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severepink · 4 months

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Observing Adam

Where I go way too deep into something that probably isn't that deep. It's long, it's long as hell.

Okay, so you'd think with how Adam talks he's just a typical misogynist, right?

This man worships pussy. So much so, he's named a whole ass angel, one of his best, Vagina. You'd say that he objectifies them and thinks of them as being lesser, but I don't think that's the whole story. In fact, I think he might be the original simp.

All of these exorcists so far have been women. All of them. He refers to them as ladies or bitches interchangeably, he sees them as being completely capable of absolutely decimating leagues of some of the most vile beings who have ever existed, and they have, to the point it was only after thousands of years that there's been a risk to this hierarchy.

He's a self-centered, egotistical, loud-mouthed, arrogant asshole, no doubt about it, but I'm beginning to suspect something now.

If Adam and Lilith were created from the same dust, if they were created as equals, I am more than willing to bet... Lilith is also a self-centered, egotistical, arrogant asshole. But, she's likely far more intelligent, composed, and duplicitous.

Lilith was allowed to refuse Adam and leave of her own free will and garnered her own independence. A new wife was created for Adam, she was replaced. My guess, is she thought Adam wouldn't be able to live without her, to come back and find herself replaced entirely, she was enraged.

I believe both Adam and Lilith were both incredibly dominant individuals who fought over ideas, thoughts, and ultimately in the bedroom as well, if we take into account the creationist stories.

I'm willing to bet she likely manipulated Lucifer into twisting humanity against its original concept. What if Lucifer's intention truly was to just spark something within Eve, like independence and thought and creation, but it was Lilith's poison within the fruit that tainted her, then subsequently Adam, with sin.

Lilith thrived in hell, while Lucifer's dreams of creation were dashed. She didn't suffer as he did, instead the power of her voice grew with hell. Her voice grew so powerful that heaven found it to be a threat, her actions instigated the beginning of exterminations.

Charlie said that when she was a little girl, she didn't know Lucifer at all. I don't think this was because of Lucifer, he's seen here, picking her up, inviting her to share in his thoughts and dreams, showing her something wonderful. Something she could see within herself.

Charlie says that it's this moment that sparked her will to fight for her dreams. Which is strange, because at the very beginning of the story, Charlie says it was her mother's dream that was passed down to her.

Lilith took Charlie away. In this scene, Lucifer wasn't done showing Charlie his thoughts and dreams, he's still yearning to show his daughter these things at this point.

Lucifer loves his daughter. He loves Charlie so, so, so much. So why wasn't he allowed to build a relationship with his daughter for the longest time? He was waiting for the opportunity to get to know her, but with how much he adores her why didn't he do it sooner? He didn't comment on 'It took you a while-' he just said he missed her smile. They don't want to be pulled apart, again.

Now, we know Vivziepop has said that Lucifer and Lilith love each other, but Lilith 'wears the pants' in the relationship. We see all of the pictures all over the walls of a supposedly happy family. I don't think the relationship was as loving as originally portrayed and Lilith is a woman who desires control above all else. She likely tried to mitigate what influence Lucifer had over their daughter when she thought his angelic thoughts and behaviors became more than what she approved of.

Lets take it back to Adam and Lute for a moment. Again, Adam is a loud mouthed idiot, he's a jerk. The moment he realizes there are demons in heaven, he's ready to go on the attack. It's only because of Lute that he didn't end up doing something absolutely idiotic.

I gotta say, Lute and Adam's relationship is an absolutely fascinating one. He's a disrespectful dick head in how he talks, but how he acts is a different story. He allows Lute to man-handle him. He does listen to her, even if he's a whiny bitch about it.

Look at him, this is the face of a man listening, a dumb one, but a dude listening all the same. He doesn't manhandle her back, he doesn't even pull away until she lets go of his collar. Of all the shit he complained about, between being grabbed and being told what to do, his biggest complaint is that she's telling him to shush.

We know that Adam is the one who suggested the exterminations to begin with, so Sera says, and this was because of the power that Lilith was amassing. To him, Lilith is a threat. Even when he was willing to move on, to go to another wife when Lilith didn't want him or want to submit to him (fair babe, he's a bit of an idiot), she came back with an angel and proceeded to manipulate his new wife Eve. This is the supposed progenitor of man-kind, the original dick (hilariously enough), the reason civilization even exists at all. He and Eve had to fight for their lives after being tempted with the fruit. They had immortality, they had no ideas of shame, they were supposedly 'innocent' creatures before Lilith and Lucifer came along. He and Eve had to fight tooth and nail to survive after being cast from Eden. I think it shows in how willing and ready he is to take lead and do what he believes needs to be done, now out of a need for entertainment rather than a need to defend or protect. But, he still stopped to listen to Lute's advice. In the mythological story of Adam and Eve, Adam is the one who has to tell Eve that god said don't eat the fruit. Eve never heard god speak to her, so she was vulnerable to the snake's manipulations. She will now die because she ate it, and because she did not want Adam to take another wife, convinced him to eat it unknowingly. Funnily enough, Adam tried to explain to god that 'she lied to me and gave me the fruit' and in this actual mythology, Adam was punished for listening to his wife. Even without mentioning Lilith in the original mythology, Eve didn't want Adam to take another wife, so when we consider it within the context of Hazbin Hotel, it may be likely that's how it went down. Eve knew of Lilith, knew that she could be replaced, and decided that she would take Adam with her.

I believe that Adam does and did rely on the women in his life to help him with direction. I think Adam knows he can be an idiot and is willing to listen, even if he doesn't agree with what he's hearing. He did listen to Charlie in the beginning, he just didn't believe in her, like everyone else and he, out of anyone there, probably had the most reason not to. Cain and Abel were his and Eve's sons, his own child became the first murderer. Out of jealousy, the same kind of jealousy that no doubt has caused Lilith to act how she did. Adam isn't going to have empathy for sinners. His family, his legacy, were filled with the original sinners. He probably had to kill his son Cain in hell during the first exterminations. What do you think he would have had to feel, if it came to be a fact that sinners could be redeemed? That maybe his son, could've been redeemed? Or any of his progeny for that matter? How did it feel when his sons, his progeny, weren't given the same mercy as the Hellborn that Lucifer managed to keep protected through some deal with the angels or god? Not to mention that Charlie could've been his daughter. Charlie is the product of the people who completely and totally destroyed the paradise he'd been born into. She's the daughter who is protected and immune from the slaughter while all of his sons and daughters are judged and killed. I believe, even though he was a dickish prankster to Charlie, he was surprisingly patient and even somewhat amicable, willing to even ask her how her weekend was like he was just trying to get to know her.

Adam could just see all of the angels under his employ as being disposable. He doesn't have to name them, or think about them in any individual fashion. But, he knows Vaggie, recognized her instantly. Thought she was badass. Lute's the one who saw her, tore her wings off, and walked away. I'm surprised they even let her live, because this just goes against everything they're doing. They're an army and they saw one of their own showing empathy to the enemy.

Look at this dumb ass. He's being a shit-head, a dick, a bastard. But, he admires Vaggie's ability to pull Charlie, congratulates her, this dude isn't even judging her for being a lesbian. I don't think it's because he objectifies women, this dude loves women, he just does. He respects fellow vagina lovers. I don't think he respects liars in the slightest though. He's being underhanded, he's trying to be manipulative (he's not very good at it). I think he's brutally open and honest about everything and that's probably one of the reasons he's such a bastard anyways, because sometimes you just need to shut-up and he's not good at that.

I don't think he respects Sera for that either, he's more than willing to let others know what the hell he's doing, but under Sera's lead, he can't be open about it. I don't think it's his jam to act this way, it's why he sucks so bad at it and I think that's why Lilith is so antithetical to him. I also think that's why he's possibly even being manipulated.

It's kind of crazy that Adam is the only one who tries to come up with what allows someone to get into heaven. So here's his list: 1. Act Selfless: Maybe at one point he was! He had to have been, to be one of the progenitors of mankind, he would have had to work, sacrifice, and give to his wife and children for them all to survive. Eve would have had to do the same, no doubt. He may not seem selfless, due to his raunchy behavior, but he's served heaven since he's been there. He's served humanity in some kind of facet. 2. Don't Steal: Considering the only other humans are his spawn, he likely had to try and get them to not steal from one another for them all to have an equal opportunity of survival. He and Eve likely both knew they would need to work together to survive.

3. Stick it to the man: This, however, is interesting. Who is 'The Man' he speaks of? God? The only other people over him or were equal to him were women. He speaks like a rocker, and I think in this case he's using the term 'The Man' in a gender neutral way. I think he allowed some amount of Authority to Lilith when they were supposed to be seen as equals, it comes so naturally to him as a character when it comes to the other women he's been interacting with. I think she is the 'man' that he's been sticking it to- Pun somewhat intended. ((This third one may also simply be a tongue in cheek reference to when Alex Brightman played Dewey in School of Rock on Broadway! Thank you to the user who brought this to my attention!))

Adam is a bit of a hypocrite, isn't he? He likes to fuck, he's made that abundantly clear. Full of lust you could say. It was his original purpose after all, and he is judging Angel Dust for something he probably would've done himself at one point or has considered doing (maybe not the having sex with men part). Angel Dust does all of these things, Adam doesn't even deny it. He even looks nervous. He's angry, but doesn't deny that Angel has done those things. He doesn't explain it away or try to lie or move the goal posts, he's just asking what is an actually very valid question.

Why isn't Angel Dust there if he can do things equal to what Adam himself hasn't done? Serenity continues that line of thought. It isn't until Charlie is realizing no one knows what it takes to get into heaven.

Adam is more than willing to let Lute take the lead here, he's willing to give her the stage to clap back, he's giving her back-up antics. By all means, they could be pushing and fighting one another, there could easily be body language expressing something other than their general comfort around one another. They aren't fighting for a spotlight like you'd expect Adam to try and do considering his egotistical attitude.

Adam fucking sucks at keeping his mouth shut and he sucks at lying. He nearly blew the secret out of the bag once, this time, Sera is the only one who tries to stop him and to be honest? Lute looks a bit too thrilled at it. He knows he fucked up, but he doesn't think it's a big deal that anyone would know. For fucks sake, they've already condemned souls, his progeny, to suffer. What's the big deal if he kills them?

I have to re-iterate what's happening here. Charlie is proud she caused this chaos, that she caused these angels to fight amongst themselves, even if in this case it's a good thing. But, this is like history repeating itself to Adam, the reflection of his ex-wife, entering his domain, causing strife among his people, being happy about it.

And the venom he expresses when it comes to the 'liar' portion, god Alex Brightman destroyed when he got to this portion specifically. There is some vehement disgust in his tone when he says liar.

Adam isn't a good person now. But, I think he used to be a good person. By all means, Adam himself could've been the first murderer when his wife made her mistake. He, at one point in time, had to have been good enough to foster civilization itself with Eve. Both good and bad. Adam's original purpose was to be fruitful and multiply. Ordained by god (or maybe just angels) himself, divine power directed and created him to fuck. He didn't chase his ex-wife down, he was given a new one, Lilith was allowed to leave. When he left things alone, when he tried to move on, his ex-wife and a scorned angel destroyed the paradise he was in with Eve. He had to struggle and toil, he had to feel shame in his own body. He had to find out his first born son was the first murderer. His second son killed. We don't know if this is going to be canon in the story, a lot has changed, and if Adam is the first soul who reached heaven, then what did happen to Abel? Was Abel considered a sinner? Or did Cain kill Abel after Adam had passed? Either way, he had to witness his children kill, he had to watch his descendants behave in a range from saints and monsters. He's seen genocides, he's seen famine, war. Adam is desensitized to the plights of his descendants. Maybe he even saw it as a duty to cleanse the universe of their existence at one point, because they were his responsibility.

At the end of this episode, he is properly scolded by Sera and does seem ashamed of himself. He isn't huffy, he is reminded that he should be ashamed of acting that way.

I love Lute's enthusiasm, she's absolutely brutal when talking about Vaggie and with how she handled Vaggie. I think it's funny that Lute is so brutal she's even made Adam uncomfortable. It's cute that he's made uncomfortable by the excitement and all he does is tell Lute, the premier hype woman over here, to chill. She's so proud of herself too, look at her.

He fully expects these exorcist bad bitches to go in there and fuck shit up. But, you know it's hilarious that he's throwing horns? This dude, this angel. First human soul in heaven, loving rock n' roll, the devil's music, and throwing motherfucking horns. It's poetic really. I think we can probably assume where things are going.

Now, this is the first point we've seen Adam being a real piece of shit to Lute. I don't think Adam likes it when people think he's too dumb to notice something, especially something so damn obvious. This is such a drastic moment of vitriolic, uncontrolled anger directed towards Lute. Adam knows he isn't the brightest tool in the shed. He likely knows he's obtuse and misses shit. It's why he sucks at lying, he knows he's not smart. That is why I think he's afforded women opportunities to direct him without fighting back against their advice and their choices. I'm sure Lilith made it obvious how dumb she thinks Adam is. I'm wondering if this might be where their ground breaking fight might've come from. Who's to say he didn't allow Lilith to take the lead, or listen to her like he's done with Lute here and now? Perhaps to an even greater point? He listened to Eve and ate from the fruit of knowledge and he was punished for it. Being seen as so dumb he can't formulate a simple fact is a sore spot for him.

Adam is incredibly powerful. It took a bit out of him to exercise that power, probably because he's out of practice just like Lucifer said. At one point, he probably wasn't so sloppy and weak willed. He's gotten lazy. Sloth like.

I think it got real personal here. How viscerally and personally he attacked Charlie. No one but Charlie truly thought sinners could be redeemed, or that they were even worth it. Not even one of the original sinners. Maybe he never considered the possibility, maybe what happened really did make him see the world as black and white to cope with that happened to him, his wife, his children. Charlie's desire to fight this idea would destroy the foundation for all of his coping through the years. He stopped seeing them as family, even though he's grandiose about his founding role in humanity. Does that itch the guilt that may lurk under the surface?

