#reaction to the whole 'we' thing. it tends to be a step too far into oddity for most people

[petrichorvoices]

we have a rule that we don't give our Tumblr to anyone we know offline, which is very handy for instances such as today where we, for whatever ungodly reason, let it slip to a friend that we have a Tumblr

[spikedhe4rt]

Word Count: 957

A/N: This was a request so I hope you enjoy. I haven't written fluff in a while so im sorry if it's rough. My request box is always open and I love you guys <3

✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

"Move asshole" I groaned as Steve sat next to me on the couch. He rolled his eyes, remaining in my space. "You're being such a B-" A loud voice came roaring from the kitchen, almost causing a echo through out the Curtis house. " Language, Steve!" Darry. I laughed at Steve getting called out by Darry. My laugh was hard to miss causing Darry to tell me to shut up too.

Ive known the gang for a long time, especially with Dallas being my brother. Most people think that he must have such a soft spot for me but truth is he's still him. Annoying as shit just in big brother form. Me and Steve never got along. He always acted weird towards me for no reason and I just return the favor.

I stuck my middle finger up to Steve and kicked him off the couch, causing a loud thud. "What the hell was that?" Soda exclaimed from the hallway. "I kicked the cow off the couch" I exclaimed with a laugh. Two-bit who was sitting on the floor with a beer busted out laughing with me. Steve pulled himself off the floor, mumbling something as he walked over to Soda.

It seemed like we could never go day without arguing or a fight. We even fight at the Dx while working: "Thats not how you're supposed to restock those." Steve said from behind me. I shrugged acting like I didn't feel his breath on my neck from how close he was. "Seems right to me. Leave me be, Randle." I continued to restock the candy till I felt Steve grab my hand and spin me around.

"You're still doing it wrong" his voice got lower, as he had me again the wall. I rolled my eyes. Men are so sensitive... "Really? All this over restocking candy? Get a grip, Steven" I spit my words like they were poison. "Screw you, Winston" I laughed at his words as he let go and walked away.

We kept our distance for the most part but it tends to get hard when the whole gang wants to hang out together. And when we run into each-other randomly. Sometimes I don't even get the point of why we're arguing we just do.

One thing is that we both know when something too far, subjects that are off limits. Its almost as if that we are protective of each other's feelings in a way.

Dallas and Soda live for the drama but sometimes even they get fed up. Once, me and him were arguing about whether Steves tattoo is dumb or not. It is. Dallas came over smacked the back of our heads and said "Do you guy ever shut the hell up?" then walked out. I was absolutely flabbergasted at that.

Even tho were "enemies" as Steve calls it, Ive wondered what it would be like if we weren't. If he hadn't acted like a asshole all the time, I wouldn't be one too.

                                ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It was my shift at the Dx. Today was Sodas off day so I was left with Steve. He was nagging at everything I was doing. "You're doing it wrong" , "Shut the hell up, Randle" , "Ive worked here longer than you", and "And yet, I'm still better at my job than you'll ever be" were being thrown across the room. After I said my last words, I walked into the back to get away from him. God, he is insufferable!

After about five minutes, I heard the storage room open. I rolled my eyes for the 5th time this  shift because I knew who it was. "Can you do your job" Steve said to me. I flipped him off and got up, stepping in front of him. "Can you stop running your mouth, asshole?" I pushed him lightly. He looked unamused as I pushed him again.

He rolled his eyes at me before grabbing my wrist and backing me up into the same wall as last time. Unbelievable...I scoffed at him "How many times are you gonna push me against this wall before you actually do something? You're a pussy." He scanned my face, examining my reaction.

We stared at each other for a couple seconds, like we were unable to speak. Once we made, eye contact it was over, his lips desperately attaching to mine. My arms came around his shoulders making him pull into me more. I felt myself being lifted lightly off the ground as Steves hands went down to my waist, signaling for me to wrap my legs around him.

Our kiss was fierce and filled with pure ecstasy, making our feelings that were always hate into love. Or thats what we thought at first but they were always love, it just felt like it needed to be hate because it couldn't be expressed well enough yet. It feels better to be on right side of it now.

We pulled away breathless, my teeth lightly catching lip bottom left before it truly ended. My head fell down to his chest, laughing as I realized what we had just done. When I looked back up, I was met with his smirking face. "I hate you so much, Randle." I joked.

Steve pulled me into another kiss, his hand coming to my face to deepen it. " Y'know, Ive liked you since we were kids. I just didn't know how to express it. I want to apologize for the past few years. Let me take you out, to make up for it?" He said looking down ashamed. 

I smiled at his words. "I forgive you, I guess. Now kiss me." For once, we actually had a good conversation.

[gaypplshallarise]

Things we left behind

This fluffy with slight tension(?) one shot of shadowpeach first meeting was brought to you by yours truly!

A/N: I've never read JTTW, or know the timeline exactly, so, if you're easily triggered by the inaccuracy to JTTW, stop scrolling! As for you, lovely reader who decided to stick around. I hope you enjoy!

Summary:

So, Sun wukong did the first thing he could think of to the unconscious monkey. Like any intellectual stoned-monkey.

smack!

The king waited for a reaction.

No response.

Okay. Maybe that wasn't the best way to approach the situation.

The sun shone, it lit up the whole forest, lights peaked through the leaves, birds chirping in the distance. A perfect weather to go on a walk. Sun wukong stretched his limbs, he'd spent too much time napping on a tree it seemed.

He hopped down, dusted some twigs off and skipped through the forest, feeling refreshed. Normally he'd prefer to just walk, but today's wind was friendly. So he summoned this trusty cloud and let it guide him, basking in the wind and morning light as he ascended up. The calm breeze felt nice against his golden fur.

The sun has always been a welcoming company, warm light grace his fur, as though intending to scoop him up in a warm, cozy blanket.

Not to mention, the view was breathtaking.

Below him, lay his island. Blessed by the jade emperors, gifted by divine beings themselves. Thick healthy shades of green covered the mountain area. No doubt he'd taken good care of this place. Even looking down from the cloud, the flower fruit mountain radiated life.

Next to the lush green essence, came the shore, sunlight casting down, virtuous sand sparkling, in response to the sun's nifty mood. Glitters of light reflected on the sea, horizon tattered with fishing boats and transportation ships.

Sun wukong could never get tired of seeing such view, no matter how many times he's seen it.

Just then, far corner of his eye, he spotted something on the shoreline.

Upon closer look, it seemed like a... black figure?

Oh. Someone's moving closer to the shore!

Holy shit. Someone was evading his kingdom? It's been so long since someone has ever stepped on this place. After all, who would dare to challenge the great sage equal to heaven?

No matter, he'd just get them out of here real quick. There wasn't a thing a bit of violence can't fix.

Shaking his pride away, he made his way to the target.

--

Now though, with shorter distances, he could make out the figure more. It was a macaque monkey, a knocked out one at that. Much to his disappointment.

He landed and approached the humanoid-monkey figure. Male, tan, with athletic build. gash and bruises scattered throughout the body, some were so prominent it was visible through the wet slacken dark fur. Sparks of salt were widespread amidst his obsidian black fur. Those scars were wide open.

Eh, nothing too severe.

But now, he'd have to figure out what to do.

So, Sun wukong did the first thing he could think of. Like any intellectual monkey.

smack!

The slap was loud and sharp, but not enough to do any real damage.

Wukong waited for a reaction.

No response.

Okay. Maybe that wasn't the best way to approach the situation.

Sun wukong has only seen someone else in a coma a few, never actually had any experience in properly handling the unconscious body.

Thus, the king tried to recall the moments when he snuck in a human village. Limited with only ever witnessed humans taking care of other sickly sleeping humans— There wasn't much he could revoke from the memories.

He checked the simian's heart rate. Inconsistent. Very Low. In fact, it was barely there at all. He was starting to question his actions now if saving the simian was worth anything.

Time was ticking.

On one hand, he could let the simian rot here and die.

"Nah, that would be too cruel." The king pondered.

On the other hand, he could gain more followers, saving him would mean the monkey would be indebted to him. He could use some help tending his garden— and this obscure simian seemed to be the perfect monkey for that. Sure, he has his loyal subject, but they were just regular monkeys— not the brainy ones.

It's settled then, he'll help this monkey.

--

The weight in his arms were heavy, which was nothing, of course. He'd have to be extra careful with the gash though.

The obsidian furred simian was already dried up by the time they arrived at his palace. Now seemed to be a good time to put it to use. He laid the dark furred simian on his bed. Not really sure where to go with this, he'd just have to think of something along the way.

Sun wukong retrieved his recollections of something related to taking care of sick humans, given he never knew how to, he supposed it would be the same for monkeys.

When someone's hurt they have to rest. But the guy is resting, for heaven's sake!

--

Finally he opted to take a wooden bowl nearby, very convenient, other hand plucked his fur out and blew on it.

The fur glowed a golden gleam before stretched and twisted, as if morphing itself into liquid. The matter became clear by the end of the process. It fell down the bowl with an oddly satisfying plop. Water done, he continued to do the same process to another group of fur, this time creating a piece of white cloth.

He began to shush the wet fabric around the other simian's body, upon closer inspection, the monkey had an odd looking six ears. Feathered red markings across the eyes, those were not scars though, it seemed to be the same part of the dark furred simian's face— Similar to the hearted peach-coloured marking on his own face.

The dark furred monkey stirred, snapping the king out of his thoughts. His gold eyes flickered to meet wukong's.

The king's thoughts were cut short as he found himself flipped, and pinned down. Sharp talons on his throat. The movement was so abrupt that it took him by surprise. His stomach were suppressed by the other party's knee. Which, admittedly, hurt. Both wrists bind by the tight grip above his head. Creating an awkward angle.

Moreover, Wukong was impressed that the dark furred simian was this strong. But also concerned about the fact that the other monkey's first instinct was to take him by his throat.

There was no doubt that wukong was stronger, but he also couldn't deny that the other party was impressively strong, despite having just woken up in a weakened state. Something in him ticked, but also excited.

Barely contained euphoria danced around the king's tail, forasmuch of the prospect of such a strong opponent.

He looked up, the other simian's golden eyes bored in fury towards him.

"Where am I" The dark furred simian hissed.

The grip on his wrists tightened, pair of golden eyes inched closer, zeroed on him intensely, warm breaths ghosted over his face.

Wukong suppressed a shudder as he replied, "O? I helped you. And this is how I'm treated?"

They stared at each other, unmoving. Sun wukong was the first to snap out of their deliberate state, "well?" He questioned.

No response, the other simian stared at him, unblinking. It was a little unnerving how still he was.

Gradually, the pressure on him slackened.

Figure above him pushed himself up, ready to make an escape. As soon as he did though, he tumbled down the wooden floor. The great sage bit back a laugh, whilst helping the dark furred monkey up.

Untrustful thoughts adorned the other's face, "No problem by the way" came the great sage remark. The other merely scoffed as he tried to pry the helping hand away. Wow. How unresentful.

He resisted the urge to slap the monkey in the face again.

"I was tryna help you man." Wukong complained.

"I'm fine."

Fine? He's talking nonsense at this point. This obscure monkey couldn't even walk without falling! and he's saying he's fine?

"you couldn't even walk without falling! and you say you're fine? Oh don't bother" Thoughts turned into words. He let his emotions mirrored the other simian's displeased face.

The dark furred monkey finally relented as he let his displeasure known. Wukong helped the dark furred simian get in bed again.

"Not even a 'thank you'?"

The other simian paid no heed. Instead, The king was met with a questioning look, golden eyes settled at a piece of wet cloth on the bed, probably being dropped at some point when he was pinned down. Wukong flushed at the mere memory of being tacked down so suddenly.

"What are you doing with it?" The obsidian furred raised a single brow, thus snapping the out of his inner-self rumination.

"Helping you duh. Y'know the cold compress thingy"

"Are you stupid or what?"

Sun wukong frowned, irritated, his tail dropped.

"That is for someone with a fever or swollen wounds. I have neither of those"

The king's face burned in humiliation, tail lashed uncontrollably.

"O-Oh yeah. I already knew that. Just wanted to do that. Haha— better safe than sorry" He was sweating profusely at this point. Damn to his short lived memory.

"anyways— I'll go get s'more herbs n' stuff"  He plummeted, voice weaving. The dark furred simian didn't have time to ponder much as Wukong raced through the door.

Even without looking back, the sense of eyes bored through his skull were so intense Sun wukong almost wished someone would just trap him under a mountain for 500 years.

He went to a far corner of the palace, recollecting everything that happened in a span of twenty minutes.

First thing first, he found a close-to-death monkey. Then he helped the simian out. Third, the dark furred pinned him by surprise, not to mention naked—

Oh heavens. That was so awkward.

__

By the time he came back, dark fur noticeably sank back into the cover. Granted, he looked more pleasant, unlike the previous bastard he was. He couldn't help but stare, drinking the sight in.

Sun wukong tried not to think about the fact that the other was naked too much. Instead, focusing on the closed eyelids, the calm rise and fall of his chest, as if the simian wasn't in pain right now.

From the light seeped from square shaped window, those obsidian furred seemed to suck in the light, imprisoned them without an escape.

The more he looked, the more he thought about how alike the obsidian fur was to shadows drinking in the lights like that.

The more he looked, the more he thought how those obsidian fur appeared messy, yet looked so soft.

The more he looked, the more intrigued he was.

Without thinking, he reached out to feel the fur against his palm.

"I advise you not to."

He retracted his hand. Oh shit— what was he thinking? reaching out like that? "I wasn't gonna do anything." He denied, although voice weaving.

"bullshit"

"You don't even look— how would you know that"

"...."

"See? I—"

"I heard you"

______

Ever since he's conscious, his senses heightened by ten folds. From the combination of monkeys and birds and variations of wildlife, Macaque couldn't extinguish the sound anymore, hustle of bushes and trees, flows of water in the distant and yet they seemed so close in his very mind.

The strongest sound of them all, a rhythm of heartbeat. Constant and strong to the six eared macaque's exposed sensitive flesh. Deepened his headache even more. He momentarily bit back a groan, instead, trying to turn it into his advantage, he willed himself to focus on the troubling sound alone.

Adjusting a while, the strong pulse drowned other sounds into white noises. Better.

Now without noises that intended to flood him, he then realized that he was laying in bed. Soft, silky linen beneath him. It has been a while since he'd had something this fancy. Macaque's eye lids felt too heavy, he couldn't will himself to open them.

A shuffling sound inched closer— With all his might, he ignored the throbbing pain all over his body and tackled the owner of the other heartbeat.

Golden figure became clear. Beneath him, shown another pair of golden eyes, surrounded by peach coloured markings. Their pulses quickened, his vision blurred. Chill wind met his scars. The feeling of pungent spread all over him. Macaque hated how exposed his body felt.

Rush of pain nearly made him wince. But once again, he forced them back.

Golden furred simian was warm. It exceeded throughout him, creating a buzz of unknown feeling in him. His gut coiled. His already fast pulse elevated. Sounds of their heartbeat alone were unbearably vociferous.

They stayed like that for a moment, the other's heartbeat never relented.

Macaque deepened crease on his brows, golden furred simian beneath him reeked of adrenaline.

"Where am I?" macaque inquired, although it came out more like he was threatening. His very own voice sounded hoarse to each set of ears.

Irritation flarred through him as the other simian stared at him with unreadable expression. Albeit inefficient, macaque formed numerous escape plans. You could never be too trustful of a stranger's intention.

--

The event ended with him trying to escape unsuccessfully.

Of course it would. How could macaque be so naive to even let himself believe it for a moment.

Where else would he be then? He could barely walk, Macaque blamed the myasthenia gravis, and had a massive headache. Wind has been acting up again, he shivered, tail shook and squeezed him tight.

Macaque found himself missing the warmth of a certain golden simian.

Sore limbs urging at him to give in to the warmth of silky texture under him. So he did. He gave up on escaping. His master would've found him in such pathetic state. Oddly enough, macaque couldn't bring himself to care.

So, the shade sank back, as if trying to feel the welcoming warmth the golden simian gave off not long ago. To have this kind of luxury. Moreover, he couldn't comprehend why someone that wealthy would help him.

With an aching body, his mind drifted into oblivion.

