#I'd be surprised if he was 19

[creechurrr]

I sometimes remember that era during the idots where Skeppy was probably stressing way too much over Bad's Minecraft horse irl, but also that one stream where he kept trying to pretend Bad was killing him, and the reason he did that was because he felt guilty he was pranking Bad all the time, and Bad's big prank against him was making a huge Skeppy server, lol. When Bad said it was alright and that "you're just a prankster!" it was so cute Skeppy being like, "but...! ugh, Bad!" They're sweet. And I think to break the news that Skeppy really did kill Roberto he told Bad a little story with ducklings and such? Man, what a time. It is funny how much Skeppy pranked Bad, but he was so devastated over the idea of having to tell Bad that he had killed the horse and replaced it at LEAST three times.

[pseudowho]

Bedlocked

On a University city trip, someone's got to share a hotel room with Nanami Kento, the class's misunderstood loner...and it's going to be you.

Warnings: College AU! Nanami Kento x Reader, double loss of virginity, "just one bed", heavy make-out, PIV creampie, dry humping, fingering, handjob, both reader and Nanami aged 19

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Nanami Kento wore the awkward bearing of a young man who was surprised by the man he was growing to be. Being uniquely in possession of those excellent traits which were overlooked by girls, but adored by women, he had outgrown himself, from personality to hair, and was unsure how to wear it. Not yet having grown the confidence to lean into his character, and own it, he had been written off by the girls in your class as sullen, boring, miserable-- a downer.

All the girls, that is, except for you. And this was how you found yourself to be sharing a hotel room with Kento, on your thesis research trip to Kyoto.

"--made a mistake with the bookings, we're several rooms short--"

'--well we can share a bed, that's fine, but I'm not sharing with him--"

"--I dunno...I don't think he'd try anything, I just...want to have fun, that's all, and he's a bit..."

You scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose as the other young women spoke amongst themselves. Kento had not arrived, and yet, was the talk of the group. As the only young man in the class, he had maintained a respectful, professional distance from the young women in it. It had earned him what you thought was a rather undeserved reputation.

Where the others saw uptight, you saw diligence. Where they saw boring, you saw reserved. Where others saw sarcastic, you saw hilarious. Where they saw grumpy, you saw rage against the machine.

In truth, you had long-since harboured an obsession with Kento. His hushed intensity was magnetic, and carried a mass you longed to draw you in. While others saw you as opposites, you saw yourself and Kento as each others' perfect foil. Matching puzzle pieces. Each others' missing ingredient.

And, god, you ached for him, alone at night with your hand drifting downwards. And you would not let him be treated like a leper.

"For goodness' sake, I'll share with Kento." You piped up, seeing the other girls all look round at you. Their eyes drifted, widening in surprise at something behind you, and you did not hear the hotel lobby door swing open and closed outside of your view. "In fact, I'd be delighted to share with him. I'm sure he'll be just as funny and respectful as he always is."

"You think I'm funny."

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the question framed as a statement, and spun round to face Kento...but not as you knew him. You stuttered.

"Oh, wow, Kento...your hair..."

Gone was the sloppy, loping fringe. Instead, Kento's honey-blond hair was neatly parted, undercut, framing his face. All of a sudden, he was so...handsome. Kento glowered down at you, impassive and unreadable. He gave one baleful hum at your assessment of him.

"I assume something happened with the room bookings, then. For you to wind up stuck with me." Before you could answer, Kento pulled his phone out of his pocket, turning back to the doorway with one enormous hand grasping his suitcase handle. "You shouldn't have to make a decision to your detriment. It's not your fault. I'll find somewhere else to sta--"

Kento was interrupted, by your hand clasping over his on his suitcase handle. A grunt of surprise left his lips, at the feel of your dainty hand on his. He looked down at them, his expression always somewhere between anger and irritation. You knew better.

"Stay with me. We...get along well. We always have." Kento scowled, his eyes flickering behind you to the other girls, who, while surprised by how a simple haircut could alter Kento so, were sticking to their guns.

"I don't need your pity." Kento sniped, his voice low and earthy, "I'm perfectly happy to le--"

"And I'm perfectly happy to share. Stop being so headstrong and listen to me."

Kento bristled, looking torn between argument and agreement. As the others collected their keys, filing off to their respective rooms, you awaited his decision. With a huff, Kento fetched your room key, and headed off down the corridor. You fizzed with excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him, but suppressed it, following him with an air of assumed solemnity.

The airs and graces were soon dropped, when the door to your room swung shut behind you and Kento, and you found it to have--

"...just one bed. Shit." Kento's face twisted in discomfort, his Adams apple bobbing deliciously as he swallowed. His eyes trailed down to you, and caught your blush as if it were contagious. He turned to grasp the door handle again, stuttering, so unlike himself.

"Couldn't possibly-- absolutely not appropriate-- my mistake entirely-- find somewhere else--"

"Will you? Find somewhere else, I mean?" Kento faltered, his grip on the door handle loosening. He looked at you with something akin to dread. "On cherry blossom week? In historic Kyoto?" By the time you were finished talking, Kento had deflated like a sad balloon animal.

Night had long since fallen. You heard the laughter, baths and showers running, from the girls in the adjacent rooms. Your confidence was a total mask, as you opened your suitcase, rummaging inside for pyjamas. Your heart pounded in your chest, made all the worse by Kento's silent, tortured appraisal of you. You realised, with a jolt, that you had brought nothing but an oversized t-shirt and underwear to wear to bed.

Beneath his eyes, you were transparent. He felt the tension roll off you in waves. Kento cleared his throat, his ears red, a youthful flush across his nose.

"I'll-- I'll go shower." He offered, considering trying to drown himself. He heard you hum, speaking absentmindedly.

"Go on. Smelly boy." You had barely registered what you said, hearing something like a laugh from Kento as he swung the bathroom door closed behind him. You threw yourself face down on the bed, muffling your cries of anguish into a pillow. Kento leaned against the shower wall as water tumbled down his back, trying not to think with his cock, and failing miserably, cursing his body for its feral stupidity.

You remained face down on the bed. Trying to think unsexy thoughts was murder. You had always wondered how Kento looked, long and tight beneath old band t-shirts. You'd had the briefest glimpse of his abs and happy trail once, when he reached above you to switch the projector on in class. How you had restrained yourself from leaning in and licking the soft skin of his navel was beyond you. The thought of the noise he would have made, alone, had kept you going for weeks. The way you caught him looking at you in class the next day, took you the rest of the way.

"Shower's free." You sat bolt upright, your brain short-circuiting to see Kento stood at the bathroom door in nothing but pyjama trousers, steam billowing out across broad shoulders and swept back hair. You forced your mask back into place.

"Thought you'd died in there." You offered, not as casual as you sounded. You fumbled your shower bag and pyjamas out of your bag, and made your way to the bathroom. You and Kento danced awkwardly, trying to skirt round each other. With a grunt of irritation, Kento grasped your upper arms, moving you effortlessly around him into the bathroom. His touch was scalding. You wouldn't possibly make it through the weekend.

By the time you headed out of the shower, tugging at your t-shirt to make it cover more of your thighs, you blushed to your toes to see Kento sat up in bed, bare chested and reading. He read the same sentence over, and over, and over, trying with broken determination not to track his eyes up your legs, and imagine how you tasted between them. Feeling you hurriedly slip into bed beside him made his cock jump, and he reached out with a fumbling hand, switching off the light without warning.

Only the faint bathroom light illuminated the room. You both lay, backs to each other, on opposite sides of the bed. The silence grew oppressively heavy. You felt lightheaded, barely breathing, hyperaware of every noise and movement your bodies made. You were paralysed by thoughts of his honey-rich voice, his lightly freckled shoulders itching to be touched, how it would feel to be trapped beneath him while he fell apart above you.

"I'm sorry." You blinked, hearing Kento's apologetic rumble.

"...what are you sorry for?"

"This...this situation. I know I'm no fun to be around. And I've made my peace with that. But you--"

"You are fun. Very fun. I'm...not going to punish you for being an introvert."

Kento was quiet on his side of the bed, but no more relaxed. You had gathered the guts to reach one hand across the sheets to him, before he threw the covers aside, and moved to sit up.

"You need your own space. I'll sleep on the sofa." The 'sofa' sat at the end of the bed, barely more than a loveseat, and you snatched a hand out, grabbing Kento round the bicep. You almost shivered at the hard cords of muscle there, thicker than your hand by far, barely grasping on as Kento tensed.

"No. You're taller than me. I'll sleep on the sofa--"

"--absolutely not--"

"--stop being such a fucking gentleman and let me--"

"--I'm not a gentleman, it's just basic manners--"

"--listen, I feel fine, just come and share--"

"--offer some mad girl a bed and suddenly you're a gentleman--"

"Kento, please just come to bed with me."

Kento's brain stuttered, now. He rolled to face you, his whole body on fire, trying to sound calm. He was an open book, to you. You felt every nerve ending of your skin put to the flame.

"...come to bed...with you?" You moved to roll away and cover your face with your hands, indescribably mortified. Kento couldn't allow it-- not when he'd daydreamed about this for so long. He grasped your hands, rolling you back over to face him. He looked awkward, not used to his own strength, as you flipped back over with a squeak, and a weak apology from Kento. You had never noticed the beautiful whiskey depths of his eyes, before.

You were lost for words. The tables had turned so suddenly, you had no idea on which side you sat. Kento scoffed, a faint blush on his high cheekbones, scowling into a corner of the room. The silence thickened again. Kento huffed a laugh.

"Go to sleep. I'll...I'll just play some games for a while." He did not want to. He wanted to flip you over again, to hear that squeak again, wondering if you'd squeak or moan when he pressed his weeping length into your--

"Oh...what games did you bring?" Your eyes lit up, sparkling, sitting up in bed with a bounce. Kento melted. He wanted to put you in his pocket. He could manage the urges, but the affection overwhelmed him and he stuttered, fumbling for words.

"Because..." Kento waited on bated breath, your lips plush and parted, crawling just-so towards him on the bed, seeing how your breasts shifted between your arms beneath that fucking t-shirt and maybe she would want this too fuck we wouldn't come out all weekend once we've tasted each other fuck if she were my girlfriend she'd be my whole world wouldn't ask for anything else ever again--

"...because I'm desperate for a Gengar actually but I haven't got anyone to trade my Haunter with and--"

"Oh. I need a Golem."

"Oh."

"Nice."

You both rummaged in your bags, grabbing your GameBoys, and you swore, trying to find the cable to connect them. Kento raised his eyebrows, scooting himself back beside you in bed, and crossing his long legs.

"Really? You brought one? Who did you think was gonna trade with you, one of them out there--"

"I'll be honest, I was relying on you, Kento, like I always do." Kento's ears reddened. He moved to sweep back the fringe he no longer had. Instead, his long fingers swept back through his neat parting, mussing commas of blond over his forehead, in a way that made you want to do the same until his hair was a mess and he was groaning.

You sat shoulder to shoulder, comparing Pokémon teams. Kento favoured Steel and Fighting types in a balanced, well-prepared team with no weak links. You favoured Ghost types and anything cute, in a weird mismatched set-up that surprised your enemies. With your short cable connecting your GameBoys, you sat thigh to thigh. You hadn't noticed your toes scrunching against Kento's, foot, stroking your skin against his. You felt him shiver and tense.

"What-- what are you doing?" Kento asked, his voice catching in his throat. His chest felt tight. His whole being zeroed in on where your skin stroked his. You caught yourself, and curled your toes away, to Kento's disappointment. "It-- it's okay...you don't have to stop." Your games were ignored now, defunct in distracted hands.

You swallowed, the air thick with tension around you. He was so close, you could smell the residue of his cologne, and the natural masculine smell of him, earthy beneath freshly washed skin. The side of your breast, bare beneath your t-shirt, rested against his bicep. You felt his bicep clench, grazing your nipple. He felt the pebbled snag of your nipple against his arm. He knew he'd combust if he didn't feel your skin on his soon; knew his fragile resolve was breaking.

Your foot cautiously stretched back down, the sensitive skin of your toes stroking against the top of Kento's foot. You felt him shiver again, putting his GameBoy down with a grunt, his eyebrows drawn together with am arm over his eyes.

"Do you...like it when I touch you?"

Kento grumbled under his breath, his mouth twisted in faint derision. "Don't be cruel." You blushed, reaching out for his hand. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing the back of your hand to his twitching thigh, and trailing featherlight fingertips over your palm and inner wrist, an erogenous zone you never knew you had until he elicited a shudder from you.

"See." Kento whispered, lightly stroking the spot on your inner arm that connected curiously to your clit and nipples, a fine gold thread of liquid arousal. "You like it, too. So if you don't mean anything by this, just stop. Don't...don't play games with me." He took his fingers away, and you almost whimpered, chasing his touch, begging.

"No, Kento, wait-- please...don't stop."

Kento short-circuited. He had never been so close to the fabled pleasure of anothers' body. Pornography had little impact for one without the flesh-memory of erotic touch. Kento's cock was thick, now, throbbing. You dropped your head to his shoulder, sighing with bliss as his trembling fingers resumed their butterfly kisses to your wrist. The growing tent in his pyjamas, and the way he spread his thighs aside to accommodate his erection, made your mouth water.

Kento shifted, his body moving on instinct, until he was tentatively leaning over you. He wanted to watch your face as he stroked your wrist, examining its fine little tendons and veins, and examining how you arched, your mouth parted, your t-shirt rucking up until he could see the warm squidge of your belly above your underwear. His voice was husky, thoughtful.

"You'd...you'd stop me, right? If you didn't want this?"

"Yeah, I...yeah. But I-- I don't want you to. I want m--"

Kenti bowed his head to drink the unfinished words off your lips, knowing you wanted more just as much as he did. He grunted against the taste of you, his lips shuddering and uncertain, only hoping his sincerity came through. Kissing him back hard, your lips and tongues clashed, both instinctual, hungry, tasting. You and Kento spurred each other on, your mutual desperation rising exponentially with each nip of the lips, each tongue thrust into each others' mouth, each moan snatched and devoured between kisses.

Your hands sunk into each others' hair, ruffling, teasing, pulling, and you whimpered into Kento's mouth at the massage of his fingertips over your scalp. You were drunk. You had to be drunk, so high off the spontaneity of a moment you thought would be planned to a T.

Kento's mouth wandered, pressing and sucking sharp little lovebites into you on his way down your neck. You had ended up tangled around him, beneath him, the tip of his cock almost escaping beneath his waistband. Riding on buckish young urgency, Kento's broad hand had risen to grope your breast, possessive, trembling against the urge to squeeze you too hard. When you whimpered, arching into his touch, his mind flew back to him, shocked and ashamed by his stunning lack of self-control.

"Sorry," Kento gasped, his mouth and hand flying off you as if burnt, "fuck, sorry, 'msosorry--"

He broke off at the sight of you. Strewn, your hair scrunched against the pillow, with love-swollen lips and roses blooming on your neck, you were serene; for him. Thrown like petals onto the sheets, all for him and his mouth and his hands. Kento felt the fog descend again, dampening his judgement, for the instinctual urge to fuck.

"Have you...have you ever..." You felt Kento's meaning. His voice was rough, deep as the valley, and hewn with stone. You shook your head, still supple and dopey from his attentions. Kento's held breath released in one husky groan. He swallowed, shaking his head down at you.

"No, I...me neither. Always wondered, always--" Always what? Always daydreamed about it almost constantly? Always chastised himself for being such a fucking animal? But, the look in your eyes as you drank him in. Kento and you met on that clouded bridge, in the middle. Your pussy ached with promise.

Kento's hand came to settle slowly on your breast again, delighted by the way you pressed into him. His fingers grazed down over your nipple, reaching the hem of your shirt, brushing upwards.

"I can...can I? Please?"

"Please. Please, yes please, god."

"Fuck...I can't...cant believe it-- finally--" Kento didn't seem to realise he was moaning his inner thoughts aloud, rucking your t-shirt up like unwrapping a gift. As your breast freed, Kento shuddered again, slanted brown eyes scrutinising your body with analytical intent, committing you to memory.

His hand ghosted over your tummy, tracing dimples and stretch marks on the way, before curling around your breast, giving the gentlest of squeezes. The noise that left his mouth was somewhere between a cough and a moan. Still possessed by a haze of need, his mouth dipped down, tongue flicking out over your nipple, before capturing it with his mouth as you arched again, keening. He pressed into your arch, one arm planted above your head, the opposite hand rolling your other breast between keen fingers.

He couldn't help but rock the straining underside of his cock against your barely-covered pussy. The material between you was so thin, you could feel the whole length of him, and the tapering shape of his bulbous tip as it snagged against your clit. Kento knew he'd cum like this, if he wasn't careful, and shivered at the idea of spilling his seed all over your belly. He brushed away his hurrying peak, so determined was he that you'd cum before him.

"--keep--keep doing that...Kentoooo--oooh, feels so good--"

A rush of competitive pride burned through him. He couldn't help but murmur against your spit-slick nipple, nuzzling it with his nose.

"Keep telling me...what feels good. Make sure I'm not selfish, 'cos I--I'll just take if you don't--"

Suddenly hyperaware of your own body and how you must look, dopey and blissful as you chased pleasure by rutting his length between your legs, you stopped, and Kento huffed.

"I can hear you--thinking you look stupid-- and you don't--" He scowled down at you, his voice hoarse and strained between heavy grunts of ecstasy. "Will you cum? Like...like that?" Kento nodded down towards where you had been rolling your pussy against him. You tried to pull an arm over your eyes, blushing, extraordinarily embarrassed. Kento tangled his fingers in yours, pressing them over your head.

"Hey-- hey-- listen, I'll...I'll let you see me cum...if you let me see you. Please." You swallowed, mouth watering at the thought of watching Kento break, such sincere fascination trickling down your spine.

"...okay." You answered, uncharacteristically meek. Kento huffed another laugh.

"Good girl." You blushed from hairline to toes, involuntarily bucking up against Kento with his words. He began to rut against you again, the friction good but not quite right, not as good as it could be. You threw caution to the wind.

"Hang-- hang on, I'll just..." You reached a hand down beneath your panties, parting your labia just enough for Kento's heavy length to snag harder against your clit.

Kento's eyes zeroed in on the creamy white discharge on your fingers as you pulled your hand out, and when he continued his motions, you fell supple and needy beneath him again, groaning with the pleasure of his bulbous tip and the ridge beneath it, catching your clit. Pleasure bloomed through you, so much closer to orgasm than you had thought.

"--don't stop--" You begged, arching up towards Kento until he fucked down harder with a broken growl, his own need to cum eclipsed by your pleasure. Drawing one nipple deeper into his mouth, and lubricating the other with his spit to roll it fluidly between his fingers, Kento learned fast, playing you like an instrument until your mouth gaped in a silent cry, your first orgasm received from another, roaring through you in waves.

Kento kept humping against you, not recognising that you had reached your peak. He faltered, hips stuttering and panting as you groaned, squirming and writhing, groping at him with desperate, fucked-out hands. Kento was obsessed, a spurt of pre-cum adding to the slick he'd already made between your legs. Utterly besotted, his slim eyes wide with blown pupils, he shakily raised one hand to stroke your hair, kissing your forehead through the bliss, shushing you with whispered praise.

"--so cute...look so pretty...thank you-- thank you--"

As you came down from your high, you heard him thanking you, and laughed, trying to cover your face as he batted your hands away, playful and smirking. Biting your lip, emboldened by post-nut confidence, you slid your hand down to grip Kento's clothed, pulsing cock. He stilled above you with a grunt, looking so angry again as that feral, desperate haze descended. You begged him, hushed and soft.

"Can I...feel it?" Kento's thoughts burst with single-minded relief. He nodded, breath catching in his chest, allowing you to roll him over onto the bed until you were lying on your side beside him. You stroked his clothed length, fascinated, watching every reaction with cruel innocence.

Unsure how to handle him, you faltered as your hand began to slip inside his pyjamas. Kento had one arm slung over his face, still scowling, wanting desperately to watch you play with his cock, but too self-conscious.

"Here, I'll--" Kento reached down, shucking his pyjamas down until his cock released. Kento seemed embarrassed by his size, distinctly bigger than average, and thick, his pink tip peeking out from beneath his foreskin. Mistaking the cause of your silence for disgust, Kento grimaced behind his forearm, apologising.

"--shit, 'msorry, I know I-I'm--"

"...wow." Your breathless little gasp, followed by your hand immediately circling round Kento's cock, sent his mind blank again, watching you with dumb adoration as you examined the weight of his cock in your hand. Your hand gripped him, stroking from ball to tip with an inexperienced squeeze that had Kento grunting, gasping and bucking beneath you. It didn't matter that you had clearly never handled an erection in your life; for Kento, who had never been stroked by a woman looking at his cock and face with hungry, adoring eyes, he was being rushed towards a toe-curling orgasm.

"--st--sta--stopstopstop, m'gonna cu--m'gonna cum--'m gonna--"

Your hand stopped immediately, and Kento snarled, before gasping, momentarily shocked by his visceral reaction to being teased just to the edge of completion. Your pupils dilated, obscenely aroused by the strange danger of a furiously needy man about to cum in your hand. You were lost in the tease, lowering your head and maintaining eye contact as you threatened your lips just over the tip of Kento's cock.

"...stop?"

Kento was glazed, eyebrows tilted, looking uncharacteristically concerned, darting between your mouth, and your eyes, and back again. His nose flared with hot little pants. A barely perceptible shake of the head. You smiled, laying the flat of your tongue against the tip of Kento's cock, and licking over the bulbous head with an incoordinate pump of his length.

Kento's moan rumbled from his chest outwards, muffled as he bit into his own arm, his mind blown by the wet little sucks of his cockhead that he'd imagined only in his wettest dreams. He hurtled with breakneck speed towards his peak, finishing with frantic bucks and begs.

"--oh my--fucking g-god--huuugh fuckfuckfuck sorry m'sorry--shit--"

Kento came with an uncontrollable roar of pleasure, both arms gripping the pillow beneath his head, biceps straining, balls clenching. You pulled free of his cock with a wet pop and a little cry of surprise, when the first spurt of cum salted your tongue.

You continued to stroke him, obsessed with the jerk of him in your hand, the way he groaned, low and long, with each stripe of thick, white seed up his belly. It was only after the twitches had ceased, his cock sluggish against his belly, that Kento began to gasp like a fish out of water and gripped his hand around yours.

"--sto--sta--stop...fuck...so...sogood sosogood..."

The words left your mouth before you even thought to stop them, a years old masturbatory kink suddenly within reach. "Can you cum like that inside me?"

Kento stared at you in mute shock, his neat new haircut mussed beyond repair. His post-cum brain struggled to process your request. You frantically babbled to reassure him.

"--I--I mean no condom--and hear me out hear me out-- I've got good protection-- and and I've never and you've never so we won't catch anything--"

Kento was above you, flipping you onto your back and suckling at your neck again within seconds. You heard his oddly grown-man chastisement into your neck, while his body moved in the total opposite direction.

"So fucking irresponsible-- just just "oooooh cum inside me Kento" just like that, fuck-- do you think I'm--I'm fucking stupid? Sh...shit...fucking yes please I can't believe I'm doing this--"

Kento's cock had barely softened, graced by the barely-there refractory period of youth. He was thick, heavy, and dragging down your belly. You were just as frantic as him, kicking off your underwear and watching Kento hyperfocus again; this time, on your bare sex, right before his eyes.

He knelt back, gripping himself in his fist as if holding himself back. Feeling his sharp eyes penetrate you, you moved to close your legs. Kento looked at you as if you were mad, batting your thighs aside with his knees as you covered your face, mortified.

"Beautiful." He berated, rubbing his fingers through the cum spattered on his belly, and sinking them down to glide cautiously between your labia. You gasped, squirming, and Kento watched his fingers coat with your slick with a gulp, feeling a fresh burst of blood engorge his cock until he ached.

He leaned to his bag, rummaging and cursing, before coming back up with a bottle of lube. You shot Kento a look and he shot you a look in return, berating you again with a voice stricter than fitting for his age; "I was expecting a room of my own."

"Oh yeah? How's that working out for you?"

"Very well actually-- stop laughing or I'll--"

"...you'll what? Make me?" You asked, coy. Kento let out a strangled little groan, and pinched the bridge of his nose as you laughed.

"...don't even...dont even know what you're asking...idiot--" Kento huffed as you drew a crooked smile out of him, your joyful muffled giggles a natural balm to his baseline rage. You stilled again, breathless as you watched him stroke his pulsing cock, your throat dry with voyeuristic anticipation. Kento panted, beyond embarrassment and hanging on by a thread.

Kento stroked some lube between your puffy folds, eyes heavy as you squirmed, prodding one finger softly at your entrance. You stilled beneath him, holding your breath. Kento tangled your fingers in his.

"Breathe." He hummed, and as you released a shaking breath, Kento began to ease one slick finger inside you. Your mouth dropped open, eyes closed beneath raising eyebrows, as Kento slid his long finger into you all the way to his knuckle. He hadn't realised he was holding his breath until he felt lightheaded.