I don't think Adam thought much of Charlie at all. I don't think he had any intention of coming to kill her in the beginning, despite seeing her, despite who her parents were. But, I think with the constant push, with how eager she was to disrupt the pre-conceived idea of order, it reminded Adam and reflected her parents so much, he was eager to kill her for revenge against them. I think this electrical interference on the mask is a direct reflection of sin. Namely, wrath, in this moment.

Now, this. THIS. Is something that made me want to write this whole fucking essay. Is Lucifer implying that he not only gave Eve the Fruit from the tree of knowledge, but FUCKED HER TOO? Homies, I'm sorry but holy shit. That is some hydrating tea. I'd be pretty pissed too, fucked over twice by women who were supposed to be literal soul mates, who you were made for, who were made for you?

I knew he would have a goatee, I could almost hear it. I gotta say, I'm a sucker for how he looks. I think he's hot. He is a bastard, but so are a lot of the hot dudes in this show. It's just a theme.

This exact series of lines prompted so many of the thoughts that I had about Adam and why he thinks or acts the way he does. At one point, Adam did have to work himself to the bone and learn to survive from scratch alongside Eve. He isn't entirely without cause to not think that he deserves some respect or recognition from his descendants.

But, that doesn't give him the right to act like god himself. It's... well... Blasphemous. Isn't it? One of the worst sins is to think yourself to be worthy of worship, as if you're a god.

This is the moment that gave me empathy for them both. You could probably see the kind of loving person Adam could have been at one point with how he looks at Lute, even as he's laying there, dying. He's not crying like a bitch, just looking at Lute softly. Lute screaming for him, screaming his name. They cared for each other deeply.

And this... and this.... and this. WHAT DEAL DID YOU MAKE, LILITH? Did you make it with Sera? Did you make it with Adam? Did you make it with Lute? Did you really just want a little 'vacay' away from the hell you helped create? Left her husband, depressed and lonely. Left her daughter without any care or guidance. Maybe Alastor was sent in her place, perhaps? Seven years since he was seen after all, but why wouldn't he show up sooner if Lilith did care? Did she make a deal with Lute and Adam? Did she let Adam smash it so she could stay in heaven? Did Lute let her stay in exchange for getting Adam out of a position of power? Or was it maybe Sera who commissioned Lilith with a deal? Either way, I'm in full belief that it wasn't Adam's idea to move the extermination day up. I think he's a patsy, a scapegoat. I think Lute may have been manipulated, potentially, into manipulating Adam into this position. Was it even really Adam who came up with the idea to do the exterminations? Or was he the one who simply decided to fight originally because he was told heaven was at risk due to Lilith's rising power? The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions. I think it could be any number of these. Either way, Lute certainly does think she had authority over Lilith. Is it Lute just having hubris? Or is Lilith truly bound, just like Alastor, Husk, and Angel Dust?

Of course, now that we know a soul can be redeemed... and we certainly know that angels can fall. I don't think this will be the last we see of Adam.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #adam hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #eve hazbin hotel #lilith hazbin hotel #lilith morningstar #character study

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loveemagicpeace · 3 months

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🍿Astro Notes ✨

🍿What I personally love about Scorpios and Capricorn is that they are so real. They will tell you the real opinion and review on it. They show very realistically the things that are happening in the world or if they go to a city they will give a real opinion of what they though about them.

🦋The 12th house is a hidden house that does not show outwardly like other houses. But it shows through the energy-you can feel this house & you can understand it. But when you have synastry with someone here , it is important to trust your intuition even if you don't know what will happen. To trust through the unknown.

🩵Capricorn rising people have no mercy when it comes to betraying them or doing something bad. Once you lose their respect, it's over. They will never look at you as the same person again. Because when they respect someone, they show that person means a lot to them.

🧚🏼‍♀️Don't lie to mercury in scorpio because they will know the truth before you lie about it. They immediately feel when someone is not telling the truth or when someone is fake, duplicitous, hypocritical. They can read people instantly. If you lie to them, you will end up looking stupid.

🍬And when it comes to Mercury signs. The smartest signs are: Sagittarius (they have a very intelligent mind, they say things very well and can explain them. A very knowledgeable character). Scorpio( they will analyze everything beforehand and are very good at assessing the situation. They delve into the actual conversation and think very psychologically). Virgo ( they are smart and intelligent. They explain things very well).

🍪Individuals with a Taurus moon in the 8th house tend to have deep and intense emotions. They may be very loyal and steadfast in their emotions, and can be possessive or jealous in relationships. These individuals may also have a strong desire for stability and security in their emotional life, and may have a tendency to hold onto grudges or emotional wounds for a long time.

🧁On the other hand, individuals with a Leo moon in the 5th house tend to have a more dramatic and expressive emotional nature. They may be generous and warm-hearted, and may seek validation and attention through their emotions.These individuals may also be creative and passionate, and may enjoy being the center of attention in their personal relationships.

🧃Overall, while Taurus moon in the 8th house individuals may be more reserved and focused on building emotional security, Leo moon in the 5th house individuals may be more outgoing and dramatic in expressing their emotions.

🍭Pisces moon- Pisces is the sign of depths of emotion, and the Moon represents your instinctive emotional reactions and some- times your hidden dreams. Pisces is also the astrological sign of sorrow and self-undoing. If you have the Moon in Pisces you have deep feelings and an innate understanding of the human condition. You are very dreamy and like to live in a romantic fairy tale.

🥃Scorpio moon- You are very clever at hiding your true feelings. This is also one of the more difficult lunar positions. Though you are driven by strong passions you tend to deny that they are your motivation. There is usually a secret sor- row or trouble in the lives of Moon-Scorpios that very of- ten concerns family problems or health. If u have sun in earth sign this accentuates your managerial talents and capacity for authority and leadership. If u have sun in air sign this bestows deep mental powers and an ability to captivate the public.

🌙Moon sign usually represents more hidden aspect of your personality. It is a pervasive influence, but it is likely that other people sense the influence of your Moon sign in your character rather than see it on the surface.

🔥Aries Rising- u usually have strong likes and dislikes and you are never shy about expressing them. You are an activist and doer rather than a thinker. You like to be noticed. Aires people are accident-prone. Because you are impulsive and quick to rush in headlong, you usually don’t look where you are going. Are prone to accidents with fire and sharp instruments.

🍫Taurus Rising- Owning things can sometimes become a mania; you covet possessions and once you own something you guard it jealously and are heartbroken should you lose it. You never resign yourself to the fact that things break, tear, wear out, get lost, and are stolen. They are very attached to things and really hate the fact that they lose something.

🍸Gemini Rising- you have an excitable nature that is You travel, change residences and occupations, and often marry more than once. quick to react to any stimulus, to come up with an answer to any question and also to get upset easily. You love puzzles,games,books. You travel, change residences and occupations, and often marry more than once.

🧊Virgo Rising- Emotionally, it’s hard for you to show your feelings. For many of you, a marriage partner brings property or wealth. Later in life they frequently become property owners, often in a foreign country.

☁️Scorpio Rising- tend to have a secret love affair at least one time in their lives, and usually marry more than once. Astrologers have observed a strange pattern in which Scorpios often lose their first spouse to death. The influence of Pluto bestows powerful feelings and emotions, a sense of purpose, persistence, determination, plus the imagination and ability to make a successful start in a new direction.

Sagittarius Rising- they are often subjected to the fact that they are very disturbed by injustice. Sometimes much more than libras. You like to travel, see new places, learn how the rest of the world lives. You fear that if you take success too seriously, life will become boring. You are impulsive, sometimes reckless. To take action is the main thing, to do something about a problem. You don’t always stop to consider where all the activity may lead. Marriage is not the most important thing in your life. U have a tendency to marry the wrong person (at least once) and get into unhappy romantic situations from which they must extricate themselves.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🧚🏼‍♀️🍬🧃

#astrology #energy #zodiac signs #planets #astrological houses #astrology observations #birth chart #moon #rising signs

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ivystoryweaver · 29 days

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Your Father's Rival!Leto Atreides x F!virgin!reader

NSFW MDNI. Reader is of age, obviously! AU in the sense that there is no mention of Lady Jessica or Paul Atreides. Also, Leto may be OOC here. Not beta'd. More content/warnings below the cut. 1.3k words

content: seduction, nipple play, allusions to oral - f. rec., allusions to fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, duplicitous behavior, but everything is consensual

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

Your father's rival!Leto Atreides

...who invites your family to Caladan for "peace talks", but secretly hatches his plan

Rival!Leto, who welcomes your begrudging father, throwing a magnificent ball in your family's honor

whose gaze lingers on you - your father's only heir, nearly twenty years younger than Leto himself...

and conveniently unmarried.

Rival!Leto, who requests the honor of a first dance with you. His dark eyes devour yours as his gloved hands pull you a little closer than is formal.

whose stern countenance dissolves when eyes crinkle as he grants you a brilliant smile

whose smooth, tenor voice tickles your ear as he compliments your dancing, subtly hinting at how your body moves in perfect time with his

whose gaze lingers on your lips before dipping down to the low scooped neck of your gown

Rival!Leto, who lets everyone know to treat your family like royalty - to be sure you don't miss a single dance, so that you will eventually need to step outside for some air...

who conveniently stumbles upon you under the stars, in the lush gardens of Castle Caladan and manages to remark how you are more beautiful, if possible, bathed in moonglow

Rival!Leto, who notices your breath hitch when he nears, who asks permission to escort you on a tour of the garden, granting him the opportunity to take you by the arm.

who finds you delightful, really: intelligent - well-read and opinionated. Sparkling conversation distracts him, for a brief while, from his primary goal.

Rival!Leto, who plans to seduce you, and breed you.

You're young and beautiful, and a virgin - the cherished prize of his one and only rival.

Rival!Leto, who will snatch his enemy’s most precious possession from his grasp - to steal your youth, your body and above all, your love.

Not to harm you. In fact, he's already growing quite fond of you.

Rival!Leto, who bids you goodnight, as an upstanding Duke would do, who keeps your honor in tact, while his plan begins to unfold.

who notices you stealing glances across the breakfast table, smiling to himself at the impression he's clearly already made.

who finds you again in the gardens later that evening - who walks and talks with you, luring you into a comforting trust...but doesn't realize he is being lured as well.

Rival!Leto, who carries on for days, so innocently, that he's almost forgotten the duplicity of his original plan...

who finds himself meaning it when he folds you into his arms and kisses you breathless underneath the stars, his body responding with fervor as you wind your fingers through his thick curls and tug him closer to you.

who lures you the next night, and the next, until your walks in the garden turn into the collision of your mouths, the tangle of tongues, the sharing of breath, kissing and panting and touching, bolder each evening.

unlacing the front of your dress while kissing you deeply before trailing his lips down your throat, fingers brushing your collarbone.

stepping over the line of propriety, cupping your breast in his palm, stoking a fire of lust inside you. His lips caress the curve of your mound as hot breath fans across your stiff peaks.

Your father's rival, who takes your nipple into his mouth and gently sucks, pulling a breathy moan from your throat...

who greedily sucks and fondles away your innocence, his cock stirring and twitching at the sounds of your evident desire.

Rival!Leto, who has you half naked in the garden - a scandal just waiting to be uncovered - but the sound of his name on your lips won't allow him to slow, or stop.

who tells you that he's never seen anything more beautiful in all the known universe, and asks you to come to his bed tonight.

Your father's rival, who assures you his staff is discreet, and your secret is safe...

who thrills as you enter his bedchamber in the dark of night, very obviously bathed and perfumed to please him

who unleashes his fervent desire now that you are alone, unlacing your gown - his strong fingers laying claim to your soft flesh as his hungry mouth seeks out yours.

Your father's rival, who draws previously unknown desires from the core of you, making you bloom with raw want and drip with lust, soaking his beard

whose lips bring you to heaven itself as he sucks and fingers away your innocence, coaxing you into womanhood with delicious gasps and moans and sweet little begs that make him hard and ready to take your body completely

who slips inside the wet core of you, hissing as you snugly fit and grip his cock, whimpers and sighs of how full you feel tickling his ear.

His name on your lips as he starts to move - as the sting of intrusion eases into a fullness and completeness unlike anything you could have imagined.

Your father's treasure, naked and panting and scandalously writhing beneath his bitter rival, filled with his thick length, giving your maidenhood away to the enemy - to a man who has promised you nothing

Rival!Leto who presses his strong hand to your abdomen, murmuring your name. "Let me fill you up, dove. You can have a piece of me I've given no woman before this night."

"Yes, Leto," you repeat over and over. "Fill me...I'm yours."

Your father's rival, who intends to fill your belly with his heir, and now realizes, as your thighs fall apart - with each deep thrust - how quickly and how hard he comes inside you. How he fell apart so easily in the soft heat of your body. How he relishes this task he’s taken upon himself, almost feeling as if he is corrupting you.

who holds you close to his chest, like he owns you, your bodies still joined, kissing you possessively

Who can't seem to usher you back to your rooms, even to keep your scandalous secret. Who gently wipes you clean and folds you against his naked, sated body, assuring you to give into your exhaustion and rest - feeling a secret thrill that he’s winning your trust, as you sleep soundly

Who wakes to your beautiful face in dawn's light, stares into your eyes and kisses you deeply, certain you are falling in love with him

He swallows hard, realizing…something is happening to him.

Rival!Leto who finds his thoughts on you constantly throughout the day, who can't keep his eyes from devouring you when you enter a room.

Who desperately seeks a moment alone with you, to beckon you back to his bed. "I must have you again," he murmurs against your cheek in a darkened alcove.

He gathers you into his arms when you come to him that night and takes you to bed.

And the next night, and the next. Each night, telling you how he wants to fill you - his body climaxing at your eager acceptance

Who fucks you slow and deep one night, hand on your belly, hard and ready to burst as you beg him to fill you up - who finally utters his plan aloud. "I want you to carry my heir. I want my child to grow inside you."

