#i just feel frustrated with myself bc i feel like i have these small dreams but when they come true i just always want more

[asiananeurysm]

.

[tojifile]

Hey, can I make a request for your event?

Fyodor x fem!reader, except he's madly in love with her but doesn't accept it bc he thinks it's useless :)

@Fyodor Dostoevsky . . . (＾-＾)

Tags: smitten!fyodor, fluff, angst if you squint, gn!reader, domestic Fyodor, kinda ooc, vol 14+ doesn’t exist, yandere themes if you get 400+ graded glasses

A/N: Hello anon !! I’m so sorry this took so long, probably 2-4 months (?) I’ve been so busy with school that I just didn’t have time for requests. I’ll treat my fics like those “mafia!dazai who…” type of posts, if that makes sense. I know it’s a big change from my old writing style but I really hope you would still like it :))

smitten!fyodor who met you while walking around Yokohama. He asked you for directions one day and as faith would have it that was the exact place you were going to as well. Although, he didn’t actually need directions, he just wanted to test his skills in deceit.

“Excuse me miss, pardon me for being a bother. Could you please tell me where the nearest train is?” You softly smiled at the gentleman who had gotten your attention. “Of course, I was just heading there myself, you could just follow me if you’d like.”

smitten!fyodor who was fond of the way you spoke to him in such a polite manner. It was endearing to have someone be so courteous (bare minimum, I know).

smitten!fyodor whose voice you couldn’t forget. Softer than silk yet even the sun itself would revolve around its gravity.

smitten!fyodor who “accidentally” bumps into you from time to time. It’s been going on for several months now and during the first few times you jokingly accused him of stalking you.

“Fyodor-san? This is the fourth time this month, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were stalking me!” You teased. He responded to your joke with a small chuckle.

smitten!fyodor who denies feeling anything for you since he thinks it would hinder his plans for a better world. He constantly tells himself that it’ll pass, but each day he spends with you feels like a dream.

smitten!fyodor who reassures himself that this was all part of his master plan; that you were just another pawn in his epic chess match with Dazai. Surely someone as simple as you couldn’t destroy his plans, right?

smitten!fyodor who tells himself that keeping you happy is all part of his mission to save the world. When he’s overthinking his actions around you he tells himself that he only keeps you happy because a world where you’re sad confuses and frustrates him—oops, wrong thought!

What frustrates him further is the fact that he can no longer tell himself that you’re just a pawn. He never has internal struggles, so how could you do this to him? For years and years he chased his ideals. He tried to attain the unattainable, he never thought something as simple as affection could be that unattainable thing.

smitten!fyodor who saw you on a date with somebody else and he felt like that was God’s way of telling him that he should continue to fulfill his mission rather than chase someone who clearly doesn’t like him back.

Comment 🪩 to be on my taglist !

[rush-the-stars]

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART III

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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.8k || ao3 || <- part ii || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

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✧ SPRING FEVER collab ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader, biting, blood, marking, one slap from the reader to suguru and he sorta likes it, fainting, fainting from lack of food, reader refuses to eat because she doesn't want getou to feed her, getou does not let reader eat unless he feeds them; forced feeding. forced bathing, smut; masturbation, dirty talk, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: happy mother's day to alpha suguru getou <3 this is the third and final part of this lil series for @lorelune 's spring fever collab! pls mind the warnings, i added some! i will be honest this part feels like a fever dream to myself lol...,.not beta read..,.i barely read it back bc im terrified of my own smut JFDKLSK enjoy LMAO but on a real note, thank you to everyone who has reached out and been so kind ab this fic! i hope you enjoy this last part! let me know your thoughts <33

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When Suguru first offers you food from his own hand, you push it away. He cooked it for you and you refuse it, turn your nose up at him and shut your mouth resolutely, feel your lips cage your teeth like a muzzle

“I’ll do it myself.” You tell him firmly. 

But then he holds the food away from you. 

You go nearly a day and a half, feverish and woozy, without eating. 

You do not plan on conceding, but end up fainting not long after. Your body is under too much stress; you need sustenance. You need food and water. 

So he begins to feed you as your lashes flutter and you are too weak to deny him this time. 

It’s easier, when you can hardly keep your eyes open. His hands are impossibly gentle. You feel his fingers against your lips, careful, and loving. 

When you’re feeling better, you glower at him. 

He is rather pleased, though. 

The next time he tries to feed you by hand, you turn and bite his hand, sink your teeth into the meat of it. 

He laughs warmly, fondly. 

“Feel better to get that out of your system?” He asks, when you finally pull away. 

You don’t respond to him.

He grabs your face swiftly then, big hand fitting around your jaw and bearing down. This time, he holds you steady, and brings the slice of orange to your mouth. 

You squirm, but he says, “I will not have you fainting again.” 

“Let me feed myself then.” You manage to get out, but he holds you tighter, presses at your jaw to get it to unhinge. 

The orange pops into your mouth. 

“You’re insufferable.” You say around it, cheek puffed with the fruit. 

Unfortunately, it’s good. Sweet. A little cool. Refreshing. You do want more. 

“This doesn’t have to be so difficult.” He responds evenly, peeling away the next piece of the orange. It looks so small in his hands. 

You swallow the piece in your mouth. 

“You’re right,” you respond stubbornly, “it doesn’t.” You reach for the next piece but he holds it away from you. 

Frustration overcomes you, chokes you like thorny vines strangling out the softer plants around them. Heat hits your face again and you have to wonder if you’ll ever get over it all. If he’ll ever stop making you feel this way.

Tears prick your eyes again. 

You turn your face away from him. He sighs. 

“It isn’t so bad,” he says softly, “if you’d just give in.” 

You sniff. “I could say the same of you.” 

“I’m trying to take care of you,” he says, “and at every turn, you are still trying to refuse it.” 

“I don’t need—”

“But don’t you want it?” He asks gently, hand reaching out slowly, knuckles first, so they skim your cheek. “It’s okay to want.” 

Stubbornly, you remain silent. 

“You’ve been so alone, for so long, my little stray. It’s okay to be taken care of.” He consoles softly, voice just a rumble that warms to your ears. 

“I’ll not think you any less strong, if you let me feed you now.” He promises, “if you let me care for you this week.” 

You don’t know why, but a tear slips down your cheek. There’s a lump in your throat, hard and aching, and threatening your resolve. 

He catches your tear with a thumb. “Poor thing, so torn up.” 

You sniff hard, trying to hold everything in. It’s trembling and tender, though, your heart. The ache in your chest.

You don’t think you’ll win this one—

Your head is foggy and throbbing. You don’t even know what you’re winning or losing. Or what you’re fighting for, when he puts it that way. 

You feel silly for denying him.

Perhaps worse for agreeing.

Finally, in a voice smaller than intended? you ask, “can I have another piece?” 

Suguru studies you for a moment. 

He lifts the curved bend of the orange up to your lips, testing. Waiting. It's a half moon curve, ripe and tempting.

You give in and part your lips, accept the crescent into your mouth like holding the moon on your tongue for him. 

He presses it inside, on your tongue, and you accept the crescent like holding a soft, tangerine moon in your mouth for him. His fingers skim your teeth, placing a world there, on your tongue.

“Good girl,” he says, pleased and warm, when you close around the slice. 

And then you obediently swallow it down—worldeater that you are, hungry dog that you are. 

Another tear slips free as you chew it slowly. It’s tangy and sweet and lovely. You feel the well of emotions inside you open up, threatening to drag you down into its depths—you think if you start to cry now, you won’t ever stop.

Suguru dutifully peels off another piece of orange, making sure it’s free of rind or unwanted seeds. 

When he lifts it to your mouth, you open readily for it now. Close your lips around his fingers gently, around the sweet orange.

With tears in your eyes, you look up at him, through wet lashes. 

His scent has darkened, pungent and spicier. It lingers in the back of your mouth. It’s—it makes your head spin.

And there's a strange look in his eyes now. 

Almost hungry himself, if you didn’t know better. 

A cramp rolls through you, hips and lower back churning, and you whimper, reaching for him. 

He takes hold of you easily. 

“Hurts?” He muses softly.

You nod, tense and quick. 

“Breathe,” he urges, shifting between your knees from where you’re sitting perched on his counter. 

Instinctively, you cling to him.

You let yourself pull him closer, fit himself to you—

“Breathe,” he says again gently.

But you can feel him between your legs, you can feel his own desire, and it strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Like crashing to earth.

He’s hard and heat sweeps through you in a whirlwind, so fast it makes you feel dizzy. Your head spins as you sink your nails deep into him, bear down with your strength like a bad dog, like you could get him to stay. 

Distantly, you think he’s such a strange, awful man. 

Is he so turned on from feeding you? Or from the fight? 

“Suguru,” you mewl, clinging to him desperately. And he holds you, keeps you close, until your hips twitch. 

You seek friction and he denies you. 

Frustratingly, tears spring to your eyes again. 

“You’re so—“ you try to get out, “why are you also denying yourself?” 

“Because I made you a promise.” Suguru responds evenly. He pauses, eyes flickering over you, a lightning flash of violet, “and, perhaps,” he squeezes your waist, “to teach you a lesson.” 

A noise of frustration works its way out of you, a little growl or whine, somewhere in the back of your throat. 

“Won’t you do anything to help me?” You get out, pawing at his shoulders, his chest. 

“I’m feeding you,” he says, “I’m caring for you.” 

And then he draws away, back to the orange, and your fingers grip the edge of the counter until pain presses into them. You have to force air into your lungs, try and make your head stop spinning. 

The wooziness and the aching is perhaps the worst part. You feel out of your mind, wish you could crawl out of your body. 

When Suguru returns, he has another piece of orange between his fingers. 

You glare up at him with glassy eyes. 

“Open,” he says, warm and low.

Pleased.

Turned on. 

Your lips part and you accept the fruit and his fingers into your mouth. You let yourself close around them, feel his knuckles on the inside of your warm, wet cheek. 

You’re slow about it, or maybe he is. 

You hold his gaze furiously. 

Maybe it was time you taught him a lesson, too. You bite down hard into the orange. It bursts in your mouth. 

***

The third day is perhaps the worst.

You’re so hot and somehow both overstimulated and undertouched. Your skin crawls until Suguru touches you. You ache in a way that makes you fear for your own health; several times you start to cry—not just cry, but bawl—from the pain. From the frustration.

At one point, you beg Suguru to take you to the hospital. To help you. To save you. 

You babble that you’re going to split apart. You’re going to lose your mind.

Like a colicky baby, you can’t calm down. 

And this time, he can’t quite seem to soothe you, either.

You twist and turn and pull at your clothes and your hair. You dig your nails into your own skin and drag them down in vicious, curving marks. 

You press and scratch at inflamed, painful scent glands. 

Your jaw hurts strangely in the joints. 

(You realize you want something in your mouth. Maybe you want it between your teeth.) 

Suguru tries to hold your hands away from yourself, tries to keep you from tearing into your own skin, but it only worsens you. It only makes you fight harder and cry harder. You lash out more, using more force with yourself, with him. 

When he snaps finally, pinning you roughly and with a flash of his sharper, greater canines, something inside of you howls. 

All you can do is beg and plead and cry. Press up against him desperately. Sink your face into his throat and inhale and—

Bite.

Your teeth close around the skin of his throat and bear down harshly.

He inhales sharply, spine going rigid with the pain for a moment.

You taste his blood on your tongue and feel your eyes roll blissfully to the back of your head. Darkness as your lashes flutter shut. You whimper into his throat—

“Is that what you needed?” He hisses, slipping his hand behind you to cradle your head to him, to keep you at his throat, “you just needed to get your teeth into me?” 

As if in response, you twine yourself around him, hitching your legs around his waist. Your arms winding around his broad shoulders, as if you could absorb him into your very body, your very soul. 

“Too bad it won’t take, hm?” Suguru muses, unmoving, allowing himself to melt into your vice grip on him. 

You make a soft noise; one that would be embarrassing if you didn’t—if you weren’t so—

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To Mark me properly?” He continues, voice bedroom soft, “you want to scar me with your own teeth?” 

As if in response, you try and fasten your mouth down harder, grinder your teeth into his flesh until he groans. The sound reverberates through you, rattles around inside your head until you’re mindless with it. 

When you finally manage to unlatch your teeth, he hisses and pulls away to grab your jaw. 

“What a little beast,” he sneers at you, “with my blood all over your mouth.” 

Something inside of you snaps. 

Unintentionally, you shudder into your cursed form—teeth elongating, nails sharpening. Strength rips through your otherwise feeble, heat-laddled body. In a sudden move of power, you shove him hard, and throw him off you. 

In an instant, you are back atop him. 

This time, when your teeth sink into the juncture of his other shoulder, they are far longer. 

