#often. but. unfortunately it seems to be a Select Few

[toytulini]

i do wish others would mask full time generally, but i do give points for at least wearing them when experienceling symptoms of illness even if you dont full time

[lovegardens]

Just a drabble? idk, i’m kinda bored. (this was originally gonna have chapters but i lost creativity)

Shadow Milk is a performer; hence, it’s his talent— his purpose— to make his audience laugh. Whether it be from pure fear from the many cookies who recognized him for who he truly was (and unfortunately ran into his performance unwillingly), or from sheer amusement in the select few who simply believed he was an average jester, the crowd was always amused.

At the end of each show, he’d give his usual bow and tip of the hat as ‘gratitude’ for the (mostly forced) applause. And each time, he’d stare out at the crowd, scanning each smiling face. Albeit some of them wavering, everyone still smiled. Until there was one face that didn’t.

Finding this ever so slightly appalling, Shadow Milk couldn’t help but lock eyes with that one blank face; your face. But even despite his own heterochromatic eyes peering almost threateningly into yours, you didn’t seem to crack even a grin. Yet for some reason, you still clapped. But there was no proof if you enjoyed the show, not if you weren’t even smiling at him.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued in you at that moment, his own grin faintly tightening in moderate irritation.

Every show in Beast-Yeast since then, you were there. Always with that mockingly blank face, as if you were only showing up to rub it in that there was always one person in his audience that wouldn’t even chuckle.

For some reason though, you’d still always be the first to show up at his performance, getting an early arrival, and always the very last to leave, making sure you didn’t miss a thing.

It was as if you were taunting him; a beast! And he could hardly take it anymore. The least he could do was learn more about you.

“My dearest little fan,” a voice mused from behind you, just as you were ready to turn around and make your leave considering the performance had just ended.

“My favorite jester,” you called back, a ghost of a smile wanting to grace your lips as you watched him, although you still kept blank. Shadow Milk, on the other hand, was too busy easily hiding how taken aback he was at those three singular words.

“Favorite? Do my ears deceive me?” He leaned in towards you, one hand going to his ear in a dramatic manner. “For one who never laughs at my jokes, I must say ‘favorite’ is an interesting word to hear.”

“I may not laugh, but I do enjoy,” you answered honestly, eyes not once leaving his own as he inspected your face, almost as though searching for a lie of some sort.

A few moments of silence passed before he had smiled widely, taking a few steps closer to you, shortening the close distance even more. “You enjoy my performances,” his voice held a hint of teasing as his head tilted to the side exaggeratively as if he was testing you.

“More than you know,” you confessed, almost eagerly. For an instance, there seemed to be something more notable on your typically expressionless face— your lips, so often pressed together, had curled just a bit. They were up-curved so faintly that if Shadow Milk Cookie had not spent all those times staring at you amongst the crowd, he wouldn’t have noticed it.

It was once again silent between you both, but not at all uncomfortable. His eyes remained on your lips, finding himself practically fixated on the rare sight.

Your face was already a beautiful one, even he had to truthfully admit that, but the smallest smile you had just revealed to him was enough to make it even better. “Until your next show, my favorite jester,” you quipped, your smile dissipating just as quickly as it had come as you watched him continue to gaze down at your ‘expressive’ lips.

(He’d assumed you weren’t entirely comfortable with his lingering eyes and persistent stare. But how could he help himself? His most intriguing audience member had just presented such a nice sight, how was he supposed to not stare?)

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere platonic rivalry hcs between Naruto and Sasuke for their female team mate ^_^ please love to hear your thoughts 

Ah... So you're technically in Sakura's role for this. Sure!

Yandere! Platonic! Naruto vs Yandere! Platonic! Sasuke

Pairing: Platonic - Rivalry -> Sharing (In Ending 3)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Jealousy, Blood, Violence, Kidnapping, Isolation, Stalking, Murder, Forced companionship(s).

These two have always been rather similar to each other.

Unfortunately they can never seem to agree on something.

They've been rivals since they were put on Team 7.

When it comes to how you fit in the story... I can think of two ideas.

You're either in Team 7 alongside Sakura...

Or you take her role in this concept.

Either way... Their rivalry would start childish.

You knew the two when you were all young and on Team 7.

Naruto has always been loud and a lot to handle... while Sasuke has been quieter yet more brooding.

The two both have had lonely childhoods and do need companionship.

Naruto admits he wants people to like him.

Sasuke doesn't, more focused on being an avenger than anything...

Yet he finds himself enjoying your companionship.

Naruto has always been competitive.

He acts in such a way to try and impress you, to show you how capable he is.

Sasuke isn't interested in these challenges at first.

Sasuke just cares about getting stronger, not fighting Naruto to impress some girl.

That is until after a training session you complimented him... while he tried to ignore how it made him feel...

He found it pleasing to hear from you... and hated it when you gave that same praise to Naruto.

Their rivalry is originally based on power.

They both want to get stronger to achieve their goals.

Yet it progresses into getting the attention of their dear friend and teammate.

They aren't romantically interested... Sakura ends up dealing with more of that.

It's more like they both like impressing you and want you to pick a favorite.

It's petty and childish before the second half of the show.

Just two kids trying to impress a friend they've both grown fond of.

Naruto is the one who's more obvious with it.

He pushes himself to show you techniques he learned and practically goes feral if you're injured in a mission.

Sasuke is more laid back.

He likes your attention and hates Naruto trying to take it, but he doesn't go out of his way to impress you.

He has other things to worry about than impressing girls.

Despite that he still keeps an eye on you and protects you, often scolding Naruto if he didn't protect you.

Again, all childish competition between two rivals who happen to enjoy the same person.

It's when Sasuke leaves Konoha and becomes pretty much a threat to everyone that the rivalry shifts.

It's no longer about impressing you.

The two are much older now with very different ideals.

Naruto is still mostly the same as he was... but Sasuke is a threat.

You rarely see Sasuke, mostly being around Naruto to help him with his own goals.

Naruto is obsessed with getting Sasuke back... yet at the same time feels a bit proud that you stayed with him as his friend.

However... Sasuke never gave up on you.

Sasuke is indeed obsessed with power and gave up camaraderie for it.

Yet there's times Sasuke manages to find you during his missions, looking all happy that you stayed with Naruto...

That you stayed with Konoha...

Sasuke feels envious and part of him doesn't like the idea of Naruto winning.

There's many times you and Sasuke meet.

It's not that surprising to assume he's following you.

Even in his search for power and vengeance... Sasuke only cares for a select few people.

You're on the top of his list.

Whenever he corners you on missions, it's never just to check in.

Sasuke keeps testing your strength... but at the same time he just wants to see you.

Naruto eventually breaks up the fighting to try and convince Sasuke to come back home.

Yet Sasuke lashes out, claiming Naruto is a fool to continue that goal...

Sasuke is also pissed he can never convince you to come with him.

Sasuke hates to admit it, but he misses the times he had with you in Team 7.

While he doesn't miss Sakura fawning over him... He misses how you'd help him train and support him without trying to get anything out of it.

Then he's reminded of the fact you did the same thing with Naruto...

He hates that.

It isn't long until this rivalry becomes a game of tug-o-war.

Sasuke eventually realizes to keep you to himself... to get you on his side... he'll need to kidnap you.

Naruto no doubt catches onto this quickly and rarely leaves your side, determined to not lose you too.

This rivalry can be deadly considering how the show goes on.

Both of these characters are powerhouses.

Sasuke is definitely going to aim to kill Naruto, even if he struggles to bring himself to do it.

Sasuke needs you to come with him... He needs you by his side.

You're his friend, aren't you?

Sure, Sasuke's pushed you away...

But he'll show you he's stronger than Naruto.

Naruto, on the other hand, is growing progressively more worried about his friends.

He knows Sasuke is upset that you didn't want to leave Konoha.

Naruto tries to keep you away, knowing Sasuke could easily hurt you if you fight him.

Naruto doesn't want to hurt Sasuke too much...

Yet Naruto also cares about you.

He cares about you more than anything at times.

If it ever comes to it and he can't get Sasuke to join him...

He might have to kill him....

Sasuke comes to try and take you with him, claiming Konoha isn't good enough for you.

Sasuke is willing to pry you from Naruto's arms, even if it means killing him.

Neither party wants to kill the other, but...

A decision needs to be made.

Naruto refuses to have Sasuke kidnap you.

He's tried... multiple times.

Naruto doubts Sasuke cares for your safety.

He just cares for nostalgia... or even just wants to own you.

There was always going to be a final confrontation between the two.

It's just in this case... you're also their goal.

It's very likely one of them will die, leaving the world in its own form of chaos.

If Naruto dies, Sasuke gets to steal you away, probably then demolishing the village or taking over.

If Sasuke dies, you'll be safe but Naruto would have failed his other friend...

The best outcome would be the one similar to canon, where they don't kill one another and probably even learn to share the friend they adore so much.

There aren't many good outcomes in this rivalry.

If one of them wins you'll probably be isolated... even if they shared, would you have freedom?

Naruto already barely leaves your side... and Sasuke has been adamant on bending you to his will to stay by him.

You try to calculate the best outcome...

Yet as their final confrontation goes on... and you witness their fight grow more bloody as time passes...

You can't tell what outcome would be the best for you.

These aren't really your friends anymore, are they?

They're selfish beings now, willing to do anything to get what they want.

You can only hope that by the end of the bloodshed... you'll have both of your friends in the end...

Yet as it goes on it gets harder and hard to tell.

Ending 1 - Naruto

This is one of the outcomes of this rivalry.

You and Naruto have been companions since Sasuke left Konoha.

Naruto didn't want to harm Sasuke too badly.

Let alone kill him.

Yet Sasuke made his choice clear.

He was going to find a way to get rid of Naruto then take you.

Naruto, unable to cope with the thought of you being hurt... snaps.

Naruto, due to the beast inside him, tends to give into his rage.

When he sees Sasuke run over to you and grab you...

He finds himself seeing red.

Suddenly, it doesn't matter what happens...

All that matters is you're safe.

Naruto wakes up with blood covering his clothes and you cradled in his arms.

According to others he defeated Sasuke.

He... killed him, actually.

Naruto is meant to be a hero... Hokage, even.

Yet he can't believe he did that.

His rival, his friend... Gone.

By his hands.

The news disturbs him greatly.

Yet when he sees you in his arms... safe in Konoha and under his protection...

He finds himself slightly soothed.

Sasuke was going to hurt you.

Naruto was just... protecting you.

Since then you're locked to Naruto's side.

He wants you as a companion, an assistant, just near him.

He hates talking about Sasuke, telling you and others not to bring him up at times.

He knows he was doing the right thing to protect you.

Yet now he worries about how easy it is to lose you...

He worries he'll hurt you too.

Despite this, Naruto doesn't allow you to leave Konoha.

He's won the battle... and the war... Now it's his job to keep his dearest friend safe.

He may even ask Sakura to help, the girl already finding issues with Naruto's thinking.

In theory, this should be a happy ending...

Yet it doesn't feel like one... Not with Naruto filled with grief...

Not with you still without freedom.

Ending 2 - Sasuke

Another outcome is Sasuke winning the battle and rivalry.

Sasuke originally didn't want to kill Naruto.

He tried to play nice, to bargain with his old friend.

If he just handed you over... Sasuke could limit the damage done.

Yet Naruto is stubborn as ever... protecting you like you're some weak girl.

Sasuke knows you're strong.

That's why he's been hunting you.

If Naruto won't give you over... Sasuke accepts that...

Then gets to work.

It takes time due to the beast that resides in Naruto.

Yet eventually Sasuke emerges victorious, not reacting to the blood on his clothes.

It... was going to happen eventually, wasn't it?

The two were going to fight and kill one another....

After the battle Sasuke snatches you, taking note of your struggling.

You try to fight him, to take advantage of Sasuke's weakened state...

Yet Sasuke manages to get you under control, telling you he's doing what's best for you.

Your talent was wasted at Naruto's side... He plans to train you.

Sasuke thinks this is where you belong... beside him.

After this it would not surprise me if you witnessed Sasuke destroy Konoha, telling you this is for the best.

After all, they're all liars.

It's either that or he tries to make himself Hokage, keeping you by his side to see that plan through.

You can fight him... but again, you'll only tire yourself out.

Sasuke won't hurt... yet he'll hurt others around you.

He plans to isolate you, envious others got to have you for so long.

He's much worse than Naruto.

There's times he experiences grief... yet he's quiet about it.

He's done it, he's won, he has you all to himself now.

He's happy about that... He just wishes Naruto would have listened to him.

You're locked away in a room for just Sasuke to see, he's tired of sharing.

This is yet another bad outcome...

One that not only locks you away... but makes you watch the death of those you care for... just so you can 'understand' Sasuke better.

Ending 3 - Sharing

This is the best outcome... yet still bad for you.

In this ending the outcome resembles canon.

Naruto and Sasuke come to a draw and stop fighting.

The two decide to both share you.

There's no point in fighting over their friend... They both want the same thing for you.

They want to protect you, they want your attention, and they want to help make you stronger.

When their injuries are treated and they're cleaned of blood... The two vow to look after you.

Naruto looks after you as Hokage and Sasuke watches over you from the shadows.

This is a more tame ending, one that's overall happier.

The two both care for you as they're best friends.

Naruto even gives you a job in Konoha, preferably one where he and Sasuke can watch you.

Sasuke often checks in, apologizing and telling you he's maturing.

Naruto likes to hang out with both of you along with Sakura.

Yet there's always that subtle sense of... isolation....

The two still control who you talk to and want your attention exclusively on them.

Konoha is your home... You belong to them.

If you ever want to leave, one of them will stop you.

Ninjas are known to be stealthy.

You're always being watched by someone.

Now that the rivalry has ended... The two are on the same page.

Neither of them die...

Yet your freedom is still restricted like the previous outcomes... and now you just have two problems...

Was this really an improvement?

[eternal-pie]

Stupid Pt.1

Shinso x reader

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 (Your POV )

——————

Shinso was frustrated

People didn't trust him, from the moment he developed his power, Shinso's every interaction was tainted by suspicion. As he grew up he began to learn to understand where this discomfort came from, it was mostly self preservation. This social divide was not the source of Shinso’s frustration.

You were.

Initaly shinso’s frustration with you came from the fact that you seemed to have none of the self preservation that every other person around him had, to put it bluntly, in the beginning he thought you were stupid.

To be fair he thought all the people who tried to trust him were stupid, no matter their reasoning be it pity, naivety or a desire to feel morally superior. Shinso was always quick to shut those people down. Any and all who tried to make a statement in befriending him were quick to regret it the moment they lost control of their body’s, more often than not he didn’t even make them do anything, a few seconds of vulnerability being enough to snuff out their false bravado.

With most people the moment he let their minds slip from his control they were gone, there had been a select few who attempted to maintain face. Poorly mind you, their discomfort and desire to get as far from him as possible was very apparent, even at a glance.

Shinso found a satisfaction in it, he wasn’t some passion project to make people feel good about themselves, though if he's being entirely honest, his immediate rejection of attempts at connection is probably a defense mechanism, but trauma makes good heros, so far as he had seen. So hitoshi was content in keeping this habit.

So you can imagine the confusion and annoyance shiso felt when you seemed to immediately perk right back up after experiencing his quirk, assaulting him with a myriad of questions about the limitations and qualities of his ability.

