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#but the core is so good that those things become what they are —only the endearing and funny trappings of her expression
bberry005 · 3 days
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thinking way too hard about this page from kanan: the last padawan and how much it shows about him as a character during rebels and also how that relates to ezra and their sacrifices at the end of the show
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it's clear from the first episode of rebels that kanan has no qualms about attachment in general, which is a stark difference from most of the other jedi that we see. he cares freely and openly and deeply about all the members of the ghost crew. he might care too much at the beginning, but that's part of his journey as a jedi that we see throughout the show.
"you must not grow too attached, too fond, too in love with life as it is now" is a fundamental thing that kanan must remember during season 2 of rebels. because he DID become too attached to his life as it was with the ghost crew running around lothal, and when they join up with the larger rebel fleet, he doesn't like it and dislikes how things are changing. he has to relearn the ability to adapt and change before he's declared a jedi knight in the season 2 finale.
part of being a jedi is loving enough to know when it's time to go, which is something that kanan mastered. he and ezra leave at the end of season 2 to protect the rest of the rebellion, he teaches ezra to let sabine go with her family on mandalore, he helps hera reconcile with her past on ryloth. through love and attachment, kanan also learned sacrifice. he lost everything as he became kanan jarrus instead of caleb dume. he was forced to leave behind all the attachments of his former life in order to survive. he didn't learn to do that necessarily, he was forced into it out of necessity, which is very different than him consciously learning how to let go during rebels.
in rebels, kanan leaves by choice. in season 2, he knows that leaving is necessary to the survival of the rebellion. in season 4, he's standing on top of the fuel tank and holding back the explosion and he probably wants nothing more than to try and go with hera, ezra, and sabine. because that's his FAMILY. he loves them more than anything, but he knows that if he does not let go, they will not survive.
so he does. he sees them one last time, and then he lets them go and sacrifices himself to save them all, and in a way, this was the last lesson he ever taught ezra
its no secret that their sacrifices were meant to mirror each other, but here's the images again for reference
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in his final moments, kanan teaches ezra about sacrifice. yes, you must love and feel and experience life, but to be a jedi knight, you must be able to master those feelings and do what you must for the greater good. in his actions, kanan was essentially repeating what depa told him when he was a padawan. "you must not grow too attached, too fond, too in love with life as it is now. those emotions are valuable and must not be surpressed, but you must learn to rule them lest they rule you". ezra fully learns that lesson during "Dume" when he leaves the memory of kanan's death behind in the world between worlds and learns to stop his attachment from going too far.
and also like...kanan's life had FINALLY worked out when he died. hera just said that she loved him, they're back on lothal ready to free their home from the empire, he's figured out this whole jedi thing, and he may or may not know that hera is pregnant with their child depending on your interpretation. but he must let go. he cannot let his love and attachment stop him from doing what must be done for the greater good. he saves them, but he also leads to the empire blowing up their own fuel depot, which is the only reason the rebels can take back lothal. he put his purpose (saving the galaxy) over his feelings (because there was definitely a part of him screaming to go with his family, but he was able to control it in order to see the bigger picture)
the jedi fight for peace and the greater good, which at it's core requires immense selflessness and sacrifice and a clear head acting on logic rather than emotion. kanan and ezra were learning that together throughout the whole show, and one last time, kanan teaches ezra a jedi lesson that he finally figured out through trying to guide ezra through it
"but remember, caleb, the galaxy is far from static, and as it changes, a jedi's role in it too must evolve." jedi were keepers of the peace, then they were generals, then they were scattered teenagers who didn't know what to do in the wake of order 66, and now? now they are rebel fighters, once again getting at the heart of what it is to be a jedi. to be a jedi is to love, to sacrifice, to keep the peace. kanan and ezra show why jedi are KNIGHTS and not diplomats. they fight for peace, but they know it is just that: a bloody, brutal, violent fight, and that those fights require sacrifice in order to keep going. they both embody luthen's line from andor where he says "i burn my life for a sunrise i will never get to see", which is also a perfect way to think about why the jedi fight for peace. they really believe in it, and are willing to lay down their lives to make a peace that will never be achieved in their lifetimes.
(what's also crazy is that in this episode, we're essentially shown that kanan jarrus has found caleb dume again and therefore reconnected with his jedi past but that's a post for a whole other day)
i have so many feelings about this that basically boil down to: rebels is so well written and so underrated and kanan and ezra teach us far more about what the ideal jedi should be than any of the skywalker saga main characters (WHICH IS A VERY HOT TAKE I KNOW but it's my take)
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itspileofgoodthings · 9 months
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So sorry if this is bothering you but so curious as well... why do you hate Guts?
Thanks for your time ❤
you’re not bothering me!
I think the simplest way to answer this is with one of Olivia’s own lyrics from pretty isn’t pretty when she sings “none of it matters and none of it ends” because. That is kind of her whole ethos about how life works. She believes that! And so her work, to me, is profoundly cynical and self-absorbed because it can’t point to anything bigger (none of it matters) so it revolves purely around her own feelings. It won’t ever situate itself in a wider picture. And I love whining in a song tbh. I love when an artist captures those uglier emotions —the discontent, the restlessness, the irritation, the blandness and staleness of it all and the railing against it—because those are all part of the human experience. I am continually shocked—it is shoCKING—by how many negative emotions I can and do experience over and over again. But it is thankfully against the backdrop of reality. My bad moods are something that can be so unpleasant to feel and so ugly to witness—I wrestle with how ugly and small my suffering is—but there is a way in which, all discourse about the validity of any and all of my feelings accounted for, those aren’t real. Just symptoms of my suffering and sometimes my convalescence (lol, love a symptom of convalescence) but reality is still always so much realer. It’s always ready to break in a million times a day; the beauty and sturdiness of reality, the texture of existence, as Flannery O’Connor once said, is always there and with enough time (and with patience and help and love) I can get back to contact with it. Not just the state of my own mind full of bitterness and worry and pain, endlessly stewing in its own unhappiness.
I am not good at that, it takes a lot to get me there. But I guess my point is—to circle back—Olivia’s music doesn’t try and doesn’t want to. Its scope is so narrow, every song no matter how pleasing at first eventually sours (lololololol) because it’s JUST rooted in her own experience, generally her own suffering. And there’s no sharpness or cleverness in the world (she can be both sharp and clever!) that can hide that lack of range. So you hear a song once—for me, it was brutal—-and you’re like YEAH. I recognize this kind of whininess because I’ve felt it before. There is something true to it! But the more she writes the more you watch her do it over and over again (sonically, too, she loves to speak-talk and tbh they’re just sub-par remixes of brutal) the more you start to be like “oh, is that it? We’re not going anywhere with this? There’s no turn or catharsis or bridge or anything that lifts us out of this even for a second?” and it’s just —blegh.
And the thing is there doesn’t even have to be, like, some triumphant girlboss victory where she feels better. I’m not saying her songs are bad because they’re sad and depressing. It’s that they establish no outside contact with reality. They are, for all her clever little film-noir references or whatever, only ever self-referential. And that gets old so fast no matter who is talking.
#yes of course I contrast her with Taylor#Taylor can be beautifully petty and restless and sad and insecure and her songs are never just about her#They are always situated in a broader picture of reality. They go down to the roots of things. Of humanity and love and the human condition#and it’s just. It’s so much bigger. It is not stifling#and that’s the staying power and that’s the inherent hopefulness she has and that’s her desire to know the truth and speak the truth#Even when she’s getting it wrong it’s all still there#anyway it’s funny because Taylor gets accused of what Olivia actually is doing so much more than Olivia#people love to pretend that Taylor is a wallower and self-indulgent#and yes there’s a very human humanity to the expression of her emotions. There IS brattiness there is anger#but the core is so good that those things become what they are —only the endearing and funny trappings of her expression#never the heart#it’s why Taylor wears so well and also why sometimes she is jarring on first listen. You can just hear the dissonance (for me too)#But it’s like that one tweet said. Doesn’t matter if you like a taylor song on first listen. You WILL eventually#and it’s so true. And that’s the quality drawing you in#Olivia (and much of gen z tbh) is kind of the opposite: the humanity is in the trappings#She’s fairly easy to listen to and like ….. at first#the humanity and cleverness and beauty such as they are are on the surface#there’s a deceptive ease and an openness that doesn’t actually lead you anywhere#It leaves you empty because it’s just all kind of built on the fumes of a bad mood tbh#turning off reblogs lol#Anyway thank you for asking and giving me this opportunity to speak#all opinions are mine and that’s what they are. If anyone feels differently more power to you. Go forth and enjoy guts#Just putting all my caveats here
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starbuck · 2 years
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i seriously do need to figure out how to be less angry and passive-aggressive, that’s gonna wreak havoc on my future relationships if i don’t nip that in the bud now.
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etherealkissed88 · 1 month
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how i manifest when i feel anxious •°. *࿐
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i decide i have what i want…
when i feel anxiety -> i let it pass while knowing its only a human reaction
◦ since i am beyond just a human (i am limitless imagination/self), i know any anxiety is below me and it has nothing to do with my limitless self. i have exactly what i decided i have, regardless of any anxiety.
know anxiety usually comes from a fear of failure
◦ so, i cannot limit myself based on what i see or what i negatively assume my future will look like bc i am always beyond the 3d, no matter what feelings/anxiety my human self experiences.
◦ i become indifferent/i dont care about what i see or what i assume i will see because i know everything comes together in the 3d once i change self/know its done. fact: everything always comes together and works out in the end. being indifferent to the 3d = being indifferent to emotions, anxiety and everything that doesnt serve you.
dont fight it, dont avoid it, tackle it head on
◦ acknowledge you are experiencing anxiety bc you are. yes it can feel like shit but it doesnt have to affect who you are being (whatever version of self you are embodying). again, i can choose to be indifferent to this anxiety. you dont have to be scared of the anxiety. it is a natural human response. cry if you need to, let it all out. dont try to suppress it bc that will only come to bite you back in the ass, believe me.
◦ take care of your mental health in whatever ways necessary. when i used to experience anxiety, i used to take walks in the park, clear my head, meditate, express myself and my emotions through art and journaling, etc. remember nothing you do (or feel) in the 3d has to affect who you are being/your state.
"how can i still have anxiety yet still be a desired version of me?"
anxiety has no affect on anything unless you allow it to change your identity. you are the one with power, the anxiety is only an experience, similar to breathing in oxygen and using our sense of touch; its all neutral. when you start surrendering to the anxiety, you are creating and accepting negative stories that you create based on the feeling of anxiety. allowing that anxious feeling to change your state/identity is surrendering to something you view as more "powerful" than you. stop transforming that anxiety into a state that you embody based on the false, negative stories u imagine.
remember a 3d experience or anxious feelings doesnt have to influence who you are being. an example: a model who knows (fulfilled) that she is graceful and beautiful can have anxiety about doing her catwalk. the anxiety is normal, she can experience the symptoms of anxiety (shortness of breath, dry mouth, shaking) but her core identity/state is still a graceful model. the anxiety is only a temporary feeling. usually when we experience these feelings, they occupy all of our attention in that moment which is why it seems so scary but in reality, its not that big a deal. know that anxiety is just a feeling. you are safe. you can still experience shitty feelings while knowing you are a bad bitch!
you dont always identify with everything you experience. for example, a lot of people experience good things and still identify as people who are unworthy of good things. so its really up to you to choose what to identify with.
i know my only job is knowing its done
◦ if i just decided its done, as the operant power, as i say goes, therefore its done. so my job is done. anxiety is part of the 3d, not my limitless self, imagination. so i can be indifferent and experience it without identifying with it, the same way people manifest what they desire while experiencing their shitty circumstances daily (because they do not identify with those shitty experiences).
◦ ive heard/experienced situations where we know its done yet we cried and felt like shit, and what we wanted still manifested into the 3d. bc anxiety is only a feeling. do not allow your feelings to take hold of your state, but if it does, its never the end of the world... just get back in the state. 3d shit/anxiety doesnt have to intervene with who you are being/what you identify with.
kisses, jani ☆
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hqkalon · 9 months
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synopsis : your husband refuses to meet your pleasurable needs, so toji takes it upon himself to demonstrate the pleasure you’ve been missing out on.
cont. sex therapist!toji x fem!reader, smut, office sex??, creampie, v. penetration, cheating, slight overstimulation, teasing, thirst tbh, not plot just sex, petnames (pretty, pretty girl, doll), pull out game ?? (weak), mdni +17
an : hehe here it iss @luvfaries !!
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sex therapist toji who’s heard all about you and your husband's struggles when it came to sex. the one thing that set him off was how your husband would bad mouth the things you were into.
"good thing this room's sound proof, otherwise your husband would've heard all those pretty moans i'm stealing from him." toji taunted, whispering against your ear sending shivers down your spine as he pounded into your tight cunt. tummy curling from the continuous strokes against your sweet spot. "s-shut up." you mumbled, trying to hold back an escaping moan as your head rested on the door behind you. remembering there were chairs lined up against the wall of toji's offices— the chairs where your husband was sitting waiting for you come out.
toji couldn't help, but take the opportunity to tease you a little bit. "who's the one that makes you cum when your husband doesn’t?" his hands cupped behind the fold of your knees, pressing your body against the door. you could taste the malice tone hidden behind that sly smile of his, "he's gonna hear, if you do it against the d-" your sentence instantly cut off by nothing other than uncontrollable cries and pleas. "t-tojii!" his hips snapped you back into reality as spirals of heat poured throughout your aching core. "that's my name princess." his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, earning sweet whimpers he fucked you into oblivion. your arms hooked around his broad shoulders, almost babbling incoherent words as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, "fuc- mphhm." toji's palm covered your mouth, muffling all your moans— hearing your phone buzz against the table.
"oh?" responded with a hum as he wrapped your legs around his torso while tightening his hold around your waist, before making his way near the desk— hovering over you as your back lied against the cold surface. "what is it?" guilt shot through your heart as toji's hand slithered up your torso, finding it's place around your thin throat. his eyes darkened with mischief, "oh it's nothing.. just focus on me pretty girl." his hand tightened around your throat, slowly sliding out of your throbbing cunt before slamming back in.
"oh fuck!" you held onto his wrist, hearing the sloppy sound of his dick stroke inside you, forgetting about guilt as he stuffed you full, "that's it." your pussy squeezed around him each time the phone buzzed more. "ya gonna cum knowing yer husband's outside the door?" he teased, watching soft moans fall from your mouth as he fed you each thrust. "y-yeah." you whined, nodding your head—feeling your stomach slowly cave in as he thrusted against your g-spot. "look at me and tell me your gonna make a mess." toji hissed, bullying through your abused walls.
"i'm gonna make a mess!" your tummy tightened as your core bundled together feeling as though you had to pee. "that's right doll." the head of toji's dick grinded against your sweet spot as the hand around your throat cupped your lower cheeks. "and that mess is gonna be on me." his pace sped up, being able to visibly see the white ring coating his dick.
mouth gaped as toji fucked you dumb off his dick, forgetting about your husband on the other side as you moans grew louder. "g'na cumm!" you wantonly cried out— thighs shaking around toji's hips as he grunted feeling your pussy swallow him deeper, "shittt. me too." skin slapping echoed throughout the quiet room filled with nothing, but pants and groans.
"fuck fuck fuckk! cummingg!" you sobbed, becoming a shattering mess— only seeing black and white as your cunt milked his cock dry. "shitt doll." toji's hips steadily rocked into your sensitive hole, cooling off his high as you pulsed around him.
"how about this be our little secret hm?" his pointer finger pressed against his lips— watching you nod in response.
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lovelettersfromluna · 4 months
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Compass
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Summary: I’ve got something to confess, I keep you in my pocket to use. You’re my only compass, I might get lost with you.
an: let’s ignore the fact that I’ve been gone for a long time, yeah? Hehe. this most definitely is not the fic that I’ve been working on literally the entire time I’ve been gone (that’s coming don’t worry), but I got this idea at 2 in the morning and I had to jump on it IMMEDIATELY. Hope you all like it mwah mwah love you.
Warnings: SMUT!! Minors please for the love of everything that is good, do not interact, modern day vampire!Ellie, semi graphic descriptions of blood and wounds, shy!reader, Ellie bites you a lot, Ellie feeds on you and honestly it’s borderline soft core porn, fingering Ellie!receiving, grinding, mentions of bruises, Ellie is extremely fucking strong, Ellie watches you in your sleep/can get into your apartment without a key, let me know if I’ve missed anything!!
You aren’t really sure how you and Ellie became friends.
Well, you are, maybe a better question would be why you two became friends. You were both so different, you were convinced the first time you met that she hated you. The night filled with quick glances as she damn near avoided speaking to you like you were the fucking plague. It took you a bit to not take it too personally, reminding yourself that you weren’t for everyone, and that was okay! So what if the mutual friend didn’t like you…it wasn’t the end of the world.
So, it came to a surprise to you when a few nights after meeting Ellie passed, you had not one, not two, but three of your friends texting you and asking you if it was okay if they gave her your number…
Because she’d asked for it.
And suddenly you’re texting each other every day, and well into the wee hours of the night. You know, like one of those friendships. The ones that makes you smile every time you see their name pop up on your phone, or the ones where you send each other stupid videos on TikTok all day just to talk about them on a different messaging platform, because of course you’re interacting with each other every where that you have a presence.
Ellie becomes your best friend before you even realize it, and it makes you realize that maybe she didn’t dislike you as much as you thought before.
It always did confuse you a bit in the beginning how you two got along so well. You were both so different from one another. Ellie was a party animal, you were a home body. Ellie was up late at night, you were up early in the morning. If Ellie was the moon, then you were the sun. Polar opposites coming together to find a home in one another, the most unusual pairing stuck by the hip from that point on.
You of course, kept all each other’s secrets. You’d learned very early on that no one really knew much about Ellie, which you simply chalked up to her being a private person. However, she seemed eager to tell you any and everything about her. Like her dad, she’d talk about him all the time, you figured on early on that she really loved him. Or whenever she had a a new fling going, you’d be the first to know of course. She’d even told you about the time she threw away her dad’s playboy magazine after stealing it from him, which she swore she’d never told a soul.
She wanted to know all about you too! Your favorite color, favorite animal, childhood crush, family relationships. Truthfully? If you weren’t so oblivious, you would’ve seen a long time ago that Ellie was the slightest bit obsessed with you.
But you loved her, and you trusted her with your life, so you told her everything! Because you didn’t keep things from each other.
So, on a night out with everyone else, Ellie disappears, and of course you try to look for her, asking around only to be told that everyone saw her leave. Going outside to make sure she’s okay is the only logical thing to do, right? You have to make sure she’s okay.
What you don’t expect though, is when you look down a dark alleyway a few buildings down from the club you’re at, and spot the tall figure of your friend tucked into the brick wall of the dark corner, shielding way whatever it is that’s behind her. You call out for her, and when she turns around you gasp.
Because her eyes were red, and not red like you haven’t gotten any sleep, or you’ve been crying, the green of her eyes are now red, bloodshot red, and she’s holding a lifeless body in her tattooed arms…and there’s blood covering her pink lips, dripping down her chin.
Yeah, Ellie was a vampire.
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You let out a gentle yawn as your hand went down to grab the remote control to your tv, your other hand coming up to rub your eyes a bit, a sorry attempt at trying to wake yourself up enough to get from the couch to go to your bed.
You pouted softly, lazily bringing your phone up to check the time before you sighed, finally finding the strength in you to push yourself up off the couch to leave your living room.
Work had been absolutely plowing you into the ground, your publicist constantly hounding you to keep working on the most recent installment of your book series. It was just so fucking hard, everytime you sat down in front of your computer, it was like writing your own book was the last thing you wanted to do.
It was draining you, and it felt like every time you finished a set of chapters, your brain was complete mush.
The upside though, was that it tired you out enough to completely knock out once you were in bed.
A gentle sigh left your lips once your head hit your soft pillow, plush blankets wrapping around your body, sliding down your bare legs and making you feel absolutely blissful. You couldn’t even stop yourself from the soft smile on your lips as your eyes grey heavy, the low lighting in your room making you feel all the more cozy, all the more warm.
You were out in seconds, soft snores leaving your sleeping body as you entered a world of dreams, escaping reality for a few measly hours before you were bombarded with the real world around you in the morning.
Ellie was on the other side of town, or at least, leaving the other side of town. It was late, and while she did love to be a creature of the night, there was something that sounded much more inviting than a glass of whiskey and a cigarette.
You, of course.
You were Ellie’s kryptonite, the single thing in this entire fucked up world that convinced her there was something worth living for, in her case, existing for. You were so fucking good, so sweet, so forgiving of literally everything. There were too many times that Ellie recalled where she wasn’t even sure you were real, perhaps another mythical creature much like herself, sent to this world to lure others into a trap that was just as filthy and terrible as the rest of the world.
But you weren’t…there were never any cons or secrets that you held, and if you did hold any secrets, you were more than willing to let Ellie in on them. No…no you were different.
God were you different.
Ellie recalls the night she first laid eyes on you like it was yesterday, her cold, dead heart jolting back to life for only a second when she saw you, at least that’s what it felt like. Your smile radiant in the dim, multicolored lights of the club, cheeks shining, eyes twinkling, like an angel sent from above. Ellie almost felt like a being as evil, and sour as she wasn’t worthy of being in the same room as you.
And god…your fucking smell.
Ellie could go on about it for hours. Sure, you were remarkable without it, but it was just the icing on the cake, the twisting of the knife in her chest.
She has mastered the art of walking into a room filled with warm bodies pumped full of blood and while ago, her throat burning with the urge to sink her teeth into her next poor victim. It was easy, annoying, but easy, and she couldn’t really remember the last time she struggled being around anyone, especially friends, or even friends of a friend.
But the second she saw you, your sweet, dulcet smell wafting against her nose, she was transported back in time. Back to a time where she was but a young vampire, clueless of the world around her, of her new life, adapting to something she didn’t even know existed before all of this, without a single guide or a fucking pamphlet for gods sakes.
It made her eyes widen, and she stopped breathing instantly to try and dull the scent of you sneaking into her nostrils and down into her eager throat. She noticed the way you pouted and sighed whenever she’d ignore you, or give her nothing but a brief response whenever you tried to get to know her. She could tell this wasn’t your thing, the night life, partying, you were here because someone asked it of you, and you being the good friend you are would never let anyone you cared about down.
Despite Ellie being a total dick to you because she simply couldn’t control herself around you, you sucked it up, carried on and stayed until everyone else decided to leave.
Watching you leave that night, made Ellie realize you weren’t something she could pass up.
Asking for your number was probably the best thing Ellie had ever done in her immortal life. Speaking to you was far better than thinking about you constantly, and after she’d convinced herself she wouldn’t do anything stupid with you, she was finally ready to introduce herself to you, the right way.
It’s how she constantly found herself like this, searching for your warm embrace around her cold, dead body every time she found the opportunity. She’d come to you when she was done working, she’d come to you when the girls at the bar were boring her, she’d even come to you when she simply knew you were home and she had nothing to do.
Ellie hummed softly as she looked up at your apartment building, the warm summer breeze wafting against her skin as she stared up at your window, the white curtains blowing out with the wind. She sighs to herself.
“Told you to stop leaving your window open…” she mumbles softly to herself.
The human eye wouldn’t ever be able to catch the way Ellie climbs up the side of your building, her arms and legs scaling it like a pro, making it look as simple as walking, or even breathing. It’s too fast, and in the blink of an eye, she’s at your balcony, long fingers pulling back your curtains to get a look at your sleeping figure.
