#i want to throw temper tantrums. i am at that point of fuck everything
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#does anyone else just want to lie down and have someone sneeze all over them when they're in a bad mood#i feel like that would stop me from feeling so despairingly grumpy at least for a little while#this world is complete ass and i'm over itttt#i want to throw temper tantrums. i am at that point of fuck everything#this is not an april fools thing i genuinely want to press pause on life and retreat into a little isolation chamber for months#nttalks
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I am haunted by visions of Vox with a capable assistant who doms him after hours. The role reversal of guy thinking he can fuck his secretary but she turns the tables and fucks him has me sweating
I got inspired by a turn of phrase that would might have been popular a little bit before Vox’s time “his girl, Friday”
Basically a “girl Friday” was a term used for a woman in the office who acted as a jack of all trades and was good at doing a bunch of different jobs. This person was usually very capable and the office’s go-to-girl for anything and everything
So I keep imagining Vox with this hyper-competent assistant. He hires her and after becoming familiar with the company, she manages to handle things before he even asks her to do them. He decides to try and rattle her a bit with impossible tasks to knock her down a peg, but she takes that as a challenge and somehow completes them with a smarmy “will that be all,sir”
Game on. He keeps challenging her and asking for crazier shit just to prove that she can be shaken. She doesn’t even flinch, it’s a little intimidating and bruises his ego
Eventually he’s working late (which means she’s working late because somehow their work ethics are equally insane) and he starts being all snide and pissy and she just puts him in his place, insulting his behavior and his temper and physically backs him into his desk before telling him that he needs to be taught proper manners
And from then on, by day she’s Vox’s right hand who never leaves his side. But by night she bends her boss over his desk or presses him into his office chair, making him whimper and moan as she teaches him a lesson and berates him
So yeah, boss tries to dominate assistant but she effortlessly reverses their roles and makes him cry “Yes, ma’am!”
People think he’s tapping his assistant but whenever comments are made they share a look and Vox just thinks “they can’t ever know that I call you Mommy”
So the other day, I posted about wanting to do a human Vox au but lacking ideas, and one of the comments was involving an assistant x boss type deal. I don’t know if this ask is unrelated or directly caused by that post, but it gives me lots of ideas for a more specific au involving human Vox.
Anyways, since it wasn’t specified, i’ll keep the alive or dead details pretty vague. When I tell you this idea has been rotting in my brain all day, I fucking mean it.
Like this is genuinely about to get me out of writers block oh my fucking god. “His girl, friday” is a term i’ve never heard before but it’s so fitting with this. I love the go-getter incredibly efficient reader so much.
And god, it would bother Vox to an ungodly point. Because being in close quarters a lot, you being his assistant, of course he picks up on your efficiency. It makes him a little insecure because you honestly get things done quicker than he could.
So after throwing everything he can at you to knock you overboard your parade of orderliness, and you doing it all absolutely flawlessly, he can’t help but throw one of his tantrums.
Coming to him at the the end of the day, explaining you did everything he’d asked, and went beyond, closed multiple business deals for him, and got the inside information on upcoming possible marketing events. He should be happy, this objectively helps his business. But instead, he sits at his desk, watching you from across the room, before absolutely exploding.
I mean, you do his jobs better than he does. And he goes on a huge rant about how he doesn’t believe this, and how you must have absolutely no life, and basically degrading and insulting you for doing your job correctly.
And then yes, you yell at him, practically daring him to fire you. He won’t, you’re too much of an asset. You’re basically untouchable. So with that, you yell back, but unlike Vox who erupted with rage, you keep yourself as level headed as possible while talking sternly. Make even talking to him condescending as of talking to a child, explaining how it’s absolutely unbelievable he’s throwing a fit over good work ethic, and how he’d have to be out of his mind to pout about something so beneficial for Voxtech.
Going on and on about how his competitive, aggressive, targeting work behavior is unacceptable and pathetic… and now you have him back up against his desk, his sneer turning into a look of astonishment.
And then his eyes dart down, heat rising to his cheeks, and you notice the bulge in his pants. At first, you go silent, but then tease him with “You want me to take care of that too? Or will you yell at me for being too good at my job.”
Well, then he’s mad again. Probably definitely a struggle for power the first time you fuck. Yes, he tries to dom you, and fails because jesus, he really was pathetic. But you have him lied back in his chair, pinning his wrists down to either side of him, while you ride his dick into overstimulation. But he’s trying to keep quiet so no one else is the office hears his whimpers and whines.
But when he gets too loud, simply remind him that you’ll have to stop and he responds with a watery, whimper of “Y-yes ma’am.”
Now, fridays are dedicated to his girl, friday. Coincidentally, you’re both working late on those days, and even more coincidentally, you have business in his office.
That business being bending Vox over his desk until he has to cover his pathetic sobs with his hand so a janitor doesn’t hear him crying for his mommy.
Anyways, I’m almost done. I think this specifically appeals to me in a human Vox au sense because i’m hell, a work place of hell wouldn’t be particularly normalized, but it’s hell so it’s absolutely not frowned upon. He’d probably get teased about it at best, and literally a high five for tapping that. But in a human au, the stakes are much higher because there’s an actual sense of ethics and morals in business.
Also in the fifties, do you even know how taboo it would be for a boss to not only be sleeping with his assistant, but getting dominated by her every night???? I dunno.
Oh and the toxic masculinity of it all because it’s the 1950s and without being exposed to the normalization of kinks in hell, it would be so hard to break this brat down. Obviously not impossible, it’s Vox. But so much more irritating.
However, i’m hesitant to actually do a human au literally because of the silly picture I always put at the beginning. Because like I have such a specific image of what he looks like in my head (the @//notherpuppet human design) but… I don’t want to have to DM an artist and be like “Hey! love the art, can I use it for my dom reader power dynamic assistant x boss Vox x reader human au fic 😁😁😁🙏🙏” LIKE GANG I CANNOT.
Anyways, this wasn’t proofread, rant over, bimbo out.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel smut#dom reader#vox x reader#inbox open#sub vox
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you know, i was getting all sorts of ick feelings from the apology dance, and I'm so glad you pointed that out as not actually very cute or romantic in one of your posts, because yeah. it wasn't.
anyways i also just really love all of your crowley meta it's so well thought out and everything about trauma and healthy relationships i- it's just all amazing, so thank you (and sorry for the rambling lol)
Thank you! And never feel bad for rambling, I love rambling with people about this show.
The apology dance is such a sore spot for me, the entire first episode is, really. At first it seems - cute, funny, you laugh, and then don't think about it too much.
But then you do think about it and suddenly it is everything but romantic.
I might write a whole meta post about it at some point but the summary is basically as follows.
Aziraphale calls Crowley to meet him in the café and we're literally starting off with "don't say anything" for no reasons, but alright. Then he talks around the point, lies to Crowley's face, and eventually brings him to the bookshop only because Nina sped the whole thing up with the naked man comment. Aziraphale does not warn Crowley, doesn't say anything, nothing. Just jumps it on him.
THEN he refuses to "ask him properly", expecting Crowley to play bad cop and do the dirty work.
When Crowley tries to be a fucking adult about it and actually talk to Aziraphale in private, Aziraphale is already not listening to him. We get the "exactly" question, Aziraphale ignores every single issue Crowley points out because he has already decided what he is going to do. What he wants from Crowley is not a solution - he wants him to say "yes and" and do what he has in mind.
He THEN behaves like a fucking five year old with his "You're at liberty to go". I am holding myself back here but in short, this is a manipulation tactic. He is LITERALLY guilt tripping Crowley.
Crowley is incredibly taken aback and rightfully hurt, and Aziraphale feels bad and goes back to begging him for help - and Crowley almost says yes. He is about to say yes because he loves him and wants to keep him save.
Aziraphale however, for fucking childish reasons, goes back to his temper tantrum and throws "if you won't, you won't" into Crowley's face, sits down, and watches him leave. After HE called HIM for help because again, he didn't want help. He wanted a "yes of course aziraphale do you want a massage too or maybe a cocktail?"
But nooooo, of course it's Crowley who needs to apologize, and the fact that he is forced into doing the dance by Aziraphale is such a funny haha romantic laugh moment and not at all the fucking climax of Aziraphale's entire manipulation tactic.
Yeah. Fuck that, is my final thought. Conclusion: not funny, someone get Crowley into a healthier environment asap.
this turned into a little meta post i hope you don't mind rip i'm in a mood today
#alex answers asks#alex talks good omens#good omens#ineffable husbands#crowley#aziraphale#good omens season 2#go2#aziracrow#crowley x aziraphale#ineffable divorce#good omens meta#apology dance
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Well! Second DMing session ended with the guy who made me do it, who was going to "help" me, hanging up on me mid-session and texting
So much for "I don't care if you don't know how to do it, I'll walk you through it," I guess.
I was very clear from the outset that I think most ttrpgs, and ALL DnD rules, are arbitrary math nonsense that you need a college course to understand, specifically created by terrible people to force everyone else to put up with their infantile, unintuitive view of the universe. I told him I hate this crap. He manipulated me into trying it anyway. Guess who hasn't changed his mind, and guess who is now throwing a temper-tantrum about it? I TOLD YOU this was a bad idea.
I read the book. The 8 books. It doesn't matter. They're math textbooks written by bad writers and my eyes kept glazing over. I don't understand why any of these rules exist. I'm just forced to memorize formulas. That I don't respect.
There is no space for reputation, or politics, or combat scenario realities, or random accidents and diseases, or genuine surprises, or living in an apathetic, living, breathing world that doesn't give a fuck about your Chosen One status. It is wizards casting fire balls, because the guy doing that hates his mom, and made up a rule set where he can play his weird stupid power fantasies. His weird, stupid, RACIST power fantasies, if this last group's predilections is any indication.
I don't have patience for this. It's arcane and unrealistic and sucks the joy out of everything and it ISN'T FUN.
If you love it, great. I'll get out of your way. But it runs counter to how my brain works and I fucking hate it. I love the idea of using dice to RP events and see what happens. But at some point of complexity you are just obeying someones precious little rule-book so obnoxious math nerds who memorized it can be smug about exploiting loopholes.
Go play a video game for that. That's not a healthy social interaction. That's yet another version of a group of fucked-up people being whiney and dogmatic about random shit they made up, specifically so they can be cool in a world they specifically designed for that purpose. And what the fuck is that? I hate them, and I hate that.
My old mantra was "nerds with math ruin everything." I was always half-joking, but only half. I have zero respect for everything this is, and what people are apparently looking for from it. It is frustrating and boring and limiting and stupid to me. I don't enjoy it. And I don't even want to ever play it again, because I dread being doomed to waste my brain power sorting out weird meta game math shit that doesn't seem to take into account any defensible simulation of actual reality.
I have spent 120+ hours over the last 5 months trying to get into this. Trying to get a handle on why people like it, to figure out the secret I am missing. I have spent stupid amounts of money on stuff, to that end.
And I either lack the 3000 IQ space brain to get it, or I absolutely get it, and I just absolutely hate it. Either way, I've had enough.
I want to do a D6 system that is just "roll against opponent, bigger number wins, DM RPs what that means." That's loose and interesting and feels like real life. The rest can go jump in the river.
"YEAH BUT THAT'S UNFAIR TO PLAYERS!"
The world is unfair to life. You're not 12 anymore. I don't get anything out of playing around in a baby world made for babies. You're just mad because it isn't going to work in your favor the way I'm proposing it.
It's like Tim Cain said about programming RNG. You give them real RNG, everyone gets mad because "it's not fair." Because RNG isn't fair. They don't want RNG, they want to be autocrats of reality, then soothe themselves that they're not in fact cheating assholes by claiming "the numbers worked out in my favor."
