#i love and hate the fact that i like and yearn for human connection so much that i get attatched to people so quickly and easily

[loveswrites]

hi love, I don't know exactly if you write reactions, I thought I would found something like this on tumblr but I didn't so i'd like to request a reaction of the vampires (in general, not just the Cullen's if it's ok, of course) to reader being their blood singers, like how would they deal with it and stuff (don't need to be poly if you don't want to)

thanks lovely <3

Head Cannon Cullens x Reader X Volturi Reacting to you being there blood singer.

Hi love, I hope this was kind what you were talking about. I've never done one like this before but I think this is what you meant. I hope you like it. I didn't get around to doing everyone but let me know if you would like me too.

Love <3

Word count: 871

Edward

~ Avoids you constantly until his curiosity gets the best of him. Always quoting Curiosity kills the cat. It’s like he forgot he himself was the cat. Yearns to be with you 24/7 but also aches to be away from you 25/8. The fact that he can’t seem to stay away from you kills him inside. The fact that he might be the one to lead you to your death kills him even more. Can’t help but to love you up close instead of afar. If he went more than a week without your scent he loses focus that he can’t regain. 

“Edward.”

“Edward!” Emmett yelled, snapping Edward out of his lovesick high.

“What?” Edward frowned, eyes still unfocused. 

“He’s doing it again!” Emmett yelled, shaking his head.

Jasper

~ Jasper would have the hardest time out of all of them. Jasper being scared of hurting you would over shine his love for you. But the fact that he’s even trying to have this much restraint when it comes to you shows how deep his love goes. He wouldn’t trust himself to be alone with you for more than two minutes. So count on spending constant time together with him, Edward and or Alice. 

“Come closer Jasper, Please I trust you.” You pleaded.

“I can’t.. I really wish I could But.. I’m just not strong enough.” Jasper stood in a corner with his eyes closed tightly. 

You sighed in slight disappointment. 

“I’m truly sorry, darling.” He spoke softly.

Alice

~ Alice would be one who can handle it as long as your blood stays in your veins. The moment it’s reached the oxygen of the outer world she gets upset at herself for her personal faith being so weak. Even though she’s seen that she never hurts you in the future she wonders if it’s her constant worry that keeps you safe from her nature. 

“You told me you wanted to take me shopping today.” You smiled at Alice. 

“I’m sorry but today won’t be a good day we’re going camping today. It was late notice.” Alice responded upset that she doesn’t know how strong she is when it comes to you. 

Carlisle

~ Carlisle though your blood, your scent is more tempting. He wouldn’t have much trouble with it. In fact your scent would be calming to him at the end of the day. After a long day at the hospital surrounded by so many scents of others yours is the only one he couldn’t wait to smell all day. 

“I missed you today.” He said smiling as you kissed his lips softly.

“Long day at work?” You smiled back.

He silently nodded softly stroking your hair. The simple act of love was like it made your scent smell sweeter. He was in love. 

Rose

~ She hates you at first. She takes pride in the fact that she’s never had one drop of human blood. And then here you come like you were made to be her number one temptation. And she hates you for that. She doesn’t talk to you. She doesn’t look at you. She stays ten feet away at all times. You and Alice became friends so the fact that you're sitting in her house. On her couch. Making the house smell like nothing but temptation from the devil himself she hates. She feels like Edward, which she also hates.

“Hey Rose!” You yelled trying to catch up with her. She brushed past you when you got up to greet her. 

“Rose?!” You yelled once again. Slowing down you frowned. 

Why doesn’t she like you?

Caius

~ You would have to build a very strong connection with Caius for him to even care to keep you alive. Once he smelt your scent he wanted nothing more than to drain you dry and watch your body go limp. In fact he got a thrill out of the thought. But he thought blood singers only come once in a lifetime and to kill you now would be a waste. Especially since in his lifetimes of living he’s never smelt a scent like yours. As your connection grew because your life literally depended on it he thought Maybe I’ll just have a sip every now and then.

“I love this painting.. What does it mean?” You asked, hands gliding against the moist paint. 

“It represents the desperation of death.” Caius spoke, wrapping his arms around your waist hiding his face in your neck hovering his fangs over the very line of your life.

Jane

~ Jane she wouldn’t know what to do with this information. Does she just kill you and get it over with or does she play with her temptations? She’d keep you around But when upset she can be very hostile and her actions may be unforgivable so keep your distance when you hear she’s had a bad day.

“Jane I saw this beautiful hair pin that I think would-”

“If I just suck you dry do you think you’d still be able to talk this much?” She spoke glaring at you with her piercing red eyes.

Once no answer came from you as you stood there with wide eyes she simply walked away from you.

[genshin-side-piece]

Love Me True

Follow up to Love Me Tender

Warnings: Yandere Content, Dark themes, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Touching, Sexual themes, not smut (sorry),Not Fluff, Uncomfortable themes, Angst, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

At times, it was hard to hate Neuvillette. His kindness and his willingness to do anything for you almost made you forget the circumstances of which he kept you. The life he built for you wasn’t a bad one. In the correct context, it could be described as tolerable. He wasn’t abusive or beastly. Outside of his wandering hands, one could even say he was gentlemanly. He provided for you. He protected you and on some very weird level, you believe he loved you; or at least he loved you as he understood what love could be.

Many had it worse than you did. That fact didn’t stop you from thinking that being returned to your old life was still preferable. You missed the freedom you had once taken for granted. It wasn’t like the so-called freedom you had here. In your old life, you weren’t bound by Neuvillette’s endless rules. You weren’t observed every second of every day.  You weren’t cooped up in a drafty house, subject to restrictive diets for your health and dress codes that encouraged Neuvillette to look with his eyes long before he ever used his hands. You could hide from the world, from him if you needed too. You could lock your door. You missed being truly free. Now your freedom was limited to being able to wander the prison you shared with your captor, provided he decided not to chase you from one end of his house to the other. 

The only thing that made the life you had now tolerable was that Neuvillette was seldom home. His work kept him busy, so in turn, you were generally left alone. You had your little wardens in the melusines, but they were generally no trouble. Unlike the Iudex, they knew how to keep their distance when you preferred to be left alone. They, like him, swore your imprisonment had been done for your own good. All of them claimed the world was far too dangerous for you. That you would be safer here, under his watchful eye. He was such a good provider, was he not? Didn’t the good monsieur keep you in such excellent comfort? Weren’t you given all that you needed to be happy? That’s all they wanted for you, both of you, was to be happy. From their perspective at least, one of you had achieved the happiness they clamored for. It didn’t hurt that from Neuvillette’s perspective, you had brought warmth to what had been an empty life. 

You could almost pity him in his loneliness. The key word being almost. Over the many months that you had been with him, you had certainly become somewhat sympathetic to his circumstances; born to blend in yet be kept apart, abandoned at birth, forever fated to be alone. It couldn’t be an easy existence. Not when his most relatable trait was that he yearned to understand himself much in the same way that all beings searched for their own understanding. In the few conversations you’d had with him, which were mainly him speaking at you and you simply trying to ignore him; he had confessed he had long wished to understand the emotions that plagued him. Whatever he was, didn’t process them in the same manner as humanity. So the concept of human emotions was a foreign thing for him. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t manage to understand them. That was where you felt you came into the odd arrangement you had with him. Neuvillette learned through observation. Clearly he felt he could learn something from you. What that was, you weren’t sure. 

His self professed connection to you didn’t help your confusion. He was insistent on protecting you to the point that he had isolated you from the world. To you, him bringing you here was an irrational reaction to a problem that didn’t exist. Up until a few months ago, you hadn’t even known him. Like many other citizens, Neuvillette was little more than a name to you. You hadn’t cared about him one way or the other. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think that not only would the Iudex of Fontaine personally track you down during a holiday in the mountains, but that he would proceed to hold you hostage ever since. It was like a bad dream that you couldn’t wake from. In the long hours where he was away you had wondered if he expected you to help him with the affliction that was his emotions. You fantasized about that being the key to your freedom. He would finally figure himself out and there would be no need for you anymore. You would be free to resume your life, presumably in another country. Somewhere landlocked, with no large bodies of water, just to be safe. It was a nice fantasy, one that made you smile whenever the rain came. Your new home would be sunny and warm and free of anyone who was emotionally impotent. A hermit on the side of a mountain seemed ideal for that or perhaps you could trick an adeptus into hiding you in a domain. Whatever it ended up being, the last place you wished it to be was Neuvillette’s drawing room. Like the man who owned it, you’d had enough of both.

For a man who held Fontaine’s fate in his hands, he was woefully unobservant of his own surroundings. There had been far too many nights where you had woken to his clammy hands running themselves all over your body. You had endured his hot breath fanning its way across you skin as the wet sounds of him working his fist over his c*ck filled your ears. Your instinct was always to pull away, but the second you tried to move, his hold on you tightened like a vice, leaving dark bruises that lasted for days. He never apologized for them, but his eyes always tended to linger on the spot where they were during the day. It was difficult to know if he was truly sorry, or if like your whimpers when he left said bruises, the knowledge that they were there spurred him on. He was always quick to return to your side when you had them, often opting to stay overnight so that he might hold you in his sleep. On those nights, he never sensed you were awake. He never stopped himself from overstepping his place as your jailer. The best Neuvillette had done was on the mornings where he spent the night, he would quietly excuse himself, offering you a reprieve from the ritual that was him watching your morning levee. You were still expected to endure his company at meal times, but for that morning at least he left you alone. The fact that he could act as if nothing had happened, that you hadn’t woken with his entire body wrapped around yours, was utterly annoying. It killed any will you had to help him. Instead, you sought to torment him in any manner possible. You had long resolved yourself to make him suffer, even if the suffering was nothing more than a minor inconvenience for him, it was still something.

Suffer, he did.

