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builtbybrokenbells · 1 year

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Bugs, Bears, and a Thunderstorm

On a camping trip that y/n wasn’t particularly eager to go on, a set of unfavourable circumstances leads to the best possible outcome, leaving her to believe camping may not be so bad, after all.

Pairing: Danny Wagner x f!reader

Word count: 12.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (fuck just please wear protection), fingering (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), face-sitting, sort of rough sex, bit of slapping ig, teasing, name calling, biting, touch of orgasm denial, touch of a daddy kink towards the end (im sorry, im terrible, ik), drinking, swearing, camping (deserves a warning), sorry if I missed any!!

ok without further ado, here it is! I’ve been working on this for like a week and was hoping to have it out days ago. but alas, im on day 3 of one of the worst hangovers I’ve ever had and i think i perhaps may be dying. anyway, im so down bad for this man it’s not even funny. sweet stuff at the beginning, the ending is pretty filthy. i have no explanation for it 😌 enjoy, and as always be kind and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

The sun was warm, inviting you in with its gentle embrace and loving touch. You sat under it, birds chirping in the distance and the smell of the trees filling your nose. The trickle of the lake nearby was calling to you, begging for you to jump in and feel the water on your skin. You made a mental note, ensuring you’d check it out before the day was through. The grass below you was tickling your thighs, reminding you how loving the earth could be if you treated it right. Peacefulness wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the scene. The stress melted off your body as if it never existed. Just by sitting there, you seemed to be able to forget about all of your other worldly troubles.

The serenity was disturbed when voices broke through the air, laughing and joking echoing like the owners didn’t realize you were enjoying the silence. You turned your head, eyes settling on a group of boys. You wanted to be mad, to scold them for disrupting your solitude, but you couldn’t. The minute they came into your line of vision, a smile was breaking out on your lips. “Trying to catch a tan?” Jake asked, taking a seat next to you on the ground.

“Maybe, more or less just enjoying some peace and quiet away from you guys.”

“Oh, come on, Mama, you know you love us.” Josh teased, taking up the empty spot on the other side of you.

“Depends on the day, really.” You shrugged off his comment, giving him a smile. He placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt, giving a dramatic gasp. “Oh, shut up, you know I do.” You assured him. He placed his arm around you, pulling you into his side.

“You know, for someone who said she doesn’t like camping, you seem to be enjoying the trip so far.” Sam chirped, taking a seat on a lawn chair not far off from where the three of you were sitting on the grass. Danny followed suit, sitting in one beside him.

“I like the outdoors, Samuel. I don’t like tents, or bugs, or bears.” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“That doesn’t really make it sound like you like the outdoors, either.”

“Sun! The sun is fantastic! Swimming is great, too! Hikes and fresh air and all of that is awesome! But, I like my bed, and I prefer to sleep without a million bugs trying to bite me, and the thought of not being eaten by a bear is very comforting.” You argued. He held his hands up in surrender, conceding from the discussion. “Besides, having a kitchen is great, and you know, a roof, in case of extreme weather is excellent, too.”

“Fine, I suppose you have a point.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Speaking of hikes,” Jake turned to look at you, now “we’re getting ready to go check out the trails. Care to join?”

“I was actually going to see the lake over there.” You were honest. You’d love to go with them, but the water was calling your name, and you knew that if you went with the boys, you may not be back until dark.

“You bring your life jacket?” Jake smiled, nudging you with his elbow.

“My god, you guys really know how to disturb the peace.” You shook Josh’s arm off you, standing now.

“You were the one who agreed to come with us.” Sam reminded.

“After you begged me to come!” You snipped.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved you off, all of them standing now, too. “Daniel will stay and keep you company, just to make sure that bear doesn’t get you.” He winked. The three brothers stalked off, going to collect their bags from the cabin. You watched them walk away, then turned to look at the boy they’d left behind.

“You don’t have to stay with me, Danny.” You assured him.

“I don’t mind,” he gave a nervous smile. You felt your stomach flutter at the sight. “Sometimes I just need a break from them, too.” He admitted.

It was day one of the camping trip you’d been coerced into going on. The boys had a break from touring, and you took some vacation time to spend with them for their time home. You’d arrived earlier that morning after the boys packed their cars with necessities and food. You’d split up into two cars. Sam and Danny had arrived together, and you and the twins went in the other vehicle. You were on the fence about going, due to all the reasons aforementioned. But, you’d managed to convince the boys to rent a cabin rather than rough it in tents, making your uneasiness about the plan a bit better.

After unpacking and throwing the food in the refrigerator, you’d all went your own way for a while. You found yourself content in a patch of sun by the fire pit, leading yourself to your current situation. Now the boys were gone, and you were alone with Danny, who’d managed to win your heart over from the minute you met him. Somehow, he still made you nervous even after years of knowing him.

Your apartment building was nestled in the heart of Nashville. You kept to yourself aside from a few friends you still had from high school, whom you’d spent almost all of your free time with. You were a local bar frequent, spending every weekend going out for karaoke and a few games of pool with your group, just for something to do. You weren’t the biggest fan of drinking, but adored the social aspect.

After one particularly rowdy night, you woke the next morning to banging and crashing in your hallway, covered up almost completely by loud voices. In your hungover state, you decided to check out the scene, wondering who was causing the disturbance in your normally, mostly calm complex. You hoped maybe you could reason with them to keep it down, just to keep your migraine at bay. You washed your face and pulled your hair back, throwing on some clean, comfortable clothes before investigating. When you peeked your head out your front door, you were taken back by the amount of items littering the otherwise empty space. You only had to wonder for a moment before a group of three boys you’d never seen before popped out from an apartment across the hall.

“Well, hello.” A shorter boy with curly hair gave you a breathtaking smile. You tried your best to return it, suddenly feeling very nervous.

“H-hi,” you stuttered, stepping into the hallway. You were too invested now, having to see the interaction through. “You guys moving in?” You asked, addressing all three of them. You noted how similar they all looked.

“We are!” The curly haired boy said, motioning to a strikingly similar boy beside him with long, wavy hair. “I’m Josh, and this is Jake.” He introduced them both. “We’re twins!” You couldn’t help but giggle at him. He was so bubbly and welcoming.

“I’m y/n.” You stepped forward, holding your hand out for them to shake. After the introduction with the twin boys, the taller boy stepped forward, pushing past the other two.

“I’m Sam,” he gave a smile, shaking your hand, too. “The younger, but better, brother.” You laughed at his words.

“So you’re all brothers?” Josh gave you a nod. “Must have been a full house growing up, then.”

“We have a sister, too.” Jake chuckled, leaning against the wall.

“Wow,” you exhaled, unable to imagine that many siblings. “I’ve got one, and she’s way younger than me.” You laughed. “I couldn’t imagine growing up with that many kids in the house.”

“We never killed each other, so I guess it turned out alright.” Sam grinned. “I’m actually moving in upstairs, too, with our best friend Danny. Not sure where he ran off to.”

“So four new faces to see around.” You nodded along to your own words. “I suppose it won’t be that bad. You guys seem alright.”

“As long as noise doesn’t bother you to much.” Sam chuckled. You cocked your head to the side, as if to ask him why. “We’re in a band.”

“Oh, cool! Noise doesn’t bother me, especially if it’s good noise.” You assured them. “The apartment isn’t really quiet in general. Lots of musicians and aspiring artists in here. The hallways usually pretty silent, but not the rooms. That’s kind of why I came out to investigate.”

“What about you, duckie?” Josh asked, eyeing your pyjama pants. You looked down, feeling redness rush to your cheeks at the childish pattern of rubber ducks plastered on the fabric. You were suddenly aware of how attractive all of the boys were, and how hungover you looked. “You an aspiring artist?”

“Writer.” You smiled, trying to brush off the embarrassment.

“I’d love to read something, someday.” His words were honest, warming your heart.

“Who knows, maybe you guys can be my new muse.” You joked.

“Oh! Can I be a superhero?” Sam exclaimed.

“Pirates,” Jake interjected, dismissing Sam’s idea. You giggled.

“I’ll make you guys sound super cool, don’t worry.” You assured them. “I’d love to hear some of your music, too.”

“You play any instruments?” Jake asked, trying to engage more in the conversation.

“I tried a bit of everything, I guess. Never stuck with much, but I could pick a tune on guitar and I could play a melody on the piano. I tried drums a couple times, but my family got fed up pretty fast.” You chuckled at the memory. “I like to sing, most of all, but I tend to stick to my writing.”

“You hear that, guys?” Sam looked between his brothers. “She’s coming for our jobs.” They all laughed at the statement.

“I think you’re all safe, don’t worry. Especially your drummer.” Your eyes looked between all of them, trying to figure out who that might be.

“Speaking of drummers,” Sam cleared his throat, eyes looking down the hall to another body moving towards the group. “Maybe this guy could teach you a thing or two, if you ever wanted to learn.” You couldn’t hide your staring when the fourth boy came into view. He was tall, wearing jeans and a muscle shirt, his biceps catching you off guard. His long curly hair framed his face, his nose a little on the larger side and his eyes glistening with a type of kindness you couldn’t fake.

“Who am I teaching?” He asked, smile wide and tone welcoming. He was breathtaking.

“Duckie.” Sam motioned to you, breaking you from your trance. “She said she’s not very good at the drums. Well, her parents didn’t think so, anyway. She may be alright.”

“Hi,” you breathed, clearing your throat “I’m y/n.” You tried your best to give a good first impression, but your crimson cheeks and racing heart were not helping your case.

“Danny.” He beamed. You started to hold your hand out to him to shake, but he dismissed it. “I’m a hugger, if you’re cool with that.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s cool too.” You managed to squeak out. He took a step towards you, wrapping his arms around you. “Nice to meet you.” You told him, and you meant it. It was very nice to meet him. His cologne lingered in your nose after he pulled away. You tried not to let it affect you, but you were swooning just at the thought of his arms around you. “Sorry I didn’t wear my Sunday best, I didn’t expect to meet anyone new. I was honestly gonna come out here and tell you guys to be quiet. The bar got the best of me last night.” You laughed. “But, since you guys are cool, I’ll let it slide.”

“‘Preciate it, duck.” Sam smirked. “You’re alright, too.”

“Aw, thanks.” The sarcasm was dripping from your words. “You guys need any help?”

“Maybe an interior decorator!” Danny offered. “All our stuff is in our apartment, but we aren’t exactly experts on the decoration part.” He admitted. “I’ll treat you to lunch if you could offer some insight.” You swore you saw his cheeks turn rosy, but you ignored it, believing you must have made it up. “Well, I’ll treat you to lunch, anyway, but I could really use a second opinion up there.”

“Y-yeah!” You stuttered. “Let me go and take a quick shower. I’ll meet you up there?”

“Sure, 208.” He replied.

“Guess we’re still stuck moving everything in down here?” Sam eyed his roommate. Danny gave a shrug.

“I wasn’t gonna let the pretty lady do the dirty work. Besides, you’re doing such a great job already.”

You didn’t believe in love at first sight, but whatever you’d felt for Danny that day was the closest thing to it. At first, you thought he may have felt the same way. He always wanted to hang out, made excuses to come to your apartment to visit, and always made sure you were invited to any of the group events. He never technically stopped doing that stuff, but it had never advanced. You guys had fallen into the friendship routine, never toeing any boundaries or crossing any lines. You wished he would, though. You bent down and picked your journal up off the grass, swiping away any dirt that had accumulated on it.

“So, are we going for a swim?” Danny asked, gazing in your direction for a second too long. You felt the nervousness creep back in.

“Yeah, of course. I gotta get changed.” You turned to the cabin, Danny following closely behind. Just as you reached the door, the others tumbled outside, almost knocking you over. You stumbled backwards into Danny, but he caught you and steadied you. His large hands holding your arms made your head spin.

“Sorry!” Sam exclaimed, inspecting you to make sure you were okay. You waved him off.

“S’okay, Sammy.” You assured him, regaining your footing. He was still watching you carefully, making sure you were being honest. “It’s okay.” You repeated, reaching out and giving him a pat on the arm. “Less scary than a bear.” You two shared a chuckle before the three brothers bid a goodbye, promising they’d be back soon. The two of you continued on your way, running up the stairs and into your own rooms. You pulled out the bikini you’d packed, quickly changing out of your shorts and tank top. You’d managed to tie the strings around your neck with no issues, but were struggling with the ones around your back.

A knock sounded on the door, startling you. “You okay in there?” Danny asked through the door. You sighed, holding the cups of the top tightly to your chest.

“No, can you help?” You called him in. “I need you to tie the strings for me.” The door creaked open, slowly revealing the boy you’d been talking to. He let out a small chuckle at the sight, making his way over to you. “Just as tight as you can, please.”

“Will do,” his fingers grazed the skin on your back, causing goosebumps to raise on your arms. He took the strings and tied them together, making sure it was on securely. His palm landed on your lower back as you turned around, causing your stomach to flutter with butterflies. You turned to face him, taking in the sight before you. He was just in swim trunks, standing closer than you thought he was, with a grin plastered on his lips. Your breath caught in your throat at his exposed upper half; it was a sight you would never get used to, no matter how many times you saw him shirtless. “Ready?” He asked, fingers still lingering on you. You managed a nod.

The two of you clambered back down the stairs. He held the door open for you as you slipped on your flip-flops. “Wait!” You stopped, turning back towards him. He raised an eyebrow. “Sunscreen!” You ran back inside, grabbing the bottle from your bag and bringing it back to him. He watched you, unsure of what to do. “Put it on, silly.” You laughed. “No sunburns on my watch.” He playfully rolled his eyes, grabbing it from you and obeying. You took turns with the bottle, coating yourselves in the lotion. “Turn around.” You ordered. He did as he was told and you put some on his back, rubbing it in gently.

“You’re such a mom.” Danny poked fun at you.

“I’m not listening to everyone complain when they’re burnt and sore, later.”

“Fair enough,” He backed down “your turn.” He said once you finished, turning around and grabbing it from you. You allowed him to do the same, holding your hair out of his way. “Should be good enough.” He said, gently pulling you back around to face him. “Oh, hold on.” He squeezed a bit more on his finger. You watched with curiosity as he closed the bottle.

“I don’t think we missed-“ he raised his hand and swiped the dollop of lotion on your nose. You both broke out into a fit of giggles as you processed what he’d done. You massaged it into the bridge of your nose and over your cheeks, not finding it in you to be annoyed with him. He had a child-like humour by times that was heartwarming.

“Now we’re okay. Come on.” He grabbed your hand, leading you back outside. You shut the door behind you, letting him guide you to the water. You broke through the tree line, following the short trail to the clearing. The grass slowly transitioned into sand, which was surrounding a gorgeous body of water. The sun rays made the surface sparkle, illuminating the blue hue that looked so inviting. There was a dock with a small ‘no diving’ sign attached to it. You couldn’t see the other side of the lake, but you were assuming it wasn’t as large as it seemed upfront. There were a few other trails through the line of woods, presumably leading to other cabins in the campground. Each building was quite secluded, giving lots of privacy to the visitors. It was nice.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Danny asked from beside you, hand still in yours. You gave his a small squeeze, nodding your head.

“It’s like a whole different world compared to the city.” You sighed, kicking your shoes off. “I should come out here and write sometime.” You thought aloud, not really intending for a conversation.

“If you ever want company, you know where to find me.” He said, thumb running over the soft skin on your hand.

“As long as it’s just you,” you mumbled “the other ones are too distracting.” He laughed, letting go of you to step forward onto the beach. You followed behind him, immediately walking over to the dock. You were careful stepping on the old wood, not wanting to get a splinter. Once you made it to the end, you bargained with the thought of splinters, willing to risk one or two for the experience. You sat down, feet dangling over the edge, just barely reaching the water. You moved your legs back and fourth, getting a feel for the temperature. You looked back over your shoulder, watching Danny scale the shore, just a few feet in from the sand.

He caught your eye and you looked away quickly, your heart racing. You had a hard time not staring at him, but you didn’t want him to think you were weird. He walked over to where you were sitting, barely making a noise aside from the small splashes of water with his steps. “I thought you wanted to swim, duck?” He asked as he approached the dock. He waded into the water, coming to stand beside you. The water was shallow enough that he was only up to his navel in depth. He moved in front of you, hands reaching out and finding a home on the wood beside each of your legs.

“I’m in the water.” You reminded, pointing at your feet. He scoffed, holding back a laugh.

“I don’t think that counts.”

“Does so!” You argued.

“Come in with me.” He pleaded. You reasoned with yourself before answering.

“Is it cold?” You questioned. The water that was up to your ankles told you it wasn’t, but you were sceptical.

“No, it’s really nice. I promise.”

“Okay, but you have to stay with me, just in case.” You bargained.

“Don’t know how to swim?” He quipped, a smirk growing on his lips.

“I do! I’m just nervous. Usually I only swim in pools.” You admitted.

“Ah, whatever you say, city girl.” You responded by flipping him the middle finger. “Maybe Jake was right, we should’ve brought your life jacket.” You rolled your eyes.

“You know, maybe you should’ve went with them. I’d rather fight the bear than get bullied all day!” You both erupted into a fit of laughter again.

“Fine, I promise I won’t go too far away. I wouldn’t want a fish to get you.” He said through a giggle.

“You’re on thin ice, Wagner.” You warned. He took another step closer to you, his chest practically touching your knees. He held his arms out for you. You hesitantly scooted forward, letting him grab onto your hips. He lifted you carefully, slowly bringing you down into the water with him. You let out a sigh of relief when your feet hit the bottom. You were significantly further in than Danny, though. The bottom of your bikini top was hitting the surface of the lake.

“See, it’s not so bad.” He whispered, pulling you into him. His hands still rested on your waist, sending your stomach into knots. You were sure he could feel your pulse just from the proximity of your chests. “Right?” He mumbled, looking down at you.

“It’s not that bad,” you sighed an agreement, relaxing a bit. He smiled, leading you out further into the water.

“Float on your back.” He said, simply.

“I don’t know how to.” You admitted.

“I’ll show you.” He let go of you, taking a step away from you. His arm landed on your upper back. “Lean back, keep your legs straight.” He explained. You did as he said, easing into the water. Eventually, your legs rose a bit higher and he snaked his other arm under you, supporting your bum. You tried not to notice where his hand was, but it proved difficult. “Now keep your hips up and your legs straight. Don’t lose your posture, okay?”

“Okay.” You whispered. He held you for a moment, but slowly lowered his touch so you were floating on your own. He continued to stand next to you, making sure you knew he didn’t leave you stranded. “I’m doing it!” You exclaimed, looking at him through the corner of your eye.

“You are, duck.” He beamed down at you. “Good job.”

The afternoon was filled with aquatic adventure, but eventually dwindled into the early hours of the evening. The sun sinking slowly below the trees, but still bright enough to cast a golden glow over the earth. When the temperature started to drop, too, you and Danny made your way out of the lake, planning to retire back to the cabin. When you got out of the water, a shiver ran through you. Danny wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to him, trying to warm you up. When you got back through the trees, a billow of smoke through the air caught your attention. You continued walking to find the three other boys had returned from their hike and had lit a campfire. Jake was sitting in a chair with his acoustic guitar in his lap. Josh had a drink in his hand, face looking a bit red. You couldn’t tell if he was sunburnt or just drunk.

“Hello, lovebirds!” Sammy announced, causing you and Danny to look between each other, unsure how to respond. “Have a good swim?” He grinned.

“Shut up, Sam.” You rolled your eyes, throwing your towel on the ground to sit on it. Danny did the same, taking post next to you. The orange flames warmed you, drying any missed water droplets from your skin. “How was your hike?” You pointed the question to the twins.

“It was an extravagant exploration of the wilderness,” Josh giggled at himself. You could tell he’d been drinking for a while. You smiled at him, looking over to his brother who was picking a tune on the guitar. You hummed along with him, appreciating the sound of the song.

“Did you guys get anything to eat?” You asked. They all shook their heads. You had to hold back an eye roll, making a move to stand. “Okay. I’ll make something, then, before you all perish.” Danny looked up at you from his seat on the ground.

“Need any help?” You gave a nod, holding your hand out to help him up. The two of you disappeared back into the cabin. You raced up the stairs to grab a quick shower and get changed. You pulled on some sweatpants and a tank top, quickly brushing through your hair and meeting Danny back in the kitchen. “What are we making, duck?” He asked, standing up from the chair he’d been sitting at.

“I have no idea what they brought for food,” you laughed, walking to check the fridge. You searched, trying to find something to throw together. “Nachos, I guess?”

“Sounds good to me.” He smiled. You took out the ingredients the boys had thrown haphazardly into the fridge. The two of you cooked silently, both starving and ready to eat.

When the food was ready, you put out paper plates on the table and called everyone back inside. The meal went quickly, barely any words spoken. You were all hungry after a long day of activities. When the food was gone, you all joined forces to tidy up before going back outside. The boys all took their turns thanking you before returning back to the fireside. You grabbed a cooler from the fridge, cracking the can and taking a sip. You watched out the window for a moment, admiring the view.

Danny had started the shower upstairs, presumably wanting to wash the lake water off as badly as you’d wanted to, earlier. You went up to your room, sitting on the bed and pulling your journal out. You put your pen to the paper, wanting to write about the beautiful things you’d seen all day, the serenity of nature and the experience of being with your friends, but every word that came from you was all about the same thing; the boy who had taught you how to float today. You laughed at the memory, feeling a bit ridiculous that you were an adult and had no idea how to float on your back in the water. In a way, you were glad you didn’t, because it gave you an excuse to be close with Danny. You thought about the scene, the metaphor pouring out on paper effortlessly. He was so easy to write about, so easy to think about. He occupied your mind even when you were busy with a million other things. It was so easy being in love with Danny; it wasn’t easy, however, not knowing if he felt the same way about you. His lingering touches and affinity to be near to led you to believe he did, but he never gave any other idea that he felt that way.

