#“I touch myself but it’s still you anyway.”
Text
Your Delusion
Pairing: dark!Dream of the Endless x Reader
Word Count: 4.8k words
Warnings: NSFW, dubcon, somnophilia, fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, forced(?) breeding, swearing...
A/N: This was to get me out of Writer's Block. Kind of worked? Dream is a bit (ridiculously) delulu in here. He's doing some mental gymnastics in here, and I applaud him cause same. Anyway, enjoy this strange, strange man.
You look so beautiful like this.
Wrapped in your sheets with your eyes so delicately closed, lips so delicately parted, breaths so delicately passed, you look like a dream. My dream.
And you shall always be mine.
No matter what you may believe.
Your rejection was a white hot burn in my chest, a clawing in my throat. The searing courses through my veins, but I know that I cannot blame you for what you had said. You meant only the best, you meant only not to worry me.
But you shouldn't need to worry. Not about such things.
When I saw you in that field, my field—Fiddler’s Green—I knew then and there that I could await our union no longer. I had to have you, I had to keep you.
You turned when you felt me near, and your eyes filled with confusion for just a moment before the recognition of my presence replaced it. You always knew it was me in the end. No matter how many dreams you dreamt.
“Dream lord,” you greeted me, with a smile so soft and true. Oh, how I love your smile.
I took slow steps across the green grasses beneath me, slowly approaching. “It has been a while since you have come here.”
I usually find you with the brothers of the First Story, or perhaps with Lucienne in the library. Other days, you would wander through other fields or amongst the waters of the Golden Rivers. But not then.
Then, you stood in the flowers of Fiddler’s Green. The very place we first met.
“How are you?” I wondered.
You glanced away. It was a shy little gesture, and a quick one at that. In no time, your eyes were back to me and it meant the world. “Better now,” you mumbled, placing your hand against a tree. “I almost forgot how beautiful this place was.”
Though I would usually acknowledge your words, I cannot help but to stare. “I have missed you.” I cannot always find time to see you with all the work I find myself caught in, but when I do, you never disappoint. It had been a couple of nights since last we saw one another, but it was a couple of nights too long.
“I missed you, too.” You said it as though you truly meant it, and that was all I needed. “How have you been doing?”
“Thinking.” I moved closer. There was still too much distance between us.
You tilted your head gently. “About?”
“Many things,” I shrugged. “But mostly you.”
You seemed almost taken aback by what I said, but you remain as kind as ever. “Me?” you chuckled—a bashful thing, really.
My eyes never left you. You're so beautiful, I mustn't ever look away. Perhaps I may lose you if I do…
“I can't keep you from my mind.” I watched as your smile faltered and your face shifted. “Every moment, I think of you.”
You tried to take a step back, but I grabbed your hands and held them within mine. I let the words spill, and I confessed what I had been holding in all this time. “You come and you go from my realm as you please. You smile and laugh as though any being could resist falling for the very thought of you. I look at you, and I know that what I feel is true.”
You looked away from me, down at our hands joined so firmly in one another. You close your eyes shut, and you squeeze them tight. “Dream, I don't think I understand.”
Then I would help you understand. You needed to know how much I need you, how much I crave you.
“I long for you,” I confessed. “Your beauty, your touch, your heart… And I can't keep from you any longer, my dear.”
I stepped even closer, the distance nearly squashed as I set my forehead against your own. “Dream,” your voice seemed so far away, so uncertain. But you mustn't feel that way.
“Be mine,” the desperation began to become clearer in my voice. “Join me as my wife and queen.” My thumb brushed the finger where your wedding ring would be placed. I would almost feel it now… “I shall protect you with my life and love you with all that I am–”
“No.”
The icy chill of your disagreement, the stern tone of your voice, it created a sour taste on my tongue that I deeply resented.
I did not break away from you, though my grip on your hands may have tightened a bit more than they should have. “What?” My voice is low, upset and full of disbelief. You pulled your hands from mine, and I knew that I had to let you or else I may have hurt you.
“Dream…” you sighed heavily, like it pained you. “I can't.”
My eyes fixed on you, and I thought you could see the sudden darkness in them. Perhaps you did, but it wasn't enough.
“Why not?”
“Look at you.” You gesture toward me, taking another few steps away to establish a distance that left me cold. Your voice was not as steady as I'm sure you hoped it would be, but it was firm nonetheless. “Look at me.”
Your hand slapped back down to your side. It was a defeated movement. Hopelessness filled you in the form of tears, and that's how I knew you cared.
“You are the King of Dreams,” you continued, “one of the Endless, the fucking—ruler of sleep and unconsciousness, who's been alive for eons.”
Your brows knitted together, and your hand reaches across your frame. “I'm some…human you've been talking to for the last year.”
I swallowed thickly, the sourness turning to a bitter agony. “Don't you love me?”
I sound pathetic asking, but I simply could not go another moment without knowing.
“Of course I love you!” you exclaimed, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. The leaves in the trees around us shook incessantly, yet there was no wind. Your voice was weaker when you spoke again. “How can I not?”
Hope filled me, if only for a moment. If you loved me so, then why do you choose to deny me your hand?
“But I can't have you,” you explained. “I'm mortal, you're Endless. I will die, and you will go on living for damn near the rest of eternity.”
If time was what concerned you, we could take it away.
“I can get you immortality.” I tried to step closer, but you stepped away.
You shook your head. “It's not mine to take.”
It was times like these where I wish you weren't so good. It was times like these where I wish you were more selfish, more possessive.
“Nonsense,” I disagreed. “If you were mine, the whole of the Dreaming would be yours.” You grunted with such frustration that my own crawled up my neck and into my teeth.
“Morpheus.” I still don't like the way you said it…with such a stern resolve, so bitter and broken. “I can't… I've heard about what happens to those who love the Endless.”
I nearly scoff. “Is that what this is about?” I shake my head.
If danger was what concerned you, I would quash the threats set against my love.
“As I said, I can protect you.”
“I'm not afraid for me,” you urged, “I'm afraid for you.” Oh, my love, you hurt me so. “You've lost so much, I can't hurt you like that.” You took tentative steps away from me, looking down and finding it so difficult to reach my gaze. “It is easier for you to let me go and move on, than to humor this ‘relationship’ and get the both of us hurt in the process.”
You looked up, despite the pain, and you moved forward to take my face in your hands. I must close my eyes to relieve the ache of you so close to me now. Oh, how deeply you cut…
“Forget about me,” you insisted, trying to smile for my sake. I could see how much it hurt you. “I know it's not fair, but it's how it has to be.” When my hands land on your waist, you drop yours from my face.
Reluctantly, you set your hands on my wrists and pulled them slowly away from you. Your voice was soft, wavery. You were trying not to cry. “I am not meant for you.” You take a deep breath in. “And you were never meant for me.”
I didn't know what to say. Though, I suppose it did not matter, for the next moment, you were gone. You left from the Dreaming, and you were lost from my sight.
But that was days ago. You have been avoiding me since.
But I've been there. At every turn, I have been there. And I know you feel me, you know that I am always there—lurking, watching, waiting.
You know it's me when you glance over your shoulder for the shadow in the corner of your eye. You know it's me in the shiver down your spine, the phantom billow of my robes as I ghost past. You know it's me in the faintest sound of breath out of sync with your own.
And I can tell that you know it's me now, in the walls of your bedroom while you lay fast asleep. You look so beautiful, soft and serene. To be in your dreams is one thing, but to watch you lost in your sleep is something else. To know that my realm has so much power, so much influence over something as perfect as you… If only I could watch you sleep forever.
Perhaps I could… but I shall not.
I don't understand how you were so sure of how deeply we did not belong, but I did know that you were wrong. Of course you're wrong.
We are meant to be together. We always were and we always will be. I am not prepared to let you go.
You worry so deeply about us, my well-being and yours if anything were to happen. But as long as there was a gap between us, we could never be together. If our eternal marriage wasn't enough to fill that, then I would just have to find something else.
Something deeper. Something more important than bands on our fingers.
And every kingdom needs its heir.
I shed my robes, the sky hidden beneath them as black as the darkest sapphires. My gentle steps are silent as I approach, the moonlight glinting on your skin now blocked by my frame.
Slowly, I sit on the bed beside you, and I cannot resist the touch of my hand against your cheek. You're so soft and sweet, especially when you lean your face into my hand. I smile, and I know you love me.
I lean down ever so slowly, and my lips press to your forehead. Your head shifts, a little keen against me. Oh, how you beg for my touch, my darling.
And I shall give it.
I remove the covers from your body, revealing you to me. Your shirt rides up your belly, exposing the soft expanse of your skin to me. I place my hand there, and hear you sigh. I slide down, my fingers caressing your skin until my hand dips below your shorts and presses to the cotton of your undergarment.