--

Pulsation flared anxiously, a pure mimic of chaos brought his senses back.

He heard the other lift a hand, for whatever reason he could not grapse, but there was no malice behind the action. But then why?

The shuffle sound's moving closer, almost like—

"I advise you not to."

An empty threat. He knew he couldn't lay a hand on the other even if he wanted. Hum of powerful magic was an indication of that.

A shufting sound drew backward. The other's heartbeat sped up again.

"I wasn't gonna do anything!"

How shameless. The golden furred was clearly trying to touch him. "bullshit" Macaque retorted.

"You don't even look— how would you know that!"

Of course he'd known. How the owner of the chaotic rhythm's breath struck his throat, momentarily forgot how to breathe.

Pumping of an anxious rhythm, threatening to over take all his hearing capacity.

The other simian rambled on about something he couldn't make out. Macaque, instead he chose to reply to the previous question.

"I heard you. You move too loud, it's like a fuckin earthquake in here."

He hoped that it wouldn't give away too much of his hearing ability.

The other made a grunted noise.

The smile threatened to overcome his face. Closing his eyes, the shade allowed himself to show the satisfaction.

"Ahem so anyway— How are you feeling?"

"Shitty" He groaned.

"Then rest!"

"Then leave me alone!"

"What— this is my room! Leave here by yourself"

He scrunched up his nose.

"Then I'm leaving" Realising his mistake, he tumbled down the bed. Fallen to his knee. Heat of humiliation crept up his face. Limbs felt jelly upon trying to move them, He couldn't even muster the strength to properly get up.

Pathetic.

It was like a deja Vu, golden furred simian helping him up again. But this time, he chose to not hissed or pushed the other away.

A 'thank you' wasn't necessary, but showing a little gratitude wouldn't hurt anyone, and this wasn't the time to held up his pride. If he was going eat a poisonous food, might as well did lick every inch of the plate. In addition, getting on the other simian's good side would only benefit him.

"...Thank you, errr—"

"Sun Wukong, King of the Flower fruit Mountain. Also known as great sage equal to heaven. Call me by whatever you want"

"....."

The other golden furred simian— Sun wukong grinned smugly, giving him an expectant look.

"Right.. Thank you, Sun wukong."

The king's face brighten, his whole posture seemed a lot more alight, tail swaying rapidly, resembling an excited puppy— or to be more precise, a monkey. Macaque almost snickered at the accuracy.

Wukong's shenanigans weren't done though. Golden fur ball continued on with his nonsense.

"What's your name?"

"I'm six-eared Macaque."

"That's a very accurate name."

The stupid grin adorned Sun wukong's face was impossibly wider. It was annoying.

So, so, annoying. Does this monkey think he's cute doing that?!

"What else can i help you?"

'What's the point with this?'

"What do you mean by that?" His face fell, the king sent a disappointed look.

Has he really wondered it aloud? Curse him.

"You. Helping me. Why?"

The king did not falter under his stare, he went silent for a moment, as if trying to conjure up the best answer.

"I just wanted someone to tend my Garden."

The shade quirked a single brow. Sun Wukong's posture shifted slightly, seemingly more reserved.

"Bahh, That's not really the true reason— but honestly that was the first thing i thought when i met you."

Since when, he did not know, Sun wukong has already seated himself on a chair. The shade wasn't entirely sure what his impression gave off. Macaque guessed that his silence was taken as a permission to continue. "But seriously, I think it's just.. I'm so lonely, y'know what I mean?"

He searched the simian's face. It gave off nothing but sheer honesty. The six-eared macaque then focused on the pulsation. Stable. No trace of lies.

"..I feel like that too"

Before he knew it, he'd already admitted that. Suddenly feeling like a prisoner confessing his crimes.

There was something about Sun wukong. Something that made him feel warm, and weird, and lighter— fuzzy feelings, blinding him, as though to forcing him to spill all his past, his secrets and insecurities.

He swallowed them down like a bile.

He would not tolerate any more reckless behavior.

A warm hand met his. Macaque never noticed that his fists were clenched. The king fixated his gaze on the shade. His body was radiating warmth, much like the name "Sun wukong"

The great sage rubbed their hands reassuringly. Macaque, unwillingly, relaxed himself against the contact.

The shade mentally cursed for letting himself get so heavily influenced under the king's gentle hold.

"But enough of those depressing shit. How can I help you?"

"How about leaving me alone?"

"After I poured my heart out like that? Nuh-uh!"

The mood changing was so abrupt. But he was glad to finally deal with something lighter.

They bantered for a while, as though they've known each other for ages. The ability to exchange snarky remarks and occasional jab was something he admired about Sun wukong.

After a while, he was exhausted with all the energy used, despite having only spoken and laughed. The great sage seemed to notice. Soon, without the other's initiating, their conversation died down.

"You sure don't need other thing?"

"God. You're impossible! Fine, Just give me something to eat. Whatever."

Sun wukong happily skipped away, humming an unfamiliar tune.

"How about some peaches?"

His ears perked up, and Macaque merely nodded.

[trickstarbrave]

this fic is still not done but. i wanted to post another part

part three can be found here

nerevar and voryn reunite :)))))))

i still have to write up more stuff about nerevar now officially joining house dagoth. and how annoyed he'll be about the whole thing.

They arrived in Blacklight as expected, waltzing into Blacklight’s palace with identification. When they pulled Nerevar from the cart, still wrapped in the blanket looking exhausted, a little filthy, and miserable, the guards looked at them with heavy skepticism, but allowed them entry regardless. 

Nerevar had to admit, at least to himself, he was anxious. Somewhere in between the bouts of numbness and feeling empty and unreal, there was fear of what was to come swirling in his stomach, and he was sweating excessively despite the cold weather--and that was saying nothing of the way his thoughts were racing, replaying events, all while everything happening around him seemed to be going far too slowly and far too quickly at the same time. 

They exited the propylon chamber back in Kogoruhn, and Nerevar’s stomach flipped. Being back once again in the familiar walls should have brought him some comfort, but it didn’t. Years of happy childhood memories couldn’t wash away what happened six months prior, after all, nor the knowledge that he had been brought here to die. In the air he could still faintly smell Voryn, and that fact alone had him trembling, the urge to bolt stronger than ever. 

He would have said he wanted to see Voryn one last time, but even Nerevar knew that would be a bad idea. Voryn would only be hurt more, in the end, even going so far as to refuse to let them hurt Nerevar and getting hurt in the process. And Nerevar knew he wouldn’t be able to accept his death as he had up until now if he was back in Voryn’s arms once more; he’d refuse, clinging to Voryn and begging not to leave him again. His heart was unsteady even just thinking about such a thing, his resolve crumbling bit by bit.

As soon as the servants saw Vemyn and Odros had returned with Nerevar in tow, the reaction was immediate. Not quite chaos--but things definitely turned busy, servants darting around as they rushed to get things into place.

The chief healer, Llevena, quickly arrived as well, flanked by two more healers. Nerevar recognized one of them as the other who inspected him to make sure he didn’t have a claiming bite before his exile, though the memory was only making the encounter more sour as he remembered the humiliating experience of being touched, inspected, and even undressed while he was in heat when all he wanted to do was curl up and hide. 

“We found him.” Vemyn announced to her, before stepping aside and letting the guards drag Nerevar off to follow behind Llevena now. 

“Thank gods,” Llevena sighed, Nerevar struggling a bit as he was pulled now.

“Be careful, he’s already combative.” Vemyn scoffed.

“Have the potions and scents been helping?”

“To a point.” Vemyn replied, walking behind them as Nerevar was led down hallways he didn’t typically enter. This area of Kogoruhn was typically used for magical research of various kinds, though it did also include where healers tended to have their offices and conducted studies. Normally if he was injured though a healer came by to see him outside as the caravan was unloaded or they came to his room per Voryn’s request. “He has been able to keep food down though.”

“That’s to be expected.” Llevena sighed. “Alright, get him on the table. We need to get him ready.”

Anxiety hit Nerevar again. Were they going to do some experiment on him? He dug his heels in more, using all the strength he had left to try and break out. One of the other healers foolishly tried to grab him herself, and Nerevar didn’t hesitate to instinctively bite her. 

“Ow--fucking--!” The healer swore, before casting a healing spell on her hand. “He fucking bit me!” 

“He’s a distressed omega in heat, what did you think was going to happen?” Llevena snapped back. “Where’s the robe?” The third healer pulled out a red robe, cast a spell, and before Nerevar could process it, she was pressing the fabric to his nose.

All of Nerevar’s muscles went lax for a moment, his eyes fluttering shut. The robe smelled spicy, musky, nostalgic, and warm. 

It smelled like Voryn. Just like him too--the scent fresh and strong, enough to make him feel absolutely weak. It was enough of a distraction for them to hoist him onto the table, pinning him down, though he could still stroke at the red fabric with one hand to soothe himself. His body recognized it before his brain fully did, but this scent was Voryn in rut, a few pheromones of distress and anger on it, though mostly it was…

Nerevar growled as a healer pulled his shirt up, trying to kick. Someone besides Voryn was touching him, and he hated it. Llevenna grabbed a different section of the robe--one further down the body where the scent was even stronger, and pressed it closer to his nose. A loud keen escaped him as his body grew warm and fuzzy to the point Nerevar felt dizzy. They were touching his lower stomach, but his brain wasn’t fully processing it, instead getting intoxicated off of Voryn’s scent. 

Finally, after a few more moments, it began to wear off. His brain quickly realized Voryn was not in fact there, and he remembered he was being held down to a table. He began struggling again, growling and swearing, as he felt them gliding something across his lower stomach. Was that--a brush? That didn’t seem right that they’d be writing on him with a calligraphy brush, but whatever it was it was ticklish and irritating and--

“Done.” Llevena wiped sweat from her brow.

“I’ve never seen someone write a seal on someone so fast.” 

“I’ve written hundreds of these.” Llevena replied with ease, and Nerevar was finally allowed to yank his shirt down and curl up in on himself. Upon glancing down briefly before the fabric coveredit, Nerevar saw there was in fact daedric writing on his skin--black letters as though written on a spell scroll--and no matter how much he tried he couldn’t wipe it off. 

“Should we clean him up?” One of the healers asked.

“I’m not bathing him after he nearly broke my hand biting me!” The other snapped, and Llevena glared at both of them.

“Just hurry and get him to the room.” Llevena scowled, rubbing her temple. “Besides, his alpha will want to clean him anyways.” Nerevar tensed at that.

‘His’ alpha? Nerevar had no fucking alpha. He was unmated. They already knew that and made it clear. 

Did they bring him back not to kill him, but instead force him to mate with someone else? The thought was nauseating. He didn’t want to mate right now--all he wanted was to go to sleep. To bury him face in the robe now clenched in his fist, to stop thinking, and to go the fuck to sleep. He’d prefer just the poison than whatever sick plans they had of having another alpha claiming him just to torture Voryn. 

And sure enough, as the guards went to drag him off he really tried fighting them, hurling profanities, swearing at them, scratching and biting whenever possible--though it did little given their armor and his weakened state. Then, as he was trying to get away, he heard the sound of magic being cast, and a wave of calm washed over him. 

“I thought the scent would be enough to keep him calm but I suppose not.” Llevena sighed again, Nerevar going limp, being carried over Beryl’s shoulder. 

It was a long walk, Nerevar dazed the whole time, his eyes closed as he instead breathed in the scent of Voryn all over again, the mental high coming back. 

And then he was back on his own feet, swaying, standing in front of Voryn’s door.

Was he dreaming? It felt like he was. The scent was pouring out of the room though--tinged much more strongly with rage, anger, and a deep sadness. The guards knocked, earning a loud growl from Voryn this time, before they spoke.

“We found him, young master.” The growl stopped, and loud footsteps approached. The door was thrown open, Nerevar still dazed, and Voryn dragged him into a firm embrace. 

“Neht--!” A deeper warmth bloomed in him, this one different from the dizzying high he felt before. Right now he felt sparks wherever he was touching Voryn, much more compliant as Voryn tugged him in and shut the door behind him, locking it. 

“Oh thank gods you’re alright.” Voryn whispered. “You don’t know how worried I was…” Voryn took him to the bed, nuzzling him and stroking him to scent him thoroughly. “Nerevar--”

If he was dreaming, Nerevar didn’t want to wake up. He cut Voryn off by wrapping his arms around Voryn’s shoulders, tugging him down into a kiss, his body feeling warm and right after so long. Voryn’s hands were all over him, much more welcomed than being tugged around and manhandled like before, his body eagerly leaning into it. Voryn straddled him, kissing him back just as deeply, even going so far as to wrap one of Nerevar’s legs around him so he could press himself firmly against Nerevar’s body. 

Ah, this was perfect. Nerevar never wanted this to stop, his previous fears about dying completely gone. In fact, every negative thought vanished from his mind as the kisses grew lazier and lazier on Nerevar’s end, his body feeling heavy. Now that all of the stress had melted off him he felt so very, very tired, and back in the safety of Voryn’s arms all he wanted to do was get some sleep properly.

“Mm, Neht,” Voryn mumbled against Nerevar’s lips as he pulled away slightly, before chuckling at how tired Nerevar really looked. “... Why don’t you rest for now?” Voryn asked quietly. “I can get you cleaned up tomorrow.”

“I… I don’t want to sleep.” Nerevar confessed, struggling to keep his eyes open. “I don’t want to wake up with you gone.” 

“I won’t be.” Voryn whispered, before curling up with Nerevar on the bed. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, I promise.” He pressed another soft, lingering kiss to Nerevar’s lips, the gentleness enough to leave his head spinning. 

He tried fighting it, desperately trying to keep his eyes open. He couldn’t help but feel like this would be over when he woke up; he’d leave this wonderful dream behind, and instead be in a prison cell, left hurting even more than before. 

But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t keep his eyes open for much longer. Voryn was gently rubbing circles on his scalp, holding him close, the smell so strong and vivid and right. He finally felt safe and comfortable in Voryn’s arms, all of the exhaustion from the past six months catching up to him. Not even those potions they fed him could compare to this peaceful bliss.

His eyes fluttered shut, and against his wishes, he found himself sleeping peacefully. 

--

“Mmm~” Nerevar groaned in delight as he sank into the warm water, relaxing. 

When morning came, Nerevar was shocked to find himself actually in bed with Voryn. Voryn was already awake, rubbing soothing circles on his stomach, smiling warmly at him as soon as Nerevar opened his eyes. He was so shocked in fact he yelped and nearly fell out of the bed, knocking a few pillows onto the floor in the process, but Voryn tugged him close once more.

Nerevar had apparently slept about 16 hours. Double than usual, though it made sense given how exhausted and stressed he was. When he was on the run in his ‘exile’ he was sleeping less than he should, maybe only around 6 hours at most, though it never felt very restful and he was constantly waking up all hours of the night, sometimes rushing off to scrub his skin raw in a bathing house in an effort to get the phantom scent of Voryn off him.

“Enjoying yourself?” Voryn asked, climbing in behind him. Nerevar’s cheeks flushed slightly, his ears twitching.

“Yeah,” Nerevar admitted. “I really needed a bath.” It had been a good week since he had a proper cleaning, and even longer to have one with some decent hot water to soak in. Towns he stayed in on the run didn’t always have hot springs to get hot water from and bathing houses that did offer hot water from fancy Dwemer boilers (that House Dagoth so kindly introduced to the chimer) were expensive.

“I’m glad I get to finally clean you up properly.” There was genuine mirth in his voice, combined with relief. 

Nerevar still wasn’t used to this, as Voryn rubbed soothing circles on him. Voryn had already scrubbed him down before they got in to soak, as per bathing customs of Resdayn, taking his time and doing so with surprising gentleness. They used to bathe together when they were young, but that had stopped when they were preteens, just before they presented. The closeness was nice but he just… Still hadn’t processed what Voryn had told him.

They were fated mates. The reason he went into heat early all those months ago was likely because of Voryn’s pheromones all over him all day, his body knowing deep down it was his mate. The reason why they were both overwhelmed by the desire to mate properly was because the draw was already in effect, desperate to have a bond properly formed already. The reason for his declining health too was the very same: his body was under high stress being apart from his destined mate, getting only worse and worse by the day. Had he fled to Skyrim it likely would have done him in within a few months, and doomed Voryn along with him. 

