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linkspooky · 6 months ago

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SHIGARAKI VS. YUBEL: HOW TO SAVE YOUR VILLAIN

The failure of Deku to save Shigaraki isn’t just a tragic conclusion for Shigaraki’s arc, it’s also My Hero Academia failing as a story. When I say the story failed, I mean the story has failed to answer any of the questions it asked its audience. It’s themes, character arcs, everything that communicates the meaning of the story to the audience is no longer clear.

Saving Shigaraki was the central goal of not only the story itself, but the main character Deku. By failing in its goal you can’t call this a good ending. In order to illustrate why this goal of saving the villain is so important to both Deku’s character and the central idea of MHA, I’m going to provide a positive example in Yu-Gi-Oh GX were the main character Judai successfully saves their villain. One of these stories fails, and the other succeeds. I will illustrate why under the cut.

BROKEN THEMES = BROKEN STORY

When artists draw they have to consider things like perspective, anatomy, shading, light, coloring. Drawing has rules, and it’s hard to produce good art without knowing these rules beforehand. If I draw something that has bad anatomy, you can criticize me for that.

Writing has rules, just like drawing. The rules of storytelling are important because writing is an act of communication. You can write whatever you want, just like how you can draw whatever you want, but if you break the rules the audience won’t understand what you are trying to communicate.

When I refer to MHA as a broken story, I am referring to the fact that it has broken the rules of storytelling. As this youtuber explains.

“I guess we should first define what broke and broken even means in this context. Has the story turned into an unintelligible mess? Not really. Value judgements aside, the narrative is still functional and fulfills the criteria of being a story. So how can a story that still functions be broken? Maybe to you it cannot. But to me a story that is still functional isn’t enough. What I mean when I say MHA is broken is that it’s lost something crucial. A codifying style of structure, pacing and payoff that until a certain point was the core of its identity.”

I could launch into a long-winded explanation of what themes are, but for the sake of simplicity I like to define themes in terms of “Ask, and answer.” The author asks a question to the audience, and then by the end of the story provides an answer. The audience is also invited to come up with their own answer which prompts them to think about the story on a deeper level. The question both MHA and GX are asking both its main characters and the audience is “Can you save the villain?” with the additional complicated question of “Should you save the villain?” This post will detail how both stories go about answering those two questions, and more importantly why those answers matter for the story.

With Great Power… You know the rest.

My Hero Academia and Yu-Gi-Oh Gx are actually similar stories once you get past their superficial differences. MHA is a story with way better worldbuilding, compared to a society where everything revolves around the trading card game, and people go to school to be better at a trading card game.

However, if you get past that. They are both bildungsroman, stories about the main characters growing up into adults. They both have an academy setting where the goal is for the main character to graduate and enter the adult world. They are both shonen manga. GX is the sequel of Yu-Gi-Oh a manga that ran in Shonen Jump the exact same magazine as MHA. The biggest point of comparison is their main characters, who both start out as young and naive who are driven by their admiration of heroes. Deku is a fan of All Might who wants to become a hero despite not having a quirk, because he loves All might who saves everyone with a smile. Judai’s entire deck archetype revolves around “Elemental Heroes’ and later “Neo-Spacians” who are all based on popular sentai heroes like ultraman.

The central arc for both characters is to grow up. Growing up for both of them not only requires figuring out what kind of adult they want to be, but also what kind of hero they want to be.

Now I’m going to drastically oversimplify what a character arc is.

A character arc first starts out with the character being wrong. Being wrong is essential because if the character is right from the beginning, then there’s no point in telling the story. A character often holds the wrong idea about the world, or has some sort of flaw that hinders their growth. The narrative then needs to challenge them on that flaw. It usually sets up some kind of goal or win condition. That flaw gets in the way of a character “winning” or achieving their goal, so they need to fix that flaw first. If their ideals are wrong, then they need to think about what the right ideals are. If they’re too childish, they need to grow up. If they have unhealthy behaviors or coping mechanisms, they need to unlearn it and require better ones. Otherwise, that flaw will keep sabotaging them until the end.

I’m borrowing the word “win condition” from class1akids here because it’s an incredibly appropriate terminology. Midoriya needs to do “x” in order to win, otherwise this victory doesn’t feel earned. The “x” in this case is usually character development. As I said before, a story where the main character hasn’t changed from beginning to end feels pointless. Especially in Deku’s case, he was already a brave, strong hero who would charge right into battle and defeat the bad guys in chapter one, so him defeating Shigaraki in a fist fight doesn’t represent a change.

The story sets up not only “What does the hero need to do to win?” but also “How does the hero need to change in order to win?” A character either meets these requirements before the end of the story, or they don’t and usually this results in a negative ending.

MHA in its first half quite clearly set up both the final conflict of saving the villains, and also that saving the villains is its “win conditions.” The hero shouldn't be allowed to win without first fixing this flaw.

From this panel onward the central question Deku is forced to answer shifts from “Am I strong enough to defeat ShigarakI” to “Can I save Shigaraki?” However, much earlier than that All Might goes on to basically set up the win conditions of what makes the ultimate hero as someone who “Saves by winning, and wins by saving.”

All might: You can become the ultimate heroes. Ones who save by winning, and win by saving.

Therefore the story has set it’s criteria for what kind of hero Deku needs to become. If he wins without saving, then he’s failed to become what the series has set up as the Ultimate Hero.

Shigaraki and Yubel aren’t just narrative obstacles, or boss monsters to be killed like in a video game. They are narrative challenges, which means that the character can’t grow in any way if they don’t answer the challenge presented by the characters. They are villains who actively resist being saved, to provide a challenge for two heroes who define their heroism by saving others. The challenge they pose adds a third question to the story and the main characters.

"Can I save the villain?"

"Should I save the villain?"

"If I don't save the villain, then can I really call myself a hero?"

In other words the decision they make in saving, or not saving their final antagonist defines what kind of hero they are. In Deku’s case it’s even more critical he defines what hero he wants to be because the MHA is also a generational story, and several of the kids are asked to prove how exactly this generation of heroes is going to surpass the last one. The kids growing physically stronger than the last generation isn’t a satisfactory answer, Deku getting strong enough to punch Shigaraki hard is not a satisfactory answer, because we are reading a story and not watching a boxing match.

I’m going to focus on the last two questions though for a moment. Many people who argue against saving villains like Shigaraki argue he is a mass murderer and therefore isn’t worthy of salvation. However, the act of saving Shigaraki isn’t a reflection of Shigaraki himself, but rather the kind of hero Deku wants to be. It all boils down to Spiderman. In the opening issue of Spiderman, teenage Peter Parker is bitten by a radioactive spider and suddenly gains super strength, the ability to stick to walls along with other powers. However, being a teenager he uses these powers selfishly at first. He doesn’t feel the obligation to use his powers for other people, and therefore when he sees a robbery happening right in front of him he lets the robber go. However, because he lets the robber go, the robber then attempts to hijack a car and kills his Uncle Ben in the process. If Spiderman had stopped the robber then he might have prevented that from happening. He had the power to stop the robber, but he didn’t feel responsible or obligated to save other people. As a result Uncle Ben dies. It’s not enough to have power, ti’s how you use that power that reflects who you are, therefore: “with great power comes great responsibility.”

The choice to save Shigaraki actually has little to do with whether or not Shigaraki is redeemable, but rather how Deku chooses to use his power, and what he thinks he is responsible for reflects who Deku is as a person. Deku himself also clearly outlines how he wants to use his power, that One for All is a power for saving, and not killing.

How he uses his power reflects Deku’s ideal in saving others, and therefore if he doesnt use his power to save, then he’s failed to live up to his ideals. It's not whether it's morally right to save a murderer like Shigaraki, but rather the way Deku wants to choose to use his power. It's about whether he feels the responsibility to save others.

Judai explores an incredibly similar arc to Deku. They are basically both asked what kind of responsibilities a hero is supposed to have, which is also a metaphor for growing up to handle the responsibilities of adulthood. As both characters start out with incredibly naive and childish ideas about what a hero is. Therefore realizing what a hero is responsible for is key to them growing as a character. However, Judai is different from Deku. In some ways he’s more like Bakugo. Judai is a prodigy who’s naturally good at dueling. He doesn’t duel to save others, but rather because duels are fun and he’s good at it. He’s very much like Bakugo, who admired All Might as a hero just as much as Deku did, but admired the fact that he was strong and always won rather than he saved others.

However, I would say both Deku and Judai are questioning what a hero is responsible for. They are both asking if they have the responsibility to use their power to save others. If they have to fight for other people, just because they have power. His first big challenge as a character comes from Edo Phoenix, who calls out Judai for not thinking through what it means to be a hero, and what responsibilities heroes carry. Judai duels because he thinks it’s fun. He will show up to duel to help his friends, but that’s because he’s the most powerful person in the group. Even then it’s because he finds fighting strong opponents to be enjoyable. Bakugo will beat up a villain, but for him it’s more about winning then if the action will save someone or not.

Judai is more often than not pushed into the role of being a hero, he doesn’t play the hero because he’s a particularly selfless person, and he’ll often avoid responsibility if not forced. He has power but no sense of responsibility and the narrative calls them out as a problem.

Edo: Can you even fathom that, Judai?

For Judai, he can’t understand the responsibility of being a hero. For Deku, he idealizes heroes so much he can’t understand that there are people out there the heroes have failed to save. These two callouts towards Deku and Judai are discussing similar because they’re both discussing where a hero’s responsibilities lie. Is a hero responsible for saving everyone? Is someone strong like Judai responsible for using their strength to help other people?

Judai’s arc continues into the third season where he’s not shown to just be naive but ignorant. He’s not just childish, he actively resists growing up because he doesn’t want to take on adult responsibilities.

THe same way that Deku just decides not to think about whether or not All Might failed to save people in the panels above. However, in Judai's case he's actively called out for his choice to remain ignorant.

Satou: Now, which one is at fault? Judai: Isn’t it the guy who saw it, but didn’t pick it up. Satou: Not quite. If one is aware of the trash that fell, it may be picked up someday. But there is no possibility fo the unaware one ever picking it up. Judai-kun you are the foolish one unaware of the trash that has fallen. Judai: Are you calling me out for how I am? Satou: Your behavior towards me was atrocious. The worst was attending class only for credit, even if you were there you only slept. Judai: Yeah, I know. I was all bad, but it wasn’t that big a- Satou: It is important. You see, one by one, the students inspired by your attitude were losing their motivation. Now if you were a mediocre duelist, then this would not be an issue. Satou: However, you are the same hero who defeated the three mythic demons. Every single student in the academy admires you. You should have been a model for this academy. Judai: Me, a role model? Are you kidding? I just do whatever I feel like doing. Satou: Great power comes with great responsibility. Yet, as you remain unaware of that, you’ve spread your lethargy and self-indulgence.

seems like a minor issue, but look how Judai responds to the accusations. “I just do whatever I feel like doing.” Satou is arguing that Judai should pay attention to the influence he has on others because of his power, because how he chooses to use that power affects others. However, Judai chooses to actively not look at the consequences of his actions because he doesn’t want to take on that level of responsibility, and therefore he’s looking away from the trash.

While it seems like it doesn’t matter in Satou’s specific example, not thinking of the consequences, or how you use your power can have unexpected consequences. Spiderman doesn’t feel like it’s his responsibility to stop a bank robber, and that bank robber shoots his uncle. You could still argue it’s not Spiderman’s responsibility to stop every crime in the world, and I guess no one owes anyone anything from that point of view - but Spiderman failing to act responsibility had the consequence of directly hurting someone else.

Spiderman has to live with that consequence because it was his own Uncle that was hurt. This is where we really reach the duality of Judai.

In GX, Judai is, symbolically speaking, The Fool of the Tarot Deck, the Novice Alchemist — a person brimming with infinite potential, yet one who is also supremely ignorant, who walks forward with his eyes closed and often unknowingly causes harm in his great ignorance. In this, he is very much the embodiment of the faults we most commonly associate with teenagers — selfishness, recklessness, shallowness, a lack of dedication or empathy when it’s most needed. Like most people, he has good traits that work to balance out some of the above, but his narrative path through GX ends up being that of the flawed hero undone by his faults — and then that of the atoner, the repentant sinner. In his case, the mistakes of his teenage years are the catalyst for his growth from a boy into a man burdened with duty and purpose. Judai is someone with infinite potential, with great power, but also ignorant on how he should use that power, and that makes him an incredibly flawed hero who needs to learn how that power should be used.

Deku similarly exists in a society where heroes deliberately turn a blind eye to the suffering of a certain type of victim. Shigaraki’s speech heavily resmebles Satou’s speech about garbage on the side of the road.

Shigarali: "For generations you pretended not to see those you coudln't protect and swept their pain under the rug. It's tainted everything you've built."

Deku shares Judai’s ignorance, because he’s not only a part of a system that doesn’t even see trash on the side of the road, but he also worships heroes so much that he’s incapable of criticizing them. If Deku saw the flaws of heroes, but at first didn’t have the courage to speak out, but eventually gained the courage that would be one thing. However, if he doesn’t see the flaws of heroes, then the problem will never be fixed.

There are also consequences for both Judai and Deku failing to use their powers responsibly. These consequences take the form of the villains who came about because of all of society’s ignorance to the suffering of victims (Shigaraki) and because of the main character’s ignorance to their suffering (Yubel). Shigaraki and Yubel are also explicitly victims that the heroes failed to save, turned into villains who are active threats to the heroes.

Should I save the villain?

The answer is yes, because the decision to save is reflective of the kind of hero each character wants to be. Each story clearly sets up that Deku and Judai aren’t punisher style heroes who shoot their villains, they are being set up as heroes who save. Deku needs to “save by winning.” As for Judai, a big deal is made of Judai’s admiration for another character Johan who represents a more idealistic kind of hero. Johan unlike Judai is someone who duels with a purpose, something Judai outright says he admires because he’s empty in comparison.

Judai: Johan what have you been dueling for? See, it’s about fun for me… Well, for the surprise and happiness too. I guess I do do it for the fun. Sorry, I guess I put you on the spot by asking out of nowhere. Johan: What’s this about Judai? Judai: It’s nothing. Johan: I suppose there is one goal I have. Johan: Even if someone doesn’t have the power to see spirits, they can still form a bond with a spirit. That’s why I do it for people like him. [...] Johan: I'll fight for everyone who believes in me, and I'll do it with my Duel Monsters. Judai: I'm jealous you've got feelings like those in you.

Becoming a hero who uses their power to help others isn’t just a goal the story sets for Judai, it’s a goal that Judai sets for himself because of his admiration for Johan. Johan represents the idealistic hero Judai wants to be, but is also held back from because of his personality flaws. Johan represents the kind of heroic ideal that Deku is aspiring to be.

Johan’s ultimate goal isn’t punishing the wicked, but to use his power to save others.

Johan: Judai, it was my dream to save everyone through my dueling!

The story sets up the idea that it’s not enough for Judai to simply be strong, he’s also challenged to become a savior who uses his power to help others like Johan. Deku needs to “save by winning” and Judai needs to “Save everyone through his dueling.” However, Johan also adds another condition to what saving means. His idea of saving isn’t to defeat a villain, but rather his dream is to help connect spirits and humans together, even if there are humans who can’t see spirits. Johan doesn’t save people with the power of physical force, but rather the power of human connection.

Should I save the villain?

Here the answer is "Yes", because wants to become more like Johan someone who uses their power to help others not just for themselves. Then we reach the third question

If I don't save the villain, can I really call myself a hero?

It once again comes to power and responsibility. Heroes have great power, and they are responsible in how they use that power, if they use it irresponsibly then there are consequences. Shigaraki wants to destroy hero society, because the heroes irresponsibly use their power to turn a blind eye to everyone’s suffering.

People suffer when heroes fail to live up to their responsibilities. The entire conflict of season 3 is created by Judai failing to save Yubel. If Judai had helped Yubel when they most needed it, instead of abandoning them, then Yubel would never have been twisted by the light of destruction, would never have attempted to teleport the school to another dimension, would never have attacked all of JUdai’s friends.

These consequences matter. Deku can turn his eyes away from Shigaraki’s suffering, but let’s say a hero failed to stop a robbery, or rather he didn’t even try, and because of that his mom was shot and died in the street. Would Deku consider the man who failed to stop a bank robbery a hero? When Spiderman let a bank robber go instead of trying to stop him, was he being a hero in that moment? Both the stories and the characters themselves have defined heroes as people who use their powers to save others, therefore if Judai and Yubel fail to save their villains then they can’t be called heroes by the story’s own definition. Now let’s finally return to the question of "Can I save the villain?"

Was there ever someone you couldn’t save?

m going to start with Yu-Gi-Oh Gx as a positive example of how to save your villain. Gx works for two reasons. One, it’s established from the start that Yubel isn’t beyond salvation, and two, it makes it so Judai can’t win without saving Yubel. The conflict of the story does not end until Judai makes the decision to save Yubel. In some ways the writing is even stronger because Judai is directly responsible for the pain and suffering that Yubel went through that turned them into a villain in the first place. Yubel isn’t just a victim, they’re specifically Judai’s victim.

Yubel is a duel spirit who is also essentially Judai’s childhood friend. A duel spirit just like the kind that Johan wants to save. During their childhood Yubel got too overprotective of Judai, and started to curse his friends for making him cry or upsetting him in any way. Until everyone Judai’s age started avoiding him and Judai became all alone with only Yubel for company. Judai’s decision was to abandon Yubel at that time. He took the yubel card and shot them into space, hoping that being bathed in space rays will somehow “fix” what was wrong with them. I know that’s silly but just go with it. Judai abandoning Yubel had the unintended consequence of Yubel being subjected to the light of destruction, a corrupting light that subjected Yubel to years of pain. This pain literally takes the form of Yubel burning alive.

Yubel connected to his dreams called out for Judai every night, only for Judai’s parents to give him surgery that repressed his memories of Yubel causing him to forget them entirely. Yubel then spent the next ten years alone in space, continuously subjected to painful torture, with their cries for help being ignored.

"I was suffering even as you came to forget about me..."

Yubel is then met with the question of how can Judai treat them this way if they loved him so much? As from Yubel’s perspective, they’ve only ever tried to protect Judai, only for Judai to not only throw them away, but subject them to painful torture and ignore their cries for help. Judai effectively moves on with his life, goes to duel academy, makes friends while Yubel is left to suffer in silence all but forgotten. This is where Judai’s ignorance has serious plot consequences.

It’s not just the pain that Yubel endured that made them snap. It’s that their pain went ignored.

Yubel holds out the faint hope that Judai will answer their calls fro help until they finally burn up upon re-entry into earth’s orbit. At which point they’re left as nothing more than a single hand crawling on the ground. Yubel who cannot fathom why Judai would cause them so much pain, and then forget about them, convinces themselves that Judai must be causing them pain, BECAUSE he loves them.

But you see, I couldn't possibly forget about you in the time that I've suffered...

Judai is allowed to move on with his life, to make friends, to spend the next ten years doing so while Yubel is subjected to ten years of agony. When they finally escape their painful torment, they see all the friends Judai has made while they’re left alone and forgotten. However, Yubel’s goal isn’t revenge. Rather, it’s to make Judai share and recognize their pain. WHich is why I said it’s not the fact that they were made to suffer, but their suffering is ignored. Yubel’s entire philosophy revolves around the idea that sharing pain is an expression of love, and that they and Judai share their love for each other by hurting each other.

"That's why I sought to fill all those linked to you, your world, with both sadness and anguish..."

For Yubel, making all of Judai’s friends suffer and Judai themselves suffer is a way of making them and Judai equals again. They want to show “their love” for Judai, but it’s more about forcing Judai to recognize the pain he’s caused them by forcing him through the same pain. Yubel’s philosophy of sharing pain is actually a twisted form of empathy.

They’re not entirely wrong either, that even people who love each other can cause each other pain, and that if one person is suffering alone in a relationship or the suffering is one-sided then there’s something wrong with that relationship.

Yubel: I get it now… You weren’t in love, with Echo. Yubel: No.. you may have loved her just enough to clear the conditions in palace for you to control Exodia, but the you didn’t truly love each other. Yubel: You were only unfairly hurting her, while you stayed unharmed. You wouldn’t suffer. You wouldn’t suffer. You wouldn’t be in pain. Amon: What are you getting at? Yubel: I’ve been hurt! I’ve suffered! I’ve been in pain. That’s why I’m making JUdai feel the same things I did!

Yubel’s twisted theory of love, is a pretty thinly veiled cry for empathy.

They break out into tears when talking to Amon about the way they’ve hurt and suffered. They clearly state upfront that their goal is for Judai to recognize their love. One of the first things they say to Judai is a plea for Judai to remember them.

Yubel is presented as a very human character suffering through a lot of pain throughout their entire villai arc, they break down into tears multiple times, they cry out in agony, they're visibly suffering and you see their mental walls begin to break down when Judai denies them any empathy.

Yubel is actually incredibly clear and straightforward about their desire to be saved by Judai. However, Judai doesn’t lift a single finger to help Yubel the entire arc, even though they themselves admit they are directly responsible for Yubel’s suffering but they helped create who they are today.

Judai plunges into a different dimension and gives up everything to save someone, but it’s Johan, not Yubel they try to save. You have Johan, the perfect friend, and perfect victim that Judai gets obsessed over and will not stop at anything to save, and then you have Yubel, the imperfect victim that is actively harming Judai and all of his friends that Judai chooses to ignore. The whole season Judai only focuses on saving the perfect victim Johan, and this is clearly shown to be a flaw. Judai doesn’t just ignore Yubel to save Johan, he also ignores every single one of his friends.

Judai only caring about saving Johan, and deliberately ignoring and abandoning the friends who came with him to help, essentially abandoning them the way he did Yubel leads to another consequence. After he abandons them they get captured, rounded up, and actually die and become human sacrifices.

Losing his friends, causes Judai to snap. Judai becomes the supreme king and decides power is all that matters; he starts killing duel spirits en masse in order to forge the super polymerization card. Which means being left alone, suffering alone, being abandoned by everyone causes Judai to snap the exact same way that Yubel did.

In fact Judai is only saved from his darkest moment, because two of his friends sacrifice their lives, trying to get through to him and appeal to his humanity. At that point Judai’s friends could have just chosen to put him down like a mad dog, to punish him for the amount of people he’s killed, but instead they try to save him because of their friendship.

I just want to save my friend. That is all.

By the time Judai is facing Yubel in their final fight, Judai doesn’t have the moral highground against Yubel in any way whatsoever. They’ve both lashed out because of the pain they endured and killed countless people in the process of lashing out. The only real difference between them is that Judai is lucky. He had friends to support him at his lowest point, while Yubel didn’t. Does Judai learn from Jim’s example, and go out of their way to save Yubel the same way they were saved because Yubel is still a friend? Nope, Judai tries to kill Yubel at this point.

I made a lot of friends... And they all taught me something… real love is wide enough, large enough and deep enough to fill the universe. Your so-called love is only a conceited delusion.

Like, Judai, sweetie baby honey darling. How was Yubel supposed to make friends when they were floating in the empty void of space?

Judai hasn’t learned, they are still ignorant, and still turn a blind eye to Yubel’s suffering. After all if his love is wide enough, large enough,and deep enough to fill the universe then why don’t thy have any room in their heart whatsoever for empathizing with Yubel?

Judai making friends while Yubel was trapped in space doesn’t make Judai a better person than Yubel, it makes Judai lucky. Judai doesn’t even appreciate that luck, because he treats his friends like garbage. It’s not about whether Yubel is worthy of salvation, because Judai is a mass murderer and his friends still went to great lengths to save them anyway. It’s that Judai doesn’t want to empathize with Yubel, because they still want to remain ignorant and irresponsible. Judai wants to continue playing hero, with a very black and white definition of what a hero is. By this point Judai’s killed lots of people, but if he makes Yubel the villain in the situation, he can keep playing hero. He doesn’t have to look at himself and what he’s done, because blaming everything that happened on Yubel and then putting Yubel down like a mad dog allows Judai to absolve his own guilt. Judai practically ignores Yubel’s cries for help, even when Yubel spells it out for them.

I couldn't have lived with the heartache unless I felt that I was being loved...

At this point Yubel themselves acknowledges that their love was just a delusion. That it was a coping mechanism, because they couldn’t live with all the pain otherwise. WIthout it they would have just died, which makes Judai unmoved. The implication here is that Judai thinks yes, Yubel should have just died in that crater. It would have been easier for Yubel to die a perfect victim, then for Yubel to crawl out of that crater and go on to hurt other people. While that may be true the same can be said for Judai - it would have been better if Judai died rather than become the Supreme King. His friends could have put him down like a mad dog, you could have even called that justice - but they didn’t. Judai making no attempt to save Yubel isn’t because he thinks it’s morally wrong to save someone who’s killed as many people as Yubel has, or because he thinks he can’t forgive Yubel, it’s because Judai is taking the easy way out. Johan is a nice, easy victim to save, because he’s Judai’s perfect boyfriend, while Yubel is a complex victim that requires Judai to understand their suffering. Even the act of saving Johan isn’t about Johan himself, it’s about the fact that Judai feels guilt over Johan’s disappearance. What Judai wants isn’t really to save a friend, but to stop feeling guilty over that friend. Judai isn’t just disgusted by Yubel’s actions towards his friend, he also wants to avoid the guilt he feels over causing all of Yubel’s suffering, because it requires acknowledging the complex reality that he is both victim and perpretrator in this case, just as Yubel is both victim and perpetrator.

So how can an arc where Judai doesn’t try to save Yubel until the last possible minute, be better than an arc where Deku makes it his goal for the final act of the manga to save the crying boy in Shigaraki?

It’s because the story does not let Judai get away with his continual refusal to empathize with Yubel. Yubel’s entire character revolves around empathy, in the form of sharing pain. As a duel monster, Yubel’s effect is that they are a 0/0 attack monster who is immune to all damage, but when you attack them they deal all the damage back to you. Which means that Yubel will respond to all the pain they feel, by causing you just as much pain in return. Yubel is not a character who can be defeated in a fight, or a duel. In fact they’re the only Yu-Gi-Oh villain who never loses a duel once. The most Judai can do is duel them to a draw, and they draw three times. Yubel wins against everyone else who challenges them. In a way Yubel is like Shigaraki, the ultimate, unkillable enemy that can’t be done away with violence. Judai’s refusal to empathize with Yubel or attempt communication also makes them worse, every time Yubel is hurt they escalate. THe more Judai hurts them, the more they will hurt in return, it’s a cycle that will never be broken simply by killing Yubel, because Yubel is unkillable.

Not only that but the story has gone to great lengths to show that saving Yubel is the correct course of action. If Judai doesn’t save Yubel, he’s basically spitting on the selflessness Jim showed in saving him. In fact if he doesn’t save Yubel, Judai is contradicting his own words on what makes a good friend. Sho once asks Judai after witnessing his brother change, what he should do if a person you lov ehas changed into an entirely different person. What if they're a person you don't even recognize any more? A person you don’t even necessarily like anymore?

