#he's not ready to address anything he prefers them with no conflict haha

[fighterbound]

He would take that, with desperate greedy hands, her laughing it off and he following right after. Pretending the words were never spoken, because they're...complicated. More importantly he doesn't wanna lose Sakura over this. This ain't a conversation he ever wants to have. His exhaustion made him make a stupid mistake. The regret is bubbling from his stomach all the way to his throat. Hopefully it stays behind his teeth.

He wants to take them back and eat the glass of water to keep his dumb mouth shut. Who cares if the glass would ruin his mouth, it's deserved at this point. Plus Kurama would heal him. Right? The fox snorts, refusing to confirm or deny. Running his tongue along his sharp canine, Naruto drops his gaze to the floor. Trying to figure out what the hell to say to dispel the sudden tension.

Fuck. Now he's gotta fix this. Smooth it over, like he does most things. Push it under the rug and pretend it's not there. Just like that words of comfort, of teasing begin to surface. Tactics to defuse and get people to move on. To look away from the problem.

Just as he's ready to tell her to forget it, that he didn't mean it he hears her speak. Meeting her gaze again, blue eyes begin to blaze with his steadfast support of his best friend. The regret stays back, but not the surprising lightning blast of anger that cracks open his mouth.

"The best choice was leaving him to me." The way his lips, teeth, and tongue snarled around the words throw him back. Quickly he's back pedaling, the chair behind him stumbling as he gets to his feet. His hands are out in front him, already trying to placate.

"S-Sakura-chan," he stumbles watching with her wide wild eyes, " Sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that! It was...damn. Sorry." He says again, pressing on his apology hoping she feels his regret. Then he forces a laugh, to diffuse the tension that's built between them. Anything to loosen the tightening atmosphere between them yet...his tongue still burns with more to say. That's his problem he says so much but never what counts.

No. No more dumb shit leaving his mouth. His fingers drum against the bar counter. Shaking his head, he grabs at all the thoughts in his head and shoves them back into that little chest in the corner of his mind. they don't need be out, they just cause trouble.

"Look," he says forcing a smile that barely reaches his eyes," that's in the past. he's alive and...doing whatever the heck he's doin'. Forget it." Please.

you tried to kill him, comes the ugly truth.

and for a moment, sakura's stuck between which way she had ought to react. there is that slow temptation to laugh from the shock of it all, to feign like naruto had just misspoke, and surely we can't dwell on things that have passed. another response is being immediately bitter and angry at the accusation, no matter how truthful it'd been, because of course what she'd done is brought to the limelight. against the sins of sasuke, sakura's own is always much larger.

what does naruto know of the resounding, accumulated voice that had came to her when the rest of their comrades had thought assassinating sasuke were a price they were willing to pay for a chance at peace ? and what could naruto ever encapsulate, in his persistent hopefulness and stubborn faith which had led him to journeys beyond konoha, the hurt sasuke and him has left behind ?

naruto makes it sound like the decision was simple.

in the end, it hadn't even mattered. despite the pleas of their friends, sakura couldn't land the last blow. sasuke, though, left an imprint of his hands right around her throat. not that she thinks naruto, for all his declaration over his childhood crush, cares — but sakura swallows the angriness. her hand around the cup is tight, and it is only the smallest shift that threatens her of it cracking that sakura minds her strength.

❛⠀he's hurt many people, naruto. ❜ her voice comes out quiet instead, resigned. for all the instant dramatic reactions she'd envisioned earlier, all that comes out instead is this small, meek response. pathetic, she thinks of herself, but she has no idea how else to skitter around the subject that wouldn't push her further from her own teammates. she has finally gotten naruto back, dammit. is she really gonna lose him over his own love for sasuke ? ❛⠀he's hurt you. i— i thought i was doing what's best. ❜

better to leave the details of how their peers voted for the decision. he's going to be the hokage; he can't afford to be on bad terms with any of them, but she ... she can take the fall. she can take his disappointment. as long as he won't leave again.

[soyouareandrewdobson]

Alex ze Pirate Mini Review 2: Underappreciated and how Sam should deal with an abuser.

Last time I gave a general overview of how Sam is treated by his “friends”. Now I want to give a more specific example, that will also show how Dobson’s storytelling abilities are not really all that good, particularly when it comes to pacing or building up any sort of conflict.

You see, for the most part Alex ze Pirate is just a collection of stupid artwork (not even concept art, just random artwork Dobson makes of his characters dressed as something random) and one page strips with a stupid punchline, with Sam most of the time being the receiving punching bag.

There have however been a few individual, short stories over time. And when I say short stories, I mean short. As in 15 pages for a very cheap set up, a few jokes and a punchline. Those include stories such as All that Glitters (where everyone except Alex breaks into a fortress to steal something), The Wish Fish (the only halfway okay story of them all because it is just meant to be comedic) and Best Laid Plans. However, near the end of the initial run of AzP, Dobson did a three part story (partly) focused on Sam in that format, which started off with the chapter I want to talk in this post: “Underappreciated”.

As you can see, the chapter starts off following some basic rules of storytelling in comics. Two establishing panels for the location at which the story takes place initially and showing what Sam’s duties are. Nothing really bad yet. The only thing that sticks out being just the fact that a) Sam does not have his own bedroom and has to sleep in a useless outlook and b) he sleeps in his regular clothes. But hey, nothing to get upset about initially, perhaps he just prefers it like this at the moment. But with the next two pages…

The problems start to show. Page three establishing that Atea herself is just a cunt who can’t even have the basic decency of wishing her “friend” a good morning or giving him a thank you for bringing a morning beverage as she has other selfish priorities on her mind. Like wanting to lick the shower water of Alex’s skin.