If you’d known that day, when you joked about them being your new muse, that it would be so true, you never would have said it. Writers block was a distant memory now, your mind constantly begging you to write about the beautiful boy who lived just a floor above you. You’d heard about his dates, potential flings and pursuers, just the same as he’d heard about yours. You even met some of them. But, in the years that had passed since you met him, nobody you’d been with ever compared to him. You barely knew what it was like to touch him, or have him hold you. He’d never kissed you, or given you anything other than platonic love, but you knew that nobody could be better than Danny. He was a ray of sunshine, he made your day better just by knowing he existed. You were hopelessly pining after him, wishing he’d notice, but too scared to say anything to anyone.

You were broken from your thoughts when someone stepped in your room. You looked up to see the boy you’d been lost in thought about. “Hey, duckie.” He greeted, giving you a smile. The other boys never really consistently continued on with the silly nickname they’d given you all those years ago, but he did. The rest of the boys usually only called you it when they wanted to get on your nerves, or tease you, but was rare for Danny to call you by your name. You didn’t mind it, especially coming from him. “What are you writing about?”

“Just about the lake, earlier.” You replied, closing the journal and putting it beside you on the bed. He took a seat beside you.

“Care to share?” He asked. You convinced yourself he was only doing so as a formality.

“Nothing worth sharing.” You lied, looking over to meet his eyes.

“I think everything you write is worth sharing.” You felt your cheeks heat up, distracting yourself from the compliment by reaching over and taking a sip of your drink.

“Thanks, Danny.” You whispered. “Wanna head out to the fire?”

“Sure,” he said, looking a little dejected. You thought maybe he really did want to read what you had written. You promised yourself you’d show him eventually, when you worked up enough courage.

The boys were positively drunk by the time you rejoined them, laughing and signing along with Jake’s playing. You returned to your unspoken claimed spot on the ground. On the way out, Danny had grabbed his own guitar and started tuning it when he took his own seat. It didn’t take long for you to find yourself tipsy, too. You were tired, making the effects of the alcohol even stronger. You found yourself swaying to the music the boys were playing, entranced in Josh’s singing. Your eyes drifted towards Danny, watching him smile as he played, fingers dancing over the fretboard. He was beautiful, everything he did was captivating. You’d only noticed you were staring when he caught your eye, giving you a grin.

“You gonna sing us a song, y/n?” He asked. You heart sped as your name fell from his lips. It sounded so perfect coming from him.

“I mean, I can’t really compete with Josh, but I suppose I could give it a go.” You smiled. You could see the excitement dance across his face. He didn’t say anything else before he started playing again. When Jake picked up on what song he was picking, he joined in. Rhiannon. Fleetwood Mac. He remembered your favourite band. You sung along, carefree and open, not worried about how you sounded. All of the boys joined in on the chorus, laughing and belting it with you.

When the last note of the song rang out, Sam and Josh gave a round of applause, muffled by Jake and Danny’s cheers. “If you ever give up writing, we’d give you a spot in the band.” Sam laughed. You shook your head, dismissing his statement.

“No chance, Sammy. I’m just going to keep writing my silly little book and hopefully make it big, someday.”

“You’ve got four of your biggest fans right here once you do. Remember us when you’re famous.” Danny spoke now, immediately catching your attention.

“As if I could ever forget about you guys.” You said, but you directed it to him. You would never be able to leave any of them behind, but he’d always have a place in your heart, especially.

“Awww, you’re so sweet, Duck! I know you couldn’t forget about me, I’m your favourite!” Josh’s smile blinded you from across the fire.

“Of course, Josh.” You laughed.

The drinks slowly came to an end as the flames fizzled into embers. The music died off, too, all of you completely exhausted. Danny had thrown his guitar back in the case and you’d laid back, head in his lap while his fingers danced through your hair. You wished you could lay with him like this forever. Jake was picking at the strings, not with much intent. Josh was a second away from slumber, barely holding his eyes open. Sam had dozed off a few times in his chair, quite like a middle-aged dad. You were certain it was nearing midnight by now, but truly didn’t care enough to check. You closed your own eyes, just to satiate the need for sleep for a little while, not wanting the night to end.

Just as you did so, a raindrop landed on the coals of the fire, omitting a sizzle that brought you back to reality. You only had a second to realize what was happening before more were falling. Everyone sprung to action, the boys grabbing their instruments to get them inside. You gathered all of the damageable items, stuffing them into the pockets of your pants and the rest in your hands. The boys were inside by the time you collected the last of the things. The rain had picked up, now drenching your tank top. You swore under your breath as you made your way into the house, shivering and cold.

Danny was waiting for you by the door, immediately taking the stuff from your hands. “I’m sorry, duck! I wasn’t even thinking about the rest of the stuff, I just didn’t want to get the guitar wet-“

“It’s okay,” you promised, teeth still chattering.

“Here,” he placed all of the things on the ground and pulled his sweatshirt over his head, handing it to you. You took it, turning away to face the wall for a moment, slipping the wet shirt off. You pulled his sweater on, immediately feeling better. It was still warm from his body heat and it smelled like him.

“Thank you.” You sighed. The two of you joined the others in the kitchen, returning phones and wallets to the right owners. You all stood together, sharing mindless chatter and forgetting about the rainstorm for a moment. “You see, Sammy. Aren’t you so grateful for a roof, tonight?” You smirked.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Be careful, I might let one of the bears know which room is yours.” You both giggled, knowing he’d never let the joke die. “Well, I think it’s bedtime.” Sam sighed. Josh and Jake nodded, both feeling the same way. “Have a good night, everyone. I’ll make sure to wake you all at six sharp, so we don’t miss out on any festivities.” Sam announced. You rolled your eyes.

“If you show up at my door at six in the morning, you won’t be alive for any more festivities.” You warned.

“Understood.” Sam gave a salute before breaking away, heading upstairs. The twins also bid a goodnight and found their way to their own beds. You turned to look at the only other body left in the room.

“You going to bed, too?” You asked. He gave a shrug.

“Are you?”

“I’m not sure.” You said, looking around the empty kitchen. “I’m tired, but I don’t know if I’m ready to sleep yet. You don’t have to stay up with me, though.”

“I know I don’t have to.” He chuckled. “If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t.” You gave a small smile.

“Go to bed, Danny.” You gave him a gentle pat on the arm. “I’ve got a date with my journal. And by date I mean staring blankly at it until something good comes out of it.” He laughed at your words.

“You know where to find me if you need anything, then.” He replied, hand reaching out and landing on your lower back. He pulled you in for a hug, chin resting on top of your head. You held on to him, not wanting to let him go. Eventually, he broke away, leaving you wishing he’d stay. “Goodnight, duckie.” He whispered, walking out of eyesight before you could formulate a response. You sat in the kitchen, waiting until you heard his bedroom door shut, thinking about the days events. Eventually, you found yourself retiring back to your room.

You clicked on a lamp that was on the table beside the bed. It was soft, enough so you could see what you were doing, but not enough to become annoying. The rain softly puttered against the windows, inviting you in. You loved rain, the sound was so soothing and it was the perfect ambience. Your journal still rested on the bed, saving a spot for you. You slid under the covers and opened it back up. The words poured out effortlessly, continuing on with your story as if you’d never stopped in the first place. You filled the page, not taking a break until you were jolted to reality from a thunder crack outside. Your stomach churned at the sound. You tried to ignore it, but another boom and flash of light startled you again. You loved the rain, but you hated thunder, and despised lightning.

You swallowed hard, feeling a nervous tremble in your hand as you tried to keep writing. By the fifth snap of thunder, you were no longer able to focus on anything you were doing. It was a childish fear, but the loud noises were always unsettling to you, mostly because you never knew when it would happen. Counting the distance between bangs only kept you more on edge, and then the spark of light lost your focus. You climbed back out of bed, finding a bit of solace in Danny’s sweatshirt that you were wearing. You pushed the door open, creeping down the stairs, hoping you wouldn’t wake anyone. When you made it to the kitchen, you searched for a kettle, hoping that there was one in the cabin somewhere.

You stumbled across a tattered electric one, smiling in triumph. You pulled a teabag from the small sandwich bag you’d filled while packing. That was one thing you knew you couldn’t go the weekend without. The water ran quietly from the tap, filling the kettle within a few seconds. You flipped it off, searching in the dark for an outlet.

Once you plugged it in and flipped it on, you sat at the table to wait for it, focusing on the noise of the boiling water rather than the commotion outside. Your fingers drummed against the wooden table, filled with anxiety. You were calming down slightly, thinking the storm may have been dwindling to an end, but the rain started coming down harder and another sound of thunder filled the home, much stronger than the rest. A bright flash filled the windows, and the sound of the boiling water slowed to a stop. The power had gone out. Your heart was racing now, palms breaking out into a sweat. You decided the best course of action was to go back to your room and hope to fall asleep.

“Y/n?” A low voice said from the bottom of the stairwell. You jumped, whipping your head to see who it had come from.

“Oh, Danny,” you sighed, laughing gently. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he said, sheepishly, making his way towards you. His hair was pulled back and his shirt was off, leaving him just in a pair of sweatpants. “What are you still doing up?” He asked, but he already knew the answer. He’d never forget how much thunder bothered you.

“Ah, just couldn’t sleep.” You brushed it off.

“Thunder?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Powers out, too.” He was in front of you now, kneeling down so he could see your face. His hand reached out, finding your cheek. His thumb brushed over the skin, causing you to melt into the touch. The anxiety bubbled away just from him being there.

“You can come to bed with me, if you want.” He offered. You looked up at him through your lashes, unsure if he really said what you thought he did. “O-or Sam, or anyone, really.” He covered it up, quickly. “Nobody would mind.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.” You brushed it off.

“You’d never be intruding. I can go wake up whoever you want to stay with-“

“You, Danny.” You assured him. “I’d like to stay with you, if it’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course it is. Come on.” He stood, holding his hand out for you. You took it and he carefully guided you to his room. He let you go in first, opening the door for you. You slowly shuffled inside, turning to look at him. He chuckled at your nervousness, closing the door behind him. “I can sleep on the floor, you can take the bed.” He said pulling a pillow from the mattress. You held your hand out to stop him.

“We can both…” you trailed off, suddenly embarrassed at your words. “We can, uh, both sleep in the bed. I mean, if you’re okay with it. It’s just… it’s a big bed, there’s no need for you to sleep on the floor. If anything, I can sleep on the floor-“

“Hey,” he laughed, throwing the pillow back in its place “it’s okay, if you’re cool with it, I am too.”

“Okay, great.” You internally cringed at yourself, realizing how stupid you sounded. You watched as he climbed under the covers, not sure what to do.

“Oh, did you want me to put my shirt on?” He asked, quickly making a move to stand again.

“No, it’s okay.” You said, making a move to get in beside him. He scooted over, giving you as much room as possible. “We can put a pillow between us if it makes you more comfortable.” He laughed at your words as you both settled in.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t think you have cooties.” You let out a small giggle.

“Maybe you do, though.”

“Too late for you, then. You’ve been wearing my sweater all night.” He argued. You relaxed a bit, the anxiety seeping away. You’d almost forgotten why you were in bed with him in the first place. He rolled onto his side, facing you.

“I guess so,” you sighed “I’ll never recover.”

“You poor baby,” Just as he said it, another roaring wave of thunder shook the house. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound. Without wasting any time, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into him. You accepted the hold, shifting on your side and burying your head in his chest. He held you tightly, not even so much as considering letting you go. “It’s okay.” He whispered, rubbing your back gently. You relaxed into his touch, wrapping your arm around him and allowing him to comfort you.

“Thanks for letting me stay with you.” You mumbled. He moved the hair from your face, running his fingers through it and gently brushing out any knots.

“My pleasure, duck.” He hummed, still holding you close to him. “Who doesn’t love a good sleepover?” You gave a small laugh, mumbling an agreement. Any sleepover would be fantastic as long as it was with him. You guys fell into routine of listening to each others breathing, eventually drifting off into a slumber that was more peaceful than any you’d had before.

When the sun peaked through the curtains the next morning, it was almost like the storm had never happened. Golden rays casting over both of the bodies in the bed, showcasing that neither of you moved the whole night. You were still wrapped up in Danny’s arms, holding him closely to you. His hands had drifted downwards, hand decorating your thigh and fingers dangerously close to your ass. You were awake, the sunlight ensured that, but you wished so badly that you weren’t. You wanted to stay like this all day, sleeping next to Danny and soaking up every bit of affection you could get from him. You felt grateful for the thunderstorm last night, realizing that it was the sole reason you had the opportunity to wake up to the beautiful sight of him sleeping next to you.

You wiggled impossibly closer, gentle enough to avoid waking him. You just wanted to be surrounded by him and to never have to let go. He stirred but didn’t wake. Instead, the hand that was holding your hip tightened and pulled you closer to him. Your heart fluttered but you tried to stay calm, shoving the interaction to the back of your mind. Though, it was really hard to forget the feeling of his hand on you, burning into your skin and lighting you on fire. You tried not to think about your own fingers dancing on the bare skin of his back, how warm he was and how you wanted to lay there and trace patterns into it all day. You closed your eyes, trying to let sleep take over once more, but his heartbeat was fuelling you rather than serving as a lullaby.

Your feelings for Danny were always prominent, standing out above anything else, but in that moment they were driving you insane. You wanted nothing more than to lean up and kiss him, just to know what it felt like. You wanted him to wake up, to see you as more than the downstairs neighbour or his friend. You wanted to start your day wrapped around him like this every morning. As if the universe heard your silent plea, Danny shifted, hand never leaving you, and took a sharp inhale. You pulled your head back, looking up at his face. His eyes fluttered open, immediately looking down at you. His lips upturned into a smile which you returned without a thought.

“Good morning, duck.” He whispered, hands unmoving as if he was enjoying touching you, too.

“Morning,” you managed to muster out, eyes taking in every aspect of his features. He was doing the same, wanting to remember exactly what you looked like first thing in the morning. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, really good.” He sighed. “You?”

“Me, too.” You said, making a move to turn on your back. He kept his hand on you as you moved, not letting you get too far away.

“Storm didn’t bother you too much?”

“No,” you tried to ignore the nervousness brewing in the pit of your stomach. “Felt pretty safe in here with you.”

“I was hoping you would.” You both fell back into silence, his thumb teetering just underneath the hem of your shirt, scared to push his luck. You laid still, hoping maybe he would understand that you were far from complaining about the contact. You were too scared to give any encouragement, afraid that you may have been getting the wrong idea from the encounter.

“Probably should get up, see what everybody else is doing.” You breathed, looking towards him but making no effort to leave.

“I really don’t care what they’re doing.” He admitted.

“Me, either.” You laughed. “I could stay here all day.”

“What’s stopping you?” He asked, suddenly finding enough courage to slip his hand just under your sweater, now letting it dance over the soft skin that lie beneath. Your breath caught in your throat, eyes looking for some sign of joking in his expression.

“Nothing,” You said. “We are on vacation, aren’t we?” He gave a nod, a smile creeping onto his face. “Staying in bed all day is more than acceptable.” He wasted no time pulling you back towards him, rolling on his back as he did so. You let out a giggle at his suddenness, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you on top of him.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He sighed, his grip now falling to your lower back. Your head found its place in the crook of his neck, hand resting on his chest. “I didn’t want to say it last night, but I was really hoping you wanted to stay with me, and not one of the other guys.”

“Why is that, Daniel?” Your anxiety was melting away, knowing he wanted you there just as much as you wanted to be there.

“I think you know why, y/n.” His tone was completely serious, no hidden implications behind his words.

“I don’t think I do.” You whispered. You pulled back from him to look at his face. His eyes were watching you carefully, looking to see if you were being honest.

“Come on, duck, you really have no idea?” You shook your head, waiting for him to continue. “I love you.” He almost laughed at his own words.

“I love you too, Danny.” You told him, your heart racing.

“No, like I really love you. I’m in love with you.” He said, clarifying even further.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I am, too.” He didn’t move, still continuing to watch you to ensure you weren’t joking. “Last night when you asked what I was writing about, I was writing about you.” You laughed. “That’s why I didn’t want to show you. I didn’t want to make it weird.”

“So you’re telling me I’m your muse?” He smirked, cockiness radiating from him. “Sam’s going to be pissed. He was really hoping you’d make him a superhero.”

“He’s not cool enough to be a superhero, I just don’t have the heart to tell him yet.” You both laughed, feeling the weight of the world being lifted off your shoulders. “How long have you felt like this?” You asked, curiosity getting the best of you.

“I mean, I’ve always thought you were pretty. When we were moving in and I asked you to come upstairs and help me, I just wanted an excuse to get to know you, and take you out to eat.” He explained. “I guess I never realized I was really in love with you until we started touring. I couldn’t stop thinking about you and I was always a little bit jealous if I heard you on the phone with the other guys. Then I knew I was really in pretty deep.”

“You never said anything.”

“I was scared,” he finally broke the eye contact. “I mean, we all practically live together, we’re all friends, I was scared of risking it all.” You felt like screaming. Years of repressed feelings and emotions were flooding you all at once, angry with yourself that you never got the nerve to be honest with him. “I think that this morning I realized I had to tell you, because I want to wake up next to you every day.” He chuckled.

“Me too, Danny.” You rushed out. “I think I fell in love with you the first time I saw you.” You felt your cheeks turn red.

“So love at first sight, then.” He teased. “I guess we were both pretty stupid.”

“Yeah,” you practically scoffed. He didn’t let you say another word, because he was pulling you forward into a kiss. You thought maybe you should pinch yourself, just to make sure it wasn’t some grandly fabricated dream you’d wake up disappointed to. You didn’t care, though, because even if it was a dream, it was the best one you’d ever had. He gently pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, causing a small moan from you. You shifted your position without breaking from his lips, moving your legs on either side of him. Both of his hands immediately shot to your hips, wanting to make sure you knew that your new position was very welcomed.

One of your palms fell flat on his chest, holding you up. The other cupped his cheek, holding his face to yours. Eventually, you pulled away to catch your breath, head spinning and chest burning with desire. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He smiled at your words, pushing you down a little towards his legs so he could sit up. His back rested against the headboard of the bed. He reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, wanting to see your face.

“We’ve got all the time in the world, now.” He gently brought your lips back to his. The kiss was sweet, filled with love and even better than you had ever imagined it. You were desperate for more, no patience left from waiting so long. He deepened the kiss, more than likely feeling the exact same way. It didn’t take long for it to become messy, both of you grasping at each other, frantic to know everything about the undiscovered parts of each others bodies. You could feel his erection pressing into your heat, causing your arousal to grow even more. “Can I take this off?” He asked, pulling at the bottom of your sweater. His face was barely parted from yours, just enough so he could get the words out. You gave a small nod, lifting your arms so he could pull it off for you. He threw it to the floor, eyes raking over your naked upper half. His mouth moved down to your neck, nipping and biting at the soft skin. When he found a particularly sensitive spot, his attention rested there, sucking gently. You rocked your hips forward into him without intent, begging for some friction. “Needy,” he smiled against your neck.

“Been waiting for this for a long time,” you sighed, a hint of a whine in your tone.

“It’s okay, baby, you can have me. Just have to be patient.” He assured you, his hand reaching to cup one of your breasts. “Have to appreciate you first.” The pad of his thumb brushed over your hardened nipple, sending a rush of pleasure straight to your core. He pinched it gently, rolling it between his fingers and watching your reaction. Your eyes settled on his face, a pleading look instilled in them. You saw his jaw clench. He wanted the foreplay to continue but he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

He flipped you over, settling you on your back without a word. He tapped your thigh, silently letting you know he wanted you to lift your hips. You did as he wanted and he pulled off your pants, throwing them in the steadily growing pile of clothes on the floor. You watched him as you laid back on the bed, still forcing yourself to believe it was real life. His hair was still pulled back into a bun, some pieces falling out here and there. His eyes still looked tired, but his expression showed that he was wide awake and fully invested in the moment. “Seeing you like this is way better than anything I’ve imagined before.” He whispered, lips trailing over your bare stomach, sucking marks into the skin just above your panty line.

“So you’ve imagined me like this before?” You tried to sound confident, but your voice was shaky and gave you away immediately. His mouth moved to your hip, gently sinking his teeth into you. You let out a noise of surprise at the feeling.

“You haven’t?” You could hear the smirk in his voice; you didn’t even have to look at him to know.

“Maybe once or twice,” you admitted. He was right, this was much better than any of the dreams or fantasies you’d had about it. The feeling of his mouth on you was intoxicating. He pulled back from you, moving to rest on his knees. He made a move to take off your underwear, which you happily helped him with. You could see how hard he was through his sweatpants; the sight alone was driving you crazy. Once he had you fully naked, he slipped an arm underneath your hips, then roughly flipped you over onto your belly.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, more than okay.” You assured him.

“Let me know if you want me to stop, or if I do anything you don’t like, okay?” You nodded. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I will, baby.” You promised. He started back at the top of your body, lips brushing over your shoulders, making their way down to the dip in your back. His large hand became quite familiar with your ass, fingers squeezing it ever so slightly. He pulled back again, just long enough to deliver a sharp slap to the same spot his hand had been just a moment before. You gasped, not expecting the sudden change in his demeanour. He leaned down and placed a small kiss where he’d left the stinging red mark.

He moved his hand between your legs, fingers slowly running through your wetness.

“All this for me, sweet girl?” Hearing such a pet name coming from his mouth was enough on its own to warrant an orgasm. His fingers explored further, almost immediately landing on your clit. He knew he’d hit the right spot when a moan fell from your lips. His index finger circled there a few times, allowing some relief for you. “You want it so bad, don’t you?” You hummed a response, but he pulled his hand away from you completely. “Use your words.” He ordered.

“Y-yeah, I do, Danny. So bad.” You stuttered, taken aback. You definitely didn’t expect him to be as dominant as he was being. His usual sweet personality has seemed to vanish completely.

“That’s what I thought.” He resumed his slow pace at your clit, enough to give you some pleasure but not enough to get you off. He was driving you crazy. He continued on at that speed for only a short while before he removed his hand again, grabbing your hips and pulling them up off the bed. “M’sorry baby, I can’t wait any longer.” He shuffled back to his knees, pulling his pants down just enough to free his cock. He spit on his hand, stroking himself for a second before pushing into you, letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

He used his hands on your hips to pull you back on him as he thrusted into you, hitting your cervix hard on every re-entry. Each time you let a moan out, letting him know he was doing a good job. His fingers were digging into you more with every movement, and your were certain there would be perfect, fingers shaped bruises to remind you of him. One of his hand slipped up to your hair, balling it in his fist and pulling your head back. He leaned down, moving your head to the side so he could kiss you while he fucked you. You whimpered into his mouth, which in turn caused him to grip your hair even tighter. “Being such a good girl for me.” He muttered as he pulled away. The praise began to form a knot in your belly, desperate for a release.

