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live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years

Text

Misplaced Mail - Part 2

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Mini-Series

How does Rowan respond to Aelin's comment about her using him instead of the new toy she purchased?

Fic Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Part 1 | Part 3

Warnings: Language, NSFW

4644 words

*******

Aelin’s heart pounded furiously as she leaned back against her door. The smirk she’d plastered on slipped and she stared at nothing as she heard her last words echo in her head.

You know, maybe you could help me out sometime and I wouldn’t need this.

‘You’ being Rowan, her insanely hot neighbor who opened ‘this’, the vibrator she’d ordered.

Shit. Fuck. What did she just do?

Realizing she was still holding the toy, she tossed the box across the living room and dropped her head in her hands, groaning.

Oh, Gods, she would never be able to look Rowan in the eyes again. Whatever tentative friendship they had was over; she’d thrown a dildo-shaped wrecking ball into their barely-there relationship. It didn’t matter anymore that the infatuation she had with him had slowly grown into a full-blown crush—maybe something even more—but now, there was no way he would ever speak to her again.

Shit.

And regardless of her crush, she was still his neighbor. They’d have to see each other on a regular basis and, fuck, she was going to have to move.

Before she could keep spiraling, a loud, incessant banging thundered from the other side of her door, startling her enough to jump away from the reverberations at her back.

Aelin stared wide-eyed as the knocking continued.

Obviously, it was Rowan knocking, there’s no reason why it would be anyone else, but why the hell was he here? Was he going to make fun of her? No, he wasn’t mean, and if the last few minutes were any indication he was far too embarrassed at the whole thing.

The knocking kept coming and she took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, and slowly walked back to her door. She stood on her toes to peer out the peephole and froze.

It was Rowan and he was staring directly at her.

He didn’t look like he did a minute ago all red-faced and fumbling for words, he looked determined. But it was hard to tell for sure through the distorted glass. What she was sure of, though, was that he was looking right at her.

Aelin ducked down and took another breath. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. Normally she was cool and confident, but right now she felt like butterflies were having a circus in her stomach.

Get yourself together, Aelin.

She schooled her features and opened the door.

Rowan’s eyes connected with her’s the moment the door swung open to reveal his towering body with one arm resting on the door frame above his head.

She didn’t say anything as he continued to stare at her. She didn’t think any coherent words would come out if she tried, not given the way his eyes were filled with so much heat it almost knocked her back a step. This wasn’t the same embarrassed Rowan who moments before was blushing and stuttering. This also wasn’t the reserved and collected Rowan who she’d had conversations with and who she’d developed a massive crush on. No, this Rowan was something else.

Gone was the pink tinting his face and ears, now replaced by a predatory focus and undisguised desire. He was looking at her like she was an oasis and he was a man dying of thirst. And not a small part of her was thrilled by it.

A slow smirk spread across his face at her silence, but not willing to be outdone, Aelin drew up the courage that allowed her to make her earlier comment.

She arched a golden brow and asked, “Yes, Whitethorn?” Internally, she praised herself for how calm her voice sounded.

The smirk grew as he slowly and deliberately let his eyes drop to survey her from head to toe and back again. She felt every nerve in her body light up as if his gaze was a tangible thing washing over her.

When his eyes met her once more, he took a step forward so that he was mere inches away from her. Aelin could feel the heat of him and barely resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.

She sucked in a sharp breath as he ducked his head low, his breath caressing her ear as he said in a low voice, “If you really want my help, then call me by my first name.”

She couldn’t stop the shiver that coursed through her as his words hit their mark.

Rowan didn’t move any closer, but she could feel his breath on her skin. He was waiting for her answer before making another move, she realized—trying to see if she was serious or not. When her silence stretched out a few seconds longer, he stepped back. Aelin met his eyes and even though she could see uncertainty there, she knew her own had turned molten at his words. She didn’t think her fantasies about her neighbor would’ve ever come true, but maybe today she’d be proven delightfully wrong.

Aelin licked her lips and it was her turn to smirk as she noticed his attention zero in on the movement. His eyes snapped back to hers and she knew he understood the look of desire and lust she was giving him. A moment passed and she could’ve sworn something electric passed between them.

“Rowan.”

It was as if his name on her lips was permission and a summons because the next moment had her lips crashing against his.

Aelin felt like she’d been struck by lightning. She suddenly couldn’t get enough, and neither could Rowan, it seemed.

Her hands tangled in his hair as his hands gripped her hips, each trying to pull the other closer. Their mouths moved in synch and Aelin couldn’t get enough of the man whose hands now roamed over her body. One of his large hands drifted down to squeeze her ass and she moaned into his mouth at the feeling of it.

Rowan walked farther into her apartment, never taking his mouth from hers, and guided her backward as he slammed the door behind him. She heard the lock click and then both his hands were back on her body. He kept backing her up until she felt the cool marble of the kitchen island at her back causing her to arch further into Rowan. His low growl as her breasts pushed more firmly against him sent hot anticipation coursing through her.

Their lips kept moving together while their tongues tried to savor the taste of the other.

His hands slipped down to the backs of her things, just below her ass, and easily lifted her up onto the counter. Aelin loosed a low moan at the change in position and the thought of all the things those strong arms could do to her. She ran her hand down his muscled biceps and forearms...yes, there were lots of things he could do to her.

She brought one hand to his hair as the other clawed down his back. He made another sound low in his chest and spread her legs so he could step further into her space. His hands on her waist trailed up to graze the undersides of her breasts and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

Desperate for air, Aelin broke the kiss and tilted her head back as Rowan lost no time in connecting his mouth to her jaw, placing open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck.

Aelin was on fire. She’d fantasized about this more times than she could count and part of her couldn’t believe it was actually happening. But as Rowan’s mouth continued to kiss and suck along her skin, and as he pressed his hips into hers allowing her to feel his hardness against her body, she knew it was real because her fantasies paled in comparison to this.

She moaned loudly when he found the spot at the base of her neck and collarbone. She felt him smirk against her skin and grip her waist tighter as he sucked a bruise to the sensitive area.

“Rowan,” she gasped and slid her hands across his broad chest and down his arms. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt, forcing him off her neck long enough to take the shirt off and throw it across the room. Then she pulled his face back to hers and kissed him deeply. It only lasted a moment before he was gripping the hem of her sweater and pulling it over her head.

Rowan’s eyes turned near-feral and Aelin had never felt more thankful to not be wearing a bra.

Almost reverently, Rowan murmured, “Beautiful,” his eyes trailing over every inch of exposed skin, “so beautiful.”

The rush of heat the pooled in her core didn’t go unnoticed.

Aelin arched her back and then Rowan was on her. She dropped her head back and moaned as she tried to stay coherent through the rush of sensations. Rowan’s tongue and lips took one peaked nipple and were doing wonders at her breast while his thumb and forefinger rolled and squeezed the other one. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him to her.

