#I had to repose them so many times >_< | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gallusrostromegalus · 1 year

Note

the 'Kon :)' in the list of things you're pleased about in aeiwam has be EXCITED please tell us more (if you want to)!

Soon after Masaki died, Isshin Kurosaki moved his family. It's mostly because the original clinic didn't feel haunted- if Masaki's spirit were still here, Isshin would know what to do, but instead he felt like his heels were dogged by the hole where she used to be.

It didn't hurt that the new place was larger, in a better school district, and closer to his friend Ryukken. He's almost feeling cheerful about the new place when Ichigo runs up the stairs and from room to room before calling dibs on one, because he's a big kid now and doesn't want to sleep where he has to listen to his dad snoring all night >:(.

Isshin felt slightly less cheerful when he looked out the big window in Ichigo's room to determine if he needs to put up some child safety grates, and realized their new neighbor was a taxidermist.

"I feel like it gives them a sort of dignity- A Life After Life, if you will." she said when he went by to make sure his neighbor was only eccentric and not something out of a horror movie. He wasn't entirely sure which, actually- Ms. Tanaka was an octogenarian with skin like tissue paper and a back like a question mark, but her living room was a veritable zoo of reconstituted animals, many of them former pets, if the number of domestic cats was anything to go by.

"Oh. Yeah!" Isshin grinned, terrified, and was struck by the idea of some goon in the 12th division slavering in the afterlife, desperate for her to shuffle off the mortal coil and bring her undoubted skills with dead bodies to R&D. "We've always been very spiritual people."

(Continued under the readmore)

"Oh, just like the nice young man who used to live in your house!" said Ms. Tanaka, sitting down in her armchair that was adorned by an ostentatious past-tense peacock perched on the back. "Odd fellow. Worked nights, spoke like he was born in the Sengoku Era or something, but very nice."

"He's BEAUTIFUL!" said Ichigo, staring in awe at an enormous Ginger Tabby Cat by the window, mounted in repose on a emerald velvet cat bed. Ms. Tanaka had done an excellent job conveying a sense of benevolent egotism on his whiskered face, but Ichigo's growing fascination with the Macabre was beginning to worry his father- Ichigo had seen the taxidermy stoat in the back window and INSISTED on coming along.

"Isn't he?" beamed Ms. Tanaka. "His name is Bostov! He was my very best friend for many years."

"Wow! Can I pet him?" Ichigo asked, eyes wide with delight.

"Ichigo, that's uh- that's not a real kitty-" Isshin began to sputter.

"Of course he's a real kitty!" Ms. Tanaka laughed, a noise like an ungreased gate. "You can pet him if you're very gentle." Ichigo stroked the deceased animal with exceptional delicacy for an overexcited Kindergartner. "He's so soft!" he gasped.

"Do you like him?" asked Ms. Tanaka.

"I LOVE HIM!" Said Ichigo, cheeks flushed and eyes bright for the first time in months now. Perhaps having a distant relative of the Addams family for a neighbor isn't so bad, if her creepy hobby cheers Ichigo up... Isshin sighed.

"In that case, why don't you take him home with you?" Smiled Ms. Tanaka. "I'm sure he'll be a good friend to you too."

"UH." Isshin blurted out, nearly spilling his tea on a flock of quail under the side-table.

"I have SO MANY friends in my home with me- it's bordering on a fire hazard!" Ms. Tanaka chuckled. "I'd be delighted to send him to a home where he'll be loved. Please- consider him my housewarming present!"

"CAN WE? CAN WE TAKE HIM HOME? PLEASE DAD??PLEEEEEEEASE-!!" Ichigo asked, stars in his eyes.

Isshin froze, horrified at the prospect of having... That. In his house. Watching him. ...and at the same time, completely unwilling to dash his little boy's dreams.

"yEaH oKaY." Isshin grimaced, soaked in a cold sweat.

*****

Bostov The Former Cat was bad enough, but at least the taxidermy beast 'lived' on Ichigo's bedroom dresser and not down in the living room where Isshin would have to look at it's green glass eyes, which seemed to follow him around the room. It wasn't right having a hollow thing in the house like that- any wandering spirit could decide to climb in there! He resolved to have it warded, but Kisuke said he was on a trip to the Caribbean for "Botanical Research" , and wouldn't be back until "After the Big Holiday on the 20th". Isshin hung up the phone, groaned and rubbed his face. It was fairly late, and he was still at the kitchen table, going through all of the licensing paperwork to get the clinic up and running.

"Hey Dad?" Ichigo asked, holding up a small plastic toy. "What's 'Soul Candy'?"

"Soul Cand-?" Isshin frowned, turned to look at the toy and nearly jumped out of his skin, swiping it away from the boy. "WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS? DID YOU EAT ANY??"

"...it was upstairs, in the back of my closet." Ichigo pouted. "-and no, I didn't eat any strange closet candy. I'm not stupid."

"Oh thank the Gods..." Isshin sighed, sitting back down at the table and shaking the small, duck-headed pill dispenser. Empty. "-I'm sorry I yelled Ichigo, but this is Very Dangerous stuff."

Ichigo arched an incredulous Eyebrow at him. "Really? Is this the same kind of dangerous that the half my Halloween candy you confiscated and ate was?"

"Ah- well. No. That was Dad Tax. This is actually dangerous. Here, come sit with me a minute." he pulled out the other chair at the kitchen table. "Remember how I told you about the ghost that lived in my attic when I was your age?"

"The Shinigami?" Ichigo asked.

Isshin did not *enjoy* lying to his children, but a little knowledge was a dangerous thing, and not enough even more so, so he'd concocted a little fantasy to explain why he knew all about ghosts and why the children never saw their grandparents, so he could tell them about the dangers of this world without telling them too much.

"That's right- His name was Kaien Shiba, and he was a Soul Reaper. At night, he'd turn into a ghost and leave his body behind, and go escort spirits to the afterlife or fight hollows." Isshin said. he'd named the fictional soul reaper after his favorite nephew in a fit of inspiration- he'd started telling Ichigo a tale from his days as a Shinigami one night after slightly too many drinks and had to convince Ichigo that that was only a distant acquaintance.

"...Like what killed Mom." Ichigo muttered.

"Um. Yeah." Isshin nodded.

They were silent for a moment.

"-Anyway, the way he turned into a ghost was that he'd swallow one of these little candies that would come in these tubes-" Isshin pulled the duck's head back to show Ichigo the mechanism. "-and Poof! he'd jump out of his body as a ghost so he could use magic to save people! But-there was a little soul inside the candy that would come out and take care of his body while he was away! Like a babysitter, but for his own butt! After a few hours, the little soul would stop working, and Kain would be home to climb back in."

Ichigo blinked at the mechanism, thinking. "So. There's a little person in these candies?"

"If there were any in here, yeah." Said Isshin. "They're not like. Whole people. Just little collages of behaviors and phrases. You know, like the fake voice that talks on the phone when you call to refill a prescription!" Ichigo frowned, considering something. "...There weren't any candies in this thing, were there?" Isshin asked, suspicious.

"No." Said Ichigo, frowning at him. "It'd be really lonely, being just a little soul, stuck in a candy, wouldn't it?" he asked.

"I suppose so, but I don't think the little souls are aware while they're in there. It's like being asleep for them." Isshin shrugged, lying to himself as much as his son about that.

Ichigo still frowned. "...What happens if the candy goes into a body without a soul in it? Like a dead body?" "Huh." Isshin frowned. "I dunno, actually. I guess the little soul would run around and operate it for a while, until it faded out, like it did with a normal body?"

Ichigo nodded, still preoccupied.

"Why?" Isshin tried.

"...No reason." Ichigo muttered, kicking his little feet. "Just thinking."

"Alright. Promise me if you find anything else weird or see any random candies to not touch them and tell me right away, okay?"

"Yeah okay." Ichigo nodded, only sort of paying attention. "I'm gonna go to bed. G'night dad." he muttered, getting up from the table and handing the dispenser to Isshin before giving him a quick hug and stomping up the stairs.

Isshin watched him go, aching a bit. I wondered how old he was gonna be when he started keeping secrets from me. He sighed, looking down at the Soul Candy Dispenser. Not that I'm being a Paragon of Honesty for him to follow...

---

"GIRLS? ICHIGO? HAVE ANY OF YOU SEEN MY STETHOSCOPE?" Isshin hollered, searching fruitlessly under the couch cushions.

"NO!" Hollered Karin from where she and Yuzu were playing in the small front yard.

"TRY ICHIGO'S ROOM, HE TOOK A BUNCH OF LAUNDRY UP TO SORT." called Yuzu.

"THANKS GIRLS!" he called back stomping up the stairs. Ichigo was at karate- he'd finally returned to classes, or at least, Tatsuki had finally physically dragged him back into the Dojo. "Man I hope I didn't put it through the washing machine-" he muttered, opening the door to the boy's room and started searching through the basket of laundry on his bed.

Isshin stopped, and stood up, frowning around the room. Something was off.

Ichigo was a tidy boy, somehow, and his room was usually in order save for whatever video game he had out to play and the bed he never made but... Isshin turned fully around trying to figure out what was off before his eyes finally landed on the top of the Dresser.

The Emerald Green Velvet Cat bed, home of Bostov The Cat, was empty.

"Did he take the cat out of the bed to play with?" Isshin wondered aloud, hoping that that, and not several other horrible scenarios, was what was happening. He could hear Karin and Yuzu giggling through the window, and he peeked down at them- they appeared to be having a tea party on the thin strip of grass, and the guest of honor amongst the dolls and stuffed animals was a familiar-looking ginger tabby. "Oh! The GIRLS took him out to play with." he sighed with relief, leaning against the window to watch them.

...and watch a strange man approaching down the street, who stopped at the garden fence. Isshin frowned- maybe he was just watching the girls play, in a normal, wholesome way like he was doing right now. ...or he could be taking candy out of his pocket and waving the girls to come through the gate.

Isshin jumped on the bed, tore open the window with such force it jumoed out of it's track and was halfway out to jump down at the man from the second floor when the most EXTRAORDINARY thing happened.

Bostov, Who by all accounts had been deceased for the better part of a decade and was made of little more than a skin and some glass stretched over a wood-and-cotton frame, Suddenly leapt up from his chair, claws and teeth drawn like swords and leapt upon the man, battering him visciously with a stream of einvective so foul it made Isshin's barrack-hardened linguistic sensibilities blush, before chasing him back down the street like a short, furious, ass-seeking missile.

"GIRLS!" he shouted, jumping down anyway. "-ARE YOU OKAY?"

"DON'T GET MAD AT ICHIGO OR KON!!" Shouted Yuzu, tears in her eyes.

"...ichigo or who?" Isshin blinked.

"Way to spill the beans, Yuzu." Karin groaned. "Yeah Dad, we're FINE- Kon was here, he'll beat the crap out of anything."

"Who's Kon?" Isshin repeated.

"HEY DAD." Shouted Ichigo, skidding into the garden in his karate gi, and out of breath, clutching an unconvincingly stiff Mr. Bostov under his arm. "SO. UH- WELL MR. BOSTOV CAN MOVE NOW. FOR SOME REASON."

"Uh-huh?" Isshin glared at the cat, who glanced away nervously. "Why do you think that is?"

"...it's a Christmas Miracle?" Tried Ichigo.

"Ichigo, it's fucking April." groaned Karin.

"...Passover?" tried Ichigo.

"-This wouldn't have anything to do with that Soul Candy Dispenser you found, would it?"

"uhhhhhhh..." said Ichigo. Honesty might not have been one of the boy's virtues, but at least he was a terrible liar.

"PLEASE DADDY DON'T GET ANGRY!!" Sobbed Yuzu, throwing herself around his calf and wailing. "MR. KON IS THE MOST NICEST KITTY IN THE WHOLE WORLD! HE PLAYS TEA TIME AND DRESS-UP WITH US AND TELLS JOKES AND CHASES AWAY DOGS AND SCARY MEN AND HE ALWAYS WAKES UP ICHIGO WHEN HE'S HAVING A NIGHTMARE-!"

"Yeah, actually, Kon's like. the first thing to make me laugh since. Well." Mumbled Karin, plodding over to Isshin's other leg and leaning heavily on him. "Please? he's weird, but he's a good guy."

Isshin sighed, then glared back down at the cat. "Alright. Who are you?" he demanded.

Ichigo and the formerly immobile cat glanced at each other and the feline unfolded as Ichigo set him down, shaking himself out and sitting on the walkway.

"So, uh- Hi. My name's Kon. Kon Bostov, if you wanna be formal, in honor of the beast whose body I currently inhabit." He nodded, waving a paw evocatively. "-And, uh. Well, how much do you know about the afterlife?"

"-Being from a long line of psychic mediums and prone to hauntings, my parents rented out our attic to a Shinigami when I was a child, and he told me pretty much everything." Said Isshin, and Kon winced. "So. Is 'Kon' short for 'Mod Konpaku'?"

"Ehh... well, Yeah." Kon winced. "-But hey! It wasn't my idea to be cooked up in a lab by some maniac and then put to death minutes later for something I didn't even do!" he snarled, fur bristling.

"What?" asked Karin.

"Kids I- Look, I didn't mean to lie, there just wasn't a good time to bring it up but. Technically, I'm wanted by the law. I'm an artificial soul created for battle to be put into dead bodies, but literally four and a half minutes after I woke up, the soul society- where all the Shinigami are from- condemned me to die, because they didn't like how strong some of the other Mod Souls were. I managed to roll myself off of the table and into a box of normal bodyminders to hide, Got put in a dispenser and then the shinigami that had been here accidentally left me behind." Kon explained.

"COOL!" Shouted Karin.

"NOT COOL. BAD!" Shouted Isshin. "Okay, okay I- I mean you're right, I never- I mean, the way Kaien told it, the whole Mod Soul program was pretty shady and it sounded really unfair. But why would a Shinigami just leave an important and dangerous tool lying around?"

"...I don't know how much spiritual sense you have my guy, but this town doesn't have a Hollow problem so much as the Hollowpocalylse goin' on." Kon grimaced. "-I really hope that guy's okay, he seemed pretty cool from what I could tell. I don't actually remember hearing him get called back to soul society." Kon muttered. "-Anyway, about three weeks ago, your brother found me in the dispenser in the back of his closet and put my candy body into this taxidermy cat, and I've been hanging out with the kids since then! You know, like a cat is supposed to do!"