Also, go fuck yourself Uncle Peggy. As in, get both your arms ripped off, shoved up your butthole with those hooks and then get hanged on those stomps like a chandelier. I wouldn’t even mind the fact here that Peggy left a mess, if the face he makes in the last panel was not obvious of the fact he left the bathroom like this on purpose and that he is rather happy of making Sam’s day extra miserable by the fecal matter he left behind. Combined with any previous strip of the comic showing that Peggy for no reason likes to get the boy in trouble and even wants to see him die, this just shows once more of how much of an asshole he is. If the last panel just showed him with a groogy hangover look, obviously unaware of how much discomfort he brings unintentionally to Sam, that would be one thing. But intentionally making Sam’s day miserable despite the obvious fact the boy is the first one to do anything around here, while making one of the worst drawn “HAHA, I am such a rascal faces” I have ever seen (and I have seen shitty anime en mass) makes me hate the character more than Dobson intented.

And then there is page 5…

And it is in my opinion the saddest page in the entire comic arc, even compared to the “heartbreaking” stuff Dobson wants to pull up in the last third of it. Because though it is meant as a joke, the general execution is too cruel, crossing into “dude, not funny” territory and showing just how little the crew cares for Sam. Talus, Sam’s “best friend” not even aware he is around, everyone stealing Sam’s food with that stupid “Yoink” sound (seriously, I wish the characters would get punched in the vaginas each time they make this sound in any of Dobson’s strips) and then leaving Sam behind with smug faces, ready to do whatever they want to do, while he, likely stinking of feces and not even having showered properly, has also to clean up after those pigs, who can’t even eat in a proper manner ( hey Atea, use a fork instead of holding the bowl) and silently. I mean, they are pretty much pigs when the noises they make are loud enough, they make the font of the writing change randomly into whatever Dobson has on his computer with every sound. Not to forget the mess they leave behind. And they call Sam the Slob?

Anyway, on to the next page…

And who the heck left their Hello Kitty toy in the bathtub? Also, I hate the way Alex’s face is drawn in the lower left corner. Something about the eyes in relation to the shit eating grin just looks off. Less “smug” and gleefully awaiting whatever she plans next and looking more like Dobson when someone tells him his opinion and reasoning for it is bad, but he can’t yell back at them because they are part of a minority and so he has make a “good face” to a bad situation, while internally he is already imagining how to strawman them in some fake news worthy facebook post.

And then we get to page 7. Which features the WORST addition to the “Alex ze Pirate” canon Dobson has ever thought up. An embodiment of what is wrong with Dobson when it comes to inserting internet culture related stuff into his own work. Ladies and gentlemen… the lolcat pirates

Yeah, those Hello Kitty rejects who ironically look still more like a proper cat than Spot in Danny and Spot, are essentially one of the worst jokes Dobson has ever created. Because they are a joke without a punchline. See, all there is to them is that they are sentient cats, that speak in a manner associated with lolcat posting. And that is the “joke”. Their speech pattern being based on a dumb internet meme that was popular at the time Dobson drew this page. It is like if you portray an Asian by making them talk with a shitty racist accent and that supposedly counts already as comedy. It is not funny, because there is nothing really done with it in context of the story. Like no one addresses the weird way they talk. Also, with the font Dobson uses, it is just an eyesore to any reader and the text gets aggravating the more the captain of the cats talks. It shows why lolcat pictures only had very short sentences accompanying the pics, cause reading more than 8 words written in this manner tingles a part of your brain that makes you want to shout “English motherfucker, do you speak it”?

Don’t get me even started on how the joke would get lost to anyone unaware of lolcats and how dated the joke already was back when the page was posted, which is one of many reasons why comic artists should just in general avoid memes in their work, if they hope for it to pass the test of time. Instead let me just point out the fact that though Alex said “All hands prepared for casting off” on the previous page (which is also a very unnatural way to give the order “Everyone get ready! Take off in 10 minutes”) not all hands are on board, seeing how Uncle Peggy is missing on this page (and spoilers) many pages of this afterwards. Weird. I thought he would be onboard the moment Alex mentioned they are going to hijack a ship full of pussy. Lastly, this is Alex being a “badass”? Taking over a ship full of little furballs you can defeat with a laserpointer, a squeaky toy and catnip? Sam, this is not just “almost” embarrassingly easy, this is literally on a level similar to stealing candy from a baby. That is mentally handicapped. And without supervision. In a candy story.

At least it turns out there is genuinely something worth stealing on this ship. Otherwise all Alex would have accomplished on that very day would have been animal abuse for the sake of entertainment. Though now it also gets me thinking: A place called Katsville, the revelation that the captain is supposedly the child of a high ranking military feline within the sea force of an entire species of sentient cats… how exactly does the world of Alex ze Pirate function? Look, I do not want to get into too much detail about this point here yet, because it is a bigger issue with the worldbuilding (or rather lack thereof) of this series in general, but what is the “consistency” when it comes to races and species in this world? See, One Piece for example is overall a very “cartoonish” and fantastic world (more cartoonish than what Dobson creates on average) when you think of the fact there are fish men, giant seacows and seamonsters, sentient furry creatures, islands in the sky, sentient weather phenomenons etc next to humans. And while Oda does not really spend time elaborating in very high detail how his world works, the sheer abundance of those elements and how they were established pretty early on in the story and are revisited constanly, with the cartoonish flavor and humor of One Piece on top of it, makes those oddities feel organic and a part of the world.

Not so much in AzP. Here over 90% of the time any character not related to the crew is some generically drawn human, in a very generically human setting with jokes just not cartoonish enough. So the world of AzP feels more “realistic” and less oddish, making then things like Talus, the lolcat pirates and once a giant sea dragon that looked like Elliot’s rejected cousin

Stand out like a sour thumb that looks like this

But I digress. Lets see what makes Sam, who just seems bored and wants to end his miserable life/drink his sorrows away, throw the cat captain against the wall.

Okay. Sam’s overall reaction makes it clear, the locket is important. So “kudos” for establishing this and in doing so also create within a moment a bit of intrigue for the reader. After all, why does this locket get such a reaction out of Sam, who we know so far as more happy go lucky or deadpan in parts, instead of looking genuinely distraught. Heck, the fact he even tells Alex to shut up when she commands him around should highlight how out of character finding this locket truly makes Sam.