"...you...you feel...fuck, incredible, so--so tight..." Kento whispered, his voice low and gravelly, that same primal urge to fuck immediately into you threatening to cloud his brain. By the way you gazed up at him, still and supple, you would probably let him too and he could just push right in and--

"...we'll take it slow," Kento reassured you, tight and tense, "...and I'll stop straight away if...if it hurts."

Your eyelids fluttered to feel Kento's thick tip prod at your entrance, sure he wouldn't fit until he pressed forwards, and you stretched like you'd never stretched before. You bit your lip against the faint sting, nodding urgently and gripping Kento's thighs as he looked at you in concern.

Kento was lost in the moment, his eyes zeroing in on where he gradually sheathed himself inside you. He'd never felt such exquisite pleasure, obsessed by how your plush walls moulded to the shape of him, sucking him in, slick and tight. You squeaked, biting into Kento's shoulder as he bore down on you, his cock almost sunk to the hilt. He stilled as he bottomed out, his fingertips bruising on your hip, trembling with jagged groans.

You felt so strangely placid, full, and wrapping your legs around the small of Kento's back to lock him inside you. The brief sting, the belly-deep ache, left you feeling like you had made a blooming transition from girl to woman in one deep thrust. Kento drank you in, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your lips and mumbling against them.

"...'m not gonna last long." Kento was possessed, pulling out a little before rutting into you again, delighted by your gasp, determined to break more noises out of you. His usual gentle nature was becoming quickly overrun by a firm, authoritative edge, not knowing yet how this would come to define him as a man.

Kento rocked into you, shallowly at first, before gaining the confidence that he wouldn't break you. By the time he had built a rhythm, pumping into you through sweaty pants, your breaths mingling together, he felt the drag of orgasm approaching him fast. Kento's imagination could never have matched up to the reality of dragging his cock through such nectar.

Any time Kento tried to talk, he broke off into anguished pants and groans into your throat, sinking his teeth there for a moment, seemingly irritated by how sloppy he'd become.

"...j'sso...uhnfuck...wet--best thing I--...huhnnn--"

Hearing you whimper and squeak as he moved within you offered him some condolence for being a speechless mess, at least.

Though you knew you wouldn't cum from this alone, you were lost in the addictive feeling of being full and fucked into by Kento chasing an instinctual high. You couldn't help but let your fingers wander downwards, rubbing your clit beneath them. The thick pressure in your belly made your pleasure three-dimensional, so much better than your fingers alone.

Kento was a quiet lover, saying more through heated glances and lingering touches than he ever could through words. Knowing he was holding back for fear of hurting you, you whispered against his ear, sending ripples down his spine.

"--harder-- pleasepleaseplease--"

"Fffuck okay...this?" Kento sunk into you to the hilt and jabbed, urging himself deeper, earning a guttural groan as his cockhead pressed against your cervix and soft-spot. He nodded into your neck, shuddering deeply. "Th-this...yeah...oh fuck, yeah..." Your toes curled against the back of his thighs, and you sobbed with the bone-deep adoration of his kisses to your womb. Kento's restraint snapped, tilting your hips as he gripped you, holding nothing else back.

Kento sped up, driving himself inside you with total abandon, his breaths coming out as spitting curses and groans. Finally, he strained above you, his moans breaking and peaking, unable to hold off any longer;

"--gonna...gonna...cum in you for--for-fucking-ever-- nnggh--"

Watching Kento break and spill himself inside you, his cock jerking with long, painfully pleasurable contractions, was the erotic vision you had sought your whole adult life. Hurriedly working your fingers until your own high hit you, had Kento collapsing on top of you to feel your pussy clenching around him, milking him of every little drop of seed.

Kento was silent, his corded back clenching over you. You nuzzled into his ear, pressing kisses along his jaw until he gave you his lips with a groan. Pulling gently out, and replacing his cock with his fingertips so he could feel how his seed dripped from your cunt, had Kento wondering vaguely how he'd ever use a condom now he'd tasted the ripe-peach of you without a barrier.

You nipped Kento's neck, jolting him back to reality. Glossy doe-eyes glimmered up at him in the dark; and you, desperate to feel full again, completely addicted to him as he was to you.

"...again?"

"...give-- give me a minute."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Heard some strange noises coming out of your room last night."

You kept your face innocently neutral at the breakfast table the next morning. You tipped your head to the side, inquisitive, as if you didn't feel multiple thick loads of Kento's seed soaking your underwear.

"Oh?"

"Mhm." A knowing stare from the other girls at the table. Kento sat down, clearing his throat, his plate piled with what should have been an embarrassing number of pastries.

"She's really good. At Pokémon battles." You had a single moment to admire Kento's absolute gall, the other girls looking at him with vague displeasure as he continued.

"Her Gengar's really strong actually. I wasn't ready for it. I thought Machamp would be a good choice, but--"

The other girls had already lost interest, turning their conversations elsewhere. Kento looked up at you from the other end of the table as you mouthed oh my god at him. He was inscrutable, apart from his twinkling eyes.

You were fortunate that none of these girls were at your wedding, years later. But you did occasionally still refer to making love as 'Pokémon battles', if just to hear your impassive, suited, quiet man laugh.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

I am going FERAL over this imagine:

So basically Bruce brings reader home to be his new daughter/the boys' new sibling but Uh Oh! They now want you carnally and reader is just like "you said you wanted me as a daughter/sibling, wtf is this" and being their platonic darling is better than being shared between them romantically so reader tries to come off as innocent and child/sibling coded by being like "yeah I've never actually kissed or dated anyone before aren't I just so innocent" and the boys are like :)))

So then Dick says you can call him your boyfriend "just to feel it out" and Tim starts blatantly stealing your panties and Jason says he can give you your 1st kiss so you can "practice" with him and Bruce offers to teach you how to touch yourself and (and him) and when you try to walk it back cause the boys are being Freaks they're in their delulu era so eventually you end up tied to the bed with the boys and Bruce drawing straws over who gets to take what 1sts (like 1st date, kiss, virginity, ect).

And Damien is just in the background absolutely SEETHING cause the the boys and Bruce's Horny Time keeps interrupting his Mommy Time with the reader

And reader using Damien as kind of a shield cause what are they going to do, feel you up in front of a CHILD? Like just, "Stay Platonic :))"

Just that kind of pseudo incest makes me Feel Things (*/∀＼*)(///∇///)

I'd love your thoughts/a fic based on this! Ty ❤️

TW: Brief mentions of pseudo incest(y) scenarios/behavior, manipulative tactics, yandere tendencies

(Okay so I’ll answer this with my thoughts for right now.)

I know I primarily write incest(y) related topics for my Game of Thrones/ASOIAF stuff but I have been tempted to/curious about branching it out into some of the other fandoms I write for 👀. (I’ve had a few ideas rolling around in my noggin for a bit if anyone is interested.) So I would be willing to give this a try. I’m down to experiment with some new stuff, within reason of course.

I imagine the Reader being older (probably 19-23), maybe even having been a runaway of sorts or not having a very stable home life, so when they’re given the ‘offer’ to become part of the family they’re looking to fulfill a familial void they’ve never experienced or have forgotten how it’s felt like. I definitely see Bruce and the rest of the boys keeping a very close eye on the Reader before they decide to finally bring them into their family, basically full on stalking them from the moment they caught their attention (you know how the Batfam works). It wouldn’t be a surprise if even before the Reader was with them physically that the boys developed a more carnal desire for them. At first, their intentions were completely platonic, but with all the lengthy observing and information gathering of their supposed-to-be-new-family-member eventually something changed in how they all saw their darling.

I really see the change in their obsession starting with either Dick or Tim first. Especially regarding some accidental or purposeful peeping Tom foolery. I feel like Bruce would be the last to fall victim to the change in direction or at the very least he’s the last one to admit to it. If Damian is younger than I see his obsession staying strictly platonic, but if he were much older than I could see him involving himself to the same depths as his family.

At first, I see things happening subtly. Knowing that at the very least a few of them are already in an obsessive-romantic headspace in regards to their darling before they even physically become part of the family the guys would try to be as welcoming as possible without revealing their true intentions. They don’t want to scare you off right away, they want you to walk into it semi-willingly at least. But the interactions with the Reader would show something else. The lingering touches, the being much closer to you than really necessary, the heated grazes over your clothes here and there that leave you wondering if that actually happened or not. I also kind of like the other members not being fully aware of each other’s change in obsession, everyone giving each other the side eye until it sets in and then all out war of who gets the darling to themself unfolds only to eventually end up with them working together and agreeing to share. That’s when Bruce’s heel-turn is revealed.

Once things get truly amped up, the interactions with the Reader really begin to escalate. The boys would walk around shirtless more often, all of them trying to get their darling to look at them, to really look at them. Eventually, it’s not just them being shitless but either them in nothing but their underwear or nothing at all. They start out as accidents but eventually it’s pretty loud and clear that the guys want you to see them, all of them, to even touch them and feel them to your hearts content. But thats not all, of course it’s not. The touching of their darling only gets all the more intense, to the point that you know damn well that they’re touching you and they want to leave you wanting for more. So much more. The Reader’s innocence and lack of experience would only spur them on even more. They absolutely thrive off of it. They all want to be your first, your first everything. There will be a lot of secret ‘lessons’ being given behind closed doors and telling of “Don’t tell Batdaddy or he’ll get real mad.” “Don’t let Jay know, or he’ll want to punish you for not doing this with him.” “Let this be our secret, (Name). Something just for you and me.” “Can’t tell anyone about this or they’ll ruin it for the both of us.” And they only get even worse from there.

I can’t see Alfred being okay with this in any situation, whatsoever. I think he especially would feel like Bruce and the other boys completely took advantage of the Reader and he would try his best to aid them in trying to keep up with the platonic intention of this entire fiasco. He would be a total cockblock, even going as far as helping Damian in his cockblocking endeavors. Alfred’s intention would be to play both sides so he knows how to help the Reader when it comes to Bruce and the others but it wouldn’t take too long for them to figure out that Alfred is working against them. Like, Alfred was all for the familial-platonic obsession but when things started getting more romantic he was ready to shut that shit down ASAP. You can’t tell me he hasn��t, at least a few times, locked Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim out of the house to give the Reader some peace and give Damian his much deserved allotted time with them.

Speaking of Damian, he is a menace (as per usual) but even more so than normal. He really doesn’t take too well to the new direction of his father’s and brothers’ obsession for the Reader. He thinks it’s pretty messed up but he sincerely likes and cares about the Reader and he wants them to stay, he wants them to continue being a part of the family forever so he’ll let some things slide. Some. He even may be willing to look the other way when it eventually comes to Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim baby-trapping the Reader if it means this whole ‘family’ thing becomes set in stone with the arrival of a new ‘sibling’. But for the most part, at least early on, Damian would be a huge pain in the ass for the other family members. He feels like he needs to step in to save his darling from the others and their ulterior motives. He’s all his parental/older sibling figure needs, at least at that point. He may even try to runaway with them to keep them safe from the others. Hell, he may even get his mother involved if he was desperate enough, especially if he saw the Reader as a parental figure. Or maybe even another Justice League member to either adopt him and the Reader so that he could have that family experience he was promised with the Reader. Or he would be completely content just living the rest of his life just him and the Reader, platonically of course.

It would either take Bruce or Dick to have a talk with Damian to get him to come to some agreement to allow them to continue with what they’re doing in regards to the Reader. I think Dick would get away with manipulating Damian much better than Bruce could. I think Damian would have some opinions about his father especially throughout this whole situation. Especially since I see Damian being very observant of how Dick, Jason and Tim are behaving towards the Reader early on and picking up on the fuckery taking place, even going as far as telling Bruce about it under the belief his father would be on his side (not ever fathoming the idea of his father also doing similar things to the Reader without him ever knowing). As far as Damian knew his father was completely platonic towards the Reader, as a ‘father’ should be. Right? So understandably Damian feels not only betrayed but also disgusted when he finds out that his father was and still is taking part in, acting in a similarly depraved fashion as the others.

Eventually, I could see them coming together and being one big ‘happy’ family. But it sure as hell comes at a price. (Usually the Reader’s freedom and sense of self outside of the obsession they’ve been dragged into, to drown in alongside their yandere(s).)

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #19

"I hate it here! It's cold and wet—I hate being locked in the basement!"

Your captor hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his chin as you stumbled over your words, your anger making it hard to form sentences. It's only been a few days since you've been kidnapped and taken to an unfamiliar place, locked in a dark basement, and ogled at your captor's pleasure. But you were fed up with this treatment!

"The food tastes like shit, and I keep feeling bugs and spiders crawl over me! It's enough! I don't know what I did to you, but this has to end, please!"

Tears were dripping from your eyes, your voice cracking as you were overcome with emotions. You reached up to wipe them away, but they were quickly replaced with more, your eyes unleashing the floodgates without you having any say.

"I'm scared; I want to go home," you whimpered, and you heard your captor sigh, his steps coming closer. You flinched hard when you felt his arms wrap around your body, pulling you close. In stark contrast to you, he smelled pleasant—someone seemed to have the opportunity to shower.

You felt crazy when you buried your face in his chest, accepting the hug, relieved that he wasn't touching you inappropriately. He was also warm, so damn warm! Everything about this made you angry, but all you could do was continue crying into his shirt, spitefully hoping it would stain.

How could someone be so cruel yet treat you so kindly, his hand rubbing up and down your back comfortingly? He didn't push you away, no matter how much you must have stunk after days without showering, and he gently brushed out the knots in your hair while he let you cry your frustrations into his chest.

"There, there," he mumbled calmly as the tears began to dry out, and you wanted to kick him in the shin now that he was close enough to hurt him like he had hurt you. But it also felt like a childish rebuke, even though he deserved it.

"You can come upstairs with me. There's heating, and we can cook your favorite meal. Also, I have a TV and books waiting for you."

His sudden suggestion surprised you. You opened your mouth to agree but luckily stopped yourself in time, so you didn't agree blindly right away. There must be a catch if he suddenly offered you this change of scenery after being so dismissive and cold towards your complaints before. You already knew he was up to no good, so could this perhaps be another trick?

"Can I really?" you asked, carefully probing at the possibility of leaving this horrible basement. Going into detail on how he mistreated you and how you deserved at least that mucht might just upset him again, and who-knows-what would happen if he was the one to get angry. It didn't help the feeling of submitting to him and his whims, but you liked the idea of at least not being isolated down here anymore.

Your captor pushed you away slightly, and you looked up at him, noticing the faint grin playing on his lips in the dim light of the basement. He looked at you with the madness of a movie killer, but his touch remained gentle, and his eyes even softened when he looked at you.

"Of course. I hate seeing you unhappy. I told you I'm doing all of this for you, didn't I? If you feel ready to accept me the same way I do you, we can finally be a family, hang out, and talk. I'd love to show you the new bed I got for us, it's so nice and comfy, and I'll buy you all the things you always wanted but couldn't! That is, of course, as long as you behave appropriately. Would hate to have to send you back down here."

That wasn't what you wanted at all! Sure, going up there inevitably meant you'd see more of him, but you never intended to play house with this man! "What if... I don't want that?" you asked hesitantly, noticing his grip tensing tightly around you.

"Maybe it's too early still..." he muttered, disappointment dripping like venom audible in every word. "You still don't know what is good for you."

With that, he let go of you, walking away with a sour look on his face and stomping up the staircase as if he was a spoiled brat whose fun got ruined.

"W-Wait!" you called out, running towards the end of the staircase, your ankle chain rattling as you stretched it out full. To your surprise, he stopped, looking back over his shoulder condensendingly. "You'll buy me everything I want? Can't we just start there, maybe try to make this basement less... icky?"

"Oh?" he hummed, turning around and leaning against the railing. And what's in it for me? Are you going to treat me to something I want if I do that for you? My offer was already quite generous. Aren't you going to give me something for your demands?"

"What... would you like?"

Another thoughtful hum escaped him as he thought briefly. Not long enough to make you believe he hadn't considered this before, but in this negotiation, you'd always draw the short straw, so it didn't really matter. Your captor walked back down two steps, standing just out of reach.

"I'll get my phone, and then you'll sit on my lap—you can't get up until I tell you to—while we order three things you want. You stay in this basement until they are delivered, and then you have to fulfill a wish of mine in exchange for each of the items. So, three wishes in total."

You gulped. Honestly, it sounded almost worse than playing house with this crazed bastard, especially with him grinning smugly as he talked about the wishes. You wanted to inquire more, get all the details but he cut you off, wagging his finger at you as if he knew what you were going to ask.

"Ah-ah," he chuckled, "It's a surprise! But you can choose: Come upstairs with me or earn yourself some comfort down here. Of course, you can also stay in the basement indefinitely without comfort, but you should stop complaining when I have given you so many options, or I might just get angry with you."

Chewing on your lip, you thought for a moment, his grin widening as he watched you contemplate your options. Of course he'd find enjoyment in your struggles—that was just the kind of psycho he was.

(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 19 | End

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: Triggering conversation. Character died.

Words Count: 5,588

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

When life seems perfect, it often hides a test—a calm before the storm. For Steve, months after Peggy’s death, everything felt whole, secure. His presidency was steady, bolstered by approval from the public and respect from allies. Policies were sailing through Congress, his popularity was soaring, and his vision for the country was unfolding exactly as planned.

But something gnawed at him, an intuition sharpened by years in the military. A storm was coming—he could feel it.

“Mr. President,” Natasha’s voice cut through his thoughts as she entered the office with a stack of documents in her arms.

“Yes, Natasha?”

She placed a folder on his desk. “Here’s the speech draft for the press conference announcing your engagement to Miss Hazel,” she said, her tone carefully neutral. “If anything… goes south after the announcement.”

Steve took the folder, scanning the first page with a furrowed brow. He plans to introduce Hazel and Nate to the world. The public would need time to adjust to the news, and if the backlash was harsh, he’d be ready with a statement that cast Hazel in a sympathetic light.

“Thank you,” he replied, placing the folder aside.

Just then, the door burst open. An aide stumbled in, looking flushed and frantic. “Mr. President, I’m sorry to interrupt, but you need to see this immediately.” He thrust a tablet onto the desk, his hands shaking slightly as he pressed play.

A news anchor appeared on the screen, her voice grim and insistent. “Breaking news on an international scandal that could shake the nation. Our sources have uncovered what they’re calling ‘Deals in the Dark: Inside the Global Conspiracy Threatening Economic Stability.’”

The words "Steve Rogers" flashed across the screen, and the anchor continued, "Our investigation has linked these troubling deals directly to the highest office in the land.”

Steve’s face blanched. His name—his reputation—was being dragged through the mud in front of the entire country. Rage flared within him as he looked up, his jaw tight. “Get the Vice President in here. Now.”

A tense silence settled over the room as they waited. Moments later, Bucky entered, his expression carefully controlled, his eyes meeting Steve’s with a flash of concern.

“Close the door,” Steve ordered, his voice low and taut.

As the door clicked shut, Bucky stood before him, the weight of the situation hanging between them like a loaded gun. Steve’s hand curled into a fist, his voice barely a whisper but laced with fury. “Did you know about this?”

Bucky looked down, drawing a steadying breath, then met Steve’s piercing gaze. “I knew her was digging into things after her friend died, but… I didn’t know it would go this far.” He clenched his jaw. “I didn’t realize how deep she’d go—or how reckless she’d become.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, a vein throbbing in his temple. “So you’re telling me you had no idea?”

“No, I didn’t,” Bucky admitted, his voice weighted with regret. “And I’m sorry, Steve. I’ll make this right. If you need a name to take the fall�� blame me. I’ll shoulder this.”

Steve looked at him, surprised. Here was his Vice President—his friend—willing to sacrifice himself to protect him. It would be so easy to accept the offer, to let Bucky take the brunt of the fallout. It would keep Steve’s image intact, and Bucky could be quietly replaced.

But the advantage of having Bucky loyal by his side was too great. “No,” Steve replied, shaking his head. “This wasn’t your doing. And I need you here, not buried under this scandal.”

Bucky stepped forward, his gaze steady. “It’s alright, Steve. I haven’t done much lately as Vice President anyway. Let me take this on. We’re a team, aren’t we? Your problems are mine.”

Steve paused, looking at him, his anger tempered by the loyalty in Bucky’s eyes. “You’d take this for me?”

“Without hesitation,” Bucky replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Steve exhaled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. He extended a hand, and Bucky took it, their grips strong, but their shared look even stronger. Then, in a rare moment of mutual trust, Steve pulled him into a fierce, brotherly embrace.

“Thank you, Bucky,” he murmured, his voice softened with unspoken gratitude.

As they pulled back, Bucky’s expression was resolute. “Whatever’s coming,” he said, his voice low, “we’re facing it together.”

Steve nodded, his mind racing with strategy and resolve. The scandal might be a blow, but with Bucky at his side, he felt fortified, ready to weather the storm—no matter how dark it threatened to become.

���🌸🌸🌸🌸

With Bucky's promise still fresh in the air, Steve watched as his vice president worked hard to keep issues from flaring up. Bucky stood tall, his confidence showing as he spoke to reporters and citizens, assuring them that their concerns were being handled. But underneath, Steve could sense the tension in Bucky—his jaw tightened, and worry flickered in his eyes whenever new problems popped up.

Each time one issue seemed to fade, another arose, and it always seemed to lead back to you.

As Steve stood in the Oval Office, the weight of the scandals crashing down around him felt almost suffocating. Illegal domestic surveillance, military manipulation, a nuclear program scandal, and Stark Industries' data misuse—all of it traced back to you. The walls felt like they were closing in as he realized you were the mastermind behind this revelation. Even Bucky was oblivious to the full extent of the details.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady the rising tide of anger and betrayal, and faced you across the room. The tension hung heavy in the air, electric and dangerous. “When will you stop?” he demanded, his voice low and filled with barely restrained fury. “This is not only hurting me but also Bucky.”

You met his gaze, unflinching, your own anger simmering just below the surface. “Come and kill me, you crazy sociopath,” you shot back, your voice dripping with defiance.

Steve took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “If you keep doing this, you’ll ruin the future of Nate’s life,” he warned, his tone now tinged with a desperate edge.

“I knew you have a soft spot for him. And I appreciate it,” he sneered. “But imagine him being branded with the image of being the illegitimate child, with his father as the most evil president in history.”

Steve’s jaw tightened. “Or you could choose this one: he’ll find out who I really am. Instead of shame, he’ll be proud to be the son of the president.”

“You fucking psycho,” you spat, taking a step back, putting space between you and the weight of your shared history. “Using your own son as your shield.”

Steve shook his head, disbelief mingling with a simmering rage. “You hate me because I killed your friend. Sure, I understand that. But if he were still alive, your husband and I probably couldn’t win the election.”

As the two of you locked eyes, the atmosphere crackled with tension—a brutal dance of hurt and anger, intertwined with a strange sense of familiarity. Steve’s breath quickened, the realization dawning on him that the battle wasn’t just external; it was deeply personal, and it threatened to consume them both.

“Everything is about paying back. Everyone in here knows everyone’s secrets.” Steve's voice was cold, his jaw clenched tightly as he glared at you, the tension in the air crackling like electricity. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, as if holding back the urge to lash out.

"I hate people like you—the idealistic type," Steve said, his voice low and simmering with frustration. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he locked onto yours, the tension in the air palpable. "If you get rid of me, there will only be another just like me."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

After talking to Steve, you returned home, your heart still racing with the weight of the conversation. As you stepped through the door, you saw Bucky waiting for you, his expression unreadable. The moment you locked eyes, tension filled the room.

"You’re just a puppet for Steve," you spat, your voice dripping with disdain. "I’m so ashamed of you."

Bucky's face hardened, his jaw clenched tightly as he stepped closer, his frustration boiling over. "You don’t understand anything! I’m doing what I have to do," he shot back, his tone sharp and defensive.

“Doing what you have to do?” you scoffed, your hands trembling with anger. “You’re covering up Ian’s death! You’re a coward for letting this happen!” Your words hung heavy in the air, each accusation striking a nerve as you paced back and forth, unable to contain your rage.

Bucky’s eyes flashed with a mix of hurt and anger. “You think it’s that simple? It’s not just about me! I have to protect what’s left of this place, even if it means making sacrifices!” He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in the way his fingers curled into his scalp.

You shook your head, refusing to back down. “Sacrifices? You mean sacrificing your integrity? You’ve lost yourself to this game, Bucky! I can’t believe you let Steve manipulate you like this.”

Unbeknownst to both of you, your heated argument was being overheard. Natasha listened intently from the hidden bug that had been planted in the room, her brow furrowed with concern as she glanced at Steve. “Both of them are fighting. Bucky sounds surprised,” she informed him, her tone serious.

Steve leaned back in his chair, a slight smirk forming on his lips. “Good,” he replied, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. He relished the chaos unfolding, knowing that conflict could lead to clarity, both for Bucky and for you. The storm brewing between you two was exactly what he needed.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Even though there was turmoil at home, everything had to keep going. Bucky had to accompany Steve to attend the parade. The parade was a vibrant spectacle, a sea of red, white, and blue, with flags fluttering in the crisp air. Cheerful crowds lined the streets, waving banners and chanting the names of their leaders, their excitement palpable.