Isshin stared blankly at Kon. The girls hugged his legs, lips wobbling, but he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, firming up his resolve- no matter how nice he seemed, a Mod Soul was a dangerous thing- and one crafty enough to live right under his nose for the better part of a month? No, absolutely n-

Isshin opened his eyes to see Ichigo had picked up Kon, cradling the cat to his tiny body, eyes wide and beginning to glisten with tears.

"...Ah. What the hell. You make the kids laugh." Isshin sighed, and all four cheered, thanking him profusely and promising to be extra-good and take good care of Kon- "But you put so much as a Whisker out of line and you're in deep trouble, got it?" Isshin leaned into the cat's face, scowling menacingly and shaking his finger at Kon.

"Understood sir!" Kon Saluted. "So when's dinner? Ichigo's been sneaking me scraps but I could really go for some chicken, or maybe ham-" he asked, tail thrashing excitedly.

"You can eat?" Isshin asked. "I thought you were all... Whatever they stuff taxidermy animals with?"

"-Might've been, but I'm all complete now? Fluff, guts, claws-the works!" Kon shrugged, hopping up on Isshin's shoulder. "-Between you an' me, I ain't even neutered! But that ain't a problem- Plenty of hot pussy around, if you know what I mean, especially that sweet little tuxedo bobtail just up the street- Me-YOW, huh?"

"Oh gods." Groaned Isshin, covering his face. "What am I letting into my house?"

"An intact male cat is called a 'Tom' Dad." Karin called over her shoulder.

"Alright Kon, a few rules- No more swearing in front of the kids, no bringing ladies around the house and for goodness sake DON'T TELL ANYONE YOU'RE HERE!" Isshin snarled at him.

"Alright, alright!" Kon sighed, rolling his eyes. "Out of curiosity though- What rank was your guy Kaien?"

"Hm?" Isshin asked.

"Only that I thought only the captains and a few lieutenants ever knew about project Spearhead." Kon glanced at Isshin, arching an orange-striped brow at him. "-funny thing, having a seated officer doing routine patrols, isn't it?"

"I dunno?" Shrugged Isshin, trying to keep his shoulders from tensing up, "-He didn't actually tell me all that much about how the soul society is governed."

"Huh." Kon nodded, smirking just a bit. "Interestin' guy, this Kaien. You should tell me about him sometime!"

"KOOOOONN!" Yuzu called. "My Dollie's shoe got under the fridge!"

"Coming Sweetie!" Kon called, jumping off Isshin's shoulder to reach his skinny little cat arm under the fridge and swat the missing accessory out from under the appliance. Yuzu applauded with delight and hugged him, laughing for the first time in ages.

Isshin watched them play for a bit and sighed. He not a bad guy, this Kon. All the same- Isshin took out his phone and dialed a number.

"~Urahara Shoten, home of Karkura Town's finest Candies, Cell Phones and Card Games! I'm on sabbatical 'til the end of the month or so, so if it's an emergency, hang up and call the Kurosaki Clinic! Or die! If it's not an emergency, leave me a message with what you need and I'll hook you up when I get back! Bye!~" Urahara's voicemail recording sing-sang over the line.

"Kisuke. It's me, Isshin. You will not fucking believe what my kids found in the new house. Call me as soon as you get back."

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #Bleach #Bleach fanfic #Isshin Kurosaki #Ichigo Kurosaki #Kisuke Urahara #Kon

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ja3hwa · 8 months

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♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟏: 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐊.𝐘𝐒 ♡

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Your undead lover had finally come back from a late night hunt, finding you shivering from the winter weather. But do not fret, as he was...skilled in keeping others warm-ish.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 1.0k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Fantasy. Smut. Supernatural.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Vampire!Yeosang x Human!Reader

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Making out. Nipply play. Fingering. Wax play. Yeosang got cold ass hands.

Thank you, @senpai-of-doom, for requesting Yeosang for this day. ♡♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List

To say it was freezing was an understatement. You were curled up in a ball of blankets in front of a dying fire. And you would have gotten up if not for the warm spot you had made. Moving required opening your cocoon to the frost and you were in no way about to do that.

“My my… don’t you look warm.” A deep chuckle caught your ears, tilting your head a bit you saw a tall shadow standing by the now-opened bay window. The broad figure closed the window quicker than your voice to ask for it to be shut. It was Yeosang coming back from a late-night hunt. He and his friends as gone out despite the cold―but then again they do not feel such temperature drops like you Fae―in search of some food. Given the stains on his shirt, you’d say he found what he was after.

“I’m a literal human ice pop. There is nothing warm about me.” You grunted feeling displeasure at the change of weather. It wasn’t supposed to get this cold until the later months, so you were a little―and by that it means a lot―underprepared. Yeosang hummed, moving to the fire, picking up form of the dry wood from the rack before placing some more to begin to heat up the room. You sigh in contentment as a silent way of saying thanks which Yeosang understood.

“I would off to help keep you warm. But I’m afraid that not in my department.” He tisk, slightly irritated in himself for being undead. No heartbeat, meaning no hot blood pumping through his veins. So he was permanently cold, well until he cuddles with you. Then his coldness drifts away quite quickly. “Actually… I could help.” He sat down on the end of the couch, leaning himself forward so he was hovering over you making sure his face was inches from yours.

“You just gotta heat me up a little first.” Yeosang’s cold lips kiss your whimpering warm ones. His tongue slipped in your mouth, drawing a moan from you perfectly distracting you from his hands slowly undoing your folded blankets. Once he manages to hook his long fingers under the split he opens the fabrics abruptly showing off your bare chest. “No clothes?”

“Clothing is uncomfortable to sleep in when you are covered in so many blankets.” You had a point but Yeosang still had to laugh lightly at your words. You huffed beginning to feel the cool on your exposed skin your nipples standing tall from the frosty breeze. Yeosang's cold fingers pinched them gently sending a gasp reeling of your tongue. His cool skin felt different compared to the coldness of the weather. Like there was a hint of fire burning within. He rolled the nub under the tip of his finger, before releasing it and doing the same to the other. His free hand snaked slowly down your belly, making you feel everything shiver that his cold skin touched.

“You still cold darling?” He had the cheek to ask knowing full well that you were still feeling the freezing breeze around you, even the fire no longer helping. Before you could think of a repose that would be more the surely laced with attitude, your mind suddenly short-circuited.

“Holy shit!” You shrieked, gasping for air as you felt Yeosang’s ice-cold appendages slide between your hot folds before pushing inside your cunt. But this time instead of yelling at him, your mind was slipping into a pleasurable hazy. You were no longer annoyed with him. Not when his cold fingers were nestled snugly in your soaking pussy. It was something you’ve never felt before, having trouble in describing it, even to yourself. All you knew is that you wanted more.

“You okay baby?” his sinister grin and low chuckle made you aware he knew what he was doing. You nodded like an idiot as he started to gently curl his fingers, adding another one as he thrust slowly in and out. After a few moments of him using his fingers along with placing his icy thumb on your clit he knew you were not going to last much longer. You were enjoying the sensation, letting your moans echo around the room, while your back started arching. This was when Yeosang decided he was going to tip you over the edge.

Without taking his hand out of you he reached for one of the candles that sat on the small table in front of you both. He sped up his movement making sure you wouldn’t notice him moving around. Luckily you kept your eyes closed more focused on the feeling his fingers were gifting you. And then he dripped some hot wax over your exposed chest, catching your nipples and sensitive skin.

“Fuck!” You hissed snapping your eyes open to see the candle tilted in your lover's hands.

“What? You said you wanted to be warm.” He laughed dripping some more but this time on your tummy, making you take in a deep sharp breath. He stroked your walls and rubbed your like at a heavenly pace all the while finding new places on your naked body to drip more wax making you a moaning mess.

“S-Sangie. I’m gonna, fuuckk.”

“Damn Darling, don’t you look so pretty like this.” power rumbled in his gut making him feel a sense of authority from how your body reacted to him. You shivered while your thighs snapped shut around his arm, bucking your stuttering hips. You came so hard you nearly blacked out but Yeosang was there to draw you slowly down your high.

Well, at the end of all this. He certainly kept his promise to make you feel warmer.

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1800jjbarnes · 7 months

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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟏 : 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 ◇

【Synopsis】 : Your undead lover had finally come back from a late night hunt, finding you shivering from the winter weather. But do not fret, as he was...skilled in keeping others warm-ish.

『W.C』 : 1.0k

-> Genre: Fantasy. Smut. Supernatural.

Pairing: Vampire!Steve x Fae!Reader

[Warnings] : Making out. Nipply play. Fingering. Wax play. Steve got cold some ass hands. Teasing.

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List

“My my… don’t you look warm.” A deep chuckle caught your ears, tilting your head a bit. You saw a tall shadow standing by the now-opened bay window. The broad figure closed the window quicker than your voice to ask for it to be shut. It was Steve coming back from a late-night hunt. He and his friends had gone out despite the cold―but then again, they do not feel such temperature drops like you—Fae—in search of some food. Given the stains on his shirt, you’d say he found what he was after.

“I’m a literal Faerie ice pop. There is nothing warm about me.” You grunted feeling displeasure at the change of weather. It wasn’t supposed to get this cold until the later months, so you were a little―and by that, it means a lot―underprepared. Steve hummed, moving to the fire, picking up some of the dry wood from the rack before placing some more to begin to heat up the room. You sigh in contentment as a silent way of saying thanks, which Steve understood.

“I would offer to help keep you warm. But I’m afraid that's not in my department.” He tisk, slightly irritated in himself for being undead. No heartbeat, meaning no hot blood pumping through his veins. So he was permanently cold, well, until he cuddles with you. Then his coldness drifts away quite quickly. “Actually… I could help.” He sat down on the end of the couch, leaning himself forward so he was hovering over you, making sure his face was inches from yours.

“You just gotta heat me up a little first.” Steve's cold lips kiss your whimpering warm ones. His tongue slipped in your mouth, drawing a moan from you perfectly distracting you from his hands slowly undoing your folded blankets. Once he manages to hook his long fingers under the split, he opens the fabrics abruptly, showing off your bare chest. “No clothes?”

“Clothing is uncomfortable to sleep in when you are covered in so many blankets.” You had a point, but Steve still had to laugh lightly at your words. You huffed, beginning to feel the cool on your exposed skin, your nipples standing tall from the frosty breeze. Steve's cold fingers pinched them, gently sending a gasp reeling of your tongue. His cool skin felt different compared to the coldness of the weather. Like there was a hint of fire burning within. He rolled the nub under the tip of his finger before releasing it and doing the same to the other. His free hand snaked slowly down your belly, making you feel everything shiver that his cold skin touched.

“You still cold darling?” He had the cheek to ask, knowing full well that you were still feeling the freezing breeze around you, even the fire no longer helping. Before you could think of a repose that would be more the surely laced with attitude, your mind suddenly short-circuited.

“Holy shit!” You shrieked, gasping for air as you felt Steve's ice-cold appendages slide between your hot folds before pushing inside your cunt. But this time instead of yelling at him, your mind was slipping into a pleasurable hazy. You were no longer annoyed with him. Not when his cold fingers were nestled snugly in your soaking pussy. It was something you’ve never felt before, having trouble in describing it, even to yourself. All you knew is that you wanted more.

“You okay, Sugar?” his sinister grin and low chuckle made you aware he knew what he was doing. You nodded like an idiot as he started to curl his fingers gently, adding another one as he thrust slowly in and out. After a few moments of him using his fingers along with placing his icy thumb on your clit he knew you were not going to last much longer. You were enjoying the sensation, letting your moans echo around the room, while your back started arching. This was when Steve decided he was going to tip you over the edge.

Without taking his hand out of you, he reached for one of the candles that sat on the small table in front of you both. He sped up his movement, making sure you wouldn’t notice him moving around. Luckily, you kept your eyes closed more focused on the feeling his fingers were gifting you. And then he dripped some hot wax over your exposed chest, catching your nipples and sensitive skin.

“Fuck!” You hissed snapping your eyes open to see the candle tilted in your lover's hands.

“What? You said you wanted to be warm.” He laughed, dripping some more, but this time on your tummy, making you take in a deep, sharp breath. He stroked your walls and rubbed your like at a heavenly pace, all the while finding new places on your naked body to drip more wax, making you a moaning mess.

“S-Stevie. I’m gonna, fuuckk.”

“Damn Darling, don’t you look so pretty like this.” Power rumbled in his gut, making him feel a sense of authority from how your body reacted to him. You shivered while your thighs snapped shut around his arm, bucking your stuttering hips. You came so hard you nearly blacked out, but Steve was there to draw you slowly down your high.

Well, at the end of all this. He certainly kept his promise to make you feel warmer.

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satureja13 · 24 days

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Ji Ho's Therapy Game - Part 1

Oh! It seems Ji Ho is really Princess Jihovere! And she lives in a beautiful castle! In the princess' tower at that 🏰

She has a huge bathroom there! Anything a mermaid princess could wish for was there. Fluffy towels, scented essences and cute toys. (And it seems both, Jack and Ji Ho, have a way better ingame experience that poor Vlad ^^')

How cute Ji Ho looks :3

The Princess dressed and went up to the top of the tower to take a look around. Such a beautiful world!

Her next quest is to dine with the Queen! She's already awaiting the princess. (The dresscode in the castle seems to be mintgreen+white ^^')

Such an amazing castle! Ji Ho doesn't know where to look first! Ji Ho and Noxee hadn't much to do with each other in the past and since The Queen doesn't know Ji Ho ingame, it's even more intimidating.

Ji Ho doesn't even know if the Queen is a good or evil character. From what Ji Ho knows about fairytales is, that the Queen/Mother-in-law ist mostly evil and jealous of the younger and prettier princess ö.Ö' Maybe this therapy experience isn't as amazing as it seems? Plus: Lou mentioned that, after Prince Caleb and Princess Jihovere are married, The Queen will have to leave and Caleb will be King... Maybe marrying The Prince wasn't the challenge in this game but staying alive?

Ji Ho decided to adress it right away. This is just a game and he's determined to make good progress so he can finally dig out his buried feelings so he can love Vlad. Ji Ho: "Won't it be hard for you to retreat after Caleb becomes King?"