Rowan bit down on her hardened peak the same moment he pinched the other and she thought she might explode just from that. She needed more. He lifted his head and began the same ministrations with the opposite breasts.

Aelin couldn’t stop her whimpers as he worked her oversensitive flesh. Her fingers tightened in his hair as his free hand splayed on her thigh, his thumb rubbing slow circles closer and closer to where she needed him most.

“Oh Gods, Rowan,” she gasped, near overloaded with pleasure and anticipation.

He released her breast with an audible ’pop’ and lifted his face to hers, smirking at her heavy breathing and lust-clouded eyes.

Aelin noticed something shift in his face and he let his smirk drop as he leaned his forehead against hers. He was still watching her with desire and need, but there was something more, too—something deeper.

“Aelin,” he rasped, and his breath fanned across her face. He raised a hand to gently cup her cheek, the gesture infinitely more tender than their actions moments before. She leaned into the touch and that seemed to reassure him as he said, “I’ve wanted this for a long time. This. You.”

Her heart stuttered as he spoke. What? He’d wanted her for a long time? She’d wanted him. Had they both just been too afraid to tell each other? Aelin searched his face for answers. He meant it. She could hear the sincerity of his voice and see it in his eyes. She listened as he kept talking while lightly stroking her cheek.

"You're funny and clever and beautiful. When we talk you get on my last nerve, but somehow those conversations are the part of my day I look forward to most."

She huffed a laugh, but Rowan said, "You're the part of my day I look forward to most."

Her throat felt tight. At a momentary loss for words, Aelin kissed Rowan softly, but with all the happiness she felt at his admission.

When she pulled away, he was still watching her. “Rowan,” his eyes shuttered as she murmured his name, “I want this, too. You, too. I have for a while.” And it was like a weight was lifted from her shoulders as she spoke the words.

Aelin’s heart leaped as a bright smile crossed Rowan’s face, and she couldn’t help but mirror it as she thought about how a mere mistake with their mail led to this. How her gorgeous neighbor had opened her vibrator and became so endearingly flustered that she made a joke about using him instead of the toy. How he’d seen the joke as what it actually was: an invitation. How they had just admitted to liking each other—apparently having done so for longer than either of them knew. And how they were both still half-naked, disheveled, and breathing hard in her kitchen.

He kissed her again and this time it was closer to the heat they shared before, but not quite. Aelin needed more, though, so she said with her normal amount of swagger, “You know, If you’d said something to me sooner,” she paused as he trailed kisses down her neck, “then I wouldn’t have had to spend so much money.”

“What?” He detached his mouth and looked at her in confusion as his hands migrated to her thighs.

She smirked, “You have no idea how much I spent on batteries ever since you moved across the hall.”

His eyes darkened and he growled before threading his fingers in her hair and tilting her head back so he could devour her mouth. This time, it was all tongues and teeth. Her hands clawed down his back as she bit his lower lip and tugged on it before slanting her mouth back over his.

Rowan stepped as close as he could get to her body and moved his hand up to the apex of her thighs. She wanted to sigh in relief as his thumb finally—finally—brushed across her clit. She didn’t sigh, but she did moan when he started rubbing small circles on her, the fabric of her leggings and panties making the fiction deliciously sweet.

Aelin could hardly think straight, but she did have the coherency to realize that Rowan absolutely knew how to multitask. One of his thumbs was rubbing circles on her clit while the rest of his hand gripped her thigh with a bruising intensity; his other hand was up massaging her breast, occasionally running that thumb over her nipple, keeping it peaked; not to mention the luxurious way his tongue was moving with hers.

Without warning, he moved his hands to the backs of her thigh and before she could protest the loss of his fingers, he was lifting her from the counter. Aelin wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed a series of marks along his jaw. She thought he’d carry her into her bedroom, but instead, he walked to the couch, apparently deciding the bedroom was too far away.

Rowan sat down on the cushion, keeping Aelin wrapped around him so she had a leg on either side of his thighs, effectively straddling him. Pressed together, they both moaned at the sensation of her nipples rubbing against his hard chest.

Aelin wrapped her arms around his neck and started rolling her hips, desperately trying to get some friction to relieve the ache between her legs. She could feel him, hard and ready, straining in his pants, and Aelin didn’t hold back her groan as she shifted her hips and felt the shape of him press against her core.

Rowan’s hands instantly flew to her hips to grip them and help move her along his hard length. He worked her over his lap a few more times before sliding his handing below the waistband of her leggings to cup her ass in his hands. When he squeezed, she let out a sound halfway between a moan and a whimper.

“Rowan, I need you.” She didn’t think she could wait much longer.

He nipped at her lip and his hands squeezed again before gripping her leggings and panties in a single hold and pulling them down, lifting each of her legs to get them off as quickly as he could.

His hands gripped her hips again but instead of staying there, he used his hold on her to lift her so she was only straddling one thigh. Almost unconsciously, her hips started rolling over his leg. She threw her head back as her naked core ground down against the rough fabric of his pants.

“That’s it.” Rowan’s guttural praise sent another wave of heat coursing through her and she struggled to keep her breathing steady as she rolled her hips faster. “Ride my thigh, baby.” His hands roughly grabbed her hips and moved her faster.

Gods, his voice was almost enough to send her over the edge.

“Rowan, yes,” her grip on his shoulders was so tight she was sure it would leave marks, but she didn’t care, not as the coil in the pit of her stomach tightened with every movement of her body.

He kept one hand on her hip and moved the other so he could rub her clit again. It was almost too much but in the best possible way. She moved faster, pushing down harder against his thigh in a desperate search for more friction. Rowan’s fingers rubbed harder and she screwed her eyes shut as the pressure inside of her built and built.

“You’re so beautiful,” He kissed her neck, “Look at you,” his mouth was right next to her ear sending shivers straight to her core. “Gods, I’ll never get tired of the face you make when you moan my name.”

She was close and his words were quickly sending her to the edge.

“That face, Aelin, is what I’ll see every time I close my eyes.”

She couldn’t respond, just moved her hips faster.

“And all those little sounds coming out of that wicked mouth,” he chuckled darkly, urging her hips to keep moving. “I have all kinds of plans for that mouth.”

She was so close, she could almost taste it—

He sucked on her earlobe, then said in that low purr, “Come for me. I want to watch you come undone knowing exactly who got you there. Come. For. Me.”

Aelin shattered.

All the tension exploded, her head fell into the crook of Rowan’s neck and she opened her mouth in a silent moan. Her legs shook as her orgasm crashed through her in wave after wave of cascading pleasure.

Rowan kept her moving, his hands never leaving her hips. He slowly brought her down from her high, continuing to mutter praises in her ear.

She smiled against his skin; her mind was fuzzy and her body aching in the most amazing way.

Aelin pressed languid kisses along Rowan’s neck. She shifted her hips and could still feel his erection pressing forcefully against his pants. At the movement, he cursed and stood up, wrapping his arms around her waist to keep her pressed against him as he hastily walked them into her bedroom.

