#or whatever art movement/time period

[alicenpai]

princess tutu: die jahreszeiten 🌸

kind of a companion piece to my 2022 ptutu drawing | it's on inprnt

this print was at anime north; next con is otakuthon!

oops so my hand slipped and i made another princess tutu drawing. i admittedly don't watch that much anime so my catalogue of work is gonna be the same 5 animes LMAO. what can i say, i love "dark" fairy tales, and i've been really enjoying the more fine art approach to a lot of my drawings as of late (and the watercolour brush i've been using has been so perfect for that...!)

as my first princess tutu drawing is now 2 years old, there are some areas i've grown to have ... qualms with... although both drawings as a whole are pretty much exactly what i envisioned, and that's always satisfying!

both of these were drawn in roughly a week's time (yes really...) for con crunch period (and i went back to this drawing after the con to touch up some areas that were a bit rough!). i wanted a different approach to this new pt drawing, with the focus on the line work, rather than on colours and lighting in the 2022 drawing.

this drawing had 2 goals: to continue the style i adopted in my witch hat atelier "lantern bearers" drawing (which i promise i'll post in full soon as soon as all of the zine artists get their go-ahead to post their pieces!), and to emulate the art nouveau movement's heavy emphasis on line work, albeit not a 1:1 style replication of course.

the seasons also aren't a 1:1 representation, as i didn't necessarily pick flowers or colours that are most strongly associated with the season (e.g. summer being a dark tone is a bold choice?). but it's kinda whatever, as i said before i drew this in a week, there may be more appropriate flowers with better meanings. i couldn't spend too too much time drafting and researching.

FLOWER SYMBOLISM:

- spring: apple blossoms, tulips - the apple blossom is a quintessential spring flower, and thus symbolize the arrival of spring. spring is a season of change, which ahiru/princess tutu is a force of, instigating change in her friends and unravelling the story around her. the flowers below her are tulips, and there are many meanings to tulips depending on the colour, due to their ubiquitous nature. i narrowed on one, and intended for them to symbolize happiness. princess tutu's pose is one in which that is open, inviting, and warm - reflecting her nurturing nature in the series, and her willingness to help others achieve happiness.

- summer: deadly nightshade flower, yellow rose - i chose for rue/princess kraehe to symbolize a fiery summer's night instead of the typical dazzling heat of a summer's day, a rather bold and unusual choice. the warmth of sunshine didn't quite fit, as the character is quite dramatic and passionate, with her intentions often hidden in shadow. next, the deadly nightshade - atropa belladonna - has a lot of mythological associations, a lot to do with poisoning, as the flower is toxic. the flowers bloom at night (another reason why i picked a nighttime backdrop for "summer") and also outwardly match rue's dark design scheme, as the cherry on top. yellow roses, at the bottom of her frame, are the archetypal flower depicting jealousy (as with many yellow flowers are), and at one point in the story, rue only wished for her own happiness at the misfortune of others.

- autumn: douglas fir needles, orange calla lily - autumn is another season of change - although much more tumultuous, as this season is traditionally taken to prepare for a long winter ahead - fitting for fakir as the role of the storyteller. the douglas fir is not a flower of course, but is a tree - with many different parts of this tree offering many benefits in advance of the winter season. i wanted the versatile nature of the douglas fir to reflect on fakir's dependable personality. next up, the calla lily is a flower with a dual meaning - on one hand you have life, on the other you have death. a storyteller quite literally can grant both at the tip of their fingers.

- winter: birch tree, snowdrop - winter is a rather still and unchanging season, a lull in the passage of time. this symbolizes mytho's passive nature at the start of the series, especially with his doleful pose here, as if almost in hibernation. to contrast, mytho is perched on the branches of a birch tree, which means new beginnings and renewal - as mytho is one of the characters that undergo the most change throughout the series (i'd argue the most?), regaining pieces of his heart. under mytho's frame is the snowdrop flower - and if you've read my witch hat atelier: seasons piece symbolisms, one of the snowdrop's meanings is rebirth, with connotations to the bible, bringing hope, when all had forsaken eve. the snowdrop is one of the first flowers to bloom even when the snow has not yet fully melted, further echoing mytho as an analogy for rebirth.

[itstheghostofmypast]

Tender Love

Idol Wooyoung x (F)Reader

Summary: His girl really was a work of art, knew all the ways to surprise him and make him feel loved.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.3K

Est. Read Time: 11 min

Warnings: 🚨PERVERT WOOYOUNG🚨, a lot of skinship (Nothing smexy tho)?

Rating: Mature

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: I'm so glad @edenesth kept this Woo pic for research purposes. Hey, ya'll should've seen it coming, we got a Sannie period fic- we were definitely going to get a Woo one too.

Wooyoung walked down the hallway to his room, humming to himself. Since he was alone in the dorm,he could practically walk around naked if he wanted to, not that he did, but he COULD. Anyway, he had just come back after a much-needed lap around the pool, he was alone and somewhat in pain, which is why he decided to follow the instructions of his physiotherapist. Swimming loosened his muscles, and helped with the aches as well, though the smell of the chlorine was the only thing he dreaded.

Opening the door of his bedroom, he walked in, took off his shirt and tossed it somewhere in the room, only for it to land on his bed. He was busy sifting through his cupboard when he froze, an uncharacteristic form of movement catching his eye, hands still stuffed in his closet, he watched from his peripheral, the lump of the blankets he had left on the bed this morning slithered closer to where his shirt was, a hand creeping out from under the covers, clawing at the cotton before snatching it and engulfing it. What the actual hell!?

Did someone break in? Does he call the manager? The sun-kissed skin male creeped closer to his bed, watching whatever was under the blanket move around, a faint whimpering muffled by the rustling of the sheets could be heard, the springs of his bed, creaking in the same horror that led the sweaty-palmed boy to grip the edge of the blanket with trembling fingers.

Maybe watching horror movies alone for a whole weekend was not a good idea. In reality, he had called over someone else too, but his usual company was busy, told him he'd have to spend the weekend alone, and he did, he spent Friday night alone, even Saturday night too- and look where that got him, facing the new monster that hid under his blanket, possibly a psycho stalker, a parasocial fan very much ready to kill-

"YAH!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, ripping the blanket off the intruder,and eliciting a scream from the intruder.

Standing there he blinked at her, not something he'd ever expect to see -not that he didn't welcome the sight, but it was...odd?

"Stop staring!" She hissed trying to quickly pull the shirt -his shirt- over her head, not sure if she was embarrassed because he had caught her half undressed in his blanket or because of her flashy pink bra- though she couldn't come up with an answer when he gripped her wrist, restraining her movement.

"Why have I never seen this before- have you been holding out on me!?" He screeched as she huffed, snatching her wrist out of his grasp and sitting up to push the shirt all the way down, ignoring his incessant whines and pleas.

"Don't be stupid, and hand me your sweatpants or something, I need to change out of my jeans."

"I'm not sure if I should be turned on, or concered by this strange behaviour."

"There is nothing sexy," grumbling she unbuttoned her pants, trying to kick them off, simultaneously kicking the blanket away as well, "About getting your period while sitting- ugh!" She grunted before letting out a whine, flopping on her back as she stared up at the ceiling in defeat, fine she'd just lay here, tangled in her jeans and his sheets, wearing his shirt, letting the cramps take over her, closing her eyes as she let out a sigh, "In the bus."

There was a moment of silence settled between the two, honestly she couldn't tell if he had left the room or was staring at her like a creep- wouldn't be surprised if it were the latter, she had realised she was dating a creep pretty early in the relationship. So why was she still with him? Cause he was an idol? Cause he was rich and good-looking? Cause he was famous? No.

Her lips quirked into a small smile, when she felt her jeans slowly peel off her legs, the blanket that was wrapped around her leg was gently pulled away, causing her to shiver slightly at the chill in the air, man he really liked to blast that AC on full. A pair of lips press faintly against hers, only for a moment, this is why she was still with him, her eyes opening to be graced by the face of an angel, a gentle smile, a chuckle ringing in her ears like a symphony she had been too woeful and in need of- because Jung Wooyoung, was perhaps the most caring, selfless and loving person she had ever met.

He hummed to himself, fingers caressing down her thigh to her knee, tapping her knee aimlessly before he walked over to his closet, going back to his original task. Though this time he managed to obtain the items required, humming his way across the room he turned on the small desk lamp, before turning off the bright light, knowing well how pain causes heightened sensitivity to light, and nothing was going to trigger his baby.

"You need help putting them on?" He asked, showing her the sweatpants, though his eyes never met hers, too focused on another part to notice her face-

"Woo?"

"Hmm?"

"Stop staring at my underwear-"

"You can't wear a set that hot and- wait." Frowning he knelt down, grabbing her ankle, about to lift her leg watching her pull the shirt down and pull her legs away, shaking her head at him, gesturing for the pants, "Why are you wearing such a set- no- why are you here!?"

Sighing she gently rolled off the bed, planting her feet on the cold ground, a hand reaching out to keep her balance, one that was gingerly accepted by his bigger one, smiling down at her when she looked up at him all doe eyed and confused, giving her the signature Wooyoung giggle, followed by a, "Don't worry, I got you baby."

Mumbling a thanks, she put on the pants quickly, hoping he couldn't see an inch of her pad, even for a second - not that he'd mind it, but it was embarrassing. With a sigh she sat back down, turning to look at him, as she began to speak, "Since I couldn't come during the weekend, because of stupid work, I wanted to make it up to you by surprising you today, but on my way here I got my period, " she mumbled, speaking much like how her lover had a while back, staring not at his face, but at the alluring tan expanse of his chest, eying the tattoo, she often wondered if it hurt while he got it done, "luckily I was wearing an emergency one...but I had to change as soon as I came here and I couldn't find you anyway and well, it hurt a lot and I saw your bed so...that's how you found me."

Shaking his head in disbelief, he moved closer to cup her face, angling her head up to meet her eyes, "My eyes are up here...you perv." He smirked, earning an eyeroll before he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, turning to leave, "I'll be back with a quick shower-" his words were cut short when she gripped his wrist, her nails leaving small crescents, as she looked up at him, "Stay."

"I smell like chlorine, love, I'll be back before you know it-"

"Please."

.

That's how Wooyoung found himself laying on his side, an arm lazily placed over her waist, the other folded and tucked under his head, while her finger outlined the tattoo on his chest, yes she had asked him to not put his shirt on, not for any perverse reason, mind you, she just liked how warm he was- that was all. He was the weird one, staring at her with an unsettling smile.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Her words were but a whisper, enough for something to tingle down his spine, an involuntary shiver causing him to press his fingertips against her lower back, causing her to let out a sigh at the pleasant pressure.

"That you were wearing something so hot, all for me."

"Oh my god," she sighed, "Yes, I, a grown woman who wanted to spend some quality time with my boyfriend, who till last notice was a fully grown man and not a horny teenager, wore something he'd like." Meeting his eyes she couldn't help but blush at the way he shamelessly stared at her, before his eyes turned into pleased crescents, crinkling at the ends due to the smile that stretched across his face- man, the things he'd do to her.

"Too bad it was ruined, though." Moving closer, she mumbled, pressing her face into his neck, hugging him closer, her fingers gently scratching the nape of his neck, tempted to trail lower to trace the ink.

"What are you talking about?" He sighed, basking in the attention; honestly he had assumed that he'd need to pamper her now, make her tea, bring her something to eat and end up massaging her back, a monthly ritual that he had introduced in their relationship, the first time he'd seen how she'd go pale in pain during the time of the month. What he did not expect however was for her to be all over him like this, perhaps a bit more touchy than he usually was, letting him feel every inch of her, mind you, not everywhere, she'd become as feral as a feline if he touched the no go areas during shark week, but having her pressing against him, tangled under his blanket, having her trail her lips up the column of his jaw, only to end up, pecking the tip of his nose, smiling at him all cute and flushed, with tinted cheeks and a crazy bedhead, on a Sunday evening, no, he did not expect this at all-

"Woo."

"Hmmm?" He asked, staring up at her, admiring the way the warm, dim light accentuated her beauty, fingers feeling her warmth under the cotton, giving it a little squeeze, earning a stutter in response, "W-when I said unclip it, I didn't mean have your way."

"Did they grow big-"

"Sometimes they swell up and become sensitive." She cut him off before pulling back, flopping down beside him as she skillfully took off the undesired, itchy and irritating pink garment he seemed to have liked so much, slipping it out from under the shirt and holding it up, glaring at it in disgust, though her partner next to her was still amazed by how women do this, more importantly he wanted to know more about the fact that he had just learnt, so he watched her toss it across his room, landing somewhere with a soft thud, not that he cared, no one was home so no one could barge in.

Turning to her side, she faced away from him, a soft sigh escaping her when he hugged her, pressing himself against her as he placed a leg on hers, the weight helping with the pain.

It was peaceful...for a good minute before his sneaky hand decided to "conduct an experiment for research purposes"-

"Stop!" She whined, pushing his hand away, huffing when he placed his chin on her shoulder, his cheek pressing against hers, "Does it hurt?"

"Somewhat, yeah!" She mumbled, ignoring him when he hummed seriously in return, her clown was clowning around and she didn't want to partake in his circus for the-

"JUNG WOOYOUNG!"

Her shriek was followed by a sharp smack, earning a whine from the man who pulled back and pouted at her all cute, "Why'd you do that." He asked, referring to the slap his hand had received as he gently rubbed over the stinging skin.

"Because I said no, you moron."

"It was for research purposes! For science! My hand wasn't even in your shirt!"

"I know how scientific you are, and how much you love your research, but unless you want me to leave-"

"No!" He gasped, pouncing at her, rolling them around on his bed causing her to laugh but also let out a whine, asking him to stop, only he did, but this time he was completely wrapped around her. His face buried in her shoulder, arms holding her close, his legs tangled with hers, both wrapped- trapped- in well, most of the bedsheets and blanket, god knows where the pillows were too.

"See, you can get all the love you want," she giggled, fingers carding through his hair as she tugged on it, making sure her grip wasn't hard enough to hurt him, but enough for him to tilt his head up and look at her "If you behave."

"You're very bossy for someone who came to give me her unconditional love."

"You're very touchy for someone who claims to treat his lover with care."

"I am treating you with care." He smiled at her, looking at her dead in the eye before he pressed his forehead against hers, the tip of his nose poking hers, causing her to raise a brow at him, though her heart began to beat like crazy, only leaving her to hope he couldn't hear the passion and admiration that flowed within her for him, "I'm treating you with all the care and," he whispered, his hand slowly maneuvered around her, placing it on the 'subject area', not that she noticed, she was too distracted by him, noting how his lips were barely a few inches away from hers, only to let out a whine when he finished his statement and gave her an experimental squeeze, "tender love."

Wooyoung learnt two things that night as he laughed through the pain, running out of the room -yelling about how he'd take a quick shower then get her something to eat- a hand pressed against his stinging cheek. Firstly, women tend to get all sensitive and tender all over during their period and secondly, his girl could swing like a champion, probably enough to break a jaw- he sure loved his strong, independent, sensitive lady, who would probably require more than just a nice meal to forgive him, perhaps a back rub, or more? Didn't matter, for Jung Wooyoung, lived to please his princess.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25 @s-h-y-a

[ghostbeam]

1.3k words Bakugou Katsuki x reader, aged up characters, Bakugou is an art student, a little angsty, he’s kind of a huge asshole in this at some point but he’s kind of just trying to get under reader’s skin, I’m so out of practice in writing him I hope it’s okay, set in the same universe as my charcoal artist!Dabi and oil painter!Tomura, sorry if this sucks and is pretentious

Bakugou’s studio is impeccable. 

Everything has a place. His tools are all lined up, hammers and chisels and rasps all hanging from nails stuck into a large board on a wall. Beneath them are three tool carts filled with various electric saws and files, all placed meticulously. Besides that is a hand truck, you assume for moving the bigger sculptures he works on. He has one corner of the room reserved for all of his statues and uncarved stones, the largest ones pushed towards the back. The smallest stones and sculptures sit on tables near by, all set—what you have to guess—an inch apart from one another. There’s a standing desk with shelves of art books and comics beneath it. The entire middle of the room is covered in a tarp that looks immaculate, like he’s never worked a day in his life on top of it, though you know that’s not true judging from the half finished giant stone sitting atop of the clean tarp, tools sitting on the last step of the stool he’s using to reach the top of the sculpture. It’s draws your eyes immediately upon walking in—the stone that looks as though something is crawling from inside of it. 

The last wall is covered in brown sketching paper, three rolls of it mounted on one side so that it can be stretched across the entirety of the wall. The paper is filled with a multitude of sketches and scribbles, notes scrawled across that you can barely read due to the obvious urgency they were written with. 

Being inside of his studio feels personal—intimate—like you’re taking a peak inside of his brain, but Bakugou doesn’t seem to mind. Tearing your eyes away from the giant in the middle of the room, you watch him bring an extra stool to the table he’s cleared for the two of you to work on. 

The project is simple. You’re both meant to agree on one artist with an emphasis on a single medium of theirs. Both a seven slide powerpoint and a six page essay are due about the topic. Bakugou was assigned to be you’re partner. Despite his obvious bad attitude and the constant frown he wears, he was surprisingly open to working with you. You let him pick the artist, but he wouldn’t let you leave without choosing the medium. So even though your interest in your major is slowly deteriorating, you chose the first one that came to mind. 

So now you sit in Bakugou’s studio (brain, heart, soul), listening to him as he explains the importance of your artist during their time period, eyes flickering between the text in your book and the stone in the middle of the room. 

“Stop.” Bakugou’s voice snaps you out of the trance you’re in, swiveling your stool between the textbook in front of you and the stone to your right. You feel his hand come down on your knee, pausing your movements so that you’re facing him. 

“Huh?” You ask, eyeing the size of his hand on your leg. 

“Moving back and forth like that. It’s distracting.” Distracting. If only he knew how distracting his giant stone with the person/monster/angel crawling up out of it has been for you. 

“What is it?” You ask him, spinning your stool again so that you’re facing the unfinished sculpture. His hand slips from your knee. 

He glances at it for a moment before shrugging, “I dunno yet.”

“What do you mean?” You ask him.

“Exactly what I said.” He sighs, already annoyed with the conversation. “I don’t know what it is yet. I have to keep going until I—”

“Free it.” You interrupt, eyes still on the stone. “Until you free whatever’s inside, right.”

He’s quiet for a moment, head turned towards you as you observe his statue. You see him nod out the corner of your eye. “Yeah. I have to free it.”

When you look back at him, there’s an unreadable expression on his face. Gone is the permanent frown across his lips, the harsh line between his eyebrows. You think maybe its curiosity, maybe suspicion. 

What it really is, though, is that Bakugou is suddenly struck with the feeling of being understood. And he didn’t have to tell you a thing. One look at his rocks and you saw it. He’s not sure how to feel.

“I used to feel like that.” You tell him. His frown returns. You recognize that feeling, like something deep inside is screaming to get out, that feeling that you have to set it free or it’ll die inside of you. You used to feel that way every time you pushed your brush into a blank canvas. 

“But you don’t anymore.” He gathers. There’s a harshness to his voice, almost angry, but not angry at you—angry for you. 

