#i do not know of any solution to the obvious problem presented here. but Man

[ebonivory]

Hate that one poem about AI going around. Yes you should write your own essays and other schoolwork with no caveats, both for the sake of exercising your brain consistently and also so we can be assured knowing the next generation of workers, like, actually knows about the field they're working in. But then it's capped off with "love is for the ones who love the work" and it's like girl whatever

[talenlee]

4e: The Power Of Love

If you listen to me talking about 4th edition Dungeons & Dragons, especially when I talk about building characters and Owlbear Traps, to come away with the impression that the game was reasonably balanced and presents players with an even grouping of choices that mean it’s hard for a character to make a character that doesn’t work.

This is not fair; after all, for all that 4e is a lot more even and more balanced than 3e was, for all that you can in fact grab any class, any heritage, and any basic combination of the components the rulebook tells you to use — like, if you make a wizard it tells you to grab a staff, orb, or wand, and get a good intelligence — that higher floor does not change the fact that the game is full of some absolutely pants choices made for weird reasons that bely a strange thought underneath them.

Huey Lewis & The News - The Power Of Love (Official Music Video)

Watch this video on YouTube

For example, there’s the Power of Love:

When you use a power associated with this feat (Radiant Vengeance, Recovery Strike, Sun Strike, Virtuous Strike) and hit one or more enemies with it, you grant 5 temporary hit points to one or two allies within 5 squares of you. The temporary hit points increase to 10 at 11th level and 15 at 21st level.

I’ve spoken in the past about the way that Dungeons & Dragons tries to regard ‘love’ in a sort of soppy way. Largely, gods of love in conventional settings are afterthoughts, and the love domain back when it got its own identity in 3rd edition was just a healer’s toolkit. There’s a ton of stuff wrapped up in that, which is either so obvious as to be boring to you, or really needs a ton of bedrock explanation to help you understand it, and therefore, I will provide a bulleted list:

Traditionally, fantasy narratives gender power and agency, with typically, masculine roles, including the most valorised role being the most masculine one (a prince, a king, some variety of what you might call a sigma male or whatever).

This led to a void of women in these stories, and that presented a problem for the storytellers who wanted to fulfill the wholeness of the masculine gender fantasy of putting their penis in something high value.

Therefore, women were added to fantasy genre media.

Since these women needed things to do, there were two options; you make her do the thing the man does but worse (because like, she couldn’t be better) or you find something unrelated she can do that makes her desireable and useful but not like, inconvenient for the man.

The solution was to present her with the task of healing, which served double duty, because now she was important and worth protecting, she should be present in the battle to do her job, but also, she couldn’t do her thing until he does his thing and that means that she’s literally there to serve him,

And all this just coincidentally and for no actual reason at all, aligns with pre-existing assumptions about things women are for and therefore must like to do?

Fastforward through this a few thousand times as people continually assert that they’d know if they had any societally induced biases in their relationships to the media they enjoy, and you wind up here, where we are and have been for a few centuries, because it turns out that dudes have been really good at setting up and propogating a system that asserts their job is to be the main characters and it’s just the natural order, after all, look at all this long history of dudes telling them exactly the same thing. There’s all this other feminine stuff (as said by dudes) gets lumped together.

I’m joking, but not much.

This means that Love is one of those things that girls are allowed to do, and therefore, Love is essentially, healer shit. It’s not about helping people forge bonds, it’s not about being better at learning about people long term. Bear in mind that this is a pretty sucky bag of deals for the prospective Paladin of Love (or Avenger of Love, which sounds sick as fuck, shame the game doesn’t back it up) but it’s actually better than previous iterations on the idea that sometimes thought that it was even better to put ‘mind control’ effects under love.

You know, remember what we said about love potions?

The feat isn’t just bad because it’s timid about what you can do with love, though, no no no. It’s also really weak. Because, hey, guess what, I lied to you. You see up there? Where I said what the Power of Love feat did?

When you use a power associated with this feat (Radiant Vengeance, Recovery Strike, Sun Strike, Virtuous Strike) and hit one or more enemies with it, you can choose to deal no damage and instead grant 5 temporary hit points to one or two allies within 5 squares of you. The temporary hit points increase to 10 at 11th level and 15 at 21st level.

That’s right, you don’t get to do this as part of your attacking. You get to do this instead of attacking. At that point you have to measure the math of whether taking an enemy out with the attack prevents more damage than these temporary hit points represent. There are places this works! There are absolutely places where that math is easy to do!

But god what a miserable choice! Hey, Paladin of Love, you can give up doing the thing everyone is doing, and instead turn yourself into a hit point dispenser for other people. It’s proactive damage prevention, rather than healing, so we circumvent part of that awful paradigm of Girls Do Heals, but it’s still fundamentally rubbish because, remember, you spent a feat and a god choice on this!

Here’s the thing, the punchline such as it is. Power of Love is a terrible feat. It’s a feat that you shouldn’t bother taking. But, for whatever reason, this feat is capable of extending its protection not to one person, not to your love, but to two people. And lords knows I love when I can take an existing game feature and draw a connection from that to something else, something that was probably never intended but also obvious if you’re aware of it.

See, if the feat let you give someone temporary hit points, that’s easy. That’s you protecting someone you love. Easy. But seemingly to address the way this feat isn’t good enough for what it’s asking of you, it let you split, and boost two people.

… So…

You’re extending your love to two people.

Polyamry win! This Paladin has a girlfriend and a boyfriend!

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[mormonvulture]

on the topic of that last post, i have been stealthing (masquerading as a cis man) at church for a while now and while it isn't without its problems, for me it's been a better solution than the alternatives. i figure i should share some tips about it though. DISCLAIMER: i haven't been stealth in a single ward for more than a year at a time, so i can't speak to how effective this approach is in the long term

most obvious step is to start attending a ward where people didn't know you pre-transition, but the ideal situation is going to the ward of a local ally you know. that way (a) you have someone you are sure will correctly gender you and set a precedent to the rest of the ward, and (b) you can be considered a "visitor" in perpetuity, which is useful for the next tip

you'll need to avoid having your records transferred, for obvious reasons. if you're pulling the visitor card, this is easy. if you can't do that, unless you're either in a byu-type ward or have some very motivated ward leadership, you can probably avoid interest in your records by being vague about what ward you came from and how long you're staying here. i've never been asked point-blank about my records before so i don't have any advice for what to do if that happens

although you may feel like you're extremely clockable, especially at first, the truth is that members are very unlikely to accuse you of being trans unless you're, like, showing up to relief society with a beard or something. for one, despite what republican cretins would have you believe, "a dirty transgender infiltrating my sacred spaces" is just not a worry that sane people have (and a ward where many people think about that is probably not a ward worth going to anyway). more importantly, it would be incredibly rude of someone to pry into your private life like that, and if there's one thing conservative mormons are afraid of more than queer people, it's appearing rude at church

now, what you'll want to brush up on to be more convincing is the specific experiences of being in young men's/young women's/relief society/elders quorum/etc. although you might be surprised at the amount of "gendered" church experiences that are actually very similar regardless of gender, you'll still want to be careful about what terminology you are using (ex: "i didn't want to" is now a more dubious excuse for me to not have served a mission, "health problems" or even "mental health problems" will usually get people to stop asking further questions). if you are willing to lie to members, you might be more convincing in this aspect, but as someone who's averse to that i have had success just with keeping things vague and leaving out details as necessary

if something happens and you do get outed, remember that you can always go to another ward if you want to try again. yes, the church's centralized power structure is an obstacle to a fresh start, but you can avoid baggage left by previous ward/stake leaders for as long as you can avoid getting your records transferred. i should mention that i haven't yet been outed in a ward i was stealthing in; however, i did get outed in the last ward i presented as a woman, so there's a nonzero chance it's been marked in my records. but that hasn't mattered since nobody has touched my records in years >:3

[varrossa]

.𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗: 𝙾𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚍.

In my second year of college, we studied the language of silhouettes and what they can tell us about a character—aka show, don't tell.

Taking that lesson to heart, I strived to illustrate a classic villainous character but ignored any embellishments completely. I wanted to translate who this character is based solely on their silhouette and nothing more, which, for me, tends to be a little laboursome. Regardless, I gathered my references and went to work.

Taking a look at the quick drafts on the left it is very obvious that some big inspirations for this design were iconic childhood villains like Hades from Hercules, Maleficent, and most prominent of all Eris from Sinbad. While all six drafts look appealing I felt that there were a lot of overlapping elements to the original points of inspiration that were used. Diverting from those original characters was quite hard since their designs work so well for the role they embody. Every attempt I made to try and divert my design from those felt like overdesigning.

At the end of the day, if it ain't broke why fix it?

My solution to this problem was to stick to one element that I liked and build the character up from that initial point. Out of all their iconic characteristic I couldn't move on from Eris' mist-like animation. The way her hair was animated had such an attractive weightlessness that was just captivating.

So with my main element decided I started editing to the point where a final design was conceptualised. I had my final design which I adored and while yes this was a personal study I could present it with notes if I wanted to in class. which never happened, who do you think I am?

I had my study done and finished but even so, it felt like something was missing. After all this is all this was, a study. Still...

.

This snowballed to a whole new original character cause I have no self control so here, have some lore dumping (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

.

I've been writing for a few years now and have this book that I hope to finish. It takes place in a multicultural fantasy setting drawing inspiration from different cultures around the world. And while I have my characters sorted out the essence of the main big bad villain was evading me, until now.

Firstly, let's start with our villainess name. Ophis (όφις) means snake in ancient Greek. While yes, she currently doesn't have any visible snake-like elements due to her role in the story her connection with reptiles is important. Additionally, the movement of smoke or mist is reminiscent of a snake's slither. Slow and fluent, almost anticipating.

With that sorted we can move on to her goal. Ophis is the emissary of Ouroboros, an ancient deity rumored to be slumbering deep in the waters of the land where this story takes place. Ouroboros is a dracaena of gargantuan size. Her awakening marks the end of an era and the start of a new one.

I believe most of us are familiar with who Ouroboros is in ancient Greek and Egyptian mythos. A snake depicted devouring itself and being reborn from itself. A continuous cycle of self-distraction and rebirth that seems almost inevitable.

Lastly let's talk about Ophis' title, the Nereid. Nereids or Nereides were sea nymphs and daughters of the 'Old man of the Sea'. What is important is that they had a very strong connection to water. And I also suspect that Nereides is where the word (νεράιδες) derives from—aka fairies but make it Greek.

Now why is there such a prominent connection between these references and the sea? Well, the world which my writing describes is very devoted to one goddess, Selene ruler of the moon. (Ah, yet another Greek reference!) And as we all know the moon's gravitational pull controls the tides, the ocean. So, when I was first trying to figure out certain details regarding the different religions of this universe this connection fitted perfectly.

A serpent sea deity that once awakened marks the end of humanity and a moon goddess trying to prevent the inevitable.

But I'm letting on more than I should.

[maibi]

Consideration

Gojo Satoru x reader

Summary: A joke you played on Gojo kinda backfired. But was it really backfire or something you didn’t mind happening.. ;)

A/N: this turned out longer than I had expected. ANYWAYS I enjoyed writing this one ngl:)

——————————————————————————

Gojo was by far one of the most annoying people you have met, but sadly at the same time he is one of your closest friends. He’d always joke around and never really took anything serious. You would be training the 2nd years on the field and he would just be playing around with his first year students. You didn’t mind that he went easy on the first years, but he just left all the extra hard work over to you once they were in their second year. Which naturally made him more annoying to you. For a 28 year old he sure doesn't act his age. 

“What if you just went on a date with me?”, Gojo said as you were walking to your room, the one you stayed in at school. It was a much cheaper solution, so you didn’t mind it much. Plus you got to spend more time with your students and... other colleagues.

“What about no?”, you said as you stopped in front of your door. 

“AAAAH SENSEI THAT HURTS”, Gojo said as he clutched his heart over dramatically. 

“I’m not your sensei”, you answered back at him.

“I mean you could be”, he answered with a wink.

“How about no”, you said as you opened your door. “I am just your colleague.”

“Did I really just get colleague-zoned?”, he said as he wiped away a fake tear making you roll your eyes.

He was always like this. He’d joke around about liking you and didn't’ even conceal the fact about wanting to be in a relationship. But it had been like this since forever and you were so adapted to all the rejecting you did, that it always happened naturally now. He’d go “I like you a lot so let’s go on a date” and you would just shut him down in various ways. 

Of course there were times he’d make you blush or make your heart beat a little faster than normally, but you never really took his words into consideration. For example a certain situation that made your heart beat faster:

“Not gonna lie, You look really stunning this evening”, he said as he accompanied you on an evening party between all the teachers from Tokyo and Kyoto Jujustu High. 

He had reached out his hand for you to take because that was the kind of guy he was. He didn’t care about how he presented himself in public, so looking like his partner or not was not one of his concerns. So you just didn’t see a problem with it and took his hand as he locked both of your arms.

“Why thank you sir Satoru”, you said as you played along with him. “Though I have to say it feels a little too tight.”

“I think it accentuates your body perfectly”, he said with a wink. “Shall we go inside?”, he said back as your face was probably flushed red. With a nod the both of you went inside the building. 

It had been a peaceful night until a man wouldn’t stop bothering you. He was probably a teacher from Kyoto High so you didn’t want to sound rude, but you really did not enjoy the way he was bothering you. 

To your luck, Gojo had been watching the whole scene and couldn’t hold his chill. He walked up to you and linked your arms again. “I will be walking this person outside, if you have no business left with them you can gladly leave”, he said with a serious expression, boring a whole in the man’s face with his look. 

He pulled you with him to the exit and you just went along. “Maybe we should tell the rest that we’re leaving”, you hesitantly said. 

“It’s alright I'll let someone know we left”, he said.

“Not to be rude, but if we leave so abruptly together they might think wrongly...” You didn’t want to finish that sentence because he’d either act hurt and make jokes out of it or he’d be actually hurt and try not to show it.

You heard him sigh. “I’ll tell them you felt sick and that I sent you with a taxi. Don’t worry about it”, he said in a low voice. 

You weren’t gonna lie that that moment had made your heart beat faster, but you couldn’t tell him that. It felt weird to admit that to a person you have been rejecting for over years now. It’s not like you would feel like this constantly, so you didn’t mind it much. But little did you know... It wasn’t just a temporary feeling.

“You should check on your students, they’re still outside in the rain because of your punishment”, you said snapping back to reality. 

“Ah that’s alright, I gave Megumi the lead. He made sure all three of em went inside before it started raining. All so that I could have some alone time with you", he winked again.

“Then why are only Nobara and Yuuji outside?”, you asked as you pointed at your window. They weren’t, but you just wanted him to shut up and leave, so that was your solution. 

His eyes widened and he just sprinted in the directions of the stairs. He took it very serious when his students got sick, because he needed all of the time he got to teach his students. You always made fun of his way of teaching, but in the end the students always turned out to be strong. You didn’t ever really admit is, but he was a good teacher and in some way you looked up to him. Though that piece of information was not for him to know. He had a dream, and his students were helping him achieve it.

“Ooooh y/n sensei, you didn’t sleep yet?” It was Itadori who came walking in your direction. “I was looking for Gojo sensei, but I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Oh I sent him outside to look for you guys, because I told him Megumi left you and Nobara outside in the rain”, you said.

He looked visibly confused and looked his own body up and down. “But I'm right here?”

“Exactly”, you said as you winked and pointed a finger gun at him. 

His eyes widened and he started laughing. “Sensei that’s so cruel!”

“I have to do what I have to do in order for him to leave me alone sometimes”, you said with a sigh.

“Is Gojo sensei that bad towards you then?”, Yuuji asked.

“Ah Yuuji you’re making me seem like the bad guy here. But no, he actually isn’t all that bad. But he just doesn’t know about the word private space sometimes”, you said reassuring the teenager. 

“oh no I didn’t want to make you feel bad about your words”, he worriedly said as he shook his head. “I just know how Fushiguro gets annoyed easily, so I thought it might have been the same for you. Oh Gojo sensei!”

You turned your head to the side and saw Gojo walking in your direction as Itadori waved frantically, but it faded more and more as Gojo walked closer. He was completely drenched and he held his eye mask in his hands. He looked pissed, or more annoyed. 

“Yuuji could you leave me alone with y/n sensei”, he said not looking up.

“y/n sensei is this alright”, Yuuji whispered.

“It’s alright Yuuji, don’t worry about it. Just make sure you don’t stay around here, okey?”, you said with a smile and a nod to reassure him.

“Okey”, he said with a worried expression as he left anyways. 

You waited till You didn’t see Itadori anymore. You walked inside your room and Gojo just walked right in after you. You didn’t have the time to close the door as he just pinned you against it, making the push close the door. You were taken aback and Gojo just stared at you. You couldn’t read his expression at all. 

“Listen, I play and joke around a lot I know. But making me worry about my students’ health isn’t one of the things I can joke around with”, he said.

“What is it Gojo, did I push the wrong button?”, you said back, not giving a sign of being intimidated by him. 

“Don’t go playing all big and mighty now”, he said in an almost whisper, inching closer to your face.

Your heart was beating in your chest, but you didn’t give in. “What are you gonna do about it?”, you said also inching closer, leaving almost no space between your faces.