She watches as your chest rises and falls, your blanket covering your sleeping frame, bare legs kicked out from under them, shining under the moonlight. She isn’t sure how long she stays there at your window staring at you, watching in awe as you do something as simple as sleep.
It isn’t until you shift slightly in your sleep, a dreamy sigh leaving your lips, that Ellie finally pushes her long legs over your window to step into your room, sneaker clad feet pressing onto the wooden floor of your bedroom.
She looks around for a moment, taking a deep inhale as she lets your scent wash over her for a moment, eyes fluttering shut as she simply lets you consume her, fill her up and make her feel whole again.
Make her feel alive again.
You never really understood it, why Ellie lingered when she hugged you, face pressed at the nape of your neck, swaying you slowly as she clung to you longer than normal. Well…you did know, at least you’d find out later on when Ellie finally explained everything to you…what she was, how it happened.
Although, it was only half what you thought. Sure, the smell of your blood made Ellie’s mouth water, her nostrils flare and her throat burn, but it was so much more than that. You made her feel whole, and even if it were a few seconds, she was going to make the most of it every time she got the chance.
And that’s what she felt when she was in your little room. The cool breeze filling up the space, the dim lights casting a warm glow over you because you couldn’t sleep in the dark. You used the excuse of creating an ambiance for yourself when you slept, but Ellie knew you far better than that. It was like you’d perfected the feeling of comfort, bottled it up and sprayed it around your room every other day.
The wind blowing your curtains a bit harder caught Ellie’s attention, and she sighed softly as she walked over to it and shut it. She had told you time and time again to quit it, warning you about the weirdos that would love to take advantage of a pretty girl with her window open while in the most vulnerable state.
Even though the only weirdo that ever snuck into your room through said window, was Ellie. If anything, your little habit only fueled Ellie’s addiction for you further.
The sound of your window closing makes you groan softly in your sleep, and at that sound, Ellie knows she’s done it.
While she wanted nothing more than for you to be awake when she came over, she hated waking you. You looked so fucking serene when you slept, and Ellie felt like the devil himself whenever she accidentally ripped you away from that, even if the only thing she wanted was for you to be awake and talking to her.
Your body twists and turns a bit, slowly finding its way out of the drowsy state of sleep you were in. You let out a gentle yawn before one of your hands come up to rub your eyes, moments before you turn to your side to face her, hand resting between your cheek and your pillow as your eyes open and focus on the tall frame standing in front of your bed.
Ellie is convinced nothing scares you, because for as long as she’d been doing this, sneaking into your bedroom and watching you sleep, on the rare occasion that you wake up and catch her, you never seem scared. You don’t gasp or scream, you don’t even flinch when you see the dark, looming presence stood there in front of you. Ellie was sure the first time you caught her there, that you’d scream in horror before calling the police on her.
But you never did. You always stared at her with a sleepy smile, eyes puffy with sleep, lips a bit swollen, looking at her as if she were your favorite person in the entire world.
And like all those nights before, you do the same. A gentle yawn falls from your lips as you rub your eyes once more before tugging your blanket further up your shoulder.
“Ellie…” you sigh out softly, and you sound so fucking dreamy, so beautiful does her name sound falling from her lips. It makes Ellie weak in the knees.
She walks over to you slowly, smiling softly down at you as she grows closer and closer to your bed until she’s standing over you, one of her hands coming down and running around your blanket clad shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Wanted to come visit…sorry I woke you” she hums soft, her hand traveling up until it reaches your face, one of her fingers caressing your cheek ever so slightly. Your eyes flutter shut at this, and she can see that the gesture alone is nearly enough to lull you back to sleep.
“S’okay…I wake up in the middle of the night all the time…you know that” you assure her, words falling with yet another yawn before you open your sleepy eyes up again to stare up at her.
Before she can even speak though, your content expression is replaced with one of worry as you finally get the chance to focus on her face, your eyebrows furrowing as you prop yourself up on your elbow, your other hand reaching up to touch her cheek as you become more and more alert with each passing moment.
“Are you okay Ellie? You look…why are your eyes so…” you mumble, now on your knees to reach her better, your face in front of hers as your eyes search hers.
She looked pale, paler than usual. Her lips were chapped, eyes dull and sunken in, she looked like she hadn’t slept in centuries, like all the life had been sucked out of her. And while that technically was the case, Ellie often looked vibrant for her dead state, eyes sharp and alert, green eyes almost fluorescent with color when you looked into them.
Immediately, you know what was wrong.
“When’s the last time you…had something to eat?” You ask sternly, eyebrows furrowed and a firm frown on your pouty lips.
That was another thing…Ellie hadn’t properly fed in about two weeks, going on three now.
She let out a gentle sigh, her hands resting on your hips as your own rested on her cheeks, cupping her face and forcing her to look into your eyes even though she avoided eye contact.
She hated when you saw her this way, so weak, so small. She liked it when she was the best version of herself, the version that was well fed, agile and strong. Not like this, not like when she was turning into a shell of the woman she once was.
“I…it’s just been a few nights, angel…it’s no big deal” she tries, giving your hips a firm squeeze as she attempts to convince you that she was fine. However her appearance and her voice is a dead giveaway that she’s lying, the sound hoarse and scratchy, sounding as if she’d been clawing at her throat for days to ease the pain she felt.
“You can’t lie to me, Ellie. You look horrible” you scold the girl.
She lets out a sigh, and she almost feels ashamed of herself. Sure, there were times where a meal was a bit harder to come by, people becoming a bit more aware of the danger that lingered when she was near, but god, Ellie couldn’t remember a time where it was this bad. It was like every single time she got someone in her arms, trapped in her little scheme, something cock blocked her entirely from finishing the deed.
And the more times that happened, the weaker she got.
“I’ve just been really unlucky…okay? Most of us do this in packs or with a fucking partner at least…it gets tricky when you’re on your own” she finally admitted, a gentle sigh falling from her lips as she leaned down to rest her head against your shoulder, pressing her weight against you in the process, as it was slowly becoming unbearable to hold it up herself at this point.
“M’just going through a thing right now, baby…don’t worry about it” she mumbled against you, lips ghosting over your soft skin as she again tried to assure you she’d been fine.
Ellie had always made it a point to never get as low as this, and if she did, she made it a point to never let you see her. What would her sweet best friend think of her if the monster she truly was had the chance to shine through? How would you ever allow her in your presence again once you finally realized how disgusting she truly was?
What Ellie didn’t know, is that you didn’t think any of those things. You could never find her to be a monster or disgusting, you adored her far too much to ever see her that way. No, what you did think when you saw her that way, were any of the things you could do to help her. That was the only thing you wanted, to help her.
You don’t even think twice before you say it, giving yourself a moment to mull over the idea and weigh out the pros and cons before it’s escaping the confides of your mind and making its debut out into your bedroom.
“Feed on me” you blurt out, so quickly you aren’t even sure Ellie fully catches it properly.
But she does, Ellie hears every word, every syllable, she can even hear the way your heart beat quickens after you’ve said it.
She’s slowly lifting her head from your shoulder, eyebrows furrowed and lips frowning as she stares down at you, your eyes wide and hopeful, hopeful that she’ll take the offer, that she’ll allow you to give yourself to her for the sake of her wellbeing.
“No.” She deadpans without a second thought. She doesn’t even give herself a second to indulge in the idea of it, knowing how badly it could end, how terrible it could be with one wrong move, or one gulp too much. Ellie knows that this is nothing to toy with, especially with you.
You’re quickly shaking your head once she rejects your offer, your hands falling from her face to rest down on her shoulders, leaning in a bit to press your body closer to hers.
“Ellie…look at yourself. How were you even able to climb up here?” You plead with the girl, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze before you inhale deeply.
“I’m giving you permission…I want you to do this” your words almost come out like a beg, wanting nothing more than to simply help the girl, to help a friend in need that clearly needed it.
And you knew deep down, that no matter what, Ellie would never hurt you.
Ellie knew it too. She knew that she wouldn’t go too far to take your life away from you. She had been around long enough to have the self control to stop whenever she knew you’d had too much.
However, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be hard.
She inhaled deeply, giving your hips a gentle squeeze before she finally brought her own eyes up to look into yours. Her pink tongue darted out to run along her lips, wetting the chapped skin before she let out a gentle sigh.
“You’ll tell me when it becomes too much…right?” She asks, desperate for confirmation from you that you won’t let her go too far, even if she wanted to.
You give her a bright smile, a gentle giggle leaving your lips as you nod. “I will…now go on…sooner you do this, the sooner I can sleep” you tease her playfully, which makes her groan softly with a pout.
She sighed softly, reaching forward and pushing your hair to the side to expose the soft, supple skin of your neck. Her eyes zeroed in on it, and she could practically see your pulse from beneath your skin, making her shudder at the thought of it. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your throat, which earns a gentle sigh from you.
“This’ll hurt…” she mumbles against you, peppering your skin with gentle kisses. You simply tilt your head further to the side, resting your temple against her shoulder as your arms hang loosely around her neck, your body pressed against hers.
“Mm…I’ll be okay” you mumble out sleepily, your fingers coming up to toy with the hair at the nape of her neck.
Ellie can feel the way your pulse slows under her lips, and she has to stop herself from groaning due to how fucking strong your smell was right now with your body pressed against hers. She knew that the longer the stood her, mouthing away at your neck instead of actually feeding, she’d just keep you from getting back to the rest that she had interrupted in the first place.
It was now or never.
She sighed softly, swallowing thickly before she opened her mouth a bit wider, fangs protruding out from her gums and taking their rightful place. She let them graze your skin, the sharp teeth sure to leave scratches from something as small as a graze, before she finally latched her lips to your throat, and sunk her teeth into your flesh.
Now…Ellie had her fair share of tasty meals within her immortal life time. There were maybe a handful of people that left a faint memory in her head, better than most of the others she’d fed on in her past, so she was no stranger to a warm body with a nice taste.
But you? God….there was nothing in this world that could’ve prepared Ellie for how fucking…divine you taste. It was like liquid gold on her tongue, the smell that had plagued her mind from the moment she met you a mere tease to the real deal. It made Ellie moan against you, her eyes fluttering shut as her tattooed hands clawed at your waist, gripping the skin so tightly she was sure to leave bruises, pressing you flush against her body.
She could practically feel the essence of your life filling her up and bringing all of her strength back, replacing the once empty, dull feeling in her body with one that could only be described as rejuvenation. The taste you gave her flowing into her mouth and making her feel like she’d died and gone to heaven.
The noises you made only aided Ellie in her blissful state, tiny moans and huffs leaving your lips as you continued massaging her scalp with gentle fingers, allowing her to take whatever she needed from you.
Ellie knew she could’ve drained you, taken every last drop of your life and left you dry. She could do it ten times over if it were an option, however it wasn’t, and she knew at the back of her head she could only take what she needed, and nothing more. So she knew once your grip around her neck loosened a bit, that she needed to stop.
She unlatched from your neck breathlessly, your crimson blood painting her plush lips, red eyes blown out wide as she eyed the damage she’d done to your poor neck, the punctures filling Ellie’s chest with a sense of pride as some of your blood and her saliva dripped down the base of your throat. She leaned in, licking you clean before pressing a gentle kiss to the wound, groaning softly as when she heard you hum softly.
“All…finished?” You mumbled out with a dreamy smile on your lips, eyes half lidded as you stared up at the girl who had just nearly sucked you dry.
Ellie stared down at you with a look of disbelief, the back of her hand coming up and wiping her lips. “You said you’d tell me to stop…” she groaned softly as she gently set you down to lay back on your bed.
You let out a soft yawn, nodding as you tugged your blanket up with a weak hand to drape over your body. “I was…you stopped sooner than anticipated” you giggled out sleepily before you eyed the girl from your bed, already feeling the drowsy affects of sleep taking over.
“You look better already, El…” your compliment made her dead heart swell. She could feel it too, your life coursing through her veins and bringing back all of the good aspects of being immortal, the strength, the radiance, all of it brought back because of you.
She chuckled softly at your words, walking over to your closet and grabbing your first aid kit, fishing a little band aid out before walking back towards you. She sat at the edge of the bed, her pointer and middle finger pushing your jaw up slightly to get a look at the wound she’d given you.
“Here…so you don’t get blood on your pillow” she explains as she pressed the bandaid to your neck. You simply hum in response, and Ellie knows you’re probably already asleep. Between being tired before all of this, and losing blood, she expected for you to be out like a light long before she bid you a goodnight.
She stays a bit longer after you’ve fallen asleep, her long limbs crawling over your body to lay in bed with you, marveling at the way the color returned to your body, the way your chest rose and fell slowly, the way your lips would part with a gentle sigh ever so often. She’d let her hands caress your skin, watching as goosebumps appeared to trail after them. She simply appreciated how human you were, how warm and responsive you were even during sleep.
She leaves once the sun begins to peak above the horizon, knowing you’d want your privacy when you woke up in a few hours. She makes sure to close your window after she’s left too, scaling down the building much quicker than she did when she first arrived.
And while she walks home, the sun slowly casting a warm glow onto the city she lived in, she knew that she’d made a mistake by feeding on you.
Because now? She was completely and utterly ruined for anyone else that she’d feed on after you.
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Bloodlust
The word had entirely different meaning for those like Ellie, creatures of the night that fed on the essence of life, the scarlet, metallic liquid that flowed and pumped throughout the bodies of the living.
She had heard of it happening to other vampires, in an instance of finding the human being that acted as a drug to them, making it hard to function without their taste on their tongues. It was an occasion that only ever happened when there was a mutual agreement between a vampire and a human, a hunter/prey proposition that acted in a more…ethical way.
It consumed the one feeding, making it hard to function without the person near, almost creating an inseparable bond between the two, paired with a constant line of food with it as well. It took over nearly everything, mind, body, soul, all of it belonging to the person they fed on, the human often times having more control over the vampire.
Ellie never really believed in it, instead viewing blood as something that was of and in itself, the same all the time. Sure, there were some people that tasted better than others, but blood was blood, no matter who the person was, they were more or less all the same at the end of the day. A meal was a meal, and that was that.
So if that was true, why were you the only thing on Ellie’s mind every waking second after the night she fed on you?
You were always on Ellie’s mind before it all, lingering at the back, making her smile when she thought of something silly you’d said to her earlier in the week, face beaming whenever you’d send a text her way, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary that you were on her mind.
She thought of it constantly, the way you were so…so fucking eager for her, a sense of intimacy lingering in the air of an act so selfless. Your pouty lips parted as you moaned and sighed her name, her lips attached to your neck as you gave her everything. Feeding was always something that felt the slightest bit romantic, the closeness of it all.
But you…doing it with you was different than anything she’d ever experienced.
She knew it meant nothing to you, she knew that it was simply you being a good friend, which meant it was borderline wrong for her to take it any way other than what it was, but she couldn’t help herself. She could still taste you on her tongue when she got home, plopping down into her bed and staring up at the ceiling in her dark room as she felt her core tighten and flutter as she referenced back to the memory.
Ellie couldn’t help herself when she unbuttoned her jeans, slipped her hands down to cup her pussy, and caught her aching clit against her calloused fingers to give it some much needed attention.
And she moaned your name as if it were the only word in her vocabulary, blubbering and crying out for you as she angrily fucked her aching pussy, eyebrows furrowed to the point where she almost looked upset.
“F-fuck….that’s my fucking girl…that’s it…gonna cum all over your pretty fuckin’ face” she groaned out, picturing you settled between her legs, eagerly lapping at her weeping core, grinding down onto your face and giving you everything she had, much like you did when you allowed her to feed on you.
She’d cum with your name falling from her lips, back arching as her hips rolled against her palm, sopping wet cunt painting her slick all over her hand, making it hard to even keep it where she needed it with how wet she was, how fucking riled up you had her.
And she’d do it again, lying in her bed and thinking of the memory over and over again, hanging on to the sound of your voice sighing out her name, moaning for her as she licked her lips, searching for the taste of your blood still soaked on them. All while you were sound asleep in your apartment where she left you.
If Ellie thought she was drawn to you before, she was sorely mistaken. Because now? All she could do was crave you. It interrupted her day to day, made her brain foggy when she wasn’t with you or talking to you.
And soon? It became a habit.
Ellie was at your door every other night, long fingers searching for your hips to pull you closer as she pressed her face into your neck, tongue slipping out of her mouth to run along the now permanent marks on your neck, whispering in your ear about how badly she needed you.
It had become a bit of a routine, Ellie would come over, you’d let her feed on you until she saw fit, she’d go home and fuck herself, and then she would live in her own personal hell for the next few days that she wasn’t able to see you.
It’s how she found herself dragging her body down the hallway to your apartment, a heavy hand coming up to the door and giving it a firm knock.
When you answer, Ellie thinks you look like a dream. Your body is leaned up against the door, head resting against it as you give her a dreamy smile, oversized t-shirt hanging off of one of your shoulders, sleep shorts barely visible beneath the end of the shirt, hugging your ass so perfectly, your white socks bunched up at your ankles.
She has to bite back the moan that threatens to escape when she lays eyes on you.
“Mm…hi Ellie” your voice sounds like the sweetest melody, and she’s smiling sheepishly as she walks towards you, bending her knees a bit as she wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her tall frame, nearly light you up off the ground completely.
“There she is…” she sighed against you, and it sounds like Ellie can finally breath, like the weight holding her back from breathing in the air she so desperately needed has finally been granted to her, it makes you giggle softly.
You wrap your arms around her neck, humming softly as your fingers come up to tangle in her hair, simultaneously pulling her into your apartment. She kicks the door closed behind her, arms still wrapping you up and keeping you close.
She keeps you close, her head coming up to take a look at the set up you have going in that she’s walked in to. She can tell you’ve been working on your book, your laptop set on your couch paired with your favorite blanket, and a mug set on your coffee table that was still steaming.
“Working on the book?” She asked softly, you nod as you turn around in your arms, and excited smile on your face as you walk over to your spot, clicking the keypad a few times before you shut it.
“Yup. I’m getting pretty far….was wrapping it up right before you came over” you practically beamed.
Ellie always found it so endearing how dedicated you were to your work, and rightfully so, Ellie reminded you time and time again that she’d lived through many eras of famous writers, but you always topped them ten times over and then some. She’d never let you forget the talent you had was rare.
You plopped down on your couch after sliding your laptop into its little compartment under your coffee table, your legs coming up to cross over each other as you pat the spot next to you eagerly, to which she easily obliged of course.
Her old denim jacket rustled a bit as she sat down, resting her back against your couch as she slouched down a bit, legs spread as she stares up at you through the dim, cozy lighting of your living room.
You giggle softly, resting your cheek against your palm as you look down at her. “What are you staring at? You’re looking at me like I’m something to eat…” your words trail off, eyes narrowing at the girl playfully before you sit up, crossing your arms.
“Did you come all the way here to get a free meal out of me, Williams?” Your tone is accusing, but playful, and it makes Ellie chuckle as she bring her tattooed hands up to rub up and down her face before she groans.
“When you say it like that it sounds bad….I see it as seeing my favorite person with something extra added into it…” she defends herself before chuckling, looking back at you as she tugs her bottom lip into her mouth, sucking gently on the plump skin, letting her mind linger to imagine it was your lips she was sucking on instead as her eyes slowly zeroed in on them, similar to if she were under a spell.
“You know you don’t have to if you don’t want to…” she mumbled out softly, voice gentle and truthful.
It was true, Ellie would cut all of this out the second you made even the slightest signal that you were tired of it, or if your body simply couldn’t handle it anymore. She knew that she’d never use you as her personal blood bag. The minute you wanted out, you got it, no questions asked.
You give her a gentle smile though, shaking your head as you shifted your body a bit so that it was now laying down on the end of the couch opposite of Ellie, your head resting against one of the plush pillows you had next to you while you were writing. You spread your legs a bit, making space for Ellie to crawl into before you stretched your arms out for her, a silent call for the girl to come closer.
“I’ll always give it to you, El…you know that. Come…” you call her again with a slight flick of your wrist.
Your words make Ellie’s head swirl, all of it sounding, and feeling, much too similar to something else, something more than just a friend helping another friend out. It sounds like you’re giving something else to her, something she’d dreamt of taking from you from the moment she laid eyes on you.
But she can’t indulge in that, not now, not when you’re being so kind.
She chokes back a groan, the girl slowly crawling over your body, similar to a predator creeping over its prey. Her body consuming yours as she pressed either one of her palms into the plush couch near your head, staring into your eyes as she settled between your warm thighs, the plush skin pressing against a sliver of her hips that was exposed at the top of her jeans. The feeling of her body pressed against your warm cunt, the only thing separating the two of you being the think material of your shorts, drove Ellie to the brink of insanity.
She hummed softly, her eyes trailing down your every feature, taking you in, eating you up for a moment before she grabbed your chin, tilting your head up and away to give her better access to the little area of your throat that had now become hers and only hers.
Soon, she’s leaning down, her body pressed against yours as she peppers kisses along your jaw until she reaches your throat, licking at the two little wounds that were in the shape of her fangs before she sighed against your skin, finally giving in and letting her protruding fangs sink into your skin.
You’d always been comfortable around Ellie, never shying away from her touch whenever she’d grab you whenever you were out together, or letting her easily pull you into her lap whenever you watched movies or played video games together, intimate touches never being out of the ordinary in your relationship.
But now, ever since you and her had started…whatever it was that you’d been doing, you had seemed to cross a boundary that was once put up. What was once little sighs and huffs, turned into full on moans whenever Ellie would press her body against yours and take what she wanted. You’d grip her hair, keeping her close as you moaned and whined out her name, breathless begs for her to keep going.
“Fuck…Ellie…” you moaned out for her, your eyes fluttering shut as your fingers laced into her brown hair, keeping her close as her hands moved from either sides of your head to instead grip your body. Your hips were her favorite, holding onto the plush skin and keeping you close, massaging and kneading you as she pleased, a small piece of her wanting to bruise you up, just so she knew she was able to leave marks on you other than your neck.
It egged her on further, your calls for her making her swipe her tongue over the wound before she continued sucking your sweet essence from your body. Ellie wasn’t sure if you were fond of it at first, but now? With how you reacted? She was sure you enjoyed it, if even a little bit.
She became so drunk off of you, her mind clouded with the intense flavor of your blood, nearly choking on it with how quickly she drank sometimes. One of her hands left your hips, sliding down until she gripped your thigh, pulling it up and closer to wrap around her body, massaging the soft skin as she let one of her legs slip over your other one, so that her thigh was slotted against your cunt, and yours against hers.
Ellie didn’t even realize it at first, but she slowly began to grind into you, letting her thigh rub against your barely clothed pussy as she drank from you, her senses completely overwhelmed with just how fucking good you tasted, how good you felt. She felt her mind and body buzz with electricity when she pressed her chest against yours, and she could feel your nipples hardening through the thin material of your shirt, pressing against her own chest.
“Mm…h-hah…Ellie..I….Ellie please…” you begged, and Ellie was able to hear the way your voice was slowly going, growing more and more hoarse with every moan, every pant.
She was taking too much, and she wasn’t sure if she was begging for you to stop, or to keep going.
Ellie groaned loudly against you, prying her lips away from your dulcet neck, panting loudly as she pulled away further to look down at you, letting herself get a good look at the mess she’d made of you.
