of their disability.

It was about Edward atoning for leading Alphonse into their mistake and saving his brother from suffering further, it was about them proving they can keep moving forward no matter what, not about getting rid of their disability in itself or putting themselves down because of the disabilities. This, to me, as a mentally and physically disabled viewer, is so important. They achieve their goal, but this doesn't in any way erase or undo the effects of their initial losses, they find ways to adapt and move on but they're still affected and still disabled. They always will be. That can be so important to see in comfort characters, and as a disabled individual who's had both brothers as comfort characters since I was a child, their impact on my own journey is surprisingly tangible for fiction.

#fmab #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma #edward elric #alphonse elric #elric brothers #character analysis #disability month #disability positivity #disabled #fma 20th anniversary

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Hallucination

Prompts: i love your fics insanity and real or not real!! can i request another fic where a side is struggling to tell what's real and what's a hallucination? can be in the same like universe (carrying on with one of the stories) or a completely different universe/person, idm - anon

*crashes into ur asks*

Hey if you’re still taking requests could you do just Janus comforting someone on the verge of a meltdown? Like lots of soft words and caring Janus? He’s my comfort character and I love him - anon

Thanks for the prompt!

Read on Ao3 Part 1 (ish)

Warnings: talk of hallucinations, uncertainty

Pairings: focus on creativitwins, intrulogical, dukeceit, background LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic, you decide

Word Count: 3864

Sometimes Thomas watches things and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

Sometimes Thomas decides to watch something late at night, when it’s dark outside, even though Virgil tells him it’s a bad idea, and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

Sometimes when Virgil has gone to his room and he’s fine, but Thomas’s mind can’t stop playing it over and over and over and over, he starts to expand on it and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

He can’t remember the name of the video. Something to do with being stuck on a misty island in the middle of nowhere with a monster and villagers that wait to sacrifice tourists to the monster to sate its hunger. Something about a daring rescue or an escape plan doomed to fail.

Something like…

“Do not go outside. Do not turn on the lights. Don’t make sounds.” The old man draws the curtains sharply across the window. “And whatever you do, do not look out the window.”

It’s late now. Patton’s asleep. Virgil’s in his room, probably asleep. The rest of them are still awake in the Imagination. It’s slumber party night for the twins, having created a big sprawling mansion in the Imagination for them to run around in. Logan is here, Janus is here, Roman is here.

Villagers?

They’re talking about what Thomas watched.

Logan straightens his legs out. “It’s not a bad practice, staying quiet.”

Janus rolls his eyes. “Come on, what is this, some haunted island?”

“You saw the people in the video.” Logan rests his weight on his elbows. “Something was amiss.”

“The only thing amiss was how awfully boring you lot are being.” Janus sighs and stands, stretching. “Well, I think a night of entertainment sounds wonderful.”

“The old man said to be quiet,” Roman points out. Wait, is the old man real?

“Do you know how prone to flights of fancy old people are?” Janus smiles. “Incredibly.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh don’t start that.” Janus rolls his eyes and his gaze lands on Remus. A smirk crawls across his face. “Well,” he drawls, sauntering across the room, “someone’s being awfully quiet.”

Remus just shrugs. Janus crouches down.

“What do you think about this monster,” he asks, tapping his fingers on his chin, “about the thing that sneaks around this island, peering into windows, through the keyholes of locked doors?”

“Janus,” Logan warns.

“What? I just want to hear what our other little scientist thinks about this.” He raises his eyebrows when Remus won’t hold his gaze. “No? Nothing? Need more data? Well, I’m sure you could ask around if you wanted to.”

“We’re not supposed to leave,” he says softly.

“I know you’re a goody-two-shoes, Remus, but you’ll never get anything done that way.”

“Leave him alone, Janus,” Roman says with a wink, “he’s just mad at how pathetic the monster design was.”

Long limbs. Dark eyes. Moved like shadow.

“And the Boy Scout, coming to the rescue.” Janus rolls his eyes as he stands. “Aren’t you tired of being so boring?”

Roman holds his hands up. “Hey, I’m all for exploring!”

Janus sighs. “Ever the dashing prince, are we?”

“Ask nicely and I may sweep you off your feet too.”

The banter continues. Logan just sighs and pulls out a journal, the pen emerging from god-knows-where as he writes. Remus swallows and glances toward the window.

In. Out. In. Out.

Roman and Janus are still tossing barbs and jests back and forth. Remus cannot help but notice how loud they are being.

The old man said to be quiet.

Logan looks up when he begins to crouch down and shuffle behind the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Changing.” He gives a half-hearted smile. “Texture spoons ran out.”

He nods and goes back to his writing. Remus glances at the nightstand. Only 8:00. The conversation gets progressively louder. Logan joins in eventually, rolling his eyes at Roman’s increasingly elaborate proposals to bring in jukeboxes, disco lights, and speakers.

“Let’s think about this logically. If the ghosts or whatever the hell the monster is sensitive to sound, why not pump everything to like, 300 decibels and blast their eardrums out?”

“Or it could be that they just hear things like we hear things,” Logan remarks.

“Mm.”

“Why do I have to be quiet?” Roman spreads his arms. “I should not have to deal with that!”

“Actually, you know what,” Janus says gleefully, “I agree. We shouldn’t have to be quiet. If this place doesn’t have adequate monster protection, that’s on them.”

This place…didn’t they make it safe? Roman said they made it safe. Is it not safe anymore? Are the shadows—is the monster here?

“Always the entitlement,” Logan sighs, seemingly resigning himself to the voice of reason as he settles his journal to the side, “assuming that everyone should cater to your needs.”

“Oh come on, Logan. You have to admit that having a hotel that isn’t secure makes little to no sense.”

Hotel? Isn’t this still the mansion?

The low buzz of an LED sign comes from outside. Remus blinks. Has…has that always been there?

“Not respecting the rules of wherever you choose to go makes little to no sense.”

“That’s gotta hold up in court though.” Roman glances at Janus. “You get me?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Janus says, drawing himself up like a lawyer, “I would like to sue on the grounds that my intestines were devoured horrifically by a terrifying, savage beast that the hotel owners neglected to inform me of. How am I standing here, you ask, if my intestines have been devoured? Simple. Spite.”

Roman’s off, cackling to his heart’s content. Logan bites back his own smile.

“And how, may I ask, is this not the fault of yourself?”

“May I say, Your Honor, that victim-blaming is not cute—“

“Here here,” comes Roman’s voice.

“—and also, the information about aforementioned monster came from someone who was not an employee of the hotel,” Janus finishes grandly, “therefore they can suck my—“

Logan hits his hand against the nightstand, still fighting down laughter. “Defendant is charged with contempt of court.”

“Do not pass go,” Roman chortles as Janus swoons dramatically, “do not collect 200 dollars.”

“Remus,” Janus cries out, “avenge me!”

Remus does not respond. He is too busy trying to figure out when the mansion became the hotel.

“Remus,” Janus cries again, crawling dramatically across the floor, “save me from this indignity.”

“No, thank you,” he mumbles instead.

Janus huffs, pushing himself off the floor. “Then by all means, please tell us your ingenious solution to this monster problem that we find ourselves in.”