That was his sign. That was all he needed as confirmation so he just held you neck and pulled you in, closing the space that was left between the two of you. you synced with his movements and he barely gave you a moment to breath.

He pulled back and looked you straight in the eyes. “I’m not joking around with you, I'm serious. I am ready to give you my all, I hope you realized that by now. I know you feel the same way and I'll give you as much time as you need. But don’t make me waste my time. So if you want me just tell me and I'll give you all the space you need after that”, he said with no hint of sarcasm. 

“Who said I wanted space?”, you said with a smug smile. “Why would i want space when I can take you right now Gojo Satoru”, you said in a whisper with a smug smile. 

He liked that side of you. That playful side of you that appears once in a while. It turned him on, it made him imagine things he shouldn’t and you knew you had that impact on him. Because in the end he never showed any effort in concealing his true feelings so figuring him out wasn’t as hard as you sometimes thought it would. 

He smiled back at you and raised his eyebrows. “Guess chasing after you was really worth it huh?”

You pulled him back in for a kiss and this one was more passionate than the other. You pulled him closer, you deepened the kiss and he did everything in his power to not squish you against the door. Your hand moved to his damp hair and you tugged at it lightly. He moved his head to your ear and trailed down kisses to your shoulder. 

His hand moved to the lock of the door and you heard it click. You turned your head slightly that you had a good view on his face. He was smirking and you rolled your eyes at him in a playful way.

“Let’s see how good you keep your word when saying you can take me right now”, he said.

“I can’t back down now, can I”, you smugly answered.

With a breathy laugh he brought his face back to yours. “where were we”, he said in a whisper.

“Here”, you said and you pulled him back in for a kiss. 

It was quite obvious from the start that you and Gojo would end up like this. You couldn’t deny your feelings forever and Gojo was one hell of a pain in the ass to keep on reminding you that you had no escape from him. Not that you wanted that. But like said before, he didn’t need to know that piece of information. Some things were better left off not said, because in the end Gojo Satoru is one hell of a cocky person, but that was one thing you adored so much about him. And let’s not forget, you were in love with him and there was no denying that either. 

[lubdubsworld]

Blackberry Winters.

Part 1

Check part one for warnings 💔

Part 2.

Namjoon stared at his mother, her words registering but not quite sinking in. He blinked, a couple of times and swallowed dryly, trying to gather his wits that felt like they'd been scattered to the four winds. There was a dull ringing in his ear, a feeling of impending horror and he had to fight to bring himself back to the present.

"She is...?" He couldn't even say it. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realised the irony of it. It wasn't supposed to makes him feel that way. The reason he had taken her to bed was for this : a heir to take over the duties of the head alpha after him. And yet, he knew that he couldn't just ignore all the things that would come with having a pregnant mate. All the added responsibility.

At the heart of it , Namjoon was exhausted.

He had been trained for this position but it didn't make it any easier. His wolf yearned for solitude and serenity, peaceful quiet where he could contemplate life and all its mysteries but the duties and responsibilities kept piling up. He had no time to indulge in such whimsical fantasies. From daybreak to sundown, he drowned in problems that demanded solutions, issues that required his intervention and he was always giving so much of himself to so many.

It was as taking a toll.

And now here was the promise of another new soul. A pup. Fully dependant on him for survival. It was hard to be ecstatic.

" Why do you look so surprised? Have you not been sleeping with her?" She frowned, moving closer to the small wooden bench in the corner of the room. She sat down, primly adjusting the large swathes of her skirt. Even at her age, she was a beauty and despite being a widow, she was treated with great respect by all the wolves in the clan.

" I have... Of course...I just didn't expect her to ...so soon. " He muttered hesitantly. He made a quick calculation, Conceived at the end of autumn meant the child would be born at the end of summer. Rains and more rains. He would have to commission the weavers to make a lot of warm blankets and thick bedding for the babe. And make sure that all the birthing huts had their roofs mended. He felt an ache in his chest. He knew he had to have a heir. It was part of what he was responsible for. But he wasn't ready to be a father yet. Especially not with someone like her.

" You haven't been very subtle in your disdain for her, Joon. It makes me wonder of perhaps I have failed in teaching you the ways of a husband." His mother's sharp voice made him wince.

His parents had been deeply in love with each other. His mother had been an equal contributor in running the clan, his father's most trusted confidante. He couldn't imagine having something like that with the woman he had rather recklessly chained himself to for life. But he couldn't be openly defiant in front of his mother.

So he bowed.

" I've tried to talk to her mother. She looks at me like I'm some marauding villain."

Lady Kim scoffed.

" Because, for all she knows, you may as well be one. Think of who she is, how she was raised. Her mother died when she was eight and she has been keeping house for her father since then. It Is a miracle she knows how to read a few words and to write her own name. Old man Gong is unkind and cruel and I've only ever watched him treat her like an unruly dog that needed discipline and never like his own flesh and blood. She knows men to be cruel and powerful and capable of doing her great harm. Add to it your status as the head of the clan, of course she thinks you're dangerous. "

" am I to be blamed for her childhood now?"

" Don't be obtuse. That is not what I'm saying. I just want you to consider her upbringing, before you write her off as dramatic or hysterical. "

Namjoon sighed deeply.

" Alright, mother. I'll try to talk to her again. "

And he knew that he had to. If he wanted some semblance of peace in his life, he would have to make an effort with his wife.

----------------------------

Jiah sat by the haybale near the barn, cross-legged on the dirty floor as she watched Misu and Loshim, two of the stable boys tend to the horses. She stared at the careful way they brushed the large beasts, their tone gentle and soothing as they murmured reassurance to the agitated animals. She found it fascinating, how even an animal that powerful could feel fear and anxiety. It made her feel better about her own shortcomings.

From a very young age, she had known of her flaws. She was jittery, prone to cold sweats and breathing problems, easily frightened and absolutely terrified of confrontation of any kind. Her parents had been, to put it lightly, unkind. They had seen her as a burden, as something broken and useless and cumbersome and that had done nothing for her self esteem.

To make matters worse, they didn't let her attend lessons with the other omega girls, her education limited to scribbled writing on granite with chalk when her father was feeling bored or charitable. She could read a few words with difficulty . Could write her name out if you gave her some time and patience.

At first, her ignorance had been embarassing but over time she realised her education wouldn't serve her much purpose.

She thought of herself as something temporary and fleeting. Not meant to leave any lasting impression on the world. So it was alright if she didn't know what every other girl her age did. She was going to live and die in that hut near the boundary walls..... She would have no use for fancy words or exotic dances.

Or so she hd always believed.

So when the head alpha had asked for her hand in marriage, she had nearly passed out from her heart giving out.

Namjoon was seven years older, almost thirty winters old and she had only ever caught glimpses of him when he came to check on her father's watchpost occasionally. He was a tall man, strapping and intimidating with dragon eyes that glowed red. And one evening he had stopped by her side when she had been tending the beets and potatoes in the small vegetable garden out back.

He had stared at her for a few long minutes while she had sweated in nervousness and then he had promptly asked for her father. When the man had Stepped in and told her father that he was looking to make her his bride, the old man had been jubilant while Jiah had been confounded.

She hadn't wanted to say yes but she had been too much of a coward to say no. Besides, she didn't know if saying no would have any repurcussions....she didn't want to risk offending the literal head of the entire clan. What if they banished her? What would become of her then?

And so she had said yes. And here she was.

Mated to the man for life, her wolf connected to his and his mark on her neck and now....his child in her womb.

She felt the familiar stirring of panic, digging her nails into her palm to ground herself .

Jiah had long come to terms with the fact that her mind was not her friend. It sometimes tried to attack her , tried to make her feel irrational things. It convinced her that she was a bother, that she was useless, that she was a burden. It also tried to tell her that she was in danger, that she had to run and avoid and get away, even when she was perfectly safe.

When she had first come here as the head Alphas new wife, her brain had wrecked havoc on her senses. Had made her feel like a hunted animal, always cowering and hiding and trying to disappear . Namjoon had tried to be friendly, tried to be courteous and all she had done was hide and recoil, skin ice cold and words practically non existent. She hadn't said a word to him those first few days and even the bedding had been a nightmare, her entire body stiff as a board and she knew that he had probably felt like he was making love to a corpse.

She regretted it. Deeply. But there was not much she could do about it now. Besides she wasn't sure she even wanted to. It was obvious her husband's affections lay elsewhere. She had seen the way he looked at that courtesan. Had seen him sneak out for walks with her, had seen them huddled together in the room with all the scrolls and leather bound books.

Jisoo was a beautiful omega, well read and trained in musical arts. She played the gayageum and the flute, knew how to entertain guests with a perfect ceremonial dance and she was always at the helm of every festivity, dressed in vibrant fabrics and full of life.

She was also madly in love with Namjoon.

Jiah sighed, watching the horses paw at the dirty stable floor. She wanted to get to know her husband, yes. But she knew that even if she did, he would only find her wanting and inadequate in all ways.

And that was just not acceptable .

She maybe self aware when it came to her short comings but she also had her pride.

She would rather live like this. Tucked away like an embarassment, hidden like a dirty secret because then there would be no piercing gaze weighing her against her peers and declaring her broken.

Yes.

Pregnant or not, she wanted nothing to do with her husband.

------------------------

" Are you feeling well now?" Namjoon's voice startled her, eyes going wide as she looked around the resting quarters , gaze finally falling on the man standing near the large table on the side. Namjoon was bent over the rough oak surface , papers spread out in front of him, an oil lamp burning bright nearby, casting a sepia shadow on the man himself and she hesitated, debating the pros and cons of excusing herself to go see his mother instead. Maybe claiming a headache?

In the end she did neither, resolving to at least make an effort with this.

" I'm well, alpha. " She swallowed the lump in her throat. " I'm sorry for inconveniencing you. "

He straightened, turning around to look at her finally.

" Do you wish to move into another room?" He said briskly and she startled.

" Another room?"

" Now that you are with pup, there's no reason for us to keep sleeping together. I prefer having my own space. "

Jiah felt the blood rush through her ears. This shouldn't hurt but it did and she could feel the self loathing flood her senses. She stared down at herself, the lack of beauty and the utter lack of any kind of elegant upbringing. Of course he didn't want to stay with her any longer. What had she been thinking , agreeing to this farce of a mating?

" I... Alright. "

Namjoon turned away from her.

" Good. I've already arranged for all your things to be moved to the west wing , next to the gardens."

Far away from his rooms, Jiah thought bitterly. The sudden realization that Namjoon had been looking for some sort of brood mare and not a mate hit her . And it suddenly made sense that he hd picked her.

Someone easy to boss around.

Someone who wouldn't demand anything from him, loyalty or affection or attention .

And it irked her for some reason.

Why did he get to treat her that way? Why must she put up with it?

But she stayed quiet because she wasn't sure what to say.

" You can leave now, Jiah. " He said dismissively and she hesitated before stepping out of the room.

And she wondered if with her departure, someone else would be taking her place in his bed.

-----------------------------

Authors Note : would you guys like first person narrative or should I continue in third person? 👀

[boldbrash-fandertrash]

Ignore me, unless I’m right in which case I fucking called it

So I was rewatching the episode for the fourth time and one I realized that Remus is much much smarter than we give him credit for and two I can generally predict how the rest of the story is gonna go.

We’re gonna have another aside video with Patton and Janus before the big season finale, and that aside is going to be one of the most important videos to the general progression of the plot.

I’m sure you’ve noticed the pattern so far, two sides who diametrically oppose each other being forced to work together on a problem they vastly disagree about, usually turning the small issue into something much messier than it ever would be and them learning something about themselves in the process.

Each pairing exists to point out to the viewer exactly what issues exist with each side that need some form of resolving, and the big unifying theme amongst them is “you’re not listening to me”. Roman and Virgil dragging Thomas across the cafeteria in favor of or agains him talking to Nico, Logan and Remus deliberately ignoring and working to undo the others work in an attempt to break Thomas out of the depressive funk he found himself in. Nobody is working together here. The only side to even remotely cooperate with the group was Virgil body checking Thomas into Nico, and it took him and Roman bullying each other and Thomas for an entire video to even get to that point.

Watching Logan and Remus interact, one, brought me immense joy and I will be chasing that high for weeks to come, and two, after an ounce of critical thinking was frankly painful to watch. Any critiques Logan offered to Remus were immediately discarded with absurdity and any critiques Remus offered to Logan were discounted as absurd.

During the obvious scene at the end with the Eyes™️, Logan claimed he wasn’t pretending Remus didn’t exist, but honestly, he kinda was.

The Dunce Cap Scene really accentuates this point. Logan pulls a holier than thou, why won’t you learn I’m always right, bullshit passive aggressive remark, Remus does his dramatic repenting student shtick, starts singing directly into Logan’s ear, and makes a kink joke. Literally the words Remus sings are “can’t fix this guy, all by yourself”. Remus is saying this inches from Logan’s personal face and even still the logical side ignores him outright, because of all the fluff around the message. Hell, in Remus’s introduction video, Logan likens him to a screaming baby on a plane, essentially saying “well eventually he’ll stop screaming so just bear with it for a while and you’ll be fine”. He’s ignoring Remus outright due to a preconceived notion and missing out on valuable information because of it.

The dunce cap scene indirectly calls back to learning new things about ourselves, where Logan is completely unreceptive to the puppet bit because of its perceived absurdity and absolutely refuses to acknowledge any potential the medium might have for learning until he physically cannot anymore.

Remus is capable of, and does often, make valid points and offers genuine critiques of shit happening in their lives. In Forbidden Fruit, almost every single line harkens back to some idea the other sides had been trying, and failing, to communicate to Thomas. “Good and bad is all made up nonsense”, “if you shared those musings with your friends i doubt they would forgive you”, “why deny yourself knowledge, say, knowledge of yourself” “people don’t like me much, Thomas, but that only just cause I’m honest”, “these sorts of things are only thought in the mind of a man who’s soul is truly rotten.”

Despite all of this, he is ignored outright because of his medium. Just like Logan is ignored due to his monotone cadence and large volume of content, just like Roman is due to his flair for the dramatic and artistic display of ideas, just like Patton is due to his playful and childlike nature, just like Janus is due to his perceived role as the Villain, just like Virgil /was/ due to his perceived role as the villain.

They all have become accustomed to being stepped on by the other sides because of who they are and how they communicate, and have in turn learned some less than ideal methods of being heard again. Logan yells and gets passive aggressive, Remus ups the fear factor for everyone around him, Roman shuts down anyone who tries to talk through bullying and raising his voice, Patton manipulates the others into feeling guilt and covers it up with a smile, Virgil whips out the tempest tongue and incites fear in Thomas, and Janus physically silences anyone in his way.

And here’s why I say the next asides episode is going to be the most important one developmentally. Patton and Janus are going to be forced to work together. Patton, who is in the midst of an identity crisis, and willing to listen to any new ideas provided they offer a valid solution to the shit he’s found himself in, and Janus, who knows a lot more than he’s willing to let on, who concerns himself exclusively with Thomas’s self preservation, and loves to talk when given the opportunity. Janus is gonna have a thing or two to say to Patton when they’re inevitably faced with their moral dilemma, and Patton is going to be in just the right mindset that he’s willing to listen. And Janus is going to end up being right, and the small issue they’re facing will be resolved, which will therefore strengthen Patton’s trust, and his openness to changing for the better.

Patton is goofy, and childish, and kinda ditzy sometimes, and because of that we as a fandom tend to overlook any of his moments that are anything but that, but we are not giving this man enough credit. When Patton sets his heart on something, he throws his whole self into it, and is willing to stand up for his beliefs in the face of extreme opposition, and would gladly do anything in his power to defend his family. Once Patton decides that he’s willing to grow, and if he believes that this growth will help put his family back together, nothing can stop him, and that will be absolutely crucial for the growth of all the other sides around him.

Whatever him and Janus discuss during their aside will absolutely give Patton the information he needs to help stitch together the rift between everyone.

I predict the next official Sanders Sides video is going to be the longest one yet, possibly over an hour long, because there’s a LOT of work that is going to need to be done, and Everyone is going to be in it. The big issue of “you’re not listening to me” won’t be resolved, but it will be acknowledged in a serious light by everyone. We won’t be getting any appearances from the Orange Side I don’t think, that would end up just complicating matters even more when each character is already incredibly shaky in their own identity.

Something less than ideal is gonna happen between Thomas and Nico, he’s gonna summon the initial three to deal with the matter but the other lads are gonna worm their way into the discussion, everyone’s gonna start screaming at each other, and Pattons gonna do something that stuns everyone else into silence (I’m guessing he’ll start crying, considering the start of season two was all about him repressing negative emotions and what better way to show character growth than to sob openly on camera).

Once everyone just fucking stops for ten seconds that’s when the apologies start. None of the sides are ever the first to apologize, we’ve seen that time and time again. Their desire to be in the right as well as their pride will always get in the way, however if someone starts the apology train everyone will eventually follow suit. We see that in Alone On Valentines Day, My Negative Thinking, Growing Up, Accepting Anxiety, Fitting In, Moving On, actually in pretty much every video where an apology actually takes place, once one person apologizes the other will immediately follow suit.

