#to be woke or 'respect their culture'. it would still be fucking ignorant. like half my interactions with other cultures

[thanx-idonttry]

Bakugou x Black Singer/Blogger!Reader

They Are Pro Heroes, like Age 25.

This came out longer than expected.

Tags: Fluff. Bakugou being a fanboy.

You weren’t hugely famous, but you were internet famous, and that’s still pretty huge. You were just a Black girl showing your voice, hoping to brighten someone’s day.

And with each video of you upload to your blog, you manage to make over 1 million people smile. And one of those 1 million people was Katsuki Bakugou, A.K.A Dynamite. One half of the #1 Pro Hero of Japan.

A few years after high school, He and Midoriya teamed up and climbed the charts to the #1 spot. As busy as he and Midoriya is, he always finds time to watch each and every one of your videos.

He made a secret page under another name, just to like and reblog your videos. He likes to start his day by clicking one of your singing videos, and blare it through his house as he gets ready for the day. He could be going to work of off for the day, he’ll play one of songs.

The man was hooked as soon as he heard you do a cover to Beyonce’s “1+1″. He was shooketh! He’s used to hearing your original songs, you rarely do covers. But he still loved it. Unable to look away from you as your power house voice blocked out everything around him. He loved hearing you sing or watching your other videos of miscellaneous things because it relates to your culture, which he really isn’t exposed to all the time. So he watches to learn more.

But he really just likes watching you. You look so passionate when you do your blogs, it was so interesting to  him. You were such a foreign masterpiece to him, everything from your thick, curly (or braided) dark hair. Your brown (or Hazel) eyes seemed so bright to him. Your skin tone was so wonderful, it always made you look like you were glowing. And your attitude was nothing to play with. He realized that when you obliterated a racist hater on one of her live videos.

He was crushing, he was crushing hard and didn’t even realize it yet. He’ll put on one your videos to relax him Not long before his friends catch on and realize that he was a fan. The first to find out was Midoriya. (He works with the man sooo...) Catching Bakugou watching your videos. “Oh you Follow Y/N too? I think she’s really talented.” Midoriya says to him.

Katsuki, who was still wrapped up in watching you talk about the injustices against your race, he accidentally let “She’s so fucking wonderful.” Slip out loud, and Midoriya smirked teasingly.

Bakugou stiffened, completely frozen with wide eyes and a red tint hitting his face. “Did I hear right? Kacchan has a crush on Y/N?” He teased. In honesty, he’s happy for Bakugou.

But Bakugou being a proud man, doesn’t want to fully admit it. “SHUT THE HELL UP!! I just think she’s... Cool.” He says while still trying to cover up his flushed face, He didn’t want anyone seeing this.

He was embarrassed, his secret is out. He kept you a secret because it was his way of having you all to himself. Even though he didn’t know you and Vice Versa, he wanted you to be his in a way. So yeah, he was crushing.

“So you already know she’ll be here in a couple of weeks for her blog and to do a few promotions. Why don’t you make some arrangements to meet her?” Midoriya suggests, and it makes Bakugou nervous.

“I don’t know about that, she never really mentioned Heroes in any of her posts... I don’t think she’s interested in Pro Heroes.” Bakugou said with some disappointment in his voice

———

“The Wonder Duo once again saved over 200 civilians who were attending a charity ball that was taken hostage by villains. And—” You didn’t even get the chance to hear the rest of the news report because you started fangirling over Dynamite.

They showed clips from the incident and all you could think was how good he looked taking down those villains. You were such a fan of him, but you thought that people would discriminate you two because of your races. Don’t want to constantly hear “DyNaMiTe DoN’t EvEn LiKe BlAcK GiRls” *Insert Eye Roll*

You kept your love for him a secret, if only your fans knew that he was the reason behind every love song you made. You have merchandise from the hero, your love for him ran deep. So you were looking forward to your trip in a couple of weeks, being in the country as Dynamite gave you goosebumps.

A huge part of you was hoping to run into him while you were there. Get him to sign a few things before finishing his patrol, maybe have a little chat. You squealed at the thought of being in front of your favorite hero, thoughts of possibilities floated into your head, like possibly getting a hug, or like sing for him! You wondered if he was a fan of you.

Then a frown appeared on your face, He’s probably too busy to look at your videos. Sure you had fans, but someone like Dynamite is probably  too preoccupied with cooler shit to watch your videos. I mean, you two are from different worlds. Then the comments from people of your blog saying “PRO HEROES FROM JAPAN DON’T LIKE BLACK PEOPLE”  “DYNAMITE DON’T LIKE BLACK GIRLS” Blah, Blah, Blah.

You were worried that your favorite hero wouldn’t want anything to do with you. You grabbed your plushie of Dynamite and held it tight, you did your best to let them thoughts go, but you knew there was only one way to cool your jets, was to blog about it, then make a video afterwards.

You ranted about black love and the appreciation of Black x Japanese interracial love, and that it’s okay to date outside your race. Love is Love and as long as they respect each others cultures and truly love each other. After you logged off, you started getting ready for your trip. You ignored your phone going off, and continued packing.

When you were done, you decided to write a song to help with the left over nerves you got from multiple things. As you sit there in your bonnet, (Favorite color) tank top, (Other Favorite color) shorts, your house shoes booties, typing lyrics into your phone. In your most natural state, you wondered if Dynamite would like you like this. 

You know that you’re beautiful, but the possibility of your future not finding you attractive does bother you. You kept telling yourself to stop thinking  like that and focus on your shit. You don’t need obsessing over petty little shit from people you don’t even know.

_____

Bakugou watched your rant video the moment he woke up. He woke up and grabbed his phone. Once he saw your notification on his phone, he fully woke up and instantly clicked play. Once he didn’t see your bright smile, he knew something was up. 

He laid in his bed, watching you rant about Black love. He heard you mention Pro heroes, and his eyes widened. He knew someone had irritated you, and that irritated him. He knew for sure that he, and a lot of  heroes and civilians here don’t discriminate. He wanted to know who the hell filled your head with this bullshit?! He wanted to make a video, yelling at the extras that think that told you this crap. He wanted to set them straight.

But then people will find out that he’s a fan of you, and if his friends  find out... he’ll never hear the end of it. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero will tease him at every given moment. But he wanted to let you know that all of us Heroes in Japan have nothing but love for the black community. 

Mirko, the Hero he was a sidekick to for 5 years, She was black. And she was the most Badass out of all heroes. He didn’t want you feel this way, he wanted to find a way to make you smile. You make him smile every morning, so he should return the favor. He’ll have to figure out while he patrolling today.

Bakugou got his opportunity while patrolling with Midoriya. The town was holding a festival and a lot of people were attending, including 5-6 News reporters. The Mayor had asked them to guard the event, and of course, being heroes, they accepted.

A idiot wannabe Villain with his quirk being animal shapeshifting, turned into a giant, raging Ape. He was bent on destroying the festival and everything that makes people happy. He and Midoriya took him down in like 10 mins, and of course, reporters wanted them to say a few words or interview them. “Dynamite! Deku! Do you have any words to say?” a  reporter asked as she shoved her mic in his face.

“All I wanna say is... I  fucking Love Black People, They are awesome! Awesome, strong, and especially beautiful. Shout to all the Black Girls/Women everywhere.“ Then  he walked off to give the villain to the cops. Midoriya chimed in and said. “I agree with everything he said. Shout out to the Black People! If you feel like your lives don’t matter to anyone, just know and remember that they truly matter to us, and we’re going to do are hardest to make you all feel protected.“ Then he walked off, catching up to Bakugou.

____

“All I wanna say is... I  fucking Love Black People, They are awesome! Awesome, strong, and especially beautiful. Shout to all the Black Girls/Women everywhere.“

“I agree with everything he said. Shout out to the Black People! If you feel like your lives don’t matter to anyone, just know and remember that they truly matter to us, and we’re going to do are hardest to make you all feel protected.“

The video you watched on the plane was weeks old, but it stills get you feeling good. After you saw this video for the first time two weeks ago, you kinda been smug about it. But not in a bad way.

You felt safe Wearing your Dynamite mearch while blogging or singing. You showed a different side of your room, The side where your shrine to Pro Heroes were. Posters, pillows, and Chibi Dolls.

You even Admitted it to your fans that you were a Hero Nerd, and that brought more followers to your page. You felt great that you didn’t have to hide anymore. Little did you know, A certain Hero was following and loving it more. Making sure to leave a like and reblog on your content.

You were excited for this trip and the Concert you were opening for tonight. You also have a Meet & Greet, so you know this will be great for your content. You were also secretly hoping to run into your dream Hero. You know they say “Don’t Meet Your Hero!” But they can eat your ass because you’re making that happen! You’re favorite hero loves Black Women.

You started to wonder... It’s kind of weird how after you made your rant video about Black Love, He said that on the news. A surge  went through your body as your mind wondered to the fact that Dynamite might actually watch your videos! What if he comes to your concert? *Le gasp* What if he shows up at your meet and greet?! Your internal fangirl started coming out. You had tell yourself to calm down before the people on the plane think you’re being killed or something.

You took one selfie to show that you were on the way, posted it, and fell asleep. When you wake up, You’ll be in Japan.

____

Bakugou was changing out of his hero clothing, finally ending a long day at work. He had just got healed and patched up, and not he was prepping to leave when his phone went off. He reached for it and saw that had you had posted a selfie, and now you’re going live as you approach a familiar theatre.

His eyes widened, He knew exactly where that place was. Then Deku came bursting in, phone in his hand showing the same video he was watching. He had such excitement on his face, he honestly startled Bakugou the way Midoriya bursted in.

“KACCHAN! KACCHAN! WE CAN MAKE IT! WE CAN SEE AND MEET HER!“ Midoriya yelled. His eyes were showing that excitement when he meets a cool hero, a smile to match his excitement. “Get dressed quick! we can still make it on time to see her perform.“

“SHHHH! Shut The Fuck Up Before Someone Hears You Deku! and, I know. I’m getting ready.“ Bakugou had a slight blush on his face, and he was trembling. Why the fuck was he trembling?! He’s just going to meet a person that he enjoys. Someone that he watches damn near everyday and plays her music, nothing special right?

His heart was racing, he couldn’t control his feelings inside, but he did his best to not show them externally. He doesn’t want to look like Midoriya right now. But he had to admit it to himself, he was excited as hell.

Both of them put on hoodies and Sunglasses to hide their identity as they went to the concert. Bakugou’s trembling got a little more noticeable because he was in the same building as you. When you came on stage, Bakugou’s breath hitched. You were even more stunning in person, it was like you had a glow around you as you thanked everyone for coming out. 

As you began to sing, what normally happens to Bakugou, happened 10x more. As your voice hits his ears, he tuned out everyone here. He got tunnel vision, and all he could see and here was you. Midoriya looked at his friend and noticed that Bakugou had loving/relaxed smile on his face. His eyes glued on you. And that gave Midoriya an Idea.

When you were done with your performance, Midoriya dragged Bakugou backstage, to your dressing room. The guards weren’t letting them pass until Midoriya revealed who they were, then the doors flew open for them. (Perks of Being the #1 Heroes.) They knocked on the door, and heard your voice, Bakugou tensed up.  

The only thing that separated you and him was a door. Bakugou’s breathing got heavy, all common sense and the words he knew floated out his head. all he thought was “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! SHE’S BEHIND THIS DOOR!!!”

You asked who was it, and Of course, Midoriya was the one to speak first. “Hi, you don’t know us, but My name is Deku, and I’m the #1-“

The door flew opened before Midoriya had the chance to finish. You stood the with your eyes wide and jaw to the floor. In front of you stood Japan’s #1 heroes, you couldn’t believe it. “No fucking way!” was all you could get out. “I just wanted to say that I know you had a meet and greet, but we’re big fans, especially my partner here. We couldn’t wait” Midoriya finished before pushing Bakugou forward towards you. 

Bakugou stumbled but caught himself as he stood directly in front of you. There you stood, in all your glory, looking like a Black Goddess. He felt like  he wasn’t worthy to be in your presence. He had to collect himself, he had to say something to you! Wait a minute, he’s Katsuki fucking Bakugou! Dynamite! The Great Explosion Murder God! He shouldn’t be nervous! He’s got this

He cleared his throat, then you smiled at him. All that nerve he built, fluttered away like butterflies. He grew a love sick smile and looked at you lovingly. “I love you” Slipped out of his mouth. You gasped, then Bakugou realized what he said and nervously tried to correct his mistake. “Your Work! I love your work! I mean I don’t love you- not to sound like I hate you, I-I mean I actually think you’re amazing....ly talented! Oh Fuck! Let me start over! I’m Dynamite, but you already know that, but you can call me Bakugou. And I enjoy your work.”

Remember what they said about meet you heroes? EAT MY ASS FUCKERS! DYNAMITE IS A FAN!!!!

“He’s a huge fan! he watches everything you post!“ Deku chimed in with his teasing voice and smirk, which caused Bakugou to threaten Midoriya to shut up. You stepped aside to let the two pro heroes into your dressing room.

There the three of you talked. But it was mostly you and Bakugou talking. You find out that he’s been following you for a while and vice versa. You and Bakugou hit off so well, he invited you to lunch and you invited him to do a vid with him. 

It was like the more you talk, the more Bakugou grew to like you. He gave you his contact info because he wanted to keep in touch with you. He appreciated everything that you are, and would love to see more of you in person. Even offered to pay for you to come back soon.

The two of you started traveling to see one another, like him traveling to the states and you going to his country. It wasn’t long before you two started dating. You two doing vids together, and him recording you sing.

Lets just say the world couldn’t predict that you and Japan’s biggest Hero would be a huge Power Couple.

#bnha #mha #bnha bakugou #mha x black reader #bnha x black reader #Katsuki Bakugou x Black reader #Katsuki Bakugo x Black reader #mha x black!reader #bnha x black!reader #katsuki bakugou x black!reader #katsuki bakugo x black!reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #Katsuki Bakugo x Reader #Bakugou x Reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou #Katsuki Bakugou x reader fluff #Katsuki Bakugou Fluff #Katsuki Bakugo x reader fluff #Katsuki Bakugo fluff

[selfships-in-spanish]

The Queen of Demons 4/?

Pairing: Erwin Smith x OC, Levi Ackerman x OC

Rating: Mature (the rating will go up as the story advances! But it will totally be explicit ;D I even have some smut chapters already half written woooo! But right now just in case)

Warnings: None for now, but sexist and misogynist upbringing (Eva's father is a huge asshole).