"Mr. President! Mr. President!" they roared, their voices a chorus of admiration for Steve Rogers, who stood tall and confident, a smile breaking across his face as he waved back. The warmth of the people's adoration radiated around him, but as the crowd's energy surged, the atmosphere felt electric, almost frenetic.

Beside him, Bucky Barnes maintained a more stoic demeanor. Though he wore the badge of Vice President, the cheers seemed to pass over him, fewer and far between. He appreciated the excitement but felt a twinge of disappointment that the cheers weren't for him. He turned to Steve, his brow furrowing slightly, and remarked dryly, "You know, I thought they would be a bit more enthusiastic about me."

Steve had brought Bucky here to entertain him because he knew about the problems between Bucky and you. You're wild and couldn't be tamed.

Steve chuckled, eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned closer, "Put a leash on your wife, or she'll embarrass this country." His laughter rang out, mingling with the cheers of the crowd, but Bucky's gaze drifted past him, scanning the parade route.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, a hint of agreement in his voice, but his eyes were still fixed on the crowd. There was a tension in the air that he couldn’t quite place.

Steve turned to Bucky, his brow slightly furrowed with concern. "How is she?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Bucky crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his jaw clenched as he replied, "I told her to be quieter."

“Good,” Steve said, his expression softening a bit. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing, "I’m planning to have Hazel by my side."

Bucky's eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face. "What?" he exclaimed, his posture tensing as he processed the implications of Steve’s words.

"I knew you’d know," Steve said, a hint of regret creeping into his tone. He stepped closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "And I’m sorry. But I promise you, I will give Hazel and Nate the best future."

Bucky fell silent, the weight of Steve’s promise hanging in the air between them. He looked away for a moment, his thoughts racing, before finally nodding, a mix of resignation and reluctant acceptance etched on his face.

Steve smiled, relief washing over him as he saw Bucky's reaction. There was a sense of camaraderie in the moment, a silent understanding forged in the midst of tension. But as Bucky looked at Steve, his eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty, hinting at the underlying conflict that still simmered just beneath the surface.

"I'm so glad to have you as my partner," Steve continued, sincerity evident in his tone. "May we work together until we die."

"Until we die," Bucky murmured, his voice almost lost in the surrounding commotion.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the noise, calling out, "Barnes!" A hand waved from the throng, the first time anyone had shouted his name that day. Bucky glanced at the person but didn’t respond with a wave like Steve did. Instead, he gave a subtle nod, a flicker of acknowledgment that felt more calculated than celebratory.

In that instant, chaos erupted. "KYAAA!!!"

A sharp crack rang out, slicing through the jubilant atmosphere. Bucky staggered as if struck by a physical blow, his eyes widening in shock.

The cheers turned into gasps of disbelief, and screams erupted as the crowd reacted in panic, some dropping to the ground, others frantically searching for cover. The Secret Service sprang into action, "Protect the Vice-President!", a wall of suits forming around Bucky as people pushed back in terror, the once-cheerful parade transformed into a scene of horror.

"Bucky!" Steve shouted, rushing forward, his heart pounding as he reached his partner's side. The world around him blurred, and all he could focus on was Bucky, crumpling to the ground.

Everyone was shouting, the air thick with fear and confusion, but all Steve heard was the ragged sound of his own breathing and the desperate cry of his friend. "Bucky!" he repeated, urgency lacing his tone.

Bucky's breath came in ragged gasps, his body sprawled on the pavement. The color drained from his face as he struggled to lift his hand, feeling the warmth of blood seeping through his fingers. With a surge of effort, he grasped Steve's arm, pulling him closer, anchoring himself to his partner even as the life slipped away from him. "All hail the President," he managed, his voice weak but resolute.

Steve's expression shifted from shock to horror, his body taut with the weight of impending dread. Bucky's grip tightened, holding him in place as if preventing him from moving, creating a storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm them both. "Bucky, stay with me," he urged, desperation lacing his tone.

Bucky locked eyes with Steve, seeing the fear reflected there. A strange calm washed over him as he whispered, "As Nate's father, this is my gift for you."

Then, without warning, a searing pain tore through Steve’s chest, a sharp shot of agony that rooted him to the spot. The world blurred around him as he struggled to comprehend what was happening, realizing in that instant that he was the true target.

Steve felt the impact before he could process the meaning behind Bucky’s words. The world around them seemed to slow as the realization of betrayal hit him. He caught a glimpse of Bucky's fading form, and in that moment, a twisted smirk crept across his lips. "Well played," he murmured, before the darkness consumed him, and he dropped to the ground.

Bucky’s grip slackened, the warmth of his hand slipping away. Bucky’s body went limp, and as everything turned dark around him, Steve felt his own strength faltering.

That day, which was meant to be a celebration, turned into a day of mourning. Two main leaders of the country were injured, and no one knew who was behind the attack. With the most important figures in the nation harmed, it felt like an embarrassment for a country that prided itself on its strength.

Both parties in the government reached a silent agreement to keep the situation under wraps and portray Steve as a hero.

The news headlines that would follow would echo through history: “The President Dies Protecting the Vice President.” It would be a legacy of sacrifice, a testament to their bond. Steve Rogers would forever be remembered as the only president who lost his life protecting another, a tragedy that would resonate for generations.

Everyone would remember him as a good symbol, sacrificing himself for someone, without recalling the darker aspects of his actions. This was the last gift Bucky gave to him.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

2 days later

Bucky's eyes fluttered open, the sterile brightness of the hospital room piercing through the haze of his coma. As his surroundings came into focus, the first thing he saw was you, your face streaked with tears, a mixture of relief and anger etched across your features.

You rushed to his side, gripping his arm tightly, your voice trembling with emotion. "You idiot! What kind of plan was that? Risking your life?"

Bucky's brow furrowed slightly as he tried to process your words, his voice hoarse but steady. "Didn't I tell you? I will accept it if you hurt me."

Both of you pretended to fight to keep Steve from suspecting anything. He knew how much Bucky loved you, and with the two of you constantly bickering, he wouldn't notice that someone else had hired an assassin.

It was Caroline. She was the one who hired the sniper to take Steve's life. Don’t mess with a mother—or a woman like her.

Bucky getting shot first was all part of the plan. Caroline’s intention was to take out Steve, but Bucky warned her that he would also become a suspect if that happened.

Instead, he proposed that he get hurt first, diverting everyone’s attention to him, allowing Steve to be vulnerable next.

It was a risky plan—an idiotic one, really. But Bucky insisted, determined to see it through despite the danger that loomed over them all.

A deep sigh escaped your lips, a blend of frustration and relief washing over you. You leaned against his chest, resting your head there, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. In that moment, everything else faded away—the anger, the fear—and all that mattered was that he was alive.

Risking his life was necessary to make his plan work. He didn't want the past six years of his efforts to go to waste.

The past six years had been exhausting for Bucky Barnes. He had immersed himself in the treacherous waters of politics, drawn in by the intoxicating taste of power that left a lingering sweetness on his tongue.

He quickly realized that understanding the law was not merely a tool; it was a weapon. Knowledge of loopholes became his advantage, a means to navigate the convoluted game of governance. But knowing the rules wasn’t enough; he needed to be ruthless. That was where Steve Rogers came into the picture—his mentor, a family friend for years, whose facade of integrity masked a far more sinister reality.

In Bucky’s eyes, Steve had always been perfect, a paragon of virtue. But as time wore on, the veneer began to crack, revealing the monstrous truth lurking beneath.

Steve was a predator cloaked in a hero’s guise. His charming smile belied a voracious greed that left a bloody trail in its wake. It was a shock to discover that Steve had been having an affair with Hazel, and now he was the father of Nate, the child whose very existence felt like a dagger to Bucky’s heart.

This betrayal was too much to bear. Bucky’s hatred for the man he once idolized simmered just below the surface, boiling over as he considered how to dismantle the carefully constructed empire Steve had built. Bucky knew the rules; he understood the political landscape better than most. But how could he bring down someone so deeply entrenched in the system?

Despite all his advantages, Steve believed he was the master of this game. No, he wasn’t. Bucky’s confidence swelled as he acknowledged that Steve’s skills—his war experience, his tactical mind—would ultimately falter against the true currency of politics. In this brutal arena, the real gold was connections and money. Behind every politician lurked unseen puppet masters pulling the strings, and Steve was no exception.

Bucky knew that while Steve had forged connections, he lacked the pedigree that defined the upper echelons of power. Steve had been a nobody until Peggy Carter had invited him into their circle, and that was when they made a monumental mistake—choosing Steve. He might have had his allies, but he would never be blue blood like Bucky and Peggy.

Then there was Peggy. The last straw. Bucky’s heart twisted as he recalled the circumstances of her death. He was all too aware that it had been Steve's machinations that had ultimately led to her demise. Bucky had witnessed the toll it took on her, the way she had struggled under the weight of her decisions, her life unraveling in the shadow of Steve's ambition. Bucky’s hands tightened into fists at the memory.

Caroline had been the voice of caution, her words echoing in his mind: “This is why you never bite the hand that feeds you.”

She may not have been a good mother, but she had been a loyal friend to Peggy, always protecting her interests, ensuring that her secrets remained buried. Bucky could see how easily Caroline could hire an assassin, how she moved through the shadows like a whisper, orchestrating the chaos without ever getting her hands dirty.

He never thought you and Caroline would join forces to rid the world of Steve. With each passing day, Bucky felt the walls closing in, the weight of the decisions he had to make pressing down on him like a vice. Steve would fall; it was only a matter of time.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bucky stood in the Oval Office, a resolute figure beside the iconic Resolute Desk, a Bible open in front of him. The room was thick with anticipation, everyone watching him intently as he prepared to deliver his vow. His posture was firm, shoulders squared, as he looked around at the faces of his colleagues and allies, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He glanced at the words on the page, drawing strength from their meaning as he readied himself to speak.

With a steady voice, he began, "I stand before you today, not just as your president, but as a servant of the people. I vow to uphold the Constitution, to protect the rights of every citizen, and to work tirelessly for the betterment of our nation. Together, we will fight against corruption and ensure that government truly serves the people. I promise to lead with integrity, to listen to your voices, and to bring about the change we so desperately need."

You stood behind him, pride swelling in your chest as you witnessed Bucky fulfill his promise to become president.

Behind you sat Caroline and Julius, the latter in his wheelchair, their expressions a mix of hope and admiration. Bucky’s oldest brother, Shawn, had called to congratulate him, his voice brimming with encouragement. Your brother Tim stood nearby, a smile on his face, reflecting the joy that filled the room. At the back, Hazel lingered, her posture tense and withdrawn, reluctant to stand close to her family.

As the applause began and everyone congratulated Bucky and you, Natasha approached Hazel, who stood near the corner as if she wanted to hide.

Perhaps she was too embarrassed to be there. Before, she had come to the White House as Steve's mistress, and everyone knew who she was but kept their mouths shut. This time, she was here only as Bucky's sister. “I have something for you,” Natasha said, extending an envelope toward her.

Hazel hesitated, her brows furrowing in confusion. “For me?” she asked, glancing from the letter to Natasha, unsure of what to expect.

Natasha nodded, a subtle smile breaking through her serious exterior. “Yes, it’s from Steve.” With that, she stepped back to take her position.

Hazel’s fingers trembled slightly as she took the letter, the weight of it heavy in her hand. As she opened it, memories flooded back, and she felt a rush of emotions. It was a final message from Steve, words that resonated with her deeply.

The atmosphere in the room shifted as Hazel read the heartfelt letter, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Hazel,

If you’re reading this, it means I’m probably no longer living. And that's okay; I've come to accept it. The world I’ve inhabited has been fraught with danger, and I’ve made choices that have led me here.

Hazel, from the moment I met you, it felt like looking into a mirror—a reflection of my own heart and soul. You brought warmth and light into my life, even when I was lost in darkness. Your strength has always amazed me, and I want you to carry that with you as you move forward.

Live the life you’ve always wanted. I’ve made arrangements for you and Nate, ensuring you both have the financial support you need to thrive.

Please, for our Nate, support him and listen to him. He will need you more than ever now, and I have every confidence in your ability to guide him.

If there is a next life, I hope we never meet again. You deserve someone better than me. Now that I’m gone, please try to forget me and the mistakes I made. I genuinely wish you and Nate nothing but the best.

Steve Rogers

P.S. Don’t worry about the twins. They’ve been independent since they were young and have the Carters to guide them. They’ll be okay."

Tears fell onto the letter as Hazel finished reading it.

“Mom?” Nate's small voice broke through her moment of grief.

Hazel looked down at her son, the last legacy of Steve, and quickly wiped her tears away. “Do you want to visit Uncle Steve?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Nate nodded enthusiastically, his bright eyes shining with admiration. “Yes! He’s a hero for saving Uncle Bucky!”

Hazel flinched at the mention of Bucky, but she forced a smile, wanting to be strong for her son. She knelt down to his level and took his small hands in hers, feeling the warmth of his tiny fingers. With her other hand, she clutched the letter written by Steve, a reminder of his love and hopes for her.

Together, they held hands as they walked, Hazel’s heart swelling with determination. Just as Steve had wished, she would live life to the fullest and be a great mother to Nate.

After Hazel and Nate left, Natasha approached Bucky with a serious expression. “Both of them have left,” she informed him.

Bucky turned to her, his demeanor cool and composed, devoid of any trace of warmth. “She read the letter?” he asked, his voice steady and flat.

“Yes,” Natasha replied, nodding her head.

“Did she believe it?” Bucky pressed, his gaze sharp and focused.

“I hired a professional to copy Steve's signature, and I added a bit of his perfume to the paper,” Natasha explained, her tone measured and confident.

“Good.” Bucky’s expression remained impassive, his eyes betraying no emotion. He had written the letter himself, crafting it to sound like it came from Steve. His intention was clear: he wanted Hazel to move on from Steve, to find a new path without the shadows of the past weighing her down. This was necessary for her future, and he understood the sacrifices it took to ensure that.

“Good job.” Bucky looked at Natasha again, and she nodded in acknowledgment.

It was a curious alliance—how could a loyal supporter of Steve choose to work with Bucky? The answer lay in humanity. Natasha had pledged her loyalty to Steve because he saved her from the chaos of war when she had no one to turn to. In her eyes, he was a hero, and she had turned a blind eye and deaf ear to his misdeeds, including the affair with Hazel.

But everything changed when she witnessed the heartlessness Steve displayed toward Peggy. The righteous man she once admired had morphed into a monster, and her faith in him shattered. With Steve’s death, Natasha reevaluated her principles and decided to align herself with Bucky.

Bucky brought her on board because he recognized her skills and capabilities. He needed people like Natasha—sharp, resourceful, and fiercely dedicated. But he also understood the value of loyalty and did not intend to take it for granted. Their partnership was strategic, grounded in the shared goal of reshaping the political landscape, and Bucky was determined to build a team that could challenge the corruption that had long plagued their world.

“Have you got everything you need?” your voice pulled him away from his thoughts.

“Yes,” he replied, a smile breaking through his usual stoicism as he took your hand in his.

As you both walked through the grand halls of the White House, the sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting a warm glow on the polished floors. Bucky’s grip on your hand was firm, steady, a reassuring anchor in the midst of the political storm surrounding him.

Bucky had his share of greed, but he loathed those who didn’t know their limits. Among those were his so-called friends, Edgar and Brock. Together with Steve, they formed a trio of self-serving opportunists, always proclaiming their actions were “for the people” while their true motivations were purely selfish—“for me, me, and me.”

What set Bucky apart from Steve, Edgar, and Brock was his ambition to dismantle the very system they thrived in. He wanted to rid politics of corrupt individuals like them, who masqueraded their greed as altruism. Bucky had seen too much of the damage they had inflicted on the community, and he was determined to be the catalyst for change. He refused to become like them.

To clean up the government, he knew he had to start with this corrupt trio. It was a slow and grueling process, requiring patience and strategy, but Bucky was committed to the fight. He would work behind the scenes, gathering evidence, building alliances, and slowly dismantling their influence. It was exhausting, but he was relentless.

His ultimate goal extended beyond simply removing them from power. He envisioned a government rebuilt on integrity, one that truly served the interests of the people rather than the egos of a few. The road ahead was fraught with challenges, but he was willing to face them head-on. Every step he took toward exposing the trio brought him closer to realizing his vision of a more just and equitable political landscape.

As Bucky navigated the murky waters of politics, he felt the weight of his mission pressing down on him. He was no longer just a pawn in the game; he was a player with a purpose. This time, he wouldn’t be silenced. He was determined to take the fight to them, fueled by a deep resolve to expose their hypocrisy and restore honor to a system long tainted by greed.

But alongside you, he realized something important: for an imperfect couple, you both made a perfect team. As you walked together, side by side, it felt like you were crossing a finish line, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Each step was a testament to your shared commitment—a bond forged in trust and understanding, built on the ashes of past mistakes.

You glanced up at him, and in that moment, you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that ignited whenever he believed in something. Together, you were more than just individuals; you were partners united in a common cause, ready to fight for a better future. In the complicated world of power and betrayal, your partnership was a beacon of hope, lighting the way toward justice and change.

-The End-

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who followed this series until the end. This story has its flaws, but I truly appreciate your support and dedication. It was incredibly difficult for me to wrap up this journey and say goodbye to Bucky and his fierce ex-wife. Writing a tale that intertwines politics with romance has been both a challenging and rewarding experience. I've learned so much about character development and the complexities of relationships, and I'm grateful to have shared this journey with all of you. Your feedback and encouragement have meant the world to me.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

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[somerunner]

In my high school, all you needed to get a varsity letter in cross country was, I think, to get under 19 minutes on a 5K. Most of the varsity letter requirements for other sports were similarly easy to meet. Our school wasn't known for athletics.

My first race was a little under 22 minutes long, and every year I struggled to get my time lower than 19:50.

My senior year, I had hit puberty, so I had more strength and cardiovascular fitness than before. I figured I would make it this time, and I trained as optimally as I could. I followed the coaches' directions more closely (my brother and I were once told that, given our fitness, we should never run slower than 9 minutes a mile for an easy run; it took until senior year for me to actually follow that advice). I ate well, slept...probably poorly, and I felt pretty fit compared to previous years. My dad bought me and my brothers Garmin Forerunners, which are GPS watches that can tell you your pace in the middle of a race. He came to as many of our races as he could all throughout high school, and our mom did too (she came to our middle school races in addition to high school ones -- it was no fault of our dad's, not to come to our middle school races; I find it impressive and touching that he made it to almost all of my high school ones. In middle school it was always some random distance so we never really had a consistent distance to truly compete against ourselves with. High school had bigger teams and each race always right around five kilometers, with one notable exception).

The watches helped a lot. (I still have mine from back then, but it struggles to hold a charge for a full run unless you've kept it in the charger until the minute you go running. I don't use it quite as much; I've misplaced my charger too often, and I don't want to look for it a day in advance just so my watch can tell me my strides per minute (arguably important, but I digress). I can't pace myself any better than in high school, but I don't need to because there's no exact season or race I'm training for -- though for something big, like a marathon, I will actually use the watch. My phone can record my pace for less-important runs.)

Anyway. Back to the point. I hadn't broken 19 minutes my whole senior year, and we were down to one last race. I was anxious the whole last week. The last three days, I could practically feel adrenaline seeping into every capillary like I was a sponge. It felt good, unsurprisingly to me (though that may be surprising to you). I felt ready.

The last meet was big, full of schools. I'd just learned from my dad (either that day, or just before some other race in the past week or two) that the "strides," or short almost-sprints you do a few minutes before a race, are actually important -- they prime your body for that first 100-meter dash where you stake your position for the next mile. If you don't do your strides, you'll dip into anaerobic metabolism early, and your legs might be locked up halfway through the race, and that's bye-bye sub-19:00.

I felt like I weighed like nothing. My entire body was a spring. Side note: if you've never put on racing flats/spikes, I encourage you to borrow a pair for a short run (and I mean short! Like 100 meters if you don't run, and a mile or two if you do run). It feels like there's a weightless force field on your foot, with how light it is compared to a normal shoe. It's a surreal feeling.

When we started the race, I felt a touch desperate. I ran only a little slower than my best; you're supposed to hold yourself back for the first mile. I knew that, but I glanced at my watch to see that I was averaging a 5:00/mile pace. That was WAY beyond my target pace, and I barely even noticed. That was heartening to see, but I obviously dialed the pace way, way back to 5:45/mile or something. I needed this record-breaking adrenaline to last me for three miles, not half of one.

Frankly, all I remember of that race was that first 200-meter dash and the disconnect between what I felt and what I saw on my watch. I always have that disconnect during a race, but it was especially pronounced during this race.

The next two miles were hard but good, and I broke 19. I got a massive personal record (PR) to end my high school career with; I think it was more than a minute of improved time. Which is rather insane. Improvement tends to be more incremental than that, but things like this do happen pretty often in running, especially at the relatively slow paces I ran at.

My brother broke 19 and 18 in the same race. Just skipped right over the whole 18-minutes-something-seconds window. I was over the moon for him, of course. We'd both made it past the lettering-qualification by the skin of our teeth, and at the same time, by a huge margin.

He's kept up with consistent running more than I have. He's also gotten me back into running after I semi-gave up on it, and our older brother's gotten back into running too. We, along with our dad, decided to run a marathon/half-marathon together this summer. I'd say we all did well, though I didn't train as much for it as I should have.

I've only ran one marathon so far, and it was recent, but now I'm feeling the itch. I want to run another one, I want to absolutely demolish my time. Admittedly, this is partially because I didn't practice as much as I should have, and I've seen my brothers' times, so I know how much farther I can go.

If you've come close to your (previous) best at something, you might have realized too that it was only a false summit. Could be a project within your hobby, could be a physical accomplishment, it could be anything that requires some level of effort large or small. But I hope, when you realized you could do even better than you just did, that it felt inspiring.

It's kind of a rush.

[writingoddess1125]

Love at an Execution

Part of Gomez and Morticia Effect Series!

Masterlist <<<

Come on- Press Me.. You want to do it

• You and Mihawk met when you were both 19, fresh faced and standing in Loguetown to watch the execution of Gol D Rogers

• You had been standing there, close to the execution as you looked up at the fallen hero. Seeing how he laughed at the face of his death and inspired a new wave of pirates before your eyes.

• It was Beautiful

�� As the spears pierced Roger's side you watch closely, still laughing as be left the world and Garp eyes of panic at the rush of new pirates created before his eyes.

• You'd stood there longer then most, almost everyone flooding from the courtyard to the open ocean to venture to find the One Piece. However you knew it was best to wait-

• After you saw the Marines begin to take Roger's Body you glanced back to see the courtyard deserted besides one other person-

• A dark haired teenager who was staring at you hard with deep yellow eyes.

• You couldn't help but smile at the dark haired male, watching his expression change slightly in surprise at seeing a pretty girl smile at him at a execution of all places-

• He was Hooked right then.

- Mihawk walked over toward you, his eyes never leaving yours once as he cleared the space that kept you two apart and stood before you. As if soaking you in like a lizard basking in the sun.

"..Awfully calm for a women who Saw someone die-" He said calmly, watching you closely as you smiled up at him.

"You say that like it's a bad thing" You say with ease, making the teenager blink at you for a few moments before suddently holding his hand out for a stiff handshake.

"Mihawk- Dracule Mihawk"

Taking his hand into your own you give a far more gentle shake of his large hands, which were oddly sweaty?

"(Y/N) (Y/N),(L,N)"

• Since that day, You and Mihawk ventured together.

• At first strictly as new Pirates out to make a name, However Teenage Hormones and lonely nights made that rather short lived-

• What most would assume was strictly a physical benefit you two got from each other, soon turned into something deeper.

• Love

• Many years going on like this, slaying down others as the race to the One Peice came into full swing- Of course you supported Mihawks drive to be the greatest swordsman, as he supported your own desires.

• A Match made in heaven for you two- While for others it was more akin of two demons becoming one.

- Shanks looked to Mihawk, seated next to each other as both been felt the buzz of alcohol in their systems, having met up to drink and exchange important information. You joyfully laughing with a few of the crewmates of the Red Hair Pirates as well recounting a recent adventure.

"You know Hawkeye~ Most would think your are growing soft for her" The Ginger said with a laugh as he patted Mihawks arm.

"Soft isn't the word I'd use.. But it's not wrong either"

Shanks looked surprised by this admitting from the formally stoic man as he raised an eyebrow to his friend to continue.

"I'd follow her to the end of the world and possibly after-"

Mihawk bringing his pint back to his lips as he stared at you, a smirk on his lips.

"I'd die for her. I'd kill for her-"

Mihawk went on, Watching how you turned to him and smiled as you held your own drink up to him as a cheers. Of course returning the gesture as Shanks watched and listened to his friend closely now.

"Either way, What Bliss"

• At the age of 27 you both got Married

• A drunken affair that lasted 4 days on your island.

• All black and simple in truth- Almost elegant compared to the Muggy Island Ruins you hosted the event at.

• However it was everything you could ask for.