That's why if it were me. I'd probably just be looking after him until the very end, even if I didn't like him. I'd do it cause I think it'd prove that I care about him.

Judai doesn't even say that Sho is obligated to save his brother or morally redeem him, just that he has to keep looking at him instead of turning away or ignoring him.

Judai is being a bad friend, by his own definition. By choosing to deliberately look away from Yubel, Judai’s not living up to his advice for Sho for how you treat people you care about.

Which is why the resolution for Judai and Yubel’s arc is so important, because it’s done by Judai finally acknowledging Yubel’s pain, and promising to watch over them from now on, words that are followed by the action of physically fusing their souls together so they’ll never be alone again. Judai doesn’t just say pretty words about how they won’t ignore the crying child inside of Yubel, but instead he makes a sacrifice to save Yubel at risk to themselves to show their words are backed up by actions. Judai says Yubel will never be alone again, and then he commits.

"And even if that means I won't exist anymore... I don't care."

Judai has resolved his character arc by this action, because Judai is finally taking on responsibility and that responsibility is watching over Yubel, so the two of them can atone together. Judai even says himself this isn’t an act of sacrifice on his part, but rather him finally accepting adult responsibilities.

Judai: I wouldn't sacrifice myself for you guys. I'm just going on a journey to grow from a kid into a man.

Judai needed to save Yubel to complete his character arc and grow as a person. If Judai hadn’t saved Yubel, he would have still remained an ignorant child. By learning not to turn a blind eye to Yubel’s pain, and also smacking sacrifices and physically doing something to atone for the way they ignored Yubel up until this point they’ve not only saved Yubel they’ve also done something to address their wrongs. This also continues into the fourth season where Judai’s personal growth results in him learning what kind of hero he wants to be as in Season 4 in order to atone for the spirits that Judai slaughtered, he decides to leave his friends behind and walk the earth with Yubel helping spirits and humans get along with each other. In fact Judai’s final speech as a character isn’t even about how strong he is as a hero, but how weak he is as a person.

And I put my friends through some rough times. Form that, I figured a few things out... all I can do is believe in them.

The lesson Judai learned is because he’s weak, he needs to empathize and believe in other people the same way that his friends once believed in him when he was at his lowest point. Judai’s not the strongest hero, he’s the weakest one, but that gives him the ability to empathize with people who were lost just like he was, and guide them back from the darkness.

The story of how Deku became the worst hero.

I’m going to say this right now it might turn out next week that Shigaraki is just fine, and he’ll use the overhaul quirk to reconstruct his body. However, even if that happens Deku has completely failed at his goal of saving Shigaraki for the reasons I’ll illustrate below. In theory, Deku’s arc of saving Shigaraki, and therefore winning by saving should be much easier for the story to accomplish and also much less frustrating to watch. After all, Shigaraki has been around since the beginning of the manga, he’s literally the first villain that Deku faces. He’s also the first villain that Deku talks to, where he brings up the idea that there were some people All Might failed to save. There’s also many intentional parallels between the two characters, the entire manga is about their parallel journeys of becoming the next generation hero and the next generation villain. Shigaraki even directly quotes the line at one point that all he wanted was for someone in his house to tell him he could still be a hero, the same line Deku said in the first chapter was that he wanted his mom to tell him to be a hero instead of apoalogizing to him for being quirkless.

Not only is the setup for Shigaraki and Deku made obvious (Deku can redeem Shigaraki by telling him that he can still be a hero too), but Deku himself states out loud that he wants to save the crying child inside of Shigaraki.

Judai runs away from Yubel the whole time, whereas Deku is running towards Shigaraki and actively makes it his goal to understand Shigaraki and continue to see him as a human being rather than a villain. The story also makes it clear that saving Shigaraki is necessary to saving hero society as a whole. After all Yubel is just Judai’s victim. Whereas Shigaraki is the victim of all of society. He’s the crying child who was ignored. The cycle won’t be broken if heroes continue choosing to ignore people like Shigaraki, because more victims will grow up to replace him.

Shigaraki: Everything I've witnessed, this whole system you've built has always rejected me. Now I'm ready to reject it. That's why I destroy. That's why I took this power formyself? Simple enough, yeah? I don't care if you don't understand. That's what makes us heroes and villains.

Shigaraki rejects the world because the world continues to reject him. THe solution to this problem is not rejecting Shigaraki, because Shigaraki won’t go away, the system will just continue to reject people like Shigaraki. As long as heroes and villains don’t understand each other, they’ll keep being forced to fight and the conflict won’t end, because hero society is what engineers it’s own villains.

clear as day by the story itself. If the objective of saving Shigaraki is clear, then how exactly did the story fail in this objective? What went wrong? In this case it’s a failure of framing, and breaking the rules of “show don’t tell.” Stories are all about actions and consequences. When a character makes a certain action in a story, the way other characters around them, the world, and whatever consequences that action frames that action in a certain light. It provides context for how we are supposed to interpret that character in that moment.

For example, when a character does something wrong and another character directly confronts them over what they did wrong, that frames them as in the wrong. The story is criticizing the character for what they did wrong. Context is everything in a story. Stories are just ideas, so they require framing and context to communicate those ideas for the audience. Certain character attributes can be strengths or flaws depending on the context. My go to example is that if you put Othello in Hamlet, the conflict would be resolved in five seconds because Othello’s straightforward personality and determination would have him kill Hamlet’s uncle without questioning things. Whereas, Hamlet constantly questioning and second guessing himself would lead to the worst ending possible. However, if you put Hamlet in Othello, then Hamlet wouldn’t fall prey to Iago’s manipulations, because Othello doubts and questions everything so he wouldn’t believe Iago the way Othello did.

Hamlet’s contemplative and introverted nature can be a strength in one situation, and a flaw in another. Othello’s tendency to act without thinking things through can be a strength in one situation, and a flaw in another. Context matters, because context tells you how you’re supposed to interpret a certain characters actions, and therefore tells you more about that character. This is why people repeat “Show don’t tell” as the golden rule of storytelling, it’s one thing to say something about a character, it’s another to us the characters actions in the story itself to show them something about the character.

What’s even worse then breaking the rules of show don’t tell however, is telling the audience one thing, and then going onto show in the narrative something completely different. In that case the narrative becomes muddled and confusing to read. If I the narrator say “Hamlet is someone who overthinks everything” and then in the story Hamlet walks up to his uncle and kills him with no hesitation, then the narrator is straight up unreliable. It becomes impossible to tell as an author what message I’m trying to get across about these characters, because I’m telling you one thing and showing another.

This is why the writing fails in the second half of My Hero Academia because we are constantly told one thing, but then the story shows something entirely different and sometimes even contradictory to the thing we are being told.

Judai is a much worse hero than Deku, he always runs away from Yubel, and we’re never directly told that he’s supposed to save Yubel either. However, the narrative is incredibly consistent. Judai’s behavior of running away is consistent with his character. All the other character call Judai selfish for abandoning his friends (and they’re not even talking about Yubel). Judai is never painted in any positive light for his actions, therefore we as the audience understand Judai’s behavior is wrong and he needs to fix it. The narrative makes it clear that Judai needs to grow up, and Judai is never rewarded for his refusal to grow up, he’s ruthlessly chewed out, not by his enemies but also by his own friends. However, the narrative isn’t merciless on him either. Season 3 of GX is dark, but it’s not grimdark. Even when Judai loses his way, he’s still shown love and compassion by those same friends who go to great lengths for his sake. The narrative criticize Judai but it never insists that he’s beyond redemption and needs to be put down like a mad dog.

The message is very clear, that not only does Judai need to grow up, but he also deserves the chance to grow and change, which is why he should give Yubel a similar chance. In comparison the story sets out this clear narrative arc for Deku of understanding Shigaraki, but it never challenges him for failing to understand Shigaraki. If you listen to what the narrative says, how other characters describe Deku, and what Deku himself says and only read it on a surface level then yes, Deku’s goal is to save Shigaraki. If you analyze actions however, he is in effect just like Judai he never takes any meaningful action or steps towards Shigaraki, nor does he think of what saving Shigaraki might look like or entail.

The story describes Deku as someone who is possessed by a drive to save others that eclipses all common understanding, but does the story give us any examples of that behavior?

Judai is characterized as a selfish, irresponsible child, and the story gives us countless examples of his immaturity and how it hurts others. Does the story of MHA do the same for Deku's purported virtues? Let’s run through Deku’s actions, step by step, the actions themselves and how they are framed in order to find any evidence that Deku possesses this drive to save others. Does Deku reflect at all on the question of:

Can Shigaraki be Saved?

Deku leaves on a journey to try to understand villains. When he makes a perfunctory attempt to understand and empathize with Muscle, and Muscle replies that some people are just evil does Deku keep trying to reach his heart? Nope, he just punches him.

Well, if he’s failed in his goal of understanding a villain then does the story call him out on his failure? Does Deku face any sort of narrative consequence for that failure? Is he framed negatively for failing to understand Muscle, the same way that Judai is framed for abandoning Yubel? Nope. Deku doesn’t express any frustration at all over is inability to reason with Muscle. There’s also no negative consequence for Deku just choosing to punch muscle, it turns out that there was no reasoning with Muscle and some people are just bad eggs so Deku was right. It’s okay for characters to fail, but if a character fails and it’s not framed by the story as a failure then the writing itself as failed. Why even bother to include this scene in the first place if it doesn’t advance Deku’s character in any way? This scene in spite of showing Deku failing to understand someone actively paints Deku in a positive light, because of how much stronger he is ow that he can OHKO a guy that gave him trouble all the way back in the camp arc.

This scene doesn’t tell anything about Deku as a character, it just makes him look cool. In fact that’s precisely the problem, Deku isn’t adequately challenged as a character, because he’s never allowed to fail. Even when he does obviously fail at the things the narrative set out for him to do, he’s never challenged on those failures, because the priority isn’t to make Deku grow, it’s to make Deku look good. As I said before, Judai is the hero because he’s the weakest. Deku is the hero because he’s the strongest. Well, next a big flaw on Deku’s part is that he worshippd the same heroes that were making the world corrupt. Heroes like Endeavor who created people like Dabi. So, does Deku take action to either criticize the older generation of heroes, or separate himself from them in order to try to be better than them? Nope, he teams up with them. Not only that, Deku can’t do something as simple as tell Gran Torino out loud about his plans to save Shigaraki. If Deku feels that Shigaraki is worthy of salvation then he should at least try to make an argument here about his ideal of saving others.

Now here’s the thing, if Deku hadn’t directly looked at the camera and told us he wanted to save Shgiaraki, would we be able to deduce his intentions from his actions? If you took away all of Deku’s internal monologue, and just showed him punching Muscular and saying nothing when Gran Torino says he may have no choice but to kill Shigaraki would anything about Deku’s actions indicate that he wants to save Shigaraki? Let me use avatar the last airbender as a positive example for a moment. People say that Aang’s desire to spare Ozai’s life comes out of left field, but like if you analyze Aang as a character down to their bending, and the way they react in situations they always prefer de-escalation, or taking a third option as opposed to confronting things head on. It’s literally why Toph says Aang has trouble learning earth bending, because as an airbender, he always tries to look for some other way to solve the problem, instead of a direct confrontation with force. As early as season one, Aang tells Zuko someone who has tried to kill him several times that he was friends with someone from the fire nation one hundred years ago and in a different situation they could be friends. Aang’s desire to save the Firelord may not have been told to us until the last possible minute, but Aang’s aversion to violence has always been a part of his character from the beginning. However, Deku never shows any similar aversion to violence. There’s basically no example where he ever tries to de-escalate a situation, or he avoids a conflict by seeking a third option.

Anyway, let’s move onto the next example. In the confrontation where Lady Nagant fights Deku, when Deku learns the fact that the heroes were employing government hitmen to attack people for uhh… exercising free speech does Deku give any reaction to this information? When Lady Nagant says that Deku is only going to bring back the status quo, does he show her any meaningful evidence that he won’t do that.

Deku’s response is because the world is so grey, he needs to extend a helping hand to others. Which you know what thay could be a response. Deku saying that his response to the corruption of the hero world is that he now understands that society led some people down the wrong path, so his way of addressing the wrongs of that society is lending a helping hand to as many people as possible even people he used to think was irredeemable.

I will give Deku the benefit of the doubt, I think this is an acceptable answer. I can’t save everyone, but that’s not going to stop me from trying to save as many people as possible and maybe I can save people who were this society’s victims on the way too. However, does Deku demonstrate his resolve to extend a helping hand in any meaningful way.

Deku is met with an armless, insane Overhaul who’s begging for someone to help heal his father figure in the Yakuza from his coma. This isn’t like Muscular who insists that there’s no helping him, Deku is met face by face with someone asking him for help. Deku’s gotta extend a helping arm whenever he can, because he knows some people were abandoned and led astray by this society… Unless that person is someone he doesn’t like personally. At which point he only helps them on a conditional basis. We are told Deku will save anyone and everyone, but Deku is met face to face with an armless man who is begging for help and Deku’s does nothing to help him. Deku’s not criticized for refusing to help overhaul either, it’s never brought up again. When Deku begins to experience a mental breakdown because of all the people he’s trying to help in the Dark Deku arc, we are told this is the result of Deku trying to save everyone, but we do not see Deku attempting to save a single villain after Muscular and Nagant.

He exhausts himself beating up villains that AFO sends after him, and only helping innocent civilians. Which would be fine if this arc were about how Deku is running away from his real responsibilities the same way that Judai was running, but that’s not what we’re being told. We are told that this is all part of an arc of Deku learning to understand villains and be a hero.

Deku is asked “Can you save Shigaraki?” by the story, but Deku never at any point has to deliberate on that question. Judai doesn’t deliberate on that question either, but him choosing not to think about things and stay ignorant is the point.

It’s actually fine to make Deku stagnate as a character. It’s fine to have him take the easy way out by just punching villains and giving up on them after one conversation. It’s fine for him to be empathetic to other people’s suffering, or even self-righteous. It’s fine for him to be ignorant.

He could be all of those things if it was a part of a narrative teaching him to unlearn his behavior. In fact the narrative might have been better if Deku started out by saying he didn’t want to save Shigaraki, that there was no choice but to kill him, because then at least his actions would be consistent with his words. Then his lack of empathy and his tendency to resort to violently beating up villains instead of avoiding violence would be character flaws he could work on. Deku however, is presented to us as this empathic hero who is always willing to give others a second chance though he never actually sticks his neck out in order to do so. Continuing on with our slow crawl through MHA, one of Deku’s friends is revealed as the traitor. Deku has a heartwarming scene fo saying that Aoyama can still be a hero, but look at his actions. He lets the adults in the room physically tie Aoyama in a straightjacket and imprison him, for the crime of… doing bad things while he was in a hostage situation. Apparently, if a bank teller helps the bank robber by giving them money when the robber has a gun to his head, the swat team should just snipe the bank teller. Not only does he not defend Aoyama against the adults, or stand up for him, or tell the adults they’re wrong to treat Aoyama a clear cut victim who had a gun to his head and was bing held hostage like he’s a villain - he also lets the adults use Aoyama an innocent victim as bait in order to lure out AFO. Deku tells Aoyama he can still be a hero, but he doesn’t defend Aoyama as a victim of being taken hostage, nor does he stop the adults from further taking advantage of him and throwing him right into danger. Some people are just led the wrong way that’s why they need to be extended a helping hand, but fuck Aoyama I guess. He needs to earn the right to be sympathized with by physically putting his life in danger.

Deku can’t even go out of his way to save a friend who he’s known for the better part of a year, when that friend is a complex victim forced to do bad things.

Then Deku and Uraraka have a conversation where they both, kind of ruminate on the idea that maybe the villains are human beings who are worthy of sympathy.

In fact Uraraka is actively trying to dehumanize Toga by looking at the destroyed city, so she won't have to think of Togaas a person.

The language here is also a major fault of this arc. It focuses far too hard on “forgiveness” over and over again. As I said before, saving Shigaraki isn’t about Shigaraki at all, it’s about Deku, and how he wants to use his power as a hero. Deku has even stated himself that he doesn’t believe that OFA is a power that should be used for killing people. So why does whether Toga or Shigaraki are forgivable or not even matter? It’s the same with Deku refusing Overhaul any sympathy. If he’s so morally opposed to abusers, then why does he work with Endeavor and defend him at every visible opportunity, even in front of his victims? Whether or not Deku can forgive Shigaraki doesn’t matter, because Deku is not the moral arbitrator or right and wrong. In fact Deku doesn’t even have any morals, so how is this a moral debate? Is there any point where Deku gives a clear definition of what he thinks right and wrong is? Does he quot Immanuel Kant to the audience?

Batman doesn’t kill people, not because he thinks that every last person on earth can be saved, but because Bruce Wayne an incredibly rich white man thinks that maybe he shouldn’t have the authority to decide who lives and who dies. When Bruce doesn’t kill the joker, it doesn’t mean he thinks the Jokers actions are forgivable, it’s because Bruce thinks it’s not his place to determine whether someone has the right to live.

The whole conflict that MHA presents us is that heroes pick and choose who to save, and only save the ones they deem as innocent. So, how does Deku saying repeatedly they can’t forgive Shigaraki contribute to that theme in any way? In fact by focusing on forgiveness, rather than whether or not he personally has the right to pick and choose who lives and who dies Deku is ignoring the elephant in the room. The question isn’t about whether Shigaraki’s redeemable or if his deeds should ever be forgiven. The question is whether Deku has the right to decide who gets saved and who doesn’t.

We are told that Deku as a character is someone who wants to save everyone no matter what, so Deku shouldn’t be focusing on whether or not Shigaraki is worthy of forgiveness, he should be making an idealistic argument like Xavier does in this panel. Why doesn’t Deku talk out loud with Uraraka on how he believes his power is for saving others, and not killing? If he’s meant to represent some idealistic hero, then why doesn’t he even talk about his ideals? Why don’t I as the reader know what those ideals are?

I think Xavier’s ideals of forcing the X-men to provide a good example to the mutant community, in order to try to earn the respect of other human beings is wrong, but at least he has ideals. He tries to inspire the other people around him to live up to those ideals. The story can criticize him for his ideals and point out how they’re wrong, while it can also uplift parts of his idelogy like where he believes there are no evil mutants. Deku has a chance to do the same to Uraraka, to tell her clearly, “I don’t think we as heroes have the right to pick and choose who we help…?” but he waffles. Not only does he waffle, but this moment is meant to be read as an indication that both Deku and Uraraka are sympathetic individuals who want to save their villains. They are supposed to look good and idealistic here and they don’t. For Deku it just seems like a repeat of his behavior with Overhaul. The only villains that are worthy of sympathy, are the ones that he personally decides are forgivable.

The story isn’t about whether or not it’s moral to save someone who’s killed as many as Shigaraki has. The story never seriously discusses any sort of complex morality or moral philosophy. Once again to bring up avatar, yes you can argue Aang sparing the life of a war crimminal is bad, but Aang mentions on multiple occasions that he wants to retain the cultural values of the airbending people. Aang has a morality, a consistent morality, it might not be a morality you personally agree with but at least he has one. Deku hates abusers, unless he’s next to Endeavor then he thinks abusers should be given the chance to atone. Deku doesn’t believe that One for All is a power for killing, but he never stands up to any of the adults who are blatantly trying to kill Shigaraki, he doesn’t even express out loud to Uraraka that he doesn’t think heroes have the right to decide who lives and who dies. In fact he’s given the perfect opportunity to, when Hawks kills a villain and it’s broadcast live on the news in font of everyone, but Deku never has anything to say about that. The reason Deku and Uraraka both put such an emphasis on “forgiving” their villains has nothing to do with the story itself. It’s because the author Horikoshi, is afraid that some people will misinterpret his story as saying that he actually thinks that saving a villain like Shigaraki means that he condones mass murder, so he has to have the characters talk about not forgiving Shigaraki.

Judai doesn’t have any consistent morals either, but once again that’s the point and something the story relentlessly calls him out on.

Cobra: Fortune would never smile on a fool like you who fights while prattling on about enjoying duels. Cobra: You are certainly a talented duelist. But you have one fatal flaw. Judai: A fatal flaw? Cobra: Yes, your duels are superficial. Someone who fights with nothing on his shoulders, cannot recover once he loses his enjoyment. What a duelist carries on his shoulders will become the power that supports him when he's up against the wall! Cobra: But you have nothing like that! Those who go through life without anything like that cannot possibly seize victory. Cobra: But I know that nothing I say will resonate with you... because you have nothing to lose but the match. Judai: I... Cobra: Afraid aren't you? Right now, you have nothing to support you.

Judai’s regularly called out for his superficiality. Judai is only a hero because he’s strong and wins fight, he doesn’t feel any responsibility towards other people, and in fact he loathes having to feel responsible for others. Judai isn’t just naive, he deliberately chooses to remain ignorant. Since he’s ignorant of his own faults, he makes awful decisions when it comes time for him to lead, and his friends die because of choices he made. We are told that Deku doesn’t want to remain ignorant, that he wants to understand villains, but Deku’s actual actions are him continuing to ignore society’s ills and the suffering of victims. In fact if you take away Deku’s internal monologue and the narration, Deku’s actions almost exactly mirror Judai’s.

Deku is just as superficial as Judai, and he also doesn't want to spend any time thinking about what kind of hero he wants to be, but the narrative never punishes him for it.

Judai is asked what burdens he has to bear and he has to meaningfull answer that question, Deku is allowed to get away with not having to think about anything. Deku remains superficial. Both Judai and Deku spend the entire arc running away from their villain rather than confronting them in any meaningful way. They both never express out loud any sympathy for their villain, or try to empathize. THey both never step down from the role of hero, and only confront their villain as a hero, because they don’t want to think about themselves as complicit or in the wrong. Shigaraki and Deku’s final confrontation mirrors Judai and Yubel’s but without the same clear framing. THe entire time Yubel is trying to get Judai to empathize with them, and Judai only responds with physical violence, because they don’t want to stop being the hero and because they can’t see Yubel as anything other than the villain. As soon as Deku arrives on the battlefield (by the way everyone else and their mom pointed this out, but Deku who doesn’t think OFA is a power for killing, is completely okay with a plan called the “Sky coffin plan” where every other hero was clearly trying to murder Shigaraki).

When Deku arrives he asks if Shigaraki is still in there, but he doesn’t do anything to try to reach Shigaraki, he jumps right to punching him. In fact he never tries anything besides punching him as hard as possible. How is punching Shigaraki with the force of a thousand suns saving him exactly? How is that different from how he tried to defeat Shigaraki the last war arc, before he saw the image of the crying child that made him want to try a different approach in saving Shigaraki? In Judai’s final fight with Yubel, it’s made explicitly clear that Judai is not trying to save Yubel, and that’s a fault on his part. In fact Judai gives the traditional “I have friends, and you don’t” speech to Yubel but it’s a subversion of how that speech is usually used. Usually that speech is used to show that the protagonist won because of they valued friendship,while the villain treated their friends poorly and only cared about power. However, it’s ironic in this case because Judai got all of his friends killed. Judai treats his friends like garbage. This speech isn’t used to show that Judai is winning because he values his friends more than Yubel does, it shows that Judai is a hypocrite, playing the hero in this situation where they are just as bad as Yubel. Judai’s not morally superior, he’s just lucky that he has good friends. Friends that were willing to save him. The only connection Yubel has to anyone else, Yubel’s only friend is Judai and Judai is a shit friend.

In fact, Mirio tries to give a version of the “You don’t have any friends” speech to Shigarkai, only for Shigaraki to get mad and tell Mirio that he does have friends and people he wants to protect.

This fact is also something that is blatantly ignored by Deku, even though Mirio tells him about it… even though we are told that Deku is trying his best to see the humanity in Shigaraki.

Judai blatantly admits they’re trying to kill Yubel. Which makes them a worse person, but a better character than Deku, because their actions are clearly framed by the narrative and consistent.

On the other hand we are told that Deku doesn’t want to kill Shigaraki, and yet everything Deku does makes it look like he’s just trying to kill Shigaraki and put him out of its misery. If we didn’t have Deku stating out loud that he wants to save Shigaraki and wants to see him as a human, there’d be nothing in his actions to indicate that he’s trying to avoid killing Shigaraki. Deku says he can’t pretend he didn’t see Shigaraki crying, but like, does he ever hesitate to punch Shigaraki, does he ever think that causing Shigaraki more harm is wrong when he’s already suffered so much? Deku says that Shigaraki is a person but does he treat him like a person? Does he try to talk to him like a person? To use avatar again, Aang does talk to Zuko pretty early on. Deku doesn’t even give the classic “We could have been friends under different circumstances” speech. When Shigaraki resists Deku’s attempts to see him as a person or emapthize with him, Deku’s response is to just resort to punching harder.

Which is in effect the same thing Judai does to Yubel, just kill them as a villain so they don’t hurt anybody else, but framed in an entirely different light. Judai is shown to be ruthless, and cold in his attempt to only settle the conflict with Yubel by violently putting them down. On the other hand we’re being told that Deku is compassionate and empathic while he punches Shigaraki with the force of a thousand suns.

There’s another eerie similarity between both of these final confrontations. At the climax of the confrontation, both Judai and Deku have a psychic vision where they see events from Yubel and Shigaraki’s childhood. This vision is supposed to help both characters understand the good in the villain they’re facing.

Let’s see the contents of this vision and how the visions change each character. Judai is shown a vision of his past life where Yubel sacrifices their entire body, and even their humanity to go through painful surgery to turn into an ugly dragon, all for the sake of protecting Judai in a previous life.

Judai is then forced to witness the good side of Yubel they’ve been ignoring all along to paint them as a villain. Yubel is simultaneously extremely selfish and willing to hurt people Judai cares about, but they’re also extremely selfless and will do anything to protect Judai and have made great sacrifices in the past for Judai’s sake. Deku gives lip service to not ignoring the humanity in Shigaraki, but Judai is literally forced to acknowledge the humanity in Yubel. Not only that, but Judai changes his behavior immediately after learning this new information. After seing the sacrifice that Yubel made for him in the past, Judai responds with a sacrifice of his own. A sacrifice that perfectly mirrors the sacrifice that Yubel once made for him. Yubel gave up their humanity for Judai, so Judai fuses his spirit to Yubel’s, becoming a human / spirit hybrid so Yubel no longer has to be alone.

Judai also doesn’t just fuse their soul with Yubel’s in order to stop Yubel from destroying everything, it’s because both of them at this point need to atone together, and Judai is fulfilling his responsibility of watching over his friend until the end to prove that you care about them - as he said to Sho. Judai’s also fulfilling Johan’s dream of helping repair the bonds between spirits and humans, by reconciling with Yubel and repairing their bond. It’s also Judai atoning for his previous behavior of abandoning Yubel, by choosing to stay alongside them as they both atone together. Deku does sacrifice OFA during the fight against Shigaraki, but their sacrifice isn’t to help Shigaraki, but rather doing psychic damage to Shigaraki by using OFA is the only way to defeat them. He transfers OFA in order to break Shigaraki’s brain so he’ll stop reissting and Deku can beat him down. Judai fuses their soul together with Yubel out of empathy and a responsibility they feel to help their friend fater abandoning them, Deku transfers One for All to Shigaraki in order to hurt him and make him easier to punch. It's funny that Deku doesn't travel to Shigaraki's mind to learn more about him, but instead with the specific intent of harming him.