Endlessly. With cause. From clothing, to scents, to distance, to attention. You learned what cut him the deepest. What tormented him the most. What punished him to a level that you found gratifying. It was petty. Were you still in your old life, it would have been beneath you to be as you were. You hadn’t liked being petty. It was a waste of time and energy. You had always thought it best to take the high road. Fate caught up to everyone in this life, eventually it would find those that had wronged you. In this life though, it was one of the few things you were allowed to not only have, but exercise with complete regularity. You could burn your excess energy and boredom on punishing Neuvillette for his crimes against you. It was only fair that the chief justice got his. If he was going to sacrifice your freedom in the name of protection, then the same could be done with his love. His love could suffer for the sake of your autonomy. After all you had been put through, it was no less than he deserved. 

[not-goldy]

God I can't really stand JK anymore.

Everything regarding him went a downhill since 2023. The way he behaved changed a lot.. LIKE A LOT now he's way cockier as if no one in the whole world can top him and he doesn't need to listen to anyone giving even good advises, how he used to present himself and looked changed drastically now he looks like a junkie, how he used to perform changed so much now he doesn't half half the energy or stage presence and doesn't give af about making mistake a ton times while before he used to perform with extreme perfection. He's listening to their PR teams too much like where did I go live when I miss fans went ? Now he's listening to their cheap promo tricks. His work ethics is completely opposite from what BTS was.. he's working with payola king of the whole industry and buying success. Releasing a 100 version and a western collab with some B grade pop artist. The songs he releasing are basically shit now when he used to release magic shop, film out, your eyes tell and still with you kind of gems.

The ONLY thing connecting me to him now is Jimin. There's no way to avoid JK when you are a Jimin stan. But i'm WAITING for the day Jimin finally open his eyes and get out of this toxic relationship so I don't want to put up with him anymore.

You see, your problem is that Jungkook is not Jimin. That's your problem. Half way through your comment, I smiled to myself and I thought well this Anon would certainly love Jimin then if these are the qualities they looking for in an idol. only to get to the end of the Ask to find out you actually do like Jimin💀

That complicates things for me.

Where should I even begin

There's nothing wrong with having a preference. There's nothing wrong with having a bias.

I'm not gonna come for your throat on this.

You prefer Jimin's work ethics and prefer how seriously he takes his public relations, how he puts on effort and that's alright.

BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO HATE JUNGKOOK just because he's not YOUR PREFERENCE.

If you keep that up you and I gon have a problem.

Do I think Jungkook can take a page or two out of the Jimin idol manual? Sure.

As much as I looove seeing Jungkook live his life on his own terms not giving a fuck what anyone cares- some times, in certain areas I do think he could use that self regulation.

Yet on the other hand, I don't find Jimin's over regulation appealing either. I've ever said his kumbaya persona, caring too much what others think, trying to be perfect, self regulated, evolved, controlling his words, his attention, being overly polite, smiling when he should be cussing people out all in the name of his consciousness of the fact he is an idol really REALLY FRUSTRATES ME.

Jimin struggles with this. The never mind tattoos, the song lyrics yearning for freedom, set me free- where do you think that comes from?

I don't know how we can call ourselves stans and not sense some of these things: the members constantly telling him not to care what people would think, to do whatever he wants,- even Jungkook openly reminding him HE IS AN ADULT and shouldn't care about certain things.

Jungkook is good for Jimin and Jimin is good for Jungkook.

Jimin is the leash and restrain Jungkook needs and Jungkook is the freedom Jimin craves.

Please don't come for jikook I'll paint you and it ain't going to be pretty.

Also remember, this is a human being you are talking about. He is not an alien. He is human just like you. That vitriol and animosity towards him is so not necessary.

I can't help you unhate him.

But please, be a good human.

He is a relatively young man navigating overwhelming situations. I personally think going solo has taught him so much and there is much more he'd learn along the way.

And please, it's slander to say he half ass his performance- have you seen his tiktok? THE THIBGS HE CAN DO WITH HIS WAIST- MY GOD!

Oh and did you see Tae's smoke challenge? I may or may not be addicted to the part he wines his waist- lolay lolay lolay

Sorry I had to go and watch that clip again.

Liste, the point I'm making here is, It's his journey and his choice to decide the type of idol he wants to be. You may like it or you may not. That's a you problem. However he's responsible for his own reputation and his own success in the industry and I think he is still learning to hone his values and filter his choices through those values.

Give that man a break .

AND FREE JUNGKOOK.

Peace out

[jnjzksekfjvn]

Your post about how america acts very different as a public performance for Europe and its nonsense vs more chill and natural with other American continent nations and esp Canada is eating my brain cause Hard Agree you got any more thoughts on that

My America (continent, mainly focusing on the northern side) headcanons pt. 2

This was mainly about the way that Europe has caused america to assimilate into a colonialist imperialist mindset (as well as abusing america during the colonial times) and this has caused america to hold a grudge against the europeans... however he also yearns to be at the same "level" as them (due to european superiority, tied with white supremacy being drilled into his head and pretty much every southern hemispheres nations heads during the colonialist era) so he tries to perform as a powerful individualist nation (capitalism being the root cause of why imperialism happened in the first place) and push others down at the same time... He tries to act superior compared to all the other american nations but behind closed doors (with canada and to some extent mexico) he is more natural and does not feel the need to "perform" for approval, this is because he sees himself as superior and feels less jusged by them

There is a hiarchy to this, and north america is closer up to "european in group" (read abt facism in groups and out groups) than south american nations are. For this reason, america will treat the southern nations as "lesser than" and often be dismissive towards them, however, as much as he hates to admit it (due to his yearning of being closer to european superiority) he shares more traits with them than he would like to admit, and they are his brethren as much as canada is, even moreso in certain aspects (such as mexico, who geographically is more similar to america in terms of biomes, and has had more notable cultural exchanges, aswell as the fact that the cherokee people were geographically closer to the indigenous groups in mexico than the canadian indigenous groups ex. cowboys FROM WHAT I KNOW... idk) because of this he holds them at a distance because he knows if he gets too close he will see the humanity in them, which is not something you're supposed to do to people you consider "inferior".

Americas relationship with canada is complicated to say the least. The way I mainly see it is a distinction between their relationship pre independence (during british rule) and adulthood... It is important to notice that both america and canada came from EXTREMELY different climates, tribes, held different traditions, yet were grouped together as a conglomerate by the british and the french. (generalization of indigenous peoples) I want to highlight this specifically, which is why I made canada inuit and america cherokee. britain forced canada to move to virginia to live with him and america, and this caused canada to be extremely alienated and confused, thesituation for him is pretty much this: weird looking guy comes in kills your family then moves you to a completely different place and abuses you and some other kid who is also weird and different however you and thekis bond over being abused by the same guy, and slowly become depentent on eachother not for fun but for SURVIVAL.

Now how this translates into adulthood is interesting because america is still just as codependent (psychologically) to canada and canada is dependent on him too, however they are both still constantly competing for the attention of european nations (tying back to euro superiority mindset) and this caused them to distance themselves from eachother... they still love eachother very much and will hold a shared grudge against england for what he has done to both of them, a grudge causing the relationship to be closer than others.. Canada is also dismissive to south americans yet he lacks the actual social connection with them (however he and a lot of them share similar sentiments over europe, both in rooting for their approval and hating them simultaneously) so his dismissal is more hidden since he wants to keep up his "friendly with everyone" demeanor... while canada and america fight quite often it pains them to see glimpses of eachother especially childhood memories they have of eachother so they distance themselves in order to avoid the feelings.

[lesinquietes]

Ighhhhhhhh...farmhand shizuo...need it like i need air...no izaya tho hes a city slicker

Lmao no but imagine Izaya heading into the countryside after that last fight he has with Shizuo and just fucking hating it 🤭

Shizuo is more born for county life; especially with that super strength of his. The man belongs on a farm, where he can’t hurt anyone by accident and feel like total shit afterwards. I can see him being insanely gentle with the animals, stroking them, and making sure they’re well fed. Yeah, maybe there’s an incident where he kills a cow or two by mistake, but you know he doesn’t mean it. He really resonates with the bulls. They’re powerful and angry, too. Sometimes, you find him petting them in the evening as they’re drifting off to sleep. You’ve never seen the mighty creatures so calm in the presence of a human.

He regularly works in Tom’s fields, as his farm hand. You’re a farmer who helps Tom out every once in a while, too. That’s how you both meet. The connection isn’t instantaneous, but it certainly develops over time. You’re quite guarded; so is he. When you finally get to bonding, it’s a powerful event of two souls who comprehend the meaning of true pain and suffering crashing into one another, forming the highest tidal wave of emotion you’ve ever felt.

It’s hot in the afternoons, causing you both to take shelter in the barn for a while. Tom doesn’t mind; in fact, he’s more fixated on honking you two up with each other that he doesn’t care if a little work gets neglected — so long as it’s in the name of love. But it’s a slow burn. Shizuo doesn’t know how to talk to others, much less people he finds attractive. Maybe you’ll have to make the first move. Tom hints at this several times in casual conversation. He teases you for spending time with the blonde, and then inquired as to when you’re going to ask him out for a drink. Eventually, you pick up on what he’s suggesting.

You wind up inviting him to the local bar after work one Friday evening. He promptly accepts. You think it’s cute when he clarifies whether or not you want him to arrive as a friend or as your date. His cheeks tint when you wink at him and allude to the latter. Fuck, he’s wanted you for months. He never dreamed you would reciprocate his feelings. It stirs an unfamiliar sensation in his heart. Perhaps it solidifies his attraction to you, for in that moment, he silently vows to keep you for eternity. He can see a future by your side. You two get along like old friends. You’re accepting of his errors and trusting that his heart is in the right place. He’s lucky to have you.

