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linkspooky · 4 months

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DOOMED SIBLINGS: THE TODOROKIS VS. THE FIRE NATION ROYAL FAMILY

I received an ask in my inbox about how Zuko doesn't owe Azula any forgiveness. Truthfully I wasn't even going to respond because this isn't an avatar blog, but then I watched this video.

Not only do I disagree with the basically everything in this video, but I am going to make the argument that both Zuko' and Azula's arcs are both incomplete with the way the show left the two of them in the final showdown.

In order to make my argument I'm going to compare Azula and Zuko's relationship in avatar to Shoto and Toya's relationship in My Hero Academia and use the latter as a more positive example.

Unnecessary Redemption Arcs

The common fandom opinion I want to argue against is this idea that Azula's ending is a perfect tragedy, and therefore doesn't need to be expanded upon. There's also a sentiment that redeeming Azula would somehow ruin the impact of this perfect tragedy.

I'm about to argue against both of these points.

Azula's arc doesn't work as a tragedy.

Because of this her arc is unsatisfying and unfinished.

I'm going to address the first bullet point but before that let me add another disclaimer. The reason why I think Azula's arc isn't an effectively written tragedy isn't because I like Azula.

Before we even get into the My Hero Academia comparison let me bring up something completely different. I do like Azula, but I like Terra Markov from Teen Titans a lot more and I would not change a thing about her tragic end.

AZULA'S ARC IS NOT A WELL-WRITTEN TRAGEDY

Terra in the comics is what a lot of people accuse Azula of being. She is stated in the text and by her creators to be an unfeeling sociopath. She was also never intended by her creators to be redeemed.

[About Terra] The very first time we see her, she’s trying to blow up the Statue of Liberty. It’s just that all the fans assumed because we went out of our way to make her cute — but not too cute, with the buck teeth and everything — everyone would assume that she was gonna become good by the end and that was never the case. First thing, we made a promise that day that we would never renege on our view that she’d never become good. It’s sometimes hard to do that with characters you like. You want them to become good or something like that. But we never liked the character enough—because we knew what we were doing with her—we never allowed ourselves to fall for the character. Because that’s bad. That’s bad storytelling. You’re doing what you want as a fan at that particular point, not as the creators. T

Now let me clarify, both creators of New Teen Titans say some nasty things about Terra and don't recognize her sexual abuse, but here's the thing. You don't have to read a story 100% the way the author intended, sometimes the story says one thing and the text says something different.

I am going to use Judas Contract as an example of a story where the character from the start was never intended to be redeemed and why that's a positive in this case.

Terra is a teenage girl, the bastard daughter of the king of Markovia and a random American woman who presumably has had no stable home her entire life because she's working as a mercenary at fifteen. She teams up with a man that is in his mid fifties and even starts a sexual relationship with him (this is statutory rape she cannot consent) and Deathstroke uses her to infiltrate the Teen Titans and learn as much as possible.

Terra is sent to live with the team and spy on them for several months. The whole time she only ever engages with them in a fake spunky persona, and never shows her real cutthroat self. She leads Beast Boy on in a fake romance to make him trust her and secure her place on the team. The way you'd usually expect this arc to go is that Terra would grow fond of the team and be torn in her loyalties.

Yeah, that never happens.

Terra loathes the Titans. In fact she's developed a superiority complex about her meta human abilities and she doesn't understand why anyone would use their powers to help others. She despises the concept of superheroes in general, and because of that never bonds with any of the Titans. Her feelings never change from start to finish, because her creators intentionally wrote her as a character that can't be redeemed.

Terra is written to be a psychopath, but even with that intention in mind there are scene that shows a greater range of emotions. She has what could amount to a trauma flashback when Beast Boy too aggressively flirts with her and tries to kiss her and she reacts violently, trying to bury him under the earth.

Let's go ahead and interpret Terra as what is used as the fictional definition of a "sociopath" that is someone who feels no bonds with other people, someone with shallow emotions and someone devoid of guilt. Even if we interpret her that way, her story is still meant to be read as a tragedy.

Terra succeeds in her mission of infiltrating the Titans. Slade captures most of them, and the only remaining member Dick Grayson goes missing. Dick Grayson then unites with Slade's son Jericho, and the two of them team up in order to rescue the rest of their friends.

Even after all she's done the Titans try to make pleas to Terra during the final battle, which she not only rejects but responds to with violence. Which only confirms what I said above, Terra never grew to love them, she never regretted her actions, she only ever engaged with them with lies.

(Terra always lies, Terra always lies, Terra always lies).

Terra is declared by Raven to be devoid of emotions: "Her thinking is unlike ours. She feels no true love or hate. Her soul is corrupt. What she does is done without remorse."

Even after Raven declares this, however she still pleads with Terra to stop because she's going to hurt herself. Terra feels Slade betrayed her because he favored his son Jericho over her, so she decides to take both Slade and the Titans down. As the Titans fight her she begins to mentally fall apart ignoring their appeals to her and lashing out at everything around her. Eventually she makes one last attempt to everything around her, but the Titans escape and she only manages to bury herself.

At no point in the fight do the Titans give up on trying to reach her even as she's loudly screaming how much she hates them. Even after she's buried and it looks like she's dead, Gar and Donna both try desperately to dig her up on the slim hope she's still alive. When they find the body they even give her a funeral afterwards, even though they all think that Terra was beyond redemption.

Even the prose narration that accompanies her death is incredibly melancholy and bemoans her fate, at the same time as it calls her a outright sociopath.

There's no reasoning with her now. However slim, whatever sanity Tara Markov possessed is gone. Now there is only primal hatred! Hatred born, nurtured, and fanned. Hatred that festers and grows without care, without feeling, without plan. her pursed lips part and the sounds which echoes force are garbled and inhuman. Hot, boiling blood gushes wildly from the earth's open wounds, its skin fractures and cracks, and if a world could cry, it surely would. Her name is Tara Markov and she is little more than sxiteen years old, and due to the fault of no one but herself she is insane. No one taught her to hate, yet she hates without cause, without reason. No one taught her to destroy, yet she destroys with glee, with relish. Don't look for reasons which do not exist, plainly Tara Markov is what she is, and she has taken a great power and made it as corrupt as she. Hers was the power over the earth itself she could have brought life to deserts, hat to the frozen tundra, food to sraving millions. She could have damned raging rivers, and tunneled water to packed lands dry and dead. her powers were limited only by the mind which controlled them. A mind which sought not hope, not love, not life, but death.

If you go with the text that she is just a sociopath beyond redemption who hates and hates and hates for no reason, the narrative still mourns her because a sixteen year old with her whole life ahead of being consumed by hatred and then dying because of it is in fact sad.

If you read into the subtext then you can argue that the events of the story, contradicts what the narration is telling us. Terra is being sexually groomed and groomed as a child soldier by a man who is much older than her, even if she thinks he's a partner he clearly has all power in the relationship.

If you think about it that way then Terra is the ultimate bad victim. She doesn't cry and call for help as a victim of sexual abuse, instead she tries to claim power for herself, she manipulates, and she destroys any chance she had for a genuine relationship because she only sees all relationships as transactions she can gain or lose from.

Even if you only go with the first interpretation, the narrative still remains tragic because the Titans themselves did not want to give up on her, they did not want to watch this sixteen-year-old girl destroy herself. They never stop reaching out for her and it doesn't work, because there was no way out for Terra but death.

Here's the thing I don't think Terra's status as a sexual victim automatically means an ending where she dies is offensive. It reflects a reality that victims like Terra often go unseen because they don't present their victimhood in palatable ways, and by the time anyone notices it's far too late. Sometimes tragedies are meant to reflect a reality where many people do not get saved.

There's two reasons that Judas Contract works as a tragic story. Number one the creators planned Terra's ending right from the beginning. Which meant they never gave her any moment where she shows that she's redeemable. There's no genuine bond between her and the titans, no wrestling with the guilt of her actions, nothing.

Number two, Judas Contract is Terra's story from beginning to end. It begins with her betrayal of the Titans, and ends with her death. The death is also brought upon herself by her fatal flaw her hatred, which is what makes her the protagonist of a tragedy. Tragedies are stories where heroes are undone by their flaws. Terra also goes out on her own terms. She buries herself underneath her own rocks. Her death is a direct consequence of her inability to let go of her hatred. Terra's not fridged for anybody else's arc, she retains her agency until the exact moment of her death.

To simplify into bullet points, Judas Contract works because:

The creators thought out what they wanted to do with Terra.

Judas contract is Terra's story.

Now, getting to the part where we actually talk about Avatar, and I start complaining about that awful, awful video.

AZULA'S ARC IS NOT WELL THOUGHT OUT

I just went on a long tangent on how Terra, a character written to have no redeemable qualities can still be tragic. How the creators marked her as clearly doomed from the start, and how she brought about her end on herself, how there no redemption for Terra. How this girl had no real chance, and how regardless of the fact Terra is a lil baby sociopath her fall is still tragic because of how well structured the tragedy is surrounding her.

It's awful to kill off a sixteen year old victim of sexual abuse, but the ending just fits because Terra represents a certain type of bad, unsympathetic victim who doesn't get saved.

Azula's arc isn't as well structured. The ending does not fit. I'm going to start by refuting some points in the awful, awful video I did not like.

"Maybe it's okay if Azula's story ends where it does in the series we would separate how we would treat a real 14-year-old girl from a villain in a series, ad that's why any redemption arc isn't need i a story after all. A character needs of deserves a redemption arc when it becomes the most meaningful way to explore their character and place in the story, but a character deserving redemption usually comes before the story really needing it, and I don't think Azula's done anything to deserve it yet. They've got to exhibit some willingness and action to change..."

So the main reason I'm using Terra as my first example is because Terra is the kind of character that Hello Future Me is describing. Terra was written with the specific intention she'd never experience a change of heart, all of the friendships she makes with the Titans are fake, she very loudly experiences no remorse, or even self-reflection over what she is. Terra's pretty proudly a monster and she never experiences any kind of self-doubt or regret over what she's become.

I can disprove right away Hello Future Me's blanket statement (with no actual cited examples, just trust him guys) that Azula never did anything to hint she may deserve redemption. That suggests Azula is an entirely selfish character who uses, manipulates and thinks she's right and worst of all is comfortable being the way she is, and therefore incapable of doing the self-reflection necessary for change.

Azula does show the capacity to do selfless actions several times in the narrative, and even consider the feelings of others. There's the apology scene with Ty Lee and the way she interacts with her friends in general with the Beach where when she's not fighting in a war or trying to complete a mission for her father Azula 1) interacts with her friends in a normal way and 2) seems to express a desire to experience normal relationships not the hierarchical ones she's experienced all of her life.

However, that's not the example I'm going to use as her save the cat moment. I generally intend to interpret that as a sign that even though she treats Mai and Ty Lee as subordinates and that power she holds over them eventually leads to them leaving her, their friendship isn't just Azula abusing them and lording her authority over their heads 24/7.

No, Azula's save the cat moments all revolve around Zuko. Which is funny, because the entire fandom seems to regard Azula as Zuko's evil little sister who exists to do nothing but torment her.

The first and biggest is Azula deciding to bring Zuko home in Ba Sing Se, and telling a lie to her father that he was the one to slay the avatar.

Ozai: I am proud of you, Prince Zuko. I am proud because you and your sister conquered Ba Sing Se. I am proud because when your loyalty was tested by your treacherous uncle, you did the right thing and captured the traitor. And I am proudest of all of your most legendary accomplishment: you slayed the Avatar.

Zuko: [Shocked.] What did you hear? Ozai: Azula told me everything. She said she was amazed and impressed at your power and ferocity at the moment of truth. [Inspired partly by this post]

Now the show seems to regard this action as Azula being an evil temptress who is there to tempt Zuko back to her side with everything he thinks he ever wanted.

That's only if you regard it from Zuko's perspective.

Think for a moment from Azula's perspective. Number one, Azula is someone thoroughly indoctrinated into Fire Nation propaganda who measures her self-worth based on 1) military achievement and 2) her father's approval and assessment of her talents. In Azula's own logic (wrongheaded as it is) she's helping Zuko. She's bringing him back home with his place in the line of succession restored and his father's approval.

Azula doesn't benefit from this gesture at all, in fact if her father discovers the lie she has as much to lose as Zuko does.

Now Zuko insinuates that Azula only brought Zuko along and told her father that he was the one who killed the avatar so she could let him take the fall if the avatar turned out to be alive.

However, if you look at the actual order of events that doesn't make sense. Azula saw the avatar die, she didn't know about the spirit water, and therefore had no way of knowing Aang could come back. In fact, it's Zuko who 1) knew about the spirit water and 2) decides to keep the spirit water and the fact the avatar might have survived a secret that is throwing Azula under the bus. After all she has as much to lose as he did and instead of sharing that information with her he decides to keep it all to himself.

Now Azula does imply that if the avatar were to turn out to be alive all of Zuko's glory would dry up, but this is only after Zuko 1) throws accusations at her and 2) makes it's pretty clear he's lying to her putting her on the defensive.

This is also a scenario where Azula doesn't have much to gain by bringing Zuko back, if you look at it from her perspective. If Azula just lets Zuko rot in a ba sing se prison, then her claim to the throne is secure. With Zuko back he's restored in the line of succession. She also, when making the decision to invite Zuko to her side probably didn't need him for her plan to succeed.

There is a dramatic moment of Zuko choosing to side with Azula over Katara which turns the tide in Azula's favor, but Azula can't see into the future and therefore wouldn't be able to predict that happening. If you look at it from Azula's perspective she 1) successfully infiltrated the city, 2) already had the Dai Lee in her pocket. She likely already thought she had the city secure at this point so her decision to extend a hand out to Zuko is therefore likely motivated by selflessness instead of self-interest.

That's important because usually when Azula usually only gives her help to others if it also benefits her in some way. Azula might genuinely see her recruiting Mai and Ty Lee to her side as a member of the royal family extending her favor and giving them status and security in their positions but it has the underlying motivation of 1) she keeps them in a position to beneath her and therefore in her complete control.

Azula will interact with Mai and Ty Lee like friends on the surface, as long she maintains control over them, but if they do anything to something that displeases her she'll do anything to regain her control.

Mai: I thought you ran off and joined the circus. You said it was your calling. Ty Lee: Well, Azula called harder.

This is set up in Azula's very first interaction with Ty Lee. Azula greets her like an old friends, Ty Lee even seems happy to see her, but the second Ty Lee tries to say no to her Azula goes to extreme lengths to "persuade her". Azula's friendship with Mai and Ty Lee is an abusive friendship because there is a power differential and even if Azula feels genuine affection for them both it's clear they're not allowed to say no. Mai and Ty Lee are put into positions where it's in their best interest to please her, and live in fear of the consequences if they don't do just that.

Here's the thing, I'm not arguing that Azula didn't deserve any consequences for her actions. I'm arguing that the setup doesn't match her eventual ending. Azula is set up to have Mai and Ty Lee leave her from the very first scene that Azula interacts with Ty Lee. It's satisfying because the set up matches the pay off.

It's also tragic because it's Azula continuing the chain of abuse. The video isn't entirely wrong (which is why they came to the wrong conclusion frustrating).

Azula's fall is about how differenting parenting styles can a child. Ozai's affection is exchanged for being useful. Something Azula would go on to repeat with her friends, whereas Iroh's affection is something freely given with patience for imperfections and failures, something Zuko goes then on to repeat.

It's like... there it is it's so close. Here's the thing, Azula is set up for a tragic falling out with Mai and Ty Lee (and one she deserves) but the set up is different with Zuko. Azula's save the cat moment revolves around Zuko, and her genuine attempt to bring her brother home.

Yes, the first time Azula interacts with Zuko in season 2, she tries to take him home by force. However, by the ending of the season Azula's perspective on the matter has obviously changed because she begins by trying to bring him back as a prisoner, and by the end of the season invites him back as an equal.

There's no moment in Season 3 where Azula treats Zuko the way she does Mai and Ty Lee (unless Zuko provokes it first and puts her on the defensive) in fact most of her interactions are either them interacting normally (such as when Azula goes to find Zuko at their old beach house because she knows he'll be there and advises he leave instead of dwelling on their depressing memories) or Azula deliberately trying to look out for Zuko such as when she advises him not to go visiting with Uncle because it'll make others suspicious.

On the other hand, Zuko never at any point looks out for his sister the way Azula is demonstrated looking out for him. He doesn't say, try to tell her where he's going on the Day of Black Sun, or try to convince her the fire nation is wrong. There's a scene in the later part of Season 3 where Zuko is watching Azula fall to her death while sitting on a flying bison and not only sits there and does nothing about it, but sounds disappointed when she doesn't hit the ground and become an Azula Pancake.

That's pretty much the opposite of a save the cat moment. It's a "let the cat fall to their death" kind of moment.

Yes they were enemies at that point, but Zuko's the one who's supposed to learn that affection is something freely given with patience for imperfections and failures, something Zuko goes then on to repeat.

How exactly is he doing that in this scene?

The thing is... this setup doesn't have to be bad. Of course Zuko has trouble has trouble empathizing with Azula, he doesn't even think about sending a letter to Mai, Zuko's shown at this point to be like a healing abuse victim who's understandably focused on himself.

This in fact could be excellent set up with step 1) learning what genuine love and forgiveness is and 2) demonstrating those two things by applying it to others.

However, that's not where we got. We got Zuko watching his sister have a complete emotional breakdown, crying and screaming while chained to a grate and looking somewhat sad.

And once again to bring Terra into this, Terra is what Stay at Home and parts of fandom argue that Azula is. Terra screams at the top of her lungs how much she hates the Titans, how much she was always lying to them, and the Titans STILL try to reach Terra with words, try to de-escalate the conflict, when she's about to bring the rocks falling down on herself warn her she's going to hurt herself, and then when she's buried under rubble try to dig her out begging for her too still be alive.

Terra who's intentionally created by her writers to be as hatable as possible, is shown more compassion by the heroes in her ending than Zuko ever does to Azula. They also give Terra multiple opportunities to change until literally the very last minute, which Zuko doesn't do either.

What's set up is Azula has this save the cat moment with her brother, that Zuko is pretty much the only person she doesn't treat like a subordinate in the story (because she just like Zuko has a craving for familial love she tries to earn from her father). However, her ending with Zuko just taking her down doesn't fit that setup.

Azula's ending only fits if you consider her arc entirely from Zuko's perspective, which is the underlying issue. Azula's not the protagonist of her own tragedy, she's a plot object that's used to benefit Zuko's arc.

Azula's is written to have a downfall, the same way that Zuko loses everything at the ending of season 1 b/c of his inability to give up on the obsessive search for the avatar (and his father's love with it). Azula is written to be left by Mai and Ty Lee (this is the strongest point of writing when it comes to her since it comes from the beginning).

However, she's not written to be left completely alone and insane with the only empathy being shown is that her brother looks kinda sorta sad. That's only good if you view her as an object to further Zuko's arc, because isn't the ultimate culmination of Zuko beating his sister who has always been ahead of him at life? Azula needs to torn down completely without even some small glimpse of a hope of recovery so Zuko can be built up even moreor at least the writers of avatar seem to think so.

