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rosethornewrites · 10 months

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Fic: the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break, ch. 24

Additional Tags: Pre-Slash, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Secrets, Crying, Masks, Soulmates, Truth, Self-Esteem Issues, Regret, It was supposed to be a one-shot, Fix-It, Eventual Relationships, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, wwx needs a hug, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Filial Piety, Handfasting, Phobias, Sleeping Together, Fear, Panic Attacks, Love Confessions, Getting Together, First Kiss, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Family, and they were married, Bathing/Washing, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Feels, Sex Education, Implied Sexual Content, First Time, Aftercare, Morning After, Afterglow, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Hand Jobs, Chronic Pain, Biting, Conversations, Self-Sacrifice, POV Third Person, POV Lan WangJi, Bugs & Insects, Adoption, Ancestors, Ancestor Veneration, Golden Core Reveal, Top Lan Wangji | Lan Zhan/Bottom Wei Wuxian | Wei Ying, First Time Blow Jobs, Multiple Orgasms, Switching, sex-related injury, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī Stays at the Burial Mounds, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī is a Wèi, Good Sibling Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Disability, Scheming Niè Huáisāng, Disabled Character

Summary: Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan arrive, with unexpected results.

Notes: See end

AO3 link

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

———————

Once the meal is complete, the rest of the Wei family trickling out, including Popo and a reluctant A-Yuan, Lan Wangji presses the talisman book into Wei Ying’s hands so he can present it to Xiongzhang. His husband smiles in gratitude.

“Lan Zhan helped with this because his calligraphy is a lot better than mine,” Wei Ying says. “These are talismans I developed to help deal with different forms of resentful energy, in terms of how to remove it safely.”

Xiongzhang is already flipping through the book, Nie Mingjue beside him and also reading over his shoulder. Jiang Wanyin stands for a better look.

“Different forms?” Nie Huaisang asks. “Isn’t it all just resentful energy?”

Wei Ying shakes his head, adopting something of the air of a scholar, but he’s clearly a little restrained, perhaps still reluctant to discuss his cultivation, fearing judgment.

“It’s dependent on a variety of factors, including the emotion powering the resentment and what ‘vessel’ the resentment inhabits, if any—like you have to handle yao, mo, gui, and guai differently, but it’s even more complex than that basic categorization because of the different factors.”

He’s referring to the differences between resentful creatures, and it reminds Lan Wangji of the disastrous conversion between his husband and his uncle during the lectures at the Cloud Recesses. Wei Ying has been exploring the different ways such creatures should be classified, and has started to identify factors that complicate that classification.

The research is groundbreaking, as few have ever studied resentment for reasons other than gaining power, Wei Ying trying to make the best of his situation by improving cultivation knowledge. Lan Wangji has had the opportunity to read his notes as he transcribed them, and he is endlessly amazed by his brilliance.

“You can pull resentment from objects?” Nie Mingjue asks, his expression inscrutable.

The attention makes Wei Ying shrink a little in his seat, and Lan Wangji takes his hand, squeezing it to reassure him. His hesitance to discuss his cultivation is palpable, and partly his fault for having judged him without listening, even if it was out of concern.

“Often each case requires a slightly different solution, but I can generally figure it out, given time. Some objects can be intrinsically connected to the resentment, while others are simply inhabited by it at random.”

Nie Mingjue considers that and nods, keeping whatever thoughts he has to himself and going back to perusing the book as the next page is turned.

“Truly, Wuxian, these are revolutionary, almost too much for a dowry,” Xiongzhang says finally.

“It’s dowry for Lan Zhan, so if anything it’s far too little,” Wei Ying replies with a laugh.

Lan Wangji’s ears heat at his husband’s regard for him, but he also worries Wei Ying is too self-effacing and doesn’t credit his own brilliance enough—Xiongzhang’s assessment of them isn’t overblown; these talismans are truly priceless in their genius and usefulness.

“Wei Ying’s worth cannot be quantified,” he tells him seriously.

He is gratified when Wei Ying blushes deeply and hides his face, overly dramatic as he tends to be when complimented sincerely, something that he never finds boring.

“Hanguang-Jun, spare your poor husband. Your sincerity is too much,” he murmurs.

“Since when have you been shy at compliments?” Jiang Wanyin asks, amused.

Wei Ying only responds by sticking out his tongue, and his brother rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“I have made a separate copy of the book for Wei Ying to keep, which may eventually be placed in the library at Lotus Pier,” Lan Wangji tells Jiang Wanyin, ignoring their antics.

He receives a nod of thanks, the Jiang sect leader’s attention already caught when Xiongzhang turns another page, the talismans drawing attention.

“Wei-xiong, we finished the rest of the yuefu,” Nie Huaisang comments, not as riveted by the book of talismans as the others. “Your baihua is better than mine and Wei Ning’s, so you should go over it to make sure it’s right.”

Wei Ning ducks his head at the acknowledgment of his help, shy, and Wei Qing nods her thanks to Nie Huaisang for including her brother. There was concern that he would not be accepted by their visitors, which would cause issues with any swearing of siblinghood, but it’s clear by how Nie Huaisang treats him, giving him back some dignity through not only including him, but also cleaning up his appearance so he once again looks like a young master, that their worries were needless.

Nie Huaisang pulls out the sheaf of parchment containing the poem and sets it in front of Wei Ying with a flourish, clearly proud of his work, and Wei Ying shifts through them until he finds the spot he read last. Wei Ning helpfully brings out an inkstone and brush for him to use if he needs to make changes.

While the respective sect leaders pore over the book of talismans, the rest of them peruse the draft, Wei Ying correcting the baihua as he goes, and once rewriting an entire line in a way that makes it fit the yuefu more organically.

“Nie-xiong, I can’t adopt all the street kids in Yiling,” he says emphatically, though his tone betrays him. “I mean, we can feed them now, at least, but what about when it comes time to move to Lotus Pier?”

“The sect needs people,” Jiang Wanyin cuts in before Nie Huaisang can speak, barely looking up from the book. “You don’t have to adopt them as your kids, just as Wei if they want your name. The ones who have the aptitude can become cultivators, and the others we’ll find a place for. There’s room here now for them, and you and Lan Wangji can start their education.”

Wei Ying stares at him, clearly flummoxed, but Lan Wangji knows this is something his husband would love to do—to give children like himself a home so they won’t have to live in the streets and fight dogs for food.

Nie Huaisang clears his throat pointedly.

“Wei-xiong, it will help with your image. No one will believe the Jin rumors, especially with a gaggle of kids hanging off you.”

“Unless they say we eat them or that I use them in some sort of dark rituals,” Wei Ying mutters darkly. “I’ve heard worse said about the Yiling Patriarch.”

Lan Wangji hates that those rumors exist. They are such an anathema to everything that is Wei Ying, beyond insulting almost to the point of blasphemy against his soul.

“You well know no one will notice the disappearance of street children, so there will be time. By the time it’s noticed enough, I’ll be able to take care of any rumors,” Nie Huaisang says, a determined twist to his lips. “A war without fighting is something I can handle, particularly if it subdues our enemies with less turmoil.”

Nie Mingjue drags his attention from the book to study his younger brother, clearly reassessing him, something Nie Huaisang doesn’t even notice, instead leaning over the table, absorbed in reading the changes Wei Ying has made to the yuefu so far.

“Now that we have enough supplies, I can start a clinic,” Wei Qing adds. “That should sow more goodwill, and we can bring meals for the street children.”

“That’ll work better than anything else—they’ll be wary, so it’ll take time,” Wei Ying says distantly, his gaze unfocused.

Lan Wangji can only assume he is thinking about his own childhood, surviving alone for years, and he remembers the scars from dog bites on Wei Ying’s legs. He offers what comfort he can, placing a comforting hand on his back, and is pleased when his husband relaxes at his touch.

Eventually Xiongzhang and Nie Mingjue wander off with Wei Qing to visit some of the warded areas and discuss future night hunts in the Burial Mounds, and Jiang Wanyin tags along—likely he will also send juniors to night hunt, but he’s really accompanying Wei Qing.

Nie Zonghui stays with Nie Huaisang, but generally stays out of the yuefu discussion except when it involves cultivation; at one point he and Wei Ying have a theoretical conversation about yin energy that ultimately adds nothing to the manuscript. Lan Wangji readily admits it is beyond his understanding, and Nie Huaisang spends the entire conversation looking as lost as Lan Wangji feels, though he is pleased the Nie first disciple isn’t balking at such a discussion or treating Wei Ying with the disdain he’s seen far too many of the gentry levy toward him.

The review and discussion of the yuefu comes to an end less than a ke before the others rejoin them, at which point Nie Huaisang dramatically announces the more interesting changes, largely to gloat over the debates he won.

Xiongzhang at least feigns interest, while Nie Mingjue shakes his head at his didi’s antics, but it’s rather a relief when Wei Ying and Wei Ning both jolt slightly. Not only does he prefer not to have the last few hours rehashed, but he is anxious for the swearing ceremony, if only for the sense that, with that complete, they will be that much closer to bringing Wei Ying home.

Jiang Wanyin seems to understand a moment later, asking “Jie?”

Wei Ying smiles, almost too bright, as though he too is feeling the weight of it all, and Lan Wangji takes his arm to urge him to his feet, letting the gesture remind his husband that he faces nothing alone now.

The Nies and Xiongzhang decide against accompanying them to the base of the Burial Mounds, allowing Wei Ying time to collect himself while accompanied by those he has learned to trust to help him.

Jin Zixuan, surprisingly, is not dressed in gold, but a robe of soft purple with embroidered pink peonies on the hems of the collar and sleeves, a nod to his Jin heritage in the peonies and their color, but also to the Jiang in the color of the robe. Jiang Yanli is wearing a pink robe in the Jin hue embroidered with purple lotuses, an interesting counterbalance to her husband. It is perhaps a nod to visiting the bride’s home and the joining of family, but also one that allows them to stand out a bit less, perhaps looking like late-leaving Jiang wedding guests. They are accompanied by a contingent of Jiang cultivators, as well as a carriage drawn by a duo of nervous-looking horses, which will need to be hidden near the base of the Burial Mounds from any prying eyes.

As soon as they come into view, Jiang Yanli rushes through the ward to her siblings, fussing over Wei Ying’s health, though he has to disentangle himself to key Jin Zixuan through the wards. The latter bows in greeting, and he returns the gesture a bit awkwardly. Some of the Jiang disciples also need to be keyed in.

Once inside, Jin Zixuan only takes notice of Wei Qing and Wei Ning when Wei Ying introduces them, all eyes for his wife, and he bows to them to greet them as well as Lan Wangji and Jiang Wanyin.

Jiang Wanyin passes orders to his men, and Wei Ying tells them where the horses can be tethered.

“It’s where we kept the horses from the labor camp before we sold them,” he says, glancing at Jin Zixuan to gauge his reaction as the Jiang disciples handle unhitching the animals and unloading a number of qiankun pouches from the carriage.

Jin Zixuan simply nods, clearly unconcerned with the matter. Likely the fate of the horses was an afterthought, given the situation.

While they make the trek up to the settlement, Jin Zixuan thanks the siblings for rescuing and protecting Jiang Yanli and her brothers, outright acknowledging the debt, and even apologizing for his sect’s role in Wei Ning’s death.

“There is quite a bit I have been kept in the dark about,” Jin Zixuan says. “A-Li has asked me to discard my preconceptions and see the truth for myself. The rumors about Wei Wuxian have seemed a stretch at best, anyway.”

Wei Ying glances at him, clearly nonplussed since his main interactions with Jin Zixuan have involved physical violence.

“You’ve hit me, but I deserved it both times, and what any of us did during the Sunshot Campaign shouldn’t count against us,” Jin Zixuan explains when he sees the expression. “Except the noble acts of We— er, Wei Qing and Wei Qionglin, of course, but the things we had to do in wartime, to defeat Wen Ruohan…”

He breaks off with a shake of his head.

“We all did what we had to do,” Jiang Wanyin says, taking over. “And we’ll be discussing more about the why at the settlement.”

Lan Wangji catches Wei Ying’s shoulder when he stumbles over a root, keeping him from falling, and Wei Qing elbows Jiang Wanyin none too gently.

“You lot can handle that—Wei Wuxian needs his treatment, and we can reconvene at dinner.”

Blessedly, while Jin Zixuan looks curious, he seems to know better than to pry, and the rest of the trek is spent in an awkward silence.

As soon as they are within view of the settlement, A-Yuan breaks away from Popo and runs to greet his guma, but when he catches sight of their new visitor he skids to a halt so quickly he falls down, wailing and calling “Diedie, Baba!”

While the others freeze, clearly taken aback by A-Yuan’s reaction, Lan Wangji springs forward with Wei Ying to pick up their son before his husband can hurt himself. The child clings to them, sobbing and babbling about the “bad forehead man,” and he realizes he must be referring to the zhushazhi that identifies Jin Zixuan as a member of the Jin clan.

When Jin Zixuan tries to move closer and speak, clearly hoping to calm A-Yuan, the wails turn to terrified shrieks, so full of deep-seated terror that it hurts Lan Wangji to witness. He can see Wei Ying is similarly affected.

Wei Qing joins them while they try to calm him, Wei Ying trying to remind him that this is the good Jin that Jiang Yanli married, her lips pursed as she assesses the situation. A-Yuan is too beyond comfort for the words to reach him, in near-hysterics, and seeing him so distressed makes it clear how badly he was traumatized by what the survivors experienced in the labor camp.

Ultimately, she turns to Jiang Yanli and mimes wiping the vermillion mark away, and blessedly she does so after consulting with Jin Zixuan, her horrified-looking husband completely cooperative. Unfortunately, it does nothing to calm A-Yuan, and Jiang Wanyin quickly organizes the Jiang contingent to block Jin Zixuan from view.

By this time, Xiongzhang and the Nies have arrived, drawn by A-Yuan, along with Popo. Several of the refugees also gather, their expressions sad but devoid of surprise.

“Jiang Wanyin, can you handle updating Jin-gongzi while we handle this?” Wei Qing asks over A-Yuan’s crying, her exhaustion bleeding through into her tone. “Popo and our other guests will be able to help you, particularly Nie Huaisang with the yuefu. I doubt Wei Wuxian wants to be present for most of it, anyway.”

Fortunately, this is readily agreed to by all parties, aside from A-Yuan, who has broken into a coughing fit. By the time the others have left, he’s lost part of his lunch in the dirt and is a whimpering limpet in Lan Wangji’s arms.

“Diedie and Baba won’t let anything bad happen,” Wei Ying tells the boy, even though he’s beyond hearing, having cried himself most of the way to sleep, “and Qing-gugu and Ning-shushu won’t either. You’re safe, baobei.”

Wei Ying starts to use a sleeve to wipe A-Yuan’s face, paying no mind to the high quality of the clothing, but Wei Qing stops him, handing him a clean cloth from a pocket to use instead. He speaks gently and soothingly, just repeating that he’s safe, until the child’s eyes close, his breath hitching occasionally as though he’s still crying even asleep.

Wei Qing gestures toward the cave and Lan Wangji leads Wei Ying, rearranging A-Yuan in his arms so he can guide him by a sleeve, recognizing that this has shaken his husband. They didn’t know how deeply A-Yuan had been scarred in his time at the Jin labor camp, but this has made it very clear in a horrifying and unexpected way to all present. Though they spoke to the boy beforehand to make him aware of Jin Zixuan’s visit, all the warning in the world could do nothing to prevent his terror at just the sight of the zhushazhi, so deeply had he been traumatized.

“None of us could have known,” Wei Qing says as they enter the cave, “so don’t blame yourselves—I can practically hear you doing that, both of you.”

Lan Wangji knows full well that won’t prevent Wei Ying from doing so, and it will be a struggle not to blame himself, especially as he saw the wreckage of the labor camp. They both know what the rescued people here went through, but neither of them considered A-Yuan, with the boy so bubbly and bright.

They remove A-Yuan’s soiled and dirty outer robes, and Wei Ying helps him arrange A-Yuan on the bed, nestled in blankets, his touches gentle as though the boy is made of glass, and then arranges himself nearby after stripping to his zhong yi trousers, making sure he can hold one of A-Yuan’s hands as though to remind him he’s not alone even in his sleep.

Wei Qing’s treatment focuses on his hips, and by the end of it Wei Ying is asleep, as per usual, needing only for the blankets to be drawn up around him, something Lan Wangji does as soon as the last acupuncture needle has been removed. He shifts A-Yuan to be closer to Wei Ying, who instinctively puts an arm around the boy in his sleep.

“I’ll go handle our guests, and come collect you for supper—I expect we’ll do the swearing ceremony afterward,” Wei Qing says brusquely, running a gentle hand through A-Yuan’s hair in a way that belies her tone. “I’ll bring fresh robes for A-Yuan.”

She isn’t the type to offer potentially empty reassurances, and so Lan Wangji isn’t surprised when she simply gathers her supplies and slides the curtain shut behind her without another word.

Lan Wangji is left to the quiet of Wei Ying and A-Yuan’s soft breathing. He can’t help but feel off-balance, A-Yuan’s heartbreaking reaction unsettling. The worry is unavoidable, with one goal so close to being met and yet the relief tempered now with the revelation of the scars on their son’s psyche.

As difficult as it is, he must trust in the others, and so he sets up an inkwell so he can transcribe more of Wei Ying’s notes to put the next half-shichen or so to good use, as his place is beside his husband and son.

—————

So all the Auspicious Eight are at the Burial Mounds ready to swear siblinghood. And yet a wrench in the works: A-Yuan’s trauma triggered by seeing Jin Zixuan’s zhushazhi, the vermillion dot. I did research to figure out how it would be referred to—meta on Tumblr is amazing.

This was a necessary stopping point for this chapter, as it would’ve gone on another 3000 words and taken much longer to get out otherwise. I promise this fic isn’t abandoned, just slow to update as a result of having multiple in-progress multichapter fics and my health issues.

Unsurprisingly, comorbidities popped up in the health area. As expected, treating the primary ones revealed more that need to be treated. It’s a frustrating journey, but I have a wonderful team of doctors that I’ve put together and we’re slowly getting on track to recovery. Good news: I don’t have any markers in tests of other autoimmune diseases. Just the one.

baba - dad

baihua - commoner writing

baobei - baby

diedie - dad

jie - older sister

shichen - two hour period

xiong - brother

xiongzhang - older brother

yao, mo, gui, and guai - types of resentful beings, see Lan Qiren’s quiz of Wei Wuxian during the lectures

yuefu - type of poetry, see previous chapter

zhong yi - undergarments consisting of trousers and a shirt that tends to tie closed in front

zhushazhi - zhusha is cinnabar, and with zhi it becomes cinnabar mole

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slasherbaby · 3 years

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Frank Morrison Kinky Alphabet!

Super NSFT! Read under the cut ♡

𝓐 is for After-Care

‣ If he’s subbing, Frank’ll act like he doesn’t need after-care. He’ll probably snap at whoever suggests it, baring his teeth like something feral. What he needs is for his anger to be ignored- force him into cuddling, make him drink water, kiss him and tell him he’s a good boy. He’ll fight it at first, but it won’t take long for him to completely melt. If he doesn’t get after-care, he won’t say anything out right, but he’ll feel like shit.

𝓑 is for Bruises

‣ If he’s in a relationship, he’ll wear the bruises he gets like badges of honor. If he’s just hooking up and someone starts to mark his neck, he’ll growl at them to not leave any marks. Not because he cares in particular, it’s more of a way to keep some type of control. Whether or not he’s actually with someone, though, he loves to leave bruises. Especially if he’s roughly sucking love bites into their neck or shoulders.

𝓒 is for Choking

‣ If you ask him to, he’ll choke you. He loves the power rush it gives him, how you’re completely willing to trust and surrender to him- not just your body, but your life as well. He nearly loves it as much as he loves being choked. Partially because of his self-destructive nature, but also because of the lack of control, and the relief that comes with getting it taken away from him. Either way, he’s down.

𝓓 is for Dirty Talk

‣ Frank’s less focused on having a way with words and more focused on having a way with his tongue, if you know what I mean. He swears like a sailor, though, and it only gets enhanced in the bedroom.

𝓔 is for Eating Out

‣ Put this man on his knees, his happy place is between someone’s legs. Just don’t expect to come away without bite marks and bruises on your thighs, cause you’re gonna get them. If you wanna eat him out? He’ll 100% let you, but he’ll definitely be surprised about it. He’s not used to his partners wanting to take care of him, so if you do, just be prepared for him to come in a literal second.

𝓖 is for Gagging

‣ He wouldn’t like being gagged, or being forced to be quiet in general. It’s different if it’s him and his partner being sneaky, where they both have to stifle themselves so they don’t get caught fucking in a place they shouldn’t be. But if it’s just him? No thanks.

𝓗 is for Hair-Pulling

‣ Pulling hair is okay with him, if it’s something his partner is into. If it’s just a hookup, he’ll get snippy if someone tries to pull at his hair. Instead of giving in and letting it happen, it’s the fastest way for him to start a battle for dominance.

𝓚 is for Knife Play

‣ Yes with a capital Y! Whether it’s you using the blade on him, or him using it on you, he loves knife play. One of his favorite things is to ride his partner nice and slow, but still be completely in control. How, you might ask? With his knife up to their throat, of course. Not hard enough to draw blood, just enough to be a warning. If they try to grab his hips and make him move faster, they might even get a little cut as a warning to behave.

𝓛 is for Lingerie

‣ If you wanna get all dressed up for him, that’s cool. He might make a few comments, but don’t expect much of a reaction. It’s not that he’s unappreciative, he just loves your body. That’s not gonna change much just cause you threw on some lace. Frank dressing in lingerie, however, is a completely different story. If you bring it up first, he’ll act super hesitant about it, maybe even throwing an insult or two your way, mocking you for thinking he’d be into it. But eventually he’ll ‘come around’ and agree to it, despite secretly wanting to all along. He’ll get all dolled up for you, most likely wearing it under his regular clothes like a secret, and waiting until you guys are alone before casually showing off his lace panties. If you laugh at him, or don’t have as big of a reaction as he hoped, it’ll be the last time he wears it for you. Frank’s looking for validation that you want him, he wants you to be pleased just by looking at how pretty he made himself for you. Bonus points if you shove him up against a wall and beg to have him right then and there.

𝓜 is for Masks

‣ Oh buddy, you got a mask kink? He’ll fulfill it, no problem. If you also wanna wear a mask? Even better.

𝓝 is for Neko

‣ If you come to him dressed up with little cat ears and a tail, he’ll definitely have a bit of a laugh. He’s not into it, but he is into seeing you act all submissive, so he might just give it a go. If you ask him to dress up like that, he’ll get super flustered. You just might be able to wrangle him into wearing it, but don’t expect him to be super thrilled about it.

𝓟 is for Phone-Sex

‣ He wouldn’t be into it, especially when he could just go over and see you in person.

𝓠 is for Quickie

‣ Most of the sex that Frank’s had has been quickies, so he’s not a ‘I need a bed for sex’ type of guy. Wherever works for him, especially if it's fast and dirty and leaves him limping afterwards.

𝓢 is for Switching

‣ Frank is the biggest switch in the world, but he also has a tiny bit of a preference for bottoming, though it would take him a lot to admit it. Expect him to push you down and ride you until you see stars. He won’t relent until he gets what he wants- you coming so deep inside him he’ll feel it for days. If not that’s not something you’ve talked about doing with him before, he won’t ask for it outright. But if you bring up fucking him, or if you bring up wanting to use a strap on him, he’ll immediately jump at the chance.

𝓣 is for Toys

‣ Besides a vibe, Frank doesn’t have any toys he’d use on a partner. The vibe is little and discreet, something that he can have at his disposal whenever and wherever he wants to fuck his partner. If he can’t make someone come without some help, he has no shame in bringing it out and pressing it up against the person he’s fucking.

𝓥 is for Voyeur

‣ Frank’s more exhibitionistic than voyeuristic. If he’s only allowed to watch, he’ll just get impatient and bratty.

𝓧 is for X-Frame

‣ While sex furniture sounds like it could be fun, Frank doesn’t have a place where he could store it. If tying/being typed up is his partner’s shtick, he’s more than happy to oblige. Just with less ‘proper’ means of doing it.

𝓨 is for Yes Sir

‣ Being called by titles/names in bed isn’t his thing. Especially not ‘daddy’ stuff. If you ask him, he’ll probably just get defensive and make fun of you for asking. Alternatively, Frank loves being complimented. Call him a good boy and you’ll get to see him melt. It’ll spur him on if you tell him how amazing he feels, or how good he’s doing for you.

𝓩 is for Zelophilia

‣ Don’t make him jealous, it will just end up with him feeling like shit and getting angry. If someone flirts with you in front of him, he might even try to throw hands with them. But if you flirt with someone else, he’ll just get angry and insecure before storming out.

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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years

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Childe NSFW Headcanons

May not make sense 100% due to mind still clouded by sickness lmaooo

Count: 699 words

Sex is a drug to Childe that has the same ecstasy as that of a good fight, a less threatening and less deadly alternative. It makes his heart pump in excitement, his muscles strain the same way as reflex, stamina challenged to the max against an opponent.

