#i made this for myself more than you lets be honest
Note
could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐
mad at you | l.mk
“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”
💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we
❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.
❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader
❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex
❯ words: 4.3k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.
an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.
The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had.
But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales.
You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.
So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment.
He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think.
He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous.
The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.
“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”
You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy.
“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”
You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”
"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."
Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath.
“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”
“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”
He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”
“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”
“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”
You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.
“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug.
“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”
“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap.
Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair.
“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”
You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought.
“Oh, so you want to break up?”
He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”
The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other.
Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.
Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.
“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”
“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it.
Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument.
He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.
After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys.
It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy.
Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.
Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to.
As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes.
You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.
The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.
However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.
“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.
You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”
Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.
His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head.
"I thought you left..."
Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.
“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw.
You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap.
He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”
His kindness only amplifies your guilt.
"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."
Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."
"No—"
He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."
Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.
"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."
"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"
Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"
His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.
"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."
You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”
You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.
Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.
His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.
Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.
You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.
He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.
“‘s okay,” you whimper.
Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.
He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock.
He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too.
And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers.
“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”
You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud.
“Mark…”
“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.”
You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.
And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.
As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been.
You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.”
He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock.
Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does.
The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.
You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick.
You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment.
Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.
Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.
And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more.
You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you.
So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...
“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”
You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.
“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”
And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax.
And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back.
The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do.
You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed.
You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.
"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.
"I’m sorry," you say softly.
You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."
#🏷frompaige#mark lee smut#nct dream smut#nct 127 smut#nct smut#mark lee x reader#nct dream x reader#nct 127 x reader#nct x reader#kpop smut#nct hard hours#nct oneshot
650 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Goodbye to The Bad Batch
I don’t even know what to say first. Because this is goodbye, but it is also everything but. But I suppose I should start at the beginning.
Just a couple of years ago I found my love for Star Wars. My entire life, as far back as I can remember, my dad has tried to get me into the fandom. Now, he’s not a fan the exact same way some of us are, he’d only watched the saga and the Mandalorian, funnily enough I was the one to introduce him to The Clone Wars and beyond, but it’s been a joy in his life for a very long time. I was never interested in it when I was little, but then I got a little older and Star Wars started to capture my interest.
One random weekend, I believe in 2021 or 2022, I decided that I was going to watch all nine saga movies in those forty-eight hours, and then start on my goal to watch every show and the additional movies.
This is, without a shred of doubt, one of the greatest decisions I have ever made, and one that I will never regret. I would not be the person I am had I not given Star Wars a chance.
It would sound ridiculous to anyone anywhere else, but this has become such a safe place for me that I know I can be honest.
Everyone finds that one thing that makes them happy like nothing else. A person, a hobby, a place, a fandom. Mine is the galaxy far, far away that lets me escape from my life whenever I need to.
The Star Wars fandom has its faults, and there is so much hatred.
But more than anything, there is love like no love I have ever experienced before. The love between fans and our love for these movies and shows is something I never expected to have in my life. But somehow, for some reason, it has all found a permanent place in my heart, and I couldn’t be happier.
At this time, the first season of The Bad Batch had just been released. I was branching out, watching The Clone Wars and then jumping to The Book of Boba Fett, though I’m not sure why I chose to watch everything in such a completely random order.
But then I started The Bad Batch.
I had no idea what Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, Echo, and Omega would come to mean to me.
I have dealt with a lot in the last few years. Nothing compared to others, but depression finds a way to wedge into your life. I love to be alone, but I don’t like to be lonely, and I have managed to isolate myself to a point of misery.
I found more comfort in The Bad Batch than anything else in my life, and I will never forget the joy The Bad Batch brought me in these last few years.
I began to write when I found Star Wars, and I was inspired to do so by The Bad Batch. Before, I had never felt so compelled by any one piece of media to add my own part of it to the world, until this. Writing has become another escape, one that gives me an outlet to continue the stories of characters left behind.
What I already knew has been reaffirmed, the lessons I have learned remain with me, and will even after this is over.
That it’s okay to feel afraid, because everyone does, and to make mistakes, provided you learn from them.
That feeling out of place for one reason or another does not make you unworthy of love, and having limitations with affection isn’t something you need to apologize for.
That being goofy, having fun, finding joy in the dark places, is just as vital a part of life as anything else, if not what we need more than anything.
That taking time for yourself, to make sure you don’t fall apart, even while taking care of others, is important.
That our worst moments can be one of two things, what consumes us, or what we grow from.
That being a young woman is not a detriment to your worth, intelligence, talent, or any other aspect of life, but is in fact what makes you strongest.
That what makes us unique and our faults are a part of who we are, but they do not define us, and we are so much more than the ideas people have of us.
My only regret is not making friends when I had the chance. I’m bad at that, opening up and putting myself out there, and I shy away from talking to new people because it makes me uncomfortable. But I wish I had been able to put that aside before it was too late and found people who love The Bad Batch the way I do to continue talking to, even after the show ends.
But to all the people who have supported me and who I have supported, thank you for being part of my Bad Batch experience.
It's very difficult to believe that this is it.
Though The Bad Batch has not been around long, it feels like it has, because as long as I have been watching Star Wars, The Bad Batch has been in its active run, and I’m so grateful I got to be here when it was.
I know that even when the credits roll for the final time, when the greater fandom forgets the show that they never really understood the way we have, I’ll be here, and hopefully, so will all of you. I think that the family brought together by The Bad Batch will endure, even if we go quiet for a while.
We’ll stick around, for the day the Batch comes back. Because I know they will.
Thank you Clone Force 99, the Bad Batch fandom, Dee Bradley Baker, Michelle Ang, the Kiners, and everybody who played a part in telling this story.
The impact The Bad Batch has had on my life has been profound, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. It’s been a wild ride, and I have enjoyed every second of it. It has been a privilege to be a part of this piece in the ever growing history that makes up Star Wars.
Goodbye, Bad Batch. Until next time.
“Change takes getting used to. You’ll see. Just give it time.”
#star wars#the bad batch#tbb#star wars the bad batch#sw tbb#star wars tbb#sw the bad batch#the bad batch season 3#tbb crosshair#crosshair tbb#crosshair bad batch#tbb tech#tech tbb#tech bad batch#tbb wrecker#wrecker tbb#wrecker bad batch#tbb hunter#hunter tbb#hunter bad batch#tbb echo#echo tbb#echo bad batch#tbb omega#omega tbb#omega bad batch
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
So. There's been a lot of speculation, and a lot of hot and lukewarm and some honest and valid takes about the new trailer and the potential of what might go down next ep.
I've been thinking thoughts, and I have my own personal stance on the matter. And no, I will not be 'taking criticism', because this is the way I view things in general, and it won't change. So this isn't me opening up a debate about this, this is just me sharing my personal views, which you absolutely can agree or disagree with. (So if your views on cheating are vastly different from mine, don't come at me telling me how wrong I am, I'm not doing that at you either)
That being said, here are my thoughts and beliefs.
Kissing isn't (automatically) cheating.
For me, it highly, highly depends on the accompanying circumstances. There are kisses for shits and giggles that are not cheating. There are kisses happening under heavy influence of whatever substance - something that can render you legally not responsible for a lot of things, so how does it make you responsible for a moment's poor choice?
There are kisses that are done deliberately with intention and feelings/high physical attraction involved, and THAT is cheating.
When we look at the Buck/Lucy kiss, I didn't see it as huge a deal as many of the fandom did. The kiss itself somewhat fell into the second category. But what made it at the very least borderline cheating was the fact that Buck made a secret of it afterwards. Had he said "Look, something happened last night. I was drunk, then Lucy kissed me, and I didn't instantly pull back, but I didn't want to kiss her again or anything. I have no feelings for her whatsoever and I will watch myself in future a whole lot more to notice any signs of flirting, which, in hindsight, there were. I'm sorry." - then I think that's still grounds for a partner to be mad, sad, disappointed, but it's not really full-on cheating. Not in my book, by my definition.
Emotional cheating is much worse than physical cheating
Being in love with someone and knowing it, imagining yourself to be with that other person, THAT is much more cheating by my definition than a fleeting kiss. And sometimes, depending on the circumstances, maybe even more than a drunken fumble or one night stand, but that is a very complex question.
However, emotional cheating means you're not really in it with your current partner, pining for someone else but settling for what you can have out of convenience, fear of being left behind or some other highly egoistical motivation. That really sucks.
(I've seen that take expressed on my dashboard as well, though with slightly different nuance to what I feel and believe, but pretty close)
So, taking these two of my underlying beliefs as the basis, what can I see happen in the next episode that would leave me feel okay with it, or happy about it, and what would make me feel iffy about it?
Let's start with the iffy.
Buck:
If, at any point in their drunken Hangover-movie escapades Buck and Eddie kiss, full on kiss (with maybe a little bit of tongue), and that kicks something lose in Buck, I would utterly hate that.
Not that I wouldn't find it plausible that a kiss like that would trigger him realizing romantic feelings for Eddie, but that it happens now.
Someone else made a long post about negative stereotypes about bisexuals, and I agree. This is the promiscuity/bisexuals can't be trusted to be faithful stereotype, and I don't want Buck to ever be seen in that light.
Also, Buck JUST (and that post mentioned that too) convinced Tommy to come with him to the wedding, that he's ready for something... only to emotionally cheat (because it's that aspect for me rather than the kiss itself) on him the very next opportunity?
"But Tommy and Buck aren't in a relationship yet," I heard someone say, and well, yes. But this isn't REAL LIFE. It's writing. Things are crafted in a certain way to form a story, and stories have a purpose. The narrative gave us an arc where Buck seemingly wasn't ready for a relationship with a man yet, where he fucked up and had to fix that, had to take a leap and take some courage to make it work.
Just purely from a narrative standpoint, it would be so inconsistent to reverse that healthy step forward just one episode later.
From what we know about the episode, it also doesn't look like he's breaking up with Tommy in that episode. A lovely, potentially dramatic moment where Buck kisses Tommy in front of everyone as a means of 'coming out' is highly implied/likely. So that would mean him being aware of some feelings towards Eddie and still going through with that. And yeah. No. I'd really, really fucking hate that.
Eddie:
If they kiss at some point and it kicks something loose in Eddie, and he then goes back to Marisol... I'd have much less of a problem with that because it could still be explained and justified with him just being in utter panic about coming out. It would match the catholic guilt arc, and all his previous attempts at conforming to heteronormativity... BUT, if the relationship just continued as is and he'd actively use her as beard that would be shitty, even for poor confused, repressed, closeted Eddie.