He actually cries out in pain. 

The sound sparks beneath your skin, roars to life like a sudden fire and when he tries to grab your jaw and pry you off him, your claws sink into his wrist. 

You struggle with each other, using your cursed energy, using all the strength you have. 

Blood drips down his chest, dampening the collar of his shirt. 

He barks out a pained laugh, “you really are a curse.”

And then he is forcing you off of him, wrenching your teeth out of his skin in a brutal drag, shoving you away from him. 

You hiss, baring your dripping fangs at him and he growls back. The sound low and primal. Warning bells ping around your head, but you lunge for him again. 

This time, he isn’t so ill-prepared. 

He grapples with you on the bed, shoving you down into it with his forearm bearing down hard into your chest. 

You make a noise of pain but he doesn’t let up.

He’s panting and bleeding, his long hair slipping from its usual half-up appearance. 

Something inside of you is quite pleased at the image of him. 

Not so pristine. 

Perhaps unsure, for once in all the time you’ve known him. 

“Calm down.” He says low and soft. Part growl, part purr. “Your aggression is misguided.” 

Your teeth are bared in a snarl, “you are my tormentor.” 

“I am only respecting your wishes.” Suguru says and there is a horrible, smug lift to the corner of his lips. Maybe it’s more a threat of his teeth, which gleam in the lowlight. “I made you a promise and I’m keeping it.” 

“Let me up,” you snap. 

“Will you be good?” Suguru asks. 

Your fever spikes, tears pricking again at your eyes, and you finally lose your transformation. It melts from you, until you are fangless and drained once more. 

So drained, in fact, that your eyes gutter.

Suguru is off you in an instant. Air rushes into your lungs, the pressure from your chest lifting and he lets you heave for breath rough and hard. 

You don’t catch him move, but suddenly a glass of water is brought to your lips. When you can breathe, you drink. You let him guide it to your lips. And this time, when you try to pull away, he stops you. 

His hand cradles the back of your head, keeping your mouth to the glass.

“More,” he presses, “you’re weaker than you know.” 

And for once, you don’t fight him. 

You gulp down the rest of it, some of it slipping from your mouth, down your chin, rolling down your working throat. It’s cool but barely a balm to the oppressive heat inside of you. 

When you finish, Suguru pulls the glass away. He sets it down and studies you.

He tsks softly, “you’re a mess.” 

You take him in, though your eyes are growing heavy, all of that fighting took a lot out of you. It’s catching up with you quickly now. 

But your eyes land on the bite marks you’ve littered him with. The one, specifically, that is still ringed and bleeding, dripping down his chest. 

“So are you.” You reply, words slurring. 

You don’t catch what he says next, muffled, as you fade from consciousness. Darkness sweeps in to cradle you, much the way Suguru is now, and you fall into a restless sleep. 

***

Suguru wakes you at some point. 

It’s pitch black outside the window; there is very little light in the room at all, which adds to your confusion. Your head is throbbing. 

You whimper. 

“Sit up for me,” his voice is a hush, “can you do that?” 

“Let me sleep,” you reply, pushing weakly at him as he forces you up. Everything swims. Your head lolls like a doll and he catches it so you don’t give yourself whiplash. 

“You’re burning up,” he replies, “I need to get the fever down.” 

You don’t have the wherewithal to understand this. 

For a moment, you hope that he means—

“I’m going to give you a bath.” 

You make another noise, this one in disagreement. Fussy. 

He tuts softly at you, the way mothers do at bad children, and then he disappears, allowing you to fall back against the bed once more. 

You’re not sure for how long, but you doze off again, unable to keep your eyes open. You only awake when Suguru lifts you clear from the bed and into his arms. Again, you make a noise of protest, pushing weakly at him, but he pays you no mind. 

You open your eyes and wince against the bathroom light. 

The bath is running, filling with water. You frown and squirm in his hold, just as he gently sets you on the floor beside the tub. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he murmurs and you push his hands away.

“No,” you snap, “leave.” 

He sighs, “you can hardly sit up right now. I don’t trust you in the bath alone.” 

“I’m not a child,” you protest.

“No, but you’re experiencing a compounded Heat, after years of not having one and you don’t have a knot to soothe you.” Suguru’s voice is cool. His eyes are, too. 

You level him with the best glare you can manage, “and whose fault is that?” 

“I’m only keeping my promise.” He almost sings. 

You swat at him but he catches your wrist easily and pulls you up further as you begin to slouch further and further down against the edge of the tub. “Come,” he says, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” 

This time, when he reaches to remove your shirt, you only grumble in protest. He peels it from you carefully, revealing bare skin. Despite how hot you are, you shiver hard. 

You ache. 

This is the worst fever you’ve ever had. Perhaps, this is one of the worst you’ve felt ever. 

You can hardly move enough to allow Suguru to slip your bottoms off and you feel so miserable that you can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed or frustrated or angry. 

Tears bead at your eyes again but it’s purely because you are in so much pain. 

Suguru lifts you into the bath. 

It’s lukewarm. Tufts of bubbles smell like lavender. The water is milky and gentle. 

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started to cry again, reaching out for Suguru. You realize he’s cleaned and bandaged his bite mark. He also coos to you, rolling up his sleeves to reach you in the water, stroking at your throat, your cheek.

And then he takes a wash cloth in hand and begins to do the same. He bathes you with a strange gentleness. A gentleness you have not given him. Your tears continue, tracking down your face, which he dutifully washes, too. He wipes away your tears, any sweat and grime, until you feel shining and new.

Eventually, you rest your arms on the lip of the bathtub, folded, and lay your cheek against them. You’re exhausted and still hurting, but at least quiet for now. At least you are cleaned and—

Suguru strokes at your cheek, traces the curve and folds of your ear, gently strokes through your hair. 

“Poor thing,” Suguru murmurs, knuckles drawing across your jaw, down your throat. When he passes along your scent gland, you shiver, you wince a little. 

“Hurts,” you get out and he coos more to you.

Babying you.

And you don’t have the strength to deny him any longer, so you let yourself be babied. You whimper at him and let him try to soothe you, you let him quiet and pet you. 

You’re looking at each other rather frankly, through the haze of your Heat, through all the lust or aggression or fear. In a rare moment of peace, you gaze up at his face and he looks down into yours. 

“Do you hate me?” You ask and your voice is rather raw from all the crying, “is that why you’ve led me here?” 

A strangely fond smile touches his lips, “on the contrary,” Suguru replies, fingers careful along your cheek, “I adore you.” 

“You have such a strange way of showing it.” You tell him. 

“I’m only keeping my promise,” he says again and all you have in you is a deep, dejected sigh. 

“I’m going to make you pay for this, Suguru.” And though your tone is docile, even sleepy, it is a promise. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll try.” He agrees, touch growing stronger, bolder, as he pets down your throat, your shoulder. You lean into the touch like a cat, too exhausted to deny it. “And I’ll still be here after—your ire or punishment will not scare me away.” 

You look at him for a moment, long and hard, and only find the truth there. Something strangely raw.

After a moment, you say, “I know.” 

He hums softly, leaning forward to give your burning forehead a rare and gentle kiss, “do your worst, then.” 

You pick your head up barely, tilt your face to his and catch him in a sudden, burning kiss. 

You pull away as quickly as you’d done it. 

You can tell you’ve surprised him only momentarily, it passes over his features like a bird flickering through the sky, there and gone. 

And you say, “no,” soft, and against his lips, “I’ll do my best this time.” 

He pulls away, creating carefully controlled distance. “Come,” he says, urging you up and out of the bath, “let’s get you to bed.” 

“Carry me?” You ask as he bundles you into a soft towel. “Let me wear your shirt?” 

His eyes glint violet, dark and quick, but he says, “of course.” And indulges you.

He even holds you all night and lets you sleep in late. 

The fever only worsens. 

And you can’t tell if your resolve crumbles or strengthens; but either way, you’re born anew with the sun the next day. 

*** 

Suguru woke up before you. He let you sleep in. But now you're awake and waiting for him. When Suguru returns to wake you in the early afternoon, instead of sleeping, you are half-lidded and sun-warmed, laying in his sheets still. The fever has reached a pitch inside you. You’re sure it’s done irreparable damage to your mind and psyche because of how you find yourself.

Because of how Suguru finds you. 

The shirt of his you’d worn to bed is pushed up to your chin, revealing your bare chest, your stomach, flexing and twitching, with your legs spread. Your fingers between them, working messily against yourself, against where you’ve needed since your Heat began. 

For once, you have shocked Suguru. 

Enough that his lips part. 

Just a flash, a ripple of his features, before he smooths them out quickly. Effortlessly. But it is enough to spur you on regardless, to feel just slightly triumphant. 

You keen softly, arching your back, pushing your fingers gently through silken folds. 

“Suguru,” you mewl his name, all soft and broken, arching your hips into your own touch desperately. Beyond your desire for revenge, is simply your desire, the need to feel full, to feel pleasure like this. And you reasoned with yourself, all night, and all morning, that you’d win regardless; either you’d wrestle his tightly held control from his grasp, and get what you so desperately want from him, or you’d still get to touch yourself and find some brief moment of reprieve. 

Beyond either of those two things, you could not think. They ran around your mind like wild, starved dogs hunting down the possibility of a rabbit. 

(Or are you the rabbit? Running around and around your mind, trying to escape the bite? Or are you looking for it?) 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks and for a moment, he doesn’t dare step closer to you or the bed. 

You push a finger inside yourself, it goes in easy—so slick and easy—that the next pass, you add a second and gasp. 

What are you doing? You feel half out of your mind. 

“Can’t help it—” you get out, “it hurts so bad. It’s—I’m so—” 

You watch a muscle in his jaw feather and tick. His scent is—

It hits you like a blow to the chest, the way he smells. It’s dark and spiced with warmth; tobacco and the oud in his scent has become heavier. You can almost taste it in the air.

“Suguru—“ you mewl again, pleading and cloying. You tilt your hips up towards your hand, towards him. You’re trying to entice him. 

You can nearly hear the way his teeth grind together. 

“You’re a brat,” he hisses but you can sense the way his control has slipped and thinned. You can nearly feel it fraying in his voice alone.

You practically purr, fingers pushing desperately inside yourself. 

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” you simper, “I’ve been so good letting you feed me and bathe me—I’m wearing the shirt you put me in, too.” 

For a moment, you watch as his eyes slowly dip down the length of your body, to where your fingers are. You watch his expression flicker, the tilt of his eyebrows, the slight parting of his lips. You whimper, knowing he’s watching, and try to curl your fingers. 

But they don’t reach as deep as his might—not thick enough, either, and the ache inside you grows monstrously. 

Perhaps only soothed by the way, for once, you’ve rendered Suguru Getou rather speechless. You toss your head back and moan at the thought. 

“Suguru—won’t you help me? Even a little?” You arch off the bed and catch his gaze when his eyes fly back up to your face. 

“No,” he snaps quickly, “I promised you—“

“Then tell me what to do—talk to me.” You beg, “it hurts so bad, Suguru—“

The muscle in his jaw feathers again. But this time, he wades carefully into the room, stepping closer to the edge of the bed.

The moment he’s there, you adjust so he can see you better, move so your foot is just nearly touching his thigh at the end of the bed. And even that small potential for touch has you crying out again. 

“I’m not sure I should, after the way you’ve been acting.” He says and though he’s trying for casualness, you can sense the tension lurking underneath.

“Touch yourself then,” you breathe, your own eyes drifting down to his sweatpants—to the noticeable bulge—

In a bold move, you place your foot on his lower abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes as your fingers gently push in and out, walls fluttering desperately around them.

He catches your ankle before you can move another inch. The way he squeezes you makes a thrill run through you, race up your spine, pool somewhere low and hot in the depths of you. 

“Is this your way of trying to make me suffer?” He asks and despite everything, a hint of a smile flickers across your heated, panting face.

“Is it working?” You ask. 

All he does is hum, thumb stroking along the bone of your ankle.

Even that is enough for pleasure to skitter and flare beneath your skin. 

“Wanna see you,” you get out, breathy and soft, “wanna see what I’m missing.”

Suguru curses and you laugh, delirious and soft.

Pleasure blushes and surges beneath your skin. 

“No,” he says again but he has to grind the word out, pull it and wrestle it from his own mouth. “You won’t get the better of me here.” 

“Don’t you get tired of your tightly wound control?” You get out, twisting a little so that you might free your ankle from his grasp, but he holds firm.

“I should be asking the same of you—but clearly,” his eyes flicker again, “you do.” 

“Need you so bad—“ you get out, almost pouting. 

You can nearly hear his teeth grind together. He inhales sharply, as if to try and steady himself, but you can tell it only worsens him. Your scent must be thick in the air, sweetened and cloying.

