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#but that's because she's a huge part of the reason i'm struggling
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Starting to wonder what the point of this international affairs degree is if I don't want to go to grad school or law school or work for the state department. As usual talking to my mother was no help at all and just made me feel worse.
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tanicus-caesareth · 1 month
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guarana drama, damage control
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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months
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18 with Azriel because mans is taaaaall
Little Thing
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Summary - Azriel loves finding any reason to hold you, his height restricted mate, in his arms, and isn't ashamed to admit it.
Warnings - absolutely none really, slight swearing, just Az fluff x 1000
"I've been breaking my back to kiss you."
"I'm not that fucking short."
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The weight that occasionally pressed against the tips of his toes had become something he found endearing, because it meant that you were trying with all of your might to kiss him by using his feet as leverage to boost your own height.
Azriel was abnormally tall, his six foot seven to your five foot three was the source of copious amounts of teasing from your shared family, mostly from Cassian who always questioned aloud how Azriel fit inside of you, like it was all he thought about whenever he looked at the two of you.
"Would you like to watch since you're so intrigued about our sex life, Cass?"
"I, uh-," Cassian had stuttered that chill afternoon, the stars had blanketed across the sky, and you were stood in the centre of the lounge in your floor length skirt which only reached Azriel's knees, (he'd tried it on one day much to your delight); you were tapping your foot against the wooden floor, eyebrow arched and waiting for a real answer, "No."
Azriel had to give it to Cassian, and Rhys, and well anyone who questioned how Azriel, the brother with the largest wingspan, managed to fit inside of you. Cassian said often that his cock must rearrange your insides and he was surprised how you could walk around after your nights, mornings, and afternoons together, let alone go to work and live a normal life.
"Thought not. Shame, you could have learnt a thing or two for Nesta," Azriel chortled at your words and sent a wave of pride and adoration down the bond, a shower of affection that you lapped up.
"Ouch, y/n. That stung," Cassian fluttered his fingers over his heart and winced dramatically.
"Bite me," you flipped him off and headed back into the kitchen where the most incredible aromas floated from.
Once a month, you promised to cook a family dinner for them all, having negotiated your family away from the once a week they had begged for. It was as though they believed that you didn't have a life. The most decadent bakery in Velaris had your name plastered on the front of it in pale blue swirls, that was how you had met Azriel, after Feyre had dragged him into the store owned by the tiny fae female who made the best pastries she had ever tasted in her life.
The bond had snapped immediately for him when he saw you in your black apron dusted with flour, pink icing and white buttercream on your cheeks, hair strewn up but spilling over your forehead, boxing up a larger than you three tier cake without breaking a sweat.
The pastries you had made for him once you had decided to accept the bond, and the life that came with it, were almost as good as the passionate love he gave you that night.
Azriel loved everything about you, from the larger than life ferocity and sass you carried in your tiny body, to your equally ferocious loving heart; you were independent, talented, sweet, and kind, a ray of sunshine in his otherwise shadowed reality.
Though, there were two things that Azriel loved more than anything. The first was being able to find any excuse to lift you up in his hands, whether that be to help you reach the top shelf or fuck you against a wall; he wouldn't admit it easily, but he did purposefully hide things out of reach from you so that he had a reason to hold you in his large hands. The second thing he adored was how you would stand on his feet, on your tiptoes, to capture his lips on yours. It was such a sickly sweet part of you, but one that he wouldn't change for anything.
Hearing you strain, Azriel furrowed his brow, imagining you struggling to reach the second shelf of the cupboard in a home where furniture had been made for three huge Illyrians, not a tiny fae baker. Rounding the corner, he smirked at your form, he smirked at the way your skirt was hitched around your thighs as you clambered onto a nearby chair to hop onto the countertop.
Azriel sauntered over to you, laying his large hands on your hips and pressing his lips to the small of your back, grinning against your skin when you shuddered at the contact, "Need any help?" Azriel had moved the stool away from the edge of the counter, placing himself where it used to be.
Turning in his hands, you looked down on him with a wide smile, "No, I got it," you presented the bag of sugar to him and he took it from your fingers, placing it down for you, "Is this what it's like to be you? I can see so much up here."
Azriel chuckled, resting his chin on your stomach and peering up at you through his long lashes that always made you curse his Illyrian genes, "I guess so," he shrugged, locking his arms around your hips, enjoying the moment you had taken to run your fingernails over his scalp which drew a whine from his lips.
Taking his face in your hands, you leaned down and placed your lips to his, a tender embrace, one full of love and the faint taste of your vanilla lip balm that gave your lips the most incredible glossy finish, "How does it feel to kiss someone taller than you?"
Grinning, Azriel prodded, "Amazing actually. I've been breaking my back to kiss you."
You gasped, swatting his shoulder with the towel you had tucked into the back of your skirt, "I'm not that fucking short!"
His laugh boomed throughout the kitchen as you fiddled with the ends of your hair, "Okay, maybe I am just a little bit. Cassian's right, how do we have sex?" Azriel continued to laugh at your mumbling as he lifted you from the counter, placing you back on to the ground which felt so far away from where you were stood moments before.
Your mate bent down to peck your pouting bottom lip, pulling you into his body and stroking his fingers through your hair, "Who are we to question science? It works, that's good enough for me."
"It's definitely good enough for me."
"Oh I know. You told me as much last night - ow!" Azriel hissed as you dug your heel into his foot, frowning, he asked, "What was that for?"
Your cheeks flushed pink and you bashfully whispered, "I don't need Cassian to know what I tell you when we're doing that."
"You said it first."
"And?" There it was, the sass, the popped hip and arched brow, "Now move, I need to finish cooking and you're blocking my view."
Azriel smirked, "Oh my beautiful little thing, but I am the view."
A giggle floated through your lips, his favourite sound apart from when you were moaning his name beneath him, "You're lucky I love you," you fell into his open arms and pressed your lips to his clothed chest, to the exact place where your lips always met when you stood before him.
"I wouldn't change anything about you, you know that right?"
Humming in agreement, your hands wrapped around his back, "I know, Az," you pulled away, craning your neck toward the ceiling to look at him, "I'd change one thing about you though," his face dropped, "That you'd stop purposefully hiding things on the top shelf."
Azriel took a step back, "You know?!"
Scoffing, you turned, focusing back to the slowly simmering melting chocolate on the stove top, "Of course I know. I'm small, not dumb."
Azriel's warmth swarmed you, his huge arms nestled over your chest, and he rested his head atop your own, "All I can do is do it a little less. You know I like man-handling you. It makes me feel strong."
"Big Illyrian baby."
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Authors Note
Just a little drabble on a Wednesday evening x
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kaibutsushidousha · 2 months
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Kodaka April Fools tweets 2024
Lying just because it's April Fools' is so dull. Honestly painful to watch. Lying in general doesn't do you any good. In my younger days, I told every lie I could, saying some genuinely insane stuff about being a supreme leader of evil and whatnot, and thanks to that, now that I'm in my thirties, I got famous for all the wrong reasons and can't find a stable job because people think I'm associated with the yakuza... Sigh, I wanna deck my cringe younger self's face. Quit lying for fun while you can.
My classmates aren't doing great either. Thinking you're hot shit during your school days always comes back to bite you... My advice to my past self: slow and steady effort is worth more than any talent. Also, the part of life you spent larping with that silly horse laugh is not going to be one you'll want to remember later. I wish I could make that clear to him. White lies aren't a thing. Talent is never enough. My class is proof of that. Wanna know what my classmates are like now that we're in our thirties?
Akamatsu became a piano teacher. Her player skills capped off in her teens, it seems. But she's not that good at teaching so she's considered kinda mid at her job. And now she's struggling with the father of a student incessantly hitting on her. Tough world to live in.
Toujou opened a housekeeping company but she was too strict with her employees so everyone quit. And now she's doing everything on her own. Sucks to be in your thirties without any successors or employees. She's a prime example of how being so much better than anyone else doesn't do you any good. Well, she's always working for celebrities, so she's doing well financially, but I heard about some major court fight about a missing item under suspicion of theft from one of her clients. That can't be nice.
Yumeno got to her thirties still saying magic is real, so she's past the point of no return. She agrees that's an unhinged way to live, but she's too old to suddenly change gimmicks. Work takes her all over the country, but her gimmick doesn't allow her to publicly drink, so she has to get plastered alone in her hotel room after shows. I wish she could fix her life with real magic.
Harukawa? ...Haven't heard that name in a long time. Now she was a living edgy fantasy. The past tense was because I hadn't heard of her in a long time. I don't know the details, but apparently, she went to some war zone outside of Japan because her first love didn't want to date her. Takes some real edgelord to react to a broken heart like that, but if she's still alive, I have no idea how her thirties are treating her. My personal guess is that she's a mother of many.
Chabashira opened her Aikido school but is having a hard time attracting students. So she had the idea of starting an anti-sexual-harassment campaign that could double as advertisement, but thanks to her cluelessness when it comes to romance, she got canceled for mistakenly tossing men in regular couples. She's still doing the "degenerate males" bit in her thirties. Girl really needs to get on with the times. Rumor goes that she still downs huge packs of tequila bottles with Yumeno every now and then. Really don't think there's any salvaging her reputation.
Shirogane is an office lady still continuing her cosplay hobby on the side. She could be doing well if she knew how to keep her mouth shut but frequently rambles about cosplay history and etiquette, so no one likes having her around. Stay emotionally dependent on a single hobby long enough and your passion starts to close you off to others. That's her problem.
Angie was the most successful in the class! She made big money both on the art and the religion fronts. However, there were some controversies about her devotees selling counterfeits of her paintings at exorbitant prices and one magazine made a huge news coverage of it, which resulted in her catching the police's attention. She's been recently untraceable, with the rumors saying that she'll never be back to Japan.
Oh, and Iruma... Up until some point, she had the best life of all of us. She made big money off of her inventions' patents. So far so good. Things only started going off-rails after she married an ex-stripper. The two started a YouTube channel together. And later, her husband ran in last year's elections and lost big time. They got an awful debt from his election campaign and she had to get into side jobs to pay it off. And her husband? Disappeared. No word from Iruma herself about what happened. Tough world to live in.
No further updates from Kodaka in the past 3 hours, so I assume he went to sleep and will come back to tweet about the 7 remaining boys in the morning.
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xspeter · 15 days
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꥟ part of the “dancing with our hands tied” collection, Luke Castellan x Apollo!reader
꥟ IN WHICH… You discover that everyone at camp can tell.
꥟ W.C: 3k
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Capture the Flag is a camp staple. It’s practically what makes the camp what it is! The battle strategy, the team work, the training.. it was perfect.
“Explain to your idiot boyfriend that we should get the Aphrodite cabin because he already has the advantage!”
“Just because we have more campers doesn’t mean we have the advantage! How many times do I need to say that?”
Clarisse and Luke have this argument nearly every week. Always fighting about who gets what cabin, which battle strategies were ethical and which weren’t, that whole ordeal.
You just wish they’d stop including you in it. Especially when you’re trying to clean a little boy's scraped knees!
You sigh, shooting the Demeter child a sorry look, but he doesn’t notice. Instead, he’s got a huge smile on his face as he watches Luke and Clarisse bicker like siblings. “They’re silly!” He giggles.
You smile, placing a blue band-aid on his knee and helping him off the bed. “Yep. Sooo silly.”
He doesn’t spare you a second glance as he leaves, and you’re partially grateful and partially offended. You don’t linger on the thought though, instead focusing the rest of your attention on the two fuming teens.
“You already have half the cabins in camp! Just because our cabins bigger doesn’t mean you get to hog everyone!”
“We aren’t hogging everyone-”
You rub the bridge of your nose, annoyance building in your temples. Are they aware that this is still technically your place of work? You don’t hang out in the infirmary on the daily just for fun. As Apollo Head Counselor it was literally your job to be there, and they were just making it harder.
“Okay, guys, calm down-”
They don’t listen, instead just getting louder and louder. Some of the patients are starting to notice, and seeing as majority of them are younger kids, it makes them nervous. And nervous kids in medical settings? Never a good mix.
“Luke, you’re literally so stupid it shocks me that you’re even still alive.”
“Right, because I understand basic math and you don't, I'm the stupid one. Makes complete sense.”
You sigh, glancing at a little girl that has started fighting the medicine your brother was trying to give her. It’s already been a struggle to even get her to lay down, and they had disrupted any progress you guys had made.
“Can you guys stop yelling, please?” You strain, watching as another little boy begins to cry when Clarisse practically screams fuck you! at Luke.
Again, they ignore you, and you’re starting to wonder if they can even hear anything you're saying. You wouldn’t be surprised if not.
“You know what, Castellan? Why don’t you take your math, and shove it right up your-”
“Okay!” You intervene, grabbing them both by their wrists and dragging them out of the building. Honestly, you’re still not sure they’re processing anything you’re saying or doing, because the entire time you lead them outside they glare at each other like two children.
Once you’ve gotten a safe distance from the patients and any prying ears, you smack both of them upside the head. Clarisse yelps while Luke’s hand immediately goes to soothe the spot.
“Are you guys deaf or just plain selfish?” You ask, nostrils practically flaring. “I mean, did you not notice the patients in there or did you just not care? Because to me it seems like you just didn’t care!”
They both have the decency to look at least a little bit ashamed, and for some reason it almost makes you feel bad. You're not sure if it's because of the genuine guilt on both of their faces, or just your constant need to please. You’re betting on the latter.
Luke swallows, sharing a glance with Clarisse before both of their gazes fall to the floor. “We’re sorry.” Clarisse mumbles, rubbing her arm uncomfortably. To most, Clarisse was rude and rarely ever apologized, but that was just to the people she didn’t know.
If you really took the time to know her, you’d discover she was just as lost as the rest of you. And underneath that hard exterior, there was a sweet girl begging to be found. You just had to be willing to look for it.
Luke nods in agreement, “Really, really sorry.”
Your eyes dart between the two of them, arms crossing over your chest. Some part of you wants to continue raging on them, you feel like it’ll be a bit therapeutic. But, the more rational part of you knows how serious they take the game, and sometimes they just get too into it.
“It’s fine,” You mumble, sucking in a breath and dropping your arms to your sides again. “Just, explain to me again whatever it is you guys are mad about.”
They both go to speak at the same time, and you realize you should’ve been more specific with your wording. You put a hand up to stop them, and quickly say, “Without arguing.”
You don’t miss Clarisse’s eye roll, but you choose not to call her out on it. Luke glances at the dark haired girl, and she gestures for him to speak a bit more aggressively than you think was necessary.
He sighs, turning to you with a slight smirk. It was his signature one, the one that practically dropped trouble. “Basically, Clarisse wants the Aphrodite Cabin because they have more campers, but she already has more than half the cabins in camp. So, I think we should be able to keep the Aphrodite cabin.”
You nod, “Which cabins does Clarrise have?”
The Ares child answers, “Demeter, Hephaestus, Dionysus, and Ares- obviously.”
You assumed that meant the other cabins were on Luke’s team, and if that was true, that meant he had the majority of the bigger cabins. Which meant that Clarrise should get Aphrodite.
But, the puppy dog look on Luke’s face makes your heart skip a beat, and you wonder if maybe you could bend your morals for him. Just this once. It was just a game after all, right?
Unfortunately, Clarrise has this knowing look in her eyes, like she knows what you’re thinking. It makes you feel small, so you do your best to seem as nonchalant as possible and say, “Then Clarrise should get it. But, maybe give Luke Dionysus? Since there’s only two of them.”
A huge grin overtakes Clarisse’s face, and she sticks her tongue out at Luke. “Ha!” She shouts, pointing a finger in Luke’s face. “I knew your girlfriend would agree with me.”
Luke rolls his eyes, a slight blush overtaking his cheeks at the word girlfriend. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. We’re still gonna beat you.”
Clarisse just shrugs him off, shooting you a wink as she walks away. Your friendship with Clarisse definitely was unexpected considering your clashing personalities, but you loved the girl like a sister.
Luke sighs dramatically, bottom lip jutting out a bit as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You really couldn’t have just given them to me?” You snort, you know he’s not really angry with you, which is why you roll your eyes with a grin.
“Sadly, no.” You shrug, “Besides, we both know you’ll be able to win without them.” It was true, Luke’s quick thinking and obvious knack for battle strategy set him up for success. But, it was also pretty well known majority of the kids in the Aphrodite Cabin would rather spend their time braiding hair and gazing at themselves in puddles. So, you didn’t think it was that hard of a loss.
Luke chuckles, “Why? Because they’d rather stare at their reflection then actually play the game?”
You pretend to think, scratching your chin and gazing up at the sky. “Um, yeah, exactly my point.”
He snorts in response, allowing you to lead him back into the infirmity silently. You almost find it strange how he doesn’t even question you. Just… follows. “I didn’t think you’d be so stereotypical, Sweetheart.” He jokes.
You shrug, “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”
Luke watches as you push the door open, immediately going to greet a waiting patient. She’s a little bit older, probably around Percy’s age, but you still talk to her gently and kindly. Still treat her like a little kid, but not in a condescending way.
Luke’s not sure how you manage it. It makes his heart flutter in his chest for reasons he can’t explain.
“Yeah.” He sighs, eyes trailing your every move. “You are.”
You didn’t particularly enjoy being stuck in the medical tent during capture the flag. Not because you wanted to actually play the game, no, but because you were completely alone.
Some of your siblings always offered to stay behind with you, but you never let them. They’d be miserable staying with you, even if they wouldn’t admit it. Thus, here you sat, alone.
It wasn’t all bad. You enjoyed the peace, a rare thing to get at Camp Half-Blood, and most of the campers were too hell-bent on winning to even bother stopping by. Which meant you got to enjoy the unusual serenity all by yourself.
The birds sing hymns that you don’t know the words to, and the leaves dance together like professional ballerinas. It’s all very beautiful, really.
At least it is until Percy Jackson rips through the trees, a wide smile on his face and his chest heaving. His eyes dart around the opening, before they finally land on you.
You're sat outside the tent, jean shorts surely stained an unflattering green color and shins covered in shards of grass.
“Oh! Good, you’re here.” Percy breathes, jogging over to you. You stand, doing your best to discreetly wipe at your butt.
“Yep. I’m..” You let out a sigh, “still here.”
Percy just sniffs, giggling a bit and bouncing on his toes. He looks like a little boy who’d just been told he could get his favorite candy from the store. “He got it.” He says.
You raise an eyebrow, “Who got what?”
“Luke got the flag.” He grins, “I’m supposed to wait here to make sure no Ares campers cross the threshold.”
You nod. The makeshift infirmary was placed directly on the invisible threshold, but you found it a little weird Luke would send Percy to lookout for incoming Ares campers here when majority of them would probably be somewhere deeper in the woods.
You knew that, and surely Luke knew that, which meant..
You give Percy a sympathetic look. It’s not his fault he gets… distracted so easily when playing the game, but you also understood how seriously Luke took this. It just sucked he resorted to lying to the kid instead of coming up with something else for him to do.
“I see,” You mumble, eyeing a small cut on Percy’s knee. “What if I patch that up while you wait?” You ask, gesturing to the cut with your chin.
Percy shakes his head, eyes never leaving the woods. “Can’t. Have to make sure no one crosses.”
You sigh, chewing on your bottom lip. Percy could be so stubborn, that’s probably why he and Annabeth got along so well. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Besides, it’s so quiet you’ll be able to hear them if they do. Just come inside, alright?”
Finally, Percy tears his gaze away from the open area to you, and he’s got that familiar glint in his eye. Percy’s smart, he always had been. And you weren’t the best liar. “What do you know?” He asks suspiciously, pointing an accusing finger at you.
You throw your hands up in surrender, shaking your head. “All I know is that you’re bleeding and it’s my job to take care of that, okay? So let me do my job.”
You can see the inner battle in Percy. He wants to stay out and do what Luke told him, but he also knows the cut on his knee stings like hell. He sighs, lowering his hand and glancing cautiously to the clearing. “Alright… but, promise if we hear anything you’ll let me go back out?”
