#that way i can at least have something more coming in the first week of january
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Silent Living
Characters: Noelle, Kinich, Lynette, Beidou, Diluc x mute GN!reader
Summary: You're mute, and cant talk? not a problem for your partner, they can find other ways to communicate, and honestly wouldn't have it any other way.
Warnings: mute reader, most of them dont know sign language but there are people where i think they would either have learned it already or will learn it for you, gn reader as always
Note: hehe its kinda hard to write for Noelle tbh, i just can't see her romantically if that makes sense, its like a platonic obsession i have for her. but i chose to write for some girlies bc i felt like it, luv you :P
Noelle
She's a sweetheart and i fully believe she would try to learn sign language the day you meet for the first time. but for the sake of the cute gestures lets pretend she barely knows any words in it, or that you arent the best yourself despite probably needing it heh.
(she would teach you some if so, or learn with you)
In a classic Noelle fashion, she does literally anything for you, though people would normally just have to speak her name, you can't. so she always keeps an extra eye on you to ensure she's there when you need her help. that may be a given, but its truly what shes best at doing.
Loves writing little notes for you, whether its just so you can remember something or if its to invite you anywhere, she loves it. and she has definitely not been carrying pen and paper with her for weeks so you could write notes for each other, no no.
I dont imagine her being the best with words, but is always very good at comforting. so if you need some reassurance or just comfort you can come to her. and you can let her know to be silent by putting a finger over her mouth if you like the silence more. she wont be offended don't worry.
Kinich
Not very good with words and likes silence when possible, so it's very common for you to sit in silence doing an activity together. he's best with actions at least, both giving and receiving, so just doing a tiny chore for him would mean more than words could.
Though it may be difficult to do anything for each other since he's quite busy, and so could you be. but he always has time to sit with you for at least 30 minutes a day and just spend quality time together.
if you ever need anything from him, he has a notebook on him at all times that you're free to write in. Although Ajaw has made a fuss about it being annoying to wait for you, but he'll shut up if Kinich locks him up.
Lynette
She loves the silence you bring. being around her brother all the time can get annoying, no matter how much she loves him, so a quiet tea time with you is often just what she needs. she knows you can feel out of place or left out even since you cant communicate as easily with her siblings. but she is always ready to talk for you.
No matter how much she hates public speaking, and how often she gets her brother to speak for her, she'll speak for you. if there's anything you'd like to say, just write it down and show it to her. she might even know what you wanted to say, by how you stand and how your muscles move. so she will sometimes speak for you before you even get to start writing it down.
She has made sure you're a part of the conversation, not just there and looking around. she might have some knowledge about sign language, but she knows many do not and makes sure everyone understands you.
(she might even ask father if they can get classes in sign language, or at least the siblings of hers that you interact with most often)
Beidou
Maybe not the best at silent communication, but she tries her very best. if she doesnt know sign language she'll learn it, mostly because she feels it would make you more comfortable, but its also something that she may find interesting.
She is very good at dealing with different kinds of people though, so expect yourself to feel right at home wherever you are on her ship. she might even have started teaching her crew how to talk with you properly, whether thats getting you something write down on or learning them a bit of sign language that im not sure of.
Unfortunately it all goes in weird directions when she's drunk, while she talks for you it might be hard to get her to pay attention enough or even speak your thoughts properly. Kazuha is your savior in this case.
Diluc
He has made sure every single maid and anyone he hires learn to speak through their hands. he might even have prepared for it before you started dating, and even some of his staff you have never met before just knows how to speak with you.
Its a given that you're going to be well treated at the dawn winery, but Diluc makes sure you feel the most at home you'll ever experience. you have at least 1 maid whos ready to tend to you in a seconds notice, whether its jsut that you need something to write on or you need to know where you lover is.
Will literally drop anything for you with just a finger on his shoulder. whatever you need, he'll do it. need a hug? no need to even gesture it he knows, someone doesnt understand you at all? he's ready to talk in your place for hours on end.
I might have written it weirdly again sry, im not mute and i just like writing, Luv Ya- Masterlist
You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#gn reader#noelle´s maiden#diluc x reader#diluc ragnvindr#noelle genshin impact#noelle x reader#beidou x reader#beidou#lynette x reader#lynette#kinich#kinich x reader#k'uhul ajaw#genshin impact x reader
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I think something that's bothers me about how folks talk about mouthwashing is how they talk about Swansea. It's either "Swansea would have killed Jimmy immediately if Anya had told him" or "he knew and he did nothing just like curly." because, to me at least it leaves out a lot of nuance to his character and situation. Curly and Swansea are really good foils to each other, one who's got a reputation for being the kind and helpful captain but in the end does nothing to truly protect the crew from Jimmy, and one who's gruff, harsh, and cruel but genuinely tries to help in the background, the reliable mechanic.
(read more for a long Mouthwashing character ramble tw for unwanted pregnancy and SA)
Because Curly is the one with the power. He doesn't take what Jimmy did seriously enough. And you can say that he might not have known fully what Jimmy did, but I think the "I told you" pregnancy conversation and his reaction to Jimmy right before the crash ("come on we'll get through this together. We'll figure it out, you've had hard times before-") are indicators that he knew, but he still chose to stick by his friend and treat it like a "mistake" rather than what it really was.
Now that's my own personal speculation of course, there's no outright scene of her telling him "your best friend assaulted me", but I think there's enough evidence in game through Anya and Curlys interactions to say that he knew, and he knew before Anaya knew she was pregnant. He had a fully functioning ship and four fully functional cryo-pods. He could have at least given Anya more security, kept her far away from him, and at most forced him into the cryopod until they got back to earth. Jimmy STILL had full, uncontrolled access to the cockpit AFTER his freakout with curly. AFTER Anya tells curly she doesn't feel safe with him. AFTER Curly finds out he raped Anya. He's so focused on seeing the good in his friend that he does NOTHING to protect Anya, doesn't strip away not one of Jimmy powers as copilot and consequently endangers her and the rest of the crew.
Curly was the captain, he had the power to relegate Jimmy to the fucking storage closet if he really wanted, at least put him in the cryopod until they got back to earth. In fact, he was the only person above Jimmy in terms of rank on the ship, but he chose to do nothing. He chose to let Jimmy continue as acting co-pilot, chose to comfort him rather than actually confront him. Slides off his weird sexual comments as jokes "So what's this about horses?"
Now let's compare that to Swansea, the mechanic.
We don't have any evidence that Swansea knew about what Jimmy did until after the crash ("it's been her telling me things") where they were trapped with no captain, barely any rations, and a single cryopod that he kept hidden away in the one room he had the key too (and the only room that could lead into medbay). He didn't use it for himself, he makes it clear he didn't intend on getting off this hunk of metal in his last few conversations with Jimmy.
Swansea as the ship's mechanic, was used to fixing things in the background. He didn't need to get along with anyone to keep the ship running, he didn't need people to like him to keep them safe. We see that with Daisuke. He's harsh on him, for sure, but he leaves constant notes to help him learn. Genuinely tries to keep him out of harm's way when it comes to more dangerous jobs. We know Anya was scared of Jimmy getting a weapon, she hid the gun case in the medical bay even knowing she would never get it open. We can see Swansea and Anya off on their own towards the first days after the crash, and Swansea still has a tight grip of the axe weeks and months later.
I personally think that was him trying to keep Jimmy from having access to a weapon. The only time Jimmy gets the axe while Swansea is alive is when Anya Specifically asks him to use it to get medical supplies. I don't think that's a coincidence.
Swansea, like any good mechanic, was quietly trying to keep things running out of Jimmy's sight. It's not until everyone is dead or dying that he snaps, that he finally takes direct action. But it was too little too late.
Both Curly and Swansea thought they were doing the right thing, helping in their own way. Curly genuinely wanted to see the good in Jimmy, wanted it to just be some challenge they could overcome, but in doing so he failed to see the monster right in front of him. He had all the power (in context of the crew, the company is a whole other can of worms I have so many other thoughts on), but he was too afraid to use it. Hell, he was DISCOURAGED to use it if the memo about HR complaints are anything to go by. Swansea, on the other hand, never trusted Jimmy, never even really liked him, but he didn't want to make anything worse either. He didn't know what would actually set Jimmy off, or what he was capable of, and aside from just straight up killing him what else could he do that wouldn't just push Jimmy further off the edge? Like with the foam. "One wrong move and you'll rip this ship a new asshole", he worked carefully, hiding the last pod from Jimmy, keeping the only other weapon on himself, guarding the only other entrance into Medbay, but Jimmy was escalating quickly. He underestimated how far Jimmy was willing to go, just like Curly had, and in the end suffered the consequences.
The only character who actually understood how dangerous and unstable Jimmy was is Anya. She knew the moment she found out she was pregnant he would hurt her ("you won't let me protect myself"). He wouldn't be able to take it, he would do something drastic. She knew he was escalating the longer they were stranded. Anya is the only crew member who truly understood how dangerous Jimmy was and took direct action.
And interesting thing to me is that she doesn't just kill herself. She locks herself in the medbay. She could have waited for Jimmy to sleep, or locked herself in the cockpit, but she locked herself in the medbay with Curly. She knows that with her gone there would be no one left to take care of him, she knew Jimmy would continue to escalate his abuse, and with her gone all of his anger and fear and guilt would turn on Curly.
And wouldn't you know it? She was right. Without Anya to stop him, he takes curly out of the bed, forces him upright into the cryopod, and forces a man with no skin, no arms, no legs, and infected tissues to be frozen for 20 years while the rest of his crew Rot. And that's only what we know to be reality- if any of his delusions had some basis in reality he could have done so so much more. Anya is the Only one to take reasonable, direct action to keep herself, and then Curly, safe.
But she didn't have enough power over Jimmy to truly protect herself. She didn't have the code to the gun case, she didn't have a weapon or a rank to fall back on. She was outnumbered by men who she knew from experience either wouldn't or couldn't keep her safe, and she was heavily pregnant with a baby she didn't want and most likely couldn't even get enough nutrients to sustain either her or the fetus. She was physically weakened and trapped in a stranded ship with her abuser with no way home and a medical miracle (curse) in Curly.
This game is a really good reflection of reality, in my opinion as an abuse survivor. Some people will see them as "one of the boys" and constantly excuse or downplay their actions (Curly), some people will do small things in the background, recognize the abuse and disprove, but don't want to get in the way or make things worse (Swansea), and some people are just straight up oblivious/naive (Daisuke). But in the end, it's the system that allows abuse and incentives coverups to keep peace or save face that really allows abuse to fester and escalate.
Which is why I personally have a problem with the idea that Anya should have just Told A Different Man because it ignores the very real chain of power and her own agency in her story, AS WELL AS the idea that Swansea and Diasuke knew but didn't care because that's just not reflective of real life. Not every man is some rapist apologist who doesn't care what abusers do until it happens to them, some people just don't know what to do, or don't have any good options that wouldn't result in further abuse. Hell some people just don't even fucking notice! Not everyone has had exposure to the signs or knows what to look for.
It's easy when looking at fictional depictions of abuse to say "well if I was there I would have just punched him/killed him/called the police" but real life, in that moment, its never going to be clear cut. You can call out abuse, but that might just lead to that abuser taking it out on their abuse victim later. They could even start to target you for daring to speak out, or try to hurt you and cut you off from the person being abused. You can know all the right steps and the right programs, but in the moment, when faced with a real situation where someone could get hurt or even killed? You stumble. You think things over, you don't try and make any direct moves that would set their abusers off. Sometimes that's a good instinct, and sometimes that just lets abuse escalate. It's never a good situation, and it's never actually anyone's fault but the abusers. And this way of thinking also conveniently leaves out the survivor of this abuse, and portrays them as someone who needs to be saved, rather than someone who needs support and resources to save themselves. It also very conveniently lets the company that Put Anya in this situation in the first place get off Scott free.
The solution isn't "oh one of the men on board should have personally killed Jimbo and saved Anya all by himself" its "Anya deserved the support of her crewmates instead of being forced into close proximity with her rapist and also maybe Jimmy shouldn't have access to the fucking controls or medbay or any weapons- AND ALSO the crew shouldn't have financial incentives not to report things to HR"
#yall thought this was a curly and swansea analysis?#nope got distracted with Anya#my beloved 😔💕#i just dont like the very black and white analysis ive seen going around#the nuance of this game and their situation is truly the best part#i also think the men of the crew and centered too much in discussions of Anyas assault#mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#stari wont shut up#yall take a shot everytime i said escalate wtf#read a thesaurus or something me. damn
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Endeavor Deserves No Sympathy!
I don't understand how anyone can think Endeavor was ever a good dad. It also always comes off as incredibly victim blamie, especially towards Touya, and often Shoto too.
He literally only got married and had kids to use them. He never gave a shit about their well being, never even thought about it until he had the one thing he cared about and was still miserable. I've already gone over the math proving he gave up on achieving his dream himself at 21 at the absolute latest. (https://www.tumblr.com/arceus-insanity/763259515356512256/i-liked-endeavors-character-when-he-was?source=share)
And basic math will once again be used to prove just how little this waste of flesh actually tries.
This time the focus is on how quickly he abandoned Touya and immediately went to emotional abuse via neglect & literally replacing him, and once again risking that more children be born with self-destructive quirks.
For context we only see Endeavor doing anything with his kids that's not him literally walking through and ignoring them in two circumstances. Once when Fuyumi's a newborn and Touya is attempting to crawl (not walk) over to her. And training. Those are the only times he tries to spend with any of them, even after he starts his 'atonement'
Now comparing Touya in the scene of them training and himself as a toddler and all the child imagery this series loves to use instead of actually saving imperfect victims, Touya is at least 3 (probably closer to 4) when he's taken to the doctor and they are informed of his condition
Natsuo is 4 and a half years younger than him.
We know for a fact Natsuo (& Shoto) was conceived after they got the news, not willingly either. Pregnancy takes 40 weeks average, so Touya would still be 3 when Natsuo was conceived. So once again it took this 'man' less than a year to give up and have another child he hoped to use as a tool, and was explicitly making to hurt his existing son. And as I have said plenty of times before, risking that the new kids could be born with the same disorder, I hate how convenient it is that Shoto gets near zero negative quirk side effects.
Want to know what we never see, Endeavor doing something else with Touya and Touya demanding training, it's always him walking past/ away from Touya. Considering all of the shit they've pulled to soften Endeavor's abuse both in the manga and even more so in the anime, they wouldn't skip something like this. It's not hard to tell that Touya's 'obsession with training' is really about spending time with his dad, you know like a human child that literally needs love, proven by numerous studies and research in the real world.
He throws all parenting responsibilities onto Rei, adds more children to that load, and when Touya suffers for it (like everyone else) he does nothing, doesn't even hire a nanny
Another are you kidding me take I've seen is that somehow Touya's quirk issues are worse than Midoriya's and Yuga's. Touya managed to train his quirk to produce blue fire at 13 with zero equipment and less than no help, and only lost control of it, because of the mental abuse Endeavor had inflicted on him leading him to a mental breakdown. And/ or the theory I've only seen once of AFO using his ability to force quirk activation (seen with a passed out chapter 90 during his first confrontation with All Might)
Midoriya was breaking his bones all the way into the Shie Hassaikai arc and was only able to fight because Eri and was breaking support equipment in the following arc as well. Yuga had a support belt all the way back in the entrance exam and was still struggling with that.
Speaking of Yuga let's compare parental effort here, because as much as it backfired Yuga's parents tried a whole lot more. For starters they nearly bankrupted themselves to get him a quirk, so he could feel equal. All For One is a mythic man prior to his arrest, and those who knew of him were shown to be serious long-term villain groups, so they had gone to quite a bit of effort to find that he existed to begin with. They also got him support gear (the navel belt thing) as a kid to help him with said quirk, he literally had it in the entrance exam. Endeavor never looked into that, Endeavor is not only rich too but he's a top hero he would have direct access to support equipment companies that would jump at the opportunity and it never even occurred to him.