Your fingers slip messily, desperately, over your clit, down inside of yourself and back out. You whine, a little frustrated, trying again and again to satiate the ache inside of you. But anything you do, isn’t enough. 

It almost feels as if it’s made it worse. 

“Poor thing,” Suguru finally says and you realize, he’s regained some of his composure, “look what you’ve done to yourself.” 

You curse this time. 

But you press on, unwilling to give up your win yet, “you’ve also done this—because you wanted the upper hand so bad.” You press inside yourself, hips lifting towards your fingers, “you didn’t have to take the suppressants.” 

His brow flickers up, “I did it for you.” 

“Did you?” You gasp, adding a second finger. 

He swallows, eyes falling to the apex of your thighs, watching, as you fitfully try to pleasure yourself. 

“You didn’t have to—you could’ve let me trigger your Rut. Then we both would’ve been like this—” your voice hitches, “then you would’ve gotten what you wanted sooner and you could’ve feigned innocence.” 

“You didn’t want that,” he says, watching you carefully, “who's to say you won’t come out of this Heat and resist me again?”  

“I won’t,” you breathe, “I did—” you mewl, hips arching and falling, trying so hard, working yourself up so horribly. 

You bite off a groan. 

Suguru clicks his tongue, makes a soft, disapproving noise. “And now look at you,” his hand slides along your calf, so large, and—

“Don’t even know how to properly touch yourself.” 

“Suguru—” 

Suddenly, he tugs you gently, so you’re down at the edge of the bed, your legs on either side of his thighs as he stands above you. 

He leans down slightly and you sit up, towards him, hoping, desperate—

“Such a terrible, little Omega. Do you need me to teach you this, too? Do you need me to help you?” 

You cry out, kitten soft, as needy and tender as a child. 

“Please,” you beg, “please, I need you—”

His hand traces up the outside of your calf, up to your thigh and you squirm, hope fluttering, heart racing—

“Don’t move,” he murmurs, “or I won’t help you.” 

“Suguru,” you growl in frustration. 

“Ah, ah, I thought you were being good?” 

Your head spins—you have no idea how he managed to flip it on you so sharply, but suddenly he has, and suddenly you're nearly underneath him, and he’s leaning over you and watching so intensely—so— 

You try to go still for him. Your chest is heaving. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs and his hand slowly arcs over the bend of your hip, and towards your stomach. Your hips twitch and he stills, “careful—” he warns. 

You force yourself to freeze, still panting. 

And then he lays the broadness of his hand on your lower stomach, his thumb just barely brushing your mound. 

“This is as far as I’ll go,” he says and with the way you almost fall into a frustrated groan, he seizes your chin with his other hand, “I’ll not touch you sexually. This is all I’ll give you—be grateful for even this.” 

You sneer at him and he takes his hand away. 

Instantly, you miss the warmth, the pressure, the—

“Be good, or I’ll leave the room now and let you suffer even worse than before—see what you’ve done to yourself? Worked yourself up so horribly, and all for what?”  Suguru’s voice is soft and smooth and so, horribly in control again. When did he get it back? When did he take it from you? 

“My attention? The hopes that I’d give in?” He asks. 

When you don’t respond, he squeezes your face, prompting you, “answer me, pet.” 

“Yes—I want your attention. I want—” the words break over you like a wave, the realization like a blow. You want. 

You desire. 

You want him. You want an Alpha and not just any Alpha but Suguru, despite everything, maybe because of everything. Maybe because you made him chase, and he did. Maybe because you have run your whole life from this—this attention and this desire and this intimacy—and you have finally found someone willing to hunt you down like a fox, and in the face of your gnashing teeth and growling and yipping, to treat you gently. Like you’re a beloved house pet and not a snarling, wild beast. 

“I want you,” you say honestly and his hold slackens on your cheeks to let you speak, “I hate you and I want you and—there’s no one but you—it’s only you and you’re awful but I am, too, and I need—” 

It cracks out of you, voice raw, a half-sob. 

Your tears make him smile. 

He hushes you gently, “oh, sweet girl,” he soothes, and his other hand slowly returns to its place on your trembling, lower stomach, “you’re so torn up about this. How much grief have you given yourself? Hm? Just for wanting?” 

You heave, unable to respond, suddenly reaching with your free hand for him, pulling on his shirt, closer to you. 

He gives in and goes, lets you claw at his back and bury your face in his shoulder. He finally lets go of your face, in favor of letting you fall to pieces beneath him. His knee dips on the mattress. But he holds himself above you still.

“I’ll guide you now,” he murmurs and his voice is by your ear. He turns his nose to nudge against your temple, inhaling slowly. 

You can feel the rumble of a groan through him that he holds back, a soft growl. 

And then, “look at me.” 

You sniffle and with a great deal of reluctance, you pull your face away from the safety of his shoulder to find his gaze. Midnight violet. Depthless. 

“Hate me all you want,” he says, “but I adore you—no matter how you are. Willing and pliant, or vicious and biting. I’ll always adore you. And I’ll always do what’s best for you.” 

Something inside of you cleaves open. Fractures in a way that is irreparable. 

You want to say something but you don’t know what, you have something so tremendous and terrifying inside of you, because of him—all you can get out is a soft cry. 

“Now,” he continues, eyes flickering over your body, and his thumb gently strokes over your lower stomach. “You feel empty, don’t you?” 

A whimper eeks out of you. You nod slowly. Empty and torn apart and open and aching. 

“Use three fingers, not two.” He commands gently, “you want something bigger, hm? I’m sure it hurts so badly—you’re so wet.” 

Without thinking, you obey him. 

You press three fingers carefully inside of you and it’s the first stretch you’ve gotten, the first spark of relief. 

You cry out, clinging to him. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, “in and out for me.” 

You tilt your hips up into his hand, towards your fingers, and he doesn’t scold you. The pressure on your lower stomach makes pleasure bloom and strengthen there. For a moment, it’s just the soft, slick noises of yourself, and it’s so—

Embarrassing. So horrible. 

You must look out of your depth, you must look lost or terrified, because he finally speaks again, “curl your fingers for me, darling.” 

You do just that and moan the moment you press deeper inside yourself. 

“Good girl,” he praises, “does that feel better? Answer me.” 

“Yes—yeah.” You get out, crooking your fingers inside yourself. “I still want—” 

“More?” He murmurs, pressing his hand gently against your lower stomach, “this time, you have to make do with just this.” 

You bite back your whine or complaint, head hazy—fingers moving desperately. But you don’t complain, you don’t fuss. 

He smiles when he realizes how you’ve caught yourself, “oh, look at that,” he purrs, “you can be tamed after all.” 

And before you can ruin it for yourself, Suguru sweeps his thumb just barely over your mound again, and says, “rock your hips now, gentle.” 

The moment you do, the friction against your palm makes you moan, head falling back, baring your throat. 

Perhaps without thinking, he dips forward, nose tracing over the cure of your neck, following instinct. You make another soft noise, and in your haze, wish desperately that he would just bite down—

All you get is the brief skim of his warm, soft lips. No teeth and you miss them, achingly. 

He presses his hand down just a little more and—

Pleasure bursts beneath your skin with enough force that your back bows off the bed, mouth parted. 

You sob. 

You feel your walls flutter uselessly around your fingers, feel your body desperate for something you can’t have this time, and fall apart.

Suguru is there to catch you. 

He coos to you, soft and easy, and even kisses at your damp, tear-struck cheeks. He lets you arch and twist and chase your pleasure, lets you be wanton and shameless and desperate. He lets you claw him and bite him and cry into his shoulder. 

And when you begin to quiet, he suddenly hitches your legs around his waist and lifts you clear from the bed. You lope your arms weakly around his neck and bury your face into his throat. 

You don’t protest or fight him, you are grateful and eager for all the places you touch, feeling incredibly fragile in his broad arms.  

You don’t bother to look where he’s taking you—can’t find it in yourself to care, if you can feel him against your center, feel where he’s hard and aching himself, even with the suppressants—

But between one breath and the next, you’re in the bathtub again, and the water from the shower blasts on from above. 

Ice cold water pours on you. 

You shriek and Suguru has the nerve to laugh, which makes you lunge for him, yanking him towards the spray of water. 

It soaks his shirt, his hair, as he holds himself over you, before stepping carefully into the tub to join you. 

He sits with you, beneath the cold water, and pushes his hair out of his face as you clamber into his lap. 

You pull at his wet shirt and he lets you take it off of him, throw it over the side of the tub in a heap. 

He reaches to do the same to you, ridding you of the only article of clothing you’d had on. 

You grit your teeth, “does it have to be so cold?” You ask, feeling the spray now rain against your back, your shoulders. You lean away from it, into his arms. 

“You needed this.” He says fondly. And then, as he strokes your wet hair, “I did, too.” 

“You’re an awful man,” you curse him, shivering.

“I know,” he agrees with a soft, fond smile. 

You look at him, hair inky and dark, lashes damp against his cheek, and the pleased way he smiles. Like an insufferable, giant cat. You’re aching and furious and freezing and so—so tender. 

“I hate you,” you tell him but it sounds more like a confession, soft around the edges. 

He kisses your temple, lingers there, and you can feel the curve of his smile. You can hear it color his voice;

“I know.” 

***

Something shifts between the two of you after that. And the following day, your Heat finally begins to wane slightly. 

You try to touch yourself again and Suguru forbids it this time. You fight and snarl with him, but you let him hold you and lull you to sleep. You let him feed you. And bathe you. You sleep bare against his naked chest and are soothed by it the way a fussy baby is calmed by the bare skin of their mother. 

You feel infinitely closer to him. 

You lounge with him in bed, in his living room, hanging off him all that you can. 

He indulges this behavior, encourages it, even. 

And on the eighth day, your Heat finally breaks. 

When you wake, still curled on his chest, with his hands stroking tenderly over your bare back, he asks, “how do you feel?” 

“Sane, I think.” You murmur it into his chest. 

“Your Heat broke in the night.” He says and touches your head, your forehead, like he’s taking your temperature. “You’re still a little warmer, but it’s over now, I think.” 

Slowly, you pick yourself up to look at him. To hover over him. 

He looks up at you, too, uncertain. Waiting. You’re sure he’s waiting to see if you’ll return to your usual self, if you’ll snap or snarl or chew him out—will you storm out? Or seethe? Will you fight him still, after everything, even as he holds you in his arms now? 

“Thank you for respecting my wishes,” you say instead and lean down to suddenly press your lips to his. 

You feel his surprise, the way his lips part, the way he freezes and you sink down into it. For a moment, you worry he won’t reciprocate again. 

But then, his hand comes up to cradle your face, and he nudges into the kiss. Hungry. Deep. 

You give into him, you encourage him, coaxing him with soft tongue and eager mouth. 

When you pull away, you grab his face this time, the way he always grabs yours, squeezing his lips into a little pout, “but if you ever make me suffer like that again through a Heat,” your nails dig into his cheek, “I’ll fucking kill you.” 

He laughs, canines flashing, and surges forward to kiss you again. Harder. Meaner. 

It’s all teeth and heat, a little vicious, the way you are. He wrestles you beneath him, kisses you into the mattress. And when he pulls away, he says;

“If you ever make me suffer like that again, you’ll wish you’d killed me first.” 

You feel your own smile against his neck, against one of the ridges of your own bite mark, and with all the satisfaction in the world, you sink your teeth down into it again. 

It’s like a key coming up against a lock, fitting snugly to their own indents, and finding their own, well-worn place. 

It’s like finally coming home. 

[loveyjeongie]

Bedtime

m upset so here is me writing out how I feel but also comforting myself with a short thing bc I can relate to baby mina. also I wrote this half asleep and running on no sleep for 24+ hours so I apologize if there are any mistakes <3

|little!mina, cg!2yeon|

word count: 941

warnings: mina is autistic, talk abt nightmares, hair pulling as a way to regulate emotions, just a little sad with a happy ending bc we all need that rn and I want to sleep peacefully with mommies 2yeon too :(

Everyone was laid on the couch watching a movie that was quickly coming to an end. Mina rested against jeongyeons chest, her thumb in her mouth, a habit that she always had when she was sleepy. Nayeon opposite of them, with mina’s legs resting over her lap whilst her fingers drew soft loving circles around the soft spot of her calves, the credits began to roll on the tv in front of them and she spoke through a whisper, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hey love bug, I think it’s time for bed yeah? Why don’t you come with me, i’ll help you brush your teeth!” Standing up, nayeon gently picked up mina as she shifted around in her arms with a few whines.

“mina don wan sleepies mama, mina wan mama stay wit her” her arms tightened around the back of nayeons neck as a form of expressing that she was being firm.

