#this post got WAY out of hand but I hope it helps

[wqnwoos]

⇢ pairing. chwe vernon x reader ⇢ summary. vernon loves music, and you love vernon. ⇢ genre. fluff, bffs2lovers, college!au ⇢ word count. approx. 2k ⇢ author’s note! happy (early) valentine’s day! i unfortunately wrote this last week which means it came so close to deletion at least 10 times, and so im posting it now to prevent that. thank you to alta @haologram for helping me brainstorm the playlist, i truly believe u are a gift to this world.

playlist. love language, kehlani / jasmine, dpr live / want u around, omar apollo & ruel / like i want you, giveon / thinkin bout you, frank ocean / best part, daniel caesar & h.e.r.

It’s closing in on two in the morning when you finally leave the library. Your phone’s been on do not disturb since you got there at seven, which feels like forever ago — as you exit, casting a sympathetic glance at the remaining two students still glued to their textbooks, you scroll quickly through your notifications. Two emails, a follow request, and a passive-aggressive threat from Duolingo.

You pull your coat tighter around you as you finally emerge through the last set of double doors — it’s freezing, and you’re just about to stow your hands deep into your pockets when your phone buzzes.

[2:03am] vernon 👽🖤 yo [2:03am] vernon 👽🖤 ur prob asleep but i made u smth [2:04am] vernon 👽🖤 https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4grGIbqG5VSvNpDLuwdG7X

Instinctively, you smile. You and Vernon have a bunch of playlists. A collaborative one, for when you’re together, driving or hanging out or whatever. Then he has one for you with all the songs he thinks you’ll like, and then you have one for him for the same reason. 

[2:05am] you another one?  [2:06am] vernon 👽🖤  yooo why are u still up dude [2:06am] you hypocrite 🫵 [2:06am] you but i’m walking home from the library rn

vernon 👽🖤  is calling . . .

“Dude,” he says, by way of greeting, and he doesn’t sound impressed.

“Dude,” you mimic exactly, biting back a smile at the sound of his voice.

“It’s two in the morning,” he sighs, and you can hear sheets rustling in the background. “Why are you walking home alone?”

“It’s not far, Vernon.” 

“It’s dark and it’s been snowing. You should have called me,” he reprimands without any heat. “I would’ve picked you up.”

“Well, it is two in the morning.” You cross the road, stepping over a patch of snow. “I assumed you’d be asleep, not curating another playlist.”

“Oh. Yeah, that — that was — have you opened it?” Vernon’s words trip over each other, and your lips turn up ever so slightly. God, he’s so sweet.

“What, are you nervous?” you tease, unable to resist. “I have, like, fifteen of your playlists saved already.”

“You haven’t opened it,” he infers, and exhales a little. “Okay, um, maybe you should… wait. Until the morning or something.”

“Yeah, right,” you snort. “I’m listening to it now! It’s going to keep me company on my way home. Talk to you later!”

And you hang up before he can protest, already scrolling to find the link he sent you.

The first thing you notice is the name — Love Language. Which makes your heart twist a little, until you realise it’s the name of the first song, and anyway, you and Vernon have made this joke a hundred times. His love language is making playlists, he does it for his friends all the time. You included — you especially. Like the time he’d eaten the last slice of a cake you’d bought, apparently because he thought it was free-for-all. You’d given him the silent treatment for a day and a half before he’d texted you a playlist link: 

I AM (IVE)

really (mimi bay)

Sorry (Justin Bieber)

About (SoKuen)

EATING (Sukihana)

The Cake (John Powell)

I Will (Remastered 2009) (The Beatles)

Buy (Cousines like Shit)

You (Basil Valdez)

MORE (j-hope)

Please Please Please (Sabrina Carpenter)

Forgive Me (Chloe x Halle)

It made you laugh, because Vernon always makes you laugh. A few months and a few playlists later, you were harbouring the biggest crush known to mankind.

That was three years ago. You and Vernon are seniors now, set to graduate next summer, and what was meant to be a harmless crush on a friend has turned into being completely, totally in love with your best friend. It wasn’t that serious until it suddenly was. It was butterflies in your stomach when you saw him, at first. Now it’s like a sigh of relief. It's more coming home. Which is a lot more dangerous, and a lot more painful.

You handle it, most days, but sometimes he’ll do something or say something that completely throws your perfectly regulated emotions into overdrive. He’ll laugh at a stupid joke you make, or he’ll grab your hand to make a point or he’ll tell you that you’re pretty, and your heart swells until it presses painfully against your ribs, hot and slippery and aching. Those days, you mostly go home just to lie on the floor, listen to the only playlist of yours that Vernon hasn’t seen.

The second thing you notice about the playlist Vernon made you is the cover. It’s you, you know it immediately, and you know exactly which day it was taken. You just didn’t know it was taken. But your best friend must’ve snapped a photo when you weren’t looking, because the cover is you, looking up at the cherry blossom tree that the two of you stumbled on during a late-night walk. It was maybe a little under a year ago, it was the night you realised you loved him, and it was the night you almost kissed.

You don’t know if he remembers it the same way you do. To you, that’s your biggest what if? moment. To him, it’s probably just another fun memory with his friend. His best friend, if you’re lucky.

It takes you a second, but you finally click play on the playlist — but the picture stares back at you, practically taunting you with the memory.

The two of you had been walking for twenty minutes, sharing airpods, until you’d seen the tree and gathered a pile of pink petals to dump over Vernon’s head; he’d realised what you were doing just a moment too late. Asshole, he’d said smilingly, brushing the petals off with two hands. Everything that happened next was cliché. He’d missed a spot, one pale petal still clinging to his hair; you reached your hand up to get it, and lingered a little too long, a little too close. You don’t think you’ve ever held eye contact for so long — it felt like forever and then some.

Until his eyes flicked downward. Only for a split second: if you’d blinked, you would’ve missed it, but you saw it, and it was enough to have you taking a step back. Not like this, you’d thought to yourself. You wouldn’t do anything like that. You wouldn’t throw years of friendship and an extended period of pining away so easily — you wouldn’t risk it over an impulse that Vernon was experiencing. If you couldn’t have all of him, you refused to even take one night. You’d rather not know than live with the memory.

You’re halfway through the second song when you finally snap out of the memory, and you can actually take a moment to glance at the rest of the playlist. To your surprise, it’s short — it’s only six songs — and more interestingly, you know all these songs. And Vernon knows you know them; some of them you recommended to him, some of them he’s sent to you already, and you’re still wondering what he’s thinking as the third song ends. 

Despite you claiming to be his best friend, you don’t always understand Vernon. Sometimes it’s little things, like how he fist bumps the cat on the street corner of his apartment. Sometimes it’s bigger, like the girl he dated last year. You didn’t understand that — or maybe you didn’t want to, because yes, you were well on your way to being in love with him, but he also didn’t tell you. You found out from Seungkwan (who was kind of triumphant about it, because he was always vying for the position of Vernon’s best friend, and he finally knew something you didn’t).

Mina was lovely. As if Vernon would date someone not lovely — he brought her to movie night after a month or so of them seeing each other, and she met your group of friends, and everyone loved her. Even you. And honestly, after excusing yourself to the bathroom to blink away your watery eyes, you convinced yourself that it was for the better: that this would be how you officially got over your best friend. So when Soonyoung asked you to go on a blind date with one of his friends the next week, you said yes. You and Wonwoo saw each other for about a month before you broke it off, and about a month after that, Vernon showed up at movie night without his girlfriend, and casually mentioned that they’d broken up.

Even the news of that didn’t do much to soothe you, because you’d quickly come to a conclusion while dating Wonwoo: that it would not be easy to get over your best friend. You knew you loved him now. You’d come to that realisation under the cherry blossom tree, a few months after both of your breakups, a year after you realised that you liked him like that in the first place. It’s been well over two years since you first fell for him, and you’ve been stuck there ever since — falling deeper and deeper because you refuse to pull yourself out.

Sometimes, on your most hopeful nights, you think that maybe Vernon could feel something too. Some nights he looks at you with a certain shine in his eyes, or when he hugs you he makes it last a little longer than usual. Some nights he opens his mouth to say something and the words get stuck in his throat, and he waves it off like nothing happened. Symptoms that are all too familiar.

Those nights are even worse, the ones where you go home and read too much into his every move, try in vain to stifle the hope that insists on clawing its way to your chest. Those nights are getting more and more frequent, and you don’t know how much longer you can handle it. Those nights, something in you is convinced he feels something, that maybe he could like you — on the very worst, you think he might even love you. But by the next morning, you’re dead certain that all you’ll ever be is a friend to him.

But now — today — you’re eight minutes away from home and nearly five songs in when it starts snowing, and at the same time, the cogs in your mind slowly start turning. You love these songs, Vernon knows you love these songs. You’re pretty sure they’re some of his favourites too; he’s always listening to them. And you’re so preoccupied with the realisation that’s sinking in, that same traitorous hope you’ve always shoved down stirring again in your chest, you barely even notice the snowflakes settling around you.

Because maybe you don’t always understand Vernon, but most of the time you do, even if it takes a little while — even if he has to spell things out for you, like his stupid cake playlist. Because that’s what he’s doing, you realise with a sudden jolt, looking at your favourite songs. Your favourite love songs. He’s spelling it out for you. That this is his love language; that he wants you; that he thinks about you; and as the last song finishes, just as you turn onto your street — if you love me, won’t you say something?

When you finally look up, you think you’re hallucinating. Because Vernon’s standing in front of your apartment building, holding an umbrella, and it startles you so much you actually stop in your tracks a few metres from him, blinking idiotically.

Vernon gives you a shy smile, charming and awkward. Your heart does the thing it always does when he looks at you like that; stutters, skips a beat, clenches tightly.

“You stopped replying to my texts,” he says, and the street’s empty enough that you can hear him, even from where you’re standing. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You don’t say anything because what can you even say? Where do you even start? You don’t have words — but you tap quickly at your phone with a sudden idea, and you hear the ping of Vernon’s phone from where you’re standing. You move closer anyway, smiling at the familiar furrow of his brow as he glances between you and the phone he digs out of his pocket. And you see the exact moment he registers what you’ve sent him, the smile that spreads across his face.

[2:39am] you https://open.spotify.com/track/5oO3drDxtziYU2H1X23ZIp [love on the brain - rihanna]

You and Vernon first met at a party. Seungkwan had promised both of you, separately, that it wasn’t a party, more of a small gathering between his friends, but of course, Seungkwan’s definition of small doesn’t match yours. And so you were kind of hiding in a corner, nodding your head and mouthing subconsciously to Rihanna’s Love on the Brain; you’d turned your head a few inches, and Chwe Vernon was standing a few metres away, doing the exact same thing. You guys had accidentally made eye contact and split into matching embarrassed smiles, until he’d sat next to you. He’d offered you possibly the most awkward fist bump ever, pairing it with an even more awkward, “So, uh, got love on the brain?” You’d laughed, and that was it — the beginning of you and Vernon.

Now, he pockets his phone again, but holds the umbrella out over both of your heads, which only makes you giggle. “You brought an umbrella?”

“It’s snowing,” he shrugs, but his smile is wide, “It’s just like… colder rain.” 

“Stupid.” What’s more stupid is the smile you can’t peel off your face. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” he counters, and you tilt your head with a sheepish smile. So many reasons, but one look at him and you forget them all.

“So,” he murmurs, slipping his free hand around your waist, “got love on the brain, hm?”

“Something like that,” you agree, and after three years of wanting and waiting, you finally kiss him.

a/n i linked the playlist vernon made at the top (yes i dug up one of my very old spotify accounts to do this). i have very mixed feelings about this one. it's kind of cheesy but so is most of my work, and anyway it's valentine's day!! so who cares!!! also once again this got a banner bc once again this picture inspired the whole thing. also wtf is up with tumblr ruining image quality!!!

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud

@tokitosun @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin

@icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars

@immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya

@yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9

@lightnjng @strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura

@iamawkwardandshy @twilghtkoo @yuuyeonie @lllucere

@pearlesscentt

@sourkimchi @porridgesblog

[witherby]

Wait I kinda wanna see mousy’s blow up 🤭

You can absolutely see the blow up 😏

The Littlest Wayne: Boiling Point

The post that inspired this response is Here!

Masterlist is Here!

You can't remember what started the argument. An errant comment, some joke in poor taste, an accusatory question — it could have been anything. All you know is that you said something you felt was important, Damian ignored it, Tim dismissed it, and Dick acted like you hadn't said it to begin with, and now you're livid and don't want to finish your dinner.

"May I be excused," you say to Alfred, already pushing your chair back from the table before he can respond. Your grandfather gives you a concerned look, but nods.

"Shall I bring something up to you later, young master?" He asks. You don't know if you'll have any appetite by then, but you agree anyway to spare his feelings.

"Where are you going?" Bruce asks, frowning as you stand to leave. "I haven't seen you in a week, honey. Even if you're not hungry, can you sit a while?"

"Whose fault is that," you snap. The room gets real quiet after that, a mixture of surprise and incredulity painting your father's face.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not making you go anywhere, dad," you scowl, "if you missed me then you'd find the time to see me."

"Hold on. I don't think that's very fair," Hal speaks up, reaching for your hand. You pull it away from him. "Mouse —"

"It's fine," you say, "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of one. I'm well aware. It's fine. We'll spend time together some other day. Go stop a robbery or rescue some damsels or something."

"What's with the 'tude, Flitty?" Dick pipes up, standing to block the door. "Pump the brakes for a sec. Talk to us."

"Talk to you? What, so when you inevitably forget this conversation happened you can pretend we never had it to begin with?" You sneer at your brother, looking him up and down. "No thanks. I'm not interested in being gaslit today."

"Gaslit?" Dick balks, looking like you struck him. "I've never —"

"Let them go, Dick," Tim says, twirling a bite of pasta around his fork. "It's just hormones. They'll go back to normal by tomorrow."

"Oh, of course it's just hormones," you scoff, whirling around to point a finger at Tim. "If it's got a logical explanation it's not worth dwelling on. Isn't that right? I can't be upset because I'm just going through puberty! There's no way it's acceptable for me to be upset over anything! My feelings don't matter, so they should be swept under the rug, just like your parents did to you!"

Tim drops his fork in surprise. A bit of pasta sauce hits Damian's check, and he grabs his napkin with an irritated grumble.

"This is such nonsense," the boy mutters.

"Everything that doesn't interest you personally is nonsense," you hiss at your youngest brother. "God forbid someone try to share their love for a hobby that's outside of what you find enjoyable. If the Blood Son doesn't give it his seal of approval, it's not worth the effort! Honestly, I should feel grateful you've blessed us with your presence at all! Surely your inferior siblings are barely worth your invaluable time!"

Your heart's racing. All the little, irritating things about your family that's been piling up inside you are spilling out. Your anger turns the internal hurt into external jabs and low blows, the darkest part of you wanting them to feel just a fraction of your pain at how flippantly they treat you sometimes.

"Sorry, did that upset you, Dami? Aww, it's okay! Like Tim says, it's just an emotional response brought on by some underlying factor! It won't last so it's not worth devoting your time to! And if you're like Dicky, you can just wave it away and say it never happened, no matter what you show him to prove it did! Maybe if you hadn't had the time to make it to dinner and spent weeks or months rushing off to do something more important at the start, you wouldn't have to sit through this conversation at all! Hope that helps!"

A hand comes down on your shoulder, silencing your rant. You whip around to find Jason staring down at you with a heartbroken frown. He looks so genuinely upset that any remaining anger dissipates immediately.

"Mousey," he whispers, "stop. Take a breath."

He looks so blurry. You blink a couple times and realize your panting and crying. No one will look you directly in the eyes except for Alfred, who's visibly tired. There's pity in his eyes.

It stings. God. Everything stings. Your face flushes with color as you realize what you've said and done. You want the earth to open up and swallow you.

It doesn't have to be the earth.

Before anyone can protest, your shadow wraps around your ankles and drags you down, then dissipates.

"Mouse, don't —" Jason kneels on the floor, just a hair too slow. "Fuck."

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 12

Y'all are getting two chapters today because a little silly someone, won't @ because they haven't asked to be tagged in the tag list and Idk if they'd like the call out but they know who they are, liked every chapter and I loved your little comments so I finished chapter 13 so I can post this chapter only fueled by your excitement 🥰🥹

CW: people are getting their ass beat, so mention of blood and decapitation.

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 12 >>next

With Nolan completely refusing to face anyone lately, and the announcement that the guardians are dead, you had to get away. You couldn’t sit and wait for him, couldn’t cry over the guardians, couldn’t sit by and watch how worried Debbie was every morning when he’d left. You just couldn’t.

So, while Mark went to university with Amber and William, you cashed in your vacation days and let the shadows lead you away over the seas to Romania. Softly landing in the Hoia-Baciu Forest felt—surprisingly—like home.

The whispers of the shadows nudged you around the forest, deeper and deeper, past the oddly shaped trees straight to a burnt circle of land where dried trees grew. Walking past the circle changed the scenery, from gloomy grey trunks to moss-covered, flourishing weeping willows circling a little lake.

Walking back to the edge of the circle, you stuck half of your body out and back observing the change happening right before your eyes. It seemed to be a Midnight City magic dome thing. Inside the dome, it was quite beautiful, the astilbes and the Japanese irises giving some color to the landscape. Your hands softly traced the taller flora as you got closer to the lake, lifting off the ground to move towards the center where a small piece of rock was.

This was a great place for an altar and the shadows greatly approved, too. Sitting on your ass, crisscross apple sauce, you placed your hands on the smooth surface, transfiguring it to expand and even out a bit more.

By the time you were done setting wards so no one could find the place and adding the actual altar and the statues for Lady Gotham and Death it was already so late.

With a small sigh, you place yourself in front of the altar once more. You were never religious, your biological mother didn’t care, Bruce didn’t, the Graysons didn’t- it felt awkward to pray to them. Constantine mentioned that praying to them could just be talking to them, they’re not Yahweh, they’re not Allah, they don’t abide by those rules.

So, you didn’t either. You thanked them for the blessings they gave you, hoped they were well, and told them about your day, leaving them with a bowl of sliced apples and some flowers, deciding to visit the rest of the country while you still had a few days of vacation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Went to Mars, almost got killed by Martians, got the shit beaten out of me for trying to help the Titan, got half of Teen Team- er… the new Guardians in hospital. Also, his one guy in the college was kidnapping male students he saw as peak alpha males and modifying them to essentially turn them into robocops wannabes consisting of no free will and mech bodies, including William’s boyfriend, for the betterment of the human race.” Marks sighs tiredly. “Amber and I broke up and made up again. Told her I’m Invincible… she knew.”

Debbie just looked at her son, before turning to look at you. Maybe she should stop asking how everyone’s day was. “Don’t look at me like that, ma. For once I had a normal day. Visited a lot of places in Romania after finding a little nook for my altar and got some presents for you two and our friends.” You shrug as you take another bite of food. “How was your day?”

Your mother smiles. Well, maybe she shouldn’t, it was the little normality she had in her life. “Sold a penthouse to a billionaire who had a set of all gold teeth.” You snort at that. “That’s one way to show off.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Since sunrise Mark has been searching for his dad and once he did, he immediately tackled him, rolling through the air for a bit before stopping. “Where have you been?! Why haven’t you said anything?” Nolan didn’t get to respond Mark continued. “Are you cheating on mom? Do you have a second family or something?”

“What?! Of course not! Why would you-“ Nolan stutters at the audacity. “Because one day you just decided to up and disappear! You barely come home anymore- Do you even love us anymore? I need you to think about it before you answer- really consider it, because I want you to mean it truthfully- Do you love us?”

The older Viltrumite couldn’t hide the shock, the anguish as he actually thought about it. Loving them meant going against his mission- to a small degree, sure, he could still finish it- but- “Yes... I-I do. I truly love your mother and you deeply. I love your sister just as much. You three are very important to me.”

“Then stop this- nonsense!” Mark waved his arms around. “You’ve been missing for almost two months, barely come home to sleep- You know how paranoid my sister is, she’s making plans over plans on how to take you down because she thinks you snapped and are trying to conquer the planet.”

“She thinks I plan to conquer Earth?” Nolan asks softly, hands clenching at his side. “Yes! She thinks me and mom don’t know but I found her encrypted files- she thinks now that you know the Viltrumites can create offsprings that have powers with humans, you have started making plans to take over. She thinks you killed the Guardians because they could have slowed you down, maybe even stopped you- she thinks you’ll come to me and ask me to help- that you’ll come clean and confess that the Viltrumites are- are these-“

Mark couldn’t finish… How could he? You didn’t come up with these ideas out of thin air- you had evidence. Circumstantial evidence- but it still was so compelling, too many coincidences to be just nothing. “She made plans that could take me down, too. Just in case I would accept to help you- she’s gone mad, dad. And- and I started to believe it too.”

Mark looks at his father, straight in his eyes. “So I need you to come home, to talk to us- I don’t want to believe it- I don’t want to think that you’d ask me to do such bullshit.” The young man clenched his fist. “Please tell me she’s wrong- because if she isn’t- I won’t help you. I’ll do anything to stop yo-“ Mark didn’t finish as Nolan threw a punch, breaking his mask and making him bite his cheek.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Honestly, Eve, I can’t believe you didn’t dump Rex the first time he cheated.” You sipped on your soft drink as you walked with Eve. “I know- It’s just- we both-“ She tried to come up with a reason, just a tiny one to try and keep her pride. “You both got your powers in a lab- yes. I know. That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve the respect of a man. And I can’t believe Kat jumped at the first opportunity- is the ‘not your bestie’s ex’ not in the girl rulebook anymore?”

As Eve opened her mouth to respond to that, what came out was a gasp of shock as her eyes caught the fight happening on the news. “What? Are the news more import-“ As you tuned to look behind you at the TVs in the electronics shop your mouth dropped with the drink you were holding.

The flashing pictures of Mark and the Immortal fighting furiously against Nolan make your blood run cold. The robot cameras that were flying around the men managed to pick up some of the conversation, mostly Immortal furiously yelling but- “This isn’t you! You don’t want to do this! You just feel like you have no choice, but you do!” they caught Mark too.

“Is your dad being mind-controlled?” Eve asks, clearly worried as she looks at you. “No…” Is all you say before you disappear with a breeze of air. It wasn’t a good idea to travel via magic right now. Eve caught a glimpse of Omni-man decapitating The Immortal before she changed into her costume and tried to keep up with you.

Somewhere in space, the League of Justice and Laughing Magician could only watch in terror as the news kept up with the man and his son. “Please don’t… Please don’t try and stop him.” John’s whispered payers were met only with Batman’s suspicious glare. “We should go and help!” Superman’s worried pleas was quickly shut down.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mark couldn’t register everything his father yelled at him as they fought through the air, and he definitely could not after being thrown into the ground and punched twice. But he could answer one question. “You and her… I’d still have you and my sister, dad.” And Nolan hesitated on his third punch. But you didn’t.

Your hit threw Nolan off Mark, making the older man crash into a crater of his own. You didn’t let him get a break. “I trusted you! We all did!” Punch after punch, the ground beneath his head created a bigger and bigger hole. “Mom and Mark love you! I love you! And you go and chose them?!”

You didn’t even notice when John Constantine popped in, almost stumbling through the portal as he ran to your brother, racking his brain for every healing spell he could use. He didn’t care that Bruce would corner him when he went back and interrogate him about this, not when you needed him.

“What is so important about them that we didn’t give you?! You haven’t seen them in years-“ Your yelling cracked as you sobbed, your tears mixing with the blood of the man. Why didn’t he choose you? “Why not us? Why them?! Why are you letting me beat the shit out of you?!” As your hands clenched above your head in a double axe handle motion, ready to turn his face into mush, you’re stopped by your brother’s voice calling your name.

Your fury turns to fear and worry as you look towards him, getting up just to stumble towards him and John. Your tears clouded your vision as you fell to your knees by Mark, gently holding his hand as you inquired about him. “I’m fine- just like, five punches to the head and a throw to the ground.” He croaked out, flinching slightly as his nose set back into place while John continued doing his best to heal the young man.

“In other universes, you either die or get the snot and spline beaten outta ya- this is so much better kid.” Constantine immediately cringes at his words, his eyes meeting yours as he instantly apologizes. “- I should have told you, hen-“

The sound of the sonic boom doesn’t even make you flinch. If Nolan wanted to run away, that was fine by you. “I knew. Nobody is that kind just to help out of the goodness of their hearts.” You said softly, reassuring him with a squeeze of his arm. “I should have done more. Should have told the Guardians or someone about my suspicions, my plans on how to deal with him-”

“You made contingency plans?” At your stutter and confused look, Mark could only laugh, immediately getting what the man meant. The rumors of Batman’s paranoia were true after all. “She even made a few for me in case I accepted.” John huffed in amusement at that. “Well- then we better keep you away from the Bat, he may just adopt you.” Some of the League’s members couldn’t hold in their laughs at the utter disgust your face showed. “With my track record of father figures you better keep the furry as far away from me as possible.” Constantine could hear Hal's laughter from where he sat as she finished speaking.