You smile, “I promise.”
Seemingly satisfied, Percy allows you to lead him inside and begin your work. The floor in the tent was still grass, which meant the chair he was sitting in was quite unstable on the ground.
He rocked on it, eyes going wide when it leaned just a bit too far back. You snort when he does, and he sheepishly rubs his hand on the back of his neck.
You begin your work with no words exchanged between you, instead humming a familiar tune.
“That’s the song you sing at the campfire, right? Here comes the sun?”
You nod, glancing up at him. Percy smirks, hands messing with his helmet. “Luke said that was his favorite song, and I could never really understand why because it’s just… it feels odd to me for someone like him to like that song. But I think I understand why now.”
You’d like to pretend that Percy’s statement doesn’t make you go pink in the face, but it does. Luke said that was his favorite song? Of course, it didn’t automatically mean it was his favorite song because of you, but… it was nice to imagine, right?
“He did?” You ask, clearing your throat and trying to be as causal as possible. “And why do you think you know why? It could just be because it’s a catchy song.”
Percy shakes his head, “Nah. Trust me, it’s definitely not just because it’s catchy. It’s cause-”
The deafening sound of footsteps interrupts the both of you, and you both share a look before Percy is darting out of the tent and outside. You follow closely behind, a fresh pack of band-aids still in your hands.
Luke is leading a chase, with a giant red flag in his hands and a wide grin on his face. Dozens of campers follow him. Percy runs to them, jumping up and down and screeching something you can’t make out. Everyone is laughing, grinning. Everyone except for Luke.
His eyes look over the scene, looking for something you’re not sure of. It’s not until they land on you that it clicks. He was looking for you.
Instantly, he shoves the flag over to some unsuspecting kid and rushes over to you. It’s such an exhilarating feeling, being the person he looks for. You aren’t sure when that had happened, or what you had even done to deserve it- you just know you’ll thank The Gods everyday for allowing it.
Luke’s arms wrap around your waist, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug. Instantly, your senses are overrun by everything Luke. You can feel him, smell him, practically taste him with how close he is. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time.
Your arms wrap around his neck, dropping the pack of band-aids in the grass and standing on your toes. You grin into his neck, “I knew you’d win.”
Luke snorts, giving you one final squeeze and backing away, but his hands remain at your waist. It makes you feel faint. “It was nothing, really.” He says with a shrug.
You furrow your brows, unconvinced. You know Luke is more than proud of his accomplishment, so why was he acting so easy going right now?
“Is that so?” You ask, swaying on your feet. “So, you aren’t going to be bragging to Clarisse for the next week about how you beat her?”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh, no, of course I am. But, I can’t say that in front of a pretty girl can I? Gotta play it smooth.” He squeezes your waist as he says it, and your cheeks instantly fluff. A pretty girl. He was calling you a pretty girl.
Compliments from Luke were hardly rare, but he never said them in front of so many prying eyes. And it’s then that you notice everyone staring at the two of you, most all have knowing smirks on their faces, but some look on in jealousy. You hate to admit that it almost makes you prideful.
You were the only one Luke ran too- the one he looked for. That had to mean something, didn’t it?
You look away from him, rolling your eyes and shoving at him playfully. “Shut up, you flirt.”
He pretends to look hurt, giving you his best puppy dog eyes and grasping at his chest. “Oh, how you wound me!”
You giggle and open your mouth to respond, but Clarisse's familiar screech of anger interrupts you. “Where is he?”
You raise your brows, watching as Luke winces. While he would be claiming bragging rights for the rest of the week, being around her right now definitely wasn’t the best idea.
You suck in a breath, whistling lowly. “I think you’d better run.”
Luke’s lips thin into a line, tilting his head. “Yeah. Probably.” But, he doesn’t move. Instead, he just stares down at you. You raise your eyebrows in confusion, “Are you going to go?” You ask.
Luke grins slyly, “Yeah, just one more thing..”
It’s then that you feel the familiar warmth of Luke’s lips on your cheek, suspiciously close to your mouth. But, just as soon as he was there, he was gone. Running off and leaving you flustered and alone.
Your hands intertwine in front of you, a large cheesy grin on your face. You turn and begin walking back to the tent to clean up, but everyone’s eyes on you stops you. You glance down at your clothes, and then feel your face, checking for something- anything.
When you don’t find anything, you let out a nervous laugh. “What…?”
Everyone shares a look, one that you know all too well. You let out a groan, hands running through your hair, “It’s not like that!”
Percy shakes his head, “Yeah, okay. Of course it’s not.”
You just roll your eyes and storm into the tent. They were seeing things that just weren’t there! Luke was your best friend, and it was normal for best friends to be affectionate!
Hugs, compliments, cheek kisses… there was nothing else going on. Luke was just your friend being happy to see you.
That was all.
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taglist: @apolloscastellan @ddarling-ddearest-ddead
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fallingstqrss · 6 months
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kiss it better
request: can you do a one-shot just like the scene where coryo goes insane because he thinks that the reader left him in the cabin but she didn't and they just go to spend some quality time.
a/n: thank you so much for the request i love this idea!
summary: following the death of Mayflower and Billy Taupe you and coriolanus decide to flee the districts, hoping to avoid the persecution of the peacekeepers. however, when you seem to get lost in the woods coriolanus panics.
warnings: there is a brief description of mayfair's death but it's not detailed. coriolanus might be slightly ooc cause this is my first time writing him but i swear im trying my best.
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Coriolanus had made a huge mistake. he hadn't meant to kill Mayfair, he just panicked. He was just going to let her leave but then you walked in, making you a part of Sejanus' horrible plan.
"What's going on?" You spoke, eyes moving from Coriolanus to the weapons that lay on the table. Coriolanus saw as your eyes widened and he hurried to comfort you. "Corio, what's going on?" You questioned again, clutching onto his bicep, hoping for reassurance.
"Y/n, it's gonna be fine-" Coriolanus started, attempting to soothe you as he ran a hand across your cheek.
"Oh, none of you are going to be fine. I'm gonna tell my Daddy what all of you did and he's gonna string you up!" Mayfair spoke in an almost taunting tone. Her threat casts a chilling shadow over the room. As Mayfair turned to leave Spruce, fueled by tension and adrenaline, raised the gun to her back.
"I can't let you leave," Spruce spoke. Y/n took an unconscious step back, recoiling from the potential for violence. Coriolanus could tell you were scared and he felt horrible for being the reason you were involved in this. His mind was racing, he knew he had to get you out of there.
"She's bluffing, she won't actually do anything." Billy Taupe defended, eager to avoid any harm that might come to his girlfriend and to deescalate the growing tension in the room.
"Really? Was I bluffing at the reaping? Tell me Lucy Gray, how did you like your time in the Capitol?" Mayfair spoke, eyes staring at Lucy Gray, who gasped. Mayfair smiled as she turned to leave. Coriolanus jumped at the opportunity, lunging for the weapon on the ground. In a single second Mayfair had fallen to the ground. You gasped, your eyes fixated on Mayfair's fallen figure. Coriolanus was quick to shield you from the unsettling sight, positioning himself in front of you.
"I need you to go home y/n. I'm going to get this figured out. But you need to go home right now and you can't look like anything is wrong," He spoke, his tone firm and filled with urgency. "y/n, please." Coriolanus spoke again when you didn't move. You had stood still, trying to process the events that had just unfolded in front of you. Finally, you looked up at Coriolanus, a nod of reluctant understanding breaking through your shock. You trusted Coriolanus, he would get you guys out of this.
Coriolanus watched you leave, a mixture of relief and worry painted on his face. Once you were out of sight, he turned back to the remaining people in the room. He was determined, now that your safety was at risk nothing else mattered.
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That's how the two of you ended up here, walking through the woods, in search of life beyond the districts. Despite some attempts at small talk, the weight of the recent events hung heavily in the air. Coriolanus could sense you were struggling to come to terms with the deaths of Mayfair and, more importantly, your shared friend Sejanus.
"I just don't understand what happened. Sejanus' plan was horrible but he seemed like he was being careful," You rambled on, your voice heavy with confusion and grief. You were unaware of Coriolanus' involvement in the death of your friend. You also didn't notice the tension of the captured Coriolanus at the mention of Sejanus.
"He apparently wasn't careful enough," Coriolanus responded, his tone colder than usual, a deliberate attempt to steer away from the conversation surrounding Sejanus. He longed to focus on the two the two of you would spend together, the new life you could start. Coriolanus was taken aback when you came to an abrupt stop, forcing him to backtrack to stand in front of you. You stared up at him, your eyebrows furrowed.
"Do you not mourn for Sejanus at all, Corio?" You spoke, your eyes reflecting the sadness and confusion that weighed you down. Coriolanus felt a pang of guilt for being distant. However, the truth of Sejanus' death was a burden that he couldn't bear to share with you. He knew you would've never forgiven him.
"Of course, I do," Coriolanus spoke, his tone softer now in an attempt to console you. Coriolanus brought a hand to cup your cheek. "But, it was his actions that killed him." You still seemed unsure, offering a careful nod before turning your gaze to the ground. Coriolanus dropped his hand, moving to walk next to you again.
Eventually, the two of you arrived at the cabin shown to you by Lucy Gray and the Covey. Coriolanus couldn't shake the feeling of your silence, finding it unsettling. The two of you walked into the cabin, setting your things down. "We should fish for a while, we're going to need some food for the rest of the trip," Coriolanus suggested.
"Lucy Gray said there should be some poles under the floorboards," You spoke, avoiding eye contact with Coriolanus as you hung your belongings on the hooks by the door.
Coriolanus nodded, moving towards the boards he found to be loose. He lifted the boards, his eyes widening as he lifted the sheet to reveal the guns that had been used to kill Mayfair. You observed from across the room, a twinge of concern gracing your features. "What is it, Corio?" You questioned, his familiar nickname being a small sense of comfort in the moment of the unsettling discovery. He remained silent, picking up the gun as he turned to face you. Your breath caught in your chest as you saw the weapon, your mind flashing back to the violent events.
"It's the guns," Coriolanus stated, his eyes moving between the weapon in his arms and you. "This means we can go home," You hummed, nodding in agreement. The revelations held the promise of an escape. The promise of a way home. But, they also unearthed memories Coriolanus knew you could never fully forget.
"I'm going to see if I can find anything to eat around the lake, maybe that one root Lucy Gray mentioned," You spoke quickly, shaking your head as she grabbed one of the small shovels left near the door.
"Y/n, wait," Coriolanus spoke, sensing the uneasy energy that surrounded you. "It could be dangerous," Coriolanus spoke, his protective nature kicking in. You smiled as you recognized his instinct to protect you.
"Well, it's a good thing I've got this," You spoke, attempting a teasing tone as you held up the shovel. You could tell Coriolanus didn't quite believe you and you hurried out of the door. Coriolanus was worried for you but brushed off the interaction, trusting that you could take care of yourself. He rewrapped the guns, hoping to drop them into the lake, burying the echoes of the past.
Coriolanus stepped outside heading towards the boat. His eyes circled his surroundings, hoping to find you. However, he didn't see you. He looked around again, his breathing becoming more ragged as he called out for you. He was met with the horrifying echo of his own voice, no response from you.
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You had ventured into the forest after finding that Katniss was not ready to be eaten. You had hoped to find some berries, remembering the ones Maude Ivory had collected for you to eat. You attempted to ignore the way the trees seemed to close in on you, the path you thought you knew being erased. You ignored those thought, you had been going in a straight line, there were no place to get lost along the way.
"They should be up here," You whispered to yourself, letting out a sigh as you hoped to break the silence that lay within the forest. The rustling leaves and distant calls of birds engulfed you as you moved throughout the forest.
You had been walking for a while, looking around you realized you have never been in this part of the forest, a sign that you had gone way too far. You turned in various directions, spinning around as you searched for the way you came. Panic began to set in as you quickened your pace, unfortunately leading you to venture deeper and deeper into the forest.
In her disoriented state, you failed to see the root sticking out of the ground. Her foot caught on the root, causing you to stumble forward. Desperation clawed at you as you tried to regain your balance. However, the forest had other plans.
A divot in the ground forced you to the ground as your hands reached out to break your fall. The forest floor met you with a sickening thud, your head colliding with a moss-covered rock. The world around you spun, the pain in your head intensifying with every breath you took. As your consciousness slipped away, the forest seemed to blur into a blend of green and brown, the shadows seeming to dance together in a mesmerizing rhythm.
Back at the cabin Coriolanus grew restless as he awaited your return. The seconds felt like hours as he stared at the tree line, willing you to appear. Finally, Coriolanus was sick of waiting and decided that he would find you himself.
As he ventured into the forest the trees seemed to swallow him. His breaths came out fast, each step propelling him further into the silent forest. Anxiety was clawing at his chest, hundreds of what-ifs raced in his mind.
"Y/n? Did something happen? If something happens we can talk about it!" Coriolanus shouted, pausing as he awaited a response. But he didn't receive one, he only had the rustling leaves to greet him. The silence that surrounded him was deafening.
"Y/n, please say something. I need to know you're okay," He pleaded again. The forest remained silent, offering no hope to comfort his growing concern. Fear painted vivid scenarios in his head, each one darker than the last.
"Please, y/n, if I did something I'm so sorry. We don't even have to talk about it, please just come back with me." Coriolanus pleaded. His pleas became more urgent. His mood shifted from worry to complete despare quickly.
"Please, I can't lose you too." He spoke, this plea much quieter than the previous ones. His voice broke as he spoke, his eyes searching for any clue of you. His steps quickened as he moved around the forest, his handles trembling as he pushed branches out of his way.
"Please, y/n," He called one more time, assuming the worst. He'd come to the conclusion that you left him. It was either that or you were dead, but he couldn't bring himself to grasp the idea that you were dead.
Unbeknownst to Coriolanus, you began to stir on the forest floor. The pain in your head still lingered but the sound of someone's voice distracted you from the pain. You listened more closely as you tried to sit up. Your senses were snapped back into reality when you realized that it was Coriolanus' voice you were hearing. The closer you listened you realized how distressed he sounded and it practically broke your heart. You listened again to his ever-present calls, trying to hear which direction they were coming from, his voice acting as a life-line.
"Corio," you called out weakly, standing as you braced yourself on one of the trees. Coriolanus' head snapped in the direction of your voice. He hurried in that direction, his eyes wide with fear and relief. "Coriolanus," You called out again, wondering if you had imagined him calling for you.
"Hang on y/n! I'm coming," He spoke. Relief washed over him when he finally saw you leaning up against one of the trees, Coriolanus rushed towards you. In your disoriented state you barely even realized he had found you until he engulfed you in his arms. Your senses finally started to come back to you as you reciprocated the embrace, wrapping your arms around his waist.
Coriolanus pulled away for a moment, his eyes scanning your face, he could hardly believe he'd actually found you. He'd thought you were gone for good. Your eyes met his, being met with a vulnerability from Coriolanus you'd never seen before. Coriolanus hated the way you made him felt. He hated how worried he always was for you. But, he also couldn't deny how much he loved you.
"What happened?" Coriolanus finally spoke, brushing your hair out of your face to examine the cut on your forehead.
"I was looking for those berries, the ones Maude Ivory showed us and I got lost, and then I think I tripped," you began to ramble, stopping yourself to take a breath before speaking again, "It's all kind of a blur." Coriolanus nodded as he processed what you said, unraveling his arms from you as he wrapped an arm around your waist to help guide you back to the cabin.
"Well, I think we should get you back to the cabin," Coriolanus spoke and you laughed as you nodded. You'd had enough of the woods.
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Back at the cabin Coriolanus used one of the med-kits you'd brought to clean you up. Your heart swelled at how gentle he was, his hands moving cautiously over your face.
"So, will I survive?" You questioned, a smile gracing your features.
"I think you'll be okay," Coriolanus responded, a smile of his own coming across his face. But, you could tell the smile didn't meet his eyes. You could tell something was still bothering him. The sunlight pouring in from the windows illuminated the worry that was still present in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the fear he'd felt when he thought you'd abandoned him in the forest.
When Coriolanus finished cleaning the wound he set the supplies to the side and leaned in, placing a delicate kiss on the spot he'd just tended to. The warmth of his lips lingered on your forehead, a comforting gesture that transcended the physical healing.
"There, kissed it better." Coriolanus whispered as he moved away from you, cleaning up the remaining supplies of the med-kit.
Despite his comforting gesture, you couldn't ignore the concern that was still etched on his face. As he finished putting the med-kit away he turned to look at you, being met with your questioning gaze. "Corio, you've been on edge since we got back. What's wrong?" You questioned him, taking a couple steps closer to him so you could wrap your arms around his waist.
Coriolanus hesitated, his eyes betraying his turmoil of emotions. He opened his mouth to respond but the words got caught in his throat. Tension lingered in the air as you searched his face for clues on what he was feeling.
"It's nothing, y/n. Just a scare, that's all. Everything is fine." Coriolanus spoke. However, despite his attempts to comfort you, you could still sense his unease. You reached upwards, cupping his face to draw his attention.
"Come on, Corio. Talk to me," You spoke. Coriolanus sighed, he was torn between his desire to shield you from his concerns and the intimacy the two of you had always shared. Eventually, he gave in.
"I just... I can't stand the thought of anything happening to you. losing you in the woods, even if it was just for a moment, it terrified me." Coriolanus confessed softly. Your eyes softened at his confession.
"I'm right here, Corio. I'm not going anywhere." You assured, he nodded. "I love you, Coriolanus. Wherever you go, I'm gonna be there." You spoke, his words caught him off guard. The two of you had never used the word love.
"Y/n..." Coriolanus started, his eyes moving away from you. However, your hold on his face forced his attention back onto you. "I've never been good at this, relationships. I'm afraid of losing you, of not being enough." You nodded, you understood Coriolanus' insecurities as he'd previously voiced some of his concerns to you.
"Corio," You took a step closer, "I love you for who you are. I don't need you to be perfect." You assured him. Your words hung in the air, in that moment, leaning into Coriolanus, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss. Coriolanus, having been initially surprised by the kiss, eventually surrenders to the kiss. When the two of you pulled away you spoke again. "I want to go back to the Capitol, Corio."
Coriolanus looked surprised but that was overtaken by a look of happiness. He wanted nothing more than to return to his home and family, and now that you did too there was nothing stopping the two of you. "Wherever you wanna go, I'll follow you." Coriolanus spoke, repeating the words you'd said earlier, you smiled at him.
The decision being made, the two of you faced what leaving the woods meant. Coriolanus worked to dispose of the guns while you packed the remaining items you had at the cabin. As you walked out of the door you saw him pushing the boat back to shore. Coriolanus jumped out of the boat, outstretching his hand for you. You smiled at the gesture, moving to meet him, enclosing his hand with your own.
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tflaw · 1 year
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The idea of the handmaiden being shorter than the harbingers (like she's 5’0 ft) gets me going since they could easily lift her if they wanted to while having a rather rough lovemaking session.
Might have already sent this though, if I did then I'm sorry but my brain is failing to remember properly.
— THE HANDMAIDEN. PT2.
In the frozen land where the outcasts belong and the peculiar is home, tomorrow is never promised. Intertwined your fate with the harbingers might be, it’s in your best interest to remember: the cold swallows the weak and Snezhnaya knows no tears.
★☆ ! f!reader. part / installation of these drabbles. size kink as was stated in the ask. unprotected. not proofread. warnings for each character are as follows (lmk if i missed anything, it’s almost 2 AM here, my mind is foggy):
pierro — undertones of manhandling.
capitano — mentions of finger-fucking && foreplay. dacryphilia.
dottore — exhibitionism. voyeurism. he lets his other segments do you. creampie. undertones of overstimming just to be sure.
pantalone — rough sex.
tartaglia — foul legacy form. he’s sooo leaky.