Endeavor's name is an irony as endeavour means to try hard to do or achieve something. He never tries hard he gives up incredibly quickly the second there's any road block, but instead of moving on he makes everyone suffer for it. He's a toxic pageant mom who'd rather force their child into a toxic world and a role they don't want than work on himself
And what finally makes him change? Getting exactly what he wanted and still being miserable, and he still expects through his actions his family to cater to him.
Not his son getting a major disability due to his actions, no, he decided to double down, mentally abusing and neglecting the son he supposedly loves, raping his wife who didn't want more kids or participate in this abuse, and again risking that Natsuo & later Shoto might have that same issue. Not when his wife breaks down and permanently scars his precious masterpiece, who proceeds to rightfully blame him, and he just thinks of it as a tantrum despite it lasting a fucking decade. Not when his eldest literally dies as the result of his selfishness. Not literally during any part of this entire process!
Dabi is 23 when Endeavor finally starts to 'try' to be better, that means that for at least 24 years he has only been caring about his fucking precious number one spot in a popularity contest that he couldn't even bother to try to be likeable for, this wasn't one bad decision, this was him constantly choosing to be so insanely selfish that he found ways that shouldn't even be possible for over two decades. And it was all him.
#bnha#bnha critical#mha#mha critical#bnha meta#my hero academia#mha meta#anti endeavor#boku no hero academia#anti enji todoroki#rei todoroki deserves better#dabi deserves better#shoto todoroki deserves better#fuyumi todoroki decerves better#natsuo todoroki deserves better
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The tale of two cities according to Heiko and Stephi - Part 500
Unbelievable! This is the 500th part of our "Tales"! So Heiko and I thought that something special was needed.
But first of all, we want to thank you. You are fantastic, and without you and your comments, this wouldn't have been the same.
In the past years we have visited each other a few times, and this week we both wrote something about what we think the biggest differences of our hometowns are.
Let's start with Heiko's text and the photo (the first one) he took in Munich:
Today is our 500th Tale, which is pretty unbelievable. Yet, I admit that we are repeating ourselves a lot when it comes to the seasons (watch our for Christmas time) and we might even have repeated ourselves in some subjects. Still, we are doing the Tales for almost 10 years, a feat neither Stephi nor myself would have ever thought we would accomplish.
We also visited the other person’s city a couple of times and there are some differences about them. Picking out one, I would say that Munich is just bigger and you really need some time to explore the city. It just looked vaster to me. It seemed that you always need e tram or train to get to another spot. In Cologne, on one of Stephi’s trip, we went on foot and within a couple of hours I was able to show her the heart of the city with some of the most important places. I admit that if we took a tram, we would have been able to see other spots as well that are not in the center but more on the fringes, but you can spend a couple of days in Cologne by foot and see a lot of great and important places. I never had that feeling in Munich as the tourist attractions and other cool places were further apart.
Basically, you can spend a day in Cologne and see a lot of the city. I don’t think that would have been able in Munich. Yet, it’s well worth to spend more days in Cologne and go into some local pubs to get to know the people of the city and it’s flair. That will pass you by when you are only in the center that is usually crowded with tourists.
Another difference are the temperatures I experienced. Today it was cold and windy in Cologne. But I have never felt temperatures like on that trip in January 2017. That was cold and could have served as my own personal hell.
My picture from Munich is from that cold January trip and I am trying to show the vastness of the city.
Other things are petty similar though. I have seen some cool parks in Munich in which people hang out. The same is true for Cologne.
Since I spend most time with Stephi and Pete (and Fern on one trip), I didn’t get know other people from Munich. But according to Stephi, the people are pretty cool and open minded, other than the impression you get from Bavarian’s politicians and the way people vote. Cologne also praises itself for being open minded and I usually find that to be true.
I could probably go on for a while but I still want to thank you for sticking with us, reading our Tales and responding from time to time. I rarely respond but I really do appreciate your comments and feedback, read and enjoy it. Thank you all very much.
Now to my text and the photo I took in Cologne:
I think, Cologne and Munich are both great but very different cities. During my visits to Cologne, I was most impressed by the cathedral and the river Rhine. We inhabitants of Munich love our cathedral but - if I'm honest - the "Frauenkirche" isn't very impressive. At least not as impressive as the "Kölner Dom". Munich has a sweet little river, the Isar. It's nice for swimming and for spending some quality time. The river Rhine is way bigger and more impressive, but it's not a good idea to swim in it. I guess, you can't have everything. In my opinion, both rivers belong to the highlights of our respective hometowns, but in a different way.
Munich is close to the mountains and has beautiful surroundings. If you ever visit Munich you should take the time to visit the surroundings as well. Munich and Cologne look very different but the biggest differences for me are the people. When I was in Cologne, I found the citizens so nice, and refreshing, funny, and honest. During my first visit to Cologne, I took a taxi and the taxi driver wasn't only funny, he even wanted to share his breaktime snack with me and offered some radishes. I can't imagine something like that happening in Munich. Munich's citizens are more stiff and not as open as the ones of Cologne are.
Have you ever visited both cities? What do you think are the most differences of our hometowns?
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a little late to this game and I can't even give my full notes like the previous two times (I'm at work and can't do the second watch through I do to take note of my thoughts) but I would like to scream regardless, sp here are a few disjointed thoughts and feelings I'm screaming into the void!
as always, spoilers for arcane, the final act, under the cut
-LESBIAN SEX LETS GO WE FUCKINGGGG WOONNNNNNNNNNNNNN 🎉🎉🎉🎉🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈
-but on a serious note for that thought, I'm so fucking happy that we got to have this. these two complex, beautiful, awful amazing women who are unapologetically queer and finally get their shit together to realise, the world isn't gonna wait for us, let's have sex, let's enjoy it. the fumble that vi makes with caits fancy belt, the delicate and healing way that cait holds and undresses vi, the full shot of vi's back tattoo, the fact that they can't keep their hands off each other and can't stop smiling! fuck! this was everything to me if you couldn't tell. also so much appreciation to the fact that this scene is an exact parallel to their first meeting!
-yes Mel get it with your sexy golden magic. I can't wait for the spin off series that will come from thus show cus I think it'll explore the black Rose and noxus war and I can't wait to see more of them!
-cait fighting desperate and dirty while still being so smart you have my heart (also cait with an eyepatch, fuccckkkkkkkkkk
-Maddie's betrayal lol, and the thanks for the warmth, bitch what warmth, cait was so mean to you even when you were sleeping together 😂
-the alternate reality???? oughh, oug oww, I need to lie down and cry for a whole week about that. everyone being alive except vi??? that shit hurted. also, domestic and therapised powder was everything I didn't know I needed and I'm so glad that when ekko figured out the anomaly that that timelines ekko came back to her. timebomb so cannon (also adore ekko for this entire act, every single second of it)
-jayvik mutual destruction is so them actually, and I'm glad they were together in the end. also sorcerer older vik had to be my favourite of his character designs. he looks so soft and at peace
-ambessas death is really not something I though we would see, or at least not in the way that it happened. but it's almost bitter-sweet that her death was nesacary for Mel to graduate to wolf in her eyes
-look, heimerdingers sacrifice was cute and heartfelt, but I really didn't have any attachment to the guy and was just glad that ekko made it home. very cute little song though
-Jinx is fucking dead and I hate it. yes it was in character, she did her one last good thing and just wanted to rest, but damn why did it have to be like that , but on the other hand, it leaves open the spot for powder to take hold of the narrative, because don't think I didn't see those hextech gems girl. she is everything to me and I really hope she's apart of whatever story comes next (I'm praying that powder gets to see vi all grown up, and that her older sister is okay, and that vi gets to see powder, the girl she might have been, and also that vi can see her brothers all grown up) (but that's all just wishful thinking)
-btw!! I always had faith in the writers. I love how this season came out on the full. it's absolutely amazing to me how they have managed to create on of if not the highest quality animated TV show ever. it was admittedly rushed, and I would have loved to see all these plot threads tugged at thoroughly before being tied up, but I still think what we got was a masterpiece
-jayce I did not like you in season one but I loved you in season two, and I held out hope that we would see why you did what you did, and it was so fucking perfect I would like to kick all of the jayce haters, just a little in the shins
-back to Jinx, it was genuinely so heartbreaking to see her catatonic over the loss of Isha and I hope they're together again now
-final form (herald) vik was pretty cool I like how it looked compared to his LoL design
-cait and Mel team up was something I didn't know I needed but damn it was good. the gays and girl kissers were eating well this weekend
-the animation of powder and ekko dancing? think I'll just go cry for another week for that alone, and their kiss!!??!? screaming crying
okay that's all I can think of for now. I may post more, I may not. I will absolutely be reposting like crazy though. agree or disagree with me, I want to hear your thoughts!
#lesbian#arcane#arcane season 2#arcane season 2 spoilers#arcane spoilers#caitvi#piltovers finest#timebomb#jayvik#screaming crying throwing up#im not okay after this and will proceed to watch the entire show at least 3 times through
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lost mail | fred g. weasley
summary: after a bad break up you try to get rid of the memories, instead you find something that turns your life upside down word count: 4.3k masterlist
You cannot remember why you chose to keep every little piece of your life.
That was the only thought in your mind while you went through every box you kept in your attic. And every box came with the memories.
You couldn’t decide if you were grateful for it or if you hated it.
At the front of the attic were the newest memories you have kept, the ones who were involving the one person you were trying to forget.
The person who was at fault in the first place for you being up here and going through every box.
It hadn’t even been a week since the person you truly loved at one point told you that they were moving on, packing up their bags and that there was no space for you in those plans.
You were lying if you said you weren’t hurt, but you knew that you should be more devastated by this. Deep down you already knew that that ending was inevitable. And maybe you had made peace with that a long time ago.
And if you were truly honest with yourself, maybe you never really loved that person at all. How could you love a person that never truly saw you?
Giving yourself up and everything you stood for just to not be alone? You were foolish to believe that it could work.
You decided to make a clean cut. And that involved getting rid of the boxes that kept pieces of the memories you wanted to forget.
But once you started going down the memory lane, you couldn’t stop.
In every box were pieces of people you had not seen in a lifetime, at least that’s what it felt like to you.
These boxes had hidden secrets in them, ones you almost forgot but never really could. Like the coin that used to be your lucky charm, the one you would always carry around.
The castle was quiet at this time of night.
Not a soul around, just you and the moon.
You weren’t the kind of person who could easily break the rules, but at nights where you couldn’t sleep the only thing to help was to take a walk around the deserted hallways.
Never before have you been caught, but luck didn’t seem to be on your side tonight.
The sudden sound of footsteps made you stop in your tracks and with them came the one and only Fred Weasley.
He ran right past you, straight into the empty classroom behind you.
Before you could process that, Snape was in front of you.
“What are you doing wandering this castle at night?” he asked you, hair a mess and just a tad out of breath. He had been seemingly chasing after Fred.
“I was just thirsty,” you lied straight through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
Snape on the other hand did not look impressed with your lie, but he seemed to have more important matters to tend to. “This is of no interest to me. Have you noticed someone running this way?”
“Have you lost someone, Professor?” you joked, immediate regret following with the way Snape looked at you. “I did, he ran that way,” you said, pointing in the opposite direction.
“If I ever see you again wandering the castle at night or see you misstep in any way, you will have detention for the rest of the school year. Also ten points lost. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” you replied, no longer finding joy in this situation.
Snape turned around before the words left your mouth, having no use for you anymore.
After he was out of sight, you knocked softly on the door of the classroom Fred was in. “You can come out, he’s gone,” you said in a hushed tone.
The door opened with caution, and you were looking at the grinning face of the red head. “Well, hello there and thank you from the bottom of my heart, love,” he said, sending you a wink that made your eyes roll.
“I think you owe me one,” you told him, taking a step back so he could step out of the room.
“Oh, I’d do anything for you,” he agreed, his grin widening even more if that was even possible.
“A normal person would offer money or something,” you hushed, with flushed cheeks. Never before have you been at the receiving end of the Weasley charm.
“Sorry to disappoint, but I do have…,” he rummaged through his pockets, fishing out one coin of a currency you did not recognize, “I have that.”
He offered it up to you, but you pushed his hand back to him, saying “I was only joking.”
“Maybe, but I’m not,” he said before taking your hand and placing the coin in it, closing your hand around it.
The brush of his hand was gone in a second, but something about it settled into your skin, a warmth you couldn’t shake even as you put the coin in your pocket.
“It’s my lucky charm, so you better keep it safe,” he said in mock seriousness, before turning around and walking away.
“I’ll try my best, Weasley,” you murmured as you watched him go.
You closed your fist around the coin, imaging that it still carried the warmth of Fred, but it did not. It was cold in your hand, leaving you feeling guilty when you remembered that you hadn’t been around at the shop as much as you used to.
It wasn’t that you had ignored him intentionally—you’d just been caught up in work and your relationship.
The same relationship Fred had disapproved of from the beginning. But you were determined to make it work, because that’s the kind of person you were.
You took crumbs of love and affection and tried to turn them into something more, desperately holding onto someone who did not even look back as they left.
Fred knew you better than anyone, and he’d told you this wasn’t right for you. But he’d respected your decision.
Still, it had put a strain on your friendship. Now, you felt a sudden urge to go and apologize, to make things right. But you didn’t—you were too much of a coward to admit you’d been wrong, especially so soon after the breakup.
You always used to be like that when it came to arguments, even if you knew deep down you were wrong, you still carried on. Maybe it was because you were telling yourself that sometimes it was better for everyone if you just ignored the truth—a tendency you also had when it came to other things.
“Why can’t you just admit you were wrong?” Fred asked, shaking with laughter.
You crossed your arms, turning your head to the side, trying to stifle a smile. “Because I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” he insisted, tugging on your arm like a child begging for sweets. “Just admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it.”
You kept your mouth shut, unwilling to give in. But despite yourself, you couldn’t help smiling at his antics.
“There it is!” he crowed in victory, as though your smile was all he’d been after.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?” you said, no longer able to hold back a laugh.
He gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his heart. “You wound me.” Dropping down beside you, he put on his saddest face. “I’m leaving soon, and all you can do is insult me. How terrible of you.”
You shook your head, though his words struck a pang in your chest.
It was true. In less than a month, Hogwarts would no longer echo with the laughter of Fred and George. They would leave to open their shop and leave everything—including you—behind.
This was Fred’s dream, and you supported him wholeheartedly, but the ache of his coming departure had settled inside you and refused to go away. You knew it would linger, long after he was gone.
“Don’t remind me. It won’t be long now,” you muttered, a grimace on your face.
He nudged you gently, offering a smile of his own. “Don’t be sad. Once you graduate, you can come work for me and George. You could even move in with us.”
A chuckle escaped your lips. “Where? In your room?” You knew their flat above the shop only had two bedrooms.
“I wouldn’t say no,” he winked at you.
All you could do was stare at him, needing a moment to process his words.
The idea of moving in with Fred warmed your cheeks, and your mind couldn’t help wandering to the idea of a life together.
But that’s all it was—a fantasy.
“Very funny, you git,” you laughed, trying to defuse the tension that had appeared for just a moment. Moments like these seemed to happen more often lately.
There were times when Fred said something that could have meant more, only for you to turn it into a joke. It was easier that way—or at least, that’s what you told yourself to not have your heart be broken by false hope. Because this was Fred, he was just joking around, nothing more. That’s just what he did.
Fred took the lifeline you threw him, laughing along before saying, “I’m not the one who said Chocoballs are better than Jelly Slugs.”
And just like that, your old argument started up again.
Maybe in a few weeks, you’d be ready to face Fred. For now, you kept sifting through memories in the quiet of the attic, where the evening sun cast a warm glow.
There were so many pictures and keepsakes from the past few years, and looking at them now, a sense of dread washed over you. Years spent giving your love to someone who had never deserved it.
One box was filled with old parchments, overflowing with thoughts—a diary of your mind. It was a habit you had given up soon after meeting your ex, who never understood its importance. Not like someone else, someone special.