“We should get going before Cecil shows up.” You sigh while helping Mark get up. “We’re moving again? I just got here…” Eve said as she finally landed, getting Mark’s other side. “You both were hard to find, and I missed everything.”

“No need- I can help with that.” John groans as he gets up, brushing his pants off before he opens a portal to Mark’s home. “Alright, let’s get the lad home.” He lets the kids through first, and before he steps in too, he makes sure to flip off the robot cameras, just for Bruce.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou

[ghostgirl-22]

If you saw me post this and accidentally delete the ask and everything, no you didn’t 😭

But yeah anon. Patrick would do anything for him.  Make a mess of him before his first hook up with the prettiest girl in school. Just because he feels like it, just because he can. Because Art’s his best friend. His.  

He’s an amazing friend.

CW: 18+ NSFW 

——-

“Is it okay?” Art asks. He’s dressed up so nice in one of Patrick’s smaller sweaters, its cloudy blue like his eyes. He’s got on fitted black jeans, and a brown leather jacket. He looks so good, smells so good, like black cherry and tobacco, this expensive cologne that he only wears when he thinks he might get laid. 

He’s visibly nervous. Chewing incessantly on spearmint gum. Always nervous about his first time with a new girl. Patrick doesn’t know why, if he was a pretty girl he’d be wet the moment Art turned that shy little smile in his direction. He doesn’t need to dress up, pretty boy. He got Kennedy Sawyer’s attention in sweatpants and a t-shirt while he was arguing with Patrick over final fantasy play styles at breakfast.

But that’s not important. What’s important is Patrick just wants to help. Art is his best friend after all. He sits up on his bed, dropping his game controller. “Come ‘ere,” he says. Art checks his hair in the mirror for the third time and then approaches Patrick, eyes dilated, nerves making him run his sweaty palms awkwardly over his jeans.  That’s when it catches Patrick’s eye. He teases his finger tips up Art’s thighs up to the bulge along his hip, it’s not obvious but Patrick knows him so well, knows how he tries to hide it, but Patrick can tell that he’s hard. “I can’t calm down,” Art admits quietly. 

“You wanna know my secret?” Patrick asks, gripping at either side of his unzipped jacket and pulling him closer. “Like how I stay cool when I’m out with a beautiful girl?” 

Art looks hopeful that Patrick’s about to tell him the secret to life. “How?” 

Patrick tugs Art a little bit closer so he’s got a leg on either side of one of Patrick’s thighs. “I like to rub one out first…  just to help my nerves.”

“I um—really?” Art studies him, trying to decide whether Patrick means it or if he's full of shit. “No fucking way,” he decides, followed by that stupid pretty smile of his, the one that makes Patrick want to get on his knees. 

“I’m so serious,” that smile is contagious even when Arts annoyed. Patrick keeps his grip on Art’s jacket to hold him in place. “It helps, I promise. Especially if she’s really pretty, like Kennedy is. Plus it helps so I don’t finish too fast when we…” he looks up at Art's pretty blue eyes, letting him fill in the blank.

He’s chewing again. Anxious. He definitely has that “too fast” issue. He gets so excited. Patrick still touches himself remembering the night Art asked him, red faced and shy to please show him how to French kiss. Not even two minutes with Patrick’s tongue in his mouth and he’d already cum in his pants and got so embarrassed he nearly cried. Doesn’t even get how gorgeous he is. 

Oh. Patrick just wants to help him. Wants to help him so bad. He’s his best friend after all. Patrick can just imagine Art, soft and sweet and so gentle with her. Fucking into her, losing it too fast and promising he can do it again. Tears of shame in his eyes. God, Patrick kinda wants to be her. 

“I guess I should…” Art says quietly, bringing Patrick back from his thoughts. His expression thoughtful, his tongue, eager as he plays with his gum in his mouth. 

“I mean… what could it hurt?” Patrick shrugs, grabbing at Arts belt buckle.

“Um…” Art blinks, confused. He’s so smart but stupid about some things. He gets with the program fast enough, once Patrick’s got his hands on him. God, he’s hard. So fucking hard he’s already leaking into his boxers, can’t calm down. Let’s Patrick pull him onto his lap as his breathing picks up. “Patrick, no, it’s late. ‘m gonna be late,” he sounds a little panicky, but he’s gripping at Patrick’s biceps as they both look down at his lap, Patrick’s hand working inside his boxers. 

“No, it’s okay, I promise,” Patrick whispers. Not sure what he’s promising, he’s already lost the plot. Art smells so good. Patrick always wonders if he tastes as good as he smells in this cologne. He licks a stripe up the side of his throat, kisses his way up to Art's lips. Petal soft and minty, Art opens up right away. His mouth heated and… oh so wet. He scoots closer, his neatly ironed shirt getting wrinkled because he’s pressed up against Patrick’s body. His fingers tangled in Patrick’s hair. The kiss getting sloppier, sticky gum sliding back and forth between them. He’s chaos. So good at keeping it all in until he can’t. 

If Patrick wasn’t hard from the moment Art got back to the room to get ready for his little date he’d be gone by now. Patrick is dizzy, swallowing on Art’s helpless little gasps, the kinda kissing that can make Art come untouched. But Patrick wants to touch him,  bucks his hips up so Art can feel him. It’s not too long before Art is just mouthing him, no technique no nothing, just opened mouth moaning against Patrick’s lips. Patrick’s heart is racing, the blood pounding in his ears. He’s on the brink. 

“Tell me what you wanna do to her?” Patrick mutters hot, against his lips, hand gripping tighter, moving faster. You’ve been so patient for two months. So good… I bet you can’t wait to fuck into her wet dripping cunt…”  

“God Patrick…I want it so bad,” He whines. “I wanna— wanna fuck— fuck—” 

“Yeah?” Patrick coaxes, as if any of this is coherent.

“God Patrick, Patrick,” it’s all he can manage before spilling it everywhere, heated sticky pearls of white all over that neatly pressed blue shirt and black jeans. The image of it makes Patrick lose it, breathless in his pants. They’re both sitting there, catching their breaths. A soft sheen of sweat visible on Art’s forehead, his skin mildly flushed.

”Fuck,” Art whispers after a minute. “My…my clothes.” 

“Yeah,” Patrick sighs, leaning back on the bed, letting the mess on his palm spread onto his sheets. “Shoulda done it before you got dressed probably…” 

Art takes a deep breath and pushes himself up to his feet, while simultaneously trying to straighten himself out. Patrick watches him, mildly amused. “I have to change… do you um… do you have another shirt?”

”I mean… I think what you were wearing is perfect. God. It really brings out your eyes.”

”Well I can’t wear it now, and I’m already late, god I’m supposed to meet her out front in ten minutes. We’re gonna miss the movie and the next show is not till 8 and we won’t make dinner before curfew and Ms. Henderson will be sitting outside the girls dorm and—” He’s started talking so fast he’s getting pitchy.  

“Hey I got a crazy idea,” Patrick interrupts and Art stares at him, so pathetically frustrated but also covered in jizz. It almost makes Patrick laugh but he stops himself. “This is supposed to be special, right? Why don’t you wait till tomorrow night? You can wash everything and you know… we can do it before you get dressed next time.”

”No we are not doing that again,” Art says determinedly, because he’s so sated and in his right mind.  

“Well you can then,” Patrick shrugs, smirking. 

Art rolls his eyes and goes to pick up his phone from the charger to text her the change of plans. Patrick goes into the bathroom to clean up a bit. 

“I’m gonna be hungry, should we order pizza?” Art calls from the room. 

“Yeah,” Patrick says, smiling to himself in the mirror. “Definitely.” 

[morgana-larkin]

Alright, here's part 5 of 'Just Tired'. I have to say that I was very happy and surprised that someone asked me when this was coming out and it made my entire week so I want to thank whoever sent that! I just have to that in this part, shit gets real. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I seem to have reached my limit of amount of links I can add to a post so I'm splitting up my Melissa fics. I'm splitting up the one shots and the series fics.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Just Tired - Part 5

Warnings: Manipulative relationship, swearing, two small masturbation parts

Words: 2.6k

You look down between your legs and see a mess of red hair as she eats you out. You feel all the sensations she’s giving you and you can’t help but moan out her name.

“Melissa, right there.” You say breathlessly and she looks up at you and you both lock eyes. You feel as you get closer and closer to an orgasm, you’re right at the edge. Melissa goes to do one more suck on your clit and then your eyes snap open. 

You look around, breathing hard and realise that you’re in your room. Once you regain your senses you notice that it was your alarm that awoke you from your very pleasant sex dream of you and Melissa. You honestly didn’t know that you’d be having sex dreams about her but she’s just that captivating to you, who knew you’d like stubborn fiery women but it honestly doesn’t surprise you. You shut off your alarm and then you feel wetness between your legs and sigh. You get up and hop in the shower. You bring back memories of the dream and give yourself an orgasm in the shower.

“Second orgasm I’ve had to give myself because of this woman.” You mutter to yourself as you try to control your breathing. You then quickly get ready, grab your things as well as your helmet and head out the door.

Melissa is lying awake in bed, she didn’t get much sleep last night as she realises that she might be developing a crush on you. She hears her alarm go off and she quickly goes to turn it off and then goes back to staring at her ceiling for a couple minutes. She then gets up and goes in the shower. She lets the hot water pour over her and she takes a few deep breaths. Even though she might be developing a crush, she can never act on it as she’s married to Joe, even if she’s slightly tempted to act on it.

She then starts trailing her hand down in between her legs and finds her clit. She starts circling it and she lets out a moan at it feeling so good, better than if Joe was doing it. Melissa closes her eyes and feels how good it feels, how she feels her orgasm building quickly. She leans on the shower wall and keeps feeling the pleasure build until she’s right at her peak. Suddenly you flash in her mind and then her orgasm rushes through her. She takes a few seconds to catch her breath and then she realises what happened and she covers her mouth.

“No no no. I can’t have feelings for someone else.” She mutters and grabs her hair. Then a few tears stream down her face and she covers her eyes with her hands as she cries for a good minute “It’s just all the compliments, it’s just nice to hear them, that’s all. I love Joe and I’m his wife, and that’s the way it is.” She mutters and then a thought comes to her. “The damn bastard who hasn’t given me a compliment since I married him.” She says and throws the bar of soap at the wall out of anger. “If you won’t give them to me then I’ll get them somewhere else.” She says as she calms down. She then finishes her shower, gets ready and gathers her things before she hears a knock at the door.

“Hey Mel-” You start to say before you see her outfit. She’s wearing her iconic black leather pants and a green shirt that may be too inappropriate for school.

“Cat got your tongue?” Melissa says with a smirk. 

“Don’t you think that shirt might be too low for school?” You ask her and she shrugs.

“I’ve worn it to school before.” She tells you and then she winks at you before she walks to her car. “Come on, let’s go.” She says and gets in her car.

“It might be too low for school but it looks really good on you.” You tell her after getting in and she smiles at you. 

“Thanks hon.” She says and then drives you both to work. “So what have you got planned with your kiddos today?” She asks as starts driving to school.

“Oh so much fun. They’re gonna do a family portrait, whatever that looks like to them and they’re gonna present it to the class.” You say excitedly.

“That does sound like fun, and what would your family portrait look like?” She asks and you look at her.

“Oh, I’m not doing it, I’m not a great artist.” You tell her and she can tell there’s something more.

“Not all the kids are either but they’ll still have fun doing it, so can you.” She says and you look down and Melissa glances at you. “You don’t have to tell me about your family but if you want then I’m all ears and maybe I’ll even throw in one question that I’ll have to answer.” She says and you look at her.

“What question?”

“Whatever question you want to ask me.” She says and you look at her.

“You said maybe, so that’s not a certainty.” You say and cross your arms.

“Alright, you can ask one question that I have to answer if you tell me about your family.” She tells you and you think about it.

“Ok deal.” You say and hold your hand out. She quickly shakes it when it’s safe to do so. “My family wasn’t great.” You start with. “They’re religious and they didn’t support me when I came out. They tried to get me to be straight, to be normal, but I kept fighting with them everytime. The day I turned 18 I moved in with a friend and went to school to be a teacher. I was able to make enough money to move here with that roommate and I never heard from my parents after I left them.” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow.

“And after all that you’re still…sane?” She asks and you chuckle.

“I’m able to be myself, that’s what keeps me sane. If I’m not able to be myself then what’s the point of being me?” You say and Melissa looks everywhere but at you for a good 30 seconds as she thinks about what you just said. 

“That’s a good point.” She finally says and you hum.

“Ok, now I get to ask my question and I know exactly what I want to ask.” You say and turn to her. “You might not like it though.” You add and she gives you a weird look.

“Alright, what is it?”

“You said you married Joe because you love him, but why are you still married to him when he doesn’t treat you as he should?” You ask her and she furrows her eyebrows and her jaw drops.

“What?” She asks.

“Do you really not see it?” You ask her and she stops at a red light and looks at you. 

“See what?”

“Out of everything you’ve told me and what I saw on Saturday, he’s not nice to you.” You tell her bluntly and she looks away as the light turns green.

“You’re wrong, he loves me.” She says and she gulps.

“Is that what you keep telling yourself?” You ask, really pushing it as she turns into the parking lot of the school.

“What are you really asking me?” She tells you angrily.

“Why are you married to someone who doesn’t treat you like a queen?” You ask plainly and her eyes widen in shock. “You’ve told me he doesn’t touch you, apologise when he should, or even compliment you.” You add and you see her continue to just stare at you in shock. “You never told me he doesn’t compliment you but with the way you take compliments when I give them, I figured that part out myself.” 

“I don’t need all that stuff to have a happy marriage.” She simply says and then gets out of the car and you follow her.

“Melissa, I might be overstepping… a lot, but what I saw on saturday, it looks like…well, like manipulation.” You say to her face and she looks in your eyes and sees no lies.

“What? I’m not being manipulated.” She says and looks taken back.

“That friend I mentioned who I moved in with when I turned 18, she was in a manipulative relationship without knowing it but another friend of hers found out and helped her and she told me all about it.” You say and she sighs. “It’s easy not to see it because manipulators are good at making the victim think they’re in a loving relationship.” You tell her and she walks away from you and into the school.

“I don’t want to hear another word from you for the rest of the day.” She tells you as you catch up with her. “Got it?” She asks and points a finger at your chest.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped but I’m worried about you.” You tell her.

“Worrying about me and having some sort of crush on me are two very different things.” She tells you and continues walking to the break room.

“What makes you think I have a crush on you?” You ask her and she looks at you, rolls her eyes and scoffs.

“You’re very obvious, kid.” She says and then enters the break room.

Everyone else is able to sense some sort of tension between you and Melissa as soon as you both enter but everyone is smart enough not to bring it up, due to two of them fearing Melissa and the other one thinks it’s too early to be solving anything right now. Barb ends up stopping you in the hallway after you bring your kids to the caf and she drags you to her classroom.

“Barbra, what is it?” You ask her as soon as she closes her door.

“What is going on between you and Melissa?” She says, straight to the point.

“Nothing.” You tell her and she gives you a look that says ‘really?’ “Ok, I may have said some things to her on the way to school that maybe I shouldn’t have.” You say and don’t look her in the eye the entire time.

“What did you say to her?”

“May have mentioned she might be in a…manipulative relationship.” You tell her and look down. “I saw her and Joe on Saturday and it was so clear that she’s in one.” You defend yourself and you hear Barb sigh.

“She is in one.” She confirms and you look at her.

“What?”

“I’ve known her since the very start of her marriage with him.” She says and sits in her chair. “I tried to get her to see it but she’s stubborn and she kept defending him.” She tells you.

“How do we help someone who’s in one, especially when they don’t know it?” You ask her and she looks at you.

“From what I read, drop hints and hope they’ll figure it out.”

“I just dropped the biggest hint of all by telling her plainly and she still can’t see it.”

“Give her time, Melissa is smart but incredibly stubborn and I know it’ll be on her mind. You planted a seed in her mind.” She says.

“I planted a seed but she doesn’t want to speak to me.”

“People in these relationships get defensive as they don’t want to see the truth. She’ll forgive you one day.” She tells you and you sigh. You then get up and open the door and see Melissa there about to knock.

“Melissa!” You say in shock and her jaw drops and just stares at you. Barb looks at the door and sees the two of you just staring at each other for a few seconds.

“I came to see Barb.” Melissa tells you softly and you nod before you walk around her and go to the break room.

“I guess it’s advice day today.” Barb mutters as Melissa watches you walk away. “What is it, Melissa?” She asks her and Melissa snaps out of her trance and goes into Barb’s classroom.

“I saw you weren’t in the break room so I brought your lunch and I want to talk to you anyway.” Melissa tells her and hands Barb her lunch. 

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Y/n said the craziest thing to me this morning. She said I was in a manipulative relationship with Joe.” Melissa says and scoffs before looking at Barb.

“And what’s the issue?”

“Well it’s crazy, I think I would know if I was being manipulated, much less my husband.” Melissa says and paces around the room.

“Do you even know the signs of manipulation?”

“No, what for?”

“How would you know you were being manipulated if you don’t know the signs?” Barb asks her and Melissa freezes.

“Hang on, it sounds as if you’re on Y/n’s side in this.” Melissa tells her.

“Melissa, there’s no sides here, we’re just looking out for you to make sure you’re happy.” Barb tells her carefully.

“Well I am happy so there’s no need to look out for me, unless you're so unhappy in your marriage and you’re looking to take down a happy marriage to make yourself feel better.” Melissa snaps and then storms out while cursing in italian. 

Melissa ends up not speaking to anyone for the rest of the day and blatantly ignores you while she drives you to her place. Whenever you try to talk, she turns up the music and sings, you just gave up after a few attempts and looked out the window.

“Get your damn bike and you can bring yourself to work tomorrow.” She tells you while not looking at you and then enters her house while slamming the door.

You let out a sigh before you go get your bike from the backyard. You roll it out, put on your helmet and then ride home. Melissa watches you from the window as you take off on your bike and she lets out a breath before she throws her sunglasses across the room in anger.

“For fuck sake!” She yells out before she just collapses on the couch. She was starting to open herself out to someone and they’re just trying to tell her what to do. She then thinks that you never told her to do anything, simply stating a worry, Barb too. Why would they both be worried she’s in a manipulative relationship when she’s not? Then she remembers what Barb says about signs and she gets her phone out. She then googles what the signs are in a manipulative relationship. “This will definitely prove I’m not in one and it’ll show them.” Melissa mutters as she clicks on a site and reads them out loud. “Gaslighting, passive aggression, silent treatment, love bombing, guilt tripping, isolation, threats, with…withholding affection, triggering insecurities, confusion, lying and blaming, blame shifting, frequent apologies to the manipulator.” She reads outloud and then she looks into each of them. 20 minutes later she looks up from her phone with a few tears running down her cheeks. She then stand up, grabs a pillow and begins to hit the couch with it over and over again. “SON A FUCKING BITCH!”

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[mahyuume]

CAPABLE OF LOVE!

— synopsis. the ways he proofs being capable of showing love!

pairing. various!haikyuu, jjk, bllk, mha, windbreaker x reader | genre. romance, fluff, crack.

reminders. I’m posting after a suuuper long break, hope you guys like this! | mlist

I THINK I NEED I NEED A PICTURE, is something you’ve said countless times to your boyfriend (who will one day be your husband) then proceeding to whip out any kind of device capable of taking a photo. Currently, is happening right now.

“Baby, we need a picture, again!” You gleam at him, the look on his face already dreading the next fifty photos going to be taken; exhausted from taking the last hundred— or maybe more than that photos. But, reluctantly, he agrees. “Fine, but this is the last time,” the boy sighs then flashes his award winning smile. Just in time for- click! that. Now holding the freshly printed Polaroid, he takes a look at your face instead of the physical copy of you both.

Staring at the facial features adorned on you, he sees no flaws whatsoever. He stares at your eyes; shiny but with the hints of clear joy. Lips— he’s kissed them multiple times, but never got over how soft and plush they felt. Always wondered how you do it.

“Are you even listening to me?” You turned your head to him, giving him a small frown. He snaps back into his senses from you cutting his train if thought; now darting back at your eyes, then lips again. “Sorry,” he clears his throat, trying to get rid of all the mushy thoughts in his head. “What were you saying?” Giving a small huff, you re-explain why you both need so many photos. But truth be told, he wasn’t listening one bit. Okay, just a little, but your face is something he could look at for hours. The look of love is real when it comes to him, due to the fact that he always manages to accidentally ignore you; all while adoring you.

As voices drown out, he thinks about adding this new photo to the heart shaped Polaroid collection in his room. Cracks out a stupid smile, then further proves to be undeniably whipped for you.

TOBIO KAGEYAMA, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, NAGI SEISHIRO, RIN ITOSHI, KUNIGAMI RENSUKE, SHOTO TODOROKI, NEITO MONOMA.

‘CAUSE IT’S NEVER ENOUGH! Is what your boyfriend says almost if not every-time he gifts you things. His reasoning is always “just because” and that he truly meant it when he said if he could give you the whole world, he would. And what I just relayed out for you to process, plays out in your daily life. And is, right now.

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Repeated sounds of the doorbell chiming in your ear, you smile as you already know who’s behind the door while opening it for your love. But this time like most, it’s not your love facing you. It’s a big teddy bear that’s twice his size. You’re even surprised a thing like that could fit into his car!

“And who is this for?” You question him, a silly one at that. “Some cute girl I met.” He responds but not so clearly since the bear completely hides his figure besides the arms of his holding it up, drowning in the big fluffy stuffy. You roll your eyes at his answer, “Oh? Come in and tell me all about her.” Entertaining him, you take the legs of the bear and help him inside. And oh my, it was pretty heavy. But no surprise your super strong fiancé could lift it without a sweat.

“I would but…” “But?” “I have more things for the pretty girl inside my car,” he looks over at you with a stupid smile. “If you don’t mind.” He says while walking away back to the front door in a seemingly rush.

Coming back, his hands and arms are full of designer goods, and some even being valentine gifts. Talk about a man who can treat!

“You got me all this?” A gasp leaves your pretty lips as he stares at them, it making him smile in return too. “Yup.” Helping him get the bags, he watches you with a dumb look that makes you wanna slap him for being such a mushy lover. Of course, in a good way!

Opening your early valentine gifts, each one never failed to surprise you and leave you even more grateful for the man watching and recording your reactions. He points to the Nekta bag next to you. In the video, you’re surrounded by countless luxury brands but he decides to point out a specific one.

“Open that one baby.” He smirks behind the camera, watching your face twist into one of excitement and shying away from the camera. “Why? What’s in here?” You say as your paid for nails on hands reach for the Nekta bag. Opening it, there’s many boxes to choose from. You’re not sure which he meant. “Which one?” He points to a small one, the tiniest out of the bunch.

Unraveling the box and seeing the message, cluelessly, you didn’t notice how your boyfriend set down the phone and got down on one knee.

‘Look in front of you dummy.’ You read aloud then looked up. And there he was, holding the missing ring from the box, proposing to you with it.

“Will you marry me?”

HAJIME IWAIZUMI, SATORU GOJO, SAE ITOSHI, REO MIKAGE, KATSUKI BAKUGOU.

TO SEE YOU SMILING IN MY MIND is a memory you often hear being told over and over again by your boyfriend. His dreams of you both are beyond romantic or very dramatic, there’s really no in between.

By far the most exaggerated thing he’d ever say is something about how you two turned into fishes and lived a happy life together swimming around the ocean, avoiding sharks and fishermen. But this time, it’s quite different.

Ding! Ding! Your phone goes off at 7:35pm, right as you’re getting ready for bed or doing whatever it is. Checking what notified you, a smile lit across your face as you read your boyfriend’s display name.

Weird random: Babe

Weird random: I had another dream call me rn it’s so important

Giggling and mentally calling him a weirdo, you read the messages in-app then click the Video Call option.

“Oh my gosh baby, you won’t believe what I dreamt of.” Is what you hear your boyfriend say from the audio of your phone that’s now prompt up on a water glass as a substitute for a stand. “What’d you predict this time?” You cheekily asked him as he closes the space between his device and face; now a super close up of him is in your screen.

You’re not complaining though. He’s in one of those hoodies you promised yourself to ‘borrow’ one of these days and has messy bed hair, which tells you he just woke up from a nap.

“Okay so like, it’s me and you right,” he settles his phone down somewhere around his house, now making hand motions like a story teller. “Mhm.” “We’re having this cute date and stuff right.” “And?” “And then like, you look so beautiful. Like so, like, just so beautiful that flowers bloom when you walk near them type of beautiful!”

Laughing at his silly compliment, it doesn’t fail to make your cheeks turn a pink hue. “You’re so corny I swear…” it’s his turn to laugh at your comment, “Come on girl, don’t tease me like that.” His voice suddenly turns into one more of a softer beat, “hurts my feelings.” He says as he puts a hand on his heart, seemingly clutching it. Rolling your eyes at your favorite boy, he continues on with his story- dream. His dream.

