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catesartworks · 2 years ago

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Isekai Maid Asks Pt.3

More asks under the read more! Very long, I go into depth about some of the titles from the maid slapping masterlist

Content Warning, I talk about slavery, human trafficking, stalking and physical abuse within the context of the story

Made some edits on 7/5/2023! :D

Thank you so much! :D

I did like “No More Turning a Blind Eye” at first until the gentrification storyline where the main couple decide to kick out all the people living in poverty so they could build an art center and destroy their homes. Apparently I was supposed to root for them? It was so disturbing I had to stop reading it and I couldn’t enjoy it anymore. Now it serves as a reminder of just how low nobility can sink to get what they want.

For the next one, I wouldn’t say I hate “I am the Real One,” I still love a lot of things about it but after a certain point it kind of became slow so I had to take a break from it. I also wasn’t a fan of how they handled Cosette’s maid. She’s basically Kira without the money, and I think she would’ve been a good character if they gave her a chance. She did it all for her younger brother, who was ill, and was going to risk hell and high water to make sure he was provided for.

Thank you so much! I have a few:

Beware the Villainess (Great to start after watching Bakarina)

The Monstrous Duke’s Adopted Daughter

The Villainess’ Stationary Shop (So fun!)

Not Sew Wicked Stepmom (So Cute)

Master Villainess the Invincible (Martial Arts Villainess, we need more of this!)

Thank you!

As for Erica, she lived in a part of Limpette was being colonized by the invading nation of Teffrah. They set up segregated neighborhoods with only Teffrah nobles, which is where she grew up. The nobles in Teffrah like to come to Limpette for it’s environmental beauty, but discriminate against the population that lives there.

Erica was set up with Mr. Katopodis because his family had a summer home there and they wanted him to get remarried so he could have a male heir.

1) Yes, Nasir regretted killing Zoe. He was definitely gro//omed by the female lead, Belliana and was taught that she “saved him” by buying him and turning him into a slave. He thought that because she did favors for him and allowed him some level of freedom that he was better than other slaves and that Zoe didn’t appreciate the female lead’s supposed generosity. He ends up killing Zoe by accident, but he convinces himself that it was for the best.

It wasn’t until he wanted to get married to a woman he met that the Belliana showed her true colors and forbid him. She was one of those people who thought, “if I went back time and there was slavery, I would buy them and treat them nice!” But at the end of the day she was just another slave owner.

Belliana refused to let him get married because she wanted to avoid her own death flag, and she even had the woman he wanted to marry sent away to die. In a rage, he kills Belliana.

2) Bridgette tends to internalize the justifications that the stories make for female leads to abuse their workers. It’s true that stealing is wrong in general, but she was basically a slave to the female lead and was never compensated. Belliana stole the fruits of her labor from her.

Bridgette has done wrong in the past, but cannot always remember. Her memory isn’t perfect, but she has done things like murdering a noblewoman, delivering poison, hitting other maids.

3) Clara’s ending had her being given a sum of money by Phoebe after Phoebe dies. She leaves the manor and lives happily.

Clara as a character wasn’t liked from the beginning due to audiences being distrustful of any female character other than the protagonist. Comment sections were waiting for Phoebe to stand up to Clara, who they thought was too greedy for a maid because she was beloved by people in the story.

Audiences hated it so much that they harassed the author into making a new version of the story to cash in on the isekai craze. The author noticed that a crack ship formed between Prince Dimitri and Phoebe, it shot up in popularity and audiences wanted them to be together.

That is how “Flowers Thrive in Autumn” became a new novel starring the reincarnator Phoebe called “The Wicked Woman Delivers”. In this version of the story, Clara is secretly revealed to be a “white lotus” character who frames the newly reincarnated Phoebe and must “be taught her place” as a maid. It sold very well, but the author hated it and she took a break from writing because of all the stress it caused her.

4) Reincarnators, when discovered are quietly approached by the military and asked if they have information on weapon development. The Teffrah military is especially interested in trying to build airplanes and colonizing surrounding countries.

Reincarnators, particularly ones in nobility are allowed to roam around as long as they contribute to society and bolster Teffrah’s “superior” image.

The abundance of reincarnators also play a huge role in the general support the nobility has for eugenics and maintaining the class system, because they want the general population to believe that only nobles can create generation defining art, music, and technological advancements. It also fuels anti immigrant sentiment.

A lot of reincarnators are from the commoner class in the future, but many usually get caught up in the glamor of being a noble and allow inequality to continue because the class system personally benefits them, or they’re overwhelmed and prefer not to get involved in trying to tackle societies problems.

The type of reincarnators that come into the world are extremely specific, and not to get into spoiler territory, but there is a reason why so many office workers get isekai’d into Teffrah.

5) I’m not sure I would want to do that trope. It’s been used a lot and I don’t think I can do anything new with it that hasn’t already been done.

Thank you! As a fellow autistic person, I’m happy you identify with Marina! 😊

Thank you very much for reading Isekai Maid! I really appreciate it. ^ ___ ^

1) I’m not entirely sure I can add more to the list, but I’ll try and update it. I know there’s more to the list than what I’ve listed, but the maid slapping trope isn’t a pleasant one for me to look at so it might take me a while.

Reading those kinds of scenes gives me flashbacks to when I worked in fast food service, and seeing the comment sections basically cheer for the kinds of people who made my coworker’s lives miserable,or made them cry and over the pettiest things like food not being hot enough is kind of exhausting.

As for Villainess Reverses the Hourglass, I have to say I do enjoy the manwha a lot since it’s my gateway to Otome Isekkai, but it has some ISSUES, especially with it’s discussion of politics. Some of my issues goes into spoiler territory, and I feel like some twists end up undermining the themes of the overall story. I love a good revenge story, though, and it was one of the earlier stories I read in Otome Isekai. So yeah, not everyone’s cup of tea and I get that.

2) For “Author of My Own Destiny”, yes, it’s pretty gross to give her dirty mop water. Yuck! But this maid character doesn’t act like a person, she is an obstacle to be hit and smacked by the noble MC Fiona as a cheap power move with little to no true consequences.

Hitting maids (even terrible ones) as a trope has never been about justice. It’s always been about reinforcing class dynamics and suppression of the lower classes by portraying commoners as greedy and abusive to prop up noble protagonists. It implies that if nobles don’t “correct” commoners, they will get “out of control.”

Protagonists, who when confronted with nobles who do identical things, let them off the hook/delay accountability or attempt to be cordial with them (such as in the case of Fiona).

Let’s not even get started on male leads in romance fantasy/Otome Isekai, who do all sorts of crimes like stalking, harassment and other forms of abuse and are romanticized for it because they are nobles.

These stories are power fantasies, ones where readers who might have been abused by people in power themselves and want justice vicariously through fiction. But between a noble and a commoner, there are no stakes if the MC is a noble. The noble has everything at their fingertips to win.

And what is odd about the whole sequence in “Author of My Own Destiny” is that Fiona (the MC) does the following:

She slaps the maid twice

Splashes her with the mop water

Calls her lowly due to her class, mocking her for being a commoner

Threatens to cut out her tongue

Threatens her with magic

Internally is disgusted that a commoner/maid would look a noble in the eyes.

In the next chapter, Fiona directly passes by the stepmother, Countess Green, the cause of all of this. Her stepmother who verbally abuses her, makes her life miserable and has most likely been encouraging the evil maid’s behavior. The ultimate showdown, right?

Since what happened to Fiona was such a horrible experience, you’d expect her to unfold the same amount of abuse tenfold on the stepmother. Right?

But she doesn’t. Fiona, who the chapter before was slapping a maid and making threats to cut out the maid’s tongue, suddenly goes “I don’t want to cause any trouble.” 😔

She even says “I wish I could slap her (Countess Green)” UM what?? Fiona, girl you were slap happy last chapter, what’s stopping you? SLAP that noble!

Literally a chapter before she was hitting a maid for all of the abuse she suffered, but now when she has the ability to stand up to the person who made all of this happen in the first place, NOW she backs out?

From a meta point of view, Fiona lets the noble slide, but gets violent with the commoner. There is no true accountability if one party is condemned due to status, but the other gets away scot free because they’re a noble. Who’s power fantasy is this? Who does it serve?

The only reason is because she knows she would get struck back, and it would cause a problem she can’t prepare for. This isn’t the power fantasy I want. Accommodating to the nobles who do harm to you, but smacking any commoner who crosses you. That isn’t power, I don’t know what that is, but it’s not justice.

Edit (07/5/2023):

SPOILERS for chapter 24:

The stepmother only gets smacked once she loses her status. Not only does Fiona refuse to confront her stepmother on the abuse she instigated through he maid, but she is also allowed to get away for presumably weeks after in incident where Fiona slapped her maid around.

Another interesting note is that Fiona is much more violent with the commoner maid than her noble stepmother. Even when she does finally slap the stepmother, it’s only one and done. She doesn’t manhandle her like the maid.

And that was only when she was sure there would be no consequences for her actions and her stepmother lost her status. When it comes to nobility, only when she is sure their wealth would be stripped does she begin even thinking about striking them.

End edit

It’s interesting that the justifications of hitting maids is often brought up, because every comic I have on the list justifies the maid abuse by basically saying “those dumb lowly maids were being uppity to me, a noble! >:(”

I am the Real One: A maid badmouthed Keira’s lineage in “I am the Real One” SMACK!

The Lady Needs a Break: Rubia wanted breakfast and was given a lower quality than usual food - SMACK!

Duchess’ 50 Tea Recipes: The maids didn’t tidy up Chloe’s room and help her get dressed, they were also, like, totally mean girls to her even though she is the lady of the house and could easily fire them -- SMACK! Slap the head maid and threaten her coworkers!

Solitary Lady: The maid gives Hillis cold water, is slightly annoying? Hillis throw water on her and threatens to chop her hands off (this is actually what I based Lady Deliliah’s remarks on)

These stories all have the same excuses. All of their maid abuse was justified in some way by the story by making them all stereotypically evil. It’s easier to overlook the social implications of a noble hitting a maid if the maid totally deserves it because she secretly kicks puppies and steals food from orphans?

That’s why I tend to look at the meta implications of the trope more than the in- universe explanations because these maids dress like working class women, many come from lower status, so the logic would be that they would be trying to supporting their families and want to just do their jobs. But these evil maid characters don’t act like they have anyone who depends on them to keep their job.

The maids are essentially a stand in for what are essentially high school/office level “mean girls.” Why not fire them if they’re so bad at their jobs and harass people? You can’t fire “mean girls,” you work with you HAVE to interact with them at some point. You can, however, fire a maid because being a maid is a job and she works for you.

Even a noble household, no matter what they would think of the MC, would be in big trouble if they let commoners mistreat their family member and drag their name through the mud. It could easily be a gateway to disrespecting them and their own power/influence.These stories pretend that maids have so much power and the nobility who employ them have very little to stop them.

But at the same time, noble MC’s can hit, smack, and thrash their maids with no consequences whatsoever, but can’t fire them? The power dynamics are completely dishonest.

And what pains me is that people in service positions CAN be dicks, or abusive. But at the same time, many don’t last long and there is a reason. If someone is spreading rumors, talking shit about their employer’s kids, not doing work, etc then ideally they’re outta there because work needs to get done. But even so, toxic workplaces exist everywhere and people slip through. People who are horrible do end up with those who are vulnerable. And when this happens, accountability is essential and justice is needed.

If majority of these stories even touched on this subject knowing this, and how someone like these maid characters even made it in such a workplace while being uncooperative and unhelpful, then it would be really fascinating and open up questions on how to better improve workplaces. You could talk about how who gets promoted, favoritism, discrimination, etc.

But most on my maid slapping masterlist don’t. To these stories, a maid’s status is the worst thing about them if they aren’t submissive.

This evil maid trope also undermines the impact of abuse main characters have suffered too, because it makes a big point on how low the status of the maid is committing the abuse, instead of the abuse itself being detestable and worthy of accountability.

And that honestly really sucks. It’s not right, that isn’t the author’s intention, and I feel like that shouldn’t be what I take away from this story.

#this isekai maid #this isekai maid is forming a union

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marley-manson · 1 year ago

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New Doctor Who episode reaction post in a pros and cons list. Overall I really liked it.

Pros:

-- That's my show!!! That's my faves!!!!!! They're right there on the screen!!!

-- Donna Donna Donna Donna Donna Donna Donna Donna <3333333333333333

-- Gorgeous TARDIS interior, I cannot believe it's an actual 100% physical set god damn, I'm in love. I think it's actually better than the old coral

-- Rose was a great character, love her. I think Davies did really well writing her as trans, the scene with her shitty classmates and Donna being protective was a great moment imo that was just the right amount of transphobia to feel grounded without feeling gratuitous, and Sylvia second guessing herself about calling Rose gorgeous was also a nice moment. Felt real but also warm and loving.

-- I liked that Rose feeling like she's from an alien planet isn't a trans thing, it's a secretly has timelord genetics thing lol

-- oh god the Doctor saying he's a friend of Nerys was incredible, amazing writing, so fucking funny, love that continuity

-- Shaun was great too, love his amiability

-- I liked the Meep being the twist villain, you could see it coming a mile away but I'm always a fan of these kinds of twists

-- I also loved that one of the hints was that Shaun's car wasn't affected by the energy weapons because during that scene I was like 'lol wtf why are their weapons so weak come on' and then 2 minutes later I got an explanation. Love when that happens

-- I liked that Sylvia chilled out a lot and is much better but still isn't a perfect parent (taking a moment before reassuring Donna that she does know how Donna feels about Rose eg), and Donna partially overcompensates with Rose because she didn't get enough praise from Sylvia, and Sylvia seemingly trying to make up for her unsupportiveness of Donna by being very supportive of Rose. Man I love how Davies writes people, yk?

-- I got teary when Donna got her memories back <333

-- RTD always showing the big dangerous effects of the aliens through the pov of innocent bystanders <3 Mainly the neighbour kid in this case.

-- UNIT's scientific consultant was great. I forget her name, but again I enjoy how RTD wrote her representation-wise. She does have a disability, she can't take the stairs and that's a plot point at one point, but she also has some awesome ways to help not just in spite of her disability but because of it. Again, a great balance between grounded and uplifting imo

-- Catherine Tate's performance as a half-timelord is just so fun <3

-- I really loved the revelation that Rose inherited some of the timelord stuff and so she helped save the day as well as keeping Donna alive longer, it was a great exciting moment

-- I was spoiled for the Doctor's line where he tells Donna he loves her and then goes 'oh do I say those things now?' and I was prepared to be annoyed at the gender essentialist implication that it's from ~the female doctor~ but in context it did not feel like a reference to Thirteen being more open, it just felt like the Doctor reflecting that this regeneration isn't exactly the same as Ten. I haven't seen Thirteen so I can't say what her personality is like exactly beyond some vague osmosis, but it could be read as a contrast since he just regenerated from her and that's the kind of stuff a new regeneration says in comparision to the last one. Which I dig.

-- I liked the psychic paper giving him a 'mistress' title and the Doctor saying "oh catch up." Actually in general I enjoyed the occasional Thirteen references, the Doctor was a woman, not anymore, cool. Good, light touch. I am primed to be easily annoyed at how sci-fi gender changes are handled, so I was pleasantly surprised.

-- Oh, I like that the 10 clone thing is gonna be an ongoing mystery over these three specials. I didn't like the concept when I'd heard about it (I was like c'mon can't we get Ten II up in here if we're going to bring Tennant back?) but it is the only way to have a Ten+Donna adventure at this point in the story without handwaving the aging and making it a multi-doctor story featuring 3 Doctors idgaf about, and it's def worth it, so I'm glad they're making it a mystery to be solved rather than giving an offhand easy explanation at least.

Cons:

-- This is on me, but having not watched the show aside from like 5 episodes in the last 15 years, I'm not sure which elements are RTD originals and which are from Moffat and/or Chibnall. Like the sonic screwdriver being able to draw in the air and create forcefields? I don't like that.

-- Also on that same note, UNIT's Judge Dredd swat team vibe? What's up with that? Not a fan, not sure who to blame tho.

-- But yeah this lack of knowledge of what came before left me feeling a little lost sometimes, unsure what I'm supposed to roll with and what's supposed to be new and cool. I'm hoping RTD does more of a clean new start overall because I'm not willing to watch previous DW for the sake of this series.

-- RTD's thing with... puns as (usually retrospective lol) foreshadowing? Always one of the sillier things about his writing, eg YANA, the Doctor-Donna being an actual thing rather than an idiosyncratic speech pattern, etc. Anyway he did it again with the binary/non-binary thing and I thought it was silly again.

-- Biggest con probably is that the resolution to the half-timelord thing was underwhelming and I realize this was meant to be a bit of a feminist statement but came across as gender essentialist as hell too. We're women so we understand we can just let the power go??? At LEAST make it crystal clear that this is only an option now that it's dispersed between two people and not something Donna could've done 15 years ago lol.

-- The editing felt a little off? Scenes cut off a hair too quickly, causing the pacing to feel rushed during a lot of it. There were a few good emotional and character scenes that had room to breathe ofc, but the action/plot scenes felt a little too crushed together, yk? Gimme half a second after a line of dialogue before you cut to the next scene pls.

-- Oh I was meh about the opening titles, but honestly that's just because I like how simple the old RTD credits were and these feel overdone in comparison. But that's a super minor complaint lol, I don't really care.

That's about it though honestly, I actually enjoyed it a lot more than I expected to. I mean I was vascillating hard between high and low hopes lol, but yk. I try to keep my expectations moderate, and those expectations were exceeded. Before this I wasn't sure if I was going to jump back in at all, but now I'm genuinely looking forward to the next special, and the next Doctor after this anniversary stuff!

#text post #marley on doctor who #doctor who spoilers

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ashesandhackles · 4 years ago

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Deconstructing Harry: The boy we meet in Philosopher's Stone to the man in Deathly Hallows

I have often seen fans talk about how nebulous Harry is as a character, especially in the earlier books. They can't make sense of who he is as a character and other more colourful, more actualized personalities take over our attention from any traits Harry might display. Harry becomes more defined for a lot of people OOTP onwards where he displays traits that sometimes make him unbearable or unlikable.

Harry, as we are introduced in PS, has a very little sense of self. He is narratively self deprecating or plays down his presence or skills, not that he is aware he has any. He grew up without any presence of him displayed in the house - no photos, no idea about his parents or what they look like or what really happened to them and discouraged from asking questions. Harry as we meet him is neglected, rootless about his identity and longs for escape. For him, every day is a battle against Dudley, who bullies him or Vernon, thus setting a worldview that never truly goes away: him vs adults. But just because Harry doesn't attach traits or values to self, does not mean he does not have it.

It's an effective narrative tool though - for Harry to be our eyes of the world. Only in later re-readings can we get a grasp of the traits that become more pronounced as books go on. Also, it's not surprising that Harry develops a better sense of self when he is removed from an abusive home.

Let me begin with this:

1. Harry is a fighter

One of the things that struck me in later re-readings is that how much of a fighter Harry is, from the very beginning. He will not lie down and take abuse. The narrative presents it as no big deal, because Harry doesn't assign any importance to it - it's every day life for him.

-Verbal standing up-

See his reaction to Uncle Vernon and the letter fiasco. He stands up for himself, even if it falls on deaf ears. "I want my letter - as it is mine!". Later on, in the same book, a completely befuddled 11 year old Harry stands up to Snape too, but in a politer way: "I think Hermione knows the answer. Why don't you try her?". He gets less polite with Snape as books go on. Harry's humor is something he employs liberally with Dudley when standing up to him - "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick" and we see this trait manifest into the sass we all know and love.

- Fight or flight-

He is remarkably good at "fighting himself out of tight corners" as Snape put it. And although Snape attributes it to luck and more talented friends, he is onto something about Harry's ability to worm out of tight corners. He lives moment to moment in a dangerous situation - relying on his nerve, very fast reflexes and athleticism. He is also able to notice things in an environment that will get him out of a quick pinch. You see this clearly in Department of Mysteries in Book 5 where he comes up with the idea to smash shelves, the mad idea to escape on a dragon, the ministry escape where he manipulates Runcorn's image (as he noticed how people were reacting to him) to create chaos and get the Muggleborns and the trio out, Chamber of Secrets when he instinctively understood the diary is the source of power and stabbed it.

Where does the athleticism and ability to spot dangerous situation come from? This boy has spent a decade cheeking Dudley and running away from his gang, spotting when he needs to get out of the way as "long experience had told him to be out of Uncle Vernon's arms reach" or "ducking when Aunt Petunia aimed a frying pan at his head". The instinct to see a dangerous situation develops over the course of the books in his adventures - to the point Harry unconsciously brings out his wand in Tottenham road without thinking too much about it. He is almost always wary and less quick to lower his wand.

When hiding/ escaping is not an option, Harry is not above physical fighting - despite how small and skinny he is in Book 1. Both he and Dudley fight for a chance to listen at the door when letter first arrives for Harry. Dudley wins the fight. Later on, Harry jumps Uncle Vernon from behind and hangs on to his neck to get his letter. He even does the same thing to the troll in the same book. ( Then over the course of series, we see him beat up Sirius in Book 3, Malfoy in Book 5, strangle Mundungus in Book 6 - all of these are related to his fury over the dead, so different context. But still).

- Manipulation/ Cunning-

11 year old Harry even tries sneakily - waking up early to get his letter (unfortunately didn't work). The other sneaky methods he has employed throughout the series is - not telling Dursleys at end of PS that he is not allowed magic at home, threatens Dudley with it in COS, not telling them Sirius is innocent to play up the threat of a murderous godfather to keep them accountable, and also the smooth way he negotiates with Uncle Vernon for Hogsmeade letter. ("Well it will be hard work, pretending to aunt Marge that I go to St Whatsits" ,"Knocking the stuffing out of me won't make Aunt Marge forget what I could tell her"). He similarly displays his negotiation and playing to what he knows about people with Slughorn in Book 6, Pettigrew in Book 7.

The scene with Slughorn is disturbing, with Harry coercing a drunk Slughorn to give up his memory. You can argue that this is the influence of Felix Felicis, but I think the potion acted more as facilitation. The disturbing way Harry brings up his mother's murder to unnerve Slughorn is his own doing. ("Voldemort stepped over my father's body towards mum" "I forgot - you liked her, didn't you?"). Again, in a life threatening situation, Harry plays to Pettigrew's latent guilt: "You are going to kill me? After I saved your life? You owe me Wormtail!"