In another box, you stumbled upon an old photo from your days at Hogwarts, familiar faces you hadn’t seen in ages smiling back at you. Underneath it lay another photo, this one taken by an unknown person—a candid shot of you and Fred. You still remembered the day it was taken.
Sitting by the Great Lake in your favorite hidden spot, you couldn’t put your quill down. So many thoughts were swirling around your head that you needed to pour them all out.
That’s how Fred found you.
“Slow down, you might set the paper on fire,” he teased, a smile on his face. You jumped at the sound of his voice, not having noticed his arrival.
“Merlin, you scared me,” you sighed, looking up at him. His hair was disheveled, the top buttons of his shirt were undone, and his tie was slung over his shoulders.
Before you could ask what happened, he settled next to you on the stone, asking curiously, “What are you writing, anyway?”
“Anything and everything,” you told him earnestly.
“Huh?”
“I’m writing down every thought I have—it makes it easier to sort through the mess,” you explained, looking out at the water, a little nervous about his reaction to your strange habit.
You did not dare tell him that most of these thoughts involved him.
But his answer surprised you. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you?”
You turned to him, confusion written on your face.
Fred scratched the back of his head, his tone softer. “I mean… I get it. I’ve got a million things going on in my head all the time. Putting them down isn’t a bad idea.”
You hummed, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe you should take my advice, then,” you said with a wink.
That made him laugh. “Maybe I should.”
A comfortable silence settled over you before you quietly confessed, “It’s also the only way to make my mind go quiet.”
Fred didn’t answer right away; instead, he stared out at the lake, watching the afternoon sun dance on the water.
But you were watching him, admiring the way his brows knitted and his lips—just the perfect shade of pink—pursed in thought. That look of quiet concentration made him more handsome than ever.
The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like the perfect expression of the connection you shared: the way you could sit together for hours without speaking a single word and still feel content.
When Fred finally spoke again, you nearly missed it. “I have you for that.”
You didn’t even remember seeing anyone there with a camera, but you were grateful now for the photo they’d captured of you and Fred. Those were the moments you cherished most.
Beside the picture lay a stack of your old schoolbooks. As you picked up Advanced Potion-Making, a small note slipped out and fluttered to the floor. Your name was written on it in familiar handwriting, though you couldn’t recall what it was.
With a sense of curiosity mixed with something heavier, you unfolded the paper, revealing a handwritten letter addressed to you.
May 1996
My love,
you’re surly wondering why I’m writing you a letter but I was told by someone special that sometimes putting words on paper was the only way to sort though the mess in your mind, and that mess has been there ever since the day I met you.
I know that this is sudden but also not…
There has always been something between us, ever since I first saw you in that hallway when I was running away from Snape.
Ever since that night I couldn’t get you out of my head to the point George wanted to kick me out of our room, because all I was talking about was you.
I've been carrying this secret for a while now. I kept telling myself it would fade or that maybe it was just a momentary feeling. But here I am, still reeling from it every time I see you smile, or when your hand brushes against mine. It's as if my heart can't help but leap toward you, even though you're already so close.
I have known you now for so long and you’re still all I think about.
I don't think I tried to fall in love with you, yet here I am, helplessly yours in every way that matters.
Even if all we ever are is friends, l'll still be grateful to have you in my life. If there's even the smallest part of you that feels the same... then I want you to know that l'll be here, waiting.
I’m leaving tomorrow, I know that this is sudden and might be already too late or maybe this is the perfect moment.
Maybe in a year, after you graduate, you will be working with me and George, share a room with me, like we talked about and make me the happiest person every day just by being with me—in any way you want.
Anyways, I’m waiting for you at our spot.
Don’t leave me hanging.
Yours, always,
Freddie
You never knew.
Tears had fallen onto the letter, and you hadn’t even realized you were crying.
All these years, and you’d never known about this letter.
All these years, and you’d never given Fred an answer.
What must he have thought? That you ignored him? That you didn’t feel the same? That you’d simply left him waiting alone in your spot?
Your throat tightened, and your heartbeat quickened. With trembling hands, you read the letter again. And then again. Making sure that the words were real, not some figment of your imagination.
He had to watch you fall in love with someone else.
That thought shattered you. Pressing a hand to your chest, you tried to contain the pain spreading through you, tightening around your heart.
With shaky legs, you stood, clutching the letter tightly, and walked away.
&
You found yourself in Diagon Alley, moving toward a place you hadn’t visited in ages. You weren’t sure how you’d ended up here—you only knew you had to come.
The shop was dark, already closed, but the door was unlocked, left open until they finished their work in the back. An old habit, one you knew well.
Because you knew Fred.
He had been the one constant in your life, someone you’d always loved, though you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t meant to be, forcing yourself to move on.
But the letter in your hand told you how wrong you had been.
Rounding the counter, you found the office. A soft orange glow seeped out from under the door, accompanied by the faint scratch of quill on parchment.
You hadn’t planned what to say—all you had was the letter, clutched tightly in your hand. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open.
“George, I told you—” Fred began, looking up from his papers. His brows furrowed as he took in your disheveled hair and red eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I didn’t know,” you whispered, stepping further into the office. The familiar scents of smoke and cider surrounded you, grounding you.
“What?” His voice was gentle, but cautious.
“I didn’t know you loved me,” you replied, holding up the letter.
You saw realization dawn on his face, the moment he understood what you were holding. He shot up from his chair, his breath shaky, though he didn’t speak.
“I just found it, and I—I didn’t know,” you repeated, needing him to understand.
You needed him to know that you never meant to cause him pain—that you had never intended to leave him waiting alone by your spot at the Great Lake.
Tears blurred your vision as you repeated the same words, over and over, like a mantra: “I didn’t know.” They were all you could cling to as you trembled, heart pounding, unraveling in front of him.
Only when you felt Fred’s strong arms enfold you did the world seem to steady, his soft whispers reaching you through the haze. “It’s okay,” he murmured, “shh…it’s okay.”
You pressed your face into his chest, clutching his shirt as the letter crumpled in your hand. His voice anchored you, each word a lifeline as you soaked his shirt with your tears. Every emotion crashed over you at once. Regret, anger, grief and fear.
Fred never stopped murmuring reassurances, nor did he release you from his embrace. Only when your sobs quieted did he gently ease you back, his gaze searching yours. “We should talk,” he said softly.
And that’s how you found yourself curled up beside him on a small, well-worn sofa in his living room, a cup of tea warming your hands. The letter lay on the table before you, a tangible reminder of the conversation he’d been waiting years to have.
For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence felt heavy, filled with everything you needed to say but didn’t know how to begin.
At last, you broke it, voice barely above a whisper. “We broke up.”
If Fred was surprised, he didn’t show it, merely nodding, acknowledging your words with quiet understanding.
He sat beside you, though with a safe, careful distance—as if he feared getting too close too soon.
“It never would’ve worked, you were right.” You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, studying his familiar face, still as warm as you remembered. “I think I was trying to turn nothing into something more. Trying to make it work, because that’s just what I do.”
He looked down, fidgeting with his long fingers, a habit you’d always known. He didn’t look at you, but somehow you felt his attention, unwavering.
“I don’t know if I loved-,” you cut yourself off. “I just had to move on from you, that’s all I knew,” you confessed quietly, feeling shame. “When I was cleaning out old things, I found all these memories… I found this.” You pointed to the letter on the table, the heart of it all.
You took a deep breath, preparing for the hardest part of all. “I never saw it before, and when I read it…” You laughed, a sad, soft sound. “It was everything I ever wanted. And I didn’t even know I could’ve had it.”
A tear slipped down your cheek as you whispered, “If only I’d known… I would’ve been there. I would’ve done anything. You must have thought I was heartless. You must have hated me.”
Fred’s voice was soft when he replied, “I could never hate you.” He set his tea aside, finally meeting your gaze with an intensity that made your heart stutter. “I assumed you just… didn’t feel the same. That maybe it was too hard to tell me that to my face. But I never hated you, not for one moment.”
You shook your head, needing him to understand. “If I had known—”
But Fred shook his head, stopping you. “In time, I accepted that loving you from afar was all I could do, and I knew that keeping even a small part of you was better than losing you entirely.”
The weight of his words sank in, each syllable touching something deep within you. Could he still love you, after all this time? The thought was terrifying and exhilarating, both the possibility of an answer and the risk of rejection. But there was a way to show him how you felt, one you’d kept close for years. Reaching into your pocket, you took out the coin he had given you so long ago.
A spark of hope glimmered in Fred’s eyes as he took it in, the recognition softening his features. “You kept this? After all these years?”
“You told me not to lose it,” you replied, your voice tender with a hint of a smile.
He took the coin from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours, leaving a familiar warmth that seemed to linger in the space between you.
“But you never were a very good listener,” Fred teased, his familiar grin reappearing for the first time that evening, making your heart flutter. In that moment, you saw not just the man sitting beside you, but the boy you had fallen for so many years ago.
Though it had been months, maybe years, since you’d spent time together as you should have, he still felt like home.
His soft brown eyes, the faint crinkles at their corners, the freckles scattered across his face like constellations, and his flaming-red hair, now grown longer—he was so much the boy you’d once known, and yet now a man, shaped by life and loss, sitting close enough to touch.
“What happens now?” you asked, voice quiet, as if afraid to disturb the fragile peace of this moment. But you needed to know. This was new and terrifying, and all you wanted was for him to take your hand and assure you everything would be alright.
“Whatever you want,” he replied simply.
But what you wanted wasn’t simple at all. You wanted him in every way you’d ever dreamed, to be by his side and share in his life. You wanted him to hold you as you mourned the years lost to another, yet you couldn’t find the words to ask it of him.
Fred understood, as he always did. “If you want to be with me, we’ll make it work. And if you need time, I’ll give you that.” He gently took your hand in his, his touch a silent promise. “I’ve waited years. I can wait a little longer.”
“I don’t want to wait,” you assured him immediately, your voice filled with the weight of all the years you had spent denying yourself this truth.
You could feel the shift in him, a warmth filling his gaze, his smile softening. Slowly, he leaned closer. “Are you sure?”
His voice sent shivers down your spine, his breath warm against your cheek. But your answer came without hesitation.
“About you? Always,” you whispered.
And that was when his lips met yours, a kiss so tender it felt like a wish made real, warm and gentle, a thousand memories woven into one perfect moment. His hand cupped your cheek, grounding you as you melted into him, your heart beating wildly in your chest.
His lips tasted of tea and something indescribably sweet, like warmth and comfort, like every dream you’d ever had of him. It was soft, unhurried, the years of yearning unfolding as his fingers brushed your skin, leaving a trail of warmth that you felt in every part of you.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, a mischievous grin lighting up his face as he whispered, “Took you long enough, didn’t it?”
All you could do was laugh, nudging him away before pulling him back in, savoring the warmth you’d both waited too long to feel.
Fred’s gaze fell on the letter lying on the table, the edges worn and softened from years of waiting. He ran his thumb over your hand, murmuring, “Funny how one piece of parchment kept us apart.”
You looked at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Guess it was just waiting for the right time.”
#fred weasley#harry potter#fanfic#fanfiction#fic#fred fic#fred weasley fic#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley imagine#fred weasly x reader#fred weasely x y/n#fred weasley x you#weasley#weasley twins#hp fanfic#harry potter fic#harry potter imagine#harry potter fanfiction#imagine#romance#fred wealsey fic
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Heavy Crown
Summary: Prince Sam's premonition can only be quelled by the presence of his personal guard.
Tags: 18+ content!!!, flowery ass fancy ass medieval adjacent talking, suggestive conversations, minor minor angst
Words: 11k
A/N: Hear ye, hear ye, I do decree that none of you can look me in the eyes ever again after reading this.
~~~
It’s the window that did it, really. At least, that’s what the prince had said.
It was a tall, grand window positioned opposite the bed that slept across the wide length of the bedroom, with heavy velvet curtains that were drawn in the evening and undone in the morning to reveal the shimmering glass. Despite the effort it would take and the noise it would invoke if those curtains were to move, Prince Samuel insisted his guard be removed from his post outside his chamber doors and instead spend his evenings beside the window.
“I have terrible dreams of someone coming through the window and slitting my throat in my sleep,” Samuel explained to his father the king, tearfully clinging to his arm. “I ask David replace Daniel’s post and Daniel stay with me. He’s the only one I trust to handle an intruder if my dreams turn out to be premonitions.”
Of course the king had relented to his youngest child, third in line for the throne and yet the undisputed favorite. Riding the aftershock of a rambunctious rebellious phase that had Samuel turning the palace inside and out when he was a youth, his parents would do just about anything to keep him satisfied and away from the fine china. And so, Daniel of the royal guard ended up sitting stoic and alert in a plush chair in front of the window night after night while Samuel slept.
That is, until the prince started to spend his time in bed talking instead of sleeping.
Talking to Daniel.
It was all very innocent at first. That’s how Daniel remembers it. A week or so into this operation, Daniel jolted from a light doze by the soft bell of Samuel’s voice reaching out to him in the inky black of the room. If it were daytime, he would have passed his time quite quickly admiring the ornate intricacies of the vanity, the trim of the wall, the frame of the bed, the patterns of the quilt, the body beneath them…
“Daniel?”
“Your Majesty?” Daniel startled, getting to his feet in an instant and his hand going straight to the sword on his side. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s the matter, you can sit,” Samuel insisted, amusement lacing his voice and making Daniel feel suddenly silly for reacting the way that he did, despite it being his duty to do so. “It’s just that I can’t sleep.”
“Oh,” Daniel said simply, sitting gingerly back down on his seat. “Should I request something from the kitchen?”
“Is that what you would do for yourself?” Sam asked.
His tone was odd. Daniel couldn’t quite place its intent. He felt self conscious under Samuel’s scrutiny, which was something the prince seemed to subject him to often. When he stood beside his throne at the edge of the room during court, he could always feel the heat of Samuel’s eyes on him in his peripheral vision while keeping his gaze on the doors and whatever danger may lay behind them. Daniel burned often during court.
“I…suppose I would,” Daniel answered honestly. “When I was young and couldn’t sleep, my mother would bring me milk and a slice of bread and it would make me plenty drowsy.”
There was a moment of silence as Samuel considered his words. Immediately, Daniel worried he had said too much about himself. It felt wrong to mention himself at all in the presence of royalty. Everyone’s lives were supposed to revolve around theirs. Lucky for Samuel, Daniel was more than happy to mold his life to make Samuel’s easier.
“Request this from the kitchen,” Samuel ordered in a bored tone, yawning as he said it. In doing so, he completely betrayed his facade of being far too awake for his own liking, but Daniel didn’t seem to notice as he got to his feet and whispered the demand to the guard outside the door.
-
After this occasion, Prince Samuel spent every night provoking more and more conversation out of his otherwise silent guard.
“Daniel?”
“You must be up early in the morning, Prince. You should rest.”
“You know I struggle to do so.”
“Your struggle would be helped by an attempt to rest.”
“I’ll have your head for that,” Samuel snapped, but they both knew it carried no weight. “I mean only to ask for your opinion. Or have you risen above matters such as morals?”
“What opinion do you require, Your Majesty?”
“You also know I hate when you call me that.”
“It is what you are to me,” Daniel stated plainly.
In truth, it was more so what had been taught to him. He was reminded often how lucky he was to receive a position with such high honor, and to refer to who he protected as anything less prestigious than they were was entirely unacceptable. Even titles that were within his right to use sometimes felt too intimate for him to be using. Once, when Daniel had first been appointed to serve the youngest prince, he had called him “my prince” and proceeded to feel an uncomfortable warmth in his face for hours after it had left his lips. This was due in part to the stare Prince Samuel had subjected him to after he had said it. It was a stare he felt had never really quite left him.
“Call me Samuel,” Samuel insisted. With a shift in the blue of the night, Daniel could tell he had flipped from his back to rest his pillow on his cheek to face Daniel. “If only in my quarters, call me that. If you resist, I will order you to.”
