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#why did they make these women so fine to be humanizations of cells…
strawberoni · 2 months
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(repost, sorry ahaha)
regulatory t and nk (≧∀≦)
me pairing the baddest btches together because it just makes sense yk… but in all honesty i love them both and their interactions have so much potential I LOVE THE BOTH OF THEM SM… i would make more art of them if i wasn’t shy
CELL YURI 4 LIFE >:3
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valeskakingdom · 2 years
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Home Sweet Home (part 23)
It was like the first day she was sent to Arkham Asylum. Horns were honking loud that everybody could hear the police driving through the city, it was raining so you could hear the raindrops hitting the car's roof, and heavy clouds covered the sun making a full atmosphere. It was like Scarlet relived this day, as if fate has decided it. The only difference was the car and the missing S.W.A.T. team. The cops decided to transport her to Arkham in a simple police car with three cops by her side.
"Isn't it fun, guys?" Scarlet sighed with a smile "It's like I'm reliving the same situation like some time ago. Cops sitting next to me, raining, and we're on our way to Arkham. HAHA." Scarlet was more than amused about this. She actually loved it. Why? Simple answer: Coming back to Arkham means she's got the chance to make new partnerships, she could plan a big breakout again, she could make herself great again.
But the cops didn't answer, they didn't pay attention to her even. They simply ignored her, as if she didn't exist, as if nobody sat in the back of the car - they just kept driving silently, the driver being focused on the street of course. Unlike the other days, the traffic was bustling. Many people decided to drive through Gotham's streets for either just visiting people or driving through the city just to get out of town.
"How's been Arkham since I was gone? Was it boring without me?" Scarlet asked kinda curiously "Or are there some bad guys who rob your last nerves?" She chuckled over her own joke "No but for real, any news? I'm just curious."
But again no one answered. The cop next to her just gave her a weird look that even told her to shut up, which was the only attention she's got.
"Fine then," Scarlet sighed rolling her eyes in annoyance "What about Hugo? He's still the asylums manager? Haven't heard of him in a while." She grinned "I'm about to say I kinda missed that little dwarf. I had some short good old times with him. He saved my life, turned me into a marionette-..."
"Shut up, Patel!" The cop who drove yelled at her that she almost flinched a little. His dark and very loud voice sounded very roaring, which could frighten people - but not Scarlet.
"Hey!" Scarlet pouted "There's no reason to be rude to me!" And again no one said a word to her, there was just an awkward silence "I mean, yeah, I murdered a few people, but I'm still a human being like you."
"Pahaha, you're never like us. Not even in your dreams" Another cop scoffed.
"No? But I'm just a human like you. And you know what? We both have something in common. We both kill people, whether men or women, young or old. The only difference between you and me is that you kill people because they apparently don't fit in your system. I kill people with pleasure and to process feelings I can't handle." Scarlet smirked.
"You're just an untamed beast that needs to be behind bars" The cop muttered.
"Nawww, no need to give me compliments" Scarlet smirked me patted the cop's head "Oh! There's one question I've always wanted to ask you guys. What do you feel when you kill people? Do you feel relief? Happiness? Or nothing?"
"Patel, shut the fuck up or I'll every single bullet in your fucking head!" The driver yelled out loud m. He couldn't take her talking anymore. It was annoying, it was tiresome -she should just shut her goddamn mouth! How could that be so hard?
"Woah, fine. No need to become loud" Scarlet rolled her eyes, leaning back into her seat and looked out of the window, enjoying the little drive.
***
The siren's tone resonated as the cell door opened to the rec room and Scarlet entered it. Everybody looked at her, some in shock, some confused, some hust stared without any thoughts. They just stared at her because everybody else did.
"I'm back bitches!" Scarlet chuckled, throwing her arms in the air and danced around while entering the rec room and seeing some familiar faces "Missed me?"
But no one answered, they all just kept looking.
"Aaron? Is that you?" Scarlet let out a slight laughter in astonishment as she walked towards him. She couldnt believe it. Everyone she was working with, was dead - and Aaron, her little bodyguard in Arkham, was alive? That was... fun? Or amusing? "Wow, you haven't changed at all. How are you?" She took a seat in front of him.
But Aaron Helzinger just kept looking at her, wondering who the fuck in the world talked to him? He didn't recognize her at all, she was formally a stranger to him.
"Remember me? Scarlet" She introduced herself again but still, Aaron couldn't remember her, which made Scarlet sigh in annoyance - how could someone be so dumb? "Remember the crazy redhead who played the boss? I was his little friend"
"Yes!" Aaron nodded, saying it out loud. Oh, he remembered Jerome: The little crazy ginger boy, being all lippy, who thought he could boss everybody around and impress them with his false promises - everybody hated him and feared him because they had no other choice "He was mean to me"
"Oh really?" Scarlet spoke to him as if she spoke to an infant or even a baby "That's so rude. What did he do to you?" She was trying to manipulate him in a pretty easy way. First of all, she sympathized with him more than anything. She acted to be his friend, his shoulder to cry out that he placed his trust in her - and in the next moment, she tried to use him for her own good. Like in Arkham a lady like her wasn't safe, so she needed a bodyguard - and that would be him. In the past she had Jerome so she knew no one would ever dare to lay a finger on her, but now everything was different. She needed safety. There was no guarantee to be safe anymore.
"He used me and treated me like a dog." Aaron told Scarlet.
"Well, good that fucker is dead now, huh?" She chuckled about her sentence - she hated to say that. She would never admit that she missed Jerome, but she did. She missed making plans with him, terrorizing the city together - she just missed his appearance and his stupid acting.
"Yeah" Aaron grinned in response.
"Anyways," Scarlet looked around, then back at Aaron and leaned her head forward to him "You know, it's really dangerous for a girl in Arkham. Would you like to be my friend? Who saves me from the bad?" She gave his the cutest puppy look someone has seen, she widened her eyes and pouted like a little baby.
"Yes" Aaron smiled at her. He found her cute in some way, especially when she looked like that. It let his heart melt a little.
"Great" At the same time, the siren's tone resonated which meant the cell doors opened. Someone had to enter the rec room again. Was it also a new one? Or a guard? Or just a simple inmate who came back from therapy? Or a doctor?
"Scarlet?" You heard a familiar, quite shocked voice say - it was Oswald. He couldn't believe she was here, in a complete negative way. She was his only chance to escape, his only chance to leave Arkham. And now she was here? What happened? How? Why? His hope to flee was gone now. How would they manage it? It would take days, even weeks to make plans, to arrange people, to even get a phone! They had to be careful that the cops wouldn't catch them. They had to be careful that not too many people would become aware of that all because too many people escaping would ruin the plan"W-wha...I don't understand this. What are you doing here?"
"Ossy!" Scarlet cheered walking up to him "Oh, you know, the cops got me. I directly walked into their arms" she shrugged "You know, it was actually pretty fun. I made my way to my old apartment checking it out and then -..."
"You were negligent!" Oswald snapped "Do you know what that means?! We're stuck in here! No one can help us to escape!" He was more than disappointed in her, clearly. She was always telling everybody that she'd be such a professional and that she only works with professionals - but where is her professionalism now?
"Calm down, Ossy," Scarlet rolled her eyes in annoyance "You worry too much ab-..."
"How should I calm down?!" Oswald almost yelled, that even some inmates frightened "We stuck in a jail full of apes and dumbasses! Who do you want to choose as a partner? There's no one, really no one who'd be capable of planning anything! All these people do, is laughing, eating, and being annoying!"
"What you apparently don't know: Arkham is predestined for making new partnerships. Most of the inmates indeed seem not to be really usable, but that's because no one knows how to treat them. You just need to make them feel understanded, maybe even behave like them, too, to become their friend - and then they do everything you want." Scarlet grinned "You see Helzinger? He's one of the guys"
"He's just a bald and dumb. There's no-..."
"Nuh uh uh," Scarlet shushed him "Not so rude Oswald, you might hurt someone's feelings." She smirked "Aaron is more usable than you think. He's a perfect bodyguard. Everyone's scared of him, and he can perfectly start riots if he doesn't get what he wants."
"He's not more usable than a dog" Oswald muttered. He wasn't really impressed of what Scarlet said. He didn't trust her so called plan like does she really think she can find any usable person in this asylum? Never! They're all crazy! They're all dumb!
"Oh he is," Scarlet grinned "Remember the Maniax' first assassin?"
"The one where they killed 7 people by throwing them down from a high building?" Oswald frowned.
"Exactly" it was her favorite of all memories she had with the Maniax when she thought of all the screams, cries and all the fun she had with Jerome "Aaron was the one who threw them all down the building. He was our bodyguard in here, he always took a look of me when Jerome wasn't around."
"He could be a good Butch exchange." Oswald said thinking "So Aaron does everything we want?"
"He does everything I want. Don't know about you." Scarlet shrugged "He needs to like someone before he does what the other wants."
"I'm sure that would be no problem" Oswald smirked, he already had ideas how to somewhat train Aaron that he would turn into his butler, as well. He'd pretend to be his friend, he would act like his friend, he would promise him several things - and boom, Aaron would be his little Butch.
"We'll see." Scarlet grinned.
***
Some time went by and Scarlet, Oswald and Aaron sat on a table with some others - quiet, bored, either staring at any point in the rec room or playing with their own fingers. It became boring in Arkham. No one said a word, everyone just stared at certain points, nibbled on their fingernails or lower lips, or randomly stood in the middle of the room.
"Wow, almost forgot how boring it sometimes could be in here" Scarlet sighed letting herself fall on the table plate that she stared at the wall. She had no clue what to do right now. She had no motivation to think of any plans, she had no motivation to play stupid games with other inmates or the guards, she had no motivation for anything - not even for a silly joke "Anyone can tell me a joke? I'm bored!"
"I guess, no one's in the mood to tell any stupid jokes, Scarlet" Oswald sighed, being a little annoyed. He wasn't annoyed of her, he was annoyed that there was nothing to do. He had the same problem like Scarlet - pure boredom. It was horrible.
"Woah, no reason to be sassy, Mr. Penguin" Scarlet rolled her eyes annoyed "Just wanted to lighten your mood up"
"No one asked for that, though" Oswald snapped.
"Seems like someone's in a bad mood" Scarlet sang playfully and stood up. She decided to make her way to the entrance to talk to the guards - maybe they were in a better mood than Oswald.
"Hey guys," Scarlet smirked, leaning against the grid "And? How's life? Any news?" But the guards didn't answer her, they just gave each other a questioning look with a slight frown and looked back at Scarlet. Was that crazy kid really talking to them? Pfft, she can talk with the other crazy mates but not with them.
"Isn't that boring for you just standing there for 8 hours and watch crazy people how they do nothing? Like be honest with me. Even I know that it's totally boring." She said "You can't tell me it's fun." But again they didn't say a single word. They just looking at her.
"Hey what about we play a little game? I tell a riddle and you need to guess the answer. The winner can tell another riddle. I'll go fir-..."
"There's no time for any stupid games, Patel" Some other guards came across and walked right in her direction "Dr. Strange wants to see you"
"Dr. Strange," Scarlet said thinking, she knew that name. As far as she could remember, Dr. Strange was was a tiny and baldy Asian guy who saved her life from a bullet in her stomach - and who implanted a chip in her head to control her "Oh! The baldy guy who tried to control me over a chip! I'm glad about that! It's time to finally talk!"
You heard the horns honking again as the cell door opened, the guards grabbed Scarlet by her arms, tied her arms up and lead her to the office of the oh so famous Dr. Hugo Strange.
They went along the floor to a, let's say hidden elevator at the end of it, entered it and drove down to the cellar. Scarlet was somewhat excited to see Strange again. Last time, they just had a short pleasure - and now they had time to talk.
They all went along a dark long floor until they reached a red steel door. This was the door to Dr. Strange's office.
"Sir?" One of the guards said after knocking on the certain door a few times "Patient C156 is ready for her appointment"
"Come in" you heard a voice saying from behind the door - Hugo Strange of course. He seemed to be quite excited to see Scarlet. Maybe he had sone things in mind doing with her? Maybe new plans? New experiments? Who knows?
The guards opened the door, you could see Hugo Strange sitting behind his desk with a slight smile on his face, folding his hands. He expected her coming more than anything. He was glad she didn't resist to come like some others. 
"Here we are, Hugo Strange, once again as lively as ever." Scarlet smirked, strolling over to the seat in front of him "Long time no see. How are you?"
"Scarlet," Hugo Strange slightly smiled "I'm glad you came without any impediments. Some inmates have gone wild lately, it would be a pitty otherwise, wouldn't it?"
"Surely it would," Scarlet crossed her legs with a smile "Ah, I remember last time I was in Arkham and you implanted a chip in my head to control me." She let out a slight laughter, but then her face lost all expressions "Do it again and I kill you right here"
"I do not intend to do that. I've learned my lesson" He was lying, he did not. This time he had even more plans with her but these were top secret.
"You better," Scarlet muttered crossing her arms "Anyways, I figured some things changed while I was out?"
"Indeed, we detected new methods to treat criminals much better than before. The test scores were marvelous. We performed much better than before." Hugo Strange explained, he wanted to make Scarlet fell comfortable in his near that she would forget about the past. It should seem as if they were a team since years "We have the others better under control, much less riots, violence and death in here."
"What kind of therapy is that?" Scarlet asked curiously, she was interested in it. What therapy would you use to control people? Hypnosis maybe? If yes, in what way though? None of the inmates would ever just simply sit there and listen to any therapist's words.
"Electroshock therapy." Hugo Strange simply answered "It's for the...uhm... special kind of people to treat them. It seems to be the right way to get them same."
"Let me think, since your last attempt to control me failed, you try it that way." Scarlet gave him a devilish smile. She knew Hugo Strange wouldn't want to talk to her without a reason, he had something in mind. She just didnt know what it was.
"Nah, you get the usual treatment." Hugo Strange folded his hands.
"Why? Am I not special enough for the treatment?" Scarlet frowned, giving him a sarcastic smile. How could she not? She at least was one of the most dangerous criminals in Gotham, the most cleverest and the most famous one. She was a master mind.
"The word 'special' has many meanings. It can mean being a master mind like you, it can mean being chaotic like Jerome or being a little dense if you understand."
"Oh, I see," Scarlet nodded, she understood it immediately "You hope to activate the brain cells in the dumb people." Scarlet chuckled and leaned back into the chair "So what's in for me? Why did you want to talk to me?"
"You're truly a master mind, Scarlet. Who would not want to have the honor to analyze your mind?" Hugo Strange smiled, kind if awkwardly. He tried to manipulate her, obviously. He wanted to let her believe she was the star in the show, she was the special thing Dr. Strange needed.