Your breath hitches when you feel my fingers against your clothed clit, brushing so gently, it's like a phantom touch. Still, you do not wake.
Spreading your legs for me, I cup your perfect little pussy in my palm and sigh. Just as I thought you'd be, warm and wet and waiting for me. I tease, stroking gently with my fingers to bring your arousal further. You squirm against my touch, but still you do not wake. You know I am here, you have no reason to fret.
I knew you loved me.
I lean down and kiss you, though you're so tired you do not kiss back. But that’s alright, you are all I need.
I pull away from you, standing once again and standing at the foot of the bed. I grab at the waistband of your shorts and pull them and your panties down your legs, pausing when you stir too much. When you no longer shift, I pull them off completely.
Oh, you are lovely.
My hands stroke the expanse of your smooth skin, and you sigh at my every touch. Your brows knit together, a far off focus in your dreamland. My fingers tease the seam of your sweet cunt once more, delving between your wetting folds to feel how hot you are around me.
You begin to stir again, but my hand to your stomach eases you. I do not want you to wake yet. Not yet. Soon.
Your walls clench around my finger, and I reward them with another. A tiny whimper slips through your lips. I massage my fingers in and out of you, deep and slow movements that coax more and more wetness from your cunt. My thumb presses to your clit, and your hips roll against me very slightly.
I can no longer control myself. I move onto my knees and hold your legs apart. I just want to taste you. And when my tongue meets the arousal seeping from your lips, a deep moan rumbles within me.
Such sweet honey you make all for me, only for me. I suckle around you, licking and sucking and tasting you with a growing enthusiasm. Your tiny whimpers are becoming moans, broken and needy as you keen into my touch. Your fists clench and unclench, your thighs try to close, your hips roll against my mouth. But I keep you steady, steady and still and open wide for me.
As I suck around your clit, I can feel you clenching around my tongue, which licks in and out of you and laps up your sweetness. You're so close, I can feel it, I can taste it. Your desperation for a release is a potent syrup on my tongue.
Your body shakes and your mewling moans fill the room when you come undone. You gasp, a pitchy, wonderful sound that makes me suck harder around your pulsing clit. You try to break away from me, but I only pull you closer, drunk on your taste and refusing to let up until I have had my fill.
It's a wonderful thing, watching you cum for me so deep in your sleep. I can see flashes of your dreams behind my eyes, skin against skin and warmth and passion and even brief images of me. I feel you tremble beneath me, shuddering and whimpering so sweetly.
I work you through your brief overstimulation, groaning around your pussy as your taste overcomes my senses. The intoxication is a precious salve to my hunger for you, but it does not last long. No, I will never not hunger for you.
And I soon shall never have to find myself starved of you either.
The next time you cum, your back arches off the bed and your mewls mix with your heavy gasp. When I hear the sound of your quickening heart and feel the tug of your slowly building consciousness, I pull apart from you.
Shh. Not yet. Sleep, my love. Soon you shall awake and see me giving you all that you desire.
I place my hand to hold your cheek, and your fluttering eyes steady once more as they seal shut in your returning slumber. And when all is right, I smile. Your slick allows my fingers to glide right through.
Perfect.
I move away, stripping the both of us until we're nothing but skin. The bed dips under my weight, and I pull your thighs over my legs.
Taking my cock in my hand, I hiss lightly. You've truly made a mess of me: hot and hard and leaking. I lean down to you, pressing my lips to the side of your face and dipping down into your neck.
“Don't worry, my love,” I whisper in your ear. “We shall be together.”
I line myself with you, and holding my breath, I thrust inside. Warmth blossoms along my body, and I shudder at the tight heat which welcomes me. “All of us.”
You whine as I push farther inside of you, going deeper and deeper until you've taken me all the way. A thick sigh heaves from my chest at the way you clench, and my hips stutter at the feeling. I pull back and thrust in once more, building a steady rhythm that grows with my passion and desperation for you.
You whimper and moan, squirming beneath me as you stir beneath the slumber I've placed you in. The images in your mind—our bodies, our lips, flashes and breaths—they mix like a cocktail that further my intoxication.
My thrusts are perhaps a bit too rushed for our first time together, but I cannot help it. You are better than I have ever imagined you'd be. I want to savor this, to take my time with you, to cherish each feeling and each taste and each sight…
But we shall have plenty of time for that in the future. Right now, I must ravage your body lying so pliant and willing for me.
I kiss your neck, taking the soft flesh between my teeth and sucking. You taste like flowers and honey, a precious taste I shall never tire of. I rut into you, listening to the sweet sounds of your slick along my cock, listening to your weak moans, your needy whimpers. I'm determined to make you cum with me as I rub your aching little clit with the pad of my thumb.
My need for you trumps everything else. I want nothing more than to bury myself as deeply inside of you as I possibly can and fill you with my love, a love that would take root within you and grow our dearest child. I hook my arms underneath your thighs and put you in the perfect position to receive it, chest to chest as I bury my face in the warm column of your throat.
“Oh, my love.” The words spill out of me as the pleasure grips my throat, and I thrust deeply inside of you. In the same thrust, your back arches off the bed and you actually shake in my arms as you cum around my cock, squeezing me so tight that I have no choice but to cum inside of you.
A rough groan tears through my throat and into your ear. As your tight pussy trembles around you, you gasp as the pleasure rips through you. I feel the harsh tug of sleep being taken from you, and you fully awake with me still buried so perfectly in your cunt.
You choke on my name, and the sound is so sweet that my hips stutter in a half-thrust that pulls a moan out of you. I smile, pulling back without pulling out and looking down at you. You're so beautiful like this, dazed from the pleasure, still coated in sleep with the confusion of it all.
“Dream,” you whisper again, your voice thick with sleep and something else. “Dream, what–?”
You don't have time to speak because I have already begun fucking inside of you again. I'm not quite done yet—I want to make certain that you shall carry my heir in your belly, certain that I shall claim you forever.
And I'm already so addicted to the feeling of your body. To be without it would be a crime.
With the relief of a release, I can focus now as I gaze down at you. My hips thrust in and out—a steady, quick, rough rhythm that has you moaning with loud and helpless sounds that are music to my ears. Your hands reach up, clenching my arms with an uncertain goal.
You struggle to speak, so driven by your lust for me that all you can do is form wordless words as I fuck you. You curse and swear, glassy eyes on me as I hold you close.
Suddenly, I pull out of you, and the most pathetic whine slips from your throat. I flip you onto your belly, spreading your legs and pushing your chest down as I enter you from behind. You welcome me, as I knew you would. My perfect girl.
“Hello, my darling,” I whisper through a groan after a particularly rough thrust. “Did you miss me?”
You mutter something of my name, and I smile.
“I missed you, too,” I say. I press my chest to your back, bringing my hand to wrap around your neck so gently. “But I shall never leave you again. And you shall never leave me.”
You try to say something but it doesn't matter. I pick up my pace, my strength. I hold you tightly and fuck into you with everything that I have. As my fingers circle your abused clit, you moan and gasp for breath as all the pleasure stacks on top of you, one right after the other.
“You're so good for me, my love,” I sigh. “You're always so good for me, as you sleep and as you wake.” Another whimper resounds.
I've longed for this moment for so long. This moment where you would be beneath me, moaning my name and welcoming me into your intimate warmth. Your body moves against me, seeking me out and shuddering under my touch as I give you everything you need. All the slick has built with the addition of my cum dripping out of you, coating me and the sheets below in white. The sounds we make together—the moans, the creaks, the smacks—it's a beautiful cacophony of sweet music. I could stay here forever, locked in this room with you and your body and your love, fucking you with all my passion and making love to you with all my heart.
Your hand reaches out to grab something, settling for the pillow, which you grip so hard, it looks as though you may tear into the fabric. The pictures in your mind have become so much more muddled. Now they're flashes of white, the vague movements of bodies and the vague sounds of groans. It's a mess, a beautiful mess of tangled thoughts and watered down cohesion.
Your moans shudder like cries when I pull another orgasm from your weak little body. As I fuck you through it, the pleasure becomes all the better as you go blinded by it.
“So perfect, my beautiful dear.” I pull out of you, and you sigh as I do, as if you think this is over. I turn you back onto your back.
My knuckles smooth gently down the side of your face as you stare up at me, your eyes glazed over. I kiss you, a deep, bruising kiss filled with all of my lust for you. It takes you a moment, but you kiss back. It's a wonderful feeling.
As our lips are joined, I join our bodies once more. You gasp into my mouth as my cock fills you once more. I trail my kisses along your jaw and back to your neck, painting you in love bites and taking you as mine.