You assume this is practically a marriage proposal. "Oh Leto..." you coo, coming apart in his arms. "I would love to be your wife."

He should tell you the truth. That he planned to breed you. To trap you on Caladan, to win your heart, and take your father's only treasure away from him.

But he sees an out - he can simply propose and all will be well

Rival!Leto, who didn't plan to actually fall in love with you

Who realizes, he's trapped himself. He loves you too much to lie anymore. So he confesses.

You don't seem upset with him, or even shocked. You simply kiss him deeply, coaxing him to hardness before joining your body with his once more.

Your father's rival, who has fallen in love with you, who wants to marry you, who will share children with you.

Your mission is accomplished. Your father will be proud.

And it cost you nothing. Because you accidentally fell in love with him too

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

Miscellaneous Characters Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#duke leto atreides #leto atreides #dune part one #dune #dune fanfiction #leto atreides x reader #oscar isaac characters

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avelera · 8 months

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So what’s with the soup in OFMD?

I’ve seen a few takes on what the soup symbolizes in OFMD S2 because it does come up a weird amount of times. I’ve seen takes that the soup is a lie and shouldn’t be trusted. Takes that the soup represents love and all that is good. I’ve seen takes that the soup isn’t anything at all, it’s just soup.

I don’t agree with those takes. But I do believe that the soup is more than just soup.

In my opinion, the soup represents community.

Community doesn’t necessarily mean love. A community can be arrayed against you as much as it can be with you. You can choose not to have a community, to break bread, with someone. But a community is something most of us desire and as Izzy notes in the trailer, being a pirate is about being part of something.

- Zheng Yi Sao makes damn good soup. Symbolically, I believe this is a reflection of how she runs a tight ship. How effective she is as pirate queen and in general as a leader of her community. People in her community are well treated. Her leadership style, like the broth of the soup, is balanced. Had Olu remained with her, he would have been well treated. She wasn’t being duplicitous with Stede and his crew. Her soup is great, her community is great, and they would have been well fed there had they stayed.

The soup isn’t a value judgement on anything beyond the quality of the community offered. Should they stay? What happens now that they didn’t? Not relevant to the soup metaphor. We’ll find out what happens when you reject Zheng’s amazing soup. At the very least, you just don’t get any more of it.

- Hornigold offers soup to Ed. Ed rejects it. He finds Hornigold’s community poisonous. He doesn’t trust it and he doesn’t want to join it.

It’s simple as that. The soup wasn’t necessarily literally poisoned. The more relevant metaphor is breaking bread with someone as a sign of trust. Ed wants nothing to do with Hornigold’s community.

Most likely where this is leading is a continued used of soup as a metaphor for Ed and Stede and the crew figuring out what kind of community they want to build together. Is the broth balanced? Is it poisoned? Is it too salty, too sweet? Who do we share it with? Who do we refuse to accept soup from? It’s all about community.

#ofmd #ofmd spoilers #ofmd meta #our flag means death

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kaedekolya · 2 months

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alkaid: of sincerity, soulmates, and selfless sacrifice

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ Happy birthday, Alkaid! \(´▽`)/ ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ-

In honour of this special day, I’ve prepared a present – a short meta post answering the question posed in the LBC discord server, “What made you fall for Alkaid?”

This screenshot pretty much sums it up (mild Godheim spoilers):

Alkaid loves deeply, and this manifests in his unwavering devotion and earnest sincerity. He is a steadfast protector who loves and feels and hurts with every fibre of his being, yet he conceals this intensity with a genial demeanour.

What are Alkaid’s core motivations and character traits? What lies beneath the facade of this heartrendingly complex character? For all that Alkaid is an enigma, he also inadvertently wears his heart on his sleeve, if you know where to look.

[ SPOILERS: broad references to Alkaid’s stories from Godheim, White Day, and Book of Tales. ]

Upon MC’s first encounter with Alkaid in the modern world, my first impression of him was a decently good one, but not particularly impressive or memorable. He’s the generic nice guy, the affable upperclassman who welcomes you to school and helps you settle in comfortably.

Later, we come to realise that this is exactly what he wants others to think. Alkaid intentionally projects the image of an unassuming gentleman, concealing his true emotions underneath an amiable disposition and a pleasant smile. Wearing this persona as his shield, he strives to be likeable, while also fading into the background, unobtrusive and unremarkable. The less attention drawn to himself, the better; there will be fewer chances to slip up, fewer risks of making a mistake. As long as he keeps up appearances, he can play the role of the perfect prince.

Alkaid does not do this to be deliberately duplicitous; in fact, it is much the contrary. His innate kindness and self-effacing consideration for others spur him to accommodate as much as he can, often to the point of self-sacrifice. He hides his true self, in order to please others. He relinquishes what he has, in order to give others what they want. Alkaid puts himself secondary to what others ask of him, not because he thinks of himself as worthless, but because he believes he is worth less.

In the Book of Tales event, Alkaid’s story draws from Oscar Wilde’s The Nightingale and the Rose. It is a tale of a nightingale who sacrifices her blood and her life, in order to create a red rose for the human she loves. In the same way, Alkaid readily pierces himself with thorns so that he can give MC the red rose she needs. Despite the excruciating pain, he does not flinch in the slightest, but he immediately reacts in a panic when MC is hurt by the thorny vines. Alkaid cares for others more than he does himself, yet he does not realise that by valuing himself less and taking all the hurt upon himself, he is inadvertently hurting those who care for him.

In Godheim, Alkaid’s love is also shown through selfless sacrifice. He willingly forsakes himself without a second thought, simply because he loves someone that deeply and thinks that little of himself in comparison. He would rather inflict wounds on himself than risk taking advantage of the person he loves, and he always strives to be kind no matter the cruelty dealt to him. His desire stems from love, and his power coalesces from his wish to protect those who matter to him.

In an effort to keep MC safe, Alkaid pushes himself to the brink, exhausting all his magic and life energy to the point that he nearly dies. One particular route branch has him shouldering the blame on MC's behalf, taking her punishment upon himself so that she doesn't have to. At the end of it all, he even writes a biography to honour Clarence's sacrifice, despite everything the Archmage has done to him. Alkaid is so empathetic that he can see past his sister's death and recognise that MC is an unwilling player in this whole situation, that she doesn't deserve anyone's ire.

Alkaid's heart runs so deep and so kind, yet he never recognises his own goodness, instead fearing the potential for evil within him. Throughout his Godheim route, he refrains from ending anyone's life, even that of his enemies, yet he is willing to commit evil with his own hands if it means he can protect his beloved MC. It is this irony, this multifacetedness to Alkaid that makes him such an intriguing character – even as it makes him fear himself for what he is capable of.

In modern-day Alkaid, this contradiction is reflected in his self-perception. Borrowing the metaphor of the Rose Elf and the Gentleman Agent, Alkaid believes he cannot possibly be the former because he is nowhere near as honest or upright. Instead, he identifies with the latter, because he hides so much of himself in the shadows.

What Alkaid fails to realise, however, is that these characters are not one-dimensional tropes, and neither is he. The Gentleman Agent is shrouded in veils and deceit, but he is also a protector. The Rose Elf is fragile and delicate, but he is also so ardent in his love and commitment. Alkaid is all of these things, because they can coexist without being contradictory. I won’t go into detail about Awakening, since it’s still a relatively new release and the story is best experienced for yourself, but his route there also ties in with this theme.

Alkaid’s worst fears stem from the dual nature he perceives in himself, the capacity for evil that he believes lurks dormant in his heart. He views good and evil as a binary, believing that they exist as a dichotomy within him, and this is exemplified by the black and white imagery he's often depicted with. Referring to his negative emotions and thoughts as his “other side,” Alkaid separates his good, ideal self from the side he believes he must suppress.

Ironically, this demarcation between the parts of him that are acceptable and the parts that are not inevitably exacerbates Alkaid’s fears. The more people like his outward persona, the more he worries that they will scorn his true nature. He believes that other people like him for what he seems to be, but that they will not like him for who he actually is. He is deceitful, dangerous, disappointing, do they not see that? Do they not realise that the true him is not worthy of such praise or adoration?

The answer is no, because Alkaid is far harsher on himself than he deserves. He is human, and he is allowed to be multifaceted, to have different sides to him, to feel emotions that are positive and negative and the full gamut that runs in between. He is not a dichotomous binary, but a complex being that exists beyond good and evil.

This is where MC comes in. She sees Alkaid for who he is – all the sides he does not show others, and all the selves in disparate worlds across space and time. Beyond the idea of soulmates, her connection with him is that of 知己 (zhī jǐ) – to know someone as you know yourself – in how deeply and thoroughly she understands him. She perceives him, down to the depths of his soul, and she says: I love you, still. Not despite his flaws, or regardless of his shortcomings. Rather, it is an acceptance, encompassing every fibre of his being. I love you for everything you are.

There’s a line from Tian Guan Ci Fu (天官赐福; Heaven Official’s Blessings) that resonates with this idea: 对我来说，风光无限的是你，跌落尘埃的也是你。重点是'你'，而不是'怎样'的你。”To me, the one basking in infinite glory is you, and the one fallen from grace is also you. What matters is ‘you,’ not the state of you.” Alkaid strives to only show his best sides to others, but MC embraces all his worst sides just as readily. He is terrified that she will leave when she realises he’s not like the person she initially thought she loved, but she stays because she sees all of him and cherishes him through it all. She loves him, because he loves so deeply, and he deserves to be loved in return.

So, happy birthday, Alkaid – you are worthy of the love you receive.

#lovebrush chronicles meta #lovebrush chronicles #for all time #lbc #lbc spoilers #alkaid mcgrath #lovebrush alkaid #godheim alkaid #eden alkaid #modern alkaid #sol's meta musings

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kazonandoff · 3 months

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LN 5 and Maomao

Finished 5. Read the prologue to 6. That was a fascinating read and actually pretty sad.

Maomao and Jinshi finally get intimate but neither of them enjoyed it. Comes from Jinshi trying to force the relationship along and I won't talk about that, there's a great post here somewhere of someone else discussing Jinshi's side of things. I wanna talk about Maomao.

If Jinshi has a warped view of relationships, then Maomao is just as bad, of not worse. She talks about how she's incapable of love but I think that's 1) not entirely true and 2) hugely affected by the environment she grew up in.

(BTW if you relate to Maomao as aro/ace that's awesome and I'm not taking that away from you. This is just my interpretation of things).

Maomao has been born and raised in an environment where relationships are a commodity. There's little emotion involved besides the base desires. Without even bringing up her parents, Maomao's sisters have been essential in her viewing relationships this way. Pairin taught her, against her will, how to use sex as a tool and as part of power play. Meimei taught her the best relationships are the ones that give you money and a secure future. And Joka taught her men are duplicitous and will always find a way to hurt or betray you in the end. None of this thinking exactly engenders love in a romantic sense.

So you can probably imagine what this kind of environment does to a young woman's thinking. Maomao is a pragmatic realist and has not a single romantic bone to her body. But she still very much cares.

When presented with 2 young girls in desperate circumstances, the most she can do is make sure they understand the severity of their decision to sell themselves to Verdigris House. When Chou-u starts running around town, she warns him of the dangers of rape and abduction. And when Jinshi comes to her door and says he wants company, she offers him Verdigris services.

And that's the problem. Jinshi wanting her specifically is not something she's currently emotionally equipped to deal with. The definition she's been given of love is that it's a very bad and dangerous thing. So she handles her love for Jinshi in the only way she currently knows how: as a child of the pleasure district, born and raised.

And I'm very sure she loves him. When Jinshi is being himself, without the posturing and machismo, she likes being with him very much. She likes touching him and she likes taking care of him. She just can't really express that yet in a healthy way. Relationships and love are still viewed by the lens of the pleasure district.

So when cornered and pinned down (literally) she turns to the only tactics she knows. The ones her sisters taught her. As a courtesan.

So yes, they got physical, they got intimate. But neither of them particularly liked it. Jinshi is left feeling shamed and Maomao is unsatisfied. Dealing with things the courtesan way is not enough for her anymore. And Jinshi dealing with things the way a person of authority would isn't cutting it. They're not master and servant anymore, not customer and courtesan.

So, in conclusion to this rather long ramble that I am writing half asleep and on only one cup of coffee: these stupid kids need to start communicating.

#the apothecary diaries #maomao #jinshi #jinmao #kusuriya no hitorigoto #way too long #I didn't sleep because of these 2 #I'm not proofreading this

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okkos-ferrum · 5 months

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some alien stage design parallels

I am always captivated by alien stage's designs so here's me likely over thinking small design details between character parallels

Sua vs. Luka

These two are directly paralleled due to both their similar personalities (on the surface level) but opposing relationships with mizi. sua is mizi's universe, but luka manipulates mizi by imitiating a confession by sua during round 5

anyway here are some fun details in their official artwork designs

Both have white their dominant color, with black as a compliment, compared to ivan's all black, hyuna's various colors, ivan's grey and red, and mizi's multi-color hair. however while white/light colors are predominantly in luka's top half, masking the black underneath, sua's black hair frames her face at the top, while she is dressed in all white underneath

Sua's bow is at the front of her chest, meanwhile Luka has a ribbon tied to his back. They aren't the same thing, so it might be a stretch, but to me shows sua's more honest intentions with her affection to mizi, while luka is more duplicitous in his "kindness" to mizi

though contradictory but maybe a connection, sua has her hands gloved, meanwhile luka does not cover his hands at all.

Sua's sleeves are puffed out -- im no fashion person so idk if there is a name to them -- making her top heavy design-wise, while luka's sleeves have the extra frill for a more bottom heavy design.

speaking of which, the one-sided trail follows luka around, giving asymmetry to his design. It's pointed and dynamic, giving a sense of instability, and in luka's case, distrust. It's like a snake in how it follows him around. meanhwile, sua has perfect symmetry to her design, displaying how she was a relaible support for mizi.