However, even Azula just existing for Zuko's growth and character development doesn't have to necessarily be a bad thing. This is where we get to MHA, which does the tragic siblings and the final Ag Ni Kai about 1000 times better with Shoto and Dabi.

THE GOOD

The comparisons between Shoto and Dabi to Zuko and Azula are made pretty often by the fandom. Shoto has a scar, Dabi has blue flames. Shoto has an arc about healing and learning what it means to be a hero, Dabi's arc is about self-destruction.

Dabi's not the center of his own story, he exists to foil Shoto and help Shoto reach the endpoint of his character development however that's not necessarily a bad thing. These are both two pairs of tragic siblings, the main difference is that MHA doesn't feel the need to tear down one sibling in order to build up the other. In fact, the final step to Shoto's arc is HELPING Dabi, not PUTTING HIM DOWN.

Not only that but the decision to help Dabi is a decision that Shoto makes on his own, and him going against the tide of a society that has already given up on Dabi and would much rather have Shoto shoot Dabi like a mad dog. Which makes the decision to do so even more powerful and emblematic of Shoto's growth.

Now you could say that Shoto and Zuko are too different to compare their arcs, Zuko has a redemption arc, and Shoto has what most people would probably term a healing arc. Shoto starts out the series as a hero.

However, this is what annoys me about the redemption arc debate. A redemption arc is really just a normal character arc. However, calling it redemption drags things like morality and forgiveness into the debate. if you take remove the discussion about moral philosophy both Zuko and Shoto have character arcs where they start the story defined entirely by their home situations and their father's abuse (hence why they have big obvious scars on their face), recover from their trauma, and go on to find an identity outside of their father and form healthy non-abusive connections with others.

In fact I'd see the theme of both arcs are the same, to literally find balance within themselves. Shoto is divided quite literally into right and left sides, fire and ice, and even seems to view himself as half of his father and half of his mother. Zuko is someone who's permanently marked and dishonored by the burn scar on his face. He suffers from an internal imbalance as well. Iroh says that Zuko is the descendant of both Roku and Sozin and therefore both pathways are open to him (but wouldn't that apply to Azula too). Zuko says to his father that the fire nation has destroyed the balance to the world and he's going to leave to assist the avatar in order to fix it.

Shoto's balance isn't just about fixing his internal trauma though, it's also about finding a balance between his family which has defined his entire life up until this point, and his desire to become his own hero not the hero his father groomed him into.

It's why the culmination of his arc is Shoto reaching out to save his family member Toya, because it's the ultimate balance in wanting to heal his family, and also the kind of hero he wants to be, someone who saves and brings peace to others instead of just violently putting down villains. He can bring peace to his family and become his own hero in one action.

However, let's go back to the beginning of Shoto's arc, because saving Toya as an endpoint to his arc is set up pretty early on.

Shoto's arc begins with Deku, a stranger breaking down Shoto's walls as an outsider in order to allow him to look past his own trauma and recall for the first time what he wanted outside of his resentment towards his father. This sets up the idea early on for Shoto that sometimes you need outside interference, help you didn't ask for, especially when you can't see outside of your own problems.

What Deku brings about ultimately is a change of perspective, Shoto's so hurt by the memory of his mother throwing boiling water in his face and everything that came after that he can't recall the memory of her telling him he could be who he wanted to be.

But, you want to be a hero right?

Shoto takes away two things from this arc, sometimes you need help even when you're not asking for it, and sometimes a change in respective is required in order to take the first step forward.

He goes to demonstrate these things multiple times, but here's two exaamples. The first Shoto demonstrates immediately after the tournament arc. When Iida is about to go down a dark path and commit a revenge killing on Stain. When, as a result of that IIDA is paralyzed and about to die in an alleyway, it's Shoto who both notices Midoriya and Iida are missing and shows up in the clutch. He's practicing the same thing that Deku taught him in the last arc: Giving help that's not asked for is what makes a true hero.

He even mentions the second idea, that a small change in perspective can be all it takes to save someone, and he wants to do for Iida hat Deku did for him. His words are the one who convinces Iida to stand back up again when he's paralyzed.

If you wanna stop this, then stand up. Because I've got one thing to say to you. Never forget who you want to become!

However Shoto's arc doesn't end here, because one of the major conflicts in MHA is that heroes don't pick and choose who to save and a true hero will give help even to those people who don't ask for it.

This is a point which further develops when Shoto's abusive father starts to show a change of heart at the end of the Pro Hero Arc. Shoto still holds his father accountable for what he did in the past, but he also acknowledges that if he had the capacity to change then so does Enji. This isn't about whether or not Enji is forgivable, this is an extension of what Shoto learned. Shoto originally believed he was controlled by the circumstances of his birth, that his fate was set in stone, but a change in perspective allows him to realize he can determine who he wants to be. So, Shoto is just applying what he's learned, Enji has the capacity to grow.

There's one final piece of setup that I want to cover before showing how these separate dies all culminate in saving Dabi. Shoto's not only someone who has to find balance between his family and his desire to be a hero.

The theme of balance is written into the quirk itself. Enji basically practiced eugenics to create Shoto as his masterpiece. He noticed a flaw in his own quirk where he could only make his flames so hot without overheating. So he arranged a quirk marriage with Rei who possessed an ice quirk to create a hybrid ice and fire quirk that he could use to cool himself off to prevent him from overheating.

Enji only ever cared about the fire half of Shoto's quirk. His ice quirk only exists for his flames to grow stronger. This is shown when Enji is trying to force Shoto to learn all of his signature moves, because he only cares about Shoto's flame quirk. Shoto was created to carry on his father's legacy, and surpass him with an even more powerful flame quirk. Part of his character development is him learning how to use his quirk in his own way.

This is a theme that continues in the class training arc where Enji is still repeating the behavior of trying to force Shoto to learn his signature moves instead of considering what he wants at all, because still Shoto only exists in Enji's mind to carry on his legacy.

This all culminates in Toya's decision to save his brother. The first is his action in choosing to identify with his brother. If Shoto believes in his own capacity to change, and even his father's, then why would he deny Toya that same chance to change?

The foiling between Shoto and Toya isn't supposed to reduce the two of them to "Shoto is the good one, and he's the bad one", but instead Shoto and Toya were both in a point where they were consumed by hatred and couldn't see any other path in life. Therefore if Shoto was able to change because someone gave him help when he didn't ask for it, then Toya not only has the capacity to change - but in order for Shoto to stick to his stated beliefs that the smallest of things can bring about a change in people he has to be the one to give his brother that chance to change.

It's not about whether Dabi is worthy or not, it's about the themes in Shoto's arc finally being paid off.

Shoto's identifying with Toya, and even parts where he tells Bakugo he'll make Toya sit down and make Toya tell him his favorite food indicate that from the beginning Shoto's intention was to find a way to stop Toya without killing him (which is what several of the adult heroes were encouraging him to do).

@stillness-in-green does a more succinct summary of this plan.

Just me?

Because, like, Shouto had a plan. He spent the time between the two war arcs specifically developing a brand-new combat technique that he planned to use to shut down Dabi's combat advantage without killing him. He convinced his dad not to change the plan like Endeavor was hesitantly sounding him out about[1]; he went out and talked and asked questions, and even if they weren't the right words every single time, he did his best and he did it with intention. If Dabi proves to be dead, it won't be because of anything Shouto did to him; it'll be because Dabi himself chose to stand back up, take a warp gate across the country, pick a fight with the guy who doesn't have the power set to shut him down without unduly hurting him, and trying to replicate an Ultimate Move specifically tailored for someone with a balanced power set Dabi doesn't have. And if Dabi lives, it's still going to be because Shouto booked it across the country and used that same technique to stop him again.

Shoto's decision to save Shoto is also a continuation of his decision to help save Iida from Stain. It's not enough for Shoto to experience a change of heart about his own life, he's got to take what he learned about people's capacity to change, and the importance of connections and then put that into practice and help others the way he was helped.

However, it also further develops the theme of giving help that's not ask for from Iida because Shoto's not saving a mostly heroic kid, he's saving Toya to help break a familial cycle of abuse (because murdering the abuse victim isn't how you end the cycle of abuse... actually).

Shoto's last lines to Dabi are also a refutation of this idea of destiny that he once thought he was ruled by. It's once again, Shoto teaching someone else the lesson he learned. Toya says a warped rail can never mingle with a straight and narrow one! In other words Shoto can never understand or get along with Dabi, because Dabi will forever be defined as the failure because of the circumstances of his brith, whereas Shoto will always be the success.

His final action is a decision to break the cycle they were born into: no, we're gonna mingle whether you like it or not.

Shoto's ultimate move Phosphor is not only a move he designed far in advance to take down Dabi non-lethally, it also is a rejection of his father's teaching method. Toya says he only ever taught me how to turn up the heat. Enji only valued both Shoto and Toya for their flame quirks. Developing his own quirk and breaking away from what his father wanted, specifically in order to save his brother. It's Shoto rejecting what his father created both of them for (a successor to his quirk) and finding his own path. By using that move to take down Dabi he's not only teaching Dabi their flame exists for more than just destruction, he's also by letting Dabi live giving Dabi a chance.

From a conversation with @class1akids

Dabi was the last push to unlock Shoto’s full power. Until then he was on the track of mastering flashfire like Endeavor planned for him (except for his own reasons) but realising the fighting Dabi with fire was gonna kill them both and also he’s simply no match fire only helped Shoto to fully take control of what his quirk is Like his quirk development goes parallel with how he faces each member of his family and finally meeting Toya is like the last piece of his puzzle to find his own full power and identity.

It's not just Shoto decides to save his brother because he's just that nice, his arc is literally incomplete without it. The act of creating phosphor a move specifically to save Dabi is both him unlocking the full power of his quirk (by balancing the fire and ice sides of his quirk) but also achieving balance between trying not to leave his family behind while at the same time becoming his own person and hero outside of his family circumstances.

Citing my conversation with class1akids again:

Toya is endangering everyone at Gunga. Endeavor has no means to stop him and when he tries to murder suicide Rei interrupts and his “hero way out” is taken. All he can do is watch helplessly as his family is about to burn to death with a bunch of strangers he tried to protect. But it would do Shoto dirty to use his heart technique to kill his family and the strangers so he comes in a clutch and I see that confrontation as the power trauma vs the power of healing in the family. With Shoto who is a true hero, they can put the fire out and save the family and strangertoo. Shoto become a balanced hero and bring relief and reassurance, Endeavor was completely helpless, and Toyas inner child got the attention he wanted, plus depending on how you read it, he may have become less suicidal.

Shoto also, and I want to point this out desires to stop his brother not to take him down but because he doesn't want him to hurt any more people. He's again finding a balance between two ideas 1) Shoto needs to stop his brother in order to stop him from creating more victims and 2) Shoto needs to find a way to stop him that's not just putting him down because Toya himself is a victim.

Shoto also, and I must point this out for the comparison between Zuko and Azula goes out of his way to engage Dabi in conversation, ask him why he didn't come home and what happened to him in the years after he died. This is especially poignant because unlike Zuko and Azula who grew up together, Shoto basically had no relationship with his brother (and the rest of his siblings really) before Toya died because Enji purposefully kept Shoto separate from all the "failures."

So yes, the act of saving Toya is more for the completion of Shoto's arc than any redemption arc for Toya but Toya's not just a plot object to move around for Shoto's arc, Toya has his own agency all throughout. In fact it's the fact that Toya resists being saved every step of the way that provides the challenge that Shoto needs to grow in order to be able to save him.

Toya's not just after revenge against his father that's the surface reason, Toya is also just blatantly suicidal. Toya's birth is marked as a failure, his death wasn't even acknowledged by his family and everything stayed the same in his absence, so he created Dabi while praying at his own shrine in order to mourn Toya. Dabi can't find any meaning in his life where he was born as a failure, so he'll use his death taking revenge against Endeavor for having been born in order to give his life meaning.

What makes Avatar look especially bad in its treatment of Azula in comparison to how MHA treats Dabi, is that Dabi is way, way less redeemable than Azula. For one Azula has clearly proven affection both her friends and her brother (and I don't think she even deserves Mai and Ty Lee's forgiveness they had every right to walk out on her and want nothing to do with her again.)

Dabi is probably the ugliest victim of the League of Villains. The rest of the league have far more moments in their bonds with each other. Toya is the outsider to the league even if there are some subtle hints to his affection (he tries to show up to save Twice, and also burns down Toga's family house to comfort her). The villains are mostly shown to be redeemable by their positive friendship with each other, and Dabi at several points denies the league's bond (he pulls a Terra and yells out loud at the top of his lungs none of the league matter to him). Unlike with Terra you can argue this is most likely Dabi trying to cover up his real feelings. However, the fact that he feels the need to hide his affection from the league shows he's purposefully distancing himself from any bonds whatsoever.

Unlike Azula who has gone out of her way to help her brother in one major way, and also shows hints in early season 3 of having that sibling bond with him Dabi just straight up wants to murk Toya. Azula also tries to murk Zuko, but that's only when Zuko leaves on the day of Black Sun (one without telling her, and two something that probably left her alone to deal with the consequences of lying to her father for his sake). Either way, Azula's behavior in early season 3 is setup for the fact that their sibling bond can be salvaged.

Dabi is way worse to Shoto in comparison. Dabi in the first part never saw Shoto as his own person, just a puppet of his father (puppets have no autonomy or personhood). His feelings towards Shoto only went so far as Shoto was someone who could kill in order to upset Enji. Dabi also doesn't particularly care for the rest of his family as well (only calling out Natsu's name when his brain is literally melting), they're either ways to hurt endeavor, or he wants to drag them in hell with him. Heck his last words after being saved is telling everyone to die and go to hell.

Dabi doesn't bother to make bonds with the league or have any lingering affection for his family because Dabi's determined to seslf destruct. He's given up on life the moment he saw that he died and nothing changed in that household, now all that's left is for him to create a meaningful death by dragging his family to hell with him.

Dabi is also even as a child made out to be an unpleasant victim. He attacks baby Shoto with his flames early on out of jealousy (even though he later admits that he was being unfair to Shoto). He makes the situation in the house worse by loudly screaming and demanding his father's attention. He screams at his mother and throws her complicity in Enji's abuse in her face.

This is in comparison to Shoto who in childhood flashbacks we are only ever seen either 1) crying, and 2) trying to comfort and protect his mother. Toya's even made out to be difficult to empathize with as a child - which like flew over half of the fandom's heads because he got accusations of somehow abusing his father and the rest of his family in that chapter at 10 years old. However, that in a way illustrates my point.

The fact that Dabi is so disliked by a certain portion of the fandom is because Horikoshi paints such an ugly portrait of Toya in the way he expresses his victimhood. It's done deliberately too, because number one Toya by resisting Shoto's attempts to save him and trying to self destruct instead retains agency as a character. He makes decisions even though they're bad self destructive ones, he's not just a prop. Number two, the fact that Toya is intentionally portrayed as such an ugly victim makes Shoto's decision to break the cycle of familial abuse by saving Toya and not leaving a single family member all the more poignant.

Toya is an uglier victim than Azula, actively trying to kill himself in a way that Azula isn't, and treats Shoto way worse than Azula ever treated Zuko and yet Azula isn't shown the sympathy or given the salvation that Toya is.

Because once again, the writers didn't think about the ending of Azula's arc or of Azula as her own character. Shoto defeating Toya is the culmination of his desire to break the cycle of abuse in his family. Zuko putting Azula down is just to make Zuko look better. It's in service of Zuko's character instead of both of their characters.

THE BAD

Avatar isn't setting up some gritty ending where the bad guys can't be stopped, they can only be killed. In fact it's pretty close in tone to MHA.

Season 3 especially is the season that really begins to hammer in on the themes that even the people on the enemy side are still human after all. The headband shows that Fire Nation children are indoctrinated into the war, but they are in the end still children. There's the story between Avatar Roku and Sozin, and once again Iroh saying that Zuko has both options becoming like Roku or becoming like Sozin available to him (but not Azula I guess). There's Zuko joining Team Avatar, even after he betrayed Katara in Ba Sing Se and should have burnt that bridge then and there. There's Zuko working to earn their trust again when no one on the team really owe it to him.

The main character of the show is a pacifist, who deliberately learns a way to stop Ozai without killing him before the final battle because he doesn't want to break the values taught to him by his culture.

If the entire theme of season 3 is redemption, healing and that the fire nation are not inherently evil then why does Zuko's sister and character foil end the last shot of the series screaming and crying with no one comforting or even attempting to sympathize with her. Why is this one character marked for tragedy in a show that is about redemption and healing and showing compassion to your enemies and very specifically not a tragedy.

Toya literally burns all of the flesh off of his body, and somehow he has a gentler ending than Azula, because at least Toya's arc ends with all the members of his family showing up to try to cool down his flames, and when he's on the ground burnt to a crisp his father finally apologizes to him. Toya is a skinless burnt chicken wing, my boy has no skin, and somehow he's better off than Azula.

I don't think the writers gave Azula such a cruel ending because they don't like her, but rather because they just didn't think about her ending outside of what it meant for Zuko. Which is why you get moments like Aang who is apparently a pacifist who doesn't want to kill the Firelord, watching his daughter fall to her death while sitting on a flying bison and doing absolutely nothing to save her. ALL LIFE IS PRECIOUS (except for Azula I guess).

It's not bad because a victim doesn't get saved, it's bad because it doesn't fit in with the rest of the story.

Not only is Zuko saving Azula a very natural conclusion to his arc, but there's far more setup for Zuko reaching out to his sister and saving her than there ever was for Toya and Shoto. Both Toya and Terra are screaming at the top of their lungs "I HATE EVERYONE, YOU SHOULD ALL JUST GO TO HELL." They're both making decisions and committing to their self destruction while Azula is a 14 year old girl having a mental breakdown.

Anyway, time to quote the bad bad video again.

"When does a villain deserve a redemption arc? When do we deserve a redemption arc? I know this is gonna hurt, but characters are not people. They are tools. They are represetations of people. They can be used to say other things. They can be symbolic representation of other ideas. Azula's story is not just about a fourteen year old defeated by her brother for the throne, Azula is Zuko's character foil, where she is ruthless and practical, Zuko is empathetic and emotional. Where Azula's a prodigy, Zuko has to work hard to earn eve a fraction of her power.

I specifically chose to cite MHA, because of how differently it decided to use Shoto and Toya's character foiling. Shoto recognizes himself in Toya, and how different their paths were in life. This is explicitly motivates him to save Toya. It's also the culmination of everything that Shoto has learned because Shoto is a hero who believes that actions speak louder than words. It's not enough for Shoto to resolve his own inner struggle, he also has to help Dabi with his because that's showing Shoto has grown rather than telling us.