The Not Iffy
On with Eddie:
If that kiss brings something to the surface in Eddie and he then breaks up with Marisol one episode later I would not consider that cheating or poor morals or anything of the sort. He wasn't aware of it until that moment, and as soon as he is aware of it and has had a little bit of time to process it, he draws the right consequences from it and breaks off a relationship he's not fully in.
So this would actually be fine to me. This could be the kick starter for a potentially long and complex arc for Eddie to a) come to terms with his sexuality and b) pine for Buck from a distance, because Buck is with Tommy and c) eventually, when the time is right, for Buddie to go canon.
Buck:
The kiss itself wasn't a serious or real kiss. I'd be okay with it, if it was some silly, exaggerated "MWAH" smack of the lips kiss, prompted by someone or something around them - I dunno, maybe one of the women there saying "Aww you're such a cute couple" and they going in for it just for shits and giggles; or Buck gushing about Tommy and what a great kisser he is and Eddie drunkenly, outwardly jokingly saying "Hey, I'm a great kisser too!" and them jokingly leaning in for a smooch, again, for shits and giggles.
Buck afterwards doesn't even remember it because it meant nothing in that moment, and so he's neither seriously physically nor emotionally cheating on Tommy in the slightest.
"But Buck has deep feelings for Eddie. How can he kiss him and not realize them?"
Well, see, Buck has been around Eddie for almost 6 years now and not realized them. They are so, so far past that getting to know and falling in love phase that it makes it a bazillion times more complicated to distinguish those deep platonic feelings from deep romantic feelings (because, what it comes down to in both instances is a deep bond; the bond of love you feel after years of dating isn't that different from a deep platonic bond. Again, Eros vs. Pragma and all that).
But Buck is *in love* with Tommy, he's just entered that exciting, chemically turbulent process of falling in love with someone which, with all the newly formed neural connections and all those hormones overrides anything else that has long since been present and is only now presented with the opportunity to take on a new nuance. Of course he doesn't get it, and he likely won't get it until much, much later, when he's falling out of love with Tommy again for whatever reason, or they break up amicably for whatever reason.
And THIS again is something that could easily go into the iffy, because I would really fucking HATE the implication that Buck needs to break up with Tommy to be with his One True Love. I don't want this to be a difficult and painful choice.
IF (when) Buddie goes canon, I want them both to be ready and free for it and not accidentally pushed towards it, or struggle with a guilty conscience for it, or hurt someone else about it. (Marisol wouldn't count in that context as Eddie would have broken up with her months ago and gone on his own long self-discovery trip).
So yes, even if for slightly different reasons, and even if my views on what constitutes 'cheating' may differ from a lot of yours, I agree that any actual MUTUAL feelings realization right now, under these external circumstances, would totally tarnish the beginning of the Buddie relationship.
Which also makes me hopeful it won't happen in such a way. Up until now, the writing has been extremely solid, and Buck's coming out arc has been done with so much care. I doubt they'd do something that ruins it. (But I'm not 100% sure of it either).
#buddie#evan buckley#eddie diaz#911 spoilers#this is not an invitation for debate#respectfual nuanced exchange and dialog#yes#but don't lecture me on my morals#I'm very solid and confident in them
22 notes
·
View notes
Note
OKAY SO I DECIDED TO DO IT PROPERLY
WRITE SOMETHING WITH ODETTE LIKE MAKING OUT WITH HER (AND MAYBE LIKE WE SHOULDNT BE DOING IT CAUSE LIKE NO ONE KNOWS ABOUT THE RELATIONSHIP IF IT IS EVEN ONE) (the build up to it too if you feel like it!!) AND THEN CLARA CATCHING US AND TEASING BOTH OF US BUT MOSTLY ODETTE CAUSE DUH!!
~your biggest fan😙; LOVE YOU SUNSHINE!!🩷
Interrupt much??
Summary - *ask* Reader and Odette have an established relationship
Warnings - Small make out session. Probably OOC for Odette😭
Author’s Note - I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG- I HAD WRITERS BLOCK AND LIKE NO MOTIVATION😭 SO SORRY POOKIE😭😭 IM SO MAD CUZ ITS SO SHORT AND IT TOOK MORE THAN A WEEK😭(One of my favorite songs, just a bop to listen too, not really related to the fic💀)
You and Odette have been dating for a while now. Not that anyone knew about it, but you had. You hadn’t told anyone about it since Odette wasn’t very comfortable with sharing the news yet, and you were okay with that, you went at her own pace. The only problem was that in order for you guys to meet without being caught would be that you would constantly have to climb in through her window in order to get your cuddles worth. Today was no different than usual.
You did your usual routine of climbing up a tree(which always hurt to be honest) opening the window, and climbing in. Odette had been waiting for you for a while. "What have I said about being punctual? Mother arrives in almost 2 hours." Odette scolded you sternly. "Sorry, the tree was giving me trouble again. The important thing is that I’m here.” You added, barely making it through the window.
Odette was sitting on her bed with her arms crossed. You collapsed onto her lap. “We need to find some other way to meet up, that tree makes my back hurt. More than you would at least,” you teased, this caused Odette to turn red. She smacked your arm. “Shut up. You’re such a tease.” Odette said with a red face.
You rolled your eyes playfully and cupped her cheek with your hand, she turned an even brighter shade of red. "You're warm" you muttered. "Well, last time I checked, I'm not a reptile so I don't think I'm meant to be cold?" She said with a soft giggle as she played with your hair. "Haha, very funny- I was TRYING to say I could you make you warmer" you teased grabbing a hold of her chin and making her face upwards so her neck was exposed. She got flustered and swatted your hand away, "Sh-shut up!"
You sat up and adjusted yourself on her lap, wrapping your legs around her waist. You chuckled softly, giving her a soft peck on the cheek. "You're so soft and comfortable, I could stay with you all day." You smiled softly, resting your head on her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around your back and rested her head on yours. You could tell she was getting comfortable around you and your affection a lot more. You began to nuzzle into her neck and could’ve sworn she purred a little. She turned red again and looked away. You saw how she had reacted and let out a soft chuckle, ‘she’s so cute’ you thought as you continued to nuzzle into her.
You had the urge to just take a small bite, a little nibble if you will. You pinched her neck with your teeth and Odette let out a sharp wince followed by a soft moan of pain. “H-halt! That hurt!” She whined. “Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself” You chuckled back. “Hmph” she crossed her arms and looked away, her face still red.
“Fine, fine. I’m sorry. Will kisses help?” You asked cupping her face. She was giving you the silent treatment. You grabbed a hold of her shoulders and shook her, causing her to giggle. “So?” You asked. “Maybe…but it’s not guaranteed!” she added with a cheeky smile. “Good enough for me.” You smiled. You leaned in for a soft kiss. Odette’s lips met with yours in warm kiss, she hesitated at first but she still wrapped her arms around your waist. You made sure to stay at her own pace, which was actually not as slow as you expected. You placed your hands on her neck as you kept kissing her tenderly. You could tell Odette was still getting flustered and you pulled away slowly. “You okay, darling?” You asked, wanting to make sure she was comfortable. “Mhm!” Odette smiled. “Just not used to it as much yet- But I’ll get the hang of it, I promise” Odette leaned in again, the kiss was much quicker this time. Odette was still blushing, but you could tell she was a lot more comfortable now.
You could feel yourself gaining more and more butterflies, your chest was becoming a little tighter. You moved your hands slightly more up into her scalp. The feeling of her hair intertwined with your fingers wasn’t new, but it sure as hell felt more familiar. You were breathing a little heavier too. As the kiss continued to deepen, the door suddenly opened. It was Clara, Odette’s sister, who was standing there staring at her phone. “Hey sis do you know where……..” she looked up and trailed off.
Odette immediately pushed you off of her, causing you to fall on the floor. “Ever heard of knocking?” You chuckled. “Did I interrupt you guys about to fuck or something?” She said with a grin. “W-WE WERE NOT! W-WE WERE JUST KISSING! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE GUTTERS!” Odette said as her face turned red. “Wait, we weren’t?” You added while getting up, obviously you were teasing, which made Odette get more annoyed.
“Dang sis, I didn’t take you for the type to have hook ups.” Clara said with a teasing grin. “I’m not! Y/n is my girlfriend, you imbecile!” Odette exclaimed in annoyance. You sat down next to your girlfriend and grabbed a hold of her hand. Suddenly, Clara turned to you and gave you a ‘seriously?’ type of look. “Really…? Her?” Clara pointed at her sister, Odette rolled her eyes. “I know, right? It’s hard to believe for me too.” You grinned. You felt Odette let go of your hand and give you an elbow to the side, which actually hurt REALLY bad.
Odette stood up and you followed. “Look, darling, as much as I crave your attention, I also crave your silence. So, how about you…I don’t know..?…shut up?” Odette added facing you. “As if you can shut me up.” You scoffed. Clara had a grin plastered on her face, she found this amusing. “Careful, she might pull a ‘no cuddles for a week’ on you” Clara chuckled. “Make that two weeks” Odette grumbled. “You aren’t helping, Clara!” You shouted at her. “Lucky for you, that wasn’t my intention” Clara shrugged with a grin.
You hugged Odette by the waist. “Don’t do this to meeeee….” you pleaded resting your head on her shoulder and glaring at Clara. “Hey, you got yourself into this” Clara argued and crossed her arms. “But I wasn’t deprived of cuddles until you said something!” You shot back. “Boys, boys, you’re both handsome. And I respectfully take away such punishments since I’m pretty sure I’d give in after an hour or so.” Odette interrupted and had a faint, annoyed, smile on her face. You and Clara both rolled your eyes.
“So-? How long has this been going on?” Clara said sitting on Odette’s bed, you let go of Odette’s waist and stand next to her, grabbing her hand. “5 months,” you responded, kissing the hand you just grabbed. Odette pouted but her cheeks let off a small hue of pink, “5 months and 3 days,” she mumbled. “5 months and 3 days if you want specifics.” You added with a small smile. “What the fuck?? You’ve kept this a secret for that long??” Clara looked absolutely flabbergasted, especially when she turned to her sister . “Well- I wouldn’t exactly consider that first month as ‘dating’ but it was close enough?” You added. “Let me guess, you would occasionally hold hands while Odette called you darling?” Clara said looking at her sister, which made Odette turn red a little. “I considered it to be dating-“ Odette mumbled. “-What matters is that we’re officially together now.” You interrupted.
