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#however writing young characters is so hard for me
wttcsms · 1 year
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Are you still working on the ominis fic ? 😢
i am!! i keep wanting to update it soon but some parts are a bit harder (writing younger characters and their interactions is a bit harder for me haha) + i want to flesh out the story and the relationship so that conversations or circumstances or items mentioned in the first chapter can be brought up again in future parts and everything comes together nicely <3 also, im in my final semester before graduating from uni with a bachelor’s & so i’ve been giving it my all these past few weeks x
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maryrouille · 1 month
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Toxic romanticization of studying
In a word of introduction, my profile partly shows that studying and exploring is wonderful. But as a person involved in science*, I would like to show healthy and true patterns of this beautiful adventure in acquiring knowledge.
The inspiration for writing this post this time was not the phenomenon from Tumblr (although you can also observe it here), but from Pinterest. There you can come across cycles composed of quotes and photos whose aim is to motivate young girls to learn, succeed and get good grades. These images often also show examples of characters from movies, TV series or real life that you can aspire to be like. Overall, I have to agree that it really works! But I would like to draw attention to certain elements that need to be verified.
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1. You shouldn't get up at 5am
First of all, the correct amount of sleep is one of the most important factors affecting the proper and effective functioning of our brain. During sleep, nerve cells regenerate, organize information acquired during the day and consolidate memory traces, which is directly related to learning. Lack of sleep increases impulsivity, deepens negative thinking and slows down the body's reaction time!
2. You can be a genius without good grades
Of course, good grades are a pleasant confirmation of our knowledge and praise for hard work. However, sometimes it is worth considering whether the structure of exams themselves, especially those with closed questions, affects the results. We often study for one specific exam, the knowledge of which may be very… limited and sometimes not useful, so it is worth prioritizing the topics that we study hard.
3. It's not cool to think you're better than others
We are different and have different priorities in life. It is also worth considering how many people escape from the rat race and start a slow, stress-free life. So we have to agree that judging people based on grades or responses under stress (sic!) is not cool.
The good thing about romanticizing studying
As I have already said, these types of collages are really motivating. So let's talk about what's great about them and what's worth highlighting and saving for later.
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1. Knowledge is beautiful, but your outfit and surroundings can also be
We know that we should never judge a book by its cover, but… the issue of social perception painfully confirms that we do and will continue to do so because this is how our brains work. And isn't it nice when someone looks at us and thinks this girl is so classy?
Moreover, a nice outfit that makes us feel good gives us a lot of self-confidence. There are also many studies confirming the positive impact on motivation and concentration of a neat and aesthetic workplace.
2. Not just cramming, but also discovering
Broadening your horizons is easier with passion and real commitment. And to achieve this, the topics must really interest us. Not everyone has yet found something that they are extremely passionate about in science, so that is why you have to dig deeper and discover different areas.
3. Don't be afraid to use your knowledge in practice
Schools and universities, unfortunately, have their own rules and they do not always allow you to show your 100% potential. Thus, share your knowledge with others externally, write essays, blog and social media. This form of activity also makes you learn things faster and easier. In addition, contacts with others will expand your knowledge.
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Therefore, I must say that it is worth choosing your inspirations carefully. Nothing helps you enjoy studying better than a clear head and lack of prejudices.
*This post was inspired by my own experience with studying. If anyone is interested, I think I can share my mistakes that did not help me in an academic adventure :)
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linkspooky · 15 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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mythrilthread · 2 months
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My magnum opus, the jewel of my Binderary round-up, the result of four months of hard work (that is to say, a lot of force applied over distance), the project affectionately known as The Motherfuckers (because it was rather unclear if I was going to finish these books or if they were going to be the end of me).
Force over Distance by cleanwhiteroom. It is currently also on AO3.
I was first introduced to this incredible story by a dear friend, who first sold me on actually watching SGU, and then said that they remember this fic since like 2011, which is always a promising sign. I went digging and found out I was in luck - the story was being rewritten and reuploaded on the author's blog. The next two weeks are described by the same friend as "one of the scariest moments in our cohabitation" as I'd spent literally every waking moment injecting the story directly into my eyeballs, and let me tell you, I'd not been doing a lot of sleeping at that time.
Then I gathered up my courage and reached out to CWR re: my burning desire to bind this story. And the rest, well. Let's dig into it, shall we?
This was my first time typesetting 540k words. Considering I tend to prefer larger font sizes for increased legibility, it was immediately obvious that this was going to be a multivolume project. I settled on three, as it's the relationship between three individuals that forms the core of the story.
I also knew I wanted to keep the typeset in black and white, but play around with light and dark a lot. So I did. One of the first design idea I actually had was the way I wanted to handle projected speech. Mental link between Young, Rush and Destiny is THE most vital part of the story, and I wanted to make it immediatly obvious. I also wanted to be able to take one glance at the page and tell how much of the action is actually just two guys staring each other down :) Hence the blackout effect of thoughts being represented as light over darkness.
I also wanted to preserve as much of my reading experience as possible. So I saved all the chapter quotes/summaries in the TOC, and hid the chapter content warnings in the frame of the gate that marks the beginning of each chapter. For most of the chapter the warnings stay the same, so after a while you stop really noticing them, but then you open a new chapter and see that the familiar shape of the words has changed, and get this UH-OH feeling. Which, I think is very much how it works in my design, because when the warnings change there's usually another line of text added.
For flashbacks and dream sequences I switched from italics to a lighter shade of gray. I woudn't say it's more legible per say, but it's in keeping with the overall light/dark theme.
There are instances of people using handwritten notes in the story. I collected more than a dozen of assorted handwriting fonts, with each character having their own "handwriting". So when, for example, someone begins writing in someone else's hand, you immediately know it.
The most insane, labor-intensive part of the typeset, however, was the way I decided to handle the Ancient translations. CWR's gone through the trouble of setting up hover-to-discover for it, which gives you a very different reading experience than, say, having the translations in the endnotes. So, naturally, I said to myself that I want to replicate that, and footnotes just won't do the trick. So. Every instance of Ancient in the text has an underlay of light gray Ancient script. And an OVERLAY of paper vellum with the translation printed in blue. Now, not to toot my own horn too much, but if looks SICK AS FUCK. You also MAYBE SHOULD NOT LIVE LIKE THIS. For the two copies of this work I had to cut up 10 sheets of vellum into strips, and then spent from 20 minutes to an hour per volume tipping the strips in their proper places. I then had to wear kinetic tape on both my hands to help with the joint pain. (It was worth it.)
Now for the title spread. It is also paper vellum that you see as soon as you turn the first page (the half-title), and see it covering the title of the book and author's name. And then you turn it. And the shields sing the matter wave of Destiny through the black. And yeah, I think that's very, very clever of me, actually.
Then, of course, were the endpapers. All 12 of them are unique abstract paintings done on black cardstock by hand with brush pens and correction tape, I scanned a sample of each set for posterity. All of them are my interpretations of characters' midscapes. For volume 1 I went with the fire wind of Rush's thoughts. Volume 2 was for Young, and I went for the reverse blackout poetry effect (because for all the mental talking they do, the unprojected thoughts are opaque to their counterparts) and all the loops, hairpins and blocks he does. Volume 3 is for the combination - Rush's fire wind, changing its color to match the circuitry pattern of Destiny's AI.
The rest, in comparison, is easy. All volumes are stitched with 3 strands of embroidery floss, a combination of black, blue and silvery-gray. The French double-core endbands are sewn in the same color scheme (though with a different shade of blue and gray switched for white for added contrast). The edges are painted and splattered to look like space.
The covers feature my (signature at this point, I guess) half-cloth river pattern, with the base being dark blue linen and the printed parts being Spitzer telescope images of the W51 star forge, Jack-O'-Lantern Nebula and the Eagle Nebula (courtesy of NASA), waxed by hand for added sheen. The spines are foiled in silver with a foil quill.
Each set is 5 pound of solid hand-crafted book, with one set being my personal copy, and the other sent as a gift to the author.
And that's it, folks! This has been an incredible project to work on, and I'm very proud of what I achieved with it.
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lucrativesoul · 10 months
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Welcome Home
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summary: you finally graduated college and are home free for the summer, planning to spend as much time as possible with your best friend. what you weren't planning for, however, was the incredible sight of her older brother, Leon, who had drastically changed after all those years. you had never thought you would fall for your best friend's brother.
pairing: leon kennedy (re2) x fem! reader
word count: 9.3k
warnings: smut, bathroom sex, public sex, fingering, dom(ish) leon
a/n: guys, thank you endlessly for 300+ followers, 250+ reblogs and all those likes! i'd like you all to take a moment to read this, apologies... i absolutely love writing. I've been writing for ten years! crazy. i do it for fun, and because i want to put out the content that i want to consume and i want to be that outlet for people who don't write but want to consume, that is just as fair! a while ago, while writing this, my laptop gave me a scare. i'm realizing now that its a 5 year old macbook, which, in apple timeline, means it might be on the way out at the blink of an eye. if you are feeling generous at all, i have created a ko-fi. it is absolutely not necessary, because i'm not doing this blog for money, but if you really love my work and want other ways to support me, it's there. i will never be upset at no donations, but i made it in hopes that i'm on this blog for a long time. so sorry for the rambling, i really hope you guys enjoy this one, and i will be back soon for a fifth fic. love u!
No matter how many young adult fiction books you read, how many love story tropes you think you have seen, there was just one that seemed so unreasonable, it was almost laughable. Because, after all, you spent way too much time with this person to ever even see him as attractive, it had never even crossed your mind. Come on, your best friend’s brother? The boy who was so ungracious, messy, impolite, and had a crude, childish sense of humor? It was just unrealistic.
Until… It was realistic.
For all your life, you looked at Leon Kennedy as the young, bumbling boy who tripped over his own two feet at any given opportunity, ready to make jokes at inappropriate times and constantly worked overtime to barge in when you and your best friend were hanging out. He was only two years older than you, but his personality read the same age, if not, younger. Boys will be boys…
You always knew that college would change a person, and you can’t deny that about yourself, but it was so hard to look at the people you were closest to and imagine that they, too, changed with college. Your best friend was still the same person you knew since middle school, and all those years that you knew Leon, he had never changed, until he left for college himself. You were confident in knowing that when he came back, he would be the same exact person, just… older.
You could not have been more wrong.
“These days could not go by any faster.” Your best friend whined to you over the phone, a daily routine between the two of you. “I need you home ASAP, Leon is driving me crazy. He’s being so loud.”
Yep, that sounded pretty in character for him. “I know, just five more days, and I’m home free, forever. I wish commencement wasn’t even happening at this rate, I’m wasting away here.”
You were finishing up your last days as a college senior at a school that was a thousand miles away from home. The scholarship opportunity was incredible, and you could not say no to this offer. Your best friend chose to stay local, which you inwardly criticized, but would never say to her. You knew her parents could have afforded to send her here, who needs that big of a house for a family of four anyway?!
Commencement was set to happen on Thursday, and it was currently Sunday. Your own parents had flown in to watch you walk the stage, and while you knew your best friend would have dropped everything to come as well, her school chose to hold theirs on the same exact day. Figures.
“I miss you guys. The summers I came home just weren't enough. I have to say, I’m so glad this internship bullshit is over. It feels like I haven’t ever even lived with you.”
You heard her groan on the other line. “I know! It’s so stupid. Why would a program even make it so you could only intern in the summer? Don't they know you are only in your twenties once?!”
You laughed at her remark, gazing off as you continued the conversation. Classes were over and exams were concluded, at least you had a healthy pile of books to go through to pass the time. You decided to worry about the logistics of taking them home at a later date.
There’s something so innocent about getting lost in the world of young adult romance. Some would say it makes their own lives dreary, coming to the conclusion that they could never live out these fantasies in the real world, but to you, it felt real anyways. It only made you happier. It puts some optimism in your life.
The comfy plane read you chose was about a high school girl, absolutely smitten over the five-years-older brother of her best friend. This type of thing, you thought, just seemed too… fairytale, to be real. In no world where you knew someone as a child could you grow up and think they were an object of fantasy. You tried picturing you and Leon in this situation. Never!
Admittedly, you haven’t seen Leon in like 4 years. The last time you saw him, it was right before you left for college, and your major requires summer internships which leave a very small window for home visits. You never crossed paths during those times. From what your friend tells you, he’s rarely home now, he must have migrated to a new group of friends in college and found other passions. Good for him, you thought, you wish you could say the same, but you needed the income from whatever job you landed from your internship.
He was never really a tiny boy in high school, he was of a pretty average build and rivaled some of the football players, but he was not an athletic kid. You can’t imagine him changing that much more, your best friend never talked about him like that, obviously, so, you only had to imagine after the last time you saw him.
From your own personal standpoint, it was just impossible to believe in this best friend’s brother trope. You shut the book and closed your eyes, willing the plane to start moving faster.
As soon as your plane touched down, you whipped your phone out to send a text: As soon as all this shit is put away, I’m coming straight over.
Predictably, less than three minutes later: YES!! All nighter, we’re 14 again. I have drinks in the fridge.
Willing yourself through all the pleasantries of coming home, promising other relatives you would be by in a few days when you are settled, you merely threw your suitcase down into your room before dashing out to your car, knowing the route to your best friend’s house even with your eyes closed. 
A tight, running start hug was the intro you both needed as a fresh start to the summer.
“Please tell me you are home for good now, they aren't making you do any more summer internships?”
You laughed as you followed her into the house. It felt like it’s been forever since you’ve been in this large house’s lived-in walls. “No, thank god. I’m officially done. Except for job hunting, but I’m putting that off for as long as I can get away with it.”
“Agreed.”
As you followed her up the steps to her room, snacks and drinks spilling over your arms, a loud cacophony rang out through the house, coming from the garage. “What the hell is that?” You stopped short, listening to it through the closed door.
“Wow, that’s how I really know it’s been forever since you’ve been here. I’m so used to it now. It’s a band that Leon is a part of. The ‘rents loaned out a car space in the garage.”
Wow, you thought, multiple things to dissect here. One: this has been going on for some time now, and you never knew. You didn’t blame your friend for not bringing it up, it wasn’t weird to not mention a new hobby of her brother’s. Two: Leon apparently knew how to play an instrument. You couldn’t recall anytime seeing him play anything, and he had never expressed an interest in singing, so that was difficult to digest. Three: their parents would give up a car space just for them to do this. They still had two car spaces left in there.
“God, it’s really been that long, huh? I’ll have to get him to spill all about this whenever he comes out.”
You heard a groan from in front of you on the stairs, and you hopped up to be beside her, headed to her bedroom. “If you can even catch him. He’s like a slippery snake. Plus, he’s so private, I don't know what happened to him. Anyway, you should come over tomorrow night and pregame with me and the girls, cause…” 
She droned on, and while you still had half of your brain paying attention to her, you couldn’t help but think about that sentence she just said. Leon’s different now? The slippery snake part didn’t make many waves, you weren’t surprised that a man in his mid twenties didn’t want to be bothered, but you didn’t expect a whole new personality to come out of him. What happened while he was gone? Or, what kind of epiphany did he have?
“Oh, my god, look at this, too. I totally forgot to send you this. I’m so mad you missed it!”
Your best friend shoved a phone in your face, and you took it, grateful for the mental topic switch. It was a group of four girls and five boys, your old friends, standing along a cliffside in bathing suits. You assumed this was the cliff jumping extravaganza you heard about over the phone a couple weeks ago. And, yes, you were also mad you missed it.
“This looked like so much fun, I haven't seen all of them in forever. Maybe we can convince everyone to do it again soon.” You looked up and smiled as your friend laughed. You looked back down to the photo. “Who is this?”
She leaned over you as you zoomed in on a man in the top right, his lower half covered by a girl bending forward for a photo, but you could tell he was incredibly toned. His hair was pushed back with water from the lake below, and a broad smile graced his features. You sensed familiarity, but you had never met this person before.
Your friend scoffs. “Girl, what? That’s Leon.”
“What?!” Has it really been that long since you’ve seen Leon in person? Now that you look at it again, yep, that’s definitely him, but why does he look so different? Thinking back, it wasn’t often you spent time with him around after he graduated high school and went to college. You saw him probably even less than you visited home during your college career, and honestly, it has probably been years since you’ve seen him at all. “He looks so… different.”
“Like I said, I don’t know what happened. Maybe he won’t recognize you either.” You handed her phone back to her. Maybe, you wondered, but you doubted it. Nothing about you changed at all. You woke up every day waiting for a magical overnight nose job and five month glute progress from the gym that you didn’t go to, but it never happened. 
The night carried on, the strange questions about Leon’s college whereabouts pushed to the back of your mind. It felt so good to be back home. The summer was only just getting started, and with the buzz running through your system, you couldn't feel anything except excitement.
“I’m out of water, fuckkk,” You moaned. Your friend giggled at you. 
“Go get some. And don’t fall.” If you were any more sober you would have glared at her for this, reminding you of the time you drunkenly took a tumble down her stairs, but right now, it was only a funny memory as you totally didn’t have an iron grip on the railing as you walked down.
The rest of the house was dark and quiet now. You remembered her saying her parents were somewhere else, so you hadn’t seen them at all tonight, and there was no longer heavy music coming from the garage. You instinctively turned your head that way, like it would magically start up again.
You stumbled over to the refrigerator, yanking it open and hearing all the bottles clink around on the door. It took you a second to collect your bearings, but after a few more seconds, water was located, and you let your eyes readjust to the darkness as you shut the door. A figure in the darkness made you yelp.
“Goddamnit, you scared me!” You placed a hand over your beating heart.
A deep laugh floated through the air at this, but you were still partially blinded. “Hey, you. I’m sorry, I thought you were my sister.”
Leon. 
You blinked hard a few times, willing the night vision to return, and a little bit of your drunkenness away. You took a hard look at the man in front of you, as good of a look as you could. You only saw a silhouette, a dark shirt, hair over his forehead, and he was taller than you, wider, stronger. This was not the Leon you remember from high school.
“Leon. It’s so nice to see you.” You tried your hardest to sound normal, but surely he already knew what the two of you were up to.
“Yeah, it’s been a while.” Slowly, your vision was returning, and his facial features were becoming prominent. Eyes. Mouth. Smile. “Congratulations on graduating, back home for good now?” 
“Yeah, yes. Thank god. Thank you.” You could now tell you were fumbling over your words, and suddenly wanting nothing more than to go back upstairs. “I’ll be here a lot more often now, so get used to me.” You walked around him back to the stairs, listening to that low chuckle that you got out of him. God, you really needed another drink.
The night and next day bore on with nothing too important left to remember about it, as long as you were in the confort of your home town again getting fucked up with nowhere to be, it was a great time as far as you were concerned. 
Though, despite continuing to drink that night and waking up a little unsteady the next morning, you couldn’t shake that brief encounter you had with Leon. You could barely see him in the dark, but you could already tell he looked different. His build was wider than the last time you saw it, he even looked a little taller. He had only ever been maybe an inch above you, but since he disappeared to college, it looked like he went up at least five. Or maybe you were shrinking. 
You were mad it was so dark and you were on the edge of tipsy and drunk to be able to clearly see him. You saw him in the photo of the outing at the cliffside, but you really didn't want to believe that was him. He was almost… sexy.
