#it seems to me those would be very interesting
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Guys you really need to get interpreting emotional language as a special interest.
It took me 5+ years and needing to find the right kind of sociological books from the 60s that just studied normal human social interaction to learn how to "speak" the allistics instinctive emotional language but it's genuinely not like you are saying it is here. At least not most of the time. It's not pointless and it exists for a reason.
In a friendly group you haven't earned respect or acknowledgement and you're just the new asshole who doesn't seem to care about people's feelings or existing relationships if you follow this.
A genuinely hostile or unfair groups leadership is going to be maintained by some sort of coercion and if you ONLY get excluded for acting like this without facing other consequences, or getting people you care about into trouble, you'll be lucky.
Friendly groups are held together by mutual respect earned over time and if you come in and don't seem to respect those connections no one will like you or want you there.
Unfriendly groups are led by tyrants or assholes that will use exclusion, consequences that are designed to be unfair for you and worse than not complying, and coercive indirect force to make people comply and exclude those who don't.
That's how it works, mostly, I'm oversimplifying to some extent. There's many factors that must be evaluated for each group, and you can only do so by learning the unconscious language of emotion on a consious level and not coming across as an asshole.
I cannot stress enough that it literally does not matter if that seems fair, it does not matter if it doesn't make sense from a purely logical perspective. Let me try to explain: alright dealing with other people's emotions is like approaching a strange dog. Ok?
Some dogs are nice, some dogs will bite you, by understanding dogs you can influence that outcome when you see a dog but it would be very silly to say the dog is not behaving rationally if it bites you. The dog is a dog. The human is a human. The human is a human in the same way the dog is a dog. There are instinctual behaviors there even if you don't understand them.
Anyways that's just how humans work unless part of their brain is broken, but the human brain is very smart so as a human you can (and should) understand and work around the problem. And it's your problem, so it's your responsibility.
If you're smart you'll get it. I forget sometimes that autistic people aren't any more likely to be smart than allistics and half of everyone is dumb - but the good thing is that if you're smart I'm not talking about you and you don't need to be offended. Ayyy good news 👍🏼

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Her Office
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Relationship: Ceo!Wanda X Butch!Loser!Reader
Summary: Wanda tried to get to know you a bit better before you start working together but an innocent question bring out painful memories.
Words: 2.1k
Warnings: age gap relationship (R is early 20s, W is like 40), Past verbal and physical abuse, Slight hinted at homophobia, Mommy issues bc i have them too, power imbalance?
A/N: sorry this took so long. uni is really kicking my butt right now and just when i thought i'd have time to write my research supervisor gives me a 400+ page book to read.
Inspiration
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
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“I can’t believe you’re abandoning me… and for my sister!” Pietro joked as he helped you clear out your desk. You’d made yourself at home over the past few months working for him. You were sad to be leaving but excited to be working for Wanda, also incredibly nervous, like throw up into the recycling bin near the printer nervous. Not that that had happened of course.
“But seriously, we are going to miss you down here. Don’t go forgetting about us.” He patted you on the back handing you the last of your stuff.
“How could I forget you? I’ll be down here like every other day wont I? Wanda visits all the time.” you reply with slight confusion. Wanda was always coming down to check on things, like she must do with all the departments. You assumed most of your job would be to accompany her many visits around the building. Staying close and taking notes on what she says like you’d seen Theo do.
“Yeah, she definitely was just coming down here for routine check-ins.” Pietro mumbled with the faintest air of smugness of someone who knows something you don’t has. Before you could register what he said, the doors on the far side of the room swung open and in came Wanda.
Her stride exuded confidence as she made her way over to you and your now empty desk. Her hair was slightly messy, shirt untucked, and instead of her usual high heels she wore flats.
“Got everything?” She sounded short of breath, like she had just been running. “The elevator to my office is being inspected so we’ll have to take the stairs.” Without another word, Wanda started walking back towards the door pausing to look behind her when she sensed you hadn’t moved. “Come on those 15 floors won’t climb themselves.” Suddenly her slightly dishevelled appearance made sense. You took a deep breath and gave one last look at Pietro, who seemed to be going to great lengths to not laugh at his sister, before following Wanda.
The stair well was in stark contrast to the rest of the building. Tall grey brick walls and bright white lighting. It seemed to also double as extra storage space judging by the stacks of boxes and pallets back here. You only seen them briefly while getting your monthly fire safety talks from a very unenthusiastic Dr. Banner, who once again felt the need to remind the group he had much more important things to be doing than this. As much as you found the man funny, he’s short temper made him a little scary at times.
People yelling had always been something you weren’t fond of. Your mom had always been so angry with you for not behaving like she wanted. The constant being told to sit, speak, and act ‘like a lady’ throughout your childhood had led to so many arguments. Femininity was just something you never had an interest in and the pressure to fit in from your family only made you reject it harder.
This never made the yelling easier, instead it had only made you desperate to avoid that sort of conflict. Wanda yelling the other day had scared you in a way you hadn’t felt since you were a child, and you were now desperate to make sure you were never on the receiving of her rage.
“Y/n, careful.” You had been so lost in thought you’d missed a step and stumbled forward. Wanda who had been talking non-stop about how inconvenient the elevator maintenance was stopped to help you pick up some pens that had fallen from the box you were carrying. “Do you need some help with that? It looks heavy.”
You saw this a challenge.
“No I’m fine, I’m very strong.” Wanda gave you a smile as she placed the pens back into the box touching your hand as she pulled away before turning around to continue climbing the stairs. Your face immediately flushed red.
“Only 4 more flights to go.” Her voice echoed off the bare walls was she turned another corner. You let out a sigh, the box was actually really heavy.
Once in her office you placed the box on an empty desk in the corner of the room. It was pushed up to the window and gave you an amazing view of New York. It was only then you realised how high up you were.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Wanda came up behind you making you jump slightly, all this achieved was making the red head chuckle slightly. “You’re so jumpy you know that?”
“I’ve been told.” You gave a small smile. Being alone with Wanda was terrifying and exciting all at once. The reality of the situation hadn’t really sunk in till just now. It was going to be the two of you, alone, very often from here out.
“Can I ask you something?” You nervously asked fiddling with the hem of your shirt not daring to look Wanda in the eyes. Her beautiful green eyes.
“Of course you can, darling.” Her final word rattled about in your brain momentarily making you forget what you even wanted in the first place.
“What you said, before,” Finally a coherent thought, “about wanting me, from the start. Was that true?”
“Yes, why would I lie.” Wanda raised an eyebrow giving you a no-nonsense look that you couldn’t if it was fully serious or not.
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that! I just, why didn’t you? You know, pick me the first time?” It was definitely a word salad that came out your mouth, thank God you were better at writing than speaking. “I’m sorry I don’t mean to pry…” you added after Wanda took a second to respond.
“No, no, don’t apologies…” She took a deep breath as if debating what to say. “That first day, I thought you had potential,” she began, clearly choosing her words carefully, “I just wanted to, see if you had what it takes to you know, be mine.”
“Be… yours.” The words caught in your throat as swallowed hard, struggling to speak.
“Be my intern, my assistant.” Wanda rushed to clarify but something inside you felt like her previous words were more honest. Not that you would dare push her on it. “And being my intern comes with a lot of responsibility, so I hope you are ready.”
“Yes ma’am.” You say saluting the older woman, who found the action quite amusing. “What do you need me to do first?”
Turns out Wanda didn’t want you to do anything just yet. Instead the two of you sat across from each other in the strange living room area of her office. Wanda lent back into a large leather armchair while you sat on the edge of the couch, almost velvety, black sofa.
She offered you a tea or coffee but instead you opted for the remnants of the energy drink you had tried to chug on the train this morning. Your choice in beverage clearly wasn’t approved by Wanda but she did little to stop you besides remind you of their negative health effects.
She asked you questions about yourself, clearly wanting to get to know you better but you held back from answering her questions too honestly, scared of being fired or disappointing her which was somehow worse in your head. They were all basic questions, and you asked some back at her.
She wanted to know about your favourite meal, how to you travel to work, where are you staying, and when you were going to get some proper work shoes. Your real answer being when they made comfortable ones but instead you opted to say when you get your next paycheck.
Then she asked something that caught you completely off guard. “How is your relationship with your family?”
“My family?” You repeat to make sure you were hearing things right.
“Yes, your family, you are one of the only interns not from a known family in the city, you mentioned you aren’t from New York originally, they must be proud of you?” Wanda spoke with a warm smile.
You hadn’t noticed but during the conversation you had leant back into the couch. It was like she had given you permission to relax for a change. You didn’t understand why but talking with Wanda made you feel comfortable, almost too comfortable at times making you need to remind yourself she was your boss.
“They umm,” your mind went to the argument you’d had with your father when you told him you were going to university miles away, almost across the entire country, “can we talk about something else.” Your voice shook slightly at the memory.
How angry he’d been, how angry he always was. The same with your mother, always so resentful, never protecting you from him. You spent your first semester coach surfing with a black eye till you had enough money to afford to rent a shitty little apartment.
“Sweetie, it’s okay.” Wanda had seemingly caught on that something was wrong and moved to sit next to you on the couch. She placed her arm around you and pulled you into a side hug that made your whole body tense. “For what it’s worth, I’ve seen your grades and watched how hard you work. I’m proud of you y/n.” Her voice had the same warmth as earlier, it was sickeningly genuine to you.
All you wanted to do was melt into her arms, but you couldn’t this was your boss. She was just being nice, there was no way she would let you get that close to her under regular circumstances. You told yourself you wouldn’t let yourself get attached. You’d seen how ruthless she could be, and it terrified you to think of being on the receiving end. Catching feelings would just make your eventual fuck up ever worse.
Besides there was no way in hell CEO Wanda Maximoff, multimillionaire Wanda Maximoff, Old enough to be your mother Wanda Maximoff would ever have feelings for you in return.
“I need to go to the bathroom.” You stood up as quickly as Wanda grip on you allowed. “Sorry.” You hurried to the small bathroom in the corner of the room, locking the door behind you before allowing yourself a moment to cry.
Cruel words from you parents fought the gentle reassurance Wanda had given you. You took a moment to collect yourself. Taking several deep breaths and trying to get rid of the redness in your eyes with a little cold water from the tab.
The bathroom, like everything in Wanda’s office screamed sophistication. The mostly white tiles with the smallest hint of red complemented the plush red hand towels, and several well looked after plants littered a shelf above the toilet. Most surprisingly was the shower and clawfoot tub in the room. Did she actually use them? Or where they just there because they could be?
Finally you were ready to leave the bathroom, stepping out you saw Wanda quickly look away from your direction. Had she been watching the door the whole time?
“Y/n, feeling better?” you gave a weak nod. “Good, right back to business then, first order is sorting out… this.” She pointed towards you clothing. Since Pietro had never required you to dress professionally, you had never updated your wardrobe. You wore the same baggy, teen boy esc clothing you always did.
“Yeah, I thought that would be a problem, sorry about the way I dress. I just…”
“No I like the way you dress.” Wanda cut you off. “I mean, you dress fine, it’s just not… appropriate if you are going to be accompanying me to important meetings and such.” You couldn’t tell if you were imagining it, but you could have sworn you saw a small blush creep onto the older woman’s face.
“Right, there should be a measuring tape in the third draw of the left cabinet in my office. I have some work to get on with you can’t help with.” Wanda began quickly pressing the button of the, hopefully, now working lift.
“I want you to measure yourself and note it down. I’ll sort you out some more work appropriate clothing.” Before you could ask any other follow up questions the doors to the lift opened and she rushed inside, disappearing almost immediately.
Walking into Wanda’s office you looked out at the city, everything seemed so quiet, so still from all the way up here. Grabbing the measuring tape you sat down at your desk, getting your phone out to look up exactly what measurement you need to give her. You’d never had to think about measurements when buying clothes before. Your face flushed a bit think about the idea of Wanda choosing you some clothes. Hopefully she wouldn’t put you in a pencil skirt, or God forbid heels.
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Tag list: @wandaslittlehorns @starfire1008 @mirage018 @viosblog112 @nebthetautora @ciaoooooo111 @cowboy-hunter @htinha157 @the-falling-avenger @reginassecretlover @canyonyodeler @mrsromanovaa @loneliestafterparty @imawandasimp @caramelcat123 @marvelwomen-simp @reginassweetheart @unadulteratedballoonduck @kei034 @coollemonsaresour
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A Helping Hand- S. Aizawa

Shota Aizawa x AFAB!Reader
Summary: It's a sex pollen fic, I think we're all familiar with the concept at this point.
CW: smut, coercion/dubcon (since it's sex pollen, but swear they want it), unprotected p in v sex (don't be dumb), missionary, oral (f rec), NSFW!!!! DNI if you’re a minor WC: 6,991
A/N: Yayyyy I worked on this one for so long!! I have the most trouble with ending fics so it took me a long time and idk if I'm totally satisfied with it but it's the best I've got. Picture found on Pinterest but unfortunately could not find the artist name... so sorry but please comment/tag the artist if you are able! **Y/H/N= your hero name, Y/N = your name but I'm sure you're aware ;)
You walked along the barren city street, with swinging arms and a tune in your brain as you patrolled the practically empty area. The section of the city you were in really only sees business and foot traffic midday, when the corporate buildings on the outer parts of the city are open and the people working in them come out to get refreshments from the small mom-and-pop cafes dotting the streets. By sunset, this area is usually clear- businesses locked up and lights off. This is the scene you were surveying now. You couldn’t wait until you had more than just a year’s experience under your belt as a pro hero, then maybe you would be recruited for patrol in more interesting parts of the city- maybe you’d stop a lot more villains! The thought snapped you back to the present, as you realized that in order to get where you want to be you had to be vigilant in the here and now, no matter how boring it may be.
You thought of the faceless villain that was currently on everyone’s radar, and who everyone wanted to put behind bars at the moment. There had been reports for a few weeks now of a villain hitting some heroes in attacks with a very, very strange quirk. This villain is suspected to be working alone, and with the little that is known about him it is unclear if he has any intentions other than incapacitating the heroes he encounters. The quirk they possessed was……well, to be quite honest, still kind of a mystery to you. Everyone who had previously been affected by it and lived seemed to be so…secretive? No, no that wasn’t the right word. Ashamed? Ashamed seemed more like what the poor pro heroes who had suffered the quirk felt when their experience was over. A few had died from the quirk when the villain had first gotten on the scene. The unfortunate martyrs had taught the doctors what was needed to eliminate the effects on the body and save the lives of those that came after them. You didn’t know exactly what it was the cure was for being struck by the quirk, but you knew that it was commonly known above more higher-ranking heroes as well as any healers that worked with heroes, so you weren’t too concerned. If you or someone you knew got hit with it, someone would be able to help you, you were sure. Ever since those first unlucky few, those that followed had all pulled through with this “cure”. Being as new as you were on the scene, you didn’t get told every little detail of everything that went on on the streets, not yet anyway. You knew that one day you’d work your way up the hero rankings and be a role model for kids around the world, but you’d start slow. Which was why, for the time being, you didn’t care if you were a newbie on some “need-to-know basis�� status– one day, you’d be high in the rankings and save countless lives.