“Just as long as you don’t break her heart or do anything she doesn’t want to do, I approve of this relationship.” Clara shrugged, she stepped closer to you, seeming menacing. “In all seriousness though, if you break her heart, I’ll break your bones” she glared. “Y-yes ma’am-…” You shot back as fast as a gun shot. Dang- Clara may be younger but you could’ve sworn she seemed like an overprotective older sister for a second there-
“Alright, well, I’ll let you two be. Y’all can go somewhere, I’ll cover for you” Clara spoke as she continued to glare at you. She eventually turned and walked out of the room. Odette scoffed and turned back to you. “You feel like going out somewhere?” She asked. “Sure, darling” You replied with a smile. You grabbed Odette by the hand and dragged her outside. You had won over sister-in-law, but what about mother-in-law, hm? Luckily, that’s a problem for another time. Right now, it was just you and your girlfriend taking a peaceful stroll in hell, hand in hand, for what you wanted to be forever…
THIS FEELS SO SHORT UGHHHHHH
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
OK, listen, so I know we're all feral over the way Aziraphale stares at Crowley with those fucking sparkling heart eyes that make me wanna eat my own socks.
But also, can I have a moment of unwell silence for the way Crowley stares at Aziraphale? The way his mouth sets in an almost imperceptible smile? The way his eyes could bore through a brick wall just to stare at his angel, even hidden behind sunglasses? The way his body orients to Aziraphale as he moves?
Fuck
#i am unwell#i made this for myself more than you lets be honest#please just put me in time out already#good omens#aziraphale#aziracrow#crowley
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#I'm in such a better head space than i was this time last year#I'm not gonna spend the day waiting for you to care#because when i think about it really think about it you've never actually shown that you give a fuck about the things that matter to me#if I'm honest to myself you never cared about me as a person#you only liked the way i made you feel about yourself#and that's the realest thing I could finally understand#I'm not gonna spend today crying wanting you to come back. not like last year.#it's my birthday and I'm going to spend it without you and i don't need your validation any more.#personal#🍑#i love you but it doesn't matter. I'm letting you go.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
I dunno... I wish I could explain to people how I see the world and how some things about my world view could help them through what they're going through...
Don't get me wrong. I'm not a paragon of mental health or balanced thinking. I'm not. There are just some things and ways that I think that are healthy and useful skills.
#i dont know who i am right now. i feel more like veronica than kk...#anyways. as a system. there are ways that we look at the world.#like taking responsibility for our own actions and holding ourselves accountable for them. sure thats partly trauma but its partly healing#its so hard sometimes for us to not point out how helpful it would be for someone to stop & look at what theyve contributed to a#negative situation. because life is complicated and people are complicated.#and sometimes admitting that i did a shitty thing that hurt someone to that person AND to MYSELF is what it takes to repair things.#sometimes it hurts to admit to myself that i did something awful or even just kind of dickish. but i do.#and i dont know. i think its partly a self-humbling that comes with vulnerability but its also this...#honesty exercise. like. if you cant be honest with yourself then you cant grow as a person.#and i can be so angry at and hurt by someone and STILL say Yes I Did Something Wrong too.#and nobody read this and think im talking about abusers because im not.#if its an abuser situation then dont try to fix anything just try to survive and escape.#but on that note! lol. this has also helped me not feel guilty for being abused.#taking responsibility for MY actions and holding myself accountable for MY actions has made it easier for me to let go of responsibility#for things that other people say and do including when its shit that hurts me.#i dont feel guilty for things my abusers did even if i did something that triggered it or led to it bc they CHOSE to abuse me.#they didnt have to. but what they did isnt my responsibility. disobedience doesnt require abuse. my responsibility is what came after.#do you see what i mean? how that frees me?#and in doing this and getting better at it its almost like im getting better at seeing whats actually my fault and responsibility#and its making it easier to set boundaries because i see my responsibilities and needs vs how others actions affect me#you see?#yeah...
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
this was a comment on one of my post from a recent live event. it was photos of joyful queer buckaroos celebrating together and proving love is real through creation, community, and a trot of love. most important I AM LITERALLY IN PHOTO AS A REAL FLESH AND BLOOD HUMAN
it got me thinking about how DEEP AND VICIOUS the irony poisoning of these early internet communities goes. the way buds like this cannot fathom someone just being a sincere person unrelated to their OWN old days of cynical posting. it is fascinating, and i will admit, sad too
despite a DECADE of work, countless live events, 350 tinglers written well before large language models were a thing, there are still people who cannot imagine someone like me could exist. it is a strange place to be. not just part of me, but my entire EXISTENCE is often gatekept
it is easy to say ‘well chuck your art IS strange’ but honestly i think it is more than that. magical realism is common. there are stories about dinosaurs and bigfeet and unicorns. this scoundrel reaction is about two unspoken things: my art is neurodivergent, and my art is queer
heres the thing: I WILL BE FINE. what concerns me is not an issue of MYSELF, it is a concern for the other young outsider buckaroos who see comments like this one and think ‘is that what they will say if i express MY unique way? will i be dehumanized like this at every turn?'
i will be honest, i cannot say that WONT happen, but i CAN say this: for as deep as this irony poisoning goes, it is slowly dying. the way i was treated at the start of my career is LIGHTYEARS DIFFERENT from the way i am treated now. there is a massive shift towards sincerity
BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY. to young artists trotting up, the things that i am harassed over and doubted for and made fun of for are NOT tangental to what has made me successful, THEY ARE LITERALLY THE SAME THINGS THAT HAVE MADE ME SUCCESSFUL. YES I AM STRANGE, WHAT OF IT?
the things that you tuck away for fear of a review that says ‘there is a PROBLEM with this art because it has always been done another way’ THOSE ARE YOUR SUPERPOWERS. the gatekeepers want you to tuck those parts of yourself away because THEY TUCKED AWAY THOSE PART OF THEMSELVES
never forget that your unique way is PURE UNFILTERED 100 PERCENT ROCKET FUEL. it will stick out (maybe, if you are lucky, scoundrels will even say that someone like you could never actually be real), but sticking out isnt so bad when you are waving the flag of love.
in fact, when youre waving the flag of love, sticking out is pretty dang cool. what are flags for, after all? LOVE IS REAL BUCKAROOS. thank you for reading, and if you enjoyed this long post then please consider preordering BURY YOUR GAYS.
LETS TROT
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Part 1
[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4]
To not turn into a giant raging asshole hell bent on murdering people and destroying the world after everyone he loved died, Danny had ran from Amity with his chosen vice.
A bottle. That’s right. Even after Jazz’s talks about alcoholism as a poor coping mechanism as a form of self harm, he still chose alcohol. Or maybe that’s why he picked it, because it reminded him of her, right before the booze took the sting of grief off of her memory. He was never really all that good at listening to Jazz.
And now she’s gone, so it’s moot point. Danny really hated Nasty Burger.
Danny made it all the way to Gotham, bottle constantly glued to his hand. It’s better than Vlad’s creep-o-self looming over him all of the time. He bummed out on the streets, fitting into crime alley like a native. Danny learned to pickpocket. Not much, just enough for a bottle when his ran out. He stayed human. At first he tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to be perceived as a meta in a city where Batman notoriously disliked metas. Then, as he sunk deeper, he admitted to himself in a shameful curl of a whisper that it was really because alcohol affected his human side much easier.
Ghosts need an ungodly amount of alcohol to even get slightly buzzed. Danny’s human side? Only one full bottle the shittiest tequila he could find could even hope to be more than buzzed. It sucked.
He’s spent two years being an alcoholic that didn’t actually get that drunk. Technically, underage drinking was a crime. But then again, so was being a vigilante ghost. So, whatever. He does what he can to dull the grief. Mostly, he slept on covered and hidden nooks on top of Crime Alley’s roofs. Gotham city had taken pity on him and cleared her smog clouds when he was awake at night. Stargazing helped, at least. It gave him a little hope. It gave him a little wish to change and better and live like he wants. But then the night ends and when the day comes, Jazz isn’t there. Sam isn’t there. Tucker isn’t there. His mom and dad are not there.
Danny always went back to the bottle, in the end. Not that it did much.
Which was why, when he saw three looming figures over a tiny child, Danny’s saving people thing flared with a vengeance and his surprised ectoplasm burned what little buzz he had achieved by downing most of the bottle away, leaving him stone cold sober and pissed.
Danny sighed, dumping the rest of the nasty tasting liquid out. There’s no point drinking that little.
He approached the trio, who were beating up an actual child. Ancients, he hated Crime Alley sometimes.
“Give me your shit, you little punk!” Asshole 1 decided to say like a typical mugger, raising his leg to kick the curled up kid below. Danny doesn’t let him land the kick, smashing the bottle on the asshole’s head before any of them clocked his presence. He pivots, pushing a bit of that extra strength he normally keeps on a tight leash into his hands, and punched the other two in a quick fashion, knocking them out.
With that taken care of, Danny turned back to the kid who was still curled up. Danny sighed again, the trembles in small shoulders plucking on his heartstrings.
“You okay, kid?”
The kid uncurls, and Danny stared. Holy shit, is he looking into a mirror? Blue eyes, black hair, and tanned skin. Holy shit, he’s even got similar jaws to Danny.
“Huh.”
The kid flinched.
“Y-y’er the drunk,” the kid flinched again, eyes darting to the broken bottle still clenched in Danny’s hand. “I- I ain’t got money, honest. Please-”
Danny blinked down at the kid, brain connecting the dots after so long without actual interaction. He’s panicking and staring at the bottle in Danny’s hand like it’ll kill him. Danny raised the bottle and the kid closed his mouth with a click, terror worming its way into the kid’s eyes.
“I wasn’t going to mug you myself, kid.”
“But- y’er the- the Alley drunk.”
Danny blinked. Did he get a reputation without knowing again? Goddammit.
“I guess. Am I famous or somethin’?”
“Nobody- nobody fucks wit’ ya.”
“I also don’t hurt kids.”
“…”
The kid stared at him dubiously and with a sinking feeling, Danny realized that maybe the kid already had some terrible experiences with a heavy drunken hand. He promptly chucks the bottle further into the alley.
“I drink, yes. But I’m also not the kind of scum that would lay hands on a kid, let alone anyone that didn’t provoke it first.”
“Oh.” The kid uncurled more, looking at Danny warily, more at ease now that the bottle has left the chat.
“Yeah. I’m Danny. Stone cold sober, right now.”
“…”
Danny waited.
“Peters.”
“Okay. Peters, do you wanna take their shit?” Danny pointed a thumb at the knocked out would-be-muggers behind him.
“Y… yeah, sure. What’s my cut?”
“All of it.”
Peters stared.
Danny shrugged and started looting.
"Y'er so fuckin' weird."
