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beauty-and-passion · 4 years ago

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A (not so) brief post about my favourite Sanders Sides ships

It all started with this ask:

I just wanted to write a short answer, I swear. Just a short answer with a tiny little explanation about why I like these ships in particular.

But then I got a bit carried away, my explanations became longer and so here I am, writing a full post.

One small clarification before starting: ships don’t have a place in my analyses. If I talk about connections between Sides, these connections are always in terms of friendships, cooperation or familial relationships. The romantic aspect is something different and I may joke about it sometimes, but it’s just a joke.

There is a time and space for romantic relationships - and it looks like that time has come.

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Janus and Patton

I've always liked the canonical ship, in (almost) every fandom. So of course I like the canonical ship of this fandom as well :P

Jokes aside, this ship is incredibly mature, very interesting and terribly hard to talk about. The nature of these two characters, their roles and the episodes that had them involved proved how these two speak the same language, work in the same field and, ultimately, need each other.

* More similar that we think

If we look at them on a superficial level, Janus and Patton are completely opposites: one is cynical and cold, the other is a ball of sunshine. One is dark and suave, the other is goofy and bright. Janus' moral is "step on others and only care about yourself", Patton's moral is "help others because they are more important than you".

These differences became clearer over time, the more we learned about Janus and compared him with Patton. However, along these differences, some similarities started to emerge. Some qualities.

Janus and Patton want what's good for Thomas. They are humble enough to recognize their mistakes (the latest example was POF). They have a strong empathy. They’re kind. They’re mature adults (even if Patton doesn’t show it too often). And they both love and use puns.

But that’s not all. Along with these qualities, we found out that these two have similar flaws: they are both liars. They are incredibly persuasive to the point of manipulation. They have a huge influence over the mind (and the other Sides). They both deal with denial.

And this isn't just important, but it's a fundamental point for their character growth. Why? Because if they have similar flaws, if they are both liars and manipulators, then they cannot deceive each other.

And this is HUGE, especially for Patton! By his own admission, Patton lied multiple times, especially about his feelings (the Nostalgia episodes) and his thoughts (the most recent wedding/callback saga).

He always got away with it, because he was lying to other Sides and Thomas. But what would the point be, to lie to the literal embodiment of lies? Janus already knows what of his words are lies and what not, so it would be absolutely useless to do it.

Therefore, if Patton cannot lie to Janus, he cannot pretend everything is alright when it's not or hide his thoughts on a certain topic. He cannot shift the attention somewhere else or let a conversation drop. That means Patton cannot avoid confrontation about his thoughts/feelings and oh boy if he really needs to talk about them - especially with someone mature like Janus.

And yes, having someone who is able to see past your lies means being a lot vulnerable... but also a lot freerer. With Janus, Patton won’t have to pretend to be the strongest one: he can allow himself to be weak and confused, because if he doesn’t have an answer or if the weight of decisions is too much to carry, he has Janus with whom he can share it.

* A foundation of mutual respect

This point has never been fully addressed, but it was very well implied by their words/behaviours since Janus’ first appearance.

The first proof we have is CLBG: after Deceit revealed himself and disappeared, all the Sides and Thomas went through various degrees of shock, frustration and anger. Patton, on the other hand, was the only one who showed a pretty calm demeanor.

He should've been the angriest, considering that Janus took HIS place and pretended to be HIM the whole time. And yet, not only Patton didn't show any resentment, but he didn't talk bad about Janus (even if he had all the reasons to) and he even justified the other Side’s actions to Thomas:

[Patton]: Kiddo, simply put, Deceit is an inner coach that acts with the one intention of self-preservation.

Patton could’ve said anything, to make Janus appear as the worst. And his words could've had a lot of influence on Thomas, considering they were coming from his heart.

However, Patton didn't say anything too bad about Janus - not even in the following episodes.

Then we reach POF: Patton's monologue about his morals went so dramatically bad, he turned into a giant frog with abs and Janus had to sweep in to save Thomas.

In that moment, he could've said ANYTHING to make Patton appear as the worst Side ever. He had his chance on a silver plate: Patton was wrong, he had been wrong the whole time, he was literally ready to fight Thomas.

And yet, Janus took Patton's defense:

[Deceit]: He didn't mislead you on purpose, Thomas. I don't think the little guy... or... the big frog is capable of that sort of thing.

In addition to that, let’s consider Janus' whole attitude towards Patton in SvS: he basically spent an entire episode trying to make Patton understand his point.

[Deceit]: You can defend him all you like... But you can't change the facts. Is Thomas an innocent little lamb? Let's let them be the judge of that.

Why did he insist so much on this? Why not tricking Patton like he did with Roman or ignoring him like he did with Logan?

Because Janus knows how important Patton's role is and his whole behaviour shows respect towards the other Side. Unlike the others, who tend to diminish/forget Patton’s importance, Janus never did and always tried to reach him in the most honest, difficult way: through dialogue and confrontation.

And when he failed, instead of disregarding Patton’s importance, he just kept trying again, until his message finally reached the other Side.

* The perfect working partner

POF proved Patton can't bear the weight of the decision-making process all by himself. He needs another Side who can help him and Janus perfectly fills this role.

But why Janus? Why not Logan? Logan is a very mature Side, he can deal with a lot of stress, he's extremely organized and knows a lot. Surely he can help Patton with the decision-making process, right?

Not exactly. For his own admission, morals and ethics are not Logan's area of expertise (as it should be: logic can’t be influenced by what’s considered “good” or “bad”: logic is neutral). Secondly, Logic isn't an emotional-driven Side: logic is way less affected by emotions than other Sides - especially compared to Patton, who is the embodiment of emotions.

What Patton needs is a mature Side with a grey mentality, humble enough to respect him/not diminish his role, from his same area of expertise and enough emotional-driven to connect with him on an emotional/empathetic level.

And Janus is the only one who fills all those points. Even the latter, as we saw in the last part of POF:

[Patton]: Janus... Do you think there's a limit... on how many times someone can say sorry... before you have to admit... that they're just bad for you? [Janus]: Oh, definitely not. I'd love for someone to ruin Thomas' entire life one apology at a time. [Patton]: Okay. [Janus]: (After seeing Patton's reaction)The reality is that... it depends.

Janus' answer changed, the moment he realized Patton didn't get his sarcasm, by switching from ironic to honest. This is the kind of emotional connection Patton needs, something that doesn’t require words, but a small gesture that says more than a thousand words (yes, I’m also talking about that gaze and the small nod in the end card).

If we add to all of that the detail that Janus can nullify Patton's excuses and see past his lies, we have the perfect partner to help him grow up.

But this cooperation isn’t just one-sided: Janus needs Patton just as much as Patton needs him.

Why? First of all, to have a seat at the table. After years hiding, Janus can finally talk to Thomas, introduce his cynical mentality, make Thomas a little more selfish and help him grow up.

Secondly, by cooperating with Patton, Janus will become a better Side: he will learn to compromise, to work together and, most importantly, to trust Patton. And this is a particularly important point because, as I said in my analysis of POF, Janus isn’t used to trust others and he doesn’t want them to see past his barriers. Working with Patton might be exactly what he needs to trust the other Sides and lower these barriers, even a tiny bit.

* The romantic possibility

Considering all of the above points, the idea that their cooperation could evolve into something romantic-driven isn't so strange. The elements are all here, there's nothing weird to add nor need to bend canon, in order to make the ship happen. Their mutual acceptance can easily become need, learning more about each other can easily evolve into desiring each other and friendship could grow into passion.

And, of course, let's not forget marriage. These two can only end up in marriage. I mean, one is a dad, the other is a mom witch, so they are a perfect match XD

My point is: this ship isn't just a “cute couple being cute”. It's about dialogues. Conversations about themselves, their different points of view, their morals, their cooperation, how to help Thomas and the other Sides. It's based on listening to each other, on knowing each other a little more every day. On being silly together, working and failing together, going down and getting up, because there is someone by your side to lend a helping hand.

This is what makes Janus and Patton the most realistic, mature couple. And that's probably why it's so hard to perfectly nail it.

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Logan and Remus

Here it is, the couple that blew up after one episode and was confirmed in the most recent Aside.

But seriously, these two have a huge potential - first as friends/working partners, then as romantic partners. Logan and Remus need each other and the reasons are pretty clear:

- Having an interlocutor

Remus is Unleashed Creativity, a volcano of ideas in constant need of new stimuli, no matter if they are considered good or bad. After all "good and bad are all made up nonsense", as he said.

Logan is a walking encyclopedia in search of someone who wants to listen to him. He's pure, undiluted knowledge because that's what logic should be. No morals about what's good and what's bad, no emotions, nothing but neutral knowledge.

Considering that, it’s pretty clear these two have to come into contact. But what would they gain?

Well, Remus would have the stimuli he desperately craves. And Logan?

Logan would gain an incredibly smart interlocutor. And I’m not saying it because I am biased towards Remus, but because the canonical episodes showed us how smart he is. In both DWIT and WTIT Remus proved to be a quick thinker, with a sharp intellect and an even sharper eye. He's silly and over the top, but he's not an idiot and he uses everything he has for his own creative needs, no matter how small it is.

Just imagine this cleverness applied to everything Logan might say to him. Remus wouldn’t be the only one to benefit from it, but the whole creative process and, ultimately, Thomas himself, who will have better, richer ideas.

- Gaining a place

At this moment in time (just after WTIT) Remus has not been fully accepted yet. He is tolerated and his presence is a nuisance, but he’s neither wanted, nor banished. He’s just here and he has no voice on any matter.

Also because no one wants to give him a chance to prove how useful and worthy he can be. Thomas barely tolerates him, Patton does his best to ignore him, Roman doesn’t even want to see him and Virgil would rather not have any of the Others present.

The only Core Side who accepts Remus’ presence and is willing to give him a chance is Logan. He spent the entire DWIT to explain why Remus is useful for Thomas and shouldn’t be ignored, while in WTIT, he said: "There will be a time and place for you" - thus implying that, one day, Remus will finally be able to show how worthy he can be.

This is exactly what Remus needs: a Core Side who doesn’t see him as a nuisance or a villain, but as a fundamental part of Thomas that can be helpful, in his own way. Someone willing to give him a seat at the table (at least in the future). And, most importantly, someone who is powerful enough to control him.

Remus is and will always be a force of nature. He will never rest or stop being chaotic. This is why he needs someone strong by his side, someone who can’t be overcomed by his dark thoughts and that can put him back on track if necessary. And Logan proved to be perfect for this role not once, but twice.

- Understanding on a deeper level

However this cooperation won’t be beneficial just for Remus. As I said before, Remus could be a clever interlocutor for Logan. And this cleverness isn’t just related to creativity, but also to emotional understanding.

The Core Sides have known Logan for almost thirty years and yet, they have no idea of the inner turmoil raging inside him. They keep ignoring and dismissing him, clearly thinking everything is fine.

It took Remus one single day to realize what Logan’s problem is, how deeply frustrated he is and how much he’s actually angry at Thomas. Less than 24 hours and Remus knows Logan better than his long time friends.

That’s exactly what Logan needs. Someone sharp enough to notice his behaviour, find out the root of the problem and make Logan face it, instead of dismissing it because who cares (yes, Roman, I am talking about you and your “You'll be fine, Rome didn't fall in a day.”)

- The romantic possibility

I think almost all the fandom agrees that these two would have a great sex life. After all, Remus is the embodiment of Thomas' sexual urges, so he would definitely go for a very physical relationship.

But having a good sex life implies a lot of other great things: good chemistry, no comunication issues, great stability and greater trust. And, even more important, the desire to try new things together. Logan and Remus are both very curious Sides, they both want to know new things and experience them: so their relationship would probably be based on discussing new ideas, testing them and finding out together if they are good or not.

And this doesn't apply to just the sexual aspect: even just the romantic aspect or the working aspect of their relationship could have these characteristics. Logan and Remus can motivate each other, learn from one another and find new things together. They are clever enough to stimulate each other's mind, curious enough to do stuff together to learn something new and honest enough to not withdraw their opinions on any matter.

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Roman and Virgil

I am just recently starting to warm up to this couple, so I will keep this part short.

Just as it was for the previous two couples, these two can work together because canon made them work. The first part of their whole relationship is already all canonically established: at first Roman saw Virgil as a villain, then he slowly realized he could be a friend. Now moving from friends to lovers isn’t so difficult.

^ No need to demonstrate

Roman needs someone like Virgil, because Virgil is on his same level. Sure, Virgil’s mentality is way more gray-ish, but he still has a lot to learn, just like Roman.

Having someone on his side, who is on his same level is a huge relief: with Virgil, Roman doesn't have to pretend, nor to show off, nor to be dashing and perfect all the time. He knows Virgil won't care less, so he can relax. And for someone who is used to working all the time, having a moment of quiet with someone who has zero espectations is exactly what Roman needs.

Same goes for Virgil: he knows Roman won't care if he's gloomy and dark, because Roman already saw that side of him and appreciates him anyway. So no need to pretend to be different. He can relax too. And, because of his anxious nature, relaxing is exactly what he also needs.

So if they both need to relax, that implies they also need time to do it. And without expectations, without feeling like the other “is better than me and I’m slowing him down”, they can really take all the time they need, to grow at their own pace.

^ Growing together

Virgil and Roman’s is not a one-sided relationship, in which one knows more than the other and helps the other reach his level: since they are on the same level, if one of them learns something new, then it’s a victory for them both, because the other will be motivated to do more/learn more as well.

This isn’t just something I think, but something we saw in canon. During AA-part 2, Roman clearly stated that Virgil “make us... better”, thus implying that Virgil acted as a motivator for him.

Then we had FWSA and here we saw this sentence applied the other way around: Roman was the motivator and, thanks to him, Virgil overcame his own anxiety to push Thomas towards Nico. The final result was a victory for them both: Roman got the romance he’s desperately craving, Virgil found out a new aspect of himself: his bravery.

^ The romantic possibility

These two are a walking “enemies to friends to lovers” trope, so I don’t think there’s anything else to add XD

Only that they would both be quite passionate. One is Thomas’ romantic side, the other is heavily influenced by emotions: if the good one takes Virgil, he would probably be a very passionate partner.

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Two couples I understand

Janus and Remus -> I understand the appeal of this one and it would kinda make sense, especially from Remus’ point of view. Remus has (probably) sexual fantasies about anything, so I wouldn't be too surprised if he has a whole collection of sexual fantasies about the Side who is closest to him.

But also, I see them too much like father and son/bestest friends to imagine them having a romantic relationship.

So my take is more like that: Remus has sexual fantasies about Janus, just like he has sexual fantasies about anyone. They are his way to show his affection, how much he cares about Janus and wants to protect him.

But Remus is Remus and he's prone to lose control. That's why, since he reached adolescence and started to develop the sexual aspect, Janus put clear limits that give Remus enough space to express his fantasies, but never past a certain point.

So Remus can be very touchy (because, well, he's Remus) and extremely physical in showing his affections, but never go below a certain point. He can talk in full details about all his sexual fantasies to Janus, but never try to sexually force him. He can try to seduce him or propose sexual things, but never pretend he will accept.

And so, over time, it became a sort of internal joke between them: Remus tells his fantasies at the breakfast table, while Janus rolls his eyes with a "very interesting", they have a laugh, they keep going with their day. Remus wants to cuddle, Janus will cuddle. Remus proposes sex, Janus will just laugh and give him a forehead kiss.

In other words, they are the kind of friends who you can find sprawled on a couch, one on top of the other and imagine they're a couple, while that's just how they read a book together.

Logan and Roman -> This couple isn’t bad at all and I really like the idea of these two having a sorta-romantic crush on each other. It can lead to a lot of poetic/romantic possibilities.

The only problem is: Logan is logic, therefore he would destroy all the romance with one sentence XD and the romantic, poetic scene evoked would turn into these two arguing like madmen.

So, well, maybe the hate-sex would be great, but they would definitely spend too much time arguing. Still, I am very curious about it, so I will keep searching for stuff about them.

#sanders sides ships #sanders sides #janus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #moceit #intrulogical #prinxiety #and a sprinkle of #dukeceit #logince #I know I have pretty basic tastes #it takes me a lot to warm to a couple #I blame the fandom for making these so appealing #i couldn't help myself

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simeonisalesbian · 4 years ago

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💳💥💳💥💳💥 my inner lesbian is kicking in full force because of your blog !! is it okay if i request how the sister's weddings would be? and if it's okay, maybe fem! simeon as well? have a good day/night 💞

*evil laughter* I shall feed all the wlws exactly what they want >:3 Mostly because it is also want I want lmao

Lucifer:

please pull her away from planning the wedding everyone and a while

She's treating it like she treats her paperwork and she's going to pass out from lack of sleep the day of at this rate

she lets you male most of the actual decisions and just does the grunt work of it honestly

She insists that she prefersit this way but she does light up a bit when you ask her to choose the music for the ceremony

She also insists on havinga wedding that doesn't use white as its primary color. She's pretty content with any other color as long as it isnt white

shes extremely stressed on the days leading up to the wedding and will snap at her sisters every chance she gets.

Sometimes its not even their fault she just needs a bit of a punching bag. They silently agreed to put up with it for now though

She plans to wear a suit to the wedding since she just doesn't vibe with the big loud fancy wedding dresses honestly

she looks so relaxed and happy staring at you with all the adoration in the world when the day finally comes

Mammon:

She's honestly so impulsive that if you let her she will just elope as soon as you say yes

If you do want a big ceremony thought let her know she won't mind either way

she promises to help you plan everything but please double check the price on everything she picks

she will bankrupt you both trying to make the biggest shiniest wedding imagable

just gently remind her that more expensive doesn't always mean better

she does does want the primary color to be gold but she'll happily change it if you don't like it

Hell she'll throw out all her ideas if you don't like them honestly

she plans on wearing a suit with all sorts of sparkles on it.

has a big sappy smile on her face the whole day. Though she doesn't cry a lil bit during the actual ceremony which she'll deny of course

Leviathan:

She doesn't want a big wedding. That's her biggest thing honestly. The last thing she wants is to have a panic attack on your wedding day

she did suggest one somewhere by the sea weather it be a beach or just a cliff by the water. She'll leave the specific location to you.

does bring up the concept of a cosplay wedding. Her sisters of course are against it though.

The compromise is a TSL themed wedding. Leviathan has enough knowledge of the series to make it as subtle or outright as you'd prefer of course

She honestly doesn't know wether to wear a suit or a dress. So she asks you which you plan to wear so she can pick the opposite

The day of its a battle to keep Levi from panicking and running off. She's just really concerned your gonna change your mind or end miserable or-

Her sisters are doing everything in their power to keep her grounded don't worry.

when she is finally at the alter with you she's switching between stating at you with the most lovestruck gaze and anxiously fidgeting

You were 100% certain she was going to pass out when you kissed but by some miracle she managed to hold it together

Satan:

she wants her wedding to be pretty traditional tbh.

It still takes so much planning though because your wedding will be Perfect.

she isn't going to settle for anything less.

Her sisters had to hold her back when the flowers the were delivered were wrong at first.

She did spend days debating whether to wear a suit or a dress. Eventually gave up and decided on one that's a mix of both.

Asmodeus does help with picking out the outfit though so don't worry about Satan’s lack of fashion sense

she is the only sister who actually followed the "don't see your SO the morning of your wedding" rule.

