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unhinged-comics-screaming · 6 months

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⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ Weekly Bravern Madness Post ₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

Episode 11 Spoilers ahead, naturally

I'm actually on my second watch since we found out our water heater is leaking so that was a whole thing so not quite first impressions but that's literally me screencapping every scene and screaming so probably better this way

Okay important things about me to consider for my lens as I go through this

I think Isami is so so so cute. I'll probably make a cute Isami screencaps post as a separate thing. His gap moe is so cute. I love his stern face. I think Smith is great too but I love the focus reshifting to Isami. Anyway. He's so cute

In terms of Smith as Bravern I guess I view it as the reverse too? I don't really know how to explain it but I guess in Japanese there's tags for Smith + Isami (Sumiisa) and Bravern + Isami (Braisa?) and in my head it's all Sumiisa. Like he may look like a giant robot but he's still Smith, if that makes sense.

Second watch bonuses: realizing why she reacts this way at his mention ;-;

Right away, I guess I got my beach episode! I love that Isami and Lulu have Bravern brand summer clothes. I hope they come out as merch. It comes up rarely eg. the boxing shoes from ep 5 have the (Burn?) Bravern specific emblem on them and I just think it's so cute. Like yeah Bravern probably printed them just for these instances and I wish we got enough show to see it in action.

I actually got so emotional at the end of episode 9 when the OP starts playing without the lyrics and this showing up with the ED music is phenomenal. Extra delicious that it starts with part of the full version of the ED that's not in the normal ending.

I also love this because the other two emotional moments where it's like, starting something but not completing it are the after boxing scene and when Isami is crying into Lewis' shirt (okay this can easily be assumed to fill out as "I wanted the two of us to save the world together" but what else did you want to do with hiiiiim). The shipper mind wants to fill it in with some love confession and then!!!

After the like, back and forth name stuff (which parallels the Lulu + Superbia fusion) I was like, pre-emptively bracing for some kind of goofy baiting/played for laughs thing but no he goes for it!!

I actually have a collection of any instance of Isami with any amount of coloring on his cheeks and I've been lamenting that the only full blush moments are when he gets the asian flush drinking but aaaaah so cute. Also he looks so young here! He's 24 he should be falling in love!

Also I'm like, actually really impressed about this scene technically because It's just a really good looking turnaround animation. With Bravern he's 3D so whatever but isami looks good from every angle!

The artist who adds the extra effects like bloom and color tweaks on scenes occasionally tweets out their before and afters and I really hope we get this scene where they point out they added plush, kissable lips onto Bravern.

I reblogged a post about it but I do really love that Isami isn't like, disgusted or pushing him away or anything. Not even grateful Lulu interrupted it. Maybe he's actually disappointed she interrupted.

I know it sets ups the symbolic washing away of it but in case there was any ambiguity to the nature of this love:

There's some discussion across japanese twitter about how you're not supposed to do some line in the middle but based on some cursory stuff I'm not sure how common that thought process is. Also Bravern isn't that much of a pro in Japanese culture (even a lot of JP twitter was confused at his proud "This is OMIAI!").

If you aren't involved in Twitter, a comment people like to point out is that they specifically hired a Food Coordinator for this episode lol. I took a bunch of caps of it but between this and Isami's "we need to eat to be strong enough to save everyone" talk I need to do my Dunmeshi + Bravern food as strength and love post.

Anyway I'm obsessed with the fact that Bravern doesn't need to eat but actually has a mouth which reminds me of this tweet my sister brought to me

Naturally, his mouth is for kissing, Among other things.

Okay honestly the food bit is so weird I was kind of worried the entire first half of the episode turns out to be a dream sequence.

I need to set this as my desktop background or something. I think it's really cute that they added/implied that Isami and Bravern are now a cutesy couple rather than Isami being all weird about the love confession.

THIS! Is the point in the post I realize that watching while typing these up leads to me just doing a play by play which isn't really much of anything. I promise the rest of the post isn't just as long even though we're only halfway through the episode.

(Hey, timeskip OP here. This might be a lie)

Lulu + Superbia symbol! It's cute and has a really nice mix of being similar but opposite in it's own way.

I am obsessed with Segnitas being too lazy to fight and honestly I think he's so cute. The interrupting the fusion is kinda expected for a a show with every bit being in universe but it's still a good gag. I'm glad he is around to make commentary until his true death.

I kind of expected the Bravern + Superbia fight to be an episode 2 thing but I guess we won't have the time for that given the end of this episode. Triple shoutout to my Wednesday post by having the "You can get fulfillment from living!", seeing a callback to Lulu's kick and basically having an awesome fight.

Okay ending time. I have a lot of thoughts but one of the ones as I was watching was just.. He can't eat but he can bleed (and cry)? Actually considering that he explodes it's probably oil or something. Like obvs he isn't going to explode into purple triangles like everyone else but oofda. I am all sorts of sad about this but one thing that gets me is that Bravern doesn't even die fighting! It was a stealth attack!

There's some theories that Isami has a change of heart too fast and this might be another time loop, which I think would be on brand but man his reaction to Bravern dying is too much there's at least no way it's because of a Bravern dying bad end. Actually, I wonder if the damage to Bravern's core is worse than we can tell? Lulu bad end looks way worse though. Or maybe hypothetical Isami time travel route is -> they don't fight Superbia -> defeat one more death drive -> Superbia realizes he doesn't get his warrior death -> he takes on the last Deathdrive 1v1, dies -> remaining DD dies somehow but Superbia is still gone -> Isami goes back to save him for Lulu (they can't risk double time looping her?) -> doesn't ever experience Bravern dying so this is new and terrible.

In this case, Ira is acting unpredictably specifically because they do the no-kill route with Superbia. He's evidently super disgusted and I wonder if it's because its the peaceful resolution between the two? Otherwise I'm curious why else. Actually in general I'm curious why everyone is so personal with Bravern but I think we've all been asking that.

I think some people mentioned it on Twitter but Lulu very casually mentions her time travel lived experiences so it would be weird if they didn't know Bravern himself enabled it. Like I mentioned in my other post. He literally can't take on two giant mechs without Bravern and he knows for sure Superbia can't take on someone.

It's interesting that Bravern has different final words in this timeline than Lulu bad end but he also probably never had that stargazing scene in that route. Actually, you know what, I think Lulu bad end he does know it's Lulu because I don't think Isami was there for the specific curry scene we saw. He's still crying, naked in Bravern during that. Unless he just talks about Japanese curry all the time where we don't see.

Smith's last words are specifically "Brave Bang" (yuuki bakuhatsu) vs Bravern's "Brave Burn" and I'm basically Pepe Silvia-ing it up trying to figure out what it means. It's not really a direct confession about being Smith (because he's still a coward in that regard) but maybe it's a secret move/activation considering the moves are in English?

I think any kind of extra finale speculation requires its own post but that's my thoughts!

hm. Sorry. Maybe I should get into writing fanfic so you at least get something out of this

#bravern spoilers #can I use the no beta we die like fools tag on a poorly done essay #I didn't even really analyze the episode tbh #11/10 it's good thats all you need to know #the first best time to watch bravern is as its airing for the theorizing #the second best time is now

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yuelun · 7 months

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This will one day be a much larger post (I've already started working on it) as thoughts and details settle, but I wanted to make some quick notes (who am I kidding, this won't be a short post) here so that you guys know where my thoughts are. Just as I personally also ascribe (though I do not assume people to do the same, of course!) to the theory of ZL being a Sun-King (and potential brother to) alongside King Deshret and then Remus and/or Decarabian for numerous reasons after personally researching it myself, I also am being faced with too many coincidences when it comes to Guizhong possibly being one of the three moon sisters (or at the very least, a Seelie), who I believe to be part of a 'Seven' alongside the aforementioned four Sun-kings. Which, if the returning and reinforced leaks of Guizhong's likelihood of playability is to even be roughly taken as a possibility, then there needs to be reason for it. There's a popular theory that the Moon Sisters were shades of the Primordial One alongside Istaroth, if that is true, there may be reason in there to bring her back (even for the Tsaritsa), considering I feel like a big endgame next to the arc of Khaenri'ah, is/will be a faceoff with Celestia. Any way, this is a little incoherent, but let me put down a little list of things I want to touch on, but just can't write the full post of yet. These are just my little (ha!) thoughts.

Edit: Nevermind, it got long, it's very long, but if you like your lore and you're interested in knowing how looney deep I went with this, keep on reading! I will however, be making more parts to this as I continue on and gather lore bits. I also like documenting my journey of meta, so I can see what I thought six months prior, you know? Enjoy!

The Chasm. I'll forever stay stuck on how this part of the 'Stories of Remote Antiquity' OST plays during Guizhong's death scene. Our beloved Hoyoverse doesn't do anything by coincidence, they never once have. If they wanted to do something tragic, there are other Liyue OSTs out there that will punch you in the gut equally as much if not more. But this? This is oddly intentional. Ever since, I've been trying to figure out any potential ties to it, and with the Chenyu Vale theory out and about, claiming Guizhong to be the unnamed god (female and ever kind) that the three adepti served, another tie may be created through the fact that the people from Chenyu Vale originate from the Chasm (there's numerous tidbits as to why people tie her to Chenyu; I'd suggest the video, it's easier for now!). I also think, on some level, that if she is tied to the origins of the Chasm in some way, that it was her "descension" (or 'fall') that led to its unique creation. I don't know how the dots connect, but I've identified the dots, kind of, maybe.

The insane references to the night/moon. Her color scheme, the night sky in her sleeves, and the fact that she is inherently tied to the Glaze Lilies (which are known to bloom only at night). Furthermore, if you recognize and/or adhere to the fact that the Rite of Parting does not contain ingredients that befit Rex Lapis but instead seem to very much align with her, then there's also the Noctilucous Jade (I literally just realized that it's jade) which is known to glow at night. And then there's her inventions, which are all golden and sun-like in color scheme and I think of that line of lore about the Moon Sisters: "These three luminous moons shared but one love, the stars of daybreak." Daybreak, gold, golden, light, the sun. I'm losing my mind as I'm typing this. Any way, I digress, Noctilucous Jade is found underground, in caverns and more specifically, is rather abundant in the Chasm (my dearly detested). I've accepted that I just have an affinity to characters who seem to have either a direct or indirect tie to this place. I'll never escape it, I'll become one of its victims. /breathes, let me move onto the next point.

The Glaze Lilies. Now, while we know the Goddess of Flowers isn't a Moon Sister (this'll get tied in, I promise, please try to follow me here), the fact that she is a Seelie is important enough, for the three Moon Sisters were said to have lived alongside the race of the Seelies. This might mean some shared traits. Now even Seelies are noted to have an intricate tie to the moon, and a thing that the Goddess of Flowers was known for, was that when she danced, Padisarah flowers bloomed under her feet. 'But Sae, the Glaze Lilies didn't bloom when Guizhong danced', no no, I'll get there. It was specifically when she danced, or was around them. What I'm doing is tying these flowers to her more specifically, which is further enforced by the fact that after the Goddess of Flowers died, the Padisarahs dwindled in number until they became fully extinct. The ones you see today are not the real ones, they are replications created by Rukkhadevata herself in memory of her former friend. I note this, because a similar thing has occurred to the Glaze Lilies. In the aftermath of Guizhong's death, the Glaze Lilies that once populated the Guili Plains and Dihua Marsh have dwindled into extinction, and the only reason why they are found in Liyue today in some capacity, is because of Morax' direct influence (last few lines; and yes, I'm aware this is 'unreleased canon' at present, but none in this contradicts our current lore in any way, so I bear no qualms in making even loose use of it), but this seems to also insinuate that the Glaze Lilies that we see today, are not the real ones. So in essence, when the moment of the departure/death of the Goddess of Flowers came about, a specific flower associated with her came to perish as well. Is it a concept of, if the creator (one tied so intricately to the moon) is gone, do her creations wither away much in the same way? Now to mention one final thing, is the flower that most closely resembles the Glaze Lily: the Nilotpala Lotus. Not only do they share a color palette and very similar design, they share the peculiar behavior of blooming only at night, when subjected to the light of the moon itself. Now the most important thing to note here, is that the Nilotpala Lotuses were literally created and bloomed when the Moon Sisters stepped foot into Teyvat. One could, in essence, see the two flowers as 'lunar flowers'. Listen, I've never quite liked coincidences.

Dust. Now, this is a little more of a 'loose' connection and also me slightly rambling about something else that intrigues me to the moon and back (no pun intended), but it has my mind going insane nonetheless. Also, the very end is a reach, I'm aware, we know next to nothing about the Shades. Any way, Guizhong is inherently tied to two things: dust and alchemy. And these two become even more important when combined. Now, you'll have to strap in and wait for the little 'tie-in' at the end, because this can take a little bit. Her God name is 'Haagentus', which stems from Haagenti, one of the demons from the Ars Goetia. Within demonology, Haagenti is firmly tied to alchemy and transmutation, and while I'm not going to focus too much on specifics outside of the game, it is noted that 'he makes men wise by instructing them in every subject, transmutes all metals into gold, and changes wine into water and water into wine.' Sound fitting enough already, no? Now, outside of her name, let me hone in on some really clear alchemy references that you can find on and around her person. When you look at her design, Guizhong has numerous accessories that seem to be very closely resembling alchemy keys or symbols of some kind (this is not my area of expertise, but I will make it so if need be after this post, unless someone recognizes these symbols), primarily the 'pin' that holds the main portion of her hair back, a tattoo on her upper back, the 'petals' on her sleeves, and what has me most intrigued are the following two things: the symbols actively floating around her (and for clarity, see her cutscene, timestamped, shows them to be animated and coming from her and not the Cleansing Bell), and her anklet in a similar shape (which also seems to be a unique design in Genshin so far). Now, with alchemy established, let me hound on something that ties dust into alchemy, and what it means within Teyvat. Yes, I'm going to touch on its importance within the Art of Khemia, an advanced form of alchemy that is said to have been closely tied to Khaenri'ah (and might I note: Guizhong is noted to have numerous Ruin Guards, Khaenri'an technology, in her domain roughly 2000 years before they ever reached the surface of Teyvat's). Any way, this is where I need to touch on Albedo's character details, specifically the following:

"The universe is heaven reversed, and the earth is a dream lost to time. This is dust, the most basic form of complex life." As if to provide evidence for this claim, Albedo lifted the burnt ash of the flower that once grew atop a Dendro Slime's head. Seconds later, a Cecilia sprouted forth from the ash in his hand. "And this... is new birth."

And then from the caption in Collected Miscellany - "Albedo: Kreideprinz":

"Soil and chalk, the universe and earth, pure dust and the birth of human life... There is no mistaking it."

A little tie to the creation of life, interesting, indeed. Alright, now while it's not canon by any means, it is a popular enough theory that the Moon Sisters were three (out of four) of the Primordial One's Shades. And one of them is noted to have been in part responsible for the creation of life. Now I'm not tying this Shade into Guizhong, but I'm simply drawing the potential importance of her title of 'God of Dust' into the equation, or simply to reiterate the importance of dust within the existence of Teyvat as a whole as it stands today. And what it might mean if she was indeed, a Moon Sister (to tie into this, the 'Sun-Kings' are also firmly tied to the creation of life; I believe most of this 'generation' of gods would be). Anyway, continuing!

Now, there is a reference (which I do have to note is a legend and nothing more, but we'll take it to heart) that tells me that it's certain that at least two Moon Sisters are 'confirmed' dead, by account of there being only one moon left in Teyvat's sky, instead of three. The legend notes that two 'shattered into dust' (hello, dust) and subsequently disappeared which seems to be indicative of their death, and one secluded herself within the Lunar Palace and was never seen again. Now the tale of legends recounts that the moon we still see is tied to the corpse of a Moon Sister, but how has that one endured when the other two have not? There are no remains of the other two, why not? Unless the third Moon Sister didn't actually die, or 'fully' die. Bear with me, this is where it gets very hypothetical, but it makes enough sense in my head, I'm mostly just having issues putting all of this into proper words. The reference given above is from Moonpiercer, an Aranara weapon. These little green friends had seen the Moon Sisters descend into Teyvat multiple times (we know this, due to the much earlier referenced blooming of the Nilotpala Lotuses), and at one point no longer saw them come down. Whatever 'calamity' occurred during which the Moon Sisters were said to have died, the Aranara reference that they died, and noted the way in which they perished, but unless this information was given to them by the envoys between Teyvat and Celestia, the Seelies, this would have consisted of pure speculation and assumption. After all, everything returns to dust, even deities such as the Moon Sisters. What if that's exactly what happened with the third Moon Sister? What if her death never occurred, or, what if the death was more symbolical in a sense of, she strayed from that level of divinity, what if she fell from the Lunar Palace and landed in... the Chasm? The place that is said to have been created by a large impact to its region, and later on also was the location of the fall of the Solar Chariot?

In essence, yes, I'm making the argument that Haagentus might just be this specific Moon Sister. 'But Sae, she's dead now, isn't she?' Yes, but look at the condition that she's in upon her death: she is encased in stone, fully petrified (and who is the only one we know to wield such power?), and even the dust that abandoned her, is encased overhead (again, a power we see Zhongli wield during the final cutscene in Perilous Trail without barely lifting a finger). What if the only reason that the final moon has not gone out and dark over Teyvat, is because her remains have been tied to the lands by Zhongli himself, who if you ascribe to the theory of Sun-King Zhongli, has even more reason to not let her go?