When the reality is that the system was specifically designed over 50+ years to give them an advantage. And that isn't RNG. That isn't playing a role. That isn't being a real hero by self-sacrificing and being randomly lucky and muddling through. It's just egotistical self-delusional nothingness.
Like, maybe these kinds of games are STILL niche things for a reason? Maybe the only really popular and profitable entries are video game and movie versions where you don't see the math, BECAUSE you don't see the math? Like I don't think I'm alone in not giving a shit about this byzantine, nerfed crap.
That doesn't make me better. Do whatever you want. But if THAT'S what you're doing, count me the fuck out.
I did my time, and I'm sick of this shit.
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The thing about Arik in Willow (2022) that makes me really fucking sad for him is like...he has potential? And he knows it? And no one, including the narrative is allowing him to actually act on it.
'Cus see, I refuse to believe he is corrupted by The Crone because he's a fuckboi who wanted power. That's not what "I am your king" means to Arik.
Arik is the guy that everyone dismisses as a useless airhead who's only interested in one thing except???? He's not? Which he tries to tell everyone, including the audience/narrative multiple times.
In the *first episode* we see him actually pull some pretty fancy diplomatic footwork (offscreen) which was NECESSARY because Kit throwing a temper tantrum in front of the entire fucking court was a legitimate diplomatic incident. That was BAD, that was a BAD THING that endangered a lot of people! It's said multiple times that the marriage was to link two kingdoms and strengthen them and Kit just Deciding to openly blow off her betrothed was A Bit Not Good actually!
And then Arik swoops in and smooths everything over because he's good with people, actually, he's good at sweet talking them, and he BASICALLY FUCKING SAVES KIT A LOT OF FACE and then his mom yells at him for it because she's stressed about Willow's prophesy and Kit's immature selfishness.
And then! When he makes the promise to Elora he actually really fucking means it?! He really, really does. He stays faithful to her when The Crone tries to seduce him and reveals he does!! Actually!! Know her name!!! He knows it's Brunhilda and calls her "Dove" because he realizes she doesn't like her actual name!!!! He knows that about her!! Because he fucking meant it!
And to top it all off, the poor boy is genre savvy!!!!!!!! He didn't do shit in the creepy abandoned city and when it started trying to *talk* to him HE FUCKING LEAVES. HE LITERALLY NOPES OUT BECAUSE THAT CAN'T BE GOOD, RIGHT? He doesn't even drink the orange glitter goo until he's forced to go back into the city *or fucking die*. And even THEN after he's been drinking The Wyrm's Milk or whatever the fuck he still resists the The Crone. He doesn't succumb immediately, in fact when he realizes what she is he *tries to leave again*.
(What I'm not mentioning here is that he is also possibly very magic sensitive in some way, because he reacts to The Crone with the same sort of shudder/groan thing he does with Elora which Eye Wood Lyke To Sea Examined Thank You).
My point is, Arik is smart. He knows his strengths and his weaknesses and is pretty happy to be pandered to, but is not completely fucking useless when taken out of his ivory tower. He did get captured but he knew how to use that sword before he did. He has faith, and loyalty, and a lot of strength of character and seems fairly content with the apparent state of things (Kit destined for the throne despite being younger than him technically? I was unclear on that).
"I am your king" being his "temptation" is not for the *power*. With "king" comes responsibility, and more importantly here RECOGNITION that he has extremely laudable and noble qualities. "King", for Arik, means that people will see him for more than what they expect to see when the look at him.
His mother dismisses his quick thinking and quite necessary diplomatic talent as meddling and his sister waves off him succumbing to brainwashing and torture after an (unknown but) long period of time during which he did *everything in his power to escape* as naiveté and gullibility. Even Elora doesn't really believe he's true to his word about her.
"I am your king" means "I have integrity, diplomacy, and intelligence and I am honored to be entrusted with the protection of my people". "I am your king" means "See me for who I am". "I am your king" means "Recognize my talents, or you will lose me as I lose myself". Not "I want power because I was born privileged and deserve it by divine right".
Anyway we better get a season 2.
#a riley special#willow#willow 2022#willow series#arik tanthalos#rant#that thing about tragic figures being in the wrong story/genre?#yeah#thats my boy#anyway i love him#im so mad they cut his hair#airk tanthalos
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I feel like I am going to get so much heartache from Only Friends. Like Nick is literally going to face his heartbreak soon (unless he gets smarter in the 'nick' of time) but also if Ray in his all-consuming loneliness falls in love with Sand, who doesn't reciprocate it back, it's gonna break my heart! All I want is for Nick to understand before he gets in too deep what a red flag Boston is and Ray needs to, just, I dunno..... perhaps love himself more and not trip on his toes for Sand! My poor, poor boys!!
This show is not about happy endings or a smooth ride. It's about real, messy, hurt, damaged boys who cope with everything wrong with them in mostly the wrong ways, honestly.
Ray is definitely my boy, my meow meow, the one who is going to hurt and be hurt and ache and be lonely and be clingy and be desperate and throw tantrums and hurt people and hurt himself and scream and cry. He is a stray cat that uses his claws and his purr interchangeably because he doesn't understand why anyone would care. He sees money as his only value and uses it freely because he has nothing else and that leaves him even smaller. Money and sex and alcohol and that's al he's got, all he can rely on, all he thinks he's worth. So he acts out and he laughs and he gets drunk and he leaves his friends and he runs hoping someone, anyone will chase him but no one ever does. He already hurts me and the show is only going to keep hurting me with him.
Because his relationship with Sand is going to be painful. No matter how falls for who, they can't possibly find equal ground currently. Because Ray is in love with Mew (and he isn't going to give that up easily) but also because whatever Sand sees in Ray he knows what he sees in him and what he sees is a disaster. He sees a flaming trash can of a young man who might have positive spots and who might need him but is going to bring him nothing but pain and he is trying to play with that fire carefully but playing with fire can get you burnt no matter how careful you are. Especially if you're eating fire (insert blowjob joke here).
Nick and Boston are... yeah, that's gonna be a ride. Because Boston is a walking pile of red flags with a little red flag dick pointing out of it and Nick seems to have no idea what he's looking at or getting himself into. Of everyone, Nick is the one I'm most worried heartbreak wise and Boston is the one I'm most worried in terms of 'fucking everyone over entirely because he felt like it'.
While I hope Nick will figure out what's going on with Boston before he shatters... I doubt he will. I think Nick is gonna fall hard and fall deep and Sand is gonna have to try to put him back together and that's gonna create more problems because Sand is definitely going to care more about Nick than anyone else no matter where his relationship with Ray is at that point and that's just... there are so many moving parts in this show and it's gonna be wild to see them crash into each other.
My hardest part with this show is knowing that we are unlikely to get any happy endings for anyone and making sure to temper myself on expectations in that. But also not getting my hopes too high for certain aspects I want (manipulative AF Mew, Top lying to Mew and trying to use him, Ray fighting falling for Sand because loving Mew is familiar and safe, Sand struggling with his feelings towards Ray because he knows what he's getting into with him, Nick managing to destroy Boston despite his own broken heart, Boston just... you know what, I think Boston will actually fulfill all my wishes for him.)
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*Eren from my fanfiction reading Chapter 139*
Eren: Are they trying to say that I came back as a bird just to put that scarf back around Mikasa’s neck? Why is Armin thanking me for killing so many people? He was so adamant about stopping the Rumbling, but now he is cool with it because the narrative said I did it for their sake. Am I supposed to believe that Mikasa got over her obsession with me even though it doesn’t look like it? I feel bad for her husband because the only time we see her with him is visiting my grave, that seems more like she settled because she didn’t want to die alone. Am I also supposed to want to punch myself when I am throwing that temper tantrum over Mikasa falling in love with another guy after I am gone, because I really want to punch myself in that scene. But most importantly of all, fuck you for saying that Ymir Fritz was in love with King Fritz, you know the guy that called her his slave. It is especially bad when the narrative wants to compare Ymir Fritz and King Fritz to Mikasa and me where I am put in the role of King Fritz. Why is it now saying that Ymir Fritz waited 2,000 years for Mikasa when before everything in the story pointed to her waiting for me. This is almost enough to make me want to finish the Rumbling.
*decides to instead hunt down any copy of Vol 34 he can and rip out the pages for Chapter 139 from each copy*
Historia: You also forgot to add how stupid it was to have Reiner drool over the letter I wrote after all the character development he had. It is also cute that they think that I would be happy with one of the guys that bullied me especially when I have you for my husband.
*Historia smiles seductively at Eren*
Eren: Sorry about that, you are right, it is stupid what they did to you especially when the story seemed to build up you getting with me and making a baby with me. It is almost as if someone really wanted me and Mikasa to be a thing even though the narrative was leaning towards it being terrible for both me and Mikasa.
#attack on titan#aot#anti chapter 139#eren jaeger#anti eremika#but not anti mikasa#eren is not a bird#ymir fritz deserves better#eren deserves better#mikasa deserves better#erehisu#historia deserves better#historia reiss#krista lenz
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This Is Gonna Make Me Sound Ungrateful But Idc. (Long post).
Two people in my family are major gift-givers. But the problem is, its to a fault imo.
For YEARS I have complained that I never have any room for the shit I Already Have. I am currently in the process of gathering up a bunch of shit to give to goodwill or whomever because i literally have NO place to put it. I do this every so often and every single time these two just completely undo it with their gift-giving no matter how many times I tell them not to.
My family, also, tend to keep a lot of pointless shit. I’m NOT calling them hoarders, thats an actual major mental illness which I don’t think they fall under. what they DO do, however, is they are the type where as long as you shove everything under a bed or in a closet, its “clean”. very “out of sight, out of mind” mentality. well, we’ve been doing that for so many years now that we no longer CAN put shit under our bed, we no longer CAN put shit in our closets.
But every single year my father AND my brother, even tho everyone is ACUTELY aware of how i feel about this type of shit, gets me these Big gifts that take up all this space. OR its a bunch of Little shit that does nothing but sit on a shelf.
like I appreciate the thought, its really nice, but at the same time
i have had MULTIPLE meltdowns, M U L T I P L E, over how I NEED to get shit out of this goddamn house because my tiny-ass room is just covered in useless figures and items that do not Have a place to go. And don’t get me wrong, I Do get rid of stuff! Problem is, Christmas will come around again, and now all my progress was for Nothing while I get gifted all these giant video game pre-order figurines or special collectors edition whatevers or Another Gundam. None of which is asked for by me.
And I’m not allowed to get mad!!!! Any attempts to tell these people “I JUST WANT MONEY OR GIFT CARDS PLEASE” is either disregarded Entirely, or is taken as a joke (usually taken as a joke no matter how much I basically Plead with them to not get me anything). Hell, honestly I don’t really want ANYTHING for christmas or birthdays or whatever. I’m a big girl, I make my own money, I can buy my own things.
But if I get upset at the fact that I’m getting more shit thats just gonna get put on a shelf and forgotten about, I’M THE BAD GUY!
I don’t care if I sound ungrateful or whatever. I Really, REALLY wish this shit would fucking STOP. I’m sick of having to play fucking Tetris in my tiny-ass little fuckin room that I’m in in this god-forsaken house just because if I decline or get rid of some big-ass knick-knack gift I’ll hurt someones fee fees. :(
They always fuckin say too! “I have no idea what to get you anymore!!! :)))” HOW ABOUT PLEASE DON’T. IF I HAVE SOMETHING I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS I WILL LET YOU KNOW. YOU ASK ME FOR A LIST AS IT IS, WHATS THE POINT OF GIVING YOU THAT LIST IF UR JUST GONNA OVERLOAD ME WITH SHIT ANYWAY!!!!