Nerevar tried to deny it initially, before the evidence became too much to ignore. The potions Vemyn and Odros fed him on the road was a special one—a brew used to soothe the pull of a fated mate bond by tricking the body into thinking their mate was nearby, at least enough that the worst symptoms faded and made them more functional. By Azura, they wouldn’t have bothered dragging him there alive if it wasn’t for something important, a fact he only realized in hindsight now that paranoia and anxiety weren’t clouding his senses.

He owed that healer in Tear an apology. If he had been willing to listen, he might have been able to see Voryn sooner. But at the time he could only focus on survival, and feared encountering House Dagoth again would only mean death. Maybe he’d write her a letter and say she was right, maybe send her a bit of coin too while he was at it. She had been taking him seriously, unlike any other healer, and he was too stupid to see it.

But the fact was still shocking. It still hadn’t fully set in, if he was being honest. Voryn? His mate? It felt absurd. He had ambitions in life, yes, but he never coveted the position of being Voryn’s mate. Instead he hoped to use his skills in battle—if not here than perhaps in a different place or for a different house—and prove he was skilled in leadership and politics while he was at it. Being Voryn’s mate wasn’t anything he’d even considered; sure, he was prepared to use his connection to Voryn if need be, but he’d already earned Voryn’s friendship genuinely. But being his mate was…

Higher status than even a spouse. If Nerevar did, for whatever reason, aspire for political power by sleeping with Voryn, the most he could have hoped for was doing so in secret, or maybe to become a concubine. But they weren’t even just mates but fated mates, a bond that was a source of envy to many mer. 

Voryn rubbed circles on his lower stomach now, and Nerevar’s brows furrowed as he once again inspected the daedric script on his stomach. Reading it upside down also wasn’t doing him any favors in understanding, if he was honest.

“What even is this…?” Nerevar asked. It had to be important given the healers went out of their way to do so when Nerevar was so difficult. They knew what an extremely distressed omega was like, and that Nerevar would be potentially beyond that, but still chose to hold him down and put it on.

“A seal to protect you from conceiving temporarily.” Voryn explained. “Given your health I don’t think they believed potions were a good option right now, nor did they want you risking a pregnancy like this either.”

Ah, that made sense. They just found Nerevar and the last thing they needed was Nerevar dying from complications of a poorly timed pregnancy. Fated mates suffered immensely when their partner died, after all. Perhaps that was Nerevar’s instincts when he realized that, and responded by desperately trying to protect his own life for Voryn’s sake.

“Ah.” Nerevar sighed, before leaning back.

“You lost far too much weight.” Voryn frowned. “A lot of your muscles have softened too.”

“I barely wanted to practice with my sword, let alone had the energy to.” Honestly, that was another sign something was deeply wrong with Nerevar; he loved the sword more than anything, since he was a child. Not just the sword, but moving his body, training with weapons. He liked spears and axes too, enjoying the way they forced him to work other parts of his body. Not moving around made him all the more miserable, as he lost his passions entirely. “I also just… Couldn’t eat much.”

“Don’t worry,” Voryn whispered. “You’re back, and you can eat your fill again.” Nerevar chuckled at that; his nausea was gone now that he was back in Voryn’s presence and he was hoping his appetite would return soon as well. 

“You’ll feed me again?” Nerevar asked teasingly, before Voryn kissed his ear, earning a gasp, followed by laughter at how ticklish it felt.

“Yes.” Voryn replied, smiling.

“… When did you want to do the claiming bite?” Nerevar asked. The healers said there wasn’t a guarantee the symptoms wouldn’t start back up if they didn’t form a bond soon. The relief wouldn’t last forever after they were kept apart for so long. 

“We should at some point today.” Voryn answered, before nuzzling into a scent gland on his neck. Nerevar shuddered and keened softly; even the healers just looking at his neck before had him a wreck. No doubt it was his body panicking about the chance of someone else claiming him instead of Voryn. “The sooner the better.”

“You could have earlier.” Nerevar replied.

“You were exhausted.” Voryn frowned. “I wasn’t going to bite you when you were about to fall asleep. I want you to be awake and fully conscious of what I’m doing.”

“I’m awake right now…” Nerevar whispered back teasingly, and he quickly felt Voryn tense up.

“… Gods dammit Nerevar,” Voryn groaned, before licking at his scent gland. Instantly, his body heated up, lust pumping through him as instinctively his head tilted, giving Voryn more room.

“A-ah, here?” Nerevar asked, gasping and moaning softly. “In the tub?” 

“You’re the one who said such a cocky thing,” Voryn nipped playfully, and Nerevar keened, his hips squirming. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“Mm,” It felt good, but he knew that wasn’t quite how he wanted it. His body was so desperate he would have just accepted it, but if given the choice… “Your bed, claim me in your bed…”

“On my bed, properly?” Voryn asked as Nerevar moaned. “Right where you belong?”

“Yes,” Nerevar hissed. Fuck did it sound hot when he said it like that. “Fuck yes~”

Nerevar found himself being tugged out of the tub, Voryn kissing him the whole walk back to the bed. Private bathing chambers was another dwemeri invention, only for nobility in chimeri culture, but something Nerevar was insanely grateful for at the moment. They almost slipped once on the tile in their passion and due to not drying off properly first, but Nerevar managed to catch them on the doorframe, one arm tightly around Voryn’s waist.

“Should I touch you first?” Voryn asked the moment Nerevar’s back met the sheets. “Or should I just claim you right now?”

“Can you even wait a few minutes to touch me without claiming me?” He challenged, only to laugh as Voryn gave the back of his thigh a squeeze.

“I don’t know, do you trust that I can?” 

Nerevar smirked back, leaning in to kiss him again, before guiding Voryn’s hand between his thighs.

“Touch me while you’re doing it?” Nerevar’s lips brushed Voryn with every movement, their breaths mixing. He let out a muffled moan of pleasure as Voryn’s fingers found his dick, before Voryn’s lips trailed down to his jaw and neck.

“Oh gods,” Voryn’s voice was trembling. “I get to finally make you all mine…” Voryn groaned, before he sunk his teeth into Nerevar’s neck. 

The moment Voryn’s canines sunk in, claiming him properly, Nerevar felt his body alight with pure pleasure, unable to even think properly. His mouth opened as a long, loud moan ripped its way out of his throat uncontrollably, body trembling in pure ecstasy, Voryn’s fingers still working at his cock. Voryn even went so far as to keep his teeth in there, digging them a bit deeper. A mate touching the spot of a claiming bite after the bond was formed was pleasurable, and it wasn’t uncommon for mated pairs to relive the ecstasy and re-establish their bond by biting again, but feeling his teeth remain there had him dizzy. The white hot pleasure stopped, leaving able to think semi-properly, before waves and waves of pleasure followed and his eyes rolled back again.

“Too much~” Nerevar groaned. “It’s too much, it’s—Voryn~!”

After his second orgasm, Voryn finally let him go, removing his teeth from Nerevar’s neck.

“Ah…” Nerevar starred up, dazed, “Fuck…”

“Do you see why you needed that seal on you?”

Nerevar panted, unable to reply. Nerevar was still recovering and hadn’t even eaten a proper meal yet. He didn’t actually consider Voryn mating with him immediately until his little joke went too far, and he couldn’t tell if it was a good idea to let Voryn knot him right now while he was at it. 

“Ah, will you actually…?” Nerevar asked, spreading his legs a bit wider as his voice trailed off. He was rewarded by two fingers slipping inside him.

“You know I want to,” Voryn whispered. “But you should eat properly and get more rest before I do.”

“You want to so badly, don’t you…?” Nerevar moaned softly, his eyes going half lidded as he smirked up at him. “You know I’ve hardly been able to get off without you Voryn…” It was the truth, and he was hoping it would have an effect on his alpha. “I missed your touch… I missed you so badly…”

“Fuck,” Voryn swore before his lips crashed into Nerevar’s, “Filthy little scamp,” He growled, a softer, more playful one than one of aggression. “I should. I should take you and knot you, just like you deserve. You want that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Nerevar hissed. “Yes, knot me~” Gods did he miss Voryn’s knot so badly right now, his cunt aching for it. 

“Not yet,” Nerevar groaned in response, though Voryn also sounded heavily disappointed himself, “I want you to rest a bit more.”

“Voryn,” Nerevar was about to start up again, but Voryn hushed him. 

“Just wait a bit longer to eat and relax, and then I will.” He promised. “Just think of it like this—you’ll feel better with more energy to enjoy it then.” 

He had a point. Given how little he’s eaten he wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t exhausted and hungry halfway through, ruining the mood. Reluctantly, he let the issue go, sighing. Voryn equally reluctantly removed his fingers and pressed a kiss to Nerevar’s cheek.

[boundinparchment]

Dream a Little Dream of Me - XIX

Celestia has a cruel sense of humor. He’s always known this, ever since his days as a student. But a soulmate? Really? Dottore/Female Reader Soulmate AU. Lore speculation, interpretations, etc. AO3 Chapter is Here.

You were a long way from the main road.  Nothing here looked familiar at all and despite the recognizable smells and sounds, you truly had no idea where you were.

It all started with a game of hide and seek, you recalled.  You were out for a weekend to the countryside on the border of Sumeru with the rest of your class, a momentary reprieve to let all of you have some fun after your latest recital.  You hid with the rest of your classmates but at some point you stopped hearing them and no one else came looking for you.

It wasn’t entirely surprising.  You had friends, yes, but that loyalty only extended so far.  Outside of the classroom, outside of confinement to your instrument section, everything was fair game. 

You sighed.  Even if you wanted to go back to the big house, you couldn’t; you wouldn’t know the first direction to go in.  

So instead, you followed the sun, heading what you presumed was west.  Eventually you came upon a creek that led out to a larger stream.  The grass was greener here, softer too.  You heard a snap nearby and nearly jumped when you caught sight of a kid, not much older than yourself, stumbling out of the woods on the other side of the stream.  Turquoise hair, dusted with leaves, and eyes so red you first thought he might be sick.  He was dressed in what you had recently learned was a salwar kameez; loose trousers and a long tunic.  

You received a harsh glare as he brushed the leaves from his hair.

“Who are you?  Another person to throw stones at me?”

His words were venomous, defensive, and the look in his eyes made you take a step back.  You’d done nothing wrong to warrant such a reaction.

And then you noticed the cuts and the bruises across his face and palms.  Crimson eyes watched you as he rinsed his hands in the stream, wincing at the wounds.

“If you aren’t here to stone me, then perhaps you’re here to take me back so the village leader can finish what he started?  So you can be rid of the heretical monster once and for all?”

You shook your head, too stunned to speak.  Had he really just been harmed by his whole village?

“Are you mute?” he snapped.

“No, I’m not mute,” you threw back.

His smile was sharp, almost cruel.  “You talk funny.  Where are you from?”

The other child tore the edge of his tunic, using the strip to wrap his hand.  He seemed practiced at such things, as if he had tended his own wounds before.  You wouldn’t have known the first thing except for washing the cut.  Usually your parents and the teachers took care of such matters.  Your fingertips ached at the sight, remembering how easily you used to cut open your own skin when you played for too long.

“Fontaine.”

His eyes lit up.  “Really?  What’s it like there?”

“Kinda dirty and super smelly,” you admitted.  “The sky isn’t as blue as it is here.”

“Do you have machines?  Robots?  Is it true that you get around in carriages and wagons that can fly?”

He seemed eager to know, his pain all but forgotten at the mention of your homeland.

“The rich people do, I’ve never ridden one.  We have factories and those use machines to make stuff.”

“Tch.  What’s the point of all of those machines if you don’t get to use them?”

“They make things easier?” You shrugged, at a loss for words.  No one ever really taught you why machines were important, just that they existed and that you needed to stay away from them.

You watched as the boy’s attention was drawn from you to something else.  He seemed to be talking but there wasn’t anyone or anything near him.  

“Ararycan, what do you think?”

An imaginary friend, maybe?

You looked up at the sky.  The sun was still pretty high in the sky and you couldn’t have been that far from the big house.  Maybe you could ask him for directions and be on your way.  You didn’t want anyone to worry more than necessary.  Would he even know the place you were staying?

You were snapped out of your thoughts again, the boy’s voice eager.  

“Do you want to see a really cool machine?”

“I should really get back–”

“It’s way better than anything Fontaine has!”

He was so excited, as if he hadn’t been hurt, and your heartstrings tugged.  It would be nice to have a friend in Sumeru.  And he seemed kind enough, if a bit odd.  His smile was soft, happy.

“Is it far?” you asked.

“You probably passed it, it’s on your side of the water.  I’ll show you!”

“As long as it’s not all that far.  My school is staying over the border, there’s a really big house, and I wandered too far…I don’t know how to get back.”

As you spoke, the boy easily navigated the stream and the slippery rocks dotting its surface, hopping across.  He must do it a lot, you realized.

“Oh, that place,” he said, his tone flat.  “What I want to show you is on the way.  Ararycan and I can get you back.”

“Arary–” the word felt slippery on your tongue and you frowned.

“Ara-ry-can,” the boy enunciated and then pointed to his side.  “He’s an Aranara.”

“Aranara?  What’s an Aranara?”

It was the boy’s turn to be confused, his nose scrunched.

“You…you don’t know what an Aranara is?”

“No, we don’t have them in Fontaine.”

“Fontaine is weird,” he said at last before he turned and began walking the way you originally came.  “Are you coming or what?”

You chased after the boy, catching up in no time.

“What’s your name, anyway?” you asked as you trekked through the grass, offering your name in exchange for his.

He repeated your name with ease, acknowledging that he’d heard it correctly.

“I’m Zandik.”

His name was burned into your mind, along with his joyous, infectious smile.

____________________

“You cannot just—”

“I think you’ll find I can,” you retorted, your voice firm.  “The terms of the patronage with your family were very specific.  I cannot and will not be prevented from seeking employment and leaving if I find an opportunity that is to the benefit of myself.  I have that freedom, monsieur.   I am merely extending the courtesy of notice.”

Your eyes fell upon the lawyer at your patron’s elbow, who could only affirm what you said and cite the exact clauses of the contract.  No laws were broken; the contract was upheld.  Legally , he could do nothing to prevent you from leaving.

“And you find that performing on behalf of the government, serving as nothing more than propaganda, to be an opportunity?”

“That is for me to decide.  No one else.”

He chuckled and leaned back in his seat, fingers playing with his signet ring.  You hated that thing.  You could still feel the bruise it left on your skin.

“What a shame.  When you first arrived, I thought you might be a permanent fixture of this house.  But you are right, I cannot stop you nor prevent you from leaving,” he spoke mildly.  “The appropriate papers will be drawn up and left for you to sign while I am in Court tomorrow.  You may leave after they are done.  You will not be receiving the rest of your stipend for the month.”

“Oui, monsieur.”

“Get out.”

You bowed and took your leave, releasing your breath only when you reached your room at the top of the stairs.  Your Geo Vision was gripped tight in your folded hands, your knuckles white and the metal setting pressing hard into your fingers.  Packing was easy; you owned little.

The next morning, you scrawled your name across a nondisclosure agreement and a waiver, both of which the lawyer filing them assured you were standard for these arrangements.  You doubted that, given some of the clauses buried in each of them, but held your tongue.  They were not worth the fight, not when a new life was so close.

Despite the low smog creeping up from the lower districts, the first breath of air you took outside was the sweetest one you’d taken in years.  They only seemed to get sweeter with the closer you drew to your new destination.

____________________

“It’s not much farther!”

Your legs were more than ready to give out.  They’d long since turned to pudding.  Why did it have to be this far from the city?

Zandik’s enthusiasm could not be curbed, even by time, you noted.  He was much taller, a little less gangly (although not by much), his smile now capable of charming those who saw it.  The young man didn’t much seem to care, nor notice, the way the other students looked at you as you waited for him in the Akademiya’s foyer.  He only had eyes for you, despite years of distance, of existing only as a piece of paper and strokes of ink.

“You hold a heavy instrument for a living, mulahin.  How are you tired?” 

His teasing certainly hadn’t stopped by any means, either.