Your lips were swollen, eyes growing heavy, skin getting dull. Your hair was messy, and your shirt was pulled down further, revealing more of your shoulder and collar bones, while the bottom was pushed up to show more of your stomach.
It was like a dream and a nightmare all at once.
You blinked a few times as you tried catching your breath, staring up at Ellie as one of your hands came up to cup her cheek gently.
“A-all better?” You stuttered out, giving her that notorious dreamy smile of yours, the one that made Ellie feel like she was the only person in the world that got to see it.
She’s drained you, and yet you were asking if she felt better.
Ellie held back a groan, her large hand wrapping around your wrist before she brought your hand down to press a kiss to your palm, giving you a gentle nod before she inhaled deeply to control the emotions that threatened to escape while she saw you this way.
“Always when I’m with you baby” she chuckled out sadly.
The smile you give Ellie nearly has her in tears, because you look so genuinely happy, so content with the fact that you’ve helped her, that you’ve made Ellie feel better, even if it’s at the expensive of your own comfort.
At the expensive of your own life.
“I’m glad…” you hummed out softly before you yawned, clearly tired out from what Ellie had done to you. It makes Ellie frown, and she’s quickly pushing herself off of you before she scoops you up into her arms to carry you off to your bedroom.
Soon, she has you tucked into bed, your eyes closing almost as soon as your head hits the pillow, and Ellie has your blankets pulled up over your arms. It’s almost mind blowing how quickly you fall asleep, it makes Ellie feel a bit jealous, because she can’t remember a time where she was that comfortable in a bed to fall asleep so fast.
She watches you, of course. Sticking around for a few hours after you’ve slept, keeping an eye on you to make sure your chest continues to rise and fall slowly. She knows it would never go that far, but she always gets nervous after feeding.
Tonight was also different, and it was eating away at her because she knew there wasn’t really a right or wrong way to go about cleaning about it, or comforting you about how wrong this was, and how much Ellie had been draining you. Even the fact that you expected it of her when she came over left a bitter taste in her mouth, one that replaced the sweet one that usually lingered on her tongue after she had a taste of you.
And as she watched you sleep, so peaceful and so serene, Ellie began to think of any way this would blossom into something more. How would this carry on? She would continue sucking from you until you died one day? She’d come to you like a thief in the knight well after you had a family? Children to look after? Your life moving on while she stayed in an immortal purgatory? One where she continued the cycle of coming to you for a quick bite to eat? Paired with a warm body to lay on top of for the time being?
There was no way it could surpass this. You being her friend, helping her in a way not many could. Ellie knew, that deep down, the life she wanted with you was not one that was easy to come by, something that she wouldn’t dare ask of you. From the moment she saw you, she wanted more. Because that’s what she did, she took, and took, and took until there was nothing left to take, and it was slowly happening with you.
But Ellie loved you too fucking much to take until you were nothing but a shriveled up peace of what you used to be.
So, she took one long last look at you and she left your window. Because that night, she promised herself that she was finished. The life she wanted with you unfortunately wasn’t written in the stars for her, and she knew that from the moment she saw you.
Ellie was letting you go, because she knew it she didn’t.
She’d just end up killing you.
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little-pondhead · 10 months
Text
DP x DC Prompt
There are no more heroes.
Well, okay. Rewind a bit.
Danny has been doing the hero thing for a while now. He’s had a big reveal; everyone has accepted him (including his parents), the GIW disbanded, the Anti-Ecto acts repealed, and generally, everything is going great. Some of the A-Listers are even training as junior ghost hunters to help give him a break from his rogues! (Being Ghost King makes things hectic sometimes, and he just needs the extra help. Sue him!)
The point is, literally nothing is wrong with Danny Phantom’s afterlife.
And then Valerie Gray, the Red Huntress, disappears in front of his eyes.
Danny is baffled! She’s just…gone! Valerie just popped out of existence, like she was never there. But no matter how hard he searches in the Ghost Zone, he can’t find her soul anywhere. His core isn't broken in grief. So she’s not dead. Which is good. So then, where is she?
Some of the others come forward with ideas on how to find her. A few ghosts volunteer to go out into the mortal realm, an area Danny had declared off-limits, to see if she was out there. Danny approves it. He rounds up some of the friendlier (i.e., discreet) ghosts and Amity Parkers and demolishes the outside travel ban.
So everyone spreads out, looking for their dear frenemy and teammate. But it becomes apparent very quickly that something is wrong with the rest of the world.
There are no more heroes.
Every single living superhero on the face of the Earth has just…vanished. Villains are running amok; the countries are in chaos! Some aliens are invading Earth, mythical deities are trying to take over, and society is crumbling to the ground. Everything is on the brink of collapse.
Well, Danny was still there. And so were his people. They were pretty spread out, so could they just…take up the mantles? He also knew where to find the souls of dead heroes in the Zone; surely they wouldn't mind coming out of retirement for a little bit, especially if they couldn't die again. Oh! And that skeleton army leftover from Pariah Dark's reign might be useful in repelling those invading forces.
Honestly, there were more than enough hands to go around! And with the heroes gone, Danny didn't mind letting everyone out for a little break, as long as they followed his rules. They wouldn't stop the search for the other heroes, but hopefully, when they found them, the heroes wouldn't mind Danny's intervention too much. :)
In other words:
Someone fucks up, and all of Earth's living heroes are either wished out of existence or are whisked away to some far-off realm where Danny hasn't checked yet. In the attempt to figure out what's going on, Danny lets the dead run amok over the Earth as they search for clues. The skeleton army repels the invading armies, the souls of dead heroes deal with the world leaders, and his rogues and other Amity Parkers set up shop in place of famous heroes, trying to get the cities under control again.
Basically, they just do their best to keep everything from imploding until the Justice League and others are back.
(And why is it that Danny hasn't disappeared? Well, whatever caused everyone to go poof! only affected living heroes. Anyone heroes that were dead in the first place, or even just half-dead, stayed behind.)
#pondhead blurbs#danny phantom#dpxdc#reveal gone right au#ghost king au#for plot reasons#it doesn't count if the hero had died and then came back to life#lots of heroes would still be around then#but this is me pushing the halfa!jason todd narrative work with me here he deserves the fun#deadman is there too#and he's just thriving honestly. it's so nice to be around his own kind even if the world is ending#maybe ellie is whooshed away too cause she never technically died but she took up danny's moniker when he was crowned#vlad is ecstatic cause danny put him in charge of several states while they looked for clues including Wisconsin#skulker is replacing superman and just has a shitty S painted on his chest and just eats kryptonite like candy the first time he meets Lex#Kitty and Johnny take over in gotham and sam is now the new wonder woman#idk man just stupid stuff like this#the press is flabbergasted cause the fucking KING OF GHOSTS just showed up and he's 14 and just looking for some friends#Danny: hey guys sorry about the zombies and fire i'm just here to find my coworker and lil sister and maybe the other heroes#Danny: in the meantime i'll just let my army into the mortal realm to defend it while we figure out what's going on pls don't yell at us :)#the press: how do we explain this to the justice league when they come back. how do we explain that earth was saved by a 14 year old boy-#also idk which heroes are technically dead but are still kicking so if you feel like someone deserves liminal status slap it on them idc#some villains are trying for world dominance and some are just trying to find their buddies. their fight buds. where'd they go? :(#joker gets bitch slapped by a skeleton two days in and waylon becomes bffs with wulf#danny uses the watchtower as a base of operations and it's the only thing he doesn't want to give up when the heroes are back#i have no plot ideas beyond this#i just want everyone to be baffled that an army of the dead showed up while they were gone and just made sure everything stayed cool#later danny realizes he was technically the ruler of the world for a bit since his people were everywhere keeping the villains in check
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smiley-babe · 9 months
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princess of daydreams
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knight!megumi x princess!reader
Warning: heavy pining, masturbation, corruption kink, implied virginity loss, implied unprotected sex (pull out method used).
An: this was only supposed to be a drabble ._. got carried away.
minors do not interact/ 18+ only
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He’s always been stoic. A true rule follower to his core. He luckily hasn’t had to go out and risk his life for a pointless war that brings nothing but death for months only for the two kingdoms to come to a stupid truce. That’s the one thing he doesn’t see himself doing. Fighting to keep up with a king’s inflated ego. That’s why he was happy to be assigned under the royal guard. But that wasn’t the only reason he was content with his position.
Sapphire orbs drink up layers of ribbon and silks every time he sees you. He hated those huge puffy dresses on you, obscuring him from seeing your true frame. Makes him feel perverted when he thinks any of those thoughts and they’re so often. He sits up straighter every time you pass him. When your eyes meet he feels his throat dry and his hands clam up. Then there’s that sweet smile you always greet him with.
That moment always feels like sunshine beaming on his face. Like the air was sucked from his lungs and he has to take a gulp of fresh air. It gets to him so bad. That smile replays in his daydreams when his mind isn’t occupied with anything else. It’s even worse at night when his imagination really takes over.
Alone in his own chambers, he imagines what you look like in your night clothes or maybe even nothing at all. He feels so ashamed when he becomes aroused from the thought. Megumi always imagines what you would whisper to him if he had you here with him. He wonders if you would be hesitant in the case of keeping your innocence because of your status.
He thinks about corrupting you, convincing you to give him your first time under the idea that he’s helping you, showing you how to please your future husband. And you, so sweet and naive, give it to him willingly so you can be a good future wife.
Megumi shudders thinking about your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, instructing you not to use your teeth. Your mouth would be so warm and he wants to cum in it so bad and tell you to swallow it. He feels sick for thinking about kissing you afterwards.
Then he gets you under him, preps you so sweetly since it’s your first time and you need lubrication. Instead he just wanted to taste you. He thinks about how good you probably taste and how you would squirm from his tongue. He would make sure you finish on his mouth before trying out his fingers. He starts with one and soothes you when you cry, kissing away your tears. He would admire your beauty here and silently wish you were his. Then the second finger. By then you’re moving your hips in tandem with his fingers and you come undone again.
It’s so warm, with your bodies pressed together and nothing but the moonlight illuminating your guys’ features. With a couple sloppy kisses shared Megumi lines himself up with your purity. This is the part of the imagination where Megumi starts to touch himself.
Rough, calloused hands, used to holding a sword, grasps his hard cock. He sighs out, jaw slacking a bit and sapphire eyes closing. He smears the pre dribbling from his slit onto his cock. His hips rock to fuck up into his fist and he moans softly from the slight relief. He knows you would feel so much better wrapped around him.
His imagination runs wild with the thought of finally easing himself into you. He would shush you when you cry out to him that it hurts. “You want to be a noble wife, right? Then we can’t get caught. Quiet my lady.” He gets halfway before pulling out and pushing back in even farther. It starts to get easier for you to take him, your cunt opening up for him with every slight push of his hips.
Your nails dig into his strong forearms as you whine and keen for him. His lips mold with yours to shush you and he changes the position slightly to spread you even more open for him. The back of your knees rest in the crooks of his elbows and the pain returns again as he digs himself deeper into you. He wants to curse aloud and moan out your name so you know what you do to him.
“S- sir it’s deep,” you whisper to him as he keeps his pace slow.
“That’s the point,” he speaks in the dark. “Your husband is going to want to impregnate you the first night of your marriage. He needs to be close to your womb. Therefore this position is very common.” You don’t even question him because Megumi makes you feel safe. He’s supposed to. He’s a knight of the royal guard.
His hand speeds up and a hiss sounds from his lips as he imagines his balls clapping against against your ass every time he thrusts back in. He thinks about how well you would take it despite being a sweet little virgin. And all because you want to please your future husband, whoever he shall be. But in that moment you’re Megumi’s and Megumi’s alone.
You two try to stay quiet but it feels too good. Each other’s names whispered against your lips as you shared sweet kisses. A groan and a curse from Megumi and a shaky moan and whimpers from you. The bed creaks a bit from all the movement and Megumi can feel himself getting close. “I’m almost there,” he moans softly. You pull him in for another kiss, this one a bit messier and needier than the others.
It has him flinging to the edge and it disappoints him that he has to pull out. But he does, stroking his pretty cock over your body, cumming with a low, “fuck”.
He spills into his hand, some of it getting onto his lower abdomen. In his daydream though, he finishes on your bosom that he still wishes he could see with his own eyes.
Here comes the shame that approaches with these nightly thoughts. He shouldn’t be thinking about even doing that to you. But he always wonders if you would take him up on the offer if he ever asked. With a sigh he cleans himself up and takes himself back to bed, absolutely angry at himself for wanting to corrupt the princess.
Meanwhile he doesn’t know that you think of him, the pretty knight that fights with the fierceness of fire, when playing in your pretty cunt. Your nightly routine also included a made up scenario of him accompanying you to his chamber and filling you to the brim. Maybe one day you’ll order him to your room so you can enact your fantasy. But for now you two rely on your imagination to get you through these lonely nights.
______
tags: @luxekeyah @chosovixen @noritopia
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hyuny-bunny · 27 days
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pls do needy soft dom hyunjin with lots of praise and kisses 🥹 i need him so bad. preferably a fic / one shot !!
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hold me | H. H. |
genre: smut + fluff, idol!hyun x non idol afab reader
a/n: thank you so much for the submission 🥹 i hope this does it justice 🤍
synopsis: sunday mornings with a needy hyun after he's had a bad dream
MDNI (+18) content warning: oral fixation , p in v, afab reader, pet names (angel, baby, good girl, honey), unprotected sex, slight choking, finger sucking, fingering, a touch of angst, some aftercare cuddles <3
Weekends were pretty tame when he wasn't promoting or touring. It was only during these times, was there a sense of normalcy, almost falling into a domestic routine. Saturday's were always dates, whether it was for a dinner date, picnic dates, movie dates, art gala exhibition dates. It didn't matter where you were, as long as you were together, he's taking you out on dates. It was a date regardless of what was going on, even if it was just staying in and the furthest you got to being outside was walking down the street to pick up take out.
Sundays on the other hand, those were the lazy days. Sleeping in past ungodly hours, holding each other, ruffled messy hair, wet kisses, and hands under each others shirts (their both his shirts he'd argue). So it was no surprise when you woke up to see he was still sound asleep, you swept your legs off the bed to tip toe into the bathroom. Luckily when he moved to this place, he won the coin toss to get the master bedroom with a bathroom.
It was only a minute or so of washing up before you could hear him stirring around, calling out your name. Your view from the door way of the bathroom was a sight, he laid posed in bed like something out of a painting.
"Where'd you go? I missed you" he pouted but you couldn't deny how soft and sweet he sounded, honey dripping off his words. His dark hair was a tossed mess, his t-shirt was lifted just a bit, his hand laid across his stomach with his pinky finger just slightly tucked in the waist of his boxers.
"I had to wash up" you crawled onto his bed just barely hovering over his face, "I think you should consider the same."
He huffed a bit before strolling to the bathroom, disappearing for a bit. When he came back he looked refreshed, slightly more lively. Without a word he's crawling back into the bed and pulling you to lay atop of him, he's grabbing you by the waist with one arm and the other hand is reaching up into your hair to pull you down to his lips.
It starts soft and sweet, you can still taste the mint from his toothpaste. His practically situated you to straddle his thigh, your panties are the only thing stoping you from being flush against his thigh. It's when he starts to grip your hair tightly, you let out a soft whimper that gives him enough access to slot his tongue onto yours. The sounds of wet kisses and low whimpers are the only thing you can hear echoing in the room. He lifts his leg just a bit to have you sliding against him higher, you can feel how hard he is through his briefs.
"Need you... need to feel you... i want all of you..." His kisses become sloppier between each sentence. His lips are plumper than usual and bitten red from the way he kisses you. He pulls back to flip you under him, pushing his thigh against your core to feel the wet spot beginning to pool.
"Be an angel, will you?" his hands start to push up under your (his) shirt, his hands tickle your sides sending a shiver down your spine, when his hands cup your boobs, another whimper falls from your mouth.
"That's it baby, let me make you feel good, yeah?" he's leaving wet kisses down your throat until he gets to your collar bone, leaving a litter of hickies in place. Pulling back for a moment, he lifts his own shirt over his head leaving you to take your own off, now you're both down to your underwear. It's only then, when he has a full view of you in all your glory, does he feel like he could just cum from the sight of you.
He's latching his mouth on to your chest and sliding a hand in your panties, letting his fingers swipe away at the wetness covering you. You let a yelp from the sensation, pulling his hair slightly only making him groan into your chest before he's shoving his middle finger in.
"Be a good girl and try to stay quiet. Can't have them hearing your pretty moans, those are for me only."
He's shoving another finger and wrapping a gentle hand around your throat. His fingers are brushing up against the g-spot, leaving your legs a shakey mess, the hand on your throat is squeezing gently to making your head rush for a few before releasing again. You let out another whine louder than the last.
"Hyun, p-please I-I can't-," you're so close to cumming on his hand but not another word gets out. He's shoving his fingers coated in your wetness in your mouth for you to suck clean. His eyes are narrowed in on the way your lips are wrapped so prettily around his fingers. He pulls them in and out of your mouth until he feels you've had a good taste of yourself.
"Such a good girl for me, god I love you. Come on, let's get these panties off, I'll give you what you need."
He stands up to pull his boxers off, his cock springs up slapping against his tummy. He's big but not too big, it's long and with the right amount of girth. He's climbing back on to you before you can think. He lifts your hips, pulling your panties off in one swift motion. He's kneeling on the bed with your hips pulled to his lap, he leans down peppering your thighs in kisses.
"You're mine. All mine. Understood?" A kiss between each punctuation.
"I'm all yours, Hyun. Only yours.. please baby" Your head is still spinning from the orgasm that was ripped from you.
"Please what? Come on baby, I need to hear you say it." The head of his cock is rubbing against your entrance, bumping into your clit making you whine once more.
"Fuck me Hyun, please, need to feel your cock in me please. Make me cum please," the pleas send blood rushing to his cock again.
"I'll make you feel better baby." He slips himself into you with the last word causing you to let out the most pornographic moan he's ever heard. "Tell me you're mine."
"I'm yours. I'm yours, Hyun." His pace begins to pick up. His hands hold your waist, your tits bounce at every thrust and your hands are gripping his forearm. A string of moans and 'i'm yours' fall from your lips. He picks up his pace long forgetting his roommates are home, he couldn't care less. He needs to hear you say you belong to him, he needs the world to hear it.
"You're mine and I'm yours.. ohh fuck baby you feel so good. Cum on my cock, make me yours" he whimpers out.
Head spinning with lust, you catch a glimpse of the fucked out expression painted on his face. The way his chest moves every breath and his muscles enlarged by the way he holds you. You pull him down to your face, his hair is stuck to forehead. He loves the way you push his hair back and kiss him sweetly, a contrast to the way he fucks you right now. Skin slapping, wet squelching, heavy breathing, moans spilling out with no regards to anyone in earshot.
He picks up his pace, you feel the knot forming in your stomach. You try to muffle the moans in the pillow next you but it's not enough. He starts rubbing gentle circles to your clit with his thumb, when he lifts your leg his cock is hitting your g spot from another angle that has you falling apart. You're squeezing his cock so hard he whines out your name. You can feel the warm spurts of cum in you, his lap and cock covered in your own. He pulls out gently and lets your hips down. He rolls off the bed grabbing a warm wet cloth to clean you up. He kisses your forehead and cheeks sweetly, thanking you and showering you with 'i love you's. Once he's cleaned up the both of you, he crawls back into bed beside you, pulling you to his chest and mushing his face into your hair.
"Wanna tell me where all that came from?" You ask. He's quite for a beat.
"I had a dream... a nightmare really... And when I woke up you weren't there. I know it sounds silly but... I just needed to know that you need me as much as I need you..."
You lift your head from his chest to look him in the eyes. There's tears brimming his beautiful eyes.
"It's not silly. And I love you. I need you always. I need you like I need air to breathe." You kiss his lips and then his forehead, letting him have his turn to rest his head on your chest.
"Come on, honey. Let's have a shower" you try to lift his head from your chest.
"Just... please just hold me like this for a little while longer"
"I'll hold you for as long as you need... and then some." You brush your fingers through his hair until his heart beat calms, all you can hear are his quiet snores.
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linkspooky · 14 days
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SHIGARAKI VS. YUBEL: HOW TO SAVE YOUR VILLAIN
The failure of Deku to save Shigaraki isn’t just a tragic conclusion for Shigaraki’s arc, it’s also My Hero Academia failing as a story. When I say the story failed, I mean the story has failed to answer any of the questions it asked its audience. It’s themes, character arcs, everything that communicates the meaning of the story to the audience is no longer clear. 
Saving Shigaraki was the central goal of not only the story itself, but the main character Deku. By failing in its goal you can’t call this a good ending. In order to illustrate why this goal of saving the villain is so important to both Deku’s character and the central idea of MHA, I’m going to provide a positive example in Yu-Gi-Oh GX were the main character Judai successfully saves their villain.  One of these stories fails, and the other succeeds. I will illustrate why under the cut. 
BROKEN THEMES = BROKEN STORY
When artists draw they have to consider things like perspective, anatomy, shading, light, coloring. Drawing has rules, and it’s hard to produce good art without knowing these rules beforehand. If I draw something that has bad anatomy, you can criticize me for that. 
Writing has rules, just like drawing. The rules of storytelling are important because writing is an act of communication. You can write whatever you want, just like how you can draw whatever you want, but if you break the rules the audience won’t understand what you are trying to communicate. 
When I refer to MHA as a broken story, I am referring to the fact that it has broken the rules of storytelling. As this youtuber explains.
“I guess we should first define what broke and broken even means in this context. Has the story turned into an unintelligible mess? Not really. Value judgements aside, the narrative is still functional and fulfills the criteria of being a story. So how can a story that still functions be broken? Maybe to you it cannot. But to me a story that is still functional isn’t enough. What I mean when I say MHA is broken is that it’s lost something crucial. A codifying style of structure, pacing and payoff that until a certain point was the core of its identity.” 
I could launch into a long-winded explanation of what themes are, but for the sake of simplicity I like to define themes in terms of “Ask, and answer.” The author asks a question to the audience, and then by the end of the story provides an answer. The audience is also invited to come up with their own answer which prompts them to think about the story on a deeper level.  The question both MHA and GX are asking both its main characters and the audience is “Can you save the villain?” with the additional complicated question of “Should you save the villain?”  This post will detail how both stories go about answering those two questions, and more importantly why those answers matter for the story. 
With Great Power… You know the rest. 
My Hero Academia and Yu-Gi-Oh Gx are actually similar stories once you get past their superficial differences. MHA is a story with way better worldbuilding, compared to a society where everything revolves around the trading card game, and people go to school to be better at a trading card game. 
However, if you get past that. They are both bildungsroman, stories about the main characters growing up into adults. They both have an academy setting where the goal is for the main character to graduate and enter the adult world. They are both shonen manga. GX is the sequel of Yu-Gi-Oh a manga that ran in Shonen Jump the exact same magazine as MHA.  The biggest point of comparison is their main characters, who both start out as young and naive who are driven by their admiration of heroes. Deku is a fan of All Might who wants to become a hero despite not having a quirk, because he loves All might who saves everyone with a smile. Judai’s entire deck archetype revolves around “Elemental Heroes’ and later “Neo-Spacians” who are all based on popular sentai heroes like ultraman. 
The central arc for both characters is to grow up. Growing up for both of them not only requires figuring out what kind of adult they want to be, but also what kind of hero they want to be. 
Now I’m going to drastically oversimplify what a character arc is. 