MAYBE LISTEN TO ME WHEN I SAY “I HAVE TOO MUCH SHIT ALREADY”. PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING CHRIST. I SWEAR TO GOD THESE PEOPLE IN THIS HOUSE DO NOT FUCKING LISTEN UNLESS IM ACTIVELY THROWING A TEMPER TANTRUM LIKE A CHILD!!!!!!!! AND I FEEL SO TERRIBLE CUZ IM YELLING AND SCREAMING OVER BEING GIVEN GIFTS!!! I DONT MIND GETTING GIFTS BUT WHEN I HAVE NO ROOM:
I.
HAVE.
NO.
R O O M.
AND ME DUMPING A BUNCH OF SHIT TO GOODWILL DOES *NOT* FUCKING MEAN I WANT MORE FIGURES THAT WILL JUST SIT THERE! I’M TRYING TO GET RID OF THIS SHIT SO I DON’T FEEL LIKE I’M CONSTANTLY LIVING IN A TRASH HEAP.
#idk#idc#i feel like such a spoiled brat but idgaf#we're not even upper-middle class either so its also kinda scary wondering how they're getting the money to pay for this shit with#cuz none of its cheap
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Unwanted bride
Daemon Targaryen x Reader
Summary: You are forced to marry the infamous Rogue Prince. (I suck at summaries)
A/N: I have so many requests waiting to be written, but I'm currently trapped in a HOTD-mood. So, sorry for everyone who is waiting!
Enjoy reading!
PS: Not proofread. BTW should this be a series? Is it worth a second part? Please let me know!
A busy day – as always. Loud and chaotic, yet the whispers traveling through the streets of King's Landing were especially deafening today: King Viserys I had just announced his brother's betrothal – The infamous Rogue Prince's after having heard of the disgraceful rumors regarding his daughter and his brother. He had seen no way out other than marrying his brother off to a nice lady and send him back to Dragonstone, far away from Rhaenyra and make him stay there for good.
The King leaned back into the soft cushions of the armchair in his study, taking a deep breath and counting to three in his mind, his eyes closed, brows furrowed and shoulders slack. As if on cue the doors to his study were thrown open with the strength and anger that befitted one man, he knew all too well before he could even finish pronouncing the single syllable of three in his head.
His brother.
"You must be joking brother, and my patience is wearing thin – another betrothal?! Don't you think I have sacrificed enough for you? Forcing me to marry woman after woman that YOU chose?!" Daemon spat angrily, his finger pointed angrily at the King. Viserys stared at his brother lazily – he did not have the energy to succumb to his own anger and frustration after yesterday's restless night – dreams of his late wife Aemma haunting him. His tired eyes traveled from the angered face of his younger brother down to his rapidly heaving chest and stopped at the tip of his pointer finger. "I refuse to play along with your stupid games – you obviously do not respect me –"
"You are talking about respect?!" Viserys finally snapped, his voice as loud as a dragon's roar. "You disrespected me again! I thought you were over and done with this nonsense! But no – you go and try to ruin my daughter again –"
"And don't you dare start talking about wishing to wed Rhaenyra – I will not allow it. Not in this life or the afterlife. I am your King, and you will do as I say or Gods forbid ..." "Gods forbid what?" Daemon grit out, interrupting his brother as an act of defiance – knowing well that he had lost this argument.
Many maids and knights had been sent to his room that day. Viserys always gets his way whenever he wants — and he is set on pulling through with this — no room for mistakes. He doesn't take any chances with the Rogue Prince. He is aware of the dangers and mischief that always seem to surround his younger brother and he won't be fooled again by him.
To further spite his brother — and mainly to ensure that everything goes smoothly without any disturbances — he has not allowed a meeting between the two betrotheds. Daemon will see the face of his wife when he weds her — not sooner. He shakes his head at the memory of another temper tantrum that his brother had thrown when he had found out. He had stormed out like a child throwing a tantrum with the words:
I will fucking burn everything down if she is an ugly witch.
Charming as always, his little brother.
The Rogue Prince had already been awake to everyone's surprise, freshly bathed and already getting dressed for the occasion. What was less surprising was the deep frown that was marring his features. He was furious — at his brother and his future wife that he hadn't even met yet.
Within a few minutes he was ready, looking like the royal prince that he is: beautiful silver hair in the usual half up do that he was always sporting, fair skin, a beautiful suit made to wear by the mightiest of princes.
He stared at his own reflection as he grit his teeth. He wanted to get this over with — and he would make everyone's lives a living hell.
Hours later he stood on top of the altar the maester behind him as his gaze was fixed on the closed doors. His shoulders were tense, his jaw clenched. He did everything possible to tame the anger that he was feeling, he forced the corners of his lips into a smirk — typical of the prince. He would never admit to the fact that he felt nervous — he knew nothing about this woman.
He only knew that he had always wanted his niece — a full blown Targaryen. Yet he was once again denied the honor — it was his birthright though, he claimed. He forced himself to relax his jaw when he tasted blood. The taste of iron overwhelming his senses.
A brief moment later the doors opened, the light shining through the windows blinding his sight, trying to hide the figures walking towards the altar.
How ironic.
Daemon's heart pounded in his chest; his senses heightened with anticipation. His shoulders tense and his jaw clenched, a mask of indifference masking the turmoil raging within him.
With a forced smirk playing on his lips, he directed his gaze towards the entrance, his eyes narrowed in a display of feigned confidence. He refused to show any sign of nervousness or distaste, knowing that it would only serve to undermine his position.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall, drawing closer with each passing moment. Daemon's grip tightened on the hilt of his sword; a subconscious gesture born of nerves rather than aggression.
And then, as the figures drew nearer, the light shifted, revealing the silhouette of a woman walking towards him, her form illuminated by the soft glow of the candles that lined the aisle.
Your breath hitched as the huge doors opened. The chatter inside immediately died down, the silence weighing heavy on your shoulders. You struggled to breathe. And the tight corset around your waist felt like a deadly snake out to kill you slowly – its grip growing tighter by the minute until it finally suffocates you until you are no more.
You slowly lifted your head high, as high as you felt, your vision disrupted by the thick veil on your head. You were glad you couldn’t see clearly, for the turned heads alone were enough to send your heart into overdrive.
The hand on your back slowly pushed you to move forward, the touch scorching hot as it sent a wave of nausea straight to your stomach. You wish your family had been with you – someone familiar. Someone warm. But instead, the hand belonged to the uncle you hated. And apparently, he hated you too.
He had brought you with him, with the promise of adventures. But instead, you were immediately sold off like life-stock.
They are Targaryen.
Your uncle had told you.
He is a dragon rider.
He had added with excitement and slight envy – as if he wanted your future husband for himself.
You’ll be known as the lady wife of The Rogue Prince.
You shuddered at the memory as you had shuddered then. You had heard the tales about The Rogue Prince, and you had only gained more knowledge on him the closer you had got. From what you could gather: He was the worst. And he would not treat you kindly, as you lacked certain attributes that he was known to desire.
With one last push from your uncle your feet started moving, taking slow and deliberate steps while minding the heavy skirts of her wedding gown, spread around her like rose petals. The Valyrian steel necklace with the red stone felt too tight around your neck, you felt the strong urge to rip it off and throw it onto the cold marble floor. But you couldn’t.
Instead, you took in a deep shaky breath before you reached the dais where Daemon Targaryen stood, his silver-gold hair cascading down his back, his violet eyes ablaze with a mixture of irritation and blinding fury. Your heart stuttered chest tight with anxiety, as you approached him. You couldn't help but notice the contrast between his striking Targaryen features and your own plainness. You weren’t unattractive – you were beautiful. Yet you couldn’t help but feel small in front of your future husband.
The murmurs of the gathered guests intensified as you drew nearer, the weight of their scrutiny pressing down on you like a leaden cloak – like the cloak of Daemon’s house would feel. You felt the urge to flee, to escape this suffocating atmosphere, but you knew there was no turning back now.
With every step, your heart pounded louder in your ears, the sound echoing in the cavernous hall. And then, finally, you stood before him, your breath catching in your throat as you dared to raise your gaze to meet his. He loomed over you, a deep frown on his face as he tried to look past your veils. He was so much taller, broader and older than you – his stature intimidated you.
As the High Septon’s voice sounded, you felt Daemon's gaze burning into you, even though he couldn’t exactly see you his violet eyes seemingly bored into your soul with an intensity that made your heart race. You gulped; throat dry.
The ceremony passed by in a blur, you flinched slightly when your cloak was removed replaced by Daemon’s heavy one, his smell lingering on the fabric and surrounding you like a blanket.
And then, it was finally time for him to remove your veil. Screaming internally, you willed your facial muscles to relax, eyes widening slightly as Daemon lifted his hands to lift the fabric. As the delicate fabric fell away, revealing your face to him and the assembled guests, you held your breath, bracing for his reaction. His fiery eyes now finally meeting your big, scared ones. For a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still as his gaze locked with yours. In that instant, you saw something unexpected flicker in his violet eyes — a glimmer of awe and curiosity. He smirked.
A hush fell over the hall, the silence broken only by the soft rustle of fabric and the beating of your heart, as your husband gripped your chin with his hand, lifting your head before his lips were crashing into yours, hot, wet and demanding. He tilted his head slightly, parting your lips with his thumb, before pushing his tongue hungrily into your inexperienced mouth. Your face heated up at the sheer embarrassment you felt. The kiss was brutal, void of any emotion or warmth – it was just to spite you in front of everyone.
A gasp was heard before the king cleared his throat.
And just as quickly as it had begun the kiss ended, biting your lip as he pulled away, leaving you breathless and reeling, your senses swimming in a dizzying whirl of emotion. And as you stood there, locked in each other's gaze, the crude smirk still plastered on his face, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
As the ceremony gave way to celebration, the great hall erupted with the sounds of revelry. Long tables groaned under the weight of sumptuous feasts, the air thick with the scent of roast meats, spiced wine, and freshly baked bread. Guests laughed and sang, their voices mingling with the strains of music that filled the air.
You found yourself seated at the high table sitting next to your husband. Despite the festive atmosphere, a palpable tension hung in the air, a silent undercurrent of unspoken grievances and unfulfilled desires.
As you sat there, picking at your food with feigned interest, you couldn't help but feel the weight of Daemon's gaze upon you. His violet eyes bore into you with a fierce intensity, his jaw clenched in barely restrained anger. You knew he resented you, resented being forced into this marriage against his will, and the knowledge only served to fuel the flames of your own insecurity. You wanted to cry, the little girl inside you slowly dying as the dream wedding and the lord husband of your dreams slowly seeped through your fingers like sand. You kissed all your dream and wishes goodbye as the angry Targaryen sitting next to you finally turned to face the other way.
Releasing a breath of relief a figure approached your table, cutting through the tension like a knife through butter. It was Cregan Stark, tall and imposing, his ice-blue eyes glinting with mischief as he offered you his hand.
"Would you do me the honor of a dance, my princess?" he asked, his voice smooth as silk.
For a moment, you were stunned into silence, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. And for a brief second, you wished you had married a man like him instead of the brooding dragon rider who refused to ask you for a dance. You smiled slightly, your first real smile of the day, as your cheeks flushed a pretty pink. But before you could even formulate a response or lift your hand, Daemon's hand shot out, gripping your arm roughly, quickly pulling it down before anyone could see.
"She's my wife," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
But Cregan Stark merely smiled, unfazed by Daemon's obvious displeasure.
"Of course, my apologies," he said with a polite nod. "I meant no offense. But I couldn’t help but notice the longing in your eyes, princess."
“It is none of your concern, Stark.” Daemon spat out, glaring at the still smiling male.
You sat there stunned, your heart pounding in your chest and your arm throbbing from the tight grip. You stole a glance at Daemon and noticed his clenched jaw and deep frown. It must have hurt his ego that another man asked his wife for a dance. Your heart beat faster as you forcefully removed his hand from around your arm, turning to smile up at Cregan Stark, your eyes shining as you put your hand in his.
“I would love to, my lord.”