Hitoshi’s first impression was that, if the people who chose to trust him once were foolish. You were fucking brain dead.

By the time he had come to learn you were actually a fairly well off student he had already developed a sense of responsibility for your safety. If you were content with letting a whole ass stranger brainwash you, who knows what else you were cool with.

Over all you had a decent head on your shoulders, though you were lacking in teh ways of self preservation when it came to meeting others, seeming to Believe that every person attending a hero school couldn’t be all that bad.

Your naivety, a trait that Hitoshi usually found annoying, became the reason the two of you continued to hangout. Somewhere along teh way shinso found that he had grown fond of you.

Shinso’s biggest source of frustration would begin, ona Sunday evening, as he hung out with you in your dorm.

Most days you were fairly receptive to his help, that day wasnt one of those days. Finals were aproching and you had been craming for most of the week, with a big test tommorrow you were pushing yourself the hardest that day. Hitoshi had picked up far heathier studying habbits and was content just doing a generel reveiw, you were not. Knowing and haveing memorized everything you could resonably need to know didn’t seem to ease your anxiety.

He put his foot down when he realized you hadn’t eaten or slept properly in a couple days. You unfortunately were less then pleased with his desition.

Shinso grew tired of your defiance.

He liked to think he had a relatively good handle on his temper, but his pacience was already tightroping on a very thin line. Having gone back and forth with you for a while, you gave a final rebutal as you turned back to your paper covered desk.

“Even though you could, we both know you won't make me.”

Pacience snaped, shinso enveloped you in his control. He could feel your mind wriggle and fight against his control but he held firm.

“sit on your bed.” he spoke firmly, reaching to grab the bowl of now luke warm soup he had brought up for you, before moving to sit next to you.

“now you are gonna eat.” you put out your hands for teh soup and spoon. Hitoshi liked to think he knew you pretty well and he was danm sure that if he allowed you to feed your self even in this state you would attempt and possobly sucssed in dumping the soup out of spite.

That wouldn't be diffucult to work around. Insted of handing you the bowl, he instead filled the spoon and raised it to your lips himself.

“open your mouth.” your struggle had mostly stopped at this point, seeming resined to your fate. Once he placed the spoon on your tounge you instictuly closed your mouth around it.

“now swallow it all.” you did so without no resistace this time. With you now semmingly willing to cooperate he pulled the spoon from you mouth before releasing his hold on your mind.

“Now that I’ve made my point will you eat?” You nodded your head softly, and without another word of complaint you began to eat. You didn’t seem upset, you didn’t kick him out of your dorm or reprimand him.

Still your silence throughout the rest of his time with you bothered him. Even after he left for the night it ate at him.

had he gone to far? Hitoshi was loath to admit he had begun to enjoy your company. He found that he was devastated at the prospect of losing you, he was stupid for believing you could truly be comfortable with the level of control he could exert over you.

Shinso was almost scared to face you, an immense guilt had hollowed out his chest through the night, he had barely slept.

Instead Hitoshi found that what was going to be your “final confrontation” was nothing more than how you always greeted him, with a bright smile and a cheery call of his name.

Shinso couldn't have known that on that fateful night your dynamic had changed.

That somehow, some way.

His actions alone had changed something in you.

Awaked something in you.

A brat.

————

Part 2 in the works

Might be nsfw but I haven’t decided yet

————

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

I'm going to have a select few people who are mutuals of mine and people I follow as well as people who follow me, we're going to be a little bit pissed at this sentiment but it bares noting.

I think that we have created a culture where we allow children to become degenerates. I should not be able to get online onto multi player video games, or on discord in servers that I am in, where people from the ages of 12 to 17 are literally using BDSM language referring to themselves as "therians" or "other kin", while somehow also being trans. Somehow.

I've said this once I will say this a dozen and a half times. The modern concept idea behind what it means to be trans is royally fucked up. And we have normalized the concept idea of "gender dysphoric trans people", So widely in fact that it is now considered taboo to get yourself mentally checked by a psychologist who isn't just going to affirm you. What's even wilder is that there are people out there who are basically saying that we should destigmatize all forms of mental illness because there's nothing wrong with people who have them.

Which is absolutely terrible, because all it actually does is deify mental illness. Which we've done a great job of promoting over the past 15 plus years. And I hate it. Because there are individuals who if they just got their hormone levels checked probably wouldn't be gender dysphoric anymore. If we got away from letting kids have unfettered online access, we'd have significantly less gender dysphoric people. We need to round culture back off a little bit, where it's fine for people who have mental health problems to be medically checked and psychologically evaluated. Because unfortunately when you don't, you end up with this:

And while a few of the individuals I follow that happen to be trans might disagree with my sentiment, it's probably because you're looking at this from a standpoint of identity rather than from a standpoint of mental health. Because I have seen several people online and talk to a few who expressed gender dysphoria in their lives until they got their hormone levels checked. Only to find out that their hormone levels were exceptionally out of balance and started working to get that fixed.

And once they did that fixed them right up. And then I'm going to get the obstinate individuals who get angry saying that there's nothing wrong with trans people. And that's not what I'm saying. Because this is unfortunately not a discussion that is easy to have because people get all up in their own feelings about it. But if a person believes themselves to be trans and there is something chemically wrong in their brain. Or their body is not properly producing the amount of natural hormones for their body, it's bound to cause issues. And transitioning those people will not help them. Unfortunately under modern norms, the express process seems to be medical and surgical transition immediately.

And if I had to take a gander at why depression is so stark in trans people, is likely because many of them aren't trans and their real issues aren't being addressed. They're just being given a new "thing" to deal with. One that is they go through with could kill them. Or make them kill themselves. I mean zero harm with this post. But I'll be ignored very likely by those who get up in their own feelings about the topic. *Shrugs* think I'm hateful of you want. But I'm sick of seeing article after article of people getting caught transitioning kids after minimal if any therapy whatsoever (and is it is minimal it's affirming), only to rush them through the process of getting transitioned. And then being told it's not happening.

My question that becomes how many people have to fall through their cracks before you consider it a problem. How many hospitals have to be exposed transitioning children with little to no mental evaluations whatsoever, and often no physical evaluations, only to have their growth stunted and often end up aging significantly faster with a litany of problems ranging from lack of bone density entirely, to stuff like osteoporosis. Or heart problems.

I swear to God, if I have to say the phrase "children can't consent", one more time I'mma going to lose my shit.

[wing-ed-thing]

… And the Beast (Yonji Vinsmoke x Reader) Chapter VI

Synopsis: You thought your little crush on Prince Yonji was a well-kept secret. Yonji is mean enough to exploit your eagerness to please in the face of his unrelenting cruelty; the thought of actually developing a soft spot for you never even crossed his mind.

Word Count: 7.4k

Tags/Warnings: Dark themes ahead, including graphic violence, gore, and Dark!Yonji. Please consult AO3 for more specific tags. Chapter ends with extreme fluff for balance.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

Notes: Those with a sensitivity to war, POW situations, and gun violence are advised to proceed with caution. The gore tag applies to unnamed characters. MC is not harmed by Yonji.

If you would like to skip the graphic violence, please skip to the first ***. I will provide a summary of the section in the bottom notes.

The crying seemed as never-ending as the blackness, and every so often, you could hear pained moans and scuttling off in the distance. There was only the cold, wet concrete flooring below and the breathing of phantom bodies somewhere in the abyss. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been there. You hardly knew who surrounded you. Even when the lights came, with how delirious and exhausted, you weren’t even sure if the people crammed into your cell were the same people who had always been there. 

The golden light from the torches would pass through the dungeon, illuminating your surroundings. 

You had known the girl across the aisle when you were first taken. You had gone to school together. You thought she was from the class below you. She was even still wearing her uniform. You could see sharp cheekbones on her malnourished face. Too many of the girls you saw in the dungeon were wearing their school uniforms, and too many of them disappeared not soon after. 

A man beaten so severely that he couldn’t close his mouth took her place, and by the next time the lights passed, he too disappeared. And as time passed, it almost didn’t seem to matter who he was replaced by. It was always another frail, malnourished body with beaten flesh and barely any air in the lungs. 

Whenever you closed your eyes, you could see the mangled faces of the rebel forces that had been gunned down right in front of you and how they fell in the same spot they stood to defend their homes. And when you opened them again, there was nothing but darkness.

Small batches of prisoners were pulled out of the cells every few days. Or perhaps it was a few times a day. You couldn’t say for sure. The most visibly vulnerable were taken first: the youngest, the oldest, the visibly injured, and the ones the occupiers had stripped of their mobility aids. The ones making too much noise often went with them, along with those who tried to escape. 

And if the unfortunate few selected weren’t immediately beaten in the broad aisle between cells, they were taken upstairs. Their agonized cries could be heard through the ceiling, and they were never returned to the cells. 

It was a cruelty you never understood, even as the brutal swing of the baton struck your side. Boots crushed your fingers and frail flesh, making pain ring out across your body. It was a loud, dull ache that wormed under your skin, popping and cracking like a ringing alarm. 

You curled the best you could in the face of the barrage of hits. You could feel their impact in your bones. The sting and force of them were nowhere near as gut-wrenching as the sheer velocity of the strikes as solid met soft.

Real adrenaline had long stopped coursing through you. You remained still and weak, hardly able to properly defend yourself as you lay on the floor. A range of sensations melded together simultaneously, disrupting your thoughts and scrambling your head. 

It all just hurt. The pain of the blows eclipsed the sensation of the hits that came before, creating a dull numbness.

It hurt, and you wanted it to stop.

You didn’t want to get even. You didn’t want to fight. You just wanted the pain to stop. And yet, a tight, fearful pit welled in your chest, leaving little room for flaming anger. You were too tired for anything more than a wish. Too tired, too weak. Even at full health, you weren’t sure you had it in you to take revenge even if you wanted to. 

The thought of it flashed across your mind, abstractly and incoherently. It simply occurred to you between kicks like a creeping fog over your head. 

Fight… back…?

Fight back…?

Fight back? 

Fight back?

You almost frowned to yourself in the midst of it all. No, doing such a thing wasn’t quite in your nature. It wasn’t quite in your nature to harm others, even if you were the one hurt first. You weren’t even sure what it would look like.

Your muscles were too frail to grab the baton and wrestle it away. Your knees shook too nervously, even on a good day, to pick yourself up and stand your ground, and your voice was far too quiet to shout. And even if you found it in yourself to do any of those things, then what?

Your limbs were intact, and so were your dirty clothes. That’s what mattered. 

And just as you began to resign yourself, the dungeon flooded with light. The ground below you shook, jerking your body with terrifyingly powerful, godly force. White light flooded the room, and at that moment, you thought you died. 

The light came with a bang, followed by several other explosions and crashing sounds all around you. Each one shook the ground. You could feel debris falling all around you, yet the gust of open-air made you want to sit up and open your eyes. 

You cracked them open, but the brightness of the light made you scrunch them closed, no matter how hard you fought. You cast your closed gaze down, crawling to your knees and huddling your face in the crook of your elbow.  

The sunlight was intense, and the chaotic movement around you kept you crouched close to the ground. Cries and frantic screams filled the air as a gust of air passed. You opened your eyes under the protection of your arm, blinking a few times as your lids squeezed shut before you batted your lashes again. You didn’t know when the last time you saw sunlight was.

You raised your head, the details of your surroundings coming into focus. Your foot moved forward so that you were crouched on one knee, ready to stand. You caught a glimpse of black and green before bowing your head again as the wind swirled around you. It whistled, blowing past your hair and blinding your ears. 

Someone ran past you, tripping as their knee met your shoulder. You were forced back, falling to the ground as you tried to catch yourself. 

Your eyes shot open by instinct, only to find the dungeon completely leveled. The walls had collapsed, leaving little more than empty holding cells and chunks of concrete and metal. The tops of them appeared to have been almost cut, leaving them uniform in shape. 

You spotted to top of the facility in the distance. It was larger than you ever could have imagined. 

You stood, clutching your worst injury as prisoners who could run ran. You trudged forward in direct opposition to the current, bumping into countless people as you went. 

Limbs stuck out from under the fallen debris. Blood seeped into the uneven concrete that had cracked during what you had assumed was an explosion. The noise around you sounded deafening, yet you couldn’t hear a thing. Something dragged you forward, and when you least expected it, the crowd completely vanished.

You broke through, stumbling into an open space. A bloodied baton sat at your feet. A stream of crimson-red spatter stained the ground. You could barely focus on the vibrant color of it as you followed it with your eyes to the sound of cracking upon wet impact. 

It was a person. Two people technically, you supposed. Neither of them looked much like people. 

It was a boy, you quickly gathered. He looked like something out of the future, like a character out of one of the comics you used to read. Perhaps he was a revolutionary. A dark cape cloaked his shoulders. His hair was a color you had never seen before: a vibrant lime green. You could hardly remember what he looked like that day, but you could probably remember every inch of his gloves. 

His knuckles were stained all shades of dark red and whaled into the man under him. It took you a moment to realize it was a man. You could tell only by the hand that rattled near the caped boy’s knee with every floor-shaking strike of his fist and the guard uniform you had been so accustomed to seeing.

His punches made a terrible sound as if he were punching into a pie filled with walnut shells. The guard’s face had wholly caved in. The entire front of his face was wet, red, and spilling out over his ears. It was an unbelievable gore. The man was already dead, and yet the figure on top of him kept on punching.

Wham! Crunch. Splat.

Wham! Squish.

Blood flew everywhere. The cracking of bones rang in your ears. It was an unbelievable gore, and yet, you couldn’t look away. The bodies of the other soldiers littered what used to be the isle between the cells. Crushed teeth. Sunken chests. Blunt force damage you didn’t even think a bear could replicate. 

“What are you lookin’ at?”

You had zoned out, and the caped boy in front of you had risen to stand. He had one booted foot on the torso of the faceless corpse. Tiny spatters of blood marred his pale face. They littered his entire body, the tails of the spatter marks pointing outward. He was tall, hulking, and massive for his young features. He wiped his hand across his cheek, leaving a thick, scarlet stain in his wake. His eyes were still wide, and his grin stretched across his lips from the good work he had just done.

He couldn’t have been much older than you.

And just behind him, one of the guards picked his head off the ground. You thought you recognized him as the soldier from earlier who carried the baton. His arm moved forward, dragging his body slowly across the broken concrete below. You didn’t even have time to be fearful of the beast in front of you, too distracted by the movement in your haze state as the guard’s hand slowly reached forward to the rifle that sat on the ground. 

Your lips parted, but no words came out. They stalled in your throat as you held out a palm, your body moving faster than your voice. Your eyes met the caped boy’s gaze. 

You tried to warn him without reason. You wanted to tell him against your better judgment, in the face of his blood-stained gloves as he stood on the body of the man he had just brutalized with nothing but his fists. 

And yet…

The rifle went off with a bang. 

It nearly sent you tumbling back toward the ground.

BANG!

You let out a loud gasp of surprise, the ugly-sounding wind squeaking in your throat as you flinched back. The adrenaline was still pumping through your veins as you heard a panging sound. The explosion of gore you thought would fly toward you never came.

BANG!... Pang…

You had brought one arm to shield your head, and as you slowly emerged, your opposite hand was still pointing toward the soldier on the ground. Your single, extended index finger tremored violently even as you began to look up. 