Sua & Mizi

Obviously these two are built as strong contrasts. but while the subtler differences between sua and luka's similar designs are to depict their clear distinctions, mizi and sua's strong contrast is to instead show how they perfectly fit together ahhh i love them sm

from the get go, there are numerous differences, both to establish the contrast in their personality. Similar to luka, there is asymmetry in mizi's design through the gloves as well as the multi-color hair, while sua has a sharp bob and symmetrical clothing to show how sua is the calm to mizi's excitement

There's the obvious black to sua's pure white, another show of mizi's spirited nature in comparison. mizi's puffed skirt is a contrast to sua's puffed sleeves, sua's boots contrast to mizi's thigh highs, and mizi has a covered shoulder while sua's dress is an off shoulder dress. Hell, even their eye colors are complimentary colors on the color wheel (just realized luka also has yellow eyes haha). in every respect, these two characters share zero similar features which can tie them together. But it instead shows how they compliment each other as polar opposites!

in terms of the only connection i can pull, the gem mizi often is featured with is shown here at the center of her chest, the exact placement to sua's both. perhaps representing their love for each other being their centers???

Till vs. Ivan

The other major relationship ... the more tumultuous of the two -- also have the heavy contrast to link them together. but both share an intrstic desire of wishing to be with another they can never have, so there is a strong parallel there. in a lot of ways, it is similar to how contrast is played up between mizi and sua, with one being the refined, calmer one while the other is far more hot-headed

To get over the obvious, ivan's fitted trenchcoat is in all black while till is seen with a oversized white t-shirt. till's rebelliousness is seen through his lack of shoes or sleeves, showing both how open he is regarding his emotions as well as his lack of care for himself. meanwhile, ivan is knee high boots and gloves over his long sleeved coat, representing his closed off intentions/desires

ivan's collar (seen also in the flashbacks when they were kids) is symmetrical and close to his neck while till is always choosing an off shoulder look, the real collar (not a shirt collar, like ivan's) always a seperate piece on his neck. again, showing ivan's supposed submission to the system while till is blatant in his hositility against alien stage, only controlled through force.

however, while it can be pointed out till is primarily in white, he isn't and thats what is the contrast between the two. while ivan wears only one color, showing his undying devotion to till (whether that may be love or trying to let him go when going into round 6), till has his red underneath, which shows his split in motives.

till similarly wants to escape from alien stage, seen through round 3's flashback in him accepting ivan's escape. but due to it meaning leaving mizi, till has to reject ivan to return to the system he hates so much, all for mizi. from basic color psychology, red is the color of passion and temper, which is clear in how till makes decisions. he makes his hatred for alien stage known, but he is fueled by his desire for mizi to keep him from leaving.

Hyuna vs. Luka

last one just cuz these two now have a confirmation over what their relationship was (my guess: hyuna showed a very isolated luka some affection, luka grew obsessive and plotted to kill hyuna's brother to have her attention on him) with luka being alien stage's biggest success and complacent with the system, hyuna stands on the opposing side by taking hold of her own freedom, even if that comes at the cost of her safety

(side tangent: i really dont like hyuna's design here. like its the color placement between the top and bottom and the weird gradient of blue to muddy green to cool yellow. dont even get me started on those shoes ... hell she doesnt even her outspoken nature. ear them in her own music video. but im including it just since its official artwork and hypothetically what she preformed with)

honestly hyuna sticks out so much more compared to everyone just due to the abundance of colors in her design. She only has some black, but there are various hues used throughout her design. Just about all the official art work for the other character depicts them in outfits with some black or white, with luka the most apparent by the balance of both colors.

luka looks almost artficial in how he wears only whites and blacks. its only furthered by his blonde lashes -- the only character with such a trait -- and especially the blues at his fingertips. hyuna in contrast is the only brunette of the series, and colors like brown are often associated with more earthly tones, making her seem more human than luka.

hyuna, like till, has no sleeves, showing some part of her outspoken nature. but to me, what hyuna and luka both share is their strong asymmetry. Hyuna through her sleeveless (???) tank top and luka aforementioned trail thing. they are at such polar opposite ends taht it could almost fall into instability

anyway off to manifest round 6 ending with hyuna and mizi rescuing till and ivan and then luka randomly exploding on the spot :3 (its probably gonna kill off till or ivan)

apologies for any bad grammer im too lazy to revise this

#alien stage #vivinos #alien stage sua #alien stage luka #alien stage mizi #alien stage till #alien stage ivan #alnst #character rambles

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gumballavocadoharry · 8 months

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A white house with a picket fence:

*MerylStone is a made up town in Vermont, Woodstock*

The sky skirted itself on the horizon of nightfall, emitting glints of stars; beaming like mood lights wrapped around the headboard of a teenage bedroom. Even the mellowness of nature, couldn't halt the clamorous roars of the incessant debate over your son, Lincoln's curfew. "Lincoln, for the last time! You're only 18 years old! You don't need a midnight curfew." Harry shouted from across the couch. Lincoln huffed and stormed to his bedroom without saying another declaration. Harry plopped down, hands smacking into his face, his breath huffy and shaky.

The faded ghosts of your husband's slipper marks bored a loud tense firmament throughout the living room.

"Why do kids think once they're 18, they're adults?" He sighed, "Don't they know how hard it is out there?" You swallowed gasps of breaths that you always held inside like gas in a balloon during tense engagements; something that you've learned in your youth. You squished next to Harry on the couch; almost on cue, started rubbing his shoulders and back. "He'll come around honey....it just takes time."

"Yeah, well too much," A gulp escaped Harry's throat, "What's out there that we can't give here? I mean....we gave him so much freedom...what is it that he wants?" Even you had to shrug to that. "I don't know. Maybe he sees his friends with their own apartments, going to college, being away from their parents and...." You stopped yourself. "What, you think he's tired of us?" Harry's voice sprung more hostility than he wanted. "I think he just needs some space." A correction to your first thought is what Harry wanted to hear in this moment.

You didn't want the thought to echo in your head for too long; Lincoln has his own job, money, he just saved up and bought a car and not to mention the legal status of his age had given him a birthright advantage.

It petrified you and you knew it did Harry as well; just the inkling of Lincoln's moving away from home, your only child stuck something unpleasant in you. All the time, energy, emotion and love that you invested into your best investment would now crave something more than the walls of his juvenile home; something better, better relationships, ones he would devote endless time to. Not even batting an eyelash to his parents, but to the friends who could only show him desire vs the worldly wisdom from his parents. The realization was gut wrenching in itself but the duplicitous fantasy that this was all stemmed for parental love ate away at the truth.

You knew deep down, what haunted your thoughts, what made your blood run cold was the idea of Lincoln forgetting you and Harry; other relationships would cloud his mind, leaving nothing but hollow postcards of updates from his life. Picturing the unruffled but customarily greeting written in black cursive ink, with only a memo of his life so far with a picture flipped to the back of an older version of your son, black sweater, coffee cup, kids curling on his lap, wife positioned only slightly above his shoulders, would highlight a missing piece of his life; once forgotten and discarded like old news clippings with no purpose.

Little did you know, Lincoln had been listening to the conversation you were having with Harry. The boy's blood boiled, mind caviling at the thought of being chained here the rest of his life. Like a house arrest without an official seal of proof. Chafing at the lack of support for his own liberty, but aiding to their own selfish whims gritted Lincoln's teeth. Years of protesting to this very moment, to these years....were finally coming to an end. Tonight, Lincoln would self free from his sentence and he would finally grapple things differently. His foot moved patiently across the hallway, like he was in no hurry to challenge his stone locked mind. He had a car, money and the night to guide him through this plan.

Sitting at his desk was the first things his eyes scanned to. The desk lamp illuminated the circling dust particles that would land invisibly onto the grainy dark maple desk top. Lincoln's eyes stood for a long time at the the second drawer; neighboured bellow the first tall skinny one. It carried his notebooks, packs of pencils and unopened highlighters, varying in every color of yellow, pink, blue, green, orange and purple. He took shy steps towards his chair, carefully pulling on the fringes of it and sitting down in it, adjusting himself to a comfortable writing stature. Lincoln's fingers gripped around a pen, snagging a notebook from a drawer and inched only a few centimeters away from the page. Holding the pen in his thumb and pointer strictly, he wrote out a small introduction.

The sound of his heart beating echoed like a drum throughout the bedroom. Ballpoint making its way across the paper, scattering out years worth of pent up angst. The sudden open of Lincoln's bedroom door reflexed him to crumbling up the paper and shoving it into bin under his desk. An easy investment against walking across the room or slingshotting a paper only to miss and have to pick it up in the first place. "Lincoln.." Harry stuttered on his words, "It's time for bed." His voice, guttural and his eyes scanning the dark room for anything that could spark an argument. But nothing: the bed was made perfectly, the floors were spotless, desk was clear and so was Lincoln's face; calm, relaxed and deadpan. Lincoln gave a simple nod, settling himself up from the desk and walking out in the middle of his bedroom.

He waited till the door closed and Harry's footsteps grew father and father away. Lincoln grabbed his robe, pulling the strings and using it as a clasp for the door by tying one end to the leg of the desk and the other to the doorknob. He tore another piece of paper from his most used orange notebook. It was a study one he had picked out himself, wanting to make the most of its use for his notes on binary and coding. The ballpoint of the pen positioned itself onto the paper before writing a carefully crafted goodbye. The once diluted blossom sky mixed in a orange powder now was a somber cloak of dark maroon blue. Looking out the window were only half appearing house silhouettes and the faded glow of the end corner streetlights. Something Lincoln would rely on once it came to moving fastly out of the driveway.

Sealing the letter on the desk, lying lifelessly, Lincoln now turned his attention to his closet. Grabbing his duffel bag and shoving shirt after shirt, jeans after joggers, sneakers after loafers and even the small accessories; watches, wristbands and rings were all sealed into sandwich bags. The closet was empty. Only a few hangers swayed silently in the shadow on a vacant little rack that held dress shirts, t-shirts with crazy designs of cats and lightning bolts and pants of all types shoved into the little drawers above.

Next, the hidden piggy bank. It was really a jewelry box his mother gifted him as a purpose of hiding all his action figures. But now filled in it was hundreds of dollars. Maybe even more than that. Lincoln didn't hesitate to shove the rolls of hundreds into little sandwich bags and stuffing his wallet with 500 dollars, sliding it in perfectly as if the wallet had carved out spaces for the thick stacks of paper to be slickly slid in without hesitation. The dust particles zig zagged around as the body of Lincoln was all over his bedroom, gathering every possible and necessary thing to show with him on his journey. His backpack, filled with textbooks and his notebooks from his desk.

The desk lamp, nick nacks, scissors, pencils, pens, markers, whiteout....everything that had a resemblance to Lincoln being on that desk was now gone. His whole bedroom with exception of his bed, comforters, and the desk and chair itself was empty and hollow. Like Lincoln was never there at all. The cell phone that had a tracker on it- installed by his parents- was now dead. Shoved into the same box where his action figures lied. He had gifted himself a new cell phone, new laptop, new tablet....nothing could make his parents find his empty tracks. There would be none. Only the lingering scent of his presence that now had vanished into the simple mist of air that his fan blew lightly into the mucky humid bedroom.

Lincoln turned off the desk lamp, closed the blinds, untied the door and hung the note in full view on the front door of his former bedroom. As he sighed, Lincoln glanced one last time at the childhood home he once knew and loved before closing his bedroom door quietly and tiptoeing down the stairs. He disarmed the alarm of the house and walked out without so much as a goodbye. The street was tranquil, only the sounds of crickets were heard. As Lincoln's eyes adjusted to the dark, the houses then appeared. The aromatic husky smell of the night sent waves of calm through Lincoln. He kept his feet solid on the pavement, taking quiet yet shattered steps from the walkway of the house, down to the garage where he kept his used dark gray chevy. The keys jingled slightly from opening the car door and then being plugged into the emission.

The sound of the car starting made Lincoln flinch. But nothing. No one woke, nothing but the sound of sleep and hollowness. Slamming the car door, Lincoln pulled from the driveway, swerving his tires to the main road and stepping on the gas, breaking free from the neighborhood. One last look to the house that sat so perfectly, so white, so big and sheek with its flowered bushes and fancy exterior that matched its neighboring houses styles. The hue that once glowed there had now burned out. Exhausted itself into just another house on a fancy road. Mom and Dad's house. Lincoln had already left mentally, but it was his physical appearance that would have to relinquish.

The morning was quiet. Peaceful. Like any other morning for a picket fence home. You were quiet, having already seen Lincoln's 'surprise' on his bedroom door and then opening it to see emptiness broke inside of you. You just didn't show it. You kept it hidden; festering it inside until it could explode at the right time. You let Harry sleep in as you did with keeping the note on the door for him to discover himself. Instead, you busied yourself with the morning dishes, cooking an English breakfast. The voice of the alarm blaring and the creak of the bed grew into a warm patch on the back of your neck that slugged down to your legs and back. It was numbing and heating in a juxtaposition way. You carefully listened to Harry's footsteps trail over to the right: Lincoln's room. The footsteps stopped for a few moments.

"He's reading the note." you thought. The jiggle of Lincoln's doorknob opening and the pattering of Harry's footsteps trailing into his room like a cave with hidden treasures. There was silence. The same one that smothered the clattery of Lincoln's midnight departure. Your face went cold. Eyes dazed and body in a stillness, not knowing the next step of your husband's reaction.

"Looks like the boy held to his promise." Harry thought. You, turning off the stove, setting the pans aside, goose stomped upstairs in jointace with your husband. But his face was just as casual as yours. No matter how hard you tried, the ringing of Lincoln still hung dry in the room. His bed, just perfect the way he left it. Except it was cold, straight...not one wrinkle in between the sheets of covers.

