#is this just me desperately posting because I have to finish the masterpost yes
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hi love ur fics just finished all criminal minds related!
do u have a fic rec tag or masterpost? I find when I finish someone's masterlist their recs are the next best thing
I have been considering making a fic rec post for Criminal Minds (I guess this is gonna be it lmao)
my rec tag is #sundrop's recs - and here is a link to see it in my archive (that link will work better on the desktop version of Tumblr). and I do also have a lot of recs in my AO3 bookmarks if you filter by Spencer Reid or by Criminal Minds
here are some of my favourite fics from that tag
Good Decoration by @stairain -> one of the fics I have read mostly recently because it popped up on my dash, and it is absolutely fucking phenomenal. I love how there's no explicit relationship between Spencer and the reader, and it is a one-sided fantasy/attraction on Spencer's part - I feel like so many people are afraid to write from Spencer's POV because they are not a cis man and they feel like they can't place themselves in a cis man's shoes when it comes to writing about sex and masturbation, but this kind of fic just goes to show that a little imagination can go a long way in creating a fucking amazing fic with some top tier smut. the whole point of writing is imagining someone else's perspective, and this author shows off that skill so well. 10/10 amazing
Daddy's Home by @demonicbaby666 -> this is another fucking fantastic fic. when I read it, I was immediately struck by the pure artistry behind it - the way the author put such careful word choice into every moment, and the way they use such beautiful words to pain a picture of rough, feral, needy sex - I love the contrast of verbal poetry being used to describe such desperate, passionate moments. it's one of my favourite types of smut. the writer does such a good job revealing a side of JJ that I never would have written myself, and that is also something I love about fics - reading something that you would have never thought to write. excellent, 10/10.
Sweater Weather by @sreidisms -> the fic that inspired me to become mututals with the lovely Clementine. I always love any kind of plus sized representation in fics, and the fact that this fic was ?? inspired by me speaking up about the frustration of skinny centric tropes in fics. oomf. I love being able to inspire others in their writing, especially when it comes to representation and postivity. and not only that - this fic is CUTE. I rarely read straight up fluff fics, but I love this one omg. 15/10 (with some bias, yes). amazing
Tempting The Cowboy by @incognit0slut -> this is typically not the kind of fic that I would seek out for myself to read, but me and Star were memeing in tiktok DMs about 'Cowboy Spencer', and then pretty much immediately after that, I opened Tumblr and this popped up on my dash, and I thought it was fate? so I was like 'okay, I have to check this out'. and beyond the (wonderful) gimmick of following the 'what if' - Spencer becoming a cowboy after he leaves the BAU (which is just such an amazing concept to me, like you didn't just use the visuals to write a Western AU, you actually followed what he said he would do in the show) - this is such an amazing fic. the chemistry between the two characters is amazing, Spencer actually feels natural in this role, and this smut is phenomenal. and this is fic will stick with me in my mind forever because you made it so memorable. 10/10, excellent and really memorable.
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I'm back. Fed my cats, watered my plants, took a shower, had dinner and then finally sat down and finished what I'd started. Mind blown tbh, might be one of my favorite one shots by you now. And listen, Daniel has never not been River in my mind, but your recent posts have rewired by brain chemistry a bit so I pictured him as Spader throughout the fic and let me tell ya, it was an out of body experience holy shit!!!! He might've awoken something in me 🥵 sorry River but you're gonna have to share now 🥵
"but then again, maybe the unnatural was the only place Daniel felt safe anymore. That by coming to love such an inhuman thing human experiences no longer cut it" That's my no. 1 boy!!! Coming to terms with his monsterfucking nature and embracing being unapologetically horny for the death guy, we love to see it.
“Yes, lover?” Armand murmured without putting the magazine down. Daniel rolled his eyes. He reached over and tilted the magazine down until he could see Armand’s face, stark white even in the warm glow of the lamp beside him.“ Can we talk without Cosmo in between us?” Daniel asked." Babies are learning to communicate! With words! Also it's extremely them to finally learn how to voice their needs via their sexual appetite/preferences lmao. The way you also fleshed out Armand's insecurities and uncertainty when it comes to Daniel and what really wants out of things was just lovely. "Yes, sometimes I'm more careful with you than you really know" 😭😭😭 he truly is just trying to navigate this relationship the best he can, he's just had a hard time with not letting his intrusive thoughts win, that's all.
“Oh. You took off your rings,” Daniel said. “You never do that.” Yeah this hit the spot, alright. Completely bare for the first time, fully in it for the experience. It's not just about Daniel getting what he wants now, not anymore.
"Daniel glanced between Armand’s hand and his face, his wide eyes, so dark they looked almost entirely black." full jungle cat mode, my favorite Armand mode. Blown asf pupils because he's that horny, the song of my people 🥹
"The thigh he’d just defiled, one he’d ruin further by coming on it", defiled!!!! at this point I was delirious lmaoo no coherent thoughts tbh just know that it just doesn't get better than this, in DA-verse.
“If there’s some kind of rules to this you better tell me now before I’m not able to stop,” Daniel managed to say between rough, messy kisses. He’d have felt ridiculous being so desperate his teeth clacked against Armand’s but he was too far gone to care." Also THIS. Daniel was beyond all logic here but he still had the decency to ask Armand for permission of some kind, he's so stupid in love and also the most ridiculous human, I love him so.
Life changing, this one. 15/10 no further notes xoxo DA
Dungeon anon I'm gonna cry haha You and desertfangs have been the only ones to make any comment on that fic at all and it feels so awful, but knowing you enjoyed it so much means a lot.
Also WELCOME to the wonderful world of Spader!Molloy, please see my masterpost I posted earlier and drool with me. His backlog of films is just so fucking perfect and his looks are incredible and ugh! I just love picturing him as Daniel.
That's my no. 1 boy!!! <- okay Daniel aside, are you a succession fan? haha Is this a kendall roy reference?
But yes! Making them communicate was the whole point! They're locked into this awful game of 'if I hint will you pick it up?' and 'i see your hint but i don't wanna ask what it means unless you can say it explicitly'. They have the ability to not use Armand's mind gift as a crutch they just gotta use it!
I love thinking about the opposite POV as I write and were that fic from Armand's POV it would be an entirely different story. Because what do you do if someone is saying in their mind 'yes I want this' but they're saying with their mouth 'no, I'm not into that' and then sometimes in their mind they're also like 'no I can't do that'? What do you do? It's so much pressure that I think he would retreat just like he did here.
I love Armand with his rings but I think there's so much intimacy in the idea of him taking them off. They're part of him, they're a symbol of the walls he has up and the defense mechanisms he hides behind, so any time I have him remove them around Daniel he's being the most honest.
Daniel was beyond all logic here but he still had the decency to ask Armand for permission of some kind, he's so stupid in love and also the most ridiculous human, I love him so. <- Exactly, he's always got the drive to get permission even when it's not needed! He loves being out of control. And I love him sloppy kissing, like full on messy teenage makeout mode and Armand being too into it to even tease him about it. They're both a mess!
Anyways I'm so happy you liked it because I don't think anyone else did haha Or they were all uncomfortable with saying so, I guess. I feel super defeated finally getting back on ao3 and getting crickets. But I love that you love it, I loved writing it.
ps- cats? Tell me more! Send pics if you can!
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I forgot I drew my oc Kordell and Vio’s oc Romana as Skykids because the last season’s aesthetics were peak
#sky children of the light#skykids#ocs#romana#I guESS#shoulD I Tag it MnC#MNC#is this just me desperately posting because I have to finish the masterpost yes#do I have to do the masterpost no#but this is the only way I will have any peace of mind posting ocs#ANYWAY#Kordell Sun#Romana Leyen
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Cosmo’s TMNT Masterpost
(Rise, 2003, 2012, and others)
Here’s where you can find pretty much everything I’ve ever made for the TMNT fandom! Fanfics here[haven’t gotten the courage to post fanart here yet], hope you guys enjoy my work. Reblogs are appreciated!
Fanfics
1. Finding my way home(and moving forward)
Out of sheer curiosity, Leonardo and Donatello looked up, and there it was.
A portal.
Had the Universe really taken pity on them? Had it really heard his desperate prayers for one more chance?
It was not like the ones they had seen before, it was an irregular circle made up of several shades of blue, completely different from the perfect and symmetrical pink triangles of the Kraang.
Leonardo and Donatello looked into each other's eyes for a few moments, "Should we go in?" Donatello asked, almost shouting, drawing the attention of the others, who quickly turned to the portal and to see each other, then the two brothers in question.
"It's our best bet, and our only chance," replied Leonardo.
Or rather, with the 2012 kids' home gone, they end up in the Rise verse after a strange portal shows up. Therapy is needed, and start the slow process of healing from their trauma.
(Rise/2012, Work in Progress, written with @keeryd )
2. Strawberry Cookies:
"Mikey here was just about to tell me what we could do to cheer Raph up while he's sick," Donnie says. "Mikey continue?"
Now that Mikey had both of his older brothers attention, he grins. "I was thinking we make strawberry cookies!" He does his jazz hands as he says this and is met with looks of something that he can only put as disapproval. "What?"
"You do know that everytime that we have tried to make it-" Donnie starts.
"We mess it up and Raph has to come in and save our butts from burning the cookies?" Leo finishes, "What would be different this time?"
Mikey huffs, "We are doing this so we can cheer him up and to prove that we can do something on our own!" he says, "That's what got Raph sick in the first place!"
Or rather, Raph gets sick after helping his brothers recover from the poisoned pizza puffs. Mikey, Donnie, and Leo take a shot at baking cookies for Raph while trying not to burn their kitchen down.
(One shot, complete)
3. Chicken Fried Rice:
“I only poured in half a pot of rice,” Donnie complained.
Mikey stared at him, really stared at him before he spoke. “You do realize that rice expands when cooked right?” he said, “You do realize that?”
Donnie was silent, looking away from Mikey.
“Donnie!”
Donnie makes chicken fried rice. Mikey watches over. Shenanigans and brotherly fluff ensue.
one shot in which Donnie is in the kitchen, cooking rice and Mikey, Mikey is positive he should have gotten Donnies braincell.
(One shot, complete)
4. Tea Time with Hortense and Patty:
"Sooo," Raph starts. She's always been weird with awkward silences. "Are these grandma kinning hours?"
"Grandma hours!" Mikey exclaims excitedly. "Grandma time!!!"
"Ah, if it isn't our favorite girl and her little brother!" Hortense tilts her head over in their direction slightly. "Are you going to join us? We were just about done arguing," she says.
---
Today is Tea Time. Two old ladies have a tea party, one of them forgets to bring the food, and they are joined by Mikey and Raph. A good time is still had.
(One Shot, Complete)
5. One of those Days
When Donnie woke up this morning, he woke up with the familiar thrum of anger and irritation running through his body with more intensity than normal. Rubbing the crust out of the corners of his sleep-addled eyes, he jerkily grabbed his phone and turned off the alarm. It's one of Those Days, Donnie noted. Those Days where Donnie isn't capable of handling Mikey's over-enthusiastic optimism or Leon's chaotic trickster nature. His safest bet is to hang out with Raph, his calm and mellow demeanor always helped calm down before Donnie went on a rage fest and say anything he couldn't take back.
Or, Donnie and Raph help each other out, balance each other, and make things a little less difficult.
(One Shot, Complete)
6. Gift Hunting:
“It’s Leo. Tiny Leo,” the voice answers. “I need your help with something.”
“What is it?”
“I can’t say until you say yes first,” Leo says. “It’s really important though.”
Angelo is silent, weighing his options. He could say no, he really could-
“Please, Angelo, you’re the only one who can really help me with this,” Leo pleads.
Rather, Angelo and Leonardo go out in the streets of New York to help the blue banded turtle find gifts for his brothers' sixteenth mutation day. Bonding and fluff ensues.
(One Shot, Complete)
7. Aftermath:
“Raphie bear?” Mikey called out, gently tapping Raph, with relief washing him when Raph turned his head to face him. “What’s the matter teddy bear?”
“Th-thi-this doesn’t feel real.” Raph stuttered out, his voice cracking as a sob broke through. “I’m not really here. Neither are you and everyone else. I’m still alone with Draxum and his minions. No one’s coming to save me because I was stupid enough to get captured and no one wants such a worthless turtle like me.”
In which Raph was kidnapped and tortured by Baron Draxum and his family has to deal with the aftermath of it.
(One Shot, Complete)
8. To Be the Eldest
Donnie, the second youngest in his family, wishes he was the eldest for once. Then one night, Donnie gets his wish granted and now he was three small turtles in his care.
Donnie adjusts to being the eldest, comes to some realizations, and makes a promise to his (now) younger brothers.
(Work In Progress)
9. Wanted: Snaggletooth
Dr. Noel bent down on his knees in front of Raph, a manic smile that showed too many teeth coming about on his face speaking of pain and suffering that has yet to come. He stretched out his hand towards Raph’s face, placing a thumb under his mouth, pressing into his snaggletooth. “Beautiful. Just as I expected,” he crooned, pulling out a syringe and injecting it into Raph’s neck, pushing the contents of the syringe into his system.
Raph’s eyes fluttered as he started losing consciousness, watching through hooded eyes as Dr. Noel's smile grew even wider, with his last thought right as darkness consumed him being that he hoped his family would find him before it was too late.
Post S2 Finale, Dr. Noel remembers Raphael, his snaggletooth, and manages to find and capture the red masked turtle. It doesn't end well for Raphael.
(Work In Progress)
10. Dimensional Differences:
They bow. Not like one of those pretentious bows like she would do at Yokai parties and not like the ones she would do with her brothers when they hosted tea parties. They bowed deeply, heads stopping at her stomach, one hand closing around their fists. This spoke of respect and honor.
And that unnerved her a little bit. Why are they bowing so deeply?
“Thank you,” they said in unison. It’s unnerving to April and she felt the uneasiness coming from her brothers too.
“Why are you thanking me?” She said finally, voice sounding foreign to her.
“You saved my life?” Baby Leo said slowly, voice tinged with confusion. “That was an honorable thing to do?”
April blinked, “It shouldn’t be considered honorable for doing what any big sister would do,” she said. “That’s not honor, that’s just being a good older sibling.”
In which April, Sunita, Casey, and the turtles end up in the 2012 verse after a mishap with Leo's ōdachi and stay with the 2012 turtles until they can go home. They find out a lot of things that don't quite jive with them. Some things are the same, some things are different and they're not quite sure how to handle those differences.
(Rise/2012, Work In Progress)
11. Mind Meld Part Deux:
“Oh thank Galileo that you all are back to normal!”
“What do you mean we’re back to normal?” Raph questioned, pulling back from the hug. Mikey and Leo also pulled back to stare at Donnie. “We’ve-we’ve always been like this?”
Donnie went quiet. He shouldn’t have said that.
“Donnie, what did you do?”
The brothers found out about Donnie’s Mental Intelligence Reprogrammulator. Arguments are had, words are said, words that tear a rift between him and his family, and it’s up to Donnie to earn his brothers’ forgiveness. The only thing is, will he get it?
(Work In Progress)
12. I'm a little kid and so are you(don't you go and grow up before I do):
The 2003 turtles somehow, someway ended up in the Rise verse, with Rise Splinter and his turtle tots, and stay with them while the boys try to figure out their way home. 2003 Raphael got attached to his tiny counterpart the moment he laid eyes on the tot. (Raph centric)
(Rise/2003, Work In Progress)
13. Dimensional Self-Isolation
Post S2 Finale, Raph finds himself trapped in the 2012 universe and has a difficult time coping with all of the differences that this world has in store for him. From new villains, unfamiliar familiar faces, and the way the 2012 boys and Splinter treat each other and him, Raph has a heavy plate on his hands during his long term stay.
(Rise/2012, Work In Progress)
14. A Collection of Turtle Thoughts
A collection of drabbles and ficlets about Turtles I've been writing since October 2020. Ranges from humor to hurt/comfort, I have it all.
Requests are open. SFW only though.
(All Iterations, Work in Progress)
If y’all reblog, read, and share my work, I’d really appreciate that! Anything and everything is appreciated, money or not! Thanks folks 🐢💕
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Chapter twenty one: “Love Is Strange”
Masterpost - Prev - Next.
Warning(s): none
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You had already arrived in Miyagi about three days ago when you received a new message from Bokuto explaining that he would be coming to visit you two weeks from today. You were too happy to express it to your friends; but you couldn't do it even if you wanted to, as one of them wouldn't be happy.
Ushijima during the bus ride did not speak to you, even if he had said the opposite before. He appeared to be angry but was actually rather confused. Not understanding much about love, he was afraid that something bad would happen to you. Wakatoshi said he didn't believe you about the 'nothing happened with Bokuto' thing. He was convinced that the minute you got to school, you would take all your things and go to Tokyo with him.
Anyone would know that before living with someone you have to trust him… You did trust Bokuto, but you had only dated him once; plus you knew him less than a week ago!
Basically, Ushijima was thinking the same as Tendou a few days ago (and that he now had in mind from time to time, to be honest, but did not admit it).
Wakatoshi watched you for the three days following your arrival, waiting for some sign that you would depart again. But of course, you never did.
Tired of your friend ignoring you, you decided to stalk him through the hallways until you reached a corner and could approach him.
“Okay Wakatoshi, enough already,” you said once you could make him stop walking. “I will not go to Tokyo, I promise. I know you don't know much about… love, but you must understand that I don't love Bokuto and I would never let him hurt me. And of course, I wouldn't go live with him today, I'm still extremely young!”
Ushijima looked you in the eye with his serious face. That same face he had every day. It did not express too much, he could be sad, happy, and even confused, but his face would always have the same serious expression.
“You do not love him?” he asked.
You blushed and shook your head. It was too, too, too early to decide if you were in love with Bokuto. Jeez, again, you've only dated him once!
From that moment on, Ushijima decided to stop trying to understand love. It was too much for him, to the point that he returned a love letter to the person who wrote it thinking that she had forgotten it above his bench. The girl cried for weeks at the thought that she was not enough for the great Shiratorizawa volleyball captain.
If only she knew the truth...
“Love is strange,” he said walking next to you going towards the school cafeteria.
[...]
The days passed very quickly, thus arriving the day that Bokuto would come to Miyagi. Emiko was going crazy all over your room, which was apparently hers now as well. She took your clothes out of the closet looking for the ideal outfit for your reunion with Koutarou.
“I think your boyfriend will love this dress. Well actually you must like it before him, but it doesn't matter!” she said, to finish the sentence with a giggle.
You had already told her millions of times that Bokuto was not your boyfriend, but she was stubborn that he was. She firmly believed that you and he were soulmates.
“Emiko, we are in the middle of winter, I'm going to freeze,” you said sitting on her bed.
“Well my dear, to be beautiful you have to suffer, don't you think?” she said throwing the dress, which fell on your head. “Besides, he can lend you his jacket, like a real gentleman.” You prayed that Bokuto told you that he had already arrived at the station, so you could escape from the dangerous clutches of your friend.
Maybe the gods heard you because, at that precise moment, Koutarou sent you a message saying that the bus would arrive in fifteen minutes. Desperate you decided to put the dress on, even if you would freeze. Without saying much more, you grabbed a big, warm coat, and ran towards the station. Upon arrival, a tall boy with spiky hair was waiting for you, making signs in the air with his hands.
“Y/n, over here!” said. When you got to where he was, he hesitated a bit and then hugged you. “Good to see you, how are you? Aren't you cold dressed like this?”
Yes, yes you were. But it was better to keep it. You were already too embarrassed since you came rushing to the station, to admit that you were running late to come to pick him up and wearing whatever you could find (or whatever Emiko made you wear).
“I'm fine, how was the trip?”
While Bokuto told you everything he had done the two weeks that you had not seen each other, you guided him to his inn. Even though you insisted that he stay at your house, he didn't want to bother you and booked two nights in a small hotel that was just minutes from Shiratorizawa. He would leave on Sunday afternoon, in order to arrive in Tokyo not too late at night.
All the way, Bokuto and you were holding hands. Something that made Koutarou very nervous. He had sworn to Akaashi that he was going to do it, or else Keiji had to hit him on the head.
“How about I put down my bags and go have a coffee or something like that?” he asked once he got to the place where he was going to stay.
“Of course, do you want me to accompany you inside?” Bokuto shook his head with a smile on his face.
After a few minutes, Koutarou walked out the door of the small building with a coat in his hands.
“Here,” he said, offering you the jacket. “I know you're cold, and since I brought one more I figured I should give it to you.”
A little flushed and with a small smile, you agreed, saying a thank you loud enough for him to hear, but low enough so that no one else would.
You walked a few blocks until you reached the most popular cafe in all of Miyagi. Until the moment you crossed the street to enter the place, small white particles began to fall from the sky.
“Oh my God, it's snowing!” Bokuto said like a little boy. He then started jumping trying to catch some of them.
'Great, the last thing I wanted to happen is happening right now. I fricking hate snow' you thought watching Koutarou laughing. ‘At least he’s happy.’
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Taglist: @nataliahaslosthershit @softesyoongi @allofycurlove @iwaizumi27athletictrainer @quiche-inoya @lukeyaccount @melodiamore @bokutowo @Aideen00 @amgoldena @the-moon-and-the-book @that-chick212 @onlyroad
General taglist: @moonlightaangel @indecisivehusky @kageyamasgirl @anejuuuuoy
Thanks for the support!
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If you want to be tagged in these posts please comment here or send an ask.
You can also complete the form that is linked in the Masterpost.
Thanks for reading🥰
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Make Out (AltMal)
This was one of the fills for @superfinebeam who requested AltMal to the song Make Out by Julia Nunes as part of the Valentine’s Day Playlist Challenge. I’ve never written AltMal, so I hope this suited!
Warnings: None
Read on Ao3 here!
When they had been younger and circumstances were different, when they hadn’t been so angry -- or as angry --, it had been something else. Touches were fleeting and glancing. Not like the blows delivered and exchanged during training.
Kisses tended to make them better. They were never able to exchange them for that long, or share too deeply the emotions that might have gone into them were they different or in different places.
For all this, both men could only hope that whatever words were exchanged in the fiery day, under the all seeing sun, didn’t have a place in the cooler night time where no one was around. Not that it was forgotten, but a bit more forgiven.
This did not last. But while it did… It was nice.
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The entire time Malik had known Altair -- meaning, their entire lifetimes -- the man had never been able to sit and settle. Not that you were encouraged to do that as an Assassin, in terms of settling. But sitting and being patient, that was sort of encouraged, in some aspects. You were meant to be aware of yourself, to understand. It helped once you understood yourself to understand how you affected the world around you.
These were all important things. And yet, so often forgotten.
And Malik couldn’t help but remember this as he watched Altair strut around the Jerusalem Bureau, forgetting one of the few rules Malik now had and was able to enforce over the now-novice.
“When I ask you to prepare for a mission, I ask you to do it quietly.”
“Would you rather I scream?”
“I’d rather you stay in one place.”
“I thought you were enjoying my company.”
“Oh?” Malik spared a glance from his maps -- he hadn’t even gotten to work on them with being too focused on Altair, the complete ass -- and glanced up to see the other man standing in front of him, watching him with sharp eyes despite the hood. It wasn’t a look that disarmed him too much, he was used to it. And yet… It was familiar. “What gives you such an idea?”
“You could have told me to leave a long time ago. Or not allowed me to stay at all.”
“Whatever you may believe I may think of you, I would not shove an Assassin out of a sanctuary if he needed it.”
“Truly?”
Malik grunted in response and looked back down at his map, though he didn’t know where to start again with it. Altair wasn’t done.
“Would you be upset if I left and took the noise with me?”
“I’d have peace.”
“I don’t believe that’s an answer.”
Malik said nothing to that, feeling himself being backed into some corner somehow. Altair always had that sort of way, though he never understood it. By all rights he could belittle or shame him for acting this way to his betters, and Malik did think on this and used it to draw himself to his full height to look Altair in his eyes.
“If you excuse me, novice. I have to work.”
“As usual.” Altair nodded just a bit, eyes scoping Malik just a bit as he did. “I won’t take up much more of your time, then.”
Malik barely got out a farewell before the man was gone, white robes barely leaving a trace behind him.
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“Why do you do these things?” Malik asked the next time Altair came around and did the same routine, unwilling to allow him some sort of leg up. Altair was unperturbed.
“Do what things?”
“Is your existence on this world made with the purpose to upset me? Do you get some sort of pleasure from that?”
“Why would it?” He asked, still in such a measured tone, but even Malik could sense he had caught the once ‘great Assassin��� off guard.
“Because you do them so often that I’m left to wonder.”