And honestly, in his eyes, the bed too is a battlefield. There are a lot of things taken into consideration when in the bed with this man:

He likes to wrestle for dominance and his stamina is that of a lion in heat. While he lives in the sensation, he also revels in the pleasure of his partner. It's a two-way battle, and every moment in bed will not be dull when you deal with him.

Clothes are off his back everytime, no skips. Doesn't matter if you're not taking yours off, even if it's much appreciated if it wasn't on you, but he's keeping his back out on the open— yes, back.

He prides himself victorious whenever you dig your nails into his back, the sensation tingling him and the pain edging him with thrill.

With that in mind, Childe pays CLOSE attention to your fingernails before every session. If they're long and sharp, that's cool, spicy. If they're trimmed down and filed tho, hoho, it's gonna be a loooong night.

He will make it his mission, an added challenge, for you to scratch his back DEEP with those dull fingernails and he will pound you into oblivion until you manage that. If not— well oopsie, the sun is shining now.

You may despise the scars on his back but he loves the heck out of it. Able to pleasure you like that, he'll definitely go around the house shirtless just to flex for a bit over the good night you had.

Speaking of being shirtless, he keeps his gloves on for a short period of time during your woohoo. Uh, why? Because the graze of the material when he runs it over your supple skin gives you the slightest yet most delectable shiver he savours watching.

The way you writhe under his grasp just like that, intensified too with how dim the lights are and how unexpected his fleeting touches would be—

Then he'll toss it away because he wants to finally grasp your flesh fully under his touch. Good shit.

Aftercare for child is,,, dependent. This decision lies mostly on you, criterias such as: a) whether you're conscious after sex, and b) whether you're conscious that you're clean after sex.

If you're too lazy or tired for cleaning up, he's uhm he's actually staying in you. Knotting. You're sleeping with a piece of him in you, so too uh totally prevent your juices from spilling hehe.

If you wake up aroused because of your circumstance, he'll happily indulge you. But he's honestly satisfied as is, so you don't have to worry about working so early in the morning.

Frustrated sex/hate sex barely happens, or doesn't happen at all. Tartaglia excels in strength in more ways that exceed your own, a huge chance he can punt you to the ground easily. And this knowledge, although thrilling, scares the man a lot.

Frustration, stress and anger is dealt off by finding someone to fight. He will not risk hurting you beyond what is pleasurable in bed.

Because to him moments together with you should be done out of love and nothing more.

He wants you to sleep in the bed remembering good memories, to dream in a blanket of positive thoughts and no remains of such horrible fragments.

It's always either top, bottom or switch right. So I present to you: all of the above. Childe likes to be on top, and if you try to dominate, he'll gladly be bottom— power bottom. Sorry honey, it's a battlefield, man's not backing down.

And finally, hands. He likes to either have your hands joined together during sex or your hands ALWAYS on him. Your squeezes and grips can ground him and he uses it to look out for his strength a lot: he uses your grip and noises to measure whether he's going too strong or too slow and will adjust accordingly.

Scaramouche NSFW Headcanons

Didn't see this one coming, did you? owo

Count: 684 words

Scaramouche is into show and tell a lot, and even before the game itself, he's making things slow and sensual in the rare moments that he has all the time in the world tonight.

He'll slowly take off his pieces of clothing one by one while maintaining solid eye contact, making sure you watch. And after his, it is his obligation to the same to you, hand gliding over the buttons and undoing them with slow yet precise movements.

He acts like a predator seducing his prey before pouncing. Urging. Manipulating. Soon enough while your senses are overwhelmed with the tingles of his hands brushing against your skin ever so slightly, you'd already found yourself on your back on the bed, fully undressed.

No, Scaramouche does not wear his fuckin hat in bed, don't ruin the mood-

Sex is like therapy to him especially with you. He uses it to get away from the world's heavy burdens and cruel machinations by drowning himself in pleasure enough to pull him away. And with this he brings you the gentleness he only ever uses when he muses or ploys under the enemy's nose.

He will divulge himself in all the details, run his hand over your ecstatic flesh: how your blood flows through your body, the bumps appearing as he passes by it, how your pulse quickens during such moments. If you look at his eyes, he looks distracted and far away, but he'll notice you staring and you'd know he's still there.

As one of his moments of relaxation, just like Childe he doesn't get violent or abusive during it. But it's not entirely impossible either, for he has moments where the frustration comes with him and he just needs a better, more brash distraction. Hot, steamy woohoo comes around when his idiot workmates do him under like the usual fuck-ups they are, lol.

Scaramouche... finds the most pleasure in overstimulation, from both sides. Short darling does not like to choose sides but he is very easy to flip over and top especially when he's still coming down from a high—

So while you top him and pound him while he's still sensitive, he's a writhing, begging mess. He's sputtering because of overstimulation, and you can do this over and over again until you know he's satisfied. How do you know he's done?

Ah, well, he flips you over and topping you for one last time with such a violent pace and a dangerous glint in his eyes. You dare make him putty, he'll do it ten times worse to you.

Scara likes bite marks on the first phase, the foreplay, or the slow and sensual phase. He doesn't like going to your neck, biting while on the peak of the sex, because it's both distracting and hard to crane so damn low like that.

The way he bites is like this: he'll first softly nuzzle his lips to your neck (his go-to spot for chomping), plant a lingering kiss, give a tentative lick then bite down. He will suck on it depending on how long he wants that hickey to stay, but there will always be ONE that stays for days. Sorry, citizen, standard procedure.

Another thing, Scaramouche is awfully quiet during sex. He doesn't hold back his noises but he ends up paying attention to yours more, aaaand he barely talks, whether it be sweet nothings or bitey remarks.

When you ask him about this the first time, the Harbinger would be pleasantly surprised because he himself didn't notice. But he could only offer a shrug and brush away the talk with a blush, stating something along the lines of 'pillow talk shouldn't be done in broad daylight.'

And so you made a hypothesis: he could be silent because he usually can't shut up like what the others said, right? Whether he quiets down from exhaustion or from guilt, you'll never find out.

After sex, he rests by leaning his ear on your chest, burying his face between your breasts. The sound is a nice lullaby enough to send him to sleep peacefully.

We all have our own interpretation of NSFW headcanons and this is just a personal thought upon breaking down their character deeper in a more psychological way lololol. May or may not be experienced on lewd stuff kek-

#exile.flower #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact childe #genshin impact scaramouche #fatui harbinger #scaramouche #childe #scaramouche x reader #childe x reader #what did i just come up with while dissociating while sick lmaaaao #not for children #gender neutral

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harryspet · 4 years

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dimensions | peter parker

[Warnings] peter parker x reader, dark peter x reader, historical au, royal au, prince Peter, mentions of noncon sex, physical abuse, spanking, alternate dimensions, fluff, hella angst, alternate peter is basically ramsay bolton

A/N: This is an angsty idea from an anon “Angst thought: Peter's got a girlfriend he super likes but she gets switched with an alternate dimension's version of her who alternate him was the worst to (like one of your dark Peter fics bad) and she's terrified of Peter now”. I decided to make this like a historical au but it can basically take place at anytime in history.

THIS CONTAINS TRIGGERING MATERIAL AND ADULT CONTENT

main masterlist

word count: 2.7k

Wine dripped from his lips as Peter stared at you like a hungry wolf. What a beautiful prey you were. He was so lucky that he had decided not to kill you like the rest of your family.

The kingdom you came from was made of sunlight. Sun dripped from the sun and kissed the skin of your people. You were a peaceful people. You had never seen war until you came to know Lord Parker.

In Lord Parker’s part of the world, there was no sun at all. His fortress sat on a hill between a dark forest and a storm-ridden sea. His followers were loyal but this was because the family ruled with fear. They conquered and pillaged for power and your kingdom was just another line on his roster.

You were nothing to him. Nothing except a toy.

You scrambled backward, your back hitting the headboard of the bed you shared with him. Peter’s eyes trailed over the bare skin of your legs and up to the white nightgown you wore. He loved you in white, the contrast to your skin, and the innocence it represented.

No matter how he tried to beat it out of you, that innocence was still there.

Peter pulled the sheets all the way back and your body began to tremble, “My sweeting,” His words were kind but his intentions were anything but. He had his claws around your heart and you felt any wrong move would lead to him ripping it from your chest, “I recall informing you that you should refrain from speaking to my servants.”

Nothing. There were no words on your lips.

Had Peter already diminished your fire? He thought he had mastered the art of pushing you all the way to the edge but not allowing you to fall over.

The room was filled with grays and black, the only light in the room came from a few candles in the corner. You could hear the waves beating against the cliffs from outside the window. You let the cold hit your skin, allowing you to feel something other than sadness.

Peter’s hands touched the mattress as his body leaned in closer, “You want to run from me, do you not?” You were frozen now. He cocked his head to the side, an evil grin decorating his handsome face, “That is why you asked your guard to help you escape. You thought he might take pity on you? Do you think the honey between your legs is that sweet? That any man would risk their lives just to taste it?”

Breathe, you had to remind yourself. Why had you done that? You should’ve known not to trust anyone. Anyone including those with sweet, forgiving eyes.

Peter sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the large mattress. You recalled the memories of the last few nights. On your wedding night, he had forced himself inside of you with a force you couldn’t bear. You still ached between your legs.

“I do try to be good to you. I try to be a good husband but … it seems the Gods have cursed me with anger …and your behavior lights that flame inside of me. Is it so much to ask that you be honest with me? To tell me what I hear is not true?”

Nothing. Again, no words escaped your trembling lip. Peter was starting to grow annoyed. He liked it better when you were screaming.

“Answer me!” He screamed, causing you to hit your head against the wood as you flinched back, “You dare run behind my back!” Peter pounced, unable to resist the sweet touch of your trembling flesh. You resisted, but that only made the member in his trousers grow even more excited.

Peter dragged you by the curls in your hair, forcing you to scramble forward until you were positioned across his lap.

“My lord, please! Please, don’t!”

Peter smiled wide as he held you down, his elbow pressing into your back. “There she is! I knew my sweet princess was a fighter,” He pulled up the skirt of your dress, revealing your bare bottom. He could still see the evidence he left behind hours ago dripping down your thighs, “Continue to scream for me, my sweeting. I do enjoy your voice.”

You cried out, trying to wiggle from his grasp, as he landed several hard spanks to your bottom. You could feel it turning colors beneath his touch, the burning pain flowed through your body, “Please, please, I won’t do it again!” You begged, “I’ll be good!”

He didn’t stop until your bottom was raw and his own hand was bleeding. Tears streamed down your tired face, a complete look of defeat crossed your features, and ultimately satisfied Peter.

“What is your name?”

You didn’t even remember anymore, “Nothing. N-No one. I am nothing but yours, My Lord.”

He dragged you from the bed though every step you took was like feeling fire against your skin.

“No ones coming to save you!” Peter shouted as he dragged you out of the room, past your guards, and to the outside balcony that overlooked the entire fortress. Everyone was used to causing the scene with his cruelty so no one even batted an eyelash as you were pulled around like a ragdoll.

He pressed you against the wooden railing, making you look out into the snow-covered court. The snow that was now soaked in blood. He was in pieces but you recognized him. It was the young guard you had talked to you. Stupidly, you asked him when the guards normally changed shifts in the compound.

His legs were separated as well as each of his arms and then …. his head. His eyes were still open. “We cut off the head last,” As you closed your eyes, he pulled at your hair tightly, “He learned what happens when you try to steal my treasure. Treasure I bravely sought and retrieved on my own.”

It was all your fault.

He was gone before Peter even stepped into that room.

Your body was only protecting itself by shutting down and causing you to faint. Peter caught you as you fell into his arms.

You awoke on a soft cloud. Everything smelt of sweet vanilla, even your hair. You touched your hair and found it longer and much softer than usual. Your eyes could barely adjust to the blinding light in the room. When were thing’s ever this bright on Lord Parker’s land?

Had he finally set the place ablaze with you trapped inside? The thought of it was delightful. You even considered closing your eyes again but, the room you were in, gave off an entirely different feeling than the fortress.

You sat up in the bed and your mouth gaped as you took a look around. You stumbled as you stood up on the bed. The room was ginormous, even bigger than the over-sized bed. It reminded you of the great hall in the manor you grew up in … except it was a bedroom made of gold.

You looked down at your body. This was not the white gown you were last wearing. There were no stains of blood or tears down the chest. There was also no burning on your skin, on your bottom or around your neck.

You paused as the tall gold doors opened to the room. You stared as he entered, clad in a royal suit of blue, and wearing a smile. A smile? You had never seen him with a real smile, “Did you use to jump on the bed when you were younger?” He asked a tone you weren’t quite used to. It sounded pleasant, like there was happiness on his lips, “That was my favorite too.”

Had he slipped hallucinogens into your drink? Or was this just a nightmare of your own creation?

As he moved closer to the bed, you panicked, moving down to your knees, “M-My Lord,” You addressed him, your head tilted down.

Peter paused, taking in your appearance, and his smile turned to concern, “Your Lord?” Peter asked softly, moving towards you. He reached for your hand and, although you didn’t pull away, he felt you shaking, “Y/N, what’s going on?”

You lifted your head, facing the demon, “W-Who is Y/N?” Peter searched your face for some symbol of amusement. He thought you might be pulling a prank on him but it was now clear that something was very wrong, “Where did you take me?”

Peter pulled away his hand, realizing he was only causing more unease, “I didn’t take you anywhere. This is my home. Our home. Should I call in the physician ...”

“We don’t live here …” You looked around the large room again.

“Y/N, do you promise me that this is not some sort of game?”

You shook your head quickly, “No games, My Lord.”

“My name is Peter. I am not your Lord …” Peter’s voice trailed off, his mind racing with concerned thoughts and confusion. Peter beckoned you with his hand, “Why don’t you come with me, Y/N? We will have a talk with May.”

A trick. This had to be some elaborate trick then.

“I only talk to you, My Lord,” You assured him, “I won’t speak to anyone else, I promise.”

His eyes seemed to sadden. Sad? You’d only seen anger from him before, “Y/N, you can talk to other people. I am your husband but I do not control you. You have friends. You have a family.”

A sick joke then. You stared at him dumbfounded, before shaking your head, “You killed them. They were not worthy. You spared me despite my unworthiness.”

“I-I never-” Peter stopped himself, realizing that it was becoming useless to argue at the moment. You seemed to flinch at the slightest raise in his voice, “Walk with me, please?”

You were hesitant but you crawled from the bed, your bare feet touching the cool, marble floor. The fortress was grays and black. The fortress was soot and wood. This was a palace and the man before you were dressed like a prince.

Peter noticed the distance you kept from it. Yesterday, you were madly in love with him. You held each other through every royal meeting and you spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms. He remembered how nervous he was when Tony announced the plans for his marriage but, the moment he saw you, he realized his luck. He was even luckier that you felt the same.

You glanced around the long hallways with tall white walls and ginormous windows that gave a view of the sun over a calm sea.

“What city is this?”

As the name of the city left his lips, your heart stopped. It was the same city you were kidnapped and taken to but you saw no sign of the darkness that you remembered. Had the darkness all been a bad dream?

The woman named May attempted to explain everything to you. She noticed your uneasiness around Peter and kindly asked to have a moment alone with you. You were frightened to speak out of turn, for fear of Peter punishing you, but the woman encouraged you to talk to her.

She knew all about the kingdom you hailed from, about your family and your peaceful people. They were all alive, Peter’s forces never led an attack against them. In fact, your father and King Tony arranged the marriage between you two. Peter was a Prince. The prince of a kingdom that did not wage war against innocents.

She checked your vitals, not noticing anything that was physically wrong with you. You didn’t even have the scars anymore.

Despite all of this, the thing that made everything sink in was seeing your family. Both your mother and older brother had not returned back to your kingdom, and you were able to embrace them after believing you had lost them forever.

Peter wasn’t sure what to think of everything. So much had changed that he wasn’t sure if he was looking at the same girl anymore. He didn’t want to be a villain to his own wife. He regretted that the bond that they now shared was indestructible. To divorce was a sin and they’d both be shamed by their countries.

“I can find somewhere else to sleep tonight …” You looked up to Peter, seeing how he was trying to hide his sadness. Your chambermaids had prepared you for bed, bathed you, and put you into fresh nightclothes made of the softest silks.

“It is your room,” You told him quickly, “I should not deprive you of the comfort … the comfort of sleeping next to your own wife.”

“I can tell you do not want me to, my love,” His words made your heart pang. Love. Did Peter love you? At least, did he love the old you? “I will allow you to have all the time that you need. I do not wish to be the source of your nightmares.”

Peter had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to change that fear she felt.

“Please stay,” You told him as he made a move to leave, “I do not want to be alone.”

You had spent the entire day with your family, and now you just didn’t want to fall asleep in the silence.

Peter thought for a moment, deciding his plan of action. You couldn’t help that your breath caught in your throat as he approached where you laid on the bed. He didn’t reach to touch you, only to grab a pillow.

He laid it on the ground beside the massive bed and proceeded to make himself comfortable on the hard floor. You rolled over in the bed, looking over the edge at him, “The floor is no place for a prince, your grace.”

Peter instantly shook his head, “I do not know what you mean, my love. It feels great down here,” You could tell her was lying and a small grin pulled at your lips. He was willing to sleep on the floor just so you could be comfortable?

“Peter?”

Peter couldn’t help how his heart fluttered when you simply called him by his first name. He liked knowing before that you liked him as a person, not as an authority figure.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“What kind of things did I use to like?”

Peter didn’t expect the question, but as the memories rushed, he couldn’t help but smile, “You loved your family. You always talked about them, about your people. You wanted everyone to know that you were a princess of two, great kingdoms, not just my own. You made sure they were never forgotten.”

You continued to listen as you pictured it. You hadn’t realized they were memories of your own.

“You liked to garden. It reminds you of your time with your grandmother. You love the life you can create, the beauty you can make.”

A tear slipped down your face as you remembered the older woman.

“You liked it when we went out on the boat and rode in the bay. You liked the sound of the ocean and the sun on the skin. You hated that we kept the fish we caught. You hated how they had to die and you insisted that we give them to beggars on the street.”

You realized that this wasn’t some past you that Peter was talking about. The girl he was talking about was still you. She just had a better chance at life.

“You loved looking at the stars. You smiled for days when I showed you the telescope my father purchased from that French merchant, I swear it.”

“Peter, I-I am sorry,” Peter noticed you were crying and shot up from his spot, reaching to hold your hand, “You are nothing like him. You are nothing like him.”

“Do not cry, please,” Peter begged, rubbing soothing circles on your skin, “There is nothing to apologize for. Whatever this is, we will get through it.”

As his thumb brushed the tear from your cheek, you saw him clearly. You could look into those brown eyes and know he’d never hurt you.

Hope you enjoyed! (Also sorry, please don’t ask for a second part)

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literaryfic · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/?  Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV)  Rating: Explicit  Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Italian Mafia, (i know nothing about the mafia so this will be very inaccurate!!!), basically vincenzo & cha-young being mafia bosses in italy

 Summary: When Vincenzo Cassano came back to Italy, no one expected to see someone by his side. Or how Cha-young and Vincenzo became the head of the Cassano family. a mafia couple au inspired by a discussion with @ourgalaxybangtan @ghostrights & @whovie-reloaded

Vincenzo had been handling most of the family business since their adoptive father’s health had started to decline. As the consigliere of the Cassano family, he was Fabio’s most trusted man, his advisor, his lawyer but also his second-in-command.

It hadn’t been easy, all these years, to climb the ladder. He wasn’t a native, he wasn’t blood, and so not many people had welcomed him at first. That’s why he had to become ruthless, so that no one could deny his authority or even dare to try. He had killed and tortured many men, broken their minds and their bones, burned their flesh and cut off their limbs, ashes and screams trailing behind him. If he wasn’t proud of the blood on his hands, he was at least proud of his work. All the hours he’d spent training, fighting, preparing, scheming, studying, all his efforts to erase Park Joo-hyung from the face of earth had paid off. The scared, weak little kid was gone, buried with all his other victims. ‘An eye for an eye, and then some’, Vincenzo lived by that, and he would stop at nothing except killing the innocent. There was no doubt he was the best at what he did and anyone who did not respect him feared him enough to not threaten him. His success was the Cassano family’s success, yet he knew that members of his own clan would not hesitate to have him killed if they could. Two clear factions had formed in the past five years, those who supported Vincenzo as the next head of the family, and those who supported Paolo, his brother. Paolo and Vincenzo had never gotten along, and Paolo’s inferiority complex and jealousy grew deeper every time his older brother had to clean up after one of his rushed job. Paolo had a particular taste for violence. Whereas Vincenzo killed and tortured because he had to, Paolo got a kick out of hurting others, be it children, women or elders. He loved to assert his dominance, to feel almighty. Vincenzo didn’t think himself much better than him, (regardless of the reasons behind his murders, he’d probably killed way more than him), but he wanted Paolo to be punished for his sins. It was only a matter of time before some influential family members whispered plans of assassination and of ‘restoring the rightful heir’ into his ear. Paolo was an angry, frustrated man who wasn’t particularly good at his job, an easy puppet to control. He’d been watching them carefully but he knew that as long as his father was alive, no one would dare to touch him. Back then he had thought he would take care of them when it came to it, become the head of his family, and continue to rule the underworld. Then, the incident happened and everything changed. He hadn’t been able to sleep for weeks, his victims’ screams haunting his dreams. He started avoiding mirrors, his reflection taunting him. He barely ate anymore, and Fabio had reminded him to get a grip. So he had done just that. He drank himself to sleep or took sleeping pills, and he went on. He knew, however, that he could not go on like this much longer. He had to get out before he buried himself next to Park Joo-hyung and all the others whose lives he’d taken. He’d started to plan his escape secretly. He would wait until his father died, staying loyal to him as long as he was alive. When the time came, he knew Paolo would try to kill him. The power struggle between them would start as soon as the head of the family would die, but instead of destroying his opponents, Vincenzo would seize the opportunity to leave. He would go back to South Korea, get the gold and leave to an island, where he would spend the rest of his days. The death of his previous Chinese client was perfect timing. As expected, Fabio, his boss and adoptive father, had named him the next head of the family in his will. It came to no surprise to most members, but murmurs spread quickly, “Can you imagine? A foreigner, as the head of our family? What has the world become?”. After wrapping things up in Italy, Vincenzo promised himself to never return, throwing away the key to the graveyard of his sins. …. There’s no going back from this, he thinks. Vincenzo is still holding Cha-young’s face, unable to look away from her lips, still wet from the kiss. Her pink cheeks, her smeared lipstick, the freckles under her fondation. Her. Hong Cha-young. His heart is soaring in his chest, all the emotions he had desperately tried to silence erupting all at once. There was no point in denying it, he had fallen in love with her. All he could do now was break his own heart, hoping it would heal. …. He realises he can’t live without her after she gets injured. They’re trying to get more information on Jang Han-seok’s paper company, and this time they’re trying to prove that some of the transactions made to European bank accounts were bribes. They’re breaking into none other than the Minister of Economy and Finance, Cha Do-won’s house. Miri had made sure to deactivate the security system and cameras, and Vincenzo was in charge of securing the place while Cha-young searched for the secret ledger the Minister kept hidden in his office. Cha Do-won was making a speech right now, and they had assumed most of his personal security would be with him. Vincenzo had quickly incapacitated the few men around the house and Cha-young looked for the ledger. After a few minutes, she found a hidden drawer in his desk. There it was, a thick documents labelled 'Accounts’. Subtlety wasn’t one of his strong points, apparently. They were about to leave when suddenly, a dozen men started to raid the place. Vincenzo fought them off as best as he could, and he was grateful that Mr. Lee barged in to help. They thought they had them all beat, and so Vincenzo made a mistake. He turned his back to the door to look for Cha-young, who he thought was behind him. “Vincenzo!”, he heard her shout his name. He sees her across the room, about to get struck by a man. He rushes to her and knocks him out quick enough. “Oh my God”, she says, “Did you see that? I almost died! He had a knife as well, and I dodged it, and then I ran—”. She keeps rambling while they get out of the house and into their car, clearly in shock. She’s getting paler as time passes, and he only notices the blood that pooled on the seat when she tries to get out of the car. She was stabbed, but the shock and adrenaline had prevented her from feeling any pain. “Oh”, she says, looking down at her wound. Vincenzo jumps out of his seat and rips the bottom half of the T-Shirt he’s wearing. “I don’t think now’s the time for that, Darling.” Even in a life-threatening situation, Cha-young is joking around. Vincenzo’s mind stops, he feels paralysed by fear, the fear of losing her, of her dying in his car, because of him. He pushes those thoughts away as he holds the fabric to her wound. “Hold this, as hard as you can.” The rest of the car ride to the hospital is a blur of running red lights, speeding in between traffic and repeating “Hong Cha-young, stay with me.” Vincenzo had faced death everyday for the last 20 years. He had killed, had seen people kill and had almost died countless of time. “There’s no limit to fear”, he’d once said to Jang Han-seok’s informant. Only now, waiting for Cha-young’s surgery to be over, does he understand what those words truly mean. During 6 hours, Vincenzo pleads and begs God, the devil, anyone willing to listen (Don’t take her. Everyone but her). He makes empty promises (I’ll do anything. I’ll stop hurting others, I’ll disappear from her life) and meaningless threats (Don’t you dare take her. I’ll kill you, too). In the end he doesn’t know who answers his prayers, and what promises seals the deal, but Cha-young wakes up and he doesn’t care. He holds her hand, stays by her side, and vows to never leave her. He starts to plan for an escape route shortly after that. In case they can’t stay in South Korea and need to take off. First, he thinks of Malta, or another island. But they would need to go somewhere they have allies, somewhere with an easy access to emergency money and resources. Italy. He contacts Luca and sets everything up, a two bed-room apartment, two bank accounts, and everything they could ever need like cash, some guns, and a car. “Consigliere, will there be another person with you?”, Luca asks. “Hopefully it won’t come to that”, he avoids the question. He knows he promised not to come back, but some promises need to be broken out of necessity. He needed to make Cha-young was safe, at all cost. His brother’s betrayal had made it easier. He’d been caught in the crossfire of their fight against Babel, killed by Choi Myung-hee in order to frame Vincenzo. But they had proved his innocence, and sent back his corpse in Milan. After Fabio’s death, Paolo hadn’t been the best replacement, and after he was killed in South Korea, they’d put in charge one of their cousins who had neither Fabio’s experience, nor Vincenzo’s mastermind. The family was in a crisis, which didn’t go unnoticed by their rivals. Soon, business started to slow down, their clients stolen by the competition and their allies started to switch teams. Money ran low. For that reason, Vincenzo didn’t run into much opposition when he came back. Most members and people in their business thought he had killed Paolo after he’d unreasonably followed him to South Korea and tried to finish him. Paolo only left disappointment and resentment behind him, and so no one missed him much. What they had not expected, however, was for Vincenzo Cassano to come back with someone.