I think that is where the major difference lies between Shoto and Zuko, we're told that Zuko has chosen the path of empathy and healing, that he's learned to give people love and patience like Iroh has but instead of showing that the culmination of his arc is having a fist fight with his sister in a denny's parkinglot.

Azula is Zuko's character foil, where she is ruthless and practical, Zuko is empathetic and emotional. Where Azula's a prodigy, Zuko has to work hard to earn eve a fraction of her power.

If Zuko is empathic and emotional and that is why he's gained friends while Azula is now alone after having lost her friends due to the way she treated them, then like... what a great opportunity for Zuko to SHOW that quality of empathy.

However, Zuko doesn't do anything that Shoto does in the final fight. He's not even here for Azula, Azula's just an obstacle for taking back the crown. He doesn't talk to Azula, engage her in any way, try to de-escalate and avoid the fight.

If you want to make the tragedy that Azula and Zuko have taken such different paths in life that that Zuko fighting with his sister is unavoidable you could um... at least show Zuko being sad over the prospect of fighting his sister or being reluctant in any way.

(Before you come in here with "Zuko doesn't owe Azula anything take" this isn't about whether or not Azula is a terrible sister to Zuko, this is about the story that avatar is attempting to tell. Shoto and Dabi's fight is tragic because Shoto doesn't want to fight Dabi, he wants Dabi to come home and for their family to be complete. Zuko never expresses anything like that so where does the tragedy come from?)

If it were 100% committed to a tragedy like Terra's death then I wouldn't mind. if it were 100% committed to a story of redemption like Shoto reaching out to Toya then I wouldn't mind. My issue arises from the fact they want to have their cake and eat it too.

They want to give this tragic end to Azula, and use it to illustrate how Zuko has grown as a character. However, you can't have both.

If Zuko's growth is about learning that his father's love based on achievement and 2) learning he needed to get lost in life in order to find himself then why doesn't any of Zuko's actions demonstrate this lesson Zuko has learned about love, and about how you can be your own person outside what your father expects from you.

If Zuko has grown as a character he should be able to show those actions. He does show his new understanding of love and friendship to Team Avatar, but as I said that's easy mode. That's Shoto's attempts to save Iida, it's a step in the right direction. It's also not really Zuko demonstrating a selfless love, because he's also at the same time trying to earn their trust and earn his way into the group.

It's also not Zuko breaking the cycle of abuse in their family in any way. Shoto is trying to break free from his role of his father's masterpiece, and at the same time helping Dabi break free from his view that he's the failure.

It's also such a natural ending for Zuko's arc, to take the lessons he learned from Iroh and give them to his sister who needs them so they can both break away from their father's parenting. As I said Zuko does solve the internal conflict within himself, but he doesn't really demonstrate that by helping someone else find their balance.

If you wanted the tragic end, then it would have to be about Zuko's failure to reach out to his sister, because he hasn't learned how to reach out to her. Or because he tries and is unable to. The writers don't seem to understand that though, they think the tragedy is about Azula bringing it all on herself, and not the inherent tragedy of a fourteen year old girl being unable to be saved.

The set up is right there too, because number one avatar is about balance. So, wouldn't the true ending be finding balance between the siblings, not having Zuko rise and Azula fall. Number two, Azula being alone and friendless because of her own actions is again a parallel to where Zuko was in early season 2 at his lowest point. Except Zuko can be the better person in this situation by reaching out to her.

Zuko doesn't break the golden child / scapegoat dynamic, he just flips it so now he's the success and Azula is the failure.

While Azula's fall comes from cruelty and rejection from friends and allies it is Zuko's humility and kindness and friendship that ultimately wins the day. Him sacrifcing herself for Katara and her bringing Azula down and then her healing him. Azula ending up imprisoned isn't something happening to a real person, it's a deliberative narrative choice by the author to say something about how people like this isolate themselves and end up alone. "

As I've stated above, I'm not saying Azula didn't deserve to take a fall. Her fall is actually set up from the first moment she met Ty lee. However, there's no set up for her fall being permanent.

Azula's given way more humanizing moments than characters like Terra or even Dabi. Which is why Azula being in an insane asylum for the rest of her life doesn't fit as an ending at all.

Azula is one link in the chain of abuse. Her father only gives out affection in regards to her usefulness. No matter what Azula is an asset first and a daughter second. Azula then repeats the cycle and treats her friends the same way. She has been shown through an improper model of parenting of using fear to dominate others with power and control and she replicates that in her other relationships.

Therefore, Ty lee and Mai leaving her is not only deserved, it's the perfect opportunity to pull the rug underneath Azula and to show her that her understanding of how relationships work is completely wrong.

This also mirrors Zuko's arc, because part of Zuko's arc is realizing just how wrong Ozai is for making both children earn his love, and that he doesn't need to measure his self-worth based upon his father's approval. He also learns about healthy expressions of trust and friendship from the gang.

Azula loses in part due to her own inability to form healthy relationships is losing people rapid fire, her brother leaves and joins the enemy side, Mai and Ty Lee betray her in favor of her brother, then her father in one action of leaving Azula behind and throws the title of Firelord to her after it's become completely meaningless reminds her of her place. Azula learns in about five episodes what Zuko had in 3.5 seasons to process that her father's love was always conditional and no matter what she did she would never truly "earn it."

People leaving Azula isn't exactly the problem, the problem is that Azula ends up alone permanently without being given the same chance that Zuko is. Terra, and Toya both get opportunities to turn back. They both refuse the hand that's reaching out to him. Mai and Ty Lee leaving is caused by Azula's own choices, but her ultimate end isn't. She's not even given the chance to turn away being saved like Terra and Toya do because Zuko doesn't even bother to try saving her. Her ending is not entirely brought about by her own choices, because the writers need her to take a fall to uplift Zuko.

Azula ending up imprisoned isn't something happening to a real person, it's a deliberative narrative choice by the author to say something about how people like this isolate themselves and end up alone.

I think once again it comes from the author's misunderstanding things because they don't want to look at the story from Azula's perspective, only Zuko's.

Stay at Home almost had it when he said the tragedy of Zuko and Azula was there to show how two different parenting styles affected these children.

The tragedy is that Zuko and Azula started in the same place, but Zuko had persistent guidance and someone who modeled for him a healthy kind of love. The difference is that Azula has never experienced any kind of healthy love or support on the level Zuko has, so she models all her relationships on the way her father treats her. It's not that Azula is offered some chance for change and rejects it, it's that Azula isn't even aware of the fact that there's another way because no one is there to show it to her.

Which is why I said once again, Zuko being the first one to show Azula the lessons he himself was shown by Iroh is such a natural place for his character to end.

Azula also even while completely alone and with no idea what healthy love is, knows that there is something wrong with her and is troubled by that fact in a way Dabi and Terra aren't.

Azula: I can sit here and complain about how our mom liked Zuko more than me. But I don't really care. My own mother... thoguht I was a monster... She was right of course, but it still hurt.

Then there's the famous mirror scene:

Ursa: I didn't want to miss my own daughter's coronation. Azula:Don't pretend to act proud. I know what you really think of me. You think I'm a monster. Ursa: think you're confused. All your life you used fear to control people, like your friends Mai and Ty Lee. Azula: Well what choice do I have?! Trust is for fools. Fear is the only reliable way. Even you fear me. Ursa: No. I love you, Azula. I do.

Both of these scenes indicate that Azula thinks of herself as a monster and is deeply uncomfortable with the idea. Considering Ursa is a voice in Azula's head and not a ghost, it also shows on some level Azula knew what she did to Mai and Ty Lee was wrong and feels conflicted over it.

Once again she's much more in conflict with herself than Toya and Terror ever are, and who's someone who's constantly warring with himself? Who's someone who could help resolve her inner conflict... Zuko (too bad the way the show's written he never does).

Azula doesn't choose to self-destruct the way that Terra and Toya did. Azula's ending isn't brought about by her choice not to change, because she's never given the chance to change in the first place. Her tragic ending would make sense if it was entirely of her own choices, but Azula doesn't retain her agency in the end it's literally taken away from her. She loses control of her mind, and her ending is being chained to a grate screaming and then thrown into an asylum.

I'm not arguing against Azula's ending because she's my favorite character and I don't want bad things to happen to her. It's because her tragedy isn't about her it's about Zuko, and her ending actively takes agency away from her where at least Toya and Terra both retain their agency up until the end. It's not good writing because the tragedy doesn't fit in with the rest of the story which is about balance and healing - and it's also ableist as hell.

THE UGLY

Azula's ending is unfitting to the tone of the story she's in, makes her and Zuko's arcs feel incomplete, and also is ableist as hell.

Here's yet more evidence that Azula's tragic ending is poorly thought out. Azula's mental breakdown doesn't exist in service of her character, but Zuko's.

Azula's issues pop up out of nowhere after episode 15, and take place over the last 6 episode of the series. The idea of Azula having a mental breakdown isn't necessarily a bad concept, but it's executed poorly.

The first way it's executed poorly is just how rushed it is. There's basically no hints of any mental instability beforehand. Of course people can have mental breakdowns spontaenously like that in real life, but this is a story and stories require foreshadowing. Azula spontaneously developing mental issues doesn't feel like it's planned as a part of an arc. First off, because the writers don't seem too sure about what Azula's symptoms even are. Hallucination, paranoia, manic laughter, but apparently she's still able to bend lightning just fine. Secondly, the writer's intentions for giving Azula a mental breakdown are pretty transparent.

The writer's room needed to come up with a believable reason why Zuko would suddenly be able to fight on equal terms with Azula, so boom sudden mental illness. The intent was not to create a sympathetic portrayal of a young girl struggling with both paranoia and delusions. The intent was to nerf Azula because they couldn't think of any other way this plot could end, other than Zuko and Azula fighting in a denny's parkinglot.

As I said they use mental illness as a plot device to take Azula's agency and choices away from her. It's not done with the intention of humanizing her, and in fact except for one small scene with her talking to her mother in the mirror it's a pretty negative and unsympathetic portrayal of mental illness. Not because the writers hate mentally ill people, but because they needed Azula to have a mental breakdown in order for a plot point to happen. Which is why they didn't think of the potential implciations of such a writing choice at all.

Now, people are going to argue about me so I'll use one final example. Azula's ending may be controversial but it's universally agreed upon that the Game of Thrones Ending was bad, right?

Game of Thrones uses mental illness as the exact same plot device, to explain why Daenerys Targaryen turns from a hero to villain in the last few episodes with absolutely no foreshadowing. In fact, the all of the show director's interviews about that choice are just blatantly ableist.

Rant from @hamliet

This quote is (likely unintentionally) gaslighting, ableist, terrible logically, and downright offensive.

First, ableism: why, why, why are we conflating madness with evil? She was driven to madness so she killed a bunch of people and had to be put down? And you think this is a great message in the year of our Lord 2019? [...] Additionally, while good writing is to an extent subjective, there are general consensuses on what make good writing--and Game of Thrones hit all the general consensuses for bad writing, from bad pacing to confusing character assassination. Critics are like, pretty united on this front. No one thought Dany’s turn made sense, even the ones who expect Mad Queen in the books. Maybe if people love a character who is meant to be evil you're not writing them correctly... or maybe they aren't meant to be evil.

Daenerys and Azula are incredibly similiar characters. They're both dragon themed, alligned with the element of fire, they're both colonizers they both represent the warrior princess archetype.

I'd say Daenerys is more of a tragic heroine though, because while Danerys is essentially doing the same thing as Azula, waging war in a foreign land and a culture that's not hers, for the purpose of then bringing back soldiers to her home continent so she can wage war again - while she is definitely a war mongerer she has good intentions. Daenerys for all of her faults, genuinely wants to break the chains and help out people.

I think Azula definitely sees herself as the hero for winning the war for the fire nation's sake, but she's completely uncritical of her own culture and she doesn't really have the good intentions that Dany has. She does it more out of a sense of duty, and her belief of divine right, not because she wants to break people free.

Daenerys's problem is that she doesn't understand the culture she's invading and the complicated world she lives in and despite all good intentions, is as I described above, invading a foreign power so she can go back and wage a war to reclaim the throne. Even if Daenerys would then proceed to go on to be the bestest queen ever that wouldn't change the fact her methods to get to the throne were incredibly violent, and she's sort of failing to break free from the cycle that led the Targeryen rule to fail in the first place.

Azula's problem is she sees herself as the hero and is therefore uncritical of fire nation values. She doesn't have any nobler intentions either other than service to her country, she just like Zuko is just trying to fulfill her duties as daughter and believe her birthright puts her above others. (I mean Dany does too but digressing).

Azula's more of a tragic villain who plays the antagonist role in the story, Danerys is one of the three heroes. However, she's more of a tragic villain in the sense that she's first season zuko pre character development just way more competent.

However, while Daenerys is a much more heroic character than Azula, here's the thing. I still think she's going to die. She is foreshadowed pretty heavily to die, and fail for her quest for the throne, because her entire story is a deconstruction of the warrior princess and the liberator archetype.

However, the story that GRRM is building throughout his books with Dany as an incredibly flawed heroine is different from what we got in the show, which was Daenerys going crazy and starting to murder people. That's because Daenerys turn to darkness wasn't about her character at all, it was just making her into a plot device to move their bad idea for a plot forward. That's why the turn is so unnatural and makes little sense with her character, that's why it's so rushed.

That's also why it's ableist, because it's using mental illness as a plot device to make a character unsympathetic and monstrous and give the other characters a reason to put them down.

The same for Azula, outside of one scene where he's talking to her mother, Azula's mental illness manifests in her screaming, maniacally laughing, looking like the joker did her makeup, and her instability also makes her violent and dangerous to be around. (Ignoring the fact that most people who experience delusions in real life are harmless, and more likely to be the victims of violence).

Her sudden mental illness isn't even used to make her more sympathetic in say Zuko's eyes and make him realize she's a victim, no it's just there to nerf her so she can be violently put down. The way she's drawn, the way she acts, it's to paint her as monstrous as possible. Her last action is like sobbing and screaming while being drawn as ugly as possible. She's not even given a small hope for recovery, because it just ends there. That's a pretty great message to send people that experience delusions, not only will you not recover or be shown sympathy, you'll also get sent to a mental asylum for the rest of your life. The choice for both Azula and Dany is not to portray any kind of mental illness in a respectful way, but to make a plot point happen.

As I said I expect Dany to die in the books, but there's a difference between dying as a tragic hero succumbing to your flaws but still having your good intentions acknowledged and just turning into a villain for no reason and being put down like a rabid dog.

(This is a quote I stole from a Shigaraki post but): "Why does she need to be put down in the first place, she has trauma, not rabies."

The problem isn't bad thing happened to my favorite character, the problem with the ending is it doesn't take Dany's setup into consideration.

Stealing from @hamliet again:

The thing about tragedies is that you have to manage expectations and clearly show that your tragic hero is doomed from the very early on–ie you have to show them making steadily worse and worse decisions (see: Eren Jaeger in SnK), if not directly tell your audience at the very beginning that this is a tragic story (ie see Greek choruses and Shakespeare, the prequels from Star Wars because everyone knows Anakin is Vader–plus I’d argue Anakin’s arc only works because we know he comes back to the light in the end. Audiences don’t like reversing on set up/undoing structure. To make Dany a tragic villain is to go against the structure of her arc in both show and book. That’s why people don’t like it, even if the books makes it seem more believable.

Kate then goes onto describe a character that's much more comparable to Azula's. Honestly Arianne is closer to Azula than Daenerys is.

You know who is set up as a tragic heroine destined to descend and die because of her flaws in the books, whose arc has almost certainly been combined with Dany’s in some sense in the show? Arianne Martell. (and another character known as f!Aegon) In the books, Arianne is incredibly ambitious, and especially resents her brother and his quest for power. Like Margaery (another tragic character), Arianne seeks power and is intelligent and manipulative in her quest for it. But Margaery’s fatal mistake is that in seeking power and prestige, she’s become more a pawn than anything else for a villain (Cersei). She chose to play with lions, and she’ll be torn apart; that’s not surprising. Arianne, as her chapters hint, is going to almost certainly marry f!Aegon, playing with fire, and die burning for it. Arianne’s grasping for her own power is never portrayed as cruel or stupid like the main human villain (Cersei); on the contrary, we empathize with a girl who truly cares about her people, but resents her father’s preferential treatment towards her brother. That’s the difference between Arianne and Cersei: Arianne cares. She is not cruel. But her pride is still going to get her killed.

There's a lot of game of throne females you could compare Azula to because GOT is full of queens, but like. Azula may be a tragic villain firmly on the side of the antagonists but she's not Cerseie. She's not queen, she doesn't wield the power that Cersei wields. In fact one of Azula's downfalls is finding out she doesn't have as much power as she thought she had, and ultimately was just a tool of her fathers.

She's not Rhaenyra or Alicent, because yes she may be grabbing for power but her character isn't affected by misogyny. Because once again, the writers simply didn't think about misogyny except for a really surface level "girls can be just as strong as boys" way so we really have no idea how women are seen in the fire nation. The show doesn't really explore if being a woman makes things harder, or makes people treat her differently than Zuko because the writers just didn't consider Azula's perspcetive on that matter.

Azula is alike to Danaerys in several ways, but as I said I think her ultimate end comes from Azula understimating her own importance in her father's eyes, and quickly realizing when her father is her only family left she never had his love or loyalty in the first place.

But Margaery’s fatal mistake is that in seeking power and prestige, she’s become more a pawn than anything else for a villain (Cersei). She chose to play with lions, and she’ll be torn apart; that’s not surprising.

Azula's most famous quote is about how Long Feng isn't even a player, only to find out her father considered her a pawn from the beginning and be broken by the revelation.

The difference being of course that Avatar is not Game of Thrones and it won't even kill the evil fascist dictator so it doesn't make a lot of sense to hand Azula the ending that Arianne got. They have the same fatal flaw.

Anyway, I made this big post but I can explain why Azula's tragic ending down't work in one sentence.

AVATAR THE LAST AIRBENDER IS NOT A TRAGEDY.

Maybe the reason Azula should get redeemed is because THE SHOW IS ABOUT F&%CKING REDEMPTION.

#bnha meta #mha meta #atla meta #azula meta #azula #princess azula #dabi #toya todoroki #shoto todoroki #azula redemption

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x0xomady · 2 days

Text

broken cd (pt.1)

˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹

summary: you’re an assistant for a designer at prada, and you run into a mucisian on the streets of manhattan which leads to a long night of music, pizza, and fuzzy blankets. (rockstar!harry x fashiondesigner!reader)

warnings: smut in part 2! (they just makeout in part 1)

playlist to listen to while reading: 🎧

a/n: was this based on a cheesy "sex in the city" or “the devil wears prada” reference? yeah 100%. is this a corny romcom plotline? yes absolutely, don’t be a hater. this is just cliché after cliché after cliché. i honestly like the second half more, but enjoy!

˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹

‧˚⊹ October 15, 2003 ⊹˚‧

you LOATHED your job.

no, scratch that, you didn’t hate it, you just heavily disliked the work that you had to do. when breaking into the fashion industry, everyone knows you have to start from the bottom. you know that to, that doesn’t mean it’s fun.

your boss, an executive designer for prada, was currently making you run through the streets of manhattan with three bags of clothes, dry cleaning, and two cups of coffee.

of course, it was an opportunity of a life time to be able to work for someone with so much power, but still. it didn’t make it any better that it was 40 degrees and raining.

“shitshitshit” you try to run as quickly as you can in your heels to catch the cab, but some business man in a suit gets there before you. “asshole.” you mumble to yourself and groan in frustration as you try to find another taxi.

the streets are filled with rain and mist, making the cars drive slower, and taxis less available.

you huff in frustration and turn around, desperately trying to keep a grip on the drink holder and clothes. THUD

“ah!” you gasp in surprise as your body meets another, effectively knocking all of the coffee out of your hands and onto the floor. you stumble back, stepping on something on the ground.

“shit-” you hear a voice come from the person you just hit.

you look up, blinking raindrops out of your eyes. in front of you is a man, roughly your age, with a leather jacket and messy brown hair. he's looking down at the mess of spilled coffee on the sidewalk, then back up at you.

“ah fucking hell-" he mutters, noticing the cd of his that you stepped on.

there’s a pang of guilt as you look at the ruined cd. "i'm so sorry," you say, trying to keep your balance on your heels. "i wasn't looking where i was going."

you pick up the broken cd and it’s case and hold it out for the man apologetically, also grabbing the coffee cups that had dumped all over the ground.

the man looks at you for a moment, then takes the cd from you.

"thanks," he says, "but i think it's a little too late.” he holds up the broken cd, which is in two jagged pieces.

a horrible rush of guilt and also panic that you had just lost all the coffee for your boss runs through you.

“oh god- i’m SO sorry, i- here take this” you quickly pull out your wallet and hand him a twenty dollar bill.

the man looks at the bill and then back at you with a small smile as he helps you pick up the spilled coffee cups and put them in a trash can.

"uh, no it’s alright, love. i’m afraid that was a cd i made, so money won’t do much."

you look at the cd in his hand, now realizing that it’s a homemade music cd, not something you can buy at a store, and feel your guilt double.

“oh- i’m so sorry, i didn’t realize.” you say, feeling even worse now.

he shakes his head and pushes his damp hair out of his eyes.

“it’s fine, it happens,” he helps you adjust the clothes and bags in your arms so that you’re not dropping everything. “are you alright? you seem a bit frazzled.”

you nod, trying to keep your emotions in check. there was an overwhelming since of anxiety and guilt

“i’m fine, just in a hurry.” you glance down at your watch. “i need to get these things to my boss, like, right now. i’m so sorry about your cd-”

the man smiles and shakes his head again. "really, it's no problem. it was nothing important."

you feel a little relief at his nonchalant attitude, but you're still feeling guilty for ruining something of his.

"are you sure? i feel terrible. is there anything i can do to make it up to you?" you ask, shifting your weight awkwardly on your heels. you had to leave, but you didn’t want to just break this man’s cd and then run away.

the man looks at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes, the rain was picking up, leaving some drops to fall from his curls.

"i'll tell you what, you make it up to me by helping me out. i’m supposed to bring a pretty girl to my concert tonight, and i don’t have anyone yet."

you blink, surprised by his proposition.

"your… concert?" you say, your mind quickly racing back to your boss and the bags of clothes in your arms. you were a bit nervous to be around this very attractive man, so you spit out the first lame excuse that comes to mind “i, um, i have work…”

he grins, clearly enjoying the look on your face. "oh, come on, it’s not until 9. just pop by and hang out with me for a bit. it’s just a gig at webster hall, nothing too fancy."

you think for a minute. was it really a good idea to agree if you didn’t know this guy? probably not, but, how often do you meet a hot british guy in new york?

“uh… alright, sure."

his smile widens, and he looks genuinely pleased that you agreed.

"great, i’ll give you my number so i can let you in."

he pulls out a sharpie from his pocket, takes the cd case that was broken and writes his phone number on one of the broken shards before handing it to you.

you stare at the broken cd in your hand for a moment, then look back at the man.

“so… i just need to go to the venue, and call you?" you ask, checking the time again.

he nods, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. "that would do it, darling. can i have your name so i can tell them to let you in?”

you nod and smile a little bit, feeling less anxious and upset than you did five minutes ago. “yeah i’m y/n”

he grins “y/n, lovely name. i’m harry. i have to get to soundcheck, but i’ll see you later, yeah?”

he starts walking down the street but turns around and smiles. “be sure to look extra pretty tonight, gotta impress my friends!”

you nod and watch as he walks away, feeling a bit flustered at his comment. you look down at the broken cd shard in your hands, with his messy handwriting scribbled on it.

“okay then…” you mutter to yourself suddenly the realization that you were late to work and needed four new coffees hits you. “OH SHIT-”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ at the office ｡⁺˚｡⋆

after successfully running two blocks to get more coffee, running two more blocks back to get to the office, you made it. your boss wasn't angry, just neutral and stern as usual.

“thank you, y/n, phoebe should have your assignment on her desk.” your boss takes a sip of her coffee without looking up from the sheets she was looking through, waving for you to leave.

(a/n: i 1000% thought about gisele bündchen in the devil wears prada when i was writing phoebe. this is so cliché im sorry)

you nod and walk back out to your desk. your friend and co-worker, phoebe, is sitting at her desk. she immediately sits up and looks at you as you approach your desk.

“you’re late. i was beginning to get worried.” she says, putting the papers for the new design on your desk. “what happened?”

you sigh and sit down in your chair, putting your head in your hands.

“ugh, don’t even ask. i stepped on music that some hot english guy made and had to run around manhattan looking for more coffee because i destroyed the first three cups on the sidewalk.”

phoebe's eyes widen at the mention of the hot english guy.

“wait, wait, wait.” she says, leaning forward in her chair. “hold on, rewind. who is this hot guy?”

you roll your eyes a little, amused by her excitement.

"his name is harry. he said he's a musician performing at webster hall tonight. he's the guy who owned the cd i destroyed.”

you reach into your pocket and pull out the shard of the broken cd that had his name and phone number on it.

phoebe's eyes seem on the verge of popping out of her head as she grabs the shard from your hand and reads the messy handwriting.

"he gave you his phone number? and you’re going to his gig tonight? this is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen!"

you smile and take the shard back from her. "i'm not even sure why i agreed. i've got work and i don't really know anything about him or his music”

phoebe's grins and leans back her chair, looking smug. "oh, please, you know exactly why you agreed. it’s because he’s hot and british."

you roll your eyes again, but your face flushes for a moment.

"okay, fine, but there’s still a chance his music sucks, then what?" you ask, picking up the papers and starting to look through your work.

she shrugs, looking unconvinced. "i suppose. but let's be real, there's no way a good-looking guy who's british and a musician is going to suck. that's just against the rules."

you scoff a little and shake your head, although you had to admit, phoebe had a point. most british rockstars are hot...

"alright, alright. but he could be a jerk, or crazy, or-"

"or you guys could fall madly in love and get married and live happily ever after and you show your kids this cute little cd" interrupts phoebe.

you laugh and roll your eyes. "yeah, or that. in reality, i'll probably end up going home after the gig and never hear from him again."

phoebe frowns at your negativity. "oh come on, have some optimism. maybe he's 'the one' and this is your meet cute."

you smile and shakes your head at her response, going through the new designs for your boss. "yeah, we’ll see.”

phoebe grins and turns back to her computer, typing as she speaks up again. “…. you’re gonna wear that mini skirt aren’t you?"

you smile and shrug, writing down notes for the designs.

“maybe"

phoebe hums in response and continues typing for a few seconds before responding

“someone’s trying to get lock him down-”

"shut up!"

⋆｡˚⁺｡ that night ｡⁺˚｡⋆

you did, in fact, wear the mini skirt. obviously.

how often did a sexy british musician come up to a girl in new york? never! this is a once in a life time opportunity, and you needed all the leather mini skirts you could find.

it only took about one mental breakdown, four calls with your friends, and a shot to convince you to leave the apartment.

there was a HIGH chance this guy was like every other up-and-coming mucisian in new york, annoying and pretentious. however, you were getting hope that maybe he wasn't as bad, he was pretty sweet this morning afterall.

(a/n: THIS is the outfit i imagined, but it's up to you! imagine whatever you would feel most comfortable in!)

you hail a cab and give the address for webster hall, looking at yourself in the mirror for the tenth time. you made sure to do a little heavier makeup than usual, and your leather mini skirt matched with your black sleeveless top and boots.

the cab pulls up in front of the building and you pay the driver. you look up at the building, it was already crowded with people lined outside the venue. you pull the cd shard out of your pocket and dial in the number written on it, holding the phone to your ear.

it rings a couple times before he picks up.

"hello? is this the pretty girl i ordered?” he asks, teasingly.

you smile and roll your eyes, even though he can’t see it. “yeah it’s her. she's waiting outside in the cold so you better hurry up, rockstar.”

he laughs, the sound of people chatting and music playing faintly in the background.

"rockstar, huh? i like that. gimme a minute, love, i just have to let security know you're here." you hear him talking to someone as the phone hangs up.

you put the phone back in your pocket and lean against the front of the building, waiting patiently as a few drops of rain fall from the sky. after a couple minutes of waiting a security guard appears in front of you, looking you up and down.

“are you y/n?”

you nod, adjusting your jacket. “yeah.”

the guard looks you over again before nodding and gesturing for you to follow him inside, going back through a door that lead into the venue.

you walk into room, which seemed to lead to backstage. people were either standing around chatting or sitting on the couch, some of them were holding instruments. you looked around, wondering where this man disappeared to.

you turn around and look at the man with the irish accent. he had a big smile on his face and was holding a guitar so he must be part of their band.

“hello, love! what are you doing here?” you practically jump out of your skin as a blonde man pops up behind you.

“oh- hi. i’m y/n, i’m looking for harry…”

the blonde man's smile widens and he nods, throwing an arm around your shoulders and leading you into the room.

“oh, yeah, he’s over by the couch. c’mon i’ll take you to him” he says, and you allow yourself to be led across the room to a couch in the corner where a group of three men were sitting.

one of the men sitting on the couch was the one you were looking for. harry was wearing a loose faded t-shirt and jeans, and he was laughing at something one of his friends said. he notices you and his eyes widen in surprise, and his smile widens.

“there you are!” he says, standing up and walking towards you, playfully shoving the blonde guy away. “niall will you back off? i don’t need you scaring the pretty girl before i have a chance”

niall laughs and puts his hands up in the air. “just showing her around. not trying to steal your girl.” he pats harry on the back before walking back over to the other guys.

harry turns back to you and grins, looking you over. “wow” he says, raising an eyebrow. “you look fantastic”

you smile and roll your eyes a little, he looked hot as well, but you weren’t going to say that out loud. “yeah, yeah, well i had to make sure i didn’t embarrass you while i made up for breaking your cd.

harry grins, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, still looking you over approvingly.

“oh darling, i don’t think you could embarrass me even if you tried. now, the concert is about to start, but you can watch from the side stage or go sit down in the booth, whatever you want”

you nod, looking out at the growing crowd just outside the side stage. “side stage if that’s okay”

he grins excitedly and nods, grabbing your hand and leading you with him. “perfect. get a better view that way” he leads you around the side and down a narrow hallway to one side of the stage.

you followed him back, walking through the halls until you were out near the side stage. the music had already started and he turned back to you, still smiling.

“i have to go on now, but we’ll meet up after the show alright?” he asked, starting to hurry back towards the stage

you nod and smile as he runs off to go get his guitar and microphone. there were about 2,000 people in attendance, so needless to say it was cramped down below. you could see the hoards of people moving towards the stage as the lights dim and the music starts.

"who are you?"

you hear a voice behind you, and you turn around, met with a pretty brunette girl. she looks at you curiously as she walks over and stands next to you.

you look up and the girl who walked over next to you, returning the curious look.

“i’m y/n…” you say, wondering who this girl was and why she was talking to you.

“ohhh” she smiles in realization and stands next to you, looking at the crowd as well. “i’m amelia, niall’s girlfriend. harry was bragging earlier that he found a hot girl on the street and we didn’t believe him.”

you nod and smile at the mention of their disbelief. “yeah, he ran into me on the street this morning- well, actually, i ran into him, quite literally”

amelia nods and grins as she watches the guys on stage. “yeah, that sounds about right.”

she turns to look at you again, still smiling. “i heard you broke the infamous cd…”

you nod, a little embarrassed at the mention of the broken cd.

"yeah…. that happened. it didn’t happen to be important or anything… did it? harry didn’t tell me, but i felt really guilty about it.”

amelia smiles at your question and shrugs. “all the guys call it “the infamous cd” because they’re dorks. it’s just a lucky charm that harry carries around with him everywhere."

you sigh in relief and nod, a little glad you didn't actually ruin anything important. "lucky cd, huh? does it work?"

amelia laughs and shakes her head. “that’s what niall says - apparently it’s what got them their first record deal”

“really?” you ask, looking out at harry who was about to go on stage. “he didn’t tell me that. i feel even worse now…”

amelia shrugs and smiles again, looking amused. “don’t worry about it. harry’s a little dramatic, he just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

there was a certain air of excitement in the crowded room, and the buzz of people talking around you slowly started to disappear as the music got louder. you leaned against the side of the the wall, peering into the crowded room as harry and his band stepped on stage.

the concert starts, people singing and screaming along to the lyrics. each song had deep bass, guitar solos, and of course harry singing. did you feel a little bit stupid for not recognizing a guy that was apparently famous on the street? yeah.

the concert continued like that for about an hour, harry’s voice filling up the whole room. he had a certain stage presence to him, something about his charisma that drew you in and captured your attention.

"She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect And all the boys, they were saying they were into it Such a pretty face on a pretty neck”

as harry sings the lyrics to his next song, your eyes widen in realization. oh… you DID know their songs.

you watch the rest of the concert dumbfounded by the fact that you didn't realize that harry was in one the most popular bands in the modern century. you were joking before, but, he really was a rockstar.

amelia notices your look and smiles a little, leaning over. “they’re good right?”

you nod in agreement, your eyes glued to the stage. “yeah, they’re amazing… i didn’t…i didn’t think he was famous when we met…”

amelia smirked a little as she watched your eyes follow Harry around the stage. “yeah, he’s really humble. you’ll never find him flaunting it. he’s a pretty good guy”

as the concert comes to a close, the crowd starts to cheer and scream for a final song.

harry, who was now glistening with sweat and grinning like an idiot, looked straight into the side stage where you were standing and nodded for you to follow him backstage.

amelia smiles and looks at you before you walk away. “well it was nice to meet you, i’m sure i’ll see you around sometime.”

“yeah, you too” you smile back and walk away from amelia, following him behind the side stage into the messy back rooms. you could still hear the crowd of people screaming and cheering just outside of the door.

harry was standing there, panting as security guards were directing people around, still grinning and high on adrenaline from the performance.

he turns to look at you and grins again. “so, love, what did ya think?”

you smile and nod, walking over to him. “you should’ve told me you were famous, i feel like a dumbass.”

harry shakes his head and smiles, wiping his face with a towel. “nah i’m not that famous yet, maybe one day.”

he smiles and looks down at you for a second before speaking again. “did you want to go get pizza? i’m starving and i would die for a greasy slice.”

you nod and return the smile, leaning against the wall next to him. pizza sounded good after sitting under those bright lights in a crowded room for an hour.

"sure. lead the way, rockstar"

harry hums and smiles, he slips a hoodie over his head and yells something out to the other guys before turning back to you.

“alright, let’s go pretty girl.”

he nods for you to follow him, walking out of the back door of the venue and onto the lightly rainy streets of new york.

you follow him out and shiver as the cold air hits you. you weren’t sure if it was from the weather or the fact that harry called you “pretty girl”.

harry pulled the hood up on his hoodie and started walking down the sidewalk. he was still grinning like an idiot. “so…. talk to me… what do you do? i could tell by all the clothes from this morning it had something to do with fashion.”

you nod as you walk with him and shiver again. harry seems to notice and moves closer to you, your shoulders brushing as the two of you walk.

"yeah, i'm in fashion design." you say with a smile. "it's a pain in the ass, but it gives me some sort of purpose. hopefully after i finish this internship i can get an actual job for prada, at least i hope."

harry grins and nods as he looks over at you. “no kidding? i guess it fits. you’re like… really good at dressin’, and all that.”

he looks up at the sky as the rain starts to come down harder. he leads you down the street towards a pizza shop. the streets are dark other than a few people leaving clubs or taxis driving around.

you smile a little as harry compliments you, kind of embarrassed.

the two of you reach the pizza shop and harry holds the door open for you, still smiling. inside the small shop the air is warm and smells like bread and grease.

harry walks up to the counter and looks at the menu on the wall. “alright, love. what do you want?”

you look up at the menu before walking to the counter and standing next to harry."hmm… i'll just have a pepperoni slice and a coke"

the man behind the counter nods and looks up at harry, as he also orders him a few slices of pizza and a drink. harry pays for the food before walking over to a table in the corner of the small shop and sitting down, still looking cheerful.

"so prada, huh? so they've got you runnin' coffees and doin' menial work then?" he sighs as he stretches in the chair before looking at you again.

you sigh and smile a little, sitting down as well. “yeah but everyone’s gotta start somewhere.”

harry nods and smiles. “yeah, i know what ya mean. i was broke for years until someone finally picked us up.” he takes a big bite of his pizza as you also start eating.

you smile and takes a bite of your pizza. “so you’re british? are you in new york just for a show or did you move here?”

harry nods as he finishes chewing, he picks up his drink and takes a sip as he replies.

“i just moved here last year."

you look at him curiously as you take a sip of your own drink. "how do you like it? do you get homesick at all?"

harry shrugs as he swallows another bite of his pizza.

“it’s alright. new york is way bigger than where i’m from. there’s no getting homesick when i constantly talk to my mum and sister back at home, i don’t have time to miss it.”

he grins playfully and takes another bite of pizza before speaking again. “i like it here. there’s a lot to do. the pizza is good, there’s pretty girls everywhere running into me on the streets…”

you smile and shake your head, holding up the shard of cd from your pocket. amelia had told you that it held some signifigance for their band, and you didn’t want to take that away, even if it was broken.