Altair stalked closer so he was right across from Malik, the wood counter being the only divide between that and even then being nothing when only an arm shooting out to grab could be the distance breaker. Malik had his hand planted on the rough wood and leaned on it, making the distance all that much shorter any way, and Altair seemed to meet his stance just enough. He didn’t lean in, but his hands grazed the wood just enough as he started off slowly. His eyes, almost glowing golden despite the dying sun streaming in through the windows, met Malik’s.
“Whatever you believe I may think of you,” Malik recognized his words being echoed back at him but said nothing, allowing the man to continue, “you are likely wrong.”
“I believe you think of me as an inferior still. And that’s why you like to play with me.”
“I don’t play with you.”
“What’s all this then?”
“How else am I going to get your attention when you seem focused on everything but me?”
Malik found it in himself to speak again, almost caught off guard at that. Almost.
“You need to continue to learn that not everything is about you. We don’t all exist for Altair.”
Altair said nothing at that, leaning in just a bit more. Instead of widening the distance as Malik was sure he was supposed to do, he merely stayed stuck in his spot as if he were in a vat of honey.
“I know that. And… I wish to keep learning things. Things I fear I’ve forgotten.”
“Such as what?”
It was silent and still in the Bureau as Altair leaned in one more time, his only barrier being Malik, who found himself more willing than he believed he would be.
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A tongue tracing on the seam of his lips, hands just as exploratory under his robes, Malik could feel himself falling deeper into the feeling evoked from the sensations, fire building somewhere deep inside of him. It was a fire he had missed for so long, something from when he was not much more than a boy, working on becoming a man in many ways.
He was a man now, for sure. In that transformation he had lost many dear things -- family, body, maybe some of his own soul with it -- but this was something new. Not a replacement for things long gone, but… something else. Perhaps something better?
Not better.
Or yes?
This wasn’t- No.
“Don’t say you have to leave.”
“Hmm?” Malik was brought back to the present as Altair complained, mouthing the words against his lips before pulling away a bit. His hood was down, rarely, and though something in Malik was glad to see it, it was altogether a… different sight.
“You went into your mind again the way you do when you have to leave me. Or you want to leave me.”
“It’s not…” Malik looked from where they were sequestered in the corner, sure that no one would barge in and knowing that Altair could hide if anyone did. Still… “I’m still busy. And you’re still meant to do your business.” He somewhat playfully freed his arm and tugged Altair’s hood up a bit more.
“We have time.”
“And we’ll have more time later when I finish what I have to do. Letters to organize, recruits to manage and note-”
“I know you’re already done with those.” Altair interrupted, but there was a tinge of something more… urgent in his voice when he spoke afterwards. “I’m asking. Don’t make me do it again.”
It was quite nice. Although if Malik didn’t know better, he would have thought the man sounded desperate in a way. He even said so. But upon not receiving any reassurance to the contrary, no calls against the bluff…
“Alright, Assassin. As you say. Just a bit longer.” He conceded quietly, leaning back in to kiss Altair’s against the wall as two arms wrapped around him.
How much longer, he was unsure. And he was unsure if he would regret it. But he would give it all the same. Time was something they had so little of now, and though stopping and knowing oneself was important… He knew that, deep down, he didn’t want to stop. And he didn’t need to dig deep to know Altair wouldn’t allow that, either.
I hope you enjoyed! This was part of the Valentine’s Day Playlist Challenge, which has ended, though I will be posting requests all of the month of February and you can read more of what was posted specifically by following the tag in the bolded link above. I have a Masterpost here and more unrelated ideas for writings and prompts here, so feel free to request! If you’d like to support me, I have a ko-fi here but absolutely no pressure on that front. Have a wonderful day!
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ngc ramblings part 2- chapters 3 and 4
time for post 2 babeyy!! i didnt try to really be funny in this one like i did the last one, so i hope u dont mind!! heres a link to the first post if u missed it! ill make a masterpost of all the parts once im done with all the chapters. now lets get into trance and dementia!! (that sounds. hilarious out of context)
here we are at trance! the name of this one is pretty clear, but ill still go into the definition for the sake of clarity. basically, a trance is a state of half consciousness and an absence of response to external stimuli, like what you might experience when under deep hypnosis. this is probably referencing the “episodes” that melissa would go into where she would jsut kinda stare off into the distance and not emote all that much. the music here is compared to the videodrome theme, which probably means theres a consistent high note in the background, with the main attraction of the song being garbled electronic noises, maybe with some more coherent synth coming in at some point. either way, it probably is meant to make you feel uneasy because as we all know, high pitched noises are spooky.
the new kaiju this time around is orga (a kaiju with some mutated godzilla dna in it). this makes zach realize that this game couldnt be just some unreleased version of the normal one (as if fuckin red appearing didnt already make that clear) so he now figures that its a rom hack of some kind that his friend just happened to find. im glad he didnt just immediately go to assuming it was haunted because thats SUCH a common thing in these creepypastas and its so dumb?? good job cosby... anyways the first level zach goes into is also the first quiz level, where we finally meet face!!! my beloved,, i dont really know how to approach the quiz levels tbh? because on one hand i wanna examine face as a character all at once but on the other hand i wanna talk about them as i go... for this post ill leave all the quiz stuff out, but i wanna know if yall would want them included in the future! ill just make a separate post for all the quiz levels if you dont :3. overall though, the first quiz level gives me the feeling that face is assessing who and what zach is, maybe throwing random stuff in to make it not seem suspicious or something?
anyways, zach finishes the quiz level and moves onto a green temple level. zach describes the music of these levels as hypnotic, which might relate to the planet name? the only enemies in this level are dead things, specifically a ghost thing and a bat with a horse skull head, who probably killed the things that became the ghosts. already this world is a little different than pathos because it has buildings in it!! specifically, this world is filled with green temple levels, which i think translates in-game universe to two large temples and three smaller ones (based on how the levels are kinda clumped together, with single ones kinda spread out). outside of the temples are the same empty blue mountain stages that pathos had, but now with not-moguera hangin around! i feel like this further proves my idea i talked about in the last post, where not-moguera and not-gezora killed all the life on the planet together, because as far as is said the blue mountains are still empty here except for not-moguera. theres also some cave stages from pathos here, but not as many.
moving on, after zach gets through some stages its time for the bosses! first up is not-varan, whos sprite looks like its an altered version of varans actual sprite from the original game, just like the other not-kaijus so far. i think this is a theme among all of the nots here so ill just say when they dont look made up of the originals parts from now on. not-varan fights by kicking and shooting heat-seeking missiles. its head is backwards, so it cant see whats in front of it. i get the feeling that the missiles are heat-seeking in order to kill anything coming towards it that it cant see and the kicks are more of a desperation thing, like oh god my missiles didnt kill something and now its hurting me, i need to get away or something like that. so i guess i would describe its fighting style as defensive? anyways, moving on. next zach fights not-hedorah, who is the source of the horse-bats. this is the first one that doesnt seem to be made up of an original monsters parts, but it does have the same color scheme so theres that. not-hedorahs fighting is a lot more aggressive, summoning horse-bats to keep you distracted while he goes to town on you. i think a second not-moguera was put here to help not-hedorah kill everything, because i don't think not-varan would be very useful when it comes to doing that lmao. so after zach beats not-hedorah, no more horse-bats spawn which is neat! after beating not-hedorah, zach tries to enter the base level without beating orga but it doesnt work so i wont dwell on it.
orga is just a normal godzilla monster, so there isnt as much to say about him. i do think that orga was an original resident of trance before the not-kaiju came around to kill everything, like biollante was on pathos. he fights by punching, shooting a heat beam, and eating other monsters! i think this last one, even tho its a normal part of the kaiju, is here to foreshadow reds preferred method of killing things that we see later (especially since orga also unhinges his jaw to eat things). anyways this fight makes zach geek out and think that the game must have been made by a fellow person of culture and godzilla fan!! which is funny for reasons ill get into later. he doesnt have much time for a fanboy moment tho bc he has to run the mile again with coach red!
this time around, the game is trying to trip zach up by including some obstacles to avoid while you run from red. red doesnt have any issue with them though, theyre not meant to keep him away from you, after all. zach was freaked out but he still has his epic gamer skillz so he beat the level just fine. when he was done he yelled in gamer delight before red looked at him like “shut the hell up” and zach almost pissed himself. and thats trance!! before i move onto dementia tho, i wanna talk about trance itself because of course i do. i think this planet used to be home to a lot of creatures like pathos was, but this society was more developed and spirituality was very important to them, hence all of the temples. i dont think it was a very somber or strict society though, mainly im getting that from the temple music having an “indian techno vibe” to, it. so from what i gather, this society was very spiritual but also they liked to party. while im on the subject of the temples, i think that face is hiding out in either like a small side building or a hidden room inside of one of the big green temples. trance probably used to be his home, and when everything started getting killed i think he hid out somewhere he would be safe. i dont know about yall, but the quiz levels always gave me the impression that they were indoors for some reason? so that definitely contributes to the hiding in a temple idea but i think it still works if you dont feel the same. i think thats all i really have to say about trance, so lets move on to dementia!
ok as usual, were starting out with the planets name: dementia. you know what dementia is but again, for the sake of clarity its basically a disorder caused by brain injury or disease that causes memory loss, personality changes, and impaired reasoning. im not entirely sure why dementia specifically was chosen here, and my best guess for what it could mean is that maybe its foreshadowing melissas condition? it doesnt really resemble dementia at all but thats my best guess lmao. anyways, this chapter starts out with zach still freaking out about red looking at him and wondering whats up with the game before we get our board description this time around. its during this little beginning part that he decides that he has to finish the game just to see what the hell is even going on with it, which like. fair. ok so the boards music is described as basically a slow piano cover of the original games saturn theme.
as will be the routine from now on, zach starts with the quiz level. the questions face asks this time around seem like hes trying to get to know more about zach at this point, though theres still the usual unrelated questions mixed in (though theres only like 4 of them this time)! for the last question he asks, face must have figured out that zach is a human because he offers him a new monster! zach obviously says yes pogs irl when he sees that face gave him anguirus, his second favorite godzilla monster (whats his favorite godzilla monster? is it godzilla? he hasnt mentioned a favorite monster yet so why bring up your second favorite? idk) and one that hes wanted to play as since he was a child, which is interesting (im sure youre sick of hearing this by now but, more on that later). ok now onto the levels.
the first kind of level is a palette swap of the blue mountains from the last two worlds, but this time theres also water! the music is “a very simple song with a lot of abrupt pauses, followed by a loud note every few seconds” so take from that what you will. this level doesnt have any enemies in it, just like the last two, but this time it looks like zachs goin for a swim bc were goin underwater babeyy!! the enemies in the water consisted of a piranha (which zach likes because he can “tell what it is” talk about a buzzkill) and a spiky bottom feeder thing whatever taht means. and that's it for that level type. kinda boring but the other two level types make up for it. speaking of, lets go onto the next level type! these levels actually have an in-game name for them; unforgiving cold. these levels are very long, taking place in a castle dungeon made of blue bricks, with statues of terrified faces lining the walls. these levels made zach really anxious, and the longer he played them the more he felt like he was getting close to something “unspeakably evil” yea sure dude. its now that he starts to suspect something supernatural is going on, because he thinks the game can make the player feel things at will, which imean he isnt wrong? also the music in these levels is just a looping choir that sounded familiar to zach for some reason. there werent any enemies (which im realizing is a running theme in this thing huh) so were onto the first boss, not-baragon.
not-baragon is another one that isnt made up of its originals parts, but still has the same color scheme. he fights with a really strong kick, ice breath, and pissing on you with a gatling gun dick. yes im being serious. like??? i didnt remember taht being a thing but oh my god just look at this shit.
comedy gold. you even do extra damage to him if you attack the gun like??? anyways zach beats not-baragon and goes on to the last level type, the arctic. the level is literally just an icy tundra with some water segments, and the music is compared to northern hemispheres from donkey kong country but 8bit? and zach described it as “dangerous sounding” so theres that. the enemies here consist of a thing that zach says kinda looks like not-gezora but without the eye (i can kinda see it? maybe) thats frozen in ice, a spike ball with legs that explodes and shoots spikes everywhere when it dies, and the piranhas from the green mountains. the last two are only in the water segments, because yea theres water segments and theyve got platforming babeyy!! at the end of the level, theres a mini boss fight with maguma (a walrus kaiju), who runs away when you beat him. thats all the levels, so we can get on to the rest of the bosses!
the next boss is manda, a sea dragon kaiju. he fights by spitting fire, biting, and constricting (also he switches things up if somethings not working, so hes a pretty smart cookie). during the fight the atragon (which is like an airship from one of the movies i think?) shows up to help, which zach thought was epic and poggers even tho it didnt help at all. and thats the manda fight, moving on! the next fight is weird, because nothing is there for a little while before a fish shows up, screams, and then gets fuckin kilt by not-gigan. once again, it doesnt resemble the original but it uses the same color palette. it fought with a blood beam it shot from its mouth and a slash, and zach described it as fast and unrelenting, so definitely a really aggressive mike wazowski lookin motherfucker. after zach beats him, he goes on to the last boss of dementia, spacegodzilla (i guess the people who make the kaiju were going through a creative block or something lmao). spacegodzilla looks like normal godzilla but hes blue now and hes got ice!! why tf is he called spacegodzilla!!! anyways hes also more strategic with his fighting pattern, making ice crystal spires taht charges up his special meter and also keeps you from reaching him. when you do get close to him, you participate in a funney big dinosaur slap fight until u win, pog!! now on a completely different note, big reds comin to town (aw shit. here we go again)
this time around the chase is mostly underwater (tho its blood now bc ooo spooky,, sometimes i forget that this story is supposed to be scary tbh) so red has to put his floaties on before he can follow zach. theres also landmines over pits and red reveals his weird tentacle hand mouth tongue before zach finally gets away and the chase is over. reds startin to get frustrated bro, he's tried to catch this fucker like 3 times now wadda hell!!! btw these chase sections are a lot less crazy than i thought they were like. huh. ig its more intense when you listen to a reading lol. anyways now its time to talk about dementia as a planet. i think the whole “the not-kaijus are killing all the stuff on these planets for red” still holds true, and i feel like it will continue to do that, so ill just briefly mention it from now on. this planet is all ice and water basically though, so i think they had a harder time doing it this time, hence why the underwater sections have more enemies and the only original kaiju here can stay underwater for protection. also, i think face followed zach to dementia from trance because he realized what zach was doing and wanted to help out, which is why he gave zach anguirus.
basically i picture dementia to be a planet thats mostly water with some land thrown in, and an old dilapidated castle in the center. i think the castle itself was probably destroyed by the not-kaijus (along with anything alive that might have been in it). i cant decide if i think spacegodzilla or manda would have lived there, so ill just say they both lived there as gay lovers or somehting. as for the statue faces, theyve appeared on trance and dementia so far, and theyll continue to appear throughout the pasta. basically, i think these represent melissa and/or her presence. like in the green temples on trance, i think that alludes to how melissa is kind of an “angel” or divine being later in the game, and in the blue castle i think they could represent how melissa is (supposedly, more on that later) being held in the game so she can be tortured forever (which is why they look fuckin terrified). i think thats all i have to say about dementia.
before i end the post i wanted to say something abt the planets names. in the first post, i said i would talk about the planets names significance all at once but i. completely forgot that while writing this one, so ill just do them as i go from now on!! basically what i think the significance of pathos’ name is could be multiple things. it could be referencing the sad state of the planet itself, it could be foreshadowing that playing this game is going to be a painful experience for zach, or it could be talking about the incident with melissa, and how that was a really painful experience for zach (i wouldnt be surprised if it gave zach ptsd honestly). so thats the end of the post babeyy!! next up is entropy and extus!
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Take it Slow - Part Forty-Nine
a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.
Warnings: Smut, Fluff, and a wee bit of Angst.
Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)
“Morning, Harry.” Isaac smiles at Harry as he walks in.
“Mornin’.” He says going right to his office. He was extremely groggy. He barely got any sleep thinking about a future with you. He was just too excited at the thought of you someday being the mother of his children.
“Have a good weekend?”
“Mm.” He says, not really being awake enough to talk yet.
He goes into his office and sits down. His phone buzzes, a notification from Instagram. You had posted some pictures from Saturday. He smiles when he swipes to see the picture of the two of you, and then some from the photo booth. You also added a funny one of you and Niall, and a decent picture of the four of you. He double taps to like it, and sets his phone aside. Julia knocks on his door.
“Hi Harry.”
“Hi.”
“Doing the coffee rounds.”
“Julia.” He sighs. “I ask for the same thing every mornin’, do ya think we could skip this part and just go straight to when you actually give me the coffee from now on?”
“Um…sure, Harry, I could do that.”
“I’d really appreciate it.”
She smiles and leaves. He knew she looked forward to that first interaction every day, but he just needed the time to settle in without being interrupted. He grabs a camera and head down to the set up he’d be working with for the day. Mariah joins him a couple minutes later. They chat about the weekend and he shows her the pictures you posted. Julia comes over with their coffees.
“Ah, thanks, love.” Harry says without really thinking about it, taking a sip of his coffee. Her face heats up.
“You’re welcome.” She smiles at him.
“Right, well, have fun with Myk today.”
She turns and leaves them alone. Later when he feel puckish for a snack he bumps into Paige in the breakroom.
“Hey, H.” She says.
“Hi Paige, good weekend?”
“Yeah it was alright, went by way too fast.”
“Agreed.” He grabs a protein bar from a cabinet. “How are things with Dana?”
“Really good actually, she’s a fast learner. It’s been nice having some help, I’ve been able to get a lot more work done since I’ve been letting her handle some more of the mundane tasks. Thanks again for telling Ryan to have her work with me.”
“So you haven’t been annoyed at all?”
“I was at first, but once I realized that she was actually helping I was totally over it.” She smiles.
“Good, glad I could help.” He smiles back.
Harry’s day is easy for the most part. No one really interrupted him which he greatly appreciated. There were a fuck ton of pictures and shots he needed to take. He was exhausted by the time he needed to leave to meet Niall.
“Have a good evening, H.” Isaac says as he leaves.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Always have such a bright smile on your face? I have to say it always helps me leave here with a good mood.” Harry smiles at him and leaves.
“Oh my god.” Isaac says to himself, feeling slightly flustered.
//
Harry meets Niall at the storage unit, and they take a couple of trips bringing things back and forth. After work you went home to pack up a bunch of things. You also wanted to make dinner for Harry since you knew he’d be hungry after doing so much heavy lifting. When he got home he was sweaty and tired. He took his shirt off the second he was able to hang his coat up. He was desperate for a shower, and you.
You were bent over cleaning something up off the floor, tears streaming down your cheeks. Harry rushes over to you, and you stand up.
“Hi.” You sniffle, and then look at him surprised. “Where’s your shirt?”
“I just took it off, what happened?”
“I was taking dinner out of the oven and I burnt myself and then I dropped everything on the floor. I feel really bad because I know you did a ton of work tonight and I just wanted to have a nice dinner made for you.” You wipe your eyes.
“Where’d you get burnt, babe.”
“My wrist, look.” You hold your wrist out to him. He leads you over to the sink and runs a paper towel under some warm water. You raise an eyebrow at him.
“It’s better to run a burn under warm water, cold water will make it scar.” He dabs your wrist with the paper towel and you wince, but relax at the way he touches you. “I’m sorry this happened.”
“I just finished cleaning everything up. I’ll have to dive into our frozen meals, I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright, love.” He continues to press the paper towel to your wrist. He removes it and brings your wrist up to his mouth for a kiss. “There, all better.” He kisses the top of your head. “A frozen meal is just fine, do ya mind poppin that pizza we got in the oven? I’m desperate for a shower. I probably smell like a goat.” You giggle.
“You smell just fine, and yeah I can make that for us.”
“Thanks.”
He goes into the bathroom and gets in the shower. He stands there for a while just letting the warm water cascade over him. You pop the pizza into the oven, and go sit on the couch with your laptop. You wanted to start your first assignment for class. You had to read a few chapters out of your book and then post in a forum. You had two different high lighters out so you could color code. Harry comes out in just a pair of boxers, his hair still damp. He sits down next to you. You had the TV on while you were reading and high lighting. He watched as your lips mouthed the words you were reading.
“How can you concentrate with the TV on?”
“Hm?” You look at him. “I don’t know, I need the background noise. I usually have the TV on or listen to music while I do my homework. Are you one of those people that need it silent?”
“No, I used to listen to music, just couldn’t read with the TV on.”
“Well, I already read what questions she wants answered in the forum, so I’m just skimming for quotes.”
“Cheatin’ the system a bit?” He smirks.
“I learned a long time ago, it’s all about learning how the teacher teaches. I’m taking in all of the content, but I also know how to play the game. I’m not going to put in a crazy amount of effort if I don’t need to.”
“What happened to givin’ your all?”
“I still am.” You shrug. “I still fully intend to get an A, I’m just doing it the way I know how.”
“How come you have two high lighters?”
“I code while I read, it helps me remember things when I go back to study later.”
“What-“
“Harry.” You sigh. “TV is one thing, but you talking isn’t really helping me read.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I can go into the bedroom if you want.”
“No, it’s fine. Do your readin’ here.” He smiles.
You get back to it and find what you need for quotes. You grab your laptop and open up a word document. You had a word limit you needed to hit and you wanted to hit it well. Harry steals glances of you. You looked so concentrated. He couldn’t believe how fast you were typing away while you answered your questions. The timer went off on the oven, so he got up to take it out. He let it cool for a few minutes and then sliced it up. He brought two pieces on a plate over for you and set it on the coffee table. You copied everything from the document into the forum and posted.
“Finally.” You sigh and grab the pizza. “In a couple days I have to respond two people, and then I’ll be done for the week.”
“Seems tedious.”
“Very, but it’s easy so I’m not complaining.”
“What’s this class about?”
“It’s a philosophy, ethics, and education course. I think I want to teach at a collegiate level someday so getting an MEd is the route I think I’m going to take.”
“Hm, Professor Y/L/N, I like the sound of that.”
“Me too, I especially like the way it sounds coming from you.” You give him a peck on the cheek and dive into your pizza.
“I don’t think I’d survive one of your classes.”
“Why’s that?”
“The combination of how strict you’d probably be with how sexy you’d look teachin’ would just be disastrous. I’d probably have to come to your office for extra help, and then who knows what would happen?” You shake your head at him.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“It’s true! I wonder what options you’d give me for extra credit.”
“Who says you’d even take one of my classes?” You get up and put both of your plates in the sink. He follows you around.
“If I saw you on campus, I’d sign up for any class you’d be teachin’.”
“That’s only because you know me.”
“Not true.”
“Are you saying there was a hot professor at your school that you took every class with?”
“God no, I don’t think I had a single young, hot professor.” He laughs. “I typically stuck with the grad assistants.” You roll your eyes at him. “Kidding! Yikes, lighten up.” He smirks.
“Harry, I would literally not be surprised to find out if you fucked every single woman at both of your universities.”
“Not all of ‘em, didn’t fuck anyone that had a boyfriend.”
“My, how considerate of you.” You say sarcastically.
“What about me? If I were a professor at your university, would you have had a crush on me?”
“Harry, I think in any universe I would have a crush on you.” His cheeks heat up. He wasn’t expecting such an honest answer. You walk away from him and plop back down on the couch.
“Don’t get too comfy, c’mon.” You turn your head up to look at him.
“What?”
“Bedroom, let’s go.” You cross your arms and turn your attention back to the TV. “Y/N.”
“Aren’t you too tired?”
“Caught a second wind. Nothin’ on the TV is more important right now.”
“Says you.” You point to the TV. “The Bachelor is just about to start.”
“I’m sorry what?”
“Harry, the season of The Bachelor starts tonight, and I’d like to watch.” He comes over to sit next to you.
“Please, tell me you’re joking.”
“No, and in fact…” Your phone goes off, you have a FaceTime request from Niall. Your face lights up as you answer. “Hey!”
“Tell me you’re watchin’!”
“Yes! And you’re friend here doesn’t seem to understand the importance.”
“Next Monday we are gettin’ together to watch, just like last season.”
“Yes! Please, I need you here. Can you believe they went with Peter over Mike?”
“I’m still not over it.” Harry bends over and puts his face in his hands.
“I cannot fucking believe this.”
“You can either sit and watch or go to another room. This is my guilty pleasure and I’m allowed to have it.”
“Can’t you just record it?”
“And be spoiled by all the people on Twitter, I don’t think so.”
“What else is so important?” Niall asks. You give him a telling look and he starts laughing. “Keep it in your pants mate!”
“That seems to be how it’s going to be this evening.”