The caped boy stood tall exactly where he had been before, seeming to be completely intact despite the deep scowl that contorted his face. He turned on his heel. The soldier on the ground’s eyes went wide as he approached. The soldier cocked the gun up, moving to take another shot before the rifle was wrenched out of his hand. 

The caped boy threw it to the ground behind him. The metal had a distinct impression where his fingers were, warping the metal and making the weapon unusable. He cocked back his fist. The soldier’s squirming and pleads did little to prevent the powerful punch that sank into his head at a velocity unseen. 

The rest of the body flew up at the impact. The limbs slammed back down against the ground. A terrible crunching sound reverberated through the air. And just like before, the caped figure began whaling on the corpse below, a broad grin on his lips. 

You watched as the punches flew, continuing to produce terrible noises as you clutched your own injuries. Your thoughts came to your foggy mind like an abstract cloud. The stinging of the large gash on your lip throbbed, a subtle reminder of what had happened before this green beast came. You could feel the breeze against your back where your shirt had been torn. You didn’t even know how long it had been like that. The breeze and the sharp pain in your gut reminded you of what could have happened.

It had to have been the revolutionary army. No one else could have this much strength, let alone use it to save your poor country.

You watched as he continued to brutalize the men who used to be your captors. You kept your eyes on him like watching someone else devour a delicious meal.

With every punch, your much smaller arms tensed. 

Brutality might not have been in your nature, but it was in his. 

After a short time, he seemed to grow bored. When he stood, he incidentally met your eye. He had a narrow gaze and expressive eyes that could widen and narrow with feral expression. His nose crinkled right above sneering lips, and his curled eyebrows scrunched his forehead. 

He was self-satisfied and covered in blood that wasn’t his own. The body of the man he just murdered lay popped open on the ground.

You were pretty sure you fell in love right there.

He hardly regarded you much more as he began to trudge in the other direction. You ran after him.

“Wait!” you yelled as loudly as your weak lungs could. You stumbled on the broken terrain. 

The boy continued a few steps longer before he finally turned. He looked upon you with disgust and acute confusion. You ran up to him, heaving at the first laborious exercise you had done in what felt like forever. 

“How do I join?” you cried. 

He looked you up and down and let out a tremendous laugh. 

“HAHAHAHA! Yeah, right!” His boots ignited with a blue flame, and just like that, he was gone.

*** Graphic content is finished, gun violence continues in scene II

An unfamiliar ship was at the dock, so you ran for the coast. It had to be the ship he came from. You could see the dark spiral towers in the distance, and it seemed like they never got closer, no matter how fast you ran. Still, you continued, pumping your legs as fast as they would go with your eyes only in one direction. 

The country had been plunged into utter anarchy. White-clad soldiers combed through the countryside with high-tech rifles, gunning down your navy-blue uniformed oppressors on sight. You gasped, managing to slide behind a piece of broken wall. A bullet ricocheted off the brick before the next one struck a soldier behind you.

Your passage was suspiciously easy, despite the bullets flying across the terrain. You continued to run, and the white-uniformed soldiers allowed you to pass through the war zone. They ignored you almost outright, focusing only on the opposing forces. You moved from solid fixture to solid fixture, only running larger distances when you gained cover from the foreign soldiers through happenstance. 

Things became less chaotic as you made your way into the trees. The firefight seemed to be behind you. Explosions sounded somewhere in the distance, always accompanied by the sound of gunfire. Pop, pop, pop. Pop, pop, pop. 

A few patrols draped over bushes and branches and slumped at the bases of trees, but the white-uniformed forces appeared to have driven the occupying troops back. Not a single soul stood out among the stretch of woods. The cone-shaped turrets only grew more prominent as you ran.

You emerged from the tree line, exploding from it with an unstopped velocity. You bounded through the trees, trying to skid to a stop before tumbling over. A line of white-uniformed soldiers drew their weapons, standing militantly and ready to attack at a moment’s notice. 

  A tall man was on the dock with two far smaller figures in tow. They turned at the noise, each staring as you picked your upper body off the ground. The soldiers surrounded you swiftly, ordering you not to move farther.

“A civilian?” the boy near the tall man remarked plainly. He was clad in red from head to foot. Like the green, caped figure before, he didn’t seem much older or younger than you.

“I want to join!” you cried. The girl, who also stood near the tall man, quirked a slender brow. “The revolutionary army’s always looking for new recruits, aren’t you? I want to join! Please put me to work or something, anything! Just take me with you!”

No one said a word for a moment. The sea breeze was a foreign sensation to your skin, and the mild heat from the full sun above felt blazing, almost as fiery as the three sets of eyes trained on you.

The tall man’s mouth opened to speak.

***

“Hey, hey.” 

It was blurry when you opened your eyes, and nearly jumped when you saw Yonji standing over you. You shot up, your spine cracking from the stiffness of the awkward position in which you had somehow dozed asleep. He took a step back, hands on his hips and lips tugged downward in acute annoyance. 

You swung your legs over the edge of your chair. The chandelier in the center of the ceiling lighted the library. You hadn’t even noticed Yonji flicking it on when he entered the room. You must’ve been fast asleep and out long enough for the sky outside to turn pitch black. You supposed it was cloudy; not a single star shone in the distance. 

You immediately stood and bowed, your mind a bit fuzzy from sleep. 

“I apologize for my negligence, Prince Yonji. How may I serve you?” You looked at him, trying to hide how you blinked in fatigue. But Yonji’s eyes acutely narrowed, and you knew nothing was getting past him. 

“How long have you been passed out?”

“I’m sorry; I’m not sure,” you admitted, glancing off. “I definitely started organizing the stock back onto the shelves—” 

Yonji let out a loud laugh.

“You took a fat catnap, huh? I should punish you for that one. Make you walk a plank or some shit,” he barked.

Yonji turned and glanced at the table, where the books you had bought earlier were arranged neatly based on some system he didn’t care to learn. The compilation appeared smaller since he’d last seen it by a negligible margin, but seeing one of the spines on the shelf behind the table deepened his frown. You followed his gaze as it made a quick sweep across the area around you.

“I’m gone for the rest of the afternoon and evening, and you haven’t even read any of them?” Yonji scoffed. His thick arms coiled across his chest. It took you a moment to piece together what he was talking about.

“I wanted to organize the new resources onto the shelves,” you tried to explain. “To keep things organized. If the way they’ve been shelved displeases you, I can go back and—”

Yonji’s head snapped toward you, his weight shifting as he leaned slightly forward.

“I dropped a fuck ton of cash for you to read ‘em, and you’ve been down here all day passed out on the job,” he huffed with a roll of his eyes. And when they finally settled on yours, you couldn’t help but notice the second his eyes widened. It was a millisecond, and the distance his brows retreated his eyelids must’ve been the most subtle of distances before he tore his gaze away in favor of some other part of the library. His lips pursed in a straight line. 

Yonji turned around, his shoulders inflating as he breathed in. 

“You slept through the entire evening, huh?” he mused with a sigh. “What happened to the food you brought back with you?” 

Yonji had ordered so many dishes at brunch that there was too much for you to eat in one sitting. There was more than you could probably eat in several sittings, but you brought it back as leftovers when you came back to the ship.

“It’s in the fridge,” you said in a quiet voice.

“Downstairs?”

“Yes, Prince Yonji.”

He turned, making an exaggerated wave as he gestured you toward the door. 

“C’mon, what are you waiting for?” Yonji grumbled, already growing impatient as you skidded forward to obey his unspoken order. You bounced out into the hallway as Yonji assumed the lead.

“If I knew you’d want the leftovers as a late-night snack, I would have given them to you, Prince Yonji,” you affirmed, not before walking directly into Yonji’s back. He had stopped in the middle of the hall, pivoting with narrowed eyes and a scrunched-up nose. He scrutinized you for a second.

“Aren’t you supposed to be smart?” he sneered, sliding his arm around your shoulders to push you forward by the palm splayed out between your shoulder blades. 

He ushered you out of the southern tower, and the double doors shut behind you. 

***

The entrance below deck was in an unfortunate part of the snail and consisted of a single set of cellar doors leading down a short stairwell. There was an entrance through the shell from where the snail was captained, but most domestic staff came for meals and to their quarters from the heavy cellar doors. 

Yonji looked out of place sitting at the kitchen island. A harsh, rectangular light hung down to illuminate the counter space making you feel like you were in an odd dream. The light cast down on him, saturating Yonji in comparison to the darkness of the rest of the floor. 

You heated some of the leftover food, arranging it neatly on the plate. You weren’t much of a cook; you definitely couldn’t plate food as nicely as Cosette, but you did what you deemed acceptable before placing the plate across the counter in front of Yonji. You reached into the top drawer at the corner of the kitchen space to pluck out a few utensils before delicately placing them in front of him.

Yonji, for his status, never seemed like the type to ever want to step foot in any servant corridor. And yet, he not only sought you out in the central kitchen, but now he sat below deck in the archival snail. You just assumed that Yonji’s appetite far surpassed pickiness when it came to kitchens. 

He moved the plate to the side before he stood, reaching across the counter to the drawer of utensils. Yonji was just barely able to pinch the knob between his fingers to flick it back open. He reached farther, now partially on the counter in front of him as he plucked out a fork and slapped it on the space in front of you before retreating to his stool. 

You looked at it as it sat, placed haphazardly in front of you, and then to Yonji. He sat with his cheek in his palm, studying the other fixtures around the open floor. The plate had been pushed toward you.

“Don’t you gotta test it for poison or something?” he grumbled. You let out a light laugh.

“Considering that this was lunch from earlier, I think you’re safe from poisons, Prince Yonji,” you hummed, leaning against the side of the counter. Just the corner separated you. 

“Yonji,” he spoke. His voice grew just a touch softer despite his almost annoyed and resigned tone. He dug his fork into the food on the plate. “Call me Yonji when we’re alone.”

Your eyes flickered around you. The kitchen and the darkness around you were as still as when you retreated down the stairs. The domestic crew had gone to bed long ago, and those piloting the ship and on watch were far away in their respective stations. 

“I thought you said I was only allowed to call you that outside Germa.”

“I’m telling you now,” he spoke with his mouth full, but his words remained soft. He swallowed, but it wasn’t the gulp that made you feel like he seemed hesitant. “That you can call me Yonji when it’s just us.” His eyes met yours, and for once, his face was devoid of scrutiny. 

The skin around his forehead and nose, which was typically scrunched up in annoyance, was relaxed and smooth. His eyes were naturally wide, round, and a brown so dark that they were almost black. His lips sat in a neutral line. A genuine-looking expression looked out of place on him, just like he appeared out of place in the servant’s kitchen.

You held his gaze, nodding slowly as you spoke,

“When it’s just us,” you said, “You want me to call you Yonji.”

You had to pause before you spoke his name. You had called him by his name before, and truly there was nothing different about addressing him when his name happened to have the word “Prince” in front of it. And yet, the word came out like a foreign object, one that you had to contort your lips and tongue for like blowing the word into a bubble. 

“Yeah, and don’t—”

“Don’t tell anyone, or you’ll gut me,” you said, and the words took up more space in the air than either of you had anticipated. They expanded softly, fluttering out into the darkness with a mutually unspoken sense of what resembled reluctance.

“Yeah,” he said singularly. Yonji’s shoulders seemed to deflate as he gingerly held your gaze, and the kitchen was quiet. 

Yonji tore his stare away first, pushing the plate toward you again. He took another piece with his fork and swiftly plopped a bite into his mouth.

“Weren’t you in the middle of checking this for poison or something?”

You let out a light laugh, leaning on the side of the counter as you dug your fork into your first bite. You stood like that in relative silence, eating from the same plate. Your body almost seemed to shake, tingling with something akin to anxiety as you avoided Yonji’s eye. 

Moments of silence weren’t foreign to you, and you could recall several times you sat with Yonji in them relatively comfortably, but something about this one was different. You had been serving him for quite some time. You were sure that all royalty let up with the formalities with their lead attendants. But as your gaze glazed as you stared at your fork, a new, mixed feeling began to bubble up in your chest. 

“It’s a shame… ya’ know?” Yonji’s voice snapped you away from a potential rabbit hole of thoughts. When you looked at his face, Yonji was also fixated on the plate, his mind somewhere else as he spoke. You supposed that the both of you were a bit lost. “I, uh… I tried looking for your book. Like at the port… and, uh… I didn’t see it.”

The prongs of his fork scratched against the near-empty plate, toying with a bit of food residue. You set yours down neatly. There was one bite left.

“What book?”

“The one my brother had you toss. I know you like to read it after dinner,” Yonji said. He also set his fork down, crossing his ankles under the stool before coiling his arms across his chest. He leaned against the counter, gaze cast downward. “I thought I would be able to find it.”

Yonji looked out of place once again. His hulking form was hunched over, and his forehead was knitted in acute ponderance. You let a small smile grace your lips as your eyes averted to somewhere in the darkness. The actual weight of his words didn’t hit you. 

“That’s okay, Pr—Yonji.”

“You might think it’s fine, but I’m pissed about it.” Yonji’s shoulders straightened out suddenly as he sat up and slammed his hand down on the counter. The noise shook the surface with a singular bang, rattling the plate and utensils. Your eyes immediately darted around the blackness, wondering if any of the domestic crew was roused. “Leave it to Ichiji to be all business.”

“Prince, uh, I mean, Yonji,” you hummed nervously, drawing little circles on the countertop with your nail. He regarded you with a raised brow. “About the book, I, uh, Master Ichiji only said that it didn’t belong in the library, so I, um, put it not in the library.” 

You met his dark irises guiltily, contrary to the widened expression of pride plastered over Yonji’s face. He shifted his weight to lean forward, head in his palm as a wide grin contorted his lips.

“You little sneak—”

“I apologize for my indiscretion.”

— “You’re brilliant! HA! You really are my aid after all!” Yonji shot back, slamming his hand on the counter again before he stood. “C’mon, I wanna know where you stashed it—”

— “It’s in my quarters.”—

“Well, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. We’re already below deck, aren’t we?” Yonji was already tugging you in a random direction, despite now knowing his way around. You absentmindedly placed your hand over his, stopping short as he turned to question you. 

“About that…” You glanced toward the stairs. “My quarters are actually upstairs.” 

Yonji’s face scrunched with visible confusion. 

“Upstairs?” he questioned rudely. “There’s nothing up there but books, isn’t there?”

His hand was still wrapped around your wrist, but he allowed you to slip your hand from his grasp to grab his fingers. You ushered him to the stairs leading above deck. 

“I’ll show you.”

***

While most of the domestic staff had their designated areas below deck, you had made your space in the tallest room of the southern library. Out of the cellar doors, through the main doors to the library, past the main chamber, and all the way up a winding flight of stairs, the ship rocked below you. You held onto a banister as you climbed. 

The staircase wound up several flights, growing warmer as you ascended. 

“Oh shit!” The snail hit a large wave, causing the whole ship to rumble and shake. You slipped on the stair you were on, crashing back-first into Yonji’s chest. One arm instinctively wrapped around you, holding you firmly as his other hand clutched the banister. Yonji’s shoulder smushed against the wall as the ship creaked. 

Every part of him was sturdy, from the arm that crossed completely from your shoulder to the other to the mass of muscle that was his chest that you could feel on your back. The motion was instinctual but one that had taken you aback as you dared consider the movement professional. 