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PIERRO !
who would’ve thought that there’s a hidden gem in the throng of servants in the palace? the fascination pierro has for you seems to go on unceasing. it is why he keeps you close. apart from your obedience, there’s one more charming thing about you that utterly has him bound and enthralled: you are small.
yes— small. he can control you in anyway he wants. flip you to his satisfaction, drive you mad with his brawn, and fuck you so deeply it will leave you mousy for weeks from the memory. sometimes he fears of breaking you, especially when he gives your little pussy such a fervid pounding that renders you shivering. you tell him it’s alright, i can take it: words that seem to drive him mad that he fixes you on his lap, holding your waist while watching your pussy sucking only his fat crown. impatient, he would dig his nails to your flesh, releasing a gutted moan as he slams you down and fills you with his hard shaft. all virility and nothing less than that.
CAPITANO !
despite not divulging the reason for his lusting after you, capitano thinks that it’s clear as crystal to anyone who possesses good eyesight. the equation is simple: he’s huge and you’re small. aside from the surge of adrenaline it pumps into his veins, the sight of you in bed is one he finds hard to forget.
capitano makes certain that your cunt is drooling before ramming his cock in you. call it safety measures, because it is. despite his infamous nature, he wouldn’t deliberately hurt you if he can help it. however, he sees your wet cunt with white trails of arousal dripping from the hole, and he’d drive himself in with force that takes away a little bit of his sanity. and yet, after all the preparation of finger-fucking, his cock remains a tight fit. your hole gapes around his veiny shaft, utterly small and struggling and fluttering. he releases a grunt, then, pitching his hips slowly despite the physical ache it causes. and even with the measured thrusts, he finds you trembling and crying from being filled to the brim.
DOTTORE !
dottore is a keen observant. and perhaps that is an innate nature that shapes who he is today. there are things that he realizes only after thorough scrutiny. and one of his favored thing— or person— to observe is you. he has been aware of how small you are ever since you’ve started to stand meekly beside him, hoping to get a good look on his experiments while trying your hardest not to be a nuisance. it’s such a foolish little thought: one that has managed to slip through the piles of ideas inside his brain and one he’s more than willing to carry out for the sake of his curiosity.
it has taken him only a few tweaks to use the clones fit to accomplish the experiment. this particular study gives no relevance to his existing ones, and yet it has brought him great pleasure to see you fucked out and senseless by his segments lining up to shove their cocks in you. dottore overlooks the whole experiment, rejoicing at the sight of your puffy cunt expanding based on whose cock and how large said cock is while fucking and abusing your walls. you look so good on his table with your pussy leaking from too much cum jammed inside it. the loads of his segments are an unstoppable current, thick in consistency and languid in motion while running down from the table. an experiment of self-indulgence— one that will keep him awake and one he will continue observing.
PANTALONE !
he likes to measure things. especially the mora that flows in his hundred bank accounts and in snezhnaya. for a man as ambitious as pantalone, seeing the actual size of something gives his ego another shove. he’s probably not the only one who have seen it, as it is palpable whenever he observes how the other harbingers look at you. the difference in your height is one that is not hard to miss— and most certainly the reason that drives him in a frenzy whenever he fucks you stupid.
pantalone grows a habit of pushing the back of your weakened thighs to display your pretty little cunt. before fucking you senseless, he’d press his cock just above your pussy lips, as if measuring how deep he’d go once he’s sheathed inside. he has the image tattooed on his brain, and yet he couldn’t seem to get enough of its sight. you can say it boosts his pride, fucking you with his sheer length, watching the pulsing veins around his shaft shape their thickness on your plumped pussy. until he’s out of order, going ballistic with lust. he fucks you with a need of one deprived man, savaging you to the point of surrender. because as much as he loves the sight, he loves how you cling to him and rake your nails from his back to his buttocks more. you love it as much as he does. and there is no denying, especially when you lock your legs around his body, securing that his cum would go straight to your perfect cunt and nowhere else.
TARTAGLIA !
tartaglia has nothing but adoration whenever you wallow in his wildest fantasies. which sometimes makes him think that it is due to your work as a handmaiden in the palace. although he has not heard any objection from you, this particular fantasy he’s been concealing for so long planted doubt on his mind. and so his joy had been immeasurable after obtaining your approval.
he was not wrong, though. it is truly a magnificent sight. tartaglia finds it fascinating how your pussy seems only slightly bigger than the crown of his cock in his current form. you can barely take him in: pussy hole stretched and gaping around his tip. the pre-ejaculate he’s squirting since earlier seems almost enough to pump your womb swollen. for a second he fears that his cock wouldn’t go in, debating whether he should change back on his human form instead. but you have urged him to go on— giving him full consent to ram his whole length in you. with patient thrusts he did— or at least tried to do so— until he couldn’t endure it any longer and pistoled his hips between your thighs, penetrating your cunt to the root and pumping thick loads that looks exactly like pre-cum. you have a long night ahead of you, it seems.
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yippee! apologies if my takes are horrendously bad
my personal take on the matter is that i definitely think the dark worlds can work as a metaphor for escapism without undermining the darkners' personhood. it can be more than one thing, yknow? the darkners are important, their lives matter. and the lightners do go to the dark world as an escape from the problems they face in their own life. but that's not the darkners' whole PURPOSE, yknow? i mean. according to the laws of the universe of deltarune yes darkners' "purpose" is to serve the lightners but like it's not their whole purpose in the STORY.
it's sort of like how, in UNDERTALE, LOVE represents how distant you've become, how easy it is for you to hurt people. but it also literally gives you the power to destroy the world.
i think the biggest reason i believe escapism is at least a part of deltarune's narrative is queen.
queen's whole speech in both of her fights is about how she intends to provide escapism for the lightners (so that they will worship her but also so that they will he happy). she wants to turn the whole world into a dark world, so that everyone can live in bliss and not have to worry about the woes of the light world. she mentions "Staring, Tapping, To Receive Joy. Staring, Tapping, To Avoid Pain." which is like pretty much the definition of escapism
she wants to help Noelle with the problems she faces in the light world ("Noelle. Who Will Be There To Help Her? Her Strange And Sad Searches" and "My One Idea To Help Noelle, Failed") by just... shoving it away for a blissful fantasy world ("Wake? No, She Has Already Awakened Too Much. Let Her Close Her Eyes And Sleep Away, Into A Darker, Darker Dream.")
...i forgot the rest of what i wanted to say!
well first off, thank you for your ask! I'm going to get extremely in depth in my answer, so bear with me here. sorry it took several weeks to write this. the escapism reading of deltarune is pretty deeply entrenched in fandom, and to refute it, I felt it required a full-length essay to completely explain my viewpoint.
yes, "the lightners desire escapism" does not automatically translate to that being the darkners' actual narrative purpose. escapism can be a theme without dehumanizing those who are used in order to escape - in fact, I've read a number of stories that use someone's desire to escape to HIGHLIGHT how they're hurting others in pursuit of that. I believe that toby fox is definitely capable of telling a story about kids having a valid desire to escape, and about them grappling with having inadvertently created a world of real, living people as a result.
(I'll reiterate again that this is not the story arc that generally shows up in fanon. the common consensus is that the game will end in an omori-esque "growing out of" the dark worlds. it's why I have a huge dislike of the fanon escapism reading, given that the darkners are shown as people whose lack of agency parallels kris' own. it would feel cheap if the resolution to that plot was that the darkners were actually never meant to be agents in their own fates. but this is a digression.)
the reason why i DON'T believe that this is a story that toby fox is telling is because of the way the world, themes, and characters are written. put simply, it just doesn't come across as congruent with the story being told.
deltarune's main themes are agency, fate, identity, and control. this is a conflict that shows up in nearly every major character, is baked into the worldbuilding, and is the central struggle involving us, the player. the protagonist of deltarune is literally possessed by us against their will. the darkners are objects that have no choice but to serve and be discarded. over and over again, there is emphasis on roles that characters play - and crucially, roles that are imposed on them.
what would escapism mean, in this thematic context? in real life, escapism can represent any number of things, but in a story, a major narrative theme generally has to dovetail with other major narrative themes in the work. I would argue that escapism in deltarune would likely mean going to a place where characters are able to choose for themselves what roles they embody, or even to discard the notion of roles altogether. a fantasy of control is the only way to escape a reality where you have no agency. and honestly, it's hard to imagine that something could count as an escapist fantasy if you don't even get to choose whether or not you participate in it.
let's talk about kris.
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I see a lot of discussions around kris that say that kris goes into the dark worlds to escape. the dark worlds are posited as kris' fantasy of heroism. it's a world where they can seem heroic and cool, a world where they can have friends. this theory makes a decent amount of sense on the surface level, but only until you consider that kris is being controlled in order to go into the dark worlds. and it is not a control that they appear to welcome.
if those worlds represent kris' fantasy, then why don't they get to choose what happens in those fantasies? why are they being controlled by an external force, one that they actively push back against? if it's really an escape, then why does everything about this world reflect their lack of agency? if they really think this world is just a pure fantasy, then why do they care if spamton falls when his strings are cut?
because they're being deliberately obscured to the player, it is hard to say how kris actually feels about many subjects... but I do seriously doubt that they view the dark worlds as an escape. they don't act in a way that is consistent with that. they resist their lack of agency, and what little we do see of their reactions to darkner characters doesn't suggest that they view those characters as part of a disposable fantasy, either. they seem to have complicated feelings on ralsei. and of course, one of their biggest emotional reactions in the game is to the spamton fight. I would argue that that suggests they have empathy for spamton, which is a hard emotional reaction to have if you believe he's just part of a fantasy. not impossible, mind you, but it seems unlikely that kris believes that all this is simply fantasy.
also, considering that snowgrave both actively discredits the idea that the dark worlds are mere fantasy and is actively traumatic for kris... I seriously doubt they'd open another dark world in chapter 3 on a snowgrave run if their motive was purely to escape. on that route, they've seen the damage we can cause in a dark world. they know that berdly has sustained lasting damage due to our actions, assuming he's not outright dead. why would they want to try and "escape" to a place like that again now that they know what can happen?
the only answer is that they have a motive that isn't escapist.
now, as for ralsei... what part does he have to play in all this?
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ralsei does play a lot to the fun, fantastical elements of the dark worlds. he delivers the prophecy that kickstarts the adventure. he flatters both kris and susie endlessly when they act appropriately heroic. he welcomes them into the castle and even makes nice rooms for them. he initially seems tailor-made to enable a fantastical experience where no real issues can ever complicate anything, and where the pain of reality can successfully be hidden from. but there's a lot of complications to the idea that he might represent an escapist fantasy.
the first, and what honestly seems the most important to me, is that he doesn't encourage kris and susie to remain in the dark worlds. he is welcoming and kind, but once the adventure is over, he prompts them to return to the light world. he wants them to deal with their more "real" problems like homework. that doesn't feel like he is trying to facilitate escapism in them. a real fantasy would encourage you to stay in it, wouldn't it?
and while ralsei is definitely invested in making sure the lightners are happy, there are always cracks that show. he isn't able to make kris ignore what happened in the spamton fight. he isn't able to convince susie to be peaceful and kind. and in his very essence, he represents a number of uncomfortable ideas. very importantly, he represents a number of uncomfortable ideas to kris.
this probably ain't your first fandom rodeo, so I'm not going to explain all the different ways that ralsei interacts with kris' personal issues. there's plenty of posts on it out there. what i will point out is, once again, it feels odd that a character who seems tailor made to bring up kris' most uncomfortable associations with their lack of agency and their outsider status in their own family would be part of a fantasy of escapism to them. you'd think that they'd prefer something that didn't have an inbuilt hierarchy, a prophecy that denied them autonomy, or especially a person that reminded them how little they fit into hometown.
that doesn't mean kris doesn't care about him at all - it seems very likely that they do. what I mean to say here is that he just seems ill-suited to an escapism reading, both behaviorally and on a conceptual level. it doesn't seem like that's at all part of his servitude towards the lightners.
of course, there is another non-lightner entity that ralsei seems diegetically engineered to serve. but I'll discuss that later.
now as for susie...
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yes, susie definitely views the dark worlds as more fun than the light world. and why wouldn't she? the light world sucks for her, and she doesn't seem very aware of the fact that the dark world can also suck. you could definitely make the argument that she views the dark worlds as a fantastical escape from reality... were it not for the fact that she treats her darkner friends with just as much importance as she does kris and noelle.
can someone treat components of an escapist fantasy as real and important? of course. but given deltarune's themes of agency and control, as well as the fact that darkners exist in servitude to the lightners, I feel like you'd have to make escapism tie into forcing others into a lack of agency if you wanted the theme to feel coherent with the rest of the work. this would require susie to be limiting the agency of the darkners around her. and obviously, she doesn't do that. her presence around them might be inherently limiting, just by simple virtue of being a lightner, but she isn't aware of it, and clearly is uncomfortable with the idea of limiting anyone's agency. she encourages ralsei to make choices. and she supports lancer in basically anything he wants to do. her treatment of lancer is integral to chapter 1's narrative, and it seems like that treatment of ralsei is integral to the ongoing narrative as well!
her preference for the dark world feels very rooted in her engagement with it as its own reality. rather than trying to avoid her real-life problems by engaging in a pretense, she seems to simply want to spend time with her friends in a place that isn't cruel to her. she isn't ignoring any of the dark world's problems in service of that, either. she notices when things don't line up. if she thought of it as a fantasy, wouldn't she be inclined to ignore issues that impede the fantasy?
and critically - like kris, she does not intentionally choose her imposed role in the prophecy at first. she steps into the role of bad guy to resist it, but that role is limiting too, and she eventually acquiesces to being a hero. it's never something she's completely on board with, though. she actively pushes back the limitations that the role places on her. I find this important to reiterate when we are discussing the notion of the characters viewing the dark worlds as fantasy.
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noelle has a complicated relationship to the dark worlds. susie tells her that it's a dream to make her accept the strange reality she finds herself in, which works well on her. she continues to think of it as a strange dream throughout the chapter. (though, like the others, it is not a 'dream' she entered of her own volition!)
it is also a markedly unpleasant 'dream' at times. she has her agency restricted, is kidnapped, has to evade a controlling monarch, and is even tied up in a weird evangelion cross thing on the hand of a giant robot. it's not purely fun. noelle does like scary things, and while it might be healthy for her to have an experience where she stands up to a controlling adult figure... again, the circumstances make it difficult for me to assume that this is a fantasy she would choose for herself. not impossible, mind you, but it's not the first reading of the situation that comes to mind.
and while she does say she wishes she could dream like this every day in the normal route, that does happen specifically because she was talking to the girl she likes. it makes sense she'd find that pleasant. I don't think that necessarily equates to her finding the dark worlds escapist.
and importantly, this isn't the sentiment that she expresses in every route.
again, there's a lot of analysis on snowgrave, so I won't bother regurgitating it much here. but it's nightmarish for both kris and noelle, and very likely fatal for berdly. noelle needs to believe that the event is a dream, for her own psychological safety, but one of the most important parts of snowgrave...
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...is that its events, and the world it took place in, are very, very real.
noelle wants to have the strength to face her problems, both in the regular route and in the snowgrave route. rather than escaping from them, she views the "dream" as a chance to practice dealing with her day-to-day issues. it's just that in the regular route she finds that strength authentically, and in the snowgrave route, that desire is manipulated and pushed until she is forced to kill berdly. she doesn't interpret snowgrave as an escape gone wrong. she views it as a dream that became a nightmare. and those are two extremely different things.
but i haven't even gotten to the biggest thing that undermines the concept that the dark worlds are a metaphor for escapism! which is: this fucking guy is dead wrong about everything.
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so full disclaimer - I really love berdly. I think he's slept on a lot in the fandom because he's annoying and weird. which is fair, I suppose, but I think ignoring him hinders a lot of people's understanding of deltarune's overall narrative. because berdly often illustrates a lot of concepts in the game, but his narrative framing as a joke (usually...) prevents the player from taking it completely seriously. he has things to say and ideas to show off, it's just that he's often very loud and kind of dumb in his expression of them. which is kind of the point!
ralsei brings up the idea that the darkners are meant to serve the lightners very seriously in chapter one. by extension, and by way of the literal mechanics involved in a dark world's creation, we can infer that this logic is probably something that also applies to the dark worlds themselves. they are allegedly worlds and characters that only are supposed to fulfill a dream of the lightners. but due to narrative framing and deltarune's themes, we know that that's not the full truth. however dark worlds and darkners are created, they deserve to have their own agency. they can't just exist to fulfill a higher being's wishes.
you know who else undermines that view of the dark worlds? berdly! berdly does!!!!
because berdly is the only lightner in the game so far who does take the dark worlds to be an escapist adventure! he wants to turn cyber world into smartopia. he views this as a chance to be a cool hero. he believes he's going to get the girl, he's going to shape this world to his own liking, and maybe also he's going to get queen to acknowledge him or something so he stops being a forgettable little bluebird. and not only does none of this happen, his steadfast belief that it will happen is continually a joke within the narrative!!
berdly's wishes for uncomplicated escapist fantasy are flat-out denied by the dark worlds themselves. as a lightner, those worlds should be serving him. he should have the power to do whatever he wants within the bounds of an escapist fantasy. these npcs should be singing his praises!
but he doesn't have the power. and this world doesn't sing his praise. because it just isn't an escapist fantasy. he isn't right to view it that way. his wishes for heroism are always going to be thwarted.
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so now that I've gotten all that out of the way, let's swing back over to the subject of your original ask. queen.
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because, like berdly, queen's entire character arc is about how she's completely wrong about what the lightners actually want.
queen would in fact like nothing more to place the lightners into an escapist fantasy. she believes that that's the best way to serve them and make them happy forever. as a darkner, queen has very much internalized the idea that a lack of control is what actually makes people happy. since darkners have no choice in their destinies and are supposed to be happy in it, and since she personally finds her role as a darkner fulfilling, she believes that that's true of all people everywhere. if you want to make people happy, you just have to remove that pesky personal agency!
so she spends the story trying to force the lightners and particularly noelle into situations where she controls them in order to make them ostensibly happier. she does genuinely believe that this is the right thing to do, but as she finds out eventually, she's just wrong. noelle doesn't want that. queen believes that escapism is why the lightners use the internet... but that's totally wrong too.
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while there are other searches mixed in, noelle is trying to use the internet to find her sister. instead of trying to hide from whatever happened, noelle wants to figure it out. queen's thesis about noelle and the lightners is proven wrong even before she personally encounters noelle in the dark world. it's just that queen doesn't realize it due to her limited perspective.
the concept of escapism being brought up with both queen and berdly is not there to say that the dark world is escapist. rather, it's there to say that it isn't. despite the dark worlds being a fantastical place, they are extremely real. to view them as a means of escape is foolhardy at best. you cannot act as though you are above consequences within them.
themes and ideas exist within the story for a sake of an audience. so let's get into the final character I need to discuss here. hopefully this will tie my thesis of deltarune together neatly.