The date is everything you need it to be. You share a few drinks and talk about your personal lives. You share a few things about yourself, as does he. You learn that he has a brother who’s rather famous. He doesn’t disclose a name, though. He learns that you’ve had to be a fighter most of your life. He finds your story endearing. The urge to protect you, so that you’ll never have to fight again, floods his chest with an indescribable amount of joy.

He drives you back to your place after the night comes to a close. You ask him to come in. He declines. He doesn’t want to be tempted to fuck you. The first date is a test to see if the magic is there, with or without sex. Although he wants to indulge in what your beautiful figure has to offer, he must refrain until he’s positive you want to keep seeing him. And you do — of course you do. He’s charming and sweet. You’ve always appreciated his company. The last thing you want is to part ways. It lights his heart ablaze to witness you crave him in a similar manner to which he yearns for you.

When he gets home, he drafts a letter to his brother. It details his first date with you, and how he believes he’s found his future wife.

[hellomisst]

I'm never moving on from The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

The angst. The yearning. Incredible.

Adeline LaRue was a young girl from a small town dreaming of a world bigger than what she sees. Then, out of desperation, she made a deal with the devil.

Or is he the devil?

“I am not some genie, bound to your whim." He pushes off the tree. "Nor am I some petty forest spirit, content with granting favors for mortal trinkets. I am stronger than your god and older than your devil. I am the darkness between stars, and the roots beneath the earth. I am promise, and potential, and when it comes to playing games, I divine the rules, I set the pieces, and I choose when to play. And tonight, I say no.”

And so her wish of freedom was granted... with a price. She has all the time in the world to enjoy life and to not be bound by anything. Being unbound, then, means no one would remember her. Such is the price when you make a deal with the gods that answer after dark but you do not know what you want and you do not clear up your own conditions, rules, and limitations.

Spoilers past this line.

Addie named Luc, and by doing so, she humanized him.

I CANNOT MOVE ON from their dynamic. For years, decades, centuries, no one can remember her. No one can mention her name, not even Addie herself. Only Luc who has been taunting her, pushing her to give up her life.

Now, let me clear this up: I DO acknowledge that the power dynamics between them play a huge role in their relationship. Her craving love and attention stemmed from the fact that no one else can know her deeply enough to create a legitimate human connection, affection, and relationship. Thus, her growing feelings for Luc became inevitable. Luc had full control over her and her life, while all she wanted was freedom to live. With this, let me expressly say that I fully understand and support Addie's scheme in the end (...but I cannot deny that I'm rooting for Luc once and for all admitting defeat, and Addie and Luc having a healthy relationship 😭).

OKAY. So. WHEN THEY STARTED FLIRTING??? I KEPT WANTING TO THROW THE BOOK TO THE WALL!!! Like, DAMN!!! WHY CAN'T Y'ALL JUST BE TOGETHER???? Luc's rizz is undeniable as fuck. And Addie's stubbornness mixes well with his smoothness, thereby successfully intoxicating me.

Luc lifts his glass. "Happy anniversary, my Adeline." She looks at him, lips parting with their usual retort, but then stops short. If she is his—then by now he must be hers as well. "Happy anniversary, my Luc," she answers, just to see the face he'll make. She is rewarded with a raised brow, the crooked upturn of his mouth, the green of his eyes shifting in surprise.

Now, I know that when she was with Henry, they were really healthy. Sure, even Addie does not know if it was love or if it was all just because he was the first human to ever see her as she is. I thought they would be together and overcome Luc's deals. But no.

Even then, Luc can really sweep you off your feet. One thing I hate is how they blame Luc for everything. He is the darkness. In our current world, he is what we call the devil. Of course he is an opportunist. Of course he would always take the upper hand. The bad side of their deal came up because they would not look into the intricacies of the deals they are making. I also acknowledge that Luc always comes in times when one would not really be in the right mind to make a serious deal... so there's that.

BUT. The angst really comes in to take over you. It was chapters in the making. It's a slow burn you wouldn't notice

"You told me once that we were alike," he says, almost to himself. "Both of us... lonely. I loathed you for saying it. But I suppose in some ways you were right. I suppose," he goes on slowly, "there is something to the idea of company." It is the closest he has ever come to sounding human. "Do you miss me," she asks, "when you are not here?" Those green eyes drift up, the emerald even in the dark. "I am here, with you, more often than you think." "Of course," she says, "you come and go whenever you want. I have no choice but to wait." His eyes darken with pleasure. "Do you wait for me?" And now it is Addie who looks away. "You said it yourself. We all crave company." "And if you could call on me, as I call on you?" Her heart quickens a little. She does not look up, and that is why she sees it, rolling toward her on the table. A slim band, carved of pale ash wood. It is a ring. It is her ring. ... "Put it on, and I will come." Luc leans back in his chair, the night breeze blowing through those raven curls. "There," he says, "Now we are even."

The way my stomach erupted with butterflies! The slow confession. The subtle dropping of hints of their feelings here and there. Everything keeps you on your toes. "Will they or will they not? Is there something or not?"

"At least he keeps me company." Those emerald eyes trail over her skin. "So would I," he says, "if you wanted it."

And so I was kept thinking. Will Luc ever confess? Will Addie ever... agree to it? Accept it? Forgive him?

What's been keeping them apart is the fact that Addie sees Luc as the devil. As the one who made her life miserable. Which is true, to be fair. So I won't ever blame her. Trauma is there and they are bonding.

Like I said, I understand Addie and I understand that there's power play here. Her walls are up, she keeps her guards up, she's hostile towards him, and she's very suspicious because he does not play fair. He never did. But then he started to open up. He started equalizing their position and power.

From what I understand, throughout time, Addie became less and less human, and she learned to hate more and more because the only one who became constant in her life is Luc. On the other hand, Luc became more and more human, and he learned to love and understand more and more because (probably) the only person he has ever spent time with constantly is Addie.

THEN.

"Even if everyone you met remembered," Luc says, "I would still know you best." She searches his face. "Do I know you?" He bows his head over hers. "You are the only one who does." ... His voice, molded to the hollow places in her as he says, "I want you." And then, again, "I have always wanted you." Luc looks down at her, those green eyes dark with pleasure, and Addie fights to hold her ground. "You want me as a prize," she says. "You want me as a meal, or a glass of wine. Just another thing to be consumed." He dips his head, presses his lips to her collarbone. "Is that so wrong?" She fights back a shiver as he kisses her throat. "Is it such a bad thing..." His mouth trails along her jaw. "...to be savored?" His breath brushes her ear. "To be relished?"

I SCREAMED. Internally. BUT IF I WAS LIVING ALONE, I SWEAR TO GOD. If I didn't care about the book and if it wasn't so expensive (fuck inflation), I WOULD'VE THROWN THIS TO THE WALL SCREAMING.

Anyway, Addie's stronger than me because I would've fallen for him and his tactics over and over again...

"I love you." They are in New Orleans when he says it, dining in a hidden bar in the French Quarter, one of his many installations. Addie shakes her head, amazed the words do not turn to ash in his mouth. "Do not pretend that this is love." Annoyance flashes across Luc's face. "What is love, then? Tell me. Tell me your heart does not flutter when you hear my voice. That it doesn't ache when you hear your name in my lips." "It is my own name I ache for, not your lips." The edge of his mouth curls up, his eyes now emerald. A brightness born of pleasure. "Once, perhaps," he says. "But now it's more." She is afraid that he is right.

I TOLD YOU????? BUT. Does that mean... that is how Luc feels when Addie says his name... when he hears Addie's voice...?

BUT. It also means Addie already feels something. Again, it might be because he's the only constant thing in her life. He's the only one who remembers and that's because he made it that way. But, he did offer to change the terms... Only that there was a misunderstanding because of everything that has happened and how she understands he, and his actions, works.

In the end, Addie's suspicions are justified. Sad for Luc, yes, but Addie has been suffering and it's because of him. If he can change—if he's willing to change—and he grants Addie's freedom with no consequences, no strings attached, and Addie gets to choose her own life in her own terms and who she wants to be with, then maybe when she chooses Luc, it can be healthy...

"I will give you what you want," he says. "If you will do one thing." "What?" she asks. Luc holds out his hand. "Dance with me," he says.

This part was very sad for me. It was clear that Luc has real feelings for her, yet Addie can no longer trust. Damage has been done. Their lines intersected, and from here, they'll only grow apart... Not physically, but emotionally.

But I think it's fitting. Luc is not human, though he is growing more human. Addie is human, but she is becoming more scheming... less human. They really cannot be together because Luc will always hold power and Luc is (or was?) manipulative. And Addie cannot find it in her to trust him again. Though Luc might change, to Addie, he is only the devil. And that is justified (though sad).

"What a hard lesson it must be for you," she says. "That you can't have everything you want." "Want?" he sneers. "Want is for children. If this were want, I would be rid of you by now. I would have forgotten you centuries ago," he says, a bitter loathing in his voice. "This is need. And need is painful but patient. Do you hear me, Adeline? I need you. As you need me. I love you, as you love me." She hears the pain in his voice.

Before we continue, may I just say one thing. LUC ALWAYS CALLS HER "ADELINE". Not "Addie" but "Adeline". And I think that means something.

Addie has always wanted to be "Addie", the name Estelle gave her. Since before, she did not want to be "Adeline". But, as she lived her immortal life, she kept wanting to go back to her old life. She yearned to be remembered again, even if it meant being tied down... But then she kept remembering she never wanted to be married and to just stay there forever. So even if she kept yearning for her life as "Adeline", she would still always want to be "Addie".

And Luc... calls her "Adeline". Easy explanation: Luc always says that she's always been his. That's because she traded her soul for freedom. This means she is really his, her whole being and life, whether as "Adeline" or "Addie"; but her birth name is "Adeline", and so her real, purest, and barest being is "Adeline". "Addie" came from "Adeline", whether it's just her name or her being.