He removed his hand from your hair, slipping it under you, reaching down to your bundle of nerves again. The combined feeling of him inside you and the stimulation on your clit was making your head spin. The burning in the pit of your stomach was growing by the second. It didn’t take him long to catch on, your ragged breathing and string of moans served as a strong indication of your impending orgasm. “Danny, I’m gonna-“

“No, you’re not.” He cut you off.

“I-I can’t-“

“Don’t,” he warned. “Not yet.” He didn’t slow his pace, making it even harder for you to control yourself. Your noises of pleasure became more erratic, informing him that you couldn’t stop it. He pulled out immediately, moving his fingers, too. You let out a whine, almost in pain at the loss of contact. You were panting, legs shaking underneath you. Without really thinking, you reached your hand down to your cunt, trying to find some relief. He noticed, grabbing your hand before you could get anywhere. “I told you no, baby.” He was taunting you, hoping you’d beg for him. Little did he know he didn’t have to ask for that. You’d been desperate for him for years, all of it finally coming out now.

“Please, Danny. I need it so bad.” Your head was still down on the bed, not willing to move and look him in the eyes. A gentle hand ran down your ass, fingertips trailing down the back of your thigh. The light tickle was enough to sent a jolt of electricity through your body.

“How bad, baby?” He breathed. His voice was low, dripping with emotion. You had to commend him for his self control. He stood now, fully taking off his pants. He walked to the side of the bed, looking down at you.

“So bad,” you whined. “Can’t wait any longer. Please, please fuck me.” He grabbed your hair again, pulling your head up gently to look at him. He gave you a small, reassuring smile, just so you knew he wasn’t going to push you too far. As soon as he was certain you’d seen it, it disappeared.

“You sound so pretty when you beg for me.” He took your face in his hand, making you keep the eye contact with him. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips. You made a move to sit up, sitting on the edge of the mattress to face him. You took the time to admire him, now, finally getting the full view of him. The usual sweetness in his eyes were replaced with a dark look, one that sent a shiver down your spine. A good one, but still a feeling you’d never had from him before. He almost held a scowl on his features, for lack of better description. But it wasn’t hateful; it was authoritative, and it was turning you on more by the second.

His cock was eye level with you, head red and glistening with pre-cum. Your mouth was watering at the sight, curious to know what he tasted like. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, giving him a sweet look before leaning forward and taking him in your mouth. You realized that he was much bigger than you’d anticipated, confidence slightly diminishing. You gripped him at the base, stroking the bottom half that couldn’t fit in your mouth. He let out a groan, watching you suck him off with nothing short of adoration. You took as much of him in your mouth as you could, slacking your jaw and relaxing your throat. He took it as an invitation, slowly thrusting in time with the bobbing of your head. He wasn’t being aggressive, wanting you to know you had the freedom to stop him if it got too much.

When you enthusiastically continued, he did, too. His fist found your hair again, holding your head in place while he fucked your mouth. He didn’t push you past your limit, but certainly tested it. When his hips stuttered slightly, you knew he was getting close to his orgasm. You didn’t care, wanting him bad enough that you’d let him finish wherever and however he wanted to. He pushed your head down on him as he pushed himself down your throat, causing you to gag, tears forming in your eyes. You felt him twitch in your mouth, wondering if he would stop or just finish right there. The noises and profanities that were slipping from his mouth were heavenly. Just when you thought he might cum, he pulled back from you completely. His breathing was heavy, jaw clenched and eyes a little sex-crazed.

“Up,” he ordered. You scrambled to your feet, still trying to process his quick withdrawals. He seemed to want you everywhere, in any way he could have you. You weren’t complaining, feeling the exact same way. You dreamt of having him like this so many times, and now that you did, you wanted him to have you in any way he pleased. He laid on the bed, looking to you. “Come here.” He held his arm out, motioning for you to join him. You moved towards him, climbing on top of him and straddling his waist. As you were lining yourself up with him, he held your hips, stopping you from going any further. He roughly pulled you upwards, catching you off guard. You caught his eyes, finally understanding what he wanted; He wanted you to sit on his face.

“Danny, I don’t know-“ his hand lifted to your face, gently brushing over your flushed cheeks.

“It’s okay, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to.” He assured you. The nervousness fizzled away.

“I just… I don’t want to hurt you or anything.” He let out a chuckle.

“Baby, I’m asking you to. If you hurt me by sitting on my face, I think I’d be very proud of that injury.” There was no tone of sarcasm or humour in his words. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay, but if you’re worried about me, don’t be.” His voice was firm, assuring you he was more than okay with the situation.

“Okay.” You whispered. He guided you upwards, settling his head between your legs. His hands were firmly planted on your ass as you hovered over his mouth. “I’ve never done this before.” You admitted.

“If you want me to stop, I will.” He said. You weren’t looking at him but you knew the sincerity was pooling in his eyes. He would never say that without meaning it. “Are you okay with this?” He asked again. His earlier aura of dominance had faltered. It was just Danny, as sweet as he’d always been. He always made you feel safe.

“Yeah, I am.” You replied. Once he heard your answer, he pulled you down onto his mouth. A gasp of surprise sounded from you, but it was quickly replaced with a cry of pleasure. You had to silence yourself, biting down on your lip. He was quick to the point, fucking you with his tongue. Your anxiety dissipated almost as soon as his tongue was on you, completely replaced with pleasure. His movement was fast, working at you like he had been dreaming of having you like that forever. Your hips involuntarily rocked into his movements.

The tip of his nose brushed against your clit, driving you closer to your orgasm. You let out a whine, knuckles gripping the blankets on the bed. He moved upwards, focusing his attention there and slowing his speed. The burning in your belly that had been building seemed to remain steady, the feeling radiating through every nerve in your body. It didn’t take long for your breathing to become ragged and your muscles to tense. Your moans were frantic, the heat of his mouth and the strokes of his tongue were heavenly for such a sinful activity. “Danny, m’gonna cum.” You whimpered. He hummed against you, encouraging you. His grip tightened on your ass, holding you down on his face. Within a few seconds, you hit your peak, unravelling and calling out his name. Your legs were shaking, knuckles turned white from your hold on the fistfuls of blankets. He rode you through it, slowly stopping his movements as he gently lifted you off of him.

“How was that, baby?” He breathed, looking up at you.

“S’good,” you sighed. He tapped your ass with his hand and you raised yourself up, freeing him without moving from where you were. He guided you back down his body, stopping you when you were over his hips. He didn’t give you any warning before he grabbed his cock in his hand and brought you down on him. The feeling of him inside you again was blissful. The feeling of him under you was, too. You started slowly, wanting to savour the moment. He allowed it for a few seconds, wanting that, too.

After a minute, he used a hand to pull you down to kiss him. He took the opportunity to fuck you at his own speed, hips raising from the bed and slamming into you. You moaned into his mouth, only making him fuck you harder. His tip was hitting your cervix, causing a pleasurable pain to shoot through you. You sat up again, riding him as he fucked into you. He had a hand on your hip and reached his other one up to cup your tit, grabbing your nipple and pinching it. You used one of your hands to rub circles into your clit. He was watching you carefully, soaking up every expression.

“Look so good riding me,” he mumbled, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You clenched around him, letting out a small gasp. “You’re my little whore, aren’t you?” He murmured. Your breath caught in your throat, looking down at him with wide eyes. Your orgasm was building again, pushing you closer with every move of his hips. Your fingers on your clit never slowed, desperate for another one. “Answer me.” He snapped.

“Y-yeah, I am,” You groaned. His eyes burned into you expectedly. You weren’t sure what exactly he wanted, but you had an idea. “Daddy.” you whispered. His jaw clenched, eyes rolling back in his head at the sound. You’d never pegged him for the type, but once you’d started fucking, you slowly started to realize there was a whole other side to him you knew nothing about.

“That’s my girl.” He was throbbing, also painfully close to his climax. “Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” He asked, voice faltering. He was barely holding back. Your fingers sped, not worried about holding on either. You nodded your head, but he wanted an answer. His hand on your hip moved, snaking behind you and landing a sharp slap on your ass.

“Yes, daddy, I am.” You moaned. With another thrust you came hard, palm planted on his chest so you wouldn’t fall over. “Fuck!” You cried. He wasn’t long finishing, pulling you down on his cock and staying buried in you.

“Oh fuck, y/n.” His eyes screwed shut, head falling back on the bed as he spilled into you. You collapsed on top of him, both sweaty and panting. His fingers danced over your back, tracing small patterns into your exposed skin. His lips found the top of your head, placing a sweet kiss on there. You melted into him, wishing you could stay like that with him forever.

Eventually, he helped you off of him, ordering you to lay back while he got something to clean you up with. When he returned, he wiped you off and pulled you in for a kiss. You savoured it, finally realizing that everything that happened was, in fact, real life. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, grabbing one of his shirts from his bag and handing it to you. You sat up and slipped it on. You both stood, gathering your pants from the ground. “That was fantastic.” You told him. A smile graced his lips.

“You are fantastic.” He said, pulling you into a hug. “I wish I could start every morning like that.” He sighed. You let out a giggle.

“Me, too.”

“You want to go find something to eat?” He asked. You gave a nod, making a move for the door. He grabbed your hand before you could leave the room, pulling you back to look at him. “I was also wondering, maybe, if you’d want to be my girlfriend?” A blush rose to his cheeks. You grinned, barely comprehending how he’d just had sex with you like that and was nervous to ask you to be his girlfriend. It was adorable.

“Yeah, Danny. I’d really like that.” His smile grew, too, as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Now let’s go get breakfast. We can see if the boys are still alive.” He kept his hand in yours as you both went downstairs. Nobody was in the kitchen when you got there, so you both went to work, finding something suitable to eat. In midst of cooking, the front door opened. You both turned to see Sam stumbling in. He immediately looked between both of you, raising an eyebrow. “Good morning,” you greeted.

“Glad to see you’ve both decided to join the rest of the world.” He said, making his way to the table. He took a seat before he spoke again. “I went to wake you up this morning only to find your bed empty. I thought that bear you’d been talking about really did get you.” He let out a disapproving tsk. “Turns out it was just Danny.” You felt heat rise to your face, knowing Sam knew exactly where you ended up last night.

“Yeah, I stayed with him last night. Thunder storm, couldn’t sleep.” You explained.

“Uh-huh,” Sam nodded, a mischievous smile on his face. “Josh and Jake went to check out the water earlier. I stayed back to wait for you both. Realized I would be waiting for a while, so I was forced to explore outside a little bit.” Your stomach dropped, realizing he’d heard you both this morning. You wanted to shrivel up and die.

“Shut up, Sam.” Danny dismissed him, seeing you were embarrassed.

“What! I’m happy you guys finally made a move. It was getting a little unbearable watching you two.” He laughed. You rolled your eyes, still cringing at the whole interaction. “Care to share some breakfast with the poor soul who had to listen?” You hid your face in your hand, wanting nothing more than to run away.

“Go and join your brothers,” Danny was holding back a laugh while he shoo’d him away. Sam raised his hands in defence, standing.

“Fine, I see how it is.” He stalked towards the door. “Oh, y/n?” He asked as his hand reached towards the knob. You looked to him, annoyed that he’d only come inside to poke fun at you.

“What, Sam?” You asked, knowing he wouldn’t let it go.

“Glad to see you really are enjoying the camping trip, after all.” He giggled to himself. You groaned.

“Never going to live this down, am I?” You muttered. He opened the door, taking a step outside.

“Never.” He assured you. He shut the door behind him, leaving you and Danny by yourselves again. You could tell he was trying to hold back from laughing.

“I wasn’t that loud, was I?” You asked. He looked to you from the corner of his eye.

“Um, no, I wouldn’t say so.” He tried to comfort you. You could tell he was lying.

“Danny! Why wouldn’t you say anything?” You smacked his arm. He gave a chuckle and a shrug.

“It was way too hot for me to tell you to be quiet.” You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at him.

“So you just subjected me to a life full of torment?” You couldn’t help but smile, too.

“I think it was well worth it.” He pulled you into him, lips landing on yours once again. As annoyed as you were, you couldn’t help but agree. You were certain everyone in the world could hate you, but if Danny was by your side, it wouldn’t matter. You would take a lifetime worth of bullying from Sam, because you finally had the one thing you’d wanted so badly for so many years. Hell, you were even thankful for the bugs, and the bears, and especially the thunderstorm, because it landed you there with him, making breakfast and wearing his clothes, as his girlfriend.

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alovelyburn · 1 year

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I already asked someone similar question but you are awesome too and I love all of the best berserk blogs equally. Which of your theories turned up to be true? Was it many? How did it felt? What did you didn’t predict? Would you change those? Anything made you almost quit? Favourite moment?

Baww, all the blogs love you back.

LETS SEE.

Which of your theories turned up to be true? Was it many? How did it felt? Well... I try to avoid predicting things for the most part, for various sundry reasons. So I guess my most well-confirmed theories are mostly related to my particular interpretations, which were then confirmed through interviews and etc.

ALL THAT SAID. I can think of two offhand.

-The Moonlight Kid being the baby and also sharing Griffith's body. This one was really popular though so its not like I'm alone here.

I think my less common prediction to come true was: -that Casca wouldn't end up joining the party and would instead end up sidelined again. It seems like most people (at least that I've seen) thought she'd wake up and become part of the team and go after Griffith with them, but that never felt right to me for reasons I have previously discussed (basically just that it would make the story about Casca to a larger degree than it was seemingly intended to be).

Now, I had two main theories on what might happen to take her joining them off the table, and one of them was...

That Casca would end up with Griffith somehow. Now, this one always kind of bothered me because I don't necessarily enjoy the idea of Casca going back to him willingly after the SA (although in fairness I guess going with Guts wouldn't be that much better). But nonetheless it did sort of "seem" like something that would happen when I thought with my writerly/plot analysis brain instead of just kind of wincing at the idea on a personal level.

Now, let's be clear rofl, I did not expect him to abduct her lmfao like that was surprising. Still, I did think there was a good chance she'd end up with him SOMEHOW, it was just a bit of a mind bender because I was hoping she wouldn't like, go join him but I wasn't sure how else she'd get there.

So yeah, that ended up being right although the specific mechanism was more mysterious to me.

As for how many things I was right about, well, so far I haven't been explicitly wrong about anything in terms of the interpretation theories. But that's just reading comprehension. Having that stuff validated felt pretty damn good, not gonna lie.

What did you didn’t predict? Would you change those?

Going back to the other possibility on why Casca would end up not traveling with them, I thought she might decide to retire and live in peace instead of going after Griffith with Guts. This was a thought I had because she is repeatedly shown telling Guts that it's okay to give up and run away and stop fighting, and because the conflict between them during the escape section of the story revolved around his refusal to back down even when it was extremely dangerous whereas she preferred to run or withdraw. That was the case with Wyald for example, and then also with the very concept of dissolving the Hawks. Given Skull Knight's comment about what he wants not being what she wants necessarily this was a pretty good bet. ...obviously it was wrong, though. I think I preferred this idea over the Griffith thing, but I couldn't say whether I'd change it because it's too early to judge the plot turn since I haven't seen its outcome yet.

THE OTHER BIG THING WAS

I did think Puck had a good chance of being gone after Elfhelm collapsed. I also wondered at the time whether Elfhelm disappearing had a wider effect on the world, mostly because I couldn't (and still can't) figure out why the hell Isma disappeared if it was just the Elfhelm residents that went. As it turns out it does seem to have just been Elfhelm (plus, uh Isma for some reason), though, which is fine.

Anything made you almost quit? Well, the very first time I tried to read it I dropped it sometime during Black Swordsman so maybe that counts. But after that? Nah. Not for a single second. I'm ride or die for Berserk to the end.

Favourite moment?

Didn't even have to think about it.

#ask #anonymous #ariel talks about berserk

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jamesdsass · 3 months

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TAROT READINGS

James Sass - Tarot Reader & Advisor

3 card reading $15

7 card reading $35

10 card reading $50

On Instagram, Facebook, or via Text.

In person at Abraxas Books in Daytona Beach Florida.

Here is how the online reading works: After I confirm payment I will get back to you within 24-48 hours with a photograph of the card spread along with the interpretation. Take as much time as you need to chew over it and get back to me with any questions or comments which I will address to the best of my ability. The readings can be done over Facebook messenger, Instagram or by text. You do not have to be online at the same time or respond during the initial reading. I would actually suggest reading the entire interpretation over as a whole before we discuss it and address any questions you may have.

"Access to truth demands a passage beyond the compass of ordered thought. And by the same token: the teaching of transcendent truth cannot be by logic, but only by pregnant paradox and by symbol and image." -- Heinrich Zimmer.

"When you cut into the present the future leaks out." -- William S. Burroughs

If a picture is worth a thousand words, the tarot is a collection of 78 pictures. The tarot is like a 78 page picture book that rewrites itself every time you shuffle the deck into an astronomical number of different sequential combinations and permutations to tell unique story each time.

Every tarot card reader has their own style of communication. I do not use nebulous New Age jargon or cheesy motivational self-help psychobabble. I also do not whitewash anything. I try to describe what I see with as much precision as possible, good or bad.

JDS

_________________________

Over 35 years of Tarot study and experience reading for others. I read exclusively with Tarot of Marseille. One 7-card spread covering past, present, future, forces needed to control, influence of the environment, opposing forces, and outcome, photo interpretation and Q&A = $35. 10 card expanded reading $50. Message me here and/or connect with "James Sass - Tarot Readings" on Facebook or @james.d.sass or @abraxasbooks on instagram. General reading or specific question. Paypal only. Message for details. Feel free to ask any questions in the comments section.

# tarot #tarotcards #tarotspread #tarotdeck. #tarotreading #tarotreader #tarotreadings #tarotreadingsonline #tarotreadersofig #tarotreadersofinstagram #jodorowsky #psychomagic

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sparkling-pink-lemonade · 9 months

Note

(Different anon) Honestly I think it would have been better to just. Not react to the anti in a sexual manner At All /nm Because like...Idk, I don't think it's really okay to do that without consent Anyway (not that the anti's behavior was any better, of course). Discussing nsfw topics is not consent to being talked to in a sexual manner by a stranger, regardless of age. At that point, it strikes me as responding to harassment with...sexual harassment.

I think responding in a snarky way is fine, I'm not trying to say that you have to be nice to those who treat you poorly. But in my personal opinion, it's never appropriate to make sexual comments directly towards a real person without their consent, regardless of age. Them being a minor just makes it worse

(Not mad btw, this isn't intended to be read aggressively, so I apologize if it comes off that way)

Would have it been better? Yeah. I answered the previous ask with #morally grey because I knew it would have been the right thing to do to fix it. But if I'm honest, this blog exists because sometimes I don't want to be the better person. I have my own moral code, and I'm aware parts of it will contradict the morals of greater society, and such isn't always the best course of action. But isn't that just the spirit of proship in a way? To stick with your own morals, against the grain of society?

I fully expect people to not agree with how I handled the situation. And if it's enough to upset someone, I don't mind getting blocked.

That out of the way, it's possible their post could be considered harassment. While it lacked the criteria of targeting me with the intention to upset or intimidate, it had provided people a way to easily find my blog and send an attack if they wanted. But it was hardly harassment to me, and outcome is just as important as intent. It caused no distress, just amusement.

And then my post attached no name other than my own. No reblog, no @, no tags to search. On top of that, it is with the knowledge the referenced person already has me blocked. It's more akin to mockery and talking behind someone's back, intent to make fun of the idea of someone and the language used. The outcome? Well... unless they go out of their way to circumvent their own block and cyberstalk, or someone deliberately shows them a screenshot to spy on me on their behalf, the outcome is just the ignorance of never knowing about my post.

Is it mean spirited and rude of me? Oh absolutely. Inappropriate and a bit disgusting? Yeah. But this is the internet. Society at our fingertips. The good, the bag, the ugly. I don't want everyone to agree with me, and I don't want to be morally pure. And if someone has the ability to just step out into the hearth without the guidance of a guardian, they must use the tools at their disposal to protect themselves and maintain their boundaries, and understand that not everyone cares to have their best interest in mind.

I'd say the best course of action against mine when dealing with discomfort is an attempt at reason if bold enough, and then block if no change is made. And if I were dumb and cruel enough to escalate the situation, go out of my way to make sure they see and continue to receive unwanted comments, then more excessive measures against harassment in which I would be facing punishment at that point.

Anyways, I'm not mad either~ I just love finally being able to be forward and unsanitized in an argument regarding morals/ethics.