A character arc first starts out with the character being wrong. Being wrong is essential because if the character is right from the beginning, then there’s no point in telling the story. A character often holds the wrong idea about the world, or has some sort of flaw that hinders their growth.  The narrative then needs to challenge them on that flaw. It usually sets up some kind of goal or win condition. That flaw gets in the way of a character “winning” or achieving their goal, so they need to fix that flaw first. If their ideals are wrong, then they need to think about what the right ideals are. If they’re too childish, they need to grow up. If they have unhealthy behaviors or coping mechanisms, they need to unlearn it and require better ones. Otherwise, that flaw will keep sabotaging them until the end. 
I’m borrowing the word “win condition” from class1akids here because it’s an incredibly appropriate terminology. Midoriya needs to do “x” in order to win, otherwise this victory doesn’t feel earned. The “x” in this case is usually character development. As I said before, a story where the main character hasn’t changed from beginning to end feels pointless. Especially in Deku’s case, he was already a brave, strong hero who would charge right into battle and defeat the bad guys in chapter one, so him defeating Shigaraki in a fist fight doesn’t represent a change. 
The story sets up not only “What does the hero need to do to win?” but also “How does the hero need to change in order to win?” A character either meets these requirements before the end of the story, or they don’t and usually this results in a negative ending. 
MHA in its first half quite clearly set up both the final conflict of saving the villains, and also that saving the villains is its “win conditions.”  The hero shouldn't be allowed to win without first fixing this flaw.
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From this panel onward the central question Deku is forced to answer shifts from “Am I strong enough to defeat ShigarakI” to “Can I save Shigaraki?” However, much earlier than that All Might goes on to basically set up the win conditions of what makes the ultimate hero as someone who “Saves by winning, and wins by saving.”
All might: You can become the ultimate heroes. Ones who save by winning, and win by saving.
Therefore the story has set it’s criteria for what kind of hero Deku needs to become. If he wins without saving, then he’s failed to become what the series has set up as the Ultimate Hero. 
Shigaraki and Yubel aren’t just narrative obstacles, or boss monsters to be killed like in a video game. They are narrative challenges, which means that the character can’t grow in any way if they don’t answer the challenge presented by the characters. They are villains who actively resist being saved, to provide a challenge for two heroes who define their heroism by saving others. The challenge they pose adds a third question to the story and the main characters. 
"Can I save the villain?"
"Should I save the villain?"
"If I don't save the villain, then can I really call myself a hero?"
In other words the decision they make in saving, or not saving their final antagonist defines what kind of hero they are. In Deku’s case it’s even more critical he defines what hero he wants to be because the MHA is also a generational story, and several of the kids are asked to prove how exactly this generation of heroes is going to surpass the last one. The kids growing physically stronger than the last generation isn’t a satisfactory answer, Deku getting strong enough to punch Shigaraki hard is not a satisfactory answer, because we are reading a story and not watching a boxing match. 
I’m going to focus on the last two questions though for a moment. Many people who argue against saving villains like Shigaraki argue he is a mass murderer and therefore isn’t worthy of salvation. However, the act of saving Shigaraki isn’t a reflection of Shigaraki himself, but rather the kind of hero Deku wants to be. It all boils down to Spiderman. In the opening issue of Spiderman, teenage Peter Parker is bitten by a radioactive spider and suddenly gains super strength, the ability to stick to walls along with other powers. However, being a teenager he uses these powers selfishly at first. He doesn’t feel the obligation to use his powers for other people, and therefore when he sees a robbery happening right in front of him he lets the robber go. However, because he lets the robber go, the robber then attempts to hijack a car and kills his Uncle Ben in the process. If Spiderman had stopped the robber then he might have prevented that from happening. He had the power to stop the robber, but he didn’t feel responsible or obligated to save other people. As a result Uncle Ben dies. It’s not enough to have power, ti’s how you use that power that reflects who you are, therefore: “with great power comes great responsibility.” 
The choice to save Shigaraki actually has little to do with whether or not Shigaraki is redeemable, but rather how Deku chooses to use his power, and what he thinks he is responsible for reflects who Deku is as a person.  Deku himself also clearly outlines how he wants to use his power, that One for All is a power for saving, and not killing. 
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How he uses his power reflects Deku’s ideal in saving others, and therefore if he doesnt use his power to save, then he’s failed to live up to his ideals. It's not whether it's morally right to save a murderer like Shigaraki, but rather the way Deku wants to choose to use his power. It's about whether he feels the responsibility to save others.
Judai explores an incredibly similar arc to Deku. They are basically both asked what kind of responsibilities a hero is supposed to have, which is also a metaphor for growing up to handle the responsibilities of adulthood. As both characters start out with incredibly naive and childish ideas about what a hero is. Therefore realizing what a hero is responsible for is key to them growing as a character.  However, Judai is different from Deku. In some ways he’s more like Bakugo. Judai is a prodigy who’s naturally good at dueling. He doesn’t duel to save others, but rather because duels are fun and he’s good at it. He’s very much like Bakugo, who admired All Might as a hero just as much as Deku did, but admired the fact that he was strong and always won rather than he saved others. 
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However, I would say both Deku and Judai are questioning what a hero is responsible for. They are both asking if they have the responsibility to use their power to save others. If they have to fight for other people, just because they have power. His first big challenge as a character comes from Edo Phoenix, who calls out Judai for not thinking through what it means to be a hero, and what responsibilities heroes carry. Judai duels because he thinks it’s fun. He will show up to duel to help his friends, but that’s because he’s the most powerful person in the group. Even then it’s because he finds fighting strong opponents to be enjoyable. Bakugo will beat up a villain, but for him it’s more about winning then if the action will save someone or not. 
Judai is more often than not pushed into the role of being a hero, he doesn’t play the hero because he’s a particularly selfless person, and he’ll often avoid responsibility if not forced. He has power but no sense of responsibility and the narrative calls them out as a problem. 
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Edo: Can you even fathom that, Judai?
For Judai, he can’t understand the responsibility of being a hero. For Deku, he idealizes heroes so much he can’t understand that there are people out there the heroes have failed to save. These two callouts towards Deku and Judai are discussing similar because they’re both discussing where a hero’s responsibilities lie. Is a hero responsible for saving everyone? Is someone strong like Judai responsible for using their strength to help other people? 
Judai’s arc continues into the third season where he’s not shown to just be naive but ignorant. He’s not just childish, he actively resists growing up because he doesn’t want to take on adult responsibilities. 
THe same way that Deku just decides not to think about whether or not All Might failed to save people in the panels above. However, in Judai's case he's actively called out for his choice to remain ignorant.
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Satou: Now, which one is at fault? Judai: Isn’t it the guy who saw it, but didn’t pick it up. Satou: Not quite. If one is aware of the trash that fell, it may be picked up someday. But there is no possibility fo the unaware one ever picking it up. Judai-kun you are the foolish one unaware of the trash that has fallen. Judai: Are you calling me out for how I am? Satou: Your behavior towards me was atrocious. The worst was attending class only for credit, even if you were there you only slept. Judai: Yeah, I know. I was all bad, but it wasn’t that big a- Satou: It is important. You see, one by one, the students inspired by your attitude were losing their motivation. Now if you were a mediocre duelist, then this would not be an issue. Satou: However, you are the same hero who defeated the three mythic demons. Every single student in the academy admires you. You should have been a model for this academy. Judai: Me, a role model? Are you kidding? I just do whatever I feel like doing. Satou: Great power comes with great responsibility. Yet, as you remain unaware of that, you’ve spread your lethargy and self-indulgence. 
seems like a minor issue, but look how Judai responds to the accusations. “I just do whatever I feel like doing.” Satou is arguing that Judai should pay attention to the influence he has on others because of his power, because how he chooses to use that power affects others. However, Judai chooses to actively not look at the consequences of his actions because he doesn’t want to take on that level of responsibility, and therefore he’s looking away from the trash. 
While it seems like it doesn’t matter in Satou’s specific example, not thinking of the consequences, or how you use your power can have unexpected consequences. Spiderman doesn’t feel like it’s his responsibility to stop a bank robber, and that bank robber shoots his uncle. You could still argue it’s not Spiderman’s responsibility to stop every crime in the world, and I guess no one owes anyone anything from that point of view - but Spiderman failing to act responsibility had the consequence of directly hurting someone else. 
Spiderman has to live with that consequence because it was his own Uncle that was hurt. This is where we really reach the duality of Judai. 
In GX, Judai is, symbolically speaking, The Fool of the Tarot Deck, the Novice Alchemist — a person brimming with infinite potential, yet one who is also supremely ignorant, who walks forward with his eyes closed and often unknowingly causes harm in his great ignorance. In this, he is very much the embodiment of the faults we most commonly associate with teenagers — selfishness, recklessness, shallowness, a lack of dedication or empathy when it’s most needed. Like most people, he has good traits that work to balance out some of the above, but his narrative path through GX ends up being that of the flawed hero undone by his faults — and then that of the atoner, the repentant sinner. In his case, the mistakes of his teenage years are the catalyst for his growth from a boy into a man burdened with duty and purpose.  Judai is someone with infinite potential, with great power, but also ignorant on how he should use that power, and that makes him an incredibly flawed hero who needs to learn how that power should be used. 
Deku similarly exists in a society where heroes deliberately turn a blind eye to the suffering of a certain type of victim. Shigaraki’s speech heavily resmebles Satou’s speech about garbage on the side of the road. 
Shigarali: "For generations you pretended not to see those you coudln't protect and swept their pain under the rug. It's tainted everything you've built."
Deku shares Judai’s ignorance, because he’s not only a part of a system that doesn’t even see trash on the side of the road, but he also worships heroes so much that he’s incapable of criticizing them. If Deku saw the flaws of heroes, but at first didn’t have the courage to speak out, but eventually gained the courage that would be one thing. However, if he doesn’t see the flaws of heroes, then the problem will never be fixed. 
There are also consequences for both Judai and Deku failing to use their powers responsibly. These consequences take the form of the villains who came about because of all of society’s ignorance to the suffering of victims (Shigaraki) and because of the main character’s ignorance to their suffering (Yubel). Shigaraki and Yubel are also explicitly victims that the heroes failed to save, turned into villains who are active threats to the heroes. 
Should I save the villain?
The answer is yes, because the decision to save is reflective of the kind of hero each character wants to be. Each story clearly sets up that Deku and Judai aren’t punisher style heroes who shoot their villains, they are being set up as heroes who save. Deku needs to “save by winning.” As for Judai, a big deal is made of Judai’s admiration for another character Johan who represents a more idealistic kind of hero. Johan unlike Judai is someone who duels with a purpose, something Judai outright says he admires because he’s empty in comparison. 
Judai: Johan what have you been dueling for? See, it’s about fun for me… Well, for the surprise and happiness too. I guess I do do it for the fun. Sorry, I guess I put you on the spot by asking out of nowhere. Johan: What’s this about Judai? Judai: It’s nothing. Johan: I suppose there is one goal I have. Johan: Even if someone doesn’t have the power to see spirits, they can still form a bond with a spirit. That’s why I do it for people like him. [...] Johan: I'll fight for everyone who believes in me, and I'll do it with my Duel Monsters. Judai: I'm jealous you've got feelings like those in you.
Becoming a hero who uses their power to help others isn’t just a goal the story sets for Judai, it’s a goal that Judai sets for himself because of his admiration for Johan. Johan represents the idealistic hero Judai wants to be, but is also held back from because of his personality flaws. Johan represents the kind of heroic ideal that Deku is aspiring to be. 
Johan’s ultimate goal isn’t punishing the wicked, but to use his power to save others. 
Johan: Judai, it was my dream to save everyone through my dueling!
The story sets up the idea that it’s not enough for Judai to simply be strong, he’s also challenged to become a savior who uses his power to help others like Johan. Deku needs to “save by winning” and Judai needs to “Save everyone through his dueling.” However, Johan also adds another condition to what saving means. His idea of saving isn’t to defeat a villain, but rather his dream is to help connect spirits and humans together, even if there are humans who can’t see spirits. Johan doesn’t save people with the power of physical force, but rather the power of human connection. 
Should I save the villain?
Here the answer is "Yes",  because wants to become more like Johan someone who uses their power to help others not just for themselves.  Then we reach the third question
If I don't save the villain, can I really call myself a hero?
It once again comes to power and responsibility. Heroes have great power, and they are responsible in how they use that power, if they use it irresponsibly then there are consequences. Shigaraki wants to destroy hero society, because the heroes irresponsibly use their power to turn a blind eye to everyone’s suffering. 
People suffer when heroes fail to live up to their responsibilities. The entire conflict of season 3 is created by Judai failing to save Yubel. If Judai had helped Yubel when they most needed it, instead of abandoning them, then Yubel would never have been twisted by the light of destruction, would never have attempted to teleport the school to another dimension, would never have attacked all of JUdai’s friends. 
These consequences matter. Deku can turn his eyes away from Shigaraki’s suffering, but let’s say a hero failed to stop a robbery, or rather he didn’t even try, and because of that his mom was shot and died in the street. Would Deku consider the man who failed to stop a bank robbery a hero? When Spiderman let a bank robber go instead of trying to stop him, was he being a hero in that moment? Both the stories and the characters themselves have defined heroes as people who use their powers to save others, therefore if Judai and Yubel fail to save their villains then they can’t be called heroes by the story’s own definition. Now let’s finally return to the question of "Can I save the villain?"
Was there ever someone you couldn’t save?
m going to start with Yu-Gi-Oh Gx as a positive example of how to save your villain. Gx works for two reasons. One, it’s established from the start that Yubel isn’t beyond salvation, and two, it makes it so Judai can’t win without saving Yubel. The conflict of the story does not end until Judai makes the decision to save Yubel.  In some ways the writing is even stronger because Judai is directly responsible for the pain and suffering that Yubel went through that turned them into a villain in the first place. Yubel isn’t just a victim, they’re specifically Judai’s victim. 
Yubel is a duel spirit who is also essentially Judai’s childhood friend. A duel spirit just like the kind that Johan wants to save. During their childhood Yubel got too overprotective of Judai, and started to curse his friends for making him cry or upsetting him in any way. Until everyone Judai’s age started avoiding him and Judai became all alone with only Yubel for company. Judai’s decision was to abandon Yubel at that time. He took the yubel card and shot them into space, hoping that being bathed in space rays will somehow “fix” what was wrong with them. I know that’s silly but just go with it. Judai abandoning Yubel had the unintended consequence of Yubel being subjected to the light of destruction, a corrupting light that subjected Yubel to years of pain. This pain literally takes the form of Yubel burning alive.
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Yubel connected to his dreams called out for Judai every night, only for Judai’s parents to give him surgery that repressed his memories of Yubel causing him to forget them entirely. Yubel then spent the next ten years alone in space, continuously subjected to painful torture, with their cries for help being ignored. 
"I was suffering even as you came to forget about me..."
Yubel is then met with the question of how can Judai treat them this way if they loved him so much? As from Yubel’s perspective, they’ve only ever tried to protect Judai, only for Judai to not only throw them away, but subject them to painful torture and ignore their cries for help. Judai effectively moves on with his life, goes to duel academy, makes friends while Yubel is left to suffer in silence all but forgotten. This is where Judai’s ignorance has serious plot consequences. 
It’s not just the pain that Yubel endured that made them snap. It’s that their pain went ignored. 
Yubel holds out the faint hope that Judai will answer their calls fro help until they finally burn up upon re-entry into earth’s orbit. At which point they’re left as nothing more than a single hand crawling on the ground.  Yubel who cannot fathom why Judai would cause them so much pain, and then forget about them, convinces themselves that Judai must be causing them pain, BECAUSE he loves them.
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But you see, I couldn't possibly forget about you in the time that I've suffered...
Judai is allowed to move on with his life, to make friends, to spend the next ten years doing so while Yubel is subjected to ten years of agony. When they finally escape their painful torment, they see all the friends Judai has made while they’re left alone and forgotten. However, Yubel’s goal isn’t revenge. Rather, it’s to make Judai share and recognize their pain. WHich is why I said it’s not the fact that they were made to suffer, but their suffering is ignored. Yubel’s entire philosophy revolves around the idea that sharing pain is an expression of love, and that they and Judai share their love for each other by hurting each other. 
"That's why I sought to fill all those linked to you, your world, with both sadness and anguish..."
For Yubel, making all of Judai’s friends suffer and Judai themselves suffer is a way of making them and Judai equals again. They want to show “their love” for Judai, but it’s more about forcing Judai to recognize the pain he’s caused them by forcing him through the same pain. Yubel’s philosophy of sharing pain is actually a twisted form of empathy. 
They’re not entirely wrong either, that even people who love each other can cause each other pain, and that if one person is suffering alone in a relationship or the suffering is one-sided then there’s something wrong with that relationship. 
Yubel: I get it now… You weren’t in love, with Echo. Yubel: No.. you may have loved her just enough to clear the conditions in palace for you to control Exodia, but the you didn’t truly love each other. Yubel: You were only unfairly hurting her, while you stayed unharmed. You wouldn’t suffer. You wouldn’t suffer. You wouldn’t be in pain. Amon: What are you getting at? Yubel: I’ve been hurt! I’ve suffered! I’ve been in pain. That’s why I’m making JUdai feel the same things I did! 
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Yubel’s twisted theory of love, is a pretty thinly veiled cry for empathy.
They break out into tears when talking to Amon about the way they’ve hurt and suffered. They clearly state upfront that their goal is for Judai to recognize their love. One of the first things they say to Judai is a plea for Judai to remember them.
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Yubel is presented as a very human character suffering through a lot of pain throughout their entire villai arc, they break down into tears multiple times, they cry out in agony, they're visibly suffering and you see their mental walls begin to break down when Judai denies them any empathy.
Yubel is actually incredibly clear and straightforward about their desire to be saved by Judai. However, Judai doesn’t lift a single finger to help Yubel the entire arc, even though they themselves admit they are directly responsible for Yubel’s suffering but they helped create who they are today. 
Judai plunges into a different dimension and gives up everything to save someone, but it’s Johan, not Yubel they try to save. You have Johan, the perfect friend, and perfect victim that Judai gets obsessed over and will not stop at anything to save, and then you have Yubel, the imperfect victim that is actively harming Judai and all of his friends that Judai chooses to ignore. The whole season Judai only focuses on saving the perfect victim Johan, and this is clearly shown to be a flaw. Judai doesn’t just ignore Yubel to save Johan, he also ignores every single one of his friends. 
Judai only caring about saving Johan, and deliberately ignoring and abandoning the friends who came with him to help, essentially abandoning them the way he did Yubel leads to another consequence. After he abandons them they get captured, rounded up, and actually die and become human sacrifices. 
Losing his friends, causes Judai to snap. Judai becomes the supreme king and decides power is all that matters; he starts killing duel spirits en masse in order to forge the super polymerization card.  Which means being left alone, suffering alone, being abandoned by everyone causes Judai to snap the exact same way that Yubel did. 
In fact Judai is only saved from his darkest moment, because two of his friends sacrifice their lives, trying to get through to him and appeal to his humanity. At that point Judai’s friends could have just chosen to put him down like a mad dog, to punish him for the amount of people he’s killed, but instead they try to save him because of their friendship. 
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I just want to save my friend. That is all.
By the time Judai is facing Yubel in their final fight, Judai doesn’t have the moral highground against Yubel in any way whatsoever. They’ve both lashed out because of the pain they endured and killed countless people in the process of lashing out.  The only real difference between them is that Judai is lucky. He had friends to support him at his lowest point, while Yubel didn’t. Does Judai learn from Jim’s example, and go out of their way to save Yubel the same way they were saved because Yubel is still a friend? Nope, Judai tries to kill Yubel at this point. 
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I made a lot of friends... And they all taught me something… real love is wide enough, large enough and deep enough to fill the universe. Your so-called love is only a conceited delusion.
Like, Judai, sweetie baby honey darling. How was Yubel supposed to make friends when they were floating in the empty void of space?
Judai hasn’t learned, they are still ignorant, and still turn a blind eye to Yubel’s suffering. After all if his love is wide enough, large enough,and deep enough to fill the universe then why don’t thy have any room in their heart whatsoever for empathizing with Yubel?
Judai making friends while Yubel was trapped in space doesn’t make Judai a better person than Yubel, it makes Judai lucky. Judai doesn’t even appreciate that luck, because he treats his friends like garbage. It’s not about whether Yubel is worthy of salvation, because Judai is a mass murderer and his friends still went to great lengths to save them anyway. It’s that Judai doesn’t want to empathize with Yubel, because they still want to remain ignorant and irresponsible. Judai wants to continue playing hero, with a very black and white definition of what a hero is. By this point Judai’s killed lots of people, but if he makes Yubel the villain in the situation, he can keep playing hero. He doesn’t have to look at himself and what he’s done, because blaming everything that happened on Yubel and then putting Yubel down like a mad dog allows Judai to absolve his own guilt. Judai practically ignores Yubel’s cries for help, even when Yubel spells it out for them.
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I couldn't have lived with the heartache unless I felt that I was being loved...
At this point Yubel themselves acknowledges that their love was just a delusion. That it was a coping mechanism, because they couldn’t live with all the pain otherwise. WIthout it they would have just died, which makes Judai unmoved. The implication here is that Judai thinks yes, Yubel should have just died in that crater. It would have been easier for Yubel to die a perfect victim, then for Yubel to crawl out of that crater and go on to hurt other people. While that may be true the same can be said for Judai - it would have been better if Judai died rather than become the Supreme King. His friends could have put him down like a mad dog, you could have even called that justice - but they didn’t. Judai making no attempt to save Yubel isn’t because he thinks it’s morally wrong to save someone who’s killed as many people as Yubel has, or because he thinks he can’t forgive Yubel, it’s because Judai is taking the easy way out. Johan is a nice, easy victim to save, because he’s Judai’s perfect boyfriend, while Yubel is a complex victim that requires Judai to understand their suffering. Even the act of saving Johan isn’t about Johan himself, it’s about the fact that Judai feels guilt over Johan’s disappearance. What Judai wants isn’t really to save a friend, but to stop feeling guilty over that friend. Judai isn’t just disgusted by Yubel’s actions towards his friend, he also wants to avoid the guilt he feels over causing all of Yubel’s suffering, because it requires acknowledging the complex reality that he is both victim and perpretrator in this case, just as Yubel is both victim and perpetrator. 
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So how can an arc where Judai doesn’t try to save Yubel until the last possible minute, be better than an arc where Deku makes it his goal for the final act of the manga to save the crying boy in Shigaraki? 
It’s because the story does not let Judai get away with his continual refusal to empathize with Yubel. Yubel’s entire character revolves around empathy, in the form of sharing pain. As a duel monster, Yubel’s effect is that they are a 0/0 attack monster who is immune to all damage, but when you attack them they deal all the damage back to you. Which means that Yubel will respond to all the pain they feel, by causing you just as much pain in return. Yubel is not a character who can be defeated in a fight, or a duel. In fact they’re the only Yu-Gi-Oh villain who never loses a duel once. The most Judai can do is duel them to a draw, and they draw three times. Yubel wins against everyone else who challenges them.  In a way Yubel is like Shigaraki, the ultimate, unkillable enemy that can’t be done away with violence. Judai’s refusal to empathize with Yubel or attempt communication also makes them worse, every time Yubel is hurt they escalate. THe more Judai hurts them, the more they will hurt in return, it’s a cycle that will never be broken simply by killing Yubel, because Yubel is unkillable. 