Although, perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised. Considering Yonji’s line of work, you were sure that keeping you from falling down some stairs was the least exciting save he’d ever performed. It made you wonder how many people Yonji had served as a bodyguard for. He had undoubtedly used you for target practice a fair number of times, but you had never truly seen Yonji in action.

Only when the ship began to settle did he slowly release you, positioning himself behind you to ensure you wouldn’t tumble off. 

“You really do this every night?” he grumbled. 

“You get used to it!” you laughed, quickly bounding up the stairs ahead with your hand on the railing. 

The top of the turret was exceptionally tiny, consisting of one circular room partially split into seven sections by shelving. The shelves jutted out from the walls, each just a wingspan in width, separating the limited space into little nooks. Old files sat amongst them, each set wired or corded in place so as to not be disturbed by the shifting waves. 

You took off your shoes, placing them to the side, and to your surprise, Yonji did the same.

Two shelves extended out of the wall directly ahead at a diagonal angle. One of the diagonal shelves and a straight one that branched out horizontally from the left-hand wall created a corner nook at the far end of the room. You quickly disappeared into it. 

Yonji followed. The movement of the waves was more intense upstairs, and yet the solid foundation of the turret mitigated a significant portion of the violent bobbing. As Yonji walked across the short room, he couldn’t help but note in acute astonishment how calm it was. A cool breeze blew from the section you disappeared into. 

You nearly bumped into Yonji as you emerged with the book, but the missing library book of fairy tales was far from Yonji’s focus. He stood with his hands on the two adjacent bookshelves staring into the corner at the little space you had made for yourself. A tiny mat sat on the ground with neat sheets and a pillow. It took up a majority of the space. From what Yonji could see, you hardly had any personal effects. A few items sat tucked amongst the corded-up files. An open window sat to the left on the wall. It was a good-sized window, letting in the cool evening breeze. 

“Here’s the book you wanted,” you said, growing wary when Yonji didn’t respond. He didn’t look at you, keeping his eyes only on the space behind you. You awkwardly shifted, a subtle heat rising to your skin as you sheepishly spoke, “Master Ichiji told me that it didn’t belong in the library, but he didn’t say anything about the annex.” You laughed lightly. 

“This is where you live?” Yonji just about gasped breathlessly. His voice was laced with complete and utter disbelief as he pushed forward, knocking you back as he stepped into what amounted to your room. It barely had room for the both of you to stand, something that Yonji must’ve picked up on quickly as he unceremoniously plopped himself down on your bed. He hit the mat with a thump.

“Ow,” he grumbled. The force at which he dropped wasn’t kind to him in the face of your mat, which had very little cushion to it. “No wonder you can knock out on that chair downstairs. This thing is like a rock.”

“I would’ve thought you’ve experienced worse on the field.”

“Well, yeah, but I can still enjoy a comfy bed, you know?” he snorted, shifting his weight to get situated as he sat. He placed your pillow behind his back as he leaned against the stone wall, a visible scowl on his face. 

The ship hit a large wave head-on, and you were thrown forward before you could catch yourself. For a second time that night, Yonji caught you, but not before letting your nose smack into his solid chest first. You were sure you broke it. 

“Whoa there! How the hell do you live up here?” Yonji laughed as you clutched your nose. It felt intact, and no blood was running from it from what you could feel. “I think sleeping below deck might be less of a hassle. Keep you in one piece, you know? I can’t have my only aid tripping down some stairs and dyin’ on me.”

You sat on the cot on your knees between Yonji’s thighs, your heels propping you up as his touch slowly retracted from you. The book was still clutched close to your chest. Yonji sat up a bit to take it from your grasp. Even despite his height, Yonji could barely see over the windowsill. 

“I made my home up here before things were as established as they are downstairs. I like it up here anyway.” 

Yonji regarded the book in his hands, thumbing through the pages in quiet thought.

“Before things were established downstairs?” he repeated with a scrunch of his lip. “When did you come here again?”

“Probably not important.”

“Probably.” 

Yonji let the mass of pages run over his thumb, and when he reached the end, he combed through the book another time. Your bookmark was missing from the compilation. 

You sat before him, watching as he buried himself further in thought. Moonlight passed through the window above, casting your little nook in blue light. You reached toward one of the lower shelves to flicker on an electric lamp. It was a tiny bulb that gave off a warm glow, contrasting the cool pigments of the night with an inviting orange color. 

Your eyes met Yonji’s in the lantern light. 

His eyes were round, just like they were in the kitchen. And a beat passed where the bobbing of the ship seemed to still, and the silence around you became deafening. Yonji lowered the book to his lap, the pages flipped to a familiar one. His finger held the spot as if he were afraid to lose it. 

Your eyes flickered to the open page and then to his stark gaze. 

“Yonji?” you called softly, the word falling from your lips smoother than it ever had before. Yonji appeared equally taken aback, a glint of something sparking in his dark irises.

“Yeah?” he whispered. 

You didn’t know what to say next. 

There hadn’t been anything you wanted to say. 

You had just wanted to say his name.

“How did you know I read this after dinner?” You glanced away from him to the open pages. Their familiarity once again struck you. The pages were arranged almost exactly where you left them. And when you looked back to Yonji, you could catch the tail end of him following your gaze. 

He moved to close the book, and in a moment without thought, you moved forward to place your hand between the pages. You kelt on all fours, one hand splayed across the open book in his lap while your opposite grasp planted in the sheets at Yonji’s side. 

“Wait.” The word slipped from your mouth. 

And he did. Yonji said nothing as he stared forward in acute shock. His lips parted to speak, but for once, Yonji closed them.

You tugged at the book, only feeling a second of opposition before Yonji quietly relinquished it to you. 

You read the page number and heading and skimmed a few paragraphs. It was exactly what you thought. 

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Your gaze wavered, unsure of whether you should look at Yonji directly. He sat stiffly in your periphery. You could see the tension in his shoulders. The way his arms crossed over his chest spoke enough to you as he seemed to morph into the wall.

“Just read.” 

His voice was as gruff as usual, but his words came out quietly, almost like a plead. 

There was a moment of shifting as Yonji moved to the side. You scooted in next to him, pressing the back of your shoulder to the cold stone wall. You curled, one knee over the other, as you brought the book into your lap. Yonji also turned his shoulder a bit to the side, pivoting his body to face toward yours. 

And you did are you were told; you read. You read from where you had left off with the cook’s children— you hadn’t read to them for quite some time now— until the end of the story. They were relatively short, and when you reached the end, you looked to Yonji for approval. 

He stared off somewhere amongst the files, and with little indication of his thoughts, you started on the next story. 

You read deep into the night, occasionally shifting on your mat that wasn’t good for lounging. And at some point, you found Yonji’s head resting in your lap while you splayed your book out over the left side of his chest. You leaned a bit to the side, distributing the weight of him over your side-saddled thighs as your forearm splayed diagonally over his torso. 

You could feel as he breathed, steadily in and out, and every intake of breath that you took at the start of a new sentence inflated your side against his. 

You read until your voice was hoarse. But even as you began to fizzle out, Yonji remained silent. His eyes had closed a bit ago. You weren’t even sure he was awake. His head was heavy, but you didn’t mind.

You closed the book, placing it to the side. The little reading light was too far to reach with your legs pinned down. Your back pressed against the pillow Yonji had relinquished, reinforcing the little nest of blankets you amassed. You curled, slumping back and letting your head rest. 

You didn’t know how much time passed before you began to drift to sleep…

“Our mom used to read those to us.” 

Yonji’s voice cut through the silence, waking your tired mind. Maybe you had been sleeping for longer than you thought. Your reading light had timed out, leaving the nook in relative darkness, only interrupted by the bluish glow of the night that cast through the window. 

You stirred with a hum, only partially processing your surroundings. 

“Well, not really us, I guess. I had this older brother, like, years ago… He and Reiju would visit Mom when we were all really little, and she’d read these stories,” Yonji said. You hummed, just barely processing what he was saying. “I think we, uh—like me, Ichiji, and Niji— decided we were too cool for it, but, uh… we’d always sit in the hall outside to listen. We never said a word about it…”

The ship continued to rock on the waves. The evening conditions were calm, creating a lull perfect for sleeping. You could feel the sea waver in your bones, and Yonji’s words filled your ears.

“Do you miss her?” you asked. Your mouth felt stale from stillness, like wrenching open a door after it had been shut for a long time. 

“I don’t think so,” Yonji admitted, letting his words fizzle out in the stillness of the atmosphere. “I don’t remember her too much. Mom was kinda someone who was just there.” You felt his shoulders shift to accent his words. 

“I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know what else to say.

”Nothin’ to be sorry about.”

***

It was warm. The air around you was acutely humid, and the sun beams had reached near burning. They woke you up unceremoniously and ungracefully as you peeled your eyes awake. Your muscles were heavy, pressure laced through your limbs from sleeping awkwardly on them for the entire night. But the unease in your body was sidelined by the tight tension wrapped around your throat. 

Yonji lay behind you, sound asleep with his elbow wrapped around your throat, functionally trapping you in a headlock. He buried his face in the top of your hair, his large form almost enveloping you as he curled around you. 

A deep sense of dread struck the center of your chest and reverberated throughout your entire body. You struggled to release yourself from his grasp but to no avail. If anything, the more you struggled, the tighter his arm seemed to coil around your neck. You tapped his forearm, grasping his wrist as you tried to shake him.

“Prince Yonji! Prince Yonji!” 

He hardly stirred, groaning something under his breath as he buried himself deeper in your hair.

“Prince Yonji, you’re late for breakfast!”

Breakfast. That was the word that caused Yonji to immediately shoot up, only to be met with a face full of sunbeams. He flinched at the sudden light, shielding his eyes. The sun was far higher in the sky than it had ever been when you woke him up to shoo him off to breakfast. 

“Ah, shit!”

Yonji scrambled up, and it was only then that you noticed that Yonji had lost his shirt somewhere over the course of the night. You rifled through the messy sheets before finding it kicked to the bottom of the bed. You hardly said anything to each other while you unceremoniously threw it to him as he headed out of your nook. Yonji caught it without having to look, throwing it over his shoulders before bolting down the stairs. 

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Summary of scene I: MC is a prisoner taken during the country's revolution where they are held in captivity for torture/beatings at the hands of a cruel, unnamed occupier. Yonji is the one to destroy the facility and takes great pleasure in brutally mutilating the occupiers who beat MC. MC has always had a softer nature, and felt a strong sense of gratitude to Yonji, who was able to fight cruelly when MC never perceived being able to do such a thing on their own.

Summary of scene 1 & 2: (cont.) MC runs through a war torn battlefield to a Germa ship at the port. Thinking they're the revolutionary army, they beg Judge to let them join. Young Ichiji and Reiju witness this. The answer given is not shown before MC wakes up from their flashback.

Author's notes: It's the "roll credits" chapter! Not in the sense that it's the last chapter, but that I have finally dropped the title in the story hahahaha. For once, I don't have the next chapter queued up, but I still appreciate any support. I will try to have things ready for our usual 100 combined likes and reblogs, but give me a little wiggle room!

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

[deadsetobsessions]

What’s in a cape, but the hopes and dreams of the one who bears it?

What’s in a cape, but shelter and warmth for those that receive its protection?

What’s in a hero suit, but a person that’s determined to die in it?

——

Long before Danny Phantom died in his hazmat suit, Bruce Wayne donned his cowl to dive between Gotham and the bullets with faces engraved on them. His cape began to signify fear, for those that harmed Gotham knowingly. But for the rest, it became a sign of protection, of promised vengeance against the crime committed.

And for a select few, the cape was a shelter during cold and rainy patrols. For Tim Drake, the third Robin, it was a warmth he’d never experience past those moments.

When Danny Fenton became Danny Phantom, he’d had wanted to have a cape like the crusader.

Danny wasn’t sure if he wanted to shelter or be sheltered.

But eventually, as things escalated and Danny found himself with less time for normal, personal things, that wish shuddered to an ember. After all, Danny had learned that he doesn’t get the luxury of protection. Not anymore. Which meant he had to be the one doing the protecting. A thousand miles away, as Danny came to terms with it on a clear Amity night, Robin was huddled beneath Batman’s cape to shelter from the pelting rain that came often with Gotham’s gloom.

When Danny got pulled along, invisible and attached to Robin’s side as the vigilante got thrown into a prison, he witnessed Robin talk to his evil older Batman self.

He’s visible again before he knew it, startling the two versions of Robins. Ice slammed into the Robin that became Batman as memories rung through Danny’s head. Where Robin was, stood himself. Where the Evil Robin Batman laid on the floor, covered in glowing ice, was Dan.

Danny died, and became a hero. He just had the unfortunate luck to live to see himself become the villain.

He would never allow Robin to go through it alone, not when Danny had his family and friends to fall back on. Robin, in this cage, ripped away from his team and in the midst of an argument with Batman, was painfully so.

“I’m Phantom.” Danny introduced himself. “Looked like you were in a bit of a spot. I’m sorry for butting in, if you wanted to take care of him yourself.”

“Robin.” Robin was wary. That’s okay. “How are you here?”

“That one’s on you, actually.” Danny glanced around. “Let’s get out of here before edgy future you wakes up. The ice won’t melt, and it’ll be hard to break, but I honestly don’t want to stick around for him to wake up.”

“Can you move him?” Robin eyed their cell contemplatively.

“Sure.”

——

“That seemed personal, earlier.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah. Had the displeasure of meeting an alternate evil version of myself that lost everyone I loved. Kind of hit a sore spot there.”

“…right.”

“No worries, you’re good. My friends and family promised to stay away from explosive sauce.”

“That’s good. So… where do you live?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” Danny somersaulted in space next to Robin’s jerryrigged space ship. “Anyways, we’re friends now, so I’ll make sure you don’t live to see yourself become a villain.”

“See, that sounded like a threat.”

“It’s not! I don’t kill! And besides, if you were dead, you’d probably be a ghost, and you’d kick my ass for killing you!”

“Are you implying you’re dead?”

“Not an implication. I’m dead. Kind of. Half. I’m still breathing even if I kind of don’t need to. So, where are your friends?”

Danny will be damned before he let his new friends die in their suits, even if they make the job incredibly hard for him. After all, there’s only room for one dead hero on the team, and that’s him.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

I So, So, Right I pt.4

Stepbro! Anakin × innocent reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: smut, inappropriate relationships, oral sex, public/semi-public, demeaning/condescending words toward reader, fingering, dom/sub dynamics, dd/lg dynamics (implied), daddy kink

Info: Modern AU, Anakin is whipped, Anakin literally worships the ground you walk on, reader is accidentally a brat, reader has oral fixation

NOT PROOFREAD

The next few hours of your day were agonizingly boring, you had already paced around the entire house, called your friend to confirm she was still up for your hangout tomorrow, and taken a shower just to have something to do. Your hair wrapped up in a towel and a thin robe wrapped around your frame as you wondered back into the kitchen.

Opening and closing the fridge in hopes that the next time you open it a yummy treat will have magically manifested. Unfortunately the fridge had failed to conjure something, anything appetizing so you settled for leftover lasagna.

With your belly full you retired to your room, scanning your bookshelf and selecting a classic. Tossing it on the bed before digging through your dresser for something comfortable to wear.