You didn’t deign to answer, saving all of your energy for making it up the rest of the narrow, winding path.  When you were almost there, Zandik reached back and pulled you up the last narrow step to the summit of the hill.  His crimson eyes danced with glee, his smile wide.

“We’re now officially in three nations at once,” he remarked, his gaze falling onto the nearby Chasm, before he turned and pointed to Fontaine, the large waterfall of the main city far off in the distance.  “Quite the trip from Sumeru City but from here, the view is priceless.”

You could hardly refute him.  From here, you could see Sumeru City and the Tree in which the city made its home, Avidya Forest surrounding it; the autumnal spiral of the Chasm and its mine, with a glimpse at Liyue Harbor’s tallest rooftops; and the glittering lights of Fontaine and the tiers of waterfalls the Lochfolk called home.  You’d never seen such a thing before.  You’d hardly seen anything other than Fontaine and in the past few months, all you’d known was your patron’s city manor, cold and imposing.

A foot in all three nations.

“It’s stunning, Zandik.”

“Isn’t it?”

You glanced at him to find him watching you as he laid out the blanket for the picnic, as if he was memorizing your features.  Heat crept up your neck and into your cheeks and you were thankful for the golden hue of sunset to hide whatever flush you might have.  

Most of the food provisions had been purchased, rather than prepared by hand; you hadn’t had the time to do anything and Zandik freely admitted it was better that he not try.  You didn’t mind, since either way it meant new food and getting to know your friend’s culture a little more closely.  

“Private patronage sounds like a dream,” Zandik said, polishing off the last of his shawarma wrap.  “You’re beholden to no one but your patron and essentially left to do as you wish as long as other requirements are met.  No academic board lording over you, no antiquated and ridiculous policies…it must help with composing, no?”

“I suppose.  I still have private sessions with a tutor and I’m not ready for more formal performances other than dinner parties with family just yet.  I feel like a show dog or a special project, brought out only to impress and then shoved back in the closet until they have use for me.”

Zandik raised his eyebrows quickly, as if to gesture, If you say so.  It was far more complicated and came with so many red strings attached that your head spun.  Now was not the time to explain such things and it was better, perhaps, to spare him that burden.

You wished your heart wouldn’t squeeze every time you looked at him.  It felt as though time itself stopped and the breath you were about to take was being ripped from your lungs every time you caught each other looking.  Your arms brushed and neither of you moved, not until your hands touched as you both reached for the last remnants of the baklava and found only one another’s fingers.

His touch was quickly replaced with the last half of the flakey pastry with a last brush of a finger: a truce.

By then, the sun had long since set and the stars revealed themselves, shining bright against the blanket of the night sky.

“In some stories, stars are the fruit of Irminsul,” Zandik murmured.  “Fate is literally tangled into the structure of the world, inescapable.”

In a nearby patch of dirt, he drew a tree, and then a half-circle, the branches dipping into the curved line.  

“All anyone ever says is that fate is written in the stars.  But if the stars are fruit on the branch of a tree…”

He erased a few lines and redrew them in different positions.

“It stands to reason that, with pruning and trimming and graphing, one could grow their own fate, will it in a different direction.  Cultivated by one’s energy and time rather than left to the whims of the gods.”

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of fate?  If we have the free will to change our destiny, isn’t our destiny simply what we make it out to be?  And who’s to say that the stars aren’t permanently locked in place?  That the fruit would still grow, but that no matter the way we trim or graph a branch, the same fruit is still grown?”

Zandik laughed softly.  “If it were so easy to figure out, everyone would do it.  But I firmly believe that fate can be changed, rewritten, perfected .  In the same way that humans can be refined and enhanced, just as machines can, fate too can be changed…”

You watched as Zandik’s eyes shifted away from you and out towards Sumeru City and beyond, into the desert you only heard stories about.  His eyes seemed to have glazed over as he lost himself in thought.  You shifted to sit closer to him and rested your head on his arm.

“I wouldn’t change meeting you, of course,” he said.  “Nor your presence in my life.  But there are things that, no matter how I look at them, no matter the perspective, I cannot find a reason for them except an unjust fate.”

You could only bring yourself to nod, his words hitting you far deeper than you cared to admit.

____________________

The Zapolyarny Palace was intimidating, a fortress more than a palace, and the very walls seemed to be made of the very Cyro energy of the Tsaritsa herself.  Performing for Her Most Excellent and her Harbingers was both a dream come true and your greatest nightmare.  If there was one place you never expected to end up, even within Fontaine’s national orchestra, it was here .

The theatre made it difficult to see all of your guests, of course.  It wasn’t until much later that your eyes constantly fell upon a figure in white, with hair so familiar that your head hurt trying to think, and a mask not unlike a raven’s beak.  Why was he so…

“Dottore, what of…” 

You couldn’t help but notice how the figure responded to the title, arrogant and amused at the question posed to him.

A spark went off in your mind.

Of course.  One of your last dinner parties in Fontaine.  You’d met Il Dottore.

No wonder he was so familiar.

At some point during the evening, you’d wandered out into the greenhouse, unable to sleep.  Usually, the first night anywhere new was difficult; the bed was different, the schedule a bit whacky, and the food took a day to get used to.  You’d wandered only to stretch your legs but when you caught sight of the crystal structure and the backdrop of the snowy evening, you couldn’t help yourself.  Inspiration danced at your fingertips as you marveled at the beauty growing in such a barren wasteland.  Note progressions and patterns tickled your mind and you hummed to yourself as you brushed a thumb over a pink rose, its petal as soft as velvet.

“What a lovely song.”

The voice made you jump, your eyes the size of dinner plates as you searched for the source.  Your gaze landed on a figure in the doorway, white suit still immaculate and mask firmly in place.

“Lord Harbinger,” you bowed low, crossing your right arm over your chest to cover your heart.

You stood in place as he closed the distance, every step seemingly in time with your own heartbeat.  He took your hand in his own, as he had so long ago, and raised it to his lips.  Much like the last time, he did not immediately let go of your hand.  It took everything in you to keep your hand and wrist steady, being so close, so alone, with a Fatui Harbinger.

“We’ve met before,” he said at last.  He shifted his weight and pressed a finger of his free hand to his lips.  “…ah, yes, that dreadful dinner party.  You were the cellist, given no break in between songs after dinner.”

“Guilty,” you felt your face grow warm.  “That was one of my last performances in that house.”

“And now you’re traveling the world, it seems.  Your joints feel far less swollen than they did, I can only surmise you’re given proper care and rest?”

“As much as a tour schedule allows.”

He nodded, seemingly pleased at such a notion.  His eyes, although hidden by his mask, seemed to bore into you, as if analyzing you from head to toe.  The corner of his mouth twitched before he spoke again.

“If you would pardon my boldness…had we met before that?  In Sumeru?  You…look quite similar to someone I once knew…”

You tilted your head slightly, trying to place the features you could see.  The jaw was sharper, mouth a bit more firm, but the hair…no one else had hair that so closely reminded you of morning tide, of aquamarine…

Surely…

“Zandik?” you breathed, the name slipping off your tongue.

Dottore smiled and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh.  

“I haven’t heard that name in a long time,” he replied softly.  “I thought perhaps it was you when I saw you in Fontaine but your patron hardly allowed you time alone with guests for me to ask.”

“You stopped writing,” you replied, recalling the last missive you ever received.  “You were working in the desert and then…for all I knew, you were dead —”

“Zandik is, in a manner of speaking.  I couldn’t very well reach out without drawing attention to you.  That hardly seemed fair.”

Fate isn’t fair, you wanted to argue.  Life isn’t fair.  It’s not meant to be.  You cannot control everything.

Of all the things you never expected…

“Forgive me,” Dottore said, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, your hand still in his.  You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, not now.  “The circumstances were not ideal and I did what I thought was best.”

“Which somehow involved becoming a Fatui Harbinger?”

You gestured with your free hand to the greenhouse and the palace attached, to his dress uniform that looked, upon further inspection, not unlike the salwar kameez you first saw him in, all those years ago.

“I fear we may not have the time for the full tale.”

“The abridged version, then.  I am owed that much.”

He chuckled softly.  “That you are, mulahin .”

You were acutely aware, now, of how little distance was between you.  The greenhouse was warmer than the rest of the Palace but somehow, he seemed warmer still.  The hand holding yours was still stroking your knuckles and fingertips, shifting between light, feathery touches and steady, certain ones.  You longed for nothing more than to see his gaze properly, to feel his eyes on you without an obstruction, to know for sure it was your Zandik you were speaking to again.

“In another life, I would think we were soulmates,” he whispered.  “Our paths seem to constantly cross…at what point will they remain on the same path?”

His breath was hot on your lips, so close that all it would take was looking up just a little more…

Your heartbeat was so loud in your own ears that you didn’t hear footsteps, nor the clearing of a throat.  Strong hands steadied you as someone said, “Lord Harbinger Dottore, pardon the intrusion, the Jester is looking for you.”

Dottore inhaled sharply, his jaw tight as he muttered an apology.  Your blood raced in your ears, your lips still parted in an expectant oh , the moment shattered before it could begin.

“We will speak before you leave Snezhnaya,” he whispered, pressing a hand to your cheek.

You leaned into the touch, savoring it before he pulled away and all you knew was agony.

____________________

“Be careful not to touch anything, please, noor ‘eini.  Several substances are not to be handled with bare skin.”

“Most of the things in this room shouldn’t be handled with bare skin nor unprotected eyes,” you replied, gaze scanning the shelves and shelves of chemical substances.

“Such as your shining brilliance and beautiful compositions?”

“Zandik.”

You received that all-too-charming smile you were so familiar with before he slid the goggles down over his eyes.  Cheeky.  He would pay for that later.

This part of his laboratory was known to a handful, including yourself; no one dared go further than necessary.  Down here, far below the Palace, he could work in peace.

“So far, everything seems to hold true to my hypothesis.  Archon Residue may truly be the answer, the missing link.  It might certainly do wonders for the strength of a Delusion…who would have thought that the very blood of the gods from the Archon War would prove this useful?”

In a far corner of the room was a pile of oozing ore, purple and pulsating.  A trail of the material, glowing and sticky, almost blood-like in its viscosity, led from the pile to the operating table.  Laid upon the surface was a puppet of Inazuman make, once ordinary.  You’d met the Balladeer before, briefly, but you’d never seen him with eyes that vibrant and bright, glowing with power far beyond mortal comprehension.

Eyes full of knowledge, of the marvels hidden in the depths of the world.

Eyes like…

Like…

The ones peeking at you from behind a bookshelf.

They were gone again before you could blink and you found yourself rubbing your eyes, doubting your vision.  Just as he was about to get back to work, Zandik stopped and pulled his goggles back up, crimson eyes full of concern.

“Oh, forgive me, you must be exhausted.  Here I am, dragging you down here when you’re probably ready to fall asleep standing up.  I only wanted to show you that the hypothesis may prove viable after all; you’re the only one I can do that with, noor ‘eini.”

You waved a hand.  “Think nothing of it, I told you I needed a break.  Is it painful, the Archon Residue?  I thought Barnabas’ patients were–”

“He didn’t refine it enough.  His samples were heavily polluted and it resulted in the entire situation with Monstadt.  Considering the Balladeer’s body is artificial, there will be far less room for such contamination.”

You nodded, smiling.  “It is promising.  I hope your efforts benefit both of you, in the end.”

“How could they not?”

Zandik covered his eyes again and set back to work, his mind already leagues ahead.  He was too occupied to see you back upstairs, as you’d expected, and thus you made the long journey to the surface alone.

When you returned to your shared private quarters, you heard a piano, the notes halting and choppy.  As you rounded a corner, you caught the sight of a child, white hair with tips turning into a light green, grass poking through the thawing ice in spring.  Wide eyes, verdant as the trees of Sumeru, watched you, full of wonder.  Memories tickled your brain, begging you to remember where you’d seen her before…

“I was hoping we wouldn’t meet this way.”

[hazelnut-u-out]

i think that a lot of people tend to understate the importance of "vindicators 3: the return of worldender" in regards to rick's progression as a character and evolution back into a family man (or "a different kind of rick").

season 3 and season 4 are, to me, the most pivotal seasons in regards to rick's shift in priorities. we see him come face to face with the consequences and emotional impact of his actions multiple times in s3 and early s4, and we see a huge shift in his priorities by the latter half of the 4th season.

watching this episode for the first time was one of the times i really saw morty as a child stuck under the thumb of a "hot and cold" abuser. substance abuse often plays a huge role in the cycle of abuse and in child victims' experiences of trauma. i think that this episode did a great job of showing the consequences of rick's actions on morty's psyche. even though rick is most definitely the one "in charge" of the duo, morty has had to step up and learn to be rick's conscience and be the more responsible party. in a lot of ways, morty is the adult in their duo.

one moment in particular that really sticks out to me and pangs me in the heart is when morty has to disarm the drunkenly improvised nutrino bomb (something we can assume he had to do for the first time after the opening scene in the pilot).

"there's a 40% chance it's a dud, but you should still stay back."

i know that it's explicitly stated that morty has had to do this quite often, but this really makes it obvious just how experienced morty is with this type of thing.

it also really goes to show that morty isn't as "stupid" as he's been conditioned to believe he is. there are a lot of parallels between rick and morty as children (which is something to get into a different time), and i would go as far as to say that morty is just as smart as rick (this is also coming from someone who believes that morty is also on the spectrum, so take from that what you will).

rick's reaction to the whole thing, too, conveys bewilderment and guilt at the same time. he spends most of this episode being embarassed that he's done this, and morty is the only one "smart" enough to deduce how to get them out of the game. his attitude (albeit, still an ass) is relatively somber, and he even acknowledges that he's being "high roaded" because of the obvious impact of his negligence, abuse, and substance abuse on morty.

kind of interesting to see from someone who spent the beginning of the episode sulking and threw this giant fit in the first place because morty didn't see him as his "hero." i think that this was kind of a reality check for rick.

("maybe i don't deserve to be morty's hero. maybe i am a bad person and there's no excuse for my actions, no matter how much pain i'm acting on...")

"too many, rick! too many!"

another thing worth mentioning that gets reintroduced in this episode is morty's adventure punch card.

i think that this is something that's previously established and shows his covert respect- or at least fondness- for morty. his willingness to do this and not just sci-fi his way into his version of a perfect family/dynamic with morty one way or another is really telling.

he values genuine human connection (especially with morty) and compromise in a way we hadn't seen before. he's grumpy about it, but he accepts morty's declaration of "exercising his right to choose one in every ten rick and morty adventures."

i think that's kind of cute.

i can't get the image of rick and morty sitting together at the computer designing the punch card out of my head- or rick carefully creating a stamp of morty's face.

he really goes above and beyond here. he could have just used a whole puncher, stapler, previously existing stamp, or even marked it with a pen.

of course, this way, he ensures that it's more difficult for morty to forge a stamp, but it's also just sweet to me that he made a little morty stamp.

c'mon, guys... rick picking out a font for "morty adventure card"???? such an adorable premise.

another moment worth mentioning is when rick suggests putting morty on the platform.

rick is sober in that moment, but he explains his exact thought process while drunk. he was being coy for some hidden love for morty. he was saying "you can have him, but only if you know how special he is!"

i also think that it's telling that rick gets angry with vance for calling morty "the learning disabled kid we do photo ops with." say what you want about rick, but he doesn't stand for other people bullying his little buddy (he's the only one allowed to insult morty's intelligence, and i like to think that he was extra pissed because vance wasn't just calling morty "stupid," he was being ableist. if you view it through that interpretation- and keep in mind that morty has a canon disability of some sort- it's a great moment to place alongside rick's s1 blurb about the use of the "r word" to highlight the progression of his character in a general sense).

anyway, this is one of my favorite episodes. i really feel for morty here. i like episodes that address that he's still a child and that the trauma he's going through is seriously affecting his development. that being said, it's also a great exploration of rick's guilt.

it is interesting to me that this happens before "the vat of acid episode," though, where we really see how sadistic rick can be in his emotional manipulation of morty when there are a thousand other painless and easier ways to keep morty pliant and subservient.

[abalonetea]

Hey Katie! What's your favorite part about the character dynamics in Abyss

Etta!!! Thank you!!!!