My hips snap into you, my hands hold you tight, my lips lave along your skin. Oh, how I love you so. It shows in the way that I thrust, in the way that I sigh, in the way that I kiss, in the way that I hold you close to me. I can't let go.
A couple of stray tears slip down your cheeks, and I kiss them away. Poor thing, so full of pleasure that you're crying for it.
Without giving you much time to recover, my thumb is at your clit again. I've become utterly intoxicated with the sight of your undoing: the way you tremble and shake, the way you gasp and sigh. I love you.
And for a while, we stay like this, rocking and grinding and moaning into one another. The sight of our faces are drenched in utter bliss, and I bask in the moment. I can feel the beginnings of a second release prickling within me, and my steady thrusts begin to falter.
“I want to hear you say it.”
Your dazed eyes look up at me, your question interrupted by a moan. “Say–ah! Say what?”
“Tell me that you love me. As I love you.” I press my forehead against yours, rutting into you with all my strength as I begin to lose control. “Tell me, my darling. Tell me.”
“I…” You clench your jaw, arching your back as you struggle to speak through your pleasure. “Fuck, Dream.”
Your mouth is agape, and your eyes are closed so sweetly. But I need to hear you say it. I need it. “Say it.” My grip on your hip tightens, my thumb on your clit becomes more ruthless.
Lost in euphoria, you gasp and nearly choke on the words you give to me. “I love you.” You huff out a heavy breath, holding me tighter as your lips search for my skin. Their sloppy contact slides against me, wanting nothing more than to feel my skin against you. “I love you, Dream. Fuck, don’t stop, I love you.”
I sigh at the pleasure it gives me to hear those words on your delicate lips. “Again. Say it again.”
“I love you.” A whimpering sound mixes with a groan. “I love you, Dream.”
My fuse is running out, and with the way you tighten around me, I don’t stand a chance as my rough thrusts bring the both of us even closer to our highs. I can taste it on my tongue. The taste of your honeyed flower skin and your sweet arousal is my own personal wine.
My voice is barely a whisper in my haste. “Say it.”
“I love you, Morpheus.”
The dam breaks as I spill inside of you, shoving my cock as deep as I could possibly reach. Your gasp joins mine, and our sounds mingle with heaving breaths, your pitchy moans mixing with my deepened ones. You hold me as close as I hold you, and our lips slot together in the white noise of our ecstasy.
My hips continue their endless pursuit within you, desperate rolls thrusting within you just to make certain we’ve created our heir. For a while, I lay there on top of you, sparing you my weight but offering my warmth as I stay comfortably sheathed within you. Our gasping breaths have settled to gentle sighs, and you lay limply beneath me as you stare up at the ceiling. Contemplating.
When the time has unfortunately come to remove myself from you, I do as I adjust some hair from your face and kiss your forehead.
There was a fog in the room that I had not noticed before—not a physical one, of course. It’s beginning to clear in the aftermath of our combined pleasure. Your eyes slowly find mine, glazed still but the clearest they have been all night. Now that the blinding bliss has settled and you’ve fully awakened, there’s a clarity you’ve suddenly gained. You take in the sight of my face and I smile down at you, brushing my thumb over your cheek.
“Dream,” you mutter gently, to which I hum. “What have you done?”
My smile grows. I place a kiss to your lips, one that you seem to have trouble returning. Hooking my finger under your chin, I ensure you see me as I speak softly, a gentle hum that I know you shall hear.
“No one shall steal you from me now. Not even Death, no one. You are mine and only mine.”
Your eyes are glossy now, unshed tears gracing them that I hope to wipe away. “Dream,” you whisper, holding onto me with a tight grasp that I embrace. You look like you’ll say something, something dire and important. Instead, you close your mouth and smile, the kind of smile that must be pushed for.
“I love you,” you whisper. There’s an undertone to it that I dismiss. You’re tired, that’s all. I know you love me, and that’s all that matters.
I smile, kissing you again with all the love in my heart. My hand on your waist tightens, and I must remember that you are human. Pulling away from your lips, I brush my finger over your bottom one.
“I love you, too, my darling wife.”
Nothing can take that from us now.
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Honestly anything with Matt is fine with me now as I feel like a sucker for that man last days😂 maybe him coming home after the long summer tour and festivals which leads to some steamy sex (you know like riding his thigh, fingers or face or maybe everything lol)
okay but hear me out (i’m working on a fic about when he comes home i swear), maybe while he’s gone for the tours/festivals he starts sending you voice memos whenever he has enough alone time to jack off just because he wants you to know what he’s thinking about while he’s doing it (he’d much prefer facetime but he knows sometimes the timing just isn’t right). anyways here’s an example of what i think the voice memos would sound like.
hmm. hey, little one. just wanted you to hear what’s happening. honestly? i wish you were on your knees for me right now. what?! I’m just being a good boyfriend and telling you what i want, isn’t that what you always want?
mmm, yeah would you lemme fuck your face, be my good whore. youre so god damn pretty when you drool all over my cock. what do you think? that’s what you want huh? i think you were made for suckin my cock. shit…. wanna cum on your tongue - i bet you can still taste it while your listening to me fuck my fist huh? jesus, baby - im gonna keep you to myself, forever. you okay with that? i bet you’re gonna touch yourself to this when you get home, right? gonna get off the thought of being mine, huh? can’t wait - fuck - to hear how wet your pussy is. gonna have to call me, maybe we can get off together. fuck i miss you.
#ask breezy#matt dierkes headcannon#matt dierkes smut#matt dierkes x reader#matt dierkes blurb#bad omens smut#bad omens headcanons#bad omens blurb#bad omens fanfiction
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! 🎁🎈🎂🎉🎊 I loved Try Me (Matt Murdock x Reader), I was wondering if maybe you could write a sequel? I could see an intimate moment where she’s feeding him the soup she made and taking care of him, potentially with the hilarity of Foggy finding out he’s got two super powered friends
thanks! hopefully this is what you were looking for, I had fun writing it!
Ask Me
pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
word count: 1099
warnings: none
part 1
birthday masterlist
main masterlist
"I can't believe you're Daredevil." She mutters as she ladles the soup into a bowl. She made a broth more than a soup because she didn't have time to cut the vegetables, but it'll do the trick. She also didn't know the extent of Matt's injures, and she didn't want him to have trouble eating anything. "Does Foggy know?" She asks as she brings the bowl over to the couch.
"Yes," Matt chuckles, but his teeth are clenched in pain. She kneels next to the couch and she is still shocked by his injuries, even though she's already seen them. He has a large cut across his chest, and resists the urge to touch it.
She watches Matt try to sit up, but he's clearly in too much pain. She puts the soup on the ground in favor of helping him up. She tries not to let her pulse rush as she touches his bare back and bicep, pulling him up gently until he is sitting up enough to eat.
"Here, let's get you some food." She tells him, spooning some broth and then carefully helping him eat some. It's so quiet in the apartment that she swears she can feel her own heart race as she feeds Matt. They're close, and her brain is reeling with the thought of how Matt, and blind man, can be a vigilante.
"I think that's good." Matt groans when they're about three fourths of the way though the bowl. She gets up to put the bowl away and grab a warm, wet cloth.
"How are you Daredevil?" She asks, sinking down to her knees again and beginning to wipe off the blood around his wounds.
"Are you asking if I'm actually blind?" He questions, but he's smiling, so she can tell he's joking.
"I know you're blind, Matt." She says with a small sigh. She's seen his unfocused eyes too many times to think he was just preteneding.
"All my other senses are heightened." He tells her, tensing as she begins to wipe a big, deep cut. She hopes that soon her healing food will kick in; she's never seen it help on this level, and she's worried it won't work as well as Matt is hoping it will.
"So, you can hear really good?" She asks, wondering what exactly that means. He shrugs, smiling a little bit.
"And smell, and taste. And feel. I have to have specific sheets because of how sensitive my skin is." He's feeling better, she can tell, and it makes her smile.
"How did figure it out?" She asks quietly. She's had these powers ever since she can remember, but she'd never told anyone and no one ever figured it out either. This is a first, sharing a gift, and she can't help but feel a little scared.
"That your food could heal people?" He clarifies. She almost nods, but then catches herself.
"Yeah," She confirms.
"You asked me what happened again the day after you first gave me the croissant, as if you knew it should have gone away. And I usually have accelerated healing anyway, but not that fast. You wouldn't have known that." He's starting to relax more, and she knows he needs to get some sleep soon.
"You wanna move to the bed?" She asks, putting the cloth down and preparing to move him. Before he can answer, Foggy comes stomping back in.
"So both of my best friends are super heroes?" He yells, throwing the drugstore bag in their general direction. Y/N's eyes widen as Foggy walks to them.
"I am not a super hero." Y/N clarifies.