You and Niall decide to just text each other during the episode so Harry is slightly less annoyed. He grabbed his laptop and put his headphones in so he didn’t have to fully watch. He’d glance up at you when he’d hear you gasp or start laughing hysterically.
“What a dumb bitch!”
“Oh god, I really don’t like any of these girls.”
“Peter! You’re horny stop!”
Harry took his headphones off when he heard you say that. He looks at the screen and sees two people heavily making out.
“What in the fuck are you actually watching?”
“This is how The Bachelor is! This guy last season, he fucked this girl four times! Four times! He just wants to bone, I don’t know if he’s ready for marriage, I just don’t see it.”
“How long is this?”
“Usually it’s two hours, but because it’s the premiere, it’s three hours tonight. It’s live.”
“Three hours?!”
“You don’t have to stay up the whole time with me if you don’t want, babe.” It was already 9:30.
“No, I…”
“What?”
“I don’t wanna go to bed at a different time than you.” You turn to look at him.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think it’s good when couple’s go to bed at different times. Like, I could already be asleep when you come to bed. Then we wouldn’t really be able to enjoy a cuddle. What’s the fun in that?”
“My parents never went to bed at the same time, it’s a perfectly normal thing.”
“Yeah? Look at how well that turned out.” Both of your eyebrows raise in a snap, and you pause the TV.
“What the fuck did you just say to me? Are you telling me that because my parents didn’t go to bed at the same time that that’s why they aren’t together?”
“No, that’s not what I meant…that came out wrong.”
“Don’t know how else you could’ve meant it Harry.” You hit play on the TV and turn your attention back to it. “Maybe you should go to bed now.”
“Can’t go to bed with you mad at me.” You sigh heavily.
“Not mad.”
“Yeah you are, I just pissed ya off. I’m sorry, I-“
“I can’t fucking hear the TV! Please, I just want to watch this!”
“It’d a fuckin’ reality show! Fuck!” He slams his laptop shut and stands up. “Don’t worry I’ll leave you and Niall to you’re textin’.”
“Good, it’s all I wanted, thanks.” You say snappily.
“You know, you didn’t even say thanks for all the shit I had to do after work today.” He crosses his arms. You pause the TV again.
“Yes I did. I tried cooking you dinner, and then I fucked it up. I appreciate everything you did this evening, okay? Would you like a cookie to go along with the thank you? Perhaps another prize of some kind?”
“Note to self, never bother you again when this stupid fuckin’ show is on or else I’ll get bitched out.” He huffs.
“You literally just threw my parent’s separation in my fucking face because I want to stay up late! You’re being psychotic Harry, it’s one night that I’m not going to go to bed with you at the same time, fuck, you’re such a baby sometimes!”
What was happening right now? He knew he shouldn’t have said that, but now you were cutting deep.
“Psychotic? A baby?”
“Yup and yup. Did you ever stop to think maybe I had a stressful day, and maybe I was looking forward to watching my stupid fuckin’ show all day? I’m sorry, Harry, but you’re wrong. Now leave me alone.”
“I’m not bein’ psychotic.” He pouts.
“Oh my god!” You stand up and turn the TV off. You whip the remote on the couch and stomp off to the bedroom.
“What are you doin’?” He follows you to the bedroom.
“This is what you wanted right? I’m going to bed with you. I’ll just watch the rest during my lunch break tomorrow. Now I have to text Niall not to tell me who Peter’s sending home.” You were texting him furiously. You go into the bathroom and slam the door shut. You come back out after finish your routine and get into the bed.
“Now you’re going to bed upset with me.” He says sitting up in the bed.
“I can’t fucking win with you tonight!” You feel tears prick at your eyes. “Do you want me to go to sleep with you or not?!”
“I wanted to have sex earlier and you wanted to watch TV instead.” You grab the pillow behind you and scream into it, then set it back behind you.
“Harry, I didn’t feel like it.” His mouth forms into a straight line. He really couldn’t comprehend it.
“Because you wanted to watch another guy make out with over twenty women?” You pinch the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You sigh heavily again. “You’re exhausting, you really are. I’m here, in the bed with you, just like how you wanted.”
“S’not how I wanted.” You blink at him, and turn over. You grab your earbuds and plug them into your phone and put them in your ears. “What are you doin’?”
You don’t say anything, you put on one of your playlists, and start scrolling on your phone.
“Hello? Really, the silent treatment over something so stupid?”
You feel tears roll down your cheeks. You hear him groan and he turns the light off. He stays sitting up in bed with his arms crossed. He could faintly hear your music, but couldn’t quite make it out. He was acting like a baby. He was exhausted and you had denied him. He wanted attention, and you didn’t give it to him. He was wrong to have said that about your parents, but you’re not the only one to have parents that were split up. Although something tells Harry he grew up in a much happier home than you did. Great, now he feels terrible. He hears you sniffle. Fuck. He made you cry.
“Babe?” He places a hand on your hip.
“Go to bed, Harry.”
“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”
“Okay.” You switch your phone to your Hulu app so you can keep watching the show.
You went to bed with Harry, but he didn’t get his proper cuddle. He knew it was his fault. You fell asleep with your headphones in, and woke up with them tangled around you. You put them and your phone on your night table. It was around four in the morning. Harry was asleep facing you. You turn to face him. You felt bad about getting so worked up earlier in the night. You lightly brush his cheek with your hand, and snuggle up next to him.
You rest your forehead against his chest, and your hand on his hip. You feel his arm drape over you. You put one of your legs over his, and he moves his leg between yours.
“Hi.” He says opening his eyes.
“Hi…I hope you don’t think I think a TV show is more important than you.”
“No…I’m sorry about all of it. I shouldn’t have said that about your parents.”
“It’s alright.” You snuggle into him further.
“I know I can be kind of…needy sometimes. And I was bein’ cranky from just bein’ tired.”
“But I like how you are, I like when you want me. You’re so cute.”
“You called me a baby…” He pouts.
“I did…it’s not a lie, you are a baby, but you’re my baby.” You sigh into him. You feel him chuckle against you.
“Just don’t say it in such a mean way again.”
“Okay.”
He moves his hand and tilts your chin up so you look at him. You close your eyes and kiss him. He pulls you closer and deepens the kiss. You roll your hips against his thigh and groan into his mouth.
“Harry, please make love to me.” You whisper.
“Won’t you be too tired for work later?”
“Don’t care.”
You roll over onto your back and pull him with you. He kisses you again, and nips at your jaw and neck. He plants wet kisses on you while his hand roams between your legs. He rubs up and down your slit, getting you nice and wet. He pushes your legs apart as you give his hard cock a few quick pumps. You guide him in and he pushes inside. Your hands reach for his so you can intertwine your fingers. He rests them up above your head on either side your pillow. He slowly pumps in and out of you, and you wrap your legs around his waist. His thrusts were so and sloppy, and you were incredibly turned on. His head is buried in the crook of your neck.
“I hate when we fight.” You say into his year.
“Me too.”
“I love you so much, Harry.”
“I love you too. I’m sorry I was an asshole.” He grits is teeth when you start to move your hips along with his rhythm.
“I’m sorry I acted like a brat.”
He presses up hard into you, and stops moving so you can just grind back and forth on him. You squeeze your hands tightly on his as you feel your stomach start to tighten.
“Ah, fuck, Harry, Harry, shit!” Your release comes and he presses harder into you as you ride it out. You were full on panting. You tighten around him to hold on to your orgasm as long as you can.
“You like when I do that?”
“Yes, feels so good. Love the way I can really feel how hard you are.”
He bites down on your neck and your back arches. His hands tighten around yours as he thrusts in and out of you, chasing his own release. Every moan and groan that leaves his lips and goes into your year sends you. You feel your legs start to shake, and you come at the same time as him. He collapses on top of you and lets go of your hands. You go right for his hair and play with. He slowly pulls out of you and moves to lay on his side facing you. It was around 4:45 in the morning. You sigh and decide to just get up and shower. He grabs onto your hips and you giggle as he pulls your back to his chest.
“I need to pee.”
“Just stay and cuddle a minute, I didn’t go down on ya so you don’t need to be paranoid like ya usually are.” He nuzzles into your hair.
“Alright.” You feel your eyes flutter closed, but they soon open back up when you hear your alarm go off. You get up and turn it off. You groan as you shuffle into the bathroom to take a shower.
You were just washing your hair when you heard the door click open and the curtain shuffle open. Harry steps into the shower as you scrub the rest of the shampoo out of your hair. He waits for you to finish and you step aside to let him step into the water. He looks up at the shower head.
“Ever use tha’ before?” His voice was still raspy from the sleep and the sex. It was so sexy.
“Use what babe?”
“The shower head?” You blink at him, confused.
“You just saw me use it to wash my hair.”
“Not there, there.” He points to your crotch and your cheeks flush.
“Harry, I do not have time for this, I-“
“Just answer the question.”
“No I have not used my showerhead on to get off.”
“Would you like to?”
“Harry, out of all the time we’ve taken a shower together, why are you doing this now? I don’t want to rush to work?”
“It’s not even six yet, you have plenty of time.”
“But, I’ll need to blow dry my hair, and-“
“You didn’t answer my question.” He crosses his arms.
“Would I like to use it to get off? No, not really. Why are you offering to do it for me?” He grins at you and nods. “You just got me off, I’m good for the morning.”
“Good for the mornin’?” He chuckles. “You’re funny. C’mere.”
“Harry…”
“If you’re late to work I give you full permission to be mad at me all day and I won’t make a fuss of it, now.” He grabs your shoulders and moves you. He takes the shower head down and moves towards you.
You nearly ripped the shower curtain off the rod as you had one of the most intense orgasms ever. You thought using a showerhead was only something that worked in movies or porn. The way Harry maneuvered it was astounding. You got out of the shower and left him in there to do his thing. You put a simple outfit together, and started to dry your hair just as Harry was getting out of the shower. He punched your bum as he walked into the bedroom. He went into the kitchen to make a smoothie for the both of you. You end up only partially drying your hair. You braid back some of it and get it all in a ponytail. You put on some make up quickly and walk quickly into the kitchen. You smile when you see the smoothie.
“Mm, thank you.” You say as you take a sip. Harry wraps his arms around you and kisses you tenderly. “I really need to go. It’s my day to get coffee.”
“When did this little tradition of your start?”
“Pretty much when I first started. We both realized we were going to the same coffee shop, so we just started taking turns.” You shrug. You kiss him one more time.
“Do ya ever wanna play hooky?”
“Oh no, no, no.” You step away from him. “You’ve had enough influence over me today. I’m saving my vacation days for the move, remember? Another ten days and we’ll have a whole week off together in our new place.” You grab your smoothie and keys. “I’ll be home late, therapy session today.”
“Alright, have a good day, love you.”
“Love you too, baby.”
//
You get to work on time, somehow, and give Niall his coffee. He pulls you into his office quickly.
“What?”
“Your neck! Did you forget a scarf?” Your eyes grow wide and you take out your phone to look. You clamp your hand over the spot.
“Shit! I didn’t even notice. It happened really early this morning.”
“I have one you can wear, but it might look goofy.”
“I’ll try it. I don’t even have makeup with me to cover it up.” You groan. “Maybe I am getting too old for this.” He chuckles and hands you the scarf he wears with his jacket.
“Thanks, this’ll work fine.” You wrap it around your neck.
“Early mornin’ romp?” He smirks.
“Maybe.” You giggle. “We had a little fight last night, and we went to bed upset.”
“Oh yeah, you mentioned that when ya texted me. Did you see the rest of the episode?”
“Yes! So dramatic.”
“As always.”
“I was texting the girls too. We should all get together to watch it.”
“Great idea! Everyone can come to my place Monday.”
“I can’t wait to move and have a few days off to unpack.”
“You know if you need a couple days to work from home this week, I’m sure that would be fine. You’ve got a lot goin’ on with the move, class, and Harry’s birthday this weekend. Where are ya takin’ him again?”
“To where we went on our first date.”
“Oh my god, he’s gonne die.”
“I know! I can’t wait to take him out.”
//
Harry was sitting in a staff meeting, trying his hardest not to fall asleep. It’s not that he was bored, he was just genuinely tired.
“H, you could look a little more interested, you know?” His supervisor Christin says.
“Hm? Sorry, I had a long night.”
“Well perk up. You could at least act to be happy that we’re sending you down to Florida in the middle of winter.”
“I’m sorry what? I…I thought I wasn’t travelin’ much anymore.”
“Sorry, H, but I need you on this one. The assignment’s in the folder I handed out.” He looks around to everyone.
“When do I leave?” He sighs.
“In two weeks.”
“See, the thing is, I’m in the middle of movin’, and I had some vacation time put in-“
“We’re giving it back to you, and you can use it at another time.”
“Is there any particular reason I can’t go, and Harry can stay here?” Mariah asks.
“I need you hear on another assignment.”
“But, Harry really doesn’t want to travel. Him and his girlfriend-“
“Mariah, I don’t need to know about Harry’s personal life, neither does anyone else in this room. Harry, I know it’s not ideal, but I need you on this.”
“How long am I gone for?”
“About a week.” His heart sinks into his stomach. He just wanted to have the time off with you. And the thought of you spending the first night in your new place alone crushed him. He thought he was going to be sick. Everyone could see it on his face, except Christin.
“Okay.” He says looking down.
“H, listen, you’re going to be in Florida, try to perk up, hm?”
“Yeah.” He was biting the inside of his cheek, he needed to get out of there.
After the meeting he went right to his office and looked over the full assignment. He was actually going to be taking pictures of some really cool vegetation, the timing was just terrible. He wondered if he could ask to bring you with him, but he was sure that wouldn’t go over well. He could always pay for a plane ticket for you. He was so frustrated. He put his face in his hands at he started crying. Isaac noticed what was happening and made a call.
//
“Hi Trish, what’s up?”
“There’s a man on the phone for you from Plant Geo, his name is Isaac, do you want me to transfer him?” You’re slightly confused, and a little concerned.
“Um, yeah.” You wait a moment for the transfer to go through. “Hello?”
“Hi…Y/N?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Isaac, I work reception at Plant Geo.”
“Yes, I know. Is everything okay?”
“I think Harry could use you. He just got an assignment and he’s not taking it well.”
“Oh no! What kind of assignment?”
“I think they’re making him travel somewhere. He’s, um, crying.”
“Oh god, okay…um…I’m there. Thank you. How did you find my office number?”
“He’s mentioned where you worked before, just tried my luck with Google.”
You hang up and run down to Niall’s office.
“I’m taking an early lunch, something came up.”
“Everythin’ alright?”
“I’m not sure yet, I’ll keep you updated.”
You sprint down to your car and speed over to Harry’s studio. You get there in about twenty minutes. Harry had calmed down a little, but his eyes were red and puffy as he began working. Everyone knew to leave him alone. You park and get up the elevator. You wave to Isaac as you go right for Harry’s office. You don’t knock you just go right in.
“Oi, it’s polite to knock.” He looks over at you, and his face completely changes.
“Sorry ‘bout that Mr. Styles, I won’t do it again.” You give him a small smile. “What’s wrong baby?” You sit on his desk.
“How did you? I’m so confused.”
“Isaac called me at work, he said you were upset.” Harry looks over in Isaac’s direction.
“Tattle tale.” He sighs and looks at you. “I have to go to Florida the same week we were supposed to have off together.” He starts sniffling. “And I’m upset because I can’t stand the thought of you there all by yourself when we were supposed to be unpackin’ together.” He buries his head in your stomach and you stroke his hair.
“Harry, honey, it’s okay. I understand.” You try to soothe him as best you can. “You don’t need to feel bad. Maybe I can fly down too, what part of Florida are you going to?”
“Um.” He lifts his head and looks at the papers in the folder. “Near Port St. Lucie, I’ll be near the manatee habitat.”
“Hmm, on the east coast. Well, I could fly down and spend a few days with Nannie, and then I could come meet you or you could come to us.”
“But what about us unpacking and gettin’ everything together?”
“Harry, we can still fully move in when we planned to. And I don’t mind unpacking a bit without you.”
“But…I’ll miss our first night together there.”
“I’ll leave for Florida when you do.” You shrug.
“But the last minute ticket will be really expensive.”
“I can afford it. I have the time off already anyways, and getting out of the cold sounds nice. It’s nothing to be upset over.” You run your thumbs over his cheeks to wipe his tears away.
“You don’t mind that things are gettin’ a little messed up?”
“It’s not ideal timing, but I’ll take any excuse to go visit my grandmother.”
“Where’s she again?”
“On the west coast, in North Port. Only a couple hours from where you’ll be.”
He stands up and wraps his arms around you. You hug him close to you and just stand there hugging.
“You’re amazing, thank you for being so flexible.”
“Of course.” You kiss him on the cheek. “Don’t get mad at Isaac, I’m glad he called.”
“I would’ve just come to see you in a couple hours.”
“Yeah, but you would’ve been upset for that much longer.”
Christin comes walking over to Harry’s office.
“What the hell is going on?” You whip your head around to look at the woman.
“Christin, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”
“Didn’t realize it was social hour.” She crosses her arms.
“Sorry, it was my fault, um, I grabbed something of his by accident this morning and I needed to drop it off.” You smile at her. “I’ll see you tonight, Harry.” You give his hand a squeeze and leave his office. You nod at Isaac on your way out.
“Heard she’s been coming around here a lot.”
“Only on lunch breaks, and it’s been like two times.” He crosses his arms at well. “Did you need somethin’?”
“We need to go over Florida.”
“We?”
“Yeah, I’m going too.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m your supervisor and I’m supervising the assignment.”
“Are your kids comin’ too?”
“I’m going to have my husband take the girls to Orlando and I plan to meet them there later on.”
“How nice for you.”
“Harry, if you hate it here so much, why don’t you quit?”
“I don’t hate it here, I just hate travelin’.”
“You used to love it.”
“People change, I don’t like it anymore.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Nothing specific.” He shrugs. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine, this is just a sort of stressful time. You could act a little more sympathetic ya know. There is such a thing as work-life balance.”
“You’re right, I didn’t mean to be insensitive. As long as I’ve known you, you never really had someone in your life you seemed to care about so much…I didn’t realize how serious this was.”
“I don’t exactly go around spilling my nonsense around. Her grandmother lives in Florida, she’s going to try to find a flight to go down there too and then we’re going to meet up.”
“That’ll be nice.”
//
“Well at least they’re not makin’ him go this weekend.” Niall says, diving into his lunch.
“I know…he was acting like it was the end of world. It’s really not a big deal.”
“He probably just felt like he was lettin’ ya down. It’s good you were able to get over there,”
“His supervisor wasn’t thrilled to see me.”
“Christin can be kind of shrill…I think she forgets what it’s like to be young sometimes.”
“She didn’t seem that much older.”
“She’s like thirty-five.”
“Ah.”
“Do you think you’ll need some extra vacation time?”
“Depends on the flights I’m able to book. I’m secretly kind of happy, I can’t wait to call Nannie to tell her.”
“She’s gonna be so happy to see you. So when will you guys actually move?”
“The plan was to be fully out of my place by next weekend, and then spend the week unpacking. He was really torn up about me sleeping there alone.” Niall’s face falls.
“That wouldn’t upset you?”
“Well, it’s not ideal, but it is what it is. He and I will be able to unpack and set up pretty easily since all of the boxes are clearly labeled.”
“Was your family plannin’ to help too?”
“My brother is coming with his truck, and my mom said she could help unpack the kitchen, so I’m really not worried about it. Just need to book flights now. Hopefully it won’t be too expensive with it being sort of last minute.”
“I have plenty of miles built up if-“
“Save them, please. Very kind of you though.” You smile at him. You sigh. “Do you think Harry will ever just freelance full time like Louis does?”
“No idea. I know he wants to do it eventually, but there’s so much uncertainty. His busy seasons are great, but when it’s slow, it’s slow. He’d have to do a lot to really keep the business goin’, he’d have to lease a studio space.”
“Our loft could easily be set up as a home studio.”
“Yeah, maybe for small projects, but do you really want a ton of strangers comin’ in and out?”
“Good point.”
“Real-estate isn’t cheap in this area. He’d need to put together a whole business plan, not that he doesn’t know how to do that.”
“He just seems to no enjoy his work.”
“He enjoys the work, just not the people.”
“It sucks how the people you work with can make you hate what you’re passionate about. It shouldn’t be that way. You and I are so lucky we have each other.”
“Grateful for it every day.”
//
You can’t wait to get home to Harry after your appointment with Dr. Mara. It was a great session. When you walk in, Harry was packing boxes according to your very specific list.
“Hi baby.” He turns around to look at you.
“Hey.” He comes over and wraps his arms around you.
“Feeling better?”
“Yeah, thanks.” He kisses your cheek. “He was Dr. Mara?”
“Good! She says hi.” You giggle and let go of him. “What do you feel like eating tonight?” You ask, walking into the kitchen. He follows you and sits at the island. “Well? I’ll make whatever you want.”
“Really only one thing I’d like to eat right now.” He rests his chin on his palm.
“Okay, well if it’s takeout that’s fine. I can pick up whatever.” You weren’t picking up on what he was putting down. He sighs. “What?”
“Babe.” He gives you his bedroom eyes and your face flushes immediately.
“Oh!” You look at him and then the fridge. “Okay, but I’m legitimately hungry…”
“We can have food after.”
“Okay.” He perks up. “Where do you want me?”
“Take your pants off and go lay on the sofa.”
You do as he says. He comes over to you, and just admire your body. His thumbs spread you apart, and your hips buck up when you first feel his tongue on you. You felt bad, you should be the one tasting him, but he wanted to forget about everything and get lost in you. You feel yourself get even more turned on when you hear him groan against you. His tongue licks a flat stipe up your center, and then he lick up into you. Your hands grasp at his hair.
“Fuck.” You gasp as he swirls his tongue around inside you.
His thumb moves up to your clit and rubs slow circles on it. He was taking his time with you. That was the thing about Harry, he knew how to get you off quick, and he knew how to move at an agonizingly slow pace to get you there just the same. This was one of those time where he just wanted to savor every last bit of you. You looked down to see him nose deep, and totally in another state of mind. He pressed harder on your clit as he rubbed on it and you started to grind against his tongue.
“Feels so good babe.” You moan, throwing your head back. His free hand presses down on your stomach adding to the pressure of it all. “Harry.” You start panting his name. “Harry.” It’s music to his ears. If he could hear one sound for the rest of his life, it would be this. “Harry!”
Everything goes white for a moment, and stars come into your vision. He doesn’t let up though, he continues to suck on you. He gulped up every last bit of your release, and was hoping to give you another one until your phone rang. You saw it was your Nannie.
“Harry, fuck, I need to answer that.” He slowly lifts from between your legs and sighs. You clear your throat before answering. “Hi Nannie!”
“Hi precious girl, I got your message.”
“Will that week work for you? I know it’s short notice.”
“Nannie’s actually going to have company for a few days that week, so I don’t think it’ll work. But, if you wanna come the week after?” Your face falls.
“That won’t work, I only have this particular week off…”
“I’m sorry baby, your cousin and his kids are coming to visit, it’s their school vacation.”
“That’s alright, I’m glad they’ll get to see you.”
“Maybe you could come to Aruba again this year.”
“I didn’t think you had fully committed to going.” You perk up.
“I decided a little while ago. You should come if you can, I think your mom is planning on it too.”
“It’ll be just like last year! Okay, I’ll talk to mom. I’d need to book that like now.”
“Yeah, the airfares are decent now, I can text you the dates.”
“Okay! This’ll be so much fun, I’m looking forward to it.”
“Sorry we won’t see each other this month.”
“It’s okay, really. Aruba sounds amazing right now anyways.”
“Okay sweetie, well I need to go, but I love you.”
“Love you too!” You sigh and look at Harry. “So…I’m not going to Florida, I’m sorry. My cousins are visiting with her that week.”
“You could come with me, and stay at my hotel.” You put your hand on his shoulder.
“Harry, I would be bored out of my mind while you worked all day. It’s really short notice, I’ll just stay here.”
“What was that about Aruba?”
“She’s going again this April, and she wants me to come, so I think I will. It’s so much fun.” You stand up and pull your underwear and pants back on. “It’s not the end of the world. I won’t unpack anything you don’t want me to.”
“That’s not the point.” He sighs.
“I know. Sometimes we can’t always get what we want though, babe. Besides, it’ll be nice for us to miss each other a little, don’t you think.” You go over to the fridge and take out some carrot sticks to munch on.
“I miss you enough during the day as it is.” He pouts.
“Harry…”
“I know, I’m actin’ like a baby.”
“It’s only a week. We can FaceTime every night if you want. I can walk you through the apartment, and we can leave our phones on until we fall asleep. You can even still read to me if you want.”