As you gracefully twirled away with Cregan Stark, you felt everyone’s eyes glued to your form. It was unheard of for the bride to have her first dance with another. Yet there you were.
You couldn't help but steal a glance back at Daemon. His expression was a storm of conflicting emotions, his fists clenched at his sides as he watched you dance with a mixture of anger and frustration etched across his features.
The king, seated beside him, chuckled at the sight, his voice carrying over the music with a hint of amusement. "Well, brother, it seems you've only yourself to blame for not dancing with your wife."
Daemon's glare intensified, his jaw tightening with barely contained fury. "I didn’t even want to marry her," he stated through gritted teeth.
The king merely shrugged, taking a sip of his wine as he watched the scene unfold before him. "And yet, here you are, brooding with something akin envy. Perhaps you should be more attentive from now on, brother dearest. She is your wife after all. And from the looks of it, she has many admirers.” The smile on Viserys’ face morphed into a chuckle as he he nodded towards another lord who was waiting eagerly to dance with you, his eyes alight with mirth at the sight of your popularity among the assembled guests.
Daemon's response was a low growl, his gaze never leaving you as you moved across the dance floor with another man. It was clear that he resented the Stark's intrusion, that he bristled at the thought of another man laying claim to what is rightfully his.
With a sudden, angry movement, Daemon Targaryen pushed his chair back with a loud scrape against the stone floor, his fists clenched at his sides as he rose to his full height. Rolling his shoulders back he walked away from the table and towards you, his violet eyes flashing with a fierce intensity.
Viserys, rolled his eyes at his brother's dramatic display, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips nonetheless his heart at ease as he could detect the way his brother was drawn to his new bride, no matter how vehemently he would deny the truth.
Daemon’s gaze was solely fixed on you as he strode towards you. You still hadn’t noticed him.
How dare you?
“It’s time for us to dance, my dear wife.” He demanded, with a saccharine sweet smile on his face. He didn’t wait for your response as he took ahold of your hand and practically ripped you away from Cregan – pulling you straight into his strong arms. He placed his hand dangerously low on your back, his touch possessive as he looked down at you, your body immediately tensing up at the close proximity. Whereas Cregan Stark had been respectful, Daemon was daring, pressing your bodies together as he danced with you. His arm wrapping around your waist tightly.
Narrowing his eyes, Daemon mumbled quietly, “If you wanted to dance, you should have asked, wife.”
You couldn’t help but scoff at the Targaryen prince’s audacity. “A bride shouldn’t have to ask her spouse.”
Daemon seemed do dislike your tone as his grip on you tightened, his fingers pressing harshly into your flesh.
“Careful with that attitude, little bird.” He sneered, his eyes darkening with a strange emotion that you haven’t seen before – you couldn’t pinpoint it.
You chose not to retort to your husband’s silent threat, not wishing to anger the man you had to spend the rest of your life with further. Averting your eyes, you missed the devilish smirk on his face. His movements laced with an air of impatience. He couldn’t wait to finally be alone with his pretty little wife.
#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon x reader#hotd x reader#daemon targaryen#house of the dragon#house of the dragon x reader#hotd daemon#prince daemon targaryen
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I was raised by children. Not by age, but by mentality. I am 23 years old and it took me becoming a parent to realize how silly and immature my parents were. I am SEVERELY emotionally damaged and I can’t do anything about it at this point because no matter how many psychiatrists I go see and how many meds I take, my brain will never change the way it is.
I will never stop bottling in my anger, because I only ever experienced my fathers rage without control. I will never stop being a people pleaser, because I was only ever taught to do as I was told and never given praise. I will never be violent, even when necessary. Because my father made me so afraid of violence and anger that my legs wobble at even the slightest bit of confrontation. I can never feel safe in my body again. Because when I tried to hide my body with sweatshirts, or when I tried changing my style to feel more confident, he would force me to go change into something he approved of. And so now, I have a never ending feeling of insecurity when I’m out, because I was taught to be uncomfortable in clothes. I can’t even stand up to authority, because he drilled it into my mind with FEAR that good boys do as they’re told. He’s a 50 year old manchild who throws a tantrum at the first inconvenience. He would hurt anyone for looking at him the wrong way. He takes out his frustrations on others, sometimes to their detriment. And that is the man that was supposed to guide me growing up.
I’ll never feel good about myself again. Because my mother takes every chance to make herself feel superior. Because I was a gifted child, but I wasn’t allowed to pursue my passions. Because even though I’d gotten half a dozen awards for my intellect, the football award I was most proud of was “useless” because it wasn’t academic. I was the best in the school. Every school. My IQ measured at GENIUS. And now I can’t even remember what I was doing. I can’t remember what happened yesterday. All because I dropped out of high school to spite you, mother. And even then, you found a way to make me feel inferior. I had the world at my fingertips. A partial scholarship in 8th grade. I could’ve been anything. And I fucked up. But instead of helping me be better, nurturing and inspiring me to get back up? You pushed me down. For 3 years all I heard was every little side-comment you made. I hear you reminding me that I was a failure. And the funniest part? When I finally did graduate, I did it in accident. Schoolwork was so easy for me that i SOMEHOW accidentally did too much work and graduated without noticing. I was special. And I never felt it. I hear you judge me for how I dress, knowing full well why I don’t care what goes on my body. I hear you tell my child that you’re a better parent. I hear you make yourself feel superior by putting everyone down. But god forbid someone says something about you. Just like dad, you can’t handle criticism. But where dad throws a temper tantrum, you flat out try to leave. Like a child that didn’t get their way, you say “okay then I just won’t do _ for you anymore”. Like a child who doesn’t like the way her game is going, you shut it down and basically say “oh it’s against me? Well then I don’t want to play anymore”. You completely avoid accountability and make yourself to be the poor victim because you work so hard and blah blah blah. But it was your decision to not leave my dad, no matter how much he left you.
You two are so fucking stubborn, and you’re fucking children. And now here I am. I can’t say no to people. I NEED to be useful. I can’t put myself first. If anyone needs something, I put their needs over mine. I can’t stand up to people. The slightest thought of angering or disappointing someone makes me want to cry. I can’t process anger. I am the sweetest, kindest, nicest, most generous, friendly, helpful person on the planet. Not because I’m a decent person, but because I was traumatized into being exactly that. I’m late to everything. Because dad never started getting ready until everyone else already was. Because we didn’t leave home until it was time for us to be arriving. I’m messy. Because every time I tried cleaning for me, you told me it was never enough. And so now I’m comfortable in a mess. I’m comfortable in chaos, because when I tried learning order for me, you made me feel like it was useless. I scream at videogames now. I say the most vile, horrific shit to random people in the internet, because the only way I can vent my anger is when I know I’m not gonna be hurt. I’m a fucked up person. And I’m probably gonna fuck up my own child. But I’ll make DAMN FUCKING SURE that they’re not you.
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Married In A Hurricane (Bonus)
Camilo Madrigal x Reader
All characters written in this story is 18+.
Since it was highly requested, here is the bonus chapter of Married In A Hurricane.
No angst, just fluff to heal the broken heart.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5(finale). Bonus.
xxxx
(Reader’s POV)
“Milo she’s going to flip out and punch me if she see’s me. Are you sure I should come with you?”I peeked around the corner to see the Santo’s residence. There I saw Maria bossing around the gardeners which made their jobs so much harder than it needed to be.
“Yes it’s okay, plus I’d love mi vida to come with me. And don’t worry, I’ll protect you if she does anything to you”He gives me a flirty smile that made my heart melt. He needs to stop or else I’ll end up as a puddle by the end of the day.
It was a few days after Camilo had professed his love towards a door, but since ended up being there I guess towards me. With that being said, the past few days have been crazy. My initial plan was to leave Encanto but things have changed since then. I am now staying for good.
It started off with telling the Madrigals about the start of Milo’s and I’s relationship. Tia Julieta and Tio Agustìn were happy to hear the news and that resulted to Camilo getting showered with aprenas. The cousins all knew about our relationship given that Dolores had heard everything go down and was relaying the information as it was happening. As for Tia Pepa and Tio Felix…lets just say the Encanto’s skies were filled with double rainbows the whole day.
The last conversation we had that day was with Abuela. We were hesitant at first since we would have to tell her that the engagement with the Santo’s would have to break off. However, after we had explained everything from my feelings and Camilo’s realization about his feelings, Abuela was quiet before giving both of us a hug.
“I am so happy to hear that”Our shoulders immediately felt lighter.
That brings us to today. The last thing we needed to do was actually break the engagement. Camilo was going to he the one to do it, I just came along for moral support. (In reality, I being cowardly. I wanted to stay home but Camilo wanted otherwise)
“Lets make this quick and easy so that we can go on our picnic date”He takes a hold of my hand followed by a gentle kiss on the cheek. My face went red as fuck.
“M-Milo!”He laughs.
“Oh mi vida you are so cute, I’m so lucky”I blushed even deeper. This boy most definitely knew how to get me, and to be honest I was loving every second of it.
Camilo shoots me another smile before walking towards Maria who opened her arms thinking that Camilo was going in for a hug. He however stops walking before he got too close. I was far enough that Maria couldn’t spot me right off the bat, but close enough to see what was happening.
I could see her progressively get angrier until it got to a point where she just looked crazy. She threw a temper tantrum for a solid 10-15 minutes before throwing the ring she wore at Camilo(who caught it before it could fall on the ground). She stomps off right after. Camilo lets out a deep sigh, I began to laugh.
“Oh dang, maybe you should have just married her!”I teased. He shook his head and stared at the ring in the palm of his hand. After a few seconds he throws it behind him, past his shoulder.
“Opps”
“Camilo! Why would you do that?!That was probably so expensive”My eyes flew towards the direction he threw it in. He shrugs.
“Yours will be better”
“I-what”
“Nothing mi pretty vida”He smirks, gives me a wink, then walks off.
Did he just..Okay yea if my face wasn’t red already. It was most definitely the same shade as a fully ripen tomato.
“CAMILO!”
xxxx
The end.
Thank you for reading this story guys! I appreciate everyone who commented and hearted the parts.
If you were wanting more angst I have another on going story being written. Called 365 Days.
Its gonna be a banger sad story. So if you have the time check it out!
Thank you for all who worried enough about me over working myself! I will definitely keep that in mind :) <3
#camilo x y/n#camilo madrigal x reader#camilo madrigal#encanto#x reader#camilo x reader#dolores encanto#mirabel encanto
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Debts and balances: or how much does one man have to pay over the course of his life?
Good morning everyone! Today we’re going to be talking about debts, and why Jiang Cheng needs to shut the fuck up on debts because he is the one in the wrong pretty much the entire time.
Let’s start by acknowledging that I am not of this culture so I may perhaps state a thing or two wrong, but I also have several functioning brain cells to rub together and I pay attention so I will probably be more right than most of the “hot takes” I see on why Jiang Cheng is not actually in the wrong here. Because he is. He so is.
So, debts. First of all, there are multiple levels and layers of debts and to whom do you owe them too. So let’s start with the first one where the story is subtle about it and yet both Jiang Cheng and Madam Yu are in the wrong. We know that Cangse Sanren saved Jiang Fengmian’s life at one point when they were young. Life debts are big. To only be alive because of someone else’s actions is a debt that it is possible you will never be able to pay back. There are multiple stories of otherwise good people protecting the obvious villain because they owe that.
Jiang Fengmian’s only way of being able to pay back that debt after Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze die is to take care of their child and raise him how they would have. I.E, as a cultivator. This is not a debt that Wei Wuxian owes to the Jiangs. It is quite literally, the least of what Jiang Fengmian owes him and his parents to do.
Jiang Cheng cannot claim that Wei Wuxian owes them for his life. He is wrong.
Next debt that even Jiang Cheng does not try to claim, only his ever so pleasant stans, the fucking dogs. The fucking dogs that he does not actually give a fuck about.