But in my head: Being "Adeline" is being home, and Luc offered her just that :))

Another interpretation in my head (sad): Luc only sees her and/ or he keeps her as her former self, when Addie wants to be "Addie" aka free. He keeps her as "Adeline", the person who was desperate and in need, when she wants and needs to be "Addie", a person who is free. Thus, Luc is the shackles that hold her back from being free; they had a deal and she is still bound to him. As long as she is kept within a deal, she can never be free. Addie has to be free from Luc to be truly free.

"They can have the story," he says. "So long as I have you."

The ending. Henry did not have a happy ending with Addie because Addie is now with Luc. Yet, in the book's ending, Addie is scheming to make Luc hate her so that he would (unintentionally?) set her free, based on the new deal they had.

Should her plan work, then it will be true to her character: stubborn as a rock, and only wanting freedom. By extension, it highlights her true freedom as no man will ever own her or have her; fitting as she wanted to escape marriage long ago.

However, let us remember that The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, in the book, was written by Henry... and he never knew the true ending. Of what happened to Addie. Where she is. How she is now with Luc. How she and Luc treat each other. So we can also interpret that as Henry attempting to make a good and open ending for Addie :))

For me, I'll try to think and think about this because I'm clearly never moving on!! Maybe Luc can change and Addie can accept that. Maybe not. Maybe she will be free but Luc will still try to pursue her. Maybe after a long time, she can realize that he really has changed. Maybe they can be together. Maybe not because they have been toxic.

Who knows :))

[pinkykats-place]

BakuDeku supernatural au

AO3 Fanfic Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked on titles are mine.

Some contain mature content. Read tags.

Art work by @veve {twitter}.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

Under the Full Moon

by shalia_earante

Summary: Katsuki is finally ready to propose courtship to his nerdy ghost Deku, but the boy is nowhere to be found!

One Shot | SFW

Werewolf Baku x Ghost Deku

A Cat Named Deku by silentsongbird

Summary: Bakugou begrudgingly takes in a stray cat that has been hanging around his home. He says he's motivated by the weather turning colder, but he just can't resist the little fur ball. One night, Deku decides to let him in on a little secret.

One Shot | No Quirks AU

Rated - Mature

Cursed Shifter Deku x Human Baku

Blood Oath by Kolista

Summary: “Being alive ain’t worth shit if you don’t got something to live for,” I tell her with a sneer.

“Yes,” she pauses with a knowing tilt to her head. “To bad I am not alive.”

I laugh at her then. A deep one that has my chest shaking and when I settle down a little I start to feel a bit woozy. Whatever the fuck that old man puts in that brown water he calls ale has finally caught up with me. Or so I think.

The vampire bitch leans in close to me. Those disgusting red tipped finger nails graze my inner thigh as she whisper in my ear, “you’re going to make such a fine pet once we’re done with you. I bet you look splendid with a collar wrapped tight around that pretty neck of yours.”

— — —

Or Baku is kicked out of his pack and forced to make it on his own. He doesn't get far before he's scooped up and held prisoner at The Shelter, a supernatural black market where you can purchase anyone for any price. Bakugou is purchased by Izuku, a vampire prince whose in need of a bodyguard and the enemy to Kat's people. Now he must choose between his people or the one person he's supposed to hate.

Complete | 40 Chapters

Rated - Explicit

Vampire Deku x Werewolf Baku

The Morning-After Pill Doesn't Work On Werewolves, You Damn Deku!

by greatcloudninja

Summary: “All Supes have a secondary gender separate from the regular gender spectrum: alpha, beta, and omega. Alpha Supes—even non-werewolves—develop knots. And omega Supes, even those who have male genitalia, develop certain characteristics as well… like the fact that all omega werewolves can get pregnant if they have sex with an alpha during the full moon.”

Recently-turned vampire Midoriya Izuku wakes up in a hotel room, naked and vulnerable to encroaching morning sunlight, with a stranger on the other side of the bed. Except the stranger isn't a stranger at all—Bakugou Katsuki was his babysitter growing up, the older boy Izuku idolized and crushed on. Now he's getting a very... hands-on lesson in what separates the supernatural community from 'normal' humanity, as he realizes he's become very intimately connected with Bakugou in a way he never imagined.

One Shot | OmegaVerse

Rated - Explicit

Vampire Deku x Werewolf Baku

my love is always bitter/yearning

by lovemepidge

Summary: Two vampires get drunk and describe each other looks as they cannot use mirrors

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

Vampire Baku x Vampire Deku

Not Enough Time With You

by schrammashley1

Summary: Bakugou and Midoriya have already spent more than two lifetimes together yet, Christmas remains Izuku's favorite holiday and Katsuki realizes the nerd always gets what he wants.

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

Vampire Baku x Vampire Deku

An Aching Desire to Find

by psycovibes

Summary: It's been years since he last saw that freckled face, those viridian eyes that looked at him as if he was the most beautiful poem ever written.

The pull on his heart had only grown stronger with his will to find him. He would do anything to hear that voice say his name again.

He would give anything to find him.

One Shot | Victorian AU

Not Rated

Vampire Baku x Vampire Deku

Vampires Versus Wild by skyfallgar

Summary: Izuku barged into their shared home, panic written across his face. “Kacchan! we have a problem.”

“No,” Katsuki said. “YOU have a problem.”

He then pointed a finger at the intruder. “I have an idiot who keeps getting into one.”

“Mean, Kacchan,” Izuku pouted.

“So, what is it this time?” Katsuki asked.

“I told vampire hunters we were vampires,” he blurted.

“You did WHAT??”

— — —

OR Vampires bkdk keep pranking each other every 50 years or so.

One Shot | SFW

Vampire Baku x Vampire Deku

Lovebites by mynameis152

Summary: Katsuki Bakugou was going to hate this summer.

He thought he'd hate it because he was being forced to leave home and work for his mother's friend in a small, seaside town. He thought he'd hate it cause he was being punished for burning his room to a crisp. He thought he'd hate it because he hated change.

But it turns out, he hated the Supernatural Turfwar between four species that shouldn't exist but do a whole lot more....

— — —

Or The one where Katsuki is forced to move in with Inko for the summer and finds himself falling for a particular bloodsucker....

Complete | 57 Chapters

Rated - Explicit

[devilry-revelry]

Heart & Home | Male Ghost x Female Human {Part 1}

Mostly unedited rewrite of a thing I did way back when I was (happily) getting force-fed Red Dead Redemption 2 smut. It's a ghost cowboy. I'm not sorry.

: ̗̀➛

“Don’t need to be scared, girl. I’ll take good care of you—“

: ̗̀➛

The place had been on sale for nearly three years.

It was an old cabin resting on a rough half-acre space surrounded by mountains and farmland. The cabin was small. There were repairs that needed to be made to both interior and exterior, most of the electrical needed to be redone, and the plumbing needed to be updated. The bones were good though. The foundation was sturdy and unwavering. It just needed someone to show it a little bit of love – at least that’s what Maggie Whittaker, realtor, told each and every one of her clients after they drove the full 45 minutes out of town to see it.

“It just needs a little bit of love,” is what she told each and every single person that stared at the cabin and openly grimaced.

“It just needs a little bit of love,” is what she told the potential buyers that scoffed at the still-standing outhouse off to the side of the home.

No one took the bait though. Whether it was due to the commute time, or the plumbing issues, or the fact that the wiring threatened to burn the place down at any given moment. No one wanted to buy the place, but that didn’t stop Maggie from showing it at any given opportunity because she genuinely felt that the place held great promise. Every time she stepped onto the old wrap around porch she could imagine how inviting the space would be with a rocking chair, or a porch swing. She wanted to sit there with coffee and watch the sunrise above the trees in the morning, and watch as the stars came out at night. Maggie also liked to imagine how cozy the inside would be with a little bit of cleaning. She had decided long ago that the house would stay true to its rustic roots and she would salvage as much of the original materials that she could. She also decided that she would put a comfortable chair in front of the fireplace, and there would be old shelves with books, and a big bed with heavy blankets, and she would bake bread and cookies as fresh mountain air drifted through the kitchen…

Maggie could imagine all of those things, because that’s what she wanted. She wanted fresh mountain air, and cozy winters in front of a fireplace. Instead she had an awful third floor apartment sandwiched between a creep of a man and a nosy old woman. She had a cityscape that blocked the skyline, and the sounds of sirens and traffic accompanied by the acrid scent of piss and garbage. Meanwhile she sold people their dream homes. Homes with the backyard swimming pool, and the master bathroom with the male-height vanities and jacuzzi tubs and the shower with the six-plus shower heads that connected to wifi and Bluetooth. Even when she knew that no one in her clientele would show an interest in her cabin she showed the property every time she was able.

Perhaps it was because she hoped that someone would see the same potential that she did – or maybe it was just an excuse to spend more time at her own dream home. The cabin offered her a comfort that she couldn’t find surrounded by strangers at her apartment building. The cabin gifted her with the sense of belonging that she had been missing since she grew up and moved out of her familial home. When she wasn’t there she yearned to return, and when she had the opportunity, she often made the most of it she could. She structured her work schedule to offer her the most time at the cabin. If she could schedule the place for a showing, she saved the best for last, and when the not-so-potential buyers made their return trip to the city, Maggie often found herself taking up residence on the porch.

The little cabin offered Maggie all the comfort and warmth she craved, and she hated that every time she left, she didn’t know when or if she would be back; so she enjoyed what time that she had while she had it before leaving the one place she, somehow, considered home.

There were times where Maggie was lucky enough to return to the cabin weekly, if not daily but then there were times when business slowed, or a slew of clients steadfastly rejected the idea of living outside of the city, and so she didn’t get to return to her dream home for months at a time – and it was after one of those long stints of being away that everything changed…

During the winter months the already lackluster interest in the cabin waned. It was a long drive out from the city, and it seemed like all of Maggie’s clientele didn’t want to deal with the drive through the potentially inclement weather. It wasn’t until mid-spring when a potential buyer showed half-hearted interest and Maggie jumped at the opportunity to make the drive.