2. Relational justice over abstract justice

Harry's concept of justice is relational and based on his high empathy for the underdog. He notices power dynamic in a situation and empathises with the victim. This is in contrast to Hermione, who has more abstract, bigger picture view of justice. It's no wonder that Hermione is the one who is the most political of the three.

His high empathy for the underdog and needing to stand up for them is because he feels responsiblility that no one should go through what he went through. He stands up for Neville in PS and encourages him to stand up for himself. When he sees his father bullying Snape, it is not about an abstract "this is wrong behavior". Harry goes further: "Harry knew what it felt like to be taunted among a circle of onlookers" , Harry focuses on young Snape's mismatched clothes because he himself knows what it's like to wear clothes that are not yours or ones that make you look ridiculous. His empathy extends to Voldemort too - understanding why he may not want to go back to his orphanage and desire to be in Hogwarts, wondering why Merope wouldn't stay alive for her son, his fixation with Voldemort's maimed soul in King's Cross chapter and later asking Voldemort to feel remorse (" I have seen what you will become otherwise"). Even his reaction to Dobby in COS - "Can't anyone help you? Can't I?" when Dobby talks about his slavery. Hermione is usually seeing the bigger picture, Harry sees the individual.

3. Pathological mistrust of adults

He is less likely of the trio to take an adult at their words or be assured by them when they say they are taking care of things. He has learnt, from a very young age, that he is always expected to take care of himself. And the times he does take things to adult, they consistently disappoint him - by patronising him or acting like he is a child, neither of which he has tolerance for or appreciates. This is why he takes to Sirius and Lupin, who exhibit neither of these communication patterns. In some ways, Mr Weasley too.

Umbridge's abuse of him for him is framed as a battle of wills between her and him, as if he is an equal. And he loses if he complains - "not giving her a satisfaction of knowing she got to me". Harry's worldview has always been - adult vs him.

His inability to trust adults even extends to the ability of adults he likes to look after themselves. While Sirius is understandably a wreck in OOTP, he has by and large followed Dumbledore's orders. This doesn't register with Harry (Ron points it out: "Sirius listens to Dumbledore even though he doesn't like what he hears") and Harry's fears about Sirius, excaberated by Sirius's tendency for recklessness, comes to play.

He even showed similar distrust in Lupin's judgement in taking a potion from Snape in POA ("Harry felt the urge to knock the goblet out of Lupin's hands" and tries to hint at Lupin that Snape will "do anything" for DADA job). And he shows this once again with the most magically powerful wizard he knows - Dumbledore. ("if I tell you to abandon me and save yourself, you must do so". Dumbledore has to insist on this before Harry nods reluctantly. It's also Dumbledore's wording, but this is a wizard Harry feels safe with almost entirely because of his power - and yet Harry cannot obey an order like this without reluctance). It's not about Harry's own ability to take care of them - he just innately cannot leave people to it.

4. Humor as a value and coping mechanism

Harry has an established coping mechanism by the time we are introduced to him - quip in the face of danger/ dark humor. There are repeated instances of Harry amusing himself with snarky comments in his head when things are really bad for him. Like in PS, when they are in the hut, Harry wonders if the roof will fall in and then thought that if it did fall in, he might be warmer. In the earlier books (before his growth), he seems to value Ron over Hermione simply because he is more "fun". Harry enjoys being around funny people like Ron, Weasley twins, later Ginny simply because there is some dark stuff happening with him and he needs "fun" people for semblance of normalcy, escape. In fact, this desire is so strong, he attaches it to his romantic relationships: Ginny is a "blissful oblivion" and times with her are "something out of someone else's life". His relationship with Cho failed because her coping mechanism is discussing her trauma and Harry's is escaping it.

-dealing with conflict with people he likes, small digression-

A part of his growing up in later books includes valuing Hermione as much he values Ron and we see it in display in HBP, where he is more willing to stand up for her to Ron (something he kind of did more quietly before in POA - "can't you give her a break?" ) and also get confrontational with her instead of using Ron as a buffer between them to fend off her more boisterous/ bossy tendencies. ("let him make up his mind" "skip the lecture" "don't nag" - Ron took the heat in earlier books. In HBP, Harry is more willing to be irritable with her in a day-to-day interaction - "I hope you enjoy yourself" he tells Hermione when she states her intention to investigate Half Blood Prince. Or when she tests the book - "Finished? Or do you want to see if it does backflips?" "Do you have rub it in Hermione, how do you think I feel now?" at the end of HBP. ) In OOTP, his best method to deal with her when she bothers him was lying, avoiding her nagging and if that doesn't work, explode and treat her to display of his temper. There is more to explore here, of course - even with regard to how he deals with Mrs Weasley in Book 4, 5 and the difference of him hugging her in Book 7.

5. Fascination with the dead/ a passive death wish

Harry feels remarkably little sense of betrayal knowing that he was set up to die by Dumbledore. His self sacrificing streak is rooted in his love, yes, but I also think Harry is a little bit too fascinated by death, not surprising considering most people he loved are dead. Him wanting the resurrection stone in DH, him obsessively spending time at Mirror of Erised (to the point he feels feverish and Ron thinking he looks strange) until Dumbledore stops him, him almost wanting to fail to learn a Patronus because he wants to hear his parents voice, the hearing of whispering voices in the Veil in OOTP which only Luna could hear apart from him, the scene at the grave where he almost wishes he was "lying under the snow" with his parents, the possession scene in the book of OOTP has him wishing to die so he can be with Sirius. You can almost argue the Harry has, in many moments, shown raw desire of death. In fact, him choosing to let go of the stone and not go looking for it is a big character decision for him.

I also want to address Harry's temper and how that develops over course of series, the implications of understanding the people he loved and put on pedestal are flawed - but I am afraid this post is already way too long. So I will leave that for some time later.

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chokiipng · 4 years ago

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Hay fever : Genshin various

a/n : suffering from seasonal allergies isn't fun . so instead of trying to do school work, i'm gonna write hcs to make myself feel better

character(s) : Xiao, Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe contents : fluff with a bit of crack (my specialty) + : reader has really bad seasonal allergies

Xiao :

he doesn't really understand tbh

he plays it off as a common cold at first and entrusts you with Verr, much to her annoyance. he didn't realize the true severity of the situation until a week had passed.

he's heard of seasonal allergies before, so it's not like he was entirely clueless, he just didn't know how to go about treating it.

because of this, he turned into a big ball of concern for the entirety of spring

he asked everyone he could for help, even that ginger haired harbinger (to which he had no clue since he basically lives on an iceberg)

this also happened to peek Zhongli's interest, who then took him to Bubu pharmacy to learn more. it took Xiao about 5 different interrogations to actually visit Bubu, he cursed himself internally for not checking there in the first place

of course, Baizhu laughed it off and informed the both of them on how allergies work, how they're triggered, and how to prevent/soothe them

if you sneezed/sniffled, he was immediately by your side with a tissue and some water. itchy eyes, he had a small bottle of eyedrops for you courtesy of Dr. Baizhu and Qiqi

it was amusing to say the least, watching a feared Yaksha running around frantically in order to soothe your allergies

of course, he soon picked up that it was because you went outside every goddamn day to complete commissions and to pick flowers for who knows who (Qiqi, you often found yourself picking herbs with her because who could say no to that face?)

he legit locked you in your room at Wangshuu Inn and did your commissions for you. he didn't want you in any pain, so he stayed with you when he finished all of his tasks

he didn't isolate you though, but if he takes you out he makes sure you take your allergy medicine (given by Qiqi, ty bby) and that you have a mask on

Diluc :

he never really experienced hay fever, but he knows the gist of it

he's heard stories of it from customers of the Angel's Share and was immensely grateful to the Archons for blessing him with immunity to seasonal allergies

but he wasn't prepared to catch you practically sneezing your guts out one morning

Diluc drops everything, much to Adelinde's horror, and orders for a box of tissues and water immediately. he whips out the blankets from under the couch that he knew you hid and props you on some pillows he fluffed in a panicked rush

the maids watch with a nervous chuckle as he runs around the mansion, completely forgetting about his shift at the Angel's Share and his nightly heroic duties

as soon as he calms down from the initial shock of how hard allergies hit you, he asks you how your feeling and if he can do anything

the next day he asks Donna (who stutters at his mere presence), who mind you is an employee at the Floral Whisper, since Flora isn't there herself about hay fever. he figured that people who worked at a flower shop would know about allergies caused by the pollen produced by flowers

he brings back medicine that you've been instructed to take daily as to lessen the affects of your allergies

despite his day duties, he offers to take up your daily commissions during the days you are physically unable to do them or just does them of his own volition

he trusts that the maids will take care of you in his stead

in the mean time, you're allowed to roam the city as you wish, but that's about it. he threatened Lawrence and Swan that they would feel the wrath of retribution if you stepped foot outside the city

Mondstadt was a land of eternal springtime, there was no way in hell he was letting you out of the city without his supervision

while all of this may be a bit much, he makes sure to let you know that this is just him caring for you. he doesn't want to seem overbearing and trusts that you know what's happening to your body and how to treat it

Kaeya :

he laughs at your demise

what did you expect ?

but he really is worrying on the inside

he makes sure to check in with Barbara just to make sure that you're not suffering from a lethal disease

once he knows that they're just seasonal allergies, (almost) all his worries subside and he sighs of relief

he notifies Jean beforehand (but sometimes forgets), he works considerably less during the time of your allergies since he doesn't really trust anyone else to take care of you

he also doesn't drink as much, surprising, he knows

he refrains from bringing you flowers as he usually does and instead spoils you with unnecessary affection

Kaeya doesn't worry as much since he puts faith in you that you know what's going on in your body. since they're seasonal allergies, he realizes that you must've gone through this before and know how to treat it

since you can't really cure it, you just act more cautious in the outdoors

he often accompanies you on your daily commissions and such, just to be sure that your okay. he takes over the moment you pause to sneeze or itch your nose even once

aside from this, he's the other reason why your allergies are unbearable

once they're all done and over, he teases you relentlessly about how reliant you were on him when in reality it was him doing your tasks of his own volition rather than you asking him. you told him several times that you could handle it, but he persisted nonetheless

he's more reasonable during your hay fever, and despite his unnecessary comments, you find it endearing

Albedo :

he is among the few men who are actually calm during the situation, but since when is he not?

he probably already has a remedy for you that greatly lessens the affect of your allergies

but even without it, he trusts that you know how to handle it

the only factor in here that would cause chaos-

is Klee

once Klee hears you sneeze all hell breaks loose in Albedo's workspace

she runs around everywhere looking for tissues and then ends up bringing Mondstadt's entire supply, which you and Albedo laugh nervously at

once Klee calms down, you explain the bare minimum of hay fever, which she manages to understand

while he has faith that you can treat it yourself, Albedo still recommends that you stay inside more rather than going out exploring and looking for chests, to which you sheepishly comply

Jean cannot thank you enough when it comes to Klee's behavior during this season, as Klee tends to spend more time at home with you and Albedo once you finish your commissions so that "you don't feel lonely!"

she even drew you a picture to show how much she cared!

if you can't sleep at night because of your allergies, Albedo (who is probably still up working) will gladly allow you to indulge in his studies or to just simply read with you until you fall asleep

he too is also happy that you managed to tame Klee

Childe :

this man has no idea what the fuck hay fever is

need I remind you that he grew up in the land of perpetual winter, hay fever doesn't even exist to him. unlike everyone else, he hasn't even heard of the concept

so when you hold a finger up during your weekly sparring, he pauses with a curious tilt of his head

he screams in horror as you sneeze out all of your bodily fluids not once, not twice, but three times

Childe calls off the spar and cradles you in your arms as if you're about to die

it's until he rushes you to Baizhu in a panicked frenzy that he realizes that its...a fever?

now Baizhu is a patient man, he had to raise a zombie child who basically loses her memory each time she wakes up and wields a sword/cryo abilities

but he was getting tired of Childe's endless questions quick.

Childe shrieks as the normally passive pharmacist slams his hands down on the counter with a sickeningly sweet smile

he ceases in his questions, apologizes for bothering him, and races back to the Northland Bank in a cold sweat

it takes you explaining it in a calm voice for him to finally understand it

and he takes this very seriously

while he knows that it's seasonal and that you've gone through it before, he can't help but worry for you

he coddles you, and he doesn't relent even if you tell him

he slaps a mask on you, takes away your fighting privileges, and even order his subordinates to keep an eye on you at all times

that is if he's not already

he clings

he's attached to you

he just wants you to feel better, and you appreciate it, but it can get a little too much sometimes

and while you do tell him this, the same situation happens every year when spring comes around and there's nothing you can do to stop it. Baizhu can't catch a break from the rowdy harbinger

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along-came-atsushi · 4 years ago

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BSD Mayoi’s Tarot Cards

I really liked BSD Mayoi’s approach to the tarot card theme and the beautiful artwork they put in there. Therefore, I decided to take a closer look at their meanings and to see if it fits with the chosen character.

All used cards belong to the Major Arcana tarot cards. The Major Arcana represent life lessons, karmic influences and big archetypical themes that influence a person’s life and the journey of their soul. They are the symbol of human consciousness and the key to life lessons. The Major Arcana include 21 numbered cards, starting with The Fool as the number 0. A Major Arcana in a tarot reading means that the person must reflect on the life lessons or that they are currently experiencing this time.

The tarot cards’ meanings and interpretations depend on and changes whether it’s upright or reversed. That means every card has positive (upright) and negative (reversed) meanings and their interpretations are heavily based on context. For example, The Fool in a reversed (negative) interpretation doesn’t simply mean that the person who gets the tarot reading is stupid, but that they might be in a point in their life where they have to decide something important and are reluctant to do so. Justice in an upright (positive) interpretation doesn’t simply mean that the person is righteous, and so on.

Besides their general meaning, the tarot cards also have a meaning for specific aspects of human life: health, spirituality, love and relationships, career and money. For this meta I’m focusing only on their general meaning.

I’m going to show and quote the character’s reaction to their assigned tarot cards first, then describe the card’s design, explain their general meaning and lastly compare it to the character’s personality, relationships and ability. The original cards’ description is based on Rider-Waite’s “Pictorial Key to the Tarot” card guide and can vary with other cards’ designs. Please note that Mayoi has either left out or changed some elements in favor of their artistic freedom.

All information in this meta has been gathered from my research of several internet sites. I really had fun with the way I wrote this meta, so if we’ll ever get more characters as tarot cards, I’d very much like to continue this series.

[Beware: Spoilers for the Hunting Dogs/Decay of Angels Arc!]

Atsushi – The Fool

Memo:

Nakajima Atsushi as The Fool tarot card. While initially surprised by the name of his card, after learning of its interpretations, he seems to be deeply moved as he looks back on his past.

Quotes: - “The name of this card, ‘The Fool’, surprised me at first, but I see it has positive meanings too! I'm kind of relieved...” - “It also stands for ‘freedom’. Hm... Compared to my old self, I can learn a lot of things, everyone from the Agency is by my side... and I can decide my own path...”.

Description:

The Fool usually gazes at the sky and the universe. Atsushi’s gaze is turned towards the viewer, probably a design decision. But he has his head lifted up towards the sky, still implying the original direction of The Fool’s gaze.

He carries his bag with a branch that rests on his shoulder and the bag contains all the things that he needs. Since it’s not big, it could mean that he either doesn’t need much or that he doesn’t own much to begin with. The white rose on his bag symbolizes purity and innocence. The white dog to his feet symbolizes loyalty and protection.

Normally, The Fool is seen to be at the edge of a cliff, unaware that he could fall into the unknown. Behind him is a mountain, symbolizing the challenges that are about to come. But he doesn’t care about these things right now, he’s focused on starting his journey and to learn the lessons that he came to learn.

Meanings and Interpretations:

- UPRIGHT: (new) beginnings, freedom/free-spirited, adventure, travel, originality, innocence, foolishness, carelessness, idealism, youth, spontaneity, lack of commitment.

- REVERSED: recklessness/risk-taking, carelessness, negligence, stupidity, distraction, apathy, irrationality, lack of fun/hope/faith, holding back.

Atsushi’s reaction at the meaning of his card is not surprising, since the word “fool” is not associated with positive meanings. The Fool in tarot is interpreted as the protagonist of a story and the Major Arcana is the path he must take, which is also called “The Fool’s Journey”. Along his way he meets new teachers and new life lessons and unveils the great mysteries of life. He eventually completes his journey reaching The World card.

Despite its name, The Fool is generally a positive card and the change it brings are seen as a welcome one. It indicates new beginnings, which means that someone is on the start of an exciting and unexpected adventure. On this adventure, The Fool may take a leap of faith, but will grow through this as a result. The adventure may not only be mental, but also physical, where The Fool has to travel to a place they’ve never been before.

Reversed, The Fool still means new beginnings, but it can signify that the person is reluctant to start their adventure or to jump into their new experience. It can indicate that the person is living in the moment, but that they behave recklessly towards others in their excitement.

~ ~ ~

This fits Atsushi, since he is the protagonist of BSD’s main story and his journey starts without him knowing about all the things that are about to come (positive and negative).

Atsushi’s past experiences in the orphanage as well as his isolated upbringing make him somewhat unaware and naïve about the world he lives in and its rules. He is unsure in his own capabilities and hesitates to take a new path unfolding before him (e.g., him joining the ADA). The new beginnings, as well as the dog symbolizing loyalty and protection could be a give and take symbolization for Atsushi. Meeting several characters in his life (especially the ADA members) offers him a new beginning, but he also stands in as a new beginning for these characters.

He is loyal and protective towards people who are important to him, but they also believe in him and are loyal and protective towards him, too. During his journey he takes a leap of faith in trusting in characters that were on the antagonizing side at first (Lucy, Akutagawa, Fitzgerald) and as a result, he grows through these interactions.

If possible, he likes to avoid doing tasks alone due to his lack of self-confidence and experience, which is shown when he questions himself, feels distressed or tries to avoid tough situations. Whenever the situation forces him to rely on himself (e.g., infiltrating Moby Dick) he comes out of it having learned a new lesson. His journey doesn’t only take place in his mind, but he has also physically traveled to a place where he has never been before (e.g., Standard Island).

Negative memories and experiences are something that hold him back throughout the story and make him hesitant in his decisions (e.g., the headmaster’s voice in his mind). He acts recklessly and careless in stressful situations, which causes him to tap into other characters’ traps (e.g., when he was under Q’s curse). During these situations he is not able to move on on his own and needs the help of others (e.g., Dazai scolding him). But he slowly realizes that he is now free from those past circumstances. He embraces the good things in his life and with this gradually moves on from his past.

Yosano – The Empress

Memo:

Yosano Akiko as The Empress tarot card. While she is not particularly interested in the divination aspect of tarot, she seems to have noticed the similarities between herself and The Empress.

Quotes: - “Tarot, yes... I am not at all interested in the overly uncertain aspects of divination, but The Empress has a rather beautiful design. I like it.” - “Apparently, The Empress is associated with vitality. Fufu, ‘vitality’. I like the sound of that.” - “I can only treat humans. And even then, I cannot treat all humans. I cannot control the vitality of the land like The Empress. Even so, I must do what I can.”

Description:

The Empress sits on a throne as representation of her dominion over growing things. She wields a scepter with her left hand, which represents her power over life. A shield is placed at her feet, the eagle on it is the heraldic emblem of the Holy Roman Empire. She wears a crown with stars, showing her connection to the mystical realm and the cycles of the natural world (usually there are twelve stars, symbolizing the twelve months of the year and the twelve planets).

Golden wheat grows in the foreground, framing her figure and indicating the abundance of harvest. The background is adorned with mountains, instead of a forest as in the original design. The depiction of nature in The Empress’ card signifies her connection with Mother Earth and life itself. She rejuvenates herself by the energy of nature.

The figure of The Empress is often depicted as a pregnant woman, her robe is patterned with pomegranates, the symbol of fertility. She is also mostly adorned with the symbol of Venus (that is sometimes shown on the shield instead of the eagle), which is the epitome of love, creativity, fertility, beauty and grace.

Meanings and Interpretations:

- UPRIGHT: Pregnancy, fertility, motherhood, sensuality, nurturing, creativity, beauty, femininity, nature, harmony, art, abundance.

- REVERSED: Insecurity, infertility, lack of confidence, lack of growth, overbearing tendencies, disharmony, negligence, creative block, dependence on others.

The Empress represents femininity and motherhood. Parents-to-be (mothers as well as fathers) who receive this card are encouraged to build on their communication with their children and to show them their nurturing side. However, even if the person is not a parent The Empress’ message stays the same.

It tells you to embrace your softer side and to listen to your emotions and intuition. People, especially those in need of empathy and compassion, will be drawn to you and you will be able to provide them with your nurturing. Not only does The Empress represent the creation of life, but also of romance, art or business. She symbolizes the emergence of an idea and the need to be receptive to change.

When The Empress appears reversed it tells you to embrace your feminine qualities. This also applies to men, as it is believed in tarot that all humans have masculine and feminine energies that need to be brought into balance. It signifies that a person may have been suppressing or neglecting their feminine side that needs to be embraced.

A person may be too focused on the material and mental aspects of their life and has disregarded the emotional and spiritual aspects. They may be putting the needs of others before their own or they may feel emotionally overwhelmed, so that they neglect the people important to them. It is advised to shift your focus in these situations and to ground yourself to get back to your inner balance.

~ ~ ~

Yosano is not associated with pregnancy or motherhood per se (since she is not a mother), but her role as a doctor and her ability can be interpreted symbolically in that way. She “creates” life or “gives birth” by bringing people back to life. She “nurtures” life by healing severe wounds.

This fits with her story arc, because she started her medical career already in her childhood. What began as a forced work during the war, turned out be a good blessing at first. The soldiers were in awe with her and her restoring ability, they were thankful and drawn to her nurturing side.

However, this turned out to be seen as the exact opposite, when the soldiers gradually experienced more trauma due to them being brought back to life over and over again. The same people now behaved hostile towards Yosano, involuntarily earning her the title “the angel of death”.