“Cozy.” You mumbled to yourself as you pulled out some fuzzy shorts, pushing aside everything else to find the matching shirt.

Huffing in aggravation you slipped on your underwear and the shorts while making the trip from your room to Anakin’s. It wasn’t uncommon for your clothes to get misplaced, sometimes when Anakin puts away the laundry he gets -alittle- impatient with folding. So he often ends up scooping what’s left in the basket into his arms and dropping it in the nearest dresser drawer.

Shuffling through the clothes you felt your hand touch something cool, curious to see what it was you pulled it from its hiding place. It seemed to be a trinket box, a deep blue hard plastic box with a very small latch. You popped it open and immediately recognized some of the items inside.

Movie ticket stubs, rocks you’d collected, the fancy coaster from the restaurant where you’d first met. A box of memories, a box of all things you. Your heart swelled as you picked up the items immediately remembering each moment connected to each precious keepsake.

At the bottom of the shallow box you found one thing that was unfamiliar. A tiny black velvet drawstring bag, hesitant to open it since you’d already invaded his privacy by opening the box in the first place. But what’s the harm right? You’d come this far… might as well take a look.

Carefully opening the bag, you turned it upside down above your open palm. Two metallic items clanked together as they fell into your hand. A simple but elegant ring and a tiny pendant meant for a dainty necklace. You clapped your hand over your mouth with the bag still between your fingers.

Hurriedly tucking the precious jewelry safely back into the bag and arranging the items in the box in the same places you’d found them. You tucked it back into its hiding place, shoving the drawer shut as if it burned you. Shaking out your hands you opened the next drawer and saw the shirt you were looking for laying right on top. Why couldn’t you have opened that one first?

Though the questions you really wanted to ask were ‘Why is his mother’s engagement ring in a box filled with things meant to represent you?’ ‘Where did the pendant come from? Who did it belong to?’

It had been two hours since your discovery and your nerves had finally subsided. You willed your mind to tuck those thoughts into the crevasses of your brain. It’s a trinket box, of course he’d put things like that in there! How silly of you to react in such a way!

You’d tried to read to put your focus into something else, but the words melted together on every page. You groaned in frustration, if only you’d done your own laundry last time! You wouldn’t have ever had a reason to dig through his clothes and you would’ve never seen the box.

Pressing the heel of your palms into your eyes and scrubbing until you saw colored dots. A nap. Yes, that’s what you need. A nice little nap to forget about your invasion of privacy and the troublesome things you’d discovered because of it.

You hopped up to close the curtains then got right back in bed. Pulling the blanket up to your neck and tucking your favorite stuffed animal under your arm, you tried your best to let sleep consume you.

Your blankets rustled, the mattress dipping under the weight of someone slipping into bed with you. Stirring slightly at the feeling of warm skin against your back, a hand stroking your upper arm slowly brought you back to consciousness. Your eyes adjusted to the dark room, only lit by the evening’s sun beams sneaking around your curtains and the bathroom light. Revealing the most beautiful soft smile on the lips of your love.

“Little sleepyhead.” He whispered, pressing his soft plump lips to your forehead.

You breathed in deeply, tucking yourself under his arm and pressing your nose to his neck. Drowning in the scent of his freshly washed hair and still damp body.

“Have you been home long?” You yawned.

“Nah, just about an hour. I didn’t wanna wake you up just yet so I had a bite to eat and a shower.” He nuzzled into your hair, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.

“You were gone soooo looong.” You groaned, “I was so bored.”

“My poor girl.” He laughed.

“Don’t make fun of me!” You pouted, pulling back to see his grinning face.

He leaned forward quickly to catch your protruding bottom lip between his teeth. Scrunching his nose and pulling gently, after releasing your lip he placed a soothing kiss over it.

“But it’s so fun.” He laughed.

“Yeah, for you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey, no attitude.” He raised his eyebrows in a challenge, while his gaze stayed stern.

“M’sorry.” Looking up at him with puppy eyes.

“I know you are princess.” he smoothed your hair back, twirling a lock around his finger and bringing it up to tickle your nose.

Something about his tone of voice, how he sounded so confident in that statement, made heat pool between your legs. You felt your cheeks blush, stomach swirling with nerves. Just as you were forming a sentence through the muddy waters of your mind, a noise made you both jump.

“Shit.” Anakin scrambled out of the bed, an obvious erection tenting his loose boxers.

It was Obi-Wan, treading down the hall, quickly glancing at your bedroom door you realized it was unlocked. Anakin had slipped into the bathroom, closing the door as quietly as possible. You laid there, frozen in confusion, why had he run away like that?

Though you didn’t have too much time to wonder, because Obi-Wan’s fist was knocking on your door.

“Come in.” You said, leaning over to turn on your lamp light.

“Hey,” he peeked in, “you feelin’ okay?”

“Mhm, I was just tired is all.” You answered, sitting up.

“Sorry to wake you sweets, your mom sent me up, dinner is ready. Do you know where-“ he started, interrupted by Anakin’s hand coming down on his shoulder.

“There he is!” He laughed, bringing an arm across his body to ruffled his -now fully dressed- son’s hair.

Anakin gave you a sly wink over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Reaching around to flick on your over head light, flashing it a few times for good measure and earning a light scolding from his dad.

“C’mon, leave her be.” Obi-Wan laughed, headed back down the hall.

Anakin stayed in your doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

“You heard the man, gotta leave ya be.” He shrugged, hiding a smile.

“Don’t say things like that!” You threw the nearest weapon you could find, a stuffed animal.

He caught it effortlessly, tossing it to the floor, his playful attitude dwindling. He walked over to you, holding his hand out for you to take. You accepted and let him pull you out of the bed, enveloping you in what would’ve been a sweet and comforting embrace if not for the words he whispered in your ear.

“Are you trying to get in trouble?” His lips brushing your earlobe, “cause it seems like you are.”

“N-no! No I don’t want to!” You whisper shouted, eyebrows turned up in concern.

“My little good girl,” he tutted, gripping the back of your neck, “turned bratty the minute I showed you how I could make you feel.”

His face buried in the gentle slope of your neck, his fingers intwined in your hair tugging gently. His free hand sliding down your back to grip your ass and knead the doughy flesh. His tongue darting out to glide along the soft flesh, drawing a mewl from your eager body.

“I-I’m not a br-brat.” You protested, feeling weak in the knees already.

“Yeah you are.” He growled, pulling your head back by your hair, “but you’re my brat.”

A whimper escaped you, earning a dark chuckle from Anakin.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ll help you be good again.” He released you from his strong hands.

“You will?” You asked, hopeful, disappointed with yourself for misbehaving.

“Of course babydoll.” He grinned, pointer finger hooked under your chin. “That’s what Daddy’s here for.”

Oh fuck, a gush of slick dripped from your cunt, wetting your panties. Daddy? Your eyes widened, in awe of how Anakin saying just one word could make you feel so, so many things all at once. He had a knowing look on his face, as if he expected this to be your response. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you with him down the hall.

Dinner concluded without any hiccups, that was until your mother suggested a ‘family movie night’. You couldn’t really say no, Anakin had bumped your foot and very slightly shook his head when you began to protest. Catching you at the sink where you stood scraping off the bits from your plate.

“If we both told them no they’d be suspicious.” He whispered, a hand sneaking to your plump backside, rubbing soothing circles with his knuckles.

“Why?” You asked, hearing the clink of your plate against the silverware in the sink.

“Baby,” he drew the word out, pain in his eyes, “you know we can’t let anyone find out about us.”

“But why?” You pouted, crossing your arms and stomping one foot.

His expression hardened at your defiance which you quickly recognized, fixing your posture and dropping your arms.

“Good girl.” He nodded, adding a sigh, “they won’t understand. No one would understand.”

“Is that why you ran away earlier?” You questioned, his hand coming up to rest against your cheek.

“I want to shout from the rooftops and let everyone know just how much I love you, but I can’t.” He pulled you in close for a tight embrace, cradling your head to his chest protectively.

A soft sniffle met his ears and his heart broke, shattered to a million pieces. This was so selfish of him and he knew it, he knew the consequences, he knew it was wrong. He couldn’t help it though, not when it comes to you. You with the gorgeous smile, the laugh that reminded him of fairy bells, the softness of your voice when you spoke to him in the cover of night.

That’s all you’d be able to enjoy, love under the blanket of darkness.

“Please don’t cry.” He whined and squeezed you tighter, “please, I can’t stand it.”

You simply nodded, rubbing your eyes and nose against his chest to wipe away the tears.

“I’ll find a way.” His voice strong and resolute, “I’ll make sure of it, I promise.”

You both had missed the sound of slippered feet on the kitchen tile, only being alerted to the presence of another person when they let out a sharp breath. You felt Anakin’s muscles tighten, his heart quicken under the warm fabric of his shirt.

He was wracking his brain, to find an excuse and settling on the first thing that surfaced in the waters of panic. He twisted his body and yours in the direction of the noise, you could feel his chest heave in relief. He lifted his arm and brought his finger to his lips, half mouthing and half whispering to his father.

“Boy problems.” He wasn’t lying, he was just omitting that he was the offending boy.

Obi-wan tutted, coming forward to place a loving hand between your shoulders.

“It’ll be alright. Let’s go get your mind off it huh?” He suggested, motioning to the living room.

You peeled yourself out of Anakin’s arms, allowing him to guide you to the living room, taking a seat on the plush carpet in front of the couch.

“I’ll get your mind off it.” He whispered, nipping your earlobe.

You giggled through one more sniffle, and Anakin left your side to grab two throw blankets. Throwing one over you and tucking himself under the other, with his back leaned against the front of the couch he took the remote and flipped through the streaming services.

With your parents settling in above you, you managed to enjoy your time. But of course, half way through the movie you let your head fall back against the couch cushion. Soon after your eyes fluttered closed, Anakin smiled softly at the sound of your tiny snores.

You were jostled around, feeling arms scooping you up. Anakin’s forearm hooked beneath your butt to support your weight and his other pressing your upper body to his securely. You stirred halfway through the journey up the stairs.

“Hmm?” You sleepily took in your surroundings.

“Shh baby, I’m just taking you to bed.” He whispered, pushing open the bedroom door, momentarily removing his arm to lock the door.

Gently he laid you down, rolling you to your side. Hazily opening your eyes you recognized that this was not your bed and you were not in your room. Anakin had put you in his bed, and he was now walking through the bathroom to your room, locking the door in there as well.

You sat up, yawning and wiping the sleep from your eyes, groggy but conscious enough to speak when he re-entered his room.

“M’sorry I fell asleep.” You mumbled, holding out your arms and flapping your hands to beckon him closer.

He of course happily obliged, shedding his tshirt and pants on his way. Slipping into the bed next to you with a comforting hand to your cheek which you gratefully leaned into.

“My poor baby.” He cooed, leaning in to kiss the sleep away.

His lips slotted against yours and you tentatively returned the kiss, soon allowing him to deepen it when your body begged your brain to catch up. Snaking your arms around his neck earned a groan from his lips that were wrapped around your tongue, sucking gently.

Without breaking contact with your sweet mouth he pushed you into the mattress so that he was hovering above you. He spread your legs with a bump of his knee and you eagerly obeyed, allowing him to lower himself against your heated core. A sinful moan of yours was trapped in his mouth when pressed his already throbbing length into the apex of your thighs.

“Just woke up and already begging for my touch.” He snickered, sloppy kisses along your jawline as he snuck his hands under your shirt.

He placed a firm hand on your breast, palming and massaging it while using the other to guide your shirt over your head. With both breasts exposed he descended on them, peppering them with hungry kisses, suckling and nibbling on both nipples, unable to let one go without his attention for too long.

Keening and rolling your hips against him as he attacked your chest provided not relief at all, your body screaming for his eager mouth to travel lower.

“Ani.” You whined, pushing his shoulders gently.

“Not now sweet girl.” He mumbled against your supple flesh.

He smiled as he brought his teeth back down to the gentle slope of your breast, biting and closing his lips around you, tongue flicking against the skin once he released it from his teeth. He let his hands roam, exploring every inch of you. Making sure to find your hand often and give you a reassuring squeeze. His mouth finally delved lower, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake while it traveled the expanse of your abdomen.

“Gotta taste my sweet little pussy.” He groaned, hooking his finger in the waistband of your shorts and yanking them down your legs along with your panties.

The animalistic noise he made when he spread your cunt open for him to see was nothing short of pornographic. Just the sound of him pining over your wetness was enough to make your hole flutter around nothing, making you feel hopelessly empty.

“Please Anakin, please I need it.” You begged.

“Need what princess?” He teased, his hot breath blowing against your cunt.

“Ani!” You pouted, slamming your fists down on either side of you.

“Hey.” He said in a gruff voice, warning you.

You stayed silent, gazing into his softening eyes, hoping your stare would be enough to sway him into giving you what you wanted. Slowly he did, introducing his lips first, chaste kisses from your mound down to your dripping hole. The tip of his tongue retracing those steps to elicit a soft and drawn out ‘oh’ from your kiss swollen mouth.

He gently delved deeper into your folds, humming at the taste of you. It was as if he enjoyed this more than you did if that was possible. From the way his breathing got heavier and the death grip he held on your hips you’d think he was the one writhing beneath you. Eating you wouldn’t be a good enough descriptor, he was - devouring- you, insatiable and aggressive.

His hot wet tongue breached your pussy and dove as deeply as possible, moaning in sync with you. His grip of your hips loosened, freeing up his thumbs to press into your hips, massaging them in circles, adding another layer of pleasure for you. You couldn’t help the trashing of your body, your fist abused by your own teeth and you bit down in hopes to stifle your cries.

“So good baby,” he groaned, suckling your clit, “doing so fuckin’ good f’me.”

“Mhm!” You squirmed, “I wanna be good for you Ani.”

“Shit. I’ll cum before you do if you keep talking like that.” He shivered, rutting into the bed.

He couldn’t let that happen, he needed your cum, he needed his lips coated in your juices like he needed air to breathe. He doubled down, rolling your clit between his teeth in such a way that the white heat in your lower stomach flashed with electricity, shocking your nerves with the sudden and harsh orgasm.

Your body convulsed as you buried your face into the pillow beside you. Painfully swallowing your cries, feeling your hot tears staining the softness of the pillow. Anakin lapped up everything you gave him, every drop coating his chin was licked up by his greedy tongue.

“God I could do this for hours.” He moaned, giving you no down time at all before starting again, the sensitivity made you hiss, kicking your legs involuntarily.

“M’not done.” He growled, holding your legs still.

He reached up beside you, taking the pillow from your face and folding it in half. Lifting your bottom with no effort and sliding the pillow under your lower back.

“What’re you doing?” You whined, trying to close your legs.

“Working this tight cunt open.” he moaned, his middle finger toying with your soaked core.

“Just one okay baby doll?” He asked, tearing his blown out pupils from your glistening cunt to look at you for permission.

Sighing in relief at your eager nod, he dipped the tip of his finger past your folds. Circling the hole gently, and moaning as he oh so slowly pushed into your virgin pussy.

“God.” He grunted through clenched teeth. “Look at my pretty pussy, all f’me.”

“All for you Ani.” You bucked up into his hand, begging for him to pump his thick digit into you.