“I think I lost it. I think art school sucked the life out of me.” Whatever spark you had died inside of you like you always worried it would. 

“That’s bullshit.” He tells you. He stands from his stool and pulls you up with him. He drags you to the giant stone in the middle of the room, and up close you can see the cross hatching he’s done to it at the top where the limbs seem to start. “You can’t keep your eyes off of this. It’s making you feel something.”

“It doesn’t make me feel anything anymore. You’re just talented.” You shrug.

“I know I’m talented.” He scoffs. “That’s not what you care about. You care that she gets out. You care that I turn this cold, unforgiving piece of solid fucking rock into something beautiful.”

“Or horrifying.” 

“It’s not gonna be horrifying.” He speaks, his lips close to your ear as he keeps you turned toward the stone. 

“You said you don’t know until it’s done.” You shiver.

“No, you said that.”

“You didn’t disagree.”

“Stop fucking—” He sighs loudly from behind you. “Yes, freeing it is a part of it. But I already know what it becomes. I knew the moment I hauled that fucking stone into this room. And you know it too.”

You don’t think you do, but Bakugou says this to you with such conviction, you think you believe him. You turn around, breaking yourself from the hypnosis the rock has put you under. 

“I thought it was weird that you didn’t jump at the chance to choose our artist. I had to practically force you to choose the medium. Maybe art school sucked the life out of you, but you let it.” The truth is harsh, makes you flinch away from him, but his hand reaches out for your wrist to bring you back. 

“You don’t have to be so fucking mean.” You wrench your wrist from his grip. 

“You think this is mean?” He spits. “You paint, and you sketch, and if you fuck up, you paint over it or you erase it. If you fuck up with this—” his palm slams against the stone in a loud thud next to your head. “—that’s it. It doesn’t forgive you.”

“So what? I’m some kind of lesser artist cause I don’t chip off pieces of stone? Fuck you.” You push at his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“No, you’re a lesser artist because you gave up.” He takes another step forward, his nose just inches from your own. “Whenever you wanna resurrect whatever the fuck died inside of you, you know where to find me.”

He’s off of you in a second, halfway across the room by the time you catch your breath. Squaring your shoulders, you march your way toward him. You hate that he’s right, even if only a little bit. His sculpture did make you feel something. They all did. You haven’t felt that excitement in such a long time, or that jealous pit in your stomach you used to get whenever someone was so good at something it made you want to be better. You envy him. How could a place that slowly ruined you build and mold a man like him?

“I didn’t give up.” You seethe. He turns towards you, towering over you with that same frown on his face, but his eyes have that familiar look in them from when you spoke about his giant.

“Prove it.”

[trancylovecraft]

can i have yandere kokushibo with a oiran fem reader who is very talented when it comes to singing dancing and arts i want like uh heian period hehe lets just jump back to heian era. sooo here oiran reader likes sakura blossom since kid because it always remind her of her dead mother and when kokushibo kidnapped her and locked her forever in the house he found the oiran reader will also tried to plant sakura blossom outside his house to keep her calm and know that she is still safe or whatever she's still fine

whenever she sees a beautiful sakura blusom (i know this is so random but this is my first time requesting T-T)

(KNY) YANDERE! KOKUSHIBO x READER: Renewal Season

Turn. Left foot. Right foot. Spin. Stray.

The movements of the girls body seemed to flow throughout the crowd like water. Her hips swayed along to the roaring music of the festival.

The people inside bustling crowd around her couldn't help but stop and stare as she danced past them, Only leaving a faint scent of Cherry blossom in her wake.

She gripped a branch of Sakura blossoms, Which in the dance she was doing would usually substitute for Wisteria instead. However the flush pink of the petals set her apart from the other dancers making their way around the festival.

Not to mention her soft voice singing along to the music, Of which one could only hear as she passed by.

The celebrations roared in honour of the announcement of the Heian period. Named after the city the festivities took place in, Heian-Kyo. The capital of Japan had been moved by the emperor Kammu.

So of course the party was in full swing. The courtesan houses that were hosted in the more scummy part of town of course had to take full advantage of this. They sent some of their workers to perform out in the streets to try and attract business.

This included [F/N], The respectable Oiran of the Haruka-House. Who was known for her particular finesse with a koto, Her enticing voice that resonated within your stomach and her particular adoration of Sakura.

She was beautiful, Both in looks, personality and movement. Her hair was decorated with bejewelled pins of all colour, All tied up into a beautiful style pinned up at the top. Her kimono was lined with gold twine and coloured a deep red which swayed about like a hypnotists watch as she moved.

The stares burned into her figure, Warm stares. The made her shift uncomfortably and tried to avert her own gaze away from theirs. She exhaled. You're an Oiran, You should be use to this by now, [F/N].

Push through it, [F/N]. You know exactly why you're doing this.

She swayed around again, Moving throughout the crowd swiftly. The stares only intensified as she went along.

She could pick out a particular stare from wherever it came from, She couldn't tell.

While the crowd's stare was warm, A light boil that made her squirm. The stare she could pick out was hot. Burning hot.

The kind of stare that made a shiver crawl up her back and make her shoulders tighten up in disgust.

She felt uncomfortable from the feeling. As soon as she took another turn she pulled the cherry branch up to her dolled up face and inhaled, Letting the subtle aroma invade and take over her senses as she closed her eyes. Letting the smell swallow her whole.

☆♡☆

The delicate breeze blew over the roseate coloured forest in the neigh afternoon. The light cold wind brushed over the woman's porcelain skin and ran through her hair, Making it sway lightly in the wind.

She examined a branch of the sakura tree's lining the forest and surrounded her families house, Which sat in a clearing on top of a valley overlooking the entire woodland. The house of a modest size, It's windows were open so the spring breeze could envelop the inside rooms and bring about an uplifting mood to the entire family living in it.

There was a rocky stone pathway leading up to the front steps of the house. The rocks that were lodged into the path were jagged and rough. Showing that they haven't been tended to in a good long while.

"Mum! Mum!" A young voice called out in the distance.

The woman looked up from the branch to see her daughter clamber down the porch steps and sprint over to her mothers position at the edge of the hill.

Her mother turned around just in time to see [F/N] jump onto her, Giving her mother a rather aggressive hug.

"Ah! [F/N]" Her mother exclaimed. She looked away from the sakura to look down at her daughter.

"Did I scare you? Did I scare you this time?!" [F/N] giggled. She shook her mother a little in excitement.

Her mother was graced with a small smile and she nodded. "Yes, You got me very good. Gave me the fright of my life, Sweetheart." Her mother laughed and [F/N]'s face lit up with achievement.

"Yay!" [F/N] cried and jumped down from hugging her mother who stumbled from the unexpected movement. The sakura branch she was holding was tugged along with her, Causing her mother to gasp.

"Careful! [F/N]. You almost made me break a branch off." Her mother tutted and went to examine the branch for any damage.

[F/N] pouted.

"I don't get it, Mum. Why do you like the big pink trees so much" She huffed, Stomping her foot.

Despite her mother's constant love and affection [F/N] couldn't help but feel a little envy towards the plants. Her mother adored them and was always the first one out of the house to look at the blooming roseate leaves. Not to mention her kimono was patterned with cherry blossom designs.

Her mother hummed.

"I don't really have a reason why, [F/N]. I don't really need one." She said. Not taking her eyes off the blooming leaves.

"Still! What do they even do?" [F/N] scoffed.

Her mother finally looked away from the leaves and gave her daughter a knowing smile, She sighed and crouched down onto one knee to look at her daughter straight in the eyes.

"Well… The reason they are here is to bring forth spring. As the sakura appear and go they will leave behind green leaves. That's a use, Without them you wouldn't be able to play in the fallen leaves which I know you love so much" Her mother explained. She booped [F/N]'s nose to which she giggled.

"I know, I know! But still. Is that really all?" [F/N] asked. Her mother shook her head.

"Well they also mean things too, [F/N]" She said. [F/N]'s face scrunched up in confusion, But decided to listen along.

"As the blossoms come and go they can symbolise life and the short time we have here." Her mother started, She turned back to the leaves.

"As the sakura tree's disappear in favour of the leaves they come back just as strong the next year meaning renewal." Her mother finished, Her voice filled with wonder.

[F/N] looked up at her mother. The same sense of wonder she felt seemed to rise in [F/N] as well.

"Just as strong?" [F/N] asked.

Her mother nodded and looked down at [F/N] as she smiled.

"Now come on you little rascal, Your father needs to head out to work soon and we better go prepare him breakfast." Her mother laughed and grabbed [F/N]'s little hand. Helping balance her on the heavy rocky pathway she set off.

She stumbled a little on the pathway, Lightly pulling [F/N] in her movements. She sighed.

"Better fix this pathway soon. I swear.. One day me, You or your father will have such a bad trip that our heads will be spinning for days" She complained softly to her daughter.

"Is that something we can do together?" [F/N] asked, Looking into her mothers eyes for the answer.

Her mother smiled.

"We'd be better off to wait until the summer. The petals from the cherry tree's will be an issue when they get onto the path." She explained. [F/N] tilted her head in confusion

"..That means yes, Sweetheart." She confirmed.

"Yay!" The young girl sqeaked.

[F/N] giggled. She followed her mother back to their house as sakura leaves fell from the tree's behind them.

☆♡☆

The festival had ended not so long ago.

While celebrations were still occurring their intensity wasn't as big as it was earlier. [F/N] felt so very tired from the performing, Her muscles ached and her only desire right now was to get an early nights sleep.

Her usual makeup and hair-do she wore was lightly ruffled from the events of the night.

With the calming down of the festivities [F/N] had long ago returned to the house of which she worked. As she entered she couldn't help but notice the rather large crowd at the entrance.

Her performance had done well, Really well. Both her flowing movements and her god-sent voice had attracted a large amount of men to her house, All more than willing to pay for their time with her.

[F/N] gripped the sakura branch tighter. The men had noticed her arrival and had rushed up to her. [F/N] stumbled back from the sudden intrusion as the men crowded around her and started yelling.

"Me first, I got here early and missed out on half the festival for this!"

"No way. I got here way earlier man, Back off"

"Liar!"

One of the men raised a fist and was about to swing it at the other. However a tutting sound rung loud from the far side of the room making the entire crowd drop silent.

Haruka-sama, The woman who owned and managed the house had quieted the crowd.

Haruka-sama was a small old lady who had a rather grouchy face and a greed stronger than any other. Her beady little eyes looked around at the crowd with an opportunistic glare, Similar to how a fox would glare at a defenceless rabbit.

"Step away from the girl now.. Step away!" Haruka said, Pushing her way easily through the crowd of men she grabbed [F/N] by the hand and pulled her out.

She dragged [F/N] to the front of the house and started positioning her body to be straight and proper. As she did [F/N] felt beads of sweat build up on her forehead and her jaw trembling.

Haruka-sama finished dolling [F/N] up. She seen the nervousness on [F/N]'s face before shooting her a warning look. One that [F/N] recognised well.

Pull yourself together, You're the Oiran of this house. Steady that jaw and wipe off the sweat and make me some money.

Despite [F/N]'s dear want to stand up to Haruka-sama, The want to deny all of these men and go to bed. She couldn't, Her contract could be revoked in a moment. She couldn't afford to lose it for a moment.

So instead of speaking up, She clenched her jaw and lightly wiped off the sweat from her brow. Her lips wrenched themselves into a lovely little smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She clasped her hands low and stiffened up her body, Giving her a more mannequin look than human.

Haruka hobbled round to the front of the house and faced the crowd of customers with a wide smile.

"Alright, Alright! It may be closing hours but I'm sure our lovely Oiran here can spare another session, But to decide who gets the slot we'll start a bidding. How about we start at about… 20,776 yen. Any takers?" Haruka called out to the crowd which went wild on the announcement of the bidding.

"25,970!" One of the louder men called out.

"27,701!" Another yelled.

The crowd kept shouting out higher and higher numbers, [F/N] felt her body shake despite her constant effort of steadying herself.

Voices yelled even higher than the numbers as the crowd grew closer to the front of the house.

The customers eyes burned into her like hot coals and she was scrutinized by all in the room. Her clasped hands built up sweat, Her breath steady yet heavy. She tried to look away when the sound of the shoji doors to the house slid open.

"500,000 yen."

The room went silent.

Haruka-sama's beady little eyes widened in shock to the man who had suddenly appeared, The money waved in his hand. Haruka's jaw opened slack.

"Sold!" She screamed, Pointing her finger to man standing in the doorway with the most giddy joy she had felt in years.

[F/N]'s body went rigid. Her mind went wild at the number, 500,00?! Who is this man? Who would want to pay that much just to have a single session with her of all people.

The man was tall, Taller than anyone else in the room. He wore a loose purple nagagi kimono with a intricate hexagonal pattern woven into it, It looked expensive which [F/N] figured. He also wore a dark hakama and a white uwa-obi as a belt tied fit around his waist which also held a katana and sheathe.

His hair was tied up into a pony-tail with spiky tips that faded into red at the ends. She looked to his face, However she was unable to see it as he wore a rather large kama, The typical hat a samurai would wear, That covered his face entirely.

He stood there in the doorway waving the money. And despite his face being covered [F/N] could still feel his stare through the thing… It felt hot.

[F/N] shivered as she remembered it was the same hot feeling from earlier, The man must of been the one looking at her during the festival.

All of crowd from earlier was hushed out of the house by Haruka-sama, Muttering curses to the final bidder who didn't seem to react to any of their words.

Finally when the house was evacuated. All there was left was [F/N], The man and Haruka-sama.

They sat in total silence. [F/N] stared dead eyed at the man, Who seemed to look back at her with that inferno of a gaze. She squirmed under the weight of it.

Suddenly a hand clapped out of nowhere.

They both turned to Haruka. Whose usual grouchy, Scrunched up face was contorted into a wide grin.

"Well then.." She said.

Haruka hobbled over to the sliding shoji door and pulled it open, She bowed down in respect to the man.

"After you."

☆♡☆

The tension in the air was thick, So much so that you could feel it seep into your skin.

The room the pair sat on was located on the highest floor of the courtesan house that towered over the other buildings around it. The room was home to a balcony that looked out over the dark night in Heian-Kyo, Only lit up by the paper lanterns from the long gone festival and the stars looking over the bustling streets like eyes.

The room was home to a small centre table, A dresser with a polished mirror on top and filled to the very brim with Sakura themed decorations. From paintings, To bedsheets to the very plant itself potted on the furniture. It was everywhere. Even the light scent resonated in the air.

It however, Just wasn't enough to calm the girl down as [F/N] nervously tuned the delicate strings on her koto from across the table. A single bead of sweat rolled down her side brow. Her eyes stead set on the knobs to avoid the hot gaze from across the table. Hot. She recognised it, He must of been the source of the scorching stare from within the crowd somewhere. It didn't help her situation in the slightest as it just made [F/N]'s figure freeze up, Her body on guard.

Ever since Haruka had lead them to [F/N]'s room he hadn't said a word, Just went to sit down on the tatami mat, Unmoving. The Kama overshadowed his face, Making it impossible to see his expression.

Was he sad? Angry? Or was [F/N] just overthinking things, It had been a long night after all and she was prone to a little paranoia now and then.

The sweat bead dropped to the floor and hit her kimono sleeve. Her lips twitched as she managed to drag her gaze up to the man, Whose large hat still covered his eyes. Twisting her mouth into the usual smile you'd see on an Oiran, She spoke.

"..If I may ask sir, What is a man like you doing around here? Samurai don't often come around these parts, You know." Her voice was light in tone. A tone that was friendly and gentle in nature, Enticing him on.

The man didn't make a move to speak however. Just sat there. Staring.

Her face quirked, Only for a moment.

"What about your name, Sir?" She tried again, Her voice only lilting in tone to a slight.

Again. Nothing.

[F/N] felt her hands on her koto clench up, Her eyes following the movement. The feeling felt-

"Kokushibo."

[F/N] looked up. The surprise pulsating in her chest as she realised the man, Now Kokushibo, Had spoken to her. Her previously ridged form fizzled into a more relaxed posture, The awkward air in the room dissolving just a little bit.

"Kokushibo.. What an interesting name" She said, Letting the name roll on her tounge. She stopped tuning her koto and thought for a moment, Pondering over the spelling

"I believe the kanji for that can mean 'Black Death'. If I am correct." She asked. The reason why a mother would name their child such a macabre title eluded her.

Kokushibo simply nodded.

"And yours is.. [F/N]. Yes?" He spoke. His voice was gravelly and deep that held a commanding undertone that made a shiver run down [F/N]'s back.

Stilling her form she nodded.

"While I do not understand the kanji.. Of your first name. I do believe your last name can mean.. 'Poetic Voice'" He said.

[F/N]'s brows raised. Her last name, Kotone. Did in fact mean those exact words. However that wasn't the thing that surprised her so much.

"How did you know my last name" She asked, Tilting her head to the man. Who sat in silence for a second.

"Your chaperone woman.. Mentioned it on the walk here." He said. [F/N] internally groaned. Of course the old woman had told him on the walk up here. She was always so talkative to the high-paying customers, It was her strategy. She'd talk to them about anything and everything relating the courtesan the customer had bought out, All to try and make the customer feel attached so they'd come back for more.

But something else seemed to click. Even if Haruka had mentioned her last name how could he have known the exact kanji spelling of her name. Was it a good guess or something more? Sensing the look on [F/N]'s face, Kokushibo piped up.

"If I may be honest.. I have been.. Infatuated with you, Your voice, for a long while now.. I learned the spelling from asking around.. I apologise." He explained. His head tilted down, His kama following the movement. Was he shameful?

No. He was shy. [F/N] felt a cordial smile creep up on her face, It explained a lot. His silence earlier wasn't due to any negative emotion or disturbing pathology but instead just a bout of stage fright.

"I see. I suppose you've been told of my talents from asking, too." She decided go along in a playful voice, The one she'd usually harness to tend to customers. Despite how much she felt uneasy using it, It did bring about tips.

"Yes.. In fact, It is the entire reason.. I have decided to come here in the first place." Kokushibo remarked. His hands previously positioned on his knees moved up to the tea-set placed on the table separating the two and poured himself a cup.

"I want you to play.. A piece on your koto for me." He said, Bringing the tea up to his mouth still cloaked by his hat. And took a sip. [F/N] nodded.

"Anything specific you want me to play?" She asked. Moving the koto in front of her body she finished the tuning process and rested a hand on the strings.

"One where.. I can hear your voice. One where you can sing." His voice contained a low tone of wonder, Seemingly reminiscing on a thought.

"Alright then.. Let's see here." [F/N] trailed off, Her mind wandered to her catalogue of songs. Trying to pick out one that she thought the man would enjoy.

Neurons connected. She'd gotten it.

Her carefully manicured hand ran over the spindly strings of her koto, Sounding out the first few delicate notes of her symphony. The strings resonated against the neat and polished birch wood of the koto. A rhythm started to form.

Kokushibo's shoulders seemed to relax at the soft tune, While she could not see his face she could tell he was entranced.

Her lips opened to annunciate the first lyrics to her malady, As soon as she did Kokushibo's relaxed figure stiffened up. The grip on his teacup tightened, He took a shaky breath.