Wei Wuxian does not ask anyone to do anything about the dogs. He is not in a mental state to. He is in a state of triggered phobia where his brain literally goes into run away screaming mode. This is also not funny and Jiang Cheng is a jackass for making fun of it whenever it happens. Jiang Fengmian is the one who decides that it’s better for the dogs to go. Even though Jiang Cheng is upset, he does not actually hold this as a lingering grudge against Wei Wuxian. He lets it the fuck go. And even if he didn’t, the resentment and anger should be aimed at the person who actually made a decision about it. Not Wei Wuxian. He does not give one singular fuck about his dogs later on. Let the fucking dogs go.
Third off: The Fall of Lotus Pier. There are different levels of blame that we can lay on this. Wei Wuxian is not close to responsible for this. Jiang Cheng knows this and elects to blame him anyway.
The first people we can lay the blame on the fall of Lotus Pier is the Wens, who came with ships, warriors, Wang Lingjiao to rile up the notoriously short tempered asshole Madam Yu, and Wen Zhuliu the Core-Melting Hand. They came prepared for battle and they got what they wanted. Madam Yu is the second one we can lay the blame on, for deciding to attack and demean Wang Lingjiao, not for making her do anything she didn’t want to do, because holy hell did she want to whip Wei Wuxian until he couldn’t move and leapt at the chance to do such a thing, but because Wang Lingjiao is a servant who was elevated by her lover and Madam Yu is a classist asshole. This is the only reason she flips out. Wei Wuxian did nothing wrong. Wei Wuxian does not have the blood of Lotus Pier on his hands, he is tied to Jiang Cheng and told to protect him at the cost of his life, a debt he does not owe.
The four debt he attempts to claim, the only one that might be considered to have some teeth if it weren’t for how much Wei Wuxian gives him back almost immediately. Jiang Cheng goes to distract the Wens from Wei Wuxian and ends up getting captured and losing his golden core. So first off, in this world a golden core is a lot to lose, I won’t deny that. But, first off, Wei Wuxian is only in danger because after being whipped a lot, then strangled, then having to run after Jiang Cheng multiple times because he would rather go die at Lotus Pier than listen to either of his parents and escape, he still goes into town to get them something to eat because otherwise Jiang Cheng would rather lie on the ground and die. Fucking great sect leadership there, huh Jiang Cheng? But yes, Jiang Cheng sees the Wens, sees them notice Wei Wuxian, goes off to distract them and then gets captured and loses his golden core.
Now we’re getting to some of the debts that Jiang Cheng owes and refuses to pay back, because that’s definitely going to get him far in this world. Wei Wuxian in his panic and attempt to find Jiang Cheng, finds Wen Ning, who after some struggles manages to convince him that he can sneak in and get Jiang Cheng back out. In addition, he also retrieves the bodies of Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian. This is huge. Jiang Cheng now owes him both a life debt for again, saving his life at great cost to his own: Wen Ning is literally committing treason here, and also for restoring the lost honor of not being able to bury his parents properly. Wen Ning gives them a proper burial and later after the war he is able to lie them to rest in the Ancestors Hall so their spirits will be at peace and he will have fulfilled his fillial duties. By all means, the debt he owes Wen Ning in particular is so great that he should have taken in every Wen in those camps and sheltered them because it is as close as he will ever get to repaying that debt. And that’s just Wen Ning!
The next debt he owes and refuses to pay is to Wen Qing, a genius doctor and respected by Wen Ruohan, who uses the prestige and skills she has to protect both him and Wei Wuxian in at this point enemy territory when they are being actively searched for, being the new sect leader and head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang. She hides them and then later uses her skills to give him a new golden core so that he can go and fight back against his people, revitalizing his clan and eradicating hers. This is another debt that could only really be paid back by protecting her people if she came to him. He owes her literally his life, his power and his people.
The third debt he owes and refuses to pay is to Wei Wuxian, who more than overbalances the scales back in his favor by giving him his golden core. He pays his chance at immortality, his power, his strength, his cultivation, everything that he has to his name so that Jiang Cheng won’t starve himself to death over losing his core. In addition, he tells Jiang Cheng that this comes from a once in a lifetime favor from his mother’s master so even before when he didn’t know about the core, this is still a massive, massive debt, a limitless one time favor from an immortal that he uses Wei Wuxian’s chance to get and never actually thanks him. So at this point, his own golden core as a debt starts to seem a little hollow. Either way, it’s been repaid. An action you do in service of someone else is not a weapon you get to hold over their heads for multiple lives.
Moving on! The next debt he would like to claim is that Wei Wuxian apparently has no right to do things he does not approve of. Excuse me? Is he now a computer program that crashed? What the fuck Jiang Wanyin? Wei Wuxian has less rank than him, although Jiang Cheng is so high rank in this society that he only shares his rank with three other people and there’s no one above him so it would be very hard for him to not be, but he is still a person, with his own thoughts, wishes, dreams, hopes and beliefs. He is not an extension of your hand, to make your clan look good and stand behind you as a hammer to smash on people. Wen Qing goes to Wei Wuxian to ask for help for finding her brother, her people because they are literally being tortured to death. This is a debt that by all means, Jiang Cheng should be repaying. See that part where Wen Ning committed treason to help him and restore his family’s honor? See that part where Wen Qing literally gave him the ability to go back to war against her family? This is the point where anyone with honor would recognize this is the only thing I can do. I will throw myself on my sword if I must, but I must repay this debt to them. There is nothing less I can do. But Jiang Cheng has only the honor of a mangy cur and ignores this, and when Wei Wuxian goes to fulfill this debt, he tells him to stop. To him, his multiple life debts are an inconvience to shoving his nose so far up Jin Guangshan’s ass that he’s tasting what he had for dinner that day.
The next debt that he would like to claim is the death of his brother in law. This is a debt that Wei Wuxian would owe to specific people. This debt is to Jiang Yanli, Jin Guangshan and Jin Ling, one of whom is wanting to forgive it, one who is too small to decide at the time, and one who straight up does not give a fuck beyond advancing his power. Jiang Cheng is not one of these people. His sister is fine, she’s not his concern anymore, she’s a part of the Jin sect. The only reason why he died is that Jiang Cheng decided the best way to repay his debt to Wei Wuxian was to throw a temper tantrum and declare him an enemy to everyone, ripping out every support from under his feet. Regardless, Jiang Cheng is an asshole and does not get to claim this debt.
The final one of Wei Wuxian’s first life that he keeps hurling at him is the death of his sister...the death of his sister who chose to leap between Wei Wuxian and a sword. The death of his sister at a battle that broke out because Jiang Cheng has been with Jin Guangshan whipping the cultivation world into a frenzy against the Wens and Wei Wuxian because of power and jealousy. The battle that would have not happened if they’d left them alone. Jiang Cheng has been to the burial mounds. He has seen the farmers, he has seen the baby there. He has decided that rather than do anything to repay these various deaths, he will kill them on other people’s swords instead. Because he is also a coward and won’t pick fights he can’t win. In addition he likes to steal Yanli’s agency, she’s the one who chose to come, she’s the one who chose to get in the way and she doesn’t die with regrets. And she is not his debt to claim. Again, the one who actually gets to claim this death that Wei Wuxian is not responsible for is Jin Ling, who actually shapes up and decides that it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t blame Wei Wuxian for it. He forgives him his role in that space and moves the fuck on, unlike a certain sir stabby grape mcwhipinnoencts.
And then Wei Wuxian dies and any debts he may have still owed to Jiang Cheng, not that there were any, die with him. Jiang Cheng has no claim on him, he was not part of his sect, they were not brothers in any way, indeed Jiang Cheng called him his enemy. Even most people with far more real grudges at this point would let it go. Wei Wuxian is so dead that no one can find his soul, no matter how hard they look. He comes back to life and reaps the rewards of his actions, finding new allies, getting the chance to actually interact with Jin Ling and make his apologies, and in the end, settle down to a peaceful life with an adoring husband and nothing left to be repaid. If there is still a debt he owes, it is only to Mo Xuanyu, who gave up his entire cycle of life to let Wei Wuxian reincarnate early with his memories, a sacrifice he only asked for repayment in the death of his family. He may owe more still, but that is all Mo Xuanyu wanted from him in repayment for this great sacrifice. The cultivation world is in the wrong when they’re trying to persecute him again for the actions of his previous life, he owes them nothing anymore. The debts he carries towards Jin Ling are the ones he chooses to take on, feeling guilty that he grew up without his parents due to the world’s general actions and also no one else taking responsibility for how far things fell.
That is what Jiang Cheng finally realizes in the temple, crouched on the floor and sobbing like a spoiled child over the golden core sacrifice. Is that he is in the wrong and has been in the wrong the whole time. That there is nothing he can hold onto, no debt that Wei Wuxian ever owed him that he could demand to be paid. He built it all up in his head as he left his honor, his family and his dignity in the wake of his arrogance. And it’s a painful thing to realize, the consequences of your decisions, but all he can do is live with his own ruined reputation, his own loneliness and the fact that no one wants to be around him. He’s blacklisted by multiple matchmakers, his disciples are more like thugs, Wei Wuxian chooses every opportunity to get away from him and even Jin Ling likes him less and less over the course of the book, not forgetting that he seems to prefer Jin Guangyao to begin with as he actually talks to him sometimes and doesn’t hit him. Jiang Cheng refusing to pay his debts gives him exactly what a debt deserter deserves. No one has a reason to trust him. The one bit of positive character growth he does is giving up and not trying to reel him back in by telling him of the sacrifice. At this point, all it would be is just him trying to get another debt he cannot hold because it is long since repaid, never quite made up for what they gave him to make up for it, and worthless in the face of Wei Wuxian’s new life. Wei Wuxian owes him nothing and never has.
Also, just to tally up the relationship between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng on things given between the two of them, Jiang Cheng gives him: a lot of whinging on how unfair it is that Wei Wuxian is a prodigy, and a one time immediately regretted and held over his head sacrifice of a golden core. Whereas Wei Wuxian gives him: many lessons on how to be a kinder person that he ignores, the patience and tolerance of his stinkbug attitude, his love, his affection, his fucking golden core, his reputation, his blood, his livelihood, taking over his debts, trying to keep any of his actions from reflecting on the Jiangs even though if Jiang Cheng had repaid any of the debts he owed, there would have been no problems because if the Jin’s did decide to attack, Wei Wuxian would fight back and he can level battle fields on his own, his honor, his relationships, and even his life in the end, because if Wei Wuxian had ever turned on him like he claimed, he would have been a bloody smeared spot on the ground. And Jiang Cheng gobbles this all up and demands more with Wei Wuxian’s blood and tears dribbling from his mouth.
Would you give that much for someone who doesn’t treat you well? Would you find that a reasonable price to pay for someone who demeans you at every opportunity, who tells you you deserve your misfortunes and that no one likes you? Why are you surprised that in the end Wei Wuxian would rather walk away with people who care about him, why he gives up, leaves any opportunity for anything in Jiang Cheng’s hands. Wei Wuxian has given more than any person should for almost nothing. It is a sign of triumph and victory, of recognizing his own worth and value in the world and who he wants to be with, that he leaves, that he walks away with his head held high. He owes Jiang Cheng nothing, and Jiang Cheng will just have to fucking live with that.
#mdzs#jiang cheng#canon jiang cheng#let's talk about debt#long post#let's use fuck as a exclamation mark#modaozushi is the story of walking away from an abusive relationship and we should recognize that#no yunmeng reconciliation#wei wuxian#wei wuxian did nothing wrong#addressing common misconceptions when it comes to debts to be paid#let's stop excusing Jiang Cheng avoiding paying any of his debts
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The Hard-J (Victor Creed x Reader)
A/N: I know I said it would be ready by the weekend but... it wasn’t! Excuses only work for those that make them, so I won’t bother lmao~ This one is for @queengiuliettafirstlady and everyone else that loves a little Victor Creed intensity. ♥
“Can we not do this today, please?”