Once he's inside Shigaraki's mind, he doesn't take time to reflect on how Shigaraki used to stand up for bullied kids, or how he wants to be a hero to villains because no one else will stick up for the outcasts in society. No, he only care about Shigaraki when he takes the form of a child crying for help.

In the aftermath of the psychic vision Deku’s behavior doesn’t change towards Shigaraki in any way either. You could say he sacrificed his own arms in order to try to comfort Shigaraki within the depths of his own mind - but that’s not a real sacrifice either because his arms immediately come back. When Judai learns about the sacrifice that Yubel made in a previous life towards him, he stops seeing Yubel as an enemy and finds a way to resolve things peacefully between them. When Deku lanterns that Shigaraki’s a victim of All for One, and that his entire life was a lie, when he sees Shigaraki’s suffering first hand does his beavior twoards Shigaraki change in any way?

When he sees Afo has taken over Shigaraki’s body again, does he try to shout for Shigaraki, to tell Shigaraki to fight from the inside, to reassure Shigaraki that he’s still in there that there’s still good in him? Nope. He just punches Shigaraki some more.

What Deku needed to tell Shigaraki is so obviously set up by the narrative too. Shigaraki wanted just one person in that house to tell him he could be a hero. Deku wanted his mother to tell him he could be a hero if he was quirkless. Deku sees that Shigaraki started out as a boy who wanted to be a hero, and who was manipulated into being a villain but does he try to appeal to the boy inside of Shigaraki by telling him he can still be a hero? Does he now see the good in Shigaraki? Nope, he just tries to kill him by punching him really hard.

I purposefully chose the images for the banner of this post, because it shows how differently MHA and GX treated its villains in the end. Yubel is embraced by Judai in the end, Shigaraki evaporates into dust.

"Judai, now that our souls have become one we will never be separated again. I have now been filled with your love and power. Let us fight together, against the wave of light leading this universe to destruction!"

Shigaraki could so easily have been given the love and empathy that Yubel was shown, but instead their life ends with no show of empathy from Deku, and with them dying believing that their long life of tragedy meant nothing in the end. Shigaraki realizes he's a crying kid, but he's never comforted.

Shigaraki: I only stole my body back from Master, and I didn't destroy anything. "In the end, I was just as you said... A crying kid, huh?"

Yubel is embraced and comforted, Shigaraki disintegrates into nothing.

One of these stories is apparently an optimistic story about heroes saving people, but it ends with the lifelong victim being killed in the most nihilistic manner possible, never receiving comfort, and never achieving anything with his long life.

The other story is a silly anime about card games, shows that when people are alone and suffering they can lash out and do terrible things. That all people are weak especially when they're alone, but the solution isn't to abandon them, or condemn them for their faults, but to believe in them and help uplift them the same way that Judai decides to uplift Yubel so they can atone together.

Which is why Deku gets an F in being a hero. Go directly to summer school. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $100.

#mha meta #ygo meta #mha 423 #bnha 423 #mha 423 spoilers #bnha 423 spoilers #izuku midoriya #deku #shigaraki tomura #tenko shimura #judai yuki #yubel #soulshipping #yu gi oh gx #yu gi oh

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little-lynx · 2 years ago

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EVERLARK OUTFITS: THE VICTORY TOUR

This part of “Catching Fire” is done (finally) so I put it all together;) DISTRICT 11, THE SQUARE

I go to my compartment and let the prep team do my hair and makeup. Cinna comes in with a pretty orange frock patterned with autumn leaves. I think how much Peeta will like the color. <…> As the train is pulling into the District 11 station, Cinna puts the finishing touches on my outfit, switching my orange hairband for one of metallic gold and securing the mockingjay pin I wore in the arena to my dress. <…> I can hear the anthem beginning outside in the square. Someone clips a microphone on me. Peeta takes my left hand. // Catching Fire, ch. 4

I think this dress should be a little semi-official so I choose cape sleeve sheath midi dress. It’s perfect for autumn (and they have early autumn weather there in 11th). The hair is just plain + gold hairband = girlish innocent look like the one after the games (this tactics they choose for the Tour). Plus I wanted to draw Katniss with her natural straight hair because i draw her with her braid usually ;) And again nothing about Peeta’s outfit. You know I feel like Portia 😅 because I have to choose how to dress Peeta. I’m not complaining through. So it is black suit with golden buttons (matching Katniss’s hairband and pin), thin soft orange sweater and black leather shoes.

DISTRICT 11, THE DINNER

A pale pink strapless dress brushes my shoes. My hair is pinned back from my face and falling down my back in a shower of ringlets. Cinna comes up behind me and arranges a shimmering silver wrap around my shoulders. He catches my eye in the mirror. “Like it?” “It's beautiful. As always,” I say. “Let's see how it looks with a smile,” he says gently. // Catching Fire, ch.5

DISTRICT 7

Jackson has devised a game called «Real or Not Real» to help Peeta. He mentions something he thinks happened, and they tell him if it’s true or imagined, usually followed by a brief explanation. <...> But since Peeta’s greatest confusion centers around me—and not everything can be explained simply—our exchanges are painful and loaded, even though we touch on only the most superficial of details. The color of my dress in 7. My preference for cheese buns. The name of our math teacher when we were little. Reconstructing his memory of me is excruciating. Perhaps it isn’t even possible after what Snow did to him. But it does feel right to help him try. // Mockingjay, ch. 19

So we have only one sentence in “Mockingjay” about this outfit. And still I decided to draw it because I have a theory (head canon?) about it. I think Peeta remembers the color of her dress because it was special night for him (a lot of kisses and attempts to sneak away from everyone and maybe it felt very real at times) and also because she had two braids and the dress was red. RED is the color ❤️. / Peeta has dark red + black + a little bit gold which is also sexy color combination.

DISTRICT 5 I volunteer to take Annie back to my house in 12, where Cinna left a variety of evening clothes in a big storage closet downstairs. All of the wedding gowns he designed for me went back to the Capitol, but there are some dresses I wore on the Victory Tour. <…> Annie wears a green silk dress I wore in 5, Finnick one of Peeta’s suits that they altered— the clothes are striking. <…> As surely as the embroidery stitches in Annie’s gown were done by Cinna’s hand, the frosted flowers on the cake were done by Peeta’s. // Mockingjay, ch. 16

Katniss: green silk dress + wavy sleeves + sea waves embroidery / Peeta: ivory dress shirt + knitted green waistcoat with sea waves embroidery + tweed suit

DISTRICT 2

Girl talk. That thing I've always been so bad at. Opinions on clothes, hair, makeup. So I lie. “Yeah, he's been helping me design my own clothing line. You should see what he can do with velvet.” Velvet. The only fabric. I could think of off the top of my head. “I have. On your tour. That strapless number you wore in District Two? The deep blue one with the diamonds? So gorgeous I wanted to reach through the screen and tear it right off your back,” says Johanna. // Catching Fire, Chapter 15

This description gave me strong “Anastasia” feels 😅. So I loosely based Katniss dress on Anastasia’s ballet evening gown. For Peeta I chose tuxedo jacket similar to Salvatore Ferragamo design for FF 12/13. Neo classic, purple velvet, shiny shoes. Also I decided to include a cane, both to help Peeta to have some rest during all this Tour activities and as an accessory.

DISTRICT 12

When we reach the mayor's house, I only have time to give Madge a quick hug before Effie hustles me off to the third floor to get ready. After I'm prepped and dressed in a full-length silver gown, I've still got an hour to kill before the dinner, so I slip off to find her. <…> She [Madge] saw my reflection behind her and smiled. “Look at you. Like you came right off the streets of the Capitol.” // Catching Fire, ch.6

When I started drawing this one I just felt that I need to make it look very “Capitol”. So I added some feathers. A LOT of sparkling feathers, haha. Also there are some “moon and stars” accessories in Katniss’ hair because this silver gown gives me moonlight vibes. For Peeta I came up with classic suit but made him wear it casually.

#yes I redraw some of them #old ones looked bad #ugh #the hunger games #hunger games fanart #everlark #everlark fanart #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #katniss and peeta #thg fanart #lynx hunger games #lynx thg outfits #victory tour #catching fire #catching fire fanart

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

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Ok James but him and his slytherin girlfriend seem to come out of nowhere and the boys are supportive but are more mad at James for not telling them? Idk I loved your other fic SO MUCH

Thanks for requesting <3

part 1

cw: mention of injury, no details or anything though

James Potter x Slytherin!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You hesitate outside the doorway to the infirmary at the raised voices coming from inside.

You don’t need to be here, strictly speaking. James told you his injury wasn’t bad, and he has his friends to help him if he needs it, but…you can’t settle yourself down. You hadn’t liked the way he’d limped off the field, nor the tiny grimace on his face when Sirius had wrapped a bracing arm under his shoulders. It would be just like James to downplay how hurt he is to make you feel better, and the longer the game had gone on without him the more your guts twisted themselves into knots over the idea that he was in pain.

You’d seethed at yourself and your stupid soft heart all the way to the infirmary, where now you’re frozen just outside like a coward. Something inside you is coiled tight with tension at the idea of going to see James Potter, on purpose and in public, even though that’s dumb because now everyone at Hogwarts knows about the two of you anyway. Your sappy display on the quidditch pitch made sure of that. But now that you have official and widely-known claim to the girlfriend title, you have just as much right to see him as anyone else. You shove your anxiety back into your stomach where it belongs and open the door.

As soon as you’re inside, the voices become clearer. “—like this isn’t a big deal. The Prophet’s going to be all over the two of you by tomorrow, and we had to find out with every other fucking bloke at the school!”

“Pads, you don’t think I would have told you if I could?” James sounds exhausted, and something mutinous throbs in your heart. It’s followed quickly by the more familiar twinge of irritation at the use of those moronic nicknames they all have. “She made me promise not to tell anyone, including the both of you.”

They’re talking about you. Of course they’re talking about you. What else could possibly be more important after James has fallen a good twenty feet off his broom than his dating life? This is why you hadn’t wanted to tell people. Hogwarts wears away at private lives like dementors at souls, and the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin is too strong for your relationship with James to have any hope of remaining untainted once the gossip mill got ahold of it.

Your instincts are screaming at you to turn around and leave before they catch sight of you, but you force yourself to keep walking. If you start letting what people think about you and James affect you now, you’ll never be able to get past it.

Remus is the first to spot you, going still as if you’ve come to hex him, but James’ face splits into a lopsided grin that has the knots in your gut loosening very slightly.

“Especially you,” you say to Sirius as you brush past him, perching by James' pillow and weaving your fingers into his curls. There’s a wrap around his middle. It’s very hard to appear calm and blasé when you feel like you’re going to rupture something if he doesn't promise you he’s okay right this instant. “You’d have had all of Gryffindor talking about us within an hour.”

Sirius bristles but visibly shoves his temper aside, his voice matching your coolness as he says, “If I’d told anyone, Y/L/N, it would have been to inquire about whether anyone’s noticed you gathering ingredients for amortentia recently. James doesn’t keep things from us. Artificial infatuation is the only explanation for why he’d tolerate you and your secrets.”

“Oi,” James says, but you pat his head placatingly. You can fight your own battles.

“That how you got this one?” you jut your chin towards Remus, who’s looking somewhat entertained as he watches the two of you spar. “If I’m ever in need of the recipe, Black, you’ll be the first person I come to, but I don’t need to resort to such measures myself.”

Sirius glowers at you, and James sets his hand on your shoulder just as Remus wraps a pacifying arm around his boyfriend. “Alright, I think that’s enough,” the taller boy says in his usual calm manner, and though Sirius is still tensed for a fight, he allows himself to be drawn into Remus’ side.

James nods in agreement. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, really. I thought I’d get a chance to before everyone found out, but…” He turns up his palms helplessly. “Things didn’t go as planned.”

“We’ll get over it,” Remus says, Sirius quietly fuming beside him. “Won’t we, love?”

Sirius looks up at Remus' face, which is clearly a mistake, because he softens like butter in the sun. “Yeah, yeah, just gimme a bit,” he grumbles halfheartedly. “Anything to keep our Prongsie happy, right?”

James beams, so clearly relieved at the settlement of the conflict that you feel a bit guilty for participating in it. He kisses you on the cheek, chuckling against your skin. “You stink.”

“Some of us stuck around to play the whole game,” you reply.

“Ouch,” James says, but he’s grinning. “Couldn’t really help that, could I?”

You give him a look to let him know you haven’t forgotten how his negligence had gotten him hurt. “Debatable.”

You hear Remus chuckle but don’t take your eyes off James’ face, inspecting it for signs of the pain you suspect he’s hiding. “How bad is it really?” you ask, softening your voice even though there’s no chance of his friends not hearing you.

James worries his lip, big brown eyes looking into yours guiltily. “Pomphrey says I broke three ribs and bruised my tailbone pretty badly. Minor concussion, too, but nothing serious.”

Sounds serious enough to you. You ghost a hand over the back of his head as if you’ll be able to find and fix his hurt. He leans into your palm though, so it’s not for nothing. “I’m sorry I walked away out there,” you all but whisper. “I should have stayed with you.”

James eyebrows pinch together. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he promises just as softly. He knows what it costs you to talk like this in front of people, like you’re turning yourself inside out for them to judge and stab at as they please, but James has no such reservations. He dots a kiss, feather-light, at the top of your cheekbone, wrapping an arm around you protectively. “Thanks for coming, I mean it.”

You clear your throat. “Yeah, and in my fucking quidditch gear,” you say in your normal voice, attempting to banish the heavy mood. As if your heart isn’t still beating, hummingbird-fast and fragile, in your throat. “We both need to change and shower, and then you should rest. Did Pomphrey say you could leave?”

James nods, still looking at you like you’ve cracked open in his hands (he might be right; it feels like you have, and it wouldn’t even be the first time today). He rubs your upper arm affectionately, but his voice is easygoing when he says, “Yup, I’m good to go.”

Sirius steps forward, as though to remind the two of you that he is, in fact, also present. “Great. We’ll walk you back to the room.”

You turn to him, not quite ready for your time with James to be up and aching for the opportunity to dote on him in private. “That’s okay, I can take him.”

Sirius’ eyes narrow. “You can’t even get into our dorms.”

“Please, like Gryffindor’s riddles are so perplexing.”

“I don’t need an escort,” James interjects. He pushes himself up with a grimace.

You halt him with your hands on his shoulders and Remus says, “Don’t be stupid, Prongs, you can barely walk.”

“I’ve got him,” you say firmly. Sirius stares you down, but you don’t flinch from his stony gaze. You know he doesn’t trust you. You don’t think he’d willingly trust any Slytherin. Since you’ve been at Hogwarts, the talk in your house has always been that Sirius Black shuns his family because they’re all Slytherins. Although James assures you there’s more to the story than that, it’s still obvious to anyone that he considers his friends his true family. He won’t entrust just anyone with James’ safety. But maybe that’s one thing you can agree upon.

He must see something of this in your face, because after a minute Sirius relents, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he says. “I wanted to stop by the kitchens anyway.”

James is looking between the two of you curiously, aware that something has transpired but not quite sure what.

You don’t give Sirius a chance to change his mind. “Alright,” you say, gripping James' forearms and helping him to stand. “Let’s go, pretty boy.”

James drapes his arm across your shoulders gamely, and the two of you start out the door. “I don’t think that’s the insult you think it is.”

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 3 months ago

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Instinct

Beast World!AU- If you know nothing about Beast World, that is okay! This is essentially Werewolf!Jason Todd. I don't think I've written something like this before, so if it's bad, it was still fun to try and write. Honestly, this is kinda practice for when October rolls around because I have ideas. ~1.3k words

Jason Todd knows he should be in this cage. He's not quite himself, claws where there should be fingers and fangs where there used to be teeth. He's faster, stronger, larger. His senses are sharper. His body tends to react on instinct before he really knows what he's doing.

So, yes, being behind six inches of polycarbonate ballistic glass in the Batcave is probably a good idea.

If he could still speak, he'd tell you how good it is to see you everyday. Something about seeing you work around the Batcave on a cure, seeing you sit outside his cage and talk to him, is calming. He misses being able to answer you, misses being able to touch you, but it's still nice to hear your voice.

It keeps him from pacing along the walls or scratching at what's left of the bedding.

He's watching you now, head resting on his hands- uh, paws, now- as you push food for him through the small opening in his cell.

He is hungry. He always seems to be hungry. There's an itch under his skin for something more, to be back in the streets of Gotham with blood on his muzzle. You always seem to make that feeling go away. He tracks you as you smile at him and turn to leave. He just needs to have you in his vision. There's no explanation other than this situation is better when you're here, when you're focused on him.

He knows your smell, your scent, even through the glass separating him from the outside world, he knows. Jason has trouble, sometimes, remembering how he knows you. Whatever's made him sick, made him this thing, messes with his thoughts. But even his base instincts know you're special, something to be kept close.

It doesn't really matter what you are to each other, he knows enough. How could he ever forget the feeling of you in his arms? Every memory of you is ingrained in every cell of his body; he just knows. Knows how you look when you laugh, how your tears feel against the pads of his thumbs.

So even if the details come and go, you're a constant. The only reason he's even putting up with this cage.

His ears perk up when Dick comes into view. He lets out a huff at the wave Dick gives him, and turns his focus back to you.

Jason doesn't really listen to what you're talking about, processing words isn't as easy as it used to be, but he lifts his head when Dick leads you down to the training mats.

The fur on the back of his neck raises when you start throwing punches at each other. 'Training. It's just training,' he tells himself. But all rational thought flies out the window when you hit the ground. He slams into the glass. Slams into it again as it cracks. Rams his body into the glass a third time as it finally breaks and splinters around him.

You're worried about Jason. Everyone is. Gotham is in chaos, filled with humans turned animals from a disease no one’s figured out how to cure yet. It makes your stomach twist, to see him locked in a cage, unable to voice what he wants or how he's feeling. You spend more time than not in the Batcave now, talking to him, playing music while you work on trying to cure him.

You know Jason's still in there. You can tell in the way he tilts his head at you, barks out laughs at the stories you tell. But you also know he's not all there.

Sometimes his eyes seem to glow, his gaze will change into something feral as he stalks back and forth. He growls when people get too close to the glass, digs his claws into the fabric littered throughout his cage.

"You need a break," You look up as Dick's voice cuts into your thoughts.

"I know, but I'm close to something. I can feel it," You tell him, eyes darting to the computer running your latest analysis.

Dick glances over at the screen, "Looks like you still have some time on that. Why not spar with me? Get some energy out?"

You think on it, then nod, "Yeah, sure."

Dick grins like it's the best thing he heard all day as he leads you down to the training area, "Better not go easy on me."

You laugh, putting your hands up in a practiced fighting stance, "As long as you don't go easy on me."

Sparring with Dick does actually turn out to be the break you needed. It's almost relaxing to let yourself go on autopilot, dodging his punches and throwing your own in return.

It happens before you realize, that he's hooked his ankle behind your knee. You hit the mat and exhale sharply, making a face at Dick as he grins down at you. He opens his mouth, probably to throw out some remark about having your head in the game, when the sound of glass shattering makes you whip your head towards Jason's cage.

Two-hundred plus pounds of fur and sharpened canines are charging at you.

"Shit," Dick says your name, steps in front of you, but it doesn't do any good when Jason snarls and shoves him to the side.

You barely have time to get a noise out before he's barreled into you, crushing you to his chest and turning to face Dick with a growl.

You sputter out a mouth full of fur, squirming to try and move back. Jason only crouches lower to the ground and holds you tighter.

"Jason, hey, they're not hurt, okay? We were just sparring. No one's in danger." You hear Dick trying to soothe Jason, but you're more distracted by the rumbling of his chest against your face.

You push lightly at him, "Jason, it's okay."

He falls quiet.

Jason knows you're not hurt. Knows Dick wouldn't actually put you in danger. But that didn't stop him from breaking out of his cell. (He really could have done that at any time, but how else would he see you?)

He carefully lets go of you, but keeps his body angled between you and Dick. It's not his fault his brain is screaming that you're in danger. That he should killkillkill anything that threatens you. You're not fragile by any means, but you're so precious. He should be protecting you, not separated from your side by glass.

"Jason," your voice interrupts his thoughts, and he angles his head to look at you. You're sitting down and patting your lap. He tilts his head. "Come here, it's okay."

You sound relaxed, even if your heart rate is elevated, and he finds himself wanting to listen. He drops to the ground, keeping Dick in his line of sight as he rests his head against your legs.

He notes your hesitation before you start petting his head and scratching his ears. He leans happily into your touch. This is what he was missing. He pushes his head against your stomach, wanting you to keep going. Jason doesn't miss the look you give Dick, or the helpless shrug he offers back.

It's not like anyone can stop him from being where he wants. He won't let anyone get close enough to sedate him. And he certainly won't go back in a cage now he knows how nice your hand is against his fur.

No, he'll stay by your side until whatever cure you're working on is done. It'll be nice, he thinks as he cuddles into your side, for both of you. He'll be able to keep you warm, keep you safe. And if there isn't a cure? You'll never have to worry about any of the infected. He won't let anyone near you.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #BeastWorld!AU #Werewolf!Jason

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genderfluid-insomniac · 2 months ago

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Hey, i'm not sure if i can ask u this(u can just not answer if u want)but here i was wondering....

What Would happen if Sun and Mac(separate) met a fem Reader that is an incredibly nice and chill(and very beautiful)person, she's really kind and looks out for them, they bond and become friends in the process, but then after one crazy drunk Night, they don't see the Reader nor hear bout' her for a while(which upsets them a lot), until they run into her again, trying to contain their joy(or frustration if u prefer) they suddenly notice a child behind her,one that looks exactly like them, demanding an explanation, turns out the Reader didn't tell them anything BC they were scared of simply Being Seen as a "one Night stand", not having their feeling Being reciprocated and having their child Being rejected(also didn't want push the fatherly into them) so she raised the child herself, and always made sure to give them all her love despite not having it's father(s) by her Side.

a/n: I got a bit carried away and of course Macaque’s is long because this would shatter his trust and it wouldn’t recover as fast as Wukong would.

One night stand reunion //Sun Wukong x fem!reader x Macaque (separately)

Sun Wukong

When he first met you he swore that love at first sight wasn’t a thing but you were incredibly nice and beautiful, maintaining a chill attitude no matter the situation and easily continuing the conversation naturally.

You both first met at a festival on the outskirts of the city where you found him talking with another boy before catching your gaze. Of course, you knew who he was but it didn’t really matter to you since you just wanted to talk to him.

After a couple of minutes, you both warmed up to one another and talked the night away. You both clearly hit it off immediately and slowly became friends which started edging towards more as you both said flirt after flirt.

One night both of you were having drinks and became tipsy, getting closer and closer with hands roaming up both of your bodies. You kissed passionately and slowly stripped down to nothing, ending the night in each other's arms exhausted and panting harshly.

However as days passed he didn’t see you and started to search all over the city, asking MK and the gang if they’d seen you and describing your features only to find nothing. Anybody could tell Wukong was depressed about your sudden disappearance and tried to cheer him up only for every attempt to fail.

A couple of years later suddenly MK calls Wukong to come to the shop since someone was asking to meet him and zoomed over to meet this stranger. You were nervously pacing back and forth with your child holding onto your hand behind you, poking you to get your attention, and looking wide-eyed at Wukong who stares shocked at you both.

His eyes go from you to your child who is almost a carbon copy of him aside from a few details and back to you, ushering your kid to MK and Pigsy while you listen to his frustration and grievances. He was right on some points and you teared up when you yelled that you were scared he didn’t love you back or worse that he didn’t want the baby so you raised them alone.

There were a few minutes of silence before Wukong kneeled down and peered over at his kid, slowly coaxing them out and smiling warmly when he introduced himself and apologized for not being in their life.

The entire night was emotional for everyone and you all spent the night on FFM, sharing stories from the past years and cuddling each other to make up for lost time.

Macaque

Now you were at a full moon harvest festival when you decided to take a break and hang on the edge of the area when you spotted a dark-furred monkey leaning against a tree. He didn’t seem up to chat and mostly ignored you for a bit, respecting his wishes and sitting in pleasant silence. You heard him sigh and speak up, making a joke about how persistent you were to make conversation.

Macaque was surprised by how insistent you were to talk to him but also how nice you were, respecting his wishes and relaxing next to him. You were gorgeous on top of how amazing your personality was it made him want to know you more than just a stranger but his fractured trust issues made it hard to get to know you better.

Unlike Wukong it takes a couple of weeks to become good friends and a couple of months to get to that night where you get drunk, leaning on him and slowly creeping closer. Another drink and you both go for a kiss, climbing onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. You bring him back to your apartment and lead him to your bedroom, quickly stripping and feeling him trailing kisses down your neck.

All of a sudden though, in the following days you disappeared, and he at first thought you were busy so he left it at that but it quickly changed when he couldn’t find you anywhere. All he could find was a note taped to your door for him and it read that you were eternally sorry for what you were about to do but you didn’t want to burden him.

This shattered already broken trust issues and caused him to go into a year-long depression where he had so many different emotions bothering him it physically pained him. No one could get him out or break him out of it and he hated that a part of him still held out hope for you.

2 or so years later he seemed to have finally been getting over you or at least seemed as though he got over it to others when he was walking along the marketplace only to see a familiar face pass through the crowd. Without hesitation, he slipped into the shadows to see if it was really you and it was!

Part of him was furious that you had the audacity to show up here like nothing had ever happened but the other part was nearly crying out of joy that you were back. Without question, he dropped you through a shadow portal to a more private area and stepped out of the shadows.

You both stared at one another before he started shouting about how you didn’t even explain why you left or bothered to even tell him in person. He laid into you with shout after shout and screaming how much you hurt him with tears pricking his eyes, looking at your face with tears streaming down your face, and waited patiently for a response.

However, a small voice spoke up, and a nearly identical version of him but a toddler pulled on your hand also crying, asking you if you were okay and to not cry with a hand over one set of their six ears. You continued to sob but kneeled down on the concrete to hug your kid barely sputtering out apologies to them about the noise and that you were just sad.

He watched in shock as the dark-furred cub wrapped their tail around your arm and cupped your face, trying to wipe your tears and getting caught in a staring match with him. The kid looked back and forth between their mom and him before standing protectively in front of you and correctly assuming he was the reason you were upset.

After a couple of minutes, he knelt down as well continuing to look at your kid and having trouble figuring out what to say since he was still hurt but also now understanding the situation. You sniffled and wiped the remaining tears from your eyes, staring at the ground beginning to explain that you panicked.