Then there is Alex’s reaction to being told to shut up, which she takes with as much dignity as someone telling Dobson to just stop fawning about underaged lesbians in a toddler show.

Jesus Christ, she faces being told she looks like a guy with more grace than that. I mean, isn’t she used to being told to shut her trap? Cause if I were her parents, I would have told this entitled redheaded whinner a few times over the course of her childhood to shut up.

Scum sucking cabin boy… said by a butt ugly whore who would genuinely suck scum off if it means she can finally get laid instead of being mistaken for a man. By the way, with that angry face she makes in the first panel, I can totally see why others would mistake her for a dude. She just looks unpleasant and not in a funny way like that red panda girl from Aggretsuko. See, when she gets angry, it looks hilarious and cute because of the contrast to how the character looks ordinarily. This is just Alex looking even more unpleasant as usual.

Now, before I continue with the next pages, I like to point out the face Sam makes in the upper panel and Sam’s overall body language in the last one.

It is obvious that Sam is meant to be in a state of mind where he knows for what he is getting yelled at and where he genuinely reacts in a hurt manner. His body shaking, his head tilted down, not saying even a word. You would expect that the next page of this comic would be a follow up. Seeing Sam, who is pent up, lashing out in some way. Either for example by justifying why he said it, getting sad, angry, perhaps even violent in that situation. After all, so far the way this story has been structured, a lot of emphasize was put on the fact that Sam is treated not well and that finding this locket actually has an uncommon effect on him. Heck, even the title of this chapter hints on the idea, that we should get some sort of huge reaction out of Sam now on the next page, as this is supposed to be Sam’s story.

Instead it is just Alex grumbling and grinding her teeth, unable to comprehend that someone finally told her something every reader with more than 20 braincells said when reading this comic series. And this in my opinion is from a structural point, one of the biggest missteps in this story. Obviously, this is supposed to be a comic about Sam, based on title and him being the one character in it with the most emotional aspects so far. And it is also obvious that this is not just meant to be a silly gag comic but supposedly one with emotional weight. So, where is that weight so far, aside from the panels showing Sam being miserable because he gets the short end of the stick by his friends? Sorry to hijack this thing here now with my own ideas, but if I had writen this story, page 12 and 13 would have actually been an immense turning point for me in the dynamic so far. Why I would have let Alex shout at Sam for insubordination, I would have made it more than one panel of Alex calling him scum and also end likely with Sam, who obviously reaches a limit the longer she goes on about it, end punching her in the face, perhaps even knock out. Show truly just how far Sam is pushed emotionally at this moment, keeping it however ambiguous if he hit her because of her words hurting or because of something else, in doing so focusing also the attention to the reader back on the locket.

As an aftermath of this, Alex would (if not knocked out) hit Sam back, much to Atea’s and Talus horror, later implying additionally that Sam left because of being hit by whom he thinks is not just his captain but a “friend” (oh yes spoiler, Sam is gone in the next chapter)   or the next page would be of Alex waking up back in her hideout from having been knocked out. Atea and Talus informing her what happened, her deciding to deal with Sam later on after recovering (who accompanied everyone back on the island temporarily) only for the last page showing Sam deciding that he is leaving the island, ending the chapter on Sam in a small boat slowly drifting away from the island. You know, something to give the chapter the feeling that the “shut up” moment is an emotional turning point in this story and that there might be something bigger going on that resulted in Sam deciding to leave, without having him however go full Meg Griffin as in the Family Guy episode “Seashell Seahorse Party”, chewing Alex and the others out for the way they treat him. Cause honestly, as much as I like for Alex, Atea and Talus to be chewed out and face consequences for their actions, doing so would likely just be (like in that Family guy episode)  a pointless fillerbuster in the bigger picture of things, as no real consequences would come out of it.

Well that and just like the writers of Family Guy, Dobson is just equally loathsome and thinks he can write whatever sick joke he wants and can on his characters, basic decency or consistency in writing be damned.

But back to the comic, where things just “end” as shown here instead of any real emotions boiling up and a cliffhanger that may genuinely beg the question what is going to happen next to anyone involved in this thing.

 Cause really, by the time it is night and Sam says it is time to go, you are not surprised he wants to go, even if he did not have a genuine emotional outburst within this chapter. After all, who wants to stay with “friends” like this, with Talus and Atea not even trying to cheer him up and instead ignoring his obvious need for comfort in this uncomfortable way, as if they are a bunch of racists trying to look away as someone beats a black person in front of them into a pulp. The only question you may ask yourself by the time the last page is hit, is who that generic looking girl is, whose picture has been photoshopped into the locket.

 Something we may not find out by the time the next chapter and part of this review hits, but will get to eventually. Until then guys, in order to end on something happier, funnier and just genuinely more pleasant than what this story presented to us so far, have something silly and Super Sentai related here for the sake of childish entertainment.

[krononan]

The Connectivity of Learning

@professor-cinnamon-roll commissioned this. Thanks prof! I always enjoy exploring new sides to the skeksis. Also, conveying anything in 100 words is really hard haha. If you liked it, think about commissioning me. I’m currently in a bad financial situation so anything I can get helps. Enjoy!

“skekOk!” 

skekOk turned and scowled at the familiar whining tone of the Chamberlain. The times when other skeksis visited skekOk in the library were rare, but frustrating occurrences. 

“skekSil. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Was talking with Emperor, yes? Decided a change was to be had. Agree with Chamberlain, no?”

skekOk gave him a skeptical look.

“What kind of change?”

“skekOk will take gelfling,” the Chamberlain wrung his hands and whined, “apprentice, hmm? To help with scrolls.”

-------

The All-Maudra herself announced her youngest would be interested in the position. If nothing else, it would be an intriguing political hold for him. 

“I am Princess Brea. It is an honor to meet you,” she said, bowing low. Her mother looked on with a stern expression.

