#we have an unreliable receiver

[oreana-galena]

I think the most rewarding conversation I could have was two different store managers telling me that my store manager is overworking me and spreading me too thin.

[pochapal]

the fact that kinzo's formal character introduction breaks form by happening in a separate narrative moment and not when battler meets/observes him for the first time in the story and the fact that kinzo is the only character for whom this is the case is. hm. weird to say the least.

[couldpolyamorysavethem]

Hi, I just submitted one of Tinker Bell x Terence x Silvermist- please let me know if you get it! I put it on the form but it didn't say "Thanks for your submission" and everything cleared and it showed the red asterisk even though I put my media and it took a while for me to write out :P

Unfortunately, it doesn't look like we've gotten it! You're welcome to try resubmitting it, if you'd like.

[bamsara]

I think that one thing people fail to understand is that unsolicited literary criticism coming from an online stranger who is reading with no knowledge of what the authors intended goal is, is not going to be received the same as say: the authors beta reader or friends who know what the authors intended goal and has the sufficient knowledge and input to help the author reach that desired outcome.

"But I'm only trying to be helpful" How do I know you have the knowledge and literary skill for you to be able to actaully do that when we don't know each other and you are essentially a stranger to me? Are you applying this criticism based out of personal biased experience and desire to see the story or characterization be driven in another direction or tweaked, or do you know the author's intentions for the character? If the story is incomplete, are you basing your criticism of a character on the incomplete narration with only partial information available of them or are you building up a report until the story's completion? Did the author provide you with the information needed to make a fully informed criticism?

Have you discussed with the author what their plans are or are you assuming them based off the narration, especially if the narration is proven or implied to be unreliable or missing key points of the plot? Are you unbiased enough to help them reach their desired outcome for the characters and story regardless of your personal feelings towards the characters/antagonists and setting? Can you handle being told your specific input isn't wanted because you're a reader and/or have no written anything relating to their genre or topic? Do you understand and respect that the author's personal experiences might influence their writing and make it different than how you would have done it personally? Do you understand if an author only wants input from a specific demographic relating to their story?

If it's for fanfiction or other hobby media, are you holding a free hobby to a professional standard? Are you trying to give criticism because you feel like the author has produced 'subpar job performance' of their fic? Are you viewing their work as a personal intimate outlet or something that must conform with mass media? Are you applying rules and guidelines when the fic is shared for simple sharing sake? Is your criticism worded appropriately and focused on the parts where the author has requested input on rather than a general dismissal and or disapproval?

Have you put yourself in a place where you assumed you have the input needed for the story to evolve better, or have you asked what the author needs and what they're having trouble with? Can you handle having your criticism rejected if the author decides their story doesn't need the change and not take it as a personal offense against your character? Are you crossing that boundary because you think you are doing the author a favor? Are you trying to be helpful, or do you just want to be?

I think sometimes when people hear authors go 'please don't give me unsolicited writing advice or criticism' they automatically chalk it up to 'this author doesn't want ANY constructive feedback on their stuff at all' and not "i already have trusted individuals who will help me with my writing goals and- hey i don't know you like that, please stop acting so overly familiar with me'

[wilwheaton]

DNC speakers painted a clear picture of Trump, his history as president, and his frightening agenda if he wins a second term. But fact-checkers clouded that image to Trump’s benefit. For example, the Washington Post’s Glenn Kessler challenged Hillary Clinton’s statement that Kamala Harris “won’t be sending love letters to dictators.” Trump himself said in 2018 about North Korean dictator Kim Jong Un: “We fell in love, okay? No, really, he wrote me beautiful letters, and they’re great letters. We fell in love.” Still, Kessler insists the truth of Clinton’s statement about love letters “is in the eye of the beholder.” Clinton’s actual point is that Trump openly admires and cozies up to dictators and autocrats — not a great trait for the leader of the free world. Kessler insists “there is no evidence” Trump personally sent love letters to Kim Jong Un, and while that’s true — he might have just received them and responded by praising Kim publicly — it’s beside the point. Whether Trump literally writes steamy notes to dictators isn’t relevant. The issue is that Trump’s a wannabe despot.

What's wrong with the fact-checkers?

This is why I argue that the Harris campaign has no reason to prioritize talking to a corporate press. These lazy writers who should give back their journalism degrees and the feckless editors they answer to absolutely know better, yet they continue to take Trump at his word while nitpicking every single thing that a Democrat says. It’s Calvinball.

Everyone under 50 knows that corporate media is a waste of time if you want to know the truth, and that’s a real shame because a functioning Democracy demands a strong, independent, fiercely aggressive and publicly accountable press that follows the truth, wherever it leads.

I hope that the current generation of independent journalists (the real ones, like Jessica Yellin, not the Incelfluencers who spew right wing talking points) continues to expose corporate news media as the unreliable propaganda it too often is.

When I hear folks at the Times, the Post, CNN and other corporate outlets complain about how they don’t get any respect from a campaign that is getting its message out without their misleading spin and editorializing, I love it for them, and wonder if they’ll look in the mirror long enough to actually do something to earn back the respect they seem utterly baffled they have lost.

[stil-lindigo]

link

I can't properly put into words the amount of disgust that I feel seeing someone who looks like she could be my cousin fight for a genocidal occupational force like Israel but I will say this.

If you are Chinese, Korean, Japanese or any one of these Asian ethnicities that the West deem "acceptable" and you align yourselves with western-backed racial supremacy, you are making fools of yourselves. You have fallen prey to the myth of the "model minority" and you are suckers for it.

The premise of racial supremacy is based on exclusivity. And here's a dose of reality - the myth of the "model minority" is nothing but a tactic to placate you. To sow divide in the ranks of people of colour. To artificially manufacture another realm of racial supremacy in minorities so that you're distracted from how we all suffer under colonialism.

Did we all forget about the skyrocketing of sinophobia in the wake of the first COVID outbreak? The transformation of Chinese people into fiends with barbaric eating customs, poor hygiene, and mass conspiracy to infect the world with biological weapons?

link

What about the hate-crimes? The attacks in the street against anyone visibly asian? The rampant discrimination and ostracisation from society?

In 2020, Donald Trump referred to COVID-19 as "The Chinese Virus", "Kung-flu" at a campaign rally to raucous applause, a chilling echo of the times where fears of the "Yellow Peril" had the western world in a stranglehold.

For all that Chinese people have been lauded as "prodigies" and "well-mannered workers", the moment our existence was incovenient, were were nothing more than another target. And although Chinese suffering then wasn't close to the scale of suffering that Palestinians now endure, we all received a reminder on what it was like to be in the world's crosshairs.

Now, in 2023, Biden dismisses death tolls as unreliable and remains proudly Zionist even after Netanyahu described the genocide Israel is inflicting upon Palestine as the "struggle between the children of light and the children of darkness, between humanity and the law of the jungle." At the same time, Palestinians are being compared to fleeing rats in a gesture of dehumanisation that mirrors how the Nazis portrayed Jews during the Holocaust.

link

And let's not think Abigail's Jewishness will save her, not when it's been proven that Israel has administered contraceptives to Ethiopian Jewish immigrants without their consent. Racial supremacy is an exclusive club that never stops getting smaller, and there is nothing that you, as a minority, will ever be able to do to fit in. One day, you too will be a target and there'll be nothing you can do but blame yourself. After all - it's already happened.

So shame on Abigail. Truly. With the memory of knowing what it's like to be targeted for factors out of your control fresh in her mind, she happily fights to do the same to others. And that says more about her than I ever will be able to.

[punkpandapatrixk]

❤️‍🩹I Just Want to be Loved ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

We attract terrible loves for various reasons; so many lessons; but now sorrow has got to lessen. Let’s reveal patterns by exhuming roots. We’ve got to stop this cycle of disappointments. Done being made to feel as if we’re hard to love.

We’re not hard to love. Many of us were simply denied love, warmth and affection as we were growing up… Don’t know how to love self; don’t know how to love others; basically don’t know how to even receive Love… Who’s to blame now?

Why the hell were so many children denied love, warmth, affection…?

What are you going to do with yourself when you were denied love, warmth and affection as you were growing up?

☆♪°・.

‘The child who isn’t embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.’ – an African proverb

People denied warmth and affection tend to fall into a desperate loop of fishing for attention as a result of love-deficiency, right? Some learn to lick love off a knife; some pursue success (whatever that means) all too frantically; some…shoot complete strangers in broad daylight; and some who ain’t got the guts to murder complete strangers in public places go instead for antagonising strangers on social media… Gosh, that is desperate.

But you know what, not all hope is lost because there’s still plenty of us who are blessed with this incredibly RARE thing called self-awareness. There are plenty of us who will take our traumas to the graveyard than pass them down the next generations.

You, don’t deserve to have your sanity and your Life ruined by some psychos who didn’t know how to love you. Reclaim lost pieces of yourself by understanding THREE Houses in your natal chart, babe:

4th House: your roots; tells you what was lacking in your home; explains your erratic 10th House ambitions

8th House: your marriage or your desire for a bond like it; this the House where trauma manifests itself in full spectrum

11th House: your wish fulfilment; where you connect with people who support your visions; breeds a healthy sense of connection, even community

SONG: Emptiness by BoA

MOVIE: Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Because I Can’t Even Trust Myself

VIBE: Trust by Hamasaki Ayumi

lost pieces (pertaining to 4th House) – Ace of Pentacles Rx

It’s clear your childhood didn’t offer a sense of stability or security—the physical kind that children usually need. It could be that a grownup left early or it could be that you moved around a lot, so you easily lost contact with new friends you’d just made. In essence, it feels like you grew up feeling ‘everything disappears eventually; everyone leaves eventually’.

Some of you might’ve grown up not having a lot of material resources, but for the majority of you tuning into this Pile, it was more a feeling of a lack of warmth. For children, the pain of neglect and a lack of emotional connection do really affect our physical health more severely. You might’ve grown up poor and sickly due to all the grownups around you being inattentive, unaffectionate, and just…unreliable at best.

Because of this awareness, from a young age you realised you would have to do everything yourself. You wanted to grow up quickly and do your own things your own ways. It’s not like you had to grow up fast, you wanted to grow up fast to have your freedom and power! It was…hard to trust adults. It was hard to trust the world at large.

growing pains (pertaining to 8th House) – 8 of Pentacles

On the path of growing up, I think you became a hard worker of sort? This is very nuanced though—there are layers to your developing yourself to become a hardworking person. In many ways, you grew up responsible because you didn’t want to become like the adults who had disappointed you. But since this sense of ‘responsibility’ is a product of neglect and trauma…this is coming off as your feeling responsible for everything. Everything!

Some of you could’ve been too hard on yourself, expecting way too much for your age. You’ve felt like you’re always the one with everything to prove. It’s hard living like that. It feels like you’ve put so much effort into keeping everything together, and yet, nobody sees how much you care. Nobody truly understands the fear in your mind and pain you carry in your heart.

In matters of relationship, you cling extra hard to friends or lovers, too; because deep down you’re afraid of losing things and people, again and again. This unhealthy attachment—and to some extent, controlling behaviour—is truly your wounded inner child attempting frantically to keep your Reality from falling apart…

reclamation (pertaining to 11th House) – 4 of Cups

I’m very sure that at some point in Life, your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides are going to kick in and meddle with your Earthly business. For some people, it’s possible you could lose contact with everybody you’ve ever known in Life and go into a hermit mode to find yourself again. For some, it could be that your whole Life is simply flipped, without necessarily losing key people in your Life, for you to look at Life and human connections from a very different point of view.

It’s going to be hard, of course. Emotionally, it could be devastating. Themes of abandonment and betrayal are big in your incarnation. But you know, ultimately, all of these challenges serve to remind you that the Cup of Love and Affection you’ve been looking for has always been right inside of you. You’ve had a bitter time with a lot of people because deep down you couldn’t trust them. You couldn’t trust other people’s loyalty because you didn’t even believe that you’re worthy of that Love and Loyalty you yearn for.

Your Spirit Guides are saying, that although at some point in Life things are going to get really tough, know that when you’ve graduated those lessons, you’re going to be rewarded with the most beautiful Soulmate-shit friendships, familyship and relationship. Truth be told, part of your Soul’s scenario in this incarnation is to find your Soul Tribe; and find your Tribe you shall~

A L O N E🔻💗

ALL of you – Red Alchemist (John Dee)

becoming ONE and whole – Priestess of Healing

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Misled by My Own Compassion

VIBE: Cry Me A River by Julie London

lost pieces (pertaining to 4th House) – Knight of Cups

It’s very likely your 4th House is in a Water sign, but if not, you’re still very much a Water-y person; perhaps your Ascendant or Moon is in a Water sign, or that you have Neptune/Moon near/in your 4th, 7th or 11th House. All of this generally makes you a deeply compassionate person. No matter what outer appearances give, you strive to look deeper into a person’s Soul. You have so much empathy and you want to believe in the good of people.

Alas! This rotten world doesn’t make it too easy. This world is not a world where kindness and compassion are truly rewarded, if we don’t learn to be a tad cruel ourselves. You’re not in the wrong for being so genuinely good and compassionate; it’s this world that’s the wrong world. You know that? Therefore, it is paramount you learn to be a bitchilante! But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In spite of this PAC’s intro, I sense the majority of you tuning into this Pile actually grew up quite well. Many of you actually grew up in loving homes and that’s why it’s been quite challenging for you to grapple with the realness of the ugliness of the world outside of your loving home. Really…people in the real world…are monsters! And you were taken aback!

But some of you instead most likely grew up in chaotic, battlefield-esque homes and that’s why you’ve striven to be so good to a point of detriment.

growing pains (pertaining to 8th House) – 0 The Fool Rx

Be that as it may, you being you… Well, you do put in the effort to try and understand what makes monsters the way that they are, right? It’s all good and wonderful, until you get yourself in deep trouble where nobody can save you but your own monstrosity. Depending on your age when reading this, this could be something that’s happened in the past or will happen; where you will be forced to grow up in the sense of seeing the world as it is and get firm with assholes!

Dr Jordan Peterson has this gold shit to summarise this spiritual lesson you will be taking at some point in Life: ‘You should be a monster, an absolute monster, and then you should learn to control it.’ Well, that’s male speech. In female speech, we just say: ‘you gotta grow up and be a bitchilante!’

Be a bitch only to those who deserve it. How would you protect yourself from monsters if you don’t have the strength to fight them at their own game, darling? If you’re harmless, weak as a fawn, if anything, the real monsters in the world are going to toy with your sanity: ‘I saw my “crazy” side once and decided I wouldn’t be involved with anyone that would take me out of my peace like that ever again.’

Be a bitchilante. That whole concept of ‘good, harmless, love and light, positivity-only’ bullshit was put out there not to really make you good but to weaken you against the truly monstrous ones. WAKE UP, BITCH!

reclamation (pertaining to 11th House) – 4 of Pentacles

So? So what if you’re selective with your affection? Not everybody deserves your compassion. That’s for sure. There are many people in the world and you can’t be nice to all of them. One at point or another, you’re gonna be a villain in someone’s story—so what? Everybody else is the main character of their own Stories; that, you can’t control.