Which was crazy. You had never thought of Leon like that. Yes, there was some sort of novelty to having a crush on the only consistent older man in your life whom you weren’t related to, but whenever you came face to face with him, it was just normal. You felt nothing, he was just there. 
But this… this could change everything. Was he actually attractive now? God knows you weren’t the best at being normal around people who you thought were attractive, and that could make things infinitely awkward with being around your best friend so often. And your best friend, what would she even think? You can’t confide in her to tell her you might think her older brother is hot. This was all messed up. This is not how you wanted summer to start.
A few days had passed with no rift, and your momentary crisis left with no memory. You discovered, though, as much as you couldn’t wait for summer to roll around so you could be free of your duties, your days were much more boring than you had anticipated. With your past summer internships, you were always busy, and had one or two days a week to rest at most. But now, with the summer sun high in the sky and no requirements of you anymore, you were at a loss of anything to do other than sit by your best friend’s pool, baking in the heat.
“They’re having some start-of-summer party going on in one of the campus houses tonight, are we down?”
You didn’t move your head nor open your eyes as your friend spoke to you. “Yeah, sure. It will be more of a time than drinking with just us.”
She sighed. “You can say that again.”
You pushed yourself up off the chair. “I’ll be back, don’t drown.”
You listened to her sarcastic response as you went inside the house, needing a moment to cool down, and to refill your drink. As you slid the glass door shut, you were greeted with the sound of loud instruments, reminding you of the first night you came here once returning from school. Leon must have had his bandmates come over some time while the both of you were outside, as you don’t remember hearing this, or seeing anyone else. You ignored it, and stalked past the door, headed upstairs to the kitchen.
The music stopped, a door opened, and chatter became clearer without the barrier. You didn’t know who else Leon could have here, you didn’t know his friends, and you were suddenly too aware of the bikini you had on. Whatever, you soothed your anxiety, I look good.
“Oh, hey.” You turned around at the strange voice, not recognizing the person standing at the stairway, headed towards the kitchen. “Now it’s a party.”
“Dude, gross.” A more familiar voice followed quickly behind the quip, and Leon’s head became visible as he climbed the stairs. “Sorry.” He spoke now to you, visibly doing his best to keep eye contact with you. Now you could really feel your half-nakedness. 
“Doesn’t sound like you guys are making much progress out there.” You joked, turning your head back to where you were filling your water bottle. You heard Leon’s friend laugh, making a remark along the lines of blaming other people in the band, but you unintentionally tuned him out.
“We’re trying.” Leon was closer to you now, and when you turned, his friend had disappeared, probably into the bathroom. Leon was grabbing drinks from the fridge, and the two of you were separated by the kitchen island, sunlight illuminating both of you.
His hair was a shade darker than you remembered it being, still blonde, but almost brown. It came down to touch his ears, and the pieces of bangs on his forehead were clumped together with sweat. He had on a gray tank, the ones with the arm holes that go down to your ribcage. His arms, god, those arms–
“Doing anything fun out there?” He walked around the island, even closer to you now, getting cups from the cabinets. 
You shook your head. “Just trying to become a leather couch while I’m still young.” You fixed the top of your water bottle back on, but didn’t move from your spot, taking the chance to talk to Leon.
“That’s the spirit.” He placed the cups down on the counter and leaned on it, clearly standing around to talk to you, too. You noticed a bandage wrapped around his right hand as he crossed his arms.
“What happened there? Start scrapping with the wrong people?” 
He lifted it and looked at it, like he just realized it was there. He laughed softly. “This might sound gross, but it's just a callus that burst open the other day. Right when I was used to holding drumsticks all the time.”
You sighed a gentle laugh. “Doesn’t that hurt, still using it?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I just didn’t want to start touching shit and get it all gross again.” He set his hand back down. You took the silence to ask another question. 
“When did the drums start? That was never a thing as far as I can remember.” He looked down, slowly nodding his head, as if trying to piece together memories of what his life was like the last time he saw you.
He sighed. “I kind of picked it up during college. I thought it was a lot of fun. I knew a lot of guys at the time who were in a bunch of different bands, so they had access to all these instruments, and I tried a bunch, but the only one that stuck was drums. I guess it’s easy and I like it only because I still can’t read sheet music for the life of me.”
You smiled softly at his explanation. Looking at him in the daylight, now, you can see the old him in his features. He grew into his face, his cheekbones slightly more pronounced, and his dimpled chin fitting perfectly into his jawline. His eyes were soft, yet tired. Still the bright blue you remember them being.
“Are you any good?”
He smiled fully at this, looking back up to you. “Of course. I know it sounds like ass right now, but we’re trying out some new stuff. But, and maybe I’m just biased, I think we have some really solid potential.”
You shrugged, a grin still present on your face. “I’ll have to see it to believe it.”
Leon stood up now, grabbing the cups and the still tied together 6-pack. “I agree. We’re doing a local show next Wednesday night. I’m always inviting my sister, but she doesn’t like going alone, and the rest of your friends don’t like that bar.” You smiled at this. Sounds typical of your friends. “Maybe she will come if you will. And, uh, if you’re still with that guy, he can come, too.”
Your brow furrowed at this. “Guy?”
Leon shrugged. “Oh, well, she told me in passing that you were with some guy last summer. From around here.”
You paused to think about this, nearly forgetting your whole past trying to rake your brain for a memory. It then hit you. “Oh, shit, yeah, that was definitely just a summer thing. He was…” A douche, conceited, horrible at sex. “Not the best. I’m not seeing anybody. And definitely not while school was in. I was way too busy for that.” 
He nodded, standing up a little straighter. “Well, that’s good. And fuck that guy.” You giggled at his support. “I think you should come. I’d be happy to see you there.”
And, oddly, for the first time ever speaking with Leon, your stomach did a flip that only ever happened when you were talking to someone whom you liked. It caught you off guard, and your words caught on your throat.
You nodded quickly, using the opportunity to take a deep breath in. “Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ve got the time to, now.”
“Cool. I won’t disappoint, I promise.” With that, Leon bounded back across the room and down the stairs, opening and shutting the door to the garage. You sighed deeply. You didn’t like the feeling that was creeping up inside of you.
Putting your newfound conundrum aside for the night, you resolved to let loose and get back to enjoying the summer the way you had intended to. You were almost tempted to stick around and listen once his band got started with the music again as you were on your way outside, but decided against it, as your friend would surely be asking what took so long. 
Part of you wished Leon had gone to this little party tonight, considering he knew all of your mutual friends, but he was never the party type before this, and it seemed that college did not change that much either. It would make sense if he had a gig coming up, they must be preparing, but you didn’t picture him to be much of a perfectionist. Maybe that changed as well.
“Why are we going to this again?” Your friend asked as she followed you out of her house, locking the door behind her. She seemed awfully quick to keep up with you for complaining about doing something she doesn't want to.
“I don’t know, it gives us something to do. Leon asked me to come. Now you’re coming with me.”
“What? Why did Leon ask you to come? He doesn't ask me.” The two of you slid into her sleek black coupe. 
You shrugged as you fastened the belt. “I saw him the other day when I was here, I came in while we were out by the pool. We were just talking. And he said he does invite you, by the way, but you never go.”
She was the one to shrug this time. “Maybe he does. You think there will be hot men here?”
“We’re both hoping.” You half-assed the response, but you already knew the answer was yes. You could never tell her you think Leon is attractive now. You had been mulling it over the past few days, ever since you spoke to him, and you had no choice but to confirm it. He really, really grew into his body. You could even push the curiosity aside to wonder what it was about college that changed him like that, you were just thankful it happened.
Your local bar looked just as you remembered, dark and looming from the outside, people filing in and out simultaneously. It was much busier than you had ever seen it, but the show was most likely the reason for the sudden influx in customers.
The crowd was a thick mass, and you had trouble even spotting the stage when you walked in, but once you and your friend had found a nice little corner, vacant of bodies, and conveniently found a third mutual friend to stand by, the room seemed a little less stuffy.
You absentmindedly scanned the crowd, people hoarding in front of the stage, waiting to be the first to break open the mosh pit, presumably, people in the back drinking idly and chatting, almost like they don't even know a show is happening this night. You found yourself looking for Leon. He was in the building somewhere. You wished you could have told him you were there, but what good would that have done? He wouldn’t have come out to say hello, there were preparations to be had back there.
God, shut up already, you willed at yourself, annoyed at the mere fact that you couldn’t stop thinking of Leon.
Admittedly, you thought of that first scene more often than not recently. The muscle shirt, ribcage exposed, thick arms, sweet smile and bouncy cheeks with a strong jawline, the vision came to you during the day, at breakfast, while you were scrolling your phone, late at night, when the moon was your only company. 
You wondered what he would look like tonight. You were so anxious for him to step out on stage. Would he see you?
Your friend stumbled sideways into you, knocking you out of your monetary stupor. People were now starting to crowd in, hence the bump, and you were assuming the start of the set was about to happen.
On cue, the lights went darker, the roar of the crowd exploded, and people rushed on stage and took their places. Your eyes were instantly drawn to Leon, who, from what you could only see from the backlight so far, had on another muscle shirt. It made your legs feel like jelly.
The lights went on, and after a brief introduction from the front man who was holding a guitar, they started. Leon was right, they were pretty good when they weren’t rehearsing new material. You knew this wasn’t the type of music your best friend was into, but to your surprise, she was bopping away with your other mutual friend, both of them holding drinks. That’s probably why.
Turning back, you could see Leon clearly under the lights now, which were strobing in and out, flashing different colors and patterns. His hair was pushed back this time, exposing his forehead, and looking brand new. You liked the way it looked on him, it made him almost look older. Everytime a strong beam of light would shine down on him, you could see the glistening sweat on his skin, his face. He was so focused on hitting the beats, and succeeded everytime, and you were so enticed by it.
This was a side of Leon you never thought you would see. It was so clear, standing in the crowd watching, how much he belonged up there. He looked so confident, every move was made with ease, no hesitation, and you could feel yourself melting.
It was like a headrush, you didn’t think you would enjoy it this much, but clearly, every moment took your breath away. Yes, you were looking at Leon the whole time, but who could really tell?
Soon enough, the show ended, and the crowd was applauding for what felt like ten minutes as the individual members left the stage, thanked everyone, hopped down to talk to others. You were interrupted with your people-watching when your friend grabbed you by the elbow to let you know she was headed back to the bar for more drinks, and you absentmindedly nodded while you turned back.
You caught the back of Leon, dipping behind the stage into the back of the bar. The tips of your fingers tingled with… something, some emotion you couldn’t read… and you let your body take over as you weaved through the crowd, headed to the back.
People bumped you and yelled in your ears as you squeezed in between them, paying them no mind, on a mission of your own.
After a few seconds, you reached a hallway, a few people lingering by the bathrooms, and you spotted someone, you recognized him as the frontman, dipping behind another doorway, chattering loudly to people behind the wall. Times like this, you wished you had decided to down some liquid courage.
You stalked slowly over to the doorway, seeing flashes of shadow as people walked by, unsure if you should hang out or go in. Most likely, you weren’t welcome, it was probably for performers only, but you couldn’t help it, you continued inching closer, drawn in by an unseen force.
As you took another step inward, a figure rushed out and crashed right into you. 
“Oh shit, I’m sorry, bathrooms are that way if you’re looking for them, this is restricted access.” You looked up at the man you walked into, you didn’t know who it was. 
“Oh, um…” You backed up a step, and though he was making moves to walk around you, he was waiting for a response. “I was actually waiting for Leon… the drummer.” You added in the title, just in case this was a man who worked at the bar with no affiliation to the band. But, to your relief, he nodded.
“I’ll get him, just chill over there, ‘kay?”
You dumbly nodded and backed up again. The hallway was lit with fluorescents, the bright white kind, but it was still dark, with the walls and floors looking slick with condensation. You opted not to lean up against them.
“Hey, you’re still here?” A voice snapped your head back over to your left, and you saw Leon walking towards you. “You didn’t leave with the rest of them?” He must have seen your other friend there as well.
You shook your head. “They’re still here, I think. Just getting drinks.” He nodded. “I told you I would come.” You held your arms out in a here I am gesture. He laughed.
“I’m so glad. I didn’t see you while I was up there, but… I do tend to just tune everything else out when I play.”
“You did great. You were really good.” You spoke, almost breathless for no apparent reason. 
He smiled softly, his eyes holding contact with yours. “Thank you.” His hair was now starting to fall back into place on his forehead, his face was still red with exerted energy. Your eyes wandered, without your permission, his arms were shining under the hallway lights, still sweaty. You looked away, but he saw. “You look great tonight.” His voice was low, and a twist went straight down your abdomen.
You smiled back. You briefly looked down at your outfit, simply a short skirt and loose band tee. “Thank you. It’s nothing.” 
“I like it.” He looked back into your eyes, and you found yourself lost for words. He broke eye contact for a second, turned around and looked into the back room where, presumably, the rest of his bandmates were. He turned back to you. “You know,” He looked down, and took a step forward towards you, slowly, as if to test the waters. You stayed put. “It’s been so long since I saw you last. I almost didn’t recognize you the first night you were at the house.” You grinned at the memory. You were also equally stunned to not know Leon had changed so much. “Not that you weren’t before but… You’re beautiful, now.” 
Your stomach sank at his words, and with his new proximity to you, it caused you to have to look up at him. You felt a strong shiver course up your body.
“I really… I didn’t recognize you. You look so different, too.” You whispered, knowing he was close enough to hear you. “I didn’t even think it was you at first.”
He simply stared at you for a few more moments, taking in your words, and the way you looked in front of him right now. You were suddenly self conscious, but his gaze seemed to tell you that he liked whatever he saw.
“I… don’t want to back you into any corners here…” He looked down, still not meeting your eyes. “But you’re giving me a… vibe. And I’d rather fuck around and find out than never know if I don’t try.”
You stood up straighter, coming closer to meet his face, his eyes finally touching back onto yours. “What kind of vibe?” You had to say something, anything, because you could barely comprehend this situation right now. Leon was catching a vibe from you? Could he tell that you were looking at his body? Could he tell that you thought he became very sexy?
He tilted his head a little further, and his brow bone cast a shadow over his eyes, darkening them. Another shiver down your body. He shrugged. “I think I just… think you are incredibly attractive, now.” His eyes darted down your body for a quick second before resuming their previous place. “And I want to know if you want to just try it out. Just once.”
You took a quick, silent breath in. He must have been picking up your messages, even though you said nothing and only spoke to him once. Was that one conversation that powerful? Was it the hint you dropped about not being with that guy anymore? Was this something he just knew he was going to attempt as soon as he saw you? You didn’t know, and you really didn’t have the time to think it over.
You reached up and placed a hand on his chest, slowly taking the shirt on his body in your hands, pulling him closer, but with no force. His eyes darted up behind you, and he turned his head quickly one more time. He saved you the trouble, and dipped his head down and kissed you hard.
You sighed instantly, fully gripping his shirt and dragging him in closer to you, pushing your body against his as you could feel him move towards you at the same time. You were exploding, you didn’t know what to do with the rest of your body, and could only bring your other hand up to his bicep, where he then palmed your waist. He pulled back after a few seconds.
“Follow me,” His face was flushed, and when he turned around, you were very quick to follow. He maneuvered the two of you through the back room, where people still were congregating, but none of them paid much attention to the two of you. You passed by his other bandmates, and when he turned the corner, he pushed open a door, and ushered you inside. It was a bathroom. “This is the best I can do right now.”
Instead of replying, you simply grabbed his face in both hands and pulled him in. The room was dark, you could tell from under your eyelids as you felt the heat of his face on yours again, and you were at least happy for that, you weren’t too sure you wanted to see the state of the bar’s bathroom at this moment.
His hands found solace again on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles, and fingers teasing along the waistband of your skirt. Leon pressed himself further into you, sandwiching you in between him and the wall, and the stark difference in temperature between the two caused another series of shivers to run up your body.
Leon’s mouth left your lips, now wet and slick with his saliva and yours, and traced them down the length of your jaw, along your neck, nipping at the tender skin, making you sigh and arch your back, increasing the contact of your bodies. Your hands dragged along his sturdy shoulders, reaching around and locking your arms behind his neck, holding him in as he worked your neck, and as his hands started to move. You kept breathily gasping as he bit underneath your jawline, fingertips caressing your jutting hip bone, dipping lower, causing ripples to erupt in your core.
He had positioned his hands now to take purchase on the hem of your skirt, full intentions of pulling it up, when he released his lips from your neck and his face was back in front of yours. 
“Sorry that this is all we have.” His voice was low, and you almost didn't hear it over the static of the bar music softly coming in through the speakers. “We can wait if you want.”
His hand was still positioned on your clothing, and you didn’t let go of him even a little bit. You could only look up, your head already touching the wall behind you. “Where’s the thrill in that?”
Under his shadow, you saw his lips quirk up slightly, he breathed a laugh, and dove back in to kiss you. You threaded your fingers through his hair, slightly tugging, hearing him groan at the sensation. The hand that was ready to hike your skirt up did just that, and his other was gripping your thigh, lifting it higher so he could slide himself right in between. 
He made himself comfortable pressed against you, and you could feel his erection growing through his jeans, giving himself some sort of friction, and you pushed back, earning another groan through your still connected lips. You dropped one of your hands from his hair and traced down his bicep, and into the large hole of his shirt, relishing in every ridge that his ribcage and abdomen had to offer. His skin was so smooth, you knew you would never be able to get enough.
He backed away from the kiss briefly for another moment. “If I never saw you that day you came inside, half naked… in my house looking like that…” He continued to grind himself into you as he spoke, earning noises from the both of you. “Who knows how long I would have to wait?” The hand on your thigh crept upward, leaving a wake of shivers in its path. His palm was flush to your bare skin, reaching the joint of your thigh and hip, and he squeezed the flesh of your hip, digging his thumb into the sweet spot, making you squirm. You clawed at his back, you didn’t even care if it hurt him. You were sure it didn’t.
Leon hovered his mouth over yours, not connecting, but enticing you, and you could only look up at him through a foggy gaze. His hair had now fallen back over his forehead, streaked with sweat, but you hardly minded the way it was touching yours, you wanted him closer. It was impossible how, through the shadow he cast from the light behind him, you could see his blue eyes so clearly, pupils blown, the way he was looking at you made you want to drop dead.
You couldn’t wait any longer, you didn’t even have words to say back to him, you just needed to show him what you thought, how you felt, you just needed him. Your hands came around the front of his body again, not losing contact the entire way, and grasped desperately at his belt, needing to pull out his girth, needing to have his cock in your hands, mouth, in you.
You gasped, trying to form words, but his presence was so dominating, you almost couldn’t. “Leon…” You breathed, and your fingers couldn’t work the clasp fast enough. “Let me…” Finally, it slid open, you pulled the two ends of the belt apart, and made quick work to free his dick from its constraints. Your knees buckled, and you started sliding down the wall.
As you were about to hit the ground, his hands hoisted you back up from under your arms, and you could have whined, the frustration growing, the time only growing in between you getting to have him in your mouth.
“No, I’m sorry,” He grunted as he pulled you up. He put both hands under your thighs, and you gasped as he suddenly picked you up, you wrapped your arms around his neck for balance. “You’re not getting on this floor for me, we’ll save that for another time.”