The lyrics flowed out of her like running water, The chords on her koto harmonised with her heavenly voice and the music ruminated throughout the room and echoed from the wooden walls. Drowning out the noise of the street below them and replacing it with concentrated vocal artistry as she sung out the words.

"Well hello world, Wouldn't you know. Your nails were yellow and mine a miracle blue.." The first lyric to the chorus was announced and Kokushibo seemed to melt. Her voice sounded like a morning cardinals call, Like Benzaiten's being had graced her vocal chords in that single moment.

She seemed lost in her music, Too. Her eyes were closed and her body focused on moving along to the beat of the strings. A small smile lit up on her face as she went along.

"If you knew what I knew, You would too.." The final note on her koto rung out through the room, The song ending. It was such a short song, But as both [F/N] and Kokushibo were in drawn into the iron grip of the rhythm it had felt like an eternity.

[F/N] inhaled deeply for air, Her shoulders retracting. She set down her koto beside her with care.

"A beautiful song.. It is one of my favourites. I hope it was up to your standards, sir?" She asked, A playful tone masking her genuine and sincere question.

Kokushibo in turn put down his half-drunken cup onto the table. "It was.. The most beautiful song I've ever heard .." He proclaimed, His voice was ripe with wonder and awe which made [F/N] take in a deep breath, Taking in all of his praise she smiled wider.

"I am glad you liked it sir. Please, Would you like me to do anything else for you?" [F/N] offered. She went to the tea-set in front of them both and picked up the kettle.

"No.. But. I would wish to ask a question. If that is alright with you." He responded.

[F/N] gestured for him to continue on.

"Completely alright with me." She confirmed. She poured herself her own blend: Sakurayu. She filled the cup up with steaming water and mixed the little flower petals around.

Just as she brought the sweet smelling liquid up to her mouth he answered her.

"How much exactly.. Does your marriage contract cost?"

[F/N] choked on her tea.

The question had came out of left field making the tea she had just made burn her throat. She coughed and covered her mouth, Preventing any loose drops spilling out from her lips.

Kokushibo passed over a tissue, To which she gratefully accepted.

Once [F/N] finally churned out the last bit of tea out of her system she wiped her mouth. Careful to reserve her lipstick.

"T-That was a rather blunt way of asking." [F/N] said, Her throat still hoarse.

"I apologise.." He said. However his voice remained monotone, Sending mixed signals back to her.

"No, No. It's fine. In fact, I feel flattered that you would ask about that." She started, A nervous smile appearing on her face.

"But unfortunately my contract was bought out by another samurai only a day ago. I do apologise, If you were intending to buy." She explained, Her voice apologetic as she bowed her head lightly.

Kokushibo froze up.

His previously relaxed shoulders and lain hands both seemed to stiffen up. The warm look he used to gaze at [F/N] seemed to return to that hot, Boiling stare. The one from the festival, The one from before. Noticing the glare she had regressed to how she'd been at the start as well: Awkward and uncomfortable.

"I'm so sorry sir." She blurted out.

Kokushibo's kama lowered down to follow the movement of his head. He was quiet, Silent.

"Would you like me to play another song for you?" She asked. Trying to destroy the buildup of uneasy air.

Kokushibo shook his head, Making [F/N] feel just a little nervous down by his response.

"No.. I do believe.. That I have heard enough." He said. For some reason the way he said it made [F/N]'s lip twitch, But shook it off when Kokushibo got up from sitting down.

She followed him up, Fixing her kimono and her hair-do she bowed down to him in respect. A polite gesture to thank him for his civilised behaviour.

She figured that his session with her had decidedly ended, That was good. While she did enjoy his company and the song she sung for him it didn't change that fact that she was exhausted.

"Alright then. Please, Let me get the door for you." [F/N] said. Passing by the man she moved over to the decorated shoji doors and grabbed the handle. Sliding it open she went to-

SMACK!

[F/N]'s body fell to the floor, Her knees hit the tatami mat followed by her head which got hit off the wooden doorframe.

The hilt of Kokushibo's sword moved so fast that [F/N] couldn't even sense it crashing into the back of her skull, Leaving her dazed and barely conscious on the wooden floorboards. She was confused, Dizzy and completely unaware of what was going on, All she knew was the feeling of her fight or flight instinct kicking in.

She whined in pain. Her arms weakly extending out to try and get up, To get away, To run from the opposing danger looming over her. To survive.

But it proved futile as Kokushibo leaned down to pick up her seemingly weightless body into his arms.

She tried to scream, To yell and call out for any other courtesan in the area. Anyone who might hear. But it only came out as babbles of incoherent language as her assailant flung her over his shoulder with an inhuman strength.

"Please, Sir.. Why… What are you.. What are you doing?!" She groaned, Her vision cloudy and her head the raging storm that throbbed painfully in the place of impact. Kokushibo only let out a low hiss through his teeth.

"Quiet!" He spat. His previously shy behaviour now broken and replaced with an aggressive demeanour. His presence now dangerous and coupled with the vicious tone in voice made [F/N] shake.

"Please.. I.." She whispered as he carried her over his shoulder and made his way to the open balcony doors. She pushed at his chest, Kicked, Flailed about in his grasp all to try and get him off of her. But it didn't work, He never budged or even moved in the slightest. Only squeeze her tighter and tighter as a warning.

He had made his way out onto the balcony porch. Looking out over the sea of buildings and crowded life flowing up from the city below he walked over and put a single, Sandal-clad foot onto the balcony railway.

[F/N]'s eyes expanded in horror in realisation of what he was doing. She wailed out into the cold night air as Kokushibo put his final foot on the railing, Effectively balancing on the thin wood.

His figure wobbled on the railings, They dangled over the street below which was filled with people making their way around, If she fell it would be at least 90ft drop. She wouldn't survive that height.

[F/N] at this point was sobbing, Kokushibo's grip may have been strong but as she was faced with the height of the tower she felt like she would slip any moment, Fall the entire distance and hit the street with a loud crack.

She cried out.

"P-Please! Somebody! Help me!" She screamed out into the crowd below, Her voice cracking as it went.

"Quiet. NOW!" Kokushibo growled like a feral animal, She cried out at his tone

The feet on the banister spread out and his knees crouched down. [F/N] realised what he was doing and tried harder and harder to push away from his grip.

She yelled louder and louder at the people below. Screaming for help but it was useless. They were too high up for anyone to hear them.

And then, He jumped.

Going through the air at unnatural speeds her hair lashed all over her face like whips. The wind ran through them both as they went. She realised this was it, She was going to die. She closed her eyes tight in anticipation of the fall but-

The wind died down. [F/N]'s hair fell over her face.

Kokushibo stood strong on the tiled roof of the building adjacent from the courtesan house, His ponytail waved in the light breeze that now accompanied the two. He was unfazed.

"Wha.. What?" [F/N] choked out. The height even from the courtesan house to here was enough to severely injure someone, Yet he came out without a single scratch. She looked back at him.

She yelled at the sight of him, Finally breaking out of her dizzy stupor. His face. His bloody face had six eyes. Six eyes, Six. They were all red and strained, His pupils were golden and glowing. He wasn't human, He was a demon, An oni. And he was kidnapping her.

"No.. No no no no!" She wailed out, Her eyes were fixed onto his. She couldn't look away, Looking into his eyes was like looking out into a terrible accident. Blood, Guts and broken bones, It was horrible yet she could never bring her eyes away.

Her previous yells for help amped up into a panic attack as she struggled in his grasp. Punching, Kicking doing anything to escape.

Kokushibo made a noise in his throat speaking agitation and anger.

Bringing a single, Clawed hand up to the back of her neck he lunged it forward. Pinching a nerve point [F/N]'s entire body stopped moving.. Then went limp on his shoulder.

Her eyelids failed to lift, They were too heavy. Everything seemed to stop in time and nothing mattered anymore.

She faded into the dark haze. Going unconscious on the shoulder of the demon kidnapping her.

☆♡☆

The pot bubbled hanging over the fire. It crackled every now and then, Spitting up drops of water that fell down around it.

Outside the moon hung over the lush roseate forest, Only clothed by the young build of clouds forming in the sky.

Moonlight illuminated the rustling branches of the trees, They danced in the wind letting a few petals stray from their grasp and fall onto the overgrown grasslands that surrounded the family home on the hill.

Despite the cold air of the night the house was warm and lit up with life. The house was filled with noise of cooking. The pot boiling, The sound of knife on cutting board and the spark of fire all mixed together to create a lively atmosphere. The kitchen especially.

Inside, A man was currently facing the kitchen counter chopping vegetables with precision. [F/N] sat beside him on the counter swinging her legs back in forth. She huffed.

"Papa I'm booooooored.." She whined, Puffing up her cheeks she looked at her father.

"I know, Sweetheart. But you've got to be patient. After you've had your dinner your mother can take you outside, Alright?" Her father said, A soft smile coming across his face, He shook his head at his daughters antics and focused his attention back to the vegetables.

"But papaaaaaa I wanna do something now.." [F/N] groaned folding her arms with a dramatic flair.

Her father chuckled lightly. He paused his movements for a moment and set down the knife he was holding. Picking up a couple of onions he held them out to her.

"Well if you really want to do something, Then how about you peel these onions for me?" He said.

"That's not what I meant, I don't want to peel onions!" [F/N] groaned. Her father only responded in kind, Setting down the pair of onions beside her.

"Alright then! If you don't want to then I won't force you." He smiled knowingly, Turning back to his knife and veg.

As he continued cutting [F/N] kept eyeing the onions beside her, She tried to drag her eyes away from the pair but eventually the boredom took over. With a dramatic sigh she picked up the pair of onions and got to work.

"I thought you didn't want to peel the onions, [F/N]." Her father teased, The smile on his face victorious.

[F/N] just hummed.

"Making cooking go faster so I can go outside quicker!" She explained, Her tone suggests that her father should of already known this, While he did. [F/N] didn't notice.

"Now who wants to go outside?"

[F/N]'s head snapped around to the source of the new voice, It was her mother.

Stepping out from another room in the house her mother appeared with a sweet smile on her face. She carried a basket full of laundry in her arms and balanced it as she walked out into the kitchen.

"Mum! Mum!" [F/N] giggled, Raising one hand to wave wildly at her mother as she came over to set down the laundry basket.

Picking [F/N] up she raised her daughter up high, To whom only laughed harder in her grasp.

"Now what are you doing on the countertop, Sweetheart?" Her mother teased.

"She's helping me make dinner, Aren't you [F/N]?" Her father said.

"Really? Are you helping your father to make dinner?" Her mother smiled.

[F/N] grinned back at her mother.

"Yeah! I'm peeling the onions, See!" [F/N] exclaimed, Pointing down at the half-peeled onions with a proud expression. Her mother gasped.

"Oh, Wow! You've done such a good job!" Her mother said back. She brought her daughter down back onto the countertop. Turning to her husband she gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"How's dinner going?" She asked, A short smile appearing on her face.

"Just about done with the vegetables. The pot seems ready so all I need to do is get the bay leaves." Her father responded. Copying his wife's smile.

"Bay leaves.. Are you sure we stocked up on those?" Her mother asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Erm.. Yeah, I went out to the village and bought some last week, Remember?" Her father said. Her mothers expression turned into a look of doubt.

"Really? I thought you went out for those vegetables and rice. No offense but you do know how bad your memory is right, Kyuusei?" Her mother answered.

"Yeah! It was the veg!" [F/N] confirmed, Swinging her legs on the counter.

Kyuusei finished chopping the vegetables and stood still, Trying to recollect his memories.

"I.. I'd need to go check to make sure." Kyuusei said. Setting down his knife on the counter he was about to go and check before being stopped by his wife putting a hand on his shoulder.

"No, No. It's fine. I'll go check up on the bay leaves and you just focus on boiling the veg, Okay?" She told him, A reassuring smile on her face.

Kyuusei nodded.

"Thanks, Seishi." Her father said.

"No problem. Just make sure not to overcook the veg this time." Seishi teased with a grin. Kyuusei rolled his eyes and promised not to, Concealing the copied grin on his face.

As his wife walked off towards the door she previously came out of. Kyuusei collected the chopping board in his hands and moved over the steaming pot.

Readying his knife he loomed over the pot, Scraping the freshly cut vegetables into the boiling water they hit the surface with a splash.

The ripple created little droplets of water that flew up from the impact with a rather big one going up and hitting Kyuusei's bare skin.

He yelped and dropped the chopping board in his hands, Letting the unscraped vegetables scatter onto the floor with him following quickly behind. [F/N] yelled out and jumped down from the counter, Running over to her father.

"Dad? Dad! Are you alright? What's wrong?" [F/N] cried, Latching onto his wrist.

"Argh..!" Her father seethed, Looking down at the place where the water burned. The space had already started to create colour contrast and it stung badly.

The shoji door slid open and out rushed Seishi, Alerted by her husbands yelp and tightly clutching a few clovers in her hands. She gasped, Ignoring the spilled vegetables she stepped on she and hurried over to her husbands side.

"Kyuusei! Dear, Are you alright?" She worried and grabbed his burnt hand to examine the damage. Kyuusei nodded

"I-I'm fine.. Ah. It's just-" Kyuusei gestured vaguely to the floor below him "Dinner is ruined, The stuff in the pot isn't enough for all of us and we don't have anything left in the house. What are we gonna do?" He sighed.

Seishi pondered, Her eyes wandering away as she tried to work up an idea. Out of nowhere she snapped her fingers brining both her husband and daughters attention to her.

"The rice! You bought rice last week, Right?" Seishi exclaimed.

Her father slowly nodded, Getting the idea.

"Yes! Right, I left the bag in the shed down the hill. I'll go get it, Do we have enough Bay leaves? We can use that in the rice." He asked.

"No, I'll go down to get the rice. I haven't counted the bay leaves so you can stay here and do that" Seishi replied.

"Really? I can go get the rice no problem, Are you sure?" Kyuusei asked.

"I'm sure. Plus, You should make sure that hand's okay." Her mother smiled, Rubbing circles into her husbands hand. Kyuusei smiled, His other hand going over to rest on his wife's.

"I wish I had your quick thinking, Seishi. I really do." He muttered.

"And I wish I had your rice cooking skills." Seishi responded. Her eyes glinted like the stars outside, Capturing her husbands gaze into them.

He cupped her cheek and pressed his lips up to hers. A short, sweet kiss that's warmth lingered on the lips when he pulled away to beam down at her.

"Thank you, Dear." He said. Their faces still rather close, So much so that their foreheads touched.

"It's no problem." She chuckled. And with that she moved away and over to the front door.

[F/N], Who spaced out the entirety of her parents interaction, Finally clocked back into reality when her mother started turning the doorknob.

"Mum! Where are you going?" [F/N] called out, Tugging on her mothers sakura-woven kimono.

Seishi looked down to her daughter, Her hand still on the doorknob she kneeled down to her daughters level and rested her other hand on her head.

"Just going out to get some more rice for dinner, Alright? I won't be too long." Seishi said, Lightly brushing back loose strings of [F/N]'s hair.

"Can I come with you..?" [F/N] pouted, Trying to produce the best puppy dog eyes she could muster.

"I think it would be better if you stayed here.. After all" Her mothers tone grew into a whisper between them

"Your dad will need a lot of help, His hand hurts a lot and I think your gonna need to take care of him." Her mother muttered, Raising her hand as a barrier so it was only between them.

"Really?" [F/N] said.

"Really. You better promise to take care of him alright?" She said. Raising a single pinky finger up to her daughter, Beckoning her to take it.

Slowly, [F/N] raised her own pinky finger up to her mothers and wrapped it around her mothers larger one.

"Alright.." [F/N] spoke, A hint of disappointment still lacing her voice as her mother got up from kneeling down.

"Be back soon!" Seishi called out to Kyuusei who shouted back a goodbye from another room. Opening the door she stepped out into the night.

"Bye mum!" [F/N] said. Just as the door closed tight.

☆♡☆

[F/N]'s body felt limp.

The room she lay in smelled old, Reminiscent of dust filled air and a strange pungent smell of iron. She couldn't hear much, Only the settling of wood and insects occasionally buzzing around her at times.

She couldn't move her body. Everything from her head to her toes felt like it was too relaxed to get up. This extended to her eyelids as well as they felt like weights were hanging from her eyelashes, Tugging them closed every time she tried to open them up.

Her mind felt dazed too, A dull and throbbing pain pulsating through the back of her skull. She could barely render anything around her as she could only fixate on her overrelaxed body.

She tried wiggling her fingers first. A few small twitches going into the fingertips, It was a start.

From her fingertips it went to into her hands, Then her feet then her lower legs. All until she could move freely with only a leftover feeling akin to a sleeping leg.

Finally wrenching her eyes open she blinked a few times to try rub the feeling off and stared up towards the ceiling, Though hard to see in the darkness.

Her previously weighted eyelids shot open, A shock ran through her body. Where was she?

She felt around with her hands, She seemed to be laying on top of a futon

Panic coursed through her system along with the events that occurred some amount of time ago. How long has she been out?

Despite her breaking out of her bodies numb state the hangover feeling was still present and in full affect.

Bringing her shoulder back she tried to swing her body round onto its side. Failing the first few tries she landed straight back to where she was.

She breathed in and out to try and calm herself. Turning to the other side of the futon facing the wall she built up momentum, And in one swift move her body swung over onto its side to face the rest of the room.

She smirked triumphantly and finally let her gaze survey her surroundings.

The room she was in a long rectangle shape. It was old, Definetly, The cobwebs and dust particles proved the fact. Despite not being able to see well in the very dim lighting in the room [F/N] could see It was rather empty as well.

Housing only a rickety closet with doors barely hanging on its hinges, A dresser covered in dust with a couple of the drawers missing. There was also a rather ancient rug stretching the entire length of the room that seemed to have patterns on it which faded over time. As well as the strange lump laying on the far end of the ru-

Oh god..

Oh good god..

She screamed

[F/N] felt bile rise in her throat. Rising so high that her high pitched scream turned into choking and gagging noises until she finally keeled over and belched out the vomit onto the wooden floorboards, Sputtering and spitting out the rest.

She let out a loud wail. She stared wide eyed at the scene, At the mass of which she previously thought was a lump.

A human corpse or what remained of it lay scattered on top of the blood-stained carpet. It was mangled, From the limbs to the torso to the spilled innards it was mangled.

Limbs lay tossed around the dismembered torso, Barely holding on by the stringy tendons keeping them hanging from the ligaments.

The bits of flesh still kept on the bone seemed to have chunks ripped out of them, Torn off roughly from their structure. The mans organs and intestines were lain out like a buffet platter, Neatly ordered from largest to smallest in front of him.

And the head, Good god, The head. It sat facing her, Eyes bulging out of their sockets and dark pupils staring right at her, Bloodshot and strained. She stared back, Eyes almost as wide as his.

The worst part? She recognised him. It was the man who bought out her marriage contract, She had only met him once but it was him.

His heart was lodged into his mouth, Stuffed right down his throat and stretching his jaw so wide it creating a permanent look of horror on his visage. Maggots and flies had already started to infest his remains, Attracted to the corpse like worms to rain.