Be careful that you’re not falling victim to your own narcissism in wanting to be praised in everybody’s Story, yeah? So then, pertaining to your 11th House, weirdly enough, your wish fulfilment is in the form of a psychological liberation from your own idea of yourself in the minds of others. I sense that if you’re East Asian this is gonna resonate much harder and louder LOL

Anyway, I want to assure you that once you’ve graduated from your spiritual lessons, you will be met with unique, courageous, rebellious weirdos who will be just as clear as you are about what it truly means to be a good person in a world that’s often very bad. How good should a person be to truly be considered a good person?

‘If I offended you, cry me a river. I’ll bring snacks and a raft. I will literally float down your tears eating chips and working on my tan.’ – Fuckology

A L O N E🔻💚

ALL of you – Green Geographer (Gerardus Mercator)

becoming ONE and whole – Priestess of Success

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Lights Out; I’m Out to Find Myself

VIBE: To. X by Taeyeon

lost pieces (pertaining to 4th House) – Ace of Cups Rx

I’ve to preface this Pile by saying this the pile that gets a little violent…

You were originally such a positive, happy-go-lucky kid, but quite early on, this world gave you so much darkness. So many reasons to be sad. It’s not been a very kind life, to be honest. Defo many of you have tragical placements here—your 4th or 5th House could start or end in Scorpio; have Lilith/Pluto/Chiron/Saturn there or in the sign of Cancer/Pisces; or it could be that your Venus/Moon is imprisoned in the 8th or 12th House and harshly aspected, too...

If your childhood has been violent or mightily confusing, it’s a group thing, OK? You can think like that. It’s not your fault. Know that practically everybody who has these harsh placements has gone through very similar things as you. So you’re really not the only one who’s failing—whatever that means. You’ve been gaslit a lot into believing there’s something wrong with you, but it was your environment that was just filled with totally terrible Human beings. That much I’d like to assure you.

It wasn’t natural how you were abused psychologically and emotionally. The people around you drew a parallel to Cinderella’s stepsisters in the Disney classic. It’s ridiculous like that. I think you grew up terribly lonely and created comfort characters in your head to console your sorrows? It’s very likely that your comfort characters were in actuality a mirror fragment of your Soul Family’s existence locked in your memory bank.

growing pains (pertaining to 8th House) – XIV Temperance Rx

Life, unfortunately, isn’t a Disney movie. As a result of the psychological and emotional abuse you’ve endured in childhood, your friendships and relationships might’ve been quite turbulent, at times even violent. Juuust a small number of you could’ve dealt with being called a violent kid, or you could’ve struggled with anger management and have terrible tantrums. All of these have made human connections quite difficult to navigate.

It’s not like you want to be a nasty person, right? Many times, you couldn’t help the way you react/respond to what’s being said and unsaid because, somehow, there are many things that people do and say that trigger a trauma response in you. There’s a very difficult Mars thingy going on here. I think many of you resonating with this Pile have some difficult Mars (ruler of Scorpio) placements/aspects that affect the way you manifest human connections in your Life.

Speaking in terms of synastry, it could be that you’ve attracted a great deal of people whose Mars aspected badly in your natal chart—consequently triggering bad traumas and manifesting violent outbursts in your connections. Ultimately though, these negative experiences with other people could’ve enforced your belief about how unlovable you are, which, really, is a false belief…

reclamation (pertaining to 11th House) – 5 of Wands

It is a false Reality that you’re unlovable or unworthy of a healthy relationship. That bullshit was implanted in you through the creation of a harsh environment that caused you a great deal of rage. Of course, you’re accountable for how you behave towards other people, but your foundation was never quite healthy or peaceful or harmonious, so… How about we put it all behind us and focus on healing? After all, it’s not like the people you’ve had a beef with were completely innocent? XP

It's kinda selfish to think like that, but you can depend on your own discernment to distinguish who amongst the people you’ve hurt or had a beef with to apologise to. Remember: sometimes apologies only make you weaker and looking at the unique bullshit astrological placements you were born with… apologising to the wrong fucker would only get you gaslit even more! So, don’t. Don’t apologise for the distress you experienced under other people’s lack of support.

Burn that bridge and detach yourself from that old stinking world. With your sheer willpower, you have it in you to rebuild your own little world of love and peace. After all, those harsh placements you were born with, are you aware of just how much power they bestow you? These placements come with a lot of turbulences but once you graduate your first Saturn Return, they also give you a burst of power unlike any other!

Lights out. Not entertaining aenergies that seek to nip your power at the bud anymore. Burn, baby, burn strong! Burn the whole Tower and find yourself on new lands~!

A L O N E🔻💜

ALL of you – Gold Alchemist (Roger Bacon)

becoming ONE and whole – Priestess of Solitude

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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[exocynraku]

nightheart is less of a character to me and more of a personalization of the writer's misogyny and male-focused mindset. he hates the people around him, primarily his mother, which he only does because he believes the worst in sparkpelt; not the truth-- which he knows, has a made-up, unrealistic issue (name), his relationship with another female character has singlehandedly rewritten her personality to be of service to him while the writers seemingly abandon her previous storyline, and he continues to receive main character opportunities (be in the sunbeam-frostpaw-nightheart trio, follow frostpaw to the COTP), and is adored by a portion of the fanbase who woobify him, spouting misogynistic and ablesist beliefs without realizing it for the sake of liking another sad, lost, male character in the belief that he is something "new" and "special" (which, i don't know how to tell you this, he is NOT) to me, nightheart is not a character, he is not a person. he does not have a personality nor a story. he is not a main character nor an unreliable narrator. he is not "coded" to be anything other that a mish-mash of previous male characters. he is not poorly written, nor written well. he is a written manifestation of the writer and editors hate, even if they do not realize it. previous characters got close (of note alderheart, brambleclaw, clear sky, crowfeather) , but i believe he is the truest embodiment. (unless, for gods sake, we get something WORSE in future books)

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 13

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Canonical character death; Vomiting; Sexual themes.

A/N: It hasn’t taken me this long to write a chapter for this since I started it. And once again, I’m disappointed in the quality. I hope it’s received well enough. :/ And try not to maim me over the ending. I’m hoping it will inspire me to be a bit faster with updates. 😅

It had taken you a while to calm down. Hours later, you were under the sheets and lying with your back toward the door. People came and went, offering food and medication and water. You accepted all with silence, only for the sake of your baby. The little one needed the food and water and you needed the medication to help you keep it down. Carol informed you that she and Lori had taken care of Daryl. Had they murdered him? 

The sun had set and cloaked your room in shadow by the time you opened your eyes again. You didn't even remember falling asleep. What had woken you? Hands rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you sat up. There was a curious light outside the window. It was as if you had been denied the audio from a feature film but suddenly pressed the button to unmute. 

Screams, gunfire, cars, motorcycle. What the hell is happening?! Your fingers brushed the top of your boots when the bedroom door swung open. Lori appeared wild, frightened to a degree you had never witnessed in her before.

“Carl!? Y/N, have you seen Carl?!” 

“No, I’m sorry. Lori, what—” But she was gone. Now the panic was setting in, your chest tightening for the second time that day. Where was Daryl? What was going on? 

“Patricia! Beth! Y/N! We have to go!” Carol’s voice was an unfamiliar tone, the quiet woman infused with a tension and fear in the call of each name. You stepped into your boots and jogged down the stairs just as Patricia and Beth stepped out onto the porch. Carol was reaching for you before you even noticed her. 

“What’s happening?!” You were breathless with worry and confusion.  

“The farm isn’t safe. We have to go!” The woman urged, her hand wrapping around your wrist. Beth was crying, Lori was panicked. The sight that greeted you was overwhelming. Walkers everywhere. The barn burning. Gunshots from cars circling the herd. 

“Carol.” You whimpered. You had no weapon, watching Lori bolt with a bag. “Do we have any guns?” 

“No time to find one! Go!” 

The four of you sprinted off the porch, the herd closing in, forcing you in different directions. You weren’t sure how you ended up so far into the field, running blindly in the dark, the only light coming from the unsteady flames devouring the barn. You didn’t stop running, the dead closing in from all sides. 

You nearly stumbled into the desperate clutches of a woman, teeth snapping at you before she could get a good hold. You pushed her, stumbling backward into the chest of a man, his rotting mouth snapped by your head, nearly taking your ear. You couldn’t help but scream. You’d never make it to the forest. There, you could easily utilize the safety nature provided. However, the amount of dead that blocked your path made it impossible. 

With the fence at your back, the road just beyond it, you glanced over your shoulder. You could hop the structure easily but more dead waited on the other side. Your mind was still scrambling for a resolution when you heard the familiar rumble and crunch of gravel beneath rubber. 

Daryl was there, calling your name. You cleared the fence and ran to him, legs burning and breaths unreliable. 

“C’mon! I ain’t got all day!” He was standing over the front edge of the seat so you could easily mount the bike behind him. Once both of you were seated, you wrapped your arms around his middle and buried your face into his back. 

“Go! Go!” Your shout was muffled against the leather vest but he heard you and soon you were moving, the wind carrying the smell of blood and smoke. You burrowed further against him, taking in his scent instead. Leather and pine, his natural musk, a hint of tobacco. You focused on it while he dodged walkers, the snarling growls and moans too close as you felt him slow and start to weave. 

“Not so tight.” His warm hand patted yours and disappeared just as quickly. 

“Daryl.” You whimpered. You pulled your hands back to rest on his sides, lightly curling your fingers into his vest. Any noise aside from the motorcycle began to fade as the wind picked up. You were going faster. Still, you didn’t let go, didn’t look up. You’d barely made it out. If Daryl hadn’t been there—

He was slowing again, to a crawl and eventually, a stop. When he cut the engine and began to move away, you could feel him taking your breath along behind him. You were clumsy bringing your leg over the seat, nearly toppling face first onto the gravel road. 

“Why—Daryl, why are we stopping?! We can’t be here! It’s not safe, Daryl!” You knew you looked like a wild animal, eyes wide and frantic, your hands protectively curled around your middle. “Daryl—Daryl, we—”

“Easy.” How long had he been standing that close? Your gaze focused on him, but you still couldn’t seem to catch your breath. 

Red. 

“Daddy!”

“I love you, Peanut.”

“Hey, we’re good.” His palms were warm against your face, blue eyes swimming with concern. He was trying to bring you out of the darkness you had wandered into, scared and vulnerable. “Gotta breathe, Y/N. C’mon, girl.” You hadn’t realized your own hands were grasping at his shoulders until he was releasing your face to gently pry them off. “Doin’ better. Can’t stay here long but ya can’t ride like this.” He lowered your hands to your lap and placed his palm back against your cheek. 

You ducked your head and swallowed back the bile inching up your throat, realization striking you like a freight train. “Oh god, I left the meds! All of Hershel’s supplies! Daryl, the baby—”

“Ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to either’a ya. Ya hear me?” The conviction in those eyes, the determination. He meant it. You hiccupped and nodded, the deep breath you finally willed yourself to take stuttering. “Are ya hurt? Bit?” You shook your head with more enthusiasm than necessary. “Need to getcha somewhere safe, try an’ find the others.”

He was still standing close to you and watched as you wiped your face, looking away when you tried to meet his eyes. You allowed your arms to fall back toward your lap, your right one hitting his foreman on the way down. His palm was on your belly. You hadn’t noticed he’d placed it there when he had moved your hands. Bringing attention to it was likely to embarrass or upset him. A repeat of the events from earlier was not something you could handle. 

“What if we’re the only ones?” You asked when his hand moved to run through his hair. He jutted his chin forward, wordlessly requesting you move so he could again straddle the bike. There was no hesitation, he stood with his boots on the ground to let you seat yourself behind him. 

“We ain’t.” 

“But if we are?” 

He didn’t look at you, but was still for a moment. You watched his fingers flex around the handlebars. 

“Then s’just the three’a us.”

You were careful to not squeeze too tightly this time when you wrapped your arms around his stomach. 

You gave a weak smile to Carl as you climbed off the bike. To your absolute shock, after the embrace with his mother and father, he hurried over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Hey, kid. Glad you’re okay.” You plucked his hat off, ruffled his hair, and sat the giant thing back down. He beamed up at you and then continued on his journey of relieved greetings. You spotted Daryl watching you and shrugged. Sometimes you thought Carl didn’t even realize you were around. There were few words spoken between you and the kid, even though you did talk quite a bit with Lori. 

You’d slept so much the day before but you found yourself exhausted, feeling slightly nauseous. You’d told Daryl about the medication. Had he mentioned it during the discussion of where to go next? Leaning against the bike, you watched him rationalize with the others on a plan.  

He seemed calmer around everyone, not so eager to gain distance. He glanced back at you now and again, looking away when he realized you were still watching him. You couldn’t seem to find it within you to be embarrassed. Maybe you could blame exhaustion or pregnancy. 

“Y/N?”

“Huh?” You stood up straight only to find everyone looking at you now. Did Daryl just smirk at you? “Sorry, what’s going on?”

“We just wanted to get your opinion.” Carol smiled, small and tired, but knowing. Everyone probably saw you gawking at your baby daddy. 

“Whatever Daryl says is fine by me.” The implications of your statement were lost on you until the second the last syllable crossed over your lips. Even the archer had the decency to look surprised. Now you were embarrassed. An oil stain on the pavement became ever so interesting when you needed to look away. Your gaze remained there for the rest of the conversation. 

Daryl offered to find Andrea but was quickly shot down by Rick, saving you the trouble. Once T-Dog suggested east, Daryl agreed that main roads should be avoided. He walked by you to grab the crossbow from the back of the bike and quickly took down a walker before strapping the weapon back in place. 

“Watch out.” The hunter carefully nudged you aside and climbed onto the bike. 

“Want me to ride with some of them?” You pulled your flannel tighter and hugged yourself against the chill. You were definitely not dressed for the weather. 

“Nah, you’re with me.” He replied from around his thumbnail. He was eyeing your attire, knowing for certain you weren’t dressed for how cold the nights would get. You knew it too. He said he wouldn’t let anything happen to you or the baby. That meant finding medication and clothing. “Don’t care what we’re doin’ or where we are, if we’re both there, you’re with me ‘less I say otherwise. Understood?”

“Okay.” You acquiesced with a nod and climbed on, grateful for the natural heat of the archer’s body. You would have sighed if it wouldn’t just raise other questions. When the bike began moving, you continued to keep your hold loose but buried your face again, not only shielding your skin from the cold air but also effectively hiding the small smile you wore. 

Daryl pulled the bike off at Rick’s signal, asking if he was out of gas. Your hold on him remained until he patted your interlocked fingers and waved for you to climb off. You tried to keep your teeth from chattering while everyone talked—argued, really—about staying or going. 