You told him how after a couple of days you took a pregnancy test and it came up positive but you assumed that he didn’t love you back and would be disgusted or hateful if he found out about your baby. Then explain to your kid that he was their father and profusely apologizing and understanding if he never wanted to see you again.

It was like Macaque was looking into a mirror as he saw the child’s six ears flutter and he took down the glamour around his own ears, seeing the cub light up in astonishment and touch their own ears. They slowly walked toward him and tentatively put his hand out, wanting to touch his dad and slowly allowing them to hug him.

All the while you looked on with a bittersweet smile and heard Macaque respond that it would take a long time for him to fully trust you again but he could understand why you what you did. You started crying when you saw him quietly crying too and crumbled as you were allowed to hug him as well.

#lmk x reader #lmk macaque #lmk macaque x reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong #six eared macaque x reader #six eared macaque

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whateverloomis · 10 days ago

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Scream meets X" || Billy Loomis x Stu Macher x GN!AFAB reader 🔪🔞

PART 1

Here's part 4 babiiieees. This is a short one (because of writers block,) but it's nice and angsty. Hope you enjoy! As always, any suggestions or requests my ask box is open <33

Warnings: Character death (2 of them. I'm so sorry,) possessive Billy, reader cries a lot, Tatum has dumb blonde moment (lol,) gore, unedited

As you were approaching the cabin you were staying at, you crashed into someone. They steadied you and when you looked up it was Billy. Randy and Stu were looking for you along with him; "Where the fuck were you?!," Billy screamed and all you could do was hold onto him and cry.

"C'mon," he said and pulled you inside the cabin, walking into your room and closing the door behind him.

"YN, what the fuck was that?!," he questioned and you sobbed.

Billy closed his eyes and sighed, calming himself down just enough to hug you and comfort you.

"She... She said he'll kill me first," you managed to say and Billy pulled back, a confused expression on his face.

"What? Who said that?," he asked while studying your face.

"The old lady."

Billy shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed before looking up at you. He was angry and confused. He needed answers or else he was going to lose every fiber of patience he had left and kill everyone in that goddamn farm house.

"Why would she say that... YN, why the fuck were you in that house?" He asked and you sighed, sitting on the edge of the window afterwards.

"I don't know, Billy I just... It was weird. I was walking around and I just... got curious? And I didn't even think about it before I was inside the house." You explained and Billy kept looking at you silently, waiting for the rest of the story. He wasn't going to say another word until he knew every detail and you knew as much.

"I was looking around and staring at all the photos along the wall. Then I saw a figure in the reflection of one of the glass frames and when I turned around it was her." You continued and Billy stopped you before you could continue; "Did she tell you her name?," he asked. You shook your head no and he signaled you to continue telling him what happened.

"So... She asked me if I wanted lemonade. It was weird, and for some reason I felt oddly welcomed so I followed her into the kitchen and drank th" - "I'm sorry, you drank the lemonade? What if that shit was poisoned or something, YN? What the fuck were you even thinking?!" Billy interrupted and you shrugged. You didn't have any explanations as to why you felt so calm at the moment.

"It wasn't poisoned! Oh my Gosh, listen. Nothing else happened until I was going to walk out of the house and she grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards her forcefully. I don't even know how a woman her age can be that strong! I freaked out and then she told me I was going to be killed first. That's all that happened I swear!" You finished and Billy closed his eyes, sighing.

"Okay, well... From now you're gonna tell me when and where you're going while we're staying here." Billy said seriously and you gasped in disbelief; "What? You don't trust me?!" You were losing your patience.

"It's not that, okay?! I don't want you to get hurt YN, these people are acting really weird and I'm not gonna let anything happen to you!" he said, possessiveness lacing his voice.

You were going to snap at him but the door opening abruptly interrupted you.

Stu barged in breathless with Tatum right behind him.

"Not now Stu!" Billy said and Tatum stepped in; "Hey! Quit arguing over dumb shit! Randy's missing!" she said and you instantly got worried.

"Wasn't he with you guys a few minutes ago?" Billy asked, annoyed.

"Yeah, then we went inside to look for you guys and before we knew it he was gone," Stu explained and you were visibly scared.

"We have to go look for him-" - "You're not going anywhere alone," Billy interrupted and you sighed. "Nobody said I'm going alone, Loomis!" - "Quit it! We'll split up. Me and Stu, you and Billy. Now, let's go before we end up killing each other," Tatum finished the heated conversation and everyone stepped out of the cabin to begin searching for Randy.

•

You searched nearly everywhere and there was no sign of Randy. Everywhere except for the barn.

Being honest, you didn't want to search in the barn. The place where you shot your big scene with Billy. Where you had your moment to shine with only your lover. It would crush you if one of your close friends were killed in that place...

"OH GOD, NO!" you shouted.

Billy ran towards you from the entrance, knife in hand ready to kill whoever crossed his path, except there wasn't anyone threatening, no... There was a dead Randy. A pitch fork right through his skull perfectly aligned with his eyes. His mouth was hanging open, a lingering quiet scream emitting from his limp body.

You were crushed. You didn't want to face the reality of it, but it was right there in front of you. Randy, dead in cold blood.

"Fuck..." Billy whispered and held you with your head against his chest, blocking your sight.

You ran out of the barn as quickly as possible to join Stu outside. Tatum was starting to walk in the woods with a flashlight but got startled at your loud sobbing. She ran over to you quickly and immediately knew what you'd seen.

"He's gone?," Tatum asked and hugged you tightly. Billy pulled Stu aside, just enough to not be heard by you and Tatum, but close enough to keep an eye on the both of you.

"We need to get rid of these fuckers. Run away like we planned and not look back." Billy told Stu, and his friend instantly agreed. He even seemed excited.

Billy and Stu couldn't go much longer without letting that darkness take over them and form a blood bath. This situation was a perfect excuse to do so and they sure as hell weren't going to miss the opportunity.

"Fuck yeah we do! You want me to get the masks?" Stu asked, ready to run back to the cabin but Billy stopped him; "Not yet dipshit, we can't expose ourselves like that." he said while pointing at you and Tatum. Stu opened his mouth forming an O in acknowledgement.

Before they could continue their discussion, Tatum shouted that she was going to continue her original plan of searching at the lake once again. You decided to go with her but before you left Billy grabbed your middle and whispered in your ear; "Stay where I can see you." You nodded in understanding and left with Tatum, flashlights in hand.

Once you were far enough, Billy sent Stu to look for their ghost masks. He kept watch of you as you walked in the woods.

•

You and Tatum walked in the woods far enough to see the lake but you stopped mid way; "Tate... What are we looking for, exactly? We already found Randy." - "Revenge." She said simply.

You were confused at her words. You didn't take Tatum as one to get physical when it came to confrontation, but then again maybe you were wrong.

"Revenge how? You wanna kill these people or something?" - "What?! No! Just give that old hag a piece of my mind! She's crazy! Maybe scare her a little before we call the cops..." She said.

You bit your lip in thought, slowing down as you realized it's not a good idea; "Tatum I don't think- Tate?"

She was gone.

You sighed in disbelief. This is how people get lost and found dead in horror movies.

As you were beginning to call her, you heard a loud gun shot. Crouching down to avoid getting spotted you saw the old couple walking along the pier with your friends dead body. Tears started to stream down your face as you saw them dump her body in the lake.

You were frozen for what seemed like minutes before you started to run back towards the cabin. Suddenly you crashed into someone and started to kick and punch at them before you realized it was Billy.

"Hey hey hey! YN! It's me!" He said, startled.

"They killed Tatum they kill-" - "They killed my Tatum?!" Stu came running from the cabin. You saw him holding something in his hand but couldn't make out what it was until he was right in front of you.

The ghostface masks.

Your eyes widened as you saw it. Billy took one from Stu's hand and placed it on yours. He had the softest most reassuring look you'd ever seen.

"How about we teach them a lesson?" He said, a smile slowly growing on his face.

You were angry, troubled, confused and upset at the loss of your best friends. At the thought of you possibly being next. About Billy and Stu being next. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins and it took over any rational thoughts and efore you knew it, the mask was in your hands.

You agreed.

Agreed to murder not one, but two people.

#billy loomis smut #billy loomis x reader #ghostface smut #ghostface x reader #ghostfacesmut #billy loomis x you #scream (1996)#stu macher smut #stu macher x billy loomis #stu matcher x reader #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher x final girl

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002yb · 24 days ago

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Dickjayroy but it's "nice legs you've got there. I bet they look good open"

(Hi it's me Synnin🫣)

Hey, Synnin'~ 🥰

By no means is it the weirdest situation Dick ever catches Roy in, but it's definitely one of the more jarring if only because Roy is putting hands on his brother.

To say that Dick is ready to throw hands in turn is an understatement. Everyone always wonders where a bat's line is with their no-killing rule—turns out it's here. With one of Dick's best friends flirting with Dick's little wing as Dick watches from the entry of his own damn apartment.

It's been a good run for him. Him being Roy, specifically, because Dick is going to throttle him.

He has no idea why the two of them are here of all places, dressed for a night out and huddled close and intimate. With Jason on the kitchen counter and Roy stood between his legs, hand just above his knee.

The only thing that spares Roy from being put in the ground is the sound of Jason's laughter, loud and breathless.

It tempers Dick in an instant, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips because Jason is caught in a giggle fit. It's uncharacteristic to see him so loose, but also so charming the way Jason tries to hide behind his arm, legs kicking out to drive Roy back—smile sharp and biting, cheeks flushed from how he cackles.

Jason is as intimidating as ever, but also somehow overwhelmingly cute.

'Stop, I can't—' he'd hear Jason snicker, hand smacking down onto the counter. Gasping through his own laughter. Biting it back only for it to sputter out of him again while he shakes his head, 'it's not the same!'

Which would make Roy bark out a laugh of his own, affronted because, 'What do you mean it's not the same!? It's exactly the same!'

'You don't look like—' And it would be then that Jason catches sight of Dick in the entry. And when their gazes catch, Jason's laughter dies on his lips. He looks like a deer in the headlights as he startles and corrects whatever he was about to say. Cheeks flushing from giddy pink to an embarrassed red when he exclaims, too loud, 'Handsome!'

'Hey now,' Roy would complain.

Dick wouldn't be able to help how he laughs under his breath at how offended Roy sounds about Jason's unwitting insult. Dick uses it as an excuse to let himself into this weird situation. Playful when he quips, 'Don't worry Harper, you're plenty handsome to me.'

Which would make Roy laugh, in turn. Because 'Thanks, Grayson. Wish I could say your tastes are better than this guy's, but...'

It's a little on the nose, so of course Jason flusters. Meanwhile Dick is clueless, not realizing that Jason's type is Dick. Dick stays clueless, too. Because although Dick gets an explanation of why Roy and Jason have broken into his apartment and are dressed to go clubbing, they keep some choice details to themselves.

The situation: a botched mission because Jason got distracted by someone picking him up. He got too flustered and missed their actual target, as a result.

The missing detail: the guy that picked Jason up looked vaguely similar to Dick. Who Jason has been crushing on for two lifetimes. (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡

Anyway, from Dick's perspective it's the silliest of mishaps. It's not like Jason at all to fumble a mission so hard, but then again? Dick has never seen Jason get picked up on.

Which leads to their present situation, with Dick trying his hardest not to look too humored or endeared because, 'So was this an exposure therapy thing or...?'

It's a none-too-subtle way to ask if they're dating. They could be! For all Dick loves Roy and trusts him to treat Jason right, Dick still might try to kill him if Roy is in fact sticking it to his little brother, but it's cool. Dick can be supportive.

Fortunately, he doesn't have to be.

Because Roy laughs and Jason looks horrified. 'No!' Jason would stress to him, too quick, too adamant for whatever reason. And Roy would laugh more because he's in the know while Dick is still trying to figure it out.

It comes out that, yes, they were trying for exposure therapy. Because, as Roy stresses, Dick can't imagine how embarrassing it was to watch Jason stutter like he was confronted by a childhood crush. (;

And Dick is so fond because Jason getting flustered over being flirted at is such a normal thing. It highlights how young he still is, what a romantic he is at heart despite the rough and tough persona.

Something something Roy taps Dick in for this weird role-play lesson to help Jason with learning to maintain his composure. Because if Jason can withstand Richie Grayson, there's nothing to worry about.

And it's stupid, but Roy's always been good about encouraging Dick to let loose and do silly shit, so Dick plays along. Cringing at the lines Roy feeds him, but laughing under his breath because fine, he'll make it work. Ready, little wing?

Jason looking very not ready. He's got a weak poker face. He's already blushing, eyes wide and flustered. A panicked look to Roy, only for Dick to steal his attention with a wicked smile and a challenge that steels Jason's resolve and settles his nerves.

Then something something Dick standing between Jason's legs and biting back a smile over how (,,>﹏<,,) Jason gets.

And Dick goes to open his mouth, but Jason raises his arms and makes an X because time out, time out! He can't breathe.

Dick waiting while Roy torments like the good friend he is. About Jason needing to take advantage of this rare opportunity. About Dick being too devilishly handsome—give little Jaybird a chance, damn.

Dick standing back with his hands raised, marveling at how Jason hides behind his. Considering how it is that Dick gets such a grand reaction compared to Roy. He's well aware he's missing something; an inside joke he's not privy to.

Before Dick can figure it out, Jason resolves himself and tells Dick to go again. Jason is ready this time. Go, damn it. >/////<

Something something with Dick reciting the same line, but dressed up. A hand smoothing over Jason's thigh and marveling the jump of muscles beneath his touch. A line about how Jason's legs look nice—how they'd look better spread open. And Dick might nudge Jason's legs a bit wider. Then add how Jason's legs would look even better wrapped around him. And he'd pull Jason's leg a bit but it'd be Jason who pulls Dick in closer, leg hooked around him and he'd look so shy, but determined.

Dick patting Jason's leg and reminding him that he's supposed to be telling Dick to fuck off, not encouraging Dick to fuck him.

But Jason fumbles hard because: 'Fuck me.'

Cue wide eyed Dick and jaw dropped Roy and horrified Jason because omg. 😳😳😳

And oh, yep. Dick can see how the mission went awry if Jason's reaction is any indication. The poor guy looks fucked in a very captivating way. All wide eyes and rosy, freckled cheeks. It's cute.

No one knows how to move this interaction forward. So for a long time it's dickjay staring at each other in panic because the offer is out there and Dick's restraint is a foregone thing. He's so ready to say 'okay.' He forgets what he was doing that lead up to this. But yeah, lean back on this counter. Bend over it. Dick can give Jason something to actually fluster about.

Somehow, Roy manages to deescalate the situation because he knows his bestie isn't ready to jump into a casual hook up (Jason or Dick). The tension is there going forward though, lol.

Also, something something Dick going on the next mission. So that Dick can run interference for any unwanted flirts. Only Jason bristles and gets so prickly when Dick gets flirted at. Which makes him miss the target again.

This reply is pure silliness and no coherent plot ahhhhh, sorry Synnin'!! To make you wait so long and then probably give you brain hurt hahaha. The heavy-handed flirts with dickjay(+roy, whoops lol) is so funny. 🤭

But yes, thank you~ hope you're doing well!!

( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)♡

#dickjay #jaydick #dorks in love #jason's first love is dick grayson

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appleblueberry-pie · 10 months ago

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yandere miles 42 when a guys asks you out to prom yk like where they make a whole scene a cardboard box cut into a square and it has will you go out to prom with me 😭😭 and says the most cheasy thing making you cringe and a large group of ppl are surrounding you two but we reject them and they get mad and you tell miles all abt it ^^ i love your posts btw🙏🏽

[Come back home to me.]

You knew something funny was gonna happen when people were smiling your way, giggling and whispering about you. And the further you trekked down the hallway, the more crowded it was. You tried to keep your eyes to yourself as you slithered through the crowd. Clutching your backpack straps harder. Phones were out and on you, you felt a little nervous. This day has been hard enough for you. Long, grueling hours in class, people chatting up a storm in your ears, a mind-blowing headache that you've had all damn day that you could only take medication for just 30 minutes ago. You were tired.

"Hey, Y/n!" You tense up before sighing, shoulders dropping. How much happier would you be if you just ignored the call of your name and dealt with the backlash tomorrow, instead? You recognized the voice, and knew that if you ignored him...you'd be dealing with the consequences forever. You decided to turn around.

There goes Travis. His dark brown complexion and well-maintained dreads make him stand out. They were pulled back into a low pony, probably because he knew these videos would be the talk of the school for a while. He always loved the spotlight. A junior, like you, giving you that smile that all of the girls bothered him to give to them. It's directed right at you while he holds a beautifully made sign. It's humongous. And pink. And purple. Colors that you don't remember telling him were your favorite. Your head begins to hurt again when you notice your name drawn in amazing detail and care, followed by something among the lines of "prom" and "love of my life."

Somehow in the time span that you scanned your eyes over the sign that determined your possibly inevitable doom, a perfect circle was formed by the students who stood and watched you two like hawks. The flash on phones made you calculate that these videos wouldn't leave the internet for at least a month. Great. A month of reminders. A month of prodding and picking at your sanity from a place you have to go to damn near every day for an education. And a month of replays of a rejection.

You're not telling him yes.

Travis's homeboys hoot and holler to encourage him. "Y/n..." He starts, taking a step closer to you. A fake smile wobbles onto your lips and you stare up at him. "......yes...?" Everyone suddenly goes silent as you two begin to converse.

The way he stares at you makes you feel like....what he's looking for in you isn't something you'd give up for any high school boy anytime. Because what he wants, you know it isn't genuine love. So it makes you nervous the way he seems to tower over you during his, so called, "profession of love".

"Your beauty and smarts is something I've always wanted in a girl." His voice is loud and clear. It echoes throughout the hallway, like he wants everyone to hear. You don't think the halls have ever been so quiet. "Everyday, I'd pass you in the hallways while you carry your textbooks and wonder what it'd be like talking to you every morning before class. What it would be like to love you the way you deserve to be loved." His vague explanation of his love towards you had you wondering if anyone else also realized how fake this whole thing was.

His dark brown eyes never leave your face and he's right in front of you now. "So, I made this sign...to show you how much I love you. And how much I want to be with you. So, if it isn't so much to ask," Travis slowly puts the sign aside and drops to one knee, taking one of your hands into his, holding it carefully. "would you please go to prom with me? And let me be your man?"

The longer he watched the live feed, the harder it was to not burn his work space to the ground. The longer he listened, the harder he tweaked his claw he was attempting to fix. He was trying. He was trying so hard to stay calm. Because it's not like you'd say yes. But at the same time, no matter how often he kills or beats niggas up, "They just keep fucking touching you, puto cabrón!" He swipes the table, his tools and broken claw flying to the ground. Miles takes deep breaths, holding his head in his hands.

He stands up, turning off his phone and begins pacing. He didn't wanna see the rest of that. Why does he have to keep doing this? Don't they understand your his? Just his??? Yes, you're the shining light that keeps Brooklyn alive, yes, yes, this isn't news. But he's always with you. So why do they keep bothering you?

It doesn't matter because he's gonna keep killing them until they get the message. The more roaches he brings into the light, the better. He suddenly rushes to his phone and quickly dials your number, chest heaving as he tries to calm himself.

Your phone silently vibrates in your back pocket and your heart drops. It had to be Miles. Because he wasn't at school today and this definitely wouldn't have happened if he was here. You're so fucked, you think to yourself as everyone cheers at Travis's speech. And it goes silent again as they wait for your answer.

Suddenly, Travis is so hard to look at. You didn't want to be stared at like that when he's gonna die in the next few hours. Miles was gonna get him and it'd be your fault. He always said it wasn't and would caress your face as reassurance, but there's no excuse when he only kills these guys at school because they talk to you. And not for any other reason. You always have to be where the line is drawn.

"No, I can't go to prom with you." You say, chest lifting of the thousand pound weight that held it down. Travis didn't even look sad, he still had that adoring look in his eyes. And you then knew that he was faking all of this. "Why not? Is it because of Miles?" He stands, still holding your hand and shakes his head. "If he's bothering you, I could....get rid of him if you want. Cause that nigga, he a fucking weirdo. And he clearly, like, has you hostage or something, cause he ain't nothing special. Any one of us is better than him." He scoffs at the mention of him and his friends laugh with him.

You shake your head and take your hand away. "No, sorry, Travis. I just....don't wanna go." He rolls his eyes and smiles at you, picking up his sign. "Whatever. That's aight." He tosses it in the nearest trash can. You wonder if he even made that himself with the way he tossed it with zero regards. He turns back to you one last time and nods. "I'll holler. Let me know when you get rid of yo little guard dog. He be stinking the halls anyway."

And everyone dispersed.

You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. You think this city is going to be the death of you with how many times you've gotten unwanted attention based on your looks. You tense up once more when you remember that Miles was calling you. The sudden silence after multiple calls was never a good thing. You yanked your phone out of your pocket and saw the 20-something missed calls and whispered to yourself in fear.

Immediately, you began your journey to his place.

His room was dark and cold. Only the light from outside his window illuminated it. You softly dropped your backpack into the usual corner and backed up to sit on his bed, but your back softly collided with a warm wall that also wrapped it's arms around your torso. You flinched as Miles exhaled in your ear, his head resting on your shoulder. "Miles, what the hell...."

He squeezes you a little and backs you both up, until he brings you to sit on his lap on his bed. He shifts you, so that you're facing him, his hand caressing your face and rubbing your back. "Hermosa como siempre, mami. How was your day?"(Beautiful as always, mami.) He whispers it to you, to calm you down. You're visibly nervous at his actions, expecting him to explode any minute.

"Um...it was alright. I did my project in 3rd period and got a coffee drink with my lunch. And..... I got asked to prom." You stare down at him, watching him scan you up and down, and let him 'check' your pockets before resting his hands on your waist. "Yeah? Who asked?" He already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from you.

You severely struggled to tell him it was Travis. You were tired of him killing people. You were tired of the apologies from men who were beaten half to death because of you. You scrunched your eyebrows as your throat began to close.

"Hm?" He asked. You hated how calm he was about this. How he held you so dearly as you fidgeted with your uniform skirt. Tears built up in your eyes and you shook your head. Miles pulled you closer, immediately wiping your eyes. "No, no, por favor no llores, nena. No estés triste. I just want you to tell me who did it, that's all."(No, no, please don't cry, baby. Don't be sad.) You break into full out sobbing and wipe at your eyes.

"I don't- don't want to because you're gonna kill him!" You stutter and manage to spit out your words, voice wobbly. Miles shushes you and rocks you back and forth, resting your head on his chest. His voice rumbles in your ears when he speaks. "You don't have to worry about a thing when I'm here with you, N/n. All I want is for you to drop his name, and everything else doesn't matter."

He kisses your forehead sweetly, letting his lips linger for a few seconds. "Okay?" You nod and try to take deep breaths. You couldn't win against him. He probably already knew who proposed to you, and Travis's fate still wouldn't be unavoidable. "Travis." You felt immense guilt and despair the moment you dropped his name.

"Travis...." Miles repeats. Just putting his name in the air made him pissed all over again. He stays silent for a few seconds before tilting his head to the side. "I just realized why that name is so familiar," He starts. "That's that nigga who robbed and threatened you last year, ain't it?" Miles scoffs and turns to look at you. "Is that why you didn't leave when he brought up that sign? Cause of what he did to you?"

You scrunch your eyebrows at his words and sit up. "How do you know about that?" You didn't meet Miles until a month after you were robbed by Travis in your sophomore year. So, him knowing about that was weird, especially since you never brought it up to him before. Miles ignores your question and continues. "I should've known some shit was off." Miles places you on the bed and gets up, grabbing some clothes to change into.

You rush to stand in front of him to stop him. "Miles, wait! Please- please don't do this. He didn't even do anything to me. All he did is ask me out. I said no. What's wrong with that??"

"What's wrong with that is that nigga is gonna keep fucking getting at you until he can get into your pants, baby. I'm not stupid. These niggas know what they doin' riling you up and sending you back home to me crying and shit. Ain't you tired??" Miles begins to size you up, backing you towards his bedroom door, clothes clutched in his hand as he stares down at you.

"I am fucking tired. And I'm also tired of you ruining my life by making more rumors for niggas to spread about me. Nobody wants to be near me because of you, Miles!" You jab your finger into his chest and he grabs your hand. "You don't need nobody else." You hear his breathing speed up and realized you should've kept your mouth shut.

It's too damn silent for your liking. All you can hear is him and your heartbeat in your ears. "When the fuck have you ever needed anyone else besides me?.....I take care of you. I feed you, I do your fucking hair every morning, I walk you to and from school, I protect you. Es que no es suficiente?(Is that not enough?)" You don't respond and stare up into brown eyes that glare down at you. "How 'bout I show you how good you got it?" You try to pull your hand back, but his iron grip isn't letting up. "What.....? Miles, let me go."

"What's wrong, mi corazón? Don't wanna see?" Miles almost jokingly asks about your sudden concern. He steps into your space once more and firmly grabs your face. "Look at me when I tell you this,"

He shakes his head. "You don't know how to protect yourself. I'm the only one who knows how to keep you safe in these fucked up streets. When was the last time you felt protected before you met me? Huh? Cause I know you haven't. I'm meant to be here with you! I'm protecting you from the horrible fucking things that are happening out there that could've been happening to you, baby. You heard?"

You struggle to remove his hands from your face and he makes no move to stop the distress he's putting you in. "Okay, okay, Miles. Just...please stop."

Miles places a kiss onto your forehead before holding you in his arms. You sigh relief at the release of pressure and let him hold you. "Volveré pronto, okay? And then we can do whatever you want."(I'll be back soon) You allow yourself to relax and your eyes flutter shut. Sometimes you wonder how much it'll take for him to stop taking his obsession out on Brooklyn.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere character #reader #across the spiderverse #itsv #atsv #yandere atsv #yandere atsv x reader #yandere 42 miles x reader #yandere 42 miles #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #yandere miles x reader #yandere miles morales x reader #yandere miles morales #miles morales imagine

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sundrop-writes · 11 months ago

Text

Better Than Sleeping

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary:

You and Jason are friends with benefits. Though you have come to realize that the relationship doesn’t always ‘benefit’ you when he ends up annoying you after a long, tiring day of training.

(He quickly makes you come to see that his annoying persistence can benefit you, even if you would never admit it aloud.)

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during Season 2.

Word Count: 5,300

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Warning: This fic contains Dubious Consent. One character ‘wears down’ the other and ‘convinces them’ to have sex, and both of them display verbal consent that goes against their true actions and desires (they say no to having sex when they do truly want to) and they think of convincing the other person to agree as a kind of ‘game’. It is a relationship that is playful in nature, and this consent is based on bodily queues, facial expressions, and knowing a person’s safety and comfort based on being in a relationship with them for a period of time. If this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read the fic.