Just barely though. She'd stand in the doorway covering her eyes just so she could talk to you for a while

She's blushing with a soft smile the whole ceremony. She also tears up a bit but I wouldn't really call it crying

Asmodeus:

She's says she wants a big wedding. But she'll of course change that I'd you aren't comfortable with that

she wants lots of flowers. They're just so pretty and she wants this wedding to be the most beautiful wedding so lots of flowers

This being said it might work better to just have an out door wedding so the flowers get some fresh air and you aren’t stuck in a room filled with pollen

She's also a pain to deal with since her emotions are running all over the place.

one second she's yelling at someone because the table cloths are the wrong color and the next she's crying cus she's so excited to be married to you

The whole "don't see the bride's dress" thing goes out the window because she both wants to help you and wants you to help pick out her dress

like the wedding she wants the biggest dress imagable

that is until you joke you won't be able to reach her to give her a kiss if she has a dress that big and poofy

She'll still have a big dress just one that's much more reasonable now

she is going to have to be removed from you numerous times the day of because she just has to help with your hair and makeup

Her sisters are this close to just locking her in her room to get her ready honestly

she'll be glued to your side the entire day just so thrilled that you're finally married

Beelzebub:

She's stress eating enough to feed an entire country while planning stuff

Lucifer does have to chain up the fridge at somepoint just so they have enough food to last the week

She's also working out a bunch to try to burn off all the food she ate.

Just try to sit her down for a bit so she can help plan and not focus on her stomach

She doesn't know much about the actual theme and stuff since it honestly doesn't matter much to her

she's happy to go with what ever you pick. She trusts your judgment after all

she thrives in choosing the menu though

not only will you have the biggest and best cake but the rest of the food the will be the best thing that you've ever tasted

There is a secret second cake just incase the first cake isn't enough. It's always good to be prepared.

she's a bit anxious that her dress won't fit the day of because how how much she's been munching on stuff so she has a bigger back up suit just in case.

she does cry during the ceremony just cus she thinks you're so perfect and she will tell you as much.

Belphegor:

also asked if you just wanted to elope. It would have been a lot less work.

She honestly doesn't put in a lot of effort making choices for the wedding.

it's not from lack of trying though. All the choices and options and stressing her out a bit and it's too much

that and she just wants to be married already damn it

she does put in a few ideas though

for instance a night sky themed wedding. There could be both human world and Devildom constellation themed things.

she also teases her sisters with uninviting them anytime they annoy her.

She won't actually uninvite them she just likes seeing them all panicked

Insists you bring Beel for taste testing the food choices since her twin arguably has the best palate

She was apparently half asleep when picking out her dress because on the day of she immediately starts complaining that it's to heavy and that she can't even walk in it.

Luckily Levi could just remove a few layers of the underskirt making it quite a bit lighter.

she looks like she's about to fall asleep a few times throughout the day but she does manage to stay awake

though the dance was a close call since she just kinda leaned only you mumbling nonsense about how much she adored you like she was half asleep

+ Bonus Simeon:

She also plans on a pretty traditional wedding honestly

Though she is pretty open to change.

at first she wanted to have the wedding in a church or even the celestial realm

but she also wanted the others to be comfortable so opted to let you choose somewhere else

Luke and Barbatos make cupcakes to go along with the actual cake

also Luke is the flower girl it's not optional

She's pretty laid back the entire planning process and her stress only shows a little bit when things were a bit off during the rehearsals

you were almost certain she was going to smite Mammon for accidentally spilling her drink

she does follow all the traditional ways of "don't see the bride's dress" and "don't see them the morning of" though she does try to text you the whole morning up until the actual ceremony

she absolutely adores you and smiles at you the entire day.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me simeon #obey me headcanons #obey me genderbend

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ygreczed-3 · 5 years ago

Photo

The Red Guard and the Snow Angel

Hank and Connor’s kiss

Hank and Connor fighting

Hank and Connor having good time with Sumo

Connor’s “I’m not going anywhere”

Gavin and Nines : interface

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

They eventually find something in one of the books : Kamski is known to live in a castle, with 7 beautiful angels to serve him. No one knows how to get to Kamski's castle, since the pike is guarded by the darkness war spirit (actually Kamski being the powerful magician he is, sealed the war spirit to the castle, condemning it to the protection of the whole rock he lives on).

On their first attempt getting to the castle, Hank gets injured, and they're forced to retreat to Nestlepeek

Connor stays near Hank as he recovers, and can't help but touch him with noticeable loving attention. Nines sees him but just decides to say nothing, knowing he's too emotionally compromised with Gavin to give his brother a lesson. Gavin is totally oblivious to that, he's just very bad at hiding his concern for Hank (yes ! he is low-key worried for his human comrade).

Nines somehow gets to talk calmly with Nines, for the first time since the street fight.

Nines : I just don't understand. You've always been so ambitious, always training to be more powerful, why don't you use this aspiration to channel the power source and thus use it? It doesn't make sense. Gavin : It's… It's just too fucking much to process okay ? This war spirit is in me, I can feel its thirst for blood and violence all day long, and I know I can't control him because I…

Gavin just stops before he can say he's too confused with his own priorities now to have a defined goal he can use to canalize the spirit's energy. He used to know what he wanted to do with his power, but now, he feels a latent part of him wants to use it to protect his partners, Hank, and the two snowy idiots. He's still not ready to admit it outloud and thus, the spirit having no specific goal to unleash its violence, is in fact uncontrollable.

Nines, who is a bit more honest with himself than our favorite rat, already knows he cares for Gavin more than he should in regard to his given mission, and just feels so useless when Gavin refuses to talk to him. At this point Nines only wants to help him. He looks quietly at Gavin's nape, where the seal of the war spirit is still noticeable and forms a delicate golden scar. The Golem feels a little contradictory about this scar, one part of him being satisfied and proud of the mark he was able to let on Gavin's body, and the other part of him feeling guilty for it.

Nines : I'm sorry for this. You didn't ask for it and now you have to deal with… a war spirit and unwanted killing desires. I sometimes forget you're only human, it's not in your nature to use magic. Gavin : … It's okay. Let's just… stop talking about the spirit, deal ?

Nines remains carefully silent when Gavin offers his hand in a casual manly shake. He knows humans culturally use handshakes to settle an arrangement, and decides to ignore the deep and intimate meaning of this specific gesture in his own culture. Their hands meet, as Nines' skin unwittingly turns white at the contact, but the golem doesn't pay much attention since a human can't interface anyway. Gavin's smug expression shows he's about to say something but his grin fades away as Nines realizes their mistake : in a flash, he can feel Gavin's doubts about his unsaid desire to protect Nines despite his hatred for golems. Nines isn't sure what passed through the contact and doesn't have a clue on what impression Gavin had about his inner thoughts, or if he even felt or saw something. The human is the first to break the contact. He looks shocked, as he meets Nines' eyes and for a moment, none of them can speak.

Gavin : The hell was that ?!

Nines is confused too : … I didn't know it would… interfaces only happen between magic creatures… Maybe… the spirit allows you to connect with me.

Gavin : What the… You read my thoughts ? Nines : It's not… mind reading. I caught a diffuse… "impression". Gavin : … Shit.

Gavin looks suddenly so betrayed. He looks down and sideways, taking a few steps away, hands on his neck as if he was trying to hide his head between his arms. When Nines tries to get closer, he almost jumps away.

Gavin : Don't- Fuck it, don't… touch me. Nines : I'm sorry, I didn't mean to probe you. Gavin : What exactly did you… hear or whatever? Nines : … I think… I have an answer for why you can't use the spirit's violent spree. Gavin : Fuck you, that was private ! Did you search for it you fucking asshole ? Nines : Like I said, I didn't mean to interface with you ! You too must have seen something from me so stop being a child. Gavin : I didn't-

Nines waits patiently for the end of the sentence but it never comes, as some realization seems to dawn on the human warrior.

Gavin : That nice fluttering in the stomach, when we held hands, actually it was you ?

And for once, Nines is the one to remain silent, his face even but internally too embarrassed to answer the question. No wonder this sensation passed through the connection. For the few seconds their hands touched, Nines was, in a Golem way, experiencing a gesture akin to a kiss, of course he was kind of "emotionally impacted".

Nines : … As I said… let's not embarrass ourselves any further.

And at that exact moment, Gavin realizes that Nines likes him… more than a partner, more than a friend.

In their room, Connor is holding Hank's hand.

Hank : So, what should we do ? Connor : I didn't think about it yet. I wanted to be here when you wake up. Hank : ...I still have three days of bed rest at the very least… Are you sure you want to lose all this time when we're so close to the goal ? I mean, we already went through the desert, you don't need me anymore. Connor : Of course I need you, Hank. Hank : Ahaha… It's nice to go easy on me like this but you don't have to- Connor : You have to trust me, when I say I need you. It's not because I think you can help me go faster or even because I think you can help me cross a specific territory. I just… need you because you mean something to me.

Hank stays quiet but tightens his hand around Connor's, looking down right at them, his large, calloused fingers embracing the golem's white and slender ones. A long and deep look into Connor's golden brown eyes tells him there is more into this already meaningful gesture than he might think.

Connor breaks the eye-contact, and Hank realizes how intense the moment was : Connor's eyes inexplicably make him feel comfortable, as if he was floating in a warm air bubble, and he instantly misses the feeling when Connor stops mirroring his gaze to look down at their hands.

Connor : You know… There is this ultimate quest upon us, something we have to achieve to save our people… And this goal governed us like it was the only thing that mattered… Maybe I'm being a selfish brat, but Hank you're so important to me, I don't want you to be injured or killed in all this. Hank : You're important to me too, Connor. (And then Hank laughs, giving in to his stupid and unwanted feelings.) Actually, you probably couldn't even understand how much you mean to me.

When Connor meets his gaze with a puzzled expression on his face, Hank decides he has to tell him. If anything, Connor could still change his mind and keep going without him, and then Hank will be able to finally move on. He's too fucking old to pine for a pretty boy, and if it's gotta be painful then he wants it the sooner the better.

Hank : I… recently started to develop… indecent feelings… Connor, purposely obtuse: "Indecent" ? Hank : I mean... in a… hum… romantic way. Come on kid, don't make me say it. Connor : Why would "romantic" be "indecent" ? Hank : Dunno, I'm old and pathetic, you're young and cute, sounds indecent to me. Connor : Hank… I love you too. Hank : ...You, huh... Sorry what ? Connor : I mean every single word in this sentence, Hank, I really do. Hank : … Oh.

Connor chuckles at Hank's blank expression, as his poor brain processes the information with unprecedented difficulty. And as Hank starts moving again, his brows frowning and his mouth forming an "o" like he was gonna say "why ?!", Connor just leans towards him and brushes his beard with his lips before meeting his mouth, softly.

And god, they love it. Hank leans forward to deepen the kiss, Connor catches his beard, his fingers following the edges of his chiseled jaw until they reach his neck and nestle around it.

And it's a weird sensation to Hank because he used to know what was hot passion and what was tenderness, and at this very moment, he could feel both in Connor's grip, burning fire and smooth touches at the same time. That's it, love, love everywhere.

They separate because the older man needs to breathe and hopefully, Connor remembered it because Hank was just gonna kiss him until he falls unconscious.

Hank : Am I dead ? Connor : You're thankfully alive and safe, but you need rest. Stay calm. Hank : I can't believe it… i'm… almost scared of falling asleep and realize you're gone when I wake up. Connor smiles smugly at this : he takes Hank's hand in his own, kisses the palm softly, his deep dark eyes locked on Hank's. Connor : Sleep tight. I'm not going anywhere.

So, as soon as Hank can walk again, the party goes back to Kamski's peek.

Hank : I feel better but I admit that I don't think I'm able to fight anything right now. Maybe we can find another way ? Gavin : Humans and Golems can't beat a war spirit. But, huh… a war spirit could do. Nines : … Is that you you're talking about? Gavin : 'Know another war spirit around here ? Nines : But you… you can't control it… I mean, you're obviously facing a dilemma with your own motivations right now. I don't think you should endanger yourself in this state… Hank : What dilemma ? Gavin : Not your business. It's fine, I just need… I just need to meditate a little bit more. Connor : We don't need much more than a distraction just a moment until we reach the castle. There we'll activate the seal and it should stunt the spirit for some time. Nines : I'm not letting him go alone. Gavin : Still don't trust me, snow man ? Nines : I'm concerned for your well being. I wanna help. Hank : Well then we can do that. Nines and Gavin take care of the spirit and Connor, we get to the castle as fast as we can. You're good ? Connor : … Yeah, that sounds good. I just need to talk with Nines. In private.

Hank and Gavin just look at each other, surprised, but then they leave the brothers for their serious talk.

Connor : What was that ? "I'm concerned for you well being" ? Gavin is right, only a war spirit can compete with a war spirit… even if we wanted to, we couldn't help. Nines : Gavin can't control his spirit. I saw it when we interfaced, he truly can't, no matter how much he meditates, as long as he will have this dilemma, he can't make it. Connor : Wait what ?! Interfaced ? How ? Nines : Guess the spirit makes him sensible to magic connections. Connor : What's the deal ? Why can't he control it yet ? He's strong enough, and for what I know, ambitious enough, so it's only a matter of… Nines : He's confused. He grew fond of us, and he knows we're basically enemies. We're all being reckless, he's the only one to keep this truth in mind; if we can't reach Kamski, or if he refuses to help us, we'll have to go back to the war we left, go back to kill each other. He can't resign himself to accept his attachment to us if we're going to be his enemies again. Connor : … Do you think he can make it ? Against the darkness war spirit ? Nines : I don't. That's why he needs me there. If the thunder spirit takes control of his body, I'll be there to hit the seal in his neck. Connor : Oh Nines… You love him, don't you? Nines : … We're selfish and weak, Con. This mission… our whole kind is waiting for us to succeed. And we're threatening this long awaited deliverance because we fell for humans… Connor : ...That's why we can't fail. I understand you're worried but maybe… Maybe that's the reason why Gavin wants to try : he knows we can't fail now.

In the final act, Gavin and Nines get ready to fight with the war spirit, while Hank and Connor plan on reaching the castle as fast as they can, and find Kamski.

Gavin and Nines are hiding near the war spirit.

Nines : … Are you ready ? Gavin : I don't really have a choice there.

Gavin breathes deeply and steadily, to focus and calm down before entering the arena.

Nines : I'll be flying right behind you, okay ? It's factually stronger than me, so I have to maintain minimal distance with it, but I'll be ready to hit your seal when you need me to, and help you run away if you're in a bad state. Gavin scoffs : Thanks Snowman, I feel so confident right now, with you believing in me like this. Nines : … Sorry I just… worry. Gavin : Look, I was right, at that time, I couldn't do it and I was totally right. But today I… I'll do it. And I want to prove it to you.

In front of Nines' incredulous stare, Gavin offers his hand : Nines narrows his eyes as he detects static electricity all around his fingers, as if his spirit was already eager to fight.

Nines : … Do you know what it means to us, Golems ? Interfacing with someone ? Gavin : Enlighten me, snow man. Nines : ...I'll tell you if we survive this fight. Gavin : Huh… fair enough. Now, take my hand, I'll show you.

Nines gulps nervously and reaches for Gavin's hand, his own fingers turning white as he gets closer to the human's warm skin.

And he can feel everything. It's a lot less blurry and chaotic than the first time, as somehow Nines' first sensation is Gavin's serenity about sharing his deep feelings. He catches a volatile thought that flies through the human mind, saying in a flippant tone "we might die, no need to get embarrassed", and smiles at it. Interfacing with Gavin is very special for some reason : Nines had interfaced with other Golems before but it was never so vibrant, so intense. "Maybe that's because we're about to die" he feels, and for a moment he wonders if that comes from him or from Gavin. Nines feels like Gavin is an extension of himself at that very moment. Suddenly, the realization he's gonna fight against a gigantic, ancient war spirit dawns on him. He feels scared, sure but somehow, confident as well. He can do it. He will do it now, because if he fails, he'd give up on his people in Detroit, his friends Hank and (surprisingly) Connor. He would give up on Nines and he's not ready to. He used to fear that he was making friends with an enemy… That they'd have to separate at some point, and go back to where they belonged, Detroit and Jericho. But if Gavin fails now, Detroit and Jericho are doomed. He used to fear that death was preying upon him… now he fears that his team could die. That Nines could…

If he fails now, Nines and he will be dead, and that is much more scary than befriending a Golem.

Nines frowns as he feels Gavin's hand twitching in his, as if he was about to draw it back. He wants to stay connected, he wants to melt into Gavin's mind, because he feels so scared right now.

All he can catch is a glimpse of something that sounds like "I have found some higher purpose in life than my own existence", before Gavin breaks the contact.

When Nines opens his eyes again, they're wet and his breath is short. Gavin too, seems a bit shaken up by the interface.

Nines wonders what exactly the human saw/felt/heard from him and feels very self conscious for a floating second. He wants to kiss the human, he can feel it in his vein, the fire of love rushing, burning his cold body. Gavin must have felt it through the interface… and somehow, Nines wonders if he knows. He doesn't seem shocked or… disgusted.

Gavin : You okay ? Nines : Yeah… I'm ready to go.

Gavin exhales sharply : Alright, let's do this.

Nines : I've got your back. Everything will be alright.

So they get out of their hiding spot and as Nines takes off, Gavin summons the thunder spirit.

We then follow Hank and Connor, who are climbing up the rocky column at the top of which Kamski established his castle. Actually, Hank climbs it and Connor flies around to help him find the safe grips.

They're constantly attacked by monsters with long members (parts of the war spirit), and can't fight them all back. They decide to run forward, and they finally reach a huge grid in a tunnel : Connor can pass between two bars, but Hank can't. Behind them, the monsters are getting closer.

Hank : Run before they catch us up ! Connor : Wait, there must be a way for you- Hank : I'm sure there must be, Connor, but we won't find the solution in the next few minutes we have. You have to keep going without me. Connor : What are you gonna do ? They're gonna outnumber you, and… and you're still healing from the last injury--- Hank : You have to find Kamski ! He must know how to stop those monsters, and the war spirit out there. He can help us ! Connor : … Yeah, right.

Connor puts his hands on the floor and ice columns grow up from the ground, keeping Hank in a safe space. When the man looks back at Connor with tenderness and gratitude, Connor kisses him through the bars.

Connor : The ice won't last long but it can buy you some time… Hank I… I love you. Don't let me down. Hank : I swear. Now, run, and don't look back.

Connor nods and starts running to the castle, as the monsters start to attack ferociously the ice cage Connor created. Hank knows it's not gonna last much longer, and that he'll have to fight. He prays to be able to see Connor again.

#The red guard and the snow angel #TRGATSA #dbh #detroit become human au #dbh hank #dbh hank x connor #dbh hankcon #hankcon #gavin reed #dbh gavin #dbh nines #dbh reed900 #reed900 #detroit become human

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stylesnews · 4 years ago

Link

“Feeling good in my skin/ I just keep on dancing,” Harry Styles sings in his latest single, “Treat People With Kindness.” And in the song’s exuberant music video -- which has garnered 17 million YouTube views and counting since its debut on New Year’s Day -- he does just that: Wearing a sequined jacket and bow tie, he chassés, spins and flutters jazz hands like an MGM musical star (with a little help from his equally debonair partner, Fleabag’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge).

Styles shot the video in early 2019 after several weeks of training with choreographer Paul Roberts, a collaborator since his One Direction days. “I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this could be something special,” says Roberts, a veteran stage director and choreographer who’s worked on videos and tours for the likes of Sam Smith, Katy Perry, Diana Ross, and the Spice Girls (their Spiceworld stadium tour).

Watching the explosive fan reaction to Styles’s little known dance talents -- including from the Spice Girls, who've “sent lovely messages" about the video -- Roberts says it seems like "Treat People With Kindness" arrived at the precise right moment. “Most people’s comments are, ‘I’ve not felt that happy for three and a half minutes in a long time,’ or ‘I smiled from ear to ear the whole way through.’ It’s a positive light.”