/munches on a cookie as a little reward for myself for managing to finish all of this semi-coherently, and gives you a cookie for having gotten through all of this.

#[ meta. ] her manuscripts still lie unfinished in her abode. the blank pages give one cause for contemplation on what might have been.#[ /wipes sweat from brow. ]#[ the amount of times i distracted myself during this? crazy. '30 minutes' i said. I said that when i'd started on the 'dust' paragraph. ]#[ and that was the part where i kept doing more research and everything got so much more complicated-- but also not. ]#[ it's almost like; will any of this make me change my mind? the answer was nope. ]

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kotamagic · 1 year

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Lore Olympus this week unveils not only where Persephone has been all day, but how there's now a baby Dionysos.

Given how wonky Greek mythology is, between people and gods turning into different things and why things are the way they are in the world, Zeus giving birth from his leg?

Pfft, please. That's just a Tuesday on Olympus.

True as it may be that mortals are fragile and, yeah, mortal, I'm calling bullshit on part of this.

In the original myth, Hera knew about Semele being pregnant. The Queen of the gods disguised herself as an old woman and convinced her dumbass husband to appear before Semele in his true form. Since mortals aren't meant to see that, Semele pretty much EVAPORATED on the spot.

If we recall, Zeus isn't the most honest god on Olympus. FFS, more like the LEAST honest. Remember that bullshit he fed Demeter about Hera marrying him being Hades' idea? Forever reigns the lies and bullshit....

Speaking of Semele, she looks lovely here. Pity we didn't get to see much more of her.

Appreciate the pottery-style art here. Those stitches make his leg look like a football, though.

Which also leads me to another point -- besides the stitches, what other proof was there of pregnancy? Real world women get round and swollen during pregnancy. I didn't see Zeus walking around with a fat thigh. Did you?

For all of these legitimate, important questions, all of Zeus' answers come back to "I don't want Hera to find out."

Asclepius should already have been aware since, you know, HE SEWED THE KID TO ZEUS' THIGH. Besides a threat from Zeus, what else was there to stop him leaking the secret to anyone?

Apollo was just a bad idea all around. He already tried to marry and SA'd Persephone to get at her fertility goddesses powers. Zeus is onto him, so getting him involved is a big, fat NO.

Eileithyia might have ratted Zeus out anyway. Unless I'm mistaken, she HAS to be present for a birth to occur. Her being the goddess of childbirth means she WAS present in some way for this. Before Artemis & Apollo were born, she was actively delayed and prevented from going to Leto.

Or was that another childbirth goddess that I forgot the name of?

Persephone seeing the similarity between Dionysos and baby Hades likely triggered her. She literally jumped from the dream dive to this, so what she saw is still very fresh in her mind.

Also, baby Hades in the last pic, despite looking anxious, is CUTE!

Zeus.... that face.... I fucking CAN'T!

(He deserves all the pain he's about to go through.)

Typical Zeus, dumping off his demigod progeny with someone else to be THEIR problem instead of his.

Refresh my memory--- is that the same place/nymphs that raised Zeus after his mom fed Chronos a rock? If so, I guess I can see why that'd be his plan, but that's still a shitty thing to do!

...aaaannndddd Persephone goes into "Fuck you, he's my kid now!" mode.

Going back to what I wrote about the previous episode, if Persephone & Hades do adopt him, it might be Rachel's way of making the Dionysos/Zageus link stronger. Also, consider that Dionysos was "born" in the Underworld, and the goddess of childbirth was not present. That could be part of the stillborn origin of Dionysos/Zagreus.

Anyways, thanks for coming to my LO post!

#lore olympus #lo zeus #lo persephone #lo Dionysos #lo Semele

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megbonney · 1 year

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(rare Paranoia-Told-Me-So-Post)

if you're hypothetically stalking this because i hypothetically cut you off with no hypothetical 'reason', i hypothetically suggest you hypothetically move on 😊 i may not have been the greatest friend to you but you definitely weren't either (though your idea of a good friend is just someone who fuels your delusions). my desperation for a tiddlywink, a dash even, of respect, was admittedly pathetic. that's why i bought you so much shit - while money can buy happiness, it can't buy friendship. i would apologise for not communicating enough but it's kinda hard when it's constantly my fault. when you're made to not feel safe about something, you don't do it anymore. i would apologise for not hanging out with you enough but i was constantly too much for you: we only hung out when you had no one else. whether you disagree with me or not isn't something i give a fuck about but if you taught me one thing it's "you can't argue with feelings." so this is how i feel you treated me. i'm glad i was starting to change, not be something you liked anymore. i realise the last thing i wanted was to be anything remotely close to you. you are everything but a role model. if you were doing anything it was making me a piece of shit, giving me shitty behaviours and habits that i now have to undo. technically you did raise me, but not well. if i have to untrain my brain that getting groomed is not my fault, that should say a lot. (what kind of friend says that? a light apparently.) i should've listened when all the friends we went through said the same thing about you. i kinda wish i was smarter with you. if i had known you would've asked my best friend to stalk my instagram, told my mother about very Intimate things which was a very low blow for you, messaged my brother aswell, also someone i literally..cut off....who then told my best friend...who told me.........i woulda known what kinda person you are. but i know now! i just find your attempt to make me look slutty to the woman who birthed me kinda bold. very bold actually. lol tldr: i hate dragging shit but i'm doing this for my own closure and also because my brain tries to convince me of something and sometimes (like now) i do things. thanks for the good times, although barely any around the time i left you. i hope you don't project being a rebound onto your other friends. i'd feel bad for them. you always told me to cut off people who treat me like shit and i did, so. if i wanted to tell you to relapse i would've myself, so, wasn't me. i could've though, considering how little my wellbeing actually meant to you. you only wanted to talk to me when it conveniences you, you are the person who never asks 'how are you'. you are half the shit i've written about on here, though i never said it to your face before. this is a shitty tldr O_O we both suck in our own fruity ways but you definitely suck a lot. if you're still being a mooch/leech/emotional leech/every kind of it in 2024 i'll feel bad for the people who keep you around. if you'd like to know, i am communicating swimmingly :-) it's way easier when my friends make me feel safe! :D but srsly if you're still dragging this please get a job or do something with your chronically online life instead of smacktalking a minor, although that is what you do to everyone you know. so..so much for light. i could sit here and call you a fucking foul bitch with no future but that'd be plain rude. you can say what you want about crow and i being on good terms again but when i had to spend a year listening to a fuckin parrot in my ear i'd understandably not be the biggest fan of him. same as him not being the biggest fan of you for leaking a minors sex life to their parents. and a bunch of other shit. yeah.

#april '23 #2023

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catboys-need-milk · 3 years

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Lactation Kink Headcannons for Mammon ~ ♡

Mammon got the most votes in my little poll so here he is!!! I know Levi had a fair amount too though, but I do have a little thing I'm working on for him~ ♡

☆TW: sad boy hours, gambling addiction, brief mentions of voyeur-ish vibes

**I do make a reference to my headcannons for Lucifer in this (where I talk about how he likes to watch), but if you haven't read those you can always just read them afterwards if you want**

♡ Mammon isn't one to seek out your milk too frequently (though, not necessarily for a lack of wanting to) Perhaps because his mind is just too caught up in his greed, or maybe he's normally just too hesitant to let himself become that vulnerable

♡ but it's on those days, the ones where he's just gambled away and lost a gut-wrenching amount of money and brought to his knees by his sin—that he wants it seemingly more than anything else in the world, desperate to find relief from the overwhelming feeling of regret

♡ he'll show up at your room door, visibly upset and looking like a lost puppy "Hey. Can I come in for a bit?"

♡ you'll probably find yourself already starting to leak, your body instinctively responding to the emotional distress in his voice almost like some sort of cue to start producing milk

♡ Mammon "asks" you for it with pleading eyes, his breathing becoming audibly more labored as he'll rub his fingers over the little wet spots forming on your shirt—knowing that your body already wants to feed him

♡ he'll latch onto your breast the second you give him the chance, desperate to drown out the overwhelming feelings of guilt and regret

♡ he may like talk to you a little bit while you're feeding him, taking only short pauses from your breast to speak

♡ he'll tell you what happened, explain to you what went wrong that resulted in him losing all the money, "That one horse, ya gotta believe me, he's never lost! ...I thought for sure that.....th-that....." only to trail off and return to the safety of your n*pple as he starts to feel himself on the brink of tears

♡ yeah, of course he knows he'll have to deal with the consequences later. Having to explain why he can't pay back his debts, picking up more shifts (and probably stealing things) to gain that money back—but ugh...please...just let him run away from all that right now

♡ please hold his hand? Tell him he's a sweet boy, that everything is going to be okay and that he is still loved. Lord knows he needs to hear it. You can feel how he suckles you harder, as if trying to drink in your words

♡ the way which he does it seems to change with his emotional state, fast at first but getting slower and more gentle he calms down, and feels his mind empty.

♡ I don't know how to explain it, but there's just something about the way his eyes look—the blue somehow more intense— when they flutter open a just little, briefly making eye contact with you before closing again as he loses himself in your milk

♡ he makes some of the sexiest, yet softest little moans. Moans he'd usually be embarrassed of, but in these blissful moments with you he doesn't feel the need to be so on guard about that

♡ and no, Mammon doesn't care if Lucifer watches. Hell, if he's watching, he ain't lecturing. Which is always a great thing

♡ in fact, he even finds it a just a little bit satisfying, knowing that the eldest merely gets to watch as he drains you of everything your body has to offer, all for himself

Looking for more Obey Me lactation kink stuff? Check out my Masterlist

(I literally had to edit this post on the computer just to make the text yellow. Like it's the only color they don't offer on the app?? Why are you gatekeeping the color yellow, tumblr mobile?? XD )

#gonna have pizza later and watch the new AOT so excited #last episode was a bit of a mindfuck though like—#obey me mammon #obey me smut #obey me lemon #om! lemon #om! mammon #obey me x reader #obey me mammon smut #obey me headcannons #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #mammon x reader #catboys-need-milk

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elizabeths-writing-corner · 3 years

Text

"Butler's gift" Obey me! Barbatos smut

☁ Happy International Women's Day! To celebrate that here's a little admiration from your favorite demon butler. I was so close to writing for Mammon... again but given that there's (hopefully) a fic with him coming soon I strayed from that idea.

Barbatos x fem!Reader

tw: soft dom, body worship because you're a goddess, oral (f!receiving), fingering, nipple play

+18, minors please don't interact with this post, thank you!

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There was always something so charming about Barbatos. He needn't say a word to worship you and make you feel like a princess. You got used to the fact that he wasn't too effusive with his words of affirmation. His actions spoke for himself and they spoke in beautiful poetry.

You wanted to stop by The Demon Lord's Castle for just a quick moment but your plans changed suddenly when the royal butler smoothly talked you into following him to his room.

"What's the occasion?" you ask, after being gently pushed onto the bed, while Barbatos is planting soft kisses on your cheeks, moving down your neck to your shoulders. "You're not usually the one to initiate things."

"There's none," he denies, while his hands are traveling down your body to your thighs. "May I?" he asks, slowly sliding his gloved hand under your skirt and between your legs. You nod, giving him permission to go further and pull your panties aside.

Barbatos definitely knows all of your weak spots and the best way to stimulate them. That's why he presses and draws circles on your clit. His movements are slow and steady. The way you slightly lift your hips and look at him so needly, lets him know you want more.

The demon takes off your skirt and panties in order to get full access to your pussy. You're already so wet for him and he barely touched you.

The finger that previously played with your clit, now moves to your hole and is pressing lightly on it before entering with its full length. You let out a quiet gasp, that's followed by a much louder moan when Barbatos' long, demon tongue slides up your folds, gathering your arousal.

You place your palm on his forehead, picking up his bangs so they don't get in the way when he licks and sucks on your sensitive bud, while also pushing and curling his finger inside your cunt.

"Yes, like this! I think I'm gonna c-cum..."

Barbatos doesn't speed up nor does he go harder, he keeps up his pace and only purrs, the vibrations from his voice somehow make the experience even better.

He doesn't stop when you orgasm, not before he slurps all that you have to offer and licks up your pussy clean.

When you finally stop trembling, he withdraws from you to take off his green button-up and unbuckle his pants that he throws onto the chair next to the bed.

"You didn't think it was over, did you?" That's all you needed to hear from him to get butterflies in your stomach.

Your boyfriend grabs your ankles, pulls you closer, and places your calfs on his shoulders. Then bends his knees in order to align the pinkish tip of his cock with your entrance. It's soft and the precum that's leaking from it makes it easy to moisturize your hole. He slides himself in... inch by inch... going slow so he doesn't hurt you.

The anticipation building in your core is killing you. Oh, how badly you want him to finally ravage you! You want him to let go of this facade, to stop holding back, and let his lust take control over his actions.

Barbatos thrusts into you rhythmically, successively increasing his speed. He bends over you, his cock reaching deeper inside your pussy, poking your cervix. His hand slides under your top and lifts it up, exposing your black, lacy bra which he also gets out of the way.

His gloved fingers brush against your soft nipples, the cold air that suddenly hits them makes them perk up. The demon's hot breath warms them up a little before he squeezes one of your breasts and starts sucking on your nipples. Your back arches and your hand ends up on his chest.

"You seem to be enjoying this, love," he breaths out in a quiet, calming tone. "I'm glad."

The flickering of his wet, split by the tip tongue draws the naughtiest moans and whines out of you, accompanied by the sloppy sounds he makes.

This and the constant, fastening fucking done by Barbatos brings you closer and closer to your orgasm.

Before that happens, you grab his face with your free hand, drag him away from your nipples, that he seemed to be lost in sucking, and guide him to your lips.

The long, passionate kiss you share muffles your moans when your high approaches. Barbatos growls into your mouth when he cums, emptying his balls inside your cunt. A low grunt is usually the most you can draw from him but it's charming in its own way.

Your kiss lasts for a while and when you finally withdraw from each other, your boyfriend pulls his softening cock out of you and hovers above your figure, admiring your presence. The back of his hand brushes against your blushed cheek before he stands up to go get you a towel. When he comes back, he encounters you laying on your stomach, leaning your head on your hand and waving your legs innocently with a satisfied smile painting your face.

#obey me #obey me smut #barbatos smut #barbatos x y/n #barbatos x you #barbatos x fem reader

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riverisnotsafe · 3 years

Text

Mine.

PAIRING: F!Servant!Reader x Naoya Zenin

WARNINGS: NAOYA ZENIN. Naoya smut. NSFW, Minors DNI. | If you're into any of these: possessive Naoya, breeding kink (?), mentions of overstimulation, jealous Naoya.

A/N: You can call me Noct or River. I’m still fairly new to how tumblr works and how writers and bloggers (?) write their imagines/fics so I do apologize in advance if my writing is not to your liking. I will also post on AO3 under sunflowerpsycho. I'm still trying to improve^^ This was self-indulgent and not edited so pretty all over the place and might be unclear in some parts, sorry bout that.

The reader lowkey a pick me but depends on how you view her, either she's a pick me or she just acts the way she acts to accustom and stroke the lil bitches ego.

“A-ah! Naoya-sama!” you moan his name as he shoots his load deep in you. A few moments of bliss and you were ready to clean yourself. Naoya never liked staying in bed long after sex. He finds it disgusting. All the fluids of sweat, semen and love juices mixed together made his skin crawl. “Oi woman, where are you going?” You haven’t even gotten up but Naoya had you strongly wrapped in his embrace. His cock still deep within you, as if acting as a plug. “I’m gonna wash myself..? You don’t like being dirty like this...usually?” the last bit came out as a question when Naoya buried his head deep into the crevice of your neck. “Ah, I’ll let it pass today. Just stay here. My cum is gonna leak out if you move.” he tried to shove himself deeper, earning an unexpected moan from you. “L-leak out???” Does Naoya have a breeding kink? Is he trying to keep his cum in you???? “N-naoya-sama...are you trying to breed me?” at the mention of breed, you could feel his dick twitch in your core. “Shut up woman.” Ah...so he is and he’s embarrassed to admit. “I feel honoured if that’s what you’re trying to do...” another twitch.

Under that tough misogynistic act, this man is just a boy who thrives on praise, he probably was deprived of any in his childhood, hence the superiority complex. But with you, he’s quite honest. The body doesn’t lie. You were just another servant. He probably paid and slept with many so you never thought of it as anything special. Besides, after all of this dirty work, both of you end up going your separate ways. A servant and the young master. That’s all it is. That is until one of the maids tried stealing from the family, unfortunately from Naoya and he didn’t take it too lightly. A woman and a thief, absolutely the worst. Ever since that, he appointed you as his personal maid, to ensure that only one person will serve him. Only one will enter and exit his quarters. Only one will serve his meals. Only one will tend to him. Only one will follow him around the house. Only one will keep him company when needed. Why did he choose you? Honestly you had no idea. Out of all the servants, clearly you were the least appealing, especially for a man of Naoya’s caliber.