You began walking around the corner of a building onto the next city block. You had still had your head turned to the street you were leaving, however, so you bumped into someone seemingly walking in the opposite direction. Apologies were leaving your lips before you’d even brought your eyes up to meet theirs. You’d barely been able to get out two words before you began to choke, though.
When your gaze focused on the person standing in front of you, still choking, you watched a too-wide grin spread devilishly across a sunken face. The reddish-pink cloud of– smoke? Dust?-- was still thick in front of your face, but it had dissipated just enough to see their large teeth glint in the late afternoon sun. You grabbed at your throat as if you were truly choking, trying to capture a breath that didn’t suck down another mouthful of that tainted air. You were utterly useless, pathetic, as your knees buckled and you took staggering steps toward the person you were SURE was the villain who had claimed so many victims as of late, fitting the description of his attacks to a tee. Normally, you were much more lithe and quick- having the speed and agility of a cheetah has its perks. But it appeared as if the substance he emitted had affected not just your respiration, but your body seemed weak as well. He slipped away easily, your brain barely registering your disappointment in yourself that you couldn’t do more. Your vision was going black around the edges, so you slumped to the cracked street, hoping that you could calm down enough to ask for an assist.
After about a full minute of slowly pulling in clean air, your vision was beginning to clear and you were able to activate your earpiece to call for help of any nearby heroes on patrol who weren’t too occupied at the moment. Your voice was gravelly from the amount of coughing you’d done, and it began to take on a strange breathy, husky tone that you weren’t sure you were intending. You almost sounded sultry. But that’s ridiculous. You also couldn’t help but notice how hot your body was starting to feel. As if you had a bad sunburn, your skin was warm to the touch and felt like it was burning from the inside out. It was becoming painful, you realized. And your breathing… oh god, again your breathing was changing- speeding up to short breaths and gasps, feeling as though you couldn’t get quite enough oxygen in, but it was different than a few moments before. It wasn’t so much as if you were choking anymore but like you were exerting yourself. You figured you’d hold off to tell anyone that until they arrived in person…. You were sure the entire city’s hero network on patrol and on call didn’t care for you to drone on about details when they were probably all busy themselves.
So you kept it short and sweet, and you let them know you suspected an attack from that villian who’d been going on a rampage lately and you just needed someone to help you get to medical to get fixed up.
With a truly impressive speed, you heard the comms activate in response. A man’s voice burst to life in your ear. “Y/H/N? Stay where you are, I’m close to you. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.” That voice, it was familiar… It was broody and deep, it was….sexy. You shook your head and reprimanded yourself internally. That voice that was so familiar, sexy as it was, shouldn’t be distracting you at the time. You should focus on getting your breathing under control and taking a hold of your senses in case any other villains popped up in attack. You couldn’t stop replaying the timbre of the man’s voice though, thinking it sounded almost like Eraser-
No, you cut your thoughts off forcefully, You’re thinking with your-rather feverish- body at the moment instead of your head.
Surely the hero coming to help you out wasn’t the one man you had a disgustingly desperate crush on- that had to be wishful thinking, some fantasy conjured up by your love sick mind. He’s your coworker, and while he’d been nothing but nice to you each time you’d seen him you’d only had a few conversations that you severely overanalyzed in your head. When some of the pro heroes went out for drinks after shifts some evenings, it’s like he got awkward when you arrived and drifted to the sidelines, choosing to watch rather than engage. It made you wonder if he didn’t quite like you, and the thought of that being a possibility made you sad.
“Eraserhead? You sure? If you need backup I think I’m only a couple blocks behind you, just let me know,” a female hero’s voice in the comms responded to the one before it.
Oh god. Oh god, oh shit, oh fuck. It was him. Exactly as you dreaded, the man who was currently on his way to your aid was Eraserhead of all people. If you didn’t keel over and die from the quirk’s effects themselves, you might just die of embarrassment from knowing that your personal hero, and man that you had a not-so-small crush on, was coming to help you in such a vulnerable and powerless state. You felt so puny and helpless, you could almost cry. You also felt…. turned on. God, were you sick in the head? Why were you getting turned on at a time like this? And… and had your cycle come early or was that increasingly damp spot between your legs coming from something else? Your mind was running circles, thinking desperately of ways to just calm the fuck down before Eraser showed up that you hadn’t been paying the most attention to your surroundings, and the dark figure who dropped onto the sidewalk merely 2 feet from your burning hips startled a squeak out of you. Taking in the person, you sighed in relief and also internally went into panic mode as you saw that it was him, peering down at you warily, as if he weren’t sure if the quirk you were under was contagious or something. You were able to get out a “thank you for coming” before he knelt down and softly placed a hand on your elbow.
“Can you stand?” He asked, and you nodded shakily. As he helped you to your feet, a soft breeze blew from behind him, picking up his hair and scarf and wafting his scent right into your face. It was musky, and slightly sweet, a little bit spicy and so very manly. Your teeth ground against each other and your thighs clenched tightly as you just barely concealed a whine from your companion. God, you needed to get yourself TOGETHER. Your silly little crush on Eraser had never been this bad, you’d never been so unable to control your inappropriate thoughts in public like this before. You’d certainly never had such a visceral reaction. You could feel Eraser’s eyes on you, studying your features from closer than he’d ever been before. You saw in your periphery that his eyebrows were pinched together in the middle, concern shattering his usually cool expression. That was worrisome to you, so you began to babble out questions.
“Eraser? What is it? Do I look really bad or like– I, I mean like, as in the quirk attack! Does it look bad?”
He didn’t meet your eyes for a second, his own still making its rounds across every crease in your skin before coming to rest on your gaze. He took his time in answering, making your anxiety spike.
“You don’t…. Look bad, Y/H/N, but I can tell you’ve been hit by the quirk hard. Here, let’s get you inside. Somewhere cool, huh? You’re probably burning up.”
You nodded in agreement, lips coming together in a small pout as Eraserhead looped an arm around your waist and pulled your arm over his shoulder. You felt like a child, but at the same time, a sick little part of your brain whispered at the edge of reason that you liked it, that this felt good. Every inch of his body that pressed up against yours felt like a fire poker sticking you in the point of contact. You’d never felt such heat in your life. Your knees were wobbling, thighs trembling from the effort of trying to walk while keep them tightly together, for fear of anymore… untimely arousal leaking out. The last thing you’d want was for him to notice. Not only would that be embarrassing but he’d probably think you were a perv, too! You didn’t think you could handle that. Eraser was so mature and no-nonsense, he’d instantly lose respect for you if he knew your…predicament.
But what if he likes it?
The voice came from a dark corner of your mind, and you gave your head a tiny shake as if to make the thought dissolve. The effort was futile though, as the voice came back stronger.
What if it turns him on to know how wet you are just thinking about him? What if he wants to fuck you too, you little perv? You act all coy and innocent but all you really want if his big fucking fat di-
You shook your head again, a tiny whisper of the word “no” fell from your lips. You could see Eraser again in the corner of your eye, face still a mask of concern as he noted the sweat breaking out at your hairline. You still hadn’t been able to control your breathing fully, and you’d been walking slowly with his assistance for a few minutes now. He gently tugged you toward a new apartment building that hadn’t quite opened to the public yet, though it appeared to have finished construction. He continued to guide you until he reached a completed room with a door that he closed behind the two of you.
“Okay, Y/H/N, talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling currently.” He loosened his grip on your waist, helping you prop yourself against the wall.
You couldn’t possibly tell him how your pulse picked up into overdrive because he smelled sexy. You gulped, thinking of something to say that would satisfy him that wasn’t lying.
“It’s.. so hot… and I’m… it’s sticky. No, no! Not like, me… like, like the air… because it’s so fucking… fucking hot…” You panted, bending at the waist and bracing your hands on your knees. You couldn’t help how wanton you sounded. You also couldn’t help the tiny moan that escaped you when Eraser rolled his sleeves up and you saw his forearms, corded with lean muscle from years of hero work. God, had he always had that vein there? Your mouth watered as the thought of biting down on it entered your head. His hand came up, snapping in front of your eyes to bring your focus back to him. To the conversation at hand, really.
“Eraser….” you panted, trying to meet his eyes. “Do you know what’s happening to me? Please…. Please, I just… I don’t feel right. It’s starting to hurt.”
“Y/H/N, this question might seen odd or out of line considering we’re coworkers, but are you also feeling… aroused? Sexually?”
Your pulse jumped and your eyes flew up to meet his as he gazed steadily at your face. Was he asking because it’s related to the quirk, or was he asking because he wanted to fu-
You gulped and nodded your head, not seeing any reason to lie.
You noticed the subtle twitch of muscle near his eye. He had winced, but he gave a brief nod in return as he set his jaw.
“The villain that attacked you has a lust quirk. It makes the victim be overcome with lust until it’s unbearable. If you don’t receive a cure in time, the quirk raises your body temperature and heart rate so much that your body can’t handle it and begins to shut down. It’s not fatal to anyone gets the cure after being infected as long as you’re taken care of within a few hours of being hit. You aren’t feeling great now, but if we delay getting you care then your chances of survival are lower.”
You- what? A lust quirk? Well that certainly did explain how your body was reacting to being in the presence of your hero crush. Normally, you weren’t this disgustingly horny outside of the sanctuary that was your bed.
“Oh… okay, so… get me to the cure. P-please,” you croaked, barely slurping back the saliva that your mouth was producing as you stared at the handsome man in front of you.
“It’s… the quirk requires that the person who is affected engage in- ehm- sexual relations with another. Until completion, sometimes from both parties. I can take you to Recovery Girl, but I stopped to give you a brief breather while I gathered the contact info of someone that you may be able to call to… help you… deactivate the quirk’s effects. A boyfriend or girlfriend?” Despite Eraser’s no-nonsense manner, he still stuttered a bit with explaining the “cure” for the quirk. It pleased you to know that he still had some shame regarding such a sensitive situation. And if you were fully within your right mind, you also would have noticed the faint pink coloring creeping up the sides of his face as he let you absorb what he had just said.
Your eyebrows furrowed together, and you hung your head as you uttered out a defeated, “no one,” to the floor. Even though your voice had been low, he nodded and reached back out to steady your wobbly form.
“There are some who are aware of the effects at Recovery Girl’s place, maybe one of them can help with the situation. They’re very professional from what I’ve heard, and discreet. You have nothing to be–”
Your voice, breathy and whiny even to your own ears, cut him off. “What about you?”
He faltered in his speech, and shook his head. “No, I haven’t um.. Been someone who has relieved anyone of this specific quirk before. It’s probably best if we get-”
You interrupted him again, this time by keeling over and falling onto your knees with a groan. Your arms clutched tightly at your midsection, which was burning worse now, so much worse, and the reproductive organs you possessed…. God, why did they ache so badly? It felt like they were twisting around one another, so tightly it was cutting off the circulation inside. Your eyes still squeezed shut in pain, you whimpered and began to beg.
“Please, please…. Eraser, I won’t tell anyone, just PLEASE I’m begging you… everything hurts so bad.., want it to stop, please stop it. I need it, I need you to… I need you, please…” You were babbling, and your distress had risen to a point where you couldn’t bring yourself to care about how you were coming off to him. His eyes were wide as he listened, arms frozen in the air, outstretched toward your frame.
“I… I don’t want to be taking advant–”
“You’re NOT, Eraser, I swear I NEED you to fu–”
“Okay! Okay, alright. I understand what’s at stake here. It seems your body is progressing rapidly and time is of the essence anyway. We are going to have a conversation about this when you’re fully recovered but… Okay, I’ll help you.”
His hands softly cupped your elbows and guided you to sit on the bare floor. He quickly unwound his scarf from around his neck, extending it out to you.
“To put under your head. Lay down and get comfortable.”
Your thighs clenched once again at the suggestion of the command. You could tell he noticed, his eyes flicking down to the movement for just a millisecond. Another tiny whimper fell from your lips as you grabbed the scarf from him and bunched it up behind your head, lying down as he had instructed. He kneeled in front of you, noting the way your body squirmed uncontrollably.
“I’m going to start slow, okay?”
Your head nodded frantically as you hummed. You wanted to close your eyes and savor the feeling when his fingertips landed lightly on your ankles, but you couldn’t resist watching him touch you with such reverence. His fingers skated up the sides of your legs, so slowly your hips were wriggling with anticipation as they came to the waistband of your form fitting hero pants.
His eyes had never once left yours while he’d done this, and now he raised his eyebrows at you in question– asking for consent.
“Yes, yes, please. Please touch me, do… do anything you want,” you said breathlessly. It spilled out of you before you could worry that you sounded too desperate. If you had been more aware, you’d have noticed how his eyes darkened and his mouth went slack at your words. But you didn’t notice. No, all you could look at was the fingers that were now on either side of your hips, hooking into the fabric bunched up there and sliding the material down your legs.
There was a brief moment of relief when the cool air inside the building touched your sweaty skin, now exposed. But it quickly vanished as the heat caught back up to you. You resumed your wriggling, and Eraser brought his hands back to your hips, tightening his grip and holding them in place.
“Stop moving so much, Y/H/N. I know it’s hard, but let me help you.”
You nodded, trying to quell the movement. One of his hands made its way down to your core, now bare. Look, there’s no room in that tight hero suit for panties, okay?
You shuddered as his fingertips ghosted down your slit and then up again. Your mouth began to form pleas again, but before you spoke, he did.
“Shhhh. Let me help you. Let me take care of you, sweet girl, okay? Let me make you feel good.”
Holy shit. Holy shit, holy fuck. That was definitely doing something to you. Sweet girl ? If his fingers had lingered on your soaked slit a second longer you thought that might have sent you over the edge, even after barely having been touched.
You shivered again, moaning a little. He took this as a sign of encouragement, and pressed his thumb on the underside of your clit. FUCK. That… that was heavenly. You moaned again, and again as he began to circle your clit, building up a slow rhythm. Your eyes fell shut, your hips began circling against his hand as he worked you up.