Another time. Fuck, just those words alone had you melting in his grasp, his strong hands and arms holding you up, walking you around the corner of the bathroom and shutting the two of you in a stall.
“But, you already started this for me, so,” He had you pressed in between himself and the wall once again, one of his arms was still holding you up in the air, legs wrapped around his torso. He tried to separate himself as much as he could to pull his cock out, you reached down in between the two of you to help him, pulling the waistband forward so he could pull them down.
Your breath caught as he pulled it out, a solid, thick length, rock hard, and you were suddenly so mad he wouldn’t let you suck it, because, fuck you would have sucked the life out of him at just the sight of his dick. 
Once he was free, he stroked himself a couple of times, causing himself to moan, and shit, you almost did, too, and he went back to the hem of your skirt, pushing it up over your hips, exposing your small underwear. He eyed them for a moment, humming in acceptance, before sliding them sideways and exposing your aching pussy to the cool air. You, in contrast, were overheating in this bathroom, but now that you were free, it felt so nice, and it felt even better when he ran his fingers along the length, in between your folds, pressing into your clit to watch you squirm again under him.
You sighed loudly, moans slipping out with your breathing as his contact with your heat felt like heaven, your head leaned back and hit the wall, but you didn’t care, you couldn’t feel it, you felt nothing but Leon’s fingers right now.
“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” He was breathing heavily, and you choked out a whimper when he slid one of his fingers in, and it wasn’t stopped with any friction. You also couldn’t believe how wet you were, but then again, you would jump hurdles to be able to suck his dick right here and now, so it must have gotten you worked up. “You feel so good around me.” He mumbled, practically groaned out, sliding in a second finger with ease, the slick sounds becoming louder as he worked you open, and while it felt so good, you just needed him to fuck you already.
“Leon…” You kept whining, unable to say anything else, mind fading, only wrapped around the feeling of him pleasuring you, fingering you, loosening you up for him. “Please, Leon…” You moved your hips, trying to signal to him to pull his fingers out, but he resisted, his hand following the movements of your hips, only going deeper, causing you to squeal when he went as far in as he could.
“Stay still, take it…” Now he pushed himself back against you, finding your lips again and kissing passionately, trapping his fingers inside you, and when you felt them move inside of you, you couldn’t help but squirm against him. His tongue caressed your lips, the inside of your mouth, and your tongue as he was so entwined in kissing you and in fingering you to the edge, his other hand gripping relentlessly at your ass.
After what felt like forever, he backed away, strings of saliva connecting your mouths, his eyes darker than ever, and you, breathing heavily, working to regain composure. He slid his fingers out, a small hiss escaping your lips with the emptiness.
“Fuck,” He sighed, and he looked back down in between you two. He adjusted his grip on your thigh and ass as he used his now free hand to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance, you felt a throb hit the core of your pussy at the mere sight, and you instinctively tightened when he teasingly dragged the tip along your lips, not giving you what he knew you wanted.
You sighed frustratingly, and couldn’t help it but to reach down and wrap your own hand around his dick. The sudden contact made him gasp, but he caught your hand and prevented you from piloting the moment.
“Just relax…” You didn’t need to look up to hear the smile painting his face, and as much as you wanted to protest, you knew he had the upper hand. This time. “You’ll get it, just be patient.” He drew a couple more lines into you, with your hand still trapped under his on his cock, which you could feel it throb every few seconds, and he finally pushed the tip into you.
You whimpered, whole body going slack, and you drew your hand back from his dick to find closure on his shoulder, steadying yourself as he slowly pushed himself all the way in. He had to stop every other second to collect himself as well, jaw tightened, hands gripping bruises into your hips and legs, a long, deep sigh once he was bottomed out.
He brought himself closer to you, relishing in the feeling of you being wrapped around him, unmoving, and he had his face in the crook of your neck, as if to ground himself from the feeling. Your body was shaking slightly, and you could barely breathe with his weight on top of you, but it all felt so good. His skin was slick, sweat coating anywhere that wasn’t exposed to the air, and your hands drawing deep scratches into his shoulder blades.
“Fuck, fuck…” You felt Leon’s lips moving against your throat, and his breath was hot, you could tell he was desperate to move inside of you, but he was still. “You’re so tight, god…” His lips moved up to place gentle kisses along your jawline, and your head rolled to the side to give him more access. He stayed there for a second, teeth grazing your skin, and after a while you were ready for him to start moving.
You picked your head up and turned sideways, forcing him to look directly at you, wasting no time in reconnecting your lips, and, while continuing to kiss you, he slowly slid out, and pushed himself back in.
The both of you were glued to each other as he continued to thrust in and out, your hands gripping impossibly hard on his shoulders, thighs shaking, breaths choppy. His eyes never left your face, he was watching your expressions so closely, you had no control over whatever was happening to you, you could barely breathe, you were so focused on the feeling that Leon was delivering, you simply ceased to acknowledge the setting you both were in.
“God, Leon…” You choked out in between gasps, head hitting the wall over and over, trying to helplessly grind your hips into his when he thrust up, but you had no energy to move against him. He took the initiative, and every time he would plunge into you, he would stay there for a beat longer, and make sure your previously ignored clit was getting the friction it needed, which made you whine even louder.
His breaths were so heavy, spitting out ‘Fuck’, and ‘Oh, shit’, and ‘So good’ every few seconds, letting his train of thought loose as he let himself go, and lost control of the pace.
One of his hands let go of your thigh, and it landed along your chin, forcing your head down to look into his eyes. “How does that feel, hm? So hard to move in you, so tight.” His voice was a broken mess, just breaths, essentially, but it was all you needed to spur you on. 
You simply nodded, knowing the words were nowhere close to coming out right now. Even if you tried, it would be a mess of moans and gasps. You could feel him so deep inside of you, hitting that point to split you open, your pussy was endlessly wet, enough to fuel a whole round or two, and he let you know.
On another thrust, he pushed himself in and sat there for a moment, your moans spilling out without reserve, you both tensed as the unmistakable sound of the creaking door was heard.
Leon took his right hand, free from holding you up, and laced it over your mouth, silencing any sounds of pleasure that you had left in you. 
You were both stiff, eyes wide, and he had his head swung in the direction of the noise. The footsteps approached the counter and turned the sink on. If they were to walk around the corner, they would see Leon’s legs under the door, and could have easily walked in, considering he didn’t shut it all the way, it was just stopped by his body behind it.
He slowly turned his head back to face you, you couldn’t move due to the weight of his hand, and you wanted to writhe under him so bad, feeling his cock throb still deep inside of you while you both were still. Tears were practically forming in your eyes.
He locked eyes with you, and without a sound, mouthed the words Be quiet.
He kept his hand clamped over your mouth, but he slowly adjusted your position so he could slide out of you at a snail’s pace. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting him to move, and you used all of your remaining energy to hold yourself together, being overcome by the pleasure while also staying conscious of the person who was still at the bathroom sink. You were glad there was still music playing outside in the bar, and the sink was still running, because if it were dead silent, they definitely would have been able to hear the wet sound of Leon pulling out, and fucking back in. 
He held eye contact with you while he continued to do this, holding you so tightly to make sure nothing made any noise,and a devilish grin broke out onto his face. He was enjoying every second of this. 
He was basically getting off on the idea of pushing you to your limit, forcing you to obey what he asked you to, even if it would benefit the both of you rather than just one. If Leon were shameless enough, he could have told them to fuck off, but instead, he held you here, silenced you, yet drove you to the fucking brink just to watch you fall apart. It made you want to cum right then and there.
After what felt like ten, twenty, thirty minutes (fifteen seconds), the sink shut off, a moment of silence, and the door creaked open again. Leon took his hand off your mouth and you both sighed deeply. While holding you still, Leon leaned back to look through the door to confirm you were alone once again.
“You were barely holding it together, I thought we were going to get caught.” He said on another thrust into you, bringing your faces closer once again. You swallowed hard, instinctively choking back moans now.
“Y-you… you were making it hard…” Gasps, again, as Leon was determined to make everything he asked of you difficult.
He brought himself closer into you, and spoke lowly. “Good,” With swift moves, his free hand was around your throat, holding your head back, and he was relentlessly bouncing you up and down on his cock.
The pressure around your throat and the pressure building in your core at his movements was all overwhelming, your hands were cutting crescents into his bicep from your nails, but he hardly took notice, he was so busy moving the both of you as well as keeping an eye on your face to watch how you were responding to his movements, he was too preoccupied.
The slick sounds coming from your pussy were evidence that the situation was much more of a stimulant than you ever expected, and the sound alone brought you so close to the edge.
“I bet you loved almost getting caught.” He groaned out, his movements stuttering, and you knew he must be close as well. “I bet it was driving you crazy, having to shut up while I gave it to you. You took it so well.” Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head, mouth open, you wouldn’t even be surprised if you were drooling at this point, Leon had all the power now.
“Leon,” You whispered, no energy for your full voice anymore. He understood.
“Take it, baby.” He thrust harder and harder, pressing you flat against the wall, the tip of his cock hitting all the deepest points. “I’m almost there, you feel so good.”
“Fuck, Leon,” If you could grasp any harder against his arms, you just did. “Fuck, I’m so close.”
“You got it, come on, cum for me.” He pressed his forehead into yours, grinding into you on the inward thrusts, making you fall apart in his arms. A few more thrusts, grinding a few more times, and a squeeze to your throat had you gasping in a silent scream around him, panting wildly letting your orgasm loose. 
He fucked you all the way through it. “Shit, that felt so good, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” You watched him as he chased his own, sweat beads dripping down his face, his hair coated in it. His hips stuttered one more time, and as he released his seed into you, he buried his face into your neck, whimpering and biting again. 
He pulled out of you, and it wasn’t missed by either of you the way his cum dripped out of you and onto the floor. You cracked a small smile when you heard him breathe a laugh.
“I’m sure that’s not the first time this bathroom has seen that.” He looked back up at you, breathing heavily, arms shaking from holding you up. You tapped his arms, hoping your legs were strong enough to stand on your own. He lowered you slowly, making sure you were stable before letting you go.
“I hope that’s what you wanted. I might have gotten ahead of myself.” He was still standing in front of you, neither of you made moves to leave the stall. You leaned against the wall for support.
“I would have stopped you a long time ago if it wasn’t, Leon.” He smiled down at you, breaths steadying out. He nodded his head.
“Coming to the house any time soon?”
You laughed out loud this time. “I’m sleeping over this weekend.” 
He smiled wider at the sound of your laugh. He leaned in and kissed you again. “Can’t wait.”
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cherrys-side-bitch · 10 months
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The Great 7 AU
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Note: This is only general headcanons, I'm definitely writing more for this AU later
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Since a young age, Yuu has had their parents (mostly Jafar and Grimhilde) teaching them how to act appropriately while also being taught fighting and magic. So, with that, Yuu would know how to keep a cool head in almost any situation, though it may be hard to keep a straight face with some of the seven’s comments.
Even though they have the power of the seven, they decide to play the role of the “magicless” prefect. I headcanon that, similarly to the actual game, the mirror said that Yuu didn't have magic since Yuu, by default, is just a random human and can't use magic without the seven’s aid. Though the mirror possibly hinted at The Great Seven being present, it was likely vague and quickly forgotten due to the absurdity of the situation.
Despite only arriving in this world from another, they’re incredibly knowledgeable about magic, potions, and even the history of this world. It's almost suspicious to the other students that some begin to think that their story of being from another world might be a lie even though they insist it isn't. Admittedly, though Yuu knows the history, they are still clueless about the laws and places of this word. Don't let them play geoguessr. They might die. Either that, or they’ll cry, then you have the Great 7 to deal with.
On the topic of the Great Seven, they don't have physical forms, only visible to Yuu and possibly other ghosts (Sam also probably knows due to the whole “friends on the other side” thing, but who knows). However, I believe they can still influence the world around Yuu through magic, even if only a little. An example may be that Yuu fell asleep on the couch after one of their nightly strolls with Malleus, and Maleficent draped a blanket over Yuu to keep them warm. Another is if Yuu is getting harassed by one of NRC’s bullies, one of the 7 pulls some horror movie shit and breaks the lights or starts throwing things: that or one of Maleficent's iconic storms.
Adding to what I said earlier about them acting, the idea of Great 7! Yuu snapping is terrifying. Even if they don't use magic or attack someone, it's still scary seeing that. The calm and collected persona falling, and you get to see their genuine emotions? Terrifying.
Just your average, cute, little “magicless” human acting all prim and proper, then displaying magical prowess that could surpass Malleus.
If I were those side character students, I’d leave, tbh.
┉ˏ͛ ༝̩̩̥͙ ⑅͚˚   ҉  ⑅͚˚ ͛༝̩̩̥͙ ˎ┉
Also, since you asked me to tag you, @twisted-wonderland-but-gayer 🥲
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honestly-mad-person · 3 months
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YOU'RE MY SECRET
。・:*˚:✧ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader
。・:*˚:✧ genre: smut (oral sex, vaginal sex, moans, orgasm, wet sounds, first sex)
。・:*˚:✧ word count: 7,7K (The biggest story, yeah)
。・:*˚:✧ a/n: When I was writing the story, I couldn't throw away the storyline of Chapter 8. How does he feel when he sees MC? Is he afraid of losing her again or will his unwavering love for her guide him through the stars so that your eyes can meet again?
In this story, I tried to describe the MC's inner feelings as if it were familiar to her. It's like it was there, but she can't remember. She'll never remember.
I want to answer MS's question about his experience on behalf of Xavier about his chastity:
"I imagined you many times, I imagined your body, and I studied a lot to fulfill the most intimate desires of your soul at the right time."
In a way, he was virginal. But next to you, he could not restrain his predatory nature.
This has nothing to do with the original character and is entirely my take on the situation.
Enjoy your reading! See ya next time!
The sun outside the window was already sinking below the horizon, filling the living room with a warm, golden color.
Looking at the cityscape, your gaze shifted to the blond haired boy sitting across from you at the table. There was a rustle and his fingers turned the page of the book. Silence reigned in the room again, broken only by barely audible breathing.
Looking at his face, as always serious, you were not thinking about your book, but about how attractive he is. His features seemed softer in the evening sunlight.
Xavier's eyes smoothly moved from one side of the page to the other, absorbing the text and occasionally they closed for a moment. Whenever this happened, his eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings.
Propping his head with his hand, he was constantly reading a book he had recently bought in a bookstore. You had one of his personal books from bookshelf.
The sight of him made the corners of your lips turn up. An outstanding young man. An experienced hunter. And part-time your boyfriend. However, there was something strange about him.
Somehow, you were watching a movie in the evening, cuddling. When your hand accidentally landed on his thigh, near his private area, he winced and looked down to tell you that your hand was not where it should be and asked him to remove it.
Confused, you looked at him. Up close, you could see how he shyly looked away, and the tips of his ears flashed a blush.
Suddenly, a thought flashed in your head. Did he have someone before you?
It would be awkward to ask him about it. Besides, he never told you everything directly. You should have asked him about what interested you in him, as Xavier immediately changed the subject.
Although you were officially a couple, there was nothing beyond kissing. Xavier never even kissed you deeply. Just sweet and innocent kisses on the lips.
Today, you wanted to know the truth. The truth that he tries so hard to hide from you.
In a moment you realize that his blue eyes are watching you. Coming back to reality, you blinked a few times.
— What? – asked Xavier, keeping his hand on the page he was just reading.
— What are you talking about? – you asked, not understanding the reason for this question.
— You… – he said quietly, drawing your gaze to his lips. – You’re looked at me...
— Indeed?
— Yes, – nodding his head, his lips barely parted. – Do I have something on my face?
— No, nothing like that, – you continued with a smile. – You just look even more beautiful in the evening light.
Hearing these words, Xavier looked away in embarrassment towards the window. He does it again. He tries not to look at you when you make him blush.
— Hey, Xav, – you called softly, tilting your head to the side.
— The sun is setting beautifully, – he said absently, without turning his head.
Looking at the horizon, you saw a really beautiful picture.
The sun was already half visible, and the sky surrounding it exploded with incredibly beautiful colors, iridescent from yellow-hot to purple. The clouds shone in the evening light, shimmering with a pearly sheen.
Suffocating at this beauty, you didn't immediately realize that you had fallen into another Xavier trap.
Mentally slapping yourself on the forehead, you turned your gaze back to him. Predictably, seizing the moment, he plunged back into his reading. It's tricky. Very clever.
— Xavier, – you said confidently, breaking the silence.
— Yes? – raising his head, he looked at you as if nothing had happened before.
— Tell me, do you have experience with women? – directly asking, you leaned towards him, placing your hands on the table. – And don't even think of running away from it.
— What do you mean by… – Xavier fell silent, looking into your eyes, fascinated by their beauty and brilliance.
— What I said, – was the answer immediately. – Have you kissed a woman for real?
Xavier was silent. His eyes slowly wandered over your face, sometimes going down, then going up. Soon, he spoke.
— Yes, with you – his look changed a little, but you couldn't understand what was wrong with him. – To be more precise, today at lunch and before going to the shopping center.
Stunned by this, you let out a heavy breath, forcing your eyebrows raised in surprise to fall back to their usual place.
— I'm not asking about myself, but in general, – clarifying, your gaze was fixed on him.
A shadow of embarrassment fell on his face and touching the tip of his nose with his fingers, he reluctantly answered.
— Not sure it happened to anyone but you…
— Not sure if it wasn't?
Under such pressure, Xavier looked away again. This time, not only his ears were red, but also his cheeks.
You got tired of this uncertainty, so you got up from the table, pushing your chair back.
A new noise caught Xavier's attention and he tensed up noticeably as he looked at you as you approached him. He mechanically pushed his chair back, sitting facing you.
— What?... – he didn't have enough time to finish his question, because the tips of your fingers touched his jaw, gently tracing the skin to his chin.
This small action made him lift his head and look into your eyes, which you could see the sunset in if you looked closely.
— Let's play a game, Xavier, – you said quietly, as if afraid that someone else might overhear your secret conversation. – The game is called "Don't look away."
— I don't like the name of this game anymore, – replied Xavier, feeling the warmth of your fingers and realizing that he won't be able to protect himself from you for long.
— Look into my eyes and don't look away, okay? – your fingers started moving again, releasing from his chin and barely touching his skin, moving down his neck, making him shudder briefly.
— What are you doing? – he said quietly, again visibly blushing.
His eyes continued to look into yours. A slight shiver went through your body at the realization of what exactly you wanted to do.
The tips of your fingers gently touched Xavier's neck and in the silence of the kitchen, in which there was still the smell of lemon cookies baked by you at the request of the owner of the apartment, you could clearly hear his uneven breathing.
Lowering your gaze, you looked at your fingers exploring every inch of his skin. Noticing that Xavier turned his head to the side, you sharply raised your eyes to his face.
— Xavier, I can look away and you can't, – you remarked, waiting for your eyes to meet again.
— I don't understand why you're doing this, – he asked quietly, clearing his throat.
You felt the vibration of each word with your fingers, shifting your gaze from his eyes to the fingers resting on his neck.
— I want to play with you, – you answered, continuing to move downwards, following your hands, which were kissing down from the neck to the chest.