“yeah about that, you should take this back.”

harry smiles and shakes his head, taking a bite of his second slice. he leans back against the chair, looking at you with an amused expression. “nah it’s alright, i still have the other chunk.”

you look at him hesitantly for a minute before nodding and putting the broken cd back in your pocket. “okay…”

harry swallows the pizza and watches as you finish before speaking again. “so how did you like the show?”

you look up at him and smile. in truth, you loved the show. they sounded good, harry had a great stage presence, and you recognized a few of their songs. “i really liked it, you did a good job. i recognized that one song… um… what is it called? the one about having babies?”

harry laughs and takes a drink of his soda, nodding. he runs his hand through his slightly wet curls from the rain and smiles. “ah yeah… that would be “kiwi” you like it?”

you nod, smiling at harry with your chin resting in your hand. "yeah, it was good." you take a bite of pizza, looking down at the table for a moment, then looking back up at him. "i didn’t think i would like it as much as i did. i’m not usually much of a rock girl, but i had fun."

you think for a moment, then smile sheepishly. "it's mostly pop stuff, like beyonce or christina aguilera. i told you i'm not much of a rock girl, but you sounded good."

it was embarrassing, he was a rockstar and you were casually admitting to listening to pop music, but at the same time it wasn’t. harry was very easy going, and very easy to talk to. he always had a smile and always knew what to say. it's comforting.

harry grins at you, finding it cute that you listen to pop music. "nothing wrong with that, they're both pretty damn talented, not just in their songs but their styles as well. if i could pull of low waisted jeans i would totally wear them"

you can't help but giggle a little as harry mentions low waisted jeans. you can picture him in those kind of jeans, the tattoos along his stomach showing slightly above the low waist… yeah… you wouldn’t mind that at all. (ew shut up shut up)

"well, it's mainly pop, but sometimes i listen to rap. it all depends on what mood i'm in"

harry smiles at your giggles and looks you over. he finishes the last bite of his pizza and wipes his face and hands with a napkin.

"yeah? okay… so i know you like pop music, you work in fashion, you're very sweet, we’re practically best friends now."

you smile and roll your eyes at his remark. "best friends? really? i don't know anything about you other than you’re british and you sing. cmon, tell me something."

harry’s eyes widen a little, he pretends to be offended by your statement and places his hand over his heart as he speaks. he is just so cute.

“woah woah woah, we’ve only known eachother for a couple of hours, don’t rush me love” he grins jokingly before continuing. “alright, let’s see… what do you wanna know?”

harry grins and looks at you, leaning an elbow on the table and resting his head in his hand, his other hand placed on the table.

“favorite album of all time huh? that’s an easy one. it’s probably… abbey road by the beatles. i know it’s the basic answer but i can’t help it, i grew up on the beatles. for favorite color… i guess black. i wear a lot of black, in case you hadn’t noticed…”

he grins as he says he last part jokingly.

you smile and nod, taking a sip of your drink. other than the owners, you two were the only people in the pizza shop left. even though you’ve only known him for about 10 hours, and it’s midnight, you felt oddly comfortable with him. you pretend to think for a minute before speaking again.

“okay… since we’re basically playing 20 questions now… do you collect anything?”

harry smiles and leans back in his chair, stretching, looking up, and thinking. “hmmm..”

he grins and looks at you. “yeah i do actually, i’ve collected vinyl ever since i was a teenager. it’s kind of my thing. i have a whole room full of them back at my house and i’m still collecting them.”

you raise your eyebrows, slightly surprised, and smile again. “really? that’s cool. i didn’t think anyone collected vinyls anymore, besides hipsters who listen to the doors.”

harry grins and shakes his head. “it’s the best way to listen to music, it’s got an authentic tone. you can tell a record comes a lot more from the heart than a song on the radio. you should come over sometime. i’ve got a lot of really old, rare ones i can show you”

you smile a little and look down at the table. you had only met him a couple of hours ago and he was already inviting you over to his house, to see his vinyl collection. it wasn’t weird though, he was a very friendly person and you didn’t think he was asking you over for any other reason than to show you his collection.

“yeah… i can come over to see your vinyl collection sometime, that would be cool”

harry grins at you and nods. “great”

he glances up at a clock on the wall, noticing the time. “damn, you don’t have work tomorrow do you?”

you look over at the clock on the wall. 4 am. damn. “yeah i do actually. i’m supposed to be there at 8am”

you would get around two hours of sleep if you went home right now, not enough to function as a normal human the next day, but that’s prada for you.

harry looks at you suprised. “damn, 8am? they make you come in at 8am? i thought you fashion girls didn’t wake up until noon.” he jokes

“yeah maybe if i was a model, but i’m not,” you roll your eyes at his remark but you can’t hide a smile. “they don’t care that the only thing keeping you going at 8am is coffee and cigarettes.”

harry laughs and looks at you. “coffee and cigarettes… you have the same diet as me.”

you smile at his remark, leaning on the table with your head in your hand, mirroring his position. “coffee, cigarettes, and ramen noodles… the breakfast of champions.”

harry smiles and nods. “it’s a healthy lifestyle for sure”

he checks the time again, noting how late it is before speaking again. “so… tell me, on a scale of 1-10 how reckless are you?”

you look at him and smile. “uh… i don’t know. it really depends. i’d say i’m kind of reckless. if this is your way of asking me if i’ll ditch work and come over to your house i don’t think so, even for a cute british rockstar.”

harry laughs and leans a little closer to you. “aw that’s a shame, i was hoping you’d ditch work to listen to my music and see my collection”

he smiles at you and speaks again, getting a devious look in his eye. “cmon… just stop by?”

you roll your eyes playfully at his remark. “cmon rock star, you’ve only known me for a few hours, don’t go being too hopeful now”

despite your reply, you were actually very much considering going over to his house to see his collection. he was hot, nice, and you were tired as hell.

harry grins at your response and leans closer to you, looking into your eyes. “cmon… i promise i won’t keep you long, i just want to show you my vinyls”

his eyes darted toward the clock and then back to you. “please? one hour, tops.”

you look into his big green eyes, you were already tempted. then you look down at the clock. 3:53am.

“ugh…” then back up at him. “an hour, tops?”

harry grins, already sensing that he had convinced you, and nods. “one hour, pinkie promise.”

he smiles and intertwines your pinkies which makes you smile. you were either going to go home and get 2 hours of very little sleep… or you could go with the attractive British rockstar and at least have fun for a little while. who needed sleep anyways?

you look down at your pinkies, smiling as he intertwines them together. you couldn’t believe you were about to do this with a guy you had only met this morning. but yet, here you were.

“okay fine… one hour, that’s it”

harry grins widely and laughs a little, knowing he had won and you were coming with him. he lets go of your pinkie and looks at your expression, watching you think to yourself, probably thinking about if this was a good idea.

“perfect, cmon” he stands up and tosses your trash away, thanking the restaurant owner, before helping you up and walking out the door. there is still some rain, and the air is damp, making it misty.

you walk outside with harry into the cool, misty air. the city was oddly quiet for it being new york, but it was 3:55am so it wasn’t surprising.

you weren’t sure how you felt about this. you’d just met this guy and here you were ditching sleep to go to his house and see his vinyl collection, it definitely seemed crazy. but at the same time… he was cute, and nice and you really did want to see his collection.

harry is smiling at you, seeming to read your facial expressions and your body language, like he was trying to guess what you were thinking. he could see that you were excited yet at the same time nervous about this whole thing.

he looks at you and smiles. “come on, my apartment is just down the block”

he motions for you to follow him and starts walking, sticking with his usual fast pace for his long legs.

you nod and start walking next to him. the rain wasn’t heavy, but it was a slight drizzle and got you slightly wet as you walked.

it was weird. this whole thing was weird. you had only known harry for a few hours and already you were going back to his place to look at his vinyl collection, when in reality you should’ve been at home asleep, preparing for work tomorrow. but you weren’t, you were following a rockstar through the rain.

you smile and look over at him as you walk down the street. “be honest with me… how often do you do this with girls?”

harry glances over at you and smiles, noticing the quizzical look on your face. he grins a little as he responds. “you’re joking, right? i do this with girls all the time. i take them home to my apartment to see my vinyl collection after they go to my concerts.”

he grins jokingly and glances over at you, seeing you roll your eyes. “alright, alright… not that often. i’m assuming you’re asking me about my hookup habits, and honestly, i don’t take people to my house if i’m going to hook up with them. i just do it in the bathroom or wherever we are.”

you raise your eyebrows, and smile. “oh wow, so tell me, are groupies real? do you really have girls following your band around, or is that an 80s myth?”

you were honestly slightly suprised he didn’t take people home to his house. in the short amount of time you’ve known each other, that doesn’t seem like something he would do.

harry laughs a little and shakes his head as he walks, still having to slow down a bit so you can keep up with his long legs.

“that’s like… one part myth and one part real. yeah of course girls like us, but we don’t just have them following us around everywhere, that's a bit extreme”

he smiles and runs his hand through his wet curls as you walk down the street together. “i’ve had girls follow me home a few times after shows and stuff, but they aren’t really what they’re cracked up to be in the movies”

“oh really?”

“mhm you’re much prettier.”

“yeah sure…”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ 30 minutes later ｡⁺˚｡⋆

you and harry are laying on the floor of his music room, listening to a pink floyd album he put on. the needle scratched back and forth on the vinyl, the music filling the room as the two of you lay on the floor. harry had a fuzzy carpet on the floor that was fun to run your fingers through as you lay there listening.

the two of you are, both of you laying on your backs, staring up at his ceiling and listening to the music. you had expected him to be more hyper and excited, but he was actually very calm and… sweet?

harry was laying with his hands behind his head, his hair fanned out around his head as he stared at the ceiling. a small smile was on his lips as he listened to the music, he seemed to be genuinely enjoying this.

he glances over at you, seeing you looking at the ceiling, smiling lightly as the music plays. “what do you think of this album? it’s one of my favorites”

you look over at him and look into his green eyes. god he was attractive.

you listen to the music for a moment before replying. “it’s good… like i said… i’m a pop girl, but this album is…. pretty? if that makes sense, the sounds are pretty.”

he laughs a little, finding it cute that you called the music pretty. he looks back up at the ceiling, his smile getting wider as he responded. “yeah, pink floyd’s music is pretty…”

he glances over at you again, speaking teasingly. “you’re kind of pretty too.”

your cheeks turn pink and you can feel your heart rate slightly increase when he said you were pretty. why were you getting flustered? you had barely known this guy for 12 hours and already he was calling you pretty.

you roll over onto your side, laying on your stomach, looking at him, still blushing a little. “kind of?”

harry smirks at you as you turn over on your stomach to look at him, your hair hanging down.

he rolls over on his stomach, mimicking your position to look at you, his smirk still on his face as he replies. his head propped up on his hand so he can be face-to-face with you. “yeah very pretty”

you feel your cheeks get pinker as he compliments you, but you try to remain casual and not get flustered. it was hard though, he was laying facing you right now, and the look in his eyes as he looked at you made it hard to focus.

you shake your head as he says you’re pretty, jokingly rolling your eyes at him. “yeah, yeah you’re pretty too.”

harry gasps dramatically and looks at you with a grin. “oh i’m flattered, darling.”

you smile and nod, looking into his pretty green eyes. “yeah you should be.”

he grins again with the smile that makes his eyes crinkle. please kill me he’s adorable- the album stops as the record meets the end, and harry stands up. he walks over to the record stand and changes the record out. “are you flirting with me?”

you sit up, still sitting on the floor of the music room, watching him change the record, then processing what he just said. you smile and shrug, bringing your knees to your chest as you sit on his shaggy carpet. this room was so comfortable, like the rest of his apartment. he had little trinkets everywhere, pillows and bankets in every corner, and warm lighting from his string lights filled each dark area.

“oh… so you invite me to your concert, take me to get pizza, invite me to your house, and I’M the one that’s flirting?”

harry laughs a little, turning back around after placing a Jeff Buckley record on the machine. he walks back over to the carpet and sits down right next to you. he looks at you with his bright green eyes, smiling as he speaks. “mmm, you have a point”

he reaches behind him and grabs multiple pillows and blankets. “alright settle in, love, this is the prettiest album yet.”

you smile as he grabs pillows and blankets from behind him and starts handing them to you. so he was going to get comfortable too.

you take the pillows and blankets from him and start situating them on the ground next to harry so you can lay down. “alright, if this album isn’t pretty, this is the first and last time we’re hanging out.”

harry laughs and smiles again, loving the way you banter with him. he grabs his own blankets and pillows and gets comfortable next to you on the floor.

he smiles and lays down, getting comfortable under his blankets. “trust me, jeff buckley’s album is absolutely beautiful. it’s gonna break you, make you cry, throw up, all that good stuff.”

you smile as he jokingly describes the album, trying to imagine what about it would cause you to throw up. you lay down in your own little nest of blankets and pillows, getting comfy in the dimly lit room, the only light coming from string lights hanging across the ceiling and the moon shining in from the window.

you look over at a comfy looking harry who’s smiling at you, seemingly more relaxed and sleepy laid out on the floor.

it only takes three minutes for the two of you to completely pass out on the floor of his music room.

⋆｡˚⁺｡ 8 hours later ｡⁺˚｡⋆

you slowly wake up, confused for a moment and wondering where you were. but then you remember that you had fallen asleep in harry’s music room, and now the morning sun was shining through the window, illuminating the room and waking you up.

when you open your eyes, you see harry still sound asleep next to you, curled up under his many blankets and pillows, looking adorable as he breathed softly. it also reminds you that you’re a complete idiot for letting yourself fall asleep to a complete stranger.

you lay there for a moment, admiring the way harry peacefully slept next to you. he looked like an actual rock star, his hair fanned out on the pillows, his tattoos peaking out through through the sleeves and collar of his shirt. you were still baffled at the fact that less than 24 hours ago you didn’t even know he existed, and now here you were.

you look over at him again, studying his sleeping face.

the room is still and quiet as you look at his calm sleeping face, your eyes roaming over his long lashes, his sharp jawline, his plump lips. what is wrong with you. you’re laying there watching a sleeping man, a man you had only known for a day.

you look away from him, trying to remind yourself that this is just a man you met on the street and not a dreamy love interest in a romantic movie. you sigh in frustration as you remember that you had slept through work. hopefully phoebe would cover for you….

you sit, up rolling your shoulders, they were sore from laying on the floor all night. you grab your phone from your pocket to check the time. great. you had slept through work, it was already 10AM. you also had several missed texts from phoebe and your boss wondering where the hell you were. this is gonna be hard to explain.

whatever. that’s for another time when you’re more awake and less infatuated with a British man you hardly know.

you rub your face sleepily, yawning softly as harry starts to wakeup.

harry starts to shift around beside you, making noise and groaning softly as he starts waking up. he sits up slowly, looking around the room, taking in his surroundings. he runs a hand through his messy hair, then glances over at you.

“morning, pretty girl” he says in a groggy morning voice, grinning at you as he stretches his arms over his head.

your heart does a little jump as you hear his morning voice, which you’re starting to decide is a million times sexier than his normal voice.

”morning, pretty boy” you respond, stretching your own arms over your head and letting out a yawn.

you look down and notice you’re still wearing the uncomfortable mini skirt and tanktop from last night. “do you have something i can change into? i do NOT want to do the walk of shame back to my apartment in this.”

harry smiles as he sees you sit up and stretch, he also notices you’re still wearing the clothes from last night… and that the tiny skirt and tiny tank are a sight to see first thing in the morning.

he shakes his head, trying to bring himself back to earth, and responds. “yeah ‘course. i’m sure i’ve got some clothes that will fit you” he glances down at your clothes again before standing up.

“although i’m not sure it can be considered the walk of shame if we didn’t do anything shameful, yet.” he smirks and walks out of the music room and down the hall towards his bedroom.

you roll your eyes, but smile a little at his last comment, knowing it was true. sure, you’d slept in the same room, but you hadn’t done anything shameful… yet. hopefully you wouldn’t end up doing anything shameful, this guy was turning your brain into mush.

you crawl out of your pile of blankets and pillows, then get up and follow him out the room and down the hall to his bedroom.

you both walk into his bedroom, which has a similar look to his music room. it’s not a huge bedroom, it has a queen sized bed, a large dresser, and a door that leads to the bathroom.

he goes over to the dresser and starts rifling through the drawers, looking for something you can change into. he looks over his shoulder and looks at your outfit again. “can’t lie, i like the outfit, but you’re probably not very comfortable in it.”

he smiles and tosses you light washed jeans and a band tee. “you’re a fashion girl, i’m sure you can make anything look good.”

you caught the pants and tshirt he threw at you, holding them up to look at them. he was right, you might be able to make this look good, these jeans were cute and the band tee looked vintage.

you smile. “i’ll attempt to look good in your clothes.” you glance toward the bathroom. “do you mind if i change in there?”

he nods. “yeah, ‘course love. bathroom’s right in there” he motions to a door across the room.

after about 30 minutes of getting ready, arguing with harry about needing to go to work, and eventually caving because… well beacause he’s hot…. you and harry were walking down the street towards a coffee shop.

⋆｡˚⁺｡ 30 minutes earlier ｡⁺˚｡⋆

“no harry! i had fun, but i need to go to work and apologize for sleeping in.” you shake your head as you stand in the bathroom, washing your face of the makeup from the night before.

“uh no you don’t”

you roll your eyes and look back at the mucisian. “uh yes i do.”

“why? you’re already six hours late, might as well just tell them you’re sick.” he smiles like a teenager, standing behind you in the bathroom as you got ready. it’s weird, being this comfortable around someone after you’ve only known them for 24 hours.

“yeah but-”

“no buts”

“yes buts! i have responsibilities.”

“i’ll buy you donuts and we can hang out more! that sounds like way more fun whatever fashion bs they would have you doing.”

“…”

“fine.”

“… :)”

“stop smiling, dumbass.”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ present ｡⁺˚｡⋆

harry is walking down the sidewalk next to you, taking a bite of his donut and sipping his black coffee, watching you as you both walk. you look cute in the clothes he gave you, cute and relaxed. he loves the way the jeans are cuffed at the bottom and the faded band tee fits you perfectly.

he glances at you, smiling as he speaks. “see? ditching work was so much better. you can have more fun with me, instead of working in a boring old office”

you roll your eyes as he smiles and speaks. “yeah, because hanging out with the random man i met yesterday is so much more fun than the job that pays my rent and feeds me”

you try to hide the smile that creeps up on your face, you have no idea why you’re falling so effortlessly into this banter with him, but it just felt natural.

harry grins as you respond, loving the way you banter with him. he can’t stop smiling whenever he sees that pretty smile appear on your face.

he nods jokingly as you mention the job that feeds you and pays your rent. “yeah exactly! who cares if you don’t get paid this month, im sure being unemployed is a completely valid excuse for missing work!”

he takes another sip of his coffee, looking at you. “i mean we’re basically having a date, which is way more entertaining than whatever you were doing at work”

you roll your eyes again, smiling as he teases you about having a “date”. it isn’t a date, its just the two of you hanging out, like friends. yeah…

“sure, this is a date” you sarcastically respond, taking a bite of your donut. “a date consisting of two people ditching work and eating breakfast food. don’t you have a concert later? you should be practicing.”

he grins a little as you sarcastically agree that this is a “date”, that means you’ve acknowledged it. “yeah, i should be, but i’d rather hang out with you.”

harry stops and grabs a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it and taking a long drag. “besides, i can practice later. today is our day. i’m marking it in my calender, october 16th, 2003, the day we became best friends.”

you try to suppress your smile as you hear him say “our day”. he’s way too charming for his own good, you think to yourself.

you watch as he lights his cigarette and puffs on it, the smoke billowing from his pouty lips. a little part of you hates how you think he looks hot as he stands there smoking, but you try to ignore it.

you roll your eyes a little, trying to pretend this isn’t affecting you. “yeah, us ditching work and eating donuts is sure the start of a great friendship”

he smiles again as he sees you roll your eyes. cute. he thinks to himself as he watches you eat your donut in small bites.

he lets out a puff of smoke as he brings the cigarette to his lips again, looking at you. “you say that like ditching work and hanging out isn’t the best bonding activity for the start of a friendship.”

he grins as he starts walking again, glancing over at you. “we’ve had a jam session, we’ve shared sleeping quarters, and now a proper meal. what more could we possibly bond over?”

you shake your head and smile a little as he responds.