This trauma and abuse led to Yosano suffering herself, because she was forced to put the need of others before her own. This then led to her despising her own life and ability. She became visibly miserable and just a shell of who she once was, believing that she only brought demise to other people.

It was only when Fukuzawa and Ranpo found her that she started to gain hope and strength, because she was told that they were not interested in her ability, but in her kindness for others.This was the start for Yosano to realize that it’s not her supernatural ability alone, but also her mind and intentions that can help people, and marks the start of her career as the ADA’s doctor (even without her ability she is still a doctor and even without that she still values life and wants to save it).

Through her experiences she now knows the limits of her own abilities (both her supernatural ability and her abilities as a doctor), which can be seen in her reaction to her card. She still hasn’t given up on her work and duty, despite her negative memories. She won’t be losing track of herself, because she now has people at her side who truly care for her.

Kenji – The Chariot

Memo:

Miyazawa Kenji as The Chariot tarot card. He seems very interested in the illustrations of the brave horses and their chariot. The two horses depicted on the card remind him of his days back in Ihatov.

Quotes: - “The Chariot looks so valiant! And it has two horses! I bet they're good horses.” - “Apparently, one of the meanings of The Chariot is ‘the ability to take action’. Hmm~, I can't really tell, but what do you think? Do I have that?” - “I think it would be so fun if I could do my detective work with horses like the boy on this card! If I worked with horses, I feel like I'd be able to do a lot more!”

Description:

Kenji is depicted as armored warrior. His laurel crown (although heavily altered in design) symbolize victory, success and spiritual evolution. The figure of The Chariot usually stands tall inside his chariot. In Kenji’s case that has been upgraded and exaggerated to him standing with one foot on the foreside and pointing with one finger ahead. A heavy indication of taking action and moving forward.

In front of the chariot are two horses, which represent positive and negative opposing forces and duality. The two horses pull in different and opposing directions, yet The Chariot uses his willpower and sheer resolve to move them in the direction that he wants. He doesn’t need to hold reins to move, instead he controls it through the strength of his will and mind.

In the original card’s design, the armor of The Chariot is decorated with crescent moons, which represent what is coming into being, a tunic with a square, representing the strength of will and other alchemical symbols that are a representation of spiritual transformation.

The canopy above his head is adorned with six pointed stars that indicate his connection to the celestial world and the divine will. Instead of horses, two sphinxes are in the foreground. A city with a large river can be seen behind The Chariot, symbolizing the need to be in flow with the rhythm of life while charging ahead towards your goals.

Meanings and Interpretations:

- UPRIGHT: victory, overcoming obstacles, success, ambition, determination/willpower, control, self-discipline, hard work and focus, action.

- REVERSED: forcefulness, lack of direction, lack of self-control, powerlessness, aggression, coercion, being blocked by obstacles, opposition.

The Chariot upright represents overcoming obstacles through determination, focus and willpower. The person may feel motivated, ambitious and in control, therefore they are encouraged to go for what they want. There may be challenges and obstacles in The Chariot’s path, but if you stay focused and believe in your own abilities, you will be able to overcome these. The Chariot can also represent travel, as it is a means of transportation.

People who receive this card may feel like they are fighting a battle and because of that act defensively or aggressively to hide that they are emotionally vulnerable at the moment. In this case, you are encouraged to find balance between the heart and the mind. The Chariot also indicates success in sports and competitions.

The Chariot reversed means that a person may feel powerless and lack direction and confidence. They may feel put upon by others or the circumstances in their life. This can lead to anger and frustration as well as uncontrolled aggression. The Chariot advises you that you need to take control of your own destiny and to not let outside forces determine your path.

It indicates that you need to set boundaries and stick to them and to be clear about the time and resources you are willing to dedicate to others. If people in your life become too needy and demanding the person is advised to take back their own power.

~ ~ ~

Kenji starts his story by moving from the land to the city. His decision to leave his family and village, live in the city and to work for the ADA can be interpreted as him moving forward in a physical and spiritual sense. He is willing to challenge his new surroundings and grows through this as a result.

He has shown to be very confident in himself and his abilities, being the most optimistic of the group and to always look on the positive side of things. Tough situations do not worry him much, because he believes the outcome will work out just fine.This determination also transfers to other characters when they are with him and should they find themselves in a distressed situation (e.g., when he had his mission with Atsushi who was constantly worried about how Kenji does his work).

Being able to control something with his pure willpower could also be interpreted as an allusion to his supernatural ability that allows him to lift up cars or tear down stone walls on a whim. However, Kenji’s ability relies on the fact that he needs to be hungry in order to use it and the ADA members also advise to not disturb him when he is sleeping, because he will get irritated and aggressive in that state.

Kenji has been shown to not only be able to get over physical obstacles, thanks to his ability (e.g., bringing Fukuzawa out of the hospital). He is also able to encourage his peers to get over mental obstacles (e.g., his speech to the ADA when they flee from the HD).

Kunikida – Justice

Memo:

Kunikida Doppo as the Justice tarot card. Having always stood for justice and ideals, Kunikida has a favorable impression of this card.

Quotes: - “Justice... What a well-named card. The sword and scale illustrations aren't bad either.” - “I have no desire to sit on a throne, but I value fairness, which is one of the meanings this card holds. I want to uphold this as I carry out my Agency duties.”

Description:

Kunikida as the figure of Justice sits on a throne, holding a sword in his right hand and scales in his left hand. The sword points upwards, symbolizing a firm and final decision. Its double-edged blade is a reminder that our actions always carry consequences. The scales show that intuition must always balance logic and are a symbol of impartiality.

He wears a crown with a small square on it, a representation of well-ordered thoughts. His white shoes looking from underneath his robe also symbolize that our actions have spiritual consequences.

The figure of Justice sometimes is depicted in front of a loosely hung purple veil, which signifies compassion. Two pillars frame the figure, symbolizing balance, law and structure.

Meanings and Interpretations:

- UPRIGHT: justice, karmic justice, consequences, legal disputes, law, truth, honesty, integrity, cause and effect, life lessons, fairness.

- REVERSED: injustice, karmic retribution, dishonesty, corruption, lack of accountability, dishonesty, unfairness, karmic avoidance.

In an upright context, the Justice tarot card is a representation of karmic justice, legal matters, cause and effect. Justice symbolizes truth and integrity and can imply that a person may feel the urge to speak out the truth. This person values honesty and integrity in others, too.

Justice also relates to balance and signifies that an event may occur that is beyond a person’s control or their own making. In these moments Justice encourages the person to keep themself level-headed as the events unfold. It also signifies that a person is about to make a choice and that they are currently weighing all their options. In legal matters, this card shows that the outcome will be a fair and balanced result.

Reversed, Justice means injustice and the avoidance of karmic justice. It symbolizes that a person has been treated unjustly or that they are in a situation where they are being affected unfairly by the choices and actions of others. The person may feel victimized or blamed for something that isn’t their fault. Justice reminds the person to still keep their balance. If the person created the situation themself, it is advised to think about how they can react to that situation. It also signifies that the person must be accountable, if they created the situation by bad choices and actions. This means that the person should not blame others and to be more self-aware.

It can also symbolize dishonesty and that a person should not lie their way out of something or try to justify it. The person may also have hardline views in their life and prejudices the people around them. In legal matters, Justice indicates that the result will be one of injustice or that the outcome may not what the person has hoped for.

~ ~ ~

Kunikida is practically the personification of justice of all of the ADA members and justice is also something that he has been shown to think about a lot. He takes his work very professional and serious and tries to bring every case to a fair result. If he isn’t able to save people, he calls out the unfairness of the situation (e.g. when he tried to save the abducted victims in the Azure Messenger case.) This shows that he feels responsible and guilty even for events that were out of his control.

He seems to try to balance his own life by sticking to his written ideals and calls others out shouldn’t they behave in the same way (e.g. mostly seen when Dazai is neglecting his work). If he notices that people are distressed during a bad situation, he reminds them to keep their balance or he tells them to think about what they can do (e.g. to Atsushi when the Black Lizard attacked the ADA office). But he also reminds himself about these things (e.g., seen when he was told by Jouno that he felt relieved about the ADA getting caught and with this his ideals falling apart. But then he got back to his knees and defended the ADA, so that they could escape.)

When Kunikida meets new people, he keeps up his guard and distance at first, and holds prejudices about them (e.g. when he met Dazai, Atsushi and Kyouka). This can lead to him having a wrong first impression of people (negative and positive) and with this easily fall into traps (e.g., when he did not realize that Sasaki was the Azure Messenger).

This implies that he first weighs to be careful about whom he trusts (in this case a new colleague), and changes his mind about them later, once they have proven to be trustworthy.

Tanizaki – Temperance

Memo:

Tanizaki Junichiro as the Temperance tarot card. While he initially tilted his head at the card's rather strange design, he faces its mystical aura head-on. He seems to have interpreted the card's meaning in his own way.

Quotes: - “The person on this card is pouring liquid from one cup into another... What on earth for?” - “So, Temperance also means ‘harmony’. Hm, am I harmonic? Oh, sometimes I sort things out when there's a commotion at the office... so I guess I am?” - “Hmm, so it means ‘devotion’ too... The only person I'm devoted to is Naomi. To me, Naomi is irreplaceable.”

Description:

Tanizaki balances himself with one foot on land, representing the need to stay grounded and the other in the water, representing the need to be in flow. The water he pours between two cups are the symbol of the flow and alchemy of life. This was a standard symbol of Temperance as one of the cardinal virtues, as it represents the dilution of wine with water.

In many decks, the figure of Temperance is depicted as winged angel, but instead we see two feathers, probably meant as surrogate of the angel’s wings. The background shows a path leading to a mountain with a golden crown on top, but this depiction has been changed in Tanizaki’s card and the golden crown rests upon his own head instead. The crown is a symbol of taking the higher path and staying true to one’s meaning and purpose in life.

Meanings and Interpretations:

- UPRIGHT: Balance, peace, patience, moderation, inner calm, perspective, tranquility, harmonious relationships, soulmates, purpose.

- REVERSED: Imbalance, self-indulgence, excess, clashing, lack of perspective, discord, antagonism, recklessness, hastiness, self-healing, re-alignment.

Upright, Temperance indicates that a person has found their inner calm and peace. They have a good perspective on things and care about harmonious relationships. It signifies feeling content and having found tranquility. Temperance shows that a person is in touch with who they are inside and what they value.

They have their own moral compass and have learned not to get dragged into other people’s conflicts. Minor issues won’t knock them off balance, instead they adapt to the situation with a clear mind and a calm heart. Figuring out your aspirations and your goals is easier for people who get this card in their readings.

In a reversed position, Temperance means imbalance. It signifies that a person behaves in a reckless manner. The person may have lost touch with their inner calm and peace, which leads to them seeking gratification in harmful and risky ways (like alcohol, drug use or gambling).

It can also mean that the person has a lack of harmony with the people in their life and due to this the person may lash out to people close to them, which then causes them to get dragged into drama. In these situations, it is advised to take a step back and look at how you are behaving, because you may lack to see the bigger picture. Examining the root causes and working to resolve them is the way back to your inner calm and peace.

~ ~ ~

Tanizaki appears to be one of the calmest people in the ADA. He does not get into quarrels with others, even if he is wary or hesitant about their ideas (e.g., giving in to Naomi’s demands and shenanigans, hesitating and getting tricked by Dazai to participate in Atsushi’s entrance exam).

Although, he is nervous on missions, he still takes them on with a clear mind and a professional approach. Many missions are entrusted to him alone, showing that people know that he can handle the situation just well.

His decision to work for the ADA could imply that he has found his goal and his purpose in life. His dedication to Naomi shows that he is patient and calm, and that he cares deeply for a harmonious relationship between them. Keeping her safe above all things indicates that he’s sees it as his purpose in his life, too.

However, Naomi is also his biggest weak point. Whenever she is in danger or hurt, Tanizaki gets knocked off his balance and inner calm. These situations make him hastily jump into actions and due to this he becomes an easy target for others (e.g., when he attacked Higuchi out of anger, he didn’t notice Akutagawa; when he was about to kill Mori to save Fukuzawa, he tapped into Kouyou’s trap).

Even though this does not only concern Naomi’s well-being, as he has also been shown to make rush conclusions, if other people he cares about are in danger or in a predicament (e.g., when Fukuzawa was about to die due to cannibalism; offering to join PM as exchange instead of Yosano). His work as a detective on this aspect lets him also get regularly dragged into other people’s drama, either the drama of clients or the drama of other ADA members.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sources: www.biddytarot.com | www.thetarotguide.com | https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Major_Arcana

#atsushi nakajima bsd #akiko yosano bsd #kenji miyazawa bsd #doppo kunikida bsd #junichiro tanizaki bsd #Atsushi Nakajima #Akiko Yosano #Kenji Miyazawa #Doppo Kunikida #Junichiro Tanizaki #bsd meta #bsd analysis #Bungou Stray Dogs #bsd mayoi

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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 5 years ago

Note

In these apparently trying times of "lack of content" I was wondering if we could get a glimpse behind the tablet and see how you write! Could you talk about your process and how you keep track of things and parse out your story? Do you storyboard or write rigorous notes? Is it all in your head? I am super curious about your system.

Oh yikes I’m about to disappoint a lot of people.

Okay, here’s the thing - I cannot physically keep notes because I get distracted and forget to write things down. I’ve tried keeping notebooks for WD!Steven stuff and I have come to accept that it’s only for show. I barely use it. I cannot use my memory on the effort of writing notes - I’d much rather use that energy to remember things in my head.

I brute-force everything through my mind palace. My mind... house... mindshack.

My process is simple:

Step 1) THINK

I constantly get asks that I feel might be good for the comics. I’ve made posts on this before but the main way I decide if I’ll use an ask is:

Is the ask addressed explicitly to Steven (or another character?)

Is the ask not giving away any fourth-wall-breaking information?

Is the ask actually ASKING Steven an open-ended question or TELLING Steven to do something?

If the ask is too vague (”so what do u like”) or gives away too much (“Steven don’t u think ur actually half-human? If Rose had a baby it would be half gem half human. Wouldn’t that be the same as u? You should ask Rose about a gem named Spinel I bet she would freak out!!!!!”) or if the ask is just pushing for Steven to do something instead of asking (”go to the moon base!”) then I almost always ignore it.

Step 2) Storyboard!

After choosing a question, I’ll sit and… stare at my desk/the wall/twitter without seeing it and instead storyboard the entire comic in my head. Sometimes this happens in a matter of minutes. Sometimes I’ll work it over in my mind’s eye for days before I like it. This includes the dialogue.

Yes, I do this while driving. I have an hour drive to work. No, I have never been in an accident. My autopilot works really well. I guess. Probably. I often have no memory of the actual drive itself but the comic gets written.

Step 3) Sketch!

Afterwards I go into my drawing program (MediBang Paint) and sketch out each individual panel on a layer. Sometimes the sketches are detailed. Sometimes they are just sloppy action lines to remind me what I’m going for.

I script in my head WHILE I’m drawing the sketches. I try out different lines as I go through each panel and see what fits the most. This sketching process takes about 3-5 minutes per panel.

Step 4) Lineart!

After I’ve sketched at least 50% of the comic, I go back in and start doing lineart. I will do this mindlessly - it is only at this point that I allow myself to listen to a podcast, or music, or have a YouTube video running while I draw. (I cannot sketch/storyboard/script with any sort of noise on. Has to be dead silent.)

The initial lineart process takes about 10 minutes per panel if the panel is simple like the one above. If I go through the process of adding necessary details, patterns, or have to create phone background detail, or draw a background in general, then it will obviously take longer.

If I do color comics, it takes 3 times as long which is why I hate coloring.

For the Lapis arc I also added tones. It was not as annoying as coloring, but it still took me twice as long as an average panel because there was so much layering to be done between the water/lapis’ wings/backgrounds. It was not fun.

Step 5) Dialogue

After I finish the lines for ALL the panels, or at least 50%, I start going back in and finally adding dialogue and details. I do the dialogue all at once because it allows me to view the flow more naturally. I end up reading and re-reading the panels several times to make sure there are no repeating words and that it flows more or less like a normal conversation would.

This takes about… eh… an hour or so for an average 20-panel comic?

The bulk of my editing is done at this stage. I will go back through and re-read the finished comic several times and try to weed out weird details or typos.

If I find none, I post it to Patreon, because it’s a guarantee that I will find 3 more immediately afterwards. That’s how posting art to social media works. Also, many of my Patreon patrons are usually kind enough to point out any typos I’ve missed. (MediBang doesn’t have a spellcheck so don’t judge me too harshly…)

And that’s….. it. I post to Patreon, make any last-minute fixes if I have to, and then queue everything to tapas and tumblr.

And then I immediately begin to worry about the next comic. Because… that’s how it works.

I understand it’s not exactly a professional process. That’s because I’m not a professional! I’m self-taught, and this comic is meant to be for fun, not for profit. If I make a Season-finale comic or a season-start comic, I typically go through the same steps, except I add thumbnailing to the mix (drawing tiny copies of the pages on post-it notes to see how many pages I can fix it to.)

Hope that was… educational? I don’t know. Either way…

#Anonymous #chekhov answers #process #how to #faq

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alia-turin · 4 years ago

Text

It has been a very very long week and I was writing and writing this chapter and it did not seem to end. Honestly I would have made that the final chapter but then it just became endless so I will probably write jus another one sort of as an epilogue.

I hope you enjoy y’all.

PLEASE NOTE: This chapter is 80% NSFW and there is a warming for blindfolding, some lighe dom/sub undertones and ice play. Fic Title: Somewhere in Time: Chapter 8 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 Rating: Explicit Fandom: The Witcher Relationship: Caranthir Ar-Feiniel/Original Female Character(s)

Aine pulled the furs to her chin. She wasn’t cold, the fire was burning as hot as possible and the bedroom was small, but she couldn’t sleep. She pressed a finger against her lips, still feeling his touch there. The way her heart was beating when she felt him close to her, when he pressed himself against her...that was what kept her awake. That and how much she misunderstood him prior to the events this morning. She had no idea if she had done something or he did it on purpose, showing her things in his mind that shocked her. If it was her, it was not on purpose and probably she even owed him an apology even if she had no idea what to apologize for, if it was him...why?

She thought about what she saw for the rest of the day and now half of the night her mind was still going through the images. Aine didn’t fully understand all of them, those were his memories, that much she knew, but it all looked like paintings and she had to figure out what exactly the painting meant. She saw the terror, the pain he had inflicted. But there was more. She saw the confused boy, the young man who had lost someone he loved and that loss turning into anger. He was violence, but he never hurt her despite her worst fears.

She rolled to her side.

What if she had allowed him to do what he wanted today...she wanted him, why wouldn’t she? He was handsome, he saved her life, even if it was under the strangest circumstances and now she could even understand him. All she had to do today was just to allow him what he started. She didn’t want to be hurt. Not again. She wanted him, but not for one night, that was pointless.

She rolled to her other side.

Two different men. The same way he said that the red haired woman from his memories was different from her, so was…

Accidentally or on purpose she knew some of his most intimate moments, there was no denying that and despite everything she understood. They were very different from each other, but somehow the same. Having a family, but not really. Not having the worst possible life, but never the life they actually wanted...

She got out of the bed, didn’t even bother to get dressed, just wrapped the furs around herself.

Caranthir was reading a book, or more like looking at a book. He had been starting every sentence multiple times because the words just did not reach his brain. All he could think was how stupid he was today. Aine was too inexperienced and that was too powerful magic for her. He didn’t have an explanation of what exactly went wrong, beside the fact he should have known. No, that wasn’t what bothered him, her stopping him. He was glad she did, he wasn’t sure he could treat her gently, the way he wanted to treat her. Was he even capable of that? Did he even know what it meant to be with someone not just mindlessly chasing his pleasure and some physical relief.

“Can we talk?” he lifted his head, Aine standing by the stairs, her body wrapped with a blanket. She stepped closer to him, stopping on the opposite side of his desk. “I...know why you act the way you act. I’m not sure I understand it, but I saw your memories.”

“You were not supposed to see that.” he interrupted her. He didn’t want to talk with her about how he killed and worse. He knew very well none of his memories were pleasant, they were not pleasant to him, they couldn’t possibly be pleasant to someone else.

“I wasn’t, but I did.” She pulled the blanket closer to her as if she was cold. “I...pushed you because I told you that you cannot be nice to me and then shut down. I was scared.” he didn’t say anything, only watched and listened, who wouldn’t be scared honestly? And he understood very well what she meant about him being warm one moment and then cold the next. If he had social skills he would be one or the other. “I like you.”

He tilted his head. It wasn’t the first time someone said that to him, but in his opinion women liked the idea of him more than they liked him. He was a navigator, a red rider, all of these attractive in everyone’s mind. He knew she didn’t care about any of that. He knew she saw him for exactly who he was, physically and otherwise and that was relief and a big problem at the same time.

“I saw your life. I owe you something in return, probably an explanation.” he didn’t answer, still not sure what to say. He did not feel as if she owed him something, but he was not going to stop her. If anything he owed her an explanation, maybe an apology for being rash and irresponsible, pushing her to do something because he found it fun without thinking of the consequences “There was an elf. Years ago, when I still lived in my father's house. He was nice to me.” she stopped, he wanted and didn’t want to know what nice meant in that sentence. “He thought that by being close to me, he would win favour, but he did not understand that my father saw me as a bit more than a servant. He figured it out.”

“I have little use of you.” he finally said immediately realizing how bad that sounded. “What I meant is that I have no interest in using you.”

“I know. I...saw as much.” there it was. She said it. Took that off her shoulders. “This is why I pushed you away today. Not because of what I saw but because I started feeling for you and you being the way you were well...I don’t want to be one night entertainment.” she looked at him, she couldn’t live all her life in fear of what happened before and the same was true for him.

She let the blanket drop around her feet, leaving her naked in front of him.

Caranthir felt his jaw drop. That he did not expect. He watched her naked shape, the candles and the fire from the room dancing over her skin and hair. That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? For weeks now, but why couldn’t he move or say something?

“This is embarrassing, I thought…'' She started talking, her arms trying now to cover her nakedness and also reaching down for the furs, but Caranthir moved faster, getting himself in front of her and grabbing her arms before she could do it.

“You don’t need to do that for my benefit.” he moved her arms out of the way, his eyes tracing the shape of her collarbones, her breasts, her hips. If she were to stop him now, at the very least he wanted to memorize that view.