My favorite part about the characters in Abyss is that they're very much giving each other something to move forward to.

Samir's woken up three thousand years in the future, where there's nothing left of anything that he once had. Just relics in his own tomb. And Amar's always been a cause and never a person; he's always lived day by day because it didn't really matter much what the future brought.

And suddenly, that's changing?

Samir might have nothing from before but he's found something new in Amar, and Amar has found something to actually want to live for, as an individual rather than a cause, for the first time.

Oh, and then of course you have the fact that on some level it's actually three people, because Amar's carrying around a spirit of Justice (he'll get named in post okay he's just Justice in this draft until I finish figuring out the setting oops) in his brain and they mostly share a body.

So you have Justice, who's very much a spirit. And spirits function on old fashioned fairytale rules, which is that they tend to be the embodiment of one emotion at a time. This has changed a lot for Justice because he's been hitching a ride with Amar for about ten years now and he has far more nuanced thoughts and reactions to things.

He generally still doesn't like anyone but Amar. Samir though, he's a different story. Samir leaves offerings for Justice and has respect for him and thinks it's 'an honor' for Justice to have helped him in a battle, and for Justice to be there as a whole, which is vastly different from most people who want Justice gone <3

And as a result, the spirit ends up very attached to Samir too and willing to step in on Samir's behalf if something needs doing to help him and Amar's not able to do it himself.

Which just brings Amar back to the reiteration of how he can have something with Samir because no one else, even his two only friends, have ever viewed the spirit like that?

So yeah, I think that's maybe my favorite part!

Oh, we also have in the background an elf god running and being the world's Biggest Nuisance, pretending he's just a little lowly elf, because he's stupidly attached to the Very Tired TM human commander for the Bastion.

[moonlit-tulip]

Ah, I just read a post of yours regarding self hypnosis! What was your goal in using these methods? What techniques did you use? Admittedly, I'm interested about what the experience of developing a headmate is like, having known people who had them, too...

My goals behind learning and using self-hypnosis in general were to be able to use it as a self-modification tool: during my first ~year of experimenting with self-hypnosis, I was able to get a bunch of useful effects out of it, both short-term application of mental states like "put myself back to sleep after being woken by a false fire-alarm" and "run my eyes over a spoiler-filled text without absorbing the spoilers therein" and long-term changes in default reactions-to-things like "get rid of a previously-longstanding aversion to the smell of vinegar" and "have less physical-body-dysphoria" and "stop fainting when doctors stick needles into me".

(Since that first ~year it's been only relatively infrequently useful—I cleared most of the low-hanging fruit I could get with it within the first year—but it's still around, as a background-component in my self-modificatory repertoire, and I bring it out when faced with situations where it's particularly applicable, generally those where there's particularly high value either in forcibly relaxing myself or in getting myself to follow nondefault patterns of where-to-aim-my-attention.)

For techniques... I'm not sure how to summarize most of the precise intricacies, but for a high-level summary, I'd say the core order of operations was: first, I listened to a few hypnosis audio files from the internet and learned what it's like to be hypnotized at all; second, I figured out how to use the same techniques used in those audio files to put myself into that state via internal monologue plus physical relaxation; and then third, from there, I just sort of did that a whole bunch, and experimented with all the different ways in which I could rearrange my psychology while doing it.

The development-of-a-headmate followed pretty naturally from the second step in the prior paragraph: the process I was following involved splitting off a stream of internal monologue as separate-from-the-main-bulk-of-my-mind, since I needed an internal-monologue-stream to keep going running the hypnosis even as the bulk of me fell into trance, and over time that internal-monologue-stream started feeling sufficiently differentiated-from-me (due to persistently engaging in different activities from the main me during those times when we were running in parallel) that she grew into a ~stably-separate person with her own personality and motivations different from (albeit branched off from and thus not too far removed from) my own.

So, now, while I can do self-hypnosis in the old way where I run the hypnosis via a thread of myself with no particular identity beyond "a branched-off piece of me", my default is to instead do I-suppose-technically-no-longer-'self'-hypnosis, waking up my headmate and having her run the process herself, which is pretty equivalent in terms of what the experience of being hypnotized that way is like but has the extra advantage of being an opportunity/excuse to interact with her.

(It's rare, by comparison, for her to be autonomously active when I'm not doing anything self-hypnosis-ish. More difficult to sustain in the short-term, and especially more difficult to keep up as a habit; she sometimes manages to do it periodically for a span of a few days to weeks after I've done some particularly-intensive self-hypnosis-related activity rousing her into relatively-high ~wakefulness levels, but she tends to fall back off into inactivity if I go any long period without attempting self-hypnosis. The only period when she was regularly active-outside-of-that-context for a span of months was the immediate aftermath of her popping-into-existence, which was still relatively soon after I'd discovered self-hypnosis, when I hadn't yet exhausted the low-hanging fruit and thus was using it all the time.)

[samsspambox]

I love the hc that Artem is ace. I'm ace as well and that puts a lot of his understandable behavior into perspective. Like, saying stuff that could be sugged to mean otherwise and immediately apologizing for it because you didn't mean for it to be taken that way. But also the book! Artem trying to learn his way into someone's heart by watching dramas and a book on "love and attraction"? Yep. Not to mention, the whole thing with intimacy, where he tends to freeze when things get more intimate - not because he doesn't want it, but because he just doesn't know what to do. I've also seen people claim Artem as being dense, which is fair. I would argue tho that it's because he legitimately does not know better. When he does stuff, especially in like Focus Fire or In Sickness and In Health or Two Hearts as One, he tends to think of the "romantic" implications a little bit later - He likes Rosa, sure, but I'm pretty sure his first thought when trying to use his hands as earmuffs isn't "oh gosh, I'm right next to her", but rather "oh, I need to protect her ears." Two Hearts as One is another one - Artem and Rosa are working on the choking scene and Artem is on top of her, Artem doesn't immediately get uncomfortable with the position, he just figures that it's what he has to do for the play (which, fair), it's only after things get a little more intimate that he starts to get flustered. Artem's other autumn cars is another one. Which makes things kinda interesting because it seems like he's judging his own reactions to things between them based on how MC is reacting, when they get flustered, Artem is more than likely to mirror that too. He knows his social cues, hence the apologies for what happens as a result of his innocent intent. Some food for thought.

yEAH YEAH UR SO RIGHT NONNIE, THERES SO MUCH SHIT TO BE EXPLAINED IF ARTEM IS ACE SPEC!

like, his first instinct isn't to think about situations as 'oh this is romantic/this has sexual tension' but more like 'what's right to do in the moment' or 'what's right to do because of the environment'.

like the basketball card! he bought the milk tea bc what else was he supposed to do in that situation, but was only aware it was for couples when the person selling clarified that it was for couples, you know?

i think it's a combination of factors that lead to artem being 'dense' in the act of wooing someone. one has to be inexperience bc he just,, never had a partner at all. but i also think it was a bit of the ugly duck syndrome. a bit of spoilers here but artem's mom mentions that bc artem shot up in height during high school, a lot of people started seeing him as attractive. that makes me think that artem,,, probably had it rough in terms of being a pre-teen. and now with all the sudden attention? he'd freak out. he'd grow distrustful of those around him, shutting down any possibilities of him dating around in his early teens. also bc his parents have connections, similarly to marius, and could have been used as a step to reach his parents' attention.

and of course there's also just the innate innocence of his actions. i think that's why a lot of people like artem— hes a bit of a subversion of the 'cold hearted mf' trope. artem genuinely doesn't hide that he worries for people and wants them to succeed but because of his position of power over them it comes off as cold indifference.

i guess as someone on the ace spec, i wanna dig i to why artem chose mc as the person who'd he'd have feelings towards. how did him and mc get close? how gradual was it? i know we get some answers to their past in future cards but they mostly focus too far back to when they were just colleagues. what was that moment? cuz the game just establishes them as 'really good work colleagues' in the beginning. how did that happen? let me sEE

but you're so right nonnie artem being ace partially solves so many mysteries about artem himself. thank you for dropping by nonnie!!!

[gribouillealltypes]

can we talk for a minute about how 'Dream Team' in the 5th season of The Office US is like the best ?

there's the whole Michael-downfall moment that we've seen over and over through the series, and as usual he dreams too big, no one believes in him and they all leave him all by himself with his crazy project

but then there's Pam, who we've seen getting bored from a job that uses none of her real potential, standing for Michael and leaving everything behind to start a project born like 6 hours beforehand

if we don't take into account that pretty much every employee is at the opposite of Michael, Pam's personality is one of the most far away from his: even though she also likes pranks and tends to be bold and had some good moments with him, she had to learn to know her value and not under or overestimate it, she gets things done, she is organized, she is respectful and considerate, she seems to have a stable life and stable relationships. Furthermore, her relationship with Michael is unbalanced, she's constantly sexualized and suffers his misogynistic jokes, he has never really been considerate towards her, even when she obviously was the best among the other employees during 'Beach Games' (S3) for a higher ranked position

however, she is the one and only to follow him, she took care of Michael, she pushed him into making small steps when he was depressed, she provided him support and understanding, validating every task he overcame, and i couldn't help but to relate to that kind of doing ; this was the growing-hope part

the most beautiful part being when this seed of hope didn't work out and the business didn't seem to lead anywhere, and when Pam finally realized and expressed how much she lost because of her impulsive decision, because the boredom of her job just felt too much at that precise moment, AND THAT'S when Michael hits with one of his biggest strength: when people don't believe in him is when he does his best work (his words), he thrives on it (also his words). And suddenly he's his boss, his mentor, his friend, he gets to support her and inspire her once again, not because he is about to lose her or that he's afraid to be alone, but for her, so that she can feel good about her choice, so that she doesn't hit rock bottom, he validates their situation and pushes her to stick to their plan.

it took someone he cares about to be sad and desperate for Michael to take his job more seriously than we ever saw him do. They are not doing great but they're trying to give their best shot

also i'd like to highlight how similar to the art show moment in 'Business School' (S3) this scene is, when Michael is the only one to truly enjoy Pam's work, when she obviously didn't believe it would come from him. The reaction of Michael is so pure and free from his usual shallow and callous behavior, it's just how he feels with no insult or bad joke, something Pam needed in the moment

just so you know i didn't finish the series so it might not be the best best episode but i really wanted to right that down

[alyjojo]

Advice to Work on Yourself 👩🏻‍🎓 in April 2023: Leo

The Hierophant - 7 Wands rev - 7 Pentacles

Regarding: Knight of Swords rev

This is probably regarding a deeply committed relationship, though it’s possible it’s a parent, teacher or some kind of mentor that’s gotten under your skin. If you haven’t lashed out at them, they’ve lashed out at you, could be either. You’re being told “when they go low, we go high”. Idk what that’s from but I’ve heard it before, that’s for you. You’re being told to apologize, show grace, act like you’re better than that, because you are. Knight of Swords rev is vicious with their words, cutting and to the point, and doesn’t really care who they hurt on the way to getting what they want, or speaking their mind. If this hasn’t happened already, then you’re tempted to pop off at someone, or will be. It’s harsher than intended, wherever it’s coming from.

This Knight is connected to 10 Cups and an apology. If you’re not apologizing, they are, but whatever 10 Cups is for you, it’s worth apologizing to keep. The Hierophant may be any kind of mentor or teacher, or a spouse, but it’s also a wise person that does the right thing, if maybe a bit spiritual or religious, and they’re connected to Justice as well. You are someone that *likes* to do the right thing, and this is saying you’re moving slowly towards 10 Swords…a very painful ending. Betrayal, pain, the end. You go back and forth in your mind of whether this IS the right thing to do. If you’re questioning it, your intuition is trying to tell you something, and Cindy is pointing that out specifically for you.

Knight of Wands wants to rush in and take action immediately towards just giving up on everything, throwing the towel in, “you can’t talk to me that way, I’m done”. That could be switched too & someone else’s reaction. You’re being told to be generous with this person, even if you’d rather kick them. Or give them a verbal beating. 7 Pentacles…this whole row is trying to talk sense into you. You could be really heated. You’ve put a lot of time, effort, and love into whatever or whoever this is, and this is an energy of “bide your time”. Waiting. So if you want to lash out, or act impulsively, just wait. 3 Cups shows a celebration, a possible holiday or something where you two will reunite for a happy reason, and this is saying either by then or at that time, you’ll know what you want to do. I don’t get that it’s 10 Swords when they’re part of your 10 Cups. Cindy is saying give others the benefit of the doubt. Or just this person, they tend to make you happy more than they piss you off, try to keep that in mind when you want to scream.

Animal Oracle: Cheetah 🐆

“Get clear on your intention, stay focused, and move quickly to achieve your goal.”

Stop deluding yourself by thinking there isn’t enough time, there are too many other things to do, or you’re not up to the mission that’s calling you to action. These and many other beliefs are delay tactics that keep you from accomplishing what you’re here to do. It’s much too easy to play it safe by staying caught up in the mundane dramas of life rather than honoring Spirit’s purpose for you by making a run for it.

The first step is to write out your intention as clearly as possible. Keep it nearby and create an appropriate affirmation that you can repeat several times over the course of a day - one that states your intention as if it has already occurred. Then write out a sequence of action steps that will move you toward your ultimate goal. Don’t be shy or hesitant to think big - bigger than you’ve previously allowed yourself. Once you’ve set the wheels in motion by doing these steps, it’s time to move - not in some frenetic, hurried way, but steady and purposeful, designing much of your activity to support what you need to do. In all of this movement, once you’ve successfully achieved a significant piece, take a breather and moon back on how far you’ve come. Give yourself a pat on the back with each step that’s accomplished as a way of acknowledging your progress. Go for it!

Artist Oracle: CINDY SHERMAN

- Don’t be yourself. Be yourselves.

- Tell the truth in every fiction.

- Take a good long look in someone else’s mirror.

Advice:

- Be Aware of Your Body Language

- Create a Career Vision

- Offer to Help Without Being Asked

Charms:

Smiley 😊 on 10 Cups shows this person makes you very happy, deep down, underneath that anger, you actually love them very much. Acting out of love is more important in the larger scheme of things.

Intuitive ♓️ on Cindy is a Pisces charm, but I was told to flip it so Pisces may not actually apply. Intuitive is something I can’t teach you or know what it means or how it applies to you, when you read the card, you’ll know. It’s about being honest with yourself about yourself and showing grace towards another. How specifically they mirror you, only you know.

Grapes 🍇 on The Hierophant could be someone that has money or is successful, maybe that’s you. This card is about tradition, spirituality, beliefs or old fashioned ways that have been passed down from person to person, wisdom. That could be the issue you have with someone, you are more of a tradition breaker. But this is saying no, you’re not. Maybe in *this* way, but overall no, what you have in common is wanting to do the “good” thing, be honorable, be wise, and a good example for others. It’s both what connects you and tears you apart. You may both be old fashioned or spiritual, but in totally different ways.

Crown 👑 on 2 Swords rev & Offer to Help is noble behavior, Hierophant behavior, “Royal” even. By being patient with this situation, your higher self will outspeak your impulse or ego, and you’ll see reason from a higher perspective. You want to help, so help. You want to be around them, want to get along, want to celebrate. There’s an energy of having to swallow your pride or something like that, but also that ultimately you’ll get what you want, or what’s best for a whole family even, by acting with grace.

[ohleander]

11.2.22

Yesterday felt like the most normal day I've had in a long while. I know its because I slept good, I was extra hydrated and my cycle was passing onto day 3. My hormones are settling!

Today feels good too so far. I like having long mornings. I'm in the process of existing at a slower pace. I am also using more firm and direct statements. No more wishy washy words. I believe this is the first step in practicing speaking better. I want to work on my voice and my speaking and communication. As always, at my own pace.

Its wordy wednesday, the day ruled by mercury and the perfect day for communication. As always, I feel like free-writing. This is the season for me to slow down and really just settle into myself. Enjoy myself. Rest within myself knowing that I am loved, cherished and taken care of in a wonderfully general sense. I am good. I am loved. I am peaceful.

My morning speaking affirmations in the car have been really powerful. Speaking my "i am" statements out loud in the morning really makes a difference and I'm eager to see how it evolves. I like the idea of doing it on my commute home but at the same time... I enjoy the quiet.