“I am skekOk, the Scroll Keeper,” he said, trying to keep the disdain from leaking into his voice. As much as he thought that gelfling were crude, he did have a reputation to uphold. “I am looking forward to working with you.”

That was far from the truth. He assigned her odd jobs around the library, mostly cleaning. To his surprise, she was glad to work on anything in the library. 

-------

One evening he found the young gelfling reading in a small alcove after she had finished dusting.

“You can read, gelfling?” skekOk asked. He tried to contain his shock, for he was not aware that many of them could. It would be nice to have another intellectual in the castle. skekLach had become so boring after her so called incident with “knowledge”. 

“Yes, I learned from the Librarian of Ha’rar.”

“Really? What sorts of things do you read about?”

“Well, history, and all sorts of other things.”

skekOk paused. Although he was hesitant to ask a gelfling questions, his curiosity won him over.

“How do gelfling keep records of history?”

Brea was glad to explain.

-------

It was rare to find someone with such a voracious appetite for knowledge. skekOk delighted in their research times, and sometimes forgot that his research assistant was a gelfling. They had gone on a hunt in search for information on a rare type of mushroom until the early hours of the morning. skekOk looked up from his book and adjusted his spectacles. Across from  him, Brea was sitting in one of the large armchairs with a large tome in her arms. 

She was fast asleep, and leaning against the oversized side of the chair. skekOk smiled fondly and gathered up a blanket from where it lay on the couch. He draped it over her and blew out the lantern without a word.

-------

It was after one of these research sessions that skekOk was surprised to run into the Chamberlain in the hall.

“skekSil. You’re up late,” he said with caution.

“Yes, Chamberlain just here to check up on Scroll Keeper. Have been spending lot of time with gelfling, no?” Chamberlain asked, quirking his head.

skekOk scowled and pushed past the smaller skeksis. He kept his eyes anywhere but the Chamberlain as he continued his way back to his chambers. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Chamberlain. Now if you’ll excuse me, I am tired.”

“Scroll Keeper should be careful, yes? Do not want other skeksis to get wrong idea. But no worry. Chamberlain understands.”

-------

The next time that a skeksis confronted him about Brea it was much of the same. They were having their nightly feast and Brea burst in with an exciting new development in their research on mushrooms. 

“skekOk! You won’t believe what I found on the growing of-” she stopped mid sentence as Var stood from his seat. skekOk cringed as the larger skeksis puffed out his chest and addressed Brea.

“What is this? What is the reason for this intrusion, gelfling?”

Brea stuttered and skekOk rose to his feet. He was one of the less temperamental skeksis, preferring to devote his time to intellectual pursuits. However, something about his friend cowering away from his brethren enraged a dormant fire within him.

“That is my assistant, skekVar, and you will address her with respect.”

-------

skekOk was simply reading through a large tome on gelfling culture when he heard the raucous shouting coming from the halls.

“General killed All-Maudra, yes! Dangerous choice. Let gelfling flee,” Chamberlain said.

“Shut up, you impudent fool,” the Ritual Master snapped back, “This is exactly what we needed.”

skekOk peeked his head out through the doorway and frowned. At the mention of the All-Maudra he was intrigued. He thought of Brea, hopeful that she was not involved.

“Princess and Rian escaped, yes. Dangerous, very dangerous this is.”

At the mention of a princess skekOk’s heart dropped. Dread pooled in his stomach at the thought of Brea on the run. 

------

The shouts and screams of the castle guard echoed throughout the halls. skekOk caught movement out of the corner of his eye. 

A gelfling in a guard’s uniform darted out in front of him. The pale hair gave him pause. He froze for a second, with one question on his mind. Brea? He shook his head and focused on the Vapran gelfling running from him.

He rushed forward and seized her by the cloak.

“Please! No!” She screamed, and her hands scrabbled at skekOk’s closed fist.

skekOk looked at her, and for a moment, he saw Brea staring back at him with fear. He shook his head. She was pleading with him. He resolved himself not to look as he dragged her down the hall.

-------

The next time that he saw Brea he was glad that he did not have to pretend he was not shocked. The Hunter’s presence alone was a surprise, but he paid him no attention. He could hear Brea screaming inside, and tried to keep himself from rushing to help. 

skekSil gave him an odd look, but otherwise stayed silent. He knew that the chamberlain was most likely conniving in some way or another but could not bring himself to care. 

-------

He was surprised to see Brea on the battlefield. She was alone, with a sword that he could’ve used as a toothpick. skekLach loomed over her, ready to bring her sword down with a fatal strike. 

“No!”

skekOk moved with the swiftness of one of the warrior skeksis. He crashed into skekLach, whose eyes flicked between himself and Brea. 

She had seen. He was terrified.

-------

By the end of the conflict, he had nothing to worry about. skekLach was gone, obliterated into green goo not unlike the ooze from her pustules. He breathed easy, although he did have to fake mourning when he was among his other skeksis. He would not regret that choice. Brea was his friend.

[sryryfm]

Lessons in Vulgarity

Pairing: Alvin Vint Svent/Jude Mathis

Warnings: Underage, Light Bondage, Teacher-Student Relationship, Anal Sex, Praise Kink, Uniform Kink, Voice Kink, Power Play, Age Difference, Corruption, Dirty Talk

Words:  3.6k

Summary: Mr. Svent was Jude Mathis' favorite teacher for a myriad of reasons, and rumors or no, he wanted anything and everything the man had to offer. AO3 / Pt 2

“There’s a rumor you see…”

                                 “that Jude Mathis has a thing for older men.”

“There’s another rumor that he’s dating one right now. A teacher.”

“But don’t tell anyone I told you, okay?”

                 “It’s just a rumor anyway. As if a teacher would be stupid enough.”

“Besides didn’t he have a crush on some girl named Maxwell?”

                                                              “Isn’t she graduating soon?”

“Guess he has a thing for older women too, haha!”