“You want it? My baby girl wants me to fuck her open with my fingers?” He wasn’t asking, he was just trying to humiliate you.

“Yes!” You whimpered, clenching around him at his condescending tone.

“Squeezing me so tight darlin’.” He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Couldn’t even get another finger in.”

“Anakin, please.” You whined, “please I need more.”

At that he hooked his finger and began dragging the tip across the spongey wall of your pussy, drawing circles as he pumped in and out. Keening at the new sensation had you gripping the sheets hard enough to rip them.

“Can’t baby,” he moaned, “just gotta wait, be patient.”

“No. Anakin!” You whined, reaching down to grab his wrist.

His free hand blocking yours before you could even get halfway.

“Did you just tell me no?” He growled, you shook your head, desperate to shove those words back in your mouth and swallow them.

“You want more? Fine.” He said sternly, “I’ll give you more.”

He immediately started fucking his long digit into your soaked cunt with such fervor that you had to reach above you and grab the head board for support. Without missing a beat he came up from his resting position and towered over your small frame.

“Where did my sweet little girl go huh? It’s like you’re trying to get punished.” He sighed, as if disappointed.

Attacking your mouth with his, you could taste yourself on his tongue as it forced its way past your teeth.

And just like that, with your tongue trapped between his teeth to prevent you from screaming he wrapped his large hand around your neck, cutting off your air supply the second he felt your cunt clamp down on him. Drawing out your second orgasm with a ridiculous amount of force. Your thighs closing when he didn’t remove his hand, still pumping his finger at jackhammer pace.

“Don’t.” He broke away from your lips and wrenched your legs back apart. “You wanted more, so take it you fucking brat.”

“M’sorry Ani!” You whined, pulling him closer with your arms around his neck. “So sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

Anakin dove into your neck, sucking in the gentle slope near your shoulder. He was ignoring you in hopes you’d keep apologizing, as disgusting as it was he was getting off on the sounds of your worried voice, it made him feel powerful. You were just his little puppet right now, and he was your puppeteer.

“I wanna be your good girl, please!” You wrapped your legs around his waist. “Please don’t be mad with me Daddy, please I promise to be good.”

Just as he was feeling on top of the world with his baby girl trapped under his thumb, he was shrinking, melting from the one word you’d uttered like a prayer. His eyebrows shot up along with his head, eyes wide as he looked down at you. He softened immediately, and you held back a smirk now that you’d discovered this was his weakness.

“Oh my pretty baby,” he cooed, his hand caressing your side lightly, “you are a good girl.” He leaned down catching your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Really?” You sniffled.

“Yes really,” he sighed, “my baby doesn’t need punishment does she?”

You agreed, shaking your head with a pouty lip and gripping his sandy locks between your fingers.

“Just need Daddy’s cock don’t you baby doll?”

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[ecstarry]

"The Haircut" Edmund's and Regulus' first kiss for @futurequibblerjournalist

“You’ll have to ask Avery,” Evan quipped, barely holding back his laughter.

“No,” Regulus replied sharply. “He’ll never agree to help me.”

“Oh, but you’re so charming. I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Evan said, not even glancing up from his book, his smirk now fully visible.

“There has to be someone else.”

“Reg, I hate to admit it, but the only person who cares as much about his hair as your brother is Edmund.”

Regulus let out a loud, dramatic sigh.

“I hate that he was right,” he muttered, almost inaudibly, though Evan still heard him.

“Who was?”

“Fucking Avery,” Regulus spat, and Evan arched a brow, urging him to elaborate. “He made some uncouth remark about the length of my hair. Unfortunately, his observation was correct.”

“Is that why you’ve had a stick up your ass all day? Because Edmund ‘mama’s boy’ Avery didn’t like your hair?”

Regulus buried his face in his hands and nodded. While Evan seemed thoroughly amused by this reaction, Regulus was clearly frustrated with himself.

“I honestly cannot understand why you keep caring about what he thinks.”

“I don’t,” Regulus replied dryly, though not convincingly.

“Go fix your hair, Reg.”

Finding Edmund wasn’t difficult. Regulus knew exactly where he’d be—sitting on the same sofa, in what seemed to have been his designated cushion since their first year, reading whatever pretentious author he had in rotation.

Regulus walked directly toward him, feeling ridiculous. He knew Edmund would tell him to piss off. It was a waste of time to even attempt to—

“I’ll do it.”

Regulus’ spiraling thoughts were abruptly interrupted. He hadn’t even realized he was already standing in front of Edmund until the boy spoke directly to him—or rather, at him.

“You don’t even know what I was about to say.”

“Don’t insult me, baby Black. There’s only one reason you’d march up here, lost in thought, and head in my direction—to request my assistance in fixing your precarious hairstyle.”

“Calling it precarious when it simply needs maintenance—”

“Don’t interrupt me, or I won’t help you.”

Regulus couldn’t believe the sheer lack of basic politeness Edmund displayed. “Fine.”

“I thought a Black would have better manners.”

Regulus scoffed and bowed mockingly. “My most sincere gratitude, Mr. Avery Jr.”

Surprisingly, he caught the faintest curve forming at the edge of Edmund’s lips.

He followed Edmund to his dormitory, which looked exactly as he had imagined (not that he often thought about Edmund’s room). It was meticulously organized, adorned with a few decor pieces that were undoubtedly family heirlooms, and featured a chair whose worn cushion betrayed frequent use.

“Sit on the edge of the bed while I gather my supplies,” Edmund instructed.

Regulus complied. What unsettled him wasn’t sitting on the bed where Edmund slept, but the unexpected ease he felt in that space.

When Edmund returned, he carried a leather roll-up tool bag, which he laid neatly on the table beside him. Regulus watched attentively as Edmund carefully examined the contents. He found himself holding his breath—not consciously, but because Edmund’s precision was oddly calming.

“You are not to mock me, baby Black,” Edmund warned.

“I wasn’t going to,” Regulus replied, his tone genuinely earnest.

For the first time since they’d entered the dorm, Edmund looked at him directly. His eyes seemed to search Regulus’ face for any trace of hidden amusement his tone might have concealed. But Regulus’ sincerity held steady. Edmund’s gaze softened, just briefly, before he turned back to his tools and selected a pair of scissors.

Edmund pulled the chair next to his bed and sat directly in front of Regulus. Regulus’ breath hitched when their knees brushed—had they ever been this close before? And had Edmund always smelled this good?

He felt a wave of dizziness as Edmund’s thumb gently tilted his chin, holding his face in place while his other hand moved through his curls. Regulus glanced at him in panic, but it quickly became clear that Edmund was unaffected by the closeness. His focus was entirely on Regulus’ hair, his expression calm and meticulous.

“I promise I’ll be quick,” Edmund said softly.

Regulus swallowed hard, an uncomfortable feeling bubbling inside him as he realized he didn’t want this proximity to end.

“It’s okay,” Regulus managed to say.

Edmund had been right—it was quick, but it wasn’t rushed. Regulus watched in quiet awe as Edmund worked with care, his movements deliberate and precise, almost reverent.

“Can you look up for a moment?” Edmund asked, tilting Regulus’ face upward. Then, without warning, he blew softly against Regulus’ lips.

Has it been this hot the entire time? Regulus thought, his pulse quickening.

“All done.”

Edmund’s hands  lingered on Regulus’ face but he was no longer looking at his hair, his gaze was fixed Regulus’ lips. He slowly lowered his hand but Regulus was already reaching for his wrist, pleading for Edmund to not deprive him from his touch. 

For a boy whose words were always sharp, his touch was disarmingly soft—gentler than anything Regulus had ever known. For a moment, Regulus was filled with courage, still holding Edmund’s wrist he lifted it slightly and pressed a kiss against the thumb that had rested his chin just moments ago. 

Edmund softly moved his hand to cup Regulus’ face, first brushing his lips, and tracing a path towards his cheeks. When Regulus’ newfound bravery faltered, it was Edmund who closed the distance.

His lips were tender, curious, pressing against Regulus asking him to kiss him back. And so he did, Regulus’ hands reached Edmund's waist and pulled him closer, wanting to taste more, to feel more, more, more, more. 

Edmund drew back slightly, but Regulus’ greedy mouth wouldn’t let him. For now, nothing else mattered—not their parents, not their friends, not whatever waited outside those walls. Edmund’s hand dropped from Regulus’ face and tangled into his hair, tugging gently.

Regulus chuckled, “You just fixed it.”

“I don’t care,” Edmund blurted before kissing him again.

[skelleste]

2024 Art Summary

A selection of art from the past year. You can find a little about each image below.

Happy New Year (Again!)

Just like last time, it's time for another self-indulgent end-of-year post. A lot of things happened and unfortunately I don't feel that I made as much art as I did last year. I got bombarded with people asking me for art trades when I opened them last winter and I still haven't done most of them. I'm used to only a few randos that I mostly turn down requesting them, but having a bunch of friends ask all at once was a bit unexpected. If you're still waiting, I haven't forgotten and will make it eventually. Unfortunately I have the "I shouldn't draw for myself until I do my owed art" mentality most of the time and it just results in doing absolutely nothing because, quite frankly, I often don't want to draw other characters more than I want to draw my own. I'm going to have to be extremely selective about art trades going forward. I also moved this year for the first time ever, and that threw a big wrench in the works. The reason I moved so soon was because my insane sister was moving back in. She threatened to poop in my brother's bed (she's 22) and threatened both of us with violence and my parents were like "yeah that's fine". So uh, yeah, goodbye to living that sweet, sweet, chimpanzee lifestyle. All of that aside, I still made plenty of things, and I'll talk about a few of them here.

January

Some of the last comic panels I worked on before the art trade fiasco put working on the comic to a halt for almost a whole year. These are sketches, but the whole page is done now, of course. This was probably the most time-consuming panel so far, as I had to draw an indoor scene with 9 characters (technically 10 if you count Scott twice). I'm not sure if any of the panels that I have yet to work on will surpass this one in amount of time needed. There's a reason I made this one of the first scenes on the laundry list.

February

The first art trade. I had the pleasure of drawing Mumbo, Jumbo, Balder, and Dash for Chalkrub. I don't feel too great about the background, with its wonky perspective and odd colors, but everyone seems to like how it turned out anyway. It's my third most popular piece of art on this whole site as of writing this.

March

I made this for no reason other than I wanted to draw something edgy for edgy's sake. It had been a while since I made any art of this nature, and Ferdinand is my go to OC for it. My taste in art is not the same as what I draw. I make what I do because it's more about the enjoyment of the process than the aesthetic appeal of the final piece. When I focus on personal aesthetic appeal, I end up not drawing for 9 months at a time because I hate injuring my hand on inking all the time. So if you're some edgy artist and ever wondered why the fuck a cartoon shitposter extraordinaire follows you, there you go.

April

Another art trade, this time for 888goober888 on DeviantArt. A perfect example of a classic case of the eternal false promise "yeah I'll just finish this detail and then be done." And then there's 3,000 brushstrokes worth of individual grass blades. Tee hee.

May

This was a painting I started, and then put down because it was awful to work on, and then I picked it back up weeks later and finished it. The miseries I suffer for not trusting the process. It was a backburner project for a backburner project, which is the website. This painting is now the homepage background, ready to greet all visitors to my nonsense.

June

Commission for Porcumoose. I get the standard array of OC types in my commissions, because every client wants something different from the last. This time I felt very fortunate to draw something I personally like, and I this was my favorite commission from the whole year. This is my way of saying to the public at large "Please pay me to draw more spooky shit please please please".

July

Art Fight month again. I was planning on attempting longest chain with a friend, but he fell ill and we cancelled that plan. I decided to do a slow art year instead, which means fewer attacks with higher quality. My personal favorite from fighting for Team Stardust was this attack, Osireon (a fanmade eeveelution) for Sqveel. Thank you to everyone who attacked me! I always appreciate every single one. Next year is the big 10 year, and I plan on making it special.

August

August always begins with a week-long break from art for me, simply to rest after Art Fight. I also had a week-long vacation shortly thereafter, so half of my month was already spoken for. I had also started the process of moving and lost even more time to that. I can't recall exactly what all I made during then because it was very little, but one of them was certainly catgirl Maudlin. Here she is in all her glory.

September

This is when I moved, and I did not have access to the internet on my computer for a little while. I also spent much of my available drawing time working on a commission, so this was another month where I made very little for myself and cannot recall what little there was. Scatterbrain pineapple is going to teach you French while I jog my memory with blunt force and drywall.

October

Alright, now we're talking. On a whim I decided to participate in Goretober, because I couldn't stop thinking of stupid slapstick ideas and I thought someone scrolling through the tag and seeing this stupid shit randomly in the mix was funny. I was correct. I have one last prompt that I'll get to when I get to it, but aside from that one, this was my favorite drawing from the season. I think I've raised the bar on my own cursed content.

November

After Goretober, I took a break from regular drawing and leaned in favor of website progress. I made a handful of long-needed art assets, animated a custom cursor, created directories for future comic releases, and more. There is still much more to do, but a lot of the necessary code is sorted out.

December

Fuck those art trades (respectfully). I'll do them when I do them. I started working on the comic again for the first time since last February and I've already got a few more pages done. I don't really publicly talk about the comic very much, and yet I'll have random people take interest in the characters, the site, the prospect of a comic coming into existence, etc. and so I should really get on that. As much as the trades have been delayed, this is a project that was started much earlier and honestly could've been done by now if I didn't have to live for so long with people who are blasé about abusing each other. It needs to be completed.

These are just a small selection of my artworks throughout the past year. If you would like to see more, then you can peruse the blog. It's been my goal to get the comic done for the last two years, and we're going on year 3 now. Same old, same old. You'll see more art from me soon. I hope your new year is fruitful and full of peace. See you in 2025.

2023 || 2022

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Is unexplained stomach/digestive issues common for autistic people? Someone may have asked this before, but I just feel really alone, and no doctors or tests seem to explain what's going on.

Hi there,

Unfortunately, autistics are more prone to GI problems. I have issues with it too. I have to take Gas X to help. It really sucks. According to one article:

Yes, children with autism spectrum disorder (ASD) tend to have more medical issues, including gastrointestinal (GI) symptoms such as abdominal pain, constipation and diarrhea, compared with their peers.

At the same time, many children with ASD eat only a few foods (selective eating), prefer highly processed foods, and eat fewer fruits, vegetables and whole grains.

I hope this helps answer your question. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

[doubleddenden]

Onto gen 7- an underrated cast of characters and gen imo. I feel like people just hate on this because of lack of gyms and more text- even though the island challenge is the best breath of fresh air we've had in years. The story is really good and the characters have so much depth- they walked so the SV cast could run and the SwSh cast could trip, cry, and pee a little

Let's start with Elio, our boy for Sun and Moon. Vanilla wise he is about as generic as you can get, looking pretty much any little boy on vacation, minus the pants- I have literally never seen pants like that in my life. They look like they'd fall down a lot. He's so generic, but thankfully there's a pretty decent character customization option- a little less than xy in some regards, but you CAN remove the hat, so that's a plus.

The sun and moon/ultra protags are confirmed to look about 11- I've seen some funny people get creative with Wicke and say "actually miss I'm in college," which is pretty fitting for the time period of release for the majority of players. This a simple callback to RBY, but I will say it's kinda sad that they took that little ambiguity away and makes it a bit harder to project yourself onto the character. Not impossible, mind you, but you gotta try a little harder vs XY or BW, especially with regular Elio here. 6/10, barely tries.