----
See, the thing is, Danny hadn't anticipated saving Peters- "'s actually Jason"- would result in having a duckling following him around. The kid, Jason, glared at everyone who even looked at them wrong. But that's not the problem, because Danny could take anyone who took issue with Jason's looks, it's more like there's a child following him around now and Danny doesn't want to be the reason Jason turns into an alcoholic. It's- well, it made him cut down on the drinking. He even got jobs- legitimate jobs that sucks out his his poor ectoplasmic soul.
Why? Because Jason's apparently homeless. While that's something Danny's okay with for himself, he can't ever condone that for an actual child. Jason's walking around in threadbare clothes and thin soled shoes in the middle of Fall, for Ancient's sake.
Danny grumbles as he piled a bunch of clothes into the shopping bag as he checked out. Gotham's Walmart is a different kind of hell, but Danny feels right at home.
Sure, the work might suck out his soul and he might hate being sober, but Jason's face every time he comes home to an actual place to live, warm clothes, and food was worth everything.
#danny phantom#dc x dp#DCxDP#dpxdc#jason todd#batman#crime alley#Danny: im gonna be an alcoholic#also Danny: a child needs help and I don’t drink anymore#Danny phantom’s saving people thing#drunk danny#alcoholic danny#but not for long#danny adopts jason todd#jason todd follows his big brother into being a vigilante#kind of#he becomes robin#but gets rescued by his long suffering brother every once and a while#alley drunk! Danny AU
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
ENCOURAGEMENT.
Daemon Targaryen x little sister!Reader
It's 105 AC. Your brother, King Viserys, wants to throw a feast in honor to announce his wife's pregnancy. You want to attend—if it weren't for the rising doubts about your changing body. But it's good your husband knows a way to ease your worries.
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister), mirror sex, vaginal fingering, praise kink, female and pregnant reader, lactation, lactation kink, nipple play
WORDS: 2.5 K
NOTES: Thank you for betaing this sweet thing, @happilyhertale! 🤍
❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
Frustration brings you to the point you stand completely bare in front of the large mirror that’s been brought into your chambers by the servants, looking at your reflection. To the right hangs a black gown, and to the left a more reddish one. And neither of the two will fit over your swollen curves, you just know by looking at it.
You’ve scared off your ladies-in-waiting a few minutes ago, usually soft-spoken you experiencing an emotional outburst that just called for you to be left alone.
Nearing the six moon mark of your first pregnancy has left your body with scars and marks around your rounded belly and swollen breasts, some even teetering down the insides of your thighs. And yet, when you look at your husband strolling into your martial chambers with not more than a large cloth hanging around his hips, his scarred chest on full display, you can only admire him for wearing them with so much confidence.
But not even your own doubts can stop your eyes from stealing glances, his toned physique managing to put your mind at ease for once. Trailing your eyes over the expanse of his scarred chest down to the dark trail of hair that ends deep below the cloth that conceals most of it. However, it only poorly hides the way his half-hard member prods against the linen with each step he makes towards you.
He makes no secret out of the way his lilac eyes all but devour your body and its curves, although your belly is not yet as swollen as Aemma’s was when she was with Rhaenyra. The pregnancy has made you even more of a woman, and knowing he’s the one responsible for it makes him feel proud but also quite possessive.
“What is it?” he asks, his gravelly voice sending a chill down your spine.
Daemon eventually comes to a stop with his tall frame looming over yours from behind, fingers trailing over your side in an uncharacteristically tender and gentle manner. Every inch of your reflection is devoured by his greedy eyes. “We do not have to attend the feast, you know,” he says. “I wouldn’t dream of depriving myself of the pleasure of spending time with my wife.”
As he bows his head forward to press his lips to your shoulder, the soft strands of his silver hair tickle your skin, making you lean into his embrace and him reaching around you to splay a hand over your swollen belly.
“But I want to go. It’s the feast in honor of the queen announcing her pregnancy, and our brother will be cross with us if we do not attend,” you pout at him. “I just… I just don’t know which dress to choose.”
Daemon, however, knows full well that you’re being less than honest with him about your reluctance to go to the feast, becoming obvious when he starts to trace his fingers over the marks running across the underside of your bump. “That truly is a conundrum,” he says.
Sighing loudly, you try to escape his fingers by leaning further against him. But the friction your rear causes against the cloth is enough to loosen its tie, allowing it to fall to the ground.
The both of you are completely bare now, and he wastes no time in pressing his hard cock snugly into the crevice of your arse, making his desire for you more than clear.
“Let us forget the dresses for now. You know you’ll look ravishing no matter what you wear,” Daemon drawls, running a hand along your side. “Besides, why not allow me to appreciate every inch of you… no dresses involved.”
It sounds far too tempting… if you were in the mood. But with you struggling with your changing body for quite some time now, the thought of unraveling for him discourages you even more. “We do not have time,” you try to protest.
Much to your surprise, your usually insolent husband listens to your words.
“I think you’ll find that we have plenty of time, my love,” he mumbles, taking a step back with his hands raised in defeat. “The time we spend together would be much better than the time spent amongst a bunch of prudes at a feast.”
Not paying a mind to his words, you just nod appreciatively, and bring your attention back to the two gowns still hanging next to the mirror. Perhaps you can make the black one work with the laces tied extra loosely, and you only present at the feast for no longer than two hours.
Daemon stalks around you to stand next to the mirror, shamelessly dragging his eyes over your naked form and watching you inspect one of the dresses.
“Do you not have to dress yourself, husband?” you ask, pinching the fabric of the black dress between your fingers, trying not to pay too much attention to him. But his gaze is intense, burning straight through your skin, and making your body heat up.
You meet his eyes, cocking an eyebrow.
“There is a more important matter for me to tend to,” he objects.
“What are you–” you’re interrupted when your husband grabs the sides of the mirror and hoists it up, bringing it closer to your marital bed.
Turning on your heels, you watch him adjust it and eventually sit down on the bed with both feet planted firmly on the ground. The confusion must be evident on your features, because without a question uttered, Daemon pats his sturdy thigh and parts his legs, silently beckoning you over with a come-hither motion of his fingers.
The sight alone is alluring, his thick cock resting hard and heavy between his thighs, covered in an angry red and aching to be buried inside of you. But wanting to find out what he’s in mind is what brings you closer to him.
You move to climb his lap, wanting to sit astride him like you sit on Silverwing, but Daemon beats you to it. He scoots back slightly and brings his paws to your hips, turning you around. He pulls you back to sit down in the space between his parted legs.
When his hands hook beneath your knees to drape them over his thighs, inevitably exposing yourself to him, you instinctively lean back against him to adjust to the position.
You want to squeeze your thighs together, to hide from him, but his legs stop you from doing so. He brings a hand up to cup your full breast, squeezing lightly and testing the weight and shape of it. They’re full of milk by now, providing for your unborn child, and hard and heavy to the touch.
Pressing his lips to the curve of your shoulder, you tilt your head to the side, not daring to watch your fully exposed reflection in the mirror. You’ve been bare around him the whole time, and he’s fucked you in ways that would bring a blush to certain people’s faces, but something in the current position and your growing insecurities makes you more vulnerable right now.
Daemon adjusts his fingers so that your taut bud pops up between them, and just a bit of pressure is already enough to coax droplets of your milk to spill from it. Your breathing grows heavy, more so because it’s already enough friction to ease some of the tormenting tension.
“I want to see you full and lovely and large, swollen with my seed and carrying my child,” he mutters against your skin. His other hand comes up to cup your chin, pushing your head forwards to all but force you to look at yourself. “And I want you to watch as I worship that precious body of yours.”
The hand on your chin settles at your throat, not squeezing it but tight enough for it to be a warning for you not to move. The other hand releases your breast and trails down to the apex of your legs. It all happens agonizingly slowly, tracing and following every scar that runs along the curve of your bump, until it finally finds your cunt.
As his fingers drag through it, even your husband can’t seem to stop himself from moaning. “You’re weeping for me, my love,” he rasps, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “So beautiful.” Withdrawing his fingers, they’re glistening with your arousal, connected by faint strings of it as he spreads his fingers.
You whimper, and dip your head back far enough for him to capture your lips. The kiss is sloppy, matching the rhythm he sets up as his fingers trace your cunt.
Daemon hums in approval as you pull away from him to look into the mirror, watching the exact moment his deft fingers ease into you. You gasp at the motion, and put all your weight back against him, melting into his embrace with his muscular arms around you.
There’s a pout on your lips when the pressure of his fingers leaves you again, used to spread apart your folds instead. In the reflection you see his dark blown eyes fixed on nothing else than what lies between your legs, his hard cock throbbing against your lower back as you clench around nothing. “Look how beautiful you look all spread out and ready for me, my love.”
Trying to squeeze your thighs shut, his hand comes from your throat to clasp around one, keeping you spread open for him. “Oh, don’t you dare,” he warns, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
With the heel of his hand pressing snugly against your pearl now, you can’t help but whimper as his fingers enter you again. The pace is slow and languid, making clear that neither of you is in a hurry tonight. It’s all about you.
“Seven hells, just look at you,” he coos against the side of your face, tip of his nose nudging your cheek. He clearly enjoys the confidence you slowly start to muster as his praises go straight to your head, coaxing you to rock your hips against his hand. “You truly have no idea of how much I desire you. Always.”
His words bring another wave of crimson to your cheeks, running down your neck and chest. It’s heaving with all the heavy breaths you inhale, and your taut buds have not softened since he touched them. If everything, his words and gestures have coaxed a few beads of milk to ooze from both, running down the curve of your breasts.
Reaching behind you, your hand rests at the back of his head, entangling into his long, silver hair. “Daemon–” you whimper, but he’s quick to silence you.
“Shush now,” he rasps. “Just enjoy and observe.”
And you certainly do, watching his fingers pump in and out of you as if it’s the most enthralling thing you’ve ever seen.
When he’s sure you’ll keep your legs spread for him, he brings his hand to your full breast again, groping and squeezing it, pinching the little bud to tease even more milk to spill from it.
It’s so much coming together at once. His praise goes straight to your head, making it hazy and longing for more, while liquid fire courses through your veins, ignited by the skilled ministrations of his fingers.
Daemon seems to sense your impending peak, and is determined to work you toward the sweet relief you so desperately crave.
The pace of his fingers increases now, fingers repeatedly brushing the sweet spot inside of you that makes your vision blurry. Pleasure soars through your body, and eventually is enough to snap the familiar knot inside of your belly. And that’s also the moment you can’t watch yourself any longer. The pleasure grows to the point you have to close your eyes to be able to thoroughly enjoy it. But your husband doesn’t seem to mind.
“There you go,” he coos, not slowing down the pace of his hands. “Such a good girl.”
