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asklesbianonceler · 4 months ago

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My Analysis on Count Ymir and Metyr

This is my personal analysis on the lore and plot as a whole, Carians vs other sorcerers, an Ymir character study, a Metyr study, and my take on it in regards to gender and deeper themes and motifs. (From a positive lens)

Blue is for things added later: last updated 8/20

I've made a post on sorcerers and their downfalls prior to this and it is still extremely important to look at the differences between sorcerers who go too far like Sellen, Azur, Lusat, and graven masses as a whole vs Ymir. Because Ymir is most closely related to Rennala, literally and narratively. They are both Carians and experience "corruption" via a similar outlet.

Sellen, and the others who looked into the primeval current, only craved knowledge. They were far more detached from the beauty and divinity of everything around them and aimed to know too much. Graven masses are students who go too far. Even Thopps somehow dies from studying too hard. This happens because of their own actions. We don't kill or fight them.

There's one thing that is consistent with all Carians. Their downfall is their hearts. Ranni makes this so clear with her poorly veiled attempts at avoiding attachment with our tarnished. She tells us to tell Blaidd and Iji how much she loves them. She is detached because she knows she must be but she is terrible at hiding that she still has a heart. Rennala was consumed with grief and loss after the golden order presumably caused her and Marika (Radagon) to miscarry as well as forcing the love of her life away from her. She also loses all of her children to their own ambitions (they move out and do their own thing) Regardless, she is a husk because of love. Rellana abandoned her home to chase after love which was likely unrequited and still she forged swords of matrimony that she wields alone until her death, ever loyal to protecting the man she fell for. Rennala understood Relanna was chasing what her heart desired and sanctioned it. This is just a known fact about Carians. They get it. Their downfall is not knowledge but succumbing to love.

We know that prior to his involvement with finger sorceries Ymir was far more of a romantic than other sorcerers. Beloved Stardust's description is from a recitation he gave as a teacher to the Carians and it states that "One need only envision the romance of the stars above with adoration for stardust in one's heart to become a greater sorcerer. Do so, and you will know love."

He tells us it's only natural to want power and the truth but to no extent is this like Sellen's quest. He is not asking us to enable him like she is. Yes, he moved on from his studying of the moon, but it was not the same way she did. She wants to unravel it all and lay it bare, pick it apart. She is also driven to understand the elden ring which is very golden order centric. (want to be clear. I love Sellen)

She wants to dissect the life in the stars. Ymir wants to appreciate it's beauty. It is a clear clinical vs whimsical, both to negative extent. Sellian vs Carian.

We have no way of knowing his history in the lands between. He looks extremely similar to the figure on the Carian inverted statue and also has ties to Miriam, but that's all we can know for a fact. We also know for a fact that there are fingercreepers in both the gardens of Caria Manor and the flipped elevator of the Carian Study Hall.

I saw someone suggest recently that these were here as original assassins of the greater will to thwart Ranni back when the Greater Will still spoke to Metyr. I do like this. I believe the fingers were there for a very long time trying to accomplish something. Further I would suggest this is where Ymir first began to question them as he was no doubt in at least one of these Carian locations pre move to the Lands of Shadow.

We also don't know his early history in the lands of shadow aside from him teaching Rellana which he likely also did in the Lands Between. It seems clear Rellana brought a few Carians with her (the handful of white robed sorcerers, Moonthryll, and her teacher Ymir)

But we can come to two possible ideas from Manus Metyr and both give us a similar end point.

A. he had his own family and a child named Yuri who died very young and was buried in the graveyard, perhaps the only family he brought with him when he left everything and moved there.

B. Yuri was always just the fingercreeper and the fact that we can read the grave pre-quest is A an error. (odd but still completely possible) Or B this implies he has been continuously trying to birth the same fingercreeper over and over. The original fingercreeper child, Yuri, that he came to love dearly that never lived long being the main grave and the others all potentially being the additional failed attempts

Later on, during his research into the fingercreepers/two fingers he learns everything he knows in present day Elden Ring, becoming a high priest of Metyr and learning many of her spells. It is also during this time that he seems to beg Metyr/The Greater Will, to allow himself to birth fingers of his own.

This can be interpreted two ways as well. And we'll go in order from our last A and Bs.

A. He loses his only child in the land of shadow and is aware of Metyrs abilities. The GW (Or Metyr?) takes pity on him and shares power with him, allowing him to birth the fingercreeper Yuri. It is up for interpretation whether Yuri actually has the soul of his lost child in it or if Ymir is just so thankful for this new child that he projects his dead son onto him. I don't think there's any emotional distinction here.

B. He wishes to become the new envoy of the greater will from the start and is given one singular child, or just one child who lives, again, likely out of the desire for connection, pity, or perhaps pettiness of Metyr. (i'll come back to this in terms of Metyr giving him power). Through this he inevitably comes to love Yuri because obviously he is going to love his first child more than life itself.

As i said, the end point is the same. He is a Carian. He loves too fiercely. His original goals are pushed aside by the love he has for Yuri. In private he only talks about Yuri. He doesn't muse on and on about clinical knowledge or his desire to replace a god. He does not speak with any hint of madness, just utter devotion that I could see being seen as unhealthy. (i don't interpret it this way at this point but i get it. Just remember he is someone who is nearly completely alone in the land of shadow who has potentially experienced loss of severe magnitude before)

I also think that what we overhear at Yuri's grave sounds completely normal for grief. He wishes to be left alone and when he talks to Yuri he talks about only wanting to be his mother. He laments failing and promises to try again for him. This also lends to the idea that he believes there is a singular soul being moved around.

He only talks about Yuri. He isn't talking about replacing Metry and these are his most private thoughts.

I have seen theories that suggest he did not birth Yuri himself and perhaps stole him. His dialogue in private heavily implies he birthed him himself. As well as his unaltered robes which say they conceal an abundance of squirming beneath. So he had those fingers under there the whole time, definitely not as large and efficient as the ones during his boss fight, but they were there... and they were functioning.

I also don't think he ever comes off as this delusional? that might just be me but everything he says and everything Jolán says about him contradicts this. If there's any delusion it's the denial that comes with grief where he could believe his child's soul is in the baby fingercreeper.

But back to his quest- when we meet him he knows that the fingers that told Marika what to do were corrupt because Metyr is corrupt. He is exclusively blaming Metyr for this source of sickness. (this is an instance of him being a not fully educated narrator. He is slightly right, but needs to go further, a further we only learn from item descriptions where we learn the GW no longer wants a finger mother* i'll get back to this. But also THIS IS SO IMPORTANT WE LITERALLY LEARN THAT THE LANDS BETWEEN LOST THE PLOT AND THE FINGERS AND ANY ENDING THAT FOLLOWS THEM IS WRONG)

I believe at this point he thinks he birthed Yuri through the powers of the greater will and himself exclusively. I don't think he believes Metyr was involved because he knows Metyr is sick. He thinks the GW still wants a finger mother to send new messages.

We do his quest, we bind ourselves to our fate in the stars and of course that fate leads us to slay another remembrance boss. We need to clean up all the failed ideas of the GW so they aren't sticking around and causing trouble. Classic tarnished shit. iykyk.

EDIT: there is dialogue I missed and it seems dialogue a lot of people missed. If you talk to him after fighting Anna but before Metyr he asks you if you saw something down there, referring to Metyr. He tells you to remove it and any misconceptions from your mind lest it bring woe upon the both of you. (This is paraphrasing I don't completely remember the exact wording rn but it's essentially this). He doesn't want you to mess with Metyr. He has his own plans. He knows something bad will happen and he tells you to forget about her.

So why is Ymir hurt by you fighting Metyr even though the quest lead you hear? Irreparably hurt even? (1 and 2 can exist together still. they are not exclusively one or the other)

He had pushed aside this loftier goal and was still grieving for Yuri and only wanted to be his mother. The mother of one child. (To me that feels like it isn't taking it far enough. I do think he firmly believes he can do it better still. He hasn't realized the full truth. I just don't think this is at the forefront of his mind at this moment. He still wants to be The mother. His high opinion of himself makes it clear he believes he can do this)

He did not know that the GW had no need for Metyr any longer and that she had been broken and abandoned. He merely thought she was corrupted. So when he is possessed BY Metyr this is awful. He wanted to be a new mother. Not the same one.

GOES WITH MY PREVIOUS ADD ON: he may be aware he is using Metyr as a power source and believes killing her will affect him negatively. It is unclear if he knows the type or extent. Perhaps believing it will take away his power or perhaps aware it could be too much for him. He is also learning from her, so her untimely death would also be bad simply for this reason.

Okay now it's time for me to talk about Metyr in greater detail

The Staff of the Great Beyond says Metyr was broken and abandoned but still kept waiting for messages. This is also what the spell fleeting microcosm says which is likely referring to both Ymir and Metyr at this point since it is a spell that can be purchased from him as well as one Metyr uses, going on to say "The broken and discarded are fully willing to cling to fleeting simulacra, earning them some modicum of sympathy" He is a clearly broken person who thought he was grasping the GW's truth but wasn't and Metyr was clinging to her old life hoping for it to come back and for her to have purpose again despite being abandoned by her own mother. Metyr is unique and incredibly complicated which is interesting because her closest equivalent is the Elden Beast and other falling stars. Her items make it clear she had complex feelings- anger, grief, loneliness, resentment, loyalty. She WAS the magnificent gleaming daughter of the Greater Will. She was once loved and she knows that. Her other remembrance weapon is called Gazing Finger, but it's the name of its move that tells us the most about her. Kowtower's Resentment. She showed unwavering respect to the GW but she grew to resent it. We learn so much about her that only further ties into the overall themes of motherhood in Elden Ring. Imagine how Metyr must feel. Aside from the brewing hate inside her caused by the GW directly TOO her she is also forced to watch her children either grow increasingly more and more corrupt over time or slain. She knows her children aren't going into the world to be loved any longer. She knows she's sending them off to a terrible fate and still she must do it. Her children are purposeless. When we tie our fate to the stars- the great cosmic will- the new plan, it brings us there and it prompts us to kill Metyr and clean up its loose ends. But instead of letting herself be killed outright or leaving the lands between/shadow, she goes somewhere else because she is angry. She wants to be loved and needed. She is desperate to receive messages again. She wants to prove herself. We can say for certain that it is Metyr that possess Ymir in our fight because the GW has no desire to make a new mother of fingers and Metyr had already been lending him her power. There is only one and we clearly don't kill all of her at first. Is this her last effort to best the GW or merely her defiance to continue on living? Waiting to be of use again? Alas, we kill Ymir as well. ALSO- just mentioned Metyr to my wife and she said "Yeah Metyr is so similar to Messmer" and I literally said OH FUCK. YEAH! So let's touch on that: Both of them are abandoned by their mother, trapped somewhere, enacting her original design, spreading her original message all while never hearing from her ever again and still remaining fiercely loyal to the end.

Now back to Ymir and Metyr

Was Metyr sharing her powers with him out of loneliness or spite or simply curiosity?

It's definitely something that's up for personal interpretation because I don't believe these are spells just anyone can use or learn. The simple glintstone nail spells even say Ymir thinks they are "child's play" but fleeting microcosm and Cherishiny fingers are very different. The nail spells are ones others may be able to learn but the other two are unique to finger mothers. Also the act of birthing fingers is not a spell. It's Metyrs own unique ability and purpose- so clearly Metyrs power directly from her.

Did she long to be understood? To share what she was going through with someone else? Was she trying to show him that it wasn't her that was broken?

Did she resent him for blaming her and studying her? Or did she herself think she was to blame? Did she share her grief with him out of spite? Making him too experience loss via Yuri?

Or did she also have a bit of hope that maybe through a new vessel she would be seen again by the GW? Maybe her children wouldn't be cursed.

She certainly shared quite a lot with Ymir for it to be out of spite and their items and spells mimicking each other in descriptions really makes it feel like she wanted him to understand her. Both of their staffs show a microcosm but receive no answer. She lets him birth her children.

And Yuri is clearly aware of this. He's likely never seen Metyr but still has nightmares about her. Ymir telling him to "put that tangled mess out of his mind" He's torn quite literally about his origins. Ymir is his mother but Metyr is a presence he is aware of and in unfamiliar with to the point of fear. Perhaps this is what brings about his early death- that incomplete or splintered origin.

On to Ymir boss fight speculation/ theory

We have our ideas on why Ymir was hurt and upset by us fighting Metyr. Him taking on her corruption and learning GW truths as well as his own grief already being too forefront. But I wonder if when Metyr possessed Ymir he took on her grief and loneliness as well. Would he be able to cope with her literal cosmic scale of loss and heartache? Being misunderstood? Being abandoned by her own mother? I think it's a really interesting foil to have Sellen and co. destroyed and driven to insanity by knowledge and Ymir driven to insanity by grief and love. It makes the tear streaked makeup on his boss model hit a lot harder that way and feel far more intentional as tears which is what the dripping black really evokes (despite is being part of the tattoo category of character creation which is definitely just character creator limitation)

When we fight Ymir he also has a really effective voice inflection change as well. Props to his voice actor for almost making him sound completely different and just gone.

But yeah it feels clear that his fight is the built up madness of both him and Metyr's greatest desires manifested. They're consumed by loss and anger and a desire to be wanted and seen in the eyes of the greater will. They both want to receive messages and be The Mother.

Then we get his normal voice when we kill him where all he can think of is Yuri again and wanting to be his mother. He isn't thinking about being THE mother. Literally just Yuri. What is most important to him. The true Ymir. And of course, it's similar to Rennala's true voice coming through when we beat her, speaking about her beloved daughter, just HER daughter, not the sweetings.

I truly don't think he was as insane or gone as people think he was in nearly the entirety of his quest. and I honestly just think people default to saying "oh he's insane and delusional and freaky" because he is a "man" who is a mother.

okay thank god i can finally get into the gender of all this.

What do we know about Ymir in regards to gender?

Names are intentionally chosen in fromsoft games. Ymir was a norse giant who, though using masculine pronouns, was considered neither male nor female because he could birth children of his own.

He is named after an agender mythological figure who also has a moon named after him.

So we can read into Ymir being agender. He uses masculine pronouns, wears headwear that is strictly feminine, very neutral royal attire (we don't know enough about Carian clothing to have an opinion on the robe, gloves, or pants), a little makeup, and has no hang ups on being able to be a mother.

I, as someone who is nonbinary, have my own unique connection to him as a character that makes me really like this about him. In my brain gender means nothing which separates me from my trans wife where gender and expression mean everything. I have never had a mental connection to gender. I have presented many ways in my life since coming out. My outward appearance does not dictate my relationship to gender nor what I can do. In fact I think about gender very little.

Motherhood not being synonymous with female pronouns here is cool to me as well. it is nice gender non-essentialism.

But if we get into Elden Ring as being about women and the feminine divine as a whole, we can also read into him differently.

I've seen many people tag him as being trans to them! And I like that just as much.

He studies the fingers which are exclusively ruled by women. Metyr is their mother, finger readers are all women, then of course finger maidens. Even further, Metyr is a daughter of the GW. He says we ALL are her children. The GW is the original mother of all things. The creator of all life because she created stardust and to study the stars is to study the life in all things. Nearly all societies in ER are led by women. There is an innate power in womanhood in ER.

He gazed into the stars with adoration in his heart and knew true love. He felt loved amidst that divinity and sought to follow that path for himself. He embraced something that meant everything to him body and soul. He underwent true physical change for it. And with Yuri he was happy.

And of course, as all soulsborne games, it has to be tragic for us to see beauty in it, so he, just like nearly everyone else we know, faces a terrible end because of the fate of our tarnished and the GW's goal. He isn't a villain because he has a unique relationship with gender and it is kinda wild i've seen someone say that.

My additional thought on this is that it feels unnecessarily detailed for his robe description to talk about the ruff that "sparkles like a flower wet with dew" We really only get two other characters specifically connected to flowers and that's Malenia and St.Trina. Both are related to feminine identity, divinity, and true self. Malenia becoming the Scarlet Aeonia, her true form as a goddess, and St. Trina literally being the woman Miquella was meant to become. A literal transition could have saved her narrative.

So yes, I can absolutely see people interpreting Ymir through a trans woman lens as well. I love that different people can identify with this character differently and see parts of themself here and if other people have different takes on this character's gender identity and it making them feel represented, that's great! I just can only talk on my personal take and the discussion i had about him with my wife.

Can I see why people wouldn't like him? Yeah, so long as it isn't based on a lack of knowledge of the plot, items, and dialogue, or based on extreme pre-existing biases. Because I have seen a bad take or two that boil down to this kind of misinformation which is really frustrating.

There is no evidence in the text that he is a bad person. Jolán respects and cares for him immensely. She doesn't reveal to us any actual feelings about Anna and this is all very vague. Yes Anna is a puppet but Nox are the only people we know of that did willingly become puppets. She is also a recusant which is interesting as well. Most invaders are just invaders. Recusants specifically are invaders with a job (recusant fingers only come from Rykard but are snake scaled so potentially also Eiglay? Base Serpent? She may have just served another master). There may also be a reason for this due to game function alone or there may be the narrative reason. We really can't know much about them as they are side, side characters. But them being Nox i think is telling. He was also clearly a very respected Carian sorcerer and was a teacher to Rellana. Textually, he is never portrayed negatively by others nor in his items.

Here are some final add-ons

that i don't want to complicate my earlier jumble with that whether important or not, are worth seeing. I just didn't know where to add them. Also I do not have a final interpretation of these things in the greater context:

An item I would like to touch on as well as an item that goes hand in hand with it (pun intended) is the spell Cherishing Fingers as well as Fingercreeper Ashes. Cherishing Fingers says "The dear fingers look after their mother, or perhaps that is merely what the mother wishes to believe." but Fingercreeper ashes says " They are ever so fond of their mothers at this tender age"

These two items kind of contradict each other, implying the fingers DO care about their mother. But the intentional doubt is interesting. Fingercreeper ashes, as well as Yuri being in his arms really makes it feel like they do care, but perhaps as they grow older they don't? Or this can help drive a "delusional" narrative. But fingercreeper ashes really make it seem like it goes both ways.

Also, Why are the ruins (Miyr) beneath Manus Metyr just an anagram for Ymir? Did he name them that? Did he name himself Ymir? Is it a cool coincidence that he pogged at when he found out? Is it just a random world building choice? This I literally cannot interpret.

I thought of the name change thing and that lead me to investigate every single rise on both maps to see if one could have been his but nothing seems likely. but on to Rabbath's rise

Anna's puppet body is there. Rabbath is a known sorcerer who was a spellmachinist. Being a machinist is very anti everything Ymir does and is into. Is Rabbath the person who designed the marionettes? That is a loose end we don't know the answer to and being a machinist is telling but this is extreme speculation. I saw someone suggest he and Ymir may have been either friends or rivals- both could give potential case for Ymir's puppet being there. Again. JUST speculative interpretations of this because we also do not know enough about Anna either. Rabbath also, like many other Rise owners, doesn't appear to be dead. Some Rises have a gravenmass in them which feels clear was the original owner. But Rabbaths is empty and something different about Rabbath's rise in comparison to most others is that all the candles in his rise are out. I don't know what this means. Why is Anna in a part of his rise that is nearly inaccessible? To me this makes it seem like she’s exclusively there to be kept safe as this place can only be accessed by us on torrent… literally no one else.