#proship #anti mention #ask #nsft #morally grey #moral debate #ethical debate #ethical dilemmas #youthlib ideology #anti purity culture #anti harassment #but not everyone is going to agree with me on what constitutes as harassment

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unknownuser19970330 · 1 year

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三体Rant

Evidence that the writer does not like women, let’s say that the logic of him not liking women can be an assumption made by me, one argument can definitely be made is that he holds stereotypes towards women, and these stereotypes that he has towards women has led to the discussion of women in this book being associated with weak, emotional, and illogical

Cheng xin’s arc: argument—the gender of the character can be easily swapped, gender is not important in the arc, why is it that he emphasizes the woman gender identity, her beauty, and the earlier arc with the guy who bought her a star? This one specific part of arc simply does not contribute to the plot

Within Cheng xin’s arc, the repetitive emphasis on gender identity, the feminization of the future society, and the repeated emphasis between the failure for the society to defend against three body alien and the feminine emphasis, and words that specifically value and try to draw causal conclusions between the feminist and the failure. Let’s say that if it is not a causal conclusion, it is hard to argue that correlation and association relationship does not exist between the two given the repeated emphasis throughout this arc

Cheng Xin’s arc as a whole, with the specific emphasis on the guy who bought the planet. It’s a guy who has barely talked to her, but made on the assumption that it’s act is romantic. Is this not creepy? If a woman buys you a planet, and you only talked to this woman once and you talked to her out of pity possibly (you may argue that it’s not pity, but the evidence mostly suggests that it’s pity)

“Fatal mistakes” are made by two women in the book, Wenjie and Chengxin, you may argue that Wenjie did not make a fatal mistake from a subjective opinion (for example me, I would not argue wenjie made a mistake as my personal value lies in that human civilization is a piece of shit that should be eradicated? But this isn’t proof, proof can be listed as those comments that criticize wenjie letting aliens in, or you can present the prooof as the harm it has caused humanity wenjie’s decision has done)

Cheng xin and 维德 arc, you can tell from his assumption and his worldview that he def has audacity, the fact that wei de desdass just asked “give me everything you have and your authority and your reputation” and the fact that Cheng xin desdass gave him everything, even tho they both share the same goals, the lack of explanation on why this is a good idea and lack of explanation on why psychology of Cheng xin makes her an unsuitable person to take over this project makes 0 sense, it is reasonable to argue that writer has the simple assumption that women are not capable of projects like this (again showing his bias), if he truly is a good writer he would be able to dissect the psychology and explain so, there’s 0 evidence to why wei de would be a good candidate other than the fact that he appears “masculinity and persistent??” (Literally makes no sense)

Need more evidence on this thought: men and womens diff in logic in this book, women understand and believe peoples words, men choose to only believe in their own words and somehow that turns out better but in realistic world that’s not how it works, it’s almost demonstrated that if women listen to others it leads wrong outcome, parallel with men never listening to people?

Overall review so far

Great creativity that is backed up by solid science, I respect that amount of effort he put in in expanding every physics theory and uses the solid physics theory to support it. Apologize for the lack of vocab, but the plot is fascinating as he manages to provide the twists and turns unexpectedly that keeps you engaged

However, lots of aspects of books are written from his bias and you can tel.

Whenever he discusses the future of science and technology in psychology, it is heavily colored by his bias and lacks any empirical research support. Wth neuroscience he tried his best, it’s semi-accurate. When it comes to gender and technology and future interaction he def is bringing his bias in.

You can also tell that he lacks knowledge on the development and changes of humanity society and lacks knowledge on sociology, when he discusses how the society has changed in terms of politicians’ attitude, the 率真ness of危机纪元 and how that changed back to the previous 公元时代 during掩体纪元, he made 0 explanation as to how societal changes like this and cultural changes like this relates to the science and technology and finance changes within the society.

The writer also has a major flaws in the sense that a lot of things he 铺垫 for actually has no logic reasoning (星环城 arc）, it only was good because it had good end result. Arcs with women just have bad results, whereas arcs with men as main charaycers and what they are doing aren’t necessarily better but they just have better results which appears to make the process logical reasonable and good

Cheng xin VS 维德星环城arc reflects that in this man, there is no in between between choosing humanity and the “so called logic and rationality and violence”. Likely in the rest of the plot, he will make Cheng xin regret her decision again in choosing humanity, but there is in fact nothing wrong with Cheng xin choosing humanity and anti-war. In fact, if he is a good writer and truly has a rationality in supporting initiating war out of the motivation to venture into space, he should give better reasoning. Currently he did not explain the motivation well of developing light speed spacecraft other than viewing that as a way to violate humans right

To enter the space, the reasoning to state that staying in the solar system is jail makes no sense as well. This is an assumption that humans should have the right to venture into the space and believes that it’s the right thing, I think this is very much an emotional reasoning that he has. He will again use his patriarchal values and views and paint Cheng xin as making a mistake when in fact Cheng xin did not make a mistake in that moment as it is a valid reasoning to make a logical decision, but he will use a result oriented approach and paint Cheng Xin as making a mistake

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sour--disposition · 3 years

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Behind His Back

harry lewis x fem!reader

please see my pinned post for masterlists/request info :)

requested: Hello, could you do something where reader is best mates with cal and he brings her to shoots and in vids and such and her and Harry are kinda together but no one knows then someone accidentally outs them thanks !! 🙌🏻

Yours and Cal’s laughter reached the spot that the other guys had picked for filming long before the two of you did, poking and chasing each other as you barrelled through the doors. Cal was joining in on some game that they were filming for moresidemen and he’d dragged you along so you could sit off camera and poke fun at all eight of them.

As soon as you’d fallen into the venue, a bright smile had stretched across Harry’s face. Seeing you as happy and full of life as you were made him impossibly happy, as soppy as it sounded. All he wanted was to wander over and pull you into his arms, maybe surprise you so you let out that funny squeal you did whenever she shocked you.

But he couldn’t.

Although he’d never said it, it was sort of an unwritten rule of Cal’s that you were off limits for any of his friends. Maybe that made it all the more exciting, sneaking around behind your best friend’s back. You knew that it wouldn’t end well, it would either end in heartbreak between you and Harry or anger from Cal. Neither was an outcome you wanted, but one of them was bound to be inevitable.

Ethan had noticed Harry staring at you and was prepared to embarrass his best friend, not knowing that he was one of the only people that knew the truth about yours and Harry’s relationship. “Gonna go give your girlfriend a smooch, Bog?”, Ethan asked, grin as bright as ever as he shoved Harry playfully in your direction.

You and Harry both froze, eyes wide in surprise and fear. The humour drained out of Ethan’s face as he watched yours and Harry’s reactions and a tense atmosphere immediately fell over the group. Even the camera crew looked awkward.

You could see Harry desperately trying to conjure up some sort of excuse for what Ethan had just said. Ethan looked like he would do just about anything to retract his words. But what was said was said and you just had to deal with the consequences.

“What the fuck is he on about?”, Cal asked, voice harsh and angry. His eyes were fixed on Harry, practically pinning him to the spot. “Harry. What the fuck is Ethan on about?”.

“Look, mate-”, Harry started, words getting caught in his throat.

“How could you?”, Freezy spat, voice like venom. He turned to you, looking at you like you’d just taken a knife to his back. “And you?”.

“Don’t be mad at her, Cal”, Harry pleaded, voice desperate.

“I’ll be mad at whoever the fuck I wanna be mad at!”, Cal shouted, making Harry jump and sending a wave of anger coursing through your veins.

“You know what, no”, you started, leaving Cal’s side of the room and walking to stand in between the two of them. “You have no right to be mad. We’re adults. We don’t answer to you. I don’t answer to you”, you stressed.

You could tell that the others in the room had no idea what to do. Guilt was written all over Ethan’s face and varying levels of worry and awkwardness seemed to be spread throughout the rest of the guys. Everyone was following the discussion like a ball in a tennis match.

“I live with him and you’re my best friend, I’m kind of involved in this!”, Cal exclaimed. You mumbled something under your breath that neither Cal or Harry heard, but it only seemed to antagonise Cal more. “What?”, he demanded.

“I’m just saying, last time I checked, it’s not you sneaking me into your apartment, but whatever”, you commented casually.

“Y/N”, Harry warned from behind you, taking a few steps closer to you.

“I’m not going to pick between my best friend and my boyfriend!”, you cemented. “If you’re going to make me pick, you’re making the decision for me”, you told Cal, a finger pointed towards him. “And it won’t go in your favour”, you cautioned.

“You’d pick Harry over me?”, Cal asked, looking genuinely offended. “I’ve known you since we were 12”, he reminded you.

“I love him”, you said, voice suddenly small and shy. “And if you don’t want any part of that, then I don’t know what to tell you”, you shrugged before turning your back and walking out of the venue.

Harry stood stock still. Everything in his body was telling him to chase after you, tell you that he felt the same way, but he couldn’t get his body to move. The shock of Cal finding out and then you telling everyone that you loved him, it left him paralysed.

“Is anyone gonna go after her?”, Vik asked, eyes tearing between Harry and Cal.

“I’ll go”, Harry and Freezy said at the same time.

“She won’t wanna see you right now, mate… In the nicest way possible”, Harry told his friend, leaving him no time to answer before following you out of the venue and finding you a few feet away, sat on a bench.

“Hey”, Harry said, catching your attention. He sat down next to you, forearms resting on his thighs as he leaned forwards. “That could’ve gone better”, he whispered, pulling a sardonic laugh from you.

“You think”, you snorted.

“I love you, too”, Harry blurted, barely giving you time to finish your sentence.

Before you had a chance to say or do anything in response, Cal was stalking away from the venue doors and towards the two of you. “Cal-”, you started.

“Look”, he sighed. “I reacted badly. I shouldn’t have gotten angry, alright”, he huffed. “I was just caught off guard, I had no idea”, he defended.

“That was sort of the point”, you chuckled. “Because we were worried about what you’d say”, you explained. “Or that you’d react like this”.

Harry sat still beside you, always unsure of what to do or say when it came to disagreements between you and Cal, and it was only made worse by the fact that he was in the middle of the situation. He let his hand leave his lap and join yours, squeezing around your fingers supportively.

“Nothing I say is gonna make this go away?”, Cal asked, face pulled with pain.

“No”, you said simply, a sense of finality settling in your voice. “If you love me enough to be worried about Harry hurting me, then you love me enough to let me love Harry”, you told him gently. “And, in the nicest way possible, it really has nothing to do with you”.

Cal sat down next to you, a heavy sigh leaving his chest as he sunk into the bench. “I feel like I should’ve seen this coming”, he complained.

“To be honest, mate, you really are clueless”, Harry chuckled from beside you.

“How long have you been together?”, Cal asked you, looking up at you from his dejected slump.

“Officially, almost three months”, you told Cal.

“Unofficially?”, he asked warily.

“Nearly six”, you admitted.

“How did I not realise?”, Cal groaned, dropping his head against the backrest of the bench. “I can’t believe I missed it”.

“We were really good at hiding it”, Harry shrugged. “It was like mission impossible to be honest, you made everything quite inconvenient”, he jibed, earning him a swat over the head from Cal.

“At least I never heard you shagging”, Cal sighed. His eyes went wide as a silence fell over you and Harry, a smirk threatening to peak through onto your lips. “Are you fucking kidding me!?”, he exclaimed, almost jumping up out of his seat.

“Yeah, none of those one night stands were one night stands”, Harry mumbled as he itched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry, and all”. You could see Cal cringing, knowing that he’d heard his two best friends have sex with each other couldn’t have been a fun thought to have running through his mind.

“If you excuse me, I am off to pour acid into my ears”.

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fire-lady-ilah · 3 years

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More good dad! Ozai AU? Even if you didn’t ask for it, you’re getting it and I’m picking up right where I left off. This is my reminder that, while Ozai is a good and non-abusive dad and husband in this, he is still very much an imperialist and a cruel person in general.

Parts [1] and [2] if you’d like. This is part 3. Here’s part [4]

The siblings venture into the capital, although they make it known that no one should inform their parents that they are nearby. The moment they step off the ship, Captain Jee sends a letter to the Fire Lady. He was loyal to the Prince and Princess above all, but he did not feel like being executed or exiled that day when Lady Ursa inevitably finds out.

In a large house just outside Caldera City, Lord Ukano lives with his wife, Michi, his daughter and heir, Mai, and his newborn son Tom-Tom. The Dragon Emperor and the Blue Spirit sneak into the bedroom of the heiress and steal her away.

In that I mean, Mai leaps at the opportunity to escape her home with her best friends, who she’s seen wearing the same theatre masks dozens of times, and follows willingly. It takes an hour longer than the siblings had expected, if only because Mai has far more knives than they had truly expected and they get caught up in the palace kitchens stealing Azula’s favourite mochi and some bags of fire flakes.

Then they are caught by Fire Lady Ursa, who is gathering a late night cup of cocoa after a nice night with her husband, not that her children need to know that part. Her children, who are wearing her theatre masks that had very recently gone missing from her collection, stare at her innocently. Her daughter carries two entire boxes she knows are full of mochi. Her son carries the fire flake bag they use for festivals. Her one day daughter-in-law is making a cup of cocoa and the Fire Lady calmly requests one for herself from the girl.

That night, the fire Prince and Princess sleep in their own rooms, with Lady Mai in one of the many available. In the morning, they take breakfast with the Fire Lord and Lady, discussing trivial matters of politics and domestic affairs.

Mai leaves on the request of the Fire Lord, bringing everything they took from her home and the palace (along with what Ursa and Ozai insisted they take) to the ship with the help of some soldiers.

Azula and Zuko sit with their parents. Ursa gives them each two potent bottles of poison. Ozai’s voice has a worry that only his family knows how to detect through the facade of boredom as he inquires how their firebending and blades practice has been, as to the state of their weaponry. They try to soothe their parents worries with assurances: their practice has been going well in both bending and blades, Azula has achieved perfection in lightningbending and Zuko has achieved lightning, their blades are sharp and well maintained, they weren’t harmed when the temple blew up—

It slips through Zuko’s lips. He was never the actor like his mother and sister. For their part, his parents do not react overly beyond a flickering of the flame and a long sip of tea.

“Your mission has changed.”

Ozai is smart. Everything he does is to serve his goals the best they can. In canon, the premier of those goals is to gain more power for himself. In this world, that goal is to secure the ideal outcome for his family. (Of course, his second goal is as much power as possible. But it is only considered after his first goal).

Allying themselves with the Avatar, at least in appearances, will secure the best outcome for his children. And he has no doubt that his brother (so weak after the death of his son. And yet, Ozai cannot find it within him to scorn him overly. He knows that were he to be left childless, he would break. It is merely that Ozai would break in an explosion, whereas Iroh’s flame fizzled into embers.) would eagerly help his children betray him. Even if it was just in appearances.

His children are loyal and dutiful. They protest, but only out of a desire to maintain that loyalty. He wishes the Avatar had remained hidden, at least until they were both adults. They are prodigal, yes, but they are just siblings.

“You have our permission to reveal your mother’s ancestry. Use it wisely.”

The children know their lineage for at least five generations on each side. That, of course, is in addition to their knowledge of every Fire Lord that has reigned since the unification of the Fire Nation. They are well aware that their Grandmother Rina (who feeds them chocolate and tells them stories whenever she visits) ‘s father was Avatar Roku. Just as they knew of the friendship between Fire Lord Sozin and Avatar Roku.

It is necessary for the people of their nation to hear pretty lies. It is not their responsibility to worry about the nuance and complexity of life. It is one of their responsibilities as Angi’s heirs in the mortal world. To worry of such things is a burden they should not have to bear. It is necessary for the people to believe the Avatar hated the Fire Lord.

The siblings don’t know everything, of course. They are just children after all. But they understand the nuance, the conflicting beliefs. They were told the truth (and carefully kept from necessary propaganda before then) when they were old enough to look critically at the situation. It was their duty to bring the Fire Nation’s good to the other nations, to liberate their populations, the siblings decided.

The Avatar is just a child, but he seemed able to connect with his past lives. And he had pointedly not hurt them, at least as Avatar Roku.

If nothing else, they have the Dragon Emperor and Blue Spirit on their side.

“Zhao has asked for permission to launch an invasion on the Northern Water Tribe. He is a fool, but he claims he has knowledge that will ensure his victory. Tomorrow, I will send him a letter approving his asinine idea. You will stop him— kill him, if you must— and use that act of perceived treason to ally yourselves with the Avatar.”

Ozai wants power, but he is no fool. The invasion is risky at best. He cannot find it within himself to care for the tens of thousands that would doubtlessly die in it, the Northern Water Tribe had the advantage in multiple ways. It would serve its purpose to get his children at the Avatar’s side.

The tone lightens after his orders and Ozai steps back from his role as Father Lord into just being a father. He teases his son on his interactions with his betrothed. He teases his daughter and asks if she would be visiting the circus soon, taking note of how she had learned to prevent a blush but not the squeak in her voice. They are not infallible, they are children.

As they see their children for the last time in the foreseeable future, the Fire Lord and Lady both think as to how much they will miss them. Ursa blinks back tears as she hugs them both, smiling as they react identically, burying their faces into her chest to hide them and breathing in the scent of fire lily perfume.

Ozai is not usually physically affectionate with his children. He had never received it from his father and was much more competent in other ways. That being said, no one commented on the kiss he pressed to the top of Zuko’s head (still shorter than him by quite a bit. Sometimes he acted so adult, but he was so clearly still a child) before repeating the action with Azula.

“I am so proud of you. Both of you.”

I’m just now realizing Blue Spirit is supposed to be after the whole Roku thing. Oh well.

For appearances’ sake, the siblings and Mai continue to chase the Avatar. Zhao attacks the Avatar while he trains under the Deserter. Princess Azula ensures the forest doesn’t burn while Prince Zuko uses all the bottled up anger at both Zhao himself and Azulon (really, what is with grown men trying to kill 11/12 year olds?) to yell at Zhao for acting so recklessly.

And if, perhaps, he manages to endear himself to others by knocking Zhao’s feet out from under him, all the better.

The Avatar and his friends escape and the siblings celebrate another success as Zhao nurses his bruised ass and ego.

(“Hey, did the Deserter look like that dude in Master Piandao’s painting in his main hall to you?”

“Admiral Jeong Jeong and Master Piandao were married, Zuko. Obviously that was him.”)

Zhao attempts to order their crew away from them, citing his rank as admiral as above prince and princess.

Azula’s sharp tongue reminds Admiral Zhao that Zuko is not only a prince, but the Crown Prince, and thus he is equal in rank to Zhao. As was their uncle a general, retired or not.

Behind the royalty of the ship stands Captain Jee, his eyes locked with Zhao’s. His eyes promise mutiny even if he were to somehow take them. His eyes swear loyalty to the Crown Prince, to his sister, above all else.

Zhao turns to leave.

“Of course, that is not to say we will not join your invasion.” Zuko sounds like his father sometimes, and never more than when his voice holds a hint of smug satisfaction. “Merely, do not presume to think you can order us in any way. We out rank you, and our crew is the best our Nation has to offer.”

Their ship joins, at least in appearance, Zhao’s fleet. That being said, they obey no orders from the Admiral and only allow his “inspections” of the ship and their crew once. For all intents and purposes, they are just there to observe.

And observe they do. The siblings watch the way Zhao treats his subordinates and twin righteous flames burns in their chests. The truth of being raised by a loving father means that Zuko and Azula are both rather sheltered in comparison to their canon selves. They are raised on ideals of honour and the divine responsibility of a monarch, rather than on the truths of war and practicality of rule. It only results in a hotter fire and more questions as to if Sozin’s way was truly the one to follow.

They still have absolute faith in their father. After all, he is the one that raised them, that taught them of honour and the ideals of a monarch. He is the one that sheltered them. He is the one that suggested they befriend the Avatar to keep them safe.

On the ship, only three people know the entire plan. The first two are the siblings, of course. The third is Captain Jee. He is the one that will keep their ship away from the invasion itself so there is no risk of their crew being harmed in the doomed attack. He is the one that will direct the ship to the colonies once the siblings are with the Avatar. Captain Jee has no qualms about technically commuting treason.

Mai knows some of the plan. In that, Mai knows exactly what Zuko and Azula tell her and then what she observes. She sees the way they stick together, now more than ever. Sees the way that Azula trains her non-lethal lightning (because even she, a nonbender, knows it’s far harder to bend lightning that doesn’t kill than that that does). She hears the way they drop the title of Fire Lord when speaking of their royal great grandfather. She catches whispers about Fire Lord Roku. About the Avatar.

Mai, in a way, knows more than the siblings themselves. She knows that they are genuinely sympathetic toward the Avatar in a way that they don’t yet realize. She begins to keep all her knives on her person, along with an easily grab-able bag for travelling in her room. There was no way she’d be letting her best friends turn traitor without her. This is the most exciting thing she’s done in years.

Iroh knows less than he believes. Oh, he gets the dropped title just as well as Mai, but he does not know the intricacies of Zuko and Azula the way Mai does. He sees Azula’s practice and writes it off as her ever-present search for perfection. He catches the tail end of a conversation between siblings and does not stop to consider who exactly “great grandfather” may be referring to. It would be unthinkable for his brother to tell the children of their heritage.

Despite this, Iroh also knows more than most. He knows from conversation exactly what Zhao intends to do in the Northern Water Tribe and it turns his blood to boil.

They reach the Northern Water Tribe. The siblings sneak off the ship in an emergency boat. Mai enters at the last moment and neither send her away.

Iroh has already left the ship, though he is currently in one last meeting with Zhao in an attempt to convince him not to continue with his plan. He will not check back with his niece and nephew, believing them to be safe on the ship.

In the Northern Water Tribe, the three Fire Nation teens remain tucked into the shadows. They, unfortunately, have no idea where the Avatar is and wander through the city. However, they reach the Avatar’s friends before Zhao does.

(“Is he... alive?”

“He’s just meditating.”)

It goes far better than they could have expected. The siblings’ act of releasing Sokka and Katara from Zhao’s bindings results in a part of water tribe siblings being quite willing to hear them out. Princess Yue gives them an odd look but remains quiet.

Zhao shows up. Iroh shows up. Azula and Zuko denounce him (though they cannot bring themselves to denounce their father, even though they know they should). Zhao declares them all traitors, a koi fish in a bag in his hand.

A bolt of lightning hits Zhao straight in the back. Both he and the koi fish fall into the pool of water. He does not emerge.

Azula’s face is carefully blank, even as she watches the water. She cannot stop to consider whether it is her or the water that just killed the admiral, or if he was even dead at all. She could not even see his body in its depths. She used non-lethal strength.

Despite Princess Yue’s backing, the Northern Water Tribe wants to take the siblings prisoner (hostage, everyone knows). After all, everyone knows of the devotion they show to the Fire Lord and vice versa. If nothing else, they would be excellent bargaining pieces in a more formal treaty.

They had not factored this into their plan. Admittedly, they had not factored the Northern Water Tribe into their plan at all.

The three Fire Nation teens are thrown into a prison cell. A rather comfortable prison cell, but still a prison cell. Iroh is taken somewhere else.

Within five hours, they sit on the back of a flying bison, Sokka handing them food he had smuggled out of the meal as Katara was smuggling them out of prison.

(“We tried to get your Uncle too,” the Avatar says in a remorseful tone, “but we couldn’t find him.”

“Uncle will be fine.” Azula declares, her mind set only on the future as she tries not to think about the way Zhao sunk beneath the still surface of the pond.