List of detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: friends with benefits, this is primarily a smut fic, the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive (once the sex begins), the reader could be considered a brat, Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (it is a canon event), Jason calls the reader ‘baby’, Jason calls the reader ‘good girl’, dubious consent - coercion (please see the above for an explanation about this), mentions of masturbation (watching someone masturbate), mentions of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep, mentions of free use kink, mentions of cumming inside someone/unprotected sex, marking/biting, groping/touching through underwear (reader receiving), orgasm denial (toward the reader), ‘just the tip’,teasing, there is a point where Jason’s dick is inside her without a condom but he doesn’t cum, and he puts on a condom before fully penetrating (what would you call that?), begging, slight mentions of subspace (but it’s more so described as a lustful drunkness), there is implications toward the end of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep with their permission. I believe that is everything.

A/N: This is definitely one of my favourite things I have written. I thought maybe I was going to edit it some before re-posting it, but I was rereading it the other day and I actually realized that it's really good the way it is, so here you go - some random cocky Jason smut, inspired by the 'just the tip' trope. I hope you enjoy!

...

You knew that becoming a Titan was never going to be easy.

But fuck, this was a lot harder than you imagined it would be. Dick Grayson was quickly becoming your least favorite person. Between the 5am wake up calls and the endless workout routines, paired with the bland ‘nutrient filled’ meal plans he had everyone on to ‘fuel your bodies’ for training - he was becoming a menial drill sergeant that you couldn’t get away from. One of the only things that made it better was the fact that you had friends around - the ability to joke about him with Rachel, Gar, and Jason behind his back. Was it a bit mean-spirited? Yes. Did you feel less guilty about it whenever he added more onto the training routine? Also yes.

You had no clue when these skills you were working so hard on were ever going to come into play. Every single night, Dick retired himself into the comms room full of computers to ‘monitor the city for threats’ - but he seemingly never found anything worthy of the team’s attention. At least not yet. So you went about the routine of training hard, becoming exhausted, falling into bed to sleep and then doing it all over again.

Oh - and there was the other thing. The not so occasional part of your routine where Jason fucked your brains out. The fact that the two of you had developed a mutually beneficial relationship to help ‘relieve’ each other when you were horny, a quintessential friends with benefits situation. But with your muscles sore from training and your entire body so exhausted, that was the farthest thing from your mind on this night.

After a long, hard day of training, the last thing you wanted to hear was a knock on your bedroom door. You hoped that it was simply Gar asking to borrow some of your body wash again (because he liked the smell), or Rachel asking you to kill a spider in her room, and not Dick alerting you to some surprise training drill that he had suddenly thought up.

You shoved your pajama top over your head, finishing getting changed for the night, and rushed across the room to the door. When you opened it, you barely had time to gauge if you were pleased or displeased at seeing Jason before he spoke.

“I’m horny.” He announced abruptly, being very abrupt about delivering his feelings.

But it was in character for him, and didn’t surprise you in the least.

You hated that your stomach jolted at his words, even if just out of Pavlovian habit. It had been only two days since the last time he had fucked you. He had caught you in the shower in the morning, snuck into the bathroom with a condom between his teeth and opened the shower door to join you while you were distracted meditatively washing your hair. It had been steamy, soapy, slippery, and goddamn wonderful.

But it had left you sore and stiff before training, and you were wondering how much give and take there was - if you truly needed his cock.

“Hello to you too.” You said, your tone just as dead tired as you felt.

You wouldn’t admit that you were a bit horny too. You were tired, and you wanted to go to sleep. So that made you annoyed with his presence. (It should have made you more annoyed than you were.)

Jason bit his lip, raking his eyes up and down your body with an intense heat lurking there. You glared back at him.

Jason was intensely attractive. He was a good looking guy, that was just a fact. And while you did enjoy the way he was looking at you, staring you down like you were a porn star when you were slumped with exhaustion, wearing baggy old pjs with mascara smeared on your face with sweat, your hair a mess from the day - there was barely a spark stirred in your stomach at the idea of fucking him right now. You were just too damn tired. Dick had been running you all into the ground, instituting the same training that Batman had given him, and it was fucking exhausting.

“So - can I come in?” Jason asked.

He gave you a very expectant curl of his lips and tilted his head toward you when you didn’t say anything for a few seconds. You just stood there and stared at him bitterly.

You sighed hard through your nose, not wanting to answer the question.

Fucking him might be nice. A good orgasm before bed. But you needed to put what little energy you had left into your nightly routine and then get a good, long sleep before Dick woke everyone up at ass o’clock again.

“No.” You finally told him. “I’m going to bed.”

You turned and walked back into your room, but left the door open. You hoped that he would get the hint to leave on his own. You grabbed your bottle of makeup remover and a cotton pad and began taking off your makeup.

You weren’t so lucky.

“I’ll go to bed with you, babe.” He announced proudly. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

He then came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You felt the half hardness of his cock pressing into your ass as you wiped away your makeup with stern hands. You tried your hardest not to let him wear you down, even as you felt a tingle between your thighs. He was used to training this hard, so it wasn’t as exhausting for him. Clearly, he didn’t understand how tired you were - how badly you needed the rest.

“Go get in your own bed.” You barked, your tone becoming more strained.

As you leaned closer to the mirror to inspect your face, to make sure that you had gotten all the tiny specs of makeup off, you unintentionally arched your back, pushing your ass much closer to his crotch. Jason let out a quiet moan and you caught him smirking at you in the reflection of the mirror.

He leaned in close, draping his warm body entirely over your back, trapping you there as he put one hand on the dresser and the other on the wall and leaned his body weight on you. You could have shoved him off you if you wanted to - but as you felt a tingling heat creeping up your back, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to.

“Come on, babe.” He sighed into your neck.

His hot breath on such a sensitive place caused a shiver through you that you would deny.

“Why are you being like this? You know if you want a good sleep, getting fucked nice and hard is the best way to get it.” He told you, so entirely cocky. “My cock will put you right to bed, baby.”

The words sent a hard jolt of electricity through you, settling a hard heat through you from your gut all the way to your face, burning uncomfortably through your skin. Combined with the way he ground his increasing hardness against your ass, you were forced to suppress a whimper.

It made you even more annoyed with him - the fact he could play your body like an instrument he had finely tuned. And you reacted with that intense annoyance.

“Why can’t you just masturbate like a normal person?” You scoffed at him, entirely firm, not giving away an ounce of weakness in your voice.

“As if.” He held intense disgust in his voice at the very idea.

He gave another firm dig of his hips, causing you to be pressed into the sharp edge of the dresser - a small twinge of pain that only added to the heat growing in your stomach.

“Why the fuck would I resort to touching myself when I have the sweetest pussy ever to fuck right down the hall?” Jason explained. “But ya know, if you want to watch me jack off, that can be arranged.”

Instead of responding to that, you just rolled your eyes. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice that subtle shift of lust in your features that said this was definitely a new fantasy of yours because he had brought it up.

“You can’t deny that you need it too.” Jason whispered into your ear.

“I need sleep.” You grunted in return.

You then shucked out of his hold, using one of the evasive maneuvers that Dick had taught you in training, ducking under Jason’s arm when he wasn’t expecting it. Before he could blink, you were across the hall and in the bathroom. It was mostly because you knew that if you stood there any longer with his warm body pressed against your back, you would have given in far too easily.

Naturally, Jason followed you.

He stuck by your side through your entire night time routine, trying to wear you down. You weighed the pros and cons in your head without truly listening to him as the exhaustion seeped into your bones and battled with the lust growing inside of you.

Jason brushed his teeth standing next to you in front of the sink while you brushed yours, all the while mumbling excuses through his toothpaste about how the sex would be good aerobic exercise to help with your training. By the time you got to doing your skincare, you ended up putting a face wash and moisturizer on him just to mentally drown out whatever he was saying - something about orgasms and endorphins and how it helps mental health.

As you pulled back the covers to finally settle in, he snuck his way into your bed under the guise of ‘just cuddling’. Though you weren’t anywhere near convinced of that sentiment, you didn’t kick him out of the room or protect. You were surprised, but grateful when he took off his shirt, laid down, and seemed to finally shut up. You weren’t sure which you were more grateful for - the quiet or the stunning eye candy of his tight body on full display. But you didn’t question the fact that he had finally stopped nagging you.

You crawled into bed beside him and settled into his arms. You gave him a kiss on the cheek as a goodnight (knowing that if you kissed him on the mouth, it would turn into something more heated). It was only about two minutes after you shut off your bedside lamp, shrouding the room in darkness, that the talking began again.

“You could sleep through it.” He noted quietly.

You sighed with deep annoyance.

“If you want to. I could be gentle about it.”

His voice continued on from behind you as he spooned you, one arm under your head underneath the pillow and the other laid almost possessively around your waist.

Of course, he didn’t even have to be too descriptive for you to know what ‘it’ was.

The idea of him gently fucking you while you fell into a lazy sleep was entirely too appealing. But he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to win. Especially not after you had put so much of your very little remaining energy into deterring him all night.

“Go to sleep.” You told him with a huff, shoving your head further into the pillow.

He simply chuckled.

You hoped that if you just ignored him, he would shut up and go to sleep.

You would never admit to him that heat bloomed in your stomach at the idea of Jason crawling into your bed when you were already in a deep sleep, using you for his own selfish pleasure and leaving you sore and full of cum to wake up to in the morning.

“Hmm… no.” He replied, as easily as a petulant child, his breath fanning out over your neck once again.

Your heated thoughts easily blossomed into a moan from your lips when he latched onto your neck without warning. He picked a particularly tender spot, sucking hard with teeth and the fullness of his lips, easily knocking the wind out of you. You shoved your heated face tightly into your pillow, praying that he wouldn’t notice your reaction. That he wouldn’t realize he so blatantly had you like putty in his hands. If he knew that, he would know that he could just take whatever he wanted and you wouldn’t protest. Not in the slightest.

Jason already knew that. But he wasn’t just going to pull down your shorts and slam his cock into you. As much fun as that would be - he wasn’t barbaric. Plus - now that he had one of your sweet little sounds in his ears, he wanted more. He wanted to hear you beg for it after denying him for so long.

He moved his arm from being so tightly around your waist, and pushed your shirt up. You tried your best to put up a wall of indifference toward this. He began skimming his touch oh so lightly along the roundness of your stomach, right above the band of your shorts. You knew he felt the shiver that ran through you, but you refused to say anything. You weren’t pretending to be asleep at this point, but it was a game to the two of you. You still refused to give in.

But he was playing to win.

He shoved his hand into the waistband of your shorts, touching you outside the fabric of your underwear. His skin felt like he could have burned you, even through the fabric. You had to make a conscious effort not to buck forward into the touch. When his fingers skimmed across your hotly beating clit (when had you gotten so turned on?) you swallowed another whimper and steadied your voice.

“Jason.” You said his name firmly, like a warning bell. “If you don’t behave yourself, I’m gonna kick you out.”

“I don’t think you will.” He whispered into your neck, defiantly cocky once again.

He sucked another hard, hot mark onto your skin as he cupped your pussy whole in his palm and began grinding the heel of his hand against your clit.

You let out a wobbling moan and your body thrashed, your energy so depleted that you could no longer hold back your body’s natural reactions to him. You were met with the hard wall of his body behind you, so firm and perfectly hot as he pressed himself tighter into you.

He gave a satisfied grin into your skin and only doubled down, putting more pressure on your throbbing clit and causing hot waves from that point, adding to the rolling boil that raged under your skin.

With the beautifully firm pressure and Jason’s talent, the way he knew your body so well, you could have come from this alone. Especially as the pleasure throbbed through your core, your underwear became more soaked through and it was all so beautifully smooth and wet.

Jason began grinding his cock - still trapped inside a pair of sweats - against the back of your thigh. He groaned into your neck when he felt a pleasurable tingling of his own spreading through his gut, though he craved to be inside of you. As much as he was enjoying this - the sweet, needy sounds falling from your lips, the way your thighs clamped around his wrist, as though desperately trying to keep him in place while your hips humped against his hand like a bitch in heat - he knew that he needed more.

And he was going to make you beg for it.

When he felt the signature twitch of your legs that said you were about to cum, he stopped. He held his hand completely still, his strong arm easily pinning your hips down to the bed to prevent you from humping against him and simply taking what you needed. In that moment, he even curled two of his fingers up to shove the fabric of your underwear inside of you slightly, creating a sharp sting that reminded you just how empty you were feeling.

“Jay-!” You let out his name in a petulant whine, about to scold him for the ruined orgasm, but he cut you off.

“You gonna ask me nicely now?” He rumbled into your ear. “Admit you were wrong?”

You wanted to bark out ‘either make me cum, or go to your own damn bed’ - but you knew that Jason was just as petty as you were. At that point, he would have gotten up and left for his own bed just to prove a point.

“You’re keeping me awake right now.” You huffed out, trying your best to sound annoyed. (Which wasn’t too difficult, considering how badly the ruined orgasm had frustrated you.) “My point still stands.”

Of course, sleeping was the farthest thing from your mind now. The sexual frustration had injected a new wave of energy through you, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to rest until you were truly satisfied.

Unfortunately, Jason knew that too.

“Okay.” Jason sighed quietly, giving a click of his tongue.

He then completely pulled his hand out of your shorts and pulled away from your body. It seemed like he was moving to get out of the bed - you worried you had accidentally triggered that signature pettiness in him.

But as usual, Jason Todd surprised you.

You bit your lip to hold back a cheer when he reached for the waistband of your shorts and underwear pulled them down all at once, exposing your hot, soaked cunt to the cool air of the room. (At some point, the blanket had been accidentally shoved off you.) You took a glance over your shoulder and of course, he was shoving his pants down to his knees. You caught a glimpse of his long, thick, hard cock bobbing out of the fabric in the darkness. But you didn’t dare to spend too much time admiring it, for fear of making him too cocky.

You relaxed against your pillow in satisfaction, waiting for Jason to grab a condom out of the bedside table’s drawer so that he could literally fuck you to sleep.

You were surprised when he scooted back toward you, pressing himself right up against your back once more. He proceeded to simply press his hips against yours - his cock laid flat against the bare folds of your leaking pussy, immediately becoming slick with your wetness. But be made no moves to grab a condom or even tease you by pushing inside of you raw.

(Which - yes, the two of you had agreed to always use condoms, but it was secretly a fantasy of yours that he would go against the rule because of his overbearing need to feel you raw - or even the need to cum inside of you).

But instead of doing any of that, Jason seemed to be settling in to relax.

Jason draped himself across your back, wrapped his arm around your waist again, and gently laid his head on your shoulder. But he made no effort to move, or fuck you. Your pussy throbbed with need, feeling the hot, hard length pressed against you, entirely unmoving. When you clenched around nothing, you let out a wave of slick that you knew he could feel right on his cock. You felt a groan catch inside his chest, but still, he didn’t move.

“Jason.” You breathed out, having to question him after a few more moments of silence and stillness. “What are you doing?”

“Going to sleep.” He answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought you wanted me to just shut up and leave you alone so that you could get some rest?”

That. Little. Shit.

You resisted the urge to elbow him in the face.

Obviously, being so close to you, he felt your entire body tense up with anger and annoyance. He was only able to partially hold back his satisfactory laughter. When the quiet snickers met your ears, you became even more annoyed.

“Jason.” You scolded him gruffly.

“Oh? I’m sorry,” He said, entirely sarcastic. “Did you want something?”

“Did you want something?” You parroted back, mocking his words in a childish voice.

Essentially, you had no more clever comebacks left. He had won.

“I guess I can give you something for your troubles, babe.” Jason sighed, as though it were a grand inconvenience to him. “Maybe just the tip, though.”

“Just the tip.” You sighed, finding yourself repeating his words once again. Though this time your voice was dead and sarcastic rather than mocking - mostly because you didn’t believe him.

You knew that in Jason land, ‘just the tip’ meant slamming his entire cock into you after the tip lingered in your entrance for a moment. You clenched down on nothing again at the thought.

Once again, you were expecting him to grab a condom so he could fuck you freely without worry. You were surprised when he peeled his body away from you slightly and reached down to grab his cock. After a moment of rubbing the fat cockhead along your folds to get it nice and wet, he did as promised and pushed the tip inside.

It was the first time he had ever been inside of you without the barrier of a condom, and feeling his hot, raw skin touching yours - even just a little bit, made you gasp.

“Jason!”

Your voice was whiny even to your own ears, so needy for him after so much teasing. Upon instinct, feeling that painfully empty ache coming from deep inside you, you arched your back and attempted to shove your hips toward him - attempted to pull more of his thickness inside of you. But Jason was quicker, and he had his hands on both your hips, shoving you down onto the bed so hard and fast that the tip of his cock fell out of you with a wet pop.

It was a sound that made heat beat through your cheeks, and the feeling of his wet cockhead brushing against the backs of your thighs took your breath away.

“Oops.” He chuckled, and moved to slot himself back into position.

You had no clue why it was so dizzyingly hot.

But this time he held you down firmly so you couldn’t simply fuck yourself back onto his cock. You moaned as the thickness of the cockhead popped back inside of you - you yearned for more, but he stayed still.

After a moment, he began to move his hips so slightly, feeding no more than an inch of his cock into your throbbing cunt before pulling it back out. It was an entirely careful movement on his part where he fed you the first inch, and didn’t let the tip pop out again, in pathetically shallow thrusts that could barely be called sex. Your pussy ached, tingled, yearned for more.

You mentally cursed Batman for teaching him such good self discipline and him using it for this.

“Jason.” You whined, trying fruitlessly to fight against the firm grip he had on your hips in order to fuck yourself on his cock.

“What, babe?” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss a line across your shoulder.

“You know what.” You replied, your tone even more frustrated and whiny.

You wiggled your hips desperately, trying to get more of him inside of you. You yearned to feel the perfect ache of his thick cock splitting you open, hitting all of those perfect spots so deep inside of you.

“No, I don’t.” He told you, his voice somehow steady and confident. “You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.”

You couldn’t see it or feel it, but his hips were trembling and his abs were tight with the pure resistance of his self control. All of the energy he was using not to slam his cock into the tight, warm velvet of your cunt, especially as he felt it leak so freely around the tip of his cock, knowing how badly you needed him. He wanted nothing more than to watch you whine and babble and fall apart on his cock - but he wanted to win just a little bit more.

There was a distinct pause. The last shreds of your own stubbornness hanging in the air, even as your cunt throbbed with need.

Even if Jason couldn’t see your face from this angle, he could feel the warring in your body. He knew you too well. And he knew how to break you down so perfectly.

“If you want anything more than this,” He told you, emphasizing the point with another pathetically shallow thrust. “If you want anything more than just the tip of my cock,” His voice was low and silken and creating even more heat that almost drowned you. “Then you’re gonna have to beg for it.”

“Fuck you, Jay.” You whined out in protest, once again trying to fight his grip on your hips to fuck yourself against him.

He viciously dug his fingers into the fat of your hips, causing a sharp sound from your throat at the beautiful pain.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, and growled out his next words in a low tone that dragged through your insides in the exact spot where his cock should have been.

“Come on.” He urged you on. “Fucking. Beg.”

That was when you broke.

At least you hadn’t given in too easily.

“Please,” You whined out breathlessly. “Please, fuck me! Fuck me, Jason! I need it.”

“What else?” Jason asked expectantly.

You could have killed him. But when your desperate cunt unconsciously clenched down on the fat head of his cock and you felt yourself growing only more hot and needy, you knew that there was only one thing to do.

“I’m sorry, Jay, I should have - I should have just asked nicely in the first place. I do need it. I need your big cock inside of me so badly.” You poured it on thick, emphasizing the last words in the most pornographic voice you could muster, hoping that he was running low on self control as well.

And he was. So he was very satisfied with this. He grinned into your skin, leaving a surprisingly tender kiss on the back of your neck before he mumbled out ‘good girl’ - something that made you moan out sharply.

You let out a sharp noise of disappointment when his cock popped out of you again.

“I need a condom.” He told you, giving you a reassuring pat on the ass. “As much as I’d love to cum inside you, we do have an agreement.”

You weren’t sure which was hotter - his sex-thick voice admitting that he shared one of your deepest fantasies, or the fact that he was caring so deeply for you, making sure that he protected you with a condom even when you were in that floating headspace and willing to let him do just about anything do your body.

Your mind was swimming contemplating it, and next thing you knew it, he had the condom on successfully. He then slammed his cock inside of you in one firm, smooth movement. Any thoughts were easily pounded out of your head by the practiced movement of his hips.

“Better now?” Jason grunted into your ear.

You could practically feel his smugness radiating through his cock, spearing into you.

But you were now alight with intense pleasure, warm satisfaction rolling through you - so you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care about how smug he was. Every bit of cockiness he had, he did back it up with a pretty big dick that he knew how to use well. Not that you would ever say those words aloud to him. Not even on your deathbed.

“Just shut up and fuck me.” You ordered, though it was breathless and had no bite.

“As you wish, babe.” He replied, and then doubled down - his hips fucking into you with an intense fury.

You moaned like a whore at this, finally feeling that dizzying fullness that you had been craving since he had snuck his touch into your shorts. Jason drank up your sounds and easily wanted more - more of your perfect pussy squeezing around his cock, more of that wetness coating his inner thighs, more of that filthy wet smacking as he fucked into you.

He leaned down, draping his body fully over yours once again, creating a pleasantly smothering weight on top of you as you laid on your stomach on the bed with your face nearly drowned in the pillow. He slowed the pace of his hips to a dangerous torture of a grind, fucking you so deeply now that you were sure you could feel him coming up inside of your throat. You let out a wounded noise, and he hushed you gently.

“Shh, babe, I’ve got you.” He whispered into your ear. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

He moved one of his hands from your hip and shoved it between your body and the bed, and once again he was cupping your mound fully in his hand - but this time there was no fabric barrier, and he was settled deep inside of you. It was filling your whole body with lava, turning every place he touched you to boiling ash. You were sure that you would have dissolved into nothingness if not for the anchor of your cunt hanging onto his cock, keeping you grounded in reality with that slight nip of pain as your muscles clenched onto him.

“Now say thank you.” He told you, his voice so gruff in your ear, so thick with desire that it made you dizzy. “Thank me for giving you my cock.”

He used two precise fingers to rub circles on your neglected clit, immediately sending shockwaves through your body that made your muscles jump and jolt.

You gulped for air and struggled to move your face out of the fabric of the pillow, and Jason saw this. He moved his other hand and slid it under your cheek, gripping under your jaw to fully lift you up.

He stilled his hips completely once again, causing a pained sound to emanate from your lungs as you clamped down on his cock deep inside of you while he continued to relentlessly work over your tender clit. He gave you a couple of seconds to catch your breath. But you were so cock dumb that you had to be reminded of the goal.

“Come on, baby.” He encouraged you, pressing his lips to your cheek that he wasn’t holding onto. “Say ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you.” You easily repeated back, now completely pliant to his desires. “Thank you for-for your cock.”

“Good girl.” Jason praised you once again.

Then he began fucking into you once more - it only took a few careful thrusts of his hips and the talent of his fingers on your clit to finally bring your orgasm to life. He shoved his tongue into your mouth as you screamed through it, imitating some sloppy version of a kiss while you flailed and creamed on his cock, your body becoming truly boneless and tired as the orgasm rocked you.

When it was finished, he was still throbbing hard inside of you, and you let out a whine of disappointment. You were absolutely dead tired now, and you couldn’t even think of how much energy it would take to finish him off. Mister ‘Twice In A Sunday’ could last quite a long time, and that didn’t exactly work for you in that moment.

“You can go to sleep now, babe.” He whispered into your ear. “I’ll clean you up when I’m done.”

He began thrusting into you once more, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed.

It ended up being a good night for both of you.

...

If you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.

#sundrop writes #dc titans #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut #dc titans fanfiction #titans x reader #titans hbo #titans!jason x reader

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steddielations · 1 year ago

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Eddie’s missing. Steve can’t form a coherent thought beyond: Eddie’s missing, find him. The last few hours, it’s been his every thought, his every action.

There’s never a smooth visit to Hawkins. Eddie’s reputation has only gotten worse in the years since they moved to Chicago. Every time they come back, something goes wrong. But Eddie wanted to spend Wayne’s birthday with him, which also happens to be his mom’s birthday. That’s why he put on Wayne’s Muddy Waters record after a few drinks too many, mumbling, “Doesn’t sound the same.”

One second, Eddie was drunkenly rocking to the music, then he went outside for a smoke and didn’t come back.

Wayne shouldn’t be out in the cold weather, but nothing could stop him from getting in his pickup to look for Eddie.

Steve’s mind jumps to nightmare conclusions. Eddie still has enemies, maybe they’re finally taking their revenge. Or what if they hadn’t destroyed the gate afterall and something worse took Eddie? Steve’s mind skipped every small explanation, but that detail about Eddie’s mom comes back.

He’s searching backroads and the thought leads him down Philadelphia street. No one goes there anymore, convinced there’s more ‘Munson victims’ buried where Eddie’s childhood home once stood.

Steve sags with relief when he shines the headlights and sees Eddie among the piles of old burned wood.

“Eddie!” Steve’s already jumping out the car, hurrying to him, “Oh God, there you are. What are you doing out here, baby? You okay?”

Eddie doesn’t seem to realize Steve’s there, frantically digging through the rubble. Looking for something.

“Eddie?” Steve reaches him, crouching down next to him, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Without looking up, Eddie mumbles something like, “Can’t find ‘em.”

“Can’t find what?” Steve asks, keeping his tone soft despite how worried and confused he is. Eddie doesn’t answer. There’s random cuts and splinters on his hands, covered in dirt and soot but he doesn’t slow down. Steve winces at the sight and reaches for his shoulder, rubbing gently to get his attention.

“Eddie, look at me, hey. What is it? You can’t find what?”

Finally, Eddie turns to look at him. Though, his stare is a thousand miles away, eyes wide and bloodshot. The headlights show tear tracks through the soot dirtying his face. It’s like he’s in a trance, still mumbling things Steve can’t quite make out. He can smell the beer on Eddie, but he knows this isn’t just from drinking. Eddie gets stuck in his head sometimes, like in the boathouse all those years ago. Reliving nightmares from '86, and things that happened to him long before that too.

“Her records,” Eddie stresses, “My mom’s records. I left them right here.”

Steve looks down where he points to nothing but charred, rotting wood. There hasn’t been a house here in years. Steve remembers the fire, everyone said Eddie did it just because he was a ‘no good Munson’. Steve didn’t learn the real story until later. Eddie told him about the records, how they burned in 84 when all his dad’s scheming backfired.

“Eddie…”

“They were right here!” Eddie interrupts, almost like part of him knows what Steve’s going to say and he doesn’t want to hear it. “I left them right here and now I can’t find them.”

With a half-choked sob, he turns back to scouring through the rubble.

“Hey, It’s okay.”

“No it’s not. I gotta find them, Steve, they’re all I have of her,” Eddie strangles out, flinching when Steve’s hand slides behind his shoulders.