[F/N] screamed, Yelled and cried with her throat still suffering from the burn the vomit made.

She burrowed herself into the corner of her futon, Desperately trying to get away from the unspeakable horror laying only a few feet away from her. She pushed herself further and further into the corner, She buried her hands into her face trying to get the sight out a she flailed around.

Her mind was already racing with questions: How did this happen? Why was she here? Why is this happening to her? The questions were the roadblock her train of thought crashed into and the mangled body was the wreck she couldn't look away from.

She was so preoccupied that she never noticed the overshadowing presence grab onto her wrist and pry her hands away from her face. She looked up, It was him. All six eyes glaring down at her.

She yelled, Tears shot out of her face and she tried to get away. She kicked and struggled in his iron tight hold as she tried her best to push him off of him.

"Stop.. Struggling!" He hissed, Trying to wrangle her into being still. It proved no use however, No matter how hard he tried to sheperd her into a docile state she was inconsolable. Her cries were broken only by hiccups and his presence just made her heartrate skyrocket.

"I SAID STOP!" He hollered. Baring his shark-like canines at her she didn't need to realise how the chunks got ripped off her never-to be husbands corpse. Her choked sobs dissolved down into coughs and quiet cries of agony.

"P-Please.. I.. I.. Don't kill me please! I-I don't wanna die.. Please just bring me back to the courtesan house.. I-I need to go back there.. You don't understand I need.. I need to go back.." She bawled.

Kokushibo's nose twitched at her words.

"Silly girl.. I have no intention of killing you." He growled like a feral animal, His previously commanding voice progressing into a primal sort of wild grumble resonating deep within his throat.

[F/N] shook her head in a rapid movement, Confusion mixing into her previous terror.

"T-Then why.. Why am I alive.. I-I don't.. I don't understand.." She babbled. Her fingers digging into her scalp harder she tugged on her hair.

"If you haven't.. Figured it out by now then.. Let me clear the fog for you.." He muttered. His face moved closer to [F/N]'s who tried backing away further into the corner, However she was stopped when his hand lunged to the back of her head and forced it closer to his. So close that their foreheads touched.

"From now on.. You are to be my bride.. My wife." He proclaimed in the faintest of whispers. All six of his eyes focused on hers of which spoke terrified confusion.

"Y-You want me to be your wife?!" She spoke with a tone wobbling in pitch. She didn't understand, She couldn't understand.

His nose twitched again, His expression unreadable.

"Yes.. My wife." Kokushibo confirmed with a slight nod of his head, Finally pulling away from her terrified visage.

"W-Why me.. Why me of all people?!" She whimpered. Her head lightly shaking back in forth, A futile effort to cope.

"Ever since that day I heard you.. All those months ago when I heard that voice.. That beautiful voice hum such a beautiful malady.. I couldn't get enough.." He seemed to stop in place, His vision seemed far off. Gazing into a far away memory to reminisce.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing, He was following her for months. She had no idea, How could she not know he was stalking her? She was terrified.

Her mind seemed to be scrambled and misplaced like an unsolved puzzle. She felt one of the pieces of the puzzle in her throat, Taking only a very small peek towards the cadaver, She tried to put it down.

"T-Then what about.. H-Him.." She pointed a shaky finger at the rotting corpse behind him.

"Y-You didn't need to.. Kill.. Him. You could of just took me.. Why..?" She asked.

He didn't even look back at him, As if the mangled body was absolutely nothing to fret over. Instead his face seemed to grow dark and angry.

"It is a great dishonour.. For man to steal another's wife.. It is only right what he got." He hissed, A great venom running throughout his voice when he spoke about him and it terrified her. [F/N]'s form shook at his towering form overlooking her. Despite it all a rush of hubris ran through her, Only a small bit.

"I.. I am not your wife." [F/N] whispered so very quietly, But it was enough.

His nose twitched for a third and final time.

"Repeat that..?" He uttered.

"I-I am not your wi-"

He grabbed her by the jaw and roughly pulled her up to his level, Effectively cutting off her speech and fizzling out what confidence she had before and turning it into absolute terror.

"If the corpse of that vile man lying by your bedside.. Isn't warning enough. Then I'll tell you one thing.." He slowly moved his clawed hand from her collarbone, Slowly up to her throat. Pressing it in only enough to draw a single drop of red onto his fingertips. [F/N]'s breath grew heavier as her eyes went fixed onto the clawed nail, Begging not for any further pressure.

"You watch your tongue around me.. Or I won't hesitate to cut it out" He whispered.

Letting go of [F/N]'s jaw she fell back onto the futon and let out the biggest breath she didn't know she was holding. She shook in place, The words looped inside her head and ingrained themselves deep within her.

He brought his hand up to his mouth, The one he threatened her with. He lolled his tongue out of his mouth and licked the blood off his finger. [F/N] gagged at the sight.

"It seems that you need.. To be told of how things will work around here.." He said so stoic, As if he didn't threaten his captive only moments ago. [F/N] frantically nodded, Grabbing her throat to try and examine the damage.

"As my wife I expect you to follow the rules.. I set for you, So listen well.." He said, Beginning to slowly pace to and fro from one end of the futon to the other. [F/N] watched in scared anticipation, Intently watching for his next action. He stopped pacing and held up a single finger up to her.

"Rule number one.. You will perform your duties as my housewife. Cleaning the house.. Doing the dishes.. Be there to greet me at the door.. Along with polishing my swords. And if you even think about trying to use them to escape then.." He relaxed his free hand on his sheathed sword hilt. She didn't even need to know what he would say next, She got the message.

"Rule number two.. Every night before I come back from my.. Job. You will cook the meat that is left for you in the kitchen. Do not add anything to it.. Spices, Salts, Herbs.. Nothing." He emphasised the last point, Raising a second finger. Confusion spiralled in with her terror. Put nothing in it? She had no time to dwell on it however as he raised a third and final finger.

"Rule number three.. You are not allowed to leave this house… Though at night I will permit you to enter the garden.. Only at night. Once the sun comes up you must return inside immediately.." He finished. Lowering his fingers his eyes started to roam over her form.

"Do you understand me?" He asked.

[F/N] tried to steady herself on the mattress and steel her face.

Wiping the sweat off her face she nodded.

"Y-Yes.. I do." She replied.

Kokushibo hummed with a deep reverberation in his throat. When it stopped they were left in silence, Staring back at one and other with a wide split of emotions. The quiet was deafening between them.

And with that, Kokushibo turned away.

He walked towards the closed old door at the far end of the room, Walking with near silence. [F/N] felt her heartrate pickup, She called out.

"W-WAIT!.." She cried out.

Kokushibo held the doorknob in his hands. Although he stopped at [F/N]'s plea he faced the doorway and didn't look back at her. She sniffled.

"What about… him..?" She breathed, Only a touch higher than a whisper. The body of her dead fiance lay rotting still on the floor.

Kokushibo finally turned his head around to her, Only so all she could barely see was his left set of eyes staring her dead on.

"Rule number one.. Start cleaning.."

☆♡☆

The meat sizzled on the pan. The bloody raw juices burnt along with it, Creating an earthy aroma that filled the small kitchen it cooked it.

[F/N] sat crouched in front of the fire the pan hung from,

Occasionally poking and prodding at the meat with a stick to make sure it came out tender enough.

The professionally done makeup she had adorned before had degraded into smudged lips, Pudgy foundation and poorly done eyeliner. Not to mention her hair which looked like a wild animal got into it, Went berserk and was proceeded to be tied back up into an Oiran's usual up do.

Her charming personality couldn't save her appearance either. Her eyes that use to hold an enticing sparkle had dimmed into a dull gaze, All weighed down by the deep bags under her them from crying late at night. Her beautiful smile that could stun anyone was long gone and replaced by a permanent frown.

Since she had been swept away to her prison, It had been about two.. three.. Maybe four weeks? She couldn't remember, She had lost track after the first and after that it all had blurred into one, Hellish nightmare.

Even then she couldn't remember much of the first week, Not the first half anyways. She remembered the rules of course, And the awful man charading as her husband but everything that came after seemed to be a blur, After that all she knew was the red stain on the bedroom carpet that seemed to appear all of a sudden, How it got there was a mystery to her.

The second half of the first week was much more clear to her. It consisted entirely of a "Settlement Period" as that monster had put it. Do the dishes.. Greet him when he comes home, God save her if she didn't greet him.

One night she had completely forgotten to do so. She was so tired that night from all the cooking and cleaning that she didn't even notice him come home. He became unbelievably furious at her and had locked her in the bedroom closet for a good amount of hours. He didn't let her out no matter how loud her wails and screams became.

Before the settlement period ended he was much more distant, Per se. He kept away from her, Didn't speak much. As long as she did the rules set out for her he didn't interact with her at all. But he did stare.

Anywhere she went when he was home she could feel his eyes on her, That hot glare could melt ice with its intensity. It only served her to be more scared of him, To fear his next move, To flinch whenever he did.

After the period had ended however is when he started to get closer. He'd force her to lay with him at night in the same bed, Nothing came of it but the absolute inconsolable fear that resonated from within her every time he dragged her to their shared futon every time the sun came up was absolutely nauseating.

That was another thing, He goes out at the first show of the moon and comes home just before the wake of dawn. You figured it was a demon thing, It probably was. But this small little fact changed her sleep schedule to make her nocturnal, Which annoyed her greatly.

He'd start to try make light conversation if you could call it that, It was more of him asking questions such as 'What did you do today'. To which she had no answer, She was kidnapped. She had spent the entire day doing what he had forced her to do. However the only thing she could say to appease him was "Nothing much honey? What about you" while they sat over the meat she slaved away at.

The meat, She didn't want to think about the meat. She had no idea where it came from, Just that it restocked when she fell asleep.

When they ate together, When he forced her to she couldn't quite place the taste of it. It wasn't like anything she had tasted before and the closest thing she could place it to was pork, However seemed to be more sweeter and a just a little more stronger than any pork she's had before.

She didn't want to know what kind of meat it was, She didn't want to ask. It was probably better that way.

All she focused on was cooking it, Making sure that it turned the golden brown it was suppose to be.

To cook it she was given a simple pan and a few pieces of wood to make friction with. She wasn't allowed anything sharp so she had resorted to bamboo sticks and her bare hands to cut and prepare it.

The kitchen wasn't much help either. When she finally brought up the courage to venture into rooms other than the bedroom she discovered the absolute abandonment the rest of the house was in.

Like the bedroom which was bad enough the kitchen was horrendous. The wooden floorboards and structure were rotting. Cobwebs were infesting every little crook and cranny of the kitchen, So much so that it looked like clumps of yarn had been stuffed into them. Not to mention the tiny web landlords she found in them that she had to chase away with rocks.

She had to slave away day and night to even make it somewhat hygienic to cook in.

Apart from the kitchen she hadn't dared to go into any other room in the house. She didn't want to think about what was in there if the kitchen was this bad. The only rooms she went in and out of was the bedroom, Kitchen and bathroom.

Apart from that she hadn't explored any other room, Luckily enough it seemed like her captor didn't care if she didn't clean the other rooms. As long as the kitchen, Bedroom and bathroom were clean he didn't say a word about it.

But there was another area she loved to explore.

Outside of the house, When she was permitted she would enter the garden. While it was unkempt like the rest of the house with flowers and rye grass growing wild, [F/N] thought that gave it charm.

There were a good few amount of large tree's casting shade around the small field the garden covered with lush green leaves covering them. Unfortunately she couldn't escape as the gardens were fenced off by large walls covered head to toe in a rather severe form of poison ivy, If she tried to climb them she'd be writhing on the ground in seconds.

The flowers were vividly coloured and bloomed in a wide spectrum. They radiated such a beautiful fragrance, With her favourites being the pink ones as they reminded her of her beloved sakura blossom.

But despite the beautiful aroma coming from them it just didn't have the same smell of her cherry blossoms, Leaving the lovely smell bittersweet instead. Besides, The tree's in the garden just weren't the type to produce the blooms.

She'd find a way to escape. When she does she'll find her way back home, Back to him.

A loud sizzle of the meat on the pan snapped [F/N] out of her reflection.

The meat had turned into a rich brown, Signalling it's medium rare condition. [F/N] groaned and wiped the sweat off her brow that built up while she daydreamed.

Slowly poking the meat over the side of the pan she pushed it over onto a plate to collect it. Scraping the last bits of the slabs off onto the plate she got up from her perched position on the floor while stretching her aching legs.

Wobbling in place she moved over to the old kitchen countertop and set the meat down to cool off. She sighed and leaned back onto the counter beside it.

She realised she'd started cooking the meat too early as the moon outside usually rung of the time her captor got home. This gave her time to herself.

For a normal person this would be a good thing, However to [F/N] it just meant more time for her and her thoughts. She didn't want to think anymore about her situation as it would just make her overthink more. She needed something to do.

Looking around the small main room for an opportunity she came up barren. She recalled all the books Kokushibo had occasionally brought back for her, She had read them all at least fifty times over and had basically memorised every word so she supposed that was a no go.

Clean the house again? Both the kitchen and the house were both as spotless as an abandoned house could get, There would be nothing to clean. Though, The other rooms in the house were abandoned and unexplored, Bound to have some dust in there.

She didn't even like cleaning, Not in the slightest. Though she figured her situation had brought on new hobbies despite how depressing of a hobby cleaning is.

Though as she looked at the door she recalled back to all of the disturbing traits of her imprisonment: The mystery meat, The carpet stain, The infestations. Who know if these are the only the things she found in three rooms then the rest of the house must host only the Gods knows.

She eyed the door as if she was a rabbit to a wolf. Slowly, She shuffled over to the shoji door. The inside birch handle seemed to resemble a open maw to her. The scolded herself in her mind.

It was just a door, It was just a room. Why are you afraid of entering a dusty old room? You shouldn't be feeling like this, It's totally irrational [F/N]. Pull yourself together.

She exhaled, She knew she was right. It was just a room. She never had this problem before, Maybe her kidnapping has shook her up more than she realised. Go in, You might even find something that could help you escape. Just rip the bandage off.

Steeling herself with the hope of escape she grabbed the open maw handle she roughly pushed it open. Instantly she was met with a dust cloud that made her cough and cover her mouth with her kimono sleeve as she desperately tried to waft the air away with her hand.

When the cloud finally settled she lifted her head up to peek inside the room.

Peering around the corner she looked inside to see a storage room of sorts, Or at least that's what it looked like.

The inside dimensions was of a rectangular shape with a high ceiling. Like the rest of the rooms it was completely covered in dust and cobwebs, [F/N] could also see the scuttling of tiny bugs running around the floor to which she squirmed.

There was a large table in the middle of the room, On top of it sat pots and pots of dead old plants of a wide variety, [F/N] wasn't surprised, With the large biodiversity of the garden outside she should of known the previous owner of this place had a green thumb.

On the far side of the wall was three storage cabinets, They were built with 'Swing open doors' and luckily had no locks on them. Noticing this [F/N]'s curiosity was piqued, The possibility of escape tools was tantalizing.

She took a few steps into the room, Deeming it not to be of any danger. Looking left and right to confirm this she tiptoed over to the storage cabinets and reached the first one.

She ran her fingers over one of the hinged doors, Collecting a layer of dust while she searched for the handle. Finding the rise on the surface she gripped onto it and turned. Swinging the door open she peered inside to see the contents.

Inside there were several glass jars, All of them were of different sizes and shapes but in the end they all contained lots of kinds of herbs and spices, All of which were strangely still fresh.

Grabbing a few of the jars she examined them. The bottle's necks had a thin tag attached to them.

Paprika, Bay leaves, Cinnamon, Oregano, Brahmi, Tumeric, Nutmeg, Pepper.

All of which she recognised. While none of the contents appeared to be of any use to her escape plot they did give her something to use with the meat, Though Kokushibo didn't want any in his it didn't mean she couldn't season hers at all.

She slid the containers back into their cabinet and closed the door. Feeling somewhat satisfied with her finds she moved onto the next one.

Opening it up she looked inside to find.. Little colourful pouches. The pouches were scattered within the cabinet. They were a wide range of colours from blue to pink, They were there. All of them had little floral patterns sowed into them with care.

[F/N] raised an eyebrow. The pouches were just laying there without any holder like the spices, No nametag either. She also doubted they would actually have anything in there that would assist in her get away.

But she couldn't be lazy, She needed to check.

Collecting the pouches she scooped them up into her palms and brought them to her chest. Surveying their condition and rubbing a few of their contents through her fingers she found they all contained different textures. Finally deciding to check them she pried open the mouth of them and examined the contents.

And there were.. Seeds.

The outside colour of pouch she had opened was yellow and the insides were sunflower seeds.

[F/N] hummed, Only mildly surprised. She continued on to the other ones.

Blue? Ocean lilies. Red? Roses. Black? Dahlia's. Each of the small pouches had a colour corresponding to their contents. She put the opened ones back inside the cabinet and sieved through the rest.

Putting away orchids and tiger lilies she finally reached the final pouch.

It was a baby pink with silver threads adorning it. Testing its weight, She tossed it up into the air and it landed back with a light thud into her hand. It wasn't unlike the others, Not at all.

Pulling open the string around its neck she opened up.

Inside of the little pink pouch were seeds. Big and round, Resembling something like a walnut. There were a total of four in there.

Her eyes expanded to that of saucers. Her jaw went slack open. She recognised them, How could she not? They were cherry blossom seeds, Yoshino to be exact.

She felt her heartrate rise up in her chest, A pounding sensation filling her entire body. She felt as if an exfoliating light was rising up from her palms, A glimmering hope in the darkest days of her life, All radiating from inside the sack in her palms.

[F/N] squealed at the sight and couldn't help but rapidly stomp her foot being unable to contain her excitement.

She swiftly clawed out one of the little nut-like seeds and felt in around in her hands. A burst of giggles erupted from her and she spun around in place at the sight of it. Without any thought she knew what she had to do.

She stuffed the pouch in her her obi and rushed out the room with a new found speed. She needed to plant the seeds, She needed to grasp onto the cherry blossoms, She needed to smell them.

Completely forgetting her previous escape plan and ignoring the amount of time it would take to grow the tree she took no time when she ran out into the main room towards the main door.

And stopped dead in her tracks.

Standing in front of the wide open door stood Kokushibo. He glared straight at her, All six of his eyes scrutinizing her entire form.

[F/N] froze up, Her previous excitement dying in her throat. Her fault hit her like brick and made her head spin round and round. She forgot to greet him.. She forgot..

Her knee's almost buckled under the weight of her mistake. She tried to speak, But no words came out.

Kokushibo looked at her, Then around the room. He moved his clawed hand and she flinched.

"The meat has gone cold.." He commented, Pointing at the left out meat.

[F/N]'s lip trembled. Suddenly building up the courage to speak she let it spill out.

"I.. I'm so sorry I.. I.. Lost track of time.. Forgive me, Please.." She spoke fast and stuttered as she went. Her eyes started to water at the prospect of being locked back in that small, closed off space.

Kokushibo was unfazed. Looking straight through her.

"Its.. Fine.." He said and with that, He turned away and trod off down the hallway.