“That’s it, such a good girl. So wet, you’re so soaked baby. Do you wanna feel something in that tight little cunt of yours? It just looks so fucking good, I just wanna…”
You felt one of his fingers prodding at your entrance. You began chanting a series of yesyesyes’s when you felt him press inside and crook up right into the spongy spot that made you cry out. Fuck, it was like he knew exactly where to touch you; like he’d already mapped your body out without you knowing. The thought of his pure skill at working your pussy made you even more wet as he added another finger and started fucking them in and out of you. Your fingers weren’t long enough to reach all the spots he was hitting inside you with ease, so you whined like a bitch in heat, which you supposed you were in the moment.
Your eyes were still closed, so you were totally unprepared when you felt something slick and warm start to circle your clit. The second you realized it had to be his tongue, your mouth fell open in a gasp. You fluttered your eyes back open and looked down between your legs, where his face was now buried, eyes barely visible beneath messy hair- though you could see that he was looking directly at your shocked face. You felt his lips twist against you… into a smirk? Oh, you thought, he’s filthy.
Your hips were now gyrating wildly, and one of his hands came up from where he’d been cupping your ass to press you back down to the floor. Once he had you situated, he sucked hard on your clit, practically making you scream.
“Eraser, yes yes, oh my god–”
“Shota,” he’d pulled back for a second, just to gruffly correct you on his proper name, and then dove right back in as if he were starving for it. His enthusiasm alone was making your thighs quake- it was so fucking hot. Your thighs began to tighten around his head and let out a breathless cry of his name. Your fingers snaked down to tangle in his hair, needing to ground yourself through the immense pleasure you felt.
Your head fell back into his scarf again as your back arched, the motions of his tongue against you turning you into a pathetic mess. You weren’t sure if it were due to the squeezing of your thighs or the hair pulling, but you heard him grunt and felt his fingers dig in a little tighter where they rested on your stomach. You let out another moan in response, and felt more fluid gush from your pussy. You couldn’t help it- a sexy man being vocal between your thighs was like your own personal wet dream.
His fingers inside of you sped up, hitting your spot with a wicked precision as his tongue alternated between suckling and licking around your sensitive bud. You began to tighten around his fingers, knowing you were nearing orgasm. You couldn’t form any words at this point, just panting pathetically and moaning as you approached the edge of your pleasure.
“Sho- Sho-ta, I’m– I’m gon-” tried to garble out, to let him know, but he nodded before you could try to fully finish your sentence. You took that as permission, and came harder than you ever had before. Your eyes were tightly shut as your body trembled. His mouth had transitioned to lightly kissing the plump skin of your inner thigh, and his fingers continued to move slowly inside you, working through your ecstasy. You looked back down at him again as he pulled his fingers out completely and sat up on his heels, taking in the sight of his face that was soaked with the evidence of your orgasm. A shudder went through you as you watched him suck his fingers into his mouth to clean them of your release. The sight of him like this was almost enough to make you cry out again.
Your relief was short lived as a pang of the pain and heat from earlier returned, quickly making your loose body tense up again. Your whimper this time was one of pain, and Aizawa’s sharp gaze flicked back down to your face.
“It’s not gone?” he questioned, shuffling forward and laying a comforting hand on your knee. You shook your head violently, groaning at the burning in your abdomen and curling in on yourself.
“Fuck…” he muttered, barely audible. “We have to… we have to try something else, Y/N, is that okay?”
Your hazy mind barely picked up on the fact that he had used your real name, not your hero name. You didn’t even think he knew your real name, not really. The surprise of this realization lasted barely a second as you groaned in pain again and quickly nodded your head in response to his inquiry. You felt him shift even closer to you, then he was leaning over you and filling your watery vision completely. His hand that wasn’t rubbing soft circles into your knee came up to your chin, which he tilted up in a silent command to meet his eyes. You complied, and waited for him to speak or touch you or do anything that might help.
“Y/N,” his voice came out, soft and sure with a gravelly edge, “I think we have to have sex for it to stop. For some, just an orgasm can bring an end to the effects of the quirk but for others, if there aren’t two parties who orgasm from some type of penetrative sex, it continues. I don’t… I don’t know why, but I think we have to do this if you’re still feeling the quirk.”
You felt like your ears were ringing– did you hear him right? He was going to have sex with you? You knew that the situation you were in was dire, but you almost could’ve laughed at the fact that you were about to be in your own personal heaven. As your mind wandered off, you felt him give your chin a tiny, gentle shake to capture your attention again.
“Hey, Y/N? I need you to focus okay sweetheart? Is that okay? Are you okay with doing this?” He asked you, concern pinching together the features of his handsome face. You nodded, and tried to voice your consent, but you could only mouth the word yes. He nodded back at you in confirmation, and released his grip on you to lean back and start unbuckling the belt around his waist. “I don’t have any protection, but I can pull out if I need to.”
You managed to find an ounce of strength remaining in your body and used it to push up on your shaking elbows, trying to look at his face so you could address any concerns. “N-no, I’m on the pill. It’s okay. And- and I get tested regularly, I’m g-good.”
He nodded, the picture of seriousness, as he responded with a simple “me too,” and continued fumbling with his belt.
You reached one hand out, barely grasping the bottom hem of his shirt and making an upward motion with it before supporting yourself with your arms again. He glanced up, and you whispered into the quiet room.
“Take it off. Please,” you tacked onto the end, hoping you didn’t sound too demanding and also hoping that he was even half as into this as you were. He followed your request without hesitation, and you took in the sight of his pale torso, muscle rippling under his skin as he pulled the fabric up over his head. You bit your lip, not wanting any noises slipping out at the mere sight of him and revealing how much you secretly wanted all of this. With him mostly undressed, pants around his knees and shirt discarded, he leaned down toward you again.
“Is it okay if I touch you here?” he asked while trailing one of his large hands up your ribcage, running below the swell of your breast. You released a small whimper and nodded quickly, reaching up to help him remove the tight fabric of your top. Once it was pushed up over your head and you were settled again, his fingers ghosted over your right nipple, already hard with your arousal. Once he’d run his fingers over your pebbled, sensitive skin a few times, he pinched, causing you to yelp in surprise. His face had a deliciously sexy smirk on it.
“Please… Please, Shota….” you begged, not for anything in particular, but just more of him.
“Please what, princess? You want me to touch you over here too?” He asked teasingly, trailing his other hand over your left breast and bringing that nipple between his fingers. As he rolled both nipples, he ground his clothed and already hard cock against your core. You tried to fight your eyes rolling back again at the relief you felt from that little bit of friction, and heard him stifle a breathy laugh.
“Shota… Please, I want… I need you to fuck me,” You panted out, proud of being able to get out a full sentence, and simultaneously nervous that you were too forward.
His eyes darkened, and any hint of teasing that was flitting across his expression lifted. Faster than you could process, his hands were on either side of your face, pulling you slightly up to him as he pressed his mouth over yours. You’d thought his hands were divine? They were nothing compared to his lips. You’d never been kissed as passionately as he was kissing you. No, devoured was a better word for it.
Your lips parted underneath his, teeth clashing messily as you returned his fervor. His tongue slipped into your mouth and circled your own, and you both moaned at the sensation. One of his hands left your cheek, slipping down between your gyrating bodies to circle your clit with his fingers again, his mouth swallowing the moans this brought forth. Your hands dropped to the waistband of his underwear and pushed it down, just enough so that his cock-definitely above average, you noted mentally- bobbed out, fully at attention, the tip gleaming with precum. He sucked on your bottom lip as you felt him line up with your entrance.
He pulled back slightly, pupils blown wide in what you were sure was a reflection of your own. He searched your face for any hints of hesitation he could find.
“What will be most comfortable for you? Do you want to move-” you cut his sentence off with another deep kiss. You pulled back very slightly, lips still brushing his as you responded that you wanted it “just like this”.
He wasted no time. He entered you fully, and you felt the tip of his cock nudge your cervix. Fuck, how big is he?, you wondered, feeling like you were nearly being split in two despite the preparation you’d had prior and the arousal that continued to seep out of you. He rested his arms on his elbows, encircling your head. His hand tangled into your hair and formed a pillow in addition to his scarf that still lay beneath you. His hips were unforgiving, slamming to meet yours over and over again, making you moan out with each thrust. But your moans were muffled, since all the while his mouth hadn’t left your lips. His lips caressed yours, in a gentle way that didn’t match the pace of his thrusts at all. His tongue moved in slow, sweeping motions as if he were mapping out the interior of your mouth. Everything felt so good, so fucking good.
You knew you were under the influence of a quirk that made you this stupid horny in the first place, but you were certain beyond a doubt that you’d never been fucked so well before. Every point where his skin touched yours was on fire, but in a completely different way than the heat that consumed you because of the quirk. This heat was good, it was delicious, and you wanted to feel as much of his skin as possible. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder and tugged him down slightly, closing the small distance between your torsos. Your nipples pressed against his pecs. It was good, but you needed more, so you brought your legs up and wrapped them around his hips, digging your heels into the small of his back and forcing him deeper inside you with the new angle this created.
He moaned into your mouth, and slowed his pace, grinding into your pussy, barely pulling out. Fuck, it was like his cock was made to fit you, the way the tip brushed over your g-spot when he did that. It was nothing short of euphoric. You pulled away from his mouth with a gasp, reluctant to release his lips, but needing to suck in some oxygen. He plunged his head down to your neck, suckling the soft skin there, moving down until he reached the junction of your neck and shoulder. He nipped at the spot, and you cried out and arched your back in response. You were close now, and you clenched around his cock uncontrollably. You felt his hips falter for a second as you clenched, but he picked up his bruising pace again quickly.
“Shota, Shota I’m close,” you panted into the heavy air, nails digging into his shoulders.
“I know princess, I know… feel you clenching around me… so fucking tight. You feel so good, sweetheart. So fucking good for me. Let go baby, come on me,” he rasped into your ear.
That did it. His filthy words had you coming hard, shaking almost violently and squeezing your eyes shut. You couldn’t help but cry out as you came, Shota’s thrusts not slowing through your climax. You weren’t sure if it lasted seconds or hours, but your breathing began to even out again and you felt Shota’s hips still pistoning inside you, losing the rhythm and pace he’d built up.
He brought his head up so that he could meet your eyes again.
“I’m close, where…?” he questioned.
“Please, come inside me. Fill me up,” you whispered, and watched as his face screwed up with pleasure once you’d uttered the words. His hips pressed tightly to yours and you felt his release fill you, warming you from the inside. His load was huge and you felt it begin to leak out around his cock, still pressed in to the hilt, as the last of his load spurted into you and his body shuddered.
When it was over, his eyes met yours in an almost sheepish manner. You tightened your legs, not ready to let him go yet.
You both began to speak at the same time then. Both of you seemed to be apologizing though, so you clamped your mouth shut and furrowed your brows in confusion.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N,” he spoke first. “You couldn’t help that you were attacked by this quirk, and I was not going to let you suffer or die from it. I’m happy to help you, please don’t feel ashamed.”
You let the kindness of his words soak in for a moment before you giggled. Now it was his turn to furrow his brows.
“I could definitely tell you were happy to help me,” you responded, wiggling your hips slightly, his softening cock still inside you. What? You couldn’t be expected to be the most eloquent at the moment, you’d just had the best fuck of your entire life.
He groaned in (what you were hoping was) feigned annoyance, and rolled off of you, pulling out slowly. He gathered the rumpled pieces of your hero suit, handing them delicately over to you. He began to dress also, the shuffling of fabric the only sounds for a moment before he cleared his throat.
“I imagined the first time I kissed you to be different in my head.”
You blinked, pulling your hair out of the neck of your suit. Had you heard him correctly? He’d imagined kissing you before? Maybe this entire exchange had been a drug induced illusion, and you were actually in a hospital bed right now. But the hard floor beneath your knees was real, and the brush of his fingers against your hip as he reached around you to grab his scarf was definitely real, sending a shiver down your spine still in spite of what had just transpired between you.
You blinked again, feeling dumb from the silence on your part. You quickly rushed out the only thing still rushing through your brain which was, of course, “You’ve thought about kissing me before?”
Color flooded his cheeks as looked intently at his scarf, taking his time in untwisting it.
“Of course I have. You’re…. You’re wonderful. I… I really admire your hero work, Y/N. You’re good at what you do, and you’ve only been doing it for a year” His eyes raised to meet yours. “And I’m sure you know already, but you’re beautiful. Breathtaking, really. Of course I’ve thought about it.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. You didn’t think you’d be able to form words, so you did the only thing you could think of doing in response and lunged toward him again, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his circled your waist. You kissed each other gently this time, no fire underneath, just a curious exploration of one another. When you broke apart, you smiled widely at him.
“Thank you for helping me. I know you’ve said you’re happy to, but really, thank you. I’m just… really glad that it wasn’t something I forced on you. I don’t know if I could have forgiven myself for that.”
His eyes softened, still holding yours, as he nodded. He released your waist with a sigh, opting to take one of your hands in his as he stood. You followed suit.
You hadn’t put your comm unit back in yet, but Aizawa had, and you heard his blare to life. A tinny and very, very loud voice on the other end spoke up: “Yo, Eraser– where are you man?? I’m here with Recovery Girl at the school and we’re super worried! What’s got you guys caught up?”
Shota winced at Present Mic’s volume but answered awkwardly, “We uhm- so Y/N’s okay right now, because we uhm- were able to deactivate the effects of the quirk. So she’s all good I think.”
After a moment of silence in which you both blushed bright red at the revelation, you heard a cackle break out from Mic. Shota ripped the unit out of his ear and turned back to you, muttering that he “can go without that for a second”.
“We should probably go get you checked out with Recovery Girl anyway, just to make sure your vitals and everything look good. It shouldn’t take long, and as far as I know in previous cases once the quirk is gone you don’t need to take any sort of precautionary measures or anything so…” You nodded your understanding as he scratched the back of his neck with the hand not loosely holding yours.
“And then maybe, afterward…” He began speaking again as you both started walking toward the UA campus, “We can grab dinner together? I know we’re doing this all backwards here and normally people start dating each other before they get all intimate but uh-” He cleared his throat, as you felt your heart shoot up into your own and get lodged there.
With a slightly bashful but elated smile, you agreed and squeezed Shota’s hand. He returned the gesture, silently promising himself to never let go of your hand from that moment forward.
#mha x reader#aizawa#shota aizawa#aizawa x reader#aizawa x y/n#my hero academia#fanfiction#anime#aizawa smut#shota aizawa smut#mha smut
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Headcanons for what kind of porn/erotic content Cillian's characters enjoy? I'm particularly interested in Tommy, Crane, and Neil.