Steve swallows down the emotion swelling in his chest. Feeling powerless to really do anything, he says, “Okay, we’ll— we’ll find them. It’s okay.”

That’s the only thing that seems to ease Eddie. Though, the way he slumps seems like he knows it’s not true, but lets himself believe it anyway. Just for the comfort.

He’s breathing raggedly, shivering in the cold and every sob rattles his body under Steve’s hand. Finally, he lets himself sink fully into Steve, his cold wet nose pressed to Steve’s collarbone.

“S’all I got. Momma’s music,” he keeps repeating as Steve rubs his back, so drunk and so sad, “Gotta get ‘em back. S’all I got left of her.”

“I know, baby, we’ll find them.” Steve presses kisses into Eddie’s forehead, holding him and rubbing his back. It’s not the truth, Eddie knows that, but he doesn’t need the truth right now. So Steve says it again and again, as long as Eddie needs to hear it. “We’ll find them.”

#sorry again #if you know you know #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #stranger things #rueswriting #mp

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purplelupins · 7 months ago

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Lamb

Midnight Mass

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Father John Pruitt/Father Paul hill x fem!reader

Word count:12.3k

Summery: An entire life of being a good girl was a difficult cross to carry...especially in a tiny town with 127 residents on a good day. You kept the town fed and spirits as high as you could, but when a new face steps off the afternoon Breeze, things around you start to change; you don't even know you're in the eye of the storm.

Warnings: nsfw, reader is religious, religious symbolism, ideology, explanations and general conversations of religion, age gap (like this man is 80 technically and he watched reader grow up, and can remember reader as a little girl so if that’s creepy to you then go no further), stalking, manipulation, murder (hello have you seen the show?), drinking of blood, hunting of a person, grief, description of animal death, reader is described as blushing, character death, non consensual help showering, guilt and god maybe more but I think that’s it…this is not really a fix it fic

Notes:

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You were never a fan of when Beverly was given the opportunity to lead worship. You never felt fully untuned- half of the time it felt more akin to a scolding lesson in school than a reminder of Him. She liked to highlight “them and us” between believers and non believers of Crockett. Somehow she always managed to spin things into belittling those who didn’t attend church, and those days were always a little…tense. This was a time of worshiping and remembering God, not a time of a hierarchy.

“Here we are again. Back to normal. Funny how the pews empty back out once everyone has their ashes, isn’t it?” She paused as if to ridicule the non-churchgoers.

You pursed your lips as she continued, and found yourself looking at small details around the church. Chips in the paint, the crosses, the windows, Father Paul gazing at you-

Startled, you looked back to where you had just been looking and sure enough you caught the Father flicking his eyes away just in time as he bowed his head. You stared at him for a moment, but he was fixated on the rosary in his hand.

Had you imagined it?

You kept your eyes down for the rest of the morning, and ridiculed yourself for thinking the Father would look at you. Why would that be a thought that entered your mind? You didn’t even stop to speak with him after church.

If you had looked behind you, however, you would have seen the Father’s forlorn gaze flickering to your form during his conversations- distracted. He turned back to the islander he spoke to and flashed them a tight smile as they moved on and he spoke to the next person, but John felt a hollowness in his gut, and he wasn’t certain it was from hunger.

Even that night when John went for a stroll down the island like he used to, he stopped several yards from your house and forced himself to turn around. He muttered prayers under his breath the entire way back to the rectory, and knelt before the cross on his wall for another hour before he slept.

“Sheriff? Sheriff!” You yelled as you stepped off your bike at the marina the next morning. You needed a couple things from the Mainland, and had a short list you hoped Hassan would be able to get for you during his time there for his Friday prayer.

The man turned, hand on his hip, “Morning to you too.”

“I have a favour?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes and clasped your hands in front of you.

Hassan rolled his eyes and huffed but you could tell it was a show, “Out with it.”

“I’m just out of a couple things for the shop and you can get them all at this store- I wrote the address down and the list and it’s close to the mosque you go to! Please? There’s some cash in there too.” You held an envelope out hopefully.

He stared at you for a long moment, then slowly took the paper from you, “This isn’t going to be a habit right?”

“Thank you! Thank you thank you, I promise it won’t.” You bounced.

He fixed you another look, but you knew he was smiling a little under that moustache.

“You’re the best!” You called to him when you hopped back on your bike, “Oh! This is for you.” You reached into the basket and retrieved a brown paper bag.

Hassan smiled a little.

“One muffin and a berry tart.” You returned his smile.

He relented. “Fine, fine. I’ll be back this afternoon.” He grumbled.

“Have a safe trip!” You called, “And hey, you really should wash that jean jacket, Sheriff or it might walk away on its own one day!” You quipped and began pedaling away.

Hassan shook his head. He liked having you around. You were a breath of fresh air amongst the stale islanders, and he hoped he could call you a friend one day.

You knew you were cutting it close for Mass, so you sped your way across the island and up the hill to St. Patrick’s where you were happy to see still a few people filing in. You laid your bike down beside the church and jumped up the steps to go and find your spot. One of the perks of a small town was every person had their spot that they sat in- you never had to fight over it.

Your shoulders deflated slightly when Bev took her place atop the pulpit and began the service. “Our responsorial psalm today is Psalm 27. “The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom then shall I fear?”.”

“The Lord is the strength of my life, of whom then shall I be afraid? When evildoers came upon me to eat up my flesh, it was they, my foes and adversaries, who stumbled and fell. Though an army should encamp against me, yet my heart shall not be afraid. And though war should rise up against me, I will put my trust in Him. One thing I have asked of the Lord, one thing I seek, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord, all the days of my life.” Her reading was simple and dry. You found your eyes glazing over, waiting for the Fathers homily.

Then you mentally slapped yourself. This was a time of worship, it didn’t matter if it was boring. You had grown used to the vivid approach he always took during Mass. You laughed a little to yourself when you thought you were a little addicted to it.

As if someone could become addicted to a preacher…don’t be ridiculous.

You remained seated, and watched as Father Paul approached Leeza first for the Eucharist. You liked that he carried on the tradition of serving her first since the accident, even though he wasn’t there. The amount of respect and care he had for the islanders was so selfless.

“Body of Christ, Leeza.” The good Father murmured just as he always did. So gentle.

“Amen.” She said, cupping her hands out.

Silence fell over the church then. You felt confusion fill you when he stopped just a couple steps away from her, and then even took a few steps back.

“Come on. Body of Christ.” He repeated, beckoning her with the wafer.

“Father, what are you doing?” Wade chuckled nervously.

You looked over at Erin, and she had the same look of slight horror that you did. What was he doing? Surely he didn’t think this was a joke.

“Body of Christ.” He repeated.

“What are you doing?” Wade asked again with more of a bite.

Leeza directed her chair to move forward, but Father Paul only stepped back further.

“No. No.” He muttered, and stepped up the stairs of the pulpit.

The worshipers around you began to murmur. You felt pressure start to build in your chest. Anxiety and ire weighing heavy in your stomach the longer he stood there out of her reach. Was he sick? What was he doing?

“Come on. Body of Christ.” Now his voice echoed in the space as he called the girl up to him. Relentless.

“No, stop it.” Erin snapped as she stood, “That’s cruel.”

“Come on.” He repeated, still calm.

Dolly got up and knelt by her daughter, trying to comfort her, “Leeza, honey.” Then she looked up at the pastor and her eyes were like ice, “What is wrong with you?”

“Father Hill enough.” You spoke- emotion making your voice shake.

But still he only stood and waited for Leeza.

You watched Wade stand with his family, each person growing more and more defensive and outraged, “If this is a joke, Father, it’s not funny. I…”

But then, it was as if all air had left the church- all sound gone too. You didn’t know what it was that you were seeing, and you were terrified to blink lest it go away. All horror you felt sunk into the Earth and your head felt light.

Leeza was standing. Freely.

“Leeza?” Wade asked in disbelief.

A woman across from you fainted as she stood.

Your ears felt all prickly and your fingers felt numb.

You could still remember when the accident had happened. How devastating it had been. Hell you used to walk with the Scarboroughs some nights when they went as a family.

Dolly was a mess for almost a year…now they only managed.

Leeza took a step, and then another, and then she was stepping up the stairs and you felt tears start to well in your eyes as you stared up in shock. You couldn’t blink.

“Body of Christ.” Father Hill said once more, and placed the wafer in Leesa’s hands.

“Amen.” She said, voice wavering.

You released a breath, and tore your eyes from Leeza to look up at the Father. He was watching her with such kindness and pride in his eyes as she turned and walked into her parents arms.

Who was he? How could…how could he have known?

Murmurs filled the church as people praised God and crossed themselves.

But you could only see how Father Hill began to sway and cough. He caught himself on the alter, but then pushed himself towards the back door into the vestibule. Your blood began to run cold with worry as he almost ran out of view.

You would have run after him yourself if Bev hadn’t.

Your head was spinning and you felt disconnected from your body.

You didn’t know what to think or do, so you wordlessly walked to Leeza and embraced her. She held you and wept into your shoulder.

You felt your heart.

It hurt.

Ached.

You walked with the Scarboroughs into town to see Dr. Gunning, and kept quiet to let them speak to one another. Disbelief and awe coloured their words as they encouraged their daughter.You kept one arm under Leeza’s while Wade had the other; they talked, and talked until your face hurt from smiling, and you were helping her up the steps to the doctors house.

It all seemed so…miraculous.

Such a God given gift.

Once Leeza was inside safely, you quietly backed out and waved them off. You began your way to your shop, and the entire walk was within a blink of an eye. You might have looked calm and thoughtful from the outside, but oh your mind was churning.

How? How? You could still remember seeing Leeza for the first time after the accident. How broken her and her family was.

You remembered all the specialists they saw and all the visits they made to the mainland. How some visits left them hopeful but most left them even more lost and helpless than the last.

You knew they barely afforded groceries now because of the bills.

Now, you didn’t know if you should weep out of joy or fall to your knees and vomit. It was as if someone you loved had risen from the dead…certainly it was wonderful but somehow you felt a little weary.

Perhaps it was years of empty promises after the oil spill…

You didn’t even remember doing deliveries that day. But somehow you finished them. News travelled quickly- by the time you had been halfway through people were talking to you about little Leezas recovery. You didn’t remember talking much, only saying what a miracle it was. You were back at your shop, just hopping off your bike when you realized you had completely spaced out the entire time.

How?

How…

How did he do that…

It seemed as if something had taken root in the island and had begun changing the chemistry of everything attached to it. First the good moods, now Leeza was walking down Main Street like nothing had happened.

But then when you walked home, you realised how deeply you were dissecting the wonderful event. You wondered if you had become a sceptic without even knowing. Were you so cynical to Gods powers that you questioned his will?

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring down at the rosary in your hands. The little cross glinted in the darkness.

Faith…

Did you lack it?

Had you begun to loose it?

Were you so ungrateful?

You felt tears prickle at your eyes but you refused to let them fall. You needed guidance, not tears. With a heavy heart, you sunk to your knees and began to pray.

It took a full week for you to muster up the courage to ask the Father for an appointment later on Saturday afternoon. Your day to yourself, and your time to relieve your consciousness. Your day to work on yourself.

Which was why you stood on the rectory’s doorstep, fidgeting.

A part of you told you that you were being needy. Selfish. That you just needed to get your head on straight and that you didn’t need to worry the Father with you being self-centred. That if this had been Father Pruitt you wouldn’t have bothered but for some reason you were more willing to see Father Hill.

You knocked, and didn’t have to wait long before the door was being opened. Father Hill stood there with a welcoming smile, “Right on time.” He said, “Come in, y/n.”

You nodded and quietly entered the small house. It felt so strange to be there alone with him. Not uncomfortable just…odd. Like you were somewhere you shouldn’t be.

“Sit, please.” He gestured to the couch, and dragged a chair over from his desk over to sit in front of you.

You perched on the edge, and folded your hands in your lap, “Thank you, Father…I- I know I was a little vague when I asked you to do this…but if I’m honest I’ve always disliked the confessional booth. I’m um…a bit claustrophobic.” You admitted.

He chuckled a little and shook his head, “No apology needed. Sometimes that anonymity that comes with a confessional isn’t right for every confession. I told you I was here when you needed and I meant that.”

His honesty and understanding put you a little at ease. Your nerves were still very much there, though. There was no backing out of this now, so you took a deep breath.

“Have you…have you ever had difficulties with faith, Father?” You asked, eyes flickering to his white collar for half a second.

John admittedly was not expecting that from you. If the implications were that you were having difficulties with faith, then he was surprised. Regardless, he nodded.

“Certainly…we’re all human, even me, and we are made to have ups and downs no matter how dedicated we are to our Lord.” He said gently, resting his elbows on his knees.

You stared back at him, hard. You knew you were ridged. You hadn’t opened up to a soul about this turmoil you had begun to feel, and you hoped to God that Father Hill was the right person to hear you.

You clenched your hands against each other, and put your trust in him.

“I think…I think I’ve become…” you swallowed again when your throat became tight.

Be straightforward.

“I think I’m losing my faith, Father…” you pursed your lips, “It might sound silly for me to say that because you see me at church every day and I’m committed to the community, but I think that I’ve been losing my true love for my faith for a long time…” you whispered. Hearing it out loud made tears start to well in your eyes. You didn’t know why exactly, though perhaps it was the sense that you had failed yourself, your family, your community and your God.

“I’m here with you, y/n…keep going.” He took your hand, and gazed at you, encouraging you.

You took a tight breath.

“It’s just always been a part of my life- getting up and going to Mass and praying before bed and reading the Bible and being a good girl who doesn’t ask too many questions and puts everyone else first and keeps her head down…” you could feel tears start to fall.

“I never really thought about it but…it’s been a couple years now and…it just gets heavier and heavier and I don’t want that burden.”

You bit at your bit as you let everything out, “I read a lot. The internet connection out here is horrible but I’ve done a lot of research on the Bible to try and deepen my understanding and I just find myself tripping over questions, and holes that don’t have answers…things that have been added only a few hundred years ago and things that have been forgotten or omitted…I’ve never even mentioned this to anyone…I think they would assume I was joking because it’s just…a part of who I am. Who I’ve always been…”

You slowly looked back up to Father Hill, and found him watching you patiently. Non-judgemental, just waiting for you to have your time.

John slowly reached out and took your hands in his. You were hanging onto his every move, and he took your silence as a cue to speak.

“Ma-may I?” He asked, and you nodded, “This isn’t about God.”

You blinked. You weren’t expecting that.

Father Hill started again, elaborating,“You feel you’re losing your faith, but I think what you’re losing is yourself. Your sense of self…so much of having faith is endurance and I know you have that. You have faith, young lady and I know you won’t let anything take it from you. You know how I know?” He asked you.

You shook your head.

“Because you’re afraid.” He whispered, his large thumb rubbing your knuckles gently.

You let a tear fall as you held his gaze.

“Because you came here. Luke said “His mercy extends to those who fear him.” And I think that is exactly what will happen for you. I think your fear of God is just a testament of your faith. And I believe you will be granted a great mercy.”.”He said passionately, “But I think what you are truly going through is a need for guidance in yourself.”

You stared at him for a long moment. Perhaps a full minute.

Another tear fell.

Then another.

Then many.

Until you couldn’t see and your cheeks were soaked.

“Shh…shh, that’s okay, I’m with you…shh.” He cooed to you, “I’m here to help…” the Father scooted a little closer.

You nodded, trying to get a hold of yourself, “Sorry-I’m sorry-“

He squeezed your hands.

Had he been holding your hand this entire time?

You took slow shaky breaths until you could speak again.

“I love everyone here…and I do love my life here. It’s simple and fairly easy…but…I can’t help but feel I’m missing something. Like I pretended to be some expectation for so long that now it’s become me and I don’t know how else to be. But realising it is so much worse than just living that way. Delusion is an amazing thing.”

Father Hill sat still for a moment as he thought. “I think being honest will help that turmoil you feel. Nothing too out of your comfort zone but…just enough that you feel truer to yourself…I have been where you are…many years ago. Just as many have.” His voice lulling you into a state of calm.

You looked up at him, eyes starting to dry.

“I had an older sister…” he said gently, “She passed when I was 8…and her death was why I began to look at God and his divine plan and that was where I found my faith. I questioned why and how her death fit into everything and how her death was justified by Him and…in that quest to grieve and find answers, I found some, but I also found God. You are on a similar journey right now and you will find what you’re looking for. It might even be given to you when you least think it will come to you…it may even hurt at first but in time I think you might grow to see it as a revival.”

His words settled into your head, and you sat in comfortable silence for a few moments. One last tear fell, “Thank you, Father Hill.” You smiled.

The older man reached up and gently wiped that last tear away and patted your hand, “For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you…” he murmured.

You nodded, and sniffled.

“I’ll make some tea.” He said, and stood after one last reassuring look at you. Somehow his calm seeped into you and your body welcomed it like it was made to. Your shoulders were relaxed as was your jaw. You felt at peace with having gone to him.

John needed a moment away from your proximity. It was a miracle he could keep his composure as you sat there- shooting pains rocked his stomach as hunger brutalized his body.

“I noticed St. Patrick’s has been fuller…” you murmured, wanting to direct attention from you.

“Ah- yes well it seems little Leezas recovery has reawakened the faith of many.” He agreed, regaining a steady voice.

“The island has had a religious revival Father,” you said as he returned with two cups of tea, “The only thing that’s changed…is you.” You looked up from the cup in your hands to gage his reaction. It had indeed been something you noticed, as had many people especially after Leeza…

He tapped the edge of his cup as he took a seat beside you on the couch.

You tried to give him the nudge to speak just as he had for you, “You don’t know what it was like before…I haven’t seen people so engaged in sermons before. You…you have a true gift. You have helped to resurrect this island, Father Hill.”

“I’m glad you see it that way.” He smiled a little.

“You help people everyday.” You turned to look at Father Hill directly.

“So do you.” The man shrugged nonchalantly.

Your nose scrunched a little, “Not really…I try to support my community, but I don’t know about helping.”

“No- no. You do, don’t deflect- you do,” Father Hill shook his head, “You know you do too but you’re so used to it that it’s second nature. That’s a blessed attribute to have.” He insisted, “Especially since things haven’t exactly been easy here since that oil spill. I can only imagine…”

You pursed your lips.

“It’s been…difficult. It’s better now but it was horrible for a long time. I just…” you looked down at the warm liquid in your cup, “I believe you can’t wait for life to be easy before you decide to start helping the people you love.” You muttered.

John felt his heart tug- this time not out of pain. It was a tug of sorrow. As he gazed at this young woman beside him he began to feel as if the two of you were kindred spirits of some kind. You both shared a look, and John found that he had come to understand you a little better, and he began to understand why you were the one he saw first that day on the dock.

You parted ways with the Father sometime later into the evening. It had been a little odd how he had almost ushered you out as soon as he had noticed the darkness outside. He had said something about not wanting a young woman like you being outside at night. You had almost laughed at how old he had sounded.

John had caught the tug of your lips that you hid by ducking your head down. He liked that you smiled around him- that you weren’t afraid…

It would make everything so much easier. You are already to receptive to his guidance…

You left the rectory that night feeling as if something had taken root in you too. Perhaps it was the Fathers spirit of hope settling into your sinew and melding with your blood that had you feeling a little more…looked after.

Cared for.

Seen.

You felt as if you truly were not alone. Like he was always with you even as you walked home.

After your confession, you found yourself bumping into the Father often in town. On a few occasions he walked you home after your working day was done if he happened to be in the area, and you even stopped by the rectory to borrow a book. You found a deep solace being near the preacher, and in your need for a cure to your listlessness, you didn’t even stop to think if you were following his word or God’s.

His sweet, compelling, passionate words that seemed to evoke such a vivaciousness in you.

You started bringing batches of baked goods on Sundays too. Nothing extravagant, but something for the worshipers to enjoy after. There was something in you, pushing you to do better, but on your own terms. Doing it for your own pleasure and not the pleasure of others.

You noticed how that laughter from the potluck was now a common thing. Smiles were normal. You heard people joking, and going for evening walks and morning jogs. Kisses and hugs.

Was there something in the air?

But while you were enjoying your new outlook on life, John could not be more worried for you. It had been two weeks now that he wasn’t able to give you the sacrament. He had tried once more after your first comment but he heard you say something to Bev about it.

Certainly you had a little of the gift in you…but it wasn’t enough. Perhaps a tablespoon. Only enough to make you feel a little brighter, but not enough to…to change. Revive.

He was at a loss.

But the more he prayed, the more he came to realize that perhaps it wasn’t your time. It would come. He knew it would. It had to. And when it did you too would be blessed…even if he was the one to bless you himself.

“Three weeks ago, when we began this journey of repentance, I asked those of you were here to keep a few words in mind. Rebirth, second chances, eternal life. That's a lot to wrap your head around, isn't it? I can barely visualize next week, let alone eternity, But, I mean, for most of us, eternity, it’s an abstract. It’s a metaphor, a colorful exaggeration. When we’re waiting for something we want, it takes forever.We sit in traffic for an eternity. Abstracts, metaphors, colorful exaggerations. To us, maybe, but not to God. Not to Him. ..” he said thoughtfully, “And it shouldn’t be for us, either. Communion, the transformation of bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ. A metaphor? No,” he slapped the pulpit, “God tells us. Miracles, walking on water, rising from the dead. Abstracts? No.” He slapped it again, “God tells us. Eternal life, a colorful exaggeration?”

You heard Wade say “no”, and the verbalisation made you jump a little. No one usually spoke.

“No? That’s right. You call it out.God’s gifts are as tangible as the ground beneath our feet,” he stomped the pedestal, and you jumped again.

“And His covenant, it’s not abstract. No. It’s a contract, scrawled in flesh, inked in the blood of the martyrs. And yet, try as we might, we cannot visualize, we cannot mentally picture the rewards promised…” you noticed him fan himself for a moment, and you were suddenly snapped from your trance.

Was he alright?

“Well, if you’re here seeking to know answers to the unknowable, it’s incumbent upon me to tell you that I have none. And if you want to know why or how God’s will shapes the world, brothers and sisters, so do I. I don’t have all the answers. Nobody does. What I do have though, and what God gives us plentifully, are mysteries.God gives us miracles very rarely, here and there, but mysteries?…”

Your worry began to grow when the Father stopped all together. He seemed to adjust himself where he stood, though somehow he still didn’t seem quite right.

“Sorry. Um…As… adults, we tend to dislike mysteries. We… We feel uncomfortable not knowing.No. To be a child. To look with awe and wonder, and live with staggering honesty. To be guiltless, light as air. To bend softly as the word of God sweeps…” he speech began to grow almost wandering. As if he wasn’t entirely lucid…almost like the old Monsignor-

John felt his stomach twitch with pain as he stood before his growing flock. He could barely see let alone think as his body seemed to betray itself.

“I’m very sorry. I’m…Sorry, I’m just a little bit tired today. A tiny dizzy spell. It’s passed. I’m fine. Sorry. I’m very sorry. Um…The more that we know, the less we bend. The more brittle we become, the easier to break. Like some would say this island broke. Was broken. But I am here to tell you…the resurrection, body and soul, the redemption, body and soul, the miracles waiting for us here on Crockett Island. Not metaphors, not abstracts, not colorful exaggerations, no. Rebirth, second chances. Eter…”

You watched in horror as Father Hill tumbled to the ground with a thud. There was a rush to help him, but your mind seemed to click into gear when you quickly grabbed one of the phones left on a pew and dialled Dr. Gunning’s office.

She barely got a word out before you; your voice shook as you spoke quickly, “The- Father Hill- he’s collapsed, please come up to the church, Doctor.” You rushed out.

“Calm down, calm down, is he breathing?” She said, calm as ever.

You stood quickly and rushed over to the crowd. Without a thought, you knelt beside the Father and placed your ear on his chest.

“What on earth-“ Bev started to ask, from her spot beside you, but you didn’t pay attention as you sat up again and put the phone to your ear.

“Yes he is.” You said.

“I’ll be there soon. Get him some air if he wakes up.” She sighed.

You nodded, and hung up.

“Well?” Bev snapped at you.

You blinked, “Dr. Gunning- She’ll be here soon…water- uh can- can someone get some cool water and a towel please?” You tried to think of anything you could do to help in the meantime.

Someone started to go, but it seemed Bev wanted to be involved. “I’ll get it.” She huffed and disappeared from your side.

Wade crouched beside you, and checked over Father Hill. He looked over at you and you gave him a reassuring smile. “I think the Father could use some air, Mr.Mayor.”

He nodded and looked up that the distressed crowd.

“It’s alright everyone. If he could get some room please? He needs extra air…Sturge could you open the door please?” Wade asked.

The man in question nodded and did as he asked while the townspeople began to disperse.

Bev returned a moment later and you took the cloth from her and dampened it from the bowl of water.

“Thank you…” you mumbled, then very gently began to dab at Father Hill’s forehead, then at the skin peaking out from his chasuble around his neck.

A few minutes passed with Beverly fussing in the background, but slowly you noticed his colour returning, and eyes start to flicker until they opened slowly. You felt relief fill you up and you sighed.

John gazed up at you and he swore there was a halo surrounding your head as you sat over him. Your brows scrunched in worry, but your watchful eyes gazing down at him.

“Glory be…” Came his whisper.

You looked down at him and wiped his brow once more. The man blinked a few more times then went to sit up, but several hands rushed to keep him down.

“Slowly, Father…slowly.” Someone said.

You helped the Father rise up to sit, and dabbed the back of his neck. “You passed out Father.” you said.

“I’m sorry- so sorry…” he nodded. grinding his teeth slightly when a wave of pain hit him, “I’m…uh not sure what’s wrong with me today.” He said as humorously as he could, though both he and the islanders knew there was nothing to joke about.

Even as you watched Sturge and Wade help him into the rectory with Sarah and Bev, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something gravely wrong with him. Not that you have ever exactly noticed anything…but certainly there were times where he seemed to almost clench, and work through a minor pain- covering it with a cough or stretch. Things that were so barely there you wouldn’t even think twice.

While that day was your day to yourself and the shop was closed, you found that you were listless. Worried, curious. Fretting.

So silly really.

You mindlessly baked a batch of muffins, and remembered halfway through how much the Father liked them. On more than one occasion he had stopped by to purchase a few.

You put a few in a container, and set out on your bike across the island. You hoped he was doing well… if he didn’t answer you were content with just leaving them on his stoop, though you found yourself wanting to see for yourself that he was alright.

You leaned your bike by the church, and strode over to the rectory. It was still afternoon, and you hoped you could catch him before he went to the Gunnings. You thought it was so sweet that he did that for Mildred.

You knocked, and waited. It was quiet for a long moment, then the door opened slowly. Father Hill stood before you disheveled. His top button was undone, collar missing, and his hair looked to have been brushed back with his fingers.

“Oh- y/n please…come in.” He moved aside.