Patton is gonna be a goddamn mess, he’s gonna apologize to everyone in the room for anything he thinks he may have done to wrong them, and that’s gonna be what gets everyone to acknowledge all the shit they’ve put each other through, and the others are going to jump between trying to console him and trying to apologize to each other. They’re going to come to the unified decision that they need to work together more on future issues, the group is all going to offer up a solution and decide together on a remedy to whatever happened together between Thomas and Nico, and that will be that. Season three will be about them finding the balance between stepping on toes and being stepped over, while also working out how the orange side fits into everything.

Thus marking the end of my rant.

I started writing this at 2 and it’s now 4. I have to be up in three hours. I have an essay due at 3pm tomorrow that I haven’t started, but instead I typed up all this bullshit. I hope any of this made any sense, and I hope this is a suitable replacement for my emotions essay that’s completely untouched because chances are this is what I’m presenting to my therapist tomorrow. Wish me luck.

[an-annyeoing-writer]

vulnerability. – chap. 1.

Read the prologue here

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 16th May 2021

Word count: 3 727

Warnings: mentions of trauma (nothing descriptive)

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi--kpop--fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @kimcarinaa

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you're shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Previous (Prologue)

Chap. 1.

Living in a small apartment close to the city center was not always convenient.

You regretted you couldn’t buy all the pretty things that you saw in stores or on Pinterest, because they’d easily overwhelm the limited space. Your neighbors constantly reminded you that they’re a few meters away from you, with screams, children’s cries, music, or chopping meat at 2 AM if that’s what a particular neighbor decided to do.

Fortunately, as the time passed, you got used to most of it and started to appreciate the small space, almost effortless to keep clean, close to both your university and the workplace, and the city center – an area that was always restless during the long days and nights that you spent watching it through your tall window, as if waiting for someone to look back at you.

Despite the comfort of living alone that you tried to indulge in, you couldn’t help growing lonelier and lonelier with every passing day. At the very least, your job and university often took the worries off your mind, and they eventually became your whole life, an existence that focused on never-ending effort in the name of better future, as though there was nothing in the present worth fighting for.

You studied finance; you didn’t give it much hope at first, but it ended up becoming interesting as you started connecting the dots and realizing how broad and important this topic was. Yet, as any newborn financier, you used your secret knowledge in the mysterious field of retail. In other words, you worked part-time as a cashier in a convenience store. Twenty four years old, on your way to getting that famous Master’s degree, already more than halfway through the process, yet – education without experience mattered nothing, as you realized the very moment you started looking for your first job, unable to keep counting on your parents. Not like you wanted to stay in touch with them, anyway.

Adulthood was difficult; the small apartment, due to its location, costed more than your whole family’s used to in your hometown. A small scholarship kept you set up with electricity and water fees, but for WiFi you needed to depend on a close-by library with a good signal; it turned out to have the connection good enough to reach from at least one place in your apartment, the one you coincidentally used for occasional observations. You weren’t sure whether you discovered the WiFi while sitting or if you developed the observing habit upon having to spend your time there over any other place. The only downside of this solution was that some sites were blocked after a scandal over men in the library performing actions other than polite studying, with the help of library computers. The event was outrageous to some, but primarily it became an object of jokes and memes all thorough the city, and maybe even country-wide to some extent. Either way, in times of need, your phone still had its meager data transfer. Good enough.

It was Saturday now; Saturdays were good but busy, because you worked at nights, then slept the shift off, and after you woke up, you could go and study all that you missed throughout the week, if for any reason the classes didn’t sound appealing enough or something else happened, distracting you from them. You spent Saturday afternoons either by the window of your room (where the WiFi reached) or just went straight to the library – a place way more spacious than your own apartment, and quieter as well. The only issue was, that you couldn’t snack in there and you ought to stay quiet. You decided to go with the latter and set foot towards the library.

Therefore, when your phone suddenly rang there, a few faces snapped towards you in obvious disapproval; you cursed internally, before you even managed to pull the phone out of your pocket, because you panicked so much that your hands shook at the initial attempt to do so. You got up from your seat and quickly disappeared between the bookshelves, where the people staying by the tables wouldn’t hear you so well anymore.

“Hello?” you whispered into the phone.

“Hello. Am I disturbing you?”

Your heart dropped as you recognized the voice, although you weren’t completely certain if you recognized it well, it sounded a bit different through the phone. The number was unknown on your phone, but there was only one person that could be calling you today.

You took a few seconds to compose yourself; less than you actually needed, but just enough so that the silence would not turn awkward.

“Um… I can’t talk loudly, but that’s okay.”

“I can call you later.”

“N-no need to, I’ll just whisper.”

“Okay, then.” He was quiet for a few seconds, but you heard some shuffling on the other side. “Do you have time tonight?”

The question was sudden, so you weren’t completely sure, if you did. But your mind felt too empty to figure that out, anyway.

“No. I mean, yes. Sorry, I meant I don’t have plans. So, um, yes, I’m free.” This didn’t sound professional at all. However, you heard quiet laughter on the other side and exhaled almost audibly in relief; it was the first time you heard him laugh with you, and it served to calm your nerves like a wave of calmness coming over you.

“Well, do you want to meet? I’m going to a museum and I don’t feel like going alone. What about that?”

“A museum? That… sounds nice.” When was the last time you’ve been to one? What a perfect opportunity to make a fool out of yourself. “What time?”

“Around six? If that’s okay with you.” If you remembered well, it had to be around three now.

“Sounds alright, where should we meet?”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay. Thank you.” What were you exactly thanking him for? Hard to tell. But you heard him laugh again; you felt like he’s mocking you, but you quickly realized it couldn’t be the case – a warm voice like this couldn’t be ill-intended.

“Sure thing, you’re welcome. We’re set up, then?”

“A-actually, I have a question, if it’s not a problem.” You bit on your lip, knowing than in less than ten seconds, you were going to probably embarrass yourself in front of an educated and serious adult.

“What’s the matter?” he asked politely.

“So, um… What should I wear?”

* * *

You were grateful for the few tips given by Byun Baekhyun at the end of your conversation, because otherwise you’d either be underdressed or overdressed. You ended up wearing a more elegant university attire, something you usually wore for exams, but which didn’t make you appear too formal; a long, woolen skirt that was your private treasure due to its ability to keep you warm even in winter (and it was still spring; the weather was questionable), as well as leather shoes, a beige shirt and a thick, knitted cardigan. You felt quite modest; something told you that it wasn’t a regular date. You didn’t feel a need to reveal anything, or to focus on your feminine attributes. You just felt like it wouldn’t serve any purpose. As long as Baekhyun was concerned, you had an impression that he’s more interested in your mind than in the way you look – the clothes you wore last time, just a little bit revealing and suggestive, had done nothing to save you. You wanted only to look appropriate, and you were sure you managed to achieve at least that.

As you found out soon enough, he wasn’t particularly dressed up, either. A button-up shirt without without a tie – bow or neck type – and jeans, made of high-quality denim, not like the ripped through or worn out ones people sometimes wore. And a suede coat. Although he wasn’t dressed up to look attractive, it would be difficult not to feel attracted to him. Byun Baekhyun had his own aura of independence and considerate distance connected with subtle proximity, and this time, you had the chance to appreciate this harmony, working perfectly for him, highlighting his soft masculinity. Even more so, when you noted a small, gentle smile that appeared on his lips when he spotted you leaving your apartment block.

“Hi there” he spoke.

“Hi there” you replied.

“The museum is nearby, so I didn’t take the car, is that okay?”

It was probably too late to change the means of transport anyway, so the question was pointless. But no, you didn’t mind.

“It’s okay. What museum are we going to?”

He put hands in the pockets of his coat and tilted his head to the side, observing as you approached. You crossed your hands over your chest; it was a bit colder than you expected, and the skirt only warmed you up at the bottom, the wind still reached the top.

“You should put on something warmer. It’ll get even colder on the way back” he spoke. “Go back and get yourself a jacket, I’ll wait.”

You wanted to oppose and say it’s alright, but you didn’t; it didn’t feel right to argue with him. You only nodded and went home to retrieve a better outwear; you were back in no time.

“So? Which museum?”

You looked up at Baekhyun: the man walked by your side, or – in fact – you were walking by his; he stayed in control of the situation, but resonated with warmth and peacefulness rather than the coldness and stillness you experienced last time. And especially as he spoke, you found yourself easing into the conversation more naturally, and your initial fear quickly turned into innocent shyness upon the older man’s presence.

“A complex of museums nearby. There’s everything there, a historical museum of the region, one about the history of mining worldwide, and an art museum. I wanted to see the last one, I heard they unveiled a few new pieces since the the last time I went. You’re not local?” He glanced at you with polite curiosity.

“Not really. I moved here to study” you explained. “I know the nearby area, but I’m not too… um, social. I only know where to do the cheapest groceries and where they sell the best bread.”

“Where?”

“Behind the river, by the intersection with the highway. It looks small but really, you should try it out. Especially their cinnamon rolls.”

Baekhyun hummed.

“That sounds nice. I can recommend the best pizza in return.”

“You eat takeouts often?”

“Yep.”

“You’d save money if you cooked for yourself. Pizzas are expensive.”

Another warm laugh reached your ears, and through them, your heart as well.

“I’ll save money if I spend the time for cooking on working instead.”

“Okay, that’s a valid point. But homemade food is healthier.”

“Depends on where you buy your takeout.” He seemed to have an answer to your every doubt. “I wouldn’t trust just any restaurant, you know? It’s basically what my diet consists of.”

“Variety is also important. Don’t argue with me on that.”

“I won’t. But I won’t take you for a pizza, if that’s your stance on that.”

“I didn’t say I don’t want it” you remarked right away; he replied with laugh, which you found yourself copying naturally.

The conversation flowed smoothly, reaching more or less unimportant topics: the city life, current events, your university, possible career, Baekhyun’s interests – you found out he likes music; it’s too sad to work in silence – and the museum you were going to.

The place you felt initially quite neutral about, brought you more peace than you expected it to. It looked harmonious and the lights were soft. No one hurried through the gallery, and the paintings, although not so interesting at first, you soon learned to appreciate, trying to catch onto small details that, you could tell, Baekhyun already knew by heart, but he smiled every single time you pointed at something specific that caught your attention, even if it was as silly as matching colors, or realistically portrayed lights – these were your favorites.

And, slowly but surely, you got accustomed to the pretty sights, excitement turning into relaxation, and even Baekhyun himself seemed more content than you thought he’d be in your presence.

“You’re different,” you spoke as the two of you sat on a bench in front of one of the tall, monumental pieces; this one was a modern painting full of splashes and mixed colors, soft browns, yellows, and greens, so big that it definitely wouldn’t fit in your bedroom – the first thought you had upon seeing its size.

Despite the painting being in the very center of the gallery, you were the only ones watching it now.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re different today than you were yesterday” you elaborate. “Less… intimidating” you tried to put your thoughts into words.

Baekhyun laughed in response; the laughter was soft and warm, which made you exhale in relief – you feared that he’d feel offended at the remark.

“Yesterday was different. I needed to test you.”

“What do you mean?”

He stared at the painting as he leaned forward, resting elbows on his knees and shifting a little bit, probably thinking how to say the thing he had to say, without causing misunderstandings. You stared at him, completely having lost interest in the painting by now, ready to hear out whatever was to be spoken.

“People often come to me because they’re attracted to me. Well, not blaming them” he grinned; you rolled your eyes a little, but it did relieve the tension, most likely according to his own intention. “However, I’m not interested in romantic relationships. If you come to me expecting a date, you’ll get disappointed. And you won’t be able to handle what it is truly about, if I’m the only thing keeping you interested. It’ll be a hassle for the both of us.”

He glanced at you only briefly, ensuring that you’ve heard him so far before shifting his eyes back forward.

“So I’m always like this at first, just to see how determined you are, and how you behave under pressure. Then I leave you for a few minutes so you have the time to reconsider and leave if willing. That’s a safety measure for you.” He stopped for just a few seconds. “And you – all of you – always check what’s on the other side of the sheet. That’s a safety measure for me.”

“Safety measure?”

“Trust is the basis of the whole deal. If you don’t admit, that you looked at it, it means you’ll keep hiding things later on as well, and I can’t have that.”

“So if I…”

“Yes. If you didn’t correct your statement, we wouldn’t be here right now.” The words sounded ominous even despite the calm tone that Baekhyun used.

“I understand.”

You actually did; the strange aura of yesterday’s meeting finally started to clear out, leaving the simplest facts that all fit into the bigger picture. Yet, you still didn’t know enough. There were more things, more questions, each of which demanded an answer of its own. However, you were still unsure of your stance, and of what Baekhyun had planned for you – for the both of you.

“Will you accept me, then?” you asked finally, breaking through the silence.

“I don’t know yet” he replied in an honest tone, finally reciprocating your gaze. His features were soft, you could tell, he tried not to hurt you with his words. “You’re a nice girl, but I’m not sure if it’ll work out. I need more time. Primarily, I need to get to know you better. And I feel like you need more time, too.”

You nodded slowly.

“Could you, um… tell me more about it?”

“About what I do?”

“Yeah. You didn’t tell me much last time. You mostly only asked questions.”

“True. I may answer some of yours, if you’d like. What are you interested in?”

You cleared your throat; some questions seemed more intrusive than the others and you preferred to leave them for later.

“What would you want to do with me, if we set up a um… a scene?” Is that how you professionally call it? You didn’t remember all that well; you were, in fact, with no experience, only the Internet and your own curiosity to lead you forward – the temptation to explore your interests had been progressing in silence up until now.

“Well, depends on what would be suitable. I do different things with different people. Sometimes, it’s about what they like, and sometimes about what I like, and, the most often, it’s about what we both like. Everyone needs a different approach. I enjoy finding the right approach, and exploring it. It’s different when you start with a virgin, different when you start with a brat, different when you start with someone experienced, different when you start with someone with trauma. The last type is a person I don’t like engaging in. It’s a vulnerable ground and the person often seeks relief instead of therapy. I’m not a therapist. I’m a dominant.”

You took your time to analyze his words and put them all together in your head before you spoke again.

“You wrote something like that on the sheet. That I may have trauma.”

“That’s different,” Baekhyun was quick to elaborate. “Everyone has trauma of sort. Childhood traumas are more common than you think. I meant specifically trauma that comes from similar ground as the one I’m on. It’s not the case for you. According to what you said, you’ve never had any experiences like this and never engaged sexually or romantically.”

Pointing that out hurt a little; yes, so what if you’re 24 years old and a virgin? You had the right to choose your pace. But, you quickly realized, it was your own insecurity poking at you, because Baekhyun sounded anything but judgmental. He didn’t seem particularly impressed either – and you were thankful for that as well. You’ve seen enough men sounding excited when a woman was discovered to be unexperienced. You hated that even more than those who made fun of you; and in the long run, you just learned not to overshare. Telling Baekhyun this truth wasn’t the easiest, so having him say it so casually was definitely weird in your ear.

“However, that’s also a vulnerable point. You don’t know what you’re getting into. It looks different on the screen or in the books than it is in real life. I’m not going to reject you just because you’re new, because everyone’s been at some point. But you must understand, it’s a responsibility, and I don’t want to take one I’m not capable of handling.”

“Have you ever been with someone else like that?”

“With a virgin?”

“…Yeah.”

“Yes. Once. But I didn’t handle it too well back then.”

“What do you mean?”

Baekhyun rubbed his chin, pressing his lips together in slight uneasiness. But you didn’t revoke your question – maybe you should have, for the sake of his comfort, but you felt that the answer wouldn’t be meaningless to you.

“She wanted to be exclusive,” the man finally answered. “I tolerated her for too long. I should have broken the deal as soon as I started seeing red flags, instead of ending up sleeping with her. It made everything only worse.” He spoke quietly, making sure people passing by at times would hear no word. You heard everything clearly, though. “That’s why I’m more picky now. Breaking the deal is not a good thing if it comes from one side. It may leave the other devastated, that’s why I’d rather reduce the risk in advance.”

He looked at your face, seeking understanding and acceptance. You nodded slowly, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible. You didn’t want to add to the pain already displayed on his own. But you appreciated his transparency.

“Does it mean that sex is not always involved?”

“With me, it rarely is” he admitted patiently. “I’m not against it, but I usually do other things. People rarely expect it, and I never pry. Mainly, because in this particular case, I do expect exclusivity. So, as long as no sex is involved, I know some of my subs are dating other people, or even engaging with other doms. However, for safety reasons I demand health checks prior to intercourse, and so on. Not just for me, but because I’m not exclusive myself.” You wondered if his choice of vocabulary was meant to make things less awkward. “However, actual sex is only one of the possibilities. Sexual pleasure that doesn’t involve direct touch may be used as a tool for training, for rewarding and for punishing, even as entertainment… not necessarily to the person it influences. As I said, it depends on who it’s done with. And it may take different forms, too. What’s your stance on that?”

“I don’t feel like I’d be able to as much as undress in front of someone who’s not my doctor” you answered almost instantly, the answer obvious to you, a matter you’ve thought about enough. “Although… well, I suppose it takes time. I’m not against the idea, just… you know.”

Baekhyun only nodded; you glanced at him, feeling a need for any reply that’d soothe you a little.