Not only that but the story has gone to great lengths to show that saving Yubel is the correct course of action. If Judai doesn’t save Yubel, he’s basically spitting on the selflessness Jim showed in saving him. In fact if he doesn’t save Yubel, Judai is contradicting his own words on what makes a good friend. Sho once asks Judai after witnessing his brother change, what he should do if a person you lov ehas changed into an entirely different person. What if they're a person you don't even recognize any more? A person you don’t even necessarily like anymore? 
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That's why if it were me. I'd probably just be looking after him until the very end, even if I didn't like him. I'd do it cause I think it'd prove that I care about him.
Judai doesn't even say that Sho is obligated to save his brother or morally redeem him, just that he has to keep looking at him instead of turning away or ignoring him.
Judai is being a bad friend, by his own definition. By choosing to deliberately look away from Yubel, Judai’s not living up to his advice for Sho for how you treat people you care about. 
Which is why the resolution for Judai and Yubel’s arc is so important, because it’s done by Judai finally acknowledging Yubel’s pain, and promising to watch over them from now on, words that are followed by the action of physically fusing their souls together so they’ll never be alone again.  Judai doesn’t just say pretty words about how they won’t ignore the crying child inside of Yubel, but instead he makes a sacrifice to save Yubel at risk to themselves to show their words are backed up by actions. Judai says Yubel will never be alone again, and then he commits. 
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"And even if that means I won't exist anymore... I don't care."
Judai has resolved his character arc by this action, because Judai is finally taking on responsibility and that responsibility is watching over Yubel, so the two of them can atone together. Judai even says himself this isn’t an act of sacrifice on his part, but rather him finally accepting adult responsibilities. 
Judai: I wouldn't sacrifice myself for you guys. I'm just going on a journey to grow from a kid into a man.
Judai needed to save Yubel to complete his character arc and grow as a person. If Judai hadn’t saved Yubel, he would have still remained an ignorant child. By learning not to turn a blind eye to Yubel’s pain, and also smacking sacrifices and physically doing something to atone for the way they ignored Yubel up until this point they’ve not only saved Yubel they’ve also done something to address their wrongs. This also continues into the fourth season where Judai’s personal growth results in him learning what kind of hero he wants to be as in Season 4 in order to atone for the spirits that Judai slaughtered, he decides to leave his friends behind and walk the earth with Yubel helping spirits and humans get along with each other. In fact Judai’s final speech as a character isn’t even about how strong he is as a hero, but how weak he is as a person.
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And I put my friends through some rough times. Form that, I figured a few things out... all I can do is believe in them.
The lesson Judai learned is because he’s weak, he needs to empathize and believe in other people the same way that his friends once believed in him when he was at his lowest point. Judai’s not the strongest hero, he’s the weakest one, but that gives him the ability to empathize with people who were lost just like he was, and guide them back from the darkness. 
The story of how Deku became the worst hero.
I’m going to say this right now it might turn out next week that Shigaraki is just fine, and he’ll use the overhaul quirk to reconstruct his body. However, even if that happens Deku has completely failed at his goal of saving Shigaraki for the reasons I’ll illustrate below. In theory, Deku’s arc of saving Shigaraki, and therefore winning by saving should be much easier for the story to accomplish and also much less frustrating to watch. After all, Shigaraki has been around since the beginning of the manga, he’s literally the first villain that Deku faces. He’s also the first villain that Deku talks to, where he brings up the idea that there were some people All Might failed to save. There’s also many intentional parallels between the two characters, the entire manga is about their parallel journeys of becoming the next generation hero and the next generation villain. Shigaraki even directly quotes the line at one point that all he wanted was for someone in his house to tell him he could still be a hero, the same line Deku said in the first chapter was that he wanted his mom to tell him to be a hero instead of apoalogizing to him for being quirkless. 
Not only is the setup for Shigaraki and Deku made obvious (Deku can redeem Shigaraki by telling him that he can still be a hero too), but Deku himself states out loud that he wants to save the crying child inside of Shigaraki. 
Judai runs away from Yubel the whole time, whereas Deku is running towards Shigaraki and actively makes it his goal to understand Shigaraki and continue to see him as a human being rather than a villain.  The story also makes it clear that saving Shigaraki is necessary to saving hero society as a whole. After all Yubel is just Judai’s victim. Whereas Shigaraki is the victim of all of society. He’s the crying child who was ignored. The cycle won’t be broken if heroes continue choosing to ignore people like Shigaraki, because more victims will grow up to replace him. 
Shigaraki: Everything I've witnessed, this whole system you've built has always rejected me. Now I'm ready to reject it. That's why I destroy. That's why I took this power formyself? Simple enough, yeah? I don't care if you don't understand. That's what makes us heroes and villains.
Shigaraki rejects the world because the world continues to reject him. THe solution to this problem is not rejecting Shigaraki, because Shigaraki won’t go away, the system will just continue to reject people like Shigaraki. As long as heroes and villains don’t understand each other, they’ll keep being forced to fight and the conflict won’t end, because hero society is what engineers it’s own villains.
clear as day by the story itself. If the objective of saving Shigaraki is clear, then how exactly did the story fail in this objective? What went wrong? In this case it’s a failure of framing, and breaking the rules of “show don’t tell.” Stories are all about actions and consequences. When a character makes a certain action in a story, the way other characters around them, the world, and whatever consequences that action frames that action in a certain light. It provides context for how we are supposed to interpret that character in that moment. 
For example, when a character does something wrong and another character directly confronts them over what they did wrong, that frames them as in the wrong. The story is criticizing the character for what they did wrong. Context is everything in a story. Stories are just ideas, so they require framing and context to communicate those ideas for the audience. Certain character attributes can be strengths or flaws depending on the context. My go to example is that if you put Othello in Hamlet, the conflict would be resolved in five seconds because Othello’s straightforward personality and determination would have him kill Hamlet’s uncle without questioning things. Whereas, Hamlet constantly questioning and second guessing himself would lead to the worst ending possible. However, if you put Hamlet in Othello, then Hamlet wouldn’t fall prey to Iago’s manipulations, because Othello doubts and questions everything so he wouldn’t believe Iago the way Othello did. 
Hamlet’s contemplative and introverted nature can be a strength in one situation, and a flaw in another. Othello’s tendency to act without thinking things through can be a strength in one situation, and a flaw in another. Context matters, because context tells you how you’re supposed to interpret a certain characters actions, and therefore tells you more about that character. This is why people repeat “Show don’t tell” as the golden rule of storytelling, it’s one thing to say something about a character, it’s another to us the characters actions in the story itself to show them something about the character. 
What’s even worse then breaking the rules of show don’t tell however, is telling the audience one thing, and then going onto show in the narrative something completely different. In that case the narrative becomes muddled and confusing to read. If I the narrator say “Hamlet is someone who overthinks everything” and then in the story Hamlet walks up to his uncle and kills him with no hesitation, then the narrator is straight up unreliable. It becomes impossible to tell as an author what message I’m trying to get across about these characters, because I’m telling you one thing and showing another. 
This is why the writing fails in the second half of My Hero Academia because we are constantly told one thing, but then the story shows something entirely different and sometimes even contradictory to the thing we are being told. 
Judai is a much worse hero than Deku, he always runs away from Yubel, and we’re never directly told that he’s supposed to save Yubel either. However, the narrative is incredibly consistent. Judai’s behavior of running away is consistent with his character. All the other character call Judai selfish for abandoning his friends (and they’re not even talking about Yubel). Judai is never painted in any positive light for his actions, therefore we as the audience understand Judai’s behavior is wrong and he needs to fix it. The narrative makes it clear that Judai needs to grow up, and Judai is never rewarded for his refusal to grow up, he’s ruthlessly chewed out, not by his enemies but also by his own friends. However, the narrative isn’t merciless on him either. Season 3 of GX is dark, but it’s not grimdark. Even when Judai loses his way, he’s still shown love and compassion by those same friends who go to great lengths for his sake. The narrative criticize Judai but it never insists that he’s beyond redemption and needs to be put down like a mad dog. 
The message is very clear, that not only does Judai need to grow up, but he also deserves the chance to grow and change, which is why he should give Yubel a similar chance. In comparison the story sets out this clear narrative arc for Deku of understanding Shigaraki, but it never challenges him for failing to understand Shigaraki. If you listen to what the narrative says, how other characters describe Deku, and what Deku himself says and only read it on a surface level then yes, Deku’s goal is to save Shigaraki. If you analyze actions however, he is in effect just like Judai he never takes any meaningful action or steps towards Shigaraki, nor does he think of what saving Shigaraki might look like or entail. 
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The story describes Deku as someone who is possessed by a drive to save others that eclipses all common understanding, but does the story give us any examples of that behavior?
Judai is characterized as a selfish, irresponsible child, and the story gives us countless examples of his immaturity and how it hurts others. Does the story of MHA do the same for Deku's purported virtues? Let’s run through Deku’s actions, step by step, the actions themselves and how they are framed in order to find any evidence that Deku possesses this drive to save others. Does Deku reflect at all on the question of:
Can Shigaraki be Saved?
Deku leaves on a journey to try to understand villains. When he makes a perfunctory attempt to understand and empathize with Muscle, and Muscle replies that some people are just evil does Deku keep trying to reach his heart? Nope, he just punches him. 
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Well, if he’s failed in his goal of understanding a villain then does the story call him out on his failure? Does Deku face any sort of narrative consequence for that failure? Is he framed negatively for failing to understand Muscle, the same way that Judai is framed for abandoning Yubel? Nope. Deku doesn’t express any frustration at all over is inability to reason with Muscle. There’s also no negative consequence for Deku just choosing to punch muscle, it turns out that there was no reasoning with Muscle and some people are just bad eggs so Deku was right. It’s okay for characters to fail, but if a character fails and it’s not framed by the story as a failure then the writing itself as failed. Why even bother to include this scene in the first place if it doesn’t advance Deku’s character in any way? This scene in spite of showing Deku failing to understand someone actively paints Deku in a positive light, because of how much stronger he is ow that he can OHKO a guy that gave him trouble all the way back in the camp arc.
This scene doesn’t tell anything about Deku as a character, it just makes him look cool. In fact that’s precisely the problem, Deku isn’t adequately challenged as a character, because he’s never allowed to fail. Even when he does obviously fail at the things the narrative set out for him to do, he’s never challenged on those failures, because the priority isn’t to make Deku grow, it’s to make Deku look good.  As I said before, Judai is the hero because he’s the weakest. Deku is the hero because he’s the strongest. Well, next a big flaw on Deku’s part is that he worshippd the same heroes that were making the world corrupt. Heroes like Endeavor who created people like Dabi. So, does Deku take action to either criticize the older generation of heroes, or separate himself from them in order to try to be better than them? Nope, he teams up with them. Not only that, Deku can’t do something as simple as tell Gran Torino out loud about his plans to save Shigaraki. If Deku feels that Shigaraki is worthy of salvation then he should at least try to make an argument here about his ideal of saving others.
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Now here’s the thing, if Deku hadn’t directly looked at the camera and told us he wanted to save Shgiaraki, would we be able to deduce his intentions from his actions? If you took away all of Deku’s internal monologue, and just showed him punching Muscular and saying nothing when Gran Torino says he may have no choice but to kill Shigaraki would anything about Deku’s actions indicate that he wants to save Shigaraki? Let me use avatar the last airbender as a positive example for a moment. People say that Aang’s desire to spare Ozai’s life comes out of left field, but like if you analyze Aang as a character down to their bending, and the way they react in situations they always prefer de-escalation, or taking a third option as opposed to confronting things head on. It’s literally why Toph says Aang has trouble learning earth bending, because as an airbender, he always tries to look for some other way to solve the problem, instead of a direct confrontation with force. As early as season one, Aang tells Zuko someone who has tried to kill him several times that he was friends with someone from the fire nation one hundred years ago and in a different situation they could be friends. Aang’s desire to save the Firelord may not have been told to us until the last possible minute, but Aang’s aversion to violence has always been a part of his character from the beginning. However, Deku never shows any similar aversion to violence. There’s basically no example where he ever tries to de-escalate a situation, or he avoids a conflict by seeking a third option. 
Anyway, let’s move onto the next example. In the confrontation where Lady Nagant fights Deku, when Deku learns the fact that the heroes were employing government hitmen to attack people for uhh… exercising free speech does Deku give any reaction to this information? When Lady Nagant says that Deku is only going to bring back the status quo, does he show her any meaningful evidence that he won’t do that.
Deku’s response is because the world is so grey, he needs to extend a helping hand to others. Which you know what thay could be a response. Deku saying that his response to the corruption of the hero world is that he now understands that society led some people down the wrong path, so his way of addressing the wrongs of that society is lending a helping hand to as many people as possible even people he used to think was irredeemable. 
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I will give Deku the benefit of the doubt, I think this is an acceptable answer. I can’t save everyone, but that’s not going to stop me from trying to save as many people as possible and maybe I can save people who were this society’s victims on the way too.  However, does Deku demonstrate his resolve to extend a helping hand in any meaningful way. 
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Deku is met with an armless, insane Overhaul who’s begging for someone to help heal his father figure in the Yakuza from his coma. This isn’t like Muscular who insists that there’s no helping him, Deku is met face by face with someone asking him for help. Deku’s gotta extend a helping arm whenever he can, because he knows some people were abandoned and led astray by this society… Unless that person is someone he doesn’t like personally. At which point he only helps them on a conditional basis. We are told Deku will save anyone and everyone, but Deku is met face to face with an armless man who is begging for help and Deku’s does nothing to help him. Deku’s not criticized for refusing to help overhaul either, it’s never brought up again. When Deku begins to experience a mental breakdown because of all the people he’s trying to help in the Dark Deku arc, we are told this is the result of Deku trying to save everyone, but we do not see Deku attempting to save a single villain after Muscular and Nagant. 
He exhausts himself beating up villains that AFO sends after him, and only helping innocent civilians. Which would be fine if this arc were about how Deku is running away from his real responsibilities the same way that Judai was running, but that’s not what we’re being told. We are told that this is all part of an arc of Deku learning to understand villains and be a hero.
Deku is asked “Can you save Shigaraki?” by the story, but Deku never at any point has to deliberate on that question. Judai doesn’t deliberate on that question either, but him choosing not to think about things and stay ignorant is the point. 
It’s actually fine to make Deku stagnate as a character. It’s fine to have him take the easy way out by just punching villains and giving up on them after one conversation. It’s fine for him to be empathetic to other people’s suffering, or even self-righteous. It’s fine for him to be ignorant. 
He could be all of those things if it was a part of a narrative teaching him to unlearn his behavior. In fact the narrative might have been better if Deku started out by saying he didn’t want to save Shigaraki, that there was no choice but to kill him, because then at least his actions would be consistent with his words. Then his lack of empathy and his tendency to resort to violently beating up villains instead of avoiding violence would be character flaws he could work on. Deku however, is presented to us as this empathic hero who is always willing to give others a second chance though he never actually sticks his neck out in order to do so. Continuing on with our slow crawl through MHA, one of Deku’s friends is revealed as the traitor. Deku has a heartwarming scene fo saying that Aoyama can still be a hero, but look at his actions. He lets the adults in the room physically tie Aoyama in a straightjacket and imprison him, for the crime of… doing bad things while he was in a hostage situation. Apparently, if a bank teller helps the bank robber by giving them money when the robber has a gun to his head, the swat team should just snipe the bank teller. Not only does he not defend Aoyama against the adults, or stand up for him, or tell the adults they’re wrong to treat Aoyama a clear cut victim who had a gun to his head and was bing held hostage like he’s a villain - he also lets the adults use Aoyama an innocent victim as bait in order to lure out AFO.  Deku tells Aoyama he can still be a hero, but he doesn’t defend Aoyama as a victim of being taken hostage, nor does he stop the adults from further taking advantage of him and throwing him right into danger. Some people are just led the wrong way that’s why they need to be extended a helping hand, but fuck Aoyama I guess. He needs to earn the right to be sympathized with by physically putting his life in danger. 
Deku can’t even go out of his way to save a friend who he’s known for the better part of a year, when that friend is a complex victim forced to do bad things. 
Then Deku and Uraraka have a conversation where they both, kind of ruminate on the idea that maybe the villains are human beings who are worthy of sympathy.
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In fact Uraraka is actively trying to dehumanize Toga by looking at the destroyed city, so she won't have to think of Togaas a person.
The language here is also a major fault of this arc. It focuses far too hard on “forgiveness” over and over again. As I said before, saving Shigaraki isn’t about Shigaraki at all, it’s about Deku, and how he wants to use his power as a hero. Deku has even stated himself that he doesn’t believe that OFA is a power that should be used for killing people. So why does whether Toga or Shigaraki are forgivable or not even matter? It’s the same with Deku refusing Overhaul any sympathy. If he’s so morally opposed to abusers, then why does he work with Endeavor and defend him at every visible opportunity, even in front of his victims? Whether or not Deku can forgive Shigaraki doesn’t matter, because Deku is not the moral arbitrator or right and wrong. In fact Deku doesn’t even have any morals, so how is this a moral debate? Is there any point where Deku gives a clear definition of what he thinks right and wrong is? Does he quot Immanuel Kant to the audience? 
Batman doesn’t kill people, not because he thinks that every last person on earth can be saved, but because Bruce Wayne an incredibly rich white man thinks that maybe he shouldn’t have the authority to decide who lives and who dies. When Bruce doesn’t kill the joker, it doesn’t mean he thinks the Jokers actions are forgivable, it’s because Bruce thinks it’s not his place to determine whether someone has the right to live. 
The whole conflict that MHA presents us is that heroes pick and choose who to save, and only save the ones they deem as innocent. So, how does Deku saying repeatedly they can’t forgive Shigaraki contribute to that theme in any way? In fact by focusing on forgiveness, rather than whether or not he personally has the right to pick and choose who lives and who dies Deku is ignoring the elephant in the room. The question isn’t about whether Shigaraki’s redeemable or if his deeds should ever be forgiven. The question is whether Deku has the right to decide who gets saved and who doesn’t. 
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We are told that Deku as a character is someone who wants to save everyone no matter what, so Deku shouldn’t be focusing on whether or not Shigaraki is worthy of forgiveness, he should be making an idealistic argument like Xavier does in this panel. Why doesn’t Deku talk out loud with Uraraka on how he believes his power is for saving others, and not killing? If he’s meant to represent some idealistic hero, then why doesn’t he even talk about his ideals? Why don’t I as the reader know what those ideals are?
I think Xavier’s ideals of forcing the X-men to provide a good example to the mutant community, in order to try to earn the respect of other human beings is wrong, but at least he has ideals.  He tries to inspire the other people around him to live up to those ideals. The story can criticize him for his ideals and point out how they’re wrong, while it can also uplift parts of his idelogy like where he believes there are no evil mutants. Deku has a chance to do the same to Uraraka, to tell her clearly, “I don’t think we as heroes have the right to pick and choose who we help…?” but he waffles. Not only does he waffle, but this moment is meant to be read as an indication that both Deku and Uraraka are sympathetic individuals who want to save their villains. They are supposed to look good and idealistic here and they don’t. For Deku it just seems like a repeat of his behavior with Overhaul. The only villains that are worthy of sympathy, are the ones that he personally decides are forgivable. 
The story isn’t about whether or not it’s moral to save someone who’s killed as many as Shigaraki has. The story never seriously discusses any sort of complex morality or moral philosophy. Once again to bring up avatar, yes you can argue Aang sparing the life of a war crimminal is bad, but Aang mentions on multiple occasions that he wants to retain the cultural values of the airbending people. Aang has a morality, a consistent morality, it might not be a morality you personally agree with but at least he has one. Deku hates abusers, unless he’s next to Endeavor then he thinks abusers should be given the chance to atone. Deku doesn’t believe that One for All is a power for killing, but he never stands up to any of the adults who are blatantly trying to kill Shigaraki, he doesn’t even express out loud to Uraraka that he doesn’t think heroes have the right to decide who lives and who dies. In fact he’s given the perfect opportunity to, when Hawks kills a villain and it’s broadcast live on the news in font of everyone, but Deku never has anything to say about that. The reason Deku and Uraraka both put such an emphasis on “forgiving” their villains has nothing to do with the story itself. It’s because the author Horikoshi, is afraid that some people will misinterpret his story as saying that he actually thinks that saving a villain like Shigaraki means that he condones mass murder, so he has to have the characters talk about not forgiving Shigaraki. 
Judai doesn’t have any consistent morals either, but once again that’s the point and something the story relentlessly calls him out on.
Cobra: Fortune would never smile on a fool like you who fights while prattling on about enjoying duels.  Cobra: You are certainly a talented duelist. But you have one fatal flaw.  Judai: A fatal flaw? Cobra: Yes, your duels are superficial. Someone who fights with nothing on his shoulders, cannot recover once he loses his enjoyment. What a duelist carries on his shoulders will become the power that supports him when he's up against the wall! Cobra: But you have nothing like that! Those who go through life without anything like that cannot possibly seize victory.  Cobra: But I know that nothing I say will resonate with you... because you have nothing to lose but the match.  Judai: I...  Cobra: Afraid aren't you? Right now, you have nothing to support you. 
Judai’s regularly called out for his superficiality. Judai is only a hero because he’s strong and wins fight, he doesn’t feel any responsibility towards other people, and in fact he loathes having to feel responsible for others. Judai isn’t just naive, he deliberately chooses to remain ignorant. Since he’s ignorant of his own faults, he makes awful decisions when it comes time for him to lead, and his friends die because of choices he made. We are told that Deku doesn’t want to remain ignorant, that he wants to understand villains, but Deku’s actual actions are him continuing to ignore society’s ills and the suffering of victims. In fact if you take away Deku’s internal monologue and the narration, Deku’s actions almost exactly mirror Judai’s.
Deku is just as superficial as Judai, and he also doesn't want to spend any time thinking about what kind of hero he wants to be, but the narrative never punishes him for it.
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Judai is asked what burdens he has to bear and he has to meaningfull answer that question, Deku is allowed to get away with not having to think about anything. Deku remains superficial. Both Judai and Deku spend the entire arc running away from their villain rather than confronting them in any meaningful way. They both never express out loud any sympathy for their villain, or try to empathize. THey both never step down from the role of hero, and only confront their villain as a hero, because they don’t want to think about themselves as complicit or in the wrong. Shigaraki and Deku’s final confrontation mirrors Judai and Yubel’s but without the same clear framing. THe entire time Yubel is trying to get Judai to empathize with them, and Judai only responds with physical violence, because they don’t want to stop being the hero and because they can’t see Yubel as anything other than the villain.  As soon as Deku arrives on the battlefield (by the way everyone else and their mom pointed this out, but Deku who doesn’t think OFA is a power for killing, is completely okay with a plan called the “Sky coffin plan” where every other hero was clearly trying to murder Shigaraki).