You looked to the side then slowly walked into the small home. It was cozy and simple. It felt warm. “I’m so sorry for bothering you father…I’m sure you’ve had plenty of people coming by to check on you…” you trailed off, looking for a spot to but the container down.

“Nonsense…I was hoping you could come actually…” he said quietly, gingerly perching against the edge of the kitchen counter, “I wanted to thank you.”

That caught you off guard.

You blinked, and shook your head, “What for?”

“For extending that helping hand of yours to me. It was a joy to be helped by you. A blessing- you are a uh, a blessing.” Father Hill stared back at you like he meant every word he said and more, though you couldn’t help but notice the slightly delirious stare he had.

You hadn’t expected anything like this when you had set out to drop off the muffins still in your hands, but you found yourself growing warm at his praise.

“I-well I just…-“

“Just what? Did what anyone would do?” He cut you off, smiling a little wearily.

“Yes…”you admitted.

“And did anyone else do what you did?” He prodded, head tilting so slightly to the side.

You looked down, then back up at him, and shook your head.

“And now you come here again to my aid with something that is not a casserole you see you truly are just wonderful.” He smiled a little more, and you did too, and laughed.

“Ah… the Crockett islanders at their finest. If ever you’re sick you will have at least a few of those in your fridge by night fall.” You joked, though it was true, “I- um I remember you liked those muffins that I made last week and I was worr- I made some extra and thought you might like them.” You caught yourself.

“Thank you, dear girl…” he said, but winced when he went to say something else. You placed the container down on the counter beside him and gently put your hand on his arm.

“Father? Are you feeling dizzy?” You asked.

“I- I am just a little…” he admitted, blinking a few times to get through the fog.

“I’ll help you to your room. Rest for a while, alright?” You took his arm and slowly directed him to the back of the rectory where you assumed he slept.

“I’m fine…just tired.” He tried to reassure you.

“I’m sure you are Father.” You walked him to the edge of his bed, and sat him down, “Rest. I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“You’re a good girl, y/n, thank you. You’ve made this adjustment blessedly easy.” He told you, staring up at you.

You saw something in his weary gaze then. You didn’t know what it was. But you somehow noted it in your mind.

You squeezed the hand of his that held yours, “Rest, Father. God willing, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Father Paul nodded, “You will.” He smiled weakly.

You released his hand, and gave him a small wave before leaving the small house. You felt sorry for the man being all alone there, but you were sure Bev would be by to pester him soon if she hadn’t already.

Then as you picked your bike up, you heard the crunching of gravel under shoes. You looked up to see the very woman. “Hello Bev.” You called to her.

“Ah, y/n. I do hope you haven’t bothered Father Hill too much.” She smiled tersely.

“Not at all. Just dropped off something that wasn’t a casserole.” You smiled a little more genuine.

“Well, thank you for your contribution. Very kind.” With that she turned and began to walk past you. You half considered telling her he was resting, but you knew it wouldn’t deter her. You sighed, and peddled away.

Another shift had begun around you. Off balanced.

You noticed it in small things.

Not necessarily bad, but not especially good. Less and less wildlife hummed around the bushes and trees, and you noticed how there was such a divide between the attitudes of church goers and non. Conversing with someone who didn’t attend now felt like a bucket of cold water in comparison to those who you saw regularly. Like there was a bubble around the parishioners. And you weren’t certain you liked that.

Your worry only deepened when you went to Mass the next morning only to see that it would be candelled that day. A frown tugged at your mouth, though you tried to not think too much about it. The Father was ill, you knew that. It was nothing else but that.

It wasn’t as if you knew that the very man was dodging the gaps in the curtains to look out at his flock returning to their homes and jobs without their daily Mass. And of course there you stood- a worried look muddling your beautiful face.

Had you always been so pretty?

Vibrant.

A halo around your hair where the sun caught it.

John watched you back away from the church, though he saw you clench and unclench your hands and look to and from the church to the rectory. You wanted to check on him. Such a dutiful lamb.

Something visceral in him made him nearly open the door and call you inside. Beckon you to him. Just as he felt that need there was an ache in his mouth like he needed to bite, hard. A side affect to…to dying he supposed. He put his trust in God but this hurt was unbearable.

John prayed and wept and doubled over as he accepted and waded through the pain. The bulk of it finally subsided by the evening. It seemed almost as if as soon as the sun had gone down his body relaxed.

Just a little.

Enough to make himself look presentable, and step out from his front door no matter how nervously.

Like his body knew he was safe with the sun down. No more burns.

As he strode across the island, John found himself marvelling at the new-found beauty around him. Living halos of light around the stars, and lamplights. Colours and smells and sounds he had never experienced. He could almost feel the earth breathe.

Seeing Millie in her home that night was something special. She remembered him. Saw him. He could have weapt just by seeing the look of recognition on her face. Feeling her hands hold his and that smile. John’s heart ached.

As did his stomach. Painfully.

So hungry.

John hurried along after the little reprieve with Mildred, but found himself taking a little detour. He didn’t mean to; his feet just took him that way. Just a little bit of a longer walk home.

Past your house.

Your curtains were open again.

John found himself walking a little closer, something enticing drawing him in. He stood just outside your window. You were just getting ready for bed…he could almost smell you; all fresh from the shower.

John sighed, then winced when another surge of hunger punched his stomach. That ache he had felt in his jaw returned tenfold, and he felt his vision start to fade.

There was nothing to do but get back to the rectory. Quickly. John employed his long strides and muttered prayers under his breath. He needed to be away. Hide. There was no preparation for this next phase of revival. He wasn’t ready. This deep carnal hunger was eating away at him. He needed more of the sacrament.

Now.

He needed help. John paced the rectory, and felt his nerves and veins and muscles and tendons tugging at him, begging him for nourishment. Feed me, Father, feed me.

“Angel of God my, guardian dear to whom Gods love commits me here…”

He mindlessly grasped the bottle of communion wine, and let it empty down the back of his throat yet it somehow wasn’t enough. He needed more.

More more-

“Uh…Father?”

Something deep inside John Pruitt unfurled then. It began to seep into his tissue and into his bloodstream. John turned, startled.

“Oh…Hello Joe.”

The following morning was a little bit of a slow one for you. You half considered calling the rectory just to see if there would indeed be Mass at all, but decided against it. You brushed your hair, and tied it back; grabbed any extra ingredients you needed for the morning and set off.

Even as you kneaded the doughs and whipped cream and stirred batter you found yourself lagging.

The walk to Mass was slow too.

Off kilter.

You took your usual seat, but your brows pinch together when you saw Ali sitting not too far from you. You looked to see if Hassan had come with him, but to only deepen your confusion, he was alone. You leaned forward a little in your pew, “Ali?” You murmured loud enough for him.

The boy jumped a little, but relaxed when he saw it was you.

“Come.” You smiled and patted the spot beside you, and he instantly looked grateful. Ali stood and made his way back to you, and you sent him another smile as he sat. You didn’t ask him why he was there, it wasn’t your business. You had always liked Ali- a sweet boy with good manners for the most part.

Then, you looked to the other side of the church, and noticed that Erin was missing. She never missed Sunday Mass. Never.

Something in your stomach curled tight.

An anxious feeling of anticipation.

Without the presence of Father Hill to envelope the church, you found yourself gazing around the building. You looked at the windows, and the pews until your gaze fell upon the wooden figure of Jesus crucified.

Had it always been so grotesque?

Were you worshiping a man? God was supposed to be a being that governed over everything…omnipotent…why would he descend to earth in the body of a man? Why would he need to if he created messengers like Moses and Noah and so many others…

Your mind began to spin out of control until you were starting to wonder what you were doing there.

The distress you felt only grew deeper when a half hour passed, and Father Hill still hadn’t made an appearance. You looked over at Annie, then even looked up at that back of Bev’s head as if she might have an answer written there.

Finally the woman had had enough and made her way to the rectory. You perched on your seat, waiting for anything to happen. It was nearly another twenty minutes that passed before Bev returned- faux smile already on her face as she took a spot upon the pulpit.

“Good morning!” She began, “Well I have to tell you it is such a delight to see this church so full every day, thank God. I'm afraid this morning though that we have to - well, I think we'll have to cancel Mass.”

You scrunched your brows in surprise. But then that feeling you had had inside you tilted again, a little more in the wrong direction. Twisting. You felt nauseated.

“Father Paul's bouncing back from a stomach bug, poor thing, and I just had to physically restrain the dear man and put him to bed, he was so determined to be here! He'll be back on his feet in just no time at all but this morning, at least, our dear Dolly Scarborough - come up here Dolly…” she encouraged Dolly to come up beside her, and while the good natured woman did, she was just as confused as the rest of the churchgoers.

There had certainly been times with Monsignor Pruitt when his health was hanging by a thread and Mass was cancelled but…Father Hill was in prime condition how could he still be so ill?

“Uh, maybe Dolly can lead us in singing, and some readings, and some prayer, and we can still celebrate together, like the Christians of old, who sang praises to God long before they had priests to lead the way. Uh let’s start with Hymn number 473, "Be Thou My Vision". Dolly, can you lead us?” Bev looked over to Andy who began to play his organ, and slowly everyone followed Dolly’s singing.

But then you watched as Bev began to leave again, this time accompanied by Sturge and Wade. They disappeared out through the vestibule, and you mentally snapped yourself back from trying to see what happened.

Your curiosity started to gnaw at you so badly you almost missed the cue to sit down.

Mass ended simply…or rather it deflated. A somewhat awkward shuffle out the door was the end of Mass that day. Murmurs and worries stares at the rectory as everyone filed out and meandered down the hill to Main street.

You glanced over to the rectory, and paused when you saw Bev exit. You moved a little back from the entrance along the side of the church to catch her.

“You’re sure Father Hill is alright?” You asked her as she strode to the back door of the church.

“Just fine. In need of a little more rest we think. Nothing to worry about.” She said a little more brightly than usual. You felt in your gut there was a lie in her words.

“Annie’s making a hearty stew tonight I could stop by and bring him some-“

“No!” She snapped, then softened a little when she saw how startled you were, “No, no he needs to be undisturbed today. Thank you, y/n. Bless you.”

You nodded slowly, and flicked your eyes over to the small building. You could have sworn you saw the curtain move.

“Alright, Bev…take care.” You said. Something was making your nerves itch under your skin. Like an internal fear response that you didn’t usually need.

A cord was plucked inside you.

A voice inside you telling you to leave.

It wasn’t that Bev had snapped at you, or that you felt she was hiding something. It was that St. Patrick’s had always been a place of peace and safety for you, and now you found yourself wanting to be far from it. You feet almost itching to run.

You didn’t run. But you did walk quickly. You wished you had taken your bike that day.

You cast one last look at the rectory. Sturge and Wade still hadn’t come out.

Your feet acted for you, and carried you away from the church. Away from that itch.

Once the general store came into view, you hesitated in going directly to your shop. Since Mass had ended early, you didn’t need to start deliveries yet; instead, you walked into the store, and towards the sheriffs office. You waved at the old man working at the counter- Gerald- and knocked on the officers door.

“Come.” Came his voice.

You opened the door, and sure enough, Hassan was seated at his desk, reading a paper from a file on his desk.

“What can I- oh.” He said, then stopped upon seeing you, “Y/n? Everything alright?” He was suddenly concerned at the prospect of you coming to his office.

Your eyes widened, “Oh- yes fine. Sorry um…I just… I don’t know if you want to…talk about it but…I saw Ali today. At Mass.”

Hassan sighed heavily, “Ah…yeah he…” he didn’t finish his sentence.

“Curious?” You asked.

But the man only sighed again, “I love that my son is interested in God and looking for him…but…” he started.

“But you already have God.” You finished for him.

He nodded, “He’s not praying with me anymore…we fight…he just…I can’t lose him.”

You nodded, “I know…I can keep an eye on him, if you’d like?” You offered a little weakly- you knew there wasn’t much you could do.

“Thank you…I don’t want to discourage him but …he’s not Christian. He knows why we’re Muslim and it’s…” he didn’t know where to start with the issue. “Bev Keene handed out bibles at school last week. Since then…” he look his head, “I think he mostly is interested in it because he wants to fit in.” Hassan sighed and rubbed his brow.

You nodded, “I’m sorry Hassan…this…this must be hard to watch. Doesn’t help that he’s a teenager. Teens are…difficult to reason with.”

He huffed out a bitter laugh, “I only pray that he returns to his faith.”

“God willing, he will.” You didn’t know how to comfort the man, but it seemed that just having someone there helped.

“Inshallah…” he muttered.

You tilted your head in question.

“Means “God willing.”…” he explained.

“Ah…” you said. Silence filled the office, and you clasped your hands. “There’s…have you thought about asking to be stationed somewhere else? Maybe somewhere with other Muslims? He might just be missing that connection…”

“I’ve thought about it…hard to uproot a kid again though.” He crossed his arms.

You wanted to help him. You really wanted to help. This man was alone, and was practically ostracized by the very town he was supposed to protect and serve. You were almost certain you were the closest thing he had to a friend, and you needed to say something.

“You know…I don’t really fully believe Jesus is God.” You blurted out.

He looked up at you then.

You flushed. You hadn’t meant for it to come out like that, “Sorry…I just…just because I go to Mass doesn’t mean I believe everything.”

“Aren’t you Christian?” He asked.

“I…used to be. It’s more of a habit that I go to church. Been going since I was a kid. But…when you first came here that was the first time I heard about Islam…properly. You don’t believe Jesus was god either right?” You asked.

He shook his head.

“He was just another messenger…prophet. I did some reading a while ago and I found that the holy trinity is actually a new thing in Christianity…and I began to wonder what else was “new” or what had been taken out…I guess I’m just trying to say that…Ali might look for God somewhere else but you never know…he might find that the church is flawed and just come right back to you and Allah.” You mused.

Hassan felt tears prick at his eyes. “Thank y/n…thank you.”

You smiled, and nodded, “I’ll um…I’ll leave you to it. Come by later. Lunch is on me.”

“You’re gonna make me fat.” He grumbled

“A little pudge is cute.” You shrugged as you opened the door.

“You’re a bad influence.” He shot back- his walls back up as the door to the outside opened- literally.

“Guess you’ll just have to lock me away, sheriff!” You chirped, and smiled, then closed the door.

But as you turned away and walked back through the shop, that smile faded away.

Everything was changing.

Fast…so fast. Hassan and Ali had been on Crockett for close to a year, and you had never heard Ali mention something about church.

You knew the miracle with Leeza had been drawing many people in, but you could still accept it as a miracle without changing your beliefs.

Did he just want to fit in?

Was he just curious?

Then you remembered how you had felt that morning as you waited for Father Hill. That feeling of trepidation that seeded in your navel and seared into your fingertips.

When you unlocked the door to your shop, you wondered if it was because there was nothing to distract you as you sat in the church. Everyday there was something to keep you busy- the doddering Monsignor or now the invigorating Father. Something to guide you. But once you were left with your thoughts…you started to think a little too much.

Now you weren’t stupid- far from it. You thought a lot. Constantly. But there was something pressing about sitting in that church. You almost felt like you had woken up when you had stood outside the rectory.

Nervous.

Yes you had felt…so nervous as Bev stood there with you.

You wondered if that was how lambs felt before they were taken for slaughter.

Oh what a gruesome thought…pull yourself together.

You were spiralling into the morbid.

Tomorrow would be better.

You focused on that. Yes. Yes tomorrow would be better.

GOOD FRIDAY MASS AT 8PM

E4STER VIGIL SUN MIDNIG-

You watched as Sturge finished with the H and T.

That chord in you struck again. You twitched. The dread in your stomach rolling around like a marble on a metal track.

Leeza stood beside you, confused as ever, “Wait…you're saying every night? No morning Masses at all?” She asked.

Sturge sighed, “Time being.”

Your brows scrunched up, but you schooled your expression when Leeza looked over at you. No need to let her see your worry.

“Father Paul probably just needs another morning or two to recover from that head cold- but he’ll be up and about tonight. Isn’t that right Sturge?” Wade tried to reassure the crowd as a good mayor should, but you knew Wade. And you knew something wasn’t right.

“Yessir, spoke with him myself this morning’…feeling’ much better.” Sturge agreed.

You looked over at the weathered man, and noted that he was off too.

Rehearsed.

You made Sturge a birthday cake every year and the extent of his appreciation was a “Thanks.” Sturge was never a man of many words, and defiantly wouldn’t over explain something.

Wade nodded now, “Dolly spoke to him too and he had a few things to say about Good Friday isn’t that right, honey?” He asked his wife.

You turned to the woman in question, and saw that she was looking somewhere else.

“Dolly?” You heard Wade say, but he trailed off

You saw what she was looking at, and you understood why. You had seen Mildred Gunning now a few times on your deliveries to her house, but seeing her up and walking outside made you stop short. Certainly you had noticed how she was practically aging backwards, but you had only assumed Sarah was trying a new treatment for her.

But this. The walk across the island was a half hour on a good day. And there she was in her Sunday best.

The crowd of islanders began murmuring amongst themselves, and began embracing the older woman. You held back just a little, though your practiced smile was on your face. Your eyes found Sarah beside her, and somehow you weren’t sure if you found solace or anxiety in what you saw there.

She had the same look on her face that you were hiding on yours under your smile.

It wasn’t grim, but it wasn’t joyous.

You slowly began back into town. You missed Mass. You missed that energy that the good Father Hill brought to the church. You missed-

You shook yourself.

Stop it.

What’s wrong with you?

Suddenly, that perfect little routine you had made for yourself for years…was crumbling. You no longer felt the peace you once did, and now it seemed you had to flip the routine completely.

Nightly Mass.

You pursed your lips.

“Have a minute?”

You turned and saw the Sheriff coming towards you as you unlocked your door.

You nodded and grinned softly, “Morning, sure thing.”

The two of you entered the little store and you closed it behind you.

“Everything okay?” You asked when Hassan stood quietly.

“You know that kid, Bowl?” He asked.

You blinked, “Sure I do. Bit of a troubled kid.”

Hassan nodded, “You seen him lately?”

You frowned, “Can’t say I have.”

“Alright…worth a shot. You’re the youngest one here aside from the kids so…just wanted to ask.” He sighed.

“I’m sorry…” you wrung your hands, “Have um…have you seen Joe lately?” You asked, suddenly remembering the quietness in the sheriffs office and lack of grumbled greetings.

At that the sheriff hung his head a little, “No…no but I need to speak to him…I’ll let you know if I find him.”

You took a breath in and held it a little to try and calm yourself, “Alright.”

“I’ll see you later, y/n. Don’t work too hard.” He murmured, as he opened the door.

“You too, Hassan.” You said a little absentmindedly.

He left you to your thoughts. With Mass cancelled again, you had far too much time to kill before you really needed to start deliveries.

You sat on your little stool behind the counter, and found a book Father Hill had lent you almost a week ago under your receipt box.

The Divine Comedy: Dante’s inferno.

You began to read. Too afraid to let your thoughts run rampant again.

Nightime wasn’t much better. You felt something pulling in you to go and visit the rectory. No one outside of the Scarboroughs, Sturge and Bev had seen the Father, and there was that nagging feeling in you that you needed to see if he was alright. Why couldn’t he just come out to tell everyone he was on the mend? What was there all this dancing around?

You stood on your porch, cardigan pulled tight around you as you fought with yourself internally.

Then, just as you went to take a step, a gust of wind pushed you back. You felt that anxiety strum within you once again. Your gut cried to you to not go, and with blood running cold, you went inside and shut the door.

You closed your curtains that night, and prayed to any God that would listen. You didn’t know why fear had rooted itself so deep within your heart, and somehow that frightened you more.

You were afraid.

So afraid.

Good Friday. You put on that dress your mom had gotten you last year for Christmas- she said it brought out your eyes. You grabbed a warm sweater, and socks, and left for Mass.

It was strange walking across the island as the sun set. You strode calmly, pushing that nagging feeling that sat in the back of your throat away.

“Y/n!”

You turned and saw Sarah and Mildred walking behind you not too far. You smiled, “Hello you two!” You chirped. You might have been suffering from an internal turmoil but you weren’t about to let them know.

“Sarah, Mrs.Gunning. Happy to see you both coming tonight.” You smiled and fell into step with them.

Mildred nodded, “It’s been years…” she mused, then stopped and held your arm, “You’ve been so good to us over the years, dear…Sarah’s been telling me and…I wanted to thank you.”

You waved her off and smiled, “Oh it was nothing. Happy to make your lives easier.”

“You have…really. Thank you.” Sarah nodded, a tight smile on her lips.

“You’re a good girl, y/n.” Mildred smiled gently.

You returned it, “Come on…hopefully Father Hill is well enough to preach today.”

The three of you walked the rest of the way, and you noticed how many times Mildred was stared at. She smiled and nodded when people looked, breaking any tension. Then as you walked up to the church, you saw Bev standing to greet the parishioners.

You smiled at her, though she looked straight past you to greet Mildred. You nodded to Sarah, and left them there to talk.

You took your seat, and not long after, the Gunnings took theirs directly in front of you. You wondered if that was where Mildred used to sit before she grew too ill.

Several more minutes passed, until you heard that low voice of the good father from the door of the church to begin service, “All rise for our processional hymn- number 139 in the red hymnal: At the cross , at the cross.”

You rose to your feet, and began to sing, but you couldn’t help but feel relieved that Father Hill was alright. It had been days since only a couple people saw him, and while you would never assume any deception from your elders…the secrecy seemed so strange.

“They took the body of Jesus, and bound it with the burial cloths along with the spices, according to the Jewish burial custom.” Dolly stood on the pulpit, reading from her bible. The church was full around you, and you found yourself slowly feeling at ease. You felt so silly for having been distressed.

“Now in the place where he had been crucified, there was a garden, and in the garden, a new tomb in which no one had yet been buried. So, they laid Jesus there because of the Jewish preparation day. For the tomb was close by. The Gospel of the Lord.” She finished.

“Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.” You and the other churchgoers answered.

Then as soon as Dolly stepped down, you found your eyes locked onto Father Hill as he took his place. You took a moment to take him in after it being a few days of not seeing him. Indeed he did look well- skin no longer waxy and pale. There was something else to his presence though, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It almost felt like…home. What you came for. What you took comfort in.

That thought startled you.

“Good Friday. This is one of my favorite days of the year. The passion of our Lord. Just that word, “passion.” The word “passion,” it means a strong and barely controllable emotion. Barely controllable. That’s what Jesus felt when he gave his life for us, so that we might have life eternal. What a gift, told so beautifully in the Gospel of John. “Gospel” means good news! Good news on Good Friday. And yet, it’s a story of such profound suffering. What’s so good about that?” He paused to take in the filled church. You could see the pride he felt having brought the community together. You smiled a little.

“Jesus’s suffering in this story, it isn’t simply necessary. It is good. It is the price of eternal life. That suffering, he endures alone. At the Resurrection, he is alone. And then… Well… Ah, he has a few allies. And then more. A congregation. And then more and more people spread that good news. Tell that good story. And then, God has an army. What do they say in that commercial? Uh, “Be all that you can be.” Well, I mean no offense to the armed services, which are necessary and of course honorable, but that’s not all that you can be. In the Army, you’re fighting for God and country.”

You heard a few people murmur amongst you; admiration shining in their eyes as they listens to their preacher.

“Now, I am going to offend you now, but it is the truth. God does not want you to fight for this country. The arrogance… of that. God has no country. There is one God for the world. And the lines we draw, and the treaties we draft, and the borders we close mean nothing to Him. No, don’t fight for a country. You fight for God’s kingdom. A kingdom which Jesus tells us has no flags or borders. God’s army.”

You felt your throat tighten and your nose prickle.

“Now make no mistake. It is a war. That’s what an army is for.So, as a congregation, as God’s army, how do we know how the fight is going? We can’t see it. We can’t radio HQ for a status report. All we have, all God gives us, is right here.” He pointed to his chest, “How we feel. That moral compass inside each one of us pointing due north to the Holy Spirit. Conscience. In the army of God, conscience is standard issue. There are many like it, but this one is mine. You may think that that’s a line from a war movie, but it isn’t. That’s actually the Rifleman’s Creed. And a creed is, by definition, not just a belief, but it is a religious one. ” You could feel yourself hang onto each word. Rapt.

“So, it is a war, and there will be casualties. And we must be soldiers. That is what Good Friday is about. God will ask horrible things of you. Horrible. Just look at what He asked of His own son. Just look at what Jesus had to endure today. We had to call it the “New Covenant,” because God’s will, while perfect, changes.God’s will dictates morality, and as God’s will changes, so does morality change. It changed with the New Covenant. It changed when Jesus came, and we must, as his army, shed the Old Covenant and listen only to that. You rely on that compass. Good Friday is only good. The Gospel of the Lord, so full of horror, is only good, because of where it is headed. The Resurrection. Today is only good because of what’s coming Easter, this Sunday. When Jesus is risen, and death itself is lain dead. What is otherwise horrible is good because of where it’s headed. Welcome to God’s army. Yeah, we’re gonna do great things.”

Your blood rushed in your ears as Father Hill finished.

You somehow felt refreshed…full. You supposed you needed that sense of belonging amongst the other islanders. But when you went to converse with the Gunnings, you were surprised to see them already shuffling out towards the door as soon as Sturge had opened them. You wondered if perhaps it was all too tiring for Mildred and they needed to get home soon.

You sighed, and stood to find Annie. She was there with Ed, but they seemed off too. “Hi Annie, Ed…any plans for Easter?” You asked as you joined them in the thinning crowd.

But then you saw the anxiety in the older woman’s eyes. You knew instantly that something was very wrong. “Annie?” You asked, putting a hand on her arm.

“Oh it…it’s nothing. You know me.” She waved it off, “We uh were thinking of having a nice family dinner. You’re welcome to come of course.” She forced a smile.

You waited patiently with a gentle nod until she told you what was going on. She always did.

“Riley…he- we haven’t seen him all day.” She finally said.

Your brows pitched in worry, “Oh I’m- I’m sorry…maybe he’s with Erin? They’re close right?” You asked, trying to keep their spirits up.

“Probably. Like I said it’s nothing.” She reassured you again, “Anyways, isn’t that the dress your mom got you? What was it…your birthday last year?” She changed the subject, and you let her.

“Christmas.” You smiled, “Thought I’d pull it out of the closet.”

“You look lovely. See you tomorrow?” She asked, already moving out and down the aisle with the remaining parishioners and pulling Ed with her.

“Most likely! You know me…always around.” You nodded, following after them.

“Take care now!” She called back, and her husband gave you a small wave before they disappeared down the stairs and onto the road.

Now left to your solitude, you felt butterflies take wing in your stomach. You sucked in a breath, and began down the stairs after saying goodbye to another few islanders you knew speaking to Bev. You stepped outside, head a little in the clouds when you nearly jumped.

“There she is. How are you, my dear girl?” Father Hill stood at the bottom of the stairs wishing each of his flock goodbye.