Word Count: 8885

ALSO POSTED ON AO3

A/N: FUCKING FINALLY. I was so stuck and had a severe writer's block, but here it is! Part 4! I feel like my writing went down a bit but I hope to make up for it on the next one. Finished, not perfect! I hope you enjoy this one and were we can see a bit more of the vets and the 104 kids ôô

CHAPTER 4: WINTER BLOOM

The pale morning rays of sunlight woke the Princess up, mumbling and turning to her side. Eva heard the distant chirps of birds flying by, as well as the sounds of the village being already busy. The neighing of horses, carts being pulled around, setting up the shops, the rooster screeching…

Wait.

That’s not what she usually woke up to.

Back home she only heard the birds and some maids, especially Flora when she would come barging in and opening the thick curtains of her windows, letting the sun hit right in Princess’ face as she knew how much Eva despised being woken up like this, hollering: “What–”

“–A great morning this is, your Royal Sleepy Highness!”

Ah, there she was.

Eva attempted a reply but curled up further into the duvet and blankets.

“Oh c’mon, Princess! We’ve got a busy day today! Lots of exciting things!”

“Exciting for you.” Eva mumbled covering her head with the thick bedding.

Flora snorted, rolling her eyes. Without any kind of remorse, Flora grabbed the end of the duvet and blankets and unceremoniously pulled them off the Princess, enjoying the irritated groan she let out as Eva tried to blindly find something to cover herself with.

“Rise and shine!” Flora said in a singsong, stepping out of the Princess’ reach as she tried to kick her leg.

“How can you be so happy and chirpy so early in the morning?” Eva gave up, sighing and rolling out of the oddly comfortable bed; Eva fell asleep earlier than she anticipated.

“Oh, spare me the dramatics! We gotta get you to eat breakfast and prepare you for—“

“I’m not hungry.”

“Yeah, sure thing Princess, as if you don’t gobble up like a duck when you are nervous.” Flora handed Eva her robe, guiding her to the bathroom where a basin already filled with water and a cloth awaited her.

Once her morning routine finished, Eva padded to the living room where breakfast had been already served. It smelled heavenly.

“I don’t gobble like a duck.” Eva sat down, huffing displeased.

The Princess served herself some warm bread, eyeing the jams and butter with a watering mouth. Flora set a steaming cup next to her before sitting down in front of the Princess.

“Sorry, not coffee yet.”

Eva sighed.

The Princess cut some more bread for her handmaiden, sharing the spreading knife after she was done with it. On the first bite Eva hummed, satisfied with the taste and texture. Freshly baked bread was the absolute best. Flora leisurely poured sugar over the butter, her smile widening at the sugary mess. Eva frowned, chewing.

“It’s still a wonder how your teeth haven’t rotten out yet.”

“Ah, family thing for sure!” Flora took a heartly bite of the sweet monstrosity in her hands. “Gramps still has his teeth intact and covers everything in sugar when he gets his hands on some.”

Eva’s lips curled into a grimace.

“I love sweets but I don't think that is healthy.”

“You just don’t appreciate the flavour.”

“I sincerely doubt there’s any flavour left in that.” Eva nodded towards Flora’s loaf of bread.

The handmaid shrugged, biting down on it and making a show just to irk the Princess further. Eva exaggerated a gag which made Flora giggle.

Three knocks on the heavy wooden door announced the Eldians coming to pick her up. Eva sighed as she watched Flora stand up from the chair next to the Princess and walk to the door, opening it with a short bow and a smile. Eva sat straighter as the looming and bulky figures of the Eldian warriors came into her view, entering the lodgings provided temporarily for her and her handmaiden. They were the same as yesterday, the giant called Mike, the female warrior that caught her attention, Nanaba, and another man Eva couldn’t remember the name right now.

The three warriors bowed, Nanaba and the other warrior waiting right next to the open door as Mike approached her. The giant warrior waved to the door, the message of “you have to go outside” quite clear in his movements. His face did not give away any of his thoughts, keeping a neutral expression as he watched the Princess stand up and follow him, Flora right behind her with giddy steps.

Flora should have been born a Princess or a noble, her happy and open disposition towards everything and everyone would win anyone over, as well as the way she found happiness in the little things of life. How Eva wished she had Flora’s positive mindset.

“Alright, ready for your big day?” the handmaiden asked in hushed whispers, something both women mastered from years of court banquets.

“Of course not. I want to run right back inside.”

“You’re such a big—” Flora was cut off by Eva’s gasp.

Flora raised her eyes just in time to see the giant warrior leaning way too close to the Princess’ personal space and… sniff. The Princess had turned around, disbelief and stupefaction etched on her face at the nerve this big, brute man had to go sniffing people without… without their consent. Eva found it uncouth, impolite, and her cheeks blazed in indignation.

Mike leaned back, humming, pleased at something Eva wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Nanaba immediately chastised the big man, kicking his leg and nagging at him as he shrugged, crossing his arms and looking slightly guilty. At the scene unfolding right outside the house, people began to stop and watch, and Eva felt her blood run cold at the sound of the Chief’s laugh coming from down the stairs. Hans and Friederich were already there, and the youngest of the two brothers was about to march upstairs, his displeased frown deepening. The Chief nodded to Moblit, motioning him to rush to them and clear misunderstandings. Levi rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue.

“Your Highness, please accept our deepest apologies.” Moblit hastily bowed, an apologetic smile in his lips. “Mike here has this habit of… uh, sniffing people.”

“Is he implying I smell?” Eva’s mouth was pulled into a tight line. Flora did not spend as long as she did grooming her and using those soaps and perfumes Eva loved for this man to mock her handmaiden’s efforts. Besides, she kept her hygiene up to date, thank you very much.

“No! Not at all, Your Highness. Mike has a great and sharp sense of smell, like a… ah, what’s the name... ah, wolf! Like a wolf, and although I do concede that it may be considered rude, he just does it from force of habit.”

Eva raised her brow skeptically.

“He meant no disrespect, Your Highness. It’s his way to say that he uh… he welcomes you.” Moblit ventured a quick glance towards the man in question, muttering something as he almost imperceptibly nodded towards the Princess with wide impatient eyes.

Mike huffed, but muttered something back to Moblit in a deep voice. Next to him, Nanaba nodded, pleased.

“He apologises, Your Highness, and compliments you.” that piqued Eva’s curiosity. “He says you smell comforting, of lavender and honey. That’s something he appreciates, with his sharp sense of smell he can easily get overwhelmed by strong scents.”

“Ah, that must be troublesome.” Eva turned to face Mike and inclined her head. “My apologies for acting harshly.” But Eva still thought her response was totally justified. A warning beforehand would have been nice, and she still had her pride.

Mike answered with one curtly bow of his head of his own.

“Indeed.” Moblit decided the issue was resolved and lifted his arm towards the Chief and the Gottesreichan Princes, watching the whole ordeal with amused expressions sans Friederich. He still looked murderous. “Please, after you, Your Highness.”

That shocked Eva. Normally back at Gottesreich she would walk behind the men and respectfully listen to whoever was talking, and even after visiting other countries, that rule still applied, or maybe they weren’t willing to go against Gottesreich. Either way, Eva was taught to never disrespect its citizens and rulers when visiting foreign kingdoms from her brothers, and the Princess always willed herself to follow the Kingdom’s culture and customs out of respect, despite what her father said on more than one occasion. Her brothers taught her to be respectful, and she would not ignore them, and even less be an embarrassment for her brothers. Summoning with all her will a composed mask on her face, Eva dared to take the lead and walk down the snow covered stairs to where her brothers and Chief awaited. Flora walked right behind her, always keeping a watchful eye to her skirts and cloak, in case they may get in the way.

The crunching of her steps on the snow were deafening for the Princess. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch. She was used to having all eyes on her, from courts and dances and banquets, from nobles and princes trying to win her father’s good graces, but having the people of Eldia stop and observe every single move she was doing felt suffocating. One slip and she was probably doomed in their eyes.

Eva stopped right in front of the men, bowing respectfully.

“Good morning, my Lord. Brothers.” Moblit’s voice softly translated for the Chief, who didn’t take his eyes away from her the entire descent.

The Chief returned the greeting, bowing as well.

“I hope you had a pleasant sleep, your Highness.”

“I did. Thank you, my Lord.” Eva did not find the need to tell him how she tossed and turned around, her mind restless, musing over yesterday’s events –his touch– or how she missed her pillows back at the palace. The Chief seemed pleased, although there was a glint in his eyes that he most certainly caught the lie. Damn it.

“If there is anything we can offer to help you get settled and to further accommodate you, please do not hesitate to say so, your Highness. I understand it may be unpleasant being so far away from home and your people.” Eva was slightly taken aback at how the Chief seemed to be understanding of her situation, contrary to what she had heard and been told a husband would be once she married. The Princess didn’t want to let her hopes up in case the fall was to be harder than it would already be.

“Thank you for your consideration, my Lord. I will do so in case I need it.” Eva knew she wouldn’t say a thing, her stubbornness always playing against her favour.

The Chief seemed pleased enough with her answer. He turned slightly so he was facing the three Gottesreichan siblings, addressing the rest of the foreign party as well. Moblit translated for them all, and Flora managed to contain her excited hops when the Chief officially announced the start of their walk around the village.

Much to the Princess’ dismay, the Chief had offered up his right arm for her to hold on as they began the tour, an encouraging smile on his lips as if saying “go on, I will not harm you”. Eva had hoped her brothers would keep him distracted enough so she could trail behind and listen, observing her surroundings, but no such luck. It seemed like here in Eldia they weren’t as reticent of closeness as they were in Gottesreich, and women were treated differently.

The Chief was still as big and massive as the Princess remembered from yesterday’s banquet, thinking it was her own nerves and wine that exaggerated her memories, but the way her hands had trouble meeting on the Chief’s arm told her otherwise. The Eldian leader kept a slow pace, mindful of his companion and her shorter legs, as he began explaining their village and the way it was structured.

The Eldian architecture was entirely different from the one used in Gottesreich, as well as the distribution of the village itself. Where Eva was used to narrower streets with houses sharing walls, clustered, messy (although the closer to the castle, the better were planned the streets and districts), mossy cobblestones, puddles around the corners with barrels and wooden crates, the townspeople walking as merchants and shopkeepers yelled their offers to the passersby, pennants hanging from side to side of the streets with the Kingdom’s colours… Here in Eldia the streets were wider, the buildings lower in height which gave a sense of the town being less claustrophobic since you could easily see the scenery and the sky. Wooden fences, dark roofs made of slates, the streets made of the earth itself with grass heartily growing on both sides and wooden planks on the floor to help create a more visible path on certain parts, but one could clearly see the cart’s marks as well as the horses pulling them.

Although everything was covered in thick layers of snow, Eva had no doubts it would be a magnificent sight in spring, with the imposing mountains surrounding the village and the vast fields littered with the farmer’s homes composing a picture deserving of a painting. It was rurally beautiful. Different, more primitive, if she took into consideration her own Kingdom’s ways, but efficient. The Princess was sure this level of coordination would not be able to be achieved without years of honing this lifestyle, and it honestly intrigued her, her curiosity piqued. Eva hoped this curiosity and wonder for the novelty wouldn’t disappear quickly and would stay with her until her situation was more bearable, or grew accustomed to.

Moblit’s gentle voice guided the Gottesreichan guests through the Chief’s explanations, looking at the direction where the Chief pointed with his free hand while speaking, often stopping to further go into details about their dwellings, their storage facilities and barns, the marketplace with the villagers already busy with their daily chores. The town’s market was lively and uniquely beautiful, wooden stalls standing proud with all the goods on display. There was all kinds of variety, going from food to parchment and candles and clothes, to jewelry or tools for butchers or farmers.

The Princess’ heart thumped wildly on her chest, trying her hardest not to show her rising panic at the fact that she was walking around the village on the Chief’s arm, having everyone’s eyes on her as they kept their tour. The villagers stopped their chores midway to stare at them, whispering and chattering as they went through. Some respectfully greeted their Chieftain, mostly the warriors patrolling the streets doing a particular salute upon seeing them, but the villagers smiled and bowed, the children present doing the same as they tried to contain their laughs while not being able to keep their eyes off the scene in front of them. The Chief continued their walk after answering the greetings.

An excited giggle, followed by a shriek of what sounded like a name, startled the guests and their hosts, even. The Gottesreichan soldiers took a defensive stance, ready to pounce on the source of it as well as attack if necessary; their priority was defending the monarch's lives at any costs. Eva couldn’t help the scared jump her body did upon hearing the childish laugh and running steps on frozen ground getting nearer, gasping loudly in fear and tightly clutching the Chief’s arm with her tiny hands as she unconsciously leaned on him, seeking protection.

The Chief was ready to make her stand behind him and face the attacker, but stopped immediately upon seeing it was one of the children from before. The boy had rosy cheeks, the colour intensified by both the running and the cold, and probably the excitement too, and had a wide smile that was missing a few teeth. The kid was holding something in his hands, hidden behind his back, and with the eagerness of a child waiting for the exact moment an adult would pay them attention to show them what they got in their hands, the little boy almost shoved his possession to the Chieftain and the Princess.

Once he saw what the boy had in his hands, the Chief visibly relaxed, shoulders shaking in silent amusement at how a little kid got the best of them all. The Princess still looked uncertain, clutching and pressing herself into him. Eyes wide and breath a little bit short, Eva looked down at the kid’s hands. He was holding a… flower?

A flower in the middle of winter? How was that even possible?

The kid kept his eyes on the Princess, urging her to take his present with quick words and lifting his hands further up, his smile widening. Eva thought herself of a stupid fool. How could she have been scared of a child? What harm could he do? Unless… No, unless nothing. This was a little boy offering a flower, a beautiful one that Eva had never seen before. Father would not tarnish the good intentions of a child.

Upon not having, still, immediate response from the Princess, the kid hopped on his spot, irremediably making Eva show a timid smile; she could never resist a toothy grin and sparkling eyes.

One look at the mother told Eva how this was not planned and how the kid had ran off on his own volition. Everyone on the street stopped dead on their tracks and silently watched the exchange, not even daring to breathe. The mother’s wide eyes jumped from the Princess to the Chief, then to his child, not knowing if she should run and apologise to their guests or wait and have faith in their leader and his soon to be wife.

Eva understood quickly this was to be a decisive moment for her and her stay in Eldia. One wrong movement that led to misinterpretation could be beyond disastrous. She had to be good, she had to fulfill her duty and be a good wife and—

Eva took a deep breath. Focus. Don’t succumb into panic.

Fighting her burning cheeks out of her own embarrasment, Eva let go of her almost deadly grip on the Chief’s arm and faced the little boy alone. Keeping her smile on her lips, Eva approached the child with small steps, stopping right in front of him and elegantly folding her gloved hand on top of the other. The kid kept talking at a dizzying speed, and when he noticed how the Princess furrowed her brows in confusion, while still maintaining her smile, he understood not a word he was saying reached her.