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that character is of course us. the player.
when creating a piece of fiction, an astute author will often identify and anticipate an audience's reactions to certain things in their work, and write things in such a way that they elicit the desired reactions. in essence, a writer is directing the "character" of the audience. how we feel and how we are anticipated to react to things is an integral part of nearly every fiction.
that effect is far more overt when dealing with metanarrative fiction that diegetically involves the audience. since the fiction is saying a lot of things about the general 'you,' the audience in aggregate, your reactions to certain things in the story have to be finely cued and anticipated by the author, so that the author can thus commentate on the reactions that you have to the story. the "character" you are assumed to inhabit is posited by the author to have certain traits.
to explain what I mean in plainer terms, I'll use the player of undertale's no mercy route as an example. because undertale is commenting on the way rpgs generally work. the player's behaviors in no mercy are attributed by characters in the story to be the result of us acting like a typical gamer. we kill the characters in the game because we want exp. and more than that, it's because we want to see everything the game has to offer. the role we inhabit in this role-playing game is that of a completionist. you could say that that's assumed to be our "character" in no mercy.
deltarune also posits that certain things are true of its audience. by being written to evoke certain cultural ideas, rpg tropes, and references to undertale, it guarantees that its audience will probably have certain traits, and spends a large amount of its conceptual focus commenting on those traits. one of those traits is nostalgia, which is probably an idea that I'll expound upon in a further essay because it's quite integral to my reading of deltarune. but the main one I mean to discuss here, and why I went off on this tangent about how audiences are dealt with in metafiction, is that we are posited as someone who believes in the logic of certain narratives.
deltarune's writing evokes a lot of portal fantasy narratives. alice in wonderland, narnia, pretty much every story where it's revealed at the end to be all a dream... the story of deltarune superficially resembles a lot of those. this, I think, is responsible for the popularity of the escapism theory. because those stories are often at their end about a child learning to put away fantasy and grow up, people tend to believe that deltarune must be about the same thing. but I truly don't think that deltarune is trying to do anything with that aspect of portal fantasy narratives, at least not directly. its main characters aren't involved in that exact type of coming-of-age arc.
instead, deltarune is very concerned with what happens to characters in fantasy, and specifically fantasy rpgs. if your world is deemed to not matter because it's a dream, what does that mean for you, who has no choice but to live in it? if you are an npc whose role has been predetermined for you via script, then can you ever decide for yourself what you want? what if you want to matter? what if you want to be your own person?
as the major controlling force of deltarune, we are initially cued to believe that deltarune is like a dream. it superficially fulfills so much of what we want from undertale fanon. hometown seems like it's a perfect idyllic town, at least until you start noticing the obvious cracks. and remember what I said about ralsei earlier? he is so reminiscent of asriel, and extremely eager to help us. it's not a stretch to say that making us specifically view deltarune as dreamlike and idyllic is probably part of his purpose in the game.
I would not say that we are posited as escapist. but the idea of escapism as brought up with queen and berdly is meant to strike at the heart of a much deeper idea that deltarune is trying to deconstruct. because if we view deltarune as a dream, escapist or otherwise, then we are inclined to write the internal realities of the characters inside off. the dark world can disappear without it mattering. we can control kris without it mattering. if it's all a dream, what does it matter? why should we care to let its characters go free? aren't we supposed to be in control?
if deltarune is an rpg... what is the significance of us interacting with it?
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bellalove69420 · 3 months
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My main struggles with the percy jackson fandom, but its an ADHD rant, that ended up being wayyyy longer than i meant it too.
I can't wait for them to do a heroes of olympus show (I hope so), and most of these leo girls are so surprised when he isn't this super hot, conventionally attractive guy, because in the book he isn't supposed to be conventionally attractive. He's supposed to be kinda ugly, that's one of the reasons he's so jealous of Jason.
It's one of the things that frustrates me most about the percy jackson fandom, is some of the erasure that goes on, in lots of characters. I mean so many. Not only Leo, but also Nico, Piper, Hazel, and Frank. People think of these characters in such ways that are so base level.
There are probably many others, that is just off the top of my head. Now there is things that are understandable, like how Hazel is just a cutie pie, but even then, I feel like people erase how truly powerful she is.
Also, minus nico, this happens mostly to the characters that are people of color, and I'm white, so I don't want to speak to much on something I don't understand. But it is something that happens very much, is that people see these characters as what they are on a base level, but not on a deeper level. Whether that is Piper and how she is barely brought up to be Native American anymore, and Rick Riordan hasn't done this, but I feel like this fandom has majorly white washed her. This has also happened with Frank, who, yes, in the book he does say many times "I'm from Canada, I'm not really Chinese" but thay doesn't mean as a fandom we erase that from him entirely.
This also happens with LGBTQ+ characters, I STILL find people writing nico di angelo x FEMALE readers. Which is unexeptable and not okay. That man has been out as gay for 10 YEARS, and people are erasing that as such a huge part of his character. What is wrong with u, there is a whole chapter that made me SOB as a 13 year old, that you people are not going to take away from me. Especially from someone who was outed.
Also, there are so many fanfictions I read where I feel like everyone's ADHD is just gone, like not there at all. What happened to that? That's such a huge part of how people discovered they were demigods. That's coming from someone who struggles from ADHD, also, if you don't know how to write it, do research, Google is free, and easy to use, and there is many good resources for ADHD research.
So, yeah, as a whole for such a wildly inclusive book series, that I love so much, I feel like this fandom needs to work on the erasure of minorities, as a whole.
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moni-logues · 1 year
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Dickless
Pairing: Taehyung x reader
Genre: basically pwp but like, enemies to lovers if you REALLY squint
Summary: Your boyfriend won't go down on you and it is a Problem. Fortunately, your friendly neighbourhood fuckboy (or is he??) Taehyung is there to lend a mouth hand.
Word count: 11.1k
Content: oral sex (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, infidelity, some very poor communicating
A/N: it's another repost!!! because this just hit 2k notes on the old blog 🥺🥺🥺 I have a secret soft spot for this fic, ngl. I'm secretly (not so secretly) proud of the smut; I tried to do something a bit different with my writing and I like how it came out, at least those parts. I have not edited this at all due to the aforemetioned bottle of wine so, here it is as it always was
ETA: the sexual politics of this one are 🥴😬 because reader essentially won't accept the truth that sexual incompatibility is both real and a valid reason to not continue a relationship. No one should be pressured into doing something they don't want and that extends to her bf! It's not his fault! She should have dumped him months ago! And she didn't! And she's in the wrong for that!! To be clear: she is in the wrong!!!!
That said, she's not a total cunt; she is struggling with it and doesn't want to break-up with him because she does (did) love him and she feels like she should just be able to give up this thing because it's only her, it's only what she wants, it doesn't really matter-- except it does matter; what she wants does matter and she had to come to terms with that and the fact that that means she and her bf can't be together.
* * *
You remembered the first time you saw Taehyung. You were at a bar your friend had dragged you to because she knew he would be there; they had been sleeping together for a couple of weeks and she wanted to ‘casually’ run into him as he had stopped replying to her texts.  
“There he is,” Tara had hissed, pointing to a tall man across the room, dark curls bouncing on his brow, long fingers curled around a wine glass, and an intense look on his face.  
Moving further into the room, it had then been revealed that the target of his gaze was another woman and, despite your friend’s best attempts, Taehyung was not interested. She had dragged you to the toilets where she cried, real, huge tears. 
“It’s just been a couple of weeks, hasn’t it? Did you say you were exclusive?” you had asked, trying to be sensitive but shocked at the display of emotion. She wasn’t usually like this. 
“I’m not crying because I’m in love with him or something!” she had replied, her voice thick with tears. “I’m crying because he’s never going to sleep with me again!” 
“What?” 
“If he’s done with me, then that’s it. I’m done for. I’m done with sex.”  
She had fixed you with a wet, shining stare. 
“No one is as good in bed as Taehyung.” Her voice was hushed, awed. “He... You just don’t know if you haven’t slept with him, ok? He has ruined me. I can never sleep with anyone else, not knowing that he’s out there somewhere, not sleeping with me. No on-” 
“No one is that good at sex. Come on; it’s not like he’s got a magic dick or so-” 
“Yes, he has! He absolutely has. But it’s not just his dick – it's his everything. I’m telling you, y/n-” she had sniffled for dramatic effect, her tears were mostly dried- “he’s the best I’ve ever had or will ever have and, honestly, if he ever shows any interest in you, take it.” 
“I have a boyfriend.” 
“I don’t care.” 
Your mouth dropped open in shock; she knew your boyfriend; you had thought they got along well; but she interrupted you before you could argue. 
“I’m serious, y/n. This is a hall pass situation. Do not turn Taehyung down.” 
“So I can end up like you, crying over his dick in a toilet?” 
She had fixed you with a death glare but could not exactly say you were wrong.  
* * *  
That was months ago now. And, somehow, Taehyung kept popping up in your life. At the pub, at bars, at a party where you weren’t even sure he knew anyone – he just happened to be there. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him because you didn’t even know him, but you certainly had no interest in getting to know him. Men like him were ten a penny and, despite what you had been told about him, you were not convinced he was all that in the sack, because men like him never are. 
He was certainly handsome; you wouldn’t deny that. But attractive? No one that smug, that arrogant, could ever be attractive to you. Someone who thinks the world is at their feet, that everyone should fall to their knees for them, that other people exist only for their delectation... That was disgusting, not sexy. Even if you hadn’t had a boyfriend, you knew there was no way his ‘charm’ could work on you. All bluster and machismo and that quirked eyebrow and little smirk? No, thank you. 
“You know, I’ve been seeing you around a lot, but I don’t think we’ve ever spoken.”  
The voice came from behind you and you knew, without having to look, who it would be. You replied not even bothering to turn around. 
“No need. I know who you are.” 
“Oh? And who am I?” 
He was next to you then, leaning against the wall, your arms touching. 
“You’re Taehyung with the magical dick.” 
“Oh, is that what they call me?” 
“Well, I don’t-” 
“You just did.” 
“I don’t but rumour has it... Of course, I don’t believe a word.” 
“There are rumours going around that I have a magical dick and you don’t believe them... You know there’s one way to know for sure?” 
You turned to him, then, stared into his eyes – wide, innocent, as if he wasn’t just asking you to fuck him without even knowing your name – and scoffed. 
“No, thanks. I have a boyfriend.” 
“And does he have a magical dick?” 
You didn’t hesitate, not really, not for more than half a second, but it was enough. 
“Oh, sweetheart, that’s a real shame. You want my number so you can pass it on to him? Maybe I could give him some tips?” 
“Ugh, goodbye, Taehyung.” 
You pushed yourself off the wall and made your way through the room, but he followed after you. 
“Or,” he continued. “You could just take my number and not pass it on, maybe keep it for yourself. In case of an emergency or-” 
“Emergency? What emergency might I possibly ever have that I would require your assistance?” 
He leant down, so close that you could smell his shampoo and his drink on his breath. His cheek barely brushed yours as he brought his lips to your ear. 
“Maybe your boyfriend with the disappointing dick can’t get you off and you’re so on edge that you think, god I’d do anything, anything, to come right now, but you can’t. Then you’re lying there, hot and bothered and unsatisfied, yearning for something, someone, to come and sort you out, to show you the kind of pleasure you’ve not even ever dreamt of. And you think of me, and my magical dick, and you think, oh how I wish I’d taken his number; if I had his number, I’d call him right no-” 
You put a hand against his chest and pushed him back.  
“I’m not taking your number and I’m not going to call you. This-” you gestured broadly to him “this doesn’t work on me. You’re a fuckboy and I don’t fuck with fuckboys. Goodbye.” 
As you walked away from him for the second time, he didn’t follow and you had to stop yourself turning around to see if he was still looking at you. It didn’t matter if he was or not, but you liked the idea of denying the undeniable man, of being one person he couldn’t charm, couldn’t win over. You didn’t care if his dick really was magic or not because you knew you would never be finding out.  
* * *  
The next time you saw him was a few weeks later, at a party. He was on the sofa, slouching low, an empty glass held slack in his hand, dangling at the end of his wrist. He wasn’t talking to anyone, not making moves or scanning for prey; just sitting, staring into space. You turned away from him; you didn’t want to think about a sex god right now; you didn’t want to think about sex full-stop. You ideally wanted to not think at all. You left the room. 
Later that night, when you went back inside, you saw him again. He was still sitting on the sofa, empty glass (the same one?) in hand, still staring into space. You briefly wondered if he was on drugs and, if he were, whether that was deliberate or he’d had his drink spiked. Most people seemed to be ignoring him, or they hadn’t noticed him at all. You sat down next to him. 
“No conquest tonight?” 
“Nope.” 
“What? Not even one? You can’t be telling me your magical dick would miss an opportunity like this: all these people, drinks flowing, inhibitio-” 
“I said no.” 
He tipped his head over the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling. 
“Are you ok?” 
“Yep.” 
“Are you lying?” 
“Yep.” 
You had to stifle a giggle and take a pause before you continued. 
“Don’t tell me you’ve had your heartbroken. Mr Magical Dick, Mr Fuck Anything That Moves, Mr Don’t Keep Anyone Around For More Than Two Weeks has had his little heart broken?” 
You could see his jaw work as he tongued at the inside of his cheek, as if deliberating whether or not he would confide in you. 
“In a manner of speaking.” 
The way you gasped was uncharitable, and on a different night, you might have been less callous, but misery loves company and you were delighted to find out that someone else – Kim Taehyung at that – was having relationship problems. You were just fixing on your best retort, tidying it up on the tip of your tongue when he spoke again. 
“Before you say whatever clever remark you’re currently labouring over, my fucking grandmother died, ok? So save it.” 
“Oh.” Surprised didn’t even come close. “I’m so sorry.” 
“Yeah, whatever.” 
He stood and walked away but you followed him, up the stairs and into an empty bedroom where he collapsed on the bed. You followed him in and shut the door behind you, but stayed next to it, unsure what to say or do. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” you ventured. 
“No.” 
“Do you want to drink about it?” 
He lifted the empty glass in his hand as if he were about to take a sip and then held it out to you. 
“Sure.” 
“Ok, uh, stay here then and I’ll be back.” 
When you returned to the bedroom (bottle of unfortunately cheap vodka in hand), you thought he must have left: the bed was empty. Then you saw his feet poking out from the other side and found him lying on the floor. You took his glass, poured him a drink, and watched him as he knocked it back. He grimaced and looked at you. 
“This is horrible.” 
“Yeah, I know, but I figured it wouldn’t be missed. Sorry.” 
He held his glass up for more. 
You sat, drinking in silence. You didn’t know what to say to him and he was obviously not interested in conversation so part of you wanted to leave him alone, but he hadn’t told you to leave, and he was still holding his glass out for more, and you didn’t really feel like he should’ve been alone. So, you stayed. It was nice, actually. You hadn’t really been in the mood for a party – you had just wanted to get out – so you were enjoying the quiet. You were enjoying the way the vodka was making you warm, edges all fuzzy and soft, the noise far away.  
“She basically raised me.” 
His voice was quiet and thick; you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or just talking.  
“Yeah?”  
“She-” 
He looked at you then, his eyes not quite focusing, and stopped talking. 
“You can tell me about her, if you want.” 
He shook his head with a groan and drew his knees up to his chest, dropping his head between them.  
“I’m going to go home,” he said after another short while had passed. 
“You sure?” 
He nodded. 
“Can you get home ok? Did you need me to get you a taxi or call someone?” 
He shook his head and fished his phone out of his pocket, waving it at you, unlocking it to order a car. You almost didn’t reach out for it, but you knew you would feel responsible if something happened, so you took his phone and entered your number into it. 
“Please let me know when you have got home safe, ok?” 
He looks at you, suspicious, and then playful as that all-too-familiar smirk returns to his lips. 
“It was all a ruse, huh? Get me drunk and give me your number under the pretence of concern for me, huh? I knew you wanted me.” 
“What I want, Taehyung, is to not be the last person to see you alive and the subsequent subject of a murder investigation.” 
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re the one who calls me magic dick...” 
He winked at you and then turned, waving a hand in your direction, stumbling down the stairs. You figured you might as well call it a night yourself.  
You were back in your apartment, washed and undressed, tapping impatiently at the side of your phone, not sure if you should wait to hear from Taehyung or assume that he’d forgotten and just go to sleep yourself. Then a message came in from an unknown number. 
A head shot, but with enough of his shoulders displayed to make it clear he was topless, his black hair splayed on the pillow behind his head. He had his eyes closed, his fingers in a V over his mouth. 
???: Didn’t die. 
???: Unlike my grandma 🙁 
You choked on surprised laughter. 
y/n: Glad you got home ok. Sorry about your gma 🙁 
* * *  
Your phone rang the next evening while you were making tea and you answered without looking who was calling. 
“Hello?” 
“What the fuck is this I hear about you and Kim Taehyung?” 
It was your boyfriend. 
“Uh, I don’t know; what did you hear?” 
“Apparently, you’re fucking.” 
“WHAT?!”  
“Apparently, when you were out last night, you and Taehyung went into a bedroom for a very long time and he came out looking very pleased with himself.” 
“Ok and? That means we’re fucking, does it?” 
“I don’t know; I’m asking you.” 
“Ok, well, no, we didn’t. We didn’t really do anything. We just sat and drank.” 
“What do you mean you just sat and drank? What even is that?” 
“I mean we literally sat and drank. I wasn’t in a good mood and neither was he, so I nicked a bottle of vodka from the kitchen and we sat in the dark, in silence, drinking it. That’s it.” 
There was an aggrieved sigh from the other end of the phone. 
“So, it’s my fault, is it? Is that what this is about? You trying to make me jealous or some sh-” 
“What are you talking about?” 
“I’m supposed to believe it’s just a coincidence that, almost immediately after we have an argument about me not going down on you, you end up at a party with the most notorious fuckboy in the fucking country?” 
You could feel anger swelling within you, sweat pricking on your back and in your palms. 
“Believe what you want. I’m telling you nothing happened.” 
You hung up. You were not about to be accused of cheating by a guy who, frankly, already owed you an apology. As if you would’ve done that. Even if you had been single, you wouldn’t have slept with Taehyung – not ever, but certainly not last night. You had a little more decency than that. Hell, even Taehyung had more decency than that. You tried to push it from your mind; if you had been your boyfriend, maybe you would’ve thought it, too, or at least, felt insecure about it or unsure. You could admit that it didn’t necessarily look great – you were very aware of Taehyung’s reputation and maybe you should have considered that before shutting yourself in a room with him. But you also knew you hadn’t done anything wrong. So you were prepared to let it blow over.  
* * *  
Taehyung: You coming tonight? 
y/n: Coming where? 
Taehyung: Jimin’s party? 
y/n: 🤷‍♀️ not invited 
Taehyung: Ok, I’m inviting you. 
Taehyung: So you coming? 
y/n: Can’t. Have a date 
Taehyung: You dumped disappointing dick??!!! 😄😄😄 
y/n: No. 
y/n: He’s still my boyfriend. My date is with him. 
Taehyung: Boo 😒 let me know when you finally leave him 
y/n: Fuck off, taehyung 
* * *  
You didn’t see him for a few weeks after that, until you found yourself actually searching for him, peeking into dark corners in clubs and bars to see if he was there. You weren’t sure why you did; you weren’t friends and you certainly weren’t interested in him. But you were intrigued. You always assumed people like him were shallow – truly of the no thoughts, head empty kind. You hadn’t really considered that he might be a real person under there somewhere. Albeit a smug, arrogant, charmless, shameless person. Who may or may not have had a magic dick. 
You thought about what your friend had said, the first time you met Taehyung. How she had cried, not because she liked him, not because he broke her heart, but because she would never get to sleep with him again. You couldn’t imagine it, sex that good. Not that the sex you had was bad (it wasn’t), it was good, even, but you couldn’t imagine it being so good, so much better than now that it would inspire such a reaction.  
You began to think about it more and more as things with your boyfriend went from bad to worse.  
The club was hot and loud and you were happy to be drunk and dancing. Happy, that is, until you weren’t. Your phone buzzed once, twice, three times, four times. You knew it was your boyfriend and you knew it was because you were out without him. Which was kind of the whole point; you didn’t want to speak to him. 
You wandered outside to the smoking area, for some air, to scan your eyes over your boyfriend’s messages and see if there was anything worth replying to. And there was Taehyung. He hadn’t seen you yet and you knew you had only a few seconds before he turned around and noticed you. You realised, with what might have been clarity or might have been too much gin, that of all the people in all the world that you might speak to about your problems, Taehyung was probably the best: experienced, not your friend, you didn’t care about his opinion of you, and he didn’t think much of your boyfriend. 
“Hey, Taehyung,” you called as you approached.  
He turned and his smug, little smirk turned into a genuine smile when he saw you. 
“Y/n! It’s been a while. Still being disappointed in the bedroom?” 
You almost changed your mind. 
“Shut up, Taehyung. I have to ask you something.” 
“Go ahead.” 
“You have a lot of sex, right? Like, a lot of sex with a lot of different wome-... people? Right?” 
He shrugged. 
“Some, sure. Maybe a lot. Depends who’s asking.” 
“Whatever, you know what I mean. When you have sex with someone with a... with uh, a vulva, do you go down on them?” 