“Oh baby… you have to get some sleep, otherwise how will you have energy to play tomorrow?” they walked into the bathroom, she switched on the light and sat the little down on the sink’s marble countertop. But when she tried to back away mina’s grip was still tighter than ever, like she was determined to stay that close with her mama forever.

“saids mina don wan sleepies!” fussing around in her arms, she began to kick her feet while letting out a few more frustrated whines. “mina wan mama! sleepies bad sleepies hurt mina!”

At this point, jeongyeon was also standing in the doorway after being called over to help nayeon calm the upset little. Mina started to feel anxious, like there were ants crawling under her skin and her brain was on fire. Moving a hand away from her grasp on her mama, she grabbed a fistful of her hair and began tugging on it roughly in an attempt to sooth herself. “no sleepies! no sleepies! bad!” she began to yell as the overwhelming feeling of having to sleep and relive a common nightmare of hers she had the night before brought her to tears and soon she was sobbing vigorously against nayeons chest.

Mina was starting to hurt herself and pull strands out of her scalp with every other tug. Jeongyeon quickly stepped forward from the doorway to grab the little girls hand, and held it in hers as she gave it gentle kisses.

“mina baby, what’s scaring you about sleeping? have you had a bad dream?”

Through choked sobs she tried to stutter out a few words that neither caregiver could make out. The lack of understanding of what she was trying to say upset mina even further, causing her to take her other hand and ball the hair on the opposite side of her scalp in her fist as well.

Nayeon began to worry heavily, and took mina back out to the living room where she sat back down on the couch and rocked the both of them back and forth trying to calm down the sobs that were shaking the girls body.

“Sweetheart, mama and mommy aren’t going anywhere and the bad dreams can’t hurt you I promise.”

“Your mama’s right peanut, we’re always here when you sleep and you need us. Would you like to come to bed with your mommies tonight instead? Would that help the bad dreams go away?”

The rocking movements and gentle tone they used with her helped calm her jumbled mind slightly and after a few minutes minas sobs turned into occasional sniffles and small hiccups. One fist still in her hair, she grabbed the hem of nayeons shirt and brought it closer, a way that mina often grounds herself. She loved the sweet scents and soft textures that her mamas clothes always had. They made her feel like she was laying on a warm cloud.

Taking a while to respond, nayeon grabbed the hand still in minas hair and interlaced it with hers,

“Okay, cmon my sweet girl you can come to bed with mama tonight.”

The three of them entered the bedroom and as jeongyeon fixed up the bed for them all to sleep in, nayeon quickly changed mina into her favorite blue pajamas, and slipped a pull up on the small girl so that she didn’t have any accidents during the night. She was still fussy, but was only mumbling a few words such as “mama” “mommy” and “bobo”, for her paci that sat on the bedside table. Jeongyeon took mina from nayeon arms so that she could get undressed as well, and laid down in the middle of the bed, the little crawling on top of her chest and placing her ear to her heart. The boom of their heartbeats made her feel safer, closer even, so they always let her rest there whenever she wants. Nayeon climbed into the bed and under the blankets on the other side of mina, grabbing the blue penguin themed paci from the nightstand and sliding it past her lips.

She fussed slightly, prompting jeongyeon to rock her side to side.

“We love you peanut, and your mommies will never let anything hurt you, if you have any bad dreams you’ll wake up and both of us will be here to protect you from them, okay?”

mina closed her eyes slowly and hummed in response.

“Goodnight my sweet girl, i love you.”

nayeon pulled the comforter over them, and let out a sigh.

On the brink of sleep, and finally feeling safe again in the arms of her mommies, she mumbled barely audibly before stilling for the night.

“no bad nite mamas, mina wuvs u too”

[juni-ravenhall]

How about 4, 5, and 6 for your ask game :3c?

Which Horse was your first purchase? Do you still own that horse, and what did you name it?

so when i started playing sso (2017?) i occasionally saw people ride this horse, i still remember being in moorland as a n00b and stopping in my tracks to look at it bc i was blown away:

im weak for "lighter mane colour than coat colour" horses and this one has a unique colour so it really stood out to me. plus, im a friesian enjoyer as far as irl horses go, even if sso friesians have never been quite right to me (including this one).

so i googled where to get this horse, okay, new hillcrest. i told myself: thats the horse i want, i dont need to buy any other horse until i can get it bc i dont care that much about any other horse ive seen so far anyway. (i obvs didnt have much sc, since id just started) i had no idea how long it would take to get to NH at this point lol.

then i play for some time and i get to firgrove (i think that was where it was at least). and im met by......

.... this guy who i just love. hes so cute. i stare at him and question if i have to stick to my decision to save up sc for the friesian. eventually i decide that it seems like its a long time until i unlock NH anyway, so its okay if i get him in the meantime.

so he was my first bought horse, and it was a great decision bc then he was my main (very beloved) horse for a long time. his name is Snowspell but i also call him Pelle (swedish name). this was also before the starter horse got gen3'd, so Pelle just looked better than Winterborn dsfgkjdfs... but i rode him all the time and loved him so much.

eventually when i got to NH, i think id bought at least one other horse (the blue old magic horse), and also, when i actually was face to face with the friesian i wanted, i realised i didnt like it that much. i felt like the face wasnt that pretty, and overall it looks a bit plasticky like a toy. i did buy one (shes called MorningDream, i think maybe shes called Morning Sun in my brain tho) and then just didnt ride her at all basically..... until 2-3 years ago when i suddenly realised that i love her with red tack on, she looks like a beautiful christmas toy horse, so we got a happy ending too.

Which Horse is your favorite? Do you own said horse, or are you simply dreaming of buying it?

basically Winterborn my starter is my emotional favourite like, he doesnt have the best model, but i cant imagine not having him (or a replacement for him if they released another horse that has the same colour and vibes, to take over the title of heart horse vessel).

at the moment my non-starter favourite is my ardennes Meatball (registered name Walnut) and im really frustrated that hes not good for champs bc i want to ride him all the time. i have a lot of beloved horses though so i will just leave it at current obsession and heart horse for now.

Which Breed is your favorite? Which Generation is it from, and why do you love it so much?

it might be the ardennes. the appaloosa is also up there. in general i seem to like Nomi's horses bc they have the most personality, both in the model and animation, and also in the small details in the coats, all together it makes them feel more alive. i dont like the ones that lack interesting mouth / tongue / eye / nose animations, and i dont like ones that have too undetailed coats (which looks plasticky to me). also i love hairy horses so ardennes hits a lot of points for me.

[interdimensionalrealitymachine]

one thing i've struggled with is maturing past the idea of wanting to be someone important. idk if this is a #relatable exjw mood but there was really something about growing up in that environment, being told that you're part of the only True religion and that preaching is The Most Important Work you can do, that made you feel like you were saving the world

losing that sense of purpose is hard. i find myself fantasizing about being someone important in the world, someone with influence and the power to change things for the better. a lot of it is just the standard "what you would do with a million dollars" type stuff, but some of it feels like, embarrassingly childish daydreams about being famous. don't people usually grow out of those kinds of dreams? (admittedly, i have no frame of reference for whether they do or not)

like, i know i don't need to Be someone in order to make a difference in the world. statistically speaking, most people on earth aren't gonna do something great and amazing and memorable with their lives, and i'm no exception. anyone can make a difference on a small scale and that's still worth something. obviously it's not gonna be on the level of like, curing a disease, but that's okay

and generally i feel like a pretty down-to-earth person in most situations, which makes it frustrating to have to mentally reel my mind back in bc it's imagining fantastical futures where i'm simultaneously an actor a doctor a singer and a senator

like bro (my brain), can you just go back to coming up with fanfic ideas in the shower, that was much preferred and far less cringe

[invernom]

So I'm diagnosed inattentive adhd, undiagnosed-but-strongly-suspecting autistic & undiagnosed-but-damn-certain-of-it osdd type plural system, I have some particular experiences that I feel like kinda blur lines between diagnoses, between what traits I have and what I don't, and why I do or don't act in certain ways.

Aka I just feel frustrated about memory issues, repression & childhood & the burden of proving diagnoses when I have a brain that got way too good at masking everything, even from itself, and I wanted to disjointedly vent about it

So for a long time I've had a niggling feeling like I've been skating forward in life operating like I've always done, but there's a lot of mental processing that goes on in my subconscious that I'm not really able to touch and understand. And I feel like I have a continuous, uninterrupted experience of my life & access to memory (I.e. no blackouts or time loss traditionally associated with DID) but then again I also intellectually know I have memory like a seive and forget stuff all the time

And I can't remember a lot of my past, except when I start trying to connect to parts of myself, my experience and feelings I don't traditional access (or have long-term suppressed) when operating on a day-to-day level. Then I can get vivid, clear memories flooding back to the point where I almost feel like I'm there again (which is still fucking wild to me, when I'm used to my memories always being hazy and scattered!)

But like even though I'm gaining access to more of my memories, there's still a lot I don't have. And I've met (and blended with, at one point) parts of myself that restrict or open access to memories/information to different parts of my mind??

And blending with or connecting to various parts of myself has given me temporary access to memories, knowledge and traits/behaviors that I lose once we separate, which is fucking weird! Like afterwards I'll have clear memories of what blending was like and what I experienced myself saying, thinking or doing when blended, but like the wellspring of knowledge & personality that the alter brought up that generated those things isn't there anymore. And I can't really capture the same results if I try to mimic them without the connection. Also some of my alters have special interests and deep insights about stuff I've never thought deeply on or even thought about thinking deeply on & then they come blend with me and I'm infodumping & I'm like ???? :O

So like it's really cool to be introduced to my own hidden depths and to find out about parts of myself I didn't know about or thought I'd lost, but it's also still deeply frustrating to navigate trying to prove I'm a system or autistic to anybody who's skeptical or needs proof from my childhood or my family's recollections of me.

Like the adhd really hasn't been a problem to prove or talk about to others, but the plurality is mostly internal or is stuff I explore alone (bc it makes me feel vulnerable or weird, and generally talking about it feels like trying to describe a weird dream or a paranormal encounter to someone).

And the autism... How do I prove autism to my therapist when my brain has restricted my access to most of my childhood memories, and my family members also have shit memories (possibly bc of their own neurodivergence)? And what childhood behavior of mine is remembered by myself/others is influenced by the unique blend of my neurodivergent traits plus the hidden, subconscious work my mind learned to do & dissociate from in order to keep me functioning on the day to day.

Like the more I learn about my own brain via my system & the more I connect to my true self in its various parts, the more solid I feel in that feeling I've always had that part of the reason my surface-self is so scatterbrained and foggy most of the time is bc a LOT of thinking, processing, remembering & feeling has been happening where I can't reach.

And that's probably been happening since I was a small child, too. I feel like my smart, sensitive and intuitive little brain internalized a lot of stuff in its quest of trying to grow up & fit in & function, and a lot of autistic traits that may otherwise become a noticeable pattern in some children came out a few times for me, got a negative response from others, and bc of that I repressed and dissociated from them. Or the traits others didn't like that I couldn't subconsciously repress I learned to consciously repress or hide, bc even when I didn't understand why I had them I knew they were undesirable.

(Also, side note, I get the feeling I developed as an osdd system that has an always-fronting shell alter to handle day to day life smoothly is bc of this slow, imperceptible poison drip kinda ND trauma and repression.)

So if I'm right on this theory, then it both shows how damn resourceful & adaptive my brain has always been, and would further confirm why I'm completely screwed on ever proving my autism to someone who needs proof of patterns in my childhood behavior to diagnose/believe me.

Like the biggest, most significant breakthrough I've ever had in my life towards healing & really reconnecting with myself after years spent in burnout & depression came only bc I asked myself "hey, what if I might be autistic?" & then had a sudden, clear experience of meeting other alters... and yet those are the 2 possible diagnoses I may never be able to officially confirm.

[felixantares]

15 Questions | 15 People

Rules: Answer these 15 Questions, then Tag 15 People 

omg okay so ignore the fact that it's been well over a week and pretend I didn't absolutely forget about this. but thank you for the tag @the-francakes 💚

1. Are you named after anyone? Well originally yes, but since we ignore that name and I'm gonna get it legally changed eventually I'm going to tell you something more interesting. I named myself after a star: Felix means lucky, and Antares is the brightest star in the Scorpius constellation and sometimes known as the "heart of the scorpion". So I loosely named myself after my birth sign and a combo that could be interpreted as "lucky star". (also I just really like the name Felix and have since I was like 15)

2. When was the last time you cried? I can't remember, honestly. probably something small and dumb when I was overly frustrated and the tears definitely weren't actually about the thing I was crying over haha

3. Do you have kids? Lmao absolutely not.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? No, not at all.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?  It really depends on the person? Typically clothes/hair but working as a security guard means that I notice a lot really quick just bc I'm trained to.