Aelin sucked a particularly heavy bruise into the side of Rowan’s neck and decided that the low moan it drew from the back of his throat was one of the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard.

“Mm, Rowan,” She struggled to get out words while attaching her mouth to his skin, “I need you. Now. Please.” The last word she said was through a whimper as his fingers found her clit again before slowly sliding down to run through the juices of her dripping core.

He was still holding her up with one arm as he brought the other to his mouth to suck her juices from his fingers, keeping his eyes locked with hers and moaned at the taste of her.

She was panting; Aelin had never been so turned on. And she needed him—now.

“Ro, please” she tried to squirm in his grip.

She didn’t know if it was the desperation in her voice or the name she used for him, but suddenly she was thrown backward onto the bed, landing with a soft bounce. She laid there, soaking in the image of Rowan prowling towards her while unbuckling his belt and removing his pants and boxers. His hungry eyes didn’t leave her face as hers unabashedly went straight towards his cock as it sprung free. Her mouth watered. He was as beautiful as she imagined, and as deliciously big as he felt when she was grinding down on him.

If hadn’t needed him before—which she absolutely did—she would be desperate now—which she was.

And then Rowan was on top of her with an arm on either side of her body. He paused a moment to look at her sprawled beneath him and slowly dragged a hand down her neck, the valley of her breast, her stomach, and finally down to cup her between the legs. He smirked.

He was about to say something else, but she cut him off, “Later.” She insisted, knowing she was plenty prepared for him, “I need you inside me.” Aelin pulled him down so his full weight was pressing her into the mattress. “Side table, top drawer—condom.”

Rowan blindly reached out and grabbed the small foil from where she said it’d be. He ripped it open and rolled it on.

Aelin raised herself on her elbows and bit her lip as he stepped to the edge of the bed. He smirked again and wrapped his hands around her ankles, pulling her to the edge of the bed with a squeal. Rowan chuckled at the sound and smiled down at her.

She grinned back and relished in the feeling that this wasn’t awkward. As she looked at Rowan smiling above her, she knew it was perfect.

He leaned down to kiss her, deep and passionate, then pulled away and held her gaze.

"Aelin." His hands grazed her body. "Do you want me to fuck you?" She shivered as he held her gaze intently. "Do you want me to make you feel good?"

“Yes. Please, Rowan.”

He pulled her body even closer to his and lined his cock up with her entrance. He didn’t immediately push in, instead, he slid the shaft through her folds, coating himself in her slick. When his tip brushed against her clit, she let out a moan.

“No more teasing, I need—”

And then he was sliding into her. And in. And in. Her back arched and she cursed as Rowan bottomed out.

“Fuck, Aelin,” Rowan hissed from between his teeth, his brow furrowing in concentration to stay still while she adjusted. “You’re so tight. You feel so good.”

She couldn’t form words, but she lifted her hips in silent request and Rowan took that as permission to let go

He grabbed one of her legs, resting it on his shoulder, and used his hand to hold her other leg wide open. He didn’t hold back, he thrust into her with everything he had. It was as if the months of silent desire all crashed into him now and he had to show her, physically, just how much he wanted—needed—her.

He shifted the angle of her hips and then he was hitting the spot deep inside that sent her head falling back and a string of curses flying out of her mouth.

“Oh! Fuck, Rowan, yes!” She met his eyes and he turned his face to kiss her calf still resting on his shoulder.

He didn’t slow his pace as he grinned down at her, “There you are. I thought you’d gone mute on me.” She didn’t correct him by saying she’d been anything but mute. Speechless, maybe. Mute? Absolutely not.

Rowan was relentless, and she loved it. His hips kept snapping into hers sending shockwaves of pleasure surging through her. Already, she could feel another orgasm building.

One moment he was fucking her, the next he pulled fully out, gripped her hips, and flipped her over so she was on her hands and knees. Rowan pulled her hips back to his and then he was spearing into her again. Aelin cried out with every thrust, pushing her hips back to meet Rowan’s movements.

Then he slowed down to a leisurely pace and she tried to get him to speed up again but then she felt him lean over her so his chest was pressed flush to her back. She shivered as he spoke into her ear.

“Are you close, Aelin?” His voice was rough from exertion. He was still moving in her but not nearly as forcefully as needed him to be. She wanted him to unleash himself, to fuck her so she couldn’t walk straight.

“Yes! Yes, yes, please, fuck me, Rowan,” she gasped out.

He huffed a dark laugh and moved one hand down her front to tweak her nipple and causing her to cry out. Then his hand drifted further until he was rubbing her clit in harsh bursts. He stood back up, this time pulling her with him, so she was kneeling on the bed with him standing behind her.

She could feel herself getting there.

“You can do it. I know you can, baby.” He picked up his pace and rubbed his fingers in time with his thrusts.

Oh gods, oh gods, it was too much. It was so good.

“Look at me.” Rowan grabbed her chin and tilted her head to the side to plant a wet kiss to her mouth. She wrapped her arms around the back of his head to keep herself in place as he continued to fuck her into oblivion. “I want you to look at me when you come. I want you to know who made you feel this good.”

“You,” Aelin gasped, “You, Rowan. Gods, You.”

She felt her orgasm climb higher. She was right on the cusp of something incredible and she wanted more, needed more.

As if he could sense that she was right on the edge, he moved the hand that was gripping her hip down to her entrance where he kept thrusting relentlessly.

“You’re doing so well.” Another kiss to her neck. “I’m going to help you do even better.”

His middle finger gently brushed the place where his cock was thrusting inside her and—while still using his other hand to rub her clit—pushed his finger inside her along with his cock.

Her head fell back onto his shoulder and he continued to kiss her neck, while she let out a broken moan at the added stretch as he fingered her and fucked her simultaneously.

It felt so gods damned good.

“The next time you touch yourself,” his voice sounded especially strained in her ear, but she couldn’t focus on anything beyond the sensations he was making her feel. “I want you to think of me. To remember how good I fucked you, and how hard I made you come.”

His words were her undoing.

Aelin screamed as released barreled through her. Her legs shook and it was only Rowan’s arms around her that kept her from falling on her face. She felt his thrusts falter and then he cursed as he came, filling up the condom as her walls fluttered around him.

He held her against his body until he could steadily set her down on the bed and slowly pull out of her.

She whined softly at the sudden emptiness, but a moment later Rowan was there lying on the bed next to her and pulling her into his arms.

When she opened her eyes, Rowan was already staring at her with a soft, post-sex, dazed grin.

She knew she didn’t look any less dopey with her smile.

Rowan ran a soothing hand down her arm, gently pulling her closer to him. “Are you okay?” The concern in his face made her heart flutter.

“Better than okay,” Aelin rested an arm across his chest and laid her head on his shoulder, “that was amazing.”

She could help a small giggle that escaped as Rowan grinned at her praise.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the day I moved in and saw you outside your door watching as I was moving boxes."