-

There were a number of things wrong with their current situation. Namely, the biggest issue Jude found had to be for as anxious as he normally felt, the whole thing left him more in a state of terrible longing rather than the fear he probably should feel.

His actions weren’t done for any particular gain. The jeers of being called a teacher’s pet never really bothered Jude simply because the truth was he enjoyed Mr. Svent’s company. He didn’t need to go such lengths for a grade. Mr. Svent knew that and though it all started as a means to feed the student’s obsession for knowledge, it steadily spiraled out into needing more. His insatiable curiosity grew beyond the information his teacher provided. He found himself wanting to know more about the man in question too.

The late hours they spent talking after class drew to more personal questions. There were things he could share with his teacher that rarely he could express elsewhere. He listened to his problems, offered him space and an excuse to avoid returning to an absent house full of impossible standards he couldn’t meet. In return, Alvin told him of technology that wasn’t supposed to exist and a world that sounded unreal. It was enough to be comfortable. It was enough to try and subsist the other sorts of feelings that came with being comfortable in someone’s presence.

It evolved though. That ease and comfort warped and morphed itself to the point where on some level they both knew it wasn’t right, let alone appropriate. He couldn’t express how thankful he was for everything Mr. Svent did for him, but he found himself staying after later and later. Little things the other did only fed his longing; the way his teacher would call his hairpins cute, the way he’d leave lingering touches and gazes. It was only a matter of time until they ended up like this. Again and again, in private classrooms, at Mr.Svent’s home when offered, Jude would let himself be opened up in ways he didn’t think possible.

Their relationship wasn’t normal. It didn’t have a name. It didn’t even have a basis or likely even a future. It was just comfortable. Convenient. Jude wanted as much of his teacher as he was willing to give and in turn would give anything and everything he could for the illusion of safety and love.

“I think we’re a little past formalities kid, but if that’s what you’re into feel free to keep addressing me like that.”

The conversation wasn’t the first, but unlike the others prior, they were all missing the suggestive tone and content this one had. Jude had been given permission to call him Alvin weeks ago, but it felt strange even with the close nature they had now. Calling him that while he made a mess of Jude on his desk was beyond just strange and leaned closer to mortifying.

“Do you want me to call you Alvin?”

“Oh, is it that you’re into?”

Feeling particularly bold and a bit impatient at the man’s antics, Jude silenced him by tugging his tie down for a kiss. Not the least bit annoyed with this development, the teacher wasted no time in taking control. Between breaths, he couldn’t help chuckling, the noise reverberating in their kiss. He already knew Jude liked being told what to do, what to think; he could tell him to do anything embarrassing in this situation and he would. The sort of control made Alvin hot in a terrible sense and he’d feel worse about it if he didn’t know it turned Jude on just as much.

“D-Did you lock the door?” Jude panted as Alvin moved lower, his laughter low in his throat as he devoured Jude.

“Of course,” he answered with a nonchalance that only worsened the student’s anxiety.

“Mr.S—Alvin, I’m serious,” his last word stuttered and broke slightly off into a whine as Alvin answered him with a bite. He always felt so conflicted because on one hand, Jude looked so precious in a uniform, but on the other hand with moments like now, there were too many layers and his patience always dealt with it poorly.

Unwrapping his student was never boring though. Each time was only a new face, a new sound, a new place he found to drive the other maddeningly close. He moved his hands down to grip the other’s thighs and hips lifting him to sit more properly on the desk rather than just semi leaning against it.

“Do you really think anyone will stop by? I even put a sign on the door that I’m not here and everything,” he knew the thought of being walked in on was horrifying for more than just the embarrassment it would bring. To save his own skin, he was actually rather careful where and when he chose to indulge in this scandal, but beyond this role being a ruse Jude didn’t know of, he also may have felt the tiniest bit guilty at the thought of it all blowing up in the kid’s face if they were found out. He wasn’t exactly ready for whatever they had right now to end.

“Do you remember what happened last time,” Jude narrowed his eyes, but behind the glasses and their proximity and position, it came off more adorable than anything. Not that the boy really struck him as anything but; he’d given him plenty of information that could destroy him if he knew how to use it properly. If he wanted to, he could turn him in for what they were doing right now. He wouldn’t though. The false idea of control was just one he was always mindful of around Jude. Dominating him like this was purely for their enjoyment, but at the end of the day, the student held all the cards and that honestly terrified Alvin.

“If you had listened to me to be quieter, it wouldn’t have been a problem.”

“You told me to be loud.”

“Did I?”

A grin spread on his face as he undoes Jude’s tie, twisting the soft fabric around his fingers as he brings it up and by the other’s mouth. A retort is resting on Jude’s tongue that falters upon piecing together what his teacher was silently inquiring.

“Think this’ll be quiet enough for you?” He asked the same confliction from earlier popping up at imagining the sight he would likely behold in a few moments. Jude never denied him after all, especially if he was all but telling him his options. Hearing him was so much better because the hitches and moans—all because of him—were beautiful to listen to, but seeing Jude tied up and bound seemed appealing in its own way. He should be more concerned at that thought considering the urge to see Jude any way he could manage was growing as the days went on, but it was placed into an easy to ignore part of his mind.

Instead, he watched Jude gingerly remove his glasses to place them on the desk before rolling his eyes. It only prompted him into tying the fabric faster. He made a knot, not particularly caring if he ruined the kid’s tie figuring he was more than happy with replacing it if he got to do what he wanted, placing it by Jude’s mouth before commanding him to bite. Jude acquiesced to the order, eyelids dropping just slightly as he got into it despite the slight aggravation he expressed earlier.

“That hurt?” Alvin murmured as he wanted it tight so as to block the boy’s mouth, but not so tight he was uncomfortable or couldn’t breathe. He shook his head and Alvin merely continued with his descent, undoing more buttons and straps thankful his style of dress allowed easy removal. It was simple enough to sling the clothes on the chair behind him before turning back to Jude.