Zuko nods in agreement and clutches her hand in a comforting way.)

The Gaang now consists of six people:

Aang, a twelve year old Avatar with a mastery in air and a decent proficiency in water. He looks at the Fire Nation teens and sees his friend Kuzon, sees a time from before the war when an Air Nomad could wander freely through the Fire Nation. He attempts to use Fire Nation slang with them but it’s a century old and results in only laughter.

Katara, a master waterbender and healer (a concept that intrigues Azula to no end, although she tries to keep her questions polite). She tends to have a short temper when it comes to matters of the Fire Nation, but even she can be coaxed into trying a few sweets that Zuko has stored in his bag.

Sokka, a hunter and warrior who may or may not be engaged to the NWT princess (Zuko says he is, Azula says he isn’t). Azula laments that her jokes are even worse than Zuko’s, to which Mai agrees. It is that comment that leads Sokka and Zuko to start bonding, having nothing better to do on the bison’s back than exchange bad jokes.

Crown Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, who Sokka would insist is walking Fire Nation propaganda as he goes on at least one rant about Fire Nation culture and technology a day. Who surprisingly helps Katara with the cooking because it was one of the things Fire Lady Ursa carried over from before she was Fire Lady and taught to her children.

Princess Azula of the Fire Nation, who has a sharp tongue and a sharper pair of twin daggers that she seems to enjoy threatening her brother with for any inconvenience, even though they both just laugh at it. (Katara and Sokka have to be assured by them both that they truly love each other and that threatening each other with weapons carried over from the theatre scrolls they used to act out as children).

Lady Mai talks the least, seemingly content just to talk to Zuko and Azula. Aang makes it his mission to get her to warm up to him and spends a good portion of his time trying to talk to her. He succeeds when he brings up air ball, of all things. Mai’s parents had discouraged her from sport, believing it to be unfitting of a young lady just as they had discouraged her interest in knives until Zuko and Azula had ganged up on them. Partially for that reason, Mai enjoyed sports quite a bit, a shock to even Zuko (though Azula knew). After that, she talks mainly to Zuko, Azula, and Aang.

Captain Jee guides his ship to the Fire Nation colonies, unable to confirm that his Prince and Princess were okay. He hadn’t expected the worry he feels now, but he knows he will be awaiting a letter at Yu Dao if they are safe.

Prince Iroh is startled to discover that, while meeting with Master Pakku, the Avatar, his friends, his nephew and niece, and Mai had all disappeared.

As had his ship.

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court-of-forever-undone · 3 years

Text

My Sister’s Love | Taryn POV

Chapter Three

Summary: Taryn pieces together her memories of Cardan and Jude’s early interactions as she reflects on how their relationship came to be and the events of the last year. As happy as she is for them, she can’t help but feel jealous of the moments they share.

Tags: Taryn’s POV of Jude x Cardan, Final Part

Read on AO3

After that dinner, we found Jude awake in her old rooms sitting with Tatterfell and Oak. For a moment, it was easy to pretend nothing had happened. She wore one of the black gowns she favored since becoming seneschal and was eating from a tray in front of her. But as she turned to face us, the wince she failed to hide and the paleness of her skin were reminders that she had nearly died just days ago. Her hair had been braided to mimic a crown, which was another reminder that my sister was not the same twin I had known.

Before we had a chance to talk, Cardan appeared. He likely came straight from his rooms, after finding them empty. Every fiber of my being wanted to grab Jude’s arm when Cardan asked her to join him, but I saw the dusting of pink spread across her cheeks as she saw him in the doorway, so I stood there silently. Jude would have probably ignored any word of caution coming from me anyways. We still had yet to fully come to terms with everything that happened between us.

When it had been hours and Jude had yet to return, I went to the royal chambers to see if she had gone straight there, but instead, I found Garrett.

While Jude had at least recovered some from her near-death experience, Garrett looked like the ghost of the beautiful sandy-haired boy I had met before. It might have been a funny observation given his code name, but all humor was lost in the moment. He had lost weight and his face had sunken in. When our eyes met, I saw the plea in them before he opened his mouth.

The next few hours were a blur. When Jude finally arrived at Hollow Hall, I was surprised to see she had allowed Cardan to come along. Cardan had proved he would follow my sister into the heart of an enemy war camp, despite better judgment, but this time Jude had chosen to invite him along with her.

After I commanded Garrett to stop, cursing myself for not thinking to do it earlier, we moved to a parlor room and I explained how we had come to know each other through Locke’s carelessness.

We discussed the events of what Garrett had done at Locke and Madoc’s command. It turned out that Garrett had been the one to shoot Queen Orglah. Even if he had been commanded to do it, Nicasia and the seafolk would see him as a traitor and demand that he be punished, which meant his life was entirely at the mercy of Jude and Cardan. I couldn’t help but see the resemblance to my own situation.

When Cardan made a comment about me lurking around the palace, I revealed that I had no intention of going anywhere until I knew that Jude would be safe. Our relationship may be strained, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make up for my actions.

Cardan wore an expression that showed he was tired of this conversation. “Jude and I had a misunderstanding. But we’re not enemies. And I am not your enemy, either, Taryn.”

As a faerie, I knew he couldn’t lie, but that didn’t matter. Maybe he didn’t think of us as enemies, he could still think of us as toys.

“But you think everything’s a game. You and Locke.” His name tasted like ash in my mouth.

“Unlike Locke, I never thought love was a game. You may accuse me of much, but not that.” Cardan shared softly.

The air in the room shifted as Cardan's gaze fell upon Jude, who refused to even look in his direction before quickly changing the subject.

For the first time, it was not just me who was drawing a comparison between our loves. While Cardan’s words came out more as a confession to Jude than a taunt at me, the words still stung. Locke had thought love to be a game. But Cardan, the cruel, spoiled prince did not think love was a game.

How had I believed Locke was my future?

In the carriage back to the palace, Cardan broke the silence by asking about some of the things he had seen on his way to Vivi’s apartment. Most of his questions were about the dishwasher which had been running in the apartment, how mortal mailboxes worked, how secure they were in protecting incoming mail, and what slushies tasted like.

By the end of the ride, I couldn’t help but laugh at his questions which seemed so trivial given the circumstances we all found ourselves in. When we were alone I turned to Jude, who was barely awake on her feet.

“Do you trust him?” I asked. It was the question that had been gnawing at me since our return.

Jude thought for a moment before sighing. “Sometimes,” she responded.

It was enough to make me warn her. Did I think Cardan loved her? Yes. But was Cardan trustworthy? It was hard to forget the years of our childhood together that suggested otherwise and if Jude who had gotten to know him closer than any of the rest of us questioned it, then it was probably best not to.

I had been blinded by my love for Locke that I trusted him to take care of me. I didn’t want the same to happen to Jude, even if seeing them care for each other made my heart ache with envy.

____________________________________________________________

In the days leading up to Madoc’s arrival, all of Elfhame seemed to be on alert; waiting for something to happen. Whispers that bordered on treason could be heard on the grounds and it seemed that everyone had begun placing bets on the outcome of the meeting. It seemed that many of the Folk had questions around the legitimacy of a human queen and the chance the High King’s army stood against a Redcap led army.

Madoc would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Vivi, Jude, and I all knew that. I did not have to attend strategy meetings to know they were facing a serious threat.

Amidst the preparations for possible battle, the whole castle seemed to note the change in the High King and Queen’s dynamic. For one, their marriage was now common knowledge, but more than that there was a closeness between them that had never been there before.

At first, it was not-so-secret handholding and shared looks at mealtimes. Once at dinner, Cardan made a joke about the dangers of in-laws and Jude rolled her eyes before letting a real smile show.

Then, rumors began to spread that a servant had walked into the royal chambers to replace the bedding and apparently caught the two in a compromising position even though they were supposed to be in a war meeting.

I was doubtful when I first heard, but I even overheard some council members complaining about how they missed when the two bickered all meetings instead of ditching meetings to sneak off together.

The new development had only lasted a matter of days, so I hadn’t figured out if it stemmed from a need for distraction given the impending situation or if the two had formed a more intimate relationship since Jude’s return to health.

The look of devastation on Jude’s face after Cardan transformed suggested that whatever their relationship entailed, Jude had begun to share feelings for him that went beyond hate or tolerance.

When Cardan snapped the blood crown, the air turned stale and the ground hardened. I couldn’t tear my eyes off of Cardan, as his body seemed to melt and twist into the monstrous snake.

The ground shook as the snake moved through the room headed straight for the sword maker. By the time Grimsen was swallowed, I was being pushed deeper into the castle by the flow of the crowd desperate to get to safety. I only got a glimpse of the horror on Jude’s face before she was completely out of sight.

By the time I finally saw her later, I saw the tear stains on her cheeks and the exhaustion behind her eyes. I wondered if she was mourning Cardan or perhaps she was coming to terms with her own future. If Cardan could not be saved, Jude would likely not last long on the throne. The lower courts might seize the chance or the undersea would. That is if our father didn’t dethrone her first.

For the first time in months, I thought I might be able to understand her again. Like me, her husband gave her a level of security that was uncommon for a human in Faerie. While Jude may try to say her motivations for marrying Cardan were different from me marrying Locke, I don’t think they were. They were both motivated by power and protection.

I married Locke for protection in Elfhame. My position as his wife also gave me a degree of power I never had before. Jude married Cardan to become High Queen. She could have become the most powerful knight alive and still not have been afforded the same level of protection she has as Cardan’s queen. While we may have had different expectations for our marriages, both were strategic.

Madoc taught us that it is harder to hold onto power than it is to gain it. It is even harder to hold on when it is just you. Together, she and Cardan had a chance at maintaining the throne, but alone the chances were slim.

I may have lost almost every privilege I had as Locke’s wife, but Jude had a lot more to lose without Cardan; including her life.

In his absence, the happiness that Jude showed disappeared entirely. When she wasn’t in meetings, she could be found in the destroyed throne room and truly seemed to mourn him.

I recognized some of her pain, though her situation was different of course. I knew what it was like to feel the suffocating sense of loneliness. After all, I had gone months without hearing from my sisters or my parents, all while stuck in a relationship that was on tilted ground from the start.

I knew the pain of losing a partner. Locke died by my hand, but it did not stop the mixed emotions that came after. In the instant I decided to act, I lost any promise of a safe future in Elfhame.

We both knew what it was like to be humans in Faerieland; powerless to watch as the monsters closed in from all sides. In a land where the food, wine, a dance, and a simple conversation could be disastrous, only she and I could truly understand the deep fear that every day brought.

When the day came to bridle the snake, my sister looked magnificent, powerful even. She looked every bit the part of High Queen. But behind her cold, fierce look, I noted the inner turmoil that plagued her.

No one had any ideas on how to save the High King. Therefore, her future came down to if she would decide to wield the snake as a weapon or not. With the serpent, Jude would have had a chance to hold her position on the throne. Without Cardan, she would likely lose everything.

If power was the only thing she wanted, it would have been a simple choice. Jude would have found the snake and ruled as the murderous queen that some fae refer to her as, for as long as she could. She hesitated though. After she dressed in Mab’s armor, she paced back and forth while she chewed her bottom lip, as she does when she is nervous or thinking. She didn’t know what she was going to do.

It was that morning that it became obvious that my sister had loved Cardan back. It was more than lust or a political arrangement. They both could claim their marriage had been strategic, and it might have started that way, but there was love between them. A love that kept her from using Cardan as a weapon.

They played their games and hurt one another, but when the other was in danger they shared the same look of desperate determination to save them. The look on Jude’s face was the same as Cardan’s when he came to Vivi’s apartment; desperate, sad, and determined.

____________________________________________________________

When Jude returned with a naked, bloody, Cardan I could not believe it. The impossible had happened.

Within a matter of hours, the palace managed to throw a feast in honor of the High King returning. I dressed quickly and made my way to join in the celebration with my siblings and Heather. Tatterfell told us that Jude would join us shortly.

At the height of the party, I spotted a familiar face trying to keep out of sight near the edge of the room. I left my spot near the musicians table and made my way towards him.

“Hello Garrett,” I said as I stopped next to him, taking in the room from his angle. Vivi, Heather, and Oak were still eating at one of the long tables. The crowd parted suddenly, so it was easy to spot Jude and Cardan as they made their way to the dancefloor.

“Taryn,” he replied with a smile.

Neither of us spoke for a moment as the kitchen servants brought out more desserts with a level of fanfare that matched the king that was being celebrated.

“Are you on king and queen duty this evening?” I asked with a nod to the direction of the dance floor.

Garrett shook his head and laughed, “Technically, I am always responsible for their safety, but I sense that the king and queen don’t wish to be followed.”

I looked back only to notice Cardan leading Jude behind the dais and out of sight.

“Then, perhaps you would like to dance?” The words slipped out before I could reason why it was a silly idea. Before I could regret my words, he offered a soft smile before extending his hand.

I let him sweep me onto the dance floor, trusting him to stop me before my feet wear out. I don’t know if it was the way his face lit up when he laughed, or because he is a member of my sister’s court of spies, or because I could command him at any time (not that I ever intend on using his name), but as we twirled and laughed together, I felt safe.

The feeling was a bit ridiculous. My future was still entirely unknown. I had a baby growing inside me, still needed to stand trial, and had no way to support myself.

Technically, both Garrett and I had committed crimes punishable by death, but at least for the evening, I was happy to share the space with him.

We stayed on the dance floor together until the sun streaked in through the windows.

____________________________________________________________

On the day of the tribunal, I could not help but tremble slightly. Cardan’s promise floated in my head, but I would never fully believe it until I was officially declared innocent. I could not believe that Jude would punish me too harshly. After all, she hated Locke for what he did, so I couldn’t imagine she was upset by my actions. At the same time, she also hated me for what I did, so it was hard to guess her thoughts.

I took my time getting ready until it was finally time to make my way to the throne room. I quietly entered and found my spot in the crowd before glancing up at the dais.

Together they sat. Two enemies who had somehow fallen in love. They had risen together through everything that had happened.

Jude made Cardan into a respectable king and Cardan made Jude queen so no one could overlook her power again.

Cardan invited me forward and in a clear voice, he granted me everything he promised. I was innocent and my child and I would inherit Locke’s titles.

I walked back to my seat and felt the weight of the last few months fall off of my shoulders.

With the ruling, I let myself imagine my future; something I had not done since the night I drove the letter opener plunge into Locke’s neck.

I had made regrettable choices in the past, but I had been given a fresh start.

I had hated the way my sisters had loving relationships, but now it was what I hope to find for myself.

I want a love that is more than security or protection or fun. I want to be with someone who encourages me to be more.

I am not in a rush to find love again. I have my child to raise, my relationships to repair, but if my sister’s love taught me anything, it is that love can happen in the most unlikely of places with the most unlikely of people.

#taryn pov #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #jude x cardan #cardan x jude #the folk of the air #tfota fanfic #jurdan fanfic #taryn duarte #the queen of nothing #the wicked king #the cruel prince #taryn and jude duarte #the duarte sisters #the cruel prince fanfiction #taryn x ghost

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hercleverboy · 4 years

Text

reassurance

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ after a heated argument on a case, the reader gets fatally injured in the field. spencer battles with the fact that he never got to apologise.

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ major character death, depression, refusing to eat.

word count ↠ 4.2k

“Maybe I’ll see you in another life, if this one wasn’t enough.” — Florence + the Machine

Spencer and Y/N rarely fought.

Of course they bickered from time to time about silly things that wouldn’t matter ten minutes later, but they rarely had a full-on argument. Screaming matches where they tried to wound one another with bitter words they didn’t really mean. They’d only ever fought like that once or twice, but ultimately they’d end with heartfelt apologies and kisses as they forgave one another and grew from their mistakes.

This particular argument however, was easily the worst they’d ever had.

It was the first big fight they’d had since they’d gotten married four months prior.

You know what they say about marriage; the first year is the hardest.

“I just don’t understand why we have to talk about this right now.” Spencer scowled as he walked into the empty room, his wife following hot on his heels.

Themselves and the team were had been sent to North Carolina on a triple homicide case in Charlotte. They’d been there for two days, and the newlyweds had carried an awkward tension with them ever since the case started. The couple had gotten into the start of an argument before they’d had to leave for the jet, which left what they new would be a bad fight brewing between them. Neither of them wanted to start the inevitable fight they knew they were going to have to have at some point. Y/N wanted to remain professional, to keep her emotions in check until her and Spencer got home and could fight talk everything out. She was succeeding, until she saw how snappy and cold Spencer was acting with her during the case, cutting her off mid-sentence and dropping sassy, unnecessary comments whenever she spoke. That only fuelled Y/N’s fire further. So when she managed to catch him alone she decided they had to have it out, even if it was in the middle of the case.

She closed the door to the room behind her as she watched Spencer busy himself with the three case files of the murder victims before him. She turned to him, her arms crossing in front of her. “Because I wanted to wait to have this fight until after the case finished, but you started up with the snappy attitude for no reason!”

“I’m busy, Y/N. Not right now.” He uttered, brushing her off. Again.

“Yes, right now. Every time I bring up the topic you shut me down and I’m tired of it! We have to talk about this, Spence. I’ve let you brush me off too many times now.” Her voice had lowered, she wasn’t shouting anymore but she was still stern.

Spencer scoffed. “You’re being ridiculous. I don’t brush you off.”

“You do! That’s exactly what you did before we left for the jet the other morning. Anytime I bring up starting a family you don’t want to hear about it. It’s a conversation we need to have.” She groaned. It was true, anytime since they’d gotten married that Y/N mentioned the idea of starting a family, Spencer blew her off. He’d completely shut down the conversation, refusing to speak about it with her. Y/N was growing frustrated. She didn’t want them to start immediately trying for a baby or anything, she just wanted to discuss her future with her husband, and he acted like she’d asked him to commit murder with her.

“Nope, we don’t need to have that conversation right now.” He murmured, his back still turned to her as his fingers scanned over the pages of writing in front of him.

“Do you not want kids with me, is that it?” She winced, the thought hurting her.

“Not if you’re gonna act like this.” He responded and it made her breath hitch. She knew he was pissed but surely he didn’t mean that?

“Spencer- I-I love you, I want to have kids with you. We don’t have to start trying yet, not for a long while but I just need to know that it’s in the cards for us.” She swallowed, walking closer to him, hoping he’d turn to face her.

“Maybe if you didn’t jump down my throat about all the time I’d be more willing to talk!” He spat, finally turning to face her.

“Are you seriously trying to pin this all on me? I just need some comfort. You do eventually want a family, right?” Her voice got even quieter, her tone pleading and her eyes glassy.

“God Y/N why are you in such a rush? We only just got married!” He yelled, exasperated as he threw his arms out in exaggeration. “I just need some time to think, okay?”

“How much time? A month? Two?” She challenged.

“That’s not a lot of time, Y/N.” He ran his hands through his hair frustratedly.

“I can’t wait around for years only for you to decide you don’t want kids, Spence. That’s not fair on me, I’d have to start over-”

Spencer frowned, interrupting her. “Wait- start over? You mean with someone else?” For the first time in the argument his harsh exterior softened, worry seeping into his honey coloured iris’.

Y/N was silent, her gaze lowering to the floor as tears began to tremble down her cheeks.

Spencer scoffed and shook his head. “This is stupid.” He muttered under his breath, as though Y/N couldn’t hear it clear as day.

She let out a small sob when she opened her mouth to speak. “All I’m asking for is some reassurance. I’m your wife, Spencer! Why can’t you just give me that?”

“I don’t want kids, okay?! is that what you want to hear? Can we drop this now?” He exclaimed, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth but at this time his anger outweighed his regret.

Y/N recoiled, her eyes casting down to look at the floor as her sight blurred, hot tears rolling down her pink cheeks.

Just then three knocks sounded on the door, a sheepish looking JJ opened it, poking her head in. “Uh- sorry to interrupt. Garcia found us a possible address, Hotch wants you two to go and check it out.”

Y/N sniffed and wiped the tears away from under her eyes. She grabbed her FBI jacket that hung on the back of one of the chairs before turning toward JJ. “No. I’d rather go with Morgan.” She muttered before walking out the door without a second glance at her husband.

“Y/N wait-” He tried calling out but she was already gone. He sighed, running his hands over his face.

“What was that about?” JJ asked quietly, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing.” He tried to lie but JJ gave him a look, one that said don’t bullshit me. “We had a fight, it was a pretty bad one. I said some things I didn’t mean.”

JJ placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay. When her and Morgan get back you can tell her you’re sorry. You’ll work it out, you love one another too much not to.”

Spencer nodded, glancing down to the thin gold band that sat on his ring finger. His mind drifted back to their wedding day, the happiest day of his life. He remembered how she’d taken his breath away when he saw her coming down the aisle, wearing a dress so beautiful and so her that it brought tears to his eyes.

She was ethereal.

and she was his.

It brought a small smile to his lips. JJ was right. As soon as she got back they’d finish up this case and then he’d spend all the time he had to making it up to her. He thanked JJ before they headed to join the others in the other room. The team, minus Y/N and Morgan, were gathered around overlooking their profile and all the details of the case, looking for anything they might of missed.

Hotch’s phone rang out and he answered, all of the team looking his way, hoping whoever was on the other end of the line would give them the information they needed to crack the case wide open. Spencer wasn’t concerned until he saw the shift in Hotch’s face, from his usual stern look to one of worry and concern.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked as soon as Hotch hung up the phone.

“That was Morgan calling from the hospital. He and Y/L/N found the unsub at the address. He had a gun, with which he shot Y/L/N twice with before he fled.”

JJ let out a gasp. “She’s okay though, right? I mean she would’ve been wearing her vest.”

Hotch spared a glance at Spencer who looked at him with eyes so wide it hurt him. He slowly shook his head. “One bullet hit the vest, the other hit her side. She’s in emergency surgery now.”

Spencer was up from his seat within seconds, rushing out of the building towards the SUV’s, the rest of the team following quickly.

Spencer rushed through the white hospital hallways with a heavy weight in his heart that he’d never felt before. He dashed around the corner, his eyes landing on Morgan in the waiting room, who sat with his head in his hands.

“Morgan? Where is she? She okay, right?” He begged his best friend to tell him something, anything good.