“I understand. That’s okay.”

You figured it out now; using more formal language made it less embarrassing to listen to. It’s like he tore the words off emotions and left facts only, and you found yourself easing into saying more and more, your embarrassment dissolving as well. No judgments were made.

“Is there anything else you want to know?”

“A lot, to be honest. But I think I know enough for now.”

Right as you said the last words, a sound echoed in the museum, in a soft female voice saying that the museum will close in fifteen minutes.

You took one last glance at the huge painting in front of you, but you felt like, at this point, you wouldn’t find anything new among the random stains and splatters. Baekhyun got up from his seat on the bench and so did you. You spotted him hide a small yawn behind his hand.

The day was coming to an end, and so was your small date – as un-date-ish as it could be.

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!

Author's note: hope you're enjoying it so far! Trying to give it a bit sense before more things happen, and, hopefully, this chapter clears it out a little bit. Feel free to talk to me if anything is unclear!

Next (Chapter 2.)

[fresh-prince-of-denmark]

Interpretation of V’s Mikoshi Poem Pt1: Life is Murder

Cyberpunk spoilers ahead: 

Let’s talk about Cyberpunk’s literary references and what they mean for the story, coming from a former English professor/teacher.

Alt will read you one of two poems you cross the bridge to the Mikoshi depending on who is in control. Johnny is read an excerpt from Sailing to Byzantium by Yeats, while V is given an excerpt from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot. For now, let’s focus on V’s poem:

“Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, 

The muttering retreats 

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels 

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: 

Streets that follow like a tedious argument 

Of insidious intent 

To lead you to an overwhelming question. . . . 

Oh, do not ask, "What is it?" 

Let us go and make our visit.”

Cool. Some English majors (derogatory) work at project red. So why should I care?

Well I’ll tell you:

First, a summary: In this story, the narrator is on an evening stroll with a woman he most likely has a romantic relationship with although the vibes are far from a romantic love sonnet. Interestingly enough, the first few lines of this poem have been cut from Alt’s reading; including the epigraph from Dante’s inferno, which translates to the following:

 “If I but thought that my response were made

to one perhaps returning to the world,

this tongue of flame would cease to flicker.

But since, up from these depths, no one has yet

returned alive, if what I hear is true,

I answer without fear of being shamed.”

This missing piece from Alt’s poem can be read several ways; most of them drawing a parallel between the Blackwell and hell. In fact, Dante’s inferno has a lot of similarities to the story. One can make a comparison between Virgil and Alt, leaving a debate on who plays the roll of Beatrice (the one being saved) and Dante (the one doing the saving) between Johnny and V. I have to wonder at the writers choice to leave this portion out, as there’s a lot to be said here about who truly comes out alive: who’s flame will cease to flicker? V, for obvious reasons, does not return to the world of the living the same. She will not live much longer, and is dying despite being temporarily “saved.” However, if Johnny returns to the body, he is no longer the Johnny we know; arrogant, self-assured, and more than a little narcissistic. The will to fight seems to have died within him; he leaves Night City, presumably looking to start over. While V clearly changes him before Mikoshi, he is a broken and somber man after returning to life, a flickering flame of who he once was. There’s also a connection to be made about Johnny/V dying and returning to life, literally rising from hell. The next part of the missing introduction is as follows: 

“Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;” 

I can’t think of a better way to describe what is happening in Mikoshi aside from the line “Like a patient etherized upon a table.” Johnny and V, in this moment, are suspended in an almost dream-like state. In Eliot’s poem, the “treatment” this patient is awaiting is presumably an examination/reflection of the self, which will lead to the narrator making a major decision. In this scenario, V is being forced to make a very tough choice, one that will take a lot of reflection as they decide what (a few months) of their remaining life is worth. 

On to the actual portion of the poem that Alt reads:

“Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent.”

While Prufrock is taking his lover on a romantic stroll, they are hardly walking through rose gardens. They are traveling through the unpleasant parts of a city, and he is noticing all the unsavory parts of his world. Obvious references to night city include one-night hotels (such as the no-tell motel, the Pista Sofia, or the hotel that Johnny and V stay at after the parade, which Johnny gripes about and asks ‘what kind of losers stay in a place like this?), and ‘the sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells,’ which is possibly a reference to the fact that food in Night City is real sketchy (odd things like synth-milk, which Takemura complains about throughout the game). The streets like a tedious argument works on several levels here; both the crime of night city’s streets, which is relentless and quite literally never-ending (V can’t walk two blocks without an assault in progress task spawning), and the socio-economic ecosystem that threatens self-combust at any point. There will always be conflict between gangs, between corpos, between Arasaka and Militech, and between the nomads and the Raffins/Wraiths. In one mission with Padre, you find out that Arasaka and Militech are on the verge of waging another war. None of this conflict is positive, and always ends in bloodshed, often of the innocent. One can argue themselves in circles trying to find a solution to NC’s problems, there is no win-win situation. It’s a bit of a damnned if you do, damnned if you don’t situation. This comes up in conversation with Takemura on his career with Arasaka, as well as several other missions that involve those who choose to work for corporations to survive. This is also a point of conflict between V and Johnny a multiple times, one that never gets an answer. A literal tedious argument, tedious because there are no ‘happy endings for all involved’ in Night City. The final lines of Alt’s reading have more to do with V/Johnny’s final choice:

“To lead you to an overwhelming question ...

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit.”

All the unsavory things V has to do to survive, all the people that have died to get to Mikoshi, lead up to one ‘overwhelming’ question: who will live on? There are so many other questions that should be answered: what is beyond the Blackwall? Are Johnny and Alt real, or is the soul truly dead, and are they just a copy of the people they once were? What happens to the idea of God and the afterlife when you introduce the idea of Soulkiller? But much like in the poem, we don’t get these answers. In fact, we are barely given time to contemplate the question as we fight for survival. A decision must be made, despite not knowing or even having time to dwell on these answers. Similarly Johnny, when presented with these questions in several side quests, refuses to even entertain the question, much like the poem’s narrator. 

The rest of the poem, which is not included in Alt’s reading, is full of allusions to the story. The “yellow fog,” which persists across the poem is full of cat-like imagery, conjuring the bakaneko, the spirit of misfortune that can bring people back to life that Takemura mentions (coincidence that V/Johnny can adopt a cat? Keeping death as a close companion? I think not). Prufrock spends the rest of the poem contemplating his question, talking himself in circles, and the only thing that changes is his age as time slips by. Just as he seems to be making progress, he talks himself back to square one and begins again. Much in the same way, Johnny and V go in the same circles. Their journey begins with their deaths, and to death they will both return no matter what. Nothing they did really mattered, the world remains the same, broken and unfair. As Prufrock later contemplates: “Do I dare/ Disturb the universe?…Would it have been worth while/ To have bitten off the matter with a smile,? To have squeezed the universe into a ball?” Johnny loses his life trying to strike against an unjust world, yet he is scarcely a memory to most residents of Night City, who do not have time to contemplate what is right and what is wrong; their focus must be on survival. 

Interestingly enough, both the poem and Cyberpunk reference similar secondary materials. Prufrock references Lazarus and Hamlet as he contemplates how he will never lead an exciting existence. Lazarus, much like V/Johnny, famously rose from the dead. Hamlet is a reoccurring theme in the storyline; Prufrock, V/Johnny, and Hamlet all are faced having to inevitably make a very difficult decision, the latter two involving tragedy for all no matter what. It’s also up for debate whether Hamlet is turning mad, similar to how we can’t be sure how much Johnny is driving V “mad” by taking over their mind. Despite this comparison, V/Johnny are no Hamlet/Lazarus. They are Prufrock; their lives, and their deaths, are meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Despite their efforts, they will simply fade away until they remain only in the memories of those they left behind. The play is further referenced as Jackie’s grave reads “Goodnight, sweet Prince,” and in a deleted audio file Johnny tells V “Sleep well prince/princess” before taking control if V chooses to attack Arasaka with Rogues help. What makes this more interesting is when you look at the line in which Hamlet is mentioned:

“No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;

Am an attendant lord, one that will do

To swell a progress, start a scene or two,

Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,

Deferential, glad to be of use,

Politic, cautious, and meticulous;

Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—

Almost, at times, the Fool.”

The Fool, which is mentioned several times by Misty, represents V and Johnny, in the journey that is told by the major arcane in tarot. The beginning of a journey — of a cycle — while the Death card symbolizes the ending of one phase and the beginning of another. An often painful transformation into something new. The main theme of Eliot’s poem is cycles; he  talks himself in circles, never making a choice, always ending up where he begins. Circles are mentioned once again by Kerry during his personal mission, when he talks about beginning a new cycle in his life. V/Johnny’s journey together begins with death, and so it must end that way for them; whether it is a physical death, or a death of the self. No matter what, V’s fate is inevitable; they will face death again head-on, just as they did at the beginning of their story. The chosen passages of this poem asserts this cycle — the first three words of Alt’s first and last sentence are the same: 

“Let us go.” 

[where-theres-smoak-2]

The Problem With Grisha

 Spoiler alert for the first two grishaverse books, Shadow and Bone, Siege and Storm, also for the first season of Shadow and Bone. 

I don’t know if its necessarily a problem as that may be bad wording for it but there is something strange about the way the Grisha are written.  Now that I’ve watched the show and read the first two books I’ve been thinking more about this. The strange thing about the way Bardugo chose to write the Grisha is that she writes them as being both a minority and oppressed group that are hunted and killed but also as a privileged group. You get this really weird scenario where you’ve got the First Army looking at the Grisha as privileged and who are treated better than them in that they are given nicer accommodation in the army camps, they are given these bulletproof uniforms (the Keftas) whereas First Army are sent in as cannon fodder and have to have their sugar rationed. They are also treated with healers whereas first army are sent to medical. In the first episode too you can see the Grisha acting in a privileged way with the squaller challenging Mal to a fight knowing that if Mal wins he’ll be arrested and if he loses he could be seriously injured. With Zoya reminding Mal that stealing from second army will get him ‘put in a hole.’ Mal’s comment about the grisha always bulling them whilst the general is away. In the second episode you’ve got the first army general referring to the Grisha as ‘those fancy folks’ and talking about how when he joined the army his superiors considered Grisha lives to be more important than those of the first army. The grisha live and train in a palace. And having read the books I’ve learned there's even this hierarchy within the second army where some ranks are more favoured than others. All of this paints the Grisha as this privileged, elite force. 

But then on the flipside of it we are also shown that Grisha are oppressed, they are forced to fight the King’s wars just as much as the First Army soldiers are. They are hunted and prosecuted and experimented on. They are shown to be feared and hated by not just the Fjerdans and the Shu Han but their own people too. In the second book we learn that after the fight in the Fold between Alina and the Darkling the First Army turn on the Grisha even tearing them from their beds and killing them to the point where many Grisha have to run and hide. In the show the Apparat tells Alina that the peasants hate the Grisha because the Grisha do not suffer and yet we are shown on countless occasions that the Grisha do suffer. 

I can’t help but wonder why Bardugo wrote them this way, as this kind of paradox where they represent these two opposing archetypes. Taking a guess I’d say it was because of the way she was trying to present the Darkling and Alina and what I mean by that is under the Darkling’s rule the second army is segregated into these ranks, the Corporalki, The Etherealki and the Materialki, and they are ranked in that order with the Corporalki being the most favoured and the Materialki the least. Then when Alina becomes the second army general in siege and storm one of the first things she does is get rid of this favouritism. She encourages the three ranks to sit together at dinner and for the First army and the grisha to bond. I think its obvious that Bardugo was trying to show the difference between Alina and the Darkling, its very much Darkling ‘bad’ because he wants the Grisha ranks segregated and he doesn’t encourage friendship between the two armies. But Alina she represents unity and so is the ‘good guy’. However I personally don’t think it really works because there are too many other contradictions. Like its painted as the Darkling encourages this rank climbing and competition within the Grisha and this, I’m better than you, type attitude and yet we also know that he encourages the grisha to be humble and has them eat peasant fare. Its painted like the Darkling didn’t encourage unity between the first and second armies yet we also know that he discouraged bullying between them and that the first and second army worked together to cross the Fold in the skiffs to get supplies for the first army. There just seems to be too many contradictions. I don’t know I just think maybe it would have made more sense to have the Grisha be one or the other. Like to have them be an elite force that rules over the first army and have privilege, power and wealth. I feel like then this whole power corrupts theme would have fit in better because as it is, whilst they are presented as having some luxuries they are mostly materialistic, like the palace and nicer tents and nicer clothes, meanwhile they are shown to be very downtrodden and as being hunted. Whilst they have these powers that make them special as the first army general said with the advance in weaponry it won’t be long before the grisha are as useless as the rest of them. Which ties in with what the darkling says in the books about the age of grisha power coming to an end. I feel like with having them be both oppressed and privileged (if you even really can be both) you get this very confused message or moral of the story. Because  you’ve got this villain who is craving power, who is hungry for it and you’ve got this army of grisha where some of them are also craving power and this is being shown as being bad, dangerous, the message here is don’t crave too much power, you’ve got a villain who becomes a tyrant and makes others suffer and is this symbol of the powerful hurting the weak for their own gain. But then he’s got this backstory where he is doing all of this in an attempt to save his people from prosecution. So now I am sitting here wondering what is the message here, is it that you shouldn’t save your people from prosecution? Or is it that sometimes good intentions can lead you down a dark path of corruption when you seek too much power? See if it were the second that might work, but only if you proved an opposite solution to it. For example if Alina had another solution to end the grisha’s oppression without committing all the dark deeds that the darkling does, if she ends their sufferings without giving in to the corruption of power. But so far she hasn’t, so far all Alina has been focused on is destroying the fold, but we are also told both in the books and the show that the grisha have been prosecuted and hated long before the fold was created. Sure it didn’t help but the people never needed it as a reason to hate or hunt grisha. So really what is destroying the fold going to do in terms of making things better for the grisha? The other thing Alina is focused on destroying is the darkling. So you’ve got the heroine of the story who is trying to destroy the man who is trying to save their people from prosecution because he has become too corrupt and power hungry, but she herself also doesn’t have any other solution to the Grisha’s plight. I mean maybe she’ll come up with some kind of solution in the third book and I’ll have to eat my words but as of right now I just feel like the message or moral could be clearer. 

Like I said I feel like it might have worked better if the grisha were written as the ruling power of their world. As the elite and the first army as the oppressed who struggle to get supplies and who are used as cannon fodder as the grisha sit back in their fancy tents. You could then have the advancement of their enemy weaponry coming in and with the grisha’s abilities being less useful their power begins to slip away and maybe the first army sense this and try to rise up against them. The darkling fearing the loss of power then has the whole power corrupts thing going on and enter Alina who grew up outside of the little palace and so never had the power and privilege of the grisha and understands the plight of the oppressed first army, she ousts the Darkling and becomes the new general and teaches the grisha that they must stand against their enemies and can only defeat the fold by uniting with the first army. Then you’ve got that clear message of Alina, the hero, teaching the powerful to reach out a helping hand and rise up the weak, to stand united and to create a system that benefits everyone equally, one of unity.   

Who knows maybe I’m thinking too much into this. But either way I’ve rambled on about this enough so I am going to leave it there.     

[jostepherjoestar]

An Educational Favour: I

NOTsfw // FEM! reader & pronouns

warnings/notes: 18+ content, minors dni, it’s Illuso x reader but also Risotto, casual discussions of virginity, interc0urse, v0yeurism?, questionable group dynamics

part 1- 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 -7

PART I: 🪞Illuso🪞

“No.” A simple reply shifting the mood that previously dominated the conversation.  A casual and perhaps a bit nervous one had now transformed into slight embarrassment and coyness, Risotto’s stern dark eyes boring into yours as you wished to retract your words. “Why?” Courage having left your voice, a dejected curiosity more prevalent as your eyes begged for a different answer. The tall man was mulling over the question, trying to come up with an answer that would satisfy you. He truly did want to aid you but he knew it would be for the best to find another solution. “You’re not ready. Starting with me just wouldn’t be wise.” The stoic man made sure to interlace his rejection with a hint of compassion, trying to make it obvious that he hadn’t intended on hurting your feelings. As you assessed his answer an idea sprung to life making you straighten your back and causing an earnest glimmer to grace your eyes as they widened. “Then I won’t start with you. What about the rest? They’d agree, no?” 

Clambering at the edge of the large oaken desk with impatient fingers, needing an instant reply from your capo. Noticing the absolute eagerness and understanding where it came from, the man let out a sigh as he rubbed his troubled forehead. “Fine. I’m sure those perverts have been aching for it. Just be sure you want this. Be very sure.” He intoned his reply to let his words sink in, your excitement could cause you blindness and it was a delicate situation to handle. To be completely honest you hadn’t really thought it over much but you knew deep down this is what you wanted, even to just satiate the hungry curiosity that gnawed at you. “I’m sure. Thank you Risotto!” Not even sure why you were thanking your superior, perhaps since he’d be the one organising this sinful inquiry of yours. You felt the nerves transform into to excited tingles as they made their way to your lower stomach, whatever was in store would be deliciously educational. 