She raised a brow and smirked, “well, I’ve wanted you to do that ever since you moved in and I watched you effortlessly haul those boxes around."

He huffed a laugh and said, “Get coffee with me tomorrow.”

Aelin smiled broadly and tucked herself even closer into Rowan’s side. “It’s a date.”

*****

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crimsonbubble · 4 years

Text

Pairing: Yeosang x fem!reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: first time, corruption kink, nipple play, light grinding, fingering, marking, overstimulation

A light shiver ran down your spine as you were pushed down against the cool sheets. Yeosang hovered over you, before connecting your lips. The kiss was passionate as your tongues danced with one another. You let out an airy moan into Yeosang's mouth. Pulling away for a breather, he attaches onto your neck and sucks the skin. Your back slightly arches, your hips grinding down on him.

Yeosang groans, hands gripping your waist. The pads of his thumbs draw light circles on your hip bones. "God baby, you have no idea how lucky I am to have you." His lips find yours again. Yeosang's hands push the fabric of your shirt up. Disconnecting your lips, you allow him to slip off your shirt. His hands cup your breasts through your bra. "Gonna make you mine and mine only." His tone was soft as he looks at you, then to your bra. Smiling softly, you lift up and he unclasps your bra, sliding the garment off and onto the floor.

His touch was gentle, but electrifying. His hands fondle your breasts; rolling your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb. You let out small moans from his ministrations. "Y-yeo, please," swallowing thickly, you moan at the pressure of his palm against your clothes core. Fingers pressing into your hole and the base of his palm against your clit. Any movement has his hand nudging the sensitive bud. "What do you want me to do, doll?" His voice was low and slightly raspy as he runs his fingers along your slit.

A red blush settled on your face as you avoided eye contact, shifting ever so slightly. Yeosang retracts his hand from your center and turns your head towards him. "I can't give you anything, if you don't tell me, doll." An embarrassingly loud whimper leaves your mouth as he presses his bulge against you, grinding down excruciatingly slow. Your blush deepens as you struggle to form a coherent sentence.

Yeosang chuckles lightly as he takes your hand in his. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you look at Yeosang with wide eyes, glazed over with lust. "I want you, to fuck me please, Sangie~ I want you so bad." The filthy words flow off your tongue as you push against his bulge.

His hands pull at the buttons of your jeans, unzipping them. Yeosang makes quick work of your jeans and pulls at the waistband of your panties. Yeosang's fingers graze over your clit. A broken whimper falling from your bruised lips. He pulls your panties downs and runs his fingers over your dripping pussy, collecting its arousal.

He prods a finger against your hole and leans over you, kissing you. "Relax for me baby. I need to prep you for my cock." He mutters against your lips. His teeth nip at your lower lip before his tongue meets your once again. You lose your self in the breathtaking kiss. Yeosang uses your arousal as lube and slowly pushes a finger into you. A pained whine leaves you as you grip his biceps. He leaves reassuring kisses on your cheek and neck. Yeosang sucks dark hickeys into your skin.

His finger pumps in and out for your pussy; thumb playing with your clit. All you could do was moan and whimper into the air at the sensation for his finger inside you. "Sangie, more please." Smirking against your skin, he adds a second finger, scissoring you open. Your moan turned high pitched as you got closer to your release. Your face contorted into own of pleasure as you push down onto Yeosang's fingers.

His mouth leaves burning kisses and marks on your neck, collarbones and chest. "You close doll?" "Ahh yes- fuck I'm gonna cum." Tears gather in your eyes as you moan helplessly, arching into Yeosang's mouth. He sucks your nipple into his mouth, pumping his fingers faster into your tight pussy.

"That's it baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my fingers." His words send you over the edge; clenching down around his fingers. He sits up and pulling is fingers out of your pussy. Yeosang sucks his dirtied fingers into his mouth, licking off your essence.

You whine is shame as you watch him lick his fingers clean. "Don't be ashamed baby. You look ethereal when you cum," he pauses, slipping out of his clothes. "I wanna see it again. I wanna see you come all over my cock for me, like a good girl." You gasp as his tip rubs against your clit.

"Y-yeosang-" your sentence is cut short as he slowly pushes into you. His head is thrown back as he groan freely. "Fuck baby, you're so tight." His hands grip your waist as to not just start bucking into you like a rabbit. You wrap your legs around his waist, moaning out his name. Yeosang pulls almost all the way out and pumps himself back in. You sob at the delicious friction.

"Fuck, moan my name baby. Let everyone know who you belong to. Let them know, only I can fuck you like this. Only I can see you like this. All pliant under me."

Your moans fuel his thrusts. Your fingers scratched down his back as he fucked into you. His nail dug into the skin of your hips, but the the pain was pleasuring. You sob in pleasure as Yeosang fucks you. His hand slides in between your sweaty bodies and toys with your clit. You felt a build up in your gut as you sobbed in pleasure. "Y-yeosang, I'm gonna cum." The words leave you as you clench around his cock. His voice was low as he pumped in and out of your throbbing pussy.

"Fuck baby, me too. Ah shit. Fuck keep clenching down around my cock-" you clench around him as your core tightens even more. Every time you close your eyes, your see stars. "Holy fuck, yea just like that. Keep doing that doll." His voice was small as he got closer to his release. The throbbing walls of your pussy, proving to be too much for him. Yeosang toys with your clit at rapid speeds as you cry out.

You clench impossibly tight around his cock as the coil in your stomach, snaps. "Fuck I'm cumming." You scream. "Fuck baby. Let it go, cum for me. Cum all over my cock-" his words are cut off as your ears start ringing. Your orgasm washes over you in strong waves. Your clenching pussy finally becomes too much for Yeosang. He pulls out and releases over your stomach and breasts. Your body shakes ad your slowly come down from your mind blowing orgasm.

The room is filled with heavy breathing. Yeosang retracts his body from yours and goes to clean himself, coming back with a damp cloth to wipe down your sweat coated body. Your eyes flutter open as Yeosang puts away the cloth. He slips on a pair of boxers and dresses you in his large t-shirt.

Climbing into bed beside you, he places soft kisses all over your face; whispering sweet praises in your ear. Yeosang pulls you closer to his body and nuzzles into your neck, breathing in your scent.

A comfortable silence greets both of you as you drift off to sleep to the sound of each others soft breathing.

#ateez yeosang #ateez gifs #ateez #ateez hard hours #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #kang yeosang #atiny #ateez atiny #kpop fanfic #kpopfandom #kpop smut #kpop fluff

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first-living-myth · 3 years

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Summer Made Children

Picture credit to @unbeknownsst

Jade hurt his ankle, and is laid up with cast and crutches. Jesse is sitting next to him, doodling heart on their cast to cheer him up.

Summer-made children, to come back to,

JESSE

"Did you fell off the tree?"