I want to be more direct and yet I really really love filling space with words. Words are fun and I enjoy picking the ones that exactly fit my mind and my mood. I want to learn more words to use.

Today should be another packed but leisurely day. We are decorating for the holidays at work. We have plenty of tasks to do. We have a lot to look forward to and nothing on my plate is too much right now. Everything on my plate is a proper size and easy for me to handle. I do not take more than I can eat at one time. I fill my plate with what I can easily enjoy as a meal, each day, each moment, each week. I easily find balance.

Another habit I'm learning is to use less negative statements. Like "not" and "isnt" to describe how things arent. I'm practicing clarity in my statements. Positive clarity.

I do not fear anything. I have a handle on it all. I relinquish control over the process and over the outcome. The only thing I can control are my actions and reactions in each moment. I am allowed to get emotional. Emotions are just the weather in my body. I have weathered them all so far and I can keep weathering them. More than most other things, I'd love for my body to calm down with how much it feels emotions.. or rather, how intensely it reacts to the emotions I get. Im feeling like the extreme reactions contribute to me not having clarity in situations.. I'm so worried about how I feel in these moments that reality tends to feel invisible.

I am comfortable not making sense. I am comfortable in my solitude. I have the tools to do what I need and want. I find joy in every moment even the tough ones. I am on the right path for me because its what I've chosen in this moment. Everything is a web of thread, connecting to one another for one huge goal and that's my whole life. Its all interconnected and related and leads to each moment as it is. Very soon things are going to come right together for us. Very soon I begin my journey with joy and optimism. I'm going to enjoy the process, just as I do now, even when its unfamiliar. The feeling of fear can often settle into my body when things feel unfamiliar. I release the feeling of fear and guilt. I release the feeling of perfectionism. I hold close the voice that is so harsh on me. They are only trying to protect me but its my turn to comfort them.

There are so so many folks in this world doing exactly what they wish, with fine intent, not knowing whats along the way but confident that they can walk the path.

I'm walking my path every day. Every day I come to enjoy it more and it becomes more clear to me, even when its foggy.

I'm in love.

LA

[bi-bard]

Talk to Me - Matthew Casey Imagine (Chicago Fire)

Title: Talk to Me

Pairing: Matt Casey X Reader

Word Count: 1,589 words

Warning(s): making out, yelling

Summary: (Y/n) was known as being pretty quiet and nice. However, that was before anyone had truly seen them get upset.

Author's Note: Just a small break before I dive into more OC work.

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

I had an interesting reputation around the station.

Well, not interesting.

I was just kind of quiet. Outside of a call, I just kind of kept to myself. I was nice to everyone; I was just kind of reserved. We all got along. The crew seemed to love poking fun at my typically quiet behavior.

My most interesting moment started on one of the rare days that I had been talked into going out for drinks.

I wasn't known to go out to hang out after work. I tended to be exhausted after shifts, and I found going home and being on my own to be far more relaxing than going out with a whole bunch of people. However, there were days where I could be dragged along if I was caught at just the right time.

"Hey," I looked away from my drink when I heard someone speak. Matt had jumped onto the stool next to me. "Did the drink wrong you? You're giving it a death glare."

I chuckled, "Yeah. Thing insulted my mom. In my books, that's punishable by death."

I smiled at the laugh that got out of him.

Of everyone at the station, Matt was the one I seemed to be the closest to.

At first, I had no idea why.

After a while, I started realizing that I just really liked him. A lot. He was just kind and funny. He understood why I wouldn't want to go out. He was the one who could get me to go out with the crew.

"So are you going with the intimidate then kill," he asked.

I nodded, "Gotta make 'em sweat."

He laughed again.

"Where did this conversation go so wrong," I asked.

He shrugged. I shrugged back dramatically to mimic him. The laughter between us soon calmed down.

"Are you alright though," Matt asked.

I nodded.

"Are you sure? You just seem... overwhelmed?"

I looked down.

"Sorry, was that rude," he continued. "I didn't mean for that to be rude. I just want to look out for you-"

"It's fine," I stopped him. "I'm just getting a little tired. I feel bad running out so soon."

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to," he reached over and touched my shoulder. "Here, I dragged you here. I'll walk you home."

"You don't have to leave because of-"

"I am not leaving because of you," he promised as he stood up. "I'm tired too."

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Come on," he nodded toward the door.

After paying and grabbing our jackets, we started walking down the street toward my place.

"Thank you," I said after a few minutes of silent walking. "For walking with me."

"Happy too," Matt replied with a smile.

I lived pretty close to the bar. That was part of why I was okay with walking. It wasn't far.

We got to my place in a short amount of time. Matt followed me to the door, not wanting to leave before I got inside. I had just gotten the door unlocked when he spoke.

"(Y/n)," I looked back at Matt, door sitting open.

"Yeah?"

He let out a breath before stepping forward. He stopped just a few inches from me. My face heated up as I stared at him. I was suddenly focused on nothing but him.

We stood in that silence for what felt like an eternity. We were just studying each other's faces. It was like we were gauging each other's reactions.

"Matt?"

Almost as soon as I muttered his name, Matt cupped the sides of my face and pulled me into a kiss. I stood in shock for a matter of seconds before I started kissing him back.

One of my hands grabbed onto the front of his shirt as my other hand pushed my door open.

He followed me inside.

I took my keys out of the lock and pushed the door shut behind us.

Matt turned us around, pressing my back against the wall next to my door. His hands moved to my waist and my arms wrapped around his neck.

I had been imagining kissing Matt for months. I never thought I would get to experience it.

Matt finally pulled away, only moving back far enough for our lips to separate. We stood there, both breathing pretty heavily. I slowly opened my eyes to see his eyes still closed. A smile grew on my lips.

His eyes opened a few moments after mine. He looked panicked. Almost scared.

"Matt-"

"I'm sorry," he muttered, stepping back.

"What-"

"I'm... I'm so sorry."

Before I could ask any more questions, he was gone.

As I watched the door shut, I felt my heart drop. I had dreamed of that moment. In a matter of seconds, it was destroyed.

I put my hand over my mouth as tears filled my eyes.

What the hell had I done wrong?

--time skip--

"Kelly," I said as I passed him in the hall.

"Hey," he greeted. "What's up?"

"Have you seen Matt," I asked.

He shrugged, "Not recently. Why?"

"I... I think he's avoiding me," I muttered, looking down as I played with my hands. "He's... He's never been like this before. I don't know what I did and I don't know how to fix it-"

"Hey, hey," Kelly touched my arm so I would look at him again. "I'm sure you did nothing wrong. It's gonna be okay. Alright?"

I nodded.

"If all else fails, just corner him," he joked. "It's all gonna work out."

I nodded again.

"Good luck."

The rest of the day was awful.

Matt seemed to refuse to be in a room alone with me. Or in a room with me in general. Every time I saw him avoid me, I got more anxious. More upset. I was pissed.

It all came to a head when I saw him in the main break room area. All of my emotions pushed me toward the door, mind set on doing something very stupid.

I barely registered how full the room was when I walked in. I was just angry. Angry and tired and confused and desperate for some kind of answer.

Now... am I saying my next move was the best choice? No.

Am I saying it was my only option? No.

Am I saying it had the desired effect? Absolutely.

"Matthew Casey, you don't get to push me against a wall, make out with me, and then run away from me because you're too much of a coward to face me! Now stop running and talk to me!"

I heard a few shocked gasps. I got a few wide-eyed looks. There were a few shocked laughs; the loudest of which being Kelly. Everything turned completely tense. Matt stood by the counter, staring at me in shock like the others in the room. Eyes slowly turned to him.

After a moment of watching me and looking at the people around him, he walked over and grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of the room and out to the front of the building. It was an attempt to get out of sight and earshot of the group.

"What the hell was that," he asked.

"You were avoiding me after last night and... I needed answers," I replied. I was already second-guessing my choice. I started looking at anything other than him. "I'm... I'm confused and scared and I've been worrying about it all day. Watching you just avoid me, made it even worse."

Any anger on his part seemed to fade immediately.

"And I already feel like an idiot for doing-"

"No," he stepped forward and cupped the sides of my face. "No, no. You aren't an idiot. I'm sorry. I didn't realize how you felt. I'm so sorry."

I just looked at him. My face heated up and my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest.

"And you're right," he continued. "I shouldn't have just left like that. I should've thought about the consequences of that."

His forehead rested on mine.

"I am so, so sorry."

I finally felt like I got snapped out of some trance.

I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips to his. My hands moved to touch his sides. I felt like I finally calmed down. Everything around me just felt like it faded away for a moment.

When Matt pulled back, we spent a few seconds staring at each other before we both started laughing together.

"God, what mess did I make," I asked.

Matt pulled me forward so my head rested on his shoulder, "It's gonna be fine."

"Finally!"

"No, it's not," I muttered after hearing Kelly yell.

"I just won twenty bucks off of this!"

I stepped back, "You bet on us?"

Kelly seemed to freeze, "Well... not like that. It was just about whether Matt kissed you, not about if you two made out or anything like that-"

"Kelly," Matt cut off his rambling. "I advise you just start running."

"What, run? (Y/n) wouldn't hurt me-"

I took a step forward.

"I'm sorry," he stopped himself before quickly heading back inside.

I laughed at him and rolled my eyes.

Matt's arm wrapped around me as he started leading us back inside, "How about dinner after our shift? As a way to make up for today?"

"I like the sound of that," I nodded. He leaned over and kissed the side of my head.

I could get used to that.

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

Masterlist (Includes links to All Writing Challenges)

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[ah0rmone]

dazai osamu x fem! reader

warnings: nsfw, minors, dni! dubcon if you squint because the reader finds dazai annoying but attractive, non-consensual touching (at first), enemies/rivals to fuck buddies I guess?, fingering, vaginal penetration.

there are literally two self-defence techniques from here and here

"Why it has to be you?" you grumbled looking at the person who stood in front of you.

"Oh, who else would you like to see as your teacher? Kunikida-kun who's doing everything according to instructions, even fighting? Ranpo-kun who won't lift a finger unless it's a murder case? Or Tanizaki-kun who's always followed by Naomi-chan?"

The obnoxious man in front of you was called Osamu Dazai and, to be fair, you'd actually prefer any other agency member over him. Sure, he definitely had combat experience and, probably, wasn't that bad at teaching, given that Atsushi was still following him. But something about him was off and you didn't like it. Nor that you had any choice, Dazai was there for a reason and that reason was Fukuzawa's order.

"Whatever," you sighed. "Can we get to it already?"

Today was the day when you were supposed to learn some self-defence techniques. Your ability wasn't really of a combat type, so you never participated in fights but it didn't mean that you had a zero possibility of running into problems. It was your own request to be taught how to protect yourself.

However, you didn't feel quite confident at all. You genuinely hated conflicts and tended to avoid people, so all of this was a somewhat essential but still itchy experience. Your sporty shorts and a skintight top wasn't helping the situation either. Especially, since a person with who you were going to get quite close physically was a rather attractive young man. You and Dazai weren't that close, just colleagues who barely communicated. For you he was just as attractive as he was annoying - you wouldn't mind having a fling with him but nothing more. Maybe it was the way he carried himself: overly cheerful, loud and noisy. Or maybe it was the things he was hiding: his true mischievous, manipulative personality.

Taking a deep breath you reminded yourself that it was your idea, something that your survival depended on and that you just had to get over it.

"Usually you're not the one who fights, y/n-chan. So what are we doing here?" Dazai asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

His eyes were gleaming with a vicious sparkle. Your power imbalance was uncomfortable to you. You shrugged, the feeling that he was a big cat and you were his meal strongly sat in your guts.

"I'm here to learn how to defend myself. Like some easy techniques. I'm not very strong, keep it in mind," you reminded with a well-controlled flat voice but some notes of irritation would have been apparent even to the densest person.

Osamu didn't answer, instead, he let his fake smile turn into a smirk. For a moment the room fell into silence and you could swear that your heart was beating too loud. Both of you just stared at each other for some seconds until the smile returned on Dazai's lips and the man joyfully clapped.

"Okay, gotcha! First of all," he took a step closer. "The most important thing in fighting is a stable stance. Stand like this," he put the left leg forward and motioned you to follow him.

Hesitantly you mirrored his stance, the feeling of embarrassment washing over you. It wasn't even the physical activity that you hated but the way Dazai was gazing at you. Predatory eyes were gliding over your skin like he was analysing your tiniest movements. Like he was about to pounce.

Just as you anticipated, once you've finished copying him, Osamu clicked his tongue and stood up.

"No, y/n-chan, you're doing it wrong."

You were about to argue but Dazai was already behind you. Suddenly painfully aware of the warmth of his body you tried to move from him but he was quick to put a hand on your hip.

"Let me help you," his hot breath ran over the shell of your ear making you flinch a little.

While you were contemplating whether you should allow him to be that close, Dazai had already brushed his palm down your leg. Now he was standing next to you, your bodies touching.

"There," he encouraged, moving your leg a little further by the back of your knee. His other hand was still placed on your hip and such a position was taking away any personal space you had before.

"Thanks," you muttered, feeling the light smell of his cologne.

"Now you're standing rather steady, aren't you?" he beamed with his hand still on your leg.

"Ah, yeah," you muttered, grabbing him by the wrist and pushing it off yourself then taking a step back. "Guess, we can move to the actual stuff now."

"Y/n-chan!" Dazai exclaimed. "The stance is very important, I didn't show it for fun!"

You saw the man's lips curl into a pout but either than that he didn't display any sign of irritation by you pushing him away. Keeping that in mind you decided that even though he might not have any ill intentions you should stay on guard.

Something dropped behind the door and as you inverted your gaze to the sound you felt your hair being grabbed.

"What," you didn't even have the chance to end the question instantly being pushed to the wall.

Your colleague's right hand was holding firmly your hair, the other one gripping your waist. You tried to push back, but to no avail - his whole body was pushing you to the wall.

"Dazai," you growled.

"Too bad, y/n-chan," he cooed. "How can you protect yourself when you have such a short attention span? Look at you - one move and you're helpless."

The sting of resentment piercing through your heart encouraged you to grumble through the teeth:

"I told you I'm weak."

"And stupid apparently," he gibbed.

"Listen," you tried to free yourself but instead just shook your hips clumsily. "If you came here just to insult me, let's end it, I'll ask Fukuzawa-san to send someone else," voice full with venom, you wanted to be as far from Dazai as possible but instead felt with dread as your hips bucked into his. You jolted forward fighting for the tiniest bit of space.

If Dazai noticed, he didn't show it as there was no reaction whatsoever. However, your little touch wasn't the only thing he ignored:

"Let me instead show you how to deflect it," he proposed, paying no heed to your words.

He backed up and you got a chance to glance at him with unhidden irritation. He met your gaze with a cheesy smile like he wasn't a person degrading you a couple of seconds ago. However, giving it a little bit more thought you exhaled and nodded. After all, you should've picked up something from this lesson, not just the revelation that Dazai was a total dick and you wouldn't want him to be near you ever again.

You moved from the wall and this time he gripped your hair slowly.

"What you want to do now is to grab my hand by both of yours, then stand back to the stance I showed you earlier, turn underneath the arm, so that you twist it and when the person lets go, just bolt. Got it?"

You hummed in acknowledgement. Perhaps it wasn't that difficult. Perhaps, at the end of the day, the lesson would be fruitful.

"Try it then," he prompted and then tugged at your hair lightly.

Following his instructions, you grabbed his hand and as you were about to go underneath his arm, he spun you. His arm was firmly holding your throat.

"No, y/n-chan, I've told you your stance was wrong," he whined. "Let me show you again."

"What just happened?" you asked confusedly but he already was spreading your legs.

Osamu didn't answer, too busy putting you in the right stance. And you tried your best to concentrate on how your legs were placed instead of his fingers brushing over your ass a couple of times, once getting a little bit too close to your clothed vagina.

"Just like this," he said and his hand slid up from your knee to your waist getting under the top a little.

From your point of view, the skinship was completely irrelevant but you decided to keep your sharky comments to yourself. For now, you were going to follow his instructions and maybe you could avoid the conflict.

Maybe not.