“I want you.” she answered as she stepped on her tip toes and kissed him. He responded, opening his mouth but taking over the kiss, trying to steal the breath from her but he suddenly pulled out.

“What…” she looked at him puzzled.

“Nothing…” he stepped back his eyes on her body again. He didn’t want to cause himself to her. She was too...pure for him. “You need to know something. I’m not gentle, I’m not sure I know how to be...nice.”

“I saw that.” she responded, her eyes not leaving his. He didn’t think she saw any of it, but maybe he had been too focused on stopping her that she had seen more than he expected. “I have seen…” he placed his finger on her lips.

“And you are not like them to me, but I don’t think I know any other way.” he pressed himself against the desk and pulled her closer, her belly rubbing against his growing erection. He wrapped his arms around her, letting his hands rest on her lower back. “Do you trust me?” he pulled her even closer to himself, frustrated at all the clothes he was wearing. She hesitated for a second but nodded. That was all he needed.

Aine felt his hand slide down to her ass, but he didn’t stop, he leaned forward and grabbed her hips, lifting her up and turning both of them around, letting her sit on the desk. She wanted to kiss him, she needed the closeness. He took a small step back, and then pulled his shirt off, almost as if he was getting changed, there was nothing seductive in his action, just a task he had to do. Aine couldn’t help herself but stare at his body, she knew he was well built, she could see that much even under the clothes, but now seeing the hardness of his chest, the defined lines around his abs...and the tattoos. She had seen the tattoos that started at his neck and those on his fingers and hands, but didn’t think they covered his whole torso, arms and parts of his legs. There were also the scars, less visible on his skin due to the tattoos but they were still there, the same scars as the ones on his face.

She couldn’t control herself and reached for his chest, her finger tracing a few black lines of the unknown pattern on his skin.

“What does it mean?” she asked as her finger continued.

“This one is a spell.” he grabbed her hand and guided her through his skin. “This stops other mages from putting tracking spells on me, like the one I put on you.” he moved her finger just below his chest. “This one protects from certain curses.” he continued pushing her finger down over his abs until he stopped where his belt was. She tried to reach for his belt but he held her hand away.

“Patience.” He didn't say that to her, mostly to himself. He had never taken so much time, if it were someone else he would be half way through now. But he wanted to feel her, every single part of her and wanted her to feel him. He wasn’t worried about her seeing him, she already did and he liked what he saw in her eyes. He might be making that up of course but she accepted him, she didn’t stare at his scars as if he was a freak, when her fingers touched them she didn’t even pull away...she just accepted him and that was a bigger turn on for him than almost anything else.

He pushed her on the desk and turned her so her length was on the length of the desk. He didn’t follow her, just walked around and reached for the drawer on the opposite side.

“What are you…” Aine lifted herself looking at him puzzled.

“Trust me.” he pulled the black fabric from the drawer and walked all the way behind her. “Just relaxed.”

He placed the fabric over her eyes and tired it at the back. He had blindfolded women before, it was his way to deal with them not seeing him, not looking at him. This was different. It wasn’t about her seeing him, they were past that, he just liked seeing her trust him, allowing him…

Aine hoped that was not a mistake and she wouldn’t wake up tomorrow regretting everything, or even worse, alone in the bed with him just gone somewhere, forgetting about her. She couldn’t see anything, but her hearing felt somewhat sharper, probably just an illusion from the senula deprivation. She could hear the wood in the fire burning, even the wind howling outside, but nothing from Caranthir until she felt his hands around her ankles, pulling her so her ass was almost at the edge of the desk and her feet hanging low. Then she felt his hands on her inner thigh spreading her open, redness creeping through her skin realizing he was standing right in front of her with her legs wide spread. What felt even more embarrassing was that she had no idea where his eyes were, for all she knew he could be staring at the bookshelves behind her.

“Caranthir?'' All she needed was a sound from him, just to know exactly where he was, but no response followed. However, she did feel his lips kissing just below her bellybutton, her stomach curling in a ball by the surprised sensation. Second kiss didn’t follow, but that was enough to make the heat between her legs almost intolerable. She tried to push her legs together but he placed his hands on her knees and stopped her. Not a word followed, she couldn’t decide what was more tortuous, not knowing where his eyes were looking, or the absolute silence from him.

Next thing she felt was his hands cupping her breasts, unlike the kiss that was not soft and gentle, that felt more like what she expected from him, rough, but still pleasant. He moved one hand away, just to replace it with his mouth on her nipple, his tongue licking it as her body arched looking for some sort of friction in the empty air. She moaned, enjoying the sensation, but also needing more, the cool air she can feel between her legs just reminding her about the emptiness there.

He moved his other hand away, his mouth replacing it as well, his tongue flicking at teasing, but not giving her any release just building even more need, until he moved away again, Aine moaning this time in frustration, as even his teasing was better than nothing at all. She felt something familiar, a tingling on her skin - magic and that was not coming from here.

“Caranthir, what…” she couldn’t finish. He placed his finger on her lips, again not even a sound from him. He placed a soft kiss just below her jawbone, another one further down, so tender, and gentle, unlike the next one, where he kissed but then sank his teeth in the middle of her neck and the next one over her collarbones where he bit the sensitive skin again. Next thing she felt was something cold against her neck, just where he was kissing, it felt like ice or snow. She could feel the wet trail it left as he moved it down, to where his teeth had sunk a moment ago, leaving her skin cold and burning at the same time. Aine moaned and this time she could hear him smirk, she could almost imagine the satisfaction on his face.

Caranthir watched her body react to the ice in his hand. He placed the cold cube above her breasts, sliding it slowly to her cleavage and further down. He moved the ice away, casting more of the spell to compensate for what had been lost by the warmth of her skin, but used his tongue to lick the wet trail the ice had left. She moaned, her body arching toward him desperately looking for a contact and he was doing his best not to allow her any contact but what he was giving her now.

He pulled away just for a second but then moved back to her right nipple taking it in his mouth and sucking as he slid the ice down her cleavage again, but continued down slowly leaving the ice on top of her belly button to melt.

“Caranthir…” this time it wasn’t a question it was a moan and he could feel it straight between his legs. He wanted to hear that again and again, but when he was in her. He stopped for a second, no, he was determined to take his time, this was different.

He stepped back watching her chest rise and fall, breathing heavily from, the ice on her belly almost melted, cold water glistering over her skin. His gaze stopped between her legs, he could see the wetness, his tongue running over his own lips, not wanting to take any longer. This game was almost as tortuous to him as it probably was to her. He needed to feel her, the same way he had felt her skin against his when he was teaching her, but less innocent, more primal.

Aine’s body was hot and cold at the same time, she could feel the freezing water running down her belly. Suddenly she felt his finger between her legs, the coldness of his skin surprised her and by insitic she tried to pull her legs together but he stopped her with his other hand. He didn’t push his finger in her, which was frustrating, just ran it around her entrance, his touch almost gentle, pleasant, but was not helping her in any way, on purpose stopping just before he could provide any sort of actual release.

That ended as well, more silence followed, seconds but the anticipation made it feels like minutes. She thought she could hear clothes, maybe leather, but the sound was so faint that she could not decide if at that point her mind was playing tricks on her, maybe it was her wanting to hear that and then feel him on top of her, the warmth of his skin pressed against hers. Again there were the goosebumps on her skin from magic, her brain just going in complete overload, what now? She felt Caranthir hands on her hips, slowly sliding up to her waist, smearing the now warm water under his touch, until his hands reached to her ribs and he slid his grip under her, pulling her into sitting position. Next thing she knew he dragged her even further to the edge of his desk, she was expecting to step on the ground any moment, but that never happened, there was nothing under her feet, just that tingling magic sensation, the feeling of falling and a low surprised scream escaped her mouth.

Suddenly she was sitting on something again, however it felt different. It wasn’t the hard, uncomfortable desk, her knees felt something soft, but what she was different, warm, she lost her balance and leaned forward, by instinct her hands reached forward to soften the fall but all she felt under her palms was hot skin and hard muscle.

Caranthir watched her confusion, as he was lying on the bed, she was sitting on top of him, her legs on either side of his. He removed the fabric from her eyes, unable to hold his own need to look at her. Aine measured the room in surprise, he could see confusion at first but it was quickly replaced with recognition, it was his bedroom, or hers as she had been sleeping there since he rescued her. He was lying on the soft furs covering the bed, the room was dark, but the moonlight reflection on the snow provided more than enough light for him to see her as clear as he did downstairs with all the candles and fires lit. He reached for her face, caressing the perfect skin in the exact same spot where his was damaged. His finger hooked a long strand of hair that was falling over her chest and moved it way, he needed to look at her, enjoy every inch of her.

Her small hands were on his abs, but one slowly moved down, reaching to his hardness and wrapping her thin fingers around him. He didn’t want to make a sound, but a low grunt escaped his throat as he felt her skin around his length. She moved her hand slowly, tortuous, but he did not care, at least not yet. Despite the pleasure her hand was providing, he just couldn’t get enough of her touch, her perfect shape on top of him, her eyes looking in his with the same lust he was feeling. He wanted to do hundreds of things right now and nothing at the same time. Wanted to be in her, on top of her, have her on her knees between his legs, taste her..the list went on and on. At the same time that was perfect as well. He had never experienced that before, all his sex encounters have been about satisfying a need, rather than...that whatever the right word for that was. It had been about chasing his own pleasure, some release and there was that. But now he just wanted to look at her, enjoy the way her eyes were pinned on him, accepting him. Her small hand was still stoking him slowly, but he could feel himself moving him closer to an edge.

Caranthir wrapped his hands under her ass and lifted her up, her knees still touching the soft furs under them. Her hand let go of him and reached back on his abs trying to find balance even if his arms were supporting her. He positioned her slowly on top of his length, his eyes not leaving hers as he let her slide down slowly. He was supporting her, controlling the pace she moved down on him. He could feel the heat between her legs, then the wetness and eventually her tightness around him. She moaned as his tip pushed in, biting her lower lip. He gave her a moment to get used to him, but then continued to help her slide down on him, inch by inch, as slowly as he could until he was all the way in and stopped. She tried to move up, but he dug his fingers in her thighs keeping her in place.

He needed a moment, he pulled himself into a half sitting position, his right hand on the bed to support him, but his left hand still on her hip. He leaned forward and kissed her as he moved his hand under her and urged her to move, slowly, it was tortuous for him, but he knew it was the same for her. They both needed more than that. She started moving on his length, her arms now using his shoulders for support, his hips moving to meet her. He watched her as she found the best angle, the moans from her mouth low but so intoxicating for his mind. He slid his hand away, moving it slowly across her leg until his thumb was positioned on her clit, gently drawing a circle but that was enough to distract her from the pace she had picked.

“Don’t stop or I will as well.” he whispered in her ear, realizing that was the first thing he had said all night.

She started moving again, her eyes pleading with him and he just smiled, his thumb resuming the lazy circles it was drawing.

“Good girl.” he whispered in her ear again and then bit it gently, moving his lips down her neck, placing soft kisses as his finger increased the pressure and speed. Her pace became more rigid and he moved his hand away, back to her hip, but with a smooth move he rolled her over, this time she was lying on the furs and he was on top of her.

Aine quickly wrapped her legs around him urging him to push in her but he didn’t move. Yet again her pleasure and everything associated was at his mercy. It was exciting, but what made the thrill stronger was that just a week ago she would never imagine herself doing that with him. Somehow seeing him for who he truly was did something for her, enough to know he wouldn’t hurt her, and enough to find attraction toward him. A week ago, she wouldn’t have thought about allowing him to cover her eyes, even if it was for a second and they were completely dressed. Right now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Caranthir placed his hand on her throat, his thumb and index finger holding her jaw and forcing her to look at him, not that she had any other intention. She wanted to look at his face, even though he had been good about keeping his emotions under control, there were signs of pleasure, his pupils almost completely hiding the blue of his eyes, his jaw clenching when he was suppressing a groan.

Despite his best effort Caranthir could not hold any longer, or go slow. He moved his hips slowly but then his whole body just refused to listen and he found himself in a harsh pace, Aine’s body arching below him in pleasure with every thrust he did. The grip around her throat increased in strength, he could feel against his palm as she swallowed, the bones raising against him, the way her skin vibrated as she moaned. Her eyes fixed on him, barely focused, but she was looking at him. He wanted to know what she was feeling, what she was thinking, seeing him on top of her. He could. Without giving it a second thought he pressed his forehead against her and cast the spell, something that should be forbidden, but he wasn’t thinking. He immediately felt what she was feeling, he could feel the pressure against his throat even nothing was holding him, but the amount of pleasure she was feeling, he was feeling it now too, combined with his own, pushing him so close to the edge that he could not control anything on his body anymore, his speed, the way he was holding her…

Aine smiled as she felt his forehead press against her and then almost screamed from what followed. Everything she was feeling until now, suddenly became more intensified and different. It felt so strange, she knew physically nothing changed, his moves became less controlled, harsher, but her mind was experiencing that on a completely different level. She dug her nails in his back and somehow sensed it on her own skin, even if there was nothing there. One of his hands was still on her throat, the other between her legs, how could she feel nails digging in her own back? Her orgasm came almost immediately, her body arching under him, feeling the warmth of skin, she had no idea if she screamed or made any other sound, her whole mind was trying to process something that she had never felt before.

Moments passed, neither of them moved his chest pressing against hers as both of them were trying to catch their breaths. She was physically tired, but her mind was also exhausted in a way she had not felt before, even with all the work she had been doing as he was teaching her how to use magic.

Eventually Caranthir rolled over, he seemed exhausted as well, his moves slow and forced as he pulled the furs under the two of them and used them as a blanket and then pulled her on his chest, his arms wrapped around her body.

Aine started tracing lazily the black lines over his skin entwined with scars. Her fingers touched gently the complex patterns and runes, gently brushing around the damaged skin.

Neither of them spoke, she had no idea what to say. Whatever happened tonight...first she had never imagined herself going to someone offering herself the way she did with him, but somehow it felt right, he felt close and...in a twisted way that made sense. She also never imagined herself being blindfolded to someone’s desk, that sounded terrifying and against all logic, he was the last person she should entrust with that, but here they were, she was more than fine and in one piece.

“What was that?” she finally asked.

“Mhm?” was the only response he gave, as he started playing with her hair. “You need to be more specific.”

“After you touched my forehead.” she slid her fingers lower to his abs, more runes and markings covering the skin there.

“A spell.” he answered. A forbidden one or at least one that was frowned upon in certain circumstances. Accessing someone’s mind was dangerous and invasive, the way she did it with him, he allowed that. No one allowed him now. “It allowed me to feel what you were feeling and it allowed you to feel what I was feeling.” It usually was hard to cast it on someone who was unwilling or unaware, but she had completely given up to him. It felt so easy as both of them had completely given themselves to each other, but he had also been selfish. He needed the reassurance that she really wanted him, the way he wanted her.

Caranthir continued playing with her hair, his mind going through everything that happened tonight. Not just the physical part, that was great, but there was more. He had never been so intimate with another person. Never had the need to touch someone or be touched, even if it was just that, holding her, feeling her warmth next to him.

“Are you okay?” she pushed herself up a bit, he had to fight the instinct to pin her back down. She wasn’t going anywhere, she just lifted her head and shoulders a bit to look at him, but even that loss of friction was frustrating. He felt like a child who had just discovered how good chocolate tasted. “Caranthir?”

“Yes.” he pushed her hair away from her shoulder gently, running his finger over the skin where he had left marks. He has not done that before. He had been rough in the past, but never felt the need to leave a mark, it usually happened by accident, spur of the moment situation, but that was different. “Does it hurt?” she shook her head, she probably didn’t even know how red her skin was.

“How did you do the thing with the ice?” she relaxed again on his chest.

He reached for her hand and took it in his, made her open her palm.

“Focus and think about ice.” he could see her concentrating, sensing magic slowly building and an ice ball no bigger than his thumb appeared in her hand. “There you go.”

She rolled the piece of ice in her hand and then placed it on his chest, Caranthir groaned, the little ball slid down his chest to the side of abs and fell on the bed.

“How long did it take you to get all these?” she asked after a moment of silence, her small finger tracing again the tattoos on his body.

“Months.” It felt strange talking about himself. He had asked her questions about her and he knew a lot, but she never asked him questions before and then...well he gave her the crash course of who he was. It was still foreign for him to talk about himself. “I did my first one when I wasn’t even an adult yet.”

“You did it?” she pushed herself up again, looking him in the eyes with surprise. “Even on your neck and back?”

“You can use magic to move objects. It is not that complicated to move a needle and some ink.” he traced her spine with his fingers. He should probably get some protective runes on her to make sure no harm would come, but he also loved looking at her undamaged skin, so much unlike his covered in scars. “My teacher taught me the principle and told me that one day he would help me get my first runes. I couldn’t wait, so I did it myself despite his instructions. He wasn’t happy, but I also did it right from the first time.”

Aine listened to him, it felt good. She already knew a lot, not because she asked, but now it felt better. Having him volunteer that information, for the first time talking with full sentences, not half words with hidden meaning.

“Your teacher...he was the one who raised you, right?” she was careful with her questions, she wanted to hear him talk, but she also didn’t want to push too far and make him close himself again.

“He did. He was like a father to me, not a good one, but he was the only family I had growing up. The only parent, the only friend…” a sad smile appeared on his lips. “I used to worship him, now I feel like he is my biggest enemy.”

Aine didn’t know what to say at that, she wasn’t one to speak about fatherly love and even if she did not consider her family as her enemy she did not want to be near them either, or at least what was left of them. A brother who rarely acknowledged her, a father who used her as a trinket when there was a need for it and ignored her the rest of the time.

“I want you to stay with…” Caranthir finally started what was on his mind but stopped suddenly feeling the energy in the room building. He looked at her but her eyes were as puzzled looking at him for an answer. “Seriously?” Caranthir said more to himself, pushing himself up as he saw the portal opening. There was only one person who could open a portal and knew to find him in this place.

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acahope311 · 4 years ago

Text

Alone Together

Sleepover request

burning-quesadilla said: Can you do Fluff #3 for Glorestor? Also the sleepover idea sounds really fun, I love it & can't wait♥️ ((She/he/they) don’t compare to you. No one does.)

A/N: SOOOOOOO... Hi haha! I am back! I now have more free time to just get back into writing-- I forgot how fun it was to do this. @burning-quesadilla I am sososo sorry it took so long to do this 😭 but I hope you can forgive me and I hope you like it as well. This is technically my first only canon characters fic so... I really do hope I do them justice. But thank you so much for sending this request in! I had such a blast writing it!

Warnings: Death (but as a flashback/dream); sparring; falling; big booboo bruise on the forehead; fluff.

The evening darkness seeped into the glowing halls of Imladris. Although the hour grew late and everyone had retired to their respected quarters, Erestor’s mind continued to storm in the clear summer night. Tossing and turning in his bed, the poor elf could not relax.

“How can I rest knowing that a dark evil has arrived at our door?” He asked already knowing the answer.

His restlessness traveled from his mind to his palms, he needed to busy his idle hands, hoping that in doing so, his mind would calm. Silently, he stood and headed towards the training grounds. Now, normally, Erestor was not one to blow off steam through physical exercise, being a strong advocate of "brain over brawn", but even he knew how therapeutic it was to hit something with a sword- be it wooden or real.

Arriving on the premises, his slender fingers gripped a training sword. It had been a while since he'd gripped anything bigger than a pen, but it was not a strange sensation-- although a scholar, he made sure his body and movements were as sharp as his mind. Facing the wooden post, Erestor practiced his movements, swift and precise.

Lunge. His foot extended forward, bringing him towards his target.

"What is the next move?"

Sidestep. Quickly turning on his heel, he spun and landed a side strike-- chipping the wood.

"How can we defeat this growing malice in the east?"

Deflect. Imagining an enemy, Erestor held his sword up in hopes of stopping an imaginary attack- strangely enough reeling in the process.

"The halflings cannot take this evil alone."

Advance. Focusing once again, the lithe elf ran towards the post, preparing to land the final blow.

"What help can I provide?"

As he was about to land the finishing blow, his ankle caught on a mound of dirt he did not realize he’d formed with his movements. Instead of finishing through, his body toppled over and his face ate dirt-- literally. After a few moments-- thanking Eru that no one was alive to see that--Erestor turned over and laid on his back, in pain and frustration… and maybe a twinge of embarrassment. His chest heaved with difficulty from his exercise, but also with exasperation.

“What help can I provide?”

Still deep in thought, he failed to register the sound of another person moving through the ground to lay next to him. When the other elf laid down next to him, staring at the sky, Erestor jumped.

“Glorfindel?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A horrendous screech echoed through the stone cliffs, wracking the very bones of the elf warrior as he stood, steadfast, against his foe. The balrog of Melkor was no small enemy-- literally. Standing heads above Glorfindel, the creature surged forward with heavy but strong steps, driven with the determination to obliterate him. Under normal circumstances, anyone- with a sound mind- would turn tail and run for their lives. Not Glorfindel, not the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. The mighty elf swung his sword with precision, slicing the thick horn of the balrog. A pained roar blasted the elf back to the edge of the cliff. Looking back to his followers, Glorfindel could see his kin terrified of the events.

“GO! I WILL HOLD IT OFF! KEEP OUR KIN SAFE!” He yelled, his command piercing the howling of the beast and the wind. Turning back to his enemy, he saw the rabid look in its eyes, angered by its wounds. Invigorated by rage, the balrog lunged at him once again, hands outstretched, teeth in a snarl. It was as if evil embodied had come down to smite the golden elf. However, Glorfindel was not one to be tested so easily; quick as a flash, the ellon sheathed his sword deep in the chest of his enemy. It happened so fast that even the balrog itself had no idea what had occurred, rather its body reacted on its own. Black spots danced in its vision as it began to fall over the cliff, into the jagged peaks below. Glorfindel was the victor. A sigh of relief escapes his lips as he looks to the sky sending a silent prayer to his maker.

“Thank Eru.” He closes his eyes and revels in a moment of respite as he feels the wind whip around him and through his golden hair, making it dance wildly in the air.

“Finally, I need to help-” Suddenly the world goes black as a sharp and heavy tug pulls his head abruptly in an inhuman angle towards the abyss after his enemy.