“Do you have enough vacation time to go away in April?”
“Yeah, I have plenty.”
“My family is probably comin’ in April for Easter.”
“That’s usually when we’re in Aruba.”
“Will you have enough vacation time for the summer? I want you to come back to England with me for a couple of weeks.”
“Yeah I should have enough. Besides, they’d probably let me flex time if I didn’t have enough. I could just work remotely over there.”
“How do you stay so calm about all this?”
“In the grand scheme it’s not a big deal.” You shrug, chomping on another carrot. “I’ll miss seeing your mom and Gemma when they come. But at least we’ll have a nice guest space for them!” You say cheerily.
“Suppose you’re right. C’mon, can’t have eatin’ carrots for dinner. How bout I make us some soup?”
“You’ve had a long day. Why don’t I make dinner, and you go play a video game or something?”
“That’d be great, some of my friends might be online.” You give him a quick kiss and get to work.
You had heard someone jokingly say once that your boyfriend or husband was essentially your first baby. You always that that was a weird thing to say because a man should be able to take care of himself. But today Harry literally felt like your baby. You felt this overwhelming need to protect him at all costs, and you knew you’d pounce on anyone what tried to hurt him.
“Oh Harry!”
“Yeah babe?” He says from the couch.
“After dinner, I’d like to return the favor.” You wink at him.
“Best kind of dessert there is, isn’t it?”
#harry styles#take it slow#harry styles x reader#harry styles y/n#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles smut#harry styles imagine#fluff#smut#angst#harry styles fluff fic#harry styles smut fic#this was long for like no reason sorry#the next part is really good im excited
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Masterpost: answering a single anon in a single post
So. I wasn’t going to answer asks today but frankly, considering what I should be writing I’d rather answer asks, might actually get a laugh out of it. Most of all, because of what I intend to answer here.
To spare y’all from the pain and annoyance of having to read through any of my answers to we-know-who, I’m going to do it differently this time. All in one post. Because frankly, filling my blog with their TWENTY asks, no less (and it’s official this time, used to be sixteen but then I reblogged that post about conflict in stories and they went wild, as usual) isn’t worth anyone’s time. Hell, it’s not even worth mine, but procrastination is overpowering.
Here we go. If you’re not the anon in question and still want to read this, I hope you have fun.
This is a free world. That means multiple things some people can’t seem to accept. One such thing is that people have no obligation to even interact with each other, let alone to do what others demand of them, especially when they don’t want to. The fact is, being harassed (because, yes, there’s no other word for it) by someone has been a pretty irritating and stressful thing for me, to the point where it has impacted my ability to write...
And the harasser doesn’t give a single fuck about it and just keeps going :’)
With such introduction, I decide to engage my least favorite person in this site once again because clearly, ignoring them, blocking them, closing asks, deleting and rewriting reviews, is still not enough to get across the message that reiterating an opinion a million times doesn’t automatically make it more valid. So let’s see just what’s going on with this very much desperate person who apparently can’t stop seeking my attention:
First of all, I asked this person, point-blank, to address their asks, if they would continue sending them, to my main blog. Let’s see how that request turned out:
Oh my, astonishing! They sent it to Gladiator’s blog instead! And what a bigger shock: they’re, as usual, trying to control and direct what I write and how I write it. While sprinkling empty compliments that don’t mean a thing, such as claiming RESPECT for me and my work when every single ask they’ve sent is an outright disrespectful act against me, considering how many times I’ve requested, directly, that they stop this, and how many times they’ve ignored me. It even is extra poignant considering my request for them to send asks to my main blog instead, and yet they deliberately sent it to Gladiator’s blog. This is what RESPECT looks like, in this anon’s head. Fascinating stuff, isn’t it?
And then comes the mad onslaught that left me facedesking for days:
... I mean. Can someone please read this and tell me the person on the other side, with their vague condition, whatever it may be, has any idea what an apology even MEANS?
For someone who’s so obsessed with alleged consistency, you’re damn bad at it yourself, Anon. You can’t send four asks in a row, to the WRONG BLOG, demanding for explanations you don’t even care to read, because every single time I’ve taken your whining seriously you’ve disregarded all my responses and gone right back to the same BS as before, and THEN pretend you’re here TO APOLOGIZE.
You don’t feel any remorse. To this day, you don’t even KNOW what you did wrong. This is NOT expressing yourself: THIS IS HARASSMENT. Need me to define the word for you to understand what it means, seeing as it’s becoming abundantly clear your reading and interpretation skills are not the greatest?
Definitions of harassment:
1. (n) the act of tormenting by continued persistent attacks and criticism 2. (n) a feeling of intense annoyance caused by being tormented
I’ve said it before: PEOPLE HAVE HAD COMPLAINTS ABOUT THIS STORY, FAR MORE VALID THAN YOURS, AND I’VE NEVER REACTED THIS WAY. Care to guess why?
Because you NEVER stop. Because you keep going, constantly, never slowing down to think YOUR behavior is affecting a REAL LIFE HUMAN BEING. You’re obsessing over what happens in a fictional story that, by the way, is a fanfic, ergo, it obeys certain rules that general fiction does not. Among such rules is abiding by ORIGINAL characterization to a certain extent, and that means, hahaha, that Azula ISN’T an experienced character in any social or romantic situations because she ISN’T in canon, and there was no reason to change that, especially considering the worldbuilding I crafted, which makes it CRUCIAL for Azula to be careful with her virtue, despite she doesn’t want to be and realizes the whole notion of female virginal purity is absolute BULLSHIT.
But why am I explaining anything anyway? You won’t understand it, because you don’t want to. You claim, constantly, that you’re asking things OUT OF CURIOSITY, as if that makes ANYTHING better, when the truth is you’re just here to impose your cursed opinions on everyone else, especially me, and pretend you somehow own this fic and ship and your demands mean more than anyone else’s. Meanwhile, oh, I understand you PERFECTLY: you don’t want Sokka to ever have any experiences with any other women because you only believe in pure, untainted love of virgins who wait for each other and don’t ever make mistakes or are forced into unwanted situations. Because, again, you can’t understand that those sorts of things CAN happen. Because you don’t see there’s nuance to human beings, nuance I attempt to capture through my characters too.
I said it semi-jokingly, back in my past answers, now I say it directly: IF YOU CAN’T STOMACH THESE SITUATIONS AND CAN’T ACCEPT THEM, THIS STORY IS NOT FOR YOU.
An M-rated story doesn’t owe you any apologies for being what it is. An M-rated story, at the end of the day, is a STORY. You are a human being who should be capable of controlling not only your impulses but your reactions to things, at least to some degree, and yet you refuse to. You, in fact, continue to prove you CAN’T control yourself in the least because hey, just now, halfway through writing this post? I got THREE MORE ASKS by you. No less than three. And you finished them off, again, with a pretense that you’re going to stop pestering me...
... But hey. You said that at the end of the last ask I pasted up there. Hmm. And yet...
You came back, over and over and over again? :’)
RIGHT ON ALL ACCOUNTS! So... how do TWENTY ASKS, after claims that you’d finally stop, count as “regret”? You’re not changing at all, anon, because YOU DON’T WANT TO. You don’t, to this day, see what you did wrong. You don’t get it. And you won’t get it. So how about we just keep going with the next four?
Oh! But hey, you actually switched blogs this time. Super sweet of you to finally listen to ONE thing I said. Very nice.
I’ll just point out: I received the last NINE asks I’ve pasted here in a SINGLE DAY.
Nine. In one day.
I only ever got that many asks in a single go during review parties (admittedly, there were more than that, but still). The fact that you felt the need to send me NINE ASKS, to beg for forgiveness with a completely dishonest apology, is all the proof of harassment anyone could possibly ask for, right? If you weren’t an anon and at least had the GUTS to own up to your opinions, which you seem to consider absolutely sacred and completely correct, you’d have never gotten away with this. Ergo why you don’t have those guts, and why you keep sending anon reviews and asks too.
The fact that you’re so obsessed with this problem, to the point of believing Sokka’s best sex was with JUNE? We’ve literally finished an entire arc of Sokka and Azula banging across the Fire Nation with no restraint, with the two of them repeatedly remarking this is the best time they’ve ever had, and you’re so completely obsessed with this problem that you apparently think Sokka angrily fucking someone WHILE DECEIVING HIMSELF INTO THINKING IT WAS SOMEONE ELSE is... better? Are you FOR REAL? Are you seriously THAT BAD at reading?
Please, click here. I can’t even stand it anymore. It’s not even for my own sake but yours. You need it.
Also... you’re projecting so bad. Like, so bad. June’s teasing in that chapter is 100% intended to piss them off. The fact that she starts asking for Azula to lend her her “second boyfriend”, AKA Rui Shi, should tell you just how much stock June puts in what happened between her and Sokka: SHE DOESN’T GIVE A DAMN. She’s honestly more entertained by pissing off Azula as a consequence of it than over the sex she had with Sokka, especially considering she even lost her temper with him after he started apologizing in 28. You’re so completely beside yourself you can’t see ANYTHING clearly?
If you REALLY need it spelled out, no, Sokka wasn’t June’s best sex. June has probably done anyone and everyone she ever wanted to, and chances are she absolutely found someone, or several someones, who actually wanted HER, for HER, just as much as she may have wanted them. And that, you insecure mess of a human being, would absolutely make for a much better lay than what she got with Sokka. Why don’t I outright state this in the story, you’ll ask? Because despite what you may believe, this story ISN’T a love triangle between Azula, Sokka and June! Oh my, the horror! We’ve literally spent 198 chapters building up the story and developing Azula and Sokka’s relationship but the ONE TIME encounter with June apparently makes her that pivotal for your whole existence?
Dude, I literally don’t look at 28 AT ALL these days, because I don’t care to. Because even when I wrote it, it hurt me so bad having written it that I was crazy about getting to everything else so I could put it behind me. Whenever I reference it, I do the same way I reference ANYTHING ELSE. The only person who seems to think I’m doing it to further torture anyone IS YOU.
And yes, did I just say it hurt me too? Oh, my, what a SHOCKER! The fact is, that scene is only as intense as it is because I literally couldn’t bring myself to write it. It wasn’t until it came to mind that Sokka COULD imagine Azula in June’s place that I finally found the way to do it: it wasn’t just Sokka imagining Azula instead, it was ME. Because if it had been anything else? I wouldn’t have been able to write it at all. I basically wrote it as hatesex Sokkla because I NEEDED to in order to write it. “THEN WHY DID YOU EVEN WRITE IT?!?!?”, you’ll scream, I’m sure: BECAUSE I TREAT MY CHARACTERS AS HUMAN BEINGS WHO MAKE MISTAKES AND DO THINGS THEY SHOULDN’T HAVE. BECAUSE SOKKA WAS IN A DARK PLACE AND DIDN’T UNDERSTAND WHAT AZULA WAS FEELING OR THINKING. BECAUSE AZULA WAS IMPULSIVE AND CONTROLLING AND COULDN’T REALIZE THAT THE MORE SHE TRIED TO FORCE SOKKA TO BEND TO HER WILL, THE MORE HE WOULD TRY TO BREAK FREE.
But all this is clearly too complex for you. Can’t even fathom understanding anything remotely close to characterization and conflict within relationships, no. You’re something else entirely.
And so, we move on to the post-apology Anon: you DO realize that forgiveness is something earned? I mean, it’s kinda funny because Sokka actually earned his own. He spent ages working for it, and even AFTER Azula told him he was forgiven, he still feels so bad about having hurt her that, to this day, he regrets it. Being FORGIVEN was not a condition for him to feel remorse. He regretted his actions because HE KNEW THEY WERE WRONG. Because he’s an actual, decent human being who, when faced with a catastrophic mistake, actually wants to amend it and wishes he had acted differently despite he can’t take anything back anymore.
But you? You can’t even begin to understand what regret means. I guess another dictionary definition would help?
Definitions of regret
1. (v) feel remorse for; feel sorry for; be contrite about
2. (v) feel sad about the loss or absence of
3. (v) express with regret
4. (v) decline formally or politely
5. (n) sadness associated with some wrong done or some disappointment
So, your attempts to beg for forgiveness fall completely flat. And I say it in plural, ATTEMPTS, because in case you think I’m daft and forgot your old reviews and asks, I didn’t: THIS ISN’T YOUR FIRST ATTEMPT TO APOLOGIZE FOR THIS BULLSHIT. I thought I should clarify that, because heh, you have claimed you won’t come back, you have claimed you’re sorry, you have said many platitudes in the past that actually had no meaning... and I could tell they didn’t, which is why I never answered them. Because there was no way someone who had exhibited such obsessive behavior would actually control themselves and get over their issues after MONTHS of persistent harassment.
And so, you didn’t disappoint, because I had zero expectations that you’d actually abide by your apologies. Empty apologies, again, because to this moment you don’t even know what you did wrong. You don’t get it. To put it in the way I did for someone else who talked to me about this mess:
You could be complaining to me about something else entirely. You could be here, demanding that I explain why I’ve been writing Sokka killing people, for instance. You could be disregarding all sense, reason, historical precedents and what-have-you as to why a warmongering, canonically genocidal nation like the Fire Nation would ever have a system like the Gladiator League and enslave other cultures to do their bidding.
And if you came back with those complaints PERSISTENTLY, FOR A YEAR, I’D BE JUST AS ANGRY AS I AM NOW.
It’s NOT about the situation you’re throwing a fit over. It’s NOT about me having it out for you. It’s about YOU not knowing limits or boundaries, going as far as you constantly, consistently have, ever seeking to twist my story into whatever warped, fucked up perception you’ve developed over it, without ever slowing down to think that your actions and your behavior are affecting someone else. I’m not just a rambling robot who can’t seem to stop talking or writing or whatever you may think I am: I’m an actual person with a FUCKLOAD of problems, who literally just had the WORST year of her life, and you just decided to continue adding to the pile, never slowing down to consider that your feelings, and your opinions, and your pain, does NOT invalidate other people’s, let alone does it make you EXEMPT of hurting others. Which, heh, if you knew how to read, you could’ve even LEARNED this from Gladiator! :’D
Because Azula, so hurt as she was, took to hurting Sokka too, in many, many ways. And Sokka, once he understood how wrongly he had judged Azula, simply let her hurt him because he thought he deserved everything she threw at him. Later on? Azula realizes all the pain she caused Sokka COULD have led him to choose the White Lotus over her. She’s in a life-or-death situation, unable to fight back, and the ONLY reason she doesn’t get screwed over and captured by the enemy is because Sokka decides she matters more to him than joining forces with sketchy people who are out for revenge. But what if she’d hurt him more than she had? What if she’d done WORSE than she did? Maybe he would’ve been so hurt too that, at this point, he would’ve chosen the White Lotus and not only abandoned her but handed her over to her nation’s enemies! :’) oh, the horror. Is it really that unthinkable? Why, it’s not to me. And why not? Because if Azula had been as unforgiving and unyielding as you are, if she had been so obsessive over whatever caused her pain and refused to move on... this story would SUCK. BADLY.
Makes you wonder what that says about your mentality, doesn’t it?
Alas, after all this digression as to why your behavior is absolutely appalling to me, let’s see what you did indeed, right after your absolutely shallow apology that was obviously not sincere, because you don’t regret having bothered me at all, you just regret that I won’t abide by your whining...
Is THIS what an apologetic, remorseful person looks like? Really, now? Honestly, if Sokka were half as bad as you are, he would’ve slept with half the Fire Nation by now while constantly coming back to Azula like “Oh woops did it again, sorry!”
Yes, I can honestly make the link pretty easily. Must be why you keep assuming he’ll ever be with someone else, because if you were in his place, you would do exactly that :’) beautiful how things just come full circle, isn’t it?
That ask came as a response to another, potentially ill-intended one, potentially sent by you too. An ask I answered with a whole list of unique things Sokka has done for Azula. Not only did you NOT understand the list’s purpose despite you may have even been the one to ask for it... but you took a line directly referencing OBVIOUS events like chapters 64, 69 and 93, moments in which Azula either put a stop to opportunities where she and Sokka might have ended up going too far, and he accepted it without complaint... or Sokka himself put a stop to them, KNOWING that Azula would be taking a huge risk if she gave herself to him completely as she does from 97 onwards. That you literally took something that was SO VERY OBVIOUS, and twisted it into chapter 28 again speaks LENGTHS of how absolutely messed up your perception and interpretation of this whole story is. You have issues. Serious issues. And I’m not saying this just to be an ass, I’m saying it because it’s clear as day that if you CAN’T stop linking absolutely everything I say or do to chapter 28, whether it’s being referenced or not (and in this case, it was NOT), the problem isn’t me, IT’S YOU.
And here we go again. You are actually trying to POLICE the Sokkla fandom at this point? An ANON? And hey, you returned to the Gladiator blog! Which means you were so pissed that I didn’t answer your previous asks and your phony apology because I KNEW you’d come back that even your teeny, tiny behavioral correction was pulled back because you were MAD. And you HAD TO MAKE YOUR OPINIONS KNOWN, AGAIN.
Do tell, are you the same ass who harassed a pretty new friend I’ve made in this fandom? An honestly solid writer who happens to feature Sokka having other, prior relationships to Azula because, haha, if you work with CANON settings, that’s basically guaranteed since Sokka already has canon relationships before even knowing Azula exists? And then, even if in those experiences Sokka ends up going “... I bet it’d be better with Azula”, you STILL take this as a slight and you consider it a reason to go around harassing writers and potentially even THREATENING to report their content because you’re mad that Sokka isn’t exclusively Azula’s in every single story you pick up?
The worst part is, I actually wrote at least 2 stories in my Saturdays’ oneshots where Azula and Sokka are each other’s first everything, absolutely so. And I got nothing from you for it, not even a teeny tiny “HEY THANK YOU YOU FINALLY WROTE WHAT I WANTED TO SEE!”. No, you only come out of your hole to ATTACK writers. To tell us what to do when you think we’re not doing it right. As if you had the SLIGHTEST right to tell ANYONE what to do.
I literally have been here for EIGHT YEARS. I’ve been creating content for this ship for that long, when nobody else was anymore. I won’t take credit for the ship’s rise in popularity, despite yes, it’s far from a major ship no matter how far we’ve come... but my story didn’t reach the heights it has out of sheer dumb luck. I worked my ass off with Gladiator in every way I could to make it a story of the scope and depth it deserved to be, and the fact that people who didn’t even ship Sokkla were interested in reading the story all the same has always been something I take pride on. A ton of multishippers read this story, and support Sokkla too: neither you nor ANYONE has any right to demand or claim or pretend that someone else has no right to be part of this fandom or to set guidelines as to what their content should be. There’s LITERAL stories out there of Sokka having a goddamn HAREM, just so you know, with Azula included amongst the women involved in it... and you’re here, throwing a fit over people featuring Sokka having one-time encounters and brief relationships with other girls before committing completely to Azula.
I’ve been here, working my ass off for Sokkla, not only in writing but literally developing my art skills to the best of my ability so I could ONE DAY create the visuals and images these two evoked for me...
And yet I don’t feel I have any right to tell ANYONE how to make their content.
If there was a set number of words in fics or artworks someone needed to make for a ship to prove themselves worthy of obtaining the skill of GATEKEEPING, I am 100% positive I have more than outdone that limit.
And yet I DON’T play gatekeeper. I NEVER have, and I NEVER will. People can create whatever they want to create, whether I enjoy it or not is up to me, and if I DON’T enjoy it, I DON’T read it. If there’s Sokkla content out there I can’t even STOMACH? I would ignore it and move on with my life. You? You make it your whole life’s crusade to attack people over anything that tickles you wrong. That’s how it works, isn’t it?
Unless you’re planning on pulling a Scooby-Doo-esque twist where you remove your mask and reveal you were a known Sokkla fan and content creator all along, which I find ABSOLUTELY unlikely, then this means you haven’t done anything, ANYTHING, for this fandom beyond sending anonymous harassment to people who are actually taking time out of their lives to create content for this ship. The main reaction I’ve seen at you from ANY of us, whether anons like yourself or actual content creators like myself, is that you have too much time on your hands and need a better hobby. And I agree, completely.
So, where people like me and my fellow Sokkla creators are actually making content that convinces people, if not to ship it, to at least CONSIDER this ship a possibility... you’re out there, in hiding, pretending you have any right to tell us what to do and going ignored on most accounts. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: if I had any respect for someone, and they either stopped responding to me or started responding by telling me to leave them alone, I’d feel like such stain of garbage I’d never even try to interact with them again. While people absolutely can be different and react differently to things... I can’t see how, exactly, you have any respect for me when knowing you’re a problem for me has never stopped you and most likely never will.
I’ll admit, this one actually made me laugh. Like... you’re seriously trying to tell me that a sex scene was way too good and that’s why I have to change it. I actually disagree on every account, because the last time I revisited 28 I thought the scene was absolutely distant from my best work? I’ve written soooo much smut recently and literally any of those scenes kicks 28 out of any “best smut” contest by MILES. But... heh. This one, apparently, was too good.
I mean... thank you? For telling me that my smut skills are apparently that great they need to be toned down? Fascinating, really.
But again, “it sadly seems to be a too late to write chapter 28″. Sadly?
SADLY?
You can stick your sadness up where the sun doesn’t shine, dude:
SOMEONE WHO THREW SUCH A FIT OVER THEIR REVIEWS BEING REWRITTEN SHOULD
NEVER
TELL SOMEONE ELSE THAT IT’S TOO BAD THEY CAN’T REWRITE ANY OF THEIR CONTENT.
EVER
You can’t pretend, again, that you were EVER sorry for ANY of what you did... while still trying to tell someone they should rewrite their content. Honest to gods, you’re an asshole. You are. And if you think I’m one too, great, I own up to it gladly. But you’re the one willingly intoxicating their brain with my content, only to consistently go MAD over it, and then unleash this kind of illogical nonsense right back at me. I know art can generate a myriad of responses, but I am NOT responsible for your immaturity and inability to handle serious subjects and topics that SHOULD MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. If you don’t KNOW how to deal with the fact that there’s a lot of questionable, dislikeable things in this world, then my damn story is the least of your concerns because you’re well on your way to leading a VERY miserable life, Anon. Better get ready for it, will you?
And again, the Gladiator blog. Again, pretending to be well-mannered, and also, again, using the world “sadly”, same as the ask above. Like... man, what on earth is wrong with you. Are you seriously this masochistic? Do you also drink arsenic for sport? What on EARTH brings you the belief that asking how far or how much was done between Sokka and his previous one-night-stands would help you IN ANY WAY, WHATSOEVER?
I think I’ll answer that question, for once, with actual quotes, taken right from some of your favorite chapters, no less:
"When you and Ruon Jian got married, was he…?" she asked. Mai only raised a confused eyebrow, and Azula had the distinct feeling that Mai knew what she was talking about, but would force her to blurt it out anyways. She sighed: "A virgin."
Ty Lee's hands flew to her mouth as Mai raised her eyebrows. To Azula's astonishment, she merely shrugged.
"I don't know. I never asked," she said. Azula snorted.
"Then you're smarter than me. By far," she grunted. Mai smirked.
And as things digress there into Azula explaining what happened, let’s skip that and go straight to Mai’s direct answer:
"I've never asked Ruon Jian about whether or not he had anything serious with other girls before me because I seriously don't care," said Mai. "If I knew about it, I'd probably have a bout of jealousy like yours, I suppose… but it's in his past, and he left them behind to make me his present and his future. So, whatever he might have experienced before, with however many women there were, isn't something I'm overly concerned about."
"You're awfully mature compared to me if that's the case," said Azula, slipping her fingers through her hair again. Mai smirked.
"You've been complimenting me quite a lot today, Azula, that's not like you…"
"Shut up," Azula grunted. Mai chuckled.
:’)
This is the only answer this ask warrants. The fact that you’re so immature and so obsessed as to want to know more about what happened with something you HATE is completely cringeworthy and absurd. If you want to get angry imagining Sokka having wild sex with every woman who crosses his path, go ahead and do it, but do us both a favor and torture yourself, and yourself alone, with those thoughts rather than coming back TWENTY TIMES to my inbox looking for MORE reasons to get angry. You’re honestly unbelievable.
You know, that reading comprehension site I linked up there? Courses, 20% off! Seriously, perfect fit for you. You need it, direly.
Like... how can someone read a story built on the premise of Azula literally defeating Sokka painfully in battle to the point he’s left unable to move, taking Sokka away from home, turning him into a slave, being objectively responsible for the WORST TWO YEARS OF HIS LIFE... and then come to my inbox asking if Azula will ever hurt Sokka?