(Cillian Murphy, Emmett, Jackson Rippner, Jonathan Crane, Lenny Miller, Neil Lewis, Raymond Leon, Robert Capa, Robert Fischer, Tommy Shelby)
18+ minors go away 🤺 non con/dark content
Cillian Murphy - Vanilla 😔🤚(if he even watches it at all… Like, yall can’t convince me that that man actually watches porn lol)
Emmett - (pre apocalypse) Doesn’t have a whole lot of time for masturbating nowadays but every once in a while when he’s alone he likes watching some age gap stuff, probably anal, but definitely cunnilingus. Lesbian stuff is probably his favorite— especially a young woman eating another woman’s cunt though.
Jackson Rippner - Dark dark dark dark dark. Probably a lot of misogyny, female domination/humiliation, slave/master stuff, hardcore punishments, non con, painal, etc. The worst part though is that he definitely isn’t the kind of guy who watches that purely for fantasy reasons. Like he 100% would do all of that if given the chance and probably has done some of it.
Jonathan Crane - If anyone checked this man’s search history… the cops would be called immediately. Like he probably watches dark porn on sketchy websites that make it really hard to tell if the video is just a skit or actually real (it’s probably real)… Specific categories though: fear play (obviously) and probably like medical torture shit.
Lenny Miller - Honestly?…… probably like.. law enforcement roleplay shit. Or those videos where the girl attempts to steal something and the security guy says he won’t have her arrested if she fucks him lol. But if we’re being more broad: power play stuff, lots of tit fucking, and anal. Also daddy kink.
Neil Lewis - I don’t think he really has a specific niche thing that he watches. Like as long as the girl has tits I feel like he’ll pretty much always be satisfied with it. He never really watches hard core dom/sub videos, but sometimes he’ll accidentally come across a female dominant video. That was how he learned he’s a switch lol. (Also he’ll sometimes come across a really weird fetish and get grossed out at first, but not stop watching and eventually realize he’s into it lol.)
Raymond Leon - Power imbalance, daddy kink, age gap (I’m maybe projecting lol). If he ever has time to watch porn though, I don’t think he’s really taking his time and watching a bunch of stuff. He probably finds something that makes him come pretty quickly and then just watches that a lot before finding a new one. I also doubt he’s into those like 30+ minute long videos that have an entire plot (it’s just a waste of time lol).
Robert Capa - Misogyny lol. He also seems like he likes face fucking a lot for some reason. (Idk why I’m having such a hard time with this one lol) He probably prefers “homemade” stuff rather than stuff made on an actual set. And also stealth recording for some reason. Like those videos where the guy is filming while hitting it from the back, but not using the flash so it’s not obvious whether the woman actually knows or not.
Robert Fischer - If anyone asks him… his answer is always the same: just the normal kind of porn. Which is sometimes true. But his search history is mostly findom, dominatrix, and male humiliation. Sometimes he’ll even listen to f4m erotic audios and get off with a pretty voice in his ear praising him (but also degrading and humiliating him lol) and telling him how to touch himself and when (if) he’s allowed to come.
Tommy Shelby - I don’t know I kinda feel like he rarely ever masturbates because he can literally fuck whoever he wants so he doesn’t really consume very much erotic content… Like if he just wants to get off really quick at work or something I feel like he’d lowkey just use his imagination.
#jackson rippner smut#jackson rippner#jonathan crane#jonathan crane smut#lenny miller smut#lenny miller#neil lewis smut#neil lewis#raymond leon smut#raymond leon#robert capa smut#robert capa#robert fischer smut#robert fischer#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby#thomas shelby smut#thomas shelby#emmett a quiet place#emmett smut#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy#hcs#headcanons
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Do you have any tips in how not to end up with Therapy Speak? I had the immense luck to be diagnosed very early (sarcasm) and so was in therapy pretty much my entire life, which means that Therapy Speak is very natural to me and I struggle with thinking into how normal people would speak about this.
(I started writing one version of my answer and it got REALLY LONG so I'm going to try to keep it high level this time lol even if it is still pretty long)
Really, this question comes down in general to, "How to write realistic dialogue," on the one hand but also, "How to write dialogue that propels my story," on the other.
And let me just level-set by saying how I view "therapy speak" when I discuss it here. I see therapy speak as:
A character using clinical terms to describe their state of mind, emotions, or reasons for certain kind of reactions. E.g. "depression" "anxiety" "overwhelm" etc.
A character exploring their emotions in a clinically-aided manner during conversations and/or to resolve interpersonal conflicts or perceived misunderstandings. E.g. "Sorry I lashed out at you yesterday, my anxiety got the better of me but you didn't deserve that. I'm sorry."
1 ) Consider your setting and characters.
A Medieval Knight Would Not Say That. <- This is a basic tip and I think an obvious one. If your character doesn't live in a time period or world with access to or knowledge of therapy or good mental health practices, it will take your reader out of the story if they suddenly bust out with, "Sorry I overreacted yesterday, I was feeling overwhelmed because of my anxiety."
Frankly, if a story is set anywhere that isn't after the 2010s in certain therapy-friendly population centers in the US, for example, (the US is pretty unique in its widespread access and favorableness to therapy, even compared to Europe and Asia let alone other parts of the world), therapy would still be rare enough that you'd need to tell my how and why this person had access to it and how and why they expect the person they're talking to to also be versed in this sort of framing of conflict resolution or self reflection.
That said, there's still a lot of places in the world and a LOT of demographics where access to therapy or even exposure to it enough to have an understanding of it is pretty rare and even in the US it's very determined by demographics. For example, a 50 year old male school teacher might be open to it, but a 50 year old male truck driver might look at you like you have two heads if you suddenly start talking about your feelings to them in an open and clinical manner.
Then again, real people are varied and nuanced so it's perfectly possible that your grizzled 50 year old truck driver might be binging self-help podcasts on his long drives and be surprisingly very well versed! It could be a really delightful story beat, but you do have to kinda explain to me as the audience how he came across this knowledge since it would be unexpected for him to have it.
Now, this is not to say that no one outside of those exposed to therapy speak has any exposure to introspection or access to their emotions. But, they might not be armed with the clinical terms or techniques.
2 ) Consider what people would say instead.
And when considering what someone would say, consider:
Do they have the clinical terminology to describe what they're feeling?
Do they have the tools to manage their emotions even if they don't have the terminology?
Do they have the tools, terminology, or even the interest in resolving the conflict?
"I'm having a panic attack!" -> "I feel like a giant fist has closed around my lungs, I can't seem to breathe!" - This could be something said by someone who can describe the feelings of a panic attack but doesn't have the knowledge or tools to know what they're experiencing. This could be a Medieval knight speaking or even a totally modern person who doesn't know what a panic attack is or can't believe that a panic attack could happen to them.
Note 1: If you're writing a period piece, plenty of other eras had ways of describing certain feelings, so a Victorian era person might say "melancholia" and mean clinical depression, or a Medieval person could be bipolar and think, idk, maybe that they're possessed or bedeviled by demons. You should inquire into the tools people would have at their disposal, even if they're inaccurate to our modern understanding.
Note 2: Even when people know about clinical terms they might be unable or unwilling to admit clinical things can happen to them. Admitting you have, say, clinical depression can be very scary for people. It could represent a huge change in their life or their self-perception. So they might say something like, "I don't know, I've just been in a very dark place for months and months now." They might be scared to admit this to anyone at all, not unless it's someone they really trust, and even if they trust this person, they might still lash out if they're told, "Uh, buddy, that's depression. You need help." because of what a big shift this might represent to their self-perception. People don't like to hear there's something "wrong" with them or admit it to themselves. Hence, they might be reluctant to admit this at all or if they do, they might downplay it.
"Sorry I lashed out at you, I was overwhelmed and I took it out on you and that wasn't fair." -> "I don't know, it just felt like everything you said kept pissing me off and now I'm pissed off that I yelled at you when it wasn't your fault, which pisses me off even more!" -> This could be someone who doesn't understand the clinical terms AND doesn't have tools to manage their emotions but DOES have an interest in resolving the issue with the other person, albeit not in the calmest manner. This might apply to, say, an angry anime protagonist lol.
"You're the most beautiful girl in the class and I'm not sure if I want you or want to be you, but I haven't come out yet to anyone including myself, so all I have inside me are these big confusing emotions of desire and fear and admiration all mixed together, leaving me unsure of what to do or how I feel about you. I just wish these feelings would go away somehow." -> *Passes crush a note that says*,"Get the hell out of my class!" -> This could be someone who doesn't understand their emotions, doesn't have the tools to express them AND doesn't have an interest in resolving the conflict in a constructive way.
3 ) Consider if resolving the conflict constructively is even good for the story you want to tell.
Stories thrive on conflict. Conflict doesn't need to mean interpersonal drama or screaming arguments or saving the world. But two people sitting down and hashing out all their emotions can act as the climax of the story, in that it resolves and airs out a lot of the simmering tension that could be otherwise used to propel a story further.
For example, a "will they/won't they" love story is resolved when two characters sit down and hash out that they have feelings for each other. That could mark the end of the story entirely. If you feel you've written yourself into a corner, maybe it's because the characters used therapy speak to get everything out there in a constructive way too clearly or too soon and now you've written yourself into a corner if you wanted the story to continue.
(Of course, infinite variations are possible. You could have two characters thoughtfully work out that they DON'T have feelings for each other, only for one to walk away and realize they DO have feelings and now they're worried about revealing those because the other person just laid out so thoughtfully and rationally that they don't have feelings back. Just because people DO communicate doesn't mean the situation can't CHANGE.)
But in order to have characters realistically hold things back, you need to think about the other pressures there might be in their life that would keep two people from sitting down and hashing out every little nook and cranny of thoughts and feelings they might have.
For example, pride or fear - society tends to look down on people, especially male-socialized people, when it comes to openly expressing their emotions. (Or, if you want to divorce it from gendered considerations, let's say a warrior society might or might not be ok with free expressions of emotion that might be considered "weakness".)
Even crying during moments of horrible pain or stress can and has been a source of mockery for many men (and women!), so they could very likely have been socialized out of openly expressing emotions that make them feel vulnerable as a matter of maintaining their pride.
Even if they want to express those emotions, they might fear the negative reaction of the person they're talking to (who could tell them to "stop being a baby!" or "man up!" or "go cry somewhere else!" etc.). This can be especially true for big moments of self-reflection like coming out, or expressing romantic feelings for someone, or expressing that they've been struggling with and masking negative emotions for a long time and are reaching a desperate limit. These are things that can change other people's perspective of you, not always for the better, and the fear of that can prevent people from being open about their feelings.
Personal Note: Too often in fanfic-land, I see fics always coming down on the side of "These fears were silly, the person they're talking to was always going to be understanding and accepting!" which isn't reflective of the real world! Sometimes people, even well-meaning people, might be put off by powerful displays of emotion, or not interested in a relationship through no fault of their own and it DOES make it weird if a friend confesses feelings, and then sometimes people aren't well meaning!
It can be refreshing to see a story that expresses that sometimes these fears of being open and honest about big emotions are valid. Not all family members are cool and understanding about coming out (unless that's the catharsis your story is going for!). Not all people are ok with having someone confess their love for them. Not all people are comfortable with a friend or a comrade in arms saying they're coming close to cracking under the strain.
So these are valid, real life fears, that can serve as valid, real life barriers for why people might not open up to another person and lay out everything they're thinking and feeling as if this person is their therapist.
Generally speaking, the best stories (to me) are the ones that give multiple in-universe reasons why someone doesn't tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth in an open, rational, and clinical manner about how they're feeling. The more outside pressures you can layer on, the less visible the hand of the author is, the better. For example:
Time - the characters didn't have time for a long sit down about their feelings. The world is ending/ the big THING is about to happen soon .They had to make the conversation brief.
Not wanting to lose a friendship - Sure, being in a relationship would be great, but losing the friendship if the love confession makes things weird would be terrible.
Not wanting to lose the position/prestige/job you wanted - a warrior or even an office worker might be cracking under the strain of their mental health, but if they ask for help, they could be fired, or shunned, or removed from the mission. They want to keep their position more than they want help, so they'll speak in circles around or minimize the struggles they're facing.
Other stuff gets in the way - when the world is ending or the external events are piling up, it might just not be the right time or place to discuss your innermost feelings. It might be inappropriate to do so if other people are suffering or even dying all around you. Heck, admitting you feel depressed when the person you're talking to just lost a loved one and is in an even darker place might feel deeply inappropriate. So if you've got a lot of characters running around dealing with a LOT of events, sitting down for a therapy-speak conversation might even feel ludicrous to indulge in as many people tend to put their emotions and wellbeing pretty far down on the list of important things to deal with, especially if they haven't been trained or socialized to prioritize them.
Without getting into a more specific story it's hard to give more specific advice. And there's the eternal caveat to all of this that sometimes an open conversation about emotions that is aimed at resolving a conflict or misunderstanding is the point of a story, especially in fanfic which often likes to explore things that canon doesn't do.
Everything should, in the end, be in service to the story you want to tell. This is just my view on some things to think about when trying to write more realistic dialogue. And of course, as always, when in doubt about dialogue, listen to real people and read your dialogue aloud to see if it sounds natural, if natural dialogue is your goal.
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Thoughts on the new Jia candidate? They seem to be at the very least related to Iori, considering their execution of that one guy and the red snake skin wrapped around himself and his companion(?). Makes me wonder if Iori or her disciples are going to make a physical appearance in the Canto.
Alright, let me put things under the cut for the spoiler warning for literally the last two cutscenes in this Intervallo.
When it comes to Jia Qiu, I don't have many thoughts on his place in the world or wider story as of yet.
It's clear that he's a figure that's meant to have quite a lot of renown, one that can be easily believed as being the one people sing about in the Backstreets. One that is so sure of his position in the world that he doesn't even bother finishing off Xichun or Hong Lu due to knowing they don't pose even the tiniest bit of a threat to him.
It's also interesting how he's described. There's a lot of similarities between him and Hong Lu in that way. He's shown to be always serene, almost intimidatingly so. The way he looks at the Sinners, "as though he was gazing upon the clouds or blades of grass", is a direct reflection of how Hong Lu is described earlier in the same Intervallo. In fact, that confident calmness of his is shown to be what makes him so intimidating.
As for the Iori connection... Well, first of all it's made kind of unclear who Actually kills Shi Yihua. Before the execution happens, Zigong comments on the presence of "a serpent", while Jia Qiu tells her to "leave it". After Yihua is killed, Qiu once again repeats to leave this serpent alone, this time directing the order to Zilu.
This, I think, implies that whoever killed Yihua is not actually affiliated with Jia Qiu at all. That 'serpent' who killed him was an outsider, a spy of some kind that Jia Qiu deemed unimportant enough to let live despite the sudden seemingly hostile action.
It's also important to note that the furry trio from the Prologue all have specifically Purple accessories. While Iori's connection with snakes and serpents is an important part of her identity, what's often more important and identifying is the color Purple due to it being a direct part of her Fixer title.