6. What’s your eye colour? Light brown!

7. Scary movies or happy ending? Oh happy endings for sure - not because I enjoy them more than anything else mind you (I love a good tragedy) but because I can't do scary movies, i'm a big baby - jump scares are a no go for me. I know not all scary movies have jump scares but they stress me out so bad the whole genre just kinda got ruined for me, not worth the risk.

8. Any special talents? Does art count? Idk if it counts as special since I went to uni for it. I also bake and decorate cakes and stuff, which not a lot of people know. I got paid for it a couple times in high school.

9. Where were you born? Canada :)

10. What are your hobbies? oh man, this question is always hard. Because art is my hobby, but also a job and also my education, so like ??? is it a hobby? but it's all I do lmao so I don't have any other answer.

11. Do you have any pets?  Yes!!! The fluffiest, stupidest little cat named coffee bean whom i adore with my whole heart. I would probably do anything for her 🥰

12. What sports do you play/have you played? I haven't played a sport since I was 14 and broke my wrist playing soccer in the rain (though I will say I played the rest of the game with it in a bandage and when I got to the doctor he was like "no it's like SUPER broken you should've come here immediately" and now my left wrist makes a funny little cracking noise every time i roll it in a circle).

13. How tall are you? 5'8″ or 5'9" (i forget)

14. Favourite subject at school? You know, you'd think with the everything about me it'd be something like english, history, or social studies, or maybe even theatre, but it's actually math. I did an AP Calc class just for fun even though I had enough credits to graduate without it.

15. Dream job? I have no dream job, I do not dream of labour. But more seriously, I really want to work in animation! I actually prefer drawing environments over characters (funny given I only draw characters these days) but ideally I'd like to do background/environment design for some type of children's animations like Hilda, Amphibia, and the Owl House.

oh god I definitely don't have 15 people to tag but uhhh @girl-with-goats @gloivy @venom0usbarbie @allalrightagain @soloorganaas (i hope it's okay I tagged you!!! i'm so sorry if not) and @vitaminpops

absolutely feel free to ignore if you've done it already or just don't want to!! 💚

[mirei-nari]

Just when I think I'm not learning or retaining anything bc I end up gettingg frustrated at the current problem I'm suppose to solve, my brain suddenly kicks in and says "Bitch you didn't give me time to power up. We are old. You know you gotta let me absorb information completely before we apply it" when I work on the same problem the next day.

I really just need to take a step back and keep reminding myself that Rome wasn't built in a day and that I need to slow down sometimes. But it just feels like I'm on a time crunch bc I'm unemployed, to get these certifications that probably won't help much short term in finding a job. Like I know for sure fact that it will help me LONG term, but all my life I've always told myself that I wasn't going to live to a certain age so what's the point in doing anything, but now I'm here past that age. Past multiple ages that I thoughts it would be the end.

Is this what healing is like? Probably not necessarily the healing I need, but I'm slowly working through my problems and I'm seeing progress. I think. At least it seems like I'm progressing. Because for the past 2 years, every single day I wake up, in order to get myself to do things, I've said to myself "you either do THIS or you kill yourself." And I just couldn't go on living like that bc up until I quit my job, I was getting closer and closer to killing myself. I worked as a small family owned restaurant so I shouldn't have been as stressed out as I was, but I just couldn't take it anymore. This year was worse that precovid in terms of work load. And I get it. It's hard times right now, but every single fucking shift, unless I had another old timer her worked there, I was doing 3-4 different jobs while also doing my own fucking job plus babysitting all the high-school kids we had and I couldn't take it.

But since I've left there, I haven't had to tell myself "do this or die" and honestly I've been happier than ever. There's also a constant nagging in the back of my head saying I shouldn't be happy bc the money I had saved up is gonna be gone within a few months bc of bills and I refuse to go back into a food industry job again even though when I was younger, that was my dream lmao. I know everyone learns things on their own time, but there's this fucking near nonexistent time crunch. And like the tech industry is notoriously hard to get into especially if you don't have connections. Web design? I love it. I love learning how to build these silly little pages, but is it really going to get me anywhere?

These are the fucking thoughts I have and like its hard bc I KNOW my family doesn't understand why I would quit a job when I had absolutely nothing lined up. At all. And I'm scared to even leave my room to make myself food bc I do not want to be interrogated by people who refuse to even try to understand that I WANTED to die so bad that I needed to leave that place whether I had a backup plan or not.

So here I am. Jobless. In today's crumbling economy. In my family's eyes, just sitting in my room all day doing nothing but playing games. Which is funny bc I don't even have the energy to play games sometimes. I'm in here learning a tech skill that I don't even know will be applicable bc I have NO connections in the industry. But I mean people have all started somewhere, right?

My brain is just a real hot mess but at least it's not hell anymore.

[dex-starr]

It’s still bugging my brain that like I never thought marriage was a thing I wanted, I didn’t care for it. I didn’t care for the status of it nor the idea of a ceremony. But then I met you and well I just wanted to legitimately just marry you, I thought about how beautiful you’d look in whatever dress you picked. Thought about what kind of rings I would run by you to see if you liked them. Thought about how we’d deal with the ceremony if that was a thing or if we’d just keep it small and civil or sneak off and elope.

You have no idea how many times I wanted to, most of the time I just wanted to run away with you and forget everyone else in my life. Although I feel like ultimately that would catch up with me and make me feel guilty. You have no idea how much I hated making you wait for me, how much I hated myself for not feeling like I had it all together that I was able to not be a burden because of my mistakes I made. I fixed all those things but if I gave you my last name like we talked about you’d inherit all my problems that were unrelated to you. Hell I thought about that even when it came to just moving across the country for you.

I have been through a lot of things and have been lucky to been unscathed but fuck man why did I need better finances to want my dream to come true? And having the ability to be where I’m at now why didn’t I do that sooner. Like I’m looking at this fucking paycheck now and I’m just like god it could’ve just been so simple. I could’ve been earning this and had enough to make moving in with you a reality. I could’ve gotten my ass to a psychiatrist sooner than later and deal with my brain and self-esteem. I could’ve just made the proper choice and been with ya Linds

Man I haven’t thought of calling you that in a while

I don’t think hearing the words “you know you’re a catch and I know someone’s going to come along that you can be with that you will love, who can grow, change with you and have a happy life together” (or along the line of that bc my brain checked out immediately and just thought of you, hah.) I don’t think that helped. It just reminded me of all those things I did feel, and it sucks because in my head now I have that doubt. I have that doubt because someone told me things that maybe you said and meant or maybe you just said them in frustration.

In either case it all really just sucks. I don’t want to be a part of this cycle anymore but I’m stuck here. Being the type of person who wants to not be around but is afraid of death is honestly one of the most ironic fucking things.

[lunatic-fandom-space]

"Its 10pm and Id like to read at least one more volume" I said before proceeding to stay up until 4:30am reading this manga until I was finished

So yeah, Im writing this at around 8:30am having gotten three hours of sleep and one hour of laying in bed awake, after I finished volume 30 chapter 165 of the black hutler and Id like to talk about some of my thoughts

I know that the emglish and japanese version are already further along than that (I mean, if my research was correct volume 31 did come out in german already, I just couldnt find a physical copy at either of my local bookstores), so I would appreciate it if you didnt spoil me

So yeah, non-spoilers first I guess:

Honestly, I had kind of mixed feelings about a lot of the... revelations ? is probably the best word? I dont know, like, I was reading this and I just kinda let myself be taken along for this thrilling rollercoaster of emotions but while I was doing that, I couldnt help but notice this nagging feeling of "uohhhh, i dont really like where this going" in the back of my mind, which made for a bit of a 'conflicting' read. Even now that Im fully awake looking back on it, I still dont quite know how to feel. I feel like with these kinds of wild storylines it always more or less depends on the conclusion, so I guess I'll wait for that

Also, as for my theory about the people from the Undertakers medallions being people who entered contracts with demons, Im a little less sure about that now?? Idk why because nothing happened that would contradict this

And thats pretty much it, I'll go into some of the more spoiler-y details now

HOLY HELL THAT TWIN TWIST WAS INSANE WTF MAN

like, I was kinda spoiled for this because Ive read a few fanfics where this is sort of mentioned, although it qas alqays in a pretty vague way and I was still shocked

Heres what I wrote to my friends in a discord server Im in right after the older brother showed up:

"Oh god

This arc was already some insane bullshit but Something just happened sorry if I spam in advance

Theres two Ciels

I was already kinda spoiled for this but still

like, okay, so in the previous arc Ciel had to be forcefed w/ a funnel so he wouldnt die of mustard gas poisoning and it triggered some traumatic memories from his past and he had an episode where he wouldnt let any adult touch him and during whole ordeal he would, idk dream or hallucinate or something

And he would hallucinate about himself standing on this beg chess board with a pretty outfit and a version of himself without the contract seal

And I was like 'surely this cant be literal, it has to be symbolic" yknow, the version of Ciel without the contract seal is an untainted version, possibly what he vouldve been if it wasnt for that day

NOPE

I WAS WRONG"

so yeah, that was something.

I still dont know how to feel about this, like, it makes sense even though its pretty clear to me that they came up with this twist a bit later on (I believe they had this idea a little before the Campania arc, I remember that scene during the extended flashback where hes standing in front of his parents graves also having a small cut-off panel with a gravestone with Ciels name on it), but ugh. Idk I'll just see how it goes I guess

I am sooooo curious about whats up with the Undertaker and the Phantomhives like ??? Bro, he CRIED looking at a picture of Vincent thats so weird. And obviously he went through all the trouble of reviving Ciel thats wild. So yeah, very excited to see where that goes

Im also very excited to see what theyre gonna do with Soma now. I really liked Agnis death and I while it felt like his change in personality was a bit jarring, I do like him becoming more jaded like Ciel. Theres a vertain irony to it bc he did admire him and sort of wanted to be like him in some way

Ngl I found it so frustrating how Lizzy and the Midfords and Tanaka just fully abandoned (our) Ciel after the other one showed up. Lizzy especially because its like

[cleostoohot]

OOKAYYYY

im sure u get a lot of anons asking why they dont have results, blah blah blah. as someone who recently uncovered my root problems heres some advice. imma continue to to roex3dol even if the 3d doesnt show results (which it eventually will) imma continue affirming after 3 days.

HERE IS HOW TO COMBAT THE INSECURITY:

as im sure you have all heard before, dont stress the results will show up in the 3d if you keep affirming.

THE BIGGEST INSECURITY that will get in your way is "what if...." or imagining yourself after 3 days not having your desire or really seeing your future self not with ur desires. If you fall into any of these categories or something similar, catch yourself and start affirming that it has absolutely zero choice but to work. when you imagine yourself failing you are creating that room for failure, you cant believe two polar opposite concepts at once. IT IS POSSIBLE TO BELIEVE IN THE ONE YOU WANT!

ive known abt manifesting (attraction) since aug 2020, i found solar subs and law of assumption in jan 2021, in around aug 2021 i found neville and loa tumblr, in nov 2021 i started manifesting small things. now i still have manifested small things but not my dream life it hasnt appeared in the 3d. thats my experience. ive fumbled AAAAALLOOOTT. i was gonna write this on my blog but after almost two years of experience ill quickly list my largest cause of failure.

WAVERING/NOT PERSISTINGl

one day i would try affirming for the void and after that didnt work i would do a challenge, and after that didnt work i did bkanket affirmations and after that didnt work i did sats and after that didnt work i would do meditations. i didnt think i was doing anything wrong, looking back im so frustrated with myself for wasting so much time. and if lets say i did void affirmations, blanket affirmations, meditations all in one manifesting routine if i missed one i would start over because i believed it wouldnt work despite reading otherwise. this is a new realization, im not even sure i have a total grasp on my mistakes now, but imma keep persisting.

how im going to fix this: i have 1 thing i will do daily which is affirming. i have 2 affirmations i will always use "roe i have all my desires" "roe i manifest in 3dol" even after 3 days imma keep affirming. im working towards holding the assumption that it has no choice but to appear in the 3d. even just yesterday i was abt to quit "maybe i should just be okay with what i have now and revise___" NOPE. im working towards my dream life so i wont stop. just because im getting some material items in my 3d doesnt mean i should be good with what i have now. i will wake up in my dream house and blah blah blah other dream things. my tendency to do that is most likely bc im scared i wont manifest my dream life. I WILL, YOU WILL, WE ALLL WILL!!!! stick with your decisions, dont be afraid of time passing, that will hold you back.

i said this earlier i was gonna write this on my own blog but i feel more ppl would see it here. i hope that previous example i said about switching to void, to med, to affirmations really sticks with someone because that realization was key.

if you dont have what you want in the 3d after 3 days, GENUINELY address your beliefs. when blogs suggested to address your limiting beliefs, i never would bc i thought i was doing everything perfectly. BUT IM SERRRIOUUUSSSS address them. heres cleos post abt somethings that may be holding you back that was my catalyst fr to address what i was doing wrong, even if my exact problem wasnt listed there.