You felt the soft fabric of his homemade sweater, which he didn't wear almost every day. Sometimes, you saw him wearing other clothes. You had some doubts if Xavier knew how to use a washing machine, but today you could smell the pleasant smell of air conditioner all day. It was hard not to keep from poking my nose into his chest and inhaling that magical smell of freshly washed clothes.
A heart beat under your fingers. It rattled a little faster than it should have, but you chalked it up to the closeness between you.
As your hands dropped below your chest, his hand grabbed your wrist. Looking up, you looked into his eyes.
Confused, he looked at you.
— Stop, – he said, still holding your hand.
— Xavier, – you said, bringing your face closer to his. – Don't move.
His eyes widened when you got close enough to barely touch his lips with yours. His weak breath touched your lips, fearing to somehow harm you.
Smirking the corner of your lips, you closed your eyes as you kissed him. Your wrist was squeezed tighter, but ignoring it, you touched the back of his neck with your other, free hand. A tremor was felt under your fingers. Your heart skipped a few beats and moaning softly against his lips, you pulled away from him, breaking the kiss.
Taking in Xavier's eyes, filled with confusion and curiosity, you smiled again.
— Do you want more? – you asked and received in response his silent nod of the head. – Then let go of my hand and sit tight, okay?
Your voice sounded gentle, as if you were asking your dog to obey your commands.
Fingers reluctantly parted, letting go of your wrist and placing his hands on his lap, Xavier continued to look into your eyes.
— Good boy, – you purred contentedly, connecting your lips again in a kiss.
Placing your hands around his neck, your fingers slowly trailed up her rear, causing another wave of shivers. Plunging them into your hair, you lightly squeezed it. From this, you felt a barely audible moan on your lips.
Your heart pounded in your chest again, causing the tips of your ears to light up.
This innocent, at first glance, reaction of Xavier caused you to have the dirtiest thoughts about him. The way you controlled him, the way he responded to your touch, all of it made the warmth of his stomach rise.
Unable to resist, your tongue defiantly ran between his lips, demanding that he let you inside.
Fidgeting, Xavier hesitated for a few seconds, but after your fingers tightened on his hair, he obediently let you pass.
A moan of pleasure echoed through the kitchen and you weren't sure which one of you had created it.
Your tongue explored new territory, teasing with his tongue. Xavier didn't respond to your actions, giving you the upper hand in this little game. It made you even more convinced that he was a virgin. Soon, you felt a weak and unsure response from him.
Surprised, you broke the kiss and pulled away from him, breathing heavily.
— Did I… do something wrong? – he asked innocently, looking into your eyes.
When Xavier returned your kiss, you felt the air in your chest suddenly run out and you felt a little dizzy.
Looking down at his hands, which were clenched into fists, you felt dizzy again. For unknown reasons, you wanted to touch them, so that they would gently caress your cheeks, neck, chest, stomach, and even in your mind you imagined these fingers buried deep inside you.
Your body responded to such thoughts with an appropriate reaction. Blushing, you looked up at Xavier and looking into his eyes, you felt your underwear getting wet.
— Oh, you're blushing, – he remarked in his voice, still looking at you.
— It's hot, that's all, – dismissing his words, you were about to remove your hands, until suddenly he grabbed your wrist again.
Looking at him with a dumb question, you watched as he pressed your palm to his cheek, staring at you.
— Please don't go, – he whispered softly, rubbing against your hand, holding it gently with his hand. – Did I do something wrong?
Your brain shut down. Xavier looked at you with the same "puppy" look. Mixed with your lewd thoughts about him and the way he was gently rubbing his cheek against your hand, it made you freeze in place, not giving you a chance to resist such critical damage.
There was a sharp sting in your chest and you, red as a tomato, pulled out your hand, pressing it to your chest.
— Xavier, you! – suffocating from his mercy and the shame of your thoughts, you continued to mumble something incoherent. – Bamn…
Xavier just tilted his head to the side, looking sadly at you, still holding his hand where your hand was for a few seconds.
After giving you some time to cool down, Xavier reached out a hand in your direction, not daring to touch you.
You looked at his fingers, then at his face. He wasn't looking at you anymore. His gaze, filled with sadness and pity, was fixed on his outstretched hand, which seemed to be trying to grasp something in the air.
Your heart throbbed again and, exhaling, you took his hand. He suddenly looked up, looking into your eyes.
— Just a little more, – you said and, approaching him, stood between his legs, wrapping your arms around his neck.
His head was at the level of your stomach. Still hesitant, he gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his cheek against yours.
With a smile on the corner of your lips, your fingers gently scratched his head, going through his hair, while your gaze was directed at the already faded sky.
— I'm sorry if I did something wrong, – Xavier suddenly muttered, pulling you away from the view.
— No, you didn't do anything wrong, – you immediately assured, blushing again at your own thoughts.
A few more kisses like that and you could really pounce on him as if you were hungry for a plate of hot and delicious food.
You were drawn to him like a magnet and it was difficult for you to resist this force. You understood this best when Xavier returned your kiss.
— Then why did you stop touching me? – he asked again in his innocent voice.
It made you shudder. Fingers froze.
— Well, it's hard to say... – trying to find words, you mumbled under your breath. – Well...
— I want more, – came to your ears as Xavier's hands fell on your thighs and gently, but firmly, sat you on his knee.
Squealing, you looked into his eyes and wanted to pour him a whole wagon and a small bucket of outrage about this, but when you met his gaze, you froze. He seemed normal, but something was still wrong.
You saw in his eyes a vague reflection of yourself in the evening rays. The longer you looked, the stronger the attraction to him became. His eyes, like a black hole, pulled you deeper and deeper.
You were pulled out of this trance by his hand, which touched your burning cheek.
— You're looking at me like that again… – Xavier said in a quiet and calm voice.
— H-how? – you asked, touching his palm with your fingers.
— As if there is something on my face, – shrugging his shoulders, he gently stroked his cheek with his thumb. – So… are you going to continue your game or not?
Biting your lip, you felt your face flush again.
— Why do you blush so often? – asked Xavier, looking into your face.
— It's not as important as the fact that… – you paused and exhaled, relaxing. - I don't want to play anymore...
Your words madeXavier freeze. Even his stroking stopped. He looked into your eyes silently.
— I don't want to play with you, I want to kiss you again, – clarifying, your palms touched his face and your lips quickly found what they needed so much. Its warmth.
The last line of defense was destroyed. What you had planned as a scouting mission to get information turned into the fact that you couldn't tear yourself away from his lips.
They seemed so familiar, so warm and welcome that it was really hard to stop even for a second.
Xavier pushed you away ever so slightly, but still gently, occasionally breaking the kiss to give the two of you a chance to take a few gulps of fresh air before your lips pressed together again.
Losing your head from the desire this boy was awakening in your body, you melted every time your tongues intertwined in a passionate dance. He absorbed you, absorbed like a black hole absorbs light, without letting it out.
The only thing you longed for, what you reached for at this moment, was Xavier. His lips, so hot from many kisses, his tongue, which was already confidently responding to you, his hands, which hugged you with a firm grip, pressing you to him.
Your knee touched his groin and moaning into his lips, you felt that you weren't the only one turned on. Breaking away from him with difficulty, you looked at his face, stained with blush. You were both breathing heavily as you looked at each other. Xavier didn't move, as if he was afraid that you would run away if he made even one move.
Your hand rested on his chest and slid down. Looking into your eyes, Xavier barely furrowed his brows, still breathing heavily.
— What are you... – he didn't have time to finish the sentence, as a moan that broke from his lips resounded in the room. – Damn…
His eyebrows came together at the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, he leaned towards you, resting his head on your shoulder. Your other hand rested on his back, stroking his spine with the tips of your fingers. You heard a muffled moan again as your other hand traced his cock through the fabric of his house pants. What you felt confused you a little. You didn't expect that Xavier would turn out to be… a little bigger than you imagined.
You tried to imagine him in your mouth, you thought about whether he would at least enter.
You were pulled out of your thoughts by another moan and an arm wrapping around your waist, digging his fingers firmly into your side. Taking a deep breath, you felt dizzy and tinnitus again. Tomorrow you will definitely find bruises from his fingers on your body.
— Xavier, – you whispered into his ear, as if he were a child seeking refuge on his mother's chest. – Do you hear me, Xavier?
— Mgh… – he groaned, barely nodding his head.
— Relax, – your lips touched his ear, sending shivers down his body.
It even seemed to you that this tremor was heard below as well, as if his member also twitched at the signal of the body.
— Please, – he whispered hoarsely, not taking his eyes off you. – Don’t go…
Something about his words made you wince. Why did he ask you not to go? Why did he say that? Did you give him any reason to think that? Was it something else? Blinking, you couldn't clearly define the reason that could cause these words. Your lips touched his temple, giving him the softest kiss full of love.
— I won't go anywhere from you, – you answered, feeling how tightly he gripped your waist. – I will always be with you.
He flinched at your words. You stopped, still keeping your hand on his already wet pants from the pre-ejaculate.
His head slowly lifted from your shoulder. Meeting his eyes, you felt your heart freeze. You saw longing, fear and need in his eyes.
— What... – not being able to say anything else, you felt an extremely strong desire to comfort him.
Your lips met his again, when you were about to remove your hand from his erection, until suddenly, he stopped you from doing so, placing his hand on yours.
Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead against yours, touching the tips of his nose.
— Please… – he whispered, barely shaking his head.
You lost your mind not only at his physical proximity, but also at how defenseless he seemed.
— Xavier, – you whimpered softly, pressing your forehead against his.
No matter how much you wanted it, but gently pushing him away from you with your free hand, you looked into his eyes.
— Let me go, – you asked, looking at your waist. – I won't go anywhere, I promise.
Xavier put a lot of effort into letting you go. His brows came together again at the bridge of his nose as his fingers parted, giving you your freedom. His eyes were locked on you as you rose from his lap.
Xavier looked as if he was ready to rush after you at that very second if you suddenly disappeared from his life. You had rarely seen him so tense and it broke your heart.
Slowly kneeling down in front of him, you placed your hands on his hips.
— Everything is fine, you have nothing to worry about, – stroking him, you felt how his left leg twitched.
— You… – Xavier whispered, touching your shock with his fingers. – You don't need to do this...
— Shh, – drawing sharply, you rubbed against his arm, running your fingers up his thighs. 
Groaning, Xavier covered his eyes. His hand barely felt as your fingers caught on the elastic of your pants.
— Xavier, – you just said his name, when suddenly he lowered himself a little lower, for your convenience.
Smirking the corner of your lips, you pulled at the elastic, pulling Xavier's house pants down. Underneath them you saw dark blue boxers, in which his excited member was clearly visible with a wet stain on them.
Your lips touched his shaft through the fabric. Xavier groaned again, breathing heavily.
You understood that he wanted it. I wanted you to take it sooner. I wanted to be in you faster. Fill you with myself. Cling to your body and never let go. And it made you happy. Be glad that your desires were mutual.
Pulling off his underwear, his slender member was in front of your eyes, barely twitching with excitement. A transparent pearl of pre-ejaculatory substance was visible on the head. Having examined him completely, you saw a vein that swelled like a snake on him. Your insides groaned with desire and wasting no time, you took yours. The tip of the tongue passed over the vein.
Xavier's moans echoed throughout the kitchen as you held his base with your fingers and sucked his hot cock into your mouth.
— God, yes.. yes.. S-so hot.. – he moaned, throwing his head back every time his cock was fully inside, brushing the tip of your throat. - P-please, please, don't stop...
You didn't plan to stop. You wanted everything he could give you. Everything, to the last drop. You will suck everything out of him.
You felt how his cock, pulsating, rubbed against your tongue and stopped somewhere in your throat. Suppressing the tears that rolled into your eyes, you with even greater efforts did everything to bring Xavier maximum pleasure.
The wet sounds from each plunge of his cock into your mouth merged with Xavier's moans and echoed off the walls, dissolving into the air.
— Oh fuck… – Xavier whined, running his fingers through your hair. – D-don't stop... Please... please, I… I need to… please..
His whimpers and moans made you flow harder, harder as the head of his cock slid into your mouth. His fingers gripped your hair tighter, helping you move your head.
— Please… – Xavier kept whining, moving his hips to meet you.
You were no less crazy from his actions than he was from yours. Your swollen lips slid over his shaft, sucking more and more. You gave him what he wanted and you liked it.
— Fuck, p-princess, – Xavier threw his head back with a trembling voice. - I so want... to cum…
In the mix of the wet smacking of your lips against his cock, you opened your eyes wide, looking at him with a look of complete debauchery. Your mouth began to work even faster until your fingers, forming a ring, moved from below, from his base up, until they met your lips.
You swallowed his cock like your life depended on it. You desperately needed to get his cum. You needed her.
— P-princess! – Xavier whined, trembling under your lips like an autumn leaf in the wind. – Wait! Stop, please!
Ignoring his pleas, you looked up at him, the way his eyes rolled in pleasure and the way he tried to push you away from him.
Your hands rested on his hips as your lips pressed into a ring around his cock. The tip of your nose touched his groin every time you swallowed.
— Please, please, stop, I.. I'm coming soon, – Xavier begged you to stop, unable to watch the way you ate him down below.
In response, you tightened your fingers around his pants, pressing your entire tongue against his length, enveloping him in the warmth of your wet mouth.
Gritting his teeth, Xavier tried to keep himself from letting his cum down your throat. You both fought. He was fighting not to cum, but you demanded it from him.
Your mouth, your throat, your tongue, which so kindly received his cock, did not give him a chance. In the process of another absorption, his hips twitched and made a movement to meet your mouth.
Xavier let out a soft whimper and you felt the hot cum rush down your throat. After swallowing some of the liquid, tears welled up in your eyes. Too deep, too much. But you accepted him. Taking every drop he gave you, flooding your throat and mouth with his cum.
Feeling him twitch inside you, you slowly let him out of your mouth, squeezing the shaft and head with your lips one last time.
Looking up, you saw Xavier leaning back in his chair, breathing heavily. His fingers still gripped the edge of the table as his other hand covered his face.
You felt the remains of the sticky sperm on your tongue and swallowed it along with the saliva, licking your lips.
— Xavier? – quietly speaking his name, you stroked his thighs, but he did not answer you. – Did you fall asleep?
Giggling, you got up from your knees and were about to touch his hand with yours, until suddenly he grabbed your hand first.
With a quick movement of his free hand, Xavier dropped everything on the table to the floor. There was the sound of falling books and the clink of a broken plate of lemon cookies.
You didn't have time to look at the mess Xavier had made from putting you on the table like you were a rag doll. The table creaked piteously as the hi's hands rested on its surface. Immediately, he pressed his hips against you as if he had always been between your legs.
— Let me show you how I can work… – he whispered, his lips falling on your neck.
This time, your sonorous moans filled the room as his lips left small, burgundy kiss marks and teeth marks on you again and again. As if mad, he bit your skin, licked it with his tongue and then bit again. Arching your back from his every movement, you felt how he lit a real fire in the bottom of your stomach.
His hand crawled under your shirt and went up to find your breast.
You moaned even louder as fingers pinched your nipple, playing with it.
— Xavier! – with a voice hoarse from excitement, you bent over to meet him.
His hands pulled your shirt up and leaving your neck alone, his lips kissed your breasts, squeezing them with his fingers. Xavier moaned softly in unison with you as his lips covered one nipple then the other. The hot tip of his tongue caressed the tip, sucking it into his mouth.
Throwing your head back, you whimpered, not knowing where to put your hands. The feel of him squeezing your breasts, biting them, made your body squirm beneath him.
His lips left new marks on your skin as they trailed down.
— Why do you look at me so often with your eyes... – he rasped, running his entire tongue from that navel up to the stomach, looking at you with eyes full of desire.
Breathing heavily, you barely felt any movement from Xavier, giving you some time to rest. Your breasts, swollen and covered with traces of his kisses, rose up from the accelerated breathing and shook from a strong heartbeat.
Xavier waited patiently for an answer as he moved up to your face, looking at your red hot face, eyes closed, lashes fluttering and lips swollen from the kisses and what you had done to him a few minutes ago.
— You hear me? – Xavier rasped, leaning down to your lips, barely touching them.
— Ahhh.… – you moaned without opening your eyes and reached for a kiss, until suddenly he pulled away from you. – What?...
When your eyelashes fluttered again and you opened your eyes, you met his gaze with his extremely beautiful blue eyes.
— Why do you keep looking at me with that look of yours? – he repeated his question, running his hand over your cheek.
— What look? – your voice also sounded hoarse, but it didn't bother you much.
— A look like… – Xavier held back the growing desire in himself, which could be seen by the emotion his face was now expressing.
Furrowing his brows, he shook his head as if remembering your eyes at that moment. Licking his lips with the tip of his tongue, he looked at you with a faint smile at the corners of his lips.
— You look at me like I'm your dog, – he said, pressing himself against your crotch.
Your eyes widened as you felt his cock turn to hard again, rubbing against you.
Xavier was leaning against the table, barely breathing as he stared into your eyes as his hips moved on their own. Throwing your head back, you closed your eyes, moaning softly.
— Xavier, I didn't… – you started searching for words to excuse yourself, but feeling fingers on your cheek, you opened your eyes, looking up at him.
— If that's what you want, I'll be your dog, – he said, confidently maintaining eye contact. – I will.
Your heart froze for a second when the meaning of what was said came to your mind. Your body, excited by his touch, stretched like a string.
— I'll be your dog, – Xavier repeated in your ear, pressing his body against you.
The table creaked pitifully again as his hips began to slowly rub against you as his hot breath burned your ear.
— X-xavier… – you begged, shaking under his weight.
— Do you want me to bark for you? – he whispered with a hint of fun in his voice. - Woof, woof…
— Stop, please… Ah… – his hip movements became faster, making you whimper even more at the feeling of his cock rubbing against you through the fabric of your pants.
— Princess… – Xavier whispered, pulling away from you and looking into your eyes that clearly read an uncontrollable, raging desire, he moaned softly, narrowing his eyes. 
In your thoughts, you really compared Xavier to a puppy. You took care of him, fed him and stroked him when needed. Now, there was nothing in him that combined him with that Xavier - sweet, shy and funny.
From one look at him, you felt how every cell of your body burned, how your womb wanted him inside, how your lips wanted his lips, how your body wanted to be pressed by his body, you felt how you needed Xavier.
Xavier, who one moment is looking at you in confusion at your next stupidity, and the next he's caressing your breasts with his tongue.
Almost crying with excitement, you nodded your head.
- Good! Xavier, I beg you, please, – you begged, arching your back and feeling his arousal below.
— Then let me satisfy you in a way that only I can, – his voice sounded in your ear and after kissing the corner of your lips, he lowered himself down.
Biting the tip of your finger, you lifted your head as you watched as Xavier trailed a wet trail of kisses down your body.
He stirred your butterflies even more when his lips stopped below the waistband of your pants. Looking up at you, he unbuttoned first the button and then the zipper, pulling the tab down. His hands carefully pulled your pants off your thighs, leaving you in your panties.
Feeling the fabric slide down your ankles, you bucked your hips shyly. Seeing this, Xavier gave you a surprised look, but without saying anything, he leaned into your stomach. Lips gently touched the skin, causing goosebumps.
Hitting your head on the table, you felt the heat from his lips. His hands touched your thighs and after stroking the tender skin, his fingers tightened.