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

There’s been one pretty overwhelming reaction to this video: “This is the guy who was in the group that insisted they couldn’t dance?!” Did you expect this kind of reaction to Harry dancing? I’ve been with Harry for 10 years: I was with the One Direction boys from the beginning the whole way through their career before they took the hiatus, and they always made a very conscious decision that they didn’t want choreography as part of their brand -- but they did want a kind of disheveled organization in order to allow the cameras and the lighting to stand a chance in terms of presenting them in the best manner possible.

What was very evident to me was that all five of them, and then it obviously became four, they’ve all got their own magic. The only time I’ve experienced that was when I worked with the Spice Girls. I always knew that they had special skills aside from what they were in One Direction, whether it was movement, songwriting, being able to handle the business side of things. For such young lads they were very astute and very decisive. So, getting together with Harry -- he’s a bit of an alchemist, is Harry. Everything he turns his hand to turns to gold. Where did the initial dance-centric concept come from? Harry and the directors, Ben and Gabe [Turner], sent me a video link to the Nicholas Brothers scene from Stormy Weather and Harry asked me, "How long do you think it would take to dance like this?" I was like, "OK, are you being serious?" "Yeah, I’m being serious."

That is probably one of the most standout dance sequences ever captured on film -- so I knew we were aiming high. I said, "Why don’t we go into a studio and let’s workshop some choreography, some moves, some short sequences, and see what your ability is, see how we can tailor this to make you look the best you can possibly look." Obviously it would take some investment in terms of rehearsal and commitment, I told him it would be mentally and physically exhausting, but I thought, "My God yeah, let’s do it; this will be an adventure."

How long did the whole process take? We started in mid-January 2019, and we rehearsed and workshopped for about four to five weeks before the shoot, every day. Both Harry and Phoebe had other things going on, so, for instance, Phoebe was working on the new Bond movie in Canada, so I sent my assistant to Canada to work with her. I stayed in the U.K. with Harry, and then we went to L.A. where Harry shot two more videos, for “Watermelon Sugar” and “Falling.”

What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost. Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

At this point Harry and Phoebe were still working separately, and then we joined forces in London, where we really started to refine these sequences of choreography we’d developed, trying to find the finesse and the style, almost making sense of the movement for them so they felt they had a dancer’s way of working the movement through the body. You’ve worked with a wide variety of artists, many of whom aren’t dancers first. How do you find, as you put it, the “language” of movement that makes sense for each of them as individuals?

I think the general answer is really communicating -- listening and understanding what the artist’s desire is. And also collaborating, so you don’t get too lost in yourself as a choreographer. What looks good on you might not transcend to the artist, or even necessarily the dancers.

With Harry, what was important within the language of the choreography was that it felt joyful and had personality. Him and Phoebe, with the work she’s done with Fleabag, you associate them and what they do with a sense of style, a real confidence, but at the heart of it it’s entertainment. And with the amount of time and budget we had, which was such a luxury in this day and age, we wanted to do something that pushed both of them out of their comfort zones. We tried to make it as athletic as possible but without compromising them as artists and becoming too comedic. We wanted it to be a bit quaint and cute in places, but we definitely didn’t want it to be thought of as nonsensical or silly.

Harry’s movement in the video is so crisp and precise, even his hands and arm extension look very dancerly. Did that come through a lot of specific work with you? As a songwriter and artist, for Harry it’s about detail, about pushing yourself to be the best. He’s always got questions: "Why are we doing that? Should we be doing this?" We got to a point during the rehearsal period where I brought in a ballet teacher, really to just get Harry and Phoebe to open themselves up from behind their shoulder blades, have an idea of extension, the lines that extend from your center all the way to the tip of your finger. I’d be saying, “Your arms Harry, your arm line!” Asking him to push his shoulders down, lift his carriage up, extend through his breast. And when he hit those lines, he’d be like, “Oh yeah, that feels different.” It’s funny: We spent a couple days apart -- he had to go off and do a gig somewhere -- and I was like, “I hope you’re rehearsing when you’ve got some downtime, dude!” And he sent me a picture in the gym with his arms in the most beautiful balletic arm line! I was like, "Yes, by George, you’ve got it!" Besides the Nicholas Brothers, did you have any particular dance references in mind for the feel of the choreography? I just delved into the MGM archives. Obviously [Fred] Astaire and [Gene] Kelly, the two greats -- especially with Astaire, we loved how sometimes it seems so effortless yet a bit throwaway, not totally totally perfect always. We enjoyed the moments from him of “I’ll just do a bit of this,” “I’ll just walk off camera left,” the dropping in and out of movement. We loved the duet “Moses Supposes” from Singin’ in the Rain, for Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor -- we loved the camaraderie between them, which felt a bit goofball at times, and just that wry smile, the look to the left, knowing your partner is there and has got your back. It feels fizzy, it feels joyful.

And yes, there was a massive core of MGM-ism, but at the same time an absolute huge dollop of Harry-and-Phoebe-ism. It was important to us to feel a bit more contemporary, so again we stay true to Harry and Phoebe as artists. Has Harry indicated any interest in dancing more going forward?

We had a conversation back at the end of the summer about how much we enjoyed the process, and I know he was doing another project where choreography was involved, so we were just talking about it and how he felt. Coming from where he came from to what he was about to do, he felt he could be pushed even further. I don’t know if he got the bug, or if it’s just the way he is as a person, very inquisitive and wanting to keep elevating himself. There’s now been some talk on social media that it can’t be long before Harry does Broadway. What do you think?

I mean, I think with Harry Styles, anything is possible, is it not? I mean, I’m sure because he’s tasted the dance, he’ll inject that along the line in his career. It won’t necessarily be out-and-out dancing, but I guess it’s a bit like Bowie used to do, isn’t it? It’s the showmanship and presentation of the performance. Who knows? He’s just so open-minded and open-hearted — and because he’s so open it allows the universe to come back at him and he’s able to do anything he sets his mind to.

#harry styles #jan21 #paul roberts #billboard #article #tpwkmv

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kingstylesdaily · 4 years ago

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How Harry Styles Found His Inner Dancer For 'Treat People With Kindness'

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

At the end of the “Watermelon Sugar” shoot, he wrapped, got in his car, came to the dance studio and we rehearsed into the night. Knowing how short a time you sometimes get with artists even for really big performances, I thought the rehearsals would dilute and we’d lose momentum, but both Phoebe and Harry were so committed. What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost. Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

via billboard.com

#kingstylesdaily #Harry Styles #hs: tpwk #January 2021 #hs: news

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hlupdate · 4 years ago

Link

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

There’s been one pretty overwhelming reaction to this video: “This is the guy who was in the group that insisted they couldn’t dance?!” Did you expect this kind of reaction to Harry dancing?

I’ve been with Harry for 10 years: I was with the One Direction boys from the beginning the whole way through their career before they took the hiatus, and they always made a very conscious decision that they didn’t want choreography as part of their brand -- but they did want a kind of disheveled organization in order to allow the cameras and the lighting to stand a chance in terms of presenting them in the best manner possible.

Where did the initial dance-centric concept come from?

Harry and the directors, Ben and Gabe [Turner], sent me a video link to the Nicholas Brothers scene from Stormy Weather and Harry asked me, "How long do you think it would take to dance like this?" I was like, "OK, are you being serious?" "Yeah, I’m being serious."

How long did the whole process take?

We started in mid-January 2019, and we rehearsed and workshopped for about four to five weeks before the shoot, every day. Both Harry and Phoebe had other things going on, so, for instance, Phoebe was working on the new Bond movie in Canada, so I sent my assistant to Canada to work with her. I stayed in the U.K. with Harry, and then we went to L.A. where Harry shot two more videos, for “Watermelon Sugar” and “Falling.”

#harry styles #articles #tpwk #120121

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butmakeitgayblog · 5 years ago

Text

Demon!AU Snippet

/////////

After much deliberation and help from my merry band of short bottoms, here's the decidedly most PG rated snippet I could find, enjoy? Hopefully?

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"Oop, hot delivery girl, incoming," Raven whispered, a devious smile stretching over her face.

"Wha-"

Clarke jumped slightly at the quiet thud beside her, eyes swinging around to take in the brilliant pink box now sitting squarely in the middle of her desk. Before she could react, a grey skirt covered hip slid just over the edge of her desk, nudging aside her nameplate and outgoing stack of mail to create an impromptu seat.

"Morning, gorgeous."

She barely bit back a groan at the voice.

Raven grinned, leaning forward on her elbows and looking up at the woman now perched on Clarke's desk. "Well, good morning to you too, Lexa."

Perfect.

Clarke tried her hardest to stay focused on her annoyance at Lexa having such a brazen disregard for things such as personal spaces and belongings and the entirety of office etiquette, pushing down the thoughts of how well that satin burgundy shirt hugged every last one of her curves.

Cheeks pinking in failure, she compromised and settled on averting her eyes to the safety of her computer.

"Oh, morning. Did you do something with your hair, Reyes?" Lexa questioned, reaching out right across Clarke's screen to gently tug on one of Raven's flowing locks. "Sexy. Looks good."

Sighing in resignation at the obviousness of Lexa's antics, Clarke stopped typing and flopped back silently in her chair, feeling that typical flare of anger. Because who did that? Who does this? Who just sits themselves down on top of a veritable stranger's desk and starts flirting with their coworker? Who practically shoves their ass in someone's face just to sweet talk and charm someone who is distinctly not the work area's owner?

"I did," Raven said, breaking through her silent tirade with pleased smile tinting her features. "Got it trimmed over the weekend and got an oil treatment. Thank you for noticing."

Feeling a pinch to her arm Clarke grunted a soft, "Ow," sucking in a breath as she rubbed the injured area and glared at her friend. "I'm sorry, okay? I told you I had a rough morning."

"Oh, no. What happened? Bad dreams?" Lexa frowned, tucking a wisp of blonde behind Clarke's ear before pulling back. "Or good dreams?

Blue eyes flew up to the face obviously fighting a smile, an unreadable glint coloring the hooded gaze looking back.

Sucking in a breath at the insanely inappropriateness of that, at feeling somehow Lexa was currently seeing every flash of their torrid dreamtime coupling that was currently flying through her mind at that very moment. Clarke coughed out a quiet choking sound before clearing her throat with a shake of her head. "No," she stated, adjusting in her chair at the tick of a brunette brow and adding firmly, "and no... I'm fine."

Turning back to see her coworker smirking and glancing between them, Clarke narrowed her eyes and pointedly continued. "And I would've noticed eventually, Raven. It's been like five minutes since you sat down."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Lexa noticed at least," Raven flicked her wrist in dismal. "Who needs you?"

"Rave-"

"Ignore her, Clarke," she heard as slim fingers slowly turned her head forward and up, finding a heated grin zeroed in on her. "I need you."

The altogether too intimate touch and tone was gone before she could even begin to process it as Lexa casually moved to open the box beside her, flipping the top and continuing as though nothing had happened.

"Anyway, I had a craving this morning and couldn't stop myself, but I definitely went a little overboard. Figured I'd share."

Breathable oxygen still very much an issue after the gentle handling and warm words, Clarke dazedly looked down to see a small array of sweets.

"Oh my God," Raven moaned, pitching forward over the span of their desks to look through the variety of cupcakes with eagle-eyed precision. "Have I ever mentioned I love you, Lexa?"

"Buttercream can have that effect on people," Lexa hummed, leaning a palm down to support her weight as she practically lazed back across Clarke's desk. "Help yourself. Just leave the-"

"I know, I know," Raven rolled her eyes, fingers already lifting a chocolate and caramel monstrosity out of the box and bringing it to her mouth.

Snapping out of her reverie, Clarke drew in a quick breath and tsked at her deskmate as she sat back down. "It's like eight in the morning, Raven."

"So?" she muffled through a face full of cupcake.

"Technically, it's 8… 22," Lexa unhelpfully supplied, checking and then double checking the gleaming white gold watch sat neatly on her wrist. Clarke watched a slim finger drag through the chocolate of one of the cupcakes in a slow swoop. "Everyone knows you're allowed to sin after 8am."

"That makes no sense whatsoever," Clarke frowned, her focus now centered entirely on the woman draped over her work area.

"Trust me, Clarke," Lexa assured in a whisper while bringing the frosting covered fingertip to her mouth. Full red lips wrapped around the sugary digit before sliding it back out clean. "I'm an expert."

With that Lexa hopped up, legs swinging out in a graceful swoop as she lifted herself back onto the ground and hands slid over her chest in a show of straightening out the delicate fabrics of her clothes. Clarke valiantly tried not to watch how the slick material bunched and tugged in all the right places, a small inner voice chastising herself when the only coherent thoughts were of the fit and cut of her outfit.

It was annoying how everything seemed to fit like it was made for no other body than Lexa's own.

"Raven, I have a meeting at 11 that I need you to push back to 3," Lexa said as she finished her preening and collected her confectionery haul. "Charles wants to go over the contracts for a new client so I'll probably be busy dealing with kissing his ass until lunch."

"You got it, boss lady," Raven nodded, immediately turning to her computer at the instruction. "Not that I believe for a second you kiss anyone's ass around here."

"Oh, there's one or two," Lexa hummed, actually having the nerve to openly let her eyes trail over to Clarke for a moment, throwing in a final wink before sauntering away and leaving Clarke to her ruddy cheeked stupor.

Traitorously her eyes followed after, watching the hitch and sway of rounded hips and long legs as they glided through the office in high, pristine heels. Strong yet slim shoulders flexed with the confident swing of toned arms as she walked like she owned everyone within sight. The dip of her back looked so good wrapped in the smooth material of her blouse, its color and texture seeming almost liquid in the sunlight that slanted through the tall office windows; its smooth deep color spilling over the curve of her firm, full, squeezable looking-

"You need some alone time with that view?"

"What?" Clarke startled, head snapping back around to see her wickedly grinning friend as she carelessly took another bite of her treat.

"You looked like you were trying to get her pregnant with that stare."

"That-... No. Shut up. I wasn't even-... Shut up."

"Articulate. But what I don't understand is why you act like such an angry virgin every time she's around," Raven said, thoroughly ignoring the horrified look that stretched over Clarke's face. "I mean the girl comes up with the dumbest excuses to come talk to you, and you barely ever say two words. At least none that aren't hostile."

"She doesn't though," Clarke argued despite Raven's dubious look. "She came here to flirt with you. 'Ooo Raven, your hair's so sexy'," she mimicked in a nasally voice, dodging the free hand slapping her away as she moved to caress Raven's admittedly beautiful black tendrils. "Besides her being an HR ticking time bomb with how obvious she is, you're married for God's sake."

"You're so dumb. She didn't come here to flirt with me, dude. She came to give you that," Raven laughed and shook her head, reaching over to tap a finger on Clarke's desk.

Clarke followed her line of sight, face scrunching up in surprised confusion at noticing the perfectly placed red and white cupcake sitting on the front edge of her desk.

"Haven't you ever noticed whenever she 'accidentally' gets too many cupcakes, miraculously and mysteriously there's one red velvet in there? And it always miraculously and mysteriously ends up in your very own little combative ass hands?" Raven asked, rolling her eyes at Clarke's disgruntled look of dawning realization. "Homegirl sure as hell doesn't know my favorite flavor, I take what I can get."

"... I guarantee you, it's a coincidence," Clarke said immediately busied herself with fixing the arrangement of her work belongings. "Lexa's… I don't even know what. But thoughtful or kind or whatever the hell everyone here seems to think, isn't one of them."

"What has she ever done to you? Why do you dislike her so much?" Raven asked.

"How do you not? She's so… I mean how does no one else see it? She's insanely unprofessional, and says just the, ugh. The things that come out of her mouth. She flirts with everything in a skirt and bosses people around who've been here for years. Besides, haven't you noticed all the weird stuff that's happened?"

"Clarke, we're a startup marketing firm that caters to millennials. Of course there's weird shit going on around here. It's a circus filled with idiots."

"No," Clarke said firmly. "You don't get it, you weren't here before she got here. Things were quiet and fine at the old building and now everything's crazy. Contracts always going missing, John literally just disappeared one day-"

"You realize he probably just quit."

"The whole office has this weird vibe now," she continued on a roll. "I have never seen so many mess ups and freak accidents in an office building of all places before in my life. And she's always just… there."

Raven just stared at her with a blank look of boredom, slowly chewing a bite of her cupcake before swallowing and shaking her head. "Again. You realize everything you described sounds normal for a company who's recently expanded, right? Personnel turnover, paperwork mistakes, general growing pains as they adjust? And you're blaming her for that? When she's literally been nothing but nice to both of us?"

"She just… rubs me the wrong way."

"I think your issue is wanting her to rub you the right way."

Clarke scoffed in an overwhelming show of disgust, ignoring the swoop of her stomach to needlessly re-straighten the pile papers in her hands before carelessly tossing them aside. "You've lost your mind if you think I could even think about her like that. I've seen the way she looks at other people around here, believe me, she's not all sunshine and cupcakes. There's something up with her... Besides, she's annoying. And cocky. You guys treat her like she's God's gift but in reality she's just another asshat lawyer who thinks she's the master of the universe… And she's not even that pretty."

Clarke hadn't meant to go on such a vitriolic vomit of words but it was hard sometimes having to listen to the endless poetic waxing of the woman's praises. It just never stopped, and Clarke genuinely couldn't understand how not one single other person seemed to be able to see through Lexa's bullshit. Her pompousness and irritatingly smooth talking at every interaction. Like somehow her taking the time to figure out Clarke's favorite cupcake and going to the trouble of buying it for her… and hand delivering it to her desk… could or should somehow make up for the salaciousness of her smirk.

"Hey, Clarke?" she heard beside her after a moment.

"What?" she breathed, trying not to let her frazzled nerves get the best of her as she faced Raven with expectant annoyance.

"Can you turn this way?... Now do this," Raven asked, tilting her own head this way and that as her eyes roved over Clarke's face from different angles.

"Why?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm just thinking about what contouring would work best with your clown makeup, you gigantic fucking liar."

She easily ducked the halfheartedly slap Clarke aimed at her shoulder before carelessly tossing her empty wrapper in the bin between them and swiveling to resume tapping at her keyboard.

"I'm just saying," Raven continued, "you're fooling no one with that act. You'd have to be blind not to see how attractive that woman is. I'm happily married and even I don't exactly mind watching her shake her ass past your desk fifty-some-odd times a day. She's a hottie with a body, Clarke. Everyone, including you, can see that."

"You're as bad as she is. And I'm telling your wife you said that."

"Bold of you to assume I haven't said it to her myself... Granted, it was in the context of me wanting you two to just knock boots already, but she's aware I work with eye candy and she doesn't care. My lady knows I'm faithful, I can eye-fuck whoever I want."

"You and Anya defy all sense of reasonable relationship standards."

"That was part of the deal," Raven hummed, clearly becoming more distracted as she leaned closer to her screen and focusing on her work.

Sighing deeply at the apparent dismissal, Clarke resigned herself to the day as she clicked back into the long list of emails waiting for her… and begrudgingly took a bite of her cupcake.

////////////////

More soon 😈

#demon!lexa #clexa #lexa x clarke #clexa fanfic #it's still rough be gentle

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downwiththeficness · 5 years ago

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A Need So Great-Chapter 14

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~3,300

Warnings: Smut

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty @anaeve

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

The ocean was huge. Wind blowing her hair around her face as Eva sat on the cliff’s edge, her feet swinging. The waves were rushing towards her, the tide coming in. She could taste salt in the air, could feel a light spray even from this height. This was really, really nice.