• You wearing a all black and red gown to match that of Mihawk, who had been dressed to the nines as well.

• Shanks had acted as the Officiant, before a group of your guys friends and peers sat to witness the joining of you and Mihawk.

• Two simple gold rings decorating your fingers as before them all you kissed.

• Crates of blood red wine practically drowned the island that you and Mihawk now shared together-

- You stumbled to the dark colored beach of your new home, a almost empty bottle of wine in your hands as you took a seat on one of the peices of rubble. Looking over the now dark sky and wide oceans before you-

You adjusting Mihawks hat on your head since it started to slip from your drunken sway, having been wearing it for the fast few hours while you got shir faced. Your toes digging into the sand; your heels had long since been lost somewhere during the party. Hearing the stumming of music echoing behind you and the sound of others drunkenly dancing adding nice background to the crashing waves.

"There you are Dragă~"

A unsteady voice sounded behind you, turning to see Mihawk there- his shirt unbuttoned all the way and untucked from his trousers, also bare foot as he swayed with the breeze tossing the empty wine bottle behind him to be picked up later as he silently burped. The man paused for a moment after his burp like he was battling his body to not vomit. Before stumbling next to you, You sliding over to invite him to take a seat.

Mihawk plopped down and wrapping his arm around you pulling you close to him, his lips finding their way to your neck making you giggle. He makes it up to your face and pauses right before your lips, his unsteady eyes looking you over.

"You're breath smells-"

"So does yours-"

You manage out as Mihawk met your face now, your noses touching each other's before both of you busted out in drunken giggles and exchange a few poorly placed kisses.

Leaning into each other fully now to keep upright as you both laugh at almost nothing.

"So, how does it feel to officially be my Wife?" He asked as he held you close, You thinking for a moment.

"The same I did yesterday but drunk" Your words earning a laugh from Mihawk, him moving to almost stand and kneel infront of you.

"Now we can't have that, So what would make this day feel like no other My Wife?"

"Hmmm maybe cresting the beach?" You say with a cheeky smile as Mihawk took his shirt off almost immediately throwing it to go knows where and gave a wide smile.

"Thought you'd never ask~"

[brynn-lear]

a/n: I won't be writing a oneshot about this since I already have a yan!capitano fic series I'm committing to, but I might randomly post about this idea more every now and then lol. tagging this AU as #the captain and his duchess

Yandere noble!Capitano who couldn't stop asking Fem Tutor!Darling to spar with him. With the weight of his inheritance, █████ must strive to be as great— if not greater— of a Captain like his father, the Duke.

But before he gained his infamous strength, you were his beloved mentor. You were a prodigy in swordsmanship with high confidence to boot. Hence, you gleefully accepted the Duke's request to tutor his eldest son. Coming from a minor noble household with only a title to uphold and not much else to boast, it's only natural to grasp unto that opportunity. It just so happened you've been clearing off competitions, and the duke has a good eye. Your parents, bless their souls, wouldn't dissuade you from your decision. Pride meant nothing when there's not even food scraps on the table. With a heart that still bleeds for the misfortune of those around you, you set off on horseback alone.

Whoever it was you were expecting to teach, it certainly wasn't a terrified noble hiding behind a helmet. Young █████ was not to blame. He carries the same dignified moral compass as his house, but he was ill-prepared to talk to people other than his family and servants. In fact, you couldn't get a word out of him as soon as you're done assessing his skill level with a first match.

Much to be desired, but the foundation is there.

... Perhaps you were too harsh with your phrasing.

"Young master," you shook your head, knocking on his door. "I couldn't teach you if you scamper about- hiding like meek prey in the closest room you'd burrow yourself in."

█████ didn't made a sound. You sighed. Truthfully, you wondered if you had done something to offend. It couldn't possibly be due to fear of authority. You're 21 and he's 19, not to mention that he is to be future sovereign Duke of Snezhnaya while you're not even reserved a seat in the council.

"F-Forgive him, Lady (Y/n)!" Elena squeaked. "He's not usually like this. I believe this is because..."

You raised an eyebrow. "Because...?"

The maid hurriedly shook her head, heat crawling up her neck. "N-No, I mustn't say. As a servant, I would step out of line."

"I'm pretty good at keeping secrets, you know?" You grinned. Skillfully, you placed a hand on the wall, leaning closer as if cornering her. You tucked the few stray strands of her hair behind her ear. "I'm not from this House, I wouldn't scold you for a little bit of sin."

She looked extremely offended. Suppose you should've expected that much from the most honorable Harbinger House's staff.

"I'm inclined to believe that this young maid's hypothesis requires no detective to solve."

You both looked to the direction of the voice. It was Prince Zandik, cousin to █████ and heir to the throne. Though to both of you, you are his most favorite gladiator and he is your best sponsor.

"Greetings, Zandik. You appear just about anywhere, huh? Are you sure you're not pulling my leg about the secret twin rumors?"

"Not one for tact, as always. But that's just how I like you, Lady (Y/n)."

Elena looked at you incredulously, wondering just where on earth did you find the audacity to refer to the Prince without proper decorum. Zandik doesn't seem sensitive to your lack of sensibility. You and Zandik have been friends since childhood was never a secret, but those who would recently find this resurfacing fact never fail to act surprised.

"I'd ask you why you're here, but the answer would be dull and overly verbose." You feigned a yawn, which made Zandik chuckle. "So, instead, why don't you tell me what you know about this █████ situation? Does he fear women?"

Zandik schooled his expression, but you can almost just about hear him say that's your best guess?

"█████ has never been one for sublime subtlety." Zandik rolled his eyes. "He admires you greatly, couldn't you tell?"

"Me? And greatly?" You scoffed. "Please, he'd outpace me with just a few lessons.

Zandik laughed. You both knew that to be true, but the future isn't quite as close to that prediction.

"Since the day I discreetly snatched him from his quarters to observe one of your sparring sessions, he has maintained a keen interest in tracking your career." The Prince remarked. "Do you recall the first bouquet of roses you've received?"

"I wasn't meant to be the recipient, do not reopen old wounds." You cringed. It was an unfortunate mistake from the messenger.

"Forgive me, I meant the second bouquet you received." He crossed his arms. "One from a secret admirer who curtly explained how he couldn't bear to see the sadness from your face and made it his honorable responsibility to buy you a larger bouquet."

You blinked.

"N-No way. I'm pretty sure that's from, um, my father."

"Buy you the most expensive bouquet in Snezhnaya? With what money?"

... A cruel but fair point.

"He even dons the same headwear as you do— the helmet he would rarely take off, did you not find it identical to your own?"

You paused.

... Wait a second.

"Well, I shall remove myself from this conversation. I have dull and overly verbose matters to attend to."

"Zandik, halt!"

[mochinomnoms]

Omg that’s so funny. Like the boys ask you to hold smth for them really quick and you put it in your boobs 😭😭😭

Azul would put you to good use and give you his random little trinkets he carries around

Malleus would be fascinated with how you figured you could hold all that

Leona would start putting his hand in them as a pocket to heat him up 💀💀

-🌑

YEAH TITTY POCKETS quick snippet before I go to bed:

Riddle was walking past the cafeteria when he noticed a small crowd forming around the table that the Prefect, Grim, Ace, and Deuce would normally sit at. A sense of dread filled him as he approached, positive that one of his freshmen was up to some trouble again.

So imagine his surprise when he walks up and sees a bunch of students, from various years and dorms, surrounding you as they handed you items. Imagine his even bigger shock when you, making direct eye contact with Riddle, smile at him as you take a small notepad from a random hand and stuff it into your breasts.

It takes a moment for him to realize that you've undone your tie and unbutton your shirt to reveal a healthy amount of cleavage, the hem of your white lacy (Oh heavens, he thinks it's lace, wait why is he looking!?) peeking at him.

“Oh, hey Riddle—”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? YOUR SHIRT—DID YOU JUST—GAH!” Riddle launched himself over the crowd to clutch your shirt and tug it closed, face in his signature red.

“Hey! What's the big deal!” Riddle whipped his head over to see Ruggie pouting, holding a handful of granola bars.

“I was gonna see how many granola bars they could fit—”

“This is utterly indecent! Why are you allowing this Prefect? What even led up to this?!”

“Oh!” You perked up, grabbing and gently pushing his arms off you. “I was telling Ace and Deuce how I can fit up to 19 items into my boobs for storage, 10 if they're bigger. 3 if they're really big though, like a cell phone!”

He stared at you with confusion, flushing again as he saw you take three bars from Ruggie, adjust your…boobs, and start sliding the items in. As if this was a normal thing.

“Why are you acting like this is normal?”

“…. Because it is? Riddle, as someone with titties,” you ignored his scandalized gasp. “I gotta take advantage. These girls may hurt my back, but they also make excellent pockets. Look!”

You took a potion bottle from a different hand, smoothly sliding your hand down the side of your right breast. Taking a moment to adjust again, you stood up with your hands on your hips, looking proud.

“Look at my boobs and tell me how many items I have in them. Right now!”

Riddle gasped, “I will not, that is so, so, so indecent—”

“10!”

“25!”

“8!”

You snapped your fingers at a random Ignihyde student, grinning as you shouted, “Correct! You get a prize, lemme just—”

You took a moment to dig through your bra, as Riddle listened in to the students around him make comments.

“Is it wrong to find this hot?”

“Dude, why can't I have boob pockets?”

“Oh my goooood, am I into this? I think I'm into this.”

“That's actually kinda useful, not gonna lie.”

You cried out triumphantly, holding out a lollipop and handing it over to the Ignihyde student, who shrugged and accepted the candy.

“See Riddle? Useful, you can ask me to carry anything you want—”

“I will do NO such thing!” He scoffed, crossing his arms indigently, “I am a self-respecting housewarden of Night Raven College, and I'm offended at the implications that I'd do such a thing with your... you know.”

He gestured as Azul casually walked up, the crowd parting for him and the twins.

“Hello, my dear Prefect, can you hand me the spare punch cards I gave you? We ran out faster than anticipated this week.”

“Oh yeah, here” You dug through your left breast, taking out a small bundle of Mostro Lounge punch cards. “I ended up giving out a few to some guys, so expect a few new customers this weekend”

Azul smiled and nodded at you, taking the cards from your hand.

“That's fine, thank you, Prefect. I come by again later to grab the rest of my items.”

“Okie! See ya, byeee!”

You waved him goodbye, turning back to Riddle, who, once again, looked at you scandalously.

“… What?”

[umseb]

The Day Sebastian Vettel Decided To Retire From F1 — Then Annoyed Aston Bosses With Climate Campaign

Two years ago, Sebastian Vettel decided to bring an end to his glittering F1 career, so picked up the phone to Matt Bishop, then Aston Martin comms boss. He details the ensuing scramble and Vettel's increasing determination to speak out

Just over two years ago, on Wednesday July 27, 2022, I was forced to do something that I really hate doing: at the eleventh hour I had to cancel a long-standing dinner arrangement with my husband and two of our dearest friends, who live in New York and were on holiday in London for a week. The reason was that, at 5 pm that afternoon, I received a phone call from Sebastian Vettel telling me that he had decided to announce his retirement from Formula 1 in the Hungarian Grand Prix paddock the following day. I was Aston Martin's chief communications officer at the time, and, when something as big as that is sprung on a Formula 1 team's most senior comms/PR operative, he or she has to drop everything and focus on briefing colleagues in confidence, writing press releases, planning social media content, arranging press conferences, and formulating comms/PR strategies designed to optimise the management of a tricky news narrative that in this case would surely unfold rapidly, and perhaps also trickily, over the next 24, 48, 72, and 96 hours. I have written above that Vettel had "sprung" his decision on me, but, although the imminence of his announcement was a surprise, its content was not. Four months earlier you will recall that he did not travel to Jeddah for the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, since he was recovering from a bout of Covid-19. His place was taken by Nico Hülkenberg, who, despite race-rustiness caused by his not having competed in F1 the previous year, did a typically excellent job.

Seb had made no secret of his disapproval of the Saudi regime when we had all gone there the first time, in December 2021, and, not surprisingly, in March 2022 rumours soon began to spread to the effect that he had invented a Covid-19 diagnosis so as to avoid racing there a second time. The truth was that he had indeed had Covid-19, and that he was indeed still unwell; however, was he disappointed to have had to skip the 2022 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix? No, he was not. Two weeks later, in Melbourne, he was back. On the Thursday before the Australian Grand Prix, in the Albert Park paddock, I gave him his comms/PR briefing, as was my habit on the Thursday before every grand prix. We discussed media matters of moment, including his not having raced in Jeddah. "The truth is that I was ill, honestly," he said, "but I admit that I don't like or approve of the country, so if I was going to have to miss a race because of Covid-19 that's probably the one I'd want to miss." He paused, smiled, and added, "I'm pretty sure I'm never going to race there again." Then and there I realised that 2022 would probably be his final season as an F1 driver. Not only was the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix going to be a fixture on the F1 calendar for years to come, but also one of Aston Martin's principal sponsors was Aramco, Saudi Arabia's state-owned national oil company. Missing that particular race without a 24-carat excuse would henceforth therefore be impossible for any Aston Martin driver. So, axiomatically, it followed that the only way he could make sure that he would never have to race there again would be to retire from F1 at the end of the year.

On the morning of Thursday, July 28, 2022, having worked until 3 am the night before, my comms/PR team and I issued a video in which our much loved four-time world champion announced his F1 retirement in his own words, and he posted it on his then brand-new Instagram channel at the same time. It included the following sentences, which he spoke with his usual eloquence: "I love this sport but, as much as there's life on track, there's also life off track. Being a racing driver has never been my sole identity. I want to be a great father and a great husband. I believe in change, and progress, and that every little bit you do can make a difference. We all have the same rights, no matter where we come from, what we look like, or whom we love. I'm an optimist and I believe that people are good, but, in addition, I feel that we live in very difficult times. How we shape the next few years will determine the rest of our lives. Talk is not enough. We can't afford to wait. I believe that there's still a race to win." The race to which he was referring was his growing and accelerating commitment to doing whatever he could to leverage his fame and popularity for the good of the inhabitants of planet Earth. That may sound grandiose, but it is also entirely valid. In the two years during which I worked with him, 2021 and 2022, we won awards for the inspirational way in which he did just that.

Just before the 2021 Styrian Grand Prix, helped by local schoolchildren, he created an F1 car-shaped 'bee hotel' at the Red Bull Ring. Three weeks later, straight after the British Grand Prix, in which he had raced hard for forty laps until his Aston Martin's Mercedes engine had terminally overheated, he led a group of volunteer litter-pickers to clear the Silverstone grandstands of the trash that irresponsible spectators had left behind. A month after that, in Hungary, infuriated by that country's new anti-LGBTQ+ legislation, he wore rainbow-coloured sneakers in the F1 paddock, and he donned a similarly hued T-shirt bearing the legend #SameLove as he took the knee on the grid before the race. Throughout the weekend he had talked to journalists and TV crews intelligently, thoughtfully, and compassionately on the subject of LGBTQ+ rights, equality, and inclusion. In May 2022 he visited and spoke inspirationally at HMP (Her, or now His, Majesty's Prison) Feltham, a young offenders institution in a suburb of west London, formally opening a new workshop in which the teenage inmates could learn how to become car mechanics as part of their rehabilitation. Immediately afterwards he and I took a South Western Railways train to London's Waterloo Station, sitting among regular commuters, so that he could spend time with the pupils of Oasis Johanna Primary School, which is in a disadvantaged part of inner London, and after that we went by Uber taxi to a church in Hackney, in the East End, where the BBC's prestigious political television talk show Question Time would be filmed. As the TV cameras rolled, he conversed fluently on the subjects of Brexit, the UK's cost of living crisis, the then-Prime Minister Boris Johnson's 'partygate' shenanigans, and even Finland's desire to join NATO, consummately out-arguing one of his fellow panellists, Suella Braverman, who was then the Attorney General for England and Wales and the Advocate General for Northern Ireland.

In addition, as the months went by, he continued to speak out in support of what he saw as humankind's collective global responsibility to address the climate crisis, doing so with increasing regularity, vehemence, and fearlessness, with the result that he began to irritate the very most senior people at Aston Martin, even though what he said tended to please most journalists and fans. "I don’t care," he said when he learned of his big bosses' disquiet. "I must do what's right." Behind the scenes what he did was perhaps even more admirable. F1 teams receive communications from troubled people all the time. You try to do what you can to help them, but sometimes their difficulties are of the type that human kindness alone cannot resolve. I am thinking of recently bereaved people, terminally ill people, profoundly disabled people, people with debilitating mental health issues, etc. Sometimes all you can do is send them a team cap signed by a driver. It is not much, and it breaks your heart that you cannot do more, but it is better than nothing.

Yet Vettel always tried to do more. On one occasion, I had been contacted by a young man who was deeply depressed. I told Seb about him, and he said, "Let's do a Zoom call with him." So I arranged it. I had thought that Seb might speak for five minutes or so, but no. He chatted animatedly for more than twenty minutes, with touching humility and heart-warming empathy, and I feel confident when I say that those twenty-odd minutes were significant in expediting the lad's mental and emotional recovery. A few months later, Seb hand-wrote the boy a four page letter. He gave it to me at a grand prix-I cannot remember which one-and he instructed me to post it on when I returned to the UK. I read it before I did so, and the tenderness and beauty of Seb's prose brought me to tears. There are many other examples of his remarkable generosity and sensitivity: too many to mention, in fact. This column has been about Vettel the man, not Vettel the driver. He was fast and clever in the cockpit, and I may well write about that side of him one day. I could write much more about Vettel the man, too, for I have dozens of stories that I could tell on that subject, because I worked very closely with him for two years and, more importantly, because he is a truly great man. In my long career I am lucky enough to have spent time in F1 teams with four world champions-Seb, Lewis Hamilton, Fernando Alonso, and Jenson Button-and they are all fantastic guys in their own, very different, ways. But, in my 61 years on this planet, I can state with confident and emphatic certainty that Sebastian Vettel, from the small town of Heppenheim, south-west Germany, is one of the most impressive people whom I have ever had the pleasure and honour to know, whether that be inside or outside F1. As he is fond of saying, "You can't always be the best, but you can always do your best." As a maxim to live by, it is hard to beat.

article by matt bishop

[reunionatdawn]

My Analysis of the Best Paired Endings in 3H (Part 19: AM Sylvain/Felix)

Sylvain: I hate Crests, you know. They mess everything up in life, the future, everything… Just because I have a Crest, I'm treated as the heir, and my older brother nearly killed me because of jealousy. Bitches... they swarm to me, no, to my blood, like ants... Mercedes: …I'm sorry. Did I remind you of something you didn't want to remember? Sylvain: …Sorry, I slipped. Ah, damn, I didn't mean to show such a pathetic side… Mercedes: …No, I'm glad. It feels like I saw your true face for the first time.

The localization watered down, omitted, or completely rewrote a lot of the more interesting gender-related dialogue. In his Japanese B-Support with Mercedes, the word Sylvain used for women was "女ども" (onnadomo). This term is derogatory. It is used to refer to females in a demeaning manner and carries a tone of contempt or disdain. It is considered offensive and is avoided in polite conversation. A comparable word in English might be "bitches" or "wenches."

Sylvain: …Oh, what's up, Professor? Haha, sorry, didn't notice you at all. We've been meeting quite often lately. Oh, could it be that you're interested in me? (Female Byleth): ...Just kidding, it's a joke. Please don't make such an obvious disgusted face. (Male Byleth): Sorry, my arms are reserved for girls only! I'd prefer not to lend them to bastards.

The localization also changed some lines in Sylvain's B-Support with Byleth pretty significantly. If you are playing as Male Byleth, he refers to males as "野郎" (yarou). It's an informal term that is somewhat similar to "guy" or "dude" in English, but it's more derogatory. It's a gendered insult and it suggests that the person being referred to is undesirable or contemptible in some way. It implies qualities like rudeness, roughness, or unpleasantness. It is also considered offensive and impolite, and it's generally not used in polite contexts.

Sylvain: My brother was always a truly irredeemable bastard. Selfish, conceited, and arrogant. I've always had to clean up after him…even after he died. But, thinking about it, if my brother, not me, had been born with the Crest… Would I have become like my brother, or would there have been a different fate for me…?

"Yarou" is often translated as "bastard". In Hopes, if you take Sylvain on an expedition and ask about his likes, he says it's talking to girls. If you ask what he dislikes, he says it's being surrounded by guys, and he uses the same term. And he often used it when referring to guys in general, such as during teatime. I think he was even more of a misandrist than a misogynist, and it's a shame that wasn't as apparent in English because it's pretty integral to his character.

Sylvain: If someone is in trouble, you help them. That's what a knight, no, what a human being does. Whether it's a cute girl or a rugged big guy, it's the same thing. Ashe: …！ Sylvain: Hey, don't give me that look. Are you falling for me? Unfortunately… Ashe: What are you talking about? …I'm just a little surprised.

Even though Sylvain disliked most women, he still vastly preferred their company over men. In their B-Support, he saved Ashe's life, and Ashe came to thank him (quite similar to Sylvain's A-Support with Felix, actually). And he basically told Ashe "no homo". In the localization of their C-Support, he asked Dimitri to come to town together with him to pick up girls. But in the Japanese, he simply encouraged him to invite girls out to dinner on his own.

Sylvain: Hey, Professor. If you're free, wanna go out to the town together? (Female Byleth): I found a place with delicious food. I thought I had no choice but to invite you, Professor! (Male Byleth): In search of unseen beauties… No. Just kidding. Please don't give me that look.

While there are plenty of hints that Sylvain is bisexual, I think it makes perfect sense that he can't end up with Male Byleth or any other male character except for one. He had a VERY specific type. I don't even think Female Byleth was truly his type. But ya know, self-insert.

Sylvain: Dorothea, Hilda, Mercedes… Lady Rhea is also quite the beauty. Ah, the Officer's Academy is great, Professor. Beauties everywhere you turn! Haha!

So, what was his type? Well, he tells you on the first day of school who he was interested in. Three girly girls and Lady Rhea, who represents the Mother Goddess archetype, the embodiment of the divine feminine principle.

Sylvain: Professor, have you seen Felix? He's always disappearing when you take your eyes off him. Byleth: I saw him at the training ground. Sylvain: Well, I thought it might be something like that. Sorry, Professor. Thanks for your help! Taking care of horses, you know, it's quite soothing. They repay trust with trust. Sigh… In that regard, dealing with girls is quite tricky.

Sylvain liked damsels in distress he could swoop in and help. He thought Hilda was cute until he learned that her "delicate flower" act was insincere. And he was attracted to Dorothea, whom he compared to a beautiful flower in bloom, until he suspected she had an ulterior motive.

Yuri: Oh, is this what they call mutual affection? I'm up for a rendezvous anytime… But next time, could you use better lines than when we first met? That was terrible! "Hello, young lady, delicate as a little bird! Would you care to chat a bit over there…" Sylvain: Oh, come on, I already apologized plenty for mistaking you for a girl! How many times do I have to say it! Yuri: I didn't really need an apology, you know. Look at this face; there are plenty who make that mistake. In fact, I even think I should have conversed with you, even if I had to pretend to be a woman. There's nothing wrong with maintaining a relationship with the future Margrave, right? Sylvain: What an enthusiastic pick-up line… I can't help but feel strange myself.

What mattered to Sylvain was whether his brain registered someone as a girl. He tried to woo a crossdresser at a harvest festival. And the pick-up line he used on Yuri was changed in the localization. He called him "delicate as a little bird" in Japanese. And he was not turned off by the idea of Yuri pretending to be a woman with him.

Sylvain: ...Sorry. Well, I understand, but it seems my mind was refusing to comprehend... Certainly, you... I mean, you're a woman. Yes, a lovely young lady, indeed. Oh no, I've been rude. I'm terribly sorry, miss. Leonie: What's with that tone... Sylvain: I really am sorry. This is a first for me, too. Even if Leonie is ro… I mean, even if she's an active girl, something like this… Leonie: You were about to say "rough", right!?

He knew Leonie was a girl, but his mind just didn't see her as a one. He used the word"粗雑" (sozatsu). It means "rough" or "crude". Later, he compared her to a sunflower, rather than a delicate flower.

Sylvain: It might also be one of the knights… Oh, wait, me!? Ingrid: I'll hit you. Sylvain: W-wait, I was just kidding! I'm against violence! Being too rough ruins a beauty, you know! ………… Uh, well. I-I mean, when I say "beauty," I'm not talking about flirting or anything, yeah!

In his A+ Support with Ingrid, the Japanese word he used was "乱暴" (ranbou). It means "rough" or "violent" in English.

Sylvain: I'm weary from the nonstop battles. A gentle and beautiful young lady who can heal my troubled heart, I wonder if she’s lying around out there somewhere… (Best Answer): She might appear someday.

Even his notes to the advice box suggested that his ideal partner was a "Yamato Nadeshiko". The term describes the "flower of Japanese womanhood" or "traditional daughter of Japan". It's a nostalgic term for the perfect woman under the ideology of Japanese patriarchal society. Sylvain adored traditional femininity and wanted a partner who was the epitome of feminine beauty.