A moan escaped your lips as Xavier jerked you closer to him, to the edge of the table which creaked once again. His gentle stroking made you feel more comfortable and without realizing it, you relaxed.
— Good girl, – Xavier whispered, his nose touching the fabric of your panties before pulling them off you. – I'm going crazy from your smell...
— Stop it… – you whispered, ashamed of his words.
He just giggled at your response.
The cold air touched your skin as Xavier carefully removed your panties and dropped them on the floor. Kneeling in front of you, he let out a stifled moan, inspecting your lust-soaked pussy.
— I want… – he said, wrapping his arms around your hips and pressing his lips to yours.
As if you were electrocuted, you bent over, groaning. Feeling his tongue moving between your folds, touching your clit, you lost the ability to breathe.
His tongue moved slowly, mixing your juices with his saliva. When his tip hit your clit, he lingered on it, pressing lightly. Your body responded to Xavier's caresses with even stronger tremors. His arms draped your legs over his shoulders, gripping your trembling hips.
Licking every millimeter of your pussy, he reveled in your moans that erupted from the depths of your chest. He tormented you with his rhythm, making your back arch every time his tongue touched your clit. Moaning from the pleasure he was bringing you, his tongue circled around the pearl for his lips to gently suck your clit.
— God, Xavier, please… – breathless and feeling dizzy, you grabbed his hair, squeezing your hips. – So good... Ah, please... Faster...
Your whining mixed with the wet sounds and spread throughout the kitchen. His fingers tightened on her hips and he obediently sped up, moving his tongue. Your eyes sparkled with pleasure. Holding him to you with trembling hands, you felt that you were already on the verge.
— Xavier, nghh… Yes, so good! Don’t... ah.. Don’t stop... – you fell silent, arching from the sharp shock of the current throughout your body, which started from the bottom of your stomach and spread throughout your body.
Your entire consciousness has been compressed to a single point. To the point below, which your sweet dog licked mercilessly with his tongue. A wave of shivers slowly rolled over you. Your body shook, your thighs squeezing Xavier's head in orgasm, threatening to crush him. Hitting your head on the table again, you sobbed, feeling that Xavier didn't think to stop there.
Letting go of his hair, you tried to somehow crawl away from him, but his firm grip on your hips prevented you from doing so.
— Stop, – you begged quietly, shaking from his tongue, still absorbed in the orgasm.
Squirming on the table, tears of pleasure fell from your eyes and it wasn't until you sobbed that Xavier stopped. His tongue trailed over your entrance, oozing your pleasure. He collected every drop, leaving nothing behind. You could feel his tongue inside as he moved inside you and losing the ability to breathe, you clenched your teeth.
— Yummy, – Xavier said, pulling away from you.
Barely finding the strength to raise your head to look at him, you clenched your whole body. With his usual calm expression on his face, he licked his lips with the tip of his tongue, wiping his wet chin with his fingers before licking the remains of your orgasm off of them.
Throwing your head back, your gaze went to the ceiling. You felt exhausted. Your head was spinning with pleasure, your heart was pounding wildly, and your body still sometimes shuddered. There was a rustle and Xavier's face appeared in your field of vision.
You moaned as you felt his cock brush against your pubic bone, his lips falling to your neck again.
— Xav… – you begged hoarsely and quietly, slowly regaining control over your body.
— Yes? – he mumbled, hiding in the crook of your neck.
— I... I want you… – you said, wrapping your weak arms around his neck, pressing him to your chest. – Please…
You felt him tense under your hands. Moaning softly, he pressed against your body for a while longer, inhaling your scent. Pulling back, he slipped out of your arms and looked into your eyes.
— You… are you sure? – he asked, swallowing loudly.
You nodded and looked down, touching his neck with your fingers, smiling gently.
— I want to belong to you not only with my heart, but also with my body, – looking into his wide-open eyes again, you smiled even wider. – I want to give you everything I have: my thoughts, my love, my body, my desires, my pleasure, my life...
He shuddered at the last words. His look changed. It became darker. You looked again into the black hole that swallowed you.
— Say it… – he whispered, looking into your eyes. – Say it again... Please...
— I want to give you everything, – you repeated, holding back your laughter. – From my thoughts to my life. It's all just for you.
His lips pressed greedily into yours. The salty taste of your orgasm made your head spin again. You went crazy with the realization of how hard he worked to make you cum and the heat spread again in the lower part of your stomach.
Xavier's tongue immediately entered your mouth, taking complete control of the kiss, causing you to moan into his lips. You began to gasp, unable to fight his onslaught. Your hands touched his neck, shoulders and went down to his chest, reaching his cock.
You heard a moan as your fingers brushed against his shaft as your hips desperately tried to get into a position to drive him into your lap, but without Xavier's help you were having no luck.
After breaking the kiss, he barely touched your lips with his for some time, breathing heavily.
— Xavier, please.. move, – you whispered, almost whining against his lips.
Without answering, he moved his hips away from you, allowing you to direct him. Your heart pounded as the head of his cock thrust into your passage.
— Please, – you begged again as Xavier looked into your eyes, increasing the distance between your faces.
— I won't be able to stop, – he muttered, blushing.
— I don't want you to stop, – you shook your head sharply, taking his face in your hands. – You have to make me yours, remember?
A light flashed in his eyes and moving one hand to the edge of the table, above your head, he supported his cock with the other, penetrating you. Your womb met his hot and wet, making you both gasp at the sensation.
Leaning towards you, you touched your foreheads to each other and closed your eyes, enjoying the merger. Your hands were still holding his face as his cock slowly stretched you from the inside, filling you up.
— Xavier… – you whispered, feeling your walls squeeze his throbbing length inside you.
— Oh... fuck.. it's so tight inside you, – he whimpered and, letting go of his cock, let him enter the end on his own, putting his hand on your waist.
In those brief seconds, you felt as if the whole world had disappeared, leaving the two of you alone. Nothing but him inside you. When his head touched your cervix, you finally let out a moan of pleasure. At first, you were uncomfortable with his size, and knowing that, Xavier made a frantic effort not to thrust into you immediately. Even with a blinding desire for you, he still cares about your comfort.
— How do you feel? – he rasped, raising his head and looking into your eyes.
You took a short breath, nodding your head. Moving your arms around his neck, you pulled Xavier closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist. His nose nuzzled into the crook of her neck and his hips began to move slowly. Your soft moans blended together as Xavier pressed his body against you, bumping into your cervix.
Scratching his neck with your nails, you enjoyed every second of him being inside you. Your bodies were tightly connected inside. Your walls wrapped around his throbbing cock, making you hear his heavy breathing against your neck mixed with whimpers.
— It's so tight, – Xavier whispered, wrapping his arm around your waist. – I can't... think...
Your hips moved to meet his, urging him to speed up.
— Xav... faster... – closing your eyes, you restrained your moans to say these words and soon, you felt the friction become more intense.
— I won't stop, – he said, obediently complying with your request.
Your body arched beneath him every time his full cock disappeared into your womb. The sounds of bodies slapping against each other, the creaking of the table and your babble were music to your ears.
With each thrust, heat engulfed your body. It was becoming difficult to breathe, the head was spinning more and more, and the skin was slowly covered with a thin layer of sweat. Suddenly, Xavier was out of your arms and towering over you, he threw your legs over his shoulders, keeping your hips in the air.
You moaned loudly. when the cock was thrusting into you from a new angle. Grabbing the edge of the table with your hands, you looked into Xavier's eyes. In them you saw his darkest desires, his need for you. Each of his thrusts was accompanied by the creaking of the table. His gaze wandered lustily over your body, lingering on your bouncy breasts, which teased him with their appetizingness, decorated with crimson marks, went down to your waist, which also showed bruises from his hands, and finally, his gaze caught the small bulge at the bottom of your stomach , which appeared every time he penetrated you to the end.
— My princess, – he moaned, looking into your eyes again and squeezing your hips tighter. – I love you, I love you, I love you unconditionally.
Barely understanding what he was saying, you looked at him with a clouded look of pleasure, wanting to press into him again. Sobbing in pleasure, you reached out one of your hands to him, choking on scarlet moans.
— Please... I want... – whining, you once again pushed him on this table. – I need...
Releasing your hips without slowing his pace, he leaned into you, letting your hands grip his neck. Your lips met in a kiss again, exchanging saliva.
Your bodies were sticky with sweat, but that didn't stop Xavier from pounding into you faster and faster. You weren't worried about whether or not you'd be able to walk tomorrow, just like Xavier didn't doubt that he'd be carrying you in his arms all day. A wild desire took hold of your minds, causing your bodies to move in a frenzied rhythm of love.
Xavier drove his cock into you, wet with your juices, slapping his balls against your ass, met the obstacle in the form of the cervix and returned with a low growl to repeat the same actions. Slipping his hand between your heated bodies, he touched your clit. Almost crying with pleasure, you scratched his neck, shoulders and back, not knowing where to go. The air in your lungs was running out as fast as he was fucking your cunt. Your vision became blurry, everything was spinning and the only thing you felt was the near end.
Xavier's voice was whispering something in your ear, but it was hard to make out. Grabbing air with your mouth, you felt as if a little more, a few more thrusts and your body would collapse under his onslaught.
— Xavier, – you whined hoarsely under him, feeling extremely dizzy. – Nghh...
Your brain short-circuited and your body was covered by an explosion. Arching in the back, you squeezed your whole body. Clinging to Xavier with your limbs, you didn't give him a chance. Cursing in your ear, he tried to hold on, but your walls squeezed him too hard. He crashed into your thighs, plunging deep into you and finished with a loud moan, flooding you with hot cum. His hips gave a few thrusts as if he was trying to push as much of his family into you as possible.
Your body was shaking with orgasm, but your grip on Xavier slowly loosened. Soon, as your consciousness returned to reality, hot streams of tears flowed from your eyes.
Hearing your soft sobs, Xavier jerked up, still buried deep inside you. Confusion and excitement were reflected on his sweat-dampened face.
— Princess, – he asked in a husky voice and, clearing his throat, took your face in his hands. – Why are you crying? Are you hurt? What happened?
You looked up at him with a smile, feeling his fingers wipe the tears from your red cheeks. You couldn't answer now. Shaking your head negatively, you looked into his eyes. Panic and incomprehension grew in his gaze, which almost made you cry even harder.
Clenching his teeth, he pressed himself against your body, touching his lips to your shoulder.
— I'm here, – he whispered, feeling how you occasionally squeezed him in you. – I’ll always be with you.
— Xav...
You took a deep breath, trying to calm your feelings, and wrapped your weakened arms around his neck.
— Yes, princess? – he answered, pressing closer.
— So you weren't a virgin? – you whispered hoarsely, gently stroking his back.
He noticeably raised his head and looked into your eyes.
You thought I was... - his eyebrows went up in surprise. - Why?
— We just had sex for the first time... in our relationship.
— I've been saving this moment for a better time, because you deserve the best first time, – his voice was muffled and his breath burned your neck. – But you decided to rush this moment. 
He laughed and poked himself in your neck again. 
— Okay, but, – you stopped stroking him after a moment. – If you're not a virgin, and you said you had no one before me, then…
You felt Xavier relax against you. The table cracked under your weight and you groaned in indignation, but you couldn't stay angry with him for long. 
— Did you fall asleep? – you shook your head and hugged him tighter, deciding that five minutes wasn't that long. 
 When he wakes up, he will take you to bed and clean up the mess he had made. Just 5 minutes.
— I'll never let you go, – Xavier said in a sleepy voice. – It doesn't matter where you go, how far you will be, I will always find you.
— Pretender…
— No way…
333 notes · View notes
eydi-andrius · 11 months
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Clear Lilac Eyes (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)
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summary: Aemond had bowed and prayed, something he had never done before no matter how hard his life had been.
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cw/tw: fluff, a bit of angst and hurt, aemond is a good husband, a dad and a king, childbirth, blood, implied war, patriarchy, threats, mentions of violence, threats and tags are not exhausted. Let me know if I miss anything
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a/n: Wrote this as an alternate ending for Don't Get Sad, Get Even but I thought it was too positive so I wrote it as a standalone.
Also, I posted this as a celebration as my blog turned THREE (3) today! YAY! 🎉🥳 Mannnnn, I used to be a lurker on this app then I started craving for my whatifs then wrote them. To celebrate, I will post for all the characters I have written so far and it includes this one. And maybe I have something in store for the others. 👀 A much awaited comeback hehehehehe if you have any request, you may send me an ask! 🥰 I may write them. 👀 Anyway, without further ado, ENJOY!
Likes and reblogs are welcome!
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There was an air of uneasiness that chokes out the life of those who breathe it in. The flicker of fire from the torches and the quiet of the hallways made an eerie atmosphere in the Red Keep. 
The shadows, the footfalls and the swish of clothings intensifies the feeling of distress in every mortal present at the birth of the King's child. 
This was an important event for the realm as this child may become the first heir to this new era of dragons. 
All the dragon-blood and silver-haired were almost wiped during the dance of dragons which happened for only a year.
Except for one. 
With his wit and strategy, Aemond Targaryen was able to win the war and was crowned king.
He was vicious and no one could deny him of his throne. Once the swords were down and the white flags were raised, all heads bowed to him.
However, right now, the King's head was bowed to only one, the Mother. The Goddess of Birth. 
While the realm was weary for his heir, he was scared to lose the love of his life.  
She had always expressed her fear of giving birth. When they were young, she had said to him that if she had a choice, she would rather not give birth. During that time, he thought it was silly. No one can run from their purpose. Especially her, whose sole purpose was to continue her family's lineage. She was a noble and a girl. There was no way for her to continue life without giving birth. 
Another blood curdling scream broke from her inside the room. It was loud. Terrifyingly loud. His gut twisted in fear. He had promised her not to enter the chambers while she gives birth but something was egging him on to force his way inside and to stay by her side. 
The room was filled with the familiar sweet metallic scent of blood. He had grown accustomed to it on the battlefield and never once the sight repulsed him. However, the white sheets and the white clothes worn by the maester and midwives were all covered in blood. Her blood. There was too much blood around her. The sickening feeling swirling inside of him tore new fear as he rushed forward and watched her delicate face, pale and deathly. Her lips dry and her hands cold to the tips. 
"My Lady wife, look at me, my dear. I beg of you " He watched her closely as her eyes fluttered softly at the sound of his voice. She looked at him and tried her best to give a smile but the look of it made him regret forcing her to go through the pain of giving birth. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him before it closed with a deep sigh. He squeezed her cold hands with worry - he prayed that the Mother will show his wife mercy, as she did to all the mothers who had gone through similar pain.
A tiny scream of life caught his attention. He looked behind him and there it was, his child. He never saw that she had finally given birth and was blinded with worry as he rushed in. His small bundle of joy was wrapped in the familiar green and gold linen his mother used for him when he was born. His pride and joy finally came and his heart was filled with unfamiliar warmth. He had never felt like this before.
Without removing his hand that held his wife, he asked the maester to help him place his little dragon on his free arm. The silver protruding hairs on his head had proven he was his child. He looks so small, so full of life as it cries and he shushes him. He had never felt more at ease as he was surrounded with his family. The family he chooses and who chooses him. His love for them runs deeply and he could never express how grateful he was for them.
"It is a girl." The sound of the maester's voice brought him back to where he was sitting and he looked at him. The maester's face did not hide his disappointment but he will forgive him for now.
A girl? 
A smile broke through him and he apologized inside his head to his daughter as he called her wrong. With a gesture of love, he placed his nose on top of hers and his heart was full as he heard her stop crying and coo at him.
He was overfilled with happiness. It feels like nothing could go wrong. 
However, his joy was short-lived when he felt his wife's hand loosen its grip to his. He had now realized her palm was colder, almost like ice. His head whipped in her direction and he saw the familiar feeling of impending death. 
No. Please. Not her either.
The wrong feeling in his gut came back again and he ordered the maester to help his wife. They rushed forward and he stepped back as he cradled the child, who was now peacefully sleeping on his arm. She must have been tired as she forced her way out to this world. She was so innocent and pure that she did not realize the terror that was eating away at his father's core.
He had watched them closely as they tried their best to bring his lady wife back to life. She looks so small, and fragile. He was afraid that they would break her as they moved back and forth to revive her.
The wet nurse of his child had asked and begged him to go out but he refused to do so and did not leave the room until the maester had told him that his wife was safe from harm. No one could tell when she would wake up but he was relieved that she could recover now.
At last, he had entrusted his child to her caretaker and asked the others to leave them be. Him alone with his wife. He waited for the sound of the door closing, before he broke down. With shaking limbs and eyes blurry with tears, he cried and kissed her hand.
He apologized for what he had put her through. He apologized for what she had to witness. 
He apologized for exposing her to violence. 
He apologized and apologized until there wasn't anything he could say to her. 
If the life of his wife would be the retribution for his sins then he would never forgive himself. 
That night, on his knees, he prayed and prayed for her to get better until there were no words he could utter to the Mother.
💚
Three days had passed and she was still asleep. He had smiled at her sleeping form as he recalled his interaction he had with his daughter. She was fussy and loud, just like her mother. He knew she would grow up with her mother's tenacity and boldness. 
Ignoring her pale face and thin body, he bit the inside of his cheek and continued his story. This was worse than war. Sitting beside her and watching as she fights for her life. Waiting and not being able to help her. He hoped that his stories would make her feel strong. 
He never liked the idea of her missing the growth of their child. He knew her better and this will make her sad. She had expressed that she had always wished for her mother to see her grow when she was young but she died too early for her to even remember her face, which people had claimed that they looked quite a lot like each others'.
He could never deny that there is no moment that he never missed her. Every inch and corner of Red Keep reminds him of her. Half of his life was him being with her. He wanted each and every waking moment of his was to be with her.
Swallowing his selfishness and pride, again, he prayed for her to get well and wake up soon. He bargained to all of the Gods that he will do anything and pay for it in his power to make it come true. 
💚
The council room was obnoxiously loud. He watched them quietly like a hunter, staring down its prey.
If he had the choice, he would be with his daughter and wife. But alas, he had to create a strong foundation for this new nation for his lovely daughter. He had to muster all the patience he had to stay still and listen to them. 
After the discussion about the trade and economy, suddenly, all the old men present looked at him warily. Even without them uttering a word, he knew what they would tell him. 
A searing hot anger rises through him but he feels calm. Calm enough to not hesitate to stab and kill with ease, just like what he did during the war. Or maybe he could ask Vhagar to bite them off in half or burn them alive. 
"Congratulations on having a girl, your grace. How was she?" He forgot that man's name but he believed the one who first opened his mouth was a Baratheon. 
"My girl was doing well." He replied curt and short. 
He saw how some of the men gulped in nervousness at the sound of his voice. He intended for them to feel the venom and challenge them to continue so he can cut their tongue. They looked nervous and fear was all over their features. Only Larys and Cregan, looked somewhat calm and remained quiet. 
"We're happy to h-hear that." The Baratheon continued with eyes wandering around his allies, like a helpless sheep waiting to be slaughtered. Aemond moved back and leaned on his chair, he wanted to see them all on a better view. He lay his head to his hand as he stared them down.
The silence was loud as everyone stayed seated and waited for each other. No one dares to. They were afraid. Aemond, the King, was ruthless. They knew bloodshed would be inevitable if they opened their mouths to speak about the dying Queen and the King having no heir after she gave birth to a daughter. 