Morgan just shook his head. “I’m sorry kid, I don’t know anything. She’s still in surgery.”

Spencer felt sick.

They waited for hours without news, him worriedly pacing the waiting room. He was going through every possible outcome in his head, thinking of the worst case scenarios, making himself physically sick with worry.

Any time a member of the team attempted to talk to him, he snapped at them, telling them to leave him alone. He knew they were just trying to help, but he could apologise for that later. The only think that mattered at that moment was his wife. Eventually he’d worn himself out, his mind and body overwhelmed with all the emotions and visions of worst case scenarios. It took JJ grabbing his wrist and taking him to another private room for him to finally accept her help. He broke down as soon as she wrapped her arms around him, trying desperately to soothe the sobs coming from his mouth.

He pulled back, sucking in deep breaths as he attempted to calm himself down. “When we were fighting earlier I told her I didn’t want kids with her, but it’s not true- God JJ, having s family with her is all I think about.” He wept. “I’m just so scared that I’ll pass down some of my undesirable genes, I don’t want my kids to have to suffer.”

JJ just gave him a sad look, unsure what to say.

“What if I never get the chance to tell her I lied? I love her so much JJ- I-I can’t lose her. I want to have a family so badly with her, she means everything to me.” He crumpled into one of the chairs in the room as JJ watched helplessly.

After regaining his breath and wiping his eyes, the two rejoined the group in the waiting room. The team sent him sympathetic glances but Spencer didn’t acknowledge them.

It was around 4am that an exhausted looking doctor walked into the waiting room. Immediately Spencer was on his feet, pleading in his head that the doctor will tell him that she was fine, that his wife was awake and alive and was waiting to see him. She was strong, a fighter. She was going to be fine.

and then everything came crashing down.

“I’m so sorry, Mr Reid.”

His knees buckled beneath him as he collapsed to the floor, heartbreaking sobs leaving his mouth as the doctor left the room, closing the door behind him.

Spencer could hear the other teams whimpers but he blocked them out.

He couldn’t feel anything but the sharp stabbing pain in his chest that made his whole body throb with a pain so unimaginable he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.

He barely registered how Derek’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him to his feet as his friend cried into his shoulder.

“I didn’t tell her I loved her before she left.” He bawled, and the sight broke the teams hearts.

“She knew, Reid. She knew.” Derek tried to soothe him but it was a fruitless attempt, as his heart-wrenching cries only intensified.

Two weeks later and the pain was still as fresh as it had been that day. Spencer’s body ached all over, his heart felt heavy in his chest.

He’d slept on the couch for weeks, refusing to sleep in their bed without her.

It felt wrong.

After shutting everyone out for two weeks and barely eating, showering or sleeping, he finally allowed JJ into his apartment. They didn’t speak, but he would sit on his sofa, staring blankly at the wall while JJ tried to get him to eat and encouraged him to shower. He wouldn’t respond, no matter how much his stomach rumbled with hunger, he wouldn’t eat. JJ tried her best, and she knew he was grateful, but he was so deep in his heartache and depression that he couldn’t do anything. She would tidy up sometimes and did laundry for him, encouraging him to change out of the same clothes he’d worn for weeks.

He heard JJ humming to herself quietly as she walked through the living room toward the kitchen, laundry basket in her hands. He normally wouldn’t have paid notice, but an item of clothing on top of the pile caught his eye. It was a bright mustard yellow cardigan.

Specifically, it was Y/N’s mustard yellow cardigan.

Spencer recalled how she loved the bright colour, having many items in her wardrobe of similar colour. She insisted it was for her ‘autumn style’, whatever that meant. Whenever she told him that he’d simply smile at her, his eyes so full of love and happiness. She would always grin back at him in response.

What he’d give to see that smile again.

“Wait.” He called out, his voice thick and raspy after weeks of not using it. “You can’t wash that.”

JJ looked over in surprise. He hadn’t spoken to her at all any of the other times she’d been over to help him.

Spencer got up and walked over, taking the cardigan from the top of JJ’s pile. He brought the item up to his face, inhaling deeply, a sob getting caught in his throat at the realisation that it still smelled like her, the scent of her perfume clinging to the fabric.

JJ’s eyes widened with the realisation that the cardigan belonged to Y/N. She’d just picked it up from where it had been on the floor in the bedroom, figuring it belonged to Spencer. She was about to apologise profusely for touching it when he spoke again.

“I miss her so much, JJ.” He cried, his voice cracking as she placed the basket down on the floor.

“Can I hug you?” She asked, unsure if he wanted to be touched at that moment.

He nodded, and was filled with a sort of relief when JJ’s arms wrapped around him. It was the first human contact he’d had in weeks. He welcomed the warmth. (He’d felt so cold lately.)

Later that night he’d sobbed himself into an uneasy sleep, clutching the cardigan to his chest, inhaling the scent of her perfume as if he could convince himself that she was still there.

When he woke the next day he saw the sunlight peeking in through the curtains that he hadn’t opened in weeks. He blinked, and noticed how his fists still clutched handfuls of the yellow cardigan. His memory flashed, and he recalled how she looked in the mornings- like a goddess. He could almost hear her melodic laugh, as though she were right next to him. He closed his eyes, hoping he’d wake up and it’d be real, that she’d be next to him and everything would be okay. This horrific nightmare would be just that- a bad dream, after which she’d soothe him with hushed reassurances and soft kisses to his forehead.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping and praying that when he opened them she’d be there in his arms, where she was meant to be.

He opened his eyes slowly, only to be met with what he feared, an empty space beside him.

Spencer really thought he couldn’t cry anymore, that he was all out of tears, but as he felt the familiar feeling rise in his chest, his breaths picked as a small sob broke from his lips.

He didn’t leave the sofa that day.

He was sat with his back against one of his walls, his knees pulled up to his chest. His phone buzzed from the table across the room. The team called and texted him regularly, but he never responded. Though no one called him more than Derek Morgan, worried sick for his closest friend.

Spencer waited for the buzzing to stop, the familiar tone ringing out that signalled he’s been left a voicemail. Something inside him possessed him to stand up, grabbing his phone and tapping the buttons to hear the voicemail.

“Hey Reid. Its Morgan, I-uh.” His voice cracked. Morgan was never a particularly emotional man, but he still remembered that day Y/N died clearly, and was consumed by guilt. He blamed himself, Spencer could hear it in his voice.

Morgan swore under his breath as he placed his hands against her side, desperately trying to slow the blood pouring from the wound.

“Morgan.” She grunted. “The unsub- you have to go after him.” She clenched her teeth together at the searing pain in her side, a burning feeling like nothing she’d ever felt before.

“No, Y/N. I won’t leave you here. Not only are you Spencer’s wife but you are my friend and I’m gonna stay with you, okay?” He promised, meeting her tear filled eyes as she nodded. “The ambulance is gonna be here any second, just gotta hold on for me yeah?”

Y/N nodded and fought desperately to keep herself awake but could feel herself slipping away with every second that passed. She shook her head from side to side, hopelessly trying to force herself to stay awake, fighting to keep her eyes open.

“Y/N? Y/N! Come on, baby. You gotta stay awake. What about Spencer, hm? Talk to me about him.” Morgan was just trying to get her talking in hopes that she’d stay awake long enough for the ambulance to arrive.

“He said he doesn’t want kids with me.” She mumbled, giving a weak smile. “We- We argued about it earlier, but I’m not mad at him. Morgan, he has to know I forgive him-” She coughed, blood spilling from her lips as she winced. She looked up at Morgan. “Y-You have to tell him. Tell him that i-it’s okay. Tell him I love him, that I-” She let out another cry in agony as he pushed harder down on her wound.

“Listen, listen. You hear the sirens? They’re close. You just gotta stay awake for a little while longer. Then you can tell pretty boy all of this yourself, okay?” Derek looked around as he heard the sound getting closer, relief breaking out across his face when the ambulance rounded the corner, coming into view. He looked down to Y/N to reassure her, but noticed how her body had gone limp beneath him. “Y/N?” His eyes were wide as he moved a hand to shake her shoulder, getting no response. “Y/N please-”

“I just need you to know, if you’re listening, how sorry I am. Y/N she- she told me, before the ambulance came-” Derek paused and Spencer’s breath hitched. “She wanted me to tell you she loved you. That she forgave you.” Derek cleared his throat, evidently trying to keep up his ‘tough guy’ act for the sake of his friend. “I just- needed you to know that. Call me when you’re ready.” The loud beep sounded out after the message finished and Spencer just stood, frozen.

His wife’s last words were that she loved him, that she forgave him.

It didn’t make him feel any better.

JJ was washing up plates in his kitchen after pretty much forcing him to eat some soup. He only had about four spoonful’s, which was disappointing but it was progress, and she figured it was better than nothing.

It had been a month since Y/N died, and nothing was getting better for Spencer. Everyday felt worse and worse, the pain never got lighter like people said it would, it never got any easier to deal with.

He sat on the sofa with a book perched on his lap, though he made no attempt to read it. He’d loved to read before, but now he couldn’t look at any of his books without thinking of how he used to read them to Y/N when she couldn’t sleep. He found that everywhere he looked in the home, he was reminded of her.

After drying the plate and putting it away, JJ turned to look at her friend who sat staring at the wall blankly.

She spoke although she knew she likely wouldn’t receive a response, she didn’t mind. He needed human interaction of some sort. “I’ve been talking to the others and- we think maybe it would be useful for you to speak to someone. Anyone, Spence. You can’t keep living like this. It’s killing you.” She murmured, her voice pleading. He shifted his gaze to look at her, but said nothing. “If you don’t want to talk to someone, how about you try writing letters? It’s something they had me do when Roslyn died. I used to burn them afterwards too, I found it therapeutic. It helped, even if just a little bit.” She tried, hoping he’d at least consider the idea.

After JJ left Spencer thought about what she’d said. At first he’d thought it was a stupid idea, pathetic, really. Writing letters weren’t going to bring his wife back.

but then again, nothing would.

He found himself sat at his desk, pen and paper in front of him. It took him hours to figure out what he wanted to say. At first he couldn’t even decide how to address the letter, was just her name good enough? He wrote and rewrote the letter a hundred times, trying to get everything right. Eventually he realised that there was no way to get it ‘right’, he just had to write how he felt.

‘Y/N,

JJ reckons that this will help aid my grief, and I can see how much my state is scaring her, so I figured I’d give this a shot.

Its been two months since you left.

Since you left the world, since you left me.

I know it wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you, not for anything. I blame myself more than anyone else. If I’d just told you the truth rather than trying to be difficult, maybe you’d still be here. Maybe if I had just given you the reassurance you were looking for, It would’ve been me who’d come with you to the address.

I would’ve protected you.

Because that was my job, you know. To protect you. And I failed.

I miss you.

I miss how we’d stay up watching crappy reality TV shows on nights where neither of us could sleep after a case. I miss the nights you’d let me read to you, your head on my lap as you slowly drifted to sleep. I miss making breakfast with you early on a Sunday morning, on the rare occasion we got the weekend to ourselves without any interruptions from work. I miss dancing with you in our living room to whatever music you played. I never cared what song it was, only that it was you that I was dancing with.

You were my favourite song.

I hope you know how sorry I am.

I’m sorry that I’ll never get to tell you how I lied to you that day in the police station. That I’ve never regretted any words more than I do those ones. I wish I could tell you how badly I want a family with you. How nothing would make me happier than seeing little versions of ourselves that we created, that we could raise together.

I don’t think the stabbing pain I feel in my chest when I think of you will ever cease. I’ll carry the guilt of my words for the rest of my life.

Penelope says it will get better someday. But I can’t imagine a day where I wake up without you and don’t feel empty.

I love you. So much.

Forever yours,

Spencer. ‘

He clicked his lighter three times before the flame appeared. Taking a deep breath, he hovered it to the edge of the letter, watching it catch alight and begin to burn. As he watched the flames flicker in front of him, he wondered if he’d ever know peace.

If he’d ever be able to breathe again without her by his side.

He’d have to learn to live without her.

An impossible task.

#spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #mgg #criminal minds

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thedeviljudges · 3 years

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Do you think Yohan always planned to fake his death and join Elijah in Switzerland, or did he originally intend to really die with the rest of the 'villains'? Part of me thinks that would fit with his pre-Gaon conception of himself, as a monster, not deserving of love, not necessarily seeing a role for himself in Elijah's life beyond getting revenge for her/Isaac, and financing an opportunity to help her recovery. Or do you think regardless of that, he'd still never plan to leave her on her own?

i didn't mean to put off this ask for so long. i was busy, but i also wanted to wrap my thoughts around this before i tried answering. not bc i didn't have an answer to begin with but yohan and death is a subject i'd like to approach, but i'm not entirely sure how i'd like to make the analysis of it, and i'm not sure i ever will.

so that leaves me to answer it here in the best way i can because point blank: i do believe yohan intended to die by the end. i do think he had two plans in place since the beginning (dying or not dying and helping elijah), but of course, until that final moment, he wasn't ever going to know the truth. that end scene of him blowing up the court was a 50/50 shot. he had a plan to make it out, but it wasn't a guarantee.

but lets also back up a bit because before we get to that point, i think it's necessary to point out that the reason yohan gets away and does all of the shit that he does is because he knows that he might not make it out alive. it's why he's reckless. it's why he bends the law the way that he does. yohan's actions prove, over and over again, that he does not care for himself. he does not care to live except to protect elijah. there are so many small moments of this. we call yohan unhinged out of fun, but i think there is truth in it because i've mentioned this casually before (and part of my words above in terms of not necessarily knowing how to approach this just yet) is that yohan is almost...... suicidal himself.

he's reckless. he's said that he does not care about the actual law. his goal has always been getting revenge for his brother, especially for his niece who grew up without her parents. yohan never truly cared about the bigger picture until gaon came along. if we leave out gaon and think of the plot as such, yohan would've been able to prevail much quicker, i'd say. he had a plan and was going to follow through with it no matter what, regardless of the ending. and he knew going into it that there was a chance he wouldn't make it out alive.

which is why i think he partially also allowed elijah to blame him for her parent's death because if she hates him, it will be so much easier for her to forget him. she won't mourn him or miss him. she will be able to move on with her life and live it any which way she wants. but because yohan doesn't really understand kids, let alone elijah, what he fails to realize is that elijah doesn't actually hate her uncle. she's looking to get rid of all of the pent up hurt and frustration bc she never had an outlet to let all of that out. yohan fails to see that elijah cares for him and would miss him, to a degree, if he died.

so now, if we think of the plot with gaon, it twists everything on its head bc gaon has no need to be there within yohan's plans. yohan doesn't need gaon to do anything bc everything was already planned from the beginning. if anything, gaon came in and crashed some things, leaving yohan to pick up those pieces and continue pushing forward. biggest case in point, gaon's stubbornness and his arguments against yohan with the law and what he's doing.

see, gaon eventually comes to realize yohan's reasonings for doing what he's doing for his brother, but i feel like gaon thinks that even if that is part of yohan's plan involves revenge, how much does he think yohan is also doing this for the greater good and wanting to fix society? we know that yohan has no intention of that, but does gaon? and so no wonder gaon protests because if he thinks yohan is trying to fix a broken system (plus get revenge all in the same plot), no wonder gaon continues fighting yohan - he's under the belief that yohan is trying to make things better. but he's NOT.

which circles back to the idea that yohan had every intention of either making it out alive or dying. gaon opened his eyes that yes, maybe things could possibly be good. gaon made yohan question a lot of things along the way, especially his own humanness and realizing that he is worth something and not the monster he let himself believe he was, and what others told him he was. that wasn't part of the plan either, which is why it made it so much harder for yohan to go through with bombing the court because yohan's at a conflicting place of finally understanding gaon's hope but knowing that he only ever had revenge as an intent.

yohan's plan is derailed a bit by gaon being hope and introducing concepts yohan has lived without for so long. before then, yohan lived isolated with one clear goal in mind until gaon showed him he had a reason to live. i also said in another post that while gaon stopped yohan because he didn't want to see yohan going down a path he couldn't come back from, it was already too late at that point. yohan had already set his path long before gaon came into the picture and nothing he said or done would've changed that. but it DID given yohan more perspective and more heart, possibly being at peace even more so with dying knowing elijah would have gaon.

but instances within the show - of course, his two fake deaths. him steering gaon and himself off the road on the middle of the highway. him chasing after the minister's son. yohan asking soohyun to save gaon despite him literally bleeding out.

yohan does not care for himself. he does not care whether he lives or dies, as long as his plan is completed. we can talk til we're blue in the face about how yohan was wrong manipulating the law like he did and various other things, but the reason why? is because he did not care. and it wasn't because of him being a sociopath by any means. it was because he numbed his emotions, lied to himself, and used his love for his brother and elijah to propel him to a desired end with the possibility of his death involved. and quite frankly, that speaks volumes about who he is and just how much he actually cares, how much he actually has emotions.

yohan, to love his niece so much he decided to manipulate the law, to serve his own agenda and purposes for an outcome that wouldn't actually give them that much peace, but would at least position the country in a way they could grow and give elijah a life where she wouldn't have to grow up into that kind of destruction. this is why yohan "leaves" gaon behind and why gaon is the hope of the show because in going along with his plans, yohan realized that if gaon wasn't going to follow him through til the end, if he was going to do everything in his power to stop yohan, then the biggest apology yohan could give gaon was the world - the entire judicial system to make things right, to do better. that was yohan's gift to gaon and his apology because yohan had no intention of making it better. but maybe gaon could with him gone.

i've seen a few comments about how if yohan was someone in irl, we'd all steer clear of him, well, there's a lot of characters out there like that, but i wouldn't stay away from him for the reasons everyone typically lists (like the choking and manipulation) because they think he's that way just bc. yohan's actions mimic those of someone who simply doesn't care because they're depressed and not because they're psychotic. there is a DIFFERENCE. like yes, are some of his actions shitty? and his gaon right to mistrust the things he does sometimes, also yes.

but understand that there is a difference in people's behaviors depending on the underlying mental health issues involved. i don't fully believe yohan had any intent to hurt elijah or gaon maliciously. it's part of yohan being oblivious and not recognizing his own actions mixed with the entirety of his plans to be followed through til the very end. we've seen how oblivious yohan can be (the classroom bird story is a classic example; they all thought he was the devil when in reality, this kid only hurt the bird because it was scaring the girl he sat next to. logically, that mean eliminating the threat. he didn't purposefully kill the bird and enjoy it. it was a practical response within his own personal world).

i feel like i'm missing parts of this discussion, which is why i said this was a difficult topic for me to approach just to get all of my thoughts about it out there. and long story short to answer your question: i think yohan intended to die (just like he had a plan in case went to jail, for example). that possibility couldn't have been ruled out. but i think he had the plan to escape with elijah so that she could get better. either way, whatever happened happened, even if he died. elijah would be taken care of regardless.

gaon throws a wrench in his plans just a little bit, makes him realize his emotional capacities but gaon's not enough to stop yohan from seeing his plans out until the very end, even if that means losing gaon, too, because even if gaon has shown yohan that he is worthy of love and family and affection, it is not enough to forgive everything he's done, and he needs to make right what was wrong. yohan's death in that courtroom, if it had happened, wouldn't be the thing everyone needed to forgive him for his actions but it would be a start in eliminating himself as part of the problem.

another thing to keep in mind, is that we know yohan is not a sociopath, even if that's what everyone wanted us to believe. everyone thought he made sunah jump out the window, but what he was actually doing was protecting isaac and his mother's necklace. sunah made the choice all on her own, set up yohan and framed him despite yohan reaching out time and time again. isaac didn't even understand what had happened and focused on the fact that this girl jumped because of yohan without listening to the truth of it. yohan has always been shown to be fiercely loyal to the people he loves. he's never directly done anything bad (at least as a kid) unless he was provoked.

what people need to understand about yohan as a character is INTENTIONS. and i hope i'm making myself clear on this. everyone thinks he's born a devil, but that has never been the case. yohan's actions just come from a place from blind revenge. if he never needed to get revenge in the first place, if isaac was alive and well, would yohan make these same decisions? would he still be this kind of person who needed to use these methods to work around the law? i don't think so.

i think i remember getting an ask awhile back about whether yohan would eventually turn into who he is now had isaac lived because we see him livid and upset during that flashback to one of his earlier court cases (where we find he's ripping the paper with the pen) and whether or not isaac's death just fast forwarded the process. i don't feel like trying to go dig that post out, and i can't remember what i said on it either, but i feel yohan would have his family as a moral compass to keep him in line, and he wouldn't have succumbed to his present-day tactics. i think he could've worked his way up into the system and made real change. i think his heart could've been there all long, but again, was derailed by isaac's death and of course, plans changed.

this was a mouthful, and i hope what i'm saying makes sense because you can probably see what i mean about how difficult it is trying to organize my thoughts about this subject. but i am under the full belief that yohan had every intention of dying at the end or even before that. i think he's a depressed individual who learned to slowly open back up with gaon's help, but gaon is no doctor and no amount of his kindness would help someone that depressed either. it helped, certainly. but yohan saw himself as a monster/devil until the very end, and was more than willing to kill himself to make gaon and elijah's life so much easier. as penance. as justice. as love.

#x #the devil judge #the devil judge meta #this is a long one fjlaskdf oops #but YALL this is my last ask!!!!!!!!!! im finally caught up!!!!!!#holy shit thank you to anyone who has sent me asks the past 3 months while this show was airing too #i know ive been slow to answer but!! I DID IT!!!!!!!!#of course feel free to send more if you want but i feel so happy to have gotten to everyone #AND if you sent me an and you haven't seen it #it possibly didn't go through and i am so so so sorry #i haven't ignored anyone who has sent me anything so please send again if you want

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wonda-cat · 3 years

Text

Some Thoughts on Tommy’s most recent stream (4/29)

(For the record, this isn’t going to be like my other formal analyses. I’m genuinely just ranting here, possibly unedited too. I’m only referring to the characters, unless stated otherwise.

Also obvious warning, this will be fairly negative/critical of the DSMP’s writing, so scroll past if that might bother you. I tend to criticize the media I love, so this is just par for the course in my case.)