Remus looks up, his face carefully blank except for a small smile. “I’m going to hide underneath the sheets,” he says in a soft, small voice, “because everybody knows monsters can’t get you when you’re under your sheets.”

“That is adorable,” Roman chuckles.

Janus’s eyebrows raise slowly until another fiendish smirk crawls across his face. “Are you scared?”

“Yes.”

“Aww,” he coos, “hiding under the sheets to get away from the monsters, how adorable.”

Remus doesn’t respond.

“If only the others could see you now,” Janus crows, “they’d know how intimidating you really are.”

Logan takes his glasses off, polishing them with the handkerchief from his pocket. “As if you’re any better, crying over a torn seam in your cape.”

“That bastard took two weeks to get right!”

Remus ignores them once more, glancing at the clock. 9:45. An acceptable time to try and go to sleep. He moves slowly and quietly as he tries to get into the bed. The monster could be here. The banter continues behind him as he pulls the sheets tight around him.

He does not see Logan glance over. He does not see that Logan frowns and glances at the clock, thinking perhaps Remus is more tired than he appeared, but…still. He does not see Logan look back at the others still talking, they’re probably not going to go to sleep for a long while.

He does not see Logan look over at him as Janus leaves the room, claiming he’s going to go find somewhere more fun to sleep. He does not see Logan frown, looking to see Remus still on his side, huddled under the sheets. He does not see when Logan starts to count.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

He does not see Logan beckon Roman closer.

He does not see Roman frown as he comes closer, sighing at the notebook in Logan’s hands.

“Logan, why the hell can’t you take a break for…” he trails off when he sees Logan’s face. “What?”

“Perhaps I like to keep myself occupied,” Logan says smoothly, even as he nods insistently to the notebook, “even in times where the circumstances might be less than ideal.”

Roman raises an eyebrow. Subtle, Logan.

“You are chronically incapable of taking a break, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Do you know any words other than ‘perhaps?’”

“Perhaps.”

Roman hides a smirk as squints at the text.

I think Remus is actually afraid. Don’t tease. - L

Remus does hear Roman exhale sharply. He does not see him glance up at the bed before he looks back at Logan and nods.

“Well,” he sighs, stretching and yawning exaggeratedly, “on that note, it’s probably a good idea to try and sleep.”

Logan snorts. “And here I thought you were supposed to be an actor.”

He swats at him halfheartedly as he starts getting ready to go to sleep. What that means is just a matter of snapping his fingers to change out of the prince costume. He packs his other clothes away and crosses the room, keeping his footsteps loud but not too loud.

Now that he’s paying attention, he can see how scared poor Remus is. He’s frozen under the sheets, barely moving. As Logan starts talking quietly to himself, he sets his bag down next to Remus’s and sighs, moving around to make a bit more noise.

Remus still doesn’t move.

When he’s made all the noise he can reasonably make, he walks a little closer to the bed and reaches to fix the curtains, unable to stop the soft noise when his shadow falls over the bed.

“Hey, Re,” he whispers, leaning down and brushing the sheet a little further from his face, “it’s just me, it’s just Roman. Can you open your eyes for me?”

It takes him a moment but his eyes do open. He smiles down at him and cups his face for a moment.

“Hey, there, Re,” he murmurs, “can I come join you?”

He barely nods.

“Thank you.” He frowns when he doesn’t move over. “You gonna let me in?”

He can tell by the way his eyes glass over that’s not a good idea unless he can convince him otherwise.

“Come on,” he whispers again, “scoot to the other side for me.” He nudges his shoulder gently. “Logan misses you.”

Loren doesn’t let his mumuring falter but he does reach across the small space between their beds to lightly pat the side closest to him.

Remus moves, as skittish as the new dragon pups, clutching the blanket tightly to his chest, his pillow gripped in his other hand. Roman swiftly takes the warm spot he’s vacated, wincing in sympathy as he shivers on the cold sheets.

“Thank you,” he sighs, making a show of getting comfortable before reaching out for him, smacking his lips together in sleep, “now come here.”

At his quickly stifled questioning noise, he drops the act and opens his arm wide.

“It’s okay, Re,” he whispers, far too quiet for Logan to hear, “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay.”

He stares at him a moment longer before he realizes that shit, he’s not going to be able to move on his own right now.

“Can I come get you, Re?” Roman smiles when he gives him another one of those jerky nods. “Thank you, I’m gonna pull you over to me, okay?”

He takes him into his arms slowly and carefully, wrapping him up in the sheets until just the very tops of their heads poke out. He relaxes just enough so that he can maneuver him to where he likes, but he’s far from the sleepy pile he expected.

“Hey,” he whispers, tucking his hair behind his ear, “you want to stay here with me, Re?”

He blinks sluggishly. Roman bites back a curse and leans down to rub his nose against his.

“Hey, hey, Re, you just focus on me, okay? Stay with me here—“ he tightens his grip— “right here…I’ve got you.”

He frowns when he makes a small little noise that sounds like it could be his name.

“Yeah, Re? You calling for me?”

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He kisses Remus’s forehead.

“Nonverbal,” he whispers, “or just scared? Or both?”

A moment passes.

“Both it is then.” Roman tucks his head under his chin. “Why don’t you go ahead and close your eyes, Re, I’m right here.”

They stay there, wrapped in the blankets, Remus warm and snug up against Roman’s chest. He plays with his hair, one of his legs slung over his to hold him close, working to lull him out of his frozen state. After a while, Logan stands from the other side of the room and pats Roman’s shoulder.

“Your turn, Roman.”

Roman rolls over. “Huh?”

Logan nods his head toward the bathroom. “Shower.”

Roman sighs dramatically and presses another kiss to Remus’s forehead, leaving his brother dazed, blinking up at Logan. Logan watches Roman leave before he turns his gaze downwards. Remus tries to pretend the shiver that goes through him at the way Logan softens his gaze is just the cold.

“Remus,” he calls softly, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Remus, may I join you?”

A pause.

“Tap the bed twice if yes, once if no.”

A pause, then Remus hesitantly reaches out to make two little taps.

“Thank you.”

He slides smoothly into the bed, reaching out to carefully slip an arm under his and pull him off of the sweat-soaked sheets—when did that happen?—and into his arms. Remus moves pliantly, tucking his chin into the space left between his chin and the pillow.

“Hey,” he whispers, gentling his voice as he tucks his head closer to Remus’s, “hey.”

Logan is warm. Is Logan—Logan said it made sense to be quiet. Logan knows. Logan understands. Logan always understands.

“What’s the matter,” Logan calls gently, “can I help?”

Remus swallows. “Monster.”

“Are you afraid of the monster, Remus?”

Remus nods. “Black eyes. Shadow. Kill you and Roman and Janus and then go find Patton and Virgil and Thomas. Bad.”

“The monster isn’t real, Remus,” Logan says softly, running his hand through his hair, “it doesn’t exist.”

Remus shakes his head. “We’re in the hotel on the island. It’s real. Roman left and the monster will kill him.”

“Roman is just in the bathroom,” Logan corrects, moving his head to indicate the running water sound, “he’s alright. We’re not in a hotel, we’re in the mansion you two created.”