The Queen: "Oh my precious, don't you worry! This is just a constitutional monarchy here and we do not have any power. It's just for the show. To be honest: It's not that desireable to have the eyes of 'our subjects' on us all the time. They have more power over us than we over them ^^' Many are just lurking until we take a false step and: off the head! I can't wait to return to my own little queendom." The Queen sighed and looked a bit sad.

But soon she smiled again, the show must go on. She's a real pro. The Queen: "Let's finish our meal. There's still a lot to do before the wedding. You're from the Kingdom under the Sea and our habits are so different from yours. A lot to learn for you. We won't let you get roasted for not being an appropriate Queen for our King, right?" Ji Ho let out a nervous laugh: "Right, Your Royal Highness."

Princess Jihovere sat in the garden. It was calmingly quiet and so relaxing to just sit here in the sun, nothing was worrying him here. Ji Ho is determined to make the most of this experience and to cherish these reposeful moments after all the madness they had to go through. And who knows what lies in their future...

The Queen instructed the Princess to stitch a few loops. That's obviously still a valuable trait in the upper echolons of society here.

She was intrigued by the statue of a stunning man in the garden and decided to stich the beautiful face of him.

Princess Jihovere made good progress since Ji Ho enjoys stitching in the real world too.

The princess spent many hours in the garden stitching many loops of the beautiful statue. And she was very happy doing this. There's so much happening in their lives that they barely have time to sit down in peace and silence and create something just for the joy of it - and not to earn money. And the statue was so beautiful to look at. It had a very special (and oddly familiar) presence on Ji Ho. It was as if the statue was looking back at him. As if he wanted to tell him something. A real master of his art must have created it. And he must have had a very handsome model.

Meanwhile in the Throne Room, a very grumpy Throne Prince sat on the Throne. What's up with him? He's going to marry a beautiful princess!

From the Beginning ~ Underwater Love ~ Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

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kemetic-dreams · 11 months

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What happened to colored troops taken POW by Confederates in the Civil War?

Three-fifths of all African troops in the Union army were former slaves and those that fought in combat units did so at great risk to their lives (beyond the expected risks associated with combat). The Confederate government’s official position was that black POWs would be executed, reclaimed by their former masters or sold into slavery. Lincoln’s threats of reprisals helped minimize the impact of Confederate actions.

Details of the brutality African soldiers suffered are known, but with less specificity. We know of the multiple slaughters of surrendering or captured blacks that occurred. And, we know that armed Africans were the South’s worst nightmare as southerners were terrified that the example of these soldiers would “infect” the rest of the slave population and inspire them to take-up arms against their enslavers. In southern eyes, that alone warranted the harshest treatment for captured Africans.

What is clear is that these soldiers faced harsher and more cruel treatment at the hands of their captors than did their white counterparts. We know with clarity the physical violence that slaves suffered pre-war as well as after the war. Further, while 14% of Union prisoners died while being held as POWs and 11.8% of Confederate POWs died in northern captivity, historian Caroline Newhall notes that almost 35% of African POWs died in southern captivity. These data points converge with official Confederate statements and southern attitudes on slaves as property and provide strong evidence of the cruelty African Union soldiers faced.

Cruelty and atrocities against African Union soldiers were not random acts of war, but were legislated and directed by the Confederate Congress and Jefferson Davis himself.

In late 1862, Davis stated: “All negro slaves captured in arms be at once delivered over to the executive authorities of the respective States to which they belong.” A resolution later adopted by the Confederate Congress provided that all “negroes or mulattoes,” slave or free, taken in arms should be tried for inciting servile insurrection and be subject to the death penalty.

In a letter to General Beauregard on this issue, The Confederate Secretary of War pointed out that "Slaves in flagrant rebellion are subject to death by the laws of every slave-holding State" but that "to guard, however, against possible abuse...the order of execution should be reposed in the general commanding the special locality of the capture."

Lincoln responded to this by threatening to retaliate against Confederate prisoners whenever African soldiers were killed or enslaved.

Davis publicly denounced Lincoln’s order; but, it did have — for the most part — the desired effect, as most African prisoners were not treated with the harsh justice mandated by Confederate policy, even though the Confederacy never officially acknowledged African-Americans as P.O.W.’s. Instead, what emerged were inconsistent practices in dealing with captured African American troops, depending on the time, place and the commander into whose hands they fell. Indeed, some Confederate officers encouraged the killing of African-American soldiers rather than taking them prisoner, and the atrocities committed against surrendering African soldiers at Poison Spring, Fort Pillow and Petersburg are now well known.

If not executed, captured African soldiers often found themselves treated very differently from white prisoners. Instead of being confined to camps, many African-American prisoners were put to forced labor.

As Robert Jones, a African soldier captured at Milliken’s Bend, La., recalled, “They took me to … Rust, Tex., where they … had me at work doing every kind of work, loading steamboats, rebuilding breastworks, while I was in captivity.”

Near Fort Gilmer, Va., captured African troops were forced to work under enemy fire in the trenches. In retaliation, the Union general Benjamin F. Butler placed an equal number of Confederate P.O.W.’s on forward trenches. Within a week, the African prisoners were removed from the front lines.

The sentiment that Africans under arms aroused -- along with the ingrained hostility of many Confederate soldiers -- set the stage for wartime atrocities. The most notorious incident occurred at a small Federal outpost north of Memphis, Tennessee, where Confederate cavalrymen under Nathan Bedford Forrest attacked Fort Pillow, which was garrisoned by about 500 troops.

More than half of the soldiers were African. The superior Confederate force overwhelmed the fort's defenders; Union casualties were high. But after the Federals surrendered, Forrest's men shot and killed a number of unarmed soldiers and officers, both black and white.

In October 1864 Saltville, Virginia, Confederate soldiers executed unarmed African prisoners, even raiding a hospital on two separate occasions and murdering wounded Africans in their sickbeds.

High casualty rates in combat were also common for African American units — usually for two reasons. First, since Africans had not previously served in the military, they were inexperienced fighters. Second, feeling social pressure to prove themselves as men, they often took risks on the battlefield that their white counterparts would not.

But, despite facing intense racism and humiliating treatment from their own white colleagues in arms, Africans excelled in combat, providing an additional, critical edge in manpower to what the Union already possessed.

One Union captain explained the significance of African military participation on the attitudes of many white soldiers. "A great many [white people]," he wrote, "have the idea that the entire Negro race are vastly their inferiors. A few weeks of calm unprejudiced life here would disabuse them, I think. I have a more elevated opinion of their abilities than I ever had before. I know that many of them are vastly the superiors of those...who would condemn them to a life of brutal degradation."

Of the 180,000 African Americans who fought for the Union, 37,300 died. More than 20 African Americans were awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor, the nation's most prestigious military decoration. Fourteen of those men earned their medals at Chaffin's Farm.

#african american #african #afrakan #kemetic dreams #brownskin #afrakans #brown skin #africans #african history #african american history #medal of honor #chaffin farm #military #military history

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greynatomy · 9 months

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Right Person, Wrong Time

Trinity Rodman x Reader

This was so fun to write honestly. Thank you to @deynacastellonaswife for the request and prompt. I hope I wrote to your expectations.

Also haven’t wrote a fic with over 1,000 words in a long time so that felt nice.

If you like this, please let me know!

-grey

———

You were standing in the middle of your apartment, figuring out what you should take with you to London, and what you can get rid of. You didn’t realize how much stuff you had until it was all laid out in front of you.

You’ve received many offers from plenty NWSL teams and many abroad, but when Arsenal put in an offer, it was one you couldn’t refuse. You decided to not finish college and go straight into playing what you love. You’ve always been a fan of Arsenal, watching the likes of Leah Williamson, Caitlin Foord, Alex Scott and so much more.

You know you wouldn’t stay in London permanently because you’d be homesick and missing your family. You’d also be missing your girlfriend of two years, not being ready for long distance at all.

You were so far into your own head that you barely heard someone ringing your doorbell and knocking on your door. Opening it, you smile at the sight of your girlfriend, but it quickly disappearing after seeing tears running down her face.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” You try pulling her into your arms, but she pushes past you into your apartment. You close the door behind you and follow after her.

“I-I-I need to talk to you.”

“Okay. About what.”

“I don’t-I don’t really know how to say this, but I-I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” You try to reach out for her, only for her to pull away, hurt showing on your face.

“You’re going all the way to England and I’m staying here and I-I don’t want you to go.”

“I thought we talked about this Trin?”

“We did, but thinking about it more, I don’t want to hold you back, tie you down. You’ve always wanted to play for Arsenal.”

“You’re not tying me down babe.”

“My decision is final. Focus on your career, I’ll get drafted here and maybe we’ll still see each other sometime.”

“You won’t even talk to me while I’m there? I could be there for years. I can’t just not talk to you.”

“You’re an amazing player. You’ll do amazing there, so focus on that, don’t worry about me. Maybe we’ll come back together in the future, but now is not our time.”

“You’re sure about this?” Your bottom lip trembles, trapping it between your teeth to make it stop.

“I am.”

“You’re younger than me but so much wiser, I swear.” You can’t help but let out a small laugh, Trinity letting one out too.

“I love you and I can’t wait to see how you play with them.”

“Can I have one last kiss?”

She doesn’t reposed but grabs both sides of your head, smashing her lips to yours. You wrap your arms around her waist, holding tight, not wanting to let go.

‘Right person, wrong time’, you thought.

———

Here you are now, January 2023, in a similar situation three years before. Having packed all the essentials and must haves into boxes and suitcases and sent some off to be shipped to your new apartment.

After three years in London, playing for Arsenal, truly making a name for yourself, it was time to go back home. You’ve requested a transfer and your managers and teammates were very supportive of you.

You’ve already said your goodbyes to everyone, especially to Leah and Caitlin who’ve taken you under their wing, with lots of tears shed, you’re off to the airport for a long journey home.

———

Trinity Rodman, a star player for the Washington Spirit and the US Women’s National Team, got ready for practice like normal. But today was a little more exciting. Newly drafted and signed players are arriving for their first practice with the Spirit.

Arriving at the stadium, she went straight into the locker room to get her gear on, many of her teammates joining her. Gathering everything she needs, she heads to the field with everybody else. Their head coach, Mark, asks them all to gather around, to welcome all the new players.

“Now, we do have one more person, but she seems to be a lit—”

“—I’m here! I’m here! Sorry for being late!” You come running towards them, gear in your hands, shirt only halfway on.

Trinity froze. She hasn’t heard your voice in such a long time. She didn’t know if she should go up to you, but her body decided for her, not being able to move from her place, looking at the ground.

“Right. This is Y/n Y/ln. Wanna introduce yourself?” He gestures to you.

“Right. Uh, again, my names Y/n and I played in Arsenal and now I play here. I’m twenty-three and I’m a CM.”

“Well, good to have you here. Now let’s start practice.”

The whole practice, Trinity was distracted. She couldn’t get her foot on the ball properly, even missing some open shots. Her friends/teammates notice her distracted, but decided to talk to her after practice.

She found herself staring at you. Some times you would catch her eye, her turning away just as quickly. It was weird seeing you after all this time. It was extremely awkward too because she wanted to just be wrapped up in your arms like you did years ago.

Practice ended, Trinity rushes to the locker room grabbing her stuff and leaving, not bothering to use the showers there like she always does.

You, on the other hand, try to look for Trinity, rushing into the locker room to see if she’s still here. Unfortunately, you just missed her.

“What’s got you looking stressed?” Ashley asks you.

“Nothing. Nothing. Just probably still jet lagged or something.”

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything.”

Needing to cool down, you hop into the showers, taking a cold shower. You didn’t know what kind of reaction you could’ve gotten from Trinity after not seeing you for a long time, but it definitely wasn’t her ignoring you and practically running away from you. Quickly getting dressed, you look for Ashley.

“Hey, do you happen to know where Trinity lives?”

———

Trinity was not chilling on the couch, watching her favorite show when there was a knock on her door. She looks through the peephole, not expecting to see you standing outside. She didn’t know if she should open the door for you or not, opting to stay silent.

“Trin, come on, I know you’re there looking through the hole. Let me in, please.” You sounded so desperate for her to answer.

Giving in she opens the door, moving aside to let you in.

“What do you wanna talk about?” “Why are you ignoring me?” You both asked at the same time.

“You first.”

“Why are you ignoring me?”

“I wasn’t.”

“You practically ran away after practice. Couldn’t even catch up with you!”

“I-I didn’t know if I could still talk to you. You’ve been gone for years and it’s not the same anymore!”

“‘Cause you told me not to talk to you when I left. Said to focus on me when all I wanted was to tell you whenever some good, something great happened in my life, but you blocked me!”

“Because if I didn’t I would be calling you.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“You we’re with me. If I hear your voice and you’re not near me I’m gonna cry and I’ve cried for so long already.” Her voice breaks, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

You close the space between you and wrapped your arms around her. She tries punching and punching you away, but you hold on tighter, not wanting to let go.

“I’m not leaving you ever again, you hear me?” You voice muffled into her hair.

She finally wraps her arms around your waist, holding tight as if you’d disappear.

“Don’t leave me again.”

You gently grab her face with both of your hands, looking into her eyes. “I’m with you. I’m staying. Wherever you go, I go. You’re it for me.”

She leans her face up to yours and kisses you passionately, missing the feeling of your lips on hers.

She pulls away, mumbling into your lips, “You’re it for me too.”

Now is our time

#trinity rodman #trinity rodman x reader #woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #uswnt x reader #woso imagines #uswnt #uswnt imagines #trinity rodman imagines #woso imagine

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veronicaphoenix · 1 month

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THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR — PART VII

Pairing: samurai/ronin!noah x fem. reader | Words: 11.5k

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: tiny bit of sexual content at the beginning, fluff, subtle talks of dom/sub dynamic, mentions of bondage, torture, nightmares, anxiety, mentions of underage sexual experiences, blade to throat, death threats, blood, mentions of supernatural forces, mentions of Noah having killed people before (sorry, he's a samurai, after all), mentions of pregnancy, angst, cliffhanger at the end whoops. so many things, i'm taking this fic very seriously no joke

Author's note: okay everybody, i've done a bunch of research for this fic and I love learning about different cultures and expanding my knowledge about the world, but the entire thing is obviously historically inaccurate (not that this is exactly a historical fic but anyway), also I don't think people wore sweatpants in feudal Japan, but I can't picture Noah not wearing them, so here you go, a samurai wearing sweatpants. 🤭 I haven't done a second review to check for any last typos or mistakes, so I apologize for that.