"But why? If you work with the police, I politely decline. I don't wanna help the police with catching my colleagues because you analyze the mind of a murderer." She didnt want to be the one who helped them all. For that her reputation was way too good.
"I don't work for the police-..."
"Still, whatever goes through my head, stays in my head" Scarlet stood up "So I politely decline. And now excuse me, my back hurts from all the sitting. I need a massage."
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spacecadetspe · 1 month
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A snippet from last year…
Apr. 3, 2023
It feels like everything came together properly last night.
Had a great cathartic cry in the morning, had a home-cooked breakfast, went to the fair with my two favorite people in the world, took W back to his father, then went home and made ceviche and southwestern-style potatoes and watched anime with Fortitude until bedtime.
And then we got to work. The Forge has been repaired. I called Zoe, Phobetor, and Morpheus, and then called Patience's star, Amitabha, to meet us with his associates at Muspelheim.
The Captain of Surtr's Guard met me in a crushing hug and swung me around like a ragdoll (I do love the Jotnar so!) and led us into the Forge. After awhile, he murmured that we were getting close to Patience's cell.
"How can you tell?" Morpheus asked.
I rubbed my jaw. "It makes me want to clench my teeth," I replied.
The Captain nodded. "The gravity has changed."
Morpheus hummed and gestured at me. "I must be spending too much time around her; I can hardly feel it."
"It's not pleasant," I mumbled.
Patience's cell has a door four layers thick, with warding on top. Nobody was taking any chances with him, and that's fair. The menfolk all looked at me to make sure I wouldn't need an escort, but I knew I could do this on my own. The Captain let me in, and then warded the door behind me.
Patience and C were both curled up in the far corner of the room, and glared daggers at me when I entered.
"What do you want?" he growled.
I got straight to the point. "Father wants to know if you're still set on being the Virtue of Patience."
He raised his head a bit. "Why would that be a concern?"
I threw up my hands. "I don't know, John," I said, using his human name. "Maybe because you're at sixty wings and you haven't leveled up in awhile. You've been waffling so long He's not sure you're a good fit."
He finally turned his glare away. "It wasn't the most pressing thing at the time."
"Your identity isn't the most important thing?" I asked, rhetorically. "And you seriously wonder why he's testing you?"
C picked her head up. "All this was a fucking test?" she asked.
"That's the rumor."
"But why did it have to be me?" she cried.
I countered easily. "Your patron is the embodiment of death, honey. Did you think he was going to make an exception for you when it came to doing his job? And I know you didn't think to ask him about what you could learn from this, did you?"
A low, matter-of-fact voice spoke up. "Did you think it was only just you?" I turned and saw Thanatos leaned against the opposite corner of the room from them, to my left. "Shall I show you all the women and children who've lost their lives over the eons because they miscarried?"
C lowered her head. "I'd... rather you didn't."
"I figured," he said with a nod. "But you're acting like you're alone in this, and you're pushing away any attempt at comfort or camaraderie."
I folded my arms. "I saved your husband's soul three times. And you want to push away all Hope because you wanted to be mad and blame someone else for what happened to you. Every olive branch I have extended got slapped back in my face. It's come to the point where Sinmara out there has had to patch me up twice because of all the betrayals I've gone through." I lifted my shirt to show them the glowing runic stitches on my abdomen. "You might be the heart of the universe, C, but you are still just one person. And you're affecting billions of people because you can't stop hiding behind your own trauma." I cocked my head. "Not the smartest choice you could've made. But you know what?" I dropped my hands. "Fine. This is the last time I save your ass."
Patience snorted. "Why do you care?"
I paused, mostly for effect. "I have loved you since the day we met," I said. "I have always cared, and I've never stopped. Not even when I have my own shit to deal with. It never occurred to you that I didn't want you to bear my burdens, did it? It didn't occur to you that running the Dream World is nobody's picnic, and I'm doing that mostly on my own. You get all the fun reports of my adventures, but I don't tell you about the breakdowns, the revolutions, the rebellions, and the nastiness I have to put up with. And by the way, even though I've saved your ass three times, I have never had flaming debris raining down on two of the worlds I supervise because that's how destructive you got!"
I took a breath, and Thanatos patted my shoulder.
Finally, I let my shoulder relax. "So... I'll give you until the end of the year. Then I'll need to see if you're still Virtue material."
"And what if I'm not?" he asked
I shrugged. "That's fine. That's your choice. We'll find someone else to fill the role."
Patience looked at C. "But... she's my wife."
I shrugged again. "So? You're not guiding her. You're not letting any of your guides help you. If you're not going to do it, someone else has to pick up the slack."
"Well... what about me?" he stammered.
"It depends," I replied. "We don't have to be friends. But if you stand against me... if you get in my way... if you try to tear down all that I have built..." I lowered my gaze at him. "I will kill you."
"Seems a bit harsh..."
"Harsh?" I yelled. "You destroyed the both the Forge and the infirmary! The occupants of Muspelheim evacuated to the Dream World because of this!" I pressed my hands together. "We were friends once, so I'll ask you only once; do not fall back into depravity, or I will treat you like a threat. I have three hundred wings. You have sixty. You won't stand a ghost of a chance."
And I left them. I nodded to Phobetor and Morpheus to begin, and the Captain shut them in. I'll need to check on them sometime today. I hope they are all right, after that. They were working with at least four astral guides last night. They're probably exhausted.
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hawleydominguez9 · 2 years
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lokisprettygirl · 3 years
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Love is selfless, it's kind (loki x female reader, loki x oc)
Summary : You help loki in the confectionery aisle at the store you work at, confused and wondering what to buy for his girlfriend.
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He was dressed up in a fancy midgardian, black suit with white shirt underneath as he came to pick up his girlfriend at her apartment for Thor's birthday , he have a girlfriend now. He smiles as he reminiscent about his time with Carla, his angel. It's been a year since they both met and little over 6 months since they were in a relationship and even though it hasn't been that long as per midgardian standards, he was happy about having someone in his life. They didn't live together, he asked her countless times to live with himself at the tower but she would always refuse saying how it was too soon or not the right time. He understood and he wanted to be patient with her. He rang the bell as his mind drifted towards how they met.
She worked in legal and she was one of those people who helped him clear his name from the infamous attack on the new york . In the beginning, loki was villanized and he was the devil that walked upon the earth, not that he felt otherwise. But slowly when the truth about Thanos and tesseract came out, people started to realise that he was the victim of the circumstances. Not that it changed anything, he had to go through alot of legal proceedings and oppositions over it. Sometimes he wondered if he should have just spent rest of his life in asgard's cell. But then he met Carla and she changed his life. Clint always said how loki fell for the first human woman who showed him a little bit of kindness. But he didn't care about anything, he enjoyed her company and she didn't think he was a monster atleast when he was like this.
"Loki? Loki hello?" He snaps out of his thoughts as he heard Carla's voice "hey I apologise for being lost, if its any consolation I was thinking about you only" he laughs a little and steps forward to kiss her "what are you doing here loki?" She seems annoyed? Why would she be annoyed ? Did she not want to see him ? "I told you about Thor's birthday right? He asks her as panic flash through his face , did he forget to text her, was the text not sent? He is still figuring out the ins and outs of midgardian communication device.
"Oh right damn, I can't go loki ,I'm on my periods, 1st day, you know how bad it gets for me so I don't think I would be able to go" she said and groaned. She was in pain "oh okay, what do you need angel , I'll stay and we can do whatever you like" he smiles as he rubs his hands over her tummy "does it hurt bad? What can I do?" He asks softly.
"Yes it hurts loki, what do you think?" She says, irritation visible on her face. This period thing was really bad for midgardian women, Carla never complained about it before so it must be really bad for her to be reacting this way, he wished he could take away her pain right now. "Just let me relax and I'll be fine okay? You should go to the party , it's your brother's birthday" he hears her and objects "I can stay angel, don't worry about the party" he says softly as he proceeds to step inside "just let me stay in quiet and peace loki, please? I'm cranky and I don't want to hurt you or anything, so I'll see you tomorrow I promise?" Loki was hurt by her behaviour but her hormones must be driving her crazy right now. He wanted her to make her feel better
"Okay fine I'll go, but if you need me just call me okay? On the cellular device" he says softly, and kisses her forehead then her nose and then her lips. "Yeah ofcourse and stop saying cellular device for god's sake" she tells him and almost rushes him out of the door "well let me know how the party goes or if something interesting happens okay? See you" she slams the door before he could say anything. Loki was used to being dismissed alot, sometimes she was like this but then she would apologise and everything got better. She was extra cranky today, must be her womanly issue bothering her. As much as loki wanted to go to the party he wanted to make her feel better. So he researched about what he can do to make her happy and relaxed and that brought him to the nearest store by her house. He went inside and started looking for chocolates and ice creams but there were so many varieties, so many flavours. How would he choose, he was so confused. He looked like a headless chicken. A dapper headless chicken.
"Do you need help sir?" You ask him as you approach him staring mindlessly at everything in the confectionery aisle "uhh yes please, thank you kind lady, I was losing my head here for a bit" he chuckles and gives her a soft smile. He sounded British? "No worries, I can see why you would be, it's kind of terrifying" you laugh a little. You looked at him as he turned his head towards you. He was strikingly good looking, and had the prettiest eyes you have ever seen. He also looked very familiar. "Can I ask you to do a favor for me miss?" He asks politely and smiles. This midgardian woman was nice to him, not that everyone treated him horribly but there were still people who didn't care about the fact that he was a victim too. "Yes sir, that's what I'm here for, I work here" you show him your name tag and he reads your name "Y/n, that's a beautiful name you have"
He says to you and you blush, it wasn't often when you received compliment about anything especially at your workplace. "My beloved is going through her womanly time. So I kind of wanted to surprise her with gifts and just help her feel better. But honestly I have no idea what to get her. Can you help me out?" He asks you and ofcourse he is taken, I mean look at him. The lucky woman though. "Sure you know what let me prepare a gift basket for you, now I don't know anything about what she likes so can you help me out a bit?" You smile
"Sure actually I have seen her relishing in those , little peanuts chocolate stuff. I'm sorry I can't remember the name" he smiles nervously "uhh I think I know what you mean sir" he was talking about resse's. "You can call me loki, sweet lady" he says to you and you blush again. He thinks you're sweet. No stop he's literally making you buy gift for the girlfriend he very much loves. And he's loki that's why he looked so familiar. You have seen him on news and stuff. "Ahh okay loki, just give me 5 minutes I'll arrange your basket" you picked up the assigned gift basket and started filling it with different types of dark chocolates and of course Reese's. He was following you around like a puppy, watching everything.
"I am adding some savoury snacks too we love that during our periods" you giggle and he smiles "sir, umm loki , would you like to buy ice creams? I'm afraid it would melt a little bit " you ask him "oh don't worry about it y/n, I kind of have an arrangement for that" he was so soft spoken, as if everything he said was laced with honey. "Cool, no pun intended"
Loki picks up an additional box of chocolates and walks towards the checkout counter with you. "Sheila can you check this out then I'll wrap it " you ask your coworker and her eyes almost widens as she looks at him. So you weren't the only one who found him extremely handsome. good to know "and this too" he hands over the box to her. The lucky lady he was with is in for a treat. After she's done, she prints out the bill and hand it over to you, and you both walk towards the counter where they kept gift wrappers etc.. Loki watches in awe as you work with dedication. You were really focused and you made the basket look very beautiful. Carla would love it. "There you go loki, all done"
You give him the basket and he admires it as if it was a piece of valuable art "oh I'm sorry did you want to include this too? I can wrap it separately if you like ?" You ask him as you look at the box he was holding in his other hand "no actually that's for you, you know as a thank you for being so kind and helpful" he lifts his hand up so you can take it "I appreciate it loki but I was just doing my job you know" you say politely and he smiles "I know, but you really helped me in need, just think of it as a token of appreciation" now how do you say no to that face and that voice, well you don't. When a god offers you a box of chocolates, you take it. "thank you loki, this is actually my favourite" you smile and he returns it.
"It was lovely meeting you sweet lady. Good night" he turns around to leave and you look at the box of chocolates he gave you. Stop staring at him like a creep, he's taken and he's a god , like totally from another planet. Loki kept the gift basket in the passenger seat as he drove towards Carla's house. It looked really beautiful, you did a really good job and you were so helpful to him. Even after he told you his name, your behaviour stayed the same, you didn't judge him and he smiled as he thought about that kind gesture. When he reached Carla's house, he parked the car in the driveway. And took the gift basket.
As he reached towards the door of her apartment ,he could hear her giggling. Maybe she was feeling better. He rung the doorbell and waited for her to answer. He was nervous, why was he nervous, she was going to love this. "Ooh pizza is here love" he heard her voice before she opened the door. Love? When she finally opened the door, she seemed shocked and pale as if she has seen a ghost "lokiii uhh what umm what are you doing here?" She stutters and he just knew.he just knew what was happening. He might have been too attached to her, he might have cared about her and he might even have loved her but he wasn't a damn fool. She was cheating on him.
He stepped inside her apartment, and there it was, another man, half naked on her couch. The couch they both made love on several times before. He was even wearing one of his shirts. "So periods huh?" He was furious, he was angry but more than that he was absolutely heartbroken. How could she do this to him, but then what did he expect? Did he really think a successful beautiful woman like her would see a future with him "loki look I can uhh explain..it's not" he turns to look at her and she stops talking "explain then , tell me that you're not betraying me, that you're not cheating on me with this oaf, tell me that you have not been unfaithful and I'll believe you, so tell me " his eyes tears up and his voice cracks as he yells out his frustration, maybe he misunderstood, maybe nothing is happening here. Just maybe for once he would have someone to love unconditionally.
"I just , look I didn't want to cheat on you but it happened. These things they just happen sometimes, I wouldn't expect you to understand that loki. But after you showed me your real self you know who you really are, I have just not been comfortable around you, I wanted to tell you that but I didn't want to hurt you" Loki's hearts breaks even further as he heard her confession. She was scared of his frost giant form. She was scared of his real self, he should have known better than this , he really thought he would be accepted when he looked like a monster.