SNAP

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glorfindel jolts awake in a pool of sweat. His chest is heaving as he gulps down air. His throat is stinging as he touches it, making him assume that he was screaming. Luckily, his rooms are in their own separate side of Rivendell away from the other citizens.

A dream… No. A memory. Trying his best to steady his breathing, Glorfindel runs through the events of the past few days to anchor him to his present, reminding him that he is not in the First Age, that Balrogs are no longer in this era.

Strange… I’ve not had that dream in such a long time. The air turns cold as he feels like he is being watched. Suddenly he remembers his escapade of saving Frodo from the Nazgul.

The Ring. A restlessness--no, an uneasiness-- falls on his entire being.

“I need to do something,” Glorfindel says out loud. Jumping up, he dresses in training clothes and heads to the training grounds.

A good spar will do me some good.

As he nears the grounds, he hears grunts, pants, and growls. Confused as to who would be here, his first assumption would be Legolas or Estel.

Good, I’d prefer a real sparring partner to a wooden doll.

As he rounds the corner, his eyes widen at the sight of Erestor, the librarian, destroying the wooden doll with such precision and speed that even he was almost impressed. Almost. He noted the fluid movement and purposeful strikes, but he pointed out the lack of determination-- he was distracted.

If he does not pay attention, he’ll- As though reading his thoughts, his dear companion decided that the ground would be his next victim as he fell, face first, into the dirt. The sight of the fallen elleth was enough to lift his spirits up, but he knew he needed to make sure that he was alright. However, Glorfindel is not a cruel man, so instead of letting loose a string of guffaws, he stealthily, walked to Erestor’s panting form on the dirt. As he laid down next to him, a sigh of relief escaped him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello, Erestor. Fine night to lay under the stars.” The golden eldar said calmly. His very presence made his companion even more flustered from fear of having been seen in his tumble.

“What are you doing here?” Glorfindel chuckled as he folded his arms behind his head and sighed contentedly.

“I was taking a stroll, and heard a noise coming from the training grounds. At first I assumed it to be the prince of Mirkwood, but imagine my surprise when I see the counselor of Rivendell flailing a stick around like an elfling trying to wave off an imaginary orc in the night.” His baritone chuckle reverberated through the cool breeze, sending a shiver down the brunette elf’s spine-- not sure if it was because of the chill or his voice. Blushing furiously, he asked,

“Why are you lying on the ground?”

“You face planted. So I am lying next to you just in case someone were to pass by, they’d think we were just resting from a night of sparring.” His answer caused Erestor to choke on his breath.

He saw! An embarrassed moan is pulled from his mouth while Glorfindel smirks.

“Don’t worry, I understand. What weighs your heart that it distracted your training? He asked without looking at him. Erestor is silent for a bit

“I am weighed down by the worries that the halflings bring, Glorfindel. I need to propose a plan of attack and defense. I need-” Erestor’s rant is cut off with his companion’s hand on his mouth.

“You need to rest. Your mind has done more work than your body-- and it is showing with that huge bruise on your forehead.” Self consciously, Erestor covers his bruise.

Cute.

“And there is no use being worried and burdened at the same time, then your punishment is prolonged and double-- believe me. I know.” The tone in his voice held a twinge of sadness that Erestor did not miss.

“Why are you here Glorfindel?” He whispers. When did they move closer?

Silence again. Closing his eyes, the golden elf sighs and confesses his dream.

“Oh Glorfindel… We need to go to the healers, they can maybe give you something for sleep.”

“No, I just… just stay here with me. Your company is remedy enough.” Glorfindel says softly, almost vulnerably. His request pulls at Erestor’s heart and mind.

“I am no healer, Glorfindel. I cannot heal you.” Erestor says, turning to him and propping his head on his arm to better look at him.

“I don’t believe so, our healers are great- do not misunderstand. But to me, they don’t compare to you. No one does.”

Still not looking at him, Glorfindel closes his eyes and just basks in Erestor’s presence with a small smile. A comfortable silence passes, so long, in fact, that the morning birds are beginning to wake. Noting the peace that falls upon Glorfindel’s face, it dawns on him that he should have given him some time to spar.

“I should leave you alone.” Erestor says reluctantly, pulling away. Before he could get far enough, Glorfindel’s hand gently pulled him back.

“I think you could use some alone time as well. So why not let us be alone together, melethen.”

Erestor smiles and nods. Laying back down, the two elven lords lay on the ground, under the dawning sky as the city around them slumbers. Erestor’s mind calmed and his heart felt lighter. A chuckle escaped his lips.

“You know… We should be alone together more often.”

Taglist: @elvish-sky

#glorestor #glorfindel #erestor #tolkien #lotr elves #fluff #writing #fanfic #sleepover #burning quesadilla

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lesetoilesfous · 4 years ago

Note

For DWC: "These chains never leave me, I keep dragging them around" from the Florence prompt list for Anders/Fenris?

Ah I had so much fun with this, thank you! I hope I did it justice!!

(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting

Pairing: Fenders

Characters: Fenris, Anders

Tags: hurt/comfort, angst, canon-typical graphic depictions of violence, Anders was right, anti-chantry, graphic reference to infanticide, Tevinter is awful, graphic reference to abortion, oblique reference to sexual assault, self-hatred, mention of self-harm, suicidal ideation. Basically post-Danarius, and all that entails. Characters dealing with trauma, PTSD and survivor’s guilt.

Rating: Mature

It’s been one week, two days and three hours since Fenris killed Danarius. He is sitting with Hawke and her friends in her mansion, because he had not been able to conceal his discomfort when they’d visited The Hanged Man, unable to remove from his recent memory the stain of blood on the floorboards and the sting of his sister’s betrayal. Corff had, at least, worked a miracle with the former. As far as the latter was concerned - Fenris did not think that Isabela was the only one who’d noticed him startling in the Lowtown crowd at the sight of every redheaded elf. The trait was, blessedly, a rare one. There was that, at least.

In the beautiful marble fireplace, Hawke’s fire roars loud and red, crackling with heat that licks gold light over the sandy, muscular back of her mabari, half asleep on the wine purple rug laid over the stone. Sandal is humming somewhere in one of the rooms nearby, and occasionally, under the loud sound of Hawke’s voice and her companions’ laughter, Fenris can make out the soft sound of Bodahn talking to his son. Orana, of course, is inaudible. She knows better.

Fenris bites the inside of his cheek, hard, and drinks deeply from his cup. The wine in it is thick and rich and velvet. Fenris can feel Marian’s eyes on him, but he can also see, from the corner of his eye, the way that her muscular arm is looped casually around Isabela’s shoulders. As he lowers his cup, he catches the way that Isabela tilts her head back, thick black hair falling over Marian’s tunic as she brushes her lips against her ear. He can see the way Marian flushes.

Fenris gets to his feet, and by the fireplace Dog raises her great sandy head. He gives her a small, calming gesture, and next to the low table onto which they’ve scattered their cards, Marian frowns at him. “Fenris?”

Fenris motions vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. “I need some water.” He tries to ignore the eyes of his companions on him as he goes. Instead, he leaves the warm, firelit parlour and walks into the cold, empty rooms not baked gold by fireplaces. Fenris feels his shoulders lower as soon as he gets to the second room, standing in the grey and black dusty shadow of an utterly deserted music room. Through the narrow stone windows of the Amell Estate, he can see the deep black sky of Kirkwall, scattered with stars. Houses fall like broken marble down towards the sea, which crashes with a distant roar against the cliffs. At the edge of the horizon, moonlight races silver across the waves. Fenris stares at it, and thinks about being a younger man, on an island, thinking that it would be the last thing he ever saw.

“Nice view, isn’t it?”

Fenris whirls on instinct, limbs moving with muscle memory as the lyrium sewn into his skin sets his nerve endings on fire and he plunges his hand into the intruder’s chest. In the dark, Anders’ blonde hair is grey and silver. If he’s bothered by the pain about which Fenris’ victims had so often complained to him before their grisly demise, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he raises his eyebrows at Fenris over the wrist plunged into his chest. Fenris squeezes his fingers, and feels the frantic, shuddering jerk of Anders’ heart in his palm, the warm, wet sensation of it dulled by the distance of the Fade.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

Anders breathes out, a long, shuddering breath that belies his calm demeanour. Fenris had not previously thought him capable of such a poker face. His heart beats in Fenris’ hand like a bird, struggling. “I don’t know.” Anders meets his eyes, and in the dark his are almost black, but his blonde eyelashes are gilded silver by the moon. “I guess I trust you.”

Fenris’ fingers uncurl around Anders’ heart, and the mage’s shoulders lower from where they’d been scraping his ears. Fenris’ gaze falls to his long, crooked fingers, but there’s no telltale spark of magic there. Slowly, Fenris withdraws his hand, watching it fade through the frayed fabric of Anders’ coat as he tries to ignore the burn of a hot, embarrassed flush pushing up into his cheeks.

Outside the mansion, on the streets of Kirkwall, a pair of mabari start barking, great bellowing things that echo against the stone buildings. A cat yowls, and far off there’s the sound of people shouting. Fenris stares at his bare feet on the stone floor of Hawke’s mansion and hates the fact that his eyes are burning as he tries to untangle his tongue, and dispel the impression that Anders will do something awful to him for his trespass. (Hadriana’s smile flickers behind his eyelids every time he blinks. Her fingers curl, wreathed in green light. His own screams echo in his ears long before the pain hits.)

“Are you alright?”

Anders’ voice is rough and soft, and Fenris jerks his head up, falling back on the easy confidence of anger and letting it buoy him up out of his despair.

“What do you care, mage?”

As Fenris speaks he surges forward, feeling his lips curl back from his teeth in a sneer. Anders doesn’t back away, and it leaves their faces mere inches apart. Anders is looking at him oddly, and abruptly Fenris wishes for more light: knowing the man well enough by now after almost a decade to be able to read the spiderweb cracks of wrinkles in his face as the giveaway they tended to be.

“You haven’t been yourself since -” Anders hesitates, and Fenris hates him for it, and abruptly cannot look at him. So instead he turns away, throwing his hands into the empty air as if that will satisfy his urge to hit something.

“Since what? Since I killed him. Tell me, mage, what is my ‘self’? What am I?” Fenris means it as a challenge, but his voice cracks, and when he turns back to Anders, chest heaving, he’s horrified to realise that tears are running down his cheeks. He glances at the open door, leading into the dark and deeper into the mansion. He takes a step in the direction of the doorframe.

“Brave.” Anders says the word quickly, and Fenris stops, unable to force himself to turn around but unable to leave either as some stupid, childish part of him that he had long since thought irreparably ruined rises in delight. “Funny. And you know it, though you pretend you don’t.” It’s getting hard to breathe. Fenris stares into the thick shadows of the next room, where Orana’s drawn the curtains across the window. Elsewhere in the mansion, there’s a cheer and a crow of triumph from Isabela as the rest of their friends laugh.

“Smartest man I’ve ever met, probably.” Anders goes on, but doesn’t move. “Fucking stubborn. Annoying. Terrifying, with a greatsword. And without one.” Anders hesitates, and Fenris hears the catch of his breath as clear as a bell struck at daybreak. “My friend.”

Fenris clenches his jaw so tightly his teeth hurt, and shuts his eyes. More tears fall down his cheeks, tickling his chin as they go.

“A good man. That’s what you are, Fenris.” Anders delivers the proclamation with the same certainty with which he insists on his desperate, hopeless, flawed revolution.

Fenris whirls on him. “And what do you know of good men?” Fenris means it cruelly, and he tries to take satisfaction in the way that Anders flinches. But then the stupid, stubborn, ridiculous man lifts his chin.

“Enough to know one when I see one. And know when he’s being an ass.”

“You know nothing of me!” Fenris almost bellows, and cowers when the words echo. For a moment, both he and Anders hold their breath as they wait for one of Hawke’s servants - or worse - their friends, to come and investigate. But a minute passes, tense as a knife edge, and no one does. Fenris goes on, and tries to ignore the prickling in his sweating hands. “You don’t know what I am. You don’t know what I’ve done.”

Dust motes dance silver in the starlight as they fall onto the piano. Anders purses his lips. “Alright, I don’t. But I know that you dress up as Fen’harel for the kids in the alienage every Wintersend. I know you win more often at cards than you say you do, and that you let Merrill win. I know you’re a little bit in love with Isabela, and a little bit in love with Hawke, and it kills you that they chose each other because it kills me too. I know that you have more reason than any bastard I’ve ever met to hurt me until I forget how to breathe and you’re one of very few people who never has. I know that I’ve known you for a decade and you haven’t killed me yet.”

“I might.” It’s not a threat. Fenris doesn’t look at Anders when he says it, staring dully instead at the painting on the wall: some rainy Fereldan landscape, the details of which he can’t make out in the dark.

“But you haven’t.” Anders steps forward, and Fenris steps back, and feels dizzily as if they’re dancing. The moonlight catches on Anders’ chin, and Fenris can make out the faint tooth of a scar just below his bottom lip, hair thin in his stubble. Anders swallows, and breaks Fenris’ gaze, eyes tracing over a lute hanging on the wall. “You know mages don’t get to keep their kids.”

The subject change is so abrupt that Fenris feels as if he’s been physically thrown off kilter. “What?” He’s been standing here long enough to feel the cold, now, and taste the wood polish in the air. Anders goes on, still not looking at him, massaging one hand with the other as his fingers flex.

“They take them away. Can’t abort them, not under Chantry law. I’m a Spirit Healer.”

Fenris’ frown deepens, the back of his head already aching with the dull constant stress of the last fortnight and the sleeplessness that came with it. “I know.” He tries not to make his frustration obvious. Judging by the small grin Anders gives him, he doesn’t succeed.

“I started working with the Circle Healer when I was 17. Day after I was Harrowed. First day wasn’t so bad. A couple lashings. Attempted suicide. Self-harmer. Some kid who said he walked into a wall.” Anders rolls his eyes, huffing a laugh as his hands move to massage his wrists. Fenris watches him carefully. “Second day. There was this girl. Fifteen, Templar father, obviously. I helped deliver that baby.” Anders’ expression shutters. “She wasn’t allowed to see it. I did. I got to hold it, give it to some lieutenant who held it like it was contagious. I don’t even know if it made out of Kinloch. But she begged me to let her hold it and all I could say was that it was already gone.”

“That -” Fenris picks his words as carefully as he would navigate a floor covered in broken glass. “I do not think that you were the one at fault, there.”

“I know.” Anders says the words simply, and reaches up into his hair to pull the tie loose, scratching the tangled waves that fall around his head as he does so. “My point is, when you’re a prisoner, most of the time, the burden is on your gaolor. And you aren’t Danarius’ crimes.”

“It is not the same.” Fenris grinds the words between his teeth as his fingers tighten into fists hard enough to hurt. “I was - the things I did - I did not take babies. I killed them. I broke their skulls on his altars. I aborted them from their mothers before I killed them, too. I cannot - there are not words for the marks that what I have done, what I did, has left on my soul, and I do not know if I will do them again, and I fear them and I fear him, and I fear myself, and I hate them and I hate him and I hate myself, and every hour of every day I live with these cursed chains on my body that I cannot shake no matter how far I run and I do not know how to make it stop.” Once Fenris starts speaking, he can’t slow down, the words falling from his tongue with the tears that run thick and fast down his cheeks as he tears at his arms hard enough to make them bleed. Anders startles forward, and Fenris jerks backward, thrusting his burning hands into the air between them. “I would tear it from my skin. I would rip myself apart piece by piece if I did not know that killing myself would only be a mercy that I have never deserved.” Fenris breathes, and it splinters in his chest. He finishes in a hoarse whisper. “You know nothing of what I am, or what I have been, or what I have suffered, or what I have done. You never have.”

Behind Fenris, through the window, the sound of the ocean beats incessantly against the land. Elsewhere in the mansion, their companions are quiet, and the sound of Sandal’s singing has ceased. Fenris can feel his blood roaring in his ears, and doesn’t bother to brush the tears from his cheeks. Standing in the middle of the room, Anders stares at him, his tall thin figure swaying like a sapling in a breeze.

Then he says, “You’re right. There’s a lot about you that I don’t know or understand and, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m kind of an asshole sometimes. But, Fenris? I need you to know this.” Anders steps forward and gets, stiffly, to his knees, one leg bending more slowly than the other. Fenris stares at him, bewildered, and steps backward until his head bumps softly against the wall. “Forgive the melodrama but uh, I don’t get on my knees for just anyone.” Fenris doesn’t think he has ever seen Anders on his knees, and he realises abruptly that he had never wanted to. Anders gives him a small, nervous smile, and takes a deep breath, swallowing before he speaks. “Fenris. From a mage, on his knees, asking you to listen to him. You deserve to live.”

The sob that works its way out of Fenris’ chest is a living thing, and Fenris chokes on it, sliding down the wall as he begins to cry in earnest. Anders, mercifully, doesn’t move. Fenris doesn’t know how long he cries, only that at the end of it his throat aches and his eyes burn and his head is pounding. But when he opens his eyes, Anders is still there, silver in the dark on his knees next to the piano. Fenris stares at him, and tries to clear his throat.

“You’re a very strange man.”

Anders shrugs, and moves with a visible wince to take the weight off his left knee, leaning against the piano stool as he gingerly unfolds his leg. “I’ve been called worse.”

Slowly, he reaches out into the space between them, scarred, crooked, calloused hand palm upwards, fingers outstretched. Anders looks at him, and his brown eyes are almost black in the dark. Slowly, fighting the sensation that this must be some kind of trap, Fenris reaches out and takes it. Anders’ fingers are cool against his, and his knuckles are bumpy and uneven. But he squeezes Fenris’ hand so hard it’s almost painful, and Fenris feels more tears stinging at the back of his eyes.

For a moment, they sit like that, peaceful in the quiet. Then there’s a soft knock on the doorframe, and Bodahn ducks his head in, face lit by a candle in a brass dish. “Sorry to interrupt messeres, but Mistress Hawke wanted to know if you’d like some libation to keep you company?”

Fenris glances at Anders, half moving to pull his hand back. But Anders’ hand tightens on his, and instead, feeling strangely childish, he nods at Bodahn. “Yes, please. That would be appreciated.”

Bodahn gives him a small, kind smile and ducks his head. “Very good, messere.” He turns, and leaves, and Fenris watches Anders as he shuts his eyes and leans his head back against the barstool, hair fanning out around him like some Orlesian princess.

“I thought you didn’t drink.” It’s not an accusation, motivated more by curiosity than anything.

Anders’ lips curl, and he opens one eye to look at Fenris, fingers tightening in his. “For you? I’ll make an exception. It’s been a long week.”

#dadwc #my fic #fenders #da2 #fenris #anders #tsuraiwrites

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ginkgomoon · 4 years ago

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Victor’s Aura- A Character Aura Study

This post is my take on Victor’s aura, taken from my knowledge and intuition to depict what kind of aura he has! I did one on Gavin, as well as Gavin’s astrological birth chart so if you haven’t seen them, you can read them after this post!

What is an Aura? “Aura” by the dictionary is “the distinctive atmosphere or quality that seems to surround and be generated by a person, thing, or place”.

It’s essentially the electromagnetic energy field that surrounds all living things. It’s the magnetic field of vibration like how a lighted candle is lit and how a scent or perfume surrounds a flower. In fact, it’s correctly described as an extension of the body. It’s a part of every cell. Your aura can be affected by anything, including traumas, memories and emotions. It can tell us a lot about a person’s mental, physical, emotional state, vitality and path of life. Habitual thoughts, emotions and even illnesses can be clearly revealed. If a person changes their long standing thoughts and emotions, the aura will too reflect that.

Victor’s Aura There are many layers to the aura but let’s start off with the “ground” colour. This is the main colour that dominates the aura both in size and intensity. It’s arguably the most important colour as it shows what the person should be doing in their life.

Victor’s main ground colour is dark yellow (keep in mind this is not defined as “murky”- when someone is lost and muddled in their life). People with dark yellow as their ground are confident, well adjusted and analytical. As a result, they take life one step at a time, one goal at a time, ensuring every project is seen through properly to completion to avoid problems and setbacks later. They are patient people, setting their worthwhile goals in no hurry to reach them, as they know without a doubt that they will obtain their deserved reward in the end. They prefer to do things rationally and in a logical manner, especially at work where they are required to make use of their good memory and love for detail. As they are ambitious and persistent, they often take up roles of leadership, responsibility and of importance. From his corrections on MC’s reports to the food he makes at Souvenir (that is insisted to be cooked according to certain temperatures), Victor is no doubt a detail-oriented leader even whether if the goal he wants to achieve is related to work or not.

MC: It’s a sort of mark that can be left in literature or in a photograph… and I can feel it. Victor’s eyes are lowered. In his clear and tranquil eyes, there are ripples of light and shadows. Victor: Such as? The smile tugging at the corner of his mouth is clear, and I ponder this seriously. MC: For example, the way I write proposals has changed. The format of my proposals has changed. The indent of the first line, font size 15, 1.5 spacing between lines… it’s the format you find most pleasing to the eye! Victor’s eyebrow quirks. Victor: That’s all? MC: There’s more! I’ve become so much more picky with food. I never used to complain that food tastes bad, but eating at Souvenir has cultivated my palate. Now, when I eat even Michelin meals, I feel as if something’s lacking… -CN Exhibition Date

“What happened with SE is just an example. We’re from different businesses and different fields. There’s no need to compare yourself with me. Also, I’m older than you. When you’ve reached my age, you might attain the achievements I have today.” -CN Night Meeting Date

“Slow and steady wins the race” is the moral that they live by, but sometimes adhering to this credo may frustrate others as they can be so analytical and detail oriented at times- usually at great lengths. A cute little add from the Tender Regards Date around the concept of snail mail, time (Victor’s evol!) and the goal of always reaching your destination in the end demonstrate this this motif in Victor’s relationship with MC.

“Looks like you should have received this Future Mail. Apart from supporting your event, I’m only going to do this once. This will not be repeated. The things I want to say to you are all in this videotape. It only belongs to you.” -CN Tender Regards Date

“When will you finally understand? It’s all right. I’m patient. I’ll wait for you to see the light slowly.” -Rooftop Date

Although they have feelings, they only ever reveal it to people close to them. They enjoy the detail and technicality of conversations and find it hard to talk about their emotions. Victor’s Exhibition and Tender Regards Date are very useful sources of information in relation to these topics, as it displays Victor’s deep emotions of affection to MC and highlights the importance of expressing emotions to those you love. Dark yellow aura peoples’ greatest lesson in life is to be more emotionally open, and when do they do, it usually occurs later in life.