Additional useful info: - Kami: japanese word for a deity, divinity, or spirit. - Yakuza: individual involved in criminal organizations, thought to have descended from gangs of ronin (masterless samurai) - Rei and Ren are two different people in the story. Rei we like, Ren we definitely do not like.

THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR

PART VII

Waking up to Noah’s serene form beside me felt like a blessing.

His peaceful slumber was a sight I’d seen many times in the dark, when he slept by my side and I sacrificed my own hours of rest just to watch him, knowing that with the dawn, he would be gone.

But this time, watching him held a special tranquility. His young features, usually marked by a furrowed brow, were now softened in repose, free from the burdens of worry that plagued him even in sleep.

During the night, his rest had been disturbed, his subconscious grappling with the lingering echoes of the past few days. Despite the idyllic surroundings we found ourselves in, a part of him remained tethered to the fears and uncertainties of our choices. His dreams were plagued with scenarios of what could have happened days ago, before escaping from my father’s estate. At one point, he tossed and turned so fervently in bed that he flung the sheets off his body. A thin layer of sweat covered his forehead, neck, and chest.

Now that morning had unfolded, and sunlight streamed into our modest dwelling, I found myself drawn to Noah’s profile, his beautiful lines illuminated by the gentle glow. Even while sleeping, his features exuded a captivating allure, making him look even more handsome than he already was. His shirt had shifted during the night, when he found himself trapped in a nightmare, and a glimpse of his abdomen was now revealed to me alongside the scars that marred his warrior skin. A pang of sadness washed over me at the reminder of the trials he had endured, being born into a family of Samurai where the path of battle was but an unavoidable destiny.

My eyes shifted from one ugly scar under his left pectoral to the tattoos adorning his skin.

Noah’s fascination with tattoos had always intrigued me, especially considering the strict code of the Samurai that forbade such adornments. Samurai detested tattoos. Yet, Noah had received his first one at the age of eighteen, during a chance encounter with a group of ronin on the outskirts of the estate. I remember him recounting the tale to me with a mix of trepidation and wonder, describing how he had nearly fled at the sight of the masterless samurai. Yet, he found himself drawn to their stories and the reasons why they had decided to break the Bushido code and now lived in the shadows. A ronin had been the one to ink a small dragon onto Noah’s skin, unaware that Noah would become one of them years later. As he showed the tattoo to me and I traced the red and blue lines with my fingertips, I became aware that he would have to keep it hidden. It terrified me to know what my father would do to him if he found out Noah had stained his skin.

This morning, my fingers traced the same path, sliding down gently from the head of the dragon to its ferocious tail. Noah stirred slightly beneath my touch, though he remained slightly lost in his sleep. I shot a wary glance at his face, and as soon as I saw his eyes remained closed, I moved my fingers to his navel and down, towards the line of hair that descended and disappeared under the waistband of his pants.

He whispered my name, a gentle protest.

“Stop that. It tickles,” he mumbled, his voice coarse.

His words only triggered me to continue my tracing, which made him open his eyes and, in an instant, he had flipped me onto my back, his grin infectious as he pinned me beneath him.

The unmistakable hardness of his morning erection didn’t go unnoticed to me as it pressed against my hip.

“Good morning,” I said quietly, but even with my sweet voice I couldn’t hide my intentions. Noah narrowed his gaze on me, his fingers moving a few strands of hair from my face.

“Good morning,” he replied. “Someone had a good night’s sleep, I see.”

As soon as he said that, I subtly arched my hips, seeking out some friction. Noah’s eyes darkened. With one hand on my hip, he kept me pinned to the mattress, but I was feeling feisty enough and I slid a hand down and inside his sweatpants, making my way beneath his underwear and wrapping my fingers around his hard, thick length.

Locked in a silent exchange of desire, Noah’s eyes bore into mine, a vein beginning to pulse on his neck. Just as I was poised to take things further, to pump him once, laughter from outside shattered the moment, snapping us both back to reality.

Noah immediately flipped back to his side of the bed, both slightly breathless and eager for the privacy we had momentarily lost. We turned our attention towards the balcony door, our sanctuary now breached by the intrusion of the outside world.

We had no idea what time it was, but suddenly we were very aware of the noise outside, the chatter of voices, the chirping of birds, the occasional deer call, and the distant clucking of chickens. I was momentarily disoriented.

As the chaos settled around us, a sense of clarity began to emerge.

We were far from home, —or what home had been—. We were nestled in a humble abode offered by a community we had only just discovered. Surrounded by life in all its vibrant forms, if we got lucky enough, Noah and I could dare to hope for a future together in this place. The laughter of children drifting away outside made me wish with all my might that the opportunity came to us and all the dreams I had with Noah became a reality.

Despite the realization that we still didn’t have the privacy we would like, I wanted to embrace this new reality. To wake up to the symphony of birdsong, the joyous laughter of children, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze—these simple pleasures whispered promises of a life yet to be lived.

After composing ourselves and tending to the necessities of the morning, I ventured out onto the porch, greeted by the sweet fragrance of nearby flowers and the soft caress of the morning breeze. In the distance, I spotted Rika and Milla’s children, their playful antics adding a sweet touch to the warmth of our new community.

Near the door, a package caught my eye, it’s presence a tangible reminder of the kindness that surrounded us. Attached to it was a tag bearing Rika’s name. With a grateful smile, I carried the package inside, closing the wooden doors behind me.

As Noah caught sight of me, a softness settled over his features. I could tell he was still living in the short moment we had shared in bed as we woke up.

I carefully read the note attached to the package in my hands,

“I thought these clothes might be useful for now. I hope they fit you. I used to wear them before I got pregnant with my first child. There are some from my husband that might fit Noah.

Rika.”

Surveying the contents of the package, Noah selected a pair of black trousers and a matching tunic, securing his katana at his waist with a belt of the same color as he finished getting dressed. Meanwhile, I found myself staring in awe at the array of dresses Rika had offered, each one an affirmation of her generosity and kindness.

After much deliberation, I chose a delicate white summer dress adorned with tiny blue flowers, its charm a contrast to the uncertainty of our circumstances. But as I held it in my hands and examined it, a sense of determination flooded me. I wanted this to work, and as silly as it sounded, I considered that, by wearing a cute dress, I could give it a start.

However, as I struggled with the intricate straps at the back of it, a sense of frustration took over me, and I found myself longing for the assistance of the maids back at my father’s estate.

Noah appeared behind me. In a heartbeat, his hands covered mine, his touch gentle yet confident.

“Let me,” he murmured, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet of the room as I dropped my hands.

With practiced ease, he skillfully tightened the straps and tied a knot. I held my breath, acutely aware of the precision in his touch.

His proficiency with ropes, honed through years as a samurai, carried with it a weight of history and pain that lingered beneath the surface.

I had witnessed the anguish that haunted Noah’s eyes on those nights we spent entwined beneath the covers, grappling with demons of his past. The torment of inflicting pain upon innocent prisoners that had been tied up with ropes in impossible ways weighed heavily upon him, a burden he bore with a heavy heart. And in those moments of darkness, I knew that I had to find a way to replace the agony with something else. I might not be able to make it disappear, but I could help him deal with it in a different way, build a new memory related to that bondage he was meant to perform on those people considered traitors.

The first time, many years ago when I asked him to tie me up, his horror at my proposal was obvious, and his refusal resolute and unwavering. He got very upset, and I didn’t insist any further that night. But I refused to be deterred, though, and patiently waited for the opportunity to convey the depth of my intentions and why I believed it could help him.

“I’m not asking you to hurt me,” I whispered. “I’m asking you to show me how much you’re capable of loving; to show me that by being completely at your mercy, I’m safe; that beneath the warrior lies a man of compassion and tenderness; that despite everything, you’re a man of good heart.”

It was a gradual journey, fraught with a lot of uncertainty and hesitation. But as Noah discovered the profound emotional bond that the bindings on my body provided, there was no turning back, and soon I found myself bound and completely subjected to him in bed, feeling every one of his touches more intensely than ever, every kiss he placed on every inch of my body more devoted than the last.

The restraints provided by the bindings seemed to ignite the rest of my senses, making my skin tingle and increasing my ability to feel and understand that Noah was mine and I was his. Never, not once, did I fear him. That confidence toppled the last ounce of insecurity that remained in Noah, and since then, we knew that we wouldn’t be able to live without each other.

With Noah, I found a sanctuary where submission was a choice made freely. It had nothing to do with the control that defined my life and that I hated. With Noah I could be honest, and I could submit without fear. And Noah, despite not being able to escape the expectations of his samurai heritage, despite not being able to rid himself of that part of him that yearned for control and dominance, he embraced it when I was in his arms.

When we were with each other, the dynamic was wonderful, and there was no moment when we felt more united than when I let go, surrendered to his mercy.

As I turned around and thanked him for tying the straps of the dress, I noticed that his eyes had darkened, and I understood that the same thoughts had been crossing his mind as he tied the ribbons.

“Beautiful”, he murmured, but more than a sigh, the way he pronounced the word resembled a growl.

With a sheepish smile, I tiptoed to kiss him, my hands pressed against his hard stomach, and for a moment I damned that a few more moments alone together, in that comfortable bed that had been offered to us, had been stolen.

I’d had Noah inside me a couple of days ago, but still, the ache of missing and wanting him was too potent.

Noah parted his lips to kiss me deeper, but a growl from his stomach interrupted us. A hint of embarrassment colored his cheeks as I laughed.

“I’m hungry,” he said. He traced a strand of hair that fell across my face, his fingers falling to my neck and caressing it in a tantalizing caress. “I could eat you.”

He leaned in to feign a bite at my neck, prompting me to laugh louder. I squirmed under his touch, laughing and letting out little squeals.

It wasn’t as late as we initially thought. When we left the house, traces of dew still lingered on the plants, and some moisture collected on the stone paths.

We walked to the main dining hall, warmly greeting the people who recognized us from the previous day, exchanging good mornings with a wave of the hand or a polite nod. In the dining hall, much like the night before, there weren’t many people, but the same woman who served me dinner the previous night was there, delighted to see me in good spirits and well accompanied. Noah and I had breakfast in silence, occasionally glancing around, absorbing the details of the place and familiarizing ourselves with the community’s routine. The woman serving the food assured us we could eat as much as we wanted, gesturing with her arms to indicate the abundance of fresh fruit baskets, cereals, and other hot delicacies piled up on a long table at the opposite end of the hall.

I was finishing a cup of hot tea when an elderly couple, around eighty, perhaps,, approached us very slowly, delicate smiles on their wrinkled faces. I exchanged a cautious glance with Noah, unsure how to greet them, whether we should stand up, or if we should stop eating. As soon as Noah made a move to rise from the bench, the woman gestured with her hand and shook her head, then gave him a couple of gentle pats on the shoulder. The encounter didn’t go beyond that.

Not long after, when Rika appeared on the porch leading to the dining hall, she informed us that they were the oldest couple in the community, residing at the top of the hill at the back end of the village, just behind the temple we had seen upon our arrival the day before. They were very quiet and reserved people, and being older, their community tasks had already ceased, and now they spent their time strolling around the village, helping just in whatever way they could and warding off evil spirits.

“They are very wise people,” Rika told us. “If you ever need advice or help, you’ll likely find them at the temple. They take care of keeping it clean and orderly, and often perform rituals for the well-being of the community.”

We were leaning on the veranda of the porch when Rei, the man who’d led us into the village the day before, approached. He greeted Noah warmly and apologized to me for not including me in his tour yesterday, to which I replied that it hadn’t mattered and that I appreciated their concern for me and letting me rest.

I hadn’t finished talking when a gentle brush against my thigh through the porch bars drew my attention, and as I turned around, I was met with the sight of a curious deer lingering near the porch. Its innocent gaze and delicate features captivated me instantly, and unable to resist it, I walked off the porch and onto the stone path, approaching the creature with a mixture of fascination and wonder.

As if sensing my presence, the deer remained still, showing a genuine trust toward me that warmed my heart. Noah, Rei, and Rika observed from the porch.

“They’re quite friendly,” Rika said, her voice carrying a sense of tranquility that matched the peaceful surroundings. “The children love playing with them.”

Indeed, as soon as a group of children noticed me petting the deer, they joined in, their laughter filling the air as they frolicked alongside the gentle creature. It was a scene of pure joy and innocence, a stark contrast to the hardships Noah and I had faced in recent days. It was hard to believe two days ago we had been sleeping in an abandoned and ruined cottage in the middle of nowhere, with barely any food nor water.

As the children gathered around, their eyes wide with wonder, I knelt down beside them, the soft breeze carrying the scent of pine and earth.

“Did you know that deer shed their antlers every year?” I began to explain, my voice soft yet animated. “They use them for protection and to attract mates.”

The children listened intently, their fascination evident as they hung onto my every word. I had always been fascinated by animals, my knowledge about them being nurtured by years of education and exploration. Close to my father’s estate there was a deer sanctuary, a haven where Noah and I met each other on numerous occasions, allowing the creatures to bear witness to the blossoming of our love. “Really?” one of the children exclaimed, their curiosity piqued. He must have been four or five. His cheeks were full and his eyes a sweet light brown. “So, does that mean they have new antlers every year?”

I nodded, delighted by their enthusiasm to learn. “That’s right! In the spring, new antlers start to grow, covered in a soft, fuzzy layer called velvet. And as they grow, they become stronger and more durable.”

The children exchanged excited whispers among themselves, their eyes shining.

Rika watched from the porch, her eyes twinkling with pride at the scene unfolding before her.

“You’re wonderful with children,” she noticed.

I glanced up at her, and just uttered a simple “thank you”, not knowing what else to say to that. When my eyes diverted to Noah, I caught his gaze fixed on me with a newfound intensity. It was as if a sudden realization had dawned on him, a silent acknowledgment of the future we might share together.

Before he said anything, Rei interjected, “It’s very hard to keep them still these days. The children, I mean. All they want to do is run around,” he said. “You seem to have a knack for handling them,” he remarked, his tone gentle yet inquisitive, and then, “Noah told me you’re very skilled at archery.”

“A little,” I replied, somewhat confused at the change of topics.

“She’s very good,” Noah corrected, emphasizing his words with a nod of his head, his words flooding my mind with images from the time I showed Noah my skills and he had been shockingly impressed. I had been sixteen at the time, and I had been able to shoot a 25lb light bow straight into my aiming point at a distance of ten yards.