The desk lamp was still bended in its crooked position. Hunched over the desk counter, sitting alongside with the empty cubbies and dead pictures. Pictures that represented milestones in Lincoln's life. The sailboat Harry helped hang up for 3 year old Lincoln, newspaper clippings framed as a decor for his mystery phase of 12 year old Lincoln, 17 year old Lincoln- just a year ago- hung a lion picture. The only picture that was taken along with Lincoln but not the rest. They all stared at the broken pair of you. Like they grew eyes and taunted you like a buzzing fly that wouldn't leave the room no matter what.

The closet was empty. Any signs of Lincoln were dead. Like he never existed in this room. A sudden grown dread ran though you, leaping you from Harry's side and opening the bottom dresser drawer and snatching out the jewelry box. Opening it was the dead cellphone you had gifted him for his 16th birthday. You and Harry- like all the other cellphones you gave your son- had decided that the rule would be no different. It was never discussed with Lincoln, but always just there. Like it was attached to the cellphone when you bought it fresh from the apple store. He never questioned it, but somehow you knew he hated it. But there it was. Dead. Like Lincoln's bedroom. The life that was in it had dissipated with him. It was like a slap in the face. A reality check warning you were you were headed. Now its too late.

Lincoln was gone and god knows where he could be. What could you do? Call the police? Force them to bring a legal adult back home to his Mommy and Daddy? A gap of air went down with your tears. You swallowed them, ate at them and ignored them. But they still came out anyway. Your mascara smudging, traveling down your cheeks like a riverbank. You couldn't turn and face Harry. It would only make him mask more of his pain. A feeling you both hated to admit to yourselves.

"Well, I'm hungry." Harry walked past you, swishing a rampant of coolness past him. He was so nonchalant and aloof like he had just saw any old car scamper down the street. His son, his child was gone, nowhere to be seen, and this was his reaction. Broad fury infatuated you before dying down at the command of your mind. It just didn't seem like a battle worth fighting for. Walking down the hall now felt ominous and cleft. Like someone had ripped out a chunk of the house and planted a graveyard, burying Lincoln's body in it. Your stomach felt queasy yet empty. The wooden floors were cold and creaky, the stairs felt uneven and crooked like you were walking on floating rocks. The whole house felt dead. Cold, sterile and lifeless. The presence that once filled this house with chroma; giving complexion to the interior of it had bleed itself onto wherever Lincoln was.

Your feet stopped at the door frame of the kitchen. Harry was munching away on the toast that was set in front of him, sipping his coffee, catching up with the lastest on google news. Half of you wanted to slap him so hard that it would ricochet the sense of the matter into him. While the other half wanted to bungle up into his arms and cry copiously, choking on every breathe, gasping on every tear and squeezing some more out while he kissed the tiny stalks of hair on your scalp so deeply that you could feel his pointed lips puckering tightly, pressuring into your skin, whistling into a husky smooch once suctioned off.

But instead, you almost tripped on your own feet walking into the kitchen while Harry barely bat an eye. If he even cared enough to notice at all.

You turned your concentration towards the sink; eyes focusing on the single drips from the faucet, pulsing a beat on the sink floor with water beads lying all around it. It was the rolling sound your stomach made that made you grab a plate and plop the work of your family breakfast onto it. You sat directly across from Harry, staring down at your plate; bacon, two sunny side up eggs staring back at you, baked beans, fried tomatoes and toast just laying there lifeless onto your plate. Meanwhile, with the slithering glimpses of Harry just munching away at his breakfast like it was just any old morning. Like he had never ever known Lincoln, like he didn't exist was unpalatable in itself. You made it through breakfast barely, but upon stuffing your dishes into the sink, one of them slammed down harder then intended and broke a half of itself off.

Tears flooded your eyes; dropping the broken piece of stoneware into the sink and rushing to the phone. Your fingers, mucky, damp, thick with a bludgeoning adrenaline and fingertips dipped with humidity slowly dialed the numbers of Lincoln's number almost with the same carefulness a prisoner makes in calling the number of his lawyer or attorney. But it was just a hum of static on the other end. You dialed it again, static. Again, static.

No mistakes and no active number. Maybe more carefully.

"Hello? This is Parestake house, can I get a phone number for your order?" The lady's voice, dry and polite, but rather tired from the same busy rumination of answering with the same motto. But there was no response; hanging up without any apology for the wasting the time of someone completely oblivious to the situation.

Slamming the phone into its hook and sitting down on the couch to collect thoughts of what would eject Lincoln from this house so quickly, so quietly, yet so prepared. Like this wasn't a random thought....this was something that had been slithering through the depths of this house for a long time. Creeping through the brain of Lincoln for longer than you and Harry were led to believe. You and him both knew where you stood on Lincoln's heavily monitored independence. The words "I'm moving out" would've knocked a bitter drip into you. Like poison medicine in an IV drip. Springs of arguments would've poured out into the house, booming into threats, a fury of words that would have spilled from Harry's mouth and slapping Lincoln in the face with them. He knew that.

So he left quietly and quickly like a mouse of the night just like he wanted. No regrets and no returns.

Lincoln had settled himself nicely into his apartment. The space had been sitting empty for a solid month. The landlord didn't argue with the young and less experienced tenant upon realizing the boy was a lot smarter and prepared than his prejudiced mind had allowed him to comprehend. Lincoln being one of the youngest residents in the building was one of the mildest. Never throwing loud parties, no loud music, complaints didn't exist and above all, just a forgettable neighbor. Accompanying inside his new home was a calm iguana, Orb. Despite not having a couch, dining table or bed yet, Lincoln still made the small space a home; old bedroom pictures hung the walls of his bedroom, and the desk nick nacks were the new decor of the living area.

Taking his money and setting the groups of hundreds down on the table, organizing them into rent, electronics, food, lighting, furniture, and heating for those colds winters. Gas was complimentary of the landlord. Using a blow up mattress, Lincoln still made it up like it was the real thing. After all, he took pride in the freedom he now had. Despite being materially poor.

But that would soon change once Lincoln got his footing. A lot could happen in a years worth of time.

The blustery blossoms were rattled by the gusts of spring air that circled through the block. The white house sat empty, and you had sat emptier on the bed in your bedroom, watching Harry walk back and forth by you, straightening his tie for work. A voice in you broke; not knowing where it was coming from. "I tried calling Lincoln yesterday..." Your voice drifted to the fireplace, your glance finally turning your head there. Harry stopped for a moment before returning his attention to his tie. "And?" His voice, rasp with that albion accent, but still enriched with some sternness. "He didn't respond," You looked towards the fireplace again, "I think he changed his number in fact."

"He didn't call or text at all? No response from him whatsoever?" Harry questioned. His voice beckoned slight alarm. You shook your head. "Nothing." Harry bit the side of his lip. "Maybe...." Harry looked up to you. You took a deep breath and sighed, swallowing any rising fear because you knew what your husband's reaction would be to such a notion.

"Lincoln is 18...he's almost an adult. Kids leave for college around this age. If he did move somewhere, it was most likely with a friend or someone he trusts?" Even you and Harry couldn't deny that Lincoln was very trustworthy. A good kid, something you both took for granted. Lincoln cared just enough about pleasing his parents. That was it at the the end of the day....pleasing..not worshipping.

You could see Harry's anger through the collar of his shirt. His vein bulged out from his neck, throat pushing down a hard scoop of vile. "Maybe...but we're still calling the police if he doesn't want to respond." You couldn't deny the way Harry said it. He meant it to assert control. Something that he would never get in this situation. "We could...." Your husband turned to you. But you just sent him a shrug. Harry pierced his eyes into you like needles, before shaking his head collecting his suitcase. You swallowed your ideas and watched from the window as Harry's dark cherry red Honda left the garage and drove down the street.

You stumbled back over to the bed, plopping down and fiddled with the silver diamond studded band that held a decent sized diamond on your left hand, ring finger. How embedded it had been into your hand for the past 28 years. How hard it was for you to get it. Woodstock, Vermont. Your hometown, raised by your father in the sleepytown of MerylStone. The rich blanket of green grass that sprouted stalks upon stalks of it over the hills of the countryside, shining and echoing its sunny glow in the inaugural of summer. You remembered it there with some fond memories.

The big brick house on Swiva Street; its white window panes and shutters, the creaky swingset in the backyard, the arenaceous walkway -that was covered over in concrete that one summer- that led right up to the house and the shrubby bushes on either side of the house that your late mother's roses would spring out of every spring. Pa called it "heaven's little gift for taking your Ma." Your father worked as a workshop teacher at the local high school you attended. You had this allure towards books, science, biology. Potential to be something of your own credit. But Pa had his own idea of you; living in the house, baking cookies, feeding the children, catering to a husband freshly picked from the rounds of other 'good country boys' in the town.

"I'm not sure if biology is a major you can keep up with baby girl," Your causal sideway look eyerolls were a ritual whenever Pa's old fashioned aims vexed you. "Home Ec is more your speed, other girls would love to take this class! What's wrong honey? Don't you wanna learn how to sow a proper dress?" You would learn: by books, demonstrations or something else besides a dainty old class meant for girls. Only girls.

Stuffing the advice, you took the Home Ec classes to save face of your father's job. But college was different. You had your life set in stone; independent from you father's plans. "Yn, you don't need no college education. It's just a waste of money. You just settle yourself down with a nice boy, like Landon Pines only a few blocks up the street. You'll make a lovely housewife and mother...I'm sure of it." The thought of settling in this town is what thrusted your hands faster in packing away your clothes and everything else in between into two large suitcases, two duffle bags and a backpack. "Yn I-"

"Pa....look. I just don't want that for myself right now. Maybe someday in the future, but not now. I wanna be something more than that." And lord knew the backwards town would support a notion like that. How scuffling it was just to learn to drive. Pa lightened up when his heart started weighing him down. Driving him to the hospital quieted him just a little about keeping your 'little fingers' off the wheel. Pa looked into your soft eyes. His hands touching your cheeks, realizing this meant goodbye. Goodbye for good.

You'd much rather prefer the busy nightlife of New York or Boston, California or London. No old dirt or grassy fields. Instead, being replaced with thick walls of buildings that would tower a shadow over the city. From there, it was London. The college you had accepted on first invite. Your last year was when you had met Harry. His adze emerald orbs, Clark Kent curls, deep crater dimples and bunny smile. A financial planning student, locked eyes with you in study hall. Harry's deep reasoning of the world drew you in like bee to a flower. Harry, would invite you into his dorm to 'study'; painting the walls of his first apartment, a honeybee yellow before curling up into his satin navy blue sheets. And even after graduation, Harry saw a future with you.

His company of boomed, exploding within the first couple months of his investment and savings. But Harry didn't need riches, he had them already planted into his family seed. Gemma, his sister inherited her share before taking off to her journalism passion. "Now don't you two get into any trouble." Harry's mother, Anne, would state. Although, delivered in a playful manner, the pair both knew exactly what she meant. The Styles family were of an aristocrat sort, priding their name with glory and perfection, to the best they could deliver. It was something codeded into Harry's blood. Into Gemma's blood, Anne's....and soon, Yn's. You had taken the family name at the tender age of 25. Harry scraping by only a year her senior.

Your acceptance into the Styles family uprooted uproar. Not from Anne, no. But Pa. "You're engaged! To him!" Was his reaction upon hearing of his daughter wanting to marry a one of the supercilious type. But Harry's cavaliering ways were non-existent. He showed Pa the upmost respect, even when the normally mellowed man would patronize him with the most derogatory and yokel allegations. "Yn, what's wrong with Bruce Candem or Holt Jackner?" You shrugged those suggestions off, "They're not my type."

"But this macaroni is? He's no strapping treasure. Is that how you are? Some little macaroni?" Your face grew hot and sweat dripped from your temples. The blazing sun was no way to discuss this manner. "I guarantee...he'll leave ya! Just you wait Yn...he'll find someone who will satisfy him and then it'll be over!" But you had already ran from the hill and into a taxi cab, shooting you straight back to Boston, where a new home was waiting for you and your new husband. The last you saw of Pa was when he made a debut at the wedding, dragging along country folk that you had outgrown years ago. Their bleak minded views were no longer holding reign to your now freed polished and worldly ones. It had fizzled inside of you since birth and being born in the wrong place was just a simple mistake.

Your face grew tomato colored, glancing over to see your rustic souvenirs from the past, give harsh glares to the modern world of Harry's family. You tried to pay no attention; settling your eyes on Harry's green ones before sealing your vows with a kiss.

The twinkle of the wind chimes from Mrs. Laundbary's front porch sent a cooling sensation through you. It was like you could smell from the glass of the pine from the trees, the dew of the grass and the tickle of the wind. The house; tranquil, capacious...silent. No one home. You were alone in the midst of a blank home. Paintings hung with shiny timber or aureate frames, vases sculpted from scarce stones and decor hanging over the white walls, shadowing their singular designs over the home. Your footsteps into the hallway echoed like those of an empty museum. Cold, tense, fragile; everything too expensive to touch. They all represented Harry's taste: the derelict of stabling a proper piece of sentimentalism.

Even in your morning gown, your body still couldn't tug the wrap of such lavish silk. Like a stranger's body had morphed itself into this home, the surreal life. A home you knew well from physical travel. The ins and outs of the kitchen, the walk-in closet you and Harry shared, the master bedroom; a lounge to you and Harry and the well sunlit backyard patio; barbeque roasts, pool parties and simple sunbathing while Lincoln cavorted away in the backyard. But all this, the white mansion, the sumptuous neighborhood...nothing felt like your own. Just Harry's. It could've been yours. Maybe better.

You still had your degrees; hung somewhere in the basement with nothing for it to live under. Harry was the CEO of, Styles Inc. The multi million dollar corporation that catered to cars, planes, buses, trains, lavish transportations. Once that had happened, why bother working? Stay home, tend to the house, care for the plants, cook the meals, maybe even bake a cake just for the sake of it...at least that's what Harry said. He didn't mean it to be a step down for you; putting dollar bill after dollar bill into your hard earned education, to prove to yourself and your lout old town that a woman could be something more than their society of bumpkins. But...it was a waste. Escaping the prison of MerylStone, only to land yourself back into what your father had envisioned from the start halted you.