Risotto felt the need to keep rubbing confined circles into his temples like he was massaging the ridiculousness of the request into a more logical one. It’s not everyday one of your most loyal subordinates comes knocking on your door casually asking to take their virtue and let them gain experience on the most intimate of subjects. You had so casually asked him, he almost let his surprise get the best of him, adjusting his position in the creaky chair after hearing your soft voice requesting his sexual experience like you were asking for another helping of food. But he couldn’t just defile you, his size alone would serve as a problem. There was no denying his faithful teammate was an attractive addition to the team alongside the heap of men he’d grown so used to seeing and that he’d sinfully fantasised about you in the past, ashamed of himself for even thinking it. There was also no denying it took all his strength and commitment not to agree immediately. Now he’d taken on the roll of tutor, guiding his student through an obstacle course of depravity. 

The stern capo wasn’t sure how to bring this idea to his men, sure that they’d all agree, having heard their lewd conversations after a drink or two, getting to know their utmost desires. Unfortunate for him personally, but fortunate for you, he’d retained the dirty information the men had given him of their sexual fantasies. “We should call a meeting, if that’s alright with you.” That eager glint still ever present in your eyes, bouncing with every word on the cushioned chair, ready to get started on this journey of discovery. Who knew your beloved colleagues would get the chance to ruin your innocence. But it’s what you so gladly craved, having no other contacts outside of the squad and being absolutely terrible at making new ones your decision to look to your inner circle opted to be a successful one. 

You’d known them for a year now, having joined the squad of assassins after working diligently under a different division. Never had a team brought you such joy to work with, it was a macabre thought, but finding any sort of joy in this line of work served you well. You knew it to be out of the norm but nothing in this underground landscape was in any way inside society’s definition of normal. This whole happening seemed adventurous, but more tame than some stories you’ve heard from others. 

The room was silent, each member a different shade of red with varying degrees of lengths that their mouth hung open with. All the while you sat happily at the head of the table, a foot lower than your stern eyed capo who’d made peace with the situation. “So what do you guys think? We’d all get tested of course, we don’t need us all catching something…” your excitement trailing off as you scanned the eyes of the men before you. “We made a rough list of who’d go first, based on the sensitive info you’ve all so willingly provided to Risotto in the past.” You winked cheekily at Melone who had offered quite the thorough list of things he so lovingly liked to indulge in. The purple haired one seemingly one of the few who were visibly excited by the suggestion already, like you’d just crossed off a desire on his list. No one seemed to want to interject, still busy processing the information. “After some consideration, we -Risotto and I- have concluded that Illuso can go first.” You announced as you turned to the man in question. He’d been quite surprised at the proposal but that left quickly when he heard your conclusion. A smug smile taking over his plump lips, a wolf calculating his best course of action to get his prey. 

“There is one condition.” Risotto spoke up for the first time since he commenced the meeting, his voice seeming to snap Pesci out of his catatonic state. “I’ll be there to watch. A tutor of sorts.” Illuso cleared his throat at the thought of his capo supervising his every move but he felt a familiar tinge of excitement make itself known. He knew he was vain, a modern-day narcissus, another soul to bask in his beauty and skills would only stroke his ego more than you would stroke him. “Alright bella, when do we get started? Wear something pretty.” He cheaply winked at you but the angry glare of his capo halted any further advances, you felt relieved to have him by your side through this, knowing full well that you’d let these men have at it, Risotto there as observer and guardrail for any unwanted advances not previously agreed upon. Not that you’d expect any of the sort to occur. Some more details were discussed but not much of the further list had been issued, letting the tension build for extra provocation. There would be more private conversations after the first time, all depending on your terms.  

The white laced edge of the newest, be it the first, addition to your lingerie collection sat comfortably against your tender skin. Breast aptly supported by the soft fabric’s pattern that merely guided your mounds into a natural position instead of raising them upwards. Your hips and behind so tenderly hugged by the coincidentally virtuous choice of colour, the thought only making you chuckle under your breath as you slid on a flowy dress to ready yourself for the exciting happening. The red eyed assassin would be your first guest to be intimate with, ever. If you were honest with yourself, you knew he wasn’t the ideal candidate but you felt it beyond need to finally get it over with, to experience intimate pleasure with another even if it was for selfish reasons. If you craved romance and mushy swooning you’d have searched for that instead. The added scandal of it being your teammate, under your capo’s watchful eye, made it all the more thrilling. Heat already making itself known between your ample thighs as you approached Illuso’s room. 

The door had been left ajar leaving you no choice but to carefully push it open to enter the dimly lit room. It smelled like Illuso, a musky fragrance that lingered behind him often, as if to make you cartoonishly follow the source of the sweet smell. There he sat on the bed, dipped mattress as he leaned back on his arms to show off his toned torso, muscles looking even more defined in the low light. His soft hair cascaded down his toned shoulder, released of their usual restraints. 

It was a pleasant view as you meekly smiled, the nerves setting in but you wanted this so badly, your courage keeping you going. Just as you were about to speak Risotto’s large figure slid by you to place himself into the middle of the small room. Giving you a once over with his eyes that seemed to be curtained by his frowned eyebrows, leading you to believe he was feeling a bit tense as well. Which he was. The sight of your innocently flouncy dress, knowing he’d find out soon what hid underneath made it hard to think clearly. He’d be here to observe and help, just in case. Here to see just what you liked and remember it, the face you made or the sounds you let out, the dirty words that would leave your wanton lips. 

“Are you ready?” His husky voice doing its best not to sound too heavy with need. You nodded quickly, mouth feeling a little dry already. “I need to hear you say it.” Risotto sat down in the chair in the corner of the room, facing the bed Illuso was so casually posed upon. His command only erupting tingles from below. “Yes, I’m ready.” You complied, slightly licking your lips to wet them again, the movement evoking a flash of lust behind the capo’s eyes. But he was made to merely observe by his own volition. 

Illuso’s buttery smooth voice groaned with pleasure as he got up to approach you, that wolfish look he had during the meeting having made its return. A heavy haze of lust clouding his crimson eyes as he slinked his hand around your waist, pulling you into his chest. His touch felt pleasantly forceful, his other hand now cradling your delicate neck to guide you closer to his handsome face. You could feel his warm breath from above you, you felt your heartbeat starting to rise above average at the new sensation of being held so tightly with this kind of intent. He steered you into his lips, starting an engaging kiss, his plump lips pressing against yours as his tongue toyed with your bottom lip. Swiping at the partition, teasing you to open up for him, and you did, earning a mewl from you as he grabbed onto your ass, fingers clinging tightly to his unclothed sides for support. You could feel his lips curl into a smile as he further squeezed and kneaded your plush behind while he continued toying with your tongue. “This wasn’t your first kiss, now was it?” He devilishly smiled while pulling away, his grasp still firm on you as his hand held you in place to look at him. “It wasn’t.” You said quietly, lips plump and wet from his actions. His smile communicated a silent “I thought so.” while he stepped away to admire your form. 

“Take that off.” Gesturing toward the flowy dress. You didn’t dare look in the direction of your capo, too enamoured by the intoxicating man in front of you. You did as he commanded, hoisting the dress over your body by the hem, exposing the white set that looked ravishing on you. “Mhh so that’s what you’ve been hiding from us?” He practically purred the barbed complement, quickly averting his eyes to Risotto to check if he’d react to his comments. Your capo didn’t pay it any mind, his eyes still fixated on you, feeling his own desire grow. Noticing his broody nature, Illuso couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of another eyeing his prize for tonight, coming back over to guide you onto his silken sheets. 

He motioned for you to lay down comfortably all the while scanning your curves hungrily. The new feeling of being desired not one you disliked, returning the favour as you stared at his muscled arms adjusting your legs open as he caressed them. An appreciative hum like melted chocolate dripping from a spoon at the sight of the tainted lace resting over your core. “Already so eager.” His hand creeping ever closer to your inner thighs, his figure moving to lean over you, making sure your eyes were aimed at his at all times. You stifled a moan as he moved his fingers over your clothed folds with a gentle touch, his lustful eyes eating up every contortion of your face as he caressed further. “Have you touched yourself before, carina? Mhh, made yourself come?” His lewd words teasing you just like his fingers which were sliding the pretty panties off with ease. You nodded while humming in agreement, gaze still glued on his ruby red ones, he was pleased to hear the answer. 

“Oh, so you don’t mind if I slide a finger or two inside your pretty pussy, tesoro?” As soon as he spoke his lecherous words you felt a warm thick finger slip inside you making you gasp in pleasure. Illuso ate up how your expression scrunched, dipping small pecks along your jaw as he moved in and out of your core slowly. It felt similar to when your own fingers exploded yourself but the feeling of another doing it raised goosebumps all over. Your back arching as he slid in another, moving at an increased pace while bending his fingers just right, teasing a spot you had never reached, sending jolts of pleasure through you. “P-please touch me more.” You begged, the whines so pathetically cute like music to Illuso’s ears. The man moved away from over you, instead taking place by your hips where his other hand started toying with your clit as your back arched even further. Another beautiful moan escaping you, the loudest one at that, sure the others were hearing it, the thought only driving you further into pleasure. 

The way he moved around your sensitive bud while gliding into your wet core bringing you closer and closer. Your chest was heaving, stiffened nipples poking at the lace while you grabbed one to offer it attention, Illuso was too busy beneath you. Part of you wished Risotto would come over and give your breasts the attention they craved but you knew he wouldn’t. The thought made you turn your head to see how your capo was faring, panting at the continued pleasure while searching for his dark eyes. He kept them on you, his expression unchanged but the tightness of his cock pressing against his trousers being ever clear. As you eyed his girth, salivating at the sight, it only caused you to get even more aroused. “Touch yourself Risotto- please.” You panted, words starting to slur as your orgasm moved closer, Illuso’s fingers curling just right while his others moved over your engorged clit. As your capo stroked himself over his pants, focused on your pleasure you felt the familiar rise of heat sparking, igniting a bigger burst of flames as you reached your orgasm, gasping for air as your eyes screwed shut and your jaw slacked, mumbling Illuso’s name as he let you ride it out, your wetness coating his fingers. 

“Well done amore, look at you, already so comfortable in ordering us around.” He crooned, the warmth of his voice a satisfying sound to hear while regaining your breath. “No time to waste, up on your feet.” The man commanded while removing the remainder of clothing that had restrained his member. You felt a bit wobbly on your feet, your core still reeling from pleasure as you did as he asked, watching as his stiff length, already dripping with pre-come bobbed at its release. The tip was blushed pink, from what you guessed he was above average with a slight bend inwards, it was pretty just like him. Clean shaven, not even a bump in sight, it truly matched his personality. Removing your bra to free your breasts you slung the fabric behind you while taking Illuso in for another needy kiss, the bruising strength behind it only making you want it more. 

You could feel his hardness rub against you while your warmed chest and pert nipples rubbed against him. He let go of the kiss guiding you over to the floor length mirror that stood only half a meter away from Risotto, who was -as you so nicely asked- pleasing himself while he kept his eyes on you. You were thoroughly impressed by his length and girth, understanding why he might not have wanted to be your first. Noticing your distraction Illuso grabbed ahold of your face, his arm reaching from behind you as you were positioned in front of the mirror with him breathing down your neck. “Now. You keep your eyes on me ok? You better hold onto something.” He growled against your neck, sucking at your skin while you grabbed onto the sides of the mirror. He lined himself up with your now dripping folds, parting your legs with one of his for better access. The cooler air invigorated your senses as you felt his spongy tip prod at your entrance. 

One arm swung over your waist, pressing you tightly into his torso, his stern grip on you so intoxicating, “Has he always been this intense?” you pondered. Not that there was much time for that, his cock already sliding in slowly, mewls escaping your rosy lips as you settled back into him. The melodic sounds from you only egging him on, that devilish grin eating up your reflection as his gaze bored into yours. He moved in deeper at a delicate pace, toying with your breast, kneading and pinching a blushed nipple. As he fully sheathed himself inside, groaning into your ears, the sound sending a shudder down your spine as you pressed yourself closer against him, grip still tight on the mirror's edge. The man started moving now, a certain roll in his hips while he bucked into you, the smoothness of his motions containing a certain level of skill. He obviously knew what he was doing and he was certainly aware of it as he proudly gawked at you from behind, basking in the pleasure he was giving you. 

“See how good I’m fucking you. It didn’t even hurt, none of those buffoons could make your first time feel so good.” His ego was cruising at an exorbitantly high altitude but he was right, the way he worked his fingers inside you before hadn’t hurt and neither did his deliciously bent cock. You felt yourself lucky at receiving such pleasure, after having heard many first time horror stories. But the thoughts didn’t distract you for long. His pace was quickening and his panting getting louder, warming your neck as he sucked on your skin in between breaths. The rolls of his hips sending pleasurable waves over you, but not enough to grant another orgasm yet. As if he listened in on your thoughts, the hand that had been so kindly servicing your breast moved down between your folds, toying with the sensitive bud. The overwhelming sensation of his cock that crooked ever so slightly into your natural curvature, caressing that spot inside he tickled before just right, and the added stimulation of your clit made you lose balance for a second, glad Illuso’s grip was so tight around you. 

It was all beginning to get too much, the fast movements of his cock against your walls sending you reeling over the edge as his fingers moved over your clit, the sensation of all the energy careening through your body making you moan out a slur of “oh god”’s while he soaked up your pleasure. The way your walls clenched around his cock made him let out a melodic moan as well, you clenched so well around him. It only made him want to go faster, lost in achieving his own pleasure. He could feel himself get closer too, aching to release himself all over your pretty face, wanting to mark you, even just temporarily. His pride pushing him onwards as the thought of coming on your face in front of his capo only encouraged him, making him twitch inside of you while he slowed himself. 

“On your knees now, cara.” His release from you was swift, your oversensitive core glad at the break of stimulation as he slid out with a lewd sound. Sitting down neatly in front of him, positioned just right for Risotto to observe while he looked about ready to release too, the twitch in his eyebrow and the fervour of his stroke radiating intensity. Illuso jerked his length with a supple wrist as you presented yourself to him like the good girl you were. Pumping once, twice and thrice until he groaned loudly as stripes of come coated your face, the salty liquid dripping all over while you tasted a few drops. A new bitter taste you weren’t sure you enjoyed just yet. As Illuso breathed heavily, lightly stroking himself to release every single droplet, Risotto followed suit. Shots of heavy come coating his hands as he slowed his fist. A deep sigh of relief following him, his usual quietness carried through in moments like these, making you wonder if he’d be as silent if he had you all to himself. 

“You’ll clean yourself up, won’t you?” Illuso coolly said while grabbing a towel from his closet, like nothing had just happened. His usual demeanour already returning. “Oh, uhm ok yeah.” You weren’t really sure what to do, having been wrong to think he’d grab you a towel as well, he just wrapped it around his carved hips and left for the shower. Your legs felt sore and you could still feel your heartbeat in your core. “What an ass.” Risotto sighed as he tucked himself away, a compassionate look in his eyes. You never put much thought into what would happen after the fact, only having minded the actual event. 

“Come on, I’ll get you cleaned up. You did good.” The tall man had moved over to steal a soft towel from Illuso’s closet, anger flurrying in his chest at the way the man acted after getting his fill. You quickly collected the shed clothes, clutching them to yourself as you accepted the towel gratefully, Risotto taking the heap from you and wrapping the towel around your form. His kindness did not go unnoticed but you’d rather thank him after wiping the goop from your face. 

Sat on the edge of the tub of your capo’s personal bathroom he used a warm washcloth to gently wipe at your face. “Don’t accept that type of shit, even with this arrangement. Aftercare is important.” His voice was soft as you let him take care of you, knowing this is the exact reason you’d asked him to handle the arrangement first. “Thank you... I know this is unusual- this whole situation. I really appreciate it.” Your smaller hand squeezing his forearm tentatively as you met his serious gaze. He hesitated, just for a second, before continuing his cleanup, nudging you up again to twist the knob on the faucet behind you. “Take your time, you could be sore tomorrow.” The water rushed out in haste, your caring capo leaving you to your thoughts. 

You relaxed into the soapy water, letting the bubbles and foam envelop you, the warm water loosening your tired muscles as you recollected yourself. “What a bizarre way to live.” You chuckled to yourself, settling your aching hips. Feeling relieved at how good it felt, your first time finally over with and having gone better than expected (at least until before Illuso came), already curious at your next endeavour. 

[cafeinthemoon]

Madara with s/o who’s secretly developing a new (and dangerous) jutsu 🔥

And finally we have the third Grandpa with is s/o doing dangerous things under his nose haha As I said before, each Founder’s part ended up too long so I divided the request in three and I hope the anon who requested it don’t get mad at me because of this XD Anyway, if you want to read what I wrote for Hashirama and Tobirama, you can click on their names 😉

Now let’s go to see Madara’s reaction!

Fandom: Naruto | Madara Uchiha

Symbols: 💗 | ◻ | ▶▶

As you can easily imagine, things are way different when it comes to Madara in such situation

Because unlike his partners who took some time to actually go after you and find out what you’ve been up to, he does it right at the first night

Okay, you use to went out every night for your personal training and that’s not strange at all, but that time he notices little differences in the process

An extra pack of ink tub and scrolls that you decide to put on your bag, a change of clothes (something you never carry with you in normal training sessions), extra medicine, these kind of things

Everything is pointing to two possibilities: whether you’re going to stay out for longer or you’re creating/perfecting a technique, and a complex one

Madara is not only an observant man: he’s curious, and unlike the Senjus the idea of invading your privacy is not enough to stop him from following you that night

It’s how he finds out you’ve been working to create a new jutsu

But you’ve created other jutsu before. Why would you have to hide the process of this one from him?