You could never rival the looks of any of the other girls. You were chubby. Your thighs a bit too thick. Your cheeks were puffy. You had no thigh gap. Curves? Well, they weren’t hour-glass curves so you were bedrock bottom ranked. And when it came to family, you were a nobody. All the other servants have been serving the Zenin clan for generations. You were just a nobody who was pulled into the servant life to pay off your parent’s debt. What luck. It took him time though, to make you tend to him sexually. He might have a big ego and any woman would sleep with him but deep down he knew it was only for money and his looks, which he prided on. The sex was always bland. He could care less about the women’s pleasures, he would ejaculate outside, toss them money and demand them to immediately leave. He found them disgusting. Weren’t you just the same?

He had a great face, an even better body and all the riches you could’ve dreamt of, so why has he not tossed you out yet. He for sure can suspect that you’re just the same as all those women, plus, you were even lower, a nobody. Yet, here he is, deep inside you. This has been..about the sixth time you and Naoya have had intercourse. The first three times was when you were just a normal servant. Coincidentally he always found you and forced you to pleasure him. The pay was good so you never complained. After becoming his personal maid, it took a few months to make you fulfil his sexual needs, which is rather strange. A man like knows nothing of consent. He’s a tyrant. What he wants, he can get and he will. So why did he take months to make you fuck him when it was so easy before becoming his personal servant. Who knows? Maybe it was his underlying insecurities asking him to be sure.

“Naoya-sama...may I turn to look at you?” he grunts. “I’ll be sure to avoid any leakage” he nods. You slowly turn your body, still impaled on him. It was a different kind of pleasure but you withheld your moans. Your face are so close. This moment is intimate, for you and him. Almost unreal. He’s gorgeous. That red tint of blush and sex afterglow just added more to his beauty. “Naoya-sama. May I speak more than usual?” “Only because you asked for permission. Proceed.” he avoided looking into your eyes. A shy one. “I appreciate my master’s kindness. Thank you for allowing me to speak. Naoya-sama...please be honest with me. Are you trying to impregnate me? Why? I’m just a lowly servant. I could never be perfect to bear your children, or be a concubine. I have no value. You are too kind. We should stop. I will remove myself now. Thank you for your time master.” You slowly push yourself off him. He grabs your arm harshly, definitely bruising it.

“You said no leakage. And how dare you speak to your master so insolently? How dare you question what holds value to me or not. You are a lowly servant. You’re a filthy no-name bitch. You live to lick my shoes and pick up money I throw on the ground. You are not going anywhere. You are staying on this bed with me in you. You have to be reminded who your master is.” Oooh, you definitely pissed him off. You winced at his words. They were normal, he always told you where your place is so it wasn’t a surprise. “You stupid woman. Now it’s out. You moved and now it’s out.” he sounds disappointed. He was whining like a child. “Naoya-sama!” he plunged into you hard. “Yes, scream my name you stupid bitch.” He went faster and faster. “Don’t cum inside...I’m not worthy master” “Shut your mouth. Worthy? No woman is worthy of me. Selfish. All they care about are themselves. Such an inferior gender thinking what they know is worthy? I decide. I decide your worth.” He changed positions. He pressed both your legs close to your chest. A mating press. He was so deep. The squelching of his previous load acting as lubricant was erotic.

“You. Your lewd body. You were always trying to seduce me. Those luscious thighs. These fat breasts. You were made for child-bearing. The look you make when I fuck you. So in awe, eyes rolling back. Ah. Ah. Sometimes you even forgot payment because you rushed to clean yourself. You were the only memorable one. The sounds you make. You’re erotic. No one else can see or hear you except me. Mine. Mine. Mine.” Naoya drilled you senseless. So desperate to hear you. Desperate to look at your expressions. Desperate to conquer you. “N-naoya-sama! Ah! Ah! Naoya-sama!” You had practically lost any sense and all you could feel was his dick fucking you mercilessly. The veins. The length. The girth. He fit like a glove. He had shaped you to be accustomed to him. “When that no-name clan came yesterday for a meeting. I saw your look. You enjoyed how they all looked at you didn’t you? You slut. You’d want them to fuck you like this right? Only I can though. You smiled and served them. Desperate bitch.” The meeting yesterday?

Your mind wandered. Oh yes, a small clan that are partners with the Zenin in business. The heirs were quite good-looking and well-mannered, how could a lady not feel flattered. You can’t remember if you specifically smiled or enjoyed their small talk. Was being polite not a simple necessity a servant should have towards guests? To ensure their master was not seen as tardy. You can’t remember their names or faces. All you remember was Naoya slipping his hand under your garments and fingering you. “You enjoyed people watching right? Especially since they were good-looking. I WAS RIGHT THERE WITH YOU. Disgusting piece of shit.” He got even rougher. You don’t know how many times you’ve orgasmed and how many times Naoya had ejaculated in you but he was still at it. He’s jealous huh.. how strange. A man that could have anything and anyone in the world was strangely possessive of a worthless woman like you. “You can’t show them those expressions. Mine. Your kindness mine. Your sounds. Mine. You’re my servant.” he sounds sad.

Despite being in subspace, you unintentionally reach out to your master and cub his face. “Naoya-sama. I love you.” Those unintentional words made the malicious man slow down his pace. “What did you say?” Is he angry? Oof, all the best dealing with another tantrum. You couldn’t feel anything. Legs sore. Your mind had wandered. The pleasure had made you dumb yet the little consciousness you have for your master remained. “I love you, Naoya.” His cock twitched. “Again” “I love you.” “Again” “I love you, Naoya-sama”. All that repeating made you come to your senses. “I don’t remember the men from yesterday. All I remember were your thick fingers in me. My expressions and mewls were for you. If this body is what you want then I will offer it all to you, my master. Ask, you are my master after all. All of me is yours.” You get up a bit, and stagger, he fucked the life outta ya. “Master, allow me to speak.” a small dumbfounded nod. You slip a hand onto his cheek and kiss him. Both of you never shared a kiss.

It was too intimate for a servant to kiss their master. Only their betrothed would be worthy but you couldn’t help it, you needed to assure this man-child, you were no one else’s. “Master, I-“ “Naoya. When we’re alone call me Naoya.” a small smile crept onto your lips. “Naoya, breed me.” His face was flushed. That’s exactly what he wanted. Through the night, he fucked you in every inch of the room. Both of your fluids and smell, absolutely drenched his quarters. He never once ejaculated outside. Every drip of his semen was in your womb, he wouldn’t even pull out, in fear it would leak. Shower? He fucked you while showering too. His animalistic senses stopped when a knock on the door came.

“Lay down with your back arched. It can’t leak.” He put on a robe and answered. A woman’s voice. “Naoya-sama. Naobito-sama is calling for you.” “Tch. Annoying old man” he slams the door shut. “Oi. Arch even more.” He came back to you. “I’m going to put this in you so you don’t spill.” He was holding, A DILDO? This man has a dildo? “N-naoya-sama, t-thats...” “Some servant I had my way with some time ago left it to fuck with me. I kept it not knowing what it was but now the shape looks like it’d plug you up good.” A servant he had his ways with huh. You were just another one right. He seemed to have noticed your train of thought. “Stupid woman. That servant is long gone. And now. You’re mine. No other stupid bitch except you. Stop thinking nonsense. Maybe I’ll remind you a bit more. That old man can wait.” He unrobed and pounced you. You definitely can’t walk for a few days.

“I’ll plug you up and we’ll go see the old man” he sounds, quite joyful. “If you move and leak, I won’t hesitate to fill you up again.” Ah. He’s definitely Naoya Zenin. “Naoya-sama” you smile. “What? You should be grateful that I’ve allowed you to speak so many times since last night.” You can’t help but giggle. A slight blush forms on Naoya’s face. “How dare you laugh at m-“ you pull him in for a kiss. He reluctantly kissed back. “Naoya-sama, I love you.” you smiled. He thrusted into you without warning. “The old man can definitely wait. You filled with my child is more important.” God knows how many times he’d come in your womb without pulling out, there’s no way you’re not pregnant. “Naoya-sama...let’s stop here...I can’t walk properly if we continue, then a different servant will have to serve you.” He was about to argue but held his tongue. “Fine.” He pulled out and slowly shoved the dildo in. Looks like he’d rather have wobbly-legged you than another servant. You can't help but smile. “Go shower and meet me back here. And clean the room after meeting with the old man. The smell...erotic but dreadful. Wash everything.” “Yes my master.” You hurriedly got clothed and rushed to the servant quarters to clean up. You were happy. What a weirdo.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #naoya zenin #naoya zenin smut #naoya zenin x reader

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qianinterprises · 3 years

Text

Summer '78

Pairing | bully!Jeno x chubby!Reader

Warning(s) | bullying, harsh words, cussing, sexual assault, name calling, fat shaming, poor shaming, face slapping, angst, hurtful comments, yelling, the Dreamies are not nice people (I know I did Jaemin wrong, I'm sorry)

Synopsis | Jeno was a bully, and you were his primary victim. Nothing should have changed, but Jeno began getting tired of bullying the girl he was in love with simply because she didn't conform to societies beauty standards. So she was chubby? So what?! His friends didn't see it that was.

Genre | ANGST, retro-flashback

Author’s Notes | So I wrote this a while back for an event of NCTA, which was basically writing a retro fic. This fic is very different than the fics I usually write. For one, it is told in Jeno's perspective rather than the readers. For two, this is a "chubby fic." Meaning the reader is seen in the fic as having a larger body weight, which, may I add here, is not a problem, nor should it ever be. If you are being bullied for anything, please don't let it go unreported. Report it as many times as you have to because bullying is not ok, whether it's done at school, at home, or anywhere else. Also, there is a possibility that there will be a part two, I have had some people (before posting it here) request a part two but I'm on the fence about that, but perhaps a part two will show some change and growth on Jeno's part. So we'll see. Tell me your opinions though! I hope you enjoy~

Word Count | 3.5k

Taglist | @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon @nschitty

A group of six boys sat around a table talking and laughing until a loud crash resounded through the snack shack that brought their attention to a waitress on the floor, yellow heels scattered behind her, empty tray in her hands and spilled drinks everywhere as well as on a girl by the table the waitress had fallen at.

“Clutz,” one of the boys, Jeno, mumbled, shaking his head.

“Fatass,” Jeno’s best friend, Jaemin responded.

The other four muttered something along the lines of agreement as they watched the waitress cowering on the floor with a bright red face as the girl now covered in cola shrieked about her ruined clothing and hair.

Jaemin got up from his seat angrily.

“What the hell are you doing to my girlfriend!” he yelled, approaching the pair.

“Jaeminnie! She poured soda all over me!” the girl pouted, running into Jaemins arms.

Jeno rolled his eyes.

Jeno shook his head. Out of all of the boys in their biker gang, Jaemin just had to be the most gullible, falling for the Queen Bee of the high school who used him for nothing more than his money and face.

“She ruined my shirt,” Jeno heard the girl whine.

Jaemin embraced her tighter.

“You’ll have to pay for her clothing, fatty!” Jaemin demanded.

The waitress was someone Jeno recognized. (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). She had been one of his best friends when he was a shy ten year old trying to fit in. They both befriended Jaemin and the rest of their group and somewhere along the way, he’d gotten muscular and tall while she’d gotten chubby. With Jeno’s looks, he’d always been popular with girls, but when he became interested in them as more than friends, he’d dumped the girl in favor of girlfriends.

She was a bullied girl wearing outdated clothing that made adequate grades. A nobody. She didn’t fit into any groups. She drifted through high school being shoved against lockers while her books were thrown across the hallway and what little lunch money she had was stolen. More often than not, Jeno or one of the other guys was the perpetrator.

“I can’t…” (y/n) muttered, looking down at the floor.

Jaemin kicked the carrying tray away from her, making the girl flinch.

Something in Jeno’s heart snapped against his chest, but he’d never allow it to escape. He watched tears gather in the corner of the girl's eyes and Jeno fought the urge to pull her to his chest.

Feelings began to stir their first year in high school when he and (y/n) had been seated side-by-side in homeroom and he’d leaned over to tease her about her recent, awkwardly styled hair when he’d met the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

The feelings made his stomach twist in knots and his body tingled. Feelings and sensations that only grew stronger when their skin brushed or when her angelic voice met his ears.

The feelings were what drove him to brash treatment. His hands shoving her shoulders against the lockers as he demanded for her money. Fingers harshly tugging at the ends of her hair. His voice yelling horrible things at her just to hear her speak back.

He couldn’t tell anyone how he was feeling either. Dating the chubby girl would cause him to lose whatever popularity he had obtained along with his pride and his gang. Their leader couldn’t be seen as the weak punk who decided to date the chubby girl from a poor family.

Jaemin sneered down at the blushing girl, taunting her loudly and Jeno watched her feeble attempt at hiding her face.

“Jaemin! Let’s go. Chubby over here isn’t worth our time,” Jeno called loudly, voice filled with authority that had Jaemin immediately moving away from the girl.

“Fine. But she owes us free meals for a week! Those clothes were expensive!” Jaemin whined.

He kissed his girlfriend's cheek and walked to the door to wait on the rest of the gang who were stuffing their last few fries in their mouths or finishing off their milkshakes.

“Let’s roll,” Jaemin called, a grin on his face.

Jeno shook his head at how fast the male changed perspectives. He grabbed his leather jacket off the back of his chair, sliding his arms into it and let it snap against his back.

The last few members finished their plates, leaving them on the table before grabbing their own jackets and following Jaemin out the door. Jeno took the end, stopping by the waitress on the floor.

“Maybe get some heels your fat feet can walk in, huh Dollface?” he sneered.

Her face flew red again and he rolled his eyes.

“And you should stop blushing. You look like a tomato. Vegetables aren’t attractive. Although it’s fitting. Tomatoes are plump.”

He walked out the door without another word, heart hammering painfully in his ears. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, but that was a problem. He couldn’t think chubby girls were beautiful. What would his friends think?

The loud purr of an engine met his ears and he sighed happily, most of his regret getting washed away, uprooted by the smell of motor oil and tires.

Jeno’s ride was a cherry red 1960 Harley-Davidson motorcycle with shiny silver wheels that didn’t match the rusted gas tank or muffler that Jeno was now saving to restore among other things. The black leather seat was slightly cracked from wear over the years and the breaks didn’t always work great. His headlight needed a new spark plug and the oil line leaked. Still, with all of these issues, he loved his bike. Each new issue gave him something to work on at night in his father's tiny little garage when all he wanted was grease on his chest and a wrench in his hand.

“Let’s go Jeno! I wanna ride!” Donghyuck moaned from his spot on his own bike, revving the engine with his right hand.

Jeno rolled his eyes at Donghyuck’s whining. Out of all of them, he was the one that loved traveling the most. They��d gone all the way up the coast the day they’d let Donghyuck lead them.

Jeno nodded and threw his leg over his bike, kicking the kick start lever and sighing happily as the bike roared to life beneath him. He pushed off his kickstand and allowed it to roll forward.

“Let’s go!” he called.

He rolled to the front of the group before revving the engine and turning onto the main road leaving the beachside snack shack behind.

When Jeno pulled into the driveway of his house, he parked his motorcycle beside his elder brother's black and gold Harley, letting the kickstand rest against the dirt driveway and dismounted..

He made his way into the house where his older brother, Jaehyun, was sitting alone in the living room flipping through channels.

Jeno’s heart hurt. All through the ride, he thought about (y/n) and the pained look in her eyes every time someone teased her. He knew it wasn’t right to bully her, especially for something as shallow as her weight or her clothes, but when the girls Jeno dated began mocking her, Jeno joined in, and pretty soon, she was alone. It hurt that Jeno could have stopped it. He could have kept her as a friend instead of ditching her, and now, here he was, hopelessly in love with the girl he bullied and too afraid to stand up to his friends out of fear that they would dump him.

“I have a problem,” he groaned, flopping down on the couch.

Jaehyun turned the small box television off and turned his attention to Jeno. Jeno rolled his head back on the plush green sofa and sighed.

“There’s this girl I like…” he started.

Jaehyun groaned in disinterest.

“So tell her. Not like you can’t get any girl. I heard you’re one of the kings of your class,” he replied.

Jeno whined. It was true. He could virtually have anyone he wanted, yet the one person he couldn’t have was the one he desired.

“I can’t. My friends wouldn’t approve and she’d never go for me… not after everything I’ve done,” he muttered hopelessly.

“Why do you care so much what your punk friends think? Do what you want, not what they want you to do.”

Jeno sighed. It wasn’t that easy and Jaehyun should know that.

“She’d never go out with me anyway and I can never tell her!” Jeno whined, hoping his brother would understand.

He was far too ashamed to come out and say exactly why she wouldn’t. “There’s girls that don’t like you?” Jaehyun asked, clearly shocked.

Jeno nodded sullenly.

“Just one…”

That seemed to make the links click in Jaehyun’s mind and Jeno wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“You don’t mean you like the poor girl you always bully, do you?”

So Jaehyun knew about that. No wonder his brother had grown distant since Jeno had started high school.

“Um… yes…” he mumbled.

Jaehyun shuffled around on the beige chair he was sitting on before one of his dirty socks was being chucked at Jeno’s head.

