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ghouldump · 7 months ago

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I love how you write for Lestat!!!! PLEASE NEVER STOP ❤️❤️❤️

Thicker Than Water | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ you should have known better than to entertain someone who would bring up the idea of leaving your husband and daughter.

lol, thank you, rewatching s1, after seeing s2, he is so toxic 😭 but so passionate and caring about everything he does, and lestat and claudia are so much alike so i thought of this

Motherhood. One of the biggest blessings this life could bring forth. You were unfortunate, turned before you were given the opportunity to bring creation into the world. Lestat always managed to keep your relationship alive, not allowing the chance to think about it, but there were times.

Those late nights, hunting for your next meal like an animal, you’d see mothers, holding the hands of their sons and daughters. Staring for a moment, you could feel your heart, which hadn't beat in years, break. Then Claudia came along, or you came to her, saving her, pleading that Lestat turned her.

He warned that she would be a mistake, forced into the body of a child forever. While you understood him, you couldn't think rationally at the moment. A child needed to be saved and you weren't letting up, begging him, before he finally gave in.

Claudia was turned and quickly became the apple of your eyes. A mother, you had become a mother overnight and you loved her as if you'd birthed her. Her relationship with Lestat always seemed strained, the two constantly bumping heads. You found it adorable at times, they couldn't see how much they were similar, with Lestat’s blood in her veins, she was his daughter through and through.

Your baby, she was, although you may have spoiled her too much. As she grew older, wanting more than other preteen girls, the guilt began to sink in. Your baby, yet instead of taking her to a hospital that night, you forced her into becoming what you were.

“Hey,” you smiled as the front door opened, Lestat walking in. Claudia sat in a chair, while you stood behind her, carefully brushing her hair.

“Hey,” Lestat said in a weird tone, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“He’s such a dick,” Claudia said, crossing her arms.

Staring at the stairs for a second, letting his tone process, as he disappeared upstairs. Putting on your best fake smile, you changed the subject, letting Claudia talk about the current boy she had a crush on.

Your relationship, recently, had been distant. At times it was about things you felt you should no longer do, inviting people into your home, your sex life, threesomes, and orgies. You didn't want to expose Claudia to those things. Then came discipline, you never corrected her, at least not like Lestat. You were gentle with her, always, never raising your voice, and making excuses for her. It was beginning to cause a rift in your marriage.

Braiding the soft curly hair into pigtails, you sent her off to her room, the sun would be rising soon enough. Going to your bedroom, you were surprised to see Lestat already in his coffin.

“Honey, is everything alright?” you asked. One of the essential rules of your union was never to go to bed angry at the other.

“I am fine,” he said with a huff, as he opened the coffin.

“I don't like when you talk like that in front of Claudia,” you told him, watching as he rolled his eyes.

“Claudia does a lot of things I don't like, and I don't complain”

“Yes, you do, to her face and me, she's a child-

“She is not a child, she’ll be 19 in four months. She's a brat who whines to get her way, and every time, you give it to her,” he said, making you scoff.

“Sorry for being a mother to our daughter, even if you don't like her,” you told him, getting into your coffin.

“Y/n,” he called out, his voice full of sympathy.

“Just leave me alone, I'm tired,” you said, closing your eyes to fall asleep.

As night fell upon the sky, you opened your coffin, going straight to the closet, picking an outfit. You could hear Lestat standing up, but you didn’t dare to face him. His eyes set on you as you changed, slipping into the form fitting dress.

“Ma chèrie, I want to apologize for the way that I spoke to you-

“It’s fine,” you told him, adjusting the pantyhose, before stepping into the heels.

“Where are you going?” he asked with a smile, he was still bare, while you had already dressed, and were walking out of the room.

“Out,” you said, nonchalantly.

Leaving out of the room, you saw Claudia come out of her room, looking at you as you passed.

“Are we going hunting?”

“No, I have a few things to do,” you told her.

“Can I come?”

“No Claudia, I have to go alone, see if Lestat will take you”

“But-

“Or go alone, it doesn't matter,” you told her, walking away. You knew you'd probably hurt her feelings, but you couldn't be bothered to care. You couldn't care about anything right now.

You needed a break from both of them. Lestat is such a dick, Claudia is a brat, He wants you all to himself, She is trying to take you from me, it was an endless cycle of them bickering against each other - leaving you to try to be a mediator.

“What did you do, asshole?” you could hear Claudia scream at him.

“Shut up, you insolent brat,” he told her, as you left out of the front door.

Walking through the streets, you attempted to clear your mind. Claudia could be heard, talking, asking if you were alright. If you wanted to leave Lestat for good, but you ignored her. Entering the crowded bar, you tuned out her voice, choosing to focus on the jazz music played by the band.

Sitting at an empty table, you sighed, enjoying the comfort the harmony brought to your sanity.

“Mind if I sit here?” you heard, making you look up, gasping immediately.

“George,” you smiled, your eyes traveling from head to toe, examining the army uniform.

“I thought it was you I saw, I had to be sure,” he laughed, pulling you into a firm hug.

“What are you doing here? I thought-

“I’m only home for a few days, then I'm going overseas,” he said. Truth be told, you weren't paying attention to much he was saying, focused on his Adam’s apple.

“Please, sit, it has been forever,” you smiled, as he sat next to you.

George was a childhood friend, while not exactly your first love, he was your first for other things. You remembered your last time with him, he had been drafted and was being sent away to the military. He was only 18, when he left, that night being over a decade ago.

“You still look as beautiful as you did back then,” he told you.

“I know,” you smirked. You could hear his thoughts, sex clouded his brain, his eyes full of lust.

Leaning close to him, tilting your head, you slowly pressed your lips into his. You and Lestat both had your fair share of fulfilled fantasies, but this was different. Something on your own, the stress relief you needed from the problems in your life.

“You want to come back to my place?” he asked you.

“Lead the way,” you told him, biting your lip, as he stood, walking you to his car.

During the drive, he caught you up on his life and how he managed to rank up within the service. The loss of his parents, inheriting their house while he was away. He went on about how he was getting older and needed to start looking for a wife.

“What about you?” he finally asked as he parked in front of the house.

It wasn't nearly as extravagant as you had become accustomed to, living with Lestat, but it was perfect for a normal, small, but growing family.

“What about me?”

“Your life? How has it been these last few years?” he asked as you followed him, and he unlocked the door, letting you in.

“Well, I'm married and I have a daughter,” you said, chuckling as his eyes widened.

“You probably should've told me that before I took you to my house,” he told you, as you went to the living room, sitting on the sofa.

“It's complicated”

“Then talk to me, you know you can trust me, sweets,” he said, you couldn't help but smile at the old nickname.

“My daughter, she's…adopted, but that doesn't change a thing, she's mine. She and my husband, are always bumping heads, they are so similar and so stubborn. Their relationship is causing a rift, I just need a break from both of them,” you shook your head.

“You sound stressed out, sweets,” George said, reaching for your hand.

“I am,” you nodded.

“Maybe I can help you?” he said, as you looked at his hand, the way his thumb brushed against your skin.

“Yeah?” you smirked at him, as he pulled you onto his lap.

“You don't think she’ll leave us, do you?” Claudia asked her father. They sat in the car, a good distance from the house.

The two of them were worried about you, and while they argued at first, they quickly got it together and chose to follow you. Full of jealousy, it took everything in them to not kill the man the moment he joined your table.

You, despite also having Lestat’s blood, weren't like them. You weren't so quick to kill, hunting rodents before you’d choose to drain a person to death, always trying to bring comfort to the two of them. You held onto human traditions while embracing immortality. From convincing them to partake in family portraits to bonding with the two of them in the living room. They loved you greatly, so much that they'd put up with each other.

“You know this is your fault, she asked you to stop messing with that hussy, and you wouldn't,” Claudia spat at her father.

Lestat could hardly listen, his shaken hand going to his mouth. He could hear undoubtedly, what you were doing, what the two of you were doing. This was different than a threesome or orgy with people that meant nothing to the two of you. They'd usually end up drained or glamoured before the night was over. But this, my god, was different, Lestat felt the lust that you felt for this man, that you knew, and that made him sick to his core.

“You went to see her again?” you crossed your eyes, leaning against the doorpost, as he entered the house.

“She is no competition, ma chérie, it is you, who have my heart,” he told you, as you clenched your jaw.

“I thought we decided to put all of this stuff behind us”

“You did when you decided you wanted to become a mother,” he said, a gleam of disgust in his eyes, briefly staring at Claudia, as he went upstairs.

This was his fault, he had caused the wedge between the two of you, and he had to be the one to fix it. A bloody tear slipped out his eye, while he moved his hair out of his face.

“She won’t leave us,” he told his daughter, as he started the car, driving past the house.

“I have to go,” you told George, straddling his waist, in his bed.

“You don't have to leave,” he told you, his hand caressing your back.

“I do,” you laughed.

“Your family, you can leave them, start over with me, get married, and we’ll make a daughter of our own”

“Those things are easier said than done, I couldn't up and leave them, they need me as much as I need them,” you said, pulling away, to get dressed.

“I didn't mean to offend you, sweets,” he apologized.

“It's okay, really, I just need to get back home, the sun will be up soon enough,” you shook your head.

“Well I can drop you off-

“No need, you don't live too far from my house”

“Can I see you again, tomorrow?”

“We’ll see,” you smiled, before leaving his house, walking home.

Entering the house, you were surprised by how quiet it was, abnormally quiet. Going upstairs, you peeked in Claudia’s room. Everything was neatly organized, with her coffin in the middle of the room, closed. Smiling lightly, you shut the door, before moving to your shared bedroom. Lestat was already away in his coffin, while yours was still open.