I'd like to add some additional, after the fact, thoughts and observations I have no place for as well

In terms of Jolán I’m confident her loyalty to Ymir stems from the Nox’s belief that one day their lord of night will come to them, bringing with them the age of stars and the fate that the Nox had been stripped of after their banishment. She refers to Ymir as her shining star and after he is gone she only sees darkness. I could very well see her believing Ymir is the promised lord of night as he so heavily believes in the fate of the stars and brings stars to her life personally.

But by all accounts the Nox hate the GW and were the ones who created a blade to slay its vassals, which Metyr is one of. Perhaps this is where Jolan and Anna disagreed. Perhaps this is why she is a puppet now. Anna may have stayed true to their beliefs where Jolan instead saw the promised liege and pledged her service to him. Again, anything with Anna is still speculation but it would make sense if she and Anna and the other swordhands of night were initially there for a reason as they are the only Nox in the lands of Shadow and wear fingerprint armor independent of their connection to Ymir. Perhaps the fingerslayer blade was made for Metyr, the source of the GWs words. Perhaps this is the cause of the injury on Metyrs chest. This is something I could get far too into speculation on though. But it is interesting to speculate on as the location of her injury is not somewhere she would have fingers, so likely not Ymir’s doing, and is also a real “going for the kill” location. Again, chew on this one as you will.

Cherishing Fingers: I thought about this A LOT and I wish it was easy for me to fit it into the upper main post. Cherishing Fingers is "one of Ymir's spells" so why isn't it in his bell bearing? We get it not when he dies but after. It isn't dropped with his death loot and it only shows up after we rest and it doesn't show up on his body it shows up at Yuri's grave. And I know you could say "Well characters like Rogiers items are gotten from where we last saw him sitting even though he's gone) but we already got all of Ymir's things. Literally 6 items worth of loot. This is intentionally somewhere else. So two theories. This is not Ymir's final item given to us but Yuris. The fingers no longer have to protect their mother and are no longer trapped in rebirth so they leave behind a spell after they too finally pass on. Theory 2, Ymir, after our fight, chooses to die by Yuri's side, at his child's grave, leaving behind a final spell to remember him by. Regardless there is a reason this spell is separate and special. It's description that can sew doubt, to me, is negated by the positive description on the fingercreeper ashes that confirm they do love their mother. This also being found at a fingercreepers grave is also very telling.

The caged fingercreepers: if you look close and really work your camera, there are a handful of cages only near Ymir's throne that have fingercreepers in them. Are they still alive? Are they in there for their safety or because Ymir thinks differently of them/they aren't as important to him as Yuri? I do not have a final interpretation of this but it's important to note here. I have my wide reaching headcanon about this of course but it isn't something I'm confident presenting the way I present these interpretations.

Ymir’s neck ruff: this is only coming up because I’m writing a full over the top clothing analysis for him, but this one is connected to the lore, not the independent character design choices and it’s actually quite interesting. Aside from its description as a flower, which I mentioned in my gender portion, it also uses the word dew, something that has a specific and loaded meaning in ER and there are a lot of important Dew items. The new item dewgem, being connected to sprites, the dewkissed herba and Celestial Dew from the eternal cities, and Blessed Dew and the icon shield depicting erdtree boons and a divine age. Because dewgem is very hornsent adjacent I'm more inclined to connect it to the latter two types and I think I'd like to connect it to them both at once instead of picking but feel free to side with either. I'm just telling you how I feel. The allusion to celestial dew and glowing like a star, mentioning fate in the night sky, and being the dew of absolution is all interesting and this would be one additional connection to Joláns adoration to him, seeing the resemblance and iconography of her stars on his person. Creating familiarity. His mentioning of redemption and desire to break the cycle of corrupt messages also ties well into the idea of absolution and new beginnings. He is obviously tied to the stars, but the ruff is gold much like the blessed dew items which are described as divine, depicting ideas of eternal prosperity and blessings which paint dew as a concept as something extremely symbolic and sacred. Dew in both forms represent a new age and gifts of that age- one being absolution and fate, the other prosperity and divinity. Ymir believes in all of these things. Unlike the Nox he values the Greater Wills goals and words. He wishes to help bring about a new age, guided by the stars, via the Greater Wills untainted words. So the connection to blessed dew wouldn't be "erdtree good" but moreso how dew was viewed during that time and to those who believed in it. It seems more like a nod to the prosperity possible in a new age with roots that are not tainted and mad. A motif intentionally conveying similar ideas that others already have positive connection to. (You thought that erdtree was good? Imagine a tree that isn't corrupt)

OKAY ANYWAYS THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK!! If anyone stuck around for the whole thing I will be truly baffled but thank you if you did! Love Ymir with all my heart! if there are any typos or repetition please understand i really just kept going train of thought style here and its a lot to reread 4 times over to keep double checking as every time i got sidetracked.

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vraska-theunseen · 2 months ago

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😶h

aughhhh. aughhhhhjhhhh

#i just can't stop thinking about how she mentioned my headphones when many other people were less visibly listening to music and my food #containers in thd classroom and yesterday when i forgot my shoes and i guess also was wearing the wrong pants i felt the stupidest i've ever #felt in my life i wanted to die i woke up at 11:20 because i was so tired and i went through the motions and it was like suddenly sitting in #the classroom i was shunted back into my body and i could feel the slides on my feet and i wanted to die and as i left she said you should #know better! like i didn't already know that like i didn't already feel stupid i had to walk back to main and put my shoes on and walk back #to the other campus it took 45 minutes most stupid and worthless i've ever felt in my whole stupid fucking life and she mentioned all of #that and said 'if you wonder why you're falling behind that's why...' i can't stop thinking about it im not doing bad at my t joint and my #lap joint because i wore the wrong shoes and pants once and i listened to music once while drafting and i bring my lunch in the classroom #it's because i am just slow i always try to pay attention and i take detailed notes and i do the best i can but the best is really really #bad and i knkw what is wrong but i can't fix it right i keep doing it the same bad way i don't know why i am so stupid and bad at learning #and this is training wheels this is easy this is 4 hours a day and i spend some of that sitting around watching lectures or watching other #people weld because there aren't enough booths if i ever want to get a job in this trade or any job it will be at least 8 hours 5 days a #week and i spend most of my time now on hobbies or doing easy but time consuming homework or rotting in bed i don't want to live in the #world man i have so many friends things to look forward to but i always have to live in the world and every day i live is easy compared to #everyone else i know what the hell am i supposed to do #Theres so many bugs in my room can you kill yourselves im trying to work myself into anxiety spiral right now do you fucking mind. i hope th #e wasp comes back and stings me and im allergic to wasps and i die and in my last dying moments i somehow with unprecedented luck and #dexterity pluck the wasp out of the air and crush it and it lays dying as i lay dying hand in unlovable hand kind of like a reverse bee #movie im kind of like the anti jerry seinfeld wait he was the bee fuckkk. ok that snapped me out of it a little im still anxious about all #that stuff and the stuff from the last post but i don't feel like a vise is gripping my mind and my chest anymore

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stu-dyingstudent · 3 months ago

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Sakura Haruno fic recs: romance-centric

I, like many others, definitely enjoy a a good romance every so often. All of these recs are going to have the romantic development of the characters as the forefront of the story, so just because the fic includes a ship doesn't mean it will go on the list. That means, many of them might feel more on the slice of life side of the spectrum, but that's not the case for all!!

There is going to be a mix of ships here so if you're interested in one in specific then use the search feature!

Started: 2024.08.28

Last Updated: 2024.09.28

note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!

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To Build a Home - RedPowder || ao3 || E || kakasaku || canon divergence || ongoing

Sakura and Kakashi are assigned a mission that will change the path of their lives forever.

Kakashi and Sakura are forced to marry on orders from the village and I know that description sounds dumb, but trust me when I say this fic is gold. I've always had a hard time with kakasaku fics because I feel the whole teacher/student thing gets swept under the rug too easily, but that's not the case here. Their past relationship from team 7 is a glaring shadow over their marriage and the guilt over the whole situation weighs heavy on Kakashi. This mission isn't easy for either of them and it takes a lot of pull and tug to ensure things don't completely blow up. To Build a Home is probably one of my favorite takes on this ship as the portrayal feels realistic and the character feel accurate to themselves. Just give it a go!

Approaching Sun - ANerdInAllHerGlory || ffn || T || sasusaku || blank period || ongoing

After 2 years, Sasuke returns to the village where friends anxiously await him. Still troubled by the mysteries of Kaguya and his personal guilt, Sasuke is split between friends and his journey. Troubled by rising casualties and international dependence on her abilities, Sakura is torn between her love for Sasuke and her duty to her village.

Approaching Sun is probably one of the most realistic depictions of Sasuke and Sakura's relationship that I have read. This takes place during the blank period and references the novels, so it feels like an actual possibility of what went down. As much as I love them, I have a hard time believing that their relationship was smooth sailing and so I think this is an interesting take.

The Fool - thekatthatbarks || ao3 || T || shikasaku || blank period || complete

Ino kicked at a pebble on the ground, her arms folded across her chest. “How long?” Shikamaru sighed and pulled the cigarette away from his lips. “The war." It was a lie somewhat. He’d liked her since they were kids but had simply ignored the budding crush expecting it to fade over time. It hadn’t and by the time the war came around, he accepted he would always carry it despite his increasing efforts to drop it. He’d tried drowning it in the river, burning it in a fire, covering it up with something else. But it was all to no avail. It stuck with him, always apart of him. “Have you ever told anyone? Chouji? Her?” "No."

I actually really like Shikamaru and Sakura as a pairing (or just working together in general); however, I haven't read much of them. The Fool was a great post-war read where with some meddling (curtesy of Ino) we get to watch the progression of their relationship into something more than friends.

Nightmare in Red - Sariasprincy || ao3 || M || itasaku || non-massacre AU || complete

Haruno Sakura used to think the eyes were the windows to the soul, but after witnessing the horrors of the Sharingan firsthand, she's convinced they are the doors. It was pure chance that led Sakura to the discovery of the disease eating through Uchiha Itachi's lungs and now that she's aware, she knows she cannot just turn a blind eye. But how is she to treat the very man who tortured her while at the same time keep her nightmares from consuming her? That she doesn't know, but she knows she has to try, even if it nearly kills her in the end.

Itachi unintentionally captures Sakura in his mangekyou after being rolled into the hospital for her to heal. While Sakura tries to work through the impacts of the genjutsu she continues to work with him in an effort to cure him of the disease infecting his body. I actually really liked how the whole thing played out. Itachi's sickness was sort of a mystery in the original series and so I found it rather interesting to see what was done in regards to it. Anyway, I love their interactions and Shisui is (like always) a great character as well.

Blind - ObsidianSickle || ffn || sasusaku || T || canon divergent || complete

It was almost time, Orochimaru was going to take his body as a vessel. He hated being used...he refused to be used. With that thought, he took the kunai in his hand and slashed across his eyes.

I won't lie, Sakura is pretty weak in Blind and the whole thing is super cheesy, but it's still an enjoyable read.

Ghosts - ElegiesforShiva || ffn || sausaku || M || blank period || incomplete

In love and loss, it often comes back to family, and Team 7 had always been fated, hadn't they? Deny it as she may, Sakura finds her heart strung to them with an uncanny reverence and the weight of their ghosts. Sakura-centric. Heavy, heavy angst. Slow burn Sasusaku. Canon pairings. Lots of friendship feels. Eventual (consensual) lemon.

Ghosts is a pretty dark read where basically everyone is suffering. Sasuke and Sakura in specific have an especially hard time coping with their individual struggles yet they find comfort in each other. Check TWs before going in

Home is Where the Heart is - DeepPoeticGirl || ffn || sasusaku || T || blank period || complete

And with every moment together, they get just a little closer, a little more comfortable with each other. Fall a little more in love. Post-war. Pre-epilogue.

This fic is actually adorable! Taking place during the black period we get to see how Sasuke and Sakura's relationship slowly progresses. If you've always wondered what their travels were like then definitely check this one out.

In Times of Peace - SouthSideStory || ffn || sasusaku || M || blank period || canon divergent || complete

The war is over, and like Konoha, Team 7 has rebuilt itself from the ground up. Everything has changed, but Sasuke and Sakura remain much the same. Eleven years, she thinks, is a long time to be in love.

Sakura and Sasuke have like a secret relationship going on. Also, Sakura as a jonin sensei is so good!! I really wish that someone from the original cast actually went down that route, but whatever.

Labyrinthine - FM_White || ao3 || itasaku || M || canon divergence || complete

ItaSaku (Post Uchiha Massacre) AU: Some things are destined to be. It just takes a couple of tries to get there.ItaSaku. Light KakaSaku.

I actually really liked how this was done as team 7 is still a family, Sasuke didn't lose his mind, Itachi picked a much more respectable path imo, and the characters are all adults.

Only a Crush by Gingersoup || ao3 || kakasaku || M || canon divergent || complete

It was supposed to be an easy, fun night out. She never intended to wake up in her sensei's bed, half-naked and with no memory of what happened the night before! As she tries to unravel the mystery of that night, something sinister is growing beyond the walls of the Leaf Village... and what was only a crush spirals wildly out of control.

Sakura is unwillingly thrust into the world of illegal drugs, trafficking, and sex all while coming to terms with her new feelings regarding her former sensei. I typically don't like kakasaku, but I think this work is done tastefully well. The characters are both adults and the immorality of the relationship is not ignored, so be prepared for a lot of "we can't," "this is wrong," etc.. Anyway, Sakura is an absolute powerhouse and I thoroughly enjoyed the relationship between all of the different characters and villages!

Dreaming's End - thepiedsniper || ao3 || T || kakasaku || canon divergence || complete

Sakura didn't avoid the Infinite Tsukuyomi with the others, and all the events that happened afterward were simply the product of her dream-state. When Sakura finally wakes up from years spent in her personal "paradise," she must to learn how to start again. Kakashi is there to help her. ~*~ (TWs for genjutsu-related unreality)

Basically, imagine the entirety of Boruto was Sakura's dream in Infinite Tsukuyomi. When Sakura manages to breakout during the war she's left to deal with serious ramifications of the life she just lived. She finds herself constantly questioning what's real and Kakashi tries to help her through it.

Mamihlapinatapai - FM_White || ao3 || E || itasaku || canon divergence || ongoing

Mamihlapinatapai・Yagan. (n.) a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something they both desire, but which neither wants to begin In which Sakura tries her hardest to raise one hell of a rambunctious baby by herself, Sasuke is searching for something unknown, and Itachi is the uncle.

In another life where Itachi doesn't end up dying and instead tries his best to help Sakura raise his niece in Sasuke's absence. It's my head canon that everyone came together to help with Sarada just like they did for Kuranai, and so Mamihlapinatapi satisfies that thought for me. I like how Sasuke was criticized in this since as much as I understand the necessity of what he's doing, I also find it completely unfair to his wife and daughter. Itachi and Sakura form a great bond and it's all very domestic and just super fluffy all around, which I love.

Louder than Words - SouthSideStory || ao3 || T || sasusaku || non-massacre AU || complete

Sakura hasn’t uttered a single word since the day her family died, but Sasuke is determined to hear her, one way or another. (No Uchiha massacre AU.)

Sakura gets taken in by the Uchiha family after Fugaku finds her on a mission. She's been mute ever since, but that doesn't stop her and Sasuke from forming a close bond.

Snake Bound - shefalls || ao3 || E || sasusaku || canon divergence || complete

"You... took me with you." "That's what I said." "To Orochimaru. You took me with you, to Orochimaru." Sasuke nodded curtly and shoved the medical kit a little more insistently into her hands. Sakura accepted, and prayed to every known god that Orochimaru would ignore her existence. She should've known the gods don't listen. Now only on AO3. Sequel up.

What if Sasuke took Sakura with him like she asked? Snake Bound explores that idea and it's honestly a very uncomfortable read. Their relationship is based off of the isolation and dependency their new situation puts them in. All they really have is each other and the new bond that brings is not a healthy one.

Armour-Sleeved Single Hit - thatdamnuchiha || ao3 || T || madasaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete

Sasuke always told Sakura she was weak. Even after she trained with Tsunade for years he only had eyes for Naruto whom he considered strong. She would forever be invisible to him no matter how many mountains she toppled.Being a member of Team Seven despite Sasuke’s refusal to acknowledge her meant she got herself into her fair share of sticky situations. Getting stuck a hundred odd years in the past had to take the cake though.But she was just a weak little girl and compared to the shinobi of old she’d be ridiculously pathetic. Sasuke had said she was weak to him – a modern day shinobi who hadn’t been forced into battle after battle like they did in the Warring Clans Era. Obviously she’d be nothing more than a spec of dirt in the eyes of the Founders.

Sakura manages to find herself in founding-era Konoha! While trying to prove that medical ninja are capable fighters she unknowingly gains the affection of Madara Uchiha. After all, the Uchiha find beauty in strength. Super cute read!

Always You - alex-halcyon || ffn || T || kakasaku || age swap AU || complete

[AU. Age-swap] Kakashi x Sakura. From academy days to the third shinobi war and beyond, Kakashi and Sakura grow up and fall in love.

Basically, Sakura takes Rin's place on the old team 7. The progression between the character is quite interesting as it definitely isn't smooth sailing for Kakashi and Sakura. However, even through everything they find themselves drifting towards each other. Pretty cute imo.

interim - stannide || ao3 || T || sasusaku || blank period || one-shot complete

Sasuke lives with Sakura in the weeks after the war.

Interim is such a wholesome read where Sasuke and Sakura rekindle their former relationship. Super fluffy

Hit Me With Your Best Shot - Tozette || ao3 || T || sasusaku || blank period || one-shot complete

Sasuke is actually eighteen the first time he looks at Sakura and realises abruptly that he wants her.

I think we all know by now that Sasuke has always been attracted to strength, power, so why not when it comes to romance? Essentially, one day on a mission, Sasuke discovers he has a strength kink. Watching him continuously get flustered throughout the fic because of his admiration towards Sakura's strength is so entertaining. Really fun read

the problem with how time works - MurderMittens || ao3 || E || kakasaku || generation swap AU || complete

"I don't remember you being this uncomfortable when Kakashi was nine and had a crush on you," Ino pointed out neutrally. "You thought it was flattering before." She moved to pour more wine into their glasses as Sakura exhaled sharply out of her nostrils. "Obviously! It was fucking cute when he was a kid! But now he's..." she trailed off, gesticulating feebly. Ino, taking pity on her, finished the sentence: "Now he's a stone cold hottie who looks and sounds like he'd murder the ever-loving shit out of your vagina."

Sakura and Kakashi's generations swap place and boy is it entertaining. With Naruto as his sensei, of course Kakashi has met Sakura. Now that she's back in the village after years, Kakashi decides to try his best to win her over.

on still water - summersirius || ao3 || T || shisaku || canon divergence || complete

and sometimes, there are days without rain. —shisui/sakura

I'm actually devastated that the author decided to not pursue the plot line after about chapter 15 (it was so good too), but On Still Water is great nonetheless. Some really cute Shisui x Sakura moments

never let 'em know your next move - MirrorImage003 || ao3 || T || itasaku || non-massacre AU || one-shot complete

six times itachi is surprised by sakura, and the one time he's surprised by his mother.