“Hey!” Jeno snapped.

“You don’t treat people like that! You and your friends are assholes! That poor girl won’t forgive you for what you’ve done to her!” Jaehyun yelled.

Jeno wanted to yell back, but he knew Jaehyun was right. He was an asshole.

“What do I do to get her to like me… I don’t know how to stop this mess…” he mumbled. Jaehyun groaned and grabbed the large remote, flipping the television back on.

“You make things right. Stop bullying the girl and apologize like you mean it. Even then, it may be too late,” Jaehyun answered before his attention was back into the heavy box television.

Jeno sighed. He knew his brother was right.

The next afternoon, Jeno pulled his motorcycle into the parking lot of the snack shack, parking alongside Jisungs rusting brown one he refused to let Jaemin or Jeno strip and repaint.

Jeno dismounted and walked into the shack. His friends were crowded around their usual table, talking loudly.

Jeno walked over to the table and slid into the booth beside Renjun.

“What’d I miss?” he asked.

Jaemin was cackling and fishing ice out of his soda glass.

“(y/n) is on our table today!” he smirked.

Jeno’s heart dropped. That meant they’d be extra cruel to her today and Jeno really couldn’t do anything to tell her or his friends how he felt. The universe must really hate him.

Jaemin got the ice out of his cola glass and held it in his palm, his faze shifting to where (y/n) was shuffling around in her red striped shirt and black pants, wearing those same yellow heels.

“What are you gonna-”

Jeno was cut off as Jaemin smirked and launched the ice cube across the table, getting enough air to fly across the room until it dived down into the low cut v-line of (y/n)’s striped shirt.

“Yes! 10 points!” Jaemin cheered loudly.

(y/n) squeaked at the sudden intrusion of ice, a sound that Jeno found oddly adorable, even if it wasn’t a good kind of squeak.

Her face flamed red and she hurried back to put her notepad down on the chef’s counter before moving back to their table.

“Can I get you guys anything else?” she asked, her voice having gone up an octave from embarrassment.

“I want a chocolate milkshake,” Renjun answered.

(y/n) jotted it down and moved to look at the rest.

“I want a burger that’s charred on one side, but not too charred. Don’t bring me burnt meat or I’ll make your fatass eat it,” Jaemin said.

Jeno sighed at his friend, shaking his head subtly.

“I want a burger with a dollop of ketchup and three pickles. Don’t you dare give me any more or less than three pickles,” Donghyuck ordered.

Jeno rolled his eyes. Donghyuck didn’t even like pickles.

She glanced at Jisung and Chenle, both who were contently sipping their cola’s and completely ignoring her existence, so, after scribbling down everyone else’s orders, she turned her eyes to Jeno.

“Coke with ten pieces of ice and a burger.”

(y/n) nodded, writing all of the information down and shuffled off to the counter again.

“Do we really have to be that mean to her? She looked like she was going to cry,” Renjun muttered.

Jaemin rolled his eyes.

Jeno nodded in agreement to Renjun. Her face was sullen and her eyes glistened with tears that hadn’t fallen. His heart sank at the thought that maybe something had happened at home or that their words had finally gotten to her. In all the time they’d been bullying her, she never once said anything much to them, and they’d never seen her cry.

“Do you think we should lay off her?” he suggested.

Donghyuck and Jaemin snorted at the same time.

“Why would we do that?” Donghyuck asked.

Jeno shook his head. His friends could be such assholes sometimes. They wouldn’t even stop for someone that seems to be almost crying, they just use it to play more games. More buttons to press.

“If you’re so worried, Jeno, go check on her,” Chenle challenged.

“Yeah, go check on her!” Jaemin cackled.

Jeno shook his head and sighed, getting out of the booth. He knew very well what they expected him to do, or at least, what they wanted him to do, but he didn’t know if he could take calling her names anymore. Not when it felt like his soul was screaming at him not to.

He didn’t have much of a choice as he made his way over to her, however. He couldn’t control what his friends wanted and what he was obligated to give.

He moved up behind her and while her back was turned, he brought his hand down hard on her butt as his friends cackled loudly from their table. Jeno’s ears burned in embarrassment and guilt. If his mother knew what he’d just done, she’d be dragging him out of the snack shack by his ear.

He didn’t really know what to expect from (y/n). What he didn’t expect however, was her body whirling around rapidly, her hand raising angrily, and the sharp stinging sensation across his cheek.

“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! I HAVE DONE NOTHING TO YOU, AND YET ALL YOU ARE YOUR ASSHOLE BUDDIES WANNA DO IS BULLY ME! WELL PISS OFF! I DON’T NEED THIS!” she screamed.

Jeno’s eyes widened. This was new…

“YOU ARE A BUNCH OF PUNKASS BOYS WITH NOTHING BETTER TO DO, BUT I SWEAR THE NEXT TIME I HEAR A COMMENT ABOUT MY WEIGHT, CLOTHES, OR HAIR, OR ANYONE TOUCHEs ME, I WILL SHOVE MY FAT FOOT UP YOUR BUTTHOLE!” she screamed angrily.

The cackling from the table had stopped as the boys gaped at their waitress in shock.

“AND YOU IDIOTS CAN GET YOUR OWN DAMN BURGERS!”

The snack shack had gone deathly quiet. Jeno stood as still as a statue, face still stinging, but not quite as painful now. The outburst from this usually quiet and reserved girl shocked him to his very core, but it also made him feel worse. Sure, the ice throwing, name calling, and excessively stupid orders had added fuel to the fire, but it was Jeno’s action that had thrown her over the edge.

“I-I’m… sorry…” he stammered out.

“DON’T SAY SORRY TO ME AFTER THE HELL YOU’VE PUT ME THROUGH!” she screamed.

Jeno’s heart pounded in his chest and his eyes gazed at her fearfully.

“I think it’s time you go home, (y/n), calm down and come back tomorrow,” the owner of the snack shack said, walking out of his office.

(y/n) nodded and let out a sniffle. Jeno didn’t know when she’d started crying. She grabbed the bag the owner handed her before running out of the shack.

“And you, young man. You and your boys get out of my shack. You’re all banned for a week. Come back in here acting like that and you’ll be banned permanently,” he said, eyes fixed angrily on Jeno.

Jeno turned to look back at his gang and sighed, waving a hand for them all to follow.

After the incident, Jeno hadn’t felt much like going on a ride with the rest of the gang. They were all perfectly fine, cackling and talking about the outburst, but Jeno couldn’t stomach it. The way she’d screamed. How upset she’d looked. He was done being a bully. Now he just needed to figure out how to go from bully to courting her, if that were even possible.

He parked his bike beside Jaehyun’s again, happy to see his brother was home and not at the rusty body shop he worked at.

He ran into the house, taking the front steps two at a time, and when he was inside, he made his way to the room he shared with Jaehyun.

“I need to borrow your boombox!” he yelled at the male.

Jaehyun, clearly not expecting the sudden intrusion, jumped off the small bed, stuffing the adult rated magazine he’d been “reading” under his mattress. Jeno rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time to find ways to ruin Jaehyun’s relationship with his girlfriend or rat him out to their mother.

“I. need. Your. boom. Box!” he enunciated.

Jaehyun stared at him incredulously.

“Uh… Why?” he asked.

Jeno shook his head angrily and shoved past Jaehyun to siffle through his side of the room searching for the large, heavy, cassette playing boombox his brother had bought a month ago.

“I need it to fix my (y/n) situation!” Jeno explained as he searched.

Jaehyun groaned.

“Movies aren’t real! That won’t work!”

Jeno ignored him. The guy always showed up at the window of the girl he was hoping to impress and the girl always forgave him. It’d work. It had to.

Jeno grabbed the large boombox from beneath Jaehyun’s bed, groaning at the weight. He heard Jaehyun sigh.

“Good luck then.”

Jeno didn’t need it. This would work. It had to work.

The ride to (y/n)’s house had proven to be a bit difficult as he struggled to hold the boombox against him. The box was large and heavy, with a small cassette player at the top that already had his chosen tape resting inside it.

The trip over was one of many stops and repositionings in an attempt not to drop the box that could very well make everything alright. He could just imagine her grinning in glee and running down to meet him, forgiving him for everything he’d ever done to hurt her.

By the time he got to her house, dusk was falling. He had maybe ten minutes before darkness engulfed the sky. Ten minutes in which he’d be tasked with making everything better.

He moved around the side of the common two story house and found (y/n)’s window easily. She appeared to be dancing to the music playing from the vinyl record player he could almost see perched by the window. It brought a smile to his lips. She looked so happy and carefree.

He could watch her all night, but he was here for a reason. He had to apologize for everything he’d ever done and confess.

He found a rock likely from her driveway by her window in the grass and picked it up. It was only one so he had to make it count.

He pressed play on the cassette player portion of the boombox and ‘It’s sad to belong’ came flowing out melodically from the speakers.

”Met you on a springtime day,”

He threw the rock hard against her window, flinching as he heard the rock bounce off. He was surprised it hadn’t broken the window.

”You were mindin’ your life and I was mindin’ mine too. The window opened and Jeno’s heart hammered in his chest.

“(y/f/n) (y/l/n)! I am so in love with you it hurts. I am so sorry for everything I’ve ever done to hurt you! All the bullying. All the teasing. I’m so sorry. You’re not fat or ugly! You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen! I just couldn’t show it! But I don’t care what my friends think! I love you! I want to be with you! I want to court you! Please forgive me!” he pleaded, not giving the girl a chance to say anything.

When he finished speaking, the song was nearing an end and his body was shaking. The girl looked almost close to tears again and Jeno grew hopeful that in any second, she’d run downstairs and jump into his arms.

“Yes it’s sad to belong to someone else when the right one comes along.”

“You love me huh? Well you have a funny way of showing it,” she sneered.

The window slammed shut and the drapes were immediately dropped, leaving Jeno alone in the darkness of the evening, his hopes dashed across the grass.

He’d waited too long to apologize.

150 notes · View notes

nirikeehan · 3 years

Note

Happy Friday!!!! Might I suggest "Overdose" for Cullen and Samson? <3

Ahhhh thank you thank you thank you I have been dying to write these two for ages!!!

Boy did I go overboard with this one. I have head canon for days about how their friendship is complicated and morally ambiguous and I threw ALL OF THAT in here. Along with some deep meditation on the institutional corruption in the Templars and how they use lyrium addiction to control those in their ranks. Oh and a knife fight.

for @dadrunkwriting and @badthingshappenbingo

Overdose, Part Two: And Some Elegance

Despite what I'm calling it, this a standalone story, but it does answer questions posed in Part One. They are linked thematically but you definitely don't need to read the first part to understand this one.

Series: Dragon Age 2 and Dragon Age: Inquisition (this happens in the gap between the two)

Word Count: 5822 (I... cannot be stopped apparently)

Characters: Cullen Rutherford, Raleigh Samson, Rylen, brief cameo from my Hawke, discussion of Meredith tho she is not around for obvious reasons

CW: Drug use, drug addiction, PTSD, Samson has a potty mouth, canon typical violence

---

“Knight-Commander? Do you have a minute?”

Cullen tore his gaze away from the window. The Gallows’ inner courtyard was in full bloom this time of year, and he frequently found his eyes wandering to the hanging vines and large, fragrant flowers. It was a deceptive beauty, on full display from Meredith’s office. His office now. And still he could scare believe it, despite sitting at the desk himself, in her chair, the stacks of parchments and reports piling up with his own penmanship scribbled on them.

“Of course, Rylen. You may come in.”

The templar from Starkhaven entered with a bow that Cullen found unnecessary, but did not have the energy to contest. Rylen and his contingent had been a gift from the Maker these long, dark months, helping him and the few loyal Kirkwall templars pull the city from the brink of ruin. Rylen held out a file. “The report you requested from the City Guard just arrived. Signed by Guard-Captain Vallen herself.”

Cullen took the file, frowning. “Aveline didn’t have to do that. It was a trifle of a favor…”

Rylen shrugged. “She’s grateful. A lot of people are. Without us, half of Kirkwall would still be on fire.” He smirked. “I’ve heard rumors around town that they want to nominate you for the next viscount.”

“Shut your mouth,” Cullen warned, which only made his second-in-command laugh. “You know I’d rather have a spike driven through my head than run this city permanently.”

“That’s always the way,” Rylen said wistfully. “Those most suited to the position don’t want it.”

Cullen did not dignify this statement with a response. Instead, he dropped the file on the desk and opened it. After a few moments, he let out a bone-weary sigh.

“If you don’t mind my asking, ser,” Rylen said carefully, “what is this about?”

“I had a hunch. I asked the City Guard to trace the smuggling of illegal lyrium into the city.” Since the attack on the Chantry which had left Cullen in charge of the Kirkwall Templars, one of the longterm problems he’d inherited had been the leaking of lyrium onto the streets. It didn’t take long to find the culprits within the Order. Most of them had deserted their posts to fight in the Mage-Templar war; the stragglers had been caught by internal security and were serving time in the city jail. That should have ended the problem, but lyrium still wound up among the vulnerable populations of Kirkwall all the same — and there were more and more of those lately, since the city’s infrastructure had been all but destroyed. Cullen had wanted to know why. The City Guard found an outside force at work, and he’d requested names. The report confirmed his suspicions. “Samson.”

“Your former colleague?” Rylen asked. The two had never met, but Samson had a reputation that preceded him. “He’s moved on from trafficking mages to dealing drugs?”

“So it would appear.” And why not? There were no more mages in need of secret passage from Kirkwall. The Circles had been dissolved; every mage was now an apostate. They had their own networks and secret bases and sources of funding. They didn’t need a washed up former templar helping them for petty cash. “I had hoped… after the Chantry explosion, he would… would…”

What? Reform himself and return to the Templars, a depleted force that sorely needed him? Act as contrite as he had that day on the Wounded Coast, when he’d tried to convince Cullen and Hawke he should be reinstated? That was a fantasy dashed. Cullen had mistakenly believed the only obstacle standing between Samson and an honorable career was Meredith’s tyranny.

Samson had never arrived. At first Cullen feared him a casualty of the bloodbath that had followed the radical mage Anders’ attack, but after they had cleared the rubble and counted up the bodies, Raleigh Samson was not among them. He must have fled Kirkwall, with scores of other refugees… or so Cullen had believed. Now, many months later, with the illegal lyrium trade starting up again, seeing Samson’s name on the report signed by Aveline did not surprise Cullen as much as he wished it would.

Sensing his troubled thoughts, Rylen cleared his throat. “Seems to me, Knight-Commander, there’s two types of people who join our ranks. Some, like you and me, want to make the world a better place.” Cullen shot him a sharp look; they’d spent too many late nights together despairing the degeneration of the Order for Rylen to espouse such an uncritical view. His Knight-Captain quickly added, “Though it is debatable whether we’ve succeeded, despite our best efforts.”

Cullen let out a slow breath. “And?”

“Some people just like wielding power and a sword.” Rylen cocked his head. “Which type do you reckon your friend Samson is?”

Cullen narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t know him.”

“No, I suppose not.” Rylen nodded toward the file. “That say where he is?”

“There’s an address. Darktown. It notes he hasn’t been seen in a few days, though.”

“You want me to send some knights to knock on his door? If we find him, we can bring him in for questioning.”

“No,” Cullen said, with abrupt firmness. “He’ll respond better to a familiar face. I’ll go.”

“Alone?” Rylen looked doubtful. “You sure, Knight-Commander?”

His tone betrayed his true thoughts: not only did Rylen consider field work beneath Cullen, but dangerous as well.

“I’ll be all right. Besides…” Cullen flashed a weary grin. “It will be good to get off the Gallows.”

—

Cullen left without his armor. Arriving in Darktown in full plate emblazoned with the Templar crest had never done one any favors, even before the Chantry explosion. He entertained no illusions: dressed in civilian clothes, unshaven and with dark circles under his eyes, hair curling wildly in the oppressive humidity, he blended in with the average resident of Kirkwall’s underbelly just fine.

On his way to the ferry, he skirted the outer courtyard where he had once patrolled as Knight-Captain, when the Kirkwall Circle still had charges and his life still had a semblance of normalcy. Now it was a place best avoided, given that the petrified Meredith Stannard dominated the space, glittering scarlet in the sun. Cullen had only dared glance in twice since that fateful day, and both times had lost his breakfast shortly thereafter. The red lyrium statue had proven difficult to remove, between its heavy mass and the tendency for everyone who got too close to start hallucinating. He’d have to hire some dwarves one of these days. It was one more task on a list that never ended.

It did feel good to get off the Gallows. The salty air blew in cool and refreshing, and from the harbor the damage didn’t look so bad. The effect was depressingly short-lived. As soon as he stepped off the boat, he was accosted by beggars. Cullen demurred quietly, resolving to bring up the homelessness issue at the next city council meeting, and made sure to look each in the face. Child and elder and all ages in between, but none of the gazes had the hard grey eyes of his old friend.

He followed the sloping roads and cracked stairs to Darktown, repeating Samson’s alleged address in his mind. The buildings grew ramshackle, loiterers multiplied, and loose trash piled up on the street. Sandbags and spiked barricades still littered the area, though open violence had creased months prior. Once the sun disappeared, Cullen shivered despite the heat. It had pained him for years, to think of what had happened to Samson. The most undignified of falls, especially for someone whom Cullen had once thought to possess such bravado and charm.