Footsteps sounded behind her, Horacio ambling up the slight incline. He was wearing a t shirt and jeans, a far cry from his normal attire. Eva admired the way the denim clung to his legs, the shirt stretching to accommodate the breadth of his body. She gave him a little wave before turning her attention back to the water. He sat down next to her. They had spent almost a week at the house, their existence a soft moseying pace that belied the very real danger to their lives.

“Do you come here a lot?”

He shook his head, “I used to, back before I took the badge. The work kind of got in the way of taking any time off.”

She had seen that first hand, could tell that he was desperately soaking up the softness of this little hideaway, storing it for when he needed it most. Tucked away as they were, Eva could almost forget all of the turmoil waiting for them when they returned. She imagined he felt nearly the same way.

“Shame that you’re here under these circumstances. This is a nice place.”

Eva could see him look at her from the corner of her eye. He placed a hand atop hers, “Its not a shame, just a compromise.”

Her mouth thinned, “Still…” She trailed off, not sure where she was going with the sentence.

He squeezed her hand, “Up. Dinner’s ready.”

Eva was not much of a cook, though she was pretty good at making staple foods. Horacio, on the other hand, clearly learned something from his mother. The way he handled himself in the kitchen was much like he did at work—mission oriented. Eva would sometimes sit at the dining table and flip through an old magazine, not really reading it. She like to watch him move around, a knife in hand to chop vegetables, or flipping over meat in the pan to brown it.

Today’s meal was a stuffed pepper, spices wafted in the air. He’d made rice to go alongside it. From the cellar, he’d pulled a bottle of wine, two glasses already waiting at their usual spots. Eva couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she sat down. He’d already plated their food and she leaned down, inhaling.

“This looks amazing,” she murmured, picking up her fork, “Thank you.”

He made a non-committal sound, as he usually did when she complimented him on his cooking. She cast him a long glance, noting that he was avoiding her gaze by pouring the wine. He did that a lot, took the praise she gave him and pulled it inside himself. She could tell he was pleased by the little flush across his cheeks, but other than that, it was as if he hadn’t heard her. She wondered if that was a product of his life—couldn’t be too eager for approval.

After dinner, Horacio left her on the couch to do a walk of the perimeter, as he did every evening before they locked up. It would take one of his patented interrogation techniques to get her to admit how attractive it was to watch him load a rifle and take the path around the house and out towards the woods.

He would be gone for an hour or so, depending on what he decided needed further investigation. Eva passed the time by taking a long shower and reading yet another way too old magazine in bed. The bedroom windows were open and the breeze was carrying the smell of the ocean inside.

The sun was almost set when he came back, moving into the bedroom and storing the rifle in a case that he kept laying on the chest at the foot of the bed. He straightened and looked at her for a long moment.

“What?” she asked, feeling anxious under his steady stare.

His expression softened, “I like you like this.”

Laughing softly, she lifted a brow, “You mean wearing a t shirt I’ve owned for five years and my hair still wet because I couldn’t be bothered to dry it?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, “I mean relaxed.”

Eva supposed that she was relaxed, though she had every reason not to be. She liked him relaxed, too.

“I feel safe.”

Jaw going lax, he regarded her for a few more seconds before giving a curt nod and turn, “I’m gonna get cleaned up.”

Eva noticed that he took a little longer in the shower than usual, had done so since they got to the safe house. She tried not to read into it too deeply, knowing that he was off his schedule. And, everyone needed alone time.

When he left the bathroom, steam billowed out behind him, carrying the scent of his body wash. He was wearing his usual boxer briefs in a deep maroon. It was a good color for him, accenting the warm undertones of his skin. She stared at him, unabashed, and wondered how she’d gotten so lucky as to share a bed with such a beautiful man.

“What?” he asked, noting her look as he crawled in beside her to lay on top of the covers.

Eva set her magazine on the night stand and rolled to her side, bracing on her palm so that she hovered above his prone body.

“I like you like this.”

In the next second, Eva got to see those adorable dimples, his teeth flashing as he smiled. She leaned down and kissed him affectionately.

When he spoke next, his voice reverberated against her ear where it lay on his chest. He toyed with her hand, threading his fingers through it.

“We’ve come a long way these last few months.”

She hummed, nodding. His hand was calloused in a few places, the longer fingers curling over her palm. Her hand looked small when he held it, her wrist even smaller, her forearm positively tiny when compared to his.

“I never would have guessed after that meeting that I’d get to bring you here.”

Eva grinned, looking up at him, “I was a fucking mess after that meeting. I hope you know that.”

The features of his face tightened in a peculiar way, an involuntary twitch.

Eva’s grin widened, “That was an inside thought.”

Laughing, Horacio admitted, “It was.”

“Tell me.”

He started to shake his head, but Eva shifted to her belly, resting her weight on one elbow. She said his name in four long, drawn out, teasing syllables.

Pulling his lips between his teeth and releasing them, he simply said, “I was also a fucking mess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoed, one hand coming up to run over his face, top to bottom. He covered his eyes, chin tilting up, “I…” deep sigh, “I went into rut after that meeting.”

Her brows hit her hairline, “Really?”

He dropped his hand to the pillow beside his head, the fingers relaxed, “I told you it took less than twenty four hours for me to start trying to figure out how to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Eva confirmed, “But I assumed you were just, I don’t know, thinking about me.”

Smirking, he said, “Oh, I was.”

Her breath caught a little bit, arousal blooming in her belly as she imagined him in rut, helplessly trying to get off as he thought about her.

Voice dropping low, Eva prompted, “Really?”

His eyes darkened as he tucked her hair behind her ear, “I barely made it home before I—I didn’t even get past the front door. Just dropped down to the floor and thought about how delicious you smelled, the things I wanted to do to you.”

Blood heating in her veins, Eva swallowed around a dry throat, “What kinds of things?”

Horacio’s arm tightened around her, his eyes dropping to her mouth, “That I wanted to kiss you. That I should have thrown you down on that table in front of that idiot manager and fucked you through at least three orgasms.”

Her breath left her in a rush. She worked hard to keep herself calm. He didn’t talk that much about his fantasies, and she was desperate to hear more from him. Eva did not want to interrupt.

She kissed him softly in encouragement, “What else?”

Breathing her name, he ran his thumb over her mouth, “I could scent that you were aroused when you sat down. I wanted to lick that sweetness from the source, use my fingers to scoop it out of you. I spent hours imaging what it would be like to pull your legs over my shoulders and kiss this pretty pussy.”

The fingers of one of his hands had traced up her inner thigh in a lazy caress. He cupped her, massaging very gently. She gasped lifting her leg over his hip to open up for him.

“We’re very lucky you haven’t had a heat cycle yet. Given how I was in my last rut, I’d probably lose my fucking mind.”

Eva flinched, feeling guilty.

“What was that?” he asked, head lifting off the pillow to regard her closely.

She floundered, trying to come up with a suitable lie.

“Eva,” he warned, “What was that?”

Voice small, she said, “I’ve had a heat recently.”

His head cocked to the side, “Before we met?”

She shook her head, “No it was after we met, after we started seeing each other.”

He blinked, “That’s impossible, I would have known.”

Unable to keep eye contact she admitted, “You weren’t there. It was when you were gone for that mission.”

He processed that for several seconds, his eyes narrowing more and more, “Your voice was strange on the phone.”

Eva nodded, “I was on the upswing of it. It got...more interesting over the next few days.”

Horacio’s brows furrowed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Eva was torn by the honest, confused expression he was giving her, as if he couldn’t even fathom that she’d hide it from him. Guilty, she offered the only explanation she had.

“You were so excited. You said you thought you had a real chance at ending the whole cartel. How could I take that away from you? Especially since we’d only slept together a handful of times. It would have been selfish to ask you to set that aside for me.”

Stop talking, Eva, she thought.

Pushing off with one hand, he rolled her beneath him, resting his weight on his palms. Eva looked up at him silently, trying to gauge his thoughts.

“You’re not going to do that again,” he asserted, the muscles in his jaw ticking, “I will be with you during your next heat, no matter what is going on at the office.”

Lifting a hand, Eva brushed his cheek, his stubble scratching a little. Since they’d come out here, he hadn’t been shaving every day and she found that she liked that he had something more than a five ‘o clock shadow.

“I’m going to need verbal agreement on this, Eva.”

“Okay,” she replied. “I’ll tell you next time.”

“Good.” He dropped to his elbows, resting a little more of his weight on her, “Now, I told you mine. Its your turn to tell me yours.”

Eva’s face went red hot, heat soaking every pore. Her eyes slid to the side as she contemplated how much information she was going to give him about a heat that she had only a moment ago admitted that she’d had.

Moving in close, his voice a deep rasp, he ordered, “Dime, amorcita. How did you get through it?”

She sucked in a breath, her body curling into him a little bit. When she tried to rise up to kiss him, he used one hand to hold her down to the mattress, his chin canted down.

Eva’s mind flashed back to that day, her body clenching as she remembered the rush of pleasure, the cramps of pain when she couldn’t assuage the need.

“I slept some, woke up coming. My skin was too sensitive. And, at first, I couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t until I was on the couch,” she stopped, biting her lip.

Her voice was a raspy thing, the words halting. She cleared her throat, squirming beneath his weight.

Horacio ran a soothing hand down her side, “What happened on the couch?”

“I touched myself, I felt like I would die if I didn’t come.”

Eyes full of fire, he asked, “And, did you make yourself come?”

She nodded.

“How many times?”

“Twice.”

With both hands, he pushed up her t-shirt to rest just underneath her breasts, “What happened next?”

Eva’s fingers curled into fists beside her hips, “You called.”

His eyes shot to hers, “And you lied to me.”

“No,” she cried, “I just...avoided the subject.”

Horacio’s nostrils flared in annoyance, “But, you’re not going to do that again.”

“N—no.”

He gave on sharp nod in acknowledgment of her submission, “Good. What happened after that?”

His hands followed a twin path over her sides to her hips to her thighs, all the way to her knees. Wrapping his hands around them, he pulled them up and over his body, pulling the cradle of her hips into alignment so that she could feel him hardening against her core.

“I had to crawl to the bedroom,” she continued, the flush of her arousal mixing with the feeling of embarrassment. “I didn’t make it to the bed before I had to come again.”

Kissing her collarbone, he asked, “Did you use your fingers?”

She nodded, gripping his biceps for purchase as he scraped his teeth along her skin.

“Did you use your fingers the whole time?”

Swallowing, Eva shook her head, knowing where this was going and completely unable to stop it. He’d gotten into a line of questioning, and she knew he’d see it through to the end.

“What did you use?”

She hesitated long enough that he stopped nuzzling her skin and looked up at her, waiting for an answer. When she didn’t say anything, he moved up her body, kissing her cheek sweetly, then her forehead, her chin, her jaw, everywhere but where she wanted him.

“What did you use?” he repeated, his breath fanning over her lips.

Eva struggled to breathe, “I used a toy—to help.”

Thumb rubbing her bottom lip, eyes focused on that sensitized patch of skin, he asked, “A vibrator?”

She shook her head, tongue peeking out to touch the pad of this thumb, “A dildo.”

With a little groan, he kissed her, putting a little pressure on her jaw so that she would open for him. Pulling in a sharp breath, he leaned back, an arm sneaking around her waist to hold her to him.

“Did it help you get what you needed?”

Again, she shook her head, “It helped some, but I was still hurting through most of it.”

His expression hardened just a bit, a barely perceptible glare. Needing to soothe that ire, Eva reached up with both hands and slid her thumbs into the muscle at the base of his skull, kneading. His eyes closed just a little, jaw relaxing.

“Did it,” he cut himself off with a sigh when she ground a knuckle into the tense muscle. He leaned into it, his head tilting to the side, “Did it have a knot?”

“Yes,” she whispered, biting the inside of her cheek when his hips flexed forward, grinding against her.

He kissed her again, a hard press of his lips, “Did you fuck yourself with it, push it inside you?”

Between kisses, she nodded. The memory of the relieving pressure scoring through her, her body arching up into him.

“But it wasn’t enough.”

It was sentence, a declaration, not a question. He knew it, she knew it.

“No,” she warbled, tilting her hips towards him, hands roaming over his strong shoulders and back, pulling him to her to that the wasn’t an inch between them. “I wanted more. Wanted you.”

In a swift motion, he pulled off her t shirt, throwing it over the side of the bed carelessly. His hands found her breasts, pushing them up to his mouth. Long licks, a pinch of skin, teeth scraping. Eva hissed a breath, her body fairly vibrating with pleasure.

“You wanted my knot, didn’t you?” When she didn’t reply, he swatted her thigh lightly, drawing her attention, “Didn’t you?”

Her eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, she made an ‘uh huh’ sound that cracked on the highest pitch. He was hard against her, his hips rocking in a sharp rhythm that, had he been inside her, would have prodded against her cervix. Sweat beaded on her belly and thighs, pooling in the hollow of her throat. He licked at it, drawing her briefly into his mouth.

“You’d let me do it now, wouldn’t you? Let me knot you in this bed.”

The image seared through her, burning away any restraint she might have had—which was, admittedly, not much to begin with. Feet on the sheets, she used any leverage she could get to put more friction on her cunt, each roll of her hips more frenzied than the last.

“Yes, alpha.”

Growling, Horacio pushed his face into the bend of her neck, hands slipping underneath her and to her shoulders where he held her steady. Mouth opening, he ran his teeth over the long line from shoulder to jaw before settling on the scent gland he’d marked. Though the bruising had healed, Eva could still see the faint scratch across it where his teeth had dug in. He sucked on it hard, sure enough to leave yet another bruise.

Eva wailed, a broken, sobbing thing, as she came. Nails digging into his back, she bowed up tight. Distantly, she could heard him praising her, his voice rough. He let her rut against him until her body eased down from the orgasm, and then he was pushing his briefs down and grasping himself, roughly stroking.

She took in the sight of him, chin down, breathing hard, working to get off. It stunned her how badly she wanted to memorize this moment, and how badly she wanted to seem him come. Both hands caressing downwards, she hooked the fingers of one hand into her panties, pulling them to the side. With two fingers of the other, she slotted them into her folds, opening them up to give him an unobstructed view of how wet he’d made her.

He choked on a gasp, groaning as his fist sped up. It only took a few pumps before he was spilling across her stomach, his head hanging low in relief. When he was spent, he collapsed to his side, trying to catch his breath.

Eva giggled, feeling more than a little lightheaded. He glanced at her, his mouth spreading wide in a smile. He picked up her hand from where it lay at her side, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist and holding it to his chest. She could feel his heart beat beneath his skin, a steadily slowing rhythm.

When he’d calmed a little, he rose and went to the bathroom, bringing a wet cloth to wipe her down. Moving around the room, he closed the windows, locking them tight, before doing the same with the door. After turning off the lights, he eased into the bed and gathered her to his chest. Eva held his arm to her body, threading her fingers in his.

#narcos #horacio carrillo #carrillo #A Need So Great

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popcorn-hero · 5 years ago

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The Tales of the Todorokis

Acknowledging character development and writing character development is not and making excuses for ones crimes.

Disclaimer: I read, I interpret, I express. This is a long post filled with images. Also probably some horrible grammar

Apologizing: Apologizing is acknowledging ones faults and vowing to never commit the same mistakes. What has happened has happened. Nothing can change the past or the effect it had. What you do now, does not change or erase the past, but it helps guide a path of healing for the future. It can be the start of change and morphing into a better person. BUT, only if that person truly means it.

Apologies is not making an excuse for yourself.

Forgiveness: Forgiveness can be rightfully given, or not. It can be a tricky thing to understand at times. Forgiveness doesn’t remove the pain. Forgiveness doesn’t erase the memories. But for some people, forgiveness is a key to freedom, for inner peace. For other people, forgiveness doesn’t offer them that, and that's fine too.

We are not monoliths, we are individual people, with individual brains, with individual emotions, with experiences that affects us as individuals. Our stories might overlap - they might even be identical, but how we process it may not be.

I don’t like this narrative I’ve been seeing recently in the fandom of Horikoshi being an abuse apologist. I think Horikoshi is challenging us and its working.

The Tales of the Todoroki’s: Enji, Rei, Touya, Fuyumi, Natsuo, Shoto

6 people

6 perspectives

6 stories

1 truth

Each viewpoint and each experience from everyone is very important in putting the pieces together (yes, even Enji). In fact, I think it was important to have Enjis viewpoint to the situation because it was such a contrast to what we’ve heard and seen from everyone else. In Enjis mind, he truly thought everyone was complaisant. He saw nothing wrong with attempting to live vicariously through his kids. In the same breath he expresses contempt for this children, its also laced with disappointment

He speaks of Rei as though she was consensual, but we know he essentially used her a valuable Mare and hurt her as well.

His treatment of Rei cannot be erased, justified, or forgotten. It happened. We as the audience are suppose to carry that in our minds because we are reading a story about Heroes. This challenges us to understand that heroic actions is not what a hero makes.

There are cops who (most of them tbh) that become cops simply for the power dynamic, not because they desire to protect. A lot of cops abuse their spouse.

Rei: We are only introduced to her through the lowest point of her life and we have no insight on how Enji acquired her (yeah that sound harsh, but isn’t that what happened) nor her domestic life with him. What we know of her are scenes of her pain, and I think thats relevant enough. She may have had some “good” moments out of her situation, but she was still a mouse trapped in a lions den. Good days do not erase her state. Thats why this panel, was so odd to me

Because it implies that Rei was complicit in having kids even though we as the audience understand that he basically brought her for that single purpose. Now note, this is coming from Enjs mouth, not hers so I can’t sit her be like “oh yeah she was fine with everything”

To me, this is simply Enjis projection because what was Rei honestly going to do? Say no? But who’s to say that she didn’t want Touya to be lonely? Idk, that panel was too wishy washy for me.

Moving on

She replies to Natsuo by saying that's not true

Its not in his defense like how Natsuo claimed. Rei never states that she forgives him, and we can see she is still on her journey of healing when she mentions shes still a bit scared of him. However, she acknowledges his acts as stepping stone for his own path of atonement.

If she does come to forgive him later in the story, thats her decision (Horikoshi actually lol). If she doesn’t, that her decision.

Natsuo:

The only insight from Natsuo is his resentment towards his father with what happened to Touya and the hurt of their mother. It is revealed later that Natsuo was Touya confidant in the house (I’ll get into that when I talk about Touya).

But He doesn’t forgive him....or hes not at that stage yet

When endeavor saves him from the villain, we are able to see Natsuos raw thoughts:

He’s conflicted: He wants to maintain the peace, but he can’t deny how he feels.

Natsuo felt like he had to compromise his feelings, and that shouldn’t be fair. Even thought he is the middle child, I feel like he took on the presence of the big brother and wanted to protect his siblings. But when you have a man like Enji as your father and you know how he is.....standing up to him as a child is terrifying

So when Enji says this

I’m like: DUH! Of course he would feel like that

But I’m taking this scene has Enji recognizing how he made Natsuo feel as a child which showcases. he owns up to the fact that he pushed Touya to the edge.

Yet with all that said, hes not suppose to forget. Hes not suppose to suppress how he feels. And even at his age, that child inside him still hurt and was never offered a chance to properly heal. I know what that feels like.

Natsuo must figure out what he needs to do to find peace - however that may be.

Fuyumi :

We don’t have much insight to Fuyumi and I’m sure her experience is completely different from her brothers. One, because she was a girl and Enji is misogynistic, I doubt he gave her any type of attention as a father figure especially since she only inherited her moms quirk. I don’t recall signs of physically abuse on Fuyumi and (Natsuo), but there probably was demeaning behavior at some point. Just being in that environment and seeing their sibling subjected to that, negatively impact her however

But with Fuyumi, she is trying to move on

I think Fuyumi is on her path of forgiving her father - thats her choice to make to find peace for her experience. After expressing her desire to move on as a family, she ask Shoto how he feels....