Sort of drabble style moments between Itachi and Sakura and it's honestly adorable.

Hatsukoi - sparklyfaerie || ao3 || sasusaku || gen || non-massacre AU || complete

Sasuke leans away as the girl turns to him, and his mother doesn't need to be any closer to guess as to the expression on his face. The girl's body language changes in an instant, and Mikoto recognizes the posture of a little girl in love. It's kind of adorable.

Probably one of the cutest sasusaku fics I have read as Hatsukoi follows them from genin to marriage! It's told in multiple perspectives and it's full of tooth rotting fluff. You get to watch the slow progression of their relationship over time and how they grow even closer in Naruto's absence. Definitely read is you want something light!

(oh, you'll probably go to heaven) please don't hang your head & cry - SafelyCapricious || ao3 || T || itasaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete

There’s no such thing as a good death. But Sakura faces her death without any regrets. Her dying is keeping her precious people safe — and that’s all she can ask for. So she dies with a smile, taking thousands of enemies with her. She wakes up and falls off the branch she’s laying on.

More of a pre-ship than anything actually romantic, so maybe this isn't the best for this list lmao.

----

Send me some recs if you have any to share! I'm generally fine with any ship as long as the story is good :)

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aethon-recs · 1 year ago

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Tomarrymort Starter Pack: 10 Recs for Getting Started in Tomarrymort

I've compiled a list of 10 medium to longfic recs that I think represent a great on-ramp to the Tomarrymort ship, as inspired by @sitp-recs’ Drarry for Beginners rec list. These are the fics that I would use to on-board people to the ship — gorgeous writing, superb characterization, and just as enjoyable on the first read as the 20th reread.

As always, I am stunned by the talent in this ship! I tried to pick a good mix of different themes/tropes/settings, with a focus on elements that make for a good introductory work: the characters are recognizable; the setting skews more recognizable; both characters in the ship are a meaningful part of the story; the ship is central to the story; and the fics are for the most part complete (or updated within the last year).

(Standard rec list disclaimers apply: please mind all tags and warnings on AO3 before reading; this blog abides by the age-old fandom axiom of don’t like; don’t read; recs are in alphabetical order by title.)

This is Part 1 of a 3-part series — I also have an Intermediate reading list and Advanced reading list coming up for readers who have been with the ship for a longer time.

For now, please enjoy these 1.3 million words of absolutely brilliant Tomarrymort reads that I hope will keep you hooked until the very last word:

Tomarrymort Starter Pack Recs

A Dangerous Game by @cybrid (E, 284k, WIP)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 5 Premise: If Tom’s diary horcrux gains a body at the end of Harry’s 5th year (instead of his 2nd), and then promptly kidnaps Harry and holds him captive over the summer. Lots of smut ensues. Why I rec it: The characterization is truly stunning — Tom Riddle is undoubtedly a psychopath — manipulative, thrill-seeking, kind of an irredeemable shithead — but he’s also dazzlingly charming when he chooses to be, someone whose presence Harry quickly grows addicted to. Their relationship can get incredibly toxic and fucked-up at times, but Harry has top-notch instincts and can hold his own against Tom. The plot is absolutely gripping, with the threat of (the main) Voldemort, who has set his sights on reclaiming his wayward horcrux, looming in the background.

A Future Without a Face by @dividawrites (E, 115k, complete)

Setting: Time-Travel (1940s) Premise: If Harry travels back in time to Tom’s 5th year at Hogwarts, and Tom becomes obsessed with the new transfer student and wants nothing more than to possess him every way. Why I rec it: A 1940s time travel fic told entirely from Tom Riddle POV! Divida absolutely nails psychopath Tom — how he quickly gets singlemindedly focused on Harry, how the idea of possessing Harry consumes him, how he has no compunctions about doing completely fucked-up and destructive things to achieve his goals. There is so much tension between them from the start, so there’s not much of a wait to see some hot Harry & Tom action — and the conflict and tension only continues to build and build in dramatic fashion throughout the rest of the fic.

Either must die at the hand of the other by @metalomagnetic (E, 260k, complete)

Setting: Post-Canon Premise: If Voldemort survives the Battle of Hogwarts and is initially kept prisoner in Azkaban, until Harry takes him into Grimmauld Place under house arrest. Why I rec it: This fic is an incredible exploration of Voldemort at his most terrifying. Even if he starts off the fic with his magic temporarily blocked, he is no less powerful without his magic. The force of his personality is powerful enough for him to chip away at Harry’s initial resistance — @metalomagnetic manages to write one of the most charismatic, brilliantly manipulative, and psychologically devastating versions of Voldemort I’ve ever read. Harry ends up in a good place by the end of the fic, but the journey to get there is a roller-coaster of emotions that have permanently imprinted onto my soul.

In Somno Veritas by ladyoflilacs and @lordansketil (M, 158k, complete)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 6 Premise: If Harry starts appearing in Voldemort’s nightly dreams during Book 6, and Voldemort becomes obsessed with Harry after realizing he’s his horcrux. Why I rec it: This is one of the most unique fics I’ve ever read in this ship! Every scene is told in alternating POV between Harry’s POV and Voldemort’s POV, so you get to see how every scene unfolds from both of their perspectives. Voldemort is so intense and just as terrible as he is in canon, so his character is not at all sugarcoated, and Harry has so much compassion and heart and manages to fall in love with Voldemort anyway. The writing style is gorgeous, with richly detailed and emotionally-laden prose. Also, one thing that pleasantly surprised me is how funny their banter is! There were definitely a number of times where I laughed out loud in the middle of an otherwise really intense scene. Bonus content: also comes with a lovely sequel that made me melt.

Inevitabilities by @shadow-of-the-eclipse (T, 103k, complete)

Setting: Same-Age AU Premise: If Harry and Tom attend Hogwarts together and go traveling around the world after they graduate. A betrayal leads to their break-up, but after many years, Harry returns to find Tom in Britain, and the two of them are drawn back together again. Why I rec it: An excellent same-age AU with unhinged dark Harry and just-as-unhinged Tom. Their relationship starts out quite dark and twisted and unhealthy — and only devolves from there. The fic ends with the two of them as equals — utterly devoted to each other — but in an incredibly fucked-up way: “He loves Tom like a forest fire; wild and all-consuming, he wants to devour Tom, to claim him, to mark him, break him.” Isn’t that absolutely breathtaking?

love is touching souls (surely you touched mine) by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (M, 34k, complete)

Setting: Time-Travel (1940s) Premise: If Harry gets thrown back into the mid-1940s and meets Tom Riddle as a young man just graduated from Hogwarts working at Borgin and Burkes. Why I rec it: When Harry accidentally travels back in time and chances upon Tom Riddle as a fresh graduate, he realizes this is his chance to make a difference. While Harry is only in the past for a brief interlude, he leaves enough of an impression to change the trajectory of Tom’s life. The dynamic between Harry and Tom is rife with tension and witty dialogue, and the story is set during Christmastime, which lends a very festive and heartwarming atmosphere for falling in love with each other.

No Glory by @obsidianpen (E, 254k, WIP)

Setting: Voldemort Wins AU Premise: If Voldemort figures out Harry is his horcrux when Harry surrenders in the Forbidden Forest, and decides to keep Harry instead of killing him. Why I rec it: This fic showcases the absolute, terrifying genius side of Voldemort, in a universe where he wins the war and captures Harry at the end of book 7. I am stunned at how skillfully @obsidianpen portrays Voldemort as a brilliant political strategist — the courtroom scene where he manipulates the story and the audience so well stands out as a top 10 fanfic moment in my mind. Harry and Voldemort’s relationship is chilling from the very start, and grows even more unhealthy as Voldemort gets addicted to Harry’s touch due to the presence of the horcrux, but Harry later learns to turn that to his advantage.

The Fire, Burning by @parsimmony (E, 35k, complete)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 6 Premise: If Voldemort discovers Harry is his horcrux after Book 6, and kidnaps him to keep him captive by his side in his bed, inside of a lovely greenhouse setting full of friendly snakes on the grounds of Malfoy Manor. Why I rec it: The prose!! I am swooning over the prose! Harry is Voldemort’s captive in this fic, but he is so much more than that — and the emotions that gradually blossom between them have so much richness and depth and are utterly moving that I’m still drowning in the depths of intimacy that were portrayed. Their relationship unfolds in such a gorgeous and unrushed way, and the setting is so unique too — a lush and overgrown greenhouse that’s exploding with exotic plants and friendly snakes around every corner that imbues the fic with a very romantic, dreamy quality.

the pleasure, the privilege by @being-luminous (M, 20k, complete)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 6 Premise: If Voldemort is doused with Amortentia keyed to Harry, and starts sending Harry bizarre and gruesome courting gifts, like the bodies of the Dursleys. Why I rec it: Breathtaking prose! Voldemort somehow ends up more terrifying when he’s trying to woo Harry than when he’s trying to kill him. Every single sentence had me on the edge of my seat, as Voldemort’s ‘gifts’ become more elaborate and devastatingly dramatic, until Harry basically has no choice but to respond to his overtures. The ending is incredibly clever in how it parallels certain plot elements of book 6, with an added Harrymort twist.

The Untouchable by @treacleteacups (M, 75k, complete)

Setting: Canon Rewrite (Books 1-7) Premise: If Harry starts out his first year a little bit more suspicious and a little less wide-eyed and guileless, and subsequently gets sorted into Slytherin. He has many of the same encounters with Voldemort along the way as he does in canon, but his interactions with Voldemort will end up leading him down quite a different path. Why I rec it: A snappy, fast-paced full canon rewrite that still manages to fit in all the essential Tomarrymort plot points, between Horcruxes and Hallows and the major events of books 1-7, in a compact 75k words that doesn’t at all feel rushed. It’s a delightful journey following Harry’s character evolution from an overlooked, peculiar child who relies on wishy-washy wish magic to a confident (and still endearingly peculiar) young man who can challenge and hold his own against the great Lord Voldemort. Voldemort’s obsession with Harry deepens with every encounter that they have, as he finds ways to continually insinuate himself in Harry’s life and his mind and his dreams.

#Tomarrymort Starter Pack #tomarrymort #tomarry #harrymort #aethon recs #tomarry recs #tomarrymort recs #harrymort recs #hp fic recs #longfic recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #2023 reads #2023 recs

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joffyworld · 13 days ago

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A Celebration

I wanted to make this post as a post-October celebration of my experiences here.

You've all been amazing. Each and every one of you. To anyone who ever sees this, consider us friends and kindred spirits. I mean that from the bottom of my heart, Joffy is a friend to all! I understand some fear para-sociality, and rightly so. I know it's a bit of a dirty word, but while I may never know you in real life, while I may always be a stranger on the internet, that does not preclude kindness from our times here. You are all people, as am I, and there is no illusion of the opposite on my end.

I came into this community just a month ago, driven almost purely by an obsession with the TROD au written by the amazing @bamsara. Since then, I have fallen in love with so many AU's, so many fics, so many oneshots, and so many pieces that I never would have found otherwise, from the horrific cannibalistic nightmares of @teruuu and @yellowflowrs, to the cute and joyous wonders of artists like @junoberrii, @the-artist-grimm, @spiderin-space, @zynical-forg , @7-ferrets-in-a-coat, @cconfusedkat, @frecktheheck, @lagomorphics and @lil-vibes to the beautifully shameless smut and humour of @melle-d, the wonderous fantastical realms of artists like @aychama, @aniimoni and @stychu-stych and the incredibly well written and crushing experiences of writers such as @kiko---random-stuff-probably, @olrinarts and @alllgator-blood. It has all been an incredible experience to watch, every single shade and genre of art and creativity, and I wouldn't have it any other way! I never expected to have so much fun, so much joy, and such a range of emotions all at once, yet here we are!

My welcome into this community has been astonishing. The kindness, the warmth, the laughs, the tears, the silliness, the naughtiness, the evil, the good. It's all been such a wonder to behold. That's not even mentioning the activism, the understanding and the fundraising I've seen with my own eyes! You've all bred a community of love here, and each and every one of you should be proud of that.

Every mutual I make, I am reminded that kindness breeds kindness. When I started this blog, my only wish was to indulge my madness until it passed, to see if maybe instead of suppressing my own interests, indulging them could perhaps instead lead to a less anxious conclusion? I had often been consumed with anxiety as I fought to pretend I was "normal" and it's always been a tough thing for me. By God has being here helped.

I have embraced who I am as a person, I have learnt things about communities I knew nothing about. I've grown empathies for groups I once found hard to relate to, I've felt joy and comfort from strangers where the world has oft left me dejected. I've met so many people similar to me, completely different from me, and all that lies in-between.

I have met the most beautiful souls in the world, I've seen works of art that made me marvel them as though they were classics of antiquity. I've engaged in silly debates, I've interacted with people I look up to so deeply, I've seen talents I didn't know exist. Most of all, I have found a community that understands me, from the autistic and disabled to the regularly deranged and beautifully obsessed <3

And all of this has inspired me to write my own content, to indulge my own mind in ways I have long tried to leave behind, and find my own stride among the crowd of similarly inspired people. To say the words of you people have changed me is to lie, because it doesn't even begin to describe it.

To anyone I haven't directly @'d, I apologise. I wish I could plug you all, but my memory is fragile, and I'm on the mobile app. But know, that whoever you are, friend or foe, you are ASTONISHING. And should I wake up and remember your names, I'd gladly add them with your permissions. There's not a single person I've seen that hasn't amazed me in brand new ways each time, and every time I compliment your works I mean it from the bottom of my soul.

And to anyone who reads this, whether they be an artist, writer, creator of any stripe, or simply a friendly face or a lurking presence in the shadows:

Thank You,

Thank You So Much,

Joffy

#cotl #cult of the lamb #JoffyAnnouncements #JoffyJoff #(if anyone wants their @ removed PLEASE let me know)#(The LAST thing i want is to upset anyone :3)#Happy November 1st!

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catholicdaredevil · 10 months ago

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disarming || tormund giantsbane x gn! reader

hello all! i haven't posted anything i've written in a while (over a year) but when prompted by my daughter grack i searched back through my google docs and found this fic that i don't think i ever posted so here we go! (also this hasn't been edited lol)

summary: gn! reader kills a thenn and tormund is bricked over it

words: 2k

warnings: violence!!!!!! use of knives, punching, kicking, stabbing, and killing!!!! to be fair it's all canon typical violence for game of thrones but still there's your warning! also short references to nsfw but no detailed action

ao3 link

Warm callused hands framed your face and he leaned in to kiss you.

Except Tormund didn’t kiss you, kiss was too gentle a word for it, he consumed you. Every time he pressed his mouth to yours it was like he was trying to drink you down, overwhelming sensations of nothing but him causing your brain to go haywire. He didn’t give pecks, no small chaste kisses, that was your thing. When you’d walk past him and pause just to creep up on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his cheek then carry on with whatever you were previously doing. Sometimes he let you, he knew you liked those gentle kisses, wanted to give you whatever you wanted when he could.

However most times he’d slip his hands into your hair, or around your waist and pull you into him with strength you couldn’t get out of if you tried, tip your head back and deepen the kiss. And if when you finally pulled away you looked dizzy, hair a mess and breathing ragged, then that was just a bonus.

“I swear on–on– on all of the southern gods, every single one of them, that if you ever come near me again I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” your finger jabbed into the Thenn’s chest, loud voice carrying throughout the camp. You can hear the mutters of people gathering around, the syncopated overlapped voices of the other free folk watching, waiting.

“If you didn’t have Tormund to back you up I bet you’d be so much quieter. Maybe you need someone to teach you to be quiet, little one.” He leaned in, voice low and predatory with a grin stretching out the scars that covered his face. Those white lines marking a Thenn that always made a chill run down your spine.

“I need no one to back me up, I don't want Tormund’s help and he couldn’t stop me if he wanted to. You think I would be Tormund’s if I couldn’t handle my own?”

As if he could sense his name spoken from across the way, you hear Tormund walk up, his loud voice familiar enough to pick out of the crowd circled around you and the Thenn.

“What’s going on?” Tormund’s words end in a growl as he finally breaks through the masses to see you.

Your mouth twisted down into an angry frown and the hand not currently inches from the other man’s chest is clenched into a fist and trembling just slightly at your side. He takes the final few steps to get to your side, a glare pinning the man in front of you in place. He had joked before but only a fool didn’t hesitate going up against Tormund Giantsbane. There was a reason he was Tall-Talker, Horn-Blower and Breaker of Ice. Tormund was less a man and more a force, a storm that roved over lands destroying anything stupid enough to get in his way.

Tormund’s hand rests on your shoulder, his body tense in anticipation, always seconds away from swinging a blade at anyone who so much as dares to glare at you and this is no different. You speak one last time before turning to walk off, “I won’t warn you again.”

“And how do you plan to kill me little one? By whinging? Yelling? You couldn’t kill me if Tormund trained you for years.”

His cocky words are enough to break your last shred of patience left and you spin before Tormund can react, stomping across the frozen dirt, fist clenched and ready to throw a punch. Luckily Tormund recovers fast enough to grab your elbow mid-swing and you round on him, ready to yell that you’d had enough of that shit eating grin and he could try to eat his next kill with less teeth.

“You’ll break your sweet little hand on that ugly fucker, here.” Tormund lifts your hand to kiss across your knuckles and pushes a knife into it and nods approvingly, twisting you around to face the Thenn again. You get to watch the smirk melt off the man’s face. This is no longer a game, not even an argument. He has two options now; let you kill him or fight you and have Tormund kill him. There’s no scenario where he lays a hand on you and lives to talk about it.

“I’ll make you a deal. You disarm me fair and square and you win, Tormund’ll let you live. If not, I carve that smirk from your face.” Your head tilts expectantly and the Thenn’s eyes shift from you to Tormund, watching the small nod Tormund gives in agreement before looking back to you.

He grins. “Deal.”

He moves faster than you expected, quick for such a large man, but it doesn’t matter. He swings his hand out to hit you and you duck, adrenaline surging through you as your instincts take over. He’s a fool and a cocky one at that and you’re going to show him. You drop your breathing to slow and controlled, crouching slightly to study him, eyes scanning over his tall form to pick out the best places to strike.

His leg shoots out and slams into your side. Pain blossoms across your stomach and you bite your cheek to muffle your cry, wrapping your arm around his ankle to keep him on one foot. He’s stronger than you and you know you won’t be able to hold him there for long, but you don’t need long. Your blade sinks into his leg right above his knee, twisting before you yank it back out and he tugs his leg from you with a scream. He expects you to attempt to hold onto it, so when you drop it the force of his pull twists him off balance and he has to stumble to catch himself, grunting through the shooting pain the steps cause.

“You’re a fool. You’re a fool and I warned you.” You spit blood at his feet. He looks up to meet your eyes again and there’s a split second where you’re concerned about the rage so clearly shown on his every feature. Taking a deep breath, you force your body to relax, shaking out the tension in your joints and twisting your head until your neck cracks loudly.

The sounds of the crowd have risen, voices overlapping and in the back of your mind you register a familiar voice shushing them all. The man in front of you is too focused on kicks, anything to keep you as far from him as possible thinking his strength lies in his reach spanning farther than your own. He swings a hand and his fist connects with your temple, your entire head rings, vision going blurry and black around the edges and you gasp.