Dude, you’re off the deep end. You can’t even pretend you have a grasp on reality if you SERIOUSLY THINK Azula has NEVER hurt Sokka. Like, seriously, it feels like you’re reading this truncated version of Gladiator that’s only chapters 28, 111, 112 and perhaps 123? Is that what’s going on?
I’ve had Sokka and Azula arguing over ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING, whether for humorous or for serious purposes, since the very beginning of the story. Their first serious falling out is LITERALLY caused by the direct conflict of their worldviews clashing in chapter 12. Their second falling out was indeed caused by women: by Azula’s discovery that Sokka didn’t want to fight women, which of course, doesn’t bother you in the least because you and I both know that’s NOT what your problem was.
I could literally run through the whole story listing every single argument they’ve had, every single time they’ve hurt each other if that’s what you want: their first time? It literally comes from a very serious argument where Sokka believed he had reached the pinnacle of his potential as a fighter and feared Azula would need someone else to achieve her goals instead of him.
AND YOU’RE SERIOUSLY HERE ASKING IF THEY’LL EVER ARGUE OVER ANYTHING ELSE.
You don’t read this story. This ask absolutely proved it to me. You only read chapter 28 and everything potentially connected to Sokka having anything with other women. You don’t CARE about anything else, simply. Because if anything actually had ANY impact on you? You’d say something about it. But the only thing that touches your weird heart is Sokka sleeping with anyone else or having any potentially romantic interactions with someone else, whether he rejects them or not.
You don’t care about Gladiator. You only care about your ego, and the validation of your worldview and puritanic morals.
And to that I say, fuck that noise. I write whatever the hell I want to write, and you’re not going to rope me into playing it safe just to please insecure harassers who don’t know boundaries and are completely incapable of empathizing with anyone while demanding everyone should understand their feelings.
Final note on this matter: you, also, have no idea what love is. You plain and simple don’t understand it. You’re even more confused by what love should be than Azula was at the start of this story. You don’t get it, AT ALL.
All you want is for them to get even on things? You literally asked me, when I was in my angry spree of deleting your bullshit, to make Azula and her future husband have happy consensual quality sex with who knows how many orgasms... because it was only fair!
AGAIN: YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND LOVE IN THE LEAST.
If you think love is about getting even, you’re seriously an asshole. If you think love is about both people being 100% equal in social regards and experiences, you don’t even UNDERSTAND human relations. Do you live in a bubble, by any chance? Maybe you do! You must have zero contact with anyone other than people with your same puritanic beliefs, right? So that means you assume everyone who’s different from you is fundamentally a bad person? I take it?
Like... literally at this point I think you’d hear about someone who was abused in their childhood, molested, and your reaction would simply be “Oh wow I hope someone molests whoever they end up marrying too, so that way they may be even in the future and been molested by the exact same number of people, otherwise it’s not really love”.
This is fucking sick. I’m not holding back at this point, it’s SICK. It’s TWISTED. It’s VILE. Your mentality is absolutely repulsive to me. You don’t know what love is, and you have the most literal, obvious change to understand it better by reading this story properly, but instead you just read chapter 28 over and over and over again, isn’t that right?
And here’s the evidence of that. You really want me to answer that last question?
No, it doesn’t bug me to read that AT ALL. Because unlike you? I don’t obsessively reread 28 while disregarding everything else in the story. Unlike you, I don’t revisit the chapter every day to pick apart every line to look for reasons to get extra angry at those developments.
Most of us, when faced with things we DON’T like in fiction? We move past it. You, instead, dig yourself into a hole and continue digging, and then pretend to hold other people responsible for whatever impact this may be having on your psyche. Because yes, you’re holding me responsible for whatever trauma or insecurity this is awakening inside you when you continue to pester me as you have: if you’re an adult, you should have the tools and brains to determine what is and what isn’t acceptable behavior, as well as to curate your own experiences with media, with fandom, with EVERYTHING to do with these communities. If you choose to look for things to hate instead of things to love, THAT’S ON YOU.
And if you’re allegedly looking for things to love but can’t find ANY that suit your purposes (which... is bullshit. Clearly, your only priority is “Sokka must be a virgin who never had anything with anyone else”, and such stories DO exist, which I guarantee considering I’ve written at least THREE of them, where it’s absolutely stated that Sokka’s first and only one is Azula)...
Well, it’s funny. Because when I got here? I was looking for some very specific fics so I could explore whether or not Sokkla made any sense. And I didn’t find them.
Which resulted...
... In me writing the very stories I wanted to see.
Oh, my. Imagine taking your impulses and channeling them into something productive rather than looking for reasons to get angry 24/7! Must be such a NOVEL CONCEPT for you!
Seriously, you have no right to dictate what anyone does. Again, worth bringing up because you INSIST on the rewriting matter. Even if you’re claiming you’re done asking for it, you somehow KEEP bringing it up. And then you act like me mentioning 28′s events here or there in the story is absolutely outrageous... but you just go right on ahead and do the same thing yourself, don’t you? Funny how much of a hypocrite you really are, isn’t it?
The fact that you’re bringing up something I have NEVER written, and have NO INTENTIONS of ever writing, as some sort of stupid, ridiculous argument to be made AGAINST the post I literally reblogged TODAY... is just absurd beyond belief.
The fact that I ever even wrote Sokka cheating on Suki with Azula, which I DID, still bothers me. Because yes, it made for a good story, but the truth is, it doesn’t sit well with me. It worked in The Reason, worked in my collab story with a friend, but it doesn’t mean I feel 100% happy with that choice. Even if the cheating only amounted to a kiss in The Reason, and then a lot worse than just that in the other story, it’s still not cool! :’) I know this!
... And yet no one, NO ONE, has ever caught me writing Sokka cheating on Azula. In fact, when my collab story with my friend seemed to start moving towards that angle I BEGGED her not to do it, and then she didn’t, and my heart was deeply relieved and blissful for it. Because not only did it mean we wouldn’t have to deal with the very controversial and unsettling notion of someone in a good relationship cheating on their significant other... but because in that story, it also showed how much he had grown, and how he was truly devoted to Azula despite he hadn’t been to Suki.
But alas, I have my qualms with that concept, of course I do. And I don’t like it. Ergo, I’ll never write it.
Which begs the question as to WHY, exactly, you’re so obsessed with the notion of Sokka cheating on Azula? Like... do you get off on it? Are you wanking at the idea of Sokka and June every single night and then wake up feeling like crap and then take it out on me, by any chance? Is that what’s going on? Because I’m seriously starting to believe it is.
You clearly don’t understand anything about storytelling, which is probably why you don’t have the guts to create your own content in the first place. But the fact that I reblog a post about how conflict in a story is GOOD, and your first thought is “THEN THAT MEANS YOU APPROVE OF SOKKA CHEATING!” actually says A LOT MORE about you than it says about me. You need help. Clearly, the therapy site I was sending you to the last time wasn’t much good, was it? I guess you just ignored it in the end. Hopefully the reading comprehension one will suit you better, right?
Fuck you, seriously, for coming to someone who has been working this hard for this long, for a ship that they’re completely devoted to, to spout this kind of senseless shit. To think you seriously ever believed I’d accept your half-assed apologies when you’ve been doing this sort of bullshit for this long... you’re a piece of work. If you have the time to write that BULLSHIT into my inbox, at the very least use that time to look INWARD and ponder just what your damn problem is, resolve it on your own, AND LEAVE ME THE HELL OUT OF IT. Someone as immature and unstable as you has no business reading M-rated fiction, and I honestly rue the day you ever clicked my story. Both your life and mine would be countless times better if you simply had scrolled past it.
And on and on we went today. The THREE MORE ASKS that arrived as I was typing this insanely long response. Which resulted in you bumping the total, successfully, to 20. MIGHTY NICE OF YOU TO PROVE ME RIGHT! :’)
Now then, getting serious here... I must say your priorities are fucked. Like. Really fucked.
You’d rather Sokka tries to KILL AZULA than have a one-time sexual encounter with someone?
Like... you’re here, condoning VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN to that extent...? :’D and then you... you actually have the balls to whine because apparently him hurting her feelings is WORSE?!
Are you EVEN LISTENING TO YOURSELF???
You know, I think I have to offer you some REALLY good advice right now: go watch Naruto. Seriously, all of it. Go watch it, and enjoy your sweet loins’ release once Sasuke and Sakura start trying to kill each other, ONLY TO END UP TOGETHER AT THE END! :’) They were both 100% faithful to each other too, in the sense of Sakura getting depicted as a girl who can’t ever get over the guy she had a crush on when she was 6, no matter if he tries to kill her or her friends once he starts to go off the deep end, and Sasuke getting depicted as a guy who treats everyone like garbage, even the people he loves, because his manpain story somehow validates him being absolutely toxic to everyone he knows, so that’s absolutely up your alley! 100% the love story you’ve been looking for! You’re gonna LOVE IT.
Man, I just can’t believe you. I really can’t believe you. You’re seriously asking me to feature Sokka trying to kill Azula because that’s more acceptable to you. There was a story out there, you know? With Azula basically using Sokka to commit suicide, impaling herself on his sword and dying? You should just go look for that too, perfect fit for you (though it may be gone from the depths of this wretched site by now, which tbh I’d be grateful for, since it was the most unsettling, disturbing read).
Also? Thank you, truly, for all the remarkably shallow compliments you’ve thrown at me to “soften” your “criticism” (which, again, is whining, not legitimate criticism). Calling me a capable writer is super NICE of you, especially after all these months of persistent harassment and constant repetition that I should rewrite whatever you don’t like. I mean... that’s definitely the way someone treats a capable writer, isn’t that right?
“The problem isn’t conflict it’s what the conflict is”, the anon says. I’ve been writing a story for 8 years, 198 chapters and counting... and I’ve had a ton of different types of conflicts for Sokka and Azula to deal with. If your problem is “I don’t like this conflict”, FINE. But... hey. There have been THOUSANDS of other sources of conflict across the story, so many I don’t think I can even promise I’d ever take my time to count them all... there’s whole ARCS with conflicts regarding world politics and the war’s consequences and both Azula and Sokka completely changing their worldviews as they realize their realities are soooo much more complicated than they ever knew...!
Ergo. There ARE other conflicts. There are SO MANY of them that there’s no point in even listing it all out.
And yet you are obsessed with the one conflict you didn’t like, outright acting like THIS IS THE ONLY CONFLICT THERE EVER WAS, as proven by that preposterous and mindless “when will Azula ever hurt Sokka��� ask. The one development you were pissed at, because it tickled your loins the wrong way. Oh yes, I’m a capable writer, I could’ve done things differently...!
BUT I DIDN’T!
And aren’t you thrilled that I didn’t? You would be a complete nobody in this fandom if this hadn’t happened, because otherwise what would you POSSIBLY have to complain about?! To harass someone about?! You’d be SO BORED! You’d be so unknown, nobody would even be aware of your existence...!
Though.
Wait.
You’re an anon.
You’re unreachable and nobody really knows who you are.
... So never mind, you actually still are a complete nobody in this fandom and your only attempt to even take part in it is to be a negative, irritating presence that literally makes people facepalm, laugh and ridicule you to the extent I and many others have laughed at you.
And yes, that post I reblogged was 100% worth reblogging. Why? Because it hits the nail on the head:
I DIDN’T WRITE 28 SO YOU’D BE HAPPY WITH SOKKA.
I DIDN’T WRITE THAT CHAPTER TO MAKE PEOPLE THINK “OH WOW WHAT A WHOLESOME SITUATION”.
I WROTE IT BECAUSE IT WAS MEANT TO DETONATE CONFLICT AND SPEED UP CHARACTER GROWTH AND DEVELOPMENT, WHICH IT DID.
And the thing is? Maybe, in the future, I’ll write other stories, just as I wrote the Saturdays’ stories, and Sokka won’t have either meaningful or worth mentioning encounters with anyone else in them. Maybe I’ll write original fiction, and there won’t be any twists like what happened in 28!
But you will never get over this.
You will never care about any other content beyond this.
And that’s your failing, not mine.
If you would rather obsess over what makes you angry, that’s on YOU. But I’m damn sure I wrote a pretty reasonable conflict, character-wise, that was not only consistent with characterization but with the slightly darker take of the Avatarverse I’ve been working with. Not only that, but I NEVER skipped the consequences of their actions. I literally had them facing those consequences for whole arcs. Sokka assumed he’d never have a chance to be with Azula and made his peace with it, WITHOUT EVER PRETENDING HIS DEVELOPING FEELINGS FOR AZULA WERE ANYTHING THAT ENTITLED HIM TO HER LOVE IN RETURN. But oh, that’s too complex for you to understand, isn’t it? The fact that Sokka actually loves Azula for her, and not for himself, that he devotes himself to her in every imaginable way, that he fights people who dare disrespect her, that he would stop at NOTHING, even coming close to killing someone, to keep her safe despite he’s completely against killing people? That all means NOTHING to you.
And again? THAT’S YOUR PROBLEM. THAT’S YOUR FAILING. THAT YOU’RE SO OBSESSED WITH 28 AND CAN’T MOVE PAST IT IS NOT MY FAULT, IT’S YOURS.
Because I damn right moved past it. I’ve moved so far past it I literally don’t ever THINK about that damn situation until your stupid asks start arriving. Heck, maybe if you didn’t ASK so much about it, I’d stop bringing it up in recent chapters of the story :’) how do you feel about that particular kernel of unexpected information? Maybe you’re impacting the story in a whole shocking manner by inception-ing 28 into my head all the time and that’s why I can’t seem to stop throwing in lines referencing it for you to go completely BONKERS over. How about that? :’)
Say... how exactly do you think this fic is special? Literally all I know is you think I’m a capable writer who can create something perfectly catered for you, and yet ALL the feedback I’ve ever gotten from you is “REWRITE 28 AND EVERYTHING ABOUT SOKKA HAVING ANYTHING WITH OTHER GIRLS I DON’T UNDERSTAND ANY OF THIS I’M GENUINELY CURIOUS THIS IS LEGITIMATE CRITICISM SIGNING OFF BYE”. Your compliments are completely devoid of meaning because they’re literally just a handful of “you’re a good writer” and you don’t even say WHY you think I’m good. You don’t ever come here to tell me how much you enjoyed a certain scene, or how happy you are with a certain development... No.
Because when Sokka and Azula got married? What did I get?
“HOW CAN YOU LET SOKKA AND AZULA GET MARRIED NOW WHEN HE SLEPT WITH SOMEONE ELSE IN CHAPTER 28?!”
I wish I had screenshots for those, but you and I both know the truth, you irksome anon, and the truth is you did exactly that. And with every new development in Shu Jing, I got yet more reviews and ask(s), persistently whining about how UNFAIR it is that now Azula apparently is locked in marriage with this unfaithful man who has been unfaithful to her a grand total number of ZERO TIMES ever since their relationship began! How DARES he even think about marrying her?! Scourge of earth, let’s murder him in cold blood because DEATH IS BETTER THAN CHEATING!!!
If you think highly of Gladiator for ANY REASON, you’ve kept those reasons well and safely tucked away in the depths of your broken heart or shared them with anyone but me. Look at all these asks, damn you, and tell me at what point in time did you convey ANYTHING beyond “why don’t you write what I want you to write?”, huh? Because hell, I don’t see it in any of them. Literally nowhere. No backwards (: emojis are compliments or evidence of how much this story allegedly means to you. All I know is that you hate 28 and everything about it.
And you see...
I don’t give a flying fuck.
I don’t.
You can hate 28 all you want.
You can hate June.
You can hate Sokka.
It is, INDEED, a free world.
But you have no right, NONE WHATSOEVER, to commit to this level of harassment as you have, for A WHOLE YEAR, and pretend the problem is that I, Seyary, the “evil super-sensitive author who writes Sokka sleeping with other people and doesn’t even break a sweat but then crumbles to pieces when “negative” feedback arrives”, can’t handle your comments properly.
I’ve said it before, damn you: NO ONE NEEDS TO REITERATE THEIR OPINIONS A MILLION TIMES. NO ONE. NOT YOU, NOT THE PEOPLE DEMANDING FOR THE PLOT TO KICK INTO HIGH GEAR, NOT THE ONES WHO THINK THIS SHIP IS GARBAGE, NOT ANYONE.
NO ONE HAS ANY RIGHT OR REASON TO COME BACK PERSISTENTLY THORUGHOUT A YEAR TO HARASS SOMEONE NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES THEY’RE TOLD TO STOP IT.
Point being: HATE WHAT YOU WILL! But keep it the fuck off my blog. And if you CAN’T? Get used to these responses. Because you’re going to get them, constantly. I guarantee it.
I know your damn opinion already. I know it by heart and I damn wish I didn’t. You are perfectly free to go read all the other stories where I’ve had Sokka staying faithful to Azula, with Azula being his first, or with Azula being much more experienced and sleeping around while Sokka stays mostly chaste... but you don’t. You come back, every time, to my miserable inbox that must cry every time you show up in it, to make these demands and pretend you have any power over what I should be writing.
Again, no, I have no idea why this story matters to you at all. And at this point? I’d rather NOT know. Because I’m 100% sure the only thing that matters most to you is chapter 28. So you know, go ahead, wank to it again and cry yourself to sleep. It’s kind of fascinating to have written something that has such a visceral emotional impact on a complete and total stranger. Makes it clear I’ve made a lot of progress as a writer if I can fuck up someone’s life to this extent with what I’ve written.
Yeah. Sure. You really think I’ll buy it? You really think this is goodbye? Oh, no, Anon. You can’t stay away. You’ve been told to, you’ve been asked to, but you can’t.
So no, I’m not wishing you good luck back. And I’m certainly not wishing you any fun with my fic, because it’s more than clear that the only source of entertainment it provided you was chapter 28, seeing as it’s the only impactful thing I apparently ever wrote. And someone who’s that obsessed with one of the chapters I most disliked writing despite I knew the plot would benefit from it in the long run simply can’t deserve to have fun. So... good suffering over Gladiator, if anything? Go ahead and continue to wrack your brain while trying to unravel why, oh, why would ANYONE ever write what I wrote and still call themselves a Sokkla shipper?!
I dunno, maybe go on and write something similar yourself. Could be you’ll finally figure out what your problem is if you take to writing the cheating storylines you’re so very much obsessed with. Only, heh, I can guarantee I’m not touching anything you write, out of principle more than anything. I plain and simple don’t want anything to do with you... but as I don’t intend to close my inbox again, it seems I have no choice, do I?
Good fucking luck sticking to this alleged goodbye... but we both know you’ll be coming back very soon, won’t you? No worries, Anon, I’ll be waiting this time. Let’s see if you can break your 20-ask-streak record next time, shall we? :’)
It’s December 13th, at 2:32 PM, in my location. Let’s see how long it takes you to come back, shall we?
EDIT: I neglected to check constantly so it definitely arrived earlier than this, but officially received a response at least 2 hours after this post went live.
Didn’t I call it? Yep, absolutely called it.
#I need a name for this anon#though I guess stalker-harasser anon would work?#yep#stalker-harasser anon#there we go#honestly it feels so utterly backwards to still talk about this to this day#and yet#it never ends#:')#here we go have this dumpster fire of a post#I'm legit going to time this shit#and report right back to you all#once the stalker-harasser comes back#it's the only genuinely hilarious part of this whole thing after all
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Never Doubt I Love
Inspired by THIS post from @pretty-as-princey
Fandom: Sanders Sides - part of my collection Remind Me Why I Fell In Love With Happy Endings(Happy Endings)
Characters: Patton-centric, Roman, Logan, Virgil, Janus
Relationships: Patton & Everyone
Warnings: bad self esteem, negative self talk, negative self worth
Notes: Takes place an indeterminate amount of time after POF when Remus and Janus aren’t fully accepted, but not ostracized either. They don’t live with the Light Sides but they pop in on a regular basis. Patton cares about them and considers them vital parts of Thomas, but not really family yet. *italicized sections are flashbacks* My Masterpost will be updated to include this and the ao3 link when it’s posted
Summary: Love languages were hard. Patton wanted to be able to express himself in all of them so that no one in his famILY could doubt he loved them. He was loud and energetic and open and kind and tired. Patton was so tired.
Word Count: 4781
~
Patton loved the others, he really did. He made mistakes and he knew that, but he loved them so much and he tried so hard to make sure they knew that. He thought they did, but lately he was less sure.
~
“Patton, please,” Logan sighed, cutting off yet another of Patton’s overly enthusiastic contributions. “Thomas has neither the time nor the money to adopt an animal. We have been over this before.”
Patton stiffened, his eyes widening slightly, his smile static on his face. “You’re right, Logan,” he said with a reassuring smile. “Silly me. I’m just gonna-” he pointed down and sank out of Thomas’s living room before anyone had a chance to protest. Well, that wasn’t totally true. He sank down before he had to hear them not protest and could pretend that he just missed it because he left too quickly.
Patton rose up in his room with a sigh. Logan was right, as usual. Patton was wrong, as usual. He was okay with that. He liked hearing Logan explain things and he didn’t mind when Logan’s explanations proved him wrong. Seeing Logan excited to share was more than enough. Patton just wished- no. Logan was right and he was wrong and that was that. It didn’t matter how much of his opinion or idea he got to say because in the end, Logan was right. All that Patton finishing his thought would do was waste time when everyone knew who was going to win in the end.
“Patton?” Patton turned to his door where he could see the shadow of someone’s shoes. “Is everything alright?”
“Just fine!” Patton called through the door, fervently wiping at his eyes which had started to dampen without him noticing. “I’ll be down and making dinner in a few minutes, don’t you worry!”
“That is… not remotely why I’m concerned, Patton,” Logan said through the door. “May I come in?”
Patton blinked his eyes quickly a few more times. “Sure, kiddo!”
Logan eased the door open hesitantly. “You left rather abruptly. Are you certain nothing is bothering you?”
“Abso-positiv-a-yepper-yes-a-lutely!”
Logan blinked. “Was that crime against the English language intended to be a yes?”
Patton sighed, smiling weakly. “Sure was, kiddo. I just need a minute before coming to make dinner, alright?”
Logan frowned. “Of course that’s not a problem, Patton, but—”
“Then I’ll see you in a minute, Logan,” said Patton almost sharply, cutting him off. Instantly Patton’s eyes went wide and he slammed his hands over his mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Logan!” He cried, his voice muffled by his hands. “I shouldn’t have cut you off! I know you hate it when we don’t listen to you and we don’t listen enough! I don’t listen enough! I’m so sorry!” The words spilled out of Patton’s mouth like water from a faucet(or blood from an open wound) but he couldn’t stop them.
Logan reached over and grabbed Patton’s hands, pulling them away from his mouth and holding them between the two. “Patton. It’s okay. Please don’t worry about it. I’ll see you in a few minutes?”
Patton nodded shakily and Logan took a step back. Patton forced himself to let go of Logan’s hands and let him step away. Patton was the one who asked him to leave in the first place. Now he had to live with that. Logan’s fingers trailed over his as their hands dropped back to their sides and Patton couldn’t stop the small choked noise that escaped him at the loss of contact. Logan either didn’t notice or thought preserving Patton’s dignity was important enough to pretend he didn’t. Patton’s hands twitched at his sides and he shoved them in his pockets to hide them. Logan didn’t want to hear Patton whine. Logan valued productivity and even Patton’s attempts to be productive weren’t good enough; Logan definitely didn’t want to hear him whine and complain about his feelings. Logan has better things to do. Logan cared about him, but he didn’t want to deal with emotions and that was okay. Patton didn’t want to be a burden. That was how he showed he cared.
Patton blinked. He was alone. Logan was gone. Patton wondered when he’d left. He wondered if Logan had actually been there at all or if Patton had just imagined him in another pathetic fit of desperation.
~
Logan knew Patton loved him and Logan loved Patton too. That was how Logan showed he cared. Patton asked him to leave and he did. It wasn’t Logan’s fault that he didn’t try to stay and comfort Patton because Patton didn’t need comfort. Patton had gone downstairs and made dinner that night and no one had ever thought about it again. Patton needed to stop dwelling. Of course his famILY knew he loved them, he told them all the time!
~
Patton had gone directly to Roman’s room after that awful video when Janus revealed his name. It was nice to not have to be afraid of Janus and Remus, but really it was Roman that Patton was concerned about. The others were vital parts of Thomas, but Roman was part of Patton’s tiny family.
“Roman?” Patton called through the door. Roman’s door was almost never closed. He liked having the other sides free to come in and out of his room and his door to the Imagination, but now it was not only closed, it was locked. Patton hadn’t even known their doors could lock. Roman must have changed his specifically. “Roman, kiddo, please let me in! I’m sorry we hurt you! We love you so much! Please, Roman!”