Oh my sweet prince Shoto:

Shoto has a lot of baggage and being one of the main protagonist, we get a more in depth experience on his relationship with is father. I’m not going to go into too much detail because we all know he detested his father. I’m mainly going to focus on this middle ground that I find him at.

In the panels above he mentions having grudges and how it clouds the mind. Thats a toxic feeling to carry with you, especially when you’re trying to be a hero. He recognized that, and he’s been working on fixing that. Even his mother had to forgive herself towards what she did to him.

Shoto is not here to forgive Enji, hes here to forgive himself

What I mean by that is the fact that Shoto experienced self-hate. He hated a part of who was, how he looked, where he came from. He had no control of his childhood, but he now has control of his future. At the sports festival, that was Shotos first step towards finding his healing. It wasn’t about Enji apologizing to him. It was about him.

And now look at him, he’s more social, more expressive, more powerful once he began to love himself. He got there on his own and with the support of his friends.

It doesn’t change what happened to him, and it doesn’t erase his feelings However, it gave him control over himself.

This is almost the same position Natsuo is in. He hasn’t seen anything (yet) for himself that warrants him to forgive his father. Maybe we will see it in these later chapters... maybe we wont.

Thats his decision

And last: Touya

Touya, touya, touya touya......

I honestly don’t know how to tackle his situation, but shoot me

From this memory (by Enji), Touya appears...enthusiastic. He appeared that he wanted to train with his father.

And I think this is where things went wrong in his rearing. He was GROOMED .

Enji, being who he was, probably placed the ideas in Touya head of great success, importance, power, fame, ect. These things sound good to a child, and being the only child at the time, he had all his fathers attention. But as he got older and his quirk became incompatible, things started change.

Even before his quirk no longer became compatible for him, Enji still didn't see Touya as his ideal child, but he accepted it. Touya looks to be about 6 here meaning Shoto wasnt born yet or an infant.

Going by the ages given for Shoto, Fuyumi, and Natsuo I’m going to state that

Touya was 13 when he staged his death

Fuyumi was 11, Natsuo was 8, and Shoto was 5 and thats when we are introduced into in abuse.

So there is a 8 year window between Touya shift in his relationship with his father and the start of Shoto gaining his quirk.

That is a missing puzzle piece, and I can only speculate what happened in that time period to drive Touya to his mental breaking point and what his father did or, didn’t do for him.

Here, there is more white in his hair and he looks to be maybe 10? And this is when he starts to question his existence.

I can’t say all that Touya went through from the time Shoto was born to his faked death.

I think Touya suffered from feeling abandoned by his father father, the feelings of being a failure because of these ideals of greatness only to be sideline. That he was just a placeholder like the rest of his sibling and not worthy to work along his fathers side.

I don’t think he faced the same treatment from his father as Shoto did. I think he became blinded by approval and pushed himself to his limits to compete for Enji attention, He probably developed depression, anxiety, and a lot stressors as he became more and more incompatible with his quirk

And I think thats why there is the hate for Shoto because he feels like he took away his purpose ( which has nothing to do with Shoto but everything to do with Enjis grooming)

We know Touya is absolutely not on the scale of ever forgiving his father for what he did. For him to sit there and watch his father on TV and proclaim to be a hero when he knew what went on behind closed doors, it can drive him towards wanting to retaliate.

His story showcases damages of a broken child. Where Shouto found liberation, Touya remained bound to the ambers Enji left on his worth and lies on being a hero.

Not everything can be fixed, and once a crack forms, it will continue to spread until it shatters.

In conclusion

The Tale of The Todorokis is not to serve as excusing abuse. Its a showcase of how 1 man can affect the lives of many people in different ways. It is a tale of moving forward, finding peace, and gaining control over your own person.

Enji knows he can’t snap his figures and all will be well. Though I think some actions he could have done was to take it upon himself to address the country, come clean, and maybe retire as a hero, but he’s not a perfect character.

But I’ll take what I can get. Enji knows his place, he knows what he has done.

Happiness to his family is absence

Its there space

And there nothing more better he can do than that.

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tipsydipsydo · 5 years ago

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Request: "Can I get an imagine with dom male reader x taekook, where the reader had a bad day and the boys cheer him up with fluff or some smut, thank you!"

Requested by: anonymous

Pairing: Sub! Taekook x Dom! Reader

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: 2k

Genre: Fluff (Idk? xD) and some Mentions of Smut at the End

Warnings: not really buuut the reader has a bad day and some anger outbursts; Swearing; a bit smutty content at the end; soft Dom-/Sub-Themes; sub! Taekook; Dirty Language; Dirty Talk

A/N: first Reader x Member Pairing request uhhhh~ 🥳

...and to the dear anon who requested this, I hope you'll be able to find this here! 😅💜

Links:

My Masterlist for your requests!

My official Blog Navigation

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Taehyung sighs and looks on the display of his smartphone for the sixth time in the last five minutes. Still no message from you, even though it's already 11:28 a.m. and the meeting should have started at 9:00 a.m.

Actually, this one today should only be clarifying the last questions and then the final contract should be signed, right? And that can't last more than two and a half hours when you had the deal with the potential investor already at the last meeting (more or less).

The company you work wanted to expand and enter a new part of industry, so they were looking for a possible investor. And your boss chose you to take over and lead the subsequent negotiations with the agency of the Investment Group!

This is an extraordinary compliment for you that your boss recognizes and appreciates your skills. He also said that, depending on how well you present the company to investors and able to manage and coordinate the whole process, you also have chances of being transferred to a higher position!

So you did everything, really everything, to convince the investors and to arrange the deal. You don't want that you've sat in the office late into the night and worked countless overtime hours for nothing, especially when there is a possibility of getting into a more attractive position and thus also better payment.

It looks like your efforts are paying off. Already at the first meeting, where you presented the company and the idea for the expansion, the investors were very interested and said at the end of the meeting that they would be very happy about a subsequent meeting.

In the weeks that followed, further meetings took place and hypothetical, but nevertheless very concrete planning approaches started then. The last meetings felt like the deal was already finalized and they're already discussing how the plan was actually implemented.

The boys were be happy for you and every time you had another successful meeting-day behind you, it proved, that the night shifts in the office seems to pay off.

They confirmed to you that the deal is almost completed and all you need now is just the investors' signatures on the formalities.

Well, that's what you want to get today.

Despite all the optimism, Jungkook and Tae are getting more and more worried about it because you still haven't told them about the good news (they can't be any other way)!

After all, signing contracts doesn't take three hours?? Then finally, at 11:47 a.m. comes the redeeming "Ping!" simultaneously from your two boyfriends smartphones.

Kookie and Tae make a competition out of 'who can unlock his phone faster and with it, congratulate you for the successful deal'. Kookie is the first one who enters your shared group chat. But his smile disappears as he reads your short message. It may be short, but Jungkook has to read it several times to really understand the meaning behind it.

You [11:47 a.m.]: The deal is off.

"W-What ... What the-", comes over Jungkook's lips. In this moment, Tae is faster than Jungkook and he’s the one who respond to your message first.

Tae♡ [11:48 a.m.]: What?? Why?! How they could choose against the deal?! I mean, you said the deal is as good as made and they were insterested right at the beginning?

You [11:49 a.m.]: Fuck, I don't know it?! They just said, "there are some logistical problems and expectation differences betweem their comany and ours" and "that we couldn't solve them together even after new discussions and compromises". That's why they said the deal is off and simply dropped us. I can't believe it, everything went so good until now, WHY the fuck they decided against us?!?!

You [11:49 a.m.]: They said there would be some 'expectional disagreements' ...did they mean that the financials? That the certain sum of money they've to invest into our new project is too high? But then there are always possibilities for discussions and new compromises?! God, that fucks me so up! I want to know what their goddamn problem is!

You're sitting in the company's cafeteria and are trying to calm yourself down before the lunch break will ends. So that you can return to your work desk with a more or less cleared mind and somehow are able to survive the afternoon.

You thought, after the incompleted deal and your chance to get promoted was wasted, your day couldn't actually get any worse.

Well yeah, it's possible.

You know that when David turns around the corner and looks at you with a big spiteful smirk, apparently he has already heard about the news. This asshole is not even trying to hide his satisfaction about your dropped deal.

Of course, like every damn time you have to meet him in the building, he has to leave his very personal comment on it. You don't know why you were punished for having to work with him in the fucking same department?!

"Hm? I heard that the meeting didn't went so well, after all the investors jumped off. But it was already foreseeable that it won't work anyway. I don't understand why Mr. O'Brien chose you of all people for the Management of the investment-coordination for this project.", just when you hear these first words, the anger in you starts to grow in lightning speed.

"I mean, let's be honest and that's what I'm gonna say is not meant to be rude, I just want to give you a little helpful tip. I assume that everyone in our Department will agree with the fact that you still have to work on your presence. If you want to get an investor interested in a project so that they're willing to provide financial resources, then you have to sell the deal with ambition, self-assurance and self-confidence. Investors need to know what your concrete plan is, that you're standing 100% behind that project and that it'll be profitable for everyone!"

"I think you lack a little bit of dominance and assertiveness, you should work on that urgently. Yeah, you can be submissive in your own bedroom when it's that what you like, but in the tough economic world you have to be able to assert yourself. That's just a tip from me. Despite the disaster, have still a nice day~", he said in a mocking tone, patting you on the shoulder and then going whistling to the food display of the cafeteria.

You need a moment to realize what exactly this bastard shamelessly said into your face. He doesn't know that you're the Dom in the relationship, he just wanted to put a little more salt in the open wound of your injured pride. And that hit a dangerously sore point. How dare this bastard to say that you're the submissive part in the bedroom?!

You're about to go after him and become verbally abusive, you won't let yourself be offered such a talking shit! But you know it better, you would only make things worse if you stand out negatively now through emotionality. You already know that this action would only confirm David in his opinion about you. When you behave unprofessionally now, everyone could think that you are unable to deal with defeats. So you try to swallow your anger and frustration as best you can down and just ignore David for the rest of the day. Even when you really want to punch him into the face.

However, to give the anger at least some space, you complain frustrated to your two darlings about everything. They listen to you patiently and rebuild the image about yourself again. But also plead to you, to please don't do any crap mindlessly, led by emotions.

You're really glad when you can finally finish work and end this catastrophic day.

When you open the door, the pleasant warmth of the apartment welcomes you and a delicious, all too familiar smell rises in your nose.

These two things alone make you feel as if something heavy has been removed from your shoulders. You take a deep breath and really feel how you return to your inner peace.

You are at home, nobody can strain your nerves anymore, only your two beloved boyfriends are waiting for you.

It seems like they've prepared something for you, so that at least the evening of today will be better than everything else before. Jungkook is at the stove and is cooking your favorite dish. You wrap your arms from behind around him and give him a gentle kiss in the crook of your neck, letting his scent soothe you. When you also feel the warmth of Taehyung on your back, everything is suddenly not as bad as you first thought.

The boys bought your favorite wine for your favorite dish, which makes the dinner perfect. It looks like Taehyung is about to get up to get the dessert or so, when he stops and looks at you with a nervous but excited smile. On Jungkook's cheeks, you can see a hint of a blush too. You raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"W-Well... when you texed us that you don't know if you can control yourself around David, to not punching him right into the face... Jungkook and I thought there are other and much better ways to reduce stress and anger... We... well... before you came home, Kookie and I p-prepared each other for you... and right now... we're both wearing your favorite plugs. We thought you'd rather pounding your anger and frustration in us than having problems at work. So... please use us as your stress reliever.", said Taehyung, biting his lower lip, looking at me in a kinda... begging manner? Hmm, seems like there is someone who wants to be fucked hard and rough~

"S-Sir, please dominate me. Own me. Make me to your whining and begging sub...", Jungkook whispers with dark red cheeks. You see the lust and excitement in his dark, dilated pupils, to get used and to take your anger and frustration without any complain.

God, your boys are just perfect. They know exactly how to behave in order to make their master proud.

"It's really the case that you want to be used ad my stress reliever, completely selflessly? Even when I think that this 'reason' just came up to you perfectly, so that you didn't have to beg to get fucked hard and without any mercy again. Hmm, am I right?"

The way Taehyung and Jungkook are blushing and stuttering furiously confirms your guess.

"Such needy horny Boys I have here. Tz tz tz... Come, let's see what I should do to my Babies when they're so greedy for my cock and a rough fuck...", you chuckle devilishly when you go with them to your shared bedroom.

The next day.

You [09:12]: Hey Darlings~ I have really great news! I got my promotion despite of the unfinished deal! My boss was very pleased with the huge amout of work I put in this project and he assured me, that it wasn't because of my negotiation strategy that the investors dropped the deal. There seem to be some internal problems in the Investment Group at the moment, which is why they can no longer support projects at the moment. And guess what I've been promoted to... I've become department head and that means I'm now David's boss! I think now we both can discuss who has to work on his assertiveness ... 😏😈

You [09:15 a.m.]: And I hope you're okay and your precious asses are not too sore~ love you ❤

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redantsunderneath · 4 years ago

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VAL and BILLIE EILISH: THE WORLD'S A LITTLE BLURRY

I shouldn’t be allowed to watch documentaries. All that any documentary seems to be about (at this point, to me) is the relationship between itself and the truth. I don’t know if it’s 2000's reality TV or that one time I watched Capturing the Friedman’s and Waco: The Rules of Engagement back to back that broke me, but what interests me isn’t the subject matter but standpoint epistemology of the thing. These two docs are very different, diametrically opposed in almost every way, but both are defined by the ways in which the text struggles against reality. Val is about an old man who used cameras (himself) to capture his entire life as he pretended to be someone else on film. He is infirm, occluding his laryngotomy tube to talk, and his handlers try to manage his naps around meet and greets where he sells the shell of the person he once was for the fans who still care. It’s forbears are archeological dead celebrity docs that try to find the elusive star at the center (Robin Williams, Heath Ledger, Amy Winehouse) and those about reclaiming memory (Alzheimer Project, Waltz with Bashir) but it’s just… he’s the cameraman and he’s still shuffling around. Closest comparison (minus the age part) is probably Kid 90, which was being cut at the same time. This doesn’t get at how weird this is, though. He used to make movies with his brother, who drowned during a seizure and haunts the movie (he would put up his brother’s drawings in shots on film sets, the talks about or around the event constantly). He often hands off the camera to people so he can be seen in his world with complex instructions (when I walk off, focus in on that speaker so when I go onstage you will hear my first line) and when the camera hits a mirror he lingers (as in the video of his newborn baby). He seems to always be performing, an aspect of life we are all familiar with by now but less common when this footage was taken. His wife is uncomfortable on camera, usually mugging or hiding, and you get the feeling the distancing from his life is intentional as he focuses on internal transformation away from ego resolution, but he still needs to be seen, his sense of self tied up in an object permanence issue. The movie is structured as someone trying to sort through memories of their life and come to terms with them, although the memories in this case is a small warehouse full of video tapes and film canisters. In his current life he can only communicate with difficulty and tries to convey reaction with meaningful-but-of-what glances and gestures. Effacement by time and looming death drench the whole enterprise - when his brother dies he says his father “lost his charisma” (just contemplate that). His current simulacra of celebrity makes him feel like a ghost, signing “you can be my wingman anytime” multiple times for people who this means something to. So he brings up the footage and tries to reconstruct his life (his credit as cinematographer is both funny, touching, and chilling). This thing is full of interesting moments. He is doing a line reading of Hamlet at Juilliard and Peter Kass stops him to ask where the performance is coming from. He responds that he has never considered killing himself which causes Kass to explode, insisting that no-one in the history of the world has not had that thought. This seems to rob us and him of a potentially revelatory moment as Kilmer seems different, spiritual in an unusual way… maybe the reason why he never thought of that was more interesting than that point. His entreaty to Marlon Brando to tell him what his earliest childhood memory is is responded to by Brando asking for him to rock his hammock with repetition of the question only yielding feedback on the rocking until neonatal-fat Brando’s satisfaction at being rocked seems like an answer. The argument with John Frankenheimer who does not want to be filmed is something else. The major things going on are here are being haunted vs feeling like a ghost and an arrested Lacanian mirror phase that complicates his intersubjective context, with the karmic

self-assessment of who he is trying to chill in the middle. The filmmaking knows this and orients itself as a process of evaluating memory where what is true seems elusive, heavily edited, and hall-of-mirrors-like. The question of what is performance is a subconscious struggle. Conspicuous in their absence are his own feelings on his decline beyond the fact that he “doesn’t believe in death,” real insight into his marriage (and breakup, other than an allusion to his method acting Jim Morrison being a problem) and relationship with his kids (who are around all the time, but seem like Sixth Sense characters), and the fact that he’s a legendary asshole on set. This last is, like, the one thing everyone knows about him. But you can sort of sense this stuff secondarily, right off the edge of the screen and in him relentlessly projecting onto his parents. The real crux is the study of a man who never feels seen, but tries to become so by disappearing into someone else, who needs recording devices so that he can capture himself properly, all controlled performance; someone unaware of his own loneliness brought about by not being very good at making himself available because his “self” is externally resolved and constant inner transformation masks the unformed nature of his ego at rest. The film accomplishes this by allowing him to reveal what is absent by his preoccupations and bearing witness to his deflection mechanisms, so that he is no closer to knowing himself but, by being manipulated in a way we can see the frame of, we kind of get a glimpse. Good experience, wish there was more Christian Scientist material (that seems like an angle of understanding the film wasn’t interested in). Billie Eilish: The World’s a Little Blurry is about a young girl who is followed by cameras capturing her entire life as she pretends to be herself on stage. She has a Simone Biles flavored psycho-physical compromise that everyone tries to “handle” while she sells herself as the person she isn’t to fans who care, at least right now. This is in the tradition of Truth or Dare mimics that seem de rigueur for female pop stars. Closest comparison is Miss Americana. This movie feels made by spreadsheet to contain scenes to develop the official narrative of an in-her-brother’s-room, in her suburban parent’s house, sui generis composite genius who is on the edge of mental unfitness trying to be as normal as she can in this crazy merry go round called fame. The obviousness of the put on is diffused by the relative lameness of the pieces. In some respects this is the typical documentary “look for the cracks for insight” play, but it is consciously using that as a tool too and doing it badly - the manufactured insight escape moments largely ring false. This comes off as a Zoom background era counterfeit, a series of YouTube clips where Markeplier or whoever lets the mask slip a little in the most forced bit of unbiddenness possible. There is a boyfriend who feels like a story mandated version of “from Canada.” But the interesting thing is the way it recapitulates the way modern pop is put together, not by writing, not by spontaneous “feel your way,” but by putting bits of ideas together and trying to emulate form. There are a lot of moments in the film that feel like they could have been real, but the non-actors were asked to do another take and can’t quite nail it. It actually has such a boner for produced casual that it is pretty much allergic to authenticity, which is quite a thing for a documentary. The major things going on are here are grappling with whether she brings anything musically to the table (the brother seems like the musical force, she’s afraid her voice is bad, they make a point to show her idea notebooks as work product), her wish to only perform if she can give the fans her best show (possibly her version of just wanting to call in sick, understandable) is at odds with her being the center of a machine that has to move, her as a product of a not entirely with it older parents who gave their kids an open creative runway

and now are instrumental in managing her as a resource that is tricky to work with, the work being her and her brother dicking around and making magic happen, and an attempt to paint her as a Beleiber who now is on the the other side of the fan dichotomy. Development of her style, arguably her #1 thing, is sort of left as her telling a video director “I drew this bleeding eye woman, can we do something like this?” and sort of suggesting through letting her point around that she is a de facto co director. At times, it feels like a try at icon forging that someone wanted to fail, but it is probably just the high school conception-to-production level tat ultimately comes off as a larger indictment of making a movie like you make modern pop music - overdetermined manipulation of flimsy elements without a satisfying ethos, that looks too be an insubstantial assemblage of spliced pieces that live of die by their stickiness. But it begins to feel, more and more, that it’s about how non-exciting pop stars can be as people and that a narrative that people respond to can kind of die if you show that’s it’s just work and somewhat normal people trying to be a piece of an illusion. It’s this partitioning away of the hyperreality and an attempt to show the official story acted by the sausage makers trying to pretend the banality is just crazy man. Where Val is a simulation of an habitual performer considering who they actually are selectively sorting their life and failing to confront the loneliness of age and death (more elusive to them than us), this is obvious hoax unintentionally (?) revealing the fabricated nature of the image-music industry by way of demonstrating the strangely normie creatives, green-yellow ombre or no, can’t be arsed to summon a proper freakout (the whining seems authentic, though). Music videos may lie to you, but the official story is strangely correct - kids living in mom’s house cobble together catchy stuff and pull off pop stardom due to social media age production savvy and a little zeitgeisty imagery, it’s just everyone is well adjusted if stressed and someone’s only donning the costume of the online archetype of a specific kind of girl. Val uses the constructed nature of these narratives as a tool wielded in the open to suggest the inner working of a mind failing to be honest with itself while the other is interesting in its transparency and failure to convince us of the loosely conceived fiction, leaving reality apparent as bong resin. Baudrillard would have liked this one more, probably.