He looked at you as if you had suddenly grown another head and, when he answered, he spoke slowly, as if you were an idiot. 
“Yes, if they have a pussy, I go down on them.” 
“Always? Like, every time?” 
“Well, I guess probably not 100% of the time, but... I don’t know, 95?” 
This was not the answer you had been hoping for.  
“Why are you a-” He cut himself off with a gasp and looked at you, shock and glee in equal measure on his face. “Does Disappointing Dick not go down on you?” 
You blushed furiously, your face hot, and stomped your foot, shushing him viciously. 
“No,” you admitted, through gritted teeth. “No, he doesn’t. Not ever.” 
“Not ever?” 
“Not ever.” 
“Like, not even a little?” 
“I said not ever! What do you not understand about those words?” 
“Why?” 
“You mean why doesn’t he?” You shrugged, trying to appear more unbothered than you were. “He says he doesn’t like it.” 
“Doesn’t like it? Is he gay?” 
You rolled your eyes and turned away with a groan, intending to drop it, but he grabbed your arm and turned you back. 
“I’m being serious. If he’s not going down on you, he can’t be that into pussy. Is it just you or was he the same with previous partners?” 
“He says it’s everyone, not just me. He says he just doesn’t like it.” 
“Has he tried? With you, I mean?” 
You grimaced at the memory. 
“Once.” 
“And how was it?” 
“Awful. I couldn’t relax because all I could think about was how much he didn’t want to do it and he was so awkward and tentative and then he got annoyed because I wasn’t enjoying-” 
“He got annoyed?” 
“Yeah.” 
Taehyung’s brows came over his eyes and his lips pouted forward. He looked at you, thinking carefully. 
“Do you go down on him?” 
“Well, yeah, but I like doing it so it’s not an issue.” 
“But him not going down on you is an issue?” 
“Yes. I know I shouldn’t make it a big deal and maybe it’s not and I’m just being selfis-” 
He held up a hand to cut you off before you could even finish the word. 
“You’ve done things you aren’t that keen on in bed, right?” 
“Uh, wh- what do you mean? No one’s ever forced me to do-” 
“No, I don’t mean that. I just mean... There are some positions you like more than others, yeah? Or maybe he likes to fuck in the shower but you prefer not to or he likes morning sex and you don’t really, but you sometimes do it anyway, even though it’s not your favourite thing?” 
“Yeah, I guess.” 
“So why do you do them?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Well if they’re not really top of your list, why do you do them at all? Why not just say no and only do it how you want?” 
“Because it’s not just about me. It’s about them, too, and I want them to have a good time. And, ok, maybe we do it that way this time, and next time, we’ll do it my way.” 
“Exactly.” 
“I don’t see your point.” 
“My point is that, even if eating your pussy isn’t his favourite thing to do, he should still do it because it’s something that you like and that makes you feel good and he should care about that.” 
“You care, do you? About all the people you have sex with?” 
“Yes, I do.” His eyes were sharp, his lips almost sneering. He seemed annoyed but you couldn’t work out why. “Why are you asking me about this anyway? Want me to give you what you’re missing?” 
You punched him in the arm, a little harder than you’d intended, and he scowled, giving the area a rub. 
“No. Why would you ask me that? Of course, I fucking don’t. I have a boyfriend.” 
“Yeah. And maybe you shouldn’t.” 
“What is that supposed to mean?” 
He lifts an eyebrow at you, disbelief and impatience clear on his face. 
“You know what I mean. And you know I’m always here for you.” 
For one second, you really thought he was being nice and thoughtful; you thought he might be treating you like a friend. And then reality came back to you and you realised precisely what he meant. You punched him in the arm again.  
“Fuck off, Taehyung. I’m not fucking you.” 
“That’s not what I offered. Come on, sweetheart-” 
“Don’t fucking call me that!”  
“Y/n, seriously.”  
He cradled your cheek with his hand and looked closely at you. His brown eyes were so warm, inviting, so wide and open and sweet that you couldn’t believe what came out of his mouth next.  
“What’s a little oral between friends? Let me show you your pretty little pussy’s worth wanting.” 
“Ugh!” 
You ripped your face away from his hand and stalked off, even as he called after you. The juxtaposition of that cute, teddy-bear face and his fucking depravity would give you whiplash. You told yourself that’s what it was; that he was confusing and you didn’t know how to take him, didn’t know if you could trust him. That’s why you could feel a cold stone of anxiety sinking in your stomach; you were discombobulated, that’s all. You were drunk. He had knocked you off kilter.  
You were fine. 
The next day, Taehyung messaged you. 
Taehyung: I’m sorry for overstepping, ok?  
You didn’t have time to read the rest before he was video-calling you. 
“Hi.” 
“Hi.” 
“You haven’t even given me three seconds to read your messages yet.” 
“I know, but it said you read them so I knew you were looking at your phone and I wanted to speak to you.” 
“I don’t know if that’s smart or creepy.” 
You could tell he shrugged by the jolt of the camera. 
“What do you want, then? You’ve already apologised.” 
“I don’t want to apologise. Not really... Well, I do if I made you uncomfortable. I am sorry if I did but I’m not going to apologise for anything else. Not even this... 
“No partner should ever make you feel weird or self-conscious or bad or insecure or anything like that. If you are putting your trust in someone, if you’re literally putting your body in their hands, they had better make damn fucking sure that they’re treating it right, that they’re taking care of you, that you feel good, that you feel better being with them than you do on your own. That’s all non-negotiable. It doesn’t sound like Dickless is doing that.” 
“What happened to Disappointing Dick?” 
“I demoted him. He doesn’t deserve a dick.” 
You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 
“I’m fucking serious. You deserve better.” 
You hung up on him. You didn’t want to hear it because you didn’t want to admit that it did make you feel bad; that you were self-conscious now; that something bad was definitely happening inside your brain and you didn’t, somehow, feel like you had the right to blame your boyfriend. 
Taehyung, persistent as ever, sent a text. 
Taehyung: I’m sorry if you’re upset but I’m also not sorry. You deserve better. You deserve to be feel like your body is perfect because it is. Your body is a site of worship and if he’s not praying to you, sacrificing to you, he’s blaspheming. You deserve to be fucked by someone who will recognise what you are, will recognise how lucky they are to be with you, will make sure they let you know just how desirable and sexy and fucking perfect you are. That's all. 
Y/n: You mean someone like you? 
Taehyung: 🙄🙄🙄 
Taehyung: NO. I’m not trying to fuck you; you’ve made your feelings on that abundantly clear. This is not about me at all. How many times do I have to say I’m serious about this? Your boyfriend is a sack of shit.  
You did not reply. 
* * *  
It was a Monday morning, hardly the highlight of anyone’s week, when you next ran into Taehyung. As you entered the café, you could see him, waiting for his coffee at the other end of the bar. You ignored him and placed your order, hoping he would be gone before you had finished.  
No such luck. Worse still, he immediately started talking to you. 
“I just have one question; will you let me ask one question?” 
“What?” 
“Are you prepared to go the rest of your life with no one going down on you?” 
“What?” 
You could feel your face heat and you glanced nervously around, hoping no one else had heard him. You were furious with him for bringing it up here, in public, first thing in the morning, but you were also not prepared for that question and a cold feeling of dread slipped through your veins like ice. 
“You’re in a relationship with this guy; at some point, eventually, you’ll get married, right? And that’s it, then; you’re staring down the barrel of what, 70 years without it? You’ve already had your last time. Do you remember it? Was it even good?” 
You knew it wasn’t because the last time anyone did it was the first – and only – time your boyfriend had and that had been an unmitigated disaster.  
“We’re not that serious, Taehyung. We’re not getting married.” 
“Maybe not now, but if you don’t break up, that’s where you’re headed, isn’t it? Is it really something you’re willing to give up forever? For him?”  
Your coffee had arrived and you had hoped you could take it and run, but Taehyung picked up your cup with his spare hand and wandered towards a spare table.  
“I don’t even know why you care so much,” you hissed as you sat opposite him at the table. 
“I don’t know why you don’t. You asked me for a reason and you are apparently completely unwilling to listen to anything. Is what I’m saying so radical? What do your other friends say?” 
You couldn’t answer that question because you hadn’t told anyone else. It was too embarrassing.  
“Have you even told anyone else?” 
“No.” 
“Then why me? Because I’m just some disgusting, shallow fuckboy whose opinion you don’t care about except when it might benefit you? Because you expected me to say that I don’t go down on the women I sleep with? Expected me to make some crude joke or cruel comment about them? Because you think that, just because I sleep with a lot of people, I must not respect them enough to treat them right? All of the above?” 
The silence between the two of you was thick, untouched by the noise and bustle of the café around you. You couldn’t deny that basically everything he had said was true, but hearing him say it made you feel thoroughly shamed. 
“I’m not offended,” he continued. “Because I know that none of that is true, as does everyone who actually knows me. You haven’t bothered to get to know me-” 
“Yeah because all you do is try to get in my pants!” 
“How is that true? Did I not just tell you that I’m not trying to fuck you? That this isn’t about me? Contrary to your beliefs, you are actually not some kind of irresistible siren whom I will make it my life mission to bed. I can live without fucking you, thank you very much. And you think I’m arrogant.” 
“I don’t think I’m irresistible,” you protested weakly.  
“I’m not interested in arguing with you. I’m a lover, not a fighter.” He paused to give you a dramatic, over the top, sexy wink and you couldn’t stop yourself rolling your eyes. “But, for the millionth time, I am serious about this. And you need to get serious about it. Here, enjoy your coffee, sweetheart.” 
He slid your cup towards you, stood, and left before you could tell him off for calling you that again. You were rattled and frustrated and couldn’t stop thinking about the rest of your life.  
You couldn’t stop thinking about it that day or that week or even into the next week. You saw your boyfriend three times and had sex that you couldn’t enjoy because you couldn’t stop thinking about it.  
It was the last time, with him pounding away inside you, that he finally noticed. 
“Hey, y/n.”  
He slowed, but didn’t stop.  
“Where have you gone? I feel like you’re not there.” 
You dragged your eyes back into focus, onto him. 
“Do you think you’ll ever like it?” 
He frowned, confused, and came to a stop, resting his weight on you a little. 
“Like what? What are you talking about?” 
“Oral.”  
He groaned and you knew, even though you couldn’t see his face as he rested his forehead on your clavicle, that he was rolling his eyes. 
“Do we have to talk about this again? I feel like this is all we ever talk about and I don’t know what you want me to say.” 
“I want you to give me a reason! Tell me why you won’t do it!” 
He rolled away, slipping out of you, and sat up and you pushed yourself upright next to him. He had never really given you an answer, other than that he ‘just doesn’t like it’ and you thought this little pause might be him finally deciding to tell you. 
“Tell me why it matters so much!” he countered and your hope deflated. “I get you off, don’t I? It’s not like I’m selfish. Why do you need me to do it so badly?” 
“Because I like it! Because I do things for you! Because... Because it makes me feel bad that you don’t.” 
“Oh I make you feel bad? All this time I spend trying to make you feel good-” 
“I don’t! I don’t feel good! I don’t feel good because you make me feel like there must be something wrong with me! No one else has ever had a problem with it-” 
“Now who’s making who feel bad? If everyone else you’ve fucked likes it so much, why don’t you just go and ask them to do it?” 
“What?” 
“Well, if they all love doing it so much and you need it so fucking desperately, why not ask them?” 
“Are you serious right now?” 
His jaw dropped as if you’d just hit him. 
“Of course I’m not fucking serious! Are you joking? You’re my fucking girlfriend! As if I would let you do that! I don’t understand why you can’t just be happy with what we have.” 
He was standing and putting his feet back into his boxers and trousers. You didn’t want him to leave. Because you wanted him to stay and change his mind. You wanted him to suddenly turn around and say, actually, I was wrong, please allow me to go down on you for hours and hours... You knew he wouldn’t. 
He sat down on the edge of the bed and took your hand. 
“Do you love me?” 
At that moment, no, you truly didn’t. It took all your strength to look him in the eye and answer. 
“Yes, of course.” 
He kissed you and told you the same and then he told you to get some rest and sleep on it and that things would look better in the morning.  
You had had this argument enough times to know that it wouldn’t. Things would look the same in the morning. In actual fact, they looked worse.  
You still couldn’t get Taehyung’s words out of your mind, any of them. The idea of anyone worshipping you was faintly absurd, a rhetorical flourish you’re sure he didn’t mean literally, but he seemed so sincere and, well, they didn’t say he had a magical dick for nothing.  
You called Tara.  
“Ok, I need you to be really real with me and also to not ever tell anyone I asked you this.” 
“Oh my god, the intrigue... Go on.” 
“Just exactly how good is Taehyung in bed?” 
She cackled loudly down the phone and then sighed, suddenly wistful. 
“Still, by far, the best I have ever had. I still miss him.” 
“Ok, but I don’t know how good the other people you’ve slept with are. I need like, some objective measure-” 
“Why? Are you planning to sleep with him?” 
“No! God no! I just don’t believe that what people say about him can be true, so I’m … I don’t know... checking...” 
Her responding hum sounded unconvinced. 
“Well, he once made me come for like, two straight minutes. I thought I was going to die and I could barely walk the next day; every muscle in my body was sore.” 
“Is that... good?” 
“YES! I meant it when I said you shouldn’t turn him down if he ever offers. I have never had as many orgasms in one night as when I was with him. He just... He fucking loves it and he loves you when he’s fucking you. He kind of takes it almost weirdly seriously? But like, in a good way. I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. I may have been drunk at the bar that time, but I honestly could still cry about how much I miss fucking him.”  
“Jesus.” 
“Not even he can help me, y/n.”  
“Ok, well, thanks. I guess.” 
“Did that help? I seriously think you should fuck him; I promise I won’t even be jealous because it is truly something I think everyone should get to experience at least once.”  
“I am not sure that’s a normal thing to say about someone.” 
“Taehyung is not normal.”  
* * *  
Two days. It was two days before you snapped. You took a deep breath, pressed call, and held the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?” 
“Do you want to eat me out?” 
You could hear choking at the other end and a muffled ‘hold on’. You held on. 
“Sorry, what the fuck did you just ask me?”  
“I said, do you want to eat me out?” 
“Is this a hypothetical question? Because you know I have already made the offer.”  
“So you do want to eat me out?” 
“Again, is this hypothetical or are you asking me over right now?” 
Another deep breath. 
“I’m asking you over right now.” 
“Give me your address.” 
You paced up and down your living room, anxious, impatient. The sheets on the bed were clean; you’d showered and then done it again for no real reason other than an irrational fear of him thinking you were dirty; you hesitated over whether or not to light candles – it felt like too much, too romantic but would also mean you could turn out the lights, keep it dark... You were just about to find the matches again when there was a knock at the door.  
“Hi.” 
“Hello.” 
His grin was wide as he stepped over the threshold but it did nothing to put you at ease.  
“Do you want a drink or something?” you asked as you made your way to the kitchen. 
“Whatever you want. I am at your service.” 
He bowed, thrusting an arm elaborately to the side, his head dipping low as he bent deeply from the hips.  
“Please don’t be weird. Don’t make this weird.” 
“What’s weird about it? Like I said, what’s a little oral between friends? Platonic pussy eating, that’s all it is.” 
“I said don’t be weird! Why do you have to put it like that?” 
“Well, what is it if not that? I assume you don’t suddenly want to date me.” 
“God, no-” 
He raised his eyebrows at you, questioning, demanding. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry.” 
He shrugged. 
“It’s alright. I know you still think we’re not friends, but, just so you know, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.” 
“Oh, wouldn’t you?” 
“No, I wouldn’t.” 
He was suddenly close to you, a little too close. He looked down at you, and you expected to look up and see that arrogant smirk, the quirked eyebrow that he thought was so sexy, but he’s just smiling, sweet, cute.  
“I’m glad you called, though. Glad you’ve finally seen the light and ditched Dickless-” 
“I haven’t. We’re still together.” 
His eyebrows shot up, his mouth a little ‘o’ of surprise. 
“You haven’t? And yet here I am... I thought you were a good girl.” 
“Shut up, Taehyung. Stop trying to flirt with me.”  
You moved away from him, towards the fridge, and got out a bottle of wine, more for something to do than anything else. You poured two glasses and held one out to him.  
“How do you expect me to go down on you if you won’t even let me flirt with you a little?” 
“You don’t have to flirt with me if I’ve already agreed to it. There’s no need.” 
“That’s what you think flirting is? Just a way to get into somebody’s bed? That is not what flirting is for – well, not the only thing.” 
He considered you carefully over his wine glass and you could feel yourself blushing all over; he kept his gaze steady, his face betraying nothing, and then he held his hand out to you. You didn’t take it but you moved closer to him, just close enough that he could reach out and grab you by the waist, pulling you up against him.  
“Just so we’re clear,” he began, his voice low, his eyes pointedly fixed on yours. “If we do this and you don’t break up with Dickless, I will consider it a failure.” 
You didn’t know what you felt. What would make this a success? What would make it a failure? Did you want it to be good? So good you ended your relationship? Or did you want it to be disappointing, maybe literally anticlimactic, so that you could stay with him and not feel like you were missing out? You had absolutely no idea. You didn’t even really know why you were doing it. Was it a good idea? What had possessed you? All you knew was that it had to be done. Now or never. For once and for all.  
He placed his wine glass on the counter and slipped his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers just lightly grazing your skin. Your stomach twisted and you squirmed out of his grasp. 
“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to stop your heart racing.  
“What are you doing? Did you or did you not invite me over so I could go down on you?” 
“Well, yes, I did, but that doesn’t mean all of... All of that.” 
You heard him chuckle behind you and you turned slightly, just enough that you could see him run his hands through his hair and roll his eyes, the boxy grin back on his face.  
“Y’know, I’m starting to think that maybe you are the problem. At least a little bit.” 
When you didn’t move and didn’t respond, he sighed again, lightly exasperated. 
“Come here,” he commanded softly, holding his hands out to you. When you didn’t move, he walked towards you instead. He took your face in his hands and made you look at him. “Do you trust me?” 
When you didn’t answer, he shook your head lightly side to side.  
“I don’t mean like, trust me with your family secrets, trust me to take care of your pets while you’re on holiday. I mean... Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” 
You shook your head and he moved his face even closer.  
“Do you think I’m going to do something you don’t want?” 
You shook your head and he lightly pressed a kiss to your cheek. 
“Do you think I’m going to make you do something you don’t want?” 
You shook your head and he kissed your other cheek. 
“So, do you trust me?” 
You nodded, dumb with anticipation and tension, shocked at the way your body was responding to this, just this: he hadn’t even kissed you on the mouth but you were trembling, warm, wet.  
“Ok, then,” he whispered and he moved his hands down your body, then back up on the inside of your clothes. His hands were cold and you shivered against him, closing your eyes. 
“Look at me.”  
Your eyes flicked back to him and he kissed your lips, just barely, still looking you in the eye, and a whimper caught in your throat. He closed his eyes and pulled you closer, his lips pressing against yours now. He removed a hand from your waist and gently pressed his thumb against your chin, opening your mouth to allow his tongue inside. His kiss was warm and sweet with wine; his tongue was soft against yours, slow as he licked into your mouth and retreated. You chased after his mouth when his lips left yours and you could feel him smile as he let you close the distance and kiss him again. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip and sucked it gently, a barely perceptible pressure that made your knees tremble. 
You could feel all the heat rushing through your blood, flowering on the surface of your skin in warm blooms as you let yourself relax. All the tension you were holding melted away, evaporating on your skin, leaving you soft and pliant. A deep, dark want blossomed in you, its petals unfurling in your core, arousal first like dew drops, then like a sudden summer downpour buffeting the pale heads of roses. You had thought this would be quick, frantic with need, with guilt, with anxiety, but all of that was held at bay by the gentle way that Taehyung ran his tongue over yours, ran his hands over your body, held you just close enough that you could feel him against you but not so close you felt trapped.  