Thus, personally, I believe the serpent could have some connection to Iori, as it has both the purple and the snake imagery to tie it to her.
Jia Qiu and his posse on the other hand not only are implied to not be affiliated with that serpent, but also only have the snakeskin motive, not the color. It's kind of like the Rabbits of R corp and Hares of the Heishou Pack - they're based on similar animals, but are at their core extremely different and unaffiliated.
But. That's not really what I want to talk about.
No, what I want to talk about is what I think Jia Qiu's narrative role might be.
See, here's the thing about Jia Qiu and his posse. Neither him nor anyone following him are directly named after any DOTRC characters.
However, another source for specifically Zilu and Zigong has already been found - they're named after Confucius's disciples. The reason why that's important is that Confucianism plays a major role in DOTRC, with one of the ways it comes up being a notable part of the reason why Baoyu is abused by his father - as Jia Zheng is a Confucian scholar that tries to live by those values, while Baoyu is anything but.
Thus, there are now two camps I see when it comes to theories on who Jia Qiu is meant to be based on.
There is the camp that believes Jia Qiu might be PM's reinterpretation of Jia Zhu, Baoyu's older brother who dies before the events of DOTRC.
There is also the other camp that looks at the references to Confucius's disciples and believes that Jia Qiu is just straight up Confucius himself.
My take? I think he's both. I think he's a composite character of both Jia Zhu and Confucius. And I even have a sound reason for why PM would do that.
Remember how I mentioned that Confucian values are part of the reason why Baoyu is targeted and abused by his father so much? Well, Jia Zhu is the other part of the reason. Jia Zhu, when he was alive, was exactly the kind of son and heir that Jia Zheng wanted. So, when he died, all of those expectations fell onto Baoyu. There's even a point where Baoyu's mother has a moment where she laments that she wishes Baoyu was the one to die instead of Zhu, as Zhu wouldn't have angered his father nearly as much.
I believe that Jia Qiu is meant to represent everything that Hong Lu's family wishes he could be. Everything that Hong Lu can't truly be no matter how much he tries. A combination of the creator behind the values forced upon everyone in the family, and of the family son who was perfect for the role in his family. The ideal heir, the template Hong Lu was meant to fit but never could.
Something tells me he's not going to survive for long.
#ask#cursedtrans#lu speaketh#limbus company#lcb analysis#lcb speculation#7.5b intervallo#nocturnal sweeping#nocturnal sweeping intervallo#nocturnal sweeping spoilers#7.5b intervallo spoilers
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Forbidden Desires…. Professor Lilia! x Student!Reader
First and foremost, thank you to the lovely @jubshead for being my beta for this chapter!! Secondly, this is a little idea i've had brewing for a while... I am inspired constantly by my fellow Lilia writers, but for this piece i was especially inspired by Soy Celosa, Lo Siento by the talented @ariascoven
Warnings: smutty daydreams, fingering (reader receiving), alludes to masturbation
Word Count: 1.6k
Professor Calderu's Women's History class was quite possibly the most interesting course you'd ever taken. It wasn't just because of the content, although you found it intriguing, it was certainly due to the teacher.
Lilia Calderu was the most divine individual you'd ever seen. Each afternoon she arrived in her lecture hall with a determined stride, hair pinned into a messy updo and elaborate crystal necklaces swinging across her slightly exposed chest. She'd announce in a voice so loud and so clear that even those half asleep in the back could hear her say: "Today we will be discussing…"
Most days you had no trouble concentrating on class, Lilia spoke of women's history so vividly it seemed as if she had lived it herself. You would hang on her every word, eagerly absorbing as much knowledge as you could, all in a hopeless attempt to impress her. You were always so attentive, desperately shooting your hand up in the air to answer any questions she made to prompt discussion.
But today your mind wandered. No matter how much you tried, you could not pull yourself away from the fantasies your mind usually reserved for late at night, when you had the freedom to sneak a hand between your drenched thighs. The image of you bent over your professor's desk, skirt bunched over your ass as Lilia leaned over you from behind, pressing three fingers firmly into your dripping cunt. Her purrs tickling your nape as she whispers in your ear "You like that baby? Come on y/n…. tell me how much you like my fingers in you baby… y/n.. y/n?"
"Y/N!"
Your head snaps from its resting place in your palm at the sound of your professor's voice. It had come not from your daydream, but from the very real and very annoyed woman at the front of the class.
"If you're going to sit in the front row, darling, at least stay awake." Lilia chides.
From her crossed arms and pursed lips, you can see she is clearly annoyed with you.
"That goes for the rest of you too! I know you students were probably busy partying this weekend and getting up to who knows what-"
At the sound of protests she tsks and silences the class with a wave of her arms.
"Ah ah ah! I don't want to hear it. If you can party hard, you can study hard. Stay awake and attentive in my class or get out. I won't be offended by your absence. I have no use lecturing students who would rather be somewhere else."
She gives you one final displeased glare and turns back to the projector, jumping back into her lecture as if she had never diverged from it.
Shame bloomed across your neck and tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You blinked them back hurriedly and attempted to focus on her lecture, internally scolding yourself. You lamented the foolish daydream that caused you to upset your professor, if it was any other class you wouldn't care, but knowing that you had annoyed Signora Calderu left you feeling utterly dejected. You wanted her to like you. At the very least you had hoped she found you a pleasant study. There was no way she would feel that now….
The lecture went by slower than it normally would, your embarrassment at having been called on and used as an example for the class had left you quiet. As Signora Calderu announced the end of class, you wrote down the textbook pages she recommended reading for her next lecture and began to pack your bag.
The only thing on your mind was getting back to your dorm room as fast as possible, to drown your shame in little Debbie cakes and a half assed frozen margarita you kept in your mini-fridge.
You stopped dead in your tracks when your professor’s voice called out to you, "Y/n, come here for a minute please."
You took a deep breath and turned around slowly, plastering what you hoped was an easy smile on your face, taking a few nervous steps towards her.
She was sitting at her desk, reading glasses perched delicately on the tip of her nose as she glanced at a few papers. The sight made your core thrum and you grasped your necklace pendant, stroking it in a desperate attempt to calm your arousal.
"Yes, Signora?" You ask gently.
Lilia glances at you briefly and pulls her reading glasses off her face, setting them on her desk. She releases an annoyed sigh and fixes her sharp gaze on you.
"Is there a particular reason I caught you daydreaming in my class, doll? You're normally so eager to participate in discussion and today you seemed like another hungover delinquent."
The comparison makes you bristle in slight anger and you quickly jump to defend yourself.
"I'm sorry Signora." You announce huffily. "But I can assure you I am not hung over! And frankly I'm a little offended you would even suggest-"
She quirks an eyebrow at you and cuts you off. "Oh? What's so outlandish about the notion that a pretty, young college girl, who's normally so attentive, is slumped over in class because she's riding off the weekends extracurriculars?"
Your mouth drops open in shock and instead of answering her question like any normal, sane individual, you stutter out before thinking. "Y-You think i'm pretty?"
As soon as you hear your own words escape you, you go red and lightly clasp a hand over your mouth. Quick to utter an apology, "Oh! Oh, Signora I am so sorry. I didn't mean to-"
Lilia cuts you off again with a laugh. Her teeth gleam under the fluorescent lights as she grins at your embarrassed state.
"No need to be so ashamed, baby." She smirks. "It's an honest question. But yes, I do think you're rather lovely. Do you not find yourself attractive?" She asks with a gleam in her eyes.
You balk at her momentarily before swallowing your own surprise.
"I think… I think I'm pretty enough." You offer blushing. "I just didn’t expect- well Ii didn’t expect you to say it."
Lilia tilts her head at you and softly hums under her breath, as if she is analyzing your behavior and filing it away to use later. She smiles at you before teasing lightly. "I may be old, honey, but I'm not blind. I know a pretty girl when I see one. You should take more pride in your appearance."
You blush even more at the pet name and the compliment. "Well, thank you Signora… and- and I'm so sorry about earlier in class! I really didn't mean to get so distracted I just-" You swallow thickly at the memory of your daydream. "I suppose I’m just overly tired today."
Lilia purses her lips and hums. Her eyes scan you as if she knows you are lying, but decides not to call you out on it. "It's fine dear. Just…don't let it happen again. You're one of my best students. I'd hate for you to begin to blend in with your peers."
You nod sharply, eager to prove your worth in upcoming classes. As you move to leave the class you suddenly turn back around with a gasp.
"Oh! Signora this may be an ill timed question considering I was not my best today in class… but I was wondering if we could meet sometime during your office hours to discuss a special interest of mine? I'm doing some personal research on the Salem Witch Trials, and I heard from Professor Harkness that you might be able to stir me in a new direction. I think I've exhausted most of my own resources."
Lilia's face lights up with a delighted smile. "Is that so? Well, I'd love to help you, hun. Is the research an assignment for another class?"
You nibble your lip nervously, "No actually. It's just a topic I've always been interested in. I try to um.. to research things that interest me in my own time. I like to think it keeps my education from getting too dull."
Lilia looks at you appreciatively, "I'm glad to hear that, baby. Too often students take classes just to the degree and not to really learn. Tell you what-" She says as she grabs a slip of paper and a pen, beginning to scribble down on it. "Here's my personal cell number. Send me the research you've compiled so far and I'll take a look at it. Then we can pick a time to meet up and go over some new stuff, ok?"
She hands you the slip of paper with her number on it. As you reach for it, the tips of your fingers brush hers and you slightly shiver at the contact.
"Thank you, Signora!" You gush. "I really, really appreciate the help. I'll send my research to you as soon as possible."
She laughs lightly and puts back on her reading glasses, dismissing you with a wave. "No rush, baby. Just go home and get some sleep. I don’t want you drifting away in my next class."
You give a small laugh yourself and, with another thank you and a polite goodbye, you leave her classroom, beginning the walk back to your dorm.
Well that's that! Comments and constructive criticism valued and enjoyed. Lemme know any ideas you have for future chapters, i plan to make this a multi-chapter fic with some decent slowburn and plenty of smut to come later on.
dividers by @strangergraphics
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Before, I assumed that the reason Slughorn doesn't have Severus as part of the Slug Club is because Severus doesn't have any social standing, which may be true, and I definitely enjoy that interpretation.
However, this time around, I realized that Severus joined Hogwarts to teach Potions to stay close to Albus and be a double agent. He may have only ended up Potions Master because it was the only slot available. If Slughorn had stayed on, perhaps Severus would've taught a different class.
It also got me thinking that maybe Lily was the reason Severus experimented so much in his books. Previously, I had assumed, like many in fandom, that she was good at Potions because of Severus, but maybe it was the other way around.
How Potions is taught in Hogwarts is likely very boring for someone like Severus who enjoys being creative. Maybe he started to experiment in class because he was so bored in it. Maybe Lily, who apparently taught him flight, was the one who started experimenting, and encouraged him to do the same. Maybe he started writing in that book for her, and the spells were his main focus and interest.
Maybe if we had some of Severus's other textbooks, we would've seen more notes and experimenting in other classes, like Charms or Transfiguration. Maybe Severus ended up Potions Master, not because it was a passion of his, or his work was remarkable in it, but because the slot was available, and he could do the work.
I also imagine that, if Severus and Harry could use a textbook in class that Eileen Prince used, the textbooks in the magical world do not change the way ours do. I could imagine that, if Severus had invented new recipes and ways of making potions that were better than the textbook version, he wouldn't be allowed to teach those versions. I could easily see Albus insisting that Severus teach the courses the way they've always been taught.
It would be suspicious for a former Death Eater to veer off course. Innovation seems to be shunned in the wizarding world unless it is used for capitalism.
If Severus was forced to teach Potions by the outdated textbooks in ways that didn't make the best version of the Potions, he would hate his job and hate teaching Potions. But he wouldn't be able to leave. It would explain a lot of his foul mood.
In questioning everything about him we think to be true, it is possible that he wasn't a fan of DADA. Perhaps he wrote so much on that exam simply because he usually wrote a foot longer on all his essays. Personally, I suspect that love was genuine. It seems that DADA allows for more creativity, and we know that he enjoyed creativity before he became a Death Eater.
However, since we know he keeps secrets and wears different masks, I could easily see a talented writer spinning a story where Severus hates the Dark Arts and only applied to DADA to keep up appearances.
One of the things that changed for me in my 10+ years fandom break is my view of Severus Snape. A decade ago, 20 didn't seem so young as it seems now. Who I was at 20 is nowhere close to who I was at 38.
Severus started spying at 20. It's possible that the man we see in canon is similar to the man he would be when finally free to be himself, but this time around, I can't help but wonder how much of what we see of Severus Snape is a carefully constructed lie.
I took so much as true the first time around, and this time I'm questioning all of it. Maybe he hates the Malfoys. Maybe he hates Potions. Maybe Professor Snape is just a role for him, a living performance, and he'd act totally different once Voldemort was defeated.
I can see also him, after playing a role nearly half of his life, struggling to figure out who he is and what he wants.
#severus snape#severus snape meta#harry potter#i just keep thinking#we don't actually KNOW severus snape#we just see what he wants us to see
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Hope you doing very good! For the mating press march: need me my favorite emotionally constipated man, Lion. What if his wifey (arranged-bitter-marriage) and him get into a verbal fight and in the heat of the moment they end up having wild animal sex and now they can't get enough of each other??
Love a big grumpy man
Day 21 Year 2: Warnings: Arranged marriages, it's not quite angry animal sex but it is grumpy
Word count: 2704
How the fight got started you didn't even remember, you were just so frustrated with this man.
His insistence that he was right and his inability to read any emotions from you was all so much. Part of you regretted your arrangement with his family. Your world was compliant and safe and you hated it. Not that it was safe but that you'd been pawned off to this man.
You wished he was more like his brothers, but he wasn't. It was like he didn't know how to feel properly and was angry at you for having the power of basic emotional intelligence. Maybe that's where it had gotten heated.
"I don't know what you want from me." He snarled, his voice low, a threat in each syllable. "Well if you learned to listen, you might." You shot back. Lion was so close to just taking you back and bringing the world to heel by force if needed. But it'd been months since the wedding. And the trip would set them back more time then they could afford. "Well I clearly do not know, so you must not have made your point with any form of clarity, woman." Your anger was reaching a boiling point, something had to give. "I've told you I want to be treated like your wife! Not just some person who lives on your ship."