This time around when you were trying to deflect his arm, once again he outpowered you. You cursed as he said with disappointment in his voice (you were pretty sure it was the fake one, he was enjoying it, that bastard):

"You're too slow, y/n-chan. Do you think attackers would just stand there and watch as you crawl your way out of their grip as a turtle in slow-mo?"

"Dazai, I'd appreciate it if you-"

"Again," he cut you harshly, puppeting you around like you were nothing but a doll.

His attitude towards you was so demoralizing you were fighting the urge to end it here and there. Losing all the motivation and looking exhausted, you tried to go through the motion again but Dazai wasn't having it.

"Hm, y/n-chan, kinda feels like you're not trying hard enough. Should I give you a motivation boost?" he exclaimed cheerfully but before you could say that he should go fuck himself he had already pushed you to the wall. Again.

You were expecting harsh words pouring from his mouth, but instead, it was the kisses as he roughly pulled your hair baring your neck for him. The hot tongue travelled from your shoulder to the globe of your ear, prompting you to jolt. Once again you attempted to push him away but could barely move. His left hand was pinning your wrist and his right one was painfully tagging at your hair, cranking your head to the side.

"Dazai," you wanted to let him know that you understood his intentions but he needed to stop when a not so gentle bite quickly shut you up.

He was licking and nipping leaving hickeys at your poor neck. You were squirming and whirling under his touch not giving up yet, so he thrust his hips into yours. There was no way you could keep any sounds in, so a whiny moan escaped your lips. You felt Dazai stopping, a satisfied smirk on his lips, then without saying a word, he continued torturing your sensitive neck. Two things were clear to you: a strong lust was taking over your body which meant that you were slowly losing yourself and that Dazai had just started playing with you, there were more to come.

Dazai. Dazai! Realising who was the man behind you, you tried to gain back control. Osamu was just being a bully, whywere you letting him see you in such a state? He certainly didn't deserve nor your moans, nor your hips grinding his.

You were thinking this but it took everything in you to not just give in to his touch. While you were having an internal battle, Dazai pulled away with a loud pop.

"Five."

"Five what?" you mewled weakly.

"There are five hickeys on your neck," Dazai murmured. "You look so good, all red and moaning. When you can't even do anything. You've been definitely enjoying it, sure you still want to continue learning self-defence techniques?"

You widened your eyes at his words.

"Excuse me?!" you exploded. "What the hell are you implying?!"

With all force, you shoved him in the side with an elbow. Dazai hissed and even though the attack was fairly weak he let go.

"I mean, no kink-shaming," he put hands in the air surrendering.

"What's your problem?!"

It was hard for you to overcome your desire of slapping him but no way in hell you were staying in one room with him for another second. You bolted but Dazai was quicker, catching your hand.

"Where're you going? For a moment there I thought you didn't agree and wanted to continue," he quipped. "Come on, that was just one technique."

"Dazai, let me go," you growled yanking your hand free. "I've had enough of you today, I'm leaving."

You had already turned to leave when he pulled you to the ground. You snorted in frustration, your legs fiercely kicking but the lack of strategy played against you and there you were - trapped under him. Osamu was sitting between your legs with his arms pinning yours to the ground.

You felt unbearably hot and weak, your cunt throbbing against his groin. His face was hanging right above yours, so close you could feel his breath. Unintentionally your eyes focused on his lips then you looked up. Only now you noticed how lustful his gaze was. He clearly was a winner today and he was about to enjoy his prize. As you licked your lips, your recognised your mistake - now your eagerness was more than obvious.

"I'm just parched," you faltered but it sounded pathetic even to you.

"I'm sure you are," Osamu whispered, sitting back. "One more technique and I'll let you go." His fingers gripped your thighs.

Since his weight was off you now, you felt kind of cold. Not knowing where to place your arms, you were about to put them next to your sides when Dazai commanded you to keep them still.

That position was too sexy for your liking - arms are placed next to your head, legs spread. All of it without his control felt like you were offering yourself to him. Like you were submitting. The man was clearly savouring it because his gaze was so intense, in the end, you even had to avert yours.

Dazai clearly didn't like it, tapping your left thigh:

"Look at me, y/n-chan, how else are you supposed to learn?"

You slowly turned back, embarrassed as your eyes darted all over him until they abruptly stopped at his crotch. There was a visible boner in his pants. When Osamu followed your gaze and loudly chuckled you felt your cheeks grow hot and desire growing stronger.

"Concentrate, y/n-chan," Dazai said amusingly but the only thing you could concentrate on was the wetness between your legs. You feared it might start to be visible through your shorts.

"Look, if someone got you into this position," Osamu continued like both of you didn't want the same thing and that thing was to fuck. "You have to keep your arms straight and put them on your shoulders, like this," he gently took your hands and placed them as he instructed. "Then you should put your leg on my hip," he tried to do it for you once again but your leg was wobbly. All the strength you had was wasted on keeping your arms straight.

Dazai sighed theatrically but he couldn't keep a vicious sparkle in his eyes.

"Y/n-chan," he whinged. "You're such a bad student. Weak. Stupid," his fingers were slowly stroking your thigh. "Having a short attention span. Don't you think that you should have concentrated on learning some stuff instead of thinking about my cock?" With this question his arm groped your ass, pulling you closer.

He gripped your hips and you let out a moan. Now you weren't trying to hold back. You were already a loser, might as well enjoy it. Being a tease he was, Dazai wasn't ready to give you everything right then and there but you were having none of it. You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him closer by his collarbone. Osamu certainly wasn't ready for such a force so he confusingly complied.

"Call me stupid one more time and I'm leaving," you warned him, a confident smirk playing on your lips.

Dazai's face quickly changed from surprised to a perverse one. He dropped down on you, pinning you with his whole body and slammed his hips into yours. As you moaned he caressed your face, lovingly brushing your hair, and then whispered:

"I'm gonna break you, pretty doll."

With one swift motion, he put your wrists in one hand pinning it above your head, his tongue running over your lips then dragging you into a deep kiss. As you two were hungrily kissing each other you felt his fingers crawling under your waistband. You jolted, an instinct of placing your hand over his acting up but he was still holding you firmly. He ran one finger over your cunt but you were already shaking, silently begging for more.

"Dazai," you moaned desperately asking him to get down to business.

"You're so wet, y/n-chan," he licked your earlobe making you writhe. "I wish I teased you a little bit more," he started to kiss your jaw getting lower and lower. "I said that I'd break you but it seems you're already at your limit," he chortled, helping you to take your top and bra off.

"You look so beautiful," he murmured once you were almost fully naked in front of him.

Suddenly his gaze turned soft and you felt even more aroused than you before. Gladly the man wasn't planning on wasting any time as he started to lick, nip and bite one of your nipples, playing with his fingers with another. Moaning lewdly and rutting your hips you put your hand into his hair, curling soft strands in your fingers.

When he finished playing with your tits, he wanted to go further down, to place kisses on your lower stomach, but you decided to get back at him. Placing your straight hands on his shoulders, you put a leg on his thigh just as he instructed and squirmed out of his grip.

"You talk about me but look at yourself," you shoved a knee between his thighs, pushing it at his boner. "You were hard even before I started to feel something else besides irritation."

Now it was Osamu whose breath hitched. You were savouring your little win when he looked back at you with a dangerous grin. That was when you realised you fucked up. He quickly grabbed your leg and turned you over on the stomach. Laying down on you, he harshly seized your hair and hissed:

"A+ for learning the technique, but your attitude towards you teacher," he took off your shorts with pants nearly ripping them. "Needs some correction."

That was when the sound of a loud slap broke the silence of the room. You jolted, a gasp leaving your lips. You tried to crawl from him but his grip on your hair was strong.

"Come on, y/n-chan, it was just one slap. Don't you think you deserve it?" The hand that hit you was stroking your bruised ass cheek.

"It fucking hurt," you spit.

"Was it?" Dazai chuckled. "Say that you're sorry."

"For what?" you raged but another hit was your answer.

"Dazai, stop," you sobbed.

"Wrong," he retorted slapping your ass again. "Plus, if you don't like it why are you leaking so much?"

You embarrassingly bit a lip at his remark.

"A little bit of masochistic, are you?" Dazai noted. "Well, if you insist, I can keep on going."

You knew that both of you were barely holding it, so you decided to submit. Just this once.

"I'm sorry!" You squealed after another hit.

"Good girl," Osamu placed a soft kiss on your back still not letting go of your hair. "Now it's time for a treat."

And with that, he finally pushed the first finger into you. Since you were so wet there was a little pool under you, Dazai successfully pushed another finger shortly after. You quivered and jerked your hips begging him to move. This time around your colleague decided not to tease you.

As his fingers were pumping in and out of you, you were trying to push your head down to steady yourself but Dazai didn't let go. You were completely at his will.

"'m close," you mewled, your eyes rolling back.

Dazai hummed in acknowledgement and withdrew his hand. You groaned offendedly but heard the sound of a condom wrapper being ripped and then felt something else rubbing at your entrance.

Finally, Osamu positioned himself behind you and pushed inside, your pussy stretching obediently. The fullness made you gasp pervertedly. As he started moving your mind went completely blank. The only thing that existed for you at that moment was Dazai and his cock inside of you. He let go of your hair, one hand now was holding your hips and another one was giving attention to your clit.

You had no idea how he was still holding on but once your sensitive bud got stimulated you quickly come undone.

"Once more," Dazai panted while moving and playing with your clit simultaneously.

Even though you were tired, you had actually felt desire growing again. Osamu was just way too good for you to resist. You thought that the only thing he was chasing was his high, but he didn't cum until you orgasmed again denying himself every time he got too close. That's why when you cummed for the second time you did it toghether.

He rolled off you, but you couldn't move even a finger, for a moment you've gone completely numb. Your chest was going up and down with heavy breaths, your heart was racing. None of you spoke because you didn't know what to talk about. Especially, since you, personally, felt way too embarrassed to admit that you had just cummed two times because of an annoying Dazai Osamu.

"Looks like we ended in time!" Dazai chirped after some time and you looked at the clock realising that you spent here one hour. Just like it was promised.

"Wish I had actually learned something though," you remarked lazily, trying to pull on your shorts back. You just had to make it to the shower room and then wear your casual clothes. However, your pants were completely ruined.

"Well, if you think that you need another one, just let me know," you looked back at Dazai and his smirk told you that he wasn't meaning the self-defence lessons. You felt your cheeks grow hot again.

"Yeah, sure," you muttered, awkwardly leaving the training room.

From now on you intended on avoiding Dazai whenever it's possible.

Little did you know he had other plans.

[kaidenya]

Getting Caught ✧ MHA

Description: Headcanons for getting caught in a intimate moment with Hitoshi Shinso, Tenya Iida, Mirio Togata, & Tomura Shigaraki

WARNING: NSFW, suggestive content NOTE: This is a repost of an old SHITPOST headcanon I had on my previous account so if this looks familiar I hope you enjoy it the second time around!

“Nobody will know...”

Shinso

Shinso would go to his grave claiming that you were to blame for this situation

But in all honesty, he had been allowing things to build for far too long

You two weren’t necessarily a secret, but most people just assumed you were bEsT fRiEnDs 🥴

It was an honest misunderstanding

You had decided to keep physical contact to a minimum after an unfortunate attempt at holding his hand left you believing he didn’t enjoy any forms of PDA.

Shinso had just assumed the same about you.

However, as the two of you grew more serious, you found it more difficult to keep your hands to yourself

It just so happened your boyfriend had been working extremely hard in the hero course and it s h o w e d

You had found yourself admiring his changing physique and in turn, found you weren’t the only one admiring your boyfriend.

You weren’t necessarily jealous— you trusted him more than anything, but he tended to be socially constipated

And nobody seemed to know about you. Thus giving the other interested parties an unintentional greenlight to flirt with him. And there was one girl that had stood out among the sea of suitors.

Each time you saw the second-year girl perch next to Shinso it made your skin crawl, but no lines had been crossed.

Until they were.

Your knuckles were gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it ached when you made your way to where your boyfriend was perched outside

The second-year didn’t even acknowledge you as she continued her flirtatious ways and you don’t resist the urge to roll your eyes as you settle into the place next to him.

He had flashes you a lazy smile before focusing back on his phone screen.

Then her hand landed on his upper thigh

Let me tell you: sleepy boy was shocked when she touched him, but he was EVEN MORE SHOCKED when you took her by the wrist and tossed her hand to the side

You waste no time threading your fingers with his, rising to your feet and all but hauling him from his seat

His amusement only grew as he realized just how jealous you had gotten, a smirk forming over his lips as he set to teasing you

‘What’s the matter, kitty? You don’t like anyone touching daddy?’

NO, YOU DO NOT

You have no idea how you ended up on your knees in a supply closet??

Shinso is feeling very sure of himself above you, using the hand that was gripping the back of your neck as leverage to hold you down on his length

k i n g of dirty talk 🤭

Absolutely cannot help himself when it comes to telling you how pretty you look choking on his cock

Honestly doesn’t last long, but what do you expect? Seeing your jealous and possessive response to the girl he had given little to no acknowledgment had lit a fire in his chest

He was desperate to get his hands on you, to remind you that he was just as much yours as you were his.

And when he does— oh MAN he makes you forget all about the second-year girl

He has one of your legs draped over his shoulder as he goes down on you, licking and sucking at you in a way that had you trembling

You accidentally knock over a pile of brooms and mops, neither of you paying them any mind as your head lulled in bliss

If only you had remembered to flick the lock on the door…

Kirishima really thought someone was banging on the door for help. It wouldn’t have been manly— or heroic not to make sure someone wasn’t in trouble

Besides, why else would someone be making so much noise in a supply closet if they weren’t stuck??

So when the door swung open and he locked eyes with you, still panting and moaning as an all too familiar head of purple hair buried further into your heat—

He let out the loudest shout he could muster. Apologies poured from his mouth as he fumbled to shut the door

However, your boyfriend made no move to let you go. Instead, he hummed against your skin, only leaning back to nip at your inner thigh before speaking in a heavy voice

‘Better make this fast, kitty.’

Iida

So you’ve tried to keep your relationship on the down-low bc Iida doesn’t want anyone to think he’s distracted

We all know he just doesn’t wanna be called out for his obvious favoritism

Before you got together you were constantly pushing him, breaking minuscule rules in favor of gaining his attention. Nothing too immoral, but enough to get under his skin.

Like slipping into class just seconds after the bell had rung, nearly avoiding Aizawa’s attention, but never making it past Iida.

Or when a class had gotten a bit too stressful, the room filling with hot air as tensions rose and you had to pop open a few buttons of your uniform top

Then there was your favorite offense; desk sitting. If there was one sure way to get a reaction from your stickler of a boyfriend it was to place yourself on top of a desk.

Which is what you found yourself doing at the end of an unfavorable week. The two of you hadn’t gotten a moment together outside of your studies and you were growing needy.

So with a few moments of free time before class began, you decided to chat with Tsu and Uraraka, settling atop the desk between them when you had grown tired of standing

The desk belonging to none other than Tenya

Your ankles were crossed as you leaned forward to speak with Tsuyu and he was beyond s h o o k

Immediate hand chopping.

He’s towering over you, ranting about how your behavior was improper while keeping his hands clenched in an attempt to keep from running his fingertips along your thighs.

When was the last time you were this close to him? It had to have been longer than he realized for him to have such a strong reaction— are you biting your lip??

Any response between you died off as Aizawa addressed the class and you were sent back to your seat, leaving Iida far more frazzled than you realized

The moment class ends he has you tucked under an empty stairwell to continue his lecture

Only he doesn’t get very far

Tenya Iida has an authority kink. I take no criticism.

When you look up at him from under your lashes, muttering the words ‘yes sir’ as he chastised you, his resolve was shattered

Has you pressed against the wall immediately, fisting your blazer as he dips to press his forehead to yours

‘Why must you push me?’

Doesn’t even let you answer before his mouth is covering yours, hips arching to grind his obvious arousal against you

Knowing he had been just as affected by your as you had him was enough to spur a moan past your lips and he takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth

Although he was MORTIFIED at the impropriety of it all, he couldn’t resist the sweet noises you made as he expertly worked against you

His hand eventually slides between you, pushing past the waistband of your bottoms and grinding his palm against you teasingly

‘Now, who do you belong to, darling?’