“My father wanted me to train in the art of archery from a young age,” I explained, with a hint of bitterness in my voice. Talking about my father would always put me on edge after the events that had just transpired.

“You could continue your training here, or if you prefer, you could teach the children,” Rei suggested as the deer at my side fed on some grass growing between the stones. “It would be nice to have someone else to instruct them. The current instructor is getting too old for it.”

“Oh. Um—I don’t know,” I was not expecting such proposal less than twenty-four hours since we’d set foot on this place. “I’d have to think about it. I don’t think I’m good enough for that.”

But Noah’s raised eyebrow told me I didn’t have to be so modest.

Rei continued, “I think they would benefit greatly from your experience and guidance.”

“It would be great,” Rika added. “My husband has always wanted our son to learn how to use the bow.”

Rei insisted, his voice soft but filled with conviction, “the children of our community are always eager to learn new skills. I can’t help but think that, if you’re as good as Noah says, your expertise in archery would be a valuable asset to them, honestly.”

His words sparked a flicker of excitement within me, “You really think so?” I asked, apprehensive.

“Absolutely,” he affirmed, his voice steady and sure. “If you have a gift, the children would be lucky to learn from you.”

But alongside the thrill of possibility, a wave of self-doubt came my way, threatening to extinguish the flame of enthusiasm. What if I wasn’t good enough? What if I failed to inspire the children, or worse, disappointed them? I had never really spent that much time around children, much less teaching them something. Archery was a challenge, far from a simple task. It demanded perseverance through frustration, disappointments, and physical exhaustion.

But as I looked up at Noah again, I saw his unwavering faith in me reflected in the depths of his brown eyes. I found the courage to push aside my doubts and embrace the opportunity before me. With a determined nod, I made up my mind to seize the moment and trust in the strength of my own abilities.

The idea was certainly appealing, and teaching archery to the children would not only allow me to share my skills but also contribute to the community in a meaningful way, something totally different from the future that had waited for me at Ren’s estate if I had married him…

“Well, I... think I would like that,” I concluded.

As we continued our conversation, Rei proceeded to explain in detail how the community worked to sustain itself. Each member contributed in their own way, whether it was teaching skills like archery, gardening, tending to the harvest, fishing, construction, preparing food, or other subjects more related to history, mathematics, and literature. It was a system built on mutual support and cooperation, where everyone played a vital role in ensuring the community thrived.

Rika, sensing her duties calling, excused herself with a warm smile, suggesting that Noah and I explore the town market later. “It’s a lovely place and not far from here,” she added before walking away towards the northwest side of the village. “You can buy anything you need there.”

Following Rei’s lead, we made our way to the Samurai training grounds, where he proudly showed us the disciplined regimen of the warriors just as he had showed to Noah the day before. The purpose of teaching combat wasn’t the same as the one imposed to those born into a Samurai lineage like Noah. While Noah and his kin were bound by duty to bow to authority and dedicate their lives to the service of war, the kids and youngsters that engaged in combat training here at this place did it with the aim of cultivating their physical strength, honing mental discipline, and equipping themselves with skills needed for self-defense, should the need arise. It was a practice rooted in self-reliance and empowerment, rather than obligation and allegiance.

Next to the training grounds, the archery training fields awaited.

Arriving there, I was met with a breathtaking panorama of lush greenery stretching out before me, the distant mountains standing sentinel against the azure sky.

A its center, there was a row of sturdy wooden targets, each with rings painted in red. Along the periphery, racks of polished bows stood in neat rows, the curves catching the sunlight, and nearby, quivers waited with arrows arranged next to them.

It was truly a wonderful place, even though my momentary admiration was broken by Rei’s next words.

“Why don’t you show us what you can do?”

I frowned.

“What?” Immediately, I shook my head. “No. No, I don’t—I don’t think I’m dressed appropriately,” I confessed, feeling a pang of self-consciousness as I looked down at my dress.

“I’ve seen you shoot while dressed in much less appropriate attire,” Noah teased gently, his eyes twinkling.

It took him less than a sentence to convince me to do anything.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, my eyes fixed on the bows. I examined them until I choose one that seemed the most appropriate for my height and the length of my arms. My fingers trembled slightly as they closed around the familiar weight of the bow. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around me fading into insignificance as I prepared myself and focused all my attention on one of the targets ahead.

With a silent prayer on my lips, I drew back the bowstring, feeling the tension build in my muscles with eachsecond. And then, with a swift release, I let the arrow fly, watching with bated breath as it soared through the air with deadly accuracy.

The moment seemed to stretch into eternity, the world holding its breath as the arrow found its mark with a satisfying thud. A rush of exhilaration surged through me, filling every fiber of my being with a sense of triumph and accomplishment.

Turning to face Rei and Noah, I was met with looks of awe and admiration, Noah’s eyes shining with pride as Rei’s watched me with respect. Not even my mother had ever shown so much pride and gratefulness in her daughter.

“Noah was right. You do possess a remarkable talent,” Rei acknowledged. “The children will undoubtedly benefit greatly from the opportunity to learn from you.”

“I would be honored to teach them,” I replied, my voice filled with determination and a new sense of purpose.

As the soft hues of a sunny morning painted shadows around us, Noah and I set out on our journey towards the nearby town, hand in hand, our footsteps light upon the forest path. The air was alive with the symphony of nature, the gentle rustle of leaves and the sweet delicacy of a birdsong.

It was the first time we walked with my hand clutched in his as two people who were free, although a part of me still felt reluctant. I was so used to the ingrained fear that holding Noah’s hand was a crime that even after deciding to go against all the rules of our society, I couldn’t entirely erase the lingering apprehension. I couldn’t shake the feeling that at some point someone would show up, point us out, and make us pay for the “crime” of falling in love.

I was aware that Noah was also grappling with similar anxieties, although he had always been more adept at concealing his fears and worries, of course.

My thoughts were confirmed when, instead of reveling in the liberation of the moment, he diverted our attention to something he had forgotten to mention the night before.

In the backpack my grandmother had given us, at the bottom of it, Noah had found another packet containing a handful of coins and bills. Enough money to get us out of harm’s way for a while longer.

With everything that had happened to us in the last three days, I hadn’t even stopped to think about money. For me, it had never been a problem, but by deciding to run away with Noah, I had also decided to forsake a life of luxury in the castles of the royal families, the fortune that would fall into my hands just for being the daughter of a Shogun, or the inheritance that would be left in my name once my parents were no longer here. Noah and I had nothing. No coins to our name, no possessions but the clothes on our backs. It was a cold reminder of the consequences of our impulsive actions —a samurai and a princess reduced to fugitives, stripped of all the wealth and status that had once defined us.

That just showed how little I cared about money. Still, Noah managed to alleviate some of my unease with the news that at least we had something on our hands, which led me to realize that, in the excitement of setting out to explore the town, I hadn’t thought to take my grandfather’s katana. When I mentioned it to Noah, telling him that I suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed considering we were still being searched for by my father’s army, he made us stop and forced me to look deep into his eyes as he held my face in his calloused hands.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to carry a weapon with you at all times,” he said. “Maybe you should have taken it today, in case you were going out alone, but you’re not. You’re with me. Nothing is going to happen, and I’ll make sure that from now on, you won’t feel the need to be armed whenever you decide to go somewhere.”

That was sweet, the way he implied that he would give me a life of freedom and absent of fear, but they didn’t entirely dispel my anxiety.

“I’ve got mine,” he said as he noted my angst not subsiding, his thumbs caressing the curve of my cheeks. “I’ll keep us safe, don’t worry.”

Attempting to reassure him more than myself, I nodded, forcing a small smile.

As I started to resume our walk, Noah’s hand clasped my wrist, halting me in place. When I looked up at him, I noticed a special glint in his eyes.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I’m aware I told you how beautiful you are mere hours ago,” he began, his voice a quiet whisper in the forest. The way he was looking at me was tender and adoring, the touch of his touch around my wrist a soothing, honeyed sensation. “But there’s something…” he cleared his throat. “I’ve always wanted to tell you how pretty you look in these dresses,” he continued, more confidence in his voice this time. “Whenever I saw you around your father’s gardens, I was… mesmerized. But I couldn’t say anything.” For obvious reasons. “You look pretty. I just wanted you to know.”

I blushed, but despite the embarrassment I was able to stand on my tiptoes and give him a soft kiss, cupping his cheek in one of my hands.

In about twenty minutes, we caught sight of the first houses that comprised the town. Nestled in the center of the picturesque valley, the town was flanked by towering mountains and crisscrossed by a river, likely the same one Noah and I had followed on our journey.

At the entrance to the town, a stone structure welcomed us, shaped by two vertical pillar and two horizontal crossbeams.

Venturing further, excitement flowing through me as I held tightly onto Noah’s hand, we found ourselves amidst a bustling scene. The narrow main street bustled with activity as locals and visitors alike moved briskly, carrying bags of provisions and exchanging lively greetings.

The air was alive with the aromas of freshly baked bread and simmering rice, wafting from tiny eateries just beginning to open their doors. Though being daytime, lanterns overhead cast a warm glow and added illumination to the cobblestone path below our feet.

As we strolled along, I was captivated by the sights and sounds that surrounded us. Quaint tea houses adorned with cherry blossoms stood alongside market stalls offering an array of treasures.

I pulled Noah to a stop when we came across a group of street performers.

Dressed in elegant kimonos and covered in vibrant colors, a pair of dancers performed a kabuki-inspired dance, bringing to life ancient tales of heroism and love while a skilled percussionist put on display a performance of taiko drumming on massive drums. The music filled the street with thunderous rhythms that reverberated through the crowd. We watched, enthralled. By the time they reached the heart of their act, Noah’s arms had slid around my waist from behind, and I swayed a little with my back pressed against his chest, my hands resting on top of his over my stomach.And as the final notes of music faded into the air, we were left with a profound desire to belong to this place.

Even when the crowd started to dissipate, I remained tucked in Noah’s arms, feeling a bittersweet feeling inside of me. I could like it here. I could love it. I was already mesmerized by it all, but the reminder that this what at the cost of my parents put a heaviness in my chest that every once in a while made it difficult to breath.

As always, so perceptive, Noah pressed a kiss to my hair, prompting me to close my eyes and relish the feeling of being there with him, surrounded by people that accepted our love, that allowed us to be.

Thankfully, the crowd surrounding me serves as a reminder to keep me anchored in the present moment. My life didn’t belong to my parents, and life was not meant to be perfect, either. I could have paradise at a certain cost, and I would take it. I would take this which was standing in front of me, around me, right now.

With Noah encouraging us to keep exploring, we stumbled upon a small gathering of locals at a fork in the street, huddled together in animated conversation. They were whispering legends that seemed to dance upon the breeze and that kept children and adults spellbounded by the narratives.

An old man, his face weathered by years of wisdom, was regaling locals and visitors with tales of ancient warriors and mythical beasts, his voice rising and falling like the ebb and flow of a tide. As he spoke, Noah and I listened and exchanged knowing glances. These tales had been our companions in the quiet of bedtime as children and had accompanied us through our teenage years, intertwined with the poetry and literature of our respective educations.

As the day wore on and the rumble of hunger coming from my stomach elicited a playful comment from Noah this time, we sought out the nearest food stall, its colorful banners and fragrant spices alluring us closer. We approached the stall with hunger, our mouths watering at the tantalizing aroma that wafted through the air.

Noah’s eyes danced with excitement as he perused the selection of dishes on display, his adventurous spirit evident as he selected a variety of savory skewers and steaming dumplings.

“What would you like to have?” he asked.

“There’s so much to choose from,” I replied, my eyes darting from one plate to another. “Everything looks delicious.”

Noah engaged the vendor, asking about a few specific delicacies before making our selections.

“Would you like to try these? They’ve just been made and are still warm,” the vendor offered, gesturing to a plate of unfamiliar bites.

“Sure,” I agreed, accepting the bite from Noah’s fingers. His act of feeding me felt intimate and sweet, and elicited a smile I couldn’t shake as I chewed, my gaze locked on his until his laughter broke the spell.

“What?” I asked, my mouth still full.

“You look like a hamster,” he teased, his eyes alight with amusement. When he attempted to pinch my cheeks, I punched him playfully on the shoulder before covering my mouth with my hand.

But as I swallowed and tried to avoid his excited expression, I was overwhelmed by a sense of completeness. I had never seen Noah like this, so carefree, so happy. I wanted him like this forever. I would take the good and the bad, but I didn’t want anyone to take this happiness from him.

I vowed to protect this happiness at all costs.

As the taste settled in, an unexpected sharp sting spread across my tongue.

“Gods, this is so spicy!” I exclaimed, feeling the heat intensify.

The vendor let out a little laugh at my reaction. Noah observed my cheeks tinging red, and without letting his amusement fade, he asked the vendor for a glass of water, which the man quickly offered to me.

After my tongue found some relief and I insisted on avoiding further adventurous bites, Noah and I retreated to a quiet corner to enjoy our meal. Our conversation was light-hearted, focused on the scene unfolding around us and the animate characters populating the market street. We didn’t discuss the situation we were still in for we didn’t want to break the spell of this merry morning.

A while later, hand in hand and with contented stomachs, we continued to wander through the streets, our hearts buoyant and our spirits lifted by the vibrant energy around. We marveled at the myriad of wonders on display. I couldn’t resist stealing a glance at the elegant dresses adorning one of the stalls, which caught the sunlight and seemed to be calling out to me.

Ever so attentive to my desires, Noah noticed my gaze and suggested we take a closer look. I was initially hesitant, for the notion of indulging in something as frivolous as a dress seemed quite selfish from my part. But Noah gently took my hand in his and told me that it was perfectly acceptable to indulge in a little luxury now and then, that I deserved it, and that seeing me happy was all he desired.

Already feeling content simply walking beside him, hand in hand and basking in his love, I relented, allowing myself to be swept away by the beauty of the exquisite garments on display. I explored the racks of dresses with Noah following my steps. Each dress was more enchanting than the last, and Noah offered his candid opinion and commented on which colors seemed to complement me best, which I found quite adorable. Who would have thought that a Samurai could be so dept at navigating the world of fashion?

Lost in the array of fabrics and colors, my moment of indulgence was suddenly interrupted by the unexpected appearance of Kenzo, Rika’s husband. Spotting us from a distance, he called out our names, drawing our attention away from the dresses and back to the street.