Lion had heard it before, but it wasn't any clearer what you meant by that. Emperor on Terra preserve him; he should have heeded Fulgrim when he came to offer advice in this matter. It was too little too late for that, he wouldn't go crawling back to his brother now, tail between his legs like some whelp. He ran his hands over his face in agitation. "Tell me what, in exact words, it is that you want from me." He growled again. You seemed to deflate, eyes growing wet as you threw up your hands. "How can I be more specific, Lion? You know what married couples do, do you not?" His chest tightened, not only in frustration but in that same damned feeling he got every time you looked ready to cry or did cry. He didn't want you to cry about this, he wanted clarity. "We are married. What more is there to do?"
You looked about ready to deck him, even with the tears burning just below the surface. "Well for one, we don't sleep together, we don't take out meals together, you barely let me spend time with you and when we're together you're angry at me for things I have no say or control over." You scrubbed your hands over your face, wiping away the need to cry, but your voice was tight. "You haven't even touched me, we never consummated our marriage. I feel like we're living in some big joke."
Lion ground his teeth. It made sense, he knew that those on Caliban had had traditions that they observed after a wedding but he'd never taken an interest in it. Now he supposed he should have.
"Very well." He growled, still angry at the other feelings you drew up from the depths of him. Especially when you looked sad or upset. He reached for you, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you in closer.
He understood the rudimentary functions of sex. Every beast on Caliban seemed to do it, so more energetically and frequently than others.
You wanted to smack him. "Not here, we're in a public space." You huffed and Lion felt his anger peaking again. "Then where? Warp damn you just tell me exactly what you want." "Your room, the bed chambers we were supposed to share after you took me as your wife."
It was fairly obvious once he thought about it. Tossing you onto the bed, he tugged off his clothes, you followed suit, undoing the threads that held your corset in place and kicked off your skirts. Lion was every bit as beautiful underneath as you had been expecting, if not more so. But when he looked at you, something changed in his gaze. Something impossible to define. You felt your cheeks heat up as you averted your gaze, laying there bare on his bed. Soon his heat was over you, his skin warm as he pressed his chest to yours. "Well, do you have anything else to complain about? Or may we get this over with?" "You can be such a prick, you know that?" You dragged his face down before he could protest and met him eye to eye. "You could start off with this." Your lips pressed to his. The primarch's body twitched at the sudden touches. But he forced himself to calm, to press his lips back into yours. The start was rough, as you both tried to find a rhythm that suited each other. Lion's body felt hot when you both seemingly figured it out. With a groan he pressed you down into the bed a bit more. His hand looked for the place between your legs where he needed to seat his cock in order to make this work. When he found it he seemed to realize how small you were compared to him. This would take some work, but he was determined now to see this through. Lips still locked he felt your hand slide over his, positioning one finger so it was brushing your entrance before pushing his finger in with a deep moan. He was surprised by the action but allowed you to guide his hand till he understood through feel. This was all new to him, kissing, fingering, he'd never seen any of these behaviors displayed before. Animals didn't kiss, didn't prepare their partners for copulation, they just did it. As he worked his finger he felt your body shifting under him and he broke the kiss to watch, your face was contorted into something that at first he thought was pain. But then you moaned his name, and it was the sweetest sound. He felt your body ease into him, relaxing around the one finger he tested the waters by pressing another one into the opening, listening to you gasp as he pushed it in further, running both along your inner walls. There was an odd patch where the flesh was rough, bumpy instead of smooth, he investigated further. "Fuck, Lion!" You gasped, hips bucking as he pressed there. It was like a switch had flipped. He needed more, needed to hear more and feel more. He kept up the assault until you were a wiggling, incoherent mess below him.
Your thighs clamped around his hand and your body bowed slightly as you let out a shrill cry, muscles tensing. He stopped and waited till you had relaxed again. "That was a good start." You hummed, hand on his shoulder as you guided him back over you, taking his cock in hand. It was fully erect, he hadn't noticed. When had it done that?
Lining him up you urged him forth as your legs on either side of his hips pulled, the stretch was a burning pain, even after he'd prepared you. But you endured, slowly each inch of him slipped inside. It was better than good for him, his teeth grit as he held back from just impaling you on his cock and fucking you until he came to his climax.
He lowered his chest to yours, and allowed you to wrap your arms around him. The anger that had consumed him had faded. Replaced by something new he couldn't describe. You patted his back, grabbing his attention. "Try moving now." He drew his hips back, tortuously slow till the tip of his cock was all that remained inside. You nodded and he slid back in faster by a mere fraction. When he was fully seated he was rewarded with a moan. He kept the slow increase in speed until you whined and raised your hips to meet his thrust, forcing him in. Lion gasped, practically choking on his own spit as the sensation of pleasure washed over him. "That felt.. that was excellent." He sighed softly, confused, maybe there was something to this sex thing after all. You grumbled up at him. "You should pick up the pace then." He grunted and rolled his hips down into yours with more speed and force, intent to make you regret your snark. Instead you both swore, your arms holding him tighter as he wrapped his arms around you to hold you close to him. His hips quickly found a rhythm that you both liked. Your moans and pants mingling in the late evening air. Your name rolled off his tongue sweetly and you wanted to cry again. Not out of sadness or frustration, but pure ecstasy and happiness.
At some point your lips had come back together, tongues fighting for dominance. He won rather quickly.
You came first, body locking around him as you cried his name, it was better than you'd ever managed. Lion's hips guided you through it, fucking you even as you came, his rhythm grew erratic. Hips stuttering as he gave you his first true orgasm. Filling you with his thick cum.
The aftermath was eye opening. "Was that acceptable?" He breathed. "Yes. Very." You rolled onto your side to face him. He watched you wiggle closer until you were on his chest, laying there and kissing him. He wrapped an arm around you, holding you tight as you both fell into a deep peaceful sleep.
Lion woke before you the next morning, his cock hard at the mere sight of you. He woke you with several firm nips to your neck. "Hey, ouch, stop-" He stopped your words with a quick kiss to the mouth as he rolled you under him. His cock sliding home, hands wandering over your body as he fucked you again.
An hour later you were both late to breakfast. Tossing on your clothes from the night before you half expected him to leave you behind. But he stayed by the door until your boots were on and he led you to the dinning hall. Luther met you halfway, likely coming to look for his primarch. The look of undisguised shock when he saw you with the Lion almost made you laugh.
Although the rest of his legion didn't seem nearly as phased, just curious when you joined your husband at the table and ate with him.
You followed him for the rest of the day until it was time for bed. You again expected him to send you off to your separate chambers but he grabbed you before you could stop and enter your room, carrying you back to his bed to sleep for the night. It felt good.
It went on as such for a week. He was approaching a new system with habitable planets. And he would be gone, on a campaign bringing other worlds into compliance if there were people there.
You kissed him awake that morning and felt an odd tug at your hearts at the thought of not seeing him. He held you close, one hand on your hip as his other arm held you tight to his body. "Do you think there will be much fighting with these worlds?" Lion grunted. "I cannot say, anything could happen, we will be prepared for any eventuality." You nodded. "If you have to fight, will you return to the ship often?" "Again, I cannot say. Why do you persist with these questions?" His lips trailed a line of soft kisses up your throat and over your jaw. "Because.." You blushed. "Well, you're my husband. And I want to see you." "You will see me." He replied, sucking a bit of your skin till a dark bruise was left there. "If I am gone for months then you will see me after those months. If I am gone a week then you will see me after that week. It will be how it is, and neither you nor I can change this fact. I have my duties to my father and they must come first." "I know." You drew in a shaky breath. "But I will miss you when you are gone." Lion pulled away to meet your eyes. "You confuse me. At first you could not stand my presence. Now you tell me you will miss it." He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. But he knew that he would miss you as well. "We will make the most of the time we have, and I will vox when there is a lull in combat. If there is indeed any." "I guess you might take over the world peacefully. Like you did mine." You told him. He went back to marking your skin. "Just so long as you don't marry anyone else." "Why? Most Lions have a pride." He teased in a rare moment of humor. But the thought of sharing him made you feel ill.
"So you would be alright if I married a planetary leader's son to bring that world into compliance?" You asked, almost too casually. Lions jaws tightened on a spot over your shoulder and he growled. An honest to goodness growl. Like some terrible forest beast. "No." He responded. "You are mine. I will not share you, not with anyone, not for any reason." He pulled you on top of him, cock pressing your entrance. "Well then I guess we'll both just have to agree that we're only for one another." You smiled and sat on his cock, letting it fill you fully. Lion growled. "What a wretched little thing you are. When I am finished with you you won't need those rings for others to know who you belong to."
The morning was spent much like that. When you could no longer put off the day you went to draw a bath to clean up. Your husband joined you, admiring your form as you sat on the edge of the tub waiting for it to fill.
"I was talking to Luther the other day." You said after a few minutes of quiet, Lion stepped into the tub first and offered you a hand stepping in.
"Oh, and what was it you both had to talk about?" He sat with legs splayed so you could sit between them. You reclined against his back sighing at the warmth of the water. "You." "And what did you two share about me?" "He told me you could sing so beautifully that it would make grown men and women weep to hear it." Lion grunted. "He exaggerates."
You looked up at him, turning to better make eye contact. "Would you sing for me?" You asked. He sighed and grabbed a bar of soap. "I suppose I could. Now sit still and I will wash you."
Luther hadn't been over exaggerating anything. You laid with your head on his chest, just listening as he sang an old folk song from the people who'd found him on Caliban. It was the most heart warmed and wrenched you'd ever been. His voice touched parts of you that were not physical. You were speechless. And when the final restrain wound down to its conclusion you just laid in his arms."Did that suffice?" He asked into the fading echoes of his song. You just sat there dumb founded. "I might need you to sing for me every day." You chuckled lamely. He nodded. "When I am able." It was a promise, and he would honor it for as long as he was able. He felt you relax into him again. How your relationship had evolved so rapidly was still a mystery to him. But he did not savor the idea of being away from you for so long as he had been away in the past. Both of you were fundamentally changed now. He could see it, but it was not a bad change.
He kissed your hair, and returned to bathing you. It was one week till he would be at the first planet in this new system. He would make the most of every moment until then.
#warhammer 40k#warhammer#primarch x reader#warhammer 40k x reader#my writing#mating press march#primarch#lion el'jonson#Lion El'Johnson x reader
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Família Au
Malleus: you remind me a lot of your grand Granddaughter: but uncle says I look like my mother Malleus: and who do you think she looked like? Granddaughter: oh… grandpa, can you tell me about them? about grand MC/reader? Malleus: hehe, well, they were always in trouble, but they weren't troublemakers, in fact, they tried to help those who didn't want to be helped, they always had such interesting conversations and never got tired of hearing me talk about gargoyles, they were very patient… and the first great love of my life… Granddaughter: they seem nice… I wish I had met them Malleus: … you would have liked them
Note: Mc/reader didn't live long enough to see his children get married and have their own families because they 100% human
#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twst#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#disney twst#malleus twst#malleus x reader#twst malleus#malleus draconia#twisted wonderland malleus
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I'm glad you're doing better and I hope it continues! If you're still up for a prompt, something in Elysium's Tears or anything in the story (can't remember the name of it) where the Circle members' children are forced/arranged marriage to downworlders and Alec marries Magnus but then helps him with the antidote to a poison one of his fellow arranged marriage shadowhunters took.
thank you! i had a pretty painful procedure yesterday and slept a lot to recover and am now cackling at my bf's chromebook because I love plotting this fic and poor Magnus is having a Time with his shadowhunters spouse.
the verse you're talking about with the arranged marriage is the bitter trap of truth and is a fairly intense universe because Shadowhunters/nephilim marry downworlders in accordance to a treaty but really for the sole purpose of sowing discord and killing themselves and Alec is just like.... 'uhm no one said my spouse would be a husband? and that he would be this magical so i'm disrespectfully resigning from the clave and can no longer complete my mission to die. i need to live so I can be the best lair-husband ever.'
in the meantime, Magnus is keeping his gorgeous, shadowhunter husband if he has to fight the clave, death and etc to do it. he also (very understandably) has a hard time trusting Alec, his actions and motivations because what if this is an elaborate plot. Magnus would be devastated and while he'll keep Alec either way he also just doesn't want to do anything that will put him in a position of Alec betraying him.
i hope you enjoy <3
Lumine
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tw suicide/murder mentions/idealation (specifically in service to the clave)
the bitter trap of truth
“Magnus, I can just stay here. I don’t actually need to go with you.”
Alexander’s voice breaks through the dark turn Magnus thoughts have taken and he looks over to see his husband lounging on the window seat. The book he is reading lies lax, threatening to slip from his fingertips as his attention focuses on Magnus.
The weight of Alexander’s gaze is nearly as delicious as the thrum of Magnus’ blood claiming Alexander from within. It flows through his body with a possessive fervor that often leaves Magnus greedily reaching to caress the imprint of Alexander’s being upon his senses.
Alexander continues to break every possible expectation Magnus dares to have of him, even in matters like this. Alexander should want to go, he should be pleading and cajoling and manipulating Magnus into taking him as this evening will be one of the rare places he’ll be around and allowed to interact with other nephilim. Magnus has heard horror stories of just the kind of arguments and cold wars refusing to bring a nephil spouse to these banquets can incur.
Yet, since the invitation first arrived in a flare of fire Alexander has been downright docile about the topic. The first moment Magnus showed hesitancy in taking him, he’d seemed more pleased than upset, more interested in finding a new book to read than finding out who he could connect with.
“If it were that simple, we’d both stay here.” Magnus sighs and reaches out to feel the pulse of his own blood in Alexander’s veins. “And yet the Elder’s have requested I bring you,” he explains as he studies Alexander. “I think they expect me to make you something of a statement or a possible moral booster.”
It goes without saying that Alexander is the highest ranking shadowhunter who married out and is still alive.
Alexander is quiet, soft amusement in his eyes as he follows Magnus’ every movement.
“Despite how often you like to dress me up, you rarely have me meet anyone besides those closest to you.” It’s not a question but Magnus hums in agreement, it would be ridiculous and disappointing if Alec pretended he wasn’t aware. “You can tease that it’s because of how much you want to hide me away, but we both know the target I’ve had on my back since we married. Events like these are almost always when a nephilim dies. By their own hand or the so-called mercy of another nephilim. I know why you’re worried, Magnus.”
Every time Alexander speaks so openly, Magnus is stunned all over again, his heart racing with freshly piqued interest even as the thought of death claiming Alexander from him chills his blood.
“You think I’ll let you die?” Magnus asks, voice low and harsh with the surge of anger that overtakes the fear filling him at the thought. He closes the space between them and reaches out, cupping Alexander’s jaw and tilting his head up to meet his eyes. “Do you think, Alexander, that you are allowed to die without my permission?”
“No.” And Alexander turns into his grip, lips pressing in a soft, reverent kiss to his palm. “But I think it’s what everyone else expects and something that you have a right to be concerned about. Regardless of my own wishes, it wouldn’t be surprising for an attending nephilim to try and offer me mercy. Either by orders of the Clave or their own misguided sense of kinship.”