Meanwhile, his Ultra variant gets a massive improvement all around. You're still said to be around 11, but the right art can make him seem older

Like this INCREDIBLE piece done to show off Ultra Megalopolis. Elio looks anywhere between early to late teens here.

But enough about that- the in game customization doesn't see too many additions, but enough to be different. Vanilla wise, Elio looks so much more unique and fun to play as on his own. The pants and tights definitely look a bit like Nate's (and also are one of a kind last i remember, unfortunately), but Nate is a terrible design, so it's fine. The bucket hat i didn't initially get, but now that I'm older and losing hair, I've been wearing one myself, and I think it is pretty neat now. This actually looks a bit how I'd dress in the summer, and I think that's pretty great all around. 9/10 design, massive improvement on vanilla

Chicken-Chan, or Selene as people call her these days- which I think is bad right after Serena- is a hit or miss depending on your audience. I'll say, minus the hat, this design is similar to Hilda in that this is an outfit I've seen women wear often in the summer around where I grew up. The baggy shirt is really comfy looking, covers a lot while allowing a nice breeze to keep you cool. The bag- as it turns out- is supposed to be a watermelon slice, changed to avoid racial stereotyping when selected as someone with darker skin. That's kind of sad, I mean I get why, but it would have been a fun thing to have in an ideal world. As it is, it's fine. The colors definitely feel more inspired compared to Elio, very tropical and summery, looking even more like a tourist on vacation.

The design definitely reads as younger than the last few FemCs, and this is sort of the point where Game Freak really starts making the girls especially look younger and younger each gen (except Akari of course). That's not necessarily bad on its own and for those not online or aware of the skeevier side of the internet, just leads to some unfortunate "art" that gets shown everywhere that maybe wouldn't have been nearly as creepy if they left them as ambiguously aged blank slates like usual.

Weird rant aside, I think Selene is a fine enough design, and in my Moon playthrough, I had plenty of outfits to choose from- definitely more of a defined binary compared to XY, imo, but still plenty to work with. 8/10, cute, but I hate the hat

Selene's ultra variant imo is just another improvement, ditching that awful chicken hat and taking a nice sun hat instead. This is definitely something I can see worn on vacation, and the colors of a mostly orange and white just look so good- makes me think of a refreshing glass of fruit juice. The braids are also really cute, and the sandals are more or less what I think Shauna should've had instead. It's such peak tourist, I love it. 9/10, cutie, love the hat

Of course, we got Hau now, the first standalone friendly "chooses the weaker starter" rival that kind of... becomes another pattern. Actually, a lot of Gen 7 becomes a pattern for future games, including hoodlum teams with a white collar real bad guy using science for their own selfish goals, bigger pokemon than average, angrier pokemon than average, the rivals having a chip on their shoulder or being in someone's shadow, etc etc etc. That's another rant on its own.

Hau is fine, not really my favorite rival, but I do think he tries harder than people give him credit for. In SM, I especially like that he kind of has an unrequited crush on Lillie, and that drove him to be a little braver and do a couple of bigger things beyond his pay grade- it's weirdly relatable, especially the heartbreak when she leaves. Otherwise he's a chill dude, kind of unrealistic in how happy he always is, but honestly he's a peak buddy I could see myself being friends with as a kid. He's strong- maybe not scary like Blue or Silver, but you do need to actually lock in for a few fights if you aren't overleveled. Not my favorite rival, like 7 on that front, but as a friend? That's an 8.

As a design, I think it's a good one. Definitely not threatening, super safe and chill looking, even when serious. I guess that's why some people dislike him as a rival, along with his pretty laid-back and cheery personality, but as a buddy, he looks pretty zen. I'd definitely wear his fit, it's so comfy looking and perfect for the summer, minus the not-crocs. I think I'd just make those black or brown sandals instead. Colors are a nice and warm tropical feel, definitely someone who enjoys the sunlight and radiates joy like it, too. The hair, I think, should just be black, but that's not really a crime to have green hair that dark- in fact it's so minor, I forget often that it's that color. Idk man, I don't get the hate. 9/10 buddy design- as a rival, sure, maybe that's a 6 on design, but a 9 on design alone. I'd definitely want a rival that looks like they would stab me, though.

HEY, a rival that looks like he could stab me! Gladion is a very complex and edgy looking character at first glance... and second when he starts doing chuuni shit mid battle... and third when he tells you to get out of his hotel room and fourth when- you get it. But, underneath all of that, he's a guy that clearly wants to do good- he looks like he'd stab you, but a lot of the Pokemon he has on his team- both in game and anime- rely on friendship to evolve. Lucario, Crobat, especially his Silvally. You could even argue his Porygon Z is a mark of his character- not super integral to his team until the title bout, but it is the only pokemon that needs to be traded TWICE to evolve, which alone says that he's a trusting and trustworthy individual. To top it off, in the Ultra games, he even gets a (ugh) Kanto starter, which would imply that Prof Oak maybe met him and gave him one, and we know Oak is a decent judge of character.

The complexity doesn't stop there- he's mean and intimidating as a defense mechanism, out of necessity after stealing Type: Null from horrific experiments and running away from the Aether Foundation. In fact, the anime, Masters, and Ultra games really do their damn best to try and make you forget that Gladion and his sister are survivors of child abuse. Gladion especially struggles a bit with the thought that he abandoned his little sister. He knows his mother is crazy and dangerous, and yet he goes in guns blazing to rescue Nebby abd Lillie, and also is more than willing to lead the Aether Foundation in Lusamine's absence. He doesn't smile often, but it feels like a reward, knowing all the pain he's gone through for the sake of something bigger than himself.

His design even exemplifies that- the tears in his clothes are supposedly from Type: Null going out of controll and attacking him once, which he's clearly developed some sewinh skills to make look part of the vibe, as if on purpose to push others away and make people worry less about him. As a character and design, I'd give it a 9/10.

As a rival, I feel like we battle just enough to get there right at the end, but I will say that I think he should have appeared and battled more often. 7/10 on that front, because he's less of a rival and more like someone testing us constantly- which being fair, I see why.

I know what you're thinking. "Lillie isn't a rival! What's she doing here?" Well, I think any fan of gen 7 will tell you that she is just as integral to the story as you are, and thus I'd say that makes her a secondary Main Character alongside you. Plus, it'd feel weird not to include her, she's the fries to the bacon cheeseburger of the rest of the cast, and arguably the soul of the story.

Her character arc is definitely more impressive in SM than Ultra- a fellow survivor of abuse that actually wears a symbol of it: her first outfit is heavily based on Nihilego, who we know Lusamine has a very unhealthy obsession with. She's less like a little girl and more like a doll made to dress a part she didn't want. Still, her bravery is off the charts- stealing Nebby without a single other Pokemon to help her is very, very brave, especially considering she was in the heart of enemy territory.

It isn't really until she's brave enough to stand up to her own mother that she finally decides to try something new. "Z POWER" Lilly looks so much more confident and sure of herself. She's still in white with hues of baby blue, but that's her choice, and sort of paints her as a protagonist that's a blank canvas- her future finally being her own to decide. She has no Pokemon (other than Nebby and later a Clefairy), but she's still brave enough to jump into ultra space to try and rescue her mother AND tell her off. She didn't have to forgive her for anything, but she does acknowledge that her mother was under the poisonous influences of Nihilego and opts to travel and find a way to save her. Her decision to go to (ugh) Kanto on her own is such a massive step for her, and her maturity to leave Nebby in our care is something that actually made me cry the first go around.

...then ultra sm kinda... undid a lot of that, lol. Lusamine isn't regretful for a single thing she did, but gets to continue like nothing happened. It makes some sense as to why Lillie decides to just keep living with Kukui lol.

Anyways, her design is part of her story, and her story is very deep and engaging. 9/10.

Next up... oh God it's Galar again

[birdsofthefictionalworld]

The Canary Problem

The Untamed(陈情令/Chén Qíng Lìng)(2019) is a mainland chinese xianxia drama, based on the popular danmei novel 魔道祖师/Mó Dào Zǔ Shī. The series isn't exactly peak birdwatching, but it has a select few appearances of Weird Birds.

The main problem I will be tackling here is the presence of a small, but incredibly confusing, problem: a wild Canary.

In the fourth episode of this show, a character—Nie Huaisang— smuggles a songbird into class.

He claims to have captured the bird from the wild on his journey from his home(Qinghe) to the current location(Gusu). This problem is that the bird he has in this scene is a domestic variant of the wild Atlantic Canary, Serinus canaria. This species is native to the Canary Islands, off the coast of northern Africa, and to make things worse, this particular individual has a color pattern known as Red Factor, which was created from humans intentionally hybridizing domesticated Atlantic Canaries Serinus canaria forma domestica with south american Venezuelan Red Siskin (Spinus cucullatus). This is essentially like he was wandering around in the woods of northeastern china and found a purebred Chihuahua.

But the actual species of the bird is not necessarily the only important factor in fiction. The species the birdy actor is intended to be portraying also comes into play. While the official english subtitles do refer to the bird as a canary, the words actually used in chinese are 金雀/jīn què, directly translating to gold bird. This name is colliqual, not scientific, and can therefore be referring to multiple different bird species of similar appearance. I am led to believe that the species intended to be portrayed here is, in fact, the Eurasian Siskin, Spinus spinus. If this is the case, a canary is a fine choice for casting, as wild type Domestic Canaries and Eurasian Siskins are quite similar in appearance.

Additionally, a Eurasian Siskin is a very realistic species to be found in between the real life northeastern china.

Unfortunately, by casting a clearly domestic red-factor, the similarity is lost.

I do believe Eurasian Siskins remain an ideal candidate for the intended species, if not aesthetically, then thematically. For you see, while Eurasian Siskins are sometimes referred to as jīn què, they are more commonly known as 黄雀/huáng què.

The word huáng què is used in the classic chinese idiom “螳螂捕蝉黄雀在后了/tángláng bǔ chán huáng què zài hòule” which is often translated to “the mantis stalks the cicada, but the oriole is behind”. This alludes to an individual that is so focused following their goal, they fall prey to others. In the context of this story, and the placement of the canary there appear to be two major options.

Warning: Its major plot spoiler time

In the early series, Nie Huaisang is characterized as an unserious and rather careless young man, but at the end of the it is revealed that he has spent many years(during a plot-relevant time-skip), engineering the downfall of one of the series’ major antagonists, Jin Guangyao.

The most straightforward option, is that Nie Huaisang is holding the bird as a representation of himself, being the “huáng què” to Jin Guangyao’s “mantis” in the eventual reveal, but i think there could be more to it.

Huaisang refers to the bird specifically as a jīn què, not a huáng què. While this may be intended to distance the bird from the idiom, in order to make the foreshadowing more obscure, it does not seem coincidental that the jīn in jīn què uses the same character as Jin Guangyao(and the entire Jin sect, but regardless-).

So i propose that the bird is more specific foreshadowing, meant to represent Jin Guangyao, the huáng què who, while stalking a prey intent on another, did not look behind himself for the greater predator, a man.

Nie Huaisang, specifically was said to have stalked the bird for several days before capture, a far cry from the rest of his characterization at this point in the series. It could be simply intended as a demonstration of his tenacity when given the appropriate motivation, but it becomes a far more pointed commentary if it was intended to mirror his quiet hunt for Jin Guangyao in the later series.

A lot of symbolism for a bird with 3 seconds of screen-time, or not, it could be simply flawed bird casting. Please don’t get me started on the chicken.

Thank you for reading!! If anyone has any good medias for me to look at birds in, send me an ask! I would love to hear about them!

I will be posting all my bird metas under the tag #meta as well as #bfw(my general works tag).

[incorrect-fnaf-quotes]

Rabbit Restoration Project: |9|

After Springtrap left you alone, you had been hoping that dealing with the drawers wouldn't take that all that long--at best, just a single hour.

Unfortunately, that was far from the truth.

Going through your home, you made the discovery that, except for a few select rooms--such as The Restoration Room, and its connected bedroom--the rabbit had made a mess everywhere.

Doors were all swung open--which already gave you the biggest hint as to what happened, before you even checked--you'd always kept the rooms closed up when they weren't in use.

It had still been around two when shoving your neighbor out, and when you had given Springtrap the little deal. I should make sure with him...

Now, though?

After speedwalking through the house, checking through every room--cleaning up the contents all over the floor, and hastily attempting to stuff each of the collapsed drawers back into their original locations...

...Before returning to The Restoration Room, trying to see if there was anything that you missed in there, before attempting to fix the doors hinges, and debating on simply sticking something over the hole...

Maybe if I got two mirrors, and placed them over the issue, I'd just forget about it at some point. Your first thought had been. You didn't hate it.

...Collapsing onto the couch after having additionally making something to eat, you sluggishly pulled your phone out and just dropped it onto the cushion.

A finger tapped against it, and the screen came to life--a little too bright for your liking in the moment--but you didn't feel like trying to adjust it.

Up on the right corner of it, it revealed that there was 45% of battery life left--but that's not what you cared about. What you did care about were the larger numbers on the screen, instead.

8:47PM. You groaned, raising up momentarily, onto plop onto the couch again--this time, just on your back. I really spent that long...?

A hand raised and was placed firmly in the middle of your face. I haven't even managed to do all that much today... Rather than your face remaining neutral, it began to frown.

That morning, without having been able to sleep at all, you'd busied yourself with editing a newer video of yours--something considerably easier than the rabbit that you had restored.

After all, when you'd come across that item, and brought it home... it didn't exactly grow legs and walk away and then make a horrible mess of your home. The object certainly had manners.

Morning drives had always been a decent enough occurrence--but they usually happened so early in the day, that almost nothing ever seemed to happen.

Everyone was still so sleepy--and there had only been a handful of times where you'd see or hear much of anything--others driving, or going out for a walk--with or without an animal.

And while there were certainly moments where you had managed to see something on the sidewalk, it had never been anything so major--usually just trash.

You doubted that old animatronics were left out near the street often--if they were, and they were just like Springtrap, well...

Wait. Your eyes grew wide, and as quickly as possible--accidentally causing yourself to feel dizzy in the process--you got up from the couch. Springtrap. He's been alone for a few hours.

When going through and trying to fix everything, you hadn't really seen the rabbit all that much--except for a few brief glimpses here and there. He didn't seem to be doing much...

That had been hours ago, though. Whatever he's doing now, I don't hear anything. You snatched up your phone--which had gone down to 39%. Maybe he doesn't want me to hear anything. Or maybe he's just...

Feet moving forwards, you rubbed at your forehead. I don't know... I just hope he isn't making everything go back to square one. I don't want to stay up until five in the morning.

You doubted that fixing everything he'd messed up would have taken that long earlier--when going through everything--if you hadn't kept stopping for frequent, decently sized breaks.

There had been enough moments where you considered stopping for the day, and just going to lay down--way too many times to count on either hand... but you wanted to get it all done.

It also didn't help that you couldn't help but find yourself getting distracted with some of the drawers items. Some of which were things that you had nearly forgotten about completely.

The ones that you had thought were the most interesting, you'd dropped them off into your room--figuring that would be the best place for them, without forgetting again.

You yawned.

The arm... wait. It's still back there. A huff. I did want to move it... maybe I could go and bring it to him to keep him calm enough.