When Deku arrives he asks if Shigaraki is still in there, but he doesn’t do anything to try to reach Shigaraki, he jumps right to punching him. In fact he never tries anything besides punching him as hard as possible. How is punching Shigaraki with the force of a thousand suns saving him exactly? How is that different from how he tried to defeat Shigaraki the last war arc, before he saw the image of the crying child that made him want to try a different approach in saving Shigaraki?  In Judai’s final fight with Yubel, it’s made explicitly clear that Judai is not trying to save Yubel, and that’s a fault on his part. In fact Judai gives the traditional “I have friends, and you don’t” speech to Yubel but it’s a subversion of how that speech is usually used. Usually that speech is used to show that the protagonist won because of they valued friendship,while the villain treated their friends poorly and only cared about power. However, it’s ironic in this case because Judai got all of his friends killed. Judai treats his friends like garbage. This speech isn’t used to show that Judai is winning because he values his friends more than Yubel does, it shows that Judai is a hypocrite, playing the hero in this situation where they are just as bad as Yubel. Judai’s not morally superior, he’s just lucky that he has good friends. Friends that were willing to save him. The only connection Yubel has to anyone else, Yubel’s only friend is Judai and Judai is a shit friend. 
In fact, Mirio tries to give a version of the “You don’t have any friends” speech to Shigarkai, only for Shigaraki to get mad and tell Mirio that he does have friends and people he wants to protect. 
This fact is also something that is blatantly ignored by Deku, even though Mirio tells him about it… even though we are told that Deku is trying his best to see the humanity in Shigaraki. 
Judai blatantly admits they’re trying to kill Yubel. Which makes them a worse person, but a better character than Deku, because their actions are clearly framed by the narrative and consistent. 
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On the other hand we are told that Deku doesn’t want to kill Shigaraki, and yet everything Deku does makes it look like he’s just trying to kill Shigaraki and put him out of its misery. If we didn’t have Deku stating out loud that he wants to save Shigaraki and wants to see him as a human, there’d be nothing in his actions to indicate that he’s trying to avoid killing Shigaraki. Deku says he can’t pretend he didn’t see Shigaraki crying, but like, does he ever hesitate to punch Shigaraki, does he ever think that causing Shigaraki more harm is wrong when he’s already suffered so much? Deku says that Shigaraki is a person but does he treat him like a person? Does he try to talk to him like a person? To use avatar again, Aang does talk to Zuko pretty early on. Deku doesn’t even give the classic “We could have been friends under different circumstances” speech. When Shigaraki resists Deku’s attempts to see him as a person or emapthize with him, Deku’s response is to just resort to punching harder. 
Which is in effect the same thing Judai does to Yubel, just kill them as a villain so they don’t hurt anybody else, but framed in an entirely different light. Judai is shown to be ruthless, and cold in his attempt to only settle the conflict with Yubel by violently putting them down. On the other hand we’re being told that Deku is compassionate and empathic while he punches Shigaraki with the force of a thousand suns. 
There’s another eerie similarity between both of these final confrontations. At the climax of the confrontation, both Judai and Deku have a psychic vision where they see events from Yubel and Shigaraki’s childhood. This vision is supposed to help both characters understand the good in the villain they’re facing.
Let’s see the contents of this vision and how the visions change each character. Judai is shown a vision of his past life where Yubel sacrifices their entire body, and even their humanity to go through painful surgery to turn into an ugly dragon, all for the sake of protecting Judai in a previous life. 
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Judai is then forced to witness the good side of Yubel they’ve been ignoring all along to paint them as a villain. Yubel is simultaneously extremely selfish and willing to hurt people Judai cares about, but they’re also extremely selfless and will do anything to protect Judai and have made great sacrifices in the past for Judai’s sake. Deku gives lip service to not ignoring the humanity in Shigaraki, but Judai is literally forced to acknowledge the humanity in Yubel. Not only that, but Judai changes his behavior immediately after learning this new information. After seing the sacrifice that Yubel made for him in the past, Judai responds with a sacrifice of his own. A sacrifice that perfectly mirrors the sacrifice that Yubel once made for him. Yubel gave up their humanity for Judai, so Judai fuses his spirit to Yubel’s, becoming a human / spirit hybrid so Yubel no longer has to be alone. 
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Judai also doesn’t just fuse their soul with Yubel’s in order to stop Yubel from destroying everything, it’s because both of them at this point need to atone together, and Judai is fulfilling his responsibility of watching over his friend until the end to prove that you care about them - as he said to Sho. Judai’s also fulfilling Johan’s dream of helping repair the bonds between spirits and humans, by reconciling with Yubel and repairing their bond. It’s also Judai atoning for his previous behavior of abandoning Yubel, by choosing to stay alongside them as they both atone together. Deku does sacrifice OFA during the fight against Shigaraki, but their sacrifice isn’t to help Shigaraki, but rather doing psychic damage to Shigaraki by using OFA is the only way to defeat them. He transfers OFA in order to break Shigaraki’s brain so he’ll stop reissting and Deku can beat him down. Judai fuses their soul together with Yubel out of empathy and a responsibility they feel to help their friend fater abandoning them, Deku transfers One for All to Shigaraki in order to hurt him and make him easier to punch. It's funny that Deku doesn't travel to Shigaraki's mind to learn more about him, but instead with the specific intent of harming him.
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Once he's inside Shigaraki's mind, he doesn't take time to reflect on how Shigaraki used to stand up for bullied kids, or how he wants to be a hero to villains because no one else will stick up for the outcasts in society. No, he only care about Shigaraki when he takes the form of a child crying for help.
In the aftermath of the psychic vision Deku’s behavior doesn’t change towards Shigaraki in any way either. You could say he sacrificed his own arms in order to try to comfort Shigaraki within the depths of his own mind - but that’s not a real sacrifice either because his arms immediately come back.  When Judai learns about the sacrifice that Yubel made in a previous life towards him, he stops seeing Yubel as an enemy and finds a way to resolve things peacefully between them. When Deku lanterns that Shigaraki’s a victim of All for One, and that his entire life was a lie, when he sees Shigaraki’s suffering first hand does his beavior twoards Shigaraki change in any way? 
When he sees Afo has taken over Shigaraki’s body again, does he try to shout for Shigaraki, to tell Shigaraki to fight from the inside, to reassure Shigaraki that he’s still in there that there’s still good in him? Nope. He just punches Shigaraki some more.
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What Deku needed to tell Shigaraki is so obviously set up by the narrative too. Shigaraki wanted just one person in that house to tell him he could be a hero. Deku wanted his mother to tell him he could be a hero if he was quirkless. Deku sees that Shigaraki started out as a boy who wanted to be a hero, and who was manipulated into being a villain but does he try to appeal to the boy inside of Shigaraki by telling him he can still be a hero? Does he now see the good in Shigaraki? Nope, he just tries to kill him by punching him really hard. 
I purposefully chose the images for the banner of this post, because it shows how differently MHA and GX treated its villains in the end. Yubel is embraced by Judai in the end, Shigaraki evaporates into dust.
"Judai, now that our souls have become one we will never be separated again. I have now been filled with your love and power. Let us fight together, against the wave of light leading this universe to destruction!"
Shigaraki could so easily have been given the love and empathy that Yubel was shown, but instead their life ends with no show of empathy from Deku, and with them dying believing that their long life of tragedy meant nothing in the end. Shigaraki realizes he's a crying kid, but he's never comforted.
Shigaraki: I only stole my body back from Master, and I didn't destroy anything. "In the end, I was just as you said... A crying kid, huh?"
Yubel is embraced and comforted, Shigaraki disintegrates into nothing.
One of these stories is apparently an optimistic story about heroes saving people, but it ends with the lifelong victim being killed in the most nihilistic manner possible, never receiving comfort, and never achieving anything with his long life.
The other story is a silly anime about card games, shows that when people are alone and suffering they can lash out and do terrible things. That all people are weak especially when they're alone, but the solution isn't to abandon them, or condemn them for their faults, but to believe in them and help uplift them the same way that Judai decides to uplift Yubel so they can atone together.
Which is why Deku gets an F in being a hero. Go directly to summer school. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $100. 
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anthurak · 8 months
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Something I’ve often found really compelling in Adventure Time is how The Grass Sword/Grass Demon/Fern found up becoming one of the most prominent and disturbing antagonists of the series pretty much by complete accident.
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Like it’s easy to forget after Fern has become such a prominent character both in the show and fandom, but the ‘curse’ of the Grass Longsword started out and spent much of the show entirely benign. All it really did was cause the sword to stick to Finn. If anything, the sword/curse was quite beneficial to Finn, providing him with a prosthetic arm and activating on several instances to protect him. Really, the entire point of the original Blade of Grass episode was that the sword was actually pretty useful.
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It was only AFTER stabbing and later merging with the Finn Sword to create Fern that the ‘curse’ started becoming actively malicious.
In hindsight, I think it’s pretty clear that while the Grass Spider/Octopus/Demon ‘curse’ entity within the Grass Sword may have been malicious, for the longest time it had no way of actually controlling or otherwise influencing Finn. The sword may have bonded to Finn’s body, but NOT to his mind, or more importantly his soul. This left Finn free to use the sword, and later even the grass-prosthetic freely without any danger or corruption from the curse.
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But then Finn accidentally used it to stab the Finn Sword. As we see in Two Swords, this for the first time gave the Grass Demon/Curse direct access to a soul, the soul of the alternate Finn within the Finn Sword. A soul that it was able to corrupt and influence and ultimately merge with to create Fern.
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This is one of those things that I think a lot of the fandom seems to miss: Fern isn’t some quirky doppelganger or a ‘brother’ to Finn. He is straight up a distorted, corrupted version OF Finn (the alternate iteration of him within the Finn Sword) manifested by the CURSE of the Grass Sword.
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As in, basically EVERYTHING Fern does that deviates from the ‘norm’ that is Finn can be considered the work OF the curse. From more overt stuff like his tendency to ‘stab first, ask questions later’ or the times he ‘flips out’, to more subtle things like his brooding or just the fact that he has a noticeably different voice (the voice of the Grass Demon mind you), ALL of these are the product of the Curse.
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And it’s this fact which makes Fern a truly tragic character. Because he was effectively doomed from the very start. Despite Fern’s attempts to do good and Finn’s and Jake’s attempts to accept him as his own person, Fern simply could not escape the curse’s influence. Because that curse was the very thing that created and maintained his physical body. It WAS his body. And this curse wanted nothing but to subvert, influence and ultimately CONTROL him for its own ends.
I think we can very easily assume that all of Fern’s failures, all his insecurities, everything that drove him to turning on Finn and trying to kill him and becoming the Green Knight in the final season, ALL of that was the result of the curse’s influence. Trying to whittle and break down Fern’s will so that it could mold him into whatever it wanted. And there was NOTHING Fern could do to stop this. Because the curse made itself a core part of what he was.
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When Finn and Fern finally enter his mental world and destroy the Grass Demon in Come Along With Me, we see Fern as he truly is: simply another version of Finn who has been corrupted by the curse.
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And with the Grass Demon dead, there is nothing to maintain Fern’s physical body, causing him to soon fade away. In order for this alternate Finn to be saved, he couldn’t exist as ‘Fern’.
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Of course this also means that ‘Fern’ didn’t actually DIE at the end of the series. He simply reverted back to his true form: The Finn Sword.
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And what I find so compelling and tragic about all this is that NONE of it had to actually happen. The Finn within the Finn Sword didn’t need to be put through all this suffering. Like it seems pretty clear that the Finn that become the Finn Sword was perfectly content being a sword. He didn’t need to be corrupted and spend the last two and half seasons being manipulated by a grass octopus demon.
Because when you think about it, ALL of this happened by accident. If Finn hadn’t lost the Finn Sword to Bandit Princess, or if he’d been able to simply avoid stabbing it with the Grass Sword during his fight with her, NONE of this would have happened. Finn would still have the Finn Sword and the Grass Sword would have likely remained benign and helpful to him. Heck, given how Finn seems to fully regain the use of the Grass Sword in his fight with Bandit Princess, he probably would have been able to duel-wield the Grass Sword and Finn Sword together.
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This is really what I find to be the tragedy of Fern: That two of Finn’s greatest tools wound up becoming one of his most dangerous adversaries, and even worse that the Finn who became the Finn Sword was tortured and corrupted for no real reason, all essentially by accident.
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natalievoncatte · 3 months
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On Krypton, vows had meaning. Proclamations were not made lightly, and promises were not given casually. Kara’s peers wouldn’t throw one out as a reassurance, or to settle an argument. They were a logical people. They didn’t deceive, didn’t speak words they didn’t know to be true, and didn’t give opinions that were not informed. Society was ordered and regimented, and everyone put the greater good before themselves. So if you made a promise, no matter how great or how small, you would do it.
Kara learned, later in life, that a lot of her birth culture was, to use an English word that had no equivalent in her language, bullshit. Kryptonians would, she thought, claim that they had no use for such a vulgar term for cavalier prevarication because they did not practice it. That would had been a lie.
Her parents bullshitted her. They bullshitted her about the society she was growing up in. Her world wasn’t a real of perfect logic and order, it was a hidebound, decaying ex-empire that put tradition so irrationally high on a pedestal that they let their world be destroyed and all but a handful of their people wiped out because tradition said that her uncle was wrong about the planetary core going unstable.
Nevertheless, when Kara made a promise, she meant it. When she said she’d vowed to protect her adoptive home with her life, she meant it. Those words all but signed her life away in service to the cause. She was this way in everything, from saving the world down to brining Cat Grant a precisely prepared cup of coffee. Her promises meant something.
That was why she filled herself with dread the instant a promise, given unthinkingly in the heat of the moment, tumbled out of her mouth.
I will always be your friend, and I will always protect you.
She’d dishonored herself with the promise, one broken as it was made. She held Lena tight, speaking with conviction, and promised to be a friend even as she lied, swore to protect even as she deceived. It was a promise that couldn’t be kept no matter what she did.
Kara had become human in so many ways, and it gnawed at her. Another English word that had no exact Kryptonian equivalent was freedom. A proper Kryptonian would be horrified at ideas that boiled down to “I can do what I want”; I can choose my career, my partner, my life. I can put fulfillment ahead of the role chosen for me by those who know better. Yet Kara had embraced it full throated, making choices whenever she could.
The one thing she would never give up was the value of an oath.
She was over the Pacific, thinking. She would come out here from time to time to think and clear her head when the city soundscape became overwhelming, and just let herself drift in the air. There were no texts to agonize over, no emails from Snapper, nothing but herself and the lapping of waves and the distant rumble of storms over the open ocean.
She’d been coming out here more and more of late, not to think but to avoid thinking.
Because Lena knew, and Kara knew something was wrong. She could be dense about human behavior sometimes, but she was no fool… and she had super senses. She could read Lena’s pulse and see infrared flush of her skin and spot micro-movements of her eyes. Kara wanted desperately to believe that nothing was wrong but her instincts said otherwise.
When Kara told her, Lena had gone stock still and stared at her with what Kara thought was hatred, bringing tears. She’d tried to tell her how sorry she was, but Lena had just walked right past her and only later returned to her usual self.
Almost.
Kara had thrown herself into it, going on a campaign of what Alex had called ‘peacocking’ for some reason, all but burying Lena with super-stunts like fetching fresh pastries from French patissiers. Lena had smiled and thanked her but there was something flat and distant in it, and Kara ignored it and insisted that all was well.
Out here, with just the storms and her secrets, she knew it wasn’t.
Kara fingered the crest on her chest, worrying her thumb over the crimson fabric of the El rune. This meant something. It meant both ‘hope’ and ‘stronger together’; the two ideas were inextricably linked but her cousin only understood one of the meanings, because Kryptonian pictographic language was complex, and he was not Kryptonian in any way that mattered.
That was another great failing, a promise that Kara made but didn’t keep. By her people’s standards, there was no shame in that; one did not bear the responsibility of a promise made under duress, or a promise that others demanded knowing that it couldn’t be kept.
The only one she’d kept Kryptonian was herself, deep in a secret corner of her soul that meant it if she said she’d be at your birthday party or bring you a donut. The part that treated promises like promises.
There was only one way to cleanse herself, and remove her shame. She knew what it was, but she was afraid. Kara had battled monsters and gods, faced death more than once, lost more than any person should have to lose in a dozen lifetimes, but there was one thing she feared above all others.
She feared that first honest look on Lena’s shocked face more than she feared an eternity without stars. She could live in the void between realities; a void without Lena would kill her more surely than any green poison.
Now. She had to do it now, before she lost her nerve. She flew back to the city, flew hard, slowing only to land on Lena’s balcony, softly. As she raised her hand to knock on the glass of the door, she hesitated, nearly turned back.
Lena opened it, and Kara let out a slow breath. Lena was wearing only a loose, flowing floral robe, with clearly nothing beneath it. Terror made her listen- if Lena had a guest in that state, Kara might just fling herself into the sun and be done with it.
She was alone. Lena shifted on her feet.
“Why are you all wet?”
Kara’s hair was damp with sea spray and she’d flown through a few clouds on her way back.
“I like to fly over the ocean and think.”
“Well, come in here already. Let me get you a towel. Do you want something to change into?”
Kara swallowed hard. No. She wanted the honor of her family on her chest right now. She needed it to make her brave, like her father said it would when he sent her into the void. She did take the towel.
Lena had been enjoying her tea and sad breakfast -toast with jam- before Kara arrived. She left it on the counter and sat on her couch, leaving Kara to pace.
“I can tell you’re upset,” said Lena. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Everything,” said Kara. “I have a lot to say and I don’t know how to say it. I haven’t told you the full truth and I have to. I need to. It’s eating me alive inside.”
Lena swallowed hard, her heart racing.
“Please don’t tell me you’re Batman, too.”
“Lena, this is serious.”
Kara swept across the room and knelt in front of her, and Lena’s eyes shot open wide in surprise. Kara looked at the carpet in front of her, unable to look Lena in the eye.
“A long time ago, I promised you I’d always take care of you, and I didn’t. I was lying to you when I said it and I lied to you for years after.”
“Kara…”
“Please,” desperation choked her voice, “let me finish. I owe you the full truth. I promised, and promises are sacred to Kryptonians. My soul will be stained forever unless I fulfill the oath I made.”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“Yes it was,” said Kara. “It was to me. It was everything to me. Please.”
Lena cleared her throat. “Okay.”
“I told you I lied to you to protect you. That was another lie. That’s not why I did it. I lied because I was weak and I put my own feelings ahead of doing what was right. I was scared. I was scared that if you knew it would change how you saw me and it would change our relationship. You were the only person I could almost be myself with and I didn’t want that to change. You were a safe person I could go to without having to be Supergirl.”
Lena was studying her, a soft hint of skepticism in her expression.
Kara stood up and paced.
“I don’t know how to do this, Lena. I may act human and look human but I’m not. I grew up on another planet with another culture and so many things about this world are just totally different from how I was raised.”
Kara took a deep breath.
“On Krypton we didn’t have queerness. People didn’t value freedom of choice. You did what society told you to do. You joined the guild you were pledge to at birth and married the person you were told to marry and had the offspring you were told to have and raised them to do the same thing. The same fucking thing.”
Lena sat up at Kara’s sudden, vehement profanity.
“I didn’t know the word freedom until I arrived here. I had no concept of it. I had no idea how fragile and precious it is. Sure, I talked about it and wrote essays about it in school, but I didn’t get it. Not until I met you.”
Kara looked at Lena.
“You are my freedom. You’re the first thing I’ve ever chosen, really chosen, in my life, besides being Supergirl. It was you that made me look Cat Grant and Alex both in the eyes and say ‘no, this is what I want, this is how it’s going to be for me and it’s my choice, not yours.’ Back home I never, ever would have even thought what I’m about to say now.”
Kara swallowed, hard.
“I was afraid to tell you because I was afraid it would change our relationship. I was afraid you’d hate me because I kept the secret too long, but I was also afraid of what has to come after confessing my identity to you, Lena. The next part is even harder.”
“Kara,” Lena began.
“I have feelings for you.”
Lena went still, her eyes wide. “What did you say?”
“I want to be myself with you. My whole self, my real self. Not the person I think I have to be to please someone else. I want to tell you everything you want to know about my home and my people and my life and I want to know everything about you. I want to hear you laugh for me and see the look in your eyes when you’re happy to see me. I want to care for you when you’re sick and hold you when you’re sad and be the person that matters to you like you matter to me.”
Kara sucked in a deep breath.
“I used to think I was happy just being Kara with you. Not being Kara Danvers or Kara Zoe-El, just me… but I’m not me without both of those pieces and being without them isn’t good enough. I want you to know the real me. The girl from Krypton who went to high school in California.”
Lena stood up slowly, clearly forcing her breathing even. She adjusted her robe around herself, and looked at Kara for too long a time, silent.
“I hurt you when I promised I’d protect you and I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
“What do you want from me? To tell you it’s okay?” said Lena. “Is that what you want? Because it’s fucking not.”
Kara flinched. She opened her mouth, then closed it.
Lena had given her this courtesy and she’d give it in return.
“It wasn’t just you, Kara. I built my whole life around you and your friends and they became my friends. You gave me a normal world. I got to be a regular girl when I was with you and the others. Do you have any idea what that means to me? What you did to me when you ripped it away? Do you have any idea how you’ve torn me to shreds?”
Kara choked a little, and tried to hold back the tears, and failed.
“I killed Lex. I killed him and I hid his body, myself. I killed my brother for you. And the worst part is I’d do it again. If it was him or you I’d kill him again.”
Cold dread flooded through her.
“That was my fault. That was exactly the kind of thing that I should have protected you from, and I failed you." Kara's breath hitched as she bit back a sob. "I should go."
Lena moved quickly and grabbed her arm tight. "Don't you fucking dare leave. You can't just say those things to me and leave."
Kara's nostrils flared as she sucked in a big breath.
"Lex told me who you were as he was dying. He showed me."
Kara looked at her. "Oh."
"I started to hate you. I started to believe the things he said about you. And what happened then? You told me! You just blurted it out!"
Lena choked down a sob of her own, and something in Kara shattered. Tentatively, carefully, Kara pulled her into a gentle hug, and Lena let her.
"I don't know what to do anymore," Lena whispered into Kara's chest. "I've lost everything."
Kara held her closer, breathing the soft scent of her shower-damp hair.
"I don't know what to do either," Kara admitted. "I just knew I couldn't bear to lie to you again, even by omission. I'll go if you want."
"You're not leaving," said Lena. "I don't want you to go. Promise you won't leave me."
Kara shivered. "Lena…"
"Promise."
"I promise," Kara whispered.
592 notes · View notes
booksandabeer · 2 months
Text
Celebrating 10 Years of CA:TWS — A Stucky Rec List
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Rec list for the CA:TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary (thank you so much for organizing this event! 💙) | Prompt: Memories
10 years, huh? 10 years of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. 10 years of what many—myself included—still consider to be the best MCU movie ever made.
But also 10 years of post-TWS fanfiction. 10 years of Bucky Barnes Recovering and Steve Rogers' Sadness Errands; of Up All Night to Get Bucky and Revenge Road Trips; of Winter Soldier Trauma Umbrellas and Everybody Needing A Goddamn Hug; of Good Bros and Soft Epilogues. 10 years and tens of thousands of Steve/Bucky fics later, here we are.
So, to mark the occasion, let's take a trip down memory lane and celebrate the movie and the stories it inspired: One fic from each year since it all began:
There's really only one rule here: All fics are set before, during, or after the events of CA:TWS and/or reimagine its plot in interesting ways. Naturally, many of the fics on this list are post-TWS canon divergent, but I tried to go for a nice variety of length, genre, and popularity to keep it interesting. Speaking of popularity, this is very much not intended as a round-up of ‘most popular fics of each year’ because—and I say this with all the love and respect in my heart for those stories and their authors—nobody needs a rec list for that, and I believe in spreading the love. Here we go:
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Poltergeists by enemyofrome | 17K, T
Author's summary: When the helicarriers blow up and the Winter Soldier goes on the run, he takes Steve with him. He's got a name written in Morse code on the inside of his arm, a ton of questions he doesn't know how to ask, and now, a new handler with absolutely zero sense of self-preservation to contend with. Life is hard. In which Bucky tries to figure out whether he's a human being, Steve does everything he can to keep from losing him again, and there are lots of explosions.