Rick had killed Shane. The deputy hadn’t been very forthcoming with the details but your lack of interest regarding the man’s death told you exactly where you stood. You were never a fan.

“Look, I don’t care who goes today or tomorrow, but m’goin’ cause Y/N needs that medicine.” 

“I can go with you.” You offered, following Daryl toward the selected camp area. When he stopped, you nearly collided with his back. He turned without looking at you, not at first. When he did, his expression was stern. The hand he brought up to grasp your chin was quite the opposite. 

“Remember what I said? You’re with me ‘less I say otherwise.” You nodded. “This one’s otherwise. Need ya to stay here tomorrow. You’re gonna be sick by then, I reckon. Distracted. Need ya safe.”

You kept your gaze locked with his. “Okay.” You conceded easily, almost smiling at the naked relief in his eyes. “Would—would you get me a jacket? Maybe some—some maternity clothes?”

The archer scrunched his nose, releasing his hold on you. “Tell Maggie ‘bout the clothes. I’ll find ya the meds an’ a jacket.” He turned away, but you called his name before he could make it far. You weren’t sure he’d accept the contact after yesterday’s fiasco, but you placed your arms around his neck, your face tucked against his shoulder. 

“Thank you.” He hummed and nodded in response, quick to end the embrace and disappear past the treeline. He was likely gathering firewood. He wouldn’t be hunting. He was too adamant about you staying with him to go far. 

The archer was shaken by the events of the previous night, whether or not he cared to admit it. Maybe not the walkers or the loss of the farm; maybe not even the deaths. He was worried for you and his baby. It shone clear in the way he looked at you, the way he wanted to keep you close. The unwanted but familiar insecurities came creeping in, compounding on top of your already unsettled stomach. Was he just looking out for the baby?

“Maggie?” Your voice came out quiet and unsteady but you still managed to snag her attention. “Daryl said you’re going tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” She stepped away from Glenn with a lingering touch on his arm, making sure he knew she was still there. “Don’t worry. I know what medications you need and we’ll find them. We’ll find something.”

You nodded without meeting her eyes. “Thank you but he told me to ask you about clothes. These,” you pulled at your t-shirt beneath the flannel, “won’t be warm enough. And I’ll get—bigger.” You made an awkward gesture around your abdomen with both hands. 

“You’re glowing, you know.” The look on your face must have been reason enough for her to giggle and place a hand on your bicep, squeezing ever so gently. “Pregnancy suits you. Don’t worry. I’ll find you some clothes. Shoes too, cause your feet are gonna swell. You’ll thank me later.”

“My feet?” You squeaked, looking down at your boots. “Thumper, be nice to mommy’s feet. I need those.”

You weren’t feeling well at all by the time the sun began to dip below the horizon. The night air was cold, even with your proximity to the fire Daryl continued to feed. Your stomach was a rolling mess of knots. You managed some water but even that threatened to make a reappearance. 

Daryl hadn’t hunted. He wouldn’t leave you behind, especially when you started feeling unwell. The group had not been happy, offering to sit with you and to not let you out of their sight. It wasn’t good enough for him. He knew anything he managed to bring back would be of no benefit to you. 

When you tried to send him off, he pinned you with the same look he’d given you at the farm before he had turned away and yelled for you to leave. You raised your hands in defeat and walked away.  

Now, a few hours later, you were glad he hadn’t left. Even with all the people around you, there was a suffocating tension around that campsite. Had you been left under their guard, you likely would have ended up in the middle of the venomous arguments and snarky jabs. You just didn’t have the energy. 

You were a silent spectator during Daryl’s conversation with Carol, his defense of Rick. The man in question came around the wall that sheltered the group, tense words once again shared. You couldn’t take part, couldn’t even begin to grasp what was being shared, crawling to a spot at the perimeter to empty the liquid contents of your stomach. The heaving was painful and left you gasping and spitting with a hand clutching the shirt over your belly, as if protecting the life inside you from your own body’s revolt. 

“Y’alright?” Daryl drawled from somewhere beside you. You nodded slowly, even if it was the furthest thing from the truth. The added stress seemed to have taken its toll. You somehow made it upright to your knees, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. One look at the archer’s face made it evident that he wasn’t buying it. “Let’s getcha settled for the night.” It wasn’t a question in need of answering. It wasn’t even a suggestion. 

“I’m not sure I can walk that far.” The longing for the warmth of the fire was substantial but not enough for you to even try to send the signals for your legs to cooperate. 

“Didn’t ask ya to.” Had you felt a little more human, you might have wallowed in the indignation of him gathering you up to relieve you of the bothersome, albeit short, walk to the fireside. You were deposited slightly closer than when you’d taken a seat on your own. The warmth was intense and welcome but still not enough to battle the cold that had taken root within your bones. 

“Thanks.” You muttered through a deep sigh. The group was now sitting in relative silence, all but Carl still awake. Your own eyes were heavy within moments. You chose to submit to it and laid over on your side. The ground was freezing but what could you do? It hardly mattered anyway, as your eyes closed and you drifted off almost immediately. 

You awoke with a deep breath that morphed into a yawn. It appeared everyone was asleep with the exception of Glenn and Maggie up on the wall. It was pleasantly warm, just the slightest bit of cold seeping in here and there. Maybe you could just coax your mind back into slumber. Stretching a leg to seek out a more comfortable position, you realized something was keeping you from moving. 

“Be still, woman. Jesus.” 

You froze, briefly holding your breath. Daryl was lying beside you with his back pressed against yours, acting as your own personal space heater. There was a part of you—a rather large part that you’d like to punch in the throat—that wanted to roll over and curl into the man. He was warm. You already knew he ran hot, you’d been pressed against him in more pleasurable ways than this. 

Violently beating down the urge to spoon with the archer, you cleared your throat, knowing your voice would be rough from sleep and vomiting. “Thank you.”

“Ain’t nothin’. You were cold, saw ya shiverin’.” He shifted slightly. “Gotta take watch soon. Ya gonna be alright?” 

You nodded with a quiet mhm already missing his warmth though he had yet to move. You would be fine, of course. Nauseous with a headache the size of Montana but not dying. That qualified as alright, right? 

You let your eyes close, too exhausted to sleep any longer but the feeling of warmth and safety was enough for you to at least relax. All too soon, the cold air struck against your back, coaxing a quiet whine from your throat. Rolling to your back, your bottom lip jutted out into the most exaggerated pout you could possibly achieve. 

Daryl looked down as he strapped his crossbow onto his back. He snorted. Mission accomplished. 

Almost. 

“Can I go with you?” You sat up, scratching your lower belly. Damn, it had itched lately. Maybe you should ask for some lotion too. You could see the exact moment when automatic refusal died on his lips, his eyes flitting down to where your fingers grazed lightly over your abdomen. 

“Well, c’mon then.” Daryl needlessly adjusted the strap of the weapon, running his thumb over his bottom lip while he waited. The beaming smile you gave him spread across your face before you even gave it permission. You didn’t even ask before grabbing his arm to pull yourself up. He huffed but you caught the one corner of his mouth lifting before he looked away. 

“Lead the way, my good man.” You waved your arm forward and stepped aside so you could fall in behind him. He was shaking his head with a huff of air through his nose that really could have been a laugh. 

“Your good man, huh?”

You stumbled within the first three steps, his words catching you off guard. His large hand easily caught your upper arm, keeping you on your feet. You scowled in the face of his smirk. “I never liked you.” You jested with a light punch to his shoulder. 

Smirk still in place, he nodded toward your belly. “Ya liked me well ‘nough at one point.” You had no comeback, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. He gently squeezed your arm before letting go, walking away like he hadn’t just taken the upper hand and used it to drop the mic. 

Face scrunched, you fought back a smile before the battle was no longer necessary. Your eyes traveled from his shoulders, down his back, lingering on his ass before continuing the journey to his boots and back up again. Images of your first few encounters slammed into the forefront of your mind. You gasped quietly, the memories so vivid that you could almost feel him deep inside of you. Remembering how he grunted and panted, his large hands exploring every inch of you. 

“Gonna check the perimeter. You two good for now?” Daryl called up to the couple on the wall, snapping you out of your reverie. You paused behind him while the exchange took place, rubbing your thighs together to at least try and stifle the throbbing ache in your core. 

What the fuck,Y/N?! Get a grip! You followed on autopilot when he set off again, your mind racing. You were suddenly hot, nearly sweating; your mouth went dry. That damned throb at the apex of your thighs just would not relent. How could you go from sick and sleepy to depraved and horny? Oh, yeah. Pregnancy. 

“Stop lollygaggin’ an’ keep up.” Daryl snapped, thankfully not looking back at you. You could feel your skin heating, knew he’d find it flushed. A sense of shame attempted to overwhelm your sudden desire. You were ogling the archer like a piece of meat dangled over a lions’ den. “What’re ya starin’ at?” He asked absentmindedly, removing his crossbow to carry it at his side. 

“Nothing.” You replied a little too quickly, your voice low and breathy. That got his attention. He came to an abrupt halt and turned to eye you suspiciously. 

“Ya okay?”

You took a step back in tandem with his step forward, nodding vigorously even as your chest heaved. His head was tilted, eyes narrowed, looking as if he was solving a particularly complicated mathematical equation. 

“Ya sure?”

“Mhm!” Too enthusiastic, not very convincing. “I think,” you were nearly fucking panting as your back pressed against an inconveniently placed tree, “I’ll just head back.” You rolled against the bark to face the trail toward camp and your chest promptly collided with his arm when he blocked your exit. 

“Nuh-uh.” Daryl ducked his head, trying to catch your eye. “S’wrong with ya?” You didn’t answer; couldn’t really, what with trying to calm the lust flowing through your veins like molten lava. The taste of blood filled your mouth, the sting of your teeth piercing your lip was a welcome distraction. “Y/N.”

Stop talking. Stop looking at me. Where was this coming from? You had appreciated his handsome features and physical attributes plenty of times without the burning need to feel him pounding into you. Your eyes snapped toward him when the same hand that had met the tree to block you came to rest against your forehead. 

“You’re warm. Fever?”

“No.” Your voice trembled even more so than your body. You pushed his hand away as gently as you could manage, trying again to walk away. “I need to go back.” Fingers wrapped around your wrist. 

“Nah, not alone. I’ll ta—”

Your mouth was on his so fast that he staggered back. You heard his crossbow hit the ground, felt his muscles tense. He didn’t react for a moment that seemed to last forever but when he did, it wasn’t what you were hoping for, what your body was craving. You whined heatedly, attempting to pull him back to you by tugging his vest. 

“Th’fuck, woman?” Daryl didn’t sound angry. Far from it. He sounded confused. And unfortunately for you, the ache between your legs had chased away any semblance of dignity you might have once had. “You’re sick, exhausted. What the hell?”

“I need—” You whined, rubbing your thighs together while your hands pulled at his clothes. He wasn’t trying to stop you. He wasn’t doing much of anything actually. Just studying you with that stoic expression while you were about to all but beg him to fuck you senseless. “Daryl, I need—”

“Tell me whatcha need.” His tone was soft, like he was genuinely trying to understand.  

“You.” Your eyes were shining, wide and wet. “I don’t know—it just—I was fine and then—”

“S’hormones.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture delicate. You wanted to kiss him and slap him at the same time. 

“Damn you and your book.” You growled. You weren’t really sure what you were expected to do now, what you expected him to do. You were friends. It wasn’t like he’d just acquiesce and fuck you sideways. When he walked away, you thought you might curl up on the ground and cry. Since when did desire become borderline painful?

A deep breath did little to aid you. Maybe you could slink off into a corner at camp and take care of things yourself. It would be awkward and you could get cau—

“C’mere.” 

You blinked at him while still trying to get your breaths under control. His crossbow was leaning against a different tree now. He was standing in front of it, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip again. You approached hesitantly, hands wringing the front of your shirt. 

“Daryl?”

Once you were within reach, he grabbed the edge of your flannel and pulled you forward, spinning you just before your body met his. Your back against his chest, you could feel him breathing on your neck, a fresh wave of arousal seeping from your core. You were sure your pajama pants were soaked at this point. 

“Daryl, are you—”

He shushed you against your ear, allowing the lightest brush of his skin over yours. “See that?” He wrapped one strong arm around you with his palm resting on your belly, the other hand lifting to point low to the ground behind where you had previously stood. “Perimeter line. Cans an’ shit to make noise.” His stubbled cheek rubbed against your neck. “One behind us too. Anythin’ or anyone comes through, we’ll hear ‘em.”

“Okay?” You shivered when you heard him inhale against your hair, taking in your scent. You nearly came from the thought of him enjoying the way you smelled. Then again, even with your sensitive senses, you found his scent calming. 

The hand over your stomach pressed just the slightest bit harder while his other hand slid up your side to cover your breast. The ache when he squeezed brought a moan out of you so quickly that he flinched behind you before chuckling. No longer wearing a bra until you could one that fit, he could feel your nipple harden, immediately shifting his hand so he could pinch the sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Ya sure s’me ya want takin’ care’a this for ya?” On the surface, he seemed ready and confident, already having knowledge of your body. His voice though, it was the most fragile, tiniest uncertainty filtering through. 

“Please.” You whined, feeling the evidence of his desire now pressing against your ass. 

“Say it then.” Daryl nipped at your pulse and soothed the skin with his lips and tongue. “Tell me ya want me.” 

You wanted him to keep talking, whispering against your skin in that gravelly rasp that was making your pussy clench and ache. Then again, you wanted him to shut the fuck up and get on with it already before you spontaneously combusted. 

“I want you. I need you, please.” Your body was so alive with need that you’d beg on your hands and knees if he asked. You groaned when he chuckled again, this time right against your ear. It wasn’t very long ago that you were shivering in front of a fire. Now you shivered while your skin burned for a completely different reason. Funny how that worked. 

“S’bout damn time.”

[elliesflwrgirl]

cw, mean!ellie, dom!ellie, sub!reader, oral (ellie receiving), face riding, fingering (r receiving), heavy degradation, knife play, slapping, spitting.

summary: enemies to angry sex!!

if u enjoy pls reblog and like!! i love u.

.·:*¨¨* ・❥・ ≈☆≈ ・❥・*¨¨*:·.

you and ellie had hated each other since the moment you met. you disagreed on everything. snide remarks were mumbled under breathes each time you were in the same room.

nobody wanted to be around you two. which is why you two were stuck picking up the shifts nobody wants to do. maria thought it was fair, seeing as when people are on patrol you two bicker and complain, making everything so much more unenjoyable. plus, ellie had a mishap a couple nights ago, some guy calling her names and she beat his ass. maria knew how to punish ellie perfectly, you. you were ellie’s punishment.

so here you two are, trudging through the woods. ellie is at least three feet ahead of you, hoping to make it there and back before nightfall.