“The writer wrote it down herself - “The time I spent loving someone, not a single second of it was wasted.” I rarely hear such words leave Victor’s mouth, and it makes me feel a little surreal. In my memory, we very rarely talk about the topic of ‘love’. Maybe it’s because he rarely says what’s in his heart. Maybe it’s because I’m used to being thick-skinned. We never have the opportunity to seriously understand the meaning in these words. -CN Exhibition Date

“Do you still remember the special episode on “Feelings” from before? Actually, this theme was inspired by that episode. Giving gifts is a common way to express how one feels. But it’s not that easy to send a gift to the future. With Future Mail, the sender can convey their feelings and surprises in this gift to the other party across time.” -CN Tender Regards date

People with dark yellow as their ground enjoy system and order such as routines at work and in their home life. This is applied to Victor’s strict schedules in his day to day life, such as taking on what time he sleeps and when he gets up to go on his morning jogs. They need to consider new ideas before grudgingly accepting them. This is especially applied to when Victor always says “just this once” to MC when he’s being “childish” with her (but we really know that isn’t the case, he knows this all too well, too).

“Because a certain greedy cat always says she wants to eat something sweet after dinner, I made pudding before leaving the house. Do you think this is a mark of how I’ve been changed?” -CN Exhibition Date

Next is Victor’s “radiating” colour. This represents his interests and motivations. It adds strength to the ground colour. They can work well in harmony, some can conflict.

I would take Victor’s radiating as violet. Violet is a very highly spiritual colour, as people with this colour as their radiating will have a very spiritual take on life, as they are deep thinkers who like to analyse everything and think matters though logically. They are also naturally intuitive. Violet radiatings have the ability to come up with unique and unusual solutions to problems. As they enjoy learning, they have the potential to become experts in their field of endeavour- which is no surprise for Victor as he’s basically an “on top of the world tyrant” in the industry of finances. In addition, they feel things deeply, but rather operate things on an emotionally free level- again with the ground aura traits to enhance this! However, Victor too, has a high EQ despite this.

“I’m no different from you. There are many things I cannot do or force to make happen. It’s okay to not be strong, it’s okay to not do well. You don’t have to bottle up your emotions.” … “I won’t tell you to keep holding on no matter what difficulties you face. That isn’t realistic. There will come a time when you will become an even better version of yourself who will have enough courage and experience to deal with all of this.” -CN Colours of Rain Date

Overall, Victor’s aura of darker yellow and violet depict him as more of a straightforward kind of person, hardworking and articulate, however soon we realise there’s more to what we see of Victor, like how MC thinks that Victor comes off as a “heartless CEO” throughout the main story chapters but he slowly warms up to her whilst determining to prove her wrong. Victor is wise, and doesn’t bother to put in his personal efforts to where it’s not needed, but when it’s up to him- he strives to go all the way for perfection and with the best of his ability. He spends a lot of time in deep contemplation to determine his plans of attack which allows him to execute them well. His values and worth ethics will always in the end allow him to make time for MC, no matter how busy he is :)

And lastly…

Victor leans against the window, his face still written with distaste, but he does not attempt to remove that childish-looking blanket. He brings the red cup to his lips and gently blows on it. The warm light encases him, softening the aura surrounding him. His outline also appears gentler. He doesn’t look as impossible to get close to. My eyes land on Victor, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He puts down the cup in his hands, lowering his eyes, as though deep in thought. This is a Victor I have never seen before… In this moment, he seems to have put down his stubbornness and distant aura - becoming someone within reach. Only now does Victor finally feel my gaze. He raises his head to look at me. -CN Warm Date

All of a sudden, he lifts his other hand gently. A water droplet pelts onto his palm, as though pulling him into the pattering rain. Seeing this, I find myself subconsciously frozen in place. Because of the enshrouding misty rain, the Victor before me appears warmer and more tender than usual. -CN Tender Regards Date

It always has and always will be MC to see this side of him- the tenderness and the willingness of how he opens up to her- his aura willingly to embrace hers too. Fun fact- auras can deflect off one another if you’re with someone you dislike. But when it’s with two people in love, their auras connect, combine and produce an even brighter and bigger accommodating aura for the both of them. He’s certainly living working towards to achieve his greatest life goals- both in his businesses and being with MC, striving together to make great changes and milestones in their respective industries. Without a doubt, she has helped Victor’s aura grow, expand and shine the many rays through his doubts, allowing a light from within to burn brighter and evolve him into more of the brilliant, hardworking and tender man we know today.

#victor #li zeyan #mlqc translation #mlqc analysis #mlqc victor #恋与制作人 #mr love queens choice #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc en #aura reading #aura

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faebriel · 4 years ago

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ok ok I'm insane and couldn't pick one so have two (no need to answer both if you don't want to)

“You talk to him.” Not kindly, but he does.

“I’m used to him,” he shoots back. “I’m the only person who is.”

That makes Niki feel something, some uncomfortable tug in her chest. She mentally kicks herself. It’s not jealousy, she reminds herself, because despite the near-cliff jumping and the long nights without food and the nuclear fallout that has punctuated her last few months, being jealous of Tommy would be the least reasonable thing she’s allowed herself to be, maybe ever.

“You don’t believe me,” Tommy says flatly. “You never - eugh.” He cuts himself off with another ragged sigh, running a hand down his face. “Look, Niki, it’s - we were all together in Pogtopia, right? But I was there first. With him. And you didn’t see the start of it, it was horrible, and I’m glad no one else saw the beginning of it either but it was still just so shit and he kept saying all these terrible things about Tubbo and Fundy and you and,” he takes a shaky breath, “then, when I died, I saw him.”

Her breath catches in her throat.

Well, the voice in the back of her head whistles. If you were still wondering about all this afterlife bullshit, if you want to know where you’re going after your third life, here you go.

and

“You didn’t even - this isn’t about L’Manberg, Wilbur!” Niki shouts.

And then he stops, breathing hard, and he looks at Niki the same way he does whenever her voice is being drowned out in a crowd - the way he does when he wants to hear her, when he wants to know what she has to say.

“What else is there?” he asks.

Niki freezes. Stock still, unable to move, unable to breathe, ice threading its way through her gut, her chest, her shoulders, chilled down to the bone. With slow-dawning horror, she can feel hot tears welling up behind her eyes, sitting in her throat, threatening to spill over into a sob. She swallows - to keep her cool, to stay calm, to keep it together -

And then, something in her chest just snaps.

“You said you’d come back for me!” she cries, and her voice hitches on the lump of tears at the back of her throat and god, she sounds absolutely pathetic. Wilbur’s face softens immediately, which somehow just makes her feel even worse. “In Manberg. When Schlatt put me in prison, and you and Tommy were in Pogtopia, you said you’d break me out when it was safe. I waited for weeks , Wilbur. It was… it was horrible.”

“Niki…” a kaleidoscope of emotions flicker across his face, and he seems unsure which to settle on. “We got you out though, right? After the festival.”

“You looked for the button first,” she says quietly, and he stills.

Her sniffling sounds embarrassingly loud against the quiet background of night.

thank you sm!!! i’m gonna put these under the cut because they got a little long sorry (tw for discussion of suicidal ideation)

to preface: tommy is kind of the accidental but incredibly necessary invisible support beam for niki and wilbur’s making amends in bitter. niki cannot accept wilbur’s actions and apology without first acknowledging her own actions and making steps towards an apology, because otherwise it kind of falls flat? in that ending scene niki finally gets what wilbur is feeling and wilbur finally gets that someone else knows how he feels (it’s not perfect 100% yet, but…. that’ll get explored later)

onto the actual snippet! “tommy talks to wilbur - not kindly, but he does” was very important to me! tommy has stuck by wilbur ever since pogtopia, but the tragedy is that he is not equipped to deal with wilbur’s issues, and it shows. wilbur’s first stream after revival depicts this really clearly, where tommy tails wilbur around the whole time but insults him, is still stuck on calling him the villain, physically fights him at some point, etc. on one hand this isn’t healthy but on the other hand tommy is actually around, which is more than can be said for basically any other ally wilbur has had on the dsmp, maybe excluding his dad, who literally killed him lmfao.

this whole issue is exacerbated by the fact that tommy believes that he is the only person who properly understands wilbur, the only person who gets what happened to him, and feels like wilbur is generally his burden to bear. he failed to stop wilbur from both 1. hurting other people and 2. killing himself after the pogtopia-manberg war - and he doesn’t trust wilbur not to do either of those things again, so he’s stuck hovering around wilbur while wilbur is inadvertently setting off his own trauma and feeling responsible for any way he might fuck up and hating that but not wanting to leave. tommy’s memory isn’t perfect and he isn’t a perfect narrator, what he remembers from pogtopia the most were the scariest parts and that’s understandable but it means he’s holding wilbur to the worst expectations of behaviour (and he does so very vocally). the others showed up later, sure, but in tommy’s eyes he’s the only one who saw wilbur’s descent, and by the time they showed up wilbur had already changed irreversably. tommy tries to rationalise this by splitting the ‘different wilburs’ apart from each other in his head (he does this in canon too - there’s one quote from like late 2020 where he says he and tubbo need to keep on going for who wilbur used to be, not who he became, even though they’re,, the same person), and no one challenges that perspective, so he just keeps doing it even though it’s not healthy for him or wilbur.

and then limbo happened and, oh geez, THAT didn’t help jhfaskjjfsa

tommy is on a bit of a knife edge with niki in this fic. niki’s in this state of “ok, he’s annoying whatever, i’m moving on”, but all tommy knows is that she tried to kill him that one time, disappeared off the face of the map, joined a book club with two people who definitely do not like him, and now is just acting weirdly mellow and polite. she is not someone he wants near wilbur bc what the fuck is she gonna do? what is he gonna do? who knows. he’s frustrated that niki doesn’t seem to acknowledge how he’s feeling (especially bc once upon a time she would have been someone he trusted to acknowledge them - they were friends, they fought together) and he’s taking a big step by telling someone about his concerns here, especially bc tommy doesn’t really like talking about them at all. he wouldn’t be saying absolutely anything to niki if he didn’t truly believe she should stay away from wilbur, even if he’s wrong about him. (sometimes i think i write tommy as a little too emotionally mature here but it all goes out the window when wilbur’s brought up. idk if that balances it out)

ok onto niki: this is the first she has actually heard of limbo! she’s only just come around to the fact that resurrection is possible at all. death is kind of a touchy subject for niki both in general and re: wilbur in the fic - she’s coming off of a period in her life where suicidal ideation was, uh, a big thing (whether you want to read that into canon or not is subjective, that’s just the angle i went with in this fic). the sudden existence of a life after death, miserable as it is - and whether she really believes in such a place, when it only exists in tommy and wilbur’s words - that is a lot of information for her to absorb all at once. death is a weird connection point for tommy and niki here, coming right off of the fact that they’ve just acknowledged each other having those problems - tommy, out of, yknow, altruism, would very much like to keep niki out of that place, and niki is quietly reckoning with the fact that that is where she would have sent him. the concept of limbo from the perspective of a character with no experience of it, even secondhand, is so interesting to me like what kind of eldritch location would you feel like you’re living in asghjkl

(also - i gotta be honest the jealousy angle here but mostly when she’s talking later about dream not deserving wilbur’s companionship kinda came out after this post came across my dash while writing. whoops /j)

fun fact, this is the very first snippet of bitter that i ever wrote! all the way back in may!! this is like the moment of the fic - it's where the miscommunication that niki and wilbur have been having is shattered entirely - and so sticking the landing was uhhh kinda important to me lol.

wilbur's entire being in this fic is basically consumed by L'Manberg - he equates his self worth to it entirely. in his eyes, everyone (rightfully) hates him because of what he did to L'Manberg, because L'Manberg was corrupted and he himself with it, etc. niki tries to tell herself this, and while it definitely does form part of her issues with him, it was the betrayal that causes her this much pain - that he seemingly brushed her and their friendship off entirely when he supposedly left her for dead in manberg. because here is what we as the audience know: wilbur couldn’t leave niki in trouble when he heard her life was in danger, even when he was trying to find the button (pretty much the only thing he sees himself as having left at this point) and so he returned. here is what it looks like from niki’s perspective: wilbur told her to wait in manberg until it was safe to come to pogtopia, laid the place with TNT, went to blow up the place, and only returned when he couldn’t find the detonator (and then the first thing she saw him do in pogtopia was encourage the pit behaviour but that’s not what we’re talking about asdfgh). that is massive miscommunication and it’s been brewing between them for months - to make a quirky little reference to the title, niki has been carrying that anger with her so long it's gone bitter. it was never just about l’manberg with niki - not that anger, not her and wilbur’s friendship (hence the little flashback earlier in the fic, bc niki’s relationship to anarchism and statehood or statelessness juxtaposed with her friendships with wilbur and eret - she loves l’manberg bc she loves wilbur, but she loves eret too and those national ties don’t undermine that - is Real Interesting to me) - so when wilbur asks what else there could possibly be (because in his mind, what else could she have bothered staying around for?), she just fucking breaks.

“Niki freezes. Stock still, unable to move, unable to breathe, ice threading its way through her gut...with slow-dawning horror, she can feel hot tears welling up behind her eyes” - prose discussion time! heat and cold are two big throughlines in this fic - particularly for niki, cold is what she is. admittedly when i started with it i mostly wanted to subvert hot = angry and cold = dead but i kinda ended up enjoying this take on it for what it is instead of just as a subversion (also i like the idea of revived people running hot, their bodies r working hard to keep em going). she’s holding onto her feelings and refusing to deal with them, she’s frozen over. descriptions of cold are key to niki’s mental state throughout the fic - cold weight on her chest, feelings of frostbite when she and wilbur hug the first time, ice cold water during the dinner scene, waking up in the cold flat, etc. this was an attempt at describing a more visceral feeling of like, when you’re really mad and you can just feel the adrenaline running through your veins. always felt more cold than hot to me. when she starts to cry, the facade she’s been putting on is finally thawing out and cracking the ice she’s buried her feelings under. (also gives an excuse to write warm comforting hugs towards the end /hj). it’s a loss, it’s catharsis, it’s a whole mess.

and ofc this is all news to wilbur and he feels terrible, because as unintentional as it was, he really really hurt her - because the destruction of l’manberg fucking sucked but above all else wilbur hurt the people he loved because they loved him so much and not in spite of it, because they cared about him so deeply and his death was a massive blow to them. this hasn’t even dawned on him, because how could it? he respects deeply niki (lowkey respects her opinion more than his own at this point) so he has to listen, because it’s niki (“and he looks at Niki the same way he does whenever her voice is being drowned out in a crowd - the way he does when he wants to hear her, when he wants to know what she has to say” - because he does), and what she says fucking floors him. in his eyes, he failed her by putting her in danger and then by destroying her home - the idea that she valued him and their friendship so much flies entirely over his head until this moment, and he is forced to re-evaluate the mindset that has motivated him since… basically since pogtopia! the way i write wilbur is like… yes, he’s one of niki’s closest friends and he’s more aware of her insecurities and issues than most (which is why he does always take the time to listen to her, etc) but he does over-idealise her a bit. tbf, i think he does to some extent with everyone (calling tubbo strong on the anniversary stream, for example). also the fact that he really wasn’t around for niki’s lowest moments as a character! he still thinks of her the way she was in l’manberg - confident, steadfast, respected - and this moment shatters that for him as he realises exactly what effect he and his death had on her and everyone else, not just by his actions, but because they loved him and cared for him so deeply.

sorry that this got horrifically long!! and thank you so much for sending snippets in <3333

#ALSO SORRY THIS TOOK TWO WEEKS. LMFAO #asks #thespoonisvictory #dvd commentary #< i have successfully coerced a discord server into doing the dvd commentary on a regular basis and it is the BEST thing

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theharellan · 4 years ago

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Solas Fan Banter

Here’s a compilation of the fan banter I’ve written over the years between Solas and other canon Dragon Age characters, posted for Dragon Age Day 2020. There are references to a canon divergent Solas/nb!Lavellan companion romance. I’ve regretfully not written any Iron Bull banter that I’m proud enough of to feature here, but if anyone has any suggestions for topics I’d be glad to hear them.

Featured characters: Solas, Cassandra, Varric, Sera, Blackwall, Vivienne, Dorian, Cole, Morrigan, Cullen, Leliana, Valta, Renn, and Arcane Advisor Merrill!

Solas & Cassandra

(after receiving the quest Agrarian Apostate)

Cassandra: And he was not even a mage. Shameful. Solas: Would have it been justified if he was? Cassandra: The Templars have sanction to punish apostates. It would not have been beyond their authority. Solas: I would not call that justified, merely legal. Cassandra: The Templars should be better. Solas: The Chantry armed them and gave them an enemy. That might fuel an army, but will only serve to poison their minds against innocent people, apostates or no.

Solas & Varric

(after killing the Templars during the quest Agrarian Apostate)

Varric: I thought at least away from Kirkwall I could get away from crazy Templars. Solas: You believe they were mad? The men I saw were no different from those who confronted us in Val Royeaux.

(after delivering the ring)

Solas: She seems to be holding up well, considering. Varric: Yeah, but I know a front when I see one. Solas: You believe she was suffering more than she let on? Varric: Oh, I know it, Chuckles. That ring might comfort her when the country gets too quiet, but it won’t dry her tears or– shit, do much else, really. Solas: Some wounds only time heal. Varric: And they always seem to leave ugly scars.

(after beginning Here Lies the Abyss)

Solas: You found Hawke after all. Varric: Oh, you know. All those heroics jogged my memory. Solas: Naturally. Varric: What, you going to lay into me, too? Solas: No, no. I understand why you hesitated. (if Hawke is a mage) Solas: To involve her in a Chantry organisation would not have been wise, at least before it had a chance to prove itself. (otherwise) Solas: Given her involvement in this war, I can only imagine there are those on both sides who would blame her for their present predicament. Varric: You mind telling all that to Cassandra? Solas: I would prefer not to.

(after Here Lies the Abyss, if Hawke is left behind)

Solas: I have read your book, you know. The Tale of the Champion. Varric: I don’t know if now’s the best time. Solas: I understand. I only wanted to say that in reading it, I felt your affection for Hawke in every word. I am... sorry, for what happened. Varric: Thanks, Chuckles. Solas: Of course.

(after Here Lies the Abyss, if Hawke survives)

Solas: You said your farewells to Hawke? Varric: Sure did. Sent letters home, debated sending letters to Weisshaupt. The Wardens will need to know the storm coming their way. Solas: You believe Hawke will pose a problem? Varric: Well, maybe not on purpose.

(in the Hissing Wastes, while exploring dwarven ruins)

Varric: I’m surprised you’re not hounding me about how all this makes me feel, Chuckles. Solas: I had thought we established your disinterest. Varric: Yeah, well. I’m thinking about it, anyway. Solas: If you insist. How does this make you feel, Varric? Varric: There’s a tiny part of me that’s really satisfied, you know? Seeing a Paragon of all people living on the Surface, then the rest of me just doesn’t give a shit. Solas: Tradition is a difficult thing to shake, to be conflicted is expected. Do you think our discovery here ought to be shared with Orzammar? Varric: I don’t know about Orzammar, but I can think of a few Surface dwarves who’d be interested in this.

Solas & Sera

Solas: I could not help but notice what you were drawing at breakfast. Sera: What? I wasn’t drawing anything.

(if Sera is romanced)

Solas: You captured our Inquisitor’s likeness well. Sera: Better than you could.

(otherwise)

Solas: There was no mistaking Dagna’s likeness. What were you carrying? Sera: A bowblade. It’s not a thing yet, but if anyone can make one, Widdle can.

Solas: Have you ever given thought to collaborating together on a piece? Sera: Collaber-what? Piece of what? Solas: A painting, or a drawing if you prefer, what medium you decide upon makes little difference to me. Sera: You really think the two of us could work together on anything? Solas: I was under the impression we had been. Sera: That’s different. The Inquisition’s not an ‘us’ thing, or it is, but not us us.

Sera: Say if I wanted to make something with you, what’d we even make? Solas: You ask the question as if there are limitations. Sera: A dragon, then! No, wait, a butt! (beat) Sera: Nothing? Not even a nose wrinkle? Solas: I am not unopposed to the idea. Sera: Ugh, how can you even make butts boring?

Sera: (handing him a drawing) Here, made you something. Solas: What is this? Are those—shoes? Sera: That’s right. One for each toe. You’re welcome.

(After Solas initiates a relationship with Ian)

Sera: So, you and Freckles, huh? Interesting. Solas: Your interest is not my concern. Sera: I always figured you’d wind with someone who’d make the bumping bits matter. Y’know, drop ‘em and rebuild the empire. Solas: It is not the physical product of our love that matters so much as how he makes me feel when I’m with him. Sera: Eugh.

(If Ian is in the party)

Ian: (laughingly) Vhenan, I would choose your words more carefully next time. Solas: Oh. (slightly embarrassed) I did not mean it like that. Sera: Ha! I’ve made him blush. Solas: This is why I didn’t wish to discuss it.

Solas & Blackwall

(While near Ferb’s old fishing pier in the Exalted Plains)

Blackwall: Wonder if the fishing’s good. If we had an hour or two… Solas: Do you consider yourself an angler, Blackwall? Blackwall: I wouldn’t go that far, but I do enjoy the sport of it. Solas: I’ve never considered it a sport. Blackwall: Probably because you’ve never gone fishing just for the fun of it. Next time we make camp, I’ll show you.

Inquisitor: So, how’d your fishing expedition go? Blackwall: You should’ve seen the size of the gar I wrangled. Solas: It was not half as impressive as he believes. Blackwall: He only says that because all’s he caught were minnows. Solas: (scoffs) Inquisitor: So... where is it? Blackwall: We threw it back, of course. Wasn’t like we were going to eat it. Solas: A convenient excuse.