He moved from your mouth and placed kisses on your temple, your ear, your jaw. As he sucked kisses down your neck, you were so distracted that you didn’t notice him unclasp your bra, only aware when he rubbed his thumbs over your nipples, already hard. He moaned against your skin, his teeth sinking into your flesh as he pulled your hips against his. You gasped, both at the bite, and at the feeling of him, stiffening, growing against you. He ran his tongue over the indentations in your neck and you shivered.  
“Can I take your clothes off?”  
His voice was raspy and low in your ear as he tugged at the bottom of your shirt. You sighed a yes and looked into his eyes as his fingers worked on the buttons of your blouse. His eyes were soft, liquid, the light glinting off them in gold and honey. He took his time, each button slow, his eyes never leaving yours. He nudged your nose with his, licked your bottom lip, sank his teeth into it, sucked it into his mouth.  
He pushed your shirt off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then he pulled the straps of your bra down and it fell, too. He finally dropped his gaze and took in the sight of your naked torso, nipples taut, goosebumps spreading over the swell of your breasts as he gently took them in his hands, massaging, squeezing your nipples between his fingers. He hummed quietly.  
“Shall we go to the bedroom now?” 
You couldn’t speak, only nodded, and walked backwards until your legs hit your bed, then you let him lay you down. 
“Can I take this off?” he asked again, holding the edge of your skirt. Again, you nodded and he pulled gently, the fabric almost burning against your legs as it dragged. He kissed your feet and you squirmed. 
“Ticklish?” He grinned and licked the sole of your left foot from heel to toe with the tip of his tongue as you squealed.  
“Yes, I am!” you gasped. He chuckled and relented, trailing soft, wet kisses up your legs. You held your breath as he licked at your inner thighs, anticipating him at your core.  
But he wasn’t there. He slipped his hands underneath at the hips and lifted the fabric so he could lick the crease of your leg and then pulled it down so he could kiss across the waistband from hip bone to hip bone, but he didn’t touch you. Your heart was racing in your chest now; what was he waiting for?  
He hummed against your skin and moved above you, his hands on either side of your chest. He looked at you, almost quizzical for a second, and then that look faded into a smile that – had it been anyone else – you might’ve called adoring. He lowered his face to yours and kissed you. 
“Relax, y/n. I can feel your heart beating from here.”  
Resting his full weight on one hand, he placed the other between your breasts, atop your sternum, your heart pushing back, thumping against your ribs.  
“But aren’t you gonna...?”  
He kissed you again, forceful this time, leaving you breathless as he pulled away. 
“Yes, I am. But we’re doing it my way, ok? Just relax; I’m going to take good care of you.” 
He shuffled downwards, lips everywhere on his path down your neck, across your chest. You whined when he took your nipple in his mouth, your back arching into him as he sealed his teeth around it, his tongue lapping at your tightened bud. 
Everything was so slow. You felt like a frog in a pan; you hadn’t really noticed it building, this huge, hungry desire, but now you were drowning in it, burning, melting. It enveloped you, held you, suspended, cushioned in its warmth but needled by its intensity. It sent its buds out from your centre to your extremities, your fingers and toes tingling, your body trembling, your breath catching in your throat. Flowers of want blooming all over you, petals falling from Taehyung’s lips, soft and sweet and warm.  
You let out a long, shaky whine when he finally locked his fingers around your underwear and tugged them down, his hands sliding against your legs as he pulled them all the way off.  
“Taehyung,” you whispered as he pushed your legs apart, crawling back towards you.  
“Yes?” 
You didn’t know what to say. You knew there was something, something inside you that you wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t find the words. Everything was obscured by the veil of your greed, your craven yearning for him. You wanted his mouth on you so badly, wanted to be wanted. You remembered what he said about worship and a sudden panic sliced through you with painful clarity. 
“I-… What if it is me? What if there’s something wrong with me?”  
He pressed a soft kiss against your inner thigh and then loomed over you.  
“It’s not you, I promise.”  
He rested his forehead against yours, your noses pressed together, his hand on your cheek. 
“You’re perfect. Perfect, you hear me? If you’ve changed your mind about this, that’s ok-” 
“No, god no,” you answered quickly, immediately, absolutely sure that you wanted this, your nails digging into his arms. “Please...” 
He kissed you, slow, even slower than before, and he lowered his body down on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. It’s only then that you realised he was still fully dressed. And you were completely naked beneath him, so exposed and so vulnerable. You pushed him back, a light palm against his chest, and he looked at you, frowning. 
“What’s wrong?”  
You looked at his eyes, somehow both shining and dark at the same time; his pouty mouth just barely open; his hips pressing into yours; his erection hot and hard against you, almost exactly where it needed to be, so you could just tip your hips and rub yourself on him, feel the friction you were desperate for. He looked at you so openly and it wasn’t like you expected it to be at all. None of it was. You thought he would be arrogant, cocksure, swaggering; you thought he would be rough, wild, frenetic; you thought it was all bluster and machismo, that he’d keep calling you ‘baby’ and asking how you liked it and trying to make you scream. You hadn’t even really believed that he would get you there. Whether due to you or to him, you had thought it probably wouldn’t happen. Your boyfriend had made you too self-conscious; Taehyung wouldn’t put the effort in or wouldn’t know what to do.  
But it wasn’t like that at all. He looked at you questioningly, searchingly, like he actually cared. And he had moved so slowly, so patiently; he was rock-hard against you, but hadn’t even mentioned it. He hadn’t even taken his clothes off. This was the first time he’d even really pressed his hips against you so you could feel him. You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing, tried to feel yourself in your body. You could feel the ghost of his breath over your face, his hand curled around your shoulder, fingers dancing lightly over your skin. There was the weight of his body, the warmth of it. You wanted to feel his skin in yours. 
“Take your clothes off,” you whispered, opening your eyes to look at him.  
He grinned and sat back on his knees, unbuttoning his shirt. You reached out to unzip his trousers but he batted your hand away. He unzipped them himself and stood to step out of them.  
“Better?” he asked, already making his way back to you, but shook your head. 
“No. Everything.”  
His eyebrows raised just a hair and he paused, considering you. 
“You know this is not about me, right?” 
“I know. I just want to see you.”  
He nodded slowly and hooked his thumbs into boxers, sliding them down and stepping out. His dick was wet with pre-cum and you couldn’t believe he could be so hard when you hadn’t even touched him, when he had barely touched you. He knelt at the end of the bed and grabbed your ankles, slowly pulling you down, down, down, until you were just barely still lying on it, your feet touching the floor until he spread your thighs to the side, as wide as they could go.  
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he asked, his words muffled as he kissed your thigh. 
“Yes, fuck. Yes, Taehyung. Please.”  
He was still slow. Slow as he pressed kisses against your lips, on your mound, back out to the crease of your hip, your thighs. You whined when he ran his fingers through your folds, hearing the slick of your arousal as he dragged up to your clit and down again, as he opened you up. He pressed a kiss to your clit and you jumped, swallowing hard, trying to catch your breath as he opened his lips and sucked. He laved over your clit with the soft, flat pad of his tongue and you sighed, having forgotten this feeling. 
“Talk to me,” he said softly, sprinkling kisses across your legs, your mound, your lips. “Tell me what works for you, what doesn’t.”  
But you couldn’t speak. You moaned and mewled and whimpered, but no words would come. You were swept away on a wave of pleasure, not in the room anymore, but somewhere else, somewhere nothing else existed – just you and Taehyung and this bed. You wanted to tell him yes, like that, more, yes, please, please, please, but the air was tight in your lungs, stuck in your throat, whipped away as it left your mouth in a strangled whine. 
He moaned loudly as he licked over your slit, drinking you in.  
“Y/n.” 
His breath was warm, brushing against your flushed skin. 
“You taste so good, y/n. I fucking knew you would.”  
He moved his mouth away again, biting down on the soft flesh of your inner thigh as he slipped first one and then two fingers into your wet heat. You whined, greedy, needy, grinding your hips, trying to feel some friction back on your clit. Taehyung hummed against your skin and you felt his lips stretch into a smile.  
“Don’t hold back, y/n. I love the way you sound.”  
And you didn’t. You let yourself go, let yourself fall into it, abandoned yourself to him. With his fingers still inside you and his mouth back, sealed against your clit, his tongue alternately flicking hard circles around it, then licking softly over it, you felt your body shuddering to its climax. You expected him to stop as your walls clenched hard on his fingers, to stop when your legs clamped over his ears, to stop when you writhed beneath him, fully overwhelmed as wave after wave swamped you with pleasure.  
But he didn’t. He thrummed his fingers hard against your front wall, not letting you squeeze them out. He kept his mouth on you, your slick and his spit mixing as you came, gushing around him. When you finally cried out, cursing him, calling his name, he slowed, but he still didn’t stop, and you felt your whole body convulse under him. With a flash of clarity, you remembered what Tara had said, and you couldn’t believe it, knew you couldn’t take it, knew this would kill you if it went on any longer.  
But it did. And you didn’t die. You felt yourself floating, your limbs weightless, your head dizzy as you climbed to your second peak, your, soft, weak body tightening, pulling in all directions at once, your skin burning, your heart like a hummingbird’s, blood roaring in your ears like the waves of the ocean. Your hands twisted in the bedsheets as you came, the noises you were making nothing short of animal.  
When you flopped, spent, melting into the mattress, you pushed your fingers through Taehyung’s hair and tugged, your body screaming with over-stimulation, your bed and thighs soaked. You could hardly see; nothing but flashing lights in front of you, stars shining and twinkling on your ceiling, swirling, disappearing and reappearing like a kaleidoscope.  
“Taehyung,” you panted, weak and quiet. “Stop.” 
He was immediately still, those wide, open eyes looking up at you. You whimpered as he pulled his fingers from you and you fell, slithering like a slinky from the bed and into his arms. He held you tight, pushed your hair from your face and kissed your forehead. 
“You ok?” 
You looked up at him, blinking hard to stop your vision swimming. He was shiny and sticky all around his mouth, all over his chin. Those deep, autumn eyes all dark now, swirling black, glazed and penetrating. You summoned what strength you could and crashed your lips against him. You could taste yourself on him and you knew he was right. You weren’t the problem. It wasn’t you. And it certainly wasn’t this.  
“Fuck me, please,” you asked, taking his face between your palms. “Please, Taehyung.”  
He started shaking his head, his lip bitten between his teeth. 
“That’s not what- you don’t have to- we don’t have to do that.” 
“I want to. I want to. Please.” 
You twisted in his lap so you were straddling him, his cock leaking against you between your bodies.  
“If you want to,” you added. “I... Only if you want to.” 
He laughed, deep-throated and rich – you could feel it rumble in his chest.  
“Oh I absolutely want to but this is... Are you sure you want to? I mean... You are still with Dickless and this-” 
“Don’t fucking talk about him. I don’t want to think about him. Please, Taehyung.” You pressed another kiss against his lips, insistent, urgent. “I want you. I just want you.”  
He moaned against your mouth, his arms encircling your waist, his tongue encroaching. Then he rolled and lay you down, the carpet surprisingly soft against your skin.  
“I just,” he said, his mouth wandering all over you, slowly making his way down. “I just want one more taste. Please.”  
He looked at you, waiting. He licked his lips and held the bottom one tight in his teeth. You could see him swallow hard, his breathing deep and heavy. You nodded and dropped your head back, keening as he licked through your folds, humming against your clit, smacking his lips as he raised himself back on his hands and knees.  
“I told you you were fucking perfect.”  
You moved backwards, out from underneath his arms and gave yourself carpet burn on your knees as you shuffled to the bedside table, rifling for the box of condoms you kept there. You grabbed the whole thing, crawled back to Taehyung and emptied it onto the floor. He laughed again. 
“Sweetheart, even for me, that is truly ambitious.” 
“Shut up.” 
You fell back, your chest still heaving, your limbs still trembling, as he tore one open and rolled it down his length. He paused, his dick in his hand, held at your waiting entrance and he looked at you. 
“For god’s sake, Taehyung, don’t ask me if I’m sure. Please just please just fuckin- ahh...” 
He didn’t wait for you to finish. He plunged into your soft, wet cunt and moaned. 
“Fuck. Please tell me that feels good.” 
“It feels fucking incredible.”  
He grabbed at the backs of your thighs and lifted, pushing them up and out, keeping hold of them as he began to move. Smooth and fluid, his hips rolled. Your cunt, wet and soft and sweet, held him tight, moulded to his cock, your walls fluttering around him. Heat radiated from your centre, a fire burning there, flames licking up your body. You were so sensitive, close again almost immediately, whimpering with every thrust.  
You grabbed at him, pulling him down, your hand around his neck to bring him closer and closer ’til you could kiss him. Your tongues tangled and the adjusted angle made you moan straight into his mouth. You could still taste the wine, still taste yourself on him and with a shock of remembrance, you whined. This was what you loved; this was what you had been missing. The proof of the pudding: your arousal all over his face made you hot with a sudden rush. Your boyfriend could never be enough. Because it wasn’t just about you and your desire; it was about his, too. And he didn’t have it, not like this. Not like Taehyung. The strangled moans and gutteral groans escaping his throat, the rumble in his chest as he breathed ragged and uneven made you shaky with feeling. Feeling wanted in your entirety. Wanted in your animal mess. Wanted from head to toe. Inside and out. No holds barred. 
“Taehyung.” 
“Fuck, y/n, yeah? Tell me- tell me...”  
He kissed your lips and your cheek, his hand skirting your body and grabbing at your thigh, pushing further, holding tighter, his thrusts faster now, harder, his pelvis tantalisingly close to your clit. You put a hand down between you, circling slowly, your third orgasm bubbling through your veins.  
“You feel so good,” you breathed. “Fuck, so, so-… ah... shit.”  
Already there, your toes curling, Taehyung hissing, cursing as you squeezed him tight inside you, pleasure blazed through you like a forest fire, every inch of you alight and burning, sparking, fireworks bursting all over you, inside you, filling your vision with dizzying colour. Taehyung was gasping, stuttering, his fingers digging into you, his teeth biting hard. 
“Come, Taehyung,” you whispered to him, your voice wobbling, shaking like the rest of you.  
“I w-wanna-” he stammered. “I wa- wan-” 
“No, just come. For me.” 
You brought your mouth to his, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth, sucking gently. 
“Oh, fuck.”  
He juddered, thrusting hard as he let himself go, gave himself to you, gave in. He let himself flop against you for a moment, just a moment, and then he pushed himself up on his hands, looking down at where you bodies met, still together. He rolled his hips one last time and you mewled, over-sensitive, overwraught. He grinned and pulled back, turning away from you as he took off and disposed of the condom.  
He crawled back to you and pulled you onto your side so you were facing each other. He knocked a leg between yours and traced the curve of your body; you shivered, even his hands feeling like fire against you. He kissed you, once, and then again, and then a third time.  
“You’re perfect,” he said, barely moving his mouth far enough from yours to speak, his words mumbled, muffled. “You’re fucking perfect. You understand?”  
You couldn’t look him in the eye, suddenly self-conscious, suddenly so embarrassed at what you had done. Embarrassed that you had needed this, needed him to tell you that, needed him to show you that you could be wanted how you wanted to be wanted, desired in the way you wanted, fucked like you wanted. You felt small and silly and stupid. That you had cheated on your boyfriend with the most promiscuous man on the planet just because you felt insecure. You shivered, but it wasn’t pleasure this time. You were suddenly cold and tired. Exhausted. Choked with emotions you didn’t want to admit.  
“Hey, I’m talking to you,” he said, softly, his lips against your hair now. “You ok?”  
“I don’t know.” 
Your voice was little more than a hoarse whisper, hardly audible beneath the thumping of your heart. 
“Talk to me...” 
“I feel so stupid.” 
“Why?”  
You had to think it through, carefully, how to say it, how to express it. 
“Because... I needed this. I didn’t know that I-… I-” 
You crumbled, dissolved into tears, embarrassing you further. You wanted to be swallowed whole, to sink into the ground, to dessicate and turn to dust. You couldn’t speak, shame dousing you, drowning you, your hitching, heaving breath barely enough. He let you cry and you were grateful for his patience... again. 
“You w-want me,” you said eventually, your voice thick, choked.  
“Yeah.” 
“You want me and h-he doesn’t. And I- I want to be w-wanted. I'm so... Am I undesirable?” 
“Categorically, demonstrably, absolutely not.” 
“Then why doesn’t he want me?” 
Taehyung held you tighter, pulled you closer, kissed the top of your head and stroked your back.  
“This is why I’ve been telling you to leave him, love. You shouldn’t feel like this. I’m sure he does want you, but if he can’t want you in the way that you want, in a way that makes you feel good, feel desirable, and cherished, and loved, then he shouldn’t have you.”  
He pulled back, holding your face to his, wiping your tears with his thumbs.  
“I want you. Believe me, I want you. I’ve just had you and I want you all over again. You should believe that; you deserve that. Don’t let him break you down. Don’t let him do this to you.”  
Your bottom lip wobbled as your eyes filled with tears again and he placed his thumb over it and his lips over that. He swiped his thumb across your mouth and kissed you as slowly as he had the very first time, his lips so soft, his mouth so sweet.  
“If you don’t believe me,” he said, his lips just ghosting over yours, his breath washing over your face. “I will happily show you again and again and again just how desirable you are. Just how perfect you are. It’s not hyperbole; you’re fucking perfect to me. I’ll show you.”  
And he did. 
Not just that night or the one after that or the one after that. He showed you repeatedly again and again until you started to believe it. Until you realised that you didn’t need him to show you anymore, just wanted him to. Just wanted him.  
You broke up with your boyfriend two weeks later. It was horrible and he was surprisingly vicious and you were surprisingly upset. But you knew you were right to do it and wished you had just done it earlier.  
y/n: I broke up with him. 
Taehyung: FINALLY 
Taehyung: Guess this means you don’t need me anymore... 
y/n: I didn’t say that. 
y/n: Come over? 