Memories surfaced, tinged with nostalgia: Samson and his easy smile, feet splayed on the table in the dormitory’s common room, fixing him with a surprised look. What, you’ve never played Wicked Grace? Pull up a chair and I’ll teach you, kid. When Cullen tried to beg off, saying he had to go study the Chant of Light, Samson let out a full belly laugh. Bleeding hell, does no one in Ferelden know how to have any fun? Come on, I won’t tell Andraste if you don’t.

So Cullen had learned to play Wicked Grace.

He had learned other things as well. All the small methods by which Samson bent the rules, with a casual boldness that shocked a younger Cullen. And Samson could talk his way out of anything: why he had snuck in past curfew, stinking of the Blooming Rose; where that stash of Blackwater Rum had come from; why Ser Alrik’s ceremonial armor was smudged brown with obscenities, after the complaint of the fifth consecutive mage had gone ignored.

Once, in the wee hours of the morning, a nightmare had awoken Cullen into a shivering mess. He paced the corridors like a vengeful ghost, trying to outrun a dead man. He remembered nothing aside from his hands around Uldred’s throat, squeezing, but still could not dislodge the terror. He was so distracted he nearly ran down Samson where he leaned in a shadowy alcove, exhaling from a hand-rolled cigarette out the open window.

“You do this a lot,” Samson observed.

Ashamed, Cullen dropped his gaze to the floor. Rumors had accompanied him from Kinloch Hold, ones he’d never cared to address, and the other knights gave him a wide berth. Most of them, anyway. Samson studied him with a calm curiosity, acrid tendrils of smoke curling up from between his fingers. For a mortifying moment, Cullen thought he might burst into tears.

Samson cracked a lopsided smile, saving him. “I know what you need.” He tossed the cigarette out the window; one hand disappeared into a lapel pocket, the other grabbed Cullen by the wrist. Samson pressed a glass cylinder into his palm and closed his fist around it. “Something to take the edge off.”

Cullen opened his hand and stared at the vial of lyrium, warm to the touch, luminescent. As they often did, words failed him. “You— but— this is— what about you?”

He was inarticulately asking why Samson would sacrifice his own ration for someone he could barely call an acquaintance, but judging by the mischief in his eyes, Samson misinterpreted his words. “Don’t mind if I do.” He pulled another vial from his pocket and made an extravagant show of unscrewing the cap.

This was becoming too strange for Cullen to bear. Like every templar he’d ever met, he hoarded his lyrium rations under lock and key, taking the required dosage every morning after prayer and not a drop extra. Samson about to squander two full days’ worth with a half-mad insomniac in the dead of night.

“But what will you do when you run out?” Cullen blurted.

“Ah.” Something in Samsom’s smile darkened. “You ever notice, kid, just how paltry the Chantry’s lyrium allotment is? It’s like they want to give us just enough to keep us hungry for more. And if we’re hungry, we’re obedient.”

Cullen had not, in fact, noticed this, but he had noticed the soothing vibration radiating from the bottle into his hand. The blue glow captivated, creating an aura across his vision.

Samson chuckled. “It sings to you, don’t it?”

Cullen swallowed hard. “You stole this.” It sounded more like an accusation than he wanted it to.

Samson’s gaze hardened. “I prefer to call it getting an advance. They’re required to feed it to us our whole lives, you know. Even after we go loopy from the stuff in our old age. I’d rather enjoy it now, while I still can.” He held up the bottle as if in a toast. “You joining me or what, Rutherford?”

It was the first time Samson had called him anything other than kid; Cullen didn’t know whether to consider it an invitation or a threat. He grew aware of just how out in the open they were. If one of the senior knights were to find them here, about to binge on contraband—

“I can’t,” he protested, watching himself open the vial.

“Sure you can,” Samson said. “Live a little, eh? A bit extra won’t kill you. I promise, whatever demons you got rattling around in your skull will be chased right out.”

Cullen liked to think he hesitated longer than that, but he couldn’t be sure. He only remembered clinking bottles, and Samson saying, “Cheers, mate.” The two took the hit together; illicit laughter followed, fueled by the elated rush. For the first time in ages, Cullen felt like he’d made a friend.

The memory disintegrated. It was eight years later, and Cullen was Knight-Commander of Kirkwall, staring at the Darktown shanty that stood at Samson’s last known address.

—

A knock on the door went unanswered. Cullen rapped his knuckles against the splintered wood once every couple of minutes and scanned his surroundings. The hovel occupied the bleak end of an alley, abutting a sheer rock wall. The nearest lantern hung several yards away, casting him deep in shadow.

The entire area seemed deserted, and none more so than Samson’s residence. Something about its lifelessness set Cullen’s nerves on edge. He hadn’t wanted to consider why Samson vanished days ago, but now the possibilities piled up in his mind, each less pleasant than the one before.

The front facade had no windows, and shouting his intentions wasn’t likely to yield favorable results. With a quick glance around, Cullen tried the door. Locked. Unsurprising, but inconvenient all the same. The Kirkwall Templars had possessed the authority to enter a premises unannounced for over a decade, but he preferred not to damage property on the way in.

He walked the perimeter at a casual pace, a cover story about buying lyrium coming to him with discomforting ease. The threat of a lowly addict’s life had long haunted him, once Samson was expelled from the Order. The tension among the other knights had been palpable. Even Cullen, already Knight-Captain, felt the strain. He counted up the times in which he’d joined Samson for a “night cap” of lyrium, as his friend had dubbed it. Although it didn’t amount to terribly many — perhaps a dozen across a few years — Cullen doubted that would matter to Meredith if she had come so undone over some love letters. He had walked around on eggshells, waiting to learn that on his way out the door, Samson had disclosed the improprieties of Meredith’s own second-in-command.

It never happened. Nor did anyone else incur punishment. Whatever secrets Samson bore about his fellow templars, he kept them to himself. Perhaps that was what propelled Cullen forward with the belief that Samson could be reasoned with: he had been a good friend once, and loyal. Even so, the Champion of Kirkwall herself urged Cullen not to trust him. He was full of inconsistencies, Hawke had said. Samson claimed to care about mage rights one day, as long as it made him a copper; the next he insisted Meredith was correct and they needed to be reined in. Reinstate him if you like, Hawke had said later, in the privacy of Cullen’s office, but don’t come to me for help when your lyrium supply goes missing. That’s all he cares about in the end.

Cullen hadn’t submitted the recommendation to Meredith on Samson’s behalf. It seemed like too much of a risk, at the time.

The side of the hut possessed a squarish opening, what passed for a window in these parts. Cullen crouched and peered inside, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He’d learned as a recruit that even the most innocuous spaces could harbor someone ready to attack, and his hand hovered near his boot where he’d tucked a dagger. Minutes passed, but nothing stirred. The furniture was minimal: a sleeping pallet on the floor, cooking pot over a cold fire pit, stacks of empty crates.

Tentatively satisfied no one would come at him swinging, Cullen climbed in the window. Straightening, he pulled a candle from his pocket and lit it. If anything, illumination made the place more despondent, not less. The hovel comprised only one room, and was devoid of personal effects or stores of food. Cullen wondered whether the City Guard’s report had given the correct address. He doubted anyone had lived here for months.

He searched the spare abode regardless. He had conducted hundreds of home raids in his Templar career, pulled mages from hiding spots he would have deemed too small to fit a nug, let alone a person. The desperate were nothing if not inventive.

Can’t say I miss the work. Tear-stained faces and pleading relatives, stray fists and raking nails, staying calm as yet another stranger called him a heartless bastard — such things wore one down. He hadn’t joined the Templar Order to inflict misery, and hadn’t relished it, even when he’d most fervently believed they were in the right.

Maybe it’s just as well the Circles are gone, he thought, but the reminder that mages and templars alike were out there killing each other over it depressed him. He’d seen enough senseless violence in Kirkwall to last a lifetime. He couldn’t understand anyone who wanted to keep it going, whether in the name of freedom or order or anything else. As he had in his youth, Cullen yearned for a just cause to rally behind. Aside from keeping the city from falling back into chaos, he couldn’t fathom what that could be — nor whether the Templars had any business participating, if one existed.

While moving aside the rotted crates, his boot caught on a seam. Cullen knelt and brought his candle closer to the ground. Someone had arranged the stacks in the precise configuration to conceal a trap door. He grabbed the large metal ring and pulled. A yawning door opened in the floor. From below came the sound of dripping water and the faint gleam of torchlight.

Rylen had been right: coming alone was a bad idea. He should return to the Gallows for backup. It was one thing to visit an old friend in his own home, quite another to enter an unfamiliar passage armed with nothing but a dagger. Darktown was full of such tunnels. Some stretched all the way to the Wounded Coast, favored by smugglers, pirates and other assorted ne’er-do-wells.

So which are you, Samson?

He wasn’t angry, or even disappointed. The whole business had an air of inevitability, something he’d been expecting since he first saw Samson’s name in that report.

Whatever happened to him, I’ve contributed to it.

Cullen blew out the candle and lowered himself into the hole.

—

He heard the sea before he saw it. The narrow tunnel he’d followed for the better part of an hour opened into a wide grotto. The afternoon sun cast long rays of light between jutting rocks and shimmering water, suffusing everything with an orange glow.

Cullen approached slowly, keeping to the shadows. He did not hear voices nor movement, but someone lived here. Ornate pieces of furniture were strewn about: a desk, a wardrobe, a sideboard laden with overripe fruit and loose gold coins. On the far side, the rock floor gave way to the water, where a rowboat bobbed. Beside it stood several stacked crates, and these did not look empty. Cullen did not recognize the symbol painted on it, but took note of the skull-like face with a red bar over its eyes.

On a divan sprawled a figure who looked like he’d been thrown there. He lay on his back, one arm and one leg hanging to the ground. Cullen ran over, fearing he was too late. It took several pained seconds to notice the other man’s chest still rose and fell.

Cullen let out a sigh in relief and frustration. “Samson.” No response. “Samson.”

“Mrrrsgh?” After a long moment, Samson cracked one eye and stared up at Cullen as if they’d never met.

It was, perhaps, true enough. It couldn’t have been more than a year since they’d last seen each other, but Samson looked gaunter. His dark hair had begun to thin in front. His face was sloppily unshaven, the space around his eyes sunken. Although his clothes looked less shabby, the man himself seemed to be slowly disintegrating.

“Well, well,” Samson slurred, his eyes narrowed into slits. “If it isn’t Knight-Commander Cullen.”

Cullen was taken aback by his animosity. All of the measured words he had planned to say evaporated. “Samson,” he demanded, “what are you doing here?”

“Getting some goddamn sleep. Or at least I was, before you showed up.” Samson groaned and pushed himself, with some effort, into a sitting position. “Should be asking you that question. Ain’t right, barging into a man’s own quarters without knocking first.”

He continued mumbling semi-intelligibly, face glistening with sweat. His eyes were bloodshot, pupils wide. Only then did Cullen notice the low table before them, crowded with empty vials and remnants of powder — the dust, Samson called it: lyrium in a raw, potent form. “You’re high.”

Samson brought his hands together in a slow clap. “Someone give the kid a prize. How long did it take to figure that one out, dog lord? What a genius. A real prodigy. No wonder they’re talking about making you viscount.”

“No one is making me viscount,” Cullen snapped.

“That’s not what I heard. I heard you single-handedly saved Kirkwall all by your lonesome. That they’re lining up from here to Hightown to suck your prick, if only you’d let ‘em.” Samson let out a grim chuckle. “Speaking of, how’s Meredith?”

Cullen punched him in the face. Samson stumbled onto all fours at his feet, coughing. Cullen stared at what he had done with a stunned horror.

Samson spat out a bit of saliva mixed with blood. “I forgot. Dogs do bite.”

Cullen shook out his hand, winced at the radiating pain. He’d probably broken a knuckle or two connecting with Samson’s jaw, but nothing hurt like the shame. It had been years since petty insults set him off. This was worse than unprofessional — he was supposed to be here appealing to Samson as an ally.

“I’m sorry,” he said, kneeling. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Damn right you shouldn’t have,” Samson retorted, but something in his feverish eyes softened. “Hell of a right hook you’ve got, though.”

Cullen let out a surprised laugh. That was the Samson he remembered. “Come on, let me help you up.”

He seized Samson under the armpit and dragged him onto the divan. Samson fairly melted into the cushions, his eyes slipping closed. Cullen stood by, trying to think of how to salvage this mess. His gaze returned to the table. It was difficult to tell how long some of the empty bottles had been there. “How much have you had?”

Samson waved his hand indistinctly in the air. There was a worrying grey tinge to his skin. Never mind the dilated pupils, perspiration, irritability… “Samson, you’re showing classic signs of lyrium overindulgence—”

“Who are you, my mum?”

If Samson had done too much lyrium, it would be irresponsible to leave him alone. But given how things had started off, staying around to monitor him might only escalate the situation further.

“I’d like to think I’m your friend,” Cullen said carefully, “but you haven’t exactly made it easy lately.”

“Oh, I haven’t made it easy? How many times did you come visit once that bitch kicked me out on my arse? Never seemed to find the time to make it down to the gutter, did you?” Samson cracked open his eyelids. “Then I put myself on the line to help you with them wild mages, hoping for my shield back, and you… what? Just conveniently forgot to bring it up with the Knight-Commander?”

Cullen swallowed hard, remembering Hawke’s words. “Meredith never would have tolerated something like this, I’ll tell you that much.”

Samson choked on a guffaw. “I’m glad she turned into a bloody statue. Got what she fucking deserved.”

Cullen took a deep breath to keep from hitting him again. It was the talk of Meredith he found so intolerable, even after he hadn’t been able to follow her into that final mad descent. It wasn’t just Samson, either. He had been circling it with anyone who cared to bring it up, and it always happened the same way: the freezing up, the difficulty breathing, the lashing out if pushed.

Samson had always known how to push.

“She wasn’t all bad, you know,” Cullen said hotly. Samson began to laugh, which only made him angrier. “I’m serious.”

“Don’t make it any less ridiculous.” Samson smirked. “She was a cunt and you know it.”

Cullen did not know why he rushed to defend her. “What if I told you Meredith saved my life?”

“Ha, sure she did. When?”

“When I first got to Kirkwall. You recall what I was like.” Cullen grimaced. It was a chore to think of himself back then. “If it wasn’t for Meredith, I don’t know what would have happened to me. Without her mentorship…”

“Nah, kid. You’re remembering it wrong. All she cared about was blind obedience.” Samson sat up. “I was there. You chased her approval, but you were always fair with people — mages, templars, whoever. I seen too many knights decide cruelty was the only way to get in good with her. You never did that. ’S the only reason I ever bothered with you, to be honest.” He pointed a decisive finger at Cullen. “Meredith didn’t save you. You saved yourself.”

Cullen opened his mouth, but closed it again. Something painful dislodged deep inside him and swam around in his chest. He sat down heavily on the divan, put his face in his hands. Samson gave him an absent pat on the shoulder.

“And now you’re Knight-Commander. How’s that feel?” When Cullen didn’t answer, he snorted. “Heavy lies the crown, eh?”

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up,” Cullen admitted. “With the Circles gone, and now the war… how long before the Knight-Vigilant makes a decree and we’re forced to join in? I’m not even sure I believe in what the Templars stand for anymore.”

“Change is in the wind, my friend,” Samson said. “And the whole Chantry can go piss in it, if you ask me.”

Cullen frowned. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

Samson sighed. “No, you never do. Always looking for an authority figure to tell you what a very good boy you are.” He leaned on an elbow and narrowed his eyes shrewdly. “You never wanna reach out and grab power for yourself. Don’t you think it would feel real good, just once?”

Cullen got the sense Samson was seeking an answer he didn’t know how to give. “Not really.”

“Lack of imagination, kid.” Samson shook his head. “That’s what’s wrong with you. You always gotta operate within these tiny boxes. You’ll never see the big picture that way.”

“All right.” Cullen was speaking with someone deep in a lyrium haze. “If you say so, Samson.”

“I do say so. You’ll see. One day, you’ll see.” He sat up abruptly, rubbing his hands together. “But hey, where’s my manners? You come all this way and I don’t even offer you a party favor.” He leaned over the table, searching through the detritus.

“Er,” Cullen said, remembering with an uncomfortable jolt the reason for his visit. “That’s not necessary.”

“C’mon, you’re Knight-Commander, who ya gonna snitch to? I ain’t even pinching from the Templar stores anymore. Got me a new supplier. His product is out of this world.”

“I’m sure it is,” Cullen said stiffly, “but don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“Pfft, me? I’m fine. I think it’s you who needs to relax.” He located a bottle of dark glass, shook it near his ear. “All this heavy nonsense about Meredith and the Templars… when was the last time you took a day off?”

Cullen thought back, and back. He couldn’t come up with an answer.

Samson snorted. “That’s what I thought. You ever do a hit of the dust? I got some liquid around here somewhere if you’d rather…”

“No, that’s… that’s all right. I really don’t need — anything.”