(Along the Storm Coast)

Blackwall: Ever heard of the pale ship that appears on the mists? The Windy Marcher – I think that’s what they called it. Solas: I cannot say I have. Blackwall: An old story, no idea where it started. Must’ve heard it a dozen times in the Free Marches, always a different ending. Solas: As is often the case with legends, the content and moral changes with the teller. Blackwall: One man claimed he’d seen it himself, said the ship was captained by beautiful spirits who’d called him to the sea. Solas: A case of wishful thinking, I assume. Blackwall: He was a bit of a lonely bastard.

(After Revelations)

Solas: You and Cole seem more friendly, of late. Thom: He took some getting used to, but his heart’s in the right place. There’s enough darkness in the world without pushing away the good. Solas: I imagine it was chilling, knowing he could break your cover on a whim. Thom: That did keep me up some nights, yes. Sometimes I wonder why he didn’t say anything. Solas: Perhaps he saw in you what the Inquisitor sees. Thom: Well, I’m grateful. On both counts.

Solas & Vivienne

(After the events of Bring Me the Heart of Snow White)

Solas: I heard the news of Duke De Ghislain’s death. As I understand it, the two of you were close. My condolences for your loss. (if the Inquisitor gave Vivienne a regular wyvern’s heart) Vivienne: (coldly) There was a chance at saving him, but he is beyond saving, now. At least, by mortal hands. Solas: Then I am all the sorrier. (otherwise) Vivienne: He was at peace, and we had the chance to meet at least one last chance before he passed. Solas: Be thankful for that closure, it will bring you comfort in the days to come. Vivienne: It already has.

Solas: How do you feel about the moniker ‘Madame de Fer?’ Vivienne: Oh, I think it’s darling. Why do you ask? Solas: Iron is cold, unyielding without the proper tools, some may use it as an insult rather than a mark of respect. Vivienne: Of that I’ve no doubt, but let them. I embraced it wholeheartedly, and from then on no one could ever truly use it against me. Solas: True enough, such a tactic has worked for others before.

Vivienne: You will be wearing shoes to the ball, won’t you? Solas: My comfort is not worth jeopardizing the Inquisition’s image, so yes. Vivienne: Many elven servants in Orlais go barefoot, it would hardly be a scandal. Still, it would be beneficial. We must all present as a unit when the time comes, not a single hair out of place. Solas: That will hardly pose a problem for the two of us. Vivienne: (makes a sound almost like a laugh) Right you are.

Solas: There are rumours that your name be put forward as the next Divine. Vivienne: I wonder who might have started those. Solas: After all that has happened these past few months, you believe it possible they will accept a mage into their fold? (if the Inquisitor completed In Hushed Whispers / is a mage) Vivienne: Whyever not? Magic is what solved the problem, after all. Solas: Magic has solved countless problems over the centuries, and yet it is still reviled. Vivienne: I am not any ordinary mage. If any mage can achieve status of Divine, I am she. Solas: On that, we agree. (if the Inquisitor completed Champions of the Just and is a non-mage) Vivienne: With the Inquisitor’s support there is nothing I cannot accomplish, my dear.

Vivienne: The Inquisitor gave you that hood not half a day ago and it already has a hole in it. Solas: Two, in fact. Vivienne: Are you afraid we’ll forget you’re an elf if we go five minutes without seeing your ears? Solas: My estimation of your abilities is not that low, Enchanter, and I would be careful were I you. Two holes cut in a hood is not nearly as desperate as donning a pair of horns every morning.

(After Ian is made Tranquil during his personal quest)

Vivienne: I hope you know what you are doing, my dear. The Rite of Tranquility is not something easily undone. Solas: As I understand it, the Seekers did it quite regularly. Vivienne: And through a far gentler process. What they did to Ian was barbaric, but undoing it is not necessarily a kindness. One might even call it selfish. Solas: I never made any claim to selflessness. Vivienne: Go through with it, and he will relive what happened to him every morning and night for the rest of his life. Solas: (with restrained anger) Do not pretend as though you suddenly care for his well-being now, you showed little regard for him before. Vivienne: It is a warning, nothing more. Solas: Your warning is heeded, but it changes nothing. I am under no illusion this will be simple, but to give up on him now— I would be no better than the Circle that once wanted this same fate for him.

Solas & Dorian

Dorian: That book you have on your desk, Solas… Solas: There are many. Which are you referring to? Dorian: There’s one that looked to be in Ancient Tevene. Do you speak it, or are you just keeping it around to look clever? Solas: I would not go so far as to say I speak it, but I understand it well enough. Dorian: How did you go about learning it? Solas: Memories of Tevinter’s empire litter the land, there is hardly a place in Thedas where the world does not remember it, and with memories come language. Dorian: So you learned through the Fade? Solas: I did, though my pronunciation leaves something to be desired. An unfortunate consequence of learning any language alone. Dorian: I might be able to help, but only if you give me the satisfaction of hearing you muddle through it out loud beforehand. Also, I’ll be next in line when you’ve finished reading that book of yours. Solas: (snorts) Very well.

Solas & Cole

Cole: So they’re nobody, but somebody. Empty shells, filled with someone else’s memory. Solas: For the most part, it seems. Cole: If they’re heartless, why are they so angry? Solas: Perhaps it was not so much the absence of feeling, but the lack of recognition of said feelings. Cole: Belief makes them real, even if they’ll always be different.

Cole: It remembered. Delight in discovery, always pushing further into the unknown— someone like that does not simply disappear, and yet... it cannot remember his name. Solas: Names are not so as important as the spirit of the person they belong to. Cole: It remembered the person. Sadder, but stronger. If I ever return to the Fade, I would like to meet it. Solas: Nothing would delight it more. Cole: Oh, I know. I think we’d be friends.

(After the banter where Solas helps prevent a panic attack)

Cole: You breathe in— one, two, three, four— then out— one, two, three, four— feel the grass beneath your feet, magic between your fingers, remember what is and what was. How long did it take you to learn? Solas: More time than is ideal. Cole: I’m sorry. Solas: There is some comfort in knowing I’ve learned enough to help others with such struggles. Cole: I’ll count with you, if you need. Solas: Thank you, Cole.

Solas: I’m curious how your efforts are coming along since we last spoke. Cole: Josephine misses how saffron tastes, but she hasn’t asked the chef to purchase any. I wrote it on a list when no one was watching. Cullen doesn’t like my letters. He says they don’t make sense. Solas: I cannot imagine he devoted much time to understanding them. Cole: No. Listening is... difficult, when you’ve been taught not to.

Cole: Eyes fall shut, but they do not drift away. Their feet are tethered, tied to the ground. Solas: Even dwarves who lived and died on the Surface never dreamed. Cole: But they are still remembered. The song drowns out their thoughts, but it does not smother them. If I listen, I can hear. Solas: I have seen fewer glimpses of dwarven history than I would like, but there are always memories preserved by particular attentive spirits.

(When passing through the kitchen, or lingering nearby. Solas stands over the stove and Cole sits on a nearby counter, hitting his leg against the wood.)

Solas: Would you like to try it, Cole? Cole: Would it not be a waste? I don’t need to eat. Solas: To overindulge, perhaps. A taste will do you nor the world any harm, a good meal is about more than survival. Cole: Then I’d like to try it, please.

Cole: You don’t have to eat, Solas. Solas: Strictly speaking, no. Cole: Sometimes you do anyway. Solas: When the urge takes me, or if refusing would be seen as ill-mannered.

Solas: If I could ask for your opinion, Cole. Cole: It remembers the garden. The sun bakes it red, colour working through it like a blush upon a maiden’s cheeks. Solas: Excellent. And this? Cole: It was lost in weeds for weeks, neglected and forgotten. It tastes like oversteeped tea. Solas: I see. Then we will find another.

Cole: And it remembers the ocean? Solas: It knows the mountain streams and rocky coasts as well as any well-seasoned traveller, though the paths it takes are laid with smoother stones. Cole: Rough edges wicked away by river waters. Soft enough to stand on without any shoes. Solas: Though one must still take care not to fall. (optional) Inquisitor: Speaking from personal experience, Solas? Solas: I suppose one might say that. Cole: Feet forget the ground, flying out from beneath him, but the rest of him doesn’t follow. Solas: (tinged with embarrassment) As I said. Inquisitor: (chuckles) (otherwise) Cole: But you always get up again.

Solas & Cullen

Cullen: I’m curious how you’ve avoided Templars all these years. Solas: I would prefer not to say. Cullen: I’m no longer a Templar, you know. Solas: Then why do you still wear their heraldry? Or am I mistaken? Cullen: I… Solas: Templar or no, your support for its cause endures. I would not endanger fellow apostates by revealing our methods.

Solas: Master Tethras tells me you served in Kirkwall. Cullen: Varric has no shortage of stories, that one just so happens to be true. Why do you bring it up? Solas: My travels have taken me there, on occasion. Cullen: I admit, I’m curious what your impression was. Solas: All the world is steeped in tragedy, but in Kirkwall the Fade overflows with it. Spells flow from the fingertips with such ease you may forget the Veil altogether. Cullen: That doesn’t surprise me, the amount of abominations I saw during my years there… Solas: They were but a symptom. Kirkwall’s sickness ran deeper than what any one spirit could cure.

Solas & Leliana

Solas: I have heard the Inquisition call you many titles. Sister, Nightingale, Spymaster. Leliana: I have worn many masks, some I’ve liked more than others. Why do you mention it? Solas: Which do I refer to you by? Leliana: (laughs) Whichever you prefer. You may use Leliana, if you wish. Solas: Then I shall see which suits you best.

Solas & Josephine

Josephine: It took several tries, but we managed to remove the wine stain from your sweater. I apologise again for Lady Vérène’s indiscretion. Solas: The fault is hardly yours. It is a pity she is not more open to an apostate’s perspective, but the loss is hers. Extend my sincere gratitude to whoever expunged the mark. I have only a few shirts to my name. Josephine: You know, Solas, now that the Inquisition finds itself in more favourable circumstances, we can afford to purchase you a new wardrobe. Solas: With respect, Ambassador, I value comfort over style. I’m uncertain the Summer Bazaar will be able to accommodate me. Josephine: It would be a most... unusual request, but I believe I know the tailor for the job.

Josephine: Have you found the library to your liking? Solas: I have. I cannot imagine any other circumstance where someone like me could have such unmitigated access to the written word. Most human libraries are not so liberal with their guests. Josephine: I confess, I have never been without books. Ever since I was a child they were always within reach. Solas: Then you must have recommendations. Josephine: One or two come to mind. If I can secure faithful translations, you will have them.

Solas & Morrigan

Solas: You seem well-versed in courtly manners for a woman raised in the wilderness. Morrigan: What are you implying? Solas: That you have a talent for winding nobles around your finger, or that the infamous ‘game’ is not so deadly as they like to believe. Vivienne: Or that more talented souls paved the wave for her. Solas: Another possibility. Morrigan: ‘Tis true that Orlesians overestimate the challenge of this ‘Game’ of theirs. Empress Celene had her desires, and ‘twas a simple matter to keep her satisfied. Vivienne: Which is why you’re with us. Morrigan: With you at my side, I could not help but notice. Vivienne: Believe me, dear. Court enchanter is a trifle compared to where my sights have set.

Solas: I found your son atop the rotunda’s scaffolding today. Morrigan: He has long been fond of climbing, and Skyhold’s trees are too new to bear his weight. Solas: It was no harm. My only regret is I did not have an answer to every question he asked. He is a curious boy. Morrigan: (laughs) That he is.

(During What Pride Had Wrought, upon finding the mosaic of June)

Morrigan: Ah, clever June. The most elusive of the elven gods, insofar as legends are concerned. Solas: Their silence is deafening. Morrigan: I take it you have insight? Solas: Merely that he does not deserve what little credit he is given. Time has forgotten the name of whosoever built the first aravel.

Solas: Rumour spread that Kieran went missing. I trust your presence here means you have found him? Morrigan: I… yes. Solas: He is unharmed? Morrigan: Yes. Solas: Then I am glad. And… you? Morrigan: I have much to think upon, but my son is safe. Everything else can come after.

Solas & Renn

Solas: Tell me, Lieutenant, why did you remain with the Legion? Renn: Having trouble seeing why it’s your business. Why d’you ask? Solas: Escaping would be a simple matter of finding the right battle to slip away from. Freedom would only be a few day’s journey from where we stand. Renn: I couldn’t abandon my men... or my city. Solas: You show great loyalty to Orzammar, considering you will never see it again. Renn: Yeah, well. You never forget your home. Solas: No. I suppose you don’t.

Solas & Valta

Solas: “But the truth is the truth— no matter how political it may be.” Valta: Do you disagree? Solas: Just the opposite. The truth does not change with our ability to stomach it. I am glad a historian such as yourself agrees. Valta: A shame the rest of the Shaperate doesn’t agree with us. Solas: True, but if they had you would not be here, on the brink of uncovering secrets buried centuries ago. In their attempt to keep you out of the way, they unknowingly set you upon the path to even greater knowledge. Valta: Orzammar will know the truth. If I don’t make it, then the Inquisitor— Solas: You are not yet dead, Shaper Valta. Do not count yourself apart from the living so soon.

Solas & Merrill

Merrill: You snort when you laugh. Solas: I’m well-aware. If you are about to ask me to stop, I’m afraid I’ve tried before. Merrill: Oh, it’s not a bad thing. It might be the most charming thing about you. Solas: Damned by faint praise. Merrill: It is a very charming laugh.

Solas: Why did you leave your clan? I read Varric’s Tale of the Champion, but I suspect most of it was a lie. (if present) Varric: Hey! I’m right here. Solas: You did well to lie. To name her as a Dalish mage would be to paint a target upon her back. (otherwise) Merill: I left… I— it wasn’t exactly my choice. There was a mirror, tainted by the Blight. I thought we should fix it, even if it meant turning to blood magic. My Keeper disagreed. Solas: You cleansed the Blight from an eluvian? That is remarkable. Merrill: I used to wonder if it was worth it. I sacrificed so much to get it working, years of my life, my— I’m just glad we’re getting use out of it, now.

Merrill: You’re wrong about my people, Solas. The Dalish aren’t as lost as you think. Solas: They cast you to the streets of Kirkwall, exiled you for the crime of pursuing the duty they tasked you with. Merrill: Some of them said such awful things, they looked at me like I was already a demon, but… that doesn’t mean there isn’t good, too. Sometimes I wonder, had my Keeper not been so against me, if things might have been different. Merrill: I don’t know what they said to you, but I know what their scorn feels like. It hurts, but… there’s so much to admire. Solas: You still feel for them. Merrill: They’re my people, they always will be. No matter how much they might hate me, I’ll always love them. Solas: Put like that, I suppose I understand the sentiment. Merrill: It’s a lonely feeling, isn’t it? Solas: It never ebbs, no. Merrill: Then just— remember them, when you think unkind thoughts about the Dalish. The people you miss, the people you don’t, and what you’d sacrifice for them both.

(in the Exalted Plains, outside the boundaries of Hawen’s camp)

Merrill: (giggles) Datishan was asking about you before we left. Solas: Datishan… Hawen’s little hunter? Merrill: Who else? She wanted to know when you’d be back. Solas: What did you tell her? Merrill: I told her you needed time, that good stories don’t grow on trees. You will go back, won’t you? Solas: It seems I shall have to, or else suffer the wrath of her arrows. Merrill: You joke, but she almost poked out my eye last night. Solas: (chuckles)

#dragonageday #solas #dragon age #dragon4geday #unofficialdragonageday #dragon age inquisition #fan banter #dare to be in the company of those stronger than you ( banter )#( my writing )#[ i'll be reposting the couple new things i wrote for this later ]#[ scheduled post ]

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broadstbroskis · 5 years ago

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surprises- pt 5 | mat barzal

part 4

There are babies fucking everywhere and your heart cannot take it. There are adorable little faces in huge oversized headphones staring up at you with wide eyes while they sport tiny little Islanders jerseys and logically, you know there’s no reason that any of that should make you cry, but you can’t help the tears that form in your eyes as you bounce Collins Eberle on your hip.

“And you have the cutest little nose!” You bop her nose with your finger; she giggles and you sniffle.

“Okay.” Lauren says, appearing next to you. “I remember those days. Come with me.”

“Don’t steal your baby back!” You pull Collins closer to you.

She smiles warmly at you. “I won’t. We’re just going to talk about how you’re doing.” Lauren gentles you over to a couple of seats that give you a better view of the ice, and you settle in with Collins in your lap, just in time to watch Mat send a great pass cross-ice for Jordan to tap in for a goal. When you clap, Collins mimics the motions and that’s fucking it. You burst into tears.

Lauren is calm and patient, offering you a sip of her water and gently patting your back, as she uses her other hand to entertain her baby, and fend off tears from a second human. “So how are you doing?”

Well, things have been better, that’s for sure. You don’t think you’ve slept for more than three hours at a time for the last two weeks, which has meant a lot of naps-and thanking god that your boss has been allowing you to be flexible with working from home to do so. Every time Mat walks into the room, you immediately either want to shove him against the wall or run your fingers through his hair, which has led to some significant sexual frustration that you haven’t been able to relieve on your own, no matter how much you try.

“Not well.” You admit, settling for the tamest answer you can with someone who’s only recently become a friend. “I cannot, for the life of me, get comfortable, especially when I sleep. It’s this way, then that way, and the baby’s definitely moving now so sometimes that keeps me up or when the baby’s not moving, sometimes that keeps me up, because should they be? And then I get caught in this spiral of thoughts that just-”

“Is everything healthy?” Lauren interrupts.

“What?” You frown.

“When you went for your last scan, your last appointment?” She asks. “Did your doctor tell you everything looked good, that there was anything to worry about?”

You shake your head. “No, she said everything looked good.” And it had. The last ultrasound you’d had was one of the coolest things you’d ever seen- to see so many different parts of the baby, to know that they were growing okay, the way they were supposed to be. It’d been breathtaking. You still weren’t over it. Mat was actually speechless, for once in his life.

“Then I know this is going to be hard,” Lauren says. “But don’t worry about stuff like that. You’ll only drive yourself crazy, stress yourself out unnecessarily, and we don’t want that. Trust me.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and then reach for the bottle of water again. “They’ll tell you if you need to worry about anything, I promise.”

That’s...a really good point. “Thank you.” You tell her and she grins.

“We’re all here for you.” Lauren’s talking to you, but beaming down at her daughter. “I mean it, not just me and the rest of the new moms, because I know we’ve already talked.” You’d burst into tears when a chat of unknown numbers had started blowing up your phone and as they’d all started giving names that you’d instantly recognized as wives of Mat’s teammates, the purpose of the chat became clear: a place of support for all new moms. “This entire team. Mat’s one of our own and you’re stuck with him now.”

You actually manage a laugh at that. “I needed that.”

“You’re just not used to it.” She grins, taking back her baby, who’s just starting to fuss at the lack of movement and stops immediately once Lauren begins to bounce her in her lap. “But as long as you remember that we’re all here for you, that it’s not just you and Mat alone in this, you’ll be okay.”

You manage to smile at her, even as tears start pooling in the corner of your eyes. You are 100% confident that you’ve cried more since you became pregnant than in your entire life before that combined. You can’t tell if it’s the tears filling your eyes that make it seem like the room is off its axis or the kindness of Lauren’s words tilting your world around, but baby-free, you reach for the empty water bottle and offer an excuse about getting another one, to leave before you burst into tears, although you’re sure she wouldn’t mind or judge.

And nope, it’s actual spinning, and you feel yourself tilting as you stand before collapsing back down into your chair immediately.

-----

“Really,” You insist, as the Islanders’ team doctor pulls his stethoscope out of his ears and reaches for the blood pressure cuff. “I’m fine.”

“You passed out!” Lauren exclaims.

“Barely!” You tell her. “I came right back to!”

She gives you a look. “Were you or were you not just freaking out about all the possible things that could be wrong with the baby and yourself?”

You hesitate. “Well yeah, but-”

“But nothing.” She tells you. “You’re going to sit and be given an all clear.”

You’re waiting for one more test, watching the start of the postgame show and sipping on a glass of water, when the door opens and Tito stops abruptly, still half dressed for the game. “What are you doing here?”

“Nothing.” You hasten to say.

“She passed out.” Lauren tells him.

Tito rounds on you and it’s then you see the blood dripping down his eyebrow. “YN!”

“What happened to you?” You cry at him, attempting to change the subject.

He waves it off. “High stick, stitches are splitting. Don’t worry about it.”

You frown at him.

Tito grins back. “Drink your water.”

“Yes, please.” Lauren agrees. She turns to Tito. “I’ve got to go rescue Grace. Can I trust her with you? You’ll make her stay sitting, make sure she keeps drinking, tells Mat?”

“What!” You protest, but Tito drowns you out, assuring Lauren that he will, of course he will, he’ll take care of everything.

“Tito-” You start.

“Don’t.” He says, sounding nothing like the bright and fun guy you know and love. “Don’t hide this from him.”

“Okay.” You agree quietly, already thinking about how you’re going to tell Mat.

It turns out you don’t even need to. Mat’s already heard about it through the grapevine; he’s standing as close to the door to the office as he can without physically leaning against it and as soon as you walk out, he pulls you into his arms. “Are you okay?” He demands.

You’re grateful for Tito behind you. “I’m fine.” He jokes, which does little to ease Mat’s concern.

In fact, Mat just glares at him as he tucks you deeper into his side. “I am.” You assure him, and he softens a little as he turns to look at you. “A little dehydrated and a lot tired. Just need to rest.”

“I can do that!” He says determinedly, like he’s going to personally and single-handedly fix your inability to sleep.

You keep your skepticism to yourself, only because he sounds so worried and he’s holding onto you pretty tightly that it doesn’t seem worth it to start a fight. But Tito’s got the same look on his face, and at least you might get a few laughs out of it.

-----

Laughs was definitely the wrong thing you’re getting out of this night.

Mat drops you off and as you change into a comfy pair of leggings and oversized hoodie to hang out in, it doesn’t even occur to you that he’ll be doing to same thing until he walks back across the hall in sweatpants that hang unfairly low and a worn t-shirt that’s definitely just a little too small for him now. It drifts up showing the smallest hint of abs every time he reaches or twists or moves.

Abs you vividly remember running your fingers over. You have to look away quickly each time for fear you won’t be able to look away at all.