“can you pick up your fucking pace?” ellie scoffs as she climbs over a fallen tree limb. you roll your eyes, “slow the fuck down, the suns not even setting yet.” you murmur and ellie scoffs.

she thought you were unreliable, sloppy, and irresponsible. she hated the way you were late which set this patrol back by thirty minutes, and she hated the fact that she cared where you were.

you thought ellie was rigid, strict, and so high strung. she took things so seriously, like this patrol. you had at least an hour until the sun went down, and this trail might be messy, and filled with difficult terrain, but you had time. yet she was up your ass about not being late.

ellie climbed up the side of the mountain like hill, bending down and reaching her hand out for you. you scoff and climb up on your own. “don’t need your help.” you brush off some dirt and ellie rolls her eyes. “god forbid i try to help you.”

you push past her and climb up a couple more hill sides before you reach the cliff. ellie climbs up behind you, pulling her gun out and scoping the area. you do the same.

you trudge forward, rounding the cliff corner. your foot slips, a gasp leaving your lips as you lose your footing. it sends you sliding down the rocky edge. your body hits the ground a couple feet down. “fuck,” you groan as you stand up slowly.

ellie peers over the edge, “god damnit.” she scoffs. slowly climbing down. “you’re wasting so much fucking time.” she huffs under her breath as she walks towards you. her eyes widen as she takes a look at you. “fuck, your knee.” she hisses and you look down.

your knee has a big gash down the side of it, and suddenly the pain set it. blood dripped down your leg and ellie dropped to her knees in front of you. pulling out her knife and cutting your pants off just above your knee. she ties the pants tightly around your thigh, hoping to manage the blood loss.

“cmon we have to head back.” she stands up, looking up at how far down you both are. “we’re so fucked.” you sigh and shake your head, looking around. the dark forest is thick with trees and animal sounds. the sun was setting.

“do you see why being early is so important now? you have to plan for mistakes.” she scoffs and you roll your eyes. “shut the fuck up ellie. nobody planned me falling off the fucking cliff.”

she rolls her eyes and shrugs her shoulders, “it’s gonna get dark soon, are you fucking happy? was being late worth it?” she spews as she starts marching into the forest. you limp slowly behind her, the pain in your knee intensifying each time you put pressure on it.

you make it a few feet before you wince in pain, causing ellie to look back at you. ellie wasn’t a horrible person, despite your opinion. she felt bad, but she also felt pissed. she didn’t want to have to help you.

she walks back over to you, grabbing your arm and throwing it over her shoulders. she held your hand over her shoulder, “cmon, lean on me.” she huffs and you do.

you both walk through the woods as the light slowly goes black. it was dark, you two could barely see. you could feel ellie’s heart racing against your arm.

“we have to stop. there’s no way we can make it back, it’s too dark, i can barely see.” ellie groans beside you. “there should be some type of cabin up a couple more miles.” you grit through clenched teeth as you lean your weight on her. the heat was unbearable, and you being so close to her wasn’t helping.

you come up to the cabin, ellie picking the lock and helping you in. you fall against the wall, slowly sliding down and sitting. ellie lights a lantern, looking through cabinets and drawers. finally she finds a first aid kit. she rushes over to you, dropping to her knees and untying the fabric.

you hiss in pain as she does, she shushes you. “be quiet.” she barks and she grabs the alcohol, pouring it over the gash. you moan in pain and she rolls her eyes, “fucking toughen up.”

you scoff, “how about i cut your knee open, see how you feel then?” she grins softly and rolls her eyes. “you think i haven’t been cut before?”

you lean your head against the wall and sigh, “i don’t know. i’m too exhausted to do this whole thing ellie. i cant hate you right now.” you sigh and she rasps, “such a little bitch. what you’re hurt so now you can’t talk back to me?”

you look at her, “fuck off.” she grabs a needle and thread from the box. running the needle through the fire of the lamp before leaning in closely to your leg. you held your breath as she laced the first loop through your skin.

“you can take this pain, you’ve been through worse.” she attempts to comfort you. you nod your head, biting your lip hard. the pain was excruciating, each prick of the needle had you wanting to dig your nails into ellie’s arms. after a couple minutes she hums, “all done.”

she stands up and you do too, slowly. “you know we wouldn’t be here if you just fucking listened to me.” she complains and you scoff, “i’m sorry i don’t obey you like you want me to.” you sarcastically say and she turns to you. “that’s all i want. is for you to obey. for you to listen to what i’m saying.” she scoffs and you step closer.

“i’m not some lab rat that does what you say blindly.” you hiss and she nods, “oh trust me i know that. life would be easier if you were.” she scoffs in your face, her breathe fanning your cheeks.

“life would be easier if you weren’t such a pain in my fucking ass.” you huff and she grins softly. “oh you think im the pain in the ass? show up on time for once in your god damn life! you are the reason we have to sit in the fucking cabin. you tripped like some useless bitch, and now we’re here.” she yells in your face, “oh fuck you, you’re a cunt. don’t make this my fucking fault. you are the sole reason we had to do this fucking patrol in the first place. you really couldn’t just walk away, huh?” you scream and she pushes you up against the wall.

the sting of the plaster hitting your back has you grasping at the collar of ellie’s shirt. “the fuck did you just say?” she hissed and leaned closer. her face inches from yours. “you could use some practice on restraint.” you hiss and she scoffs. a hard smack lands on your cheek as she pins your to the wall, “and you could use some work on that mouth of yours. did anybody ever teach you to shut your mouth?” she scoffs and as you go to say something else she grabs your jaw. making you unable to speak.

“there we go. that’s much better. i’m gonna talk and you’re gonna listen, got it?” she speaks in a low hum. “fuck you.” you grit out and she smiles. “is that what you want? will that make you shut up?” her words catch you off guard.

your cheeks heat, and your thighs clench together. you had always known ellie was hot, it was something you ignored. but she was here, speaking to you like this, and it was turning you on more than ever.

you whine softly in response and she scoffs, “want me to fuck that attitude out of you?”

you couldn’t give her the satisfaction. but you both needed this. she needed to take her anger out and you so desperately needed her to take it out on you. you rip her hand from your jaw, “you wanna use me to get that anger out, fucking do it. use me. maybe that will make you less of a fucking cunt—“

your words are cut short by ellie smashing her lips against yours. teeth clash and lips push against each other. “you think you’re so fucking tough, huh?” she hisses between kisses. she nips at your bottom lip, pulling your body against hers. you grind your hips against her and she slaps your cheek once again.

the sting leaving your cheek red. a moan leaves your lips at the pain, “such a pathetic slut, wanting me to use you.” she hums. she pulls you in closer by the collar of your shirt, kissing you hard.

“please ellie,” you whine as she kisses down your neck. she grins against your neck, “you told me to use you, so i’m going to, how ever i want. i wanna take my time with you.”

you scoff, “or are you bluffing? if you’re gonna use me just fucking do it, ellie. fuck that attitude out of me.” you spit through clenched teeth and she grabs her knife from her thigh holster and presses it to your neck.

“you’re such a little bitch. you think i’m bluffing? give me a reason to not slit your fucking throat right here?” she spews and you grin softly. you were getting off on all of this. each time she called you a little bitch, you needed more desperately.

she pushed the blade deeper against your neck, the pain left a sting but it only drove you crazier. “you hate me. so act like it.” you egg her on.

she grabbed the back of your neck, yanking you off the wall. pushing you down to the floor, your elbows stinging from the impact.

“you’re gonna eat my pussy like a good girl, right? gonna fuck me good?” she taunts as she undoes her jeans, pulling them off and tossing them to the ground. she straddles your head with her thighs, slowly lowering herself onto your face.

a soft moan leaves her lips as your tongue connects with her clit. you grab at her thighs, pulling her down more against your face. she grinds her hips as your tongue pushes into her. “fuck,” she whines softly and buries her hands into your hair.

“fucking me so good,” she rides your face, tugging on your hair. you moan against her cunt, sending vibrations up her spine.

your fingertips dig into her thighs, a moan leaving her lips. “shit—“ a loud whimper leaves her lips as you gently suck on her clit.

she tugs on your hair, pulling her hips up and away from your lips. running her fingers down her slit, circling her fingers slowly on her clit. you whine, wanting to taste more of her. “see how good i’m fucking myself?” she pushes her fingers into her wet cunt. a soft moan leaving her lips, “you’re nothing, fuck— you’re nothing special, practically fucking useless.” she thrusts her fingers in and out of her.

the wetness gathering at the base of her fingers. “just a dumb slut.” she spews as she tosses her head forward, a loud whimper leaving her lips. you moan at her words, nodding your head. “i’m nothing, please just let me feel you.” you whine beneath her.

she grins, curling her fingers into herself. hitting that perfect stop inside her. “that’s right, you’re fucking nothing.” she nods her head as her thighs clench around your head. her eyes roll back as her thumb circle on her hit.

she bounces slightly on her fingers, a moan leaving her lips. “god,” she whines before she leans over you, hovering above you as her fingers fuck into her.

“please ellie, i wanna feel you cum on my tongue.” you whimper and she nods her head. “beg for it. beg for me.” she demands and you whine again.

“please ellie. i need you. i need to taste you again, i need it.” you whimper and try to tug her hips forward. she clicks her tongue, “i know you can do better, baby.” she taunts and you whimper.

“god, please, i’ll do anything.” you beg one last time, your words coming out as a pathetic whimper. you thought if you didn’t taste her right now, you might die. it was fucking torture.

she pushes herself up on to her knees, her wet cunt inches above your mouth. “i’m gonna cum—“ she whines softly as her orgasm hits her. her cum dripping down her fingers as she pulls them out of her. “ellie—“ before you can finish she pushes her glossy fingers past your rosy lips.

her cum tasted sweet on your tongue, you suck softly on her fingers. “i just wanted to hear you beg.” she grins as she pulls her fingers slowly out of your mouth.

a whimper leaving your lips as she does. she moves to straddle your hips, leaning forward she kisses down your neck, a completely different energy radiating from her body.

“i wanna taste you, i want you to feel how good i can make you feel just from my fingers.” she hums as she kisses down your collar bones. her hands slipping up under your shirt, her hands roaming up to your tits. she groans against your neck as she notices the fact you’re not wearing a bra.

you whine softly, arching your back slightly. she drags her hands down to your pants, undoing them. she tugs them down, carefully avoiding the freshly stitched wound on your knee. it wasn’t taken for granted in your head. the softness to her roughness was something you relished in.

she grabs your leg, throwing it over her shoulder as she kisses around the stitches, kissing down your inner thighs. a soft whimper leaving your lips. “i’ll probably want to punch myself tomorrow for saying this, but do you know how long i’ve thought about doing this? how many times i’ve imagined this in my head?” she murmurs as she kisses slowly up your inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where you need her.

your hands dig into her hair, her eyes looking up at you as you do. you grin softly, “i fucking knew it.” you tease and she scoffs. “oh shut the fuck up.” she presses a kiss on your inner thigh before running her tongue up your slit.

she pulls back slightly, spitting onto your pussy as you look down at her. she circles her fingers on your clit, dragging her fingers down to your entrance. pushing three fingers into you, your cunt stressing around her. “fuck—“ you bite your lip, hushing a moan.

she thrusts her fingers into you slowly before lowering her mouth to your cunt again, looking up at you. “such a pretty cunt, dripping wet for me huh? you touch yourself just thinking about me?” she taunts and you scoff. “go fuck yourself, ellie.” she grins at your words before flicking her tongue against your clit.

a moan leaves your lips, “oh my god,” you toss your head back and she grins against your pussy. “look at me. tell me how good i’m making you feel.” she demands and you look back down at her. holding eye contact with her. “so good ellie,” you whimper before she curls her fingers into you, hitting your g-spot perfectly. “yeah? keep going.”

your back arches as she hits that spot, “fuck, so fucking good els” the word rolled off your tongue effortlessly, it had ellie’s stomach in knots. she hated the way this all made her feel. this with you was better than anything else with anyone else.

she thrusted her fingers into you faster and harder, your eyes rolling back. you couldn’t focus on anything else besides how good her fingers felt inside of you. your pussy clenching around her fingers, your wetness dripping down her fingers. “tell me more.” she demands and you shake your head. “i cant. fuck—“ you whimper loudly and she grins.

“i’m just absolutely ruining you, aren’t i sweet girl? just fucking you dumb, can’t even say anything.” she curls her fingers as she fucks them into you.

moans leave your lips as your head falls back. your orgasm hit you violently, your legs closing around her hand. “ellie,” you whimper and she kisses your knees softly. “you look so perfect,” she hums as she kisses your knees. “did such a good job for me. letting me fuck you senseless.” she pulls her fingers out of you, cleaning them off by sucking them clean.

.·:*¨¨* ・❥・ ≈☆≈ ・❥・*¨¨*:·.

[beware-of-pity]

I need people who would die on the hill of "Fire and Blood is completely unreliable, therefore we cannot trust anything that's written in it" to open their eyes and read a book that is similar to the structure that Fire and Blood uses to realize how wrong of a statement that is. I know that this will probably be received as a very hot take but I do not believe that everything needs to be analyzed or has to have a deeper meaning behind it. The curtain can be blue and there doesn't have to be a reason for the curtain to be blue other than the fact that it's just blue (hope someone gets the reference). Ryan Condall obviously disagrees with that, because in his quest to recreate his own 'magnum opus' of a 'Shakespearian tragedy', as he always likes to refer to it as, he has instead created the equivalent of a dumpster on fire next to the other bigger dumpster on fire that was Game of thrones.

Bland, whitewashed characters with little to no turmoil or agency going on are revered as complex and nuantical on Twitter. And if you even dare to disagree, you're immediately sentenced to the stake. Characters like Alicent and Rhaenyra could literally not even be in the episode and nothing would change. Rhaenyra was in episode 4 for not even 5 minutes and with everything going on in it you wouldn't even have noticed that. She should have been there, leading the council as Cole marched on rook's rest, her only available connection to the mainland in the crownlands, apart from Claw Isle, after duskendale fell to the greens and instead her only scene in such climactic episode is her walk of shame returning home and her, rightfully, getting scolded by her son for thinking that she could still sue for peace with Alicent, the mother of her son's murderer. The show makes the decision to have Rhaenys volunteer instead of having Rhaenyra send her there so that later when Rhaenys dies Rhaenyra cannot be blamed for it. The fundamental changes of characters like Alicent don't work because the writers are not able to sustain such changes from the source material they are deriving the story from. Going from leading the council that would place Aegon on the throne, to never even being in on the plan to usurp Rhaenyra, that her father created, is such a letdown for such a political savy character like book Alicent.

Aging her down, to Rhaenyra's age, and making these two childhood best friends, was a mistake.

What is very evident is that the showrunners have no clue, so far, what to do with a character like show Alicent. If she's not going to lead the council when Aegon is bedridden and Aemond is off to fight in the Riverlands, why doesn't she just leave?