Alexander is both soothing Magnus’ ire while simultaneously fanning the flames of his rage.
“If I have to go, then you should do whatever you need to do to feel confident and secure in my safety. In the fact that I won’t leave your side or willingly place myself in danger. That I won’t go anywhere you can’t follow or watch over me.”
“Oh? Whatever I want?” Magnus asks, curving his tongue around the delicacy of the offer, the knowledge that Alexander will simply let Magnus do as he wishes.
“Anything, Magnus. Whatever will help, I’m already yours aren’t I? Do you think I mind that being proven to the world? That I’ll mind the entirety of the Shadowworld understanding where I stand? My position in this relationship was made clear the moment I survived both our wedding night and the month that followed. The Clave has figured out by now now that I want to survive, that I want to live as long as it’s with you.”
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alec: more than happy to stay home and read up on how to clean a magical lair and feed your incredibly handsome warlock husband
magnus: one: I don't want to leave you alone for longer than ten minutes and two: i'm supposed to show you off. the problem is showing you off while letting everyone know 'do not approach, do not look at, don't talk to, don't breathe near etc...'
alec: sounds more than reasonable. so why don't you just do whatever you need to feel better about my safety
magnus: .... whatever?
alec: yeah, anything that you'd like
magnus: ... no take backs!
#lumine writes#writing wednesday#writing wednesdays#the bitter trap of truth#malec#shadowhunters#magnus bane#alec lightwood
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S03E04 Thoughts
I've watched it 4 times now and I keep seeing new stuff. Thoughts under cut for some book spoilers.
Mieren!!! And her mention of Lews in her reasoning. The Bore is *not* about power to all. That's justification. She's one of the elite, extremely powerful and priveleged in her own right. She's rightfully pissed about everything that happened with Lews, but she clearly wants to be his equal. Making *everyone* equal is just a side effect. The bit about "it feels good to bring in the harvest with your own hands" feels very much like a person in power making decisions for the masses without taking what they want into account. I'm not saying she was wrong to want to even the playing field. I just think her motives are less altruistic than she plays them off as. Also, the Mieren name drop makes me increasingly confident we're going to get the wonderfully delicious moment of surprise from her when Rand calls her by that name.
Aviendha recoiling from the dragon marks was such a good detail. Not only is her fear that he really is the Car'a'carn confirmed, but also she *just* went through the rings and all the possible futures that entails. She's still reeling from those revelations. Seems like we're probably getting the cold shoulder era leading up to the igloo if I had to guess.
Rand seeing his mothers face for the first time but she's dead and experiencing his father's anguish at the loss of her and himself is just brutal. There can never be anymore doubt for him about where he comes from. And to know for absolute certain that he was wanted and missed. The truth can only complicate his feelings about Tam. It's such a sweet flip on the Aiel pain of learning their past. He cannot understand their trauma at learning of the broken oaths, but he has his own trauma to face. And he sees it, too. It's clear from his short talk with Aviendha. Rand has darkness and madness and terrible decisions ahead, but I think we're going to see some maturity developing in him going forward.
Moggy being the only other Forsaken in the dark squad is super interesting. I can only wonder at the circumstances that would have her and Lanfear working together. It's also interesting that it's all of the EF5, not just the channelers, so they couldn't have been Turned, at least not all of them. As so many others have said, damn they all look hot. I want bts of all those fits.
Moiraine talking about the fog and being almost able to see weaves in it. Could possibly be a reference to inverted weaves? Would also have to be tied off. Easter egg? Or foreshadowing that we'll be getting those plotlines later?
Speaking of Moiraine, absolutely heartbreaking to watch them realizing together how closely tied they are, seeing that despite everything between them they do both care a great deal about each other as people, but that it doesn't matter because they are agents of fate. People like to over-simplify their relationship as something akin to mother/son, but I think it's so much more complicated than that. They're family after a sort, but their primary tension is in relating as people vs agents of the wheel. When Rand says "you've never helped me", she can't understand that he's saying she's never helped Rand the person. She's a zealot that has never been able to see past him being the Dragon. No matter their love for each other, their individual needs and wants are diametrically opposed. There's a gap between them that can never be crossed, and now they both know it.
I did not mean to write this much, but this episode has set my brain on fire.
#wheel of time#wheel of time show#the wheel of time#wheel of time spoilers#wheel of time season 3#Wheel of time book spoilers#rand al'thor#moiraine damodred#lanfear
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I don't know if this is really an anti booktok question as such, but what do you think fanfiction might look like, now that authors are writing published books that come across as fanfiction? I think it's an interesting phenomenon and honestly kind of concerning because fanfiction is, well, free. But now people who've never read fanfiction are splashing money on these books for tropes and plots that fanfiction authors have been writing for decades and I feel like fanfiction authors are kind of...being disrespected because the only things they give are their time and passion, meanwhile we have published books being written in these ways (usually) solely for money. I wonder if fanfiction will end up being written more like the standards we apply to published books (though I think the tropey fanfictions that were unwillingly commercialised won't be going away any time soon).
My perspective is that of a fanfic author (who hates Booktok) so take this with several grains of salt.
I think the fanfic vs Booktok phenomenon is hugely interesting. I find it so funny that the people who praise Booktok again and again for their, quite frankly, shitty writing, mountains of tropes and vanilla characters are the same who think that fanfiction is cringe and shame it for the exact same thing they like. It's turned these tropey things that fans like to indulge in into something popular, while excluding the fans that who wrote these fanfics.
Fanfic originally was used to subvert the tropes of mainstream media (often the media they were writing fanfic of) usually with amateur writing that was meant to be enjoyed not praised. However, with recent Booktok authors using fanfic as a template for their books, they dilute the quality of the works being published, because their goal isn't to write something good, or even to communicate a perspective, but rather to find an audience and find an audience alone. Books lose their individuality and even fear broaching political topics in fear of being disagreed with, unpopularised or cancelled (Rather ironic, since writing has historically been a very political medium).
Also, fanfic has been a haven for POC, disabled, queer people (literally anyone who isn't white, Christian, abled, rich... you get the idea) because it allows them to tell stories that would otherwise not get heard because promoting those topics aren't considered marketable (which is so weird to me but then again discrimination doesn't surprise me). With Booktok, authors took these stories of people being discriminated and wrote a half baked fanfic of their work that can be used to ask the question "wait, is discrimination...bad?" without actually asking it, giving the opinion of the author, or going in depth with it. (To be clear, I have no problem with metaphors and analogies, but it seems to me nowadays that instead of using metaphors to communicate new ideas with ease to a reader, they're used to reiterate old themes without being controversial). Authors love an underdog story, until the underdog character in question is you know... actually discriminated against IRL.
I really, really don't like the state of literature right now. I do agree that fanfic authors (well, at least me) tend to feel pressure to write more novel-length, high quality stories rather than just indulge in fanfic. The pressure mainly comes from "(insert bestselling book of the early 2000s) was initially a fanfic and it was so good, so all fanfic should adhere to that quality!" for obvious reasons, there are several things wrong with this. 1. the book they're refereeing to usually aren't that good but nostalgia keeps them from believing otherwise, and 2. these books still go through a fair bit of editing before they get published. While the editing might not change the trope or story itself entirely it enhances writing and helps with spelling errors and add to the small stuff that really make a difference. Fic readers except every fic they come across to be a 100k word slowburn with their favourite characters and their favourite tropes, and this puts the pressure on fic writers to write for the readers instead of themselves, which loses the essence of fanfic entirely (not to mention, authors nowadays have this pressure too, because of how intertwined fanfic and publishing is becoming).
Personally, I love reading the tropey fanfics that people consider bad. I like writing for myself, for the ships I like, for the fandom I like, for the length I want to and choosing whether or not I should finish a piece of work people have no right to complain about. It's free, and as the golden rule of fandom goes: don't like, don't read. I'd like to add another: don't expect. Fanfic isn't tailored for anyone except the writer. And that's how it should be! Creative expression without worrying about being good lit or not. A shame what trad publishing and fanfic has become.
Thank you so much for the ask! I must admit, it has been a while but I'm grateful for the Booktok question, especially a fanfic-related one where I can talk about my opinions as a fic writer, LOL.
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OK WAIT HOLD ON EVERYONE SHUT UP WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THIS??
In this scene, our Ekko just woke up in an alternate timeline. This is the frame where he sees Benzo, his father figure who's dead in his reality. Obviously he's in shock. He doesn't know where he is, what's going on, he's seeing his dead dad, probably a million thoughts running through his head. In response to seeing Ekko like this, Benzo says:
"One of those days, huh?" I'm sorry, WHAT????? WHAT DOES HE MEAN ONE OF THOSE DAYS???? Then Powder says
"You know those ugly twins, genius and madness!" It's clear she's saying this to redirect the focus off of Ekko, dude needs a moment and she sees that. What's interesting to me is Benzo isn't at all shocked that Ekko is having a moment. Powder saying the line above also implies this isn't out of the ordinary. The ugly twins Powder's talking about are likely akin to an angel and devil on his shoulders, two halves of a whole that make up Ekko. This sudden moment of panic that he's having is regular enough that Powder and Benzo consider it a sort of side effect to his intelligence. The FASCINATING part of this implication is that it mirrors his world's Jinx. In his reality, Jinx is the crazy genius who has 'those days'. If Ekko in this reality is the one who experiences that 'craziness' then not only does that mean Ekko and Powder are reflections of each other, but it means something's CAUSED Ekko to have a 'madness' side to him. In our reality, Jinx is 'crazy' due to the trauma and brainwashing she goes through with the death of her loved ones and being used as a weapon by Silco. There are some signs in season 1 arc 1 that Powder could've had a chemical imbalance even before that, but we can see through this other Powder that she would've turned out mostly ok. In the nearly perfect reality of this alternate timeline, what could've caused Ekko to be the 'crazy one'? In my mind, there are two possibilities. The first one being, he's traumatized from causing Vi's death. He didn't kill her, and everyone around him knows that, but he still thinks it's his fault for giving them the tip to steal from Jayce, which lead to Vi's death. If he hadn't given them the tip, they never would've gone there and Vi wouldn't have died. This would also line up with the mirror dynamic, as Jinx in our reality thinks Vander, Milo, and Clagger's deaths are her fault. The guilt of it has driven him mad just as it did her. This makes other interactions make sense as well. Powder inviting Ekko to go see Vi, (she probably does this to help Ekko cope when he's having these episodes) Then he turns to her and says "Was it you" and you see how upset she is. She looks as if she has something to say, but holds back and walks off instead. What if she was thinking "What? No, it was your fault???" Or maybe she does secretly think it was her fault too and her helping the guy who feels the same way is her way of coping, making it all the more insulting that he'd accuse her just cus he's having an episode. She's very willing to forgive him because she understands his psychological struggles. That brings me to possibility 2. What if Ekko was always crazy? What if Ekko has dealt with a chemical imbalance and struggled with that madness on top of his trauma? Just like Jinx. The only reason we actually get to see that madness on display for this Ekko is because our Ekko never has a moment to show that side of him. He's never allowed a moment to think to himself or at the very least we never see it. With Jinx, we get tons of scenes with her madness on full display. If Ekko had similar struggles in our reality just not as severe or noticeable, then in comparison to Jinx, he seems completely fine. These small implications of the alternate timeline tells me that we had it wrong. Ekko is also crazy and always has been. THAT'S why he's able to get to Jinx and understand her, accept her for who she is when Vi couldn't. It's also possible his hatred for Jinx in season 1 may have been him projecting his issues onto her. He knows what that madness looks like and he fears that if he doesn't keep his together, he could end up like Jinx. It's only until he sees the other Powder, sees the way she understands him and is there for him, that he realizes that he is worthy of love and compassion, madness and all. Only then does he accept himself for who he is and is able to accept Jinx for who she is. Accepting Jinx as Jinx and loving her madness and all, was part of him accepting himself too.
#you could honestly replace all of the mentions of 'crazy' or 'madness' with bpd or stpd#or whatever you personally hc Jinx or Ekko to have#i just didn't wanna say a specific one#since that's not what this post is about#generalizing isn't great but#makes it easier to get thoughts across ykwim#oh and i forgot to mention#main difference between#powder and jinx#is that one is high masking w a good support system#the other doesn't#anyway tags#arcane#jinx#ekko#powder#arcane spoilers#arcane season 2#arcane league of legends#arcane jinx#arcane ekko#timebomb#jinx and ekko
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What do you think about the secret quotes?
At this point, I'm fairly certain that not everyone will say theirs, seeing as Ace didn't.
Xander had a literal definition, so I kinda assumed that was the reason why he didn't say it, but now I think that maybe these quotes are just meant to give us a general idea of what X character is feeling.
And that Min saying hers might just be a coincidence?
It’s kinda crazy I’ve never done a post specifically about these things, given I tend to bring them up every other DRDT post lol. But I guess it’s probably a good idea to have some kind of thoughts on them written down lol. Let's get into it!
Spoilers for DRDT CH2. CW: Mass death due to sickness, survivor’s guilt, trust issues, murder, suicidal thoughts, self-harm
While I imagine most people on my blog will know what this is about, in case anyone isn’t aware; the secret quotes in question are quotes hidden in the source code of the characters’ individual pages from the cast list.
Look, that’s Teruko’s!
If you’re interested in what other secrets this series holds, you can check my secrets masterpost!
For a while, it was believed that everyone would, at one point or another, say their secret quote aloud (bar maybe Xander, as his is a bit of an awkward thing to say like melownooo said in the ask). This was mainly believed during the CH2 Pt1 - Pt2 hiatus, as both Min and Arei had said theirs either before death or in a flashback. However, with Xander’s being strange to say and Ace failing to say his before death, it’s looking more likely that only some of them will say their lines (though Ace can always say his in a flashback or Bonus Episode maybe), as the asker here brings up. So, let’s see the lines, and try to figure out what each of them could mean!
Teruko: It is an equal failing to trust everybody, and to trust no one at all.
Very straightforward, as this is most likely the message Teruko will arrive at with her character arc. Going from trusting a little at the start of the series, then trusting no one for most of CH2, only to realize that not trusting anyone is hampering her ability to solve the mystery in the second trial, our protag is on a bit of a trust rollercoaster. Presumably, this quote shows the attitude she’ll end up with at the end of the series, and may even say the line out loud as a climactic moment!
Xander: survivor guilt(n): feelings of guilt for having survived a catastrophe in which others died.
I didn’t check all of them myself, but this seems to be the only quote without capitalization, funnily enough. A character so deadset on challenging convention that even his secret quote doesn’t follow grammar rules, truly an Ultimate Rebel!