#vincenzo #vincenzo fic #chayenzo #chayenzo fic

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fanficimagery · 4 years

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‘Cause We’re Gonna Be Legends; pt. 2

Summary: Imagine wandering the Boardwalk with your friends. A group of boys catch their attention and while your friends are doing everything to catch their attention in return, they are apparently more interested in the oblivious girl of the bunch who doesn't care to bat her eyelashes at them. You. [Part Two]

Words: 9.5K Warnings: This is why I don’t do sequels. I think they’re a good idea and then halfway through I lose interest/have no idea what the hell I’m doing. But I powered through and this was the end product. Enjoy. Also I forgot to mention in the first part that Max doesn’t really exist in here which is why he’s never mentioned. Homophobic slur? It happens once, but it’s in there. There’s also a dash of spice, if you catch my drift. Lol. Implied (but it does NOT happen) sexual assault. And violence.

For a few days, your fever is up and down. Thankfully it wasn't as bad as it once was, so you're able to actually wear the appropriate clothes for having guests over. Your girls are very apologetic for not being much help, but are excited when you start looking better and even planned a night to stay in with you. Unfortunately, but fortunately for them, the night they stayed in with you happened to also be a night the boys decided to drop in as well.

They squealed when Paul sauntered in and immediately pecked your lips. Their eyes widened when Marko pecked your left cheek and Dwayne your right. And then their jaws dropped when David brought up the rear, smirking, and pecked your forehead. The room was quiet- too quiet- and the girls were surprised whereas the boys were smug. Assholes.

So instead of movie night, you answered the questions your girls threw at you while the boys went out to pick up some food after everyone but you chipped in for because Marko wouldn't take your cash. Ruby was the only one extremely impressed with your situation while the other three remained skeptical. You and Ruby tried to make light of the situation, especially for afterward when you would be able to explore your relationship with the four boys, but you knew it would take a while for Emily, Becca, and Jessica to come around. If they came around.

Ruby had stuck around for as long as she could when the boys returned with the food, but the moment the other three girls ate they quickly made excuses to leave. Sadly, Ruby followed. You weren't able to hide the fact you were hurt by their actions, but Ruby assured you it would all be okay.

It wasn't. Not really. Because when you were fully recovered and called to hang out, half the girls were quick to make excuses. Only Ruby and Becca were fine with your decisions, and made attempts to hang out without Emily and Jessica around.

And Ruby and Becca? Those two were apparently a force to be reckoned with now that they knew you had four boyfriends. From one day to the next your entire wardrobe had been altered, and though it was nothing too bad you weren't exactly stoked to be comfortable in new clothes at the drop of a hat.

So walking down the boardwalk one night, you keep alternating between pulling on your tank top in hopes it'll become looser and tugging on the hem of your shorts in hope that they'll be longer. Your jackets had all mysteriously gone missing and you were going to punch your friends the next time you saw them.

Before you know it you're coming upon four familiar motorcycles. The boys are all missing, but you know it's only a matter of time before they come back. So instead of searching for them, you lean against the railing behind their bikes and wait for them to come to you. Fortunately, you don't have to wait long.

David and Dwayne spot you first, but in the few days you've gotten to explore your compatibility with each of them you noticed that these two were not into public displays of affection. So when they greet you, they smile and nod, and make sure to brush up against some part of you as they make their way to their respective bikes. Marko blows you a kiss from where he's got Paul in a headlock and then when Paul is set free he practically beams at you.

"Hey pretty lady, come here often?" He teases as he sidles up to you.

Your nose wrinkles as you laugh, accepting his loud smacking kiss to the lips. "That was so cheesy."

"But at least it made you laugh." Paul slings his arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side, and you can't help but try to melt into his side to hide.

"Where'd your friends get off to?" Marko wonders, eyeing you up and down. "Your outfit doesn't seem like something you'd pick out yourself."

You sigh. "If they're smart they won't dare to cross my path for the foreseeable future. Those assholes switched out my entire closet and stole all my jackets so I couldn't cover up."

"Well if you ask me, those friends of yours are pretty smart." David lights up a cigarette, smirking around it before blowing out a steady stream of smoke. You flip him off.

"I could deal with it if I had a large flannel or something, but nope. They took everything that would offer a few inches of cover-up."

"Well why didn't you just say so, babe." Paul moves his arm from your shoulders, shaking out of his own jacket. The chains hanging from it jingle at all the movement and you smile as he drops his jacket over your shoulders.

You slide your arms through the sleeves, flexing your fingers from where they barely peek out. You grab both sides of the jacket and close it over your chest, crossing your arms over it to keep yourself hidden and are content when you realize the hem of the jacket falls a few inches further than what your shorts covered.

"Oh no," Paul mumbles. "I made a mistake."

"What?"

"You look so cute in my jacket." You huff a laugh but notice his gaze sweeping you up and down, and his tongue peeking out to lick the corner of his bottom lip. When he meets your gaze then, you gulp and shiver when you see the heat simmering there. "Come on. You're mine for the night." He grabs your wrist and tugs, and you stare at your other three boys in surprise.

David and Dwayne grin, and Marko cheerfully waves you off. "Don't get caught!"

You don't have time to process Marko's words before Paul's dragging you down the boardwalk stairs. You do your best to keep up, laughing, and then yank back against Paul's grip once you hit sand. "Hey, slow down! You have longer legs than I do and speed walking through sand is not easy."

"Sorry. M'sorry."

Paul whirls around, cupping your face in his hands and leaning down to hungrily press his lips against yours as he walks you backward. Your hands wrap around his wrists as you lean up on your tiptoes in an attempt to match his enthusiasm and you can't help but smile when you stumble along the way. His tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips and when they part he's quick to lick into your mouth before tugging your bottom lip between his teeth.

You moan quietly and then gasp when your back hits something solid. The moment you pull back to look around your surroundings, Paul attaches his lips to your neck. He tilts your head this way and that way so he can lick and nip to his heart's content, and down to your collarbone. Only then do you realize you're underneath the boardwalk now.

"Paul." Your hands delve into his hair, gripping and tugging when you feel him going lower and lower. "Paul!" You then laugh. He's already on his knees, face level with your stomach as he stares up at you with a hooded gaze. "All this because I'm wearing your jacket? Seriously?"

He numbly nods. "Yes. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to it."

His hands go to the button and zipper on your jean shorts, and you catch his hands with your own. "We're not having sex here. I'm not about to get sand in places it's never supposed to be."

He chuckles huskily, opening his jacket further and pushing up the hem of your tank top. He kisses you just below your navel. "No sex. Promise," he says just as he gives your stomach a kitten lick. You squirm and quietly whimper. "But I really need to get my mouth on you."

"Fine." You gulp, but then clear your throat and slowly release his hands when you realize no one's around. "But if we're called out by anyone, I'm kicking your ass after you kick theirs."

He laughs. "Deal."

Paul makes quick work of unbuttoning your shorts and yanking them down your legs along with your panties. They get caught on your shoes as you try stepping out of them, so Paul pulls those off as well. Your feet are only in the warm, damp sand for a couple of seconds before Paul's lifting your right leg and setting it over his shoulder.

You gasp as you're suddenly opened up and a little self conscious as Paul stares at what he's only heard about from Marko and Dwayne so far. One hand finds its way to the wooden column at your back and the other splays across your lower abdomen before sliding down to shield your pussy from his view. Though the moment your fingers brush over your tingling folds, your breath catches and Paul smirks up at you.

"Don't worry, baby girl. You've got absolutely nothing to be nervous about." With one hand trailing up and down the leg you're still standing on, Paul uses his other hand to pull yours away from his prize. He licks the wetness from your fingers and a whimper catches at the back of your throat as he groans in appreciation. "Fuck. Marko's right. You do taste good."

"Babe," you whine. "You need to- I need you to-"

"I got you."

Warmth covers your mound and you moan aloud, cursing when Paul's tongue then licks you from entrance to clit. Your right hand tries to find purchase on the column at your back while the other delves into Paul's hair, smoothing it back before gripping it so you can see his face properly between your legs. Teeth nip, his tongue swirls, and you can't help your thighs tensing before you're grinding against his mouth.

"Please, please, please."

Paul pulls back, obscenely licking the wetness from around his mouth as he chuckles. "You're really wet, Y/N. Do the others know just how much you enjoy screwing around in public?"

"Paul," you mewl. You try to pull his face closer once more, but he doesn't budge. Anger slowly rising, you manage to narrow your eyes at him. "If you don't get your mouth back on me, I'm gonna-" But while you were busy getting angry, you hadn't seen his hand moving towards your center. So when you feel two of his fingers tease your entrance, you pause and then moan when he slips them inside.

Slowly pumping his fingers in and out, Paul chuckles. "What was that?"

"N-Nothing. Just please. Make me cum."

"Well since you asked so nicely."

With his fingers slowly building you up and his mouth now working you over once more, you give yourself up to the pleasure and no longer care about being seen or heard.

Half an hour later, you and Paul rejoin the others, hand in hand. All three boys smirk knowingly at you and you roll your eyes when Paul refuses to let you go with any of them.

"Enjoy yourselves?" Marko wiggles his eyebrows.

Paul immediately assures them you did and you shrug, refusing to feed his ego or give the boys any details as to what exactly happened. You had a feeling they either already knew somehow or would know soon given how open they all are with each other.

The next few weeks are a bit of blur, but a good blur at that. You're a little sad that you hadn't seen your girls in a while since the boys took up so much of your time, but you eventually let it go when you realized they didn't make an effort to reach out anyway. So learning to let go, you busied yourself with working during the day and then spending the nighttime hours with your boys. You'd never been with someone who you actually wanted to spend every waking hour with, so you lived in the moment and just enjoyed the crazy shenanigans your boyfriends got up to.

You had figured intimacy with them would be weird, and in the beginning it was since there were four of them, but things just kind of fell into place after the first time you slept with each of them. Each boy was different when they got you alone, and you were pleasantly surprised each of them met needs even you yourself had no idea you had. None of them were jealous or possessive when it came to each other, but they made sure to let anyone else know you were off limits.

They'd even taken you to see where they lived and you were shocked. Given their styles and personalities, you didn't know what to expect of their living situation, but a sunken hotel was not it. But the more they showed you around and you realized they had water and generators for some electricity, the more you liked the seclusion of it all. And when you finally got comfortable being there with them, the boys made what was basically a nest for you- a mattress with numerous blankets and pillows, and sheer curtains hanging around it all. So now that you had your own bedroom of sorts, more often than not that's where you ended up with Dwayne since he was the only one who actually liked to roll around in your sheets and cuddle for as long as you'd let him afterwards.

Still naked and with sweat cooling on your bodies, you're laying in the crook of Dwayne's arm with your chest pressed to his side and a sheet covering you from the waist down. He trails fingers up and down the spine of your back, and he chuckles every time he runs across a ticklish spot that sends you arching into him with a sleepy giggle.

Just as you're drifting off, however, the curtain around your bed is pulled open and David appears with a cigarette dangling from between his lips. "You gonna stay in bed all night?"

"Hmm. You put out that cigarette and you can join us." Dwayne's hand freezes on your back and David raises his eyebrows at you. "What?" You huff. "Don't pretend like none of you haven't thought about it."

A moment passes and then David smirks. "Tempting, but the other boys are itching for a night on the boardwalk."

"A night on the boardwalk? More like Marko's itching for a fight," you muse. "He hasn't been chased off the boardwalk in about three days. He must be bored." David chuckles and flicks away his cigarette after one last drag, entering your little nest and crawling into bed so he's situated behind you. You groan as he starts to trail his fingers along your back, inching lower and lower until he's teasing just under the sheet at your lower back. "If we go out tonight, someone's gotta drive me home earlier than usual. I got work in the morning."

"What time?" Dwayne asks.

"I gotta be in the office by ten." You giggle when David's fingers walk over your waist, kicking back at him when he digs his fingers in a little. As you settle down, you sigh. "Why do I have to be an adult? You guys have it so easy here. It seems like you don't worry about a thing." Fingers cease their movement on your back, and David and Dwayne share a calculating look over your head. "Sleep all day, party all night. If only."

David smirks and hope sparks up in each of them. It couldn't be this easy, could it? It would surely take more convincing. But before David or Dwayne can ask you more about your sudden annoyance at having responsibilities, Marko and Paul are entering the main room from one of their dark tunnels they always disappear into.

Soon. We'll talk to her soon.

It's one of the rare nights that all the boys are busy and you have too much energy to remain in your apartment all by yourself. You haven't heard from the girls in weeks, even though you've seen them on the boardwalk when you were with one of the boys, but they never made an attempt to approach you even after you had smiled and waved at them. Apparently those friendships were officially over, so when the boys disappeared you had no one but your own self to do things with.

They had warned you not to wander the boardwalk or the beach by yourself at night, but you've been doing it long before you had met them so you didn't think anything of it as you headed out.

The boardwalk is busy so you find yourself heading down onto the beach where it's a bit quieter. It's lit up thanks to the many flashing lights from the boardwalk, but you find yourself wandering further and further down the beach. There's a party going on around a small bonfire and when you see the numerous surf-Nazi's, you head towards the water in hopes of skirting their group without being seen. Unfortunately, Fate has other plans.

The first catcall has your shoulders hunching. You know better than to rush away because it'll only encourage them to chase, so instead you hesitantly look over at them and offer a wave. After that, you face forward and continue walking.

More catcalls ring out and the flirtatious invitations to join them get louder and louder, which means some of them are getting closer and closer. Your anxiety spikes and dread fills you. You should have stayed on the boardwalk.

"Hey, sweet face, where are you going?" Someone asks, slinging an arm around your shoulders and turning you back around to face the party. "The fun is this way."

"Oh I'm sure," you nervously chuckle. "But I just came out here to clear my head. I'm not in the mood to party. Sorry."

"Aw. Don't be like that. The night is young!" The way he moves his free arm as he talks and the way he slurs his words a little lets you know you're in trouble. "Come meet my friends. A couple of them could use a pretty little thing like you to lift their spirits."

You make the mistake of not putting up enough of a fight and regret it the moment one of the guys around the fire somewhat recognizes you. "Hey, aren't you that girl those queers on bikes pass around?" You tense as his friends laugh and cheer. "You hoping to be passed around by some real men for a change, little girl?"

You grimace and hug yourself as if that would help protect you. "I'm not hoping for anything other than to get home. Your friend is the one who dragged me over."

"And yet here you still stand," he muses. "Sit. Have a beer before the fun begins."

"No thanks. I really should get going. My friends are waiting for me."

Just as you turn, a hand grips your wrist. "Oh, but we insist." The pressure of the guy's grip tightens and you gasp in shock.

You knew you were in trouble before, but now it's a lot more real and scary. The more you struggle to get free, the more the guys around the fire laugh and jeer. The fear in your eyes only eggs them on more and the two of the guys shove you back and forth, never letting you get more than a few steps away from them. There's a boombox playing music and the moment it's turned up to its max, you scream.

You scream for someone to help you when a couple of the guys toy with their belt buckles and promise you loads of fun, you plead for them to let you go when they pull at your shirt, and you sob when you're shoved into the sand. You attempt to crawl away, but you're quickly flipped onto your back and someone grabs at your ankles.

You scream again.. and then the impossible happens.

Something flies down from the sky, plucking the individual holding onto you before flying away with him. There's screaming, this time coming from up above, and then a shower of liquid. Your heart pounds furiously as you smear the droplets on your cheek with your fingers and then whimper when you make out its color. It's red.

All the guys who'd been so sure about themselves and what they were about to do moments ago are now screaming, being tossed around and ripped apart one right after the other. You scramble backwards, keeping low to the ground and hoping to not be seen by whatever is taking delight in their destruction.

Only one of the creatures fully steps into the firelight, laughing, and you freeze up when you recognize some of its- his features. It's David.

A whimper escapes from the back of your throat as you whisper his name in question and David's gaze snaps in your direction. His cruel smile falls and the others around the fire slowly turn towards you. Paul and Marko are bloodied around their mouths, their expressions falling when they realize what you've just witnessed.

As you slowly stand, you keep your eyes on them and inch backwards as if they'd attack you at any second. You cease breathing all together and then turn to run for your life. Only you get a few steps in before you run smack dab into a person, falling back into the sand on your ass.

"Please don't kill me!" You cry. "I w-won't say anything. I promise!"

The person squats in front of you and you realize then it's Dwayne. He's not as bloody as everyone else, but the evidence of what he's done is plain as day on his chin and down his bare chest. You whimper. "W-What are you?"

His throat bobs as he gulps, but instead of answering he asks, "What are you doing down here on the beach?"

"I- you guys just.." You stutter on a sob, shaking your head as if you can't believe what you just saw.

"You're in shock." David walks up on your left and you flinch at his close proximity. "Let me take you home."

"Why?" You sniffle. "You rather kill me in the comfort of my own home rather than on the beach with the rest of the scum?"

"We're not going to kill you, Y/N."

"No? You sure as hell had no problem killing these guys just now!" You say. When you realize just who- or rather what- you're talking back to, you snap your mouth shut and avert your gaze.

"I'll be taking Y/N home." The tone of David's voice brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You're so sure that there's no walking away unscathed from this. "You boys are on clean-up."

When David reaches for your hands, you don't bother fighting him. You feel absolutely drained and it doesn't matter if you scream or attempt to run. Whatever the boys are, you know they could overpower you in a heartbeat. But the second you're standing shakily on your own two feet, you yank your hands out of David's grasp and cross your arms over your chest.

For a second you think you see hurt flash across David's expression, but it's gone within the next blink. His expression hardens and you flinch when he grabs you by your elbow to guide you away. His grip isn't hurtful, but it's obvious that if you try to yank away from him again you won't be going anywhere.

The closer you get to the populated boardwalk, the easier it is to breathe. Your heart even calms some, but when David leads you towards his bike you start to drag your feet. "My car. I d-drove here."

"One of the others will drive it back." You frown at him, but he doesn't see because he busies himself with climbing onto his bike. You take his moment of distraction to glance around at the people walking around you, part of you hoping to catch someone's eye, but David's voice squashes that hope right away. "Do you really want me to kill whoever it is you plan to tell about what you saw? Be smart, Y/N. We have to protect our secret."

"And what exactly is the secret, David?"

Though the situation is anything but funny, he smiles at you. His smile makes your stomach churn. "Get on the bike, Y/N. It's time to go home."

Your bottom lip wobbles under his intense stare, but you quickly put a stop to it and suck it up. Hesitantly reaching for his shoulder, you then cautiously climb up onto the back of his bike. You grab onto the sides of his jacket rather than wrap your arms around his waist, and shakily exhale when David doesn't mention it and starts his bike instead.

The ride back to your apartment is a tense one and you hop off the back of David's bike before he's even cut the engine. Your arms are once again crossed over your chest and your heart starts to beat faster when you realize he intends to follow you inside.

He stays one step behind you the entire way up to your apartment door, but he remains standing in the hallway when you enter your apartment and turn to face him. "What happens n-now?"

"What do you think happens now?"

"Goddammit, David!" Your frustration mixes with your fear and you end up crying again. "I just saw you-" you pause, angrily wiping away tears and lowering your voice, "-all four of you rip apart those surf-Nazi's like it was nothing. And you- it looked like you were eating them and I- I don't- I can't-"

"Hey. Hey, shh." David takes a step closer and moves to cradle to face in the palm of his hands, but you jerk out of his reach.

"I should be running for the hills and screaming at the top of my lungs about what I've just seen."

"Yeah? Then why aren't you?"

"I don't know." You blink the tears from your eyes and sniffle. "I wanna scream and I wanna rage and I wanna cry more than I already have, but for some reason- for some goddamn reason my heart hurts just even thinking about uttering a word of what I saw."

"What do you want from me? From us? Name it and it's yours."

"Time. And space." You gulp. "I need to process everything. I'll- I'll come to you when I'm ready."

David's barely given you a nod before you're shutting the door in his face. You deadbolt it and turn to walk further into your apartment, your resolve completely vanishing the further away from the door you get. You make it to the bathroom, hands trembling as you grab onto the sink, and when you glance at your reflection in the mirror you blanch and make a beeline for the toilet.

The splatter and smears of red on your face and neck is enough to make the contents of your stomach make a reappearance, and you spew it all into the toilet. Flashes of David, Dwayne, Marko, and Paul and their demonic looking features pop into your mind one right after the other, and you heave one heart wrenching sob after the other.

You don't know how long you spend in the bathroom, but by the time you leave it after having climbed into the hottest shower you could manage, your throat feels raw and eyes puffy. You take your time getting dressed in a set of pajamas and then fall into bed with a tired sigh. No matter how much you wanted to drift off into sleep and forget everything that's happened, you knew it'd all make an appearance in your dreams for weeks to come.

For the next few days all you do is sleep, work, research, eat, and shower. Staying away from the boardwalk was probably the easiest and hardest thing you ever had to do, but being alone gave you time to think about all that you've seen and all that you've read up on. You had managed to watch the evening local news for any reports of missing individuals, but were unsurprised when none were reported. After all, surf-nazi's were riff raff and the authority didn't seem to care about them.

Sleep was hard to come by because the more research you did, the more it made you paranoid. You became jumpy, were constantly nodding off when you were supposed to be working, lied to your co-workers when they asked if anything was going on, and by the end of week one your boss had had enough. So after such a long week, you're more than content to stay in and wait on the Chinese food being delivered to your house.

Several boxes are scattered around your living room, filled with articles of clothing and various other items you don't mind parting with so you can sell for some cash.

A knock sounds from the front door and you get up from the floor to go answer it. You grab some cash along the way and readily pull open the door with a polite smile. It completely vanishes, however, when you're met with Dwayne who's holding up your takeout almost as if it were a peace offering. "Um. Hi?"

He flashes a faint smile. "Hey, Y/N."

The sound of his voice makes your heart beat double, but surprisingly not out of fear. You're actually surprised and really happy to see him, even if he looks so unsure of his presence. So you fight off a smile and keep your tone neutral. "Dwayne, what are you doing here?"

"We're all worried. And we miss you. The boys don't know I'm here, so don't be mad at them."

"I.. I'm not." You gulp and finally grin at him. Sighing, you step aside and gesture him inside. "Come in. You don't have to stand in the hallway." Dwayne hesitantly steps in and you shut the door behind him. You pocket your cash, knowing he won't take it from you, and lead the way into the kitchen. "I hope you're hungry. I'm not gonna eat while you sit there and stare at me."

There's a huff of laughter behind you, but the following question asked is not one you're expecting. "You're moving?"

When you turn towards Dwayne, you see his expression is now completely closed off. Following his gaze to the various packed boxes, you shake your head. "Oh. Uhh, no. I was let go from my job, so I plan to sell some things. I have enough saved up to pay the bills for a couple of months, but if I don't find anything by the time that cash runs out then I could use whatever I make by selling my stuff."

The relief pouring off of him is obvious the moment he realizes you're telling the truth. He sets the bags of food down on the kitchen table and immediately sets out to distributing the food equally while you grab some drinks. Then seated next to you, Dwayne says, "Sooo, what now?"

Using a plastic fork two twirl some noodles on it, you shrug. "I'm not sure. I'm obviously not running for the hills, but I'm not sure of my welcome back into the group after being silent for so long."

"Well David is angry," he says. Your eyes dart to meet his gaze, hurt settling in your expression, but he's quick to soothe you. "He's not mad at you. Not really. He's more angry at the fact that you found out about us the way you did. He wanted to ease you into it. We all did."

You snort. "Yeah. Because finding out you're all murderous creatures of the night is something you can ease someone into." You shake your head. "Unbelievable."