Stripping from your clothing, you felt a weight lifted from your shoulders. The previous tense stress that was there before, was gone. Climbing into your coffin, you looked over at Lestat’s before shutting your own.

“Good night,” you said lowly, before falling asleep.

Sleeping throughout the day, as night approached, you felt an uneasy sensation in your stomach. Unable to move, you felt restricted, when suddenly, your Achilles’ heel was sliced. Your eyes finally opened, widening seeing Claudia stand, a small blade in her hand. Staring into her piercing eyes, she held a deep frown, before going to Lestat’s side.

Your mouth was taped, and your body was wrapped in chains, you felt weak and confused. Immediately, you looked to Lestat, whose back was turned to you, before he turned to face you, moving to reveal the surprise.

George sat tied in front of you, tape on his mouth, his face already bruising. George looked at you, before screaming at Lestat, who frowned at him.

“Pathetic,” he said before his eyes went to you. You could see the blood stains on his face that he had been crying.

“Ma chérie, you hurt me badly, both of us,” he told you, before ripping the tape from your mouth.

“What are you talking about? How is this different from you going to see her?” you asked him.

“That was different and you know it, I heard you, I could feel your passion for him,” he screamed at you, tears pouring out.

“No one told you to follow me”

“No, but he will pay, for thinking he was worthy to have you, and for trying to break our family apart,” he said, as he moved to George, using his nail to cut his face.

“Claudia, let me out of this, I need to heal,” you hold her, but she turns her head, the bloody tears leaking from her eyes.

“He wants to take you from us, mama, and give you a new daughter, I know we had our problems, but I never thought that you would want to leave,” she said, crossing her arms.

“I don't, I told him I didn't, I love you both, I’ve been overwhelmed with stress, and I wanted relief, but that's it, not to leave you, either of you,” you told him. George continued struggling to speak. Claudia rolled her eyes, ripping the tape from his mouth, making him yelp.

“It’s true, she said she needs you both, as much as you need her,” George said, making the two look at you.

“Ma chérie-

“Mama-

The two spoke at the same time, making their way in front of you, and wrapping their arms around you.

“I’m sorry for how I've acted, I don't want you to find pleasure anywhere else, just hours with you in the arms of another, feels like death all over,” Lestat told you.

“And I don't want to lose you as my mama, I’ll be better,” Claudia said, her voice cracking. You found both of their confessions heart-touching, becoming emotional.

“You both are perfect the way you are, we should've communicated better as a family,” you told him, as they both agreed.

Standing tall, you watched as Claudia grabbed the bolt cutters, breaking the chains from around you. Lestat helped you stand, holding your waist, as you leaned on him.

“We had to be sure you wouldn't break free if you were leaving with him, sorry, mama,” she said, glancing at your feet.

“It's alright”

“Y/n, help me,” George pleaded with you.

“Your meal, ma chérie,” Lestat eyed him.

“We know you prefer hunting your rodents, which is why we brought the meal to you, as we celebrate,” Claudia said.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Our companionship,” Lestat smirked.

“Our family will be stronger than ever, after this,” Claudia told you.

Looking at George, he was confused and scared. Baring your teeth, you limped over to him.

“Don't worry about the mess, we will clean up,” Claudia said.

“Y/n, what are you-

Covering his mouth, you sank your teeth into his neck, climbing into his lap. Your eyes shut, as you took pleasure in the rarity, the blood dripping from your chin.

“Y/n, please,” George begged, his eyes slightly rolling back.

“Join me,” you told Claudia, smiling as she rushed over, biting his wrist. Looking at Lestat, he was more hesitant, approaching as you held out your hand. Intertwining your fingers, he leaned down, kissing your lips. The blood smeared on his mouth before he attacked the other side of George’s neck.

Leaning against the brick wall, you watched as Lestat and Claudia burned the body. Your arms wrapped around your body, as you watched them interact. They calmly conversed with each other, before they turned, walking towards you.

“And so who was right in the end?” You could hear Lestat talking.

“You were”

“Correct”

“What was he correct about?” you asked Claudia, smiling at the two.

“Blood is thicker than water,” she said, as he pat her head in approval. All you could think of us was how close they seemed.

“It's cause we're a family, mama, we have our problems but we are meant to all be together,” she giggled, as she heard your thoughts.

“You're right, I love you, both of you,” you told them, accepting Lestat’s kiss, before kissing Claudia’s forehead.

“We still have a few hours before sunrise, should we go for a nice drive?” you asked him.

“Sounds perfect,” Lestat said, watching as you turned, going into the house.

“You did well,” he told Claudia.

“I learned from the best,” she said, as they shared a secretive handshake, going inside, pleased, knowing that together they were able to fix the problems in their family.

#lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv

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filbertt · 8 months ago

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art block sucks 😭 it takes me forever to just want to draw

no season 5 spoilers in this post (but pls do watch, u can watch the full season in eng sub on tiktok)

explanations for some of the drawings:

- mac going out of portal:

this mac is S2, S3 macaque. i wasn’t really sure what i was doing other than i wanted him to have a sleeveless top, but idk, what do yall think abt the fit?? the thing tied around his waist is also in fact his scarf (maybe he did this in some retaliation sort of way?)

- mac hold tiny monkie:

so i imagine like when macaque first got to flowerfruit island that he was very tense bc he’s not used to being around other lifeforms. like i imagine he never interacted with any lifeforms until he wandered around and stumbled onto the island and first met wukong. i like to think that the monkies rlly love mac cuz they sick and tired of wukong momming them around.

- mac with training staff:

i was gonna give him his like normal shadow staff when i realized that this is pre-jttw and he didn’t have particularly shadow powers yet (maybe, but most likely.) as opposed to the other pre-jttw drawing, he’s grown to be more confident and comfortable. in this drawing, he’s in the midst of a training battle with wukong.

MORE TO COME HOPEFULLY? maybe a comic? maybe another random sketchbook drawing? idk 🤷🏻‍♀️

#lmk macaque #lego monkie kid #lmk fanart #drawing #sketchbook #shadowpeach

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alien-bluez · 1 year ago

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raahhhh guh. another lineup, s2 kiddads. i love them so much they're rotating in my mind like a rotisserie chicken. god.

design notes for them under the cut if ur interested!

Grant

blue sweater bc blue is symbolic of titanic ep (something borrowed, something blue)

his tie color is the same color as Darryl's hat in my design

Wears Frank's watch that Darryl gave him, even if it's broken he doesn't take it off.

Green creeper socks because it's a Must. He wouldn't be Grant without them.

Sparrow

curly hair he got from mercedes' genes. he grew out his hair like lark

has a pink flower tucked in his hair like my henry's design

his jewelry and clothes are mostly borrowed from mercedes, he got really into crystals and other things like that growing up and got closer to his druid roots.

earrings are a feather and an oak leaf maybe i dunno i'll figure it out later lol

tattoos! there's supposed to be a bird outline there and other plant/nature related stuff on his arm. I'll draw it out better in the future mayhaps.

colors are brighter, more lifelike cuz he's closer to nature and all that jazz.

Lark

his hair has strands of white hair because of stress/trauma/Everything going on

hair is messier, unkempt because he cares less about appearances and doesn't have time anyways.

darker forest colors, less in tune with nature than sparrow.

his pants are the same color as my Henry's shorts :0) i needed a connection somewhere to his parents, and it just had to be henry.

Terry Jr.

purple shirt because his color is purple to me

fish motifs!! everywhere! i hc that when he and ron get closer bonding thru fishing they'd get each other fun fish printed shirts or something. This was Ron's gift to Terry. The colors of the fish are color picked from my Ron's design.

Fish tail tie and the shirt is also split like a fish tail maybe.

he's the tallest of the kiddads forever and always

Nicky

he wears glenn's sunglasses on his head

he grew out his hair long like morgan's because it's like the one thing he still really has of her. has her hair type and he takes very good care of his hair.

still has the ripped leather jacket from his time as nick and various patches of bands he likes (didn't want to draw them out yet.)

blue shirt because of his time as nicholas/reminder of jodie. blue holster belt and pants are also blue for jodie association

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dungeons and daddies fanart #dndads fanart #dndads season 2 #grant wilson #sparrow oak #lark oak #terry jr #nicky foster #kiddads #i love them all so dearly #i have so many thoughts and more things i wanna incorporate in their designs later on #nicky is my fave tho i'm so biased #ehehe i will draw more of them sometime

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formyloveoflove · 8 months ago

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The Bear S3 and the Choices We Make

Ok. After a second watch of S3, I'm feeling a little bit more optimistic about the future. Trust - it's a sad ending. It's my worst nightmare for Sydney. But there's still hope, and that all lies in what Carmen and Syd decide to do next. Season 3 Spoilers - read at your own risk :)

In S3 E10 Forever, we see our two mains go through a breakthrough. Starting with Carmen, he finally confronts his former boss (who has a name, i think, but fuck him, I ain't using it). It's the first (and only time) that we see Carmen proactively voice his resentment. He avoids his mom (rightfully so imo). He never got the chance with Mikey. But he approaches him, expects the man to have repent (maybe), or at the very least, have a little remorse.

He doesn't. He regrets nothing. In fact, he takes credit for Carmen's success: his hard work, his skills, and his talent. He tells Carmen that he should be thanking him, and that's not even the worst of it. No, for me, it is when he says

Carmen: My life stopped. Chef: That's the point, right? [...] You wanted to be great. You wanted to be excellent. So you got rid of all the bullshit, and you concentrated, and you got focused, and you got great. You got excellent. It worked. You're here. Look at all this

Sound familiar? It should. It's the same sentiment that Carmen said in the Season 2 finale. Remember, he said,

I wasn't here. Right? What the fuck was I thinking? Like I was going to be in a relationship? I'm a fuckin' pyscho. That's why I'm good at what I do. That's how I operate. I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could focus, and I could concentrate.