Mom indeed been working temp as a nurse (that's why she's not home every nigh; she's working in the emergency unit though the evening till early morning) not even once-- Jess ever saw someone with broken bone and casted leg in front of his eyes. He sat a little away from the bed: unnecessarily looking terrified. This is one of the weekly trip to dad's place as the adults call it, holidays. Yet if it's a holiday why Mom always looked rather sour everytime he's being picked up of the apartment? He noticed so; children always do, her tightened jaw and stifled frown and a little bid of adieu that sounded like, I want him back in Sunday before 7 pm, instead of a nice 'Have a nice weekend!'

"Did bad kids hit you?"

His eyes are all doe; the thing that would still be with him once he later grown up into a man, doe, big eyes. Although little legs just decided to took himself onto the chair right next to the older kid's study, keeping distance from the bed, afraid those little clumsy hands of his would leave the boy in pain accidentally. (he is clumsy, big one.)

"Is it broken?"

(Little gasp!)

"Do you need help!"

JADE

Jade Huang was twelve and he fell from the stairs.

The classroom is large and daunting, far too threatening for Jade's tiny brain to comprehend. He did not like it, not even the slightest. However, he dare not to refuse his mom’s will, forced him to get off to school no matter what. Typical Asian parents, he dare say. He wore plain silky white shirt, short sleeve, tapered western, baggy lightweight black pants, then also his most remarkable sceptical and somewhat supercilious, with its odd rectangular, thick dark brown glasses. It was quite unhinged actually, due to the constant damage he shoved. He likes to throw things around when too immersed with something; bad habit never cease, just like wonder does.

Jade never once revel in commingling coeval groups, simply enough, he prefers to be alone. Hence, he wouldn’t get surprised anymore if the peers around him despise his presence; uncanny, an oddball, yet shrewd to say the least. He could never mingle well, a perfect misfit. Then, when lunch time comes, he always sits beneath the tall primeval, verdant, gigantic and gnarled, shady trees, all alone but with his fine, readable, small leather-bound books. He would read anything, from classic literature, until full-colored comics.

Whether he will understand the contexts or not, possibly more coherent with the latter, it wouldn't be a problem. Reading was and only his solace, in amidst of boisterous cacophony.

“Oi, clotpole!”

A chubby, bald, slanted eyes, noteworthy flabby tummy, has appeared. He seems cute, yes, to others, indeed. But Jade, himself, saw the other child, named Jason, as his mortal enemy; Jason oftentimes beat Jade until he felt like his end was near, pulled childish pranks, such as stole Jade’s favorite toy and many others. As usual, he chose to be wise, at least he thought, to ignore the impudent boy.

“I said, oi, clotplole! Didn’t you hear or are you deaf?”

“What do you want this time?” He asked, nonchalantly.

“Buy this for me! You’re rich, aren’t you?”

Jason said with a glimmer in his eyes, playful just like a misbehaving child would, while proud, holding up a crumpled, frayed brittle, piece of paper. There was a picture of something, he was unable to limn it, because it wasn’t considered as one of his interests. One thing for certain, it was some kind of toy.

“Why?”

“Because I want to!”

“Why?”

“You’re rich?”

“Why?”

“Just buy it, motherfucker!”

“But I don’t want to, and my statement is final.” his tone surprisingly even, almost studious.

“You bloody wonker!”

The next thing Jade knows, he was at home, laid up with cast and crutches. He was unconcious for a while, and refused to talk. Even when the old fine looking aunty was talking to him, he kept his mouth shut. Albeit seen disheveled, his gaze fixated on looking at a child of eight or nine, all pale skin and thin bones and dark, tangled hair.

Ahn Jaesuk, the name of the child. But he prefers to call him Jesse, as prolly everyone did. This is their third meeting, Jade was slightly content, thrilled yet he did want to show it.

“Hi, Jesse.”

JESSE

"Did it hurt?"

The kid talks so much. So-fucking much, he pulls the chair closer to the bed that his curious side grows. Frown curls in response; he's so expressive in the contrary to the older boy regarding to his either reaction or feelings, big, even. He gives big reactions to almost anything.

(His expressions changes often when he's trying to read Jade's collection of books; the expression where he barely understands letters, the expressions where he found a new verb he never heard before, the expression where he found BIG ACTIONS in the comic books! Later growing up he'll find fondness specially towards DC Comics.)

"I mean, when the bad kids hit you."

Did he come too straightforward? No means to offend, but,

"Or did you really fell off the tree!"

He's careful not to jump into the bed. Sick people needs bigger space, Mom once said. She's the nurse afterall; a pro in sick person, making them less sick, helping the doctors to help the sick. The easy way in comprehending the term in the brain of a nine year old.

"So, do you, need a help when you need to go to pee? Was it hurt when they put the cast on your feet? Mom said where the bone is broken it will be swollen and painful.

JADE

Jade is the only child and he didn't know how to deal with a little brother, the one who acted and played like so. He didn’t know how to deal with Jesse, even though he had done lots of research. By all means, reading many books that he could possibly find, few have been proven useful, but the rest look ridiculous though. A snippet from Jade’s reading material, ‘Raising A Kid’, ‘Teaching Boy About Things’, ‘Shit Brothers Said’, ‘I am A Brother’, and the list goes on. Well, what would you expect from someone mediocre, twelve years old, plain yet geeky boy?

“Hey, do you know what word to describe someone that asks too many questions, talk too much, like you?”

Jade asked, mimicking a wiseacre or smart aleck look alike’s expression, his brow wrinkled as he leaned in close to headboard, which was covered in white pillows, in his smaller and rather austere bedroom.

“I read it in a book, apparently those people are called loquacious.” Jade slurs. He was slightly worried if this is the right choice or not; he was concerned, he hardly believed anything at all. One of the human nature, future is always seemed scary, because they cannot control it; predictions, however, is in another hand. Now, Jade prayed with all his might, he's able to, at least, produce a good outcome through this.

Even so, Jade stilled in disbelief, a hefty sigh escaped successfully. It’s not like it should be a surprise, or anything, because even at the very first meeting, Jesse couldn’t shut up; a brazen young boy, inquisitive most of the time. But the child seemed fastidious about Jade’s current condition and all. Many would think Jesse was being annoying, making the whole plight vexatiously so, most certainly to a sick, helpless boy. However, Jade saw things differently, it was adorable, cute to be truth, and amusing to look at.

He felt the sudden urge to squish, pinch those plump cheeks, when he was watching vacuously open, soft vermeil, comparatively dainty lips of Jesse’s keep moving and talking. And so, he did, unconsciously and makes wonder spread in his chest.

“It’s hurt, the pain still lingers but I guess I’m okay.” He laughed, dryly. “Someone pushed me. From the stairs. It was scary. It was high. He was bigger than you. Strange.” He said, intermittently so.

JESSE

"What?"

He sounded as chirpy, until a really, foreign word hits his ear, over a pronounciation that the little boy barely could repeat. Mouth opens; involuntarily, a gape visible, and he doesn't even know that he's making that face for that brief moment,

<: O

(That's exactly the face he is making.)