Humming to himself while thinking hard, the kid’s face illuminated itself when an idea came to him. He hastily pointed to the flower and then to the Princess, practically shoving it in her hands. Eva looked down and then up at the kid, pointing at herself with a questioning look. The child nodded effusively, shoving the poor flower again.

Eva couldn’t help the soft chuckle upon his enthusiasm, never being able to resist a kid. The Princess took it, making sure to do a slightly exaggerated bow, lifting slightly the skirts and careful enough to not crumple the flower, so the little boy understood her gratitude. The kid happily ran back to his mother, skipping and laughing as he began talking at that incredible speed while his mother looked beyond relieved. Eva did a curtly bow to her too, trying to show the mother no offence of any kind was taken.

Returning to the Chief’s side, Eva brought the flower to her nose. She always did that whenever she came by one, out of habit, and was surprised by the faint but sweet fragrance it emitted. Eva would have to ask about them, knowing Gottesreich did not have any flowers blooming in winter.

Just when they were about to resume their walk, more excited giggles and shouts could be heard. Other children ran away from their mothers and fathers, holding the same flower in their tiny hands. Eva found herself surrounded by eager eyes and smiles, shoving their flowers up so the Princess would pick them up too. Some would tug at her cloak so she would pick theirs first, others jumping on their spot, other’s patiently waiting their turn as they marvelled on the fabric and embroidery of her pale blue winter dress.

The Princess ended up with a small bouquet of flowers, the children shouting and running happily back to their parents once they delivered their gifts. She did not know what to do with them now, and frantically looked at the Chief and her brothers, then to Flora when her siblings had confused expressions, for a clue. The Chieftain had an amused glint in his eyes, but half his mind was busy thinking about something. Finally, Flora took pity on her Princess and walked up to her with a smile on her lips.

“Let’s show off those gifts, shall we, your Highness?”

Flora expertly secured the flowers on the Princess’s up braid, the pure white and calm blue of the flowers an unexpected but welcome complement to the Princess’s own choice of wardrobe. Moblit later explained, upon inquiring about the flowers herself, that they were a special kind of flower that bloomed on their woods only during the cold season, earning the name of “winter miracle”. It also symbolized the welcoming of new people into their tribe, as its sister in the warmer weather.

Eva was touched, knowing not that those kids wanted to welcome her upon hearing she was to become one of them soon. The Princess only wished the adults would have the same feelings towards her.

Thankfully the walk around the village suffered no more incidents and surprises, and Eva was able to delight herself on the market and what it had to offer; she definitely had to go there often and take her sweet time. The quills looked absolutely exquisite, and those were the famous travelling books she heard so much about! Even the jeweller had a beautiful selection of earrings, bracelets, necklaces and rings that the Princess had no idea the Eldians were capable of such craftsmanship. She particularly liked the brooch with the silhouette of a bird resting on a golden branch, the gold of the bird expertly mixed with beautiful midnight blue gemstones, resembling feathers. Also the hairpins! They were absolutely marvelous. The jeweller himself was both pleased and proud that the Gottesreichan Princess liked his products.

Their next destination amazed and terrified the Gottesreichan guests.

Eldia’s military prowess was legendary, and right now, they had its base and core right in front of them. The training grounds were a massive expanse of terrain, with barracks, thoroughly used wooden dummies, racks full of well-cared training weapons of all kinds, archery ranges, horse-riding training fields… and each and every single space was filled to the brim with warriors and trainees.

It was frightening to see how Eldia’s army was composed of perfectly trained warriors with wide expertise in the arts of combat. Not a movement wasted, not a single error in the placement of their feet to maintain balance. Strength, power, endurance, knowledge— every skill needed to become a perfect warrior, it was taught here in the massive training fields.

The Chief walked them right through the training grounds, nodding towards the warriors and fresh trainees who ceremoniously saluted him and the entourage he was leading. It was the same salute the Gottesreichan guests had seen in their entire walk around the unexpectedly gigantic village: right hand closed in a fist over their hearts, left hand on the back, and a proud stance full of tenacity and devotion. The newest recruits surprised the royal siblings, full of young faces who couldn’t be older than 15, but with a fierce determination to learn and to prove themselves. All sizes, shapes and forms– if you were up to it, were ready to go through an intense training, it did not matter who you were: a farmer’s son, a baker’s daughter… if you dedicated your heart, trained hard and understood what values had an Eldian warrior, what a life meant, you were fit to become one.

They stopped to observe the fresh batch that just started training a few months back go through a hand to hand combat. The instructor, a tall and intimidating man, bald with prominent wrinkles on his forehead and very notorious dark circles under his eyes, yelled out orders to the recruits. Some flinched, some fought every fibre of their beings into not taking a step back –a few of them failing–, but some stood their ground with confident and resolved stares, bearing down the drilling of the grim and frightening man.

Upon seeing that their Chief, the veteran warriors and the Gottesreichan guests where watching them, the recruits swallowed down their fears and tried to impress their leaders and royal guests, trying to make a good and fearsome impression of what the Eldian training grounds and warriors were made of. Punches, kicks, throwing the opponent on the floor… the field became a controlled battlefield of snarls, growls and frustrated shouts that developed into determined grunts. The recruits’ clothes soon became soiled by a mix of sweat and dirt, as a result of their vigorous and energetic try of today’s exercises.

The Princess did not dare to voice it aloud, in fear of her thoughts being perceived as a critique and direct attack on the Eldian ways, but her heart shrank inside her chest at the sight of what must be the smallest, tiniest of the new recruits, a blonde girl with wide blue eyes like the sky above, go against a trainee twice her size. Eva involuntarily clenched her hands in apprehension on the Chief’s arm, eyes not able to look away from the imminent tragedy. She was too tiny to be there! That poor girl was surely to be beaten into a pulp, taken advantage of the fact that she was much weaker, much more smaller–

A large hand squeezed her tightly clasped ones, making the Princess tear away her concerned gaze, even if she thought it was impossible for her to do so, to look down and see the Chief’s one bury her own. The Princess immediately searched for the Chief’s eyes, surprised at how he was already gazing down on her and had a small reassuring smile on his lips, nodding towards the training field. Eva looked straight ahead, just in time to see the petite girl dodge and deliver a solid punch to her opponent, making the cadet stagger backwards and clutch their stomach in pain. It was still far from being perfect and devastatingly powerful, as Eldians were known for, but it was good enough for a start and for the tiny warrior’s size. A small breath of relief released itself from the Princess’ lungs.

It still shocked Eva to the core to see women amongst the military ranks and files of Eldia, and nobody questioning it. Apparently there weren’t any kind of laws to forbid them to enlist, or to do any other job that back in Gottesreich it was meant only for men. How could they do it? How could those brave women endure it? Eva had always been taught how them, the lesser, weaker sex, could not what a man could do, just because God said so in his holy words. Father was the High Priest of Gottesreich, Father preached the word of God, the Holy Scriptures, that he made memorise Eva the moment she began her intense training as the third Princess of Gottesreich. It was so deeply ingrained in her mind that the mere thought of thinking herself above a man and their role made the Princess want to get on her knees and beg for forgiveness from her God.

How far did the dissimilarities run between their nations? How could Father entrust her with his desire to enlighten the Eldians into the correct, pious path? Just the simple thought of questioning her husband-to-be and his ways chilled her entire body and soul. She just… couldn’t. Her father’s will confused Eva.

But still, deep down inside her, locked down and not even daring to let it see the light, she couldn’t help but to… envy them. Envy their freedom of choice, of options, of life. Could she ever be like them? Aspire to have their wide range of choices? Alternatives? Could she choose her own path? She had been taught since she was a little girl that she would spend her life in a home, with her husband and a child in her arms. Not travelling, not expanding knowledge, or meeting new people and cultures… Everything Father and the Governess told her reminded little Eva of a bird cage. Pretty, comfortable, enough to see what was beyond the bars… but a cage.

She learned to accept her fate quickly, not daring to cross Father ever again in her life.

Eva knew she was born in a privileged home. A castle. A Princess. Never hungry, never cold, only the best of the best for her. It only took a quick look beyond the capital to see how privilege fed and took care of her. All her whims and wishes met without hesitation. Not a single patch to fix on her dresses, her hairbrush not missing a single bristle and made of the best silver— a perfect, content life. All you have to do is your duty, Father said. Do what you were born to do. Your only purpose.

Make me proud of being your Father.

Bring glory to the Holy Kingdom.

She was made to be bred, she was made to bear children, heirs, she was made to be a leverage for deals, a bargain chip, as her mind whispered to her in her darkest moments, to bring prosperity and glory to the Holy Kingdom of Gottesreich. She was… She was…

“Your Highness?”

The Princess was brought back to the present by Moblit’s placid voice and the Chief’s gentle tug, as if she had been rooted there, staring at the warriors, and getting lost in her troubles instead of following her fiancé and Eldian hosts. They were staring at her. Everyone. At least it felt like everyone, even the animals. Her breath had caught in her lungs, her throat a hard knot she forced herself to swallow before speaking.

“My deepest apologies, my Lords.” Eva’s mind scrambled to find an appropriate excuse for her lack of manners and being caught zoning out. “I did not mean any disrespect by my actions or to show an unwillingness to follow this pleasant walk. I was simply transfixed by your warriors, admiring their tenacity and will.”

What a load of bullshit.

They all seemed to buy it. Not Flora, though. She could see right through Eva as if she had been made of glass. Her handmaiden would probably ask her about it later in the privacy of their own lodgings, but let it go for now, knowing it was no use to inquire about it in the middle of the village tour, even less in front of their hosts.

They resumed the walk, passing through the training grounds before turning to their right, strolling until they reached one of the biggest houses of the village. Moblit informed them it was where the sick and injured were taken care of. A house for the sick, a hospital. Gottesreich had its own physicians and doctors, but never a house dedicated for the sick, the poor. Eva knew the Palace had their own royal physicians, dedicated only to them, and the people needed to rely on the town’s doctors.

Eva wondered how did this hospital work. Did they dedicate a part of the taxes to it? Was it free? What remedies did they use? What—

One of the windows was slammed open, an excited yell coming out of it. Moblit let out a tired sigh, mumbling in Eldian, as if he knew exactly what was that about. Levi spoke too, the tone in his voice denoting annoyance. Eva felt the Chieftain chuckle, answering his right-hand man with something that made Levi snort.

A head poked out of the window, messy brown hair tied up in a scrambled ponytail. The stranger kept shouting, excited, continuous noises of delight coming out of their mouth. The person noticed the small entourage right down their window, and quieted down instantly, curious as to who were the ones standing there. Then, another excited screech, lurching their body almost out of the window as they enthusiastically waved down. Moblit let out a strangled noise, uselessly raising his arms as if he wanted to catch the over excited person dangling off the window.

Eva discreetly looked to her side, looking for an answer or explanation in the Chief’s eyes, but he was looking up with an amused smile. She used his distraction to look behind her, finding the exact confused expression on her handmaiden and brother’s faces. The Princess saw Flora quietly shrug her shoulders, and she was so tempted to join her, but refrained in case the Eldians caught her and found it impolite. The person on the window shouted something and disappeared inside, sounds of furniture being moved around reaching their ears. Moblit groaned, rubbing his temples.

A few minutes later the same person who had half their body out of the window came out from the main doors of the hospital. Levi discreetly stepped away, not wanting to be involved with the newcomer and the imminent events. He really wanted to go back to the privacy and tranquility of his own home, drink a nice cup of tea…

An excited exclamation followed by a strident laugh broke Levi’s long desired daydream. He watched their eccentric approach, wondering how their guests would react to them. Judging by how the delicate Princess gasped at anything that came running and loud, Levi guessed it would not go right. Mike silently joined him, crossing his arms as he, too, observed the catastrophe about to happen.

“Bets?” Mike’s low murmur made Levi snort.

“She will freak out.” Levi turned his head to amusedly stare at his fellow warrior. “Like she did with you.”

Mike scoffed, crossing his arms.

“C’mon, not you too. And I say she doesn’t, just to spite you.”

“Hah! Serves you right, you big-nosed moose.” Levi’s gaze fell back to the front.

“It was not my intention.” it truly hadn’t been. He couldn’t help it, Mike trusted his nose, knowing his instincts never failed him before. He had to know.

“Just, don’t go sniffing people.”

“I will not make such promises.” Mike’s lips curled into a smile, proud at the way he managed to make Levi’s shoulders briefly shake.

Both warriors kept watching the scene in front of them, with Moblit trying to save the situation from their beloved doctor’s clutches, quickly directing their attention to himself and his words. Everybody knew that Moblit had a reserved spot on their Goddesses’ paradise; nobody worked as hard as him, and was as skilled to manage the village’s resident genius doctor.

“Your Highnesses, it is my pleasure to introduce you to our doctor, Hange Zoë. They are the head of the hospital and–”

“IT IS PLEASURE TO MEET, HIGHNESSESES!” Hange cut the poor and exasperated Moblit out, excitedly looking from one sibling to the other. The royal hosts were surprised at the doctor’s broken Gottesreichan attempt, albeit enthusiastic.

Flora successfully covered an amused snort. Ardor! Fervor! Passion! Flora admired that in a person, and for now, Doctor Hange Zoë managed to catch her attention. The handmaiden was sure she could learn interesting things from this eager physician, and secretly wanted to see how Eva would react. It reminded her of her first week as the Princess’ handmaiden, chasing a scared and overwhelmed Eva down the corridors as she tightly clutched one of her precious books, wanting to volt out of any situation that involved a loud and chatty girl following her everywhere. Flora realises know that she had been a little bit insensitive to her poor friend, but in her defense she just wanted her Princess to live.

The eccentric doctor went from sibling to sibling, offering their hand for them to shake. Prince Hans took it surprisingly well, smiling warmly and shaking the offered hand with what would be considered a perfect grip, confident and secure, while Hange still kept letting out broken gottesreichan, not giving any thought to the mistakes. Friederich was confused, and as such, shook his hand with the same sentiment as he was feeling; the second Prince felt as if a strong wind knocked him out of his feet and all he could say was “huh?”.

But ah, Eva. Poor Eva. She had brief flashes of her childhood with Flora, of an overexcited girl running after her as she talked, and talked, and talked… until Eva began to enjoy her extroverted nature and secretly thanked her for dragging her out of her room or the library. But still, Doctor Hange Zoë managed to scare the living daylights out of her with their excited gasp and sparkling eyes. Eva clutched the Chief’s arm in a deathly grip for the second time that day.

Hange offered their hand out too, but then seemed to think about it. Did princesses shake hands too? Was it protocol? Well, Hange never truly cared about protocols, to be honest, Moblit usually took care of that. So maybe it was too forward? Should Hange bow? Did they thoroughly screw up in their eagerness–?