It wasn't until a week after Pa's funeral; the testator had assigned for you to clear out the home of your father, which meant a plane ride from Boston to Vermont. The old brick house hadn't changed a bit. The dusty tan welcome mat had eerily saved its writing still in its bought condition. The old windchime had pieces missing like those of broken teeth. The country hillside, the lush blanket of grass was now just grass. An empty home sitting below the little hill wasn't so cute anymore. Now..abandoned. You'll never forget the chill of your spine that slithered itself inside of you, as you cleared away everything that coincided your father ever being here.

Your old bedroom, still had its shadows from your old posters. Being in the ghosttown of the house gave you the same feeling walking into Lincoln's dead bedroom. The moving men packed your father's old things into boxes, moving the heavy things like couches, beds, and heavy dresses into moving trucks with your instructions. But before taking the old grainy nightstand by Pa's bed, you opened it to find his old bible with the red page sides pressed together into this bulky red velvet line. Just the feel of the soft leather brought you back into your senses. Memories of college, woodshop class in highschool, Home Ec....they all marked you into this person of who you wanted to be. So caught in day to day life of being a housewife, that you had slowly sunken into this mold of a lie. Pa was right....despite marrying rich, despite all your biology studies, London college......you still became nothing more but just a housewife.

Slamming the bible down into the drawer, you husked yourself out of the house, over the hill and into the rental car, speeding off to the nearest airport. You foot heavily pressed to the pedal, mind flashing in different directions all afraid to go to the one that haunted you the most. Pa was dead...there was nothing more to prove. The ring somehow tightened around your finger. Maybe to yourself? Harry was the one you loved happily ever after right?

He was at the office, as usual. It was just business...it was always business. Signing checks, business meetings in Colorado, Canada, Ohio and whatever you could think of. But he was home before you; coming back in the evening, settling your sunflower hat down on the rack, ripping the heels from your feet, unbuttoning the first two buttons of your light pink dress shirt and running your fingers through your thick strands. "He's really gone Harry. Pa's dead," You looked toward the window, "If you could get hedges in the morning, that would be nice." Harry just stood there, washing his dinner dishes. That was all to be said about Pa ever again.

Harry typed away at his computer, the usual smell of lavender hitting the edges of the office. There sat a tilted slightly mahogany framed picture of you and Lincoln. No sight of himself, but on purpose, as this was just something to remind him of those long work hours. The sight was a refreshing reminder to "not get into any trouble." The grayish colored room was nothing new to the CEO. Harry had been in and out of these rooms for as long as he could remember. There was nothing special of it as he knew this is where he would be. There was nothing else. His only partner that filled him day to day was empty hidden bottle of vodka under the desk. It helped him focus on some days when his hours just didn't numb the world out enough. Something he justified with layering the evening drink with his usual morning cup of joe.

He picked himself better than to be just another ritzy boy to snag off his parents loot without earning his name, his keep. Anne and Desmond boasted to him and Gemma to always make a name for themselves. Of course, they were entitled to as much money as their desires could carry, but nevertheless, it always thumped within the siblings to be their own Mr. or Mrs. Styles. The depths of their castle like mansion spoke volumes of its own. The posh interior of the house matched the cultivated taste of the family. The light gray walls were accented with light tealish blues and silver powdered with white. Those summers where the branched tickled the windows of the terrace and the lush poofy bushes looked like a painting hanging in a museum. The light gray house with a curve on the tip of the roof; racking its color in blush dark peach held the proper expectation to the public as did the inside.

Toying with the silver band on his finger, Harry finally racked up some numbers and matched them a check before clicking out for lunch. His breath was thick, eyes lumpy like they had been glued to a bright screen for days. They side eyed the picture, focusing closely on Lincoln. His preppy boy smile with his father's dimples and his mother's chin.

Those eyes, green and wide like his, but his nose and cheeks were rosey tinted like his mother's. Harry had underestimated the innocent little 8 year old he had known all his life. Those games of catch in the backyard, mushy bedtime stories and well calculated tactics of getting little Lincoln to eat half of his vegetables. The day Lincoln learned to crawl was when Harry's back was turned to the stove, heating up water in the boiling pot. He turned to see the giggling baby take rickety steps to his dad, before falling back down on the tiles to his little hands and knees. "Oooh!" Harry squealed, taking him in his arms and looking into his big eyes. "Did my little boy take his first steps?" Harry cooed, puckering his lips and kissing Lincoln's chubby cheek. Looking deep into his sugary eyes, not wondering what his little eyes were grasping, but more of what he was hiding from his father behind those cuddly looks.

It was shortly after you had lost Pa, the funeral had been now a solid 4 months behind you. Harry had been in his home office, figuring out the latest code for an account. The traction in the house was cabled. It was this thin wire of pondering looks and gagged words between the pair of you. Those stomach aches and backaches were nothing more than stress pins from what you were carrying in between. It wasn't until those 3 missed periods that you wheeled yourself to the doctors.

Sitting the cold unblemished waiting room of the obstetrician's office sent shudders through your gut. Goosebumps and raised hairs sprouted despite it being the dead of fall which prompted a sweater with slide on blue jeans and ugg boots. You tried to focus on the chipped white paint of your fingernails that had been wearing the color for almost a week and a half, instead of the fancy lab coats that swung by in the harmony with the nurses. Dr. Katz, your doctor swung by in her white lab coat, currant red blouse that was neatly tucked into the gray dress pants she donned and the clickety black high heels that clicked with every sophisticated movement. Grabbing files- your files- handing them off to nurses in their varying scrub designs with loose stethoscopes dangling around their necks, silver watches around their wrists, rolled up undershirts....the aesthetic was dreamlike. This was what you wanted....you remembered shadowing Dr. Hawke around the hospital before you had married Harry. The dream of being an established individual with a husband to side part you, not him just to show for your success.

Those sacrifices....were not something easy to let go of. Harry had promised to provide for you....but it wasn't enough. No, you needed the thrill of working, the smell of sterile hospital rooms was a second home for you, possibly a first one.

"Yn Styles?"

The name is what brought you back down to earth. A name that wasn't yours, only a jagged extension of something you had realized long ago. Those seven letter words flashed through your mind like a strike a lightning. Was it too late? Those years had become dull, hardened and pinching when understanding this was not what was expected from the vows of a man and woman. You kicked yourself for thinking of such an easy way out.

Pa was dead and the townsfolk were not completely eradicated from your memory. Word back home would be of a wiseacre from everyone who watched you walk away from their illiterate sleepytown and ram into this big city with better opportunities. Coming back to it, would confirm a thought you had shoved yourself to distance from. You had only yourself to prove to at this point.

But, on the call of the name, you still rose from the chair and walked to the exam room, taking a seat on the table.

"Well, Mrs. Styles..the reason for your missed periods is," Dr. Katz turned to her clipboard, grabbing a long paper and handing it to you, "You're pregnant." A pin dropped. "What?" You wanted to hear those words again. "You are 5 weeks pregnant." She pointed to the little indefinite fetus that had formed in your uterus. A smile transpired and you found yourself more animated. Once leaving the building, in the car, you took one last look at the hospital before throwing the ultrasound pictures to the passenger seat.

"No use for that now." You thought before turning the key and starting the engine. The light of the cloudy afternoon sky shined a glimpse of light onto the black and white picture of you and Harry's 18 year long project. Maybe...just maybe....it could spark something in between the pair of you again. You hoped.

Harry upon getting the news he would become a father delighted him. He questioned the wait of it, wanting to impose another name into the Styles inheritance. The nursery was all set, pictures of balloons, a bouncy yet firm crib, styled in the corner was large teddy bear, tied with a blue bow around his neck. The little detailed decor had come only after discovering that your baby was a boy. Lincoln Styles, was to be his name. Harry insisted it, the social plucking of someone with such an adjustable yet polished name suited someone of his variety.

The countless hours sitting at his desk, windling away at his computer, matching up number after number for accounts, upgrades for his machines and meetings discussing the latest car or train or bus. Following in Desmond's footsteps of being a businessman, Harry knew the unpalatable hours and the sharp work ethic he would have to acquire himself to. But he didn't mind. Seeing his company expand; rapid with his unsalable ideas and adroitness of the workplace. Fumbling over his pen, he caught a swift smell of Luna's, his secretary's perfume.

Luna herself was married with 4 children. Her husband, Hugh, a president of Sincomet, a rubber company, knew the ins and outs of CEO world, as he was tightly under one himself. But even more so, Luna understood the tough reign his job would contribute to the household. It was one Christmas party, an office one that was held at the Parkstor Community Center, she had revealed her upbringing was one of the same polished ave as her boss's. "My mother had old money, but my father ran this clothing design company. It was passed down to him from decades of other relatives." Her mention of this was brought up when Harry had shared his very much indistinguishable childhood himself. Hugh was of the same material; sharing knowing glances with his wife of how aware they were of each other.

Luna and Hugh connected like lego blocks of a puzzle. Both of the same refined culture they cherished near to their hearts..but it was the understanding of a certain way of life that fully brought perspective to them.

You stood by the punch bowl, glancing towards you husband, taking casual sips of punch. Harry looked down at his loosely laced shoe lace on his black loafer. Eyes squirming to you bleakly before gunning down to the floor again. Your beach style white dress was nothing compared to Luna's burgundy Ralph Lauren dress that hung elegantly above the knees that were covered by black sheer pantyhose. It was her apparel that made Harry question himself why she would be working such a banausic secretarial job, when she could be home enjoying the generosity of her riches. She had a strong work ethic. Busying herself with the day to day tasks of answering phone calls, scheduling meetings and lunches, rather than sitting in a dusky house all day.

The contrast effect of the two housewives was risible. Taking shattered looks to you and then Luna, sparked a quivering thought into Harry's mind. If it wasn't for your siren call in college; painting that old apartment, the effusive intimacy in those silk sheets, the way Harry traced those curves, remembering them like a map of a hidden path in the brazilian forest and those tender winter blue kisses on his lips and cheeks. If all that didn't' exist, then.....would he have married a Luna type?

Someone of the same social class, same upbringing- knowing the tight views of acceptable - or having a refined definition public. Never having to keep watchful eye of his spouses history in a hick town with her hillbilly of a community. She would fit right in with the Styles clan; having a well rounded view of society and money. Really, your own merit of sophistication is what united the two of you in the first place. Harry took a risk at 26 as did you; sealing in vows that wouldn't make sense only a year from when they first came about. It was the then, that he dragged you out of the party, mouth ajar like he wanted to speak, but suckled in his the last of his energy for the night. "Did Preston sign the account?" Harry, eyes steeled on the road, knuckles white and solid on the wheel, still managed to shake out a: "Yes darling, yes he did."

Putting his hand on your thigh, forcing a rush through his body like heroin. He pinched this tight smile together, showcasing enough of his little boy dimples, but his eyes were nuanced and dingy. It would remain that way until you both arrived home with different states of mind.

The hope didn't return until those faded black and white images of a fetus came into view. Finally, a son to show for the Styles family business. Harry still remembered that partially flowy cream sweater with stone washed jeans that bidded a flourish of appreciation in him. The way the sweater flowed over your bump but still hugged it enough to show how protruding it was lit his eyes like a child in toy store. Lincoln's birth was the best thing in the world for you both. Adapting your attention to your new addition wasn't at all a difficult. Glady devoting time to bottle feedings, late night diaper changes and playdates. Teddy bears filled his bed and toys filled his bedroom. You and Harry had developed your own relationship with Lincoln with an unspoken agreement. This was the heart of your marriage. A piece that brought it together.

But it didn't. Once the diaper days were long gone, and those preschool and kindergarten dreams fizzled, you were left with a newly independent pre-teen. One who finally saw all the cracks of his seemingly perfect life and was now on a countdown to escape. This parental involvement wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Just two parents of any only child that put them more on the overprotect radar. Didn't matter though; like all the other parents in the world who were well informed of the risks that came with children were not to been given an excuse for such lackluster discernment on their kids. But yours and Harry's was different of course, like always. Working hard to convince Lincoln that his cocoon was nothing mere than a close relationship with his parents and this was the requirement.

But....who were you kidding. The kid saw like glass on how proprietorial his parents were. The reasoning became clearer to him, seeing other kids and their parents affectionate relationship. You knew he would. One incident of Lincoln meeting Susan Blakely. The coffee color of her long hair that hung so effortlessly to her waist with perfect curls that bounced at the end. Lincoln had been invited to her party, seeing him as eye candy was a mutual feeling they shared. The quiff Lincoln styled his brown curls into, the leather jacket that studded sophistication into it and his dark blue jeans, not too snug or loose, but hung just right above his black sneakers.

"You look so handsome!" Lincoln, trollied down the stairs; eyes abstracted on the front door. Harry's car was nowhere to be found in the driveway or garage, the only way Lincoln could make such a hasty escape with a settled acceptance from you. Shortly after Lincoln made a route from the house to Sam's car- a friend who had a license compared to the rest of the group- Harry's honda pulled into the garage. The house, dim, throttled like the air had been sucked dry. The slow but base footsteps followed the shadow of light into the kitchen. It made you stomach burn into this knot, poking at it like jilted feeling of not being able to do something that had to be done. It wasn't until Harry spotted your figure standing over the sink, washing dishes, daring not to make eye contact afraid of the first words being garotted out.

"Where's Lincoln?" You gave a side eye back glance, not fully looking into those stiff green eyes, but only his shadow that stood peering only over the stovetop. "At a party," It was like a gun being held to your head, forcing you to spill a dirty secret of a close friend. "But, I told him it was okay. I knew Susan's mother so, it's fine." You bit your tongue, punishing it for speaking out of term. "Susan? A girl?" You finally faced Harry, dropping the cup into the sink. "You know how much trouble they could get into! Yn how could-" Harry jolted himself to the coat rack, grabbing the keys from his coat pocket. "Harry, stop! It's not a big deal! Isn't my word enough? You'll embarrass him." Harry only glanced at you before buttoning up his long black trench coat. "You know we both have to verify things Yn." He coldly stated before zipping out the door and into his car.