The buyer was a man from somewhere upstate. He was quiet, never really asking questions about the houses they visited, and never making a committal reply to any information she supplied. It served to make the day rather awkward, but when she mentioned the cabin overlooking the mountains he claimed that he wouldn’t mind seeing the place.

When they got to the cabin the man got out of his car with a camera looped around his neck with a strap, a camera that had been notably absent during the hours prior. Though it wasn’t uncommon for folks to snap pictures of the houses they toured, Maggie found the camera’s sudden appearance a little curious. A sudden and wholly unwelcome wave of paranoia washed away her excitement, and she found herself silently cursing the man for ruining her anticipated return to the cabin. She resolved to get through the showing as fast as she could for the sake of getting him to leave.

The building unease vanished the moment Maggie set foot on the porch, and it was very quickly replaced by a rush of warmth when she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

“You really show this shithole?”

The comment kicked up Maggie’s ire, but she plastered on a bright and cheery smile, and forced an amused laugh as she said, “It’s got some great views. Right around back, you can watch the sunset.”

“One bedroom? No running water? Why bother.”

“It has running water; the pipes just need some updating. And I think someone will see the potential and spruce it up. I’m… um—“ she faltered as he reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back near the old fireplace. His fingers found a lock of hair and pulled it in front of her ear then stepped back. “— um, what are you—“

“Just getting a couple of pictures,” he said simply.

“Sir,” Maggie started, tucking the stray hair behind her ear. She stepped away from the fireplace. “I would appreciate if—“

“I told you I’m a photographer, right?” He stepped forward again, and moved her back into place. “Just let me get a few pictures. There is an interesting contrast between you and how rugged everything in here is,” he played with her hair, and went so far as to reach out to undo the top button of her cardigan.

Maggie’s hand shot up and smacked him away, feeling the bitter dredges of rage burn her throat.

“Calm down, it’s just a button—“

“Get out. Now.”

“I said I’m a photogr—“

“And I said get out. We’re done.”

He sighed loudly and pulled the camera from around his neck.. “Look, ok, I’ll put the camera away—“

“I believe the lady said to get gone, boy.”

The voice caused them both to jump. It was as sudden as it was forceful. It was a low drawl that wasn’t at all common to the area. Maggie and the so-called photographer both turned to the origin of the voice, but the room was empty. Just as Maggie’s brows began to knit together in what could only be the most confusion she had ever felt in her life (the perv clearly heard the voice too), the lights in the living room flickered. The faucet in the kitchen turned on full blast. The photographer turned yet again, his eyes darting from the lights, to the sink -- there was a loud creak from the floorboards near the front door and he spun around just before his whole body pitched forward.

The man dropped like a sack of potatoes, landing heavily on his hands and knees. The camera bounced to the ground in the tumble, the flash going off. The lights flickered yet again, the cabinets in the kitchen swung open and Maggie hid. She wedged herself between the fireplace and the wall, sinking to her butt and pulling her legs to her chest as the room around her came to life in a surreal show of hostility. The camera shot across the floor, skidding against hardwood until it met the toes of her shoes. The photographer scrambled, desperately finding purchase on his feet before he high-tailed it to the front door. He was leaving - leaving her alone in the crazy house… but the second he cleared the doorway, the activity in the house stopped. The cupboards closed, the lights stopped flickering, and the water shut off. It was suddenly, abruptly, eerily quiet. Maggie was afraid to move. In the quiet of the room, she held her breath. Even when she heard the man’s car start up, she remained rooted in place. 

It wasn’t until the sound of the engine was long gone, did Maggie dare to take a soft breath and whisper, “Hello?”

Moments ticked by into minutes where there was no response, and as the silence dragged on, the fear and panic ebbed, and the familiar warmth returned. The tension that had gathered in her muscles eased. Her shoulders sagged and she released a heavy breath. Her eyes dropped to the camera. 

The thing had moved on its own. Just like the fluttering cupboards, just like the water faucet. As she reached for it, she half anticipated it to shoot across the floor, but it remained in place, quiet and unassuming and hopefully not haunted. It didn’t move, which was great, but the screen that was pulled up on the display made her stomach flip uncomfortably. 

It was a picture of her sitting in her car, sitting in front of the very first house she had met her client that day. She toggled the switch, flipping to the next image. It was her at the door to the cabin, her hand at the knob. 

“Oh God,” Maggie grumbled, glowering at the image. Photographer? Right. A total creep, more like. She thumbed the switch again. The final image was nothing but a blur; likely taken when the camera had fallen. She was in the image, her figure crumpled in the corner like a scared child but there was something in front of her, partially cutting off part of her form but it was too blurred to really nail down what it was. 

Her curiosity urged her to her feet. She moved a few paces from the corner, then turned to face the space, comparing the picture to the area she had vacated. There was nothing that could have been in the picture unless it had been the photographer, but the coloring was all off. Photographer was wearing bluejeans, the blur in the image was tan. It didn’t match with any of the colors in the cabin, either. The longer Maggie stared at the image, the easier it was to convince herself that she saw the blurry outline of a boot. Like someone had been standing between her and the photographer—

“Jesus, Mags,” she groused, turning the camera off. But even still, she was weary. She couldn’t explain away what had happened as easily as she could a blurry photograph. She could chalk up the photo as a searching and overactive imagination, but there was no explanation for what had happened. None. 

Maggie started for the door, then froze when a loud creak sounded behind her. It sounded just like a tired door opening in an old horror movie. When she turned her head she could see the bedroom door slowly opening. Wanting to debunk the day’s strange events she dropped her things on the kitchen counter and marched towards the room.

Was there a draft? There had to be a draft. As soon as she got to the bedroom she grabbed the door knob and closed the door. It latched closed. It didn’t budge when she pressed against it. She turned the knob, pushed it open just a bit and waited. 

Once again, the door didn’t budge. It was sturdy and solid and absolutely not swinging open ominously. She held up her hand towards the ceiling, feeling for any air flow and when that didn’t work she went into the bedroom. There was an old vent–

The door snikt shut behind her. 

A flare of fear sent her whipping back towards the door. She scrambled for the knob but it didn’t turn. Didn’t budge.

“Hello!” She called out, silently swearing to God that if that prick came back to this house and decided to fuck with her that she would do what she could to beat the living crap out of him. “Hey, open the door! Come on—“

She felt the sensation of warmth at her back and it caused her to still. She smelled wood smoke. It was gentle and lingering, reminding her of summer nights and camping trips. The gentle sweetness of cigar smoke came with it. Maggie’s hackles softened as she closed her eyes and breathed deep. Despite the swelling fear she had felt moments before she was once again pulled into a feeling of comfort. 

She shuffled a step towards the door, feeling pressure at her back, feeling a breath rustle her hair and tickle her ear. She closed her eyes and couldn’t stop her imagination from trying to summon the voice from earlier, the low drawl, right at her ear. 

“Don’t need to be scared, girl. I’ll take good care of you—“

Heat pooled low in her belly, she started to lean back into the warm pressure. She had the urge to tilt her hips, to back her ass up against— her eyes shot open, and she turned. There was no one there. Despite being alone, her cheeks grew hot.

A cute house in the woods, and a ghost apparently. When she tried the door again it opened. She gathered her things, locked up the house, and after a final lingering glance she left. 

She didn’t return to the cabin again for a whole three weeks. 

This time she returned with a married couple. The circumstances of her last visit had been bizarre. While the events of that day didn’t exactly haunt her, she had spent plenty of time imagining what her return trip would be like. If strange phenomena happened again she would have to assume that the cabin was haunted, and if it didn’t… well, she would have to assume that she was crazy.  When she pulled into the driveway, Maggie anticipated a bit of anxiety to flare up. There was no anxiety. Only a bones deep yearning to be back inside the cabin. So without the typical fanfare, Maggie unlocked the door and led the couple inside. 

Maggie frowned, and despite her curiosity, she left, and didn’t return to the cabin for a whole three weeks. This time, she returned with a married couple. The moment she was on the property, she yearned to be inside. She sought the comfort the cabin seemed to give her, so without much prelude or fanfare, she unlocked the front door and led the couple inside.

The tour was quick, as it usually was.

Entryway drop zone. Hallway. Living room left, kitchen right. A wall separated the living room from the bedroom. Across from  the bedroom was the bathroom and utility space. And there was the outhouse. Of course.

The couple seemed entirely uninterested, probably looking for something that was a bit more up-to-date.

“The land isn’t bad. Good space.”

Maggie nodded her agreement, “Great space. The owners live nearby. They’ve been maintaining the land, making sure it hasn’t gotten too overgrown. They offered to help with the upkeep after purchase.”

“Suppose I can tear down the cabin, do a custom build—“ the husband started.

“Wait, what—“

“Build a pool—“ the wife continued.

“This cabin was originally built in 18–“

“And it shows! It really shows. I’m not going to buy a one bedroom shack with an outhouse. But I can buy the space. Get rid of the cabin. Build a farmhouse and sell it for —“

Something happened then. Something that made the husband yelp. Maggie whirled around to see one of his feet dropping through one of the floorboards. When he stepped back to find his balance, he fell to the ground with a force that seemed to shake the very foundation of the cabin. Then the lights flickered. The front door snapped open then slammed shut. The wife shrieked at the sound. Maggie watched, detached from the fear she should feel. The husband vaulted to his feet. While the woman went to the door and tried to open it, the man yanked his foot from the floor. When the door didn’t open, the woman began to shriek and the man called after her to try and calm her down.