“What opinion do you require…Samuel,” Daniel forced out, feeling a strained heat in his body as he made himself speak the name. It felt so wrong. Salacious, somehow. He was not meant to know his protectee in this way. He was not meant to want to know his protectee in this way.
“At the ball we will host this coming weekend, do you recommend I wear my robes of blue or red?” Samuel asked, pleased by Daniel’s subordinance. “I’d like to wear my crown as well, if that changes your opinion in any way.”
“This may be a question best suited to your tailor,” Daniel replied, despite having an immediate answer in his head. “I don’t know much in ways of fabrics and drapery.”
“But what do you prefer? On me?”
“I prefer whatever you feel flatters you best.”
Daniel felt everything the prince wore flattered him best. He could walk the castle grounds wearing robes stitched together with curtains and rugs and Daniel would still think of it for hours.
“You are impossible, Daniel,” the prince whined, loudly flipping onto his back once more and disrupting the goose down pillows and mattress that cushioned him. “If you are not suited to answer such simple questions, I ask you fetch David from outside the door and-”
“The red,” Daniel cut him off quickly, bristling in his seat. “I recommend the red for you.”
There was a span of silence that seemed like forever to Daniel as he felt the smug satisfaction drifting from Samuel reach him from across the room.
“Thank you for your council, Daniel,” Samuel hummed. “Now I can rest.”
“Rest well…Samuel,” Daniel answered him.
If it were easy to see, you could’ve seen both their smiles in the dark.
-
After a lifetime of being told of the untouchable power and dominion the house of Kiszka held over their kingdom, and even those that stretched far beyond the sea, it felt somehow dangerous to bend to the friendship that was forming between him and the youngest prince. When Samuel’s prodding questions turned into rambling, these mythical figures that Daniel had sworn his autonomy to were stripped of their mystique and glory until they were simply people. With Samuel’s words, a king and queen that bowed the heads of nations and dropped members of the court to their knees turned into overbearing parents whose strongest arsenal held only embarrassing nicknames instead of weapons. The steely eyed general of an army, a cunning strategist, and a charitable princess were reverted to mischievous children united against their youngest brother, armed only with peach pits for tossing and sticky hands made for pulling hair. Samuel spent his time on the outskirts of royal importance mapping their lives and their trajectory. And now, as Daniel slowly warmed up to him, he finally had someone to report his findings to.
“My father has spent another useless afternoon in talks with the high court from that prissy kingdom in the mountains about a bride for Joshua,” Samuel announced one evening as he smoothed his quilts and Daniel took his post in his chair. “I know he’s first in line, but we all know he’s just going to keep scaring those poor girls away as he always has.”
“Joshua would make a fine king,” Daniel responded. As weeks of chatter turned into months, he had reclined from a tense posture to a casual lean, even allowing his legs to cross comfortably. He did it then, massaging the back of his sore neck with a hand while Samuel fluffed his blankets with snaps of the wrist.
“Yes, but he doesn’t want to be a ‘fine king’,” Samuel sighed, taking advantage of the warm light the still lit candles cast through the room so he might make proper eye contact with his guard. “He’d rather spend all day drawing his maps and goofing off with his men. Honestly, I don’t even know what they all actually do. We haven’t needed to “strategize” for anything in years. We’re a peaceful people!”
Daniel hummed thoughtfully and nodded sagely, carefully keeping his mouth shut. Daniel knew well what plans of action that the royal guard appointed to the eldest son often carried out, but he decided it was not his place to relay that to his little prince.
“I will share a sentiment of mine if you swear not to repeat it,” Samuel proclaimed, finally settling his legs under the silks and fine Egyptian cotton while keeping his back to the carved headboard.
“There is nothing I would not swear to you, Your Highness,” Daniel answered solemnly.
“There are times when I feel this whole system with its relation to my family and our kingdom is just so…”
The prince trailed off, tilting his head to the ceiling and thinking. Daniel used this beat of quiet to admire him without shame or quickly darting eyes. The low, pensive slope of Samuel’s eyebrows over his foxlike eyes, down to the straight descent of his nose and the sculpt of his lips…all of it invited Daniel in.
“The monarchy, I mean. Well, I can’t say I care for it much most days.”
Daniel blinked in shock, jolting out of his haze and twisting at the hip to face the prince head on.
“But you are so favored,” Daniel responded, taken aback by Samuel’s words. “There are legions who would give their lives for the power you hold.”
“They can have it,” Samuel grumbled. “I know if my brothers and sister were here, they would agree with me. When Joshua is king, I pray he fulfills the rearrangement we all crave.”
“What is it you crave?”
Samuel fell silent and turned his gaze to Daniel, who received it with a slow intake of breath through his nose and a neutral expression as the prince’s handsome eyebrows tensed almost pleadingly before smoothing out. It was an exchange that lasted only a moment, but it struck a tightly strung chord in Daniel as Samuel let out a weary sigh.
“I wish my siblings and I could trade our roles,” Samuel admitted, shrugging loosely and smoothing his hair with a graceful hand. “Jacob would happily play king if Joshua gave him the title. He has so much respect from our people as it is, and I know they would feel secure under his rule. Joshua could keep his affairs inside the castle the way he prefers…or perhaps his duties could take him to neighboring kingdoms and he could gain their favor that way. He’s sweet with his words when he wants to be. His diplomacy could take us far.”
“I suppose that would leave you to switch duties with your sister the princess,” Daniel joked. He watched curiously as Samuel’s face flickered with what looked like the beginnings of a smile, but he quickly turned his face towards the shadowy corner of the room that slept to his left.
“There is already not much difference between our positions,” Samuel carefully answered. “With my brothers in line before me and little chance of war ever knocking on our doors, what is left for me? Correspondence I do not understand, taxations I hate to enforce, audiences with counsels in languages I struggle to speak. Veronica would thrive with these responsibilities, I’m certain of it. If I could gift it to her, I would. With lace and bows.”
Daniel frowned sympathetically as the prince became lost in thought, drawing a knee up to his cheek and resting his head while Daniel watched over him and considered his perspective.
To Daniel, Samuel’s life had always seemed like the ideal hand anyone could be dealt. He had never considered the unsavory clauses in the contract of his life, and he felt almost cruel for it. The princes and princess were ever opulent and commanding when he had been in their presence, but as Daniel observed the youngest prince, he couldn’t help but think that he looked small. Vulnerable. He didn’t know that was something a prince could be.
“If there was anything I could do to change things,” Daniel began, his voice low and measured as he carefully worked through his response. “I would do that for you. For all of you. Many long for the control you wish you could shed. Forgive me for finding it strange to hear these sentiments, but I swear to never repeat them. Rest easy knowing this.”
Samuel was quiet for a minute longer before turning his eyes back on Daniel. His face was rosy and smiling in the low light. The weight of his lashes cast shadows that trickled down his cheeks.
“And may you rest easy knowing your kindness does not go unnoticed,” Samuel replied softly.
“I would be a fool to be unkind to you, Your Highness.”
“There is control you hold, Daniel, when you address me. Or have you forgotten?”
“My apologies. Samuel.”
Samuel grinned and began to scoot down under his blankets, happily bundling himself up as he beamed at Daniel across the room.
“Keep up with your kindness and someday I will let you call me Sam. Until then, you can call me your friend.”
Daniel startled while Samuel bid him a quiet goodnight and turned away from him, sinking into the mattress and sighing peacefully as Daniel’s face began to simmer with recognition. He strode around the room and extinguished the candles, pondering their conversation as he fell back into repose on his chair, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes against the needling slivers of moonlight that ventured through the curtains.
To call the prince by a nickname felt overwhelming. Their friendship washed over him in cold waves, and he choked on its implications until the hours of the early morning. The thing that truly worried him was not the weight of their comradery. It was the fact that he wanted more.
-
“You amuse me, Daniel.”
“For what reason is it tonight?”
“Months now you’ve watched over me in my chambers and yet you still sit so far from me.”
“Is that not the purpose of my presence?”
Samuel grinned impishly at Daniel’s back as he kept it turned to allow Samuel to put on his nightclothes without audience. At first, Daniel had waited outside as he dressed, but now they had picked up a habit of Samuel having Daniel follow him directly from the parlor after dinner and making him face the wall patiently while they chatted. Which Daniel did with no qualms, of course, but that didn’t mean his neck and ears didn’t flush with anxious heat as he thought of the prince undressing within arms length of him. Even in nightclothes, Samuel was always covered head to toe, leaving much to the imagination. Daniel had begun to admit to himself that he imagined more than he found suitable for someone in his position, and it filled him with deep, dark guilt.
“You are exceedingly tall, I do not worry about you getting to the window in record time if the occasion arose,” Samuel hummed as he buttoned his shirt. “Your legs would carry you quickly.”
“Where would you prefer me to keep my station, then?” Daniel asked, somewhat nervous.
“Sit in the chair beside my bed,” Samuel demanded coolly, flouncing over to his bed and taking a moment to run his fingers over the red velvet chair that sat near where his head would soon lay. Daniel met his eye with a look of level headed surprise, but Samuel only smiled innocently as he cracked his neck and crawled under the covers. Daniel hesitated, but started his stride to the spot beside the bed despite it. Samuel frowned and held up a hand well acquainted with attitude.
“Ah, my candles?” the prince requested sharply, rolling his wrist to gesture at them. Daniel froze once more, waiting until Samuel made a little “shoo” motion to do his round around the room to extinguish them, feeling that same panicked warmth beginning to twist his stomach into confused knots. This change of routine was odd, but wasn’t the entire situation? Perhaps there was nothing to be divined from Samuel’s sudden appeal.
In the bed, Samuel watched Daniel as happily as he always did when he bowed to his every demand. His happiness was layered with a familiar, often caged stirring that he also felt when watching his loyal guard. He had decided a week in advance that it would not be left caged much longer. Samuel tried not to betray his excitement and contradictory apprehension as Daniel turned back to him and their eyes met.
“Oh, the day that I’ve had,” Samuel lamented as Daniel approached him and cautiously sat down, already feeling shaky from the proximity. “I’ve begun to think I’m unwell from all the worrying I’ve done.”
“You’ve looked well enough,” Daniel offered optimistically.
“I don’t feel well,” Samuel groaned, dramatically smacking the back of his hand against his forehead. “Tell me, Daniel, do I feel warm?”
With the small amount of moonlight peering in, Daniel was able to see the prince’s glittering, expectant eyes looking up at him as he removed his hand and seemingly waited for Daniel to replace it with his own.
“I’m not permitted to touch any member of your family unless it were under emergency circumstances,” Daniel explained clearly. “But I can tell you that if I were to, I wouldn’t expect to feel any warmth that would warrant concern.”
“Daniel,” Samuel whined, playing with the intonation of his name in a hushed, low voice that sent a refreshing chill through Daniel. “Tell me, who do you see in this room? It’s only me, isn’t it? And I have no reason to make a report of any kind when I’m the one requesting your aid. Now, would you please?”
Fighting to keep steady, Daniel placed a careful hand on the prince’s forehead. Samuel closed his eyes at the contact and smiled with such pride it bordered on lechery.
“You feel very normal,” Daniel appraised, allowing himself the pleasure of letting his hand rest for a moment longer than he felt was appropriate. When his muscles twitched slightly and he was reminded of just what he was doing, he went to lift his arm. However, Samuel’s hand was up in a flash to cover his own and press his palm flat against Samuel’s skin.
“Keep it there for a moment longer, if you may,” Samuel whispered. “It is the first comfort I’ve felt all day.”
“What has kept you in such a state of anguish?” Daniel asked, desperate to distract himself from the drunken feeling that was seeping into him through Samuel’s touch. His hand on Daniel’s was a reminder of his humanity, as well as the startling reality that this person Daniel tended to and thought of day in and day out was capable of not only being touched, but wanting to be touched.
“My father, as always,” Samuel griped, his eyes still closed but his dark brow crinkling in distaste. “He is hardly elderly and far from ill, and yet he’s begun to invest more and more of his time into arranging prospective brides and suitors for my siblings and I to hold an audience with. It is simply maddening, all this talk of travel and weddings.”
“You do not wish to be wed?” When Daniel asked it, he heard a glimmer of hope in his words that drove his guilt deeper through him.
“To a stranger? A stranger that I will be strung to for my entire life? A stranger who I must treat well or potentially risk breaking an allyship with an entire foreign nation? I would never wish for that. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. I’ve always wished to marry for love.”
Samuel breathed out a pitiful, longing sigh and his thumb began to massage the back of Daniel’s hand, who stared at the sight as if frozen to where he sat. It was a misplaced attempt at self soothing by the prince, Daniel decided. He decided upon it mostly to avoid further cluttering of his thoughts. And cluttered they certainly were.
“Perhaps you will find love with your princess,” Daniel offered soothingly. “Many in your position do. Besides, it’s not as if you would be able to find love with anyone within the palace walls that would be permissible for you to marry.”
“I know this,” Samuel replied darkly, suddenly bitter and sharp as his thumb ceased motion. “Am I not allowed to wish?”
“Of course you are,” Daniel replied, relenting in an instant. “I am truly sorry for-”
“No apology is necessary,” the prince cut him off. He opened his eyes and turned his doe eyed stare on Daniel. “You are right, after all. Forgive me. My headache is making me cruel.”
“You’re never cruel,” Daniel murmured. “Not to me.”
The sentiment was well placed, but ultimately untrue. In the years he had served alongside the prince, Samuel had never shied from lighting the short fuse of his temper in his presence and basking in the praise Daniel would lay upon him in an attempt to quell his tantrums. As Daniel thought about it, he thought of how it had been a while since Samuel had dealt him an outburst. Before this instance, it had to have been months. What had been subduing him?
A minute passed in silence. Samuel’s grip on Daniel’s hand weakened and for a moment, Daniel wondered if he had begun to drift into sleep. He wondered how long he could stare at the dreaming face of the sleeping prince before it felt sinful. However, Samuel let out a huff and spoke once more.
“There is so much I don’t understand,” Samuel sighed, mournful and serious. “To talk of it for hours on end has sent me spiraling. I’m nearly afraid when I think of my wedding night.”
“You should hold no fear towards it, Your Highness. I think it’s a night to look forward to. What would make it so terrible?”
“Simply that I don’t quite know what I will do when the door is closed and I am alone with my new bride. I don’t know what I will do when we are supposed to finalize our wedded duties and…consummate the union.”
Daniel felt the air leave his chest and he dearly wanted to remove himself from the room entirely as the imagery of Sam’s words began to unfurl and spin in Daniel’s mind. What made it all the more excruciating was the physical rise in temperature he felt under his palm. It sizzled somewhere inside Samuel and reached out to him. Daniel sent up a prayer begging for the prince to stop looking up at him the way he was, but it fell on deaf ears.
“I trust your advisors will arrange an education for you before the time comes,” Daniel managed to say, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “You shouldn’t worry about that at all. Think of the ceremony and-”
“I don’t trust those stuffy clods to know what happens,” Samuel continued on, glossing over Daniel’s smooth attempt to change the subject. “It will all be so clinical and calculated as their lectures always are. I will leave more inept than when I began. I’m told consorting outside of conjugal relations occurs far more frequently in the kingdom than it ever does inside the castle. If I were to be the one to decide, I would want someone of a more common class to teach. To show me.”
Daniel stared at the plain cuff of his sleeve resting against Samuel’s hair as Samuel tilted his head towards him ever so slightly, his grip on Daniel’s hand applying a pressure so light that anyone who was not so attuned to it may not have even noticed. But Daniel noticed. He noticed nothing else. He breathed only through his nose as he attempted in vain to pull his usually very clever brain out of its state of bewilderment at Samuel’s peculiar behavior.
“Perhaps you can have it your way,” Daniel answered meekly. “You could have it arranged.”
“I am permitted most things if I play my hand right, but my parents would never allow this,” Sam asserted, a slight gravel dusting his voice. “I’m certain they fear the corruption of my thoughts. They definitely fear that I’ll try to exorcise my urges with those of lower status. It may be too late for that, unfortunately for them.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you speak of,” Daniel murmured, cursing in his mind when he heard his words waver as he spoke. Samuel seemed to catch this and smiled with a feline flirt at the corners of his mouth.