Eva raised her hand and took Hange’s as her brothers did, Forcing herself to paint a warm smile on her lips.

Her father and governess’ voices were screaming inside her head, louder than her own heartbeat. How dare you shake hands with a commoner, you, a princess of Gottesreich? A princess should never shake hands! Commoners must bow, must kneel, must–

“The pleasure is mine, doctor Zoë. I am afraid I do not know any word of Eldian yet, but thank you for your efforts. I hope to learn soon.” Eva would follow her brothers’ lead for now, as they discussed on their journey to Eldia. Father was not here. Father did not understand. If Eva was to settle here to start a new life and end it here, she could not start fights and discontent because of her father’s pride. It was the smart thing to do.

The coarseness of her father always upsetted her, even if she swallowed her discontent, not wanting to repeat that night.

Hange’s uncertain face instantly turned into a bright smile. They didn’t screw up! The doctor turned to say something to the Chief, who in return gained a brief smile. Then, Hange returned their attention to the siblings.

Levi was rendered speechless. He lost the stupid bet! Levi was sure the Princess would freak out upon Hange’s overly enthusiastic greetings, judging by how she had reacted earlier with Mike and his antics. He didn’t dare to turn to his left to see Mike’s moronic moustache smiling smugly at him.

“You owe me.” Mike’s grin could be heard in his voice.

“Shut up, you giant tree.” Damn it!

“Want come in? Show house?” Hange signaled to the main entrance of the Hospital, already thinking about the tour they would take the royal siblings and show how amazing their inventions and discoveries had been.

Should Eva say yes? No, that was arrogant of her, she couldn’t decide on a whim what or what to not do, even less without consulting it with her brothers or the Eldian leader. Didn’t the Eldians also have an itinerary already made for today? The people on the streets and outside the hospital were staring at them, curious about the scene in front of them. Eva was getting nervous. their stares were suffocating her, their attention adding more weight on her, her mind scrambling to find an appropriate response–

Moblit intercepted before Eva could begin, quickly saving the moment.

The Princess was grateful for it, feeling the weight of the decision on her shoulders diminish; she restrained her relieved sigh from escaping her lips, though. Moblit would handle it, thank God above! With a pang of pity in her heart, Eva watched Hange go from thrilled to crestfallen as Moblit spoke. Now she felt bad, knowing for sure they had the best intentions in their heart. Maybe the detour wasn’t that bad…?

But Hange immediately returned to their cheerful self.

“Must come other day! Question Erwin about it!” Hange clasped Eva’s hand in theirs, that exhilarated spark back in their eyes. “Must show you fun things!”

Eva pressed her lips into a tight, nervous smile and nodded, hoping it would be enough to quench Doctor Hange’s eagerness. Too forward! Too forward! Was this also an eldian thing? It seemed to do the trick, as they went back inside the hospital when an assistant called them from the door and enthusiastically waved goodbye.

“Apologies, your Highnesses.” Moblit deserved a raise and long vacations. It had been only a day, but it was clear for the gottesreichan guests that the poor man dealt with a lot, and it seemed that Doctor Hange occupied 80% of it. “I must ask for you to forgive Doctor Hange’s lack of protocol and take no offence by it. The Doctor really enjoys meeting new people and telling about their discoveries and new remedies.”

“No offense taken, Moblit. I’m sure Doctor Hange can make it up to us by showing us what they are so excited for, right?” Hans was genuinely interested, always asking the doctors and physicians back at the palace about everything, going as far as reading some books, although he understood half of it. He truly wanted to know Doctor Hange’s thoughts.

“Honestly, I’m curious now.” Friederich scratched his nose, mumbling. Hans sniggered, lowering his voice so only his brother and her sister’s handmaiden could hear him.

“You, willing to listen to non-battle-related things? Who are you and where is my dear brother?” Flora snickered, covering her mouth.

“Oi!” Friederich’s ears went red at the tips.

“We will have to come tomorrow, then.”

Moblit approached them, always with his calm smile on his face.

“May we continue, your Highnesses?”

Only when they resumed their tour, hearing Moblit talk with her brothers and the Eldian warriors escorting them, did Eva realise how Doctor Hange was wearing glasses.

Saying Eva was scared was not enough. Terrified? Frightened? Petrified? There was no adjective to describe the sheer terror those beasts instilled inside her heart. Those were not horses. No horse could be that monstrous size. Nope. No way.

She didn’t even reach the horse’s chest! And even one leg was as thick as her whole body! How did they even suppose she could get on one of them?

They were led to the village’s stables, where the stable hands and grooms had horses ready with their saddles. Each one of them had a different saddle pad, beautiful Eldian embroidery and motifs of golden and white thread on a teal fabric, most of them resembling the ones from the village’s houses, the themes of the needle work being mostly of mother nature herself. The leather of the saddles were beautifully taken care of, going from darker to lighter tints of brown, no doubt the artisans made a good work of the dyes and its delicate processes.

The horses looked healthy, robust and ready to be ridden by their masters. If Eva wasn’t as scared as she was, she would be admiring the animals and the pure strength they exuded.

Friederich was getting more invested into this part of the tour than the previous one. Yes, Eldia was beautiful and curiously different, but for Friederich, it was still boring; he had never been good at diplomacy and pleasantry visits. He had always heard of Eldia’s monstrous steeds, and was delighted to see such enormous and sturdy stallions, powerfully built and vigorous. You could see the raw power in them, and couldn’t wait to see what it felt to ride one of them. Maybe he could convince the Eldian Chief to trade some… Surely his enemies would piss themselves upon seeing a beast such as this charging against them. Yeah, maybe he could, preferably at the evening banquet. Now was not the time.

This was an important ritual for the Eldians.

Moblit gracefully explained how this was considered crucial when two souls got engaged in Eldia. Hunting was part of their culture, a huge one, and they would not bring shame to their traditions and ancestors. It was an art, and the Eldians deeply respected nature and what it provided for humankind, so the solemn air was palpable. For Eldians this was a trial, also. Those who proposed to their lovers would have to hunt a magnificent piece for their betrothed, to both show that they could provide for them and also have the strength, patience, wit and endurance used in hunting that would prevail in their lives.

Since the Chief was getting engaged to the Princess, he had to prove himself to her, so she would accept and approve of her future husband. This ritual held even more importance for who was performing it, and the villagers were actually curious about how well would their Chief perform; sadly, some couples had to use all three attempts to succeed. They hoped the Chief would succeed at his first try.

For Eva, it was basically a show to see how much of a peacock the man could be, not that different from those in court who would fawn themselves and their achievements to win her hand, and what came with it. Bitter? Maybe so. She was just tired of men, but would respect the Eldian tradition. After all, traditions were traditions, and one should always honour them, no matter what.

For Flora, it was just like her beloved romantic novels. A man proving their worth to their beloved? Man versus Beast? Oh, how she wished that for herself! Maybe one day she would find love here, in Eldia. Who knew what the future awaited for her?

“As tradition says,” Moblit spoke. “The future bride and groom must ride together, as the willingness of their souls to start a new journey.”

Eva froze.

No way.

No.

There had to be a mistake. She thought she would ride in a small carriage with Flora, as the men rode and discussed their matters. Her dress wasn’t suited for riding!

On cue, one of the stable hands brought a magnificent white stallion, it’s crest carefully brushed and not a single tangle and bit of dirt on it. It was bigger than the other horses, robust, and Eva understood now what people meant when they said pets and horses resembled their owners: a horse truly fit for a Chief; it had to be his judging by the proud look the man had on his eyes.

The beast patiently stood right in front of them, not showing an ounce of nervousness or uneasiness. How Eva wished she felt the same. She just wanted to bolt right out of there.

The Princess felt the Chief turn towards her, and automatically released her hold on his arm, although he kept her hand in his, gently guiding her towards the Chief’s own stallion. Eva didn’t want to get closer, even less mount on it. She was terrified! They stood in front of the beast’s head, admiring the noble profile and long golden lashes it had. Eva saw the Chief affectionately gaze at his horse, giving it a tender stroke on its muzzle. He looked back at Eva, inviting her to do the same, but the Princess remained rooted, frozen on the spot. The Chief nudged her to pet the stallion’s head by lifting her hand himself, slowly, always watching her reactions closely— the Chieftain knew he was pushing her, but Erwin believed this would help her lose a little bit of her fearful first impression.

Eva watched, between a mix of horror and wonder, how her gloved fingers brushed the horse’s muzzle, its heat warming up her palm. The stallion didn’t even flinch at the change, letting itself be pet. Eva was amazed, transfixed, not even aware of the Chief’s gaze on her. Slowly, a sensation of relief washed all over her body, feeling more secure now that the beast showed no trace of nervousness upon seeing a new face. Eva even let herself release a small smile, even though her heart was still pounding fiercely inside her chest.

More horses were brought to them, each warrior taking the reins of their own steed, as well as new horses for the Princes to ride. Friederich was beyond excited, eyes going from head to rear of the enormous beast he was lent to ride. He looked like a child in a candy shop back at the Capital.

Everyone waited for the Chief to mount first, as tradition dictated. The solemn air felt like a pressing stone on the Princess, not truly knowing what she was supposed to do besides having to ride with him. Should she say something? Perform a certain move? But the Princess stood rooted there, letting her never-fading anxiety begin to swallow whole again.

The Chief prepared himself to mount on, grabbing the pommel with his left hand and easily hoisting himself up when he set his foot on the stirrup. Every move he did looked effortless, as if even a child could do that with their eyes closed. If they thought Eva could achieve such levels, they were going to be thoroughly disappointed. The Chief extended his hand to the Princess, signaling her to come closer and join him on the horse.

The question is: how the hell is she supposed to get on it?

Moblit did not give any clues or hints about it, and everyone respectfully watched as the Princess approached the Chief with small steps. The Eldian leader never looked away from her, and she truly reminded him of a scared fawn.

What came next was a blur for the Princess. One moment she was standing right beside the Chief, timidly taking his hand and raising her other one to try to reach the pommel as the Chief did, her foot raising too to set on the lowered stirrup, and on the next moment Eva found herself being lifted as if she weighted nothing, strong arms pulling her up, easily turning her so she sat astride the horse with her back pressed against his chest.

Eva couldn’t focus on anything but the feel of his broad and strong chest snugly pressed against her back, despite the layers of thick clothing and cloaks between them. Eva did not pay attention to everyone else getting on their horses, or how Friederich couldn’t help the boyish grin on his lips, or how Flora turned beet red when she was made to mount on the same horse as the second Prince of Gottesreich, her confident and self-assured attitude gone for a moment. She couldn’t, not with how the Chief righted her stance with gentle hands, or how he straightened her own dress skirts and cloak without being prompted to do so, or how he guided her gloved hands to the crest and horn, so she had something to hold on to, even if the arms that caged her in wouldn’t let her slip and fall. The cold was forgotten for a moment, as well as her nervous tension.

Prompting the beast to an easy gait, the Chief led the party outside the stables and onto the main street. That’s when Eva snapped out of her trance and quickly ventured a look towards her handmaiden, seeing her grip the crest of the horse she was on with red cheeks. Both women crossed looks, twin bewildered expressions greeting each other. Eva silently cheered for her friend, but was too occupied herself with her own troubles to even waggle her eyebrows to tease her handmaiden.

This was going to be a long day.

The main street greeted them with the eldian villagers gathered on the sides of it, creating a passageway of curious and expectant faces. Everyone looked like they were waiting for a signal, eyes glued to the Chief’s horse and its riders, fingers and feet fidgeting. When the Chief and the Princess passed the first bystanders, the whole wide street exploded into cheers and shouts and blue.

The villagers threw flowers on them and the horses’ hooves, smiling and clapping as they passed by. Eva recognised the winter flowers from before, the same she wore now on her braid, and watched the villagers cover the entire street in a mantle of blue and white. The Chief did not turn to greet or answer them, keeping his head and eyes straight ahead in a solemn show of respect towards their faith in him. That’s when Eva understood this was part of the hunting ritual too, bidding farewell and good luck to the couple about to engage in the ritual. So, to not be disrespectful towards their culture and traditions, Eva did the same, looking straight ahead towards the main gate, into the sky blue path. A flash of the Chieftains’ eyes crossed her mind. The same blue.

It truly was a beautiful sight.

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[duhragonball]

Battle Tendency Liveblog: JJBA Ch. 65-66

This is the start of the “Ultimate Warriors from Ancient Times” arc, but I want to focus on these two chapters because they feature Mark.   I’ve got a lot to say about Mark under the cut, but the short version is that he’s a lousy Nazi and he deserves everything that happens to him.

A large chunk of Chapter 65 is just Caesar hanging out in Joseph and Speedwagon’s hotel room.   They try to play cards, but they’re both cheats.  This wouldn’t bother me at all until Speedwagon points out that he’s been here for eight hours, and never bothered to explain why.   You’d think Joseph would have demanded an answer a long time ago, since he’s not known for patience.  

As it turns out, Caesar’s been waiting for Mark, a buddy of his in the German Army.   Stroheim was in the German Army too, and he told Joseph that the Nazis had discovered three other Pillar Men in Rome.   That’s why he and Speedwagon came here, after all.    Well, Caesar’s an Italian, and Italy and Germany are allies, so Caesar managed to persuade the Germans (through Mark) to let him take a look at the Pillar Men.    So in this chapter, Mark rolls up in a car and drives them over to the site. 

But we already know what happened at the site in Chapter 64.   The Pillar Men have already reawakened, and all the Nazi soldiers stationed there have been slaughtered.   When Mark leads our heroes into the catacombs, they find the remains of the Germans, while Mark bumps into the Pillar Men themselves.  (Note: the above image is not to scale).

The thing is, bumping into the Pillar Men is hazardous to your health.    We saw that vampire grab Santana and large chunks of his body were completely absorbed.   The same thing happens to Mark, only faster, because Wamuu doesn’t even slow down as he walks past him.    He just walks right through Mark and half of his body is gone.  

So when I first watched the JoJo anime, it was right after I watched the Hellsing Ultimate anime, and I got a kick out of seeing two completely different anime takes on vampire lore.   Let’s face it, the Pillar Men are presented as something beyond mere vampires, but they’re basically just super-vampires, not so different from Alucard in Hellsing.    And both make use of the Nazis, except in Hellsing, the Nazis are the villains, while in Battle Tendency, they’re kinda sorta allies.  Stroheim is clearly a bad guy, because he killed his prisoners and tormented Speedwagon, but Mark is presented as a completely sympathetic person.   He’s got a sweetheart back home, Caesar’s the one who introduced them, and he’s planning to get married the next time he goes back to Germany.   And for his very brief appearance in JJBA, he’s completely friendly and helpful to the heroes.   We’re supposed to feel very sorry for him when he gets killed here.  