Maggie proceeded to view the unfolding chaos. She didn’t want the cabin to be torn down. She didn’t want there to be a frickin’ pool. She wanted the cabin to be fixed up, while maintaining its rustic charm. She wanted it appreciated by someone who could see the beauty it held. She wanted these two long gone. Maggie finally moved. With far more calm than she should feel, Maggie skirted around the hole in the floorboard, and joined the frantic couple at the door. The cabinets slammed and rattled in the kitchen. The lights had stopped flickering and had gone completely dark. Maggie squeezed her frame between the man and the door.  She took hold of the handle and twisted it. The door unlatched and she pushed it open. The duo pushed their way past her making her stumble out the door with them. They practically raced to their car, and before she knew it they were driving away. 

Maggie watched them go. Once the tail lights were out of view, Maggie turned to assess the cabin. She stood at the front door, pressing her hand against the hardwood frame.

“What was that about?” She asked the home, in a gentle coo. 

There was a loud creak from the inside, like footsteps, and without an ounce of fear, she stepped back into the now quiet cabin. The place had yet to turn on her. Not once. With the photographer, it had defended her. With the married couple it seemed to defend itself. Maggie somehow immediately convinced herself that the cabin wouldn’t turn on her. No harm would come to her when she was there.

She moved with careful steps as if she were approaching a frightened dog. She navigated around the new hole in the floor, and once she came to a stop she heard the front door close softly.

The old flooring creaked. In one place, and then in another. Growing closer. As if someone was walking towards her. The wild scent of wood smoke tickled her nose. Maggie closed her eyes and breathed it in. The touch of sweetness that curled at the edges made her mouth water. The sensation of a presence at her back should have set her off, but all she knew was ease, comfort, and home. 

“I ain’t standin’ by and lettin’ folks tear down my home.”

The voice was a low, accented drawl. The same voice that had told off that perverted photographer. The same one she had fantasized about more than a time or two as she lay in bed at night.

“And I’m through with all of the disrespect–”

“I-I never meant to disrespect anything–” her voice was quiet and ragged, but frantic. She turned towards her accuser and saw a man. Or the impression of one. It was hard to determine what exactly she was seeing, or not. The image only lived in her periphery and the moment she attempted to look directly at the figure, it seemed to shift out of view or vanish all together. 

She thought she was seeing a man. Tall, and broad, with eyes so dark they looked black. His clothes looked old and worn, with hints of khaki or maybe canvas, an old linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and the buttons at his chest undone. 

Maggie swallowed, closing her eyes hard. She repeated, “I’m sorry. I never meant any disrespect.”

“Nah, girl. Not you. Them. I built this cabin with my bare hands. I know these’re different times, but to come into a man’s home and call it a shithole…”

The man was edging closer, and Maggie matched his stride in the opposite direction. She wasn’t retreating out of fear, or she didn’t think so. She wasn’t scared. What she was feeling wasn’t fear. And yet, if what he was saying was true, if this was the man who built the cabin all those years back that could only mean one thing. She should be scared.

“You’re-you’re right—“ her back touched the wall. She trained her gaze to look away so she could see him better as he made his approach. His hair was dark, like charcoal. His skin was a beautiful sunkissed tan. Were those suspenders hanging from his hips? 

“And then what that little pissant did to you…”

“He didn’t—“

A hand extended to her, brushing her wrist with warm, calloused fingers. The contact surprised her. He was warm. He was gentle. Weren’t ghosts supposed to be cold? He took her hand, dragging his thumb over her palm. Maggie’s eyes flickered to the point of contact. There was no more impression of a person dancing in her vision. There was indeed someone standing before her, touching her. When she chanced a look up at his face, his eyes were trained on their hands. He looked just as surprised as she felt. 

His voice softened. “He did. He disrespected you. And that’s somethin’ I ain’t gonna tolerate, y’hear me Maggie Whittaker?”

Maggie nodded her head, slowly before she managed to find her voice. “Who are you?”

“Elias Jameson.”

“Your family owns this place.”

“They do.”

“Do they know about… you?”

“Nah. Tried to speak with one of the boys a few years back and he never came back…”

Again, Maggie nodded. Finding words was becoming increasingly difficult, and his proximity wasn’t helping. She was floored, she was stunned, and she was positive that she was dreaming. Elias’ eyes lifted from their hands to study her face. Christ, Maggie thought. That jawline is sharp enough to cut diamonds.

“Yer scared.”

“I’m… confused. If you’re a, well… how…?” She tried to gather her thoughts. “It feels like I’m dreaming.”

The rough pads of his fingers touched the skin inside her wrist. It probably would have tickled if the contact didn’t feel so sensual. She licked her lips as she recalled being locked in the bedroom, with the sensation of a presence at her back, and the urge to press and grind and–

“This ain’t no dream, Miss Whittaker.”

[leejenowrld]

i just wanted to say i love in your eyes so much. you brought together all the heart-wrenching and love elements of writing into play, and created something so beautiful.

i love the way you wrote jeno. you convey heartbreak so well. the cycle of love, heartbreak, and the impulsive decisions you make. this was so realistic, my heart clenched when i read it. not to mention, the fact that the choices he make are influenced by his past experiences and heartbreak. how he dealt with his emotions was so realistic and i'm glad it was. you showed the REAL art of love and how it affects people.

i listened to "waiting room" by pheobe bridgers when i was reading, for the reason that the lyric "know it's for the better" really resonated with me during this, especially during the part where jeno stands her up. i felt like i was a highschooler all over again, experiencing my first love, the all too familiar feeling of love, which heartbreak slowly follows— making you scared to give love another shot. i felt my heart breaking with each word i read. i felt my heart being ripped out my chest, just for jeno to pick it up and heal it for me.

not to mention, you made a reference to my first and last! that was sososo smart, and to be honest, when i first discovered it, it was around 200 likes. i'm so happy, on that day, i stumbled across your account and followed you. i unexpectedly ended up being a fan of yours, and look where we are now. despite having finished the fic, my heart does nothing but yearn.

also, when you made y/n try to hook up with sunwoo, it just shows us as humans when we spiral, we tend to go back to our old habits that we're so used to. why? because we find comfort in them, we don't know how to do anything else but go back to who we were. but y/n found comfort in something else. jeno, and how he never gave up on her. even throughout their indifferences and tragedy, he didn't give up.

they found their way back to eachother— just like how soulmates do. no matter what happens, soulmates will always be tied back to eachother. you may have differences and things that separate you, but that doesn't change the fact fate has tied your souls together.

when i was reading, i thought of the word "jung/jeong" in korean. in english, jung is like a soul tie. it's like an attachment, no matter what happens, your souls are tied together. even if you guys aren't meant to be together (which y/n and jeno are!), your souls are still eternally connected. it's a connection which can never be severed, even through hate. it's a deep emotional attachment. it's hard to explain, but i think this describes y/n and jeno perfectly.

even when y/n hated jeno for standing him up, she's still naturally drawn to them. their connection goes beyond emotions, but to their souls being connected in itself, eventually making them find home in eachother.

i'm sorry this was long.

thank you for writing this, you have my full support, continue writing and i'll always be a reader. so much love for you!

this review. this review is the reason i started writing and it’s just making me feel so warm and appreciated 🥹🥹honestly i’ve been waiting for a review and ask like this ever since i uploaded ‘in your eyes’

you’re honestly so sweet 🥹🥹 thank you so much. that means so much wow, i really did try to make in your eyes as beautiful and coming of age and realistic as i could’ve, painful but sweet, blissful and breathtaking. i just think love is the most beautiful and precious thing in the world so i wanted to showcase that in my writing <33

thank you so much for the song!! i will listen to it <33 if you have any more songs that remind you of in your eyes then please send them over as i’m actually in the midst of putting together an ‘in your eyes’ playlist and i am struggling for songs that would fit the fic and the vibe!! so please let me know if you have any ideas.

and that is so fucking beautiful and makes me feel so proud that the fic hit hard enough to remind you of your first love and kinda transport you back in time 🥹🥹 that is the beauty of writing and i hope i can continue writing and impressing with my world building and the way i portray feelings and settings, my writing style is very emotional and descriptive (only as much as necessary) and i would go far to say that it’s a form of art, i live for making readers really feel something deep and take anything from the fic

thank you for picking out the reference <3 my first and last is always gonna be my baby, so i had to. you’ll be surprised to know that it was completely unintentional!! i just thought the line and meaning was so fucking beautiful and meaningful and it also happened to be one of my other special fics 🫶🫶

you’re a og reader and follower 🥹🥹 we’ve come so far just in 6 months. i uploaded mfal sometime in january and 6 months later it has around 2.5k notes, has been received well from readers and has its own special universe 🫶🫶

yes yes!!! you get it. yn finds familiarity and comfort in sunwoo. but then she grew a bond so strong with jeno that she finds that same bond, only stronger and actual love, with jeno <33 they are soulmates. and i really wanna show how much they love each other fr, so if you wanna know any extra facts about them or have any questions about their relationship and future (or actual questions for them) then lmk and send an ask <3

that word is so beautiful 🥹🫶 this is what i mean when i say my aim is for my fics to convey a deeper message and pull on heart strings

don’t be sorry !!!! i live for asks like this and i do wish i recieved more, as i said, reviews and words like this are so touching to me and i will always remember this. this is why i started writing

i really really loved talking to you so please join my discord server <3 i wanna talk to you more and also add me on discord — @jenosoph

my discord server — here

[roobylavender]

green arrow #5 is where jade interacts with roy (it’s only a couple of pages, though). there aren’t any interactions between jade and lian on-panel yet, but williamson has changed lian’s perspective on her mom quite a bit, and not in a good way imo