“well you’re wrong,” you say. “i’ll do anything for donuts.”

you take another bite of the donut and glance over at him as he walks next to you, watching his curls bounce as he moves. it really was a good day, you would never say it out loud, but a ditch day with him was the most therapeutic thing you’d done in months,

the two of you walk through central park for a few more minutes before reaching a bench. you sit down and sip your coffee quietly, warming up a little bit.

he laughs and shakes his head as you mention you would do anything for a donut. “yeah yeah, admit that i’m right.”

he follows you over and sits on the bench, letting out a tiny cough as he flicks his cigarette into the trash. he glances over at you as you drink your coffee, you look cute sitting there sipping coffee in his clothes.

he plops down on the bench next to you as he leans back, letting his body rest comfortably. “you know, you’re very relaxing, it’s nice.”

you glance over at him as you sit down, raising your eyebrows. “i’m relaxing?”

you look at him incredulously. “i’m pretty sure you’re the one with the relaxing british accent”

he grins a little as you say he’s the one who’s relaxing. he smirks a little. “just because i’ve got an english accent doesn’t mean im relaxing. i could be annoying, ya know”

you laugh and roll your eyes. “oh please, everyone likes an english accent. they’re soothing” you say this with a small smile, knowing damn well you love his accent.

he smiles and looks over at you through his sunglasses, he just felt so comfortable at the moment. “well i’m glad you like my accent.”

you roll your eyes and laugh a little at his comment. his accent was nice. no, it was more than that; it was sexy, especially when he sang or spoke softly.

he looks relaxed as he sits there on the bench next to you. you watch as he closes his eyes behind his glasses, taking in the cool breeze.

you sit back against the bench, watching people walk around the park, kids playing, dogs running, adults working out. it was all very peaceful.

“thanks for not being creepy last night or anything…”

he opens his eyes and glances over at you as you lean back against the bench as well. “course love. i wasn’t gonna try anything, you just looked like you needed a good sleep. but of course, i’m happy to do anything when you’re awake.”

he smiles teasingly and leans back against the bench with his eyes closed.

the next hour is spent with the two of you walking around the park mindlessly, talking about random things. harry told you about england, you told him about your job and your friends. he told you about his bandmates, you told him about your cat. it was the most relaxing day you could remember having for a long time.

“but yeah my cat is the most an-”

suddenly harry stops walking and looks at you. without any warning or hesitation, he gently grabs your face and pulls you towards him, planting a kiss against your lips.

your eyes widen in surprise as he kisses you. you’re in shock, freezing up for a second as you feel his lips against yours.

the kiss is gentle, but there’s a firmness from harry’s part that makes it feel like he’s been wanting to do this for hours. he brushes his fingers through your hair as he kisses you, bringing you closer to him as he does.

you’re still shocked, but you instinctively begin to kiss him back. the feeling of his fingers brushing through your hair, the feeling of his lips moving against yours, all of it makes you lose your senses. you bring your hands up and grip onto his arms, holding on tightly as you kiss him back.

“this is stupid and you can laugh at me, but i think i’m more comfortable with you after a day together, then some people i’ve known my entire life.”

you feel your stomach flutter with butterflies as you look up at him.

“yeah i,” you start before hesitating, “i feel the same way.” that’s an understatement

he smiles gently as you say you feel the same way, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. he scoops you up, pulling you so you’re legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s holding his arms under your bottom to support you.

“yeah?”

you wrap your arms around his neck as he holds you up, looking at him. “yeah, it’s,” stupid, crazy, insane, “cool.”

harry grins and kisses you again before he starts walking down the street, running a bit to make you laugh, until he finds an empty ally. he pushes you against the wall with your legs wrapped around his as he presses his lips to yours.

as he presses his lips to yours, the world around you melts away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in this moment. the cool brick wall behind you is a gentle pressure against your back, a reminder of the physical world that's still spinning, even as your senses are consumed by harry's kiss. his tongue brushes against yours, and you feel your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him closer.

the sound of the city fades into the background, replaced by the gentle hum of harry's contented sigh as he deepens the kiss. his fingers dig gently into the flesh of your bottom, holding you up, supporting you as you wrap yourself around him.

as harry's lips move against yours, he mutters "so. fucking. pretty." in between kisses, desperate to get closer to you. his body presses against yours, the heat of his chest radiating through your clothes.

his hands roam over your body, gripping your waist, running up your back, and threading through your hair. the feeling of his fingers in your hair feels amazing, and you can't help but moan softly into the kiss.

harry pulls away and looks down at you with a flushed expression.

“back to my place?”

“yes. now.”

˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹

oops that was really long, i got caught up. this isn’t really proofread so sorry if there were mistakes. this is literally my favorite story i’ve ever written, so i hope you guys liked it too! (requests are open)

-💋

#x0xomady #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #one direction #harry styles fluff #dom harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #1d #1d smut #one direction smut #one direction imagine

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homunculus-argument · 5 months

Note

Probably dumb question from a trans guy who's struggling with actually physically and socially transitioning. I am a short, skinny, and relatively quiet human, and while I undoubtedly feel myself to be male internally and want my body to reflect that, I feel like nobody would ever take me seriously or find me attractive if I transitioned, or that I don't have what it takes to pass as a man in general due to people relentlessly perceiving me as feminine and female even when I do everything in my power to present otherwise.

I guess I'm just wondering if transitioning is even worth it for me? I'm almost 30, so I've lived as I am a long time, and as much as it makes me miserable and cuts me off from a lot of joy and vitality in life, it's all I know. I *think* I would feel better, have more confidence etc. if people perceived me as who I really feel myself to be, but the thought that there's a lot of people out there who would never accept that, and would rub it in my face that they still see me as something I loathe being seen as, makes me feel pretty hopeless about the whole situation.

No need to answer this if it's too personal a topic or anything, just wanted to run it past you since I admire you quite a bit, and you seem to have a lot of stuff figured out that I'm still working towards.

🐉

You sound pretty confident about it being something you can't be happy without, and honestly, testosterone is a hell of a drug, so even if you won't be astonishingly hot as a guy, you'll still read 100% as male in a couple of years. Look at the before-after pictures and progress timelines of trans men, especially HRT timelines, even the ones who don't end up looking like Kratos from God of War just turn out into completely normal-looking regular guys. There are plenty of short, skinny, and quiet cis men too, and they aren't so rare that normal people meeting you for the first time would start suspecting you to be one of those 1% minority people they've heard about.

I've also had friends who know I'm trans genuinely just forget about it. This one time a friend whom I have known since we were 15 - ten years before I started testosterone - get confused when I mentioned that my gym teacher at the time always wore electric blue mascara. She asked me which teacher was that, and only when I clarified that I was talking about the female gym teacher at my school, did she remember that I was in girls' gym classes. The thought that my school had the most flamboyant drag queen makeup wearing boys' gym teacher felt like a more plausible option than remembering that I was legally classified as a girl in school back when we met.

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heaven-s-black-box · 9 days

Text

Notes- Shy S/O Scaramouche & more

Return to File

Recovery date: September 18th, 2024

Description: hii so i was wondering if you could write about genshin characters with a s/o who's rlly shy and just hides behind them when someone talks to them? For the characters i'm think scaramouche, lyney, zhongli, xiao and any others you want! Feel free to delete if u dont wanna write it, and thanks!!

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions.

Back to directory

Scaramouche

As Scaramouche? He scoffs

The chances of you being around his height or taller are high

So he thinks it’s stupid

But he loves you, though he’s loath to admit it, so he’ll stand a little taller and glare at the person

You don’t want him to glare? Then stop using him as a shield

As Wanderer? Rolls his eyes

Which is an improvement

Also tries to work on your confidence because what if there’s no one to hide behind

You can hold his arm if you want, no he won’t repeat himself

In both cases, if anyone makes fun of you for it he will resort to violence

He’s actually very proud you feel so safe with him

Lyney

He’s used to Freminet, so he’s quick to adapt

Though he has to admit, you hiding behind him makes him proud

Sure, the kids hide behind him all the time; even Freminet does it sometimes

But this is different

At first he thinks the person talking is a threat, so he squares up and puts an arm arm you

Then he realizes you aren’t really afraid of this person, just shy

It remind him of when you first met, how you kept hiding behind your tea cup

That’s when it clicks, it’s never been a coincidence you’re always holding something to hide behind

Works with Freminet to help you find something like his helmet

Also tries to pull you out of your comfort zone by putting on magic shows for the house of the earth kids

Zhongli

You have no problem hiding behind him

He’s also very understanding

Introduces you to Ganyu, she’s soft spoken and you almost remind him of her

Dragon instinct are purring

You see him as a protector, if he were his younger self he’d be preening

I mean, he is, but it would be more obvious

Offers you his coat for when he isn’t around

You can hide in it, or maybe the feeling of it will help

Definitely tries to help you out of your shell

Xiao

Actually thinks you’re in danger

You called his name 100% by accident, startling the person who asked for directions

That just made you bury your head into his shoulder

Which flustered him, so he teleported you both away

He wishes he could be there for you, but his karma means he can’t be in the city often

So he introduces you to Ganyu, because she’s pretty unsure of herself at times

Xiao totally gets insecurities, he just bottles his up

But Ganyu faces hers so surely she can help, it’s a very awkward first meeting

Anyways, if you two are out together (on the rare occasion) will gladly let you hide behind him

Unfortunately he has a bit of a resting bitch face, so anyone who tries to talk to you gets really uncomfortable

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howmanyholesinswisscheese · 4 months

Text

Sherlock & Co Headcanons

This list got SO LONG, SO QUICKLY, but here y'all are. Nobody asked, but I sure as hell will deliver.

Sherlock comes into John's room at night sometimes when he can't sleep. John lets him snuggle up in bed and wraps his arms around him like a koala, and - as long as John's breathing is acceptable - Sherlock falls swiftly asleep to the rise and fall of his chest. After a few times, Sherlock observes a notable decrease in John's nightmares and starts joining him in bed more often, even when he's not tired.

Mariana is one of those rare people who Microsoft Excel gets along with. She has magic powers for sure.

YOU GET A QPR, YOU GET A QPR, EVERYBODY GETS A QPR

On the topic of google docs in the latest episode, Sherlock's gmail is a random string of numbers like a default wifi password because "[email protected]" was taken and that was obviously the next possible option. Mariana's job is infinitely harder because of this.

They have movie nights.

John tried once to get the others into football. Neither of them saw the appeal of it but they watched a game with him anyway out of some strange obligation and a hefty amount of coercion. Also there was popcorn. The joy John radiated when Swindon Town scored a goal was absolutely worth it all.

Carol Watson ships it.

CANE USER JOHN CANE USER JOHN CANE USER JOHN

John hates using his cane, like genuinely loathes it. He's convinced he'll get looks for it or seem like he's faking. And what would Mariana and Sherlock think about him as a colleague?? One morning, though, after a particularly physically taxing case, he woke to an awful flare up. When he reluctantly swiped the cane from the corner where it had been gathering dust so far and made his way into the kitchen for breakfast, Mariana and Sherlock didn't even bat an eye - Mariana did ask if he'd like to sit down while she made him toast, which he gratefully accepted. Archie did try to gnaw on it, though. He uses the cane a bit more often, now.

John and Mariana learned BSL for Sherlock's bad days. They have intricate and heated discussions from across the room entirely in sign language when others are around and nobody can understand them. It's hilarious to watch - well, hilarious from their perspective, at least.

They fall asleep on the couch an inordinate number of times.

One time, Sherlock made John and Mariana breakfast. The two of them spent a very long time trying to figure out whether he was high, delusional, or both.

Clients are generally confused by the whole trio's relationship dynamic. Slay. That's exactly what they're going for.

Honestly I'm 100% vibing with the poly hcs going around. Consider: poly qpr???

Short king John. You agree. Reblog.

Mariana consistently steps out of the flat looking drop down gorgeous because she's awesome like that, whereas Sherlock looks like he's just been dragged out of bed (he probably has been) and John exclaims in pleasant amusement whenever he finds bits of his breakfast in his stubble. They make the perfect trio.

Sherlock is tall enough to rest his chin on top of John's head. He does it like some sort of clingy cat whenever he's tired and John's back is turned. It's adorable. He's recently been experimenting with slinking his arms around John's waist as he does so, yielding gentle chuckles that he feels rather than hears. The results have been a smashing success.

Mariana was school captain.

John drinks juice straight from the carton like a heathen (which is fine because Sherlock hates the stuff - the pulp gets stuck in his teeth - and Mariana has her own food downstairs).

Sherlock really does play the violin at horrific hours. The neighbors hate him, but it actually puts John to sleep when he's not playing the violent, jerky melodies of a tricky case.

Sherlock and Victor Trevor. I'm surprised this isn't already canon. They happened. Whatever "happened" means is irrelevant - they happened.

Sherlock really likes rainbow sour straps.

MORE TO COME PROBABLY

#i love them all too much to contain this #sherlock and co #sherlock & co #headcanons #jonk watson #sherlock holmes #john watson #podlock #mariana ametxazurra #johnlock #arter speaks

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dekariosclan · 3 months

Note

As a fellow galemancer i had to share that when your doing the spell scene with gale, when the narrator says the weave is making your one, i couldnt help but notice that he slowly blinks at you like a cat, since tara is technically part cat im sure they blink slow for affection so im not sure but Gale as a cat person slow blinking at you feels so cute, just some food for thought adore you blog as well have a great day

OP, you are absolutely brilliant. However, it seems somehow tumblr autocorrected ‘tressym’ to ‘cat’ in your ask, because as Gale and Tara would both insist, she is definitely NOT a cat, absolutely not, not even a smidge, she’s proudly 100% tressym and we would never want to insult her or get on her bad side by insinuating otherwise! Obviously that was a mistake on tumblrs end! nothing more!!

(…okay OP I think we are in the clear, that should smooth things over with Tara, just wanted to cover all our bases there 😂)

You raise a really interesting point—Gale, having been partially raised by a tressym, could absolutely have picked up a few tressym qualities and mannerisms! So let’s talk about that:

slightly 18+ / suggestive under the cut!

First off, to your point, Gale does the tressym slow blink to show affection. As if Gale’s soft cow eyes weren’t appealing enough, those slow, soft, affectionate blinks?? How could you resist:

Gale loves to touch you, hold your hand, have his hands on you, and of course massage you…except that his massages, while lovely, seem to be less ‘ease your muscle stress by applying firm pressure’ and more ‘making biscuits on your back.’ When you ask where he learned his technique, he says he’s self-taught and proudly adds ‘Tara approves of my form.’ (Doesn’t matter, you love it regardless.)

Gale longingly mentions his tower’s ‘crackling hearth’ several times throughout the game, and just like Tara, it’s one of his favorite places to be—ESPECIALLY if he’s curled up next to it with you. Now, whether you’re on his lap or he’s on yours? That’s entirely up to you. Though Tara might object if her favorite spot—Gale’s lap—is too frequently occupied >:(

Gale occasionally adds in a soft, loving head bump during a makeout session—gently, of course! (This one is canon IMHO as he does this during his ‘Grateful’ kiss variant seen here)

Speaking of making out, when Gale’s engine really gets revved he’ll move from those yearning moans to a low, steady rumble of desire from deep in his chest. A purr of arousal if you will—but one that can turn into a growl as he hungrily claws at your clothes, if your laces/buttons are not cooperating with his need for immediate removal.

It’s canon that Gale hates vegetables, full stop. After all, what self-respecting tressym craves broccoli? He’d much prefer to share a meal of quipperfish, pigeon, or beholder meat with Tara. A proper carnivorous meal, and preferably one that comes with some sort of cream-based delicacy for dessert. Also…are those peas on his plate? Carrots?! Instantly incinerated.

And finally, Tressyms are fastidious about their cleanliness—Tara herself can be seen diligently cleaning her paws during the epilogue—so of course Gale follows suit. He’s very vocal about being disgusted by the bloodbath you can get while in the mindflayer colony in Act 2, and he loathes being in the sewers of Baldur’s Gate. Gale prefers to be clean and preened at all times, not only for his own sense of pride, but also so he can be as presentable as possible for you. (As he himself put it, ‘A gentleman is only as handsome as his least-groomed locus.’). Now when it comes to your cleanliness, though, Gale would never criticize you for your, ah…sweaty, glistening muscles after a fight, OR your particular musk arising from said sweatiness and dirt. In fact he rather likes it, because the only thing better than being clean is the process of getting clean, which he will happily help you with! Perhaps a long, hot, luxurious bath, your naked bodies intertwined as he runs his hands and mouth a bar of soap over every inch of you. Or, perhaps, if bathwater is not available, he could go full tressym and simply lick you clean himself clean you up in a different manner! Who knows?? The possibilities are endless, and he does have a practiced tongue. 😉

— — —

Thank you again for this lovely ask OP! I hope I painted an accurate picture of just how similar our beloved Gale is to a cat TRESSYM !!

As always if anyone has any additional points, please feel free to add them! 🐈🪽💜

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #gale x tav #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #galemancer #gale x reader #answered ask #tara the tressym

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yandere-wishes · 11 months

Text

Hot Take

But has anyone ever stopped to think about the Damsel in Distress? Has anyone ever considered the feelings of the princess locked away in a tower? We all like to make fun of the Damsel in Distress trope but has anyone in the last 100 years stopped to think about how she feels? How worthless she thinks she is because she can't get herself out of that dreaded tower. She can't save herself, she's powerless, and as much as we like to mock her for that. We overlook how this powerlessness becomes such an overwhelming sensation inside of her. So many "if onlys…" swirling around in her head. If only she was as strong as the dragon that captured her. If only she was as cunning as the prince that promised to save her. If only she had a fraction of the combat abilities of the knights. If only, if only.

Not to mention how lonely she must feel and how nerve-wracking it is waking up every day wondering if everyone you ever knew-ever loved- has forgotten you. she's been told to wait for a prince or a knight or some dashing stranger. A harbinger of true love…but what if they never come? What if they have more important things to do than rescue her? The long hours spent in a quiet room with a monotonous view. Withering around in self-loathing on the brink of another panic attack. It's enough to drive anyone crazy.