“Then boom, some random dude comes up to you and goes like ‘hey you’re pretty’ and I’m like ‘dude back off’ and then we get into a fight in order to see who wins your love.” At this point he was just background music as you did your night routine. “Babe, are you even listening?” Or maybe not.

“Of course I am.” You look at him from the side of your eye, noticing how he’s now closer than earlier. “Doesn’t seem like it.” From the looks of it, it seems like you’re plain out ignoring him. But you’e not, really! “Promise I am.” Adjusting the camera to face you fully now, he focuses on you rather than talking about his hefty dream storyline.

“What if I just married you, like, tomorrow?”

What a nice question he asked, and your answer is…

“I don’t know?” You stop doing whatever you’re doing and look at him. “Why’re you asking?” “No reason.” Liar. “Stop lying!” His hands go up in protest, “I’m not!” He looks away for a bit then returns to stare at you. “Just… just had a dream about it.” And it clicks.

“So that’s what you were trying to tell me?” And like that, it’s as if a lightbulb went off in his head. “Ah, I guess so…” he muttered, hand on his nape as he realizes he’s not the best at lying when it comes to you. “I mean, come on!” He finally breaks, “you looked so good in the wedding dress and we…” his voice trails off the second you were getting invested.

“We?” You omit him to continue, but it comes out hurriedly. “We had a big, happy family. Like seriously happy.” He admits with a smile, clearly smitten about you. This makes you innerly gush about him.

“Yeah?” “Yeah. We did.” He sighs, “If only it were true.” He fake pouts, an ugly thing he does that makes you laugh horribly. “I mean, it can be.” You nonchalantly said, as if you weren’t wishing for the same thing. His eyes light up from your sentence, lips curling into a smile. “You can’t take that back!” You laugh at his antics, “as if I would ever.”

SHOYO HINATA, TOORU OIKAWA, YUUJI ITADORI, MEGURU BACHIRA, YOICHI ISAGI, KEIGO TAKAMI (HAWKS).

​৻ꪆ. Happy valentines everyone! I hope you like this one. (It’s been planned ever since December.) there were supposed to be two more lines added but I seriously ran out of time and didn’T know who else to write for… so, take this??

[utilitycaster]

A couple things before I do this as I said I would here

I’ve decided it’s more effective in the long term to bring up a handful of people than everyone who’s ever been obnoxious, mostly to maintain ongoing leverage, ie, maybe if people leave me alone they can get away with their lower-key shitty behavior, and if people don’t, then they won’t.

Do not harass nor send hate to the people I've mentioned; take the high ground. Blocking, vagueing and openly going “what the fuck is wrong with that guy (gn)” however is chill, but I won’t be taking anons personally that are pile-ons on these people because that is not the point of this exercise.

Similarly I just delete anon hate or post it if I have a funny enough response for it but it won’t elicit this kind of thing for various reasons I don’t care to get into right now.

If my good opinion is important to you, really, the quickest way to lose it is to treat me expressing my own opinions on my blog as a personal attack on you. I wasn’t specifically judging you until you decided I was; now, I will ruin your day or week and I won’t feel sorry.

Now, I’m going to be honest. The reason I haven’t done this earlier despite the shit I and many others have waded through all campaign is that the vast majority of people who engage in harassment, hate, or “how dare you exist and have opinions that aren’t mine, don’t you know the world revolves around me” will then immediately make a post like this, such as the loser who led to this: (rest below the cut)

source

To be clear I do hope they get whatever presumably important medical procedure this is and I too am in opposition to transphobia on an active political level, however, if you take your own shit out on me, a random woman on the internet, I will continue to fight for what I believe to be your fundamental human rights like gender expression and healthcare but there is no right you have that prevents me from calling you a stupid thin-skinned loser and that I feel sorry for anyone who has the misfortune to love you as I suspect you’re incapable of truly returning it, and also your blorbo still sucks. This has been: if you attempt to treat me even slightly like your punching bag, I punch back.

With that in mind let’s go to the people I’m talking about today. If you're not into this, skip the cut.

I think it goes without saying that warrior/inrecovery was an embarrassing blight on this fandom and imo/dna shippers’ steadfast laxity in taking out the trash is yet another reason why this ship ain’t it chief. I’m posting all of the aliases under which they attacked me and others, but they flamed out during the Laudna addiction metaphor and hopefully got help, though as you can see their blog for the past like, decade, is them attacking people over femslash ships, so idk if it’s gonna stick, pals. Anyway, they have a distinctive style so hopefully if they ever rear their ugly head again I’ll be able to get and post an IP address. I did have some suspicions about Tulsa OK but they are not sufficiently founded. Anyway: you can also find them under tlb/wc (they use that one to make death threats); thatguy/10592; clearcowboy/angel; screechingalpha/nightmare; and holysoul/enthusiast, all of which are still up and have the evidence as of posting

Honorable mention to the person who called me a hypocrite for checks notes liking callowmoore more than Imo/dna (series of asks from November 11th, 2023 in which they harassed not just me but many people who had simply interacted with my posts). I have my suspicions as to who it was [noted tar pit from Westphalia, Germany absintheheartbeat, who I also think sent this Dorym ask] but as I have no proof that’s really all there is. While we’re talking about generic tar pits disconnectedkat is a discourse blog that is just generally a piece of shit and is one of those people who clutches pearls about HOW DARE YOU TRY TO WIN AT FANDOM WITH LEFTIST CAUSES ignoring the big elephant in the room of “countless C3 fans lecturing incompetently about this being a revolutionary anticolonialist narrative and how we’re just status quo loving conservatives and then crying when we point out that they are being shitty in real life.” If you are one of those people reading this and finding yourself getting huffy, do take a look at the people mentioned throughout this and ask yourself: are you okay with them? Because if so, then your issue isn’t “it’s mean to call people stupid and attack them on a moral basis”; your issue is “it’s mean to call me stupid”, and you are part of the problem, and, moreover, I am in your walls.

Theshepardshuffle deactivated but I do want to point them out here just to note that I have in fact suffered more than Job and been more steadfast than any US Marine at the hands of imo/dna shippers for the sin of saying “this ship isn’t very good.” I’d also want to point out that they are why I started checking on people I’ve blocked. See, this is a side blog, so if you block me I cannot interact with you, but I can still see you, and our buddy shep joined tumblr, blocked me, and then posted discourse about me constantly not realizing I could literally see it (and to be clear. I know people I have blocked can see this. I hope they do.)

Anyway, the main event: let’s talk about noted racist idiot hecate astralley/wright (main blog bone/heat), to my knowledge a white American cultural Christian, seen here (archive link if they delete it) mocking someone who found Bells Hells’ behavior justifyingly reminiscent of a conquering colonialist army as their family experienced, and horrifying for it (note: this mention is made with everypigeondeserveslove’s knowledge and permission; they are well aware of this bullshit). Hecate decided it was a good time to be a truly unfeeling piece of shit about this in the service of checks notes convincing people that Bells Hells was an anticolonialist narrative. They did, to be fair, just start reading Wretched of the Earth, so they do know who they’re talking over. I mean about. They also accused me of, when I pointed out this article’s discussion of history and whether it was written by the victors, Godwin’s law, which is not really what that means (saying ‘this phrase has its origins in a lot of hateful groups who used it to evade their responsibility in historical events, and also even if history is written by the victors, that doesn’t mean every alternate viewpoint is automatically wrong’ is simply factual), then turned around and claimed, in a truly stunningly insolent case of putting words in someone’s mouths, that criticism of Imogen and Laudna on the basis of their unkind actions was akin to calling them degenerates (archive)to the point that people were confused. This is an ongoing pattern with that circle; you’ll see it with cringefae/compilation too of just. Making shit up. 

What you need to know about them is in the end they’re mostly just a hypocrite and a loser. They’re really into 9/11 jokes, which to be clear I’m not personally squeamish about, but I also don’t go around screaming about how cruel the fandom is to Aeor, a city that is entirely pretend, while joking about real-life civilian deaths. Absolutely terminal case of caring more about pretend people than real ones. As for the idiot part, interesting to claim at one point that Orym would be saved by the Wild Mother and should, and this is a direct quote from someone who, again, is only now reading the first book listed the “Notable Theoreticians And Theories” list on the Postcolonialism wikipedia page, that he should “read theory” and then claim to have Gotten It From Hearthdell after spending much of the intervening time, as discussed, arguing for the deaths of the gods. In fact, I recommend looking back through their blog in depth for a combination of tiktok-brained politics, an utter lack of empathy, and Consistently Getting It Wrong And Lying And Pretending They Didn’t. 

Second person is cringefae/compilation. When they’re not throwing tantrums interspersed with gifs of the pink My Little Pony, or throwing different tantrums about Kipperlily Copperkettle, or throwing different tantrums about Essek and Verin Thelyss existing within the narrative, you can find them throwing tantrums about how everyone but them is a bigot, often in the main tag. This has been commented on by the general fandom, and it is notable that even others in their circle often won’t touch their vent posts (also many of said posts directly attack others in their circle, which is funny to me). Now I’ll just keep it very basic: I think what’s going on is that cringefae does not think they are a very good person, deep down, but is trying to project an image of being a very good person, and so they have decided that people in the fandom, of which I was public enemy number one before they seemingly discovered the native text block function, are the Real Bad People, and don’t seem to have the ability to process. Now the thing about cringefae is that if you dislike a character OR like but would enjoy them experiencing some fictional horrors and that character is not Essek Thelyss; the Briarwoods; a character I personally like such as Fjord when they are on the warpath (they actually seem to personally really like Fjord and I think high key hate that I like him because they have basically no consistent identity other than contrarianism; they do not seem to like anything, really, other than possibly the pink My Little Pony); or a white cis straight man that they do not headcanon as not that, then they will call you a bigot. Now: you may notice, with a quick perusal of their blog, that they believe Ludinus Da’leth to be a racist who started a race war, which would imply Essek Thelyss is nonwhite, but they have definitely argued against this as well, and recently argued both in favor of Ludinus having a redemption arc and also that they don’t believe in zero-effort redemption arcs, because again, there is zero logical coherence other than attacking people they don’t like for whatever reason. I don’t even have links; just scroll down their blog for a few minutes and you’ll get the vibe (bad). They too have a tendency to make up a guy and get mad at that guy (and have to clarify they're just making shit up in the notes); possibly to assume the worst of the fandom in order to feel better about themself. And whereas I think astralley/wright might know deep down they're attacking real people to defend pretend people and hoping no one will notice and call them on it, cringefae seems to be genuinely too stupid to understand the concept of "it can be interesting for a story to be tragic." They also tend to frequently insult the positions of people in their circle and conflate everything they don't like into one person; again, horse-immorality (deactivated) was one of the loudest "bor'dor is a dog" people and cringefae liked them and now is like IT'S SUPER RACIST TO SAY BOR'DOR WAS A DOG because again, it's not about any position, it's just about finding some arbitrary scapegoat and attacking them so that you can feel righteous, and in doing so, they become a cesspit of a person.

I think the kindest thing you could say about cringefae is that in their incoherence it all kind of cancels out, and absolutely no one really seems to take them seriously. They seem entirely unaware of the concept of crying wolf and how maybe if you say that a woman who checks notes happens to openly prefer the canon art of Jester, Yasha, and Imogen to fan redesigns, canon art that was checks notes designed by women and checks notes drawn by women is a “soft MRA” you might be wildly irresponsible in your accusations to the point of eroding an ability in the fandom to actually point out misogynistic views (also, hanging out with astrall/eywright does kind of fuck your image as caring about the oppressed). It’s accusations as a tool against the people they’ve decided are The Bad Ones. And really that’s the thing. I know we’re all online here, this is explicitly my fandom sideblog and I try to keep it light on politics not because they’re not vitally important but because I do see Tumblr largely as an escape and not as a news source, but I would bet good money this is someone who doesn’t like, do anything other than post. Anyway, just kind of a stream of nonstop constantly shifting incoherent bile worth a block. One of those cases where you're like "have people...just put up with this person in their fandom spaces forever? why? don't fandoms deserve to not have a missing stair like this?"

[sleepymothafterhours]

Anyone but you

Check out ---> M.List for more of my fics <3

If you haven't yet please go read Part One <3 as this is a direct continuation

Divider credit in my pinned post

fic warnings: angst (with a happy ending) , probably wrong medical descriptions, wound descriptions, grief, zayne lowkey has a mental breakdown, hospitals, unhappy marriages? lmk if i missed something

Word count: 2,300

(yes its shorter than the other, I didn't have a whole lot more to say but i did wanna make a part two,)

Check out sleepy moths after thoughts at the end for everythign els + taglist

The Incident (AKA before reader met Zayne)

You had called her, on the way to her place already because you knew your hunter friend would never say no. When she picked up you were about a block away. "Hey, hope I didn't interrupt your date. You home?' You could hear her giggle into the receiver before she told you she'd be ready in a minute. It wasn't uncommon for you to call each other on the way to a mission where you knew you'd need backup. You never regret making a phone call more than you did after that night. You giggled with each other when she got in the car, you asked her about the guy, all she gave you was a sly smile and told you he was "Just an old friend".

The wanderer you'd found was bigger than you had expected. Everything happened so fast. There was fire everywhere, yours, the monsters, it had collapsed a building. You didn't hear her tell you to watch out before you felt its talons slash at your front.

"I'm alright." You yelled but fuck it stung. The thing had some weird tail on the end of it, like a scorpion from the hell. You took it down, you thought. You were trying to put of a fire before you heard it. The schlick sound of a talon impaling human flesh.

She was on the ground before you could take the thing out once and for all. "Shit shit shit." You swore under breath dropping to your knees with a wince. The adrenaline was wearing off and all your wounds were hitting you at once. Your hands shook as you reached for bandages, something, anything, from your bag. "You're okay. Its okay." You said holding her hand, she was cold, she only seemed to get colder. You did everything you knew to do from your training, this wasn't your first time tying a tourniquet but you knew death when you saw it and she was going to die. There was only so much you could do, after all your evol only "blessed" you with the power to destroy. Not to fix.

Paramedics found you after what felt like an eternity, one of them tried to pry you away, tried to get you into an ambulance. "I'm fine help her." You said trying to get the man to go away, he was persistent, your wounds were easy to cover with your jacket. "Get off of me. Help her." She died holding your hand. You hadn't registered it in your shock.

----------

Present day

You push all thoughts out of your head about this fight and its parallels to the last. Dwelling would only get you killed.

This fight was quick but the wanderer was strong. It had knocked through you a couple times, your head ached with the effort it took to stay conscious. Your heart sank as you watched the girl fighting alongside you collapse when the wander turned to dust. You crawled your way over to her checking her for any injuries she may have sustained. "You okay?" You asked foolishly.

"Okay enough to live. Glad you're still in one piece." She said with a chuckle as paramedics arrived. The same scene played through your mind again. You shook off paramedics demanding they help her and now they knew better than to try and get you to cooperate. Plus you weren't bleeding. At least not that noticeably.

"I'm going home. Call me when she wakes up." You said limping back to the girls car to drive yourself home.

You leaned on the bathroom wall for support as you peeled off your shirt to inspect the damages, the scarring from the incident years ago just above a new gash in your abdomen. It didn't look like it would kill you. If anything what might kill you were your knees, which felt like they were crumbling with each step you took. The stench of blood hitting your nose nauseated you, you cleaned and bandaged the wound to the best of your ability but you knew you needed a doctor.

Something in you told you to wake him but you didn't. Couldn't.

You slid down the wall with shaking hands as you tried stapling the wound together. There was no choice but to get your husband.

"Zayne.." You called your voice sounding more meek than you wanted it to. He slept on the side away from the bathroom there was no way he'd hear it. "Zayne!" You tried yelling you heard the bed shift as he seemed to wake. "I need your help." You said, voice cracking on your words.

He was on you in a moment, the light from the bathroom seeping into your bedroom as he flung the door open and knelt down beside you. "What is it?" His voice, normally so soft spoken was firm, and serious now. He looked up at the first aid kit on the counter and back down at you. "My love.."

"I didn't know what else to do." You winced when he got to work disinfecting it, it was freezing, you never did good with the cold. You tried to stay still as he bandaged your wound but the chill was in your bones you couldn't stop shaking. "its so.. fucking..cold." You chattered.

"I know love." he said checking you for any other more serious injuries, the bleeding hadn't stopped, you were tired, god you were tired. "No no. Stay awake for me sweetie." he said patting your face gently until your eyes opened up again. "You need a hospital." He stood despite your protests and lifted you gingerly in his arms.

"No. I'm okay. No hospitals. Please." Your head felt heavy as you rested it on his chest. Your eyes closing again for just a moment.

"Lemme see those pretty eyes sweetheart, c'mon, open your eyes."

"I'm S'posed to be mad at you." You murmured as he took you to the car, he set you down, somehow managing to buckle you in without bumping your injuries, He adjusted the mirror so he could make sure you were awake. "M so sleepy..n cold, I'm so cold." He put a hand on your forehead checking for fever, just in case.

"Need you to try and stay awake for me my love. Can you do that for me?" He felt so far away, you nodded and he chided you for a verbal answer.

He asked you so many questions in the car it made your head throb more than it already was. Until he ran out, until he found he couldn't say anything without potentially crying. Zayne couldn't do this again. He wouldn't survive losing another person he loved so dearly.

Your voice took him out of his thoughts and what you said just about shattered his heart. "Do you hate me?" He couldn't ever.

"Quite the contrary sweetie. Love you so much I put a ring on your pretty finger. Eyes." He couldn't bear seeing you cry like this.

"But your so far away all the time.." Neither you nor him can figure out why this is what your so fixated on talking about. "Like you never wanna see me no more."

It's cause I'm petrified at the thought of this exact scenario. Zayne thinks, he barely survived losing her but gods not you. Anyone but you. He would beg the gods for it for the rest of his life so long as you stayed.

He's lifting you up out of the car apologizing under his breath when you cry out in pain, there's nurses rushing to you both.

"I'm sorry I went back. And I'm sorry she's gone. Wasn't s'posed to be like that." You can barely talk and your eyes feel heavy as nurses are helping him put you on a gurney. "Hush now my love, focus on getting better." He says following the nurses inside. He's not used to being the one waiting. The one sitting in the waiting room, trembling in the plastic seats and waiting for something. Anything. He's filling out paperwork he doesn't even remember being handed, coworkers are asking him why he is here, why he is shaking and he waves them off.

He stays that way until he can't stand it anymore. He goes to his office and waits some more. Zayne is enraged but not with you, somehow never with you. He is enraged at himself and the universe and it's cruel ways and the wanderers that dare try and touch you and now especially he is angry at the one that dared to hurt you like this. Your words play back at him. Had he really been so distant with you? He's throwing the papers off his desk with something that could only be described as a roar of pain. He hates that he's the reason those questions graced your mind. He was losing you and it was his fault.

For the first time since she died Zayne's found himself on the floor of his office, papers scattered haphazardly around him, knees tucked to his chest, he's sobbing.

He falls asleep on his office floor waiting for news about you. He's found the next morning by a concerned nurse. She takes him to your room. You're awake, who knows what time it is by now Zayne hadn't bothered to check.

"You have a concussion." He says matter of factly, "As well as a broken rib."

"Are you here as my doctor or my husband." You say looking out the window, you seemed to look directly anywhere but him.

"That depends. Are you more mad at your doctor or your husband." You crack a smile at the dry humor. You always did.

"Well I'm pretty furious with my husband, but I think I told my doctor specifically no hospitals, so they're tied." Zayne reaches out and brushes a hair out of your face.

"You were going to die if I didn't. I couldn't lose you." He says softly.

"You hardly spare me a glance these days. I doubt you'd notice." Even injured your rage seemed to never die out. "But hearing you don't hate me was nice." So you did remember that conversation. Zayne placed his hand over yours, you were still shivering.

"You're still cold?" He pulls a blanket up closer to you, your tempted to smack his hand away. You don't. He's grateful for this, you can see it in his eyes.

"I meant what I said you know. I do love you. Just as much as the day I married you maybe even more. I was scared when you took your hunting job back. I was cowardly and it pushed you away from me instead of keeping you safe." His hand cups your cheek, hands you water from the hospital standard water bottle you were given. "If you decide to keep hunting I understand and I respect-"

"I'm quitting." You interrupted his statement, he seems shocked right back into his seat. "I never wanted to go back. Everyone wanted me to go back. To honor Her. I thought it was the right thing to do. I hate it now. I want a desk job, or a teaching job. I want you. And our routine and I want you holding me to sleep instead of going to bed with a cold note and waking up without you." For a moment he doesn't seem to believe you.

"You don't have to do this my love."

"Going back has done nothing but royally fuck our marriage. I miss what we were. I want it back. I'm so sick of this shit Zayne, getting hurt, watching people die. Getting fuckin' oggled cause everyone knows I was supposed to die." You might as well be babbling nonsense, he listens nonetheless, like he always does.

"So unless they plan to promote me to a job where I command people and I don't go out anymore. I am quitting." You say finally, leaning back on the hospital bed. He nods. This is what he wants, there's no talking you out of this and he knows that much.

"You asked me if I hate you." He speaks matter of factly again, "I never have. Never. I have been extremely unfair to you these past few months and I am so so sorry my love. I was afraid to lose you and instead of dealing with it I pushed you away. I stopped seeing you in front of me." He gets up to kiss you gently. The first in months and oh how you missed his lips on yours. "I will never miss what's right in front of me again."

-----------

You're released from the hospital 3 weeks after this. You made good on your word. Your boss tried to keep you, but you refused. She ended up giving you a promotion, an office job, your status just a step below hers, you went home ever day at nearly 5pm and made dinner and your life went back to semi-normal.

You found Zayne in the kitchen one night getting home late. He holds you close to him, kissing the top of your head gently and swaying the two of you back and fourth in the kitchen. You missed this. You missed him. Everything finally felt right again.

He had you, and you had him, you loved him so deeply it hurt and he never felt so strongly for anyone but you.

Sleepy Moths afterthoughts: so if there's one thing you need to know its that I have to make my angst end well,

one day I'll write angst with a sad ending but today is not gonna be that day. I loved writing this fic so much, I love Zayne so much oh my god i just wanna ewptsdfhjickmaegpluh. (He's not even my main)

anyway its midnight thirty and I am fucking exhausted, goodnight, i hope you all enjoyed this fic <3

Taglist: @theink-stainedfolk , @alfredosaws , @sylv-1a , @cordidy , @leighsartworks216 , @midiplier , @melonssoup , @sw3etfawn111 , @dhunhdchrih , @i-messed-up-big-time , @fandomenbylover , @notisekais , @jeonjenny , @heeknow , @syluslittlecrows , @sleep-all-day-everyday , @yumi-34 , @k-u-m-a-c-h-a-n , @holywolfsstuff

[fumifooms]

Marcille and Chilchuck’s interwoven character arcs: the fantasy of prince charming, idealization vs pessimism and loss

I’ve alluded to Marcille and Chilchuck being central to each other’s arcs so many times but the proper full analysis has been long overdue. I’ve made a post going into their differences and similarities and the many ways they’re foils for each other, but this is going to give more focus to a narrative rather than character angle this time around. We talk a lot about the importance of Marcille in Chilchuck’s arc, it's more obvious overall, but less so about Chilchuck’s importance in her own, so this is going to emphase on the latter. They have a lot of ridiculously unique conflict specific to their situation and world, and an intriguing dynamic. Relationships can be layered and subtext can imply quite a lot, the reality of things can be more complex than we'd like or hard to reconcile, and that's exactly what we're talking about today and how that is a lesson Marcille needed to learn. Give this a shot and look at the manga pages alongside my reading and decide for yourself wether I’ve got a point or I’m going overboard~!

So, Marcille and Chilchuck are character foils in many many ways, and I think a particularly brilliant part of their arc is how they balanced each other out on idealization. On one hand, idealizing things means only seeing what you want to see through rose-colored glasses, on the other, being completely opposed to it usually means denouncing any optimism at all, refusing to hold any good faith or hope. These stances reflect both their backgrounds, as Chilchuck has lived through being discriminated against and taken advantage of consistently, betrayed by employers and eventually the person supposed to be closest to him, his wife, meanwhile Marcille grew up more sheltered and lonely, and books were a big way through which she experienced social situations & the ways of the world in her rural home before going to the magic academy as a researcher and getting more actual life experience herself.

I think it’s especially interesting to analyze the trope of— the idealization of— the perfect chivalrous prince on a white horse who is pure hearted and will make you swoon, in the context of their relationship and their arcs! It’s a recurring motif- you’ll just have to trust me and read further~ Obviously this contains spoilers for the whole manga, so beware! It's very long because I'm trying to cover the topic fully from the ground up, my apologies.