“But the LED sign is buzzing outside.”

“Would you like to look and see?”

“No!” Remus wraps his arms tightly around Logan’s waist. “We’re not supposed to look out the window, the old man said not to.”

“The old man isn’t here,” Logan says patiently, “I’m here. I have you. I’ll keep you safe.”

“He said—he—he’s not real?”

“No, Remus, he’s not real.” Logan gives him a gentle squeeze. “This is real. This is real, Remus, I’ve got you.”

“You’re real.”

“I am.”

“You said it’s safe to look out the window?”

“It is.” Logan squeezes again. “Would you like me to show you?”

Remus nods. Logan leans up and pulls back the curtain, peeking outside. There’s no bright red light from the hotel LED sign. Just soft moonlight.

“There’s no sign, Remus,” he murmurs, “you’re not in a hotel.”

Oh.

“The scar,” he blurts, his hand flying to his chest, “from the stab, what if it’s already got us?”

“I don’t have a scar,” Logan says, lying back down and taking Remus’s hand, “here…feel.”

Logan presses his palm to his bare chest, pulling his shirt out of the way so Remus can see. There’s no scar.

“You don’t have one either…may I?”

When he presses his palms against Remus’s chest, there’s no scar.

“We’re…not there?”

“No, Remus, we’re not there,” Logan says gently, “we’re here, in the mansion, safe, there’s no monster.”

The water stops. A moment later and Roman emerges, tossing a towel over his shoulder. He sees the two of them in the bed and pouts.

“You stole my spot!”

“I had Remus to comfort,” Logan says smoothly, waving him over, “though you are welcome to help.”

Roman ruffles Remus’s hair. Remus leans into it.

“Ro, are you real?”

“Yes, of course, I’m real, Re, what…” Roman trails off and his eyes go wide. “Oh, Re, did we—did I push you into hallucination territory? I’m so sorry, yes, we’re real, we’re here, we’re in our mansion, we’re safe, Re.”

“Safe?”

“Yeah, Re,” Roman murmurs, getting in to cuddle his brother properly, “we’re safe.”

“Real?”

“This is real.”

Remus buries his nose in his brother’s real neck and holds him close. Logan stays by his side, stroking his hair and murmuring that Remus is here, they’re real, they’re safe.

After a moment, Remus takes a deep breath and pulls apart.

“You know the rules, Ro-Bro.”

Roman grimaces, his head dropping to rest against Remus’s sternum for a moment before he nods. Logan looks back and forth between the two of them.

“What are the rules?”

“When Remus gets pushed into hallucination territory,” Roman says softly, “he sleeps alone.”

Logan frowns. “But surely it would help to have us reassure you and help ground you?”

“Wouldn’t help for the intrusive thoughts and hallucinations to include you too.”

Logan winces. “I suppose not, but—“

“Lolo we’ve tried,” Remus mumbles, “we—this works. It sucks and I hate it and so does Ro but this is what works.”

“I trust you,” Logan says, squeezing Remus’s hand, “and I trust you to know what works for you.”

“We’re just overprotective.”

“I’ll say.”

Roman gives him one last hug before standing and pulling Logan to his feet. “You know we’ll come as soon as you call.”

Remus nods. “I know.”

The room feels empty when they leave.

The night passes.

During the witching hour, he startles awake.

The sheets are soaked in sweat directly under him. His eyes are wide. His breathing is too controlled.

The monster is not here but the shadows are.

Somewhere in this house, he knows, something is here. He can hear the voice in the movement of the curtains, hear the step in the way the floorboard settles. Hands never meet his tender flesh, a mouth never bites his fragile throat, but something is here.

Step. Step. Step.

The fear clouds his eyes as it drips into his ears. The light flickers. Something brushes a knuckle up and over his cheek. Something pauses outside his doorway.

Through the depths of the fear filling his ears, something knocks.

The chill rips its fingers out of his mouth and smears them over his throat. Something knocks again. There’s something outside. There’s something outside.

“Sweetie,” he calls as he opens the door, “Sweetie?”

Janus steps inside.

“You’re awake,” he says, shutting the door and sitting on the edge of the bed, “it’s quite late.”

“I know,” Remus says as he sits up, wary, “sorry.”

Janus hums, reaching out to idly brush his hair off his forehead. The chill curls and lingers around his fingers, the shadows diving to hide in the lea of him, greedily drinking the fear from Remus. Janus goes to pull his hand away only to notice the prickles on Remus’s skin.

“Are you cold, my dear?” He frowns and lightly dusts his forearm with his fingertips. “You look it.”

Remus shakes his head. Janus raises an eyebrow, pressing his thumb hard against his arm to reveal a white imprint. It takes long seconds for the chill to let blood color the flesh again.

“Let’s not lie,” he murmurs, his gaze flicking back up to catch Remus’s, “shall we, sweetie?”

Janus reaches up to trace the air around the curve of his cheek, one finger lightly tracing his jaw. The electrifying tingle clenches his hands in the sheet. He tilts his head and hums softly.

“What’s keeping you awake, sweetie?”

The chill snarls, refusing to let go of his throat.

“You can speak,” he encourages, lightly knuckling the underside of his chin, “it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head a little.

“None of that, now, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He closes his hand around his. “To be afraid is nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie, you know that.”

The shadows move slowly, wary of him, eager to taste his fear. The chill huddles around it, icing it in place, refusing to let him breathe without reaching its fingers into the pit of his throat.

“Oh, my dear,” Janus murmurs, running his fingers along the side of Remus’s neck, “can I do anything for you?”

He shakes his head quickly. Too quickly.

“Sweetie…”

“You’ll be annoyed.”

“I’m concerned,” Janus corrects gently, “that’s all.”

Remus risks a glance at the shadows.

“And you know, Remus,” he continues, lifting his hand to press a chaste kiss to its back, “taking care of you is never annoying.”

A different type of fear tingles along his fingers as they brush the curve of his jaw. This one reaches deep, deep along his fingers, up his arm, down to the curve of his shoulder, wriggling in between the cold knots to pulse against him. The shadows bloom in the corners of the room, shying away from the light flickering over his face, his shirt, his hand.

Through the mouthful of fear, his tongue wets his lips. “You’ll find it stupid.”

“Never, sweetie.”

“The dark,” blurts shamefully from his mouth, “I’m afraid of the dark.”

“The dark, sweetie? Is this about…”

“I got pushed into hallucination territory earlier.”

Janus makes a noise of sympathy, murmuring an apology for teasing earlier.

“I can’t see anything but the shadows,” Remus whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, “and the noises, and how empty it is because I know it’s not empty.”

“And what helps this go away,” he asks, still cupping his hand, “what makes the shadows leave my sweetie alone?”

“S-stay? Please, with—with me?” Remus’s breath starts to catch again. “Don’t—don’t let them hurt me.”

“Oh, sweetie, of course,” Janus murmurs, “of course I’ll stay.”

The poor thing chokes out a sob. Janus reaches forward to lie him back down when his hand brushes the edge of the sheet. He frowns. Picking the sheet up between two fingers, he winces. He can feel his fingertips rubbing together, it’s barely warm enough.