Part 2 is my favorite, but I think this stands out as it’s biggest flaw.   I get the idea.    Hellsing was dealing with a lot of dark themes, and the protagonists were horrifying in their own right.   So Kouta Hirano used the Nazis as villains to humanize his vampire characters.    By contrast, Hirohiko Araki seems to be using the Nazis to dehumanize the Pillar Men.   They’re so evil that even the Nazis look halfway decent by comparison.   At least the Nazis are human, with human loves and fears and honor.    The Pillar Men kill Mark without even noticing him, and Speedwagon likens this to a human stepping on an ant.     I get what Araki is trying to do here, but it rings hollow.    Fuck Mark, and fuck his Nazi fiance.  The first time we see him, we get a close up of his Iron Cross medal, with the damn swastika in the middle of it.    We’re supposed to buy into the idea that he’s “one of the good Germans”, and it’s 1938, so World War II hasn’t officially started yet, so somehow Mark is supposed to be cool.   But no, I don’t buy it.

Let me go off on a little sidebar and try to explain how we got here.   Battle Tendency was published in 1988.   Back then, Hitler had been dead for decades, and Germany had been partitioned into two countries, East and West Germany.   The Nazis seemed to have been consigned to the dustbin of history, and as time passed, pop culture grew more comfortable using the Nazis as historical villains in stories like this one.    There was a sense that yeah, the Nazis were really bad, but they were gone now, and they would never come back.   I think there was a similar mentality surrounding the Soviet Union after the U.S.S.R. dissolved.    By the 2000′s there were all sorts of internet memes about Nazi stuff and Soviet stuff and it was rationalized as harmless envelope-pushing. 

The problem is, it doesn’t seem so harmless in 2021, when Russia is a autocracy that meddles in U.S. elections, emboldening white nationalists in the process.   The “alt-right” fanatics who marched in Charlottesville in 2017?   The rioters who stormed the Capitol building this past January?   Those assholes probably wouldn’t call themselves Nazis, but neither did the Nazis.   They called themselves “National Socialists”, because they were trying to make their ugly policies sound more legitimate.   The same holds true for “alt-right”, “economic nationalist”, “Qanon”, “truther”, and so on.   They’re just new labels for the same old horseshit.  

I don’t want to judge Battle Tendency too harshly, because it’s the product of a different time, an era when people could at least pretend that Nazism was one of the few problems that we didn’t have to worry about any more.   The same mentality can be found in Hellsing.   The Nazis in Hellsing are definitely villains, but the conceit is that they’re all immortal vampires or werewolves, because that’s the only way the Nazi menace could possibly exist in 1999.    Otherwise, they’d all be dead of old age.   Battle Tendency is set in 1938, so it takes the liberty of presenting sympathetic Nazis, because we already know they’ll be defeated in the end, right?   We might as well see what makes them tick.  

Araki may have thought that using Nazis in a story set in the 1930s would be no different than using Napoleonic French soldiers in a story set in the 1800s.  And in the long run, that might be true, but I don’t think we’re there yet.   In the here and now, it’s aged rather poorly.  

Of course, just because Caesar and Joseph feel bad for Mark doesn’t mean I have to.   And Araki may have been more self-aware than I’m giving him credit for.    Nazi Germany wanted to set itself up as the Master Race, and in this fictional world, the Pillar Men have come to do the same thing, only they’re much, much further ahead of the game.   I think part of the point of Stroheim and Mark was to contrast the Nazis’ supreamcist attitudes with Kars’ ambitions.   For all of Stroheim’s boasting, he’s helpless against Kars’ might.   But at the same time, for all of Kars’ power and brilliance, he’s ultimately chasing the same pipe dream as Hilter and his followers.  

Let’s get back on track.    While the good guys react in horror at what happened to Mark, the Pillar Men just stand around nearby and discuss their situation.   They completely ignore our heroes, just like they ignored Mark.   Kars wants to locate the Red Stone of Aja, because it’s the secret ingredient to the mask he designed that will make them immune to sunlight.   Esidisi doesn’t understand how the stone helps their plan, but he’s totally on board.    But as they head out, Wamuu suddenly attacks Kars, because Kars stepped in his shadow, and apparently Wamuu just lashes out at anyone who does this, friend or foe.   

Wamuu is deeply sorry for this, and begs to be punished, but Kars apologizes instead, because he knows about Wamuu’s whole shadow thing and he feels that he’s the one who made the mistake here.  I really love this exchange, because it defines the Pillar Men so well.    As indifferent as they are to human lives, they respect one another a great deal.   Kars is the leader, but he still treats the other two guys like close associates.    He needs Wamuu’s sharp senses and keen warrior instincts.   Meanwhile, Wamuu and Eisidisi practically worship Kars like a god.   They’ve literally followed him around the world and across thousands of years in pursuit of his vision. 

So yeah, if the goal here was to use Mark’s suffering to make me hate the Pillar Men, it doesn’t work.  The Pillar Men are evil, sure, but they’re pretty cool bad guys.   On the other hand, Mark looks ridiculous here, with Caesar holding and talking to half of his body.   This looks like something out of a Tex Avery cartoon.   

I mean, let’s set aside the whole Nazi thing for a moment.   Why should I feel sorry for Mark?  Because he’s in pain?   He got cut in half!   He should have died instantly!    Because he was going to get married?   We only met this guy one chapter ago!   Because he’s Caesar’s friend?  Well Caesar’s kind of a jerk too.  

Anyway, Mark begs Caesar to kill him and end his suffering, so Caesar uses the Ripple to stop his heart.    Or the half of it that’s still there, I guess.   

Okay, so the whole point of Mark’s death is to really get the good guys fired up to battle the Pillar Men, right?    Okay, Caesar tries to take them on, and he opens with the Bubble Launcher, the same move he talked about earlier.   It didn’t beat Joseph, but Caesar’s Hamon power does hurt Wamuu’s skin, which is more than Joseph managed to do against Santana.  

The Bubble Launcher is supposed to surround the opponent with dozens of soap bubbles charged with Hamon energy.  Wamuu can’t escape without touching them and getting hurt.   But Wamuu just sprouts all these long braids from his head and clothes, and swings them around with superhuman precision to know the bubbles away without hurting himself.  

As it turns out, these Pillar Men are familiar with Hamon.   Santana was surprised to encounter Joseph Joestar’s powers, but Wamuu and the others have fought Ripple users in the past.    And Wamuu’s more intrigued than worried...

Oh, as one final aside, on the car ride to the catacombs, Speedwagon asked Caesar if he tried to use the Ripple to destroy the Pillar Men before they woke up, and Caesar explains that it didn’t work while they were in their dormant state.   Remember, at the very start of this story, Speedwagon called Straizo because he wanted someone to use the Ripple to destroy Santana before he could wake up.   Now we see that even if Straizo had agreed to his request, it wouldn’t have done any good.   Sunlight doesn’t seem to kill the Pillar Men so much as it makes them turn to stone, and the Ripple only hurts them while they’re flesh and blood.   So the only way to kill them seems to be by using Hamon in a direct confrontation, and that’s a tall order...

#jojo's bizarre adventure #battle tendency #joseph joestar #caesar zeppeli #robert e o speedwagon #mark #wamuu #kars #esidisi #get wrecked mark

[animetrashlord-007]

Let’s Keep It Casual

Word Count;; 3k

Genre;; Smut

Pairing;; Kabuto x Reader

Summary;;

“No names. Let's get one thing straight: I don't care who you are. I'm not looking for anything serious, I just want to have a good time.”

Or that fic where you pick up a certain ninja at a bar. Kabuto x Reader

Warning;; Explicit language and sexual content.

Notes;; Published: 2017-05-06

My Masterlist

   You had been on the road for weeks, travelling from village to village without any particular goal. It had started as a sort of pilgrimage to learn more about the other regions. Over time that objective faded only to be replaced with the desire to be free of obligations and expectations. Every town started to blend with the last and the finer details were lost on you. You could care less about their cultures or their ideals. You had no intention of returning home nor did you wish to find a new one.

   One thing you could always count on was the constant flow of people. Person after person would pass you on the crowded streets, each spewing some polite yet distant greeting before disappearing from your memory. Walking down alley after alley, through village after village - it was always the same. Everyone seemed happy. Their lives were perfect and you knew you didn't fit in. It wasn't until the sun fell that your spirits lifted. It wasn't until you found the grimy underbelly, the part of the town that no one wanted to admit existed, that you felt a tinge of joy. This part of town attracted the wrong crowds but the right attitudes. It attracted the kind of people that responded to their primal instincts. These people didn't give a fuck about where you came from or where you were going. They were scum and you despised them, and they felt the same about you. There was nowhere else you'd rather be.

   With a sigh, you sat down at the end of the bar. The bartender didn't bother to take your order, he just poured you a shot and moved on to the next customer. It didn't matter. All of the shitty bars you had been to (and fuck, had you been to a lot) only served one drink: cheap, throat-burning whiskey. You threw some crumpled bills down next to your glass before downing the alcohol. Throwing your hand up in a lazy, beckoning gesture, you flagged the ragged man back to your end of the bar. No words were needed once he examined the wad of cash. With a hearty chuckle, he slid the bottle into your awaiting hands and left you alone to get absolutely shitfaced. You respected men that knew to stay the fuck out of your face when they weren't wanted.

   It didn't surprise you, however, when someone sat beside you. You had downed half of the bottle already and it never took long for the vultures to make their move. You weren't drunk enough to fall into anyone’s bed just yet, but, for whatever reason, people assumed you couldn't hold your liquor. Groaning, you turned your head to face the young male next to you. His grey hair was tied back into a ponytail and he wore the nerdiest pair of black glasses you had ever seen. His attention wasn't on you but rather on the bottles lining the wall. Throwing his head back, he finished his drink in a swift gulp. Giving him a once over, you scoffed.

   “Pretty boy, what's up with the clothes?”

   He peered at you from the corner of his eye, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Would you prefer them off?”

   That sounded like a challenge, or perhaps an offer. Fuck if you knew, you weren’t at your brightest after all the alcohol you had consumed. You took a swig from your bottle, basking in the warmth that burned its way to your gut, before turning your whole body to face him. This time you observed him at a slower pace, humming in approval when your eyes fell to his ass. Humoring your curiosity, he swiveled his stool in a complete circle before stopping in front of you. He didn't bother attempting to conceal his smirk as your eyes scoured his entire body once more. Though his clothes weren't form-fitting, it was obvious that he was athletic. He didn't have a large build, but rather a lean and defined one.

   His skin looked like milk, smooth and delectable. You were beyond grateful that you were sober enough to restrain from running your fingers across his pale cheeks. His eyes glistened as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a motion you found oddly arousing. You were intrigued, to say the least. There was something about the way he presented himself that screamed danger and truth be told, it only turned you on more.

   His dark eyes darted to your lips as you ran your tongue across them and whistled. A smile threatened to break across his features as he shook his head, and you couldn't hold back your own grin. Filling his glass to the rim, you placed it within his grasp as you raised the bottle in a mock toast. The thought of seeing him naked was etched into your mind, courtesy of his earlier comment, and you couldn't shake it out. It had been awhile since you'd been laid and there was no one else in this joint that you'd ever give the time of day to. He was a mysterious stranger that you'd never have to see again. He was young, strong and carefree; he looked like the type that could fuck you into oblivion and be gone before you woke up the next morning. If the burning desire in his eyes was any indication, he wanted it just as much as you did. In short, he was the perfect candidate for a one night stand in an unknown village.

   “Drink up, pretty boy. We've gotta finish this before I let you take me home.”

   His smirk returned in full force as he poured the drink down his throat. Slamming the glass down, he nudged it in your direction. “Don’t go easy on me, then. My name isn't pretty boy, it’s Kab-”

   “No names,” you interrupted, placing a finger against his lips. “Let's get one thing straight: I don't care who you are. I'm not looking for anything serious, I just want to have a good time. Let's fuck and leave it there.”

   “Just how I like it.”

   He held his liquor better than you did. By the time you reached the bottom, your words were beginning to slur. Your feet didn't carry you in their usual graceful manner. Your body felt heavy and burned with the aftertaste of the whiskey. You appreciated the arm draped around your waist that helped guide you through the dark streets. While you didn't care either way, you didn't know whether he was taking you to your hotel or his home. In fact, you didn't know if he even lived around here. He could have been passing through just as you were. If he did live in this village, he may choose a hotel for privacy anyway. Perhaps he had a family back home or he didn't want people to know that he brought any old woman home. Asking would make the situation more personal and, honestly, you didn't care about his life. You pushed the thoughts to the back of your mind where they belonged.

   He let go of your waist and you leaned against the door frame. He pulled out a single key and unlocked the door, throwing it open. He stood aside as he extended his arm in a welcoming gesture. You rolled your eyes before stepping within the room. It was plain and impersonal. There wasn't a single item of his in sight. You couldn't any luggage or even an empty food wrapper or bottle. Kicking off your shoes, you continued to explore the small space. You tugged off your jacket and tossed it on the floor. The lights were on, so it probably wasn't a new room. You pulled your blouse over the top of your head and headed over to the bed. While it was still made, the covers were ruffled from someone sitting on the very bottom edge. The door closed and the lock clicked, which you ignored as you continued to examine the room.

   “Find anything interesting?”

   “No.”

   You turned on your heels to face him. The sudden movement didn't make you feel queasy. You weren't inebriated any longer, much to your dismay. You never wanted to wake up sober next to a stranger, let alone fuck them when you knew you'd remember every detail. Your only hope was that he was hiding some experience behind those geeky spectacles.

   “Why are you still dressed? Pretty sure I already told you I came here to fuck.”

   His eyes landed on your chest, clad only in your lace bra. You raised your hand and shook your head, frowning. He stepped toward you, slipping off his white waistband. You nodded once before pointing at his collar, trailing an invisible line to his crotch. He disregarded your silent request as he pushed you down onto the bed, standing between your thighs and eyeing your body with an undeniable hunger. In an instant, he yanked both his purple and white shirts off. You grinned and attempted to drag him down onto the bed with a quick tug at his pants. He held fast, however, taking a long moment to observe your curves. His eyes locked onto yours as he lowered himself to the ground.

   Hovering next to your knees, he wrapped his hands around your waist. He didn't waste time on the buttons as he lifted your hips and pulled your pants off in one swift motion. He snickered at your scowl, and ignored your feet that were pawing at his trousers. His fingers ran circles along your inner thighs as he kissed your stomach, the act so gentle it sent shivers up your spine. He continued to place kisses on your skin, working up toward your breasts. Licking along your collarbone, he kissed your neck as his hands raised up to your hips once more. His nails pressed into your sides and you grinned at the sensation. You wanted to feel his body under your fingers as you massaged his toned muscles. You wanted to feel his body pressed against yours as he pounded into you without hesitation. He, however, wanted to explore every inch of you. His mouth reached yours, kissing just the corner before you placed two fingers against his lips.