"You are scared of me" his voice comes out broken as he admits it to her and himself. "I just don't feel safe around you and with your past and everything" she stops as she looks at his face "just go"
He looks down at the gift basket he held in his hand and shoved it in her hand "enjoy this with your new man" he walks out and slammed the door shut which makes her flinch. He comes back few seconds later and she turns around, afraid that he might attack her but he just takes the basket away from her "you know what, you don't deserve this , a sweet lady prepared this and worked very hard on it and you don't deserve any of this" he leaves and takes the basket away from her. He couldn't blame her for cheating on him, she was scared of him, scared of the monster he was, the monster he'll always be. Loki drove towards the store to return the basket, he couldn't even look at it anymore. Clint was right, he fell for the first woman who showed him a little bit of kindness. He should have listened, he should have known that he will never be loved. When he reached the store , he went inside and looked for you.
When your eyes fell upon him, you felt happy? To see him. There was no denying you were attracted to him but he looked different, he looked disheveled as if he had been crying . He approached you and you smiled at him but he didn't return it this time. "Can I return this?" He asks you , but he didn't look at you. He was looking everywhere else but you "umm what happened did she not like it? I'm sorry sir but we don't take back edibles, store policy" you tell him politely. "Well apparently I'm on my periods was the code for I'm cheating on you behind your back" he says and you heard how sad he was. Your heart felt for him , you have been cheated on before and it's the worst feeling ever. Besides why would someone even cheat on him, he was everything you could hope for in a man, atleast from a shallow perspective, and most people cheat for shallow reasons. You take a step towards him and take the basket away from him "I'm so sorry about that, you don't deserve that, nobody does, I'm sorry you're feeling what you're feeling right now but trust me this will get better, I promise it will" you say softly and he looks up at you for a second. He instantly wipes the tear that was going to fall from his eyes and give you a smile "just keep it, I don't need my money back or anything, thank you for everything y/n"
He looks at you one last time before he turns around to leave. You didn't know what you could have done for him, you just met the guy, there was nothing you could have done. A week after you first met him, you waited for him to come back around maybe, but why would he , he only came to buy gifts for his girlfriend. And this place probably reminds him about what happened. A bad memory, your eyes still looked for him sometimes but he was never there ..untill one day he was.
Part 2
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demonslayedher · 3 years
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How Does Eating Humans Work?
Hello, Gotou here. We’re shamelessly borrowing from the format of a KnY Fanbook #2 comic to launch an investigation into demon metabolism and development by crossing the Sanzu River again to interview demons in the underworld. While we’ll be using canon materials as a base, the analysis and conjecture herein is personal, so we ask for your understanding. Also, please note that consuming any food in the underworld will make you unable to return, and we cannot promise your safety even though the interview subjects are dead, so please come along at your own risk.
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Some of the questions we’d like to answer are, why do demons need to eat humans? How much do they need to eat to survive? Are there factors that influence how eating humans makes them stronger? If they don’t want to kill humans, what are their other options? We’ve rounded up some special guests below the cut (hidden for length and grossness), everyone from the lowly Temple Demon to the lovely Tamayo, to see what their actions in canon might tell us.
First, a review of what canon tells us, mostly as summarized in Fanbook #2: 1. With one exception named Yushirou, all demons were created by Kibutsuji Muzan, for his own purposes. They all have some amount of his blood, and can be divided into four classes depending on how powerful they are. From top to bottom, the Upper Moons, the Lower Moons, demons with special abilities, and other demons without any special characteristics. 2. Demons may be stronger depending on how much of Kibutsuji Muzan’s blood they have. Most beings’ cannot handle a large amount of his blood, and it will rupture the cells and that being will die, but there are demons who adapt well to it. 3. Typically, sunlight is the only way to kill a demon, by either bathing them in sunlight or cutting of their head with a Nichirin blade. However, there are powerful demons for whom chopping off their head does not work, and if it’s strong enough, demons can also be killed by wisteria poison.
4. Demons eat human blood and flesh. The more they eat, the stronger they become, and the faster their regenerative abilities become. Some humans have “Marechi,” a rare blood type, which is especially nutritious to demons, and eating one Marechi is the equivalent of eating several humans.
That’s an interesting thing we’d like to come back to, especially since we’re looking for quantitative information about how demons gain nutrition (though I have my doubts we'll get enough for statistical analysis). As an interesting note, Fanbook #2 also tells us that if demons try to consume the same edibles humans do, they’ll vomit it back up.
I’m told that Miss Tamayo drinks tea, though. That’ll be an interesting question for later. In my notes, it seems she’s also explained to Tanjirou back in Chapter 15 that demons will normally go berserk if they go a long time without consuming any blood or flesh. Berserk is one thing, but I wonder if they can starve to death? We’ll see if these canon clues will lead us to anything. We’ll begin now in an interview format. Hopefully this will go smoothly, but I’ve got a feeling it won’t. First up, we’ve the Temple Demon.
Temple: Who were you calling ‘lowly’ just now? Up there, above the cut?
Gotou: That was in a literal sense, not having Blood Techniques means you’re in the bottom common tier of demons.
Temple: Argh. Fine. What do you want to know?
Gotou: In Chapter 2, you were spotted with three human victims. However, it seems you left their bodies mostly intact and only ate small parts instead of consuming one full human at a time. Could you comment on this?
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Temple: I’d have gotten to more later if that whelp with the strong legs didn’t interrupt me! Who’s got time to eat entire humans anyway? I went for the easy stuff first.
Gotou: I see. It appears you might had focused on key organs, like the heart and the liver. Would you say these are especially nutritionally dense?
Temple: I guess. If I’m going to eat humans, I’m going to start with what’s worth bothering to digest. Blood’s easier on the stomach, so that’s what I was busy with on the lady there.
Gotou: Then it takes effort to digest? Hmm. Let’s come back to this later. How many humans would you say you consumed, including these three?
Temple: Not a lot… I tried to get a variety so I could get stronger faster, but…
Gotou: I’ll put down a guess as ten or less. Let’s move on to someone who has a sharper memory for numbers. One of our longer-lived guests at Mt. Fujikasane for 47 years, the Hand Demon. While most of the demons on the mountain had only eaten two or three humans, you’ve eaten a whole 50 of the children who headed into the Final Selection, didn’t you?
Hand: Yes, that’s right. It was hard at first since I wasn’t very strong, and the demons usually all went crazy there eating each other, just like that one brat who got away in Chapter 7 said. If you could manage to kill any of the kids, you had the other demons to fight off to even get a piece to yourself. That was enough to get me by, and stronger, little by little. Your body learns to make your meals last, and make the most of what you can get. I usually only had a bite of one child a year, can you imagine how horrible that was? Most demons who survive usually figure out some way to develop and survive better, and once my cells found something that worked for me, I kept doing it. I got really good at snatching away prey from other demons, and soon enough I was a bigger threat than any of them. None of them could, you might say, lay a hand on me.
Gotou: That’s an interesting point about self-development. A demon named Nezuko was spent two years doing that in her sleep.
Hand: She must have had a big meal before that!
Gotou: Well, anyway. It seems that in near starving conditions, your metabolism made the most of what you had, leading to the most efficient use of whatever food was available to you.
Hand: That’s right, I got really good at it. Wasn’t always pretty, but I made it work. I got to a point where I could go two years without eating and still keep my wits about me while the other demons were going mad. But I chose to eat. I liked to keep my appetite for specific children.
Gotou: That smile is not reassuring. Some humans taste better than others, I guess?
Hand: That’s for sure. This one kid tasted awful, like rust and man sweat! I still don’t have that disgusting taste out of my mouth! But he was one of my more satisfying meals, so I ate more of him.
Gotou: Then why would you… nevermind, I don’t like that smile, no further questions. While I had hoped to keep these interviews focused on quantities of humans consumed, it does seem personal taste is worth asking about. I had tried to invite a Swamp Demon from Chapter 11, but it kept arguing with itself and it felt like I’d be wasting my time. The one definite thing I learned was that this demon is picky, with a distinct preference for 16-year-old girls. Based on the number of trinkets he kept, it seems he had consumed at least seventeen of them, including several in one town. Sheesh, that’s sort of a rough mission to send a first-timer on. I’ve got a more cooperative guest here to discuss her tastes, a Snake Demon who, according to Chapter 188, has a special taste for baby flesh.
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Snake: Thank you for having me here. It’s good to be appreciated again.
Gotou: Did you only eat babies?
Snake: Goodness, no. Babies are delicious, but they aren’t very nutritious. And their skulls certainly aren’t that big, the ones I lounged around with were from the people whom I killed and stole from. But you know the nice thing about baby skulls? They’re still soft. They take a long time to digest, but I can swallow them whole.
Gotou: Like… like a snake, then. Sorry, I’m a little ill hearing that. Let’s back up, were all those skulls the remains of adults you ate, then?
Snake: Meh, I ate some of them of better-looking ones, but most of them I only killed. I could usually kill a lot more at a time than I could bother eating, my killing record was fifty women all at once.
Gotou: And you didn’t find that wasteful?
Snake: Wasteful? Not at all. I wasn’t exactly in dire straits, I lived a more luxurious life than most demons do. That meant I could afford to wait for a truly delicious meal, like how you humans might leave something in a slow-cooker to enjoy the perfect combination of doneness and tenderness, plated in the most appetizing of ways.
Gotou: I guess demons and humans are similar in that regard.
Snake: I’m so glad you can relate! Then you understand the frustration of a meal you’ve be preparing for years opening up the slow-cooker and running away right when they were just about done.
Gotou: I have never had that experience.
Snake: I’ll get you, my pretty. And your little snake, too.
Gotou: I think we might have gotten a little off-topic here. It does seem digesting humans comes with some difficulty. I’d like to invite the Drum Demon in next. Your name is Kyougai, I hear?
Kyougai: !!
Gotou: Kyogai, right?
Kyougai: You’ve heard of me! You know my name!
Gotou: I happened to, yes.
Kyougai: What have you heard???
Gotou: That you were kicked out of the Lower Moons for being unable to consume enough humans.
Kyougai: Oh. ……..yeah, that’s me.
Gotou: I thought demons go berserk if they go a long time without consuming humans. Wouldn’t that make an inability to consume them problematic?
Kyougai: It wasn’t that I couldn’t eat them! Like I said in Chapter 24, I had to in order to sustain myself, just like any other demon. But, at some point, I couldn’t eat as much as I used to. That happens to humans too, doesn’t it? When you just can’t stomach anymore?
Gotou: You mean like when you’ve overeaten? In a human’s case that feeling may go away within a few hours.
Kyougai: Sort of like that, but you know, humans reach a time when nothing is appetizing or the thought of eating makes them feel sick, right? Isn’t that the human condition?
Gotou: …uh… maybe if they have a medical condition? Or anxiety? Do demons get anxiety? Or eating disorders?
Kyougai: I… I don’t know. I just wasn’t good enough.
Gotou: I think it’s plenty good if you stopped eating humans. Though to have developed Blood Techniques and been a Lower Moon in the first place, you must had eaten a great number of them.
Kyougai: You think I’m great?
Gotou: What?
Kyougai: No, sorry, I was getting ahead of myself. It’s true, I used to be able to eat as many as the other Lower Moons always consumed. Our stomachs were stronger, you might say. Demons got strong by eating humans, and then the more you did that the better you usually got at it, so the strong ones would eat more and more and keep getting stronger and stronger. At least, that’s how it usually worked. I’ve seen other demons below me reached that point too, where they feel the drive to eat, but then they have trouble digesting it for a long time, so they don’t wind up eating that many people.
Gotou: Then it would make sense to eat the most nutritionally dense parts first.
Kyougai: Or a Marechi.
Gotou: Yes, or a Marechi.
Kyougai: It was a great idea, wasn’t it?
Gotou: I cannot condone any consumption of humans as a good idea.
Kyougai: I knew it. I’m nothing. Go ahead, stomp all over everything I ever tried to accomplish.
Gotou: I think I’m going to move on to my next interviewee now. It looks like we’ve got… oh, would you look at this? Lower Moon One. Enmu, I believe.
Enmu: You can believe whatever you want. I’m happy to help.
Gotou: I don’t need any help, thanks. I’m curious, since you were one of the stronger demons out there, it seems you had a stronger capacity for consuming humans.
Enmu: I did, I was always careful and paced myself so the Demon Slayers wouldn’t notice me. I took my time. I liked to enjoy e-e-e-a-c-h one.
Gotou: Then you had tastes too? Like babies, or 16-year-old girls?
Enmu: I could season any human to my liking. They’re all very easy to prepare.
Gotou: I’m still trying to get quantitative data. Can you tell me at least a rough estimate of how many humans you consumed?
Enmu: I told this more precisely to that boy with the earrings back in Chapter 59, and I can tell you this too. At my best, I could had eaten over two-hundred people at once if I took my time.
Gotou: OH MY GAW----sorry, I dropped my pen. Two hundred, at once?
Enmu: Yes. If I had just. Had. A little. More. Time.
Gotou: Clearly there is a huge difference between what common demons are capable of and what the Twelve Moons are capable of.
Daki: Psh, those were all any random common people. That’s nothing to brag about.
Gotou: Excuse me, and you are?
Daki: Daki, Upper Moon Six. You want something really impressive, you talk to the Upper Moons.
Gotou: I’m sorry, I don’t see you on my list.
Daki: What! Your list is stupid. Look me in the eyes, I’m Upper Moon Six!
Gotou: Very well, then. What can you tell me about your diet, Miss Upper Moon Six?
Daki: That’s more like it. It’s true that digestion takes a while, and takes some effort. Even though we Upper Moons may have eaten hundreds of people in our lifetimes, it’s not as if we gorge ourselves. The clever ones among us save prey for later to eat when we feel ready for it.
Gotou: Food storage? How do you keep them fresh?
Daki: You leave them still alive, numbskull. Nobody wants to eat something cold, that’s gross.
Gotou: I see, so that’s why demons prefer to go after new kills instead of saving what they’ve already managed to kill. That also might explain why the demons on Mt. Fujikasane wouldn’t had eaten many humans, if they found long dead ones in edible.
Daki: You want to know the real secret to eating humans? You can eat what you find tastes good, sure. But to get stronger, you eat strong people. Like your Corp members, the ones besides chumps like you? Using all that Breath makes their muscles really lean and potent, it’s like they come offering themselves as protein bars for us.
Gotou: You make them sound like a fad diet…
Daki: The real secret is eating Pillars. Besides Marechi, they’re the strongest meals out there. Guess how many I’ve eaten?
Gotou: I don’t have the data to make an educated guess.
Daki: Then get educated! Look back at Chapter 88! I’ve eaten seven Pillars, and my brother has eaten fifteen!
Gotou: Your brother? Who is he, then, Upper Moon Five?
Daki: What? Ew. Gross. Gross! No way, ew!
Gotou: Hmm… eating Pillars, huh? Well, I can think of one Pillar who was…
Douma: Me too!
Gotou: Speak of the devil.