Remus’s breath still hasn’t caught when he returns with a thick quilt, spreading it over him to banish the last of the chill.

“Hush now,” he soothes, smoothing the corners of the quilt, “hush, sweetie, it’s over, you did so well, shh…”

Janus climbs into bed, pulling the shaking Remus to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly, tightly around the poor thing as he cradles Remus protectively.

“Come here, my sweet,” he whispers, “come here, now, shh, shh, you’re alright now, sweetie, shh, shh…”

His cries soften, gentled into mewls against his chest as he warms him against his skin. The poor thing is still clenched tighter than a fist. He croons, taking his wrist in his hand and pulling him flush against him.

“It’s alright, sweetie, you did so well, it’s gone now, you did it, there you are, here you are, right here, sweetie.”

The poor thing whines.

“Oh, sweet one, shh, shh, shh, my dear, you’re alright…” He makes a noise of sympathy when he doesn’t stop. “What’s the matter, sweetie, tell me, say it, come now…”

He brings his hand up to stroke gently under Remus’s chin.

“Say it, sweetie, tell me what’s troubling you so, let me help, I’m right here, I’m right here.”

“The shadows,” he whimpers, “the shadows, I can—I can hear them, they—they’re everywhere—I—they’re looking at me, they’re touching me, I can—I can feel them—I—“

“I’ve got you, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, pressing a kiss to Remus’s cheek, “I’m right here, nothing can touch you, here—“

He pulls the blankets up and over their heads, creating a little bubble of intimacy in the dark room.

“I’m here, sweetie, it’s just me, I won’t hurt you, you know I won’t. Shh, shh, hush now, sweetie, it’s alright.”

They stay like that for a little longer, Remus sobbing out the rest of the fear as Janus hushes him softly, pulls him close, soothes away the last of the tremors with gentle hands and tender words.

After a while, Remus pulls away.

“…thanks, Jan.”

“I promised,” Janus murmurs, “I promised that I’d do it when you need me to.”

“I know.” Remus sniffles. “I just…wish you didn’t have to.”

“Don’t ever feel bad about needing something,” Janus chides softly, chucking him lightly under the chin, “especially not when you really need it.”

“Already sent Lolo and Ro away for hallucinations, you—“

“They’re fine, sweetie, a little worried, but they came and told me what was happening.” Janus kisses his forehead again. “They’re not angry, they don’t begrudge you needing things, and they’ll be here for you. They always are.”

“I know.”

Exhaustion begins to seep into his eyes. He blinks sluggishly.

“This is real, right?”

Janus gives him a squeeze. “It’s real.”

“Can I sleep now?”

“Oh, of course, sweetie,” he murmurs, leaning back up to rest his head on the pillow next to Remus, “you go right ahead. I’ll be right here. I’ll keep the shadows away.”

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Text

Two Faced | Chapter Ten

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it’s all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared, for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au ??? (at this point idek) angst, fluff, slice of life etc ?? word count :: 4k author note :: haha.... wowww it's been long since i last updated. honestly my physical and mental health have just been horrible... that's about it, i lost a lot of motivation but if you're still reading i am very thankful and i will try to deliver the story well. i tried my best but writing whilst sick is very tiresome :-) tags :: @patience-is-here , @chwlogy , @a--nonymousse , @imkumichan

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Keeping yourself cooped up within Levi's estate and never daring to step a foot outside should have been what you had done. Blackmailing him to keep you confined within the walls of your bedroom would be much better compared to the problem you have to resolve now. Perhaps if you had done so you wouldn't have collided face first into this muddle.

Jean fiddles with the ends of his button up, he doesn't take the chance to glance up at any of his superiors. He's either much too embarrassed or has nothing noteworthy to start off with.

Erwin chooses to call the shots seeing as neither you or the Viscount by your side wish to begin.

"You both understand why we're here. Correct me if I'm wrong?" The Commander looks between you, Jean and your unfortunate excuse of a husband. Suddenly it looks as if the gears and cogs in Jean's brain move without warning.

Offering a demure nod you expect for him to follow in your footsteps and do the same only he stands there looking between you and Levi.

"Wait...The two of you are? A couple?" Stunned isn't the word, Jean's completely flabbergasted.

"If you figured that out this late, I do not understand why Erwin sees you remotely fit for my team." Levi's beyond insulted at the fact he's only just understood the situation.

Jean, now more intimidated than ever before straightens his back and coughs clumsily, "Sorry." He murmurs chestnut eyes making contact with the hardwood floors.

The Commander's laced hands sit atop his desk, elegant fingers moving similar to honey on a spoon. He sighs not out of fatigue but pride. Whatever plan he's come up with has to be decent at the very least, his body language is telling you that much.

"We have a number of possibilities we can choose from. We owe that pleasure to Mr Kirstein here." Erwin offers him an almost cynical smile, you can't help but gulp thinking about how this is essentially your fault. With all the constant training sessions and team building tasks it makes sense for Jean to have completely forgot about your unspoken rule. Solely blaming him is incorrect.

Raising your arm above your head to intervene you make it known that you're aware of Levi shooting you a look of warning by returning it. It's best he knows you don't care for anyone's opinion let alone his.

"Permission to speak Commander?"

Your request is agreed to immediately with the wave of Erwin's hand.

"It's my fault for not reminding Jean. I'll take the blame, I hadn't even told him the full story concerning me and Levi."

Levi doesn't enjoy your defense in the slightest. "I don't expect my wife to fling herself at other men and allow for them to snoop around gathering the details of our personal lives."

Scoffing you shield yourself with your arms over your chest.

"Oh dear husband. If you want to get personal do tell me where my family is?" It's an inside joke only Levi will be able to understand.

"If you call those people family your standards are disgustingly low."

"Maybe that explains why I settled for you."

Again, other's opinions are not at the forefront of your priority list. Regardless it's quite enjoyable pushing Levi further into a corner with that sentence. You see the internal struggle play out within him. Jaw clenched, hands balled together. He doesn't have an appropriate response

Jean bursts out unable to hold it in any longer, chest trembling with every quake of laughter that ripples through him you have to shove him with your elbow. For a Viscount his etiquette sure is nonexistent.

"My word, the two of you sound like..."

Levi stares at him most probably expecting something along the lines of "An old married couple."

But, no. It's nothing anyone in the room expects. That includes you.

"It's as if you're unhappy with each other..."

Not a noise is made after that. Jean isn't mistaken, your heart is miserable. You've never had many relationships to begin with, whether it be familial, romantic or platonic and for someone such as your husband to treat you the way he does - it feels futile having to navigate around the complexities. Even if he isn't really your husband it's disappointing to reflect on your marriage so suddenly.

Feeling your face droop a little you bite your bottom lip with your teeth. Hearing the truth from someone you barely expect to hear it from has an effect on you.

You're so caught up analyzing everything it takes you a minute to even register Levi grumbling and lunging forward pilfering the collar of Jean's shirt.

"Every day you prove to be more and more pathetic than I expect." Levi turns to look at you after that. His stare bores into you but he doesn't come off threatening, you assume his last remark is directed solely at Jean.