   “Who said you could kiss me?”

   His eyes widened in shock before narrowing. It was his turn to scowl as he cupped your breasts, placing chaste kisses on both through the material of your bra before moving back down to your navel. His lips lingered on your right hip and he sighed, “You don't seem to mind when I kiss you here.”

   You laughed as he hooked your underwear between his fingers. His glare was intense as he ripped them off, earning yet another scowl from you. Pushing your knees out to the side and opening you to his view, his fingers trailed up your legs. One hand lifted your left knee over his shoulder as the other ran gentle circles on your clit. He bit your thigh without warning, earning a gasp, before moving back down. His tongue took over the work on your clit as his hands kneaded the soft skin of your ass. The pleasure increased as he slid one finger inside your hole, your natural lubrication easing the transition as he pushed a second finger inside. He continued at a steady rhythm as he waited for a reaction, tongue switching between sucking on your clitoris and plunging within your walls. You bit your cheek to hold back a small moan but no sound went unnoticed. He withdrew with another heavy sigh, “You didn't mind me kissing you there, either.”

   “You're pretty cute when you're pouting, you know that?”

   “Try not to get too attached.”

   “Don’t worry, I won’t,” You quipped before kicking his leg. “Enough with the foreplay, take your pants off.”

   “Has anyone told you you're impatient?”

   “Will you just fuck me already? Stop screwing around.”

   His signature smirk graced his features as he let his purple pants fall to the ground. Your eyes lit up as his hand toyed with his boxer’s waistband. You could see the outline of his cock, not yet fully erect but hard enough to get the job done. You gave him a thumbs up and he shook his head with a disgruntled huff. Reaching to the bedside table, he pulled out a condom and some lube. Emitting a loud groan, you kicked the tube out of his grasp. He rolled his eyes at your impatience before unwrapping the condom and rolling it on. You slid further back onto the bed, beckoning him forward with a wink. Positioning himself between your legs once more and aligning himself with your entrance, he paused.

   “Are you sure you’re-”

   “Are you going to take your glasses off?”

   “Huh? No.” He frowned as he pushed his glasses up. “I want to see your beautiful face as you're moaning and begging for me.”

   “I have bad news for you, handsome. That's not going to happen unless you actually fuc-”

   Your sentence devolved into an awkward hiss as he entered you. His hand gripped the underside of your thigh as he threw your right leg over his shoulder. He pushed his entire length inside as his hand dug into your ass cheek. Leaning forward and grabbing your hair, he yanked you forward. The roughness of the interaction left you moaning as he bit your bottom lip.

   “Shut up,” he growled, “and kiss me.”

   You didn't retort this time, instead choosing to smash your lips against his. His lips felt soft when they were pressed against yours, yet somehow rough and animalistic at the same time. The kiss wasn't unpleasant. In fact it was electrifying, which made you hate it even more. His hand was still tangled in your hair, so you decided to return the gesture. Snatching his ponytail, you pulled him back away from you. He snarled at the loss of contact. He looked gorgeous and vulnerable, like a wounded puppy. Caressing his cheek with your free hand, you leaned forward to place a peck on his forehead before you slapped him. He jerked backward, pulling out of you slightly as his eyes widened. Licking your lips, you bucked your hips down onto his cock.

   “I didn't expect you to be so intimate, pretty boy.”

   “Well, I am gentleman,” he replied, shrugging off his initial shock.

   You scoffed, “Don't make me laugh. Now will you hurry up and fuck me hard enough that the rest of the hotel hears?”

   One thing you could say about the guy, he was good at following orders. He pulled out to the tip before thrusting back in, setting a fast and rough pace as he continued to hammer into you. He maintained a firm grasp on your arse, hard enough to leave bruises, while pulling your hair at random intervals and biting down on your neck and shoulders. Within the short time of knowing him, he'd already figured out the exact spots to touch to trigger those little pleasurable sounds you tried so hard to hold back. He'd smirk whenever you moaned, his eyes never leaving your face. His stamina was impressive; he showed no signs of slowing down as you felt your orgasm building. It was a nice change considering most of your flings ended without that high you craved. Your nails raked down his back before you pulled him down to your chest. He winced but continued slamming into you. He nibbled on your ear as his dick hit a spot that had your toes curling and your breathing coming out in pants.

   “Fuck, yes, right there!”

   “You like that, do you darling?”

   “I hate you, just- fuck, just keeping hitting that spot, you bastard!”

   He opened his mouth to respond but you were tired of banter. Seizing the opportunity to lock lips, you slipped your tongue inside. His surprise faded as quick as it came. He battled for dominance over the kiss, tongue twirling around yours until you caved and gave him the control he seeked. Breaking the kiss, he grinned at the sight before him. You were panting and sweating, eyes gazing up at him with nothing but lust, and your body was trembling. You were close to your limit. He picked up the pace. The sounds of wet skin slapping together filled the room, alongside the creaking of the bed and thudding of the headboard against the wall. He thrusted harder, deeper. Every time he hit that spot, you just about melted in his hands.

   “I'm gonna cu-”

   “Cum for me, beautiful.”

   “God, fu-fuck you!”

   He was ready to cum as well, but continued to fuck you into the mattress as you rode out your orgasm. The sounds you made were music to his ears. The way you shuddered and quivered beneath him was exquisite. He couldn't hold out any longer, spilling into the condom as he fell on you with a grunt. You groaned at the added weight, pinching his shoulder. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he lifted himself enough to look back into your eyes.

   “You're heavy, get off me for fucks sake.”

   “You swear too much.”

   “You smirk too much.”

   “You make this really adorable face when you're about to cum.”

   “God, will you just get off me already?”

   “It's not as sexy as this blush you're giving me now though,” he whispered into your ear. “Fine. Just give me a few minutes and we can go for round two, since you insist.”

   “Fuck off,” you snapped, glaring at the man smirking above you. “This time, fuck me hard enough that the whole street hears.”

   “I'll fuck you hard enough that the whole village will hear.”

#Kabuto Yakushi #kabuto x reader #smut #anime #naruto #naruto shippuden #kabuto smut #naruto smut #anime smut #anime fic #kabuto fic #naruto fic #anime fanfiction #kabuto fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #anime oneshot #naruto oneshot #naruto x reader #anime x reader #kabuto oneshot #animetrashlord-007

[beckythesooh]

About Rape

Kinda falling in line with my previous rant, I have issues with rape in an unexpected way.

I’m chronicling this on tumblr because I’m obviously unable and unwilling to talk with anyone about this in person. NSFW, TMI, and trigger warnings all around?

Anyways, last September, I was likely raped. I say likely because I’m still hesitant to label it like that because it is someone I know, but I’m pretty sure based on objective evidence of what I know about rape, it would file as rape. But it also hurts me to say I was raped, because it feels like I have am a victim that lost a big part of me—because that’s what being raped means in society—yet I don’t want to see myself that way.

So, I went drinking with someone I know, who is married. I just wanted to go drinking, because drinking is fun. I meet new people. I don’t often get seriously hit on and I never go home with anyone and I’m usually always in control of my body. 

But apparently my body doesn’t have a good control of red wine which I didn’t know until it blacked me out an hour after I had drank it.

Said married “friend” and I were talking to an American couple, stationed at a military base in Okinawa I think. And we went to another bar where I went to the bathroom halfway through, locked the door, and just collapsed on the floor. I blacked out and the wife came and found me and called the friend I was with.

I was partially carried (I don’t think I was piggybacked? But I was at least 75% supported. I could move my legs but not support myself with them) to my friend’s hotel because he said that it was nearby in comparison to my hostel. I cannot stand, there’s not way in hell I could look at my phone to determine if this was true to not, but it probably was. The couple also walked with us to make sure I was ok, but they left when we got to the hotel. The wife was really nice and I think so got me water or something? I just remember she was very kind and texted my friend the next morning.

Now, as always, I use the term friend lightly, as he was the husband of someone I worked with who was willing to drive my other friend and I through Shikoku. I had only talked to him like 4 times really. But really, I don’t expect people that seem human to abuse you when you’re unconscious, so...

Basically, I collapsed on his bed, and wanted to sleep it off. But for some reason he took it as “this is the chance to have sex with her.” And he took off my clothes and forced himself on me. During this time, I was conscious but not in control of my body. And so I distinctly remember saying だめ (no) like 5-10 times. But I’m half alive and still crazy drunk with no energy. My voice can’t sound strong. It sounds like a cutesy weak girl. And he ignored it, as expected. And I thought very clearly, “Oh, this is how it is to be raped.”

To be honest, I gave in, because I knew my body can’t move. I also didn’t want my mind to be “I HATE THIS. I HATE THIS. I’M SUFFERING.” So I pretended like it was just sex for the sake of pleasure, even though I was morally disgusted by—not the fact that I was being raped really—but the fact that he was married and I knew his wife and it fucking pissed me off that he’s not only cheating on his wife but by raping someone.

Anyways...... another side note, I also remember his fingers were rough, and I didn’t know if he actually put his penis in me so I thought that his penis was small. I confirmed with him later when sober if he put it in and I didn’t want to insult his pride so I didn’t say that but..... that shade is the only thing that amuses me. Though it’s legit.

Anyways, when I woke up, I still remembered everything (I’ve never lost my memory despite throwing up) and ran back to my hostel where my other friend was still at. And if I ever need witnesses in the future (though I don’t know if she’ll remember because she honestly forgets everything), she knew I was gone the entire night, she was worried about me, she know I felt like absolute shit, she was the one that helped me buy hangover medicine, and I told her I threw up in the hostel bathroom. Hopefully she’ll remember one of those facts since I don’t have the phone number of the couple (the guy does though), and the hostel won’t remember a girl throwing up on the men’s toilet floor (he was really chill about it so I guess it’s normal). The rest of the trip around we ignored what happened. I don’t want to force myself to be sad about something.

When we got back from the trip, I did call him out. But I’m unfortunately not good at being confrontational in public, so I waited until we were in a place without people too nearby. By this time and during the trip, it was clearly evident that he had an infatuation with me because he kept trying to touch me and hold my hand and took biased photos of me during the trip. Anyways, I told him that I did not give consent, I told him no many times, and that it’s messed up because he’s married. And like... he said sorry that he did something that bothered me, but he made it seem like he didn’t understand why him being married makes it even worse. And it made me so... I dunno if it’s upset or disgusted or disturbed that his wife is someone who I’ve had a similar number of interactions with. I told him I wanted to tell her to clear my own conscious, but like all douchebags, he starts guilt tripping me by saying that all his businesses will be taken from him and his marriage will be dissolved and he might as well die. And I don’t feel pity for him, but I feel.... a word beyond guilt-tripped. Not blackmailed, but like... the same feeling. Like “I know you’re not serious, but in the 1% chance my life actually does go to shit, this is all because of you.” 

Anyways, I listened to what was going on with him and his wife, but I ultimately I was like wtf do you even want. He and his wife are known to be the only couple in the social group that I know them in that act like they are strangers. Everyone has commented on it. But like based on his biased story, it sounds like they’re both bad at marriage and shouldn’t be married. It was such a Japanese couple where they’re business partners more than life partners, and they don’t even eat dinner together. I didn’t know if I pitied them or was disgusted or irritated or pissed—probably all. Ultimately he blamed their small apartment and said he thinks it’d get better when they move soon, and I was like whatever, doubt it, but fuck your shitty lives. I don’t feel kindness for idiots who decide that lifestyle for themselves.

While I can say it crudely and truly now, to his face I tried to be a nice human. With regard to my last post on girls who don’t say the truth, I can understand not being able to say 100% your true feelings. But when my mind was working right and I truly felt something, I never lied about it, I never said yes when I meant no, though my drunk or confrontation-avoiding tone often did fuck the meaning up to sound a lot nicer than I meant, or I stayed shut in insulting people.

With that said, here are the things that I regret. Japanese entrepreneurship is all about networking—not capabilities (yes, hard to imagine but true from everyone I’ve asked). I knew he had a lot of business connections and experience—all mutual friends kept telling me and literally all of them told me to ask him. So after all this mess, I called him out to ask him to teach me about business. Because we both like to drink, it would end up him refusing to teach me about business in a respectable regard, and instead he would want to flirt with me. I would let it happen because I’m used to letting it happen knowing that I can stop it if it gets too far—which I did despite many attempts to bring me to a love hotel. But I also let him hold my hand, and one time I let him kiss me because I was so drunk, tired, and enjoyed wallowing in his attention. That would probably be my top regret in life, and I’m really sad that I let that happen, even though in the big picture it pales in comparison to rape. But I did have control over that and leading him on after the fact. (I’ve realized I’m a hand holding whore. Literally anyone can hold my hand and I really don’t care, and it’s happened a lot.)

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

Anyways, going back to the original topic (sorta; this is all a ramble).

I think the guy who raped me is a horrible human being.

But as someone I know who is connected with a social circle that both of us are largely involved in, I don’t want to hurt him.

I don’t want to believe I’ve been hurt either. More than anything I’m hurt that I’ve been used to hurt his wife and I don’t have the courage to tell her because it would make a mess of a huge social circle. I’ll try to tell her when I leave that social circle and this country for good. If he were single, it wouldn’t have bothered me as much and I could have pretended it was part of the hookup culture.

But like... the rape culture... bothers me. Because I think what he did and all men who rape are obviously very very wrong and deserve to be punished. But like I do know that the guys who are convicted of rape... their lives get ruined from it. And for something that I believe I’m strong enough to not let dictate my life (or want to be strong enough not to, not that I know if that is the truth or not), I don’t want to ruin lives. Yet at the same time, I also think that for a lot of rapists who grew up with such a toxic mentality, destroying their life might be the only way to rebuild them. And like... the person who did it to me, if I talk to him of course he seems human. But I do know that his mind is fucked up. It’s so fucked up and I told him this and he ignores it. And like I don’t care if he dies or his life is ruined, but I also don’t like being the one that is responsible. That in itself feels like the guilt of committing a crime...

There’s where I’m at a standstill. In the past, I thought if I were being cheated on, I would want to know, so I would want to tell the wife for sure. But it’s just way too scary to start a hurricane of crazy, for justice that won’t make me feel better. I know I should think of it in terms of will the wife feel better knowing. But in all honesty, I don’t know. I don’t know if she’d the type that would be able to date, because she's pretty bad at getting truly close to people (I mean, me too so no judgment). Especially since they’re so Japanese in everything else, it just feels like they’ll continue to be a couple in name and not in emotions, because that’s how it’s done in Japan.