The waiting was the worst part. Fingers tapping against the arm of the chair, drumming up its own melody of anticipation. The same one you had sitting in the bathroom that one night to confirm what you had already knew from Dr. Katz. Those two lines appeared like magic across the test, still shuddering this surrealness into you like it was the first time. Like the ultrasound had somehow made a mistake in diagnosing your pregnancy. The booming of the front door opening rocked your attention towards a furious Lincoln and a concerned Harry. Lincoln glanced at you as if to say: "Why did you tell him? Did he really have to know?" Before storming up to his room, cold shouldering Harry on his way up.

"I offered to take him to laser tag tomorrow afternoon." You shook your head, "He's a teenager Harry, he wants to spend time with his friends." "I'm his friend? Right?" Harry looked for any signs of agreement on your face. But your eyes, were just tired. Tired of the same broken record that played out not to poles apart from this. "What happened?" A deep sigh finally eradicated from your mouth, blowing out the wind from your lungs like you were too scared to even ponder the outcome of what you knew to be an explosive event.

Lincoln sat bitterly on his bed. His used up sneakers curled up on the floor by his closet, his leather jacket shot over to the back of his swivel chair and his glare still edging throughout the room. His father; downstairs telling his mother a stagnant version of the event, curveting over the little details that complete the puzzle.

Lincoln, making his move over to Susan, laughing, chatting and then kissing. Kissing her with passion, not daring to take a step in the wrong direction, but just savoring the touch of her strawberry lips. Pulling away, he spots this thick black coat walking towards him, mix matched with all the other shambles of kids circling around the party making this figure stand amongst them. Harry didn't yell, or scream or riot. But he simply looped his arm around his son's and dragged him out without a word. The flashes of faces staring out at this eccentric scene became spotted. Heat filled Lincoln's face: part with infused fury and the other with disregarded shame. The car ride was rigid; Lincoln faced the window, not speaking what ran so rapidly through his mind. Swallowing back any grimaces that could trace any more rebellion to him. Instead, Harry suggested laser tag which sent Lincoln shooting from the car and into the house.

He noticed how dry his lips were, recalling those last moments of innocence. The 16 year old would now realize just how twisted things would get and how this was just a mere act. An act of rebellion from his father as well. The wheels turned like car tires, rolling through a freshly paved road in the country in Lincoln's brain. His suspicions of his parents were just much more than to be brushed off with basic teenage angst....it was more sinister than that. The picket fence became discolored, chipped, cracked, broken....the lie couldn't be covered. Harry's fatherly concern was just a big six wheel game. His reputation, was a part of him. And with it, his lies. They're precious angel was just a fine line between the couple. A broken chance of coming together. They needed Lincoln. He understood. They needed him way more than he did. He was their last hope, without him, the marriage would just be a slash to the Styles clan, and hickey on your neck for MerylStone to be blasted long and wide for everyone to realize, you and Harry were just not the match made in heaven you both thought yourselves to be.

"I thought he'd be at work," Lincoln said aloud to himself, "I thought he was working late. He always does when it's Friday."

Harry and Lincoln wrestled on it the most, but you had this understanding. This knowledge of the whole view. You and Pa, working against his efforts to mold this housewife out of you and now Harry and Lincoln. Pacifying him, molding him to full dependence on you both. Making everything into a fool's paradise. Pa's only good reasoning was ignorance, but this was a well calculated, instituted masterplan. Lincoln became another life to you. He possessed this barrier between you and Harry; working together to keep the one lifeline of this family incased to his parents. Such a selfish plan was sure to face a humiliating defeat, but you didn't care. Neither did Harry. Plastering the name of good parents onto his reputation when he couldn't even get his own son to stay.

Willing to offer his son's life for his own was pure repulsive. You had realized that, the night Lincoln turned 18; a stabbing coolness in your back and sharp pinging kick told you this was it. Things were going to end and fast. And now, he's gone. Just like that into the night. No goodbye, no I love you....nothing. Because in the end, that's what you gave him. You and Harry....nothing. Those nights, hearing your panging yelling and Harry's screeching temper, seeped Lincoln under the dining room table. You knew the boy was smart, you knew he was fighting to survive, you knew he wasn't just this ungrateful brat who whisked himself away over some petty curfew hustle.

No. You and Harry were the problem. The toxic wasteland that threatened to rip the sanity from the only sane person in this house. Lincoln did what you and your husband could never....walk away.

He knew the truth, he didn't cheat or cover it. But simply left it out in the open and accepted it for what it was worth.

You grabbed the family portrait, looking it dreadfully in the eyes before slamming it down to the ground while a scream left your voice. Harry arrived back to see the broken glass and the disgruntled look on your face. Tears finally broke free, slashing their way down your cheeks. "You did this!" You yelled, practically spitting the words into Harry's face. "You drove our baby away! He was fine, he was happy! But you couldn't stand to let go! Now he's gone and you don't even care! You didn't cry or feel sorry, nothing! You're never letting go!" Catching your breath, "You know I didn't want this! I know what you think everyday going to work everyday! You know what I think and wonder!"

"Yes I do!" Slamming his suitcase down the the floor, papers scattering everywhere in the living room. "I am sad yn! I know why he left, I know all of that! He's my son! I love him! And you know that!"

"You couldn't stop being selfish! I wanted to let go! I wanted to take the parental controls off his phone, I wanted to let him drive at 16, I wanted to let him go to his friend's party! But you said no! Because he's your little safety net! You couldn't think about him as a person! For once, you couldn't see him as more than a boy! Now he's gone and I can't see him! He ran away from us! HE LEFT US BECAUSE OF OUR PROBLEMS!" Grabbing the stone washed vase, smashing to pieces on the floor. "I want my baby back!"

Harry silently grabbed your arm silently. Tears, falling like rain drops on a car window, wettend Harry's face. He went to the wet bar, poured himself a scotch before speaking. "I'm sorry." His voice, so quiet and collected, yet so broken and shattered. You didn't waste time running into Harry's arms, sobbing quietly into each other. He took your chin to his eyes. "We'll fix this. We have to try, no more beating around the bush if this is gonna be fixed." You nodded. "Of course."

"And maybe one day....he'll come back....and we'll be better." You added. You could feel Harry smiling into your scalp, kissing it gently.

And you prayed you and Harry could. And that you could be that happy little family in a white house with a picket fence.

This took me a week to work on!!! Hope you liked it!!!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #dadrry #dad!harry #harry styles and yn #dysfunctional #harry fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles husband #harry ❤️ yn #harry and yn #harry x yn #harry x reader

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medschoolash · 2 years

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My two cents on Daemon and Rhaenyra's Sexual encounter

I'm nobody but I have a lot of thoughts about what went down between daemon and rhaenyra and the motives on Daemon's end so I'm just gonna put it all down here because why not.

So I've come to the conclusion that Daemon's actions are not abusive (contrary to what the creators said), not about a quest for the throne, and not completely without malicious intent.

I think to truly understand it all and how it fits into the story you have to understand a few key things:

Daemon has psychogenic erectile dysfunction ( more on that later)

Daemon has an unending desire to upset Viscerys but he actually does love him

Daemon cares about Rhaenyra deeply and always has

Daemon is sexually attracted to Rhaenyra

Daemon is impulsive and manipulative but he's not a complete idiot

When you combine all of those character points for Daemon his behavior this episode makes a lot more sense to me.

(if you know me from other fandoms you know I'm long winded so proceed at your own discretion lol )

Let's go back to the very beginning of the episode. Daemon returns from the stepstones. He's now a war hero. He's known as the dragon that conquered the narrow sea and saved the realm a headache. This is the most praise and adoration he's gotten in a long time. He makes a show of giving up his crown to Viscerys and pledging fealty to him once again and he smugly looks at otto when he's embraced by his brother again.

To me this is important because I believe Daemon's actions here are genuine at that moment. The creators said in this scene Daemon seems like a changed man to the audience which I can see on casual viewing BUT is he truly a changed man? The narrative proved that to be a huge no and really that was the only conclusion when none of his actual gripes with Viscerys have been resolved. Plus what's so different about Daemon now? When has Daemon ever not supported Viscerys's claim as king? When has he ever publically done anything but swear loyalty to his brother since he was crowned (no comment on dead baby aegon, he got no love from daemon lol). Nothing about it truly screams Daemon is changed so why does he do it? My opinion is that it shows he didn't actually go there to be duplicitous. He didn't return pretending to be someone he's not to deceive everybody. That's important in the bigger picture.

So Daemon hasn't changed BUT something has in fact changed in King's Landing. Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra is happy he's back. She actually follows him in the throne room. She wants to see him. In the garden, she approaches him first with the giddy but tries to play it cool presence of someone with a huge crush. She is starry-eyed in his presence and is eager to engage with him. Daemon looks at her walk away in the garden. His eyes are on her in part because he's curious (he noticed her stiff interactions with her father) and because it's the first time he's seen her in years and she's a woman now but he doesn't follow her. I think they deliberately showed us that in most ways that matter before the sexual encounter Rhaenyra is the chaser, not Daemon. That matters. Later Rhaenyra finds him again and he's soaking in the air in KL, another indicator that Daemon is possibly relieved to be home and is not here to cause chaos. Rhaenyra even straight up asks him why he's there because she knows him, she knows he likes to play games with her father so there has to be an agenda but is there? He says the comfort of home. I personally don't think there is one on his mind at that moment. The key part is he acknowledges her maturation for the first time and he discusses it in the context of physical appeal. She's blossomed into a beautiful young woman entering the stage of courtship. He notices. She realizes he notices.

They've always had a bond. She's always had a special hold over him and she's always looked at him like he hangs the moon but it was never something with any real clarity for Rhaenyra and never something that Daemon would ever acknowledge or act on but that's changed it has been 4 years. She's at least 18 now. She's at the stage of life where romance and sexual curiosity makes a bit more sense now even if she's still unsure about how to navigate that as a woman in westeros. So yeah It's different between them. Rhaenyra has changed and most of all they are both curious about what this tension is between them and how far it can go.

Before I move on to my next point I want to make sure I'm not misinterpreted here. I'm not saying Daemon has been creeping on her this whole time just counting the days until she's of age. I don't think he's ever said to himself "when she's 18 I'm totally gonna have sex with her". I don't think he has the thought to go there sexually with her until the moment he actually sees her again after she's matured.

That brings me to their one-on-one in the garden. This is an important part because I feel like Daemon's intentions after this conversation can make his actions somewhat within reason or absolutely horrible. Rhaenyra is very candid with him about her frustrations with having to marry. She feels like a broodmare with no sexual autonomy at all, just a pawn to be sold to the highest bidder for the use of her womb and her title. She feels like no one cares about what she wants, what she wants to do with her body. She's so averse to the idea that would prefer to live a life completely alone over having to marry and have all of her stripped away for duty. Daemon tries to assure her that all is not lost for her. Yes, it's a political contract but he basically tells her she does have power and autonomy within the confines of a marriage. She can do whatever she wants. She can control what does and doesn't happens to her. Having this power is clearly important to her. He also genuinely tries to alleviate her fears about having the same fate as her mother. He was there, he knows her grief and pain. She wants to take that trauma and become a recluse. He doesn't want her to fear a fate she can not truly control because it prevents her from ever experiencing the better parts of life. Solitude is lonely. He himself is married and he's still lonely. He doesn't want that for her. We can say it's familial affection or something even more but the key is I do not think that any part of this conversation, especially the last part, is a manipulative game to him. He's comforting her and trying to guide her in the right direction for her own good just as he's done several times before.

So this is the entire lead-up to their night out and sexual encounter. What part of this feels well planned? what part of this feels like a scheme or anything but a simmering curiosity and moment of honesty between two people who up to this point have only had a familial connection? The answer is none of it feels like a well-planned manipulation, not even in retrospect and it doesn't feel that way because in my opinion, it wasn't.

The first moment you can make a real argument that Daemon has done some plotting is when she arrives in her room and finds the clothing and the note. But even then the question becomes what exactly did he plan and why did he plan it? The more cynical perspectives floating around suggest that everything was daemon manipulating Rhaenyra to open her up to the night on the town, then he planted the clothes and the note to lure her away with the full intention of ruining her reputation for his own ploy for power. To me, this falls apart very quickly as an explanation despite what the creators implied (I'll get to that in a second).

As mentioned above hours ago they had a conversation where Daemon tries to tell Rhaenyra there is a lot more to the world she can enjoy versus resigning herself to solitude and misery. The truth of the matter is Rhaenyra is very green. She has been sheltered in the red keep her whole life. Her mother died at a crucial age. She has had no one to guide her through the confusing developmental aspects of adolescence. Daemon sees his role as a guide to help her reach a new level of understanding of the many forms of sexual expression and freedom that will ultimately liberate her from the confines of her gender and her station that she's been desperately fighting against this whole time. But why does he want to do this? Does he want to do it because her sexual awakening can be used as a tool to rise to power or does he do it because he actually cares about her and want her to actually feel empowered in this important way and he can conveniently also explore his sexual desire for her as well?

This is the most important question to ask in this entire analysis but this is also where the waters truly get murky making it difficult to answer the question. To me the most obvious answer is the latter but this is seemingly contradicted by the creators and by Daemon himself. I would like to argue that it actually wasn't.

Up until the point, he enters the brothel with her Daemon has been a comforting source of familiarity to Rhaenyra. He has shared vulnerable conversations with her. He tenderly held her hand at every moment and took her through the city watching her in amazement as she saw things she's never seen before. He has allowed all of this to go on while maintaining anonymity, which is crucial because it gives her freedom she otherwise would not have had. At no point did he ever come off as if he wanted to coerce her into something, he or was guiding her in a certain direction for a plan. It all seemed spontaneous and about exploration and most importantly they did as much as she wanted them to do. He is fascinated by her curiosity. He is enamored with her enthusiasm. Why behave like this if this was all a power play? if it was because he really really wanted to manipulate her then why would he stoop so low to hurt someone he clearly cares about for a throne he has never actually said he wants?