Table of contents:

How they start out

The Daltian Clan and its importance

Prince Charming vs Chilchuck Tims

Ideals vs desires vs wants

Deconstructing realistic romance & compromising between romanticism and reality

Princess imagery in Marcille

Conclusion

Let’s start with the beginning:

How the characters start off:

Their relationship is both familiar and strained (extra reading: analysis of their relationship pre-canon and early canon), they bounce off each other with the ease of coworkers who’ve been working together for two years and who share similar common sense. Because yes they’re both generally grounded and rational, and generally they respect each other’s input and perspective, but, they both have blind spots…

The biggest hurdle is the way Chilchuck refuses to open up. Marcille has made efforts to befriend him, and though he was open to developing a better workplace dynamic and, say, helping her out with shopping for a pouch outside of work, even if it ended up being counterproductive he’d refuse to even just say his age, let alone share anything about his family situation. Knowing he had kids and a wife would have pretty efficiently fully shut down that he was a kid, and yet he valued being closed off more. Chilchuck is often shown being pessimistic, assuming the worst intentions out of people and being wary of anything good happening, being the last person to trust something or someone, etc. (Quick summary analysis of him I made if you want here, beyond the character foil analysis I linked at the beginning.) He prefers assuming that opening up will only bring him problems to assuming that it'd bring about positive things.

Meanwhile Marcille is very… Honestly she’s hard to classify strongly. Because I could say she’s very open to people, but honestly it’s conditional? She emotes intensely but she’s not quite a befriending machine either, especially when we recall the magic academy days as well, she’s not unused to keeping people at some level of distance, herself keeping a lot of secrets too. She was very wary of Laios at first because she had misconceptions, she holds grudges and isn’t personable with everyone like Namari or Toshiro, when she’s introduced to the party she seems serious and doesn’t smile. While I don’t fully agree, there’s a good analysis not by me here showcasing what I’m talking about. Marcille’s more serious academic side often gets undermined and I think it’s an important part of her, but then the difference between her and Chilchuck comes down to theory vs practice: knowledge vs experience. I think something more fitting to say would be that she’s idealistic and easily swayed, for example the way she lights up whenever she can put a story-like twist on things, her mood can go from dread to hype and reverse in one second, like with riding a kelpie or with the conflict between Chilchuck and his wife, or again with Namari, where it becomes a sort of hero vs antagonist dynamic for her where justice and righteous thoughts should override everything else like needing money to live. She's very stubborn, like he is, but it's easier for her to come around in dramatic ways, on things big and small, mentioning for another example thinking better of orcs suddenly because they can cook well.

So sure on first meeting she isn’t exactly eager, but then we do see her enthusiastically trying to befriend everyone! Becoming very friendly once she’s done assessing them. She is social, and fittingly she’s very curious about people. And that said, aesthetics do matter a lot to her, and I mean this beyond just enjoying vibes, for example- and follow along the lingo I'm setting up here- if something ‘breaks’ an aesthetic like Chilchuck or Falin not being a child she’ll willfully dismiss and ignore it, if she can spin something into a story like Chilchuck’s breakup she’ll get carried away, she can get the wrong impression, be gullible for the sake of believing a narrative, such and such. I’d say she’s guarded around people at first, but then with time becomes an open book emotions wise, how she’s always loudly and unapologetically talking about her feelings and emoting. She’s not reckless, rather she’s bold and often has to make decisions quickly, like when the plan unexpectedly changed during the red dragon fight, but things like using dark magic can feel like thoughtless decisions looking from the outside, like to Chilchuck, who as per his pessimism dictates he sees all of this in a negative light, assumes the worst: that she’s just ignorant, naive and reckless. She’s easily worried and discouraged but still always perseveres.

He's biased against mages and elves because of past experiences and he projects that onto Marcille. And it makes sense because good faith is dangerous to Chilchuck- for his feelings in relationships yes, but more concretely and important for his life at work, the way an old party of his was going to sacrifice him to succubi for easy money. Like the way he constantly puts his non-work values down to the group so they don’t have high expectations of him, having high expectations for someone else is vulnerability he doesn’t want to or cannot afford. The result however is that he, too, put people into boxes to avoid having his preconceived notions challenged. He's very judgemental, which we see with Laios as well, and even with Izutsumi in the ice golem chapter, but by then he's learned to self-reflect more and be honest with his feelings due to Leed, meaning his social conflicts get resolved more often and more quickly, again like with Izutsumi in the ice golem chapter.

So in the end, there are things that stand in the way of them having true, equal respect for one another. She sees him as a kid despite everything else (being capable and mature, etc etc), and he sees her as a ticking bomb of a naive elf mage who’s gonna get herself into legal trouble if she doesn’t get them killed first.

And it takes an arc spanning the whole manga for them to get there, to truly see each other on equal footing, culminating with the bicorn chapter.

I'm going to be mentioning them a lot so in my mind, the most important Marcille & Chilchuck arc defining scenes happen in: mandrake chapter, mimic chapter, shapeshifter chapter, hypogriff soup chapter, changelings, bicorn, succubus, and Marcille dungeon lord. We're talking mostly about Marcille's discrimination and their narrative about loss here, but on the end of Chilchuck's discrimination the dark magic plot is very central so honorable mention to the red dragon chapters, the harpies chapter and the cockatrice chapter, the latter where Chilchuck airs out his beef particularly directly.

Interestingly enough, the mandrake chapter which is in VERY early manga, where characters and dynamics are still being set up, Marcille gets Chilchuck to say that she isn't a burden and that he's glad they have her and her skillset with them, so the question of "does he respect her at all" was answered before the audience could even think to ask it, and Marcille also makes statements shortly after showing she respects him in turn- more on that later. This has for a result that we do know there's a foundation of respect here, even when as said it's not complete... yet.

So let’s get into it! Early on we already get a lot instances hinting at their opposed core values of optimism vs pessimism. It’s perfectly summarized in the two panel excerpts opening this post: "Sounds romantic!" "Sounds fishy.", hope vs wariness. "Meeting you was fate!" "… Which means it’s fate for you to eat these monsters, too!", if good things happening to you is fate then you must accept that all the bad things that happen to you are fate as well. It’s "Things will work out!" vs "Things will not work out".

The issue here seems rather evident, it’s a balancing game. Compromising, adapting your judgement to the situation. Yes Marcille romanticizes things too much and it can cause her trouble, and yes Chilchuck being so closed off on himself gets him into trouble as well.

(Not telling there was a mimic nearby being maybe the most straightforward example.)

His refusal to hope for anything good happening to him ever is at the core of him not having even tried reconciling with his wife (more on that later with the bicorn chapter). Through the manga, Chilchuck influences her to be more savvy and to respect boundaries more (with himself and Namari for example), while she influences him to become more open and give things a go. It’s no coincidence that it’s Marcille that pushes him to try reconciling with his wife and gives him hope that it just might work out- that that chance even on its own means it's worth giving it a shot.

The Daltian Clan & its importance

The importance of fiction in some people's lives and their specific psychological relationship to it is a very complex human brain topic with many many studies and an infinite amount of subtleties, I can't possibly do justice to this section at its full potential but I'll go over my major points. But the complex and layered nature of this relationship is why, for example, the interpretation that Marcille is a lesbian despite her likely attraction/love for male fictional characters (if not even just simping or stanning separate from those), has legs to stand on and is a compelling angle!

The Daltian Clan, often shortened as Dalclan, is Marcille's favorite book series and is very very personally important to her. In an extra we learn that part of it is that seeing a half-elf character personally reached out to her and meant a lot. She feels seen through it. Even if it's notable that the half-elf haracter isn't her favorite, general Hagreus, but the one with black hair. It's a Cinderella type of romance & convoluted political intrigue series full with a lot of drama, reminiscent of stuff like Romeo & Juliette or Richard III.

I believe that books were developmentally very important for her, similarly as to how cartoons are important to the education and development of toddlers and kids nowadays, or how oral stories like fairytales have always been important to teach lessons. Fiction engages readers and provides emotional stimulation, which can often be a flawed substitute for actual human contact- but nonetheless a big factor in socialization. For Marcille who lived in a rather rural region surrounded by books and chickens, who couldn't fit in with kids of any age around, books were a major part of teaching her how to socialize, how people and social groups worked. This is also part of why the autistic Marcille angle can be very compelling and plausible, though personally I don't see it that way.

So yes I think that sort of upbringing shaped her a lot, and I think it's part of why Marcille has trouble not putting people into boxes... Why even though Falin assured her it wasn't like that, Marcille had made this whole narrative in her mind painting Laios as a villain that stole Falin away against her will/for nefarious purposes. Why she has trouble not thinking of/treating Falin as a kid, unwilling to process how she has grown up. Why Chilchuck has to be very young in her mind, and it was very very hard for her to reconcile the fact that he wasn't. (It's actually interesting to note that Marcille treats Falin and Chilchuck similarly in a lot of ways, overstepping boundaries, being dimissive and touchy- There's a lot to say about how the party dynamic changed a lot with during canon it becoming just Laios, Marcille and Chilchuck at first and Laios' monster interest reveal, notably that in Falin's absence that she may have latched onto Chilchuck and treats him similarly to Falin may be her finding it omforting to fall into habits or filling a hole.) I think complexity in fictional characters gets her gears turning, but there's always a film of impersonality to it right, where it's not real, there's a safe distance, if you want to form romantic narratives about how things went down and a character's angst, you can, but someone who’s real… Things are often uglier or harder to grapple with. And she doesn’t want Falin to have grown up, for her to so quickly have aged. I think applying this sort of storybook veneer onto her real life connections, pushing people into boxes, is a way for her to make social relationships more digestible. And she's a big gossip enjoyer too! Engaging in shallow retellings of people's interpersonal drama, eating it up with enthusiasm and curiosity. Part of it, like with novels, is vicariously living through others I think, experiencing making connections where she hasn't or couldn't, the way her relationship with the other girls at the academy besides Falin stayed distant and shallow despite being friendly. Gossip, like stories, are safe, distant from your own life, they're easy to judge, not unlike the irl popular interest in following others’ online drama. You’re not involved yourself, so you don’t have as much chance of getting hurt. So yes, easier to digest. Less complex, less unpleasant things and less contradictions that are hard to process. Sort of like a defense mechanism to not have your worldview challenged, dodging having to recognize these things by assigning them tropes. And I think part of it too like I implied is: she can’t experience actual loss through books and gossip. They give her emotional social stimulation she doesn’t fully allow herself to have with actual humans for fear of getting invested in a way that’s very raw and personal. Again, like how she pushes Falin away to ignore the more nuanced facets to their relationship! The intensity of what I’m speculating on here in her character is debatable but I do think it’s present at least in some amount.

In a similar way to dogs being important to Laios’ social life (I made something of an analysis on that if you're interested, but this one's not relevant to what I'm talking about in this post) books are her comfort zone. If she can compare a real situation to a story it brightens everything and, well, it does make her assume things wrongly often but it also makes her able to analyze people deeply, like the roleplay-theory-speculation about Chilchuck's wife and the way she hit bullseye on how Chilchuck felt in the aftermath. But like how Marcille only agreed to wear the frog suit when the party told her it'd look cute on her, or how thinking about riding on kelpies made her excited for what previously she saw as a tedious and dreadful journey. Special interest power blast.

And this is where comes in her coworker, a disillusioned embittered man.

A guy who knows all about how messed up the world & people can be and isn't afraid to say it how it is, who in every sphere of life has field experience rather than fictional one- with romance, work, and having dreams & ambitions. Someone flawed and real, someone who won't let her interpret him however she wants without confronting her about it & challenging her to change her perspective.

It took a looot for Marcille to fully stop seeing him as a kid, and in a way I think it was necessary for the dissonance to be both this hard to reconcile and this impossible to ignore: that he truly is a middle-aged man down to his demeanor and family background but that he looks like a teen at most to her. That she literally has to look beyond aesthetics to be able to first fathom then accept and internalize that he's an adult despite his looks. That it was so ingrained and took so long, so much that even while she recognized and said "He's usually the most mature one of us", so much that even as it's implied that she knew logically he's an adult before the changelings, as pictured earlier she still couldn't conceive it. It's like with her calling Laios and Falin's parents kids in a post-canon extra, it's not that she doesn't know it's that it's hard to wrap her head around. Necessary and important because, if Chilchuck was any less loud about being a man she could have gone on unchallenged in her assumptions. If it was an easier to dismantle misconception, something easier to digest, then her arc of coming to see him as he is would have had less impact on her character, afterwards she could continue to run with her own interpretations of people like Falin and Namari without her confidence in being able to pin down people into simple roles being so fundamentally shaken. And it's notable too, that Namari's choice to leave the party to look out for herself situation was decidedly unheroic, but it was Chilchuck who spoke to Marcille about why her decision was both reasonable and had a lot of thought behind it, making her accept that it doesn't make Namari a bad person or even a bad coworker or friend.

Chilchuck is someone who knows that sometimes, bad things happen for no reason, and it's not meaningful or part of a grand narrative, it just sucks and you have to deal with it.

As the foil to her very emotional black and white interpretations of things, Chilchuck represents nuance, and he's impossible for her to ignore.

Prince Charming vs Chilchuck Tims

Chilchuck is so obviously not a prince charming. He doesn't have the looks, the attitude nor the lifestyle. Does he have the virtues for it? Well, no... But also, yes. More on that in a bit. It's also interesting to think of the status aspect to it, because being from an impoverished oppressed class/community is so central to Chilchuck's character, something usually far removed from prince charmings and white knights, and not only status wise but on the topic of virtues... It’s an interesting thread to explore, the way one may have the means to remain chivalrous rather than becoming distrustful and embittered: sometimes optimism is a sign of privilege, being able to be or remain optimistic through life. I'm sure Marcille would be the first to jump onto the aesthetic and narrative allure of a pauper in love with a princess, of a hero of the people à la Robin Hood, but it's still interesting to think of that as another facet of the contrast Chilchuck makes. Alright, tangent done.

But obviously, despite this all they have a great work dynamic and respect for each other's capabilities. It's not like Marcille is mean to people who don't fit these fairytale high standards, no that’s only when she feels wronged or if there's injustice, rather she becomes dismissive of people’s complexity, wether they become an angel like Falin or Marcille’s shapeshifter of Chilchuck or a villain like Namari and Toshiro or Laios when they met. But my point, my point: she actually thinks very highly of him!

"He’s usually the most mature one of us" "He’s dependable, we’re counting on him" "No, chilchuck is definitely virtuous."

And I think the ways in which that shows are very interesting.

^ Ok so this happens, in the Namari chapter I keep talking about. Look at his expression in this last panel. He's always teasing her, but doesn't this here feels a bit... Suggestive? Like he's implying things, not just talking about it in a work setting but also giving her general life advice. Maybe even making an innuendo for womanizers, gentlemen who flirt without meaning a thing and have some hidden agenda. Warning her about smooth talkers that seem too good to be true. It’s honestly a very easy to overlook but defining interaction for them. It’s a quote that’s on his Adventurer’s Bible plus his anime quote keychain merch!

I love his implication that "I say what I’m about straight up, money, so you can trust me"- and isn’t that just the exact thing… Because that is what this is, he’s pitting himself against these people who help without asking for anything and he's saying he’s more trustworthy and reliable than them, driving a wedge between him and those people to prop himself up by comparison. His words tie a lot here into his general worldview too, of course here he's ✨Imparting His Wisdom✨, but it also ties into his self-image issues I'd say, where he’s hard on himself and calls himself a coward etc: if no one has positive expectations for you on an interpersonal level, then you can’t disappoint them. It only goes up from here if you start at rock bottom, can't have unpleasant surprises.

But the meaningfulness of this moment doesn't start and end there: That moment happened in chapter 20, but then this happens in chapters 36-37...

I was always puzzled by the split second interaction between Marcille and Kabru. Marcille blushing is the point, it’s in the anime too and it’s the focus of the panel. That moment of hesitation before she goes back into business mode where she looks at him back, and blushes. And idk I always felt like it was weird timing, like it was a weird beat Kui chose to put emphasis on, why the story even had them make eye contact in the first place, what point it could be making besides "Kabru is handsome and charismatic" which was already made with Hien and Benichidori below, otherwise it's not even like Marcille and Kabru ever interact. Like, maybe it's for it to be a callback when she glances at him while the canaries interrogate her at Thistle's house? Regardless, she blushes, but her expression is more akin to a "Uuhh he smiled at me why’d he smile at me like that. Oh he’s kinda pretty. Well anyways-" rather than swooning or truly checking him out. She’s frowning, even. And like I said, being very naturally charming was a point already made previously.

But then… This repeated reminder that Kabru is a lady killer IS the point, Marcille reacting to him in that way IS the point. Kabru is the epitome of ‘will say they help you but has hidden motives and might betray your trust if it serves their interest’ (not a diss on him tbf he has understandable goals), he is the epitome of looking noble, welcoming and chivalrous but actually being dishonest and manipulative, and what’s important here is… Marcille turns away and sticks by Chilchuck. Of course this is logical, no one would expect her to go running to Kabru lol, but I implore you to think of the thematics of it all, a princely guy, the closest character of the cast in the flesh embodying the prince charming persona, is giving her some positive attention, and it does affect her a bit but nonetheless she turns away, and strategizes with Chilchuck instead of trusting or giving good faith or getting carried away. She chooses Chilchuck. Unlike so often, she doesn’t let aesthetics sway her here, get in the way of her better judgement, distract her from the point. She chooses not to give good faith, even if he seems charming and friendly and smiles. Marcille is serious when the situation requires it that's now new, but this is in line with the lesson he instilled earlier above. And if nothing else, Marcille has a good memory, exhibit B to come later. Here we see part of why Chilchuck was afraid of Laios or Senshi but not Marcille blurting out the wrong things with Toshiro and is party, when push comes to shove they're often on the same wavelength. Marcille and Chikchuck do strategize with specifically each other regularly, they do tend to pair up a lot after all, so this isn’t especially new, but it’s the first time there’s this sense of us vs them imo. Like how earlier Chilchuck was saying that he’s better than the smooth talker type, here we see Marcille implicitly agree.

She just has a passing glance & thought for Kabru but she knows her true allies and true values, and she wants to strategize with Chilchuck. What I am saying is that if she was given the choice to think through going with a guy that seems perfect and chivalrous like her succubus, if she was logical about it she’d pick Chilchuck over that guy actually, yeah. At the end of the day, no matter the pretty smiles, she knows who her actual friends are. Whiiich on that topic, next section!

Ideals vs desires vs wants

It's succubus analysis time

Her succubus is quite direcly a prince figure, a knight on a white horse who's come to whisk her away. He calls her princess, even! She's taken the role of Daltian Clan's protagonist, essentially. He kisses her hand, nothing short of the most classic courtly romance tropes.

I made a whole analysis on specifically Laios’ succubus but it covers some stuff that could be interesting for this analysis as well, I’ll repeat the essential stuff tho: Their succubus all show what type of social connection they desire. Izutsumi’s is familial, Marcille wants someone she can emotionally connect with, seemingly romantic, Chilchuck wants something physical and sexual so he doesn’t have to think and worry about anything deeper (betrayal, insecurities, etc, the difficulting that come with a committed romantic relationship- also likely related to his senses & stress), and Laios wants people and friends who’ll accept him and his monster interest- platonic.

But more interesting for this analysis is how succubi work. The goal isn’t to beckon, but to incapacitate. The succubus doesn't work on the basis of rationality, it’s not a factor they go for and it’s not one they need to appeal to either, as we see. (Laios is a special case -gestures to the linked analysis- but the succubus doesn’t appeal to his rationality as much as it soothes his worries, his friends judging him etc etc, and the reason Izutsumi could remain unaffected is that there is always a half of her not enthralled by the succubus because she essentially has two souls.) Neither Marcille, Chilchuck or Izutsumi could realistically expect any of the people they saw to be real and not fake succubis. They KNOW that, they were actively preparing for the succubi to jump on them and fight back, rationally they know they're monsters! But how this monster works is that it targets deep desires within you that when face to face with it'll make you hesitate, make something in you unable to fight or flight and instead do the third instinctive option: freeze. Or especially in Laios’ case, the form gives the victim just enough confliction on the matter for them to want to believe it’s real. All they have to do is just not move, stay passive and accept the attention, so it’s not an issue of wether they reciprocate an action or run away. It's so that it shortcircuits you and leaves you open to pick like a fruit.

If this wasn’t the "reads your heart so deeply that it freezes you to the spot" monster, Chilchuck WOULDN’T be doing anything with these women. He’s been devoted to his wife even 4 years after separation on bad terms, you think he’d ever cheat on her? If this was a decision he were to make, instead of just freezing, he would reject it. In that similar way, Marcille’s succubus might not be what she’d rationally go for. You think if this was what Marcille had to choose, the person she wants most to see and at her side, her most alluring form wouldn't be Falin, alive and well? You think that wouldn't be the thing Laios truly wants most as well? And before people say that canon proved that the latter wasn't with the curse the winged lion put on him, THAT'S THE POINT!!!! You can irrationally desire things, you can desire things to degrees so deep you can’t change it even if you wish you could, but if it was truly a choice up to you, you'd choose otherwise. Laios decided to become king, even if that's a lifestyle so far from what he truly wanted, even if it is duty more than fun for him. Like how Chilchuck would choose faithfulness despite for sure having come into contact with many beauties through his four years of separation.

Ideals vs reality are a big Dunmeshi theme in general, same as wants vs needs, and you can see Marcille’s daydreams and novel themes make it an especially relevant throughline and theme for her. Not unlike how in my opinion General Hareus and Mithrun intentionally look very alike to contrast reality vs fantasy!

Marcille never reacts any particular way to Mithrun’s appearance despite the blatant resemblance, so that makes me think the point/joke is meta rather than character focused. The romanticization of elves and their societal drama in their fiction contrasting heavily with a very real and imperfect product of their military system. The canaries certainly aren’t glamorous next to whatever military Hareus is the general of. There’s even the fun little details like Hagreus’ lips being drawn with extra details because they’re full and pretty while Mithrun’s lips are drawn with extra details because they’re chapped and dehydrated.

So yes, themes of what you actually want vs irrational cravings. Base desires vs actual wants. Needs are also separate, but not relevant for this discussion. To get to the specific definitions I’m using for the words in this section’s header, ideals vs wants vs desires: ideals are your ideal of something, the best degree to which a thing could be tailored to you, and it can be derived from both wants and desires, usually a mix of the two, but for example: I’d say the succubus is a type of ideal (the platonic ideal of allure to the victim) derived solely from desires, because a want is active rather than passive, acted upon rather than suffered, because a want unlike a desire involves thinking things through. So a want: something you want, you take actions towards getting or achieving it, it can be a very strong feeling but it’s something you pursue or wish to pursue. Finding a cure to death is a want, not wanting to be alone is a desire, see, I’m assigning desire this more primal or unchanging subconscious nature to it. On the flipside with Chilchuck, sex without ties, easy pleasure, is a desire, but the want is not having to think about his marriage situation because it’s painful, not wanting an emorional connection because it’s all the easier to be hurt with, just wanting to take his mind off of everything for a while.

Thus the succubus targets Marcille’s wish for a perfect knight who could cherish her forevermore, someone safe and known and fantastical, just hers in a way, free to see and construct however she wants because he’s a character to interpret, and it targets Chilchuck’s wish for pleasure that’ll whisk him away from the stress and pressure and reality of his life, something that’ll make him feel both good and desirable and emotionally uncompromised, not unlike what alcohol does, as he says he likes having his fine senses dulled in the changeling chapter. Idealization is twisting the image of something in your mind to be closer to what you want, but usually mostly desire on a more subconscious level, to be true, almost a wish, sometimes but not always hand in hand with idolization which is to put something on a pedestral. Idealizing things that are easier to reconcile with mostly, in Marcille’s case: it’s easier to believe that Chilchuck is very young and it’s easier to stomach that Falin hasn’t aged much, it's easier to believe Falin is an angel who can do no wrong and if she left with Laios it's not that she chose to leave Marcille, and it's easier to believe Chilchuck is just a moody closed off youngster than an embittered old man. It can be done to people as much as concepts, like the idea/plan to give everyone a 1000 years lifespan, surely that'd do really well and everyone would love it. Wants and desires are both very often about changing reality after all, wether it be your situation or an event in your past or a law of the world like death, but wants are mostly through actions and since desires are more subconscious it can lead to self-delusion easily. Like with succubi, wants engage with your rationality so they target desires instead. The demon's strategy isn't too ar off, either, feeding into both and using underlying desires to manipulate its victims. Dungeon Meshi is in part yes about resisting desires, the irrational cravings, mostly through the character of the demon. I mentioned needs earlier, and to ideals vs wants we also add vs needs, both emotional and physical, and needs alongside wants are what Dungeon Meshi wishes to promote for a healthier person, Dungeon Meshi which illustrates very well with the dungeon lords that you can be a slave to your desires.

The parallel between succubi and demons is intentional. The demon is in fact the origin of the succubus myth in-world. No wonder they operate similarly in many ways- the succubi are in a way a more simple straightforward version of the demon, with less convoluted strategies and less intricate manipulation.