I didn’t tell anyone any of this because I didn’t want to make it a big deal. But I did want to chronicle this on tumblr or somewhere so that in the future if I do speak up about it, it wasn’t a sudden lie.

Anyways, I guess in summary.

1. I don’t like how people who are raped must be broken.

2. I don’t like how the only justice involves destroying lives, including possibly your own too—especially if I don’t want to consider my life destroyed from rape as it is. 

#rape #rants #my life

[winterscribe]

So I’ve been meaning to work on my Project (still don’t know what to call it and the working names I come up with are awful) It needs outlines and worldbuilding, I need to establish who Avaleara was so I can show exactly how she changed- All that stuff. AND YET all I wanna do right now is imagine time travel shenanigans that land Pre-torture Avaleara and Pre-Avaleara D together in the future where they have been married for like 3000 years. I love the whole idea of “Her? Really?”  “Him? Really?” mutual What the Actual Fuck??? going on.

Rambly run on scenario under the cut-

Like I usually give left hand his own body so he can snark and sass without D shutting him up as easily (fucker knows to make the best comments when he’s out of D’s reach. Doesn’t always dodge the stakes but he can still talk) And plop Avaleara with her siblings (+takashi but really she thinks of him as a brother) So they are all just like soooo confused. Meanwhile i usually give Future Takashi chaperoning duty. Set it up so that “Oh Future D and Avaleara are out of town you’ll have to wait till they get back.”(Avaleara needed to stay in the capitol because suspicious activity, but rode out to an outpost for a few days to gather Intel. D is on another planet in the system attending a conference that Avaleara should have but couldn’t because of aforementioned suspicious activity. Teamwork and Telepathy bitch) This gives the past characters a few days to get to know each other (And get Really Really Confused about how the hell Avaleara and D are spouses) 

Future Takashi explains very little because most of it’s painful for him and all of it really needs to be seen to be believed anyway. Also they decide that they’ll wait a few days after they get back to tell Future D and Avaleara just who Takashi is escorting around because that way they will act natural and maybe the relationship will make sense. (Past D thinks Future D will call Takashi out for hiding something in .5 seconds. He’ll be floored when Future D accepts “I’ll tell you in a few days but for now go with it.” with the absolute unshakable certainty that Takashi would tell him if it was life threatening.)

Anyway so you get Past Avaleara who is like What the Fuck happened to my current boyfriend? Did he die? Amicable break up? Disastrous break up? What the fuck Future Takashi why aren’t you saying anything??? And no offense dude (But also kinda offense cuz you’re kinda an ass) but Who the Hell is this random antisocial jerk from another planet? The Ass can barely be fucked to say more than a sentence at a time, seems bored as hell despite being on another fucking planet, and barely even looks at me? Like you want me to believe this jackass is my husband in the future???? Like aside from the fact I can’t even stand his (lack of) Personality, I’m second in line for the fucking throne,my whole life is built around duty to my people, and while I am free to choose for the most part, any partner I take must be as devoted to my people as I am, has to love them as much as I do. They need to be an example to look up to, someone they can trust and respect. Not some taciturn and intimidating ass who can’t even appreciate the beauty of our world, let alone her people!

Meanwhile D is mostly indifferent. Like nothing is trying to kill him so he ain't gonna kill his way out and apparently all he’s gotta do is wait until they do the math to get him back to his time/planet.  (and hand wavy bs to explain why he believes this is actually happening and not some fucked up psychological attack). Also Clearly this Future Takashi is smoking something there is no way this chick is his wife. Lefty is cracking up at the mere suggestion this clueless idiot is gonna be D’s wife. She's so soft and fragile, from a world where violence hasn’t really been a thing in generations. She’s all innocence and idealism. She tripped and cut her lip and whined about blood in her mouth for an hour for christ’s sake. The only hint of fire was when she got fed up with D’s dismissive attitude and bawled him out, but even then she frigging apologized even though D had been the dick. But noooo she just went on about how it wasn’t Diplomatic of her to lose her temper and that it was only expected that since D was from a culture that valued different things he would dismiss her people as too soft, and while he was wrong she wasn’t going to foster understanding with anger. This chick wouldn’t last 30 seconds on the frontier, let alone be the kind of woman who could be married to a hunter. And that wasn’t even taking into consideration just who D is. If D tried to settle down with this kid Dracula would eat her alive before he allowed his one success to get with a weakling from a pacifist culture and risk pathetic offspring.

So basically Avaleara gets more irritated as the days go by, D remains indifferent, Avaleara’s family is getting really pissed at D because he’s ignoring Avaleara and they are really starting to doubt the likelihood of a happy marriage and Future Takashi is doing all the facepalming and starting to think maybe he should just fucking tell them what happened to Avaleara. Except- how the hell does he break it to them that Avaleara was tortured until she was broken, mind body and soul and the Avaleara that Future D met is an Avaleara that rebuilt her whole identity after horrific trauma and therefore understands him on a level Past Avaleara could never come close to. Oh by the way, the person that tortured Avaleara was in fact Xahros, the man Past Avaleara is completely in love with and who she’s decided must have died because what else would have happened to break them up. (Future Takashi is heartbroken thinking Past Avaleara had this much trust in the bastard but doesn’t realize she settled on that option mostly because Why Else would Future Takashi be so reluctant to talk about it and get such a pained look on his face when she asked. )

Not to mention seeing Past Avaleara is kinda messing up Future Takashi’s head cuz in order to not completely fuck up the universe and kill everyone, all past people MUST forget this ever happened. But that means he has to let Avaleara be tortured, something he would have done Anything to prevent. But anything can not include risking all life in the universe. So future takashi is kinda slowly having a breakdown and trying not to burst into tears every time Avaleara says or does something sweet which is All the Fucking Time. Like seriously Future Avaleara can do gentle and kind, but it takes Effort and underneath is a current of rage and paranoia, ready at any moment to go from calm to murder faster than you can blink. Seeing the difference is tearing Future Takashi apart because after like 5000 years he’d kinda forgotten Just how sweet she used to be and its breaking him all over again. But its also breaking him that everyone is getting pissed at Past D when Future Takashi knows where he’s coming from and he gets it. No, Past Avaleara isn’t the kind of person who D would take as a wife, and D is so fucked up from his whole shitshow life that he’s not really a stop and smell the flowers kinda guy. I mean most of the flowers on his earth try to kill you. It took Future D decades to really appreciate this world and stop expecting it to try and kill him. It took longer to let himself love it and her people. It ends up this weird dynamic in which Future Takashi wants to defend D but doesn’t know how to do so without insulting him so is awkward as fuck but Past Takashi wants to deck D cuz he made past Avaleara Cry (no matter that it was mostly because she’s frustrated with the situation and confused/heartbroken over Xarhos)

So then F-Avaleara gets home first. And sees this tense quagmire that Future Takashi is in the middle of. Except her and D have been separated which means that Avaleara isn’t in the greatest shape. Avaleara’s lingering ptsd means that she has a hell of a time with nightmares. When D is there he can either ease her out of one into a better dream or help her when she wakes up, grounding her and reminding her its just memories. She tries to sleep without him when they are separated but it usually doesn’t work. At this particular point in time, she remembers the last time she tried to sleep when D was away and woke up choking on a piece of her tounge she bit off durring her nightmare. It left her a little fucking spooked so she’s running on no sleep and shitty eating habits cuz she’s distracted. All of that means she sees that Future Takashi is falling apart, recognizes it, but decides that D is due home in two days, they’ll team up and make him sleep then pry the fucking problem out of him together if they have to sit on the stuborn bastard. After all he’d do it for them and turnabout is fair play. Meanwhile she’ll hover around him when usually she’d be avoiding people because she’s too close to that edge.

For a few hours Future Avaleara seems a lot like Past Avaleara. Sure she’s calmer, but hey she’s 6000 years old, she ain’t gonna act like a hyperactive 750 year old. Plus she’s obviously tired. I mean the scar on her face is a little odd since Revanants don’t scar easily but she is a princess, so probably just survived an assasination attempt like her mom? I mean why else would she have a scar, they can only be made deliberately with poison which alters dna making it impossible to heal completely… (Ah the past people are so so innocent)

But she’s calm and kind. Somehow the fight Past Avaleara and D had about how her people were soft is brought up. Future Avaleara explains the war a billion years ago that left half a planet barren, a decision to hold all life sacred, and the responsibility to protect peace so that no one has to fight for their right to live. While it still seems like idealistic nonsense to someone who lives in a world of kill or be killed, there is something about the way This Avaleara says it. Something burning in her words no matter how soft and calmly she says them. (Its the steal core of someone who has fought and bled to keep this peace, who refuses to let it be idealistic nonsense.) D knows his world is hell, its unkind and unjust. His own father is a large part of the reason its so barbaric which is why he is determined to kill him. The years have narrowed his focus to killing Dracula but there was a time before he’d seen too much that he thought maybe the world could be something more, maybe there was a chance if he removed the biggest obstacle. He’d long since buried that thought as he saw humans and vampires alike slaughter each other and their own for petty reasons. But here was a culture founded after cataclysm that brought together different people from different worlds and chose to forge peace. Its a dream he once had but killed to survive. He has to be hard to survive. But these people dont and it’s not a bad thing if its real. D’s still a little dubious about the idea that there are powerful people who actually want to protect and not exploit the less powerful. He’s confused but ultimately not interested since he’s still not fully believing this is going to be his future (Cant believe he has a future that doesn’t revolve around death).

Anyway I’ll post a part 2 in a few days but this is getting long and I have some other work to finish up.

#hmmm #might call this #blood and ash #saw oc centric as a description on smthn and thought it fit #idk #we'll see

[capnyazz-blog]

my right to die or: how i learned to stop worrying and love euthanasia

I rarely post anything personal here, I prefer to re-blog stuff about artistic works and Marxism but I feel like it’s important I get my thoughts out there on this subject: the right to die and mental illness. I will address large issues with America’s relationship with euthanasia as well as how they affect me personally.

American society has a problematic relationship both with it’s views on end of life care and mental illness. It’s at times expected for people to prolong their life as long as possible. Conversations about death are quickly shut up around “polite company.” Sick parents comfort crying children who tell their parents lines about always needing them, that they can’t help but see themselves as the child they once were still needing their parent’s guidance at times, though they themselves could be in their late forties and fifties. This isn’t to say that the loss of a parent isn’t something traumatic to someone, that they aren’t often times losing their most important role-model, but rather this is to highlight the societal pressure which manifests itself in familial expectations on how long someone should live.

A study published in Ageing and Society discussed a survey of 1600 participants with an average age of 42 and a slightly higher than average level of educational achievement found the single largest factor in people answering positively to questions like “do you want to live past 80?” was their expectations on quality of their final years. People who expected to have relatively healthy and financially secure life when reaching 80 years of age wanted to live longer, some past 100 years. Minority raced and people who identify as religious tended to want to live to or past 80.

In order for the average person to reach 80 years old they’ll generally have to receive expensive, and at times, painful, treatment towards the end of their life. American’s spend on average of $316,600 in their lifetime on medicine with half of that money being in their senior years, even more so if they make it past the age of 85.

My family carries a rare gene which triggers Lou Gehrig’s disease. I have seen my grandmother, cousins, great aunts and uncles die a, usually, slow and painful death. In the past 5 years there’s been too many to count, I think like 8 people in total, with more when you look back generations. More of my relatives carry the gene which triggers the disease, but knowing you carry the gene doesn’t tell you if you will develop ALS or when it will hit or how quickly it will take over your body. I do not know if I carry the gene because I cannot be tested unless my mother is, it would be a breach of her privacy for me to be tested. After ALS progresses typically your lungs stop working and you end up suffocating. With modern life support technology you can be kept alive in a conscious though vegetative-like state indefinitely, an option my grandmother, the most stubborn person in all of Minnesota history chose to do for sometime, like three years or so.

Seeing so many people die such a death you would think my family would have developed the skills to speak earnestly and openly about death but that just hasn’t been the case.

There has been a push among healthcare providers to have elderly patients file an advance care directive or living will with them in order to be sure that the health workers and patients are all on the same page as far as end of life care is concerned. A key point missing from many of these conversations is the option of euthanasia or assisted suicide. Currently assisted suicide is only legal in Oregon, Washington, California, Colorado, Vermont, Montana, and D.C. though, the option of withholding healthcare is almost always an option, such as do no resuscitate orders in people’s end of life plans.

Oregon was the first place in the country, and one of first places in the world, to allow doctors to prescribe a lethal amount of a drug, though not deliver the dose themselves to the patient. There is a documentary named How To Die In Oregon which follows an organization which assists people who have chosen to die after being diagnosed with a terminal illness. The film includes interviews with volunteers from the organization, patients, healthcare workers, family of those about to die, and even includes footage of the patients dying.

Belgium may have the most just and fair euthanasia laws in the world. Belgium allows for so called non-terminal patients as well as children to request physician assisted suicide. There are roughly 1400 assisted suicides preformed each year in Belgium for non-terminal (nearly always people suffering from non-treatable mental illness).

The laws and culture of Belgium regarding euthanasia is a great step forward for humanity. There can be no freedom without the freedom to control one’s own death. These laws don’t simply address the ability to have a say in one’s own death but also allows for an honest discussion on quality of life.

Most mental illnesses are treatable diseases that, like other diseases, can be addressed simply and effectively, coming in phases, sometimes for no reason, sometimes triggered by life events. With proper medical treatment the sufferer can find relief, or get their disease treated to a point where it is possible to live a full and fulfilling life despite it, typically with some combination of pharmaceuticals and talk therapy.

Some cases of mental illness are not like this though. Select cases do not come and go as episodes, rather constantly present in a severely debilitating way. My mental health problems are like this.

I have rarely felt happiness in my life. I have suffered from major depression and dysthymia, a combination sometimes called double depression, for my entire life. I do not remember a point in my life where these problems were not present, as far back as one can really remember. Simply waking up and going to school was an unbearable pain and burden my whole childhood. 9th grade year of high school I missed over 100 days of school.

I have used a variety of treatments my whole life. We would try one prescription for a while with little results then either adjust it or move onto the next one. I had pushed a psychiatrist to preform ECT on me when I was around 18 which resulted in my mother and the doctor shouting at each other, completely turning me off of that facility, the largest healthcare provider in the area. Then six months ago after a failed suicide attempt a doctor suggested ECT and we proceeded. For a while I did actually feel something resembling happiness because of the treatment but that faded and I fell back into the same slump I am so used to being in.