omg this is so.. loveless, would be the word. what always really struck me about roy and jade’s interactions prior to their relationship going completely downhill is you could tell how emotional it was for both of them. every word spoken to each other dredged in so much grief and yearning for a life they could never actually share together. and i think what made it esp striking is that roy wanted that life. that one mini-series where he and dick kidnapped lian back bc jade had temporarily stopped allowing him to see her was a bit of a road bump obv but there was always this undercurrent that he would believe her before anyone else believed her. he was always willing to give her the benefit of the doubt and despite knowing so little about her own history he was determined to help her believe that she could get better. and you could tell how much that both frightened and burdened her, bc she felt like she couldn’t live up to the expectation. the sudden rescission of that emotion from jade after roy officially cut her off (terrible, terrible useless issue that i hate with all of my heart) and the increased sexualization of her relationship with him instead was so disheartening to watch unfold. like the conversation they’re having in ga #5 is so unfathomable to me. i hate the way lian was killed in the first place obv but i could understand jade being angry bc she left lian with roy for a reason. and yet her admonishment of him here is so.. closed off. clinical. more of a derisive sneer than a bereaved accusation. and all that aside i simply cannot ever believe there’s a universe where she would find out their daughter is alive and keep it from him. like that’s the most unrealistic thing about her i have ever heard, jade is not talia doing complicated mental gymnastics in a power bid to protect bruce and the world from god knows what, she’s an emotional mother, she loves her kid to pieces, roy is her one remaining connection to her own humanity who keeps drawing her back in regardless of the nature of her work, etc etc. that’s the thing about her and roy specifically, if anything. bruce and talia are a lot more protective of their own emotions over time bc it makes them uncomfortable to appear emotionally vulnerable in front of each other, but roy and jade tend to lay all of their cards on the table for each other, and the conversation in this comic doesn’t read like that at all. what it actually reads like is an angry mission debriefing between colleagues who piss each other off

also omfg i forgot to touch on the fact that she said she trained lian like what. whaaaaaaat. as if one of the most important things jade and roy agreed on for years wasn’t literally their desire to keep lian sheltered from the vigilante life and this is precisely what made her death all the more heartbreaking..

[scoopsgf]

Only thing I will say is that "You're on your own, kid" is Jess and Rory's song. Could be from either perspective, encapsulates their relationship perfectly and the fact that "I didn't choose this town, I dream of getting out/There's just one who could make me stay/All my days" is Jess returning to Stars Hollow for her???

you are so fucking right. it actually fits so well if you kind of alternate the perspective every few lyrics, like:

^ this is rory post-kiss with jess after her summer in DC. she’s still yearning for him but she’s “playing it cool with the best of them”—aka Dean, who is constantly touted as the Most Perfect Human Being Ever. rory waiting for him to notice her, the fact that they were friends before all of this, etc. THEN:

this is jess’s perspective—he hates Star’s Hollow, he didn’t have a say in getting shipped off there and wants to leave pretty much from the second he steps off the bus. until he sees rory ofc.

“sprinkler splashes” like are you KIDDING ME? please somebody edit these lyrics over gifs of him turning off the sprinklers for her. this song was literally made for them. also “I search the party of better bodies / just to learn that you never cared” is so rory’s perspective during the kegger, and how she’s feeling in the immediate aftermath of him leaving her

again, her perspective after he leaves, but then:

this is jess’s perspective after running away—“something different bloomed / writing in my room” just perfectly encapsulates him discovering writing as an outlet for his emotions and learning to love something, gaining confidence, starting to finally express himself, etc

“called a taxi to take me there” as in rory going to NY to see jess and hailing a cab to get to washington square park??? are you kidding me taylor???

also one of the last lyrics, “there were pages turned with the bridges burned” is such a perfect double entendre for them. like, pages turned within books, which cemented their whole connection; pages turned as a metaphor for them both moving on from each other (or trying to) and starting new chapters in their lives; bridges burned as in the both of them severing that connection to each other (or trying to); bridges burned as an allusion to Their Bridge and how it used to be a sacred place for them, but now it may as well be burned down bc they just… can’t go back there anymore.

[how-masterful]

31 Fics of Fright

Day 18- The Hunter’s Moon

Dhawan!Master X Reader

Prompt: Full Moon

Notes: Yes, i did in fact get inspired from the Ghost song. I also loved getting to use my witchy knowledge in this one. The moon truly rocks! Also a bit more dialogue orientated than my usual stuff. At least to me it is. Today has been busy!

Warnings: Suggestive language.

The Lunar Gardens were a thing of legend. A gorgeous escape, their locations only known to those who had the right connections. It was up there with the luxurious likes of Darillium, the most romantic of spots for intergalactic travellers who so desperately yearned for a night under the potent energy of the moon.

There you’d been, the pair of you, you and the Master. Sat there in your best, dining on the most delicious meal you’ve ever had, under the gorgeous glory of the fat full moon. It shone in the night, bathing the gardens in an unearthly cast of blue. It shimmered against the glitter on your outfit, the Master’s suit lined with silver that glimmered under the beam. The crystal of your wine glasses sparkled, as did the shimmer of your cocktails. The Master had gone all out and treated you tonight.

“I’d hate to be a werewolf here.” You’d whispered, gazing so wonderfully at the shining giant.

The Master had grinned, delicately taking your arm and guiding you to your table. You’d been seated in the prime spot, the gardens around you decorated with the Earth's most seasonal decor- carved pumpkins lined the path, the crockery and silverware a jet black, the bushes and shrubs artistically draped with faux spider webs and themed lights. Of course, the Master had booked for the Autumn. He may have claimed to be a lone wolf, but he remembered every single fact about yourself you’d mentioned. He may not have enjoyed admitting it, but he was always so desperate for you to enjoy the things he suggested. He’d say a happy assistant is an effective one. You thought he just enjoyed seeing you smile.

The candle upon the middle of the table burned with a familiar black flame, the silver wax dripping artfully from the crescent moon shaped holder. You brushed your foot up the Master's calf, watching him smile darkly as he casually sipped his drink.

“It’s the Hunter's moon, tonight.” He mused, glancing up at the moon.

“It's a cycle of three-”

“Three years that it appears over Earth in the month of October. It’s also a rarity that the full moon appears on Halloween night.”

The Timelord tilted his head, watching you proudly as you sipped from your glass.

“As if I could forget, I got the hippie human.”

“You complain now, but just you wait until I start dancing skyclad and chanting.”

The Master paused, lip curving into a smirk.

“Do you have to join in the spell thing to get to watch that, or…?”

You swatted in his direction, the Master chuckling as he leant forward to take another bite from his food.

“I remember living through the Seventies, twice, they were chock full of all that sort of thing. All those New Age spiritualists, who had no clue they were basically redoing everything from Daemos. Don’t even get me started on that weirdo Gerald Gardener. Basically wanted to make old worldy stuff new.”

You leant forward curiously, placing your glass down on the table. You also returned to digging into your food, hoping to prompt the Master further.

“Surely then you lived through all the supernatural moral panics.”

The Master nodded, raising his fork to his lips.

“Oh, love, literally everything. I tried to pay no mind but honestly, most of it was alien. Satanic panic? Alien. Psychic fields trying to affect the world, some shitty low level blood control. Most ghosts? Alien.”

“Don’t tell me the Highgate vampire was an alien. I’ll be heartbroken.”

The Master paused, considering the thought.

“Nope, still have no clue what the hell that actually was.”

You gave a small victory fist bump, causing the Timelord to laugh fondly.

“So tell me, Witchy Woo,” He started, placing down his knife and fork and leaning closer across the table. “Hunter's moon. Explain.”

You gave a happy sigh, settling your cutlery down upon your plate. You gazed up to the looming mass of space rock, investigating every crevice and crater. It was beautiful, the way it softly spun and orbited the garden. It felt like it was watching over you.

“Hunters moon, let’s see… peak harvest time, great for the early native farmers to hunt and gather supplies for the Winter.”

The Master watched, invested. He already knew everything about it, nothing was truly new. He was simply fond of just how passionate you became when you discussed things you loved. 

“It’s also called the blood moon, mainly due to scientific phenomena and how high it rises in the Earth's atmosphere.”

“So on Earth, this thing looks red.”

“Exactly. It has its connotations of the harvest, being grateful for what you have, and keeping balance. It’s mainly moving on from the Autumn and getting ready for the Winter.”

The Master’s hand had reached out, and you placed yours within his with earnestness. He softly squoze your palm, looking up at the moon.

“So, if it’s the harvest, that includes a hunt, right?”

You nodded in reply, thumb stroking over the back of his hand.

“And if I recall… you mentioned a bit about being skyclad...”

Once more, you nodded. The Master rubbed at his beard dramatically, a devious twinkle in his eye.

“I think there's an opportunity here for a pretty trailblazing idea.”

Leaning further, foot caressing tauntingly up his leg, you quirked up a brow.

“Something you’re offering to workshop?”

The Master grinned, all teeth and deviance, just as a waiter arrived to take your plates.

“Are you intending to order dessert?” It asked scratchily, stacking the plates in its five spare hands, its front two clasped together elegantly.

“We’ll take one of everything.” The Master said absentmindedly, the plan already working itself through his head like new computer code, rewriting every sinful neuron he held in his possession.

“To go.” You added, heart beginning to pound at the low sweat building on your skin.

“Head start to the TARDIS.” The Master whispered, every cheetah planet instinct awakening with frenzy. You stood from the table, reclaiming your clutch and winking over your shoulder.

“Catch me if you can.” You purred, before scarpering off under the glow of the moon.

The Master inhaled deep, staring up at the Hunters Moon with excitement. The hunt was officially on.

[agonizedembrace]

some akalynn random hcs asks, because i can. for any verses? considering how they're tied together,,,

when'd eve realise she would be fated to meet akali in each new life?

when did eve accept it, if ever?

who was more likely to make the first move?

what was the other's reaction to it?

how's akali faring about eve's demonic nature?

is she aware of said nature in the KDA verse?

MARRIAGE WHEN.