“I’m sure you do,” Samuel retorted in a voice just as quiet but twice as assured. “You know which tutor I would request if I were to have things my way.”
Daniel couldn’t find any feasible way to respond to the prince’s suggestive tone. He watched with rapt attention and wide eyes as Samuel turned over onto his stomach and manually moved Daniel’s hand to cup his cheek, closing his eyes as he nuzzled into his palm before looking up at him again with lowered lids and his eyebrows nestled together in undeniable desire. Daniel swallowed thickly as a fuzzy wash of adrenaline blurred inside him at the sight. He found himself unable to look away from the prince despite it being the one thing he knew he should be doing. It didn’t cross his mind once to simply remove his hand and stand away.
As a member of the royal guard, Daniel had been trained to be highly knowledgeable and reliable for countless scenarios that could besiege him or those he swore to defend. And yet, there had been no counsel in matters of temptation, something that seemed frivolous and borderline impossible coming from the royals themselves. Temptation stared up at him now, with parted lips and artfully crafted words that had drawn him in and trapped him before he had the wherewithal to realize how far he had fallen. Daniel thought of the evening when he had told the prince that there was nothing he would not swear to him. If he denied him now, he would be breaking that vow. If he denied him now, he would be denying himself as well. Hadn’t he spent enough time doing that?
“You ask me to advise you?” Daniel questioned when he gathered the strength to speak once more. Samuel smiled, the high apple of his cheek pressing against Daniel’s palm as he leaned into it once more.
“Yes,” Samuel answered, sounding near breathless. “Consider it an education. For this evening, you will act as I will when I have my princess. I will act as the latter.”
“I…don’t know how we would go about this,” Daniel stammered, feeling his throat begin to tighten anxiously as Samuel tilted his jaw and brushed his lips under Daniel’s thumb. “This is already-”
“I’m aware of the circumstances, Daniel,” Samuel interjected, his lips buzzing against Daniel’s skin as he spoke curtly. “I have been aware of them for a while. Too long. A moment longer would feel torturous, if I’m being perfectly honest. And now I have given you this circumstance to uphold your responsibility of fulfilling royal need while also fulfilling yourself, which is a grace that I presume you have not been often given. Now would you please stop acting as though either of our titles or birthright have any kind of meaning to each other anymore and join me where I lay?”
Struck speechless, Daniel wavered for only a moment before obliging the prince as he always did and getting to his feet. In doing so, he finally ripped himself from Samuel, whose expression darkened with upset and confusion before calming as he realized that all Daniel was doing was removing his sword from its scabbard and leaning it against the wall. He unbuckled the scabbard and tossed it on the chair, remaining silent and stone faced as he usually did. Despite this, inside Daniel’s mind, he felt such overwhelming excitement and improper giddiness that it warranted this mask of calm. Samuel grinned with pure satisfaction as he made a show of throwing off the covers and sitting up, patting a space on the bed next to him. Daniel lowered himself to the mattress and stared down at the eager prince, who leaned his thigh against Daniel’s and smiled smugly.
“How wonderful to have you so close,” Samuel hummed quietly, turning his head to the side to appraise Daniel’s face through the cover of night. “You are always over my shoulder or at a distance, it seems.”
“It is not as though this is the first time you have seen me,” Daniel muttered, following Samuel’s cue to keep their voices hushed.
“It feels like it,” Samuel whispered, lifting a hesitant hand to trace the proud slope of Daniel’s freckled nose. “You are exquisite. I shall send you to my portrait painting session next week in my stead.”
“I thought we were to be discussing your education.”
“I thought I made it clear enough that “discussion” would be kept at a minimum,” Samuel rasped, leaning forward slightly and staring unabashedly at Daniel’s lips. “Must you keep playing the fool? Do you enjoy causing your prince such distress?”
“Certainly not,” Daniel answered sincerely. “But I admit I cannot help but feel a great amount of hesitation towards this…indulgence. There will be consequences.”
“There is not an earthly soul I would speak of this to,” Samuel insisted, shifting forward further so that he could place a firm hand on Daniel’s chest. “I haven’t even prayed for it. It has lived inside of me only in dreams. There is no one who would know but you and I, and it shall stay that way if you keep it from the ears of the guard.”
“The guard stands post outside your door as we speak,” Daniel reminded Samuel, leaning in as he spoke in urgency. “And he especially has sharp ears, which is why he holds the position he does.”
“The guard has been relinquished from his post for the evening,” Samuel whispered, his dark eyes sparkling wickedly with clandestine glee. “My father was informed this morning that my anxiety has been quelled enough by your presence to warrant this.”
Daniel was astonished by this admission. His eyes worked their way over Samuel’s face, which was painted with growing licentious pleasure as he continued further into the space between them. Daniel’s cheeks burned with a furious mix of shock and sudden, inexplicable appetite.
“You have made me your concubine,” Daniel seethed with searing heat of inextinguishable and undetermined source.
Samuel held his fiery stare for an agonizing amount of time before moving. Samuel’s hand on Daniel’s chest smoothed over his collarbone and shoulder before finding purchase behind his neck, where he gripped and pulled Daniel forward until their noses slid side by side and Sam’s lips fluttered against Daniel’s when they moved once more.
“I have made you my king,” Samuel hissed fiercely, his words rushing over each other as they spilled out. “I have languished over you, an act truly unbecoming of a prince, wouldn’t you say? I spend every day mourning your absence and every night gratified by your presence. Do not dare speak of my feelings towards you when you know so little of their depths, Daniel.”
“Surely you can’t have ‘felt’ this way for long.”
“Since the day of my 18th birthday and you knelt and swore your life to my family. To me. You looked up from your knee and I have not known peace since. From that day on, you have stayed at my back like the sun on my skin and remained in my mind like a hymnal I cannot forget. How can you not know this? How have you not felt it?”
“How could I?”
Samuel let out a frustrated breath and removed his grip from Daniel’s neck, sitting back slightly and petulantly pushing his hands against Daniel’s chest in annoyance. A breath of bottled relief trembled from Daniel’s throat as he watched Samuel’s tantrum, unresponsive to the prince’s irritation as he attempted in vain to absorb all of his revelations. The warmth of Samuel’s face against his own was still at the forefront of his mind, where Daniel was certain it was never to stray.
“How could you not feel it? Half of my days are spent trying to catch your eye. Did you think I only meant to distract you from your surveillance?” Samuel snapped.
“It is what is accomplished in doing so. You have always been terribly distracting,” Daniel confessed. It felt wrong to say, but Samuel’s expression lifted ever so slightly and Daniel watched his pout rise to a delighted, slightly smug smile.
“As are you,” Samuel responded. His hands on Daniel’s chest relaxed and he suddenly seemed shy of their presence against the linen. He gingerly curled his fingers into his palm for only a moment before flattening them and smoothing the wrinkles in the fabric dotingly.
“Why do you think I mean to shift my duties when my brother comes to power? There is no time for them when my head is filled with such dreams,” Samuel murmured wistfully. His brow was still knit as if in the throes of his grievance, but his voice was newly bashful. Daniel, slowly becoming emboldened by Samuel’s words as well as being blinded to the reality that lay outside the door, finally found the strength to reach for the prince. His hand rose and allowed a single finger to remove a stray wave of mahogany hair from Samuel’s cheek and tuck it behind his ear. Samuel froze at the contact and stared up at Daniel in wonder.
“You keep saying you have these dreams that torment you so,” Daniel began, continuing to push back the prince’s hair with a gentle hand. “And yet you’ve told me nothing. Please…tell me.”
Samuel looked at him longingly for a second more before leaning into Daniel again, his arms going around his neck and Daniel’s own impulsively moving to Samuel’s waist. There was a flurry of reflex and motion as Daniel clumsily pushed himself back further onto the mattress and the prince ended up on his lap, clinging to Daniel wildly as his lips went to his ear. In order to speak, he resisted the urge to bite.
“It matters little if I’m asleep or sitting on the throne. In these dreams, we are far from dynasty and these ridiculous rules that keep me from you now,” Samuel purred, his longing tone sending nettles of adrenaline biting at Daniel’s insides.
“We ride horses during our days and sit beside one another for meals, with no qualms of hierarchy to keep us apart. Then, at night, we make love like the Greeks.”
Samuel’s sentence ended in a heavy, drawn out whisper that echoed in Daniel’s ear. Samuel drew back slightly to observe the way Daniel’s eyes fluttered shut and his lips pressed to allow a shaky swallow pass through his throat. Daniel’s long, wide hands held the length of the prince’s hips, and Samuel enjoyed the flicker of unintentional pressure that pulsed through Daniel’s fingers.
Daniel’s face was tense with emotion and thought but entirely unreadable. Samuel’s body became alight with nerves as he worried himself into a stupor that he had done what he was so scared of doing, which was driving his beloved guard away from him and all of his heavy, silly feelings. He knew he had come on strong, but he hadn’t been able to conceive of a way where he could tell Daniel what he thought and not tell him absolutely everything.
“I have known you all my life, Samuel, and yet I am realizing there is so little I know about you,” Daniel finally said. There was a dreamy fascination to his deep voice that made Samuel’s nerves flutter again, but in a different sort of way. Daniel’s head tilted and one black eyebrow arched as he regarded Samuel, and Samuel felt his hips tightening involuntarily as he fought not to adjust himself on Daniel’s lap.
“Even after all the time we’ve spent in these chambers when you were meant to be resting and I was meant to be alert, it seems there is much about you I’ve never known. You enjoy little deceptions is what I have realized just now, hearing you speak this way to me.”
Samuel’s eyebrows raised listening to Daniel. Part of it was the haughty royal blood running through his veins beginning to boil at the audacity of someone daring to call him out, but another part of it that was well acquainted with this royal attitude was secretly thrilled that he was being seen by Daniel.
“If your sexual education has been so lackluster it warrants guidance with hands and not quills to parchment, you would not know of the Greeks and their habits,” Daniel pointed out with the beginnings of a smile. “Certainly not enough to fantasize about it day and night. It makes me wonder about what other little lies have brought me to you in this way.”
With all his years of repression and dissatisfaction, Samuel found his mouth hanging open as he panted with anticipation, his needy hands coming up to clutch Daniel’s slightly stubbled jaw and tilt it to align with his own. Samuel needed more than anything to kiss him, but Daniel spoke again before he could strike.
“May I ask one thing?” Daniel requested with a voice so gravelly and soft it could not be heard even mere inches away from where they clung to each other.
If either of them had been paying attention to anything besides the feeling of the other’s erratic heartbeats joining where their chests rested only centimeters apart, they may have realized this was the first occasion where Daniel had requested something of Samuel. A subtle reclamation of power that would aid him in hours to come.
“You may,” Samuel permitted.
“I took post in your room because of a dream so intense that you spoke of it to the king and insisted that I was your only reprieve. Were there really any ever nightmares of assassins? Or when you spoke of intensity, were you speaking of these dreams you’ve just told me of?”
Samuel leaned back to gaze at him fully, anchoring himself with his hands still on Daniel’s face as Daniel’s hazel eyes kept post on Samuel’s mouth, awaiting an answer in whatever form it came.
“No nightmares,” Samuel breathed, feeling rare shame as he admitted it. “I only find nightmares when I think of my life as it is planned out for me, the same way I find dreams when I think of life as I have planned it for myself. When speaking falsely of nightmares, I secretly spoke these dreams to life. At least, I hope I did. Do you suppose I did?”
“Perhaps,” Daniel answered mysteriously. “But we’re not in that realm of reality right now, are we? I recall your ‘lesson’ for this evening was that I was to play the prince and you were to play my princess. Or do you not want that anymore?”
Samuel’s last string of restraint holding him back snapped and he used his grip on Daniel’s jaw to pull their lips together and melt into the desperate, fiery kiss he had dreamed of since the day they had met. Samuel’s lower back reacted innately and arched lightly at the contact, and Daniel’s fingers dug into his clothed skin as they moved together in awkward, blissful harmony.
While they kissed, Samuel’s mind was following the plots of a hundred, preplanned daydreams that all ended in similar fates of him tangled in bedsheets. Daniel’s mind, on the other hand, was entirely blank. His mind couldn’t begin to paint pictures when his focus was kept solely on the shivering, heavy breathing royal that bruised his lips and pulled at the thick hair nearest his scalp.
“Call me that again,” Samuel begged breathlessly when they had no choice but to break for a breath of fresh air. “Call me what I am in your arms.”
“I will do whatever you ask of me,” Daniel sighed, one hand smoothing down Samuel’s thigh and holding the back of it. “My princess.”
Samuel, betraying the lasting legacy of his intimidating, affluent ancestry, burst into flushed giggles and buried his face in the crook of Daniel’s neck. Daniel let out an airy little laugh of his own and nuzzled his nose into the silken hair by Samuel’s ear.
“My funny little princess,” Daniel hummed. “Spoiled, funny little princess who loves to deceive. I’m left unconvinced you’re prepared for the ways of the Greeks, so I’ll count that as another deceit.”
“No fair,” Samuel lamented, his voice muffled by Daniel’s linen tunic. “Don’t you think we should try nonetheless?”
“As your advisor, I must recommend we begin on a much smaller scale,” Daniel whispered, planting a kiss against Samuel’s hair and squeezing his waist. “We’ll start with having you lay down. Simple enough.”
“I do not want ‘simple’,” Samuel whined further, swinging his leg off of Daniel’s lap and theatrically dropping sideways to land with his head on the pillow. “But I suppose I will be willing to postpone such extremities of the body if it is what you suggest.”
“You are too gracious,” Daniel teased lightly. He took the time to slip off his shoes and then turned to carefully crawl over the prince, still feeling an immense sense of wrongness at making contact with the expensive quilts and sheets. He felt that all too familiar sliver of panic and unease being so close to the prince. However, the returning awareness of the precariousness of the evening quickly faded as Daniel’s face came to hover over Samuel’s, who stared up at him with naivety and his bottom lip tucked gently between his teeth. A sight like this was enough to remind Daniel that he would risk losing his head if it meant getting to see Samuel like this for even a single second more.
“You have me laying now,” Samuel whispered, his cool hands rising to hold Daniel’s jaw once more. “What would be the next course of action?”
“I suppose I…” Daniel trailed off nervously, his eyes fluttering as he looked down the graceful throat of the prince and followed it down to the pearl buttons of his nightshirt. “I would undress you.”
“Proceed then,” Samuel grinned giddily. “We are lucky indeed I have no petticoats and corsets for you to strip me of.”
“You will certainly struggle more than I on your wedding night,” Daniel murmured as he hesitantly began to undo the buttons of Samuel’s shirt. His breath came in sharp shivers as the thoughts of Samuel with another person came in stride with the unveiling of the prince’s smooth skin under his hands.
“I will struggle because it will not be you I’m with,” Samuel replied with a frown, looking down at Daniel sitting back on his lap to finish undoing the last of the buttons and pushing the thin fabric off of his shoulders and tossing it onto the floor. Samuel took in a shaky breath when Daniel’s fingers hovered along his waistband, but he watched with curiosity as Daniel’s face flickered with conflicted emotion before removing his hands and bowing his head to press a kiss to the bony crest of Samuel’s collarbones, who received the touch with a smothered sound of surprise. Daniel continued kissing along his collarbones and chest, taking a pause in his journey to flatten his tongue over the prince’s nipples, looking up to gauge his reaction and seeing only the underside of Samuel’s jaw as he tossed his head back against the pillow and whimpered.
“You are exceedingly sensitive,” Daniel noted calmly, beginning a slow descent past Samuel’s ribcage and down his toned stomach. “Is it forbidden to touch yourself before you’re wed?”
“It’s a sin!” Samuel exclaimed, propping himself up on his elbows to face Daniel properly, who looked amused by his sudden outburst. “It is no conjugal matter. You mean to say you do?”
“Who is there to see it happen?”
“God!”