[F/N] felt herself instantly relax as soon as he left the room. While the meat wasn't hot anymore and she'd need to heat it up, She wasn't punished or yelled at for failing to both greet him at the door and making the meat how he liked. She thanked whatever kami was looking over her.

However she noticed from the small crack of the closed door that the sun was rising. She wouldn't be able to go outside into the garden to plant the seeds.

At least, Not while Kokushibo is aware.

☆♡☆

It was the early hours of the morning, Only a few hours after [F/N] got a hold on the cherry blossom seeds.

Like every night before then her captor had dragged [F/N] back to their shared bedroom and had forced her onto the futon. As usual nothing came of it. It was just him facing away from her towards the wall while she looked the other way.

Normally this would end with her eventually falling into a dreamless slumber, But today she had a plan.

She decided to wait for Kokushibo to fall asleep, A task which she assumed would be boring but easy. But had turned out to be the complete opposite.

She herself had stilled her breath and relaxed her movements, Trying to make it seem that she herself was deep into REM. But this seemed to work a bit too well as Kokushibo bought into it.

She felt him run his claws through her hair, She had to steel her nerves just so she wouldn't squirm away from him. He kept moving around in bed, Too. Repeatedly repositioning himself to include her in his sleeping position: Wrapping his arms around her waist, Resting her head on his shoulder, Spooning. All of which made her want to vomit.

I should of just waited until night time to plant it. She thought. She was right as well. It would be much more convenient if she did wait, But her mind tossed it like a used cigarette immediately. She needed to plant the seeds, She needed her cherry blossoms.

In the end however he couldn't find a comfortable position, So he just reverted back to the original stare-at-the-wall form.

She had waited another two hours after that, Just to make sure he was asleep. Once she finally felt sure she had put her next step into motion.

Literally, She had to be extremely cautious in her steps as the floorboards had a tendency to creak. One single move could ruin everything.

Getting up, Slowly, Carefully. She swung her legs over onto the floorboards and pressed her feet down softly.

She waited.

No sound came. She was in the clear.

Fully getting up from the bed she creeped ever so sluggishly towards the main door, Carefully making sure not to touch any of the floorboards that were particularly old.

Reaching the door, The hardest part had came around.

The doorknob, The accursed doorknob. Every time [F/N] would turn it around to leave the mechanisms inside would create such a churn of noise so loud that you could hear it from the kitchen.

As gently as she could she relaxed her hand over the doorknob. Gripping it she began to gradually turn it, So slow you could barely see it move. The mechanisms from behind the door started to sound out too, Lowered and muffled by [F/N]'s sluggish pace but still enough to make a low scraping noise on the wood.

She winced at the sound, Her pace going even slower until she turned it around the entire way.

She pulled it open gently, Her hand still on the doorknob. The threat of the mechanisms reversing hung over her head like a guillotine, The sharp blade seeming to lower every time the noise jolted in volume.

She let the knob go. Glancing back at the slumbering demon, She found him still dead asleep on the futon.

She grinned, Wild and toothy. She was free to go.

She walked off down the hallway towards the front door. Pulling out the small baby pink pouch from her obi she confirmed it was still there. The adrenaline of the situation ran through her and the raw excitement of her find elated her so much so that she felt she was floating.

Reaching the door she swung it open and rushed out into the garden. It was early morning. Though you couldn't tell due to the thick blanketing clouds, So thick that it didn't even let a single crack of sunlight dawn through. As she ran barefoot, Stomping on the wild overgrowths of grass she noted that the soil seemed dry today.

[F/N] frowned, These weren't good agriculture conditions. But that didn't waver her stride nor did it shake her determination in the slightest, She was confident in her goal.

Running past the wild bursts of flower growth and foliage she reached the heart of the garden: A little rocky hill with a clearing at the top, The perfect position for a Yoshino blossom tree to be perched.

She swatted away hair strands blowing in her face from the light breeze, Tripping only once or twice on the way up she reached the top.

Falling to her knees, Dirtying her old kimono in the process she brushed away the grass to find the perfect spot.

Finding a small little dip located in the exact middle point she deemed it good enough to dig in.

[F/N] started to claw and scratch at the dirt with her bare nails, Pushing away soil left and right not caring about the mess she made. She knew she needed a hole at least a few feet deep.

She tossed the pouch to the side of the hole, Seeds rattling around inside it.

She dug further and further down, Soil was building up beside the dip that soon turned into a crevice. Soon enough though her nails hit a harder part of the soil and began to be proven useless.

[F/N] near-growled at the impasse. Thinking quickly, She extracted one of the sharp-tipped hairpins from her messed hair. Ignoring the hair flopping over from the removed support she raised the pin high up above her head.

Bringing it back to gather momentum she quickly brought it back down-

She froze. Goosebumps rose on the back of her neck.

She didn't need to turn around to know about the katana only inches away from her neck, Ready to pierce her skin at any moment.

"What exactly.. Do you think you're doing?" Kokushibo hissed. He was angry, He was so angry. His entire being shook with it. The blade he pointed directly at the back of her neck shook along with him.

[F/N]'s heart seemed to stop beating and her jaw lay open. His kimono wove in tandem to the wind and was brought apart from his rage. The hairpin she held dropped to the ground with a clang!

"I.. I.." She sputtered. She didn't dare turn around. She didn't dare turn around to see his bared teeth, His wide eyes scrutinising every atom of her, His free hand twitching around itching to dig into her skin.

A sound similar to what a feral animal would make rose from within his throat. The blade inched closer.

"An answer.. Now." He spat, Taking a step closer.

Despite his words he didn't wait for one. Alternating his blade to his other hand he reached down beside her he grabbed the pouch. [F/N] gasped.

"W-Wait!" She exclaimed. He brought the pouch up to his face to examine it. [F/N] tried to grasp and grab at the pouch but was nonchalantly shook off by Kokushibo, Who paid her no mind.

He wretched the mouth of the sack open and brought out one of the walnut-like seeds, Holding it with two claws up to his middle eyes. He ignored [F/N]'s protests, She felt her entire being break. Her one chance of comfort destroyed before her.

She broke down into quiet tears, Her retaliation growing weaker and weaker until she just slumped over on her knees.

"What.. What is this?" He asked, Not taking his eyes off the nut. "It's a cherry blossom seed.." [F/N] muttered through her soft cries. Kokushibo looked down at her, His face cooling off only a singe. He lowered the seed down to instead clutch it in his hand.

"You came out here.. To do gardening?" His voice sounded off, Like he was deep in thought. [F/N] nodded.

"Why?" He asked. The question seemed to elude [F/N]'s response. A war waged on in her mind, One side fighting to stay silent the other to just tell the truth. She shook it off, Going for the third party.

"Does it matter to you?" She said, Her voice a tone of defeat. In her somewhat right mind she would of never spoke to him with that level of audacity, But now it just seemed futile.

Kokushibo sucked in air through his teeth and huffed as if it was a stupid question.

"You are my wife.. I expect there to be no secrets hiding from me." He answered so casually.

"I am not your wife.. I've told you this before. There was no marriage, You kidnapped me." She sighed. Every inch of fear she had seemed pushed to the side now.

Kokushibo lowered his sword, He took a step forward closer to her. "..Why do you like them so much?" He asked, Ignoring her previous remark which would get her reprimanded. Her eyes narrowed, This brought on a sense of confusion to [F/N].

"Why do you want to know.." She repeated her previous question through her sniffles, Still looking down at the grass.

"Back at that courtesan house.. Your room was filled to the brim with those flowers. I had assumed it was a theme… That wretched old woman gave you to make you stand out.. From the other Oiran's in the area.." He explained.

"But I was proven otherwise when instead of escaping.. You came out to plant one of the tree's." His voice was filled with puzzlement.

[F/N] had nothing to say at his words, Nothing at all.

"Let me make you a deal." He proclaimed, His voice finally making [F/N]'s head rise up from the ground to look up at his looming figure. A deal? Her face scrunched up in confusion while she awaited his response.

"If you explain to me.. The reason for your love of sakura blossoms.. And start refering to me by my proper title.. I will let you plant this seed here.. As well as bringing you back whatever you desire when I leave the house. " He laid the bargain out in front of her. It wasn't the deal that puzzled her to no end, But instead his unyielding determination to know why she adored the blossoms.

"Why do you even want to know about it? It doesn't matter to you at all." Her final question escaped her lips. He stood quiet for only a moment as he pondered her words. Kokushibo's expression seemed to grow light as he looked at her.

"Because despite your silly beliefs.. I care about you. And I wish to know about you, To be a good husband for you" He said.

This pierced through [F/N] harder than anything his katana could of done. Her shoulders loosened up and she nodded.

"Alright then. I accept the deal."

☆♡☆

[F/N] layed by the boiling pot hanging over the fire, Swinging her legs around and fidgeting with her hands.

The clouds that had barely obscured the sky earlier had grown into a raging storm, One that neither she or her father predicted. The rain was heavy and came down like bullets along with the wind which was harsh and unforgiving. Outside the cherry tree branches hit each other back and forth creating loud rustling noises.

Along with the semi-boiled water she could smell the rain mixing with the wildlife from the halfway opened window. She kept glancing out it to see if she could catch a glimpse of her mother returning with the rice.

Her dad had commanded her to keep an eye on the water, And for the first ten minutes she did. However eventually her young mind grew bored and wandered off to other things.

[F/N] groaned and flopped her arms to her side.

"Dad, When's mum gonna be back?" [F/N] exclaimed with a lilt of annoyance.

Her dad stood over by the kitchen counter clutching a good few clovers of bay leaves in his hands.

"Don't know, Sweetheart. You know how your mother is with taking her time." Kyuusei replied. He shifted through the bay leaves and got to the very last one, Staring at them blankly for a moment he sighed. He turned back to his daughter.

"Be right back, [F/N]." He called out to her before turning away and walking towards the shoji door. [F/N] watched him slide it open and walk through.

Once he shut it closed, She perked up from lying down on the floorboards and got up.

Ignoring the boiling pot of water she rushed over to the open window. Gripping onto the frame she tried hauling her small self up onto the ledge, Failing twice before finally being able to pull her little body up onto the frame.

She looked out into the wild weather of the night and took it as nothing big. Jumping down onto the other side she pranced out into the rife atmosphere in search of her mother.

She ran off onto the rough stone path, Tripping both from the heavy winds and the jagged rocks. She had to pause just to regain her balance, However when she did she took off further down the path.

[F/N] ignored her soaked kimono and the hair whipping around her as she carefully maneuvered the stones. Lightning echoed out in the distance, But the noise didn't rock her from her path.

The warm light of her house grew farther and farther away, The cold chill of the night grew stronger the more she went.

Eventually reaching the peak of the ledge they sat on she looked out over the forest below. Her hair blowing around in her face made it hard to see below. When she finally gathered it all together she finally got a look below.

She saw the small shed there, Lightly rocking back and forth on its structure. The candles weren't lit inside implying her mother wasn't there.

[F/N] groaned, But suddenly she spotted her mother through the rain and wind.

She lay unconscious at the bottom of the hill, Her arms and legs spread out on her stomach. The bag of rice was spilt out a little way beside her. [F/N]'s eyes widened, Panic rising up into her chest. She heard her father yell out from behind her, But she ignored him and his calls.

"Mum! Mum!" She yelled out over the storm noise. Carefully, She made her way down the hill to get a better look at her. Climbing down onto a lower rock she narrowed her eyes to-

She wasn't unconscious

She wasn't unconscious.

Seishi's neck was twisted 180, Her broken neckbone dug out from her flesh making her head look barely attached. She lay in a thick puddle of blood diluted only by the rainwater. She had fallen on the path.

[F/N] screamed.

"MUM! MUM!" She wailed. Running down the path not caring about her stumbles and wobbles as she went.

She reached her mothers corpse, Her head was facing up while her body faced down. Her visage excreted fear, A final terrifying sculpture. [F/N] gripped onto her body and sobbed, Pulling at her kimono and burying her face into her mothers shoulder.

"[F/N]!" Her father had finally reached the scene and stood still at the top of the hill. He looked down on the rest of his family and he yelled, A loud guttural yell.

He rushed down the pathway and quickly enveloped his daughter in a hug, Shielding her away from the corpse of her mother. [F/N] latched onto her father and sobbed inconsolably.

"S-Seishi.. Seishi, My love.. It should of been me.. It should of been me.. I'm so, so sorry." Kyuusei cried, Looking upon the cold dead look of his wife. [F/N] cried along with him, Crying out for her mother to come back.

She shut her eyes tight, Hoping that when she opened them she'd awaken in her mothers arms. Wanting to be lightly scolded for staying up too late.

But when she opened them that never happened, Just the cold rainwater and the shaking arms of her father hugging her tight.

She cried. The last thing she remembered was the faint scent of her mothers cherry blossom perfume, Fading out into the iron smell of her mangled corpse.

☆♡☆

It was a sleepless night.

The morning after, The storm clouds dispersed away. Bringing in the warm sun shining over the revitalised forest.

The irony stung the both of them, As today was the day they'd need to carry her mother's cadaver to its burial site.

Her father had held [F/N] the entire night, Trying to find the words to console her when he knew none could comfort either of them. So instead they sat like that until the first eye of dawn.

After that they made their way back down to the death site. Picking up Seishi's cold body he pulled her close to him, He tried his best to put on a strong face for his daughter but he couldn't help the silent tears and hiccups erupting from his throat as he carried his wife's body through the forest.

[F/N] tailed behind him, Repeatedly calling out for her mother in small sobs. She repeatedly wiped away her tears with her sleeve yet they kept flooding out anyways.

They decided on the massive weeping sakura sat in the core of the woods as Seishi's final resting place, It was her most prized tree as it towered over all the other ones around it.

The digging of the grave took a good few hours for her father to complete, During that time he never said a single word and never for a second took his eyes off of his task.

Once the grave was finally done he had looked into his wife's eyes for a final time and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. He softly apologised to her, Professing his guilt over her death and how he loved her so.

He lowered her body into the grave and shut her eyes. Once both [F/N] and him said their final goodbyes, He got to filling the grave with a sombre expression.

After that her father had grown sad and bitter, The previous light and warmth that his presence radiated had grown cold. Most days he wouldn't leave his bed. He never said anything either, Not much anyways.

Unlike the cherry tree's symbolising life and renewal, Her mother had not come back to them in the spring.

This went on for years, It never ended. His depression had grown so severe that he had lost his job, Both for his horrible attendance and his sombre attitude. This had left the sole provider to be [F/N]

Her mothers death hit her terribly, She had broken down crying for weeks on end afterwards. She'd lay by her grave for hours on end, Only straying to go to sleep. Even then there were some days she'd fall asleep by her grave.

When the money ran out however, Is when [F/N] was forced to pick herself up and start providing for the both of them. She had to, For both her survival and her fathers.

To make money she had came up with a custom kind of tea blend made out of the sakura leaves surrounding her house. A sweet yet earthy blend that a lot of the younger and elder women seemed to love. It brought in money, Not a lot but enough to get by.

Everyday she'd travel out from the forest down to the village, Go door to door trying to advertise her blend of Sakurayu to the villagers. Then come home to make dinner for her and her father.

This cycle went on for years until she was a young woman. If it wasn't pity, She knew some of the villagers criticized her for being the one to take care of her parents. It didn't matter though.

She needed to take care of her father, Cause if she didn't, Nobody else would.

However one day, Years later. The village nearby had made merchant deals with hers. Trading food, Clothing the exact same sakura tea blend that [F/N] worked hard to make.

Unfortunately the villagers loved the imported tea more than [F/N]'s homemade blend, This had absolutely destroyed [F/N]'s income and instantly threw her into a panic.

The money she had made before had suddenly disappeared. So when she heard gossip from some of the younger girls at the village about the courtesan houses in the big city, She knew what she needed to do.

The next morning she kissed her father on the forehead, Leaving a letter and the last savings of money to keep him going while she was gone.

With that, She stowed away on a carriage ride going all the way to Heian-Kyo. In search of a better life.

All while she rubbed the soft pink petals, The same ones that always told her she was safe. Safe in the arms of her mother.

☆♡☆

[F/N] was crying now, Tears rolled down her face as she spilt out her past for her captor to hear.

"After that I just.. I found a house with vacancy and they took me in.. Then I just.. Worked my way up until I was Oiran." She choked out, Her face dug deep into her own palms.

Kokushibo held her close in his arms, He had started doing so once she had broke down at the explanation of her mothers death. He showed no emotion on his face, But his actions seemed to speak loudly enough for him.

"I-I sent money to my father when I could.. I haven't seen him in years.." She cried, Nuzzling closer into his chest. They were so close that she was basically sitting on his lap. She didn't care anymore, She needed the comfort and if it meant ignoring the morality of the situation to get it then she would never think another thought about it.

"Please.. I don't know how long it has been but I need to go back to the Oiran house.. I need to get the money for him.." She looked up at him, Tears in her eyes.

Kokushibo hummed, Moving an arm up to her shoulder he rubbed circles trying to provide comfort.

"I am unable to bring you back.." He said. [F/N] looked away from him, Sniffling. She knew it wasn't a matter of him being unable, It was a matter of he didn't want to.

"But I will be able to provide the money you seek." He finished. She looked back, Her eyes wide and full of life.

"What..?" She asked, Seeking confirmation of his words. He only nodded.

"If money is.. what you need then I can provide it.. It is no hassle for me" He proclaimed, Looking back into her own eyes.

[F/N] smiled, A wide, Genuine smile graced her face. A light blossoming within her like the leaves of her sacred tree.

"You.. You mean it?" She whispered, Looking deep into his eyes which only held the truth.

"Of course.. I do. As part of our deal.. Whatever you want." He replied, His voice contained such obsession care that she just couldn't see before. She melted in his hold.

"Also as a part of our deal.. I do believe its time for you to plant that seed." He said, Bringing up the seed he had in his hand he presented it to her like a wedding ring.

She smiled wider and took it from his palms.

Turning around, Still in his hold she looked down at the half dug hole. Picking up her hairpin to start digging again she was stopped by a gentle grasp on her wrist.

"Use this instead.." Kokushibo said, Handing over a small dagger. "It would be better than a hairpin.."

She thanked him and got to work. Using the wide surface area of the dagger she dug at a much better pace, Kokushibo watched her every movement the entire time.

Once she had dug a big enough hole she examined the knife. Kokushibo presented his hand, Signalling her to give back the knife. She held the hilt tight. Looking once at his hand then to the knife.

She sighed and dropped the knife into his hands. He nodded and tucked the knife away somewhere she couldn't see.

"Alright then.." She muttered, Holding the seed up to both of their eyes she reached the final step.

"Just let it go.." He replied, The same quiet tone echoing back at her. She looked at the seed and remembered her situation. The kidnapping, The living conditions, The punishment. All of it came back to her.

It was an awful feeling, Something she wanted to push away, Something she didn't want to feel ever again.

Knowing she was too wrapped up in her own mind to make the last move he guided her hands down to the crevice. He rested his head on her own, Her back up against his chest from where they sat.

He nudged the seed from her grasp and it fell into the hole. She snapped out of it and looked down to see the seed had been planted. "That was not so hard.. Was it?" He asked, Though he did not expect an answer.