“You’re doing so well,” he spoke keeping his voice soft as he pushed Jude to lay splayed on the desk kissing at his now exposed chest. They hadn’t experimented with this sort of thing, but he knew Jude got worked up easily on compliments and on the off chance he was nervous at not being able to speak, he figured it would put him at ease. The muffled moan he received certainly seemed to suggest so.

Alvin traced his fingers along Jude’s skin, torn between wanting to kiss it more, touch it or simply stare at how gorgeous he was.

“You have no right looking this pretty,” he mused running his fingers up to the other’s neck, past the hickeys he left, to rub along his cheek. Jude looked up at him dazed, but nuzzled into his palm. The teacher wanted to tell him how precious he was, but all that leaves his mouth is more vulgarities.

“Shame I can’t put my fingers in your mouth like this… you always seem so hungry for them,” he chuckled lewdly before moving away long enough to open the bottom right drawer of his desk and extract the bottle of lubricant and condoms he hid behind a series of manila folders, “I can do something else with them though, right?” Jude had called him a pervert for leaving it there, and he could see in his expression now he was thinking the same thing.

He tried to be quick in removing the rest of the layers between them never needing to shrug off his pants or undergarments all the way in places like this. Admittedly, he preferred bringing the boy home for this reason as he could not only take his time, but also remove what he wanted entirely. This position required more to be taken off than usual on Jude, as he really didn’t want to flip him onto his stomach, but still the urgency to finish before someone actually did need him for something was present. Given the time, it was unlikely there would be anyone or at the very most a student, but in some ways being found out by faculty was probably worse.

Moments like this with Jude always left him eager and rushing, but in equal measures, he hated it because he wanted to go slow. He wanted to feel pleasure, but he wanted to watch the boy fall apart. He wanted to taste and claim every inch of his skin in an unhurried fashion, but he also wanted to be rough and harsh.

Jude never seemed to care what he did. He knew the boy could say no. Even with his mouth gagged like this, he’d be able to read the slightest hesitation and stop in an instant. It was the fact he could continue if he wanted that excited him. The fact that he could talk or bully him into doing most anything was enough to spur him on.

Alvin, truthfully, didn’t know what Jude preferred. He likely should. A good lover would, but fast or slow, rough or gentle, the one thing the teacher knew was Jude reacted to what he thought Alvin wanted. Always the selfless sacrifice; even in a moment of what should be selfish pleasure, his actions—even if he did get off—were done more for Alvin’s enjoyment than his own. He couldn’t even be sure Jude’s claim to enjoy it was always truthful. He took from the student what he offered and nothing more.

Jude seemed too earnest to lie like that though. Maybe he was just that much of a masochist even if it was sad to think about on some level.

At times, it bothered him that Jude would let himself be treated like this. Sometimes it only led to Alvin taking his aggression out on the boy. Others, like now, it only made him want to treat him like something precious. Something breakable.

The sensation of Jude squeezing around his fingers, squirming his hips on the desk to draw Alvin closer was encouraging him to give in and rush.

“Do you want more already?” He asked, gripping Jude’s thigh tighter with his free hand. Egotism made him briefly wonder if the sight before him was solely for his benefit, but Jude was too honest for that wasn’t he? His body, his flushed face and lidded eyes, all of it was just an indication that he wanted this.

“I asked a question, kid,” He grunted, catching Jude’s eyes, demanding attention. The noises he made through the tie though muffled made it clear he was so lost that he forgot there were other methods to communicate.

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch you.”

Impatience grew in Jude’s expression and the mere sight of it given their current situation made Alvin feel absolutely filthy. To make sweet, patient Jude this overeager, almost irritated even, at not getting what he wanted was better than anything else his student could do to him.

“All right, all right, I hear you,” Alvin’s voice dropped to a saccharine murmur, as he moved his hand down to stroke him while adding a second finger. It wasn’t long before he was adding a third, Jude’s own wishes to rush overpowering any restraint he intended to show.

The boy’s volume increased and his teacher’s ministrations only added to it. Alvin let him know how much he enjoyed it. He didn’t care if his actions contradicted each other, making Jude loud enough to hear though bound was all the better because it just meant he was making him stop holding back. The teacher curled his fingers slightly conflicted in wanting to both push him to the edge and merely just shower him with pleasure. It was becoming a little difficult to hold back himself though.

Jude’s whine as he pulls his fingers out entirely is cute and he lets him know. He never wanted to hurt him—not seriously at least—as there was a difference between rough treatment and going too fast and neglecting to prepare the other properly. He slipped the condom on and added more lube hoping even with the student’s evident impatience, it’ll be enough to keep him from injuring himself. There was a twitch in the student’s hips as he started to enter, but he’s back to the same slow and gentle pace he initially wanted to use. He takes the time to appreciate his looks once more, looking for any signs of discomfort or silent signals on how to move.

He loved making Jude like this and he made sure he knew. He let the dams break as he let Jude know how beautiful he was, how he was his favorite student, how brilliant and good he was. The boy broke apart in his arms, shuddering and shaking from pleasure and the tears now streaming down his cheeks. Alvin wanted to care; on the surface, he even did care. It was why he let him cry and grip the desk. Let him pull the teacher closer with his legs despite the fact he should wait to start moving.

There’s something heartbreaking in seeing Jude cry even if a part of it is from pleasure. It makes the teacher want to wipe his eyes, but it’s something neither of them have addressed. When it first happened, Alvin had just assumed he was one of those types who cried as they came and thought nothing of it. The desperation in how he clung to him and apologized later in a voice he wasn’t sure whether to describe as embarrassed or ashamed made him rethink the action.

From what he gathered of the boy’s life, there were a number of things wrong, but that he always faced with a forced front and a sense of optimism that bordered on childish idealism. The fact he was hooking up with a man like him said enough about the lack of proper attention he probably needed. They were issues he needed help with, but Alvin would never be the right person to assist him with it. He couldn’t fill the void in Jude and on some level he was sure the boy knew this and knew their sort of relationship didn’t help things.