Going from an active participant in a usurpation from somebody who needs to miss-hear or misunderstand her dying husband for her to get in on the plan, only so there is an excuse to get her on the war council is bad writing.

Making people believe that Rhaenyra was usurped because of a misunderstanding, and not only because she was a woman, is bad writing. And going to the extremes, of having these two 'betray' each other in order to have a reason to make Rhaenyra look bad in the eyes of her rivals is bad writing. Rhaenyra could have been the perfect heir, and even only because she was a woman, Otto and Alicent would have usurped her either way.

Going back to the point of this post; Timelines, ages, events, who got married to who, how many kids they had, things that you can quantify are not something that can be made up, used as rumors or form of propaganda in a history book. What you make up as a rumor is sexual escapades and a young girl seducing her sworn shield who has watched over her since she was seven. Things that can make a person look bad to glorify or uphold the good of someone else alongside all the other stuff that happens behind closed doors and makes you question where the information is coming from.

I find it so odd that the aggressive marketing team for the second season was all about choosing your side. Lol, what is there to even choose? Choose between the overly sanctified Rhaenyra, who god forbid is still searching for the peace that has already been thrown over the cliff long ago, and is not allowed yet to make a mistake. Or, Alicent, the pathetic hypocrite who made her bed and is not willing to admit it. Anything interesting about these two women is completely being cut so that Ryan Condall and Co. can continue to spread the "men are bad and violent, women are the gentle peacemakers that don't want war." which is leaning a little too heavy for my taste into gender essentialism which would make every choice they have ever made about these two characters more misogynistic than any of the action of the actual misogynistic characters in this story. Taking away the very little agency these characters had and constantly making them the perpetual victims of the patriarchy and completely sidelining any sort of character traits that they may actually develop through their actions had they actually been taking any, doesn't work for me.

This show was a mistake.

[thefawnfallacy]

The way that Hannibal and Will are never referred to as being queer is interesting. It’s not like sexuality never comes up, it does, predominantly with Margot who openly admits to being lesbian and talks about it often as a part of her character but I think that the way sexuality is framed is another mask.

Margot openly wants to kill her brother, so her sexuality is on display, she is a character that the viewer can “see”. The audience knows that Hannibal is queer — he doesn’t say it but it is shown through numerous other characters, predominantly through Will. Will is the filter in which the viewer “sees” Hannibal and so we know and acknowledge that he is a queer character.

Will is the blurriest and this is interesting in a variety of ways to me. Why does the viewer never have a clear sense of sexuality from Will? To start, Will is an unreliable narrator, we cannot explicitly trust the truth of what Will tells us about anything because it’s always just slightly shifted. He doesn’t victimise himself but he does elevate himself, just slightly, based on his current concept of morality. He was guilty when he killed Hobbes so we see him as guilty and unsteady, he was righteous when he killed Tier, so we see him through a lens of righteousness. No-one else can see him clearly and therefore, neither can we. He is not hidden in plain sight the same way as Hannibal and in doing so, makes himself very confusing to properly understand while also being exceedingly easy to pick apart.

Will is multifaceted and shifts the way he’s perceived a number of times throughout the series, while always giving the impression that he is completely unaware of it.

(side note: this doesn’t properly fit but I think it’s worth mentioning the “Will Graham is not a lesbian” line because there’s an undertone of stubborn curiosity there — is Will Graham a lesbian? Hannibal doesn’t know and Margot is quite smug about it, but that’s more gender based than anything).

Because of the ability to “chameleon” himself for any situation, he leaves a lot open to interpretation. Will Graham could be queer, he could be straight, he could a lot of things. It’s also worth noting that Will Graham experiences attraction in very different ways when it comes to men vs women based on the characters we see. With Matthew (and I’m using the definition of attraction very loosely here) as well as Hannibal, he is incredibly manipulative, like he can’t imagine being genuine with these men in the biblical sense but with Alana he is more open to being perceived and received a certain way. Molly is a more hollow imitation of Alana — he acts the way he thinks love should be but it’s hollow.

Hannibal, of course, is a curious show of attraction. He expresses a wide range of emotions towards him but never stereotypical feelings, if anything, he seems to take a sharp left when it comes to Hannibal but at the same time, he is very obviously more gentle and honest with him, like he’s trying to “show”the viewer what’s underneath. (meaning he does carry about Hannibal, we know he does, he simply shows a wrestling with these emotions that often come across as more violent or unrefined).

*this is just my interpretation, please don’t take it as gospel 🙂.

[springseasonie]

Hate me more | LMH (M)

Enemies to lovers, Camp counselors Mark x Fem reader

Summary: You really dislike Mark and you're pretty sure he dislikes you too. Ever since he came to the camp last year, he's been nothing short of a headache to you. And now you're forced to work with him this summer, and his mission is clearly to piss you off.

Warnings: sexual content, heavy dubcon/cnc themes, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), kissing (shocker), Mark is annoying, so is the reader tbh, may be errors even though proof read

Word count: 7,7k

Song recs: kiss by NCT dojaejung (this is my way of promoting the unit go stream)

A/N: I was gonna write something for the release of golden hour but this took a bit longer than expected 😭 10 days later an I finally finished it lmao please give feedback if you want it's always appreciated

"Okay kiddos make sure you have all your things before we go back to the cabins okay?"

"Yes Ms. Y/N!"

You gave them a thumbs up as you leaned on a tree, waiting for all the kids to pack up. This was your life every summer for the past 4 years. Being a camp counselor was a lot of work the first time, but by the end of the summer, you had to come back. You loved your kids and they loved you. The staff was always so welcoming and nice. That was true until Mark started the third summer.

He was such an asshole. All the other female counselors gushed over him and his looks. He was constantly flirting with everyone, using his looks and charisma to get himself out of shit. It annoyed you, and Mark instantly took notice. He would side eye you all the time and talk about you as if you weren't friends with everyone else. He didn't really care though, he enjoyed being confronted by you every time he got "caught." Mark found your anger funny, never really taking you seriously.

And now you're paired to work with him this summer.

"Ms. Y/N, where is Mr. Mark? I need help getting something out a tree," one of the kids asked.

"That's a good question honey." You glanced around the area, looking over both shoulders to try and get a sign of him. And of course, he's nowhere to be found. "I don't see him around. We're just gonna have to wait for him okay?"

The little girl nods and runs back to her friends. Ten minutes go by and you start to get annoyed. This happened way more often than you would like to think. Mark disappears to do something or someone for way too long and you're left to take care of the kids by yourself. Sometimes, you almost think it's unbelievable how unreliable he is, sneaking away leaving you alone with 20 children in a forest. But then again, it's on brand for him.

5 more minutes went by and you start to get frustrated. You have no idea what he could be doing that's going to cause all of you to be late for dinner time. "Okay everyone please listen to me okay?" All the kids stop talking and turn to you. "I'm gonna go look for Mr. Mark, but I need all of you to sit in 5 rows of 4. Now." All the kids practically run to sit next to their friends and plop down on the floor.

"Good. None of you move or get up. If anything happens, scream at the top of your lungs okay? I'll be right back." All of the kids agreed as you turned to walk into the forest, going the way you last saw him.

"So fucking irresponsible," you muttered to yourself. "How the hell am I supposed to watch 20 kids by myself?"

You could still hear the kids, so you know you weren't too far away from the area or the trail. This wasn't new for you, always looking for him. It's only been a month since the both of you had to start working together, and he was already making shit hard for you. Mark liked to go hide somewhere. it was either to get away from you, the kids, or to get blown off by some staff member. You couldn't stand it.

"I mean seriously, can't he control himself for one fucking summer," you grumble. "Fucks everything that walks. What an ass."

"Well I wouldn't say that."

Your body jumped violently suddenly hearing his voice next to you. You whipped your head in his direction seeing him sitting, leaning in a tree. Mark had his ear buds in and from where you were standing, you could still hear the music playing.

"Where the hell were you," you asked angrily.

Mark stood up and dusted his pants off as he walked to you. You crossed your eyes, eyeing him up and down. He was so smug about everything. He always looked like something was amusing to him, like there was always a joke to tell.

"Here," he said.

"Clearly. And how the hell do you even have a working phone out here. There is literally no service."

Mark shrugged, wrapping the ear buds around his phone and putting it in his back pocket. "I downloaded stuff before I came."

"Whatever, let's go," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Where are the kids," he asked you, placing his hands in his pockets as he walked.

"In the same place I left them. I had to come get you like you were a lost child. Stop leaving me with all these kids."

Mark smiled in amusement as he walked behind you. You didn't really notice, but you tend to stomp when you are angry. And fortunately for Mark, it wasn't annoying. He actually found it cute, but he wouldn't tell you that.

"Can we take a break? My legs hurt," he whined teasingly.

"Mark, stop playing games. We have 20 kids in the forest waiting for us to come back and the sun will start setting soon," you replied, sighing heavily.

"Oh please we'll be okay."

And at this moment, you've just about had it with him. You turned around, lips pursed at his nonchalant response. Mark stopped in his tracks, looking up at you as you stood on the top of the small hill. "You have one more time to piss me off or I will report you. I'm not joking."

Mark's amused expression washed away as you turned around and kept walking. For the rest of the walk back, he said nothing. Soon enough, the both of you got back to the kids who were still sitting and chatting.

You sighed, groaning quietly. "I'm gonna do another headcount. You get that thing out of the tree."

"Why couldn't you just do it," he complained.

"Because- you know what, just get it out the tree."

You counted all of the kids, double and triple checking everyone and the area around you. Soon enough, Mark got the toy that was stuck in the tree out, and everyone was ready to leave. "Okay everyone you know the drill. Get your buddy and get in line. Mark, you'll watch the back."

"Didn't sound like a question," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I wasn't asking."

"I swear to you I will kill him if I'm ever alone with him again."

"He's really not that bad," Somi said, taking another bite of her pancake.

"Please, bad is an understatement," you say as you sit down. "He fucking left me with 20 kids, and then when we got back and I told him how dangerous that was, he says 'but you handled it, right?'"

Somi laughs, clearly amused at your story. You give her a confused look, not understanding why she wasn't siding with you. "Y/N, anything he says makes you angry."

"That's not the point!" Somi stops laughing when she sees how upset you are. "He left me and 20 kids in the forest near sunset to sit on his ass and listen to music. Then got an attitude with me because I was telling him what do when he wanted to act like a fucking child. I'm tired of it, Somi. I've been dealing with this for a month."

"Shit, I didn't think it was that serious," she said, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.

"We literally could've had a bear encounter or something. I don't want to keep taking responsibility for his shit," you say, sighing heavily. "Anyways, I'm done complaining. Let's just eat."

You went to bed last night still completely angry at what happened in the forest. Mark didn't say anything to you walking back, but your conversation once you got back to the main camp was nothing short of unpleasant. It consisted of all your usual unpleasantries with him. Mark didn't really seem to care much though. You hated that you always let him get a rise out of you once you said you weren't going to do it anymore. And at this point, you had to get to the bottom of it.

You looked around the dining hall trying to find Mark. You knew he was there, he always came late after roughhousing with the kids in his cabin. Searching around some more, you spot him in line getting food. "I see him."

"Please don't harass the man," Somi begged you.

"Too late." You got up and walked to him. You really needed all this bad energy between the both of you to disappear. You weren't too sure about him, but it made every day difficult and you couldn't deal with it all summer. "Hey buddy," you said, tapping his shoulder.

"Didn't know we were friends."

The fake smile immediately turned into a frown. "Our conversation from last night isn't finished."

Mark groaned quietly as you followed his pace in the line. "Why do you keep bothering me if you don't like me?"

"I'm not bothering you, I'm trying to figure out what your deal is," you whisper yell. You followed Mark to his usual seat with the other male counselors, taking a seat right next to him. You were too focused on him to notice the confused stares you got from everyone else.

"Um, hey Y/N," Haechan greeted you awkwardly. "Is this…your new spot?"

"I came to talk to your friend if you don't mind."

"She's crazy," Mark blurted out, making the table laugh.

You smacked him on the arm, making him turn to you with the brightest smile you've seen all summer. And for some reason this was the first time you looked at him without feeling pure irritation. He was actually pretty…cute?

You couldn't look directly in the eyes, fearing that the anger you felt all morning would go away. Instead of speaking, you got up and went back to the table with Somi.

"So..what happened," she questioned.

"Nothing."

"You don't seem too upset by it," Somi observed.

"What..what are you talking about," you said, trying to deflect.

"You can't fool me, you're terrible at lying," she laughed. Somi took another bit of her pancake, but stopped laughing, giving you a look as if she found out something. "Do you like him?"

"Keep your voice down! And don't eat with your mouth full, you look like a damn kid."

"Y/N, do you like him?"

"Of course not! I can't stand the man," you deny.

Somi squints her eyes and side eyes you, but says nothing. You know she doesn't believe you, but it doesn't really matter because either way, you don't like him. "Okay..just know that today is your day to clean the kitchen."

"I know," you said with a sigh.

"And his also," she reminded you.

"Goodness kill me now."

-

You and Mark cleaned the dishes in the kitchen silently, not daring to say a word. There was an unspoken rule between the 2 of you at the moment, first person to speak surrenders to the other for the entire summer. You'll never surrender to him, no matter what it takes (that's what you want to believe anyway.) Mark had been stealing glances for about 30 minutes now, watching you clean meticulously and quietly. He always thought you were pretty, except for when you were being annoying that is. He always thought of himself as the bigger person, despite his childish nature, so he thought he should end this silent game sooner than expected.

"Did you get sleep," he asked.

"Why do you care?"

"I can't be concerned about my friend," he said. Mark chuckled softly when you sucked your teeth.

"Why do you insist on pissing me off," you say, turning to him. "Like I really don't understand why you don't like me. Since you came here last year, I've been nothing short of annoyed with you."

"It's never been my intention, but I just happen to strike those emotions in some women."

"What the fuck does that mean?" You put down the dirty dishes, crossing your arms as you looked at him with a brow raised.

"It means," he replied, turning to you, "that the more women are attracted to me, the less they like me."

You scoffed, getting back to cleaning the dishes. "You wish. You're out of your fucking mind."

"If I'm crazy, then what exactly was that earlier," he asked. You didn't know, but Mark definitely noticed how you backed off of him during breakfast. The way your expression changed, how quick you got up. It almost seemed like you were running from something, and he knew exactly what it was. "I know you like me."

"I don't like you. I just didn't want to talk to you in front of all your friends. They were laughing at me, so I left," you explained. Mark took two steps to you, his body ending up close to yours. You backed up a bit, not understanding why he was close to you, but he followed you again. "What are you doing?"

"Testing something out," he said simply.

"Look I don't know what you're testing but I'm busy. " Just as you moved away from him, he placed his arms beside you, trapping you under him. The both of you have never been this close before. Sure there were times where he had to catch you or hold you for activities in the forest, but there was nothing like this. This was close. This was personal.