Carmen's thoughts about himself aren't even his own. They were drilled into him by a man who wouldn't piss on him if he was on fire. He was emulating the abusive behaviors and patterns that crushed him, that gave him "uclers, panic attacks, and nightmares" on the people that he cares about. On his sister, on Richie, on Tina and Marcus. and especially on Sydney, who is the only one who knows exactly how bad it can get. He's hurt those closest to him. He hurts them daily. And for what? And for why? For his own ego.

And this realization leads us to Carmen's first cry.

For three whole seasons, we see this man lose his idolized brother to suicide, witness his alcoholic mother physically, emotionally, and mentally abuse him, and experience mental degradation to the point where it affects his physical health. Not once did he shed a tear. This is the first time Carmen Berzatto lets himself cry. And I think this is the best thing for him. If he chooses to acknowledge the err of his ways, turn back course, and begin again, I think The Bear could be what he wanted it to be. He needs to decide to stop running, stop fighting himself and everybody around him. He needs to let go. Let it rip, right?

However, if this is what he decides to do, the cards ultimately fall into Sydney's hands.

If anybody's been through hell and back, it's Ms. Sydney Adamu. All season she's been forced to work in a volatile environment, putting herself between Carmen and whoever's the victim of his anger. She has her ideas shut down, her skills demeaned, and her credit is outright non-existent. Staff keeps quitting; they're not making any money; and Cicero and Co. is doing some shady background shit.

She's trapped, but not really. Not until she signs that Partnership Agreement. But like she told her dad in S2 E9 Omelette, she doesn't think she has another one in her. She can't have The Bear fail like Sheridan Road. She doesn't want to make the same mistakes she did last time. She wants to grow and learn and make her mark on the industry - prove she's not a failure.

She's waiting for Carmen to make good on his promises from The Table Scene, but he's not.

"You deserve my full focus." But his focus is not on her. Remember the Carmen that noticed when something was off with her? Remember the "say more?" or the "what's up with you?" Remember when they worked together, when the menu was truly theirs? Where was Sydney's "margin" moment? What did Carmen do this scene that signaled to Sydney that he was there and present.

"I couldn't do this without you." He does everything without her. Don't even get me started. From the menu to the list of nonnegotiables. Syd gets to make no decisions after being forced to make ALL the decisions. What is she there for? To be Carm's wrangler, his doormat? What has he does to convince her that she is invaluable?

He's egotistical. He's verbally abusive. He's the exact person that she warned him not to be. That he assured her that he wouldn't be in S1 E3 Brigade. She said,

You know I think this place could be so different from all the other places we've been at. But, in order for that to be true, we need to run things different. [...] But you just didn't really listen, and if this is going to work the way I think we both want it to work, I think we should probably try to listen to each other. The reason why I'm here, and not somewhere else or for someone else, is because I think I can stand out here. I can make a difference here. We could share ideas. I could implement things that make this place better. And I don’t wanna be wasting my time, working on another line or tweezing herbs on a dish that I don’t care about.

He didn't follow through the first time, so she left. But now, it's different. She's put her blood, sweat, and tears into this place. She's made a place (a home even) at The Bear. Leaving is not as simple anymore.

S1 Syd would've taken that CDC offer in a heartbeat. But building something and it failing (like The Bear. like Sheridan Road.) is terrifying. Slowly but surely, Carmen has been chipping away at her confidence and her fire. So much so that good things, like The Offer or the review of her risotto from The Beef, don't feel like good things.

Sydney's Panic Attack is HUGE for her character. We see Sydney at her lowest: her most frightening and vulnerable. She's uncertain. She's in a constant state of panic. And the person that she trusted with her fears and insecurities facilitated this, drove her to this point. It's heartbreaking. I cried when I saw it. No one would blame her for jumping ship. At this point, I encourage it (but she has to talk about it, acknowledge it. no running).

Now, if Carmen decides to change his ways, he'd have apologized to Sydney twice without changed actions. She'd have to believe him after many, many broken promises. At this time, she doesn't trust him, can't rely on him. But when having to decide between staying or going, will she try to trust him again?

Will she? Should she?

That's where I'm at so far. I have more thoughts, but I'll write those out when I get back from my weekend trip.

#the bear #the bear fx #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #the bear season 3 #the bear gifs #the bear spoilers #the bear meta #sydcarmy

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 5 months ago

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Another common way in which I think criticism of OFMD can fall apart is when people don't take the show at its word about what genres it's trying to inhabit.

This was one of the most annoying aspects of the few negative pre-release OFMD reviews, for me. Like I said, the vast majority let us know that we were in for a wonderful treat, but there were a few that complained that it took forever for "plot" to happen, and this is just such a bizarre criticism for me because I find it so hard to believe that someone who professionally reviews media could have so much trouble figuring out what the "plot" of a show is supposed to be.

But then this criticism just kept popping up, and it still makes me roll my eyes. Post-s2, in some Izzy fan circles there's been an argument that Izzy is a more important character than he actually is because "the plot only happens when he's around." And where these analyses fall short, I think, is that they fail to consider that OFMD has always been a character-driven show, not an action-driven one.

There's a difference between the main plot of a show and things that happen in that show. OFMD is a romantic comedy, it exists to tell us a story of Ed and Stede's romance. It plays with the romcom format, and a lot of the humor in the show comes from juxtaposing this with piracy as a backdrop. But piracy is not what OFMD is about; it's about a romance that happens to take place within piracy as a setting. Complaining that there's not enough action in OFMD is like watching Black Sails and getting mad about its overly-serious tone - that's a feature, not a bug.

If you expect OFMD to look like an action-driven story, there's really not a lot that happens, and you'll be disappointed by how seemingly jerky and slowly the "plot" moves. But it's actually a character-driven story, and if you watch for the main characters and the development of their stories, it's a very smooth ride. Bigger background elements, like Chauncey and the Act of Grace and Ricky's attack on the Republic of Pirates, are not meant to be a focus, they're meant to force Ed and Stede into situations that will reveal more about their characters and move their arcs along.

And I can't help but wonder if this criticism of OFMD is so common because people just don't expect a queer romcom to actually be a queer romcom. We're so used to stories where even queer main characters' romance has to take a backseat or only be hinted at. OFMD stands out because the romance actually is the point, and some people, I think, for whatever reason, just can't believe that.

#ofmd #our flag means death #pccp's stuff

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criticallyinneedofadar · 5 months ago

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Alliance of Shadows (2)

A/N: Thank you for all the love! I'm super excited for this series to really get moving. Side note- this series becomes non canon compliant starting from S2 Ep 7

Pairing: Adar x Reader

Word Count: 1597

Warnings: None

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There is a sense of unease in your halls tonight. Your apprentices look on with distrust as Adar and his companions are escorted through the halls. The orcs- or Uruk as Adar had informed you- look similarly uncomfortable. They are not as frightening as you had been led to believe. A touch smelly perhaps, but not the vile monsters that the elves had made them out to be.

When you reach the dining hall, Adar’s companions are urged to stand guard at the door, one taking their place and the other staying close behind their leader. Lanterns flicker with pale blue flames, casting ghostly shadows that dance along the ancient stone walls. You sit at the head of the table, regal and composed, your eyes fixed on Adar as he takes his seat opposite you, his guard standing just to the right of his shoulder. Between you, the air is thick with tension, both of you aware that this meal is a prelude to something far greater.

Your staff moves silently, placing before you a spread of dishes made from the mountain’s wild game, herbs, and roots. The scent of roasted venison and spiced wine fills the room, but neither of you pays much attention to the food. Your focus is on each other, on the words left unsaid.

He watches you carefully, his eyes dark and calculating, but you feel the wariness in him. Despite his confidence, there is something else lurking behind it—a quiet unease. He has heard of your power, of course. He must wonder if the rumors are true.

After a moment, you break the silence, your voice smooth, yet edged with an air of authority. "You have come seeking my aid, Adar, but tell me—why should I risk my people for your cause? We have lived safely in these mountains, untouched by the wars of the world below. Why should we leave the sanctuary of this place for a conflict that does not concern us?"

Adar doesn’t respond immediately. He picks up his goblet, taking a measured sip of the wine, his eyes never leaving yours. "Your people are safe for now," he says, his voice low, steady. "But safety is fleeting. The world is changing, and those who hide will eventually be found. You may think the mountains protect you, but they cannot shield you forever."

You smile faintly, swirling the wine in your goblet. His words are not new to you; others have tried to convince you of the same before. But Adar is different. He does not plead. He does not beg. He speaks as though his vision is inevitable.

"And you believe you are the answer?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "You, who seeks to build a new world from the ashes of the old one?"

Adar’s jaw tightens, but he remains composed. "I offer you more than just survival. I offer you a place in that new world, as equals. Your people, my children—together, we can create something stronger than what the elves, the men, or the dwarves have ever known."

As he speaks, you decide to test him. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you let your power unfurl. The shadows in the room deepen, shifting unnaturally, stretching toward him. The blue flames in the lanterns flicker and dim as though a sudden wind has swept through, though the air remains still. The wine in his goblet ripples, the surface trembling with a quiet force.

Adar notices, his eyes flicking to the shadows moving across the walls, to the subtle warping of reality around him. You sense the flicker of fear that passes through him—a crack in his stoic mask. His fingers tense around the goblet, knuckles white as he realizes that this is no simple trick. You are not like the other sorcerers he has encountered. Your power does not command the elements, nor bend them; it reshapes the world itself.