With a friendly salute, Kenzo greeted us, mentioning that he had just finished selling some rice to the vendors from the nearby stalls while his brother remained in the fields. Curious about our impressions of the town, he inquired about our experience so far, prompting me to gush with cheerful comments about the warmth of the people and the beauty of the place.

Everything felt so delightful. Such mundane tasks as shopping for food and clothes were luxuries that I had seldom enjoyed during my time at my father’s estate, which made this experience all the more special for me.

“I can’t help but notice that my clothes fit you well,” he pointed out, looking at Noah’s outfit.

“Yeah, thank you. I’ll make sure to get something else today so that we don’t have to keep borrowing clothes,” Noah replied humbly. No hint of embarrassment. I guess he didn’t care, truly.

“Do not worry too much about it. The dress looks good on you, too,” he said to me. “I hadn’t seen Rika wearing that dress since she got pregnant.” At the mention, his eyes showed a glimpse of a fond memory, maybe his wife, round with their child in her tummy. “It’s nice to see that we can still give use to things we don’t need anymore.”

“All the dresses were so pretty,” I said, running my fingers over the delicate fabric of the skirt, admiring its design.

“She’s got another lot from when she was pregnant. We’re not considering having another baby for a while now, but if you do, do not hesitate to ask her. I’m sure she’ll be elated to borrow you some clothes if you like them. Otherwise, there is a shop down the street, on the left, that only sells clothes for pregnant women.”

While his offer was undoubtedly kind, his remarks about pregnancy and babies only served to exacerbate my internal turmoil. The prospect of starting a family with Noah had crossed my mind on occasion, the image of Noah holding our tiny baby in his long arms, tucking him or her against his chest… I had entertained the thought a few times, but it was a topic I wasn’t ready to confront fully yet. It felt daunting considering the tumultuous world we were living in at the moment. Motherhood could wait for a more opportune moment, when our hearts and minds were truly ready.

Just as Kenzo was pointing towards the location of said maternity shop, the three of us realized the air was crackling with tension nearby. A commotion was growing, the voices of angry merchants rising in protest over some disputed deal. Noah exchanged a concerned glance with me, then touched Kenzo’s shoulder.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Noah said.

“Not at all,” Kenzo agreed.

“Mind if we go and see if we can help defuse the situation?” Noah suggested before starting to leave the clothing stall.

“No, sure. Let’s go, see if we can be of any help,” was Kenzo’s answer.

“You stay here,” Noah said to me, extending his arm to grab my hand and give it a gentle squeeze while he smiled a little. “Get a dress you like. I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Okay, just be safe,” I told him.

“I will,” he nodded.

With my heart a little heavy, I released his hand reluctantly and let Noah fade into the crowd, followed by Kenzo. They hurried off towards the source of disturbance, to which I didn’t really pay much attention. I had enough to worry about, and I knew that whatever was going on, would get settled soon, with Noah and Kenzo’s help.

I let myself be dragged on by the energy of the other people around me, also checking clothes and buying food in the nearby stalls.

As I stood amidst the colorful dresses, I tried to push aside the worry gnawing at my insides and immerse myself in the moment. I touched the fabrics, marveled at the craftsmanship and attention poured to the details in the designs. Each garment was a work of art in its own right.

The vendor, a kindly old woman with a warm smile and twinkling eyes, noticed my interest and approached with a gentle curiosity. With a nod of greeting, she began to share stories of the dresses – their origins, the traditions behind their designs, and the meaning woven into every stitch. Her words were like music to my ears, soothing my troubled mind and drawing me deeper into the enchanting world of the shop.

But just as I began to relax into the moment, a strange presence abruptly stopped just behind me, and a chill swept over me, sending shivers down my spine.

Instinctively, I tensed, my senses on high alert.

A body pressed against mine threateningly.

The heat pressing against my back lacked the comforting warmth I felt when Noah was near. My heart raced, and I found myself frozen for a few seconds, staring straight ahead, eyes wide open, my hand still gripping the side of the dress I had contemplated buying.

Around me, people bustled about, occupied with their tasks, chatting with their neighbors and friends as they held shopping bags and carried boxes of produce. As my eyes scanned the crowd panickily, I couldn’t spot Noah. The commotion at the end of the street seemed to have magnified and I couldn’t get a glimpse of his tall frame.

Even amidst the busy street, fear enveloped me.

I had no weapons with me, and Noah didn’t know I was in danger. There was no possible way I could tell him that he was, too.

I was on the verge of screaming when the voice behind me said, “Dare to utter a sound, and I assure you the blade of the knife I’m holding against your side will pierce your skin, deep enough to stain the pretty dress you’re wearing. No one will be able to do anything to stop it, not even Noah. So listen to me: turn around and walk to the alley on the right, and keep going until the end. Don’t stop, and don’t even think about running or screaming for your hapless Ronin to come to your rescue. Understood?”

I didn’t reply, my blood turning cold as my thoughts raced. If I could just be quick enough to grab something sharp from the stall and turn around to attack him first…

The tip of his blade pressed against my side, and a twinge of pain shot through me. I knew the dress was torn, just as I knew there was nothing I could do.

The lovely vendor that had entertained me minutes ago was now engrossed in serving with another customer, her back turned to me. A lump formed in my throat as I swallowed, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Behind me, the voice sliced through the air as it uttered my name, a dangerous warning dripping from his tone. His wasn’t a familiar voice, but I knew it well enough to know who it belonged to.

“Understood?” He demanded.

“Understood,” I replied in a low voice, barely audible over the clamor of the shopping street.

“Good. Move.”

I turned around, the figure behind me following the same steps, not letting me see his face just yet.

I turned the corner of the first alley and walked with the tip of the blade pressed to my side, still threatening to slice through my skin. The sounds of the crowd faded away. It wasn’t until we reached a secluded corner, the damp stones beneath our feet and the sun struggling to penetrate the narrow passageway, that the tension seemed to ease if only just a little.

I cautiously took two steps away from the figure behind me, and then, I turned to face him.

“Ren,” I said, my voice steady despite the unease that gnawed at me.

Ren looked just as he had three days ago, when my father had expected Noah to take his own life. Ren wore the same attire, only now it was marred by mud and grime. Fatigue etched lines on his face, and beneath the weariness, simmered an unmistakable anger.

“Look at you,” he sneered. “All dolled up and parading through the streets as if you hadn’t tarnished your family’s name and fled with a man who’s lost his honor.”

I ignored his comment. I focused on maintaining my composure, swallowing down my fear. If I could keep Ren talking, perhaps Noah would find me before any harm befell me.

“How did you find us?” I inquired, my gaze steady.

“Did you truly think I would grant you the same courtesy as your father and allow you a twenty-four-hour head start to run away with that wretch of a man?” His words cut through the air like a blade, each one laced with venomous resentment.

“Don’t talk like that about Noah,” I shot back, my voice trembling now with defiance.

“I do because that’s what he is—if anything. He took you away from your parents, from your duty as the daughter of the Shogun. From me,” he retorted bitterly.

“He didn’t take me away,” much less from you, I wanted to say. “It was my choice,” I countered with a rough edge in my voice that betrayed my growing anxiety. “I left because I was not happy with the future that had been decided for me.”

Ren scoffed. “No one is happy with their future, but we take it nonetheless and fulfill our duties.”

“And you don’t think that maybe things should change? That people should be allowed to choose their fate?”

“This is not a fantasy tale,” he retorted, mentioning my name at the end, and piercing me with his cold gaze. “You had responsibilities in your hands, and you dropped them the moment that pathetic excuse of a man got between your legs. Am I wrong?”

I contained the urge to slap him as my cheeks burned.

“You are wrong,” I said sharply, my chest raising. I wouldn’t let him see my vulnerability. “But entertain me” I continued. “According to me, my responsibilities were that I made sure to choose wisely so that I could secure a future built on happiness, love, and power. Isn’t that what all those tales they tell us as kids say? If you are so sure I did wrong, tell me what my responsibilities were. Tell me how I should have done things.”

I knew. He didn’t have to say. He didn’t have to enumerate them.

I knew them fucking well.

But I needed time. I wasn’t certain what Ren was capable of, but the recent threat he imposed on me had sounded all too genuine, and I had a feeling that he would dare to hurt me if as a result he could take me back to my father, even if it was by force.

“Your family is one of the most powerful ones of the province. You are the only daughter of the Shogun, the only heiress to his position and inheritance. You had to respect the order of things, follow your parents’ steps, and marry me.”

I never really like Ren. It wasn’t merely his current presence that fueled my distaste, but rather his embodiment of the quintessential royal archetype—obedient to tradition, entitled, and expecting the world to kneel at his feed and fulfill him with whatever need he had. Ren’s life had been scripted from birth, with every detail set up prior to his arrival. He’d had nothing to worry about. I supposed he had already assumed that I would be his wife one day, merging our families’ legacies to consolidate power across the peninsula. Yet, all those presumptions shattered when I confronted my father and threatened him with his own sword in front of his army while also forcing Ren to return Noah his katana. I had put him to shame in front of the entire province, veneering him of any privilege and igniting a flame of resentment inside of him that he wouldn’t let go.

I had never found him interesting, either. The times we were forced to meet in my father’s estate or in his, there had never been any connection, not even one that would give way to friendship. It’s also to be considered that by the time I met him for the first time, I was already head over heels in love with Noah. In fact, the first time Ren and I were introduced to each other had been the day after Noah and I had had one of our first sexual experiences. We were still teenagers. We hadn’t slept together, but we had touched each other, our hands exploring those unfamiliar nooks and crannies of the opposite anatomy, attentive to the little noises the other made and the expressions of pleasure that crossed our faces each time we caressed a special place. I had almost died of embarrassment when Ren greeted me, looking at me with that expression that said, “I’ll be the first”, having no idea that he no longer had anything to do. I was still a virgin, but Noah had already touched me, and I wouldn’t let any man other than Noah get his hands on me. Noah would be the first, and the last.

And I was going to keep it that way.

I felt sorry for Ren, truly, but this was a battle he couldn’t hope to win. I’d sooner face death than live without Noah. It was a truth I’d held steadfast in my mind and heart for as long as I could remember. I would be with Noah, or I just wouldn’t be. I would marry him, or no one else. I would give birth to children that bore the same eye-shape as his and his smile, or I wouldn’t have any.

“We would have never been happy together,” I said, keeping it simple and practical. I didn’t hold much hope for Ren to understand. Perhaps he believed that happiness was a collective responsibility, one that could be achieved with work and effort, one that could be built the same way you build a house. Or maybe he simply believed that women were not worthy of finding happiness the way I did, by crossing paths with a soldier in her father’s gardens when we were just kids. Of course Ren would have been happy with me, or at least pleased in a way. But I would definitely not have been. Would he have cared? I would never know.

“Happiness can be attained if you work for it,” was his reply, affirming my suspicions. His ideas aligned with the conventional wisdom: first, you get married, then you toil tirelessly in pursuit of happiness, with no guarantee of success.

“I don’t believe that’s how happiness is supposed to work,” I replied firmly. “I found happiness without searching for it, I seized it and held on tight,” I told him, referring to Noah. I didn’t have to specify because he already knew.

“You cannot be referring to that miserable ronin. Do you truly think someone like him is capable of providing happiness?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” I maintained my composure, refusing to be rattled by Ren’s palpable disdain for Noah. “Just because he was born and raised as a Samurai, meant to serve a master, does not mean he lacks the capacity to feel or to please others as he served my father for years, earning his trust as his finest swordsman. You have a misguided perception, Ren, and you’re making a mistake by being here. Noah will notice my absence. He will find us, and I don’t want to witness what he will do to you when he does.”

His eyes widened as the weight of my warning sank in.

“No,” he retorted, brandishing the dagger and closing the distance between us. His katana was secured at his waist, and I could see his other hand hovering close in case he needed it. “You have made a terrible mistake. You’ve forsaken your life as the Shogun’s daughter for someone who is way below your status. Your future was already written, and you decided to burn down the vellum. What does he have to offer you? He had nothing, and now he isnothing. He’s abandoned the Bushido Code. He’s a ronin now, and he might end up joining the Yakuza. If he betrayed the kingdom, he could betray you.”

“He won’t,” I said as a matter of fact. “Noah did not choose me for what I had or for my status. He chose me for the things I decided to give him myself—my heart. That’s the only thing I have to offer to him now. I am no longer a princess. I have no wealth in my hands. I only have uncertainty about my future. And yet, Noah still wants me. I know this is difficult for you to accept, Ren, and it was never truly my intention to hurt you, but I’ve been in love with Noah since I was a little girl. He was my first love, and he will be my last.”

Rage was pouring from him now. It was evident on his eyes, in his expression, in the taut muscles of his body and the veins pulsating in his neck and forehead. His black hair was in disarray from the days he must have endured away from his family’s estate, too.

In one single step, he bridged the gap that separated us. His hand tangled in my hair, wrenching my head back sharply, eliciting a gasp from me as the blade’s edge pressed against my neck, stinging.

“Do not speak another word. Whatever he’s done to you, whatever lies he’s spun to persuade you, you are wrong, and someone needs to bring you back down to earth, princess.”

“Ren…” I began to plead, but he cut me off forcefully.

“No! He’s doomed but you still have a chance. Return with me to the Shogun’s castle. Marry me, bear my children, and give an heir to secure the future of your father’s dynasty.”

The realization of his intentions suddenly terrified me. I had always known, deep down, that this was the expectation placed upon royal women. It was the destiny that had been laid out for me. The same one it would be laid out for my daughter. But hearing it articulated so callously, reducing me to a mere vessel for producing heirs, filled me with dread, chilling me to the bone.

“Ren, you’re hurting me,” I managed to say. Both physically and emotionally. Fear coursed through me. If Noah didn’t find me soon, I would start screaming, consequences be damned.

“And you think you didn’t hurt me? Or your parents? You think you’re the only one entitled to your pain?” His grip tightened. “You might have run away with that disgraceful man, but you still have a princess complex inside of you. You’re greedy and selfish, and if that bastard hasn’t realized it yet, he will soon.”

“I hope so, because she fucking deserves to be selfish.”

Noah’s voice cut through the tension like a lifeline, an antidote to cure the poison in my body.

And then, everything happened in a blur.

Ren was forcefully yanked away from me, the blade grazing my skin as Noah’s strength pulled him back with such intensity that he stumbled, gasping for air. Noah’s grip on Ren’s tunic tightened around his neck, momentarily choking him.