It felt like an eternity passed before Roman opened the door. He wasn’t wearing his usual regal attire, but was dressed in a large and ill-fitting tee-shirt and baggy sweatpants. His hair was a mess as if he’d been grabbing at it and his eyes were red and wet.
“Come in, Patton,” he sighed, stepping aside so that Patton could walk into his room. It was a mess. His posters were torn down and his usual outfit in a pile on the floor. Roman’s desk doubled as a vanity and it was disturbingly bare. Everything that had been on it, finished products that he displayed with pride, his unfinished work, his hair products, his face products, his makeup, had been shoved into a trash can or onto the floor. The mirror on it was shattered. Patton whipped around to look at Roman when he noticed a spot of red on the cracks of the mirror.
“Show me your hands,” Patton demanded. Sure enough, Roman was hiding his hands behind his back. Patton took a steadying breath and sat down at the foot of Roman’s bed. “Sit with me?” he asked, a little softer. Roman did, still keeping his hands folded to Patton couldn't see his knuckles. “Show me your hands.” Patton reached out his own hands and waited. After a moment, Roman reached over and put his hands in Patton’s. Patton gasped softly at the forming bruises on his knuckles and the spider web of cuts on his fingers.
“Hey, Roman?” Patton asked shakily. “Can you conjure me some bandages and antiseptic? You’re so much better at conjuring than me.” Roman didn’t even blink at the compliment, but a roll of clean bandages and an unlabeled bottle that Patton assumed was antiseptic appeared between them.
Patton used one hand to twist open the bottle, not wanting to let go of Roman altogether. As he cleaned and wrapped Roman’s hands, he started to talk softly. “Please don’t hurt yourself, kiddo. I hate seeing you hurt. I just don’t know what we’d do without you, Ro.” Roman didn’t respond, just staring at Patton’s hands, not even flinching as Patton cleaned his cuts and pulled out bits of broken glass, so Patton just kept talking, murmuring any reassurances and promises he could think of. “You’re so amazing that sometimes we don’t even notice how wonderful you are until you remind us. You’re our constant. We love you.” Patton pressed a kiss to Roman’s hands every time he said they loved him. It meant that he took a lot longer to clean off Roman’s hands than he would have otherwise, but it was worth it. “I love you. I’m so proud of you. I’m proud of all you do, but I’m just proud of you. I’m glad and I’m proud that I get to know you. It really is going to be okay, kiddo. I know it’s hard and sometimes things are hard, but I promise you: it will be okay.”
Eventually, Roman’s hands were clean and wrapped. “Thank you, Pat,” he whispered, managing a weak smile. “I know.”
“Do you?”
Roman shrugged. “I think I will?” he offered. “I think I’m going to go to bed early.”
Patton swallowed heavily and nodded. “Okay, kiddo. Do you want me to stay?” Part of Patton, oh who was he kidding? All of Patton really wanted Roman to say yes. Patton always wanted to comfort his family, but it wasn’t just Roman who’d had a really hard day. Patton didn’t want to ask one of the others to take care of him, that wasn’t fair to them after everything he’d done and been doing, but if Roman would let him stay and hold him then maybe Patton could pretend that he was being held too. Even if everything was wrong and Patton was wrong, maybe Patton could convince himself that he was still wanted.
“I think I’m good, Pop,” Roman replied and Patton’s chest was so tight. “You don’t have to stay.”
“I really don’t mind staying-”
“I’m going to be okay, Patton. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Roman said in a way that was probably meant to be reassuring. Patton considered protesting again, but he didn’t want Roman to feel like he had to let Patton stay.
“Alright, slugger, if you’re sure,” Patton said, not looking at Roman. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Patton didn’t bother walking to the door, preferring to sink out. It was faster and easier and he didn’t have to admit that Roman really wanted him gone. He could pretend that he actually did hear Roman call, “Wait, Pat!” as he rose up in his own empty room.
Patton curled up on his bed, not bothering to change his clothes. He pulled a pillow close to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut, pretending it was Roman or Logan or Virgil, pretending that it was someone who actually wanted him to hug them.
He thought about that time Thomas had asked them all to say they loved each other. He’d gushed about how much he loved them like he always did because it was true. He loved them so much it hurt and at the time he’d brushed off how unwilling the others were to say it back as their discomfort at saying it on camera, but maybe it wasn’t. He’d mostly talked over Logan, but if he remembered right, Logan had barely managed to say their existence was good and even then it sounded like a lie. He was more willing to lie back then. Roman only said it after Patton scolded him. Virgil had actually come the closest to actually saying it back by asking if it could be an understood thing, but when Patton pointed that out he’d denied it. Maybe Patton pushed too much. Maybe he should act more like Logan, more professional, and treat the others like coworkers or friends instead of family to make them feel more comfortable. Patton imagined living like that. He almost threw up. He loved them with every part of himself and to pretend he didn’t would be denying his heart. The heart couldn’t deny his heart. He barely managed to keep from showing his bad emotions all the time as it was. He had to burden them with something and he’d rather burden them with his love than with his sadness.
~
It was okay. Patton was okay. He knew how bad repression could be now, they’d shown him that. It was bad for Thomas to not feel and engage with his feelings and he would never want to hurt Thomas! He laid back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He’d put glow stars up there when they were kids. Logan and Roman put glow stars up in their rooms too. They’d done it together when they were...eight?
When they were ten, Logan started learning about the stars and how they weren’t random at all. He’d gushed for weeks about how amazing the real pattern of the sky was. He still would if anyone asked. No one ever did. Logan took the stars down two weeks after their tenth birthday.
When they were twelve Roman decided he wanted to paint a mural. He planned it for months and it was beautiful. Patton couldn’t begrudge him that. Roman took the stars down a week before they turned thirteen.
Now they were in their thirties and Patton still couldn’t bring himself to take down the stars. They were his stars. They represented the bond between him and Logan and Roman. He loved Virgil and he was part of Patton’s famILY, but it was Logan and Roman that Patton had never learned how to live without. When Patton was sure of himself and their bond, they glowed so bright that he couldn’t sleep without covering his face.
Patton looked up at the dull pieces of plastic on his ceiling and tried not to cry.
~
When Virgil told Patton that he didn’t like the way Patton talked about him it felt like a kick in the face. All Patton wanted to do was show how much he loved Virgil and the other sides, but all he managed to do was hurt them. No matter how hard he tried, he always seemed to get it wrong. They knew he was trying though and Patton was pretty sure that counted for something.
A few weeks after Patton started fixing the way he showed Virgil he loved him they were all eating breakfast and Patton was starkly reminded of just how much he needed to fix.
Virgil was usually the last one of them to make his way downstairs in the morning unless Logan or Roman had been up all night working on a project. Hearing the tell-tale signs of his angsty son, Patton spun around with a bright grin on his face to greet him.
“Morning, kidd-” he caught himself. “Virgil! Morning, Virgil!” Patton didn’t let the smile fall from his face, but Virgil’s flinch at his greeting made him want to. Where he had been relaxed before Patton said anything, Virgil was stiff and awkward. He stumbled over to the table with Logan and Roman.
“Morning, Patton,” he mumbled as he passed by. “Morning, L. Morning, Princey,” he said as he leaned on the back of a chair, perking up noticeably. Patton swallowed heavily and went about his morning.
He made small talk with the other three as he finished up breakfast and they all prepared their plates. He smiled and laughed along with Roman’s stories and nodded along to Logan’s explanations and interjections. He didn’t say much of substance. Virgil didn’t say much at all. Eventually he sat down with the others and pretended he didn’t feel like he was walking through a minefield. He wanted to show his love in ways they appreciated, of course he did. They were just so vague about what they wanted and it was so hard.
...
“That sounds fun, Logan!”
Logan scoffed. “Really, Patton? I am not suggesting it for amusement. It is the most productive and therefore logical course of action.”
“Right.”
…
“Oh wow! That’s great, Roman!”
Roman rolled his eyes. “I appreciate the compliment, Pat, but it’s nowhere near finished. The completed project will be nothing like what I’ve described.”
“Right, yeah.”
…
“That’s so sweet of you, Virgil!”
“I’m not sweet.”
“No, of course not.”
…
“Did you have good dreams last night, kiddo?”
“Yeah, I slept fine, Pat.”
“Okay.”
…
“Thanks, little shadow!”
“Seriously, Pops?”
“Just joking, Virge.”
…
“And Logan’s just smart.”
“And what about me?”
“Well, you’re - you’re… Patton!”
“Oh, I- Aww, thanks, Roman!”
…
“I’ll clean up, kiddos. Don’t worry about it!”
…
Then Patton was alone. He didn’t mind being alone so much. When he was alone he could play out elaborate scenarios in his head and not worry about how the others would react. He could pretend they were all waiting for him and that they would tell him nice things and hug him. He could pretend a lot of things when he was alone.
Patton did the dishes.
~
It was fine. He was fine. Everything was fine. He was a good person. Patton didn’t say nice things so that he would hear nice things back. He said nice things because he believed them and he loved the people he said them about. He was a good person.
Who was he kidding? Patton was a terrible person. He only pretended to be nice so that he could be complimented and when it didn’t work he was resentful. He was an awful, terrible, bad person who didn’t deserve all the nice things he had. He was a bad person. He was!
“Well, this certainly isn’t concerning.”
Patton sat up like a shot at the sound of someone in his room. Janus was standing in his doorway that hadn’t been open a minute ago. He looked like he was trying really hard not to fidget.
“Can I come in?” Janus asked tentatively. Patton nodded and Janus stepped into his room, closing the door behind him. He walked over hesitantly, but sat down on the bed by Patton when Patton gestured for him to.
“Is there something I can help you with, Janus?” Patton asked, trying to pretend that Janus hadn’t walked in on him crying.
“You can tell me why you’re lying to yourself.”
Patton stiffened. “Right. I was doing that. It’s okay, I stopped now.”
Janus raised his eyebrows. “You stopped telling yourself that you’re a bad person who only pretends to be nice?” he asked. “Because from what I could tell, you still were while I was standing at your door.”
Patton scowled. “That’s not the lie and you know it.”
Janus sighed heavily. “No, Patton. I don’t know that. Even when I couldn’t stand you, I didn’t think that you were faking being nice. I think being a good person is subjective, but there is absolutely no argument that you are not nice. There is no argument that you are not selfless and loving. I can absolutely argue with you over if those are good things, but they are true.”
“I don’t think I believe you,” Patton whispered.
Janus winced. “You really think I’d lie about something like this?”
“Maybe.” Patton shrugged. “I believe you believe it,” he offered.
“Look, Patton, we’ve never been close. Talk to the others. Let them tell you if you won’t hear it from me. You tell them you love them all the time. It’s high time they made you know too.”
“No!” Patton yelped before he could stop himself. “I mean, you know I can’t do that. I can’t turn my love into an obligation for them. I’m burdening them enough by loving them the way I do and not asking for anything back. I can’t put that on them.”
“What are you talking about? They already love you.”
Patton sighed. “Janus, I’m Morality. What’s the Golden Rule of morality that we all learned as kids?”
“Treat others the way you want to be treated,” Janus responded without thinking. “Oh.”
Patton breathed out a soft laugh. “Yeah.” He tipped his head back to look at the ceiling again. “Either I go against the simplest part of Morality and keep letting myself get hurt or I go against the part of Morality that I can’t let go of and hurt them for my sake.”
“I don’t think you’d be hurting them. I think they don’t realise. I think they’d be a lot more hurt if they knew you thought so little of them that you’d let yourself be hurt so as not to inconvenience them.”
“That’s a nice thought.”
“Dammit, Patton,” Janus growled. “Tell them or I will.”
Patton just kept looking at his stars.
“I can make you tell them,” Janus admitted, slightly choked up. “I can make you tell the truth as easily as I can make you hide it.”
“I don’t think I could forgive you for that.”
“Then don’t make me do it.”
~
Janus had left after that. Disappearing just like Virgil used to. Patton stared at his ceiling for a while longer. Janus thought he was a good person. Well, Janus thought that Patton was Patton’s definition of a good person. Maybe talking to his famILY would be good. Maybe it wouldn’t.
Patton paused as an idea came to him. He wouldn’t tell them. He wouldn’t seek them out. But… maybe next time they asked, he wouldn’t lie.
~
A week went by and nothing changed. Patton kept smiling and sometimes it wasn’t even forced. Roman told his stories and Logan pretended he didn’t love them. Virgil complained about everything, but in a way that sounded more like he was complimenting them. Logan shared his ideas and Patton made sure everyone listened. Sure maybe some of it was Patton’s guilt for skipping Logan in that one video, but most of it was just that Patton believed all his kiddos deserved to be heard. Janus popped in from time to time and gave Patton pointed looks. Remus barreled in every so often and dragged them all off on an adventure that they ended up enjoying more than they thought they would. A week went by and nothing changed.
They were at dinner. It seemed that dinner was the only time the four of them all talked anymore. It was always some grouping of them the rest of the time. Dinner was going...badly. From Patton’s perspective at least.
Roman had been flippant and dismissive of Patton’s attempts to compliment him. Virgil had been getting increasingly frustrated with every word out of Patton’s mouth. The more the two of them carelessly shut him down, the more outlandish his comments started to become just so they’d look at him for a few moments. Logan didn’t like outlandish comments. Logan started snapping at him when Patton would speak up. Patton stopped talking.
The other three continued their conversation for about an hour. Patton didn’t say a word. He didn’t eat either. No one noticed either.
“Pat, what do you think?” Virgil asked, turning to Patton. “Pat?”
Patton stiffened. He shook his head frantically, not trusting himself with an open mouth.
“Patton?” Logan asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “What’s wrong?”
“I love you all so much,” Patton choked out. “I love you all so much it hurts and I keep hurting you with it and I’m so sorry! I know that’s not good enough, but I can’t stop!”
“Patton, no,” Logan breathed. “Patton, you are not hurting us.”
“I am,” Patton insisted. “I try to listen to you but I never understand and I just end up being a distraction. I can never tell Roman how much I love him in a way that sounds true. I keep telling Virgil I care the wrong way. You know all this, Logan. You know it’s true.”
“It doesn’t matter, Pat,” Virgil snapped. “I care more that you’re trying than if you’re succeeding.”
“That’s not even the worst part,” Patton whispered. “Nevermind,” he said quickly, cutting himself off.
“Pat, please,” Roman choked on his words. “Please talk to us.”
“I want to be told you love me too,” Patton said so softly they barely heard it. “You don’t have to,” he promised. “But sometimes I like to be- never mind.”
“Complimented?” Virgil guessed. “Like you always do for us?” Patton nodded.
“Hugged?” Roman added hesitantly. Patton didn’t look at him, but he nodded.
“Listened to,” Logan finished. Patton stared at the table, but he managed to nod.
“I’m so-”
Virgil cut him off with a hesitant grin. “If you apologize again, I’m going to physically fight you. If you keep talking bad about yourself, I’m going to physically fight you.”
Patton laughed. “Please don’t fight me.” He frowned, his eyes drifting back down to the table. “I know you don’t like it when I call you sweet and I’m trying not to anymore, but I…”
“But it’s hard?” Virgil guessed. “I know. I really appreciate what you’ve done and I-”
“Not what I was going to say, Virgil,” Patton said softly. “Respecting your boundaries is never going to be too much of an effort. I was just going to say where my boundaries are.” Patton took a deep breath and held it. “I like it? I like it when you all call me sweet.” he huffed a laugh. “That’s kind of what I’m trying for.”
Patton looked over at Roman with a smile. “You said I was the ‘sweetest puffball we got’ and I don’t know how you meant it, but I really liked that.”
Patton turned his now-blinding smile on Logan. “You called me adorable and to be honest, Lo? It was adorable.”
“You remember what we said?” Logan asked abruptly.
Patton’s smile widened. “Of course I do! I wrote them all down so I couldn’t forget. Those two are at the top of my Logan and Roman lists. Pop-star’s at the top of my Virgil list.”
“I am going to come up with so many names that you’re going to need to start a whole notebook just to keep up with my list.” Roman’s gaze was steely and he looked almost threatening. “I am going to hug you so much that you’ll be sick of me.”
Patton was going to burst. “I’ll never be sick of you!” he cooed.
“I will make a more visible and concentrated effort to listen to your contributions,” Logan promised. “I can’t promise that we will always agree, but I can promise that I will listen and hear you.”
Patton’s eyes were soft as he looked at Logan. “I’m okay with being wrong, Logan. I just want you to hear me.”
“I do hear you Patton. I’m sorry I don’t do it often enough.”
“Oh, Logan, no!” Patton looked at Logan in horror. “It’s okay. You don’t need to be sorry.”
Logan sighed fondly. “If you want to forgive me then that is up to you, but it’s not okay and I do have reason to apologize.”
“As do I,” Roman added. “I have been taking your affection for granted. I will not continue.”
“So do I,” Virgil mumbled. “I’m not sorry for setting boundaries because you’ve taught me that that’s okay, but I am sorry for brushing you off and not showing you that I care about you and appreciate you.”
“Thank you,” Patton said wetly.
Logan took a breath. “This is difficult for me and I apologize if it sounds insincere. I love you, Patton. You don’t always make my job easier, which can be frustrating, but you make it enjoyable.”
“Thank you, Lo.” Patton’s damp eyes started to drip. “Happy tears,” he clarified at the others’ looks of concern. “You don’t have to-”
Logan cut off any protest that Patton could make. “You’re worth it.”
“You make us a family, Pat,” Roman declared. “You are what makes us more than the sum of our parts.”
Patton was full on sobbing now.
Virgil stood up from his seat. He let his arms fall open at his sides. “Come here.”
Patton dove into Virgil’s arms, his wet face soaking through his hoodie in a matter of minutes. Roman instantly sprang from his seat to wrap himself around Patton’s back and pull the other two into his arms. Roman was warm and his grip was steady and Patton felt like he could take on the world if he did it while he was in Roman’s arms.
Logan stood awkwardly and made his way over to them, standing about a foot away from Patton’s side.
“Logan, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Patton called, his voice muffled by Virgil’s hoodie.
“I know I just agreed to start listening to you more, but I believe I can be forgiven in this one circumstance.” Logan stepped forward wrapping his arms around Patton and resting his chin in Patton’s hair. “Shut your ever-flapping gobtalker.”
Virgil snorted which caused Roman to laugh. Logan simply smiled and held them tighter as Patton’s giggles rang out above them all.
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#sanders sides fic#sanders sides#patton sanders#patton angst#logan sanders#roman sanders#janus sanders#virgil sanders#platonic lamp#familial lamp#i need a writing tag#negative self talk tw#negative self image tw#remind me why i fell in love with happy endings
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Chapter Three: Tear Me to Pieces
11/01/19
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Word Count: 2502+
Warnings: Language; Panic Attack; Angst; Angry!Chris; Sad!Chris
Series Masterpost
A/N: I think I’ll stick with posting biweekly (once every two weeks) as it seems to fit my schedule most. It’s been tough trying to fit writing in with my grad school, but I am trying to balance everything! You get an extra long chapter though! I hope you enjoy and pleaseee lemme know what you think! I appreciate every comment, ask about this fic 💕
“I don’t know what to do, mom,” Chris cried on the phone. He was desperate for some answers as the feeling of dread took over his heart. His career and his personal life has what he felt like being destroyed in a matter of weeks, and he was overwhelmed with so many emotions.
“Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry that you’re going through all of this,” Lisa immediately cooed sympathetically. “Have you been able to see Jenna at all?” With them being so close, it was no surprise that Lisa knew the name of Chris’s therapist back in Boston. Chris had actually gone to a couple of sessions with his father, wanting to mend a few troubles the two had in a safe place.
There was a beat of silence, and he answered with a small, “No.”
“Oh, it’s okay, baby. Do you want me to book you an appointment with her?” Lisa was worried that Chris hadn’t been seeing anyone throughout this whole ordeal. She could tell how overwhelmed he was, and she knew he needed someone more than her at this moment.
“S’okay. I’ll call her tonight.”
Her heart was breaking at the sound of his defeated voice, the 38 year-old sounding more like a child, and it pulled at her heartstring. “Okay. Text me when you’re going. I’ll come by and drop you off. We can make a whole adventure out of it.”
“Okay,” he said quietly, saying goodbye to his mother before ending the call. He made an appointment with Jenna, who scheduled him in for the next day, hearing the gravity of the situation. A text pinged on his phone not long after, his personal assistant, John Diangelo, asking if he can come by. He texted back with a ‘yes’, needing a friend through this all and wanting to inform John of his manager’s crime.
Chris sat on his couch, Dodger in the crate sensing the tension in the house. He sat there, numb and broken. It could’ve been hours and he wouldn’t have realized. The only thing that got him out of his reverie was the knock on the door. With drawn out, sluggish movements, he got to the door, opening to reveal his sympathetic PA.
“How are you holding up, brother?” the Kansas-born man asked with a soft smile.
“I don’t know, John. I really don’t know,” Chris whispered, sitting down on his couch with his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Take it one day at a time. It’s all you can do,” he said, running his hand through his ginger hair. “Has the police found anything?”
“It was Daniel. He’s the one stealing money from me.”
“Holy shit,” John cursed, leaning on the wall behind Chris.
“And while we were talking to him, he said someone else was involved.”
“Who?” John asked urgently, eyes wide in concern and anticipation.
“Y/N.”
“No fucking way,” John muttered, his voice coming out breathier than usual.
Chris shook his head. “I can’t believe this. I just can’t believe this. I was going to propose,” he confessed.
John was at a loss of words, not knowing how to comfort the man. Anything he said would sound ingenuine. “It’ll get better, brother. At least you found out sooner than later.”
“I guess so,” Chris mumbled. He blinked a few times, his red-rimmed eyes hurting with every blink. “I’m gonna go pack up her stuff.”
“Do you need any help?”
“No, it’s alright. I can pack’em myself.”
“Okay. I can take her stuff down once you’re finished with them, and let her know they’re ready for her to pick up if you want?”
“That would be great. Thank you, John.” With robotic movements, Chris went to the bedroom he once shared with the love of his life, and started packing.
Six Months Later
The investigation slowed down a bit as they kept hitting roadblocks with the press. It became a more high profile case, and the attention it received hindered people from doing their job as they were harassed by the press. They were relentless once they caught a whiff of the drama unfolding in Chris’s life. He tried to keep the issue as private as possible, but it was hard to when there were so many moving parts involved- from the fraud investigators, the police officers in charge of his case, and Kevin and his accounting firm that is doing a complete audit of Chris’s finances. There were a lot of people involved, one of the was bound to sell the story to the press.
Captain America Breaks Up with Girlfriend Over Money?
Chris Evan’s Girlfriend a Gold Digger?
Chris Evan Found to Have Fired Manager Over Fraud
Headline after headline, they wrote it all. Rumours and assumptions being thrown around, and articles that were only half truth. With the leaks of the news, there was another investigation launched to find the person who was leaking Chris’s personal information to the public. Chris couldn’t go anywhere without being followed by the press. He hired bodyguards for himself and his family, hating the fact that they were victims to his problems.
It marked the 25th week of the investigation, the end was almost in sight. One of the newly hired fraud investigators was caught selling information to the press, and was quickly fired from the company. Everyone else had to sign a tighter non-disclosure form that was created by Chris’s legal team.
It was a gloomy Friday, the rainy day finally easing up as peak summer hit the town of Massachusetts. Chris just finished his daily morning walk with Dodger, hating the humid rain as much as his little dog did. Scott was staying at his place for a few days, trying to distract him from it all, and trying to pull him back out of his isolation. His usual goofy self was nowhere to be seen as he became paranoid of the next person to take advantage of him. Aside from his family, he’s been ignoring a lot of his friends, and only recently gotten back in touch with them.
Just as he finally cooled down from the AC in his house, his phone rang.
“Hey Jason, what’s up?”
“We got some new information. Do you mind coming by the station?”
Chris sighed, rubbing his forehead. It seems like he couldn’t catch a break with all the information that was hitting him.
“Chris? You okay?”
“Yea, yea. Sorry. Just got distracted for a bit- I can be there in half an hour or so.”
“Alright. See you soon.”
“You good?” Scott asked, entering the kitchen as Chris was finishing up his call. Dodger happily jumped towards him, begging to be given attention which he happily gave.
“Yea. Jason just said they have more information and needed me to come down.”
“Want me to come with you?”
He gave a non-committal shrug.
“Alright. Lemme just get changed, and we can go.”
The two brothers met up with Jason and Diana Bass, she was in charge of the whole investigation and was working closely with Jason to finish everything in a timely matter. They walked to a small meeting room, both brothers refusing any refreshments as the tension built in the room.