“If He was so insistent on punishing me for a sin as egregious as you make it seem, He would not have blessed me with such ecstasy as you,” Daniel whispered, keeping his eyes on the flushed prince as he kissed just under his belly button. Samuel let out an unbelieving huff of air, allowing one hand to weave itself in the raven dark curls of Daniel’s hair as he shook his head.
“I have laid with a devil,” Samuel muttered, a little breathless as Daniel’s sharp, freckled nose dragged along his skin. Daniel chuckled softly and the hot breath on Samuel’s skin drew another involuntary noise from Samuel, causing him to cringe slightly with embarrassment.
“There is no part of this exchange that is free from what others may define as ‘sin’, fair prince,” Daniel remarked. “But ‘sin’ is only what we make of it. I fear it is often confused with pleasure, which is, in truth, the farthest thing from what I find sinful. But if you so desire, we can pray after all is said and done.”
“I will decide then,” Samuel insisted, trying hard not to pant as Daniel’s chin pressed against his waistband. “As for now…”
“Ah, yes, your lesson,” Daniel smiled, sitting up once more. “Now, when the time comes, matters of anatomy will be quite different, I hope you know.”
“You think yourself funny,” Samuel groaned, rolling his eyes. “I know quite well.”
“A skilled teacher always checks,” Daniel joked, his fingers now ghosting over the raised lap of the prince. “A pity, truly, that you will not be met with the beauty I know lies under my hand now.”
Samuel flushed and watched with the heartrate of a hummingbird in flight as Daniel looped his thumbs and began to slowly tug down Samuel’s pants. Before his straining member could meet the cold night air, Samuel found himself reaching out and grasping Daniel’s wrists, who looked at him with a startled expression and rosy cheeks.
“Do you not think the princess would attend to her prince first?” Samuel asked hurriedly, trying not to sound desperate and finding himself unsuccessful as Daniel’s eyebrow arched curiously. Daniel blinked once before smiling slowly and looking down at where Samuel held him by the arm.
“I suppose it would matter whether the princess felt the obligation,” Daniel started, flicking his forest eyes back up to Samuel’s before finishing his thought. “Or if she felt the want. There is a world of difference between the two sentiments.”
“She would want to,” Samuel answered, releasing his grip on Daniel and leaning in slightly to deliver a look of insistence. “This, I swear. The prince would be crazed to think otherwise.”
“I always feel crazed in your presence, it cannot be helped,” Daniel breathed. He sealed the distance between them with another fervent kiss before pulling back and getting off of the bed, standing tall as a cliff’s face in comparison to the seated prince, who stared up in wonder as Daniel began to remove his shirt.
“Well, I could have helped with that,” Samuel complained with a pout. Daniel laughed and fully pulled his top off, revealing his broad shoulders and a dark scattering of hair across his toned chest. Samuel’s pout quickly fell at the sight, his dark eyes widening ever so slightly as another one of his dreams came to fruition before his very eyes. Daniel shrank slightly under his gaze as he usually did, but after Samuel reached out mindlessly to brush his fingers against the muscles of his stomach, Daniel found some confidence stored deep inside.
“If you had helped, you would have dawdled,” Daniel accused, tossing his hair off his shoulder with a flex of his neck as he began to unbutton his simple black pants. “And I trust my princess would want her spoils sooner rather than later, would she not?”
Samuel only nodded in response, feeling incapable of answering with words that would keep him anywhere close to his princely status. Daniel smiled at him fondly as he allowed his pants to fall, leaving him in only his undershorts, which kept his now distracting erection barely covered as it left its outline along the thin, white fabric. Spoiled as ever, Samuel had a hand on it the moment it was freed. He gave one, slow, curious stroke of his hand, allowing soft skin to slide along his palm and wrenching a fluttering groan from the back of Daniel’s throat at the sensation and sight. Daniel inhaled sharply as Samuel���s jaw hung open, staring unabashedly at the length.
“I will admit I now understand your urgings to proceed with caution,” Samuel stammered. “I will no doubt require an…adjustment period.”
“I will see to it personally,” Daniel purred, taking hold of Samuel’s chin and raising his eyebrows at him encouragingly. “But we mustn’t worry about that tonight. There is much to be done if we are to beat the sunrise.”
Daniel prepared himself to return to the bed, but before he had the chance to move, Samuel dipped his head to purse his lips against the flushed head of Daniel’s cock, leaving a chaste kiss and wrenching a strained groan from Daniel’s throat. The hand on Samuel’s chin swam swiftly into his hair, holding him still so that Daniel was pulled forward into the hot velvet of Samuel’s mouth. Emitting a slight gag, Samuel looked up with watery eyes as he panted around Daniel’s length, finally dragging his tongue along the underside of it and feeling butterflies of affirmation as Daniel’s head fell backwards with a sigh.
After a few minutes of cautious soothing with his lips and tongue, Samuel leaned back, wiping a small stream of spit off his chin with the heel of his palm.
“Is this alright?” Samuel asked with a slight crack in his voice.
“If it’s not enjoyable for you, you can use your hand,” Daniel instructed through shallow breaths. “Or we can turn attention to you, if you think-”
Samuel answered him by returning his mouth to Daniel’s cock, smiling when he breathed in and allowed further passage into his throat. Daniel resisted the urge to toss his head and stare up at the gracious stars to thank them for bringing him here. Instead, he kept his eyes on the prince and his eager if adorably clumsy pace, enjoying the slow bob of his head as he suckled gently.
“Have you practiced this often in those dreams of yours, Samuel?” Daniel rasped, feeling disappointingly close to finishing. He wanted to stretch this perfect blue night as long as he possibly could before it felt entirely greedy. With his mouth still firmly attached, Samuel gave a slow nod, his head pushing forwards and back with the motion of it and causing Daniel’s eyes to roll into his head reflexively. He thought of Samuel sleeping mere feet from him for months on end dreaming of occasions such as this and reveled privately at the thrill it gave him. Daniel felt almost powerful, and found himself thrusting into the prince’s mouth, who responded with whimpering gags and tears beginning to glimmer in his pale waterline. Had it been only an hour ago, Daniel would have dropped to his knees in a moment at the sight of Samuel in tears. But now, he found it shockingly erotic.
“You’ve practiced well,” Daniel breathed, nearly unable to speak as all of his senses became lost in the warmth of Samuel’s mouth. “You betray your “innocence” again with your knowledge.”
The prince’s gaze met Daniel’s as he slowly pulled off of him and Daniel registered an amused flicker in the amber of Samuel’s eyes. To Daniel’s surprise, Samuel had no snappy retort to deal in retaliation. Samuel simply kept his eyes firmly on Daniel as he steadied his breathing through flushed, swollen lips and nuzzled his cheek against Daniel’s cock.
“My apologies,” Samuel finally rasped with a creeping smile. “If you were anyone else, you would understand the lengths that someone would go to get you close.”
“How close would you like to be?” Daniel teased, heart racing so fast he feared it would burst before he got to unwrap his regal present entirely.
“Closer,” whispered the prince, turning inwards to deliver one last kiss to Daniel’s erection before rising to his feet and pressing their bare chests together. “Much closer. Deeper.”
“I told you to wait for that,” Daniel grinned against Samuel’s lips, which were brushing against his as the prince’s hands grasped his exposed waist and smoothed up and over his ribs. Under Samuel’s graceful fingers, Daniel’s skin was as soft and hot as the first rays of sunlight on Samuel’s pillow in the mornings. The prince swallowed thickly at the sensation, losing himself for a moment at the thought of greeting Daniel in his undressed state between sun warmed sheets.
“I don’t want to wait,” Samuel grumbled for the millionth time as he spoke into Daniel’s mouth.
It was clear he was beyond sullen that he wouldn’t be getting the Grecian love he had so hoped for, and while Daniel always found Samuel’s persistence and lamenting overwhelmingly endearing, there was a flicker of irritation inside him at having to repeat himself so frequently. There was so much of him that was still terrified to speak sharply to the prince, but then he became assured in the remembrance that this evening was free of consequence for him. Daniel’s hand snaked around the small of Samuel’s back and drew Sam even closer at his request, keeping Daniel’s member trapped between them in a self made chamber of warmth and reactive muscles.
“When you stand as I do, you will have just as little tolerance for any incessant needling from your princess,” Daniel murmured in a firm hush as he watched Samuel’s eyes widen from his words and the new presence pressed against his stomach. “You will respect my authority on this matter, do you understand me? You will wait and you will air no more grievances about it.”
“I understand,” Samuel answered hurriedly, his voice as weak as Daniel could ever imagine but his tone was enthusiastic in a way that spilled over into the shaking urgency of his hands as they dug into Daniel’s flesh and pulled him into a steamy kiss. Samuel followed an instinct and opened his mouth against Daniel’s to dip his tongue in, whimpering softly when he felt Daniel smile. Enveloped in warmth, Samuel needed more.
“Daniel,” Samuel whined as Daniel’s mouth traveled across his cheek and along his jaw. “Lay with me. Test my patience no more.”
Instead of answering with a sharp tongued quip like he wanted to, Daniel bowed to his whim and placed a firm hand on Samuel’s chest to gently push him backwards onto the plush mattress. He, too, could wait no longer. With eyes closed and tongues shyly lapping at each other, they managed to maneuver themselves under the blankets and Samuel went as limp as a rag doll to assist Daniel with sliding his pajama pants off. With them both entirely exposed, Daniel lowered himself further down onto Samuel’s body and grinned wickedly against Samuel’s lips when the prince sighed into his mouth at the relief of their skin touching so solidly. Without even meaning to, Daniel’s hips reacted and gently ground into Samuel’s own narrow hips, jolting Daniel with a silken electricity that reminded him that he had neglected to get a good look at the prince’s own erection.
“Look at you, princess mine,” Daniel rumbled with a smile, straightening to sit with his knees pressing against the backs of Samuel’s thighs and admire the sight before him. “Divine, are you not? There’s no breath left in my chest.”
Samuel simply stared up at him as he panted for air, his eyes alight with a greedy gleam and his thick hair already frazzled and clinging to his neck and cheeks in sweaty rivulets. He looked desperate and, for the first time, wholly unroyal. With Daniel’s hand between them, they made eye contact and Daniel was struck by Samuel’s needy humanity. Daniel curled his wrist over Samuel’s slim cock a few times as he glided his fist from shaft to tip, which wrenched out a chesty groan from behind Samuel’s clenched teeth. But knowing what he knew about Samuel, he abandoned that venture quickly in favor of another proper demonstration. Samuel answered this with a frustrated outcry, grabbing at Daniel’s hand to attempt to replace it from where he’d removed it, but Daniel pulled away. He was to be Samuel’s teacher, after all. There was no time to waste.
“As I said prior, there will be a difference in anatomy,” Daniel explained breathlessly, skimming his hands up and down Samuel’s slim thighs. “I will attempt to remedy this to the best of my ability to aid in my teaching.”
“Please,” Samuel weakly responded. “Hurry. You torture me.”
“You are theatrical,” Daniel teased, guiding Samuel’s legs so his thighs pressed together and were drawn halfway up to his chest. “This will be far from torturous.”
Samuel propped himself up on his elbows and scrutinized the odd position Daniel was holding him in with his dark eyebrows drawn together and his flushed lip in a pout.
“Most unusual,” Samuel commented snidely. “And how would you say this-”
Before Samuel could continue his chiding comment, Daniel rose slightly and pressed the tip of his dick between Samuel’s thighs, clamping them together impossibly tighter around his length as he slid it along the supple furnace of the prince’s skin. In doing so, he found that when buried to the hilt between the prince’s thighs, he was sliding alongside Samuel’s own flushed cock. They both sighed moans of appreciation at the touch and Daniel flexed his hips backward to retrieve himself from Sam, pulling out entirely only to spit in his palm, soothe the saliva over his cock, and then return it to the valley he’d created for himself and their aching lengths.
“God,” Samuel whimpered through a shivering groan. “You are His mercy.”
“Is it too much?” Daniel worried as he struggled to halt the quickening pace he was setting for himself. Samuel let out a harsh bray of a laugh and his head fell back.
“Not enough,” Samuel complained haughtily, tensing his thighs and making Daniel swallow a squeak at the ecstasy of tight muscle. “Are you always so gentle?”
“Would you prefer me to not be gentle?” Daniel asked with an arched brow, leaning further over Samuel so that the tips of their noses were touching. “Consider it a test of what you’ve learned thus far, and since you know so much already, your Majesty, I expect you to answer correctly. Tell me: what would the princess most prefer?”
“He’d prefer it faster,” Samuel whispered, wearing a mischievous smile and daring to reach out his rosy tongue and lick across Daniel’s bottom lip. “Much faster.”
“He?” Daniel questioned with amusement, his tensed hips aching for movement but feeling unwilling to give the palace brat what he wanted too quickly.
“He,” Samuel confirmed, his own brow arching in a mockery of Daniel’s. “There will be no princess but I. I’m going to steal you away before they even get the chance to try and find me one. You have my word on that.”
“Steal me away to ride horses and sit side by side?” Daniel echoed with a cocky grin of his own, stealing Samuel’s words from when he’d been sat in his lap.
“Yes,” Samuel giggled in affirmation. “Not only that. We can watch the sun set over the hills. I could even sleep in your arms. Perhaps we’ll do all of those things for a very long time.”
Daniel’s stomach tensed in a different way then, twisting with longing so strong that he felt his heart reaching for Samuel’s own as their chests hovered over the other. They stared at each other for a moment that seemed to reach so long that it sent them out of time and space; into their own pocket of the world where seconds passed so slowly that they had nothing to do but study the face of the man they were beginning to love.
“I would like that,” Daniel replied softly. “Very much.”
“Wonderful,” Sam smiled, hands coming to rest on Daniel’s jaw. “Don’t forget to make love to me first. Or have you forgotten?”
“How could I?” Daniel purred, drawing his hips back and then forward so he could slide up against Samuel’s cock nice and slow. “When you feel this good? Never.”
The prince replied with a broken moan and cried out when Daniel began to thrust enthusiastically, fucking his thighs and member subsequently as Daniel’s ragged breaths moistened his lips and sent his head spinning. Samuel reached as best he could from his position and his state of mind to pull the covers up higher over Daniel’s waist and back, adding lustrous fabric and humidity that dewed on their skin deliciously. The friction, the weight of Daniel all over him, the drip of sweat into his mouth and rolling along his chest, the untouchable high of getting what he wanted…
Samuel was drunk.
Struck dumb.
And, in a moment’s time, cumming hard and hot on his stomach with his eyes rolled into his head and his nails digging into his guard’s shoulders. Daniel took note of it immediately, unable to look away from the mess the prince had made for them both to enjoy. He watched it trickle and glide against the flush of his own erection, providing a delicious new sensation as his thrusts grew erratic to signal the beginning of the end.
“Sam,” Daniel choked out, letting out a follow up gasp before coming to a shaky halt and spilling into the pool of cum that Samuel had already made. Samuel went entirely slack and sunk against the pillow and mattress, uncharacteristically calm and quiet as Daniel’s arms struggled to hold him up any longer and his breaths punched out in raspy huffs.
Blindly, Samuel reached out to the side and pulled a richly embroidered handkerchief from the pocket of the pajama shirt he’d long abandoned in favor of his carnal lesson. Ever the prince, he weakly held it up for Daniel, who took it from him with a chuckle and laboriously wiped down Samuel’s stomach. Samuel plucked it from his fingers and dramatically tossed it to the side, into the dark of the room that seemed to rematerialize around Daniel for the first time in what felt like ages. With his head clear and his dick softening, he remembered where he was done. What he’d just done.
And then, before he began to spiral in the expanse of reality crashing down on him, Daniel felt a tender hand reaching for the soft hair at his temple and fingers sliding against his scalp soothingly. He looked back down at the prince and was overwhelmed by his beauty; Samuel with his half lidded eyes and ruddy cheeks seemed to be somehow glowing as Daniel drank in the sight of him. His prince. Samuel’s dreamy smile lingered as he stared into Daniel’s dark eyes, expression slowly growing somber and contemplative as he continued to trace loving rows through the waves at Daniel’s right temple.