When he turns back only glaring at Jean now with even more tenacity than before. He's ready to snap but Erwin has clearly had enough of the unwanted altercation in his office.

"Enough. The both of you. This is most bothersome." At the Commander's orders Levi is silenced although it takes all of his resolve to do so.

Finally bothering you take a good look at Jean. He's calm in an incredibly out of character way.

Is this not the man who trembled in his boots the first time he and Levi came into contact? It's almost as if he seems pleased with himself for drawing out such a reaction from his Captain.

Erwin shuffles through stacks of paperwork on his desk. The man needs an assistant at this point. You doubt you could find anything in that haphazard pile. Edges of crumpled paper poke out uncomfortably and Erwin becomes increasingly annoyed when he can't locate what it is he's looking for.

Just as you're about to ask if he requires any assistance it seems he's found what he's been looking for, that's if his eyes are any indication of the relief he feels.

"This." He holds up the paper, all eyes in the room are trained on it. "Under normal circumstances would not have to become an option."

"But these aren't normal circumstances?" Jean's thoughtless question is irksome when the answer is so obviously staring him down in the face.

Nonetheless Erwin nods incapable of losing his cool over something so minor.

"Sign to confirm to my proposition."

The document he places onto the desk isn't what you imagine, you can practically feel the dread climb up your throat once you're done scanning it. Jean's full name placed right next to yours in bold lettering has your stomach lurching. You don't have to read the rest to understand the new circumstances you've landed into.

To make matters worse Erwin places two rings down right in front of the both of you.

A pot of boiling hot water is what you've been thrown in.

Are you supposed to be some sort of replacement for potatoes? What's Jean in this scenario? Carrots?

"It is troublesome to have the two of you put on an act to be involved with one another but I see it as our safest option." Erwin notices your parted lips and slacked jaw. "You need not worry this isn't a marriage contract, you're simply acting."

There's no path out of this pot, you and Jean will simply have to deal with the prospect of being boiled alive.

Ah, you forgot to mention who would act as the hot water but you're sure the suspect is obvious.

Even right now Levi's fury radiates off of him, it's unclear if he was given the details of the Commander's plan beforehand but if his furrowed brow and pursed lips are indicators of the truth he must have had no idea.

Your suspicions are confirmed to be correct once Levi reaches forward plucking the paper away, it just so happens he's snatched it away the very moment Jean leans in to get a closer look at it.

"I was never informed of this."

Erwin gives him a guarded smile. "Do you have any jurisdiction over what I think is best?" Is his freezing reply.

"Yes. When it concerns my wife and another man - Correction. I meant boy."

Jean's taken aback by the subtle jab and shamefacedly shoves his hands into his pockets.

You watch the scene go down with a perplexed look the entire time. Levi's frustration seems to be legitimate yet he has no logical reason for it to ever be present in the first place. Unless he has a plan which outperforms the one you've just been given he's doing this all for nothing.

"I assure you your wife is in safe hands so long as you stop interfering."

Levi's about to bark back until he catches your confusion. He's become aware of your tilted head and telling expression and only then does he silence himself permanently not before sighing deeply, muttering an expletive under his breath.

"I’ll sign it.” That seems to be Jean’s indirect way of asking what your choice will be.

“I... will too.” Is your hesitant reply.

Levi only becomes avoidant after that. Half way through Erwin explaining how you and Jean have to look believable Levi just ups and leaves without a word. Perhaps you've hurt his pride but for what he's done to you it's a small price to pay and so you do nothing to make amends. He has no reason to feel uncomfortable, you aren't really his wife, you're essentially strangers. Does he even know your favourite colour? Your favourite food? Your favourite pastime?

You doubt he does.

Jean and you are rather successful with your act. It feels pleasant having him brush your hair out of your face occasionally or lovingly place a hand on your forehead to check if you've come down with a fever. He laces his fingers with yours when others are around and when they aren't he lets the act go. It's satisfying having a cooperative partner.

Naturally Jean is still a tease, even now he makes the odd suggestive comment or two in passing but you can't say you hate it. In fact it excites you to think of a response that borders the edge of teasing and simple fun between friends.

The increasing openness between the two of you is enough for the cadets to deduce that he's most probably the noble man you wed in secrecy.

It's only been a few days since yours and Jean's newfound behaviour, thankfully you haven't been flooded with questions just yet. The higher ups sit nearby during breakfast, lunch and dinner keeping watch over the cadets. It leaves you able to eat and drink without having to handle the constant inquiring of your comrades.

However, you aren't as lucky today. A meeting's taking place and after yours and Jean's convincing act Erwin deems it safe enough to leave you unattended for a short while.

Of course it doesn't go according to plan because when you're involved when does anything ever go according to plan?

The cadets are flocked around your table at dinner as soon as they notice they've been left to their own devices. The opportunity to sit down without everyone invading your space is barely provided to you. Krista is sat to your right leaning into you rather animatedly, Annie has made herself at home sat across you which in itself is completely out of character and slightly unnerving, Annie never and you repeat never concerns herself with you.

"Why did you and Jean hide it?" Armin hovers over your shoulder as per usual. He can't be blamed for naturally being inquisitive and it does give you the opportunity to lay out the foundations of your plan. Now's your time to muster up one of your rehearsed responses.

"It would interfere with work." You respond immediately wanting to appear natural. Pondering on an answer for too long would raise suspicions.

Armin makes a sound of approval and shuffles into the seat next to Krista, that is until Ymir can be overheard telling him to move if he knows what's best for him.

"I have a question." Says a voice across the table, you don't have to look at the blonde parallel to you to know it's her.

For once Annie’s initiated a conversation with you, she’s not particularly great at keeping her intentions discreet. Maybe she doesn’t care if you can tell what she’s up to? But if that’s the case her plan isn’t all that foolproof, there's no way you're to let any details slip away.

Sharply inhaling waiting for what it is she has to say you find that her sentence never comes. Instead she shakes her head and murmurs a "Never mind.". You don't even have the time to ask her to stick around, she's already rose from her seat taking her unfinished plate of food with her, you let her go assuming she feels unwell.

"So how'd you two meet? Jean already told me earlier but I'd like to hear your side." Reiner's taken Annie's empty seat and his gaze is unwavering. The trap they've set up is a clever one. Surveying the hall for Bertholdt you know he has to be observing too. The two never operate alone.

You suddenly hate Reiner. For whatever reason he and his trio are endlessly obsessed with you, they've caught onto something that's for sure but you don't know what it is and now they've completely ensnared you with a backhanded trick. There's no way out of this, you have no idea what it is Jean said to Reiner, the chances of you providing the exact same answer are slim to none.

"My memory is really fuzzy, I don't think Jean gave off much of a first impression so I've forgot." Your horrible excuse doesn't fly by, everyone simultaneously narrows their eyes in disbelief. What you've said isn't convincing at all.

Husband and Wife yet you've forgot how the two of you met?

Fidgeting with the ring adorning your finger the cool metal isn't doing a great job at alleviating the pressure of the situation.

"Jean said the two of you hit it off almost instantly. Who's being dishonest?"