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underworldobsessed · 4 years ago

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I Have Loved You for a Thousand Years ll An Obitine Fanfic

Name: I Have Loved You for a Thousand Years Rating: T Ship: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Satine Kryze, Series: ABO Obitine (Part 2 out of ???) Summary: Despite being mated, Obi-Wan and Satine haven't seen each other since that fateful Year on the Run. When Satine sees him again, she thinks that maybe she can have her mate for a little while, but they have been at each others throats. Perhaps, their time as mates was destined to be short lived. Authors Note: Once I started this, I couldn’t stop. These two have consumed my soul and I’ve been in love with this. Honestly, this universe is actually really awesome to dive into and I love it. Read here or under the cut

“The sarcasm of a soldier!”

“The delusions of a dreamer!”

Of all the ways she thought she would reunite with Obi-Wan, this was not it. The man who she marked, her omega… was there in front of her and they were at each other’s throats. They had almost rekindled what they had before until he opened his mouth and basically told her she had no choice but to pick a side and join a war where she intended to keep Mandalore decidedly neutral. Her anger was mildly eased, though not by much, when she saw his eyes drift to where she knew her mating mark was hidden underneath her gown. She didn’t entirely process everything being said, knowing that something was mentioned about waiting until after dinner, making her own remark before pushing her way through to exit the room, her shoulder slamming against Obi-Wan’s as she left.

Emotions, complicated and mixed, swirled within her and almost made her sick. When Obi-Wan had come to investigate Death Watch, she thought that maybe they had a chance to rekindle something… but then he opened his mouth and she remembered that he was not the same man she mated with. He was a general in a war, and probably didn’t even remember what he felt for her.

She knew she had some time until dinner, so maybe until then she could try and settle her stomach so maybe she could at least eat something. She made her way to her room and sat down on her bed, burying her face in her hands. She knew her actions were unbecoming of both a duchess and an alpha, but she couldn’t bring herself to care when she was in the safety of her private quarters.

Tears rolled down her face, all the built up hurt and anguish of growing apart from her mate. She thought that she had gotten over it, that their years-long separation would have dulled her feelings towards him, but looking at him again and spending time with him reminded her of just how much she loved him. Reminded her of why she let him mark her that night during their time on the run. She unzipped a bit of her dress and moved the neckline so she was able to look at the red mark at the joint between her neck and her shoulder. Her fingers moved to brush against it, and she squeezed her eyes shut. It wasn’t right. Why did she have to fall in love and mate with a jetii? Why couldn’t she just move on and be happy being the Duchess of Mandalore?

She felt her stomach lurch and she was barely able to grab the trash can beside her before she gagged. Nothing came up but she still felt so nauseous, so overwhelmed. How in the world would she be able to eat anything at dinner if she could barely keep the drinks she had earlier down? Perhaps nobody would notice if she avoided eating, avoiding doing anything to set off her now tender stomach.

How long she had been sitting on her bed, clutching the bin and praying that she wouldn’t lose her lunch blurred together. She heard the comms go off in her room, alerting her that dinner was ready to be served. Her stomach rolled but she stood, letting them know she’d be there in a moment. Her dress was zipped back up, becoming the poised duchess that everyone knew her as. She glanced at herself in the mirror, seeing that her face was pale and her eyes were slightly red rimmed, but she could play it off. Stress from the attacks by Death Watch and the betrayal by House Viszla could easily explain all of it. She just had to play it off as best she could.

“Some other time then…”

Satine cursed Obi-Wan’s former padawan’s timing in everything as she stepped away, Obi-Wan’s words ringing in her ears. Maybe they could have a decent conversation about where they stood but it just wasn’t destined to happen. She made her way back to her bedchamber and settled down again. She slowly removed the remainder of her headdress and ran her hands through her hair. She would have to compose herself before they landed on Coruscant but she could allow herself just a moment or two.

She wasn’t going to cry at least at this point. She was far more composed than she was before, but that did nothing to stop the war that was waging in her heart. What was she supposed to do? She had thought that maybe since they hadn’t seen each other in a long time that she could move on, but hearing him tell her that he would have left the Jedi Order for her sent the alpha in her reeling.

Tell him to stay, omega belongs at our side.

She shook her head, trying to silence the words of her inner Alpha as she had done so many times before. That part of her wanted her to use an Alpha Command to make sure Obi-Wan never left her side, but no, she wouldn’t. If Obi were to be by her side, she wanted him to make the conscious decision to. She wouldn’t force his hand. That wasn’t who she was and she knew that he would resent her if she did.

A knock on her door startled her out of her thoughts. “You can enter.” She felt relieved that her voice didn’t betray her warring thoughts. And of course, who was to enter the room but the man who was at the center of it.

“I noticed you weren’t eating anything at dinner, Satine, and I brought you a little something from the kitchen. You need to eat something small.” Obi-Wan smiled and set two plates on the desk. She was going to refute him and say she wasn’t hungry, but her stomach growled, her appetite returning full force. He gave her a smirk as she reached and grabbed at the plate, starting to eat. Around him, her walls fell and she ate with little decorum. He had seen her at her worst, so why did she have to keep up the facade. He started to eat from the other plate, a lot more composed than she felt. “I knew you’d be hungry.”

“Oh?” She swallowed the piece of bread in her mouth and arched an eyebrow. “And how, pray tell, did you know?”

“You went through a great ordeal like that and hadn’t eaten since before the Coronet departed. Anxiety and adrenaline kept you from feeling it before, but now that you’re calming down, I knew you’d want to eat something. You were the same when we were on the run.” She felt herself flush at his memories of her. He was saying so much, and yet not the words she necessarily wanted to hear…

“We should talk, Obi.” She said as she set her plate aside, feeling satiated for the time being. This would allow her to focus on the conversation at hand. “About what you said before, about how you were willing to leave the Jedi order for me.”

He was quiet, and she was certain that he was going to leave, but he didn’t. “I meant every word, Satine. Had you asked, I would have stayed in a heartbeat. Being separated from you… from what is essentially my other half, was torture. You would come to mind so frequently, and I’d be tempted to reach out to you, but then I got Anakin as a padawan, and the war was going on… I knew that I couldn’t do anything.” His fingers moved and rested at the spot where his mating mark resided. “The Jedi Code forbids attachments, but I cannot deny any more that I am not attached to you. You are my alpha, the other half of my being, and with your permission, Duchess, perhaps we can try something that goes against the code but not against our very natures.”

She tried to not get her hopes up, but she could feel her heart begin to swell. She would never ask him to leave the order, but she wanted him with her. She was tired of denying her feelings and could tell that he was too. Perhaps a compromise is in order.

“What do you have in mind, Ben?”

“I will still be a Jedi, I owe it to my troops and to Anakin and Ahsoka, but on my off time I will do my best to come visit you. I will stop by as much as I can while still partaking in my Jedi duties and as soon as the war is over, I will leave the order and take my place at your side.”

“You’re forsaking your beloved Jedi Code for me?” Satine was in complete shock, unsure how to respond. She had never thought that Obi-Wan would ever do that. He was the model Jedi in all shape and form, and she thought that he was never going to be hers, not fully.

“For us, Satine.” His head ducked for a moment, and she realized he was waiting on her approval. Much like her, he would never do anything that would push her too far. “And I’m not forsaking it. I’m just… bending the rules much like I know my wayward former padawan is doing.”

Her next words left her mouth before she really could have realized it. “My dear Obi-Wan, I have waited what feels like thousands of years for you to tell me this, and I don’t think I could wait any longer. I love you, Obi, and I would like that very much.”

#Obitine #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Satine Kryze #Jen Writes

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echo-bleu · 5 years ago

Text

map out a world

I fell in love with Alec and my brain had decided that he's autistic by 1x02, and this is the result. It's basically just 6.7k of Alec finding his inner autistic and Magnus being supportive. Huge thanks to @moonlight-breeze-44 for checking it over and being amazingly supportive.

CWs: there's more than a bit of internalized ableism on Alec's part in this, and some self-injurious stims.

By now, Alec is fairly sure Magnus is trying to tell him something.

It's all about the books. It was sweet to discover, early on in their relationship, that Magnus absolutely loves reading Mundane fiction. It's partly because there's no such thing as Shadow World fiction, Alec knows. There are books of history, of legends and tales, but no modern fiction. Shadowhunters are too busy raising soldiers to care for anything cultural that isn't related to being obsessed over their heritage, and most Downworlders are either integrated enough into mundane society to adopt most of their culture, or not human enough to care for something as simple as books.

Magnus also grew up at a time were books were exceedingly rare and entirely out of his reach − he didn’t learn to read before he was over fifty years old − so discovering the imaginary worlds of the Mundanes was all the sweetest to him. He has a habit of opening the door of almost every bookshop he passes by, just to look and smell the books, and almost always comes out with a couple of new novels. He also reads at lightning speed, so he often immediately donates the books he doesn't want to keep to the closest refugee charity.

Alec loves learning about his quirks, and he's followed Magnus into more than one unassuming bookshop around the world during their dates. For some reason, Magnus especially loves crime books and the soapiest romances. But it's not something that they share.

Walking into the loft, Alec eyes the new pile of books on the coffee table, that he knows for a fact wasn’t there this morning when he left for work. He kicks off his shoes and drops beside Magnus on the couch, just shy of touching him. Magnus looks up from his paperback and extends an inviting arm, so Alec ducks under it to rest against his side.

Magnus knows to squeeze him just tight enough, making Alec sigh softly. The sun is barely rising, and it's been a long night at the Institute. Alec is glad to be home, finally. “What are you reading?” he asks when he feels steady enough to speak.

Magnus wordlessly shows him the cover. Neurotribes, Alec reads. The legacy of autism− that's not Magnus' usual reading material. It's been happening more and more, lately, Magnus switching from terrible romances to non-fiction. He started with LGBT history books, a few months ago. Pride flags started to make random appearances around the loft, and there's now a whole shelf of books, most of them rainbow-colored in some way, behind Magnus' desk. He told Alec about the parts of that history that he lived, and the ones that no book ever talked about, the lovers he had that would never be remembered, the people who'd fought for their rights from the shadows.

Then he switched to books about therapy. About trauma, PTSD, child abuse. Alec frowned at that, but he figures that Magnus has plenty of bad childhood memories. He still thinks about how rattled Magnus was, that time the agony rune brought his mother's death back up. If books can help him process that, then good for him, right?

This is new. There are half a dozen new books beside Magnus' glass, and they’re all about autism. It doesn't seem like something Magnus would research for himself−or is it? No. “Why?” Alec asks.

Magnus shrugs. “It's enlightening,” he says.

“Autism?”

“I think it could explain some things. And these ideas, about neurology being as diverse as sexuality, or skin color? I like it.”

Alec nods at the second part − it does seem like an interesting concept. Maybe he'll ask about it more, when he's not so tired. “Explain what?” he still asks.

“You should try reading them.”

“Magnus, I don't−”

Magnus stops him by squeezing his shoulder tighter. “I know. It's fine. I'll just keep reading, and share thoughts, maybe.”

“Okay,” Alex says softly. He still doesn't get it, but if it's something Magnus is interested in, then he's willing to listen. Always. He puts his hand over Magnus' on his shoulder, running his fingers over the warm silver rings.

Like a great many of their hobbies, it isn’t something they share. Alec doesn't read for fun. He reads action reports and Clave memos and equipment order forms, but he doesn't read books. It's not something he enjoys.

Or maybe that's not true, not exactly. He used to love reading, as a child in Idris. He'd get his hands on every history book he could find, heavy volumes bound in dusty leather, and devour his way through them. That is, until Jace came along.

Jace who didn't like books. He and Izzy got right along, wanting nothing more than to spar in the training room or run outside every chance they got. Alec knows now that it's not true, that Jace enjoyed reading before Valentine made even that into a lesson, a punishment, but back then he turned it on Alec, mocking him cruelly in the way only a child can every time he caught him with his nose inside a book. Alec never cared too much about the other children's taunts, but from Jace, who was better than him at everything, including at pleasing Alec's parents, it was different. So he stopped. He started following Jace and Izzy everywhere they went, and in the little time he had free, he perfected the one thing that was still his own: archery.

He hasn't read a book cover to cover since he was eleven. Magnus tried to get him to read at bedtime, but he'll just pull up work papers. Fiction is an escape he doesn't need (doesn't deserve).

“Are you tired?” Magnus asks when Alex sighs softly at where his thoughts are going.

“A little,” Alec admits.

“How about you go rest for a bit while I get breakfast ready?”

Alec nods. As much as he'd love to stay in Magnus' arms, he's been interacting with people all night, and more than just his siblings, now that he has to coordinate all the Shadowhunter teams going out. He probably needs some time to sort himself out.

Magnus initiates the move his brain is struggling with, hoisting them both up off the couch. He gives Alec one last squeeze − his hold lower on Alec's back, now that they're standing, and it gives Alec goose bumps − and wanders off toward the kitchen, his book abandoned on the couch. Alec shakes himself and makes his way to their bedroom. Without letting himself think too much about it, he grabs the first book of the pile on the coffee table as he goes.

He stays immobile in front of the bed for a full minute, trying to decide if he can curl up under the blanket even though he's still dressed. Undressing doesn't seem worth it. He compromises by only removing his pants, since his jacket is already off, and keeping his shirt on. He takes his stele out of his pocket before getting into bed and keeps it in his hand, mindlessly running his fingers up and down the textured metal handle. He sets the paperback by his head and stares at it, thinking.

He's not always good at reading between the lines, but he's not obtuse, either. He's seen the pattern. Magnus' reading choices and his gentle encouragements to look at the books have coincided directly, and a part of Alec knows that Magnus wasn't looking up PTSD in child soldiers for himself, however much he doesn't want to acknowledge it. It's him reaching out, trying to understand, even though Alec doesn't believe it's quite the right way of going at it.

He's not traumatized. Sure, he was raised a soldier, but Mundane categories don't apply. Mundanes are more fragile, aren't they? They don't heal as easily as Shadowhunters, even physically. Beside, Jace had it so much worse than Alec growing up, and he's fine. Mostly.

This new phase, though, it's more of a surprise. Sure, they've acknowledged, together, that neither of them is quite normal. Their queerness took a back seat, in Downworlder and Shadowhunter eyes alike, to the mixed nature of their couple, but they stand out like a sore thumb everywhere they go, even in the Mundane world. Magnus stands out largely by choice, by his fashion choices, but Alec has come to realize that those are an armor as much as they're a statement. He envies Magnus, sometimes, for how easy it is to him to reject the norm, to refuse to conform.

Alec stands out by default. It's just who he is, the one who never quite fits. His size makes him visible when he wishes he could disappear into the background, and his constant awkwardness attracts attention he doesn't want. He's tried so hard to obey all the rules, to be perfect, the son his parents tried to mold him into, the brother his siblings could be proud of, but he failed, again and again. Something in him is just...not right.

Broken.

Different, not broken, the book's subtitle jumps out at him, on the spine. Alec almost rolls his eyes at the truism. Yes, sure, different. Different enough that he can never be what's expected of him, that it interferes with his duty. Dating Magnus is one thing, a violation of the norm he will allow himself, because he can see that the norm is the one that's wrong there. Downworlders aren't less than Shadowhunters, so why should their relationship be frowned upon? And Alec knows plenty of queer people, by now. He knows they're not broken. Magnus' beautiful soul certainly isn't broken.

But Alec is. Not because he’s gay, but because he’s a b normal.

“Alexander?”

Alec starts at the noise and recoils, just a little. Magnus is standing close, though Alec hasn't heard him approach. The concern in his eyes tells Alec that it's not the first time Magnus has called his name. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“Breakfast can wait, if you'd rather sleep.”

“No, I'm coming.” Alec doesn't think he can sleep, now that his mind has slid down this path.

He leaves the paperback on his bedside table.

The subject doesn't come up again for another few weeks. The book remains on Alec's nightstand, and he actually finds himself skimming it. Magnus doesn't push once. He leaves the pile of other books on the coffee table, and more join them when he stops at a bookstore on one of their walks, but he doesn't insist on Alec reading them.

But something changes. It's in the little things, barely perceptible unless Alec pays attention. Magnus' behavior toward him changes slightly. He asks for permission before touching him. He seems to recognize when Alec is stuck, and manages to gently steer him into action. He stops himself mid-sentence to reword his questions in a clearer way.

The first time Alec notices, really sees what Magnus is trying to do, he panics. He's pretty sure that isn't at all what Magnus intended when he pulled out a fidget toy and offered it to Alec, for him to lock himself in the bathroom and have a panic attack.

“Darling, please let me in,” Magnus says through the door. He could just use his magic and ignore the lock, but he doesn't. Alec is relieved, confusedly, through the buzzing in his ears, and yet a little disappointed. He clasps his hands over his ears, even though the loft is nearly silent and the noise he's hearing comes from inside.

“Alexander!” Magnus calls again, still softly but with an edge. Alec freezes, his breathing suddenly going from erratic to perfectly controlled, even though the pounding in his ears intensifies. Magnus is angry with him. He should be. By all rights, he should have already broken in, or be long gone.

“Let me in, Alec.” Magnus is not soft anymore, but commanding. The change in address isn't lost on Alec, either. Magnus only drops his habit of using his full name when something's really wrong.

Alec swallows. He picks himself up and takes two steps toward the door. He keeps his face angled away from the brightness of the bathroom window, but he checks his posture before he sticks out his hand to undo the lock. He hurriedly steps back, close to the wall, hands clasped behind his back.

Magnus pushes the door in, taking in the bathroom quickly until he settles on Alec. Alec keeps his eyes trained straight forward, just above Magnus' head.

“Oh, Alexander,” Magnus breathes.

Alec itches to wring his hands, but he's long learned to stay still. He waits, instead. Waits for Magnus to tell him that it's over, that this is too much.

He thought things were going fairly well. Magnus let him be as close to honest as Alec dares to be, these days. Before he knew it, Alec found himself relaxing around him, not bothering to watch his every move. He thought maybe it was because they come from such different cultures. Magnus doesn't know what's expected of a Shadowhunter, just like Alec knows very little about Warlocks, so maybe his eccentricities passed for cultural difference. But he was wrong, wasn't he?