“Daniel,” Samuel breathed, his devotion as evident as if his name were a prayer. “Get me out of here.”
Daniel inhaled steadily, the heavy blanket of protectiveness he harbored towards his little prince bearing down on him then like the hand of justice choosing him as its weapon. At first he said nothing, instead leaning down and pressing an impassioned kiss against Samuel’s accepting lips. He let the kiss stretch on, welcoming the quiet warmth of Samuel’s tongue in his mouth and humming at the comfort. Then they parted and Daniel spoke, his vow relayed in a low and serious tone.
“I swear,” Daniel promised. “Soon these will be all our nights. This, I swear.”
After a few minutes of convincing, Daniel agreed to settle into the bed and hold the prince until he fell asleep. Daniel kept him flush against his chest and waited what seemed to be only a moment or two until Samuel was breathing steadily, his closed eyes darting around in a dream. Daniel couldn’t resist kissing his sleeping face with featherlight touch and tracing the bridge of his nose as Samuel had done to him earlier in the night. Silently vowing again that someday soon, Samuel would wake up in one of his dreams, where Daniel would be waiting with open arms and a racing heart. Daniel would honor the promise he’d made to his prince time and time again and deliver exactly what Samuel demanded of him.
No matter the consequences.
~~~
#huzzah#gvf#greta van fleet#danny wagner#sam kiszka#karoufiction#greta van fleet fanfiction#gvf fic#greta van fleet fic
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Euphemia and James - Writer's Notes
Earlier this year I wrote a fic titled "Euphemia and James," a story exploring Euphemia Potter and infertility. This is the most deeply personal story I've ever written, and it took a few weeks to write it because of the emotions it stirred up for me, but honestly, being able to write this took years of processing emotions. I decided to share some of my notes on this fic in this post, and it includes this lovely cover image from @livelaughlovetoread. This story is also unique in that it's written in second person POV. It wasn't intended to come out that way, but that's how it came out. See below the image for my notes:
Euphemia and James came from these lines from the extra-canonical writings on Pottermore/whatever they call it these days:
"[Fleamont] sold the company at a vast profit when he retired, but no amount of riches could compensate him or his wife Euphemia for their childlessness. They had quite given up hope of a son or daughter when, to their shock and surprise, Euphemia found that she was pregnant and their beloved boy, James, was born."
If you don't know anything about infertility, I envy you somewhat. Studies have shown that a diagnosis or experience of infertility is similar to receiving a cancer diagnosis or losing a close loved one. It took me a while to realize that a lot of the feelings I had surrounding infertility was actually grief and mourning.
So, I put it all into this fic. There are a few points I want to highlight, if you decide to read the fic or want to see some lines, and my feelings around it all:
"When you meet Fleamont Potter a year into your job at the apothecary, you have no intention of marrying him."
I more or less shamelessly wrote Euphemia and Fleamont's relationship to be similar to mine with Mr C. In fact, Mr C aka @rawr-gorg-smash read this work and we were both sobbing messes by the end of it.
"It will happen when it happens, they say. It will come when you least expect it, they say. That’s what everyone says, and you’re ready to punch the next person in the face who tells you to just “relax.”"
Infertile people will get advice like this frequently. It's meant to be helpful or sometimes soothing, I think, but all too often it's an empty hope. Sometimes, bodies just don't work right, no matter how much relaxing you do.
"It’s not polite to ask. Everyone knows where magical, adopted children come from. They are Muggleborn children who are delicately extracted from their birth homes and replaced with Squibs, or sometimes not replaced at all."
This part is world building by me - the idea of adoption in a magical world seemed odd to me. How would infertile magical couples adopt if they can't use potions or charms? I wouldn't put it past them to just take a Muggleborn child, modify memories, and go. I won't touch on real world adoption-there's a lot to unpack there-but this idea gave me some thoughts on magical adoption.
"It seems selfish to want more, when you already have so much. You question, for the first time in your life, if you really want a child."
I have heard people say things to this effect: it's so selfish to want your 'own' children or to want children and bring them into this world, or some variation of that. If this is what you believe, you and I are going to disagree and I'm not going to try to convince you otherwise. But it's something I and many other infertile people have considered. The thing is, people have had children and will continue to have children throughout terrible periods of time. Does it make sense? Not necessarily. Human actions don't always make sense. To me, though, it speaks of hope. Hope for a better tomorrow, for a world that we will build that will be better for the next generation.
"Now you wish for a living child. There are no longer any expectations on your baby or the kind of person they’ll be. You want a living, breathing baby in your arms you can dote on, educate, feed, and guide through life."
I'll say that one of the few silver linings of infertility for me has been re-grounding my expectations of what kind of child I might have. It once was wishing for a boy or girl, or a kid who likes to read, or a kid who won't be into extreme sports, but now it's just a kid I want. I want to love them because they exist. That's all.
"It’s a shame that you only got nineteen years with your son, the one you wished had been born twenty years prior, so you could treasure twice as long with him."
One of my fears for having children later in life is not having enough time with them. Then again, young parents die. Even children die. If nothing else, whatever time I do have, I hope I use it to love whatever family I have to the fullest.
That's all I have for now. If you made it this far, read the fic, commented on it, left kudos, or a bookmark, thank you very kindly for your time. Of all the things I've written, this felt most like putting a piece of my heart into the world.
#euphemia potter#fleamont potter#james potter#euphemia x fleamont#cw infertility#infertility#cw pregnancy#pregnancy
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From pressured to driven Part 2
What happens when you feel pressured to do something you never thought you'd do?
Especially if 4 serial killers are the ones pressuring you.
Slight ronin x reader
| spoilers for Killer chat!!! This is part two of "From pressured to driven". As always, my writing sucks so its probably Ooc. I have no idea if i want to continue with more parts, but hey who knows.
TW: Mention of murder, going insane, light gore, SA?(forced kissing)
PSA: I don't support neither am i trying to glorify/Normalize the words mentioned above. SA should be taken serious and it is not meant to be joked around.
Part 1:
You were walking around, searching for any "victims" to kill whilst trying not to freak out by the amount of corpses were in the alley. Damm, you knew Ronin liked going on killing sprees, but this much? If you counted every corpse you have walked past, it would be already above the 20. It didn't feel right, seeing all those unfortunate souls all on the ground, but you also couldn't help continue searching because before you know you are one going to become one of them if they find out.
*Ding!*
A notification?
Dear Reader,
I heard that you were writing a book, which is pretty interesting so my congratulations for that one.
moving on, one of our best reporters, Greg, has unfortunately resigned.
So my question to you is if you are able to make five new articles before the clock hits midnight. I expect at least two articles, but my apologies if this has come to you late, but if you are able to do it, i will try my best to reduce the amount of work you already have.
I wish you the best of luck on this.
Kind regards
Your boss.
You have to be serious. Five whole articles?
Not only did you have to make five new articles, you have to find a way to pretend that you killed a person. Not only that, it was 19:21.
19:21...
Fuck.
You have 4 hours and 30 minutes before midnight. You have to find a solution, and quick. Fuck, maybe you do want to kill someone, and with someone you mean your boss or either Greg.
Greg...
Always him, the 'best' reporter in the company. Total bullshit, he was average, a total pervert even. But the fact he resigned and that you had to chase after his bullshit!?
You felt anger raising up, adrenaline rushing through your veins, the amount of stress and anger that was mixed in your body was insufferable, that if you went to a therapist, they would either send you to a mental hospital or diagnose you with whatever mental disorder is popular.
*Ding!*
Another notification..?
@BestGregg: Hey Reader! Sorry for resigning so early and sudden but i got offered a wayy better job, and i couldn't pass up on that offer. Btw make sure to finish those assignments lol and because i'm resigning, how 'bout we meet up? I mean ur kinda chill and its gonna be fun. So what do you think?
Seriously? A meet up? Who does he think he is? My dad???
@SerialMC: Uhh..
sure i guess. Can we meet up here? *Insert Purgatory location*, i'll wait for u there, I'm here with some friends but i'm sure they don't mind.
@BestGregg: Sweet, i'll be there in 10 minutes, be prepared to have the best night of ur life ;)
Not only is he a total loser, he's a total pervert too. You continued walking, your mind just being full of total bullshit right now. First, your serial killer friends want you to kill somebody, second your stupid boss wants you to write 5 articles, and third your perverted ex-coworker wants to hangout and is going to try to hit on you.
Life's been going shit these weeks, you got hit with an inspiration block which means no more idea's for your next book. You've been trying to find out on how to tell the server that you're not actually a serial killer (What will probably never happen) and now this.
You gripped the knife that you previously found tighter, resisting the urge to even throw it. You can't kill anyone, you don't want to kill anyone, but in your state, it seemed like the only solution left.
"EYY READER, WHERE ARE YOU!?"
"I have a feeling they left"
"No way, they wouldn't leave us, their friends behind, i know them."
"Hah, So they're not as tough as they seem huh?"
"Hey! Don't say that, people like us just have our own struggles. Just let us be you edgeboy"
Fuck fuck fuck.
They were searching for you, and you haven't done anything at all, and looking at the time, that stupid greg should be somewhere here now.
How the fuck did you end up in this position!? Seriously, this would've been some fun hanging out day, but it always ends up in trouble. You just wished you could bury yourself somewhere.
"Yooo Reader it's me Greg!"
How he greeted himself scared the shit out of you, you hid the knife somewhere in your jacket, so he wouldn't notice. It was pretty dark out here, but from the looks of it and how he talked seemed like he had a bit to drink.
"Oh hey.. Greg."
"Whats up with the sad face reader? Are you not happy to see me?"
"No it's just. Work and stuff.. Gotta write 5 articles.. Ha ha.."
"Awh damn, sorry reader. Didn't know i was that important to the company, i mean, being the best reporter in the department? Hell yeah!"
He continued talking about how cool, and important he was that you didn't notice that you were basically backing up into a corner because of how much he talked.
"Ohh yeah, I think you need to confess something, reader."
"Confess.. What?"
He got closer to you, basically trapping you in that corner that you went to yourself. You said you wanted to bury yourself somewhere? Guess that place is here. He leaned into your face, you could feel his intoxicated breath, it reeked of alcohol and whatever cocktails he was drinking, but he didn't seem to go away.
"Don't act stupid, i know how you've been looking at me, you like me, don't you?"
Like. Him?
You hated that man. First, he got with all your female coworkers, he's the so-called "best reporter", he acts like a total asshole, pervert, and his looks are like the devil himself tried making the ugliest person that has ever existed. Not only that, but he has so much controversy, but of course, your boss ignores it because he was a good worker.
"I don't understand? I don't like you?
"Don't be shy, i know what you want"
Before you knew it, he slammed his lips into yours, forcefully kissing you as he held you by the waist. You yelped in disgust, tears starting to form in your eyes. You hated it, you couldn't move, you felt helpless. After he was done kissing you, he looked at you with a grin and you looked terrified.
"Look, you enjoyed that didn't ya? C'monn, i know ya want more"
"And don't worry, i won't go rough on you"
Oh.
Is this your end?
No.
It is not.
You can change
Maybe they will say you became corrupted.
But was it really, if it originated from fear?
You slowly gripped the knife you hid in your jacket, and held it tight in your hand.
"You know what i want..."
You put your free hand on his chest, he leaned in, looking like he wanted to kiss you, but before you could do that, you plunged that knife right into his chest.
He screamed, but you continued. You kept stabbing him near his heart, he tried pushing you off of himself, but you were too determined to finish him. After everything he did, all you wanted to do is never see him again.
Countless screams were forming in his throat, it sounded so god awfull, but that is why it was perfect. That's what stupid, perverted good for nothing deserve. A deep plunge in the heart. At this point, you were sure the rest could've heard the screams and were probably heading your way, but you didn't care about that. For now.
You pushed his body to the ground, before gripping two hands on the handle of the knife, and plunged even harder into his chest. You dragged the knife from his chest to his intestines, before stabbing him again for countless times. You felt anger and stress slowly leave, the crimson staining you. You felt.. Weird. You did feel guilty, yes but after all he did. He deserved it. You ripped out the knife, before hearing some voices behind you.
"Oh my, So Darlin' did end up killin someone huh? And even stabbing the intestines? How gruesome, i like that"
You turned around, hearing the voices of your friends
"Oh shit... Who that guy was, he was definitely hated by them.. Look at the stab marks holy shit, reader went batshit and im here for it"
"Oh.. My, reader, how are you feeling? I don't think that guy was some ordinary guy guys.."
"... The sight is gruesome"
You laughed, you kept laughing before finally stabbing the knife into his skull. He was finally gone.
".. That guy was my ex coworker. He kept stressing me out, making flirty moves, and.. Ended up forcefully kissing me."
Angel looked at you with a mix of reassurance and a look of "I've been there", and she slowly approached you along with Misaki. Meanwhile Misaki was a bit in denial, not because of the fact that you killed him, but because what he did to you. V was crossing his arms and shaking his head, while Ronin was heading towards the guy.
".. What you did there, reader.. I, oddly relate to it. Weird creepy perverted men hitting on you while you weren't doing anything? Killing him was a good choice, reader."
Angel was quite literally an angel. She is nice, she is understanding and she can relate to anyone. You're great full you have her as a friend.
Misaki was giving you constant back pats, trying to comfort you from that guy. You noticed that she was trying to lighten the mood.
"Hey so.. That guy was a total creep, and what you did was totally valid- I mean as a pervert, what did he expect?"
You forced a laugh out of that one, it was funny but for the sake of Misaki, you cracked a laugh so that she wouldn't suspect anything. But you know she meant good, if it was up to her, she would've killed the guy in a second.
V was looking at you and the guy, sighing before muttering out a sentence.
"You finished him, not for fun or for entertainment.. But for your safety and because of fear. Not bad at all."
His words shock you, because you didn't expect him to say that at all. You didn't really speak to him, and when you did, he was always on some "I will find out who you are" shit. Guess V is able to feel some sympathy after all.
You didn't even notice the fact that Ronin was ripping apart that guy's chest to grab his heart, you were starting to hear some weird- crack and bone breaking noises, that you couldn't help but look backwards at the body to find Ronin trying to obtain the guys heart.
Eventually, Ronin had the heart in his hand, and looked at you with a smile
"Darlin', Would ya mind giving me his aorta? And it's that ugly guy's heart, which makes it 10x better. C'monn, do it for the poor little devil."
He looked at you, with that stupid little smile from the first time you kissed, the moment you began rotting and corrupting. You laughed, and took the heart. Since Ronin started talking about the Aorta that much, you decided to google search a bit just to know where it was for a moment like this (which you never actually expected to happen)
You carefully ripped some of the other pieces of the heart, accidentally deattaching the superior vena cava and some artery, but eventually you managed to remove the aorta, and handed it to Ronin.
"To my dearest devil, the one who corrupted me."
Angel looked at Ronin with a look of "What the actual fuck ronin." and he just laughed. You smiled and He gave you a hair ruffle and put the aorta in some weird place in his bag. Gross, but hey, he can do whatever he wants.
You looked at your clothes, It was basically stained red now, but your face, hands and pants were a total mess. You sighed, before thinking of a way on how to get home without getting the police after you.
" You look like a complete fuckin mess. Not that i'm complaining, but you probably are. How 'bout i give you a ride to my house, and stay there?"
You wanted to agree, you didn't mind the idea, but you wondered about the others, what about them? It would be quite rude to leave them here.
Before you could say anything, Misaki overheard the convo and made an idea.
"YOO IS THAT A SLEEPOVER I HEAR!?"
".. I'm not really fond of sleepovers."
"Maybe we could? I mean it is the best way to end the hangout"
". Fuck no, i don't have enough space for five people. And besides, i don't think anyone can survive the devils little hideout"
"Stop being edgy for once ronin, your living room is big enough"
".. Wow, guess i have no choice do i?"
"A sleepover it is, then."
You decided to take a photo of the body, and you were planning on sending it in the server. To have some more 'evidence' that you killed someone. Would your old self be proud of you? Absolutely not, but people change. You changed by being rotten and corrupted, and you wouldn't want it any other way.
weird..