"What are you doing," you asked, shock written all over your face.

"Standing here." Mark's lips curled into a smirk as his eyelids dropped once glancing at your lips. "You're pretty."

"Thank you but I really need to-"

"You know," he started,"you never told me what you wanted to talk about before you left the table."

You sighed, making a dramatic pained expression. "Mark, please. Can you back up?"

"No."

You looked up at him, surprised that his face was closer than before. One more move and your lips would've probably touched his. 'Why am I even thinking about that right now,' you thought to yourself.

"I know you wanna kiss me," he said almost in a whisper. Mark chuckled softly seeing the frazzled look on your face. You were so easy to read, always saying you didn't like him knowing damn well you wanted him. He just wanted to make you say it. He wanted to break your prideful attitude down and make you beg for him.

"You are saying insane things right now." You couldn't even look him in the eye, too afraid you would melt under his body. He was too close. You couldn't control your heart beat or your whirling mind. 'Maybe kissing him wouldn't be so bad,' you thought to yourself, but pushed the thought to the back of your head.

"But you didn't say I was wrong," he said, leaning into your neck.

"Mark, seriously." The slight whine in your voice made you want to run and hide from everyone. You felt like you were going to collapse into his hands the closer he got. His voice was so soft, but his presence was still so dominating. It was almost too much for you to bear.

"What would you do if I kissed you right now," he whispered in your ear, a smile on his face. "Would you push me away, take it and get mad, or maybe give me another one?"

You could barely look at him, let alone speak. You had no idea how to respond to him. You didn't even know if you were supposed to. But what you did know is that if he made one more move or said anything else, you would most likely lose your mind. "Mark, it's too early in the morning for this," you said practically begging him to stop.

Mark released his hand from the counter, placing it on your waist. His grip was firm as he pressed you against the counter more, body so close his leg was between yours. "You're not even trying to run at this point. You little liar."

"Mark..what if someone comes in here?"

"Let them. Why do you care? Are you scared," he teased. Mark kissed the spot behind your ear softly, making you gasp. Your body tensed up in his hand, causing him to rub small circles in your waist in an attempt to comfort you. He kept missing down your neck, moving back up to kiss your jawline.

You stood there, still as a tree. Your eyes fluttered shut, taking in the feeling of his lips on your skin. At this rate there was no point in fighting it. He had already won like he did with everyone else. You felt Mark's hand leave your waist, grabbing your chin as he ran his finger down your bottom lip.

"If you want me to stop I will."

You shook your head unconsciously, brows slightly frowning at his words. You were desperate and he definitely knew from the way you were frozen and speechless.

"Good girl." Mark kissed you softly, but deeply. His hand slowly made its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You dare to touch him, feeling like it was way too intimate. But before you could even pull away, he kissed you again, this time with even more sincerity. You didn't know why you had such a heavy feeling in your chest, but it did scare you a little bit.

"We have to finish all of this stuff in 15 minutes. You think we can make it," he asked on your lips.

"If you stop fast enough, maybe.."

Mark chuckled softly at your response, pulling away from you. He was clearly extremely turned on, but you were not the kind to help him with his problem, and he knew that. But that didn't stop his mind from drifting, thinking about how hot it would be if you dropped to your knees at this very moment.

"Wasn't that fun Y/N?"

"What are you talking about," you said, covering your face in embarrassment.

"Unwinding instead of having a stick up your ass," he jabbed.

You dropped your hands, scoffing at him. You shoved your way out of his arms, walking to the sink he was at previously. "Gosh, you're so annoying," you mumbled as you scrubbed the dirty plates.

"Yeah but you like it though."

"You wish."

"Proved my point."

You and Mark haven't spoken since the kitchen fiasco. You said a couple of words to each other when it came to the kids, but nothing more than that. You couldn't even look at him, the shame filling your body once he came into your vision. But one thing was for sure- you definitely didn't hate him as much. You were still very confused. You didn't understand where all those feelings came from for Mark in the kitchen. Maybe your subconscious? It didn't really matter, you just wanted to make sense of everything.

"Okay everyone, tonight is movie night so we need to leave a little early okay," you announced.

Mark leaned on a tree silently watching you as you interacted with the kids. You didn't know that he had conflicting feelings as well. All the teasing and messing around turning into sexual tension was not what he hoped for. He just wanted to mess with you. He wasn't actually going to kiss you for real, but when he saw the desperate scrunch of your eyebrows, how could he resist himself? If it weren't for the kids, he would definitely have his way with you right on the ground, but nothing in his life ever works right.

Mark admired the way you were with them, always so nice and careful. You were careful with anything really, never wanting to come off as irresponsible or rude. But he never cared about any of that. He didn't care if people thought he was a prick or an ass, which is why you were so intriguing to him. He never got a chance to actually introduce himself to you before you can dislike him as easily as you did.

After 20 minutes of walking back to the main site, the sun had finally set and all the kids and counselors went back to their respective cabins before going to the lake for movie night.

"So you're telling me," Somi started,"after all these months of not liking him, he came onto you in the kitchen and you didn't refuse?"

"I know, I know it's humiliating," you grumbled putting on your shirt.

"Enemies to lovers. My favorite trope."

You let out a loud embarrassed groan listen to her words. "We only kissed twice. We didn't say anything to each other for the rest of the day," you added.

"Not even for your group," she questioned.

"Well of course we did, but very little. He was..so distant," you said. You slipped into your jean shorts and put your shoes back on quickly. "I'm gonna go make sure all the girls are ready." You got up and walked outside to see everyone playing around. Just as you were about to round up your cabin, you see Mark who's talking to some of his kids. You wanted to stop staring at him, but you couldn't. You gulped as he glanced at you, giving you a small wave. "I hate him," you muttered to yourself almost as if you were trying to convince yourself it was true.

You shake your head, attempting to push what happened out of the forefront of your mind, but it's hard to do that when he's walking up to you. You turn away from his direction, hastily gathering the girls from your cabin. Just as you were about to make your way to the lake, you were tapped on the shoulder. Turning around agonizingly slowly, you face him with a fake smile.

"Hi," you said awkwardly.

"Hey, so listen-"

"I can't talk right now, we're about to head to the lake," you interrupted.

"I know but-"

"Can't talk."

Mark sighed, looking down at his shoes. He knew you were difficult, but not like this. "Can we talk after the movie?"

"Talk..about what? There's nothing to talk about," you say dismissively.

Mark rolled his eyes, walking away from you. You looked behind yourself, watching him walk back with his hands in his pockets. All that you could hope for was him forgetting whatever conversation he wanted to have with you.

Your cabin was the first to get to the lake while Mark's was the last like always. The movie started at 7, so thankfully for you, you could be left alone for 2 hours. You leaned against a tree as you watched the movie projected on the sheet quietly.

Unlike you, Mark was watching you silently, eyes never leaving your body as you stared at the screen. He knew you wanted nothing to do with him even after he kissed you, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. He's never been in a situation like this before. Having to chase after you was starting to dampen his pride, but he liked it.

He watched as you whispered to Somi about something, not able to read your lips. Maybe he shouldn't have thought to follow you as you walked away from everyone, but getting to be alone with you came rare, so he had to take his chances.

"Hey, I'm gonna go back to the cabin. I forgot something," he whispered to Haechan.

"Okay, be quick though. I don't wanna be responsible for you," he replied.

Mark gave him a dry laugh and walked away, following you from behind. Mark picked up that you were going to your cabin after a few turns on the trail. The sun was starting to set, so he began to rationalize he weird actions to himself. "It's not weird that I'm following her," he muttered to himself quietly. "I'm just keeping her safe." It was surprising how you didn't notice anyone was following you. You were usually always attentive, but it seems that you were only that way with other people.

Soon enough, the both of you made it to your cabin. You went inside with a big sigh, letting the door slam behind you. Mark would be a kind person and knock on the doors but he wasn't all that kind, so scaring you is the option he went with. Mark quickly went up to the door, opening it quietly. Your back was turned as you rummaged through a bag for something, causing you to not hear his footsteps or the door creaking open.

"Boo!"

"Fuck," yelled, body jumping violently as you turned around. "Mark?"

"Surprise."

You scoffed rolling your eyes at his jazz hands motion. "You're not funny. Now get out, this is a girls cabin."

"I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted to talk." He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as you went back to looking for whatever you were looking for.

"I really don't care, just leave," you said sternly.

Mark had enough of beating around the bush with you, the constant teasing, and asking dumb questions. He had to know why there was bad blood between you, especially after you let him kiss you that morning. "Why don't you like me?"

"You're kidding." You let out a dry laugh as you turned to face him. "I don't like you? I'm pretty sure it's the other way around."

"I'm just curious because since last year, you never gave me a chance, so I really want to know," he said, lifting his brows with a small smile.

"I want you to tell me why you don't like me first, then maybe I'll consider explaining myself to you."

Mark took small steps towards you, not being able to control the smirk on his face when you furrow your brows in confusion. "You're uptight and rude to me. And you never give me your attention unless it's to be rude with me, and I hate that that's the only way I get to talk to you. You only want to speak to me if it's to tell me how bad of a job I'm doing or how frustrating it is to be around me or work with me."

"That's not true, I-"

"I'm not done." You closed your mouth, intimidated by how commanding his voice was. "Then you go around and say to everyone how much you hate me. I know you complain to Somi and all the other counselors, and that's fine. But next time I would like to hear it from you directly."

"That I hate you?" You gave him a weird look, making him chuckle softly.

"Yes. Tell me that you hate me." He was walking closer to you slowly, arms now at his sides as he looked down at you with hungry eyes. Your arms were still crossed as you stood there, not allowing yourself to show how intimidating he was to you. Your face was calm, but your heart was beating faster with every step he took.

"I'm not telling you I hate you. Can I talk now," you asked.

"Go for it."

"You're fucking annoying and not helpful. You came into this camp last year and made all these friends and everyone liked you instantly. Everyone says you're funny and such a great guy but I have yet to see it. All you've done since you've been here was piss me off."

"You wanna know why," he said. He leaned down to your ear, a smile tugging at his lips. "Because you're pretty when you're angry."

"That's not funny," you said, looking away from him.

"I wasn't joking." Mark moved away from you, eyes going straight to your lips.

"Seriously mark, I don't care that you like to get me riled up, but yesterday was uncalled for. Do you have any idea…will you stop staring at me like that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Mark could barely concentrate on what you were saying. Your expression, the way you spoke, how close the 2 of you were. All he wanted was to just kiss you and shut you up for the night. Mark could barely keep his hands off you, every bit of self restraint coursing through his veins.

You sighed trying to back up from him, but all you did was bump the edge of your bed making you fall back. You plopped on the thin mattress placing your hand behind you to stay balanced on the bed. Mark's gaze turned dangerous, staring at you as if you were prey.

"God you're so hot," he mumbled.

"Mark," you said, his name coming out a bit breathlessly.

Before you could finish your sentence, he pinned your body to the bed. You were dead silent as you watched his eyes move rapidly along your face and body. "Mark..we can't. We have to be back soon."

"Stop fighting it. Just say you want me," he mumbled quietly. He leaned into your neck, breath tickling your skin as you closed your eyes.

You shook your head, brows furrowing as you tried to push the feeling to the back of your head. But the only thing you can think about is how his hands are leaving your wrists as he moves them down your body. Your breath hitched when his fingertips brushed against the slightly exposed skin of your stomach. You didn't stop him as he lifted your shirt, hands attaching to waist firmly.

The both of you stayed silent, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of breathing and your old bed creaking at every movement he made. You watched him as he moved his hands lower, fingers resting on the button of your jean shorts. Mark looked at you for any signs of you wanting to stop, but all he saw was the desperation on your face.

You gulped watching him unbutton and unzip your shorts, lifting your hips as he tugged them off you. Mark took his shirt off, laying it next to your shorts. He hooked his fingers on your underwear, pulling them off you quickly. You let out a small yelp when he tugs you towards him, throwing your leg over his shoulder as he moves between your legs.

'Just get on with it,' was all you could think. You were way too eager to get him between your legs, and at this point, nothing was going to stop it. "Hurry up," you said, breaking the long silence.

Mark didn't say anything or look at you, all he did was smile as his face disappeared between your legs. A small gasp of please leaves your lips as he kitten licks your core. You close your eyes, letting your head fall back onto the mattress taking in every movement. He ran his hand up and down your leg, nails lightly scratching your skin making you shiver. Needing more friction, you begin to grind yourself on his tongue slowly, but he stops you with a hold on your hips.

"We're gonna do this nice and slow okay," he said.

"We can't, we have to get back soon."

"They'll be okay. There's more than enough people out there." Before you could say anything his mouth was back on your core, tongue pressing against your sensitive bud hard. Without thinking your hands made their way to his hair, fingers running through the blonde locks. Mark kept licking at you agonizingly slow, chuckling when you whined for more. He would speed up at moments, flicking his tongue against your clit faster just to tease you, then stop.

"Please," you begged breathlessly, "it feels like I'm being punished."

"I know," he mumbled.

You smacked him on the side of his head softly, making the male look up at you with a brow raised. "I fucking hate you."

Mark chuckled, removing one of his hands from your hip. He didn't take his eyes off of you as he slid two fingers into you, pumping them slowly. Mark watched as you basically fell apart in his hands, moans never stopped spilling from your lips. He began licking your clit, but faster, almost sending you over the edge.

"Shit, don't stop," you whined softly. You couldn't control your hips as you grinded against his fingers and tongue. Your jaw dropped when he fingered you faster. Gripping his hair, your hips moved on their own as you grinded faster. You were so close, your core pulsing on his fingers. "Fuck I'm gonna cum," you whined.

Your whines became louder, the pornographic sounds of your moaning, bed creaking, and sounds coming from Mark filling the empty cabin. This is one the many times you thanked God no one was around. Your eyes rolled back and body shuddered as your orgasm hit you like a truck making you mumble curses that not even Mark could make out. You let go of his hair, plopping back down on your mattress breathing heavily.

"I'm assuming that was the first time you came in a month?" Mark slid his fingers out of you slowly, wiping the digits on your sheets. He moved your leg off his shoulder, lifting himself from between your legs.

"Do you think I'm getting myself off after hiking and being around kids in this damn camp everyday," you asked, rolling your eyes at his statement.

"No. I think you're too uptight to do that," he said with a soft chuckle.

"It's crazy that you're still calling me uptight like I won't get up and leave."

Mark didn't respond to you, laughing softly to himself knowing you wouldn't move either way. He moved off the bed untying his sweats. You watched him as he let his clothes fall to the ground, eyeing his body. Not that you couldn't get it before, but now you see why he was a big deal to the other female counselors.

"Aren't we gonna use protection," you asked, gulping when he was back in front of you.

"I don't have any," he mumbled.

"You're so fucking ridiculous," you grumbled. "You're lucky I'm on birth control."