Sylvain: To be honest, I left home without telling my father, even though the country was in a difficult situation. Haha, I can imagine my father's angry face. "That idiot son of mine…" Haha, scary, scary…

But it was not because he was interested in upholding patriarchy. In fact, it he hated patriarchy and did not have a good relationship with the men in his life. His father was known as the "Wall of Ice". Matthias only cared about whether he had a Crest and could wield the Lance of Ruin. He didn't have much regard for his son's life and wanted him to take out a group of bandits by himself to earn his inheritance.

Ingrid: As you know, Sylvain and I have known each other since we were children. In the past, he often had bruises and other injuries on his face and body. Every time I asked, he would say he got them during training, but still…

And growing up, Sylvain was regularly beaten by his older brother.

Dimitri: Who's naïve and serious…? Besides, compared to you, most men are probably the same. Sylvain: Oh, really? A man who gives a dagger as a gift to a girl he likes is quite… Dimitri: How many years ago was that story? …If I seriously slap your head, will you forget about it? Sylvain: If I were hit with that monstrous strength, I'd die… It doesn't sound like a joke.

His Japanese voice acting during his C-Support with Dimitri conveyed a lot more distress than the English version did. Because of how overly serious Dimitri was, and his history of being abused, he genuinely could not tell that he was just joking about hitting him.

Sylvain: Ah, damn it… Joining the Empire… I wonder what Father would say… And then there's His Highness… He's definitely furious, right? That guy, when he's angry, he's downright terrifying… I wonder how I'll be killed… Just imagining it makes my legs tremble. However… it's your decision. I'll follow you…until the end. Haha, I wonder what's gotten into me. I should be scared out of my mind… and yet…

If you recruit Sylvain into CF, you'll learn that he was terrified of Dimitri's anger. He was a childhood friend, but he was never as close to him as he was to Ingrid and Felix. Dimitri was, after all, the future patriarch of the Kingdom with superhuman strength. Which would be kind of intimidating to an abuse victim. In CF, he calls Dimitri a stubborn "yarou". While he is on good terms with him in AM after his boar phase, he doesn't even have an A-Support with him.

Sylvain: Thinking that he's in the next room makes me hesitate to invite a girl over at night. I'm already scared and scared of the scolding the next morning... (Best Answer): Maybe I should reconsider the room assignments…

Sylvain's note to the advice box was about how he was afraid to invite girls to his room because Dimitri was next door. He didn't take his scoldings from Ingrid or Felix very seriously. But Dimitri's seriousness seemed to remind him of his father. And Sylvain was deathly afraid of his father. I'm sure that's why he felt like he had no way out of his arranged marriage.

Sylvain: As someone with a Crest, I was raised with great care by my parents. But my older brother, who didn't have a Crest, was suddenly treated very coldly when I was born. …My older brother even pushed me into a well and abandoned me in the snowy mountains. I understood it even as a child. I had taken everything from him. How could I complain in front of someone who wanted a Crest but couldn't get one? So, the persistent stares of women, the appraising looks of noble daughters… I had to smile and accept them. …Because I had the Crest.

Sylvain bears the Crest of Gautier which is associated with the Death Arcana in Tarot. And the theme of "death" certainly played a large role in his character arc. Growing up, he was constantly told that he should go die and his brother tried to kill him. But Death doesn't mean literal death. It signifies a time of significant transformation, transition, and change. The old version of you needs to "die" to allow the new you to be created. 

Sylvain: Ever since King Lambert passed away, I hardly get to see my childhood friends anymore…

Death also represents a resistance to change. In Hopes, if you take Sylvain on an expedition and ask him about his memories of the past, he sadly recounts how he and his old friends stopped hanging out much after King Lambert died. Sylvain would have been fifteen at the time. The same age he was when he hit on Lord Gwendal's daughter, prompting Ingrid to finally leave her room out of concern for him.

Sylvain: Actually, I have a history with Lord Gwendal. Yes, that was a story from many years ago. I met a lovely young lady, fell in love, and was nearly killed by her father… And that father happened to be Lord Gwendal. Oh boy, I was truly prepared to die at that time!

In Japanese, Sylvain's Classic Mode death quote uses the word "覚悟" (kakugo). It means "prepared for" or "mental readiness." And in Japanese, he uses that exact same word when talking about the Lord Gwendal incident. Sylvain's childhood antics (such as hitting on Ingrid's grandmother) could be seen as a harmless ploy for attention to compensate for his terrible home life. However, his involvement with Gwendal's daughter appeared to be way more serious.

Sylvain: …Well, whatever you think, Professor, I don't intend to change my attitude. You see, I may be a good-for-nothing, but I'm still a noble with a Crest… I try not to get involved in serious relationships. They only bring trouble. Eventually, I'll be quietly married off to some suitable partner and settle down.

Sylvain was extremely disingenuous with girls. He would use them for sex, then dump them in public. He was dreading the fact that his life would change after he got married and he blamed them for it.

Ingrid: Right? We're just childhood friends, right? Then why do I have to clean up after your messes? Sylvain: Haha, nobody asked you to do that! Well, just think of it as your role and accept it. For some reason, it's been like this since we were kids, and it'll probably continue. Ingrid: …Continue like this? So, you don't have any intention of changing your ways!?

The only way Sylvain knew how to cope with his fate was by pretending that he just couldn't resist falling in love with every cute girl that he laid eyes on. But the truth was that he disliked girls and was even afraid of them. He was being literal when he said he would stake his life on flirting.

Ingrid: You keep earning resentment from women, and eventually, you'll really get stabbed. Sylvain: Haha, well, if I get stabbed, I get stabbed. I suppose that's just how it goes. Ingrid: …Dying for such a silly reason is definitely not okay, are you stupid!? …Glenn was the type to make those kinds of jokes too. And he really never came back.

Ingrid's line in her B-Support with Sylvain was changed slightly. She specifically warned him that he would get stabbed if he didn't change his behavior. And he just laughed, as if he were prepared to die.

Sylvain: I just, uh… Well, you're going to think I'm being a jerk or hitting on you or whatever… When we're side by side like this, training, I feel— I don't know—oddly at ease. Ingrid: I know what you mean. It's probably because we've been friends for so long. Sylvain: That must be it. Let's never change. Friends forever?

All Sylvain wanted was for things to go back to how they were when he was a kid. In their Houses A-Support, he emphasized that he was not trying to hit on Ingrid. The idea that things wouldn't change between them just put him at ease.

Ingrid: What do you mean you feel relieved seeing me eat? Sylvain: Haha, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. Just seeing you enjoying your meal like that makes me, you know, feel relaxed. [...] Nobody can stay the same as they were in the past. You said something like that recently too, didn't you? That's why having something that doesn't change is really comforting for us.

In their Hopes A-Support, he offered to treat Ingrid to dinner not as an attempt to woo her, but just so that he could watch her eat. It was a relief to him that some people never change.

Sylvain: Hey Felix, you free? You must be free, right? Let's go flirt with some girls together again today. Felix: Tch… You're disturbing my training. Go by yourself. Sylvain: Don't say that. Come on, we've known each other for a long time, haven't we?

The one change that bothered Sylvain more than any other was the change in Felix's personality. While he didn't like girls becoming attached to him, he was sad that Felix seemed to have outgrown that tendency and no longer wanted to spend time with him.

Felix: We've certainly known each other for a while, but that's about it. Besides, it's not what I wanted. It was just our parents' wishes. Sylvain: So, you're saying it's a rotten relationship, huh?

The phrase "rotten relationship" is kinda hard to translate. It is "腐れ縁" (kusareen) in Japanese. It means "a relationship that cannot be severed even if one wants to." It's usually a relationship that has persisted for a long time, often against one's will or preference, because it is bound up in some work, social, or family obligation. It tends to have a negative connotation, implying that the relationship is undesirable or plagued by difficulties.

It was derived from "鎖縁" (kusari-en) or "chain relationship", a term that refers to a close and inseparable relationship between two people, often described as being bound together by chains. "Chain relationship" was a positive term referring to two people bound by fate, as if they were destined to be together. But over time, the "rotten" part was added, and it took on a negative connotation.

Felix: That boar prince, it's been a rotten relationship since birth… No, even before birth. That's why I'm warning you… He harbors a beast within. You can trust in his skill in combat and brute strength, but as a person, he's utterly untrustworthy. You better be careful not to be devoured yourself.

Felix used the exact same term when he warned Byleth about Dimitri in Chapter 2. And the way he described his relationship with Sylvain is actually a far more accurate description of his relationship with Dimitri. Felix did have fond memories of their childhood together, but Dimitri's sadistic smile while torturing the rebels was ingrained in his mind. After that, he no longer wanted to associate with him, but he couldn't break off their relationship due to his family.

Sylvain: So, you're saying it's a rotten relationship, huh? Come on now, Felix. You used to cling to me like glue back in the day. You couldn't beat your brother, got into fights with His Highness, and every time something happened, you came crying to me. Back then, you were so meek and innocent. I doted on you like a little brother… Felix: ...Enough.

Sylvain disagreed that his relationship with Felix was just a rotten relationship. The implication was that it was more of a chain relationship and Felix was trying to downplay how close they were because he was hurt by the way Sylvain was acting.

Felix: Listen. I've held back until now, but there are plenty of things I want to say to you. In your personal life and even on the battlefield, you're frivolous. Whenever something happens, it's always about women… Sylvain: Hmm, what's wrong with that? It's rude to ignore cute girls… Felix: There's a limit to that, you sex fiend. If your sword skills were solid, I could acknowledge that. But you slack off even in training… Do you not feel any guilt about hurting others' feelings and holding them back?

Sylvain's womanizing certainly hurt Felix's feelings, but he was even more hurt by his frivolousness in battle. The implication was that he had no choice but to double down on his training because he was always babysitting Sylvain on the battlefield.

Felix: Being in this military academy, one becomes speechless at the sheer number of fools who, indulged by the power of their Crests and the status of nobility, neglect their training. It's truly astounding. (Best response): It would be good to give them training.

Felix's note to the advice box was undoubtedly written with a particular person in mind.

Sylvain: You know, since way back, I've been doing stupid things, and you've always been there to yell at me… Felix: Both of us getting lectured by Ingrid because of you… Try to put yourself in my shoes, I got dragged into it every time. Sylvain: Yeah yeah, that's right. Our relationship hasn't changed no matter how many years have passed. But you've changed, Felix. You were so adorable when we were kids… Now, you've become completely warped. I wonder why you grew up like this… Felix: Tch… You, on the other hand, are still a good-for-nothing, just like in the past. Sylvain: Ahahaha, what's that? Is that something the person who has always been by my side would say? Even now, look, you came all the way to me with the intention to apologize for what happened the other day, right?

Sylvain wasn't intimidated by Felix. But being yelled at by him still hurt his feelings and he kept his distance afterwards. And Felix came crawling back to him to apologize. He couldn't sever their relationship even if he was so hurt that he may have wanted to. He was afraid of losing their friendship, so it proves he was lying when he called it a rotten relationship.

Felix: …The boar prince and I have been acquainted since before birth. Before I knew it, he was always by my side… You might even say that, at one time, we were best friends.

Dimitri and Felix were always together as little kids and Felix used to whine unless they could do everything together (Ironically, Dimitri was probably the one who viewed it as a rotten relationship when they were kids). I've seen some people say that they were best friends up until the incident suppressing the rebellion when they were 14 or 15. But that didn't appear to be the case. At the time the Tragedy of Duscur occurred, when he was 13, Dimitri considered Glenn his best friend.

Sylvain: However, both His Majesty and Felix have really grown up, haven't they? Ten years ago, they were the kind of guys who would squabble over breaking each other's swords and whatnot…

Felix always went crying to Sylvain whenever he and Dimitri fought. Dimitri broke Felix's sword when they were nine years old. So, even by that age, Felix was clingier with Sylvain than Dimitri.

Sylvain: A little laziness is just right. If you push yourself too hard, you'll just get tired. Oh yeah, I'll treat you to a meal, so let's go out to town together, Felix. Felix: No. Sylvain: Which is more important, going to town with me or training? Felix: Training. See ya.

Sylvain lamented how cute Felix used to be in Houses, Hopes, and even Heroes. He was the only male character that Sylvain was ever interested in spending time with one-on-one. He even invited him out to dinner like he did with girls. It is very likely that he was so sad about how much Felix changed because he used to be his ideal "girl".

Sylvain: More importantly, it's time for the ballroom dance now, isn't it? There's also the White Heron Cup competition, right? So, Professor, who are we sending from our class? (Byleth chooses Sylvain as the representative for the White Heron Cup) Sylvain: Huh, me? Well, um, that's fine I guess. It's a good opportunity to show the girls what I can do. (Byleth does NOT choose Sylvain as the representative for the White Heron Cup) (Japanese) Sylvain: If anything, I'd rather see a beauty dancing than watch a bastard dancing, you know. (English) Sylvain: I get it. No worries, really. I'd rather see a beautiful person dancing instead of some goof like me.

Sylvain lumped himself into the "yarou" category, too. He was eager to impress girls during the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. But he will sound a bit disappointed if you choose him as the representative for the White Heron Cup. He's happier if you choose a beauty. The term he used for a "beauty" was "美人" (bijin). It means "beautiful person," but it is primarily used to refer to women.

It can sometimes be used to describe an exceptionally attractive man, although less commonly. Generally, "bijin" is more commonly associated with feminine beauty in Japanese language and culture. While it can technically be used to describe individuals of any gender who are considered beautiful, the term often carries connotations of traditional or stereotypical feminine beauty standards.

And since "yarou" is gendered, you'd think that "beautiful girl" would be the obvious way to translate that line, right? On the first day of school, “beautiful girls” was used. But I have to give the localizers credit where credit is due. They used "person" rather than "girl". Because they knew Sylvain would not have minded one bit if Felix had been the White Heron Cup representative.

Felix: You seem like you have something to say. …You're not seriously considering choosing me as the representative for the White Heron Cup, are you? (Byleth does NOT choose Felix as the representative for the White Heron Cup) Felix: I see. That's fine then.

Felix is unsociable. He gets annoyed if Byleth stares at him too long during teatime and he struggles to maintain eye contact when talking to people. Yet he was not as opposed to participating in a dance contest as you'd expect. He even brought it up himself. If you don't pick him, he doesn't sound relieved like most of the others. In fact, in Japanese, I'd say he sounds a tiny bit disappointed. His objection seemed to be dancing with a girl, not dancing in general.

Felix: I'd much rather swing a sword at the training grounds than dance with a girl at the ball. Sylvain: Huh? Your Highness and Felix, are you joking…? You can dance with all the girls in the school. Do you mean to say that on such a wonderful day, you two dudes will be practicing swordplay with each other…? That doesn't seem like a sane idea!

One the "Night of Promises", Dimitri was not looking forward to the ball because he was sad that he was never going to rekindle his spark with Edelgard. He still attends the ball, and the cutscene shows him dancing next to Edelgard, as if to imply that he wished he was dancing with her instead. Felix felt the same way as Dimitri. He said he was going to skip out and train instead, something that made Sylvain sad. He used the word "yarou" once again here, emphasizing the masculine nature of the activity he's criticizing.

Felix: But… to the casual observer, it might not look entirely unlike a tryst between a man and a woman. If you're truly dissatisfied, then that's your compromise. Byleth: Unfriendly. Felix: Call it whatever you want. I'm about to head back to the training grounds.

If Byleth meets Felix at the Goddess Tower, his dialogue indicated that he did indeed skip the ball to practice at the training grounds.

Sylvain: When I heard you were heading to the Goddess Tower, I wondered who you were having a tryst with… I never expected you'd just be standing there alone, lost in thought. Byleth: Tryst...? Sylvain: Wait a minute. Seriously, what's going on? When someone goes to the Goddess Tower, isn't it to meet a lover? Here, vows exchanged are sure to be fulfilled… It's the lovers' sanctuary, you know. (Option 1) Byleth: Why did you come alone? Sylvain: Huh? Oh, well... Truth be told, I was curious about who you were waiting for. I hurried to catch up, only to find you alone in the end... Well, I must say, it put my mind at ease.

Sylvain goes to the Goddess Tower simply because he was curious about who Byleth was waiting for and was relieved to find out that she was alone. Then afterwards, he offers to make a vow with her.

(Option 2) Byleth: Don't you need to invite a female student? Sylvain: That's true. I could have invited someone, but my true love is right in front of me. Being alone at the Goddess Tower means I can try to woo you, right?

The phrase Sylvain used for "true love" was "本命の相手" (honmei no aite). "本命の" (honmei no) translates to "main," or "primary". "相手" (aite) translates to "partner" or "opponent," depending on the context. The phrase typically refers to the person that the individual truly loves or considers as their ideal romantic interest.

HOWEVER. It also translates as "favorite opponent" in specific contexts, particularly in sports or competitive activities where "aite" means "opponent" or "rival." In that context, it refers to the most formidable opponent in a competition or match, the one whom the athlete or team considers their top rival or challenger.

Byleth: …Me? Sylvain: Yes. Who else would I be talking about?

Who else would he be talking about? Well maybe someone who spends a lot of time with Byleth as a sparring partner? Someone who was absent from the ball? Perhaps someone he made a promise together with in the past?

Sylvain: Hey, Professor, I won't make you unhappy. So, how about getting married… Byleth: You're not trustworthy. Sylvain: Haha, well, that's true.

Sooo. Why did Sylvain go to the Goddess Tower? Was Byleth his true love? Or was she actually his primary rival for his true love? Well, I think we can rule out the "true love" option.

Felix: This is troublesome… The enemy is just a bunch of thieves. I doubt there are any skilled fighters among them. Sylvain: Don't be so cold. I'm looking forward to it. Come on, there might be a beautiful female thief among them.

Felix was always trying to prove his worth in battle. And Sylvain was always goofing off because he didn't value his own life. Before the group's first battle against bandits in Houses, he wasn't acting serious because there would most likely not be skilled fighters among them. He even made a joke about flirting with one of them.

Felix: If they're in a state of confusion right now, we can easily round them all up. I'm on my way. Sylvain: …No, no, no, hold on a second. Don't you think there's something strange about that fortress?

In Hopes, the bandits were a much greater threat than they anticipated, and Sylvain completely changed his tune. You gain Support points with Felix if you suggest charging the fort. But you gain points with Sylvain if you suggest a more cautious approach.

Sylvain: Ah, I thought since it's a festival day, there wouldn't be any lectures, and we could play all day… Hey, Professor. Even if you were planning an assassination, would you really choose the day of the Rite of Rebirth for it? I feel like there might be times when security is less tight. Or is there a reason it has to be this day?

Before the Rite of Rebirth, there was an assassination attempt on Lady Rhea. Sylvain didn't take it seriously because he knew the monastery's security would be tighter than ever on that day, and he was just goofing off and chatting up Hilda.

Sylvain: …But it's strangely quiet these days. Is it because the knights are out and about? Felix: I heard the knights are putting all their effort into tracking down the enemy. Sylvain: Putting all their effort… Isn't that a bit too much? Is it okay to neglect the monastery's defense? Felix: …How do you see this situation? Byleth: Maybe you're worrying too much. Sylvain: Is that so… Well, I hope the knights come back soon.

But after Jeralt was killed by intruders, he was standing with Felix, worrying about the thin security with all the knights out looking for the enemy. It's a very nice bit of subtle storytelling, showing that, even if he seemed like he was always goofing off, he was serious about Felix's safety and always kept an eye on him.

Sylvain: Come to think of it, you don't like sweets, huh? Well, thanks. I'll eat it later. …So, what do you want me to do? Ah, you want me to play matchmaker with a girl? Felix: Is your head filled with sugar or something? I'm just here to thank you for the battle the other day. If you hadn't noticed the ambush, I would probably be dead by now. Sylvain: Oh, right... But isn't that just how it goes? On the battlefield, it's all about mutual support. That's what comrades do, right? Felix: …You haven't changed a bit. Sylvain: Yeah, I'm still the same as ever. Felix: You always…

Felix is the only partner who will confess their feelings for Sylvain at the end of the Support chain. You could tell that he was mulling it over in the A-Support. He even brought a gift of sweets for Sylvain before he planned to tell him how he felt. But he chickened out. Still, he was going to say that he was grateful to Sylvain for always protecting him ever since they were kids.

Sylvain: His Majesty or Felix would probably make better hunting partners than me. I prefer to just sit back and watch.

While there are no specific childhood anecdotes related to this, a comment Sylvain made during his Hopes expedition did imply that he occasionally accompanied Dimitri and Felix on their hunting trips.

Felix: Boars are naturally wary animals, but this one seems injured… If it senses us, it'll charge. We can't afford to get injured by its massive rush. Raphael: Huh? Felix, you sound like you've fought something like this before? Felix: It's a story from many years ago, but I once let a similar quarry slip away. [...] House Blaiddyd and House Fraldarius used to go on hunting trips together. On one trip, a certain prince killed so many deer it proved impossible to fit them all on the sled. Meanwhile, I went off hunting on my own, encountered the boar, and barely escaped with my life.

Felix had a near-death encounter with a wild boar as a child. And I strongly suspect that Sylvain was the one who saved his life and got pretty hurt in the process.

Felix: You've always been like this since we were kids. Normally so unreliable, but you've always thrown yourself in harm's way and helped us when it really counted. …Every time you managed to put on that carefree smile for us, I cannot deny that I wanted to hug you a little. Sylvain: O-Oh… You're the one spouting those kinds of lines? Have you eaten something strange? Felix: Tch… I won't say it again, you fool! Now that I know you're safe, I'm going back to my room.

In the A+ Support, Felix will finally say what he was thinking back in the A-Support. He will mention how Sylvain would literally put his body on the line and then smile afterwards. And Sylvain told Marianne that a smile was the true measure of a person's worth. He always smiled because it made him feel strong.

Felix uses the word "抱いていた" (dakishiteita). It means "embrace" or "hold." It can mean to literally hold, hug, or embrace someone in a physical sense. Or it can be used metaphorically to express the idea of cherishing or harboring a feeling of admiration or longing. But the writers probably chose that word for its dual meaning.

Felix was certainly trying to communicate his admiration for Sylvain's ability to smile even when he's hurt and in a lot of pain. And in doing so, he made his intense longing for Sylvain clear. And I do not think the localizers were wrong to have Felix express his desire to hug Sylvain in a literal sense. It was all part of the same package.

Sylvain: Alright, alright. Then I'll wait while having a meal until you feel like it. Come on, Felix, let's grab a meal in town. I'll treat you. How about some meat? Felix: …Alright. I owe you one. Just for today, I'll go along. Sylvain: After we fill our stomachs, then we can go chat up some girls… Felix: ………. Sylvain: Just kidding, jeez, you're really short-tempered. Come on, let's go together, Felix!

Sylvain offered to treat Felix to dinner in their B-Support, and he got rejected. In the A-Support, he offered again, and Felix agreed because he owed him. Now, Sylvain offered to treat Byleth—even the male—to dinner in his Paralogue because he saved his life, and he owed him. So, that probably wasn't what he wanted to hear.

In Sylvain's mind, relationships were always transactional, and he was very suspicious over whether anyone really wanted to spend time with him. He even suspected that Felix came to give him the sweets just so he could set him up with a girl. So, he apparently tested Felix's intentions by suggesting they chat up girls afterward. Ya know, just to make sure they're on the same page and it's really a date. In light of what Felix intended to say, it's clear why he was upset.

Sylvain: ...Hey, uh, Ingrid. Training again today? Ingrid: No, today I'm going to the city to buy supplies. Training comes afterward. Is there something wrong? Sylvain: N-no, you're still as serious as ever, huh? Some things never change. Ingrid: …What are you talking about? I haven't changed at all. Sylvain: Y-yeah, you're right, haha. Ingrid: …Hey, what's up, Sylvain? Did you eat something strange? Sylvain: N-no, it's not that. Um… Have you found someone you like?

Sylvain was always smooth whenever he was flirting with girls. But in his A+ Support with Ingrid, he was incredibly flustered and stumbling over his words. He's a completely different person when he's really fallen for someone. Taken at face-value, the player would assume that he has fallen for Ingrid. And while that is certainly a valid interpretation, it actually isn't the only interpretation. He was particularly worried that she had been training a lot lately.

Sylvain: No, it's not like I'm flustered or anything. …I was just a little curious about the reason, that's all. Ingrid: …The reason for the makeup, huh. What do you think it is? Sylvain: Well… Is it because of a guy? If we're talking about someone you might like, going by your past tendencies… Felix…No, His Highness is also a possibility.

And the first person he asked about was Felix, due to Ingrid's history with Glenn and how Felix had changed to be more like him. But was it because he was afraid Felix would steal Ingrid from him? Or was he afraid Ingrid would steal Felix from him? While many people consider Ingrid the "canon" love interest for Sylvain, they deliberately left their A+ Support open to interpretation. I have no doubt that the writers preferred Felix as Sylvain's love interest, but they didn't want to make a gay pairing too obvious, so they left it open for Ingrid, too.

Sylvain: I've been given the opportunity for revenge. I won't waste it… even if it means stabbing each other to death…!