TYYYY CLEOOOOOOOO ill continue affirming!!!! sorry for typing mistakes i manifested a laptop but ive only used tumblr on mobile.

tysmmm for this luv💗💗💗 you should put it on ur blog too

[thisdreamplace]

Hey ... So I'm having this problem that's. Not really a problem. But I just idk. I'm in a very confused phase right now. I kind of had this mild realisation earlier today after reading some of your posts. Like this very small epiphany that yes, I really am god, I really am in charge. But it was more like "ohh, I just need to acknowledge this fact and live in it to fully step into my power and start living the life I want" kinda deal, not an ACTUALLY acknowledging my power, living in it, fully stepping into it kinda deal. I've wanted to go into the void for a while, months actually, and I realised - hey, wtf? This is the law of ASSUMPTION. Just live in your imagination, become totally deluded and convince yourself that you're going to go into the void tonight or that you go into it every time you fall asleep or that it's just ridiculously easy for you to get in. Even if it doesn't happen at first, so what? You're supposed to ignore the 3D and live in the 4D. Just persist in it and, because you're pretty good at manifesting despite your constant spiralling and doubts and questionable self concept, within a few days the 3D will conform and you'll get in. Then you'll set the intention for every single desire you have from your very long list, then you'll shift to one of your fun little DRs and stay there for a few days before coming back to this reality and THEN you'll begin living the life of your dreams and finally enjoying yourself and being happy. It's so simple. Just change your thoughts.

And then I didn't do any of that.

Idk. I don't know why I didn't. It's night right now where I am and in a while I'm going to sleep and I'm going to try to go into the void again and fail because I didn't do any of it and I'm very tired and I don't know what to do and I'm also confused because why am I making this so hard for myself? The void is literally within me. I already have the assumption that it's easy to enter the void and that I'll get in after 5 minutes or less of affirming. I didn't succeed before because I didn't actually try - I got stuck on the part where you're supposed to find a comfortable position to stay still and relax in. I flopped around for hours trying to get comfortable, until eventually I got so tired and frustrated that I said fuck it and went to sleep. This happened a few nights in a row. I have (strongly suspected) ADHD and I fidget a lot, especially at night when I'm laying down and trying to sleep, and it helps me focus and relax. But you're supposed to stay still when affirming for the void so that just sucks. Two nights ago I tried for the void again and for the first time I actually got symptoms - my calves felt like they were floating or expanding and I got really excited, but then I think I just lost focus or something because it stopped and then I lost my momentum. I KNOWW you don't need the void to manifest and trust me, I don't put it on a pedestal or anything (or at least I try not to) and I do believe that it's easy to enter. Just not for me. And I know how to fix it hence the entire first part of this incredibly long and annoying message but for some reason I choose not to. Also it might be worth mentioning I had about two mental breakdowns this week and I've just generally not been feeling the greatest, so that might be having some effect in my manifestations and mindset. In fact the only reason I'm writing this is because I was feeling really bored and depressed and hopeless and I just wanted some advice about ... Literally anything. All I want to do is go to the void, manifest my dream life, and dip. After I get all those things I want, including being cured by what can be considered a disability, I'll finally be happy. That's probably a damaging way to think. But anyway.

What am I doing wrong?

hi. tbh bestie this is kind of going to be tough love bc honestly speaking

you said a lot of things here but what stood out to me the most was this part:

“I KNOWW you don't need the void to manifest and trust me, I don't put it on a pedestal or anything (or at least I try not to) and I do believe that it's easy to enter.”

with all the love, and this isnt just towards you but many others, you need to get real. lol it has me gagged that so many of you sit here sounding like, “life is so hard. im very ugly. no one loves me. im so depressed. my self concept is really good though so like where am i going wrong 💔” like lmfao…….

there’s not one bit of you in this ask that has me convinced that you actually know the things you’re claiming. you don’t need the void, you don’t put it on a pedastal… and yet you send me this ask where you’re obsessed with it. okay…

so let’s just start there. honesty with oneself is the first step. in the law especially, lying to yourself actually never works because like it says in the bible god will not be mocked. this means that you can pretend to be some type of way, but the god within knows what you’re REALLY saying within yourself. don’t be surprised when your real story you believe in keeps showing up in your life.

second thing that stood out to me:

“After I get all those things I want, including being cured by what can be considered a disability, I'll finally be happy. That's probably a damaging way to think. But anyway.”

those who wait for happiness wait forever. because it was always within, it was never a destination. it was always there and they ignored it. i think we try to write things off by pretending we’re acknowledging it “that’s probably a damaging way to think.” no, it actually is the reason why you’re in a self sabotaging doom loop. i’m not really sure what you want ? the law is driven by the self and only the self. either you’re in charge or you’re not. either you take control of your life or you keep thinking the universe may come in and save you. choose one because it simply will never work both ways.

when people come to me honestly, i will truly do what i can to help you no matter how hard it gets. when people come to be complacently, i’m not sure what to do. if you sit here and say you know everything and you just refuse to do it… then… alright. no one said you have to get what you want in life. it is completely optional for some of you. for me though, it’s the only path i see. thats why i stay committed and devoted to myself everyday because i deserve it all. and i know there’s plenty of you out there who feel how i do and wake up everyday to do your best. i do what i need to do to make sure i’m taken care of, because i love me and look out for me. if you’re gonna treat yourself like a second choice, and can’t even be bothered to turn within yourself and be the support you need then… i’m not sure what i could do for you. the law is fully based on self and only the self.

also it’s not always as easy as just flipping thoughts. it works for some people, sure. but that has nothing to do with those of us who it doesn’t work for. lol there’s other paths in this than just flipping thoughts and relying on the void like it’s ur lifeline. so if i was u i would lighten up a little and explore and learn myself and do what actually feels good to me and not what the entire online community is telling me to do.

i think sometimes some of us have actual old stories we have to work thru first. like your choice to just keep doing nothing isn’t just bc. there’s something inside u that is actively making it this hard. i also had this type of similiarity i had once had to sit down with and confront and accept about myself so i could let it go. so yeah. i’m not into the idea that you can just… bypass ur deeply engrained old story. it’ll keep being the place u operate from until u properly acknowledge it and allow urself to shift. note how none of this about force. it’s just about allowing. on my blog u have more than enough advice on how this is done. (pls check #i am and #allowing tags)

anyway i hope this helps you to maybe take on a new perspective and move forward in a way you would want for yourself. sorry it it was ever harsh but i do think its important to share this, for others who can relate to you. 💞

[gladiates]

175+ non-Western literature recommendations to diversify your academia, organized by continent + country

I love world literature, and I’ve been frustrated by the lack of representation of it in literature + academia communities on tumblr, so here are some recommendations. I haven’t read all of these myself yet, but the ones I have are excellent and the ones I haven’t come highly recommended from Goodreads and are on my to-read list! 

With the exception of anthologies of older works, all of these books were written before 2000 (some literally thousands of years earlier), since I’m less familiar with super contemporary literature. Also, I only included each writer once, though many of them have multiple amazing books. I’m sure there are plenty of incredible books I’m missing, so please feel free to add on to this list! And countries that aren’t included absolutely have a lot to offer as well--usually, it was just hard to find books available in English translation (which all of the ones below are.)

List below the cut (it’s my first post with a cut so let’s hope I do it right... and also warning that it’s super long)

ASIA:

Bangladesh:

Pather Panchali by Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay (1929)

China:

Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu (6th century BCE)

The Art of War by Sun Tzu (5th century BCE)

The Analects by Confucius (circa 5th-4th century BCE?)

The Book of Chuang Tzu by Zhuangzi (4th century BCE)

Mencius by Mencius (3rd century BCE)

The Songs of the South: An Anthology of Ancient Chinese Poems by Qu Yuan and Other Poets (2nd century AD)

Li Po and Tu Fu: Poems by Li Po and Tu Fu (written 8th century AD)

Poems of Wang Wei (8th century AD)

Romance of the Three Kingdoms by Luo Guanzhong (14th century AD)

Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio by Pu Songling (1740)

Dream of the Red Chamber by Xueqin Cao (1791)

Six Records of a Floating Life by Shen Fu (1809)

Diary of a Madman and Other Stories by Lu Xun (1918)

Mr Ma and Son by Lao She (1929)

Family by Ba Jin (1933)

Love in a Fallen City by Eileen Chang (1943)

A Source Book in Chinese Philosophy by Wing-Tsit Chan (1963)

Red Sorghum by Mo Yan (1987)

Soul Mountain by Gao Xingjian (1989)

The Big Red Book of Modern Chinese Literature edited by Yunte Huang (anthology, 2016)

India:

The Rig Vega (1500-1200 BCE)

The Mahabharata and the Bhagavad Gita (around 400 BCE but not known exactly. The Gita is part of the Mahabharata)

The Upanishads (REALLY wide date range)

The Dhammapada (3rd century BCE)

The Fundamental Wisdom of the Middle Way by Nāgārjuna (2nd century AD)

The Recognition of Sakuntala by Kālidāsa (4th century AD)

The Way of the Bodhisattva by Santideva (700 AD)

Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore (1910)

Annihilation of Caste by B.R. Ambedkar (1936)

The Discovery of India by Jawaharlal Nehru (1946)

Train to Pakistan by Khushwant Singh (1956) 

A Source Book in Indian Philosophy by Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan and Charles Alexander Moore (1957)

Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie (1981)

A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth (1993)

Women Writing in India: 600 BC to the Present V: The Twentieth Century by Susie J. Tharu and K. Lalita (1993)

A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry (1995)

The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy (1996)

Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri (1999)

Indian Philosophy in English: From Renaissance to Independence (anthology, 2011)

Indonesia:

The Weaverbirds by Y.B. Mangunwijaya (1981)

Iran:

Shahnameh: The Persian Book of Kings by Abolqasem Ferdowsi (11th century AD)

The Essential Rumi by Rumi (13th century AD)

The Blind Owl by Sadegh Hedayat (1936)

Savushun by Simin Daneshvar (1969)

My Uncle Napoleon by Iran Pezeshkzad (1973)

Missing Soluch by Mahmoud Dowlatabadi (1979)

Iraq:

Fifteen Iraqi Poets edited by Dunya Mikhail (published 2013 but the poems are 20th century)

Japan:

The Ink Dark Moon: Love Poems by Ono no Komachi and Izumi Shikibu (9th-10th century AD)

The Pillow Book by Sei Shōnagon (1002 AD)

The Tale of Genji by Murasaki Shikibu (1008 AD)

The Tale of the Heike, unknown (12th century AD)

One Hundred Poets, One Poem Each: A Treasury of Classical Japanese Verse (not sure of year)

Essays in Idleness by Yoshida Kenkō (1332)

Kokoro by Natsume Sōseki (1914)

No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai (1948)

Snow Country by Yasunari Kawabata (1948)

The Makioka Sisters by Jun'ichirō Tanizaki (1948)

Confessions of a Mask by Yukio Mishima (1949)

Masks by Fumiko Enchi (1958)

The Woman in the Dunes by Kōbō Abe (1962)

A Personal Matter by Kenzaburō Ōe (1964)

Silence by Shūsaku Endō (1966)

Korea (written before the division into North/South):

The Memoirs of Lady Hyegyong (written 1795-1805)

Lebanon:

Samarkand by Amin Maalouf (1988)

Gate of the Sun by Elias Khoury (1998)

Pakistan:

We Sinful Women: Contemporary Urdu Feminist Poetry (1991)

The Rebel's Silhouette: Selected Poems by Faiz Ahmed Faiz (1991)

The Taste of Words: An Introduction to Urdu Poetry edited by Raza Mir (2014)

Palestine:

Men in the Sun and Other Palestinian Stories by Ghassan Kanafani (1963)

Orientalism by Edward Said (1978)

I Saw Ramallah by Mourid Barghouti (1997)

Mural by Mahmoud Darwish (2000, which technically breaks my rule by a year but it’s great)

Philippines:

Noli Me Tángere by José Rizal (1887)

Saudi Arabia:

Cities of Salt by Abdul Rahman Munif (1984)

Sri Lanka:

Funny Boy by Shyam Selvadurai (1994)

Syria:

Damascus Nights by Rafik Schami (1989)

Taiwan:

Last Words from Montmartre by Qiu Miaojin (1996)

Turkey:

My Name Is Red by Orhan Pamuk (1998)

Vietnam:

Spring Essence: The Poetry of Hô Xuân Huong by Hô Xuân Huong (1801)