Mark could barely hear you with how eager he was to see you lose yourself for him. No amount of mean words or insults could turn him off in the moment, every word you spoke sounded like exactly what he needed to hear. "You're so fucking hot when you're mad." His lids dropped as he grabbed your ankles, pulling you closer to him.

"Don't tease, we don't have all night," you whined.

Mark couldn't take his eyes off you as he lined himself with you, slowly entering you with ease. You looked pretty under the light of the setting sun peering through the window. The light hit your eyes perfectly as they rolled back, soft moans leaving your lips at the same time. Mark thrusted into you slowly holding your waist firmly. He wanted to savor the moment, finally able to get you under him, because even though he had you now, he might not ever get you again. It was taking everything in him to not ram into you after every move not wanting it to end too quickly.

With the way he was looking at you you thought he was gonna eat you alive. And in all honesty you would let him. It was conflicting to you that all this pent up aggression towards him exploded into sex, but you were clearly not that conflicted. You would never tell him, but you had always been attracted to him and the kiss was just the tip of the iceberg.

He slid his hands up the back of your legs, pinning them to your chest as he thrusted into you faster. Your moans echoed in the empty cabin, not even thinking about if anyone could be near. "Feels so good," you moaned.

"Who's making you feel good?"

"Fuck..you are," you whined, eyes fluttering shut as you take in pleasure.

"Good girl," he cooed. Mark watched as you slipped your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit at the same place as his thrust. His fingers were constantly kneading your legs, leaving prints in your skin. "You're close aren't you baby?"

You nodded fast, looking at him with desperate eyes. "Kiss me.. please."

Mark didn't have to think twice. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss quite literally sticking his tongue down your throat. You sucked on the wet muscle, moaning loudly on his tongue every time he thrusted into you.

"Mark..fuck," you moaned softly. Mark took a hand off your leg, wrapping an arm on the small of your back pulling you closer to him. You kissed him again, moans and whimpers poured into his mouth.

Mark moaned softly against your lips as you squeezed around him, cumming on his length. You pulled away, your lewd sounds becoming louder as he didn't stop fucking you. Mark leaned down, kissing your neck messily as you clung onto his shoulder. Mark has never had this kind of passionate feeling with a person before. It was starting to feel like more than just a sexual attraction to him, maybe he did actually have feelings for you.

"Cum in me," you said cupping his face.

Mark looked at you, brows furrowing in uncertainty. "A-are you sure? I-"

"Please baby just cum for me," you mumbled, completely taken over by the pleasure spreading in your body. "Can you do that for me?"

"Anything for you," Mark breathed out. Your words went straight to his length, his pace speeding up as he felt himself closer to cumming.

Your jaw went slack, eyes rolling back as you felt another orgasm creeping up on you. "Y-you're gonna make me cum," you whimpered.

With just a few more thrust, both you and Mark came at the same time, loud moans and groans filling the space. Mark's body went limp, laying on top of you with his face buried on the side of your neck. No one said anything for a minute, just laid there in each other's embrace trying to catch your breaths.

"I guess you don't hate me after all," Mark joked, breaking the silence.

"Only a little less."

Mark snickered as pulled himself out of you slowly. "Let's get you something to clean up with." He got up and pulled his boxers and pants on. You were sure it was because you just had sex with him, but the way you looked at him was different now. Before you were completely annoyed by his presence, but now even the little faces he made were endearing. Of course, Mark would never stop being an infuriating person to talk to but maybe you like talking to him. Maybe you liked being around him this whole time.

"If you want to go for round 2 just say it." Mark walked back to you with tissues, handing them to you with a smile. He chuckled softly when you gave him a frown for his comment. "Back to hating me I guess."

"I don't hate you Mark," you admit. The words felt unnatural to you, but they were the truth. You don't hate him, and you don't think you ever did.

"I'd like it if you did though," he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. "If what we just did considered hate fucking, please hate me more."

You rolled your eyes, tossing the dirty tissues in the trash bin across the room. "Who said it was gonna happen again?" Mark watched you closely as you shimmied back into your underwear and shorts. "What? Is there something on my face?"

"Yeah." He stood up, pulling you to him, making you gasp softly. Mark kissed you deeply, smiling against your lips when you kissed him back. "We should get back. I think we've been gone too long," he mumbled.

You nodded, kissing him one more time before he pulled away from you agonizingly slow. "Please don't be weird when we get back. I don't want to have to hate you again," you joked.

"Didn't I just tell you I want you to hate me more?"

"What do you mean you fucked him last night," Somi whisper yelled.

"Yeah..I did..right on the bed you're sitting on."

"Ew ew ew." She shot up from your bed with a frown on her face, making you laugh loudly. "Seriously what is wrong with you, why didn't you say that before I sat down?"

"Thought your reaction would be funny, and it was," you'd aid giggling.

Somi looked at you with disgust on her face, dusting off her body. "Anyways…are you guys like..a thing now?"

"I don't know. I don't think so," you answered.

"Well do you wanna be a thing?"

"Well..I think I do," you admitted. "But I don't know him that well, you know. All I did was have sex with him. What if he doesn't want anything," you said.

"You want me to be honest?"

"Please do."

"I think you should go talk to him. Like right now," she suggested.

"Now? I don't even know if he's in his cabin," you stated.

"Just go. If he's not there, go back another time. You should talk to him while your feelings are still fresh," she suggested.

Somi was right. Even though you thought it was still a bit early to talk to him, you couldn't stop thinking about him all day and all night. Throughout the day, the both of you kept stealing glances, staring at each other but not saying a word. It's been hard trying to keep your bubbling feelings for him at bay, especially when you're working so close for the summer. But Somi was right, it wouldn't hurt to try.

You nodded, sighing softly. "You're right. I should go." You turned walking to the door, but when you opened it, Mark was standing there, hand up like he was about to knock.

"Oh," you said, surprised. "Hi."

"Hey," he said, looking everywhere but at you. "Can I, um, talk to you?"

"Uh, yeah. You wanna talk here or.."

"Just walk with me. Please?" You've never seen him so nervous or unsure before. It was kind of cute. You agreed, leaving the cabin and walking along the trail with Mark.

The first couple of minutes were silent. Neither one of you said anything. The only thing that could be heard were the sounds of your feet on the dirt trial and the laughter of children from afar. But it wasn't an awkward kind of silence. It felt comfortable, he felt comfortable and warm.

"I really like you Y/N," he started. "And I know it might be weird for you, but I just felt like you had to hear it."

His words went straight to your heart, making it beat faster with every syllable. You blinked fast, not really knowing how to respond. You were afraid of coming into him too strongly, saying something that would scare him away, but you had to say something.

"I..like you too," you confessed. Your face was beginning to heat up, palms becoming clammy from the nervousness. You haven't been like this since middle school, all shy and nervous.

"So..where should we go from here?" Mark raised a brow and looked at you. You glanced at him quick enough to not want to run away from the situation all together. He grabbed your hand, making you pause mid step. Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it at this point, and you were sure he could too.

"I, uh, I don't know," you stuttered.

Mark chuckled, clasping his fingers with yours. "I've never seen you so nervous."

"I'm not nervous." You don't know who exactly you were trying to prove that too, but it definitely wasn't him because as soon as you spoke he laughed.

"I think we should start over this summer," he said. "I think we should meet each other for the first time again."

You looked at him confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he started, turning to you. He stopped walking and tugged your hand to look at him. "I mean we should start again from a clean slate. I want to get to know you better on a good note, but only if you're willing."

You gulped looking down at your feet. You must've looked like a kid with the way mark was smiling down at you. "I..I would like that. I'd like that a lot actually." You looked at him, expression going from shy to worriedm. "I'm sorry for y'know being rude and everything."

Mark didn't say anything, allowing your words to linger for a moment before he leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was softer this time, more innocent. Mark pulled away with a small smile on his face. "You don't have to apologize to me for anything. I know I've been an ass, and I'm willing to make up for it."

It was hard to keep a smile off your face and stop yourself from blushing like a kid. "If we do this, will you stop talking to me once we're out of here," you asked.

"Y/N when I said I liked you I was serious. I don't want this to be a summer fling. I actually want to get to know you before I date you," he explained.

Your eyes went wide, completely flustered from his statement. "You want to date me?" Your heart fluttered repeating his words almost immediately, getting butterflies in your stomach. "But I've been so terrible to you and-"

"So? We like each other and we should explore that this summer."

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. You let go of his hand and placed it on the back of his neck, kissing him. This was the first time you kissed him. And it felt good. It felt good knowing that you didn't have to keep trying to convince yourself you didn't like him, or that you were never attracted to him. You pulled away, eyes never leaving the man in front of you. You didn't know if this conversation would make a difference for the rest of the day or the rest of the summers, but if Mark was true to a hate he said, you could wait.

But if not, then maybe you just might hate him for real.

[highlandwhackamole]

A Grand(ish) Theory of What the Heck

I love the utterly unhinged, super detailed theories about what's going on in Good Omens, especially in season 2. I hope one or more of them turn out to be true, as some kind of glorious puzzle-box-hidden-code monstrosity. And also I think that there has to be a simpler explanation for things, for the people who are at least Somewhat Normal (tm) about this show. (... I assume such people do exist somewhere...) This is what I have been pondering recently.

The thing that started me thinking about this was this post, containing some promotional materials for season 2 that feature main characters with scenes in their heads. Like this:

Seeing this created a very similar situation in my own head, but with a nice shiny lightbulb.

All the weirdness: the car, the sideburns, the clock, the behavior of the folks of Soho, the vanishing storefront signs. The absence of God. I think this is all because everything we see is in their heads.

I don't mean it's made up. At least not entirely. Memory is already a plot point. Why not explore it on a deeper level? I've read theories emphasizing the minisodes' stories being retold by Aziraphale and Crowley. I think the whole season is like that.

You know that sort of conventional-wisdom-fact-concept that you can only dream faces of people you've seen before (or variations therein), because your brain can't make new faces up? So it just fills in what it thinks is close enough? I think that idea, applied to remembering or recollecting things, could explain so many things that are wonky in this show.

Wonky Things

Crowley parking in an impossible London location? He definitely remembers it was in London, so his brain just stuck some obvious London landmarks in there.

Awkward clattering happening when Crowley throws the stacks of books he's inexplicably carrying around the bookshop? He wouldn't actually throw Aziraphale's books! But he'd like to think he's cool and nonchalant enough to do that, and if he did it would definitely make Some Kind of Noise.

Jim walking toward the bookshop from somewhere mysterious? Maggie and Nina saw him first, and he came from that direction, so he must've walked all that way. They don't know about the elevator in the Donkey.

Aziraphale remembers tartan hills and the Loch Ness monster because he was having a jolly time driving through Scotland, so obviously the scenery must've been whimsical Scottish things.

Nina put the Honolulu roast sign up, so she remembers its presence, but perhaps the occult/ethereal visitors to her shop do not.

Maggie really did text Aziraphale about the rent, but a note through the mail slot is a much more dignified way for a scholarly angel to imagine he received a message.

On the Fallibility of Recall

This season is loaded with unrealistic inclusions. The colors are turned up to 11. Some of the scenes are more caricature than believable interaction. Remembering things never copies or reproduces them with what one might call high fidelity.

Scenes recalled by separate memories will inherently vary. One person's hefty jigger might be another person's dash. Who knows for sure where the sun was that day? You and I might recall an event having different lighting or a different color palette, sort of like viewing something with different lens filters.

According to Neil, Crowley is an unreliable narrator of the story of his Fall. He labels the variations in clock times as a continuity error in a show where Everything Is Meant, but he doesn't say whose continuity error it is. He insists that the Bentley is the same through the whole season; maybe it was the same, but remembered differently. Maybe this is part of why there's more CGI but it's harder to spot.

So What?

Is this all there is to it? I sure hope not. I like my Good Omens with enough layers to put to shame an onion wrapped in a cake and covered in a parfait.

Is this possibly the fancy footwork that's distracting from the real magic trick? I wouldn't put it past Our Gaiman. There are a lot of things one could hide in the narrative of unreliable memory.

Is this going to stop me from rewatching and repondering and remaking theories for the next couple years? Not even at gunpoint.

[raayllum]

Rayla as Callum's Deepest Truth - what does that mean? :: Or Truth in S6

Season six of The Dragon Prince talks a lot about truth.

It's a sentiment at least mentioned in almost every episode, and in a show featuring secrets, unreliable narrators, and characters routinely keeping information from or divulging information to one another, it's an accordingly complicated concept for both the characters and the show's broader narrative.

Thereby, we're going to start with the most straight forward associations in the season, beginning with Callum's plot line in 6x06 and the scene itself, and then work backwards through the various other aspects that contribute to both initial and more layered readings of the concept that we can extrapolate from other aspects / relationships the season explores through truth.

Let's begin.

Truth as Light and Love

The first and simplest readings of Rayla as Callum's Truth is that she is Light ("How do I find this light?" / "the one deep truth so bright it can fill the darkness") and Love. This isn't really a stretch, given that seeing and embracing Star Rayla causes a bright light to shine literally in canon, and successfully fill the hole in Callum's spirit with light and purify him of darkness. This also pulls on the most straight forward associations from Rayla and light in prior seasons.

We see this reflected in Janai and Amaya's blessing of the sun at their wedding—a request for "love and light"—and in their discussions with one another in 6x02. Amaya assures her that Janai can still fix what is broken for her people (put a pin that idea of broken + fixing for later) so long as she doesn't try to do it alone. Janai affirms this through her understanding of "The King with 1000 Eyes" story, stating that much like in the tale's pair of lovers, Amaya is also:

While this doesn't necessitate the idea of Truth as being romantic love for an individual, this line is one of the biggest reasons going into 6x06 that I thought maybe Rayla would end up being his Deepest Truth. This is also partially because they refer back to the idea of light and fixing, directly stating that "there is a way to fix it" through the star-light ritual, and we see this idea again with Rayla in 6x09 with Runaan.

Rayla was always set up to be Callum's alternative path in opposition to Aaravos as well (though again, we'll get to that specific path motif more later) through the framing of light. It's unsurprising then that in opposition to both metaphorical and literal darkness

we get Rayla and his love for her being a literal light.

These are the most straight forward, positive sides of Truth that we see, and the ones I think (mostly) that 6x06 plays most overtly, though there are others as well that we'll get to in a second. This is also the most straightforward the series has been about 'darkness = bad' and 'light = good' as well, even if there are always exceptions to every rule (which we'll get to later as well).

Light and love and Rayla can fix what is broken. She can save you. She can restore you. Her, and your love for her, leads you out of the darkness. Mends you. Makes you whole again.

That's some powerful stuff, especially as a basic surface level reading. (For a less than surface level one with this similar theme of broken and fixing, you can read this meta regarding Leola and Rayla.)