Each one prefers their head intact, except for one. Or maybe the wise old folk of the North had better places to be and so he started the conversation with a tired sigh. 
"I thought you have something to say about the Queen, boy." He looked at the young Baratheon who was seated across him with emotionless eyes. 
The Baratheon stared at Cregan and the air shifted. The old wolf calling his name had given him confidence to open his mouth and talk about the real reason why this council meeting was held in the first place.
"Your grace, as much as we all pray for the Queen to get better. Please understand that we talk about this with the clearest intention in mind. After what happened to the Queen and the uncertainty of her health, we believed that it would be better to take another wife…..for the sake of our budding kingdom. In that way, we could secure an heir." He spoke with an air of superiority. As if he truly knew what he was talking about. 
Aemond stared at the man. He doesn't know how long it was but he just looked at him. The silence was uncomfortable and some of the gentlemen in front of him looked nervous as they waited for him to speak. 
"Y-your grace?" After some time, the Baratheon spoke again. 
He breathed in and finally, with an intense stare at the fool in front of him, he spoke with a neutral chilling tone.
"Did you know how the war started in the first place, boy?" He tipped his head and waited for an answer. 
Not knowing what to reply, the Baratheon boy blinked and looked around for help. But when no one could give him an answer he replied, confused. 
"Your grace?" 
"When my beloved lady wife was almost dying from childbirth, I suddenly remembered how and why we were all here. Why thousands of lives were lost. Why did dragons almost die and were wiped out?" He said with a menacing smirk. 
"You see, it started on this very council. Who were greedy for power to have the dragon blood on their lineage. To have their blood on the throne. And a foolish king who wore his heart on his sleeves. Those greedy old men pretended to truly care for him by using the memory of his wife and in the end feasted on his heart, voraciously. "He was way too lenient for his own good and once he realized he was being used, it was too late to change anything." My mother once told me. 
And I — I always saw my father as someone who swims along the current because he trusts way too easily, not knowing that there were sharp rocks waiting for him at the end. Even if I knew he wouldn't give me the love of a father as he should, I respect him for being the king. I believed he did his best to be a good one and a fair father to us. It doesn't mean it was enough though." 
Aemond stared from afar as he recalled how he envied his sister. How she got all the love they deserved to have too. It was never their fault to be treated that way and so he blamed all of it on her. But after the war and during the time his wife had suffered the similar fate of the former Queen, he realized how lonely his father might have felt. He realized how his sister might have suffered from being a girl. It was a strong slap on his face as he sat in the middle of this council and watched how these men didn't care about what he had to endure and how the life of his wife was the only reason why he was keeping sane. They will never understand, never. 
"Your grace, w-we cannot understand-" 
"Of course you wouldn't. None of you would." He cut him off before he could continue to rebuke him. 
"If the Queen dies right after this meeting, those who had agreed to have me married for another one would be beheaded for treason. If she did not survive even though her body has been doing well for days, I will treat her death as intentional from all of you. Speak again of her that way, head will roll, and blood will soak the iron throne. The only reason why you do not have a mad King, who craves death, was because of her." 
He stood up and did not care with the way the men yelled in unison of their protest against what he said. The only ones who stayed seated were Larys and Cregan, who both shook their heads. He did not care if they agreed with him. His wife will not die and he will protect her even if it means he has to be a Mad King. 
💚
He stayed seated beside her, just like what he has been doing these days. 
He chooses to be with her at night. He cannot stand to sleep in their room without her. It feels empty and cold. 
The barren room, even though filled with gold and riches, feels like another room in a gloomy castle. 
Each night, he stayed with her. Talk to her until he falls asleep on her side. He will either hold her hand or weave his hand through her hair, to soothe her. Sometimes, he even sings to her in High Valyrian, hoping that she will hear him and finally open her eyes. She always tells him she loves his voice when he speaks his native tongue. 
He waited and waited but it seems like today was like any other night. She needed a whole day of sleep to recuperate. He slowly closed his eyes after he kissed her goodnight. And prayed again that tomorrow, is the day she will smile at him again. 
A caress…
He cannot help but smile at the soft feathery caress on his face. It reminds him so much of how she wakes him up in the morning. What a beautiful dream..
A dream…
He frowned when he realized it was just a dream. She was still asleep and sick. And with his brows knit together, he relinquished the soft touch of fingers on his face. It feels familiar and welcoming. 
Just a bit more, he wanted to feel that she's with him. 
He was slowly going back to sleep, after what happened today, he seemed tired than usual, and it did not take long as the sleep tugged him back again when a tap jolted him awake. 
Even though the war ended a long time ago, his senses were still heightened and he was glad he wasn't wearing his sword or so he probably would have killed whoever forcefully woke him up. 
A smile….
He stared, mouth agape, when he saw you giving him a tired smile. He blinked and then, he panicked as he rushed forward at you, careful not to hurt you with his weight.
"My love.." He said with so much worry in his voice. He was feeling the tears threatening to come out of his eyes as he gazed at her pale face and dry lips. He doesn't even know how he will touch her. A moment of hesitation, his hands stopped midair as he panics that he might break her. What if he hurt her unintentionally and she fell asleep again?
He watched her as she tried to move her mouth but failed. She swallowed and tried again. This time he went to where the water and cup was placed and he helped her up to drink. She was thirsty and her mouth is probably dry from being asleep for a long time. Aemond calm yourself! She needed you more than now.
Once done, he carefully assisted her to lean on the headboard and she sighed with relief. 
He was just looking at her. And she was looking back at him. It took a while, the staring, until his face contorted with relief and then, he cried. He was shaking as he held her hand. She felt her fragile hands weave through his hair as she shushed him. He knew she was smiling. Glad to be back on his arms. 
He never felt so relieved and so thankful. 
All his life the people, his loved ones and even the gods did not like him. 
No matter how much he tried his best. No matter how much he was better he will never be chosen for he was only a second son. He was there as a safety but never the one.
But you choose him. And never did your love wavered. 
He never felt so hopeless when you were in pain and bedridden. 
He never felt so useless despite doing his best to be the strongest for his family. 
It was the first time he felt so inadequate and weak. That he gave all of his strength to kneel and pray for you whenever he could. He begged and promised that he would do anything in his power just so he could have you back. 
And now, crying in your middle like a child, as you held him as tight as he did, he prayed for gratefulness. 
💚
A week after you woke up, you are still not strong enough to walk outside. 
You relinquished the sun on your window and watched as Aemond carried and sways your daughter. 
You have a feeling that the reason why he was able to be in your room, as much as he could, was because he threatened the nobles every time they tried to stop him. You tried to talk to him once, compromising that he doesn't have to be with you, almost the whole day, but he shrugged and rolled his eyes, stating that he would rather be with his wife than be surrounded by men. 
Aemond can be stubborn but he never runs from his obligations so this was truly new for you. 
You giggled as you watched your lord husband's eyes widen from surprise. He was teasing your daughter by placing his finger in her small palm, when she closed and squeezed him tight, never letting go. His eyes softened when she cooed at him. 
He looks so different from when they call him the one-eyed prince for being vicious and fearsome. You were truly loved by the gods for witnessing this interaction and being one of the centers of his affection. 
"I will make her my heir." He said with a plain voice, as if he was asking you how you were. 
"My love?" You frowned, confused. You have witnessed Rhaenyra being crowned heir and how the war started from there. What is going on?
"I will change the law to make the eldest an heir. No matter what gender they may be, they will be given the same education and treatment, fit as the next ruler. If the nobles disagree, not that I care about them, I will also add that a female heir and noble will always have a noble child. Compared to a prince, a boy, the one she would carry will have noble blood in their veins. I will use my life, my reign to establish this. My daughter will be heir and no man, no noble, will be able to take that from her." The initial worry and confusion you felt from earlier vanished, as you watched him share his plan with the softest eyes. The setting sun at the window, creating a soft silhouette of him carrying his daughter. He loves her more than the throne. Something you have never witnessed before. 
It warms your heart and you never thought you would fall deeper in love with him this much in this lifetime. You will forever be happy that he chose you. 
"My love…..you always prove to me why I choose you every single waking moment of my life." Without thinking you opened your mouth and spoke the words that always lingered in your end. 
Surprised, he stared at you and then, he smiled in awe. You don't even need him to speak for you to know that his eyes and soften feature was him telling you that he loves you. 
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emeraldkniight · 2 months
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Could you do an enemies to lovers NSFW with Damian?
p.s. I’d just like to say your writing is SO good for someone whose first language isn’t English! I would not have known
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ANIMALS !
older!damian x fem!reader
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. . . drabble. smut. porn without plot. Dirty talk, degradation. Dacryphilia, humiliation kink, praise kink, Damian is mean. Some bdsm. Aggressive sex, bondage. Oral sex and fingering, p in v.
𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.
𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.
𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. . . Okay, I get it. Damian is your favorite character on my account, I get requests for him all the time and I love that because who doesn't love Damian? So here we go again. By the way, I'm glad you liked my writing! It is almost impossible for me to write without any grammar or vocabulary mistakes, but I keep trying! Thanks🌷 (Pd: if you reblog this post it would help me a lot) <3
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— Do you want to stop?
From the vulnerability of your bed, shackled hand and foot, you thought it was a bad decision to bother Damian for so long. You thought you were just being funny, that no one would care that you were harassing Bruce Wayne's son. You had no idea what he was capable of doing to you.
— No.
A mischievous smile played on his lips as he stood over you; you could feel his weight on your body. In an instant, however, you felt yourself fall hard against the mat in the room.
— What do you have to say now? — He admired you from on high. — Aren't you the same funny girl you always were?
The sole of his shoe brushed your cheek. You felt incredibly humiliated, as if you were an inferior being in his presence. He looked at your body as if it were worthless.
— This would be amazing for anyone to see you: tied up, naked, on my bedroom floor. I can see your dripping pussy from up here. Who knew the amazingly cool girl would like this? — His shoe began to press harder against the flesh of your face. — You like it rough, guess what, I'm the best at it when I put my mind to it.
The wetness from your pussy dripped down your legs, leaving gray stains on the carpet. Damian, aware of this, walked around to stand behind you to get a close-up view of your ass. He easily slid a finger through your swollen folds and instantly it was stained with so much accumulated moisture.
— Damian, what are you going to do? — you asked, somewhat anxiously, but received no answer.
He bent his face down until his breath was in contact with your pussy; you quickly felt a mere shiver from your nervousness. Soon you felt his lips, and not long after, his whole hand making an obscene sound inside you; sliding up and down your wet folds, not yet reaching the pleasurable point that made you go wild.
— Damian... — You moaned softly as you buried your face in the carpet.
He didn't stop moving, he just kept playing with every part of her crotch, making you wish he'd concentrate on the throbbing clit that needed attention.
One of his fingers hovered around your clitoris and began to caress it gently. Just as you thought you were about to come, he pulled away.
— Didn't I tell you, y/n? Bad girls don't have orgasms.
You quickly began to cry. You knew that if he didn't give it to you, it would be incredibly impossible for you to get that orgasm on your own. So from your position, you just moved closer and started begging.
Kneeling down, you approached him and looked at him with your tearful eyes. Lamenting, with your face at the level of his knees, you still looked at him from the ground.
— Damian, please... — You sobbed. — I'm sorry for all the things I've done to you, but I really need you. I want you to fuck me. I'll do anything you want.
The young man simply smiled as he watched his enemy from his clearly superior position.
— Lool at this, the famous y/n now begging losers for some attention? I feel sorry for you. — He said in reference to how you used to tell him he was a loser.
He cut your bonds with a knife. You felt relief as the blood began to flow again.
You didn't notice as he grabbed your neck, almost choking you. He pulled you roughly close to his face until his lips collided with yours in a dirty, loveless kiss.
Finally, he pushed your face to the floor and lifted your ass until it was in the ideal position to fuck you. Without further ado, he rammed you hard and began to move hard inside you. As hard and precise as if he were an animal.
— What's the matter? Is it incredibly hard to believe that only I can fuck you like this?
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flowerandblood · 8 months
Text
A Wife's Only Duty
Halloween Request Oneshots Series
[ Aemond • Targaryen x wife • female ]
[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, toxic relation, violence, marital rape, choking, character death ]
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[ description: The war changes Aemond beyond recognition, and his wife becomes the target of his eternal abuse, also in bed. One day, however, he crosses the limits and has to face the consequences. Angst, violence, marital rape, very dark!Aemond. ]
This oneshot is an Anon Request and is created with Halloween in mind, so unlike what I usually write, these oneshots will be very dark and uncomfortable. Keep this in mind before you start reading.
*English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy!*
My others works: Masterlist
____
At the beginning of their marriage he was terrified. He had no idea how to handle this young, gentle girl who, by his parents' decision, became his wife. Her presence embarrassed him, he hid his feelings behind a mask of indifference and hostility, he deliberately did not allow her to get close to him even when she tried.
He had had a few one-off adventures with servants before marrying her, but at the time he cared less for their fulfilment than for his own, treating them like vessels in which he drained his seed.
During their wedding night, he didn't know how to act, her face pale and frightened, he guessed her mother had warned her that the act would only be pleasurable for him.
He ordered her to lie on her stomach and she did so without a word. He told her to lift her hips and spread her thighs, and she did. He liked how meek and obedient she was and thought he would try to be gentle, that way he would reward her.
He heard her breathing hard and stifling sounds of discomfort as he entered her, as he began to move slowly inside her, panting hard, her hands clenched on the pillow. She was tighter than he had expected, her walls squeezing him from all sides, giving him pleasure he had never experienced before.
Unwittingly, he began to slide faster into her, panting louder and louder, her sounds of discomfort becoming more pronounced, he heard her cry out softly.
"− quiet −" He exhaled coolly, for she tightened her lips and fell silent, taking what he was giving her, cuddling her face into the pillow, obediently waiting for the end, which came soon after.
He cum inside her with a loud sound of relief and found to his surprise that he was satisfied.
"− you did well, wife −" He praised her with a low murmur, sliding out her slowly, and she breathed a sigh of relief, her whole body quivering.
He let her stay with him that night, she moved away from him to the other end of the bed and did not speak to him. The next day at breakfast, he saw that she sat up in pain, a look of discomfort painted on her face that she tried to hide by adopting at least a partially satisfied expression. She tried to start a light discussion about nothing, but he was not interested in that and remained silent.
After several of their close-ups, something changed, since she directed his hand between her thighs as he slid into her with deep, sure movements, since he discovered the point between her folds, her insides became exceptionally moist and sticky, no more gasps of exertion came from her lips, only moans, her insides clenched against him.
"− please, husband − touch me like this −" She mumbled, and he felt his manhood throbbing hard at her words, some kind of pride and satisfaction filled his chest, so he did as she asked.
That night was the first time he had seen female fulfilment.
Since then she had sought the closeness of his body herself, unable to bond with him outside of bed, approaching him in this way, and he had not spurned her. He could consider that at this point their marital life was quite successful, approaching what might be called a bond, even if only carnal, still close.
And then Luke died because of his stupidity.
He saw a change in her, her face, her eyes no longer lit up with desire at the sight of him, he saw pain and horror in her, she blamed him for starting the war, for making them no longer safe.
"What is the meaning of that look, sweet wife?" He asked, staring at her watchfully, his fingers rubbing against each other in a gesture of frustration that she knew all too well. She swallowed loudly, apparently wondering strenuously how to ease his anger.
"Forgive me. I'm terrified." She whispered, and he, without knowing why, burst into laughter. He approached her and she took a step back, her eyes wide.
He didn't like that.
"Come here. Come here, I say." He hissed, furious as she tried to pull away from him, his hand clamped tightly on her shoulder. He turned her around with her back to him and forced her to bend over, but she still tried to break free.
"− no − please − please, husband, I don't want to −" She mumbled out with difficulty, her voice and body trembling, her tiny fingers clenched helplessly on his skin. He pressed his lips to her ear.
"− you don't want to? − are you disgusted with your kinslayer husband? hm? − you swore to me, you fucking whore −" He growled furiously, struggling against her, pulling up her skirt in a violent motion, grabbing her head by her hair and pressing her cheek against the table.
She cried out loudly as he entered her suddenly and violently, panting hard, sliding into her hard and fast.
"− that's it − fucking take it −" He growled out, pumping his length into her so fast and aggressively that he felt like he was going to pierce through her stomach, her sobs mixed with her moans.
He slipped his hand between her thighs, teasing her pearl in circular, slow motions, her lips parted, horror and indecision on her face, her walls throbbing on him suddenly. He licked his lips feeling it.
"− just like that − that's my good wife − it's okay now, I forgive you −" He breathed out, fucking her with all his strength, the sticky, loud slapping of flesh against flesh echoing through his chamber. He chuckled under his breath as he felt her come suddenly, moaning and whimpering, her legs trembling all over as waves of pleasure ran through her body.
"− fucking knew it − greedy little whore −"
From then on, their rapprochements became more and more violent and aggressive because of him, because of what had happened to Aegon, because of what had happened to Helaena, because of Alys, whom he fucked every time he appeared in Harrenhal, because she was expecting his bastard child and his wife still hadn't given him an heir.
"− you drink Moon Tea, don't you? − say it, or I'll strangle you −" He growled, his cock slamming against her back wall again and again, pushing her walls to their limits, his two hands clenched on her neck. She cried out, all pale, shaking her head.
"− no − no −" She mumbled wearily, and he pressed his lips together, looking at her with rage.
"− fucking whore − you think I'm an idiot? − that I don't know? − that I don't know that you hate me, that you abhor the thought that you could bear my child? −" He wailed in despair, feeling like he was about to burst into sobs for some reason, her eyes rolled back, her breath caught in her throat.
If he had let her go then, she would have been able to tell him that she was expecting his offspring.
His hands held her neck in an iron grip until he finally reached his peak inside her with a growl of pain and relief. He looked at her face, panting heavily, her eyes empty, her body lying still.
She was not breathing.
He let go of her suddenly, looking at her with wide eyes, his hands trembling in the air. He touched her cheek and patted her lightly, as if he wanted to wake her from her slumber.
"My love? My love, wake up. I didn't really mean it, I would never hurt you." He babbled out with difficulty, his throat tighten, his heart pounding like mad, he felt like his head was spinning.
She didn't react, her absent gaze fixed somewhere far away, into nothingness, her lips slightly parted, her body soft and relaxed.
He whined like an animal, pressing his face to her cheek, holding her still warm body close, the tears he hadn't let fall for years dripping down his face.
"− I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm so sorry − please, forgive me −" He cried out in despair, cradling her in his arms like a small child, stroking her hair. He lowered her onto his bed again, stroking her cheek, kissing her nose, her forehead, her lips as tenderly and gently as ever.
"− please, wake up − please, I promise I'll change −" He mumbled, but it was too late, all that remained was her empty body, her heart no longer beating, on her neck bruises from the grip of his hands.
She ran away from him where he could no longer hurt her.
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @verena-targaryen-writes @travelingmypassion @cryingforlife
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nebbyy · 1 month
Note
Hi! I'm not sure if you are currently taking requests, so feel free to ignore mine if you aren't! If you are taking them, however, would you please write something for King Baldwin IV overhearing reader sing and falling further in love with her because of her soft and sweet voice? Upon realizing that he's there, she becomes extremely flustered and apologizes for disrupting his peace and quiet. Thank you!