Magnus knows, and he's trying to figure out what's wrong with Alec. That's the reason for the books. He's trying to fix him, and soon enough he's going to realize that there's no fixing this.

Or maybe he already has.

Magnus approaches him slowly, telegraphing his moves.

“I really messed this up, didn't I?” he murmurs.

Alec frowns. This is unexpected. “What?” is the only thing he manages to get past his lips, though. He wants to apologize, to beg maybe, but the words won't even come.

“I only meant to help. I didn't want to scare you.”

“I'm not scared,” Alec replies immediately, almost automatically. He is.

Magnus' hands are open in front of him, in full view, the fidget toy gone. Not that it matters. It's just a catalyst, not the actual problem.

“Tell me what you need,” Magnus offers. His voice is soft again, sad like his eyes. Alec wants to step back, but he's backed himself into the wall. He shakes his head without a word.

“Okay, okay, you don't have to tell me. Do you want space? Do you want me to go?”

Alec should say yes. He should hide far away from Magnus until he's fully in control again and then pretend nothing happened, until the next time he messes up, and the next time, the day Magnus can't deal with him anymore.

He can't.

He shakes his head again, looking away. His left hand is gripping his right so hard at his back that he can barely feel his fingers.

Magnus stays still. “I'm not leaving,” he says. “You can relax. I'm not going to try anything, Alexander.”

Alec hates that he needs this reassurance. He hates acting like this, like a child, like an abnormality, and yet he can't help it. He hates that even the thought of Magnus touching him makes his skin crawl and yet the idea of him leaving makes him want to reach out so bad. The conflict is enough to leave him immobile, incapable of choosing a course of action.

He doesn't know how long it's been, since he bolted into the bathroom. Magnus' face holds infinite patience, and that's why Alec can't look at it.

He knows that by ‘relax’ Magnus means for him to drop the parade stance he still takes without thinking about it, that always puts Magnus on edge. It is a relaxed stance, theoretically − but it's not the same, to someone who wasn't raised a Shadowhunter, is it? Alec forces himself to untangle his hands and let them fall to his sides, but then he doesn't know what to do with them. It feels wrong, to have them hanging there, touching nothing. The sudden blood flow in his fingers hurts.

“I'm sorry,” Magnus says in a low voice, and he sounds unsure, more hesitant than he's been so far. That makes Alec look at him−or at least somewhere on his face, close to the eyebrows.

“For what?” Alec frowns. He's the one who should be apologizing.

“I don't know exactly what I did wrong, but something I did made you panic. I'm sorry.”

Alec shakes his head in frustration. “You−No, you−You know,” he blurts out. “You know I'm...and you want to fix me.”

Magnus freezes. “No, no, Alexander. You've got it backward. Yes, I know you're different. I always knew.”

Alec blinks. “You did?”

“Yes, of course. But I don't want to fix you. I love you the way you are.”

Alec frowns. He tried so hard to be a version of himself that could be loved − he does believe Magnus. It's just that Magnus hasn't seen the ugly parts yet. He will bail, when he does.

Except− I never wanted you to see this terrible, ugly side of me. Maybe Magnus does know. Maybe…

“You are beautiful, Alexander.” Magnus takes a small step closer, still out of reach, but just inside Alec's space. Not intruding. Just...knocking on the door. “Everything about you is beautiful.”

The compliment glides over Alec, not really reaching him, but his own words mirrored back to him do. Magnus briefly drops his glamour, exposing his cat eyes, confirming silently that they're talking about the same thing.

“It's not−it's not the same,” Alec stammers.

“Is it not? You've seen the parts of me that are different, that I am ashamed of, and you looked me in the eyes and told me you loved me even then. Can I not do the same for you?”

Alec closes his eyes. “I'm not−” he starts, but the words aren't right. “Why are you reading all those books, then?” he asks instead. “If it's not to fix me?”

“Because I want to understand,” Magnus explains. He looks around him briefly, at the wall behind Alec, the open door, the sink. Then he seems to make a decision, and he plops down to the floor, crossing his legs under him.

Looking so far down at him, when they're so close, is quickly untenable, so Alec follows suit. He kneels first out of habit, but the position is just uncomfortable on the tiled floor, so he brings one of his legs up to rest his chin on his knee. Magnus gives him a smile.

“We're so different, you and I,” he says slowly. “We have very different life experiences. At first I thought that we'd just bridge that gap slowly as we got to know each other, but−”

“You think we're too different?” Alec hates how weak his voice sounds, how whiny.

“No,” Magnus stops him immediately. “But I...I started to get comfortable around you, and you amazed me every time you showed me that I didn't have anything to be ashamed of. You're incredible, Alexander. You make me feel...loved, even the parts of me that I could never love myself.” His eyes shine, and Alec dares a small grin, losing himself in that glow.

“You deserve all of it,” he murmurs.

“But so do you,” Magnus whispers. “And I realized that even as I lowered all my defenses, you never did.”

“I did,” Alec frowns.

“Yes, I think you did, as much as you can. But never all the way.”

The tiled plinth digs into the small of Alec's back uncomfortably. He leans into it.

“What do you mean?”

“It took me a while to realize that you don't do it consciously. Hide who you are, I mean. It's just your default. The books, they call it 'masking'.”

“I'm not hiding,” Alec frowns. Is he? He's not lying.

Magnus leans in toward him. “You don't let yourself be. You're always controlling how you move and how you speak, so that you look more normal. Aren't you?”

Alec stares for a moment, trying to make sense of the moves Magnus' lips make as his brain struggles to process the words. “I don't−I don't know,” he admits. Is he not supposed to do that? Self-control is the first lesson Shadowhunters learn, and it's deeply ingrained in him.

He looks down at his hand. He's unconsciously stuck it in the fold of his leg, under his knee, and it's now red and bears the mark of his pants' seams. He tucks it behind his back in shame.

“You shouldn't have to do that,” Magnus says softly. “I'm not asking you to change. I just want to understand so I can...meet you in the middle. You go out of your way to accommodate me and my idiosyncracies, all the time. I want to be able to do that for you too.”

Alec stares at him, speechless. Magnus stares back, avoiding his eyes as if he knows direct eye contact makes him uncomfortable. “Will you let me try?”

Magnus tries. Alec tries to let him. It doesn't go particularly smoothly.

Letting go of decades worth of strict conditioning isn't that easy, especially when you're not sure at all that you want to. When maybe it's the only thing holding you together.

If it really is a mask, then who is Alec once it is taken off? How does he own up to the parts of him he doesn't allow to pierce through, even behind closed doors?

Is there anything left of him that wasn't ripped away by training?

He's better off going on like he always has, he decides the third time a casual gesture from Magnus makes him panic. It doesn't send him gasping into a tight corner of the bathroom this time, because fuck, Alec has better control of himself than that. He just freezes in place until Magnus hurriedly backs off. He just thinks about nothing else for the rest of the day.

He just hates himself a little more.

“Alexander,” Magnus says softly that night, as Alec slides into bed with him. Dread pools in Alec’s stomach, a sharp contrast with the softness of the satin sheets around him. He pulls the weighted blanket over himself, even though a part of him want to deny himself this comfort.

Magnus noticed his slip-up earlier, because how could he not? Alec feels awful about hurting him every time he shies away from a kind and thoughtful gesture.

“I can’t be what you want me to be,” he makes the first move. It’s easier than staring at his hands and waiting for the blow.

At the edge of his vision, Magnus’ eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

“I tried to stop. I tried to be more...natural, or something, like you said. But I can’t.”

Magnus tilts his head slightly, but doesn’t say anything. Alex can’t bring himself to look up at him, and he doesn’t know anymore if it’s because he’s ashamed, or simply because sometimes looking at Magnus, at his beauty and his shine and his compassion, is too much.

“I don't know how to do it,” he sighs. “This is who I am, Magnus. I need this...control, this grip on myself to function, otherwise I just fall apart. I don't know how to be anything else.”

“Alexander, I'm not asking you to be.”

Alex looks up in surprise, briefly meeting glamoured brown eyes. But Magnus’ eyes, real shape or not, are not where he gets his cues – they’re too intense, too confusing. No, it’s in the slight tilt of his mouth, the way his hand plays with the golden sheet, the furrow in his brow. Alec relaxes minutely.

“You’re not?”

“It would be rather hypocritical of me, wouldn’t it?” Magnus smiles softly, dropping his glamour. “All I want is for you to be comfortable, to be happy.”

Alec gently slips his arm under Magnus’ head in place of his pillow, feeling the weight of his boyfriend settle in the crook of his elbow. There’s a measure of relief there, the part of himself that always waits for the other shoe to drop, for the moment Magnus will tire of him, contented for now. “I am comfortable,” he murmurs. “Happier than I’ve ever been. There’s always going to be days that are harder than others.”

“Of course,” Magnus smiles. “But I want to do everything in my power to make even those a little less bad for you. I actually had a thought.”

“Um?” Now that his tension is fading a little, Alec feels like he could fall asleep. He shakes himself a little to stay attentive to Magnus’ words.

“What if it’s not about you changing something, dropping some kind of mask, but about adding something?”

“What do you mean?” Alex frowns, struggling to follow.

Magnus shifts a little against his arm, and grabs his hand. Rather than caress it with the tips of his fingers, like he sometimes likes to do, he squeezes it between his own hands.

“The things you do to...regulate yourself, your emotions, your...overloads,” Magnus starts. Alec can tell that he’s hesitating because he’s afraid of freaking him out, not because he doesn’t know how to word it. “They’re important. Necessary.”

Alec opens his mouth to argue, but no words come. He can’t actually deny that. He might hate himself for needing it, for needing the finger biting or the rocking or the myriad other little things he does that are frowned upon, but it gets so much worse when he tried to forbid himself that comfort. That’s what gets him to the gym or up on the roof, training until his hands are dripping blood. It’s how he ends up screaming himself raw in his pillow, hitting his head against the headboard of his bed until he’s too lightheaded to continue.

“From what I understand,” Magnus says slowly, squeezing Alec’s hand tighter, probably to check that he’s still listening, “there’s much more to that than the impulses your parents tried to train you out of. It’s about regulating sensory inputs, but also about...interacting with your environment. And I thought that it’s something we could explore together. Try to find new things that help and comfort you, rather than change what you already do.”

Alec closes his eyes, trying to process the sentence. The shine of the golden satin sheets against the light, their mixed scents in the bed, Magnus’ skin against his, he wants to get rid of it all so he can understand what Magnus is saying. Instead, he turns his hand around until he’s the one holding Magnus’. Magnus hasn’t removed his rings before bed like he usually does, he notices absently as he starts playing with them.

Magnus gives him a tiny smile. “What are you thinking?” he asks.

“You’re not like me,” Alec says. “How can we do this together? I don’t want everything to be about me.”

“Of course not,” Magnus fake-scoffs. “You know I’d never let that happen.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “Right. Seriously, though.”

“I meant it, when I said I want to meet you in the middle. Right now, you do most of the work of coming in my direction and I let you, because I don’t understand or because this translation is second nature to you by now. But I want to move in your direction too. Learn about how you experience the world. And maybe take some of that pressure off of you.”

“Magnus–” Alec starts. He doesn’t know what he wants to say. He’s not sure he knows what Magnus’ words mean, but he knows that this is a gift he never expected. He’s never even entertained the idea of someone else wanting to know him to that extent.

“I don’t know what it’s like, to be different the way you are,” Magnus says, stroking his arm with the hand Alec isn’t playing with. “But as a Downworlder, and a South Asian man in America, and an openly bi man who wears makeup, I do know what it’s like to live in a world that isn’t built for you, that doesn’t welcome someone like you. And I know that it can be very lonely. But you’re not alone, Alexander. Not anymore.”

Alec doesn’t feel the tears running from his eyes until his vision starts blurring, but he sees them mirrored in Magnus’ eyes. “I don’t know what it’s like to be any of those things,” he murmurs. “But you’re not alone either.”

And that’s the greatest gift they can offer each other.

“I think you might enjoy this,” Magnus says in the morning, over breakfast, holding out a little box. It’s Alec’s day off, so they have plenty of time to enjoy the morning – and to talk things through. Last night’s conversation went a long way toward making Alec feel better, but there’s still plenty to discuss.

He takes the box Magnus just conjured and opens it. Inside is a toy shaped a little like a spring, with alternating segments of black and white steel. Alec takes it out and it comes apart like an endless serpent, the segments articulated with each other. “What is it?”

“It’s a fidget toy,” Magnus answers. “I believe it’s called a tangle. I tried to make it visually pleasing, they’re usually made of brightly colored plastic.”

Alex smiles. “What is it for, though?” he asks, but his hands have already figured it out. Unconsciously, he’s started to tangle it around his fingers, spinning the curved segments around to change its shape.

“Having something to do with your hands?” Magnus offers hesitantly. “Please tell me if it’s making you uncomfortable. I don’t want to-”

“No, it’s okay,” Alec interrupts him. “I like it.” Given the sheer amount of time he spends wringing his hands or worrying at his nails, it might even be useful, though he doesn’t think he can get away with carrying it around at the Institute. “What?” he asks when Magnus keeps staring at him.

“Nothing,” Magnus shakes his head. “I honestly wasn’t expecting this to go so smoothly.”

Alec hangs his head in shame. He’s been making Magnus’ life hard, with his stupid panic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think that I didn’t appreciate your efforts.”

“No, no. I kept springing it on you with no warning. I was wrong to try to do this without talking it through with you the whole way.” Magnus gestures toward the couch area, where the pile of books is still growing. “After reading all this stuff, I think I forgot that we weren’t on the same wavelength, that just because I thought I’d figured something out, it didn’t mean you were ready for me to act on it. I tried to make gestures to show you that I understand you but...well, the truth is that I don’t. I’ll never understand some of you, and some will take time for me figure out.”

Alec opens his mouth to protest, but Magnus holds out a hand. “But this isn’t about understanding,” he continues. “It’s about accepting. It’s about standing by you and supporting you no matter how little I understand what’s happening in your head. I was still trying to force these things on you because I thought that, since I’ve read those books, I knew something of what you might need, but I don’t. You do. I should have asked you.”

Alec stares and works his jaw, a little stunned. His hands have figured out how to restore the tangle to its original shape of a spring, and he swirls it around one finger. “Thank you,” he says eventually, at a loss for words. It’s a lot. Magnus’ openness, his apology, is far from anything he braced himself for, and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“Can I ask you one thing?” Magnus asks softly.

“Of course.” They still haven’t touched the breakfast they sat at the table for, but the beauty of magic is that they don’t need to worry about it getting cold.

“You didn’t react when I first got the books. Did you know what I was doing?”

Alec squeezes the tangle toy around his fingers, until it hurts a little. The pain helps him focus. “I’m not sure,” he says. “I never…I never had a word. For it. I've heard of autism, but I didn't...I don't know, make the connection? Not really. But then you...suddenly it was like...you were doing everything right. Things you shouldn't have known to do. Things that no one has ever done.”

He pauses, but Magnus doesn't try to speak, just lets him gather his thoughts.

“Like right now,” Alec chuckles. “Like you know that I struggle with talking sometimes. But you're not supposed to know that.”

“I'm not?” Magnus asks. “Because I knew, long before I read anything. I just didn't know what to do.”

Alec tilts his head. “You did?” They're going a little off track here, and he's lost the thread. But his surprise is real.

“Of course. You thought I never noticed?”

“People mostly don't. Except Izzy, she picks up on it more easily.”

“Then why is it so strange for me to pick up on it?” Magnus asks.

Alec shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t have a lot of expectations, coming into this relationship. I don’t have much to compare it to, you know?”

Magnus smiles. “Ah, right. Well, a life the length of mine gives you plenty of time to better understand the human psyche. And yet, you still surprise me every day.”

“Because I’m...autistic?” Alec feels his cheeks heat up. He’s never said the word before, never applied it to himself. It’s a strange feeling. It doesn’t roll quite right on his tongue, and yet it feels right, in a way. He’s autistic, and the implications of that are overwhelming.

“Because you’re autistic,” Magnus repeats pensively. “Because you’re selfless and beautiful and funny. Because you’re sarcastic and you say things I don’t expect, and you stand your own ground when by all rights you should be falling apart, and you fluster adorably when I try to flirt. Because you’re you, Alexander. And yes, your autism is a part of it.”

The changes are subtle, and they don’t make a huge impact on their relationship. Alec is incredibly relieved by that. Bit by bit, he stops expecting Magnus to realize that he’s too much to handle and get tired of him.

“I’m the one who’s usually too much,” Magnus tells him darkly, when Alec opens up about that particular fear.

There’s a well of emotions in his eyes when he says that that they’ll need to explore, at some point. Magnus has a lot of baggage, too, a long history of sticking out. Of being different. On days like this, Alec can’t remember how he ever thought that Magnus wouldn’t understand.

“It’s a good thing I can never get enough of you, then,” he offers simply, for now. Magnus isn’t ready to talk about it yet, about the people who’ve hurt him.

Magnus’ face softens immediately. “You really are a delight,” he smiles.

Alec beams at him and goes back to the book he’s holding. He’s very slowly making his way through the pile of books Magnus bought. Most of them aren’t meant to be read cover to cover anyway, and he’s currently picking through an anthology of texts by autistic writers.

He’s learning a lot. So much more than he expected, going in. He figured, he may not have had a word for it before, but he already knows himself, right? But there’s new words to put on things he’s never even thought about, new ideas to try, a whole new understanding of the world around him. Sure, he knows himself, but it turns out that he knows everyone else a lot less well than he thought he did.

And there is the new, incredible feeling of being understood. That there’s someone out there, a whole community of someones, who resemble him in the ways he always thought he was alone. For that alone, the books are worth everything. It’s akin to the feeling he had the first times he snuck away from the Institute, as a teenager, to go read gay romances in a secluded corner of the local library.

Magnus’ understanding is just as precious. He doesn’t push for anything, only supports Alec quietly. Even now, as they sit together on the couch reading, he’s attentive to the way Alec reacts to his touch, tightening his loose hold on Alec’s thigh as soon as Alec starts squirming in discomfort. He redirects Alec’s restless hand from tapping a pattern on his thigh toward his own beaded bracelets, offering them as a stim toy without even seeming to think about it.

Alec tries to focus on his book. The text is about flapping, and special education forbidding it. It’s poignant, but it’s not something Alec can really relate to. And yet, he’s been stuck on it for ten minutes, trying to pinpoint why his brain just won’t move on.

It finally comes in the form of memories. Stop moving your hands around and pay attention! Can’t you just stay still for once? It’s in Mom and Dad’s voices, in Hodge’s, every instructor Alec had before he successfully trained himself out of stimming and perfected his parade rest. He even heard it, full of annoyance, from Izzy – Jace came into their lives later, when Alex was already a good little soldier. But even know, his hands itch to clasp behind his back, and he unconsciously straightens his posture.

No.

“What’s wrong?” Magnus asks, seemingly casual, but Alec can tell that he’s paying close attention.

Alec shrugs, words failing him. How can he explain the storm of emotions inside him? His fingers twitch again and he stares at them, and behind them, at the book.

Flapping is the new terrorist-fist-bump, he reads.

Shadowhunters are always in full control of their movements, echoes in his head. A long-learned lesson. But no one ever asked of Izzy and Jace to stop laughing or joking or brooding or crying, not when they’re off the clock. That was only required of Alec. Because the way Alec behaves isn’t normal.

Because the way Alec communicates makes them uncomfortable.

Alec feels nausea gripping his stomach. He wants to cry, to scream – to move. “Alexander,” Magnus starts, sensing the change.

Alec shakes his head to stop him and he closes the book, firmly. “I want to try something,” he announces, like saying it aloud will unclench the part of him that’s rearing in terror right now.

“Go ahead, darling,” Magnus drawls, and maybe it’s the permission Alec needs.