I've seen several takes that try to connect him taking her disguise off when his plan to expose her but even that falls apart quickly. He doesn't do it until they are deep into the brothel where they are less likely to be discovered. He also takes his own disguise off exposing himself. If he wanted to ruin her reputation all he needed to ensure was that she was seen in a brothel with someone. Making that someone actually him actually works against him in a long game. Even Viscerys points this out later with alicent. There was a small chance that daemon would be able to say "whoops I slept with her she's ruined not I have to be heir" or "whoops I slept with her and she's ruined not we have to marry" but remember my bullet points?Daemon is impulsive and manipulative but he's not a complete idiot. The much more likely outcome was enraging Viscerys who he has only been on solid footing with viscerys for a few hours, not even a whole day. Enraging viscerys would get him absolutely nothing. The only thing he gains is hurting Rhaenyra and Daemon cares deeply for Rhaenyra so it wouldn't be in character. Like I said even Viscerys acknowledges this and he's not the sharpest tool in the shed.

So if he gains nothing why is he doing this? How is this a power play for him and a power play he would be willing to engage in at the great expense of the only person he seems to actually care about? Maybe he just doesn't actually care about her that way. Maybe his care is not outweighed by his lack of morals and boundaries or maybe it's none of the above. Maybe there is a much simpler explanation for this entire ordeal.

I believe Daemon fully intended to push her sexual boundaries once they were in the brothel but I do not think his desire was to see her exposed while in that brothel to ruin her. I think he was just caught up in his own sexual desire for her and thrilled by the prospect of her liberation so he was callous about the entire thing and didn't care if she would be exposed because there is no real harm that can come. I don't even think he consciously thought about her being exposed in the moment but once presented with the issue it's never was a big deal to him. He even outright says this to viscerys. People whore, sure not women but Targaryens do. They are the blood of old valyria, they are dragon riders and rulers of the realm. They are above everyday conventions in society. They bed family members because they can. They whore because they can. They start wars because they can. The world is theirs for conquering and every aspect can be bent according to their will, including the truth and the truth is whatever viscerys says the truth is. Viscerys can decree his daughter is a maiden and whoever disputes it is treasonous and no one can defy him because well they have dragons. So no It was not calculated, it was just callous which fits into Daemon's personality perfectly and the difference between those two things is important when you're trying to put his actions into context. Also, if Daemon's plan was in fact to use Rhaenyra to gain power why did he even tell Viscerys he can just make it go away before the idea of a marriage even comes up? See the math isn't mathing.

This brings me to the most controversial part of their sexual encounter but the part that I think it the most fascinating. When Rhaenyra asks what is this place Daemon tells her it's where people come to take what they want. This is important for her because she's never seen sex as something that she can take for herself or as an act where she has power but Daemon takes her to a place where she can. Where they both can. This tells you that this experience is meant to be empowering for both of them but especially Rhaenyra. Being there empowers Daemon to cross a boundary he had not crossed before. He gets to take Rhaenyra. Being there for Rhaenyra empowers her to take control of her sexual expression and seek control, seek pleasure, seek passion, seek something that's purely about want and need and about nothing else. He outright tells her that this is what sex is for men AND women. This directly contradicts the idea that Daemon cares nothing about her awakening and it's a plot.

You could argue he says these things to manipulate her into an act but why chose a form of manipulation that plays into her gaining the most instead of him? A sexually empowered Rhaenyra can navigate her duty much more effectively than before. She can make smarter decisions and stop the tantrums that are holding her back. A sexually empowered Rhaenyra that is bold and unafraid and enlightened can form alliances that will strengthen her claim to the throne. We actually see this happen by the end of the episode when she agrees to marry Laenor without dispute and forces Viscerys to get rid of Otto as his hands. This Rhaenyra does not serve a Daemon who only wants to control her and use her for power, it does the exact opposite.

let's look at how the acts even take place for some ideas about his motives. He doesn't try to overwhelm her. He doesn't hungrily attack her even though he is hungry for her. He also doesn't dominate her completely. She's as into it as he is. She doesn't move a pace beyond where she is comfortable. He doesn't rush her and aggressively try to get into to submit to him. He doesn't overwhelm her with pleasure he gradually builds her up and lets her chase it. They passionately but tenderly kiss. He caresses her hair and her body. She pulls him close for more and doesn't shy away from her. Yes he's the one who turns her and moves towards the wall but she walks with him keeping up with her pace perfectly. Even when she is pushed against the wall she is excited and challenges him, she's not overpowered. He doesn't yank her clothing off he sensually exposures her. One of the best moments was when he takes her pants off. SHE ACTUALLY HELPS HIM DO IT. Her hands move to remove her own clothing and they actually do it together. He does not flinch when she initially changes position, it's AFTER that he pulls back. He's still into it when she turns and kisses him and nothing about the power dynamics in that kiss changed from their previous kisses.

This is the entire reason I don't agree that Daemon ends their encounter because he no longer had control of the sex act which is what pretty much everybody thinks the creators mean when they speak on this part and why he ended it. Is he shocked that's shes so responsive? Yes but I don't think that shock has a negative impact on the moment because he never actually had complete control of the sex act and he wanted her to feel powerful. That was never the point to begin with. Rhaenyra is supposed to take control of her sexual encounter, she's supposed to be an equal participant. She's supposed to seek pleasure and take what she wants. She's supposed to give him as good as she gets. That's the lesson. That's the whole point of the awakening. This entire thing is about empowering them both, not just him. This empowerment is important for rhaenyra for all the reasons I mentioned above and Daemon knows this. He had an entire conversation with her about this. He comforted her about her lack of all these things earlier. We even hear Rhaenyra tell alicent that her hundreds of suitors don't actually want her, they want her name and her valyrian blood. Daemon is supposed to be the exception. He intentionally wants to make himself the exception. So having Daemon have a motive of wanting to dominate her sexual encounter and being unable to do so which makes him abruptly abandon then sell her out to ruin her for a title her would make this scenario even worse than it already is because it means he wanted to completely disempower her all so that he could have a shot at the iron throne that he was never going to get. It's literally making her worst fear, the source of all of her teen angst for the last 4 episodes come to life. This interpretation colors every single one of their interactions with darkness from the very moment he has a full conversation with her this episode and gives him a level of villainy that completely takes away his nuance as a character because this act with this motivation requires selfishness and callousness towards her that crosses a line. Ultimately I just don't think this characterization well supported by the narrative and It would also make it difficult to even sell a later romance between the two of them.

So the math ain't math'n so how can we make it all add up? That's what this entire analysis boils down to based on what I've already demonstrated:

Daemon didn't set out to manipulate rhaenyra and this was not a well-plotted plan to ruin her. He wanted to initiate her sexual awakening for her own good because he cares and for his own selfish desire to have her sexually

He loves viscerys but still has resentment towards him leading to an unending desire to upset him when the opportunity presents itself. He was well aware that his actions would potentially stick a knife in Viscerys's back if he found out about it and he relished it but it was not merely a ploy to piss him off.

He did not go out of his way to ensure viscerys found out about it. He just didn't care about the consequences if Viscerys or anyone else found out. He had no connection to the spy at all. The spy was Otto doing the whole time with the help of mysaria.

He actually enjoyed her having control during the encounter, it made him desire her even more because he has always been enticed by her moments of self-assuredness. It makes him crave her instead of wanting to reject her.

The only reason he could not complete the sex act with her is because Daemon has psychogenic erectile dysfunction for reasons that are yet to be revealed.

Daemon did not pre-plan asking for Rhaenyra's hand. It happened at the moment because for the same reasons he was unable to get an erection.

If you watch the scene just before he leaves the brothel Daemon is very much still into engaging with Rhaenyra when she turns around to kiss him. As I said before he was actually relishing her show of control, not shying away from it. The problem is at the point in the encounter where she turns around he has already kissed her, caressed her body and he has already stimulated her vaginally.

(You can see his hand move from her hip further down when he has her against the wall. It was clearly meant to stimulate digital stimulation but it was purposely obscured by shadows and angles to focus on Rhaenyra's pleasure versus the actual physicality of the act)

When she turns around the next escalation in their sexual encounter is actual penetration. She wants it. He wants it....only Daemon can not get an erection. That's why he pulls away and looks at her for so long. He is hoping her desire, her look of hunger, her hair, anything will get his penis to stand up but it doesn't. She pushes to continue but he can't to he pulls away every time. He even attempts to push through it but giving in to her again but he still can't perform. That's when he finally reaches peak frustration which is both embarrassing and inconvenient so he leaves her to nurse his wound on his own. That is why he see that he ended up passing our drunk somewhere and Mysaria has to retrieve him. The control the creators were speaking about wasn't control of the power dynamics of the act, it was about control of his ability to perform aka exert his power ultimate during the acts.

Daemon has psychogenic erectile dysfunction. He had this issue before Rhaenyra since we saw him in the middle of sex with Mysaria, someone he clearly enjoys but he was unable to maintain his erection and reach a climax. That's why they even showed us that scene. Daemon is not physically impotent, he has no vascular issues preventing erection, and he has no neurologic issue preventing erection. It's purely psychologic. When he retreats from Mysaria he is clearly preoccupied with several thoughts. He is chaotic as hell but he is extremely emotional. The emotions we see most often are just petulance, anger, and resentment. His encounter with Mysaria established that when Daemon has too many emotions and thoughts in his head it interferes with his ability to sexually perform. I don't when this started but that is exactly what happens with Rhaenyra.

Daemon sexually desired Rhaenyra but I think once he started the actual act of being with her sexually he completely lost control of his emotions and his thoughts NOT the power dynamics that that's what rattles him. Maybe a little bit of guilt for attempting to have sex with his young niece in the middle of a brothel kicked in, after all until this point he has only known her as family and despite the familial history of incest he himself has never actually engaged in it before (that I know of). Maybe he feels something because Rhaenyra completely trusts him and that trust is why he's about to take her maidenhead in the middle of a brothel even though that is not how her first time should actually be. Maybe he feels an overwhelming emotional connection to her at the moment that caught him off guard because this was supposed to be about sex. It's probably all of the above really but the idea is these thoughts come up and he can not control them and because he can not control them he can not get an erection to actually do the one thing he truly set out to do which is have sex with Rhaenyra. He also can not tell her this because she has no idea what erectile dysfunction is and he can not explain it to her without being humiliated. He is supposed to be the one giving her a sexual awakening not a lesson on men with broken penises. So he leaves her there when under any other circumstances he would never do that to her.

That knowledge makes the entire puzzle come together because it gives his reaction at that moment some context that fits with the lead-up and that makes his later actions make some sense.

When he is confronted by Viscerys he straight up lies to enrage Viscerys and to cover for his own humiliation. Those are literally the only real things he can gain from telling that lie. Unbeknownst to us all and Rhaenyra, Daemon also had an awakening with Rhaenyra and that's why when the opportunity presents itself he seizes the chance to take her hand in marriage. Through his humiliation, he discovered that he desires Rhaenyra in a way that is bigger than he realized. He doesn't just want her sexually he wants her fully and completely. He wants her laugh, her childish curiosity, her determination, her ability to see right through him, her bravery, her stubbornness, her petulance, her anger, her beauty, her valyrian blood, her claim, her everything. I mean he straight up tells Viscerys he will take Rhaenyra just as she is. That was about so much more than a reputation. It firmly makes Daemon the opposite of the men Rhaenyra hates which actually fits the narrative but makes it even more interesting because Rhaenyra is unaware of all of this so it gives them so much more to explore and play with for the characters and their relationships later.

So no he didn't plot to marry her, it isn't until Viscerys himself presents him with the opportunity that he decides that's what he wants to do. It solves the problem of her reputation and gets him what he wants which is Rhaenyra and the restoration of his house to a level of glory and admiration that he feels Viscerys has sullied with his weakness. That's why I think it's important to acknowledge that Daemon was being truthful about his motivations when he says he can restore his house to glory. That is definitely a part of it. Sure it makes his intentions less pure but it makes them authentic and that's what matters the most. If this wasn't spontaneous he would have tried to end his own marriage before he even brought it up to make it more likely to happen. Instead, he never asks to end his marriage, he only suggests taking a second wife because at that brief moment where viscerys has him at knifepoint it's the only reasonable way forward. He didn't have time to actually think about a more seamless way to have her hand in marriage.

Finally, Daemon actually does accomplish his goal. Rhaenyra leaves their encounter and she feels fully empowered so much so she feels comfortable propositioning Criston for sex AND she takes the dominant position placing her own pleasure above all. Her view on sex and relationships and her own power have completely changed thanks to Daemon. This is further solidified by the fact that when her father tells her she's marrying Laenor she doesn't fight him. She will actually do her duty now because she gets what it fully means and no longer feels like she will be a prisoner in a marriage. She even feels so empowered she challenges Viscerys to get rid of Otto, a man he has been loyal to for decades AND it actually happens. Rhaenyra can now effectively navigate her future because of one intense experience with Daemon that shifts her perspective and I think that's pretty awesome for Rhaenyra and for Rhaenyra and Daemon as a pairing.

So in summary: Daemon Targaryen is a chaotic man with chaotic feelings but he is sprung on rhaenyra targaryen and he is not a cold-hearted master manipulator. Rhaenyra is now a boss bitch. Thanks, Daemon. The end lol

#daemon x rhaenyra #daemyra #rhaenyra x daemon #HOTD #HOTD commentary #Daemyra commentary #whew this is long y'all I'm so so sorry #if you read this you're a real one #this is just my attempt to make it all make sense in my head #I hope it makes sense #AGAIN THIS IS LONG AS SHIT PLEASE BE AWARE

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