That wasn’t entirely true. He could feel the hunger uncoiling in him the longer they spoke of it. It was late in the day, his last dose near dawn this morning. The older he got the more he realized Samson had been right those years ago — the vials stayed the same size, but they satisfied less and less.

The bottle in Samson’s hand enticed. He hadn’t even opened it. Emanating from the bottle was a sweet music that Cullen felt rather than heard.

He stood before the sensation could overwhelm him. Samson laughed. “What did I tell you?”

“You weren’t kidding.” Cullen began to pace. I should leave. He was not in control of this situation — and maybe never had been.

“I mean it, you’ll feel amazing. Bloody invincible. My supplier knows what he’s doing.”

“And who’s your supplier?” Cullen feigned polite indifference.

“He prefers to remain anonymous. For now. I’ll take you to meet him if you’re curious. He’s got a whole new enterprise lined up, and we could use someone like you.” Samson poured something from the bottle, but Cullen didn’t dare look back. “What do you say? You’re wasted with the Templars, let’s be honest. You really wanna spend the rest of your days cleaning up Kirkwall’s trash?”

Cullen laughed uneasily. He pictured Samson’s supplier — some upstart from Orzammar, probably, counting gold far below ground. “You mustn’t know me very well, if you think I’d leave the Templars to join the Carta, Samson.”

“Never said it was the Carta. You really gotta stop thinking in those tiny little boxes. My employer, he’s aiming bigger.”

Scraping sounds followed. Cullen glanced over his shoulder. Samson had a dagger in hand, dividing the substance into lines.

“How much bigger?” Cullen asked softly.

“Oh. Pretty big. Can’t say much more unless I know you’re on board.” His eyes gleamed. “Now are you gonna keep standing over there like a coward, or are you gonna start living your goddamn life?”

Shakily, Cullen returned to where Samson sat. In the glow of the setting sun, on a small looking glass, the powder glittered. The sight of it made his breath catch. “Samson, it’s red.”

“Yeah, so?”

Horror overcame the desire. “You’re bringing red lyrium into Kirkwall? After what it did to Meredith?”

“I think we’ve established I don’t give a flying fuck what happened to Meredith.” Samson shrugged. “So it’s a different color, kid, what’s the big deal?”

Cullen grabbed the looking glass and threw it as hard as he could. It hit a rock wall and shattered, raining down shards and a cloud of crimson dust.

“Bleeding hell.” Samson leapt to his feet. “What the fuck is the matter with you, huh?”

“The matter with me?” Cullen pushed past him, storming over to the crates emblazoned with the ghoulish face. He ripped off the top of the highest crate, his swollen knuckles protesting. A wave of humming undulation hit him. Inside were bottles and bottles, ready for consumption. “I know what this stuff does, Samson. I saw her go mad. I saw her transform.” He whirled. “And you’re ingesting it? You want to sell it?”

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” Samson said quietly. He stood in a patch of shadow, the dagger gripped in his hand. “I’ve been very kind to you so far today. I don’t think you want to see me angry.”

Cullen tilted his head. “Is that a threat?”

“Oh, I assure you it is.”

In a few short strides, Samson could reach him. Cullen’s own dagger was still tucked into his boot, and his sword hand was already bruised. He raised his hands in hesitant surrender.

“That’s right, nice and slow. You ain’t gonna do anything stupid now, are you?”

Cullen considered his options. He was almost certainly going to do something stupid. “Drawing a blade on the Knight-Commander of Kirkwall isn’t the smartest move I’ve seen, either.”

Samson sighed. He sounded genuinely apologetic. “I thought we were friends, Cullen.”

“We were.” Cullen swallowed hard.

Samson motioned with the dagger. “Over here. Away from the product, if you please.”

Cullen stood his ground. “Is the lyrium really worth that much to you?”

“You don’t understand.” Samson took a step closer. “I’m trying to save you from what’s coming.”

“And what is that?”

A tiny smile crossed Samson’s face. “A reckoning.”

Cullen lifted a foot and kicked viciously backward, enough to set the stack of lyrium crates off balance. They toppled into the water; panic flashed across Samson’s face. “No!” He lunged forward.

Cullen dropped into a crouch and wrenched the dagger from his boot. He was clumsier with his off hand, and he brought the blade up to parry Samson’s blow almost too late. Steel clashed against steel, and Cullen gritted his teeth, pushing back with everything he had. Samson was far stronger than he’d been hoping, stronger than he had a right to be, even when sober.

“You son of a bitch,” Samson spat, slashing again and again. “That’s bloody irreplaceable. The red stuff’s so delicate!”

Good, Cullen thought. If he was going to die for this, at least he knew more red lyrium wouldn’t find its way onto Kirkwall’s streets. He knocked aside a blow aimed at his face and grabbed Samson around the knees, tackling him.

They fought, kicking and rolling, swinging and dodging steel. At last, Cullen landed a lucky blow and the dagger went skittering out of Samson’s hand. Cullen’s blade stopped at his throat. Samson froze, and for several seconds the only sound came from the waves crashing outside the cove.

“Go on, then.” Samson chuckled, but fear flickered in his eyes. “End it.”

Cullen shook his head. He moved away, struggled to his feet. He kept the dagger pointed at Samson, bent over to catch his breath. “You will leave Kirkwall,” he said at last. “For good. I don’t care where you go, but when I come back with the City Guard, this place had better be empty.”

“That’s it?” Samson demanded. “After all that?”

“That’s it.” Cullen lowered the blade. “This is lunacy. It was bad enough with Meredith. I won’t watch it consume you too.” He limped away. He had bashed a knee in the scuffle, and his side ached where Samson’s dagger grazed him.

Cullen turned back only once. Samson remained on the ground, growing smaller in the fading daylight. “The next time I see you, I’ll arrest you myself.”

He was well into the tunnel when he heard Samson’s final words, low and fervent as a vow.

“The next time you see me, you’ll wish that you hadn’t.”

---

Notes: I was confused for ages why Samson calls lyrium “the dust” in DA2 when in the games we only see people drinking it like Koolaid, until I saw in the World of Thedas there is mention of a powder form. So yes I am positing you can snort powdered lyrium for a bigger high and no I am not taking questions at this time.

Also relevant is that the World of Thedas mentions something about Samson having an increased dependence on regular lyrium which also gives him higher immunity to red lyrium. I definitely played around with that here. I was envisioning an amount that would kill Cullen (as shown in part one) would probably just get Samson super high but he’d be okay. And with red lyrium, even stronger/more cognizant than normal, which allows him to get the drop on Cullen later.

I find it kind of hilarious how so much of Inquisition harps on the danger of red lyrium, but then during his side quest, Cullen, an established lyrium addict, follows you into the Shrine of Dumat amid giant red lyrium crystals and seems perfectly fine. (Once I turned around and he was standing ON one and I literally screamed, “CULLEN, NO.”) I’ve always wanted to write something where he is tempted by red lyrium, you know, at least a little.

#cullen rutherford #raleigh samson #Samson is the friend who will get you high when what you really need is therapy #This is Law & Order: Kirkwall for a bit #Cullen does some detective work and I’m here for it tbh #fics #dragon age drunk writing circle #bad things happen bingo #dragon age inquisition #dragon age 2

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inkykeiji · 3 years

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Hi Clari!!! I hope you're doing well and had an amazing weekend! I'm sorry if you've already answered something like this before! 😊

I was having big thoughts about the twins, but then I couldn't remember if you'd mentioned the other Todoroki siblings existing in this AU!?!

You may have done and I just missed it, but if the other siblings already do, and if not, did exist in the AU, what would the twins relationship be like with them?

I can imagine Touya being the more approachable of the two, I feel he'd click quite well with Fuyumi perhaps? They both give me those sort of caregiver vibes 😅

Natsuo and Dabi I can imagine being close, not quite as close as in the Touya - Nii series, but I can still imagine Natsuo looking up to both his big brothers because they're so cool! (Dabi is just that smidge cooler to him though 😌)

Would Shoto still be Enji's perfect poster boy, or would Touya have taken that spot?

Would the twins be open to sharing the reader with Natsuo like Touya-Nii did in the Snowman and Me series? Or is it strictly something kept between the twins?

Do the Todoroki family know about the reader and the twins relationship? Do they approve?

There are just too many thoughts for my one track mind 😩😌

It'd be really interesting to know your take! --- The anon who dreamt about living with Dabi on a ranch 🐥

hello sweetpea!!!! oh you’re so lovely <33 thank you bb i hope you had a wonderful weekend as well!!! <3

BUT ANONNNN I AM SHOUTING HAHAHAHA oh my gosh okay first of all you and i have got to be on the same wavelength today bb hehehe because i haven’t mentioned their relationship with the other todoroki siblings much on my blog but i do have (and have had) their relationships with each mapped out in my notebook for months now and i was literally looking it over when you sent this in!! <33

AH SO MANY GOOD QUESTIONS LET’S GET INTO IT WEEEEEEE <3

so first i’m going to link you to this post (which kinda just delves into their relationship with each other but touches upon other relationships in the family) and this post (which discusses dabi’s reaction to yelling and touches upon his trauma related to enji; pls heed the tws!!) but to reiterate and all that:

twin!touya pretty much gets along with all of his siblings in some way. he’s the perfect model of an older brother. as i mentioned in the first post linked above, touya is just really good at playing the part. twin!dabi, on the other hand, barely gets along with anyone other than his twin. he’s extremely difficult to be around about 97% of the time.

natsuo definitely does think both of his older brothers are super super cool, and he follows them around like a puppy when they’ll let him, but he’s actually closer to twin!touya than he is to twin!dabi, simply because twin!dabi won’t let him get too close; dabi’s extreme trust issues get in the way. still, natsuo was the only one there for dabi when touya had been taken from him, and that forged quite a lasting and deep bond, even if it terrifies dabi to this day, even if dabi tries his very hardest to shove natsuo away because of it, even if it’s still extremely complex; a jumbled, tangled mess in his heart. but natsuo understands, and he’s nothing if not resilient, so he kinda just bounces back from it each and every time. but twin!touya has a special soft spot for natsuo, because natsuo was there to take care of his baby twin brother when he wasn’t, and to touya, that means the whole world to him <3 touya hopes that one day his twin will let his guard down enough to let natsuo into his heart, too.

fuyumi is incredibly suspicious of twin!touya. she’s smart as a whip, just like he is, and she can read him like a book and knows when he’s up to something; and he’s always up to something. all she wants is for her family to get along, for god’s sake, and she knows touya’s a threat to that, because he knows how ridiculously manipulative he is, and how he’s planning something against their father—fuyumi is the only of the todoroki siblings that actually has sympathy for their father. thus, even though touya has told her time and again not to worry about it, that everyone will be happy in the end, she knows ‘the end’ does not include their father in any way, shape, or form. still, with that being said, they get along quite well, and they’re constantly throwing teasing quips each other’s way <3 when it comes to twin!dabi, fuyumi’s heart positively breaks for him. he shoves her away, too, because he doesn’t know how to deal with her overwhelming love, but that does not deter her in the slightest. she was there, she witnessed what happened to him, she helped natsuo take care of him in every way she could; in fact, fuyumi took care of that entire family after her mother left. but she has such a soft spot for twin!dabi in her heart, a special type of unconditional love and sympathy for him, and she’ll always be there for him, no matter how many callous insults he spits her way. she views him akin to a terrified animal, and she understands why he lashes out, and sometimes—very rarely, but sometimes—he will let her take him into her arms and hold him, hug him, shush him. she was pretty much the mother he never had for those years when he was without his twin, even though she’s a little younger than he is. so there’s a very interesting, very complex bond there as well.

shouto loves both of his eldest brothers so much. twin!touya loves him back, thinks he’s an absolutely brilliant kid and such a kind, beautiful soul, but he can’t help but feel some resentment towards him; residual feelings that have been transferred from his twin to him. still, he tries to bury them, because he knows none of this is actually shouto’s fault, and that their father is the true villain here, the true one to blame. as i mentioned in the first post linked above, twin!dabi hates shouto with a fierce passion, because he feels betrayed for his twin, betrayed by the way their father so quickly found an (inferior, in his opinion) replacement for touya—to mold into the perfect puppet—and he himself feels a little slighted, too, angry and offended that their father didn’t even try to mold him in replacement of his twin and just went straight to the next ‘perfect’ child, because twin!dabi was too much work, he’s sure. shouto is terrified of dabi, but he looks up to touya with absolute stars in his eyes <3

rei feels incredibly guilty. she likes to pretend that she doesn’t know why she took only twin!touya when she really should’ve taken them both, and will regret for the rest of her life seperating the two of them for a few years. it was incredibly selfish of her, to snatch touya up only because she knew it would hurt her husband the most, and to leave twin!dabi and the rest of her children there with such a brute for a father. dabi hates her for it, and she doesn’t blame him. she hopes one day he can find it in his heart to forgive her for such a horrible mistake, but she knows it’s a slim possibility. she is very, very close to twin!touya though.

i have already touched upon their relationship with enji in the posts linked above, but basically twin!touya IS still enji’s favourite, and enji only latched onto shouto after rei took touya away (during the divorce). touya is still first in line for the family business, and shouto acts as more or less of a back-up, in case touya fails. he’s also easier to control, which is quite appealing to enji, too.

and then, as you can tell, the twins themselves have a very, very unhealthy codependency on each other; they can barely function without one another now <3

ANYWAY LOVELY, THOSE ARE THEIR RELATIONSHIPS WITH THE SIBLINGS + THEIR PARENTS!!! to answer your last few questions:

would the twins be open to sharing the reader with natsuo like touya-nii did in the snowman and me series? or is it strictly something kept between the twins?

no, they absolutely would not share her with natsuo, this is something very special and sacred and kept strictly between them <3

do the todoroki family know about the reader and the twins relationship? do they approve?

EHEHEHEHE this is something i’m really really looking forward to exploring in the future of the series!!! because the angst potential is totally insane hehe <3 the answer is, it’s extremely complicated. enji doesn’t approve at all. like, at ALL. he hates to think what the press would think, if this ever got out, and he knows dabi would be more than willing to leak it; anything to hurt his father, right? natsuo thinks it’s SO awesome and super hot, fuyumi thinks it’s quite cute how they share everything, but worries for the poor sweet reader since she knows how her brothers can be, and shouto can’t even think about it without blushing and getting super embarrassed; he isn’t really sure what he thinks yet, but he feels like it’s more their business than his own. rei is on the fence; she wants her boys to be happy, but is this really the best and healthiest way to do it? does she even have a say in it at all? is it really her place or her right to step up and say something? she isn’t sure.

i hope this answers all of your questions bb!!!! thank you so much for asking aaaah i LOVE talking about stuff like this and i am super super excited to explore it deeper within the series!!!! AH EHEHE I REMEMBER U AND UR DREAM <3333 aw such a cute lil chick emoji 🥺🥺 i hope you’re doing wonderful my friend and i wish you many more touya dreams in the future <3

#SUCH GOOOOOOD QUESTIONS!!!! THANK U SO MUCH #SORRY MY POST IS SOOOOOO LONG HAHAHAHA i have pages upon pages of this in my journal so i tried to condense it and not give too much away <3 #i just wanted to capture the essence of each relationship and let u know <3 #if u have anymore questions pls let me know!!!!#have an amazing week sweetpea!!! <33 #i am sending u lots n lots of love and health!! as always pls stay safe!!#inky.bb #FARMER TOUYA DREAMER #LMAO <333 #clari gets mail #inky.twins #todoroki twins dabi and touya

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chaoslynx · 3 years

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hey, I'd like your input on a certain question I have pertaining to a hypothetical alternate ending of banana fish (the one where ash survives his stab wound). if you're not sure how to answer, that's completely fine, but I've seen so many people in the fandom claim so many different things about what would have happened if he survived, and I'm searching for a solid opinion.

I think the majority of the fandom can collectively agree that ash didn't need to die in order to heal from his trauma. I've see a lot of idiots say that even if ash lived, he would never heal or escape his past trauma, and so dying was the best outcome for his circumstances, which I'm sure the majority of us with more than 1 active braincell knows that's utter dog shit, and that survivors can heal no matter how big of a wound they may need treated.

however, I've seen people say that dying was his best option, NOT because he wouldn't have healed from his trauma, but because he wouldn't have the chance to heal considering the fact that he'd always be hunted down by his enemies. I've also seen people claim that even if he moved countries, he'd always be in constant danger because people would never stop looking for him. that he, as well as eiji, would have to live in fear and would never find peace due to the enemies ash has made during his lifetime.

I'm not sure what to think of this. I believe he'd be able to fake his death, borrow a new identity, and fake a passport to get on that damn plane headed to Japan. some have said that he wouldn't be able to due to his criminal record and so he'd never be allowed on a plane, which I also believe is dog shit. if that blond can scam millions of dollars out of and buy a condo right across from his #1 enemy without being caught, he can fucking travel. it's absurd how part of the fandom STILL underestimates his abilities, considering that he's shown time and time again of how capable and intelligent he truly is.