BREATHES... rey...

well even your first point, i like to write all the verses tied together -- it helps in how I want to write evelynn who develops over a long period of time in acceptance of emotions. and the ever tragedy she faces, and thought that she's not meant to love.

I'll put this under a read more bc this WILL be long.

Evelynn realized she's fated (or cursed, to her mind) to meet Akali in what would be considered the Blood Moon skinline. One that's quite some time after their base runeterra skins. I like to think, in a way, Eveylnn is able to recognize souls. Whether they're ones she's murdered, or happened to pass by, I haven't entirely decided. Sometimes it's easier than others to make the connect, but she knew the moment she laid eyes upon Akali then, what was happening. The priestess saying her name was just an added bonus.

Her acceptance wasn't until later, perhaps 2 more lifetimes, not entirely of skinlines that happen in games. Even Eve had to accept that it's some sort of fate, four times now that they've met, and after all this time her heart still yearns . It's a bitter acceptance, because the death that always follows is painful.

Always Evelynn -- because she cannot contain herself anymore. It's torturous, to be left with the memories from the previous lives. To see her lover again, after many years, and not be able to hold her and give her affections. She would have marked her, if she wasn't so stuck in her own head of not deserving Akali's affections.

I think Eve always plays this carefully, of never info dropping on Akali. To her, it likely just appears as a normal confession. To Evelynn, it's reopening a wound, over and over again. Evelynn could very well feast on her own agony if she wasn't so in love with her.

Iiiii think Runeterra Akali definitely hated Eve at first dsfhjkdskj. Like, espesically in that verse alone Evelynn isn't nice by any means, and she's very selfish. Combine that with the fact she's very interested in a human of all things, it's likely not pretty, they probably fight. Hate fucking at it's best hjksdfjkhdsfkj (least in Akali's case) that so slowly turns into them realizing oh. OH.

I actually haven't written this out yet, it's been hinted at, but I haven't had Eve tell Akali she's a demon. She's been meaning to, but it's a very delicate subject, especially since she's less sinister and seeking to fulfill her hunger in this verse. Evelynn is very careful to not expose herself, for both her own safety, and to not scare her away.

COMING SOON, TO A THEATRE NEAR YOU. AKALYNN WEDDING -- in a more serious tone though, I think KDA is the first point in the timeline where they would get married.

[mikatsuobushi]

words that are supposed to be on that damn bird app but i have issues

but tbh, maybe i wouldn't really refuse to the fact that i do have to settle down and build a family in the future... maybe this is just me trying to break away from my mother's and society's expectation. maybe it's just the ever pure hearted me who doesn't want anyone to suffer.

it will definitely depend on who i'm going down with and if i'm finally stable tho...

but i'm such a prickly bitch who hates men. i wouldn't even want to marry me either. say, who would even want to marry a woman too ambitious, too faithful to her views and morals? yes, i'm a people pleaser. i always try to not be a bother. i'm a pushover. but i always hold my beliefs above everything else. it's always easy for me to cut ties if you step on my morals. say again, how many men are out there that could stomach me? that would accept me?

growing up, i have always been envious of my friends having lots of suitors while i only have close to none who takes me seriously. i'm always the intimidating one. unapproachable. the high standards. mean. too smart. too serious. i'm always too much to handle. sometimes i just concluded that maybe i'm unappealing and ugly. too plain. boring. straight-laced. but everyone says i'm pretty, just scary.

that should make me feel special and superior but as i type this and think along those years, i really can't help but feel sad and lonely.

i'm a human. i yearn connection too. deep, real, and tangible one. i yearn to be touched. to be caressed. to be kissed. to be fucked. to be loved. to be understood even i couldn't even understand myself.

and i can't do that alone. i'm so so lonely.

and it doesn't help with the fact that i am only willing to change my rules to one person. one person i lay myself bare. someone i do really trust the most. the one i could absolutely wait because i have already spent ⅓ of my life waiting so what's more years?

and it's so stupid. so stupid that if he asks me to marry, i would abandon everything i said here and say yes. it's so stupid that my friends are already tired of the same drunk crying of why oh why he doesn't like me and why oh why i'm such a stupid coward who's right there where you left me.

because let's be honest, i'm still in julie's buying bread even though in reality, the bakeshop isn't there anymore. i'm still at shake shop near the playground every afternoon even though they already relocated. i'm still seeing you in the blue backpacks. still looking for you in the middle of the crowd. in the high schoolers across the street. in the same haircut of every men i met. trying to catch a glimpse of you in every jeep that heads to your town. in every ship that docks. i'm actually still in front of palawan express. in the stairs where our eyes will try everything to not meet. at my seat near the window and it's already 8AM when you arrived. and i'm back again in my grade 7 classroom and it's early in the morning and i have no idea NO FUCKING IDEA that you would leave me haunted like this.

this is basically a confession and you're probably dumb if you cannot string who's who. and i kinda wish that you would read this. i hope that you won't and it'll be whole lot easier for me to just leave this in the drafts or never compose at all but i'm already tired.

and let me ask this again just like what i did the first time: is it killing you like it's killing me?

[tanith-rhea]

18, 34, 62

18. Are you scared of spiders? No! Actually, I find them quite nice helpers. They look cute and aren't threatening and catch insects for me! Of course, one has to keep their webs under control and I feel bad doing it, but they're never around to see it (it's like they know it's gonna happen). In fact, I think you'd enjoy this video if you're not afraid of them or would like to overcome this fear. Of course, not all spiders are jumping spiders, but if I live in Brazil and never died from one, your house spiders aren't likely to be a threat (unless Australia, then I'd advise being extra nice to them) but I'm not expert and maybe my naivety will get me killed someday.

34. Who/what was your last dream about? My last dream was about doing a theatre production for a court of fairies and mermaids. If you've seen The Magicians' fairies, those are the ones, and if you've listened to the podcast Faerie, that is the dangerousness/horror vibes of it. The play was a mix of A Midsummer Night's Dream and Much Ado About Nothing, but I played Hamlet (there was nothing from Hamlet in the play besides my character) and I was in the role of Benedick (maybe David Tennant connection in my brain?) and Gwendoline, looking like The Magicians' Queen Fairy (don't remember if that was her title, but the leader of the fairies), was Beatrice, and the plot of her as Titania was the same, except there was no fairy king.

62. What makes you happy? Ok, I had three paragraphs explaining how things didn't make me happy if I wasn't previously happy for hormonal reasons, but that was so boring I just decided to list things that make me happier when I'm on a good day. Writing, tea, my parrot and cats, reading, playing draughts, talking with my mother, being alone, singing, dancing (more of a result of happiness, but always pumps it up), daydreaming, having a cheat day, oddly enough: not having a cheat day (I like running and eating healthily and hate alcohol, but I think it's human nature to yearn for rebellion). I like making people speechless, be it by being blunt, sarcastic, morbid, or whatever thing I feel will shut them up for a few seconds and wonder if I'm serious or not. I don't like cooking, but when I'm in the right mood I love cooking for people I care about, I like selecting wine even if I won't be the person drinking, and gifting loved ones brings me instant serotonin (I'm the reverse sugar mommy - as in I'll spoil my partner rotten while also begging to be spanked). Off the top of my head, that would be all.

[3rdculturecharacter]

Spider from Avatar, Way of the Water was the character who first gave me the idea for this blog, so it's only fitting he be the first up.

There is so much to unpack with his character.

Firstly I found it heartwarming to see how the human immigrant community and the Omatikaya Clan had overlapped between movies. Both adopting some cultural elements from the other without loosing their unique traits.

I loved to see how they were able to respect and embrace eachother and work together, allowing for a super diverse set of characters to explore

(It would have been so easy to just make them hate eachother. It's not flawless, but as it stands it's one of the best fictional cultural exchanges I have seen, in my opinion.)

One of these characters being Spider.

He is a human boy, brought up first by humans and then also by Na'vi on Pandora.

He is a third culture kid in the purest sence.

He has this interesting conflict around his identity, as many third culture people do. In his own eyes, he is clearly Pandoran, culturally aligning more with the Na'vi that with the Humans.

He has no bad feelings towards the other humans and avatars who raised him, but there is this strong resentment for his heratige and for his own body.

It's something I have found very relatable as a third culture kid: like sure he is able to partake in a MOST of the day to day activities, but he has a physical inability to truly connect to the culture and even the world itself that he belongs to.

Its always in the background of his character. As we the audience see him going about his life we ask "Umm ok so how would that work...?" And the answer is simply that it wouldnt. And every time it's kinda heartbreaking.

Not ten feet tall and blue?

Ok well, so ur slower, less agile, more likely to fall to your death, will always be the odd one out.

No queue?

Well sorry son, no riding, no flying, no fun girlfriend times (I mean like later ok), no right of passage, no connecting to the planet, no ancestral wisdom, no force ghost, no Eywa.

Our guy can't even breathe the air of his home plannet.

I have described one of the downsides of being third culture being "it sometimes feels like your separated from everyone else by a layer of glass".... He is literally behind a layer of glass!

And of course we see him trying to compensate by painting himself and saying how the animals trust him as if he was Na'vi.

And later we see him actually exploring his humanity and his heratige and what those things do or don't mean to him.

We see him curious about how different human operations function, find personal connection within the colonist side, grapple with the temptation to have a farther figure who seems to care for him.

The extent of his takeaway from his time spent with the colonists is still unclear, but his consideration was a very effective showcase of his yearning for belonging amongst two sets of people who he doesn't fit in with, as well as the fact that he wasn't COMPLETELY happy amongst the Na'vi and was therefore intrigued by the alternative.

(They did a really good job at balancing his loyalty to the Na'vi with his curiosity towards the colonist without letting us forget that he was in fact the colonist's prisoner at the time btw)

He is sort of a distilled version of all of the problems that come with being third culture and I'm super interested to see what they do with this conflict going forward in the franchise.