"You play dangerous games," he says, his voice low, but there is a bite to it now, a threat simmering beneath the surface. He brings his hand, covered in that fearsome gauntlet, to wipe a drop of wine from the corner of his pale lips. "Whatever magic you wield, do not think to use it against me. If you try to sway my mind or bend my will, I will kill you where you stand."

At his words, your apprentices go to step forward, but you wave a hand, dismissing their caution. You study him for a long moment, the corner of your mouth curving into a smile. His vitriol amuses you, though you do not dismiss the threat he poses. There is truth in his words—Adar is not a man to be taken lightly. But you have lived long enough to know when a creature is cornered, lashing out in the face of power it cannot control. You pause for a moment, there is true fear hidden there somewhere. A pain, likely from his time in Sauron's grip, that has not yet healed. It softens you somewhat.

"Bold," you say softly, leaning forward, your gaze locked on his. "Very bold to threaten a spider in her own den."

The shadows retreat, releasing their grip on the room as if you had never commanded them. The flames return to their steady flicker, and the tension in the air eases, though the power still hums quietly beneath your skin. You watch him carefully, noting how he straightens in his chair, regaining a sense of control, though the fear remains, simmering just beneath the surface.

Adar’s expression hardens, but you see the careful calculation in his eyes. He may not trust you, but he knows that his survival—his vision—depends on your aid. Whatever power he commands, it is not enough on its own. He needs you. And that is what gives you the upper hand.

"You seek to build a kingdom from the ruins of the world," you say, your voice regaining its steady, regal tone. "But kingdoms are built on more than just promises of power. What guarantee do I have that my people will not be sacrificed for your ambition?"

Adar takes a deep breath, composing himself before answering. "You will have more than a promise. You will have a place in this new world, not as pawns, but as equals. I am not Galadriel, offering hollow alliances. I seek something greater—a world where those cast aside by the light can thrive."

You study him for a long moment, considering the weight of his words. There is truth in them, and you cannot deny the appeal of what he offers. But you are not one to act out of impulse. You need more than promises.

"You say we will be equals," you say, your voice softening but holding a dangerous edge. "Prove it."

Adar frowns, unsure of your meaning, but you hold his gaze, unblinking. Then, slowly, his eyes widen with realization. He reaches into his cloak and pulls something from within—a small, glimmering object that catches the dim light.

A ring.

Not just any ring, but one unmistakably elven. Delicate vines and etchings cover its silver band, and you recognize the craftsmanship at once—Celebrimbor's. The magic that pulses from it is ancient, powerful, and undeniably alluring.

Adar places it on the table between you, his dark eyes never leaving yours. "Galadriel sought to use it to subdue Sauron. In her foolishness, it has come to me. This ring, her ring, would be yours. A symbol of my defiance... and of our potential."

You lean forward, your fingers hovering over the ring, but you do not touch it. Instead, you look at Adar, studying him once more. He has offered you the heart of his defiance, a symbol of the very world he seeks to tear down. In that moment, you realize that he may not be bluffing. He is willing to cast aside the light entirely—and he wants you to join him in the darkness.

You withdraw your hand and sit back, the faintest smile on your lips. "I will admit to being intrigued by your proposal, Adar, if your vision is worth the risk. But know this—if you ever attempt to sway me with tricks or force my hand, the spider will strike back."

Adar’s eyes narrow, his grip tightening on the goblet once more, but he nods. "I would expect nothing less."

You raise your glass in a silent toast, your gaze locked with his. “I would ask for three days to make my decision. War is not an undertaking to decide on rashly. I will speak with my council and give you my decision. In the meantime, you are welcome to explore the royal quarters. Unfortunately, I cannot allow you unrestricted access to our home- you understand?”

He nods in acquiescence, “I accept the conditions. Though I would urge haste, Sauron’s power can only grow the longer he sits in Eregion.”

You stand from your place, Adar rising as you do. “My staff will show you to rooms where you may take your rest. Should you require anything, please send for me.” Your eyes roam over him once more, tall and proud. His dark eyes lock with yours, and there it is again, that tremble of connection. For a moment, it makes you sway where you stand, and you quickly mask it by reaching for your goblet of wine. The slightest smirk on his handsome face is the only indication that he may have caught your slip.

As you take one last sip of wine, the taste sharp and rich, you feel the weight of the future settling over you. A new world is on the horizon, and you will either help shape it—or destroy it.

The choice, it seems, is now yours.

#adar series #adar #adar x you #adar x reader #adar x oc #adar fanfic #rings of power s2 #adar rings of power #alliance of shadows

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sleepsunawareof · 1 year ago

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Well like many, the Loki S2 finale has me still reeling and I have had this little drabble on my brain and had to get it out. I am not really a writer, I've not written a fic since I was a teenager probably lol so be easy on me but alas, I hope this is enjoyed by those who also just couldn't bear the thought of Loki being alone at the end of time forever.

Description: Loki uses his time slipping abilities to talk to you one last time before making the decision he knows he has to in order to save those he loves. But, you aren't so willing to let him condemn himself to an eternity alone, or yourself to a lifetime without him.

Word Count: 1367

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVENT SEEN LOKI S2 EP6!! Angst, sadness, happy ending mostly

••••••••••••••

"How are you doing this?", you asked as you watched strands of space and time float around you and Loki throughout A.D Doug's workshop.

"We're outside of time. Darling, I had to see you. I had to speak to you." Loki said, a sorrowful look on his face that you had never seen before. "The Loom, it was a failsafe all along. And no amount of scaling can account for infinite timelines. I thought we had it, I really did", he explained.

"Damnit, we should have known it would be...", you lamented.

"I spent centuries trying to figure it out, and it was all for nothing."

"Centuries?" you questioned.

"It's hard to explain" he responded. "Darling, there are only two options. Go back and kill Sylvie before she kills He Who Remains and allow the Sacred Timeline to continue--"

You cut him off. "You can't Loki! The Sacred Timeline is full of misery, injustice, and sadness - what the TVA stood for under He Who Remains was all wrong! We can't go back to that. And you know you could never kill Sylvie...not after everything we have all been through together."

"I know...", he said, a sad knowing in his voice and his eyes. "But there is one other way."

"And what's that?"

"Me".

"What? You? I don't understand Loki..." you said cautiously.

"The finite power of a machine can never handle the infinite timelines of a multiverse, but the infinite power of a God can", he said as he watched your face intently for any hint of reaction.

It took a moment as you stared at him, blinking. "Do you mean..." you questioned, as the realization of what he was saying started to set in.

"Yes, my love. Believe me, if there was any other way, I swear I would take it. But there isn't. I know what kind of God I need to be, for you, for all of us. It's the only way."

"Loki, if this is what you have to do, then please, take me with you at least!" you implored.

"My darling y/n, you know I can not do that. I must bear this burden alone, and you must go live your life on the timeline, the one you deserve to have. I could never condemn you to an eternity of solitude at the End of Time", he said sorrowfully.

"But you'll condemn me to a life of solitude on Earth? Loki, I can't live without you. There's no life for me down there if it's not with you! Please, as long as our friends are happy, and I'm with you, that's all I'll need. Please let me go with you!". The last part came out as a sob as your emotions got the best of you. You couldn't believe what he was talking about doing, the sacrifice he planned to make for the ones he loved.

"When I go back there, to that moment in time, you won't remember any of this. You won't know you said you wanted to go with me," he reminded you.

"Loki, every version of me across space and time would go with you. Even into the abyss, if that's where you have to go. I will follow you, I know I will!" you fully sobbed out as you threw your arms around him. The thought of him leaving you was killing you.

"They'll stop you if you try to follow me, you know that" he said, speaking of your friends back at the TVA.

"Then tell them not to Loki! Please, I'm begging. My place is beside you, always and forever, no matter where that place is."

And then Loki was gone and everything turned to spaghetti.

••••••••••••••

Loki slipped effortlessly back to just the right moment in the Loom control room, having been here in this moment over and over for centuries. This time though, it was different. This time, it was the last time. Loki looked over at you and his friends with a sad and knowing smile on his face. And then with one last look, he turned and ran down the stairs towards the blast doors. He knew he could keep you from following, lock the doors behind him with impenetrable magic. But he also knew that in your heart, you would never want to be without him. You would resent him forever if he left you on Earth alone.

You, Sylvie, and Mobius ran down the stairs after him immediately, but he was already through the airlock doors. The three of you watched Loki open the blast doors with his magic and start to step outside, absent of any protective suit. As you reached out to open the airlock door and go after him, Mobius pulled you back.

"Mobius, I have to go! I have to get to him!!!" you screamed.

"You can't! The temporal radiation will kill you if you open that door and go out there, you know that!"

"But it's going to kill HIM!" you cried out as you watched Loki walk out onto the walkway.

But something amazing started to happen. As the temporal energy shredded his TVA clothes away with every passing second, something else began to take it's place. Flowing dark green linen draped his form, traditional and humble shoes appeared on his feet, and a horned crown adorned his head. He looked absolutely Godlike and regal. As Loki walked closer to the Loom - this imperfect piece of machinery that took so much from so many - he lifted his hands, called upon his magic, and destroyed it in a flash of bright green and white light.