Reiner's either lying to catch you out or he's saying the God honest truth and right now all you can do is hope and pray for a miracle to sweep you off your feet. Mikasa and Jean still aren't within view. At this point you're hoping for Levi to save you, it doesn't matter how so long as you escape unscathed.

"Hey, I think we're just making her anxious with all the questions." Armin is quick to side with you, deep down you know he only does so due to the respect he holds for his Commander. You thank the Heaven's for Erwin's admirable smile and commendable leadership, it seems to be the only reason Armin believes you and Jean.

"Or she's lying." Reiner's resting his head in one of his palms, he's still boring holes right into your frame.

Your eye twitches, this is all unnecessary and uncalled for, whatever it is Reiner wants out of you it better be worthwhile.

He still eggs you on. "You walked out of the Captain's quarters. I saw you."

Standing up and leaning forward you plant your feet to the ground as firmly as you can you.

"And if she did what's it to you?"

Fighting the urge to sigh in relief you've never been happier to hear Jean's voice but something's off. His breathing sounds heavy - like he fought his way to get inside. Turning only then do you notice Mikasa standing by him. She looks equally as exhausted. There's been some sort of a struggle.

"You think it was funny getting Annie to guard the door?" He heaves and runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

"And you think hiding secrets from the rest of us is any better?" Reiner's adamant there's information that the both of you are hiding, he's not wrong but that doesn't change that he's challenging you unprovoked without a reasonable motive.

"We're hiding nothing." Unlike you Jean is sure of his words, he's confident speaking up and he seems to be able to pull off the role of a protective husband perfectly.

“I came out of the Captain’s quarters because he had access to hot water. He said I could use his shower. That’s all it was.”

Reiner quirks an eyebrow upwards and is pleased with your answer. God you’ve said something incriminating haven’t you? It's not incriminating per se but it's without doubt malleable and easy to twist.

“Jean, you were okay with your wife doing that at the dead of night?” Reiner's still leading the interrogation.

“I was the one who suggested it.”

“I don’t believe you’re a couple." If it were Reiner who said that you wouldn't care much, after all it's pretty clear he never believed it but to your displeasure it isn't him who's spoken. Ymir's lopsided grin is all knowing and you're beginning to lose your footing in this argument any second now if any more people start to side against you.

If Ymir disagrees that almost certainly means Krista has her qualms about you too, you've observed beforehand that Ymir tends to speak for Krista on occasion. This happens to be one of those times.

Krista timidly raises her hand and Ymir gives her an approving nod encouraging her to speak.

"I don't like the conflict going on but it is suspicious..."

"Why have I only ever seen you two hold hands?" She asks.

Ymir slings her arm over Krista's shoulder affectionately. "Yeah, I tell Krista I'll marry her every day of the week."

Mikasa mumbles something unintelligible, Ymir gives her a look of warning but Mikasa doesn't seem to care. Instead she repeats what she has to say loud and clear.

"Stick to only speaking when Krista is involved."

Krista holds Ymir by her arm so she doesn't get up, she knows how she gets when she's been provoked. Even if Krista has her suspicions it isn't worth Ymir gaining a permanent penalty point on her record.

Thankfully Armin cuts in. "There's no solid evidence to show they're lying and even if they are the Commander's most probably told them to. Don't you think there's a reason? Leave it be if that's the case. I trust him with our lives."

"We have a right to know." Annie's returned and insists to keep this back and forth going.

Just as you're about to fire back Jean takes a hold of your waist, you look down and seeing his large hands planted securely around your frame has your stomach bubbling with anticipation.

"What are you— "

And then he kisses you, he doesn't ask and instinctively your arms move to whack his chest but you stop yourself in time. You realize it's for the sake of your plan not falling through and so you gently place your hands on his shoulders attempting to ground yourself. It becomes increasingly difficult when you sink deeper into the kiss than you'd like to admit. Blood rushes to the tips of your ears and the thumping of your heartbeat makes it difficult to articulate any thoughts, all you really know is that you like this, whatever this is.

Jean's hands don't feel like they were made to rest against your back, they feel slightly out of place as if he's a key and you're an unmatched lock. In spite of that the circles he comfortingly rubs into the sides of your waist are appreciated, you almost forget you're in a room full of people until you're flooded by cold air.

You've been dragged off of Jean and something in the pit of your stomach has you wishing Levi isn't responsible for the interruption.

To your relief it's just Hange, they're glowing in mischief, the grin on their face shows they aren't mad. They might even find this entertaining.

"Well I be damned... maybe they weren't bluffing?" Connie's been persuaded by the looks of it and Krista's busy whispering to Ymir, you hear the faint sound of the word "Romantic" escape her lips, she's equally as convinced as Connie.

Hange smacks your back light-heartedly and looks to the door for a second. "We leave ya' both for a while and you decide to give everyone a show?"

Erwin's stood by the doorway with a humorous smile playing at his lips, Levi however is anything but amused, he glares at you with murderous eyes, he looks like he's ready to end your life then and there but you know he won't dare do so and for a second you feel braver than you ever have before. Without much thought you grab onto Jean's forearm.

"Me and my husband will get going now!" You allow your gaze to loiter when you get to Reiner. He grunts an apology and you're oh so tempted to ask him to repeat himself but you'd rather not instigate anything.

With that said and done you and Jean leave after giving the performance of your lives.

Slowly but gradually the sky outside becomes dark.

The will to sleep left your body long ago. It's by pure luck that you even manage to catch three hours of rest. Training is the only available distraction and dying out in battle isn't favourable by any means, your boredom may as well be used resourcefully - Strapping yourself up in your ODM gear is the best option.

A quarter way through your warm up you can sense a presence behind you, the leaves rustle and the wind feels noticeably quieter. You'd bother to turn around to see who's intruded but Levi's snuck close enough for you to be able to smell his perfume from where you're stood.

"Feel disrespected? Embarrassed even?" You jab at him knowing it'll rile him up, you don't face him not wanting to give him the pleasure of seeing your face.

"Watch your mouth." he warns sharply.

Rolling your eyes you go about your business, it stays that way for a few minutes. All the while Levi stares at you darting from tree to tree, his scrutinizing gaze scalding you repeatedly.

"Y/N!" He yells at the top of his lungs.

For some unknown reason you automatically stop and lower yourself to the ground

"I have something to tell you." Comes his tense follow up. A finger of his latches onto one of the leather straps on your back.

You can't believe he's still denying the undeniable.

"You can wait till tomorrow. I'll be going to bed."

Levi doesn't seem to care for your cold response and proceeds with no warning.

"I'm jealous." His voice shakes. The grip he has on your harness doesn't let up. With your back turned to him you're still somehow able to detect the very obvious crack of pain.

Levi, jealous?

Gritting your teeth together you feel deceived.

How much longer will you have to tolerate Levi's push and pull?

“May I ask, what he is to you, my love?”

Your breathing grows heavy, tensing up you're completely shocked by the term of endearment that falls from his lips. You haven't heard it for so long, Levi sounds eerily different.

You hate to admit it but a flicker of foolish hope lights in your chest.

"Levi why would you ask— "

"Why don't you call me Lev anymore?" He whispers sounding strangled. You can't take it anymore and hesitantly look his way.