“While we were investigation Y/N, we found something else,” Jason said, his eyebrows pulled together anxiously.
“What is it?”
“We investigated all of Y/N’s accounts, and we did not find any extra deposits. Instead, we found monthly withdrawals. We followed the money, and it was going to an account created by John Diangelo, your personal assistant.”
“Fuck! Him too?” Scott growled, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder for solidarity.
Dianna nodded sympathetically. “Unfortunately, he seemed to be the mastermind of the whole operation. We went through his files and exchanges with Ms. L/N to see what the relationship was as we thought she was sending him the money she took from you to put in an offshore account like with Daniel, but there were only brief communication from prior years, most of them regarding your schedules. There were no indications that they talked beyond your schedule. We did, however, find a letter addressed to Ms. L/N in his computer about the terms your relationship with her.”
Chris tilted his head in confusion. “What terms?”
“In this letter, it said that in the case that you broke up with her for reasons that are unequivocally her fault, she will be forced to pay back the material cost of your relationship. Any time you paid for her, whether it was dinner or anniversary gifts, she must pay it back 100%. And as far as she knows, your separation was caused because you were “unhappy with her” as she quoted in our interrogation so she paid the cost.”
“What the fuck? We never had such agreements! That’s ridiculous- I would never make her do such things.” Chris was pissed, even more so than his staff stealing money, they were blackmailing people too. He thought they were pretty messed up to think of such things. Even in previous relationships where his girlfriend had cheated on him, lied to him, and manipulated him, he would never think to have them pay back.
“Ms. L/N confirmed that she had signed that agreement somewhere in the two-year make of your relationship. It was given to her by Mr. Diangelo privately in which he requested her utmost discretion, and it also had your signature.”
“What?! No- No- I never signed anything like that!”
“We sent the letter to your legal team, but we can almost confirm that Mr. Diangelo had forged your signature in that letter as your letter was on the file and there was no evidence of an original physical copy. Regardless, it is not a binding contract as it never went through any of your lawyers.”
“Unfortunately, Y/N doesn’t know that,” Jason continued. “She thought she did have to pay everything back, and we are trying to gather more information as we speak, but I’m guessing there are no merit to the numbers he pulled.”
“That’s fucking messed up!” Chris growled, one his hand resting on his hip and the other rubbing his chin anxiously.
“We cannot disclose the amount Ms. L/N paid Mr. Diangelo, but are working to finish up the investigation so the money can be returned to her.”
“So she wasn’t working with Daniel and John?” Chris confirmed, not knowing whether he preferred knowing the truth or not.
“We cannot draw any conclusions at this time,” Diana stated.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, the guilt starting to bubble in his stomach. “ Okay…” Chris shook hands with Diana before she parted ways. He then turned to Jason, “Was she involved at all?”
“Chris,” Jason said in a warning tone.
“Please- I- I just gotta know.”
“I just know from the financial side of things, and there was nothing to indicate that she was involved, Chris. She could’ve had the money transferred to another account or something, but so far nothing’s come up except for her payments to John.”
“Ho-How much did she pay?”
Jason sighed, shaking his head. “Chris, I can’t tell you that.”
“Please- Please just give me an approximate- I just need to know-”
“She paid 3⁄4 of it, including the damage fee. She said she wanted to get rid of the debt as soon as possible so you didn’t have to worry about it.”
“How much?”
“Chris-”
“How much?!” Chris all but yelled, standing up from his chair and knocking it over in the process. His chest was heaving, and his fist shaking as his eyes glossed with tears.
“The number he gave her was close to $40 000 that she had to pay in the span of five years, and in the event that she couldn’t pay the monthly installments, she would have to pay an interest of 10%- not to mention the damage fee that he included of $10 000.”
It was at that moment, Chris knew she was never involved. He felt like a huge fog has lifted from his brain, as if he finally cleared his brain after a bad hangover. The past few months felt like a nightmare, but it was then that he realized, this was his reality. His manager and personal assistant tricked him, manipulated him, stole from him, and he believed them when they said that his girlfriend was a part of it all. Even if she was, the way he treated her that night. Chris felt like a monster, a stranger living in his own skin. Looking back, he can’t even recognize himself, the words he said, the things he called her. They were unforgivable. “Jesus Christ, Jason. I-I-I fucked up. She wasn’t even at fault, and I blamed her.”
“We don’t know that, Chris. For all we know she could still have some part in this.”
Chris ignored him, shaking his head. He knew, and deep down he’s always known that she was never a part of this all. “Is she still here? Can I see her?” He looked around, desperate to see a glimpse of the woman he thought he would be his fiancee by now.
“She left already, said she needed to get to work.”
Scott peered at his brother from the corner of his eyes, looking more worried as Chris’s breathing got uneven. “Hey, hey, hey. C’mon-” He sat him down again, gently easing him into another chair. “C’mon, Chris. You gotta breathe.”
“She didn’t do anything wrong,” Chris cried repeatedly, face turning red at his inability to breathe. “She didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I’ll get him some water,” Jason said, giving his friend some space.
“She wasn’t- She wasn’t- She didn’t do anything wrong, Scotty.”
“Shh, shh. It’s okay. We don’t know that.”
“I said so many awful things to her.” Chris cried, his hand covering his mouth as bile crawled up his throat. “Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.”
Scott saw how pale Chris had gotten, turning around to grab the small garbage can and put it below the leaning man just as Chris coughed up bile.
“The- The baby!” Chris exclaimed, inadvertently knocking the paper cup from Jason’s hand as his hand grabbed his friend’s sleeve. “Was she- How’s the baby? Did you see her bump? Does she look healthy?”
Jason didn’t know how to answer that question. Before this whole ordeal, he has only seen Y/N through pictures from the press, and never met her in person. Either way, there was no way she was pregnant when he met her. “She- She didn’t look that pregnant?” Jason said uneasily, not knowing how to break the news.
“Wh-What?” Chris said to himself, shaking his head. “No… Please, God no… No, no, no... ” He shrunk back on the couch, whimpering how stupid he was, and rubbing his chest as if it could appease the weight on his heart as he realized his mistake.
<-- (Chapter 2) (Chapter 4) -->
- Tag List -
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#chris evans x reader#chris x reader#steve rogers x reader#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#Chris Evans fandom#chris evans oneshot#josephine writes#steve rogers#marvel#marvel fics#marvel oneshot#marvel fanfiction
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Watched in 2020: Just started edition
These are the dramas that I have started but haven’t watched enough to rank elsewhere in the list. Gonna do them all as one post since these really aren’t reviews.
Falling for Innocence, 2015
Country: Korea
Watched on: Viki
Kinda excited to watch this one because, following one of my favorite trends in Kdrama land - it pairs up two actors who had insane chemistry in one drama for another. In this case its Jung Kyung Ho and Yoon Hyun Min from Heartless City. And our female lead is Kim So Yeon who I frequently enjoy. I liked the first couple of episodes. It feels like your standard romance drama so I’m not expecting more than an easygoing - have on in the background - comfort watch. Just haven’t gotten around to episode 3.
Tale of the Nine-Tailed, 2020
Country: Korea
Watched on: Viki
I am DESPERATE to watch this but this is *just* the perfect drama for hubs and I to watch together. There’s something delightful about a crack-romcom when we watch it together. I watched the first ep and as much as it killed me I stopped before I could watch ep 2. We have a couple other dramas to finish before we get to this one but just know I’m dying inside.
Ashes of Love, 2018
Country: China
Watched on: Netflix
So this is cute. I’m loving the Chinese high-fantasy bits (this is my first real wuxia). There isn’t much substance here just yet but I find the characters adorable and the world engaging and Luo Yunxi compelling and striking so we’ll see how far I go.
The Uncanny Counter, 2020
Country: Korea
Watched on: Netflix
Ok this is gonna be biased af because I’m hip deep in the middle of this show (8 eps in) and I binged those first 8 in like 24 hours. I have absolutely no chill where this is concerned. I am obsessed. Found family, yes. Badass chicks, yes! Hot Ajusshi, Yes! Superheroes!?! YESS!!
So its ticking off all my checkboxes but on top of that, narratively it is hitting all its story and relationship beats *just* right its *chef’s kiss* perfect. I will wait til I finish it before I give a full review but oh man this is what I needed to round out the year.
2020 Year End Reviews Masterpost
#2020 Drama Reviews#the uncanny counter#ashes of love#tale of the nine-taile#falling for innocence#mousie reviews
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Author Interview Tag
@liathgray thanks for tagging me boo 😘🤗 this got longer than I thought it would be 😅
Name: Paulina but you can also call me Mundi on here (my url is too long 😂)
Fandom(s): these days I only write for DC Titans (like I literally cannot make myself to write about anything else, it's just not possible) but on my ao3 you can also find something for Avengers, Star Wars and my very first one was for CW Supergirl
Where you post: ao3 and Tumblr
Most popular oneshot (by kudos): A Miracle with 178 kudos - this fic was me coping after watching Avengers Endgame and trying to fix things that shouldn't happen (also because my heart was aching for a certain pair)
And close second, with 175 kudos is my very first fic for Titans - I Will Always Need You. Again, me coping, this time after season 1 finale. I was in desperate need for more father-daughter softness and since there were very few fics about that at the time, I said "screw this, I'm gonna do it myself."... And here we are.
Most popular multichapter fic: You Are The Best Thing That's Ever Been Mine - my first ever multichapter that wasn't supposed to be a multichapter at all at first. Written completely out of order and put together like puzzle pieces... But I guess my lack of organization worked out
Favorite story you've written so far: Purification. Because of the amount of work and dedication I have put into this fic and because it was the first time I came up with a very detailed and specific idea for a plot after always struggling to get something original. It was a breakthrough moment for me as a writer.
Fic you were nervous to post: There are two actually.
Chapter 8 of Purification. No Spoilers of course, but this chapter - the most important moment in this chapter - is what brought this story to life in my head. All started from an idea of this one particular moment and a question of what would be that moment's consequences? And as excited as I was to finally post it, I was also very anxious, because it's a very heavy, emotionally draining scene (I cried for 30 min after writing it). It deals with tragedy, with loss - a very specific kind of loss that might be triggering for some people. I was very scared of that.
The second one is It's Been a Year (And I Still Love You). It was the first fic I rated T and put additional trigger warnings on. It dives into topics like bullying, emotional abuse, neglect, childhood trauma and loss. It shows the first step to getting closure and the first one is always the hardest. I was scared to write it, I wasn't sure if I can tackle this topic but it was suggested to me more than once and I got positive encouragement so I did it.
How do you choose your titles: I really struggle with titles, though it got easier with time. I often turn to songs or I pick a word of a phrase from the story that feels like a key one. But my #1 rule is that the title needs to be matching the fic. It needs to be a part of the story. I want the readers to come back to it once they finish reading and be like "ohhhh so that's what it means. Now it makes sense!" The title itself is a clue for what's in the story.
Do you outline: I, uh... *nervous laughing* I'm not sure if I can call what I do "outlining". I get the idea for a scene, no background or context, sometimes with what I want to come out of it in the end. I build the story around it. I create as I go. I write 2000k words scenes that didn't even exist in my head when I opened the document. It just sort of... Happens. Also, I love talking to myself (at least she's willing to listen) so I often just walk around my room telling myself the story out loud, again - creating as I go.
Complete: 29 works officially posted on ao3 + there are 3 or 4 thingies lost in the vast space of my Tumblr blog (but I found them and put them in my fanfiction masterpost)
In progress: one currently at a little over 3000k words written
Coming soon/not yet started: one fix-it oneshot I had plans for since I have no idea how long but I am determined to sit down today and at least start writing it. But first I need to do a little rewatch for research.
Do you accept prompts: yes of course! I don't get much of them (if any) but I'm always open for new ideas!
Upcoming work that you’re most excited about: There's one... But it's a secret 👀🤐
Tagging some amazing writers. Even if we never spoke a word to each other (or maybe we have, long ago), please know that I absolutely love your works 🤗❤
@darkambersky @brejamison @riseofnightwing @ironxprince @undertheknightwing
And of course anyone who wants to do it 😁
#tag game#writer interview#fanfiction#writing#dc titans#star wars#the avengers#dick grayson#rachel roth
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The Bard And The Wolf - Chapter Seven
(AKA Geraskier in the Metal Band AU you didn’t know you needed)
AKA me desperately trying to catch up my Tumblr with what’s already been posted to AO3. ;)
The masterpost for this fic can be found HERE.
7 – You Stop This, Jaskier
All eyes turned to the door when Jaskier entered the rehearsal room, a big paper cup of coffee in one hand, a paper bag in the other.
“Fifteen minutes late with Starbucks,” Renfri smirked.
“I have two things to say to that, dear heart,” Jaskier said, taking a sip of his coffee. “First, I’m merely three minutes late. And second, I would never ever in my life set foot in a place as wretched as Starbucks, so don’t ever accuse me of something so horrible again!”
“Did you stop for a coffee or not, Jask?” Geralt chuckled.
“No. I stopped for something to eat. The coffee was an afterthought.”
He placed the cup on a little table next to the couch, sat down right next to Geralt and reached into the paper bag, pulling out a big sandwich which he immediately took a big bite of.
“Wow. Your night must have been really taxing,” Lambert laughed.
“Is Ciri around?” Jaskier mumbled.
“She’s walking Roach,” Geralt said.
“Good. In that case, my dears, I can tell you that my night was exquisite. I spent most of it in the middle of a very lovely, well… sandwich. Our fans really do get enthusiastic after a good show!” he grinned, but then he frowned. “Wait, who’s Roach?”
“What do you mean, who’s…” Renfri blinked. “Oh, of course, you haven’t met her yet. Roach is Geralt’s dog. Technically, she’s Roach number two.”
“Oh,” Jaskier said. “Right.”
“She’s a husky,” Eskel added.
“Of course she is. And… She’s coming here with Ciri?” he beamed.
“Yeah. In a few minutes,” Geralt nodded. “But don’t touch Roach. She doesn’t trust strangers. I adopted her a few months ago when Roach number one died. She wasn’t even one year old, but her life must have been really shitty before, so…”
“Poor little thing.”
“Yeah, she’s definitely not like Roach number one,” Renfri sighed. “That was such a sweet girl. This one is like a tornado.”
“But of course Geralt still adores her,” Eskel said.
“Yes. I seem to have a thing for totally unpredictable and crazy individuals,” Geralt smirked. “Jesus, Jask, are you seriously going to wolf down the whole thing? This must be the biggest sandwich mankind has ever seen. How does it even fit in your mouth?”
“Lots of practice.”
“Eating sandwiches?” Lambert said, cocking his eyebrow. “Or stuffing large things into your mouth?”
“The latter,” Jaskier grinned. “And stop giving me that look, Geralt. I’m hungry and I refuse to look like a starving bag of muscle like some of us do.”
“Some of us, Jaskier?” Geralt asked.
“Come on, I saw you getting dressed before the gig yesterday. I mean, yeah, big muscles, ripped body, it’s meant to be sexy, but it only means you should definitely eat more. A little layer of some nice, protective fat would do you good.”
“Don’t waste your breath,” Renfri muttered. “He keeps his body like that because Yennefer liked it.”
“I keep my body like that because I like it,” Geralt growled.
“Well, don’t mind me then,” Jaskier shrugged, getting another bite of his sandwich. “I just tend to like men who are strong and a little bit soft at the same time. Like Eskel here. But that’s just my problem. If you want to look like this, go on. Hey. Hey! That’s my sandwich!”
“You said I should eat more, didn’t you?” Geralt smirked, effortlessly wrestling Jaskier’s snack out of his hands.
“Yes, but I didn’t mean my sandwich, you ass!”
“Too bad,” Geralt said, biting into it. “Oh, this is delicious!”
“So glad you like it,” Jaskier muttered. “I’m hungry over here, you know?”
“Shut it. You already have that layer of nice, protective fat,” Geralt mumbled.
“Yeah, yeah. Didn’t use to, you know?” Jaskier sighed, grabbing his coffee. At least something to soothe his hunger. “I used to be really thin. Always hungry. Because Valdo always used to tell me Oh, Julian, look, those tight pants would look so nice on you, too bad you’re not a size smaller. Oh, Julian, sweetie, look a this guy’s thighs, they don’t even touch each other, isn’t that beautiful? Julian, is that a tiramisu? Yeah, it’s a fucking tiramisu, you ass, and I’ll have as much as I want. Ugh. Can’t believe I wasted two years of my life with that bitch.”
A complete silence fell in the rehearsal room and Jaskier suddenly saw everyone was staring at him with mouths agape.
“I’m sorry,” Lambert finally said, after a few long moments. “Did you say Valdo?”
“Mhmf,” Jaskier muttered, trying to hide his face behind his coffee cup.
“As in Valdo Marx?” Eskel specified.
“Might have,”Jaskier peeped.
“Are you telling us that you dated fucking Valdo Marx for two years?!” Renfri yelled. “And you starved yourself for him?!”
“We broke up three years ago!” Jaskier said, throwing his arms open and nearly knocking the sandwich out of Geralt’s hand. “I was an idiot, okay? I thought I was glad to have found him, thought no one would be ever able to love the real me, blah blah blah. Took me way too long to realize I was being a total idiot and break up with him. He’s hated me ever since and my mother’s yet to speak to me again.”
“Your mother?” Eskel frowned.
“She thought Valdo and I would get married, adopt a kid and I would become a perfect housewife for him,” Jaskier sighed.
“Wow. She doesn’t know you at all, does she?” Renfri chuckled.
“Not in the slightest, honey.”
Lambert shook his head.
“Honestly, I’m still trying to process that someone like you would spend two years fucking that insufferable prick. Valdo Marx. Fuck.”
“Could we maybe stop discussing Valdo fucking Marx?” Geralt grunted. “Has anyone read the reactions to the gig yet? Because I haven’t.”
“Yes. Thank you, my lovely white wolf. Absolutely. Let’s focus on the reviews, because I kind of haven’t had the time yet to...”
The door swung open and a large husky came barging in, heading straight for the couch.
“Roach! Stop!” Ciri yelled behind the dog.
Roach stopped in front of Geralt, sniffed at his sandwich, and then turned her head to Jaskier.
The bard, remembering that the dog didn’t like strangers, avoided her eyes and merely offered her his hand. The next thing he knew, he had a massive dog in his lap and a wet nose was enthusiastically sniffing at his face.
He yelped when a broad tongue licked his nose.
“What was it you said about her not liking strangers?”
“I’ve never seen her do anything like this before, I swear!” Geralt chuckled, taking a coffee cup from Jaskier’s hand so it wouldn’t spill. “Roach, get down. Bad girl.”
The dog gave a tiny, desperate whine.
“I said get down,” Geralt repeated.
Roach turned her body to Geralt, eyed his sandwich and whined again.
“What did we say about begging for food?”
She lowered her head and looked pleadingly at her owner.
“Oh, I love her already,” Jaskier laughed. “Will love her even more when she stops crushing my crotch. Hi, Ciri, by the way.”
“Hi, Jaskier,” the girl replied. “Sorry, dad. I didn’t think she would do that. Where did you get the sandwich?”
“Stole it. Shamelessly!” Jaskier huffed. “Geralt, your dog is heavy as hell, you know it?”
“Roach. Get. The fuck. Down.”
Another whine.
“Oh, dear,” Jaskier chuckled. “Well, can someone at least read me those reviews and make me happy before I die?”
“Don’t you have your own phone?” Geralt asked.
“I do. In my pocket. Underneath your dog.”
“Right. Ciri?”
The girl already had the phone in her hand.
“On it.”
“Good,” Jaskier muttered. “And give me back my coffee, Geralt, because if you decide to steal that too, my chances of survival will grow even lower than they are now!”
“You really are such a drama queen, Jask…
*
“The Bard and the Wolf? What the hell is that?” Geralt frowned after the third (very positive) fan review of their gig. He had already finished Jaskier’s sandwich, and even managed to get Roach down from Jaskier’s lap. That seemed to be a mistake, as the dog clearly decided to hate him for that – judging by the fact that she was currently sitting on the floor by Jaskier’s leg and tapping his hand with her paw every time he had the audacity to stop petting her. She was completely ignoring Geralt’s very existence.
“Oh, that’s a new hasthtag. My creation,” Renfri said. “I needed to tag a pic with you two, and I thought of this...”
“What, instead of The Witcher and the Witch?” Lambert asked.
“And what’s that?” Jaskier asked before he could think better of it.
He should have expected the answer, of course.
“The hashtag people used to use for Geralt and Yennefer,” Eskel explained. “It was her character. A witch.”
“Oh, good,” Jaskier muttered. “Shouldn’t it have been The Witcher and the Bard, then?”
“Doesn’t have the same ring to it,” Renfri shrugged. “Besides, Geralt’s more of a Wolf, really.”
“True,” Jaskier nodded. “But to be honest, I don’t think it’s gonna stick.”
“You’re probably right,” Renfri nodded. “I’ve seen it used like… four times. But everyone calls you The Bard.”
“Perfect,” Jaskier grinned. “What do you think, Roach, isn’t it perfect? No, no, no! Roach! My coffee!”
He shrieked as the dog suddenly turned and jumped back onto his lap, knocking the cup out of his hand.
“Oh, dear, even dogs adore him,” Lambert sighed. “How is that fair?”
“Geralt!” Jaskier yelled. “Geralt, would you help me instead of fucking laughing?!”
“So sorry, dear heart,” Geralt chuckled. “But I think Roach has found her new favorite human.”
“I’m really glad to hear that! Oh, Geralt, you’re so gonna pay for this shirt!”
*
A few hours later, Jaskier was sitting on the couch in his living room, sipping wine and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling through his social media.
He knew he shouldn’t. He knew that it was narcissistic and, well, stupid. But he had to see. Had to convince himself that it hadn’t only been his imagination that afternoon.
He had to convince himself that yes, Kaer Morhen’s fans really did like his mad, cheeky, queer self. There were even a few who claimed that he was an improvement on Yennefer. An improvement! It was a dream come true.
He forced himself to stop and he put his phone down. Took a sip. Picked his phone back up.
He couldn’t help himself.
He gulped when he saw that Ciri had posted a new photo from the rehearsal room. A photo of Jaskier and Geralt sitting on the couch, with Roach on Jaskier’s lap. It must have been shortly after Roach knocked the coffee out of Jaskier’s hand, because Geralt was clearly laughing and Jaskier was just starting to.
Roach meeting @jaskierthebard for the first time. In case you couldn’t tell, she really hates strangers... #thebardandthewolf #andawolf #loveatfirstsight #husky #dogsofinstagram
Jaskier smiled and liked the post, and then kept looking at the picture a little longer.
He really loved Geralt’s expression there. It was so open, so happy and so damn beautiful.
Jaskier sighed, forced himself to put the phone down and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t stop himself from seeing the white haired man’s face.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” he whispered to himself. “You stop this, Jaskier. You stop this right now, because if you don’t, you’ll only get in trouble.”
He could stop his thoughts, yes. But he couldn’t stop his heart from beating a little faster.
*
Geralt knocked on his daughter’s door.
“Ciri, it’s eleven already. Lights out.”
He waited, but she didn’t answer, so he opened the door carefully.
The girl was asleep on her bed, dressed in her pajamas, with her laptop next to her.
Geralt took the laptop and the screen lit up. He stopped and blinked. Ciri had a new wallpaper – of Geralt, Jaskier and Roach in the rehearsal room.
He looked at the picture and smiled. He really had never seen Roach fall for someone so fast, but here she was, sitting on the bard’s lap, happy as ever.
And Jaskier…
Geralt shut the laptop and shook his head to clear it.
No. He wasn’t going to go there. No way.
He placed the laptop on a table, covered Ciri with a blanket and kissed her forehead.
“Good night, honey,” he whispered to her. “Sweet dreams.”
He turned off the light and closed the door behind himself.
Continue witch Chapter Eight
#geraskier#jaskier x geralt#geralt x jaskier#the witcher#the witcher fanfiction#witcher fanfiction#the bard and the wolf#my fics
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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒌𝒚 𝑰𝒔 𝒂 𝑺𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏 ❧ 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑰
A/N: thank you guys for a hundred followers! Sorry about the delay between the uploads, I haven’t been writing a lot lately and I’m still working on the chapter after this. I figured that posting this would be a good way to celebrate a hundred! Hope you enjoy the series, and remember that I’m always open to feedback, questions, etc :)
Word count: 1.4K
Series masterpost
It was twenty-seven years after your final encounter with It when you were called. It was funny, since, like you were of the passing of time, you were unaware of who was on the other line. It took a minute of recollection to realize what the Derry, ME on the phone screen meant to you, and who this man was saying he was. Then it all began to flood back.