"Marko is more hurt than anything. He thought you really liked us enough to be able to handle the monsters we are and Paul- Paul is doing his best to be indifferent about it all. But if I'm being honest, he's in the same boat with Marko. They're both lovesick idiots."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

You gulp. "How are you feeling about.. everything?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Dwayne flashes you a smile and something in your chest eases. You grin and finally take your first bite of food. "After everything was made official between us, I saw something in you. I knew our secret would freak you out, but deep down I also knew you'd come around."

"You were that confident, huh?"

"Yes."

"Fair enough."

The next few minutes passed in relative quiet, you eating and glaring every time you caught Dwayne staring. He'd smile at your glare and then take a bite of an eggroll so you wouldn't tell him anything or banish him from the kitchen while you were still in there. But eventually you finish and pack away anything left over for a midnight snack.

Then heading towards the sofa in the living room, you curl up on one end while Dwayne takes his spot on the other end. "If I ask you some questions, will you answer them honestly?"

"I can do my best."

"That's fine." Slowly stretching your legs out, you hesitantly tuck your toes under Dwayne's thigh and smile when his cold fingers dance along your ankle before wrapping around your calf. "So I think my main question is, is what exactly are you? I tried to do some research based on your features I saw that night, but I narrowed it down to two species."

"Which are?"

"Demon or vampire. The teeth, the eyes, the.." you pause and gulp, nose wrinkling, "choice of food. I guess it can pass for both, so.."

"Vampire." You immediately tense, but the moment passes and you exhale as you relax back in your seat. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Can I see-" Before you can even finish your question, Dwayne was already shaking his head. "What? Come on! I've already seen you at your worst. Well not you, but the others. Just.. show me."

"Why?"

"Because my apartment is nice and lit, and I can actually look at you in the face now rather than looking elsewhere."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Dwayne hesitates but eventually angles his body towards you. You sit up a little straighter, pulling your legs back towards you and curling them beneath you. He closes his eyes after taking a large lungful of air and you watch in fascination as his features seem to ripple right before your very eyes.

Quietly gasping, you find yourself leaning towards him. There are a few telltale differences, but the most prominent are his now slightly protruding cheekbones and brow line, and the yellow and red eyes when his eyelids fly open at the faintest touch of your thumb against his bottom lip. He seems to cease breathing all together when your thumb pulls down his lip and you huff a laugh of disbelief at the sight of his fangs.

"You still you?"

Dwayne takes a moment to answer. "For the most part."

"Can I try something?"

He hesitates in answering again, but his resolve crumbles when he notices your gaze stays locked on his mouth. Eventually he nods and you scoot in even closer until you're placing one knee on either side of his hips and your hands settle on either side of his neck with your thumbs just under his jaw.

Dwayne sharply inhales as you settle in his lap, his hands now lightly holding onto your waist. "What are you doing?"

"Seeing if I'm really capable of having non-human boyfriends." Slowly leaning in, you're very mindful of his fangs when you press your lips against his. Feeling the coolness of them makes you smile and you can't help the urge to run the tip of your tongue against one. But in doing so, it seems to snap any restraint Dwayne had.

You squeak when you suddenly find yourself on your back on the couch. Your legs have subconsciously wrapped around his waist, your hands on his chest beneath his jacket as he hovers over you, panting heavily. His eyes are back to their normal brown, but his other features are still on display even as he does his best to make them go away.

"Should I take this as a compliment?" You ask, nails lightly scratching at Dwayne's chest as he groans. "Do you have a fang-on for me?"

"You're making this incredibly hard for me, sweetheart."

"Ooh. I would hope so." You thrust your hips upward and smile as Dwayne finally laughs.

With one hand by your head to hold his weight just inches above you, his other hand is on your waist beneath your shirt as he runs his fingers up and down your skin. He turns his face so it's half hidden by his shoulder and hair, and when he faces you again all his vampiric features are gone. He lazily smiles at you, but his expression softens. "Are you sure about this? About us?"

You sheepishly nod. "I mean I can't guarantee I'll be super chill when you guys.. grab a bite to eat," you say, nose wrinkling, "but I can try. We'll probably have to come up with a system so I'm not with you guys when you do so."

"Being with us won't be easy. We're never-changing, Y/N. You'll eventually need to be too."

It takes a second for his words to sink in and when they do you momentarily stop breathing. You open your mouth to retort, but snap it shut a moment later and frown. You sigh when Dwayne starts to retreat and the both of you sit side by side. "I- I know. Okay? It's just a lot to take in right now."

"David won't want you to take too long."

"Of course he won't." Falling silent, you reach for Dwayne's hand and lock your fingers together. Then laying your cheek against his shoulder, you say, "I guess it's a good thing I lost my job then, huh? Cutting ties won't be so hard now."

"I'm sorry we dragged you into this."

You huff. "Are you?"

A moment passes and then, "No." You laugh and tilt your head so you can see Dwayne's face. "You had David hooked the second you smiled at him. The rest of us were obviously intrigued, but it was David who made it known that your friends were off limits because he wanted you."

You immediately sit up, eyes wide. "Wait. Were you guys going to eat my friends?!" Dwayne has the audacity to look nervous and you can't help but snort. "Seriously?"

He shrugs. "How else do you think we get our meals? But you were a loose end. You knew they were with us and it'd have been suspicious. They were lucky that we saw you though. Your presence saved them."

You shake your head in amused disbelief, chuckling softly. Slowly, but surely you end up leaning against his side once more. "I have a lot of apologizing to do, don't I?"

"Maybe not. The boys might appear angry at you, but believe me when I say they're not. I think they'll be happy if you show up."

"Tomorrow then? I'll meet you guys at the boardwalk."

"Okay."

Getting ready for the boardwalk the following night is a lot more nerve wracking than you thought it'd be. According to Dwayne, no apologies were needed because he understood that a secret such as theirs was mind blowing. But he only spoke for himself and you had no idea how welcomed you'd be with the other three. So dressing to impress, you cut up a black shirt that David left behind weeks ago. You cut it into an off the shoulder crop top and pull on a jean skirt you had hidden in one of your drawers. Next are some ankle boots that had been a recent purchase and you tease your hair a little to give it a messy look.

When you figure you've wasted enough time, you decide to just bite the bullet and go. The drive to the boardwalk is short but tense, and you feel like you're going to be sick the second you're standing outside your car and locking up. So after taking a few deep breaths, you pocket your keys and head for the boardwalk stairs.

You try not to wrap your arms over your stomach or chest, so you hook your thumbs into the back pockets of your skirt. You keep your head held high, ignoring the suggestive comments, and then almost chicken out the moment you spot your four boys. Dwayne is the only one who's actively scanning the crowd, so he's the only one to spot you. He grins and you narrow your eyes, and then one by one the others take notice.

Paul and Marko immediately cease their antics upon sighting you, and David's expression closes off as he smokes his cigarette. You stop just a few feet in front of them, nervously shifting from foot to foot under their stares. "So, um, I came here with every intention of apologizing, but on the drive here I realized I have nothing to apologize for."

David's icy gaze subtly narrows. "Is that so?"

"Yes!" You snap your mouth shut, gulping, and then take a step closer so you don't have to talk as loud. "I know I asked for time and space, but two or three days would have sufficed."

"If that was the case, then why didn't you come seek us out?"

David poses a pretty good question, but you shrug it off. "I had such a shit week that I didn't even think about it. It wasn't until Dwayne showed up last night that we talked about everything and I realized some things."

Marko leans forward. "What things?"

When your gaze darts to the curly haired blonde, you smile softly at him. "That if you guys are still interested, then I'm all in." The words have barely left your mouth before there's a vampire wrapped around you. You laugh, your hands grasping onto the sides of Paul's jacket to steady yourself. With his face shoved into the side of your neck, you maneuver the both of you so you can turn to stare at David while still holding onto the clingy blonde. "So what do you say? Are we okay?"

David stares you up and down, taking a moment to gather his wits and make sure you're not lying to him. "Just like that?"

"Um, yeah? I'd like a week or so to get some stuff in order, but I- I like you guys too much to just walk away."

Paul pulls away then, his hands grasping the sides of your face as he presses his lips to yours. You let him control the kiss, parting your lips just so, so his tongue can seek out yours. However, he gets a little too enthusiastic and bites down on your bottom lip with blunt teeth, and you groan just loud enough for him to pull back and let you collect yourself.

When your eyelids finally flutter open, you find that all four boys are looking a little smug at your reaction. So in order to knock one of them down a peg or two, you smile sweetly up at Paul. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, babe."

"Do all vampires get hard when their fangs are licked or is that just Dwayne?"

Paul blinks at you in astonishment before letting you go to turn around and it's your turn to smirk. Dwayne is no longer amused, and Marko and David are not doing anything to hide the fact that their amusement is now directed at their brother.

The brunette frowns at you. "I hate you."

"You almost nailing me on my couch last night says otherwise."

Paul and Marko finally lose their composure, and you smile as the two boys have to lean on each other as they laugh. And though they're making fun of him, Dwayne finds himself fighting off a smile at how happy you seem to be. As the two of them pick on their brother, you look back towards David and step into his personal space.

The two of you stare at one another and the way he's looking at you, you feel the urge to apologize even though you said you wouldn't. But before you can utter a word, he's asking, "What happened that your week was so shit?"

You huff a quiet laugh. "I lost my job. I have some money saved for a few more month's rent, but I seem to recall an offer to move into the cave not too long ago."

David's lips twitch. "And if you really are all in, then having the apartment isn't necessary."

"It's really not."

In a move that normally goes against David's nature, he pushes off the railing and closes the distance between the two of you to capture your lips in a chaste kiss. You smile against him before he pulls back, his gaze darting between both your eyes. "Let's go for a ride. This is cause for a celebration."

Paul and Marko whoop in excitement, the both of them kissing either of your cheeks before they clamber onto their bikes. Dwayne has to walk behind you to get to his and when he does he leans down to nip your ear. You squeak and he wolfishly smiles at you, and you find your knees trembling in excitement for what later may hold.

It's no question as to whose bike you're climbing on the back of, but you do hesitate at David's side. When you take too long to climb on, he stares at you questioningly. "What's wrong?"

"I, uh, I didn't think this all the way through." You gesture to your skirt and groan when he starts to smile. "No one's going to offer their jacket, are they?"

"Nope."

"I figured." Sighing, you glance around before grabbing the sides of your skirt and inching it up your thighs so you can comfortably sit behind David. Paul whistles and you glare at him over your shoulder before climbing onto David's bike. Once you're settled and you realize no one is moving, you frown until you see Paul and Marko hungrily staring at one spot and one spot only. You follow their gaze and glance down, and realize your panties are on display with the way you're sitting. "Stop," you whine, practically plastering yourself to David's back in hopes of blocking their view.

Marko laughs. "It's nothing we haven't seen before."

"Yeah, but.. the staring. It's weird."

"Sweetheart, your whole life is about to become ten times more weird. Best get used to it." With that, David's bike roars to life, followed by the other three.

The ride to the cave makes something in your chest ease, and you find yourself letting your head fall back and letting the wind carry away your gleeful screams. David drives a little more recklessly than usual, but you know he won't do anything that will truly harm you. But all too soon you're arriving at Hudson's Bluff and are hurriedly climbing off of David's bike so you don't accidentally flash anyone.

"So what exactly did Dwayne tell you about us?" Marko wonders.

"I didn't really ask questions other than the main one," you say. "I know you guys are vampires and I'm assuming some of the folklore is true considering I've never seen any of you during the day, but I figured you'd tell me what I needed to know when I needed to know it."

"So you don't know all that we can do?"

You gulp under their suddenly amused expressions and take a step back. "No..?"

"Oh babe, you're in for a treat." Suddenly Paul is in front of you, arms wrapped low around your waist and clutching you tightly to his front. "Hang tight."

You're grinning at him until you feel the ground beneath your feet vanish and then your eyes widen. You glance down and your arms immediately wrap around Paul's neck. "You assholes can fly!?" All the boys laugh and then Paul starts to hover higher and higher. "W-Wait. Paul, don't!"

But your words fall on deaf ears and the next thing you know the wind is rushing by you. You shove your face into the side of Paul's neck and your legs wrap around his waist. Paul's laughing and you're laughing, but it's mostly to cover up your fear. And though you can't see anything, you can feel when Paul turns or dips in a dangerous maneuver to get you to scream.

But when he doesn't get the reaction he was hoping for, Paul eventually comes to a stop mid-air. "Look, Y/N." You shake your head. "Come on, babe. Open your eyes."

"I- I can't. I'm not normally afraid of heights, but there's just something about being so high and not being buckled in properly to anything that's really kind of terrifying."

"Is that why you're close to pissing your skirt?"

"Not funny, Paul!"

His hands smooth down your bottom, sliding lower until he's cupping the back of your thighs. "Come on. I promise I will never let you fall. At least not until you're one of us."

You huff a laugh and pinch the back of his neck. "You're an idiot."

"But I'm your idiot."

"Yeah. I guess you are." Slowly, but surely, you lift your head. Your arms tighten once more around his neck when you realize just how high up you are and you allow yourself to look around. "Oh." Twinkling stars and low clouds are all you can see for miles, but when Paul tells you to look in one direction you can see the boardwalk all lit up off in the distance.

"See? I'm not a total jerk."

"No, you're not." Looking at Paul now, you let your forehead rest against his and smile faintly at him. "You're probably my favorite out of the four, but after this little stunt you are not teaching me how to fly when it's my turn."

He laughs and chastely kisses you "I'll take it. Now be prepared. I'm flying us back into the cave."

You shove your face back into Paul's neck, but move just so, so you can actually see your surroundings fly past you. However, your eyes clamp shut when you see Paul enter the cave entrance and they only open when you feel yourself being dropped onto cushions. Opening your eyes, you realize you're in your nest.

You smile. "You kept it. I for sure thought you might have gotten rid of it."

"Dwayne wouldn't let us," Paul says and then guiltily cringes. "I'll admit I thought about tearing it all down, but Dwayne took to protecting it."

Your smile falters. "Well I guess I deserve that."

The boys go quiet and you awkwardly glance around at everyone. Eventually David gestures to the couches. "Come eat. While Paul was off terrifying you, Marko got some food."

As David takes his usual seat on the wheelchair, Dwayne leads you towards the couch where he immediately sits down next to you. Paul plops down on a crate and Marko distributes Chinese takeout containers.

"Chow time," Marko smirks. "Eat up, girl."

You and Paul are the only two to enthusiastically dig in, and you only become suspicious when Marko can't stop staring at you with his amused little smile. You're grateful there's nothing in your mouth because the second the words how are those worms, Y/N leave David's mouth, you lower the container into your lap and refuse to look into it. You do, however, feel the container slightly moving in your hand as if something inside was.. wiggling.

"David," you say through clenched teeth, "if I look down and there's anything other than noodles in my container, I'm going to douse you in holy water. Don't ruin Chinese noodles for me. You know they're my favorite." Marko and Dwayne both laugh, and when you finally chance a look downward you're relieved to see no worms. You sigh in relief. "Let me guess, vampires can mess with the mind?"

"More or less, but only humans."

"Duly noted."

David goes on to explain some things as you finish up eating and you find out that holy water, garlic, and the lack of a reflection in a mirror could be overcome in a private home should they be invited inside. That was good to know, especially the tidbit about the sunlight and the various way a vampire could die after being staked.

Paul puts some music on, and he and Dwayne take turns dancing with you. You end up spooking a few of Marko's pigeons, but make it up to him by kissing his pout away.

Later, you're not sure how much time has passed, you find yourself falling into David's lap. You're breathing heavy as you try to catch your breath and are even a little sweaty, but David doesn't seem to have a problem with it as he brushes the tip of his nose from your jawline to your neck.

You giggle. "Is this another one of your vampire things? I now realize you guys sniffed me a lot, particularly around my neck."

"You smell good," he says before moving upward and placing a light kiss under your ear.

"My blood?"

"Yes and no." David leans back so you're now face to face. "The scent of your blood is appealing, but there's another scent that's just.. you. I don't know how else to explain it, but you'll be able to smell us when you're turned."

"You mean you don't smell like decaying bodies?" You grin to let him know it's not really a serious question, that you're only teasing, but David still snaps his teeth at you in false admonishment. You squeak and then laugh, kissing his cheek in apology. "I'm only joking." As you settle down so your head is resting on his shoulder, you find yourself saying, "Now I'm curious as to what you boys smell like. You better not stink."

"If you're so curious, why not become half? You'll be able to pick up our scents, but you'll still be operating as if you're human until you feed from a human for the first time."

His words give you pause and you quickly sit up, blinking at him. "Half? What do you mean I can be a half?"

"Half vampire," he shrugs. You frown and David grins when you startle at Marko's sudden appearance behind him, a bejeweled wine bottle in hand. Only then do you realize the music has stopped and the only sound in the cave is the occasional cooing of a pigeon. "You take a drink of this," David says while grabbing the bottle from Marko and uncorking it, "and you become a halfling. You'll still be able to do what you need to do during the day, the only downfall being your eyes will become sensitive and you'll find yourself wanting to sleep the day away until the sun sets. You can power through it though."

You can't take your eyes off the bottle and you find yourself reaching for it, bringing the bottle up to your nose to sniff the contents. It smells fruity, almost, and just underneath that is a hint of copper. "So what," you gulp, "a swig of this and I'm a half vampire? Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Looking up and around, Dwayne and Paul have stepped closer to see what you're going to do. Everyone has neutral expressions and you realize you're suddenly anxious to join them sooner rather than later. "Are you sure you guys want me? If I become one of you, I have nothing and no one to turn to should you find yourself bored of me."

"Don't get insecure on us now, sweetheart," Paul muses. "If we weren't sure of you, David wouldn't have offered."

"Sleep all day, party all night," David says. "Never grow old, Y/N. Join us."

Sleep all day, party all night. If only.

Your words, which felt like they were uttered so long ago, bring you some comfort. It reminds you that you once wanted what they had even if you didn't exactly know what that was at the time. So now- now you find yourself almost anxious for what the future will bring now that you're so close to having what they have.

Slowly smiling, you huff a laugh and then with a faint roll of your eyes you bring the bottle up to your lips. "What the hell. Bottoms up."

The second the too warm liquid hits your tongue, your eyes flutter shut and the boys cheer all around you.

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagine #the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #david #dwayne #marko #paul

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warrioreowynofrohan · 4 years

Text

Conservatism in Brandon Sanderson’s Writings; or, Reflections on Revolution in the Cosmere

I’ve only read The Stormlight Archive and Warbreaker, so this is based on an incomplete picture, but the combination of those two have given me an impression of Sanderson’s ideas on social structures, appropriate and inappropriate responses to institutional injustice, and revolution. These ideas strike me as being essentially conservative; I’m tempted to say Burkean (hence my alternate title), but I don’t know Burke’s writings well enough to be sure if that’s correct.

To be clear: this is not a ‘call-out’ post. I personally disagree with some of Sanderson’s themes, but I’m trying to understand, engage with, and debate them, not flatly condemn them.

My interpretations here are primarily based on two storylines: Warbreaker, and Kaladin and Moash’s arcs in Words of Radiance. Both of these two storylines, and their resolutions, seem grounded in the following political ideas:

1) Injustice and cruelty are the result of bad, or flawed, people; not of bad systems. And people can change. The solution to a system that seems unjust is to improve the people within it, not to tear it down.

2) Those who seek revolution are basically self-serving and vengeful, not interested in the good of others or that of society.

3) Radicals and those who seek revolution have a blinkered political perspective, flattening societies and people into stereotypes rather than acknowledging their complexity.

1. People, not systems

For the first point: both Alethkar and the world of Warbreaker have systems that are fundamentally founded on entrenched and institutionalized inequality. In Alethkar it is the division between lighteyes and darkeyes (and the different ranks thereof). In Warbreaker it is the position of Returned, who can only exist by daily taking life-force/spirit from others - typically from the poor. Nonetheless, the narrative justifies the maintenance of both systems, primarily on the basis that the ruling classes contain good people (e.g. Dalinar, Adolin; Siri, Susebron, Lightsong); one of the major themes in TWOK and WOR revolves around forcing Kaladin to recognize that some lighteyes are good, and others, like Elhokar, have the desire and capacity to improve.

The basic political conflict is, to me, expressed by two lines following Kaladin’s (second) defeat of a Shardbearer. The first is Dalinar’s, when he states what Kaladin should do about institutionalized discrimination against darkeyes: “You want to change that?...Be the kind of man that others admire, whether they be lighteyed or dark...That will change the world.” This fundamentally rubs me the wrong way - it’s the Booker T. Washington theory of how to address racial inequality, and history has proven time and time and time again that it doesn’t work. If Kaladin did that, people would say, “Wow, that Kaladin, what an unusually exceptional darkeyes!” and continue to treat the rest of darkeyes just the same.

The second line is Kaladin’s when he refuses the shardblade that would make him lighteyed: “I don’t want my life to change because I’ve become a lighteyes. I want the lives of people like me...like I am now...to change.” This, I completely agree with - but later events would suggest the narrative may not. (And the fact that Kaladin doesn’t used his increased status in later books to push for change on this front frustrates me.)

To give another example: when Sadeas treats bridgemen as cannon fodder and their lives as utterly disposable, the problem is treated as being that Sadeas is a bad person (and facing certai. tactical constraints) - not the fact that Sadeas and the other brightlords has the power to treat darkeyes’ lives as disposable in the first place. When Kaladin is imprisoned for challenging Amaram to a duel - in effect, imprisoned for being darkeyed, since a high-nahn lighteyes would not have been punished for issuing such a challenge - this is treated as Kaladin’s fault, not the fault of a system that treats him as having fundamentally less worth than Amaram.

There’s no focus in the books on getting rid of the unjust system - by any means, violent or non-violent, bottom-up or top-down - just on having the ruling class become better people, which is expected to alleviate some problems without fundamentally altering the social structure.

2. Revolutionaries are selfish

The most open expression of this idea is in TWOK, where Moash says outright that he’d like to keep the same system but flipped, with darkeyes on the top and lighteyes on the bottom. Vivenna’s endeavours towards revolution are also portrayed as driven by bigotry against Hallandran culture. And Kalladin’s desire to remove Elhokar is shown as driven by a desire for revenge, with any larger goals or motives being mere rationalization. Likewise, the main antagonist of Warbreaker is shown as having destructive, not constructive goals.

While this is ceratinly true of some revolutionary movements, in Sanderson’s works it is shown as invariably true, with no revolutionary characters being driven by genuine justice or the desire to improve people’s lives. This provides a stark contrast with the number of virtuous characters who are shown depicting or upholding the existing social systems.

3. Radicals see society in shallow and stereotypical terms

This is a big part of the characterization of both Vivenna and Kaladin. For Vivenna, the main example is that she initially sees her people - from a largely rural nation - as fundamentally virtuous, and is horrified by the ‘criminals’ they have to live among in the slum. When she’s made to see that those ‘criminals’ are in fact members of her people, she sees them as victims tragically corrupted by the terrible (urban) culture they’ve immigrated to. She generalizes; she doesn’t want to recognize the fact that some of her people prefer life in the city - despite marginalization and poverty - to life in their country of birth, and wouldn’t want to return. She spends most of the book being gradually forced to break down her stereotypes of her culture as good and Hallandran society as corrupt.

Kaladin, for his part, continually stereotypes lighteyes. In his youth, it’s a kind of internalized caste-ism - he’s constantly disappointed and mistreated by the lighteyes around him, and he keeps on thinking that the people doing it aren’t ‘real’ lighteyes, ‘real’ lighteyes are noble and honorable and he’ll get to fight for one someday. After being betrayed one too many times, he switches to thinking that all lighteyes, invariably, are corrupt, exploitative and evil; it takes a lot to get him to trust Dalinar, and for well after that he continues stereotyping every lighteyes he meets (Adolin, Renarin, Shallan) as spoiled and uncaring even after evidence to the contrary. Even in Oathbringer stereotypes are his default reaction to lighteyes he doesn’t know. He also tends to ignore the fact of major differences in variations in status and life with the two main castes, by nahn and dahn. It’s treated as one of his more persistent character flaws, and contrasted with the more open and merit-based attitudes of the main lighteyed characters.

I’m not really comfortable with this portrayal. Kaladin’s entire life, and everything he’s suffered, have been defined and determined by being lighteyes. He doesn’t have the luxury of being ‘eye-colour-blind’ . Does he make invalid assumptions? Yes, especially about Shallan. But Kaladin thinking of Adolin as a spoiled brat and Adolin calling Kaladin ‘bridgeboy’ are not the same kind of thing; calling someone from a discriminated-against group (who is an adult of about your age) ‘boy’ has implications that both the author and reader are aware of; it is, intentionally or not, an expression of power and superiority, and it is quite justified that it would guve Kaladin a negative impression of Adolin! More broadly, mistrusting lighteyes is basically a trauma-induced defense mechanism for Kaladin, and understandable given what he’s been through. Adolin’s thinking, early in Words of Radiance, that “he was all for treating men with respect and honor regardless of eye shade, but the Almighty had put some men in command and others beneath them; it was simply the natural order of things” is to my mind far more offensive than Kaladin’s personality hostility to lighteyes, but the only main character who the narrative treats/criticizes as being bigoted on the basis of eye color is Kaladin. Adolin’s treated by the narrative as a great person who Kaladin needs to be nicer to, and the aforementioned attitude is never addressed again; it’s not part of his character arc like Kaladin’s view of lighteyes is.