It takes you a moment to catch your bearings, a few stumbled steps and ragged intakes of breath, and that’s all it takes. The bottom of his foot lands solidly on your chest and he pushes with a force that likely cracked several ribs, knocking you to the ground. His own chest heaves with exertion, walking forward to stand over you and you can see the way he struggles with restraint, unused to leaving an enemy alive after a fight.

He opens his mouth to speak and hesitates at the last second. Blood trails down your chin, shadowing a grin that gives him pause in his victory, but not long enough to stop the words from falling out of his mouth. “Fair and square.”

“I said disarm me,”

He puts the pieces together too late.

The knife still clutched tightly in your hand that wrapped around where he stood slices through the back of his ankles on both feet and he drops with a scream. Crumpling to the ground, the Thenn grabs at his bleeding feet, attempting to staunch the blood that flows around his fingers and pours onto the ground below him. You’ve risen to your feet in his panic, swaying slightly as your head gets caught up in the dizzy waves of a concussion. Luckily your adrenaline still pumping through your veins is enough to keep you standing long enough for him to look up at you and lock eyes one last time.

Your knife finds its home in the small space between the side of his collarbone and neck, right where it’s still soft and relatively easy to drive it as far in as it will go. You push until the heel of the knife clinks into bone and he finally collapses below you, ripping the hilt from your hand in his fall. He lets out one final choked off gurgle, eyes rolling back and lids closing and he’s dead. His and your blood stains your hands and clothes, a messy watercolor of death.

Now that the fight is over your body threatens to collapse, hands on your locked-up knees to keep from hitting the ground. Eyes slammed shut in an attempt to limit the way the world spins on his axis like a top and warm large arms wrap around your middle to vault you into the air.

The earth shakes below you, but maybe that’s just Tormund in his raucous laughter and shouted words. “I told you all! Mine doesn’t need anyone for anything! Only needs me around to fuck them ‘til they cry!”

Heat blooms in your face at his exclamation to the surrounding crowd, your hand smacking into his shoulder feebly. You doubt that even with all your strength you could do much to the man beyond a bee sting, but he grunts in fake pain at your strike just to indulge you. “I don’t think I need you for even that, I did a pretty good job at doing it myself before you came along.”

“But I do it better.”

His almost crystal blue eyes meet yours and he’s wearing that shit-eating, Tormund Giantsbane, wolfish grin. The one that probably earned him the name Tall Talker if you had to guess. The look is more familiar than even your family and you can’t help but mirror it back at him in your own way, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Aye, you uncivilized great behemoth of a man. You do it better.”

Tormund connects his lips with yours, quickly licking into your mouth to deepen the kiss, drinking you down. He gets the satisfaction of the taste of you and the bitter clash of your blood that only spurs him on until his hands are fisted in your shirt and you’re whining into his mouth, almost grinding onto him from your place in his arms.

His hold on you only tightens until he pushes on your cracked ribs and you jerk away from his touch with a broken gasp. You drop your head to his shoulder, breathing slowly through the sharp pain until it passes, slipping back into the gentle throb it sits at as a baseline. Tormund presses a kiss to your forehead, one hand softly running up the line of your spine in comfort, already walking towards your shared home.

“Let’s get those clothes off and I can see just how hurt you are.” He says, pushing aside the door and kicking it shut behind the two of you. He sets you down on the bed delicately, not wanting to cause you anymore pain and you smile up at him standing above you.

“I’m fine really. Well– I might have a concussion.”

“I’ll get you taken care of my pretty little crow. Then I’ll make you cum on my tongue so many times you cry. Seeing you kill a Thenn has me harder than I think I’ve ever been in my life.” Tormund speaks the words like they’re normal, a casual conversation and mention of murder being sexy. Of course you’re sure a big part of the whole sexy-murder thing has to do with his hatred for Thenn’s and the specificity of your victim. Not that you’ll complain, or turn down the offer.

#game of thrones #tormund giantsbane #game of thrones x reader #tormund giantsbane x reader #tormund x reader #tormund giantsbane fic #tormund giantsbane fanfic #game of thrones fic #ezra writes

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tonythr · 6 months ago

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The Watcher's telescope view is a social commentary and here's why

Ok so let's set some things right first. City of Tears is amazing.

(Yes, Pale Court is also an amazing mod)

I've played Hollow Knight many times, and City of Tears is probably the one location I never get tired of. The scenery, the lore, the room layout, the music, the atmosphere - it's all perfect. It's the culmination of Halllownest's beauty, the peak of the game's art style, and the narrative's most essential location. City of Tears is the heart of Hollow Knight.

This game is a story about a Kingdom and its death, a tragedy of a society that was built on dreams of light but ultimately was consumed by the light so much that darkness became its only hope. And City of Tears stands at the center of this story. So it's fitting that the themes of corrupted dreams, society flaws, and dark hopes are what shape the lore and atmosphere of this beautiful, gorgeous location.

Did you ever notice that the tears of this Kingdom are dark despite them originating in a glowing blue lake, and the waters that flood the streets are almost as dark as the void in the Abyss? Do you ever think about how the vibrant blue color of the City is basically a culmination of how the color blue is presented in other locations (Howling Cliffs, Forgotten Crossroads, and later Royal Waterways being more of a remix of it), and how it's tied to the very essence of Hallownest (and how Resting Grounds, the location that contains Blue Lake and also uses a bright blue color, represent the very foundation of Hallownest's history, that being Seer's story about the Moth Tribe's betrayal that started the war between Pale King and the Radiance)? Do you feel like Soul Master basically represents the thunder and the lightning in this never-ending rain? Do you get it????

Anyway yeah, there are many things that can be said about City of Tears, and this is hopefully not the last time I make a post about it. What I want to talk about here is the City's society.

Basically, Monomon said it better than anyone could:

It's a very complicated topic. The narrative basically explores the inner mechanisms of a free mind, how its primary need is finding a purpose, and how its purpose turns out to be a constant need of... something. Anything. As long as there is something to want, a free mind will want it. As long as there is something to yearn for, something to enjoy, something to dream about, our minds are going to move in its direction, never wanting to stop. Because a stasis is worse than death. Because a world without dreams is an empty world.

But then again, isn't constant yearning another instance of, well, constance? If dreams never end but also never evolve, doesn't that create another kind of stasis?

Like I said, it's very complicated. Let's go back to what I was getting at in the first place. What I actually wanted to say is this:

Theese guys fucking fucked up as a society.

It's classic dystopian shit (or maybe I'm using the wrong word, but you get the point). Rich people are living in luxury while the rest are suffering. They're making gold a fucking religion and are seeing it as the only beauty in the world. The corrupt upper class are using heavy gatekeeping on the lower class.

Literally.

What's interesting is that, at first, we barely see any lower class bugs in the City. There's suspiciously few regular husks in this location, compared to how many rich guys are on the eastern side. But then we get to Soul Sanctum and it all starts to make sense.

There are no red cloaks in those corpse piles. Only the poor were killed for those experiments. It can't be a coincidence. It's straight-up elitism-based genocide (again, I don't know if I'm using the right terms, correct me if there's a better way to say that, but the point is clear).

Also, see how many streets are flooded on the western side in comparison to the eastern side.

Point is, the bugs that ruined the kingdom by always wanting more (what Monomon wrote about) are most likely theese rich ones. It's a very fitting thing for this dystopian narrative: neverending greed that leads to the downfall of a civilization.

There's a note in the Hunter's Journal that describes it in the best way possible:

For every location in the game, there is a place that functions as the center of its essence, its narrative heart, the culmination of its themes. For Queen's Gardens it's the White Lady's cocoon, for Greenpath it's the Lake of Unn, and for City of Tears (or at least its eastern part, the one with the upper class) it's the Watcher's Spire. The tallest building of the great capital. The home of (evidently) the most rich and influential bug of the City's high society. Literally the top of this social hierarchy.

He is also arguably the most mysterious dreamer out of all three. I mean, why does he have only one eye? What type of bug is he? How did he get this much power? Does he really have some kind of connection with the Collector? Is he a motherfucking fluke? Why does he seem to have an obsession with serving the King?

That last question is kinda answered by the cut content though.

That last sentence is kinda confusing. Is it regret? Is it humility? Is it pride in his sacrifice? In any case, here we see that Lurien actually knew that the Pale King was literally a god, and desired to worship him, like any other bug yearns to worship some kind of deity. So while other bugs of Hallownest worshiped PK because he was a monarch, albeit a godlike one (for all they knew he could be just an extraordinary bug, but a bug nonetheless), Lurien worshiped him as an actual god. And the intricacies of worshiping a god are one of the central themes of the game. From the moth tribe's betrayal of Radiance leading to the birth of the Infection to the Godseeker's shenanigans leading to the birth of the Shade Lord - the game makes multiple statements about gods, religious devotion and the semantics of divine power. Just that one idea that a god takes its power from the ones that worship it deserves its own post - heck, it deserves its own book.

So yeah, Lurien's devotion to the King is an important part of the story. He sure is an important character in this narrative. He also got a cool house. Being able to observe the entirety of the Hallownest's capital is badass.

But there's one thing I find odd about all that, and it's the moment we get to actually look through his legendary telescope.

Is it just me, or does this feel kinda... Underwhelming? Almost disappointing? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love this view, it's beautiful, and I would certainly love to be able to see something like this with my own eyes irl, but, looking at this picture, I can't help but wonder...

Did he actually see anything from up there?

In cut dialogue, Lurien talks about how he loves the City's streets, and his hidden lore tablet contains words about his love for bugkind, but... I see neither any streets on this image, nor any bugs (that are not vengeflies). Only spiked rooftops and rainy fog, clouding the view of the actual City.

And sure, the Spire has many windows and even had multiple watchers who were helping Lurien with overseeing the capital...

But his own spot was always this one.

His telescope was sealed in one place, letting him see only a small portion of the City and its life. Almost like his own worldview was stuck in one perspective.

Notice the wording here. It's not "The Seals must remain". It's "Bonds must remain". He's not thinking just about the Seals containing the Infection. He's thinking about the whole Kingdom needing to stay unchanged. His dream is the stasis that the Knight (and also Monomon, Hornet and, in a sense, even Radiance) want to end. The stasis that the Pale King wanted to create in order for his Kingdom (and therefore himself) to be eternal. The stasis that would allow for both Pale King and Lurien's worship of him to remain forever.

But there is always a cost to ascending higher than others, and it's that you can no longer see what's going on below or who's suffering down there. I think Lurien, sitting atop the tallest tower, was actually detached from the struggles of regular bugs. He and his Spire are the culmination of the City's upper class' ignorance towards the ones who were below them on the social hierarchy. A dreamer who dreamt of watching over the very heart of the holy civilization lived so high up he could no longer see his beloved world in its complicated, detailed entirety – and the tears of the stasis created by those like him only blinded him more.

All those flooded streets, those broken buildings, those empty halls, those starving bugs, those sealed doors - even though he watched over them, he couldn't see them.

I'm pretty sure Lurien didn't even know about the Soul Master's experiments, despite the fact that the Soul Sanctum was located right next to his Spire.

Or maybe he knew but chose to turn a blind eye to it (pun intended).

But it's kind of poetic, isn't it? It's the beauty of the tragedy of this game's characters. A Beast who had to surrender everything to the opposing civilization. A Teacher who could no longer teach. A Watcher who couldn't see the truth.

And all that makes me wonder... How much suffering could the Pale King see, standing on that platform at the top of the Abyss, facing away from the pit where his children died?

TL;DR: Lurien's point of view was too high up to actually see what was truly going on down there, both literally and metaphorically. His desire to worship the Pale King made him ignorant of the struggles of regular bugs. Similarly, the extreme elitism of the high society of Hallownest lead to ignorance, discrimination and greed, which ultimately caused the sprawl of the Infection. This side of Lurien's story might also parallel the Pale King's with his ignorance towards the discarded vessels.

TL;DR²: Eat the rich

#hollow knight #hollow knight theory #hollow knight lore #lurien the watcher #city of tears #hallownest #pale king #monomon the teacher #soul master #character analysis #social commentary

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vidavalor · 2 months ago

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The Devil Takes The Hindmost

The Big Damn Post I've promised for ages on all the stuff suggesting that what we're watching in S2 is Aziraphale's mental health crisis leading to his fall...

...with a focus on a religious concept that intersects with secular ideas about mental health-- The Devil Takes The Hindmost-- that was unintentionally mentioned by Mrs. Sandwich and might be what's going on in The Final 15.

Plus, a look at the possible purpose of The Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Traders Association in the story and a dive into the symbolic role in Aziraphale's story played by Muriel... the most adorable Angel of Death anyone's ever seen.

@ao3cassandraic @komorezuki @kayleefansposts @masnadies -- This is basically what I was starting to talk about the other night, if you're interested. @ochre-sunflower -- the meta I mentioned.

TWs: suicide; depression; PTSD; negative self-thoughts... It's optimistic by the end but it's a look at some darker stuff in the story so please take care.

In GO S2, we have a lot of stressors building and overlapping for Aziraphale, with each episode adding new ones, all boiling hotter and hotter until we reach the The Meeting Ball. There, everything stops for the arrival of Shax at the door.

When she turns up, all the other plots cease to be relevant in the moment because the whole story's stakes upon her arrival now come down to a single, pivotal question:

Are these demons going to get into the bookshop?

On the surface, in our plot, Shax, Eric and the smallest number of completely ineffectual demons that a redemptive Furfur could get away with sending without looking like a traitor 😉 are interrupting Aziraphale having turned his first pass at hosting the monthly meeting of The Whickber Street Shopkeepers & Traders Association into a party.

Why is he doing that? For a dizzying number of reasons. So he can try to protect Gabriel by getting Maggie and Nina together and try to be part of his community by using the party to get Maggie and Nina together which is also so he can protect Gabriel... but, let's be real, it's really all so he can dance with Crowley...

Our heads are spinning as much as Aziraphale's is by this point and it's exhausting just to try to recap everything he's dealing with by The Meeting Ball... which is why it probably isn't surprising that all of that story just stops when the brick goes through the window and Shax is at the door. Because, symbolically...

...this is an anxiety attack.

Shax and the demons are Aziraphale's inner demons and they're trying to force their way past the threshold to take control of the bookshop the way that darkness can consume a person...

...as they're trying to take control of the bookshop that is what, symbolically?

Aziraphale, yes.

Aziraphale and Crowley. (And, as we looked at recently, also Maggie, on account of her family's history with it.)

Why this bookshop attack that is a metaphorical anxiety attack at this point in the story?

Because a lot of what Aziraphale wants out of life was happening before the demons that represent his inner demons showed up at the party.

For the first time ever, Aziraphale was no longer compartmentalizing his worlds and hiding parts of his life from people. He had Maggie and Gabriel under the same roof-- his human and angel families together. He had neighbors over and felt brave enough to call himself one of them by hosting the meeting. He was impacting the society around him in a big way by unifying Whickber Street's black market with its "legitimate" front by inviting Mrs. Sandwich to join the group. He was helping Maggie and Nina fall in love.

Most importantly, there was what the whole thing was really for: having all that happen with Crowley there, too, and everyone knowing they are together. Being able to dance with him and be a couple openly like everyone else. This Jane Austen cotillion coming out ball for ladies Maggie and Nina is really a coming out party of sorts for Crowley and Aziraphale. This is like the Christmas party of Aziraphale's dreams here. The one he's never, ever been able to have.

It's a wonderful thing when people who are in a great deal of emotional pain decide they've just had enough and want to break free of their misery and allow themselves to work towards being happier.

It's just a very delicate period because it can go either way, in a hurry. One minute a person can be thinking they're on top of the world and starting to live the life they've been dreaming of but the next minute find themselves freefalling emotionally. This is especially true of people who feel they have to present as cheerful and optimistic for everyone else and who hide their pain behind a smile.

They are some of the most at risk of their lives becoming like the Salinger short story about trauma and suicide referenced in S2-- "A Perfect Day for Bananafish"-- in which a man suffering from PTSD is believed to be fine by himself and those around him, has a nice day at the sea and chats with a symbolic daughter-like character and then, unceremoniously, goes to his hotel room and shoots himself dead.

As Maggie shows us during The Meeting Ball when she parallels Aziraphale's struggle, people get tired of being afraid and want to live-- want Nina, who is coffee, which is freedom-- but they can overdo it, if they're not careful, and wind up taking steps backwards.

Sometimes, the thrill of feeling like they might be on the edge of something good can cause someone to go too far, too fast, and, without the right support, they can find themselves going faster than a rollercoaster-- and right off a cliff as a result.

These people might look at their inner demons and think they're fine, now, actually, and that the darkness doesn't frighten them at all and they're all over their negative stuff-- all good now. No problems here.

Problem is that, sometimes, in the process, they might realize they're lying to themselves when they suddenly tell those inner demons that they can come in and say all that pathetic shit to their face... before they're really ready for that. Maggie, paralleling Aziraphale here, shows that with Shax during the bookshop attack. Not the best way to deal with inner demons, that.

And one person's inner demons can be an unintentional trigger for others, which is one of the things that started off Aziraphale's mental health crisis boiling up into a breakdown earlier in the season.

Aziraphale was already having a terrible week and then he projected his own issues all over his adopted goddaughter when she was having a moment and wound up accidentally saying something about himself that she took to mean about her and that came out sounding incredibly hurtful in a way that Aziraphale didn't mean for it to be. He then sought to make it up to her by finding a way to make her romantic dreams come true but was, all the while, silently berating himself for not having handled it flawlessly in the first place.

And when that got mixed in with trying to *checks Aziraphale's S2 list*... Jesus...

...recover from PTSD, manage all the anxiety and depression that comes along with it, deal with the fallout of his relationships with his abusive family, save his losing it brother from a religious cult/fascist regime trying to kill him and figure out why he's lost his memory, assuage his guilt over the memory-wiped angel that he feels he failed to save that showed up at the door, figure out wtf to do with the bookshop/embassy he's never wanted to run but that has become the M-25 that he's built and is now stuck in and that just reminds him that he hasn't any family to pass it onto, and, most importantly?

Tell his partner that he would like to live openly with him in the a little cottage by the sea in the South Downs...

I mean, by the time Mr. Vacuum showed up and suggested that Aziraphale add to the list that this week also be the first time he's ever hosted the monthly meeting of the business organization of the street he's basically founded but doesn't let himself really feel like he belongs to?

Sure, Mr. Carpet. Sure. Bring it on. Why not, at this point?

But Mr. Vacuum's idea actually caused Aziraphale to think he had the perfect solution-- continue to do what he was doing all week and combine this shit together! Protect Gabriel by tying him to Maggie and Nina and solve Maggie and Nina through the Whickber Street meeting and, well, if he's going to make it romantic for Maggie and Nina, well...

...maybe this is how Aziraphale can solve his biggest problem-- finding more of a way to just be forever near that one, particular person who makes everything okay.

So, by the time we get to The Meeting Ball? Aziraphale is pretty much losing his damn mind.

The heebie jeebies that Crowley gets in the street? It's not the low-rent demons. He knows what they feel like. He can't identify it but the thing that is really, really wrong is Aziraphale himself, in a dark reverse of Aziraphale feeling Crowley's love in S1.