The only way to find out is to watch you perform it and understand of kind of jutsu you’re creating

At first, he’s content in doing it. He’s interested in your technique, as well as to see how far you can get with it

But at the end of the session, he notices you’re more tired than you usually get after training

The obvious explanation is in the jutsu: it is not finished yet, so the amount of chakra it demands is yet to be defined. But he’s confident that you’ll soon find a way to fix this

He’s careful enough to go back home before you so you don’t notice he was out

When you cross the door, he comes to help you since you’re exhausted. He does the basic stuff to take care of you: runs you a bath, washes your hair, change your clothes, bring you some food and take you to bed

He has done this before after you came back from difficult missions

He also avoids questioning you, so you never get suspicions

And things stay like this for the next days

However, Madara sees that your tiredness is increasing at each night, and contrary to what he thought, you don’t do anything to fix the problem of chakra control

Is it possible that you’re unaware of the problem? No, it can’t be. You’re smarter than this

And because he refuses to see that you are in fact unaware of it, he doesn’t interfere, and your bruises and waste of chakra get worse as time passes

(Still, the jutsu is progressing in its other aspects, so you’re hopeful about completing it in the next days)

One night, he finally acknowledges your failure and decided to intervene

And thank God he does that in time

Now the jutsu is almost complete, you are almost at the final stage of your work and making the final moves, but the possibility of this being your death is real and Madara can’t let this happen while he’s watching

When he leaves his spot and grabs you in his arms, stopping you from completing the hand seals, you are frightened

You weren’t expecting to have company, and once you look in his eyes you understand everything

He has been watching you all this time, and maybe in the previous nights, ready to take action in case things get out of control

But things are under control right now, so why did he do that?, you ask yourself right before passing out with exhaustion

When you wake up, you notice you are back in your room. Each part of your body hurts and the morning light enters through the window. You can’t even think clearly

Only then you realize that the amount of chakra consumed by your jutsu was something abnormal (and that you should have paid more attention to that)

After falling asleep and waking up again, you finally manage to remember what happened that night: you were about to do something really irresponsible, but lucky you, Madara was there and stopped you

You look around and spot him entering the door with some medicine

At the exact moment your looks meet, he leaves the medicine aside and approaches you

He sits by your side and puts his palm on your forehead

“Fortunately, y/n, the fever diminished during the night. It is probably the effect of the treatment I’ve been applying to your bruises”

You don’t reply. You just nod with the energy you got

“Some of them will heal soon. Others are more serious”

How serious?, you want to ask

“Serious enough to keep you on this bed for the next days and not even think of performing any jutsu during this period” he says as if he just read your thoughts

There are many things you want to say, you want to ask, but you sense this is not the time

You two just exchange a look that says everything: you will talk about what happened when you’re recovered

Madara is a practical and organized man when he needs to be

He chooses a good medical ninja to examine you as the first measure and makes sure their instructions are being followed

However he prefers to do everything by himself

Not that you find it bad, though: he knows you better than anyone, so he knows how to take care of you

If you need to leave the bed for a moment (because lying all the day can be tiring too), he takes you out of the room at the right time. If you just want to stay quiet and alone in bed, he leaves you there

He seems to sense any minor discomfort you have and act to diminish it: a massage to cease the tiredness in your muscles, a lotion to the bruises that are still burning, stuff like this

Finally you are fully capable of leaving the bed and the house without help

You’re not getting back to work yet, but now you’re able to have the conversation about the incident

You tell him everything from the start: how the idea of the jutsu came out, your reasons to take it ahead, your measures to protect yourself and why you didn’t give up despite the risk of the technique

You also explain that no, you never noticed the failure responsible for the unbalanced chakra consumption that almost killed you. You only noticed that when you were under the treatment, and were willing to tell this to him

Madara listens to you without interrupting. Indeed, he seems interested in everything you have to tell about this jutsu

At the end of your explanation, you understand why

He says he has been observing your progress with the jutsu since the first night, when he found out about your project, and that he quickly noticed the failure in it

However, he didn’t want to interfere and were hoping that you would fix the failure soon, which you didn’t. And that’s why he stopped you from finishing the technique

Here you see the difference etween being with Madara and being with anyone else: somehow you’re not surprised to know that you’ve been followed, nor angry that he waited to stop you in a crucial point. Instead, you’re willing to know what he has in mind. You never think of the present; it’s always about the future

“Y/n, at first I was just moved by curiosity about your secret project, but the more I learned from it, the more I wanted to know. Now that you revealed the ideology behind it, not only I find this jutsu of yours impressive, but I believe it would be a mistake not to finish it”

You hold your breath. But you almost died because of this jutsu ???

He smiles, guessing your thoughts

“I will help you to fix the failure. And then you will try the jutsu on me”

He states that though he can understand the theory behind the jutsu, there are some details he can only check if he experiences it on himself

You can’t help smiling

Yes, it’s a practical solution for a big problem, but it also points out Madara’s level of self confidence and enthusiasm. The proposal sounds like something only he would do, and this is so funny

Yet it’s your only chance to save your technique and make all your hard work pay off, so you accept it and immediately start to make plans

Of course it will take some days until you can go to the first session because you’re still weak

But once you get better, you will start to work

When the day finally comes, you are nervous, but determined

The first thing Madara asks you is to perform the technique and be prepared, because he will stop it at the moment when the failure shows

He wants to understand where exactly is the problem

You do this a few times until he finds it

You make a pause and he explains the situation. You say you noticed the nature of the failure too, but couldn’t find a counteraction for it

Well, Madara has an idea, and he tells it to you

It involves changing one or two hand seals and alter the way you manage your chakra at same moment

You try again following these instructions. It’s not that easy, but you do your best

And to your joy, it works

You try other times, and soon your body memorizes the procedure

You write down new notes on your scroll and revise them with Madara

At the end of the day, you are tired, but feeling rewarded. You also apologize for not asking for his help before, even though you already told him you wanted to prove your own value by doing everything by yourself

He says you don’t need to apologize now that the jutsu is finally completed, and makes you promise that you will always try your new techniques on him from now on

You laugh hard at this and do your promise

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Not Bad

Prompts: Hihi, i have a Merlin prompt if you're interested. Merlin thinks he's a bad person bec he was taught that magic is bad, but also Bec of all the stuff he did/does to keep Arthur safe and ig throw in some touch starved!Merlin too for fun. But the knights compliment/hug/etc all the time and Merlin just doesn't understand what he's supposed to do with this, so the solution is to breakdown crying and try to convince the knights he's the bad person he sees himself as and the knights are just like "but you're wrong and he's 25 reasons why you're wrong" Plz, thx, love your writing - anon

im a fuckin sucker for soft knights & arthur w merlin so, if ur still takings reqs, i would love to see when the knights realize merlin still views himself as a "monster" like is hinted in first ep (? i thinkk, im rusty on my merlin trivia)- is it a passing comment he makes and they realize all together? knight cuddle pile? just give the poor boy some love - anon

if you'd want to write it i'd love to see the collective moment that the knights realize that merlin is self-harming in some way (in my brain this is probably in like a denial-of-things type thing that he probably doesn't even see as self-harm bc he's an idiot, could even be something like healing everyone else w magic but refusing to heal himself... idk feel free to do whatever you see fit!). i can only imagine they'd be frustrated with him and themselves but theyre just loving large idiots (': - anon

ahh yes all the prompts

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: implied/referenced self-harm in the form of intentionally depriving oneself of physical contact because THAT COUNTS

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic I don't care

Word Count: 3462

Arthur is confused, very upset, and nothing is alright anymore, thank you very much.

Because you see, despite the image that he tries to present—emphasis on the word ‘try’, there, according to his knights—he does care an awful lot about his people, especially his one particular person that happens to be able to say an awful lot without saying anything.

Merlin. He’s talking about Merlin, in case you hadn’t noticed.

The problem is that for all the man can ramble on about seemingly anything, at any time, he’s remarkably good at saying absolutely nothing about himself. He claims he’s an open book, but he’s certainly in a language that Arthur doesn’t know how to read.

He does know how to read, just to clarify. That isn’t the issue here.

No, no, the issue is that after months, years, almost a decade of Merlin by his side, watching his back, taking care of him, he’s discovered that there’s a secret that Merlin’s keeping from him. One he never intended to tell Arthur.

And before you panic, no, he’s not talking about Merlin’s magic.

Come on, it’s not like it’s not obvious, the man isn’t exactly good at hiding it. Does he seriously believe Arthur can’t see the tree branches that miraculously pick themselves up and fly at the nearest bandit or the spears that fling themselves at the foe about to behind Gwaine? Or the chores that mysteriously get done too fast for Merlin and far too efficiently? Or the way certain magical ailments seem to vanish mysteriously along with his idiot of a servant only to be greeted with a soft shrug when he pokes?

Merlin’s eyes also turn gold, that’s pretty neat.

So Merlin has magic.

Yes, we know, we had a small tantrum over the fact that he told Lancelot first, but it’s fine. Quite frankly, a lot of things make more sense now.

Except for this. Not this.

Merlin is hiding the secret that he believes he’s a bad person.

Now, Arthur’s not sure if you’ve met Merlin, but the man isn’t exactly the image of the evildoer that springs to mind when someone says ‘bad person.’

The Witch Finder, now there’s a bad person. Storming into Camelot, preying on the fear of the people, bribing and threatening and drugging people, torturing them, and condemning them to death just for the sake of a few coins.

Merlin did storm into Camelot, that is true, but he decided to pick a fight with the crown prince and then save his life. He’s not here for coin—if he were, they wouldn’t have had that small, er, issue about the steward not paying him anything for his work for the past eight years, honestly—and he’s certainly not preying on anyone’s fears. Except perhaps Arthur’s fear of losing his dignity.

The look on his father’s face when Merlin dodged the pillow…

Speaking of his father…there’s another one.

His father did not prey as openly on the people’s fear—or as obviously as Aredian, but prey on them he did. He was a strong king, sometimes too strong. He was a blind king, saw the people as nothing more than subjects, not the living breathing humans they are. He remembers Morgana’s voice, saying that authority should derive from the consent of the governed, not from the threat of force.

He always wanted to see Uther’s face when his ward—when his daughter said that to him.

And what he’s done to Morgana…

Arthur grimaces and shakes his head. Perhaps the very truth that he resents the idea of thinking about what Uther did to Morgana, to him…perhaps that is enough.

Those are bad people. At least to Arthur.

Merlin, on the other hand…

Merlin came into Camelot, knowing that if it was discovered that he has magic, he would be burnt at the stake. He came, not with any aspirations of glory, simply because he trusted his mother when she told him to come to Gaius. He came and he was given a job he never asked for, one he had no idea how to do, and stayed.

Merlin learned. Slowly, perhaps, but he learned. Now he has enough knowledge on what a servant should do to break the rules in the most spectacular fashion. Arthur smiles, biting back the chuckle at seeing George dressed up like Merlin and acting perfectly proper and the urge Arthur had to throw him out of the room.

And that’s not even mentioning what he does when he’s not following Arthur around.

Merlin learned. Merlin stayed.

Not just for Gaius, but for Arthur.

Arthur leans onto his desk, staring out into the courtyard where Merlin is tending to the knights’ horses as they mount up for patrol. He watches Leon step a little closer, lowering his head to mutter something to him, watching Gwaine clap Merlin on the shoulder.

Watches Merlin flinch a little too hard.

Watches Leon’s brow furrow and Gwaine take a step back.

This. This is the problem.

Merlin believes he’s a bad person. Which is wrong, but for some reason, he does.

And because Merlin believes he’s a bad person, he believes that anytime one of the knights touches him—or anyone touches him—it will be to hurt him.

How did they come to this conclusion, you may ask?

Arthur bites back a snarl as he turns away from the window.

It had started with the complements.

Gwaine, to no one’s surprise, was quite fond of flirting with anyone and everyone that would let him, Merlin no exception. Talking about Merlin’s looks, his personality, his work ethic, anything, and everything. Merlin would flush, bright red, ears and all, mumbling to himself.

But then Percival had said something and Merlin pushed him away—well, prodded his arm, no one really moves Percival without Percival letting them—and shook his head. Percival had shrugged but the rest of them had noticed the tension in Merlin’s shoulders.

Then Elyan complemented Merlin’s tracking abilities and Merlin hadn’t even acknowledged it, instead insisting that they keep moving before it got too dark to see and they’d be forced to make camp in the woods. They’d agreed, pressing on, but noting the way that Merlin refused to say so much as thank you.

Leon’s perceptiveness should be considered magical. Seriously, Arthur’s not entirely convinced the man can’t see into people’s heads, what with the information he’s able to produce out of nothing more than the twitch of a finger or the slightest huff of breath. But he sees the way Merlin shies away from any display of affection, even as he gently repeats it, watching Merlin turn his back and get back to work.

Arthur never saw what happened with Lancelot. All he knows is that one night, out in the woods, the two of them had gone off to collect firewood and Merlin had been hiding red-rimmed eyes when he returned, a few paces ahead of Lancelot, not ten minutes later. Arthur had glared but the forlorn confusion on Lancelot’s face had given him pause.

Then it was the touching.

One would expect Merlin to be a quite tactile person, and he is. He’s all shoulder nudges and pokes and prods and gentle shoves to get people to move where he wants them to go. And it’s not like the man has much concept of personal space.

No, some of that is not Arthur’s fault, how dare you?

But when someone else tries it, Merlin tenses reflexively, already moving before their hands make contact. He gives everyone he can a wide berth, scuttling around the outside of rooms until one of them breaks and tells him to come here, Merlin, it’s alright, we won’t hurt you. His face never quite believes them.

The strangest thing is how much of it Merlin makes small adjustments for.

He always wears those god-awful tunics, that he won’t let Arthur replace with fabric that doesn’t feel like it’s a burlap sack, with the sleeves pulled all the way down and those kerchiefs tied around his neck. Arthur’s seen his sleeves rolled up before, but only when Merlin’s working and he hasn’t realized Arthur’s there yet. It’s not like Arthur doesn’t know Merlin has forearms, but Merlin will always jump and guiltily roll his sleeves down.

He doesn’t notice why until he accidentally brushes Merlin’s bare skin once and Merlin all but tears away like he’s been burned.

He doesn’t know why.

Merlin has a secret. The secret is that he believes he’s a bad person. That means he can’t accept compliments and he can’t let them touch him.

This is a problem, because Arthur would very much like for Merlin to believe that he isn’t a bad person.

This is also a problem because Arthur has no idea how to do that.

He looks up when there’s a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

“Sire?” Leon steps through. “May we come in?”

Arthur nods, his eyebrows raising as all of his knights spill into the room.

“Shall I assume you’re on the warpath again?”

“Nah,” Gwaine grumbles, throwing himself into a chair, “know this isn’t your fault.”

Leon shakes his head. “It’s Merlin, sire, we’re…concerned.”

Arthur just sighs and tells them what’s been buzzing around his head for the past…however long it’s been. The knights nod.

“He doesn’t like to be touched when he doesn’t expect it,” Lancelot offers, “but when I ask…he doesn’t seem to want to agree either.”

“But he does,” Gwaine argues, “you’ve seen the way he stares at us when we hug each other, he looks like a poor child that’s never had a hug in his life!”

“Which isn’t true.” Elyan folds his arms. “Gwen’s hugged him.”

“We’ve all hugged him.”

“But he still thinks we’re going to hurt him.”

“Well,” Arthur mutters, “we can’t exactly blame him for being paranoid, can we?”

“If you lot are going to talk about me behind my back like it’s a war council, then yeah, I reserve the right to be paranoid.”

“Merlin!”

“Thank god, where’ve you been?”

“I thought we were meeting by the stables.”

“Did you get hurt?”

Merlin raises his hands and takes a step back. “Whoa, can I get through the door first before the interrogation starts?”

“This isn’t an interrogation,” Arthur says, glaring at the knights, “we’re concerned.”

“Uh-huh,” Merlin mutters, weaving through them to the table so he can set down the thing hooked over his arm, “yes, I’m all too familiar with your concern.”

Arthur frowns. “What does that mean?”

Merlin waves a hand. “Oh, just that it’s a prelude to more chores and things to do.”

Is that…true?

“Yes.”

Did he say that out loud?

“Also yes.”

Arthur shakes his head. “Merlin, we’re not coming up with lists and lists for chores for you to do.”

“Really? With how many you all constantly give me, here I finally thought I’d cracked the code as to why.”

Leon steps forward. “We’re not coming up with things to give you, Merlin, nor are we intending to gossip behind your back.”

“So what are you doing?”

“We’re worried,” Lancelot repeats, “about you.”

“Well, I’m right as rain, no need to worry.”

“Lie.”

Merlin’s eyes go wide and he stares at Leon. The knight smiles ruefully and takes another little step forward.