Then, there was darkness. Loki wasn't done, though. He reached out to grab a strand of time and suddenly it glowed back to life, his beautiful green magic allowing it to thrive. He grabbed another, and another. You, Mobius, and Sylvie stood silently in the airlock, watching as Loki brought the timelines back to life, one by one, gathering them in his hands. Above him, a chasm opened in the sky, revealing the End of Time. Loki looked back one last time at the 3 of you back in the airlock. He had no idea if you would really come after him like you said - but he wanted to see your face one last time if it was truly to be the last. Your eyes locked, and you knew now that the temporal energy was gone, there was no threat if you left the airlock.

"I have to go with him." you said to Mobius and Sylvie. "His worst fear is to be alone, and he is going to condemn himself to a lifetime of loneliness to save us all!" you said as you opened the door.

"Y/n, please! Stop! You don't know what you're giving yourself to." This time, it was Sylvie who pulled you back, holding your arm so you couldn't run down the walkway.

"Yes, I do. I'm giving myself to love. I'm giving myself to free will, to choice, to hope." you said.

"Sylvie, let her go," Loki called out. "It's going to be okay." he assured.

Sylvie let go of you hesitantly, and you started your walk out to Loki. When you reached him, he could not take your hand, but you took his arm. Together, you began to ascend the invisible stairs to the End of Time as he held the reanimated timelines in his hands. As you both crossed the threshold of the chasm to the End of Time, He Who Remains' throne and the ruins of his citadel came into view. Loki walked forward to the throne, the one he never wanted but was always destined to have. The timelines took on the beautiful form of a tree - Yggdrasil, the tree of life - the tree of the multiverse that Loki would tend to for eternity.

"This is where I'll have to stay forever, darling. I can never leave, never move. Tending to the timelines is my glorious purpose, my eternal burden. Are you truly willing to stay here with me?" he inquired.

"Yes, my love", you answered without hesitation.

"For all time?" He asked.

"Always".

#loki x reader #tva!loki x reader #loki x you #loki #marvel #mcu #god!loki x reader #drabble #loki drabble #loki imagine #loki season 2 #loki s2 rewrite #not canon #loki series #mcu loki

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prolix-yuy · 1 year ago

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Beautiful Release

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: You and Din have an agreement. Simple, clean, easy. But not this time.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, IT'S PEGGING DIN TIME! Anal sex (m receiving), rough sex, sex toys, fingering (m receiving), handjob, frottage, blowjob, swallowing, cumshot, mentions of oral sex (f receiving), mild dubcon (Reader isn't aware of Din's mental state and stops the session to re-negotiate boundaries), painful sex, sex as self-flagellation, hurt/comfort.

Notes: Welcome to my addition to the Peg That Middle Aged Man Event 2024! This idea had been bumping around in my brain and this gave me the perfect excuse to write it. Thanks @wannab-urs for organizing this event, making the gorgeous banners, and giving me a chance to live my fantasies after S3 gave us the most delicious kneeling restrained Din image. I will never forget it, it's burned into my brain forever.

Set after S2 and before The Book of Boba Fett.

Cross-posted on AO3

He’s come to you before, but never like this.

Din always treats your encounters like serendipity, but from the first time you’ve known how far from the truth that is. He finds ways to drift into your path, tilting his helmet like he never expected you to be at this spaceport, which you prefer for its discretion, or in this cantina, which serves a hell of a barium fizz. The niceties always devolve into the silent request, which you never fail to fulfill.

But now, there’s a holomessage blinking on your control panel.

Send me your coordinates. Usual encoding.

It’s brisk, cold, mostly to protect you both, but even then something’s off. He’s never admitted to seeking you out. Something stirs deep in your stomach, consulting the encoding slug he gave you ages ago in case you ever needed him. Funny, the first time you’d use it would be because you think he needs you.

Your winding relationship with Din Djarin began at the business end of a blaster, but you can’t fault him for that. The ship you were flying then had all the hallmarks of a slaver vessel, but when he found your crew of rebel sympathizers he lowered his weapon. One escort and a few short-lived conversations later, and you’d forged a razor-thin alliance.

Your paths wound their way across and through each other for over a year, and in that time Din warmed to you. He gave you his name, his allegiances, his contacts if needed. In return you forged documents and built jammers for his ramshackle ship. Mutually beneficial, and after a time pleasantly warm. His laugh always surprised you, a low chuckle when you turned a phrase just right on him.

And the kid! The curious little gremlin that had been accompanying him more in recent times did help to smooth the rough spots. Grogu’s presence always brightened your days, brief moments of pure joy from his tireless antics. Din seemed to be ever the exasperated protector, but when he tucked Grogu into his arm his aura glowed.

However, the times when Din “stumbled” upon you with seemingly no purpose had little to do with play dates or trades. Well, maybe only in the most euphemistic sense.

It was on a cargo run - cargo being more frightened people fleeing under the guise of your fake shipping business - that Din first encountered what would bring him back to you time and time again. There was a man among the stowaways who took an interest in you, the feeling mutual. He wound his way around like a lothcat in heat, and when you whispered how you might be able to pass the time he enthusiastically agreed.

You weren’t much of an exhibitionist, but the ship wasn’t meant for privacy. So when Din happened upon you bending the man over a cargo crate, your strap slickly splitting him open as he moaned behind your clamped hand, you did feel some mild embarrassment. You weren’t sure how long he watched you thrust into the other man, but the little cough that alerted you to his presence made you turn and take him in.

He was clearly affected, hand gripping his belt as the other clenched by his side. Fascinating. The Mandalorian had surprises in store.

The man garbled about sucking Din’s cock, letting the Mando cum on his face while you pounded his tight hole, but you stuck your fingers in his mouth and picked up your rhythm again. You’d met other Mandalorians in your travels, but Din’s particular religion was much stricter than most. He might take hefty offense if you assumed any of the armor could come off. Instead you let him watch without comment as your companion came all over the side of the cargo crate, soothing him through the aftershocks. As you cleaned him up you noticed your audience fled, and you determined never to speak of this.

It would take two months for Din to come to you.

“People like this?” he asked when you showed him your strap and assortment of attachments. You shrugged, picking out the one you secretly thought he’d enjoy.

“Some do, some don’t. It’s just one of many things I like,” you said, leaning against your bedroom wall as he filled the small space with restless energy. “I’m sure you like plenty of things too.”

There it was. The little roll of the shoulders and flex of a hand that told you Din wasn’t as inexperienced as some would believe.

“Never tried something like this,” he mumbled, and you smiled under the knowledge that he was nervous. Din Djarin, feared throughout the galaxy, and dearer friend than you ever expected, had something he wanted and didn't know how to ask for.

“Would you like to try it?” you said, taking the last barrier away. He tilted the helmet down, fingers restless on his hip.

“Yes.”

That first night you didn’t fuck him, though by the end he was so close to begging you almost came from the sound. Instead you opened him up with your fingers, got him used to the feeling of fullness and how to connect it to pleasure, while he laid on your bed and gripped the sheets so hard you thought he’d rip them. His pants bunched across his thighs, you got to admire the cords of muscle rippling as you made him shake and choke. His cock, velvety and weeping on his stomach, made your mouth water, but you only offered to suck it when he was just on the precipice. Your hot mouth wrapping around his head, two clever fingers stroking his prostate, tipped him over into bliss as he shouted his completion. Pride swelled in your chest at his belabored breath, chestplate heaving and thighs quivering on either side of your head.

When you returned from cleaning up he was already dressed again, despite your protests to wait and let you ease him down from this new experience. He thanked you, awkwardly, and left quickly. Lying in the same bed that night, still smelling of him, you reasoned with yourself. He probably had a lot of feelings to sort out, both around his pleasure and the fact that you gave it to him. You hoped he trusted you enough to know you’d be discreet. And, as your fingers slid into your underwear, you hoped he’d seek you out again.

It was only a week before you were at the same spaceport again, his heavy boots clanking up your ramp. You tried to hide your own nerves, but when Din stood before you and let the visor drag up and down your body, a delicious grin crept onto your face.

“Ready to try more?”

Indeed he was.

He enters your ship without preamble, a brief flit of concern clouding your features at how quickly he disarmed your security measures. You weren’t expecting him for another hour. He must have jumped to get to you.

It’s thrilling, to know the Mandalorian’s need is so great.

But when he enters and closes the door behind him, the energy is…off. Not seductive, teasing, edged like the other times. No, he’s holding his body so tight and so still. There’s nothing aggressive in it, but you glimpse why his enemies fear him. Without a face, and with so much obscuring the flesh beneath, you’re not sure when he’ll strike.

He catches you rummaging through your drawer, the strap in your hand. Assessing, you give him a gentler smile than usual, hands visible, softening your stance.

“Hello, Din.”

He nods, quickly, unbuckling his belt and yanking his cape free. Both fall to the floor carelessly. You press on.

“How about you tell me what you want?” you say, watching him carefully as he opens his pants plaquet. The mouthwatering strip of skin you covet peeks from beneath his top.

“Just need…need this,” he says, and while naturally a man of few words you’d taught him to be more vocal in this respect.

“Okay, Din. How about you kneel on the bed and we start there?” Your voice lowers into a soothing register, reaching for his arm.

“No,” he almost shouts, startling your hand back. He recovers. “No, I want…” You can practically hear him licking his lips on a sigh, slowing himself down. “Can you sit against the headboard?”

Brows raised, you nod. He’s never ridden you before, always preferring to let you take him from behind or on his back. Pulling the strap-on over your leggings, you settle against the headboard and wait for him. He doesn’t take long, kneeling on the bed briefly in contemplation before swinging over your lap. Shucking his pants half down his legs, you can’t resist a giggle.

“Might be better to take them off,” you tease, letting your hands lay featherlight on his hips. A huff crackles through the vocoder but he doesn’t move to disrobe further.