Starting off with one of the best versions of the 'Bucky didn't leave Steve, he took him with him after the Potomac' fics that were (and still are!) so popular post-TWS. This one stands out because of its fantastic beginning, its interesting take on how Bucky was broken and remade into the Winter Soldier, and because it allows both characters to be messy. It's a popular fanon trope that it's Steve who brings out a ruthless, almost vicious streak in Bucky, but here it's emphasized that this is very much a mutual thing. Just like Bucky, who's often afforded the "excuse" of still figuring out how to be a person again, Steve gets to be difficult here—without ever turning him into a stubborn asshole. They're both traumatized, and they're both allowed to show it and to lash out, including at each other. Also, this fic will give you capital-F Feelings about morse codes and apples. Believe me.
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sleepwalk back to the battle site by ftmsteverogers | 22K, T
Author's summary: “I’m going to track down every HYDRA agent that’s left,” Bucky says, buckling his gun deftly to his belt. “And then I’m going to kill them.” “Oh,” Steve says. “Come with me?” Bucky asks, dangerous hands tucked into his pockets.
A classic post-TWS fic that picks up right after the movie ends. Equal parts Revenge Roadtrip, Bucky Barnes recovering, and Steve Rogers being in urgent need of a good hug. This starts out intensely melancholic—Steve's despair and helplessness are palpable and there's a scene involving a drinking glass that still brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. Halfway through, the story changes pace and becomes much more action-heavy, but it still manages to allow space for the quiet, intimate moments between Steve and Bucky. They have both become sharp and deadly men, but they're also allowed to be soft with each other. Their coming together feels sweet and inevitable. I also really enjoyed the Steve characterization here. His absolute conviction that Bucky is still Bucky at his very core and always will be, but also his emotional and intellectual flexibility to adapt to this still-new-to-him, changed version of Bucky rang very true to me.   
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Surveillance by Sproings, 7K in 2 parts, G
Author's summary: If there are ears everywhere, that means it's somebody's job to listen. I hate my job.
Do you ever think about how SHIELD bugged Steves DC apartment and how horrible that was, but also...you're kind of curious what they might have overheard? Do you ever wonder about the people who listened in on his sad, lonely life? Well, here you go. An outsider POV fic told "through the ears" of an unnamed SHIELD agent assigned to spy on the private life of a man who doesn't really have much of one. The story begins just before IM3 and takes us all the way through the events of CA:TWS and beyond. It's clever, original and told with great empathy for both the subject under surveillance and the person carrying out that surveillance—who increasingly questions its purpose. Here's a small snippet to give you an idea of the fic's style:
He got a phone call, once. He put it on speaker, too, which was very exciting for me at the time. It was from an archivist at the Smithsonian. They seemed really surprised that he answered his own phone calls. The two of them talked for a long time about an exhibit the museum was planning. A very long time. As if one of them was starstruck, and the other was desperate for any kind of human interaction.
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What Gets You Through by velleities | 12K, M
Author's summary: For Steve, getting through each day is a process – one he’s currently failing at spectacularly. Feeling out of place in this brave new world, he hopes to find a home in Bucky, and looks for him with everything he’s got. But Bucky doesn’t want to be found, and when he does touch base with Steve, he never sticks around for long. Bucky has embraced the modern age, leaving Steve lagging behind – or so Steve believes, until Bucky shows him otherwise.
This post-TWS fic revolves around five encounters in liminal spaces, and each time Bucky has pieced himself back together again just a little more. Despite their increasingly longer and more honest conversations, and Bucky's incremental progress, he always disappears again, leaving Steve to grapple with his heartbreak. There are quietly gorgeous moments in this fic (the bus and the church in particular were my personal favorites) as well as wonderfully crafted characterizations. Bucky is initially portrayed as somewhat feral in some ways yet surprisingly well-adjusted in others, and I love that Steve can't help but be a little annoyed at that. However, it quickly becomes clear that, in good old Bucky Barnes fashion, much of it is really just a front put up for Steve's benefit...
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A Real Boy by itsnotbleak | 5K, T
Author's summary: It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat. It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.
A wonderful, short-but-doesn't-feel-like-it fic (in the very best way) set immediately after CA:TWS, in which Bucky secretly and then soon not so secretly visits Steve in his apartment. Follow along as Bucky Barnes argues with his brain about sandwich toppings, the importance of a good night's sleep, and the necessity of personal hygiene. Also: how to best go about becoming a real boy (again). And who the hell is that Bucky guy anway? This is as soft and sweet a Bucky recovery fic as you're ever going to find. It's funny but not silly; sad in a way that all of these stories inherently are—because, well, these are some tragic boys—but not super angsty or depressing. A beautiful story with a lovely, hopeful ending.
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Savage God by PottersPink | 36K, M
Author's summary (abbr.): Past, present, future, Steve knows Bucky Barnes. It’s why he recognized him when he found him in that alley in April of 1942, even though Bucky was older, stronger, wearier; he called himself The Asset, and had a metal fucking arm. He flinched when Steve tried to touch him, and when Steve told him he loved him, his first response was to ask why. Seventy years later, Steve wakes up in the twenty-first century, and he doesn’t know whether to be heartbroken or hopeful when some of the things Bucky revealed to him in 1942 start falling into place.
An absolutely riveting AU that will have you on the edge of your seat the whole time. I'm itching to talk about it more but I cannot since it would mean spoiling the hell out of it. What I can say is that it's a very intriguing and clever exploration of what would happen if Steve knew about the future but without really knowing any of the details. How would it change the events of CA:TFA and CA:TWS, and how would it change Steve himself? I so very much appreciate this characterization of Steve as smart, competent, and unwavering with a hefty dose of no fucks left to give. This fic features some really nifty time travel and plotting, great action sequences and a very satisfying ending where certain people get their much-deserved comeuppance. Plus: Bonus Shrinkyclinks (kind of)!
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Charlie Lock by seapigeon | 105K, M (hard M)
Author's summary (abbr.): The Winter Soldier knows that sometimes, in order to make the kill, you must destroy what the Target lives for. Steve Rogers knows that he can't fight his captors. If he fights, they'll kill Bucky. But the price of his life is steep. Tony Stark has nothing left to live for, but he's needed. So all these miserable motherfuckers better stay alive, too. Clint Barton never expected to be a leader. But a leader he is, and no one else is going to die on his watch. --- A story in which the first wave of Project Insight succeeds, and the Avengers must pick up the pieces and find a way to stop Hydra from completing its work with Zola's algorithm.
This is not only the longest fic on this list, but also the angstiest one—by a mile, so please heed the tags. It's dark, disturbing, and brutal. However, it is neither relentless misery porn nor is it shocking for shock's sake, where everything is magically forgotten and/or healed the moment Steve and Bucky start kissing. Instead, the author puts these characters into an absolutely horrifying situation and then slowly, gently guides them out of it and into the light.
It's a Stucky fic but it's also a multi-POV ensemble piece featuring all the Avengers and other familiar faces. If you are someone who'll always be a little bitter about the unfulfilled promise of an Avengers found family, then this is for you. In this AU, they do not only fight together, but grow together in every way. They truly become a team, not just co-workers barely tolerating each other. The story takes its time exploring the characters and the group dynamics. Steve and Bucky are definitely at the center of the narrative but there is space here for every member of the team to grieve and adjust to the new reality and to find at least some measure of healing. It's a story about the meaning and the consequences of revenge, about hope and resilience, and about love in all its many forms. It also has one of the most satisfying title drops that will have you pump your fist in triumph when it happens. It's a tough read, but ultimately a very rewarding one.
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SPELEVINK by Ginny_Potter | 10K, G
Author's summary: Bucky’s back. He’s leaving me messages through IKEA plushies, Steve texts Sam. jesus christ, rogers, Sam texts back. Or, Bucky lives in an IKEA Tiny Apartment, Steve is a dancing monkey once again, and somehow they find their way back to each other.
This is an absolute DELIGHT of a fic that will have you alternately laughing out loud and crying quietly into your SVARTFIBBLA blanket (super-soft, recycled polyester, 47x63"). It's ‘crack treated seriously’ at its very best and a clear homage to the fandom classic Infinite Coffee… (that’s not a dig or a spoiler, the author says so in the author’s note).
Now if you know me, you’ll know that angst o’clock is my happy hour and I’m usually not very into these heavy-on the-humor quasi-absurdist fics (because I’m super special and not like all the other girls, obviously). But. I LOVED this story so, so much. It’s such a fun read—even when it makes you cry—and it really became one of those ‘huh, I guess I’m into this after all’ moments of joyful (self)discovery via fanfic for me. I never thought a pair of oven mitts could move me like that, and I'll never be able to walk into an IKEA again without muttering "F******!" under my breath (iykyk). Absolutely fantastic.
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a handful of dust by RecoveringTheSatellites | 20K, M
Author's summary: Steve looks for Bucky for a long time. But the thing is that Bucky doesn't get found, Bucky finds. Bucky always finds Steve. This takes a hard left after the Potomac and stumbles through the dark a lot after. Take a bit of running, the occasional synaptic misfire, the resurfacing of old memories, a dash or two of PTSD, and (eventually) a nice dose of action, stir, and serve over some unresolved issues.
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Honestly, the second paragraph up there perfectly sums up the story. It's a good ol' fashioned Bucky recovery fic with some angst, some action, and a whole lot of healing and devotion. Steve and Bucky get to be very sappy about each other, but also extremely Badass Battle Boyfriends™ when somebody threatens their hard-won happiness. Both are allowed to be messy, unstable, and very co-dependent.
This was the first time this author played in the Stucky sandbox and I mean it 100% as a compliment when I say that you can tell. This is someone with "fresh legs" diving headfirst and very deep into the Stucky trope pool and they're doing it with great relish and enthusiam. The result is a story that rejects some of the tried and true conventions of the post-TWS fanfic canon and lovingly embraces others, but that is definitely aware of and in dialogue with the body of work that came before it. Also, it's just a really fun read that gives these two the very soft ending they deserve.
Everybody is Supposed to be Dead by pollutedstar | 22K, M
Author's summary: In 1944, Bucky Barnes falls off a train into the Alps, missing and presumed dead. Months later, Steve Rogers nosedives a plane into the arctic. In 2010, the Winter Soldier project is uncovered by S.H.I.E.L.D., and Bucky Barnes is found alive. Three years later, Steve Rogers’ frozen body is found in the ocean.
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A really interesting AU and a fascinating exploration of what could’ve been; the impact it would’ve had on the events and characters if Bucky had been the one to be “found” first. How would it affect Steve to come back into a world where he isn’t quite so lonely and adrift, and where he does have the relief and reassurance of having Bucky by his side and at his back? How would that have changed the way he acted and reacted to this strange new world and the people and organizations trying to recruit him to their cause even though the ice hasn't even completely melted off his body yet?
There are a lot of astute and precise observations about characters like Tony, Natasha, and Clint in this story, and on top of that, it offers up some very compelling insights into Steve's conflicted and difficult relationship with his role as Captain America.
it's never over (hey orpheus) by romcommie | 12K WIP, 2/?, M
Author's summary: He remembers a song first and then everything else follows, burying him below. Or, Bucky Barnes pieces a life back together with a few choice verses, some duct tape and seventy years worth of spite. Steve Rogers tries very hard to relearn there's a life to be lived in the first place.
Ok, listen up, people! This is a WIP and there are only 2 chapters posted so far, but I haven't felt this absolutely bonkers excited about a post-CA:TWS fic in a long while. We're talking frothing at the mouth here. I have such a massive crush on this fic, it's a bit embarrassing, really. It's one of those fics where you know after just a few paragraphs that you're in very good, very competent hands. The wealth of historical and cultural detail; the way the story shifts/flips/flickers back and forth between time, perspective and narrative levels; the Bucky voice—it's all so well done! I'm so insanely excited to see where the author takes this!
ENJOY!
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intoanotherworld23 · 4 months
Text
Good And Bad
Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller
Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, this one shot is all smut and sex so ye have been warned, unprotected sex, bondage, slight bdsm, oral female receiving, minor fingering, dirty dirty sex
Summary: You just want to be a good girl for Joel, but you can’t help but wanting to be bad at the same time
Authors note: Man I only imagine what those hands of his could do! Reblog reblog reblog! I can’t stress how much reblogging helps out writers! If you guys enjoyed please let me know! Plus my tag list is always open so don’t hesitate to ask me! Thanks everyone so much! XOXO
Hall Of Hunks
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"God that feels so good."
The heat between your legs was becoming almost unbearable at this moment. It was like an ache you couldn't get rid of, and it was starting to get to you.
Fingers gripping onto the hand rails behind your head as the silk fabric started to cut into your skin. The more you pulled the tighter it seemed to wrap around your wrist.
Back arching off the bed as your toes became entangled in the cold sheets. It was like you were being tortured, and you loved every minute of it.
Your legs were numb to feeling as they were constantly shaking, and thick hands were gripping your soft flesh.
A wet tongue lapping relentlessly at your raw core. Running circles around your dripping opening like you were his last meal. The sounds of your slickness like music to his ears. He could keep you like this all day, and you knew he would too.
"Mhhhm. More Joel." Whispering just enough for him to hear.
"You want more?" Tongue sucking onto your clit making your cry out.
Diving his tongue right in as his fingers spread your lips apart getting easier access. Nuzzling his face so close his nose was brushing against your clit. His tongue massaging your inner walls as his hands rubbed soothing circles on your outer knees.
Rotating your hips against his face wanting more, but unable to open your mouth and say the words. His tongue literally had you speechless right now.
"Something wrong sweetheart?" His tone condescending as he smirked up at you. "Did you need something?"
Pushing two fingers inside of you admiring how tight you were. Biting your bottom lip so harshly you thought you might draw blood. His fingers felt so delicious inside of you.
Your limbs felt so heavy but relaxed at the same time. Whining down at Joel to go faster, and he responded with a light chuckle.
"Can't wait to fuck that little cunt of yours." He says biting his bottom lip.
His thick fingers continued to slowly thrust and curl inside of you. Waiting for your response as you gasped when he sharply pushed his digits all the way up into your cervix. He was in complete control over you, and had you right where he wanted you.
Joel quickly realized that you weren't responding or saying anything. He found it quite amusing that you wouldn't say anything back almost like you were trying to hold back, and didn't want to be too loud.
"Cat got your tongue?" He teased when you weren't responding.
Watching intensely as your mouth hung open, and only little squeaks came out. Kissing up your stomach as he nuzzled your hot skin loving how vulnerable you were for him. Really pulling against your restraints hoping he would untie you.
"Such a poor little thing aren't you." Joel coos into your ear. "So desperate to cum."
"Joel." Mewling desperate to grip onto his locks or just something.
Instead of responding he just pulls apart your thighs even more. The slight burn radiating all the way down to your calves. Meanwhile he just stared between your legs licking his lips noticing just how wet and raw you looked.
"Fuck just look at you." Shaking his head in almost disbelief you were all his. "Look so fucking beautiful."
Watching as he lowers one of his hands to grip onto his very erect cock. Stroking himself groaning in pain from how sensitive he was. All he wanted right now was to bury himself deep inside of you.
Even though it was a very simple motion it was still the hottest thing you had ever seen. Grinding your hips into the air wanting him to touch you or something. Of course Joel saw what you were doing and grinned down at you.
"What do you want baby?" Reaching out to grip softly onto your neck with the same hand that gripped his cock just seconds ago.
"Joel please." Whining up at him just hoping he would give it to you.
"No no." He shakes his head at you. "My sweet girl I want to hear you say it."
His hand tightening around your neck just slightly. Feeling the pressure of his fingers against your throat. Smoothly running his hand down past your collarbone, and in between your breasts. Feeling just how heavily your were breathing.
Joel was known for pushing you past your comfort zone. He wanted you to always give in to what he wanted when it came to sex. He wanted you and nobody else.
Just to tease you even more he places the tip of his cock at your entrance. Gathering your juices and rubbing it up and down. Twisting your hips to get more, but he just grabbed your hips to keep you still.
"Tell me like the good little girl you are." His tip barely just entering you.
Hoping that Joel would just give in push in all the way, but he wasn't having your silence. He kept it there while wiggling his hips just to tease you even more.
"Wanna hear that pretty mouth speak." His tone very low as his eyes became darker.
"Please fuck me Joel." Finally able to say the words. "Just fuck me so hard I want your cock so badly."
Smiling down at you as he leaned forward to attach his lips to yours. His mouth moving along yours in such a sensual manner you felt so many sparks of fireworks. Feeling the outline of his cock pressed against your pussy.
Pushing his tongue inside your mouth at the same time he pushed his length inside of you. Swallowing your moans as his hips were pressed into your pelvis. Staying there for just a few seconds so you could adjust. Savoring the moment your walls enclosed around him like little suckers.
"Such a tight delicious pussy for me." He groaned as he pulled out and pushing back in. "Gonna have to fuck you more often sweetheart."
He begins to pound into your cunt with no mercy. The sounds of his hips slapping against yours. Moving the bed and slamming the headboard into the wall. His little grunts echoing in your ear and he moved relentlessly inside of you.
Feeling the fabric rubbing against your skin even harder creating a painful burning sensation. Typically the pain would have brought tears to your eyes, but right now it was only heightening the pleasure even more intensely.
"Look at me baby girl." Commanding you noticing your shut eyes. "Look into my eyes as you cum around my cock."
Noticing how his jaw clenched as he grit his teeth staring deep into your eyes. Feeling your cheeks begin to become hot with such an intimate interaction. It was just you and him in this moment, and he wanted you to become lost in each other.
"That's my good girl." He praised you. "Always such a good sweet girl for me."
Wrapping your legs tightly around his waist as you began to feel that intense feeling building inside your stomach. Breasts bouncing back and forth with the motion of his rocking. His eyes looking down at them with lust. Unable to bear it anymore as he attached your left breast into his mouth.
"Oh my god." Crying out throwing your head back.
Joel could tell you were right there with each squeeze around his cock. He wanted to cum at the same time that you did. Holding himself back from spilling his seed inside of you too soon. Sweating so heavily he felt like he would almost pass out.
Lifting his head to look down at where you two are connected. Noticing as each time his cock pulls out a white creamy like substance strings along his length. The image drives him absolutely feral. Moving in and out of you so harshly your afraid he might actually break your body.
Your pathetic whimpers and moans are what keep him motivated. His eyes staying concentrated on your completely blissed out face. Your pupils absolutely dilated from being high off of each other.
"Cum for me sweetheart." He begs you unable to hold back any longer.  "I'm right there."
One of his hands reached down between you two to rub circles against your bundle of nerves. That was enough to send you spiraling. Your toes curling as your whole body shook with such an intense orgasm. Legs trembling against Joel's hips as he held onto you.
Spilling his own seed inside of you his cock twitching a couple of times as he drained the last of his fluid. Laying against you feeling absolutely tired but relaxed.
"Was that okay?" He asked timidly as he reached up to untie your sore wrists. Your limbs falling straight down. "I didn't hurt you did I?"
"No." Responding out of breath eyes fluttering. "No Joel it was perfect."
"Good." He smiled up at you snuggling against your sweaty body his head on your chest. "Cause I'm not done with you yet."
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nrdmssgs · 9 months
Note
CONGRATS ON 500, you 100% deserve it and more !!! 🥹🌷💐 i just love your art and work so, so much!!
if it's alright, can i request 37 with könig? my husband, i need him !!!! 😮‍💨
Masterlist List of prompts What? An author, who practically inspired me to come here and start writing? An author, who gifted me the biggest brainrot for many sides of König? Sends me a request? Orla, I am such a huge fan!!!!!! I love your style, love your bold, picturesque oneshots, love your eagerness to discover so many themes. I owe you so much, you don't have an idea. I made a text and a picture in case, you don't like the text. Sorry, I'm fangirling and I'm nervous)
Does it make you nervous, when I stare?
Pairing: KonigxReader Warning: this is NSFW. And König here is not the shyest guy on Earth, because this is colonel edition.
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Oh, the things, you would let this man do to you. Unspeakable, ungodly things. Things so unhinged, you wouldn't mention them even after a few rounds of shots with your besties.
One sight of his fingers tapping the tabletop during the debriefing, and you can't think about anything other than the salty taste on your lips, left by his thumb. It would take him just one word, or maybe even one glance to make you cover his index and middle finger in saliva, as he would slide them against your tongue. You'd be so good - standing on your knees for him, sucking his fingers so eagerly, fighting your own gag reflex.
One glance thrown at his forearms, tightly hugged by black cloth, and you imagine his massive hands picking you up like you weigh nothing at all. You'd freeze, learn to hold your breath for as long as he wants, until you'd feel only the brush of his mouth against yours and the grumble of his impatience when he pushes in. The intoxicating thickness of his tongue against yours would be a taste that would rocket to your core and melt you from the inside, as he'd hover over you, pushing apart your legs with the brush of his massive thighs between yours. He'd take and take and take. And how obediently will you keep giving him anything, he demands.
Looking at his hips is a serious danger. Slick outlines of his muscles, his fingers brushing up and down his lap, black holster straps spanning his thigh make you go absolutely feral. You'd be standing still, feeling his low growl with your entire body. You'd hold your hands high against the wall and arch your back, so he can have access to every single part of your body. You'd accept him reminding you, with each his hungry thrust, where your place is: wrapped in his arms while he rubs you senseless, his teeth on your neck leaving you on the edge of pain.
All that fantasies you could hide from König, if it wasn't for his eyes: deep cold silver light, sparkling with interest, every time, he caught you staring. You couldn't make yourself look away: his stare was a predatory gaze, luring you closer, easing you into a thought of coming closer, stripping you of any bit of self-preservation instinct. Yes, when he caught your eyes - König took his time, ravishing in a sight of your desperate blush, letting go of you and turning his gaze away only when you were literally choking with shame, trying to drive away the visions that he awakened in your mind. This man was to become the end of you, and every next day it was only harder to fight that feeling off.
So when you hear, he is expanding his team, it feels only natural to surrender and use this ghostly opportunity to get closer to him. You know, your chance to join the team, his inner circle, is almost zero. By no means, you can be considered a poor professional, but the Colonel is a legend here. He doesn't want just 'the best' he wants those outstanding even from the best. And your personnel files scream 'just good' at best. But you have a motivation, the one so strong and specific, that maybe only you here have. Your obsession with König is pushing you to the darkest void, you were too scared to come to earlier - the threshold of his office.
"Come in." His voice at it finest: not too loud, not too harsh, all honey and slumber. When he wants, he can be mesmerizing as a siren.
You clench your hand into a fist behind your back, thus trying to calm the trembling that is rolling up to your knees.
"Just don't look him in the eyes, and it would be ok. Hands, yes, you can bear looking at his hands and not lose it. Afterward you can have whatever you want - your toys, your fingers, your cushions... Just look at his hands, breathe deep, and it all will be alright." Your inner monologue is interrupted only when he is pulling a folder from your hands, obviously tired of waiting for you to finally give it to him.
"What do we have he- oh..." Your breath hitches, you practically hear an uncanny smile spreading across his face.
"Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel?*" König sounds amused. And although you don't entirely understand, what he said - you get the message and nod, not daring to look him in the eyes.
"Very good. I could use such a treasure..." He flips the pages and clicks his tongue when some of your personal indicators impress him. And before you manage to exhale, he adds: "But I'll need to test you. See, if you are... ready."
"Anything, Colonel!" You blurt it out and immediately shut your mouth, realizing that it might sound ambivalent. But that's enough to make König raise from his seat and lead you from offices to firing range.
You blame it upon a rush of blood to your head, but you pass his test with flying colors. Physical tests, advanced weaponry, strategy, even sparing with König leaves you alive and just a little trembling.
The thing, that breaks you, is not even a test or a check. It happens late in the evening, when you two end up in the locker room. You just need to remove one layer of the tactical gear you were using, you'll still have your shirt and jeans on. But you stop, paralyzed, seeing out of the corner of your eye how König leans against the wall, arms folded on his chest. His gaze, you feel his gaze: lingering and hungry.
"What's wrong, treasure? Are you hurt?" You are afraid to answer and reveal your trembling voice, so you just shake your head.
"You don't know, how to loosen those straps? Want me to help you?" Again: you only shake your head, hiding your gaze.
"Is it my eyes, that make you that nervous, Schatzi*?" His accent thickens, voice drops low, as he steps closer.
You instinctively lean back, but hit the wall behind you. He takes one more step towards you and places his hand between the wall and the back of your head, so that you don't hurt yourself occasionally. But very soon, he guides you to finally look up at him. There it is: silver light, that you can never look away from, once you saw it.
"Talk to me. There can be no secrets inside my team." His voice is soft once again, but you know, it is a trap. And you fall for it.
"I just get distracted. Don't worry, Colonel, I'll learn to ignore it or to live quietly with it. Sorry..." Your voice, your entire body, is trembling.
"There's nothing to apologize for." Something sparkles deep inside his eyes. He moves his veil up, so you can see his lips, and leans right to your ear. "In fact, how about you come at the same time to my office tomorrow, treasure? After all, you've proven, you can be so good for me... It's my turn to convince you, I too can be good for you, Schatzi."
Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel? - Little one wants in my game?
Schatzi - little treasure
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Waffles and Cigarettes- Javier Peña x f!reader
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Main Masterlist | Javier Peña Masterlist
Rating: E for EXPLICIT MDNI 18+
Summary: After you are attacked during a night out, your ex boyfriend comes to your rescue
Word Count: 4871
Warnings: Attempted sexual assault (not Javi), violence, descriptions of blood and injuries, fingering, spit as lube, unprotected PIV, kinda rough sex, creampie, angst. absolutely feral, protective ex boyfriend Javi
Author's Note: this is the first thing i've written in like a month so please forgive me if its...blah. i'm just trying to shake the cobwebs off. Also this was supposed to be PWOP just to get back in the groove of things but it true Angela fashion, I was unable to shut the fuck up. thank you to my beloved @catchallfangirl for being my ever faithful beta.
Your heart beats in time to the steady thump thump thump of the music. The vibrations from the bass travel up your legs and straight to your core. Through the haze of tequila you can almost fool yourself that the man grinding on you is him. That those are his arms wrapping around you from behind. His fingers trailing up your thigh, dipping under the hem of your barely there skirt. 
“Damn, baby” He groans in your ear, pressing his erection against your ass. There's no mistaking that he isn't, couldn't ever be, him. He doesn’t sound like him, doesn’t smell like him and he sure as hell doesn’t feel like him. “I bet you feel so good.”
You smack the man’s hand away and try to wriggle from his grasp. That only causes him to hold you tighter against him. With one hand splayed across your middle and the other groping your arm tightly, he begins swaying to the music but  the movement is off beat, disjointed. That’s because he’s slowly walking you backwards. The hallway that leads to the club’s bathrooms is only illuminated by the glowing LED lights of the EXIT sign above the emergency door. Your vision blurs as tears prick your eyes and the dancing strobes on the ceiling become distant. 
His foot catches something and he stumbles, briefly loosening his hold on you. Within seconds he rights himself and attempts to regain control of you but it’s just long enough for you to slip away. The terrifying realization of what almost happened to you sobers you up a little. Enough to reach into your bag and grab your phone. 
You place your thumb on the fingerprint sensor on the screen and his face greets your bleary eyes. It’s been six months but you haven’t been able to bring yourself to change the picture that graces your wallpaper. You have to scroll through your contacts to find his name because it no longer resides in your recent call log. Just before you hit the green phone icon, your phone is knocked from your hand and lands with a crack on the hardwood floor. 
You whirl around to face the man just as he reaches out to grab hold of you once more. You summon every ounce of strength in your body and your arm flies towards his face. The heel of your hand connects with his nose and you push up as hard as you can. Just the way he taught you. The music is loud so you don’t hear the satisfying crunch of cartilage when you break his nose but your nerves begin to calm when he crumples to the floor. Blood drips through his fingers and to the floor. You’ve gathered the attention of the people closest to you. You catch the eye of a group of women seated at a nearby table. They all give you knowing looks and a few slight nods of the head. 
You seize the moment when a couple of men kneel down to help your assailant. You scoop your phone from the floor and spin on your heel and make for the door. You’ve only taken a few steps when you are once again seized from behind. This time it’s one of the club’s security officers. The man twists your arm behind your back and leads you towards the front of the club. He says something into the walkie attached to the shoulder of his uniform but you can’t hear it over the noise. 
The tinted glass of the club’s door blocks all light from the outside and it almost blinds you when the door opens and you are pushed out onto the street. The humid air of the warm Texas night hits your face and when the door swings closed the pounding bass is muffled and your mind finally starts to clear. You lift your unrestrained arm to see the smashed screen of your phone. Fuck.
The phone slips from your grasp once more when the security officer pulls your other arm behind you. The cool metal off the handcuffs stings your skin as they click shut around them. He guides you to a bench at the front of the building, wedged between two shrubs, and plops you down on it. 
“Stay here,” he gruffs out at you and once more speaks into his walkie. 
“What is happening?” You shout. “That fucker attacked me!” He dismisses you with a wave of his hand as the door to the club opens again. A group of three men walk out and stare daggers at you, one of them holding a wad of red soaked paper towels against his face, 
“Crazy bitch,” one of his buddies grumbles in your direction. You attempt to stand up to defend yourself but the security officer places his hand on your shoulder and shoves you back down. The men walk into the parking lot and around the corner, just as two sheriff’s deputies walk up. One breaks off to speak with them while the other approaches you. The security officer meets him halfway and a hushed conversation ensues. They look over at you a few times and the security officer gestures with his hands as he speaks. 
The two men shake hands and the security guard returns to his post inside the club. The deputy stands before you, looking down at you in a disappointed dad sort of way. “Care to explain what happened?” he asks. 
As you begin to tell him how that man, that pig , put his hands on you, he reaches for the keyring on his belt and unlocks the handcuffs. You rub your sore wrists and continue giving your statement. He scribbles in a notepad that he pulled from the front pocket of his shirt. He asks a few more questions and asks you to “hold tight” while he confers with his partner. He returns after a few moments and the man who attacked you walks to the parking lot with his friends. 
“Lucky for you he doesn’t want to press charges,” he says in a tone that makes you believe that was a strong suggestion from himself. You open your mouth to protest but he holds his hand up. “I know,” he says dejectedly. “But witnesses only saw you assault him . Unfortunately, this is going to boil down to a he-said-she-said scenario.” 
You can help the burning tears that spill down your cheeks. You know he’s right. All they have is your tequila fueled account. That coupled with your short skirt, the best you could hope for is a “she was asking for it.” 
“You’re free to go but you need to find someone to come pick you up. You are in no condition to drive.” You point to where your broken phone lays on the sidewalk and the officer picks it up and hands it to you. Your voice is still caught in your throat where it chokes back your sobs. You shake your head and stare at your knees. “If you can’t find someone to take you home, I'll have to toss you in the drunk tank.” 
“Martinez!” his partner calls to him and he retreats to speak with him once more. When he returns he tells you that they have found you a safe ride home. The alcohol and adrenaline have clouded your head so you aren't even really listening anymore. You sigh and lean back against the bench and let your head fall back. The sky is clear tonight and even with all of the light pollution the stars are shining bright. 
You aren’t sure how long you sit like that, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, but it can’t have been more than ten minutes. You hear the click of boots on the concrete and then the all too familiar smell of cigarettes and Wild Country cologne waft on the hot air. You’d know that smell anywhere. You can just see the brown glass bottle, shaped like a cowboy boot that sat on the dresser of your shared room for years. He’s here.
“Staying out of trouble, I see,” you jolt upright at the soft sound of his deep voice. 
“What are you doing here?”
“I went to high school with Diaz,” Javi says, nodding his head toward the uniformed officers behind him. “You met him at my cousin’s wedding.” 
“Why did he call you?” Given the time of night you know he was sleeping, or getting ready for bed when he got the call. He shoved his feet hastily into his boots as his jeans rumpled around the tops. His white, short-sleeve pearl snap is wrinkled and he missed a spot when he tucked it in. His hair was obviously raked through with his fingers on his way out the door. After everything that happened, he still showed up for you. He probably didn’t even hesitate. 
Javi sits on the bench and wraps his arm around your shoulder. You lean into him instinctively and all the tension and adrenaline from the night flees your body. He holds you steady, just as he always has, while you let all of the emotion from the night out onto his shoulder, soaking his shirt with your tears. He holds you closely, gently whispering words of comfort into your hair, until your steady sobs slow to stuttered whimpers. He places a soft kiss to the crown of your head and rubs his hands up and down your arms. 
He helps you stand and places his hand on the small of your back and it feels like it always had, like it had never left. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.” He walks you to his truck, waving goodnight to the police officers. He opens the door and helps you up into the cab of his new pickup. The cool leather sticks to your thighs and the familiar smell of stale Marlboro reds wraps around you like a warm hug. 
Javi pulls onto the main road but instead of turning left, towards your house, he takes a right. “I thought you were taking me home?”
“I am, but not before I get some food in you.” His eyes flick towards you and his mouth turns up a little at one corner. “I think we both know you’ll be a monster in the morning without it.” 
“Yeah, well good thing that isn’t your problem anymore, right?” Javi snorts and shakes his head but he keeps quiet and his eyes remain on the road. George Strait promising to cross his heart and give all he’s got to give fills the silence in the cab. It doesn’t take long to reach the Waffle House the two of you always seemed to end up at after a night out. Javi scoffs and rolls his eyes when you yank the door open and hop out. You’ve offended his gentlemanly sensibilities by not allowing him to open the door for you, to offer his hand to help you out while he runs the other hand up your torso or down to cup your ass like he used to. Well, he’s the one who gave up that right when he broke up with you. 
Javi orders, pecan waffle with hashbrowns and bacon for you, black coffee for himself. The waitress puts in your order and brings over the coffee pot. A crumpled pack of Marlboros and a tarnished Zippo lighter sit on the table between you. Waffle House is pretty much the only restaurant that still allows smoking indoors in Texas, which is the main reason you always ended up here. You make small talk while you eat and he smokes. You ask about his dad and he asks about your job. Safe topics, ones that won’t bring up the barely scabbed over wounds of your breakup. 
You reach for your bag when the check comes but Javi waves you off. “Thanks for breakfast.”
“No problem.” 
You don’t argue when he walks you to your side of the truck. Not your side, you remind yourself. You don’t protest when he opens the door or offers you his arm to steady yourself with. He slams it shut and walks over to his side. Once again, when he pulls out of the parking lot, he drives in the opposite direction of your apartment. “Where are you taking me now, Javier?” you ask with a heavy sigh.
“Just one more stop, bab-” he cuts the pet name off before he can get it all the way out. He covers, poorly, by clearing his throat. You wonder what he’s up to but don’t ask again. You’re tired and irritated and the waffles in your stomach have you itching for the comfort and safety of your bed. You want to crawl in and stay for a few days, forget any of this ever happened 
The roads are empty at this time of night so it doesn’t take long for him to pull up to the curb in a residential neighborhood. He cuts the headlights but not the engine and opens his door. “Stay here,” he orders before he gets out and slams the door. He walks up the driveway and when he gets to the door, he pounds on it with a balled up hand so loudly that you can hear it from inside the cab. The porch light flicks on and a man opens the door. He’s shirtless and was obviously sleeping but there is no mistaking who the two black eyes and bruised nose belong to. 
Javi steps back and the man steps out onto the porch, puffing out his chest. That’s not gonna work out well for him, you think. Javier is not one to be intimidated. Not after the shit he’s seen. The shit he’s done. You can’t hear what they are saying but you can tell that their voices are raised. Javi points at the truck and the man’s gaze follows. You shrink down in your seat before you realize that he probably can’t see you. The man pushes his pointed finger into Javi’s chest and you flinch because you know what’s coming next. This is exactly what Javi was waiting for. 
You open the door just as Javi’s fist connects with the man’s jaw. “Javi!” you shout, but he doesn’t appear to hear you. He brings his fist back and you call out his name once more. “Javier!” Javi’s eyes snap towards you and there’s a darkness there that he doesn’t let out very often. You might not be his anymore, but he’ll always be yours. He’ll always be there to protect you. He’ll always save you. That’s why your first instinct was to call him when that asshole put his hands on you. 
“Get back in the truck!” he shouts. The man recovers quickly for someone with a broken nose and attempts a swing but Javi catches his fist and throws another right hook. The man falls to the floor for the second time in one night but that doesn’t stop Javi. He sits on the man’s abdomen, pinning his arms to his sides. He lands blow after blow against the man’s mangled face.
“Keep. Your. Hands. To. Your. Fucking. Self!” Each word is punctuated with a wet, crunching smack. Finally, your brain catches up and you are pulling Javi off. He relents and allows you to help him to his feet. His hair has fallen into his face and he pushes it back with his fingers. 
“Let’s go. Javi, please. Take me home.” Something about the pleading in your voice seems to make reason come back to him. He straightens up and adjusts his jeans. He looks down at the pitiful sight of your attacker curled in on himself on his own front porch. 
“You ever touch her again, I’ll fuckin’ kill you.” He spits on the man and wraps his arm around your shoulder. He walks you back to the truck and even with his split, bloody knuckles still doesn’t allow you to open your own door. You rifle through the glovebox and find a few fast food napkins, as you expected. This might be a new truck, but he’s still the same man. You turn on the dome light in the cab and begin dabbing at his hands. 
“I’m fine, bab-” he cuts himself off again. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, leaning back in his seat.
“You’re not fine, Javier. You’re probably going to jail. You can’t just kick the shit out of people, ya know?” 
“Who do you think gave me his name and address?” 
“You are a menace to society.” 
“ Ya sabes, mamita,” you’ve missed that playful look in his eyes these past six months. You’ve missed the way he looks at you like you hung the moon. He runs his knuckle across your cheek and you lean into his hand. You share a moment like the ones in the romcoms right before the couple reconciles and gets their happily ever after. Javi leans in slightly but you pull back, not much, but enough that he notices. The hurt that flashes in his eyes breaks your heart all over again. 
Fuck it. You lean over the center console and curl your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. You pull his head closer and crash your lips into his. His lips slot between yours perfectly. Like they belong there. You know they do. You both know it. He grips your arm and pulls you over the console and settles you into his lap. His hands find familiar purchase in the meat of your hips and his denim covered bulge presses into the apex of your thighs. He pulls you close, holds you tightly as if he’s trying to press your body into his so he never has to be without you again. 
You grind down on him, lips never leaving his. His tongue dances across yours and his hands fist the fabric of your raised skirt. Neither of you care or even notice that the dome light of the cab is still on. Let them see. Let him see. When his hands snake around the front of your thighs and his thumbs settle into the creases there you moan into his mouth. It's been a long time since you’ve been touched this way. Six months to be exact. He swallows your sounds, drinks them down like a man who’s been wandering the desert. His hips buck up into yours and can feel his strained zipper rub against your covered pussy and you know that in this moment you will give him anything he wants.
His fingers wiggle their way under your panties, shoving them to the side and holding them there with his palm. He dips the tip of his middle finger inside your warm center and swirls it around. He slips it back out and up to your clit. Once his finger connects with the eight thousand nerve endings there you are already cresting the edge of a long awaited orgasm. 
He replaces his fingers with his thumb and slides his middle and ring fingers inside of you. Your walls hug his thick fingers, molding to them. You are fluttering around him already and cock twitches against your thigh. “C’mon, baby. Give it to me, mamita . I know you want to,” he whispers into your neck. Your body shudders and your cunt convulses around him. You collapse against his chest with a stuttering breath and your chest heaves against his. He slips his fingers from you and wipes them on his jeans. He cups your face with both hands and presses a kiss to your forehead. 
“Let’s get you home.” You try to reach for his zipper but he grabs your wrist and shakes his head. “Later, baby,” he’s stopped trying to correct himself. You crawl back over the console and into your seat. You use the fast food napkins still in your hand to clean the wetness from between your thighs and when you pull the napkin away, it's smeared bright red with blood. Panic floods through your body for the third time this evening until you realize that it didn’t come from you, it’s from the split skin of Javi’s knuckles. 
“Javi, your hand!” you reach for it but he just turns off the dome light and hits the button for the headlights. He shifts the truck into gear and pulls away from the curb. “I think you might need stitches.” 
“Don’t need stitches. I’ve had worse than this, mamita. ” You know there’s no point in arguing with him so you sit back in your seat and try to relax. An almost impossible task because your body is abuzz from all of the night’s happenings. The excitement and greasy diner meal have stolen your tequila buzz from hours earlier, so you now have to deal with all the evening’s events regrettably sober. 
Javi turns into your apartment complex and stops at the curb outside of your building. He rests his foot on the break and doesn’t even put the truck in park. “You’re not coming up?” you ask him with a slight tilt of your head.
“Said I was getting you home, not taking you home.” He keeps his gaze straight ahead, like if he looks at you he won’t be able to turn you down. You unbuckle your seatbelt and throw it from your chest. The clip hits the window and the noise makes Javi finally turn his attention to you. “Hey! This truck is new, ya know!” 
“Yeah, I know,” you grumble. “Thanks for getting me home.” You slam the door shut behind you and walk to your door without looking back. You dig in your bag for your keys and his truck roars away. You are trying as hard as you can to hold the tears back until you can get inside and get in the shower. All you want to do is wash the night off of you. You can still feel Javi’s fingers in your cunt, but you can also still feel those hands on your body. The ones that didn’t belong there. 
Once you’ve closed the apartment door behind you, you lean your back up against it. You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh  and sink to the floor as tears stream down your cheeks. You work your shoes off and toss them, one at a time, across the room. You don’t see where they land but they clatter loudly against the tile. The sound echoes off the bare walls of your nearly empty apartment. You’ve lived here for months but haven’t bothered to unpack anything more than the essentials. 
Three sharp raps on the door startle you, the vibrations rattle through your head. You scrub your face with the palms of your hands and stand, taking a deep breath before you open the door. “What, Javier?” 
He doesn’t say anything, just steps through the door and closes it behind him. “Wha-” he grabs you by your shoulders and backs you up against the door. His body crowds yours and his hands move your face. He cups both of your cheeks and looks into your eyes. He looks like he’s waiting for you to tell him to stop or push him away. One beat. Two. Three. That’s all he waits before he angles his face and brings his mouth to yours. 
His tongue tangles with your own, stroking it hungrily. His hands roam your body greedily and yours are already at the collar of his shirt. You grab and pull, snapping the buttons open and shoving the cotton down his bare, broad shoulders. Before you know it, the backs of your thighs hit the arm of your couch. Your clothes and his snake a trail across the floor. You sit on the arm of the couch and detach your mouth from Javi’s to catch your breath. 
You drink in the sight of his naked form, your eyes having been starved of the vision for far too long. His chest is wide and heaving with each breath he takes. It tapers down to a trim waist. He’s gone a little softer around the middle since his retirement. There’s a trail of hair that starts above his navel and leads down to a darker patch of thick curls. His cock, the tip already glistening, bobs heavily. 
“I can’t wait anymore,” Javi pants. He pulls you up by your arms and spins you around and you brace yourself, palms down, on the arm of the couch. “I need to be inside you now .” he uses his thumbs to spread your asscheeks apart and a warm glob of split lands directly on your asshole. He uses his thumb to spread it around, briefly pressing against the tight muscles there. He slaps the length of his cock against your pussy and then nudges the tip inside of you. 
You arch your back with a moan and inch your hips back, desperate to take more of him but Javi grabs your hips and holds you, as always, steady. “Patience, mamita ,” he rasps. You know then, that just like you, he hasn’t been with anyone else either. He takes a moment to slow his breath and then, without warning, buries himself completely within your walls. You cry out with the stretch, no matter how many times he fucked you there was always a stretch, and Javi leans down, chest against your back. “You can take it, baby,” he murmurs in your ear. “I know you can.” 
He presses soft kisses to the space between your shoulder blades while he pulls back, almost all the way out of you, and shoves himself back in. The breath is punched out of your lunch when he reaches the very end of you. “Javi, please, ” your plea echoes around the room, and Javi traces his fingers up your spine. He wraps his hand around the base of your neck and shoves your head forward. Your hands slip from the arm of the couch to the cushion. 
His fucks into you with vigor, giving you everything he has, pouring himself into you. His fingers dig into your neck as your hands scrabble for purchase on the cool leather. The new angle lights your nerves on fire. Nobody has ever been able to touch you in the places he can. Not even you. You’ve spent the last six months searching for that spot that his cock is knocking against, to no avail. 
The tension in your body builds and your belly burns. Javis hips snap against your ass, each thrust punctuated by a low grunt. You reach your hand between your thighs, down past the damp patch of hair and rest the heel of your palm against your clit. Your fingers trail lower and wrap gently around Javi’s balls. “ Fuck!” he shouts, pace faltering just for a moment, before he pounds into your cunt with abandon. 
Your walls clamp down around him, sucking him in even further and holding him there while you shatter into a thousand little pieces.Your arm is pinned between your body when Javi presses you further into the couch, until your cheek touches the leather and with one, two, three sharp thrusts he spills inside of you. He holds you both steady until his cock has stopped twitching and your orgasm has abated and then he collapses against your back. His breath is hot and heavy against your neck and his chest, slick with sweat, sticks to your back. 
Your fingers begin to tingle, numb from being wedged beneath both of your bodies and you push back against him. “Javi, my hand,” you groan. He huffs out a laugh and kisses you once more before standing and bringing you with him. You turn in his arms and rest your head against his chest. His pounding heart thumps in your ear and you close your eyes, reveling in the warmth of his body, his touch, his smell. Every sensation you’ve been deprived of for months. 
“Take me to bed,” you tell him quietly and he leads you down the hall to your bedroom. He pulls back the sheet and gestures for you to get in. He settles in behind you, his cock soft and still sticky when it settles against your ass. His arm curls around you and pulls you back to his chest. He rests his head on the top of your head and you hear him take in a deep breath. “Goodnight, Jav.”
“Goodnight, mamita. ” 
Your head is pounding and your body aches when your eyes flutter open. The alarm clock on your nightstand lets you know that you’ve slept well into the afternoon. You can already tell before you roll over that the other side of the bed is empty. The cold sheets let you know it’s been that way for hours. There’s still a slight indentation on the pillow where his head was resting. You hug it to your chest and breathe in the scent of him. Your relationship might be over, but each of you still belongs to the other. 
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