"I wouldn't classify myself as one either." Matt interjects, a hand out to stop Foggy's rant. It does nothing, and Foggy soldiers on.
"You can feel, hear, and smell things no human should be able to feel, hear, and smell." He points at Matt, who raises an eyebrow. "And you can heal people with your food, that you've been feeding me for months!" Foggy moves to Y/N, and she just shakes her head.
"Have you ever wondered why you haven't gotten sick in months?" She asks, and he just scoffs.
"That proves my point!" He screams. Y/N and Matt shake their heads, Matt smirking.
"Foggy, neither of us are superheroes. You don't need to freak out." Matt tries to calm him down, but Foggy just gets more worked up.
"Are you kidding me? You could be Avengers for all I know!" Foggy grabs the bag that he had thrown and begins to get some of the bandages and Neosporin out to help Matt.
"Oh my God," Y/N groans, rolling her eyes and putting her head in her hands. Honestly, Foggy freaking out was kinda funny, but she isn't sure if he's being serious now or not.
"We're not Avengers, Foggy." Matt chuckles, and Y/N begins to put bandages over Matt's injuries.
"Well I just don't know that, do I?" Foggy looks over at the pot on the stove, walking over there quickly. "What did you make?"
"Just a quick broth. I wanted to get Matt something quick." She tells Foggy as she begins to focus on the task at hand.
"Is this why I haven't gotten paper cuts?" Foggy asks as he ladles a little soup out for himself.
"It doesn't make you skin extra strong, Fog." Matt tells him as she continues bandaging him up. Her hands brushing his skin make Matt want to crawl out of his skin in a good way, which didn't make sense until this very moment.
"Did I hurt you?" Y/N asks softly when he tenses.
"No," He mutters, putting a hand on her wrist to stop her. "It's okay, I think the big ones are taken care of." He just wants to lay down and sleep it off now, but he wants to ask her one more thing.
"Let me help you to your room." She offers, and together, with him leaning on her, they make it to Matt's room.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asks as they sit down. He can feel the heat begin to flush her cheeks, her heart beginning to race. He's worried still that maybe she feels uncomfortable until she responds.
"Working." She thinks she's funny, and Matt chuckles.
"Do you want to go to Josie's with me tomorrow night?" He asks, and she ducks her head and smiles.
"As long as my boss lets me off on time." She says, nudging him with her shoulder.
"I'll talk to him." He tells her, both of them smiling hard enough that their cheeks hurt.
//
tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler @thefandomplace @mcueveryday @icequeen1371 @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch
#matt murdock imagine#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock fluff#matt murdock x reader fluff#matt murdock#daredevil x reader#daredevil imagine#daredevil
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Gratia. (An As Above, So Below Story)
Gratia. Charitas. Solamen.
Grace. Charity. Peace.
The oath of the Knights of the Holy Order.
Summary: You and Eddie-- separated by time and endless suffering--don't realize how many strings keep you connected on the web of fate. What players are there trying to cut those strings? And when will you both find out that they are unbreakable?
Word Count: 2.1k
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!OC (The Knight - Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)
Warnings/Themes: Soulmates, Kas!Eddie, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Minor Character Deaths, Manipulation, Transformation, Corruption, Supernatural Encounters, Religious Elements, Criticism of Religion, Biblical and Other Literary and Pop Culture References
Note: So...originally this was going to be one long thing. A tale about the Knight and Eddie and their unbreakable bond. And I wavered about how relevant it would be to the larger story. How relevant are any of these blurbs to the larger story?
But if there's anything I've learned writing AASB, it's that I'm really writing the whole thing for myself. And after finding myself in an odd state of grief that kind of just keeps getting worse over the weekend, I know that this little fic...and the two that follow...really are only going to just be for me to help me get through it, so I need to be true to myself and write them anyway.
**So if you do read this, please know it can be read in tandem with As Above, So Below. And you should have at least read the Prequels, with maybe some bonus points for Genesis. Iif you've read the Hymns, this is set before Nachzehrer.**
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
“God is a comedian playing to an audience that is too afraid to laugh.”
― Voltaire
November 10, 1986
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you."
"She's not suffering anymore. Tranquilla."
"Thank you, I know. She's been sick for a long time. She's at rest now."
"Mom brought mostaccioli. And chicken cutlets. She's setting it up in the other room then she'll be over. You should get some, you need to eat."
"I'll be alright, thank you for coming."
Today was the final day that you would spend with your Nonna.
Well, a more accurate description was that they let you have it.
Let you.
Let you have one day to sit on that stiff funeral home sofa. To stare at her, unrecognizably still in her casket, as friends and neighbors swarmed to offer their condolences. To mourn with you.
But somehow also separately from you.
And tomorrow, after she was behind a cold slab of marble, you'd be off again. Creeping closer to your own death until one day you might be placed in a plot adjacent to her.
Together.
But not really.
If there was anything left of you.
It wouldn't do to think of that today though.
Today, you would sit here. Enjoy your break and bask in the remnants of her soul that still lingered in and around her body.
It brought you some comfort to feel it move the way she did.
It danced like she danced around the kitchen, the boundaries of it crinkling like the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. A phantasmic remnant of her lovingly worried gaze was on you every now and again, creating the urge to say "I'm ok Nonnie." To lie to her, like you always did. And whenever one of her friends knelt their own aging bodies to pray at her side, you could practically see the softness of her cushion their jagged edges, comforting them.
You didn’t dare go up yourself though.
Not yet.
Not unless you wanted the Funeral Director to haul you out of the casket because somewhere deep down you just wanted to crawl into it with her and scream,
“Take me with you. Don’t leave me like I left you.”
Because you were not ok.
You closed your eyes as a phantom hand touched your shoulder, as it attempted to soothe the pain deep inside you but only managed to stir up another kind of pain. Another kind of mourning.
If only he was really there, you could ask him to take you with him too. Take you away from here to wherever he and Nonna would wait for you.
An impossible request.
The weight of the sofa shifted beside you and you opened your eyes. You expected to find Fortunata or Antoinette—two of Nonna’s closest friends who could claim a spot beside you if they truly wanted—but instead you found Gabriel’s stiff inhuman posture and expressionless face staring ahead of him at the casket.
“You could have helped her,” you said instead of a greeting. What good would a greeting do? “Healed her.”
You briefly wondered if you'd imagined the corner of his mouth quirking before he spoke.
“And if I told you I had? If I spared her a worse fate? Lessened her pain? Lessened yours?”
“I wouldn’t believe you.”
“Then I won’t tell you.”
You turned back to watch the casket with an unsatisfied hum.
Time passed and you sat silently together as you fought to keep your emotions in check with Gabriel's presence. You weren't nervous, per se; more annoyed. Angry, even. Questioning why he was here on this day out of all days.
All your life, you explained away his presence as a guardian. Unseen and unknown to everyone but you. He used to protect you or so you could recall, but as you got older that seemed to stop.
And he was more of a harbinger of doom than a deterrent of it.
Well, not doom.
Fate.
Or God's will or some shit like that. You didn't know anymore. Didn't care. You only cared about getting to the finish line. Freeing your soul of this curse. Getting your prize.
Heaven. Home. Peace with the ones you loved.
With Nonna.
With Eddie.
So if Gabriel was here, it meant something was about to happen. Something unsavory. Something...
You blinked and he disappeared from your peripheral vision suddenly, and just beyond the space he had previously occupied, stood a man in a black cassock.
Jinette approached you but you didn't give him the satisfaction of your attention until he said your name and offered his condolences.
"May I sit?" he gestured beside you.
"Seat's taken," you responded coldly.
"Ah, your mother, yes," he nodded in realization, and you watched him pull a chair up from one of the rows behind you.
You wouldn't be the one to tell him that your mother hadn't shown her face since you arrived back in Chicago late last night. She had done her duty, arranged the funeral and called you home. Beyond that her obligation was almost over; she could be free.
There had been a brief moment between the two of you when you let yourself into Nonna's flat and found her at the table surrounded by paperwork and old pictures, and you thought for the briefest second that this might be a turning point. That she might exhume whatever love she used to have for you, buried so deep in her heart, so you wouldn't have to mourn alone.
Instead she said she was sorry, then kissed your cheek and left.
And really you only had yourself to blame at the disappointment that punctuated the interaction. How could you have expected anything more than that when the bar was already set so low?
"California is a long way to come just for funeral rites," you said once Jinette was settled.
"I'm afraid that's not what I'm here for."
"Then to attend a funeral of a very devout woman," you amended.
"I'm not here for that either." You would give it to him, the remorse plastered on his features almost looked sincere. "Unfortunately, there is a very dire situation and the Order is in need of your experti--"
"No," you cut him off swiftly. "Tomorrow. You can ask me to go tomorrow. Not today."