King Baldwin IV x reader - Sweetest of melodies
A/N: omg it’s been so long since I’ve received a request! I can’t lie, Baldwin is my supreme comfort character, I think I’ll never stop writing fro him because it gives me sooo much joy😩😩😩 I personally like to think of this piece as taking place a few months after Baldwin’s and reader’s wedding, so it could be considered a sequel for my first fic ever. Also, the song mentioned in this piece is a real song from the 12th century called "Can vei la lauzeta" (in English,"When I see the lark") by Bernart de Ventadorn, and the painting is "Lovers in a garden" by Charles Edward Perugini!!
Oh btw!! I’m working on a long ass series about him, based off of a prompt by @phantomsghoulette  which I absolutely LOVED. Sooo all the KoH fans stay tuned for future updates🤭
Warning: nothing really, just pure fluff. Maybe you could say that religious innuendos could be something triggering for some people but I don’t know. There might be ONE, SLIGHTLY spicy mention but only if you squint really really hard. Also, keep in mind that the historical accuracy in my fics is rather relative, I try to add some details here and there but I don’t have the knowledge (nor the skills) to write a piece 100% accurate to the real history. Also, reader’s gender is female and uses she/her pronouns!!
Word count: 2918
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Someone would say Baldwin's patience could already be put to test by only his illness, which she ruthlessly does not grant him a moment's respite, the eternal enemy of his body and his spirit. But no, to this perpetual torment of his had to be added the perilous duties of a king. And it was certainly not governing his people and lands that sucked what little energy he had left; this duty of his, given by his father and willed by divine design, he had long since embraced.
It was the nobles, the leeches who had drained him of his lifeblood lately. It was their endless demands, the insidious words that hissed behind his back, the languid bows and sleazy gifts designed only to gain some favor from him. Looking around him, he seemed to see only vices and sinners, power-hungry beasts just waiting for his moment of weakness so they could feed on what Baldwin had under his power.
In fact, not without reason in the past the young monarch had attempted to abdicate the throne and leave it in the hands of one of his sisters, rid himself of this burden and devote the rest of his short life taking care of his declining health and to nurture his mind away from so much corruption. At times he dreamed of retiring to France, experiencing for the first time that cold climate and verdant landscape of which his preceptors and advisors told him so much.
In fact, not without reason in the past the young monarch had attempted to abdicate the throne and leave it in the hands of one of his sisters, rid himself of this burden and devote the rest of his short life taking care of his declining health and to nurture his mind away from so much corruption. At times he dreamed of retiring to France, to experience for the first time that cold climate and verdant landscape of which his preceptors and advisors told him so much.
And he dreamed of taking you with him, imagined how sweet his life would be if his only concerns were taking care of his health and you, faithful wife, sole blessing in his life battered by such burdens. How he would wish that his days would revolve around you, that his first thought in the morning would be riding by your side through the flourishing meadows, and his last thought in the evening would be caressing your face as you lie slumbering in his arms.
It would have been a blissful fate his, if only Sybilla's husband had not died at the very moment when he would have needed him most. If only his mother had not convinced him that Guido de Lusignan was a good fit for his sister and had continued to seek a new consort for her, perhaps that fate would not have been snatched from him so early. Too late to repent now, for Baldwin would have preferred to die agonizingly on his throne rather than leave power in the hands of that bumptious and arrogant lord, who was noble only in title.
And so he found himself in this sort of hellish limbo, forced into a position that should never be required of a man in his condition, but prevented by his morality from abandoning his reign, impelled by faith in God's greater plan, that his suffering should not be in vain.
And his faith always seemed to strengthen when he had a way to escape the stifling air that characterized the throne room, always packed with knights and crusaders and nobles, when he had a way to retreat to the palace gardens, one of the few verdant places in all of Jerusalem.
With slow, swaying steps, Baldwin strolled slowly among the local palm trees and flower beds from the faraway lands, those where men speak Italian and the more distant ones, those from which his fathers came. Exotic fruits mingled with those more congenial to the French, who out of nostalgia for their lands and fields did what they could to bring the seeds of these plants with them to overseas.
His mind seemed to go out, shifting his attention from the constant buzz of court demands and duties to the chirping of birds perched on the roof, to the eviction of the soft branches that shielded him from the scorching sun. He enjoyed the refreshing air that reigned in that small oasis of greens, which was able to infiltrate the fabric of his white robes, crossing the bandages that covered much of his body and finally reaching his skin, numbed by leprosy. 
To tell the truth, of that refreshing sensation little reached his damaged nerves, if not for those few points that had been spared by the merciless disease, from which departed that unusual shiver that caused him a delicate smile of relief, enjoying the refreshing breeze. Then he closed his eyes and breathed in, discovering with satisfied surprise that that light gust was also a harbinger of an intoxicating perfume, a mixture of exotic and familiar.
How funny to think of the concept of "exotic", for an Angevin born and raised in the unknown lands of the east. For him it was exotic French fruit, exotic were the green plains and heavy clothing that brought his allies from the northwest, and equally alien to the snowy mountains and forest beasts that he saw drawn in detail in his childhood books. It was these changes of perspective that stimulated his mind in a myriad of thoughts and reflections, but in a pleasurable way for him, not as exhausting as his daily duties.
His reflections on exotic and local made his mind travel, wandering until he came to a subject very close to him: Muslims and Jews, reflecting well on the landscape in front of him, recognized that he could share with them the same concepts of what is foreign and what they can claim the original belonging. And he could not but reflect on how it must have been for the first inhabitants of Jerusalem to observe the Franks who came as conquerors, and filled their gardens with such foreign plants as those pale warriors who had taken possession of their dwelling... But after all, the French soldiers who were emissaries of God’s will needed something familiar to stabilize them as they fought to reclaim the Promised Land, ut Deus voluit.
But all his brooding over these matters of conquest and submission ended up in the background in his mind, when a colorful scarlet sphere caught his attention. An exquisitely red apple seemed to tempt him from a branch just above his head, beckoning him to be picked and savored by the king, that he might lose himself in the juicy sweetness of that fruit with origins so far removed from the Holy Land. But the king's modesty prevented him from yielding to that temptation, wanting to avoid exposing the advanced state of deterioration in which his mouth was.
And in fact if that temptation had been alive it would have pale in front of something much more captivating, a sound that echoed in the most melodious distance of the song of any nightingale. Baldwin was surprised to think that he had not realized before the melody that inibriated the atmosphere around him, so taken by the tribulations of his mind that he almost missed such an intoxicating song. He did not know what he felt once he arrived in Heaven, if he had ever arrived in spite of the unjust fate in Hell that the evil Saracens wished him. He didn’t know it, but if one ever had to imagine what Heaven sounded like, that song would come to mind.
When I see the lark beating 
Its wings in joy against the rays of the sun 
That it forgets itself and lets itself fall 
Because of the sweetness that comes to its heart
She sang in Occitan, the beautiful one in the distance. The voice of his people, of his lineage, that few in the palace can pronounce after so many years of distance from their homeland in Provence. Paying more attention to the echoing song, he would not even have had to approach it to give a face to that melodic voice: he knew how to recognize his wife’s voice.
Yet it was a new context in which he saw you, new facets of you that he had not yet had a chance to observe. Your voice, sweet as honey, venerable like all your other traits, he had never heard it except in speech, when you were proclaiming orders before your subjects with the authority fit for a queen, or when you laughed at the poems and performances of the court singers, or when you whispered in Baldwin’s ears sweet words, while you lay with bodies merged between the soft silk sheets. Always spoken, but never sung.
Alas! Such great envy then overwhelms me 
Of all those whom I see rejoicing,
But though he didn’t need to approach you to recognize you, the desire to see your face exceeded any of his other needs. As if mesmerized by the sound of a siren, Baldwin was advancing towards you, with steps so slow that it seemed a hunter about to catch a deer in the woods. He wanted nothing more than to hear you sing again, that you continue to bless him with that angelic melody. What worse sin would there be than to interrupt your song, more sacred than a prayer?
His stomach filled with butterflies and turned upside down like the beasts' jugglers, his breath seemed to stop in his throat, depriving him of the breath he no longer needed, as long as he could hear you sing a moment more. And her cheeks warmed, when finally she saw you among the white lilies, more beautiful than divine salvation.
I wonder that my heart, at that moment, 
Does not melt from desire.
Baldwin wondered if you sang with him in mind, if those words of love reflected your own emotional turmoil. 
Oh, if only it were so, and your singing equalled his own words inscribed in the sonnets and poems he composed in your honor, which he himself commissioned from your favorite singers to perform at banquets, only to steal an embarrassed smile and to see the blush of your cheeks, along with the glint in your eyes.
Whether it was or not, the outcome remained the same since he was at that moment in your proximity, in the same state mixed with adoration, love and wonder at the bold gesture. But if only he had confirmation from your words...
Alas! How much I thought I knew 
About love, and how little I know, 
Because I cannot keep myself from loving 
The one from whom I will gain nothing.
"My angel, your voice sounds like heaven but your words are false." Baldwin practically saw you blow up from your session, completely taken aback by his sudden appearance, unaware that your husband has been acting as a secret public all this time. Your initial surprise quickly turns into a laugh to mask your embarrassment for being caught in a moment like this, when you thought you were alone to be able to run the streets of music with your voice.
"I beg your pardon, I thought I was alone in the gardens," your eyes met his own only for a moment, before you turned your face to try and hide the blush of your face, "it was just a silly song I heard singing to the Provençal knights. I hope I did not disrupt your walk, my love..”
He laughed softly, trying to hide his amusement from having caught you off guard. He approached you more quickly than when he did just a few moments before, but with the same phlegm that managed to inspire a feeling of safeness in you. Sitting by your side on the bare rock, he raised his bandaged hand to gently cup your face and make you turn your eyes towards him. It was only then, when you had no choice but to look at Baldwin in the face that you noticed how his eyes, the only part of his face exposed to the outside world, formed two half-moons, and you came to find that it was because of how widely he was smiling, as you lowered the veil from his face. 
He was making fun of you, you realized. With that swagger in his manner, you understood that his amusement came from your embarrassment at that silly misunderstanding. Laughing softly, he gently shook his head before bringing both hands to your face, holding it as if it were the most sacred of relics. "As much as I would love to hear you sing of your affection for me, just to hear your voice echoing in the air is the sweetest of gifts. How could you deprive me of this blessing thus far, my dear?"
You could do nothing but giggle at his sweet words, bringing your hands to his wrists to feel him closer to you. "You flatter me, my king. My voice boasts nothing more than those sweet melodies that the singers in the palace sing. Mine is only a dabble."
His gaze softened, his playful spirit addicted to your presence. He took the floor again, in a tone as soft as cotton, "At least this once, my queen, allow me to disagree with your words. My life may be short and my reality small, but never have I heard such an angelic voice, singing such sweet melodies. And God may not yet have granted me the ability to predict the future, but in my heart I know well that never will any singer be able to hold a candle to your beautiful voice, never will any song be able to express the same feeling of ecstasy.
"You, my angel, have managed to make a simple ballad an absolute work of art through your voice. I think I should take you with me into battle next time, for with your mere voice you could addict Saladin and his entire army.
"And seeing you here, angelic and perfect like the lilies that surround you, singing so softly that it would make any bird jealous, that I realize that whatever toil, whatever challenges God has stored up for me, and all those that still await me in my life, are worth it, if at the end of each of them there is you, voice of an angel, to hold a place for me in your arms of heaven." 
You were sure you were on the verge of crying a flood of tears, the result of pure emotion at his sweet words. It was not new to you that Baldwin worshipped you as much as the God to whom his kingdom was consecrated, from the first moment he got to hear your voice and admire your face, and you knew at once that he had become yours, body and soul. But it was new to you to see him like that, completely entranced by your simple being-it was something new. A wonderful newness that made you feel like the most desired of women on this earth.
Taken by a rush of boldness, you practically jumped into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck; you ended up on top of him, with his hands around your hips. You both laughed, like two little boys frolicking in the gardens. And you left a kiss on his left cheek, then on the bridge of his nose. A kiss again on his forehead, and then down on the side of his lips. When you were about to give him another kiss, just where he most yearned for your lips, against his, you stopped a few inches away, with a wide smile, before speaking again, "If so little is enough to make your happiness, then I will sing to you every day, whenever you ask. Let me be your nightingale, your morning song and your lullaby all at once!"
"I couldn't wish for anything else, my dear. Now, however, I beg you, sing one more melody for me, before my duties drag me back to the palace, and I shall consider myself a blessed man."
"With great pleasure, my love." Your voice was now little more than a whisper. With a languid movement, Baldwin moved his body to rest his head on your lap, and you eagerly greeted him. After slightly moving the hood that veiled his head, so that you could play with his golden locks, you began to sing a new melody, one that this time spoke of reciprocated love, of the joy of being able to hold your loved one in your arms. But the words you sang barely reached Baldwin before his sky-colored eyes closed softly, his mind giving him at least a moment's despite from his perilous life. You continued to sing, caressing his face, which from day to day appeared more and more mutilated by his disease, singing the sweetest of melodies so as to prolong this idyll in which you and your husband found yourselves in. 
For with you Baldwin had a way of putting the crown aside, and being nothing more than a foolish young man in love, whose only duty was to love you, to love you with all the love that an angel like you deserved.
@sweetworkoffiction hope you like it <3
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that-sweet-jester · 2 years
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Just a bunch of bad guys
A little background below ⬇⬇⬇
HA I TRICKED YOU, it's not little, it's a lot!
Alright, this was just supposed to be an attempt at character design of my own after I read bunch of Superhero AUs, but I got carried away and created some lore :')
-WILBUR-
Full Name: Both him and Techno had been adopted by Philza at young age and took up his last name, but wanted to keep something of their own. Hence, both have their nicknames "Soot" and "Blade" (not last names, they don't know what they were).
Alias: I wanted to base all names of the Syndicate on Greek mythology, however I had hard time finding something for Wilbur. I came close to calling him Apollo, but most of the things attributed to this god, aside being the patron of music, just didn't align with what I had in mind for him. Thus, ta da, "very original" Siren. Even tho, it's not really a name name - "lured sailors to their death with a bewitching song" just fits too well.
Powers: Hypnotic voice was an obvious choice, but I wanted all of them to have two main abilities. Thus, after long search I stumbled upon enhanced hearing, and hear me out. Wilbur wears mask over his eyes (he can see through it) but it gives the illusion that one of his senses is gone, and what they say when one sense is taken away? Another one amplifies >:D And I just think that someone whose powers are based on sound would be more sensitive to it. It's not like he has super hearing for miles away, he can just hear well what someone is whispering like few meters away form him :p
OK THAT'S IT. I think that's the most I've ever written on this site. To anyone who've read the whole thing: ily <333 thank for reading my rambling and sorry for any grammatical errors, English is not my first language and I was too lazy to do a spell check.
-TECHNO-
Full name: Explained before. I'm sorry, but I just can't separate those names from them, there is no Techno without Blade.
Alias: Now I spent a lot of time on this one, bc I just couldn't settle on anything. First I thought about Ares, for being the patron of blood lust and warfare, but just, it didn't work that much for me, I just think there should be more meaning behind the name. Then I searched more, I stumbled on Polemos and some other I can't remember and finally settled on Perses.
PERSES was the Titan god of destruction. He was the father of Hekate, goddess of witchcraft, by the Titanis Asteria ("Starry One"). Perses' name means "the Destroyer" or "the Ravager" from the Greek words persô and perthô. Hesiod inexplicably describes him as "preeminent among all men in wisdom"
And I just think this one's perfect. God of destruction? nice. "The Ravager"? Techno loved mc ravagers and I just can't pass this coincidence. "Preeminent among all men in wisdom"? Man's crazy smart, also as I'll explain more in a moment, Techno knows things he shouldn't really know, and he's almost always ahead of everyone, so, check. Also, my fav goddess aside form Persephone is Hecate so, additional point.
Powers: Enhanced durability is pretty explanatory. Mans could be thrown through a building and only his hair would get messy, maybe a bruise here and there and a lot of complaining, but that's it. You need someone equally powerful to bring him down. NOW, hyper awarness, man oh man, so I NEEDED to include the voices somehow. And I never saw them as something negative in his case. Of course, during combat, they start to demand bloodshed and make him sometimes loose control or result in sensory overload. BUT most of all, thanks to them he knows things - names of people or locations he never seen before, where the punch is coming at him from, answers to weird questions, who stole his food, and why is it always Wilbur, etc etc. So, yeah I thought that writing it down as hyper awarness, might work.
Additional info: His eyes are always red, but his sclera changes color to black when he's out on a mission or fighting, basically when the voices become louder the eyes become more intense in color. As civilian he wears red glasses most of the time to somehow mask the real color.
-PHILZA-
Full Name: You have no idea how much I wanted to write him down as Philza Mine Craft.
Alias: So, I also struggled to find a name for him. I was battling between Thanatos or simply calling him The Angel of Death. But then I was struck and everything became clear. I love fanfics where Phil was a hero before he saw how bad the system is and decides to become the "bad guy" who's actually kinda good, but does bad things sometimes. So, why not use it. In my version, before he became a villain, he was known as Angel, the Hero Committee wasn't as fully developed, so the heros still could stay anonymous, that's why even now they don't know his real identity. After he left he decided to take up new alias and therefore Thanatos was born. Person with black wings associated with Death, also now has a scythe??? Fits perfectly. And that's how people from calling him Angel started calling him The Angel of Death.
Powers: He has the ability to hide his wings and manifest them whenever he wants. I thought about making them just permanent, but I think it's just cooler when suddenly you see a character spring out a pair of big wings out of their back out of nowhere for the shock effect. (no i wasn't just too lazy to draw them, what are you talking about)
Avian telephaty - I also just couldn't not include the Chat. Wherever you see a cloud of crows you know the Angel of Death is nearby. He can communicate with any bird that is a raven, crow or rook. They're his eyes and ears.
Now, I can't leave without giving some credit to the writers that inspired me:
The Oath of Hippocrates by Melatonin_High
tommyinnit's clinic for supervillains by bonesandthebees (bonesandcacti)
Welcome Home Theseus by SoulfirePhoenix
All of them are on Ao3 and are super cool, so give them a read <3
Also, I'm planning on drawing Vigilante Benchtrio but we'll see how much that'll take me xd
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shuinami · 10 months
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Jess and Hobie: their defining strengths + their weaknesses
I had a thought about Hobie while I was writing, have been thinking about Jess for a while and then this post about Miguel came out and it made me kind of want to yap. I'll only talk about Hobie and Jessica here because I'm biased + Peter & Gwen have been talked about a lot + I linked a post about Miguel + Miles & Pav have simpler, more obvious flaws that basically come down to youthful naivety.
I also find it really interesting that their flaws are basically opposites, Hobie's comes from "inconsistency" whilst Jessica's comes from stubbornness. And again, both these flaws come from their greatest strengths.
TL;dr
Jess' defining strength is her resolve when it comes to fighting for what's right and tussling with destiny but it causes her to have a one-track mind, even if it comes to dedicating herself to something wrong (from being misguided).
Hobie's defining strength is his optimism (e.g. anarcho-communism) but the extreme difficulty of pursuing those ideals and the struggle against systems can bring that optimism to a breaking point, causing him to be inconsistent or, more directly, to give up.