Your walls convulse all over Daemon’s fingers, and with you releasing the sweetest and most desperate sounds your husband has heard in a while, he’s sure he could’ve peaked on spot, more so with the vice-like grip you have on his long hair.
His hand works you through the waves of euphoria, just slightly slowing down, and while your mind doesn’t process some of the praises he mumbles against your skin, your body does; with a renewed wave of arousal dripping out of your cunt.
It’s surprising that the pleasure doesn’t get replaced by overstimulation, especially with just how little time he gives you to recover until he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a harsher pace again.
“Gods be good,” you whimper, tipping your head back against his shoulder. Your hand releases his hair and instead you grab his forearm with both, clinging onto it for dear life.
“One more for me, you’re doing so good.”
You have barely time to process the first peak and its repercussions when the second washes over you in an ambush, striking you like lightning. It’s not as intense as the first, but prolonged with his other hand now frantically rubbing your pearl.
“Shh, just let it happen,” he purrs, pressing sloppy kisses to your cheek as you struggle against him.
It takes just a few more pumps of his hand until the pleasure subsides, only leaving a wave of bliss in its wake. Daemon’s hands both stop their ministrations, and you finally feel as though you’re able to breathe again.
As you open your eyes, you see him lick the remnants of your arousal off his fingers, before they tease your buds again, gathering some of your milk to lick off of them as well.
Whimpering and whining at the touch, you just slowly catch your breath. He soothes you by snaking both arms around your form, cupping your swollen belly, and presses gentle kisses to the side of your face.
“You’re an absolute vision in this state, and I do not wish for you to ever doubt that,” he mutters against your skin. “You look more desirable carrying my child, than any other woman does in their most provocative dress.”
Releasing a soft chuckle, you turn your head and capture his lips with yours. A chaste peck is not what he has anticipated, but he’s still happy that he was able to lift your spirits.
“Kirimvose, ñuha jorrāelagon,” you whisper. “Care to help me with the black dress?” Thank you, my love.
“Oh, I will,” Daemon says with a teasing lilt in his voice. He grabs you by the waist and carefully hoists you up, but when he lies you down on your back, you know you won’t be getting into the dress so soon. “But I think I need just a little more time to get fully into the spirit of the occasion.”
The moment he climbs on the bed to kiss his way over your marks and curves, you squeal and squirm, entangling your hands into his hair again.
Viserys can never be angry with you two for long anyway.
#house of the dragon#hotd#daemon fanfic#daemon targaryen#daemon x reader#hotd daemon#daemon smut#daemon fic#daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen imagine#daemon targaryen smut#prince daemon targaryen#daemon targeryen x reader#daemon targaryen x you#daemon targaryen fanfic#hotd fanfic#hotd x reader#hotd daemon targaryen#hotd x y/n#hotd x you#hotd imagine#hotd smut#hotd fic#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon daemon#house of the dragon imagine#house of the dragon fic
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
BRO?$!&?& OAAA I SAW YOU WERE OPEN TO ADAM REQUESTS AND OHHH. MY SNAP.
i am in desperate need. of adam smut.
NOW, WOULD IT BE OKAY FOR ME TO ASK FOR ADAM SMUT WITH A SUBMISSIVE FEMALE SINNER READER WHO IS:
usually shy nervous as fuck but absolutely watches him when he thinks he isn't looking
likes to compliment him in general (at the most random times too, despite the dickmaster being the FUCKING WORST, and she would get that but he IS kinda fine so)
touch-starved, incredibly easy to fluster and tease (bro has a thing for his voices and looks too, one word or look and she'd be on her knees)
pretty insecure in general (and is a sucker for being praised in bed)
I'd also specifically like to hear what he would say to the reader ESPECIALLY THAT IDFK AAA GO CRAZY
Adam’s Sinner
Part 1/3 Part 2
A/N: I was so fucking happy to get a request you don’t even understand. Anyway here it is, I hope I did it justice and you enjoy it!
Warnings: Smut
Adam had been aware of (Name) for about ten years. They met during the extermination, Adam cornering her in an alley. Something compelled him to spare her, and yes he realized what a hypocrite that made him. Poor Vaggie. “Fucking run, bitch.” She bolted. Adam looked around to make sure no one had seen.
The next year, Adam noticed (Name) watching him, hiding behind corners and in shadows. She did this during every extermination for about five years before Adam decided during one extermination to confront her.
(Name) peered around the corner of the dark alley she was hiding in, watching Adam kill a fellow sinner. It should disgust her, but ever since he spared her life she had a strange sort of attraction towards him. Adam looked up and (Name) ducked back behind the wall. When she peered out again, Adam was nowhere to be seen.
“What’s up, sugar tits?”
(Name) yelped, jumping when Adam appeared behind her. He put his hands on the wall on either side of her head, effectively caging her in. (Name) could feel her face heating up. Adam seemed to find it amusing. “Flustered?” (Name) swallowed.
“You know I’ve seen you watching me for the last few exterminations. What’s up with that, hm?”
(Name) had no answer.
“What’s your name?” Adam asked.
“(Name),” she answered quietly. Adam had to bend down to hear her. His proximity made her blush worse, and he snickered. “I think I figured out why. No surprise really, of course you’d want a piece of the first man in existence. I’m the fucking Dickmaster.”
He let her go shortly after their exchange, but confronted her again the next year. As years passed, Adam would spare thirty minutes every extermination to talk to (Name). He found himself becoming fond of the sinner. Her story of how she ended up in hell was interesting, and it definitely helped that she stroked his ego with compliments.
Adam found himself looking forward to seeing (Name) even more than he looked forward to the exterminations. He was grateful Lute hadn’t caught on.
A few years later, and Adam noticed (Name) wasn’t following him as she normally would. So he sought her out. She’d told him a few years ago where she lived, so that was the first place Adam checked. Sure enough, he found her there.
“Sup.”
(Name) jumped. “Adam!”
“What the fuck, babe, not interested in seeing me this year?” Adam placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt, although while he’d never admit it, it actually did hurt him.
“We can’t see each other anymore,” (Name) announced, looking away.
“Bitch why?”
“Because one of these days we’re going to get caught. I know what happened to Vaggie. What would happen if the exterminators found out their leader was socializing with a sinner?”
“You’re not like the other sinners,” Adam argued. “I’d show them that.”
“How?”
Adam was quiet.
“Exactly. And to be honest, I can’t take the emotional torture anymore.”
“The fuck are you on about, ‘emotional torture’? Come on babe-”
“Adam no. I can’t let myself get any closer to you. We only see each other once a year and I got attached, and dealing with only seeing you once a year has gotten too painful.”
Adam was rather taken aback by the confession. He felt the same way but had been gaslighting himself to believe he didn’t. For once in his life, Adam couldn’t find anything to say. He decided the best course was the course of action rather than talking.
He leaned down and abruptly pressed his lips to (Name)’s. Her eyes widened and her body stiffened. When Adam received no response on her end, he pulled back, worried he’d fucked up. She stared up at him with this look on her face that Adam couldn’t place. He didn’t know if it was positive or negative.
“Again,” she finally spoke in a small voice. A smirk stretched across Adam’s face, and he bent down once more to press his lips to hers. She kissed him back this time, almost desperately, and Adam’s arms wrapped around her waist. She shuddered and he pulled back.
“Are you okay?” No teasing or cursing.
“Yeah I just… I haven’t had anyone touch me like this in a long time.”
Adam couldn’t say the same, but this was the first time in a long time emotions had been involved. He kissed her again and snuck his tongue into her mouth as she kissed back. “I want to fuck you,” Adam mumbled against her lips. “Okay.”
Adam pushed her down on her bed, crawling on top of her. He reconnected their lips and slid a hand under her shirt. “Damn,” he commented when his wandering hand reached her chest. “Nice rack.” (Name) rolled her eyes. Adam began kissing down her neck, sucking and biting to leave his mark. (Name) moaned and grabbed onto his horns.
Adam pulled back to shed his robe, and (Name) yanked her shirt over her head. Now that Adam actually had eyes on her chest, he stared for a moment. “So pretty~” he cooed. (Name) blushed and swallowed.
“Oh~” Adam realized. “You like that, don’t you? You like being praised?”
(Name) looked away. Adam grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, babe, it’s cute.” He returned to her neck, kissing down and down, her shoulder, her collarbone. Then he slid down slightly to press his face between her breasts. He laid more kisses on her chest before taking a nipple into his mouth.
Sensitive, (Name) arched her back and whimpered. “I like that noise,” Adam said, moving to the other breast. “Make it again.” He sucked and she whimpered.
Adam was aware he had a short window of time to make this work, so he pulled back and pulled down (Name)’s pants and panties in one swift motion. (Name) got embarrassed being so exposed, so Adam quickly shed his own pants and boxers to level the playing field.
He noticed (Name) staring at his dick and smirked. He took it in his hand, pumping it a few times for show. “You like what you see, baby? Of course you do. Can’t beat the original dick.”
He crawled on top of her again, nudging her thighs apart with his knee to settle between them. He reconnected their lips while his hand traveled down to the place she wanted it the most. “So wet for me, good girl,” Adam teased. Flustered, (Name) shut him up with another kiss.
They made out while Adam experimentally slid one slender finger into her. Met with no resistance, he added another one, and began languidly pumping them in and out. (Name) was shaking. Eager to hurry this along, Adam added another finger. Three stretched her out and she moaned against his lips at the sensation. It made Adam’s dick throb.
He fingered her, with his thumb circling her clit, until he decided she was well enough prepared, pulling his hand away. (Name) whined at the loss but was quickly shut up by Adam grabbing her legs and throwing them over his shoulders. She gasped. Adam lined himself up with her entrance and sunk in slowly, giving her time to adjust. She squirmed, his girth proving to be a little painful to take.
Adam reached between them to give her clit attention, and that loosened her up right away. He bottomed out with a groan, closing his eyes. “Fuck, babe, you’re so tight.” Adam kissed her again, basically bending her in half as he began thrusting. He swallowed her whimpers and moans while his pace picked up in speed and intensity.
He had tried to be slow and gentle, he really had.
Adam set a brutal pace, and (Name) clawed at his back as he pounded into her. “Fuck, yeah, you’re so good for me, tits. Such a good girl, all mine,” Adam talked as he fucked her, and his every word brought (Name) closer to the edge. “You feel so fucking good.”
Adam’s thrusts were getting sloppy as he neared his own climax. “Cum for me,” he murmured. “Fucking cum for me, baby.” (Name) did, her back arching off the bed, her head thrown back and mouth open in slack pleasure. Her tightening around him pushed Adam over the edge, and he buried himself as deep as he could, cumming inside her.