With that under our belts, I want to take this basis of "the Truth (Rayla) as love and light" to explore how it leads naturally into the final Rayla and Callum scene of the episode, featuring

Truth as Clarity

We've gone over light, and we'll go over purpose, but for now I want to talk about the idea of truth as clarity. To have clarity is to have a better sense of the reality of things, a founded understanding of a situation or person. The Celestial elves seek clarity through the "true light of the heavens." The clarity Callum receives in realizing and finding that Rayla is his one truth causes him to finally take the next step and begin their relationship fully again by kissing her, and by confessing his love to her.

Clarity is also derived from the basis of knowing, however—"Hold to what you've always known [...] the answer in your heart is clear / I am near, my love is here"—of knowing that is the truth. Of seeing clearly, of seeing someone, truly for who they are and loving them.

RAYLA: Why didn't you tell me? CALLUM: Cause I know you, Rayla. If I'd told you, you would've refused to go, because you never do anything for yourself.

He loves her because he knows her ("That's what makes her a hero. That's what makes her Rayla" / "She's not 'the elf'. She's Rayla") and he knows her because he loves her, because he understands her ("And I understand why you couldn't tell me") through love. His trial and Truth gave him the clarity to express it, and the purpose to do so in many ways. It's also a positive grasp of purpose, since Viren ("I have power, purpose, and I intend to use both of them") and Aaravos ("I chose to live, and my life took on new purpose") become dark, twisted, and self destructive. Loving each other makes Callum and Rayla mutually better, and it's something both are finally able to whole heartedly embrace. To love is simply to know this.

Between this, and Viren's whole assessment that "The path of freedom is the path of truth," what could possibly be bad potentially about Rayla being Callum's one Truth, or the truth in general? Well...

Truth as A Weapon / a Burden

I actually wrote a meta all about this theme in Arc 2 for season 4 and season 5 before S6 called "Knowledge as a Burden" that I recommend reading if you haven't already. However, it's not necessary as this section is about how the Truth or 'Knowledge' can be a burden and a weapon depending on what the truth is, and how the information is presented. And this eventually does make its way back to the more positive outcome of Rayla being Callum's truth, so we'll circle our way back around.

With all that in mind, let's start with the most obvious. In 6x06, "Moment of Truth," both Callum and Viren wrestle with the results of previous actions due to dark magic. In one timeline, Callum learns the truth about the pearl and spirals into self-despair; in the other, ultimately canon timeline, this truth is withheld from him, allowing him to maintain the courage and strength he needs to go through the star-light ritual ceremony. By withholding the truth, he's given clarity, light, and purpose, which we went over in the previous section.

Alternatively, Viren's arc in this episode leans more heavily onto the concept that giving Soren the letter would be shifting a burden to his son.

Are you providing clarity, light, and purpose, or are you shifting a burden to someone who needs all their strength?

Both these plot lines ultimately end in different ways. By sharing the truth, Callum and Rayla reconcile, and by withholding the truth, Viren spares his son more pain, and they don't ultimately reconcile. I'll definitely talk about Viren and Soren's arc together in S6 someday in a proper meta, so I don't want to touch on it too much here, but it is noteworthy because it reaffirms the concept in this season that sometimes, knowing the truth can make things worse, not better, and cause more pain, not less.

We see this in how Callum's dark magic use weighs on him heavily in 6x03, leading to an argument between him and Rayla, and that learning he did dark magic causes Rayla to respond differently to his request to kill him; whereas before she steadfastly refused, here she agrees because she can see the risk and concerns are more prominent. This doesn't of course make their bond better (although it doesn't worsen it, either), but their literal ship does catch on fire and sink when she demands that he sacrifice her, and promises to sacrifice him, so... It's not good, either, even if it's ultimately good that Callum shared it with her for his own sake.

Where we see the Truth most weaponized in the season, however, in moving away from 'the truth as light' is with Aaravos himself.

AARAVOS: Good, good. You've played your part well. Before you perish, would you like a reward, a small mercy perhaps? The mercy of truth. The answer to the mystery that has haunted you for a thousand years. What happened to your beloved mate that disappeared? SOL REGEM: Tell me, betrayer. What became of Aithne Solaire? AARAVOS: I should warn you, sometimes the line between mercy and cruelty can be thin. [...] It was you. You killed her. Go on, breathe deep. I know you can smell the truth from a lie, and this is a deep, dark truth. In your fury, you buried her alive.

This is, of course, a move Aaravos used before ("Arrogant, just like your grandmother. Would you like to know the truth of her fate before you meet yours? I swallowed her") with Khessa back in season three. This is also something he utilizes as a manipulation tactic with others, knowing the importance of withholding the truth until it is beneficial for you to reveal it ("Careful, if you tell the truth you will lose her") and Aaravos' own belief that "[he] never lies" which Claudia reaffirms in 6x01: "Aaravos wasn't lying."

Of course, just because something is true according to him and his worldview or vantage point doesn't mean that it is deeply, objectively true, but that's another matter.

What matters here for the sake of this meta is that the truth isn't always good. The truth can be withheld to protect others (2x03, 6x06), to protect yourself (although sometimes misguided), and to manipulate and control other people (Viren orchestrating the war in S2 and S3, Aaravos routinely, etc). The "mercy of truth" is sometimes not mercy at all, but cruelty, showcased in Aaravos revealing something he knew would devastate and harm an already dying dragon/enemy.

The truth can be cruel. The truth can be deep and dark, too, not just light and lifting burdens. Knowledge can be an terrible burden. The truth can be awful.

So can love.

So can your path.

Truth as a Path (Freedom)

VIREN: Despite all this, I am changed. I woke up feeling free for the first time in a very long time. I know I have led my sweet, brilliant daughter down the wrong path. I have led you by the hand and I have led you by my example. Perhaps now if I walk the path of freedom, you will find your path someday, too. CLAUDIA: What do you mean 'path of freedom'? VIREN: The path of freedom is the path of truth. I must face my truth... in Katolis.

The path motif was something touched on sparingly in the first three seasons, largely in response to actual, literal paths the characters were taking. However, beginning more overtly in season four and bolstered by season five, Arc 2 has steadily turned it into one of the most consistent motifs that runs throughout season six. What is created, then, is a set of binary paths. There is the Path of Freedom—moving away from the Cycle and a narrative of strength, away from trying to replicate or get back to the past and moving towards the future instead, away from Aaravos and dark magic—and the 'wrong, dark' Path of Fate that moves in opposition to it.

This is most directly stated in Viren's final dream with his past self:

PRESENT VIREN: The path of fate is already chosen. Every step I took, I took because I had to. YOUNG VIREN: No. That can't be true. No matter where you are on the path, no matter what you've done before, every step forward is a choice. I am free, and so are you.

reaffirmed in Viren's decision at the end of 5x09:

VIREN: No. I won't do it. I finally see the truth. I find myself here at these horrifying crossroads because I have followed a dark path. And worst of all, I have led my beloved daughter done this path. No more dark magic! Never again! I am done with it — and I am done with you!

and in Callum's conversation with Rayla in 4x07:

CALLUM: What if I'm on a path of darkness? RAYLA: Then take a different path, dummy!

All of this was just some of the set up that has routinely put Rayla and Aaravos in direct opposition of each other for Callum's fate. There are framing things like her and the mirror being two very overt paths stretching out before Callum when she comes back, and Rayla being what pulls his attention away from the mirror, but 4x07 made it in The Text by having her represent and literally remind Callum he always has choices: "No one can control you or make your choices for you" (which is partially pressed on in his assessment in "I didn't have a choice" in 6x03, but again: meta for another day). Rayla always represented freedom (his wings, agency) and light (all previous framing) and she still does so in being his Truth. Rayla is his Light, reminder of his freedom, and brings all those things into being his Truth; it is a beautiful culmination (for now) of Callum's choice to move away from dark magic and Aaravos' control by literally embracing his love for Rayla and all she represents in his life. (And yeah you've probably already noticed the snag here, but I'm gonna get to that in a sec.)

This connection between Truth and Path is affirmed in Terry's talk with Claudia in 6x04, in which they discuss:

CLAUDIA: Maybe I should be walking a different path, too. But Aaravos helped us. He followed through on everything he said he was going to do to save my Dad, and I promised to help free him. So should I quit dark magic? Please, Terry, tell me what to do. TERRY: Claudia, I can't. Only you can see your own deep truth. Only you can decide the path you're going to walk. You won't be alone. [...] But you have to choose the way. What do you need to find your truth?

So on top of being Light and Love, and Rayla being Callum's One Truth equalling the Path of Freedom, Rayla is just Callum's chosen Path. He chooses the Path of light, love, freedom — all good things through the embodiment of her and their relationship, much the way Callum has been her guiding star in pulling her away from her dark and self-destructive paths (going after Viren) and making measured choices (coming back in 4x09, realizing she can't/shouldn't separate Lain and Tiadrin, etc).

Okay great, awesome! Sounds like Callum has done what he needs to do, he's rid himself of the taint of dark magic and Aaravos' control by proxy. His love for Rayla got him through it. She's his path. She's his truth.

What could possibly be wrong with that?

The Truth is Everything

After season four aired, I wrote a meta about how Aaravos (Fate) and Rayla (Freedom) represented Callum's two paths going forward into S5 and beyond. Much of what was in that meta has already been touched on here, given that S6 evolved this dichotomy and this motif in largely the ways I thought it ultimately would.

However, in that past meta, I also posited that these two paths would ultimately not be as separate as they might appear, and would converge. Part of this was because S4 emphasized the importance of not treating dualities as binaries, but in reconciling them ("Now you're back. That's kind of good, and it's kind of bad" / "How can I have that and the life I want with you? [...] Just have two cakes" / "We have to hold pain and love in our hearts at the same time"). Specifically, that Rayla would be what leads Callum into getting closer to Aaravos and playing into his clutches, which 5x08, 6x03—and indeed the upped stakes for dark magic use ("if you ever use it again, the darkness and corruption will overwhelm you") coming off 6x06—feel like natural steps forward.

Because while the light, and Truth, and Rayla, is usually a Good Thing in Callum's life, as Soren points out, it isn't always.

After all, Callum only did dark magic—both times—because of Rayla.

CALLUM: I did one spell. One. I had to, to save my friends. (5x08)

CALLUM: I did it for you! Finnegrin was going to kill you. I didn't have a choice, because... I would do anything for you. (6x03)

His love for Rayla has already been his path to darkness and Aaravos just as much as it's been his path out of darkness to light and freedom away from Aaravos. Aaravos has both dark and light; so does Rayla as a literal Moonshadow elf, and her dual swords, and her juxtaposition of immense mercy and obsessive violence. He is "destined to play into [Aaravos'] hands," with Aaravos' scheme for Callum still clearly ongoing, given that Aaravos is out and the cube is still in play.

They also wouldn't 1) bring up the possession related promise and 2) have Rayla actually agree to it and then 3) have her affirm that Runaan taught her to never break her promises all in the same season if it wasn't going to come back into play, and the only way Aaravos can possess Callum again is if he does dark magic again. (I'll do a separate meta sometime after this regarding how S6 evolves the possession plotline in about every episode Callum and Rayla are mutually in, later, too.)

Just as Rayla was the reason Callum ever did dark magic or successfully got the cube in the first place, she will almost surely, inevitably, be the reason he does dark magic — breaking his promise, and opening up room for her to break her own.

RAYLA: Listen to me. If you ever have to choose between me or the greater good, do the right thing. Make the sacrifice.

Callum will choose Rayla every time, whether that leads to saving or destroying himself.

She is His Path, singular—the path of fate and free will, to light and to darkness, to destruction and salvation. The various dualities in their relationship will all be reconciled and brought to complete fruition.

And that's everything.

[surelysilly]

i love your King Of Hell Danny (superphantom) au and i would greatly (very much) appreciate it if you could talk more about it (King Of Hell Danny) i love his (danny) smug cat energy (smug) in all of your drawing for it (hell is under New Management)

i hope you're ready for this some rambling but ask and you shall receive!!! yes i waited to post this for superphantom week i gotta shill for my own event, y'know :9

So. You want to know more about King of Hell Danny, is it?

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

Well. Well. He's certainly Danny. Or more specifically I've decided as of recent, Dark Danny. I'm waffling on whether he's Dan Dark Danny or just... Phantom sans Plasimus. The latter feels less likely as i try to flesh him out, but you never know with these guys... he does prefer to look like his 14 yr old self though.

But whatever version he is of himself... it's post-TUE, and he hates himself more than anyone is allowed to know.

Not sure exactly how he ended up in the SPNverse (portal probably!), but he'd definitely prefer going back to his own world/dimension in a heavily buried sense of self-flagellation and unreliable narrator-ness.

Everyone is waiting for him there, not here, wherever he is exactly. This implies anyone is left alive, but he never said that. People (Crowley, etc.) just assume so.

and he's the worst lil jerk you could ever meet, at a first, second, and third, glance, anyway.

Smug cat, indeed. He does what he wants, when he wants, how he wants, and taking over Hell felt right. (isn't that where he'd go? he thinks, after learning Hell is actually real.)

he's overpowered for sure, but it also comes from a misconception for what he is. Not a demon, not human, a secret Third Thing: weird ghost.

i like to think most regular ghost counter measures work on him, but no one thinks to try them because that ain't no ghost??? He plays the part really well though, pretending to be a demon (and gets mislabelled a crossroads demon for his red eyes) -- it doesn't bother him to kill people, but he doesn't go out of his way to do it anymore.

KOH!Danny having it out for the Winchesters is a very thoughtless and fun thing, and it would piss him off when they try to summon Crowley, but in all actuality, he'd probably end up begrudgingly working with them or something.

And ultimately betray them.

I also think his goal would be to fuse with Lucifer when he's freed from the Cage. That should give him enough power to bust a hole back to his OG dimension, right?

maybe. Who knows.

You can certainly find him at DIY skateparks across the globe. He's an asshole to anyone and everyone, but god have mercy on anyone looking to cause trouble while he's trying to have a good time (he feels guilty about it, though, having fun -- it's a circle of shame/guilt/fuck it we ball mentality, here for a good time not a long time).

he can 'see' Castiel's wings and if in his presense, will pluck at them because he's annoying like that.

Crowley became his lap dog though, regardless of intial beheadings because... Hell generates a lot of paperwork the way Crowley was running it, and KOH!Danny don't got the time for all of that.

eventually I'm sure someone will figure him out, ghost weaknesses and all, but it's not 1:1 SPNverse ghost: no bones to burn, no records of him being alive ever, etc., but he's definitely solid enough.

i could see a later quest like what the Winchesters did to find Crowley's remains, but they'd spiral down a hole of "where hell did this creature even come from???" and the Men of Letters/Angels/anyone wouldn't know jack about what he even is exactly.

i'm so rusty on SPN though... but those are my cobbled together ideas. I'd place him mid-ish seasons Supernatural (because ive only really seen s4 thru s8...) but i think the 'hijinks' of later seasons could be fun with the seriousness of early, early seasons sprinked in!