Thousands of years of feeling a lack of enough control over his life have basically led Aziraphale to snap. Parts of it are very funny. Gabriel dressed up as Liberace circling with temptation trays of vol-au-vents is as hilarious as it is loony. Miracling the room so that everyone speaks like it's the 19th century causes a lot of humorous scenes, especially with Mrs. Sandwich... but is also a horror show. Justine loses her ability to speak English well and others have trouble understanding one another. It's like a zanier, more comedic version of Aziraphale's parallel antichrist, Adam, taking over The Them and deciding how, when, and if at all, they could speak.

It's a person in Aziraphale, who is normally very kind to others but not really to themselves, whose pain and anger have built within them to a breaking point and caused them to take that out on others and become, for a moment, almost the exact kind of person from whom he tries to protect others.

During this part of the season, Mrs. Cheng and Mrs. Sandwich have some dialogue that I think might be the whole rest of the season's plot in a nutshell. It happens here:

Mrs. Sandwich being unaware that "seamstress" is a 19th century-era euphemism for a sex worker means that she doesn't realize that she actually is, on one level, telling Mrs. Cheng what she does for a living. Her frustration is coming from the fact that Mrs. Cheng also doesn't know this euphemism and so thinks Mrs. Sandwich is a literal seamstress-- someone who sews and mends clothes-- and not a figurative/euphemistic one. While that and the rest of this scene is worth a whole deep dive in and of itself, it's not the bit I want to focus on here. That bit is what Mrs. Sandwich says as she gets increasingly upset.

Keep in mind as we look at this that the person who is the literal seamstress in this scene is not Mrs. Sandwich. It's the person whose magic is inhibiting her speech-- so, who is speaking, in a roundabout way, through her-- and who is the one changing everyone's outfits as they come through the door.

The seamstress really of note here is Aziraphale.

In the midst of her frustration, Mrs. Sandwich is trying to curse in 2023 terms but they are coming out in 19th century-era equivalents and this means that she says the following things when cursing:

She insists that she's not a godforsaken (abandoned by God; left to Satan) seamstress, that she's not a benighted (taken by darkness) seamstress, and, finally... while probably trying to say "what the hell"... winds up saying the whole season's plot in response to Mrs. Cheng asking her the also rather meta question of "what, in short" the problem is in that moment.

What, in short, is the plot?, asks Mrs. Cheng, on a meta level.

What the fuck is going on in this story?

To which Mrs. Sandwich replies:

"The Devil take it."

The curse "The Devil take it"-- meaning you give so little about something or someone that Satan can have it-- comes from a religious teaching (that works very well from a secular perspective, too) known as "The Devil Takes the Hindmost". It's this teaching that I think is extremely important to S2 and is arguably around what the story is structured.

This teaching argues that people who are excessively self-sacrificing are putting themselves at risk of being taken by darkness/Satan because of the cumulative effects of the anger, anxiety and depression that comes of denying that they are people with wants and needs of their own for too long.

It's about the people who go beyond kindness. It's about those who don't see themselves as part of the pack of people and think that the world isn't for them. They believe that their needs and wants don't matter as much as the need to prove to themselves that they aren't a horrible person-- which they do, in their minds, by denying themselves a full life of their own.

Sound familiar? It should. It's Aziraphale to a T.

Why are these people in "The Hindmost" for Satan to take when they're not terrible people?

Because they fall to the back of the pack of humanity.

Because they are left open to the darkness because they do not allow themselves to have what they work so hard to help others make for themselves.

The pain of that eventually renders them as bad off emotionally as those they counsel, or worse. The more they deny themselves, the more that pain builds and it can push them down dark paths.

They're in "The Hindmost" not because anyone left them behind, exactly, but because they've shut out the people around them.

They aren't letting people in.

It's about here that we can bring up that Good Omens is built around doors and all of S2 is basically about getting in the bookshop that is Aziraphale. It's here that we can mention Shax-- the darkness-- repeating demands to Aziraphale, to Crowley, to Beez to be let in. It's here we can mention The Final 15 and the world's most depressing kiss-- the literal embodiment of "let me in" as a theme-- and the horribleness that followed.

So, if S2 is The Devil Takes the Hindmost and he's headed Aziraphale's way the whole season with a large oat milk latte with a hefty jigger or dash or whatever of almond syrup and the job (the Job...) offer from Hell to tempt him, then we're watching (for now) the last days of the angel Aziraphale because a fall is a form of death.

It doesn't mean it's the end entirely because, as Gabriel discovered, everything goes down but flies? They go up.

Flies are the product of letting someone in and not shutting out the love and care you need. That can only be done through accepting, at least for a little while, that you are allowed to be a person and deserve to be cared for the way you care for others. If a person does that, they can fall but they'll have what they need to get back up and to help them stave off future falls.

Letting people in and talking to people about how you feel-- figuratively: feeding your fellow ducks your frozen peas and listening to theirs--- is how we all defeat the darkness together and make it so that Satan never shows up at any of our doors.

Yes, it is, Crowley. Would have been helpful if you had mentioned any of your own Hell-and-Book-of-Life frozen peas at all to anyone but the audience all S2 but this meta isn't really directly about you so you get a pass for now 😂 Back to your partner...

So, this The Devil Takes The Hindmost stuff? Almost immediately after Mrs. Sandwich says it, the story begins to have the characters literally act it out.

Shax is The Devil in that she's a devout diabolical minister of Satan so she's representing Satan at the door.

First up? Gabriel.

Gabriel mirrors Aziraphale's excessive self-sacrificing. It doesn't matter to him that he just met most of the people in the bookshop an hour or something ago. If that angry mob outside wants him for who fucking knows what reason as this poor bastard can't remember anything 😂 then Gabriel is happy to throw himself on his sword for them.

In reality, no one in the shop should have let Gabriel go out there alone. The whole point of "The Devil Takes The Hindmost" is that if everyone looks after each other the best that they can?

There won't *be* any hindmost.

There will just a pack of people who are all keeping each other safe from the darkness.

Jim is ultimately fine to tussle with Shax, though, because that is the part of the teaching that he exemplifies.

Gabriel has been protected. He's not completely fine-- who ever is, really?-- and he's still not really over this current bout of depression but he's safe from Satan and the darkness.

He's safe because he has Beez, Aziraphale, Crowley, and his new friends on Whickber Street.

Gabriel has a pack and is allowing himself to be part of it. As such?

The Devil can't touch him. Shax can't recognize him and sends him back inside. Gabriel is not in The Hindmost because he's been hidden, safely, by his group.

Gabriel goes back to the middle of the pack where he spends the rest of the attack, helping Aziraphale fight off his metaphorical inner demons by way of aiding Maggie and Nina to save the bookshop.

It's the next to the door, though, who is not so lucky, and gets to be the first example of The Hindmost.

From the way, way back of the pack that has formed of the humans, Gabriel, Crowley and Aziraphale in the middle of the bookshop pushes forward our beloved Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets.

The President of The Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Traders Association-- the Gabriel of the humans-- feels it's his job to sort out this mess... only he has even less clue as to what's going on than Gabriel did... and he's much, much more vulnerable.

Mr. Brown tells Shax that he doesn't know why she is "interfering" with the people in the shop, unknowingly using the word used in religious circles to talk about The Devil coming after people. Mr. Brown is a guy at real risk here. Going into the circle and getting discorporated if you're not prepared? Facing The Devil at the door without preparation is the same, terrible thing. Mr. Carpet has no idea wtf he's up against here and his motivations for going to the door are the heart of The Devil Takes The Hindmost.

What does our lionhearted Mr. Brown do for a living? What is he, symbolically?

He sells carpets, right? What are carpets?

Well, they're rugs, for one thing. They're found in every business and home in existence. They are necessary for living and also an example of having comfort in your life. (They're also walked on and taken for granted, like our Mr. Brown is quite a bit.) You pick out carpets on your own or with the people with whom you are making a life-- and they tend to symbolize that life.

We see, in 2.06, the shot highlighting the lotus flower carpet that Crowley and Aziraphale have in the bookshop, that they use to cover up the Heavenly circle in the floor-- the one they put Gabriel on to do the protection miracle. It symbolizes the life Crowley and Aziraphale have made together to which they've now let Gabriel in.

What else are carpets? In Good Omens' use of language, they're also cars and pets. Rugs, cars and pets... three of the most common things owned by people living a life on Earth, with the word own itself in Mr. Brown's name.

Brown's *World* of *Carpets*... this dude is, symbolically, everyone.

He's life itself.

That's why it's Mr. Brown who gets taken by the demons and, later, saved by Crowley and left in the care of Mutt, who is human magic-- the character who symbolizes the wonder and mystery and joys of being alive.

Mr. Brown-- an extremely common name for a man whose pain is extremely common. He's lonely. He's overlooked. He's the president of this group of apostrophe and Christmas lights-obsessed, irritating and wonderful, typical, human people because he's unflappable and no one else wants to do it. No one else will do all the boring work and hear all the complaints the way he will and he's made that his role and he hates it. In that way, he's the Beez of Whickber Street-- as desperate for appreciation as Aziraphale. He's Burbage and Shakespeare, wanting an audience that isn't sleeping, drunk, or flirting their way through Hamlet. He's Crowley and Aziraphale:

Mmm, good job... Oh, do you really think so?

Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets is a professional carpet salesman. He spends his days selling everyone what they need to make lives of their own but his own life is far lonelier and smaller than he would like it to be. He doesn't have a partner or true friends, just the people of the group into which he's struggled to really fit, despite running it. He's nerdy and awkward. His over-the-top, affected manner of speaking belies the fact that he feels like he's jiggery pokery, through and through. If I took Mr. Brown's name and profession out of this paragraph, I could be describing Aziraphale just as easily, but for the fact that Aziraphale does have Crowley, if not in the open way he wishes for. Because of that, Mr. Brown being taken by The Devil is also foreshadowing the end of S2 for Aziraphale.

Like most, Mr. Vacuum has got some surprising resolve-- some unexpected moxie-- but, fundamentally, this man has spent S2 showing that he is one more papercut away from a nervous breakdown.

So, when he tries to prove his worth to the group by putting himself at risk, it's excessively self-sacrificing. While there are some titters of alarm and warnings to him not to leave the pack, the one who objects the most is Crowley. Mr. Brown, though, doesn't let Crowley in. He doesn't recognize him because it's partially to look good in front of Aziraphale that Mr. Brown has jumped to the front of the pack. It's his loneliness, his lack of his own life, his need to be part of the group and appreciated. His need to be the hero.

Only, Mr. Vacuum is what happens when you aren't prepared for the darkness and you haven't let anyone in to help you. Shax, realizing that Crowley has been lying to her about the threshold by the way that all the humans have been backed into the living room, tests the theory and Mr. Vacuum gets taken by The Devil.

The Devil Takes The Hindmost.

Mr. Brown went from the literal hindmost of the pack inside of the bookshop up to the front to self-sacrifice excessively, got taken by Satan, and then, in a darkly amusing turn, got tossed back through to the hindmost of the pack of demons outside. He's also near the back of the line for coffee the next morning at Nina's.

If The Devil can come for Mr. Carpet, we see, he can come for anybody. Now this lingering and malignant sense of unease we've been feeling throughout The Meeting Ball tips here into real horror.

Crowley is up next to evacuate the rest of the humans in the shop. He's going to walk them all in a pack past The Devil. They go out in mini-groups within a larger pack. He tells them that they need to all stick together and mind each other, not the demons.

If they do that, they live. If they don't, they won't.

It becomes that simple because it is that simple.

Crowley doesn't just tell The Whickbers how to do this, though-- he leads them out. Because he's one of them, too... but really also because this is all a metaphor for Aziraphale's mental health breakdown getting going and what happens when you are having an anxiety attack or a depression episode?

What goes out the door?

The things that keep you alive, right? The good stuff in life. That is defined differently for everyone but a lot of it overlaps for many of us. Many of those things are what The Whickber Street group characters stand for in the story. Aziraphale owns the land for most of Whickber Street so, in addition to being characters in their own right, all of the members of The Whickber Street group represent Aziraphale.

They're all the things he loves the most-- his reasons for living, and what helps keep the darkness away for him. This is really why, symbolically, neither they nor Crowley (symbolically, love) can be present in the shop when Aziraphale is melting down at his worst.

Crowley leads the pack out with Mrs. Sandwich up front. He is allowing himself to be part of the pack here. He might be supernatural and the group human but it doesn't matter. They're all people and there's more to it than miracles. Crowley can't face the darkness on his own-- and neither can Mrs. Sandwich. Neither of them should have to. So, they don't. They choose to be each other's friends and let each other in and they're both better for it and so is the rest of the pack. This is an example of how to deal with darkness in a positive way.

Crowley trusts Mrs. Sandwich in general but for this task, in particular, because who knows best how to deal with the darkness?

Survivors of prior run-ins with darkness, that's who. His fellow "fallen woman", Mrs. Sandwich, has got her hat pin and his back and Crowley has hers.

So, out the door of the bookshop that is Aziraphale goes love, friendship, sex, romance, healthy communication, human magic, community, food, music, and so much more... because not taking care with our mental health issues rob us of what we love.

Left in the shop? Maggie and Gabriel-- Aziraphale's past and his family... and Nina-- the possibility of freedom (her American-themed coffee shop) and what's left of Aziraphale's hope for the future. Nina's decision to stay symbolizes Aziraphale hanging onto some hope.

After Crowley and The Whickbers leave and Maggie accidentally lets in Shax, the demons have gotten in and are advancing. Without those who are no longer in the shop and with Crowley missing, Aziraphale's anxiety ratchets up and the demons-- his inner demons-- gain ground. The goal becomes keeping them from getting into the residence floor upstairs-- to the place to which Aziraphale has let hardly anyone in. The parts of himself that are not public-facing or for acquaintances but only for those he allowed himself to get close to. Maggie and Nina can be on the landing up there. Gabriel can stay in the guest room. They're family. Only Crowley is allowed free reign in the whole of the bookshop.

For the first time, we have an angel not named Aziraphale teaming up with humans to fight for a place on Earth. The start of the 'all of us versus all of them' that Crowley foreshadowed as still to come at the end of S1? It isn't some big battle for the planet. It is a battle for the life of a single person in Aziraphale because every person matters.

It's The Commander of The Heavenly Host rooting around the upstairs rooms of the bookshop collecting all the fire extinguishers bought to help Crowley deal with his trauma that he can find to supply his troops-- the human Maggie and Nina-- on the front lines.

It's Aziraphale's loved ones coming together to fight to save the bookshop that is, symbolically, Aziraphale himself.

Ultimately, though? Crowley, Gabriel, Maggie and Nina can help hold off the demons that are symbolically Aziraphale's inner demons but it's ultimately going to come down to Aziraphale and Aziraphale alone whether or not these demons are going to overrun the bookshop.

We reach the point where Aziraphale has to choose-- is he going to let the demons take him over or is he going to send them back? He decides, in this moment, to blow up his halo.

We learn that Aziraphale's halo isn't divinity floating atop his head-- it's a tight, hard band around his mind. It's mental health issues, in physical form. He is in visible pain and breathing shallowly as he struggles to take it off. If you took away the halo from the picture, it's visually very much like someone having an anxiety attack. He uses it to discorporate the demons-- to send his inner demons packing.

Well, almost all of them...

Shax, the one that voices his darkest inner thoughts, remains. She's unconscious for awhile, lying dormant on Crowley's couch.

Aziraphale tells Maggie and Nina that he thinks blowing up his halo might have "just started a war" and, symbolically, it did.

Because when you blow up your halo, it can work for awhile but if you still aren't able to address the underlying, fundamental issues at the root of why you have a halo in the first place, those dark thoughts will come back.

Those demons are coming back and, sure enough, Aziraphale's bookshop is full of plenty of voices by early the next morning. While he won The Battle of The Bookshop, he loses The Battle of The Bananafish the next morning.

While Aziraphale stopped the attack on the shop-- his anxiety attack-- with the halo, we learn the next morning that then something else happened the prior night that we didn't see that is affecting the rest of 2.06. We hear about it from Aziraphale after Satan shows up in this bit here:

What's this, now? Aziraphale doesn't want to chinwag with The Metatron because they already chatted the night before and our angel doesn't think there's anything left to be said. Our angel says he's made his position quite clear.

So, The Metatron got on the circle thing zoom after Aziraphale discorporated demons with it and blew up his halo and, by that point, Aziraphale had had enough.

Aziraphale told The Metatron, in so many words, to go fuck himself.

This is really what Aziraphale is trying to say when he tells Crowley that he "did the thing with The Halo." Yes, he literally blew up his halo to discorporate the demons and stop the bookshop attack but the halo is his the weight of all of his cumulative trauma from Heaven... which makes it also, symbolically, The Metatron. Aziraphale blew up his ties to Heaven by telling off The Metatron. He told off the floating head hanging over his head as part of blowing up the halo crushing his mind.

So, Aziraphale then spent the whole night assuming correctly that, if you yell at Head Office, he's going to tell Satan that you're fair game.

Aziraphale doesn't want to fall. He doesn't want to be a demon-- not because he thinks of them as lesser beings because he doesn't think of them that way. Because being a demon is a terrible existence and Aziraphale would rather not have his soul be owned for all eternity by his partner's assailant who is also, literally, The Devil. He's a hard pass on that and had a plan to have Crowley help him avoid it.

Satan and other events made sure that he and Crowley couldn't communicate what they were thinking and feeling to one another openly from the time that Crowley left the bookshop with The Whickbers through the end of S2. If they had been able to and if Crowley had any idea what was truly going on, things would have been very different. The story is Aziraphale's fall, though, so it has to be bad for now to improve in S3.

Because it's Satan at the door with the coffee, he uses Crowley to identify him as The Metatron to everyone else and, so, has convinced Crowley that he *is* The Metatron and that Satan is nowhere in sight. Crowley doesn't see Aziraphale's fall coming, as can be the case with many people-- even those who know of the mental health challenges of those close to them.

Crowley thinks that the biggest threat to Aziraphale in The Final 15 is The Book of Life-- and, I suppose, in a symbolic way, it is.

The Book of Life-- in the way that Crowley thinks it exists-- is not real. It's his and Beez's anxieties from when they were angels manifested as a ghost story to tell more impressionable angels. Yet, as a concept? It kind of is sort of exactly what Aziraphale goes through in S2. He feels erased into non-existence by Heaven already and he's fighting for his life.

Right, so, a hundred years ago lol, I mentioned that Muriel is key to this idea. Let's look at how their presence is highlighting Aziraphale's issues and ushering him closer to death/falling.

While two angels with memory issues show up at Aziraphale's door in S2, Gabriel is a tale of hope while Muriel is a cautionary tale.

If your memories are "all your you"-- your sense of self, formed through your history-- then, while Gabriel was preserved in The Fly, the example of what can happen without one?

The horror show of a total and complete, catastrophic loss of a sense of self? So... death?

That's Muriel.

There is an angel named Muriel in some Western Christian traditions who becomes a figure called The Abaddon, which is The Angel of Death. The Abaddon factors into different takes on Revelations and apocryphal Biblical stuff. There are several different ideas on who The Abaddon is, though my understanding is that their role as The Angel of Death who brings souls to their final judgement is pretty universal throughout.

In some traditions, The Abaddon is seen as the antichrist. In others, it's Satan. In S1, Good Omens played around with some characters seeing the role of The Abaddon in these ways during Armageddon: Round One through how the Satanic nuns referred to the antichrist baby and Satan as "The Angel of The Bottomless Pit", which is the descriptive phrase given to The Abaddon in multiple different religious writings.