Of course the succubus each character sees does say something about their characters, but what I’m saying is we shouldn’t assign choice or morality to it as if it wasn’t an ethereal monster whose whole biology is focused on being able to freeze people through appealing to desires, much like how we can’t fault people for falling for demons’ manipulations. Like that’s their WHOLE thing and they use mind control through enticement shenanigans. I know people sometimes fault Chil for his succubi and if you want here’s my stance.

Point of this whole thing is, people can rationally choose things that are different from their deeper desires, like in truth Falin’s safety being more important to Laios than becoming a monster. Like how Marcille stayed with Chilchuck to strategize instead of wanting to give good faith to Kabru. Yes, this is the main point I'm coming at with this section lol. Marcille idealizes and idolizes the figure of a perfect prince charming, undoubtedly! But when it comes to what she actually wants, not in some ideal fantay world but in reality, she knows Chilchuck and her imperfect friends are some of the best she could ask for. She's content with them as they are. She would choose a flawed reality over a perfect fantasy.

That's a big part of what her dungeon lord arc is about too, all her tendencies to ignore what others want for what she thinks is best for them or thinks is a perfect course of action: accepting that people are complex with different wants, and that something that's a no-brainer to her like wanting to live for a long long time is a solid no for many. And Laios and the party confront her about it, and Marcille, even under the influence of a demon, chooses to accept reality. Chooses to accept that there are some things that, even were she to be able to, she shouldn’t change after all (even for stuff that’s not forcing everyone to live for a millenium, like bringing Falin back from the dead is something that the party and Marcille had to come to terms with maybe not working and the way they went about it was self-centered). She chooses to come back to herself and the party, to accept the world as it is even if flawed and sometimes hurtful.

And hm, I wonder if Chilchuck had any role in the lead up to that particular decision... I wonder if Chilchuck was a major influence in teaching Marcille that the world isn't perfect and her internalizing things that were outside of her bubble!! I wonder if Chilchuck was directly what made Macille turn towards her party and thus start thinking of giving up on being dungeon lord!! Joking, joking, of course it does. To be continued, see you in the princess imagery section at the end of this essay.

Essentially, this section is to show that: 1) despite what her succubus may suggest, she has indeed grown by that point in the manga compared to pre-canon and her overly idealistic simple black and white vision of things, and it doesn't prove the ‘choosing her friends over a prince thing’ wrong, and 2) despite how deeply ingrained romanticism is in her and how it calls out to her, she still has chosen and continues to choose reality and her friends over it. How fantasy is important to her and how much she loves it, and her having the will not to mindlessly succumb to it coexist and it's that resistance against fantastical ideals that speaks of her as a character so much.

And what does that mean, for Chilchuck? For him and Marcille?

Deconstructing realistic romance AKA compromising between romanticism and reality AKA Chilchuck Tims vs Prince Charming part 2

So what we’ve covered so far is that 1: idealization is something that Marcille does a lot, including concerning Chilchuck, 2: the prince/knight figure is meaningful & important to her, 3: Marcille isn’t a lost cause on it, and for instance, much like how she stops harping on Namari after Chilchuck explains to her how professional reputations and networking work, he can change her mind on things.

Let’s get back to their prejudices of each other for a bit. You might have to zoom in for this one.

Her shapeshifters of both Chil and Laios are influenced a lot by looks and impressions. She’s very adamant about Laios and Falin not looking alike at all, for one. Marcille’s view of Chilchuck’s lockpicks are surprisingly accurate. Meanwhile, despite their first big relationship moment during canon being about how he’s glad to have her and her skills for the dungeon dive, he still ridiculizes her magic somewhat with the crude spellbook. She’s still silly and tease-worthy to him, even while he praises her like in the good medicine chapter with Leed he says it himself in the same breath. Silly, or "ridiculous" depending on the translation, is somewhat ambiguous, but I assign it the meaning of 'thoughtlessly reckless', like how again in the good medicine chapter when he's saying this he's referring to Marcille's future job prospects, because law and career are important to conform to for him. Despite this, their shapeshifters’ behaviors are accurate, although Marcille’s Chilchuck is nicer and less bitterly reclusive. Note how it's Marcille's chilchuck that makes it furthest and how why she thinks hers is the true one is that her Chilchuck "looks less mean"- this is what I mean when I say she idealizes him and sees him as a little angel, along with his fluffier hair it gives us the perspective of why she'd find him so hair-ruffable and why she likes sticking to him so much, I suppose.

Marcille's arc of not seeing Chilchuck for what he is has steps, it's not like Senshi who does an 180 seeing his changeling. There are a couple of important moments for it that tell us her progress and changes her perspective: Him telling his age -> the shapeshifters (our best look into an objective assessment of her perspective) -> reveal that he has a wife and kid(s) (fully shattering her denial) -> seeing him as a changeling (true reckoning. Putting the nail in the coffin of what reality is) -> bicorn chapter (acceptance. Internalization)

You might notice that the explanation for Marcille’s Chilchuck is "Even though she’s been told he’s an adult, deep in her heart she still doesn’t get it", and a fantranslation translates it as "Understands he’s supposed to be an adult, but hasn’t quite come to grips with the fact internally". This definitely implies her arc of growing to see him as an adult had already started by then. Especially if we compare it to Senshi’s more intense babyfied Chilchuck. This goes back to what I was saying about Marcille watering down people for the sake of aesthetics, some rational part of her knows he’s an adult, but it’s emotionally that she struggles to reconcile the fact with her perspective. It’s actually pretty ambiguous when she first starts considering he might be an adult. If by this point she was already digesting it, then I think it must’ve been when he told the party his age. It’s not unsimilar to rationally knowing Falin is an adult at 23 even if it doesn’t feel like it to her, or post-canon calling the Touden parents kids even though obviously she’d know they aren’t actually, it’s classic longlived race patronization. He’s older than Falin, by 6 whole years, and even Marcille isn’t that blind to what that'd mean. Wouldn't marcille also have a problem with child labor otherwise? There's also how Marcille pre-canon shortly speculated Chilchuck was in love with Namari in her Adventurer's Bible extra. She for sure has witnessed a lot of half-foots walking around, probably even drinking at taverns. She knows, on some level. Chilchuck even does a whole rant after they react going on "this is why long lived races are condescending assholes". So that’s my bet, "Is he an adult?" "Well yes but actually no" (Chilchuck), "I’m an adult now I’ve grown" "Awww you’ll always be like a kid to me!" (Falin) Depending on the dub and interpretation, I know for example that when I made my family watch the anime they thought Marcille "See? You're just a kid!" after he said he was 29 they saw it as teasing and playful, unserious, or even disappointed, implying she'd have thought he was older than 29. It's actually ironic how someone as developmentally atypical as Marcille, whose physical and mental growth was unpredictable, unsynchronized and messy, would judge others by appearance and age so much. But well imo appearances are important to her so in that way, she especially judges those because she had to live through being judged by those standards as well. She puts elven standards on everyone the same way she does with beauty standards, so age is included in that.

Marcille here is struggling with dissonance, it's why she "hasn't come to grips with the fact internally". And this all makes sense for the arc that sharing things about himself is what opened the gates of being understood better. Point is, her vision is influenced by her own feelings of how things should be like, veiling herself to the reality of things.

And notice the point that the problem her lack of rationale when it comes people- Chilchuck regularly makes her prioritize rationality over feelings, and well that’s somewhat his whole schtick when it comes to debating philosophy. With Namari and how her leaving the party and not returning is reasonable even if it feels wrong, just like the "don’t trust someone just because they seem well-meaning and generous, strategize instead of swooning", and ironically also the "it's important to take in mind how things like touch when healing can affect parties and create love triangles" lol, "don't be emotional, and also remember people being emotional will stirr up shit". Since she’s someone pretty swayed by feelings, it balances her out. Ultimately, if we consider the Dungeon Lord arc her culmination, it’s Chilchuck who ends her arc by meeting her halfway through appealing out to her feelings, but that’s the flipside of the coin of their arc, and it’s her willpower to face reality that saves them so I don’t think that contradicts that Marcille had to do her half of the journey & comprise.

I would argue there are many hints of Marcille knowing on some level he's an adult throughout early canon. Not just seriously calling him the most mature of the group, but her behavior at the Golden Kingdom's too for example. Would you act all shy asking a kid to sleep in his bed, especially one she's always felt so comfortable trampling the boundaries of and touching casually? Idk that's weird. She's asking to sleep in his bed because by her own admition it'd make her feel more comfortable. Chilchuck is safe to her and she feels shy implying it and asking for a favor like that. Shy that he'd find her silly for it, and/or shy that this might be inappropriate according to etiquette and in other contexts. To me this feels much closer to two peers, like how in the mandrake chapter she wanted validation from him too, and yes she still infantilizes him and emasculates him into someone who's harmless in her mind- not just someone who wouldn't hurt or take advantage of her, because she knows that, because Chilchuck does protect her (more on that later!!).

He's not heroic, but he's brave, when it matters. He's mean and rude, but also caring. He's responsible, even when it means going the unpleasant route. The aesthetic doesn’t fit the role, but the actions do.

He keeps claiming he’s a selfish coward who’ll be the first to dip in a fight, and yet he’s always, consistently pulling her out of danger, or specifically calling out to Marcille when danger strikes. And I think it’s because of the nugget of info we get in the adventurer’s bible that her stamina and athletics are bad, in canon he does call her clumsyhead like once but it never felt enough for me to deduce that on its own personally. So then the reason why he’s always targeting her, beyond the reasoning that she’s the healer thus the most important to keep alive (which he brings up in the rabbits chapter), he takes it upon himself to help her, save her and pull her away from danger because she’s clumsy. She’s not defenseless, she’s known to use explosions, and still he feels the need to save her and through the manga he’s even died trying to pull her to safety one and a half times: dungeon rabbits + the drowning- they didn’t die in the latter though it’d have gone that way if it weren’t for the water bursting out just after, and that situation was especially hopeless regarding Chikchuck being able to do anything to save her at all, yet he still tried.

A little knight in shining armor, a little noble hero, a little prince charming innit?

Chilchuck IS all show and no talk- and she knows the value of that!!! It's why despite all his sour demeanor she respects him both professionally and as a smart guy she can trust, why she feels safe with him and wants him by her side when strategizing or even sleeping. The aesthetic doesn’t fit the role, but the actions do. Fantasy vs reality!!! He teaches her how to face reality both with his words and actions, through the contradictions of him, his caring behavior and bitter words, his old manners and young looks!

And actually let's TALK about that drowning scene hello. There, in the collage above, in the bottom left. The context of that is: This is after the demon leaves when the dungeon collapses, the dungeon gets flooded by water and they go under, with no sense of where or how there could be an exit to this. 1: Since the dungeon is collapsing and reviving someone only works in dungeons, there is no guarantee that Marcille or anyone would be able to revive someone during or after this, NONE. 2: He is risking his life for her, he is STRAIGHT UP playing his life on this choice, action hits and shit gets more serious than it ever has, and he yet does it anyways. Perhaps it's the gravity of it that pushes him to make this choice, that this time if someone dies it's for real and he can't accept that, but either way his choice is made in a split second, he prefers dying trying to save her than living without saving her. He is fighting for scraps of hope, seconds more of holding onto life. Which, 3: This situation is HOPELESS. In the end yes they end up being spat out by some exit out the dungeon with the strenght of the flood, but there was no way to know this would happen, and like we see in the third panel Chilchuck and the others actually lose consciousness. That's for "a way out of this", but even moreso, what is he hoping to accomplish? He's small and weak like he always reminded the party in fights, he CANNOT PULL HER UP TO SAFETY, HE CANNOT PULL HER AT ALL, WE SEE HIM STRUGGLE TO AND FAIL. HE CAN'T DO ANYTHING BUT HE STILL TRIES DESPITE THE RISK. You might also say- haha!! You might also say that this is a show of optimism from him!! You could say that after Marcille changed him, pushed him to have more hope in him, he now has the strenght and will to hope that this might do anything, that this might save her! A little similar to the situation with his wife actually, the point is that the chance is worth taking even if it might not turn out like hoped for- the point is that it's always worth trying and keeping hope to fight on, there is risk in being vulnerable and reaching out to his wife yes, there is risk, as with jobs, as with finances, as with anything- It's not that you'll never fail, but you have to not give up when you do- there's a risk but you can't just shut yourself off to the world and to relationships, you can't suddenly care about nothing! That's Chilchuck's arc! And maybe it's because his arc of becoming more hopeful and open yourself to caring centers her that it's her he latches onto here and not Senshi and Izutsumi who are equally in trouble here, maybe it's because he knew her longest or because he still feels this sense he has to look out for her like always, or because he trusts her to breathe underwater least, I don't know, but it's what happens! And listen, by all intent and purposes it was a hopeless situation, they were on the verge of drowning but he still fights to save her, and everything looks lost for a sec, but then the water current miracurously spits them out of the crumbling dungeon. He gets up and he runs to marcille fearing she's hurt but no, they're saved, she's fine, they're all alive and out of danger. It worked out. Having hope was right.

They make me ill I tell you. Like what the HELL, am I supposed to NOT go crazy when this happens??! What if they were the meaning of life what if their arc was about cracking the balance of living and loving healthily and cracking the code of life. Okay. Okay okay okay so anyways so

He can be quite self-sacrificial and noble! Always looking out for others, and giving Marcille particular attention in that regard, likely in part due to her being clumsy in his eyes and her being the healer aka their token of safety.

Sit your ass back DOWN you are in no state sir. Despite her biases Marcille is still observant, she still loves dissecting people like in that pre-canon party relationships chart in her extra, she's still the one to say "Chilchuck is the most mature here". Marcille still notices things! She has an interest in people and Chilchuck is someone she especially likes to "study". She read him like a book in the bicorn chapter, and if she was able to it’s that she looked, she remembered, she saw. The way he doesn’t like waiting on people, that he’s very reserved with feelings, the way he often doesn't pick up on others' and even his own- It all comes through in her quote unquote analysis of him, what married life with him would be like and how he reacted to his wife leaving.

Point is, Chilchuck is very harsh on himself, but there are gems inside of him, there is gold hidden away if you dig at his heart. And besides, isn’t humility a mark of heroes?

Okay. Sooo there's not that much to say about the changeling scene actually, for both Senshi and Marcille, the chapter just previous where Chilchuck reveals he has a wife and kid is what fully reckons them with how Chilchuck is a fully fledged adult, and for both of them seeing Chilchuck as a tallman is the final nail in the coffin. With Senshi it's a rather fast 180, and he mourns the sweet kid image he had of him where he poked his cheek and ruffled his hair, but for Marcille it's just an extra "he's really really REALLY really not a kid. Really". It has a bit of a reversal of Marcille and Chilchuck's dynamic, since now he can manhandle her instead of her manhandling him. This is a rather pleasant experience for him from what we can tell, whereas Marcille is struggling to keep the party's walking pace and complains about the heat implying half-foots are more sensitive to temperatures, Chilchuck finds having his senses dulled relaxing, has no problem of the sort Marcille is having AND! And! He can pull her around. The fight with gargoyles happen and he's pulling her arms, picking her up, he even throws her both before it and during the fight, he has the physical power to push her away if he wants to and also to pull her out of danger- the way he later tries to in the rabbit chapters and with drowning, but also when the Faligon reveal happens. He still doesn't look like a knight in shining armor, and he still doesn't have the demeanor of one, but he has the most power to protect her than he ever has. Anyways so yes, further "oh Chilchuck is an adult. And he's kinda knightly and can protect me wow. And also ugly not at all like elven beauty ewwwwww. I won't be able to unsee it now if I try to ruffle his hair after this".

It’s always a question of seeing more facets to someone and slowly digesting them and internalizing them, like Kui puts it herself in the shapeshifter explanation for Marcille's Chilchuck. And this illustrates a bit what I was saying in the section about Dalclan and tropes and people being "digestible" to her. She has to get used to the idea first and it's a slow process.

And during the succubus chapter as well, right after the bicorn chapter where she fully accepted Chilchuck as an adult, Marcille doesn’t falter when she’s confronted with seeing Chilchuck as, for a lack of a better term, a sexual being. She even cracks a (albeit sfw) playful quip about it, about them being all blondes. I suppose with the crass jokes he made like during the frog comic that might have prepped her for it lol.

And on that topic... We're here guys. The holy grail of Marcille and Chilchuck.

🔥The bicorn chapter🔥

The chapter finishes both Marcille and Chilchuck's arcs about harmful idealization vs not being a doomer, so to speak. It's the culmination, the ultimate balance found, the moment where the lesson gets fully internalized on both sides at the same time. It is a MASTERCLASS in how to do relationships arcs and character studies.

Chilchuck starts the chapter being dismissive of Marcille and her interests again, it opens with a narrated bit about his bad experiences with romance in past parties and he admits he has contempt for people who find the topic of love fun. He sees her still a bit as both a fly circling around him and a venus fly trap waiting for the opportunity to pounce on him and not let go until he spills everything. He ends it though, willingly giving up information on him in conversation with her, opening up, and appreciating her perspective on his romantic troubles.

Marcille starts the chapter having mostly processed that he's an adult, asking him about his wife, but she's still Weird about him and his personal life- and okay, that doesn't quite change, but something does change- everything changes for a moment, in fact.

And what's the catalyst? The cataclysm, even? Chilchuck lies and says he cheated on his wife.

[Okay guys I am officially out of pic space, sorry but I'll have to start recurringly linking to images instead: page]

We get to see live Marcille's esteem for Chilchuck plummet and freefall to the ground. And Chilchuck often acts like hassling and teasing between them is onesided, that she's always the one harassing him, but since early manga Chilchuck has always liked to tease her every opportunity he gets, often initiating interaction just for it... During half of this chapter Marcille is giving him the cold shoulder and we get to see that he misses her, we get to see her fully shut down the (racist) joke he throws at her and see him be SHAKEN over it. He wasn't expecting his lie to tank his reputation and relationship with the party members this much, maybe because before whenever he called himself selfish and cowardly no one seemed to think less of him for it, and he's at a loss for what to do like we see here. He misses their friendship. He's always said he didn't care for having a friendship with them all and whatnot, but here we see him grapple of the aftermath, of knowing what it would be like without them as friends, without them at all.

[page 1, page 2.]

And like with his wife, he has a choice to make. Be passive and spiteful and do nothing, or be vulnerable and communicate to win them back over. And this time, after a manga's length of learning little by little to be more open (and literal coercive torture) he chooses to do it, to try and clear up the misunderstanding.

And listen, on Marcille's end this was NEEDED. He DROPS in her eyes to deserving no respect- but even in these times we see her be jealous of Chilchuck opening up to Senshi, implicitly still caring about what he thinks of her, and most importantly that she does still care about him himself when the bicorn breaks his arm and she runs to his side to heal him, worried. Why was this needed? Because Marcille was forced to have her full, complete vision of Chilchuck shattered. Not only is Chilchuck not little in her eyes anymore, but he's also no angel. He can MASSIVELY- borderline unforgivably- mess up. He is an adult who can royally fuck up, even be immoral. She calls him a depraved adult man.

It sounds negative, but what this does is actually strip him from any idealization and infantilization in her eyes. Is there something more adult than adultery? Is there something less honorable, less wholesome? In this chapter Marcille is forced to reconcile the Chilchuck she knows with this man who did something vile to his wife, even the mother of his child.

And then Chilchuck clears things up, he takes the risk of an argument and actual rejection and sacrifices the secrecy around his family situation to make up with her. And it works. Instantly.

And so he goes "Okay so one day she left me and I have no idea why, probably for no reason. The end. What a petty thing to do am I right. We'll probably never talk again." and she's like "Bet? Actually I have several ideas as to what could have happened and you WILL listen."

(For a Chil & Chilwife analysis go over here instead btw.)

She was always perceptive, but she always had a bias that made her vision of others flawed. Her lens of novel worlds and narratives. Remove, or at least shift that bias in a productive direction, and you get a strength rather than an hindrance. The skill of self-inserting (literally. The half-foot depicted as his wife is even literally Marcille a a half-foot, and his child looks just like him, to show just how good her imagination is lmaoo) Marcille is such the "If I wanna hit the ball… I must become the ball" type. As proven by how she controlled her familiars in the hypogriff chapter. "If I were your wife I’d be overjoyed to go out with you and would get myself prettied up while you complain about me taking a long time, your friends would tell me that I’m cute and nice and that’d make me happy, but I’d also be sad because you wouldn’t tell me that you love me enough. Then I'd leave to test your love, and you're failing that test rn but if you came back to me even after a long time I'd take you back for sure." And see these! See Chilchuck frowning there in how she thinks of him, how he gets peeved when she takes time to get ready.

No because, this means everything. Marcille started out the manga thinking he was just a kid with a party pooper attitude and even in the shapeshifter chapter where she’s more coming to terms with her having been wrong about him, her shapeshifter of him is sweet and cute and nicer like "No the REAL Chilchuck is much less nasty! ☺️". But in the bicorn chapter it all comes to a head!! Learning that "Chilchuck cheated on his wife" made her esteem of him tank to rock bottom almost, finally acknowledging that Chilchuck can both make adult mistakes and be significantly flawed. But then! The chapter ends by him opening up which in turn make her esteem of him comes back up, but things have changed, still. What she does with her "virtuous husband" bit might seem like idealization again, and she is being optimistic about the wife'smotives, but she’s not making him into something he’s not! She recognizes his flaws (embraces them even.) Like how as the wife she thinks of an angry/frowning chilchuck, how he complains about waiting on her, which he's also done to Marcille before...

Even the way she says "he wouldn't say that he loves me enough" IS DIRECTLY SOMETHING FROM HER OWN EXPERIENCE FROM THE MANDRAKE CHAPTER. Because then she wanted to hear from his mouth with his words that he does value her, that he does appreciate her, that she's not a burden to them! She knows how it can feel like he doesn't appreciate you even when he does, and how insecure it can make someone! Now when she flavors things, she takes the embellishments from her own experiences instead of from novels! Reality, too, can be romanticized without becoming pure fantasy. Fantasy doesn't have to be dry and bitter, it can be beautiful and fun, too. Her "if I was your wife, life would be something like this and I'd feel like this" is truly based on her own perspective and feelings- her empathy and interest in others is not a weakness like Chilchuck thought, it's borderline a superpower.

She doesn't just keep his flaws in mind, she also hypes up his qualities!! He is virtuous, bicorn approved, devoted even after separation!! And that hyping up, and optimism that things wouldn’t necessarily go bad if he tried to mend things with his wife, really gave him hope, and also finished up his arc about optimism not always being bad, sometimes even being necessary.

She inspires him to think that things can work out, that he can still be pleasantly surprised even with all his bitterness. After all, he opened up to Marcille and they talked just now, and she forgave him and they made up, didn't they?

And he must have never quite let go of all hope, must stil lhave some left in him hidden somewhere, because in all those four years of separation never has he stopped calling her his wife in present tense, because even after all of them he has stayed faithful and never moved on.

And all of this with the chapter ending with Chilchuck eating a sweet and savory sandwich, which he thought would be bad and inspired disgust in him at first, and being like "Huh, the sweetness actually complements the bitterness pretty well."

THE SANDWICH IS THEM. "Syrup in a sandwich? Sweetness has nothing to do in a meal." IT'S OPTIMISM AND PESSIMISM COEXISTING. IT'S SWEETNESS AND BITTERNESS BOTH HAVING THEIR PLACE IN A DISH. IT'S MARCILLE AND CHILCHUCK COMING TOGETHER TO HAVE THE RIGHT BALANCE FOR HIM TO BE ABLE TO SAY "It might not go well like in stories, but I'll still try".

Remember what i said about compromises earlier, balance of optimism and pessimism? He tries it, and it works out despite having no faith that it’ll be good, and he’s pleasantly surprised. SURPRISES CAN BE PLEASANT! They're not just life-shattering, not just dangerous, it is possible to be pleasantly surprised! And this is why Kui is a goddess of telling stories through food.

He’s opening up to her, as he takes that last bite of the sandwich, he willingly and easily gives up an information about his family for the first time <3

She’s such a wingwoman. Such a cheerleader. Couple therapist. Emotional support friend. 10/10.

Marcille: "he has a shitty personality sometimes but if he was my husband I’d still cherish him" Chilchuck: "damn I needed that" /hj

So this neatly ties the last bits of Chilchuck's reluctance to care about others and being cared about in turn, yes yes Marcille reads him like a book so well that he's left shaking, and this is it, really, their arc is about the balance in loving too much and loving too little, in stifling others with that love and care and interest the way Marcille does vs showing it so little that others don't even know if he cares at all, à la “if we want the rewards of being loved, we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.”

Marcille has a whole theme with the prince charming trope, with her idealization and storybook motif and this is sort of the "Well someone perfect like that isn’t very realistic and romance is usually more complex- and that’s ok and good, and flawed people can still be ✨virtuous✨" conclusion. Again, fantasy doesn't have to be perfect to be worth it, to be valuable and lovable and great and precious.