“Lie,” he repeats gently, “you don’t have to lie to us, Merlin.”

Merlin’s mouth thins. “Maybe I don’t want to tell you, then.”

“Why not—“

“No,” Arthur breaks in, causing Merlin to swing his head around again, “no, if Merlin doesn’t want to tell us he doesn’t have to.”

Gwaine looks on the verge of protest, but another look from Lancelot is enough to quell him. He sinks into the chair and tosses an apple to Merlin.

“At least eat something,” he says by way of explanation, “you’ve not eaten anything since lunch.”

Merlin looks very confused—good, now he’s just like the rest of them—but bites into the apple nonetheless. His gaze travels around the room before coming to rest on Leon.

“Why are you all concerned?”

“Because you won’t let us complement you, Merlin,” Leon says softly, “you believe that every time we touch you we intend to hurt you, and you believe that this is deserved because you are a bad person.”

The flabbergasted look on Merlin’s face is almost enough to make Arthur laugh. Almost.

“How…”

“We notice things, Merlin,” Leon says patiently, “we notice you.”

Lancelot snorts. “Good going, mate, you’ll freak him out.”

“Um—there’s nothing worth noticing about me—“

“Not we all know that’s not true,” Gwaine says, and if it had been any other time it would’ve sounded like the next pick-up line at the tavern, “you’re worth noticing, Merlin.”

Merlin’s gaze darts back and forth, finding no disagreement in any faces.

“What—what were you concerned about?”

“Aside from what we just told you?”

“But I don’t—why is that a problem?”

Arthur swallows a curse. “Are you asking why we’re upset that you believe you’re a bad person and you deserve to be treated badly?”

“…yes?”

“Because you’re not a bad person,” Elyan says, “and you don’t deserve to feel like everyone’s about to hurt you.”

Gods, the look of disbelief on Merlin’s face hurts.

“You don’t know that,” he says lowly, setting the apple down, “you don’t know that.”

“Sure we do.” Elyan uncrosses his arms. “We know you, Merlin.”

“I don’t think you do.”

A look passes around the group of knights. Elyan smiles.

“I know that Gwen came home and told me she’d made a friend the first week you arrived in Camelot. I know that you’ve reminded us what family means. I know that you care, Merlin, about your friends, because they’re important to you.”

Merlin blinks in confusion.

“I know you’re a strong man,” Percival says, “and not just because you can lift the packs for the horses without complaining. But you work hard, because you know you can, and so that people don’t have to. You provide what you can because you know what it’s like to have nothing.”

“I—I—“

“I know you’re brave,” Lancelot says softly, standing, “I know you feel the same fear that we all do and you stare it straight in the face.”

He pauses, takes one step closer.

“I know you don’t chase the glory of being brave, but the feeling of being brave and using it.”

“Guys, I—“

“I know what you’ve done.”

Merlin’s face goes pale at Leon’s words.

The knight tilts his head to the side and smiles.

“I’ve been around the longest,” he says in a near whisper, “and I have seen the changes from when you arrived in Camelot until now. I’ve seen the differences, not just in the other men in this room but in Camelot.”

He lays a hand on his chest.

“I know that you’ve made me prouder to serve this kingdom than many others that have tried.”

Poor Merlin is shaking right now, his fingers trembling on the edge of the table. He looks around in confusion, terribly frightened, sending more aches through Arthur’s chest.

“You wouldn’t say that—“ he gasps— “you wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth.”

“And what truth is that?”

“That—that I—“ Merlin’s breaths start to ring in the chamber— “I—I—“

“That you have magic?”

Merlin’s head jerks around to stare at Arthur. Arthur raises his hands and takes a step closer. Merlin flinches.

“It’s alright, Merlin,” Arthur says softly, “I’m not angry. I’m not going to hurt you. You have magic, though, right?”

“Yes—yes, I—but I’ve only ever used it for—for you Arthur, I—“

“Easy,” he soothes, fighting the urge to reach out and pull him close, “I know. It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Merlin all but whimpers, “it’s not okay, it’s bad, it’s bad and I’m bad, I’m bad—“

“You’re not.”

“I am!”

Merlin yanks his arms to his sides, curling them tightly around himself, much to the protest of the knights. His fingers whiten as he clutches the sides of his tunic.

“I’m bad, bad people get hurt, you don’t—you don’t touch bad people.”

“Merlin,” Arthur breaks in softly, “Merlin, sweetheart, I’m going to come over to you.”

He can hear the quickly stifled gasps and Gwaine’s ‘oh shit’ as he inches towards Merlin. The poor man doesn’t move, but the tremors get worse and worse the closer Arthur gets.

“I’m right here,” he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you, sweetheart, do you believe me? That I won’t hurt you?”

“I—I—“

“Because I won’t,” he promises, still fighting the urge to swoop the poor thing into a hug, “I’ll never hurt you, sweetheart.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not bad, Merlin, and you certainly don’t deserve to be hurt.”

“You don’t know that,” comes the strangled whisper, “you don’t know what I’ve done.”

“But I know you, Merlin,” Arthur murmurs, “and that’s enough.”

He can’t stop the concerned noise at Merlin’s huff of disbelief.

“It’s enough, sweetheart, it’s—hey! Easy, easy,” he soothes as Merlin’s knees buckle and he catches him before he can hit the ground, “I’ve got you, shh, shh, you’re alright.”

“Oh,” Lancelot murmurs as Merlin starts to shiver terribly, “oh, Merlin, you’re touch starved.”

“Touch starved?”

“He’s not been touched for a very long time,” Lancelot murmurs, hustling to join them on the floor, scooping Merlin’s legs into his lap, “and so he’s not used to it, but he needs it.”

“We all need touch?”

“Yes, otherwise our bodies get…unhappy.” Lancelot shakes his head. “I’m sure Gaius could explain it more. The short version is humans aren’t built to hold each other at arm’s length.”

Arthur tightens his grip on the lapful of shaking Merlin he has. There’s a cold nose buried in the crook of his neck, arms looping awkwardly around his shoulders. Distantly, he hears the scufflings of the other knights as they move closer.

“We’ve got you, sweetheart,” he fins himself whispering, “we’ve got you, we won’t hurt you, you’re safe, you’re good, we have you, it’s alright, now…”

Poor Merlin is still shuddering terribly.

“Shh, shh, easy, just try and relax, we have you…”

Since when has Merlin been this cold?

“Oh, I’m definitely hugging you every day,” Gwaine mutters, helping to prop Merlin up away from the table.

“Why—“ Merlin swallows— “why are you all so warm?”

“You’re cold,” Arthur says, “we’re helping.”

“I’m—I’m—what is it? Touch—touch—“

“Touch starved,” Lancelot offers gently, “yes, Merlin.”

“You’re helping?”

Gwaine shifts behind him. “We’re helping.”

“You’re not…mad?”

“No, Merlin, we’re not mad.”

“I’m not bad?”

Arthur tightens his grip. “Never, Merlin.”

“You—I can—I can stay?”

“Yes, Merlin,” comes the chorus of knights, “for as long as you like.”

Arthur is still upset, very confused, and more than a little overprotective right now.

But so is Merlin.

And they’re…they’re starting to figure it out.

One thing’s for sure: Arthur’s definitely pulling Merlin into bed to cuddle with him instead of getting up in the morning.

[gwynrielendgame]

Gwynriel headcanon

I just want a best friends to lovers arc for these precious babies

"Good try slow poke." Azriel mutters after disarming Gwyn for what felt like the 100th time tonight.

"Dammit." Gwyn reached down to grab her fallen dagger once more. Azriel had been kicking her ass all night, but she could hardly be mad when her dagger skills were already improving.

"Let's go again." Gwyn moved into her defensive stance while Azriel rolled his eyes.

"Come on let's take a break." Even he was beginning to feel tired, so he could only imagine how she felt. He held his dagger loosely in his hand as he stood across from her in the training ring.

"You wanna take a break?" Gwyn's eyebrows shot up. "Wanna talk about why you look so sad? Honestly it's starting to make me sad just looking at you."

Azriel narrowed his his eyes while sizing up the tall redhead. She was more perceptive than he originally gave her credit for.

"You looked sad before I even got here. Do you want to talk about it?" He said in a pointed voice. As if he had beat her. She only laughed.

"You already know why I'm sad. I believe you got to witness the end of it." Her tone was teasing, but the subject matter made Azriel tense up. She wasn't one to discuss their very first meeting. He had been glad about that too. He had never been able to forget what he witnessed that night. Her joke was just a reminder of what she had suffered. Maybe that was the reason Azriel confided in her when he refused to confide in anyone else. To even the playing field between them. So that she knew some of his secrets when he seemed to know all of hers.

"Mor."

"What?" She tilted her head obviously caught off guard by what he said. She plopped down at the edge of the training ring and took a large gulp of water. He decided to follow her lead and sit next to her.

"I'm sad because of Mor. And you could probably group Elain into why I'm sad too." He didn't want to say anymore but could feel inevitable questions coming. A wry smile tugged at Gwyn's lips.

"You certainly have a type." That statement had Azriel grinning. He shook his head a little while chuckling.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Mor and Elain look nothing alike." Azriel stood by this statement. While they were both beautiful, they didn't look similar. Mor was tall and curvy while Elain was relatively thin. Not to mention their personalities were polar opposites.

"Ridiculously beautiful yet emotionally unavailable is your type, Az." It was the first time she had called him by his nickname and it had his lips tugging in a smile. His shadows reached out towards Gwyn, but he quickly reeled them back in. Azriel took a second to process what she said though. Was that his type? Evidence would prove so.

"I don't seek out emotionally unavailable women." He defended himself. Perhaps he sought out ridiculously beautiful women and they just happened to always be emotionally unavailable.

"Are you saying Mor was not engaged to be married when you met her? Or that Elain doesn't have a mate that you know about?" The teasing tone Gwyn used softened the blow from the truth. Perhaps he did look for women he knew would never go for him. "Despite that, I think Elain would ignore her mate for you, so why do you continue to fawn after her while simultaneously doing nothing?" Gwyn nudged his shoulder as she said this. She was flipping her dagger through her hands, going through different handling maneuvers.

"You sure have a lot of opinions on my love life for someone who has never been in a relationship." He says in the same teasing tone. It was no surprise to anyone that she wasn't ready for a relationship. That didn't mean he couldn't give her shit for it.

"I know why I want to be single. Have you figured out why you remain single despite the fact that you could have Elain if you truly wanted her?" He rolls his eyes at her. She was the biggest busybody out of all of them. His shadows had never been so calm before though. They were dancing excitedly around him, yet they eased up on the pressuring feeling they normally gave him.

"Shut up." He didn't put much emphasis behind it. He continued to watch the dagger that flowed through her hands.

"You think you don't deserve them." It wasn't a question. They both knew it to be true. Perhaps Gwyn felt the same way which is why she never entered into any relationships. They were more alike than they gave themselves credit. Azriel just shrugged to her response. What could he say to that?

"Okay I'm going to compliment you, but only because your eyes look so sad that I'm worried you might start crying any second." He burst out with laughter after she said that. She was too much. "If I could give you the world on a platter, I would do it in a heartbeat. You are one of the greatest men I have had the pleasure of meeting. You saved me and I can never repay you for that. But I want you to be happy. And if Mor or Elain would make you happy, then I think it's worth the rejection to talk to them about it. And you do deserve them just by the way." She sent him a small, genuine smile that had his chest clenching in a way he didn't understand. It also had his shadows reaching out for her again, but he slammed them back into place.

"Mor was tortured and Elain...well Elain is Elain. They deserve someone that is sweet, and loving, and I can't be that for them. I'm the high lord's spy master for fucks sake."

"If you don't like the job, then quit. Rhys will understand." It was a reasonable solution to the problem Az presented. But not one he was willing to take.

"That's the problem. I do like the job." He was waiting for the look of surprise or disgust from Gwyn. Neither came. Her face was neutral, contemplative as if she was waiting for him to say more. He wouldn't though. He had already told her more than anyone else. He felt relief when Gwyn responded in another teasing tone.

"Well that's not hard to figure out why, now is it?" His eyebrows lifted up high. He paused to hear her conspiracy. She let out a huge sigh before continuing. "It's your way of re-enacting what happened to you as a kid right? Except this time you're in control. I doubt you get excited when you hear screams of pain or you would have finished what the Hybern soldiers started in Sangravah. You're feeling relief that it isn't you anymore." She shrugged as if what she said was obvious. Azriel frowned. He had never thought too hard on it. Never wanted to think too hard on it. Afraid of what he would find if he looked too hard. He turned completely so that he could study Gwyn's face. It was set in that neutral look once more as if to prove to him she wasn't judging.

"What if I told you, you were wrong. That I do enjoy the pain I inflict on our prisoners?" He was curious how far her empathy would extend. She gave him a curious look back. She paused as if hesitant to say what she wants. He guessed that they both were spilling more secrets than they were typically comfortable with.

"I'd call bullshit." She paused once again. Finally looking nervous. "Sometimes I want to go to a random pub and find a random man and let him take me home. For obvious reasons I will not be doing that. But I want to for the control. To know that the next person who has me in such a way was because I decided for that to be the case and no other reason. You want control because you never had that before. Same as me. " Azriel gave her a soft look. They were scarily similar. Gwyn put her hand on top of his and squeezed. He didn't know what else to say so he squeezed back. He finally let his shadows curl out and wrap around her wrist too. To help provide the comfort that his words wouldn't be able to. Gwyn sent him one final smile before standing.

"Breaks over. Now show me how I can disarm you." Azriel started laughing. She never gives up.

[ohplagg]

The Yato-gami I know

Also read at AO3

Summary: 

“My name is Sakura,” she decides to try a much simpler approach “what’s yours?”

The man with his right hand still holding half of his face and with a skeptical look writes on the dirt.

夜卜

Ya…to?

AU where Tenjin never fired Tamanone.

NOTE: Adachitoka never bothered to come up with Tamanone's Tenjin given name so I'm following their example by also avoiding the issue and using Sakura instead

I want to once again give a big 'thank you' to @noragamibigbang for organizing this.

And an even bigger 'thank you' to my lovely partner (@mochakat) who came up with the idea and who also created a beautiful artwork that goes along with this!

It was a day like every other day; nothing new, nothing exiting, nothing special. Just everything really quiet and peaceful and boring.

Sakura, a beautiful young lady with long dark hair dressed in a miko, was starting to despise every second of it. Well not every second of it. Sakura couldn’t really complain much about her days being too peaceful, it definitely was an improvement from those days where her master had his rage moments and fired anyone who even dared to just breathe the wrong way in his presents.

She was lucky that Tsuyu was there that day to talk to master Tenjin out of the idea of firing her, she will forever owe her live to Tsuyu. Who knows what would have happened if she had been fired that day who knows how long ago? ...Was it a 1000 years ago? It’s been so long that Sakura had lost the track of time.

But peaceful days doesn’t mean they should also be boring and lately life had become extremely mundane. Ever since she was forbidden from working in the prayer altar she’s been sweeping fallen leaves from stone stairs that lead up to the tori, far enough that she can’t eavesdrop on the human prayers any more. According to Tenjin-sama “it’s his job to listen to the prayers, not hers” but Sakura knows there’s more to the reason even if he doesn’t say it.

“-hope Tenjin-sama grants that old lady’s prayer.” Sakura’s attention is caught by the gossiping some shrine maidens are having about some human prayer. Oh, how she misses listening to human prayers; learning about the near shore problems and how humans found solutions to their problems, the emotions they felt for one another, the human nature can be beautiful sometimes.

Sakura stops her sweeping as she listens carefully to the gossiping whispers “Yeah. Ever since that Yaboku god murdered that old lady’s son and his wife she comes here daily asking Tenjin-sama to bless her granddaughter academically since scholarships are the only way that child will have a way to pay her studies.”

How unfortunate, Sakura thinks to herself as she resumes her chore of sweeping leaves. If only that Yaboku god would cease to exist, the world would become a much happier place.

-

After an excruciating long and boring day Sakura is taking the last basket of fallen leaves to the trees and bushes at the back of the shrine for disposal. As she dumps it all in the pile of leaves she notice what looks like a head of dark hair among all the orange, gold and yellow autumn leaves.

A bear. Her heart drops and she’s suddenly hit with her fight and flight response. She knows in theory she shouldn’t be scared by things like this but survival instincts wait for no one when a bear is right there.

Without even a second thought she throws the hardest punch she can manage to where she’s guessing the nose would be.

“Ahrg!” someone replies to Sakura’s punch. Maybe she should have given it a second thought.

Sakura frantically apologizes as she tries to check the nose of the poor victim she just attacked. As she does so she notice that the person in front of her was a young looking man dressed in a yukata.

“Here, let me see.” She insists as she pushes the poor individual’s forehead back and tries to move his hands out of the way, but the man rejects her aid between whimpers and grunts as he tilts his head forward and hold the right side of his face with one hand

An awkward silence falls among the two as the young man attends to his bleeding nose, spitting blood from what seems to be a busted lip and probably a lost tooth all the while Sakura just stands there.