They both panted, holding onto one another as they came down from their highs. Adam pulled out and rolled off of (Name), collapsing onto the bed next to her. He pulled her into his chest and covered her with one of his wings, nuzzling his face into her hair.
“I’ll find a way to see each other more,” he muttered. “I’ll figure something out.” (Name) buried her face in his chest. “Promise?” Her voice was muffled.
“Promise.”
#hazbin adam#adam x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin angel dust#hazbin charlie#hazbin husk#hazbin vaggie#hazbin vox#x reader#hazbin lute#hazbin hotel
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
spoilers for 2.1 !!!!!!!
aventurine rant, please keep in my mind that these are my own thoughts and interpretations. im extremely sleep deprived lol so im sorry if i got anything wrong
something thats been on my mind since yesterday are these lines.
from the start to me, it was very clear aventurine had self esteem/worth issues because of how he treats his own life, but the line that says “the other hand is below the table, clutching your chips for dear life” stuck out to me.
i always assumed aventurine was so incredibly confident in his luck but in reality he is afraid. he’s terrified that he’ll lose. it’s an act. he convinces himself, he fools himself, he forces himself to act like he’s confident he’ll win, when in reality even if he does win, he’s still clutching his chips under the table for dear life because of how terrified he is of losing.
that really messed with me to be honest. i feel tricked and what’s ironic is that he tricks his opponents into thinking he’s confident, and he also tricked ME the player but really, this made my heart break in two because i had absolutely no clue up until now.
so why does he act this way
all throughout his life, aventurine has had his pride stripped away. just try to imagine being in his shoes. i myself do not think i could deal with the situations he was put in. i cannot stress this enough, aventurine has a mark on his neck that screams to him that he has once belonged to someone. he has had his pride stripped away from him countless times. but it’s ironic because aventurine is introduced as a very prideful and flashy man. you start to realize the front aventurine puts on is his own way of protecting himself. it’s how he’s able to live basically. i wanna go into more detail but i will later.
as it was said before, aventurine is an uptight person who worries. he is extremely afraid of losing and he has a massive inferiority complex. aventurine may seem like a go lucky person on the outside, but in actuality he is not. he is not happy. he has no self worth, he believes he has nothing to live for, and he has no problem with throwing his life away. aventurine believes the only good thing he brings to the table is his luck.
but this brings me to my next point.
aventurine may not realize it, but he is so much more than his luck. he has so many good qualities and he doesn’t seem to realize it. even if some of it may be an act, he’s still able to pull it off. he’s still an intelligent business man who is both charming and cunning EVEN if it may be an act, those are still amazing qualities to have in his line of work.
but more importantly, aventurine chose to live. despite witnessing his family die, being a slave, and tortured, he chose to live. he chooses to. i cannot stress this enough. this man has gone through hell and back. he truly has had an incredibly difficult life to the point where my heart hurts so so badly for him. he made the decision to stay alive.
that says more than enough about his character.
and last but not least, aventurine wants one thing, and that is to be with his family. he’s witnessed horrible things in his life that no one should ever go through. he lost everyone close to him, he lost his people. he has nothing to live for and he values his life so little to the point where he has no problem with dying. the only real thing that he wants is just to see his family.
and he will one day, but in the meantime, i genuinely hope this man can find a reason to live, and ratio already gave him one just by that note. i just truly wish aventurine happiness while he lives the rest of his life.
i guess this is a topic that really hits me hard because i know all too well that choosing to live life isn’t easy sometimes and i just love aventurine.
let’s all appreciate how truly amazing his character is.
887 notes
·
View notes
Text
I ran across some click-baity thing about rich people who have economy cars earlier today and I’m thinking about it. So.
Apparently Bezos has a Honda Accord. He says it keeps him humble.
Let’s be honest here. One slightly less expensive car isn’t enough. You need more humble, my guy.
Try humbling yourself with a little $500 ‘92 Cavalier that sounds like a lawnmower. Then maybe you’ll understand.
It might also work if he was a guy who used said car. We all know he doesn’t.
#taks speaks#they made it sound like he had some old accord or something#when i damn well know it's probably a recent model and reliable car#lets be honest here. the man probably only has that car bc he uses a jet 90% of the time#or ya know. that yacht#he doesn't need a car with all that so obviously he's not going to upgrade to some million dollar lambo or whatev#'i drive an accord to keep myself humble' you sound like a moron dude#we all know you haven't driven since you got a jet and a big ass boat#rich people annoy me and the fact that this was big enough to make a whole fucking thing about it annoys me more#it's like me saying i bought a 1500$ car instead of the 8000 one and that makes me humble#when in reality it was just a choice that kept me from making payments on it#not some big thing like 'yeah i could afford it but im better than that'
0 notes
Text
In which Astarion's confession doesn't go as planned
WARNINGS: Angst, normal warnings for talk of Astarion's backstory ie sexual abuse and talk.
Astarion wanted to be honest with you. You deserved honesty. You were wonderful and you deserved something real. He wanted things between you two to be real. But when he went to tell you all this, he'd cut himself off before he could get to that part. The hurt on your face had made the words die in his throat. Tears welled in your eyes and he could only watch in horrified silence as the realization that he had used you set in.
"I am so sorry," was all he could get out.
You let out a shaky sigh and turned your gaze to your feet, "I'm sorry as well that I made you feel like you had to put yourself through that for my protection. I shouldn't have been so bold in my desires for you. You've always been more than that to me and you owe me nothing."
Astarion wanted to vomit at hearing you blame yourself for his betrayal. Sure, your eyes had practically been hearts upon first glance at him and that had made it easy for him to choose you as his target, but that wasn't your fault. You'd had a crush and he'd used it against you.
"Tav, I," he reached out for you but you flinched away from him.
His hand hung in the air.
"It's ok Astarion. I'll be ok. I just need to be alone right now, if you want to feed from me once I fall asleep feel free. I still just want you to be safe and happy," you still wouldn't meet his eyes and that hurt the most. The fact that you didn't trust him to see your tears anymore.
He tried to speak again but you finally met his gaze and the pain he saw in it knocked the wind out of him.
"Thank you for being honest with me, please don't think this means I want you out of the camp. Please stay with us, I promise to get over myself and not bother you anymore with my feelings," you said.
Your voice was steady and you thanked whatever god you could think of for it. You couldn't let Astarion leave just because you were an idiot who couldn't control their romantic desires for him.
Astarion was in awe of your selflessness. He'd just broken your heart and all you said was that you hoped he stayed with the group. You should have screamed at him, slapped him even, gods knew he deserved it. But this, this kindness, was something he didn't deserve. He didn't deserve you. So he held the words he'd rehearsed over and over back. I want us to be real. You deserved real with someone better. Someone who wouldn't hurt you like this.
You'd turned away then and gone off somewhere in the forest. When Karlach had asked him he'd just said you needed some time alone. You didn't come back all night. Astarion took watch and spent the entire night staring into the fire wanting to burn himself alive. The shame was killing him. This wasn't something he'd done because Cazador had ordered it, he'd manipulated you over and over of his own free will. He'd listened as you opened up to him about your own issues with intimacy and past traumas from awful partners. He'd made you feel safe and loved with him, all just so you'd protect him. You hadn't deserved that. No one truly did.
The next morning you were back at camp cooking breakfast as it was your turn. Ever the dutiful leader. You were much quieter than usual and everyone glared at him for it. You two hadn't been exactly subtle about your budding romance and now you could barely look at him.
After giving everyone their food, you'd excused yourself back to your tent with a mumble about not sleeping well. It was an obvious fact due to the major bags under your eyes.
"What did you do?" Lae'zel spat with her fork pointed menacingly at him.
He tried to avoid everyone's gaze, especially the hope and glee that filled Gale's. It was also no secret the wizard had a crush on you and the idea of him finding pleasure in the demise of your relationship made all the goodwill the two had built up dissipate immediately. The girls were just glaring at him with friendly protectiveness but he still knew any of them would take the opportunity to jump your bones.
He seethed under it all, "We aren't together anymore and that's all the rest of you need to know." Nosy bastards.
"So you broke up with her," Halsin chimed in without taking his eyes off his breakfast like the calm annoying asshole he was, "her eyes were filled with too much passion for you for it have been her to break things off."
That instantly cooled Astarion's anger and want to lash out. Did you really look at him with love so obvious? All your other companions just nodded along to the druid's statement.
I hadn't wanted to break up with her, I'm just not ready for . . . whatever this all is.
Karlach gasped dramatically and he jumped up at the realization that they had all heard his thought.
"Get out of my head you bastards. Who I have in and out of my bed is no one's business but mine. Tav and I had our fun but now its run its course," Astarion spat at them all before stalking off into his tent.
The rest of your companions gave each other a knowing look.
"I just want them both to be happy!" Karlach cried.
Gale shook his head, "Well maybe they will be happier apart."
They all glared at him knowing the ulterior motives he had behind the statement.
You were trying your hardest to just be normal. Everyone had given you sidelong glances as you attempted to just pack up camp and move on with your adventure, but no one pushed you to talk. Astarion hadn't left his tent the whole time which had made it slightly easier to ignore the change in your relationship. But now, he was still inside it while everyone else was basically ready to go.
You stood outside his tent flap regretting becoming the de-facto leader of this group because it meant that it was left to you to get his ass out. Before his prissiness had been annoying but amusing. Now you were just annoyed since it meant you had to face your ex not even a full 24 hours after he'd told you in no uncertain terms that your whole relationship was just a lie.
It wasn't the first time you'd been used and discarded but it'd hurt more. It'd hurt because it wasn't his fault. All Astarion had known for 200 years was torture and manipulation, of course he'd perpetuate that cycle. You should have seen it. Why would Astarion ever want you anyway?
You took a deep breath in an attempt hold back the tears and tried to muster up the courage to knock on his tent post. But he scrambled to the entrance before you got the chance.
Astarion opened up his flap the second he realized you were standing outside his tent with a pathetic urgency and hope. He'd been meditating and had been too distracted to be fully aware of his surroundings. His chest squeezed at the knowledge you'd been reluctant to enter his tent. You were still welcome and wanted in his space anytime.
You raised your brows at him clumsily tripping over himself.
"H-hello Tav, what brings you over?" Astarion tried to save his dignity by standing up straight but the stuttering didn't help.
You frowned, face filled with concern at him being so off-kilter, "I just came over to let you know we are ready to head out whenever you are. Let me know if you need anything."
You internally kicked yourself for seeming like such a partner. You should have said any of you would help. No wonder he felt so obligated to play into your affections, you couldn't even turn it off when he'd explicitly told you he didn't want it.