It doesn’t help that Mat is straight up fussing over you. Are you comfy? Can he get you another glass of water? How about some juice? He was reading such and such last week and it said- “You read?” You blurt out, before you can help yourself.

“Of course I’ve been reading!” Mat says, sounding almost offended by the accusation. “I mean, not as much as you have, but some stuff.” You laugh, looking up at him from your spot on the couch. “Ok, it’s taking me a really long time to do it, but there’s a lot to get through! There’s so many parenting books!”

You can certainly agree with that, as you’ve been trying to make your way through all the recs that people have sent you. “I’m good, Mat.” You tell him, and then, trying to soften the blow you’d just dealt him, you pat the spot next to you. “Just come sit.”

He does, slouching down on the couch as he kicks his feet up on the coffee table and rests his head against you. You tense for a moment, as the familiar scents of both Mat and his shampoo overwhelm your senses, having him that close. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” You lie. “The baby’s just moving a lot right now.”

His eyes light up and then suddenly all you see is Mat’s giant hand covering your bump. “Sorry,” He says, starting to pull it back. “Can I?”

“Sure,” You say helplessly, unable to take your eyes off his fingers, his very capable fingers, as they dance along your belly.

“I can’t feel anything.” He says, disappointed, resting his palm over your belly button.

It’s not quite where the movement is, but he’d passed over where it was and hadn’t felt anything. “It’s early.” You reason, trying to keep your voice even.

Mat grins up at you and you almost can’t breathe at how excited he looks. “Yeah, we’ll just keep trying!” He curls closer into you. “Maybe after a nap, though.”

“Maybe.” You agree, even though there’s no way you’ll be able to sleep with Mat lying against you like this. Your thoughts are already racing and it’s all you can do to counter every memory of the nights you’ve spent with Mat before with something to calm you down.

Minimally successful. Mat’s lying there, with his beautiful bone structure and his hair keeps brushing against your nose with every breath you take, so you go to shove it away, only to be distracted, by how soft it is. Each gentle brush through the silky locks sends a fresh wave of the scent of his shampoo to your nose. It’s like whiplash, how quickly you’re going from calm to turned on, and back.

“Mmm, that feels good.” You hear suddenly and your hand freezes. “No, why’d you stop?” Mat whines and you’re not about to tell him that the smell of his shampoo makes you want to climb in his lap and do all kinds of things to him, so you pick up with it. “Did you get a nice nap?”

“No.” You grumble, before you can even think about lying to him.

“What?” He frowns, looking like your lack of nap is the end of the world. “Well, come on, let’s-” He pats his lap as he slides over on the couch, like he’s giving you room to lie down.

But that’s absolutely not going to work. “No!” You cry, jumping up, rant starting without your permission, that definitely wouldn’t have if you weren't so exhausted. “No, nope! I can’t sleep ever, I can’t get comfortable, I can’t stop thinking about your stupid hands and your stupid fingers and your stupid penis so it won’t even matter-” Ok, you are saying a lot of things here. “And now that I have thoroughly embarrassed myself-”

“Do you really think my dick is stupid?” Mat interrupts, looking down for a moment before looking back at you.

“That’s what you took from that?” You cry. You can’t-you can’t deal with this right now. You might not be able to sleep, but you need to go to bed. You’ll toss and turn for hours if it means getting away from this.

You hear Mat stand and start to walk, but don’t realize that it’s to come after you (and not to take your hint to go home) until he grabs your hand. “Uh yeah, that’s what I took from that.” He says, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “I’m not going to kiss you again if you really think my dick is stupid.”

“Truly, you could be the worst guy in bed ever and I don’t think I’d care right now.” You admit to him, as his fingers start to dance up your side. “But I was sleeping with you for three months, and I know you know that’s not true.”

He shrugs, the only move to close the distance between the two of you being his other hand coming to rest on your low back. “I mean, maybe it was just a lack of options. Stuck in quarantine, you know?”

“Mathew.” What you intend to sound like a warning comes out as more of a whine and he grins.

“Yeah, okay.” He grins and when he does kiss you, it’s like instant tension relief.

It’s the first time you sleep a full night in weeks and you don’t even realize until you wake up the next morning, still naked, wrapped in Mat’s arms. Maybe he can single-handedly fix your inability to sleep.

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fan fic #mat barzal fanfiction #hockey imagines #hockey fanfiction #hockey fanfic #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #my hockey fics #surprises series

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itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto · 5 years ago

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Pumpkin Spice and All Things Nice. Part 1.

A/N: Hi everyone! This is a follow up to ‘Sugar, Yes please!’ so if you haven’t read that, I’d recommend you read that first, and come back to this. Possible triggers: Mentions of an abusive relationship, swearing, drinking (alcohol).

“Coming!” You say as your doorbell rang to your flat, and opened it to your girlfriends, JJ, Penelope and Emily. “Come in…” You say opening the door for them all. “Just excuse all of the books.” The girls exchanged looks with each-other before Penelope whispered, “She’s basically a female boy wonder.” “When he sees all of her books, he’s going to read them all.” Emily laughed picking up one called ‘The Language Instinct: How the Mind Creates Language by Steven Pinker’ and rolled her eyes. “So, what do you all want to drink?” You asked, before your date with Spencer, the girls agreed to just make sure you felt ready for your date after your last boyfriend didn’t treat you well, and the girls agreed to make sure you are comfortable for tomorrow. “I got beer, wine and I can make cocktails too.” You said gesturing to the alcohol stand on your counter. “Do you like to drink Y/N?” J.J laughed. “I see the cute lights are up that you told Spencer about.” You smile at the pumpkin and ghost lights before replying, “I used to be a cocktail waitress for a year, so it’s kind of stuck, experimenting with flavours to see what I come up with. Ooh, I’ll make you all the Pumpkin Spiced Latte cocktail I’ve been working on.” You say and start to whip it up. “So, yes.” Penelope giggled “Yeah, I usually like a cold beer on the balcony, reading a book and having a cigarette. It’s my favourite way to relax. The wine is for guests, I don’t like it, but I think it’s important to always have a bottle of red and white in for company.” You shrug and poor the cocktail into a glass, finishing it with a dusting of mixed spice. “My kind of girl.” Emily said. “May I?” She asks gesturing to the wine. “Of course – help yourselves to anything alcoholic.” You smile as Emily opens the bottle pouring herself and J.J a glass. “Ooh it does taste like a Pumpkin Spiced Latte!” Penelope giggled and continued drinking it. “Fucking hell it does!” J.J said sipping a bit of the other glass. “That’s addictive girl.” Emily laughed. “You should make one for Spencer when he comes to your place after the date.” She winked, “You may even get some action!” “I’ve never had sex on the first date!” You exclaimed, “Maybe on like date 10…” “10?! Y/N you’re such a cutie.” Penelope said putting a cocktail umbrella in her hair For the rest of the evening, you and the BAU ladies took cute selfies, and chatted about non-work-related things. “Bye ladies.” You say as they all get into a taxi and go back into your flat. You clean your kitchen, noticing it’s only 10PM, so decide to have your relaxing routine, and grab a beer out of the fridge and your packet of cigarettes, and sit by the balcony for a few hours before calling it a night. The following morning, you get up and get ready for your date with Spencer, you are pretty glad it’s a casual date as you really hate dressing up. Your phone rings, and you sigh assuming it’s work, “Agent Y/N.” You say yawning. “Oh hi, sorry did I wake you?” Spencer asks worried. “Morning Spencer, no, I was just doing exam revision. Everything okay? Are we needed at work?” You ask “No, I just realised I don’t have your address.” He laughed “For a genius, I thought you’d have that already.” You chuckled and told it to him. “Great! See you at 12.” Spencer said. “Bye Y/N.” “Bye Spencer.” You say, and hang up, going to get ready settling for a cute ghost t-shirt, black jeans and orange converse, you are going pumpkin picking after all, and wear the Pumpkin earrings your friend got you last year. Whilst you wait, you read a book on Psychology. There’s a knock at the door, you’d been reading for an hour and didn’t realise you’d read 10 books from cover to cover. “Coming!” You say checking who’s at the door through the spy hole, and smile seeing its Spencer. “Hi Spence, come in.” You smile, “Ignore the books everywhere. I try to tidy them but they just grow.” Spencer smiled, finally someone who loves books as much as him, “Hi Y/N. You look nice.” He smiled, opting for a t-shirt, cardigan, jeans and converse. “And pumpkin earrings, very fitting for today.” He said, “Have you been reading those last night?” He asked gesturing the 10 books on your sofa and took a seat. “May I sit?” He asks as you nod smiling, everyone on the team knows that they can make themselves at home at your place. “I read them in the last hour, they’re really interesting.” You smile. “I just need to put my eyeliner on and I’m ready.” You say “You don’t need to wear make up Y/N, you’re perfectly fine without it.” Spencer said accidentally out loud “You think so?” You ask as a few tears roll down your cheeks. The last guy you dated insisted you wore make up, and would hit you if you didn’t, Spencer doesn’t know of your past relationship and you definitely don’t want a repeat. “Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Spencer says running over with a tissue. “You can wear it if you want, but I don’t think you need it.” He says kissing your cheek where the last tear lingered. “It’s okay Spence. I know you didn��t mean it.” You whisper, “Before we go, I need to tell you something. Because I don’t want to tell it to you too late.” Spencer nods, as you sit on the sofa. You tell Spencer about your abusive relationship before this, and how badly you were treated but managed to get out of it and get help when you started at the FBI, your ex now has a restraining order and cannot be within a certain distance from you or he will get arrested. “Oh Y/N, you’re the sweetest person I know, and I promise I won’t ever hurt you, either mentally or physically. I promise.” He said holding your hand. You nod, “I know Spence.” You say, believing his promise. “Let me get my phone and I’m ready. You look nice too by the way.” Spencer nods and ties his shoelace, “How many books do you own? I’ve counted 252 but I assume there is more.” He says glancing around the room “Erm, I have more in my room, and in the little library. I brought the place off a couple who had a baby but the flat was too small, so I converted the small room where the baby slept into a library, so I think there’s about 325 books in there. Have a look if you want.” You say putting your phone in your pocket. Spencer goes and has a look, “You were wrong. There’s 326 books.” He says laughing. “Sorry.” You giggle. “Must’ve forgot the book worm has to be included in the book count. Now come on, I wanna pick a pumpkin to carve!” You say unaware Spencer put a book in there for you. Spencer follows you out, and he drives to the pumpkin patch where there’s a long line. “Thank you.” You giggle getting out of the car, where Spencer dashed over to open the door for you. “Do you think we can use our credentials to get past the line?” “I don’t think Strauss would approve.” Spencer laughed, “But I booked ahead and got a time slot.” He said getting the paper tickets out of his pocket and handed them to an employee who checked them and allowed them inside. “Can I keep one?” You ask Spencer, who nods smiling and hands one to you. “I have a memory box. Everything fun I do with you and the team goes in there.” You explain. The rest of the afternoon is spent finding the perfect pumpkin, and getting to know each-other better, as there’s only so much you can get to know one another at work. By now, you have a full wheelbarrow of pumpkins. “Let me take your picture with all of them!” You say to Spencer who poses behind them. “Let’s see the photo!” He smiles at you, as you show it to him on your phone. “Can you send it to Penelope? I want to get it printed for my Mum.” He says as you nod.

After the pumpkin patch, Spencer drives you back to your flat. “Would you like to come in for a drink?” You offer, biting your lip. “Sure.” Spencer smiled, carrying the pumpkins you brought, and you carried the baby ones. “I had a lot of fun today Spence, thank you.” You smiled “As did I.” He said, as you walked into your apartment. “Holy shit, this is incredible.” Spencer says drinking the pumpkin spiced latte cocktail you made for him. “Thanks.” You say, sipping your beer. “I like to experiment. Penelope drank 5 of them last night.” “I can see why.” Spencer smirked, just looking at you with loving eyes. “What are you thinking?” You ask “That I want to kiss you.” Spencer said nervously. “Then kiss me.” You say and sit on his lap. Looks like the pumpkins won’t be carved any time soon… To be continued! Taglist: @pumpkin-goob , @jpegjade , @andiebeaword , @hotchsbabygirl , @hopebaker , @hercleverboy , @cupcake525 , @gubetube , @aperrywilliams , @cosmic-psychickitty , @marleyhotchner

#Criminal Minds #spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #my fics

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shannaraisles · 4 years ago

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Detective Serena Langford

(profile created by @possumsunshine)

QUICK READ OF YOUR DETECTIVE:

Name: Serena Langford Pronouns: She/Her Sexuality: Heterosexual Love interest: Mason Best friend: Nate Main skill: Combat Secondary skill: People/psychology Main personality trait: Friendly Secondary personality trait: Genuine Why did they join the Wayhaven PD?: Rebellious youth Relationship with Rebecca: Not close, not hostile Relationship with Bobby: Ex-boyfriend, trying not to think about it Verda or Tina?: Tina Murphy bite?: Neck Murphy’s fate?: Escaped Rescue LI or Rescue Sanja?: Sanja

GENERAL:

Full Name: Serena Rose Langford Nickname: N/A (until Mason starts calling her "sweetheart") Birthday: 29th February Age: 29 Pronouns: She/Her Sexuality: Heterosexual Hair: Chestnut brown, natural loose curls to mid-back, worn down Eyes: Hazel brown, 20/20 vision Height: 5'4" Piercings: Two in each earlobe, right side of nose Tattoos: A small pair of purple and pink Sweetheart candy hearts on her left side (side boob), with the words Fuck and Off inside them Clothing Style: Girly, bright; tends toward pretty dresses, cardigans or jackets, and combat boots with pockets Apartment Style: Cosy and warm, lots of soft things and comfortable furniture, warm colours on the wall, photographs and old artwork, and lots of books

STATS:

KEY DECISIONS:

Reason for joining the Wayhaven PD: Without much in the way of parental supervision or discipline growing up, Serena was an angry child and teenager, fairly quick to fall in with the "wrong" crowd, committing acts of petty vandalism and minor violence. She cleaned up her act when she went to college, but then he happened, and she dropped back into bad habits. Thanks to the memory of her father (and unknown to her, her mother's influence), she was offered jail time or community service assisting the police in Wayhaven. She took the community service, met Tina, cleaned up her act, and never left since. Murphy bite: Wrist | Neck | None Murphy’s Fate: Captured | Escaped Rescued: Love Interest | Sanja

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP:

Love Interest: Mason Why them?: Honestly? Because he showed an interest and enjoyment in getting under her skin, to begin with. She's always been drawn to the "bad boy", but has been burned a few times, so her reactions are not enthusiastic. The fact that he starts losing some of his sharper edges while not giving up on teasing her just appeals to something in her. And she kind of understands the prickly outsides - she used to do it herself, and she knows how lonely that gets. Bold, shy, or mixed?: She is shy as all hell when he starts flirting, and it doesn't really improve. Serena's been burned, and has made herself touch-starved through trying to avoid another burning, but Mason slides right past all those barriers without even trying. What were their first impressions of each other?: Serena thought he was gorgeous, an absolute jerk, and wanted to know why; Mason thought she was pretty but too weak to handle the world, and part of him wanted to protect her from it. What do they find attractive about each other, mentally or physically?: Obviously they both share a very physical attraction! Serena is absolutely enchanted by Mason's eyes; he's fascinated by the way her body curves as she moves. Mentally, it's almost a case of opposites attract on the surface - Mason loves her softness and the quiet she carries around with her, but also finds her ability to throw herself competently into combat incredibly hot; Serena is intrigued by the softer glimpses she gets of his personality every now and then, and she actually enjoys his often crass sense of humor. What do they do to spend time together?: In the beginning, their time together consisted of him just being present while she went about her daily life, but slowly he started to incorporate his own activities into hers. They don't really set time aside for each other so much as mesh their day-to-day until it feels wrong not to know exactly where the other is at all times. What are their love languages?: They're both quality time/physical touch people How do they handle being apart from one another?: They're usually okay about it, but the longer it goes, the more irritable Mason gets, and the more edgy Serena gets. If the reason for being apart is a mission, Mason will be a growly nightmare for anyone else he's with while he waits; Serena is a quiet worrier Do they argue? How do they handle arguments and disagreements? How do they make up?: They do argue, usually over Mason's inability to people anyone he doesn't have a connection with and Serena's inability not to people with anyone she meets. Arguments are fiery flare ups - no shouting, but tense words (and a lot of looming on Mason's part); disagreements are calmer, more irritable than angry, and usually quickly settled. Making up after an argument involves intimacy and pillow talk. What does their future look like?: Serena genuinely doesn't know. She's almost afraid to think about the future, not wanting to have to acknowledge that she might have to say goodbye at some point. Mason, on the other hand, just assumes that she will always be there, and sees no need to bring it up in conversation. Anything else you’d like to share: Even after becoming official, he still loves teasing her, just because she always reacts with the same shy flutter he got from her the first time. It's even better when they're not alone.

BEST FRIEND RELATIONSHIP:

Best friend: Nate Why them?: He feels like a safe haven for her, someone she can be quiet with, who won't judge her for having moods and is happy to just hang out in silence. Nate is her confidante; everything she tells him is absolutely sacred and secret, and he will only use what he knows to nudge Mason if he's absolutely certain the problem is with him, not both of them. What were their first impressions of each other?: Serena's first thought was "tall". Nate thought she was adorable, at first. What do they do to spend time together?: Perhaps unsurprisingly, they spend a lot of time in the same room, reading different books, in comfortable silence. They also will visit museums and watch documentaries, and Serena loves picking his brain about the history he's lived and how it differs from what's taught and studied. She also got him into geo-caching, thanks to one day at a loss for how to spend time with both Nate and Mason without one or the other getting bored and weird. Anything else you’d like to share: Nate is the only person Mason will allow to play with Serena's hair. Anyone else touches it, he will start a fight, physical or otherwise.

OTHER RELATIONSHIPS:

Relationship with Rebecca: Awkward, but not hostile. Serena gets that her mother's job is the reason they never really spent time together, but she does still resent her for putting her career ahead of her daughter. They have a professional working relationship, but Serena has been burned too often to try for anything closer, no matter what Rebecca wants. Relationship with Rook: She never had one. She has no memories of her father, and Rebecca never talked about him. The closest thing she had to a father was the grumpy old man next door who let her smoke on his porch when she was twelve. Relationship with Bobby: Ex-boyfriend. Serena's first real love, she threw herself into it, shared everything with him ... and then he used what he knew to sell copies of his college paper. These days, she does her best to avoid him as much as possible,and when she can't, she tries to let him do all the talking so she won't give away how angry she still is with him for his behaviour when they were young. Relationship with Verda: Close and friendly, probably the closest to a true family dynamic she has before Unit Bravo enter her life. Hates keeping the secret from him, but knows him well enough to know that he would not take knowing it very well at all. Relationship with Tina: Roommates at college who never really grew out of each other, definitely more like sisters than friends. The only reason they don't live together is because Serena has issues with opening her home to random friend groups, and Tina definitely doesn't. They joined WPD at the same time, for different reasons, and most people attribute Serena's change in attitude to her friendship with Tina. Relationship with the Mayor: She cannot stand the man, but does her best to be professional and polite with him. Relationship with Capt. Sung: Professional, but uncomfortable. He is her superior and she obeys, but she knows he only gave her the job because he wanted to not have to be in the station daily. Relationship with Haley: Went to school together - not the closest of friends, not enemies, just were in the same friend group for a while. Haley was one of the few who did not back off from Serena when she went off the rails. Relationship with Elidor: Serena absolutely loves Elidor, especially those fantastic hugs he gives out! Relationship with Tapeesa: She thinks she's sweet, and will go out of her way to sneak her chocolate when she can. Not a friend, but not indifferent, either. Relationship with Unit Alpha: They're fun every now and then, but she doesn't like the way they tease Bravo. UB are her boys, she's got their backs no matter what. Relationship with the Maa-alused: More fascination than anything, but also considered to be a friendly ally by Falk and his kin. Serena's not sure quite what she thinks of them, and is a little afraid of their capabilities. Do they have any other important relationships, past or present? (Relatives, friends, etc.?): The most important relationship - her cat, Zeus. So named because, before she got him neutered, he'd fathered most of the kittens in the neighbourhood.

PERSONAL BIO:

Describe their personality: Friendly, warm, but doesn't take shit lying down. She can be relied upon to think of others as individuals, rather than part of a collective. Life does, on occasion, suck, but she's determined to suck back. Strengths: Kind, friendly, will break your nose if you push her Weaknesses: Keeps a lot to herself, insecure, shy at times Where in the world is their Wayhaven?: Scottish Highlands, south and a little east of Aberdeen What is their personal history?: Looked after by various neighbours after Rook's death when she was two, Serena didn't really see much of her mother at all during her formative or teenaged years. She was a good student in primary and middle, but started to go off the rails in secondary school, hanging with the "wrong" crowd, and being repeatedly picked up for drug possession, vandalism, and theft. Attended two years of university (age 18-20), where she met Tina and made fast friends with her. However, also dated Bobby and the break up was the catalyst for her dropping out and going home. Tina also dropped out around the same time. At a loss, and with no parental approval or disapproval, Serena went back to the old crowd, but this time was picked up during an attempt to jack a car. Because of her previous arrests, she was on the verge of getting jail time, but for the intervention of Rebecca, which resulted in Serena being put into community service with the police force of Wayhaven. She thrived in the role, and when her community service was over, both she and Tina joined the little police force together. Fast forward eight years, and the old detective retired, leaving a gap in the hierarchy. Serena suspects she was promoted purely because of who her father was and who her mother is, and resents both of them for it. If they weren’t a detective, what would their dream job be?: If there was a way to get paid for being curled up in a comfy chair, reading, that would be it.

RANDOM FACTS:

Zodiac sign: Pisces Hobbies: Reading, combat training, hiking Likes: Comforting patterns and soft textures, a good physical fight, hugs Dislikes: Being underestimated, getting drunk, the neighbours using all the hot water in the building before she showers Drink of choice: Coffee Starbucks order: Caramel macchiato Favorite food: Haley's maple pecan pastries Favorite color: Red/grey Favorite music: Classical piano Favorite genre (and favorite movie/book/etc): Action or romance. Favourite action film is Demolition Man; favourite romance book is Sense & Sensibility. Favorite season: Autumn

#wayhaven chronicles #my detective #face claim - tatiana maslany #romance - mason

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