She shook her head, The frown on her face was barely visible. Slowly, She began to refill the dug out hole covering the seed so it could grow in the right conditions.

She felt Kokushibo wrap his arms around her midsection, A sensation she had jolted at. It was an action she did not expect, Leaving her stiff.

Once the hole was fully covered and the seed was set to grow she was left to her own thoughts as she was embraced by her captor now husband.

This was fine, It wasn't okay. Gods, it was not okay by any means or context that could be given. She had been kidnapped and tortured for an amount of time she couldn't even remember, But it was fine. Just fine.

If the only thing she needed to do to provide for her father was become this man's wife, Then she would do as she had promised.

Though as her mind wandered off to her now gone plan of escape, The torture she had endured during her stay here she felt that same, Horrid feeling bubble up inside her.

She hated it, She hated it so much.

She tried to recall the aroma of the cherry blossoms, Imagining the sweet subtle smell invade her senses and take over her entire being head to toe.

And suddenly, Everything was fine.

[blackexcellence]

Welcome to Black Excellence 365, where we celebrate all things Black and Excellent every day of the year. This month, for March, we will be taking a look at a new theme and source of pride & expression: Hair ✂️.

This month is all about hair, and its importance to Black style, culture, music, history, politics, and, most of all, Black Excellence. Black hair is an essential part of the Black experience. You name it, we’ll look at, explore, and celebrate it: cornrows, box braids, natural coils, knotless braids, goddess braids, twists, pixie crops, locks, wavy hair, crochet braids, and everything in between. Black hair goes hand-in-hand with every aspect of Black life and touches every corner of the world. Care for Black hair is a labor of love ❤️and a long, long process that involves washing, detangling, combing, oiling, braiding, twisting, and decorating the hair, which creates not just a sense of beauty but honors its spiritual power. And this legacy lives on today across Black life. In the 60s, the Afro was a big expression of Black power, pride, connection, and revolution popular with artists, performers, youth, and activists. Some artists would use their hair as an expression of art, as they do today, while young Black Americans would ‘fro their hair to emulate the style of the civil rights heroes like the Black Panthers and convey Black pride, as pioneered by the Queen, Angela Davis. Since that time, Black hair has become a symbol of celebration, a reminder of our roots, and a call to embrace heritage while politically rejecting Eurocentric ideals. Today, the Natural Hair Movement is carried with pride and power. Black hair has always been political — in the same vein, in 2019, The Crown Act (sign the petition|email your legislator) was passed as a starting point to support Black Folx in their appreciation of their hair — their CROWN 👑. Whatever the period, whatever the style, It is all Black Excellence and is here to be celebrated 24/7. 

But BE365 is nothing without you: so POST your favorite hairstyles, iconic Black cuts, shapes, and styles, and your cutting-edge hairdressers and stylists who turn Black hair into art, and Black Excellence. And don’t forget to tag your content with #blackexcellence365 for the chance to be featured. And last but not least, join us for our celebration and of the very best in Black hair of every shape and every style. Make sure you join in, follow, and smash that share button using the tag #BlackExcellence365. 

Welcome to March in #BlackExcellence365 ✊🏿✊🏾✊🏽!

[bosbas]

Chapter 5: I don't want you like a best friend

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.8k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, sexual tension, miscommunication (ish), benedict bridgerton being an idiot, anthony being a slayer in response

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

May 26, 1814 - Word has it that Benedict Bridgerton has returned from his mysterious disappearance to the countryside and was seen at White's with the Beaumont twins last night.

But more interestingly, the second Bridgerton brother was spotted with a certain Miss Y/N Beaumont about the town getting flavored ice in the growing summer heat, with Miss Beaumont appearing notably more joyous with him than during her interactions with other gentlemen she met at the Cowper Ball. While not privy to the intricacies of this friendship, this author does wonder whether Mr Bridgerton's newfound reappearance in the ton will affect Miss Beaumont's standing in the social season. Will suitors be too intimidated to pursue her? Though this matter might prove irrelevant, as Mr Bridgerton might decide to pursue Miss Beaumont himself...

Once again, you found yourself amidst the flurry of commotion that marked the afternoon before a ball. Only this time, you felt considerably less nervous knowing you had Benedict's company to look forward to. This would be your first time seeing him at a ball, dancing together outside the confines of either of your homes. You were quite accustomed to dancing with him. Both sets of your parents had been eager to teach their children the art of dancing, resulting in frequent informal post-dinner dancing lessons where you, more often than not, were paired off with Benedict. And you weren't complaining. He was a magnificent dancer, and you found you could just let go and allow him to take the lead while the two of you waltzed. Instead, you could focus on the feel of his steady hands on your waist, the handsome smile he cast down at you, or the shivers that ran up your spine when he would lean down to whisper something in your ear. Perhaps you were used to dancing with him, but that did not make it any less enjoyable.

Which is why you found yourself unable to keep still, excitedly humming and squirming around in the carriage bound for the Featherington residence. It was like your debut all over again, you thought, but with Ben being the only person who would be seeing you come out for the first time.

"Y/N, that's quite enough!" exclaimed Theo, clearly fed up with your antsy behavior. "Whatever is the matter? We are almost there; are you truly incapable of sitting still for a few more minutes?"

You glared at your older brother, choosing to ignore his comment but stilling your movements nonetheless. You were more than aware that Theo and Bastian were all but dragged to tonight's event by your mother, the pair being less than enthusiastic about attending a ball the very day they returned from their hunting trip, but you were not bothered one bit. If you had to go out and look for a husband ball after ball, they should, at the very least, be forced to be there as well. You envied their position in society, under no pressure to marry so soon and with complete freedom to do whatever they wanted, really. Your own literary pursuits were under somewhat of a time constraint unless you managed to find a suitable husband who would allow you the freedom to continue them, which was becoming increasingly unlikely as the season continued. Despite your mother's comforting words, assuring you that you did not have to marry this season, you honestly wondered how helpful another season would be if it was as fruitless as this one. You reasoned that you might just have to settle for someone you weren't particularly taken with, which was a dreadful thought, but at the very least, you were hoping to find someone who wasn't terribly dull.

After half an hour at the Featherington ball, you feared that "not terribly dull" might have been too high of an expectation to have for potential suitors. You were in the middle of a dance with some titled gentleman, his name you were not entirely sure of, who had been stunned into silence after you made a quip about a book you knew he should have read, as it was included in the Oxford curriculum you had been privy to courtesy of Benedict. Now, the two of you were dancing in complete silence, your eyes scanning the ballroom for any sign of your best friend. Just as you felt your foot being stepped on by your mute dance partner, you turned to see that Ben had entered the ballroom. The sharp pain in your foot was forgotten, and you relaxed, knowing you had an actually good dance to look forward to now.

Benedict eagerly entered the ballroom alongside his mother and older brother, immediately searching the crowd of people for you. Although he would never admit it, he was, for the first time in his life, properly excited for a ball. He knew he would be able to dance with you, granting a socially appropriate opportunity for him to hold on to your waist for a few minutes and feel the curve of your hips, occasionally getting close enough so he could smell your sweet perfume and whisper a silly comment in your ear. A comment that would no doubt make you laugh or at least giggle softly in a way that always seemed to elicit a warm feeling from his chest.

Unable to find you in the crowd, Benedict turned to Violet, who surely would know where you were by now, with a questioning look. She softened her features and gestured toward the dance floor, where Benedict could see you dancing with another man.

He barely heard his mother say over the roar in his ears, "She's out this year darling, with barely a spare moment away from a suitor or another," too focused on the man's hands on yours as he spun you around. Tearing his eyes away from the scene, he looked at Violet, who was already looking at him with a hint of concern. He swallowed thickly and put on a broad smile, not wanting to outwardly show what he was feeling.

"I suppose I'll be competing for her affections tonight, then. Hopefully she has space on her dance card," Benedict uttered, internally cringing.

Turning to Ben, Anthony leaned over and clapped him on the shoulder. "I don't think that'll be too much of a problem, brother. If you'd read Whistledown in your time away, you'd know your dear best friend has scarcely been giving any gentlemen the time of day. At the Cowper ball, Colin and I were practically the only ones she danced with," he said with a meaningful look.

Ben looked puzzled, not entirely trusting his brother's account of your season so far. He probed further, "A couple of men asked the twins about her at White's last night, so I just assumed she was having a lot of success." At the mention of the gentleman's club, Violet excused herself and went to go chat with some other mamas milling about the ballroom.

"She is having a lot of success, to be sure. Lots of gentlemen callers and the like. I just don't believe she actually likes anyone just yet," Anthony explained, seeing Benedict's shoulders relax just a fraction.

Trying to appear nonchalant, Ben responded, "Oh. That's a shame then that she hasn't found anyone she connects with."

"Are you sure you think it's a shame?" came Anthony's teasing reply, earning him a small shove from Benedict.

Just before Anthony could return the shove, you came up to the Bridgertons, walking as fast as was appropriate at an event like this. "Oh, thank heavens!" you exclaimed. "I thought the dance would never end. What good is an Oxford degree if you haven't even read The Odyssey?"

Anthony couldn't help but laugh at your exasperated demeanor, making a dig at your previous dance partner. But Ben was too eager to get you to himself. He softly grasped your wrist and took hold of your dance card, wordlessly asking for your permission. You raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

"I can't say yes if you don't ask, Ben," came your response. Yes, he was your best friend, but he needed to show some decorum. Besides, you really wanted to hear the words coming out of his mouth, needing the sweet sound engrained in your mind so you could revisit the scene later when you were in bed playing over the best parts of the night.

Stifling a smile and giving you a slight bow, Benedict looked deep into your eyes and flashed you the most charming, rakish grin he could muster. "Miss Y/N Beaumont, would you do me the honor of giving me this dance?" he spoke lowly, sending you a cheeky wink.

A simple "yes" from you would have sufficed, but you were finding it difficult to form any words at all. Your throat had gone dry, and you were astounded by the intense effect his words had on you. Having such a close relationship, the two of you were as informal as could be. But here, in this ballroom, barely even touching you, Ben had managed to leave you feeling warm and out of breath with a more formal tone than you had ever heard him speak to you. You maintained eye contact with him, licking your lips in a failed attempt to get something out to indicate that, yes, you desperately wanted to dance with him. You settled for a quick nod, pushing your dance card-clad wrist further in his direction.

He clasped your hand in both of his, reaching his fingers to touch your own. A teasing smile pulled at his lips. "I can't take you to the dance floor if you don't say anything, Y/N," he retorted, throwing back your earlier words. You finally broke eye contact, shaking your head and looking down, laughing at yourself.

"Yes, Mr Bridgerton. I would be delighted," came your airy response. Your breath hitched in your throat as he interlocked his fingers with yours and put a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd during the short walk back to the dance floor.

"Very well, Miss Beaumont. But I insist you must call me Benedict," he said from behind you, lips dangerously close to your ear. You waited until you reached the dance floor, fighting goosebumps, and spun around to face him.

"Am I not allowed to call you Ben anymore, then?" you teased.

Ben could only smile down at you, a twinkle in his eye, "You can call me anything you like, darling."

Before you had time to process his words, which had undoubtedly left you breathless, the music started, and the two of you began dancing. It was a wonderfully familiar feeling, and you were gliding through the ballroom with ease, working perfectly in sync during every step, turn, and twirl. You were delighted. After far too long dancing with uninteresting or uncoordinated suitors, you could finally relax and just enjoy the dance, as well as the feeling of Ben's hand touching yours.

"So how is it, really? Looking for a husband?" Benedict asked after you had found a good rhythm.

Immediately, the topic clouded your features. You were unable to meet his gaze for fear of tears springing in your eyes. You bit your lip and composed yourself, blinking away any tears that had formed. With Ben, you could just be yourself; there was no need to pretend to want something you most certainly did not.

"Ummm... it's proven to be a challenge," you started, sniffling slightly. "Rather, I knew it would be challenging, but I didn't know how impossible it would feel. Every man wants a perfect, mindless housewife, and I fear I will be unable to fulfill that role. I want something different, Ben," you said, finally looking into his eyes. You were met with his sympathetic gaze, searching your face to take in all of your minuscule expressions. His hand softly squeezed your waist as you continued, "And I don't know if I will ever find someone who will allow me to do that. I can tell because barely anyone shows interest after they truly start to get to know me and can't keep up with the conversation," you added with a small laugh.

After twirling you around, he spoke, "I know, I can't say I envy your position. Truthfully, I would rather do anything other than get married at the moment, so I cannot imagine how you're feeling."

His words were thrown out almost casually, but you felt a stabbing pain in your gut as he said them. You already knew he didn't want to marry you. It would never work. He was your best friend. But it still hurt to hear him say it out loud. You were saved from having to respond by being twirled around again, so you simply nodded at him to continue, not trusting yourself to speak.

He sensed a change in your demeanor and thought that perhaps the prospect of marriage so soon was still a sensitive topic, so he tried to offer words of comfort. "At least you don't seem to have a lot of serious suitors right now. That way, you have time before you actually have to settle down."

But as soon as his words left his mouth and your face fell, he knew they were the wrong ones. You were staring off into the distance, refusing to make eye contact with him. The dance was almost over, and the pair of you were nearing Anthony once again, so Benedict knew he had to fix this in the next few moments while the two of you still had any semblance of privacy. Scrambling, he desperately searched for the correct words to say, blurting out the first thing he thought of to make you feel better.

"No, I didn't mean it like that, Y/N. I promise. You are so beautiful, and smart, and funny, and caring, and kind, and any man would be crazy to not want to marry you. With time, I am certain you will find a suitor who feels this way," came his rushed response.

Stunned into silence, seconds away from breaking down into sobs, you cut the dance short, disentangled your hands from Benedict's, and rushed to the ballroom exit, hoping not to cause a scene. The stabbing pain in your stomach was migrating to your chest. You were struggling to breathe and had tears blurring your vision, but luckily, you saw your mother near the exit and grabbed her hand, pulling her with you. She threw a startled apology over her shoulder at whoever she had been talking to and stopped you once you had left the ballroom.

Turning you around and firmly putting your hands on your shoulders, she scolded, "Whatever is the matter, Y/N? Why on earth would you–"

Stopped short by the sight of tears streaming down your cheeks, she softened and opted instead to hold you tightly to her, shushing you and stroking your hair.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked carefully.

You let out a choked sob, shaking your head. Primrose kissed the top of your head, not letting you go.

"That's alright, sweeting; we'll just leave the ball early then. Would you like that?"

You could only nod, holding onto her as she led you outside to the carriage. Desperate to go home and emotionally exhausted, you let yourself be directed into your seat and all but collapsed on top of your mother as soon as she was inside as well.

Back in the ballroom, Benedict stood frozen, looking in the direction you had run off in. Despite his utter confusion at your quick change in mood, he felt a crushing weight in his chest at being the cause of your distress. He thought things had been going quite well, actually. He had no idea why he had not been able to soothe you, usually an expert at reading your emotions, and had instead worsened the situation considerably. Wide-eyed, he turned to look at Anthony, who stood a few feet away. Ben was still stunned but shrugged at his brother, muttering, "Women" as an explanation for your sudden distress.

Benedict certainly had not been expecting Anthony to coddle him, but he could not help but be shocked when his brother's face transformed into a furious scowl, fists forming at his sides. He had barely reached his brother's side when Benedict felt Anthony's finger poking his chest aggressively.

"You are a complete and utter buffoon," whispered Anthony harshly, hoping to avoid a scene despite his overflowing anger. Benedict only sputtered in confusion, unsure of what to say.

"Oh, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I heard the last bit of your conversation, and obviously, this is a sensitive topic for Y/N. A large part of the reason no man has bothered to keep pursuing her is that they know the two of you have an incredibly strong 'friendship,'" continued Anthony in the same tone of voice, emphasizing the word 'friendship.' "You would know this if you bothered to talk to anyone at White's last night or kept up with your supposed best friend at all. But you were off in the countryside doing god knows what for whatever reason, and she had to face this alone."

Ire bubbled up in Benedict, feeling that his brother's response was uncalled for. "I cannot possibly have elicited this level of aggression from you. What the hell does Y/N's search for a husband have to do with me? Who she marries is entirely her choice," shot back Ben in the same angry whisper Anthony had been speaking in.

Anthony stepped back, looking at Benedict with disbelief. "You are either completely blind or the biggest fool I have ever had the displeasure of knowing."

With that, he turned on his heel, leaving Benedict reeling, still stunned, not to mention confused. He was replaying every interaction he had with you tonight, trying to find what he said or did that might have set you off, and, hopefully, trying to find a way to fix this.

---

Cass sat perched on your bed, where you lay in your night robe with a puffy face from the extensive crying you had done the previous night. Your mother had been discreet upon returning to your home, but your younger sister had inevitably heard you both come in and went to greet you in hopes of knowing what transpired at the Featherington Ball. Not wanting to explain your heartbreak to either of them in the moment, you had gone straight to your room and locked the door, not even allowing your lady's maid to help you out of your gown. But you knew you could not avoid your sister forever. So when morning came, Cass had slipped in before the rest of the Beaumonts rose. She found you already awake, staring out the window.

"Cass, I fear I have gotten myself into a most precarious situation," you started. She said nothing, opting instead to pat your leg in support. Her eyes grew wide as you briefly recounted your dance with Ben the previous night. You were near tears again, the pain of rejection still fresh.

"Well, I think Benedict Brigerton is an idiot. And a massive one, at that," your sister huffed out once you were finished speaking.

You let out a wet laugh in surprise, chastising her, "Cassandra! You must not use such foul language!"

"It's rather warranted in this situation, actually," responded Cass. Ever the fiery personality, you appreciated her fierce protectiveness in this moment.

"Honestly, I've gone over our conversation about a million times since it happened, and I don't think he actually said anything wrong. He doesn't want to marry. I don't have to worry about getting married right at this very moment, and I will eventually find someone who wants to marry me. Someone who is not him," you said carefully.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but you pushed through, needing to say this out loud. "All of this is true. If Colin or Anthony or anyone else had said this, I would be inclined to agree with them. I think-" you paused, composing yourself.

"I think I have genuine feelings for him, which I had not entirely realized were there, or at least I had not categorized them as... whatever they actually are," you finished, unable to stop the tears from streaming down your face now. Cass reached over to hug you and moved to sit next to you on top of your covers.

You were still sniffling when she spoke up, "I was wondering how long it would take you to realize." Seeing your dirty look, she let out a laugh, "Sorry! I'm sorry! It was just quite obvious to me. Or to anyone with eyes, probably."

You put your head against the headboard behind you, closing your eyes in frustration and responding, "It's just very inconvenient that I feel this way. Obviously, he does not feel the same, which is obviously alright," you shot Cass a pointed look, warning her not to interject. "So, I believe that to actually find a husband, I must change my friendship with Benedict. Slightly."

"How do you mean?" asked Cass.

Rubbing your temples, you answered her, "Perhaps, seeing him less. So I'm not distracted. And so I stop comparing every suitor to him. And maybe not dancing at balls anymore. To have more time to dance with actual potential husbands. And because I do believe I will fall in love with him if we keep dancing like we did last night, which would not be helpful in the least." You had stopped crying now, your plan of action filling you with resolve.