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Douma: Actually, we Upper Moons can! And he's not Satan, that's not how this works. But I guess Muzan-sama’s curse doesn’t effect us now. Ask me anything you want!
Gotou: That Chapter 143 reference was such a rude entrance. I understand that Pillars are particularly nutritious—
Douma: Oh, please don’t misunderstand! I don’t even eat all the Pillars I’ve encountered. There was the one Flower Pillar who got away from me, but some of the boy pillars I just leave around. What’s really the key to consistent nutritional intake is women! It’s really unhealthy for a demon not to get enough women in their diet, that’s why even if you’re only looking for Marechi or Pillars, your metabolism is going to get thrown out of whack with sudden big meals. You grow a stronger metabolism with consistency, I believe!
Gotou: If I could stop you there, I had an image from Chapter 142 I preferred to focus on for this case study. I see you keep a wide collection of skulls, from victims whom I assume you ate.
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Douma: Yes, they all stayed together inside me for eternity, but the room looked lonely without décor.
Gotou: It seems other demons usually go for nutritionally dense organs like hearts or livers, or easy to digest parts of the body, perhaps just blood sometimes. Eating the entire victim, bones and all, doesn’t seem to be the norm.
Douma: Bones are organs too, you know! That’s where blood is made, at its freshest. They do take more practice in learning to digest, and I had to find a way around not having to chew them, but the bone marrow is very, very good for you, so I make sure to consume it frequently. It may take more time and it causes some of my followers to panic more while they wait, though, that’s a bit of a downside. Oh, and I guess bones can make good storage for some sneaky poison. Even fingernails and hair follicles, who’d have thought?
Gotou: I don’t think hair would have much nutritional value in the first place. In all my years, I can never recall seeing a victim with their hair eaten.
Douma: Tsk, tsk! Clearly you haven’t done much metabolism research in advance. I was really impressed by how well Shinobu-chan understood how my digestion would work. Eating hair can do amazing things! Isn’t that right, Genya-kun?
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Genya: ?????????
Gotou: Genya-kun!?
Genya: What am I doing here?
Gotou: I don’t think you’re supposed to be here. Isn’t there, you know, another side? The other direction?
Genya: What are you doing here? Did you die?
Gotou: I’m here doing research on demon metabolism and how they get stronger by consuming flesh.
Douma: What can you tell us about what up with having your friend feed you hair you found on the floor in Chapters 170-171, Genya-kun?
Genya: I’m not a demon!! Why the hell are you asking me?
Douma: ‘Hell’! Haha, good one!
Gotou: How do you even know about that? You were dead almost a full volume before that. And Genya’s different, he’s not a case study in how demons consuming humans works!
Douma: Are you certain?
Gotou: I hear the term get thrown around a lot that he’s ‘half-demon’, but—
Genya: I’m not a demon!!!
Gotou: --how would that even work? That would imply that one of his parents had to be a demon, and that—
Genya: What did you say about my mother!?!
Gotou: What? Nothing—
Genya: You say that to my face! You just trying saying something about my mother to my face! My mother never actually ate any flesh, you got that? She doesn’t deserve any of this!
Gotou: Genya, calm down, what—
Douma: I see we’re learning nothing about hair at all. Maybe Kokushibou-dono would provide better commentary on that?
Genya: Mom? Mo-o-o-o-m? Are you down here somewhere?
Gotou: And there he goes… wait, did you say Kokushibou? Upper Moon One? Oh no—he—he didn’t want me bothering him, he did not agree to another interview—
Douma: He-e-e-e-e-y, Kokushibou-dono! How did that work with Genya-kun eating your hair? Hair can be nutritious, right?
Kokushibou: You would gain… nothing… from consuming human hair… it’s not… flesh… you wasted your energy digesting it…
Douma: Aww, cutting it off them would had been sad, though.
Kokushibou: Demon hair… like demon weapons… is made… from our unique cells. It’s not dead… like human locks. Because that boy ate my live cells… it affected him…
Gotou: Yes, because he had a very, very unique metabolism, analyzed separately in this post. To be perfectly clear, Genya is completely human with cells that could temporarily transform, and he never consumed human flesh.
Kokushibou: He… vexes me…
Gotou: Um… while I’ve got you here, you’re one of the longest lived demons, clocking in at over three, maybe four centuries. Do you have any estimate of how many humans you’ve consumed?
Kokushibou: ……I see in… Chapter 100… that you are 23 years old?
Gotou: That is correct.
Kokushibou: Do you bother… remembering how many meals… you’ve had in a mere 23 years?
Gotou: I’m very sorry to have bothered you.
Douma: Kokushibou-dono’s ancient compared to the rest of us! But if I tried, I could probably recall. Let’s see. One, two, three, four…
Gotou: Is that? Your finger in your brain? Oh—ohhh—that is disgusting---I really don’t need to know numbers that badly, please stop. Is there maybe just some average you can give me for the Upper Moons instead? Like how many you’d eat in a month?
Douma: I wish I could, but a certain someone was an annoying outlier and didn’t like to eat so many humans. He made me worry all the time about his health.
Gotou: Really? Who might that be?
Douma: Hello-o-o-o-o-? Akaza-dono? Yoohoo! He spends all his time with his wife now and never answers when I call, it makes me so sad. Akaza-dono did eat humans, plenty of strong ones, but any time he wasn’t under orders from Muzan he liked to spend his time training instead of eating. Fanbook #1 says he did that way more than eating!
Gotou: Training? What sort of training?
Douma: Similar things to what your Corp members did, I imagine. Doing squats, throwing punches, things like that.
Gotou: Then demon muscles had similar function to human muscles, and could be strengthened through hard work? That’s surprising.
Douma: I know, right? I’ll let you in on a secret, I don’t think it was the physically repetition that did anything. I think it was his willpower getting honed and shaping his muscles.
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Douma: I had to focus when I acquired new skills too, like breaking down poisons. A lot of sad, lowly demons, like that Hand Demon fellow? They focus as hard as they can in their desperation, or focus on some strong emotion or attachment or whatever, and they grow and develop because of it. Sometimes all their weak bodies can manage is an ugly mutation, but that’s proof enough of how much focus they had.
Gotou: That sheds a lot of light on Nezuko, actually.
Douma: Shed “light” on Nezuko-chan, hahaha! Sunlight! You humans are all so witty!
Gotou: Speaking of willpower, I’ve got one more interview I need to get to down here. Of all the demons I have records of, only Nezuko went her whole time as a demon without consuming any human flesh, although she did go through moments of berserk cravings for it. It’s possible that other demons were killed before they could consume anything, but typically they will consume flesh as soon as possible, which is why its common for their family and close relations to be among the first ones killed. Tomioka-san even mentioned in Chapter 1 that these close relations are especially nutritious.
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Gotou: A demon about as old as Kokushibou, if not older, is a special case of her own. She was one of the only demons we know of to have escaped Kibutsuji’s curse and acted in dependently of him, including having created a demon of her own after two hundred years of trying. Most notably to our purposes, she trained herself to subsist on small amounts of blood, after having survived on corpses and wild animals for a time, according to the extensive Taisho Secrets at the end of Volume 21.
Tamayo: I explained this in more detail to Tanjirou-san in Chapter 15, but I went on to purchase blood from poor people, and extracted it in ways that wouldn’t be harmful to them. The one demon I created, Yushirou, could subsist on even less. I gained enough self-control that I could treat injured humans without feeling tempted into a berserk state.
Gotou: I was just talking to Douma about willpower making demons capable of accomplishing new physical developments. Was that how you were able to gain this state? I heard you even enjoy a cup of tea now and then.
Tamayo: Yes, I’ve taken a liking to it. I’d offer you some if not for this, you know, being hell. It’s nothing like the hell I went through when first resisting consuming humans, though. My demon body refused to take anything but fresh human flesh at first, but in the hardest moments, I always remembered a kind demon hunter who said he believed in me and my desire to defeat Kibutsuji Muzan. I believe Nezuko may have summoned her strength to resist the call of her demon cells in a similar way; she knew she had her brother there to rely on. Once she mastered something as remarkable as resisting the need for human flesh, it gave her the freedom to prioritize other developments.
Gotou: You spent centuries researching demon cells, especially how demons may break down and metabolize poisons.
Tamayo: I had not studied the metabolism of poisons until working with Shinobu-san. The medicine we concocted for Kibutsuji was only possible thanks to her work, and I couldn’t had worked with many of those wisteria-based substances on my own. I feel I was only there to fill in the gaps of her brilliant understanding.
Gotou: You’re very humble. I would pass along my thanks and compliments to Shinobu-sama too, but I’m pretty sure she’s not down here. On that note, did Genya-kun go back home?
Tamayo: He did after a nice reunion with his mother just now, it was very sweet. Shizu-san and I get along well, after all, we both carry similar guilt.
Gotou: Wait, was his mother a demon? That means Wind-sama’s mother was too? Wait?? What??
Tamayo: The worst hell I went through, or that any demon has gone through, is to realize what you’ve eaten after the hunger-driven madness clears. Being similar to your own cells, they’re easy on a volatile new anatomy to break down and digest. That’s why many demons may have driven themselves to forget everything all over again, or to twist their personalities to justify the horror, saying that because they ate the hearts of their loved ones and because demon flesh can live forever, then they never truly killed them. The truth always remained untwisted for me, and to this day, it torments me more than anything in this underworld can try.
Gotou: …
Tamayo: You should wake up now, Gotou. You’ve been through a lot; the nightmares must be taxing on your health. Please remember to eat well.
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theodorecanaryhood · 3 years
Text
This world is hard sometimes
In the process of my LGBTQ fics as we are in pride month, I have just come up with a small little tiddle for you guys. Not my best, but hope you like anyway!
Bat bros x male reader
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It wasn’t long for you to know how much your new family meant to you, or how much you meant to them.
Bruce was beyond, he is your Dad in many ways since he adopted you. He takes his time with you and does his best, but his nightly Bat-tivities sometimes do take a toll on him.
Dick has always been the one to make extra time for you, he played with you and always made a way for you to shine. Whether it was education or social. Dick was always the one to get you out of your comfort zone and shine the best. Plus he gives the best hugs.
Jason was moody and a little stand off-ish, but always made an effort. He is your big brother and always did his hardest when he could. He mostly was the one you would sit and read with, he has the best book recommendation list.
Tim was your gaming buddy, your hacking teacher and to be honest, your friend more than anything. You are close in age and him being slightly older always made him protective over you.
Damian is, well Damian, but as your little brother he would always choose you to go to first. After Bruce obviously.
The day you came out to the boys and your Dad was a change for you, they were accepting and loving straight away. Hugs and smiles all the way. Yet, they did change with you in some ways.
Bruce was always checking in on you whenever you were on patrol with him, he also would question every time you brought a guy over.
‘Are you two?’ Bruce asked shyly, you chuckled.
‘Not every guy I know is gay dad, he has a girlfriend’ you laughed, bless him he did try.
Dick taught you self defence, for when you were away from patrolling mostly in case anyone tried anything.
Jason was the greatest one when you came out, which really surprised you. He did take into his own hands though to teach you how to use firearms. Even tried to coax you into carrying one in case.
Tim never changed with you, still treated you the same as before. Not that no one else in the family did, they just became more protective over you which was over bearing.
Damian just had questions, mostly about how you knew you liked men, how you feel about women, how would you ever have children. Things like that.
One day during summer you were out with a couple of friends, things got heated when a ‘Karen’ decided she didn’t like you simply because you are gay. Unfortunately this still happens today.
You being a polite human being just tried to avoid the situation, but one of your friends got into an argument with her after he tried to stick up for you.
You tried to pull him away, then Karen struck back and another one of your friends got involved.
This scene ended with GCPD getting involved and you and your friends being called into questioning.
Commissioner Gordon walked into the station to find you in a cell with your friends, shocked he pulled you aside.
When you had explained what had happened he smiled and winked at you, telling you to sit tight.
‘Bruce, it’s Jim’ he said over the phone to your Dad.
‘Hey, what’s up?’ Bruce asked a little confused as to why Jim would call him.
‘It’s y/n, he’s here at the station’
‘What? Is he ok?’ Bruce asked in a panic.
‘He’s fine, he’s not in trouble, but I do think you should get here’ Jim sighed, Bruce ended the call with a quick ok.
The ride home with your Dad was painfully quiet, with Mike sitting in the backseat. He kept saying how his parents were going to freak out. Bruce offered support and took him home to explain.
After with just you and Bruce in the car, Bruce kept eyeing you over from the drivers seat.
‘So are we going to talk about it?’ He asked nonchalantly. You rolled your eyes.
‘….’ You mumbled something Bruce couldn’t quite make out.
‘Ok guess not’ he sighed, you sat up a little in your seat and began to speak.
‘This woman called me a faggot, Mike asked her politely to keep her opinions to herself and walk away. The woman started shouting and screaming saying how I was an abomination and, well Mike didn’t like it. I told him to leave it but he didn’t’ you said, Bruce looked shocked but smiled a little.
‘Mike is a good friend’ Bruce replied, you smiled.
‘Yeah he is’
‘I’m sorry son, sorry that happened to you. Unfortunately we still live in a world that isn’t accepting of everything’ Bruce offered an apology, but that wasn’t what you needed.
‘The world isn’t black and white anymore, the world is hard sometimes’ you spoke with sadness in your voice.
‘Your family and friends love you, I love you so much y/n, that’s all that matters’ Bruce smiled at you.
You smiled back and sat still in your seat while your Father drive you home.
‘Jason is gonna ask where this woman lives so Red Hood can pay her a visit, you do that right?’ You joked, Bruce chuckled.
‘Oh I know’
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Note
I'm not sure if this is exactly the right place to say this, but I don't know if there is. And you're a smart person and critical thinker who has talked about this before. If this is totally weird, you can just delete it ofc. I've never properly watched Supergirl but I started reading fanfic around the time my mental health got real bad so it was a comfort thing I didn't bring too much thought to. I really identify with Lena and in the past, part of me has understood her actions-
and I know that they're wrong. The anti-alien rhetoric is obviously an allegory for racism or homophobia. She's violated people's basic human rights. And I'm scared that I'm a bad person because sometimes, I kind of get it. Which is insane because i'm a lesbian enby of color, i mean i get targeted by most of the -ist/ism actions. And I'm also too tired to think about things critically all the time. Supercorp was my comfort fic, content thing-
I knew it was problematic (the whole James thing makes me sick to my stomach, scared and sad) but I didn't know that Lena as a character was written that way. The metaphors never really clicked in my head because I never thought about it, but now I feel absolutely horrible about myself because I like and identify with Lena. I'm not really sure how to move on from here- I'm just tired. I wish there could be just one thing, one piece of media that wasn't prejudiced (granted sg is not the place to go if you want decent rep and the like) and all of those things I said earlier. Its just me somehow trying to justify how I felt and empathized with something I shouldn't have. So yeah, sorry that was really long. I hope you have a lovely day- sorry for the spam
FIRST of all, you’re fine, babe! Both in sending me this and in enjoying The Bad Media. That’s my thesis here: You’re fine. With this in mind, let’s unpack this big ol suitcase:
We’re living in a fandom moment where more than ever before, we’re thinking about the ideas we consume in fiction and how they may or may not affect us. This is a net positive! Fiction is not reality, but it undeniably impacts it, so for this and many other reasons, we should always think critically about what resonates with us and why. Does this mean dissecting every facet of something to find all the ways it might fall in line with oppressive power structures? Absolutely not.