“What the hell was that about?” He slammed the door after him as I went to my kitchen to put groceries away.
“He saw me walking back from the store, that’s it.”
“That’s it, huh? What did I say about hangin’ out with him?”
“We weren’t hanging out! I told you, he saw me walking and he was helping me carry a few things. That. Is it.”
“You see how he talks to me? How he’s always talked to me-“
“-I see two brothers who, for whatever reason, can’t seem to hack it.”
“We aren’t brothers.”
I rolled my eyes, shoving my peanut butter and fudge swirl ice cream into the freezer. “Brothers in arms.”
“Because there’s no damn respect! Always lookin’ down at me like he’s some kinda fuckin’ superior.”
“Vic…”
“I don’t want you around him. You hear me?”
I let out an exasperated sigh as I rolled my eyes. “It’s too hot to argue about this shit.”
“You’re the one arguing instead of just agreeing, Y/N.”
“Your relationship with Logan is just that: yours. I have no problem with the guy.”
“If I see you two together again-“
“- Do not end that sentence with a threat, Victor-“
“- I’ll do you one better and end it with a guaran-fucking-tee!”
“We live in the same city, I’m bound to run into him sometimes!”
“Y/N look at me… Hey!” He shouted, making me jump out of my skin as I gave him my undivided attention. Clearly he was serious, which he tended to be. But this time, more serious than normal.
He was always so very dead serious whenever we talked about Logan.
“I don’t care if you’re next door neighbors with him. If I see you two with each other again, it will not end well.”
“For him? Or for me?”
“Both o’ you.”
I stared him down and watched him do the same, his face cold hard steel, not even a muscle flexing as he spoke to me. “What the hell happened between you two, anyway?” I asked. “What did he do that’s so damn bad you’re forbidding me to even say hi? He kill your cat or somethin’?”
He smirked and let out a huff of a chuckle, his left fang peeking from behind his lips. “You think I’m kiddin’?”
I rolled my eyes and pushed him away from me to continue putting the food away. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. I’ll stay away from him, Victor. Whatever the hell makes-” I couldn’t finish my sentence before I heard the loud crash of glass breaking. I whipped around and saw a wet puddle dripping on my wall, the floor beneath it decorated with broken glass and what was a very nice bouquet of assorted flowers. “Are you shitting me?!”
“Oh, I got your attention now?”
“You had it! You’re throwing a temper tantrum, breaking my shit, all because you’re jealous of someone I’m not even interested in?”
“Jealous?” he questioned as he slowly stalked towards me, like a predator carefully eyeing its prey. I was no stranger to Victor's temper; under the right circumstances, he could go from settled to up in flames with the snap of a finger. Maybe it’s because he was never really at ease, always ready to pounce at any moment’s notice if necessary. Yeah, I know he has little patience and is kinda trigger happy to get into a fight, his own source of entertainment. But that was with other people, strangers. With me, he exercised a lot more restraint. We’d have arguments, he’d yell, maybe hurt a wall and then storm off.
But whenever Logan was involved, it was a different story...
“You need to relax,” I warned as I slowly backed away from him, ready to defend myself if necessary, even if I knew it was a losing battle.
“Did you just say I was jealous of him?”
“Are you?”
“What reason do I have to be jealous?”
“You tell me. What is it, Vic? You think I’m gonna run off with him into the sunset? You come over here one day to see me, all my shit is packed up and I leave a note behind? I doubt he’d throw my shit around like you just did.”
“I bought you those damn flowers,” he growled.
“You gonna buy the replacements too?” I asked playfully, trying to diffuse the tension but failing. It was painfully obvious, literally, he wasn’t in the mood to play when I felt his fist grip me like a boa constrictor. He forced my head against the kitchen cabinet behind me and got close to my face. If he moved any closer he’d be able to taste the chive cream cheese bagel I had on the way over here.
“Now that all depends…”
“Victor, let go of me. Now.”
“What’s the matter, hm? I thought you liked it rough?” he spoke with a tone of warning before a lecherous grin spread across his face. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t release a flutter deep in my belly, my incessant desire for him threatening to surface. It was embarrassing and admittedly disgusting to me, how even in moments as such, there was always going to be some shred of me that could neither ignore nor deny my constant thirst for him to satisfy me in ways only Victor knew how.
“You’ve made your point.” I tried to remain calm while fighting for air. I was willing to bet money that he could feel my pulse quickening beneath his grip. If even one of his claws came out I’d be bleeding out all over the linoleum.
“Have I?”
“You have five seconds to get the fuck off of me... or I walk.” He stared me in the eye only a few seconds longer before relinquishing his grip. If there was anything I caught on to in the seven months we’ve been seeing each other, if that’s even what you wanna call him dropping by for food, sex and quality conversation with a solid night’s rest, it’s that he actually greatly enjoyed having me in his life. He would never admit it, of course, being the poster boy for hypermasculinity; no way he’d display the level of emotion required to confess he liked me. But I picked up on it in subtle ways he probably doesn’t even notice. The way he throws his arm over me in his sleep, subconsciously keeping me in place with him. The way he came over and pretended it was just for sex, when we wouldn’t wind up having sex at all. The flowers he bought me, before throwing them to the wall in a rage. Most importantly, the way he wouldn’t stay gone long after a fight and would come back with his tail tucked in ready to apologize, afraid that would be the fight that finally scared me off and into the arms of someone else. I wasn’t using that to my advantage here, but I was letting him know what we both knew but never spoke of:
He wanted me around. He liked me.
I took a moment to allow oxygen to return to my lungs before I addressed him. “I pushed a button o’ yours with that little J-word?”
“What on Earth gave you that idea?” he asked sarcastically.
I nodded. “Fine. Noted. But I promise you, next time you use your words, because if you ever think about putting your hands on me again-”
“-Now you’re ending sentences with threats?”
“Guarantees, right?” I stalked to the corner of the kitchen and grabbed the broom that was wedged between the wall and my fridge then slammed it into his chest. “Dust pan behind the fridge,” was all I said before making my way to the bedroom.
“We’re not done-”
“-I am.” The moment I turned the corner out of the kitchen he was following me, the broom loudly clapping against the kitchen floor. The same hand that was just wrapped tightly around my throat was now finding its way around my waist along with his other one, pressing me to the wall. “Victor-“
“-I’ll getcha new flowers.”
“Fuck the flowers and fuck you.” He wasn’t hearing any of it. He grabbed my wrists and began making his way to the couch, my legs clumsily bumping into any and everything I walked towards.
“I’m not gonna pour my heart out an’ tell you all the fucked up things about me, if that’s what you’re waitin’ for me to do.”
“Mutant in human world. It’s not hard to figure out.”
“And I’m not tellin’ you the textbook of reasons I’m not holdin’ hands with him either.”
“And I’m not agreeing to stay away from him for your reasons and personal grudges unknown.”
“So maybe I didn’t make myself as clear as I thought.” Before I was aware the back of my legs bumped into the arm of my couch. I was desperate to create some sort of distance between us, so I fell backwards and wiggled away to the far opposite end of the couch. He stood at my feet and without breaking eye contact, lifted the loose black henley from his chest. He was possibly the only person I knew that could wear black and long sleeves in the peak of a summer in the city without breaking a sweat. But now wasn’t the time to be impressed by minor things.
“It’s too hot for this, too.”
“You tellin’ me no?”
“Yes!”
“Why?” he asked as he continued advancing in my direction, fumbling with the belt on his jeans as he kicked his shoes off.
“Because I don’t feel like it. You’re not about to makeup sex your way out of putting your hands on me, dick.”
He shrugged to himself. “You never turned it down before.”
“Well, you know what they say the definition of insanity is, right…”
“Doin’ the same shit, expecting different results.”
“And I want different results, Victor.”
“Fine. So let’s try somethin’ different.” Without a word or warning he bent down and scooped me up, a hand firmly resting under each of my thighs, my legs snaked around his waist. I thought he was headed towards the bedroom, but he took a surprising left turn to the apartment balcony, gripping me tightly before using a hand to open the sliding glass door. The humidity instantly smothered me, my glasses fogging from the shock of being exposed to the summer heat after leaving my air conditioned living room. He sat in one of the wicker seats of my patio set and placed me in his lap, lifting my sundress so I could straddle him free of obstruction. He placed me directly onto his cock and was not gentle about it; my head instantly fell back as a rush of air escaped my chest, my hands finding his neck.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
“Exactly.”
“Shut the hell up.” There was no time for playful banter. The sun had only just started to set, meaning there was still plenty daylight for us to be seen; this had to be quick. And quiet. Quiet would be the hard part without a doubt. With his help, I lifted my body up and down, his fingertips digging into my hips as he held tightly to my waist. “Holy shit, Vic.”
“Still think I’m jealous?”
I grinned to myself. “I dunno; you’re fuckin’ me like you got somethin’ to prove,” I teased. Clearly there was jealousy but I knew better than to answer him with a yes. But if jealousy is this good a sexual motivator, I’d be happy with this silver lining to our fight. He lifted my dress up more, enough for him to expose my tits and seize my right one with his mouth. My head fell back, a cry escaping me when I felt the sharp stab of his teeth on the mound of flesh. “Fuck!” He growled, his mouth vibrating slightly around my nipple.
“Ya still gonna run away and leave a note?” he asked, the heat from his mouth making toes curl.
“Never.” Unless he pushed me to it, of course.
I felt the pads of his fingertips press my scalp, my hair tightly intertwined in his digits as he pulled my head back and forced me to make eye contact. “Don’t threaten to walk again.”
I rolled my eyes. “Or else?” I mocked.
He shook his head, his pelvis ceasing, the rapid rise and fall of our chests the only movement remaining between us. “No. Just don’t.”
I stared at him a moment longer and simply nodded before standing and turning around, lifting my dress over my head, then taking the rusty balcony rail in my hands to steady myself. I turned to look at him; to my surprise he was already stroking himself in the absence of something else warm wrapped around his cock. “Whatcha waitin’ for?”
“Can’t enjoy the view?”
“Enjoy it any longer and I’m gonna melt.”
“Someone other than me hungry for it?” he said with a hard slap to my right cheek before roughly re-entering from behind, making me jerk forward into the hot metal rail. I grunted at the pain in effort not to be too loud and settled comfortably on him, my body fitting him like a glove. He was in no way gentle as he thrust himself in and out of me, primal grunts escaping his chest every time his hips rammed into my ass. My tits would surely be bruised the way I was uncomfortably pressed into the railing. I stared at the rusted and flaking metal coating of the bars beneath my arms and fought to keep my legs from collapsing beneath me, every bone in my limbs turning to apple sauce, my muscles sore and aching. If only this kind of workout kept me in shape and was doctor recommended. And quiet as I was, there was nothing I could do to muffle the loud smack that echoed in the air when Victor got slap happy, or the sound that came from my mouth as a result. The funny thing was, the more I tried to shush him, the more intensely he fucked me, and the more sound we both ended up making.
“Sss, holy fuck! Fuck fuck fuck, Vic! Shit!” I cried out, the restraint I had for my volume loosening. On a slower day I would have had a bit more self control, but I never lasted long, or quietly, when he was in a more animalistic mood.
“Mm, that’s right,” he grunted, digging his fingers into my hip bones. “Lemme have it, baby.” And before I knew it I did exactly that. My legs gave out beneath me and I fell to my knees, failing to hold myself up on the balcony railing any longer as I came. My moans were beyond stifling, and I felt nothing else, not even the pools of sweat pouring out of me. For just a moment I’d fallen into a deep well of ecstasy, my head throbbing from the mix of summer heat and pleasure, before I regained some composure to return the favor.