They just met like this because it was comfortable, convenient, oh so painfully easy. They used each other to pretend they could fill holes that couldn’t be filled. Something about Jude tricked him into feeling full himself, and until things broke, it was simple to continue on. To thrust into the smaller boy beneath him, egging him to come and focusing only on these false intimacies.

“It’s okay Jude,” he encouraged him, adjusting himself so he could stroke him in time with his movements, “you can come.”

Jude’s stamina was never very high, but when assured so sweetly it only dropped him off faster. With the over stimulation, his age and lack of experience, it was only natural he couldn’t last for very long. What probably made it on some level revolting was how the whole thing managed to make Alvin’s own stamina disgustingly low. The sight of Jude on his desk, gagged and crying, but taunt with the force of his climax, which only stained his chest was too much. Even the way he pitifully tried to meet his teacher’s thrusts to help him come while likely exhausted himself only fed the heat pooling lower.

He kept groaning out compliments and sweet nothings and it was cruel how he kept going despite the obvious uncomfortableness too much sensation was giving to the student underneath him. If he actually told him to stop, he would. He had tried to before once, pulling away to finish himself off, but Jude had only insisted he be the one to do it.

It was obscene how much the boy turned him on, and as he came with Jude’s name spilling from his lips, he has to remind himself to be quiet too. They’re both panting, and Jude is still shuddering as he gingerly tried to pull out and away. Jude has another erection budding, but he can tell with one look it’ll likely fade, as it seemed more painful than enjoyable considering it was a response to over stimulation. Alvin focused on removing and tying up the used condom and finding a scrap of paper to ball it up into, really not wanting to explain why there was a used condom in his trash to any janitor who might see it.

The action doesn’t take very long and he admittedly is attempting to rush so he can help Jude in undoing the tie around his mouth and get redressed. When he was dazed in the afterglow of their actions it always made Alvin feel twisted inside as that notion of how precious the student was arose, but likewise all the realizations of what they did and how wrong it was only surfaced with it. The bite marks and bruises on the kid’s thighs stood out, as did the stray tears he hadn’t properly wiped away, and it left the teacher uncomfortably unsure whether he was supposed to apologize or hold him. He often did neither.

“You okay, kid?” He did ask, once the cloth was removed and tried not to visibly wince at how raspy Jude’s voice sounded.

“Yeah, that… felt really good, Mr. Svent,” Jude answered him still sounding out of it and worse like his throat was raw. The fact he addressed him by his official title didn’t help things. At least he was no longer in the habit of thanking him after; that had been even worse.

“I keep telling you, when we’re alone you can drop that,” he admonished starting to hand the boy articles of clothing from the chair along with some napkins to wipe his stomach.

“So it really wasn’t you being perverted then?” Jude retorted a lopsided smile on his face as he accepted articles, cleaning himself up, slipping into his cloths and beginning to redo the buttons.

“I’m not that terrible,” He responded trying to fix up his own appearance, “besides isn’t addressing me so formally like that worse?”

“Maybe,” Jude said, beginning on his pants and underwear having given up on putting his tie back on, “although, maybe I do like that aspect to it.” His smile morphed into a slyer one at that and Alvin’s heart ached at how much he may have ruined this kid. Although, maybe it wasn’t all his fault. He wasn’t exactly a complete saint the first time they met like this.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get you Mathis,” He shook his head deciding to address him just as formally in return, “when you’re ready we can get coffee from the faculty office. I owe you that much at least—that and your voice sounds terrible.”

“I wonder who’s fault that is?”

“Yours,” the teacher insisted considering it was actually Jude who had started this time. With the way he had been talking lately too, Alvin should probably be more concerned on the influence he was having on this part of Jude’s life. Horrible or not, he really couldn’t say he was too concerned. The truth was, he even kind of loved it.

[emeraldxmonarch]

Amori Aetherium (Pt. 12)

(Hi everyone~! Here is part 12 finally haha! This is more of a look inside Amara’s head and the aftermath. @voice-addicted was a huge help editing and giving a final look-through for the chapter as always <3. I also wanted to thank everyone who has been reading this from the start. I have a pretty long story planned out, that spans not only this relationship, but the effects this has on the others as well and my own little theories about interactions with other Courts~ 

I’ll stop rambling haha, I hope you guys enjoy~! 

-SxW)

~Previous Chapter~                                                                 ~Next Chapter~

Amara woke up a day later.

And almost immediately began to cry because of the pain between her legs.

She softly scolded herself, knowing she should be used to the pain, but none before him had ever ripped themselves out like that, to where she began bleeding. 

Tears streamed even harder down her face. 

She tried to sit up, but the pain in her body made it difficult to move. She didn’t expect to feel like this, but the strain she put on her body running, and what happened with Aedan...

She tried to block the images out before she completely fell apart.

A soft knock on the door distracted her, and she rasped out a quiet “C-Come in”

Feyre walked inside with a relieved look on her face, which was instantly replaced with worry when she saw Amara struggling to get up. She rushed over to her and gently helped her sit up, frowning in worry seeing her cringe. Amara watched her with wide eyes, several emotions running through her at the sight of the High Lady.

What she and Rhys said.

What happened with Aedan. 

She could still feel the heat across her skin. 

She knew she shouldn’t be afraid...Feyre saved her life more times than one, but she couldn’t help the fissure of fear that sparked at the sight of her.

Which was felt clear as day through the bond by Feyre, breaking her heart.

She took a step back and took a deep breath, looking at her seriously, “I...know what I did scared you...but...this...is just as new for us...as it is for you...we’re still...accepting what happened...but,” Feyre very gently takes her hand into hers, and looks into her eyes, a storm meeting the sea, “I want...we want you to stay here...with us...give us a chance to get to know who you are...and if you aren’t comfortable here...we could get you a house anywhere within Velaris...you would have freedom...” 

Amara could barely comprehend everything being said to her. 