"Are you implying that you aren't already in love with him? Because we both know that's not tr-" Cass attempted to say, before getting hit by one of your pillows square in the face. But this time, you were laughing with her. It was all going to be alright. You would find someone, and your feelings for Ben would soon become a thing of the past.

—

previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!

[sixth-light]

ok ok slightly feral post as promised.

first, some context setting: I think it's really interesting to analyse texts in terms of both what the author was trying to do (and whether they succeeded) and what they ended up doing (intentionally or not) and I think their cultural/historical context is vital if you want to do this. I'm not interested in whether Robert Jordan or the Wheel of Time are, like, morally correct in their politics or whatever. I'm interested in what the art is trying to do.

and the thing about Jordan, see, is that he projected this image during his lifetime of a Genial Older Man (see: beard and pipe) but he...wasn't actually that old! He was 42 when EoTW was published. He died at 58. He was a Baby Boomer publishing books at a time when Baby Boomers were the hip young generation taking over from stodgy WWII veterans (Gen Z: It Will Happen To You Too).

What this means is that he was a child and adolescent during the Civil Rights movement, in a then-majority Black city in the Jim Crow South*. He would have gone to segregated schools. The tertiary institutions he attended had only started to desegregate a year or two before he attended each of them. I think his war trauma in Vietnam gets a lot of attention because he did talk about it and also because that's a narrative we understand for white men, but I think we...skim over the impact on white men of growing up at this time because? Civil Rights only happened to Black Americans I guess? but it's his context too. Similarly, he was an adolescent and young man at the time the (white) feminist movement was really kicking off in the US. he was in his mid-20s when banks were first legally *required* to allow women to open accounts and have credit cards in their own names. he went on to marry a woman a decade older than him, who had left her husband to raise her son as a single mother while continuing a professional career in the early 70s; these were issues that must have been incredibly relevant for her.

and what we see in his writing is attempts to grapple with gender and race that are self-evidently of mixed success, but I think have to be contextualised in light of this period of immense change he grew up in. Think about the predominance of women as merchants and bankers in WoT, in the context of how recent their rights to even control their own money were in the US. The...everything...he was trying to do with the Seanchan, making them extra-canonically Southern American-coded. The Whitecloaks as the KKK (among other things, of course).

As an example, I think there's also something probably unintentional but fascinating in the way he presents the pre-Breaking Aiel: bluntly, they are a distinct ethnic group in hereditary servitude (always thinking about how that ancestor of Rand's in the Rhuidean sequence had to get permission from Mierin Sedai to switch to someone else's service so he could marry his girlfriend, this is...uh...super cognate to issues enslaved Black people faced). They're associated with agriculture through the Song sequence. And they're pretty much the ideal of what slave-owning Southern American culture WANTED enslaved Black people to be: completely happy to serve. Then, as the post-breaking Aiel, they become feared as a source of violence, which resonates with the way that enslaved people were feared by their slavers.

I don't think for a second that the intention here was to depict the AoL as a Secret Slavery Dystopia, I think we're meant to take the Rhuidean flashback sections pretty much as they read on the page. But I also think putting Jordan in his historical and cultural context does pose the comparison. Similarly, I find it really interesting that he positions Seanchan as riven by constant revolts and uprisings (because it's a fascist slaver regime) but he never ever goes so far as to link enslaved people in Seanchan (damane and da'covale) to those revolts and uprisings, even though that is fundamentally the deep fear *for real and obvious reasons* of all slavery-based societies.

Or then there's the changes to the Two Rivers in the books - like, both then and now I think it's actually pretty radical to present an influx of Muslim-coded refugees of colour as a thing that enriches the Two Rivers both socially and economically. Various characters are wistful that it's changed, but they don't think it's bad. The text here is really clear that welcoming the Domani and Almoth Plain refugees is both morally right and beneficial. And this is in a book being written and published shortly after the first Gulf War.

There's so many more things like this where I just have no real idea what he was trying to do on purpose and what was accidental and what was fun for him in fiction but did not necessarily link at all to his real-world political beliefs. but gosh it's interesting to turn over and poke at.

[survivingcapitalism]

As disabled people around the world and as disabled diasporic Asian queers, we have been grieving heavily and finding as many ways we can to be in solidarity with Palestinians during the last 80 days of the genocide against Palestinian people. 

We want to get money and resources directly to Palestinians in Gaza, however, as many people know, the blockade has made it almost impossible to get cash and resources into Gaza. One way that is possible is getting people eSims. 

The Israeli Occupation Forces have attacked wifi and cellular service over and over again, which stops people from being able to get information, be in touch with their families to let them know they’re alive, and for people to get the word out about bombings and conditions in Gaza. The several times that Israel/the IOF cut off all wireless and cellular service have been chilling and also provided sites where harsh damage, murder and atrocities could occur without media coverage, period, and by the heroic young citizen journalists whose social media accounts are some of the only ways that accurate, up-to-date news has been getting out of Gaza. 

On October 29th, 2023, Egyptian writer and activist Mirna El Helbawi founded #ConnectingGaza to get eSims directly to people in Gaza, with updated information about which carrier is most needed. A few weeks later,  poet and organizer Jane Shi decided to sell her remaining “Immunocompromised people are worth protecting” stickers to raise funds for eSims as well as for Palestinian Youth Movement Toronto’s Community Defense Fund after her friend Divya Kaur (@soft.kaur) suggested fundraising for eSims with art and after her friend Vivian Ly and co-organizer at Masks4EastVan linked Mirna’s instructions in a group chat. Doing so was quick and easy, as her stickers were already listed on her Big Cartel page from when they were previously sold to fundraise for fires and floods impacting predominantly Indigenous families in so-called British Columbia. 

Like many others across her social media feed, Jane was floored when she saw that one of the eSims she purchased, which lasts 20 days and has unlimited data, was activated, meaning that it is currently being used to connect Palestinians in Gaza to the Internet. She excitedly sent the screenshot of the activated eSim to a bunch of her friends and community members, hoping to offer some respite against the high stress of protests, social media posts, and ongoing organizing. 

Amidst the onslaught of violence, criminalization of protest, egregious censorship, and grief, including for the assassination of English professor and poet Refaat Alareer, the small blue “Active” offered a glimmer of hope, however small, however inadequate. 

Poet Rasha Abdulhadi, a disabled, queer Palestinian Southerner, invites us to do everything in our power to refuse the genocide against Palestinian people and in so doing, encourages us to make connections between our struggles and theirs.  In their bio in The Offing and elsewhere, they share, “Wherever you are, whatever sand you can throw on the gears of genocide, do it now. If it’s a handful, throw it. If it’s a fingernail full, scrape it out and throw. Get in the way however you can. The elimination of the Palestinian people is not inevitable. We can refuse with our every breath and action. We must.” As disabled people we owe our disabled kin in Gaza to get in the way. 

In the spirit of many disability justice crowdfunds, like Stacey Park Milbern’s collective fundraiser to buy the Disability Justice Culture Club in 2019, we are organizing this disabled (and ally) crowdfund to buy a shit ton of eSims.  

Anything you can contribute helps. There is power in numbers. We know that as disabled/ sick/ ND/Deaf people we are often poor or broke, but we can pool our money to collectively make a big difference. We also know that there is a rich tradition of poor and working class people donating more than middle class and rich people in general, and of poor and working class disabled people sharing what we have as a form of collective access and solidarity. We also call on people with access to money and/or wealth to contribute as you can.

We are also looking for disabled orgs and collectives to connect with and move money and resources to as asked—we have listed some below. We also recognize that everyone in Gaza is now disabled due to the massive number of deaths, new disabilities, life-threatening illnesses and destruction of medical facilities going on. Such destruction also debilitates the land, water, and air, which will impact Palestinians and all surrounding life for generations to come. We owe our kin in Palestine to throw sand on the gears of genocide with our every breath. 

[pinkboss55]

OK, the last one for @artsybun

This time featuring ANGST!!!

Usagi fond Leo floating on top of the water covered in fishing nets. Panicked, he tried to untie his friend, but Leo's tail was especially tangled up and injured. Ropes had bruised his scales. Fresh open wounds are a sign of a struggle. Maybe he swam too close to the local fishing spot? No, no, he's done this SO many times he KNOWS to avoid them! What happened? One of the wounds goes right through his tail, clearly punctured all the way through. Was he targeted? So many things raced through poor Usagi's head as he pulled his friend onto his little boat and pulled him into shallow water, all the wile tiers streaming down his face, screaming for his Ant, and try to comfort his best friend the best he could. Even if he didn't know if Leo could hear him or not.

"Itokit'sgoingtobeok! You're going to be OK! I got you! Everything is fine! . . . Please, please be okay. . ."

It's more for himself, really.

Note that this is not canon to @artsybun 's Mermaid & Pirate au, but I'd thought I'd add my last little brain rot before I make fan art of a different Rise au. So here are some final thoughts about this drawing in particular.

I don't really know about the world building in this au. (Outside of the relationship between the boys) So a lot of this is interpretation and personl head canons of the au. So if I end up wrong, I'll probably edit this in the future.

The idea is that Usagi and his Ant live on a boat house, traveling and trading between small islands with little settlements. There is one island that is deemed "safe" enough to stop there frequently and stay for long periods of time. That's where the two accidentally meet.

I'm not sure how the law works or how they inforce if. I imagine it's like Pirates of the Caribbean, where the Royal British navy just went around being assholes and "maintaining order." Like that, but whatever equivalent this au has.

Maybe a smaller group of those guys just so happen to see poor Leo on the way to see his friend and wanted to "inform" him of the rules. Or maybe it really was a fisherman that really didn't like "his kind" and wanted to be cruel. It's kinda left for interpretation.

One more thing. Leo's mermaid half is a shark, and sharks need to keep moving in order to breathe. This doesn't apply to all sharks, and Leo is also half Red eared slider that are semi aquatic, so this might not apply to him at all. But it just makes the idea more angsty that the net Leo was trapped in limited his movement after he got away from his would-be killer and passed out from exhaustion trying to get to a safe place and almost drowning.

Screenshot reference from Ponyo

[eatmangoesnekkid]

The most powerful being on the planet is a fully intuned sexual being; Someone who is fully intuned with their sensuality, sexuality, and thereby their ability to consciously and deliberately create.

In order to operate at a higher-than-average level, you have to release the need to judge yourself. Not judging or regretting any part of your journey, but experiencing and honoring every aspect is the secret to moving beyond a bored, shrunken sense of of self and coming into your full, phat, creative, joy-filled, sensuous, juicy aliveness so that you can create your new life narratives. Back in 2010, I left my leadership job in Atlanta and started to work 3 days a week as an art model for a professor and his students.

Calling in this well-paid position allowed me more space to spend 4-6 hours, 5 days a week in a forest alone. Spending that much alone time in a forest felt like the truth (the universe/love) was breathing me. Animating me. I would get so “high” naturally and become one with all that is, all there was, so there was less density and judgment about anything left in me, you see. You don't have to spend that much time in a forest to begin to feel how releasing judgement is a sacred keycode for living in a healthy magical existence. If the harmony feels right, allow yourself (your cells) to receive this. Judging everything on the planet as 'this is good/that is bad, this is right/that is wrong' actually takes up a lot of space in your body. However, discernment for what is true for you, is not judging but a kind of maturity.

To access the creative power that naturally and innately lives in your body, this magical divine energy that has been depressed (or pressed down into your body) and is now showing up or "manifesting" as aches and joint pain, fibroids, heavy periods, mold, candida, fibromyalgia, weight gain, rapid weight loss, overfunctioning, or addictions, is about creating more space within. Your developing spaciousness is key. What or who is taking up so much space in your body and life that you can't create new body and life narratives?

I started to sense years ago that maturing in my womanhood was not about constantly shopping, wearing dresses, overconsuming, or materialism but doing the solid meticulous real embodiment work that opens up a natural unrepressed sensuality that you and I both need in order to access our dormant pressed down divine gifts and power. When you are living in relationship to your divine energy, you no longer NEED to walk around in your human body with low-grade anxiety, low-grade depression, lack of fulfillment, constantly busy, constantly fighting and raging, or constantly running into the next thing because you are running away from yourself, your actual cells. You start to become clearly aware that you are something different from "normal" --like alien/angelic and intuition, foresight, secrets of the universe, manifestation, resilience, joy, aliveness, sexuality, and the deliberate creation come easier for us because you have accessed your real self beyond thepattern/programming. A heart opening frequency. In as much as prehistoric times, the Universe and our Ancestors passed down now forgotten stories and the lost arts of telepathy, tongues, prophecy, levitation, healing hands, etc. that some people still can not fathom are real. The beauty of this existence that we are all part of is that we can wake up those memories or realizations that life is incredibly mysterious and magical and anything is possible.

This melody of love work is intimate, mature, and takes you deep into your gorgeous body. Shadow work. Unconscious work. Breathwork. Movement. Breast care. Pussy work.

Holding gratitude for all your experiences, whatever they may be, is the first step to emotional maturity and its magical awakening. Trusting your choices eliminates the need to blame or shame another or feel victimized and allows us to actually be in the position of creator/God//supreme creator consciousness. Dare we to stop fighting and start feeling and twirling in spirals through life’s beautiful, and sometimes painful and messy initiations….and become whole and human again. --India Ame'ye, Author

[outerexpanse]

downpour headcanons + designs :)

Thoughts on each under the cut, some contain direct spoilers. (Lots of writing)

Note for pronouns listed: These are just my HCs, use whatever you prefer or see fit. :)

Gourmand: She/He/They Full of love and oh so happy with life. Simply went out into the world for FUN and to learn more, why not? Respected and highly regarded at the Home Tree as one of the smartest slugcats around. Coming up with ways to make meals more filling is always important with so many slugcats! Gourmand returns with many regions mapped out, and thus gives way to more slugcats to explore as groups and create homes for themselves. Teaches about the taming of lizards, and to take care when doing so. What was an incredible enemy can make a greater ally. All around a very positive, happy-go-lucky slug to me.

Artificer: She/Her I wanted her to design to be .. fire-esque with the markings like flames in a way. Obviously very troubled, so incredibly lonely because of it as well. She's afraid of connections, what if the past repeats? It would hurt too much. That SAID.. she will find her way to Outer Expanse and be welcomed with open arms. Prior, I think she was apart of a small nomadic family of slugcats so the Home Tree is something else entirely new. Arti could, in this scenario, take on the role of a community mother in a way. There's still fear of the past coming back in new ways, but in this she begins to open up more and becomes adoptive mother to slugpups whose parents have been lost in some form. I just think!! She deserves the world!!! She gets to relax. No more Situations.

Rivulet: She/He/They Somewhat based on how some aquatic animals have a whiter tummy to blend in to creatures below them in the water, and a darker upper body to camouflage to those looking down in the water. (A bit difficult with all the pink, I wanted to keep that on her though..) Very kind :) she loves to bring gifts to Moon, and periodically pays visits to 5P for as long as he still lives. I like to think they also lived with Moon until they passed themselves. Spent a ton of time listening to Moon reading the pearls he found out in the world, and exchanging stories (perhaps via writing..??) that they both have. Softanthiel still hangs around, primarily used as a way to gauge the danger of potential threats to the tree.

Spearmaster: It/They/He Definitely Looks like a slugcat but with something Wrong (on the wrong blueprints in a way). It is taller and longer than the average slugcat. Leaning more into the bodyshape it has in game (bowling pin looking ass) I’d say it has a harder time retaining fat through a liquid diet and constant movement as a messenger. Built quite sleek, I’d picture it with an agility somewhere between Artificer and Rivulet. Spearmaster has nasty little "spots" on his tail so why not give him little freckles too? SRS did not give SM a mouth, so, to me I think that he would be taught sign language. ASL (Ancient Sign Language) would no doubt be something stored and memorized on various pearls. Given its time around an Iterator it would also know how to read/write in the Ancient's language. I feel like they'd be quite a bit lonely.

Saint: They/He To me, they are a distant descendant of Monk. Their fur is very soft, almost like downy feathers in a way. Absolutely vital to their survival in the now frigid wasteland. Keen to grooming themself like a cat would! The echoes are old friends, a familiar warmth. Seeing them is like visiting family, of which Saint no longer has now. Definitely nomadic, never stays in a den for longer than three cycles. Lanterns are tucked into fur for ease of travelling with free hands. :) He's round and spotted because I love him so much!!

WHEW ok thats all. feel free to share your thoughts :)

note that i dont mind these designs being used or designs inspired by them but i would like my art to NOT be reposted.

[guiraguira]

Hi can I request ichiro hitoya and samatoki taking care of their fem s/o when she's having period cramps?

Helping you ✨

Hello!!💕 Yes! It really seems interesting to me and I don't usually see fics or hc on this topic (at least not from the fandoms I'm a part of)

Warnings: None in particular, just comfort for menstrual pain.

Ichiro - Samatoki - Hitoya x fem reader!

Ichiro

° He knows how menstruation works and has definitely read a lot of articles online about what to do to help you if something hurts. So when he sees you lying in the fetal position he can already imagine what is happening to you. Crouching down to your height he asks what he can do for you, he wants to know specifically what you need right now.

°"S/o, do you want some medicine? Some heat? Chocolate?" He gently strokes your hair as he asks you. Whatever the answer, he will bring everything in any way and leave it at your fingertips. He constantly asks you if the pain has decreased a little or is it still the same, he does it unconsciously because it hurts him to see you like this and even though this happens every month he never gets used to it.

° It will keep you company for long hours if the pain does not decrease and no matter how much you try to push it away, you will not be able to make it go away for more than a few minutes before being by your side again.

"Don't you have a job? I'm fine" but the pain just gets stronger and causes you to twist your face while squeezing your abdomen. He leaves the room only to re-enter with a tea "they say chamomile tea is good in these cases" and without the possibility of discussion he stays by your side waiting for you to finish it.

° He tries to distract you a little by kissing your head while he chats with you and gives you his "I'm acting natural, but if you suffer I suffer" look by holding your hand throughout the process, at some point the situation seems so funny that finally You make the pain go into the background.

° Forget about crying in front of him, your crying causes him to cry too in the worst case scenario. Applying a heating pad that he bought especially for you, he adjusts it as best as possible while he holds your face in his hands.

Samatoki

° He definitely knows a thing or two about what period pain is, but he's not as sweet with his words. He expresses himself best with his actions towards you, he will be totally at your gestures and movements, at the slightest sign of discomfort he will force you to sit down so that you do not strain.

° He will definitely force you to take some medication to dull the pain if they become too intense, otherwise he will bring you blankets so you can wrap yourself as you like. He perfectly masters the art of wrapping you so that the blankets give you comfort.

"This one is very soft, it looks like a stuffed animal" you say as Samatoki spins it around you and presses it against your body. "Yes and this one is a little heavier, so I'll put it on your waist" with a relaxed and calm voice he continues adding layers of blankets while he explains the function of it to you.

° Unfortunately, he doesn't have as much time to stay next to you as he would like, so when he can, he likes to replace the hot water bottle you use with his hands and allow you to lie on him.