If you're able to answer, I'd like your opinion. we've established that survivors are able to heal no matter how big the baggage, but do you think he'd get the chance to heal, or would he always be on the run? would he forever be preoccupied with running from his enemies, or do you think his enemies would die trying to find him? I personally think that since his #1 enemy, D*no, is charred to a crisp, that he'd be somewhat safe from the rest. I don't think they'd even find him in an entirely different country in an entirely different continent.

but what do I know, honestly? maybe Yoshida confirmed that even if he did survive, he'd still be on the run until he died. I know she's said that murderers didn't deserve happy endings (bullshit, considering the circumstances that ash was in), but I'm not sure if she's clarified whether he would be on the run if he did hypothetically live. what do you think? no pressure :)

First of all, I'm a big fan of ignoring things Yoshida said.

I'm glad we agree that trauma survivors can heal! Also a big fan of that. Not gonna discuss that more here since we're already on the same page 💖

Before I get into whether or not Ash could ever escape from his enemies, I'd like to establish something about myself and my beliefs. I, personally, think that living is always going to be the better option. I am not going to be taking this question as a "could Ash have escaped his enemies, or is it good that he died?" That's not the problem here. The question I'll respond to below is "could Ash have escaped his enemies, or would he have always been on the run?"

This is an important distinction, because the first question implies that some lives just aren't worth living. I think your intentions here were good, so please don't take this as an attack on you in any way! But I'm not a fan of "living in fear [or living any other way] is worse than death" for a number of reasons. For one thing, dying is permanent. Once you die, there's never a chance of it getting better. It's literally a permanent solution to what often has the potential to be a temporary problem.

Also, any sort of "death is better" logic is a very slippery slope to be walking. If death is better than living in fear, is it also better than living with a permanent disability? With a chronic illness? At what point is it bad but still worth living through? Will Ash, on some level, always be living in fear due to what's likely post-traumatic stress disorder? Healing is obviously possible, but healing means learning how to cope better with a history of trauma, not getting rid of it.

So we're essentially asking the same question that we've already established the answer to: Is it better to live than to die? And, uh, yeah. Yeah, it is.

So anyway, moving onto the question I believe you were intending to ask: Would Ash have been able to escape his enemies?

Yeah. He would have.

For one thing, most of the people who actually gave a shit were already dead. Sure, the Corsican Foundation still existed, but most of them probably didn't think much of Ash besides him being Dino's favorite. There were those who saw Ash's mind in action during that month he spent with Dino during canon, but without Dino there, they have no reason to want Ash dead. Same with the ones who wanted Ash dead before the National Health Institute arc, if they weren't already dead themselves by the end of canon (like Kippard).

If Ash weren't going after them, I don't see why any of them would go after Ash.

Yut-Lung arguably had more enemies than Ash did by the end of canon, which was even Blanca's excuse for agreeing to work for him, but I don't see anyone arguing that Yue should have died. (I believe that he was canonically killed by one of his enemies at some point after Garden of Light, but does that mean that those 7+ years of freedom that he lived were pointless just because they came to an end?)

As far as traveling, yeah, Ash absolutely would have been able to fake an identity if he needed to. Like you said, he's done worse, and it's not like he doesn't have the connections for it. Although ...

I don't know if I've ever fully explained it in a fic or on here, but here's how I usually write post-canon.

Ash and Eiji stay in NYC. We know that moving back to the States and staying there is possible for Eiji, because ... it's what he does in canon after Ash's death. It's mentioned in GoL that Eiji moved back before he even healed completely from his gunshot wound, and that he got his Permanent Resident Card five years later.

As far as Ash, as much as a fucking pain in the ass it would be for him, I usually write him as actually testifying in court against ... fucking everyone. He gets help with this from Max, of course, and also from Jessica (who leaked Max's investigation, including the evidence they obtained from Frog, to the media in episode 23). In return for his testimony, he's granted total witness immunity for his crimes. ((Keep in mind that I know nothing about legal processes and how this would actually work in real life, but for fanfiction purposes that's how I choose to write it.))

So basically: Fuck Yoshida. Fuck death. Live your best life. YOLO.

#banana fish #ash lynx #cw death mention #long post #answers #anon

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xiyao-feels · 4 years

Text

Nie//yao (MDZS)

So NMJ/JGY is actually getting two versions, because my read on them is wildly different for MDZS vs CQL.

In MDZS I...don't ship it? I mean, there just doesn't seem to be to be anything there at all of a romantic or sexual nature. It's not that they don't care about each other, they clearly do, but it's in a way that is...NMJ as substitute father, JGY as substitute brother, and heavily, heavily inflected by their (current and then former) relationship as superior and subordinate.

Putting this behind a cut because a) it's me explaining at breath length with quotes why I don't think they have a romantic or sexual relationship and I don't want people to have to see that unless they want and b) accordingly it is REALLY LONG and I also don't want to clutter people's dashes, so.

Actually backing up a step, I don't see MDZS NMJ as being attracted to anyone, that's not really specific to JGY. I tend to read him as aspec, tbh. So theoretically he could have romantic feelings about JGY without being attracted to him—I think he may have some quasi-romantic feelings for LXC, though I don't think he conceptualizes it that way—but... honestly, it's not really clear to me that he even likes JGY as a person.

I'm not saying he doesn't like JGY! He clearly does, at least before MY tricks him and flees. But it doesn't seem to have anything to do with MY's personality, as opposed to like—MY being really competent and conducting himself well.

Some quotes about what exactly NMJ values about JGY:

'Nie MingJue interrupted him, “I promoted you not because I wanted you to give back anything out of gratitude. I simply thought that you should stay in this position, since you are capable enough and your conduct is to my liking. If you really want to pay me back, just kill a few more of those Wen-dogs on the battlefield!”'

'After [Meng Yao] left [for Langya], Nie MingJue switched to another deputy. Wei WuXian, however, felt that the new one was always a few beats slower. Meng Yao was an unusually clever talent. He could understand what wasn’t said, and perform to the best with the simplest orders. He was efficient and never slacked. Anyone used to him wouldn’t be able to refrain from comparing him with others.'

'Nie MingJue was never close to people. He rarely opened up to anyone. Though he finally managed to obtain a competent, trustworthy subordinate, whose character and capabilities he approved, he found that the subordinate’s true colors were nothing like what he had thought they were. It was only natural that his reaction was so extreme.'

'Wei WuXian had once found it strange as well. Ever since Meng Yao betrayed the QingheNie Sect, the relationship between Nie MingJue and him hadn’t been the same as before. Then why did they later become sworn brothers? From his observations, aside from how Lan XiChen brought it up, having always hoped that the two would reconcile, the most important factor was probably the gratitude of saving his life and writing the letters. To be precise, in his past battles, he had more-or-less depended on the information that Meng Yao sent over through Lan XiChen. He still thought that Jin GuangYao was a talented person whom one would rarely come upon, and intended on leading him back onto the right path. However, Jin GuangYao wasn’t his subordinate anymore. Only after they became sworn brothers would he have the status and the position to urge Jin GuangYao, like how he disciplined his younger brother, Nie HuaiSang.'

Jin GuangYao spoke with dejection, “But, Brother, didn’t you hear what he said in the oath? Every sentence meant something more. ‘Face a thousand accusing fingers, be torn from limb to limb’—this was clearly a warning for me. I… I’ve never heard of such an oath before.”

Lan XiChen replied in a gentle voice, “He said ‘if one were to think otherwise’. Do you think otherwise? If not, then why should you worry over it so much?"

Jin GuangYao, “I don’t, but Brother has already decided that I do, so what can I do?”

Lan XiChen, “He has always cherished your talent, hoping that you would choose the right path.”

You might notice a recurring theme here: there's a lot of focus JGY's competence and conduct. But anything about who JGY is as a person? Not so much.

They clearly had a good superior/subordinate relationship going on, albeit one in which NMJ was missing a lot of context (see just behave well and show people up, plus the you're missing a solid foundation thing). But it does seem to be basically professional. WWX describes them as conversing "peaceably, even impressively" in contrast to "his future self, always being scolded by Nie MingJue" and "those jokes of how 'LianFang-Zun fled whenever he heard that ChiFeng-Zun arrived,'" and.... that's kind of it. The closest we get to them as friends is them talking together with LXC after NMJ tells MY he will give him a letter of recommendation and send him to his father; as WWX describes it, "The three chatted back and forth, at times serious, yet at times light. The conversation was much more relaxed than when they had been in the living room. Listening to their chatter, Wei WuXian often wanted to get a word in as well, yet he was unable to do so."

That's definitely not nothing! But it's also the most we ever get, only shows up the once, and is explicitly contrasted with their conversation from earlier. Moreover, I'm pretty sure LXC's presence is a necessary part of things; NMJ tends to respond differently to LXC than to other people (even just earlier in this chapter, we're told that while "Nie MingJue had never been one for humour," "in front of Lan XiChen his expression eased"), and WWX explicitly notes LXC's conversation skills in the context of this conversation: "At this point in time, their relationship really isn't bad. Zewu-Jun is actually quite good at holding conversations, so why is Lan Zhan so bad at it?"

In addition, I'd say that looking at the early part of that conversation is quite telling; while LXC and MY are sitting together as equals, MY stand up at once the moment NMJ interrupts, and doesn't sit even after NMJ tells him to do so (I think he probably does take a seat at some point, but the narrative doesn't actually tell us when). Moreover, MY seems to be worried that NMJ will be offended by a possible lack of gratitude on MY's part ("Sect Leader Nie, if you heard everything, then you should've also heard me say that..."), and the only objection he expresses to leaving is precisely that he owes NMJ a debt of gratitude, not anything to do with, like, missing him. To me all the evidence suggests that while they had a close relationship, it was not a /personal/ relationship, but fundamentally one of superior and subordinate.

(For a close read of the scene where NMJ, LXC and MY are talking together, I highly recommend @confusion-and-more's post here)

Moving on, let's look at after JGY becomes JGY. They don't seem to particularly spend time together with each other, certainly not for the sake of it. There's a brief moment at the Flower Banquet where NMJ asks JGY why he's wasting his time with XY (who has not at this point in time committed his crime, he just has a reputation), but after JGY makes his excuse and scurries away, NMJ turns away and doesn't seem to seek him out or even pay him any particular attention for the rest of the scene; he only shows up once more, and that's following WWX. (And although JGY-as-replacement-NHS would be a post all on its own, I do think it's interesting to note that the exchange about XY is immediately followed by LXC and LWJ coming over, described in a way that highlights both their impressiveness and their status at brothers—their Twin Jade-ness, one might say.) During the guqin scene, NMJ only speaks once, and it's to address LXC—to protest the inappropriateness of LXC leaking exclusive Lan techniques. When JGY shows up to play the guqin for him the first time, NMJ asks JGY "what did you come here for," which suggests that NMJ is not generally expecting JGY to come by without a specific, concrete reason. The closest they ever seem to get after JGY becomes JGY is during these guqin-playing sessions, and as WWX describes it, "when playing the guqin, the way that the two conversed and got along even had a hint of the peace they had before they fell out"—which is certainly better than there being no peace at all, but which I think suggests there's still at least some tension, given that it's only a "hint."

Now, NMJ certainly cares about JGY, both in the sense of desiring his well-being, at first, and absolutely in the sense of being emotionally invested in him—even after his death, as a fierce corpse his only desire is to kill Jin Guangyao. But while they had a close superior-subordinate relationship—certainly NMJ seems to have felt close to MY—at no point was it a close personal relationship, and I don't think that NMJ even liked JGY (or MY, I'm using the name expansively) as a person, let alone was in love with him.

But mostly so far I've been focusing in NMJ's feelings. What about JGY? Is /he/ in love with NMJ?

Once again, I just don't read him that way. This isn't to say he didn't care for NMJ—he absolutely did! He goes to quite significant lengths to save his life from WRH in the Sun Palace, including quite a lot of risk to MY himself—I analyze that in a lot more depth in the first part of my post here, if you're interested, though I will also note now that he specifically sent for LXC to help NMJ. (You'll have to scroll down some; I'm responding to someone else's post.) Afterwards, he kneels to NMJ and apologizes, I think sincerely, for hurting him and for invoking his pain about his father's death. He certainly conceives of himself as owing a debt of gratitude to NMJ for recognizing him, and he's so overcome when NMJ offers to send him to his father with a letter of recommendation, saying that he didn't promote MY so that MY would owe him, that he quite remarkably can't even find words. NMJ meant a lot to him, and so did NMJ's not defining him in terms of his birth—until he did, of course, at the stairs kick incident. But as far as I can tell, there's nothing to suggest he has /romantic feelings/ for NMJ, and frankly—how can I put this—it does not at all surprise me that JGY isn't in love with someone with a violent temper who is noted at least twice to react to people explaining themselves when he is angry with even more anger, and that's even without the thing where he nearly killed JGY on multiple occasions and called him the son of a prostitute.

No, I think JGY's emotional journey with NMJ goes through three stages: first, he's deeply grateful to him and respects him a great deal, although he's also aware of NMJ's lack of awareness of certain social realities (see: the teacup scene, NMJ yelling at the other Nie cultivators about their treatment of MY and telling MY not to worry as long as his conduct is upright); second, after Sun Palace, still gratitude and respect but also a mounting frustration with his lack of awareness of the implications of JGY's social position and his hypocrisy re: acceptable violence; finally, after the stairs kick when NMJ kicks him down the stairs, almost kills him, and tells him what else can be expected from the son of a prostitute, he is completely done with NMJ, but is still very much scared of him. The gratitude, I've discussed; the frustration, I think is fairly obvious in the speech he gives back to NMJ at the stairs. But I think the fear is often undervalued, so I'm going to pull a bunch of quotes again:

Meng Yao shrunk immediately after his previous outburst. Watching Baxia slash toward him, he sprinted off at once, scared lifeless. Of the two, one striked with madness and the other fled with madness. Both staggered, still soaked in blood. In such amusing circumstances, as Wei WuXian chopped at the future Chief Cultivator, in his heart he split his sides laughing. He thought that if not for how Nie MingJue was under heavy injuries and lacked spiritual power, Meng Yao would probably have been dead already.

Baxia’s strikes were so menacing that Shuoyue had to unsheath. Lan XiChen stopped him, half to support his figure and half to block his attacks, “MingJue-xiong, calm down! Why bother?”

Nie MingJue, “Why don’t you ask what he did?!”

Lan XiChen turned around to look at Meng Yao, his face was full of terror. He stammered as if he didn’t dare speak.

Nie MingJue remained silent, while Baxia and Shuoyue continued. Meng Yao took a glimpse at the glares from the clashes of the saber and the sword, his gaze full of fear. After a while, however, he still took a step forward. He kneeled to Nie MingJue.

A moment later, Nie MingJue still raised his saber. Lan XiChen, “MingJue-xiong!”

Meng Yao shut his eyes. Lan XiChen also tightened his grip on Shuoyue, “Please excuse…”

Before he could finish his sentence, the silver light of the blade slashed down violently, onto a boulder on the side.

Meng Yao flinched from the thunder of the boulder splitting apart. Looking over, he saw that it had been sliced into two halves, from the top to the bottom.

Jin GuangYao nodded. Xue Yang had been infamous ever since he was young. Wei WuXian clearly felt Nie MingJue’s brows knit even tighter. He spoke, “Why are you wasting your time with such a person?”

Jin GuangYao, “The LanlingJin Sect recruited him.”

He didn’t dare to protest any further. Excuse being that he needed to care for the guests, he scurried to the other side.

[part of his speech to NMJ at the stairs] You think that I should be afraid of nothing? Well I'm afraid of everything, even other people!

Within the temple, three people called Nie MingJue’s corpse ‘Brother’ but the three tones were drastically different. Jin GuangYao’s face was full of a drowning fear. His entire body began to shiver. No matter dead or alive, the person Jin GuangYao was most scared of was none but this sworn brother of his whose temper tolerated no evil. As his body shivered, his hands shivered as well, and the bloody guqin string he clutched tightly in his hand also began to shiver.

Clenching his teeth, Jin GuangYao struck a few acupoints of his arm. Amidst the dizziness that came from a loss of blood, he suddenly saw Nie MingJue walk a step towards him, his eyes locked on him. He was immediately half-dead with fear.

Collapsed beside Lan XiChen, Jin GuangYao saw this scene as well. Whether because the bleeding and the pain intensified at his arm and stomach or from some other reason, the glisten of tears could be seen in his eyes. But before he had a chance to catch his breath or lick his wounds, Nie MingJue turned around after he pulled his fist back and stared hungrily in his direction.

The harsh, stern expression on his rigid face held a sense of judgement that was no different from before he died. Even his tears had been scared away as Jin GuangYao turned to Lan XiChen for help, his voice trembling, “Brother…”

I think the stuff with, you know, handling NMJ's fierce corpse and hanging onto his head is often viewed as evidence of JGY's continued emotional investment in NMJ, but... I don't really think so? First of all, NMJ's fierce corpse is completely obsessed with killing JGY. I'll spare you another round of quotes on that because this is already ridiculously long and because it's not at all subtle—it's all over the temple chapters, take a look! And second of all—well, there's ways of getting information from a corpse. In this case, NMJ's resentful energy is so strong that without the protection of his body, papernan WWX is actually sucked into NMJ's memories against his will! Sure, maybe no one would risk it, and maybe no one who risked it would survive, but especially given that NMJ's fierce corpse is completely obsessed with killing JGY, that's a heck of a risk to take. And look at the description of the protections around NMJ's head:

Suddenly, Wei WuXian noticed that one of the shelves were blocked by a curtain. The curtain was covered in sinister, blood-red runes. It was a talisman of forbiddance, one of extreme power.