Regardless of which one you interpret as his love interest, Ingrid and Felix were the two most important people to Sylvain. If you do not recruit them in CF, they will die at Arianrhod, and Sylvain's dialogue changes in response during "Field of Revenge". The Japanese verb he uses "刺し違える" (sashichigaeru) literally refers to stabbing one another and killing each other.

Sylvain: Professor! Has it really been five years? We ought to raise a glass to the occasion. Celebrate your return. Nah, I'd rather commemorate it with your death.

Sylvain's CF arc is very interesting. He becomes like Miklan. The foreshadowing in his B-Support with Byleth was intended for this exact moment. He was so jealous of Byleth's ability to live freely that he wanted to kill them. And now he gets the chance. He doesn't care if he dies as long as he gets his revenge for his two friends. Sylvain felt like his parents only valued him for his Crest and his brother wanted him dead. But those two really loved him. He was so driven to kill Byleth in CF because s/he took everything from him.

Mercedes: You can't choose where you're born. It's like flowers not being able to choose where they bloom. Since we don't suffer from hunger or thirst, we can't complain even if the place is cramped. It's the same for both of us… We all have to bloom where we're planted. Sylvain: It's true that flowers can't choose where to bloom. They can't go where they want to go until they die, and if the environment is bad, they will just wither away.

Because of the arranged marriage looming over his head, Sylvain felt like a flower with his roots firmly planted. He didn't feel like he could go where he wanted to go until he died.

Sylvain: Finally… I can go to the place where they are… I'm sorry, Your Majesty… I… will go ahead and wait… Dimitri: Thank you, Sylvain. I will also… definitely go to where you all are.

And where did he want to go? To the place where Ingrid and Felix were. CF!Sylvain was relieved that he could finally join them upon his death, something that was sadly not included in the localized version. That line was especially relevant to his relationship with Felix because they promised to die together.

Sylvain: Me… disliking girls? Hahaha, no way, no way, not at all! I'm always serious when it comes to girls. I put my life on the line to woo them. Dorothea: You should focus on one person and then say that. You only have one life, and usually, there's only one person you can love enough to stake your whole life on.

Sylvain has the fewest number of paired endings out of any student. Understandably, very few women would consider marrying him. Mercedes would in order to escape her arranged marriage, but she'd have to give up her dream. And Ingrid would because she loved him and thought she needed to take care of him or else he'd end up like Glenn. But she'd also have to give up her dream.

In his S-Support proposal, Byleth was not quite sure if Sylvain was being sincere because he was still using shallow words. And Dorothea did not trust him, either, because he had to propose to her at least ten times. And of course, Dorothea will marry pretty much any nobleman in the game to secure her future. Felix had no one pressuring him and nothing to gain from being with Sylvain.

Sylvain: Do you remember? We made a promise when we were kids. That we'd die together. Felix: ...I remember. Sylvain: So, you see, there's no way I'd die before you and leave you behind.

In English, "dying together" could be taken as platonic. Just brothers-in-arms or best friends. However, there's a cultural nuance to it in Japanese because that phrase is often used in a romantic context. It implies that they will not just die but spend their whole lives together. It was, in essence, a marriage proposal.

Felix: …Well, I suppose that's true. But I'm fed up with getting terrified like this. You shouldn't just fool around all the time. Take your training seriously for once. …If you end up carelessly throwing your life away, I won't be able to die with you. Sylvain: Yeah, you're right. Once I'm healed, I'll try to be a bit more serious.

Felix uses the phrase "肝を冷やす" (kimo-o-hiyasu). It's an expression that literally translates to "cooling the liver" but figuratively means "to be frightened" or "to be scared stiff." It refers to the feeling of fear or nervousness that causes a person's body temperature to drop, often likened to a sensation of chilling one's liver.

Their entire Support chain was about how Felix never really changed. He always prioritized his training over hanging out because he was absolutely terrified that Sylvain would get himself killed and they wouldn't have a future together. After finally realizing this, Sylvain reaffirmed his childhood promise. He no longer wanted to die.

Sylvain: Anyway, I suppose you just said the things I usually say, right? Even if it's the same pick-up line, serious guys' words are taken seriously.

When Felix said Sylvain was frivolous in their C-Support, he used the word "不真面目" (fumajime). When Sylvain said he'd be more serious from now on, he used the word "真面目" (majime), which is the opposite. He also used this word in his Support with Dimitri. It means "serious" or "earnest" in English. It describes someone who is diligent, takes things seriously, and is sincere.

The "Sincerest of Knights" was not just saying that he would take his training seriously. He was also saying that he would take his personal life seriously. He wouldn't be frivolously going around picking up girls and telling them he loves them enough to stake his life on them anymore. Because he already found the one.

Sylvain: These five years, fighting and fighting… Finally, the tough times have come to an end. A new era is about to begin. …So, I thought it's about time I put an end to my own fate. Byleth: Put an end to? Sylvain: Yes. My fate is not determined by something like a Crest; it's determined by me… This is the first step towards that. Not someone trying to use my Crest, not someone decided by someone else, and not just a playmate…

Death is the arcana of transformation and typically refers to a need to start over by letting go of the past. It is about moving forward from outworn and outgrown ways of life. And that's what Sylvain's character arc was all about, regardless of whether he marries Byleth.

The term for "put an end to" is "けじめ" (kejime). It can be translated as "closure," "settling accounts," "bringing something to an end," or "establishing a clear boundary." It suggests that Sylvain is finally ready to confront his fear, establish firm boundaries with his father, and decide for himself who he forms intimate relationships with.

Sylvain: But our feet aren't roots. We can move ourselves and go where we want. If we navigate cleverly, we might not have to give up what we want to do. [...] I'm not trying to court you or anything like that. But if I, as the legitimate son of Gautier, were to propose to you… The other party would have no choice but to withdraw. It might sour our relations a bit, though. Afterward, you can do as you please. You can work at the church or become whatever you want. Mercedes: But if you did that, Sylvain, you wouldn't be able to marry the person you love, right? Sylvain: Hahaha, I'm not being serious about that.

Sylvain is a Gemini. Being the Twins, they'll flit from person to person to see what everyone has to offer, but once they commit, their lives are complete and whole. Because he and Felix made such a promise before the game even started, it suggests that they were both in love with each other, regardless of whether you go for their paired ending.

And if Sylvain already had someone that he wanted to spend his life with, but that he wasn't free to do so because they were the wrong gender to produce heirs, then it casts his behavior in a different light. His storyline was about forbidden love. He changes his behavior in Hopes because he realizes that he can go where he wants and doesn't have to give up on being with the person he loves.

Felix: I was raised to value strength above all else. Whereas you had a reason, an ambition, pushing you toward that hunger. So, tell me. What was the reason? Why were you driven to become so strong?

Not only is Sylvix the best relationship for Sylvain's growth, but it is also the best relationship for Felix's too. Felix was also a victim of Faerghus's patriarchal culture. He was taught to swing a sword before he could write and was raised with the motto: "Grow strong so you may live, and live to grow stronger".

Felix: It's like training with my brother. He always won—always—and died before I could win a single bout. From the first time I held a sword, all I wanted was to surpass him. And that's what drove me to become so strong.

Since Felix was a child, his main ambition in life was to surpass his brother, who he always lost to while sparring. And that sense of purpose continued to subconsciously drive him, even nine whole years after he died.

Rodrigue: …My eldest son was quite outstanding, you know. He was knighted at the age of fifteen.

Glenn possessed exceptional swordsmanship ability. Felix was probably so obsessed with surpassing his brother at swordplay because he was trying to earn the admiration of his father.

Felix: Sorry, but I'm not "Emile." And of course, I'm not your brother. Tch… It's so annoying being compared to someone else. Mercedes: I'm really sorry… I'll be on my way then. …Oh, the tea refill is here. Please help yourself if you'd like. …Well, see you. Felix: …I am me. Regardless of what anyone says, I'm not anyone else. …Isn't that right…Brother.

The English localization changed several lines in Felix's C-Support with Mercedes, giving it a slightly different meaning than the original Japanese version. The verb used by Felix is "重ねる" (kasaneru). It means "to pile up" or "to layer". Metaphorically, in this context, it conveys the concept of overlapping an image of one person with someone else, because they remind you of them. The Japanese version made it sound like "You're you, not anyone else" was something Glenn had to remind Felix often.

Shez: Is Dimitri really that much like his dad? Rodrigue: Oh, yes, absolutely. Well, the late King was a bit more hot-headed, it seems… Compared to me and my son, they are spitting images of each other. See, we don't resemble each other much. Shez: Yeah, you're really not very similar at all. Your looks aside, of course.

The concept of "kasaneru" played into Rodrigue's relationship with both of his sons. He had trouble viewing them as their own people, rather than just reflections of himself. He was very proud that Glenn took after him and disappointed that Felix did not. He also projected his own feelings onto Glenn. While it did seem like he chose to defend Dimitri to the death, he was not satisfied to die.

Felix: …Hmph. It's a waste to keep someone like you as a woman. Leonie: Oh, come on. That's what's wrong with you. Strength has nothing to do with gender. It's because you underestimate your opponent that you fall into traps. Felix: …Yeah, you're right.

I've seen some people accuse Felix of being a misogynist because of several comments he made to female characters. One comment was to Ingrid about finding a husband, which I'll get to later. Another was his comment to Leonie about being impressive "for a girl". His comment in Japanese is actually entirely different. He was saying that Leonie is so strong that it's a waste because strength isn't a trait that is appreciated or expected of females in Fódlan.

Felix was implying that her talents might be better suited for manhood. And she actually made him question that way of thinking. This Support showed how Felix was aware that some people don't naturally conform traditional gender roles and it would make their lives much easier if they were the opposite sex. Which is something he had undoubtedly thought about himself.

Felix: It's all well and good to remember the dead, but sentimentality will get you killed. All the tears in the world couldn't bring them back, after all. Ingrid: You have always viewed the world in such stark terms. It might even be one of your strengths. But one day, you will learn that emotions and sentimentality are also a strength, not a curse.

Felix is a Pisces, which is considered one of the most feminine signs of the zodiac due to its association with sensitivity, intuition, empathy, and creativity. Pisceans are often described as dreamy, compassionate, and deeply empathetic individuals who are attuned to the emotions and needs of others. As a child, Felix was meek, innocent, clingy, and would cry easily. These are stereotypically feminine traits which would certainly not be valued in a strength-obsessed culture like Faerghus. And especially not in a boy.

Felix: I am tired of it. For years, I've been forced to be a "replacement" for the dead. I had an excellent brother. He was a splendid knight worthy of admiration… He's dead now. After my brother's death, his presence haunted me like a shadow.

The Mother Goddess archetype is a powerful and ancient symbol found in various cultures and mythologies around the world. It represents the qualities of nurturing, fertility, protection, wisdom, and interconnectedness. Some examples are Isis from ancient Egyptian mythology and Mother Mary in Christianity. Sothis was the embodiment of the divine feminine principle.

The one who embodied the divine masculine principle was Nemesis. He represented the Warrior Hero archetype, which embodies qualities such as courage, strength, and valor. Figures like Achilles in Greek mythology, King Arthur in Arthurian legends, and Beowulf in Anglo-Saxon literature exemplify the ideals of the Warrior Hero.

Despite being the most religious country, the actual values of Faerghus were much more aligned with the Warrior Hero than the Mother Goddess. The Crest of Fraldarius is associated with the Emperor arcana. It represents the divine masculine principle. As the replacement heir, Felix's patriarchal duty was to serve as the king's sword and shield. But he hated the ideals of chivalry.

Dimitri: Heh. You know, Felix, you really are growing more and more like your brother. Always so sarcastic, and constantly looking for a fight. But deep inside, more than anyone, you—

The concept of "kasaneru" factored into Dimitri and Felix's relationship as well. Felix's gruff personality was not the natural effect of puberty. It was the result of being forced into a role he wasn't suited for. He hated bloodshed. His first battle left him horrified and he needed to desensitize himself to cope. After losing his brother and becoming a squire, his naturally sentimental and meek personality changed to become more like his brother, "sarcastic and constantly looking for a fight". Stereotypically masculine traits.

Bernadetta: Felix, did you just smile? And it was a really big smile, right? Hehehe, it's like cracking open a tough nut and finding a sweet smile inside… Felix: Tch… Don't get cocky, silly girl. Bernadetta: Oh no, the shell closed! Felix: …You've got guts to tease me like that. Seems like you really want to get in trouble.

The word Bernadetta used was "甘い" (amai). It is used for "sweet" and, just like in English, is often used to describe something that is sweet in taste or metaphorically sweet in demeanor or expression. In Japan, sweets are culturally coded as childish and feminine and liking meat is considered masculine. Did Felix truly not like sweets? Or did he just avoid them because of how they are perceived?

Bernadetta: Felix, please try this. This candy has a reputation for not being sweet. (Normal) Felix: I refuse. Whether it's sweet or not, I don't like candy. (Felix & Lysithea support level B reached) Felix: Candy, huh... If you say it's not sweet, should I take some?

It's worth noting that Felix will refuse to eat unsweet candy that Bernadetta offers him in their A+ Support. But he will actually give the candy a try if he has reached B-Support with Lysithea, after he tries her cake. And in their paired ending, he gives up the sword to spend to his life baking sweets with her. So, it suggests that he was just concerned with keeping up appearances.

Felix: If I were to die here, would you say something like you did when it was my brother? "That's the true end for a knight."

During World War II, ultra-nationalists popularized Yamato Nadeshiko as the female manifestation of Yamato Damashii. It is the term for an idealized Japanese man and refers to the traditional virtues and characteristics associated with him. These include loyalty, courage, honor, selflessness, and a strong sense of duty. This concept is deeply rooted in Japanese culture and history, reflecting the values upheld by the samurai class and other historical figures. The Kamikaze suicide pilots were said to embody Yamato Damashii.

Dimitri: My closest friend was a knight who served the royal family. He was near to my own age, and I admired him greatly. But one day, I watched him die. He stood his ground and fought bravely, but his life was snuffed out in the blink of an eye all the same. Ingrid: I always looked up to Glenn. He was the very picture of a perfect knight—noble and virtuous. In the end, he laid down his life—the ultimate sacrifice. I feel proud of him in ways that words can't quantify. Rodrigue: To this day, I'm proud of Glenn. He gave his life to protect Prince Dimitri. If he had abandoned His Highness and fled, I don't know that I could have forgiven him… I would have been deeply ashamed.

Glenn was less a character and more an archetype. He represented the ideal man of Faerghus that Felix was supposed to aspire to be. Since he was a child, his purpose in life was getting strong enough to beat Glenn at sparring. He felt like he would only be valued if he became more like his brother. And after the Tragedy of Duscur, he felt like his father would only value him if he died.

Sylvain: The old Felix was really adorable, but what happened to make him like that? (Best Answer): Say it's part of growing up.

Whenever Felix lost to Glenn at sparring, he would go crying to Sylvain. It is likely that Sylvain was the one person, other than Glenn, who made Felix feel appreciated for who he really was. Rodrigue, Dimitri, and Ingrid always talked about how admirable Glenn was. Sylvain always talked about how adorable Felix was and was sad about how he had changed. After losing his brother, Felix probably felt like his purpose in life was keeping his promise with Sylvain.

(If Byleth is male) Felix: Having heard of your skills, I'm eager to meet you in battle. Come to the training ground later. There, you will show me what you're capable of.

Regardless of gender, Felix viewed Byleth as his personal rival, just like he did with Glenn when he was a kid.

(If Byleth is female) Sylvain: Such benevolence is a sight to behold! I don't suppose you would care to join me for tea? We could discuss education…and marriage. Felix: Control yourself, Sylvain. I have more important matters to discuss with our new professor. Come to the training ground later. There, you will show me what you're capable of.

Although, interestingly, it was Sylvain's marriage proposal that prompted him to challenge Female Byleth to a sparring match when she first became Professor.

Felix: …What. I thought it might be someone else, but it's you. Byleth: Meeting someone? Felix: I didn't have such plans. …I just wanted to come to a quiet place.

Felix skipped the ball. But he was already at the Goddess Tower when Byleth arrived. He said he just needed some quiet, but wouldn't the training grounds already be quiet on the night of the ball? In Japanese, it's clearer that he was actually expecting someone else instead of her. There's only one person he could possibly have had in mind. The person he made a promise with long ago.

Felix: You know the legend of the Goddess Tower, don't you? The one where vows always come true. It's so absurd it makes me feel like vomiting…but trying to believe in it might be amusing. Let's make a vow to the Goddess of Fódlan. I will… I will, someday, surpass you. I'll surpass your sword, your skills, and as a warrior, I'll defeat you.

Byleth rejected Sylvain's request to exchange vows. And her vow with Felix was quite unromantic. Before swearing his vow, Felix closed his eyes, which he also does in his A+ Support when he remembers his promise with Sylvain.

Byleth: What kind of vow is that? Felix: What, unsatisfied? If you're looking for a romantic relationship, I'm sorry, but hit up some other man. Unfortunately, I've lived a life devoid of such things. Blades, blood, and battles. That's all I am.

Felix wasn't disinterested in love. He was disillusioned with love. After feeling unloved by his father and cheated on by Sylvain, he was trying to fill the void of love with strength. The only way he knew how to prove his worth to himself was on the battlefield. And that was the only sense of purpose he had left in life, anyway.

Felix: Once I decided to fight alongside you and the emperor, I was prepared. …Prepared to abandon my country, to strike down my father, and to kill a man I once called a friend. But… my sword feels a bit heavy.

I found Felix's character arc in CF very interesting due to the whole "rotten relationships" idea. Remember how it means "a bad relationship that cannot be cut even if you try"?

Dimitri: Felix… You killed Rodrigue… your own father. Felix: I decided to cut down anyone who stood in my way. Even if it's my own father… Even if it's a friend I spent my childhood with. Dimitri: I see. After this exchange… I have finally resolved to kill you.

When it came down to literally cutting Dimitri out of his life, CF!Felix was very hesitant. He had a sad expression during this dialogue. And it was the same when he fought Ingrid.

Sylvain: Hey, Felix… Remember back when we were kids? We promised we'd die together, didn't we? Felix: ...Yeah, I remember. Sylvain: So… Now, it's gonna be you and me, killing each other. Felix: …Sorry, Sylvain. I'm gonna have to let you die first.

However, he showed absolutely NO hesitation killing Sylvain. In fact, he was even colder to him than he was to Rodrigue. Sylvain was clearly the real target of Felix's revenge in this chapter, not the boar. When Ingrid warned Sylvain that he was going to get stabbed if he kept cheating, it was probably foreshadowing for this moment.

Sylvain did not take CF!Ingrid's disloyalty personally and was not angry at her. He was just happy that her stubbornness hadn't changed. But he was very angry at CF!Felix. It was the betrayal he wanted revenge for. He specifically brought up their promise before expressing his desire to fight to the death. He was fully prepared to be stabbed to death, but he wanted to take Felix with him.

Rodrigue: Hmm. The dreams I held dear as a child have either already come true…or never will.

The Hero's Relic of House Fraldarius is the Aegis Shield, a reference to Greek mythology. It's likely no coincidence that Rodrigue's middle name is "Achille". He was probably inspired by Achilles, the warrior hero from the Iliad. Achilles' strong reaction to his childhood companion Patroclus' death is often taken as a sign that their relationship was possibly deeper than friendship. He lamented, "My dear comrade Patroclus has fallen—he whom I valued more than all others, and loved as dearly as my own life? I have lost him."

Rodrigue: No matter how much we grieve, the dead won't return. There's no way for them to hear our words. That's why their presence binds those living in the present like a curse. The more we cherished them, the more we become entangled and suffer… I'm not strong enough to scold His Highness for his foolishness. Byleth: Even so… Rodrigue: Yes. It seems scolding and getting them back on their feet is our duty as adults, isn't it? …Despite speaking so arrogantly, in the end, I am unfit to be an adult, aren't I?

When I first played AM and got to the scene called "Entrusting the Future", I assumed Rodrigue was still talking about Glenn when he lamented how the dead can't return.

Rodrigue: We both have a disposition where we can't just live without purpose. Both Felix and me. I lived to serve him, the late King Lambert… to support him as his right hand. Having lost the king I should serve, having lost the purpose of my life… I thought about what I should live for… And in the end, I made fulfilling our promise my new purpose. Shez: A promise… What was the promise about? Rodrigue: He asked me to admonish and correct his child if he ever strayed from the right path.

But after playing AG, there was another scene called "Entrusting the Future". And I realized he was actually talking about Lambert all along, not Glenn. AM!Rodrigue understood why Felix hated him for his comment about Glenn's death and he didn't blame him.

Dimitri: Every time I see the expression of longing on your face when you remember my father, there's always a thought that crosses my mind. I wonder if you wished to live and die alongside him. Rodrigue: …Haha, you're overthinking it, Your Majesty. Despite appearances, I consider myself quite resilient. No, I didn't wish for my own death when Lambert passed. However… if it were to fulfill a promise with him, I believe I'd be satisfied to die.

The concept of "kasaneru" played a large role in Rodrigue's relationship with Dimitri. It was very telling that he decided that his new reason to live was not to help his surviving son get back on his feet, but instead keeping his promise to Lambert. Dimitri had strayed from the right path, but Rodrigue could not scold him. In VW, this enabling caused Dimitri to throw everyone's lives away at Gronder Field. In AM, when the consequences of Dimitri's actions came back to bite him, Rodrigue took the punishment on himself, stating how there are no sins or punishments on the battlefield.

Rodrigue: He left home on his own, and now… this foolish son of mine. Felix: I have no intention of returning to you. Nor do I have any intention of returning to that boar. Rodrigue: …When a child misbehaves, it's the parent's responsibility. Felix… right here and now, you'll die!

Yet Rodrigue said he would not have forgiven Glenn if he had run away at Duscur. He could not even forgive his own teenage son for an act of cowardice on the battlefield. And if Felix joins CF, he has absolutely NO problems punishing him with death. I could understand and empathize with Rodrigue more after playing AG. I don't think he was a bad person. But he was certainly a bad father. He valued Lambert's (and Dimitri's) life above all others, even his own. And even his own sons. And Felix could pick up on that.

Felix: So, the old man's dead… Dimitri: Yes. Felix: I'll cut you down. Prepare yourself, you damn boar! Dimitri: Very well. Come at me, Felix!

There is unused dialogue that was apparently meant to be an alternate scenario based on whether Felix was defeated in Part 1 and was unrecruited in Part 2. I suspect much of his vitriol towards Dimitri in AM stemmed from jealousy over his father's affection. And because of him, he lost the chance to ever make up with his father. Their AM battle dialogue is the opposite of CF. This Felix had no hesitation cutting Dimitri out of his life violently and was prepared to die with him.

Felix: Sylvain, stand aside. My blade thirsts for his blood, not yours. Sylvain: Then surrender already. I don't want to fight you, either! Felix: …Sorry. That isn't up for discussion.

But he had no desire to cut Sylvain down. Because they could not finish their Support chain, Felix could not reaffirm his promise and find a new reason to live. I'm sure Sylvain knew that he was throwing his life away by trying to kill Dimitri and he was desperate to stop him. It's hard to overstate just how much more emotional Sylvain sounded in Japanese. He really did NOT want to fight Felix.

Rodrigue: Remember when I told you about the time I acted foolishly and got myself into trouble? Lambert broke through enemy lines and told me, "Don't waste your life." Although he was covered in wounds, so it wasn't very persuasive, was it? Dimitri: Haha, indeed. You two were truly good friends. I'm so envious of my father. Rodrigue: Haha, saying that would only make my son jealous. He'd ask, "What am I to you?"

As a descendant of the hero Fraldarius, Felix was expected to have the same kind of bond with Dimitri that Kyphon had with Loog and Rodrigue had with Lambert. But I never got the impression that he did. In Hopes, he inherits his father's title and position as the king's right-hand, similar to his solo ending in Houses.

His duty was to act as the Shield of Faerghus, and that involved protecting Dimitri, primarily from his own suicidal recklessness. That was a role he played in Houses as well, but he was mainly protecting Sylvain from himself instead of Dimitri. That's not to say that Felix did not care for Dimitri's safety in Houses. He just delegated those duties to Byleth, like when he asked her to "cage the boar".

Sylvain: Be careful, will you? …Jeez, you've even got bruises on your neck. If something were to happen to you, we don't know what will become of Faerghus, do we? Felix: I won't say it'll go smoothly without me, but I always assume I might die on the battlefield. Sylvain: Seriously, Felix… if you were to disappear now, what would happen to Faerghus and His Majesty?

It did not seem like being the Shield of Faerghus gave Felix a true sense of purpose or a reason to live. Sylvain's appeals for him to survive because Faerghus and Dimitri needed him did not seem to be very effective. In Hopes, he was pretty nonchalant about dying on the battlefield, causing Sylvain to scold him for being reckless. It was the exact opposite of their Houses Supports.