There's also the part of NOT being able to save herself. She's not cunning enough, not brave enough, not strong enough. And maybe she is, maybe she's all those things but her self-doubt and pity have trapped her in a constant web of "can't".

She can't save herself

She isn't worth being rescued

She's nothing

Destined to rot away in the tower.

And then when/if she is rescued it's borderline impossible to readjust to society. All those years of being utterly alone make it painfully difficult to be around people. She can't read social cues or even understand what half the people are talking about. She misses the tower, the isolation, and the quiet. Yet never wants to return to it. You can forget about her making friends, everyone seems to avoid her, deeming her less because she was captured in the first place. Whispering behind her back about how 'they' would have saved themselves. Or how their heroes would have come to save them so much faster than hers did. Even the king and queen are rigid around her. Not knowing how to act or what to say, but growing increasingly more vexed at her ineptitude to "be normal" again. Our poor princess is convinced she'll always be alone, fated to a life of misery.

Oh, and let's not forget the nightmares. The terrors of the tower crept out of her subconscious each night. Tormenting her when she dares to close her eyes. The endless hallways and countless rooms filled with nothing. The feeling of the cold bricks under her bare feet as she wandered the corridors in a haze of boredom and anxiety. The dragon's there too, sharp teeth on display ready to bite and burn her at the slightest defiance. She can feel his embers tickling her arm. The markings of his claws on her cheek throbbing. She can't rember how many scars he left. How many open wounds that healed wrong.

She woke up screaming that night, just like the three nights before that. Waking up the whole castle. It's fellow residents irritated at her nightly "antics". She stopped sleeping after that. The days aren't much better

the constant feeling that what originally dragged her into that tower is coming after her again, is always at the forefront of her mind. She's skittish, reserved. The queen still doesn't understand why her daughter refuses to be touched. Rejecting every hug she tries to give her. The king can't comprehend why the princess barely talks, stuttering out what few words she utters.

The whole kingdom is gossiping. Repulsed by what their so-called princess has become. The dragon has been vanquished, the tower toppled. Move on. Little do they know both terrors still live on within her. Not to mention their constant negative views of her only feed her self-hatred all the more.

"Why can't the princess just be normal…"

Poor princess, forever trapped, wither by the dragon, the tower, the kingdom…or herself.

No, seriously I think the damsel in distress is one of the most heartbreaking self-reflecting tropes ever made.

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gor3-hound · 10 months

Text

are you lonely?

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, incest, dad leon, 18+ reader(obviously), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, dubcon??(just to be safe), a lot of self-loathing and guilt on leon's part

a/n: i apologise wholeheartedly if i tagged anything incorrectly, this is my first time ever posting something i've written(and one of my first times finishing an idea), but i will try my hardest. THIS IS DARK CONTENT, so please be careful reading and scroll if you don't like it!! also genuinely please tell me if i missed any tags! hope you like it :)

word count: 2.4k words

It never gets easier. Every single mission manages to drain Leon more than the last. He almost just gave up on it all a long time ago - he would have if it wasn't for one thing.

You.

As he opens the door from another exhausting mission, he's hit with the smell of home cooked food that has his mouth watering. The house is spotless, as always. Floors completely polished, the sound of music coming from the kitchen has him dragging his feet there on autopilot, eyes settling on you.

His sweet daughter is at the stove, stirring something in a pot. You haven't even noticed he's home yet, humming along to the music coming from your phone softly as you cook. He leans against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest, just gazing at you for a few moments.

God, he missed you.

“Hey, honey.” He hums, the corner of his mouth twitching in a close approximation of a smile, about all he can manage after the shit he's seen this past week. Your movements pause, and then you're tilting your head over your shoulder to look at him.

“Dad! You're home!” You exclaim, shooting him a smile that lights up your whole face. He barely has time to react before your arms are wrapped around his torso, giving him a tight hug. He never feels like he deserves your affection. He's barely even around, but you're always clinging to him like a needy puppy when he is.

“Mhm. Managed to finish up a little early.” He mumbles, a hand coming to your head to press it against his chest, giving your waist a little squeeze with his other one. Doesn't bother telling you about what he was doing. Doesn't want you worrying. “You miss me?”

“Course I did.” You reply without hesitation, giving him a squeeze in return before pulling away from him. “Gotta keep cooking before it burns, though. You hungry?” You ask softly, returning to the stove.

He hums softly, eyes lingering on you as he walks away. He finds himself looking at you for a little too long, blinking his eyes to snap himself out of it. “Yeah, I could eat.”

His gaze finds you again before long. His eyes flick over your form, hovering on your curves for a moment before he frowns. Jesus. Since when did he look at his daughter like that? Since when did his daughter look like that? Must of been a while, but he's only really noticing it now

He's only been gone for a week, but it feels like a lifetime. You're always so happy to see him, always acting so domestic. You cook for him, clean for him and cuddle up to him after he's had a particularly tough day.

You'd make a good wife for someone one day.

His frown deepens as his brain supplies that thought to him. Is this what's happening to him now? He's so sick that he's attracted to his own damn daughter? Is that really how fucked up his life has got?

He gets a little weird after that, eating dinner with you in silence when it's done before rushing off to the bedroom. You ask him about 100 times what's wrong, but he always gives you the same ‘it's nothing, honey, just tired.’ You don't believe a word of it, naturally. You know your dad better than that, know when something’s bothering him

And you're a sweet girl. Too sweet for him, if he's being honest. So he shouldn't be surprised when you go to check on him after you clean up the dishes before you go to bed. But he wasn't thinking right, and you walk in on him right as he's pumping his dick to the thought of you.

“Shit…” He breathes out as he sees you in the doorway. He thinks he's going to be sick when the sight of your surprised face is what tips him over the edge, your pretty lips parted in shock as he cums harder than he has in years.

Post-nut clarity hits him like a train, guilt clawing its way up his chest, nausea setting in. “Fuck, baby. I'm so sorry.” He says quickly, too stunned to move. His hand is still gripping his cock, still hard and leaking, his hand coated in his release.

And you're just staring, unable to take your eyes away. Makes your stomach flip and your heart beat faster. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He quickly seems to snap out of his daze and yanks the cover over himself, his jaw tightening as he refuses to meet your eyes.

You find yourself disappointed that you can't see him like that anymore, a frown tugging at your face. “It's okay, dad.” You manage to say, voice a little strained. Heat pools in your stomach, and you fidget a little as you stand in the doorway, your common sense warring with what you wanted.

“I just wanted to check on you.” You say after a moment of silence, Leon still not looking at you. “You seemed… weird at dinner. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You continue to stand awkwardly in the doorway before you shift further into the room. Against your better judgement, you sit on the edge of his bed, trying to catch his eye.

“It's okay, dad. Really.” You tell him, reaching a hand out to touch his cheek. He lets out a stifled groan, his eyes squeezing shut. You're too good for him. “My fault for not knocking.”

His eyes crack open to meet yours, and he slowly realises he's found you beautiful for a long time - more than what's considered acceptable as a father. Ever since you came back from college during one of your breaks, filling out your clothes in a way you never had before, looking up at him with those pretty eyes…

Fuck. He's sick. He deserves to rot in hell. He'd noticed long ago, pushed the thoughts away so he could be the father you deserved. And you're perfect. So goddamn beautiful, like you were made for him. Your hand is so warm and soft where it cups his cheek, your touch so gentle.

He's been so, so lonely. And you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen, brows furrowed in concern as he refuses to answer you. Knows if he opens his mouth, he's gonna say some shit he regrets.

He ends up doing something he's gonna regret, anyway. Can't help himself when you're giving him those eyes. He's grabbing you by the cheeks, pulling you into a kiss without even thinking about it.

You pull away, and he whimpers. He tugs you back in again, kissing you with more fervour this time. Your body freezes up, then you find yourself kissing back, and he's not sure if that's worse or not. Guilt is eating him alive, but he can't help himself.

“I'm so sorry, baby.” He murmurs between kisses, desperately tugging you closer to him. His tongue slips into your mouth, and he moans softly as your own prods against his. “Can't help it. You're so pretty.”

This time, you're the one deepening the kiss. His hands find your waist, his grip tightening. He didn't realise how badly he needed this. Needed you. He can feel how badly you want him, the way you're pressing up against him as he kisses you.

It's so wrong. He wants to do so many things to you. You want him in a way no one has ever wanted him before, even more than your mom ever did. It's intoxicating, makes him dizzy. He feels so pathetic. What kind of sicko wants to fuck his own daughter? He's your dad. He should be protecting you from creeps like this, not making a move on you.

“Baby…” He breathes out, pulling away from your mouth, his heart hammering in his chest at the disappointed look that spreads across your face. “We can't do this. Y'know that, yeah?”

But his hands move to settle on your hips, tugging you into his lap, the duvet the only thing separating you from sitting on his bare cock that he never had a chance to shiver back into his pants after you caught him. He's not strong enough, needs you to be the one to bring him to his senses. You just needed to say no, and he'd be able to stop. But you don't, and he's too weak to do it himself. Far too weak.

“Daddy…” You breathe out, frown tugging at your lips. “Please? Just this once?”

How is he meant to say no to that? He buries the guilt, buries the self-loathing. He's good at that - pushing away his feelings and pretending that everything's okay. He can't deny his pretty girl of anything, especially not when she asks so sweetly.

So he kisses you again. It's a messy, sloppy kiss, one that has him groaning and rocking his hips up to get some kind of friction on his aching cock. It twitches, already leaking pre-cum. He can't even remember the last time he fucked someone. Can't believe he's about to fuck you. He's tempted to cut his dick off after this. Doesn't deserve it.

It's not long before his hands are pawing desperately at your pants, tugging them off along with your panties. He keeps your shirt on, pretends that makes him better, even if he wants to see how your tits bounce. Hey, he thinks, at least I had some self-control.

You moan so prettily when his thumb brushes your clit, rubbing slow circles into it. You're already so wet, his cock jumping with interest. Even Hell is too good for him.

Your hands slip down to tug at the fabric separating the two of you, your hips only hovering long enough to pull the duvet down and expose him, a low whine spilling from your lips.

“Want it, daddy. Please?” You murmur, dipping your head down to kiss his neck, making him suppress a groan.

“Yeah, baby. Anything you want.” He breathes out, his free hand reaching for the base to make his cock stand tall, offering it up like some kind of treat while his other hand still rubs lazy circles onto your clit.

You both moan in sync as you lower yourself onto his length. His hand slips to your hip, gripping it to guide your movements. His hips buck up into you, his tip brushing your cervix whenever you sink down fully onto him.

You're so wet, and you squeeze him just right. He's going to go insane. There's no way he can help himself now. He's never gonna stop thinking about how good you feel wrapped around him.

“Fuck, honey. Pussy's made just for me,” he groans, cringing as he says the words. He's never been a fan of dirty talk, feels awkward. Worse when he thinks about who he's fucking. But you feel so good, he really can't stop himself. His brain isn't working anymore.

“You're so big.” You whine, grinding your hips down against him more than actually riding him, like you don't want his dick to leave you for even a moment. Cute. He almost cums just at the way your face twists as he fucks up into you.

“S’all yours, baby. C'mon,” he coos, thumb slipping away from your clit and making you whimper, just so he can grab your waist with both hands. “Ride daddy.”

He lifts you up and down, helping you ride him. You rock your hips desperately, moaning as he presses up against your sweet spot with every thrust, picking up the pace as he fucks into you. He's able to manhandle you so easily, which only has you moaning louder, your eyes fluttering shut.

With his hands occupied with gripping your waist as he helps you fuck yourself on his dick, you bring your own hand down to rub at your clit, making the heat in your stomach build rapidly.

The bed creaks as he picks up the pace again, rutting deeper into you than before, your pussy making the most obscene squelching noises. It's downright sinful, Leon has to use all of his focus to stop himself from cumming right then and there. Fuck, if it wasn't for him jerking off right before you came in, he'd have cum as soon as he saw your pretty pussy.

You're close, biting your lip to sniffle your moans as they grow louder, fingers moving faster against your clit. Your dad notices, shifting his hips until he's pounding relentlessly into your sweet spot, making you see stars.

He feels his chest swell with pride when he feels you tense up, pussy clenching around his cock deliciously as your orgasm hits, juices gushing past his cock and coating his balls. He didn't even know he still had it in him, thought his dick game died in his 20s. This was a pleasant surprise.

His balls tighten, and he knows he's about to cum. He grunts and goes to pull you off of him, but you whine and shake your head, pushing yourself down. “S'okay, daddy. I'm on birth control. Wanna feel it, please.”

He frowns a little at that. He doesn't like thinking about other guys fucking you. You're his princess, a sweet girl. Your daddy will take care of you, not these other losers. God, he's fucked up.

“Yeah, baby? Want daddy to fill you up?” He grunts, flipping you over with ease so your back's pressed to the bed, him hovering over you. He pounds into you with renewed vigor, head hanging and bangs covering his eyes.

“Fuck.” He hisses as he buries himself balls deep in you, cock kicking inside your pussy as he cums. He pants a little as he fills you, he's not quite as young as he used to be. Takes it out of him sometimes.

He pulls out and slumps next to you. You cuddle up to him instantly, and that guilt and shame comes to the surface again. He pulls you close to him, pets your hair and kisses your forehead like he always does.

“Love you, baby girl.” He murmurs, his free hand pulling the covers up and over your body, his fingertips scratching your scalp lightly.

“I love you more, dad.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #dark content

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ninibeingdelulu · 4 months

Text

His biggest fan ✧

bachira’s version here

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Plot: You’re the girlfriend of one of the player of Blue Lock, cheering him up during one of his game.

A/N: 100% fluff. My man, my man. Daily reminder: English isn’t my first language.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The crowd roared with cheers as the final block secured the victory. Rin stood with his teammates, breathing hard after the grueling match.

All their training had paid off with this win against the tough opponents.

As the announcer declared their team the champions, Rin searched the stands. Finally, his gaze landed on her - you were jumping up and down, waving a banner with his name on it.

Your eyes shone with pride for him.

Despite his usual stoic demeanor, Rin felt a warmth spread through him at your enthusiastic support.

You had been there for all his matches, always believing in him even when he doubted himself.

As his teammates crowded around to celebrate, Rin broke away from the group.

He jogged over to where you waited at the edge of the court. Your smile only grew brighter at his approach.

Without hesitating, Rin pulled you into a tight embrace, uncaring who might see this rare display of affection. You hugged him back just as fiercely, so happy for his achievement.

"I couldn't have done it without you," Rin murmured in your ear.

His cold facade melted away in the comfort of your arms. For a moment, all that existed was you and the joy of sharing this victory with the one who loved him unconditionally.

The crowd faded into the background as you both savored the warmth of that celebration hug, a sweet reward for their enduring love and partnership.

As Rin held you close, he was loathe to let go just yet. Your heart swelled at this unguarded show of emotion from him.

Pulling back slightly, you smiled up at Rin, noting the way his dark eyes still shone with exhilaration and triumph.

"You were amazing out there," you told him proudly.

Rin's stoic mask had fully slipped away now, and the barest hint of a smile tugged at his lips in response to your praise.

"It's thanks to your faith in me," he insisted quietly.

Behind you, his teammates continued calling out in celebration, but you and Rin were lost in your own world in that moment.

Impulsively, you stretched up on your toes to plant a kiss on Rin's cheek. A faint dusting of pink colored his cheeks in response.

His arms tightened around your waist then, drawing you even nearer.

You could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat where your hands rested on his chest, a testament to the intensity of the match but also to the depth of feelings you both shared.

All too soon, Rin's coach was calling him over for a team huddle. Reluctantly, you began to step back, but Rin held on a moment longer.

"Wait for me after?" he asked, uncharacteristically hopeful.

You beamed and nodded, thrilled by this softer side he chose to show only you.

With one more fleeting caress of your cheek, Rin released you and jogged over to celebrate with his teammates.

You watched on proudly, certain this was only the beginning of great things for the man you loved.

#rin itoshi #rin x reader #rin x you #rin x y/n #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi fluff #bllk headcanons #rin itoshi headcanons #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi is hot #blue lock x you #bllk u20 #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x reader #blue lock

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charmandabear · 7 months

Text

Office Hours - Chapter Six

Summary:

Astarion surprises you with a night at the theatre that doesn't go quite according to your plan.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.7k Tags/Warnings: rough/angry sex, hair pulling, emotional manipulation, dubcon, bad BDSM practices, angst, daddy kink, reminiscent of Ascended!Astarion, discussions of domestic abuse (in Taming of the Shrew)

Hi. Hello. My sweets. My darlings. This is it. The chapter where you absolutely must mind the tags. Just know that I won't take you anywhere that we won't be able to come back from. Know that I, too, am an absolute baby when it comes to intense subject matter in fics. But I want you to take care of yourselves and your hearts. As always, shoot me a message if you'd like more specifics.

Photo credits: Zaria for Green Pussy Suit Astarion and Nephi Garcia for the incredible dress.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

“In the library? Babes, are you insane?” Shadowheart's voice reaches a pitch you’re fairly sure only dogs can hear. You curl your knees into your chest and cover your face in your hands, feeling the exact appropriate amount of shame.

“I know, I know. All logic goes out the fucking window around him. All I can think is ‘mm, good dick makes brain go brr.’” You let out a frustrated sigh into your hands.

“Do you want to get fired?” She pulls your hand from your face so you can't hide from her pointed stare.

“Oh trust me, I ran about forty different scenarios of that happening through my head on the drive home.”

“Did you, now? And in how many of these did he also get fired?” Shadowheart presses, knowing how your anxiety can get out of hand.

“Like, two,” you groan and drop your head back onto the couch cushions. “I don't know what comes over me. I feel like I can't tell him no.”

“Wait, wait.” Shadowheart grips your knee, suddenly worried. “You can't tell him no as in it feels too good to stop? Or as in it doesn't feel safe to say no?”

“Nine hells, no, the first one!” you respond, horrified. She squints at you and you squirm under her gaze until you’re finally more truthful, both with her and yourself. “Well, I mean, mostly. Like it's not like that. But like also not not like that, you know?”

“I can assure you I do not,” she says in a flat voice, not interested in joking around. You sigh dramatically, trying to find the right words to describe how you feel.

“Like. Okay. Am I fully consenting to everything we do? Yes. 100%. Oh gods, yes.” Your cheeks tinge pink even thinking about it. “But like… am I going against my best judgment? Do I feel like I should say no? Does part of me kinda wish I would say no? Like… maybe?”

“Tav, that's not okay. You need to talk to him about this.” Shadowheart’s voice is soft with genuine worry. Which is ridiculous, because she’s focusing on the wrong thing.

“No, see, that's the thing. It's not actually a him issue, it's a me issue. Like there's something wrong with me, I see his most toxic traits and suddenly I'm like a horny teenager!” Your voice increases in pitch as you grow more hysterical. “How am I supposed to call him out on it when the only words that will come out of my mouth are ‘yes daddy, more please’?”

“Is there anything redeemable about him at all? Besides being good in bed?” She leans back, taking a sip of her wine and fixing you with an incredulous look.