The Tale of Kieu by Nguyen Du (1820)

Paradise of the Blind by Duong Thu Huong (1988)

Miscellaneous Asia (country unclear or multiple current day countries):

The Epic of Gilgamesh (circa 1800 BCE)

Myths from Mesopotamia translated by Stephanie Dailey

The Arabian Nights (as early as the 9th century AD, lots of changes over the years)

The Qur’an

AFRICA:

Algeria:

Fantasia: An Algerian Cavalcade by Assia Djebar (1985)

The Bridges of Constantine by Ahlam Mosteghanemi (1993)

Cameroon:

Houseboy by Ferdinand Oyono (1956)

Egypt:

The Tale of Sinuhe and Other Ancient Egyptian Poems 1940 - 1640 B.C. translated by R.B. Parkinson

Palace Walk by Naguib Mahfouz (1956)

The Sinners by Yusuf Idris (1959)

Woman at Point Zero by Nawal El Saadawi (1975)

The Map of Love by Ahdaf Soueif (1999)

Ghana:

Our Sister Killjoy by Ama Ata Aidoo (1977)

Two Thousand Seasons by Ayi Kwei Armah (1979)

In My Father’s House: Africa in the Philosophy of Culture by Kwame Anthony Appiah (1992)

Guinea:

The Radiance of the King by Camara Laye (1954)

Kenya:

A Grain of Wheat by Ngugi wa Thing'o (1994)

The River and the Source by Margaret A. Ogola (1995)

Libya:

The Bleeding of the Stone by Ibrahim al-Koni (1990)

Mali:

The Fortunes of Wangrin by Amadou Hampâté Bâ (1973)

Nigeria:

The Palm-Wine Drinkard by Amos Tutuola (1952)  

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe (1958)

Efuru by Flora Nwapa (1966)

The Joys of Motherhood by Buchi Emecheta (1979)

Aké: The Years of Childhood by Wole Soyinka (1981)

Sozaboy: A Novel in Rotten English by Ken Saro-Wiwa (1985)

The Famished Road by Ben Okri (1991)

Senegal:

God’s Bits of Wood by Ousmane Sembène (1960)

So Long a Letter by Mariama Bâ (1981)

Somalia:

Maps by Nuruddin Farah (1986)

South Africa:

When Rain Clouds Gather by Bessie Head (1969)

Fools and Other Stories by Njabulo S. Ndebele (1986)

Sudan:

Season of Migration to the North by Tayeb Salih (1966)

Tunisia:

The Colonizer and the Colonized by Albert Memmi (1957)

Zimbabwe:

The House of Hunger by Dambudzo Marechera (1978)

Nervous Conditions by Tsitsi Dangarembga (1988)

Miscellaneous Africa:

The Granta Book of the African Short Story edited by Helon Habila (2011)

The Penguin Book of Modern African Poetry edited by Gerald Moore and Ulli Beier (1963)

AMERICAS:

Antigua and Barbuda:

A Small Place by Jamaica Kincaid (1988)

Argentina:

Ficciones by Jorge Luis Borges (1944)

Hopscotch by Julio Cortázar (1963)

The Museum of Eterna’s Novel (The First Good Novel) by Macedonio Fernández (1967)

Kiss of the Spider Woman by Manuel Puig (1976)

The Sixty-Five Years of Washington by Juan José Saer (1985)

How I Became a Nun by César Aira (1993)

Thus Were Their Faces by Silvina Ocampo (2015 but written earlier)

Brazil:

Dom Casmurro by Machado de Assis (1900)

Chronicle of the Murdered House by Lúcio Cardoso (1959)

Dona Flor and her Two Husbands by Jorge Amado (1966)

Pedagagy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire (1968)

The Hour of the Star by Clarice Lispector (1977)

Vast Emotions and Imperfect Thoughts by Rubem Fonseca (1988)

Chile:

The Obscene Bird of Night by José Donoso (1970)

Emergency Poems by Nicanor Parra (1972)

The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende (1982)

Colombia:

One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez (1967)

Cuba:

The Kingdom of This World by Alejo Carpentier (1949)

Cold Tales by Virgilio Piñera (1958)

Dominican Republic:

In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez (1994)

Guatemala:

Men of Maize by Miguel Ángel Asturias (1949)

I, Rigoberta Menchú by Rigoberta Menchú (1985)

Guadalupe (part of France but overseas):

I, Tituba, Black Witch of Salem by Maryse Condé (1986)

Haiti:

Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwige Danticat (1994)

Jamaica:

No Telephone to Heaven by Michelle Cliff (1987)

The True History of Paradise by Margaret Cezair-Thompson (1999)

Martinique (part of France but overseas):

Discourse on Colonialism by Aimé Césaire (1950)

Wretched of the Earth by Frantz Fanon (1961)

Poetics of Relation by Édouard Glissant (1997)

Mexico:

Pedro Páramo by Juan Rulfo (1955)

Aura by Carlos Fuentes (1962)

The Hole by José Revueltas (1969)

Underground River and Other Stories by Inés Arredondo (1979)

The Collected Poems, 1957-1987 by Octavio Paz (1987)

Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel (1989)

Nicaragua:

Azul by Rubén Darío (1888)

Peru:

The Cardboard House by Martín Adán (1928)

The Time of the Hero by Mario Vargas Llosa (1962)

The Complete Poems by César Vallejo (1968)

St. Lucia:

Omeros by Derek Walcott (1990)

Trinidad and Tobago:

The Black Jacobins: Toussaint L'Ouverture and the San Domingo Revolution by C.L.R. James (1938)

A House for Mr. Biswas by V.S. Naipaul (1961)

Uruguay:

Open Veins of Latin America by Eduardo Galeano (1971)

Venezuela:

Doña Bárbara by Rómulo Gallegos (1929)

Indigenous Writers from Canada and the United States:

American Indian Stories by Zitkála-Šá (Dakota) (1921)

Winter in the Blood by James Welch (Blackfeet and A’aninin) (1974)

Emplumada by Lorna Dee Cervantes (Chumash) (1982)

She Had Some Horses by Joy Harjo (Mvskoke) (1982) 

Love Medicine by Louise Erdrich (Chippewa) (1984)

Ceremony by Leslie Marmon Silko (Laguna Pueblo) (1986)

Custer Died for Your Sins by Vine Deloria Jr. (Dakota) (1988)

The Grass Dancer by Susan Power (Dakota) (1997)

Miscellaneous Americas:

And We Sold the Rain: Contemporary Fiction from Central America edited by Rosario Santos (1988)

Short Stories by Latin American Women: The Magic and the Real edited by Celia Correas de Zapata (2003)

Bordering Fires: The Vintage Book of Contemporary Mexican and Chicana and Chicano Literature edited by Cristina García (2006)

[alreadyblondenow]

Whenever the sun is hiding

“And I wish that she’s you. If we have met a little bit sooner I’d marry you. Why can’t it be you?”

Pairing: General!Kun x warrior!female reader, Mulan AU, enemies to lovers Genre: SMUT, FLUFF, angst? WC: 3,750k Warnings: this story is so asian because it is a Mulan AU, this is a time where women are allowed to be warriors, mentions of heavy training bc they’re warriors, cheating but... youll get it once you read it, unprotected sex, mentions of fingering, mentions of Kun fantasizing about the reader fucking him, fingering, a lot of kisses, slight exhibitionism, mentions of other idols A/N: NOT PROOFREAD. I’ll fix it once I have time. I just watched the new Mulan movie, (yes the one that was boycotted) and it was amazing. To the one who requested this... I’m sorry if you’re not asian, :( but I hope you still read and love this.

Under the scorching sun in the middle of summer, warriors are trained to be prepared of what lies ahead. The power of the enemy is quickly growing by every second and the young warriors of China, and it’s very young, new and ambitious general is not going to slack off until his nation is safe.

That is why he is very hard and strict with how he teaches the warriors assigned to him. So strict that every woman in his battalion went home after the first few days of training. Except you.

It is your incredible will and perseverance to bring honor to your family that’s making you stay and helping you go through each hard training everyday. And who would have thought that your perseverance and driven soul will make general Qian Kun hate you to the core.

But that’s not the only reason why he hates you.

One beautiful night after your night duty when you thought everyone was asleep, you took a bath on the river and enjoyed your time alone. Releasing your feminine side by smiling while watching the moon, catching flowers that fell on water and tuck one behind your ears. You were beautiful, the general thought.

So beautiful that he almost did not realized that he was peeking now and accidentally saw your breasts the moment you went out of water. He then quickly hid behind a big rock, careful not to make a sound and careful not to be caught. That night, he touched himself while thinking about you.

And that is why general Qian Kun hated you. Because despite being a successful general in his very young age, he’s still a man who can’t have a decent fuck when he sure knew he needed one. You make him sin even though he’s already engaged and every time he touch himself with you in his mind, he will always feel so guilty afterwards.

Who wouldn’t hate you for that?

“Wake up, wake up my general”

There’s that soft toned wake up call again with a faint image of a woman on top of him, blurry because of the sunlight behind her that hurts Kun’s eyes and made him squint, but he knew he was dreaming.

And then he woke up.

It’s that dream again. The dream of his future wife who had been matched to him a day before he left for his duty as general. What a pity. It doesn’t look that much, but Kun was so excited to meet her in person. But the girl has been visiting her in his dreams, and that’s why he knew that this marriage is a good idea. This marriage will be beautiful, she will be beautiful and he will have a quiet married life after this duty of his.

Kun got up from his comfort and asked his assistant if you had gone home already and coward away. “No general, Y/n was seen during the morning run,” the soldier answered.

“Bring her to me, I want to talk to her,” Kun ordered and then stretched is body before putting on his robe and sit on his chair, waiting for your presence.

“General, L/N Y/N is here,” the soldier announced and Kun commanded you to enter right away.

It was nice on the generals tent, cozy and not hot like the tent you use together with the others. His things were neatly placed, and he is staring right at you now.

“From now on you will go last with everything. Last in line, last to shower, last to rest after training. Except during meals, you’re first during meals but don’t eat with other men. Are we clear?”

“Yes sir!” Of course it was clear to you but you never know why? Did you do something wrong?

But the real reason is, after what happened the other night, the incident in the river, Kun can’t risk the other men to be distracted by you. Some men in the battalion are already matched and ready to marry when they get home, just like him. So he can’t tolerate sin now and raise cheaters during this training .

Or maybe he simply just wanted to protect you.

For you it’s alright if you’re always last, what’s more important is you’re not last when it comes to skills and fighting. You were always doing great in the field, and the general was always impressed by what you’re showing. He just can’t say it out loud because it will hurt his pride. But who cares if he agrees, you’re not giving up and that’s what’s important.

Knowing that you’re last to take a shower and to clean yourself in the river, Kun can’t contain himself even though he has been avoiding you for weeks now. Yes. Weeks. But all his great efforts are coming to waste because at the end of the day, he will end up thinking about you and well, fantasize about you fucking him instead of resting.

“Maybe you like her and deep inside it’s not just weird fantasies after all,” the second general, Lucas, said to Kun while he is busy washing his hair.

“Did you forget that I’m matched already and she’s waiting for me to return home?” Kun frustratingly answered back.

“No, I did not forget that. But you don’t know this fiancé of yours, and you have never seen her or touched her,”

“Sure I did. In my dreams”

“That doesn’t count you moron. Look, if fantasising is not enough for you maybe just ask her-“

“You’re the moron, you know I can’t do that. I can lose my rank as general,”

“Let me finish first” Lucas held up his big hand and waited his friend to shut up, “Ask her truthfully, be clear with your intentions. After all, she’s a girl too and maybe she needs what you have been wanting too,” Lucas explained and left for he is done taking a bath.

Turns out Lucas was right. Whenever you take a bath in the river alone, and made sure that no one is watching, you touch yourself quickly and relieve your stress in a corner. Imagining a man whose fingers are deep inside you and imagining that you two are in a hurry so others won’t catch you.

Then after a good orgasm, you just feel silly and desperate. Why do I do this to myself, you murmured.

“Next time do it behind that rock,”

A familiar voice startled you and instantly made you shy. Did he saw you touch yourself? How much did he saw or hear? Why is he here? Did he do this on purpose? Of all people, why the general?

“I’m sorry general. I should get going...” you said with shy eyes, covering your still wet body with your thin robe and avoiding the general’s gaze that melts you instantly.

“Can you join me?” he stopped you from walking away from him, holding you by the elbow. A gesture that you can read easily. The general is not joking and he meant every word he said.

By the time he left you to go in the middle of the river, you haven’t made up your mind but you aren’t leaving yet as if you wanted to accept his offer and see what goes after. What are expecting? A kiss? A good talk? A good fuck? Why does he want me to join him?