In other religious traditions, though, The Abaddon is thought to be an angel of Heaven or a trio of angels of Heaven. It's these ideas that I think Good Omens is playing with in S2 with, I feel, the heavier emphasis on the true Abaddon being the one most frequently referred to that way-- Muriel. Also supporting the idea of Muriel as Death is that there is also that a character in Salinger's "A Perfect Day for Bananafish" with that name. Muriel is the one set to inherit the main character's wealth and property after he kills himself at the end of the story.

So, how is our lovebug Muriel The Angel of Death?!

For that, we have to look at what a fall is.

Consider that The Metatron can tell Satan that an angel is fair game but, in order for that angel to actually fall to Hell, they have to fail to resist Satan's temptation. What the show is subtly saying is that every angel who is a demon is not just an angel who got caught out saying or doing something that threatened The Metatron's power but, also, an angel who was also already falling into despair and, so, couldn't resist Satan when he came to claim their soul.

The literal fall that happens-- the "freestyle dive into a pit of boiling sulphur", as Crowley called it-- is a symbolic thing that happens after an angel has been unable to resist Satan and, so, is now considered by Heaven and Hell to be a demon.

If you consider that the way the literal fall has been described-- going off a cliff; the parallels to Gabriel nearly jumping out a window-- all of these are images of ways that people sometimes kill themselves. Heaven and Hell come at angels and demons from a place of abuse that pushes them towards suicide. Even in S1, it wasn't straight out murder that Crowley and Aziraphale faced-- they were both forced into what, to Heaven and Hell, would have seen as committing forms of suicide. Crowley getting into a bath of holy water; Aziraphale stepping into hellfire.

So, we're saying that the physical fall happens after an angel has already fallen, and that, in order to fall to Hell, an angel has to have already first fallen into despair.

If the show wants Aziraphale to fall in the Heaven/Hell sense of it, he has to have a mental health breakdown and I'm reminded that the opening credits of this show are Crowley and Aziraphale walking the Earth with all of their history layering up behind them and following along with them and then they go up and up and up on a track in S2 and stop just prior to?

Falling off the edge. The literal fall is what we've stopped just short of but, all along so far, we've been watching the fall in progress build.

The reason why we've never been "shown a fall" on Good Omens is actually because the whole story to date is Aziraphale's fall. It doesn't even really start with S2-- it started long, long ago. It also, though, really kicked into gear just prior to the start of S2, as is noted a bit in this moment here:

Nina asks if everything being weird started the prior week when the power went out and Aziraphale replies:

Trauma is like that. It can be things that happened in your metaphorical 2500 BC that are coming back to bite you in your 2023 AD. It's cumulative. It builds and pushes. You can go and go and go and then, one day, your power just goes out. Your energy to fight is just gone and a storm is brewing. A series of events can push someone who is in an already vulnerable mental health state towards a full on fall into despair and that is what I think S2 is fundamentally about.

S2 is a suicide narrative. Our Clarence Aziraphale is going a bit George Bailey. Even as, on the one hand, he's taking big steps forward to claim more of the life he wants, it's the underlying trauma that he hasn't yet been able to fully deal with that is making him also, at the same time, begin to quietly wonder if those around him would be better off if he were not in their lives.

This is why the most dangerous character in S2 is not Satan or The Metatron.

It is, quietly, Muriel.

How so?

Because when people begin to have more frequent suicidal thoughts, their reasons for living that usually keep them going begin to change to being more of a list of obstacles that are preventing them from death. As a person falls into depression to a point that they begin to feel like maybe everyone around them would be better off if they weren't there, they begin in their minds to try to "solve" the problems that are keeping them from dying. They try-- not always super-consciously-- to set things up in such a way so as to convince themselves that their ties to the Earth will be neatly resolved with minimal bother for anyone else and, more importantly, that all their loved ones will be set up to be fine without them.

People in despair can-- and will-- come up with what are, objectively, absolutely bonkers rationales because, ultimately, they want coffee but they are in such despair that they thinking about ordering death.

Muriel's arrival means that Aziraphale then basically has a solution to every obstacle in his mind in such a way that he clears a path straight to taking his life. They help solve two of his "obstacles": Crowley and the problem of the bookshop.

Muriel is dangerous because they show up at the door with the same curious, upbeat, enthusiastic personality and sense of wonder at the magic of the world that Crowley both loves in Aziraphale and needs in his life.

Muriel is also who can take the bookshop. They're an angel who needs an escape and who loves books and Earth. They're perfect for it. Aziraphale is also horrified to realize that Muriel doesn't recognize him and what the implications of that are and he feels guilty about not having saved them somehow. They begin to represent his self-determined failures and giving them the shop would be, in his mind, making some of that right.

To Aziraphale, Muriel is the cheer and hope that Crowley needs in his life and they've taken to each other like ducks to water, which is then also coming after Aziraphale has subtly been pairing up his partner with the also-immortal-and-traumatized archangel with whom Crowley has much in common and whom we are told in S2 that Aziraphale knows that Crowley finds attractive.

Shax pops up throughout to help show some of Aziraphale's dark thoughts about himself.

What are you, Aziraphale? Crowley's emotional support angel? The one who went native? Do you need more big, human meals, Aziraphale?

The comments in Edinburgh that are not really about the car. It's really more like Aziraphale calling himself "an old piece of junk" and thinking Crowley deserves the chance to get an upgrade to someone better. Gabriel's good-looking and has been through much of the same as Crowley. Muriel is upbeat and makes Crowley smile. Crowley having friends who are supernatural is a great thing but, under the surface, it's also leading Aziraphale to create an inner narrative where he's telling himself that he's replaceable in parts by Gabriel and Muriel and that he wouldn't be leaving Crowley alone if he were to take his own life.

Aziraphale is telling himself that maybe the best way to love Crowley is to make it so that Crowley doesn't have to deal with him.

What did Crowley say about his stars once? The first time they met?

Six thousand years-- that's nothing.

Engine won't even have properly warmed up by then.

Crowley's borderline-immortal. He'll live forever. Six thousand years is a blink of the eye to them. He'll get over me, Aziraphale is telling himself, and find someone worth spending eternity with.

Aziraphale didn't see a path towards death until Muriel's arrival because he didn't fully have a solution to the bookshop and Crowley. That's what makes that adorable moppet of an angel the deadliest character in S2.

The reason why Muriel leapfrogs over every other character and makes it down to the last, pivotal minutes of Crowley and Aziraphale's story in The Final 15-- in a part of the story where even Gabriel is gone-- is because Muriel is death.

It's because this is all about whether or not Aziraphale is going to take the freedom of coffee from Mr. Six Shots of Espresso and live or whether he's going to take the false freedom of the lies he's telling himself from Satan and die.

Is he going to try to take his own life or is he going to find a way through this time, as he has before?

"It's just you and me, Aziraphale." What a statement that is.

It's both true and a complete lie.

Crowley and Muriel are both still in the room when Satan says that so, objectively, it's not really just him and Aziraphale... except that he is controlling Muriel and Crowley in different ways. In that way, it really is only Satan and Aziraphale left by this point. It's down, by that point, to just whether or not Aziraphale is going to live and since Satan is here for him, it's not looking great.

Satan is the embodiment of Aziraphale's life or death choice here and that choice, in many ways, is the only two other beings left in the shop at that point.

It's Crowley or Muriel. It's life or death.

Satan also as Aziraphale's darkest thoughts, really... as Aziraphale's internal dialogue playing out.

What about my bookshop? he asks himself.

Really: What about my life?

Muriel, replies Satan... replies the darkness... replies Aziraphale to himself.

You could entrust it to Muriel.

They need an escape. You'd be doing them a great favor. You'd be sacrificing yourself for them and redeeming yourself for failing to save them. It'd make what you're thinking of doing noble, actually. It'd make it okay. It'd make you a good person.

Aziraphale struggles, right? He almost doesn't do this. He almost says he thinks he's making a mistake because he knows he is. It's just that his every conflict has come up all at once and overwhelmed him.

Even still, the darkness has him pretty solidly-- but not completely-- until this moment right here:

Aziraphale is no fool and he's questioned the idea that this is The Metatron; he's actually trying to tell Crowley that he thinks it's Satan for much of That Scene in the bookshop and to get Crowley to see it and help him, in case it is. Aziraphale hopes he's wrong, though, because he wants it to be The Metatron because he thinks that is the way to fix things but it's not and he knows it, deep down. He doubles down because he's embarrassed, because he feels foolish and afraid and like he has nothing to offer Crowley without the power he thinks he lacks.

Satan's temptation, though, ultimately works because of the final of the death by a thousand cuts here in the whole "Second Coming" moment.

After Satan gets Aziraphale to leave the shop with him to head to Heaven, he, as The Metatron, flatters Aziraphale a bit. He says the things that Aziraphale has always wanted someone in Heaven to say to him. He tells Aziraphale he's needed and that they specifically need and appreciate who he is-- an angel who knows how things are done on Earth. It's validating who Aziraphale is and who is he proud of being in the way that Aziraphale has always wished would happen.

Aziraphale is hurting so much that he starts to wonder if maybe he was wrong about all of this. He was pretty sure before but, maybe, just maybe, he was wrong and he wants to be wrong because then it means maybe that he'd know who he is. Maybe it would mean he would no longer have to be an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can because Heaven would be finally starting to see the light.

Maybe this isn't Satan. Maybe it really is The Metatron. Maybe all of this is real. Maybe he can go to Heaven and take this job and really have the power to protect Crowley and they won't have to be afraid anymore.

Then, Satan drops the bomb. He fires the killshot.

He lets Aziraphale hear him say "we call it 'The Second Coming'" while pretending he didn't mean for Aziraphale to hear it.

This is the moment that Aziraphale knows it was all a lie.

He knows for sure who that is now. He has gone from being 98% sure to a full 100%. He knows that it's not The Metatron but Satan holding open the elevator.

Satan had to tell him, as it's the only thing Satan has to do in some form at the end-- because it has to be Aziraphale's choice. Satan sure as fuck doesn't have to be fair about it-- and he definitely wasn't-- but it's at this moment that Aziraphale knows with absolute certainty that there isn't a job offer.

How could there be if The Second Coming is on the table? They'll never put Aziraphale in charge of Heaven with Armageddon as the agenda. He's the angel who stopped it the last time. It means that Aziraphale knows for sure that, if he gets into the elevator, he's effectively killing himself, because this is all to entrap and kill him, not to promote him.

Satan sets it up so that the final things Aziraphale is thinking about when he makes the choice are that there is no chance that Heaven will ever improve and that they're going to do Armageddon again and just keep doing it until it happens and it's all hopeless and Aziraphale will never have the power to protect Crowley and they're going to just keep living this nightmare forever and he's been doing this for thousands of years and he can't take it anymore.

People who are suicidal are stuck in cycles of their lives they feel they can't get out of and that's exactly what Aziraphale is reminded of in the moment before he gets into the elevator.

He doesn't want death-- he wants coffee.

He wants Crowley, standing appropriately in front of Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, with the coffee art and the blues and greens of Earth all around him. The canopy plants in the backseat. This is what Aziraphale wants but he just doesn't know how to get there anymore and the darkness wins out. The villains always win a battle at this part of the story or else there's no plot left going forward and there is a forward because it's Aziraphale. There are ways back from this but that's for S3.

Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, as we know, is substituting the word coffee for the word liberty in the original quote and that's exactly what happens in Aziraphale's decision to get into the elevator. The truth is revealed-- there is no job, which makes him feel like there is no way to ever be free while living. He's exhausted by fighting the same battles, over and over, with no way to escape in sight, and takes what he thinks is the freedom of not suffering anymore.

He chooses the false freedom of death over the true freedom of living-- Satan's coffee over Mr. Six Shots of Espresso in a Big Cup-- because Aziraphale loves that espresso more than anything but he struggles to love himself. He thinks, in that moment of despair, that the best way to love Crowley is to set him free by leaving life.

It's the Job minisode foreshadowing all of it and going back to the start of his story for the end.

It's nothing important, Aziraphale, don't worry...

Just your kids, your house, your businesses, your money, your neighbors, your street, your car, your books, your friends, your community, your Earth and the love of your life.

Just all the love and magic of the world.

Just all your you. Just your life...

When the first shot of the season was the skies sweeping down towards the front of the shop door... and the final shot of the shop in S2 is The Angel of Death-- Muriel-- entering it alone, claiming it and closing the door? When the light goes off in the bookshop window?

When Aziraphale-- after running around with a paralleling clipboard for half an episode-- leaves a note on the dash for his wife, like International Express Delivery Dude did in S1? When his "I love you, Maud" is the car playing Crowley "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square"? That's when we can see why Death appeared to Aziraphale at the end of S1 and has been headed his way since.

Satan's temptation, yes, but executed with the help of The Angel of Death, who helped push Aziraphale into the lift with The Devil and not towards Crowley and The Bentley, where Aziraphale's love has always been willing to give him a lift, anywhere he wants to go.

In a show where people are symbolically what they profess that it is that they do-- midwifery/cobblering, conjuring, "seamstressing" and so on... all of those things are positive. They're about helping others and loving the world. With that in mind?

Go back and look at Muriel's arrival at the bookshop again...

What is adorable is, also, a fucking horror movie of a declaration:

Muriel is a human police officer.

Friends... that's Death.

Muriel is the only one with a horrible self-declared profession. They're not helping birth ideas and babies and art and mending everyone's pain. They're not a working, professional magician helping to develop the street. They're not a healing seamstress. They don't sell old films and records and books. They don't feed anyone at their restaurant or sell musical instruments to nourish their lives. They aren't the best guy on the block-- Mr. Brown and his World of Carpets, giving people what they need to outfit a life of their own. They're the not a member of The Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Traders Association-- like their paralleling Jim becomes as he begins to regain the will to live.

Crowley is worried about caring for Gabriel being too much for Aziraphale but it's really Muriel that is a walking trigger for him.

Gabriel is a character people think is a villain who is really a lovebug; Muriel is a character people think is a lovebug but who is, symbolically, the worst possible thing to ever show up on your doorstep.

Gabriel is saying books are keen and hot chocolate is amazing and live, live, live, live, Aziraphale...

He's the part of Aziraphale's mind that is trying to save himself while Muriel is the part that is luring him towards death.

Muriel is saying the best part of a cupperty is to look at it, Aziraphale.

It's not for you. You're an angel. You aren't supposed to want to live your own life. You aren't supposed to have wants and needs at all. Even if you go into that back room to be with Crowley alone and try to shut me out, I will break down the door and come after both of you before too long is up.

Muriel is cosplaying Earth's most invasive and violent profession and they're so sweet about it that it tends to bury the eeriness of their arrival. In Muriel, Aziraphale is confronted with his paralyzing perfectionism, his negative self-worth, his rampant imposter syndrome, and his excessive self-sacrificing-- all at once.

All his negative feelings are here at the door in the form of this fun house mirror version of himself-- a cheery and also clinically depressed angel, who is actually cosplaying humanity the way Aziraphale always feels like he is, even if he knows at the core that he's every bit as human as the billions on Earth.

The world is for the professional conjurers, for the humans, for everyone but Aziraphale, in his mind. He is supposed to be above needing any of it. He is supposed to never be angry, anxious, tired, depressed, hungry. He isn't supposed to need the home and books and music and food and sex and magic that he lives for. This angel isn't supposed to be a member of The Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Traders Association but he founded the street, let alone the group, and he'll die trying to host a meeting because nothing makes him feel more himself than when he lets himself be a part of the world.

Muriel's presence worsens his depression spiral, which we've seen is what happens when the negative thoughts get to be too much.

In S2, he goes a sherry-and-stomach-settling-drop diet. He doesn't eat the eccles cakes. He doesn't slow down and enjoy much of anything. Part of the joy of the ox rib scene is that Aziraphale isn't really enjoying himself that much in the present in S2 and it's the only thing like it in S2. Aziraphale, in S2, has put himself and his demon on half-rations and talks about his frozen peas to his fellow duck less. He goes back and forth between trying to self-care (Shostakovich and going to the Gabriel statue and brief moments of flirting with Crowley) and self-neglect (the entire rest of the season lol). Mix in too many additional stressors like what S2 had and it goes from the anxious period of fasting in 1967 to the cause for big time alarm that is S2.

Intellectually, Aziraphale knows that mindful human living is prescriptive. He saves Gabriel by starting to teach him what he knows about it. There's always been a little voice whispering at Aziraphale, though, that it might be right for others but that doesn't mean he's supposed to feel or need those things. He should be above it because that, apparently, would make him the good person that he doesn't often believe he is. His feelings aren't even about being an angel in the Heaven sense so much as in the human anxious perfectionist sense, in that he's excessively self-sacrificing because he doesn't fundamentally believe he's a good person.

There's nothing wrong with being as kind and generous to people as you can. It's when you're doing that while also not acknowledging that you are a person with wants and needs at the same time that you can self-sacrifice yourself right off a cliff as a way of trying to convince yourself that you're not a bad person.

You can deny yourself the life you want out of the excuse that it's your purpose only to care for everyone else but it's not really virtuous. It's a form of self-harm.

What hurts so much about S2 is 1941 because the minisode then gives us Crowley and Aziraphale slaying demons left and right. It gives us what a good day looks like in a whole season that is, otherwise, a series of bad days mixed with things that are also not within their control that then lead to the worst, possible ending.

We see, really, how good they are at caring for one another. The kiss scene is made infinitely more painful by us having seen in the 1941 minisode another conversation in the same spot in bookshop when Aziraphale was struggling with these same issues that went so very differently.

Crowley is very good at gently reminding Aziraphale that, not only is he wonderful, but that he's a person, too, and that everyone feels like they are jiggery-pokery sometimes. Everyone struggles with the voices of others and themselves trying to judge them and how that impacts a sense of self. That fighting through that to be able to live and love is, unfortunately, a pretty common experience of being a person.

This is not new for Aziraphale. It's so very old, stirred up hardcore in S2, now that it's been four years since Heaven contacted him. Aziraphale doesn't know that it's because Gabriel is trying to protect him. He thinks he's so inconsequential that Heaven couldn't even be assed to send someone to formally fire him and take the bookshop embassy that, despite being something of an albatross around Aziraphale's neck, he's also really proud of having built.

Aziraphale wants Heaven to fuck off but he also feels embarrassed by the fact that Heaven could fuck off so easily and that he feels like he doesn't have a friend there to speak of after thousands of years. He is ashamed of it needing to be Crowley who gets them a contact for info in Shax because he sees it as more dangerous for Crowley to need to be in contract with the demons and as a failure to protect him-- the thing that's at the core of Satan's temptation at the end of the season. (Also why Crowley is trying not to tell him about Shax taking his job and his conversation with Beez, which is a huge mistake but it's coming from a good place.)

Surely, Aziraphale thinks, if he hasn't fallen and he's still an angel... if he still is one, he's not really sure, as what is a non-working angel?... then, if he were good, there'd be some angel up there who would still be talking to him. He knows Heaven isn't good, exactly, but not all of the angels are terrible. As anyone who has ever had to go no contact with an abusive family knows, the illogical doubts that creep up can make a person think that maybe they're the wrong ones. At your worst, you can wonder: if the whole family thinks you're wrong, are you really right? Aziraphale knows he is right but it gets complicated.