“I’ll open you up a bit first,” you say, one hand reaching for lube while the other snakes its way to his hole. You encounter surprising slickness, but he’s nowhere as warmed up as you get him.

“S’okay, I took care of it,” he mumbles, both hands coming up to grip the headboard above your head. Slicking lube on the dildo, you move to finger him enough to ease your way in.

“Just a little more…”

“I’m fine.”

The curt retort snaps your face to the helmet, now more of a cowled chin and shining halo of beskar above your head. There’s something bubbling uncomfortably under the surface, something you feel the need to drag out by the scruff of the neck, but it’s Din. You never talk feelings with Din. Frankly, you barely talk at all during, or after, any of your nights together.

“Sorry,” he breathes, forcing relaxation. “I’m ready. Please.”

Your eyes linger for a moment longer, then you circle the base of your cock in waiting.

He descends slowly, gritted breaths and sharp blasts of air from his nose echoing above you. You watch the strain in his thighs as he sinks and sinks, his cock only half-hard against his stomach. Leaving a hand on one hip, you stroke soothing paths up and down his lower back, watching for discomfort. Instead he’s marble around you, coiled, body not releasing as usual. Normally when you fuck him he dissolves, rolling his hips back onto you and choking out praises of how good you feel.

None of that comes. He meets the base of your cock and immediately slides back up at an almost punishing pace. He can’t be that acclimated yet, and his pained hisses and grunts only make that more apparent.

“Din, slow down,” you request, hands firmer on his hips to try and even his pace. If he heard you he says nothing, now slamming his hips down on your cock. “Din,” you beseech again, nails starting to dig in. His grunts grow to growls, something from the heat of battle, your headboard creaking from his crushing grip.

Clarity overtakes you, the shudder of his stomach and forceful downstrokes only getting more intense. There wasn’t pleasure in this. Something is eating up Din inside and he’s trying to fuck it out of himself. And he’s using you to do that.

“Din Djarin, STOP.”

The echo of your voice, strong and steely, finally brings Din to a stop with your cock buried deep in his ass. His chest heaves in front of you, limbs quivering from the exertion, but he’s as still as he can be. Gripping his chestplate, you push him back enough to look him in the visor, your anger righteously reflected back.

“You don’t punish yourself with my cock,” you order, teeth clenched and seething. “Do you think so little of me, that I’d just let you rip yourself to shreds without a word?”

Din freezes, but this time you know it’s shame. If you were in a clearer headspace you might have tried reassurance, or asked him to lay beside you and talk about what’s destroying him, but you’re just too upset.

“Is that all you come to me for?” you spit out, knuckles aching from gripping his armor. He’s silent for long enough that you consider throwing him out before he speaks.

“Something happened. And I just want to…be empty. To not think about it every moment.” He leans forward and your visage warps as he presses his forehead to the crown of your head. The anger thrums but starts to ebb as he folds around you. “I didn’t know where else to go. You’ve always taken care of me. More than I deserve.”

The sadness in his voice is palpable, and even with your mouth still sour from his deception you find the compassion to wrap your arms around his middle. The chestplate presses into your cheek, a metronome for Din’s slowing breaths.

“If you have any care in your heart for me, don’t ever do that again,” you grit out. Din’s breath catches.

“I care for you,” he says, and a door in your heart you never realized was cracked widens for Din’s admission.

“I care for you too, you karking asshole, which is why I want you to say something instead of trying to hate fuck your feelings out.”

Din’s chest begins to shake again, but you’re sure it’s laughter this time. You manage a giggle of your own, letting him lean back and look at you again. The motion shifts your cock in him, and his sharp sigh arches your brow.

“If you wanted to forget, you could have just told me,” you say, rolling your hips sensuously up into his clenching hole. Din’s head drops back, grip tightening on the headboard again as you grind into him.

“Please,” he begs, so soft and vulnerable you can’t help but give him what he needs.

Slowly you press up into him, guiding his hips to rock on your cock. You love the feel of his ass in your hands, well muscled and perfect for grabbing, manhandling him just enough to show he can let go. He follows your direction reluctantly at first, but as you plant your feet and start thrusting with more range he loosens. You can feel it in his arms, holding on to the headboard for dear life, and the building rhythm of his hips meeting yours. For a man whose life is violence, you never want to bring that into your sessions. But a light swat on one asscheek pulls the most delicious moan from deep in his chest.

“Fuck,” he groans, bearing down on you even more. Tilting your hips, you arch his back enough that you’re sure to hit his prostate on the next thrust.

“Maker!”

There it is.

“Close your eyes,” you whisper. Waiting a moment, you zero in on that perfect spot inside him and hit it with every one of your thrusts. “Do you feel that? Feel how good I’m fucking you?”

“Yes, fuck,” Din curses, one hand flitting down to squeeze the base of his cock. He’s at full attention now, head bobbing against your stomach. You swell with pride that he’s having to stave off his orgasm so quickly, but you’ll be the one to make those decisions now.

“All I want you to think about is how good you feel,” you purr, tugging his hand away and replacing it with your own. You long for his skin against yours, so you pull up your shirt to skim the head of his cock against your soft belly. He chokes, stuttering away but he’s trapped between your hand and thighs.

“Wait, Maker, I’ll cum if you…” he garbles, but his body keeps meeting your grinds. You shush him gently, stroking from base to tip and smearing precum over the head.

“You will, but only when I let you. You know I’ll make it good for you, make nothing but this pleasure you’re feeling fill that head of yours.” His rapid nod almost knocks you in the head with the beskar, but he manages to tuck into your neck instead. The helmet is a shocking cool against your skin, but the act of burrowing into you must be rewarded. Bringing your arms around him, you press along the length of his body, trapping his cock between.

“I’m gonna pound into this tight ass until you cum all over us. You like that?” The wail Din lets out shoots heat to your cunt, wishing more than anything that you’d opted for a toy that gave you a little stimulation too. Instead you hammer fast and hard, barely pulling out. Your hips and thighs burn with exertion at his bulk on top of you, but he’s frantically bouncing back and rutting his cock into the wet mess your bodies make.

“Don’t stop,” he gasps, and you’re not sure if it’s the vocoder but you think his voice sounds watery. “Please, cyar’ika, don’t stop.”

Cupping the back of his neck, damp with sweat, you whisper, “I’ve got you.”

With a handful of final pumps you’re coated in his cum, sliding around your belly as he seizes over and over. Pressing deep, you hold strong against his shuddering body as he finishes. Each weakening thrust draws him down on you, heavier and loose-limbed.

The armor makes it hard to find the soft spots, so you take to kneading the back of his neck and palming his spine. Before his last aftershock, you urge him higher on his knees so you can slip your cock out - slowly, so as not to shock his jellying body. Easing him down, you hold his head in the crook of your neck and settle him on your lap. His hands slide down from the headboard to your shoulders.

Then you hear it. A tiny sniff, then another. You can’t pretend you didn’t notice them so close to your ear. So you gather the broad man in your arms and hold him. His hands don’t know where to rest, finally winding loosely around your lower back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” you tell him again, and the sniffing starts to recede. His body, however, slumps against yours, and it takes all of your strength not to start giggling.

You fucked the Mandalorian right to sleep. Bravo to you.

When Din finally stirs, a deep rumble in his throat, it’s been almost an hour. Your toes are half numb and you’re dying to shift into any other position, but much like a lothcat falling asleep on your lap, you couldn’t bear to move Din. Especially when he started snoring, one of the most endearing and hilarious sounds you’d ever heard him make.

In the time he slept you wondered what happened. What terrible thing hollowed him out and haunts him. Something keeps him up at night, if the depth of his sleep is any indication. Recent, possibly. Traumatic.

Your breath caught in your throat. If something happened to Grogu you know he would have told you. You ask after him all the time, teasing that you’ll be his Auntie (Din always says he has plenty of them across the galaxy).

Had you seen the Razor Crest fly up? Where was that old bird anyway?

What happened in the time since Din last saw you?

The cycle of possibilities always ends the same. Maybe he cares for you in some way, but not enough for you to ask. No matter how much you want to.

A shift on your lap alerts you to Din waking, kneading his shoulders and neck lightly to alert him to your presence. He’s never slept with you before, but it wouldn’t surprise you to learn that he’s quick to draw at unexpected circumstances. Of which this one definitely is.

“What…” Din croaks, and if not for the helmet you would have offered him water.

“It’s okay, you’re on my ship. You’re okay.”

It takes Din another minute to realize what’s happened. Him, half naked on your lap with your strap pressing against his ass. You, covered in drying cum beneath him. In a flash he’s swinging his leg off your lap, attempting to stand but obviously they’ve gone as numb as yours because he stumbles and crashes out of sight.

“Oh kriff, are you…?” you start to ask, but as quick as he’s out of sight he pops back up again, tugging up his pants and tucking himself away.

“Sorry, that was…I didn’t mean to…do that.”

All of the heaviness and anger and lust fizzles away to laughter as you try to suppress the ridiculousness of the moment. After a moment of indigent head tilting Din’s shoulder also shake, chuckles fuzzing out of the vocoder.

“Oh Maker, what an understatement that is,” you sigh, wiping your stomach with the edge of your bedsheets. Din visibly cringes, hands on his hips.

“Sorry for the mess,” he apologizes, but you wave it off.

“I’ve had much worse, believe me,” you shoot back. Clean enough, you sit on the edge of the bed and look up at the inscrutable man.

“Want to talk about it?”

Din’s stance shifts, helmet tipping down for a moment before coming back to your face.

“...Not yet.”

You hum and nod. “Well, you know how to find me if you do.”

Din nods. “Thank you.”