You, as an individual, do not owe anyone an explanation for why you enjoy anything. Period. How you relate to a given character or why you like them is nobody's business but your own.
Supergirl, as a piece of media, is singularly awful in its lackluster lipservice to progressivism while simultaneously refusing to deliver any progressive themes. Socially and politically, it is a useless liberal wet dream. Kara is an immigrant from a dead culture working as the muscle for a secret FBI offshoot with zero accountability for all of the other aliens in diaspora she has rounded up and dumped into a cell without trial. Alex is allegedly a lesbian, but the key points of her endgame relationship are constantly deemed not important enough to get screen time, which is made even more absurd when examined from the angle that this series is marketed directly toward LGBT people. An embarrassing percentage of villains on this show are women of color, which is particularly loud when there are only 2 women in the main cast who aren't white. And "main" is extremely generous, given that Kelly is just there to Give Advice Good and everything M'gann says and does is as dry as toast.
My point here is that the whole show is rotted to its roots, and whatever quietly libertarian or even fascism-enabling bullshit they push onto Lena in a given week is par for the crusty, shitty course. Kara deciding that she's ok with the alien detection device because "there are bad aliens" is a lovely (read: awful) microcosm of why this show sucks so fucking hard. "People are entitled to their opinions" is for debates on whether pineapple goes on pizza, not for whether we should casually out, endanger, and disenfranchise our [insert minority metaphor here] because some of them are mean.
But what I would love for this fandom to wrap its head around, and what I hope you understand, anon, is that just because it happens on the show, doesn't mean we have to give a rat's ass about it. What the hell is The Canon, anyway? Especially in the case for Supergirl, which can't even get its own continuity right. Especially for an IP that has been rebooted dozens of times before and will be rebooted again in the future. We can just decide that Lena realized the horrible injustices she enabled through her position of power. We can even decide that they just didn't happen at all! This is all fake. It's not set in stone. Who came up with it, anyway? A network with a list of buzzwords they want included and a couple of D-tier showrunners cranking down caffeine to meet an absurdly tight deadline. It's not special. I can guarantee that you care about it infinitely more than they do, and you haven't even watched the damn show.
On a more personal level, people who are hurt, depressed, or traumatized have always and will always look for themselves in fiction. Myself included! And despite what lofty platitudes there may be on the matter, suffering does not make us kind. It does not make us better. Sometimes it's just suffering. Often it pulls us further from who we are meant to be. Often it just makes us "worse."
Trauma has made Lena emotionally brittle. A lifetime of manipulation and abuse has taught her to compartmentalize herself and lock her feelings behind a maze of doors. When she does let love in, she accepts it so wild and vulnerable that she can't see the red flags behind the rosy lenses. She latches so hard onto people she deems virtuous that she holds them to a standard none could fulfill. Her pain has to go somewhere, so it oozes out of her, into Non Nocere, into the post-reveal rift. She's a powder keg, and Kara spent 4 years shoveling more gunpowder onto the pile while holding the match between her teeth.
And despite these fatal flaws that make perfect sense through the eyes of Lena's trauma, she is so full of love. Like Kara, her suffering did not make her kind. She is kind in spite of her suffering. These are the characters we are drawn to when we're hurting. Lena’s trauma is an inextricable part of her, but it is not all of her, and neither are her mistakes.
There truly is not and never will be a piece of media that is absolutely innocent of the harmful structures thrust upon us by society, because we ourselves also participate in that society whether we are critical of it or not, whether we strive to change it or not. I'm flawed. You're flawed. Bettering ourselves is not a journey toward an ultimate destination of perfection. It is a garden we nurture in an endless labor of love because the joy that comes from seeing it flourish and change vastly outweighs the work we put into it and the weeds popping up around its unkempt edges. This is a lesson Lena herself could probably stand to internalize. Probably with lots and lots of therapy. Lots. And lots.
So, to circle back to the start of this? You're fine. You recognized the logic in a traumatized character's mistakes because our own gravest errors more often than not stem from the ways we have been harmed in the past. It's what makes Lena (or, at the very least, the many adaptations of Lena that exist in this fandom) a good character. She is, to her core, characterized proof that a crumbling foundation and poisonous soil do not define us. Which is why watching her heal and grow and learn a healthier kind of love is so, so wonderful.
In closing, I think it's worth mentioning that being critical of media does not mean that we stop enjoying the parts of it we like. There is a lot of gold to be pulled from the steaming pile of shit that is CW Supergirl, and that's why we're all here in the first place. So I really hope you can continue to enjoy it in whatever way makes you smile <3
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limitlessgojo · 3 years
Text
Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch. 11)
Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood
Previous Chapter: Invisible Ties
Next Chapter: Goldenrod
Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader
Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife
Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty <3
Additional notes: This is so funny but I made a mistake in assuming the previous Goodwill event was held in Tokyo. Rewatched JJK and found out it was in Kyoto so I had to rewrite it XD.
Chapter 11: Kyoto-Tokyo Goodwill Event
Breakfast was a quiet affair. He brought out a short table and you had the meal side by side.
It was grilled salmon and miso soup. You both stole glances at each other when the other wasn't looking.
A domestic life with Noritoshi. Yeah you could get used to this. "Thank you for the meal Noritoshi." You smiled and offered to wash the dishes.
He stood behind you in the small kitchenette as you did, humming softly to yourself. Noritoshi was holding your waist gently and leaning his forehead against your shoulder. Thumbing small circles into the sides of your hips.
You quietly smiled at yourself, not expecting Noritoshi to love physical affection this much. After washing the dishes, you laughed as you placed your ice cold hands on his neck, forcing him to let go of you and flinch back with a frown.
Leaving Noritoshi’s dorm after breakfast had terrible timing apparently. You bumped into Todo senpai on your way out.
“Ah.” You both stared at each other for a bit. Noritoshi was still behind you, the door to his dorm room open. It didn’t help that you had your pillows and blankets in your hands.
And you were still in pajamas.
“So is this like a thing now? Congratulations on getting together.” Todo smiled down at you.
“Ah uhm- we- I- “ You stuttered, but Noritoshi wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to him.
“Yes we are dating. And what of it?” He stared Todo down. You were flustered but incredibly pleased upon finally hearing a solid label between the two of you.
Todo just grinned. “So you actually have decent taste in women huh Kamo?”
“The best.” He replied dryly. You flushed and whined at Noritoshi, pawing at his robes. He just pulled you closer and hid your face in his chest.
“Didn’t know you had this shy side Tsuchi chan.” Todo was laughing. He bid both of you goodbye, and by the end of the day the entire campus knew both of you were dating.
But of course the both of you didn’t know it yet. “So…. you’re my boyfriend now Toshi?” you reached up to twirl his hair in your fingers as you made your belongings float in midair.
His eyes sparkled at the nickname. He leaned down close to you, “So it seems. Are you unhappy?”
“No. I’m happy.” You leaned up to press your lips against the corner of his.
Noritoshi sent you off, only letting you go after he had gotten a huge hug from you with a deep kiss to the cheek. He realized with a small jolt that he was pretty much touch-starved (no surprises there).
Wishing for more of your hugs and kisses already, and you just left for a few moments. He sighed heavily and shook his head.
Later that day, you bumped into Miwa as you were leaving your dorm. It was the weekend so you all had no classes and missions. She hesitantly called out a “Congratulations. You finally got together with Kamo senpai yeah?”
You looked at her in surprise. “How did you-”
“Todo senpai.”
“That man really doesn’t keep his mouth shut.”
◇◇◇
It was a different experience, having the other students tease the both of you about your new relationship as a real boyfriend and girlfriend. You felt weird by calling him your lover.
"I called it!" Mai proudly smirked down at you. "We all did Mai chan." Momo senpai giggled, bumping her hip with yours as you looked shocked over the bets they placed.
Noritoshi always had a soft smile for you. He recently managed his time better, finishing his studies very early so he could spend more time with you.
Not shy to take your hand whenever you meet in the hallways and drag you for a picnic under the huge Plum Tree or just to hug you quickly before going off to a mission.
You were more open, hopping up to him in the hallways and greeting him cheerfully. ‘It was nice’, you thought to yourself.
Ever the overthinker, you at times think of the secrets he mentioned having. Probably personal matters he wasn’t ready to talk about. That’s fine, you had your own fair share as well. Time will heal and bring whatever it may to the both of you.
◇◇◇
The Kyoto-Tokyo sister school goodwill event was drawing near. You and your fellow first years wished all your participating seniors good luck.
“I heard they also have a Special Grade 1st year student in Tokyo Tech.” You perked up at that, “Is that so?”
“I highly doubt they’d come though. Just like how you aren’t participating, Tsuchi. Usually 2nd and 3rd years are the ones participating. It is going to be held here in Kyoto Tech since we won last year.” Todo grinned.
You wondered about that.
◇◇◇
Just a few days before the goodwill event, Utahime texted you and said Noritoshi was injured from a mission. So of course you flew as fast as you could to his room, where he was being treated.
"Noritoshi!!" You wheezed out, entering his room in a burst of wind. You had come back from a lunch date with an old classmate from elementary.
You hurried over to his bedside and looked him over. He slowly turned to you, eyes widening. He smiled, "An angel is here."
You flushed and laughed out loud, "Noritoshi you've lost it. It's just me. Y/n." You brushed some stray hairs out of his face.
He continued staring at you dreamily, “Angel”. You were all dressed up, face fully made up. Rouge lipstick with a light touch of blush on your cheeks. You had your round shades on, prettily framing your face.
He used a free and uninjured hand to reach and cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch before pushing his arm back down. "You need rest." You said gently.
You placed your hands over his chest and activated your reverse cursed technique. He groaned as he felt his skin stitch back together. "Shhh, it will be fine."
He wasn't that badly injured thank goodness. “Angel, have you seen my y/n? I miss her.” He whined. You patted him on the forehead and shushed him with a quick kiss.
Why was he behaving like this?? You turned to the nurse packing their things from the corner, “I put him on anesthesia. He will be loopy for a bit.”
“Ah.” This might be a little bit fun. “Toshiii~ It’s me y/n how could you not recognize me?” You pouted. Noritoshi pouted and whined in return. The nurse pointedly ignored both of you and quickly left the room.
He stared at you with the biggest eyes he’s ever made, seemingly thinking hard. “Don’t think too hard, you’ll lose brain cells.” you whispered.
“Hold me.” He demanded not unlike a child asking for candy. And so you sat beside him and held onto his hand. You watched as he fell asleep, clinging onto your hand.
This loose-tongued and childish side to Noritoshi was just too adorable.
◇◇◇
Noritoshi stirred awake, seeing you so close to him. You were laying on top of his chest, one hand holding onto his.
He stared at your profile half sprawled over his blanket and reached to put a hand on your back and rubbed it soothingly. Then let his hand rest on the back of your neck while tracing small circles on it with the pad of his thumb.
You were so sweet on him. It was a wonder to Noritoshi, who felt as though he was always lacking in physical affection. To see someone sincerely take care of him without requesting anything in return was refreshing for a change.
He watched as you stirred, then your hand tightened in his and you brought it close to your lips, all while you were still fast asleep. Noritoshi’s eyes twinkled. What were you dreaming about? Was it about him?
He watched as you slowly woke up. “Mmmm Toshiii~” you blearily reached out for him. You were able to wash up and change your clothes while he was asleep.
He pulled you into his bed, making your half sprawl over his lap. “Why didn’t you get in bed with me? Surely your back must hurt? It’s late now, sleep with me.” You looked at the clock and to your surprise it was indeed late. 2am.
“Okayy” you were still whiny, half asleep, and slightly grumpy from waking up. You both settled in the bed and fell asleep holding hands.
◇◇◇
It was finally the day of the Kyoto-Tokyo Goodwill event. You were all out, 1st, 2nd and 3rd years with Utahime sensei and Principal Gakuganji, waiting for the Tokyo group to arrive.
Then you felt this ominous presence from afar. You took a few steps back, cursed energy flaring and winds whipping around you. Everyone looked at you in concern and Noritoshi whispered as he squeezed your hand, "Angel, you okay?"
You still found it funny how he now takes to calling you his angel when it’s just the two of you after you told him about his embarrassing moment when he was loopy on sedatives.
You stared off at a distance. "Everyone... Something… big is coming." You didn't realize that you felt Rika's presence from afar. Everyone tensed and looked in the same direction you were as the Tokyo participants came.
There were some really loud 2nd and 3rd years, but the one that stood out was a rather reserved boy with black hair. He had a Katana bag hooked over one shoulder. And a massive curse looming over him. ‘How is that thing not exorcised yet?!’
"Yooooo Everyone from Kyoto hello!!"
That voice. Your eye twitched. "Nice to meet you all again." Gojo Satoru cheerily yelled. Introductions were exchanged. The group challenge on the first day is Capture the Flag. The details for the individual battles tomorrow are yet to be announced.
Everyone was surprised to hear that the first year, Okkotsu Yuuta, the special grade cursed human, was participating to even out the numbers.
Based on that amount of cursed energy…. Tokyo school might win this year, you thought grimly. 'As long as there are no casualties please.' You prayed to yourself. You wished Noritoshi good luck with a quick hug.
After the participants were dismissed and released to their positions, the Kyoto 1st year's followed the two principals and Utahime sensei.
"Neko-chaaaan! How cruel, you don't wanna greet me?" His damn voice was so fucking loud everyone in the vicinity turned to Satoru.
(His nickname for you was cute but the story wasn't. When you were 4 years old, the Tsuchi family cat always ran away from you. You tried to be more catlike to befriend it, which Satoru found hilarious. Ergo, he started calling you Cat or Neko chan.)