All these questions ran through your mind as you slowly untie your robe and let it fall on the ground, walking slowly towards to the handsome man waiting for you under the moon and stars in the middle if a cold river.

Whatever happens, happens.

“So this is your decision?” He asked you calmly, with a soft smile that you have never seen him wear. “We will never speak of this whenever the sun is up,”

You nodded slowly and he came close, grabbing you by the waist and lifting you underwater so you could lock your legs around him.

“Tell me, are you matched?” he asked, looking so handsome in his damped hair.

“I am,” you answered weakly but you already got lost in his eyes.

“All the more reason to hide what we have,” he said and started kissing your neck that felt so good. Suddenly the cold water became warm, or that’s just Kun sharing an unfamiliar heat to you.

Slowly, he walked towards the big rock he talked about earlier. Feeling the water gush to your body and his hand soothing your butt underwater while making small talk. Everything feels so wrong but so good at this moment that you can only let out soft moans and listen to his groans as he was busy kissing you and kept on touching your body. Kissing your breast and licking your nipples like you were some kind of cold treat on a summer day, and you did not miss how his tongue felt around your sensitive areas.

“General-“

“Kun. Call me Kun whenever were alone,” he whispers and started nibbling your earlobe. His hands started to roam on your inner thighs, holding you with one hand and readying himself to make his first move. “Don’t make a sound,” he said and kissed you on the lips. Deep and with tongue that you became speechless and all you can do is shut your eyes close and feel this two fingers go inside your cunt. In and out you feel him under water but it sadly it doesn’t do the job.

“I think it’s the water,” he stopped and groaned quietly, his frustration was obvious. Is he really desperate to fuck tonight? “Let’s go to my tent, what do you think?” he asks you.

“N-no. That’s too much. We can get caught, I think I’m fine for tonight-“

He cut you off with a smirk and chuckle, “No were not. Were not going to get caught and were certainly not yet done for the night, unless you really want to. I can’t force you,” and again, he gave you freedom to choose. But whenever he’s like this you can’t help but feel like you’re throwing yourself to him. You just stared at his eyes and traced his soft lips using your thumb.

“Lead the way,” you said. And you witnessed him smile from ear to ear.

Quiet and very careful, you and Kun walked towards his tent and made sure that no one will see you together. Good thing the coast is clear and if anyones is awake, they should be guarding the place like a hawk. The moment you’re both inside his cozy tent, he blew the candle so no one would see your silhouettes, and of course, you did not make any sound.

He walked you towards his bed and slowly undid your robe, swiftly removing it and making you lie comfortably on his bed. He removed his robe and went on top of you immediately, staying in between your legs while he spreads kisses on your body. But you swear, you wanted to see his cock to inspect whether it’s big or can it fit?

“Don’t worry, you will feel it in a moment. And it will answer all your questions,” he smirked in between kissing your left breast while kneading the other. “Do you like kisses?” He asks as he spreads some around your body all the way down to your cunt, teasing it with a few licks.

“Now I do,” you smiled and answered his question. Reaching for his head to rake away his hair and to see how his tongue works.

Incredible. As expected and you wish you could make a sound.

Kun went back up to you, searching for your eyes under the very minimal light, “You should be kissed often, and by someone who knows how” he whispered and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Is that an invitation for tomorrow night?” You joked and smiled through the feeling of him finally spreading your legs open and making you feel his cock slide up and down your wet slit, again, teasing you and preparing you for what’s yet to come.

“If you let me kiss you everyday then I’m considered the luckiest man on Earth”

Such sweet words you thought. But such sweet words are not easily said if you don’t like the person you’re with. In other words, you don’t know if he actually mean it or is he just trying to be sweet because he’s about to fuck you senseless now?

“Ugh- it wont go in,” he said frustrated but still quiet. He’s that big and you are that tight.

“Ahh- fuck I wasn’t ready” you almost screamed the moment he put two fingers in your hole to prep you more, making you wetter by every second.

“Fuck its huge,” you informed him when Kun finally manage to put a few inches inside. He just chuckled and lowered himself to kiss your neck, whispering, “its not yet even halfway in,” he said in a very sexy way that just took your breath away.

But before he fucks you properly, he made sure he’s looking directly to you not missing the way you will react when he finally move. And when he finally did you furrowed your brows and parted your lips shamelessly, letting out small sounds that’s for yourselves only. You look and sounded so beautiful and irresistible Kun thought and he knew right then and there that he will be addicted to you. Almost to the point of he can’t let you go.

“Please don’t get me pregnant,” you plead and hold on tightly to his shoulders and kiss him even more deeply.

“I wont” he said and spread your legs even more for a new angle. Finally giving you hard and piercing thrust that you don’t have any choice but to accept them.

The night continued as you two forget the world outside the tent. He did a lot of things to you. Completely maximizing his time before the sun appears. After the first wave of your sexual activity, to your surprise he flipped you on your stomach and made you arched your back beautifully. Spreading kisses on your back while he kneads your breast from behind, pinching your nipples and giving them a great squeeze from time to time... as he fucks you harder from behind that if anyone is listening outside they will already know what you two are doing in the dark.

And just as you thought that he’s done with you, for his final move tonight, his grand finale, he made you cum using his tongue with two fingers inside your cunt and his other hand busy kneading one of your breast.

“Your legs are shaking uncontrollably, are you fine?” He was teasing you. If you have the energy to punch him you would gladly do it but now you really can’t.

While you two were enjoying the quietness of the night, you snuggle beside Kun while he wraps his arms around you. Both staring blankly in the ceiling and both replaying what happened earlier in your minds.

“I don’t feel guilty, I hope you do too” he said out of nowhere.

“Surprisingly I don’t feel guilty either,” you tighten your embrace to him.

“Is that an acceptance for my invitation for tomorrow night?” He smiled. You didn’t answer him for it was far too obvious already.

By the time you and Kun parted ways before the sun comes up, you both instantly felt incomplete. Why? You managed to get back to your tent quietly and went to sleep immediately, Kun did the same thing but right now as you sleep like a baby, Kun was having a nightmare.

Not exactly a nightmare. But it was for Kun. His fiancé visited him again in his dreams, and even though he knew it was just a dream, he still felt ashamed that he cheated.

On the next day, as expected he was back on his usual cold and strict image like he wasn’t inside you last night. But as much as everything was bothering you and your mind was out of focus the whole day, you didn’t let your guard down still did what you had to do during your training.

“A fucking tiring day don’t you think?” Your friend Hendery whined and flopped to his side of the bed. “You were out late last night. Stargazing again?”

“Y-yes, I saw different stars last night,” you said with a smirk, confident that your friend won’t get it.

And as you did stargazed near the river that night and endured the cold, you waited for a pair of arms to finally keep you warm. And his lips, to kiss your tiredness away. But to your disappointment, he never came.

He didn’t came the next night. Or the night after that. And even the following nights. Until you got the news that he left the camp and went back to the city for serious business for a few days.

“You were just a past time Y/n. The general played you and how come you were such a fool believing that he actually like you” you frustratingly murmured to yourself while you thrown rocks at the river angrily.

“Tss. You should be kissed often, and by someone who knows how” you said mimicking his words before throwing another rock, “where’s my fucking kisses now!”

“I can give them to you know if you want it,”

Finally, the person you hated so much showed up. “Well, it’s too late- general, welcome back” you bowed and gave him respect even though you know he don’t deserve it.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t be like that,” he let go of his horse and reached out to you for a hug but you avoided his touch. “Let me explain and let me make it up to you,”

You shook your head ‘no’ without looking at him. And Kun knew that this was his last card, his last chance to make it right. “I like you and that’s the truth. I realized that now during our time away, and I understand why you feel like this. I’m sorry. Will you please forgive me,”

“You’re general Qian Kun, don’t beg for my forgiveness-“

“I’m not a general right now, I’m just a normal man asking for forgive to the girl I like,” he breathed in deeply and let it out heavily, “My guilt got the best in me for the past days but now... it’s clear that I can’t lose you. Not yet and not like this”

After that night, better days came in, forgiveness was given and everything felt a lot lighter. You and Kun stopped fucking just for the sake of feeding each other’s lust and actually taking time building your relationship. Secretly. But you told him that when it’s time to go home, you should part ways and bring honor to your families by marrying the people waiting for the both of you. He did not answer you.

Of course that didn’t stop Kun from falling in love, because even though you two are in the middle of a war zone and a very sticky situation, it was a beautiful time to be in love.

And when the war between the enemies was settled, Kun wasn’t so happy upon hearing the news because this means its time to go home and get married.

After you and Kun made love in his tent for a couple of times tonight, with tired and sweaty bodies you did not care and still cling to each other.

“Tell me about your match, is he handsome like me?” He asked you out of nowhere which is alarming because he never opened this kind of topic before.

“I haven’t seen him. I left before I could meet him. But I heard that he’s brave and he can do a lot of things and that he loves his mother very much.

How about yours?”

“I don’t know anything about her she visits me in my dreams but I never see her face clearly,”

“And?” you asked because it’s obvious that he’s holding something back.

“And I wish that she’s you. If we have met a little bit sooner I’d marry you. Why can’t it be you?”

“Why? because of sex?” You asked slightly offended.

“No, no don’t get me wrong I think about you even when the sun is shining brightly in the sky or whenever you have clothes on or your body is covered in armor and your face is full of dirt. I admire your natural strength and drive.”

“This is wrong. We agreed to go home with honor” you turned your back against him and thought about what he said.

“Tell me why is this wrong? We love each other-“

“Were engaged to different people... Kun, are you hearing yourself”

“You don't marry someone you can live with, you marry the person you cannot live without and Y/n, I can’t live without you” he explained sternly. Already mad but that didn’t stopped him from covering your exposed body with his blanket and leave a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“This right here, what we have now, it’s everything I wanted and more. In fact, I could die right now, Y/n. I'm just... happy. I've never felt this before. I'm just exactly where I want to be” he whispered but he sounded so frustrated still. “In the end I’ll respect your decision. But I’m not marrying someone I don’t know, someone that’s not you, I would rather die in war,”

If Kun was being honest, he thought you would chose him over someone you don’t know. He was beyond heartbroken when you told him you wanted to go home and thanked him for everything that he taught you in the field. Not even one mention of the special things you shared whenever the sun is hiding. And on top of that, you called him general before you say your goodbye.

And on your wedding day. You were wearing a traditional chinese wedding dress and wearing a beautiful smile because finally you will meet what your ancestors have matched you with.

But just like that cold night beside the river, you waited and waited and waited.... for nothing. For your groom did not show up.

For Kun did not attend his own wedding not knowing that you were the bride.

You were both completely clueless that you were meant to be.

[un-pearable]

OH another very important comment i completely forgot to add: despite the long winded diatribe, i am, actually, having fun with ninjago again and am not dreading clicking the next episode button. im excited to continue watching. which is a definite improvement from like. last week. honestly in my experience some amount of moping and whining and gnashing of teeth is good for the soul. not too much and you cant just sit around and mope all day, but a bit of moping... it does help. i think.

unrelated but regarding your post on comics, technically im coming from a weekly serialized manga perspective but yeah no exactly having something that comes out so frequently produces many opinions all the time. i also feel compelled to talk about these opinions, all the time. i have to say though my sincerest condolences for being in the dc fandom. from the handful of posts ive seen from you it looks ... frustrating

hell yeah!! the good ol whine and dine (on fic) strategy to get you excited again

on the topic of comics,,, yeah. yeah. its really annoying bc its the kind of fandom where the last thing I want to do is get involved in discourse but Oh Do I Have Thoughts. and my usual strategy of venting in my small discord is not enough 😔 this next part is a very frustrated vent so uh. under the cut as to not piss off one of the most notorious fandoms of all time that I have Zero interest getting involved in

comics fandom is fucking insane bc anywhere else this isn’t anywhere close to a debate, but here arguing that a character being accurate to canon should be a priority means you’re fighting in the fucking trenches. saying someone should read an arc is a declaration of war with some of these people it’s baffling. why are you here if you don’t care about what actually happens to these characters

it’s completely deranged!!! this isn’t even “oh this particular stuff is treated as non canon bc it portrays the character poorly” it’s literally people BRAGGING about never reading the source material. writing a direct adaptation of the characters debut arc gets you dogpiled by people who think the completely woobified version from their fic is the end all be all characterization. and their one personality trait is an addiction

hate that i do this to myself. i was a part of the sinking ship that was voltron. i witnessed the rise and fall of countless stupid fandoms driven by the fandom’s flanderized dreams and every single time i fall for it. what the hell

it’s the mystery box. it’s getting to the core to see what could have gone well or what the original ideas were or the drama behind it al but EVERY time i burden myself with knowledge and endless frustration and a persistent fear of getting caught up in my own internet drama. agshdjdj