Ren had clearly underestimated Noah. He had foolishly believed that Noah wouldn’t notice I was gone, that he wouldn’t panic the moment he couldn’t find me among the stalls, wouldn’t suspect that something had gone wrong.

But Noah wasn’t a fucking prince with a misguided sense of superiority. He was a Samurai—resourceful, cunning, and relentless. He would stop at nothing to find me, no matter where I was.

Ren was just wrong about Noah in every possible way.

And now he was going to pay for it.

In a second, Noah had unsheathed his katana, the gleaming blade immediately touching Ren’s throat. Reflexively, Ren extended his own sword towards Noah, the dagger now discarded on the ground.

“Drop it,” Noah commanded, not an ounce concerned about having another sword pointed at him, “before I slit your throat and drag you to the forest so that the wolves can feast on you.”

“I’m not afraid of you, ronin,” Ren retorted, but the fear in his eyes betrayed his bravado. I could see it just the same as Noah.

This was not even a battle, and yet, Ren had already lost.

“You will be when I start cutting every finger that has touched her. I won’t repeat myself. Drop your fucking weapon.”

It took only seconds. My hands had stopped trembling the moment Noah appeared. Now, it was Ren’s hands that shook as he released his katana, his shoulders sagging in resignation as the sound of the blade meeting the ground reverberated in the air. I watched as he struggled to maintain his composure, suppressing the indignation of once again having to bow to a Samurai’s—or rather, a ronin’s— will.

“If she’s harmed in any physical way, you will pay with your own flesh. If she’s not, you will pay either way.”

After his threat, there was a heavy pause. None of us said anything until Noah, never once averting his gaze from Ren, called my name.

“Are you hurt?”

Perhaps Ren didn’t catch it, or perhaps he lacked the ability to decipher the nuances in Noah’s voice as I did. But I heard it—the subtle tremor, the fear.

Noah was scared.

Bringing my fingers to my neck, I located the spot where Ren’s blade had pressed, and my breath caught when I felt the dampness coating my fingertips. Looking down, I found them stained with blood. Not much, but enough to awaken the beast within Noah.

“I’m bleeding.”

In an instant, Noah’s movements blurred with precision and controlled fury. The punishing blow to Ren’s liver landed with the force of a sledgehammer, delivered by the heel of Noah’s boot. With resolve, Noah maintained his grip on his katana, his muscles coiled with a lethal combination of strength and determination.

The impact reverberated through Ren’s body like a thunderclap, sending shockwaves of agony coursing through every fiber of his being. Gasping for breath, he crumpled to the ground as pain engulfed him in its merciless embrace.

Through the haze of agony, Ren could barely make out Noah’s figure looming over him, his eyes ablaze with a fierce intensity. In that moment, Ren realized the extent of Noah’s determination to protect me.

I had warned him, but he didn’t listen.

With trembling hands, Ren reached out in a feeble attempt to plead for mercy, but his words dissolved into a choked gasp as Noah’s steely gaze bore down on him. There would be no forgiveness.

In the aftermath of the brutal blow, a heavy silence descended upon the scene, broken only by the ragged sound of Ren’s labored breathing and the distant echo of Noah’s heartbeat and mine. And as Ren lay sprawled on the ground, his body wracked with pain, he knew that he had awoken the wrath of a man whose love knew no bounds, and whose fury was as unyielding as the steel of his blade.

“I won’t give you the chance to touch her again, but if you even conceive the idea of doing so, I will make sure you don’t recover from this pain,” Noah declared. He knelt down briefly, bringing himself to eye level with Ren, whose face was red and contorted with agony, hands clutching his own body. “I was once a Samurai. I killed men in battle. But I am a ronin now. I will not hesitate to kill anything, or anyone, that is a threat to her. May this serve you as a reminder that I follow no code anymore.”

Though Noah’s words should have chilled me, they didn’t.

As Ren lay writhing on the ground, noah slowly turned to me, his features softening instantly.

I extended a hand to him, the one free of bloodstains.

The fear I saw in his eyes disarmed me.

His fingers gently lifted my chin to examine the cut on my neck. It wasn’t deep, but it would leave a scar.

Before I could reassure Noah, he slid one arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his embrace, enveloping me in a cocoon of safety. I wrapped my arms around his torso, pressing my face against his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath his skin.

We turned to face Ren.

“This isn’t over,” Ren managed to say, one hand on the floor now, the other one still on his stomach.

“It is for you,” Noah replied firmly.

Ren’s gaze shifted to me, ignoring him.

“Your father is not far. When he finds you, he will show no mercy to him. Or to you.”

I swallowed, but I kept my chin held high.

“Leave, Ren,” I asserted. “There is nothing for you here. I chose Noah. I will marry him. I will bear his children. I’m here today because I have chosen my future. Me. No one did it for me. There’s nothing here for you to fight for.”

Ren spat on the ground; the action tinted with blood. Noah stood his ground. Eventually, Ren managed to retrieve his katana and rise. I doubted he would be able to bend down again to retrieve the dagger, but I didn’t care.

“You don’t deserve her,” Ren sneered at Noah.

“I’m aware,” Noah admitted, “but I’ll spend the rest of my days trying my damnest hard to make myself worthy of her.”

Those were our final words to Ren.

That would be the last time we ever saw Ren. I didn’t know at that time, and didn’t even conceive the thought because a part of me was actually terrified of what could happen in the upcoming days, in the upcoming hours —but we would never cross paths again.

Back in the bustling street, tucked against Noah’s side and still reeling from the shock, we searched for Kenzo, Noah calling out to him without drawing undue attention from the locals.

When Kenzo arrived and saw the blood staining my neck, he was poised to rally the community’s trained warriors, but I stopped him. Noah told him what happened and urged him to get someone who could tend to my wound.

Kenzo led us to a nearby house, just a stone’s throw away. Noah never once released his grip on me.

Ascending wooden stairs to the first floor of the modest house, after a couple of polite knocks, the door creaked open, revealing a diminutive, kindly-faced old woman. Upon Kenzo’s introduction and a plea for assistance, she ushered us inside.

She asked no questions, directing me to recline on a bed in what appeared to be a makeshift nurse’s room. Instructing me to tilt my neck for examination, she diligently tended to my wound, cleansing and dressing it with practiced care.

Noah stood never too far, a silent sentinel with arms crossed tightly over his chest, his expression taut with worry. Kenzo attempted to engage him in conversation, but Noah remained reticent, his attention fixated on the street below as he stood by the window, peering out through parted curtains.

In that moment, it was as though the samurai had taken the place of my lover, and I didn’t know when I was going to get him back.

“Should we consider returning to the community as soon as possible?” Kenzo asked, casting a concerned glance in my direction, a consideration he had after noting Noah’s suddenly silent demeanor.

“Yes,” I said softly, aching to reach out to Noah but held back by the old woman’s ministrations as she applied a strange liquid-soaked cotton pad to my neck. “If my father is nearby, they should be informed. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to your com—.”

“I’ll take care of him”, Noah interjected suddenly, his tone conveying a sense of determination that unsettled me.

However, it was Kenzo who responded to Noah’s declaration.

“No,” he said. “Firstly, this community is not just ours, it’s yours now, too. Our sanctuary transcends royalty and government jurisdiction. There’s a higher power at play here, one that protects us. Besides, we’re well-equipped to handle such situations. Many of us come from similar backgrounds. We’re accustomed to defending our own, and you two are now part of our community.”

Noah was not expecting that, and neither was I.

“You will be all right,” the old lady assured me, redirecting my focus away from the conversation. Her gentle pat on my shoulder offered solace. I was about to reach for my neck, but she shook her head, advising against it. “It will heal just fine but avoid touching it. Keep it clean throughout the day, and it will soon fade away”.

A soft “thank you” escaped my lips, overwhelmed by the kindness and care we were receiving. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes as I sat up on the bed, seeking out Noah’s attention with a silent plea.

Finally, he noticed my distress and approached me. His arm enveloped my shoulders once more, while his other hand gently cradled the back of my head. As I wrapped my arms around him, he pressed me to his chest, planting a tender kiss on my hair as I struggled to contain my tears.

We journeyed back to the sanctuary on horseback, a magnificent creature provided by a local resident keen on making our trip back quicker. Kenzo rode at the front on his own horse. I rode together with Noah, seated in front of him, feeling the tension emanating from his body envelop me. I could sense his restraint in his muscles, on his chest pressed against my back. I could see it at the way his grip tightened on the horse leash, his knuckles whitening.

Upon crossing the southwest gate, Noah dismounted first, reaching out to lift me down from the horse. As my feet touched the ground, a fleeting sense of relief washed over me, grateful to be within the safety of the community once more.

However, my respite was short-lived.

After we secured the horses and made our way toward the main square, an eerie silence hung in the air, contrasting the usual bustle of activity we had found the day before. There were no deer grazing nearby, no children’s laughter echoing through the streets.

I noticed Rei, Maura, and two others approaching us, their expressions somber, katanas sheathed at their waists.

“The Shogun is here,” Maura announced.

The moment the news reached me, I spotted my father approaching us, coming down from the main stone path, his battle armor on, weapons ready, surrounded by an army of at least eight Samurai, flanking him from each side. His stride was determined, and the look on his eyes fierce.

My heart clenched.

No. I won’t let him get near Noah again.

I seized hold of Noah’s katana, drawing it from its sheath, ready to fight my father one more time.

The last time.

Author's note: I just want to say thank you to each of you that has shown love in any way for this fic. I started it as a oneshot from a random idea i got after seeing a picture of Noah with a katana, and here we are now. I have spent hours writing these chapters and doing research and trying to make my writing as good as it can get, considering the historical aspect of this fic. It means a lot to me to know that you're following Noah's and his princess' journey. I can't wait to share with you the next part very soon and then, the epilogue.

All my love <3

#the unmaking of a warrior #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian x you #bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fic #thank you all for giving this fic so much love #it means a lot #samurai!noah

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marcilled · 5 months

Text

i had to take a little while to formulate my thoughts on that marcille illustration trigger put out, cuz ive seen a lot of people in the fandom draw complaints about it and i both agree and disagree with the common complaints.

everyone is right about the titillating pose being incredibly ooc for marcille. the problem isn't that trigger is trying to sexualize her, it's that they get her characterization wrong while doing so, imo. it's important that she is a slightly neurotic, easily flustered "failgirl". she's a clean freak. if she's going to be lying in repose on the dirty floor looking sexily at someone she'd only do it for a purpose (or for falin). she's not some generic anime waifu and they have to understand that or they're gonna have a lot of disappointed fans!

that being said, i really appreciate that they managed to put some horny energy into that illustration without making marcille show a lot of skin. She's just wearing her usual blue robes- it's moreso the pose/expression that imparts the "horny energy", and that, at least, is correct to me- I'd argue it matches the same energy that Ryoko kui often gives out with her art! This isn't like kill la kill, and honestly thank god. That was something i was incredibly worried about when i heard trigger was adapting dungeon meshi. They still have the opportunity to fail me, but i haven't seen any overtly misogynist fanservice from them on this show so far yet. Making marcille ooc for the purpose of being sexy does make me worry, though, that's a troubling sign...

However, as much as i find it to be a troubling sign, I think people are getting a bit too psyched out on this issue. It honestly makes sense that they'd release some fanservice-y promotional art like this before the anime airs, it draws people in and invites discussion after all lol. it doesn't necessarily represent or even say anything at all about what marcille is going to be like in the anime itself! there's the concern that it does represent how she'll be handled in the anime of course, but it's hard to really say for sure. personally, i'm going to hold my breath until the first episode drops at midnight tonight. i'm maintaining my optimism, i feel really excited about this anime.

no matter what happens, i'm just glad that so many new folks are going to get to experience this story that i love so much! It's never going to compare to the manga itself, but I have hopes it'll still be really good regardless. If you find yourself liking the anime but having gripes with how they handled parts of it, just read the manga! it's well-worth it, Dungeon meshi is a story worth reading one page at a time.

#vivi bleats #dungeon meshi

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karniss-bg3 · 7 months

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Writing Prompt: Kar'niss x Tav proposal and /or wedding planning? I imagine they'd have a super intimate ceremony, maybe just the two of them

The hour had grown late in the sleepy town Tav and Kar’niss had settled in. Tav was working to lead the livestock back to their pens to rest for the night. After the task had been completed they’d go in search of their drider, their gaze drawn to the roof of their home where he had settled to admire the sky. Tav climbed up the ladder to get within reach, walking over to the pensive creature with a smile.

“Taking a moment of repose?” Tav asked.

Kar’niss settled on his belly, his legs bent into sharp points either side of his large body. “Yes, thinking.”

Tav walked over and sat in front of him, leaning back between his pedipalps to get comfortable. Kar’niss rested the stubby limbs over Tav’s shoulders, hooking under their arms to draw them tighter to his body.

“About what?”

“The future,” he stated simply, “our future.”

They took in a soft breath while their hands grasped his pedipalps, rubbing over the solid surface in an affectionate pass. “I’ve been thinking about the same. We’ve lived here for a few years now, found a rhythm that works for us. It took time to get over everything with the Netherbrain, all of the trials we went through just to survive. But we made it Kar’niss, we’re alive.”

Kar’niss nodded. “I am grateful for this. Some days...are easier than others. My mind still plagues me, I still hear the whisper of voices that are not real. You have helped me to cope, to find a way to live even with this affliction.” He leaned his torso so he could wrap his arms around Tav, his chin nestled on top of their head.

Tav closed their eyes and leaned back into him, the cool breeze wafting between the pair while they enjoyed each others company. “I am proud of how far you’ve come. I know it’s been an adjustment living on the surface, contending with so many eyes on you. You’ve handled it well.” They paused, their gaze trained on the half moon above, a sight the pair admired often together. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The drider tipped his head back, surprised by the statement. “You do?”

“Of course. After all this time we’ve spent together it’s become clear that I couldn’t imagine a day without you.” Tav turned their head to look up at him. “I love you and I love this.” They squeezed their lovers arm, shifting their weight so they could turn to better face him.

He bowed his head, rogue strands of white slipped from behind his ear to sway free. “I love you as well, very much. But—are you sure? I am still a monster to many people, it will be hard for the world to see us together.”

“Then let the world squabble among themselves.” Tav reached to cup either side of his face, fingertips feeling over the mixture of soft and hard features. “I don’t need them to understand us, this is not for them.”