Jin GuangYao walked over and lifted the curtain.

For a split second, Wei WuXian thought that he had been exposed. After the faint firelight made its way through the curtain, he found that he was enveloped in a shadow. A circular object just happened to be in front of him.

Jin GuangYao stood still, as though he was staring into the eyes of whatever was inside this shelf.

After a moment, he spoke, “Were you the one looking at me?"

Of course, there couldn’t be any response. He was silent for a while, then let down the curtain.

Wei WuXian quietly attached himself to the object. Cold and hard, it seemed to be a helmet. He then turned to the front. As he had expected, he saw a pallid face. The one who sealed the head wanted it to see nothing, hear nothing, speak nothing, and so incantations had been crowded onto the waxen skin. The eyes, the ears, and the mouth were all sealed tightly shut.

There's containment, it's suppressed to all hell and back, and JGY quite justifiably expects it to be murderously obsessed with him, but to me it doesn't suggest a reciprocal obsession—just more fear.

I'll also note that as a strategy for containing the information about his own involvement it's a very successful operation! It failed in the end /eventually/, but the failure needed:

someone who could successfully break into his private treasure room and escape without being caught

who could also perform Empathy or a similar tecnnique on NMJ's head and survive it

who could successfully recreate from memory the altered Empathy song

whom LXC would be willing to listen to

That's a heck of a tall order!

As to being done with NMJ after the stairs, well, listen to what he says to LXC:

[...]

Jin GuangYao, “It’s not that I don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong, but that sometimes I really can’t help. Nowadays, I have it bad no matter which side I’m on. I have to ensure that I’m on everyone’s good sides. I wouldn’t care if it were someone else, but have I mistreated our eldest brother in any way? Brother, you heard as well. What did he call me?”

[...]

Jin GuangYao was almost sobbing, “If he could say such a thing when he was angry, then just how does he think of me on a daily basis? Is it that because I couldn’t choose my background, because my mother couldn’t choose her fate, I’ll have to be humiliated by others throughout my whole life? If so, then how is Brother different from the people who look down on me? No matter what I do, in the end, just a sentence and I’m ‘the son of a prostitute’.”

And then of course there's what he says to LXC, in his speech to him at the end: "You, on the other hand, ZeWu-Jun, Sect Leader Lan, are as intolerant of me as Nie MingJue—you refuse to spare me even a single breath of life!"

So—wow, this got very long—I don't ship them, and although I think they have very much mattered emotionally to each other, I don't really see them as ever having been in love with or attracted to each other.

A couple of end notes:

In MDZS, NMJ isn't the first (non-MS) person who recognizes MY's worth, although he is the first person to promote him; by the time NMJ promotes MY MY has already met, rescued, and exchanged intimate confidences with LXC, who respects him greatly and thinks he is highly talented (see again the conversation in Hejian which NMJ overhears/eavedrops on).

I've seen people talk about them not understanding each other, but while NMJ certainly doesn't understand JGY, it's not at all obvious that the reverse is true; he generally seems to understand him pretty well. I think he has two surprises overall: first, that he wasn't expecting NMJ to say he didn't promote MY so MY would owe him, and volunteer to send him to his father with a letter of recommendation—and second, he wasn't expecting NMJ, who for all his flaws did seem to ignore JGY's background in good ways as well as bad, to call him the son of a prostitute.

I definitely don't read the coffin at the end as romantic. Or I mean, uh, there's the romance of an obsessive stalker-murderer finally getting his victim, and that's not nothing (unironically; look, I'm a Hannibal fan), but I don't think it's usually what people mean. This is a shitty end for JGY, part of how thoroughly he loses and is destroyed. I think to some extent it might be that he doesn't want LXC to be the one who killed him, and to some extent it's an act of defiance—now that he has nothing to lose, not even his life, he's going to go out fighting. I would expand on this but this post is ridiculously long and I have way too many quotes, maybe I'll do it in a separate post later on—but if you look at the description of it in the text, plus the subsequent description of it in the coffin...yeah. JGY didn't want to die, he didn't want to be engaged in a mutually destructive thing with NMJ; he wanted to leave NMJ behind in the past, and move on. It's not, for him any kind of fulfillment, is my read.

All quotes are taken from the Exiled Rebels translation: ch 48-50 for everything about NMJ and JGY's past relationship, ch. 47 for the description of JGY's containment measures for NMJ's head, and ch. 106-108 for the quotes about JGY's fear of NMJ's fierce corpse. The description of JGY going into the coffin is at the end of 108 if you want to have a look, and there's more in 109 and 110 about the difficulty of sealing NMJ's fierce corpse/its power and violence.

#ship meme #ship negativity #this is so goddamn long #how many quotes can I fit in one post? dear god #also there's no way the coffin is actually staying shut for 100 years see ch. 113 #also I didn't want to rely on material that isn't in the final text but if you do look at the scene of JGY cutting NMJ's head off #the same theme of NMJ's fierce corpse's murderous obsession + JGY's fear are very much there #also I'm not sure I'd call it a notp exactly? like obviously I don't see it but there are versions of it I can kind of enjoy #but I figured I was being well by all accounts it doesn't make sense enough that I wanted to circle it as like. a warning XP #we can't change places #anger burned in his heart #more than one tag could contain #long meta

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imagethat · 5 years

Note

Hey! Do you think that you could do a DMC5 Dante x best friend reader where the reader was previously in an abusive relationship and Dante finds out and gets kinda pissed because he always had a bad feeling about the guy? I'm a sucker for Dante fluff.

Dante x Best Friend Reader Fluff

Hi, I hope this is okay! And hopefully it all posts too, tumblr has been weird with my askbox lately! I really appreciate the ask and I hope you have a really great day^^

It was a stormy night out, which isn't unusual for Red Grave by any means. What was though was the sound of someone knocking on Devil May Cry's door at three in the morning. Dante groaned and pulled himself out of bed after a good few knocks. "How can I-" He paused as he opened the door, finding you standing in the rain. By how drenched your clothes were, he could tell you had been out in it for a long time. Your eyes were puffy and skin pale. "Y/n?" He asked with a confused expression on his face while he invited you inside. "Wait here, I'll go grab a towel and draw a bath." Dante said before rushing upstairs. Within moments you could hear the water running. He returned with a towel, which he draped over your head and started to dry your hair with. Geez, you were shaking pretty badly from head to toe. Undoubtedly having caught a cold. He contemplated internally whether or not he should ask what happened. While he was your best friend, he didn't want to overstep his bounds. "Thanks." You said in a soft voice while keeping your eyes glued to the floor. Before he could question you about what happened you added. "I'll… I'll be upstairs." In an even quieter voice. It almost sounded as if it hurt to speak. As you paced up the stairs slowly Dante watched your back with heavyhearted eyes. He wanted to ask what happened… or comfort you… but you seemed like you needed space. While you bathed he made his bed so you'd have somewhere nice to sleep then went to the phone on his desk. He had to call multiple times before a very annoyed voice answered. "What!?!" Nero demanded. Dante checked over his shoulder before continuing. "Hey, did y/n call you?" He asked in a somber voice. "No… Not that I know of at least, why?" Nero asked. "Well she… She came here, she had been in the rain and she was crying… I haven't asked what happened yet. But I was hoping you'd know…" Dante admitted. You shared a good relationship with everyone at DMC, and while Dante was your best friend, Nero and Nico knew you well too. Nico had apparently been eavesdropping and snatched the phone from Nero. After a few seconds of wrestling on the other end of the line and Nero cursing a bit in the background, Nico could finally be heard. "What was she wearing!?" Nico demanded. "What?" Dante asked before thinking back on when he opened the door. "Uhm… She was dressed a bit fancier than usual." He said, not wanting to admit to how much he payed attention to you. "Black dress? Cute leggings?" Nico questioned. "Yeah… How'd you know?" Dante asked, but his only reply was Nico saying something to Nero. Something about a damned bastard. "Listen, it's not really okay for me to share anything. Just stay with her, ya hear?" Nico demanded. "I will." Dante assured her. "We'll be by tomorrow." Nico said before hanging up, seeming pretty upset about something. Dante sat there in silence for a few moments. He didn't want to think ill of anyone, he had only met your partner a few times but… Why else would you have gotten dressed up, and with Nico's help too. He started to think more about it though. And if he was honest, he never really liked them much. The way they'd hold your wrist when he was around. Or how sometimes you'd act strange on missions and dodge his attempts to question you about it. It was starting to bother him a lot now actually.

You got out of the shower and dried off. Your clothes were drenched beyond drying right now, and Dante knew that. So he left a pair of his pajamas on the counter for you. They were laughably ill fitting, and you had to tie the drawstring on the pants tightly to get them to stay up. Admittedly it was pretty nice though. You examined yourself in the mirror. You were still shaking, and you had cried more in the tub. You scoffed softly at how bad you looked, feeling guilty for bothering Dante in such a unpresentable fashion. All you wanted to do now was curl up and sleep forever. Your body ached from how far you had walked. Closing the bathroom door as quietly as you could behind you, you gathered a pillow and blanket from the bed and headed downstairs. Dante saw you and quirked an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" He asked, getting up to meet you halfway down the stairs. "I… I'm going to sleep on the couch." You forced out, memories leaking back into your brain, instilling fear and anxiety that you'd be yelled at or worse for even speaking up. Dante carefully took the pillow and blanket from you before nudging you back up the stairs softly. "It's fine, I'll stay down here." He said, guiding you back upstairs. You fidgeted with your fingers as you sat on his bed. Dante sat down on the floor carefully and folded his arms so he could rest his head down on them near the edge of the bed. "Do you want to talk about what happened… It's fine if not…" He offered softly. "No… No… It's fine." You lied, your voice getting weaker with each word you spoke. He could see your nails digging into your wrist. Dante sat up and held his hands out with his palms up. "Can I see your hands?" He asked. You nervously set your hands on top of his. Dante's hands were leagues bigger than yours, and slightly calloused from his line of work. He traced the three lines on your palm. "Do you know what each line means?" He asked and you nodded your head no in response softly. "Well, this line," he said while tracing the middle one, "Is life span. And this one's achievements." He added while tracing the bottom line. "You know what the top line is?" He asked while tracing small circles on your palm. "It's happiness." He said after he got no reply from you. "So… overall, I'd say the fates look pretty good in your favor." He mused, smiling softly when he saw you chuckle. "You're so childish." You muttered and he grinned. "I'd say that's one of my finer personality traits." He teased. You didn't want to move your hands. Like this though, Dante could finally see your arms fully in his t-shirt and the bruises that lined them. Some softer while others seemed…. He pierced his lips before cupping his hands around yours. "Y/n?" He asked. You finally looked up at him, which you regretted immediately. When your eyes met his you were overcome with all emotions you were trying so hard to avoid. Sadness, fear, guilt. Dante was too good for you. Your partner had even said so. They had told you a million times that you didn't deserve friends, that you were worthless. To isolate you from the people you loved. You sobbed softly. "I-I'm so sorry… I shouldn't have come here…" you whispered out. Dante squeezed your hands softly. "No, you can come here any time. It's okay." He consoled you, moving up onto the bed next to you so he could hold you in his arms. He ran his fingers through your hair and tried to comfort you in every way he knew how. "Y/n…. Please tell me what happened." He said. After a few more moments, you finally worked up enough courage to speak. "I… I… well my boyfriend and I… We got in a fight last week… and he said he'd make it up to me, that we'd go to the beach together… I don't know why I always go back… but on the way there he got upset...he was yelling at me… I don't know what I did wrong… H...He left me… On highway 19… Shoved me out of the car…" Your voice gave out. You couldn't say anything else as you sobbed into his shoulder. Dante was completely taken aback. Highway 19 was a good two hours away from Red Grave… And you walked all the way back? He felt anger well in his chest, but before he could say anything you continued. "A-and he knows where Nero lives so I couldn't go there…. And I didn't want to go home…. B… But fuck… I'm so sorry for bothering you… I know I shouldn't have…" You stuttered out, feeling so awful for waking him up and making him worry. Being here was the only place you could think of where your boyfriend wouldn't find you. "Hey hey hey, you come here crying and you think the first thing I'm worried about is 'being bothered'?" He said pulling back so he could look you in the eyes. "I'd lose all the sleep in the world if it meant being by your side when you needed me, you're never a bother. Shit, think of where I'd be if I hadn't met you." He said with a soft laugh. "Still eating pizza every meal of the day, only taking missions when the bills need to be paid, and sleeping 24/7." He said. You laughed softly while wiping your cheeks. "Dante… You still do that." You said with a gentle smile despite your puffy eyes. "Yeah! But you know what makes my life different from then? You." He replied. He was being sincere, you could see it in his eyes. If you hadn't spent the whole day crying, you probably would have burst into tears that instant. Your rested your head down on his shoulder. By now the sun was rising over Red Grave, and early morning hues leaked in through the window. Dante sighed softly. "Better get some sleep… Thing one and Gremlin two are coming over." Dante said. You paused. "Nico and Nero?" You asked, knowing they'd have a lot to say about the situation. It made you a little nervous. But having them around would be nice. Dante nodded and gently pulled away. "Yeah… So I'll leave you to it." He said. But before he could turn to leave you grabbed his hand. "Will you stay in here? I-I'm afraid to be alone." You admitted. He nodded softly. "Yeah, I'll be right here if you need me. So get some sleep." He replied, ruffling your hair before making his own makeshift bed on the floor. True to his word, he stayed with you while you slept. Keeping a watchful eye over you in case you needed anything.

When you woke up it was well into the afternoon. You rose from the sheets slowly and looked around. Dante was reading a magazine leaned up against the wall. "Morning sunshine." He teased. "It's not the morning… What time is it?" You asked while rubbing your eyes. Your body still ached and your eyes stung a bit when you touched them. "Hmmm. I'd reckon 5:40?" He said. Not sounding too sure. "Maybe I shouldn't have borrowed your clothes, I'm becoming you." You teased since he always slept in. He chuckled softly. "Well if you're gonna take my place we better get some pizza." He teased back. You were hungry. "Pizza it is." You replied. "Perfect, I'll go order it then. Will… Will you be alright?" He asked, hesitant on leaving you alone now. You nodded softly, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. I want to brush my hair anyways." You said, wanting a moment to yourself. Dante respected that and left you alone. You took a moment to sort through your thoughts, trying your best to fend off the anxiousness in your gut. You opened a window to let some fresh air in, then went into the bathroom to tidy up as best you could. After that you made your way downstairs and took a seat on the couch. Dante made your favorite drink as you waited for the pizza to arrive. You two heard someone knock on the door. When Dante made no move to answer it you got up and opened the door cautiously, a somewhat irrational fear that your boyfriend would be on the other side overtaking you. But to your surprise it wasn't the pizza man or your boyfriend. Nico instantly wrapped her arms around you and smoothed your hair down while shushing you softly. Telling you how everything would be okay. She knew what happened, and most of what had happened in the past. The day before yesterday you, Nico, Lady, and Trish had all gotten together. You really needed to be with them before having a full weekend alone with your boyfriend, and now ex. You four had a girls day, planning outfits and chatting. Nico tried her best to convince you not to go but at the end of the day you still left. She felt awful about it all day, she and Nero both hated your boyfriend with a burning passion. You hid your feelings better around Dante than you did around the two. You peeled yourself from her hug as she kept her hands on your shoulders, giving you a reassuring smile while Nero crosses his arms. Seeming infinitely upset, but not with you. He had a bone to pick with your boyfriend. Shortly after, Trish and Lady showed up, and so did the pizza. The whole crew was called, just to spend the night with you watching movies. So you could feel safer in their presence and feel the full extent of the love you had surrounding you. If you needed space at any moment, they gave it to you. The next day, Dante and Nero left. You didn't ask where they went but they returned with your stuff, Nero seeming a bit roughed up. Your ex had been home when they picked up your stuff, and tried to start a fight with the devil hunter. Claiming you had no right to leave, spewing all sorts of horrible things. Dante seemed visibly upset about whatever had happened too. So it must have been pretty serious. You never worked up the will to ask what happened. After that you stayed posted up at Devil May Cry, Dante having insisted on it. Saying you could stay until you found a new place to live. As time went on though, the need to move somewhere else ceased to exist. You and the legendary devil hunter slowly realized you had feelings for eachother more than friends would. For Dante, it was something he always sort of knew, but he was respectable and never made any moves when you were in a relationship. Despite the warning flags and how much he disliked your ex. Sometimes the feeling that Dante was too good for you would creep back. Whenever you needed reassurance though, Dante would take your hand and trace the three lines on your palm. You had no shortage of oversized sweaters too. Which Dante would pretend he didn't like you taking, but seeing you in them made him really happy. During the next few months your ex was relentless. But Dante was adamant about protecting you and helping you move on. He gave you all the reassurance and love in the world. Going places with you so you wouldn't have to be alone, holding you if you had bad dreams, he truly tried to do it all.

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