Sylvain: You and me, we'll support His Majesty and Faerghus, by complementing each other's weaknesses. Felix: …Yeah. Um… in the future too, I'll count on you. I hate to admit it, but I probably need you. Maybe. Besides… without you, everyone else would be insufferably gloomy. Sylvain: I get it. You don't have to say it. I'll always be with you, no matter what.

In Hopes, Felix was there to help Dimitri get back on his feet, both literally and figuratively. But Sylvain was the only one he could ever lean on. Felix was raised to believe it was his duty to be a literal human shield. And that's why it meant so much to him that Sylvain would always protect him.

Shez: Well, you know, Sylvain, who always fights with you, ends up being swarmed by enemies... Felix: …That's because every time, he boasts about taking charge with nonsense like "Leave it to me." Well, I believe he'd manage to get through any predicament, no matter how dire.

There was a change in Felix's C-Support with Shez. The localization stated that Felix would always get surrounded by enemies when fighting with Sylvain. But in the Japanese, it was the opposite.

Matthias: Rodrigue, fall back with the duke. The escape route is secured… Leave it to me. Rodrigue: Matthias… What a fool. Make sure you come back alive. You must! Matthias: It's been a while since I've fought to protect a friend's back. My blood is boiling with youthful fervor! Claude: Risking your life to let allies escape, huh? That's the knightly spirit of Faerghus we admire.

When Matthias died in GW, he said he would be waiting for Rodrigue and Lambert on the other side. It's extremely similar to what Sylvain says when he dies in CF. And there were many parallels between Sylvain and his father in Hopes.

Felix: I can still stand… I can still wield my sword. I can still fight…! Tch… With injuries like these, I won't withdraw…! Sylvain: Felix! Stand down! Aww, look at you all beaten up… Leave this to us and fall back, okay? Felix: Ugh… You better come back. If you're planning to die, I won't forgive you, Sylvain!

When Dedue is low on health during the SB battle at Ailell, Dimitri begs him to fall back because he cannot afford to lose him. But when Felix is low on health and can no longer stand, Sylvain is the one who comes to his aid. Rodrigue made it clear that he expected his son to fight to the death. But because of Sylvain he retreats. His future with Sylvain was the reason he chose to keep on living.

Sylvain: Ah… Felix. I'm glad you're safe. Felix: You, always trying to shield me... Don't be reckless. Even though you're weak, you always, always...! Sylvain: It's fine as long as you're safe. As long as you're alive, I… Felix: You stupid bastard! Don't joke like that. If you ever dare to die, I won't forgive you…!

It's more obvious in Japanese, but what Felix said to Sylvain at the Valley of Torment was almost the exact same as their A+ Support. Sylvain probably knew he was going to die, just like Matthias did in GW. He was fighting to the death as he avenged Ingrid. Even though he wanted to die together with him, if it came down to it, Sylvain was always content to sacrifice his life to let Felix live. He died as a true knight so that Felix wouldn't have to. Felix had the type of bond with Sylvain that he was supposed to have with Dimitri.

Felix: …Well, I was prepared for it to come to this. With Father… and also with that boar, we'll eventually have to part ways.

Felix did not want to become a knight for many reasons. In Japanese, he used the phrase "袂を分かつ" (tasuki wo wakatsu). It literally means "to separate the sleeves" and is often used metaphorically. The imagery evokes the idea of two individuals going their separate ways, often signifying a farewell or divergence of paths. That is his entire motivation if he joins CF.

Felix: For the past five years, I've been fighting under the emperor. …I've slain quite a number of enemies. Now, I must look just like that boar from back then. …It's the face of a cruel beast that revels in blood and violence.

But if he takes that path, he becomes the very boar he hated.

Felix: …He's dead. I heard he was beheaded… But… I didn't see his head. If, by some chance, he's leading that army… Byleth: Are you truly ready to fight? Felix: …Don't underestimate me. Even if it's him, I'm prepared to kill.

In VW, Felix suspected that Dimitri was still alive all along. But he still chose to stay with the Alliance.

Felix: …I never truly understood his hatred and anguish towards the Empire. If it were me…could I have saved him? Could I have… stopped him?

Afterwards, he wondered if he could have saved him from dying like a wild boar. Even if he had stayed with the Kingdom, it wouldn't have made a difference. Only Byleth would have been able to stop him. Felix would have just died pointlessly at Gronder like everyone else. But there was no way for him to know that. In both routes, he suffers from regret and wishes he'd died alongside Dimitri. He is a lost soul, who lives only for the sword and fights with a will to die.

Felix & Sylvain (Non-AM) After the war, minor skirmishes continued throughout various regions in Fódlan. Felix, upon learning that there were battles still to be fought, chose to forsake his noble status and make a living as a swordsman. Over a decade later, he took on the role of a mercenary, and his employer turned out to be Sylvain, who had inherited the title of Margrave Gautier. The two of them were overjoyed to reunite, but their diverging paths meant that their fates would never intertwine further. After finishing his work, Felix left Sylvain's territory, embarking on another journey as a wanderer. It was a few years later when Sylvain received a sword that was unmistakably Felix's.

This is the ending you get if Felix uses his sword to cut a path to his ideal future. While he can eventually give up the sword and find some peace if he has a female partner, his paired ending with Sylvain is the single most tragic ending in the game. Despite having a chance reunion, Sylvain is unable to save him. While the reason for this is never stated, the Japanese ending offers a clue.

The phrase used for “diverging paths” in Japanes is "道を違えた" (michi o tagaeta). It also translates to "took the wrong path" or "strayed from the path." It implies making a mistake or deviating from the correct course of action, moral path, or intended direction. It emphasizes the idea of going astray or making an error in judgment.

Sylvain's arc was about realizing that his Crest did not decide his fate, he did. After Felix left him, he probably settled down with a random noblewoman, had children, and it was simply too late for him to start a new life with Felix. Because Felix went astray and chose an immoral path, it caused Sylvain to make a big mistake. Felix follows in Glenn's footsteps and dies alone, full of pain and regret. And I can't imagine that Sylvain's fate was any better when Felix's sword arrived on his doorstep. He probably became the next Wall of Ice. They can only be together in AM and their non-AM ending strongly emphasizes how that was the intended path for them.

Felix: Why did they die while I lived? …Even now, there's not a day I don't question. But I'm not as spoiled as you. I'll take my regrets to the grave. There are more important things to me now.

The localization did a faithful job with the Dimitri/Felix A-Support. It's just that, in Japanese, there was a line about how Felix would take any regrets to his grave. It was very similar to his A-Support with Rodrigue in Hopes. In AM, Rodrigue dies, and Felix never got to apologize for punching him. He even left a note in the confession box about that. But in Hopes, he could get closure with his father.

Felix and Dimitri's relationship was FAR from healthy. It probably would be much better for both of them to sever their rotten relationship once and for all and walk separate paths in life. And their A-Support was written with the idea that, if this was the final time Felix spoke to Dimitri one-on-one, that would be okay. He said what he needed to say and wouldn't have any regrets. Dimitri could sense his underlying compassion and was content to leave it at that.

Flayn: But isn't there a future beyond that where Felix can avoid taking lives? Felix: …It's fine to dream of such a future, but I don't belong there. After all, I've been swinging a sword ever since I was born. ...Swordsmen are troublesome creatures. Fighting for peace, yet losing our purpose when peace finally arrives. Flayn: …Haha, if that's the case, you need not worry. […] If you felt like you lost your purpose in life, surely you would find a new purpose. It's not like you to fear loss. Felix: …...… You really are something, aren't you? Huh… I've never even thought about it. Maybe there is such a way of living after all. ...I'm starting to get interested. Perhaps swinging a sword for the future you dream of wouldn't be such a bad idea.

One way Felix resembled his father was that he couldn't live without a great purpose in life, and if he lost that purpose, he'd need something to fill the void. He needed a future to look forward to during peacetime. He was intrigued by the idea that one day he could chop wood, fruits, and vegetables instead of people.

Felix: The millennium festival? Talking about festivities at a time like this, you're as carefree as ever, huh… Sylvain: No, no. While it's a celebration, it's also a political gathering where rulers from various countries gather. It wouldn't hurt to think about the future, right? You can't stay uninvolved either. Felix: Well, that may be true. For now, focus on the battle at hand, Sylvain. If you die here, there won't be any millennium festival or anything. Sylvain: Oops, a valid point! Well then, for now, I'll quietly prepare for the deployment. Felix: Do that. Don't neglect your preparations and end up losing your life in some trivial place.

He wielded a sword because he was afraid of loss. Getting stronger would not fulfill him the same way a relationship could. His non-AM endings really emphasize the fact that the sword was just filling the void of a partner.

Felix: I find it easier to wield a sword than to hold a woman's hand.

But personally, I think he was the only gay character in 3H (well, other than perhaps his father). He got along well with women, but I was struck by how unromantic his paired endings with them were. He is the only man to propose to Byleth at the training grounds instead of the Goddess Tower. He spends a lot of time apart from her in their paired ending and is happiest exchanging swords instead of words when they actually do see each other. It felt more like he was replacing the loss of his brother through her than really being in love.

In his ending with Flayn, he continues to wield a sword as Dimitri's right-hand and only gives it up in favor of a quiet life on his estate when Dimitri dies. When he marries Mercedes, Bernie, or Dorothea, he becomes the king's right-hand and travels across Fódlan with Dimitri. He spends a lot of time away from Bernie. Dorothea has to accompany him on the battlefield to get quality time.

His ending with Leonie is not romantic and they just become drinking buddies. In his ending with Ingrid, he gives up the sword when he's injured and does not regret it. The only two female paired endings that don't mention warfare, swords, or knighthood are Annette and Lysithea. But it felt like the joke was that he actually fell in love with he singing, not Annette herself. And with Lysithea, she dies young and leaves behind her cake recipe.

Felix: You're not cut out to be a knight. How about you start seriously looking for a marriage partner? Ingrid: …What's that supposed to mean? Felix: Just as I said. Ingrid: I understand that you dislike things like chivalry and knightly pride. Just because of that, you keep running away from your duty as the heir of the house… You have no right to speak so high and mighty.

In Japanese Felix did tell Ingrid to go find a husband, but he used the word "結婚相手" (kekkon aite) instead of "夫" (otto) which means husband. "Kekkon aite" refers to someone whom you are seriously considering as a potential marriage partner but may not be formally engaged to or married yet. He wasn't telling her to go find the next man to offer a huge dowry and immediately get engaged.

He was saying that she would be better off dating, finding a serious partner that she loves, and eventually getting married. He did not say this in a disparaging way. He didn't want her to end up like Glenn nor did he want her to blindly follow the orders of a king who he considered bloodthirsty. He genuinely thought that being a wife would be a safer and more fulfilling lifestyle than being a knight.

Dimitri & Felix Dimitri formally succeeded to the throne of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus after his coronation, dedicating his lifetime to the governance and reform of Fódlan. Behind many of his achievements stood Felix, the Duke of Fraldarius, who sometimes acted as the king's right-hand man and at other times served as his advisor. Bound by a lifelong steadfast friendship, it is said that Felix mourned more intensely at Dimitri's passing than even the queen herself. The tale of their lives, akin to the legendary Lion King Loog and his sworn friend Kyphon, will be passed down through the ages as one of the stories that adorn the history of Fódlan.

In any case, Felix was projecting his own feelings onto Ingrid. If you pair her with Dimitri, it says she supported him as a wife and queen, but still insisted on fighting on the front lines in battle like a knight. If you pair Felix with Dimitri, it says he mourned the king's death more than the queen. Ya know, the wife. Chivalry promotes homoromantic social bonding among men. Rodrigue had a wife and kids, but he devoted his life to a married (presumably heterosexual) man. He used his position as "sworn friend" of the king to fill the void of an actual gay relationship. He lost his reason for living when Lambert died. In this ending, Felix ends up following in his father's footsteps. I don't think that's a satisfying ending for him.

Dimitri/Felix: "彼らは生涯固い友情で結ばれ" means "They were bound by a lifelong strong friendship." This phrase emphasizes the steadfast and enduring nature of their friendship. The word "固い" means "firm" or "strong," implying a friendship that is resilient and unwavering. Sylvain/Felix: "生涯無二の友であり続けた" means "They remained lifelong inseparable friends." This phrase emphasizes the unique and unparalleled nature of their friendship. The term "無二" means "unparalleled" or "incomparable," suggesting that their bond was extraordinary and unmatched.

I would also like to compare the descriptions of friendship in the Dimitri/Felix ending to the Sylvain/Felix ending. Both phrases convey a deep sense of friendship, but they emphasize slightly different aspects. Dimitri/Felix emphasizes the enduring strength and solidity of their bond. In terms of depth, Sylvain/Felix carries a stronger sense of exclusivity and uniqueness in their friendship.

The term "無二" was also used in Ingrid's AM paired endings with Ashe and Dedue. Her arc was about belonging to herself, not a man. She wanted to go down in history as a knight, not as a wife. For that reason, her AM paired endings with Ashe and Dedue don't specify her marital status. But the writers still wanted to suggest that she and her male partner were possibly lovers. Since it can also mean “inseparable” in certain contexts, "無二" was chosen for their bond.

Felix & Sylvain (AM) Felix, who succeeded his deceased father Rodrigue as Duke Fraldarius, and Sylvain, who inherited the title of Margrave Gautier after his father's passing, both devoted their efforts to the restoration and prosperity of the Kingdom. Even amidst their busy days, their friendship never wavered. Felix would occasionally show up at the Gautier family's residence and insult Sylvain, and Sylvain, in turn, would visit the Fraldarius house frequently, solely to tease Felix. Throughout their lives, they remained inseparable friends, and there is even an anecdote that they coincidentally passed away on the same day.

In this ending, both men inherit their fathers' titles, but neither of them is forced to fulfill their unwanted patriarchal duty. Their bond is characterized by mutual devotion, not chivalry or bloodline. Their relationship effectively goes back to how it was when they were kids. He apparently made peace with Sreng as Sylvain is free to go where he wants and spends his life with someone he loves, not just someone he can have Crest babies with. While he becomes a famous cheater in his solo ending, and a renowned lord in his others, here historians remember him most for his closeness with Felix.

Like Rodrigue, Felix wished to live and die alongside another man. When paired with most of his wives, he becomes the king's right-hand, a role that would require him to wield a sword and travel. But not in this ending. He stays in Fraldarius territory so he can be available for frequent surprise visits. Sylvain was his true purpose in life, and neither can live without the other. And to me, that is the ideal ending to both of their character arcs. The Shield of Faerghus died like a true knight. "The Shield's Successor" died like a true wife.

[reccyls]

Azel chapter 19 premium story

My translation of Azel's chapter 19 premium story. This is where he speaks about his past to Emma, so please do note the content warnings for child abuse & violence

---

Every beginning comes with a matching end. Everything that comes to pass eventually fades from memory, disappears, and becomes something that remains only in dreams. That day may arrive sooner than we think. Soon enough that there is no time to prepare.

...

Azel: I recommend that you leave Tanzanite before the next full moon, Young Akatsuki.

(Huh...?)

Prince Azel spoke calmly after he took a sip of his Zel-Tea. Akatsuki's gaze steadily met that of the all-knowing, all-seeing God.

Akatsuki: ...Things will take a turn for the worse?

Azel: Yes, and quickly.

(...If even Tanzanite's God says so...)

The moon was about half-full tonight. There was little time left until the full moon.

(The riot from before was still only a small one...) (If the situation really will get worse, then the military could be called in.) (Once the royal family starts cracking down on the protests, that's only going to escalate things.) (I hope things don't come to that.)

Thoughts of the doomsday prophecy, the topic on everyone's lips, ran through my mind. I could barely taste my own cup of Zel-Tea.

Akatsuki: I appreciate the warning.

Azel: I've said this before, no? Emma has served me well. Azel: This advice is thanks for her service. However... Azel: If word got out that God had made such a declaration of misfortune, it would lead to even more unrest among the people. Azel: So let's keep this discussion between just us, shall we?

(...If things really descend into civil war...) (Will Prince Azel be okay?)

...

(...) (......) (I can't sleep at all...)

I gave up on trying to fall asleep and opened my eyes, still curled up on the bed. But the sight that greeted me wasn't the star-dotted ceiling, but Prince Azel's eyes.

(......!?)

Azel: Wha-

He seemed just as surprised as I was, and all but leaped backwards.

Azel: If you were awake, don't just lie there quietly, say something! You nearly gave me a heart attack!

Emma: W-what were you doing?

Azel: You have it all wrong, I wasn't doing anything.

(...Well it really looked like he was staring at me while he thought I was asleep...)

I continued to stare at him. After a few more silent seconds, Prince Azel raised both of his hands as if to say "look, I'm innocent!" and turned away.

Azel: I didn't do anything bad. Azel: I was just... you were disturbing me, so I was moving you closer to the edge of the bed.

(Oh, right. I do always end up near the middle of the bed when I wake up all the time.)

I always tried to sleep on the edge of the bed so I didn't take up too much space. But I usually woke up the next morning in the middle.

Emma: I'm sorr-

(Wait, no. That's weird.) (There's no way that I'd end up shuffling to the middle every night, right? Especially not if Prince Azel keeps moving me back.)

Azel was very deliberately not looking at me.

Emma: ...It's the opposite, isn't it?

Azel: No it's not, why would it be the opposite, that's absurd, why would I move you to the middle, you're mistaken.

Emma: So it is the opposite.

Azel: ......

(This isn't the first time I've felt all warm and ticklish inside.)

Emma: Thank you. For tonight, and all the other times too.

Perhaps giving up on trying to deny it any longer, Prince Azel moved back closer to the bed with a sulky look on his face.

Azel: Don't get the wrong idea-

Emma: You're going to charge me a "Move to the Center of the Bed" fee?

Azel: ...Yes. I'll add it to your debt.

He picked up one of the nearby books and lay on his stomach as he began to read. It was probably his way of trying to end the conversation. I shuffled more to the side to give him more space, but I couldn't stop looking at him. His profile as he read was as handsome as the magnificent statue that stood in the main market square. At a first glance, he was every bit the distant, cold god the statue depicted. But Prince Azel always showed kindness in the times it was needed. He was a money-grubbing scumbag of a god who worked me like a slave... But his awkward compassion still put a smile on my face. --And I could feel my heart start to race.

(I still can't sleep. But now it's for a different reason.)

As I continued to stare, the frown on his face deepened, a wrinkle forming between his brow. He reached out to pinch my cheek.

Azel: Go to sleep already. I can't concentrate because you're staring too loudly.

Emma: Can you talk to me until I fall asleep?

Azel: No.

Emma: I have something I want to ask you. I'm really curious.

Azel: I just said no.

But despite his words, hs fingers stopped turning pages. It showed that he was listening to me.

(See? I know he's a kind person.) (So then why...)

Emma: ...Why don't you love your people?

Azel: What?

Emma: You were the one who told me that before.

(flashback) Azel: To be loved is a nuisance. And God does not love the people either.

Emma: You don't hate people. Emma: You care. You never turn away anyone who comes to see you at your temple, and you always treat people gently with a smile. Emma: To me, it looks like you do love the people of Tanzanite.

Azel: ...I had thought that Rhodolite's Belle was supposed to have good judgment. Azel: You've so grossly misunderstood me that I might actually be sick.

He closed his book and then pinched my cheek again.

Azel: I have always been Tanzanite's God Incarnate ever since I was born. Azel: People looked to me for hope and to hear my prophecies. Azel: They were looking to an infant for guidance.

Emma: Since you were that young?

Azel: Yes. My mother knelt before my crib, and my father was a fanatical believer. Azel: Of course, I have no memories of this time. I wasn't even a year old. Azel: But according to my brothers, I was forced to use talismans to tell people's fortunes. Azel: It wasn't prophecy. It was pure blind luck. A baby was telling fortunes by randomly picking out cards from a set.

Emma: That's absurd.

Azel: The people of Tanzanite don't have your common sense. Azel: They entrusted their lives, their country... everything. They left everything up to an infant.

Prince Azel let go and rested his chin on his hand.

Azel: The older I became, the more was asked of me. Azel: People worship god because they believe that their futures are already determined by those fortunes. Azel: And more importantly, it was so easy for them. They didn't even have to think for themselves, didn't have to make a single decision on their own.

(...I had known that things were sort of like this. But giving up all choices and entrusting everything to god... that's unthinkable to me.) (Making choices comes with responsibility.)

As Belle, my choices had helped to determine Rhodolite's future. If the king I chose brought the country to ruin, then that would be my responsiblity.

(How many more decisions like this has Prince Azel had to make for others?) (And how much blame will fall on his shoulders if any of those go wrong?)

Emma: ...Did you ever hate it?

Azel: Every day. That's why I acted out once. Azel: Well, I say that. But it was both of my brothers' decision. Azel: Enis and my eldest brother must have felt sorry for me, the same way you do now.

Azel: So one day, the three of us ran away from the palace and hid in these ruins. Azel: There were no adults around. No one aside from the three of us. It was the first time they could treat me like their brother. Azel: I never knew that being treated as just another "person" could feel so good. Azel: ...So much so that I made a mistake in judgment. I should have pushed for us to return to the palace before we were discovered. Azel: Our father sent soldiers out to find us when we were discovered to be missing. It didn't take them very long. Azel: And then...

Azel's hands clenched the sheets.

Azel: My father had my brothers' nails ripped out. He whipped them until they bled, and hanged them from the ceiling of a freezing cold cell for three days and three nights.

Emma: ...!

(That's... that's just...) (That wasn't discipline. That's torture.)

Azel: I was just a child. I couldn't do anything but scream and cry, begging my father to stop. But he didn't. Azel: "Everything I do is for your sake," he told me. He was smiling as he hurt my brothers. Azel: ...I haven't been able to stand the sight of blood from that day.

Hearing the pain hidden behind Azel's matter-of-fact tone, I placed my hand over his. I was barely thinking. I just wanted to try to soothe his pain no matter what.

Emma: ...That's horrible.

Azel: Nobody stopped my father. Azel: Because he believed in god, because he loved god, everything he did for god's sake was justified.

Azel uncurled his fists, without moving my hand away.

Azel: Since then, Enis has never been able to speak out against our father. He no longer sees me as his younger brother. Azel: Our eldest brother was the mastermind behind our escape plan. So he was exiled from Tanzanite. Azel: I still call myself the Second Prince out of stubbornness. Azel: My eldest brother still holds the title of First Prince to this day so that the old man will always remember how much I hate him.

(...So that was it.)

(flashback) Azel: It's fine. The old man is in his sanctuary today. Azel: No one is here to punish you for breaking from decorum for a while. Enis: ...All right.

Emma: When you say your father... Emma: You mean the Apostle?

As if in confirmation, Azel gripped my hand tightly.

Azel: You have always felt there was something off about him, haven't you? Azel: It impressed me. Not many can look behind his mask to see the madman beneath.

(The more I hear, the more it sounds like...)

Azel: People worship me as a god, but that is just a convenient illusion for their sakes.

Azel: The true identity of Tanzanite's God Incarnate... Azel: ...is just a pathetic, helpless slave.

All I could do was to hold his hand tightly in return.

Azel: You asked why god does not love his people. Here is your answer. Azel: They all claim to love god... Azel: They believe that just because they hold that feeling called love, they can do whatever they want, that their every action is justified. Azel: He who succumbs to "love" is driven to incurable insanity. Azel: Love is a curse.

(I feel like... I've heard this somewhere before...)

The vaguest memory of a dream washed over me.

Azel: That is why I will never love anyone. Azel: Never insinuate such a thing ever again.

Emma: But... Emma: That "love", isn't truly love.

(Not the kind of love that I know.) (I think this is where that sense of discomfort is coming from.)

Emma: Something that causes you such pain can't be love. Emma: The love that you speak of is just violence masquerading as love.

At my declaration, Azel's eyes seemed to glimmer challengingly in the moonlight.

Azel: So, what is it supposed to be?

(What is love supposed to be...)

It's a question that I've been struggling to answer myself. But if compassion and kindness are just a few of love's faces, then I knew of many examples.

Emma: It's like when you stay up late to talk wth me because I can't sleep.

Azel: ...What?

Emma: And like when you made dinner for me because I was tired. Emma: And when you got a cloth for me to dry my tears because I was crying. Emma: And moving me back to the middle of the bed every night so I don't fall off in my sleep... Emma: I think those are examples of love.

Azel: ...... Azel: So you're trying to insult me?

Emma: How'd you get that idea!?

Azel: What do you mean, how!? What else could it be? Azel: It's like you're saying that I love you.

Emma: -ah.

(Okay those might have been kind of presumptuous examples...) (But those were the first things that came to mind!)

Azel: I'm adding three zeroes to the end of your debt.

Emma: Those were just examples! Examples!

Azel's face was bright red, unmistakeable even in the dim light.

(...Is he that embarrassed...?)

The examples I had thrown out without much thought now seemed to take on a deeper meaning. My thoughts began to turn towards expectation. After an awkward silence, Azel reached out to grab my head and pulled it towards his chest.

Azel: Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep now.

Emma: I can't breathe! I'm not going to sleep, I'm going to pass out!

At my flailing, Azel's grip loosened. But he didn't let go of me entirely, and his arms settled around my waist. He was probably just trying to stop me from looking at his face, but this was causing my own face to heat up.