He’s the devoted virtuous man that she wants not the storybook prince that’s unrealistic and could crumble like a script at any time. He’s the perfect example of a flawed realistic but virtuous and devoted and loving family man. Far, far from a prince charming, but not fully detached from it either. Something worth fighting for despite the flawed cracks.

Marcille has this grand fantasy, this ideal of prince charming, a chivalrous gentleman knight, but through canon especially with Chilchuck she learns to not idealize people so much. That acts are more important than aesthetics. The bicorn chapter is all about Chilchuck’s romance being realistic: flawed. And it’s no coincidence that this is what ties their interwoven arc closed, because they learn to compromise, his pessimism and her optimism. Marcille sees and recognizes a romance that is both flawed and beautiful and is able to balance the two decently, meanwhile she convinces Chilchuck that yes it is worth fighting for and having hope for. Repeating myself but it’s easy to think she’s still idealizing Chilchuck during the bicorn chapter, BUT it’s important to notice the differences with the shapeshifter chapter, where her shapeshifter of him was "cute/sweet" "not nasty", an angel who could do no wrong. In the bicorn chapter, not only does he fall from her esteem a lot because she believes he cheated for a good part of it, thus acknowledging that he can be flawed and adult enough to commit adultery, but also! When she roleplays as his wife, she doesn’t erase his flaws!! She knows he has a short fuse and isn’t always pleasant, but believes that he’s worth loving anyways… 

And see this is the point!! She romanticizes his life, not idealizes it. The difference may be subtle, but it's there. In romanticization there's how Ghibli depicts mundane scenes of daily life, portrays doing chores like cleaning clothes as something that feels good, something worth doing that doesn't have to be miserable. In Chilchuck's life, in his flawed relationship with his wife, she sees the beauty and light and love to highlight so even if the lifestyle is humble and even if the relationship is tense it seems nice, it seems worth fighting for. She's using aesthetics again, but to inspire instead of stifle, the way she uses them to hype herself up sometimes too.

This is it this is the thing! Her worshipping and idealizing the image of perfect prince charming that will whisk you away on an ethereal romance becomes her romanticizing a realistic flawed middle aged dad with personality issues and a failing marriage, that he still is worthy of love and having his cute grand romance story and his happy ending!!

Marcille has a very hard time conceptualizing a point where love can’t conquer all, right. She’s optimistic and if there’s a will there’s a way etc etc etc. Notably when Marcille speculated about Chil’s wife, she centered around the theory that his wife wanted to "test" him by leaving, that she didn’t feel loved and left to see if he’d chase after her. She believes that his wife would be ecstatic to see him again and reaching out would make them reconcile and happily get back together, no problem. Chilchuck and his wife have been separated for 4 years. When Falin left the academy she and Marcille were separated for 4 years. Marcille has to believe Chil’s wife is waiting for him, that she hasn’t moved on, that she wants to be found. There's a different perspective on time, but there's also... Just parallels. Parallels everywhere. Miss coping, meet coping in an opposite way! And so she teaches Chilchuck to not assume everything is lost before havign even tried, and so he teaches Marcille to let go when it's needed.

She specifically loves characters who think they can’t be loved and pessimistic and dramatic… And story-fying him is literally what she does when she engages with the story of his breakup with his wife like it’s a story to decode, reinforcing the whole narrative about tropes and princes and how he comes to shape her view on them.

Even if the context here is explicitly that she relates! Which, she finds being able to relate to them comforting and a positive point so it being a "type" thing isn’t fully off- but this is what I mean when I say she always keeps a film of emotional distance from people, she wants to love and be loved and know people on the deepest level possible so bad but it’s something that scares her too so she prefers to chase after the safe: the unreachable- the fictional. Like Chilchuck. Bit of tangential speculation, but she wants to crack his shell and make him open up- but it’s also easier because he pulls away instead of pulling in/closer so the relationship is fully in her control in that way, if it weren’t for the teasing… Making her into someone silly in his mind is how he keeps himself from putting weight into her words, how he gets himself to automatically dismiss the wise lessons she tries to instill to him, nope sir he doesn't have anything left to learn, he's an old crouton who understands everything there is to know about this cruel cruel life yes sir. Because trying and being rejected hurts! Because if it wasn't fated to turn out wrong, then it means there was luck or choice, and that makes failures almost more painful! But people leave!! People leave and people come back and new meetings happen and choices are good, choices shouldn't be taken away! Not like how Marcille tries to forcefeed immortality to humanity, as a dungeon lord...

The chapter ends with a panel of Marcille and Chilchuck bantering again, with everyone else going about their business seeming nonplussed while the two are being very loud as if to say, ah, classic them. Return to normalcy, return to their usual closeness and shenanigans. All is well.

The Princess imagery

And now we’re falling into the rabbithole. Imagery doesn’t have to be anything more than imagery, but I discuss romantic connotations in this section (amongst the platonic reality of things ofc), you can skip to the conclusion if you’d rather but you will miss important analysis of the dungeon lord balcony scene, a big piece of the puzzle in wrapping it all up. I found the meaning of life & the world in marchil but it’s ok I get it if you wouldn’t... We're all built different ig. The character with princely chilvalrous knight parallels in the manga is moreso Laios, but Laios too breaks the trope a lot. Chilchuck gets prince and knight parallels but by contrast instead, in subtext more than any explicitly drawn. There's a lot to Marcille's princess imagery and though I've never fully covered it I try to somewhat tackle it here.

For as much as the bicorn chapter is what ends their arc about balancing pessimism and optimism and finding healthy compromises, the arc of their RELATIONSHIP is in the dungeon lord chapter where he fully opens up to her, inviting her to meet his family and all. AND MY GOD, the princess imagery!!

Listen I am trying so hard to keep this unromantic, and to be clear subtext is subtext for a reason, it doesn’t have to be concreticized or "acted upon" perse, but… I think it’s there in this scene, at least a bit. I’ve spent a long time trying to pin down what was so charged in it, besides both of them blushing, despite him offering for her to meet his family, despite it calling out to a genuine deep instilled desire in her heart enough for it to work- for it to make her turn towards them, despite the first thing she does after is shower him in romantic gifts, and it eventually struck me… It’s the parallels with other media, with tropes!! This is HIGHKEY Romeo and Juliet type shit!!! The stuff you see in every couple new kinda trashy romance kids movies! A lady, stashed away in a high tower by her lonesome, waiting for someone to call out to her from below… Romeo courting type shit with a heartfelt spiel implicit confession from underneath her balcony, offering him flowers because he succeeded in calling out to her heart…….. And they have to CLIMB to her.

Remember her succubus' words? "Oh, princess... I can't believe you slipped away from the castle yet again... Honestly, what in the world shall we do with you...? Come, let us return." Again like with her succubus, she’s living through a storybook trope but with Chilchuck’s twist, more nuanced and realistic yet just as meaningful, even if it isn’t strictly OR at all romantic and if it’s more complicated and less glamorous. She’d have to peel the layers to get to the vulnerable truth of it, like anything else. I'm just gonna drop this here...

Doesn’t it sound like a proposal. One that’s both so storybook-like, and contrasted with such real yet unromantic and grounded words, all about the implications rather than in your face grand gestures "Don’t you want to meet my family?". They literally have an arc about the topic of romance and this is the climax/pinnacle of it like god?? I’m not saying this was all intentionally crafted to be romantic but it nonetheless exists in the subtext, ripe for analysis. Of course they talk about planning together his reconciliation wit hhis wife, but the same thing happens regardless, he fully lets her into his life.

And again there’s something to be said about how that is what makes her finally turn around! This is extremely meaningful not only to Chil but to Marcille, the enticing thing that finally hooks her, gets her to finally look down at them. An offer to meet a flawed man’s flawed family, to help him mend it and its issues. It isn’t through the filter of a book, or mere gossip to her, she knows this man and she wants to be involved in his life, to know him and his family herself, ready to meet them and form connections. The clumsy, imperfect reality of a friend telling her he’ll let her into the other spheres of his life even if that means she witnesses the embarrassing and the ugly. It’s vulnerability on both their ends, offered and received, a gambit that was worth taking, both in the moment to talk Marcille out of being dunlord and long term of letting her in to see the deeper sides of him, there are take backsies once someone knows something about you after all. SHE STOPS BEING A DUNGEON LORD IN GOOD PART BECAUSE HE TOLD HER HE'D LET HER INTO HIS LIFE. SAY IT WITH ME, A FLAWED REALITY IS WORTH IT MORE THAN STAYING IN FANTASY!!!! In denial of reality, both that Falin hasn't grown older, that everything can turn out perfectly, and that everything is lost and there's nothing Chilchuck can do to make his wife love him again or even make his party listen to him.

Chilchuck says this after he sees her materialize her parents as doppelgangers. And so he goes on to say- hey your family will never go back to how it was when you were young, my family will never be what it once was either, but we can both move on and make the best of what we have anyways, isn’t that what you taught me, there are more out there! I’m opening up myself to new relationships and friendships because of your pushes, and now I want you to do the same! Life goes on and there’s always more joy and connections to be had! Stop isolating yourself, dammit!

And the thing too with Marcille’s arc is that she can’t get what she wants. She can’t. She can’t get everyone to live forever if she doesn’t take others’ free will away, if she doesn’t make the world stop for her as she plays god with the laws of nature and the cycle of life. And everyone’s important to that arc obviously, Falin during the story is the main object of that fear, and it’s moreso her death that pushes her arc along but it’s still extremely influential, Laios is the main one who sees her insecurities and talks her down, Senshi’s always harping on ecosystems and laws of nature and how resurrections aren’t natural and is there to offer comfort and support, Izutsumi’s someone new Marcille gets to take care of and her farewell talk with her reveals a lot about how she’s grown, but seeing this it’s easy to see why Chilchuck is paired off so much with her on their respective arcs, right? The one who tells it harshly how it is even when the reality is unpleasant, who gives up quickly when it's about things turning good for him but who always pushes and fights on when it matters with the party, who challenges a rose tinted glasses perspective head on.

He looks nothing like a knight but he still acts like one. He’s nothing like a prince or a dashing romantic courting lover but still he gives her a novel worthy balcony heart to heart scene. He’s painfully real and raw but she does bring that twinkle of hope and romantization that makes the world feel more wonderful to him, but like she tells him, he’s virtuous and he should give things a shot because people see good in him too and not only the bad he always shittalks himself for, she’s not making it up, he always had that sparkle of knight and prince in him.

Like, giving someone a handkerchief is literally a romance trope associated with nobles and princes. And Chilchuck has offered Marcille his handkerchief at least twice! The second time in the cockatrice chapter as a bandage. He keeps it in his pouch, with his tools, like the most must-have to offer it Marcille at any moment, ha /j. Prince behavior <3 The cowl like a knight’s favour, a token from a loved one he cherishes above all and keeps on himself at all times. Story tropes shit.

He IS a prince figure instead that now it’s not about idealizing the grand and overt it’s about romanticizing the small things in real life!! About finding joy and beauty in things that seem normal or mundane and uplifting them to make the world feel kinder!!!!

And man this whole angle makes the "Don’t you want to meet my family?" "-gasp- I really do want to! -turns away from eldritch power and living in her demon-made dreamscape that can allow her to live in fantasy to instead go back to flawed reality with her friends-" all that more meaningful and striking. A fitting end to her arc, a fitting hook to get her to turn back towards her and tempt her to give up on being dungeon lord. It’s always been just asking things and anecdotes about him and his family, never talking about meeting them, but by having someone so "fated with doomed love" open up and reach out to her "fated to never love", she opens up too, is willing to take the risk that any relationship entails, the same one that he took by offering it, the same risk they’re both averse to and scared of, loss and rejection. By actually meeting his family she involves herself in the stories she creates. It makes them real. She’s finally involving herself intimately with others, despite the real threat of loss that she will have to experience, wether through time and death or rejection.

Marcille and Chil’s arc, man…….. See, this is why I’ve been tilling the fields of that analysis for months this is why I’m insane about them, not only is there so much to say but her relationship with Chil straight up deconstructs her perspective on the world as idealized and influenced by fiction and fantasy and optimism. Like, he’s at the core of that part of her arc and man!! Man.

And the way that this is the culmination of their arc together… Like the ‘Chil calling out to dunlord Marcille on the balcony has Romeo and Juliette romance novels imagery’ take is one thing but the ‘their arc is about growing to see beauty even in the non-idealized, in the flawed and in the real’... It makes it so so perfect if she were to lower her ideal from a perfect elven prince to a virtuous halfling man (which she does romanticize).

So she doesn’t want a prince, she doesn’t want a general, she just wants this guy she knows, this friend she trusts as reliable, who has good intentions even if wrapped in unpleasant demeanor, that’s all she needs to be content and well and feel safe. By the end, he might even have become something of a prince charming to her, won over with heroic acts and virtues.

After all- Remember when I said she wouldn't be able to be as touchy so lightheartedly as before with him? Well wrong, apparently! This parallel from chapter 23 just before the red dragon fight vs chapter 96 at the final feast confirms that her like of him and behavior with him was unconditional of him being a kid or an adult. Marcille is just Like That and that she just likes him. A good part of what reads as infantilization truly is just how she cares for people in general.

Conclusion

She’s afraid of change, so it's only fair that he would be perfect to teach her a thing or two. She had fantasies but he had experiences, both had bias.

Their arc says that love is a beautiful thing regardless of loss. Something both of them needed to remember. Life isn't like a novel. Sometimes an ending ISN'T satisfying, you don't get closure and it might not even be happy, but that doesn't mean nothing can end well, doesn't mean every farewell is bitter. Peace is worth both fighting for and making for yourself. You can't shut yourself off from the world because things sometimes hurt, there's more of life to live- won't you come meet my family? Won't you meet new people, won't I try to mend relationships that are dear to me? My family is flawed, but it's still worth meeting, still worth loving, still worth fighting for and keeping even with all its flaws, no? Elven storybooks don't feature half-foots, but they're worth spinning grand poetic and romantic tales for all the same. Life is bittersweet, and that's an acquired taste to have, but one good to be able to stomach as a whole.

There’s a lot of reasons why someone would love fictional characters but be afraid of love in reality, not unlike with Laios' and Chilchuck's own experiences love has a layer of danger and fear because it can hurt to love and it can hurt to be loved. People can leave you, and in Marcille that fear's mainly through death but for Chilchuck that’s through just… Leaving. Through giving Chilchuck optimism and hope, drive to keep going despite these realities, she’s also growing to be more comfortable with the thought of relationships ending and moving forward regardless. And I do think that was part of her arc of growing to accept that Falin might be dead dead, I think Chilchuck was a big part in that. Falin is the passive object of the arc but Chilchuck is the active actor pushing it along, in a way.

Because people can always leave, Falin will leave to travel the world, but she might come back- and that's okay. And that’s exactly the thing that the story wants Marcille to make peace with! Falin wants and needs to leave and Marcille needs to be content just taking what she can get, wether it be time with people or the boundaries they set with her. THE BOUNDARIES! THE BALANCING OF OPTIMISM AND PESSIMISM! IT'S CHILCHUCK'S DOING!! "The world isn’t all good, but you should be able to see the bright side of what you do get" is what she and Chilchuck learn. To learn that she can still enjoy when she is there, and still reach out to her and keep in touch through letters- to do what you can and to get what you can and to accept that as enough, for it to bring you the joy and peace it can. Don't push your expectations onto others, wether that's being overly intimate or overly judgemental, don't be too pushy but also don't be too afraid and not do anything at all.

In many ways even before, even on the regular Marcille was his gateway into being more lighthearted, always exchanging playful jabs, laughing at her. Teasing her because she teases him, lowering himself to her level until he looks back and realizes he’s having fun with it instead of just throwing jabs bc he’s the master of sarcasm TM.

Chilchuck smiling casually and softly, genuinely, when saying that things don’t work out sometimes, is just so powerful. From the man who always assumed the worst of everything, who always spoke of life and the world bitterly... By the end, while saying these things he’s smiling openly rather than smirking smugly. Carrying on with his go getter attitude with a touch more optimism in his heart. Now he's made his peace with life and sees the good in it, still.

It's all about... How flawed relationships with flawed people can still be made into somehing good and healthy that make the world brighter… How flawed relationships are still worth remembering and cherishing. Except the winged lion, there to represent abusive relationships you need to fucking DITCH.

Marcille and Chilchuck’s arc is about how in life sometimes books do close and end, but other ones can open and start, and to never give up on that. People’s lives, relationships, these things are temporary and inevitably end, but there’s meaning and joy in having been there for them, and focusing on the end and the pain and being pessimistic in it doesn’t keep anyone safe, not meaningfully. "It’s not all nice like in the stories. Sometimes, a book just ends." "And another opens."

Dungeon meshi promotes the important of balance for both a healthy body and a healthy mind, and optimism vs pessimism is one such case <3

MAYBE IT'S ALL COMPROMISES MAYBE IT'S ALL SWEET INBETWEENS. Maybe we'll take our vision of what we thought we could be and make something new together! DRINK IN MODERATION!!!!!! SEE LIFE LIKE FAIRYTALES IN MODERATION!!!!!!! THE RIGHT ATTITUDE LIES BETWEEN IDEALIZATION AND PESSIMISM

Disclaimer:

This was pretty messy but thank you so much for reading!!

To be clear! Does this arc exist in the text, the whole tropes and idealism vs pessimism thing, do they have tangible impact on each other as both characters and narrative devices? Yes. Is Marcille and Chilchuck the central piece of the story? No. Is Dungeon Meshi about this and how it all culminated into a cool Romeo and Juliette scene? Lol no. Chilchuck isn't the most important person to Marcille and her story nor is Marcille the one most important to Chilchuck. Just like the other major characters in the story, their dynamic and progressing relationship is a plotline/subplot amongst others, and the level of layers and subtext it possibly has doesn't erase any other part or subtext of the story. Arcs can coexist. Multi-layered relationships can coexist. Just a reminder that this is my own analysis and interpretation of canon.

Dungeon Meshi is about food and how it ties us to a life that’s worth living, about unity and trying to understand that which you do not, to not demonize that which is different or unknown, to connect with others even if it’s hard, even if it’s in unusual or undescribable unlabelable ways, and Marcille and Chilchuck’s relationship is certainly a pawn in these themes like every other relationship.

I’m having fun, but I don’t want anyone getting lost in the sauce. It's unfortunate that to many, acknowledging there's any merit to analyzing this subtext is equal to supporting a ship they dislike, but this isn't ship propaganda, this is analysis of canon text where I happen to see a more niche angle. You can disagree with an interpretation without saying that it's nonsensical.

Like I don’t wanna say I’m a marchil truther but if you define it as believing canon does have genuine and credible basis for it then yeah I guess I am. I feel insane everyone acts like they have no chemistry and no material and??? We exist on different planets I think Like I know I implied some romantic undertone but in canon it totally can start and end at two coworkers bonding and getting to know each other better and see each other’s perspective and it influencing them both for the better. No buts, you can totally do that. Although this plus the crumbs it drives me up a wall when people say they have no chemistry or ‘how come people see anything in this pairing?’ They’re literally a comedic duo? A comedic duo that interacts so so much that gets paired off in scenes, a thematic duo which is even acknowledged and reflected in the anime’s opening. He teases her 24/7 canonically because he finds her reactions fun/cute, the only person he teases on the regular, and she’s obsessed with knowing more about him and loves being touchy on top of it, plus reads him like a book because she files away every little thing about him in her memory, like if that isn’t a strong basis for a ship I think the bar has gone too high. I’m derailing but yeah just. Do you see all of this? They drive me insane, I feel like I’m reading the necronomicon when analyzing them, picking up on subliminal messages, I keep always seeing new threads. And it’s been my otp for like 2 years now, idk when they’ll stop having a grip on me but????? There’s just so much to dig into with them. There will never be another pair like them. Do you hear me there’ll never be another duo that hits all of these like this, do you see this insanity? They are my lifeblood and if i’m eating up anything them-related it’s because they’ve earned it so hard tbh. So yeah if I’m ever dramatic about marchil it’s because I have this 100k words novel narrative in my head and marchil is the meaning of life to me hope this clears it up

Which on that note idk what or when my next Marcille & Chilchuck analysis will be. I might very well make a bite sized, summarized version of this analysis because asking people to read all of this is kind of insane of me... And full disclosure I’m also very likely to edit points in or tweak bits every so often in this analysis because idk if I’ll ever stop thinking about it, and phrasing can improved. This has been in my drafts and outlined more than a year and I’m literally still adding extra points save me. I might also do a different angle on their arc because here yeah I mostly just dug at the prince trope angle, at ONE of many angles... Like one interesting thread in the manga is Marcille emotionally maturing and becoming more like her mother, on top of her regularly being a mom type friend the way she looks after Izutsumi and Falin, which could be interesting to pair with the fatherhood of Chil. Hmm. Anyways

And obviously do whatever you want, but this analysis and all is why I personally can’t stand the fanon that Chilchuck and Marcille have a father-daughter undertone. It goes against their arc together, which is explicitly, literally about her acknowledging him as a man, an adult, about coming to see each other truly as peers and her coming to validate him as an adult, then a father and husband from an outside perspective and a friend, and inversely him coming to not belittle her profession and philosophy. Their whole arc is about learning to see each other as an equal and equally value each other’s perspective and opinion. You could argue it’s also the arc that happens with Izutsumi, but honestly with her it’s a lot about Izutsumi learning to compromise and others instilling lessons to her onesidedly while learning to respect her perspective and boundaries, it’s not nearly as much of a reciprocal thing. Izutsumi needs to be heard, but she also needs people teaching her and guiding her. Imo it cheapens the arc, the whole point is that they’re just two people who grow to see each other as equals, that the Laios party is coworkers turned friends. Marcille doesn't need a new parental figure, she needs friends who'll keep her in check the same way she does them.

I do love the way that the manga avoids romance. For every romantic undertone there’s a platonic explanation that is just as compelling and especially to this degree it’s both rare and wonderful. I think that a lot of people need to learn that sometimes ambiguity is the point instead of something that needs to have a specific objective answer. Sometimes the intent is for something to be able to be read in different ways in itself, or that the complexity of the relationship is canonically something that cannot be put into a neat box. Which! Next analysis I'm very intent on making is gonna be about unlabeled relationships in Dunmeshi and queerness, see you there!

Fast and dirty TLDR

Marcille’s personality is very serious and direct. Due to this, she frequently gets into arguments with the master of sarcasm, Chilchuck. Chilchuck views Marcille as “the friend who cannot shut up”. He is often the practical foil to her more imaginative or idealistic views.

She actually thinks very highly of him! "He’s usually the most mature one of us" "he’s dependable, we’re counting on him" "No chilchuck is definitely virtuous", and at first it’s also through this twisted lense that he’s a kid, like she has to put people into boxes so they’re more digestible, tropes, in line with aesthetic, and at this stage it’s hard for her to see Chilchuck as being even able of wrongdoing really. And gradually that gets challenged when she sees that yeah, he’s an adult, and then BAM bicorn chapter- Because by then ok fine he’s an adult, but it hasn’t quite fully settled yet as we see in the shapeshifter chapter and she still has a warped view of him a bit, she has an accurate grasp on his behavior yet still sees him as a little angel. And then she "learns" he committed adultery. Her esteem for him hits rock bottom and she spends the chapter cold to him, she still cares and comes running when he’s hurt, but she’s set on mean mugging him, until it’s revealed that- He didn’t actually. Oh, actually he just has family angst. And she starts roleplaying and having her novel vision again BUT THIS TIME HER MIND VISION OF CHILCHUCK IS OVERTLY FLAWED. He’s angry and his wife left him, he’s *flawed*, but he’s still worth hyping up, still worth having his own romance story, still has a shot of winning back his beloved. She sees him for what he is, human and real and not a carefully scripted character that fits an aesthetic, and she thinks it’s still worthy of love and admiration, worth fighting for.

The prince charming figure has importance in Marcille and Chilchuck’s arc, where she romanticizes things to a sometimes worrying degree or idealize people into something more poetic, easy and digestible (like Chil being a kid, and then him being a virtuous ✨✨✨husband), and where she needs to learn to value aesthetics less and actual acts and facts more, be more grounded (like seeing people for what they are flaws and all, but seeing their virtues too, like accepting that people need money and not pulling through on principles of honor or unity shouldn’t get Namari shamed) and a part of that is accepting that Chilchuck is BOTH flawed and virtuous, a loving husband that still has shitty moods and fumbled his marriage so bad etc etc. So it’s like, her image of perfect prince charming that will whisk you away on an ethereal romance -> realistic flawed middle aged dad with personality issues and a failing marriage but who still is worthy of love and having his cute grand romance story and his happy ending.