The usual coldness of his gaze returned and he addressed you stiffly.
"You cannot refuse. Must not. This is your duty."
You turned to him, hand shooting from your lap of its own volition to grab his robe and pull him close enough that your noses practically touched.
The funeral goers around you began to murmur--your Nonna's friends whispering in fear and shame, saying a prayer to spare them of whatever wrath would befall you for defying and possibly harming his eminence--but you ignored them.
You knew you might pay for it later, but for now your rage was warranted.
"Don't lecture me about duty," you hissed at Jinette. "My entire life has been about duty. Her life too. If you want me to go? You'll beg me. Not guilt me. But I promise that the answer will still be no."
Something wicked flickered inside of you, and you wondered if you could smite Jinette. Just a little bit. If you could channel the deep-rooted grudge against your plight and let him feel the consequences that waited to befall someone who had nurtured it.
Then you felt a slight disturbance in the room.
The calm of Nonna's soul was shaken from its bliss, and you could practically hear the sharp, punishing clicks of her tongue as you fisted Jinette's robe tighter and tighter. The flame of the candles beside her casket flickered, the leaves on the flower arrangements that filled the room began to wilt, and the whispers around you got louder until they roared in your ears.
Your eyes burned with unshed tears as the feeling of Nonna's disappointment surrounded you--filled you--and you fought it for as long as you could.
But if anyone here was going to reprimand you in this room, in this world, it would be her.
You let Jinette go and fell back into the couch with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. He heaved several heavy breaths and patted his chest pathetically.
"Tomorrow," you told him as Nonna's soul and the murmurs of the people around you settled back down into a serene silence.
The tears finally fell after he left, and you closed your eyes as Eddie's ghostly touch softly wiped them away.
"Tomorrow..."
November 6, 1983
Twang.
He enjoyed it.
Twang.
Enjoyed plucking the guitar strings and letting the reverberation travel along his fingertips and into the very core of him.
Twang.
Deep down in that dark pit where you seemed to hide, every note was like a starburst of brightness and good feelings. Things so foreign and forgotten to him now, yet still so integral to Eddie Munson.
He wasn't Eddie anymore though.
So he resented the fact that he enjoyed it so much.
"Play something," you would whisper in those hidden depths, like a devil on his shoulder, and he constantly fought the temptation to follow that urge. "Play me a song, I know you know how."
He never gave in though.
Could never give in.
It was bad enough that he hid you from Henry, that he even listened to you at all. But feeling something--doing something--was better than feeling nothing in the boring, timeless eternal void of the Upside Down. So he would allow himself these brief visits to the trailer, he would tolerate your soft words and the ever-present softness of the ghost that seemed to haunt him here, so he could pluck a few twangs of the guitar strings and bask in the sparks of euphoria they would bring.
And it was enough. It had to be enough.
Then, when he got bored or hungry or irritated by you, away he would go again.
"I would argue that me being annoying is the reason you still keep me around."
He hissed at you and pulled his hands away from the guitar spitefully.
Twang.
He watched as one of the strings seemed to pluck itself and debated whether he could reach out and take a swipe at you, but there was a sudden pain beneath his sternum. Odd, seeing as he barely felt pain in this body now. He clicked his claws together contemplatively, then hesitantly rubbed at it to soothe the ache, and as he did, he felt the echoes of your soft sigh somewhere deep inside him.
He faltered for a moment, unsure if he should feel some sort of satisfaction that he had comforted you, or resentment that he had fallen for it.
He hated you. Hated your presence there. Hated that you were somehow here when you left him to this fate. Hated that you made him weak again when Henry had remade him to be strong. Infallible.
You might very well be his downfall one day.
And still he couldn't fathom being without you again.
He growled deeply and, unexpectedly, the trailer shook around him, walls clattering, remnants of knick knacks falling.
For a moment, he watched it in awe. Believed that he was the cause of it. That the power Henry had helped him unlock had been activated with his spite.
Until everything started to shake.
The Upside Down became unsettled, the very ground beneath him shifting with some seismic agitation. Roiling and churning, changing.
There was a cacophony of restlessness through the collective consciousness as all of the creatures of the Upside Down felt the disturbance. As Henry felt the disturbance and questioned its origin, because it had not been of his design.
Almost immediately, he was singled out amongst the masses, ordered to his Master's side.
Who else could find the cause of this turmoil than Henry's right hand? His loyal servant? The Beast he created to strike on his behalf, to herald in the end?
Eddie didn't hesitate.
He left the trailer and took flight swiftly and dutifully, beating his wings powerfully to get to Henry as quickly as he could.
To get away from you as quickly as he could.
You and your comfortable constant presence in the respite of the trailer.
“Do not be afraid. Our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.”
― Dante Alighieri, Inferno
#aasb#as above so below#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#Eddie Munson x oc#Eddie Munson fic#stranger things fic
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no because hearing thomas shelby say: “the deal is, you belong to me. my property. no one touches my property,” is what’ll keep me fueled for the next 3-5 working weeks.
#“I touch myself but it’s still you anyway.”#FUCKING EXCUSE ME#I AM PANTING#SCREAMING#not even into my pillow#just howling#lo talks#peaky blinders#thomas shelby#lizzie shelby
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Hi, I'm bad at talking to people, especially online, but I make comics and maybe it'd be nice to read what you people think, so I'm putting myself in the void? Will it echo or will it engulf me and regurgitate silence?
#I love to take one semi shaped thought then trip and fall and end up with a ten page mystery meat sandwich.#if you have ideas I could fall down the stairs to-pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-am I rizzing anyone yet-pleasepleasepleaseple#my askbox is open#anyway. hazbin hotel fans im looking at you.#unrelated but I feel like the void would have tumblr#my art#art post#hazbin hotel#alastor#ALTRUIIIST DIED FOR HIS FRIEEEEEEEENDS SORRY TO DISAPPOIIIINTTTT#if that man touches one feeling with a ten foot poll he will combust#that said lets watch him go up in flames#note says things#doodles#appleradio#duckiedeer#im not sure what to feel about the duckiedeer tag#id go with Two Clowns One Circus myself#you know what yeah that'll be my tag for them#two clowns one circus#hazbin lucifer#hazbin alastor#hellaverse#vivziepop#anyway if youre still reading this-hi! im going to stop typing now. have a good one
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Bakugou is a stumbling, fumbling nerd at best. But once he realizes that you become even more flustered than him? The fucker won’t leave you alone.
He’s not a fan of PDA, mainly because he doesn’t like seeing it so he doesn’t like acting it out in turn, but he grabs your hand one day while you’re out. Paparazzi is swarming you and he doesn’t want you getting lost in the crowd, so he plucks your hand from where it’s tucked in your (his) hoodie pocket. He snatches you up against his side and pulls you in until his hand drops yours to protectively wrap around your shoulders instead, bringing you against his chest. He thinks you might be hurt after you get inside, when you’re too flustered to look him in the eye for a while.
So he tests, experiments with you. Gives you a sweet little kiss on the lips when your friends are around, when fans are looking. He watches how you always smile a little, bat at his chest and push him away because now that he’s seen you like this, he’s gonna want more from you. At private parties, he has no qualms about rubbing your ass while you stand there, mid conversation with someone. You keep stuttering over your words and trying to bat him away gently, and he wouldn’t typically do this, but you’re so cute. So cute when the person finally walks away and you punch softly at his chest in embarrassment, how you squeak when he pulls you in a hug just to grab another handful of your ass.
Omg and doing joint interviews together!!!! Usually he’s pretty private about everything, but he likes sharing little details—not to embarrass or humiliate you, but because he knows you’re getting flashbacks of tangled sheets and sweet nights whenever he mentions a little detail. Or maybe, you find yourself patting his thigh jokingly, before looking over at him, a smile stretching your face. But the evil little fucker is only smirking at you, his eyes low, posture slumped as he spreads his thighs just the tiniest bit wider. He doesn’t even say anything, just glances at how high your hand is on his thigh before looking back up at you, an eyebrow cocked. You snatch your hand away as if he’s burned you, and the interviewer can only laugh. ANNOYING!!!!! (lovingly)
#I would throttle him so hard#is this self ship…?…..mayhaps…..#I just get very flustered very easily despite being a natural flirt#I can give but the moment it’s reciprocated???? PUDDLE of GOO!!!!!#reminds me of one time in hs this girl that liked me helped me button my coat up when I couldn’t get it#and it was like so intimate and sweet and I remembered I stared at her like 😳 for the longest time after lmfao#and she was all ‘you’re moving too fast you just gotta slow down. I can help you. lemme do this for you. you’re so clumsy’#and I am still flustered and in love HAHDDKJFKFJF#anyway I’m talking too much about myself lmfao#this came from the image of touching his thigh and he suddenly gives the nastiest bedroom eyes despite being in public#bc he knows it’s gonna fluster you ASSHOLE#that I love#I love him bye#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#bakugou treats! 🍬
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Maybe I’m okay with it if Hirano never traditionally “loves” Kagi. Or anyone. Maybe it never will turn into the same kind of love Kagi feels. Kagi is nevertheless such a source of inspiration and strength and comfort to Hirano. Even if he never feels a desire to touch or get married or whatever. Maybe he does it because Kagi asks and he loves making Kagi happy most of all. He wouldn’t seek it if not asked. But Kagi is always asking. And he knows it makes Kagi happy. Does anyone see the vision. Do you understand. Maybe kagi will be okay with it if Hirano never “loves” him the same way Kagi loves him. Because he knows how Hirano works and he knows how Hirano cares. And he knows he is unique to Hirano. He knows Hirano wouldn’t do these things with anyone else. And that’s still love in its own way.