You you youyouyou—

Your hand was rubbing along Iida’s hard cock, his length straining against his pants to the point you’re almost worried they’ll rip

Somehow the two of you had been so lost in one another that you hadn’t heard the door open at the top of the stairwell

Denki and Mineta honestly weren’t creeping this time— they just wanted a snack from the vending machine adjacent to you!

Got a whole ass meal instead 👁👄👁

A moan tore from your throat, quickly being smothered by Tenya’s parted lips as you came on his fingers

You had barely made out the echoing sound of objects clattering to the ground through the ringing in your ears

But your boyfriend had heard

His lips separated from you in an instant, shocked gaze shifting into something closer to anger as he recognized your classmates

Denki began stammering out an apology, looking close to short-circuiting as his attention flickered between you

Mineta had let his gaze linger on you for too long. His eyes taking in the way your exposed chest— Tenya must have pulled the buttons loose

You cringe away from his gaze, post-orgasm haze™ spurring you to tuck yourself closer to Tenya to avoid their stares rather than snap at them

It was your obvious discomfort that had kicked Iida into gear, twisting to thread your button your blouse together before rounding on the others

If embarrassment wasn’t enough, the thought of them having seen you in such a vulnerable position had him seething as he began his lecture

Attempts hand chopping them into submission, but they kept disregarding his words in favor of catching another glimpse of you in a fucked out state

All fondness for his classmates had vanished as he stepped into their line of sight, shielding you from their gazes. His eyes almost daring them to continue

Whatever words lingering on their tongues died off, heads bowing in shame as they agreed to keep the entire situation to themselves

After all, the potential wrath of Tenya Iida was not something to be taken lightly.

Mirio

Mirio’s love language is touch, without a doubt, so it’s honestly surprising when he’s NOT trying to get handsy with you

He’s always defended his obvious displays of affection by claiming he had so little free time— he’d be a fool to waste the opportunity to touch you!

Mirio jumped at the opportunity to feel you against him. Whether it was a heavy kiss to your lips after walking you to class, a hand slipping under your shirt to caress your back, or his fingers trailing teasingly along your thigh.

However, as much as he was attentive, he was also forgetful.

It was because of that forgetfulness that you found yourself alone in your dorm. Countless boxes of takeout were lined up on your desk and a pre-planned movie was ready to play on your small tv.

After a few hours and countless delivered messages, you succumbed to disappointment.

The following day Mirio can’t seem to figure out why you’re avoiding him, but he refuses to give up without a fight.

Definitely thinks it’s a game of some sort and takes it upon himself to break your silent streak

It wasn’t easy being upset with Mirio. He had an uncanny ability to brighten any room he stepped into and being irrevocably in love with him only strengthened his effect

He’s always hard for you and loves letting you know just how you affect him— so why not place a hand on your hand, pressing firmly against your back when he slips past?

You always look so stunning— why not feed you compliments at every given moment?

How could he not look at you with the most iNTENSE GAZE undressing you with his eyes in front of everyone?

It’s when he realizes that you aren’t reacting to his teasing and flirtatious behaviorist that he caves.

He finds you between classes, stirring you away from the crowd, despite your wordless protests. It isn’t until you’re tucked away in an abandoned hall that he finally asks what was wrong

You had fully intended on dragging it out, allowing anger to push you on. But he spoke to you in the softest voice, looked at you with eyes filled with so much devotion that it was nearly overwhelming

He is shocked when you shove him away— were you tearing up??

Actually gets super defensive because he doesn’t realize HES the one that made you upset

Once you finally cave and remind him about the date he had missed it hits him like a freight train.

The two of you so rarely got time together and he had stood you up.

‘I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve been so busy lately— I didn’t realize I was neglecting you.’

Does not waste time making it up to you. He cups your face in his hands as he starts placing soft kisses on your face, cooing softly as tears roll down your cheeks

Did somebody say praise kink?

How can you stay mad at him when he’s telling you how sorry he is and that he loves you and you’re the only one his dick will get hard for??

It isn’t long before he’s pinned you between him and the wall, hitching your legs around his waist while coaxing you into a heavy kiss

His hips flex to grind against you, his hot length slotting between your thighs as he digs his fingertips into the curve of your ass

Mirio does not care that somebody could see— his quirk leaves him naked all the time and he’s shameless 🥵

But again he’s so forgetful—

And he was meant to go straight to class 1A to talk with them alongside the other members of The Big Three

So when he didn’t show up Aizawa had sent Tamaki and Midoriya in search of their future number one hero

How were you supposed to know they would turn the corner just as you arched from the wall?

Mirio had no idea anyone was there as he used the hand that was wrapped around your throat as leverage to grind you over the edge—

bOY were you embarrassed when you heard the two boys audibly g a s p

Midoriya’s embarrassment nearly gave Tamaki a run for his money. You were quick to turn away, immediately hiding your face in his chest as he greeted the duo in an overly cheerful voice

Absolutely teases the three of you over the incident FOREVER!!

Shigaraki

Shigaraki was obsessed with you.

There was no way around how infatuated he had become and it only seemed to grow alongside your relationship

He was touch starved. The moment you began giving him physical affection and attention it was game over

He had no shame, especially when it came to his desire for you, which is how you often found yourself perched on his lap no matter the company.

That being said, the leader of the League of Villains became intolerable when the two of you were separated for long.

And a recent spiral of events has prevented you from returning to the hideout, thus leaving the others to deal with him

You weren’t expected to return until the following week. Aside from texting Shigaraki endlessly (didn’t he have anything better to do?) and assuring Twice and Toga that you’d be returning as soon as possible, you hadn’t had much contact with the League

Shigaraki was wound up tight, lashing out at the others far more than usual. That was how he ended up sitting at the bar, Father concealing his annoyance as Kurogiri took over the meeting.

And suddenly you were walking in, muttering a quick apology before taking the only available seat beside Toga

Shigaraki could not keep his eyes off of you, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. It was the most present he had been since you left.

Of course, that meant Dabi has also noticed and never missing an opportunity to mess with their ruthless leader he shifted closer from his place behind you, muttering small talk into your ear

There is no doubt in my mind that Shigaraki was staring at you both like 😠 behind Father

Luckily the meeting had been wrapping up upon your arrival and the group was dismissed, many leaving to handle their own business.

However, the moment you had leaped to your feet Tomura had vanished from the room

With a sigh you moved over to the bar, sliding into the seat that had once been occupied by your man and Kurogiri placed a drink before you

By the time you had downed the last bit the bar had gotten eerily quiet, though when you shifted to speak to the Misty Man he was already looking over your shoulder. With a single nod, he had left the room.

The moment he was gone leather artist gloves shoved under your top, your heart racing at the all too familiar feeling as a palm settled between your shoulders

‘I’ve missed you, pet.’

There was a harsh tone to his voice, but it was contradicted by the trail of open-mouthed kisses he pressed along your neck and shoulder

Your entire body arched against him, head craning back to catch a glimpse of him, smiling widely as you met his gaze and returned the sentiment

A scoff slid past his lips, though you could see the amusement dancing in his gaze as his hand reached around to wrap around your throat

Despite the gloves, he kept a pinky in the air

His mouth covers yours in a sloppy kiss as his hips jolt sharply against you, knocking you against the countertop

Absolutely cannot control himself as he ruts against you, wasting little to no time in pushing your bottoms down past your thighs

Heat pooled in your stomach as his free hand reached between you to pull himself from his jeans

His dick slid between your thighs, a throaty whine sliding past your lips and despite the slick from your arousal the thick head stretched you perfectly

You had been completely lost in him, moaning and whining freely as he continued to rut against you.

There was a click throughout the room, similar to the door handle being twisted and your attention was adverted to the source

However, Shigaraki was faster.

He grabbed the back of your head and using his hold as leverage to press your face flat against the bar-top while his other hand worked against your sensitive center. A loud moan that was undoubtedly his name tumbled past your lips

‘There’s my little slut— louder, make sure they know who makes you feel this good.’

Unbeknownst to you, the person he wanted to be sure knew you were his had entered the room, Tomura meeting his gaze with a smirk as you began chanting his name like a prayer

A harsh thrust of his hips sent you over the edge as you came on his cock, filthy praises slipping past his lips as his hot release rolled down your thighs

He placed another sloppy kiss on the back of your neck before parting from you.

The moment you lift your head and begin adjusting yourself you lock eyes with Dabi

Embarrassed didn’t even begin to explain how you felt as Tomura let out a loud laugh, reaching down to pull your bottoms up after he had tucked himself away

‘Go wait on my bed while I speak with Dabi and I may let you come on my tongue.’

You wasted no time hurrying away from the two, heart pounding from both excitement and humiliation as you rushed to do as you were told

[c-is-for-circinate]

Wait, isn't "anti" stuff more like "anti-pedophilia" and stuff? Like, you have a point about anti-porn attitudes, but from what I've heard just "anti" on its own means against stuff like kid porn and incest porn and legitimately f*cked up sh*t like that.

Okay!  So this, I think, is actually a great example of what I was talking about, and a really useful thing to understand.  (CW rape, child abuse, etc)

Smarter people than me have written much better essays about why policing thoughtcrimes is a bad road to go down, and I will probably reblog some of them next time they cross my dash for more context.  What I want to talk about is the trigger mechanism, the ‘oh, this looks like danger!!!’ immune response in how we look at different kinds of porn, and how that applies to anti culture.

Here’s the thing: I am anti-pedophilia.  I think that, for most people, that’s a stance that largely goes without saying!  Adults who prey on children are bad.  I’m also against incest; relatives who prey on their family members are bad.  Above all I oppose rape.  Sexual predation of any kind is bad.  In fact, I’d say that’s the most important item on the list.  There is plenty of room to argue about where the lines are between ‘adult’ and ‘child’ and how teenagers fit in the middle, and there’s plenty of room to get historical about the lines between ethically terrible incest, distasteful-but-bearable “aristocratic inbreeding” between distant cousins, and the kind of consanguinity that tends to develop in a small town where everyone’s vaguely related to everyone else by now anyway.  The core of the issue is consent, and it has always been consent.  Pedophilia and incest are horrific because they are rape scenarios where the abuser has far more power and their victim far fewer resources to cope, both practically and emotionally; because harm to children is, to us as a culture, worse than harm to adults, for a lot of very valid reasons; and because they constitute betrayal of trust the victim should have been able to put in their abuser as well as rape--but they are all rape scenarios, and that’s why they’re awful. 

These things are bad.  It is good for us to have a social immune response system that recognizes these things when they’re happening and insists we step in.  That is a good thing to develop!  It helps us, as a society.  It can help the people being victimized.  It’s the same reason educators and childcare workers in the US are all mandated reporters, why we do background checks on people working near kids.  These things happen, and they’re terrible, and it’s good that we try to be aware and prepared for them.  (Though obviously studies show we’re a lot less good at protecting the vulnerable than we’d like to pretend we are.)

The question is: why does that same social immune response trigger, and trigger so angrily, in response to fiction?

Anti culture is fundamentally an expression of that social immune response.  Specifically, it’s that social immune response when it is set off by a situation that, while it has some similarities to the very bad real-life crime of sexual predation including pedophilia and incest, is in and of itself harmless.

If you’re instinct is to flare up in anger or dismissiveness because I’m calling these things harmless, I want to ask you to just take a deep breath and bear with me for a bit longer.  What you’re feeling right now is an allergic reaction.

Humans tell and read and listen to stories about “legitimately fucked up shit” all the time.  It’s part of the human condition.  It’s part of how we process those things happening, not just to use, but to other people in the world around us.  It’s part of how we process completely unrelated fucked-up shit, playing with fears and furies and insecurities that we all have, through so may layers of fiction that we don’t even recognize them any more, playing with power dynamics in metaphor and making characters suffer for fun.  Aside from the fact that literally all stories do this to some extent or another; aside from the fact that drawing lines between ‘ok that’s good storytelling’ and ‘that’s too fucked-up to write about’ is arbitrary, subjective, and dangerous in its own right; aside from all of that, these stories are stories.  All of them. 

Even the ones about rape, about incest, about pedophilia.  They’re words on a page.  No real children were harmed, touched, or even glanced at in the making of this work of fiction.  This story, pornographic though it may be, is part of a conversation between consenting adults.  (And if a teenager lies about their age to consent, that is a different problem altogether.)

Stories in and of themselves, no matter what they’re about, are no more dangerous than a crate full of oranges.  Which is to say: utterly harmless, unless all you have to eat is oranges, all day every day, and you find yourself dying slowly of nutrient deficiency--which is why representation matters.  Or unless someone wields one deliberately, violently, as a tool to cause harm, and someone gets acid in their eye--which is the fault of the person holding the orange. And unless you happen to be allergic to citrus.

The key here is this twofold understanding:  First, the thing that hurts you can also have value to others.  Real, legitimate value.  Whether you’ve undergone trauma and certain story elements are straight-up PTSD triggers or you just don’t like orange juice, that story, those tropes, that crate of oranges may be somewhere between icky and fundamentally abhorrent--but we understand that that is still your reaction.  Even if you don’t understand how anybody could ever enjoy it; even if every single person you surround yourself with is as sensitive and disgusted and itchy about this thing that makes your eyes hurt and your throat stop working as you; that doesn’t make it true for everyone.  That doesn’t make oranges poisonous.  No real children were involved in the writing of this story.  It is words on a page.

But, secondly: the thing that has value to others can also hurt you.  Just because a story isn’t inherently poison doesn’t mean it can’t cause you, personally, pain.  That’s what a PTSD trigger is: an allergic reaction, psychological anaphylaxis, a brain that’s trying so hard to protect its own from a threat that isn’t actually present (but was once, and the brain is trained to respond) that it causes far more harm and misery than the trigger itself possibly could.  And no, it’s not just people with PTSD who sometimes get hurt by stories.  There are many, many ways a story can poke the part of your brain that says, this is Bad, I don’t like this, I don’t want to be here.  The story is still, always, every time, pixels on a screen and ink on paper.  The story causes no physical harm.  But it can poke your brain into misery, it can stir up your emotions, it can make you want to cringe and run away.  It can make you want to scream and fight and go after the author who brought this thing into existence.  It can make you hurt.

This is an allergic reaction.  This is your brain and body, your reflexes and instincts, trying to protect you from something that isn’t really happening.  And just like a literal allergic reaction, it can do actual harm to you if it gets set off.  This is real.  The fact that stories can upset you to the point of pain and mental/emotional injury is real, even though it’s coming from your own brain and not the story itself.  There are stories you shouldn’t read.  There are stories I shouldn’t read, regret reading, will never read, because they hurt me.  That doesn’t mean they’re the same stories that would hurt you.  That doesn’t mean they don’t have value.

And, finally:

If getting upset about stories is fundamentally an individual person’s allergic reaction, their brain freaking out and firing off painful survival instincts in the face of a thing that isn’t, in and of itself, a threat?  Then the anti movement is a cultural allergic reaction.

Fandom as a whole has a pretty active immune system, which doesn’t mean we have a good immune system.  We try very hard to be aware of all the viruses and -isms and abuse and manipulation and cruelty, both systematic and individual, that exists around and within our community.  We’re primed and ready to shout about things at all times.  The anti movement is that system, that culture, screaming and shouting and fighting at a harmless thing on a grand scale.  It wants to stop that thing, that scary awful thing that trips all of its well-primed danger sensors, at all costs.  It’ll swell up and block off our airways (our archives) if it has to.  It’ll turn on the body it came from.  It’s scared and protective and trying to fight, and it’s ready to fight and destroy itself.

Luckily, fans and fanfic and fandom and fan culture are a lot bigger and older than they often get credit for, and it’s not like these cultural allergies are anything new.  We could talk about shippers and slashers in the X-Files fandom in the 90s.  We could talk about the birth of fandom in the days of Star Trek.  We could talk about censorship and book burning going back centuries.  We survived that and we’ll survive this, too.

But god, does the anti movement my throat and eyes itch.  Man is it irritating, and sometimes a little suffocating, to realize how many stories just aren’t getting told out of fear of what the antis will say.  And that’s the real danger, I think.  What are we losing that would have so much value to someone?  What are we missing out?