I grabbed the thin cushion from my patio chair and placed it at his feet and knelt before him, taking him into my mouth as deep as I could. As hungrily as I could. Without hesitation his hands flew to my head, cradling the back of my skull and maneuvering me to a pace of his pleasure. “Atta girl,” he encouraged. He knew I was a sucker for praise, and after being a complete asshole I was expecting him to lay it on with the ass kissing for the rest of the evening. Now he had me working like I was the jealous one, when really I was only in competition with myself; I wanted to see if I could make him cum quicker than any of the other times I did this. I worked my head in a swivel and both of my hands in opposing twisting motion, pulling him into me as far as I could without biting off more than I could chew. It was useless, however, since Victor was determined to push my head down way past my limits. His hips undulated as he thrust his dick deeper and deeper into my throat. He’d momentarily pause and hold his place before pulling out to allow me to draw air, all before repeating the process. “Look at me,” he demanded, which was all he needed to say for me to know what time it was. I stared upwards at him with his cock still in my mouth, my eyes glassy with tears, and he pushed himself deep into my throat one final time and pumped the tip of his dick at the back of my throat. He held eye contact for as long as he could before his head fell backwards, eyes slamming shut as I felt the muscles of his thighs tighten. He grunted a low, beastlike growl before I felt him release all he had to offer in my throat, the sensation slightly tickling. I slowly jerked his dick off for good measure to ensure I got him for every drop before swallowing the thick, sticky fluid, swirling my tongue around his tip before he removed himself from my mouth.
“Ah, Jesus fuck,” he sighed, his chest rising and falling as he tried to recover.
“I think I missed that Sunday school lesson.” He rolled his eyes and looked down at me, head still resting in his lap, before rising and extending a hand. I grabbed and he pulled me up, coming face to face with him and the wild grin plastered on his face. “Back inside before my ass gets covered in bug bites.”
“I could scratch it for ya,” he offered, running a claw harmlessly up my spine. I shivered and pushed away from him before round two threatened to begin, sliding the balcony door open, relieved once the ice cold air conditioning hit my chest.
“No thanks. But you absolutely can buy me another bouquet of flowers. And a vase, while you’re at it.”
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I am once more begging people, BEGGING, to at least READ Batman #416 if you’re going to cite every moment of Dick meeting Jason and then blowing up at Bruce, except in a totally ‘that’s not at all how it happened’ kinda way.
If I have to read ONE MORE sizzling hot take about how Dick blew up at Bruce and stormed off at the end of that encounter, when THIS is how it ACTUALLY ended....
Ah yes, the famous Dick Grayson temper, better described as ‘someone else loses their shit at Dick and fandom twists it into the exact opposite so he’s actually the bad guy all along.’
Was Dick heated before that point? Yup. Did he have reason to be? Also yup. Did Bruce, however, have reason to be heated that Dick had the gall to be coming back to his childhood home to confront him about the fact that after eighteen months of not speaking, when Bruce is the one who CHOSE to not even say goodbye to Dick or make any effort to still make a place for Dick in his life after firing him, with the only possible indication in all that time through which Dick was expected to come up with even an INKLING that Bruce missed him was discovering from reading the paper that Bruce had given his old mantle to a new, even younger partner? Its gonna be a big fat NOPE from me, guys.
There’s an exchange between them a few pages before this that always resonated with me....
Bruce: The truth is, I taught you everything I could. It was time for you to step out on your own.
Dick: So you figured the best thing for you to do was drive me out of your life, right? That’s exactly what you do to anyone who gets too close. Always hurt them before they have a chance to hurt you. It didn’t matter to you that I didn’t have any life other than the one we shared.
Like, I can not express any more clearly why it drives me so B-A-N-A-N-A-S to see people spin this so that it was Bruce that was somehow the victim of his son’s tempestuous, nomadic ways. Like he was somehow left behind, that Dick outgrew him or moved on, and everything Dick felt about Robin after the fact was him throwing spoiled temper tantrums that someone dared pick up something he no longer wanted. Umm. No times infinity and beyond.
Bruce was the one with all the power. Bruce was the one making all the choices. All Dick had, at most, was the choice to either stay somewhere Bruce seemed intent on driving him away from, or go somewhere else. This issue clearly expressed that like. Bruce wasn’t open to talking. Not when he fired Dick as Robin, there was no negotiating that, and even throughout this whole encounter here, where Dick comes here and says “I think you owe me some explanations” because based on everything Bruce was doing and how radically opposed those actions are to the last interactions he and Bruce had, which had a HUGE impact on Dick’s life, yes, he WAS owed explanations here, make no mistake....even here, Bruce spends the whole encounter acting like he’s being unfairly interrogated, like its trying his patience to even have to deal with Dick being there at all....
Phones work two ways, Bruce. There’s two people in this dynamic. If you haven’t heard from Dick in eighteen months, its equally true that he hasn’t heard from you in eighteen months. And if you missed him so damn much, you know what was always a perfectly valid way to express that, which DIDN’T involve anyone else? Picking up the damn phone and calling Dick and telling him that.
Bruce acts like that was never even an option, like HE was the one stuck with limited choices based on Dick’s behavior throughout all this time, and that’s just flat out, unconditionally, one hundred percent, NOT TRUE. Bruce was the one in charge. The one calling the shots. The one with the resources, the power, the authority. Dick was ALWAYS the one who had more to lose, of the two of them.
And Bruce knew all this when he took Dick in. He knew all this when he took Robin away from Dick while the latter was still a teenager, still living at home. And he was the one who failed to even so much as OFFER Dick an alternative take on how he could still be there, still be in Bruce’s life, part of his family, still share in being part of his life, the life the two of them had shared, now that Bruce had made the choice that Dick no longer had the option of living out his part of that life in the manner they’d BOTH built up for him originally.
And yet for so many years, fandom has added insult to injury by acting like the cherry on top here, Bruce giving away the very mantle he took from Dick, like this was somehow completely reasonable because in comparison, Dick is the one being unreasonable. People completely gloss over that little act of Bruce’s to focus instead on how Dick reacted, instead of giving that betrayal of trust its own fair due and focus, and the problem is....they don’t even actually focus on how Dick actually acted! Again, notice it was Dick who approached Bruce, and Bruce who told Dick to leave. It was Dick who had actual cause to be angry, but Bruce who blew up and broke shit because Dick dared demand answers.
And this is the way Dick leaves things with Jason, btw. I know people know this part by now, mostly at least, about the phone number and such, but how many people have actually SEEN how that played out rather than just heard it summarized in a dry recitation of events that underplays just how that interaction went?
Like, that wasn’t just Dick acting like this was being FORCED upon him and bleeding reluctance at every turn. He went above and fucking beyond to make Jason feel welcomed and secure in his position as Robin. But that’s not how the narrative goes in fandom, is it? Even when acknowledging this part, people act like Dick was at most doing the bare minimum, instead of acknowledging that Dick didn’t owe anyone this at all. No, it wasn’t Jason’s fault he became Robin, but NONE of this was Dick’s fault, Dick’s choice, or Dick’s RESPONSIBILITY. He wasn’t living at home, in Bruce’s life, and he wasn’t adopted yet let alone even still Bruce’s ward at this point. He’d aged out at eighteen. Dick had NO actual ties to Bruce and by extension Jason at this particular moment in time, and thus no ACTUAL obligations to either of them, no matter how much fandom harps on him having failed Jason as a brother back during this time when more accurately, Bruce was actively failing Dick as a father - as in not even being one, but Dick’s responsibilities towards a family he didn’t have at the moment are supposed to be still intact? NOPE. Don’t think so.
But Dick, INSTEAD, puts Jason FIRST, puts him OVER his obviously hurt and bitter feelings to focus on what’s best for Jason here, and gives him literally everything he CAN to do right by Jason here. He gives Jason his own old costume and clear approval, cementing Jason’s place as Robin in a way not even Bruce could when giving it to Jason, because it was never Bruce’s to actually pass on. Jason even wonders earlier in the issue if Dick might want his old role back, and Dick puts that fear to rest, without any hesitation or doubt.
In addition, Dick offers up support and solidarity he doesn’t owe Jason, doesn’t owe anyone, because its HIS time, HIS support, its not something someone can take for granted and yet too many people do....especially considering that in the hyper-fixation on how much support and time Dick supposedly DIDN’T offer or grant Jason, most people pay next to no attention to the fact that it wasn’t like Dick was being given time or support by Bruce, ie Dick is going out of his way to offer stuff he’s not even getting himself, because he RECOGNIZES from that what its like not to have it. Basically what I mean is all that talk about Dick being a hypocrite for doing to others what he complains about Bruce not doing for him? Patently untrue, as we see here, because this is Dick actively acting upon what he’s missing out on by making sure that others don’t miss out on it because of Bruce’s failings or emotional repression.
And look at the end result.....Jason’s enjoying his teamup with Dick, these aren’t two people who look pained at being forced into proximity or acting like the other is a burden to be around or thinking the other doesn’t really want to be here. They were comfortable from practically the word go, because Dick knows how to make people uncomfortable but he also knows how to make people comfortable, and he made the CHOICE, the INTENT to make sure he was someone Jason felt WANTED to be there with him, the complete opposite of someone who is taking out their bitterness or resentment on their replacement or at least not trying to hide it very well.
So my question is.....what the hell else is it people wanted Dick to do? When they cite this issue specifically, at least, when they talk about the time Dick went to Gotham to confront Bruce about Robin, when they talk about the phone number or the costume or the teamup or the things that so often get mentioned in passing like they’re insignificant or the bare minimum or mere formalities that do nothing to take away from all the supposed OTHER asshole behavior that Dick allegedly heaped on Jason despite never actually happening anywhere, even a little bit, and thus that some people claim is just an extrapolation of how Dick PROBABLY acted off the page, given his clear resentment and jealousy....umm. Huh? Based off THIS? Seriously, I mean it. What ELSE was Dick supposed to have done, to counter that take, what else could he POSSIBLY have done to do right by Jason here, that he didn’t actually already do? What exactly did people want from this character, in order to not hold this eternal grudge they have against him for what a big old jerk he was to Jason, who did nothing to deserve it - with that part being true at least, and literally WHY Dick made the point to recognize that and not take out his feelings on Jason?
Like, this will never not be an axe for me to grind because like. The SPIN fandom always gives all this, when look at the last page of this issue......Bruce is watching from a distance, and even he’s like thanks Dick, and that honestly bugs me so much. Because in the end, the only one of these three characters who DIDN’T get what he wanted here, was Dick. Jason got the validation and security as Robin he was looking for, the approval of his predecessor, and words of advice and an offer to listen and be there should he ever want to talk. Bruce got Dick’s validation of the actions Bruce took that he had no right to take when giving his old mantle to Jason, but that Dick ratified all the same, even if it was for Jason’s sake and not Bruce’s. Bruce still got the closure on that particular mistake of his, with the evidence that Dick was willing to see past it for Jason’s sake rather than drag it out....like. Dick is the only one who didn’t get what he was looking for there, he didn’t even get an apology from Bruce for overstepping when he passed on Dick’s mantle, an acknowledgment that this was WRONG, the most Dick got was Bruce admitting for a single panel that he missed him.....before telling Dick to leave and get out and effectively taking back anything Dick could have possibly taken away from that admittance. Because what the fuck does it matter if someone misses you if even though they finally have you right there in front of them, they still tell you to leave again anyway?
In conclusion, I hate this issue, lol, because everybody seems to know what’s in it and yet practically nobody ever seems interested in referencing what’s ACTUALLY in it. Instead just forever playing telephone with the most bad faith interpretation of Dick’s actions possible.
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Thank you for the Eddie Kingston story I asked for ❤!
Could I get one with Wardlow saving the reader from MJF yelling and berating her for costing himba match? Could it possibly be 2 parts with Wardlow and the reader falling in love?