“Hello?”
“Is this (Y/N) (L/N)?” you heard on the other line.
“Yes, who is this?”
“It’s Mike. Mike Hanlon, from Derry.”
Derry. The word was so familiar. So strange at the tip of your tongue, yet so… mnemonic. It was the name of your hometown.
“Oh my goodness… Mike, hi, it’s so good to talk to you again.”
It was the place that had seemed to escape your mind for almost twenty years. Where you grew up. Went to school. And, through odd circumstances, formed your strongest relationships and deepest fears. It also wasn’t just the odd place, you thought, that was flitting back into your memories; it was also the people.
“I agree. However, the subject at hand isn’t exactly the most lighthearted.”
It was also the events.
“Hold on… This couldn’t possibly be about—”
The dreaded summer of ’89.
“I hate to say it, but it is. It has returned, (Y/N). You need to come back home.”
The vivid image of that horrid clown pierced your mind for the first time in years. Those were the thoughts that were burned into your brain for the rest of your high school career, only fading when you escaped Derry to attend college.
“I’ll— I’ll make plans to leave as soon as possible, Mike. You’ve called the others? Are they gonna come?”
You remembered your friends, the Losers, the misfits that banded together. There was stuttering Bill Denbrough. Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier. Beverly Marsh. Eddie Kaspbrak the hypochondriac. Ben Hanscom.
“I’ve called almost everyone by now.”
And there was Stanley Uris, the boy who was there for it all.
He was your love and your fear— it was terrifying to realize. While the illusion of the tarantula towering over you was scary enough to your thirteen-year-old self, the thought that came after was much more shattering. The thought of losing him.
“…Do you have Stanley’s number?”
Even though you were deemed too young to have known what love was at the time, you knew that Stanley was too important to you to possibly lose. And that was exactly what you were shown. Being vulnerable, especially after Its assault on him, it was heartbreaking for you to see two of him.
One had begged for you to be okay, telling you that he was there for you, that he would never, ever, ever leave you, that you were everything to him. His voice was hoarse from his previous panicking, screaming, sobbing, and it was ever so desperate when he called out to you. He had blood and sweat and tears staining his face that was bent with fear and worry. He had fresh wounds on the sides of his face from where he was bitten by that horribly warped lady.
The other begged for you to save him, telling you to stop hurting him, that you were killing him, that he would be gone because of you. His voice was hard with disappointment and accusation, sharp enough to pierce your heart and break it permanently. He had blood dried in smears across his face and more of it leaking and sputtering from his lips as he berated you. He had the palest, most lifeless skin, and his eyes were even more so. This impression —Its impression— on your feeble mind was almost emotionally fatal.
The confusion and paranoia lasted a fair amount of time since then.
Completely unwilling to recover and clean up by yourself that day, you accompanied Stan home. You worried that if you weren’t there with him, he would be gone and you would see that deathly vision in his place.
You insisted on helping him disinfect his wounds, even as your hands were trembling, and he eventually had to take care of the matter himself. It was a bit of a predicament for the both of you. You did, however, manage to secure the bandages around his head when he finished. He then cleaned up your scratches for you. It was slightly difficult with one hand, for you were tightly gripping his other one in your own, but he was innovative and concentrated. You just needed to be sure he was beside you.
“Yes, I do. It’s four-oh-four…”
When the oath was made at the Barrens, everyone received a cut on their palm as a token of their promise. You winced as the glass shard pierced your skin, immediately cradling your other hand beneath the cut one. Soon, though, your bloodied hand gripped Stan’s.
You had felt him squeeze your hand, lightly and mindfully enough so that it wouldn’t hurt; a sign of comfort. You gazed at him with such a deep look of admiration in your eyes. The sight of his bandages made your heart ache.
On your right, you held Mike’s hand, and everyone together formed a circle. The eight of you stayed there for a few silent moments before letting your hands fall back to your sides. Your hold on Stan’s was more prolonged.
“Okay, thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Stan had glanced at you and then looked up at Bill, who was across from him. I gotta go. Your breath hitched and your heart dropped. I hate you, he told Bill. One by one, everyone cracked grins and laughed. Your smile was a weak echo of the others’. You were nervous.
When the laughter died down, Stan caught your eye. I’ll see you later, he said softly. He began walking, setting out towards home, but he also let himself linger a moment or two longer.
Yeah, same. Bye, guys, you said with a wave to the group. While you didn’t want to leave everyone so abruptly, you couldn’t be without Stan after what It had shown you. The Losers parted ways with the two of you.
“Bye, (Y/N). Be seeing you tomorrow. Travel safe.” Mike ended the call.
When you met up with Stan —you had to rush only a little since he had gotten a head start— it was oddly silent at first. You began overthinking. Does he notice how I’m practically following him around like a lost puppy? I’m probably annoying him really badly. Does he know what I saw? Why I’m so afraid?
You looked between your cell phone and the notepad that you had scrawled a cursory phone number onto. Stan’s number. You hadn’t even realized that your heart was throbbing until then.
Stan, I’m sorry, you told him on your walk. I just— I can’t be alone right now, after everything that’s happened. I should probably be going home, but…
With the foreboding weight of your fear on your shoulders and with shaky hands, you began punching in the numbers. Four… zero… four…
It’s okay, he said quietly in return. He didn’t prod or ask for an explanation, but it did seem like he already knew. However, at that moment, you had a tacit agreement not to ask each other what you had seen.
The dial tone sounded, echoing through your head. One ring.
You remembered spending that day at his house, practically locked in his room. Neither of you wanted to talk about what had happened —not then, at least— but it was evident that you both needed comfort and protection from it.
Two rings.
You made small talk as you sat about a foot apart on his neatly made bed. You learned more about each other. That foot was reduced to inches. You confided in each other. Those inches were reduced to closeness. You cried to each other. That closeness became contact— shoulder to shoulder. You consoled each other. That contact became an embrace.
Three rings.
You spent that night in his arms, needing the constant reassurance that he would be there. That he was real. That he was okay. That he still believed in you. There was always a raging mental battle going on— you could never tell if he was there or just another twisted illusion.
The line connected.
Was he there?
#stan the man#mine#fic recs#tsiash#tsiash chapter one#tsiash series#the sky is a safe haven#the sky is a safe haven series#stan uris#stanley uris#adult!stan uris#adult!stanley uris#stan uris imagine#stanley uris imagine#stan uris x reader#stanley uris x reader#adult!stan uris imagine#adult!stanley uris imagine#adult!stan uris x reader#adult!stanley uris x reader#it chapter 2#it chapter two#it imagine#it chapter two fic#losers club imagine#adult!losers club#losers club x reader#adult!losers club x reader#madrcar writes
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Believe Again: Chapter Five
Rating: Mature Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition Relationships: Cullen Rutherford x Female Trevelyan Tags: slow burn, slow build, slow romance, mage/templar dynamics, family drama, templars, mages, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, lyrium withdrawal, crisis of faith, loss of faith, The Chantry, sexual tension, innuendo
MASTERPOST:
A/N: Tags to be updated. Chapters posted on the 1st Thursday of the month.
<-PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER->
CHAPTER Five - Elsie
...so I met the Herald of Andraste this morning. She’s already becoming pretty famous around these parts but after meeting her, I was struck by how normal she was. A woman just shy of thirty, and a mage. I watched as she helped drive away the apostates and rogue templars from the Crossroads and I was impressed. Her magic is scary, like all mages, but from the little I know of the art I could see that she had immense control and I felt like I was witnessing something special to see her wield it. I know that contradicts what I said about her being normal. Maybe that’s why people like her already - myself included
- Part of a letter sent by Scout Lace Harding to her mother
5. Elsie
Although horse riding was in her blood and she had been on horseback more in the past year than most of her life put together; Elsie was still desperately out of practice, especially when travelling roads she didn't know with a mare who was almost as stubborn as she was. By the time they had made camp that first evening on their journey, Elsie was no closer to getting on with her horse who had the most ridiculous name of Buttercup. Normally such a name would not offend her, but Buttercup was so unlike her namesake in both looks and temperament that Elsie couldn’t help but resent it.
Perhaps she was projecting her bubbling anger unknowingly on the poor mare. For most of the day, Elsie’s thoughts had been consumed with that of Commander Cullen. Cold, calculated, emotionless ex-templar, she thought bitterly as she set up her tent by a stream with the others.
“I think I’m going to pitch my tent away from the Herald,” Varric said with a wink. “She looks like she’s about to set something on fire, and I’m rather fond of my chest hair.”
Elsie rolled her eyes but managed a smile. “I’m sorry, I’m just-”
“Brooding?” Varric interjected.
She frowned at him. “I wasn’t brooding,” she muttered.
Varric laughed. “Believe me Dimples, I know brooding when I see it. I learnt from the expert also known as Fenris.”
Elsie didn’t reply and continued to pitch her tent in silence but tried to act more calmly. She was annoyed with the Commander and frustrated about how they had left things: she would much rather resolve the conflict upfront than sit and stew, which she had done for most of the day. Also, considering he had stayed in Haven, his obvious resentment towards her would no doubt be exacerbated by her absence, especially as she was not there to defend herself.
She heaved a sigh and instead turned back to Varric who was now reclining on a blanket outside of his tent.
“You’re from Kirkwall, right Varric?” she asked slowly, taking a seat on a log near him.
“Well if that’s not a loaded question, I don’t know what is,” he chuckled. “Out with it Dimples - you know I’m from Kirkwall...for better or worse.”
Elsie spread her hands as she searched for the right words. “Alright - Commander Cullen was from Kirkwall too, yes? Did you know him? Was he part of the mage uprising?”
Varric looked at her closely before shaking his head. “Alright, I’ll tell you Herald… but you’re not going to like it.”
*
The ride the next day was even more subdued as Elsie mulled over everything Varric had told her. Oh, like many apostates she had read his ‘Tales of the Champion’, whilst on the run, with the desire to know more about the mage couple who had started the rebellion. Her sister Evelyn had even been stationed at the Gallows before the trouble really started and had once mentioned in passing that she had met the Champion. Not for the first time, Elsie wished she could speak to her sister again, to ask her if she knew Cullen - surely their paths would’ve crossed on occasion, especially if he had been a commanding officer? She made a mental note to ask him about Evelyn once they were on better speaking terms… if that were to happen.
“So the Commander of the Inquisition just… turned a blind eye? Let things escalate and did nothing?” Elsie asked Varric that following evening.
Varric blinked at the sudden change in subject but recovered quickly. “I suppose that’s something you would need to ask him yourself. But he stood up against Meredith with us in the end.”
“In the end,” Elsie repeated slowly. “Some of what I’ve heard from mages who escaped the Gallows-”
“Are exaggerations, no doubt,” Cassandra interrupted, walking past them on her way to her tent. She looked down at them, her hands on her hips. “None of us were truly there in the Gallows or in the ranks. A Templar doesn’t question orders - that’s what makes them excellent soldiers.”
“But people died because he chose to look the other way!” Elsie replied heatedly, getting to her feet. She had been sitting and stewing on this fact for most of the day, and could feel her hands shaking.
“I think he knows that, Dimples,” Varric said quietly.
“Indeed,” Cassandra continued. “What matters now is that he made the right choices and was invaluable with the relief efforts in Kirkwall. That’s what I saw when I sought to recruit him - a brilliant soldier and swordsman, unafraid to admit he was wrong and more than willing to atone.” With that, Cassandra retreated into her tent without another word.
Varric and Elsie lapsed into a companionable silence, and the dwarf plucked at his crossbow idly whilst staring into the campfire, his mind obviously back in Kirkwall or someplace. Elsie thought over Cassandra’s words and offered a small smile to Solas who sat down opposite her and pulled out a book. She watched the elf set his staff down carefully on the ground by his feet and flick open a couple of pages before finding his place where he had left off. A prickle of magic she was now becoming familiar with and Elsie knew that Solas had just returned from setting wards around their little camp. She felt his soft magic flow silently around them and that’s when she remembered something that she had been sitting on since her talk with Varricc the previous evening.
She peered over her shoulder at Cassandra’s tent before leaning in closer to Varric, her voice low. “Can I ask you something?”
“You already have, but I guess you have another question?” he grinned, and Elsie gave him a gentle swat on the arm in response.
“Just something you said about Commander Cullen yesterday that’s been on my mind… does he really not see mages as people?” her mouth felt dry as she asked and Solas looked up from the book he was reading.
Varric’s good and contemplative mood evaporated and he looked down at his feet, rubbing his chin as he decided how to answer.
“You don’t forget something like that,” he admitted slowly. “But Curly has changed an awful lot since then; you would have to ask him yourself.”
Elsie rolled her eyes. “Sure, because we are such good friends.”
“Perhaps we need to give Cullen the benefit of the doubt,” Solas said, ever calm. “It’s the least we can do if we don’t want him to judge us as much as we are apparently judging him.”
She noted the quiet rebuke but didn’t comment on it. “I just feel like he’s watching us all the time - like when we were training before we left Haven.”
“With all due respect Elsie, it wasn’t me he was staring at,” Solas said, a wry smile tugging on the corners of his mouth.
“Oh really?” Varric said eagerly, threading his fingers together. “Do tell me more. Would you say he was ‘enraptured’? Besotted?”
Heat coursed through Elsie. “Really Varric,” she shook her head.
Varric ignored her. “Is the Commander Templar pining for the Herald mage I wonder? Opposites do attract after all.”
Elsie crossed her arms and regarded him coolly, hoping her warm cheeks didn’t give her away. “The journey must be making you weary for you are delusional,” she said calmly, although her gut twisted at the thought of him watching her as a person, as a woman, and not because she was a mage. “Besides, I don’t think the Commander could manage friendship with a mage, let alone be intimate with one.”
“Who said anything about intimacy?” Varric grinned, and Elsie wanted to put her fist in her mouth. She looked over at Solas for some support but the elf was smiling down at his book, refusing to meet her eye.
“Come now Dimples! Curly isn’t exactly hard on the eyes now, is he?”
He’s right about that , she admitted silently, thinking of his strong jaw and chiselled cheekbones.
“Don’t forget the thrill of a forbidden romance,” the dwarf continued.
“What are you, a smutty romance writer?” she said, playing close attention to her gloves.
“I have been known to dabble.”
“Maker’s balls,” she swore. “If you are quite finished, I’m going to bed before you say any more ridiculous nonsense and start naming children or some other hogwash,” she said, waving a hand.
“That’s some pretty strong denial there,” Solas smiled.
Elsie glared at him. “Traitor,” she mumbled, hiding a smile as she got to her feet. “This conversation is over. Goodnight!”
She strode to her tent, the sounds of the elf and the dwarf’s laughter following her. “Have pleasant dreams of Curly!” Varric called after her.
Oh, how she wished she could slam a tent flap shut.
Needless to say, Elsie took a few moments to collect herself, although the taunting words of Varric and Solas rang in her ears. Cullen was a troubled, complicated man with a dark past and perhaps she had given him too little credit. And yet, as Elsie undressed and slipped into a simple nightdress, her hands lingered on her collarbone and her waist and she wondered what it would feel like if his breath tickled her neck and if it were his hands on her instead of her own -
Abruptly, she snatched her hands away, as if scolded. Maker, am I that desperate for comfort? So eager for the touch of another person that she would fantasise about a man she barely knew and antagonised her so? Stupid handsome Commander , she thought. It was his fault being - as Varric had said - not so bad on the eyes. She wasn’t sure if that made her dislike him more or less.
Despite her self-scolding, Elsie did dream of the Commander and as was typical of the Fade, it distorted the reality. She saw him as a Templar in Ostwick, walking the hallways she had known so well for many years. And in her dreams he was softer but strong, and pressed her quietly up against the library shelves, tucked away in secret corners, giving in to temptation.
A cold dip in the river the following morning chased all heated thoughts away, and as their journey continued, she sobered greatly as they faced demons and closed a rift which had already taken the lives of a small farming family. The next few days were much the same, which gave the small group a chance to practice working and fighting together. As they finally descended into the Hinterlands proper, Elsie was too full of simple wonder admiring the luscious green landscape to even complain about her saddle sores. The tall trees, the long grass and the tame fennecs were enough to calm her soul and soon all confusing thoughts of the Commander of the Inquisition had fled her mind.
The beauty of the landscape was a sharp contrast to the bloodshed they soon encountered.
The Crossroads were a mess. They left their horses to recover at the forward camp with Scout Harding and descended into the valley on foot. As the screams and shouts became louder, Elsie exchanged a worried glance with Cassandra, who nodded grimly and drew her sword. They rounded the corner and saw the scuffle between Inquisition soldiers, Templars and mages; so the foursome prepared themselves as they had practiced: Solas set a ward over them all, Varric slung Bianca from over his shoulder and Cassandra braced in a warrior pose whilst flames licked Elsie’s fingers.
Despite their plans to not fight them, both the Templars and apostates refused to listen. Elsie wrapped her flames around a Templar who boiled in his metal armour screaming in agony. She then felt a dreaded tingle of blood magic from behind her and spun on her heel, twirled her staff and shot a fireball at an apostate before they could finish summoning a demon. Their robes were set alight and the blood mage screamed in both pain and frustration as she summoned an ice cloud over her to douse the flames. However, she was too slow as Cassandra skidded on her knees past Elsie and lunged upwards with her sword to dig her weapon into the mage’s gut.
She spluttered blood from her mouth, her eyes wide, before she grinned sadistically at Cassandra. In a pool of blood and magic, the mage transformed into a hideous abomination and Elsie shuddered involuntarily as it screeched at them. It swung its huge, unnatural arms down at Cassandra, who quickly blocked with her shield, but she was too slow, and the abomination ripped it away from her arm, causing the Seeker to cry out in pain with what Elsie quickly summarised was likely a broken wrist.
Instinct took over and Elsie summoned fire to wrap around the abomination as she ran forward and reached behind her back to grab her dagger. As her flames distracted the creature, she lunged up with her sharp blade and slashed its throat. It screeched in agony, but the cut wasn’t deep enough to be fatal. Elsie spun on her heel and swung her staff over her head, which was alight and burning with her magic. She went to strike again, aiming her dagger for the gut this time, but the abomination reached down and grabbed Elsie by the throat, dragging her off her feet. She dropped her dagger from her left hand and her staff from her right, and both fell to the cobbled ground with a clatter. She clawed desperately at the creature’s grossly malformed hands that were squeezing her throat, but her vision began to blur, even when the abomination leaned closer and whispered, with rotted breath ‘traitor’.
Elsie almost stopped struggling as she processed the word it had uttered. Fear groped her and she tried to gulp for air but its grip was strong -
Shuck.
She fell to the ground, suddenly free and sucked in as much air as she could with large, rasping gasps. Confused, she pulled herself to her feet and peered over at the now still abomination. A crossbow bolt was embedded between its rolled, bloodshot eyes. She turned to see Varric give her a quick wink before he turned and helped Solas with the final stragglers.
Cassandra stood leaning against a fence post, cradling her arm. “It’s over,” she said, looking around them.
Elsie nodded, unable to summon her voice. She looked around and saw body after fallen body litter the ground. Almost all the deceased were rogue templars or apostates and yet she did not feel particularly relieved about that fact. She didn’t really feel much of anything and went over to heal Cassandra’s wrist with a flick of magic she barely had to think about.
Traitor
Rubbing her neck sore neck and shrugging off Cassandra’s thanks, Elsie walked between the bodies as Inquisition soldiers began to sort and pile them up. Cassandra and Varric followed her every move like her shadow, but Solas remained apart and went to help with the physicians and offer his healing magic. Elsie knew she needed to join him and offer her limited skill of healing, but for her at that moment, it was important for her to look down on the faces of the people who had died - the people she had killed. Faces of men and women, elves and people passed her by, but the body of a blonde elven mage in tattered Circle robes gave her pause. The elf’s eyes were open, her green gaze staring at nothingness. She had no markings on her face, save for the bruises and blood from the skirmish and her ashen hair was clumps of blood tangled in it. She had one lone earring in her right ear and the metal was worn, as if regularly rubbed. Elsie wondered if it had been given to her by her mother, or a friend or a lover?
“It is war,” Varric mumbled from beside her, as Elsie let out a ragged breath. She reached forward and closed the elf’s eyes, her skin already cold.
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” she replied bitterly. How many did I kill today? She thought. How many fellow mages? How many of my sister’s comrades?
“Herald,” Cassandra said, crossing her arms. “Elsie?” she said quietly when Elsie looked up at her. “We should report to Corporal Vale-”
“No, not yet,” Elsie said, regaining her composure and turning her back on the dead elf. “I need to help heal the wounded and speak to Mother Giselle. The rest can wait.”
“But-”
Elsie strode on past the Seeker and headed towards Solas who was crouched by a row of stretchers. “By all mean go and see the Corporal - but I’ve got work to be getting on with,” and with that, Elsie knelt down next to Solas and downed a lyrium potion before setting her hands on a soldier’s thigh and applying pressure.
*
Three days after the skirmish, Elsie had spoken to Mother Giselle, but she had still not left the Crossroads, much to Cassandra’s agitation. The injured were many and everyday more came in the hopes of being seen by a healer or someone who could help them. Broken families and quiet children became a common sight to Elsie as she helped heal those in the greatest of need.
It was on the fifth day that Cassandra finally dared to approach her directly. They had not spoken to one another since Elsie’s cool dismissal and she had barely spared a thought for the Seeker - Elsie’s primary concern was helping those in need and she said as much to Cassandra when they spoke as Elsie finished wrapping a bandage around a young man’s arm.
“I spoke to Mother Giselle before she left for Haven,” Cassandra said levelly, watching Elsie work.
“Did you indeed,” she replied, not looking up from her task as her fingers worked deftly to complete the dressing.
“Yes and she said she spoke to you about appealing to the Chantry directly in Val Royeaux-”
“And I will,” Elsie interrupted, tying a knot, and tugging on it to test the strength. “But I cannot even think about journeying to Orlais when my work here is not finished.”
Cassandra frowned and crossed her arms. She was silent for a moment as she considered her next words. “You are needed elsewhere, Herald. We must return to Haven at once to plan with the others about how we approach the Chantry in Val Royeaux!”
Elsie remained silent as she checked her handiwork and smiled at the soldier. “How does that feel?”
The young man nodded gratefully. “Much better, thank you, Your Worship.”
She got to her feet and wiped her hands on a cloth. “You’re welcome. Now, make sure you rest and you’ll be back swinging a sword in no time.”
“Yes, Your Worship,” he mumbled, lowering his eyes.
Elsie walked into the main cabin and approached the desk where she made a note on the patient’s care on a ledger. She idly rubbed her neck as she wrote, as the bruising there was still painful and was turning a grotesque shade of purple. Cassandra followed her and waited as patiently as she could, which Elsie knew she was pushing. Finally, she turned to the Seeker.
“I’ve spoken to Corporal Vale - there is much work to be done here: much more than healing these people.”
Cassandra bristled. “So let the healers and physicians take over and let us return to-”
“No, I cannot,” Elsie said sharply, cutting Cassandra off. “Whilst the healers can now cope with the wounded here, what about outside of this valley? Cassandra, the King’s Road is not safe for these people to leave and return to their homes. We need to stop the Templars and apostates, not to mention the raiders and mercenaries, otherwise our leaving would just undo all of the work done thus far and endanger the lives of those we have already saved!” she exclaimed. Her voice had risen unintentionally and a few patients in the beds around them looked over at them both curiously. Closing her eyes, Elsie took a breath before continuing more calmly. “Don’t you see? If we alleviate the threat in the Hinterlands, word will spread of the good and sustainable work the Inquisition is doing - which will hole more sway and influence when we eventually do go to Val Royeaux.” Elsie’s hand’s shook, so she clasped them together, hoping the Seeker had not noticed. “And I know it must be me that helps - you must’ve read the reports from Vale: there are rifts all over the Hinterlands only I can close.”
The two women stared each other down for a moment until Cassandra finally spoke begrudgingly. “It seems you’ve thought a great deal about this.”
Elsie shrugged. “It helps to think and keep the mind busy when you’re wrapping bandages and the like,” she replied, in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Cassandra signed and conceded. “Very well. Your theory is sound, even though I don’t fully agree. I know for sure the others back at Haven won’t approve either.”
Elsie smiled faintly. “Well I am sure they will cope,” she said dryly, just knowing the reports the Commander would receive about her stubbornness to cooperate to his orders would drive him mad. “In any case, I will write to them - personally - to explain our plans.”
“That would be helpful, I suppose.”
“Excellent,” Elsie grinned, rubbing her hands together. “Now, will you help me give these poor folk some lunch?”
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