"This month was worse, wasn't it?" The palms of his hands lightly squeeze your abdomen as he asks you. You moan in the affirmative and he moves to cradle you more comfortably as he caresses you with his thumbs in light circles.

° He can't see a single tear on your face so if you cry from the pain he freezes in place, he will ask you a thousand times if you don't want to go to the doctor so they can give you more effective medicine. He can handle being hurt, but he can't see you hurt, and if you refuse to go he has no choice but to offer you a back massage, hoping that it will relieve some of the tension.

° He will not let you clench your teeth or bite your lips to endure the pain, he is able to put his fingers so that you bite them in his place. When you relax a little he will bring you your favorite dessert so you can keep your mouth entertained.

Hitoya

° Yes, he has the entire situation under control for you and when you are in pain he pampers you without any shame. He is even capable of leaving work halfway and picking you up wherever you are if you tell him you can't get home because of the pangs of pain.

° He will prepare a bathtub for you with hot water and various treats so that the discomfort is reduced while he sits next to you chatting with you or washing your hair.

"We could try this new shampoo, Jyushi recommended it to me for you" he spreads the product gently over your scalp, pampering you in the process. The feeling of his hands and the heat of the bathtub has a positive effect on your pain.

° No matter how much he hid it, several times he asked Jakurai for the best way to help you and sometimes, those calls were in the middle of the night while he took note of everything the doctor said. You accidentally discovered the notebook where he writes it down but you decided to keep it a secret.

° He comforts you with massages, applying the necessary pressure on your back to relieve tension. Even if you are lying on your side and as compressed as possible, he will make sure to give you a good massage session.

° He tries not to kiss you while the pain lasts because he doesn't think that will help you much, but seeing you so bad, he can't channel his feeling of compassion and support in any other way than leaving the occasional solitary kiss on your cheeks, which at times They manage to warm your heart and distract your body.

° Your tears destroy his self-control and tranquility, gently wiping them away activates his emergency protocol. He gives you medicine and holds you until you fall asleep or the pain subsides, always wiping away any tears that may continue to come.

"The pills will take effect now, yes? I promise it will happen faster than you think" his hands caress your back giving you comfort "you're doing well..." he can repeat these phrases as if they were a prayer or a lullaby, the smell of his skin gives you peace and eventually you will fall asleep.

[dramioneasks]

Hey DA team! Let me start by saying I love this page and appreciate all the work you do here!

I’m reaching out because I am part of a group of fanfiction writers who are concerned about the recent onslaught of Etsy (and other online marketplaces) fic sellers and what this means for our communities. We want to do what we can to keep our fandom safe from the non-consenting monetization and exploitation of our creators by these unscrupulous people.

We're organizing a “blackout” (temporarily placing our stories in a private collection) the 10th-17th of March, starting and ending at 8:00am EST both days. During this period, we are asking writers to hide fics (either all or whatever they’re comfortable with), skip posting for that period, and use that time to share information to readers about why monetizing fan art poses a danger and how they can take action to protect fandom.

This isn’t intended to feel like a punishment for readers, but rather an opportunity to spread information and give them tangible resources for helping authors, artists, and fellow members of our community. We are aware that most people in fandom actively support writers and artists, and feel similar frustrations about the growing prevalence of bad actions by bad actors. We hope to use this time for educational purposes and to showcase what the monetization of fandom could mean for our community.

Our hope is that you would be interested in posting a message in solidarity and aiding us in spreading information to whatever extent you feel comfortable with.

To avoid shocking or scaring readers and flailers alike, we plan to spread the word in advance: on March 3rd we’ll announce that we’re implementing a blackout, what this means, and the dates. We will have more information for your group on or before that date if you would like but welcome any questions or thoughts you may have now.

We’re still working out all the kinks and feeling out who would like to join us in solidarity. Having our groups and writers’ spaces help promote this event would be a huge help in getting the word out, so we hope you will take part in a way that feels like a fit for your group. Even if you choose not to dive into this movement, I did think it pertinent that you be aware it's going on.

Please feel free to DM me for questions or reference our Tumblr @hpandtheantimonetizationblackout for more information.

-Fawkes in sox

^^^^^

[trashbag-baby666]

Cookies-Curt x Ken/Clegan

Summary: John's awkward and clunky interviews about Curt and Ken's crushes during the school day.

WC: 1,460

C/W: None, John being annoying

mota masterlist! | ao3 link

Pencil scratching, chattering, and the sound of John's incessant chewing filled Mrs. Simpson's art room during the recourse period. Every Wednesday and Thursday, art students and their friends poured into the room for a break from the rigors of academics, seeking solace in creativity or, in Gale's case, a quiet place to work on his AP World History homework. But the crunching of John's Chips Ahoy cookies was driving him mad, especially as he watched in disgust as a small glob of paint smeared onto the cookie John was about to pop into his mouth.

Gale scoffed, trying to ignore John and his oblivious snacking, but it was impossible. Across the table, Curt leaned back in his plastic chair, tossing John's stress ball up and down with practiced ease, snatching it out of the air every time it came down. One empty chair over sat Ken, He sat in his usual spot, the same one he occupied during his next-hour painting class. He didn’t know the other boys well, but John was in his painting class, and Curt had gym with him—where Curt had shamelessly flirted with him during the first month of school.

Something felt different today, though. Curt found himself watching Ken out of the corner of his eye, trying to decipher the feeling growing in his chest. It wasn’t just a fleeting attraction or the usual thrill of a quick hookup. Curt didn’t want to rush this—didn’t want to mess up whatever it was that was building between them. 

“What the hell!” John swatted at Curt’s hand as he reached for his cookies, but he missed his hand and whacked him with his paintbrush, leaving a glob of blue paint on his skin.

Curt, ever unfazed–and in love, plucked two cookies from John’s package and cleared his throat. “Kenny?”

Ken looked up, his curls falling into his eyes as he removed one of his AirPods. A small smile spread across his face, softening his features. “Thanks,” he said, his straight, pearly whites flashing as he took the cookies from Curt.

“Anytime,” Curt replied with a wink, feeling a warmth spread through him at Ken’s smile.

John, noticing the exchange, began making obnoxious kissing sounds, much to Curt’s annoyance.

“Shut your mouth,” Curt muttered, kicking John under the table. He could easily turn the tables and make fun of John for pining after Gale all these years—long before he had even known them. But he knew how uncomfortable Gale sometimes got about it, and Curt wasn’t in the mood to upset anyone today. Besides, if you asked Curt, he’d say Gale was just living in denial about his feelings.

Just as John opened his mouth to retort, the bell rang, sparing him from Curt’s inevitable teasing. Curt grabbed his backpack and Gale began packing up. As they did so, John caught Curt’s eye and jerked his head towards the door, signaling that he wanted to talk.

Once they were outside, John turned to Curt, his expression unusually serious. “What’s the deal with Ken?”

“Wuddya’ mean what’s the deal?” Curt crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

“Well are you just,” John made a hip thrusting movement, “Or are you gonna-”

“I don’t know, man…jus’ feel different about it, that's all.” he mumbled out the last part and looked to the linoleum for comfort. 

“Ooooh! Curtie has a crush!” John poked the boy's side, a huge smile erupting across his cheeks.

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth, ya bastard.” Curt nearly nudged John into the lockers behind them, trying to play his insistent blushing and bashful smile off, “Don’t wanna hear it from you, you’re too busy thinkin’ about fuckin’ Buck every godda-” 

John's freakishly large hands pressed over Curts mouth as a group of people walked by them. 

“When are you just gonna confess?” Curt tried speaking as he leaned his head back against the lockers to break free. 

“I don’t know…I just…You know how his family is and how he is and…yeah.” John looked away, turning away not wanting to look him in the eye. 

“Well, make sure ya do it before grandma Cleven has him in some fuckin’ arranged marriage.” Curt straightened himself out, “Shit.” he mumbled under his breath as the bell rang, “Bye.”

“Sorry,” John called out after him as Curt jogged away from him down the hall to his next hour welding class. 

John turned back into his painting class taking in the familiar smell of essential oils and acrylic paint. He loved the art room, he could find solace in his school day here. 

He dropped back down into his chair diagonal from Ken.

“Mind if I come look at your still?” John tried to lean to look at Ken's table easel. 

“Be my guest,” Ken flashed that warm smile at John. He could understand why Curt liked him, from what he knew about the kid he was just cute as a button. 

John stood back up and rounded the table, he saw the canvas and sucked in a breath. He had always been truly amazed by Ken’s seemingly flawless art skills. The canvas showed a warm color-heavy still of a vanity with a gorgeous long, white babydoll dress. In the mirror reflection, a lamp illuminates it in a warm glow. 

“Shit, that’s so fuckin’ cool.” John awkwardly leaned over his shoulder, unaware of his personal space. 

“Thanks,” Ken cheesed, “It’s a faint memory I have from being in my mom’s old dress up closet as a kid.” 

“Shit,” John was so thoroughly impressed, “Damn, I swear, every time I try to paint something from memory, it ends up looking like a kindergartner’s art project.”

Ken let a red glow cast the apples of his cheeks, the bashful smile pulling up. “I don’t know about that, I really like your projects.”

“Thank you,” John reached for his heart like he was so painfully touched. He glanced back over at his still life canvas laying on the table. You could kinda tell what was going on, the picture–John took himself–featured a Culver’s butterburger basket on the famous blue restaurant trey. While Ken’s looked realistic and the colors so smoothly blended, John’s didn’t. It looked just the slightest bit wanky, with blocky colors lacking shading and blending, unsteady and uneven thick lines, John could stand there all day and pick apart his canvas compared to kens. 

John sat back down at his seat and cleared his throat just before Ken could put his airpod back in, “Isn’t Curt such an ass?” John blurted out, out of nowhere, obviously just poking fun at his friend.

Ken’s dark eyebrows furrowed and he looked to the side for a moment, confused. “No…? I think he’s nice.” Ken rested his head on his hand, with a seemingly dreamy sigh, “Well at first I thought he would be different.”

“Don’t let his New York drawl and his sugar fool ya.” John tried to mock Curt’s accent, picking his paintbrush back up and began working back on the Culver’s still. 

Ken chuckled softly, a hint of fondness in his eyes as he turned his attention back to his painting. “I don’t know, there’s something genuine about him underneath all that.” Ken stopped and shrugged, his lips puckering as he looked for the word, “ Like, he’s trying to be this cool guy, but he’s actually just... sweet.”

John smirked, dipping his brush into the paint. “Sweet? That’s one way to put it. But, yeah... you’re not wrong. Curt’s a good guy, even if he snaps me in the balls with a towel in the locker room.”

“Oof,” Ken chuckled, dipping his paintbrush back in, “So what about you and Gale?”

“Oh, Buck?” John sucked in a breath, “We’re just friends, bff’s actually.” The man yanked the long chain out from under his hoodie showing off the pink half of a best friend's heart necklace. 

“My mistake, you guys just seem really close? Thought maybe-” 

“Oh, no, no it’s not like that…yeah, no homo bro.” John tried to play himself as cool as he could but he just looked clunky. He really hoped Ken didn’t plan on telling Gale about this. John rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “He likes you.” John tried to recover himself, his lips flying open before his hand flew over his mouth.

Ken’s glassy, green eyes got wide and his cheeks a dark red.

“Curt not Buck.”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” 

“Well, can you tell him I like him too?” Ken tilted his head, his warm smile back on his face. John’s heart skipped a beat and he knew Curt would still be pissed at him…but at least it went well?

- - Taglist: @austeenbootler @coastiewife465 @executethyself35 @slowsweetlove

[elendsessor]

hey update on the nocturne no fusion run: it’s gonna be on hiatus.

ik this is sudden especially since it’s lucifer time but i got insanely burnt out. the last few weeks haven’t been great (seasonal depression especially sucks ass) and though i’m finally climbing out of that slump, whenever something like this happens, i need to take a step back from whatever i’ve been playing so it doesn’t cause some sort of relapse. this goes for a couple other games i’ve been working on and have live-blogged about. this doesn’t mean i’m abandoning anything!!! i just likely won’t get around to it until much later.

i still have a lot of grinding and skill resetting to do and tbh it hasn’t helped much because it kinda just. made my brain more mushy than it already is. i’m all over the place in general so sorry.

since i’m not sure when i’ll finally finish what i started, i did want to share some thoughts because i’ve gained a bigger appreciation for nocturne all by running through it again.

first off i forgot how fun team building can be. maybe it’s because without fusion i can’t do much with the demons i can get, but dammit it highlights a problem with a lot of turn based rpgs being the very little breathing room with how you can set up your team.

look, i adore monster collecting games but god there tends to be a definitive “don’t use this unless it’s in a specific way” tier that applies to nearly every one of them. pokemon kinda avoids this problem because of hms/tms and the breeding mechanic but that takes significantly more time and a vast majority of the games are kinda fucking easy. challenging for a kid especially when you get to the stuff like the battle tower, but there’s no incentive to build a good moveset outside of competitive play, and trust me—as an ex-competitive player—it does ruin the non-multiplayer combat in a ton of ways.

but ps2 era onwards megaten somehow gets around this still via mechanics like skill mutation. it’s random and hard to trigger but there’s still freedom, plus the way the games have always encouraged team building and learning how mechanics work is so rewarding. rpgs (action or otherwise) are my bread and butter but so many of them do fail to understand the importance.

nocturne’s combat flavor is so weird. it’s broken. really broken. somehow that’s the fun in it? when people talk about bullcrap smt moments there’s a reason nocturne comes up because it’s designed to be bullcrap. it fits the whole “the vortex world is harsh and unforgiving” angle.

the story structure is something i appreciate a lot more despite how flawed it is. talked about it a ton in a previous post analyzing how it handles characters like chiaki.

there’s so many fun and unique shots and angles and general framework that tbh isn’t something any other megaten has captured since, assuming they try. for all the ones that do post-nocturne, dds is the one that got the most cinematic but it doesn’t play with colors nearly as much. i love the raidou games (especially 2) but 2 got rid of most of the cgs and you could tell both games had much less of a budget than other atlus projects during that era. 4 and 4a have beautiful art and do fun camera movements but the hardware limitations make it so there wasn’t a ton of actual proper cutscenes. 5 is also beautiful and is aesthetic af but camera angles aren’t played with during conversation scenes.

the actual general issue is that talking stuff. nocturne doesn’t have a lot of strictly talking scenes, and the ones that are there are so spread out that you kinda forget they’re there. plus, some of it comes from pov shots like when talking with hijiri which does help with perspective. not many games period actually take the time to play around like that, making a lot of scene set ups feel samey. megaten is no exception especially in the ds/3ds era, and it kinda got abandoned tbh. the portraits and art are good yeah but they can only carry scenes so far.

also gained a bit of appreciation for tde. no it’s not the best written ending—the “bad”/demon ending and freedom ending are definitely the winners here mainly due to thematic importance. yes, it’s really shitty that going for other routes gives you half the content. you can do the amala labyrinth and then back out after beating metatron (as long as you don’t get to the bottom afterwards you can go for any of the other endings), but that’s still tde adjacent. however… i love how morally ambiguous tde is.

it is promising in several aspects but the consequences of said actions are huge. there’s still manikins in the vortex world, an entire society being built from what remains of tokyo even after the whole fight for the right to creation stuff happens, but siding with luci means destroying everything they’ve worked towards. the demifiend can liberate his and other universes from the cycle of death and rebirth, but that’s only if yhvh is defeated and, by extension, the great will. the great will has appeared before in megaten and isn’t actually a being, more a concept, only able to be fought in a comprehensible state. it’s literally existence itself. who knows what’ll happen if someone kills off existence?

gonna be completely honest, this is probably my new favorite mainline game. there’s a lot to it that i keep discovering and loving. (also on like a fandom standpoint i haven’t had a bad experience with the nocturne side yet/haven’t seen much of the toxicity so i’m biased lol). actually fucking slaps. it’s not perfect and some of it is more learning to love than love at first sight, but dammit it’s good.

[nourishandthrive]

The Art of Mindfulness: Simple Practices for Everyday Life

Mindfulness is the practice of being present and fully engaged with whatever we are doing at the moment. It allows us to experience life more fully and manage stress more effectively. Incorporating mindfulness into your daily routine doesn’t have to be complicated. Here are some simple practices to help you cultivate mindfulness in everyday life.

Start Your Day with Intention

Morning Mindfulness: Begin each day with a few moments of mindfulness. Before you get out of bed, take a few deep breaths, set a positive intention for the day, and express gratitude for a new beginning.

Stretch and Breathe: Spend five minutes stretching and focusing on your breath. This helps wake up your body and mind, setting a calm tone for the day ahead.

Practice Mindful Eating

Savor Your Meals: Pay attention to the flavors, textures, and aromas of your food. Eat slowly and savor each bite, being fully present during your meals.

Listen to Your Body: Tune into your body’s hunger and fullness cues. Eat when you’re hungry and stop when you’re satisfied, without distractions like TV or smartphones.

Incorporate Mindful Breathing

Deep Breathing Exercises: Take a few moments throughout the day to practice deep breathing. Inhale deeply through your nose, hold for a few seconds, and exhale slowly through your mouth.

Belly Breathing: Place one hand on your chest and the other on your abdomen. As you breathe in, feel your abdomen rise. As you breathe out, feel it fall. This practice helps you stay grounded and calm.

Engage in Mindful Movement

Mindful Walking: Take a walk and focus on the sensations in your body as you move. Notice the feeling of your feet hitting the ground, the rhythm of your breath, and the sights and sounds around you.

Yoga or Tai Chi: These practices combine movement with mindfulness, helping you connect with your body and breath. Even a short session can enhance your sense of well-being.

Practice Mindful Listening

Active Listening: When conversing with someone, give them your full attention. Listen without planning your response or getting distracted. This fosters deeper connections and mutual understanding.

Listening to Nature: Spend time outside and tune into the sounds of nature. The chirping of birds, rustling leaves, and flowing water can be incredibly soothing and grounding.

Mindfulness at Work

Take Breaks: Set aside a few minutes each hour to stand up, stretch, and take deep breaths. These small breaks can reduce stress and increase productivity.

Focus on One Task at a Time: Multitasking can lead to mistakes and increased stress. Practice focusing on one task at a time, giving it your full attention before moving on to the next.

Create a Mindfulness Routine

Daily Meditation: Set aside a few minutes each day for meditation. Find a quiet place, sit comfortably, and focus on your breath or a simple mantra.

Evening Reflection: Before bed, reflect on your day. Consider what you’re grateful for, what you learned, and any moments you felt particularly mindful. This practice can promote better sleep and a sense of peace.

Embrace Mindful Technology Use

Limit Screen Time: Be mindful of your technology use. Set boundaries for screen time, especially before bed, and take regular breaks from your devices.

Digital Detox: Schedule regular periods of time when you disconnect from digital devices. Use this time to engage in offline activities that bring you joy and relaxation.

Conclusion

Incorporating mindfulness into your daily routine can significantly improve your overall well-being, reduce stress, and enhance your enjoyment of life. By practicing mindful eating, breathing, movement, and listening, you can stay present and fully engage with each moment. What are your favorite mindfulness practices? Share your tips and experiences in the comments!