His eyes are filled with tears "I'm sorry my love, I don't know what went wrong." you falter for a second not knowing what to think.

At that moment the flicker becomes a flame.

The man who stands right before you is meant to be dead, never to be seen again. By all accounts this should be impossible, but Lev has always been a fighter.

Bitterness stings your heart, the wounds you've collected are still fresh but despite your body's protests you don't flinch when he gently takes a hold of your wrist, bringing it closer to his mouth.

"Lev...? Is that really you...?" You ask desperately.

The warm kiss he presses against your pulse point provides you with the answer you've been longing for.

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catchmewiddershins · 4 years

Note

Hi🥺

if it's too much trouble, could I request a pt. 3 of the ‘overhearing their crush talking about them’ with oikawa, akaashi and yamaguchi?

Thanks in advance and have a nice day!💕

Haikyuu Characters Overhearing their crush talking about them - pt 3:

Includes: Oikawa, Akaashi and Yamaguchi! 💖 SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 🥺 I’m so glad you asked bcs I needed a reason to write a third part hehe

Oikawa:

He could barely keep his eyes open. Contrary to popular belief, Oikawa wasn’t a monster, he couldn’t keep pushing and pushing and never feel the consequences. Interhigh was approaching again and he was desperate to win, desperate to see the national court just one time before he left high school, desperate to prove that all of the blood, sweat and tears that he had poured into this sport wasn’t futile. So he’d stayed awake, he trained until late at night and woke before the crack of dawn to practice. And now he was feeling the toll, incapable of focusing on the words of the teacher at the front of the class, he let his mind drift, getting shocked out of his skin when the bell rang for lunch.

Floating down the corridors, he almost fell asleep standing up until he walked into a door frame. Then, as he rounded the corner he heard your voice. Oikawa had been harbouring feelings for you for a while now, ever since you’d been kind to him outside of the usual fangirl devotion - you’d helped him hide from a few of them while he was late for practice, and he’d been trying to work up the courage to confess to you. He was just... worried that you’d assume he was asking in a playboy manner, rather than from sincere feelings. Suddenly, he paused, having heard his name in passing from your conversation.

“Why do you want to go to a volleyball match? Like at interhigh?”

“Because Oikawa’s playing and I wanted to cheer him on!” There you were, you sounded so cheerful, it made his heart flutter and heat sprang to his face.

“Isn’t he that guy who’s really pretty? I hear that tons of people are swooning over him, you’ll have a lot of competition if you wanna blend in.”

“I mean yeah... he’s pretty but that’s not why I like him!”

“What, you’re different from the rest? Why do you like him then, if not his looks? They seem to be the only thing of his that are of note.”

His heart sank a little, there it was again, that focus. His hair, his eyes, his face, people complimented him on them left and right and it made him wonder if that was all he was worth - is that all he is? Just a pretty-boy athlete?

You sounded... indignant?

“I like him because of his skills, for one! Have you seen his serve? That thing looks as if it could turn my face into a pancake! And besides that, he’s such a great leader! His team clearly flourishes with him as captain, I saw one match where he couldn’t make it and they were only working at 3/4 max of the potential that Oikawa is able to draw out of them - it’s incredible! I worked on a project with him once and he was both in charge and so considerate! He’s more than his face, you know.” Your hands moved passionately and he could imagine the sparkles in your eyes as you talked, the way you occasionally did about your favourite media or facts.

He was in deep, and your rant at your friend gave him the nudge he needed to confess immediately... or maybe at interhigh.

Akaashi:

He nodded as you spoke, having been asked to help tutor you for the upcoming exam, as you had a few things that you were stuck on. He’d accepted immediately, since he was absolutely smitten with you. Nobody had been told about this, not even Bokuto, because he would tease Akaashi to kingdom come if he found out - or he’d try to set you up, which would be even worse. Gently correcting a mistake you’d made in your work, he took the time to appreciate being so close to you. Akaashi loved to spend time with you, since you’d become tentative friends due to sitting adjacent to each other in Biology, and since you occasionally came to his matches, but only when you had the time.

There was a slight noise as his phone buzzed in his pocket, and, taking it out, he saw a text from Bokuto, saying that he’d forgotten where the bibs for practice were stored and that he was outside the classroom so that Akaashi could point him in the right direction. Stepping outside with a sigh, he showed Bokuto which way the storage cupboard was, and gave him very clear directions on how to get back to the gym from there, along with another, not really that sincere, apology for having to miss practice to tutor you. However, just before he opened the door again to the spare classroom that you were working in, his ears picked up the sound of your voice, on the phone to one of your friends.

“Yes I am getting tutored by Akaashi!” His curiosity was piqued, was your friend interested in him or something? He couldn’t hear the sound from your phone speaker, but your response sent sparks through him.

“No, of course I haven’t confessed to him - It’s not like he likes me back! Besides, we are actually supposed to be working!”

“...”

“Yes, I’m sure I like him! He’s so considerate, and he explains things really well, and he always knows how to help, and he’s gorgeous.”

Oh. Oh Oh Oh! You liked him! He couldn’t stop the beaming smile that shone across his face as your conversation with your friend trailed off, leaning against the wall outside and trying to quell the ache in his cheeks that came with such a wide, lovestruck grin. His ears were pink and his eyes sparkled, and if anyone had walked past him at that moment, they’d say that he’d never looked more alive.

He walked into the classroom, glowing, and sat back down next to you before clearing his throat. He could see redness in your face as well, and mustered all his courage to do what he’d been wanting to for a while.

“Hey... I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you today and... I was wondering if... you’d maybe like to go out with me sometime?”

Your resounding yes made this the best day ever.

Yamaguchi:

It was a Saturday, sunny, warm, and boring. Yamaguchi had decided to try and pass the time by going for a quick stroll down to his favourite café, passing through a lovely green park on the way, where he walked around, looking at the different species of flower, and the fish in the ponds, throwing a few crumbs of bread to them as he passed. To be honest, the only way for the day to be more perfect would have been a backing soundtrack, then it would have felt like something directly out of a feel-good film.

Coming to a new street, he wandered past a few shops, until he came to where he’d been meaning to come. The sweets sold here were the best, and getting one, plus a lemonade, to take away while he walked was just an extremely relaxing thing to do. He was planning to go and read a book in the park, to soak up some of the sunlight and enjoy the lovely afternoon.

The bell tinkled as he pushed open the door, and his nose was caressed by the smell of baking bread and sugar. However, as he approached the front to order, he spotted you and a couple of your friends sitting in the corner, near the window, all of you nursing some cold drinks and chatting with one another. His heart jumped into his throat, the sound of it pounding in his ears. The lady at the countertop, who had got to know Yamaguchi relatively well, since he came here so often, leaned over and grinned at him.

“Do you know them?” She asked, a twinkle in her eyes. At his nod, she giggled and said to him, “Whichever of them you like, you should say so! I bet they’d say yes!”

He thanked her, quietly, and smiled, knowing that she only meant well, and waited at the side of the counter for his order to be ready. As he waited, your voice drifted over to him from your seat at the window.

“So, do you like anyone?” One of your friends said with a laugh, you appeared to be having one of those lighthearted discussions that good friends sometimes have about such things.