#every day I convince myself more and more of aroace-spec Hirano#or maybe the perceived slow-burn is getting to me#it’s like. I kind of keep forgetting that there is still going to be more relationship and character development#but also. At this point in time at least they are so queerplatonic to me#AND it all wraps back around to the theme of different kinds of love#we do not love each other in the same ways. but that’s what makes it special#also a queerplatonic relationship answers all the weird limbo relationship stuff they have goin on in future ssmy chapters#idk. anyways. maybe im crazy#also all comes back to How do you quantify being someone’s most important person#Kagi WILL be the most important person to Kagi. it’s just a question of how that manifests#at this point I can’t imagine it manifesting in Hirano necessarily wanting to touch Kagi or saying things like I love you#it’s simply. laughter and happiness and comfort#they are already old together. do you get it#I never feel like I’m properly able to explain the feelings I have. whatever#surely someone gets it#sunnfish.kghr#Hirano to kagiura#Hirano and kagiura
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there's something so comforting about artists you admire talking about their own struggles and insecurities
#txt#was watching supereyepatchwolf's video on chainsaw man again and listening to fujimoto express regret about things he didnt learn#and how he's clearly envious of his peers is so... comforting?#i think about my own strengths and flaws and often times i get so frustrated with my shortcomings#im not good at drawing feet; my backgrounds are purposefully simplistic and lack a lot of detail; sometimes my designs have a tendency to#overlap or feel very 'safe' in terms of what i really want to do#its why; despite my love for clowning on media and animated works. i never want to feel like its from a place of malice#the joy of art is always seeing those little mistakes and nuances. its also noticing the achievements other creators have made that you#still lack#even for a certain hell-based show i love to poke fun at for its many. many issues. its undeniable how incredibly passionate the work is.#and i do respect anyone who is willing to get their flawed media out there (myself included)#i see stuff about people calling me their inspo or how flattered they are when i compliment their work and its like. gee. i hold myself at#such a high bar and even still im always surprise when people tell me how much my work moved and changed them#i really love writing just little fun things that i just dont really see anyone else touching and its kind of fun how despite my own#personal grievances with my own flaws and mistakes#people really do find things that they love within them.#anyways I know this is getting long but I’ve just been getting sentimental abt the creation of art#sometimes people make fun of me for love of drawing women and lesbians and bugs and so on#and while I will never let me deter me from my process. sometimes it does get to me#but then I remember that I love doing this and could ever see myself holding back#and knowing despite how other people feel. I have so many followers who resonate with my weird ass shit#that it’s all worth it. ya know?
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ur art is crunchy /pos !!! how do you have the confidence to use stuff that isnt pencil and cant rlly be erased if mistakes are made?
make more mistakes
ACTUAL ANSWER BELOW because it got too long. oops lol
anyway. i wrote “DO IT ON PURPOSE” because when it comes to doing a whole drawing with ONLY a pen- you gotta force your brain get creative- at least practice. in other words- work with what you have. it’s basically like solving a problem every few seconds-
because sometimes my hand eye coordination glitches for a split second. or maybe my hand shook or maybe the line is actually shit looking. but instead of scrapping the thing entirely i gotta to try and make it work. ok so if my line looks like crap here maybe i can make it a Part of the drawing by making everything look messier. OR maybe i can even just. hide it!! by coloring a thicker line along it too!!
you can actually HIDE a LOT of mistakes with a pen without erasing anything. and sometimes the mistakes are part of the art- like when i see the most beautiful art online and i see an uncolored pixel. what matters is your final output not the things you cant change now or mean nothing in the big picture
honestly going from sketch to lines and rendering with a pen is about weight control (like with a pencil- sketching yk) and not beating yourself up. in order to gain the “confidence” you gotta absolutely ANNIHILATE the need for 200% perfection. because theres beauty in a mess.
anyway so. when you get the basic stuff down like “in order to to make less mistakes with pen stuff- make sure youre used to what youre drawing already!!!” or “draw/doodle stupid shit with your pen and make it (pen) a PART of you and not some scary beast (pen)
i think it all stems down to forgiving yourself and just having fun. having fun is always my motto. if you ever go “oh no i made a mistake!!!” imagine me yelling “WHO CAAARRESSS!!!!!!!! (#love #positive)” in your EAR
#deltarune#susie deltarune#myself#ask#susart#GAHH SORRY ITS SO LONG OR SOMETHING#we have chronic ‘if you ask any of us a question ill literally take 5 paragraphs to answer it bc idk detail and context or shit’#ok bye how this helps????#mintyblitz#i would include more of our pen stuff but idk whats worth showing lol#bc we sketch with pens a lot. actually fucking hate sketching with pencils sometimes because ughh#when youre studying fine arts and have 500 black drawings ???? um. yeah. no. i dont want to touch a pencil everr AGAIN!!!!#GOD GRAPHITE EVERYWHERE!!! on my shirt on my FACE!!!#of course we still do painting and drawings with pencils and then line them after#but if im gonna doodle?? yeah. pen#also not to be a pen apologist but when a sketchbook ages the pencils fade#but pens are fucking awesome because water and air wont let it fade away#we actually use waterproof BALLPOINT pens (our fountain pen oviously is not waterproof)#(Not aponsored but buy panda oens theyre so cheap and you can paint watercolor on them girls)#anyway so the worst our penned sketches get is like. a lottle bleeding but thats cool ask in a sketchbook#pencils?? gone. blank canvas.#pencils are great but i need people to understand how convenient oen is#also pen for filling in form?? but can be used to draw? versatile. she can do anything
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Janeway in 'Nothing Human' vs Tuvok in 'Resolutions'
There's something here I know there is I can almost wrap my teeth around it.
#I can't watch Nothing Human bc the puppet really disconcerts me#but I cannot believe Janeway really came into B'Elanna's room after all that and the FIRST thing she says...her OPENER is#'Wow it smells awful in here~!'#DUDE....................TIME AND PLACE#HEHEHHE#C'MON MAN#B'Elanna: Is [putting it behind us] an order? / Janeway [normal!]: Yes.#'And what emotion is that?' C'MON MAN!!!!!!#Janeway & Tuvok#Kathryn Janeway#Tuvok#I can see why she and Tuvok are friends#'I understand you're upset but fall in line'#You can be upset but not if effects your work#<- Something which would be fine on a regular ship but is very difficult on Voyager#I think Janeway's certain coldness or ruthlessness which can be aimed at either friend or foe is an interesting#aspect of her personality#Ex: She and B'Elanna COULD have feasibly had a more touching scene together to close out the episode but they don't#I don't know if I'm explaining myself well right now I'm a bit ill and more than a bit tired#Something about uhh maybe....people under their command vehemently and emotionally disagreeing with them/their decisions??#you can disagree with me but not if you don't follow me anyway#Voyager a ship full of contradictions#they have to all work together and they are all closer emotionally than any other starship due to their situation#but they are also still 'at work' and are expected to follow orders. It's like a 'casual' hierarchy but it's still a hierarchy#and you can't fall too far out of line bc you're someone dear to me#but you're also a valued cog in the machine#and even though you ARE valued you ARE still a cog in the machine#but you're also my dear friend. and all of these things are true at once.#all of that of course but also Janeway & Tuvok are displaying a very particular kind of shared leadership style in these moments#Janeway is obviously on the whole MUUUCH more charismatic and understanding than Tuvok but still - when push comes to shove...