In short, Sanderson’s works are strongly grounded in the idea that the quality of a society is grounded in the personal goodness of its people (including the goodness of its ruling class) more than in the creation of just and equal social structures; and that attributting a society’s problems to structures that create and perpetuate injustice rather than to the choices of individuals is basically wrongheaded. I agree with him on the importance of individual goodness and choices; I disagree with his minimization of the need to dismantle unjust social structures.

#brandon sanderson #the stormlight archive #politics #kaladin stormblessed #warbreaker #vivenna #moash

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cursed-jujutsu-san · 4 years

Note

Hi! Is it okay if I request NSFW and SFW headcanons for Nanami Kento from Jujutsu Kaisen? Thank youu and I hope you have an amazing day/night💕

Hello! Hello! (ㆁᴗㆁ✿) of course you can my honey! Nanami Kento is a brilliant man and it was a pleasure to write these headcannons for you! I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

P.S. I hope you enjoy! Come back to request whenever you want

SFW + NSFW Headcannons for Nanami Kento

SFW:

Absolute gentleman

Seriously he’s just such a gentleman that it can kinda be intimidating

Gentlemanliness + 6’½” (184cm) height = super handsome but super intimidating – especially with his stoic indifference when he’s in work mode

Its probably the suits and his sharp sense of dress style

Bit of a softie for you though

Literally all you have to do is say his name or at least start saying it and his whole demeanour softens – you make him feel more content in life

Enjoys cooking with you

Its routine for you both to make dinner together at least two to three times a week

The other times you both alternate days for who makes dinner by themselves

Whenever you make him a packed lunch – hell even when you make him breakfast on the odd few days you get up before him because you can bet your ass that nanami’s the one who wakes up super early just to make breakfast – Nanami always eats it with enthusiasm because its so yummy

Remember Nanami is a foodie so you can literally make and bake as many different types of foods to your hearts content and he’ll eat + helpfully critic it

If you go out of your way to bake something for him and bring it into work for him he’ll fluster so badly that he almost malfunctions as a human – you can bet that Gojo tries to keep you at the college for as long as possible to talk to you and eat the spare baked goods, translated this means “how long can I annoy Nanami with his own S/O?” or “What can I find out about Nanami or his S/O to friendly blackmail them with?” and the classic “Can I get them to bake something for me?”

Gets very flustered by public displays of affection – handholding is perfectly fine since you’re a couple, cheek kisses are fine but anything else is gonna make him fluster badly

In the safety of your own home however Nanami is actually very affectionate when he wants to be – on the days that you home before him, dinner already simmering in the pot as your washing up the things you’ve used Nanami will hug you from behind resting his head on your shoulder and practically melting into you

Will bring you flowers for no particular reason - when you do the same to him he actually sits and stares at them for the longest time because not only did you remember his favourite flower but you got a medium sized bouquet of them

In the evenings after dinner or on the weekends when you both have time, Nanami will pull you up from your seat and start slow dancing with you

Uses very classic nicknames for you such as “My love” or “Honey”

Wears all the tacky and/or silly ties that you buy him – seriously he has no problem wearing them because you’ve seen them and thought of him – not that he doesn’t wear the nice ones you buy him but its 10 x funnier watching Gojo wince and have to turn away at the site of a tacky tie

Starts off the day with a kiss to your temple and then on your lips

Listen you guys probably have matching Pj’s - but lets be honest they’ve probably been dumbed down over the years to you wearing the shirt + shorts and Nanami wearing the PJ bottoms + a random t-shirt

Surprising Nanami has a really warm body temperature but bad circulation to his feet – so you can imagine the mischief that happens when he puts his cold feet on you

Nanami also owns a cute pair of slippers that you bought him one year for his birthday

NSFW:

POWER SWITCH BABY

This man is a very powerful switch

Like Nanami can go from being the most assertive gentle dom to an equally but not as assertive gentle sub in a matter of minutes and it’s glorious to see

More of a simplistic lingerie type of guy – one of his shirts, thigh highs and garterbelts are his thing throw in high heels and he actually goes feral

Its literally the only time you’ll see this man come undone and potentially utterly wrecked

His voice goes from being a wonderful husky growl to a whine/moan that goes straight between your legs

Very straight up with what he wants and what boundaries neither of you cross for the other

He doesn’t want to hurt you at any point so makes sure to start of slow and soft – always asks if you remember your guys safe word in-case you want to back out at any point

Always asks for your permission/consent before doing anything

Could happily spend hours pleasuring you with his fingers, tongue, mouth and toys – you make just the cutest noises and your expressions are beautiful – watching you get off just gets him off

Throws your legs over his shoulders to give him better access to your pussy

Blowjobs are equal on the table to eating you out for him – but he does like the lust in your eyes, the drool that spills past your lips and the light moans that reverberate

Will edge you over and over and over again until cute little tears prick at your eyes and drool spills from your lips onto your breasts – but when the tables are turned on him and you’re the one that’s edging him then lets just say it gets messy

Would happily let you ride him to your hearts content, the thought of you using him as a glorified dildo just adds fuel to him

He does this thing were he thrusts deeply into you, nuzzling your neck and chuckling deeply

Likes to leave small hickies in inconspicuous places

Sometimes Nanami will keep his cock in you after his finished – it’s a fun way to start the next morning with sleepy morning sex

#nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen nanami x reader #jjk nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #headcannons #sfw #request

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whentherewerebicycles · 3 years

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You seem to be really amazing at executing planned changes with food and exercise (and also generally better psychological habits) - can i ask for advice on this? I’ve finished up studying for now and realise my body has turned into a twisted up, pudgy, weakened wreck! Exercise hurts and sugar/processed food feels so cosy and I can’t seem to get through this part where i have to feel discomfort for a while before i feel better!

What works for you? Should i read that atomic habits book you mention? I saw another one recommended - the Kindness Habit - do you know anything about it?

(I tried journaling btw - but it didn’t get me anywhere)

hello!! i can share some things that have worked for me when it comes to implementing longer-term changes in diet and exercise. these seem really simple but i think that actually making big lifestyle changes is much less about summoning up colossal amounts of willpower and much more about making small but important tweaks to the way you think about/approach diet and exercise. here are five things that have been helpful to me.

(1) don’t think of diet changes in terms of restrictions (i.e., “what delicious cozy sugary things do i have to deprive myself of today to be Good”). instead, approach diet changes as a fun little game of adding in as many good things as possible (fruits, veggies, leafy green things, nuts of all kinds, whole grains, beans, etc.). every single time you are preparing a meal or looking for a snack, describe it to yourself as a chance to be creative and resourceful, as you think about fun ways to add in small good things every time you eat. especially in the early weeks, don’t restrict foods from your diet at all. focus solely on finding a creative way to add in something healthy and delicious every time you eat. (i really liked using the daily dozen checklist when i was starting out—they have an app and it’s very satisfying and fun to see how many things you can check off the list each day.)

(2) narrate this “adding-in” game aloud to yourself. for example: “oh—what if i eat a big handful of berries on top of that ice cream?”, or “i’m hungry—ooh, there are carrots in the fridge, aren’t there? i’ll eat three carrots with hummus before i switch over to pita chips”). and every time you figure out a creative way to add in a good food, stop and observe yourself doing it, and let yourself feel a little spark of delight at how clever and creative you’re being. this sounds silly, but i swear it works! part of changing your habits is changing self-talk & especially changing the kind of running narrative you have in your head about who you are and what you do. you can change that narrative in part by repeatedly reframing the way you tell it to yourself, ideally aloud (or aloud in your head) to help you can better “hear” and internalize the new story. instead of “ugh... i ate ice cream again. why don’t i have any self-control? why am i someone who just eats like crap?”, you’re offering your brain an alternate story, one that focuses less on things you perceive yourself as lacking, or on things you ‘failed’ to do, and more on the creative, positive things you did do (“i wasn’t going to eat any fruit today, but wasn’t it great that i remembered we had those frozen berries in the fridge? that’s pretty creative and resourceful of me, and plus it’s a good way to use up something i’d forgotten i even had”).

the “noticing and feeling delighted” part is just as important. to successfully change a habit, you need to find creative ways to make the new habit pleasurable in and of itself. the more pleasure you feel when you do it, the more self-reinforcing the habit itself becomes. you might not experience eating healthy foods as intensely pleasurable (at least at first, especially if you are comparing them with the intense brain-hacking pleasure that super sugary foods give us). so don’t try! instead, focus on making the choice a source of pleasure and delight. "look at how clever i was! look at how creative i can be! look at what a good choice i made! look at how good i am at this game of adding in!” that act of stopping, narrating, and letting yourself feel genuinely pleased with what you’ve just done makes the choice to add something in pleasurable, which in turn can help fuel your sense that this isn’t about having iron willpower or about cruelly depriving yourself of delicious things, but is about playing a fun little game with yourself, creating little challenges or puzzles for yourself throughout the day and then giving yourself positive reinforcement when you figure them out.

(3) manage your environment to set yourself up for success. to paraphrase the atomic habits book: the people who seem to have the best willpower are the people who have to exercise it the least. and they have to exercise it the least because they’ve very effectively managed their environment, arranging things so that the desired choices are easy and “frictionless,” while the undesired choices or habits are more inconvenient or introduce more friction (it’s harder to get to them).

the easy starter version of this (from atomic habits): put the things you want to eat in highly visible places and/or in appealing arrangements, and put the things you don't want to eat in places that aren't visible or that are inconvenient to access. ice cream goes in the very back of the fridge, buried behind all the other stuff. nuts go in a bowl on your desk so that you can idly snack on them while you work. apples and bananas go in a big brightly colored bowl right on the counter, so that every time you pass through the kitchen your eyes are drawn to them. chips go in the bottom cupboard, the one below eye level that you don't use very often, and when you get them out you pour some into a bowl and put them right back in there (instead of leaving the bag out on the counter). make the choice you want to make easy, and make the choice you don't want to make harder to get to.

eventually, the most effective way of managing your environment is just to exercise total control over what comes into your own living space. for me, if i don’t want to eat it, i don’t have it in the house. i typically also place a curbside delivery grocery order so that i don’t have to go into the store—anything that comes into my house is something i made a deliberate choice about ordering, not something i wandered by a shelf and added to my cart because i wanted a treat. something i’ve learned about myself over the years that moderation is just not in my vocabulary—i’m an all-or-nothing person, and it’s SO much easier for me to just not have stuff i don’t want to eat in the house. no ice cream in the house. no alcohol in the house. no fried things, no chips, no candy, etc etc. if someone kindly brings me baked goods that i did not ask for, i genuinely appreciate the gesture, but as soon as they leave i give them to my next door neighbor or dump them in the trash. (SORRY TO PEOPLE WHO BAKE FOR ME!) if it's in the house i'll eat it. if it's not, i won't, and i also won't miss it.

i did do this pretty gradually at first, though! when i switched to a primarily whole food plant-based diet, i focused on playing the adding-in game for a couple weeks, and then when i started getting competitive about it i decided to use my grocery order as a way of creatively boosting my fruit/veggie/etc consumption even more, and in the process i started winnowing out things that took away chances to add in a good thing. i would say it took about three or four weeks to get to my personal ideal state of Nope I Don't Have It In The House.

it takes time, but i’d say that within a month of having only things you want to eat in the house, your cravings will be gone, at least within your own managed environment (going to restaurants or traveling DOES require you to exercise willpower, but there are ways to prepare for this in advance). the good news, though, is that 6-8 months or so of eating like this usually brings with it such improved sleep, mood, energy levels, skin, hair, GI function, etc etc that you start to be like oh my GOD why would i want to eat that horrifying thing?? I KNOW HOW BAD IT MAKES ME FEEL!! I WANT TO POWER MY BODY WITH PLANTS!!!!! in other words, the pleasurable side effects of eating well becomes positively reinforcing in its own right, while the negative effects you experience when you reintroduce sugar or fried things tends to reinforce the idea that those foods Feel Bad.

(4) it's not exercise, it's movement. i too used to hate exercise and found it extremely painful and tedious and horrible. so instead of exercising i just started moving. i canceled my membership at the local dog bar, where i had been taking my dog almost every day to let him run off excess energy, and started talking short walks with him twice a day instead. if you don’t have a dog, offer to walk your friends’ dogs—trust me they will lose their MINDS with joy lol. i think that starting to build in regular walks is the best way to get active again, because walking is typically quite pleasant and it becomes positively reinforcing to like, wave at the same neighbors every day, and see the cute kids next door running around, and notice all the ways that the trees and flowers are changing, and so on.

if you do not find being outside inherently pleasurable (sometimes i do not lol esp if i’m grumpy about having to walk the dog), tie another pleasurable activity to your daily walk. i listen to about six hours’ worth of hockey podcasts a week and i am only allowed to listen to them on my walks, so i end up looking forward to the walk because i’m desperate to hear people talk about My Guys. you can also walk with friends, or call a friend while you’re walking, which is even better than podcasts!! social walks are so much fun and go by so much more quickly. i started out just doing daily 15 min walks, and over the past couple years have built up to walking between 60-90 min a day when i’m at home. sometimes i hate/dread my walk; sometimes i love it and look forward to it. but regardless of how i’m feeling, i do it every day and if i miss it once, i don’t miss it a second time.

as far as activity goes, i think it’s totally ok to just be a person who walks a lot! but i’ve found that becoming someone who walked a lot helped change my own narrative of myself—I started to think of myself as a walker, an active person who moved a lot every day. and that made it easier to pick up other forms of activity too, or at least to adopt a curious, exploratory attitude towards other forms of movement. also once you start tracking your active minutes you tend to get quite competitive about it! or at least i do, lol. i keep a note on my phone where i write down the date + type of activity + total number of minutes I did after every burst of activity, then at the end of the week i add it all up and compare it to the previous weeks. it makes me want to do more, to beat my own numbers—or it makes me want to keep up a streak (like, if i have a five-week period where i’ve consistently hit a certain level of active minutes every week, i don’t want to break it!!).

my biggest suggestion for exercise, though, is to figure out what kinds of things you enjoy and what kinds of things you don’t, and then to spend all your time doing things you like. i HATE structured fitness classes and workout videos. i hate them so much!!!!!!!! but i love being outside, i love doing solo activities (as opposed to group workouts), and i love doing any form of movement that doesn’t feel like a Planned Workout, capital w. also becoming a hockey fan got me really interested in skating, so i picked up rollerblades and found that to be amazingly fun too (something i can do outside AND something that feels like gliding around effortlessly AND something that makes me feel closer to My Favorite Guys!!!!). you may not have passionate feelings about hockey fandom as i do, but i think it’s really just about being creative—finding a creative way to link something you don’t love to something you do love, or find pleasurable, so that you can start forging those positive associations.

i spent my first couple years of being more active just walking walking walking, and then this past year during the pandemic when i really ramped up my movement i added in longer walks, hikes, and rollerblading, and i also looked for ways to “habit-stack,” ie attaching an activity i don’t much care for (running; exercise biking indoors; doing squats and lunges) to one i do enjoy (i take my tennis shoes when i go skating and then go for a run immediately afterwards, before i have time to talk myself out of it). there are still all kinds of things i don’t do—i really don’t love strength training + bodyweight exercises yet, and i hate stretching even though I Know I Should, and i know that if i want to get stronger and faster, or build up my endurance, i will eventually need to introduce some element of structured training into my daily movement.

BUT the idea of making those changes seems kind of cool to me now, instead of Horrifying and Dread-Inducing! i feel like all the positive associations i’ve forged have made me more curious and open to ideas i would’ve resisted with my whole being not all that long ago. i found a way to make movement pleasurable, and then (thanks to sports fandom + my tendency to go down research rabbitholes) i found a way to get myself intellectually and emotionally engaged in the general concept of being a highly active person. for me, that combination of real pleasure + intellectual/emotional stimulation is what i personally need to build & maintain good habits.

(also, just shoehorning this in at the end because i like it: the “it’s movement, not exercise” mindset shift was also really helpful to me because it stopped me from thinking of exercise as like, this highly structured, regimented, torturous thing you forced yourself through for a set period of time each day, and helped me instead think of movement as something that humans are designed to do & to naturally enjoy. instead of Forcing Myself to Exercise, i looked for more natural-feeling forms of movement that didn’t feel so artificially divided from my “real life.” i think that helped with reframing my self-narrative, too! it made being active feel more integrated into my daily life, which in turn made it easier to think of myself as an active person, someone for whom movement was just a normal part of daily life and not a thing i had to psych myself up to do every day.)

(5) it takes time to build good habits, but not nearly as much time as you might think, and eventually you stop thinking about how long you’ve been doing something and you just start enjoying it (ie it becomes a genuine change in your lifestyle/thinking, not an artificial thing you have to work hard every day to maintain).

i am not yet AN ATHLETE and may never be, but i often remind myself that it took me a little under 30 years to build up a PROFOUND aversion to exercise, so it’s actually kind of miraculous that in just two years i’ve become someone who genuinely, earnestly, enthusiastically enjoys being active and feels antsy/weird/restless when i can’t get out of the house and move. every small stride i’ve made has strengthened my trust in myself and helped me reframe the narrative i tell myself about what kind of person i am and what i do/don’t do. every time i do the thing (whether it’s exercising or making a delicious healthy dinner) & happily notice myself doing it, i reaffirm to myself that i’m the kind of person who takes care of my body and mind by eating well and spending lots of time moving outside. (as a side benefit, when i spend a lot of time happily noticing things and speaking encouragingly to myself, i also reaffirm to myself that i am a happy person who treats myself kindly and who is always eagerly seeking out experiences that feel joyful and life-affirming.)

plus, the more often you do something, the more opportunities you have to have positive experiences while doing it! not every walk is AMAZING, LIFE-CHANGING, DEEPLY FULFILLING, but like, if i am walking seven days a week, that’s seven opportunities for something cool or fun to happen on a walk (not to mention seven opportunities to reap all the physiological & emotional well-being benefits of exercise!!). and if i am really conscious and intentional about noticing and actively delighting in those positive experiences, i help wire in those positive associations more deeply, and my brain/body increasingly comes to associate movement with happiness, joy, and fulfillment. as the habit of being more active becomes fulfilling in and of itself, i don’t have to expend as much energy tricking or cajoling or bribing myself into doing it.

i hope this helps!! i am literally always happy to write extremely long essays in respond to simple anon questions, lol, so if you want to talk more about your own ideas for building better habits please do share!! i can also rec you specific books that i’ve found really useful—both for just like, helping me figure out how to make big changes, and also for providing that intellectual stimulation that gets me more engaged in wanting to eat well & be more active.

(also, on the extremely slim chance that you are also a hockey fan: over in my fandom sphere, we are organizing a fun summer thing inspired by one of our fave hockey players, where we’ll be planning lots of fun fannish community things to get ourselves moving this summer. it’s going to be a good time!!)

#food #movement #mw

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shihalyfie · 4 years

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No, Miyako and Iori’s Digimentals were not switched, can we please stop endorsing that

There’s a really common argument that Miyako and Iori’s initial Digimentals should have been “switched” (i.e. give Knowlegde to Miyako and Love to Iori), and accusing the series of trying to pigeonhole Miyako into a “girl” box by giving her the two Crests that originally belonged to her Adventure predecessor girls (Sora and Mimi). While I am not ever going to say that Adventure or 02 were the paragon of feminism, I seriously take issue with this reading, not only because of the fact that I feel it’s a misreading of Miyako and Iori’s characters to consider these Digimentals inappropriate, but also because the “alternative” suggestion of swapping them is an even worse misreading of what said Digimentals are actually about, and would result in an extremely unfitting result.

I would say that the major reasons these misconceptions get drawn a lot are mostly pertinent to the following:

A common misreading of the actual meaning of the “Crest of Knowledge”

The fact that Daisuke, Miyako, and Iori’s initial Digimental traits actually kick in the most in the latter half of the series, after they get their second set -- i.e., the secondary Digimentals are actually more obvious than their first set, even though the secondary ones are the ones to get focus episodes. (For a brief example with Daisuke, his “courage” resembled reckless foolhardiness for a lot of the first half, but at the end of the Kaiser arc and the entire second half it became very clear that Daisuke was still standing resolute in the face of what he knew were increasing stakes, which is a much, much more genuine show of courage.)

If you do want to make the argument that Miyako got this treatment “because she’s a girl”, you might as well argue that she was initially built from the ground up as someone who mixes core personality traits from Sora and Mimi. But she was absolutely not “pigeonholed”, and, again, I think it’s a severe misreading of her character to think that she was.

All quoted translations are by Ryuu-Rogue (Adventure) and PositronCannon (02).

The Crest of Knowledge

The Crest of “Knowledge” is a bit of a misnomer. It’s tempting to read it as simply “knowing a lot of information”, but note that there’s nothing really virtuous about that. You could easily be someone who “naturally” has a knack for studying or information, and then takes that information to be a smart-aleck who lords over everyone. Considering that the Crests were normally supposed to be about personal growth and virtues, “knowledge” seems like a very poor and incidental thing to be valuing.

In actuality, Adventure’s episode in relation to Koushirou and the Crest of Knowledge (episode 24) made it very clear that being intellectual had nothing to do with it. The entire episode revolves around Koushirou willingly giving up his “inquisitive heart” to the point where Tentomon considers him basically having thrown out himself. Koushirou spends the duration of the episode blindly accepting pseudoscience until Bubbmon snaps him back to his senses, and the “epiphany” that powers AtlurKabuterimon’s evolution later in the episode is as follows:

Koushirou: Staying ignorant isn’t what makes me, me! Wanting to know everything is part of who I am!...My inquisitive heart...I’m sorry for throwing you away. I want to know. I want to know!

The “actual” meaning of the “Crest of Knowledge” is defined here: it’s not about how much knowledge you currently have, it’s about how much knowledge you want to have -- wanting to not only have more information, but to also understand more. This is what fuels Koushirou’s character throughout all of Adventure -- he’s the one who can’t let something go whenever something interests him, and therefore he becomes the team’s valuable analyst and the one making the most progress in understanding the Digital World.

So when we get to 02 episode 2, and Iori claims the Digimental of Knowledge, Koushirou has this conversation with him to indicate him worthy of it:

Koushirou: Iori-kun, what do you think of the Digital World? Iori: What do I think...I don’t know, I just got here. Koushirou: But you’re thinking something, aren’t you? Iori: Yes...I have my own theories, but new questions keep popping in my mind and I want to know more. Koushirou: You have a really curious mind, as I thought. Iori: A curious mind? Koushirou: If you have any questions, please ask me. We’re your friends, and we’ll always help you out.

Just in case there were any ambiguity, Koushirou clarifies the “actual” meaning of the Crest of Knowledge right then and there: it’s not about having knowledge, it’s about curiosity, and that’s what we’re supposed to be looking out for with Iori’s character for the rest of the series.

Nevertheless, this conversation in episode 2 is a little misleading, and probably comes off as performative to many because Iori doesn’t actually show that much interest in the Digital World for the rest of the series, even though Koushirou had expected him to be like-minded in this regard. But what does happen is that once the Kaiser arc passes, and we reach the second half of 02, Iori starts to entertain some very interesting questions in regards to his stubborn insistence on black-and-white morality.

His first major shake to his frame of morality is episode 29, when he realizes that pacifist principles don’t mix well with a Digimon that professes to having no desire beyond wanton destruction.

In episodes 34-35, upon seeing Takeru gung-ho against BlackWarGreymon and the darkness to levels that disturb even him, he immediately goes up to Yamato to get answers on what’s up with Takeru without hesitation.

In episode 43, he starts to contemplate his stance on pacifism again after the SkullSatamon army ultimately forces the kids’ hands on breaking their anti-kill stance.

He asks his grandfather about his father in episode 47, and, upon coming face-to-face with Oikawa in episode 47, starts actually questioning him about his motives before he learns about Oikawa’s connection with Hiroki. The framing of the scene indicates he is very desperate to understand how Oikawa’s mentality could possibly make sense. Once he learns about the connection between the two, he gets even more desperate to understand how a friend of his father, whom he admired so much, could end up like this.

Eventually, his experiences with Ken and Oikawa lead him to become a defense attorney in the 02 epilogue, which is reiterated in side material (Spring 2003, Character Complete File, etc.) to be representative of his desire to “understand the hearts of criminals”.

Iori is not Koushirou, and his curiosity is not tied to intellectual pursuits or the Digital World, as much as he very much wants to understand morality and other people. He starts off the series with a very black-and-white view of it, but the more his intuition about it starts to crack, the more desperate and interested he gets about getting to the bottom of it. It’s a very unconventional way to see “knowledge” when such a term is usually applied to intellectual knowledge, but when you see it in terms of the Crest’s actual definition of “inquisitiveness and curiosity”, it fits like a glove.

What of Miyako? Well, she’s certainly got a lot of intellectual knowledge in the way Koushirou has, in terms of being good with computers, but...that’s...about it, actually. Unlike Koushirou, she doesn’t seem to be motivated by a drive to learn anything new with it. She can be curious about things, but that’s in the same way that everyone has a least a little of each Crest virtue within themselves to some degree; it’s not a driving part of her personality, and in fact, while she’s certainly not dismissive or callous, she sometimes even has a tendency to shut down at things she doesn’t understand and ask that it be simplified for her. In that light, “inquisitiveness and curiosity” actually feels very unfitting.