He stares at his hand for a moment, and carefully, purposefully makes it flutter. It's like he doesn't know how, like something his body has forgotten how to do. He thinks of his bow, of the sting of the string against his fingers and flexes them, hitting the tips against his palm. The memory isn't quite there, but there's something, something right about it. His fingers find his other palm, his left hand, tapping softly there. He closes his right hand into a fist, and taps his knuckles against his left palm, listening to the soft noise it makes.

“How does it feel?” Magnus asks, his voice low like he doesn't want to interrupt the moment.

Alec shakes his head. “I don't know. It's like...I don't know how to do this. It doesn't feel natural.”

“You don't have to flap your hands to be autistic, you know. Or to be yourself.”

“I know, but...I think I could? I don't know if that makes sense.” He taps his hands some more, palm against palm, harder.

“It doesn't have to make sense,” Magnus smiles. “Just to feel right.”

Does it feel right? It feels ridiculous, childish, not suitable for a grown man. It feels like a rebellion, a fuck you to all the times he’s been told to sit still, to stop moving. It feels artificial and yet like it comes from deep inside at the same time. Something repressed and almost gone, an echo of a feeling long forgotten. Something he can learn again, and maybe learn himself in the process.

It feels forbidden. Terrifying.

It feels right.

#shadowhunters #alec lightwood #magnus bane #malec #malec fic #alec lightwood fic #magnus bane fic #shadowhunters fic #mine #echo's fanfiction

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bbnibini · 4 years ago

Text

PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA – forty-four🔖

{ OPEN STATUS : YES

> approved > displaying capture targets

Mammon : 100♡/100♡ Satan: 85♡/100♡ Barbatos: 0♡/100♡ Lucifer: 5♡/100♡

CLOSE STATUS : YES >approved }

You wondered where it all went wrong.

Everything had been perfect since you discovered the identity of your secret admirer. Uncovering sides of Mammon that perhaps he wasn't even aware of himself, you spent a lot of time getting to know each other, marveling at every new thing you discovered about him. You kept his love-filled words close to your heart, lingering there at times when you felt lost and perhaps even unloved. His penned words were beautiful yet poignant, hopeful yet deep which, you have eventually discovered reflected so much of Mammon himself. He often rebuffed your praises, perhaps shy of your careful observations. There would always be a blush there dusting his cheeks, colouring itself in deeper shades at every sneaky kiss. You always liked those nights when you talk about anything that pops out of your minds, and you thought he liked them too. But now, you were starting to feel doubt.

"Mammon, I didn't mean to--"

He turned away from you and covered his face with both of his hands. "This ai-- this won't…" he hesitated. "It will never work between us."

How did it come to this?

💌💌💌

Flashback to this morning when it all started.

"Mammon?" you couldn't help but reach out to him, your hand touching his cheek. ' Didn't the spell work?' you thought to yourself as you heard him stutter a 'Yes', kissing your inner palms.

"Is something amiss, my love? You look like you've seen a ghost."

So it didn't work?

You shook your head and let your hand rest on his cheek. "No…I was just wondering if you wanted to sleep some more."

Why is he still acting like this?

"If I sleep now, then it would ruin yesterday's efforts." he fiddled with something in his DDD--his email app; showing two booked tickets to Devil's Coast. Signs of the old Mammon showed in his boyish grin. "And all it took was covering for an acquaintance's shift."

"Is that why you're there yesterday?"

Mammon smiled shyly. "Yes…I wanted to surprise you. Is it too early to celebrate the conclusion of our final exams?"

You couldn't help but smile back. You planted a kiss on his lips which he happily received. "Very early. But this is a nice change of pace before Armageddon."

"Ain't that the--" he cleared his throat and quickly corrected himself. "Very true. Once this weekend is over, we are back to our old, monotonous routines."

You weren't imagining it. Something about his graceful movements really did seem off. "I'm looking forward to it!" Then again, you supposed there was a reason behind this. You decided to humour him and pretend you haven't noticed anything. "Let me wash up first and we can grab something to eat?"

"That sounds lovely."

Hoping your feigned smile wouldn't betray you, you shut the bathroom door and quickly opened your DDD to text Satan.

You looked at your own reflection in the mirror and nodded to yourself. Turtleneck it is. You learned your lesson the last time. A mixture of Mammon's toiletries and yours were in the bathroom, making you remember how he was trying his best to hide his excitement from invading half of your space the first time you talked about sharing a room. Not like his room was safe from your own stuff too--it just so happens that he likes hanging around your room lately because of how busy you were. He usually finishes his council duties early and tries (read: tried) to help you with yours, until both of you immediately realise that his bystanding was the best help he could offer. Any pouting from his side was placated with hugs and kisses, words of love he was too shy to say back and a loving gaze he couldn't help but give you when he thought you wouldn't notice. He still isn't the most honest demon when it comes to expressing his feelings, but you can see that he was trying. You just hoped that his recent gentlemanly behaviour is also a part of his trials and he isn't involved in anything dangerous.

Letting go of your nostalgia and embracing the present back in your thoughts, you wondered about the sound of shattering glass from outside. There you saw a flustered Mammon picking up the shards of what looked like Lucifer's china with his bare hands--his gentlemanly facade was nowhere to be seen.

"Mammon, no! Put that down. You'll injure yourself!" you cried, responding on instinct to take his hands into yours, throwing the shards back to the floor in the process. You snuck a look at Mammon and saw his troubled expression, bitten lips you usually noticed when he wasn't having the best kind of thoughts---or you simply dubbed as sad Mammon upon discovering it one drunken, wild and passionate night. You couldn't smell any alcohol on him this time though so you wondered what caused him to look this way.

"I'm fine…" Gentlemammon was back, albeit with a shaky voice. "Please don't worry, I still have to clean this up."

"Let me help you."

"It will heal quickly even if I get injured. There is nothing to worry about." he assured you, keeping your warning in mind, only to take it back once he saw your worried look. "I will wear gloves this time," he said as he hastily placed each pair on, a small smile forming his lips as he did so. "There, you see? I will be fine. So please step back now and I'll do it myself."

"What were you doing anyway?"

Mammon avoided eye contact. "I wanted to serve you breakfast in bed."

"That's very sweet but, you shouldn't push yourself too hard."

Silence. He continued picking up the shards, disposing of it in a trash bag nearby. "I want to push myself." You heard him sigh. "However, I suppose it's my mistake to assume I can carry this out without failure. Can I try again though?"

You didn't have the heart to reject him especially if he looked like a kicked puppy right now. "Of course! But I want to eat with you."

A compromise that he was willing to adhere to. The pancakes he made were slightly charred and oddly spicy. The Melancholy Coffee™ you praised him for making the other day tasted even worse---unpleasantly bitter that if you didn't attribute its strong, bitter taste to Mammon's love for you would have caused a gagging reflex. A feigned smile was painted on your face for the rest of breakfast, making mental notes to take stomach medicine once he is out of sight. You comforted yourself with the fact that you had a date with him today. The bitterness subsided a bit with your early morning daydreams.

Satan had been a wonderful accomplice. With his intervention, Mammon avoided bumping into anyone, thus making his situation a lot less complicated. The avatr of wrath gave you a conspiratory smile and a wink, mouthing you well wishes for your day by your lover's side to go smoothly. You nodded and mouthed back at him a thanks in reply. Your back and forth didn't escape notice however. You avoided Mammon's sensible questioning with a clueless smile.

"I haven't seen even Beelzebub at the dining area today. Is everyone but Satan asleep?"

Smile.

"I was going to pay back Leviathan for the money I owed him this morning. I wonder why he isn't around today…"

He will pay back?! Smile

"I wonder how my dear eldest brother Lucifer is doing--"

S-smile…

"As I thought, perhaps expecting change from me is unsightly. I'm sorry if I'm wasting your weekend by asking you out out of the blue…"

Smi--

"Wait, no!" you held him by his face and vehemently denied his claims. "I love you, Mammon! I'm looking forward to today as you are!"

Blush.

Your faces resembled tomatoes. Satan had to clear his throat to remind both of you of his presence.

"If you flirt any longer, you'll miss your bus."

"R-right…" you looked away.

"Certainly." Mammon stuttered. You felt a hand reaching out for yours, turning to Mammon who had a bashful smile. You smiled back and interlocked your fingers together.

The ride to the amusement park was awkward yet pleasant. You saw cracks in his facade a couple of times, familiar with the reluctance on his movements unlike his odd and almost unsettling finesse at the cafe. You still weren't sure if he really is still under a curse or not, or if he is and it was weakening every moment, but you decided to wait for him to address it on his own. You have recently learned that Mammon gets really flustered if you pay attention to him (bordering almost on timidity) and loses his will/drive if you let him know that you are aware of him. A few pillow talks ago, he admitted it was because he only wanted to show you his cool sides, to which you answered (with much confusion), "But you're always cool though?" and he responded with his usual remarks, ranging from "idiot" to his classic "weirdo"™. Today, much like yesterday however, there was none of that. Instead, he called you several affectionate pet names, and even bashfully shared some snacks with you that he usually considered as "indirect kiss territory", which is Mammon Code for "I ain't doin' this cos I like it, kay?" which totally meant that he was doing it because he liked the heck out of it.

"Hey Mammon," you looked at his reflection from your window seat as you spoke. "Why did you write me a letter?"

You saw him blush an adorable shade of red from the window. "What's with the sudden question?"

"I was just curious," you answered. "I didn't know you could write so well."

"I-is that so…"

"I really appreciate it, although you might be tired of hearing it already."

"...."

"I'm so glad you sent it to me. To be honest, I was beginning to wonder if anyone will ever remember me once I go back to the human world." you remembered your first interaction with him and laughed. "We didn't have the best first impression of each other, didn't we?"

"...I should have treated you better."

You leaned your head on his shoulder and kissed his cheek, looking up to meet his eyes. "You're doing it now and that's what matters."

You sensed sadness in his eyes for a fraction of a second before the conductor announced your stop. You must have imagined it.

💌💌💌

"Wahhh! Mammon, look! Look! Is that Red Devil?! Kyaaaa he's so cuuuute!!"

"O-oi, don't pull-- I mean…Cease! Cease!"

You couldn't help it! There was so much to see everywhere! The crowded theme park was filled with all kinds of attractions at every direction that any child or child-at-heart would definitely enjoy. Taking a photo with the park's mascot, Red Devil is one of the first activities you have done from your many planned ones on your date. Your contagious enthusiasm had infected him that by the time he realised he was grinning at every picture, it was too late. He looked oddly disturbed but you only laughed it off and reassured him that the shots were great!

"It isn't...after all, I'm--"

"Mammon?"

"It's nothing." You were beginning to feel bad for dragging him along.

"Is everything okay?" he suddenly turned pale and you asked him to sit down. "Do you want to take a break?"

He declined your offer and shook his head. "I'm fine. Let's continue our date, shall we?"

Eh?

That pose…

"The Devilish Duke?"

It was definitely the Devilish Duke from the manga adaptation of Emison Beckstein's timeless classic, The Emerald-Eyed Earl. The Devilish Duke was the protagonist's fiancé and was a minor villain in the story. He became hugely popular because of the success of the manga adaptation as well as the artist's interpretation of his design. You couldn't help but mention it right now because Mammon was currently mimicking the Duke's infamous "courtship pose", which many otakus credit for being the very first ever "kabedon".

Mammon's eyes widened once you mentioned his name and quickly pulled away. He dragged you gently to the next attraction before you could say a word.

His odd behaviour only persisted as your date went on-- a kiss on your hand near the fountains, like what Senpai-San did to Shujinko-chan in Heartbeat Memorial: My First Love, Please Notice Me Or I Will Spontaneously Combust! ; a reiteration of an infamous line from a popular otome game, Mystery Message Delivery in the ferris wheel, as well as a kiss at its top, just like Mary Sue and Gary Stu from the popular Devildom Drama, I'm a Powerful Demon But I Fell in Love with a Human?. If you weren't familiar with the references, your heart must have already given out the first time he attempted those moves at you, but since you were aware of where they're from, you couldn't help but think it was cute instead. He must have done his own research to make you happy, but it was a failure on his part to not realise that you would have been happy even if he didn't go out of his way. Then again, it was pretty unfair to complain because anything Mammon did in your own biased eyes was precious and adorable.

"I love you, Mammon." you muttered loud enough for him to hear while you were in line for the Devil's Teacups . He must have heard it because he squeezed your hand tighter as you waited.

There were still times when he persisted on keeping his Gentlemammon™ facade, much like when he declined going to the horror house with you, only for you to find out he wanted to turn you down in the first because he wasn't very good with ghosts (You had to wait for him to defrost after turning into a literal ice sculpture when one of the ghosts grabbed him by the ankle). He also swore not to let you ride "rigorous rides", but finally let his hair down and rode all of your favourite thrill rides with his usual energy and cheer. By the time he realised this, both of you were lining up for the March of Death for the third time. You learned your lesson already and didn't make a fuss about his tiny revelation. Instead, you held him by the arm and smiled at him. "It's fun, isn't it?" Mammon looked shocked at first, but as he sighed and finally replied, you noticed he was back to his usual self. "It certainly is." Your heart immediately deflated at his answer, but more than anything, you couldn't help but be disappointed in yourself.

He had his guard up for the rest of your date and you didn't know why. It seemed like he was forcing himself. The sun was starting to set, and the bus home had been terribly late so you had a lot of time to contemplate while waiting for it to come. Mammon had been silent, looking up at the sky as if searching for something far away. You didn't want him to wander too far so you pulled him back.

"Why have you been acting weird since yesterday. What's wrong?" you couldn't help it. You have finally ran out of patience and you're starting to take his unusual behaviour personally, which you know deep down was unfair especially with how he went out of his way today.

Mammon looked taken aback, frowning once he processed your words. "What do you mean?"

"That. Why…why are you doing that?"

"..."

When he didn't answer, you finally aired out the thoughts weighing you down. "I didn't want to ask you because I wanted you to say it first, I'm sorry. Was it because of what I said last night?"

He called your name, sounding hurt. "Do you not like it?"

You shook your head. "I meant it when I said I don't like it, you know. And I mean it in the best way!" You held him by the hand and placed it close to your chest, hoping your beating heart was already telling. "I prefer the real you."

"Do you really mean that?"

You nodded again. "I even consulted Satan yesterday to undo your curse. You...you were cursed, weren't you?"

"So it was you."

What?

"Mammon,what's going on?" What did he mean by that? You started to worry.

However, despite your repetitions, Mammon didn't answer. Instead, he only looked at you guiltily. At some point, he held your hand back with his trembling ones. He needs time, you thought to yourself and kissed his knuckles, not saying a word. Eventually, your patience was rewarded.

"...I asked the witches to curse me."

You quietly urged him to continue speaking. "I just wanted this date to be perfect, y'know? Don't wanna screw it up. I always do.

Now don't look at me like that. It's unfair. Ya say one thing but mean another. Even you are sick and tired of me, yeah?"

What…

When did you ever say that?!

It hurt. It hurts to think that Mammon ever thought you'd think of him that way. You thought you had been a wonderful lover to him, always showering him with affection and treasuring every moment you shared together. You thought he knew how much he mattered to you, but it turns out you weren't expressing yourself enough and he assumed you were lying to yourself.

"I…I never…"

Crap. Now, you can't even see him clearly. Stupid tears. You felt him wiping your eyes at every tear shed, muttering apologies as he gently held you in his arms. "Shit! I didn't mean to make ya cry. Fuck, this is why I'm such a screw up! If I coulda stayed cursed for a while longer, you'd never cry like this!"

"Mammon…I love you." you repeated those words again and again until you were satisfied. "Didn't I tell you? I love you for who you are and what you are that I have eventually found out on my own."

He didn't speak after what you said, instead he pulled you away from the hug. Despite feeling disheartened, you continued to speak. "Mammon, I don't care how long it takes for you to accept that you are all of the things I tell you. If I can lend you my eyes so you can see what kind of wonderful demon I'm seeing whenever I look at you, I'd do so in a heartbeat. I love you."

You thought this would placate him, but instead, he sneered. "Which part of me do you actually love?"

"Everything!" you answered. "I love that there is so much more to you than meets the eye---I feel thankful every day that I have been privy to see that sweet and sincere side of you, especially in your letter. True, I did not feel that way at first, but the letter, oh Mammon. I fell in love with you upon reading its first passages! No one had ever said such precious words to me in my life, so I wanted to do the same for you."

"In the end, it's always that stupid letter."

"Excuse me?"

"IT'S ALWAYS THAT STUPID FUCKING LETTER!" he shouted, immediately regretting his outburst once he saw the hurt look on your face. However hurt you looked as the truth was spoken to you, he pressed on and twisted the knife even further. If a sweet memory is a calm before your inevitable storm (read: breakup), it was better to at least tell you the truth.

"I can't see it. I can't see that wonderful demon you're always talking about---the one who wrote that letter to you." The sunset dyed his silver hair orange. "I tried seeing him. Maybe it's me who's the problem, y'know? You kept on telling me I'm all these amazin' things, but I just couldn't. All I see is...me."

"Mammon."

"You said I was sincere, but I don't remember bein' sincere at all when I was writin' that stupid thing, so I tried to be even if I was bad at it. You said I was thoughtful so I tried to be, but look at where that thoughtfulness went---tears on your fucking face." he laughed bitterly. "I'm an absolute saint, aren't I?"

"...I really meant it you know?"

" 'Course you do. That's fer sure. But lovin' a scum means he's still scum. You deserve better, and I can't give that to ya."

"But Mammon…I only want you."

Mammon's bitter smile never left his face. "Do ya really? Or do you want the Mammon who wrote you the letter?"

!!!

"See? I gotcha, didn't I?"

You don't understand. What did he get that you didn't? You love Mammon, that was the truth. You did not love him, and weren't even aware of him at first, but the letter he sent to your locker changed that. It was a catalyst for finally seeing him in a completely different light. What was the difference between the Mammon who wrote the letter to the Mammon in front of you in the first place? Aren't they one and the same? Was he joking right now? Because you certainly weren't laughing.

However many thoughts were racing in your mind right now, only three words seem to come out of you.

"I love you," and every utterance only brought more tears in your eyes, afraid of the possibility that Mammon must have been feeling the same way right now.

You were tired. Tired of explaining it to him, tired of reassuring him that he was fine the way he is. Every 'I love you' was like a dagger to your heart, growing conscious of the fact that both of you may feel the same way, but both of your feelings weren't reaching each other at all.

In your exasperation, you couldn't help but finally say,

"I don't want this anymore."

You wondered where it all went wrong.

"Mammon, I didn't mean to--"

He turned away from you and covered his face with both of his hands. "This ai-- this won't…" he hesitated. "It will never work between us."

*beep!*

"Get on first. I'll catch up with ya."

"...okay."

How did it come to this?

💌💌💌

You didn't know how you were able to get home that night. You couldn't even remember the people you spoke to before you went back to your room. The side of your bed was empty of Mammon as well as your heart.

You didn't realise that you hurt him. You might have meant well and were even truthful of your affections for him, but the truth still laid there, mocking you in the face--you were idealising him. You thought you knew him by a few reads of the scented passages of his letter, that you refused to see him for who he really is. Oh, what a hypocrite you are.

His question continued to linger in your mind as you retrieved the said letter from your drawer. You didn't have the heart to read what it says anymore.

Why does it matter? It's all over.

Thinking in that vein, you sighted the gas lamp near your table and started entertaining darker thoughts.

Why not just forget about everything?

[ What will you do? ]

💌Burn the letter

💌Hesitate

💌masterlist

#psisly #hamartia series #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me cyoa #interactive fiction #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #love letter #secret admirer

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