Astarion could see you getting in your head about everything you said. He wanted to reach out and wipe away the crease in your brow and kiss the tip of your nose like he would've done just yesterday. But today it wasn't his place. He'd thrown that away.
Instead he just cleared his throat and said, "Thank you my dear. I'll get my ass in line quickly."
He tried to smile but it didn't reach his eyes. You flinched at the term of endearment, nodding and quickly turning away before you could truly react to it in front of him.
Astarion watched you walk away, only turning to pack up his things once you'd gone out into the forest yet again.
The continuous trek to Baldur's Gate was even worse now that you didn't have a cute rogue in your ear entertaining you. Instead now you had a know-it-all wizard practically breathing down your neck.
You'd known Gale had a crush on you but it'd never felt real. You hadn't even considered him before Astarion joined your group because it felt like you were just a stand in for Mystra. Gale didn't really want you, he wanted a partner and was trying to force you to fit his ideal version of that.
But then again, maybe you weren't the best judge of these things. Everything had felt real with Astarion. Even when he dissociated during intimacy, you'd felt able to pull him out of it and remind him that he could refuse you. He'd made you feel loved and wanted, but now you knew all of it had been a farce.
Gods he was a good actor and you were a fool.
Astarion seethed behind you as Gale pathetically vied for your attention. Gale barely even knew you yet he'd convinced himself he loved you. It made Astarion sick. Astarion had actually taken the time to speak with you, making him feel more justified in his own pining. Guilt stabbed him again as he remembered that he'd taken all the knowledge he'd learned of you to twist the knife further into your back. Even though his intentions had been nefarious, the end result of all his time spent with you left him in the same place as the wizard. Hopelessly in love with you.
At lease his love was based in reality though. That still made him better than Gale.
"Gale, leave our leader be. Her mind is already too clouded with her unrequited feelings for the vampire spawn," Laezel spat at the oaf. It made Astarion like her both more and less at the same time.
Gale turned around to glare at her while you kept your eyes forward to avoid seeing said vampire spawn's reaction.
Your shoulders slumped and you sighed exasperated, "Thank you Laezel for your tact and care when it comes to personal matters."
Everyone was now looking at Astarion, everyone but the one person he desperately wanted to as your head never even turned.
He scoffed and kept moving forward. That was all he could do. Speaking would have betrayed too much.
The rest of your day went by without a hitch or another awkward comment. You came upon an abandoned town with not much left to loot, but with intact houses that would provide protection for a night.
You all agreed to camp out there for the night to recharge before the next inevitable fight you'd encounter. It was your turn to gather firewood, a fact that made Astarion nervous as none of you had fully scoped out the surrounding forests. Everyone else had tasks or their own selfish reason for not volunteering to go with you, so it was left to him. He wanted to feel burdened or annoyed but there was excitement at being alone with you again flowing through him where blood would be.
It'd only been a day since your disastrous conversation and yet he felt the hole your absence left as if it'd been centuries. He was pathetic.
He came up behind you loudly so as not to sneak up on you just as you were about to head out.
"I suppose it goes without saying that you need a companion to explore the woods," He began trying to seem put out but the moment your gaze fixed on him his voice dropped and he finished quietly, "please let me accompany you."
Your brow furrowed again and it drove Astarion crazy. He wanted to comfort you when that look crossed your face, not be the cause of it.
"I appreciate the offer, but please don't feel like you have to," your voice was strained as you tried to give him an out.
"I want to."
You sighed obviously not believing him but not having an argument in you, "Ok."
With that, you turned and headed out without glancing back him. He kept close, closer than necessary but not as close as he wanted to be. It only took him a couple minutes of silence to break. As soon as you were out of ear shot of the group, he grabbed your elbow to get your attention.
You stopped abruptly and spun directly into his chest. His arms came up to catch you as you stumbled, and for a moment you relaxed into his embrace. But then your mind caught up and you pulled away.
"Sorry," You blushed and went to turn back to your task.
"Tav we need to talk," His voice was shakier than he wanted, but he couldn't hold himself back. He was going to be selfish despite his best efforts.
Your gaze snapped to him, panic coloring your features.
"Please don't leave the group, I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable," You spat out quickly, desperately.
Astarion hated hearing you beg for him in this way, as if you did anything wrong and didn't deserve his companionship. It was something he could never wrap his head around.
"Tav, no I wanted to talk about our conversation yesterday. I didn't leave it exactly where I wanted. There was more I had to say but I couldn't get it out after hurting you the way I did."
There was that damn crinkle in between your brows again. He was resigning to spend the rest of his life ensuring you never worried again. Granted you would want him around for the rest of his life.
"I also didn't say everything I wanted to," you began with a voice soaked in guilt, "I know I already apologized but I cannot express enough through words or actions how sorry I am I made you force yourself to sleep with me. I'm not an idiot and I knew you wouldn't have looked twice at me unless there was something in it for you. I'm sorry I let my personal feelings cloud my better judgement. It was obvious you were playing me and seducing me not out of want or desire, but I just wanted to believe you returned my feelings."
You took a deep breath after your word vomit, then opened your mouth to continue but he cut you off with a yell.
"I took advantage of your affections, and you beg me for forgiveness? I have to contradict you my love because you are in fact an idiot. You did nothing wrong," he was exasperated with your self-flagellation, "I'm not made of glass! I wanted to fuck you and I enjoyed it too! Which is the entire problem! As I said, I had a nice simple plan but you had to go and fuck it up by not only being a good lay but also the first person I've ever truly cared about! And how could you assume I would never want you! It's absurd! Especially when you are all I have wanted since our first meeting in that damned bush! You don't get to put words in my mouth and assign feelings to me that aren't mine. I didn't manipulate or sleep with you because you eyed me up everyday, I did it because I wanted your protection and I saw an easy way to get it."
He huffed, tired from his emotional outburst but added one last thing, "I'm the villain here. Not you. It was never you."
You were stunned, every word he said floating around in your brain but latching onto one vital thing, "Wait you enjoyed the sex we had?"
Astarion huffed again and threw his arms up, ever the dramatic one, "Of course I enjoyed the sex we had! You're a vision, and you're so much more than that. It was the first time I'd ever truly felt connected with someone."
"I, I just felt so awful thinking that it hadn't been what you wanted but what you'd forced yourself to do," tears were falling at the realization that you hadn't hurt him in that way.
Astarion realized what had really been eating away at you, he hadn't wanted you to ever feel guilty on his behalf. The fact that you did warmed him in an unnamable way.
"Our time together meant everything to me and I just couldn't bear that it had been at the expense of your suffering," you sighed.
Astarion scoffed, "Being with you never caused me suffering. Except, well, the guilt that ate away at me for manipulating your feelings."
You tried to interrupt him but he held up his finger.
"Ah ah ah, love. You don't get to say that I wasn't. I was. I saw your attraction to me and it made you an easy target. I chose to seduce you and manipulate you for my own game. My plan was simple. It was easy, instinctual. 200 years of habit kicked in. So imagine how stupid I felt when I genuinely started to feel something for you."
That seemed to knock some sense into you. Relief overwhelmed you at the knowledge that he returned your feelings.
Seeing the relief and pure love in your eyes for him made Astarion's brain go haywire. He immediately cupped your face in his hands and pulled your mouth to his in a way that was more aggressive than he ever wanted to be with you. He devoured your mouth. He always tried to be delicate with you even when he was still telling himself you were just a means to an end, but in this moment he couldn't hold back his own passion for you. The feeling terrified him but the feel of your body kept him grounded.
Finally you pulled away for air and he cursed your human dependencies. But it gave him a moment to remember what else he had wanted to say.
"You deserve something real, I want us to be real. I just, don't know what that looks like. I've never been with someone who I wasn't going to bring back to my master for their gruesome death and I know things are different with us. I will never let him touch you, but it still all feels tainted," He breathed the words onto you face, not being able to bear another moment without your touch. One day was long enough.
You rubbed soothing circles onto his lower back where your arms had wrapped around him during your embrace.
There was nothing but devotion and pure love in your eyes as you gazed up at him, understanding the part he couldn't voice out loud and never pushing him beyond his limits.
"That's ok, we can take this as slow as you need if you even want to change it all. I meant it when I said that you are so much more to me than sex. I'm content to just be in your company," you breathed back at him still recovering from the kissing.
He loved leaving you breathless.
He then groaned dramatically and buried his face in the crook of your neck as he mumbled, "But I do so want to make Gale listen to me ravish you all night."
You laughed loud and boisterous, Astarion's favorite laugh of yours that was only his to hear unencumbered by your normal reservations to be quieter around others. He kissed under your jaw but wretched himself away.
"I want to work up to us being intimate together again. I want you so desperately it quite literally hurts, but I am just not there yet. Please don't give up on me," His voice faltered at the end as he met your eyes and saw tears once again filling them.
This time though you let him see them and he let you see him in all his damaged glory.
You just kissed him hoping to convey into it all that you felt. You were never giving up on him again.
Author's Note: Alright ladies let's fucking go, new hyper fixation on a white haired man unlocked! I may write more for Astarion (or Gale hehe) if people want. I haven't played the game myself bc my pc sucks and is only built for rune factory and stardew valley so I'm sorry if this isn't fully game accurate I've only seen playthroughs. As for DND lore wise, I am going to be taking liberties bc it's MY maladaptive daydream and I'll do what I want!
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
from this list of prompts!
“here comes the airplane!” “i can feed myself.” “too bad.”
“what... are you trying to do?” sae shoots you the look of a raised eyebrow and lips twisted in confusion, eyeing the spoonful of porridge in your hand and the mischievous smile he’s come to adore.
currently he sits on his bed, tucked in all the fluffliest and warmest blankets you could find in his apartment. which weren’t a lot, so he’s also wrapped in his own hoodies. you even made a comment about him looking like deflated baymax — he had glared at you, you laughed even more.
sae doesn’t get sick a lot, and when he does, he’d most likely brush it off as normal cold that would go away on its own or whatever, which is also the reason behind his bad habit of never telling you about the times he is sick.
although you find out anyway, and sae guesses it’s because his manager is working double ways. well, he doesn’t really mind it either. because each time it leads to our current situation — which, although he never has and never will admit — is something he always looks forward to. and if he's being honest, he wouldn’t mind getting sick on purpose for the very reason.
“isn’t it obvious? I’m trying to handfeed you.” you say, in a manner of declaring an obvious fact.
“no, don’t do that.” he deadpans. ( he’s hiding his smile. )
“here comes the airplane!” you ignore him, slowly bringing the spoonful towards him.