Your eye twitched again as always does with Satoru. "Toru nii, it's been a while." You said, looking at the man leering down at your figure. He pulled you in for a side hug and ruffled your hair. "I missed you loads, it's been a while huh. How's school?"
"Not too bad." You fixed and patted your hair back down, aware of the eyes on you.
"Mmm, I bet." His bright blue [six] eyes could see the red strings linking your pinky to Noritoshi's. "You got a boyfriend by any chance y/n?"
You stopped at that and looked up at him. "Did Hiroki tell you anything?" "Nup" he always pops his P's obnoxiously.
You looked to the side and murmured "I do."
"You have a boyf-ooms" You slapped your hand over his mouth, floating up to his height. You could practically see his blue eyes gleaming behind those white bandages. "Keep your voice down dimwit." You hissed.
He licked your hand. "You're gross as always Toru," you wiped it on his sleeve as you walked on air to match his height.
"You should have told me you got a boyfriend. Anywayss, my students are gonna kick ass. Yuuta is pretty strong and he's the type to go all out you know?" He nudged you.
"Noritoshi and the senpais won't go down without a fight." You said. “Heehhh, is that so?”
You caught up a bit with him, making small talk as you made your way to the viewing rooms.
◇◇◇
Miwa later pulled you aside, "You know Gojo Satoru?! Isn't he, like, super famous?!"
"Uhhh?? He is?? … uhm I don't know. But we are family friends, he's like a brother to me really." You said confusedly. "The Tsuchimikado and Gojo clans always got along. His dad and my dad are friends."
"Ahhh I see." She nodded. She was still unfamiliar with the Great 3 clans and minor clans of Jujutsushi so it was understandable for her to be curious.
The rest of you filed into the room. The teachers allowed all of you to watch on the screens, so that you can get familiar with the goodwill event.
"Psst! Y/n sit beside me." You laughed as Satoru eagerly patted the seat beside him, sounding more like a teenager than a teacher. You scooted over to his side as he brought out snacks, chips, and popcorn. You stared at him. "You think this is a movie?"
"It's free entertainment." He shrugged.
And the event started. You all watched on the screens as both schools fought against curses while defending their home base flag and trying to take down the enemy's flag.
Todo, of course, was on the front lines, recklessly plowing into Tokyo high's home base. Hakari, a 3rd year, was facing him off, somehow holding his ground against him.
Noritoshi was following Momo around, taking down curses and stopping the other team's students from charging in.
But before they knew it, Yuuta was on the other side, flag in his hands. It wasn't a quick match but a rather rough one. At the very least, no one was injured badly.
Your eyes watched Okkotsu’s movements. It was very obvious he was new to fighting, but his brute force of cursed energy played well to his strengths. You were looking forward to tomorrow's matches.
Blood Bound: Table of Contents
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scuttling · 3 years
Text
(You Want To) Make a Memory
Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina Original Female Character Word Count: 19,858 Chapters: 5 of 5 Complete Tags: 18+, NSFW, Amnesia, Anxiety attacks, Sex dreams, Dom/sub, Daddy kink, Praise kink, Unprotected sex, Vaginal fingering, Dirty talk, Choking, Biting, Hickies, Oral sex, Making love, Angst and feels, Shower sex, Size kink Summary: Sophie gets amnesia while working a case and forgets everything from the last two years: her friends, her job at the BAU, and her boyfriend, Aaron. Note: This is a reformatted, previously published work. :)
Link to AO3 or read Chapter 1 below!
The thing Sophie finds most complicated about her work at the BAU is that it’s their job to predict the unpredictable. Yes, they are all highly educated, knowledgeable profilers, with decades of experience between them, and human behavior typically follows patterns that are easily discernible if you have the right training. But even armed with all the information, all the statistics, all the data, there’s one thing they can never really know for certain: what a desperate person will do in the heat of the moment.
The unsub they are looking for is a white male, aged 25-35, who lives alone, has a steady daylight job, drives a red pickup truck, and has a problem with older female authority figures. Sophie could go on and on about this particular type of unsub—she could tell you where he shops, how he spends his evenings, his favorite sport/team/player, probably even what he’ll eat for dinner tonight—but there’s no way she can know how he’ll react to the FBI at his door, or the consequences his actions will have.
The team is canvassing the neighborhood they believe the unsub resides in, and she and Spencer were assigned the four hundred block; they each take a separate side of the street, and work their way down house by house trying to find someone who fits the profile, or knows someone who does.
“Any luck?” Sophie asks Spencer when they meet back up at the end of the the block. He grimaces, uncertain.
“There was one guy, but…” She gestures toward the SUV and they walk toward it together.
“What happened? Profile didn’t fit?”
“He was the right demographic, the vehicle fit, but he wasn’t disorganized. In fact, his home looked like it belonged in a catalog: photos on the walls, decorative items, nothing out of place.” She frowns a little, because it’s clear this guy has raised some red flags for her partner, and she trusts his intuition when it comes to stuff like this.
“And he lives alone?” she asks, confirming. That’s a pretty big part of the profile, considering what he does to the victims. He nods.
“Yes, no indication of a girlfriend or wife living there.” Sophie blows out a breath, leans against the side of the SUV.
“Okay, let’s brainstorm. Maybe... he hires a housekeeper.” Spencer shrugs.
“He didn’t seem like the type, but I guess it’s possible.”
“Alright, well… Okay, so our profile is of a man who kills older women because he has an issue with an older woman who is an authority figure in his life. We thought maybe his boss, but what if it’s his mother?” she asks, face lighting up a little. This theory makes more sense, actually. “What if she comes over while he’s at work, cleans the place up, redecorates, just takes complete control of his life, even his private space, and he loses it?” He nods enthusiastically.
“That is extremely more likely. Now that I think of it, all the photos were of him and an older woman who could be his mother.” Sophie pulls out her phone, gestures over her shoulder with her thumb.
“Let’s head back there; Hotch and JJ are just around the corner, I’ll let them know we might need backup. 412?”
“Yeah—hey, that’s the truck. That’s the truck,” he says with more urgency, pointing down the street at a rapidly approaching red pickup truck that matches the description of the unsub’s. Shit.
“Okay, get in the car, call Hotch,” she instructs, and they both barely make it in before the truck rear-ends the SUV on the driver's side; Sophie’s head hits off the steering wheel hard, and the car rocks, and she looks over at Spencer, a little disoriented, to make sure he’s okay. He’s holding his wrist, like maybe he hurt it bracing himself.
When she gets her bearings, she starts the car, throws it into reverse, ready to apply a little force and potentially keep him from striking again, but he backs up, speeds up, and cuts the wheel to go around them, striking her door and driving past. It’s then that another SUV cuts him off, and Hotch and JJ jump out, guns drawn; the unsub raises his hands, surrenders, and it’s over as quickly as it began.
“Sophie?” She can hear her name, but her head is swimming. She touches the cut above her temple, pulls back a hand covered in blood, but she knows head injuries bleed heavily, so she’s not worried. She’s more worried that she can’t tell where that voice is coming from. It’s like she’s in a fun house, sounds echoing from all sides. “Sophie, can you hear me?” She hums in response.
Kind hands are on her face, turning it toward the sun, and she scrunches her eyes at the brightness. She knows the hands are trying to help, but her head already hurts, and the light isn’t doing her any favors.
“Gotta… get up,” she mumbles, and the hands hold her waist, help her out of the car. Her left foot hurts when she puts her weight down on it, and she almost folds, but the hands hold her up, and she thinks she smiles.
“Reid—is she okay?” That voice is a voice that makes her want to answer immediately, even if her brain hasn’t quite caught up. She stumbles over her words.
“‘M okay. Just my… head.” A different pair of hands hold her up, and her brain is working enough to recognize that she loves the smell of the person attached to the hands. They are serious hands, and one of them sweeps gently over her face.
“Can you open your eyes for me, baby, please?” that good voice asks, and she wants to do anything the voice asks, but her eyes really hurt. She must say that out loud, because the voice says softly, “That’s alright, don’t strain yourself. Medics on the way. You’re going to be fine.”
“Tell him…” She is placed back in the car, can feel the softness of the seat against her back, and it’s nice. “Tell him that was mean… and not to do it again.” She feels lips on her face, turns toward them, sighs when they brush over hers. “Mmm. Or I’m going to… tell his mother.”  When Sophie wakes up, she feels like she’s been repeatedly punched in the head, thrown down a flight of stairs, and then run over by a truck, so, naturally, she groans. She doesn’t dare open her eyes at first, can already see the fluorescents flickering through her eyelids, but her mouth is dry, and since she knows she must be in a hospital, she knows that there’s a little plastic pitcher of water somewhere within her reach.
Cautiously, she cracks one eye, finds the pitcher and a kind looking woman with fair skin and dark bangs staring back at her.
“You’re awake!” she whispers excitedly, and she leans forward for a hug, which Sophie does not return, because she doesn’t know the woman. The woman must feel the tension in Sophie’s body as she sits, arms at her sides, and waits for the hug to end, because she pulls back, concerned. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she begins, unsure of how to put this politely. Her voice is dry, rough, and the woman pours her a glass of water, which she takes gratefully. “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t… Do I know you?” Her face falls, and she looks confused, and then abruptly worried.
“My name is Emily. Prentiss. Does that ring a bell?” Sophie thinks back, tries to navigate around the pounding in her temples, and ultimately shakes her head.
“No, I’m sorry. And I mean no disrespect—I meet a lot of people for work, so sometimes it’s hard to keep track.”
“Where do you work?”
“I work for the FBI. Intelligence.” Sophie takes in the woman’s outfit—black turtleneck, gray pants, boots, government issued handgun—and tilts her head curiously. “And you?”
“FBI. Behavioral Analysis Unit.” She pulls her bag closer on the seat beside her, pulls out her credentials, lets Sophie hold them. “Have you heard of it?”
“Sure, of course. I have an interview there next week, actually.” She hands back the badge with a smile. “Small world. Uh, do you think that what happened to me occurred because of a crime, or something? Is that why you’re here?"
Agent Prentiss gives her a sad smile, then stands, pulling out her cell phone. “You know, we’re really not sure what’s going on. Excuse me for one moment, I need to make a call. I’ll get your doctor while I’m out there.”
“Okay. Thanks,” Sophie calls as she heads out of the room, and she pours another glass of water.
When the agent returns with the doctor, she looks tenser, but the doctor just shoots her a kind smile. “Hello, Sophie. I’m glad to see you’re awake.”
“Thank you; I’m glad to be awake. How long have I been out?”
“About two days. You were in a car accident, do you remember that?” She’d catalogued her injuries while alone—laceration to the head, some pain and swelling there; aching wrist, sore but unbroken; bruised ankle, tender but okay to put pressure on—and they are consistent with a car accident, but she shakes her head.
“No, ma’am, I don’t remember.” The doctor frowns, an expression the agent behind her mirrors.
“What’s the last thing you do remember?”
“Um.” She closes her eyes, thinks hard for a moment, but it hurts her eyes. “I was driving home from work, I think? Or about to leave for the day. It’s kind of blurry.”
“That’s alright, don’t press too hard. It should come back to you in no time.” She steps around the bed to pull her chart off the wall, skims it briefly. “We’re going to have to run some scans; I’ll give you a moment with Agent Prentiss, and then I’ll send someone in to take you down to the lab, okay?”
“Sure. Thank you, doctor.” The woman smiles and walks out of the room, leaving her with the clearly unhappy agent. “Is everything okay, Agent Prentiss? You look about as bad as I feel.” The woman sighs, drops back down into her seat, folds her hands in her lap.
“The doctor believes you’re suffering from retrograde amnesia. You don’t remember some things you should remember. Quite a bit of time.” Her throat goes dry again, her heart beats rapidly in her chest.
“That’s not possible. I remember driving home from work… or, getting in the car to drive home from work, just the other day.” She shakes her head like she’s not sure what to say.
“I know, Sophie, but that’s not a recent memory. You don’t work at the Grant building anymore.”
“What do you mean? I’m the Intelligence liaison. I mean, I applied for the BAU job…” She’s wanted to work there since she found out about it, to put her degrees to good use; to get an interview is almost unheard of, everyone told her, but she made the cut, even bought a new suit to wear. It’s still hanging in her closet.
“And you got it,” Prentiss says gently, reaching forward to take her hand. “You and I have been working together at the BAU for almost two years.”
Sophie can’t be blamed, she doesn’t think, when she leans over, reaches for the wastebasket, and promptly vomits.  “So I’m a profiler, and I’ve been one for two years. I work with you and we’re friends,” Sophie repeats as a bit of a recap. Prentiss nods.
“Yep. Those who profile serial killers together, stick together.” She says it with a smile that doesn’t touch her eyes.
“Wow. Okay. I’m really sorry I don’t remember you.” She shrugs it off, and Sophie sighs. “Any other major life events I should know about? Did I get a cat, go vegan?”
“You don’t have time for a pet, and you like cheese too much,” Prentiss jokes, but that does sound like something she’d say. Her face gets serious after that, and she even looks nervous. It makes Sophie nervous, too. “You have a boyfriend.”
That raises her eyebrows.
“I have a boyfriend.” She smiles softly, nods.
“Yes. He’s… it’s funny, because he’s actually... our boss.” Sophie blanches. Talk about a close-knit group.
“I’m sleeping with my boss? That is not like me.” She barely sleeps with anyone, too busy focusing on her career and not that into one-night-stands, but her boss of all people? That’s just plain stupid.
“It’s really not like that, trust me. You two are in love.” Okay, she’s heard enough. Maybe Prentiss is a prankster, playing some wildly hilarious joke on her amnesiac pal.
“I’m in love. Did I actually say that?” She knows herself pretty well, flaws and all, and she’s been a vehement skeptic when it comes to love for… god, as long as she can remember—no pun intended. Prentiss nods, looks very serious.
“Yes, I’ve heard you say it many, many times. You two live together.”
“We live together? For how long?” This can’t be right; one of the things she values most is her privacy, her solitude. She lives a quiet, simple life, aside from being an FBI agent, and she likes it that way.
“About six months,” she answers carefully.
“We’ve lived together for six months? How long have we been dating?” Her voice sounds a little shrill even to her own ears. Prentiss is being very cool about it all, doesn’t so much as blink.
“It’s a year next week, actually. He’s been trying to come up with a surprise for your anniversary.” Sophie feels a little lightheaded.
“Anniversary. Fuck.” She squeezes her eyes shut, which hurts, opens them only so the pain will go away. She knows they’re teary, can’t help it, but she doesn’t want Prentiss to see her like this. She hates being vulnerable, always has. “I can’t remember two years of my life. I can’t remember my own boyfriend, my own job. My friends.”