There was a silence between them while they both let such a concept sink in. Kar’niss was still coming to terms with anyone willing to stick their necks out for him. He’d lean down and rest his forehead to Tav’s own. “Then...I see no reason why we can’t stay together like this. I do not wish to be anywhere else.”

Tav smiled as their noses brushed, basking in each other’s presence. “Marry me,” Tav whispered as their voice warbled with emotion.

Kar’niss blinked in confusion, soon leaning away to study Tav’s face. “Mare-ee?” He squinted as his legs clicked at the ground.

It took Tav a moment to realize that such ceremonies weren’t commonplace in drow society and if anything were unheard of. “Marriage is a bonding ceremony, something two people do when they want to promise to devote themselves to each other. Sometimes it is used for political means among noble houses but for most it’s a promise to love one another until their death.”

“This is a strange concept to me,” Kar’niss began, “consorts, slaves, lust toys, all of this makes sense to me. High houses of the Matriarchs had some ceremonies but it was never for love. Drow...do not even have a word for such an emotion.”

“Which is a shame. I know you’ve had a hard time in the Underdark but the same will not be true here, not with me at least. I would like to marry you but only if you desire the same in return. This is not your custom and I don’t want you to feel forced.”

“I do not feel forced when I am with you. I simply don’t know what this ritual requires. Is it something someone with a body such as mine can do? Is it some sort of physical challenge to prove virility? Or is it more a test of the mind and reflexes?”

Tav chuckled and applied a soft pat to the side of Kar’niss’ face. “It’s not a test, not in that sense at least. The requirements, so to speak, change depending on what deity you follow, or what customs your race may have. For us I think keeping it simple is the best course. Nothing fancy, only what is needed to make it official. A quiet ceremony with a few friends and someone to officiate the wedding.”

“Web-ing?”

“No no, wedding. It’s what the marriage ceremony is called.”

“Oh.”

They smiled at their lover, pressing a soft kiss to his chin. “It’s not as complicated as it may sound, promise. Is it something you want, though? To marry me?”

He inhaled deep into his lungs while he glanced to the side, taking time to think about the notion. He’d look upon Tav and study their features, think through all they had endured together, how Tav had stayed by his side even when he was at his worst. He’d tense his arms to get a good grip around his lover, hoisting them off the ground so they were truly face to face.

“If this is what surface society deems as proof that we are meant to be then I shall do it. I would rise to any test, challenge or ritual necessary to show my devotion. You are my new light in the darkness, Tav. Now and always.”

Tav felt a well of emotion bubble within their chest, their heart swelling after hearing words of passionate conviction. Their chosen reply was that of a kiss, deep and intense to transfer their excitement to Kar’niss directly. The gesture was returned by the drider with equal vigor, embracing the one he loved beyond all measure. They held the embrace for as long as their lungs could bare it, Tav’s arms winding around Kar’niss’ neck to hold fast. A new chapter of their lives was beginning and neither could be more eager to see it unfold.

The adventurer and the wayward spider, together forever.

#baldur's gate 3 #kar'niss #drider #bg3 #karniss #baldurs gate 3 #answered #my writing #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #tav x kar'niss #kar'niss fanfic #gender neutral tav #fluff #romantic #sfw

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marxandmore · 9 days

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Can you explain like I'm five years old exactly what Marxism is and how it works? What would a Marxist world look like for you?

I know Karl Marx was a guy like 200 years ago and he had certain ideas about how the world should run.

I just can't understand the original sources and like i tend to think in more practical every day person terms and less...society planning. If that makes sense.

I'm anarchist myself, but like at the end of the day we all want human rights I think so idc. Your thing is just as valid as mine. :)

What Is Marxism?

Marxism is a deep philosophy with a rich intellectual history, which, without even taking into consideration the philosophy that came before it, has developed over the course of more than 180 years.

It was first outlined by Marx and Engels over the course of more than four decades, and by Marx’s own admission should be called Marxism-Engelism (Bertsch et al 1976, 15). After the death of Marx, and later Engels, it was then developed by novelists, theoreticians, philosophers, economists, and many others up to the present point. Prominent examples are Lenin, Mao Zedong, Angela Davis, Herbert Marcuse, and Franz Fanon. The relevance of Marx’s philosophy has never been greater. The economic system that Marx and Engels originally set out to critique still exists. More than that, it has spread to almost every corner of the globe and has developed significantly, and thanks to advances in education, the possibility of comprehending the system that shapes our daily lives, from work, to friendships, to familial relations, to culture and religion, and even politics, has become ever greater. Yet many people do not understand the work of Marx and others like him. This is due to a variety of factors. Technical and outdated language, lengthy texts, complicated economic formulas, lack of time to study or read, these are all commonly heard reasons and complaints as to why people presently do not comprehend Marx’s work and thus fail to grasp its significance. Although the best way to learn Marxist philosophy is to read and critically engage with the original texts, this series of essays aims to promote Marxist philosophy, past and present, and help newcomers understand its basic premises and claims. This first essay in the series aims to outline the basic components that are necessary to comprehend all later works. Later essays will focus on each individual component and provide a more complete overview. The two basic components that Marxism bases itself on are philosophy and political economy. More specifically, Marxism synthesizes the philosophical theories of dialectics and materialism, and most completely analyzes economic processes in capitalist society, and based on its discoveries, promotes a new economic form and a new society. These components will be further outlined and explored in a little more detail in the upcoming paragraphs. The first essential philosophical concept that Marxism builds upon is the dialectic. Dialectics are essentially a way of viewing all sorts of processes. A form of reasoning already practiced by the ancient Greeks (Engels 1880). Dialectical thinking has two primary aspects. First of all, a dialectical way of thinking acknowledges that everything constantly moves and changes, that everything is interconnected, that things do not exist in a vacuum (Engels 1880). Regarding this, Engels wrote: “[...] we observe the movements, transitions, connections, rather than the things that move, combine, and are connected.” (Engels 1880), as opposed to “[...] observing natural objects and processes in isolation, apart from their connection with the vast whole; of observing them in repose, not in motion; as constraints, not as essentially variables; in their death, not in their life.” (Engels 1880), like a so-called metaphysician or idealist would do. The second main aspect is the aspect of contradiction, the idea that things and processes, both natural and within societies carry within them contradictory aspects. It is impossible to see everything as binary, for example, in the case of life and death. Death is a protracted process that does not happen instantaneously, from a physiological point of view at least (Engels 1880). We can thus speak of a time period in which a human or animal is not quite dead, yet also not quite alive, two contradictory aspects that exist momentarily together, until one process turns into the next. In the aforementioned example, that would be the process of living being completely finished, and then starting the process of decomposition. Within economics we see the principle of two economic classes that depend on each other for their existence within a particular economic system, and as soon as one of these classes abolishes the other, a new economic system is created.

The second essential philosophical concept that Marxism builds upon is materialism. Materialism too, has a lengthy philosophical history, which will be covered in later essays in this series. Materialism is the opposite of idealism. Idealism is the notion that the real world reflects ideas. An example of this would be objective morality or human rights. The idea that there is some sort of objective morality that is true regardless of time and place, or that human rights are an inherent thing that we are all born with, instead of morals and views on human rights being informed by the kind of society we live in, like we see when we analyze history, or even just contemporary societies. Materialism then, is the notion that our ideas, actions, and desires, are shaped by the physical world around us. Marxism aims to not only apply this materialist view to the natural sciences, but also to human society and its history. Regarding this, Engels wrote the following: “The materialist conception of history starts from the proposition that the production of the means to support human life and, next to production, the exchange of things produced, is the basis of all social structure; that in every society that has appeared in history, the manner in which wealth is distributed and society divided into classes or orders is dependent upon what is produced, how it is produced, and how the products are exchanged. From this point of view, the final causes of all social changes and political revolutions are to be sought, not in men's brains, not in men's better insights into eternal truth and justice, but in changes in the modes of production and exchange. They are to be sought, not in the philosophy, but in the economics of each particular epoch.” (Engels 1880)

Now with the philosophical aspects out of the way, let us look at the second basic component of Marxism: economics. An economic system can be defined as “The institutions that organize the production and distribution of goods and services in an entire economy.” (The CORE Team 2017 ,22). As far as defining an economic system goes, this is an acceptable definition, but of course this is an incomplete definition if we want to look at what the economy itself is. It suggests that the economy is merely about production and distribution, and implicitly consumption. However, ultimately, as Engels has pointed out, as humans we produce and consume to support human life. The economy as a whole then, can be defined as the way in which we as humans organize production, distribution, and consumption, in order to sustain human life. Studying economics then, is about studying the ways in which we produce, distribute, and consume, and expressing this in laws, tendencies, formulas, and mathematical models.

The economic system that we currently live under is called capitalism. In order to understand what capitalism is, it is useful to compare it with what came before it: feudalism. Under feudalism, land and bureaucratic positions were held and passed down on a hereditary basis, people generally had their own tools with which they produced products. Sometimes they required the help of others, but the vast majority of the labor necessary to produce a product was put in by the individual producer, with their individual tools (Engels 1880). After they produced a product, the product was then generally theirs to do with what they pleased. Eventually feudalism collapsed as a result of its own unique set of contradictions, which then resulted in various political revolutions in the UK, France, the USA, etc, around the end of the 18th century. After these revolutions, hereditary positions and hereditary property were largely abolished in favor of all sorts of rights, as well as private property and free competition on a more or less free market.

Capitalism is the result of a long historical process, and developed gradually out of feudalism, but it did not fully develop until these aforementioned political revolutions completely broke the old feudalistic order. Unlike under feudalism, under capitalism, production no longer happens by individual producers with their individual tools (Engels 1880). Under capitalism production is concentrated (Engels 1880). People, in general, no longer work on an individual basis or together with their close family, but instead, they work in workplaces that employ tens, hundreds, even thousands of people, all in the same place. Under capitalism, production has also been socialized (Engels 1880). Whereas before, people produced products using primarily their own labor, under capitalism, workers are only responsible for a small part in the production of the final product. Now nobody can truly say that they produced a product (Engels 1880). This process was made possible by the rise of large industry, which can produce commodities of the same quality as before, on a much larger and more efficient scale, and against far lower cost (in terms of labor), utilizing mechanical machines.We can clearly see that under capitalism, production has become concentrated instead of loosely organized, socialized instead of individual, yet there are still only few owners of the tools with which the commodities are created, henceforth called the means of production, and on the basis of this ownership over the means of production, they claim the products, and thus by extension the labor of others (the labor of many others is now necessary in the production process). This is one of the great contradictions in capitalistic production.

This new form of industrial production has made old forms of production superfluous because of its more efficient nature, and has consequently forced the owners of older, now obsolete tools, to purchase industrial equipment and continue producing in that way, or in most instances, due to a lack of money, become reliant on the sale of their labor to those who own these new means of production. In this way, capitalism has created two main economic classes: the proletariat and the bourgeoisie. The former sells their labor on an, often hourly, basis to be able to purchase the basic commodities necessary to maintain life. The latter appropriates the labor of others, by virtue of owning the means of production, and by that virtue alone, gets to keep the difference between the price at which a commodity is sold, which is determined by the laws of supply and demand, and the costs of production, including labor costs. In other words, they get to keep the profits. The interests of these two classes are completely opposite and irreconcilable. The proletariat seeks to receive the full worth of what their labor contributed to the finished commodity, while the bourgeoisie seeks to enlarge their profits as much as possible, and utilize these profits to expand their means of production, or capital (hence the name capitalist, and capitalism). This is the main contradiction, along class lines, within capitalism.

The capitalistic way of organizing production and exchange also leads to countless other contradictions that this essay will not go into. Things like the crisis of overproduction, of free competition leading to monopolies, etc.

More important is the way in which Marxism wants to solve these contradictions. Marxism wants to solve these contradictions using communism. As Engels wrote: “Communism is the doctrine of the conditions of the liberation of the proletariat.” (Engels 1847) Now what exactly is communism? Communism is the next logical step in the development of the economy. Production has already been concentrated, made incredibly efficient, and socialized, all that remains is to also socialize the ownership over the means of production. Or as Engels wrote:

“Above all, it will have to take the control of industry and of all branches of production out of the hands of mutually competing individuals, and instead institute a system in which all these branches of production are operated by society as a whole – that is, for the common account, according to a common plan, and with the participation of all members of society.

It will, in other words, abolish competition and replace it with association.” (Engels 1847)

In doing so, the contradiction between socialized production and individual appropriation of labor will be solved, and the bourgeoisie, which relies upon the individual appropriation of labor, will be abolished, thus solving the contradiction between proletariat and bourgeoisie. In its most developed form, it will make money completely unnecessary, as we will no longer need to exchange meager wages for basic commodities, but instead communally produce and consume. It will also abolish the state, which Marxism defines as the oppression of one economic class by another, but that will be topic for a future essay in this series.

In conclusion, Marxism aims to bring together dialectical thinking and materialist philosophy, and apply this, in a scientific way, to analyze societies past and present. Its analysis, which largely revolves around economic classes, incorporates and developed many economic theories, and has formulated and applied many economic laws and formulas. Its conclusion is simple: capitalism is contradictory and will bring about its own demise. From the contradiction in socialized production versus individual appropriation, the proletariat versus the bourgeoisie, to the repeated crises of overproduction, and the tendency of free competition to lead to monopoly, and thus unfree competition. These are all inherent to the capitalist economic system. History has shown us that contradictions can only exist side by side in one system for so long. Sooner or later, it will have to make place for a new economic system that completely negates the old one. Workers of the world, unite! Revolutionary regards, MarxAndMore Bibliography:

Bertsch, Gary K, and Thomas W Ganschow. Comparative Communism : The Soviet, Chinese, and Yugoslav Models. San Francisco: W.H. Freeman, 1976.

Engels, Frederick. “Socialism: Utopian and Scientific.” Marxists.org, 1880. https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1880/soc-utop/index.htm.

Engels, Frederick. “The Principles of Communism.” marxists.org, 1847. https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1847/11/prin-com.htm.

The CORE Team. “The Economy.” www.core-econ.org. Oxford University Press, 2017. https://core-econ.org/the-economy/v1/en/.

V.I. Lenin. “Lenin: The Three Sources and Three Component Parts of Marxism.” Marxists.org, 1913. https://www.marxists.org/archive/lenin/works/1913/mar/x01.htm.

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