Let’s start off with—

The Things I Liked

All of the comedy at the beginning of the stream was wonderful. Ghostbur was incredibly endearing and entertaining as usual, as well as the moments between bench trio. Tommy’s change of plans made sense and the entire journey through the prison was tense and fun to watch. As well as the moment Tommy got caught (it was inevitable.)

It goes without stating, but cc!Wilbur and cc!Tommy’s acting was wonderful—they knocked it out of the park. I liked the little moments of Tommy calming Ghostbur down as Sam screamed at him. I also loved Wilbur's speech about his time in the afterlife when bench trio found him.

As well as the moment with Wilbur admiring the sky and calling it ‘his sunrise.’ I’m also glad that the afterlife was explained to be caused by the Revival Book’s existence and not some general eternal torture every character will be sentenced to regardless of anything they did in life.

But, sadly, that’s about where I stop and have to go into what I didn’t like as much, which is—

Everything Else

I’ll be talking about my major gripes with this particular stream in later bullet points down the line, but for now I’ll bring up the little things that annoyed me. This is all basically nit-picking and isn’t as awful or badly written as some of the others I’ll be discussing later.

First off, Why is Ranboo There? In the stream before this one, Tommy had Tubbo promise to not tell anyone else about their plan. Did he just decide to tell Ranboo anyway? Why? What was the point of asking him to keep it secret if it didn’t matter?

Adding to this, Tubbo and Ranboo were rather unnecessary for any of the other scenes that took place. They didn’t have any meaningful conversations with Tommy besides Ranboo asking why he was dreading Wilbur’s revival so much, as well as Wilbur’s comments to Tubbo about him being president. But other than that they have little to no notable speaking lines.

They don’t Do Anything? Sure, they’re nice to have present so Tommy can vent to someone else and find comfort but, in the end, Ranboo was oddly angry and accusatory with Tommy and Tubbo was practically absent from the scene. The impression I got from Tommy and Tubbo’s conversation in the previous stream implied that Tubbo would be serving a larger role as a distraction, but I guess they changed gears or something?

Then we have Ghostbur’s involvement, which, yeah, makes sense. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo are not allowed inside the prison, so it’s best to find someone else who can get in without suspicion. But my first assumption, upon seeing Ghostbur with the group was, “Oh, he’s gonna go in there and Dream’s gonna use him to revive Wilbur. That’s the only reason why Ghostbur is here and not anyone else, who would also be willing to kill Dream. It’s not like they’re in short supply right now.”

And I ended up being right, which only frustrated me more. I wanted something unexpected. Something new. Something interesting. Yet, I got the most predictable outcome instead—Tommy fails, Wilbur is revived.

Next, we have another big serving of ‘Tommy gets blamed for things he has no control over’ part 241. I am so, so sick of characters getting unreasonably mad at and blaming Tommy for anything and everything. It’s not new, it’s not interesting, it’s not fun. It’s just miserable.

It is,, awful. And it’s highkey frustrating. I refuse to sit through another arc of Tommy being endlessly hurt and blamed for stuff he didn’t do or cannot control. Pick a new event in the plot.

Try something out of left field. Do something, anything different to this. I’m begging you.

Now, we get into the major writing pitfalls and shortcomings. Starting with—

We Need to Talk About Sam

I have no idea what is going on with Sam’s character right now. It is so genuinely confusing. I have no clue why Sam reacted the way he did to Tommy because it just doesn’t make any sense. Sam’s entire inner conflict is about him trying to cultivate and protect his humanity and morality while upkeeping a strict, closed-off demeanor.

He follows the rules, even if it hurts the people he loves. Even if these codes force him into a position to be unethical. He feels it is his responsibility should anything go wrong or if Dream escapes, because it puts others in danger.

His strict approach got Tommy killed, and it also took a life and an arm from Ponk. Both of these people are precious to him. So why on earth would he threaten to kill Tommy when, in their last interaction, he was glad he was alive—after he promised to never let something like that happen again?

He respected Tommy’s wishes to stay away from him, and rather politely too. Why would he then threaten to kill him just after weeks of saying Tommy’s death was his biggest regret? That’s not even touching on Sam saying, “This is why I let you die,” as well as blaming Tommy for something that was directly a result of his own refusal to act.

Why didn’t he have Ghostbur also hitch a ride on the same platform with Tommy? Why did he even let Ghostbur into the prison in the first place if he:

A.) Told Ranboo he wasn’t going to let anyone in there after what happened to Tommy.

B.) Also wouldn’t let people in lest they find out about Quackity’s plan.

C.) Couldn’t even kill Ghostbur because he’s incorporeal and thus cannot fully upkeep the contracts he is signing.

There’s also the issue of Sam breaking the rules he abides by when he decided to not kill Tommy after he snuck into the prison, despite it being in the contract. Why is it different now? He went against his own protocol but was also following it by refusing to let Ghostbur come back to the other platform?

Why does Sam refuse to listen to Tommy? Their argument is mind-numbingly ridiculous. Sam refuses to hurt Dream, despite him only being alive because Sam claimed Tommy wanted him alive.

But now Tommy is there, begging Sam to let him kill Dream, and Sam just goes, “No. We’re not killing Dream.” Fucking why??? Sam! You said you wanted to kill Dream at least four times by now! Maybe more!

You were on your way to do it with Quackity and the only thing that stopped you was your promise to Tommy. But now Tommy’s here, telling you to kill Dream and you fucking won’t???? I am absolutely baffled.

No matter how you spin it, it makes no fucking sense. However, if I tried,,, I could possibly come up with a reason or two. Maybe Dream is blackmailing him. Maybe Quackity is forcing him to keep Dream alive until he can get the info he needs (even though,,, why would he trust Quackity over Tommy, who he’s outwardly stated he trusts just as much, if not more?)

It feels like these plots are dancing around each other, trying to keep up this faux sense of conflict that doesn’t exist. But, here’s the thing, contrived conflict is never compelling. I can’t overstate it enough.

Dream’s Plan is Complete Nonsense

The method to revive Wilbur makes Dream seem even more short-sighted than I remember commenting on, during the stream where Tommy was brought back to life. He told Tommy that his plan was to test the book to see if it worked (which, okay fine, I can buy this.) But then he says all along he was planning to revive Wilbur in order to break out of prison, which is ???? This is baffling if he needed Ghostbur in order to pull this off.

Which,,, I can’t even begin to explain how ridiculous it is that Dream’s entire plan hitched on not only the book working on people to begin with (which he tested on Tommy,,, for some reason, even though he would’ve lost his ‘favorite toy’ if he fucked it up. Which,, why even take that chance in the first place? there are other visitors he could’ve tried this with, surely. Like Sapnap and Bad,,) and it also relied on Ghostbur voluntarily going into the prison just to visit Dream?? And if he didn’t need Ghostbur after all, then why didn’t he bring Wilbur back weeks ago?

That’s not even getting into the issue of Dream assuming that Wilbur, once brought back, would:

A.) Want to be alive in the first place.

B.) Actually be willing to help Dream, instead of telling him to fuck off.

C.) Be even slightly capable of helping him at all when he has no allies, no PVP skill, no weapons, no armor, and no knowledge of the prison or its innerworkings.

Why are the current DSMP writers so committed to making me think Dream is a fucking idiot? I don’t enjoy this. I used to like his character and think he was smart. Stop.

ALSO, why did Tommy or Tubbo or Ranboo not think of the possibility that Ghostbur could very well be necessary to revive Wilbur? Why did that not cross any of their minds? It was the first thing I thought of when I saw him.

Another big thing that irks me is Tommy and Sam saying they saw Dream physically holding the Revival Book, which,,, how? Why? Dream said in previous streams that he burned the book and that was entirely the thing that kept him from being killed outright. If there was a book still in existence, did he hide it somehow?

How did Quackity not find it? Why did Sam not take it from him when he was first arrested?? What?

Also how the fuck did Dream kill a ghost?? They’re incorporeal? How does he not need the body to perform necromancy? That seems almost redundant.

Also it took a matter of seconds to perform? It took,,, ?? nothing but words and sheer willpower to bring someone back to life? Why does it seem so easy? My mans just,, uses his vibes to bring people back from the dead???

Unless the book has instructions regarding that or has a proportional price in order to use, then I’d be more forgiving. But I’m guessing it doesn’t have too steep a cost if Dream could offer Tommy immortality despite that. But I’m sure we’ll get more information on this once Quackity (inevitably) gets his hands on the book. Hopefully…

Which brings me to my last point—

Wilbur’s Revival (Derogatory)

Since the Revival Book was introduced, I have been actively dreading Wilbur being revived. It is the most predictable, low-hanging fruit of a plotline I could possibly conceive of. I understand that he’s a fan-favorite with a large audience (I love Wilbur more than you’d expect. cc!Wilbur is actually the reason I got into the DSMP in the first place), but there are other characters who could be developed more—utilized more.

Unpopular opinion, I know, but I am just so incredibly unenthused about this plot development. In fact, I’d almost go so far as to say hate it.

The Revival Book in and of itself is my least favorite thing the DSMP has ever introduced. It is a lack of consequences simplified. It’s also a lack of commitment to those mortal consequences.

It is a ‘get out of jail free’ card for when they kill off a character and don’t want to deal with the hole that character will leave behind. Or a way to work around the reason they shouldn’t kill Dream on the spot.

With Wilbur back again, I no longer feel compelled by his arc the way I used to. There is nothing to really leave a lasting impact anymore. Of course, there was a cater where L’Manburg once stood, but that was dug even deeper later on. You can’t make the death of a friend, of a loved one, worse than it is. It is death.

The thing I found extremely interesting about Wilbur’s death is the way the other characters portrayed loss. It has consistently been the thing that was most comforting to me, oddly enough. When people die, there will always be loose ends.

There will be holes left behind and things left unsaid. An unfulfilled promise. A forgotten relationship. A hollow memory.

What I always found compelling was the way Tommy and Fundy and Niki took this mutual loss and had to live with it. How they had to come to terms with the fact that Wilbur was gone and he wasn’t coming back. That they had to make peace with his memory, his legacy, and their connection to him.

That they’d miss him and love him or hate him and try to forget him. It is a tragedy that someone like Wilbur wanted to die for so long, and in the end, he did. Because in reality, the people you love will die.

There may be someone in your life that leaves you behind and all you’re left with is the broken pieces. And it is how these characters move on that brings me bittersweet company as someone who’s lost a lot of people. There is nothing more irritating than a story going back on its establishments—to have their cake and eat it too.

All I want is the bare minimum—a story with narrative stakes and consequences.

The only way I could ever see myself enjoying this plot development is if Wilbur has a redemption arc and attempts to make amends with Tommy, Fundy, Niki, and Eret. OR if he aids in Dream’s downfall in some way and enjoys the simple realities of life and wants to live for the sake of living. I’d find that at least new and somewhat interesting.

But if he’s just here to be a moustache toiling villain (or somehow worse than after his previous downward spiral), when the market is already so deeply oversaturated with antagonists, then I will probably drop the series altogether.

Hopefully it doesn’t come to that because I love the Dream SMP and I want to keep loving it for as long as I can.

I will hold onto more reasons to stay, so long as they keep giving them to me.

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ingek73 · 3 years

Text

Prince Harry Nails Why You Shouldn't Say 'You Need Help' To Someone Struggling

Here's how the remark can backfire, and what to say when addressing mental health instead.

Lindsay Holmes

05/13/2021 03:40pm EDT

Prince Harry has a knack for dropping eloquent mental health truths, and his interview this week on Dax Shepard’s “Armchair Expert” podcast is no exception.

In the episode, the two discussed their fear of sharing past traumas or mental health difficulties with others. Shepard said that he worried his peers would call him “attention-seeking” or tell him to “stop being a baby.”

Harry replied that the phrase “you need help,” which is often employed as a joke or insult, is another damaging reaction. That’s because it implies “I don’t know how to deal with this, you’re unhinged or you’re not particularly well ― go and seek help,” he explained.

“Rule No. 1 is that when you actually want or feel as though someone needs help, telling them to their face ‘you need help’ is probably the best way for them to go ‘uh no ― no I don’t,’” Harry said.

“Any single one of us ― wherever we are, wherever we come from ― will always try to find some way to be able to mask the actual feeling,” he continued. “That was a huge part of the beginning of my life. I rejected it, I said there was nothing wrong with me. I’m fine.”

He’s absolutely right. We’ve made progress as a society, but that doesn’t erase past decades of mental health stigma (which still persists in some ways). Telling someone they need mental health help has often been used in a derogatory way ― particularly when someone is being what others consider “problematic.”

Saying “you need help” turns a process that would actually be beneficial into the absolute last thing anyone would want to do. It implies that you’re beyond personal care and only a therapist can “fix” you.

In reality, people living with mental health conditions need both professional and social support. Research shows that loved ones play an integral role in our mental health: One study showed people with depression who have poor social support have worse symptoms and recovery. That same study suggested that people with anxiety disorders, bipolar disorder or schizophrenia may also have similar outcomes.

Another study found that social support is a significant protective factor against postpartum depression. Other evidence states that a lack of social support is associated with an increased likelihood of developing post-traumatic stress disorder following a traumatic event.

Now, of course, there are many cases in which a person might say “you need help” more seriously. It might be a well-intentioned or compassionate observation. That’s fine! Your concern is needed! But there are ways to make that statement sound more caring and less dismissive.

Below are a few options to try the next time you find yourself in this situation.

Ask an open-ended question that acknowledges mental health issues.

“My favorite way to get into these conversations is to lead with normalizing it and then get into open-ended questions,” said Jessica Gold, an assistant professor in the department of psychiatry at the Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis. “Like, ‘This pandemic has been really hard on me mentally, what has it been like for you?’ And see where the conversation goes.”

Say, “I noticed _____ and I wanted to check in.”

Gold said this isn’t necessarily her first option, but it is one method you can try.

“I always try to lead with non-accusatory statements where possible, trying really hard to say things that don’t point out something someone may see as a ‘fault,’” she said.

You don’t want to make them feel like they look bad, but rather compassionately bring up your concerns. For example, “I noticed you’ve been a little down and haven’t been playing piano much recently, so I wanted to check in.”

You can also ask them how they want you to check in.

Do they prefer a text every so often? What kind of questions actually help them open up? Would they rather you ask about symptoms or distract them from what’s going on for a little while?

“I think it is important to ask people how they want to be checked in with,” Gold said. For example, people who are well-meaning “often say things like ‘Are you eating?’ to the people with eating disorders or ask about symptoms of depression or anxiety. People understand why you are checking on them, but it is important to try to do it on their terms.”

Ask, “Would you like me to help you find a professional to speak to?”

Think someone genuinely needs help? Offer to search for someone with them.

“Help people navigate the mental health system. The mental health system is inherently broken, but it is also not designed to be very helpful for people with actual mental health disorders,” Gold said.

“For example, you have to call a bunch of therapists and see if they have openings, and maybe follow up,” Gold continued. “Depression decreases your motivation and activation energy and anxiety makes talking to people on the phone hard. It can help tremendously for friends and family to help get you where you need to go ― look up therapists, or hospitals if that is what they need, even manage the emails and communication initially. But, you should ask if they want help with it before you just do it, of course.”

Therapy isn’t a dirty word or something to be shamed, Gold stressed. “It doesn’t mean something is ‘wrong’ with me, it means I made a choice to support myself more, to make my life more balanced.”

And if you are making jokes or snide comments about someone’s mental health, know that it says way more about you than it does about them. Be kind and open when someone is vulnerable around you. No one is asking you to be perfect ― just asking you not to be a jerk.

#prince harry #duke of sussex #dax shepard #armchair expert #huffpost #mental health #⭐ mental health

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indiaalphawhiskey · 3 years

Note

I respectfully disagree with your last post (as an author). I’ve been in this fandom for 6 years and noticed it’s a little bit toxic when it comes to certain issues that should be normal and obvious to anyone.

I don’t get the “I choose the people I want to take criticism from” part. Ok, so why posting your work on a public page for independent writers where every subscriber will be able to read it and comment on it? Just send it to the people whose opinion matters to you and have a discussion about your work with them. If you post your work on a public page made specifically for independent writers, you are automatically posting it for everyone on that site. And every person has opinions on things and feels invited to express it if that particular thing is public and comments are open (I’m talking about respectful opinions, not slurs and offending someone).

If it was only for you and the people you actually want to get feedback from then wouldn’t it be easier to create an “élite” group where you read your work and then discuss it together? Because your post sends a very negative and exclusionary message to people that are reading your work for the first time or without knowing you as an author. It really seems like you are saying “dear readers, your opinion doesn’t matter to me so unless it’s positive I don’t want to hear it because this fanfic was written for me and this list of people.” Then don’t post it. But why making people feel excluded or bad because they did something normal just because they didn’t know it wasn’t written “for them” as you said in your post. And constructive criticism is just an opinion too as long as it doesn’t contain vulgarities, you don’t have to listen to it. Other’s opinion shouldn’t change the way you feel about your work but you also shouldn’t make them feel uncomfortable and bad for expressing it in a respectful way on a public page.

I know that authors on AO3 aren’t paid and that’s just for fun, but that’s what every page like AO3 is about: putting your work out there for other people to read with the possibility to express their personal opinion in a respectful way (I mean, you CAN disable the comments). Why making it public and then complaining and making other people feel bad for expressing their opinion on it? It’s not a diary or a personal Instagram profile.

So, first off, thank you for saying you respectfully disagree with me. I appreciate that you’re trying to be polite.

There are many different ways I can answer this ask, because there’s a lot to discuss here, however, I’m exhausted by this conversation and have tackled it many times before, so I’ll link things when I see fit and get straight to the point.

My question for you is this: What is the purpose of you posting negative (even though well-worded, polite, and tactful) unsolicited comments on a person’s fanfic? Why do you do it?

That’s not a rhetorical question, I really want you to think about the answer, because, for something to be called “constructive criticism” (which is specifically what we’re discussing here, versus the opposite “destructive” criticism) there has to be a point beyond just the fact that “it’s a public forum” and therefore, you feel entitled to express your opinion, whatever it may be. (That reasoning, btw, is called entitlement. No one said you weren’t allowed to have an opinion, but if you’re saying it to the author with no constructive, bettering purpose behind it, then at worst, your intent is to hurt them, which is just mean, no matter how politely you word it, and at best, you’re saying your opinions and preference take precedent over the author’s own.)

There are three reasons that I assume one can have when posting constructive criticism on work/art:

1. You want to help make them be a better writer, both now and in the future.

I, and other fellow authors, explain why this doesn’t work here and here, and there are more posts about it like this one, if you need to hear it from voices that are not from the Larry fandom (which I assume you do, since you said this is a little bit toxic here particularly.)

I encourage you to read all those posts, to get a better explanation in context, but the gist of them is this: for something to be truly constructive (synonym: helpful), the source, the timing, and the tact is key. Let me demonstrate: There is a difference between telling a friend while shopping, “I wouldn’t buy that dress, it’s not the most flattering on you,” and saying, while you’re out at a club, “Oh, that dress isn’t the most flattering on you, I wouldn’t wear it again.” -- Both are honest, worded politely, and both will achieve the same outcome: she will not wear the dress again -- but only one of them will cause undue stress, embarrassment, and self-consciousness (under the guise of being helpful), and that is all due to tact and timing. At the store, she can change into something else, and won’t assume you think she looks awful the entire day while you’re out. At the club, the damage is done, there is nothing she can do to change it, and you’ve just ruined her night.

The same goes for writing. I have seen people gracefully and willingly rewrite their entire first drafts based on astute and even harsh comments on their work, by their betas. I have never seen someone take down a fic and edit it based on a piece of constructive criticism given by a stranger on AO3. What I have seen based on that scenario, is people taking that criticism to heart and reflecting on whether or not they ever want to write again, because when they made themselves vulnerable, some people looked at it as an opportunity to ask for what would cater best to their own tastes, instead of appreciating the work as a true product of the author’s personal feelings and experiences. That results in less writers for the fandom, less content, and a whole lot of undue discouragement which is not something we want (nor is it actually constructive).

2. You want to engage the author in a deeper discussion of their work.

This is in direct answer to this part of your ask:

It really seems like you are saying “dear readers, your opinion doesn’t matter to me so unless it’s positive I don’t want to hear it because this fanfic was written for me and this list of people.”

You feel passionate (both positively and negatively) about my work? That’s lovely. I say, start a discussion with me. Ask me questions. Learn why I made those decisions. A discussion starts with an invitation to have a conversation (two ways, you say something, I say something, rinse repeat). It doesn’t start with “I didn’t like” or “This could have been better if”, and it certainly doesn’t start in a public forum, like the comments on AO3, where the writer runs the risk of looking like a defensive asshole.

But India, you say, what if I don’t have the means to have a private conversation/the writer doesn’t have tumblr/they’ve long since been inactive in the fandom? The answers are, respectively: leave a polite comment asking if they’re willing to discuss, if they are willing to discuss, leave a polite comment asking how to contact them, and if they’re no longer active, find other friends with which to discuss your feelings in private.

But India, that seems like so much work. It is, flat out. But if you really felt that strongly about something I wrote, you would make that effort to understand it. Otherwise, why not just walk away?

3. You don’t know better.

I found this part of your ask extremely interesting:

“But why making people feel excluded or bad because they did something normal just because they didn’t know it wasn’t written “for them” as you said in your post.”

The reason I found it interesting is because it means that there are people who assume that all work that is public was made for them, to suit their tastes, which is, frankly, a bizarre way to consume art. I do not go into The Louvre, look at the Mona Lisa and say “I don’t see the hype, it’s not something I would hang in my living room.” I look at it and think “What does this piece say about Da Vinci and his life? What has this brought to the world? How has this helped people/art/culture?”

(No, I am in no way comparing my talents to Da Vinci, I am not delusional. But, I don’t think my work deserves any less thought than that of a professional artist, simply because I’m an amateur and it’s on the internet and not in a gallery, and you have the superpower of anonymity.) You asked me what the point was in posting my work publicly if I didn’t want to hear every single person’s personal (negative) take on it, and the answer is this: I post what I write publicly, because I hope it helps someone. I hope my thoughts, feelings, experiences, loneliness validate someone, entertain them, help them through a tough time, bring them comfort. I post because I want to invite people to lose themselves alongside me, heal alongside me, dream alongside me.