As he picks up his effects you shimmy off the harness at the foot of the bed, mentally ticking through the steps to clean everything. Din watches you set it down, stilling until your eyes come back to him.

“It gives you pleasure as well?” he asks, which raises one of your eyebrows.

“I mean, about as much as rhythmically hitting your hips against someone can do.” His posture changes into something hard to decipher, so you continue. “I’ve got a few that do more for me, but it depends on the person I’m with. Comfort, boundaries. As you’re well aware.” You gesture to the armor, his chin tucking down to look at it.

“So you’ve never cum with me?” he asks, and a sudden feverish heat blooms under your skin. Din has a sex appeal you appreciate, but have never acted on beyond what he’s asked for. Now, something’s changed so dizzyingly fast you’re scrambling.

“Well, you’re pretty spent after our sessions. And you leave quickly. I don’t ask for more than you can give.”

Din takes a step towards you, putting his belt and cloak back down.

“What do you ask of other people you fuck?”

Your heart hammers in your chest. How can he turn the tables so quickly and spectacularly? Trying to gain the upper hand, you pull a confident face on and speak as breezily as possible.

“Most can’t get it up twice after I fuck them within an inch of their life, so fingers, tongues, toys, any and all of the above are excellent ways to repay the favor.”

He’s even closer now, and the facade is barely holding up. It’s like the vulnerability he showed you can’t possibly be returned.

“You’ve never asked me,” he says, and you can’t believe there’s a note of regret in his voice. The bed hits the back of your legs, and you steady your voice even though those words make your pussy throb.

“I didn’t think it was allowed.” Your voice drops low as Din steps into your space.

“Difficult, but not forbidden.” Din’s hands come to your shoulders. “Sit down, please.”

Your knees fold so fast you bounce on the bed, looking up at him. He joins you on one knee, hands coming to rest on your thighs.

“I broke my Creed. I would do it again, for the exact same reason, but now that makes me an apostate.” His hands come to the helmet, thumbs tucking underneath the lip.

“Din, what happened?”

He pauses, and you swear you can feel his gaze through that smoky visor.

“Close your eyes.”

Darkness surrounds you, then a hiss and a thunk.

Then the voice of a man you care for, unfiltered and bare.

“I’m not ready for anyone to see my face. But I want this, with you. If you can forgive me.”

You could be dreaming still. It would make just as much sense.

“I forgive you, Din. But just this once,” you sneak in at the end just to hear how melodic his laugh sounds. Then his hand splays over your stomach and urges you to lie back.

“I hope you don’t mind teaching me this. I don’t have much experience,” he says, fire licking through your body as he tugs your leggings and underwear off.

“Don’t worry, you’re a quick learner,” you say breathily.

And when he finally kisses you, sweet with your musk on his tongue and your orgasm dripping from his fingers, you teach him how to do that as well.

END

"I need some distraction Oh a beautiful release Memories seep from my veins Let me be empty Oh and weightless and maybe I'll find some peace tonight.

Sarah McLachlan, Angel (yeah I know I used the sad dog song)

#PMAMC 2024 #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #prolix fics

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demonioenelespacio · 2 years ago

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I really love how s2 of Good Omens is written, because you have so many clues about what is going to happen at the end, the offer, the motivations behind the choices of all the characters… You have everything on the plate to cook an amazing recipe.

You start the season with them as angels and end it with an offer to be both angels again (just like s1 started and ended with a Garden). You get a brief glimpse of The angel who became Crowley, we get to see how they were so passionate about their work, you can see their joy. I mean, look at them

Can you really blame Aziraphale for thinking that the offer is amazing? When that could mean that Crowley is this happy again.

But… The spark that our demon is missing is innocence, and that’s something Crowley can’t get back, ever (unless they delete his memory??).

Crowley is bitter and angry and anxious, but we know he can experience that joy from Before, because we can see that when he is making it rain for Maggie and Nina. We saw a real smile.

Aziraphale didn’t.

But the offer is not because he wants to change Crowley, because he knows who Crowley is now and loves him as he is. And because he knows that Crowley is still the same caring and kind being he was Before.

“I know you”

“You do not know me”

“I know the angel you were”

“The angel you knew is not me”

Yeah, it’s true, but that scene is to show Azira that he is still kind, he didn't kill the sheep, he is not going to kill the children. So, yes, Crowley isn’t that Angel, but the core is the same in the end.

There is also the fact that… Do you think Aziraphale ever thinks about how he planted the seeds of Crowley's Fall?

This is the face of an angel who is going to end the career of another angel WITHOUT REALISING IT.

That Angel didn’t know about Earth, about humans, about the Great Plan, they were busy making stars. If Aziraphale had never told them that, would Crowley have thought of asking questions?

First offence and all of that… How unfair. How could Aziraphale make it right again?

The “Exactly” scene is so important. They are so stupid (affectionary).

They mean the same thing (We can be together) but saying different things; a phrase (Nothing lasts forever) meaning different things for each of them. They don’t talk, they don’t really speak each other's language.

Also, the final scene is more painful, but we have the same argument in ep1:

“Oh, right, this is how you wanna do it?”

“No, I would love you to help me! I’m asking you to help me take care of (Heaven). But if you won’t, you won’t”

*Crowley leaves*

How can they have broken up so many times without ever being together (screams).

In ep1 we also have the two little mini half-miracles. And I have read some people take that as how powerful Crowley is, but come on. This Big Miracle is clearly because they are working together, the two of them together are more powerful than anything else. And boy, that rang an alarm in my head when I first watched the season, because… Crowley said in s1 that they will be waiting for the next Big Thing, this war "Heaven and Hell vs. Humanity". You want the best in your team, right?

Because if they are not… they can be against you.

So, yeah, I saw Metatron and was like “ok, here we go”. And look, his offer is to Aziraphale, because he is an angel, but Metatron doesn’t blink an eye before mentioning Crowley too. He wants both. But whatever, if Crowley doesn’t want to go to Heaven, if Heaven only gets Azirphale, well, success either way! Because if you separate the two of them, they are no longer a threat .

Also the fly, flying around very very noisy. You have Beelzebub saying they want Gabriel surrendered to them and acting a bit weird. All the clues there (I must confess I didn't expect the ship to be canon, I just thought they might be talking more lol. A nice win).

All this just thinking about episode 1.

The last thing I want to touch is Maggie and Nina talking to Crowley before the confession. Because… They told us what was going to happen.

They can’t be together, because Nina has to get over her previous toxic relationship before she is ready, and then, only then, they can try, if Maggie waits (she will wait).

Aziraphale has to get over his toxic relationship with Heaven before he is ready, and then, only then, they can try, if Crowley waits (he will wait).

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens s2 #good omens analysis #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #metatron #good omens s2 spoilers #my stuff

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brittscafe · 1 year ago

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hiii! i really really really like REALLY loved your content, especially jjk ones bcs it helps me A LOT with my sadness while watching S2 lolll

can i request a fic?? nanami x fem!reader - reader starts overthinking about their relay with nanami that seemed distant rn bcs nanami always comes back home late with his constant overtime BUT nanami doesn't notice about it. so, one night there's just an argument about this and nanami accidentally slips off 'i never ask you to stay with me' in which hurts reader A LOT - eventually leads nanami to his realization and they finally make up when they're about to sleep (nanami saying sorry while hugging from behind and asking reader to snuggle with him)

i'm sorry if there's too much angst 😭 and i'm sorry if there are grammatical errors since eng isn't my first language 🙏🏻 but i really hope you will take this into consideration hehe

Hi! Thank you!!! <3 Really missing Nanami rn 😩 Sorry, this literally took me forever to writeeee

Nanami Kento is the hardest worker you know. He's always staying late at work and doing overtime. He doesn't seem to notice how it effects you though.

The endless nights you stay awake, sitting at the counter and your foot repeatedly tapping the ground below your, your right leg shaking rapidly.

The nervous build up in your stomach that makes you nauseous and your head spin. Of course, Nanami always comes home to you, but he's distant and you can't hide the way you feel any longer.

The front door clicks open and Nanami's tall figure walks inside, a deadpan expression on his face.

"Hey Nanami...can we talk?" you speak up quietly. Nanami's eyes meet yours for a split second and his breath hitches in his throat.

"Sure," he nods his head, setting his suitcase down. You shift your weight in the chair that you're sitting in and clear your throat.

"I have to be honest, I'm a little upset with you. You constantly work overtime and I stay up all night waiting up for you," you sigh out and Nanami cocks an eyebrow.

"You don't have to wait up for me. I've told you that multiple times, y/n. You know that I work late," Nanami explains with a firm voice that brings you little to no comfort.

"I know, but I feel like I'm being treated unfairly. I wish you would spend more time with me after work, especially since I spend most of mine time here alone. It's not fair," you explain, a frown tugging on your face.

Nanami shifts his weight and crosses his arms over his chest.

"I never asked you to stay with me." his words are cruel and cut into your feelings like a sharp knife. Your eyes widen and your mouth gapes open.

Wow.

You stare at Nanami in disbelief and the tears start to well up in your eyes. You tear your gaze away from Nanami and lower your head down, trying to swallow your hurt.

"Ok," you mumble out underneath your breath, walking off and into your bedroom.

Nanami blinks with confusion and clears his throat, shaking it off as he sits down on the couch. His mind ponders on what he did wrong as he chews on his bottom lip.

A heavy sigh falls from his lips and he runs his fingers through his hair with frustration.

An hour or so passes and it's bedtime. The door clicks open to your shared bedroom and Nanami's eyes lock onto you in your pjs. You glance over at him over your shoulder as you pull back the comforter.