You have this odd feeling that doesn't go away
It feels like a craving.
More killing, it screams your name.
You feel like killing more people.
Their agony, your pleasure.
Time to show them what you have become.
#killer chat#ronin killer chat#ronin beaufort#angel killer chat#misaki killer chat#v killer chat#killer chat misaki#killer chat ronin#killer chat angel#killer chat vn#visual novel#fiction#fanfic#part 2
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I started weight lifting in the spring, so I haven't practiced for a long time, but the things I've learned in the last 6 months:
A lot of things can improve your gains, but some are not as easily as actionable, and some are not as impactful. Focus on stuff that have a high impact, and are easily actionable.
Something that is easily actionable for most people, and has an extremely high impact is a good quality sleep. Sleeping 8 hours of good sleep per day consistently is, for me, one of the biggest factors
Drink water, at the very least before and during your session. That shit is also high impact, highly actionable. I drink 1 to 2 liters of water a day. Already did before starting practicing sports, though, so shrug emoji, wasn't much of challenge for me.
Diet is similarly impacting, and I feel like on a lucky tide already spoke enough about it (at least I certainly don't know more).
For people who do weight lifting in order to lose fat: you cannot target fat loss (as in, you cannot work in certain ways that will make you loose fat in certain places)
Don't do stationary stretching before a session
But do active mobility exercises at the beginning, like 5 min of rowing, or 10 reps of using an elastic band, that you hold with both hands and lift above your head and behind your back, and above your head and in front of your torso while keeping your arms straight, back and forth.
Do a warm up set before you "real" sets. For example, when I do dead-lifts, I do 1 set of 10 reps at 40kg, before doing my 3 sets of 10 reps at 70kg. This allows me to get into focus mode, where I go through the motions, remember how the exercise goes, and just generally activate the muscle groups that I'm gonna more intensely for the "real" sets. For the dead-lift, it allows me to remember, ok, I need to keep my core contracted (sorry, not sure how to say it in English), I need to keep my chest propped, at the end of the movement, my butt should be contracted, my arms should be somewhat relaxed, my grip should be, etc etc... I go through the 10 reps, and it allows me to really get the coordination where I know that for the more demanding sets that come afterwards, I won't risk an injury, because I have prepped myself mentally (focus), from a nervous system point of view (because of muscle memory), and from a mobility point of view (because the correct muscle groups / correct articulations have been solicited for the exercise, but not with as high as charge). That will help you tremendously with focus, coordination, and injury prevention. The weight you choose should be in function of the weight you can do or plan to do for the real sets, an in: when my real sets where 40 kg, my warm up sets were 20 kg, etc...
Doing a shitload of various exercises is really not needed. As in, I don't do a LOT of different exercises in one session, and if I did, I would probably feel overwhelmed, and it probably would impact my motivation negatively. In my case, I go to the gym thrice a week: Monday is more posterior chain focused, Wednesday is more cardio focused, and Friday is more anterior chain focused. On a Monday, I will typically start with dead-lifts (they are my fave, so I always do them), and then out of leg presses, lunges, and squats, I will do two of those three exercises. I generally end up with either a glutes circuit (glutes are your butt, sorry if that obvious in English, again, English is not my first language), or an abs circuit.
Speaking of circuits, circuits are just a bundle of exercises. Example of abs circuit I can do: a set of crunches, followed by a set of Russian twists, followed by a set of the thing where I maintain a plank and raise slowly each leg alternatively. That's one circuit, and I do the circuit twice, or thrice.
Go into the gym with a plan: what do you want to do during your session ? Do you want to work on power (more weight, more recuperation time between series, less reps per series) or endurance (less weights, more reps) ? Do you want it to be more cardio (less weight, less or no recuperation time), or more muscle building ? What muscle group do you wanna work, and so which exercises are you gonna do ?
Adapt the exercises to your level (big picture): if at some point, you feel like you're really plateauing, ask yourself: increasing the intensity of your exercises according to your progress ? As your exercises become easier, increase the load so that the intensity remains homogeneous (again, taking into account whether your trying to work your endurance, cardio, power, etc...) -> check out resources on progressive overload
Adapt the exercises to your level (small picture): especially when you start, things are hard. Almost every exercise can be "dumbed down". For example, if you cannot do a plank on your feet, do it on your knees. If you cannot do a burpee where you extend into the plank position with a kick, extend by doing a core walk. The first time I tried "dumbed down" burpees, I though I was gonna throw up. Not just the physical exertion, but just the motion of being folded on myself. You'll get there.
Which leads me to the next point: be patient.
(continued in next reblog, because tumblr is a lil' shit and there is a character limit)
yo so you said you lift & i was wondering-
do you have any advice for someone who wants to start lifting?
Because I want to start but i’ve literally never lifted anything other than haybales (😭💖) and i have no idea where to start
Hey, I can absolutely give some advice. Quick caveat: I am self taught, aka, I am still learning. But I pulled this together for a friend and I'm sure they won't mind me passing it on.
There are also tons of people on here that also lift, and I'm sure they'll add stuff in the comments. (Pls add shit in the comments, you lot.)
I need to emphasise: getting full muscle extension with correct form is the best way to build strength. Do not ego lift. I have. I injured myself. Lesson learned.
Have rest days, aim for 0.7g-1g of protein per 1lb of body weight for good growth and repair. (Also helps you feel full and stick to a calorie deficit if you're shredding.)
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Hi everyone. I have had myself one hell of a December and am going to be in the red when January hits. Between first catching covid and then busting my motorcycle on some black ice, I've had to pay out for parts and repairs while also missing entirely too much work. I will have less hours in the next two weeks thanks to the holidays, and my job will be slashing overtime, so I will not be where I need to be by the new year.
I need to make rent for January at the very least. I can push other stuff around and probably make it work but rent is the most important thing. I will have 1 more paycheck between now and then, but I'm sure it won't be enough. I am asking for help to raise $325 - this is one half of what I will need. I know it's been an incredibly tough year for everyone and I am sorry to be in this position. There is absolutely no pressure to donate - I am grateful for just a reblog. I will be refreshing this post regularly so if you do not want to see it please block the tag "hyenadonations"
my paypal is: paypal.me/haleykaleidorider
$61/325
[Updated amount]
#I'm really sorry#I will be visiting the temp agencies maybe I can grab some holiday work on the weekends#that way i can at least have something more coming in the first week of january#don't worry I wasn't badly hurt when I hit the black ice#just some bruising on my knees but my bike is a bit mangled#so i will be relying on the bus for a while ugh#hyenadonations#hyena chatter
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so uh. that 2.2 Special Program, huh
#hsr#honkai star rail#hsr 2.2#hsr spoilers#hsr leaks#the body of this post reads as far less enthusiastic than i really am#i just don’t know how to casually return from my latest 2 week hiatus only to gush abt a game i’ve hardly blogged abt before#but i’m not making a whole ass sideblog for it like i did for Genshin. nah y’all r gonna bear witness to my fixation with this one#so anyways don’t mind me. vibrating into another dimension with anticipation for the next 11 days#it’s insane man. a year ago i Never ever woulda thought i’d be so invested in this game. and it took Months for the game to really grab me#but i’m v glad i kept coming back even when i was struggling to really get into it. like i just had this feeling that if i stuck around and#gave the game a chance to really like. come into its stride. i just always felt like there was Something there and i just hadn’t found it#and holy shit i finally found it in Penacony. the devs really truly outdid themselves with this region and these characters and this story#not to discount everything that’s happened prior. like i was genuinely Liking it all before now but i wasn’t Loving it y’know#but that may be more a ‘me having to fight tooth n’ nail to force myself to consume new media’ thing than it is a matter of the actual game#anyways i came here to talk abt the program! bc since i’m not filming my HSR stuff i’m gonna be insufferable abt it on Tumblr instead ! :)#and i’m probably not filming any more Genshin stuff. or anything else at all for that matter but let’s not talk abt that dead dream#pun not intended lmao. Anyways let’s return to the subject at hand while there’s still room left in these tags shall we#i’m so fucking glad they had Aventurine on this program man. especially since he’s leaked to only have 18 lines in 2.2… it was nice to see-#-him here at least 🥹 i’ll take what i can get. his unenthusiastic little bird noises at the beginning.. him being reluctant to come out..#the way one of the first things to come out of his mouth was ‘y’know DR RATIO once told me…’ like boy we get it ur in love with him 🙄 (/J!)#i love how they can’t go on these programs w/o talking abt each other it’s adorable. AND THE WAY HE WAS THE ONE TO EXPLAIN BOOTHILL’S KIT!?#they can’t just fuel my crackship like this… god and his whole ‘muddle-fudger.. son-of-a-nice-lady?’ thing had me wheezing#Aven mocking Boothill’s inability to curse was not on my special program bingo card but fuck i’m here for it#and Robin being all curious abt him was so cute.. ‘who /is/ he? … does he order milk at the bar?’ i’m crying she’s so sweet#also the trailer was fucking insane. which feels redundant as hell bc all of HoYo’s version trailers go hard but like. still. wow.#that millisecond long shot of Boothill surveying the skyline is so fucking good. also what the fuck is Jing Yuan doing here!!#not complaining at all tho. we’ve got JY & DH(IL?). Argenti(?). Boothill. Sunday. Aven. all my men r here and i am eating so fucking good#Seven.txt#viddy game stuff
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#grief sucks grief sucks grief sucks#i thought i’d never move on from her death and i hate the fact that in some ways i have#i hate the fact that i can wake up each day and go about my life and almost forget that she’s gone#i hate that it takes something like her birthday to bring up all the feelings of mourning again#because honestly? at least when i lived with the grief every day i was used to it being there#but now it’s something i feel occasionally and it hurts so much more because every time the grief comes back i feel her dying all over again#all week i’ve been absolutely miserable before i even realized how soon tomorrow was#and i’ve been thinking of her more too. literally was thinking i should learn how to extreme coupon the way she did bc she used to bring me#it just sucks she shouldn’t have died. not like that.#she was too young and it all happened so fast and just#she should be able to celebrate her 55th birthday with us#but she didn’t even make it to 50. what the hell man#i hate this i hate grief i hate that i have to miss her at all#i should be able to call her and text her and she would’ve helped me so much with the phase of life i’m in now#because sometimes she was mean and she was so stubborn but she others first and loved us more than anything#i can’t believe she’s been gone six years and i can’t believe i’ve celebrated six of her birthdays without her#what the actual fuck
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Missing people and regretting shit o'clock
#why did i even let it come this far. 7 fucking months and i didn't realize what was going wrong so i could have saved it#i want him back fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck#was thinking of this notebook i filled for him with memories and poetry and quotes and general mushy things and goddamn#why am i crying i just looked at my desk and i don't have the heart to put everything in a box so i don't see it every day when i wake up#i know i can't change it and it's probably over for good now after i fucked some things up extra hard but fuck do i miss him#i wish i could have done something in time before even the thought of breaking up came up#just when i thought for once things are working out for me and it was really fucking good and happy until a week before it ended#guess i just can't be happy. i never could#i was really really willing to talk things out and fix whatever needs to be fixed while staying together#not go separate ways and maybe not so maybe definitely not possibly maybe see if we can try again in the future#which we (spoiler) apparently won't and i kinda came to terms with that but i still wish there was a possibility#or at least i would have liked to know from the beginning and not spend weeks hoping for a reunion and working towards that specifically#while i seem to be the only one with that goal#idk i just wish it had been more thought through and talked about properly so there wouldn't be the misunderstandings we deal with now#and like boundaries for the first two months or so after that but it takes two i guess#disclaimer i'm not bitter or mad at anyone just sad and nostalgic. if the person in question reads this i love you ok that won't change#deleting later but now i need to go back to sleep before i kill myself on a whim#mel talks#depressed bitch posting#i know i know i know i did some shit too that wasn't great and i'm not saying i'm innocent here i'm just so depressed about the situation#it's been seven goddamn weeks it never took me this long to get over anything before
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this is your periodic reminder that for all the artifacts and errors and "tells" one could possibly list, the only reliable way to actually determine if an image is ai generated is to investigate the source. it is becoming increasingly common for "fake classical paintings" to circulate around curative aesthetic blogs, and everyone should be using this as an opportunity to not only exercise their investigative skills but also appreciate art more in general. you're all checking out the artists you reblog, right? 🫣
so what are some signs to look for? let's use this very good example.
what a lovely late-impressionist piece blended with evocative leyendecker-esque themes! why haven't you ever heard of this artist before? surely tumblr would be all over an artist like this. who is justin brown?
your two options from here are to do a search for the name, or a reverse image search. i prefer reverse image searching, particularly when it comes to a common name like "justin brown". so what does that net?
Immediately, without looking at any text, something is wrong: it barely exists. an actual historical piece would turn up numerous results from websites individually discussing the piece, but no such discussions are taking place. Looking at the text, though, does show the source-- and at least in this case, the creator was honest about their medium.
But let's also look at the "exact matches", in case a source doesn't make itself apparent in the initial sidebar results like this.
This section will often tell you post dates of images, and here it can be seen that the very first iteration of the image was posted 15 days ago. It did not exist online prior to that.
Seeing how long an unsourced image has been floating around is a skill applicable to more than just generative images! See a cool image of an artifact or other intriguing item with a vivid caption? Reverse search it! If all the results are paired with that caption and only go back a few months, you might just have viral facebook spam.
Sometimes generative creators are dishonest about their medium and do not tag it like in the example, so that's when establishing "jpeg provenance" becomes important. While it can be a little trickier to determine if someone is using generative images and not admitting to it if they aren't trying to pass it off as a classic, something to consider is the age of their account and the frequency with which they post. Here are some account red flags:
-Did they only start posting art after 2022, or if they did before, did their style/skill level WILDLY change? Not gradual improvement-- I'm talking amateur graphite portraits straight into complex digital renders. Everyone starts somewhere, newness is not a red flag alone; it's newness combined with existing in a vacuum away from any community.
-Do they post fully-finished paintings several times a week? -Do many of these paintings seem iterative of a similar theme or subject matter ("three well-dressed young men face each other under shade and dappled sunlight")?
-Does their style change in inconsistent ways? An artist that can swap between painting like Drew Struzan and Hokusai should be pretty well known, right? Why is no one hyping this guy?!
-Do they have social media besides the source instagram? If so, what are they posting about? Are there any WIPs? Doodles? Interactions with other artists? Gallery dates? 3am self-doubt posts? Or is it all self-promo? Crypto? Seemingly nothing art-related at all for someone pushing out 3 weekly paintings?
Basically, if it's important to you to omit this stuff when you curate, please don't just smash reblog if the source doesn't seem to be the OP themselves. Seeking out sources was important even before this became an issue, now it is more than ever.
peace n love
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#I don't mean to keep sounding so negative about everything but this is just like me having a place to put thoughts that's outside my head#And I think the last couple days made me feel a bit better about some things and I feel like maybe I am more cared about that it#feels like sometimes#I got a message asking about when my birthday was to make sure they hadn't missed it and you have no idea how much that#meant to me even though it was such a small thing and I've lowkey been dreading it thinking that no one cared but maybe#that's not true#But for another thing I feel like I'm being disappointing and seeming like I am not putting any effort in when that's not true at all#and I don't want to be perceived that way. I am doing as much as I can but it's just that that's limited right now and#I am trying to take care of myself but I am just really bad at that especially in this specific situation#Which has happened before and I am trying to learn from it but it is just so difficult for me when it's in the moment#And I have started something to get help but I think that will be a slow process but even with that I know in the meantime I just need to#stop. But I have something coming up I really don't want to miss and I think I should just push through for a few more weeks even if it's#limited. And when this first happened I should have just done better to deal with it. But there was no indication it was this bad at the#time and then more time just went on and I got used to it without clueing in that maybe it had gone on for too long and should have done#something sooner#And I think just saying something to them would at least help the situation to know that I am struggling at least but I don't want to#seem like I am not making an effort
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