I found comfort in partying, never becoming dependent on drugs as others around me did, but had heavy use of them. Starting at 14 or so I had moved on from simply smoking pot to doing cocaine, drinking, smoking meth, nearly every common drug one can think of I put it inside my body. Thankfully though I had the ability to compartmentalize the drug use as simply for partying, while close friends could not. I, at times, feel responsible for two of my childhood best friends drug additions which they still wrestle with years after I introduced them to those particular drugs. For whatever reason I assumed others had the ability to be able to get really fucked up on whatever we had around and be able to walk away from those drugs just as easily. I have had to end those friendships because of the guilt I feel.

Then at 19 things got even worse. I was at a point where I was getting messed up, typically drunk, three or four days a week. I would go out with my friends at 10 pm and wouldn’t stop partying until 7-8 am, get a couple hours of sleep then do it all again the next day. I had been doing this for nearly two years. We lived only a few blocks from my college in a part of the city which was full of students. We had our own little community there, everyone knew everyone, parties almost always had an open door policy so long as you were cool.

It all changed one night where I was drinking with my friends. We were roughly half a block from our apartment, bottles of liquor in hand, it was around 4 am at this point. We see cops approach us and did what we had done so many times before and split and take off running as quickly as possible. We weren’t really concerned with tickets for minor consumption or open bottles, rather simply enjoyed the thrill of running from the cops. For reasons I still don’t know the cop decided to ignore my friends and go for me. They caught up with me tackled me to the ground, through the handcuffs on me in no time at all and proceeded to kick and punch me leaving my whole body badly beaten, bruised, and bloody. Arriving at jail their torture only continued, more beatings, being dragged by my hair. It climaxed when I was being finger printed, all the liquor I had had that night decided it was done being in my stomach, and I ended up throwing up on myself, the finger printing machine, and the cop doing my finger printing. They put me in a choke hold, drug me to my cell, stripped me naked while yelling homophobic slurs at me, and forcibly gave me an anal cavity search. I was not able to sit down for over a week after that.

After leaving jail on bail I prepared a cocktail of drugs, consumed them with a shot of whiskey, turned on some music and waited to drift off. The next day I woke up feeling absolutely awful, with yellow skin, and vomit all over me. This was by no means my first or last suicide attempt.

Thankfully the judge on my case was sympathetic to the abuse I received in custody, as well as respecting my relatively clean police record and was basically given a slap on the wrist.

The whole ordeal left me with PTSD. I cannot be around police. I’ve developed a spidey sense where I can feel when a cop is near and act in a way which will minimize any possibility of interacting with police. I have been on medications since then for treating the nightmares that I have from them, making it easier to sleep through them. I doubt that the PTSD will ever get to a point where I can function normally around police though.

All of this is to say my mental health is fucked. My medical bills have completely destroyed any hope for having a financially secure future. I can sometimes do extremely well in college despite my issues and at times have to drop out because of them. I have never made it more than three consecutive semesters without needing to stop because of my mental health. I haven’t gone more than a few weeks without some form of suicide attempt or self harm since I was nearly 13.

After I finish this post I will be walking to the store to pick up a box of razors and slicing my arms open and hopefully going deep enough to bleed to death. For some reason I have really come to like the idea of killing myself through cutting my wrists, it’s just always been the method I’ve had in mind when dying. I have used other methods, some which are generally more effective than my preferred method, without success.

Many doctors have said that it’s possible I will never live a life resembling normal because of my mental health problems and it’s treatment resistant nature. This is not a life that is worth living. My inability to feel happiness, to get myself out of bed, to feed myself, why is it I’m forced through societal norms to continue this life?

It should be my right to sit down with a doctor and explain the pain I have experienced my whole life, have them review the extensive medical history, and allow me to die in such a way that is painless and allows for me to die surrounded by my friends and family. But because it is not currently possible I am forced to use violent, painful methods to take my own life while I’m alone. I want to be able to close my eyes for the last time after seeing my family in the same room.

I fully understand the consequences of death, that there is no returning, and in my opinion, nothing on the other side. This is fine with me. Please understand that a life like this is not a life worth living and please support local initiatives which help those in deciding what their final moments will be like. Death is a part of life and one the person experiencing it should have total control over.

#me #personal #euthanasia #assisted suicide #death with dignity #mental health #depression #ptsd #suicide

[abigfuckingbully]

Call Out Cancer 1

Call Out Cancer/How I became a ‘stalker’ I knew her for 8 years before we’d ever fucked. We both shared a mutual attraction the entire time we’d known each other but she had a boyfriend the entire time I’d known her so the mutual sexual attraction remained ‘hidden’, as hidden as any sexual attraction could be. People know and notice it but remain committed enough to abstain from acting on the impulse. Only an idiot would hold the belief that it’s untrue that every guy wants to fuck your girlfriend. They almost all want to fuck your girlfriend except maybe people who know and care about you. Because respect for men usually comes with a disinterest in their partner. Unless yr singing “Jesse’s girl” or “My best friends girl” or some pathetic shit like that. It was good timing, I had just cheated on my girlfriend for the third and final time before being exposed. I don’t know how she knew but the girl L, who I slept with called me and as soon as she hung up my girlfriend at the time knew and asked directly, “Did you sleep with L?” I suspected my friend J ratted me out to Remy. I tried breaking up with Remy but she convinced me to continue to be with her. I at that point decided I no longer gave a fuck and though I could eventually let the rotting limb of our relationship fall apart so that I could regain: myself! I was sick of the pressure of having a hot wealthy girlfriend had on my psyche. I was failing to provide for myself and I hated who I was being, being taken care of by a woman who needed me to get my shit together. She loved me but I don’t miss her. Anyways, we broke up. After breaking up/cheating on her and being exposed, I headed back home to live with my Momma. Back in San Jose, where 'C’ who I had known for 8 years and knew wanted to fuck me lived. ’M’ international artist and Instagram phenomena, who I also would later start fucking again, got me 'C’s’ phone number. I made sure to text her as soon as I got in. C I mean. Messaging C was easy for me and she arranged to meet me within the week. I started seeing C. As soon as we slept together she got weird and said that she wanted us to be discrete. That she didn’t like the idea of being open about us being together. I being a pussy at this time, passively agreed to this 'idea’ though I do remember asking 'Why?'She explained that she did break up with 'R’ but 'R’ was still a part of her life and she didn’t want him to be totally aware of 'us.’ I can’t remember whether she wanted to hide it or just not announce it but I shouldn’t have agreed either way. But being squeamish at/around age 22 about conflicts with women, I passively entertained an affirmative to this idea. I should already see I’m being groomed but not enough experience with sketchy/self centered women made me a really naive and “nice” guy. (“You’re so affectionate.” she would say after we fucked. Like caring about who you’re fucking was weird/gay.) I continued sleeping with her regardless, ignoring the important gut feelings that I was going to be fucked over by this person/these people. But I’m 22. I don’t exactly 'get it’. After beginning to fuck her I would have nightmares in her bed. I once had a nightmare where a man appeared suddenly at the foot of this bed. (in a punk house/shed) with an enormous sledge hammer. The lighting was pink/red and as the man lifted the sledge hammer to bash my brains out. I woke up screaming, shot up in her bed, surrounded by three tick infested dogs, the breeds a mystery to me. It was only a few times out before things god bad. I remember being half naked in her bed when she explained to me that her boyfriend was texting. She informed me of the text. “He’s saying that you fetishize women of color.” “What is he even basing that in?” I asked. “Because I’m dating you?” “I don’t know. I don’t agree with it.” This was another point in which I clearly should have fucked off. It’s clear that this guy is desperate to do/say anything out of jealousy to get this girl to stop fucking me. I was a victim of the abuse of call out/cancel culture. Who the fuck could even reason with these people. Their politics were so backwards–they were literally masking personal cowardice in the idea of a progressive politic. The dudes clearly possessive of your pussy and should be addressed. But here I am, an innocent man, suddenly on trial. Are these people retarded? Call out culture wasn’t invented to keep men out of yr ex-gf’s pussy. We continued seeing each other. I don’t know why I didn’t see this as a potential end. But I didn’t. I was clearly committed to the relationship. I mean I knew her for 8 years. She was a 'progressive’. She wouldn’t treat me like fucking dirt. She knows how fucked up it would be… II. One day we met up with each other at her place. She was having a lot of friends over. I knew her friends and I trusted them. They were also 'progressives’ and I felt that would warrant proper treatment. My life would not become a Bush song. Or so I thought. We hung out that day. A walk around San Pedro Square and St. James then out to burritos at La Victoria’s. They were talking food quality. Apparently she was an aficionado. I had hardly ever complained about food so being aware of food quality was low priority. I grew up to poor to give a fuck. I wasn’t going to notice anything that wasn’t inedible. By mid afternoon we met up at her house. She was invited to a show that was going on that day in Oakland but because she was having car trouble she said she wouldn’t be going. So, I, after everyone offered her a ride, and she would deny them, I thought, maybe, I know it’s crazy, that we would keep hanging out. I asked. She said yes. So we started getting settled into her bed, in her shed, the bed I have nightmares in when I stayed/slept over. We were watching Netflix. I can’t remember what but as we were watching she got a text. It was from her ex boyfriend. He was offering her a ride. I understood that her ex boyfriend was going to be a part of her life but I wasn’t cool with being a stand-in on-call for him. She 'asked me’ if it would be okay if she went to the show. I was too ashamed to voice ti at the time but I felt really annoyed that I was expendable and that we just agreed to hang out but now that her boyfriend/ex boyfriend was free, I was disposable. I got ready to leave because it’s not a self respecting position to tell a woman disinterested in you/oblivious to your being that it actually pisses you off that she’s renegging. I left without saying how I really felt. Not because I"m a coward but because the situation didn’t make sense to me until I was separated from it. I explained my feelings about the whole thing in text as I was waiting on the bus bench for the 22. I was getting a sunburn and getting pissed off. That plans with me meant nothing. I told her how I felt respectfully but angry. She didn’t respond well. If I remember right she invalidated my feelings by saying I didn’t have a right to be angry. As if women I fuck determine this right. I said some harsh words, got home, thought about it more,and got even angrier. That’s when I resorted to Facebook messages to explain my feelings. I was even more pissed and less eloquent. The responses to my feelings were vague and hugely political. It wasn’t a political issue. Which is when I realized how often the idea of the personal being political was abused to avoid dealing directly and simply with a relationship issue.(This would be when I realize how rare it is to actually meet a feminist and not a person who used feminism to was their hands of the consequences of their decisions.) (Could never be fully 'feminist’ after this.) (But it gets worse.) She ended up made at ME after I tried to explain how fucked up it is that plans w/ me are dependent on if her ex boyfriend was/is available. She said I was being 'abusive’. I had done nothing but voice my anger and she reiterated that I didn’t have a right to my anger. The browbeating worked. I was young and a feminist so I started to think I was 'overreacting’ and was in the wrong. Even then it was obvious I Was getting the shaft. Next time I saw her I said sorry. She said, “I don’t want to be anyone’s emotional punching bag.” She misused it. As if voicing my anger to a woman was the equivalent of abuse. As soon as my apology came out I realized how fucked up this idea was. No matter how angry I was it seemed that having a spine and not being overly grateful for getting pussy had landed me in a category of 'abusive.’ Even if I had said, “FUCK YOU YOU ARROGANT FUCKING CUNT,” Which I never said, this would still be, to me, within the realm of an okay expression of anger. I never let the awful things women have said to me in anger get me down no matter how bad it got. I would never claim 'abuse.’ I would recognize systemic shit talk or violence as abuse. All other expressions including a woman pitching shit at me was welcome Not because I"m a submissive but because I had seen in my life people spend endless amounts of time trying to be intelligent and articulate about what angered them only to find them wildly unhappy and just as repressed as if they’d said nothing at all. It was a greatly misunderstood virtue to be pissed and just say what you feel/think. People should have the tolerance to be prepared for the worst a human can say and return to normal after a conflict. Especially being fucked with at this point. But I said sorry to her at a restaurant. A jazz club that I am now banned from for something I would do during a literal psychotic break. Fuck Stritch and the cokehead/failing musician who runs it. She was with her friends who were also arrogant enough to forgive me. After this we stopped spending time with each other. I don’t remember what happened or how it happened I was too mad. I had borrowed her Anne Sexton book after sharing the poems I wrote her in my book, 'Dumb Stuttering Free’ that I would plug here but it’s now extinct/out of press, and that was the end of seeing her. I would message her again feeling worse than ever about how this person was treating me. She wouldn’t meet me in person to talk about it. I pressed the issue in FB messages. Nothing would be resolved. Instead I would be banned from the cafe this woman worked at. I’d been writing at that cafe since before she was an employee and I didn’t understand how having sex with someone then pissing them off was grounds to get permanently banned from the space. I knew that if the roles were reversed no one would even give a fuck that I’d fucked this person and there wouldn’t be any issue of 'being in the same space.’ This seemed like something a child would do. III. I got back from my 3 months in New York only meeting Sarah Jean out of the Bunny Rogers, Sarah Jean, Lucy K Shaw, and Gabby Bess I went looking for at Mellow Pages when I went. I lost my mind (literally) and also lost my job stealing from work. I was caught the same day I’d secured my own room as well. So I gave it three months. Now that I was at home again I knew I was going to be in the same town as this bitch for a while. I thought I Would make an effort at friendship/peace again. I still had her boring Anne Sexton book so I went to the cafe people hadn’t informed me officially of being banned from, (again, these people seem oblivious of how to do their own community policing,and I will never trust women again.) I went in with the book to return it and make peace. She 'wasn’t there’ so I went the next day as I was told to by a girl who worked there. Because 'C’ the cunt who gaslights me, would be here the next day. That day I would realize that the bitch had in fact been there yesterday but was too spineless to come upfront so her obese friend 'O’ approached and explained I was banned from the cafe. 'O’ was 'C’s roommate at the punk house she lived at. I have never hated women more. To boycott this treatment, I would visit the cafe during a night of one of their events with the band Wild Moth, friends of mine, playing. I knew it was likely I would get kicked out but I wanted to protest this evil bitch’s treatment of me and her alarmist position–I went early to the show. Her friends who still all liked me were there and we hung out before the show. The bitch who’d accused me of stalking her and had invited me to stick a knife in this bitch’s side, eventually came. Like a crazy person, she sat down, noticed me, then started growling and yelling. She walked huffy into the venue/cafe. Then the band came out. They gave me a friendly treatment. They asked me how I was/how writing was going and didn’t treat me like a stalker. But…they did ultimately explain that I couldn’t go to this show and that I should go to the next one. This was when I stopped supporting them. There’s no reason to be friends with people this spineless. Pandering to the human baby…it was this point that I had stopped being a feminist. That’s how I became a stalker. Other businesses were informed of my behavior. I was despised and lied about throughout my town. That’s how I became a 'stalker.’