Focusing your walk on returning to The Restoration Room, you silently debated on where you would find the rabbit after. What if he went out into the back or front yard? What would someone say?

Although, as the room came into view, it's entry wide open, it looks like you didn't have to stress about where else the rabbit could be within your home.

Standing beside the desk, with a grip on the arm, but not exactly holding it--it seemed more like he was finally keeping it from falling--was Springtrap.

He seemed to be staring at all of the equipment in the room. Did he not see any of it when I brought him in earlier? Your pace quickened, and his ears twitched.

Just a second later, his head lifted, meeting your gaze--but not for very long, as your eyes fell to the floor. Why is he staring like that...

"You've finished." Springtrap stated.

"Yep..." Murmuring, you stepped foot into The Recreation Room, lifting your eyes up--staring at him--but not into his eyes again. It's not like he can turn someone to stone...

You cleared your throat. It wasn't the first thing that you wanted to ask, really--but so much was continuing to repeatedly kick the door down. "Hey. About when you broke open the door... what was-"

Not allowing the question to be finished, Springtrap interrupted you for yet another time that day. "Move."

"What?" You blinked, frowning. Although, your legs--as if they couldn't resist the word--were beginning to slowly move backwards.

He grunted and held out his hand. It was a gesture from the rabbit that you assumed had to mean stop. And a second or two later, your legs listened.

"Move along." While he almost seemed to sound to be on edge, there was a tiny sliver left to suggest that he was still enjoying your reactions. "If you plan on questioning me..."

He doesn't want to talk about it. Why? You yawned again. I don't want to risk anything happening...

"Um..." It took a few moments for another thought--another question--to make itself far better known, pushing the previous one out of the way. You hummed.

"Why were you just on the sidewalk earlier?" You pressed yourself against the wall, taking a moment to relax against the rather cold surface. "I'm... guessing you came from someplace else."

"Fazbear's Fright." Springtrap answered much more easily, his eyes seeming to briefly roll at the name. "A horrid excuse for a 'haunted house'."

"Fazbear's... Fright?" You repeated slowly, confusion seeping through your voice--enough to certainly be noticed by the old rabbit.

"Mm."

"Was that really far from here? You must have walked pretty far." No wonder he was just collapsed, then. Even if these things aren't supposed to get exhausted...

"No." The rabbit rasped. "It was here. I don't believe it was far."

"In this town??" You stopped leaning against the wall.

"Of course." Springtrap spat. "Where else would I be talking about? It was built here. I've been here." He took a few steps forward.

"Okay, okay, I get it!" You waved your hands a little frantically, and the rabbit stopped advancing, a scoff escaping from him.

"I just... I guess I wasn't paying all that much attention to recent things."

"Obviously."

"So..." You shifted around on one side.

"It burned down." Springtrap added. He didn't sound upset any longer--but he did sound rather exhausted. "I escaped as it did. It damaged my arm well enough, however."

"Is... that why it came off so suddenly when I hit you earlier?" You slowly asked.

"Partially, I suppose." Springtrap wheezed.

Nearly a minute went by, and neither of you were saying anything--allowing the silence to begin stretching a rather decent amount--straining at the same time.

It was as if the both of you were waiting for the other to say something. Although, you had noticed how... difficult it sounded when the rabbit spoke. Maybe he doesn't feel like it any longer...

You sighed. "What... What exactly is "Fazbear's" supposed to mean? What's it supposed to be?"

The rabbit's eyes seemed to widen farther than they should be capable of. "You have never heard of it? Of Freddy's?" He sounded displeased.

Even though Springtrap didn't necessarily sound angry, you still found yourself raising your hands up defensively. "Sorry... no. But I'm... I'm guessing it had something to do with animatronics...?"

Springtrap stared.

"...You know, if this haunted house had the name, and... brought you into its walls." You awkwardly added.

He kept staring, still looking rather displeased about something.

"Actually, I have another question." You held in the new yawn that was trying to squirm out. "They... they did have to go and bring you to this haunted house, right? You weren't just... already there?"

A nod.

"So, where were you originally when they-"

You huffed as Springtrap, for an amount that you weren't keeping track, interrupted you yet again. "My turn." He moved away from the desk.

"But I..." You trailed off as you spotted the look in the rabbit's eyes that he was giving you--it made you feel a bit chilly. He doesn't want to talk about that either... what happened?

"No more questions like that." He lowly hissed, before gesturing towards the desk in the room, among all of the other items.

When Springtrap spoke again--just a few seconds later--he sounded more relaxed. "What exactly is all of this? Earlier today, you mentioned fixing me."

You smiled, and cautiously moved a little closer, ignoring the two yawns that escaped from your lips. Springtrap simply stared, ears twitching.

"Well... I could show you?" You offered. "I could go ahead and start working on you." I should have already been doing it that this morning.

An instant later, you were in Springtrap's grasp.

His hand had shot forwards--dipping--and found its place beneath your chin. Once it was there, the rabbit pulled you closer, and you let out a tiny grunt from how quickly it had been done.

Springtrap's eyes remained almost completely still--only briefly gliding down or up--but the movement was so small, you thought you were imagining it.

But what you weren't imagining was what the rabbit seemed to be doing. He's examining me?

There was a hum from the rabbit--seemingly satisfied with his examination, perhaps--or just to let you know that he was finished. A moment later, his hand dropped.

"Go to sleep. You're exhausted." He stated, putting a little more effort into his voice to actually get the words out. Springtrap began moving past you.

You twisted around to watch him go, sighing.

"I don't need the state of this to worsen, just because you're about to start counting sheep."

His shoulder bumped into yours again as the rabbit fully passed through the room's entryway, whispering something else--but it was far too quiet for you to actually hear.

Although you didn't leave the room yourself yet, you stood in the entryway a few seconds after Springtrap made his exit, and watched him carefully.

Fortunately, he didn't disappear around a corner, and start doing whatever he pleased--like opening the drawers all over again.

Instead, you watched as the rabbit made his way over to one of the windows, awkwardly fiddled with the blinds, before staring up at the darkened sky--the full moon making itself known.

It was pretty, at the very least.

@mcfries123 @spaciebabie @ravenmccookies

[wearepaladin]

Greetings, dear paladin. A whole ago (unfortunately I can't seem to find the post) you mentioned something about the white march expansion being a good example of being saved by virtue of a good deed half forgotten. Would you mind expanding on that a bit? I'm a bit of a loss at what exactly you mean (in the game, I mean. The concept is clear), and yet it stuck with me. That, and your thoughts on such things are often quite fascinating. Kind regards, either way, and happy holidays if you celebrate ^^

Sure. So, for the uninitiated, the The White March DLC for Pillars of Eternity is split into two parts, one being released a few months ahead of the other, and I played both as they had been released, not one immeadietly after another. That’s important for the context of what I meant.

In the first part of the DLC, the last major decision is deciding what to do with the White Forge, a legendary forge that used animancy, the harnessing of souls, in their construction of items. The souls of the dwarves who made the place were still present, but were split three ways on what to do with their souls now that we had control of the forge, one wanting to guard it, one wanting to be made part of the forge, and the third wanting to move on to the next part of the wheel, the cycle of life and death. I released them, and received no award beyond the knowing that their souls were free.

Fast forward to the end of the second half of the dlc. You’ve discovered who killed all the dwarves and realize that they’re a threat to the world over if allowed to mindlessly destroy those who practice animancy in the world. You have a tool, the hammer of Abydon, the god who created these creatures, and can use it to bring them all in one place, a hidden glacier prison, then force them to destroy themselves. Problem is, whoever has the hammer and does this can’t flee and thus odds are poor they can survive.

I had my character decide they would make the sacrifice, and had all the other pc’s run to the escape. The game pulls no punches on the scale of what you’re doing, and the odds of survival being nil. Still, you go on, striking a gods hammer again and again, knowing death lies at the destruction you are formenting.

And it does. The glacier collapses, and ice and stone come falling along with freezing water, elements alone that should have killed you and buried you for eternity.

Except. The souls of the dwarves you saved, taking new lives in aquatic creatures native to the area, pull you to the surface. In reality, it has been months since that choice was made, and there are no immediate ramifications of that choice throughout the story until this point.

Pillars of Eternity isn’t shy about permakilling people in their story sequences, so I fully expected an alternate ending where my character died, especially since the game gives you the choice of selecting others for the choice. So the souls of the White Forge Dwarves returning to help me in my time of greatest need when I really thought my Watcher had bitten it, only for a half forgotten act of kindness to be rewarded. It was a beautiful feeling.

[ask-a-vetblr]

Hi I’m starting a book set in Australia (I’m an Aussie!) and it’s about Rabies getting loose in Australia but going to be like a sci/fi and horror novel. I thought I’d ask actual vets if you knew what could happen if rabies got loose in Australia?

gettingvetted here.

Our founder and native Aussie, drferox, is on hiatus, so I will give this a go.

Unfortunately for your book, rabies is one of the easiest diseases to control and eradicate, especially on a small scale and especially if you know the animal of origin. Vaccinations literally have to be upwards of 95% effective (at least in the US) in order to become licensed for use, and the immunity derived from rabies vaccines is long lasting at 1-3 years at minimum; it probably lasts longer but official studies to license vaccines for that long have not been done due to expense. Likewise, the vaccines are usually inexpensive compared to other vaccines like Lyme, as you can vaccinate a cat or dog for 3 years for roughly $25 per vaccine. You typically have plenty of time (weeks to months) after a possible exposure to determine if the biting animal is rabid, and even if you never find that out, rabies vaccination will prevent rabies in an exposed individual as long as they themselves are not showing symptoms (aka, there's a handful of known rabies positive animals in the country and you/your dog just got bitten by a kangaroo? get vaccinated, you're going to be fine even if they can't find the kangaroo again). The symptoms are pretty obvious and pretty classic, making the animal easily identifiable even among its peers, and once the stage of being symptomatic has arrived and thus transmission is possible, the animal will die in a handful of days, thus self-limiting the spread. The only "treatment" is humane euthanasia and as wildlife are the usual reservoir of the virus, there isn't much of an uproar when a select few are euthanized for testing or prevention each year. An interesting factoid is that while the US still has rabies, we *only* have wildlife strains present (not canine rabies). So even if a dog gets rabies from another dog, they will still have acquired skunk, bat, or raccoon strains of rabies. This is due to years of regulating that cats, dogs, and ferrets (domesticated carnivores) be vaccinated for rabies and euthanized for biting if unvaccinated until the canine strain was eradicated. Canine rabies is still an issue in countries with lots of feral dogs.

As a vet in the US, it is a MAJOR headache to ship animals from rabies-endemic areas to non-rabies-endemic areas. Even Hawaii is extremely difficult to pull off. Not only do they have to be vaccinated early (usually within 6 months of travel), they also often have to have rabies titers performed within the same time frame or sometimes even closer to the travel date. An extended quarantine period (I seem to recall that it is 6 months in some cases?) is also required prior to entry for countries such as Australia so that even if the rabies vaccination and titers were incorrect or forged and the animal has rabies, they would still show symptoms prior to entry into the country. Also, while unrelated to rabies, Australia requires veterinarians (not animal owners) to personally administer very specific parasite prevention to animals at very specific intervals to prevent certain parasites from entering the country too, so the amount of prep work required for export itself is often long enough such that if the animal had rabies, you would find out before they left the country. The regulations also differ depending on country of origin - countries with less control over their rabies status are either banned from importing animals or face even stricter import regulations. If any of these steps are performed incorrectly or without pristine official evidence of doing so, the animal gets right back on the plane and goes back to its country of origin, or is held in official government quarantine at customs. So it would be quite difficult to get a rabid animal into the country. Humans are a different story of course, so that may be the best way to bring rabies into Australia in your story. However, humans getting rabies is extremely rare, and considering the excellent healthcare in AUS, a human would probably seek care and be diagnosed before they could become insane enough to start biting wildlife (again, the only real scenario I could think of that could feasibly bring rabies to AUS, because if a rabies positive human bit another human or even a dog, you simply vaccinate that human or dog for rabies and they will be fine).

So, let's assume that you got rabies into the country and a handful of wild animals of various species are exposed. We'll even assume that it was a dog that somehow brought it in despite all the red tape designed to make it impossible, and that dog is ownerless or escaped so there is nobody to tell officials what type or how many animals it bit before it died of its symptoms. It would probably take a significant amount of time for anyone to figure out what was going on. Vets who are educated in countries that have endemic rabies are taught that any animal with any neurologic symptoms should be treated as if they have rabies unless they recover. I.e., if a neurologic animal dies without a definitive diagnosis of some other neurologic disease (such as EPM, distemper, etc) and especially if that animal is unvaccinated for rabies, you MUST assume they had rabies and send them for postmortem testing so that any human or animal who was exposed to the potentially rabid animal can be vaccinated if necessary. However, vets who are educated in non-endemic countries are of course aware of the disease, but probably wouldn't have it on their radar for a neurologic animal. It would probably take a few wildlife or pet animal cases being sent for necropsy and testing after sudden neurologic death before rabies was diagnosed, which probably wouldn't happen until a few months to a year after the first case arrived in the country, at the earliest. Then a few things would happen.

First, the owners of the pet animals and the organizations dealing with wildlife would be extensively interviewed to determine location and possibly the species of animal that bit the now-dead-and-necropsied rabid animal. These areas would be surveyed extensively and unfortunately a lot of local wildlife mammals would probably be preventively eradicated especially if positive cases were found in a given species. Import/export of ANY animals from the country would be immediately halted and mandatory vaccination of all owned animals in the country would likely be established and enforced. Travel of humans likely wouldn't be stopped, but rabies vaccination would be added to the list of recommended vaccines for travel to AUS, similar to malaria vaccines in endemic countries. Again, the excellent and affordable healthcare system of AUS (at least compared to the US) would probably lead many or most Australians to be vaccinated for rabies prophylactially, which can cost thousands of dollars in the US and is usually not covered by health insurance. There would probably be a huge push for vaccination of wildlife with rabies vaccines dropped from aircraft, which could be done both within the area that suspected exposed or definitively positive animals have been found, as well as a radius around those areas as prevention. Vets would be mandated to report any neurologic or behaviorally abnormal animal even if rabies wasn't the suspected cause, and unfortunately would likely be forced to euthanize many animals that were not rabid. There is a chance that with these measures, rabies could be eradicated, but it wouldn't be certain, probably ever. Longer term, surveillance measures would be taken (and I don't mean surveillance like the FBI, I mean epidemiologic surveillance such as monitoring cases that pop up and physically checking on and sampling the typical populations of wildlife that carry the disease). Regardless, it would be extremely difficult to cause any kind of fatal epidemic using a standard rabies virus. Ounce of prevention/pound of cure and all that, but Australia currently chooses a pound of prevention.

Definitely an interesting concept for a book, but I would go with a carnivore parvovirus or canine distemper virus that mutates quickly enough that it can't be vaccinated for, and is transmissible from animals to humans. Parvovirus, specifically, is extremely hardy in the environment and is far more contagious than rabies. Without effective vaccines, I'm betting that either distemper or parvo would cause more death than the plague, especially among pediatrics. I'm not familiar with hendravirus given that we don't have it in the US, but to my knowledge that is also a horrific and contagious disease that is already present in AUS.

Hope this helps!