“I mean… yeah. He’s witty, and bantering back and forth with him is fun. He’s incredibly smart, as loath as I am to admit it, and I like hearing his ideas on things, especially his interpretation of Shakespeare’s text.” You don't even notice the smile growing on your face, but Shadowheart does. “And he’s got this unexpectedly soft side. Like he seems cold and aloof on the outside, but he cares, deeply. About his students, about his cat, about-”

“About you?” she interjects, and your smile falters.

“I don't know, Shade,” you say quietly, almost ashamed to look her in the eye. “I think so. I hope so. But it's not like we've been seeing each other for that long, he’s under no obligation to feel anything.” You practically swallow the last sentence, a truth you're reticent to voice.

“And you?” she asks softly.

“Man, I don't fucking know. I just want to keep getting laid and not catch feelings, is that so much to ask?” you whine. She laughs, but you can tell that she's only humoring you.

“For you? Probably.”

***

It's been several days and your busy schedules have kept you and Astarion apart for most of it. Save the occasional tension-filled passing in the hall, you've barely interacted at all. You're almost beginning to believe that your whirlwind affair has come to an end when you find a mystery package at your apartment door.

It's made out to you with no discernable return address. You bring the box into your apartment while examining it, trying to ascertain its origin. It doesn't even really look like it was sent through the mail, it looks like it was dropped off.

You take out your phone and call down to the front desk. It rings a few times, then a somber voice answers.

“What dost thou require?” His voice is deep and crackled, like some ancient eternal being.

“Hi Withers, it's Tav in 3C. Do you know anything about this package that was left at my door?”

“I have inspected it, and determined it safe for you to open. It was brought by someone claiming to be a friend.”

“Can you tell me anything about this someone?”

“No.”

And the line goes dead. You laugh and shake your head. If Withers says it's safe, then it probably is. You’d trust that wrinkly old man with your life, honestly. You cut open the tape sealing the box shut and lift off the top.

Inside is something wrapped in tissue paper with a note stuck to it in Astarion's immaculate handwriting.

Tomorrow evening The Rosewood Seven o’clock Wear nothing underneath

You let out a small involuntary moan when you read the last three words. You carefully unwrap the tissue paper to find a fabric that looks like it's made of starlight. You pull out the midnight black dress and go slightly breathless when you get a good look at it.

It’s a backless dress with a sweetheart neckline and intricate gold embellishments that almost make it look like armor. It has a lavish gold neck piece attached by several gold chains that drip over the skin. The skirt is made of a weightless black fabric that shimmers with gold as you move it in the light. It almost appears to be cut into two panels with dual hip-high slits.

With a dress cut like this, you wouldn't be able to wear undergarments even if you wanted to.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you think about what he might have in store for you. You're not even sure what's running at the Rosewood right now, but it could be complete trash and you wouldn't even care. You probably won't even be able to pay attention, too distracted by Astarion sitting next to you for two hours.

You feel a pulsing between your legs at the thought. You think of his hand sliding up your knee while you struggle to keep a straight face. Or him reaching an arm around you, gently sliding his fingers into your hair before giving it a sharp tug.

Another moan works its way out of your throat and you follow it up with an annoyed groan. You can really get swept up at the most inconvenient times. It’s not like you don’t have any work you need to do or anything. You roll your eyes as you stalk off to draw a bath.

***

Waiting in the lobby of the theater, you’re feeling surprisingly nervous. The dress, though beautiful, is not particularly comfortable. With all of its various chains and pieces, you needed Shadowheart’s help just to put it on. It helps that she’s also incredibly talented when it comes to hair and makeup, so in truth you feel positively glamorous.

When you see Astarion, however, everything goes silent. You’re certain that he’s posing for you the way he’s stopped to adjust his cuff. The cut of the suit he’s wearing is exceptionally flattering and you imagine running your hands all over the emerald velvet. His crisp white button down is almost sheer and you desperately want to pull him into you by that forest green silk tie.

But you can’t tear your eyes away from his face. This is the first time you've seen him wear makeup, and the simple smokey eyeliner look makes his red irises pop. He’s decided to forgo his glasses, presumably opting for contacts instead to show off the makeup. He’s also swapped out his standard silver hoops for little daggers with a red rhinestone glimmering at the hilt.

He looks up at you the moment you lay eyes on him, or more specifically, the moment your heart starts to beat out of your chest. He flashes you a devastating smile before striding up to you and pulling you into a deep kiss. You can’t even be bothered to care that the other patrons are probably staring as he slides his hand onto your bare lower back, his cool touch sending a shiver up your spine.

He pulls away from you just enough to breathlessly ask, “Are you ready to sit down?”

“Huh?” You’re distracted, too busy plotting a mental path to the bathrooms to fuck him. He lets out a winded chuckle.

“The play. House is open, would you care to find our seats?” His palm is still pressed against your back and you can barely form coherent thoughts. You still don’t even know what play you’re here to see. You just want—no, need—to be near him.

“Um, yeah,” you respond, still trying to get your bearings and remind yourself how to be a person. You let him lead you into the theater, and only once you're in your seats do you realize that neither of you grabbed a program. You pull out your phone to see if you can look it up, but service in the Rosewood is notoriously bad. Instead you just need to sit still next to Astarion, who looks like a dream and smells even better.

He glances at you as your heart quickens again and his lips curl into a smile. He slips his hand behind your neck and lightly runs his finger along the seam between the golden collar of the dress and your flesh, sending goosebumps down your arms. He leans toward you until his lips are almost brushing your ear.

“You look absolutely ravishing, my dear,” he whispers, his breath tickling your earlobe. You turn your face toward him on instinct, your chest heaving as you try to steady your breathing. Your lips hover inches apart, anticipating the kiss, when suddenly a throng of noisy actors come barreling down the aisles. You snap away from Astarion as the cacophony of their shrieks of laughter, calls across the audience to one another, and drunken banter fill the house.

One of them clambors onto the stage and shouts, “For God’s sake, a pot of small ale!” He’s dressed in rags and appears by far to be the drunkest of them all. Three servingmen swarm him with various shouts of, “Will’t please your honor?” He shoves them all away and proudly takes up space center stage.

“I am Christophero Sly! Call not me ‘Honor’ nor ‘Lordship,’” he bellows as the rest of the players make their way onto the stage.

Christopher Sly… you’re wracking your brain to remember which play he serves as a framing device for. Most productions cut this scene because it’s long and completely irrelevant. You just can’t for the life of you remember which play he appears in.

The scene continues with their drunken antics and slapstick comedy as the players address Sly as “my noble lord,” making him believe he’s a king that they’re about to perform for. Eventually they carry Sly out on a makeshift palanquin as the “play within the play” begins. Two handsome young men in preppy clothes enter, holding a book and wearing glasses that aren’t too dissimilar from Astarion’s round metal ones. The one without the glasses speaks first.

“Tranio, since for the great desire I had to see fair Padua…”

Tranio? Isn’t he one of the characters in Taming of the Shrew?

He knows you don’t like this play.

Well, if it’s all that’s playing at the Rosewood right now…

But if that’s the case why not just, like, see a movie?

You shift uncomfortably in your dress and cast your gaze towards Astarion. He smiles, taking your fingers and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles before turning back to the stage. He keeps your hand in his, absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

You can feel your heart pounding in your ears and you find yourself wondering what’s running through his head. Just when you think you have him figured out, he does something to surprise you. And honestly, not always in a good way.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. You know the creative team at the Rosewood wouldn’t pick this show if they weren’t going to try to do something with it.

But even still… is this text even redeemable?

You sit through the entirety of the show cringing as the audience around you laughs at flagrant displays of domestic abuse. The actors, several of whom you’ve worked with before, are trying their hardest to make the lines playful, but some things just can’t be recovered. Between the forced starvation, physical intimidation, and gaslighting, you wonder why companies even bother performing this play anymore. No matter how witty the writing is, it’s just too out of date to be a good season choice.

When the time comes for Kate’s final monologue, you watch in pain as the actress tries to wink-wink-nudge-nudge her way through lines like “place your hands below your husband’s foot.” She’s young, and you wonder if this is one of her first professional gigs. You get a little sad knowing that she’s probably just desperate to do anything, even if it’s trash.

Maybe you’re being a little harsh. All of the individual elements of the show—the acting, set, costumes, direction, lighting—were quite good. You just can’t get over how irredeemable this text is. Worth teaching, yes, and maybe even taking Act II out of context just for the fun banter and clever wordplay. But professional theatre companies should really just retire this one.

In the Lyft back to your apartment, you decide to get Astarion’s take on the matter.

“Do you think it’s possible to redeem a text like Taming in a modern age?”

He pauses for a moment, continuing to look away from you and out the window.

“I do, yes,” he finally answers. “I think it takes a skilled hand, but it can be successful when done well.”

You sit on his response, chewing it over. You decide to take a different route.

“I guess a better question is do you think it’s worth trying to? Like, what are we getting out of it anymore?”

“Is entertainment not enough?” he says with a laugh. You wrinkle your nose at him.

“Sure, if you’re a basic ass bitch. But I want my art to mean something. And I can’t think of what this play can possibly mean if it’s not ‘shrill women are annoying and should learn their place.’” You cross and uncross your legs, trying to keep yourself decent.

“Last I checked, you enjoy being put in your place,” he says in a low hum and your pussy betrays you with a clench.

“Shut up,” you grumble, and you’re grateful that the dark car hides your reddening cheeks. “It’s different.”

“Is it, though? Ultimately it is a text about two dysfunctional people finding comfort in one another.” His sincerity catches you off guard, and almost makes you angry that he’s been taken in by the propaganda.

“That’s only a valid interpretation if you ignore half of what happens in the play. They’re not equally dysfunctional, Kate literally gets beaten into submission and pretends to be happy about it. Petruchio is exactly the same from the start to the finish, he has no fucking character arc.” Your hands start to shake as you try to keep your cool. You’ve had this conversation far too many times with men who think they can interpret out the sexism by simply glossing over Kate’s abuse.

The Lyft stops in front of your building and you thank the driver as you get out. Astarion follows you, and you’re not even sure if you want him to accompany you upstairs. But you remain silent as you walk past Withers and into the elevator.

“You’re overreacting,” Astarion says once the elevator doors close. “People are drawn to this play for a reason. The text is excellent, and no one truly thinks of Petruchio as an abuser.”

“Are you joking?” Your voice gets shrill and the similarity to Kate isn’t lost on you. “The whole thing normalizes his abuse. The fact that people don’t think of him as an abuser is the problem.”

“It’s a slapstick comedy,” he snaps, his voice growing stern. “Are you going to tell me that we need to cancel the Three Stooges because it promotes violence?”

“Don’t be fucking condescending,” you spit. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“How is it not the same? Suddenly because it’s a woman in the role it no longer counts? Are you implying that women should be barred from certain types of performance because of their gender?” He walks past you into your apartment and you throw your keys and bag on the counter, not even bothering to see where they land.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, now you’re just twisting my words,” you grumble, more frustrated than ever by your inability to match his eloquence.

“So use your own words,” he sneers, whirling around to face you. “How is it not the same?”

“It’s because- well, I- It’s different, just- argh!” Your head is clouded by your attraction to him, which has annoyingly only grown over the past few minutes of shouting. You’re suddenly reminded of the smug arrogant bastard that you first met. He lets out a jeering laugh.

“See? You can’t even defend your own point.”

His sardonic cruelty sets something off in you and you angrily grab the lapel of his green suit. Your intentions are a complete mystery even to you, because as soon as you’re within inches of one another, instincts take over. You crush his lips into yours and pull him backwards until you thump against the door behind you. He paws hungrily at the dress, sliding his hand under the slit and around to grab your bare ass. You gasp into his touch, feeling equally frustrated and aroused that he even controlled what you wore tonight.

Your fingers make their way into his hair and you pull hard, breaking the kiss and leaving his mouth open, panting. His eyes are sparkling with a fire that you haven’t seen yet and a low growl manifests in your throat. He smirks and buries his teeth into your shoulder, something he usually asks bespoke permission for. You cry out in response, twisting your hands tighter into his silvery locks.

He unlatches from your shoulder and pushes his knee past the front of your skirt and up onto your bare cunt. You grind wantonly against the velvet as he kisses you with bloody lips. He grabs hold of the delicate chains of the dress and yanks, detaching them from the collar and making the entire bodice crumple and pool around your waist. Your nipples immediately harden at the sudden exposure to cold air and he pinches one sharply between his fingers. Your hips roll into his leg as you groan, fully ruining his pants. He continues to bite around your neck and shoulders, placing little puncture wounds in his path, marking you as his.

You grab onto his tie and push him away so you can shimmy out of the rest of the dress. You’re now down to just the gold collar of the dress and your heels, a look you wish you could hate but don’t. You pull him across your living area and toward your bedroom, shoving him down onto the edge of the bed.

“Thou hast hit it, come, sit on me,” he says, quoting Petruchio with a sinister grin. Kate’s retort falls out of your mouth reflexively.

“Asses are made to bear, and so are you,” you hiss as you straddle his hips, wrapping his tie around your hand until you’ve gripped it up to the knot. Your other hand violently unbuckles his belt, yanking it through the loops with a snap.

“Women are made to bear, and so are you,” he says with a caustic laugh, digging his nails into your ass cheeks. You tug sharply on his tie, bringing his lips close to yours.

“No such jade as you, if me you mean,” you snarl and silence him with an angry kiss. You don’t want to encourage his idiotic behavior, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said this wasn’t a fantasy you’ve had before. You fumble with the buttons of his suit jacket, trying to get him undressed as quickly as possible. You’re not sure if you feel more vulnerable or more powerful being undressed while he’s still fully clothed, but either way you want him naked, now. You get about three buttons into his shirt before you grow impatient, ripping it the rest of the way open and sending buttons flying.

Good. Let him need to repair his clothes for once.

You push him flat onto his back and descend onto his chest, alternating kisses, licks, and bites. Your dull human teeth don’t have nearly the same effect as his fangs, but it just means you get to bite twice as hard in order to leave a mark. He writhes beneath your touch, and you feel a twisted satisfaction at the quiet little grunts and gasps you’re finally pulling from him. He’s rarely this vocal during sex, and it’s only serving to spur you on more.

His groans build until you capture his nipple in your teeth and bite down, causing him to shout and buck his hips up into you. In a flash he flips you around onto your back and he bears down on you, eyes dangerous.

“Little love, do you think you’re in control?” he asks in a low growl, his hand gripped around your jaw. You sneer and slide your leg against the strained bulge in his pants. He hisses and your smile widens.

“Right now? Yes,” you coo, continuing to press your calf against his velvet-covered cock. You grab the tie still hanging around his neck and pull him close.

“If you want it back, fucking take it.”

If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?

He kisses you roughly, catching your bottom lip in his teeth biting hard enough to puncture the skin. He pulls back slightly, a drop of your blood running down his chin and a snide grin. He makes like he’s about to kiss you again but shoves your face away before your lips make contact.

This is the worst you’ve ever seen him—the most arrogant, the most condescending, borderline cruel even. And you have never been more turned on.

If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?

“Is that all you’ve got?” you taunt, licking the blood from your lips. “Go ahead, choke me, daddy.”

The feminist in you is horrified, but the little gremlin controlling your libido is having the time of its life. It squeals with delight when his hand closes around your throat, just barely constricting your breathing.

“You insolent little brat,” he breathes into your ear, pulling up on your jaw. “I will absolutely ruin you.”

And there will be no tenderness, no tenderness.

“Do it, coward,” you spit, and he lets go just long enough to finish undressing from the waist down. He grabs your still heeled ankle and presses your leg up by your shoulder, stretching you wide enough to take him without any prep. You gasp as he fills you, the stinging pain outweighed by the gratification of finally feeling him inside you.

The only thing that I ask, love me mercilessly.

He sets a punishing rhythm, one knee on the bed and the other foot still firmly planted on the floor. He bottoms out with each long thrust and you grab hold of his hair to brace yourself. He winces with the pain but doesn’t slow down, and your moans grow high and loud as he continues to furiously pound into you.

“Gods, fuck, Astarion,” you keen, your desire coiling in your belly and threatening to explode. “Keep going, daddy, fuck me please.” He grunts with the effort and your dirty talk seems to be having an effect as his pace falters. You jerk your hips up into him, chasing your orgasm, until finally it barrels through you like a runaway train. You pull on his hair as you come and that sets off his, his pulsing cock pressing against the clenching walls of your cunt.

He stays deep inside you as the aftershocks reverberate through both of you, until the only sound remaining is your heavy panting. He drops his forehead to touch yours, a pleasantly tender moment after some of the roughest sex you can recall having. He starts to giggle and you follow suit, suddenly giddy. He pulls out of you with a squelch and walks to the bathroom to get a towel to clean up the mess you’ve left behind. He wipes you down gently, a surprising bit of aftercare you’re not accustomed to with him. He plants a tender kiss on your lips and you feel dizzy with affection for him.

You settle up against the headboard of your bed, his arm around you and both of you looking at your phones in a companionable silence. After a moment, he lets out a small chuckle.

“What?” you ask, turning your head towards him quizzically.

“I’m just shocked that worked, is all,” he laughs, shaking his head. Your confusion grows and you furrow your brow.

“What worked?” you laugh with him, but something doesn’t feel right.

“The whole night, taking you to see Taming, getting into just enough of a fight to result in,” he vaguely waves his hand, gesturing to the edge of the bed, “all of that.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” You pull away from him and your stomach drops. Surely he can’t be suggesting what you think he’s suggesting.

“You get riled up so easily, I thought this might be fun.” He still doesn’t seem to have picked up on your heart pounding in your ears, which is frankly unusual for him.

“Are you saying… Wait, are you saying that you planned that fight? So, what, we’d have angry sex?”

“Of course, you don’t think I actually believe anything that I said, do you? Taming of the Shrew might be well-written, but it’s a rubbish play to produce.” He finally turns to you and sees that you’ve gone white as a sheet. “Oh, darling, don’t take it like that, you’re positively adorable when you’re angry, I couldn’t resist.” He tries putting his hand to your cheek but you flinch away like he’s burned you.

“Get out,” you say in a low voice, unable to even look at him.

“What?” He’s still laughing. He doesn’t get it. “My sweet, didn’t you-”

“GET. OUT.” Your voice has a venom in it that even shocks you. He stares at you in horror until you shoot him an icy glare. “Now.”

Without a word he stands and quickly puts his clothes back on. You stay in your bed, naked and curled under a sheet, until you hear the front door of your apartment slam. With shaking hands, you call Shadowheart.

“Moonmaiden’s delight, did you enjoy yourself? It certainly sounded like you did.” The sound of Shadowheart’s bubbly laugh usually makes you smile, but right now it seeps into your skin like poison.

“Shade, please come over,” you whimper, and the second the words leave your mouth, the tears begin to fall. You don’t hear her hang up, but you do hear a muffled, “I’m going to fucking kill him!” through the wall. You pull your knees further into your chest and sob.

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