Add to that the stress of worrying that something will happen to Crowley every time he goes out the door (part of Aziraphale's own trauma for millennia, made worse by 1827), and Crowley's PTSD exacerbated by the fire in S1, and Aziraphale's negative self-thoughts are being triggered even worse than usual. He's blaming himself for them not being safe, when that's not fully within his control... which, in Aziraphale's mind, is the whole problem and an example of how he is failing Crowley.

This is all long before Gabriel shows up at the door and the season gets started with a series of events that then worsen Aziraphale's state of mind. By the time Muriel shows up at the door, these negative kinds of thoughts out in full force in Aziraphale and Muriel represents them.

Muriel might be cute as a button and, as a character in their own right, being used left and right by Heaven, but it doesn't change the fact that Muriel is, symbolically, a mashup of the human and supernatural cops trying to kill them that Crowley and Aziraphale have been outrunning their whole lives.

The Angel of Death is a cop because of course they are, right? What other group of people has been existing to entrap, imprison, torture and kill people for eons?

From the book: If you want to imagine the future, imagine a boy and his dog and his friends. And a summer that never ends.

S1 was summer. It was the nightingales.

S2 is the lingering doom of preparations for Christmas lights. It's the days getting shorter and colder. The nightingales have flown to warmer climates. Because this is Good Omens so the season of Aziraphale's fall is set in the season of... well, the fall.

The good news is that, both literally and metaphorically?

Summer is always just around the corner.

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pedroslittlelady · 1 year ago

Text

Just You & Me, Darlin'

joel miller x f!reader (18+)

A/N: OMG Okay, I'm actually doing this! I'm posting something for the first time in over 4 years and I'm super nervous. Pedro Pascal just has me by the titties, and so do all of you wonderful writers and artists I've been so inspired by, so here is my little contribution 🫣💕

You can also read this on my ao3 if you prefer 😊

summary: When Tommy returns to the QZ without you, Joel is both terrified and furious but he’s determined to get you back safe no matter what.

tags/warnings: 18+ Explicit | Minors Do Not Interact Please! no use of y/n, boston qz, fluff, hurt/comfort, mention of suicidal thoughts, slight exhibitionism, explicit smut, unprotected piv, no description of female reader, other than joel can pick you up and kinda implied age gap, squirting, emotional sex, unbeta'd, use of pet names (sweetheart, baby, darlin', baby girl). oh and you're both super in love so :) I think that's it.

word count: 5.9k

Joel’s heart was fluttering within his chest, nerves and excitement flooding him as he made his way up the steps of his apartment building. If all had gone well, you were due back from the week-long smuggling run outside of the QZ today, and he had been stuck on work duty for most of it.

He hadn’t been able to go with you since someone had needed to stay back and protect their store of goods and ration cards from being stolen in their absence, they’d learned this the hard way.

And in his mind he’d drawn the short straw.

Joel would much rather be out there with you than stuck here wondering if you were okay. Here, he was unable to do anything if something went wrong but he knew you, the little hell-raiser that you were could definitely handle yourself.

The both of you had agreed when you first started sleeping together that it shouldn’t mess with the business, it gave you all a more comfortable life in the QZ than most got to have after all.

Even after falling hard for one another following the sharing of your past within whispered cuddles post sex, you both still tried to keep the business professional and that meant trusting one another to watch your own and your partners’ backs.

As he entered his apartment he was surprised to see Tommy sitting on his couch with his head in his hands.

Joel’s stomach dropped at the sight, he already knew something was wrong. Heart breaking into a gallop against his sternum he quickly scanned the apartment, the open layout giving him a view of the whole room and you were nowhere in sight.

Joel's hands tightened into fists, his jaw tensing in anger and fear as he focused his intense gaze on his little brother who was now worrying his lip.

“Where is she,” Joel stated more than questioned in his deep southern timbre, his voice thick with emotion. Anger, fear, anguish and dread were all suddenly clogging up his throat. He swallowed to keep it contained, needing to keep his head on straight right now.

“I don’t know brother,” Tommy responded, guilt and slight fear painted his features as he looked up at his older brother.

“The hell do you mean you don’t know?” Joel growled as he prowled closer to his brother who quickly stood from his slumped position. “I trusted you to watch her back, to keep her safe for me!” Joel couldn’t control himself, the emotions from the thought of losing you, of never seeing you again were too much to handle and he grabbed his brother by the neck of his jacket and shook him.

“The deal went bad! Me and Tess got separated from her!” Tommy quickly explained, his hands gripping onto Joel's shaking wrists. “We tried to find her but… shit man, things are more fucked up out there than ever. We were hoping she’d made it back here.”

Joel pushed his brother away from him, afraid he would start swinging. Rage and fear consumed him, tightening his heaving chest as he ran his hands through his greying hair. He quickly stalked over to his weapons stash beneath the floorboards while vile images of you being scared and hurt, being taken by sex traffickers and all manner of other atrocities he’d seen and heard about over all his years surviving in this hell were flooding his mind.

If it was the last thing he did, he’d find you himself and bring you home. The thought of never finding you was unspeakable and he quickly pushed that horrible scenario out of his mind. But then another took its ugly place as he quickly grabbed his go bag; what if he found you dead or dying?

Well that would be the end, wouldn’t it?

He paused before looking at his little brother, standing before him paler than he’d seen him in a long time. Exhaustion was dragging Tommy down and Joel knew that he and Tess had done the best they could to find you; they loved you too.

“I’ll find her and bring her back,” Joel stated.

“I’ll come with-”

“No… thank you, but no. You're exhausted, you’ll just slow me down. If I don’t come back… then I…,” Joel trailed off as he watched anguish and fear become apparent on his little brother's face.

“Joel. Don’t. Please, brother,” Tommy begged, already knowing where Joel’s head was at.

“I can’t…” Joel felt his voice break as tears flooded his vision, blurring the image of his baby brother walking towards him.

Next thing Joel knew, his brother's arms were around him and Joel let himself feel the rare embrace for just a moment. He and his brother had never been the most affectionate with each other even before the outbreak, so the fact his brother was hugging him so tightly told him Tommy knew exactly what you meant to him. How could he not, with how blatant the two of you were with your lovesick need for each other. You had become his whole world, a quick spiral into passionate need that seemed to drive the two of you from the very moment you became one when he took you on that dirty warehouse floor three years earlier.

His head dipped to Tommy’s shoulder as silent tears rolled down his cheeks and into his patchy beard, into that place where you always kissed him, as if that spot had been made just for you. A place to kiss and lick and nibble like you loved to do when you both were intimate, which was basically whenever you were in the same room as one another, everyone else be damned.

Would Joel ever feel that again? Had you both made all the memories together that you ever would? The last time he saw you flashed in his mind, replacing the ugly panicked images from before. You’d smiled up at him, arms wrapped around one another, foreheads pressed together as you whispered your ‘see you laters’ - never ‘goodbyes’ - to each other, while Tess and Tommy looked on and rolled their eyes in annoyance at your overt pda.

The Joel of before had never been one for public displays of affection, to the point where one woman had broken things off with him because she’d said he was cold, that he didn’t care enough about her. He’d realised later on that she had probably been right. More conscious of how much affection he was giving in front of others than he should have been.

Now though, with you these last few years? Joel didn’t give a single fuck what people thought of how he held your hand, kissed you, sat you on his lap as he made deals with all kinds of people. He loved when you’d do the same, when you would kiss him in that spot that was surely made purely for your mouth while you rolled your hips against his hardening cock. The greedy eyes of lowlifes watching on in pure jealousy of how unashamed you were with showing everyone how wanton you could get for him. His precious little hell-raiser.

Shit, he’d fucked you outside before and hadn’t cared who’d heard. It had actually turned him on to know the residents had heard your desperate and lustful cries as you let him take you from behind in an alleyway between two apartment buildings. Anyone could’ve looked out and seen how Joel Miller got to have you be his, the most vicious beauty in all of Boston, submitting to him, belonging to him.

Joel quickly pulled away from Tommy before he got too emotional about how this day had turned into a fucking real life nightmare.

As he strode towards his apartment door with his go bag on his back and his weapons tucked away on his person, he rubbed the tears from his eyes and face. He couldn’t look back at Tommy so he roughly pulled open the door and walked out with a quickly uttered, “see you brother.”

While descending to street level Joel struggled to get his emotions under control. It had been a long time since he had cried, since he had felt this scared and helpless, but he pushed through and began to formulate a plan on how he would get out of the QZ through a smuggler tunnel they had created two years ago. Then he would find you so he could bring you home, safe and sound.

There was no other option he would let himself consider from here on out, he needed to focus on his current mission.

Joel steeled himself as he walked out of the apartment building and turned right to head to the closest smuggling route out of the QZ. As he looked up to assess his surroundings he was stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of you standing in front of him.

His eyes widened in shock as you stood before him, a shaky vulnerable look on your pretty as sin face. Joel choked on your name in disbelief and before he knew it his hands were grasping your cheeks and his lips were crushing against yours in a desperate kiss.

He pulled away from your tight embrace to quickly gasp, “What the hell happened, baby?” Before he kissed you again and again and again. So relieved to feel you alive and whole in his arms once more.

But then worry clouded his mind; the look on your face as you saw him notice you replayed in his mind.

Joel once again pulled away from the desperate kisses you both were sharing to truly look into your wide teary eyes.

“Are… are you okay, sweetheart? Are you hurt? Let me see you,” Joel pleaded in a vulnerable whisper. He reluctantly pulled further away so he could assess you until you spoke for the first time since your reunion.

“I’m okay Joel, baby. I’m okay I promise!” You gasped as Joel began to pull up your sleeves and the hem of your shirt to see your slightly bruised and cut skin, clearly searching for a fatal wound like a bite that he thankfully would not find.

“Joel!” You shouted to get his attention, uncaring of the passers-by on the busy street taking notice of your desperate interaction.

Joel stopped his searching as you placed your hands on his cheeks and gave a soft smile when you saw the fear in his eyes recede into a warm relieved look of love that always made your chest flutter in unbelievable happiness, like butterflies bursting with life within you. You had never expected to get to this point with anyone, let alone the cold standoffish brute Joel Miller who had barely seemed to tolerate you the first few weeks after your initial meeting.

To have this big, dangerous, sometimes scary but protective man look at you like you were his whole world was intoxicating. No wonder you could never keep your hands off of him.

It had started after the first time you’d fucked, and that’s all it had been meant to be. A desperate fuck after a near death experience, both of you alone and thankful to be alive. You had exchanged no words but a heady look and before you’d known what was happening he was kissing into your mouth before pinning you onto the hard dirty floor and fucking you silly.

You knew he’d been sleeping with Tess at the time, although it wasn’t serious, and you had slipped into Tommy’s bed once or twice, but for years you had respected Joel’s leadership and strength, and of course enjoyed admiring how handsome he really was, but you both had never been particularly close, until then.

After, you had both agreed it wouldn’t happen again. You reluctantly agreed with him even though your legs had felt like jelly after the best orgasms you’d ever been given, having never before been fucked like Joel Miller liked to fuck.

It happened again of course, the very next night when you took a chance and slipped into his room and cot. He hadn’t said a thing against it, only a cocky, “can’t get enough huh, hell-raiser?”

After you sucked him to full hardness he’d let you ride him as fast or slow as you wanted while he just watched you. In the wake of your first orgasm Joel had snapped and took control once more by putting you on your back and practically folding you in half. He’d fucked you so hard you’d screamed your pleasure, so loud you had only realised afterward that Tommy and Tess must have been 100% aware of what was happening. But you’d come so hard you’d squirted all over Joel and made a complete mess, but you had seen in Joel’s eyes how much he’d absolutely loved it.

There was no talk of it never happening again after that, only an acknowledgement that business came first. A few months into your arrangement he began cuddling you after sex, asking you not to leave his bed in the sweetest whisper against the back of your head. You had agreed, threading your fingers through his and nodding with a simple, “yes Joel.”

And you hadn’t left, you both barely let the other out of your lovesick sight as you basically moved in with him. Tess and Tommy quickly moved out so they didn’t have to listen to the both of you ‘fucking every goddamn day.’

“I’m fine baby, I promise. Okay?” You kissed Joel softly bringing you back to the present, his arms tightening around you.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if… fuck, I thought you were-” Joel was crushing you against him, lips brushing yours as he spoke. A tremble was in his voice, one you’ve come to know more over the years as he opened up to you about things from his past.

“I’m right here darlin’, right where I’m supposed to be,” you gently spoke while running your hands through his salt and pepper curls. The action always calmed him down.

“I love you so goddamn much, hell-raiser.” Joel smiled against your lips before kissing you again. You chuckled, feeling tears gather in your eyes at the silly pet name he’d given you after your first chaotic introduction years ago which involved you wielding a couple molotov cocktails. The first of many pet names he graced you with, but definitely your favourite.

“I love you too, big guy.”

Your back gently hit the apartment building as Joel increased the pressure of your kisses, a desperation taking over you both as the feeling of being reunited after a close call washed over you once again.

Joel hiked your leg up and ground his hardened cock against your rapidly soaking pussy making you gasp at the sting of pain the suddenness of your arousal wrought as it travelled deep into your rapidly warming core.

“Joel,” you panted into his mouth as he licked at your tongue before sucking it into his mouth with a growl of need you felt emanating from his belly which was pressed tight against yours.

“Fuck, need inside your tight little cunt right now, darlin’,” Joel rumbled before he hastily began to undo your jeans, his lips carving a wet path across your cheek and down your tilting neck. He bit you quick and hard there, marking you; claiming you. You gasped, your arousal seeping from your desperately empty channel and trickling into your panties as you tilted your hips against his rock hard cock.

Joel slipped his thick fingers into your wet slit making you moan into his mouth.

“Get a room,” you heard someone mutter as they walked past. Joel growled before pulling away to glare fiercely at the man who suddenly blanched before quickly scurrying away at the sight of Joel hovering over you with a murderous look in his eyes.

You giggled at the interaction, drawing his attention back to you, his eyes softening at your mischievous smirk.

“Take me to bed, big guy. Remind me who I belong to,” you murmured before biting your lower lip in anticipation as Joel's eyes turned blacker than the deepest cavern within the fathomless ocean.

He grabbed you by the back of the neck and began to steer you back into the apartment building and up the stairs. You could feel his eyes on your ass before a slap landed there making you squeak excitedly. “Hurry the fuck up, darlin’,” Joel growled with a squeeze to your right cheek making you skip up the stairs quicker, panties practically drenched now.

The next second he was pushing open your apartment door, throwing off his bag and flipping you around to face him so he could kiss you hungrily once more. His thick tongue probed every part of your mouth, overwhelming you. You whimpered, your hands caressing through his hair to scratch gently at his scalp.

His grip on your thighs suddenly let you know what he was about to do and you braced your hands on his broad shoulders as he quickly hoisted you up, your legs wrapping around his hips. You both groaned and panted into one another's mouth at the feel of being pressed together.

You stilled when you heard the clearing of a throat. Joel groaned in annoyance as your lips separated wetly.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” Tommy said before covering a slight laugh with a cough, Joel glowered. “But I’m really glad you're okay, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate it.” You smiled, so glad to see him safe and sound too. You told him this and questioned where Tess was and he informed you that she was just fine also.

“I just wanted to say-” Tommy started to speak.

“Enough said,” Joel growled. “Talk later. We're busy, brother.” Joel raised his brows clearly unabashed at being caught in this position by his baby brother.

“Jeez, alright lover boy-” Tommy rolled his eyes.

“I swear to God Tommy if you don’t get the fuck out of here now I’ll-”

“Okay okay! We’ll catch up later, Christ.” Tommy shook his head but you could see he wasn’t truly annoyed by the relieved look on his face.

As Tommy made his way to the door, a smirk was painted on his handsome face. Joel just pierced him with a frustrated and grumpy glare, you couldn’t help but snort softly while still being held up in his strong arms.

“See you later Tommy, and tell Tess thanks as well when you see her,” you quickly uttered before you forgot all about Tess and Tommy in just a few seconds.

“Will do, sweetheart. See you later. You too, Romeo.” Tommy laughed before darting out the door as fast as he could once he’d heard Joel’s growl of annoyance.

“C’mon baby,” you murmured in his ear before sucking the lobe into your mouth bringing his attention back to you, his eyes softening once more. “Need to feel your big cock inside me, I feel so empty.” You pouted playfully even though you could still feel some of the adrenaline and fear from your near miss swarming inside you.

You had very nearly not made it home to him and that thought made your heart jump and your hold on your lover tighten. You didn’t know if you could hold back on the avalanche of feeling you knew was headed your way.

“Poor baby,” Joel responded as he carried you to your bed and laid you down, his back not being able to hold you up for much longer, not if he was going to fuck you like you both needed after today. “Don’t you worry darlin’, I got you.”

Joel stood before you and began to remove the various weapons from his body, his dark intense gaze never leaving you as you began to writhe in need.

“Hurry Joel,” you whimpered, a desperation taking over now that you weren’t in his arms anymore. You felt tears gather in your eyes at just how lucky you were to be back here with him, safe and sound. You couldn’t hold back a hiccupping sob threatening to escape you.

Joel took notice and quickly hovered over you, one hand on your hip, the other palming your cheek and wiping a tear away. “You're okay now, baby. I got you.” He kissed your forehead and you could hear him inhale your scent as he did.

“Joel.” You murmured, feeling a little overwhelmed. You needed to release these emotions, and Joel was the best at giving you just what you needed, what you both needed.

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” Joel murmured, his own gaze tear filled meeting yours before he pressed his lips to yours for a desperate kiss. You struggled to keep up with his kisses at first but then he was scraping his teeth down your jaw and sucking on your neck.

You bucked your hips up against him, his leg slipping between yours so you could grind on him. You whimpered, needing his bare skin to be slick against yours as you once again fitted together so perfectly.

You needed the intimacy and the vulnerability of being beneath his broad form as he fucked you deep and hard, imprinting himself within you forever.

As if Joel had read your mind, he pulled back from nuzzling between your breasts, his big strong hands grasped the collar of your shirt and ripped it down the middle in one go.

You gasped at the action, at the grimace of need on his face as he began to manhandle you in a desperate need to get you naked beneath him. You unhooked your bra as he roughly pulled down your jeans and panties in one go, snarling in annoyance when your boots hampered his mission.

As soon as you were bare Joel was back on the bed and spreading your legs up and wide so he could see your perfectly soaked little cunt fluttering needily around nothing. Fuckin’ Heaven right there, he thought to himself as he dragged his eyes up your heaving belly and chest to see you biting your lip, small hands fisting the sheets beneath you.

“Please Joel, want you naked against me,” you practically begged, pupils blown out, eyes still glistening. He knew from your reaction something had scared you, probably a moment of terror in thinking you weren’t going to make it back to him in one piece or at all. The idea of that being a very real possibility that could have happened shook him to his core and he quickly tore off his clothes, not wanting to be away from your touch for longer than necessary.

He began to kiss every scrape and bruise as he made his way up your chest. Soon his eyes were looking deep into your soft gaze, your arms and legs wrapping around him and he knew he was finally home. He brushed his nose along yours, both his hands tunnelling into your pretty hair as he gazed down at you.

“You and me, darlin’, that’s all I need. Just you, I fuckin’ love you, you drive me goddamn insane with it, you know that?” His gaze was soft but intense, his words rumbled out of his pouty lips.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your own hands rubbing his back soothingly before sliding up his neck and into his hair. “But I feel the same.”