We Found Love (Part 1)
Wardlow x f/Reader
Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.
Gifs & photos do not belong to me.
Warnings: Some swearing. Angst and fluff.
I had fun writing the Eddie one. Hope you like this.
Main Masterlist ♡ AEW Masterlist ♡ Wardlow Masterlist
Summary: f/Reader is MJFs assistant & Wardlow can't stand the way he treats her.
Wardlow's POV:
I wasn't even in the same room and I could hear Max just losing it on his assistant Y/N, who probably didn't do anything wrong.
Y/N is a kind, sweet woman who truly should of quit by now for the way how he treats her.
She does everything perfect for him but he always seems to find one tiny problem. The most ridiculous one was once she e-mailed him his schedule and according to him, it wasn't the correct font.
When he said that, my eyes widened in astonishment and all she did was apologise and re-send it once more with the same font but this time bolded.
"You are going to be with me next to the ring Y/N." He said to her in a calmer tone when he saw me walk into the room.
"But Mr. Friedman I was hired as your assistant. You told me I have to work for you behind the scenes."
"Well I changed my mind. You're now going to be my valet, now go put on the outfit I had made for you." He said as he pointed to the clothes bag that was hanging up.
Y/N quickly grabbed it left the room.
"What are you doing Max?"
"What? I needed a valet and why not Y/N?"
"No seriously, what are you doing to her? Why can't you just leave her alone?" I asked him as I crossed my arms in front of my chest.
"What I decide to do with the people I hired to work for me is my business, not yours." The little shit said as he poked me in the chest.
The two of us had a stare down for a few minutes and I left the room. When I saw Y/N walking back towards me in the outfit, I felt my breath get caught in my throat.
She looked absolutely breathtaking, I mean I have always found her gorgeous but how am I supposed to stand next to her tonight and keep up my facade?
This is going to be on hard night and tonight is the one he has a match against Chris.
It was now time for us to walk out. I could tell how nervous Y/N was and my heart was breaking for.
She didn't want to be out infront of this crowd but he is forcing her. Once his entrance music came on, Max walked out first.
"You know you don't have to do this." I said softly to her as we started to walk behind him.
"He told me I had to do it or I would lose my job and I need this job." She said back to me. The two of us walked behind Max and joined him in the ring.
Now the match has started and I know I was supposed to help the little shit but after the way how he has been treating Y/N, I couldn't.
Max lost and he was furious. After he got changed, he decided to start throwing stuff around in the locker room, including items that were not his. He was screaming and yelling his head off.
But that wasn't enough for him.
He had to take his anger out on someone and he made a beeline straight for Y/N.
"You're the reason why I lost this match! You kept distracting me with your outfit and you even distracted Michael!"
"But sir, you picked out the outfit and my hairstyle." Y/N said calmly, which I have no idea how she is even calm.
I could feel my anger rising, but I kept it at bay, and just stood there and stared at Max as he continued to throw a massive temper tantrum.
But he went back to Y/N and started to scream in her face. A few tears that she was holding back finally fell and I lost.
The next thing I knew I was lifting Max up by the collar of his shirt. He was kicking his feet back in forth and trying to get out of my grip. Would of been funny if I wasn't furious.
"Leave her the fuck alone Max."
He had the audacity to have a smirk on his face. "She is my assistant."
"And she is a human being. Y/N, you're not working for him anymore. You're working for me."
I felt her arms wrap around my waist and her body flush against my back.
"Thank you Michael." I heard.
I dropped Max on the floor and he scrambled to get up. "We have a contract Y/N."
"I quit working for you. I work for Michael now." Was all I heard as she was still hugging me.
"Let's go Y/N." I said as I grabbed our bags and her hand and left Max in the locker room, wondering what the hell just happened.
No one talks back to Maxwell Jacob Friedman and Y/N L/N just did.
Part 2
Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @lghockey @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @kawaiikels @ecarroll1978
#aew#all elite wrestling#reader imagine#reader insert#female reader#aew wrestling#wardlow imagine#wardlow x reader#mike wardlow#michael wardlow#wardlow#wardlow x you#x reader#reader
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My Vow to You
A/N: Dragon King!Bakugo has my heart and so I wrote a little something based off a dream I had awhile ago. I like writing Bakugo with a spouse that’s just as much of a hardass as he is :’) I’m not sure if I’ll make a part two. This could stand alone butttt we’ll see.
Important things to note:
~*Aurea: It means golden in Latin. This is your family name that is used in public. Even though you’re married to Bakugo, I made it tradition that you keep your last name for distincition purposes, but you’re a Bakugo when I addressed elswhere. That’s based off something from my own culture. Also, it’d be kind of weird if Bakugo said his own name lmao. You’ll get it as you read.
~*You and Bakugo have dragon-like traits? Idk man. I just thought the red eyes and fangs added flare.
Word Count: 1.6k
Pairing: Bakugo x Fem!Reader
Warnings: blood, injury, death, there’s a severed head in there but the description isn’t gory, cursing
All Characters are 18+
My Vow to You:
You remembered the day you were wedded to your husband. It was one of the most treasured days between both the Crimson and Golden Tribes. A day so powerful and glorious in meaning that it was named the Holy Matrimony of the era.
That day, two of the most powerful tribes in the nation joined in hand to rule. Their people prospered, their land grew rich, their army went by the hundreds, and best of all, this would happen out of true love.
There was no contract—no arrangement. The only reason the two tribes had encountered was to trade. When you and Katsuki had first met during the primary meeting, the next day, he brought you his most precious stone to begin courting. From then on, it was like destiny took ahold of the reigns. At the wedding, you wore it proudly upon the crest of your head.
The dress, the decorations, and the gifts were all beautiful, but nothing could compare to the sight of your groom. When the warriors parted, revealing his path to the alter, you almost forgot how to walk.
Matching ceremonial tattoos were painted across his bare arms and chest. He stood tall under the weight of precious stones of ruby and gold and led the length of his white fur coat across the floor. And despite his heavenly appearance, his crimson eyes, full of love, regard, and dignity were what led your feet to stand before him.
Katsuki was as gorgeous as he was powerful. There was a moment of reverie between the two of you before you both kneeled, bowing your heads when the past Kings and Queens walked to the alter.
You remembered when you shared your vows, words of strength to affirm the sacred bond the two of you would never break. When you both spoke, each word was a threaded swear into the other’s heart. From that moment, you were not two, but one. You were no longer just a couple, but a union. Once the religious leaders had said their prayer, you two shared a kiss, anointing the other with the love you were ready to boundlessly give.
That promise was seared into your heart. You would act on it every second you were married.
So, even as your guards worriedly rushed you into the infirmary, blood dripping from the open wounds on your body, you wickedly grinned in triumph. No one would be able to take this away from you.
Not that foreign king. Not his weak ass army. Not your worried parents.
And certainly not your raging husband.
“What the hell were you thinking? Damn it, Aurea*! You could’ve been killed!” he roared.
Honestly, he looked worse for wear. If it wasn’t the dark circles underneath his eyes, it was the obvious stiffness in his neck. Apparently, he had been at your bedside every minute during your three-day coma. He was worried to say the least. Bless his heart.
You tried to lighten the mood with a smile. “Aww, you do care. How kind of you, my beau~”
Evidently, the joke wasn’t appreciated. Katsuki’s face soured into an expression only a mother could love. His eye twitched and the guards winced.
“You want me to put you back in your shitty coma?”
“Bakugo, I’m fine,” you sighed, relenting to the seriousness of the situation. “I know you’re worried, but I made it out. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“That’s beside the point!” he snapped. Perhaps you wouldn’t have felt so attacked if it weren’t for the harsh glare he gave you. “I told you the Black Fleet was dangerous and yet you still acted foolishly! If Kirishima hadn’t found you—“
“I endangered no one—“
“No one but yourself, and that’s what you fail to understand!”
Despite your conscious telling you to calm down, his scolding got the better of you. And your temper rose like an ugly beast. “And if it were for the safety of you and any one of our people, I’d do it again; because when they threatened to put your head on a platter, it was personal! I won’t be scolded like a child for doing my duties as Queen!”
In better circumstances, Bakugo would’ve treaded lightly. He would’ve empathized with your sentiment. However, he had done nothing but stare at your bloody bandages and bruises for the past three days and his patience with just about everything ran thin.
“And I’m doing mine as King! If I tell you to stay away, what I fucking say goes!”
“I don’t know what kind of women you dealt with before me, but if you think that you can just order me around like some bitch, you’ve chosen the wrong woman to marry,” you seethed.
Bakugo’s furious scream thundered the hall and the guards jumped as his fist hit the wall. “ARGH! FUCK Y/N! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME!?”
The use of your personal name in the presence of guards made you reel. Now he was just being disrespectful.
“YOU ARE NOT MY MASTER!” you shouted.
His eyes glowed with rage as he grew in size, a feat that would’ve sent anyone running. “NO, BUT I AM YOUR HUSBAND!” he boomed.
Your eyes turned to blood and fangs shot out from your lips as you roared, “AND I AM YOUR WIFE!”
Katsuki tried to subdue you with an intimidating growl, abnormally large canines bared towards you. However, you only matched it with your own. There was an intense moment between you two as your energies nearly bubbled over. However, one of the nurses at your bedside reminded you of your injuries.
“Please, my queen. If you’re not careful, you could reopen your wounds,” they softly spoke.
The gentle hand on your abdomen reminded you of the ache. You winced and sighed away the sizzling anger as you were led back into the comfort of the cot. The weight of your husband’s glare fell upon you for a moment more before he frustratingly blew out of his nose and turned on his heel, out the door.
Once the door slammed shut, you rolled your eyes. If he wanted to throw a tantrum, then so be it.
“Ungrateful brat,” you muttered. Just then, a sharp pain shot up your leg from one of the nurses changing your bandages. “Ow!”
They shrunk back and gave you a shy smile. “My apologies, your highness,” they giggled.
Despite your sour attitude, you just huffed a laugh from your nostrils. “Careful there,” you sighed. They ducked their head again in slight embarrassment and went back to tending to your wound with a softer hand.
The silence gently settled in the air as the atmosphere returned to its once lax state. When the nurses had finished patching you up and left you and the guards stationed in your room, you found yourself finally able to process the harsh exchange of words between you and your husband.
You couldn’t believe he would just order you around like that! Talking to you as if he didn’t know the type of woman he had been married to for the last five years. And to use your first name in the presence of non-family members? Mitsuki would have his head if she knew!
Regardless of that, you thought back to when you two truly lost your cool and frowned. You hated acting out of character, especially in front of a crowd, but you couldn’t help it. His words were an insult to your pride and abilities.
He was being ridiculous. You were the Dragon King and Queen, damn it. The fiercest rulers the earth would know, governing over two tribes with armies that sent shivers down their enemy’s spines at the mention of your name. And just as their people stood strong, their leaders were stronger, and that meant protecting their honors to no bounds.
When the enemy sent your kingdom a severed head of a deceased warrior as a threat to have Bakugo’s next, there was nothing left to be said. You saw your chance to humble your foe and took it. And you succeeded. That should’ve garnered celebration, not a dispute.
You carefully turned on your side and noted your crown with the lone jewel he gifted you before you courted. Memories of your spoken vows ran across your mind and reinforced the stubbornness in your heart. You remembered the way his eyes, brighter than any precious stone, glowed with pride and love as he swore his life over to protect you by any means necessary.
You could still feel the warm squeeze he gave your hands when you repeated those same words back to him.
So if it was an apology he wanted, then tough luck. You wouldn’t apologize for defending his honor.
Not when you knew he’d do the same for you.
#bnha bakugo x reader#barbarian!bakugo#dragon king!bakugo#katuski bakugo#bakugo katsuki x reader#bnha fics#mha fics#bnha oneshot
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