In fact, Miyako’s “intellectual” pursuits of being good with computers actually have very little to do with her character or personality. She has it as a peripheral hobby, and she engages in it, but unlike Koushirou, who uses his computer work as a way to gain more information and analyze things further, Miyako’s computer work really seems to be largely in the range of hobbies for her. A lot of her work is portrayed as favors for other people -- she helps fix Iori’s family computer, she helps out Yamato’s band, and she’s helpful to Koushirou as his junior -- in fact, the most pertinence Miyako’s computer abilities have with her actual personality is how much it puts Koushirou in her high esteem. So in actuality, all of that ties more into...

The Crest of Love

The Crest of “Love” is too often conflated with the potential for romantic love, especially because Sora was involved in the franchise’s most infamous love triangle, but the name of the Crest is actually aijou, i.e. “affection”. It’s a pretty neutral word, all things considered, and it has to do with being affectionate with and supportive of those around you.

Miyako starts off the series as a bit shallow and sometimes self-centered, but the way she interacts with Iori (someone from the same building quite a few years younger with her) already demonstrates that she’s open-minded about making friends and being friendly. On top of that, Miyako immediately demonstrates herself off the bat as being emotionally sensitive (see how she endears herself to Jou and Mimi in episodes 5-6 and has a bit of a mental health crash in episode 10).

Again, episode 2 tends to be a bit misleading, especially when Sora explicitly compares Miyako more to Mimi more than herself when she guides her towards the Digimental of Love. But observing Miyako’s behavior in most of 02′s second half indicates she is actually more than worthy of her title:

Starting as early as episode 3, she brings food for people, and does this a lot. She does this partially because she has privileges when her family runs the i-Mart, but she’s very much doing it to show her affection for all of her new friends -- it’s implied she’s the ringleader behind the “picnic” idea in episode 6 so that everyone can have a bonding session, despite it (at the time) having no relevance to the territory war and the fact that she’d just met everyone. By the time of episode 33, the way she cheerfully keeps in touch with Koushirou during her trip to Kyoto and brings souvenir yatsuhashi home for everyone (Koushirou included) indicates that she’s always got her friends on her mind.

Anytime she likes something or someone, she is perpetually open about her feelings and makes it very clear that she likes such a thing. Again, see how she immediately endears herself to Mimi, and later Michael in episode 14. (14 is interesting in that her “purity” is front and center that episode, because she calls herself out for being too straightforward about her own shallowness, but it’s worth noting that the way she manifests said shallowness is by being openly affectionate.)

Episode 24 has her notice that Daisuke’s feeling left out when Takeru and Hikari walk off on their own, and immediately assign him to nursery care duty where he can have fun and feel a little fulfilled teaching them soccer. This is a very often-overlooked scene, but she had basically no motive to do this except to make Daisuke happy, and the way she looks on the scene fondly indicates she’s very proud of herself for doing so -- she knew exactly what she was doing there, and is actually far more emotionally in touch with others than she’s often given credit for.

She is the second most proactive (behind Daisuke) to bid for Ken’s acceptance into the group, and while she initially seems to take a slightly more passive approach than he does, she immediately goes into given name basis with him (before Daisuke does, even!), takes a personal investment in seeing him become friends with Iori in episode 30, has a stake in reaching out to both Hikari and Ken in episode 31 (and is self-conscious about her running-her-mouth behavior being too insensitive), and Ken’s emotional well-being and welfare is a perpetual thing on her mind for the rest of the series (see: her going out of her way to accommodate his worries in episode 46).

Although Miyako’s propensity for affection is actually quite clear throughout the entire series, I do really think it’s the second half of 02 that brings it out the most, because her way of connecting to otherwise emotionally closed-in characters like Hikari and Ken ultimately demonstrate a lot about how outwardly proactive she is about those feelings, and how integral she is to keeping the group of friends together -- there’s very good reason she’s often referred to by third parties as a “mood maker”, someone there to keep everyone in high spirits.

And what about Iori? It’s hard to argue he doesn’t have love, of course. He has a very deep and passionate love for those around him! But, again, while he does have a propensity for it, that doesn’t mean it’s a trait that necessarily defines him, especially because his stubborn and passionate hatred of certain things ends up making the others have to pull teeth a bit with him at times.

Of course, one could argue that it comes out of his love for the things he wants to protect. But, nevertheless, I would still say it’s rather inaccurate to say that the trait defines him nearly as much as it does Miyako, who is openly and passionately affectionate, actively tries to be open-minded towards new things in her life, and spends a lot of her time doting on others and her hobby work doing favors for her friends.

#digimon #digimon adventure 02 #miyako inoue #iori hida #inoue miyako #hida iori #shihameta

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capricornus-rex · 3 years

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A Shadow of What You Used to Be (13)

Chapter 13: The Favorite | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker

Requested by Anon

Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.

Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling

A/N: I’M NEGATIVE FOR COVID, YAY!!1!! That’s the only negativity I need in life lmao

Requesting to be tagged: @heavenly1927

Also in AO3

Chapters: Prelude – 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 | Previous: Part 12 | Next: Part 14 | Masterlist

14 of ?

16 BBY

Battered by the sweat and grit in this confined dojo, Irele had proved her capabilities for battle.

For every instructor that walked in to face her, the difficulty climbed as well.

But the dojo had become her sanctuary. No limitations, no rules. She can be angry as she likes, she can be violent to her opponents, and then there would be no repercussion—it was all at the expense of “training” which was basically they had in mind for her.

Now that she was conditioned for combat, the next phase of the plan laid out for her growth would come next—although it would be simultaneous to this training regimen.

Today marks the first anniversary of her training, the day that started this all. To commemorate the event in some sorts, they sent in an electrohammer Purge Trooper to fight with her. No trooper of this sort has ever come in to this dojo until today. For a second, it startled her; but then she shook off the anxiety from her shoulders and tightened her grip on a weapon she had stuck with since Day One—a javelin.

Her one display of power that warranted Darth Vader himself to pay a visit to the dojo in Nur.

“Admiral, ready my shuttle and chart a course to Nur.”

“Right away, my lord.” The admiral did not give it a second thought, he immediately proceeded with the preparations.

Everyone in Nur knew that Darth Vader was coming, and so they were all in full-blast in cleaning up the place to make it presentable to the lord. Everyone—except Irele, who was too engrossed with her training.

It was just getting good when Vader had arrived in the viewing room of the dojo—Irele’s already picking up the pace in the fight, but the Purge Trooper was nowhere near tired. Suddenly, it seems like out of nowhere, a strong invisible wave had lifted the instructor off the floor and threw him across the room. The last thing Irele saw was her hand held out, fingers curved in a manner as if choking a neck, and vibrating with remnants of that energy that had sent the trooper five feet away from her.

Little by little, her sensitivity with the Force has become more active.

She could not explain it. She couldn’t even believe it, she thought those moments were just illusions or daydreams that she had mixed with reality.

But this moment proved otherwise.

And it intoxicated her.

Although she had not mastered how to utilize it actively and consciously, she would take every chance she gets when she felt like it would come to her aid in the fight.

Vader departs the viewing room and makes his way down into the dojo.

“You fight well, child,” he boomed as he entered, causing Irele to turn to his direction, javelin at the ready. “But you’ve a long way to go if you are to master the art.”

Under his cape, Vader revealed his weapon: a silver cylinder accented with black duraplast grips, covered to the pommel. His leather thumb pressed the switch and out comes a blood-red beam. Irele has heard the stories, but never did she imagined seeing it in person; as a matter of fact, she’s not sure if her javelin has any chance against that.

Irele took the offensive, she moved first.

Vader, unbeknownst to her to be her own brother, effortlessly evaded it as simple as stepping out of the way.

The girl had too much pride in her to admit that her opponent was indeed stronger and more skilled, but she thought she could outsmart him, outmaneuver him, not knowing that her efforts would be in vain.

They traded strikes, but Vader was taking the lead in this fight. Irele’s tiring herself out in evading and looking for an opening, landing fewer strikes than she did with her first opponent—the trooper. The dark lord was neither generous nor kind with the training, he wanted to show Irele different levels of strengths—if she were to be dispatched in campaigns where combat is inevitable, she might as well be fazed now than later out in the field.

“It’s unwise to presume you can overpower me, child.”

With their blades locked in, Irele caught a glimpse of Vader’s face up close. The crimson red film of the lenses of his helmet uncovered a hazy view of his eyes—his real eyes: twin golden discs, glinting with menace and at the same time, a sort of grief.

For a moment, Irele’s expression showed humanity; but in the next second, she remembered the fight.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

Her overconfidence in her strike was her undoing, Vader’s lightsaber swiped it out of her hands, leaving her literally empty-handed.

“Perhaps you should re-assess that teenage confidence of yours, little one.”

Vader was moving in for a killing blow. He dared go that far. The operators in the viewing room think, “He’s going to kill her!” but the unexpected happened. In that one moment, time seemed to have slowed for Irele; Vader’s heavy yet nimble movement appeared to be slower in her eyes, which afforded her mere seconds to concentrate.

She closes her eyes… and focused.

Behind the darkness shrouding her view, she wondered why the strike hasn’t landed her yet, slowly she lifts her eyelids and saw a clear sheen shimmering in front of her—like glass with a frosted finish—while her hands were held up in front of her and wide open, sparks sputtered on all sides of Vader’s saber.

There was no time to comprehend this, but what Irele understood is that she needs to use this to advantage… now.

She pushed one hand further away, towards Vader—in effect, he was being backed away, by her. The girl took one more step, and alternately used the other hand to do the same thing as the first hand. Once aligned again, she slowly gravitated both hands to each other, closing the space in the middle and she watched Vader succumbing to his knees.

“Yes…” he lowed, rather satisfied. “You are strong with the Force. Like the blood before you.”

Those words rang into Irele’s soul, like a heavy bell with its ram, and on the top of her mind, there was one that came: Anakin.

She ceased using the Force and stumbled to her bottom, Vader remained kneeling but he held his head up to face the frightened, confused teen.

“Well done, Irele. You are ready.”

–

15 BBY

Irele’s training program did not hold her back, neither did it confine her within the walls of the fortress in Nur.

Roughly a month after her first year, she was tasked to hunt Jedi. Everything she needs to know about them—she did some reading in her time alone. She studied every form, their art and history: down to the most minute part of the culture and norms. And especially the broken legacy that had was their downfall.

It’s been an impressive second year.

Irele has been training consistently, of course, having nothing else to do—except interact with HY-L33, whose programming has been modified into half-protocol droid and half-nanny droid. Most crew members who had the gall to speak to the girl kept telling her that interaction with a droid does little with human social development and growth, to which, in her chagrin, Irele would reply: “I think I’m too old to be told about pediatric psychology.”

Despite her snark, Irele tries to be learned in terms of battle strategies—she’s juggled combat training with studying naval strategies and ground assault tactics, after learning that she may be dispatched on missions with a squadron of troopers in a particular planet from time to time. In one or more occasions, she would cross paths with the devilish Admiral Thrawn, but rarely do they meet for conferences—virtual or otherwise. She can’t help but use some of her street smarts in campaigns, which more often than not, actually works.

These privileges that she enjoys were personally decreed by Vader himself, in the hopes that she would maximize her abilities from more than being a reckless warrior. Some were against it because they perceive her as a rebellious, smart-mouthed child; others decide to give her a chance, because after all, she is a growing girl who’s got a lot to learn in this kind of world she’s been thrown in.

Not all know what she was before—but to generalize it, she was just some local girl in a desolate planet in the middle of nowhere.

The droid HY-L33 looked for her master, and found Irele examining and polishing her lightsaber—something she crafted on her own, the exterior at least. The kyber crystal was harvested from a Jedi survivor she killed not too long ago, in a tropical moon where she was dispatched alone with little to no reinforcements as the troopers were designated as patrols in the town.

“Lady Irele, the briefing with the Inquisitors is due in thirty minutes.”

“Ah yes, the Jedi hunters,” Irele’s brows furrowed, “I thought I wasn’t required?”

“Indeed, but it’s been said to be beneficial for your upcoming campaigns.”

“Who said so?”

“Lord Vader, apparently… and the Grand Inquisitor.”

“Right then, thank you, Haylee.”

Irele dressed into her garbs. Tailored to perfection: the bodysuit and pants were a dark gray waterproof fabric so that the garment won’t weigh her down when fighting under inclement weather such as rain, fog, and snow. The standard material for the armor plating was duraplast—tried and tested against Stormtroopers’ blaster fire and Purge Troopers’ electro-powered weapons—and it covered her torso, shoulders, and forearms; an armor skirt made from the same material complemented the utility belt. Supposedly, they’re to be worn when in the field, but since she’s been cooped up in the Fortress in the past few days, she doesn’t bother strapping on the armaments.

Lastly, she slipped into her low, black boots. Looking at the mirror, she bound her hair in a ponytail. It was once a medium bob with ragged tips, but now she’s grown it out to a length just after her shoulders.

“Alright, I’m ready. I’ll see you in a bit, Haylee.”

The droid gave a short bow and Irele departed her room.

Nur has become her home. The metal maze once confused her, but now she knows where she’s going even with her eyes closed.

She stepped into a turbolift and pressed the button that leads her to the level where the holding rooms and war rooms are.

“Holding Room A-121,” she muttered to herself in reminder.

Along the way, she exchanged short or curt bows to the crewmen who bothered tipping their hats or saluting to her as a greeting. When she saw the engraved number on the door, she pressed another button to prompt the door open. Before her was the group of Inquisitors around a table, lounging about like schoolchildren. Her entrance silenced their already hushed conversations and she stepped in, hoping to find a spot to sit the farthest from them.

“Oh, look who’s come to join us. The favorite.” chided one of the male Inquisitors.

“Let’s make this quick so we can forget each other’s sorry asses were in the same room.”

The briefing consisted of the locations where they would be dispatched. Holograms reflecting the planets flashed one by one on the podium, head profiles of surviving Jedi flashed after the planets, and Irele squinted her eyes on a particular one that stood out like a sore, red thumb.

“Do you know this one, Irele?” one of the male Inquisitors, the Second Brother, asked Irele. He noticed she looked at this one Jedi rather specially—or so he thinks.

Irele turned her eyes to the Inquisitor and replied with a frosty “No” and then she scanned the other head shots. She studied them, since she didn’t want her not being a Jedi-turned-Inquisitor to be a disadvantage. She’s got as much as grit as the rest of them. After the briefing, she isolated herself in one of the couches, locked herself away deep in thought that the Inquisitors’ chatter was just white noise.

She couldn’t wait to retreat to her bedchambers, where she can have some time of her own, unafraid that her idea and its credit might be stolen by another. Over time, Irele has proven to be the kind who “does their homework,” for instance, she remained in the holding room when everyone else had left—probably starting their leg of the hunt once they’re off the moon—and studied the briefing’s log.

“The Jedi are going to be extra cautious if they discover the Inquisitors are hunting them out,” she spoke under the finger against her lip. “Inquisitors are too obvious to spot. The uniforms are a dead giveaway…”

Her eyes widened at the thought.

“But I won’t!” she gasped.

Before leaving the room, she humored herself with listening to the voice logs of Stormtrooper Commanders during their operation in Zeffo. She switched between data tapes, hoping to find an inkling if it was the best place to start.

Audio Data 03403, plays:

“Most of the ancient relics have been extracted from the tombs after much deep digging. Although the acquisition of these antiques were done at the expense of some of us here. Captain Kane, for instance. Who was tagged as K.I.A. while excavating more of these relics underground when local fauna attacked her and a few men in her team.”

Irele stopped midway and scrolled a new one in the databank. Audio Data 34735 plays:

“I’m starting to have a feeling that our patrols are thinning out…”

“Finally, something interesting,” she commented.

“We don’t have the luxury of deploying new troops while sending injured men to the nearest Star Destroyer or outpost. No thanks to that Jedi that was obviously headed in the same direction as we are.”

The girl’s eyes widened upon hearing the word. Her chest tightened, her heartbeat was slow but the thumping was heavy, she could almost feel it pulse through the skin of her ribs. She anticipated more.

“Though I don’t think he was after the relics. I think he was after only one relic, that I don’t know though. Whatever it is, it’s important. But another important thing is that we need to do our job if we don’t wanna lose it—or worse, our lives.”

She’s heard enough and stopped playing the audio recordings. She clicked her way to the metadata of the file and saw that both recordings were one and two days old respectively. She rushed back to her bedroom to slip into her armor, entering the room startled HY-L33, leaving her stuttering and practically choking on what words to say.

“Miss Irele?”

“Haylee, run me a quick scan. How far are we from Zeffo?”

Without question, the droid obeyed. For a minute or two, she stared with unblinking photoreceptors, the white light behind them was unmoving as a faint whirring ran in her central processing unit.

“Approximately two and a half parsecs away, milady.”

“Too wasteful to use Anathema’s hyperspace. No small carrier armed with hyperspace, but the speed is there.”

The words literally rolled off of Irele’s mouth as she talks to herself until she comes into an epiphany of an idea.

“Come on, Haylee!”

“Coming, Lady Irele.” the droid monotonously cooed but one can sense the urgency she adapted with her mistress.

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whitewolfofwinterfell · 3 years

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Harry Potter re-read: thoughts and ranking my favourite books

In 2020 I completed a full re-read of Harry Potter for the first time since I was a child. It was a rollercoaster experience of highs and lows; excitement, nostalgia, frustration, joy, boredom and everything in between. It took the whole year (in between reading other books) and I hit a wall in the sumer, but I’m glad I persevered and made it to the end. This series will always hold a special place in my heart and as much as I love the movies, there’s so much detail that is missed from them. I didn’t realise just how much my memories of the HP universe had been shaped by the movies until I read the books. I feel like I’ve reconnected with the universe and characters in an authentic way and lots of my opinions have changed as a result.

Before we get to the ranking, some disclaimers:

If it wasn’t already obvious SPOILERS BELOW FOR THE HARRY POTTER SERIES (at this point I’d be surprised if there’s anybody that needs this warning, but better safe than sorry!).

This ranking is completely subjective and very changable. I love all of the books and I’ve based the ranking solely on my enjoyment of reading them.

In writing this post I am in no way supporting or endorsing J.K. Rowling’s works. Her ignorance and hatred is intolerable and abhorrent. I discuss this more in the conclusion of this post.

None of the images or gifs featured were made by me, all credit goes to the creators.

7. The Goblet of Fire

One of my favourite movies, but my least favourite book. This one hasn’t aged well for me. It’s too long, there’s much too filler and it has the disadvantage of coming after The Prisoner of Azkaban. I like the idea of the Triwizard Tournament in theory, but the execution is dull. We spend chapters upon chapters upon chapters with Harry and Hermione researching and preparing for the tasks and the tasks themselves are very anti-climatic. It’s also difficult to ignore the fact that the second and third tasks take part underwater and in a maze, and the audience can’t even see what’s going on. Apparently there’s no spell that can allow the audience to see underwater or inside a maze, not even those Muggle inventions called cameras *face palm*

The sub-plot with S.P.E.W was equally dull and didn’t add much to the story. I also found it deeply uncomfortable and upsetting to read about the enslavement of elves and the way that slavery was portrayed in general. The one positive I took from it was seeing Dobby with his crazy jumpers and socks. Dobby is The Best.

(credit to xbirdyblue on DeviantArt for this wonderful fanart image of Dobby)

The reactions to Harry’s name coming out of the Goblet of Fire is what infuriated me most in this book because it doesn’t even make sense. Firstly, does anybody really believe Harry’s capable of overcoming such powerful magic to put his name in? Secondly, why the fudging hell would Harry want to put his name in the Goblet? He’s a 14 year old child who has endured endless trauma; he’s spent most of his life living in an abusive household and the 3 years he’d been at Hogwarts fighting against Voldemort. He doesn’t want fame or glory, he just wants to live a normal, peaceful life and hang out with his best friends. Ron’s reaction is particularly annoying because he of all people should know Harry wouldn’t put his name in the Goblet. I understand why Ron felt that way and I love him but...

The one thing I did enjoy about this book is the evolution of Harry’s friendships with Ron and Hermione. Hermione is fiercely loyal to Harry and devoted every waking second to helping him succeed in the tasks. Despite Ron’s silly tantrum and their divide through most of the book, their falling out really does cement Harry’s love for Ron.

"He thought he could have coped with the rest of the school's behaviour if he could just have Ron back as his friend."

Harry liked Hermione very much, but she just wasn't the same as Ron. There was much less laughter and a lot more hanging round in the library."

"The thing Harry Potter will miss the most, sir!"

"Harry didn't care, he wouldn't have cared if Karkaroff had given him zero; Ron's indignation on his behalf was worth a hundred points to him."

What can I say? Ron is Harry’s platonic soul mate. That is all.

Barty Crouch’s escape from Azkaban and transformation into Moody is more cunning and intelligent than it was in the movies - this dude switched places with his mother and left her in Azkaban in his place!!

Fred and George were by far the highlight of this book for me. Their characters are great in the movies, but in the books they’re just--

Their antics, wit and banter are top notch. I’d actually forgotten that Harry gave his prize winnings from the Tournament to Fred and George, and it seems like such a huge injustice!! This act of kindness and selflessness on Harry’s part is largely why Fred and George are able to set up Wizard Wheezes. It’s a testament to Harry’s love for Fred and George that he gave them his winnings. Harry may not have needed the money but he could’ve done literally anything with it, and chose to give it to the twins because he believed in their ideas and wanted to give them the opportunity they needed.

GOF was always one of my favourite movies because of this moment:

Voldemort’s return was one of the most chilling, terrifying and shocking moments for me as a kid. The scene in the graveyard still stands out as being one of my favourite scenes from the movies. In the books, it didn’t have the same impact, unfortunately. In fact, this is what was noticeable to me all the way through reading this book - I like the movie more. The movie cuts out the filler, takes the interesting aspects of the book and does them better.

Overall, despite being at the bottom of my list, I still like GOF. It’s a huge step up in world-building and is an entertaining book with a great premise; I loved the Golden Trio’s friendship, the appearances from Dobby and Fred and George’s antics. Unfortunately, this book is let down by the sheer amount of filler, the underwhelming execution of the main plot and too much focus on sub-plots like S.P.E.W.

6. The Sorcerer’s Philosopher’s Stone

It was really difficult to rank Phliosopher’s Stone, because it holds a special place in my heart because it’s where the series began. This book does a great job at introducing Hogwarts and it captures those nostalgic, magical Hogwarts vibes unlike any of the other books. This book is all about the wonder and the joy of Hogwarts, and Hogwarts lives in my heart, so stepping into this magical world with Harry for the first time again was a joy to read.

I love the time spent in this book on experiencing the smaller wonders of the magical world with Harry - Platform 9 3/4, Hogwarts Express, Diagon Alley, Ollivanders, the Sorting Hat, Great Hall feasts, ghosts etc. It’s exciting and fun to read about, and truly a gem of a book for children.

Seeing Harry go from living in a cupboard and suffering abuse and neglect to an incredible world full of wonder and people who want to get to know him and show him kindness was a joy to read. I love the development of Harry, Ron and Hermione’s friendship and how, despite how short the book is, it’s developed properly. Their friendship with Hermione doesn’t happen overnight, but by the end there’s a genuine bond and trust between them.

But of course, as the first book in the series, the plot is lacking and the writing isn’t at its strongest. Also, despite how short it is I did feel a little bored reading the second half. It’s a great entry to the series and does a wonderful job at establishing the world, main trio and other characters, but in the grander scheme of the series it’s quite bland a forgettable.

5. The Deathly Hallows

Now this one came as a big surprise to me, because before my re-read I considered The Deathly Hallows to be my favourite book, but I just didn’t enjoy it this time around. The first 50-60% of this book got me like:

I was bored as hell. The travelling, the hunting for Horcruxes, Dumbledore’s backstory, the bickering between Harry, Ron and Hermione...it was tiresome. Fortunately, amongst that there were a lot of isolated things that I enjoyed.

Firstly, I adore the Tale of the Three Brothers, it’s interesting and I love the depiction of it in the movies - it’s just so cool!

Secondly, Ron and Hermione are very cute in this book, and for the first time I appreciated them as a romantic ship.

Thirdly, Harry looking through Sirius’ room and finding a letter from Lily broke my heart. This moment is so touching and completely unexpected, since I’d forgotten about it over the years.

(credit to alessiatrunifo for this stunning fanart)

Fourthly, LUNA LOVEGOOD. You know what? I have no qualms in saying Luna is one of my new favourite characters since my re-read. I always liked her, but she never stood out to me, and that’s changed. It’s not just that she’s unique and wacky, but that she’s fiercely independent, moral, kind and loyal. Luna has such a strong sense of who she is and she doesn’t let anyone or anything contradict that.

Can I also admit that I might slightly ship Harry and Luna now? 🙊 Luna seeing through Harry’s disguise as “Barney Weasley” based on his facial expressions alone and their reactions to the possibility of the other being in danger touched my heart.