Doe-eyed, mouth-gaped, briefly silent; do all 12 years old be this cool? Or only because Jade spent more times with books instead of communicating with actual person? But Jess surely never heard that word before.

"--Lo, locucious." Hey, he tried his best to repeat that out. Hopefully the older one still has that emphaty to correct the kid, or he will grow sticking to it until someone else is kind enough to point out. But Jess knows the word, retaliation!

Don't ask where did he learn that but Batman comics taught him so! Inclusing many scientific terms (he believed they are scientific, because, Detective Comics,) that came out of the same comic book series.

Jess also spent too much time reading colorful comics.

He gave out big reactions, remember? Again, big frown curling over his big displease of an expression in which shifted in no time upon the progression of the story; someone pushed me, fell from the stairs, it still hurt--- he cringed a big fear, he was bigger than you; and his frown curling up into a fright. As if the older boy was telling him a horror, bed story time. (Would Jade read him bed story times?).

And he looked up the other boy with that same fright. Is he worried? Well, look at his face right now? "....Joshua got his knee hurt too when we played football in school," Joshua, Joshua Carson, his classmate, but he didn't mention about the fact that the mentioned boy as his classmate. "He skipped school for two! Weeks! I envy!! But then I missed him so I visit him everyday after school."

Chirpy, chirpy little boy,

"Uh-oh do you want me to take your drink!!"

(The story is still in progress).

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ladyloveandjustice · 6 years

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Reflection on Attack on Titan: How the narrative failed its characters

I did a breakdown of how Attack on Titan failed the potential of its premise due to its commitment to being edgy fascist garbage, but I also want to talk about how it failed a bunch of characters who were brimming with potential.

(This is gonna be messy and loooong, because I have a lot of feelings. Someone on the last post noted my “rhetoric blows” and I will freely admit I’m not really trying for coherent “rhetoric” here, I’m just venting my frustration so I can get it all out of me and move on).

Yes, it wasn’t solely the premise that drew me and so many others to Attack on Titan and its potential. There were a lot of unique and exciting elements with the way this shonen manga handled its characters.

I said before that Isayama never cared about his characters, but that was a bit of a exaggeration. I think he did start out caring about some of them...it’s just he quickly got bored with them and started treating them solely as tools to serve the “plot” and the screwed message he wanted to impart.

Isayama does have one strength as a character writer- he excels at showing characters who are messy, flawed and selfish but nevertheless sympathetic. Nobody in Attack on Titan is a classic unselfish “pure” hero, they are all deeply flawed. Isayama’s characters were compelling in the beginning because of that. He allowed his characters to exhibit cowardice, he allowed them to fail spectacularly, and that made Attack on Titan stand out. Despire the melodrama of their situations, actions and personalities, there’s a rawness to (most of) his characters that fits the horror of the setting.

Even the protag Eren, who a lot of people dislike or find easily the most boring character (honestly I found Levi the most boring though), has this ugliness to him that makes him distinct from the billion other teen boy protags in shonen. He is genuinely unstable and honestly a bit disturbing, as this collection of weird murderfaces he makes shows (behold my post popular aot post, ah memories).His obsession with killing Titans was unsettling, it was the classic determination of a shonen hero through a screwed up horror lens, this kid ain’t all right.

Historia especially resonated me because she was TRYING to be that classic pure heroine- but she was selfish like everyone else deep down. She just wanted to be SEEN as an pure-hearted martyr who sacrificed for others, when really all she was doing was giving into her suicidal urges. It was criticism of the very concept of the “immaculate woman”, and that’s pretty cool. So was the fact she was seen through by Ymir, someone who embraces selfishness in all other aspects of her life but is ultimately selfless when it comes to her love for Historia...that’s some good shit. It’s fantastic as a character concept, and Ymir and Historia’s initial character writing and backstory will stick with me because it was genuinely good in all its melodrama.

Historia and Ymir were nuanced queer characters whose relationships were fleshed out well. I do believe Isayama put care into crafting their initial arcs and developing them.

But then we run into a problem. A problem that eventually we run into with every character in AOT. Isayama stops caring about them. After their initial big arcs or moments in the spotlight or backstory reveals, he just doesn’t know what to do with these characters anymore. So they completely disapppear from the manga or fade into the background only to matter again when he decides to kill them off for some cheap shock moment. Either that, or they just exist to further the narrative of how the military is cool and we have to exterminate all our enemies and blablabla.

Because he ultimately cares about that narrative far, far more than he does giving these characters the full stories that resonate, make sense and are effectively paced. He's completely willing to undo all the character work he did previously if it means he can be edgy or impress his ideals on the reader.

That’s why Ymir and Historia have this dramatic parting that gets the audience pumped to see what happens to both of them and when they’ll reunite...only for Ymir to just completely disappear from the narrative, then be killed offscreen without even really re-entering the story again. That’s why Historia has this whole big arc about reclaiming her agency, resisting her abusive family and learning to live for herself...only to be intimidated into becoming Queen even though she’s not super into it, because she needs to serve the military and NOT live for herself after all, I guess? And oh, now she’s numbly accepted her duty to endlessly make babies for the sake of the nation! Turns out her real purpose is to be something for the other characters to be sad about.

Isayama got bored with Historia’s arc and Ymir’s arc and their relationship. He may have fun coming up with characters backstories and the big dramatic moments, but once those are over? He doesn’t care enough to do the work to conclude their stories. He gets distracted by his next plot point, his next action scene. The characters are toys he discards or breaks for the sake of either some edgy ‘anyone can die!’ moment or to push forward whatever new stupid plot point he’s thought up for his fascist narrative. (Links to evidence of Isayama’s views in this post).

Even in the (dumb) sense of “oohhh doesn’t this impress life’s cruelty upon us”, Ymir’s death is a failure. When she’s been gone from the narrative so long, to have it suddenly be like “oh, she died” just makes for a reader feeling confused and cheated, not devastated. It becomes painfully clear she’s an afterthought to the author, a loose end that needed to be cut. Same with Sasha’s recent death, I saw no sign she’d been anything but background in the narrative for a long. looong time before she was killed off.

Heck, look not further than Annie, who has now been trapped in crystal for what, 800 chapters? It’s been YEARS, both in universe and out. It’s honestly FUNNY at this point that she’s still fuckin’ in there, literally just frozen until Isayama can decide what he wants to do with her.. I hope the manga ends with everyone dead and then 1000 years later Annie emerges like “hey guys I’m back!” Then a meteor hits her or something. The intrigue surrounding her fizzled out a long time ago, yet Isayama still expects the reader to care whenever that hunk of rock shows up?