“i can feed myself.” although he makes no visible effort to back away, he scrunches his nose. his eye travel to the porridge, then to you and back to the spoonful. he sighs.
“too bad,” you say, and sae isn’t given much choice but to oblige, “i’m gonna do it anyway.”
of course you will.
he rolls his eyes, you peer down at him expectantly, “well??”
“...well what?” his cheeks are puffed out like a hamster. but you would never say that out loud and risk your chances of seeing him like this again. you have to bite back a laugh. although you can’t resist the smile tugging at your lips.
“is it any good?” your smile grows.
“it’s... porridge. is it ever good?” he says dryly.
“yeah, but I’m handfeeding you! doesn’t being taken care of this way by the love of your life sway your heart?” you gasp dramatically, and sae lets out a weak chuckle.
“meh,” he laughs at the way your face drops from grinning like an excited child to that of a serious middle aged man. ( :D to :| )
“fine. then, enjoy it yourself.” you try to hand him the bowl, but he holds down your hands instead.
sae looks at you with a precise gaze, keeping yours on him. it’s serious and unwavering, although to a stark contrast to his cheeks and mouth. both sweetly pouted like that of a child’s. then he parts his lips, slightly so, mirroring your expectant expression from before.
“you’re really going to leave the love of your life by himself when he’s sick?” his eyes shine. a playful chuckle leaves his lips when you roll your eyes.
it’s the side effects of the medicines you’ve been forcing him to take. that must be it. but for now, sae can’t bring himself to give half a damn.
“well, i thought the love of my life didn’t need me to take care of him.” your thumb traces the corner of his mouth, sae bites it playfully. he kisses it just seconds later when you frown.
“i’m actually so sick i could die right now.” he laughs. side effects of the medicines, really.
you roll your eyes at him, bringing the spoonful to him again. “how’s the porridge now?”
“it’s meh,” he says again, ignoring the self assured smirk you wear, “but i’ll work with it.”
“i thought you could feed yourself?” you bring another spoonful to his lips, and he obliges instantly this time.
“i am the love of your life. it’s the least you could do.”
you bite back a laugh at that, sae is a little more unguarded than usual when he’s sick. it’s cute.
“baby”
“yes?”
“baby as in you’re a baby. it’s derogatory.”
it’s his turn to roll his eyes, “yeah, yeah.” he parts his lips once again.
© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]
@luvether saw ur answer on my alt bae here u go I’m dumping my bllk drafts just for u :3
@kyoghurts daddy’s home
#❀˖° ─ hana writes.#haha 🧍♀️#posting this w/o an explanation after disappearing for more than half a year#itoshi sae i hate you (affectionate)#itoshi sae x reader#itoshi sae x you#sae drabble#sae x reader fluff#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi x you#blue lock x reader#blue locl x you#blue lock fluff#bllk x reader#bllk fluff#bllk x you
705 notes
·
View notes
Text
Did Laios have a plan
... when he made his deal with the Lion? How much of it was intentional and how much of it was out of his control?
Well. If I'm being honest I don't really want to try and provide a definitive answer to that question, because I think the ambiguity is, itself, part of the story. I've gone back and forth a few times myself, and I don't think either category - "fully intentional" or "fully coincidence" - is entirely true.
That being said, I would like to point out a few things that I've seen taken for granted as true. Things that, imo, are much more about the character's perspective, or about what the character WANTS people to think (well, that's really just the Winged Lion).
Consider this not exactly an argument for "Laios masterminded everything from the start and saved the world with his cunning," but more... "Laios considered what he was doing more than people give him credit for." Make sense?
Alright then, let's go:
So to start with, I want to show every time (that I could find, at least) that the question of 'does Laios have a plan' gets brought up. This is specifically after his Ultimate Monster Form is revealed, to be clear - the question isn't about if he has a plan in general, it is if he has/had a plan when he made this specific deal with the Lion.
Here they are:
-
-
You'll notice, in all of these instances, there never really is an answer given to the question. Either because there is no way to get one, or, with Kabru at the end there, because he explicitly doesn't let Laios answer. There's even a bit of an arc here: we start with a sort of desperate 'I've mostly given up but maybe this isn't as bad as it looks,' then get a more optimistic 'maybe we really are saved,' and finally end on 'it all worked out in the end, so we maybe don't need to know.'
But, as much as there is some genuine growth in Kabru's 'accept the outcome, rather than dissecting the truth,' I also think it says a lot more about him than about Laios. Kabru is the one trying to handle his questions and his uncertainty - as he said, he wants to confirm his judgement of character. He wants to feel like he had control over things.
And he lets that go! But he also doesn't actually get the truth, either, and his implied assumption here (that Laios, the wide-eyed monster-lover, probably just followed his desires), still relies on his judgements and assumptions about Laios.
But okay, these bits are all focused on the characters theorizing about Laios. How about we look at the character who actually tells us the facts ("facts"): the Winged Lion.
The Winged Lion has quite a bit to say about Laios and his monster form.
He says that Laios hates humanity, and would rather be a monster
I've talked about this a bit already, but the Lion makes a lot of claims and assumptions about Laios that aren't necessarily true.
First of all, let's just make sure we clearly establish that the Lion is being manipulative here. That may seem obvious, but it's important to understand that there is a difference between 'the truth' and 'a version of the truth specifically framed to prey upon your deepest shame and insecurities about what you really want.'
To point out a few quick-and-dirty contradictions here:
If Laios really hated all other humans, then the Lion wouldn't hinge so many of his other arguments on Laios' love for Falin and his friends.
the Lion claims that Laios "[doesn't] even care enough about the future of [the] world to express an opinion about it," even though Laios has literally expressed opinions on what he wants for the world, to the Lion's face.
In general, the Lion does not make a distinction between urges and choices (see, for instance: him using Marcille's subconscious fear of the canaries as a way to keep her from stopping the monsters from attacking in chapter 86).
I'm not saying there is not a piece of truth here, but also... we are not our darkest thoughts, and we especially are not those thoughts as defined by someone who wants to hurt and control us.
But let’s move on to the stuff the Lion claims about Laios once he has been turned into his monster form.
2. He says that (or rather, acts like) Laios is under his control
The Lion really enjoys grandstanding about how Monster Laios is an ultimate tool he has control over. He gloats about making Laios fight the others, and has him smash through the magical barrier.
But smashing the barrier is kinda the only thing that Monster Laios actually does for the Lion. He doesn't attack anyone. He doesn't hurt his friends, despite Chilchuck thinking that Laios has "turned completely into a monster." And he certainly doesn't simply let the Lion go through with his plan to eat everyone.
This barrier smashing is actually an interesting and odd thing for Laios to have done specifically, so remember that one. I'll come back to it later.
But, yeah, to the original point... despite the Lion's dramatics, all that Monster Laios does is pose, smash up a magic barrier, and then eat him. Not exactly under his control.
AND SPEAKING OF EATING THE DEMON...
3. He frames Laios attacking and eating him as thoughtlessly violent
This one is pretty funny to me, and the Lion keeps it up for the whole scene. I'm not sure how much of this is his genuine understanding of the situation, and how much is him intentionally framing things in the most insulting manner, but like... truly. The ego involved in this. To see someone who has, multiple times, tried to stand against you - someone who has literally wished for your non-existence, to your face - to see this person attack you, specifically, and have your first reaction be 'huh, I guess he's a reckless weirdo to the core???'
Incredible stuff.
And this part, too:
He claims that Laios can't recognize anyone, that he's out of control. And yet, the Lion is the only person that gets eaten here. He is Laios' singular target.
Hell, Laios even specifically attacks one of the bodies that is actively hurting Chilchuck. I don't know if that was entirely intentional on Laios' part, but I do think it's notable.
The Lion torments Laios' friend, and when Laios does something that interrupts that action, the Lion reframes it as unhinged violence. I don't know, there's something here about the way that cruel people only talk about the things people do to resist them as violent, and ignore the violence that causes such resistance in the first place.
In any case, the main point is that the Lion insists on treating Laios like an unthinking animal during this fight, despite the fact that Laios is clearly trying to accomplish something here.
And what exactly is Laios trying to accomplish? Well, the Lion isn't entirely wrong. Laios is trying to eat something. He tells us as much.
And truly, everything Laios does as a monster points to this. He had a goal. And he accomplished it.
Let me back up a moment. I need to explain smashing the barrier.
So, Laios first starts considering how to kill the Lion when he is confronted with the fact that his only other choice would be to kill Marcille. Immediately and entirely discarding that solution, because of course he does, he tries to wrap his head around what defeating the Lion would even look like.
He clearly continues thinking about this, as a nearly identical conversation happens a few chapters later, when Laios is once again told that killing Marcille is the only way forward.
Only, this time, he's started to come up with an idea for how to do this impossible thing.
Harkening all the way back to the Living Armor chapter, Laios draws on the same lesson - if the Lion has made itself part of the world, if it has made itself into something alive, that means he can kill it. And eat it.
But there's an important extra detail to this. If he's going to try and kill (and eat) the Lion, he needs to strike when it’s vulnerable. He needs to strike when it's eating.
This is why he smashes through the barrier. Again, nothing else he does as a monster really benefits the Lion. He doesn't attack anyone else. The only command he obeys is to smash the barrier. Because the Lion has to think he has won for Laios to be able to eat him.
Beat him. For Laios to be able to beat him.
The question of why Monster Laios wanted to eat the Lion is, I think, the most ambiguous part. Was he curious? Hungry? Did he fight for his own life, for his friends, or for all of humanity? Did he know how to win because he had planned everything from the start, or because he was driven by an unquenchable instinct to do whatever it took to survive?
I don't know that it is possible to say for sure. But I do know that the Lion underestimates Laios, through it all. He underestimates Laios as a human, and he underestimates Laios as a monster.
And in the end, after he is bested, even then I don't think the Lion ever gets Laios. I don't think he understands how much Laios means his words about the Lion being burdened by hunger...
or what Laios cares about most...
or what meaning there is in life, for him.
So I don't buy what the Lion is selling about Laios, generally speaking. I don't buy that Laios didn't ever know what he was doing, and I don't buy that he was nothing more than a hungry beast.
Well. I mean. He was a hungry beast. But he was a more than that too. He was the Devourer of All Things Horrible. And he didn't just happen into that title by chance.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#laios touden#winged lion#dissecting how the Lion's negging works is a great exercise in understanding manipulation honestly#dungeon meshi spoilers#dunmeshi analysis
781 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
dosomethingbabe
risk something
ottesenhaastrup63
The Love of Stafford 568
punkassdeathclaw
♡꒰hemiptera꒱♡
kentaeran
kentaeran
dr-kinkys
Dr.kinkys office