"'She will [survive],' said Harry. He could not bear to contemplate the alternative. 'She's tough Luna, much tougher than you'd think. She's probably teaching all the inmates about Wrackspurts and Nargles.'"

"Oh, no, I didn't want you to be caught!"

They’re cute, okay?

Finally, Kreacher! This was perhaps one of the biggest surprises from reading this book, because I’d completely forgotten about Kreacher’s story. And boy, oh, boy did this pull on my heartstrings. Kreacher has one of the most tragic backstories in the HP universe and he absolutely deserves the redemption he got in this book. I loved seeing him develop a genine relationship with Harry, Ron and Hermione, and the fact that they never went back for him made me so sad. Poor Kreacher!

I enjoyed all of these elements of the first half of the book, and then I got to The Sacking of Severus Snape and it was like:

This is where the book finally took off for me (unfortunately, it took 30 chapters to get there) and as soon as Harry, Ron and Hermione are back in Hogwarts I couldn’t put it down. There are so many brilliant moments and things I loved that all I can really do is bullet point them:

The character reunions.

Percy finally redeeming himself!!!!

McGonnagal being the most badass to ever badass.

Neville Longbottom owns my heart ❤❤❤

Neville's grandmother's response to finding out Neville was fighting in the battle - "Naturally [he is]. Excuse me, I must go and assist him."

Ron and Hermione's first kiss!! and Harry’s reaction to it - "Is this the moment? OI! There's a war going on here!"

Percy handing in his resignation whilst Stupefy-ing his boss - "Hello, Minister! Did I mention I'm resigning?"

The Forest Again was such an emotional chapter. It got me good.

"You'll stay with me?" "Until the very end." 😭

"Harry, you wonderful boy. You brave, brave man."

"Perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it. Those, who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well."

Did I mention that Neville is bloomin' amazing?

Kreacher!!!!!! "Fight! Fight! Fight for my master, defender of the house-elves! Fight the Dark Lord in the name of brave Regalus! Fight!"

Reading The Flaw in the Plan was soooo much more satisfying than watching it play out on-screen in the movie.

In many ways DH has some of the best, most satisfying moments of any of the books. It’s a strong conclusion to the series and there’s so much that I loved about it; so many memorable and emotional moments (Dobby and Fred’s deaths still hit hard 20 years later). Unfortunately, it was dragged down by the first half of the book and the epilogue. I tried so hard to keep an open mind about the epilogue, but the truth is it still BLOWS. And the more time that passes the more I resent the decisions that were made about character deaths. I understand that the stakes were high and we needed to lose characters close to our hearts but Fred?? Dobby??? Remus??? NO! Just no, okay? I don’t accept that.

4. The Order of the Phoenix

Now, The Order of the Phoenix had similar issues as DH for me - it had a very slow start but a great ending. I did take a couple of months break in the middle of reading this one and distinctly remember slogging my way through the first half and devouring the second half.

I’ve made no secret over the years that Sirius and Remus are two of favourite HP characters, so I expected to enjoy OOTP a lot for that reason. I did really enjoy all the smatterings of Sirius and Remus we go throughout this book. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough for me. This book really highlighted for me how limited Harry’s POV was, because I wanted more of an insight into the Order but Harry was kept in the dark the entire time which was frustrating.

One of the main character highlights of this book is the legend Minverva McGonnagal. Her sass, strength and determination to defend Hogwarts and its students against Dolores is astounding. Here are some of my favourite McGonnagal moments:

"Well, usually when a person shakes their head they mean 'no.'"

"Can I offer you a cough drop, Dolores?"

"I should have made my meaning plainer. [Harry] has achieved high marks in all Defence Against the Dark Arts tests set by a compotent teacher."

Defending Hagrid against Umbridge.

And of course:

(Still can’t believe the movie robbed us of this!)

Time for a less popular opinion - I loved Harry in this book. In general, this book made me feel very protective of Harry, because Harry is bloomin’ incredible and deserves so much better than what he gets in this book. He’s always had a bad rep in OOTP for being an annoying, angsty teenager, but in my opinion, this is Harry at his most relatable and lovable. After everything Harry went through, he’s entitled to be angry with the world. He endured everything that he did and took the responsibility of the world onto his shoulders with little complaint, and in OOTP he reaches breaking point. Honestly, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. The adults in Harry’s life are glaringly irresponsible in this book. Not only do they force him back to the Dursley’s after the hugely traumatic events of GOF based on some bull about “blood magic”, but they purposefully hide the truth from him even though that puts him at greater risk and adds to his emotional distress. Everyone around Harry expects him to be mature and act like an adult when he’s fighting against the darkest wizard of all time, yet don’t give him the courtesy or respect of telling him the truth about significant things that impact him and the people he loves. Sirius os the only person that refuses to belittle Harry, but in some ways, his behaviour is just as damaging as those that tried to shelter Harry from the truth, because he expects too much of Harry and projects James’ personality onto him. The adults around Harry fail him to such an extent in this book that he establishes the DA because he can’t even rely on the adults around him to keep him and his friends safe. Harry’s emotions in this book aren’t only understandable, but justified and I felt an even deeper connection to him as a result. His vulnerability shows his strength and courage more than ever before. This is the point where he goes from the Chosen One to a true champion, because even when he reaches rock bottom and wants to give up, he doesn’t walk away. I love Harry so much.

The Department of Mysteries is by far one of my favourite sections from any of the books. I love the friendship dynamics, Luna, Neville and Ginny are given the chance to really shine, the stakes are high, the action is great and despite the trauma of Sirius’ death, that moment is so hard-hitting and memorable. This section of the book just took it to a new level for me. It was really great.

The emotion of Sirius’ death was captured so perfectly, and is such a huge turning point for Harry. Like I said above, choosing to go on even after losing Sirius proves that Harry is a true hero; that he isn’t just doing what he was doing out of obligation or has been told to but because he believes in doing the right thing. I best move on before I continue to speak about how amazing Harry James Potter is.

Now we come to Neville. Can you believe that I’d actually forgot the details of Neville being the Chosen One? It was a blast learning about that again and how he’s connected to the prophecy. I also loved that we got to see his family and not just be told about it via dialogue. Neville is by far one of the most loveable and interesting minor characters in the series. He has so many great moments in books 1-4, but he really shines in OOTP.

The more I write about this book, the more I find things to love. It’s just a shame that the first half lets it down, because overall, I think there’s a lot of great material here in terms of plot and character development.

3. The Chamber of Secrets

I know that The Chamber of Secrets is generally ranked low amongst most fans, but I love it. At this point, the books were more simplistic and just fun, and I like that. I also have to acknowledge that I have a deep affinity for the COS movie - I grew up watching it over and over, and of all the movies it’s still the one I know best and always come back to (still can’t believe the “Why couldn’t it be follow the butterflies line?” wasn’t even in the books!)

I love all of the different elements in this book:

Dobby

The Burrow

The flying car

Whomping Willow

Moaning Myrtle

This idiot

Gilderoy Lockhart is one of my favourite antagonists in the entire series, because he isn’t intentionally bad, he’s just an arrogant fool. His primary concern is his image and reputation and he was willing to go to any lengths to maintain it. He’s a bad person in a subtle and hilarious way.

Generally speaking, there are too many fun and entertaining moments to count in this book. I love the childish-ness of this book in comparison to the darker tone the series adopts from POA onwards. For me, COS still has the silliness and merriment that I really associate HP with. Entertainment value aside, the plot in COS is actually well executed.

As a short, concise and effective plot, Tom Riddle’s diary and the Chamber of Secrets works incredibly well. I liked the mystery and suspense of the culprit of the Muggle born attacks, and the big moments connected to it - finding out that Hagrid might be the perpetrator, Ginny being possessed by Voldemort, Hermione being petrified, Harry speaking Parceltongue. The stakes are high and this plot is strong enough to keep momentum going between the more light hearted moments.

Overall, COS is a quick, easy and fun read. It may not be the best written or complex book in the series, but I’m a huge advocate for it. Not only is it highly entertaining, but it also introduced a lot of great and important aspects to the series (Horcruxes, Tom Riddle being the heir of Slytherin, Harry being connected to Voldemort, polyjuice potion and Dobby), and built very well on what was established in PS.

2. The Half Blood Prince

The biggest surprise of this re-read was how much I bloomin’ loved Half Blood Prince. It has the perfect balance of plot, character development, mystery, humour and emotion. Out of the bigger books in the series, this was the one I finished the fastest (2 days), because it was quite literally un-put-downable (yes, that’s a word).

First, let’s talk about the plot, because wow, it’s a good ‘un. In my opinion, it’s the strongest and best written plot from any of the books. There’s Voldemort’s backstory, the development of Harry and Dumbledore’s relationship, Snape’s backstory, the mystery of the Half Blood Prince, Harry’s rivalry/suspicion of Malfoy, hunting Horcruxes and Dumbledore’s death. This book feels like an incredible pay-off for things that have been built up in the previous 5 books. We learn so much about certain characters - Dumbledore, Snape, Malfoy, Voldemort, Ginny - and regardless of whether I liked those characters or not, I was invested. The clues that Snape is the Half Blood Prince are cleverly interwoven within the narrative and the mystery keeps you guessing, even when you know who it is.

The last part of this book from Chapter 26 onwards was just explosive. Although I knew what was coming, I was surprised at the level of emotion I felt when Dumbledore and Harry were in the cave and when Dumbledore died. My heart was racing and I had tears in my eyes.

This book just doesn’t let up for a second. If we aren’t learning more about Voldemort, we’re following Draco to see what he’s up to or unravelling mysteries around the Half Blood Prince or trying to get information from Slughorn about horcruxes. Even the down time is enjoyable to read in this book (Chapter 9 was one of my favourite chapters to read) and the friendships and banter are stellar.

In terms of character development, this is also one of the strongest books. Dumbledore is finally developed beyond the omnipotent Gandalf-esque archetype and we learn bout his past and his flaws.

"I have already proven to you, I make mistakes like the next man. In fact, being - forgive me - rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger."

The focus on Dumbledore also sets it up for his death, and you know what? It works. If we’d lost Dumbledore prior to HBP, I would’ve been shocked and upset, but losing him at this point hurts that much more because we learn so much more about him, see how important he is to Harry and how vital his guidance is in defeating Voldemort. Dumbledore’s death feels like all hope is lost, and so soon after losing Sirius it feels even harsher.

Insight into Snape’s back-story finally explains some of his motivations and actions (though it does not condone them).

Although Voldemort’s backstory doesn’t necessarily add to our understanding of him, it’s interesting to see how he came into the world, and learn about his family background. What this demonstrated most to me is that a lot of the time there is no reason for evil. Voldemort didn’t really have any motivations for what he did. Sure, he didn’t have the perfect, happy childhood but there isn’t really enough substance there to try to explain how or why he became the monster that he did.

More could’ve been done with Malfoy, but I enjoyed him having a bigger presence in this book and how the idea that family shapes who we are isn’t always true. Draco does what is expected of him from his family, but ultimately, he has his own conscience and inner turmoil that forces him to question things.

As for Harry...he goes to a dark place in this book. OOTP has always been cpnsidered as the “angsty Harry”, but HBP takes Harry to new places. Harry feels more ruthless, reckless and determined in this book than any other. There’s an underlying sense of apathy that lingers from Sirius’ death. He obsesses about his mission to extract the memory from Slughorn and his lessons with Dumbledore, and fixates on his hatred for Draco and Snape. The fact that Harry uses Sectumsempra on Draco is honestly the most alarming thing that Harry does because it shows how dark a place Harry has gone to. He knows the spell is going to inflict serious harm and yet he uses it anyway.

Generally, Harry abuses the potions book and manipulates, lies and takes advantage of almost everyone around him. I really see his dependency on that book and his choice to exploit it for his own benefit as adverse effects of the grief and trauma he endured. For once, he has the upper hand and I’d even argue that despite the Half Blood Prince being anonymous stranger to him, he relies on him as a mentor or parental figure. Yet despite it being a dark book for Harry, he also seems to get some genuine peace with Ginny. Although I’m not a Hinny shipper, it was so nice to see Harry experience some normality and contentment. No matter what he goes through, he remains kind hearted. I actually feel like this book more than any other emphasises that point - Harry could just as easily have gone down the same path as Vodlemort, but he made a choice not to.

“In spite of all the temptation you have endured, all the suffering, you remain pure of heart, just as pure as you were at the age of eleven, when you stared into a mirror that reflected your hears desire and it showed you the only way to thwart Lord Voldement, and not immortality or riches. Harry, have you any idea how few wizards could have seen what you saw in the mirror?"

Plot and character development aside, the comedy in this book is gold and I appreciate the movie (and Daniel Radcliffe) for maximising on that to create some of the best and funniest scenes in the movie franchise. Chapter 18 in particular was hilarious.

Now I have to speak about one of my favourite moments from this book:

Since GoF, Fleur was grossly mistreated and discriminated against by the Weasley’s (Molly and Ginny in particular). The way they treated her was sexist and xenophobic pure and simple. They had no reason to dislike her and all of their reasons seemed to be built on some flimsy notion that she was full of herself (why, just because she was beautiful? and even if she was, what’s wrong with confidence?!) and that she was annoying and loud because she was French. Seeing Fleur finally stand up to their bigotry was fantastic. It’s a moment I’d been waiting for for so long and I’m so glad we got it, because frankly, Molly and Ginny’s beahviour towards Fleur needed to be addressed because it was disgusting.

Overall, HBP demonstrates the strengths of HP as a series. In comparison to the other books, I don’t really have anything to crituqe I enjoyed all of it from beginning to end, which is why it almost took the top spot in this ranking.

1. The Prisoner of Azkaban

It was really close between first and second place, but Prisoner of Azkaban just managed it. This is where the HP series truly takes off and starts to shine. In comparison to what we got in PS and COS it’s richer - the plot is complex, the world building is more developed, the characters are great and it’s generally an entertaining read but with added complexity in comparison to its predecessors.

I like that POA allows us to spend so much time in Hogwarts hanging out, but that the plot comes to the forefront more. We’re all so familiar with HP at this point that it’s easy to forget the impact the plot-twists must’ve punched the first time we read them. But for me, it’d been so long since I’d read the series, that it really was like reading them for the first time and POA was one of the ones that surprised me at various points.

I’d forgot details like:

The Shrieking Shack got its name and reputation because Lupin locked himself up there during transformations; The Whomping Willow was planted to hide the secret passage to the Shrieking Shack and prevent Lupin from escaping and hurting people in his werewolf form

Crookshanks was Sirius’ ally

Sirius escaped Azkaban in his dog form

Unsurprisingly, Remus and Sirius were the highlight of this book for me. I know it’s basic but I really love them and the two of them having such a focus in this book really makes it.

Remus truly shines in this book. He’s a lovable character – a great teacher, a supportive mentor and a loyal friend. His tragic backstory only adds to his character. Snape tries to villainise Remus for being a werewolf, but the reality is that he’s a victim. He was an innocent child that was bitten by a vicious, cruel monster and has to live with the consequences of that for the rest of his life. He carries so much self-loathing, fear and insecurity because of what he is and he doesn’t deserve it. Dumbledore is the only one that separates the man from the wolf and takes Remus on his merits. He knows that Remus is a genuinely good person and a talented teacher, and he’s willing to make the necessary adjustments to enable Remus equal opportunity. Not only does it benefit Remus for Dumbledore to do this, but the students too, because let’s face it, Remus is a bloody damn good teacher.

Remus is arguably the most decent and responsible adult character in the entire HP universe. He respects Harry’s agency but also acknowledges that he’s still a child that needs protection and guidance. Instead of lying to Harry or throwing him into dangerous situations, he does perhaps the most helpful thing any adult ever does for Harry – he teaches him how to defend himself. I love that Lupin and Harry’s relationship in this book foreshadows the formation of the DA in OOTP; Lupin is the only one that teaches Harry practical DATDA skills and in the absence of Lupin as a teacher, Harry then takes on that role as a mentor and provides his friends with the skills to defend themselves.

Now we come to Sirius. Introducing Sirius as the enemy – a dangerously, mad criminal who is conspiring with Voldemort and wants Harry dead – and then revealing him to be the complete opposite was genius. Part of me wished I could completely forget so that I could experience the utter shock of finding that out for the first time. The fact that Harry saw his parents in the Mirror of Erised in PS and then finds Sirius and Lupin in this book touches my heart. Sirius is a direct link to Harry’s parents unlike anything he’s ever had. Although on the surface, their bond develops too quickly, considering that Harry is 13 years old and all he wants more than anything is to have parents and/or a connection to his parents, his quick attachment to Sirius makes sense. The thought of living with Sirius makes Harry so happy that he used it to power his patronus!!! Likewise, Sirius clings to Harry knowing that he’s the son of his best friends. He spent the entirety of his time in Azkaban knowing Harry was still out there somewhere without James and Lily and in danger from Voldemort. Immediately, Sirius provides Harry with the type of comfort about his parents that he’s never received before.

“You think the dead we have loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs rode again last night.”

One of the highlights of this book is the scene where Snape catches Harry with the Marauders Map. That quote is just legendary.

"Mr Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business. Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git. Mr Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a Professor. Mr Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball."

Admittedly, the time travel in this book is problematic as hell. I’m grateful that Harry and Hermione were able to save Buckbeak and Sirius due to time travel, but if it was up to me, I’d remove time travel from the universe completely. It doesn’t fit, it’s too complicated and creates too many issues. McGonnagal condones the use of time travel for Hermione to attend extra lessons and yet won’t use it to tackle real, important problems, like I don’t know, war, death, disease, disasters etc. Not to mention the entire Voldemort problem and Harry becoming the Chosen One could’ve been resolved by going back to the night of James and Lily’s deaths.

One of my favourite elements of this book was seeing Ron and Hermione’s friendship with Hagrid. A lot of emphasis is placed on Harry’s friendship with Hagrid. but this book shows how devoted Ron and Hermione are to Hagrid. They both spend a lot of their time comforting him and helping him to prepare for Buckbeak’s trial.

This book has a great balance – it’s still on the shorter side but it doesn’t suffer for it. and here’s plenty of plot and character development. Ironically, whilst HBP is my favourite because of the emphasis on the main plot, POA is my favourite because it takes a break from Voldemort. It’s refreshing to take a step away from Voldemort and put the focus onto a new villain in Sirius, and then for the twist to be revealed that he’s not actually a villain but Harry’s godfather. The time-turner is the biggest draw-back in this book, but I can overlook that because there’s so much more to love in this book. It’s definitely the most re-readable book in terms of the length and plot. This book is a happy medium which incorporates the strengths from all of the other books in a smaller package than HBP - it’s fun but expands on the universe, introduces brilliant new characters and has a depth and complexity that the first two lack whilst not having the filler that books 4-7 have.

Conclusion

It’s hard to read these books without it being mingled with childhood nostalgia, so that undoubtedly informed my ranking. Despite being a children's series, the books still hold up reading them as an adult. I enjoyed rediscovering the smaller details I’d forgotten over the years and feel much closer to the universe as a result. The characters and their dynamics are by far my favourite thing about HP. I also enjoy the whimsical magic and how this is offset against the darker tone later in the series. However, in light of JKR’s hateful rhetoric, my attention was drawn to the problematic elements of the books such as the portrayal of slavery in addition to:

Lack of major/well-written characters of color

Anti-semitic caricature of goblin bankers

Cho Chang’s name (which many consider offensive), stereotypical placement in Ravenclaw (the smart house) while being the only East-Asian character in the books, and she functions almost exclusively as a love interest

Ableism all-around

Nagini, an evil snake who gets chopped in half, is actually an Asian woman according to Fantastic Beasts, making her the second of two named East Asian characters in the franchise

“Magic in North America,” a history of magic in North America published on Pottermore that grossly misappropriates and misconstrues Native American cultures

Anthony Goldstein, retconned token Jewish character, also stereotypically named

General stereotypical naming of non-Anglo-Saxon characters

Remus Lupin’s werewolf status as an AIDS metaphor while depicting his condition as making him monstrous, and the man who bit him goes around biting people for kicks

Declaring that Dumbledore is gay with exactly 0 in-canon references, and no other LGBTQ+ representation (article credit: Separating Art from Artist - Thoughts on J.K. Rowling written by Melina List on Medium)

This is the last time I will read these books, partly because I’ve outgrown them, but mostly because I can’t, without a heavy conscience ignore the relationship between JKR’s hateful views and her works. If you want to learn more about this, I’d recommend checking out a post from my_weird_bookish_heart on Instagram which explains why we couldn’t and shouldn’t ignore the problems in these books by adopting a “art is separate from the artist” mentality (if you would like the link to this please message me and I’l be happy to share it. We can all still love and enjoy HP, but we all have a moral duty to acknowledge and take responsibility for this and not feign ignorance. Views like JKR’s directly harm individuals and groups, not just in the trans community but also the Jewish and LGBTQIA+ communities and people of colour. I can’t and won’t accept that in silence. No matter how special HP was to me as a child, the lives of real humans are unquestionably more important.

Thank you for reading.

#hp #harry potter #hp books #harry potter books #hp review #hp book review #hp meta #mine #my meta #reposting from my sideblog cos i spent legit HOURS writing this and adding gifs and don't wanna lose it when i delete the blog

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voxofthevoid · 4 years

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Taking It Up The Ass Isn’t Character Growth - A Rant

So, in response to an ask a while back, I said I had a rant brewing on fandom and sex positions, and well, a lot of you wanted to see it, so here you go. You literally asked for it.

Disclaimer: This is going to talk a lot about top/bottom roles in slash fic and fandom attitude towards them and is heavily filtered through the lens of my own tastes and experiences with fandom. I’d also like to be upfront that I am 100% in favor of people writing whatever fictional content they want, and it’s not what fandom does with characters that bothers me but rather how that translates into attitudes towards real, live people. Also, this is the essay version of a slow burn AU because I regurgitate my entire fandom history before getting to the point. Beware.

I discovered fan-fiction around a decade ago, had no clue what the hell it was, got hooked and dived deeper. I started participating in fandom circa 2013, and I was fairly young and also completely inexperienced both sexually and romantically. The fandom in question was Hannibal and my ship of choice was Hannibal/Will. It was/is a very chill fandom in general, but we had our drama. And chief among the contentious topics was—you guessed it—the top/bottom debate. I can’t actually remember any other topic that was discussed and argued for so ardently in that fandom, at least in those days. Even after I drifted away, I came across a few posts on the matter.

Generally, you had two camps—people who supported strict roles and those who were in favor of switching*. And because we’re a society plagued by illogical assumptions, the strict role camp mostly had people who thought Mr. Big Bad Cannibal in the Fancy Suits wouldn’t take it up the ass because he’s older, more experienced, more mentally stable, and of course, more ‘dominant’ in personality. Yes, that sentence is chock full of problematic shit. I am aware. Lots of people were aware and argued strongly against attributing top/bottom roles to personality. I don’t remember anyone arguing as enthusiastically for Top Will, but those voices were also there. But the general idea was that assigning strict top/bottom roles to a male/male couple was casting them in a heterosexual mold and thus, the progressive option was to make them switch. Strict roles also garnered comparisons to “yaoi” and uke/seme stereotypes, which was of course bad and fetishizing and we, the Western media fans, of course had to do better. Stealth racism is fun to untangle.

Anyway, I lapped up the woke juice. Partly because I was a baby queer from Buttfuck Nowhere, Asia, who had zero exposure to LGBT+ communities and what queer folks did with each other. Partly because it was the stance taken by most of my favorite writers so it seemed like a good position to emulate.

Emulate it I did. Most discussions I had about this happened in private with the handful of close friends I had in fandom. Where it really showed was in my writing. I made sure to write switching—maybe not in every fic, but then I alternated between fics. Thing is though, I did have a preference. I liked Top Will. I created and consumed a ton of Top Hannibal, and sometimes it was okay, sometimes it was not, but I couldn’t pinpoint why it made me uncomfortable. Back then, I thought I was a cis questioning/bi girl and once again, the impression I got was that not being MLM, having a preference was automatic fetishization. So I tried my best to justify my preferences, to my friends at least. I think what I said was that fandom was skewed towards Top Hannibal, and I liked the opposite because I’m a contrary fuck. Which I am, to be fair, but this was just me desperately trying to figure shit out without being offensive.

That’s the line I touted all the way until 2018, which was when I fucked off to grad school in A City, finally freed of Buttfuck Nowhere and able to actually date. At this point, I was settled in my sexuality (girls only) and questioning my gender (non-binary or trans guy). I had also tentatively figured out during undergrad that I’m an exclusive top and a Dom. Actual attempts at dating cemented that, yes, those are my preferences, about as flexible as a steel rod. Cue motherfucking epiphany over my fanfic tastes.

And see, over these years, I was engaging intermittently with fandom. I dutifully wrote switch couples. I also continued to have rigid tastes and continued to explain it away as being a contrary fuck—to be fair, until Steve/Bucky, my preference did seem to be the opposite of the larger fandom preference. But correlation, as we know, isn’t causation. Until Steve/Bucky, I continued to write versatile couples because I honestly didn’t have the guts to just say I liked it just one way. I do now but even then, I feel compelled to add that it’s because I want to see my own taste reflected in fic, so I write/read the character I relate to as a top, it's not that deep etc. Would I be as forthright if I didn’t have that reason? Would I have such strict preferences in fic if I didn’t have strict preferences IRL? The latter’s a mystery, but the former isn’t—I wouldn’t be because fandom is still entrenched in the same ideas that got me to this point to begin with.