(This is exactly the kind of thing that's making everyone misunderstand our situation!)

Azel: I'm going to make one thing clear. Azel: Everything I do is for the sake of making money. I have never done a single thing because of you. Azel: The next time you start talking about love or anything of the sort, I'll curse you into your next life.

(.......This is bad.)

Azel's words said one thing. His heartbeat said another. Maybe a god's heart just naturally beat faster than a human's. But regardless... The racing pulse I could feel from his chest was contagious.

(I probably shouldn't point that out, or else he's going to make me pass out for real.)

So although I didn't feel like sleeping, I closed my eyes. I don't know whether he realized it or not, but I could feel his hands gently stroking my back. Perhaps all of this was just god having pity on me because I told him he couldn't sleep.

(...But I feel like I'll be able to find the answer I've been searching for, if I'm with Prince Azel.) (What is true love?)

...

After some time had passed, Azel heard Emma's breaths even out in slumber and he shifted away. Unlike before, there was no indication she was awake. Her breaths dissipated into the desert air.

Azel: ...Good. You're finally asleep. Azel: And now I'm the one who can't sleep.

His complaining was met with only silence. Sighing, he pulled the blanket further up around them. Now wrapped snugly in a warm blanket to guard against the cold night air, Emma shifted in her sleep to curl around the blanket, clutching it tight and moving away from Azel. He frowned at the sight.

Azel: ...I'm definitely warmer than a blanket.

He reached out to her, hesitated, pulled back, and repeated this cycle over and over again for some time. But at last, he finally pulled her back close to him.

Azel: ...Being around you turns me into such a fool. Azel: ... Azel: But no sweet dream lasts forever.

Azel: What happens here will fade away to memory and into dreams, for both you and me. Azel: ...I've suffered so much at the hands of this thing called love. Azel: But at least you will be able to live without such pain. Azel: To be loved is to take the first step into hell.

And then, he pressed a gentle kiss to Emma's forehead, as if in prayer.

[yeoosaangg]

៹ ALL MINE || KINKTOBER ─ DAY 19

➛ PAIRING:: LEE JENO × FEM!READER

➛ NOW PLAYING:: ALL MINE — PLAZA

⤷ ❝MAN, I DIDN'T WANT THIS ALL, BELIEVE ME. I WOULD'VE BEEN SO GONE, BUT HER SEX SO STRONG.❞

➛ GENRE:: BOYFRIEND'S!BESTFRIEND, NON-IDOL!AU, SMUT

➛ WARNINGS:: SIZE KINK, BREEDING KINK, DEGRADATION, GETTING CAUGHT, INFIDELITY, ROUGH SEX, SPITTING, THROAT FUCKING

── ⋆ ⋆ ── 𔘓 ── ⋆ ⋆ ──

Jeno did not expect for this to go as long as it has.

You're his best friend's girlfriend, yet he folded the second you showed interest in him.

You are his own personal drug.

No matter how hard he tried to stay away, he comes crawling back when you ask him to.

And he can't help but love the fact that you're smaller than him. His hands and body engulf you, and it has his dick jumping for more.

That's why he's currently got you pinned against your boyfriend's mattress.

Just like he's always had you.

You're a moaning mess as he slams his giant cock into your tight hole. His hands push your legs against your chest, fingers digging into your flesh with a hiss.

Jeno: You're such a fucking whore, Y/n. Getting fucked dumb by your boyfriend's best friend. What if he were to come back early, hm?

You knew it was risky, always luring Jeno into his roommate's bedroom to fuck you. But you don't care anymore.

You just want him so bad.

Jeno: My cock keeps opening you up, baby. Soon, it'll fit me perfectly. You'd like that, wouldn't you? To be my personal cocksleeve?

You scream, clawing at the sheets below you as he pins you down in a mating press.

There's something about the way your mouth falls open with broken moans slipping out that keeps his cock hard. He just keeps fucking you deeper into the mattress, hips bruising your ass.

Both of you cum for the third time that night.

He moans into your mouth as he fills your cunt again, mixing with his other two loads inside you.

Jeno: What'll Jaemin think when you get pregnant, Y/n? Don't think I'd just let you run around playing house with my fucking kid.

You're crying in oversensitivity. He still doesn't pull away for you to take a much needed break. But he also knows that if you truly wanted him to get off, you'd call the safe word.

Jeno: He'll understand, won't he? Why the kid will look like me instead of him? Why your slutty cunt doesn't get wet for him anymore?

His weight on top of you was too much, but the way his cock hits the deepest part of your insides has you drooling all over yourself.

Jeno: Can't speak now, can you? Where's the bitch that was begging me to fuck her two hours ago?

You whine, squeezing your tits as he sits up and pushes your legs over his shoulders.

He presses his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as he pumps his cock along your dripping walls. He kisses you deeply, both of you moaning in each other's mouth.

He feels you squeeze his cock, squirting all over him again. He smirks against your lips as he pulls out of your swollen pussy.

You whine at the loss of his cock, but gasp when he straddles your head.

Jeno: Come on, baby. Put your mouth to good use as my cum drips out of your cunt.

You obediently open your mouth for him to fuck your face. He always gets surprised at your lack of gag reflex - it just adds to his desire to destroy you.

His hips stutter against your nose, holding onto your hair so he can get as deep down your throat as possible. You look up at him with droopy eyes, moaning on his cock.

Jeno: You're so fucking nasty. Look at you letting me abuse your face.

He bites his lip, not breaking the eye contact as he shoots another load down your throat. The hard look in his eyes as he continues thrusting his hips has you cumming untouched.

He pulls away, grabbing your chin harshly. He spits in your mouth and demands you to swallow. You obey, opening your mouth for him to see that you listened.

Jeno: Good girl.

Jaemin: What the fuck?

Oh shit.

═══

a/n: i wonder if anyone's gonna notice what i did... ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ thank you for reading ‹𝟹

[nanamiscocksleeve]

19. WITH NANAMI I AM BEGGING

Your hands are pawing at his clothes, quickly shedding them off as he does the same for you. Your lips clash hotly against each other, moaning as you guide each other towards the bedroom.

As you get to his shirt, your fingers halt for a second, thinking. You loosen the knot of his tie, coherent thoughts going out the window as he circles your clit through your soaked panties.

Leaving the loosened slip of fabric in place you start doing the rest of the shirt buttons.

"Are your thoughts so far gone that you can't undo my tie?" he asks teasingly.

You pull his shirt off his shoulders, the tie laying bare on his chest.

"No. I'd rather you leave it on." You grab the end and yank, pulling him down to your level and give him a searing kiss, relishing his gasp of surprise.

[natequarter]

i really do have a lot of ideas for timeblr

0 notes

🎉 yourbutchgirlfriend Follow

hey did you guys know the doctor does crack cocaine

🔫 thebrigadier Follow

This is the least surprising thing I've heard all day.

📑 anordinaryjournalist Follow

Wait he what??

📝 professorsurprise Follow

you mean you guys have never seen the doctor high? damn

🔫 thebrigadier Follow

Not "high" as such, but I have met him.

🎉 yourbutchgirlfriend Follow

you guys know i was joking right. just because he was caught with crack cocaine doesn't mean he does it!!!

📝 professorsurprise Follow

i'd say i have questions but like i say he very much does do drugs

#pour one out for the brigadier he seems totally done #also his voice is weirdly similar to that one time my cat learnt to speak

19 notes

Anon asked: what on gallifrey do you mean "that time my cat learnt to speak"

📝 professorsurprise Follow

hey these things happen sometimes

#benny answers #strictly speaking it wasn't so much that he learnt how to speak as #actually nvm i'll leave that story for another time

78 notes

🌊 raggedyfan Follow

save me raggedy man

🌊 raggedyfan Follow

raggedy man

🌊 raggedyfan Follow

raggedy man... save me..

6 notes

🌈 ijustwanttobeabotanist Follow

and then math boy EXPLODED. many are saying this

🪨 vislorturlough Follow

it's maths boy

🌈 ijustwanttobeabotanist Follow

why do you care you're from another planet

✈️ donewiththisshit573 Follow

😐

#this is not it guys

39 notes

🌹 normalwifeguy Follow

It's not that I want to die but sometimes it would just be nice to stay dead, you get me? Like ok. Fine. I have to die all the time. At least make it stick one of these days

📘 bossycontrolfreak Follow

this but i actually want to die

🌹 normalwifeguy Follow

In the nicest way possible... make your own post. Or go to a therapist. This post is about getting unwritten from reality, not suicidal behaviour.

👑 fred Follow

are you insinuating people who get unwritten from reality shouldn't be allowed to kill themselves? this post is really offensive, to be honest. some of us are suicidal AND we want to stay dead and that's just as valid a perspective

🌹 normalwifeguy Follow

What the fuck.

#I give up.

22 notes

💣 commiedyke Follow

anyone think the pforessor looks an awful lot like timothy chalamet

#IM JUST SAYING #ace speaks

2 notes

🚬 fitz-crier Follow

iwant him ti put a baby in mr

#i maay be drink #hes si fucking pretty thiguh #its noy just me right

0 notes

🏏 the--adventurer5 Follow

I miss my wife, Tails. I miss her a lot.

⚰️ themaster Follow

you mean you miss your *boyfriend

🏏 the--adventurer5 Follow

I assure you I do not.

⚰️ themaster Follow

well you should

🏏 the--adventurer5 Follow

I legitimately hope you die.

13 notes

⚰️ themaster Follow

consul-tremas -> themaster

plz reblog to help me find my moots!!!

62 notes

🚬 fitz-crier Follow

gay sex isknt eounough i need him to vivisectt me.

0 notes

👑 fred Follow

the doctor was right when he said pizza tastes best when you're hungry

👑 fred Follow

when you're starving

👑 fred Follow

i think i'm gonna die here guys

⚔️ warqueenextraordinaire Follow

...looking back on it, I do not recall Etra Prime having Wi-Fi.

29 notes

[songmingisthighs]

Whatcha Gonna Do About It ?

group : ateez

pairing : brat!wooyoung × milf!reader

genre : smut

wc : 3.3 k

tw : mdni, explicit smut, age difference (legal ofc), unprotected sex (std ew), wooyoung being annoying, reader in her mid-to-late 30s, wooyoung calling reader mommy, masturbation (m), wooyoung in some sort of a sub space ? but like... brat, slapping like.. twice?, creampie

a/n : requested by anon and part of my milf deal with @luvt0kki !! >:D

buy me coffee ?

Warm sun, cold drink, the soft murmur of people by the pool of the country club, sometimes you appreciate your husband for moments like this.

Well, ex-husband.

While you made peace with the fact that your marriage ended years before, the divorce still brought a bitter taste in your mouth. Years spent with that asshole and he had the gall to come to you with the bimbo who couldn't even spell the word 'homewrecker' without writing it with a crayon, asking for you to help him raise the baby as the girl was willing to get paid to let go of maternal responsibilities and instead get paid to go to beauty school. Served you right for letting your parents set you with him when you were still so young just for the money. Safe to say you got the penthouse, the luxury and the community while he got the bill and the 19-year-old high school dropout with a baby on the way. Not even your son who idolized his father wants to have anything to do with his father and while your ex said it was just him being a 12-year-old, you knew better. So while your ex had to redo his whole life and regain his credibility, you were left simmering in unresolved anger and frustration. Though by the poolside, in your ridiculously expensive bikini that you bought just to piss your ex off, you found the experience rather pleasant.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here,"

Speaking of children.

Barely giving him a glance, you took a sip of your mojito and adjusted your sunglasses, "Hello, Wooyoung," you greeted half-heartedly.

Jung Wooyoung is someone you want to avoid when you're at the club. He's a notorious tease and a player and everyone knows it but has no means to stop him due to his influential family. He treats girls his age like a plaything so when he started to get close to you a couple months ago when your divorce was finalized, you didn't bat an eye. Maybe he was just bored, maybe he wanted to rile you up, or maybe he wanted to see how many demographics his good looks can affect because while he's relentless and annoying, he's VERY easy on the eyes and smooth with his words. No wonder there was a long line of broken hearts that seemed to always trail behind him.

"Surprised to see you here today," he sat himself down on your pool chaise, right next to your hip, "I heard you went to the Komodo Island for healing. And to think you'd just stick with your husband if you wanted to be close to something dangerous and cold-blooded," he smirked. While his jab at your ex amused you, you tried your best to not show any reaction by taking another sip of your drink before shrugging, "I went there to see the construction of the villa I invested in. Why? Thought you could get me to give you free access?" "Well," he pursed his lips and turned his body towards you, allowing you to trail your (thankfully sunglass-covered) eyes on the smooth expanse of his chest and watch droplets of water race down his skin, "I'd love a free access, but not to your villa. If you get what I mean," he coyly stated.

You could feel your cheeks warm up but having had enough you stood up straight and got your face close to him (much to his delight). "Okay, little boy, you think you can play with the sad divorcee? Is that it? You think someone like you can do more damage to someone like me?" You jabbed a finger at his tanned chest that now that you were so close to him, you could see how delicious it looked, "You're nothing, boy. You're just a tease with a big mouth," you hissed.

Much to your surprise, he was looking at you with such intrigue and when you looked into his eyes, you noticed the slight teasing glint in them that made you swallow a lump in your throat.

"You think I'm all talk?" He chuckled condescendingly as his hand suddenly found your shin. The touch was electrifying and it sent a sharp tingle up your spine which you found delightful as much as you had to admit. Your heart started beating harshly against your ribcage when said hand trailed upwards slowly, brushing against your inner thigh before it jumped to the hand on his chest, gently wrapping his larger palm around your hand. How can veins be hot? What are you, a mosquito?

"You think I just have a big mouth?" he teased again with voice at a lower register that drew you into a hazed state until he brought your palm to his lips, kissing the skin around your pulse point to the pads of your fingers, "Don't you know that it's good to have a big mouth?" Your eyes widened and your mouth involuntarily let out a gasp when he shoved your index and middle finger into his mouth. His mouth was warm and you could feel his tongue circling your digits which sent your core clenching and leaking arousal, suddenly imagining the muscle somewhere... Lower.

"You've been treated so bad, so I want to treat you right. But you seem to think that all I want to do is use you once and that hurt me..." He leaned close abruptly, sending you reeling to an almost lying position had it not for one of your elbows supporting your weight, "Mommy."

The name triggered something in you and as if on instinct, the hand that was in his grasp slipped away and grabbed at his throat, pressing on his jugular as you pushed him slightly away. "Did you just fucking call me 'mommy'?" you growled, glaring at him.

Wooyoung had always considered you hot and sexy but seeing you like this at a proximity this close, made his cock twitch and hands itching to pull the flimsy ties by your hips. "Yeah, whatcha gonna do about it?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Everything was a blur, you didn't know what exactly happened but you somehow managed to pull Wooyoung into a private cabana without getting seen (or at least you hoped no one saw) after what he had just done and in a blink of an eye, you found yourself i your current position.

"Aww, I thought you said you weren't just all talk," you pouted at Wooyoung mockingly.

Scowling, Wooyoung moved his hand faster on his cock, trying to get himself off in front of you while you stood on your knees on the daybed in front of him, an unamused look on your face. "I am," he hissed from annoyance and stimulation mixed with frustration because though he was getting some relief, it was not from you and you were just standing there as if mocking him with your presence. Seeing him in such a state, clear annoyance with an obvious blush that betrayed his demeanour somehow made you feel powerful, confident, beyond sexy. Even with your husband, whenever either of you initiated sex, the feeling was never this... thrilling. "So? You just can't cum? You're all talk and so pathetic, Wooyoung. How are you supposed to fuck me like you said you would, like you said I deserved when you can't even do it to yourself?" you scoffed, rolling your eyes which made Wooyoung let out a sharp exhale.

You had to admit, you liked the sight of Wooyoung stark naked with his knees slightly bent and legs spread wide. Seeing from the way your eyes fell from his own gaze to his twitching cock, and the way you bite your bottom lip, Wooyoung was aware that you liked what you saw and it made his back arch as if to make a big showcase of his pleasure. Your pussy was practically drenched seeing the hot twenty-four-year-old trying so hard to please himself to please you what with beads of sweat and remnants of pool water that slowly seeped into the cushions underneath him. He was glowing. You couldn't believe that a guy like him wanted you to the point of throwing himself at you like an idiot.

"Mommy, come on," he moaned, dropping his chest back, "I'm touching myself to you so the least you can do is pop those pretty titties out to help me cum because now that I have you in front of me, I need it, I need it bad," he whined, trying to inch his body closer to yours only for you to drop your hands on his knees, securing his position. Wooyoung halted his movements when he saw your tits dangling in front of him, the flimsy fabric couldn't hide your hardened nipples and the sight of them bouncing and jiggling at the slightest movements made his eyes widen and mouth drool.

Despite his Neanderthal-like vocabulary and crass expression, you felt flattered and as weird as it is, you found a unique charm in that. "You think you deserve to see my tits, boy?" you smirked, crawling closer to him until you sat yourself on the tops of his knees with legs caging his comfortably. Wooyoung's eyes automatically dropped lower to the space between your legs, taking note of the dark patch that had formed and smirked, happy that you were turned on seeing him put on a show for you. Slowly, he started stroking himself again, this time putting more pressure in his grip, "Of course, I do, mommy. If you let me suck one of them, I'll even pound your pussy to next Thursday," he smugly said.

Scoffing, you pulled one side of your bikini top, revealing your left tit to him and his jaw comically dropped. You could see from his eyes the way his pupils followed the movement hungrily as if being hypnotized and you couldn't help but laugh at him mockingly, "Oh my God, are you that affected by the sight of breasts? What are you, a virgin?" You taunted. Wooyoung's eyebrows furrowed and his lips pouted as his eyes darted to glare straight at yours, "How can I be a virgin? You've seen girls I slept with," he huffed with cheeks tinted slightly red. "Well you sure are acting like you've never seen a woman's naked body before which is so sad," you faked a pout before moving to reveal your other tit to him. You saw his chest shake as a rumble passed his throat and his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed his saliva. "Fuck, you're so hot," he whined, trying to reach for your body only to have you slap his hands away with a hiss, "Did I tell you that you could touch me without permission?"

Dissatisfied, Wooyoung whined loudly and was about to protest when he felt something tweaking his cock. "What?" you smirked, letting your finger tweak his tip again which caused him to choke on his breath a little. "Pathetic," you spat after clicking your tongue, expressing disappointment as you grabbed him from the base and squeezed.

He didn't know why, he didn't know how, but the combination of your treatment on him got him cumming on your hand. Your eyes twinkled with intrigue as you watched spurts of white liquid spray from his tip, hitting your exposed tits as his back arched with a slight tremble and his head thrown back. For once, you appreciated the sound he made; a whimpered moan that sounded slightly muffled as if he was holding himself back by keeping his lips tightly sealed. "Now, now, don't hold back on me," you teased, pinching the tip harshly. His thighs tensed from the sudden stimulation as his jaw slackened letting the voice he had held back finally out. You were not sure what but maybe it was the reality that you were being physically intimate with a man a lot younger than you or the possibility of getting caught by passerby separated by the tent because Wooyoung was being loud or a mixture of both, but you felt a pleasant chill ran down your spine straight to your aching cunt.

In his haze, Wooyoung barely noticed you crawling up and situated yourself on his lap, your heated but unfortunately still covered core pressed on his flaccid cock. Wooyoung's eyes rolled into his head when he felt you starting to roll your hips on him. The anticipation had eaten away through him and the barest minimum of contact made him almost nut right at that moment. But with sheer will, he pushed through and decided to enjoy himself first.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this," Wooyoung grunted as he felt his dick coming back to life almost instantaneously, "Fuck, I want to make my mommy feel good," he moaned shakily when he felt the wet patch on your bikini bottom rub against him, giving him friction from the friction and warmth. You couldn't deny the fact that hearing someone as young as Wooyoung lusting after you made you so aroused that you were practically clenching at nothing which was stupid because his cock was there and it wouldn't take much for him to get fully hard again. Even if he wasn't fully hard, you were sure that you could get him inside you without any issue. Why were you torturing yourself instead of torturing the guy under you?

At that point, you had had enough of messing around, you wanted him in you and you wanted him right then and there. Wooyoung's eyes followed your every movement like a predator watching its prey which was ironic since you hold the reigns. When you pulled on one of the strings of your bikini bottom, Wooyoung couldn't help but think of it like a present being opened because the moment your bare pussy came to view, he accidentally let a word slip past him. "Want," he whimpered with eyes still glued on your pussy like an idiot. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from saying something snarky because frankly, you were enjoying the attention. "Yeah? You want mommy's pussy, baby?" you teased, returning to rubbing yourself on Wooyoung.

With each movement, the fabric of your bikini bottom ruffled which allowed your bare cunt to make direct contact with Wooyoung's bare cock. The feeling and built-up expectation seemed to be too much for Wooyoung as his back arched and eyes rolled back into his head. You had to admit that you had never seen a prettier sight than the one that was oh so freely given to you by Wooyoung. Taking advantage of Wooyoung's state, you grabbed his hardening dick and positioned it at your entrance and began descending until your hip met his.

"Oh- fuck!" Wooyoung grunted, his body jolting which was followed by his abdominal muscles tensing as if he had just been punched in the gut, winded simply by your pussy. Seeing this, you could only smirk not just because you didn't want to ruin the moment but also because you thought that nothing could beat the cocky look on your face.

Wooyoung's pleasure doubled the moment you started moving against him. Your more experienced hips moved in a way that allowed his cock to slip in and out without slipping out but also kept your lower halves connected. "Shit- fuck, mommy!" he gasped loudly which prompted you to slap him and grab ahold of his cheeks in one hand. "Keep your voice down, Wooyoung, no one can find out what we're doing here," you hissed, leaning down close to warn him. You hadn't meant to be so harsh but that action seemed to rile Wooyoung up even more because once you let go of his face, a depraved smile appeared on his face and he let out a content sigh, "Fuck mommy, if only you'd let me let people know how good you're using me right now," you felt the soles of his feet planted flat on the surface of the daybed and he began meeting your thrusts which almost caused you to fall on top of him, "God, Jesus, you feel so good mommy, your cunt is so perfect, I want to never stop fucking it, holy shit," goosebumps shot up your spine when Wooyoung grazed his hands on the sides of your legs and they kept moving upwards until they settled on his chest. Your eyes widened and you instinctively licked your bottom lip when Wooyoung began tweaking his nipples.

Somehow the pace you both set never faltered but you felt Wooyoung thrusting into you harder than you had initially done but it wasn't like you were about to complain.

It didn't take long before you felt Wooyoung's movements become frantic and you realized that he was about to cum again. Before Wooyoung could do anything else, you reached forward and grabbed his face again, prompting him to look at you, "You don't get to cum yet, pretty boy, I'm cumming first and then you'll wait until I told you that you could cum." Wooyoung pouted and whined, "Mommy why? I need to cum, please." You had to think that he was purposefully being loud to get you to slap him again because when you did, you swore you could see him smirking. "Weren't you a good boy? You can make me cum just with your cock, can't you? Or are you that pathetic that the woman had to do everything, huh?" your taunts successfully egged Wooyoung as he determinedly thrust into you. His face was scrunched and his movements were sloppy, beads of sweat started trickling down his face and the lack of changing expression on your face seemed to frustrate him.

You casually slipped your thumb into his mouth and pressed down on his tongue, "Don't you give me that look," you scoffed, "You talk big but you can't deliver, huh? Pathetic." Wooyoung tried whining again but this time you pressed your thumb more onto his tongue, not caring about the drool that accumulated and trickled down the sides of Wooyoung's mouth.

Maybe deep down you had a thing for pliable brats because, for some reason, the sight of your harsh treatment on Wooyoung got you fucking yourself quicker and quicker until your cunt clenched down on Wooyoung as you came.

The sudden tightness sent Wooyoung reeling and he came inside you immediately. The release felt amazing and your grip on him allowed his cum to be fully stuffed inside you.

"Fuck," you panted, coming down from your high first, "Didn't I tell you to wait for my permission?" you scoffed once you finally managed to find your voice again. Chest heaving, you weren't really mad that Wooyoung disobeyed you because you had just experienced the best sex you've ever had, bar none.

"M' sorry mommy, so so sorry," Wooyoung babbled with a stupid grin on his face, eyes blinking back as his euphoria died down. "Yeah, sure you're sorry," you shook your head, not believing his words even slightly because he looked like pure bliss. You were no better though because had there been a mirror, you would've seen that you were also smiling genuinely. You could simply say that it was because you just had sex, but you had to admit that it was also because you had done it with Wooyoung.

Thinking that you were done, you slowly detached yourself from Wooyoung. But before you could even get off properly, Wooyoung had leapt forward and pinned your body down.

"Wooyoung!" you hissed, surprised and you immediately tried to sit up only for Wooyoung to push your body back down.

"I'm sorry for not waiting for your permission, I feel bad, really. So let me clean you up real quick, yeah?" there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that was accompanied by a knowing smirk before he lowered his face down to your cunt.

You were about to have another best sex ever, bar none.

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