Stay here? How could she possibly stay here?

She felt the bond, clearly. She could feel it as if it were a physical thread tied to her chest, binding her to the others. 

But...she couldn’t forget their words. Her name would always be a hindrance. It would always be a reminder of what they went through Under The Mountain. She had heard the rumors, she knew pieces of the tales. 

Could they ever really love her for her? Or would they only ever see that Queen in place of her, every time they called her name? 

She stared at the High Lady, her conflict clear on her face. Feyre bit her lip softly before looking up at her again, “You don’t have to decide now...you can have all the time you need...” 

“I...I just...” Amara ducked her head. This was all happening so quickly, but she also knew, that she had nowhere else to go. But she couldn’t leech off of their kindness. 

Her voice was barely above a whisper, “Can...Can I think about it..? Please..?”

Feyre quickly nodded, “Y-Yeah, of course! Take as long as you want and need. There’s absolutely no rush whatsoever.” Feyre stood up and gave her a slightly hesitant smile, “I’ll give you some time. Mor’ll come up with dinner in a bit, okay?” 

Amara nodded numbly and watched her leave. 

Stay here? Honestly? 

Could she?

Should she?

They were her mates...but...being with them...she...she didn’t want to do the things mates were supposed to do...

But they had each other.

Where would she fit in?

How would she fit in?

Would the Inner Circle even accept her?

She was just a servant girl. She had no special talents.

But she had nowhere left to go.

If she tried to go back to her old house in the Court of Nightmares, she would be hunted down and killed on the spot...

Or put back into the dungeons...

Especially if Aedan was back there...Keir wouldn’t leave her alive...

Aedan.. 

Oh Cauldron...

Was he even alive...? She shuddered softly. She wouldn’t go down that path just yet. 

She took a deep breath and laid a hand on top of her chest. The movement felt slow, but still. She could feel her own heartbeat.

It was connected to two others now. 

Even if she wasn’t ready, she was involved in a bond, that could potentially be life changing for her. 

Positively or negatively.

But right now....she had the chance to make it positive...

And she had the choice to live away from them....To get her own independence...but she had no money to do that. Any savings she had were to meager to really live off of...

but maybe....she could earn that lodging and help repay what they did for her... 

                                                             ~

A few hours later, Amara cleaned herself the best she could with a wash cloth and some water in a bucket. 

She couldn’t stand feeling so dirty.

She changed into another dress left out for her, again in the color blue. 

This one was sleeveless and backless. Maybe to keep pressure off of her bandages?

She slipped it on, and took a deep breath, before gathering her courage and slowly going downstairs. 

It took her a few minutes to slowly make her way down the stairs, but the first person she saw was Mor sipping from a glass of wine. When Mor glanced up at the stairs, she quickly sat up and rushed to her, “What are you doing? You should still be resting!” She gently helped Amara down the rest of the stairs, and immediately led her to the couch, “Well...maybe a change of scenery will do well for you...it’s not healthy to be cooped up in a room all day” Amara tried to thank her, but she was immediately shushed. “No...you don’t have anything to thank us for...” Mor watched her closely, before taking a seat in front of her, a serious expression on her face. 

“Rhys...gave us the gist of what happened at the Day Court...and how you immediately volunteered to take the spell on yourself...” Amara watched her quietly, unable to see where she was going with this, “We...all judged you on the basis of your name...and that was wrong, Amara.” She tensed a bit, ignoring the slight sting from her back. It was the first time they had used her nickname again addressing her. Mor took a deep breath before continuing, “If you would give us a chance...we want to show you we’re better than that...” She smiled at her softly, but hesitantly, “We...I’m sorry, Amara...Instead of speaking for them, I’ll let them say it.

Amara couldn’t stop the tears that rushed into her eyes, or what she did next. 

She threw her arms around Mor in a tight hug. 

Mor stiffened at the sudden contact, but slowly hugged her back, being conscious of her wounds. 

“No one...has ever apologized...to me...No one...” Mor gently pulled away, and wiped away the tears that streamed out. “You were in a Court that suffocates all good. You’re free from there. You’re free.” 

Amara could barely nod through her own tears. 

Mor smiled at her softly, and turned towards the door, hearing someone walk in.

It was Feyre.

Feyre looked at Mor carefully, before going over to Amara. “Are you fee- What’s wrong?!” She panicked seeing the tears going down her face, and whirled to face Mor.

“N-No! They’re happy tears! R-Really!” Feyre only slightly calmed down at Amara’s words, before slowly taking a seat next to her. Mor grinned and stood up, “Ugh. Mates. Where’s the liquor when I need it around all this sappiness” Both women couldn’t hold back a giggle at the faux disgust in her words. 

Once Mor left, Feyre turned towards Amara. “How are you feeling..?” Amara couldn’t help but blush at the earnest stare Feyre was giving her. “I’m okay...My Lady...but...I’d like to speak to you about...our situation..” At that, Feyre sat up a little taller, as if preparing herself for bad news. Amara takes a deep breath before talking,

“I...want to see how we could make this work, but I’m not...I...” She ducked her head, unable to properly form a sentence to show how she felt, but mercifully, Feyre seemed to understand and gently took her hand. “We don’t want to rush into anything. All we’d like...is a chance to get to know you. Really know you...All of that relationship stuff...it can all come in later. Much, much later if you want” 

Amara let out a relieved breath and nodded. “Thank you...but I also want to work for my lodgings...I really am very good at cleaning and cooking...I...don’t want to leech off of your kindness any longer...” Feyre couldn’t bite back her smile at her words. It reminded her of how Rhys offered her a job when she came to the Night Court. “Well, I would much rather prefer you working with us personally, but let’s see what Rhys says, shall we?” She stood up and offered Amara her hand, which she took after a few seconds. 

“Oh, and Amara?”

“Yes?”

“Call me Feyre already. My Lady makes me feel old and stuck up.”

Amara’s snort of laughter was heard throughout the house.