“That was a really hard hit, uh? I’m so sorry. I never do things like this, I don’t know what came over me. I really thought you were a bear, which is ridiculous because why would you be a bear? Bears are too busy right now seeking their shelter for winter, they wouldn’t be under a pile of leaves in the back of a shrine, of course not! But why were you under a pile of leaves in the back of the shrine? Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it’s just that it’s unusual- surprising! I meant surprising. Unusual sounds like it’s something bad- which is not! Totally not.” Sakura rants on in her best effort to strike a friendly conversation with the stranger. She sighs and stops her words as she notice that the young man isn’t appreciative of her effort.

“My name is Sakura,” she decides to try a much simpler approach “what’s yours?”

The man with his right hand still holding half of his face and with a skeptical look writes on the dirt.

夜卜

Ya…to?

-

Ever since the ‘I can’t believe it’s not a bear!’ incident Sakura had encountered Yato in several other occasions. Once he was hiding at the top of a tree, other times she found him sleeping in the garden shed and each and every time she tried her luck to befriend him.

He had made it clear several times to leave him alone, that he didn’t want anything to do with her or anyone for that matter, but she was bored out of her mind most of the time and he kept coming back so might as well enjoy the company right?

As the weeks passed by, Sakura found out that Yato was a shy curious individual that just hid behind a mean attitude. The first time she noticed this was when she was talking about her first days as Tenjin-sama’s shinki. As she was talking about it she could tell that she had Yato’s full attention even though he acted as he didn’t care.

Because of this she started to talk about anything and everything in an effort to bait him into participating in the conversation. Some topics were a dead ends but there were a few that she could tell had Yato curious to know more.

-

“But why flowers? Can’t they just say things straight as it is?” This wasn’t the first time that Yato had asked something that to many could be considered obvious.

“Sometimes words and actions aren’t enough to express one’s emotions and feelings. Flowers have different meanings that can help us express what we wouldn’t be able to with just words or actions.” Sakura explained.

“For example,” Sakura continued with her explination, “the emotion of love. You can tell someone you love them but there’s a big difference between the love you feel for a friend, the love you feel for a family member and the love you feel for your lover. Flowers help communicate what type of love you want to say.”

By now Yato had warmed up enough to the point that he was constantly asking questions about anything that she was talking about in the moment.

He asked her about human prayers, about dreams and wishes, about human festivals and ceremonies, about sports and game. He asked about the different types of human relationships, about human entertainment. If humans were involved, you could bet Yato would make a question. He kind of reminded her of a little kid that was just discovering the world for the first time.

“

“Okay, but what about-“ the conversation in the garden shed was interrupted by the sound of a firetruck siren.

“That’s the 3rd one this week.” Sakura sighs. “My master says that some gods have been causing suffering to humans to amuse themselves since the amount of dedicated believers have dropped and with it the amount of things for them to do, that’s why there has been an increase in tragedies in the last couple of years.” She explained.

“That’s awful.” Yato pointed out.

“I know! How heartless can one be to call the killing of humans a game? Those gods are horrible monsters. The world would be better without them.” Sakura expressed her frustration.

“Sorry,” Sakura apologized after a sour and tense pause, “I just-”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to explain” Yato suddenly interrupts as his voice crack in the process. “I feel the same way.”

-

“Anything interesting happened today, Mizuchi?” a young looking man with almond colored hair dressed in a dark Yukata asked as he cooked some miso soup.

“Nothing much, Father.” A little girl with short dark hair dressed in a white kimono sat by the table, waiting for said miso soup. “Bishamonten-sama has lost 2 more shinki to god’s greatest secret, Takemikazuchi-sama is still trying to get a blessed hafuri, and Ebisu-sama might reincarnate soon again.”

“What about our Yaboku dear?” the man asked over his shoulder.

“He’s been going to Tenjin-sama’s shrine quiet a lot lately. I think I’ve seen him talking to a shrine maiden a few times. She goes by the name of Sakura.”

“Is he now?” Father halts everything that he’s doing for a brief second.

Father has been aware for the longest time that his son spends his time in different shrines whenever he has free time. Even though Yaboku thinks his father doesn’t know, he knows but simply decides to turn a blind eye to it as long as his Yaboku stays obedient to him.

But it is quiet surprising that Yaboku has spent most of his time in Tenjin’s shrine, even more so now that its winter time. He usually spends winter time at Binbougami’s shrine.

“Mizuchi dear, could you tell Yaboku to come visit me next time you see him? I have something I need him to take care of.”

-

Yato visits Sakura. Sakura is busy setting up some extra lanterns and some other decorations in the stone stairway. Sakura explains that New Year’s is coming and along with it a lot of humans visit the shrine as well.

“Where are you going to be during all of this?” Yato asked sternly, something felt out of place for the child-like curious Yato that Sakura knew.

“Probably near Tenjin-sama, why?” Sakura wondered

“No reason.” Yato’s response was sharp in the tongue. “I have some business I have to attend to in Kyoto so I won’t be seeing you until after New Year’s, okay?” He asked but it felt like it didn’t matter what Sakura answered in returned.

Both Sakura and Yato briefly said their farewells and just like that Yato left. Sakura made a mental note to ask Yato once he returns and seems less on edge to ask him what happened that made him act so out of character.

-

It finally was New Year’s Eve. Everyone’s visiting the shrine. Families with their children and elderly. Some couples; young love, old love, friend groups, you name it. Sakura was loving every second. She loved being close by humans, there’s something about their joy that just feels amazing.

Sakura had been sent to the entrance on her master’s orders. And just when people were starting to pray. But she can’t complain much, at least now she is surrounded by humans and enjoying the happy chattering they have amongst themselves instead of being stuck next to her master hearing the same jokes he makes every year.

As she walked there was a sudden screams interrupts any and all gleeful chat. Everyone starts walking towards where the scream came from. On the road, just before entering the shrine perimeters. A man had fainted and looked like he had a seizure and judging by the reaction of his wife, it looked like she had just seen a ghost.

People gathered around the married couple trying to wonder what just had taken place, all the while some other called the emergency line.

As all of this was unfolding Sakura knew she had to rush to her master and tell him the incident that had just taken place, but as she was turning back she caught a glimpse of a familiar black hair head and a dark yukata.

Yato?

That didn’t make sense, he said he wouldn’t be in the city by this time around. Her curiosity got the best of her and she started following the man that had an extreme resemblance to the Yato-gami she knew.

“Stop!” Sakura yells as she’s lead to the back side of the shrine, where she met Yato the first time. She notice that she’s out of ear’s range of anyone so she decides to finally test out her theory.

“Yato, wait!” the male figure pauses. Frozen in place but with his back still facing her. “It’s you, isn’t it?” Sakura didn’t need an answer. The hesitation in that man’s actions told her enough.

Yato slowly turned around, looking like a kid full of guilt. Sakura noticed he was holding a katana-like weapon but this one looked odd, like it was made of water.

“I don’t understand. Why are you here? You said you wouldn’t be here!” She questioned him to no avail. Yato remained quiet, eyes glued to the floor unable to face her. “Why… why are you acting this way? And why do you have a weapon? Did you have something to do with that man?”

Sakura was furious and frustrated and upset. It didn’t help that Yato still wasn’t looking at her but rather was very focused on the dead and muddy grass under his sandals.

Sakura noticed Yato say something under his breath and as soon as he does his katana-like weapon transforms into a beautiful young girl with short dark hair.

‘He has a shinki’ Sakura realizes.

“Hello! So you are the famous Sakura!” the little girl gleefully greets Sakura, “I’m Hiiro! I’m sure Yaboku has told you all about me.”

“Ya…boku?” Sakura whispers in disbelief towards Yato as he looks like a deer in headlights, still unable to look at her. To say Sakura was confused was an understatement. With just one sentence she had more questions than what she could actually think of. “Yato. Who is this?” unable to put her thoughts into words, Sakura decided to focus on the first thing that confused her.

Yato tries to find his voice, tries to answer Sakura but the knot in his throat is too big that any time he opens his mouth to say something, anything, nothing comes out.

“Come on Yaboku, you didn’t tell her who I was? Some brother you are.” The girl that answers instead. “I’m Hiiro. I’m Yaboku’s shinki and sister!”

“Why does she keep calling you Yaboku?” Sakura carefully questions Yato, as if she’s walking on eggshells that could turn into glass shards any second. Sakura noticed that Yato looked beyond scared.

“He didn’t tell you? His name is Yaboku.” Hiiro once again answers in Yato’s stead. She turns to look at Yato, “don’t tell me you didn’t tell her.” Yato looks like he wants to run away even though he is frozen in place.

“You’re the yaboku?” Sakura seeks confirmation from the man himself even though she doesn’t need to hear anything else. “All this time I thought that- that you- and I thought that we-“ a rush of fury clouds Sakura’s thoughts leaving her speechless.

“I- I can explain!” Yato stumbles with his words, desperately trying to gain his voice back.

“So you used me to choose your victims? Did I lead you to your victims?” Sakura questions in disbelief.

“No!” Yato frantically tries to get a word in “Let me explain, I-“

“And you even lied to me about who you were! You deceived me!” by this time Sakura was yelling at the top of her lunges

“Yes- I mean no! Sakura you got to listen to me-“

“Don’t. Keep my name out of your filthy mouth. I can’t believe I ever considered you a friend.” Sakura emotionlessly says as she wraps her arms around herself and leaves.

Yato reaches a hand out towards the leaving figure of Sakura trying to call out to her but gives up shortly after seeing as there is nothing he could say to make her stay.

-

“Yaboku. You’ve been like this for months now. Its time you snap out of it.” Hiiro pushes Yato’s shoulder as he’s laying on his side looking out to the garden.

Hiiro would be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised at Yaboku’s unusual behavior. They had gone out several times now on Father’s command but whenever they did Yaboku looked so miserable that she actually felt bad for him.

“How about we go to play? That always cheered you up!” Still no answer from his brother. “Sigh. What can I do to cheer you up? Would me calling you Yato like that Sakura girl did do any good?”

Hiiro noticed that as soon as she suggested the idea Yaboku’s face had a hit of emotion for the first time since that night.

“I’ll call you that if you want me to but you have to tell me, otherwise I won’t know. Hiiro tried once again to get Yaboku to say something.

It was close, she could feel it. Yaboku looked like he really wanted to say something but just like it had happened so many times now he got caught up in so much hesitation that he gave up in whatever idea he was about to share.

But this time she almost had it and she wouldn’t let it slip away. “Look, it’s obvious you miss this Sakura girl and I could tell that she genuinely cared about you so she probably misses you too so why don’t you go talk to her?”

Hiiro was right, all that time spent with Sakura was something both of them enjoyed and if he was missing her this much it was very possible that she was missing him back. But did he had any right to go back to her? After he lied to her so much? Yato didn’t deserved her forgiveness, didn’t deserve her time or her kindness.

But she deserves an explanation and an apology. Yato thought to himself.

And with that he got up and left.

-

It was a day near the end of spring. Sakura couldn’t really tell what day it was, every day had felt the same since that night. The only thing that made the day different from other days is that now she was sweeping the Sakura blossoms instead of shoveling snow.

At first Sakura was furious. She felt angry and betrayed. After a few weeks she felt just upset and used. After that she simply felt sad and lonely. With all the time Sakura had to think she understood that she was in no position to judge a god and she also understood that it was unfair of her to cut all communication with Yaboku-gami as if they had never known each other ever. She wished she could talk to him.

As Sakura is taking the last basket of fallen sakura blossoms to the trees and bushes at the back of the shrine for disposal she sees Yato standing by the same place she first met him. That time she confused him for a bear.

“What are you doing here?” Sakura kept her voice firm and emotionless even though she felt otherwise.

“I just came here to apologize for everything I’ve put you through” Yato starts as he hands Sakura some purple hyacinths.

Sakura takes them with a shocked and hesitant but pleased expression.

“I asked the flower shop lady and she said that purple hyacinths mean deep sorrow and regret. That if I wanted to make it clear how sorry I was these were the ones to give.” Yato explains and then continues, “I’m sorry for lying to you. For not being honest about everything. For being a coward. But most importantly for being Yaboku.”

It’s not every day that someone apologizes for their existence so Sakura waited for Yato to explain further before she said anything in return.

“I know I’m the worst of the worst. I kill innocents and I don’t show regret. I destroy and taint all the beautiful things in the world for my own selfish reasons. But I promise you that the me you knew, the Yato you knew, wasn’t an act.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, Yaboku. But please forgive Yato, he is a little stupid and naïve and new to all this being a good god thing but I promise that he means well and he’s trying his best.”

Sakura takes a moment to consider his words. “So what Im understanding is that you want to be the Yato-gami I know?”

Yato only nods.

“Then I suppose I’ll accept Yato’s apology” Sakura pauses as Yato’s face lights up, “but only if he promise me that he’ll give it his all to become the Yato I know he can be.”

“With your guidance I think I can do that”

[entamewitchlulu]

*cups hands again* Can you elaborate a little on the metaphors present in Utena? I'm very curious about them!!

Man ok anon this has been sitting in my inbox for a while and I must have gone to sleep before seeing it that one night and then i never sat down and answered.

tw here i'm gonna talk about akio's grooming and canon-relevant sexual abuse

There's like, a fuckton of metaphors in Utena. We could talk about roses, or the bird cage design of Anthy's garden, we could talk about rings and fairy tales and the framing of the story as a stage play with a Greek Chorus in the form of the Shadow Girls and everything. We could talk about stars and constellations and the references to Greek mythology in the subtle framing of Akio and Anthy = Zeus and Hera, we could talk about a bajillion things but you know what right ni wanna talk about cars.

yes, that's right cars.

There are so many cars in Utena. They don't start showing up proper until Akio appears, because his character is inextricably tied to them. But what do cars really mean in Utena? they're certainly not just regular vehicles to get you from point a to point b. Hell, they show up as a major set piece in the third arc's dueling fields. So if they're not supposed to be cars, what are they?

I think that answer is manyfold. One, perhaps very obvious answer, is that the car represents sexual drive and desire. It is, of course, Akio's tool of choice in manipulating the young people in the school to do his bidding. In one of the first scenes with the car, Akio is driving Touga someplace and teasingly asks him if he'd like to take the wheel. Given that it's pretty heavily implied that Akio and Touga are sleeping together, this is very much a reference to sex. The car is Akio's means of "driving" people to the ends he desires, which is in essence him using sex appeal to manipulate. His main grooming tactic is to take Utena on drives -- in the car, there's no one but the two of them, and it's not like anyone is going to be able to see or notice if anything is wrong and step in. It's isolating, and you can't exactly leave the situation when you're going 75 down the freeway.

You could also think of the car as not just a sexual representation but as a means of removing agency from other characters (which of course ties into Akio's serial sexual abuse of others). In a car, if you are the passenger you have no say on where you are going. You have to be able to trust the person driving to take you where you want to go, and if they don't, or if they drive recklessly, you're shit out of luck. You're not going to really be able to wrest control of the vehicle away from the driver without getting yourself into trouble. Akio taking his victims on those car rides is a means of removing their agency. They fall into his plans because he's taking them on the routes he decides, and they have little choice but to fall in. He is the driver, and they are the passengers. He is the puppet master and they are the puppets. You'll notice that the first time Akio takes advantage of Utena, it's by pushing her down inside the back seat of his car. Once again, the driver and the driven. It feeds into his desired persona as a manipulator.

The car could also be just, in general, "adulthood." In Akio's hands it's, of course, a dangerous tool, but getting in that car gives all of our young cast this glimpse of a world that they aren't usually privy too (as mentioned before, when Akio asks Touga if he'd like to take the wheel, Touga responds that he's underage). Since Utena as a whole is something of a surreal coming of age story, of learning more about yourself and growing up past the things in your childhood that holds you back, this makes sense. These young people get this glimpse of "adulthood", represented by something they aren't able to have in the form of driving a car. Driving a car is generally considered something of a milestone (though if I'm correct this is more of a Western milestone than a Japanese one, as I believe having a driver's license is less common seeing as public transport is better and streets are narrower in urban areas, so this point is probably my weakest so far). As a representation of sex, it's also an "adult" milestone in that regard, and both of these give the cast a glimpse of something "beyond" the dream like high school they live in into the future, and forces them to try and come up with solutions for the problems they're facing now in order to reach that.

But so far I've only talked about cars as being Akio's tool, mainly. And sex, adulthood, etc, none of these are inherently bad things. Even being a driver and a passenger isn't inherently a bad thing if you can trust the person who's driving. They're only dangerous in the wrong hands. Because cars aren't just tools of terrible things in Utena, and if we look at the movie, we can see that cars are also a metaphor for freedom and agency, as we watch Utena herself become a car. This has definitely been talked about by much more coherent people than me, but in essence, Utena transforming into the car that Anthy can use to drive to safety, free of the world she's trapped in, is a metaphor for Utena becoming the vehicle for Anthy to escape her abuse. Utena doesn't save her -- Anthy saves herself. Anthy drives the car to her escape, Utena just left her the tools to get there. Cars aren't just a symbol of terrible things -- they are ways of reclaiming freedom, agency, sexual power, and trust in others.

I think probably more than almost any other metaphor in the show, the image of cars is the one that shows just how much everything has two sides. Anything can be terrible if you use it the wrong way, but those same things can often be good used in the right way. It all has to do with the way you choose to wield the power you've been given.