The room is silent and Nanami clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

"Y/n," he calls out, his voice barely above a whisper. You easily hear his voice, but ignores it. Nanami steps closer to you, clearing his throat.

"Y/n," he speaks again, this time his voice louder and clearer. You glance over at him, curling the comforter up in your fists and letting out an annoyed sigh.

"What?" you mumble out.

"I didn't mean what I said earlier. It just slipped out," Nanami speaks calmly and you chew on your bottom lip.

"I thought you didn't want me to stay with you," you scoff quietly, scowling back at him. Nanami face drops and he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around your waist.

He pulls your back into your chest and nuzzles his head onto your shoulder. You can feel his warm breath on your neck and it sends a chill down your spine.

"I'm sorry, my dear. I do want you to stay with me. I promise," he speaks softly, his voice comforting you. You release the tight grip that you have on the comforter and grab onto Nanami's forearms.

"Ok," you nod your head.

"Do you forgive me? Please? You know I can't go to bed without you," Nanami begs you, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. You giggle as his lips tickle your skin and the sound of your laughter makes Nanami's lips curl up into a tiny grin.

"Yes, I forgive you, Kento. Come here," you whisper, spinning around and gathering him in your arms. Nanami's arms wrap around your back and flatten against them.

You run your fingers through his blonde hair, massaging his scalp as you two fall back into the bed. Nanami's legs are spread out across the bed as he lays on top of you, his head resting on your chest.

He listens to the rhythm of your steady heartbeat as you warm hands running up and down his back make his eyelids heavy.

He's so thankful for you and that you spend so much time with you and staying up late.

Nanami asks you to move in with him a few days later...

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wingedshadowfan · 3 months ago

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⚠️arcane s2 act ii spoilers⚠️

listen to me and listen well. i'm gonna analyze the caitvi breakup scene conflict in detail (and tell y'all why caitlyn is not the villain y'all paint her out to be)

first of all, caitlyn has every reason in the world to hate jinx and want her gone. there are more neutral reasons like the fact caitlyn is a police officer and jinx is a threat to piltover and zaun's law and order, any material property she can reach and basically everyone around her bcuz she's insane, unstable and more than capable of causing damage. then there are deeply personal reasons: jinx tried to blow up caitlyn and vi on multiple occasions, kidnapped caitlyn (god knows what she did to her before vi joined the tea party, but other fans have pointed out cait was so traumatized she went from not exhibiting any fear of jinx before to shuddering when seeing her after), tried to get vi to kill caitlyn, killed her "father" silco on accident, blew up the council, killing caitlyn's literal mother among others and causing injuries and damages. caitlyn at this point might even believe jinx is the one who organized the massacre at the statue reveal ceremony. she even acknowledges how easily jinx's actions and the trauma they've caused her have undone a lot of the work caitlyn has put with the help of vi by her side into seeing zaunites as people despite the way she was raised. all of her anger at jinx for this, for taking her mother, for all the pain she's caused, even her fear make caitlyn desparate. she starts taking more drastic measures in order to catch jinx like using more violence/threats towards innocents, which is the one thing vi tries to address with her. caitlyn promises she won't change. but she already has, as an unconscious and natural reaction to what she's experienced.

earlier, caitlyn doesn't offer vi the police badge just bcuz she's mentally stripped vi's zaunite identity from her and now sees her as a topsider and one of "the good ones" (i bet she's started to do that too, as alluded to by maddie's words abt caitlyn saying vi went after silco alone, but caitlyn does this just so she can compartmentalize better and separate her lover vi here next to her, from her mother's killer jinx who's taken so much from her in zaun), but also bcuz she needs vi's help to get through zaun and find jinx. as she's just lost someone, she badly wants to be able to keep vi close, on her squad, in her line of sight, in order to protect her and make sure nothing happens to her on the potentially deadly task of finding and eliminating jinx. (i want to add smth else here: notice how vi feels guilt for failing to keep others safe and feels responsible for protecting the people around her, so she tries to distance herself from them, like not letting powder go with the big kids, and fights short range, keeping enemies close to her and away from her allies so they can't get hurt. caitlyn does the opposite, she's a long range sharpshooter so she tries to keeps her loved ones as close to her as possible under her watchful gaze, far from her enemies.) it's never implied she wants vi to be a cop forever, or perform any such duties outside of this jinx mission. she's still at fault for not understanding what putting on the uniform would mean to vi - a betrayal of her family, her home, everything she's ever known and loved until now, which vi isn't ready for and caitlyn can't rightfully ask of her. yet vi doesn't say that to caitlyn (and continues to not say anything when their squad of misfits starts gassing up the undercity) and takes it because she sees no other way. she knows her chances alone against jinx aren't looking good.

vi can't bring herself to kill her sister (despite the fact that she's mostly gone, incredibly dangerous, unstable and could've easily killed vi and caitlyn - even accidentally, like she killed silco) and doesn't want her to die either. we can even look at what caitlyn thinks needs to be done with jinx and what vi thinks needs to be done with jinx as a cultural difference betw the two bcuz in zaun where survival is essential, family is everything, you're bound together by what you've been through and you need each other to survive so you don't just cut family off, you don't judge them harshly, leave them or turn them in, but in piltover where that's not the case, there are laws and people who serve to enforce them like caitlyn so if you're a bad person who's done bad things, there's a way for you to be dealt with. vi doesn't realize she wouldn't be able to kill jinx or let herself feel that way bcuz of the amount of guilt she harbors for "creating jinx" and the responsibility she carries for jinx's actions (smth she internalized bcuz of vander teaching her that as a leader she's responsible for whoever chooses to follow her) - again, jinx stealing the hexcore, kidnapping/torturing cait, almost killing the two of them, blowing up the council, etc. so she offers to deal with jinx herself, which caitlyn doesn't want, knowing first hand what jinx is capable of and maybe even suspecting vi's weakness before vi can - caitlyn even says that she's scared that if either of them goes after jinx alone, she'll return in a box. and instead of listening to her own feelings and telling caitlyn about them, vi again decides to "toughen it out" and pull through with it. she tries to seem stronger, more ready and certain when she tells caitlyn to take the shot, but her fear of being faced with having to kill jinx becomes even more evident in the fact she basically indirectly asks caitlyn to do it for her so she doesn't have to.

when the fight breaks out, the danger is very real. sevika can take caitlyn down easily as she's a long range shooter, not a close combat fighter. while cait's fighting tooth and nail, jinx and vi are dancing around each other the way teen girls fight compared to other fights they've had (jinx hitting with her wrists, vi stumbling, etc). they're not fighting to the death bcuz they don't want the other to die. when vi finally pins jinx, who's seemed quite normal until now btw, as if she's finally in her right mind (like smth in that mind can be salvaged), vi notably hesitates. a lot. and before she does anything or moves so caitlyn can shoot, isha jumps between vi and jinx with a gun to vi's head. and here's where i need y'all to be fucking for real. the fear and anger caitlyn must've experienced in that moment are what made her completely lose it, i bet she fully had an out of body experience. now, caitlyn isn't a great shot, she's an excellent shot. if she shoots the gun out of this kid's hand, she saves vi from her brains being blown out of her head. if she misses, worst case scenario, she takes this kid's hand out. she takes the fucking shot to save vi's life, a calculated risk even if she does it rather on reflex. we even see how the bullet flies way closer to vi than to the kid because she's self correcting potential aim errors away from the kid.

now that the kid isn't pointing a weapon in vi's face anymore, instead of pulling the kid from jinx and hauling ass so caitlyn can shoot again safely (see: bcuz she doesn't want jinx to die), vi stands up and starts telling caitlyn not to shoot, even getting in front of her. caitlyn is verbally but not really mentally responsive to her surroundings in this moment, that's how gone she is. her vision tunnels onto jinx and she tries to keep shooting until sevika pulls the lever and we exit combat. vi reasonably confronts caitlyn for shooting at a kid (after caitlyn stops hitting the wall like a woman gone), which she only does because of her fear for vi and fear of jinx (and what she might do next, or if they let her get away) because she feels betrayed, since caitlyn just told her she wouldn't change. she did changed - she became more brutal, but she'd already changed long ago, when she lost her courage, her mother, her progress and when she came to love vi.

and now it's caitlyn's turn to confront vi. vi didn't have the guts to tell her she can't kill jinx, that she can't wear the uniform, that she's not okay with gassing zaun up, and even encouraged her to shoot, so cait was under the impression that this was it. that they were going to end jinx for good. when she says "i thought you were different but you're not", of course she might mean she thought vi was "better" than other zaunites, but i think perhaps even more than that, she means she thought vi had also been changed in the same way by the trauma jinx had caused caitlyn, that she'd finally let go of her hope powder was still somewhere inside jinx and realized how truly destructive and dangerous jinx is and how that necessitates killing her. while vi is immunized against the terrors, caitlyn has never experienced anything like this in her life, which is why she doesn't understand why vi doesn't understand, why she wants jinx to live despite everything.

while vi doesn't seem to understand, she's ready to try to. she's let her guard (and gauntlets) down, she's open and attempting to talk to caitlyn who has shut off completely and refuses to even look her in the eyes (which is one of the primary ways in which caitlyn connects to people). vi tries to stop her from leaving and caitlyn strikes her, as hard as she can, purposefully hitting her in her stab wound which she helped vi recover from herself - almost as if condemning their past relationship and everything they've been through. not only does that physically bring vi, someone used to taking hits, to her knees - it completely incapacitates her and breaks her heart. she can't even follow. she's officially lost the last good thing she had, the one person who cared about her.

both of them are left feeling betrayed and hurt. some of these conflicts could've been avoided by simple communication, others were by design of who they are and where they come from.

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