Taehyung: On my way 
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canmom · 4 months
Text
Comics mini-Comints: Dungeon Meshi
reread dungeon meshi through to the end. still such a great manga. here are immediate thoughts - if I end up having time and energy I hope I can write something that goes deeper!
ironically i was only a few chapters from the end when I stopped keeping up, but I was struggling to remember all the characters and context, so reading it through in one go was definitely an ideal way to achieve maximum impact there.
ryoko kui does a very elegant job of handling a transition from 'silly antics' to 'big dramatic fantasy' while still keeping the central thematic throughline - eating and being eaten, belonging to an ecosystem, the significance of sacrificing others to achieve your own desires. a lot of setups pay off in a way that feels meticulously planned - and of course the crux of the final showdown revolves around characters attempting to eat each other, of course the big payoff is a huge feast that symbolically unites all the conflicting factions. it is maybe a bit too neat and happy for my taste, but it's undeniably tightly executed - it never loses sight of what it's about. especially compared to something like Frieren, it's an incredibly coherent serialisation, up there with e.g. Fullmetal Alchemist.
kui's art style deserves all kinds of praise - it feels effortlessly simple, but it clearly communicates all sorts of different shapes and body types and it's really fun to see her play around with remixing the different visual elements when she switches the races around. in general Laius's autistic monster loving ways clearly reflect kui's own deeply felt appreciation for all the ways people and animals live (accentuated further by all the extra sketches the scanlators tuck in). in a way you could kinda call it like Parts Unknown the fantasy manga.
the stakes of the final conflict are interesting - there is much to be said about the framing of 'desire' and its fulfilment, of this occult idea of 'the infinite'. lots you could put in relation to other manga, and also buddhism. (in particular I really want to develop a comparison to Made In Abyss, there are so many parallels, it just might be too spicy for tumblr lmao).
one thing I really like about it is how much its fantasy dungeon-exploring setting owes to D&D and other TTRPGs, rather than videogames. monster ecology has been a fascination of that game since the early days of Dragon magazine, and Kui sharply zeroes in on some of the intrinsic conflicts baked in to that fantasy milieu, notably the lifespan thing, while smartly avoiding the traps of 'evil races'. there's some really fun nods to the weirder monster manual entries. and in a story with so many characters and factions, it does a genuinely incredible job of furnishing everyone with understandable, reasonable motivations, conflicts drawn from their context just like the monsters are explained by their ecology.
and one thing that I particularly appreciate is like... how much it is able to simultaneously understand and sympathise with a character and also show us how and why they'd rub others the wrong way. it's impossible not to like our main group, they're all such charming dorks and the manga leads you along with all the crazy rpg party shit they do, but at the same time you definitely find yourself thinking 'guy's got a point' in the kabru chapters lmao. I'm projecting hard bc i don't really know a thing about ryōko kui but laius def feels like the sort of depiction of having an autism that you can only do if you've lived it.
but yeah, it's a fuzzy ending where it all turns out well. but what's the deeper thrust of it all? there's a funny moment where marcille is like 'maybe in the end our journey is about learning to accept death' and the grouchy old gnome guy completely laughs this off as naive, because death doesn't mean anything. and indeed their big plan pays off, and falin does indeed come back just fine. but still, through all of this it asks you to bite the bullet that being a living creature means eating to survive, at the cost of other creatures, with the other side being that one day you too will be eaten. in contrast to this honest way of being is the beguiling fantasy of infinity, where all your desires are immediately fulfilled - this is shown as a dangerous path of corruption that produces madness and manipulability. having limits and rubbing up against the wishes of others, or 'doing things you don't want to do' as izutsumi's arc puts it, becomes necessary for having some kind of definition as a subject. the thing that makes the demon concrete as an entity is a desire, or appetite, that can't immediately be fulfilled.
of course we can connect this to the idea of narrative conflict. a standard advice for putting together a plot is to ask what each character wants and why they can't get it. wanting something implies movement. and indeed over the course of this story, we see that while having too many desires fulfilled too readily leads to incoherence and callousness, equally a character who is left catatonic as their desires have been eaten by the demon must be reawakened to activity by finding a new desire.
it's kinda Buddhist innit. neither the opulence of the palace nor asceticism. desires are what tie you to the world. but mixed with ecology: what a creature does to find the energy to live is what defines its lifestyle, its form.
this is probably where I'd start talking about entropy gradients and shit if i wasn't typing this on a phone at 1:30am lmao.
but yeah - it's a powerful move to go from 'D&D monster recipe show sendup' to 'living with the inherently violent nature of being an organism fated to live in a finite sum game' and yet Dungeon Meshi makes it feel natural and convincing, while remaining tremendously charming and funny throughout. ryōko kui is definitely some kind of genius, and I can't wait to see what her next act is gonna be. it's all definitely making me appreciate the act of eating a lot more.
next story on my plate is probably The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere, which sounds like it will present a very gnarly thematic contrast.
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koolades-world · 5 months
Note
Helloooo it's me again back with another obey me request :)
Could I get the Demon bros with a depressed MC? I'm having a rough time rn and I just need some comfort but ofc feel free to ignore if u don't do requests like these!!
Have a nice day/night!! ♡☆♡☆♡
hi! of course! sorry I'm so late on this!!! also love your pfp (huge pjsekai fan)
Part of the reason I took so long is because I just didn’t know where to start
I love the demon bro I wanna squeeze them like a squishmellow and they’ve gotten me thorough some tough stuff
it's hard for me to articulate anything relating to depression just because I struggle to open up about it especially after my diagnosis. I don’t think anyone except my mom knows only because she was in the room at the time, and all you guys now of course haha
sorry if that was worded so weird and if anything below is worded weird but it’s just hard for me to find words to put together how I’m feeling but writing is my therapy so thank you for this request :)
Brothers with a depressed Mc
Lucifer
would def notice something was up right away from the first meeting, not because of how you acted, but just because it's Luci
once he officially found out, he made all arrangements needed right away
you need a few days off school? you got it, he's already talking to diavolo
you need a break from chores? you got it, he distributed the work among the rest of the family
there's only one thing you feel like eating? you got it, it's what everyone is eating for dinner
supportive in a quiet way, and does all sorts of little things to lighten the load
Mammon
as your first and best man, he acts as your knight and is willing to do anything to help you out
he tries his best to correct his own bad habits so you can work together on yourself
like, for example, if you struggle to get out of bed in the morning, he will get up and moving earlier so you can be up at the same time
nobody is perfect! he tells you this all the time because he knows how dark everything might seem sometimes
he partially understands how you feel since being the family punching bag for hundreds of years takes a toll on someone
he’s with you in every step of your journey, ups and downs, no matter what
Levi
he often has his own self deprecating thoughts, so he knows what you’re dealing with
everyone copes in their own ways but he hopes by sharing all the things he loves, he can bring some happiness
he shared everything with you, both his physical possessions and his thoughts
if you prefer to just sit together, he can do that, but if you want to talk about it, he will do his best to also share how he’s feeling
he wants you to be able to use him as a support system and as someone to fall back on
he always tries to bring a smile to your face and to be someone you trust, despite his own flaws
Satan
he shows you the little joys in life, the ones you might struggle or forget to see like sunsets and how the clouds change color with the sky, or how soft flower petals can be, or how a smile can change someone’s entire day
often he invites you out to places, for no reason at all so you can enjoy everything, especially the sun
he takes you on trips to the human world to visit your favorite places and occasionally see your favorite people if he’s allowed
he helps you with school work and takes the load when ever he can
if you asked him, he would do anything for you <3
Asmo
he always helps you out with your personal hygiene since often, that's what goes first
it's much easier to keep a routine if someone is doing it with you, and Asmo would never forget, so he help keep you on track
but, he's also not pushy about it. if you'll let him, he'll do some of the tasks for you, no strings attached
he's with you at your worst and best. he's not going anywhere
he's determined to be your personal cheerleader and will celebrate all the small things with you
Beel
at first, he's a little shocked at the changes in eating patterns, but supports you when ever and where ever you need it
if he knows there's only one food you will eat, he will physically restrain himself from eating it because he knows how much it means to you
exercise helps but he knows it's probably the last thing you want to do, so he helps you though little bits at a time and takes you out to get a reward afterwards
spending time with you makes him happy, so he figures it must be the same the other way around so he makes an effort to just be with you, even if its just sitting together while you do different things
often finds himself seeking you out just to ask how you are by instinct, proving what a sweetheart he is
Belphie
an interrupted or strange sleep cycle is something he would for sure notice
he becomes the biggest cuddle bug and will often give you sleepy kisses
when you're resting, he'll give you sweet dreams that will leave you feeling warm and fuzzy afterwards
he makes an effort to make the bed just how you like it, and before long makes it a habit to join you in your room for naps and bedtime
he doesn't mind if you wake up at weird time and will wait with you as long as you need to get up
thank you again for such the long wait! hope you enjoyed and hope you're feeling better now <333
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bonefall · 4 months
Note
ITS SNAKE O' CLOCK!!! yay yippee wahoo! have you decided what you're doing with him or are you just thinking abt him :O?
Rotating him in my mind for my own sanity because I got to the part in Path of Stars where they've just. Completely retconned everything about him for the sake of forcefully making everyone of value forgive Clear Sky. The only person who stays mad at Clear Sky forever actually just liked One Eye better
Even though we saw him, on screen, looking at the camera and being like, "I Do Not Like Clear Sky Because His Bad Judgement Caused Us To Be Permanently Branded By A Tyrant Like We Were A Herd Of Texas Steers."
They did him SO dirty, man!! SO SO dirty!!!!!
On that note though, I HAVE decided on a few things!
So, on the note of defectors, Snake is going to be one of the very last ones. While I absolutely adore him, I think it's very important and meaningful that he is one of his most loyal cats.
Snake is a Mountain cat, and it's looking like he is going to be part of the Claw Family.
The Claw Family consists of Fox Claw and Petal Claw to begin with. I have an inkling of an idea that Petal Claw actually leaves while pregnant-- possibly escaping someone unsavory back at home.
I feel like she doesn't really enjoy romance. She's ambitious and ferocious, and whoever her lover was, was quite controlling.
Unfortunately it's a big reason why she's so committed to Clear Sky. She has that sort of unaddressed mindset that abuse often leaves you with.
"No, I know what an awful person is because of what I went through, and I'm telling you, Clear Sky is not that. YOU'Re actually the problem."
And, in turn, Clear Sky rewards her a lot. She is one of his favorite cats, she gets a TON of benefits for her loyalty. Tyrannical, terrible two of them.
Besties (threat)
Snake Claw and Red Claw would have been the first births in the forest, but Bright Storm gave birth early because of the stress and thus Thunder Storm came first.
So Snake and Red were brought up by Petal Claw and Fox Claw, in early Sky's Clan.
Fox and Petal were ADAMANTLY loyal to Clear Sky. They remained behind in the Shadow/Sky split, hissing and spitting at those who chose to follow Tall Shadow.
I feel like Fox was actually their primary parent. They call him Uncle, but he acted a lot more like a dad. It gave Petal more time to go do bad bitch things.
When Clear Sky murders Misty, much much later, Petal is given the kittens as a reward for her loyalty. Having more kits is a point of status, and she's very happy to accept the reward.
So, the Claw family becomes "huge" in a short period of time on this evil action. Petal Claw, Fox Claw, Snake Claw, Red Claw, Alder Claw, Birch Claw.
For Snake, he's raised accepting all this as good and normal. At some point, Fox Claw is killed in some kind of frighteningly violent, unnecessary, bloodthirsty skirmish that Clear Sky aggrieves, and Snake Claw doubles down right along with Petal.
He also does a lot of the WORST things on behalf of Clear Sky. He IS going to have a body count-- though he will no longer be killing BB!Frost (now Sunlit Frost), he does bite him on the good paw during The First Battle.
This bite goes septic, after Sunlit REFUSES to sit out gravedigging, helping to bury his friends and family with an open wound. He already has nerve damage in the other arm from his severe burn.
This choice, because he wouldn't take a break when he was told to, ends up MASSIVELY disabling him. Once a master builder and inventor, he loses his dominant paw and has chronic pain in the other one. He can't build anymore after this.
After Snake Claw defects, I actually really want them to struggle with this. Snake doesn't feel like it's fair to blame him for what Sunlit did to himself, but he's also NEW to Thunder's Clan later, and there's not a lot of people on his side.
And Sunlit is a person who holds grudges... but it's also true that it's kinda not fair, since Snake Claw is trying to apologize for it.
Somehow it's unsatisfying and frustrating, knowing that Snake Claw is only apologizing because everyone wants him to. But how can you expect him to be sincere about something the BOTH of you feel is not entirely his fault?
It's like Sunlit wanted to have him to blame, but that's hard when he's not Clear Sky's Minion anymore.
In the past, I'd gone back and forth on if Red Claw or Snake Claw defected, and now I'm realizing.... por que no los dos? Por que no los TRES?
Since I've committed to adding a third group and expanding on the Forest cats, this is going to mean that Snake's younger "adopted" siblings NEED to have full arcs with this.
While one of them will remain with Clear Sky, becoming a cultural "justification" for the practice of Kitten Stealing, which will plague Clan culture for generations, I think something is fascinating in the idea that they're the ONLY Claw to remain with SkyClan.
Petal Claw and Fox Claw die in battle, "honored" for their sacrifice.
Red Claw defects for ThunderClan first, after falling for the charms of Acorn Swoop
Alder Claw likely follows later... reconnecting with Misty's mate, Milkweed, who has been fighting for MOONS for this very moment
And, lastly, Snake will follow.
(It is also bitterly funny to me that it means Milkweed loses Misty, but then ends up gaining all of Petal's biokids. Never speak to me or my daughter or my son or my son or my daughter or my daughter or my daughter-in-law ever again)
Because Snake Claw will be the very last of the Claw family to defect, I'm thinking it's after the end of BB!DOTC, and over in Thunderstar's Justice.
KEEP the fact that Snake Claw leaves because of Skystar bringing One Eye into the Clan. Even keep the fact that most of SkyClan is loyal to their tyrant-- Snake Claw has woken up to the truth, and realizes he has family elsewhere who loves and misses him.
Well.... hopefully they still do. After everything.
Snake Claw should have a ton of fights with Red Claw and Alder Claw, I think, before the First Battle. Have them all be covered in scars
Because the whole family defects, it's easy for it to become a sensational story about Nepotism/Scabforming. Other Clans probably don't hold Snake, Red, and Alder in high esteem in their myths-- but until Darkstar's Commandment which bans Kitten Stealing, Birch Claw was easily the most venerated.
Aaaand that's it so far! I know for a fact now that Snake Claw is going to be a member of the Claw family, and that he is going to be a MAJOR antagonist through BB!DOTC. In Thunderstar's Justice, he's going to join his living family after finally being able to realize that Skystar is not worth following.
I want to keep that he is a villain for most of the story, because that's what I like best about the way he turns on Clear Sky from canon. He was everything Skystar ever wanted, he did every awful command, the blood is already dried under his claws forever and he was rewarded only with a permanent scarring.
Then, told it's "MY way or the HIGH way," he chooses the high way.
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padfootdaredmetoo · 9 months
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I come with requests (pls). You can decide if it has smut or not but-
SHERLOCK (ENOLA HOLMES VERSION) IS TALKING TO IRENE AND Y/N IS JEALOUS CUZ HE SEEMS TO FLIRT WITH HER N STUFF.
Again, you can decide if there's smut or anything but I NEED this fic.
It would be greatly appreciated as I need another reason to listen to Reputation.
Hey Anon,
Again I'm incredibly sorry you had to wait so long. Hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: Smutt, dom / sub vibes, arguing
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The whole situation was wrong. You stood in the doorway of Sherlock’s apartment, the apartment you recently had to move into. The woman seemed to enjoy your startled expression, her eyes were dark and there was a smirk ghosting on her red lips. 
“This is-” Sherlock started his eyes fixed on the woman, to your relief he had kept his distance. He was leaning against the fireplace mantel. 
“Oh, I know who she is.” Her eyes narrowed, and her body was sprawled across the couch. “I’m Irene, an old friend of Sherlock’s,” She said moving her gaze back to him. 
You wanted to throttle her, wishing that women’s issues could be settled like men. Instead, you smiled brightly. 
“If I knew we were having guests I would have put something together. I’ll put the kettle on.” You moved into the kitchen. 
“No need darling. I'm not here for tea.” She uncrossed her legs and sat upright. “I came here for business.” 
Then it started. You stayed on the edge of the room as the two started to banter. Crime scenes, clues, motives, both trying to get the upper hand. You struggled to keep up as they argued, one thing was glaringly obvious. The tension in the room was palpable. You felt the electricity and it made you sick to your stomach. 
They were an inch away from each other, Sherlock looking unimpressed and cold, while she looked like she was savoring every moment of the interaction. 
“Maybe you should look a little closer, somewhere in the woods maybe?” 
“Moriarty-” 
“Sends his regards.” She whispered her eyes focused on his lips. Part of you felt like you should intervene, and the other part of you felt like slinking away. This was so embarrassing, he seemed to forget about your existence altogether. Part of you knew it was because he wanted the missing information from the case he was working on, but the rest of you couldn't feel that logic. 
You were swallowed up by his lack of concern for you. He looked and acted as if he was single, he was doing exactly what she wanted him to do. 
She turned on her heel and left, slamming the door behind her causing you to jump. Your stomach and chest were tight, but you would rather be shot than let him see that he had hurt you. 
You moved to the bedroom and shut the door, locking it even though you knew he would probably be sitting there sorting through her riddles. 
You grabbed a bag stuffing it with clothes, anger seeping out of you. It was going to be a huge mess if you went to your sister's place like this but you didn’t care. Any place was better than here. 
You opened the bedroom door and to no surprise, he was sitting there staring out the window. Muttering under his breath. He never liked being interrupted when he was like this. So you walked across the living space towards the front door. 
“Where are you going?” He asked exhaling smoke from his pipe. 
“Doesn't matter.” You shrugged. 
“Of course, it matters.” He stood up fully attentive now. 
“No -” 
“She just gave us the missing clue, Morarity is--” 
“Is a fucking ponce. I don't have time for this Sherlock. I can't do this,” You slipped a little then took a deep breath making your way closer to the door. 
His large frame blocked you and you were surprised that he was making such an effort to keep you there. He looked like he was struggling to explain something. 
“You're angry. I don't understand why.” This made your blood boil.  “But Moriarty wants you.” 
“I’m glad someone does.” You bit back. His face was stern and you knew he wasn't going to let you leave and a part of you was happy to argue.  
“You don’t think I want you.” His voice was just above a snarl, and his eyes were dark. His anger had the opposite effect on your body, your pulse raced and you suddenly felt a few degrees too hot. His glare was consuming and you hated him for how attractive it was. 
“Obviously not. She was all over you, and you - you - you - just let her. Right in front of me - you didnt even -” He leaned his face closer to yours and your words cut off.
“She wants you to run out of here angry. There’s a delivery carriage just up the street that hasn't moved since she got here.”Sherlock whispered. “She’s already left, thinking you’d run out of here. We have the upper hand.” 
You thought about what he was saying, there was plenty of logic. The way her eyes would land on you periodically despite flirting with Sherlock. She was obvious too obvious about it. You still felt like fighting. 
“I don’t like this.” You gritted your teeth. Many converstations had recently been had over the many ups and downs of the life he lead. How you were attched to him publicly now due to a careless misstep. Now you understood his reluctance all these months. 
Moving in with him was the safest option. You didnt realise how angry all of that made you, how your private life was boiled down and sold as broth for everyone to consume. Somthing so dear to you, you knew deep down you wouldnt want to live without him. You closed your eyes, you wanted him. But the world needed him. All those murdered women, cases left unsolved completley neglected until he would show up. 
He was doing what was right. A thought that comforted the anger you felt at the loss of control. 
“Then let me make it up to you.” He said through gritted teeth. A voice in the back of your mind told you to run away from the darkness in his eyes. Your body stood frozen in place, welcoming his rage. 
He closed the space between the two of you and gripped your jaw tightly. You looked up at him with wide eyes, he was so angry. His mouth crashed into yours and you felt yourself slip away into blissful submission. 
This wasn't normal for you. When you wanted to fight you let him have it. You would shout at him and was always secretly grateful that he could take it. He never tried to take advantage, letting you express your emotions freely. Normally without consequence. But his hands were warm and gripping at your flesh madly.
You felt like you should make an effort to push back, try to take some control back. But your body had a mind of its own. You wanted him to make it up to you, and for once you didn’t want to be the one thinking and doing.  
You let him ravish you, pulling apart the front of your dress. His mouth biting the flesh along your breastbone. He pushed you against the living room wall, and a crashing sound was noted in your periphery but you didnt have the brain power to care. He used his knee to press his way between your legs. His hand ran up the inside of your thigh bringing your skirts up higher. 
His mouth tenderly sucked in a nipple causing you to knot your fingers in his hair. A groan escaped your lips, your eyes fluttered closed and the last of your thoughts faded away. 
Your mind was singularly focused on receiving his touch. He placed one last sharp bite against the base of your neck before picking you up. He kissed you messily as he carried you back to the bedroom. Kocking over piles of books and experiments. The place would be a disaster after but you didnt care. His large body somehow managed to safely navigate the chaos before reaching the bedroom. He threw you down on the bed and quickly discarded your dress. His body was on yours in the span of a breath, he wasn't going to risk letting you sober up and snap back to reality. 
A faint warning sounded that there were still men waiting outside the house… That thing could be dangerous. The thought only made you wetter. 
Your mind went blank as you felt his mouth on your clit. No warm-up, no warning. Your legs snapped shut and you let out a scream. Your hips bucked and he placed a hard slap to the side of your thigh. 
You were getting close, your voice was loud. He moved away and you tried to push his face back down. He resisted you easily. With a fluid motion, he had moved his whole length inside you. The stretch was almost enough to make you orgasm. 
“Not yet.” He snarled, thrusting inside you wildly. His large hand cradled your neck with a delicious grip, his teeth sinking into the flesh under your collarbone once more.  
The pain and pleasure was too much for you. Your hips met his every thrust desperate for his command. Your throat was sore from crying out. 