Let’s bring it around back to Eren. There were a lot of interesting directions he could have actually gone as a character, had he been forced to actually, y’know, deal with the fact he was channeling his grief in an unhealthy way or his worldview had ultimately been challenged at all. But Isayama actually agrees with Eren for the most part, he does think enemies should be exterminated without fail and genocide is cool and stuff. So Eren’s development throughout 800 chapters was just to ultimately get more and more obsessed with killing enemies, to the point where he doesn’t even enjoy seeing the ocean for long before deciding that was more important. Only his targets are definitely people now, and he doesn’t care about children or civilian casualties anymore, and yeah he’s screwed up, but doesn’t he have a point???? You can almost hear Isayama say this.

Eren exemplifies how Isayama approaches character development. He allows his characters to get more ruthless, more calculating, more fucked up, more comfortable with killing and torture as time goes on, but they can’t develop in a positive way ever- if they start going in that direction, it’s time for them to either die or regress. Nobody’s allowed to find any sort of lasting happiness, nobody’s allowed to become softer or kinder. “Cowards” (like Armin or Sasha) can become “brave”, but they’ll eventually lose most of their softness and empathy too. But that will be excused at every turn, because that’s apparently the price, the sacrifice of being a soldier. It’s “necessary” and it’s something Isayama very obviously admires. “Bravery” trumps compassion, soldiers must be ruthless to win and in the end, any growth is meaningless.

To be clear, a lot of negative character development isn’t a bad thing and “anyone can die” narratives aren’t either (though both are very tricky to pull off without losing audience investment- if you know it’s all just gonna be suffering, why keep reading?). But even when your story has those elements, you, as an author, have to have some respect and perspective in regards to your characters and Isayama has neither. He AGREES that his characters terrible actions (like torture) are necessary, because he thinks what Japanese soldiers did to Korean civilians was A-OK too...so it all just comes off as sickening.

And in a story, even if you’re trying to impress that death is random and arbitrary, that your story’s world is dangerous for everyone, those deaths should still mean something to you. the author. Otherwise the reader can’t feel their impact. It shouldn’t be easy to kill off a character. It shouldn’t be simply because you’re bored, or don’t know what to do with them- yet Isayama has openly admitted what he does. A character ceasing to matter, and then dying, has no impact. A character must matter up until the moment they cease for their death to matter.

( And lbr, if “anyone” could really die in AOT, the four main characters wouldn’t have gotten a million miracle reprieves by now).

It’s not surprising it ended up this way, though. It’s not surprising a man who has no sympathy or compassion for victims of war crimes has no sympathy or compassion for his characters and slowly drains them of their humanity as the story goes on. His love of war and domination is more important to him than human beings, and that comes through in his narrative, where characterization takes a backseat to his love of depicting war and violence, of impressing its necessity on the reader.

The characters of Attack on Titan deserve better than to be embedded in this cynical, cheap, fascist narrative. Fortunately, there are a ton of stories out there, and you can find similar characters with authors who actually care about them and aren’t openly fascist. For instance, while thinking about Historia’s arc and how good it started out, I remembered that one of my favorite narratives has a very similar main character. If you like Historia and wish she had a better narrative, I encourage you to check out the anime or light novels for The Twelve Kingdoms.

Similar to Historia, Youko is raised in an oppressive environment and constructs this entire personality around the idea of being an ideal good girl who lives for others, even though deep down she didn’t really care much for the people she was pleasing. When she’s stranded in an unfamiliar world, she slowly finds who she really is- and she’s pretty hardcore. She comes into a royal position of power too, but needless to say, it’s handled much better than Historia’s arc in AOT.

True, she’s not explicitly queer, but there’s no explicit love interest either (the anime does add a “crush”, but he disappears pretty quickly and she gets over him amazingly fast), and ton of strong female relationships in the story too, that don’t end with one party dying and the other becoming a baby machine. And it’s written by a woman who’s never openly supported war crimes, so.

So yeah, there are so many better options than Attack on Titan, and so many better ways these character concepts can be used. If you’re as disappointed as I am, it’s important to remember that. These character were failed, but characters like them can still be given the narratives they deserve.

Here’s the final part of this series:

The final reflection on Attack on Titan: How the narrative failed its potential in regard to gender and queer themes.

#attack on titan for ts #meta #forced pregnancy cw

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tyrantisterror · 6 years

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Well Made Futility: Infinity War Thoughts

I saw Infinity War for a second time and have some thoughts. SPOILERish thoughts, so, y’know, a cut here for the sake of those who care about such things.

I mean, I actually think this movie is better if you know what you’re in for going in, but I’m weird so what do I know.

So like... Infinity War is fucking difficult to evaluate. It’s a movie that does something completely unprecedented in film - while we all enjoyed joking about it, no single movie crossover has attempted to weave this many VERY different stories, characters, and (especially) tones into one coherent narrative before. It is a crossover unlike any other in film. And it’s mostly successful!

but

I know we all like to dunk on Marvel’s films because they’re popular and make a lot of money, and all of us have an inner hipster who hates things that are successful regardless of their actual quality or content, because fuck that man we’re not normies we only like things BEFORE they’re cool. But as a person who loves “genre” fiction - i.e. Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Horror, anything that isn’t set in standard reality - the Marvel movies have been kind of revolutionary. Genre films had gotten so LIMITED before Iron Man, and it was stupidly limited at that. We could accept that a billionaire fury who punches criminals could walk into a police department without making everyone burst into laughter, but we couldn’t accept that a strange chemical bath would permanently bleach a clown-turned-criminal’s skin. We could accept a guy getting powers from a spider OR a guy being really good at science but not both. We could accept a guy growing claws out of his hands, but god help you if that man also wears something other than black skintight leather. Everything had to be “grounded” and “real”, and I put quotations marks around those words because what they REALLY meant in the context of Hollywood was “boring.”

but

And then Marvel slowly chipped away at that. Not at first - Iron Man and The Hulk were about as restrained as the superhero movies that preceded them, but slowly the movies conditioned us to accept weird shit. Thor brought in Norse mythology and a certain kind of magic, although they dressed it up as “advanced science”, because we were in a transition and that was a concession they could make. Captain America took us out of modern day - a risky idea, period piece action movies are never a sure thing - and also introduced the idea of a serum that can turn you into either the ULTIMATE BEEFCAKE or a red skinned skeleton man depending on your moral compass, which is PRETTY FUCKING WEIRD when you think about it.

but

Then The Avengers happened. Before that movie came out, every conventional Hollywood line of thinking told us it would fail. Movies with multiple heroes don’t succeed. That’s why Batman and Robin sucked, right - too many heroes? And Batman and Robin, why, that’s the worst film ever! Spiderman 3 had too many villains! You can’t have more than two super powered guys in a movie - that’s just movie law! Having more than two super power guys is box office poison.

but

But The Avengers wasn’t. Maybe most of you don’t remember it because we’ve had 10 years of these Marvel movies and their success seems like an inescapable fact now, but The Avengers defied expectations by being both good AND a box office success - a ridiculously lucrative one at that! The Avengers took a huge fucking risk and it paid off.