In every fandom I’ve been in, I’ve seen some version of this debate go around. Sometimes, it’s one party saying “why would you write Character X as a bottom, he’s so Reason A” and a reblog chain that insults the OP and/or extols the virtues of switching. Sometimes, it’s a general-ish message that says they don’t understand why people have strict preferences when we all know real gay couples switch. Sometimes, it’s blanket statements that accuse anyone with preferences of fetishizing. Sometimes, it’s the same reasoning that gets you “Character Y is a top because of Reason B” transposed on versatile couples except this takes the form of “they switch because they’re equals.”

Ya’ll, I’m fucking tired.

I have long since lost count of the number of stories I’ve seen where an exclusive top learning bottom and liking it is character growth. Where a character who prefers to bottom taking a turn on top is empowering.

Isolated, these are fine. But I’ve seen enough of such stories that it’s distinctly discomfiting and a major squick. Sometimes a trigger, if I'm too immersed in the story. I’m not going to try and burn an author at the stake because they pissed me off. I am just going to close that window and quietly handle my shit. People can write whatever they want. But this one theme hits too close to home, as you can see from this 1.6k rant.

My friend (also my ex-girlfriend) and I had an all-out bitching session about this the other day. Both of us are kinky fuckers who have rigid, complementary roles we prefer and we have both had our grueling days of struggling to reconcile our sexual tastes with our ideologies precisely because of how these things are frowned upon in conservative and progressive circles. Seeing that in fandom, of all places, is both insulting and exhausting. Topping and bottoming aren’t personality traits. Neither is D/s. It’s sexual preference and power play. It really does not have to be that deep. I am not exorcising childhood trauma using the bodies of women. My partners, former and current, have not been brainwashed by the patriarchy. We will not become better, more complete individuals once I magically stop being a stone top and my partners embrace the joys of a strap-on.

I have, with my own two eyes, seen someone say that in a really committed relationship, of course the couple will switch.

Bullshit.

It’s transparent bullshit. This does not get attributed to cisgender M/F couples. Even when the automatic assumptions of woman = bottom and man = top get addressed, switching isn't presented as the default. No one’s saying “oh, if you really love your husband, you’ll peg him”. I do know butch/femme sapphic couples get their own share of shit. Because it’s all heteronormativity, right? Can’t have any other reason for top/bottom roles.

You have two extremes with “so who’s the woman” on one end and “it’s woke only if they switch” on the other, and as far as I’m concerned, they’re equally damaging. There shouldn’t be a pressure, however subtle, to conform your taste in fiction to some arbitrary idea of progressiveness. People are going to like whatever they want anyway; all this does is create an atmosphere where those likes can’t always be freely expressed without a lot of mental gymnastics. We’re seeing so many versions of this in the pushback against so-called problematic content, but smaller, subtler versions exist too.

Fictional characters aren’t real. They can be whatever you want them to be. And yes, other people will often want them to be the exact opposite of your ideas, but that’s just how things work. Meanwhile, the people behind these usernames? They’re real. No one should be throwing real people under the bus to ‘protect’ characters that don’t exist. Hannibal Lecter doesn’t care whether he gets fucked or dismembered in Author B’s fanfiction, but the discourse that surrounds the dick up his ass? That does affect flesh and blood people.

I am not claiming that this is the only attitude in fandom. Middlegrounds do exist. Plenty of people abide by fic and let fic and there are folks who pipe up to say not every RL queer couple switches. But it’s often the extremes that reach most people. That was certainly my experience, and I’m not the only one.

I don’t really know how to end this post. It is 100% a rant and one that’s been building up for a while. Bottom line is that people’s sexual behavior varies wildly and whenever you attack sexual tastes in fanfic by saying it’s unrealistic - or worse because let’s be real, that’s a very tame word choice - please remember that there’s likely someone out there who practices it.

* I’m using switch and versatile synonymously in this post. It’s mostly concerned with top/bottom debates. A lot of what I’m saying is also echoed in portrayals of and discussions surrounding D/s dynamics, but I’m not addressing that as much for now.

#fandom #top bottom discourse #wow that's a tag #here it is the rant i promised #because i don't quite trust tumblr i feel compelled to add that this is ofc not some kind of attack on actual people who switch either #you do you man #live your best life #vox has opinions

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yeah-klave · 4 years

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Strong hands, warm heart

Summary: Dave notices Klaus looks tired and achy and decides to give him a massage.

Genre: Smut, with a side of fluff and humour

A/N: Mostly canon compliant, but Dave didn’t die and he and Klaus made it back to 2019 (somehow) where they’re now living happily ever after. (Also, The Umbrella Academy are now a functioning crime fighting team.)

Word length: 4k

Warning: Adult content (18+ only please), hand jobs, indirect prostate massage, massage with a happy ending, mention of ghosts who’ve committed suicide, mention of missions involving narrowly avoided train crashes and terrorists.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of The Umbrella Academy characters or settings.

*****************************************************

For the third time tonight, Dave saw Klaus furrow his brows and roll his shoulders.

Dave frowned, looking over the top of his book and focused his gaze on his boyfriend.

They were sitting in their living room. While Dave quietly read a novel, Klaus had flopped onto the sofa next to him to watch TV. His long limbs were sprawled dramatically, one foot resting absently in Dave’s lap.

Unaware of Dave’s eyes on him, Klaus blinked blearily in the direction of the TV, before bringing a hand up to scrub across his face and pinch the bridge of his nose. Dave watched as he rolled his shoulder again and let out a breath in a small, almost inaudible sigh.

“You okay?” asked Dave.

“Hmmm?” Klaus hummed, flicking his eyes away from the screen to rest on the soft expression on his boyfriend’s handsome, chiseled face.

“Bad day?” Dave asked gently, resting one of his large, warm hands on Klaus’ bare foot and rubbing the delicate skin of the arch slowly with his thumb.

“Hmmm,” Klaus hummed again, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. “Oh, you know, long day saving the world and all that fun stuff…” He wiggled his toes slightly.

“How bad was it?” Dave asked. “The disaster you averted today, on a scale of one to ten?”

“Well…” Klaus considered. “If one was tripping up and stubbing your toe, and ten was the end of all life on earth… I suppose it would have been a seven. But, like a strong seven. Nearly an eight. Probably like a seven point eight five…”

“Of course you answered to two decimal places,” Dave said fondly. “That’s just so… what it is you guys say now… extra?”

Klaus barked a laugh, then winced and rolled his shoulder again.

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?” asked Dave, concerned.

Klaus frowned vaguely. “Oh, just a bit stiff, I guess. I think I pulled it when I was trying to carry Luther.” He frowned back in the direction of the screen.

Dave shook his head slightly in bewilderment and concern, “Why were you trying to carry Luther?! Have you seen the size of that guy? And you’re only little! You’re not the one with super strength baby.”

“Yeah,” Klaus agreed, “but he was unconscious and a train was about to hit him. It’s okay though, in the end I got a couple of nice jumpers to help me get him out of the way.”

“Jumpers?” Dave asked.

“Yeah,” Klaus yawned, “railway lines are full of them. These two were pretty nice actually.”

Dave sighed. “Seems like all the work you’ve been putting in to better control your powers is paying off.”

“Yeah…” Klaus yawned again, “I suppose. But, I mean, we did have a bit of a fight afterwards, while Five and Allison were sorting everything out… They said Gene Pitney had no place in the musical canon!” He caught Dave’s eye and they shared a smile and Klaus rolled his shoulder again.

Dave carefully marked his place, put his book down and leaned to switch off the TV. He gently lowered Klaus’ foot to the floor, got to his feet and held his hand out to Klaus. “Come on,” he said simply.

“Where are we going?” Klaus asked, looking up at him.

“I’m going to take care of you,” Dave said softly. “Now come on. Up.”

Klaus took Dave’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. Dave led him down the hall and towards their bedroom, pausing to grab a couple of towels from the cupboard on the way.

“Mmmm,” Klaus said waggling his eyebrows and squeezing Dave’s fingers, “taking care of me in the messy kind of way then?”

Dave looked back at him. Despite his words, Dave could see the fatigue around Klaus’ eyes and the lethargy in his limbs.

Dave squeezed back and quirked the corner of his mouth up in a smile. “Probably not in the way you’re thinking.”

Klaus’ brows furrowed as Dave led him into their bedroom. He left the overhead light off and instead flicked on a lamp and the room filled with a soft warm glow. Dave leaned over and pulled the duvet down and off, letting in fall in a heap at the foot of the bed.

“Dave?” Klaus said.

“Sshh,” Dave soothed, turning to Klaus and running a hand tenderly down Klaus’ cheek. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m going to take care of you.”

Dave unfurled a large towel and laid it flat in the middle of the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles.

He then turned to Klaus, eyes soft and head tilted slightly to the side. “Let’s get those clothes off you,” he said. “I’m going to rub your back and sort out that muscle tension.”

Klaus closed his eyes briefly and exhaled. “That,” he said slowly, “actually sounds amazing.”

Dave grinned and helped Klaus pull he tee over his head. Klaus unbuttoned his pants and shimmied them down his hips, then sat on the edge of the bed and let Dave peel them the rest of the way down his legs and off.

“I don’t know how you can stand these,” Dave said looking down at the skinny leather pants, a smile crinkling his eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, you know what it does to me seeing you in these. But still, I don’t know how you do it...”

“It’s all worth it for the look on your face, Davey,” Klaus cooed, looking up through his lashes and his Hello hand going to the waistband of his boxers.

But Dave caught his wrist. “This is about helping you relax and unwind. Just leave them on and come here” he said patting the bed.

Klaus raised an eyebrow but nodded once and crawled onto the bed.

“Here, rest your pelvis on this,” Dave said, taking a smaller towel, rolling it into a thin tube shape and placing it on the bed. “It’ll help with the alignment of your spine.”

Klaus arranged himself on the bed, arms up, head resting on his folded forearms and his pelvis, slightly raised, positioned on the towel roll. He breathed out a deep sigh.

“Just this feels so good already,” he smiled, arching his back and curling his toes luxuriously.

“Good,” Dave smiled down at him, his hand coming out to stroke the back of Klaus’ head soothingly, running his fingers through his glorious curls. “Don’t fight it if you want to fall asleep, okay?”

“Mmm,” Klaus hummed.

Dave opened the bedside drawer on his side and rummaged around inside before finally pulling out a small bottle.

Dave moved back down to the bottom of the bed and perched on the corner. He popped the cap of the bottle and poured some oil onto his hands. He placed the bottle within reach and then rubbed his hands together, warming the oil. He gently picked up Klaus’ left foot and with broad strokes, spread the oil over the skin of his foot. Then balancing Klaus’ foot on his fingers, Dave used his thumbs to press into the underside of Klaus’ foot, kneading the soft arch with a rhythmic press and slide, alternating between the thumbs of each hand.

Klaus sighed. “As good as that feels Davey, you do know that’s not my shoulder, right? I mean, I don’t know how good you were at Biology class in school, but I thought that after all the self-studying we’ve done together over the years you might have picked up a thing or two along the way.”

“Are you actually sassing me right now?” Dave quirked a smile.

“Umm hmm,” Klaus hummed.

“Klaus,” Dave said soothingly. “I’m going to help you relax. I am in control. You literally only have one job right now: just lie there and take it.”

Klaus groaned and Dave grinned.

Dave continued to work Klaus’ foot, pressing into the arch and smoothing over the heal and ball. He then used his thumb and the side of his index finger to pinch all the way around the edge of the foot. Dave heard Klaus sigh. He then moved onto Klaus’ toes, rolling the pad of each in turn, then curling his fingers around the big toe, squeezing and pulling back slowly, twisting his wrist as he went. Klaus groaned again. Dave repeated the action, then moved on and did the same to the other toes in turn.

By the time Dave was replenishing the oil and moving onto the other foot to give it the same treatment, Klaus already felt as though he was melting into the bed. With every press of Dave’s thumb and twist of his fingers, Klaus felt himself sink deeper and deeper. He sighed in pleasure.

After gently laying his feet back on the bed and re-oiling his hands, Dave twisted his body to face Klaus and slowly worked his way up the back of one of Klaus’ legs, pressing deeply into the muscle of the calf and the back of the thigh. By the time he reached the hem of Klaus’ boxers, Dave felt Klaus shift his hips, opening his legs wider. Dave smiled to himself, then turned his attention to the bottom of the other leg, working his way up slowly with firm, broad strokes. Klaus breathed out a deep sigh, submitting himself to the steady press and slide of Dave’s strong hands.

Finally, Dave rose and moved onto the bed to straddle Klaus, one knee on either side of Klaus’ thin hips. He picked up the bottle and gently poured a few drops over Klaus’ shoulders and down his back. The oil glistened on Klaus’ skin, slowly running down the slope of his shoulders and pooling a little in the hollow at the base of his spine. Dave then leaned forwards, took hold of one of Klaus’ tender shoulders and squeezed gently.

Klaus let out a long, drawn out groan. The corner of Dave’s mouth twitched in a smile. He smoothed his hands over the area, spreading the oil, then began working the stiff muscles of Klaus’ shoulders gently.

“Oh, Dave,” Klaus sighed.

Dave looked down at him fondly, keeping up the movement of his fingers and watching the flutter of Klaus’ dark eyelashes against his cheeks, the slackness of his jaw, the way his mouth parted slightly to release a long, slow sigh.

“Is this pressure okay, baby?” Dave asked quietly. “Or do you want it harder?”

“Oh, that feels so good,” Klaus breathed out. “But, yeah, maybe a little harder, please.”

Dave increased the pressure of his fingers a fraction and Klaus groaned.

“Yes, that!” He grunted, “just like that!”

Dave continued to study Klaus; eyes closed and face smooth with contentment, half pressed into the mattress. He kept up the pressure of his thumbs, watching the flickers of pleasure flash over Klaus’ features. When Dave started to feel the solid muscles of Klaus’ shoulder begin to soften, he began to work his way up the column of Klaus’ neck and rub small circles into the delicate place at the base of his skull. Dave then encouraged Klaus to roll his head and face the other direction, giving Dave access to the other side. Finally, he worked his way back down and began his ministrations on the other shoulder. Dave felt Klaus shift his hips again.

Dave worked on the muscles of the shoulder until Klaus was letting out low, happy hums on every exhale. Only then did Dave move his hands down in broad strokes over Klaus’ shoulder blades and down his back, spreading the oil and following the gentle curve of his spine down to his narrow waist. He then went back to knead the delicate area between Klaus’ shoulder blade and spine.

“Ooh,” Klaus jerked suddenly.

Dave looked at him quickly, “Not good?”

“You just hit a really sensitive bit there,” Klaus said.

“Sorry,” Dave said, bending over briefly to press a kiss to the area. He then brought his hands back to the sport and worked the area much more gently.

“Ooooh,” Klaus breathed out, melting again. “Yeeaah, that’s actually really good. More there please.”

Dave smiled, and carried on the gentle press and slide of his slippery thumbs over Klaus’ sensitive muscles. Dave mirrored his actions on the other side of Klaus’ spine, making sure his attentions were balanced and even.

“Yes,” Klaus sighed dreamily, completely lost in the push of strong hands, the soft weight of Dave resting lightly on his backside and the slow clench and release as his muscles unknotted. He was almost overwhelmed by the moment. He felt so relaxed and heavy he could barely lift his head. But at the same time, he was light and free and untethered, and felt like he might float away, moored only by the firm press of Dave’s hands on his body. He was distantly aware of a low pressure building in his stomach, a surge and swell that had him twitching his hips again. Unaware, Dave continued to work down Klaus’ back, pressing and kneading Klaus into a state of fuzzy bliss.

“Do you want to roll over so I can do your front?” Dave asked softly.

Klaus gave a muffled hum into the mattress.

Dave lifted onto his knees and shuffled back slightly. He grabbed the towel roll and gently pulled it out from under him as Klaus languidly twisted his body around between Dave’s legs and rolled flat on his back. As he settled, the prominent tent in Klaus’ boxers suddenly became very evident between them.

Dave grinned and caught Klaus’ eye, raising an eyebrow. Klaus smiled and gave Dave a wink.

Still grinning, Dave gently poured more oil over Klaus’ chest and down his arms.

He ignored Klaus’ erection, instead working his way slowly down his arm, paying particular attention to his hand, kneading into the palm and repeating the pull and twist action on each finger and thumb.

Klaus sighed heavily, his chest rising and falling in short pants. He shifted his hips again, a steady thrum now pulsing between his legs.

“Dave,” he breathed, his voice low and needy.

Dave smiled again and continued to work on Klaus’ hand. He then started down his other arm, his hands firm and sure. Klaus groaned and squirmed.

Eventually, Dave returned to Klaus’ chest, spreading the oil by running flat hands over his pecs and abs. He relished the feeling of the flat planes of Klaus’ chest and his eyes grew dark seeing the way the oil accentuated the shallow swells and grooves of his toned muscles. When Dave’s hand ran over the sensitive skin of the V above his groin, Klaus gasped and bucked his hips, chasing the direct touch and pressure he craved.

“Dave,” Klaus whined shamelessly.

“Huh?” Dave said, feigning ignorance, his hands still sliding over the smooth taut skin of Klaus’ stomach.

Klaus’ breath quickened and he released another groan as Dave’s fingers ran over the hardened nubs of his nipples. The weightless relief Klaus had felt as his muscles relaxed was now replaced by a new kind of tension. There was a hot coil in his stomach, and he felt a sharp, hot twist when Dave’s fingertips ran over his nipples again and then dipped down to brush against the very top of the crease of his groin. He could hear his pulse in his ears and feel a thrumming ache building inside him. He bucked his hips again, eager and desperate and leaking.

“Dave, please,” he begged.

Bringing his hands up to Klaus’ face, Dave cupped his cheeks and brought their mouths together in a slow kiss. Klaus opened his mouth for Dave, yearning for the push and slide of Dave’s lips and tongue. Dave broke away and Klaus whined, but Dave brought his lips low to Klaus’ ear.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he whispered soothingly, his warm breath fanning over Klaus’ over sensitive skin. “I told you I was going to take care of you.”

Klaus shivered and huffed out a breath, eyes closed, as Dave sat back up and lifted off Klaus, shuffling until he was kneeling at his side. He carefully lifted the waistband of Klaus’ boxers, encouraging Klaus to lift his hips, and pulled them down and off. Klaus’ length sprang free. Dave took a moment to stare down at Klaus, thick and hard and heavy, straining and twitching from lack of stimulation. For a second, Dave’s heart clenched and a wave of something warm and softly golden filled his chest. Him, though Dave. Always, him.

He picked up the bottle of oil and poured some over Klaus’ groin and generously coated his own hands. He reached down and, finally, gave one firm pull on Klaus’ length. Klaus let out a desperate groan and twitched, bucking his hips eagerly to chase the delicious pressure.

However, Dave let go and instead made a claw shape with his thumb and fingers. He positioned his hand over the tip, the pads of his fingers and thumb resting tantalizingly just below the head. He then began twisting his wrist, his fingers moving over Klaus’ silky soft skin.

Klaus gasped, his head coming up and eyes shooting open. He stared blearily at Dave.

“Dave… what?” He panted “What’re you…?”

“Sshh,” Dave soothed. Then, smiling, he added, “also, people who are ‘taking it’ shouldn’t be asking questions.” Klaus stared up at him, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. Dave winked at him. Klaus closed his eyes and let his head fall back. His hands fisted the sheet and his chest rose and fell heavily as he submitted to the delicious, barely-there caress of Dave’s fingers on his aching hardness.

Dave then changed the rhythm of his fingers. One hand teasing through the scattering of coarse dark hairs, Dave held the base of Klaus’ shaft steady and firm. With the fingers of the other hand still resting just under the head, Dave pinched his fingers together and slowly raked them up over the tip, bringing them together right at the point where a creamy glistening bead was leaking from the slit. Klaus groaned again, fighting the urge to thrust up. Dave repeated the action until Klaus was groaning and panting beneath him, the unfamiliar teasing sensation tortuously delicious, but nowhere near enough.

Letting go briefly, Dave reapplied oil to his hands and rubbed them together, then, palms flat, he brought his hands to either side of Klaus’ shaft and pushed one hand forwards, while dragging the other back, then switched the direction and repeated. Klaus whined. Dave set a slow rhythm as his hands slid over Klaus, the alternating push and pull increasing Klaus’ desire and the throbbing want between his legs.

He then brought his left hand to Klaus’ balls and rolled them. Then, ever so gently, he squeezed, pulling them away from Klaus’ body. His right hand moved back to the head which he covered firmly with his palm and pulled up, slowly twisting his wrist. The gentle pull in opposite directions cause the delicate skin of Klaus’ sac to stretch and sparks of pleasure to shoot through Klaus’ veins. Dave repeated the action, setting a steady rhythm. Klaus’ breath caught and he gripped the sheets tighter, a surge of sweet pleasure radiating from the firm pull of Dave’s hands.

The palm of his right hand still circling the head, Dave let his left hand move under Klaus’ balls and with firm, oil-slick fingers he gently massaged the delicate flesh of Klaus’ perineum.

Klaus grunted; the low push of Dave’s fingers somehow stimulating from the outside that hidden pleasure spot deep within him.

Panting and unable to remain still, Klaus alternated between little abortive thrusts up into Dave’s palm, and grinding down desperately onto the push of his fingers.

“Dave,” he panted. “Dave.”

Dave stared down at him, eyes wide and heart full. He could feel himself growing heavy between his own legs, but he ignored it, focusing instead on wringing every last drop of pleasure from the man before him.

Finally, when Klaus looked like he couldn’t take a second more, Dave took hold of him in his large hand and fisted Klaus’ hardness, pumping up and down with satisfyingly strong, fast pulls. His left hand kept up the firm massage of Klaus’ perineum, indirectly stimulating his sensitive prostate gland.

Klaus keened. After such a slow build, and then the maddeningly teasing touches, just the feeling of Dave’s hand on him there had Klaus moaning loudly. As the pressure and the throbbing tension increased, so did the volume of Klaus’ cries. He gripped the sheets, thrust his hips, screwed up his face and chanted Dave’s name between an inarticulate string of grunts and cries. He was so hard, so desperately, urgently hard. His world narrowed to delicious friction, the slap of skin-on-skin, and Dave… Dave… Dave… He was close, so wonderfully, painfully close. He felt himself rising, drawing closer, teetering on the edge, the firm, rhythmic pull of Dave’s hand urging him on. He caught his breath, his muscles contracted, his balls tightened, and then he was there, and he was cumming, and cumming, and cumming. Gasping and shaking, thick, hot spurts of cum releasing in wave after pulsing wave. Klaus’ mind blanked and everything was throbbing sensation, warm relief and the dull ache of release.

And then he was sinking back down, his body flooded with sweet relief and his mind foggy with bliss. He was vaguely aware of Dave shuffling near him, and then a warm cloth gently wiping over his stomach and his softening length. Then there was Dave’s hand on his face, stroking his thumb over his eyebrow and down his cheek. Klaus cracked his eyes open slightly.

“Davey,” he mumbled thickly, staring up groggily, “How do you want me?”

Dave’s cool lips pressed against his forehead.

“Just like this,” he whispered, pulling the duvet over him. “Tonight is just about you. Just close your eyes and sleep.”

And – limbs heavy and head fuzzy with the afterglow – Klaus did.

*******************************************************

“So,” Klaus said, looking at Dave over the top of his coffee. “Last night. What was with that technique at the end?”

Dave grinned.

They were sitting at their small kitchen table, soft and sleep rumpled. Klaus’ foot rested lightly against Dave’s ankle.

“It’s a full body massage technique I learned,” he yawned, bringing his hand up to ruffle through his adorable bedhead.

Klaus raised his eyebrow and gave him a questioning look. “From where?”

“A video,” Dave said simply.

“Oh right, a video.” Klaus replied smiling. “The how-to-massage-your-boyfriend-off video. I think I saw that on my Facebook feed recently.” Dave snorted. “Davey,” Klaus carried on. “Have you been watching porn without me?” He shot Dave a mock offended look and clasped a hand dramatically to his heart.

“Oh that,” Dave blew out, waving a dismissive hand. “It was nothing, just a bit research, nothing more.” Klaus carried on looking at him, waiting for what he knew was coming. “But…” Dave winked coyly, “I did get myself off after.” Klaus laughed.

“To be fair” Dave added, “it was that evening you all were battling those terrorists in the mineshaft. And I missed you, and wanted to think of something fun we could do when you got home. But then you were tired, so we just made pasta and cuddled on the sofa instead. Came in handy eventually though.”

Klaus smiled over at him, eyes filled with warmth and affection, his body loose and weightless and still humming with the memory of last night. “You know?” he said slowly. “Just when I think there’s no way I could feel any more for you than I already do, I realise I’m wrong, and I can.”

Dave simply stared back into Klaus’ eyes, no answer required. The look they shared was one of pride and respect and deep contentment. It spoke of devotion and aching tenderness and overwhelming joy. They didn’t need any more words. They both just knew.

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