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I think people forget that Jessica's pregnancy is by design and not just a 'feature' of Jessica Drew as a character. She was deliberately chosen to be represented in this stage of her life and I think it is so important to her character, even if it's not in the traditional way that pregnancy is typically portrayed as in media.
I think her pregnancy shows the kind of person she is: most obviously, it's cold, hard evidence that she's a bamf who takes care of spidey business even while pregnant.
More importantly to me, though, there's an implication that, as her universe's one and only spidey, she has been the one to save the day and been the change she wishes to seek, effectively enough that she feels comfortable bringing a baby into the world.
Unlike someone like Peter, she does not make the choice between bringing her child to work with her or leaving them behind. She just has to do what she needs to do to make sure her kid is safe, there's no failing for her. During her pregnancy, it's always going to be a matter of life and death. Jess is well aware and, instead of shying away from action, she's just committed to not making those kinds of mistakes. To get over her losses. She's going to take charge of her own world's destiny as she has always done and she's going to make sure it's good.
Her strong allegiance to Miguel's ideas is her most glaring flaw to us as an audience because A. we're seeing things through Miles' eyes, she's standing in the way of him saving his father and B. we know that Miguel can't be right about canon events - we know they wouldn't make the movies as bleak as that.
Of course, taking a step back from our perspective, it's also a flaw because she is being antagonistic to a teenager as a grown adult. It might make her seem cold and harsh.
However, Jess was the one to vouch for Gwen, to take her in, even though Miguel didn't want her to and they could have left things up to the web of destiny. Jess trusts her own capabilities but she doesn't trust the world to be kind. She doesn't assume Gwen can handle things just because she can, either. On top of being sympathetic, I think her dedication to being the change she wishes to see is why she accepts Gwen as a student; she trusts that a young girl can make the world a better place too, it's not a thing where she wants to micromanage everything. She just wants to know the multiverse is in safe hands. That's her "great responsibility".
The only reason she is following the anti-Miles agenda is because Miles, as far as she and anybody else in-movie knows, is jeopardising the existence of every universe (insidiously via the holes). Maybe, in another position, say, a bright-eyed teen who mainly worried about high school and puppy love, she would be more willing to risk things, to see how it goes.
She's not in that position though. Her world that she felt confident she had the power to keep safe has been made uncertain. One day, it could just go poof, along with her baby, and she wouldn't be able to stop it in the moment. If she makes the right decision now, if she doesn't make a mistake, she can prevent it. It's understandable that she's going to do whatever it takes to prevent anomalies.
What was the canon event chosen to represent her?
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Her version of the moment from "The Final Chapter".
It comes from a story that largely focuses on Peter's personal life before spiralling into action to make up for a mistake that has made Aunt May fatally ill. In the panel, Spider-Man is trapped under machinery with the cure - the thing that will absolve the mistake - just out of reach. As the lair is flooded, drowning is imminent.
Against all odds, though, Spider-Man pushes past what should have killed him and rises to the occasion, with the thoughts of saving Aunt May and refusing to have a repeat of Uncle Ben.
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"I won't fail you. No matter what - I won't fail."
Jess has had to handle her own fate as well as her world's. Now that the multiverse is involved, it's not going to stop at her own universe. She has to stop this. She won't fail. As per the dialogue between her and Gwen in ATSV, she's made a mistake before (by getting too close to someone) but she tells Gwen "I got over it". Sounds so savage in the moment but she still gives Gwen a chance to make her own situation right before letting her get kicked off the team. Helping Gwen in spite of the anomaly would be a mistake if she couldn't handle this.
And when the Spot gets away and Miles enters the picture? The gloves come off. It's tempting fate at that point. Jess' no mistakes mindset pushes her to even prepare to roll up on a teenager.*
Her greatest strength is her resolve - I mean, hell, she doesn't let even pregnancy slow her down when it comes to saving the world - but it causes her to be stubborn and leads her down a misguided path.
*By the end of the film, she seems to be questioning Miguel's method, though. On top of the fact that BTSV is obviously going to end on a good note, I think Jess' fight against destiny is going to have her come around in the end as Miles is doing the same thing.
Onto Hobie:
I luv luv luv Hobie as much as everyone else, he's definitely my favourite but I feel he has his flaws too (which tend to make me love my faves more lol).
In fact, I think he says what they are when we first meet him, though they are veiled as jokes.
I find that the audience tends to position him as a perfect distillation of anarcho-communism at its best. I think the teen spideys see him in a similar light; they see him as effortlessly cool & charismatic, a wise mentor figure ("use your palms" + his play fighting with Pavitr featured him taking on the stance of a boxing trainer as Pavitr tried to punch his palms) but he's not like the adult adults - he's relatable, he's cool, he's anarchist, he's not always on their case like Jess and Miguel.
He neither calls himself a hero nor a role model... but he is the perfect hero and role model, right? He's the best! He's the only one who's looking out for Miles and, when Miles is getting chased down by the entire society, what does he do?
He... quits.
Wouldn't that perfect hero we all believe him to be swoop in with his cape, know exactly what to do and save Miles, the underdog? He can't have possibly known Miles would manage against the society and, if he knew it was possible, then why wouldn't he lend a hand? He didn't drop off the watch in Miles' dimension, he gave one to his bestie, Gwen, likely in the scenario that she wanted to quit or got booted because 'it [didn't] work out'.**
I think Hobie's major flaw is his lack of consistency, as he famously said himself.
He has a strong moral code - he believes in the right things for the right reasons... but communism and anarchy are pretty much impossible to properly/entirely employ in a system that is consumerist, capitalist and authoritarian. He riots, he fights, but it's never over. London isn't free. In my experience, people with strong moral compasses tend to have issues with themselves because they hold others to higher standards than most and hold themselves to even higher and impossible standards (think Diane from Bojack Horseman).
One of the first comic panels I encountered of Hobie was him getting real with Captain Anarchy about losing morale because, despite killing President Ozzy Osborne, the face of fascism in his dystopia, nothing changes. He wasn't able to save the world like a hero in a movie or like a proper role model. He 'failed'. When you give your everything and nothing changes, no matter how optimistic, clever or read-up on theory you are, it can be hard to keep going.
And what is chosen as his defining canon event?
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His version of Spider-Man quitting in "Spider-Man No More". Rather than being fed up with the world antagonising him as 616 is, Hobie is done with an antagonistic world.
The Hobie/Spider-Punk that has been built up externally, as far as I understand, would never give up. He'd keep raging forever and ever because that's the cool thing to do, because it's the heroic thing to do - because it's the right thing to do.
But under the mask, he's just a teenager, imperfect as any other.
He's still a Spider-Man too. Before the bite, he was another lanky black boy in racist-af, peak National Front, send-the-blacks-and-the-Asians-back, '70s England. He's a nerd, as evidenced by his ability to build such a high-tech watch, especially as a teenager who wouldn't have had access to anything like it until joining the society, meaning he had to pick it up quick. And I'm to think he didn't have any Flash-esque characters in his life? "Come out of it."
As Spider-Man with the mask on, he yells to the rooftops; as Hobie with the mask off, he mumbles and whispers. Sure he looks cool now but people don't tend to come out of the womb as Spider-Punk. On top of that, he's still so young and surely has plenty of room to grow.
I believe he joined the society in earnest, optimistic that he could help the multiverse but eventually reached his limits with actively facilitating death and trauma, with saving the multiverse not meaning freedom in his own universe, with being shackled to the web of destiny. I'm not convinced he made the watch in one day; I think he had been planning on quitting for some time and was waiting for the right moment (as he also wanted to support Gwen because friendship is important to him). That's why he tries to dissuade Miles from joining but, when he does leave, he doesn't go out in a riot, he doesn't even leave knowing that Miles has people on his side other than him. Hobie just quits.
I think his greatest strength is his optimism (his anarcho-communism & adamance about "love, joy and freedom" as per the un-permitted performance art pieces in his montage) but he's smart and he's been through shit - he isn't naive like Pavitr or Miles - the great heights of that optimism lead to intensely low lows.
**(I don't really see why or how he would have been able to predict everything that happened in the chase. I know that the watch is set to 1610 but if Hobie believed Miles would make it out of 928 and get back to 1610, would that not be things 'working out'? Or did he predict that he would get to the go-home machine but was the only one who considered that he would be sent to the place his spider came from. Why? And why wouldn't he set the watch to 42 if he knew Miles wouldn't be in 1610? I feel like the 1610 on the interface is just there to be there and that Hobie gave Gwen the watch so she could have the freedom to leave 65 if she wanted to, in the event that she quit the society because they captured Miles or because Miguel kicked her out as Jess kept warning.)
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shadeops21 · 3 months
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Rules/Recommendations for writing an Australian character/OC
(The following is just a list of things I personally feel should be included or considered if one makes a character of Australian nationality, descent or heritage. It by no means is a hard and fast ruleset, but just things that can be done to enhance a character’s flavour or add a little authenticity)
Shortened nicknames for fellow characters that follow Australian Shortening Conventions: multi-syllablic names are condensed down to one, and an -a/ah, -o, -zza, -y, or -sy is added, eg: McKenzie (or and Mc name) > Macca, Damien > Damo (Day-mo), Jeremy > Jezza.
Swearing. This is actually a common trap I’ve seen, with some Australian characters being less reserved in their language than others. This will depend on the specific background of your Aussie, as vulgarity is moreso a commonality in smaller cities and rural spaces, and less so in larger built-up cities. That said, we do tend to through the more vulgar words around with greater frequency than other cultures, with f### and c### being thrown around more freely.
Slang. Again another trap, especially with older “stereotypical” Australian slang that I personally hear more from my grandparents and older uncles and aunts and less so my own peers + 10 years. That said, some terms are still used very frequently and have no generational boundaries, including but not limited to: ute (pickup truck), bottle-o (liquor store), servo-o (service/petrol station), “the shops” (any centralised marketplace from your general stores to large malls), booze bus (roadside randomised breath testing/DUI checkpoints, some which do both alcohol and drug testing), hoon (reckless driver, typically young males in cars too powerful to handle at their skill level).
Weather tolerances. This varies based on a character’s geographical background, but you’ll find that most Australians have higher than normal levels of tolerance to extreme heat. However, those that live around the Brisbane latitude and north have decreased tolerances to cooler temperatures, decreasing the further north you go. (Personally I find myself pulling on long sleeves and hoodies after it hits 20 or cooler.)
There’s probably more here, but it’s approaching 10pm for me at time of writing, so for my Aussie followers/mutuals, please feel free to expand upon or add your own tips or recommendations to writing Australian characters in a believable fashion. Curious to see what they are!
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lordofdestructionm · 1 year
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The fear behind the manic grin
I know I have a reputation as a feral Vikdecai account (I mean can you blame me?) but all the characters in Lackadaisy are amazing and the main cast all have their own interesting stories playing out
Case in point the musical, poetic and lovably derranged Rocky Rockaby who thanks to the Pilot (for what will hopefully soon become a full series) a new large audience being introduce to
But there is one moment where the feral energetic grinning persona slips and we see the face a of a broken young man in a state of total despair, before mercifully Mitzi decides to lighten the tone
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This is key to understanding Rocky and his motivations
After being abandoned by his father and his mothers death from illness Rocky was raised in his early years for a period of time by his aunt Nina along with his cousin Calvin (Freckle)
However, due to some as yet unrevealed tragedy, Rocky was ejected from the Mcmurray house and spent the following years riding the rails
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He stayed in touch with Calvin, writing him letters about his adventures, and as you would expect from a flamboyant personality he exaggerates what a big adventure it was how optimistic he was feeling at this time as he travelled from place to place working various assorted odd jobs between 1921 and 1924
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The Lackadaisy Wicki provides a nice breakdown
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But of course the reality is quite different. Having no home, no family and no friends outside what brief and fleeting acquaintances he made on the road took its toll
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But that changed when he found himself joining Zib's band in 1925 which at that point was playing exclusively for the Lackadaisy Speakeasy. For the first time in years he has not only found somewhere seemingly more long term to be but back in the place he thinks of as home
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But even this seemingly positive change does not get to last long. Atlas's death in 1926 throws everything into uncertainty and without its leader and despite Mitzi's best efforts things begin to decline both financially and in terms of manpower.
Those that remain do so for various reasons despite leaving arguably being the smartest option. Rocky does so because he is done with drifting and is determined to hold onto the solid ground he has found no matter what. He makes this desperation clear to Calvin
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Though it should be noted while he wants the Lackadaisy to be saved he wants it done on certain terms. Specifically ones where he is the golden boy that saved the day. He is desperate to ingratiate himself to Mitzi. This is in part due to him having a crush on her, but even this is tied to his perception of her as a "damsel in distress" that he can ride in and rescue, and in the process secure a permanant place for himself
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This is why in both the pilot and the comic he is so devastated when he sees that she is dissapointed with his efforts.
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This is also why in both you can see a barely passive aggresive attitude towards Wick.
Its not just that he is a rival for Mitzi's affection, the friendly wealthy industrialist who clearly has a thing for the beautiful widow threatens to make Rocky and his efforts to be the Knight in shining armour redundant and equally so Rocky himself.
If he invested his money in the Speakeasy he would be the hero and Rocky would just be the clown that tried so hard (risking his life even) but failed, only for some handsome aristocrat to stroll in with his chequebook
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Rocky fears being adrift again. Of feeling alone and unwanted again. He is willing to go to extreme lengths to prevent that from happening. To feel wanted, included and loved he will start as many fires and thow as much dynamite and dodge was many bullets as it takes
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Lets keep spreading the good word and hopefully our lovable pyromaniac and the rest of the cast will get the long running episodic series they deserve to have their stories told (and of course get more love for the comic)
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serawritesthings · 5 months
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SPELLBOUND
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Pairing | Legolas x Reader Summary | Your bittersweet love will surely endure until the last of your days. Word Count | 1.1k A/N | Hello lovelies! Ever since I was young, my love for Tolkien has been my greatest inspiration when it came to writing and world-building. But, also all the fantastic writers out there that had me plastered to my computer at 4 in the morning, staying up all night reading wonderfully written stories about all the characters. So, because of this, I am taking a tiiiiiiny step into the community with this short story, hoping some of you will enjoy it. If you do, I'll happily write some more, and if you have an idea you would like me to write, feel free to send me a message!
“Our love cannot be.” 
Her words had echoed in his mind since the moment they left her blushed lips, at first only mindless words lingering in his mind as he stared thoughtlessly, then excessively nagging at him with every chance. Obsessively and utterly spellbound, he could only stare into your teary eyes that never hid from him, taking your trembling lips to his longing ones in a silent protest and carefully surrendering to the prospect of a love that might be possible if you loved hard enough. 
How naive you were, for you said the words too late. What good did it bring to only now speak of what you should have said a long time ago?  Perhaps it could be a testament to yourself that you at least tried to cease what you had, however weak the attempt might have been. Furthermore, you might have wished for him to be stronger than you, more sensible–but perhaps you were too alike in that sense.
“How can you say those words when you already know how my heart longs for you?” You could only close your eyes as he spoke, words dripping like honey over your troubled mind. Momentarily, you bathed in the golden glow, feeling the tenderness soothe the aches and hurt. How could you give him an answer that wouldn’t cause pain when his very words pierced you so–when his care for you extended further than you could have ever expected?
Devastated by the uncertainty that clouded your mind, shaking fingers jerked away from their hold on the silk that covered his forearms. You gasped when his hands didn’t hesitate to grasp yours, placing your palms against his heart that thumped heavily beneath the layers of fabric. 
“Do you feel that?” He spoke softly, leaning his head down to try and meet your avoidant eyes as his other hand found your cheek. “It does not beat like this for anyone but you.”
Unshed tears gathered in the corner of your eyes at his confession, overwhelmed by the idea of being loved by someone who would surpass the short time you had yet to live. Time was a cruel hand, one you couldn’t help but fear deeply, for he, bound to centuries, had a timeless plight while you were made to fade in the fleeting light.
“Our love is naught but a flame caught between two winds,” you say in sorrow, eyes closed to spare yourself the guilt you would feel if you gazed into his sky-blue eyes, the usual vibrancy muted–as if the stars that danced within them had momentarily dimmed. “It’s fragile and fleeting, how will it last?”
“Have I not pledged my heart to you?” Legolas implored, his words dulled with sorrow at the distress residing in your eyes. “Have I not deserved to relish in the warmth you bring me?” 
“Legolas…” He heard you whisper, a gentle plea that fell on deaf ears as he drew you closer, meeting your lips in a longing kiss. In a stolen breath, he reveled in the taste as his forever gentle hands cradled your face, fingers tracing the delicate contours as if to etch it into memory–into the fabric of his immortal being. 
With each passing heartbeat, the glade witnessed two souls so desperate yet unsure, and as it held its breath, the air shimmered around them in the quiet night. Like a silent whisper on your skin, his fingers lighted a path like fire as they caressed, refusing to let you pull away. Oh, how you wanted to. Yet, your heart clamped something so fiercely when the thought passed through your mind, the feeling not far from making you double over in anguish from having to be apart. 
The desperation in his embrace pulled at your heartstrings, urging you to cast away the dark thoughts that rained over you endlessly and lose yourself in his arms that wound their way around you–shielding you from hesitation and fear.
Yet tentative, your response wasn’t passive; fingers seeking refuge in the strands of his silken hair, and with each strand that slipped through your touch, only felt all the more consumed.
“You say it can’t be, yet why can’t my body stop aching for your touch even though you are right here, already in my arms?” His voice was a soft murmur in the night, lips parting for only a moment when speaking to find yours, then again, refusing to let you protest. “Mortal you may be, yet my heart yearning does not know the confines of time.”
Your gaze softened by his sincerity, voiced by her uncertainty. “I can not help but worry about what happens when my time passes. What aching memories will it leave you with…” You trailed off as the thought crossed your mind, but as you felt Legolas brush a strand of hair away from your tear-stained cheek, a soft determination shone through his glossy eyes. 
“Then surely I will pass, for I couldn’t bear to spend the rest of my life in a world where I can not gaze upon the wonders of your spirit that light up the darkest corners of my soul.” Yet melancholy, the words rang true as his voice had a slight undertone of acceptance that confused you. 
He knew that when the burden of your parting would become too heavy, he would transcend the sorrow that bound him to this earthy realm and leave all behind in hopes of once more feeling your touch on his graying skin. He came to welcome the idea a long time ago. Yet, the sadness in your eyes hurt him terribly, and his mind didn’t know how to lessen your anguish and recover the gleam that continuously resided deep within them, at times almost bursting with wonder.
“Why do you speak so indifferently? The thought does nothing but pains me something so fiercely.” He only gave you a soft smile in return, grasping your cheeks between his palms, thumbs tenderly caressing the soft skin underneath it.
“Can you not see, my love?” Placing his forehead against yours, his eyes pierced yours warmly, reassuring you that he only spoke of the truth. “In the realm beyond, we will once more find the embrace of one another, and I will continue to love you as I do now."
“Fret not, meleth nín.” Placing a tender kiss on your teary cheek, he whispered in your ear, bringing your head to rest wearily in the crook of his neck. “For you shall have me for the remaining part of your days, and when your departure becomes a burden too heavy to bear, I shall find you amidst the stars.”
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