Jokes aside, this obviously refers to what we learn of him in his Bonus Episode, Visiting Graves. He was away when his entire hometown died due to some kind of sickness, and feels survivor's guilt over that. Though if you want me to do my thing and read way too much into it...
Even beyond the irony of the character with survivor’s guilt being the first to die, this could be taken as a hint that he survived more than just the Chariton incident. That could refer to something relating to Mai’s presumed death, given the connection those two had, or even a whole previous killing game. However, that’s much more speculative, and the Chariton incident is enough to explain the quote in its entirety anyways, so.
Charles: If you forgot it, then it probably wasn’t important to begin with. None of those memories should ever be kept, anyway.
Obviously an ironic statement, given Charles’ childhood amnesia. This is one of the ones which feels strange coming out of Charles’ mouth as a result, and would maybe work better if it’s said to Charles, as opposed to him saying it to someone else. Not that the latter wouldn’t work at all, but y’know.
In any case, the meaning for Charles is the same. It’s meant to be ironic, as Elliot was clearly important to Charles to some extent and Charles forgot him anyways. It’s been said in Q&A that Charles doesn’t like cutting his hair short, presumably because he likes looking like Elliot through subconscious stuff, and there was something about Charles wanting to learn to cook pancakes and Elliot cooking pancakes when he was alive (I think; my memory’s not perfect and I don’t feel like looking all this up. Would be very funny if I misremember anything in this quote in particular though lol). However, Charles might be resistant to that idea, because it would be a pretty harrowing thing if he’s forgotten something important.
Ace: I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.
I mean that’s just Ace in a nutshell. I talked in my CH2 Pt2 analysis about how the theme of control over his life is an important theme of his character, so… I’ll just copy paste from there lol.
…he feels he completely lacks control of his life, that it's all decided by a fate he can't control, the same way that a jockey doesn't walk on their own, but rather is carried by a horse to their destination. And it's no wonder that this feeling of lacking control is referenced in his secret quote, "I don’t know what to do with myself anymore." After all, it's this feeling of lacking control of himself and his situation that causes him to seek control of anything he can, be it bullying Nico because he sees them as an easy target, distancing himself from others because it's easier to control his feelings that way, killing someone because it's the only way he can control his place in the killing game, or anything else I might be forgetting. And this fear of lacking control is probably part of his fear of death, isn't it? Because no one can control what happens after death.
Yeah that lol.
Arei: Because that’s what friends do.
This is one of the two that got said!
This line is basically the culmination of Arei’s arc (alongside “let’s be less shitty together”). Here’s the full context so we can see exactly what friends do in Arei’s opinion.
Arei [2-10]: So I’ll prove [that I’m being genuine] to you! I’m going to be your friend! And I’ll do nice things for you! Anything at all! Eden: H-Huh? Arei: Don’t underestimate me! I can be a good person too! Being a good person means doing nice things. So if there’s anything you need from me… Whether it’s defending you from scary jerks like Arturo or baking some stupid fucking cake… I’ll do it. I promise. I’ll do anything for you. Okay? Eden: I… Arei: Because…Because… Because that’s what friends do.
Being a “good person” and being Eden’s friend are intertwined concepts in Arei’s mind, and “being a good person means doing nice things” is part of the entire message of the chapter (though slightly simplified), you get the idea. The resolution of doing “what friends do” is the culmination of Arei’s development, no wonder it’s her secret quote!
Rose: In the end, the only thing I can do is watch my wretched life go on.
I’ve talked about this one a lot too… Though I feel like you can say that about quite a few of these lol. The point here is that Rose is resigned to her fate due to her situation with the Spurling Foundation, as she doesn’t feel like her life can improve. Something something her character design literally has her irreversibly stained with mistakes of the past something something. This one’s straightforward.
Hu: I want to pay for what I’ve done. But even then, I still want to live.
One of the most cryptic ones by far, as we currently have no idea what this is referring to. We know of little that Hu has done that she’d need to pay for, that she’d also need to bring up the possibility of dying in the same breath. The main theory here is that Hu will eventually become a blackened, and that she’ll feel horrible about it but still want to survive. But of course, we have no idea if that will really happen, as this could also refer to literally anything else.
That aside, though, Hu’s steadfast desire to live is interesting in the context of her having been suicidal in the past. It’s clear that Hu is not suicidal during current killing game time, and in fact has very strong feelings towards David’s actions and how they would have led to everyone’s death. Thus, this quote more so seems to reinforce the theme of metamorphosis that Hu’s got going on with her butterfly motif, among other stuff. She used to not want to live, and now does. Yay for improvement!
Eden: You can’t go back, no matter how hard you try.
Another cryptic one! While there’s an obvious connection to Eden through her talent (time only moves forward, so the Clockmaker saying “you can’t go back” makes thematic sense), it seems like a strange thing for someone of Eden’s personality to say. She definitely believes in people’s ability to change and fix the mistakes of the past, if her desire to befriend Teruko and willingness to accept the possibility of Arei becoming friends with her as well is any indication. So, how bad did someone fuck up for Eden to say this to them? Or is this something someone else will say to Eden, similar to what I said about the Charles quote? Very unclear for now. So all I can really bring to the table for now is the thematic connection via talent :p
Levi: I always believed that a person is defined by their actions alone. But maybe that’s just a poor excuse for my heartlessness.
Do I… need to explain this one? Levi might as well have straight up said this during his 2-13 backstory drop. He feels little to no empathy, so naturally he defines people by actions alone. But he’s also admitted to not understanding people very well, so it makes sense that he’d hesitate on this belief, as he can only infer what makes a “good person” from the opinions of others. Don’t get me wrong, I do think he’s right that people are defined by actions, I’m just saying it makes sense he’s not confident in that.
Arturo: You hated them, but even that doesn’t justify what you did.
Another one that feels like it’s said to Arturo as opposed to him saying it, as the “them” in the quote could refer to his parents. “You hated your parents, but that doesn’t justify abandoning your sister”, or something like that. Without knowing the situation, it’s hard to say how fair that is, but y’know. Like with Charles, if Arturo’s meant to be the one saying this/having this attitude, then there’s still the irony that Arturo accidentally harmed someone because he hated someone else, so he’s not all that qualified to be saying this. Without more context, it’s hard to say exactly how it’ll come into play, so I’ll leave it there for now.
Min: I wanted to save you.
I actually find this one particularly interesting. One, because I’m biased. Two, because at first glance, it’s a weird thing to focus on in Min’s character. This is a line she says, so we know the full context; she’s expressing that killing Xander was a spur of the moment decision made explicitly to save Teruko, with Min choosing to cover up the murder only after she realized he’d died.
Thing is, though… it might seem hard to call this the culmination of her character the way secret quotes like Arei’s sometimes feel like. Now, not every quote is related to the central theme of the character or anything (I would argue there’s more important things to Xander than his survivor’s guilt, for example), but… really? We didn’t have any better lines? Nothing about mistakes being corrected, per her trial 1 speech? Nothing about competition, which relates to her motive secret? Nothing about feeling like the course of her life was decided years ago when XF-Ture Tech came knocking? Just the yuri line? Alright.
However, I do think there’s some good angles you can see the line from, where you could argue it encapsulates Min growing beyond what’s expected of her talent, and those angles are why I still think this quote is pretty good overall. Mainly, you could relate it to the idea that saving Teruko is one of the most important decisions Min makes without influence from XF-Ture or Hope’s Peak. No one told her to do that, yet she decided to do it anyways. Not only that, but this represents one of the fiercest competitors in the cast participating in the killing game not to win it, but for the benefit of someone else. The quote also calls attention to her murder, which in turn leads to all her foils with Xander, which I won’t repeat here because I’ve talked like 15000 times about the ridiculous amount of ways these two foil (I’ll link to my recap foil post if you’re interested and haven’t seen it). So, despite what it may look like at first, it’s a perfectly awesome secret quote!
Yes this is just an excuse to ramble about Min. No I’m not apologizing.
David: I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. I wish you could just die.
Hm… I wonder what this could possibly mean. What kind of message are we supposed to get from this quote? It’s very subtle and intricate and- yeah I can drop the bit now.
This one’s very funny because of how direct it is, but it’s easy to understand. David hates someone. There’s a couple of people who he hates, so it’s easy to imagine him going off at any of them at any given time now that he’s had his heel turn. My bet’s on Teruko, though Whit and Xander (see: "I hate the things I love and I love the things I hate" LGI scene) are good dark horses in that race, maybe. Or Hu, or I could see Arturo, maybe Charles… yeah it really could be anyone lol.
If you want a more thematic reading, just... watch LGI lol. David's just a massive hater overall, makes sense this is his quote.
Veronika: Once something is broken, it can never be pieced together in quite the same way again. The same goes for people.
This one’s very intriguing. Obviously, one must ask whether she’s referring to herself being broken, or someone else, as both are possible. I’m leaning towards her talking about herself, as we know for a fact she used to be a bit of a different person in the past, both because of her motive secret (she used to self-harm and took on her talent to stop that) and because of her comments claiming she used to be a bit more outdoorsy. Thus, it follows that there may have been some kind of event in her past that changed her in what she feels is an irreversible way. Something something recap foils with Hu something something. There’s little else I can analyze here without more context on Vero, so we’re leaving it there!
J: Please don’t call me your daughter ever again.
I wonder who she’s talking about!
Yeah obviously this is just about how much J hates her mother. Really all I can comment on is the fact that J has never outright disowned Mariabella like this in the series yet, just expressing dislike towards her mother instead of trying to deny their relationship altogether. I imagine it’s just a matter of expression and doesn’t mean anything else, but y’know, I’ll point it out just in case it comes up.
Whit: We tend to idolize the dead.
Another one about a mom! We all know how much Whit wants to be like his mother, to the point of dying his hair to look like hers, and pretending she’s still alive to the point he forgets she’s actually dead when the secret Rose received is revealed. I could see him both saying this, and this being said to him. No idea what the context will be if and when it’s said, though; a lot of people die in this series, so there’s a lot of people who could potentially get idolized lol.
Nico: Why should I own up for the mistakes that someone else made?
Many people I think expected them to say it at some point in the second trial, with the idea that Ace was the one who made a mistake by pushing Nico's buttons and Nico wouldn’t be the one in the wrong in their mind. However, that doesn’t seem to be the case at all. Nico owns up to their murder attempt, acknowledges it as a mistake, and outright claims not to be a victim. Thus, this cannot be the interpretation we’re meant to take with the quote, in my opinion.
Because of that, I assume this is actually referring to something else entirely. However, we have no idea what the hell that could be. Nothing we know about Nico’s backstory fits this idea, and with the Ace murder attempt out of the picture, there’s nothing in the killing game this could refer to yet. I guess maybe if someone tries to blame them for Ace killing Arei? But they all know that makes no sense, since Ace was already planning to kill Eden even before Nico tried to murder him, so probably not.
We really need more context to know what exactly this refers to, so I’ll leave it at that for now :v
MonoTV: Her name is Mai Akasaki.
This is more for ARG-y purposes, as (if I understand how this went correctly) this is how you’re supposed to get to the “All you have to do” page by typing Mai’s name in an URL, and from there the AOAVIEPKRO code for the Mai character page itself. Still, this obviously implies Mai is an important character who is likely connected to the killing game in some way; in other news, grass is green.
Speaking of the “All you have to do” page, there is a hidden quote in that source code as well.
Are you still searching for a secret? For some explanation that will satisfy you? There’s no answer I can give you that will make you happy. Maybe I should have lied instead. I’m sorry.
If you really want to read into it, you could argue that this implies that any truth about Mai would make us sad, presumably because her story has a sad ending; in other news, the sky is blue.
Oh and if you’re interested in my take about the secret text which used to be in the About Page you can find it in this post here.
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And that’s about it! These quotes are fun. Thanks for the ask! Good excuse to finally make this long overdue post lol.
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You werent just an artist but you also were your own work of art, it was how Adrian saw you.
Your room was surrounded with works of art made by your very hands, the same hands that caressed his soul just the way his soul caressed yours.
Everytime he walked into your room, it felt like walking into a cathedral with paintings of glory etched into the ceiling, how people’s eyes would forever be glued there.
He felt euphoric to ever have your love, how you turned him immortal once again through your art.
He made sure to kiss your tired hands everyday for the works spent created by it, your forehead for your ideas and your eyes, the true work of art.
You sighed in weariness, placing the paintbrush down, you were halfway done with the painting of a river but it was the 5th river painting you made, you were stuck, and its breaking your heart, you’ve lost your spark for the past few days, you couldnt find any ideas left.
you got up from your seat to exit your room, you stopped at the threshold of the entrance before finding yourself turning back, looking at your works.
you sighed. Where had your spark gone?
Then, you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist, it was adrian’s, of course it was, his skin was as soft as silk, he was well groomed, but you..
“Weary, my love?” He murmured into your neck, pressing a gentle peck to your skin.
“I..” you trail off before turning to him. “Dont know.. i cant seem to even function anymore, i’ve lost my creativity, i cant even arch my back and fix my posture when i paint, when i look at beautiful scenery i cant bring myself to even paint it because it is not ad interesting as i paint, i’ve lost it..”
His gaze softened at you, immediately, he knew the reason why you’re weary, you had been overworking yourself for the past few days, in rush of art, almost draining every bits of energy in you that you felt like an empty page of a writer’s book who lost complete ideas.
You looked up at him, your arms instinctively holding onto his pale forearms.
His hands gently kneaded your waist before pulling you close, your forehead being met with his tender lips.
“i understand how you feel, y/n, my love. This is because of overworking yourself, this is because you took all of your ideas and rush them into an art piece that you completely drain yourself whilst doing so,” he pressed his forehead against yours, kissing your tears away. “You are stressing yourself out, your negative thoughts completely blurring your mind out, your ideas being completely veiled by your thoughts. I’m going to take care of you now, enough of your antics—“
“But—“
“My sweet love, would you possibly want to end up in this slump forever?”
You remained quiet, your head lowering before his index finger lifted your chin, pressing a gentle kiss at the top of your lip.
“Allow me to let you bask into solitude, just for a while, okay?” He whispered against your lips. “You are a work of art as well.. my work of art, and right now, you are losing your color..”
You couldnt help but nod, letting yourself melt into his arms like paint, allowing him to paint you into that masterpiece again, its his turn with the paintbrush.
A/N: for those lovely artists who is in artblock! Heres some comfort, i hope this soothes your weary and exhausted souls, know that you are seen and your efforts are admired just like you.
#adrian tepes x reader#alucard castlevania#adrian tepes#castlevania#castlevania alucard#castlevania nocturne#castlevania alucard x reader#adrian fahrenheit tepes
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