Their arc together is literally learning to 1) see each other for how they are and not undermining their qualities and capacities etc etc while still not leaving flaws unchecked either and 2) opening up to people. Marcille LITERALLY makes Chil open his heart up to hope like idk man. What do you want from me. He’s literally the guy helping her through deconstructing novels and fantasy and rose tinted glasses and like. Deconstructing the prince charming figure into something more real but still a virtuous husband like KUI KUI STOOOOP STOP I’M ALREADY HOOKED I’M ALREADY-

[kayhi808]

Hai i’m happy to see that you’re back! i also hope life is treating you well and you are staying healthy! I was wondering if like there was a dress as your favorite person day at school and abby has reader help paint her arm to match buckeys and gets one of those fake beards or mustache thingies lol. but bucky doesn’t know so when he picks her up he’s surprised??? then they take a picture and it’s framed in the house somewhere. 🧹

Thank you, anon! I'm feeling much better than before. 💕 You want Abby dressed up as her Papa? You got it !

Abby comes walking into your room, "Mama, can I ask yous sumting?"

"Of course, baby! What's up?" Placing the last of you laundry away & sitting on your bed.

Rubbing her cheeks and chin, "How can I grow hairs on my face? Like Papa?"

"Excuse me?"

"Ya knows, he gets a furry face. I need that, too."

"Can I ask why you need a furry face?"

Abby lets out a big sigh and climbs up onto the bed, "Cos at scoon we have, dwess as your favorite people day, right? I needs to dwess like Papa."

You smile at her, "Why is Papa your favorite person?"

Abby counts the reasons off on her chubby fingers, "Cos he loves me so much. He so smart in his brain. He read me storybooks & teach me Wussian. He brave and fights the bad people to keep everybody safe. He has pwetty arm." She drops her hand on her lap, "So many tings." Then Abby reaches over to squish your face, "And he makes my Mama so happy and smiley."

Your smile grows, "Maybe I can help you by drawing in your scruff. Like your goatee at Halloween."

"Hanoween! Oh please, Mama!" Abby claps her hands. "And I need to cuts my hairs off. So it's short like Papa's."

"Oh! Umm." Not wanting to cut her hair. You enjoy making her pigtails and braids. Her ribbons and barrettes. "Let's think about that one. I can put it in a little bun so it looks short? And maybe give you some bangs so we can make it a lil spikey in the front like Bucky's?"

Abby looks skeptical. "Lemme tinks 'bout it."

"Ok, but if that's what you really want we can cut it." It's her hair, if she wants to cut it, we can do that.

Waving her arms, "Cans you paint my arm like Papa's?"

"Definitely! Or, we can ask Uncle Steve. He's really good."

"Oh yea!" Jumping up and down, "He's make it so pwetty!"

*******

Bucky came back early from his mission so you both make your way to Abby's pre-school to pick her up. "She's going to be so happy to see you!'

Walking up to the classroom door, Bucky looks inside expecting to easily pick out Abby, but all the kids are dressed up. "What's going on?"

He hears a familiar shriek and a black blur attaches itself to his leg, "Papa!!"

Bucky's frown quickly turns into a smile, "Wh...what is all this?" He squats down to take a better look at Abby.

She obliges by giving him a dainty little twirl, "I's you!" Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun. Just enough smudged 5 o'clock shadow. New bangs nicely spiked. And her gloved arm painted to match his.

"But why?"

"It dwess as your favorite peoples day." She gives little hops, "Yous my favorite, Papa! Comes look!" She takes his hand and leads him to the wall posted with all the children's drawings. She searches until she finds hers. "See?? I dids it!" It's a picture of Bucky & 3 things that makes him her favorite person. He can tell Ms. Grace helped her with the words.

1. He's smart & brave.

2. He has a pretty arm.

3. He makes me and my Mama very happy.

Bucky scoops her up in a big hug. "Now that was the best thing that happened to me all day. All week! Thank you, Abigail Rose."

She blushes under her scruff, "You melcome, Papa."

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hi! You've got an awesome blog here, I especially love having all the lessons linked in your pinned post. It makes browsing through it very easy! I have a handful of hairstyle questions about a Black OC of mine that I haven't been able to get answers to from general resources (you'll see why), if that falls within in your feedback scope?

So the character's name is Jaila, she's Black, transfemme & genderqueer, lives in New England, and she's in the zombie apocalypse. She and her former roommate, Cecil (who's White and a guy) are, as far as they know, the only people immune to the virus. They're wandering around looking for other survivors and running from zombies.

Jaila's hair is a bit of a pickle for me! She doesn't have access to her usual community to help her keep up with it (getting locs or braids redone, or help braiding), probably not many hair care products like oils/conditioner for a twist out, and only some access to running water. However, her appearance matters a lot to her, and especially her hair, because she learned to style femme hair as a late teen/adult and it was a big step in her transition. I'm thinking about braids for her, because they are relatively low-maintenance and a rest style. She has a bonnet and any appropriate combs. Other than lots of new growth and maybe uneven braids since she doesn't exactly have time to perfect each of them, what are some consequences of her lack of access to supplies? What might that look and feel like for her?

Also, is it okay if she talks about missing her more complex hair styles, and wishing she could do them again? (For example, a fancy twist out that she doesn't have time/product for, or extensions that would now pose a zombie-grabbing risk.) Or does that feel too much like saying some Black styles are "better" than others in a Euro-centric way?

Finally, do you have any pointers or things you'd like to see if/when she finally trusts Cecil enough to help with her hair? At the start of the apocalypse, he'll offer to help her with it (he used to help his various little sisters do their hair and doesn't really grasp that it's different yet; he's also madly in love with Jaila (it's reciprocal but still complicated)), but she'll reject him pretty soundly because he's literally just her weird roommate. But especially if she has braids, it's a lot of time to do them herself, and she gradually grows to trust Cecil very closely. Is it at all realistic that she would teach him how to help with her hair? Are there any details that for you as a Black reader would make a scene like that feel more real and embodied?

I'm sorry this ask is so long and I hope you're having a good day! Feel free to ignore any bits that aren't in your scope or that I've just missed a lesson on o7

So first: I know a Jaila! That's cool.

Answers:

1. So the thing is, braids are a protective style, but they don't last forever (especially if they're braids with extensions). So yeah she could leave it in the braids, but it's not just roots showing. After a while, the weight of the braids are just gonna start pulling on her new growth, (which she can't rebraid without taking the style down) which isn't as strong as the braids, and it'll thin. It'll also get dry, if she's got no access to oils or extra water.

2. Yes, that's fine. If your hair means a lot to your expression, and you lose the means to care for it, why wouldn't that upset you? That's not a Black or white thing. She can have preferred styles without being racist about the other ones.

3. It's not unrealistic, no. Especially in an apocalypse. Now I will say, I do think it's a bit wild to have a hair with extensions braiding or lots of small braids' lesson in the middle of an apocalypse, as that's gonna be real low priority and take resources like access to all the hair extensions, or water to make the style moisturized and neat. Braids don't have to be numerous; she could have a couple neat cornrows.

Me personally, I'd think something that'd be equally vulnerable and intimate would be having Cecil help Jaila learn to see her hair as beautiful as it is, with the resources that they have, without demeaning her mourning of her past styles. That should come after a lot of time spent together, with Jaila having shown and/or communicated how much her hair means to her.

Also, another thing: showing the honest frustration and mild indignity that you have to let a white person help you with your head 😅 like I would be a bit sick that I have to do that, especially when I value my hair so much. Things have become quite low. Being willing to show that this is hard for her, that he needs to show her gentleness and understanding, would be nice.

[parvulous-writings]

Could I request dating headcanons for Gortash, Raphael, and Geraldus with gn s/o please? - Fluff anon

Warnings: Vague mentions of manipulation, mentions of sex and petification. These are not healthy relationships (Apart from Geraldus, bless his little cotton socks)

Notes:  Is Raphael accurate? Probably not. Did I have fun writing his segment anyway? Hell yeah. Also let us all be proud of me that I basically wrote this in one sitting? Unheard of, for me. Fluff, forgive the fact that this was sat in my inbox for so long... I'm sorry 😭 I got distracted with some other, longer form pieces in the works! (3 pieces to be exact teehee) My requests are currently open! My request post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! 

Gortash

Ordinarily, when dating someone, you're in a partnership - an equal relationship, where neither one involved is better, or holds more control overall than the other. This is not the case with Lord Gortash. He will flaunt the fact that out of the two of you, he holds all the control, and he will do so constantly.

Gortash has had a lot of short-lived flings and trysts, so his style of love can feel strained as time goes on. The usual cycle is; Lots of love for a couple of weeks; gifts, intimacy, sweet words from him to you - and then, the cold shoulder, for another couple of weeks.

However, because of his wealth and influence, you are, naturally, spoiled in all that you do. Clothed in the finest materials that money can buy or import, given the finest foods anyone can afford, and of course, you have one of the finest and most prestigious roofs over your head for when you rest.

Most often, Gortash will make it seem to most like you are equals in your relationship; letting you choose what garments to wear, letting you choose dinner from time to time - but he doesn't let most see that silver tongue of his, slowly feeding little lies and delusions that keep you mostly under his thumb. The cycle of his 'love' also helps.

This isn't to say that Gortash is a bad partner, in other aspects, however. Sure, he manipulates you most of the time, but that's mostly to keep you near to him, to assure your loyalty. He does value your opinion on certain matters - and he's very affectionate when he's in that more loving mindset, especially when you have company. In the presence of others he tends to have a hand on you at all times, whether that be your shoulder, your arm or your thigh.

Raphael

Raphael is one of the most possessive partners, possibly ever. In regards to both you, and Haarlep. You rarely, if ever, get to leave the House of Hope, and when you do, you're never more than a few paces away from Raphael. He may not always be physically touching you, but if he's not in conversation, his eyes are firmly glued onto you, taking in the sight of you and making sure that you don't try anything to leave.

Although you're showered with some of the finest food and gifts that the hells can offer, Raphael makes it abundantly clear to you that you are little more than a pet to him. You sit on his lap or by his legs during meal times, you have a separate bed to sleep in when you're not having sex (unless you beg him for the privilege of sleeping beside him), and if you speak out of turn he chides you like one would a dog.

He shows you off like some prize, too. Praises your beauty and obedience to all who enter the halls of his home, but always making sure to reprimand them if their eyes linger anywhere on you for too long, a hand groping at your thigh to show precisely the dynamic between the two of you.

When you're obedient for him, life is wonderful. You're showered with the gifts that Raphael had promised you when this 'relationship' had begun, given anything you could ask for, all you need to do is look and pout. When you're not obedient - and it could be for the smallest thing - Raphael is... Less sweet. He's petty, vindictive, and he will let you know in the worst ways that he feels slighted by... Whatever it was that you did.

Geraldus

Geraldus is a nervous sweetheart, through and through. He's grown up with so many stories of valiant men who are just so sweet and honest and valiant, and he wants to live up to that standard. But how can he? Even though you're now together, he feels like he still fumbles over far too many of his words - surely you can't find his boyish nervousness cute anymore?

He likes taking you on picnics; he knows that typical dates take place in Taverns or Inns, but he likes the quaintness of a good picnic, it's like he's making your shared love life something right out of a fairytale, and he's all for that. It's not that he's opposed to drinking with you - wine and mead is a common staple of the basket you take with you - it's more the noise levels. He struggles to hear you if it's a particularly loud night in the tavern. He likes being able to hear you more than the atmosphere of the tavern.

He likes having his head in your lap. Or your head in his lap. His hand in your hair, or vice versa again. He thinks being physically close to you is just one of the best things he's ever experienced. Even as time goes on, and the two of you grow and change together, he still takes great joy and pleasure from that ever so simple act of just... Being close, and existing together.

He tries to learn so many new things for you; cooking, being the big main one. He likes to watch what you enjoy eating, then try and replicate it himself. He's not the best cook in Faerun, but he's definitely been improving, and taking any constructive criticism you have on board. Another way he tries to show his affection to you is through attempting (and often failing because you tell him 'no') to purchase you more material gifts. "That's what men do, no? ... No? Oh, alright then, beloved." He'll blush and stammer about it for a little bit, but he will put his coinpurse away. Being anything less than the man you want or deserve is an idea that terrifies him.

[pennyold]

teasing | r.c

Summary: Teasing your boyfriend during the dinner didn't end well... He wanted to have you ruined, begging for mercy.

Warnings: rough sex, dirty talk, suggestive content, choking, teasing, face slapping, spitting on the face, slight masochism (don't read it if you don't like it)

w.c: 1,6k

a/n: this is not a romantic shit, i just wanted a excuse to post again alr? So, I really wanted to write about this so bad, but I don't know if you guys are ready for my dirty mind ideas... so enjoy it, and I hope you like it!! And not proofreading, sorry for any grammatical mistakes!!

main masterlist ↲

peace and love, penny ★

All set, Rafe was waiting for me in the living room. I looked in the mirror and noticed the invisible straps connecting my panties to the black stockings. I turned around and went down the stairs. When I looked at Rafe, he smiled at me, hugged me, and kissed me on the cheek. "So precious, as always." He took my hand, leaving the house and walking towards the car. He opened the door for me, and as I sat down, my dress got caught. I looked at him, and he kept looking at me. "What a provocateur, darling." I smiled, and he slammed the door in my face.

During the trip, he wanted to put his hand on my thigh, but I didn't allow it; I just held his hand. "Let me," he said, "not now," I said, noticing how he was looking at me, smiling. "Please," I grabbed his jaw and kissed him. "Wait until we get home." He shook his head, looking at the road. "We could turn back." I shook my head, laughing. "No, we're going to have dinner and then home." I smiled at him, and Rafe focused on the road.

We were having dinner at Rafe's and my favorite restaurant, where we had some of our first dates when we met. Very cheesy, but it doesn't change the fact that he liked coming here frequently, and it had become my favorite place too.

"Do you like it?" he asked, pointing at my plate. I had ordered something different from the usual. I nodded, "It's very good, delicious," I said, smiling at him. I looked at his plate, and he had almost finished it. "You were very hungry, weren't you?" he nodded, wiping his mouth. "Yes." Besides, I want to go home, right? I slightly tilted my head, and he smiled, "I haven't stopped thinking about it." I knew what he was referring to, but I wanted to tease him a little. "What are you talking about?" I said, tempting him. "You know what I'm talking about." I shook my head, drinking from my glass. "Don't play with me," he said. I laughed, "I don't know what you're talking about." "About your..., you look beautiful," I nodded. "I know, you told me at the house." It seemed like I had thrown it back at him, and in a cruel way, but I just wanted to tease him. "I didn't mean to..." he raised his hand and asked the waiter for the bill. "We're leaving." I took the napkin from my lap and wiped myself.

"What's the rush?" he was drilling me with his gaze. I smiled at him and looked at the waiter when he stood next to the table. Rafe paid the bill, stood up almost knocking over the chair, and helped me get up. "I can do it myself," I challenged him. I was playing dirty, but I liked how he couldn't say a word. As we walked towards the car, I opened my door before he could. He didn't even look at me and returned to the driver's seat, started the car, and drove away.

I grabbed the doorknob. Rafe was driving at high speed, so I clenched my thighs and adjusted the seatbelt. "Rafe..." He didn't speak or look at me; he pressed the accelerator harder, and I could feel my body contracting against the seat. Finally, he slowed down, and we arrived home. When I unbuckled my seatbelt, Rafe opened the door and extended his hand for me to get out. I stayed in the seat fixing my lipstick and combing my hair, "Could you get out of the damn car?" I nodded, taking his hand, and walking to the house door, leaving him behind. I opened the house with my keys and left my bag in the dining room, and upon hearing the door slam and the front door lock, I knew I had crossed the line.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He spoke to me from behind, and I simply removed my heels and left them aside. "I don't know." I held back the smile and headed towards the kitchen. "Look at me," I ignored him, pouring myself a glass of water. When I turned around, he was right before me, with a serious expression. "You like to play dirty, don't you?" I remained serious and nodded. "And in public, what a slut." He grabbed my cheeks and jaw with one hand and tightened his grip, making me look at him. "This pretty girl wanted to tease me, ‘m I wrong?" I shook my head; he wasn’t wrong.

At this point, my panties were so wet, soaked. I couldn't even speak. I swallowed hard and squeezed my thighs, trying to lessen the throbbing of my clit. I let out a moan and opened my eyes wide; I messed up. Rafe smiled, "I know you're a dirty bitch who likes being called the whore that you are. Right, darling?” I nodded, holding my breath. I was going to moan again, but I held it back in my throat.

"This dirty bitch needs to be fixed, go to the room," he demanded, and I obeyed, walking barefoot, I picked up my heels and went upstairs.

I knew what was going to happen to me. Normally, I don't bother him like that; I just wanted to play a little this time. Now I had to serve my sentence.

Upon entering the room, I sat on the bed looking at the full-length mirror we had next to the bed and remembered the countless times I looked in the mirror and saw his reflection fucking me, which turned me on even more. I got startled when I heard the door slam again, and my skin prickled. Without looking at him, I looked in the mirror once more, then saw his reflection in it, "Are you reflecting on your actions?" I ignored him and tried to get out of bed, but he pulled me back down with a yank. "I didn't tell you to get up, so sit down.” I nodded and took the edge of my dress to pull it down, but he placed his hand over mine, pulling it away from the dress. "No... I want to see how you take it off."

I wore thick stockings and began to unfasten the straps that connected to my panties. I slowly took off the stockings, and when I lifted my leg a little, my folds parted, and I felt a familiar throb starting again. I bit my lip and continued with the other one, and when I finished, I remained motionless, waiting for him to speak. "The panties too.”

With my heart racing, I did it. I slowly took them off, leaving the fabric on the floor and closing my legs. "Are you wet?" he said, running his face along my neck, then licking it, leaving a wet sensation on it. I nodded, closing my eyes.

Then he slid the strap of the dress off my shoulder, kissing it. "Do you like it like this or rougher, huh?" I whined, squirming; Rafe grabbed my jaw, making me open my eyes and look at him through the mirror. "Are you going to keep that damn mouth shut all the time?" I was left breathless and then spoke: "Slut me out."

I should have thought of the other answer, but after all, I was enjoying it, damn it, of course i was.

He slapped me and then spat in my face. There was a puddle between my thighs, dripping my juices around his cock. "I'm crazy about you, so bad that I want to ruin you." He pushed his pelvis against my core, hitting my uterus. "Would you let me, darling?" I moaned, biting my lip. "Fuck... yeah" I barely manage to form a coherent word.

Rafe took my neck and squeezed it lightly, making me gasp."Squeeze harder," I said, breathless, and he did. He squeezed me but quickly let go, kissing my cheek. "You might be a little slut, but don't make me choke you again for pleasure," then he leaned closer to my ear, "Make me give that big ass of yours a slap, mmh." I turned around, rubbing my ass against his pelvis, brushing my folds against his still hard cock. "Do you want me to slap you while I fuck you? Is that what you want?" I nodded, looking at the pillows, then he thrust his cock into my pussy, stretching my walls once again.

I was a mess moaning, screaming into the pillow and squeezing his cock when he slapped my ass. I could feel my stomach tightening and my pussy contracting, "Shit, I'm going to cum" he slapped my ass hard and pushed my face sideways against the pillow "Whores like you aren't allowed to cum" I whimpered and squeezed his cock "Let me cum, please" he mocked my pathetic voice and fucked me faster "Beg for it" I grunted against the pillow without being able to utter a word, I was about to cum, I could feel my pussy getting hotter.

"Please, let me cum" he ran his hands down my spine to my waist, tightening his grip without stopping to thrust and pull out his cock. "Cum, cum on my cock, pretty" and I did, I reached my climax, covering Rafe's cock with my sticky cum "So sticky... wait until I cum" he kissed my cheek and caressed my cheekbone with his knuckles "I'm going to cum in this tight and lovely pussy. Ready for me and fill you up?"

[snowseasonmademe]

Good and Plenty

warning ‼️: lots of smut

word count: 5,554

pairing: aurelien x older black female reader

summary: the tensions are high all day and you and aurelien (almost) can’t make it home to finally get what you’ve been waiting for

note: happy valentine’s day freak-a-leaks!!!! here’s a very sexy valentine’s day fic for my fellow aurelien sister wives ;) everyone, let’s thank @whoevenisthiz ! she helped me with the scene after they get home and it really what kicked off the inspiration for the whole the fic. she’s so amazing. i’m posting this earlier than i planned because im really excited about it!!!!! i recommend y’all grab a snack and sit in a cold, dark room….alone. as always, i hope you enjoy and tell me what you think❤️‍🔥!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tension had been simmering all day, long before the intimate dinner, long before the teasing touches under the table. It started that morning—when you woke up to the slow, wet heat of Aurélien’s tongue between your legs, dragging you from your half asleep haze with the lazy, purposeful flicks of his mouth. He was buried beneath the covers, strong hands gripping your thighs apart as he feasted, groaning against your clit like he was tasting the sweetest thing he’d ever had.

You’d tried to push him away—mumbling something about needing more sleep—but he only chuckled, that deep, knowing sound vibrating against your sensitive skin. “Just let me take care of you” he murmured, lips brushing against your slick folds before he sucked your clit into his mouth, making you gasp.

He always wanted to take care of you. Always so eager to please, so willing to obey. Out of the bedroom and especially in it. And God, he was good at it. Even with all your experience, all the years you had on him, he still made you feel like you knew nothing when it came to pleasure. Like your body was something to be discovered, unraveled, and worshipped anew every time he touched you.

He didn’t stop until your fingers were tangled in his curls, until you were gasping his name, thighs shaking around his head as you came hard against his tongue. Only then did he finally emerge, lips wet, eyes dark with satisfaction. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue before pulling back to whisper against your lips, “Good morning baby.”

Then, as if nothing had happened, he got up to get ready for work, leaving you spent and panting in the sheets. You were still trying to catch your breath when he reappeared, straightening out his white compression shirt, looking every bit the composed, put-together man you knew he wasn’t when he was beneath you.

Before he left, he leaned down, brushing one last lingering kiss against your jaw. “I bought you something” he murmured, lips ghosting over your ear. “I want you to wear it tonight after dinner. It’s in the closet”

And just like that, he was gone. Leaving you hotter, hungrier, and more frustrated than when he had his mouth on you.

By the time dinner came, the anticipation was unbearable. The restaurant was your favorite—dimly lit, luxurious, filled with the kind of quiet intimacy that only made the tension between you more potent. Aurélien looked devastatingly good in his tailored suit, the fabric hugging his broad shoulders and strong arms, the open collar teasing just a glimpse of his smooth, warm skin.

But it was the way he looked at you that had you gripping your wine glass tighter. Like he wanted to devour you right there at the table.

“Staring is rude you know?” you murmured, dragging your tongue over your bottom lip just to tease him.

He exhaled sharply, adjusting in his seat. “Can’t help it ma belle” he admitted, his voice thick with restraint. His eyes dropped to the deep neckline of your dress, then back up to your lips. “You look too good”

You smirked, setting your glass down before leaning in, letting your fingers trace over the back of his hand. “You’re acting like you weren’t between my legs this morning” you whispered, watching his jaw tighten. “Like you didn’t make me cum on your tongue before you even ate breakfast”

Aurélien sucked in a slow breath, his fingers curling into fists on the table. “You trying to make me hard in this restaurant Y/n?” he muttered, voice low and rough.

You hummed, dragging your nails lightly up his arm. “I think you like when I tease you” you mused. “When I make you wait”

His gaze darkened, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “Do you want to leave right now?”

You smiled, tilting your head. “I want you to be patient” you corrected, trailing your fingers up to his wrist. “And then, when we get home, I want you to lose all of it”

His breath left him in a slow exhale, his grip tightening under the table. “Tu vas me donner une crise cardiaque un jour” (You're going to give me a heart attack one day)

You only laughed, taking another sip of wine.

You didn’t even make it through dessert before agreeing to leave. The second you stepped outside, Aurélien’s hand was on your lower back, guiding you toward the car with a possessive urgency that made your stomach flip.

The moment you slid into the passenger seat, restraint snapped like a frayed thread. Aurélien had barely even pulled off before you grabbed his jaw and kissed him—deep, hungry, desperate. He groaned into your mouth, his hands immediately roaming your body, gripping your waist, your thigh, your neck—anywhere he could reach. His lips were hot and urgent, trailing down your throat, nipping at your skin as his breathing turned ragged.

Your hand drifted between his legs, pressing against the thick, hard length straining beneath his slacks. He hissed, bucking slightly into your touch, his fingers tightening around your thigh.

“Fuck” he exhaled, forehead pressing against yours as he struggled to catch his breath. “You trying to make me crash before we even get home?”

You smirked, breathless, pressing one last slow, teasing kiss to his lips before pulling away. “Drive faster”

He obeyed.

The second you stepped through the door, his hands were on you again. You barely had time to drop your purse before his lips crashed against yours, hands greedy as they pulled you close. The heat between you was unbearable now, both of you gasping between frantic kisses as you stumbled back against the wall.

Your back hit the surface with a soft thud, but you barely noticed because Aurélien was already pressing into you—his hard, strong body molding against yours, the unmistakable heat of his arousal pressing against your stomach.

“I want you to fuck me hard” you murmured against his lips, voice thick with need. “Right here against the wall”

His breath hitched. His grip on you tightened, fingers digging into your hips, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“I’ll do whatever you want baby” he rasped.

And he meant it.