His thrusts became harder and deeper, stealing the air from your lungs. Your whole body was tensing up.
“Cum” he growled into your ear and your body contracted and seized. The pressure was unbearable, he forced his way in and out of your tight cunt, finding his own release. 
After an eternity your body finally collapsed into nothingness. The most soothing nothingness. 
Sherlock collapsed onto the bed next to you. Pulling you against his naked body tightly. You let him move your limp body, still not able to grasp the world. 
“I’m sorry.” He whispered into your hair. His voice was thick with grief, and you shuddered against the sudden cold that moved against your skin. “I will send you to Frace, there is a monastery there -” 
“Stange thing to do to a woman before banishing her to live with nuns” You mumbled rubbing your cheek against the hair on his chest. 
“I can keep you safe.” He sighed heavily. 
“Perfectly safe here. He’ll find me if you send me away, better to stay next to you. Handle this like every other case.” You were very proud of the contributions you made to the cases you had helped with.
___________
The man shifted looking down at his watch once again. The lady never left the apartment. He felt antsy, Moriarty made it very clear how he deals with disobedience, the last thing he wanted was to end up another case file on Sherlock’s desk. 
He didnt really want this job. He looked at the apartment window through his side-view mirror. Guilt hit him at the thought of kidnapping a woman. His brother had made it very clear that this was the only way to pay off his debts. The thought of his nephew and sister-in-law, made him stay in his seat. 
Stupid family. 
After a long while he got down from the carriage. He ran up the stairs and was hit with the sounds of crashing and screaming without his better judgment opened the apartment door.  221B, just like in the papers. 
To his astonishment, the place was trashed. Books, instruments, broken glass, and various liquids thrown across the hardwood. The sound of the woman’s screams made his stomach drop. Sounds like maybe someone else was hired, in case she went the other way or something. With a heavy sense of guilt, the man turned and shut the door behind him. He ran down the street leaving the carriage there. Maybe whoever else was on the mission would go back for it.
Thinking one last bitter thought about his family, he got on the next train out of London. He sat on the train and said a prayer for the poor woman, pledging never to get involved with such things again.
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painted-bees · 3 months
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Thinking a little more on the whole "when did Margie and Raf realize they were In A Relationship?" question, and while they'd both struggle to find a definitive moment, I think there was one particular situation that arose to kinda...lock things in for them.
Sometime prior to autumn 2009, Margie was headhunted by Bioware[Edmonton] thanks to the recommendation of an old Orbital Media colleague who was trying to establish/salvage Bioware's beleaguered handheld dev team. Following a promising phone interview, she was asked to make a 30 second demo track as part of the hiring process, and met expectations well enough that she was offered a job as an in-house musician and sound designer. Which also meant that she'd have to move to Edmonton. She had been keeping Raf up to date with this whole thing, mostly because she was too excited to keep it to herself. Raf was hugely supportive and excited -for- her. 'Cus like...he plays games. He even plays Bioware games, so, yanno...very cool. But he had also assumed this was gonna be more of a freelance contract kind of thing. And so, hearing her mention that the company would cover the costs of relocating her to Edmonton comes as a weird surprise. And suddenly, he's having a real hard time being excited for her. He keeps it to himself, 'cus he'd be an asshole not to. He's been really adamant with himself, and with anyone who asks, that he and Margie are just really good, comfortable friends/roommates. But even by this point, he's kinda known and been unwilling to admit to himself that the only reason he hasn't openly recognized their relationship for what it actually is--is because the non-committal ambiguousness provides him a clean way out if he starts feeling cagey/uncomfy about anything. It was an exit door that he liked keeping open incase he needed it. But Margie had seen it differently. To her, it was a door she figured she was gonna have to leave through eventually. Because Raf would inevitably find a more serious partner to settle down with, or he'd be whisked off by some other important venture that she couldn't be a part of. She figured he was leaving that door open because his current situation was a temporary transitional stage in his life that he simply allowed her to be a part of. And so, she's not really torn-up about the prospect of leaving, especially under the circumstances. It presented an easier, more exciting transition than she might have had to face if Raf had 'outgrown' her first.
So, Margie's excited about the new job offer, and Raf's sitting there feeling like he played himself--while being wholly unable/unwilling to tell her "Hey, uh...this sucks, actually, I really don't want you to go." Because that'd require him to admit that he's been lying to himself--which sucks. But more than that, it'd require him to admit that he's been lying to her--only employing honesty as a tool of convenience to dissuade her from going and getting something really good for herself. He can't, he won't. The sudden off-key in his tone, though, doesn't go unnoticed by her, and Margie is perfectly candid about the whole "we'll visit each other, I'll stay in touch--I'm not gonna disappear on you lmao" Except that's not really...how Raf operates. Distance + time does not make this man's paranoid lil' heart grow fonder. There's never been a relationship-friend, family, or otherwise-with enough staying power for Raf to maintain it once they're no longer within physical proximity. Even if he wants to 'keep in touch', it quickly falls off. He's just known...too many people, and been too many places...his brain doesn't have the bandwidth to maintain close relationships when there's a distance. And, after a long enough pause in communication, his paranoid anxieties lift the barrier of entry higher and higher until it's almost insurmountable. People become strangers again. Always. In the end, Bioware did not get to develop any more handheld titles, and the handheld division in Edmonton is dissolved before Margie was even offered a job start date to plan her big move around. And so the whole thing falls apart before it even had the chance to get started lmao. At which point, Raf finally allows himself to be honest and say "thank god, I was fuckin' dreading an empty apartment again." Treats her to a consolatory dinner, and gets to tell her as much as he is able to figure out for himself--that he doesn't really know what he wants, actually--but that things aren't as casual and clean-cut as he thought it was. He still can't bring himself to be like "yes, romantic committed relationship, that's us, that's what we are" but he does at least take measures to establish that he'd really like to take off his shoes, place them on the rack next to hers, and close the door behind him.
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wixhing0nastar · 1 year
Text
Abuse Narratives in RWBY: Yang Xiao Long Edition (Feat. Ruby Rose)
We've all witnessed and talked about Blake and Weiss being abuse survivors for years. Blake escaping from Adam and Weiss escaping from her father were both huge, impactful events that have shaped the narrative of the story in many ways.
Yang on the other hand has managed to fly mostly under the radar with the abuse she's suffered up to this point. Her jokey, happy-go-lucky facade tricking the audience just as well as it has her friends and family for years.
(Note: this is going to be a long post, so strap in. Also this is your warning I am not going to be holding back in my criticism of Tai, so if you don't want to see me go into detail about how exactly he abused Yang, I highly suggest turning back now).
TL:DR: Yang was neglected and parentified (aka: abused) as a child and that’s the root of a lot of the issues that she’s currently struggling with in Volume 9 and a large part of her healing is going to be centered around her relationship with Blake going forward.
Let's start by establishing what exactly I'm referring to when I say that Yang has been abused. Because while I'm certainly referring to her being neglected after Summer's death, I'm more so referring to the years of Parentification that was caused by said neglect (in addition to the verbal and emotional abuse hurled her way).
Let's start by defining what exactly Parentification is since it's where most of Yang's current problems stem from.
[Parentification is] a disturbance in the generational boundaries, such that evidence indicates a functional and/or emotional role reversal in which the child sacrifices his or her own needs for attention, comfort, and guidance in order to accommodate and care for the logistical and emotional needs of a parent and/or sibling. (Hooper, 2007b, p. 323)
Ruby establishes in Volume 9, Chapter 1 that Yang was the one who raised her. It's important to note that in the context of her saying that, she's telling Yang that Yang was the one responsible for her moral development as a kid.
Research has shown that the building blocks for morality are generally in place by the age of 4. However, "children need adults to help them at every stage of childhood to nurture these seeds into full development." (Harvard, Raising Caring, Respectful, Ethical Children, p. 1) With "childhood" commonly considered infancy to age 12.
Using this we can reasonably assume that Yang was Ruby's primary caretaker or at the very least co-parenting with Tai from the time of Summer's death to at least age 14 (when Ruby was 12)... which mind you, is already over a decade total and only three years before the show starts.
Now that we've got some of the science out of the way, let's start looking at the show itself to see just how bad the situation was.
Burning the Candle
This iconic scene actually paints a fairly horrifying picture of Yang and Ruby's early childhood when you start to break it down.
I waited for dad to leave the house.
Meaning that by that point, probably only a few months after Summer's death based on the timeline Yang establishes, Yang already knows Tai will reliably leave her and Ruby alone without supervision for extended periods of time in order to pull this off.
I must have walked for hours.
Meaning that it likely took several hours for someone to even notice they were missing in the first place. The fact Qrow knew exactly where they were indicates that Yang either left a note or clue about where they were headed and I'm willing to bet the only reason it took Yang that long to walk was because she was like two feet tall at the time (since Patch is like... a tiny island... which brings me to the next line...
A toddler asleep in the back of a wagon
Again, to clarify, Ruby was a toddler. Toddlers are between 1-3 years old... meaning this all happened when Yang was a maximum of (and likely, based on their physical appearances) 5 years old.
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So to summarize, Tai was regularly leaving Yang, his five-year-old, home alone and in charge of her three-year-old sister... which would be horrifying to think about on its own but this is Remnant.
Which means that Tai was regularly leaving his grieving five-year-old at home alone when they didn't live inside a kingdom's border and there were known wild Grimm in the area... who are attracted to negative emotions.
Wow... I wonder why Yang felt the need to try to diffuse the tension with humor and keep everyone in high spirits all the time. It’s almost like it was a life or death situation growing up. (/s)
Anger, Fear, and Burn
Before jumping into the next big narrative piece, let’s talk a little bit about Yang’s semblance, Burn, and how it works. Because it’s important to establish before starting to dig into Volume 4.
Let’s start with how Ruby describes it:
Don't worry! With each hit she gets stronger, and she uses that energy to fight back! That's what makes her special.
Notice how Ruby doesn't mention anything about Yang needing to be angry to use her Semblance? In fact, while it’s unclear if this is entirely true, it has been stated previously that Yang’s powers come in part from her hair and no one has refuted that claim in like 8 years so it holds some weight.
Moreover, recent volumes have actually been hinting that Yang likely doesn't even need to use her anger to activate/maintain burn. And that she just does so out of habit more than anything.
Now, why exactly would someone intentionally limit themselves by tying their semblance into in emotion like that? Well, first let’s answer the question, why anger?
And well... anger is a secondary emotion.
A secondary emotion is an emotion fueled by other emotions... masking your feelings of sadness, hurt or grief with anger can be easier than experiencing the primary emotion.
And moreover,
The feelings that anger commonly masks include fear, anxiety, guilt, shame, embarrassment, betrayal, jealousy, sadness, hurt, and worry. (Alta Loma, Understanding Anger as a Secondary Emotion, Web, emphasis added).
Fear is, of course, a bit of a running theme in RWBY, there was a whole speech and song about it at the end of Volume 7, after all.
But more than that, there've been two people on two separate occasions who've called Yang out for being scared when she's posturing: Ren and Raven.
And while Ren was pointing out that she uses humor to try to deflect when she’s scared, when Raven said this to Yang she was absolutely outwardly angry... and Yang admits to being scared in the moment yet still standing there.
Also note that humor = friends/winning, anger = enemies/losing.
Which makes you wonder, what was happening growing up that made Yang instinctively react to fear of danger with anger and planting her feet instead of running away? For that let's go back to what we learned from Burning the Candle and the V5 short real quick.
We know there are living Grimm on Patch. Maybe not as many as elsewhere, but both times we are given glimpses into Yang and Ruby's childhood on Patch they are attacked by Grimm, which isn't a great sign.
How old do you think Yang was the first time she or Ruby had a bad day and attracted one of them on accident and she had to fight it off on her own (because she couldn't run, she had to protect Ruby)?
How many nights do you think Yang would spend reading Ruby stories and telling her dumb jokes to get her to laugh to try to make sure they weren't attacked? How often did Ruby have to force herself to be okay? For both their sake?
Volume 4
Now let's talk about Volume 4, aka: when Tai had the chance to step up and didn't.
Now right off the bat he's okay. There's nothing inherently wrong with him bringing her the arm and being excited at the thought because he doesn't know how she's going to react to it though it is a little weird he opened her mail without permission.
The rest of Yang's first V4 episode, however, makes it very clear both to us as the audience and Tai that Yang isn't doing okay... but Tai doesn't do anything to attempt to help her.
Which is why what happens in the next episode is kinda messed up.
Yang wakes up from a nightmare about losing her arm in a seriously traumatizing event and goes downstairs when she realizes there's a distraction people are over.
Then we get the fight and despite Yang laughing it off in the end... honestly Tai is being very condescending towards her, which Yang even points out. Like, someone made a slightly adult joke in front of her and he flies off the handle and starts a fight with her and starts making digs about her not being a real adult ready for the real world and let's just break that down before dealing with the actual problems in this episode.
Yang, as established, has been fulfilling the role of parent (while barely getting any parenting herself) for years. She's been fulfilling the role of an adult since she was 5! And at this point in the show she's also legally an adult. So not only is it condescending, it's also untrue.
Then we get this line.
I guess you lost some brain cells along with that arm.
Not only is this beyond callus, Yang is clearly actually upset by this.
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And notably, she only treats it as a joke after Oobleck dropped his cup. AKA: after being reminded that they aren’t alone in the room.
(And remember, Yang uses humor as a coping mechanism).
And both Oobleck and Port can clearly tell that this wasn’t appropriate at all and immediately following that, they pointedly step in to ask Yang how she is doing with everything.
Which Tai has not done.
And Yang opens up to them! And she tells them that she’s still struggling and coming to terms with what happened to her. Which in turn causes Tai to finally talk to her about it, but he’s being pushy about her getting back out and “being her new normal” and even refers to her PTSD as moping when she just got done saying she’s still trying to process and recover.
And it’s again Port specifically who steps in and gives her some genuine advice without trying to push her her into anything she’s not ready for and then Oobleck joins in and they go out if their way to ham it up to make her laugh.
So overall, Tai’s being extremely dismissive of the trauma that she’s gone through and minimizing her feelings at every turn.
Which then leads to this scene...
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Which is when Tai’s dismissiveness starts to make sense (and I’ll come back to this when I’m analyzing the last episode).
Let’s break it down. To start, Tai knows that Yang is going up to her room, they pointedly have her call out goodnight from upstairs so Tai knows where she is physically and what her intentions are.
Secondly, there’s no way that Tai doesn't know you can hear people talking from the front door from Yang’s room. He’s owned this house for like two decades minimum at this point.
So when Oobleck and Port ask after Ruby, there’s no way he should assume Yang won’t be able to hear everything he says. And he very much lays the burden of Ruby’s safety at Yang’s feet. He’s not going after her because he has to “look after some things.”
AKA: Yang.
And then she comes to him literally the next day wearing the new arm and wanting to train and he doesn't question her at all, even though 12 hours earlier Yang was very much not ready?
We then don’t see her at all for five episodes until we get the scene where she’s training with Tai and honestly, his advice is kinda horrible.
To start, even he says his advice is based on watching her Vytal Festival fights, meaning that everything is based on watching three matches.
He points out she uses her semblance to win every fight after the qualifiers (which is true), and Yang rightly points out that everyone uses their semblances to help them win. Then Tai says this:
Because not everyone else’s is basically a temper tantrum.
Not only is this very unlikely to be true, but even if Yang does need to rely on her anger to activate her semblance, calling it a temper tantrum isn’t accurate at all.
In fact, the way Yang uses her semblance takes a great deal of emotional regulation to pull off. She not only is able to make herself angry enough to use it at will, she’s also able to stop using it at will. Meaning Yang is capable of instantaneously switching from one emotion to another.
That’s not a temper tantrum, that’s someone with superb emotional control choosing what emotion to feel when it’s most appropriate.
Furthermore, the “what happens if you miss” comment is so ridiculous I don’t even know how to start other than saying we literally saw exactly what happens when Yang misses her first attempt in Volume 2! When her semblance is being revealed! And the answer is... she gets another shot.
And if they’re stronger... like not using the thing that makes her ridiculously powerful is certainly not going to help.
And honestly... Yang doesn’t do what Tai says. He says it’s useful in a bind but Yang doesn’t use her semblance only in emergencies from here on end. In fact, what she actually does is pick up some tricks from Pyrrha and she starts hiding her semblance from people!
And noticeably, Tai isn’t the one who tells Yang to fight smarter. That’s a line of thinking she develops on her own between the first and second times she faced Adam.
And then Tai takes credit for her “suddenly” getting better like she hadn’t successfully hit him so hard he needed to take a pause and the fight he did win was only because he attacked her when she was being vulnerable with him... her father who she’s of course not going to assume is going to attack her while she’s opening up to him... because she wouldn’t do that to Ruby.
And then we get to Yang’s last (real) episode of the volume when she’s setting out to get Ruby. Remember when I said Tai’s dismissiveness started to make sense and we’d come back to it? Well we’re back to it.
Note how Yang pointedly doesn’t tell Tai that she’s leaving, despite him having indicated to Port and Oobleck that the only reason he wasn’t also going after Ruby was because he was staying with Yang?
And how in the end he doesn’t leave with Yang to go find Ruby even though supposedly the only reason he hadn’t was because he wanted to make sure Yang was okay? And now Yang’s going after Ruby? Alone?
Paired with how pushy and condescending he was acting towards her in the other two Volume 4 episodes he was in, on top of having neglected and parentified her for at least a decade, this really reads as him wanting Yang to get better so he can shove her out the door to go after Ruby, and not him caring at all about her as a person.
(Which is why I really struggle to feel bad for him in his V8 scene... if he was so worried he could have been there).
Yang’s Actual Temper Tantrums
Let’s address these really quick before moving on to the final section. We’ve actually seen/heard of four different instances where Yang actually was having something resembling a temper tantrum while using her semblance.
I’m going to start with the Neon fight because it’s the easiest. But Neon as a character relies on knocking her opponents off balance by getting under their skin in a fight. She tries to make them angry and yes, it does work on Yang in this instance. But that’s Neon’s whole thing, in any other match up Yang would have been fine.
The other three times all had to do with her hair (namely, when Junior gets her hair in her trailer, when the ursa gets her hair in the Emerald Forest and... in V4 when Tai refers to her having a rough first haircut).
Going back to the bit about how Yang’s powers, in part, come from her hair and this actually makes a lot of sense in the context of Yang’s childhood. If she was regularly in charge of protecting Ruby and some of the finite power she did have as a kid was because of her hair, of course she gets freaked out by losing some... and we’ve already talked about Yang using anger as a mask for fear.
Bumbleby and Volume 9
So let’s talk about where we’re going now, because of all three of the abuse survivors in this show, Yang is the only one who hasn’t really been confronted with and forced to deal with it yet.
Because at the end of the day, being parentified and neglected for years has left Yang scared to open up emotionally and more than that, uncertain of her identity outside of being Ruby’s parent.
Because up to going to Beacon, that was basically Yang’s entire life. It’s entirely possible the only reason she went to Signal was to learn how to protect Ruby better all things considered.
Which is why the development between her and Blake is so important this volume. Yang desperately needs to be valued as something other a caretaker and protector and so far they’ve been emphasizing the fact that Blake loves Yang because she’s a goofy dork who makes her smile, not because she’s strong enough to level a mountain.
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And while Blake’s relationship with Adam was abusive, unlike Yang, Blake does have a framework for health relationships thanks to Ghira and Kali and she’s worked through her own trauma from being abused romantically enough that she’s in a place emotionally to help Yang start working though hers. Starting by giving Yang a person she can trust not to leave who also isn’t and has never been dependent on her to muck up Yang’s healing process.
Because there’s a difference between someone choosing to stay and someone not having any other choice because they were/are dependent on you. And (absolutely no shade to Ruby here) she’s already had someone in the latter position choose to leave her anyways.
In Conclusion
Yang was abused as a child and into her late teens and is in desperate need of some type of unconditional love and affection that she doesn’t feel there are strings attached to in order to finally begin healing...
And therapy, but they’re a little low on that for the foreseeable future.
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