(Notice how I said “someone” and not “everyone”. How I said “someone” and not “an élite group that discusses my work”, because yes, I do hope that my work positively impacts someone outside of my betas, my friend group. Does that mean someone can leave negative comments on my work? Yes. But should they? That’s a different question.)

I know my work won’t be a positive experience for every single person, but my goal was never to be relevant to every single person. So, my question is, if I’m not relevant to you personally -- if my work doesn’t touch you personally, heal you personally, entertain you personally, why not just walk away and find something that does? Who does your negative opinion really help? How is it constructive? What is its purpose? Why do you do it?

I will apologize for this, though: I spoke on behalf of all writers, and maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have been clear that though many writers feel this way, not all do. There are some, such as, I assume, yourself, who do view negative comments on AO3 as constructive, whether or not they are solicited, and I’m sorry to have spoken on behalf of you. However, I do still stand by this, though: it is much better to be kind than be right, and that definitely goes for comments on fic.

#concrit #writing thoughts #constructive criticism #iaw ask #iaw anonymous #iaw opinion #long post

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a-smile-hides · 4 years

Text

WARPAINT - I.R.

WARNINGS: long fic, description of battles, blood, wounds, death, some time jumps, I had a bit of a block during this …

This was actually requested, so thank you for that! Sorry for the wait. I kind of got carried away with this. My first draft was not so long, but then I realised I kind of wanted a stronger reader and now… well this happened. Hope you enjoy!! xxx

The request: Hello! I wasn't sure if requests were open or not, but I had this idea were the reader is not a shield maiden and prefers doing other things, and shes not exactly that well-built. Maybe there's an attack on kattagat and she's one of the people who were taken? But she fights her way out and goes back to kattagat when ivar was planning a rescue mission (nobody thinks she could fight) but she can because of some reason in the past and she was forced to? I'm literally just throwing ideas.

---

“Correct me if I am wrong, but the Christians that you just defeated have invited you and your brothers – and only you three – to come to their palace to talk about peace?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelieve. “You honestly can’t believe that Ivar.”

Ivar sighed. His back was turned towards you as he tightened the straps of his gloves.

“Ivar… Do you?”

Ivar threw his head back, looking up to the sky above him. The sky was bright blue. A couple of birds flew over, following the largest one in their group to their next adventure. Behind him a couple of men sat together whispering and pointing at the exchange in front of them, wondering aloud what or who made you qualified to step up and talk to one of their leaders. “Of course not. It is not me who has turned into a fool.”

His words made you bite your lip. Merely a few hours after the army had returned victorious, a petit man dressed in beautiful red robes decorated with golden leaves had fearfully entered the camp. Stuttering and barely looking into anyone’s eyes, the man proclaimed his lord acknowledged their triumph and had asked the three leaders to come to the castle at sunset. In that way they could discuss the outcome of this victory. This lord, the prince of this dying land, clearly did not want to lose any time.

Ubbe, wanting to take this opportunity of peace, had immediately accepted the offer to which the messenger nodded and ran away, looking like a dog with its tail between his legs. Ivar had been furious and confused by his brother’s naïve decision. But he could not ignore the fact that a part of him was curious to what this prince wanted to offer in exchange for “peace”. This soil was rich, and he knew this land held unknown treasures. Its only flaw was the leadership. And so, he wanted to follow his brothers to this castle. Yet, he knew how foolish they would be if they did not bring their most trusted warriors to the castle.

“You are going no matter what I say?” The question came out as a statement. You didn’t need any answer. The silence that followed and the slight second his movements halted were enough. Slowly, he turned around. A sly grin concealed the doubts he had.

“Do I suspect some concern?”

You licked your lips, shifting your weight to one leg. “I am only worried about my place in this camp. You know they don’t like me here, Ivar. Without you, they might come up with something to get rid of me.” You said laughing airily, your head subtlety nodding in the direction of the men behind you whose eyes were still locked on you two. And although you said it with a small grin, your words held a certain truth. And he knew it too.

Ivar nodded his head. “I would like to see them try.” He whispered, narrowing his eyes.

You could hold back you laugh. Ivar pressed his lips together at the sound, hiding his smile as he watched you. And then, the mood changed. That airy, light feeling disappeared. Everything became serious, while the two of you just stared at each other.

“Be careful?” You asked him again. Your voice was small, barely audible.

Ivar looked up at you and extended his hand, mentioning you to come closer. In a few steps you stood in front of him, patiently waiting for his answer. Tenderly, he grabbed your hand. His thumb brushed over your skin, while his other hand followed the curve of your hip. His brilliant blue eyes stared right up at you. The corners of his mouth slightly curled upwards.

Ivar breathed in deeply, leading your hand to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed his lips on your hand.

With that you got his silent promise.

***

A fire crackled in the background as the sun began her descent. The dry ground felt cool against your feet. The birds chirped loudly as they flew over the camp. From behind you, you heard someone howl as his friend emptied his cup in one big gulp. The music that was played by some of Sigurd friends amused the crowd. And slowly but surely more and more people joined the drinking game going on around the fire.

The mood was light and happy. Every last man or woman that decided to come along this raid was cheerful because of the recent victory on those pathetic Christians. Ivar had used his tactics and bright mind to conceive a master plan. Ubbe had led them forward with his skills as a warrior and Hvitserk gave the men the support they needed in the middle of the fight. The army, for once, was not big in numbers, but with those three it hardly was necessary.

No one knew who came up with the idea to organize this raid. But not a single soul cared. Since Ragnar’s disappearance, those voyages had been put to a halt and many men and women longed for this opportunity. An opportunity to raid and find treasures and make their families proud. An opportunity to get access to Valhalla.

Now that the three brothers had left to negotiate, the camp had decided to feast. No one was worried for their safety. Even if they had been gone for longer than the few hours they anticipated. The road to the battlefield had been long and tiring. Who knew how far this castle lay?

A fine grin formed on your lips as the sounds filled your ears. With your back turned towards them all as you let your body sway to the rhythm of the music. With both hands you lifted your skirt up, keeping it out of the dust’s range you kicked up as your movements got bigger. The music swelled up and you closed your eyes.

Your mind had been clouded by worries and possible disastrous outcomes for the sons of Ragnar, but now for the very first time since they left, you could let go of those dark thoughts.

Getting lost in the story the tune told you, you did not notice the girl that joined your side. She had come along this raid with her mother, a gifted healer. It was clear she had inherited this knowledge, and therefore wished to accompany her mother on this voyage. Her big eyes were focused on you as she tried her best to imitate your moves. Many times, she almost tripped over her own feet.

With your eyes closed, you kept twirling and dancing to the music. Lost to the world around you and the crowd that watched with amused eyes to the show going on in front of them. Some men catcalled while others were completely obvious to the dance. As the music slowed down, you took a moment to catch your breath. Only now you noticed the people that had their gaze pointed at you.

“Is it true?”

The high voice of the young girl next to you made you snap out of your daze, looking at her with your eyebrow raised.

The young girl grinned; her eyes glimmered with mischief. “Is it true you dance for the brothers like this every evening? They say you do it for Ivar whenever he demands it.”

Her innocent question made you snort; her innocence could not stop the irritation from building up inside of you. It was not the first time someone had asked you this.

Unlike other children, who helped their parents in their line of work, you often hung around the brothers. Acting as a shadow and sneaking up on them. This continued until you came of age, and Hvitserk saw you disappear into the woods with your father. He dragged a heavy cart with him, knives, axes and ropes thrown into it, while you carried a large basket with food in it. At first it did not worry him, but when you did not return for five days, questions arose amongst the brothers. When the day of your return arrived, the men were confused, but happy to see you. Only Ivar had been reluctant, focussing more on the scars and bruises that covered your body. It was only after you had shaken your head at him and asked Sigurd to play your favourite song once again that he warmed up, trying his best to hide his smile as you danced to the music his brother played.

Many wondered why you always danced until your feet got raw. Swaying your hips and twirling around in circles until the sun set in the evening. Many thought it was the effect of plants that you were not supposed to eat or the consequence of your mysterious disappearing in the woods. You learned fast that everything that was not done by most people, was considered odd.

This could be the reason why the youngest prince let you walk beside him. He too was considered as someone odd, someone unusual. Although you were not a shieldmaiden, nor a woman with a famous background, a connection was shared.

Ivar often said to be irritated by your presence and loudly proclaimed that when he was around his brothers. He would hide his smile, only giving it when he knew no one else was around. Sometimes he would utter out a sneaky comment as you passed them, making Hvitserk snicker and Sigurd roll his eyes. Yet never would he allow another to say those out loud. The ones who dared to mock you in his presence usually ended up with a nasty cut on their forehead.

“Y/N, you’re ignoring my question.” The healer’s daughter sang out.

This time you laughed out heartily. “People believe what they want to believe. I must say that I don’t know wh-“

Your voice died as you looked to your left, where the road lay on which Ivar, Ubbe and Hvitserk had departed. Appearing at the horizon was a horse, soon followed by four others. Their riders hitting the animals to make them run faster. Squinting your eyes at the moving figures, you saw how each of them seemed to be shouting, one even raising their sword high in the air. The metal reflected some of the sunlight and made turn your head. The sight only made your heart miss a beat. Behind you, although hard to see due to the evening sun, you could make out the silhouettes of the men that slowly stepped out of the woods.

The girl beside you noticed your worried gaze and followed it to the tree line. Her cheeky smile disappeared immediately once she too noticed the men storming at your camp. All of them carrying various weapons.

The young girl screamed out, making the musicians stop playing and everyone look up. Frightened the girl ran in the direction of her mother’s tent, while you shouted out at the top of your lungs.

“Ambush!”

***

“Does he really think he can bribe us with a bit of land, now?”

Ivar’s soft but menacing words made every Christian man in the large palace room look up alarmed. They did not know what he was saying, because suddenly he had changed to his own language, but his tone had changed drastically. During this whole ordeal, the young man had not spoken much. Only asking a couple of questions on a light and airy tone. Now it seemed as if his patience had reached its end.

“Do not forget that we are in another country, Ivar”

“Ubbe, this kingdom is dying. You are the one forgetting we destroyed them on the battlefield. We should just raid and move on. Maybe we can send word to our home. To little Sigurd. He could stand in as our man here?” He grinned, “Then at least he does something useful.”

Hvitserk lowered his head as Ubbe sighed out.

The prince coughed, snapping the men out of their argument. This man, the only living member of the royal family, had been sitting on his throne uncomfortably ever since the Viking brothers had arrived. He had invited them over in hopes of finding a truce. Some form of agreement so that he and every last resident in his land could come out of this alive. But so far, none of his offers had pleased all the brothers.

“We could take the land, Ivar. The best that is out there. We can demand it from him.” Hvitserk urged, a wide grin on his face. Ubbe nodded at him, patting him on the back. The prince grinned at the interaction.

Ivar rolled his eyes. Something did not feel right. The land was theirs to take. This prince knew it too. He did not get why his brothers suddenly became too soft to continue.

Ivar’s suspicion only grew when a slim man dressed in the same red and golden robes as the messenger that directed them here entered the room. His gaze was only pointed at his lord, trying his best to avoid the heathens that he feared. Bowing for a second, the man stepped forward. He opened his mouth, but then closed it as he finally locked eyes with the three men sitting in front of him. Those heathens knew his language. Leaning forward, he quickly whispered something in the prince’s ear which made him sit up straight. The prince nodded his head at his messenger, thanking him and letting him leave.

For the first time, he stepped off his throne and walked towards the three brothers. He took a moment, nodding to himself as if he were encouraging himself to continue. “Good news, my informant just told me the council has agreed to come together and talk about this arrangement.” The prince stretched his arms out wide, a hopeful smile on his face. Ubbe and Hvitserk nodded their head at him, while Ivar looked away. “This all on the condition that you spare the people and myself and do not attempt another attack on my kingdom.”

***

Blood covered the dusty ground as the large group of men fought their way through the camp. Each of them entering the tents to drag the ones that tried to hide in them outside, claiming their most valuable belongings as their own. Laughing wickedly, each of them left the tent ravished behind them, setting them on fire once all the goods had been taken out of it. Women thrashed around in their holds as men of different ages fought bravely against the marching forces.

It became clear very early that this was a planned attack. A strategical set in a game of vengeance. The clearing had been chosen carefully by the three brothers. It was large enough so anyone who had joined this raiding party could place their tent where they wanted to. It provided a good view on any upcoming forces. And enough scouts were present in the forest, carefully placed there to warn everyone if an attack may happen.

And yet, no signal was sent. Those Christian men snuck up on the camp as if someone had opened the door for them.

As you hid in the tent, you watched with sorrowful eyes how the girl that admired you earlier sat beside her mother. Her little body shook in fear, while tears kept rolling over her rosy cheeks. In the chaos of the attack, you had pulled them with you inside a tent. Your hideout was fragile. Nothing more than a piece of cloth. But at least it was something. A place to think of a better plan.

Two shieldmaidens had followed you inside. One tried her best to look outside, while the other tried to mend her broken bow.

Outside, the screams of anguish and the shouts of war became less prominent, making you think the Christian forces were retreating or at least, that the fight was ending. The shieldmaiden at the opening of the tent seemed to share your thoughts, lifting her hand in a silent demand for the girl to calm down.

Her brows were furrowed as she slowly pushed away the material that closed your hideout. Her eyes scanned the area, but seemed not to find any enemy.

“I can’t see anyone. We cannot stay here. The girl will betray us with her cries.” She whispered out. Her eyes going from her fellow shieldmaiden to the mother.

“She is a child!” The woman whisper-shouted, pressing her whimpering daughter against her chest.

“If she is a child than why is she even here?” The other shieldmaiden snapped back. “The camp is not a sacred place free of any harm.”

The mother scowled at the woman, running her hand over her daughter’s head in a comforting way. “I’ve come along raids many times. Not once have I-“

Her angry words were silenced by the gasp her daughter lets out. Frightened for the safety of her girl, the women grabbed her tightly. But her daughter had not been harmed. Her finger shakily pointed forward as her eyes filled themselves with tears.

The shieldmaiden that was looking out the tent, lay now dead on the floor. Her throat pierced by an arrow.

“Audhilde” Her fellow shieldmaiden whispered out, her hands clenched into fists. Without thinking you jumped up, grabbing the axe the fallen shieldmaiden had taken with her.

In the moment it took you to grab the axe, a second arrow entered the tent, missing you by an inch. The feeling of the arrow zooming past your face made you choke on your breath. Looking to the left you saw two men fight with each other, one of them holding a crossbow in his hands.

Sniffing, the other shieldmaiden took a seat next to you. Her eyes were clouded by the anger rising inside of her. With harsh movements, she lined up her arrow.

“What are you playing at?” She hissed, as you held her back.

Remaining silent, you stared straight into the fiery eyes of the shieldmaiden next to you, while your hand kept pushing the bow down. The woman in front of you frowned, opening her mouth, but was silenced when you placed your finger on your lip. Slowly, you crawled backwards, pulling the woman with you to hide behind the fabric.

Nodding your head towards the small mirror that was placed on the box next to the healer and her child, you made the shieldmaiden aware of the danger right outside the tent. In the reflection you could make out a man. He walked hastily around the tent in front of your hideout, before deciding that the one on its right was the one he needed. A second soldier joined him, and together they entered the tent.

You tilted your head, frowning at their odd behaviour. As you took a better look at them, your confusion only grew. They seemed to be in a rush. As if they were the ones being hunted, as if they were struck with fear and wanted this to end as fast as possible.

The shieldmaiden next to you grew tired of waiting inside the tent. Waiting was just the same as giving up, she thought. Pushing you aside, she took a seat next to the entrance. With the tip of her arrow she carefully pulled back the material of the tent, giving herself more room to get a good look at the outside world.

“Why haven’t they burned ours yet?” You wondered out loud.

The shieldmaiden snorted, looking over her shoulder briefly. “Why should I care?”

“Look around you. They are not walking around as men that believe in their cause. Only a few seem proud to fight for their lord. We are losing this. We are being slaughtered. And still, most of them seem so scared of what may come after them…”

Your words made the woman in front of you think for a second, before she shook her head and lined up her arrow once more.

“Try to get out as fast as you can. Run to the forest. Take ‘whiny’ and her mother with you. I will take care of those fuckers outside.” She groaned, before she shot her first arrow and launched herself out of the tent.

The shake of your head went not unnoticed by the mother, who looked at you confused. Her insides boiling with anger due to the shieldmaiden abandoning her and her only child in the middles of an ambush with a woman who seemed unfit to protect them.

“Pure suicide. This is going way too fast. Attacking now that the three brothers are not here ...” You mumbled out. The words coming out fast and quiet, crumbling the little hope the woman had. Not only did that shieldmaiden leave her alone with a seemingly unfit person, but now that person was mad too. “They planned this all!”

The conclusion made you snap back to the reality around you. The frightened girl shaking in her mother’s arms, the sounds of swords clashing just outside your tent, yells of terror in the distance. You looked down, the axe lying comfortably in your hand. With a small nod to the mother you told her to get up. Quickly, she scrambled to her feet, lifting her daughter up. Her eyes immediately went to the entrance of the tent, but you held her back.

“Go out there and you’ll die.”

The words made her halt. She wanted to scream back at you, but the confident glare on your face made her bite her tongue. “Where do we go then?”

Not answering her, you stepped forward slightly, bending down to get a look of the frightening world outside the tent. Outside the shieldmaiden who had carelessly run out of her hideout was fighting against one of the soldiers. Her face was covered in the blood of her opponents. Skilfully, she kept the man at bay with a sword she had taken from the ground. But beyond her knowing, a second man slowly made his way towards them. The grin on his face was vicious. He was one of the few who enjoyed this all. Collecting all of your power to restrain yourself, you watched how he snuck up on the shieldmaiden and sliced her shoulder with his sword. Turning around before you saw her end, you tried to see if you could find another way to escape.

There was no way you could fight your way out of here. Even if you wanted to, the possibility of stepping outside this tent and be met with the same fate as that woman was too high. Nevertheless, staying in this tent was no option either.

Blinking at the weapon in your hand, an idea struck you. Without hesitation you walked straight towards the back of the tent, followed by the mother and her daughter. With brute force, your pushed away everything that kept you from reaching the fabric of the tent. A couple of boxes, the mirror, some candles, they all landed harshly on the ground. The mother watched perplexed as her daughter escaped her grip and helped you. Your lips curved upward as you looked into her eyes. Raising your eyebrows, you lifted up the axe in the air.

“We’re making us a way out of here…”

With the axe, you sliced the fabric of the tent, ripping it apart. Careful not to end up like the death shieldmaiden inside the tent, you opened the gab slowly, searching for any possible foe.

“Everything’s clear. When I say go, run. Run and do not stop until you’re deep into the woods.”

Not waiting for an answer, you walked around the tent, straight towards the boxes you carelessly threw through the tent. There had to be something in here for them to protect themselves with. The mother narrowed her eyes at your plan, the concern for her daughter made her be on edge. But her daughter nodded determined.

You smiled as you stumbled across a knife. Nodding your head at yourself, you walked up to the mother.

Her confusion did not disappear once you presented her with the knife, but without hesitation she took it from you. “How do you know all of this?”

Not containing the sinister laugh that escaped your lips, you grinned back at the mother.

“My dad wished for a son.” You muttered out, raising your eyebrows at her.

Before you could step outside to get one final look, you heard a low chuckle behind you. Turning around, your eyes widened as they made contact with the men that had attacked the shieldmaiden only a few moments ago.

“Three little birds in a cage.”

“Now!”

In a flinch the mother and her daughter ran out of the tent. The young girl screamed and cried while she held the hand of her mother, her tearful eyes glued on you until she disappeared out of your sight.

The man grunted, irritated by their escape. However, he still had one little bird left. Slowly, as a fox sneaking up on his prey, he walked towards you. Confident in his skills. You licked your lips. Chuckling, the man took a step forward, the sword in his hand raised high above his head. Without thinking, you ducked underneath his swing, sidestepping to avoid him completely. With all the power you could muster up, you sliced the axe across his back. The man hollered, pressing his hand against the wound. As he took sight of the blood on his hand the man simply laughed at you, muttering under his breath. There was no sign that this man was one of those weak one-God lovers Ivar used to tell you about.

The man’s eyes had become very dark. And with a load roar he ran towards you, making you duck to avoid his dangerous move. The man, not expecting this, could not hold himself back and thrashed through the tent and the opening you just made, falling down on his face as he flew through the gab. Not wasting the moment, you ran after him, pushing him down with your foot and hitting him with the stump side of your axe so you could knock him out. As fierce as you may be now, a shieldmaiden was not what you were at heart.

“Heathen!”

The word made your blood run cold. A couple of men had spotted you. Running towards you at full speed, their swords raised high in the air. Turning around and deciding that your time acting as a hero was over, you tried to make a run for it, sprinting to the trees.

With each step the tree line came closer. And with that, your freedom. An escape from the terrible fate of being captured by the enemy. Behind you, tents were still burning. Christian soldiers and Viking warriors lay dead on the bloody floor. Those that had started their escape too late either trashing in the hold of those Christians or hiding in the few tents that were still untouched.

Another step. The trees were so close. Two men ran in front of you. Both carrying their wounded friend, trying their best to get him to safety. Grunting as they carried him forward, completely ignoring his pleas to leave him behind.

Another step. With a quick look behind your shoulder, you noticed that those Christian soldiers had stopped following you. Instead, there was only one remaining. Standing lonesome, next to a tent that was lightened on fire. Not slowing down, you kept running.

And then.

Pain.

A sharp cry passed your lips as the piercing, throbbing pain in your shoulder knocked you off your feet. Falling down on your stomach, you tried your best to look at your right shoulder, where an arrow had pierced your flesh. Moving felt almost impossible, the pain keeping you down on the ground. Leaving you vulnerable. An easy prey for the Christian soldier that walked up to you, grinning wickedly while playing with the bow in his hand.

---

Thank you for reading xxx

Tags: @fairyofvoid

#vikings #vikings imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless imagines #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar imagines #ivar x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless fic #first request

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