but

Then it happened again. People assumed The Avengers was as weird as you could go. Critics were CERTAIN these movies would peter out eventually, that they couldn’t keep doing the impossible. One of these risks had to doom them. And a lot of critics looked at one movie on the post The Avengers slate - Guardians of the Galaxy - and said, “That’s the one - that’s gonna be the turd. A movie about a talking raccoon and a tree monster - two RIDICULOUS character concepts that sound more like jokes than something a studio would actually put in their action movie - along with some d-listers no one but hardcore nerds care about, all directed by a guy best known for gore-filled low budget b movies? That’s going to kill Marvel. There is no way that film can be good, much less a financial success.”

but

Guardians of the Galaxy was not just good, but it’s the best series within the franchise. Yeah, fuckin’ fight me on it nerds. (no actually don’t I’m voicing a subjective opinion in this paragraph I don’t actually give a shit about ranking movies like this)

but

Even when their movies weren’t game changers, they were still solid and fun. Whether or not they’re your cup of tea, Marvel’s superhero movies are never worse than “good.” Some of them are “great.” Some, like The Avengers, Guardians of the Galaxy, and Black Panther, are arguably transformatively great. At the very least, these films taken as a collective whole have changed the way we approach Genre Films. They have redefined what is possible - they reminded Hollywood that suspension of disbelief is a malleable thing, even if some studios haven’t quite grasped the concept yet.

but

Which brings me back to Infinity War. Like The Avengers before it, Infinity War brings different characters from many different stories with many different tones and styles and, to an extent, genres/subgenres, and blends them into a coherent and emotionally resonate whole. It requires you to have seen at least the majority of the previous DECADES worth of movies to work, but that’s not a flaw - no more than, say, the twentieth chapter of a novel requiring you to read the previous 19 at any rate. Infinity War needs those previous films to function, and to its credit, it not only uses what they built, but does so in genuinely surprising ways. You didn’t think you needed a Rocket Raccoon/Thor team up in your life, but this movie proves you did. You also didn’t think you’d see Rocket Raccoon genuinely reach out to Thor (who, to him, is a relative stranger) and try to help him through his grief, but it happens, and it’s a legitimately interesting moment that movies both characters forward in their respective arcs. This movie is more than just taking a bunch of toys out of a toybox and smashing them together (though yes, there are parts of it that are very much that - these are action adventure movies, after all). Characters develop and bounce off each other in glorious and meaningful ways. There is a weight to everything beyond the obvious, mercenary Hollywood mandate to make as much money as possible by getting fans of all these different franchises into one theater.

but

The movie even tries to rectifies some of the franchise’s most notable flaws, in particular their lack of decent villains. You could count the number of actually compelling and interesting villains from the previous 18 films on one hand. Thanos, the big bad of this film, finally gets us to the other palm. His motives are understandable but NOT justified - that is to say, you can understand why a person may believe what he believes, but at the end of the film you know for a fact he’s wrong. Thanos is a bad guy whose evil plan will destroy countless lives, but he manages not to be the cartoonish caricature of a villain whose over the top “destroy the world” motivation makes no sense. It’s nuanced, is my point. I don’t think he’s the best Marvel has offered us - he wouldn’t crack my top three just yet - but he’s miles above most of the competition.

BUT

So here’s the crux of my review. When I got to the ending of the movie - an ending that, admittedly, I spoiled for myself ahead of time, because I do that for most movies ever since I got majorly burned by Jurassic Park III when I was a teen - I couldn’t stop thinking about it, because it’s... it’s a paradox. Not just the ending, either, but the whole movie. This is a film that both does and doesn’t work. It is both an amazing feat and... and fundamentally broken.

And it all has to do with those 18 films before it.

Ok, so: if taken as its own story, that is to say, as just it’s own thing, not the part of a greater whole... then the ending of Infinity War is exactly the ending this story needed. This is Thanos’s story more than anyone else’s, when you get right down to it, and from the perspective that this movie is meant to tell his story and his story alone, the ending is the only one that would fit. Thanos gets everything he wants, at the cost of everything that mattered to him. His crazed vision finally comes true, and the audience feels the full weight of how horrible that is. That ending - that maddening, confounding ending, where almost every hero we’ve come to love over 18 goddamn films is killed with the snap of his fingers - shows us exactly why we can’t let monsters like Thanos come to power, and how even the monsters like Thanos himself are destroyed by following those mad dreams through (a point reinforced by the cameo of a long forgotten past villain, Red Skull).

However, as I said before, you really CAN’T take this movie on its own. Structurally it DEPENDS on you seeing those previous films. You have to have seen them just for this movie to make sense, and to be emotionally affected by it you must also have cared about those movies and their characters. This movie is a sum of those parts.

And as a followup to those 18 films - as a part of their greater whole - it fails. So many characters we followed and love - Black Panther, Spider-Man, every fucking guardian of the galaxy except Rocket and maybe Nebula if we count her, just to name a few - is killed off in a literal instant. With the exception of Loki, each of these deaths kind of renders their preceding journey pointless. Peter Parker was just starting his journey in his preceding film - so was Black Panther, so was Dr. Strange, so were many of the others. Imagine if Hamlet was killed in act 1 of his play - everything about him would be unresolved, and all of his supporting cast would have no anchor to the plot since the conflict they’re involved in is removed with Hamlet’s death. You’d have to start over. Other characters are farther along, but with rare exception, none of them had what could be called a satisfactory end. If the deaths in this movie actually hold true, then most of the preceding 18 movies have been broken. They are wastes of time.

Of course, a savvy person would note that literally every character killed in this movie has been cast in the next Avengers film, due out next year. Spider-Man and the Guardians have announced movies with release dates after that one, too. Black Panther’s sequel has been announced although the release date has not. These deaths are highly unlikely to stick.

BUT if that’s the case, well... then this movie’s broken again, because now that ending has no weight. Now that ending is pointless - in fact, this whole movie is, because it’s all just going to be undone by the next. Either this film was a narrative waste of time, or the preceding 18 were. There’s no other option.

...but...

There is, I suppose, a possibility. A faint one, admittedly - I have no idea if they can achieve it. There’s a possibility the fourth Avengers film could find a way to make this movie’s weight hold while still putting all those dead characters’ stories back on track. Infinity War was conceived as a two part film story, after all, even if they dropped the “Part 1″ label come release. No matter how much this film wants you to think otherwise, it is just part of whole - and maybe, just maybe, the second one will make the first work WITHIN that whole.

I don’t see how it can, but then, I didn’t see how they could make me care about fuckin’ Rocket Raccoon. And Guardians of the Galaxy is, as I said, the best one.

If I were a betting man, I’d bet on this movie ultimately being a narrative cul de sac - a very well made, but ultimately pointless entry that is invalidated by what comes after it. If that ends up being the case, then that’s kind of sad - but there’s a chance they may make it work after all, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s not to bet against Marvel.

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