“I can tell you about them, if you want,” she offers cautiously. “The doctor said it could help, but if you feel like it’s too much, let me know.”
Sophie nods carefully. She wants to know, she needs to know.
Prentiss—Emily—is so genuinely kind. She sits there for an hour, tells Sophie about work, and their team—their friends, because the group is very tight, gets together for dinner and drinks, and they all support each other’s non-bureau endeavors, and she feels so sad that she can’t remember them, can’t recall anything Emily is rattling off so easily it’s like she doesn’t even have to think about it.
She talks about some tough cases they’ve worked on, and how they always end with a cookout or a family dinner so they can remember why they do the hard things, why they keep fighting. She talks about people they’ve helped, saved, brought comfort to. She talks about flights home on the jet, how sometimes they sit in quiet, companionable silence and other times it’s all teasing and laughter and the good things in life.
Then she starts talking about Aaron—the boss/boyfriend—and Sophie does cry, a couple of tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. She’d never imagined in her life that she would be as loved as she is, if Emily’s stories are true, and the fact that she can’t remember any of it is like a knife to the gut. She wants to scream, to make someone pay for what she’s missing, but she knows none of that will bring her memory back, so she dials back the rage as quickly as it came—huh, that’s new.
Usually, her particular brand of anxiety attack would happen right about now, always worse when she’s afraid or angry. She anticipates tightening in her chest, shortness of breath, ringing in her ears that takes forever to go away, but it doesn’t come. She’s able to calm herself with a deep breath, and despite the fact that the rest of her life is a dumpster fire right now, this feels kind of good. It feels like progress, not a story told through someone else’s eyes, but a tangible feeling she can hold onto and think, I am a different version of Sophie than I was two years ago. A better version, maybe. But at least different. That, above everything else, makes it real.
A nurse walks in to take Sophie down for scans, and Emily just smiles, a bit sadly, and tells her she’ll be there waiting when she returns.
It’s a small comfort, something she holds onto as she’s taken down to the lab. When Sophie makes it back to her room, Emily is waiting there as promised, and she has a duffle bag sitting on the bed. “The doctor says you can go home while they wait for the scans,” she says with a smile; she probably thinks it will make Sophie happy, and it does, but the idea of going to a home she’s never been to is a little unsettling. Still, it’s nice to know there are people who care about her who will help her through it, that she’s not alone. That’s not something Sophie of two years ago would have been able to count on.
She smiles back, and Emily helps her change into clothes that somehow still smell like the hospital, but it feels better to be dressed and not stuck in the flimsy hospital gown that always makes you feel weaker and sicker, more injured than you really are.
She hears a voice from out in the hall, a voice that catches her attention immediately, and she walks over to the door, peeks her head out to see if she can find the man it belongs to.
She does, and he is almost too good-looking to be real. Somehow, she both instinctively knows that this man is Aaron, and can’t see how that could possibly be true.
“Emily. Is that Aaron?” she asks to confirm, pointing to the tall, serious-looking, frankly smoldering hot man having a conversation with her doctor at the end of the hall. She peeks her head out the door too, looks toward him with a smile.
“Yeah, that’s him. Do you remember him?” Her tone is guarded but hopeful, and Sophie sighs.
Remember him, no, not in the way she means, but every cell in her body feels alive and on fire just from catching a glimpse of his face, so she’s pretty sure Emily is right and she’s crazy in love with him. And his suit. Who looks that good in a suit?
Her boyfriend, apparently. Who she lives with. Who she’s been with for a year. Her mind is still a little blown.
“I don’t recall any memories of him,” she whispers, as if he can hear her from down the hall, “but, uh. I think my body remembers him.” Emily looks at her, eyebrow quirked, and she blushes. “Or, you know. Parts of it.”
Realization dawns, and Emily grins. “Okay yeah, that tracks. You two are kind of all over each other. It’s an intense vibe.” Sophie takes a moment to imagine that, what it would be like to be in a relationship with this man.
He looks intense, which can be good or bad, with the kind of mouth you could kiss forever, smile against. He’s taller than her by about a foot, which thrills her, and broad, as evidenced by the jacket stretched across his shoulders, which really thrills her. He’s older, maybe early forties, which she doesn’t feel particularly strongly about one way or another, with gorgeous dark hair and eyes, and when he shakes hands with the doctor, silver wrist watch gleaming under the fluorescent lights, her mouth practically waters.
“Earth to Sophie. You’ve got a little drool, there,” Emily teases, pointing to her own mouth, and Sophie groans.
“You didn’t prepare me. You didn't tell me he was hot.” Aaron turns away from the doctor, starts walking down the hall toward her room, and she ducks out of the doorframe, Emily following suit. She puts a hand to her forehead, not in physical pain, but mental pain for sure. “God, this is going to be so awkward. I’ve got a total lady boner for the guy I’m in love with that I can’t even remember.”
“It might be a little awkward at first, but you guys are sweet together. He’s going to be so caring and understanding, give you all the time you need.” She puts her hands on Sophie’s arms, grounding her. “We’re going to focus on trying to get your memories back, but the doctor said you shouldn’t stress.”
“That’s easy for her to say,” she mutters, crossing her arms, “she didn’t forget her big sexy boyfriend.” She hears a soft chuckle from behind her and instantly flushes, which makes Emily grin.
“Sophie, this is Aaron.” She physically turns her, and Aaron is smiling gently, which makes him look even better than when he was serious and expressionless. Her heart thrums in her chest.
“Hi. I’m sorry I don’t remember you. I want to.” She sticks out her hand for a shake, feels dumb instantly, but he takes it anyway, holds it for a moment. His hand is rough, so much bigger than hers, and part of her hopes he never lets go.
“That’s alright. Dr. Bracken is confident you’ll recover all of your memories in time. She’s given me some instruction on ways we can try to jog your memory, but no stress, like Emily said.”
“I guess we’re not considering the fact that losing two years of your life is a little stressful,” she counters, and he laughs again.
“You haven’t lost anything. Just misplaced them for a while.” He steps toward her, like he wants to touch her, comfort her maybe, but freezes, thinks better of it. She’s torn between wanting to get to know him better first and wanting to jump into his arms immediately, so she decides to let him set the pace. “So… Do you want to come home with me?” His voice is soft, hopeful, matching his eyes. “Garcia—our friend, another coworker of ours—has offered to put you up at her place if you’re not comfortable with that, so no worries either way. You have a place to go.”
Her stomach sinks a little at the thought of being anywhere but home, even though she has no idea where that is, and she looks back at Emily, who smiles encouragingly.
“I think I want to go home,” she decides after a moment, and she turns back to look at Aaron. “Is that okay with you?” He nods seriously.
“Yes, of course. I want you home with me. I just wanted you to know you had other options.” Emily slips past her, a hand on her elbow, and finishes gathering up her belongings while they talk. “The rest of the team is going to come over for a little bit, if you’re okay with that. The doctor said it would be a good idea, since you spend most of your time with them, but if at any point it gets overwhelming, let me know. No hard feelings if we send everyone home.”
“Okay,” she breathes, her head already swimming a bit just from talking to Aaron, and he does step forward, then, giving her her space but indicating that he wants to come closer, if she’ll let him.
“May I put this on you?” he murmurs, and opens his palm to display her rose necklace, the one she wears, must still wear, everyday. At least that hasn’t changed. “The EMTs gave it to me when they brought you in. I’ve been holding onto it for safekeeping.” She nods, turns around, and he slips it around her throat, clasps it, brushes a careful hand over her neck to move her hair out of the way. “That’s better,” he says, his breath ghosting over her skin, and she sighs, wants to sink back against the heat of his body; she just knows how comforting it would be, how safe she would feel. Instead, she turns and smiles softly.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” They hold eye contact for a moment, and then Emily appears at her side, making a face like she knows she’s interrupting something.
“Ready to get going?” she asks, handing Sophie’s duffle bag over to Aaron. “I’m going to stop at home and then I’ll head to your place.”
“Absolutely. Thank you, Emily,” Sophie says sincerely, stepping forward to pull her into a tight hug. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I hope I remember more about you soon.”
“I’m happy I could be here, and I know you will. Just give it some time.” She pats her on the back, and then leaves the room.
Aaron carries her bag and leads her out to the parking garage, toward a standard federal issued SUV, and he opens the door for her, closes it behind her with a gentle smile.
Time to go home.
Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal
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candycityy · 3 years
Text
rumour mill (special ops ft. 104th crack with a dollop of rivetra because it's the weekend, why the hell not)
Friendship is a confusing thing.
As such, despite Hanji Zoë's sheer oddness—Levi really doesn't know any other way to put it—he counts her as one of his very, very few friends. At least, inside his head.
It's a friendship that most people don't understand, him least of all. But for what they lack in the conventional features of friendship—things in common, trips to town, et cetera—they make up in one particularly powerful phenomenon: gossip.
"Kirschtein tried to send Ackerman a love letter today," Levi reports, the second they sit down at the officers' table. As expected, Hanji's jaw drops in quite a gratifying manner.
"No," she breathes. "How'd you know?"
The captain allows himself the faintest hint of a smirk. "I caught him hovering outside the women's barracks. Apparently there's some sort of holiday coming up—"
"St. Valentine's Day." The mad scientist nods wisely. "I'm familiar."
"Whatever," Levi snaps. "Anyway, he was just waiting outside there for the longest time, like a creep, clutching an envelope in his hands."
"For how long?"
"Ten minutes. I counted." Hanji lets out a muffled scream of laughter, which garners them a very pointed look from Erwin. Levi glares at her.
She shuts up.
"So, then, I finally go up to him and ask him what the fuck he's up to, and the brat looks like he's about to shit himself." He rolls his eyes. "It took some...persuasion...but he ended up confessing that he was trying to pass something to Ackerman."
"How'd you know it was a love letter, though? It could've been something lame, like a report," Hanji points out. He rolls his eyes.
"Four-Eyes, the envelope was scented. But that's not all."
"No!" Hanji repeats, looking like she's on the verge of passing out with excitement. "Then what happened? Did he end up passing it to her?"
"I was just about to send him off, but then guess who walks right out of the door." A wicked gleam flashes in his eyes. "Jaeger."
"He didn't!"
"He did. And then of course the shitty brat demands to know what he's doing there, and Kirschtein gets all defensive asking what he's doing there, and then Jaeger grabs the letter and reads it and I swear, he yells so loudly I was afraid he was gonna go all titan-mode on Kirschtein's ass."
"And I don't suppose the poor guy stood there and let him read it?"
Levi snorts. "Of course not. Kirschtein ended up in the med bay and Jaeger lost another tooth, but whatever, it's probably grown back already. But look." He nods discreetly at the recruits' table, where the two boys are resolutely glaring off in opposite directions, while Mikasa sits in between, obliviously tucking into her potato stew. "I guess they haven't made up yet, the brats."
"Poor things. Love is hard," Hanji says. She sounds almost sympathetic, and perhaps he'd believe she was, if not for the almost maniacally wide grin on her face.
Levi just sips at his tea and smirks.
==
The new members of the Survey Corps stares at the officers' table, where Captain Levi and Squad Leader Hanji appear be deep in conversation. As they watch, the brunette lets out a peal of laughter, and the ordinarily impassive captain's lips quirk into something that is almost a smile.
There's a collective intake of breath. "You see?" Connie whispers heatedly. "The captain smiled. I told you they had something going on."
"I think it's adorable," Krista goes dreamily. Ymir snorts.
"That's rubbish," she declares. "I don't think Captain Levi is capable of like, a relationship. He's too busy being a scary, frigid bastard."
"Keep your voice down," Eren implores, his eyes darting to the table. "And the captain's actually really nice—he's just, uh, got a strange way of showing it."
"Whatever, Jaeger, we all know you have some sort of hero-worship crush on the captain anyway—"
"I do not!"
"As if Eren would ever," Mikasa sniffs. "As if anyone would ever like that shorty, he's so full of himself—"
"Keep your voice down." Eren looks around nervously. "And I honestly don't think Captain Levi has anything going on with Squad Leader Hanji. In fact, if anything..." He lowers his voice dramatically, and everyone leans in, even Ymir. "I'd suspect he has something on with Ms Petra."
There's a shocked silence. Sasha interrupts it by bursting into laughter. "Petra Ral? The lady in your squad?" she giggles. "You've got to be joking, she's way too nice for him."
"And way too cute," Jean interrupts with a snigger. "Although, at least she's shorter than him, ha—"
"I still think he has something going on with Squad Leader Hanji," Connie says firmly. He grins mischievously. "And if there are any disagreements...well, anyone care to settle it with a bet?"
==
"Guys," Eld announces, striding into the room and grinning like he's just won the lottery, "you'll never believe what I overheard at dinner."
Petra yawns. Gunther shrugs. "Don't know, don't care," Auruo goes, wincing as he stretches in his chair. "Training was a bitch today, I just wanna get to bed."
"Well, you'll reconsider when you hear this." The squad's second-in-command leans forward, his eyes gleaming. "The captain and Squad Leader Hanji have something going on."
For a moment, no-one moves.
"Wow." Auruo stares at him with awe. "Did you take a hit on the head with a tree branch this morning or something?"
"Even if it was true, you've some nerve telling us." Gunther rolls his eyes in amused disbelief. "The captain could walk in any minute, you know."
"I'm keeping a lookout," Eld insists. "But it's true! I overheard the kids talking about it, and you know that Captain Levi spends almost all his time with them these days, them and the Jaeger brat. They must've seen or heard something."
"If the captain was dating anyone, Petra'd be the first to know," Gunther points out wisely, and turns to their sole female squadmate, and Captain Levi's alleged favourite "Right, Pet...?"
He trails off when he catches sight of the look on the woman's face. Her usually sunny demeanour has been replaced by something pale, stony-faced, and all in all quite terrifying.
There's an awkward silence. "Petra?" Eld ventures. "Is it...is it true then? About the captain dating—"
"Dating who, now?"
Everyone except Petra leaps to their feet instantly, their eagerness quelling to a deer-in-headlights guilt as the man in question stalks through the doors, as silently and with rather the same, threatening air of a predator cornering its prey.
"Eld, you ass," Gunther mutters out of the side of his mouth at the failed lookout.
Auruo, on the other hand, glances sideways at Petra, who remains seated, the strange, cold fury still on her face, her fists clenched at her sides. "What are you doing?" he hisses. "Get up."
She ignores him. "Captain," she says instead, her voice frighteningly calm, "Eld was just talking about a rumour he'd heard."
The man laughs nervously. "Petra," he mutters through a forced smile, "I don't think the captain needs to hear about this."