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i love dnd..i love playing heavy utility/support/backfield and i love having three to six attacks in a turn and an insane ac. at heart im a support player ill get my hands on whatever we're missing in a group
#looks at a druid a fighter and a bard fighter. okay cleric time.#i LOVE playing cleric turns out.#though abjuration wizard is still super super fun its a different flavor of support#it's not buffs it's 'i am going to transfer literally all that damage to myself and war caster style succeed my witchbolt concentration'#doing insane amounts of damage while taking damage (+ with temp hp and then just a lot of hp. im taking the tough feat as soon as possible)#aabria iyengar was right these abjuration wizards are craaaazy. but war domain clerics also fuck hard#my abj wiz is very much an experiment in 'what if someone who is not at all suited to this life tries to adapt as well as she can'#the point is that she isn't a cleric. do u understand. she's not a cleric and that's the point it's the. hbbbgbfhb. she's out here#functioning as a combat medic on some aasimar features + healing kits/potions + arcane ward. Look At Me#i also really enjoy playing nonreligious characters in these worlds where deities 100% exist not in a 'fuck the gods' way but in#a way somewhere between 'i'm all i need' and 'i called and no one answered' and 'may or may not go on an insane power hungry spiral and#try to get a touch of godhood' which is in part very due to my own agnostic and people-loving heart and 'haha what if i icarused this girl'#a resentful caution towards gods an immense respect towards religious companions and 'when your god isn't here to help. i will be'#anyway REACTION arcane ward you don't take damage im fine. next turn reaction shield ward's back up. the thing is.#she will drive her hp down. the ward isn't much like it goes past that temp hp. it's 14hp that shit goes down and carries to her hp#but it never drops. any leveled spell puts hp back into the ward. a 1st lvl shield puts it at 2hp and she can use it again#she is not suited for these conditions but my god it is fun to watch. i care her.#i explained that subclass feature to a player that's not in that campaign and said. like. yeah she can take damage. when her ward drops to#0 it carries to her. any leveled abj spell puts it back up. and she can use it and drive her hp down again.#do u understand what i am explaining to u! do you get it! she is and has always been a punching bag!#she was a very valuable asset to the army and the group she was drafted! into. because when she's there. people just don't fucking go down#aside from her. aside from her. AAAAH. she's so cool. she is very smart i am still riding the high of critting every turn w witchbolt and#reacting to ward a party member against a crit that would have dropped him by taking the hit herself. and she didn't break concentration#badass
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Keep seeing so many “hot takes” about Zukka in particular that basically boil down to “this ship isn’t logical because the characters don’t interact enough” and all I gotta say is…
Shipping has nothing to do with canonical interactions.
If you are limiting ships to “do these characters interact a lot” then fella, I gotta say, you are invalidating so many ships and limiting your imagination to embarrassing extents.
It’s fine if you don’t like a ship. It’s fine if you don’t get a ship. Clearly a ship you aren’t interest in isn’t for you.
But no ship is invalid just because there isn’t much or any interaction between the characters.
#zukka#but this goes for any ships really#lack of much interaction doesn’t invalidate a ship#Zuko and Yue don’t really ever interact but that’s a great ship!!#Azula never meets Yue but I’ve seen it shipped and it’s done well!!#why do you care so much about ships you don’t like and invalidate them in spaces meant for everyone?#you’re just bringing in negative vibes and it’s a shit take anyway#live and let ship#ask a friend in a private if you gotta grouse#feel free to also ask in an open way like ‘why do you guys ship this’ if you want stranger’s opinions#but don’t be like ‘this ship doesn’t make sense and you’re grasping’ when shipping is about transformation#like honestly#not naming any names or touching those posts myself because I don’t like stirring shit#but it’s honestly so ridiculous to shit talk ships#venting all my frustrations with fandom right now#kids these days don’t realize you can ship characters who have no connection whatsoever#or characters with themselves#or characters from different canons and media#and it’s all still valid even if it’s not for you#because your tastes will never completely coincide with someone else’s#just accept that you don’t like a ship shrug it off and move on to what you do like#I swear you will be so much happier and leave fandom a much happier place if you do#it’s all about finding things you like and staying in your own lane
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In offense to Lila Rossi
O...kay! Am I the only one who sometimes takes offense to Lila's entire existence? Even if she just stands there, looking at her on screen makes me want to grab the nearest pitchfork! So please, allow me to explain why I despise Lila Rossi in Miraculous Canon, and what my delusions say should happen for Season 6 regarding her character! Call it a stich, I'm still doing it because I can!
To kick things off, it's worth establishing what kind of antagonist Lila is supposed to be in the show. She's introduced in the finale of Season 1, Volpina (yes I know some lists have Origins last, but Collector picks up directly after so it's the finale), and from the moment anybody even mentions her, we get the hint that something is fishy. I'm quite sure it's Alya who first approaches Marinette and tells her about this "new girl" who's showed up at school. Apparently, "she" knows famous musicians, is very talented, etcetera. Marinette raises an eyebrow at this, but there's no real reason to question it yet since the audience has already seen that some of those things are true for her as well (see Jagged Stone). All in all, good little bit of foreshadowing and getting people intersted without going overboard.
Then we actually meet Lila in the library with Adrien. She seems pleasant enough, if a little infatuated, but this is Adrien. He has more fangirls that there are ticks on a goat, so he takes it in stride. All in all, Lila is cheery and excitable, happy to spend time with him. Not the most likable character in history, but also not malicious in any way. This is the expected behavior for some random teenager learning she's classmates with a supermodel. And since we get this whole thing from Marinette's point of view, the audience is encouraged to share her suspicions about Lila. We all know how the rest of the episode goes, and I'll get back to this in a sec.
Point is, when Lila first shows up, she seems interesting. Her lies aren't immediately obvious (or at least like 20% plausible given past events), and she appears to be infatuated with Adrien, just like Marinette. Sure, it looks a bit superficial, but who can blame her? We don't know anything about her yet, and it isn't completely outrageous to think that she might be giving out small lies to make herself more popular since she's the "new kid" and all that.
But after Volpina...we don't see her again until Season 3! Excepting Heroes Day Part 2, where she gets re-akumatized into Volpina for the whole illusion thing, I mean. Lila remains a mystery, and so far has been a nuanced character who we have questions about and know to be a cunning liar. Especially since in Volpina, Lila actually is being smart with her lies to Adrien! She plays up her persona of infatuated fangirl and extracts general information about the book he has, and plays off it by giving minimal details and still attracting his interest. It's only once Adrien has shown her the page about the fox heroine that Lila makes up a story about having the Miraculous in her family, and then she immediately goes off to cover her back by buying a fake Fox Miraculous from a "Gabriel" store.
Side note: This is the one and only time we see this happen, and I still have questions as to why Gabriel Agreste is selling jewerly that only someone with the Guardian's Grimoire would know how to design. Dead giveaway, but that's a general plothole in the show, and irrelevant to Lila.
The thing is, I love Lila in Volpina! She actually does manipulate Adrien pretty well, makes sure to subtly get all the information she needs, and then plays her part perfectly, to the point where he's on her side when Ladybug swings by to berate her for lying about having a Miraculous. Granted, Marinette's intense reaction doesn't do her any favors, but nonetheless Lila is actually good at lying in this episode! Now prepare to throw this out the window with Chameleon! Oh, Chameleon! What is even left to say about this episode that the fandom didn't tear to shreds back when it first aired? Welp, doesn't matter! I'm grabbing Hawkmoth's cane and beating the dead horse one last time, just because Lila pissed me off this badly when I re-watched it recently!
I have genuinely researched the lies that Lila spouts out in this episode, and I'm honestly baffled as to why the writing team even put them there? I'd think it takes more effort to think of something this ridiculous rather than a semi-believable lie? Let's break the two most ridiculous ones down real quick. Getting tinitus from being behind a plane engine while it was taking off. Now, I'm assuming Lila also lost a few braincells in this episode, because while while yes, if that were to happen one would have severe hearing damage...we're talking about going completely deaf. Not to mention that you'd have to ignore countless airport security measures to even get there, and that in some countries, it's very much illegal to be on the runway when a plane is taking off. So Lila would have gone completely deaf, forever, not to mention sustained actual injury from being right behind a plane as it's taking off. Do you see why this is so ridiculously unbelievable? And okay, for the sake of argument let's say that people do believe her. Miss Bustier has zero reaction to this information, which would have presumably caused a responsible adult to panic at the idea of a child sustaining such an injury. Clearly, this episode is designed to devour braincells from everyone present.
Then we move onto the moment that still infuriates me, the Napkin Incident™. I'm not going to go into too much detail because we all know the gist. Lila catches a napkin thrown by Marinette with her supposedly "sprained" wrist, and explains the reason she "hurt herself" was to protect Max's eyes from being gouged out! By a napkin, while he's wearing glasses! In addition, Lila blatantly lies about being best friends with Ladybug and having sustained other minor injuries, and all of this makes me honestly upset because I see what they were going for! I can see the vision here!