A blush sprang to your face, and you brought a hand to your eyes, “...Maybe...” Leaning forwards, your friend gestured for you to continue. You sunk further into your chair in embarrassment.

“Ok... so you know... Yamaguchi?”

“Yamaguchi?” Your friend replied excitedly.

“Yeah,” smiling, your gaze drifted a little, as if you were lost in thought. “He’s just the sweetest, honestly, so supportive and kind, he helped me out after I tripped over the other day, and, when I missed one of the maths lessons, he talked me through the material... he’s lovely...”

Grinning, your friend patted your hand, relaxing back into their chair, “Well, he’s definitely not the worst person for you to be crushing on, you’ll need to drop some hints though... want a hand?”

“Stop it!” You whined, bringing your hands up again to cover your tomato-red face as your friend laughed.

Yamaguchi left the café with three things, a pastry, a lemonade, and the resolve to ask you out the next time he saw you. He practically skipped down the lane as he went back to the park, joy filling his heart.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

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bemylord · 3 years

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ x ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ.

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ ʀᴇꜰᴜꜱᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴜᴄᴋ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ'ꜱ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇꜱ ʜɪꜱ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʙʟᴏᴡᴊᴏʙ.

warnings: aged up, oral, gagging, semi-public [?], nipple play, teacher x student.

m.list ◦ original work [russian language] w/c: 1.2k credit pic.

all of the characters in this scene are of legal age. i only changed the character of megumi a little bit. if you don't like this kind of relationship - i am not forcing you to read.

- i'm not gonna suck your dick here!

- come on, baby boy, don't be shy.

megumi crossed his arms over his chest, turning his torso away from the annoying teacher, whose relationship with him has moved to a more romantic stage - lovers. satoru is annoying and pesky in terms of intimacy: he loves to say dirty phrases in his student's ear, watching as a slight blush covers megumi's cheeks.

megumi, even though he tells him to stop stroking his thigh, melts, tries to squeeze into the wall behind him, to dissolve or fix, just so this pervert doesn't see his boner. satoru has a blindfold on his face, but even though the cloth he can feel how tight his student's school pants become, how his palms sweat and his face turns red.

- i'm gonna show you how to do it, gumi-gumi, - satoru swiftly removes the timid boy's pants, deftly running his fingers over the head to the balls, feeling the wet spot on the material of the underwear, as if playing with the member, passing his palm over the erupting penis.

megumi exhales noisily, immediately placing the outer part of the hand to quell the moans which are escaping from his mouth. he feels as the teacher pulls down his boxers, exposing megumi's hard cock.

his mind telling him about the insecurities and the safety of his honor, while another side of the mind, where the lust and passion are making the debauch, mutters: look down, megumi, your teacher is kneeling, willingly ready to suck your dick.

and fuck its arousal.

megumi is hesitant or asks for more as he would be embarrassed to be called a needy boy by satoru, because he's the one, who would never allow a blowjob in the class.

he quietly purrs as he feels satoru's tongue outlining the head, tracing over the frenulum, teasingly running his tongue down the base, caressing the testicles and up to the head. the sorcerer smirks, looking up to catch megumi's confused gaze, as the boy pulling his white hair to the cock.

the teacher obediently lets the organ into his warm mouth, wrapping the cock around and sucking it properly, pushing the entire cock all the way down to the uvula. the tip of his nose touched the megumi's pubic hair and he doesn't hold back, letting out a guttural moan.

satoru's pads are stroking the hips, one palm is rising higher to play with the hard nipple, swirling the pea between his slender fingers, pressing down, causing megumi to drop the sweet and involuntary whimper, pushing into his mouth deeper.

- i'm not gonna suck your dick here, - satoru mocks megumi with his own phrase, taking his cock back inside the warm mouth, guiding the muscle on the glans and veins. fushiguro is melting, trying to find support in the strong forearms.

megumi is always so malleable : once satoru has touched his member with the tongue, when gumi becomes a lovable kitten for his master.

satoru is playing with one nipple, his other hand is intertwined with megumi's one when the student is struggling to compensate for his sighs, every time he felt the nose is touching his pubic - satoru always knows how to suck properly.

gojo moves his head faster, sensing his cock is throbbing in the mouth as his strong and powerful student turned into the submissive, velvety boy who needs a release so badly, needs to feel his teacher licking his lips, licking off the rest of the liquid.

this thought is overwhelming his clarity, for megumi is incapable of thinking that anyone could catch them fucking in a class.

- don't restrain yourself, my baby boy, - satoru swirled the nipple between rugged fingers, feeling as his lover's dick pulsing, drawing the mouth into the white color.

megumi pulls away, pressing his soft and a post-orgasmic feeling overwhelms him as he closed his eyes. satoru licks himself, swallowing the salty liquid, placing his hands on fushiguro's shoulders. - baby.

although, satoru gojo - is the master of provocation. he leans over to his student's ear, guiding the muscle over an auricle, nudging his boner: he rubs his cock against megumi's one and he loves the sudden pitying whimper as fingers connected two cocks simultaneously, stroking organs without delay.

fushiguro is aware of what his lover driving in, kneeling in front of his thick, pulsative cock, dreaming to go home soon, getting a continuation on the soft bed.

he wanted to touch the pink head that beckons just by the view of the pretty glans, but the cursed energy held him back.

the boy tossed his head to find out why gojo is restraining him from a blowjob, meeting his heavenly eyes. gojo is gazing slyly on his boy, raised the eyebrow up with a mute question: did i allow you?

a crafty smile is decorated his face as megumi furrowed brows to have a chance to taste a precum on the head. he tries again to repeat the same movements but everything is even [?]

- you wanna hear it, sensei? - the sorcerer nodded, anticipating the voluptuous phrase. he overheard the doomed sigh as he watches megumi opened his mouth widely, making puppy dog eyes. - daddy, please, use my mouth.

how could satoru say no, when his baby boy is kneeling in front of him with, sticking out the pink tongue, ready to be used?

the teacher placed the glans on the megumi's tongue, allowing him to draw indecipherable gestures on the overstimulated member, tasting the precum. gumi's hands in the flash being pinned above his head as another hand satoru clenches his fist in his hair, to make sure he won't run away, as if megumi wants to.

the student compliantly relaxed his throat, trying to bring a similar pleasure to his teacher, but his cock is too big, too thick for megumi's mouth to take the whole length. the tears begin to appear in his eyes and the desire to push away satoru intensifies, but what can he do for gojo?

he tries to accept the full length, bringing his eyebrows to the bridge of his nose, watching the teacher lick his lips, his head tilted back in ecstasy: too. too good.

megumi feels as satoru is fucking him relentlessly as if it is their last time. satoru wiped out the falling tears, gently tracing circles on megumi's wet and ruddy cheeks with a thumb, giving himself to the sensations.

megumi is always swallowed the sperm after oral sex, licking the head for the authenticity that his lover has given him all the salty liquid, not sparingly spread light, airy kisses along the entire length as a thank you.

- my good boy, gumi, you did a very good job by taking the whole length, - he helps him to stand up, picking his lover up in his arms, kissing his lips. - daddy will do everything for you, baby.

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