You looked up at him as you came to stand beside him. But he wasn’t as vibrant as he usually was. You noticed a certain darkness in his eyes…

Of course he looks like that he’s been sick for days

You mentally throttled yourself.

“I’m well, thank you Father. You seem better.” You smiled a little, though perhaps not as wide as usual.

He noticed.

“Yes…yes much, thank you. Everyone has been so accommodating with me…so helpful. Good people.” He mused.

You nodded, “They are.”

John could almost feel your pulse in his head as you gazed up at him- so docile. The light from St. Patrick’s spilled over you and lit you like a holy revelation. He could smell your skin from his place a few feet away…could tell that you washed your hair not too long ago. But despite the loveliness of having you so close, John knew something in you was shifting.

You were more…anxious. Looking for justification to trust.

Skittish but still coming to his presence so diligently.

Like you didn’t even know what you were afraid of.

No need to fear sweet lamb…I am with you…

You started to shift away from him then, but it almost seemed like he didn’t quite want you to go. His gaze still locked onto you. “I trust I’ll see you on Sunday?”

You laughed a little, “No, no I think I’ll skip it.”

His face seemed to fall for a moment, but when you didn’t stop smiling it clicked that you were joking. “Oh- yes…you’re kidding.” He smiled with you, “Please do come. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” Father Paul added earnestly.

You felt that tug in your chest just like when you had gone to the rectory to speak with him weeks ago.

You felt seen.

Appreciated.

“Well I…I’ll be there, Father. Rest.” You said, backing away, “Have a blessed night!”

John took a slow step toward you, but no more than that. He knew not to press his luck with your trust. Didn’t want to scare you off.

“And you, y/n.” He waved to you.

You turned and began your walk. But just as you had felt at home when Mass had begun, you felt a little empty as you walked away. You felt that tug grow more insistent the further you went; so much so that you turned before descending the hill to look back.

Father Hill was in discussion with Wade, but once you stood still, his head snapped to you.

You startled a little.

But it wasn’t so much the fact that he noticed you.

It was the strangest thing…you could have sworn you saw the light of the church catch his eyes and make them glint in the dark.

It happened so fast that you told yourself you just needed your day off. You were just tired.

You needed some sleep.

That was why you felt the contentment you had just been floating on start to drain away. That was why you felt so at ease when the Father spoke to you. Just tired.

You had no way of knowing then that it was the little bit of tainted blood in your system that was calling out to its patron. That it was humming around the others who shared the gift too…communicating internally with one another- somehow knowing that you’re like them.

By the time you were home, you felt as if the weight of the world was yours to uphold. Worry began to consume you as your thoughts swirled in the silence.

Riley was missing.

Joe was missing.

Pike was dead.

Bowl was missing.

You stopped brushing your hair for a moment. You hadn’t thought of the strange happenings like that before. Indeed there was quite a few. You had lived on Crockett your whole life you knew that the maximum a person could go missing for was a day and that was pushing it.

How long had Joe been missing…?

Your gut began to twist again, and you almost fell to your knees when you knelt to pray.

You didn’t know what was happening to you. To your home.

Fear began to encircle your heart, and you almost considered running back to the church to sleep on a pew.

You felt alone.

For the first time in a long time, you felt so very alone.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@littleredwritingcat @zaunite-leo @f4er1e-g1rl @purplemotif @vampyre-kin @professional-sinner @hamishlinklaters @spacechupss @pansexualpamandabear @ebiemidnightlibrarian @erialuna @nilla-bear

#midnight mass #hamish linklater #father paul hill #father john pruitt x reader #father john pruitt #forgive me father for i have sinned #father paul hill x reader #flanaverse #midnight mass fanfiction

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macravishedbymactavish · 2 years ago

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Hugging Headcanons (TF141 + König x GN!Reader)

Turns out, I'm better at full paragraph writing then headcanons, but we do our best in this house.

TW: Light swearing (like 2-3 words at most), little bit of cheeky adult(ish. Major ISH) behaviour, and mentions of anxiety/overthinking

Soap:

If he had it his way, he'd be hugging you constantly. Loves (and I mean LOVES) physical contact and just being close to you in general.

He is also very vocal about this. From the beginning of your relationship he's made it known that he L I V E S for physical contact.

His favourite way to hug you is from behind, especially when you're not expecting it. The little jump then relaxing when you realize it's him brings him so much joy.

100% content with holding you from behind like this, chin resting on your shoulder as you do things.

Cooking? He'll be there, likely stealing some of the food before it's served (and laughing when he gets smacked with the spoon).

Paperwork? He'll try to hold you with one arm and write with the other, until Ghost or Price gives him shit because you're both now working at half your normal pace.

Anywhere, anytime. He's going to try to hug you.

If at any point you stop and think: "does Soap want a hug" the answer is yes. Always yes.

Soap always wants a hug, please hug him.

Ghost:

Would either be 100% hesitant and unsure of what he's doing, or 100% confident and assertive. No inbetween for this.

I feel he doesn't dislike physical contact (quite the opposite actually), but rather just hasn't had any physical or emotional connections in quite a while. So long in fact that he's grown fine without it. Until you came around.

Like context pre-hug aside, he probably did the cliche "tense right up then relax once he realizes he's safe" the first time you hugged him. Now he's hooked on the warmth of your body, the way you feel pressed into him, and how automatically relaxed he gets while being hugged.

Since he strikes me as someone who isn't huge on PDA (he's a rather private person) as much as he wants to hold you 24/7, he reserves this for moments when it's just the two of you.

The exception to the rule being stressful missions or any time when he was concerned for your wellbeing. He will gladly hold you close to remind himself that you're okay. No matter where you are, just a reminder that you're still here. You're still his. He pays no mind to anyone else in that moment outside of you and him.

He would NOT be open to questions or explanations the first time this happens, especially if it's in front of the guys. Yes, he's proud of you. Yes he's happy your his. No, they don't need to know every detail of your relationship.

Price:

I can see him being the "little bit obnoxious but a lot of love bear hug" type. Like you can't breathe but that's okay, he loves you a lot.

Much like Ghost - not huge on PDA. Partially because he likes to keep his personal life and work life seperate. But also a professional thing.

He leads a team, he has to keep up appearances. He also doesn't feel like dealing with his sergeants teasing the life out of him for being a softie.

He's also not a teenager anymore, his "I need to touch you at every minute of every hour" days are over. He's perfectly content holding you when appropriate/when he can.

He tries his best to balance work and home. Hugs and loving talks before bed are a MUST in this household. Of course you'll cuddle up in bed, but he makes a point to love up on you a bit more while you're both awake and can remember it.

Like everyone on this list: long hugs before he's deployed and when he first comes home. But I feel like his are more worth mentioning? He's been in the military either the entire time or majority of the time you've been with him. So because of that, you've sacrificed so much for this relationship so he could pursue his career/what feels right. The least he can do is set aside time for just you, to let you feel even a whisper of closure before he goes/when he returns.

I just imagine in the kitchen, tight hug. Ready to say goodbye, as he whispers stuff to you. Like whether it be bits of your vows, quotes he knows you live by, or just how much he adores you for everything. He would make an absolute point to give you another piece of his soul to treasure before he leaves (we can get into this more later if wanted)

Gaz

Another very playful soul. Not outward on PDA, but won't give up a chance to hug you quick or keep a hand on the small of your back.

You rank pretty high on the better things he has in life (if not on top), of course he's going to show you off. He landed a partner who is gorgeous inside and out.

As shown in game, he is a cheeky mf. So expect this to translate into the physical contact.

Mid-hug he may grab a handful of your ass, or start peppering kisses to your neck if hugging you from behind - then pretend like nothing happened (obviously in private. Time and place for everything folks).

I can see him being big on having his arm around your shoulders quite often. Like in resuraunts, resting his arm on the back of your chair, or doing the same while sitting on the couch with you. Just casual contact, a small flex of "they're mine, crazy right?"

Expect to be pulled into a tight hug, then dipped during your first kiss at your wedding. A little bit of flair and spice on your big day. Especially considering he got so flustered after your second or third date, that instead of going in for a goodbye/goodnight kiss he chickened out and opted to hug you close instead.

You melted when he told you that one night, when recounting the many stories and memories from your relationship.

So hugs, needless to say are pretty symbolic in your relationship

König

(Side note: I live and breathe the fact that his social anxiety is canon. I've never related to a character faster)

As anyone with social anxiety knows: it's not about whether you like physical contact or not -- it's normally the overthinking about "Do I initiate? Do I not? Do I pull away first? Am I hugging them for too long? Is this weird?"

He's very sweet overall, but quite awkward and overthinks hugging you initially. But wishes so much that you'd hug him over and over again.

He almost melts the first time you do, but is another "cliche freezes then relaxes" because he's so nervous. He really enjoys your company, he doesn't want to mess this up. He wants this to feel as nice and loving for you as it does for him.

Needless to say, it takes a little while and a lot of reassurance for him to get comfortable hugging you first. But when this day comes, oh boy watch out.

He will hug you at any opportunity. From behind hugs, side hugs, bear hugs, quick hugs, hugs where you do that little sway thing, hugs where you lightly rub the other persons back. He loves them all equally.

He especially loves hugs where you rest your face against his chest, and relax into him. Letting all the stress from your day fade for even a moment (because that's how he has always felt when you hugged him)

He found it both comical and endearing when you dragged a chair from across the room to in front of him to stand on so you could either (depending on your height and the chair)

1) Press your face into his neck without him having to bend right down

2). Let him rest his head against your chest and relax.

Not that he'd ever admit it out loud, but that's the memory he finds himself thinking back to when he can't sleep during a long deployment. Or when he needs a quick pick-me-up after a long day.

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja

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ace-touya · 1 year ago

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Class 1-A PowerPoint Night

A PowerPoint night is when a friend group all make PowerPoints on random topics and present them to each other in case anyone doesn’t know. This is what I think all of class 1-A would do.

Yuga Aoyama makes a PowerPoint explaining french slang terms that he thinks the entire class should start using

Mina Ashido makes a PowerPoint rating everyone’s families. Points are awarded based on presence of both parents, how well each student gets on with their parents, whether they have siblings (younger siblings get less points than older ones) and how much she personally likes their family members.

Tenya Iida makes a PowerPoint on how to revise for their upcoming exam, complete with diagrams and information about the psychology of learning. The class feel like they’re in a lecture.

Tsuyu Asui makes a PowerPoint where she turns things the class has said into Pinterest-style inspirational quotes and they have to try and guess who said what.

Ochaco Uraraka makes a PowerPoint on tips to save money, because you cant tell me some of the people in this class buy useless things they either lose, forget about, or have no idea what to do with.

Mashirao Ojiro makes a PowerPoint of things he does not understand. It features things such as the existence of languages, barcodes, and credit cards.

Denki Kaminari makes a PowerPoint called ‘Crying Wrapped’, which details the reasons he has cried over the least year, which months he cried the most and the least in, and rates his top 5 cries with little explanation

Eijiro Kirishima makes a PowerPoint called ‘things I’ve seen at the gym that just make sense’. Some of them have pictures to go along with them, and Ochaco and Katsuki nod along and say ‘I remember that’ to every other slide.

Koji Koda made a PowerPoint on why Aizawa should let them have a class pet. The PowerPoint actually had good reasoning so they emailed it to Aizawa, who only responded ‘no.’ And did not elaborate.

Rikido Sato makes a PowerPoint assigning each classmate a type of cake. He lists the reasons, the ingredients, and has a nice message for each member of the class on the slide with their cake

Mezo Shoji makes a PowerPoint about how Tokoyami is Not Real. Enough said.

Kyouka Jiro makes a PowerPoint detailing the soundtrack she would put together if their life was a movie, complete with photos and video clips of stuff they’ve done to go along with each moment she assigns a song to.

Hanta Sero makes a PowerPoint called ‘Canada is not real’, and it lists all the reasons why he believes Canada is made up. Shoto is nodding along and finds it very thought-provoking

Fumikage Tokoyami makes a PowerPoint analysing everyone’s entire zodiac charts. Kirishima is shocked to find out there’s more than just the sun sign. They also give everyone their horoscopes for the next month.

Shoto Todoroki makes a PowerPoint on conspiracy theories that he actually believes. They’re all completely insane but he does end up convincing some members of the class by the end.

Toru Hagakure makes a PowerPoint on Disney Men and whether or not she would trust them with her drink with little to no explanation. All the girls agree with her ratings.

Katsuki Bakugo makes a PowerPoint rating each of the barbie movies based on whether or not he could beat the protagonist in a fight. The class is shocked to find out that Katsuki does believe he would lose to some of the barbies.

Izuku Midoryia makes a PowerPoint analysing the class’s fighting techniques and their strengths and weaknesses as heroes, using all the notes he’s written about each of them in his notebooks. Additionally, he assigns everyone in the class a current pro hero that they’re most similar to.

Minoru Mineta makes a PowerPoint rating the girls in every class of their year group and is not allowed to present it.

Momo Yaoyorozu makes a PowerPoint assigning each classmate a different kind of tea, complete with the benefits of each flavour and why she would give it to them. She also includes the prices and the best places to buy them.

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multi-fandom-imagines8 · 6 months ago

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A song of Ice & Shadow

Part 2

A song of Ice & Shadow masterlist

Summary: To Y/n's dismay, the Illyrians keep coming to their home, and despite her initial reluctance to engage in war talks, she becomes entangled in the political world of the fae. This ends with her worst nightmare becoming a reality.

Word count: 2.9K

Y/n paced around the living room, holding a scientific book amidst a clutter of research papers scattered about. Deeply immersed in her work, she was oblivious to the initial knocks at the door. Eventually, the persistent knocking caught her attention, prompting her to reluctantly abandon her studies.Upon opening the door, however, she found no one present “Are you kidding me?” she exhaled, as she went back to the living room. Just as she got back to reading, Cassian’s voice interrupted her concentration “Hello, y/n. Nice to see you again”.

“For fuck’s sake” she instinctively threw the book in his direction, a reflex action to the sudden intrusion, which he effortlessly evaded. Cassian’s amusement at the gesture was evident as he remarked “A book, really?”.

“Well, when someone is startled by an unexpected visitor, instinct tends to take over” she retorted, her tone a mixture of irritation and explanation.

“I did knock” he reminded, to which she replied “and I did open the door”.

“Wait, you didn’t know I was cloaked?”.

“How would I know? Do I look like some fae expert to you?”.

“Clearly not”.

“Do you enjoy pissing people off?” she asked with a serious tone.

“Sometimes” he replied, his tone tinged with smugness.

“Get a new hobby. People have more important things to do”.

“We’re trying to save everyone, so I’d say that is important”.

“Whatever! I’m not dealing with you. Talk to Nesta. Do you know where her room is or do I have to guide you?”.

“I’ll do just fine on my own”.

“Great, then off you go” she pushed him out of the living room and closed the door.

—

“You wouldn’t believe who I just met at the Bakery, Nes-” Y/n began speaking as she entered the house, unaware of the company they had. Her smile faded when she noticed the two Illyrian males, replaced by a cold, stern expression.“to what do we owe this displeasure?” she inquired, crossing her arms.

Cassian's response mirrored her sentiment, expressing his own reluctance to be there. Before any further exchange could unfold, Azriel interjected with a low, cold voice, revealing the reason for their visit “We received word from the queens”.

“They’ve been sent here to gather information about the house for the queens. They want to know where everything is, in the smallest details” Nesta explained.

Y/n directed her question at her sister “And you believe providing all this information is a good idea?”.

Azriel interjected, 'It's the only way to secure their cooperation”, Nesta nodded.

Y/n stole a glance at the male before returning her gaze on her sister “you do know this puts us in real danger?”.

"Nothing will happen to you or your sisters. Cassian and I will keep watch on the house”.

Despite assurances from Azriel about their safety, Y/n remained unconvinced, her concern evident in her demeanor. Y/n seemed to want to say something but decided against it. As she turned to leave, she was halted by Azriel's words “Feyre expects you to be here tomorrow”. After a brief pause, Y/n tilted her head to the side “Tell her to lower her expectations” she replied before walking out.

—

“Perhaps you should attend, even if just for a little while” Nesta suggested.

“Why? Are two sisters not enough? I don’t wish to be involved in human-fae relations” Y/n clarified.

“I know. I hate this as much as you do, but Feyre is now one of them, so do it for her” Nesta urged.

“Not out of her own free will…I- I don’t know, I’ll think about it” she sighed.

“Not to pressure you or anything but you do know, they’ll be here in a couple of hours” Nesta reminded.

“I know” she shrugged.

“Where is she? They’re gonna be here any minute now” Feyre scanned the room anxiously, looking for Y/n.

“I don’t know. She said she’ll think about it” Nesta told her.

“Think about it? She does realize that this is important, not one of her games” Feyre’s frustration became evident.

“Do you want me to send Az or Cassian to fetch her?” Rhys offered.

“No, that would only make things worse” Feyre dismissed the suggestion.

Dressed in a midnight blue tulle gown that revealed her back and arms, her skin so pale one would think she’s frozen. The fabric flowed around her body like a cloud, complementing her features. She emanated an aura of grace and elegance that would captivate any male who laid eyes on her. Y/n walked into the room, head held high. Her presence seemed to illuminate the room, and much to Azriel’s dismay, his eyes were drawn to her. Something stirred inside of him, something unfamiliar; even his shadows peaked from behind him to study her. He was betrayed by a momentary lapse in composure before pushing his thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand.

“She’d fit right in at the Night Court” Rhys whispered to Feyre.

“Is that why it took you so long?” Feyre asked her sister.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Y/n tried to hide her smile.

Just as Cassian was about to comment, the queens appeared.

Rhys and Feyre started the conversation with the queens, introducing everyone present in the room. Elain curtseyed, while Nesta and Y/n stayed straight-backed with their heads high. They wasted no time and got to the reason why they were there; to discuss the war looming on their doorstep. -”This territory is a slip of land compared to the vastness of the continent. It is not in our interests to defend it. It would be a waste of resources” one of the queens said, to which Rhys replied “surely the loss of even one innocent life would be abhorrent”.

“Yes. to lose one life is always a horror. But war is war. If we must sacrifice this tiny territory to save the majority, then we shall do it”.

“And here I thought fae kind was the worst. It seems there’s even worse. You’re shameless. As queens, you have a responsibility towards your people. You’re supposed to protect them, all of them. The war hasn’t even started and you’re already doing a bad job of it” Y/n blurted.

“Excuse me?” the queen was taken aback, but so was everyone sitting there.

“Y/n!” Feyre warned.

“What? Is it not your duty to defend your people?” Y/n didn’t back down.

“What my sister is trying to say is that there are good people here” Feyre spoke, before things escalated.

The queens suggested that the fae defend this little territory, but there were counter arguments to that, until the queens mentioned that it was their job since the threat is caused by their own kind and their blood should be the one to spill, to which Y/n didn’t disagree. But then the queens continued to be insensitive, stubborn, selfish creatures, refusing to listen to reason. This made Y/n feel rage; knowing her temper, she excused herself before she screwed up whatever chance of peace they had. “Where do you think you are going?” one of the queens asked.

“Away from here. I am afraid if I stayed, I’d hurt your ego and you’d leave without considering peace, so I am removing myself, respectfully” she bowed mockingly, and a soft smile graced Azriel’s face.

—

Satisfied with the research she had done, Y/n was able to take a day to relax when a knock interrupted her solitude. She waited a few minutes before reaching the door, silently hoping that someone else would answer it for once “You’d think with many people living in this house, someone else would get the door for once” she sighed as she opened the door, only to find no one there “Ah, I suppose you’re glamoured again. The servants are here today and Nesta isn’t, so unfortunately, we have to go to a more private place. Follow me” she muttered to herself, pausing briefly before shutting the door and retreating upstairs to her room, closing the door behind her “what can I help with today, general?” she turned around to face Cassian, whom by now his cloaking would’ve vanished, but she was met with the other illyrian. Taken aback, she took a step back “you’re not the general”.

“No, I’m not. Nice to see you again” Azriel hid a chuckle.

“I’m sure” Y/n managed to force a polite smile, unaware she was holding her breath.

Noticing her sudden reaction at the sight of him, Azriel inquired “Are you alright?”.

“I’m fine. So, what can I do for you?” She wasted no time asking, not wanting to be distracted by those beautiful hazel eyes.

“I’m here to check if you’ve received a response from the queens”.

“Aren’t you the court’s spymaster? Wouldn’t you know if we had received a letter?” Y/n questioned.

“My spies are positioned in courts, not among mere humans. Besides, I didn’t think you’d appreciate being spied upon. But, I do have other methods to obtain information”.

“Like torture?” she crossed her arms.

“That too”.

“Are you threatening me?” she took a step towards him, but he stood his ground.

“I don’t know how you came to that conclusion. I simply answered your question. Violence is not always the solution” he replied, frustration evident in his tone.

“But it’s often the most effective, wouldn’t you agree?” she smirked, meeting his gaze as his shadows appeared behind her.

“It depends” he held her gaze. For a moment they stood in silence before she finally spoke “to answer your question, no, they did not send word back. I suppose that concludes our meeting”.

“Are you kicking me out” he snorted.

“No, I’m simply stating the fact that you’ve gotten what you came here for, hence, there’s nothing left for you here anymore, or am I mistaken?” she shrugged.

He contemplated for a moment “no, you are absolutely right. I’ll be on my way. Have a nice day” he said, striding towards the window.

“What-? You’re leaving through the window?” she was taken by surprise.

“I have wings, it’s faster” he explained.

“Right, then. Goodbye” she muttered to herself as he left, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding “What the hell was that?” she thought to herself.

The next time they came to meet with the queens, Azriel surveyed the house, but Y/n was nowhere to be seen “your sister won’t be joining us?” he asked Elain.

“No, she went to her other home. Something happened at work” Elain replied.

“And even if she were here, she wouldn’t want to see those self-absorbed queens” Nesta added.

“Oh, I see” Azriel nodded, unsure if he was disappointed or relieved she wasn’t there.

The meeting did not go as well as they had hoped, but it was not a complete disaster either. Rhys offered Nesta and Elain to come live with them in Velaris, but Elain refused, as she was engaged to a fae-hating prick. So, Rhys sent his soldiers to look after them, with one waiting in the room they frequented everyday at noon and midnight in case they changed their minds.

—

Elain and Azriel were talking, when Y/n entered the living room. By now, she had grown somewhat accustomed to the presence of fae in their house, but she still resented it, especially now with fae soldiers guarding them. When Y/n returned, Nesta informed her of everything that happened while she was gone, which naturally annoyed her.

“You’re back” that was her way of greeting Azriel.

“I could say the same to you” he replied, and she narrowed her eyes in confusion. Noticing her expression, Azriel proceeded “you were missed at the meeting with the queens”.

“I doubt ‘missed’ is the word anyone would use, but I’m actually glad I wasn’t there. I don’t think I would’ve been able to hold back. Why are you here, spymaster?” she asked, swallowing hard.

“Y/n” Elain interjected at her sister’s ‘rudeness’.

“Same reason as last time” he answered.

“Did you not get the information yet?” Y/n avoided meeting his eyes.

“I did-”.

“We were having a civil conversation. You should try it some time” Elain muttered.

“No, thank you. I think I’ll stick to my ‘uncivil’ ways” Y/n said, ignoring Azriel once again as she walked out of the room.

“Forgive my sister. She can be rude sometimes, not that she notices often. But she has a kind heart, I promise” Elain tried to defend her sister’s actions.

“Don’t worry about it” he gave Elain a soft smile.

—

The next time Y/n was in the same room as Azriel was when they were face to face with the king of Hybern. She and her sisters were dragged and forced to kneel before the king. Nesta and Elain were in their nightgowns, while Y/n was in a teal dress. Her clothes were torn and covered in blood. Bruises painted her skin in shades of blue and purple, her lips swollen and cut, which oozed blood, same with the cut on her forehead. Her hair tousled, strands escaping from a once-neat bun. Despite her injuries, she stood tall, her posture defiant and unyielding, with a determined glint in her eyes; her spirit remained unbroken. She did not let them take her or her sisters without a fight, one where she fought with all her might until she couldn’t anymore.

Seeing Feyre and her companions, blood drained from Azriel’s face as he bled all over the floor, with an arrow penetrating his chest, her heart ached and she knew the worst was yet to come. They had failed. Feyre gave her an apologetic look, Rhys held Feyre’s hand in a comforting effort, while Cassian’s eyes were on Nesta and Azriel trying but failing to lift his head as Mor held him. Y/n noticed two other males present, from their physical description, she speculated who they were; the one who held Feyre captive and his friend; Tamlin and Lucien.

Feyre threatened the king, but he warned her to be careful, as he held her sisters’ lives in his hands. He was discussing what he’d do to the sisters with the mortal queens, Feyre and the others tried fighting him but his power was too strong, and with the cauldron he was undefeatable. They had all exhausted their powers and if they tried one more thing, Azriel was going to die, with all that poison coursing through his veins.

As Elain was dragged towards the cauldron, Y/n broke loose from the men that held her, quickly grabbing the sword from one of their sides, lunging it at the one holding Elain, who fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Before Y/n could reach her sister, the king struck her with his powers, sending her flying across the room “Ah, we have a spirited one here. Throw this one in last.. I want her to watch it all” the king gave his orders.

That blow broke some of Y/n’s bones, but even as she winced in pain she managed to sit up. “NO-” but it was too late, he had given the orders and Elain was thrown into the cauldron, her screams echoing in the room. Then there was silence, and never has Y/n hated silence as she did that moment. She wished for any sound, any cry, scream from her sister, but nothing, she was met with nothing but complete silence. A moment later, Elain was dumped out of the cauldron, alive. She was alive, but her ears, her ears were different, they were pointed, she was fae now.

A tear slipped down Y/n’s face as Nesta was about to be thrown in, knowing there was nothing she or anyone could do about it. Nesta fought all the way, until her head was shoved underwater. Silence fell again, before the cauldron spat her out. Like Elain, she had changed, but unlike Elain, she was full of rage. She walked over to Elain and pushed Lucien away, holding her as he claimed she was his mate.

“Bring the spirited one, let’s see if she’ll survive… My money is on you” he told Y/n.

“I will kill you, I promise you that” she threatened while being dragged. She tried fighting the men off, but with many of her bones broken, there was only so much she could do. Stil,l she did not make it easy for them to shove her in. The cauldron bubbled but went still after a moment. Nothing could be seen or heard. A worried look took over Feyre’s face.

“I guess she wasn’t strong-willed after all” the king stated. Just seconds later, Y/n emerged from the water and grabbed the edge as she climbed out of the cauldron. She fell to her knees from all the pain and glared at the king.

Suddenly, Feyre was begging the king to break her bond with Rhys and let them all go. The king agreed and both were on the floor screaming from pain. When the king was done, Mor grabbed the sisters and Rhys grabbed Cassian and Azriel and winnowed out.

The males arrived at the Town House, while the females were dropped off at the House of Wind. They would all need time to heal, physically and mentally.

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