“Don’t be sorry, darlin’. You’re the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time. Just scares the hell outta me,” he nearly choked on his words before burying his face into the sexy slope of your neck, inhaling your heavenly scent. “Can’t lose you, baby.”

“I’m right here, not losing me, Joel,” you responded softly before kissing his scarred temple.

Joel slowly lowered his hips as he lifted his head to kiss you, his weeping cock covering your pussy, soaking him even further. Normally Joel would prepare you, stretch you with his thick fingers and make you come on his tongue but from the way you were mewling and moving against him he knew you both needed to become one right now. Besides, you had told him plenty of times how you liked the slight pain his cock created when it stretched your little hole open, the girth of him too wide to fit comfortably at first.

You both angled your hips, well versed in the best way to slot together hands free. Your breath hitched when the crown of his twitching cock popped inside you.

“So fuckin’ tight and wet for me, baby girl.”

“Joel,” you whimpered against his lips before your hips pushed against him, sliding more of him within your aching heat.

He stared into your watery eyes as he gripped your hip with a bruising grasp and began to push into your tightness. He loved watching the way your mouth opened into a little ‘o’ shape and the space between your brows creased cutely in pain.

“Takin’ my cock so well, you precious little fuckin’ thing,” Joel growled as he bottomed out causing you to gasp. Your perfect cunt clenching around him was like nothing he’d ever felt before.

Your breasts heaved against his chest as he let you adjust to the stretch of him for a moment. But he had little patience right now, so he soon pulled back making you whimper sweetly and he kissed into your mouth soothingly before he moved his hand to the back of your neck and held it tightly.

Pulling back from the kiss he quickly punched his hips down and forward, slamming deep inside you and causing your body to jolt from the force, his hands holding you steady. You weren’t going anywhere.

The squeak you let out was choked off when he did it again, and again. The soundtrack to your desperate love making became the wet slapping of skin on skin, the gasps of pleasure and the cries of pain as you melded together as one. Sweaty skin sliding against hardened nipples and harsh gasps were shared as he rhythmically pounded you into the mattress

“Joel, Joel, oh God Joel don’t stop!” you pleaded wide eyes staring up at his fervent expression as he gazed down at you.

“Fuck! That’s it baby, take my cock.” Joel grimaced in pleasure.

“Please, baby. Go faster!” You yelped as his hips smacked against you, his heavy balls soaked from your arousal.

He granted your plea, arching his back so he could suck on your tight nipples, hands grasping under and over your shoulders as he began to piston sharply within you, pulling you onto his thick cock.

“Yes yes yes, gonna come,” you suddenly gasped and Joel knew it was true by how your tight little pussy started fluttering around his shaft, sucking him deep.

“Come all over me, baby girl,” he whispered against your parted lips, sweat building between you as you both moved in sync, chasing that beautiful euphoria he always granted you.

You had been feeling it build within you so deeply, you knew you were about to crest that tremendous wave of pleasure you associated with Joel and how he always spoiled you rotten when you made love. It hit deep and sharp, making you arch your back and cry out against his lips as your pussy clutched so tightly to him, never wanting him to stop or leave your most vulnerable place that he always cherished.

It caught your breath as you ascended into ecstasy, all you could do was whimper against his plush lips as you came. His hips stuttered as you tightened, unable to keep up the pace at how tightly you were grasping at him. Nails scraping his back, legs spreading further, toes curling against his thick thighs.

“Good girl, baby,” he practically whimpered as you came around him. “That’s my good girl. Fuck, I love you,” Joel growled while he quickened his pace again, the ache in his lower back completely ignored. He sat up a bit, lifted your legs so they fell over the bend in his elbows before planting his hands on the bed.

You were practically folded in half, completely dazed from that intense orgasm as he manoeuvred you however he liked. You loved when he treated you like his precious little fuck doll.

“Oh my God, baby,” you gasped, just watching as his hulking form rose above you, his dark desperate eyes dragging from your own eyes to your bouncing breasts as he started pumping his cock into you once more. The generous crown of his cock repeatedly hit that amorous spot deep inside you that only Joel could locate.

His stare was fixated on where you were joined together as he continued to thrust, slowing a little to admire it. “Sweet little pussy is creaming all over my dick, fuck!” Joel couldn’t take his eyes away from it, your abused hole flushed with arousal and soaked with your mingling desire. “God damn, baby girl. You can really take some cock, huh?”

All you could do was whimper at the vision he made above you, greedy lustful stare focused on your needy hole stretched around the wide circumference of his wet cock pumping inside you. The broad expanse of his tanned slick shoulders, the strength of his hands as they wrapped his calloused fingers around your hips, angling them perfectly. He sat up, his knees bracketing your ass and you quickly pressed your hands up behind you knowing exactly what was coming. Your heart jumped in your chest, you loved to watch him above you like this; using you, loving you so deeply and harshly.

“Gonna cum so deep inside your cunt, baby girl. Never gonna be rid of me,” Joel growled before rolling his hips into you, knowingly hitting that special place inside you that usually had you squirting all over him.

He never forgot that moment you’d shared with one another. Only your second time together and he had given it to you so good it was probably one of his proudest moments, his ego getting a huge boost that had been well needed at the time.

You had been so shocked and loud, you’d practically screamed at the sensation, shivering so vulnerably beneath him afterward it had stuck deep inside his chest afterward. It had pushed him to coo to you softly at your little whimpers, telling you that you were okay, that you had been so sexy and beautiful for him.

His hips were rolling and thrusting into you making you moan and stare up at him in awe. This man was all fucking yours.

“Mine, Joel. You’re mine.”

“Yeah, baby. All yours, this cock is all yours. And who does this pussy belong to, hmm?” he questioned with a smirk as he stared down into your wide eyes as his hips picked up the pace, you continuing to reciprocate his movements like a well choreographed dance.

“Yours, my pussy’s all yours. No one else's, baby.”

“Good girl,” Joel praised before leaning over you, his pretty lips pressing into yours, widening your mouth and swiping his tongue against yours as your pussy flooded his cock and balls creating a slapping sound that made you whimper and blush.

“Always so fuckin’ wet for me. Ain’t ya, sweetheart,” Joel groaned. “Fuckin’ love you.”

“Love you too, now fill me up, baby. Please!” You gasped against him, your foreheads now pressed against one another, mouths sharing harsh breaths.

You braced against the headboard with one hand while moving the other to his curly hair desperately seeking purchase as your arousal grew once more. Core warming and tightening in an impending orgasm and when he shifted your position so he could press against your clit and urethra with his fingers your stomach jumped, knowing exactly what he wanted from you.

“Oh Joel,” you whined.

“Yeah baby, drench me please,” Joel encouraged and you began to flutter around the precise pumping of his twitching cock within your sensitive walls.

It hit you suddenly, your back arched with a quick scream of pleasure and the overstimulation that you associated with squirting. Joel groaned in pleasure as you burst with feeling.

“Atta fuckin’ girl, baby! That’s it, shit I’m gonna come,” Joel gasped as you soaked him, a vision beneath him, sweat slicked tits bouncing, mouth agape in a shout of intense pleasure and eyes practically rolling into the back of your head.

Joel's hips stuttered, his balls tightening even more as he felt his pleasure travel from deep within his core, up to the swollen tip of his cock. “Fuck, baby,” Joel whimpered into your neck as he began to spurt his come deep into your womb, hips stuttering and grinding against yours with the need to stuff you full of his cum.

“Yes, Joel,” you whimpered as you felt him empty himself within you. You nudged his head as he did, wanting to see his handsome face in pleasure. He lifted and looked down at you, cum still spilling, overflowing you and trickling down your ass. “That’s it, baby. Fill me up good. I want all your cum,” you whispered softly as you gazed up at him. His face was so vulnerable and needy in that moment you couldn’t help but clench around him once more.

His balls had emptied with each ejection of his cum inside you, hips finally stilling as his cock became oversensitized to the stimulation still happening.

“Easy, baby girl. Easy.” Joel chuckled as he fell against you, completely spent before kissing you so softly that your heart jumped. “You think I can go again at my age?”

“You think I can go again after that?” You giggled breathily, completely satisfied. The impending avalanche of emotions purged from you in pleasure by your lover.

“Yeah, baby. Don’t doubt yourself.” Joel rubbed his nose against yours affectionately, a small grin on his face, eyes as soft as chocolate ice-cream.

“Then you don’t doubt yourself either.”

“I know my limits and my back is shot, darlin',” Joel grumbled in annoyance, his softly grinning face turning so grumpily pouty you couldn’t help but melt, you loved that you got to see this side of him that he unveiled to no one else but you. He really was all yours.

“Oh, poor baby,” you whispered to him before nudging him to the side so he could rest flat on the mattress, his softened dick slipping out of you with a flood of his cum which tickled your still trembling thighs. You definitely planned on giving him another back massage as soon as you both got some sleep, he had fucked you so perfectly; hard and loving. He certainly deserved it. “Rest now, we’re together and that’s all that matters.”

Joel sighed as he settled into the admittedly uncomfortable bed, but with you snuggling up against his chest he had no complaints.

“I don’t want you goin’ out there without me anymore, okay? Fuck the business, you’re more important.”

You looked up at him “As long as you don’t go out there without me either, we’re more important,” you agreed with a sigh of relief.

“Just you and me, darlin’. That’s all I need,” Joel assured you.

You snuggled deeper into his strong arms, a warm sense of safety and love blanketing your heart as his arms tightened and his lips kissed the top of your head with a mumbled, “Love you, hell-raiser.”

You kissed his chest before replying, “Love you too, big guy.”

A/N: Thank you to any of you who made it to the end of this, I hope you enjoyed it! Please consider reblogging and/or commenting to help this little story of mine find new readers💕😘

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #clare's stories #pedroslittlelady writes #tw: mention of suicidal thoughts #tlou fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #implied age gap #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction

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m00nkissedlover · 27 days ago

Text

・｡kiss of indifference 🌙

"'cause i have hella feelings for you, i act like i don't fucking care, 'cause i'm so fucking scared"

post water of life! paul atreides x fremen! reader | word count: 2,076 words

summary: paul's recent indifferent attitude towards you causes new sparks to fly~ 🌙

warnings: long intro? before dialogue, slight angst, paul still loves reader while engaged to irulan (previously established relationship), yelling (you two make up in the end!), mild spice (MDNI), heated kissing

note: kinda rushed. first time writing this much, WOO! might be a bit inaccurate, i tried my best. 🫠 enjoy!

paul atreides. the skinny, dark haired, and pale skinned boy you had fallen for. the boy who didn't care about being lisan al ghaib, but who rather hated it. the boy who would immediately shut down his mother's talks of her bene gesserit lore and prophecy, who would instead find solace and comfort in your arms.

this was not him. this was some blue eyed doppelgänger wearing his skin, you were sure of it. the sudden shift in his attitude and overall demeanor after having consumed the "water of life" sent a chill down your spine. obviously, you weren't the only one that noticed. but you were the only one who was concerned about it.

paul was becoming...distant. especially from you. with his duties as the new emperor, it was understandable. even more so, since he'd asked for irulan's hand in marriage. the fact that he'd professed his love for you and then asked for such a thing in almost the same breath broke your heart and crushed your soul. you'd often see paul accompanying the princess to meetings and such. obviously he didn't love her, he never had 'that' look in his eyes when he looked at her. 'that' look being the one he'd have in his eyes as he'd sneak glances at you as you'd pass each other in the hallways of the grand palace or when you'd attend meetings as well to give some freman insight. saying that paul hated this was an understatement. but he had to keep up appearances, attending meetings and staying one step ahead of his enemies.

that was another problem, his enemies. he always had to keep up with his image of being a stern and almost cutthroat leader, which meant showing no weakness, ever. unfortunately, this also meant distancing himself from people he truly cared about: his mother, his unborn baby sister, and worst of all...you. after all, the only reason you were let into palace was by paul's orders. he'd have to force himself not to love you, or at least act like it. your greetings were met with a nod or a silent mumble, or, like most times, nothing at all.

it was late at night, the sound of your ticking clock keeping you awake. no, it was actually your never ending thoughts of none other than paul. you wanted nothing more that to rush out of your room to his, knock on his door, and give him the biggest hug you could give, to run your fingers through his dark brown locks again, to tell him that everything would be okay. you stood up, deciding to take a walk through the palace to clear your mind. as you opened the door, you were met by paul, mid-knock. his hair was a little messy and it seemed like he'd just retired from his study.

you didn't say anything, instead stepping aside to let him come in and closing the door behind him. there was a moment of silence that felt it had lasted a little too long before paul spoke up. "how have you been? you seem to be looking well." paul commented, standing in the middle of your room as you sat on your bed. "yes, i've been fine. and what of you?" he wasn't even looking at you. yes, he was facing you and to anyone else, it looked as though he was staring straight at you. but his mind was obviously elsewhere...he wasn't paying attention to you.

"paul," you said, raising your voice a bit and reaching out to hold his hand. you could see him being pulled out of his state of distraction, your hand squeezing his. "talk to me. this is the first time we've been alone together in weeks. please..." paul could see the pleading in your eyes, a soft sigh leaving him as he sat down next to you. "don't worry about it," he brushed you off, pulling his hand out from your grip. "i simply came to see how you're doing." an obvious lie. "paul, something's bothering you. you can tell me," you began. "[y/n], i'm fine," "but you're not. i can tell it's eating you up inside, the visions, your enemies."

"[y/n]-" he was staring to get irritated, not at you, but at the fact that you were right. it was eating him up, slowly consuming him and making him lose himself more and more each day. "it's why you've been avoiding me, right? you're scared they'll take advantage of your affection towards me-" paul stayed silent, his fingers curling up into fists as he looked at the floor. you grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. "these visions don't define you, paul! this prophecy doesn't define you! you can't just run away from us and face this on your own!"

that was easy for you to say. you didn't have throngs of people either depending on you or praying for your untimely death. you didn't have the weight of the entire universe on your shoulders. "you don't understand-" "i'll try to-!" "YOU CAN'T!" paul yelled, pushing your hands away from his face. you flinched, your eyes going wide as he stood up and ran his hands through his hair. "you can't possibly understand the horrific things i've seen each time i so much as close my eyes. do you know what i see? people dying from starvation. holy wars being waged in my very name. the people i care about with every bone in my living body being slaughtered in front of me! and you," he turned to you pointing an accusing finger at you as if it were a blade. "you sit here and act like you understand me?"

you didn't expect for paul's words to hurt so much. he'd never raised his voice at you, and he'd certainly never yelled at you. you felt like a knife was being twisted into your heart as the boy you loved turned into someone you didn't even recognize. "i'm just trying to comfort you," "well stop! because...because i love and care about you so much, it physically hurts me. i'd be a lost soul if something ever happened to you," you looked at your hands, feeling a whirlwind of emotions as you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. but you refused to cry.

"you should go. i'm sure irulan's looking for you." "you know we sleep in separate rooms-" "still...you don't need unsavory rumors on top of all you have to deal with..." you turned away from paul, using the back of your hand to dab away the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. you felt the bed dip, but didn't turn to look at him. "[y/n], look at me..." you didn't answer, sniffling softly and moving to get up, ready to try your hand at kicking him out once again. a soft yell left your lips as paul's slim fingers wrapped around your wrist and pulled you right back next to him, his face so undoubtedly close to yours. you could smell the pent up emotion on him, a word of protest ready on your tongue.

before you even knew what was happening, paul's lips were on yours. you let your eyes flutter shut, yelping softly into the kiss as he pulled flush against him, leaving absolutely no space between your bodies. another observation you'd made was that ever since paul drank the "water of life", he'd been extra aggressive in most everything: he'd give people harsher punishments, he'd execute orders with upmost precision, and when he loved...he'd love harder. his heart was practically bursting at the seams as all the love he'd been forced to shove down spilled out of him in the form of a bruising kiss.

you felt dizzy as paul pulled away from you, your cheeks flushed and your breathing a bit labored. the two of you just stared at each for a while, your fingers still twirling strands of his dark hair. "still want me to leave?" he asked, lightly brushing his lips against yours, his action making your eyes flutter shut. you felt your heart squeeze as you opened your eyes once again, gazing at him through watery eyes. "paul-" "i know...i know." paul's hands came up and cupped your face once more, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks and wiping away your tears. "me too...i'm sorry too..." he whispered before leaning back in to meet your lips again.

a shaky breath left your lips as you melted into the kiss once again, your hands clutching the front of his shirt as if he'd slip right through your fingers. paul's fingers playfully danced beneath the fabric of the shirt of your sleepwear, slowly tracing the skin of sides, as if trying to relearn their curvatures. your hand snaked up to tangle into his hair, a few tears flowing down your cheeks. not because you didn't want this; in fact, you wanted this so much it almost hurt. your breath hitched as you felt paul deepen the kiss, his body pressing against yours.

as you pulled away, breathing a bit heavier and cheeks flushed, you swallowed and met paul's eyes. the look in them was an untamed mix of love and something more. "...we should stop..." you murmured, your hands moving down to cup his face. you felt him relax into your touch, your heart warming. "you're right...but i don't want to-" just as he was about to lean back in for another kiss, a rhythmic knock on your door stopped him.

"ignore it." he muttered , a flash of irritation on his face. "but-" paul cut you off with another kiss, pushing you back into the mattress. his lips started to move with newfound fervor, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses over the skin of your jaw and down to the dip of your neck. feeling paul's hands start to roam under your shirt caused a soft sound between a gasp and a moan to leave your lips. "paul~" you muttered, letting your eyes flutter shut.

another knock made his hiss in annoyance. "[y/n], are you awake?" princess irulan's voice asked from behind the grand door. you and paul looked at each other, his eyes giving you a serious look. he got up and reluctantly hid in the little space between your bed and the wall.

"i'm sorry to bother you so late at night." the princess said, a gentle expression on her face. "oh, no, not at all, princess. what did you need?" "just irulan is fine. i was wondering if you'd seen paul. he wasn't in his study." you felt your stomach churn as the princess said his name. you shook your head, muttering a quick apology. "no, i haven't seen him today. maybe he went outside to get some fresh air." you lied. she gave your room a quick scan from where she stood and you knew she knew. she knew and decided to stay silent. "very well, have a good night." "you as well."

once the door closed, you were met with paul's bright blue eyes as he stood behind you, a soft but startled yell leaving you. you hadn't even heard him get up. he reached out and held your hand, gently squeezing it and kissing the back of it, letting his lips linger for a moment. paul then looked back up at you, leaning in and brushing his lips to yours one last time. "i'll see you soon..." he whispered against your lips, a soft hum of a response leaving you. you squeezed his hand, feeling your heart skip a beat. "yeah...see you soon..." he pulled away from you, making his way to the door and opened it a crack, glancing for anyone else that might be awake.

just as he was about to take his leave, you grabbed his hand, leaning back in to give him on final kiss. "good night." you murmured, your grip absentmindedly tightening. you didn't want to let him go, not now, not ever. not after knowing this would be the last night the two of you would share like this before paul went back to wearing that dreaded mask of indifference. "good night." you felt his hand slip from your as he took his leave, turning to meet your ocean blue eyes once last time. now you knew, he still loved you, even if he wouldn't show it.🌙

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