He grabbed your thigh and brought it to wrap around his hip as one of his hands slid into your drenched panties. “You’re so wet” he groaned, dragging his finger through your slick folds before teasing your clit in slow circles.

“Of course I am” you purred, arching into his touch, guiding his hand with yours to show him exactly how you liked it. “I’ve been thinking about you all fucking day”

His jaw clenched, and his free hand gripped your thigh, hiking it up against his waist. “Fuck” he breathed.

You laughed softly, teasing, threading your fingers through his curls and tugging. “Aurelien” you said in a serious tone. “I need you inside of me. Now”

His strength paired with his obedience, his need to dominate warring with his devotion to pleasing you—made your body burn.

His hands worked fast—pushing your dress up, sliding your panties down your thighs. His movements were eager but careful, like he was desperate to have you but still mindful of your comfort. He always was. Even in his most desperate moments, even when his body was shaking with restraint, his first instinct was to make sure you were taken care of.

But right now? Right now, you wanted him to lose control.

“Don’t hold back” you urged, grabbing his chin, making him look at you. “Show me how bad you want me Aurélien”

That was all it took.

Aurélien cursed under his breath, fumbling with his belt, shoving his slacks down just enough to free himself. The second his dick pressed against your entrance, he paused, his gaze locking onto yours, waiting—always waiting for your permission.

You pulled him closer, breath hot against his ear. “Do it”

And he did.

The stretch was exquisite, his size forcing your body to adjust, but it was exactly what you wanted—what you needed. A strangled groan left his lips as he sank in, forehead pressing against yours, his body trembling with the effort to control himself.

“Putain bébé” (Fuck baby) he choked out. “Je pourrais jouir maintenant” (I could cum right now)

You tilted your hips, urging him deeper, wrapping your leg tighter around him.

Aurélien gripped your hips and pulled back before slamming into you with a force that made your breath hitch. He set a brutal pace, fucking you against the wall just like you asked, the sound of your back hitting against the wall filled your ears and breathy moans filled the room.

He was lost in you, worshiping you with every thrust, every reverent kiss against your shoulder, every desperate moan muffled against your neck. His hands couldn’t stay still, roaming your body, nails digging into you, memorizing every curve, every dip, every shudder.

“Tell me what you need” he panted, lips brushing against your ear.

“You” you gasped, nails digging into his back, pulling him closer, deeper. “Just like this. Just—”

Your words cut off in a moan, back arching against the wall as Aurélien drove into you, hitting that perfect spot again and again—so precise, so ruthless, like he was made to fuck you just like this. His strokes were deep and demanding, dragging pleasure out of you with each roll of his hips, each desperate thrust that left you gasping. His fingers dug into your thighs and hips, holding you up effortlessly, his strength undeniable as he used it to wreck you in the best way. You could feel the tension coiling in your stomach, that telltale heat building, threatening to snap.

His grip tightened, knuckles white from how hard he was holding onto you, and his pace turned brutal—fast and deep, yet still so in tune with your body, like he knew exactly what you needed before you even had to ask. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the air, mixing with the frantic gasps, the sharp moans, the low, desperate groans spilling from his lips. He was unraveling, coming undone just as fast as you were, and the knowledge only pushed you closer to the edge.

“Cum for me” he begged, his voice breaking, thick with need. His forehead pressed against yours, eyes blown wide, dark and pleading. “Let me feel you bébé please—”

It was the way he said it, the raw desperation in his voice, the absolute worship laced in his words that finally shattered you. Your climax slammed into you like the way his dick was stroking your inner walls, stealing the air from your lungs, making your whole body tense as pleasure ripped through you. You cried out, nails raking down his back and arms, thighs trembling around his waist as he fucked you through it, determined to pull every last ounce of pleasure from you.

The way you clenched around him sent him spiraling right after you. His hips stuttered, a deep groan escaping his chest as he buried himself to the brim, his whole body shuddering with his release. You felt the warmth of him spill inside you, the way his muscles locked up, his grip on you tightening as if he needed to hold onto something—needed to hold onto you—to survive the intensity of it all.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just panting, tangled up in each other, his body still pressing you into the wall like he never wanted to let go. His breaths were ragged, hot against your neck, his heart pounding just as wildly as yours. Slowly, his grip softened, fingers tracing lazy circles against your skin, grounding himself in your warmth.

“Fuck” he murmured against your lips, voice wrecked, filled with nothing but awe.

And the way he said it—like he still couldn’t believe you were his—made you ache for him all over again.

Then, slowly, Aurélien pulled back, his fingers brushing through your hair, tucking a stray lock behind your ear. His eyes were dark with satisfaction, but there was still something softer—something almost tender—in the way he looked at you. The dominance he’d shown moments ago had been replaced with a hunger that felt a little different, but no less intense.

“You okay?” he murmured, kissing your forehead, his voice rough, thick with desire.

You smirked, taking his face in your hands, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw before dragging your nails down the sides. His pulse quickened beneath your touch. You tilted his face up to meet your gaze, locking eyes with him, and you could feel the shift between you—him, still catching his breath, and you, already craving more.

“I should be asking you that” you teased, voice low, dripping with satisfaction and hunger. “I did tell you to fuck me hard didn’t I?” Your tone was teasing but laced with a darkness that promised there was more to come.

His grin curled lazily, cocky, like he knew exactly how you felt and didn’t mind it one bit. But in his eyes, there was still that hint of boyish awe—like he couldn’t quite believe he was here with you, in this moment, with all of you. “I’ll do whatever you want” he reminded you, his voice rough as he pressed another slow, lingering kiss to your lips. “Whenever you want”

Your breath hitched at his words, but you didn’t let him get the upper hand yet. You hummed, dragging your nails lightly down his chest, savoring the way his breath caught, the way his muscles twitched under your touch. “Then I hope you’re not too tired” you purred, letting your fingers trail lower, teasing the waistband of his trousers before dragging them back up to his chest. “Because we’re not done yet”

His sharp inhale echoed in your ear, his hands tightening around you—too desperate to pull away, too eager to do exactly as you said.

Aurélien might have been the athlete, the one with stamina that went for miles, but you? You were the one who knew exactly how to use it.

The power was in your hands, and right now, it was your turn to make him bend to your will. You leaned up to kiss him again, slow and deep, your tongue tangling with his as you pulled him toward you, guiding him backward toward the stairs.You felt his cum dripping down your thighs and it made you so ready for the next round.

As you reached down, your fingers wrapped around him again, and you could feel it—the slick mess of both of you coating his dick, warm and sticky against your palm. You glanced down, smirking at the sight of it, the evidence of everything you’d just done still glistening on his skin. With a slow stroke, you spread it over him before tucking him back into his pants, smoothing the fabric over his length like you hadn’t just had him unraveling in your hands.

As you made your way up the stairs, you felt the pulse of anticipation building again—this time not from the tension of the moment, but from the sight awaiting you at the top of the stairs. Aurélien had planned something special. The soft glow of candles lit the path to the upstairs balcony, the space decorated beautifully with roses, fairy lights, and soft pillows arranged just so—an intimate, romantic scene that made your heart race in a different way.

You stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air brushing against your skin, but it didn’t matter. Everything else melted away as you took in the sight before you. The balcony was transformed—soft candlelight flickered around the space, illuminating a scattering of roses, delicate fairy lights twinkling overhead, and pillows arranged perfectly. It was beautiful, intimate, and undeniably romantic.

“Oh, what’s all this?” you asked, your voice filled with surprise, though you couldn’t hide the hint of excitement rising inside you.

Aurélien moved behind you, his body warm against your back, arms wrapping around your waist. He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, a satisfied smirk pulling at his lips. “I decorated before we left” he murmured, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “But we couldn’t really get to it because we were… busy” he finished, squeezing your side with a playful, possessive grip.

You smirked, spinning in his arms, eyes dark with desire. “You’ve been making me wet all night, and now you pull this shit on me?” you purred quietly, almost a whisper, hands running over the muscles in his chest as you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his lips. “It’s gonna be hard to wait any longer baby” you said, biting your bottom lip.

His eyes darkened at the tone of your voice, his grip tightening on you. “I’m gonna have to make you wait, but trust me, it will be worth it”

Before you could respond, Aurélien reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, holding it out toward you with an intensity that only made you burn hotter. “I have something for you” he whispered, voice thick with need.

You took the box, eyes glinting with curiosity. As you opened it, your breath caught in your throat. Inside was a stunning Tiger’s Eye Van Cleef bracelet, the deep golden hues reflecting the candlelight, beautiful in its simplicity and elegance. The piece was exquisite—just like him.

“It matches mine” he said, his voice proud and full of admiration as he stepped closer. “I knew you’d like it”

Your fingers brushed over the bracelet as you slipped it onto your wrist, eyes never leaving his. You could feel the intensity between you, like the space between your bodies was filled with pure electricity.

“Oh you knew huh?.....It’s perfect” you whispered, your voice a soft purr, eyes locked on his. “You always know exactly how to please me”. The words rolled off your tongue, full of intent, as you moved toward him again, pressing yourself against his chest.

Aurélien smirked, his hands trailing down your sides, fingers grazing over the curves of your body. “That’s my job baby” he replied, his voice dripping with desire.

Just when you thought he was about to pull you in for another kiss, he surprised you. He turned you again, pushing you gently toward the balcony railing so your back pressed flush against his chest once more. Your heart raced as you bent over it, the cool metal biting into your palms as you leaned forward, offering yourself to him completely. You gasped, feeling his growing arousal against you. His fingers slid down your back, tracing the curve of your spine before grasping your hips firmly, pulling you toward him. The heat between your legs was unbearable, and you could feel his hard dick pressing against you, demanding, urgent.

“You look so fucking sexy like this” he murmured, his voice thick with need, hands gripping your hips, holding you close. But you didn’t care about looking sexy—you cared about feeling him, having him, finally getting what you’d been desperate for all damn day.

“Aurélien” you whined, pressing your ass against his hard dick, rolling your hips against him.

His breath hitched, and his fingers dug into your skin as if he was barely holding himself back. “You need me that bad, baby?” he rasped, dragging his hands down your stomach, teasing the lace of your panties.

“Yes” you gasped, tilting your head back against his shoulder. “I want you to make me cum again—fuck me. Right here”

That did it. His restraint snapped. He quickly took off your shirt and skirt, his hands gripping your ass as he pressed you against the railing. “Bend over a little more for me” he ordered, voice rough, almost desperate.

You did as he said, gripping the cool metal as you arched your back, offering yourself to him completely. The night air brushed against your skin, making you shiver, but you didn’t care—because you felt him behind you, felt his fingers trailing down your spine, then yanking down the tiny lace he’d made you wear.

“So you liked the lingerie I set out for you this morning” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, his hands already gripping your waist like he couldn’t stand another second without you.

“Of course I did” you purred, tilting your head to brush your lips against his jaw. “I’ve been thinking about you fucking me in this all day.”

His dick twitched against you, his grip tightening. “Ouais?” (Yeah?) His voice was rough, dark with intent. “Laissez-moi vous donner ce que vous attendiez” (Let me give you what you've been waiting for)

You turned your head slightly, eyes dark with lust. “I want you to fuck me over the balcony so everyone knows how good you fuck me” you said, voice dripping with filth.

“Putain” he swore, his control completely shattered. His hand cracked against your ass, making you gasp, before he slid his fingers between your thighs, groaning when he felt how soaked you were. “Dripping for me” he murmured, rubbing your clit in slow, deliberate circles. “You need me that bad, huh?”

“Stop talking and fuck me” you demanded, rocking back against him.

He didn’t make you ask again. Lining himself up, he slammed into you in one deep thrust, stretching you open, making you gasp at the perfect, overwhelming fullness. He didn’t give you time to adjust—he started fucking you hard, deep, just like you needed, his grip bruising on your hips.

“Yes—fuck” you moaned, hands gripping the railing for support. “Fuck me Harder”

“You take this dick so fucking good” he groaned, pounding into you with everything he had. “So tight. So fucking wet for me.”

You gasped when he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back, making you arch even deeper for him. He landed a hard slap on your ass making you whine loudly. The mix of pain and pleasure had your legs shaking, had you completely at his mercy.

“Smack me again” you moaned.

He did—hard. The sting only made you wetter, made you clench around him.

“Again”

Another sharp slap.

“Now make me cum” you gasped, your voice almost breaking from how desperate you were.

He obeyed instantly, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast, tight circles, his thrusts turning brutal. “Cum for me” he rasped. “Let me have it”

Your orgasm hit like a fucking earthquake, your entire body tensing as pleasure exploded inside you, your walls clenching down on him, pulling a deep groan from his lips. He wasn’t far behind—you felt him twitch inside you before he cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, his grip on you unrelenting.

For a moment, all you could hear was your heavy breathing, the sound of the city below, and the lingering echoes of your moans in the night air. Aurélien’s hands traced slow, lazy patterns over your hips, his lips brushing over your shoulder, his breath still ragged.

Then, without a word, he turned you around, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. It wasn’t soft—it was all tongue, all heat, all the leftover desperation that neither of you could shake. His hands roamed your body, gripping, squeezing, pulling you closer like he still hadn’t had enough.

Slowly, he walked you into the loft, the soft carpet cushioning your feet as he guided you inside. The flickering candlelight cast shadows along the walls, and the night air from the open doors made your overheated skin tingle. When he reached the center of the room, he lowered you onto the plush floor, his hands firm but careful as he eased you down.

You looked up at him, chest rising and falling rapidly, watching as he sat back on his heels and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. His muscles flexed in the dim light, his skin still glistening from your last round on the balcony. Then, his hands moved lower shoving his pants and boxers down his thighs until he was completely bare above you, hard and ready again.

Your breath hitched when he leaned over you, flipping you onto your stomach with ease. His hands slid under your hips, lifting you slightly, arching your back so your ass was perfectly presented for him—your body pressing into the carpet, your legs spread just enough to feel the heat of him behind you.

“This” he murmured, trailing a slow hand down your spine. His touch left a trail of heat, every inch of your skin hyperaware of him. When he reached your ass, he squeezed—firm, possessive, sending a sharp pulse of desire straight to your core. “This is how I want you”

A shiver ran through you at his words, your body responding instantly. The anticipation was unbearable, pooling deep in your belly, making your thighs clench. His hands gripped your hips firmly before sliding lower, spreading you open with intent. The cool air against your heated skin sent another shiver down your spine, a slow, teasing pause that left you breathless.

Then, without warning, he slightly leaned down and let out his spit into your pussy. The sensation made your body jolt, a needy whimper slipping from your lips as he teased you, drawing out every ounce of anticipation. He groaned, savoring the way you trembled beneath him, before finally pressing the thick, leaking tip of his dick against your pussy.

With one deep, unhurried thrust, he filled you completely, stretching you open in a way that made your breath hitch, your mouth parting in a silent moan before it finally broke free.

“Fuck Aurélien” you gasped, voice trembling, your fingers digging into the plush carpet beneath you, desperate for something to hold onto. The overwhelming fullness, the slow, dragging way he pulled out only to press back in—it had you teetering on the edge of madness.

He groaned, a low, guttural sound that vibrated through his chest. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you steady as he began to move, each stroke deep and measured, savoring every second of being inside you. His breath was uneven, his restraint evident, but it didn’t last long. Soon, his rhythm shifted, his control slipping as his hips snapped against you, faster, harder, his dick slamming into that perfect spot that had your legs shaking beneath you.

Your body tensed, pleasure unraveling inside you at a pace you couldn’t keep up with. The way he stretched you, filled you so perfectly, sent wave after wave of ecstasy crashing into you. It was too much, too intense. Your limbs burned, the friction, the overwhelming sensation making it impossible to think straight. You whimpered, trying to crawl forward, your hands scrambling at the carpet as you attempted to escape the unbearable pleasure.

But he was quicker. “Mm mm” Aurélien growled, his voice thick, dark with dominance as he grabbed your waist and yanked you back, forcing you flush against him again. “You’re not running from this dick. Come here”

A needy, broken moan fell from your lips as he grabbed you, pinned you in place, his hands locking around your hips, making sure you took every relentless stroke. Every inch. The deep drag of him, the way he filled you without pause, left you gasping, your body trembling under him. Your vision blurred, your muscles burning from the strain of taking him this deep, this hard. Every thrust sent a sharp, intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain rippling through you, leaving you desperate, stretched, and utterly consumed by him. His grip was bruising, his pace unyielding—there was no escape, not that you wanted one.

You felt him everywhere. The heat of his body pressing down on yours, the rough scratch of his breath against your shoulder, the tension in his muscles as he held himself back just enough to draw it out. Every inch of him dragged against your walls, thick and unrelenting, forcing your body to yield. The way he filled you, the way he stretched you, made your thoughts dissolve into nothing but him. And he felt you, too—his grip tightening as he groaned low in his throat, as if he could barely hold himself together. You clenched around him, and his rhythm faltered for a split second, a raw, helpless sound tearing from his throat. “Fuck” he gritted out, the word drenched in hunger. You could feel it—how close he was to losing control, how much he loved the way you took him.

His breath ragged as he reached beneath you, fingers expertly finding your swollen, sensitive clit. He rubbed tight, merciless circles, each touch perfectly in sync with his punishing thrusts. The sharp contrast of pleasure and intensity sent you spiraling, your body tensing, then unraveling beneath his relentless pace. His other hand smoothed over your ass before bringing it down in a sharp, stinging slap. Once. Then twice. The sharp bite of pain only made the pleasure crest harder, your cries muffled against the sheets. “Give it to me” he growled, his fingers pressing, stroking, demanding—until you shattered for him, falling apart in his hands.

The combination was lethal. Your orgasm ripped through you with devastating force, your entire body jerking as your walls clenched down on him, squeezing him so tight you heard him curse under his breath. A strangled cry left you, muffled against the carpet as you came, waves of pleasure crashing over you again and again.

Aurélien groaned, his pace faltering, his grip on you tightening as he buried himself deep one last time. His body tensed, his breath shuddering as he spilled inside you, his low, broken moan vibrating against your skin.

Neither of you moved, your bodies still locked together, trembling in the aftermath. Your breaths were ragged, chests rising and falling in sync, the only sound filling the space around you.

Then, slowly, he leaned down, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses along your spine, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his chest. His warmth, the way he held you so securely against him, sent a different kind of shiver through you—one that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with the way he made you feel.

A deep, satisfied groan rumbled in his chest as he pulled out, slow and careful, letting you feel every inch of him leaving your body. The wet, obscene sound of it filled the air, making your breath hitch. He lingered there for a second, eyes locked on the way you trembled, before finally settling beside you.

Neither of you said a word at first, just the sound of your breathing filling the room. But you didn’t need to.

Then, with a lazy smirk, he exhaled a laugh. “You know” he murmured, dragging his fingers up and down your arm, “we really could’ve just fucked in the car”

You laughed, burying your face against his chest. “I don’t even know how we made it home without crashing to be honest” you admitted. “I had my hand in your pants the whole damn ride”

He groaned, shaking his head. “Yeah, I was holding on for dear life” He traced a slow circle on your hip before tilting his head down to look at you. “We’re reckless as hell”

You grinned, pressing a lazy kiss to his collarbone. “A little”

He hummed, then suddenly— “What zodiac sign do you think our baby’s gonna be?”

You froze for a second before lifting your head to look at him. The countless hours of teaching him astrology finally came back to haunt you. His expression was unreadable, but there was something teasing—something knowing—lingering in his eyes.

“The way you’ve been putting it in me like you’re trying to start a family, we might find out real soon” you teased, arching a brow.

His smirk widened, hand smoothing over your stomach. “Yeah?” His voice was deep, almost too casual. “Hope they’re a Scorpio”

“So Jules can have a birthday buddy? Great idea” you teased, rolling your eyes.

He chuckled, fingers tracing lazy patterns against your skin. “Exactly. Double the chaos.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day” you shot back, laughing.

He smirked, tilting his head. “Yeah, and nine months from now, you’re gonna be saying ‘Happy Parenthood”

You scoffed, swatting at his chest, but he just grinned, pulling you even closer. He kissed you again, deep, like he had all the time in the world to ruin you. And he did.

What started as lazy touches and teasing words unraveled into something primal, something untamed. You lost track of time, lost track of how many times he pulled you under, only to bring you back gasping, shaking, begging for more. Every surface became a playground—the bed, the couch, the kitchen table, even the floor when patience ran out. He flipped you, stretched you, took you apart in ways that had you seeing stars, until your body was trembling, muscles aching like you’d spent six straight hours on a stairmaster.

By the time you collapsed against him, boneless and wrecked, dawn was threatening the horizon. Your voice was hoarse, your skin marked with the evidence of everything he’d given you.

You knew this was gonna hurt so good when you woke up later.

[aboardthescheherazade]

is it true that they removed mentions of tintin journaling/actually mentioning his job/etc when they redrew some of the older tintin comics? i swear i remember seeing examples of that once but i have no clue where to find them again

I definitely know which post you're talking about, but I can't find it either. I'll try to compile what I remember and/or know about offhand...

For the most part, the most references to Tintin being a reporter come early on in what are considered the "newsprint editions" of the comics. The first nine albums were serialized in Le Petit Vingtieme and Le Soir Jeunesse, and these pages were later re-collected and coloured (and occasionally cut down/rewritten) for what are now known as the "Casterman editions".

Tintin being a reporter is all over Land of the Soviets, and it's introduced as early as page 1. It's the silliest album, but it's also the only album thoroughly revolving around Tintin going on a reporting assignment.

(Soviets pg. 4. By God, look at that guard in the upper right. He looks like the RESPECT! butler)

Tintin is still a reporter in Congo, but it's scaled far back in the redrawn Casterman edition. In the latter, it's kept to one mention in the very first panel, which was also turned into the first appearance of Dupont and Dupond:

(Congo pgs. 1)

Meanwhile, the newsprint edition has a scene where newspaper agents try to scout Tintin as a reporter, I guess because his stories are just that good. He ultimately declines, claiming Petit Vingtieme is paying him way more than what they offer.

(Congo pg. 17)

Now, I'd had a theory that the series just became too plot-focused to keep pausing for references to Tintin's writing, but Reddit user XenophonOfAthens made a good point about Herge being forced to pause discussion of the press and current events after the nazis shut down Le Vingtieme, thus moving Hergé and many of the same staff to the nazi-overseen Le Soir and Le Soir Jeunesse. Tintin had been introduced as Le Petit Vingtieme's boy reporter who child readers could follow along with, but now with a new (heavily monitored) publication, mentions of the "boy reporter" slowly phased out.

One of the more significant edits to Tintin's reporting comes in Cigars of the Pharaoh. Sheik Patrash Pasha originally says he's followed Tintin's adventures for "several years" and presents a then-new Vingtieme publishing of Tintin in America.

In the colour edition, he instead presents Destination Moon. This album was in production at the time of the redraws, and it was one of the first albums to be published outside of Europe...but now Tintin's reaction is especially visceral, since that album involves him going to the moon with two people he hasn't met yet.

(Cigars B&W pg. 39, Casterman pg. 15. I also gave the Sheik's servant in the latter a quick edit because it was somehow worse than the 1933 version)

The last reference to Tintin's reporting for a long while was in The Broken Ear. We are now in the Soir era:

(Broken Ear pgs. 2)

This line never made it past the newsprint version. Tintin hears the news about the museum theft, and originally, he remarks that it'll make for a nice report...but in the reprint, he's just declaring that he'll go to the museum. I feel like the wording in the original could have referred to something specific about the comic's run in Le Soir Jeunesse, but it also could have been removed under the assumption that the reader would be going into this book knowing Tintin is a reporter. He does have a notepad with him through the rest of the page, but without that context, he just seems like a busybody.

I feel like there were a lot more references to his reporting in Le Journal Tintin, which is where the comic moved its publication to. This adds credence to the possibility that readers would be picking up these books knowing Tintin was a reporter, thus it being less of a focus within each album's plot. There do seem to be little hints throughout the albums about Tintin being a reporter...one of these is a moment in Explorers on the Moon where Tintin describes the moon's surface to ground control, and as a writer myself, this to me feels like him gathering his words for a future story:

(Explorers pg. 24)

However, Tintin's reporting is brought up in an album one more time, decades later, in Picaros. Tintin is referred to as a reporter on televised news, so this is at least some confirmation that he does submit journalist work, at least off-camera or between albums:

(pg. 47)

In short, Tintin's reporting started to fade off suspiciously during an era where nazis were breathing down Hergé's neck, then got a little lost in translation, and then ultimately came back.

My theory for Tintin's reporting slowly becoming less important in the albums happened either due to 1. Hergé and co. becoming more interested in writing about other things, 2. the series being moved to a vanity publication that discussed Tintin being a reporter outside of the canon comics, or 3. it got phased out during the Le Soir era because Hergé's supervisors didn't want to promote a gonzo journalist as a hero during a time with heavy political censorship and turmoil. It's completely up in the air.

[seilon]

If i don’t get an update soon on my god damn top surgery insurance negotiation im going to lose my fucking mind