Lila lying about being best friends with Ladybug to gain Alya's interest! Lila making herself the victim and exploiting Marinette's eagerness to expose her to gather support from her classmates and take away her friends! She even says that's what she plans to do at the end of the episode! But...this never goes anywhere. Lila is almost entirely absent from the remainder of the season, and just...doesn't follow up on this? Instead all we get is Lila getting outrageous lies that require every other character in the room to lose the entirety of their IQ to even be plausible in the slightest. And the plot wants to pretend as if she's a master manipulator when all she does is tell extremely obvious lies that can be very easily disproven!
Even when she pretends Marinette pushed her down the stairs, nobody reacts in the way they should! Bustier and Damocles should have called in the school nurse, or a doctor to check her over, especially since Lila claimed to be in severe pain. It's completely unreasonable for adults to behave they way these two do whenever Lila is involved in anything. My point is that for Lila to be what the show says she is, she needs plot armor. People believe her just because they have to. It's demanded by the script. And it's infuriating!
It would be another thing entirely if Lila slowly approached each and every classmate and systematically inserted herself in situations as the "friend", or used small lies to slowly degrade Marinette's connections with others. She could ensnare Alya with little lies about Ladybug, and then act concerned and worried when Marinette denied everything without any proof (like we already see her do multiple times). And yes, obviously they can't devote another dozen episodes to focus solely on this, but the fact that we never see Lila even try to do it very much undermines her character. The narrative presents her as a master manipulator who pulls the strings from the shadows, and addmittedly she has some good moments like when she frames Marinette for stealing her necklace...but that can easily be disproven by checking security cameras, or by Adrien speaking up. Remember, he was there in Volpina when the necklace was proved a fake, and Lila is using the same lie here.
Not to mention that in each and every case where Lila lies, even in Season 5, the believability of that lie is solely dependant on the sheer incompetence of every (allegedly) responsible adult around her, and the fact that Marinette's classmates are contractually obligated by the script to believe her without a second thought. The problem here is that Lila isn't good at lying. What she says is either outrageous enough to warrant genuine concern if believed (ex: Marinette pushing her down the stairs. No adult would have made this girl walk back up that staircase without first asking if she was hurt and calling in a medical professional) or so plain stupid that it has everyone wondering where their lost braincells may have slipped off to. To give credit where it's due, Lila's manipulation of Chloe in Season 5 is actually pretty great and consistent with what we've been told she's supposed to be.
But...considering that by this point, (regarding Marinette's friends now) Alya knows her best friend is Ladybug, hates Lila, and was clearly right about the girl being a walking red flag...why does it take a DIY bathroom and a literal 300 IQ scheme to prove that Lila has been lying about things? Like, Alya, Adrien and presumably Nino (if anybody bothered to clue him in) should know that she's full of crap, and suspect her. Don't get me wrong, I love Marinette's whole fake bathroom plan. Genuinely made me marvel at how smart she is. But it also shows that the script still treats Lila as an Avengers-level threat...even if at this point in the story, her lies are just bad. We know from Chameleon she can't even keep her own stories straight (see Lila forgetting which ear her tinnitus was on), and this could have been an amazing detail the gang utilized to start convincing the others that she is lying.
The general problem with Lila's canon character is that she's underutilized, barely appears outside of when she absolutely needs to, and fundementally fails to be what she's been writen as, requiring her Villain Plot Armor™ to kick in and steal everyone's braincells away. I absolutely love the whole "Lila is a fox" characterization, because Volpina was literal genius! The metaphors and symbolism of Lila being cunning and always scheming? Amazing! But...what we actually get to see of her in action? Really, really bad. Also, I am not touching her three mothers with a ten foot pole, not until we get a canon explanation. Personally I ascribe to the Scarlet Lady AU version, but we'll see. Even the more obviously ridiculous things, like Lila having a whole secret lair in the Parisian Catacombs...I'd buy it. If there's IRL raves happening down there, then she could totally have a secret villain lair tucked away behind a few crypts or something.
What I wish we had gotten from Lila is honestly not a lot. Instead of just walking up to people and lying her ass off, I'd prefer to see her be more subtle about it. For Nooroo's sake, just get this girl to actually be cunning like all the fox metaphors want you to think! It isn't that hard to write a scene where she plays the "concerned friend" as Cerise to plant seeds of discord. Buggachat did it very well in "Open my Eyes", and it made me absolutely hate Cerise! And that's a good thing! Lila/Cerise/Iris/Whatever-other-identity-she-has-in-her-closet is meant to be hated by the audience! She literally is a "love to hate" character! And in Open My Eyes, Cerise actually did act as the concerned friend, she was subtle, she didn't always lie but sometimes twisted the truth just a little bit, enough to get the doubts to creep inside someone's head. I got so frustrated because I wanted Adrien to figure her out, but couldn't find a logical way for him to do so in the first place! Do you guys get what I'm talking about yet?
Subtle but convincing. Small and unnoticable until it's too late. That's how Lila should be, because it utilizes the most plot threads made by her lies. I can go on and on with specific examples, but I want to actually post this someday so I shall refrain. In conclusion, there are only two types of Lila.
"I'm going to burn your house down and smile while doing it, then find a puppy and kick it into a sewer before emotionally scarring someone to the point of needing life-long therapy" Lila.
And the "cunning, sneaky and subtly manipulative fox who drives people insane slowly but surely as she makes them have an existential crisis" Lila.
I vehemently refuse to accept her canon version, and fear for Season 6 if she doesn't change into one of the above, or at the very least stops being so incredibly in-your-face about it. It's infuriating (in a good way) when the characters don't know, but if the lie is as obvious as "How was my weekend? Oh, nothing much! I just went skydiving on Venus, that's all really!" ...do I even need to elaborate? Because that's what Lila sounds like 96% of the time!
Alas, I digress. Feel free to give your opinion about our resident lying wretch, I need to go take a break before her incompetence drives me insane. I'll see you all soon...but until then, Stay Miraculous everyone!
#miraculous ladybug#lila rossi#character analysis#rant post#listen i have a vision#and it's of a lila that doesn't suck#no offense to other lila fans#but there's a reason we all have a billion headcanons#instead of you know#watching the actual show#mostly because she's barely in it#ramblings#still not touching the issue of her 3 moms with a ten foot pole#even chat's extendable staff#i'm not kidding#i want to see what the writers come up with#because let's be honest#the whole mystery is an attempt to make her interesting again#and i'm here for it#but still#until they write themselves out of this corner#i sure as hell ain't trying to help#anyway yeah#i'll see myself out#have a good day
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hi guys i see we’re all being excited about whatever im sure great things are currently happening on qsmp and that’s amazing but just know im currently having a category 17 gay AND trans event thank you thats all
#the paris gig gave it us all#AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE ONLY THIBG THAT KEPT ME FROM IT WAS ??#‘presence of a legal guardian is required for minors to attend’ Killing myself rn .#like i had the money the transport wasnt that bad i literally DONT HAVE CLASS THIS WEEK and my birthday was four days ago IT WAS PERFECT#IT WAS MEANT TO BE#ive known this since october and i still haven’t recovered . i touched happiness with my fingertips and it flew away#anyway Erm look at the hot wilbur pics or whatever . im going insane#alex.rambles.txt#cc!wilbur#mcyt#lovejoy#wilbur loveposting
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I am on a mission to learn how to draw can you believe these are literally only 4 days apart I’m feeling so pussy pussy cunt cunt rn
#also I know it doesn’t look like Marcia I literally today learned how to draw facial proportions I can’t fuck around too much yet#also I liquified her she wrong so it’s a lil fucked up but#I’m v proud :)#didn’t even touch hair or body or anything but that’s fine I just want to learn to draw Marcia’s face right#that’s goal one#I will not rest until I get this down#I will become the expert in drawing Marcia’s face#also do you love that I can’t remember any makeup look except the red and white one#I’ve used it for like 6 drawings of her now#anyways it’s crazy what a single 10 minute video on how to properly proportion a face can do#also I don’t know what my style is yet bc I just started so obviously that factors into things#anyways!#artist advice is always welcome critique might (will) make me cry :)#encouragement is always… encouraged 😉#anyways I’m v happy with myself#even though I opened the canvas and lost track of time and blinked and it was 2 am#also can I just say it took me a few tries but I’m loving the lettering on her name :)#okay that’s it I’m going to brush my teeth and fall asleep#also I’m still trying to figure out all the secrets of procreatepls aid#marcia#marcia x3#marcia marcia marcia#drag race fanart#my art#also there’s only a one hour difference between how long it took to do these that’s so funny#wow#also in my defense!#I was trying out different styles so I was trying to copy a more cartoonish style#but still :)#also it looks so warm on my phone rn bc I have night mode on but the colors are so pretty on my iPad :) and presumably here once night mode
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