She continues on, as though she hadn't heard him. "Apparently," she says, her words taking on a note so decidedly threatening that even Humanity's Strongest soldier starts looking slightly nervous, "you're dating Squad Leader Hanji. Is that true, sir?"
The last word hangs in the air, like a warning. The captain blinks.
And makes a sound low in his throat that sounds almost, incredibly, like a muffled snort.
For some reason, Petra seems to take offense at it. She shoves her chair back, sends him one last look of absolute loathing (the boys suck in bated breaths at that), and flounces out of the room, slamming the door bodily behind her.
No-one says anything. The captain's expression doesn't shift a centimetre.
"...uh, sir?" Gunther finally ventures, after a full thirty seconds of silence. "Are you...all right?"
The question seems to snap him out of his reverie. He rounds on Eld, even as his face remains a mask of deadly calm.
"Where," he asks icily, "did you hear that?"
"The kids," Eld confesses after a moment's hesitation.
Captain Levi mutters a curse under his breath.
==
Several fingers point, at once, to Connie Springer.
He sputters, looking around wildly at the traitors. "It wasn't just me!" he cries, and glares accusingly at his comrades. "Krista, you agreed, too!"
Ymir steps protectively in front of the blonde girl. "Don't you pin this on her," she snarls.
"Well, she did," Mikasa says, as deadpan as ever. "So? What's this about? Is it true, sir?" The recruits turn a shade paler at her blunt remark. Eren elbows her in the side, and yelps as his arm collides with what seems to be a wall of solid muscle.
Levi glares at the lot of them. "You shitty brats really don't have a brain cell between the lot of you, do you," he barks. "I've never heard anything so stupid in my life."
"If I may, sir," Mikasa goes smoothly, even as Sasha hisses at her to shut up already, "if it was rubbish anyway, why waste your time coming after us? Gossip isn't exactly a subject worth your attention.
"Yes, captain," another voice comes snidely from behind him. It's Petra, arms folded and glaring daggers, lips twisted in a frown that looks quite out of place on her ordinarily cheerful face. "Why bother?"
Eren's eyes widen, darting rapidly from the captain to his pissed-off subordinate. A look of gleeful understanding dawns on his face.
"Oh," he breathes. "Ms Petra, you're dating the captain, aren't you?"
There's an awkward silence. "None of your business," Levi snaps, just as Petra replies, "No."
The captain turns to her, incredulously. "No?"
"Did I say something wrong, sir?" she drawls. They glare at each other in a silent argument that goes on for a few heated moments, before Levi finally looks away.
"Fine," he growls. "I'm not with Four-Eyes. I'm...I'm with Ral here. And no-one outside this room needs to hear a fucking word of this, understand?"
"Yes, sir!" the recruits chorus in unison, thumping their fists over their hearts with suppressed grins. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Connie Springer and Sasha Braus discreetly exchange coins.
He decides to ignore this.
"Anything else?" he asks, folding his arms and turning his best glare on them.
Nobody dares to move. At least, until Eren raises a tentative hand.
"If it helps," he volunteers, "I betted on you, Ms Petra."
Petra doesn't smile. "Thank you, Eren."
==
"Captain!" Eld exclaims, bursting into the room two days later. "Is it true that you and Pet—"
"Fucking hell."
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nyxshadowhawk · 3 years
Text
The Lady of the Labyrinth
My entry for @dionysia-ta-astika's City Dionysia contest! I'm very proud of myself for having finished it in a week, and I thought I'd share it here on my own blog.
Hail Dionysus!
*** Everything was lost. My brother was dead. My love was gone.
I was also stranded on a deserted island. I stared out at the vast, empty expanse of the sea. The sunlight on the waves winked at me with a thousand eyes, as though diamonds had been scattered across the surface of the water. Anyone would find this beach tranquil, I suppose, if they were here under different circumstances than mine.
My brother’s name was Asterion.
Most people didn’t know his name, or even that he had one. To most people, he was the Minotaur, a horrible monster with the body of a man and the head of a bull that eats people. Asterion was a monster, and he did eat people.
Beneath my father’s shining palace, he prowled the twists and turns of the Labyrinth that my father’s genius architect built. The Labyrinth was mine, once. Daedalus made it for me as a dancing path, when I was a little girl. But now it is a dark, disorienting maze of seemingly endless passageways, and I was still the only person who knew how to navigate it. When I could have time alone, I would go to the Labyrinth. I felt my way through its pitch-black corridors, memorizing the nicks and cracks in the rough stone, trying to calm my thoughts. I spoke to Asterion through the walls: “You have never seen the sun,” I said to him. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like in the outside world? Or do you like it down here?” I received no answer from the surrounding darkness. If I did hear something — a snort, or hooves on stone, I would have to run as fast as I could away from the sound. Even I couldn’t go too near Asterion — I wouldn’t want to run the risk that he might attack me.
“Why do you go down there?” My sister, Phaedra, asked me. “What could possibly be appealing about that dark, dismal place?”
“I like it down there,” I said, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as I could. “It is peaceful. And I don’t mind the dark.”
She looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted bull’s horns myself. “You know you risk your life every time you enter the Labyrinth, right?”
“He’s our brother,” I said. I don’t know what I intended to explain by saying that. I felt like I had a responsibility to him that extended beyond simply being his sister. I tried to see a man in him, although he sniffed and bellowed and charged like a bull. He could gore me to death like a bull, but I did not fear him. “I can’t say I love him, but I feel something.”
“You shouldn’t feel any sympathy for him. He’s a freak of nature. The gods cursed us with him for our father’s arrogance. He is a shame upon our kingdom.”
She was right, of course. The gods gifted us a beautiful white bull that we were meant to sacrifice to Poseidon, but my father decided to keep it instead. And Poseidon cursed us… Asterion is the unholy offspring of my mother and the bull. And it gets worse. Every seven years, seven young men and seven young women from the city of Athens were brought to the Labyrinth to be fed to my brother. This was because my other brother, whom I was too young to remember, died while in Athens. Athens pays for this slight with the lives of other young people.
I suppose it’s no different than war, or at least, that’s what my father says. All cities send their youths to die for the polis. How was this any different? I could hardly bear the prisoners’ wails of desperation or their pleas for me to help them. When I heard they were coming, I begged my father to set them free, asserting that it was wrong to sacrifice humans to anything. If the gods had cast Tantalus into Tartarus for feeding them his son, then why should we knowingly feed humans to a monster? He laughed at me and asked why I had no pride in my family.
I hated the thought of the fourteen young people being fed to him, but I also couldn’t imagine killing my own brother, even if he was a monster.
I was too young to remember the last time the prisoners came to the Labyrinth. They had come, and my brother had gorged himself on their flesh, and I was none the wiser. This time, I knew, and the horror of it struck me silent as the tributes were paraded through the city like animal sacrifices to the gods, so that we could all see those who were doomed to die. I could hardly bear to look at them. Some of those girls were barely older than me. It felt wrong to sit by and watch as they were brought to the Labyrinth. But what could I do to save their lives? Supplicating my father would not work, and the only other option was helping them to escape, somehow. How could I do that?
In spite of myself, I caught sight of one of the young men. He was handsome, and he had a defiant, blazing look in his eye. He looked straight at my father on his throne. “I am Theseus of Athens!” he declared. “I have come to slay your monstrous son!”
My father had laughed at him, but he consumed my thoughts. That may be because he was absolutely gorgeous, but it was also because if he succeeded at killing Asterion, he would solve all my problems. I wouldn’t have to take my own brother’s life, but he would devour no more innocent lives. And, if this youth survived, he might take me away with him. I knew the Labyrinth better than anyone. Even if he did survive, he could never make it in and out without my help.
Forgive me, Asterion.
The prisoners were held in two dank cells near the entrance to the Labyrinth. The women were kept in one, and the men were kept in the other. Many of the prisoners were crying — not just the women, but the men, too. In my familiarity with the Labyrinth and its inhabitant, I had forgotten just how terrifying both would be to anyone else. The Labyrinth’s darkness and maddening complexity would intimidate anyone, and the prospect of being eaten by a monster within its depths was horrific.
Only Theseus seemed calm. His boldness in front of my father hadn’t been an act. His jaw was set, and he still had raw determination in his steely eyes. He was really going to do it, wasn’t he? He actually meant to kill Asterion. He shone like gold in the gloom of the dungeon — he could have been Apollo. If our circumstances were different, I might have wanted to stroke his chest. “Who are you?” he demanded when I approached the cell, as though I were the one behind bars, and had requested an audience with him.
“I am Ariadne,” I said, “daughter of Minos, princess of Crete.”
“I am Theseus, son of Aegeus, prince of Athens,” he returned.
Prince of Athens. That explained his noble bearing and proud mien, not to mention his handsome features… and yet… “There is no way the King of Athens would have sent his own son to be fed to the Minotaur,” I said. “Why are you really here?”
“I said, didn’t I? I’m here to slay the Minotaur. I volunteered as tribute.” He smirked. “I promised my father that I would return alive. No more of our people will be sacrificed to the monster!”
“You speak with a lot of confidence for someone who is currently in a prison cell,” I said. “What are you going to do, Theseus? Do you have a plan?”
“Of course I have a plan!” he said, a little defensively. “I am going to break out of this cell. And then I will conquer the Labyrinth—”
“How? You’ll be dead of starvation before you even reach the Minotaur, assuming he doesn’t find you first.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you taunting me?”
I leaned forward, looking directly into his eyes. “No. I was actually going to offer to help you. I know the Labyrinth. I go into it all the time.”
“No, you don’t. You’re trying to get me to sleep with you. Or trying to deceive me on behalf of Minos.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t find anything to say in response to that. For a moment I just stared at him. Was he always this self-assured, even in the worst of circumstances? If he wanted to sleep with me, I certainly wouldn’t complain, but why would he assume that I would deceive him? Well, perhaps it was his right to be suspicious, in a strange land where he was kept as a prisoner. “I… no,” I finally replied. “I’m being serious. I’m here to help you.”
“Why, then?”
“I think it is very noble of you to want to save the other Athenians, and I agree that no more innocent lives should be lost.”
He smiled slightly, but still looked suspicious. “You have no loyalty to your father?”
“My father is cruel and selfish. Why else do you think my mother gave birth to a monster, anyway?”
“The monster is your brother? What was his father, a bull?”
“Yes.”
That seemed to have stunned him into silence. I felt some satisfaction at that. “Listen to me. Without my help, you will not get through the Labyrinth. If you want to kill the Minotaur, you need me.”
“What’s the catch?” he asked. “You’re going to want something in return, aren’t you? What?”
“Take me off this accursed rock,” I said. “I am sick of Crete, I’m sick of my father, and I don’t want to have to put up with whatever punishment he might give me for helping you.”
“Well, you are a princess, and I suppose you would make a fine bride for me.”
My heart leapt at those words, and I felt myself blushing. Perhaps I should have known better. “Really? You would marry me?”
“If you help me to slay the Minotaur, then yes, I will marry you.”
“Deal.”
Theseus remained in my thoughts from that point onward. When I closed my eyes, I saw his face, and I imagined the feel of his skin. I’d never seen a man like him before, and oh, if I married him… would I be happy? Happier than I was here, at least? He seemed like the kind of man that Phaedra and I dreamed we would marry as young girls — strong, brave, handsome, and willing to put himself on the line for the sake of his people. All such admirable qualities.
I returned to Theseus when the prisoners were locked into the Labyrinth’s abyssal maw. “Everyone else, stay back!” he ordered, as though he were directing troops. “I will go into the Labyrinth and kill the Minotaur. Stay here, and you will be safe.” He suddenly turned to me. “What have you brought to help me?”
I held out a humble ball of yarn. “This.”
He took it from my hand and raised an eyebrow at it, looking as though he might throw it into the dark. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Daedalus gave it to me when I first started exploring the Labyrinth.”
“Daedalus? I’ve heard of Daedalus. He is supposed to be the most brilliant architect in the world, right?”
“He built this Labyrinth, and he gave me the yarn. All you have to do is tie the end here and carry it through the maze. Then you can follow it back out.”
Theseus looked impressed. “He must be a genius to have thought of something like that!”
He may have been a genius, but I was still intelligent enough to figure it out on my own. All Daedalus had done was hand me the ball of yarn, and I immediately understood what I was meant to do with it. But I didn’t bother correcting Theseus. “Do you have a weapon?”
“No,” said Theseus. “I’m not worried. I’ll kill the beast with my bare hands.”
I blinked at him, dumbfounded. I suppose if anyone could do it, he could; he was almost as musclebound as the bull-man. But still. Only an extremely impressive hero with divine lineage could hope to kill a monster bare-handed, that or a total idiot. “You are going to die.”
“Nonsense!” He smiled. “Haven’t died yet! And I have faced many deadly trials before.”
I smiled back. “I’m sure you have, but, well, it’s your funeral.”
“Do you want this monster dead, or not?” he demanded.
“Woah, I wasn’t being serious, I…” To be asked that question point-blank was unsettling. It threw my whole dilemma into focus. But seeing the terrified faces of the other tributes huddled naked in the entrance to the Labyrinth gave me my answer. “Yes.”
“I shall go then.” He tied the yarn to the gate and strode with it into the dark. I admired his confidence, even if the odds were against him. He turned the first corner, and was gone. I stared into the darkness for a moment.
One of the girls gripped the hem of my dress. “Please,” she whispered. “Please help us, my lady. We did nothing to be here. If he dies, will you help us escape?”
I didn’t look at her. I kept staring into the Labyrinth’s depths. “I will do what I can,” I said slowly. Then I followed Theseus. I heard her gasp behind me, as if her last hope had just walked away.
I overtook Theseus quickly. He was moving slowly, blindly hitting walls and getting disoriented by the serpentine turns. He jumped when he heard me behind him, turned on his heel and braced for attack, staring me down with the intensity of a bull about to charge. Then he softened. “Oh. It’s you. What are you doing here? I don’t need your help.”
“I know this place better than you do,” I said matter-of-factly.
He huffed in response. “Get back to the entrance. The Minotaur could arrive at any moment.”
I walked ahead of him. “I know. Every time I explore the Labyrinth, I risk death.”
“Why would you explore this place?” he asked, following me. “What could it possibly offer a girl like you?”
“Peace. Solitude. Time away from my father.”
“This Labyrinth is maddening!” His growing frustration echoed off the walls. “How are you not mad? Perhaps you are mad, with the things you say.”
“I’ve never considered that I might be mad.”
“Only if you were mad would you willingly choose to be in this dark prison.”
“You willingly chose to be here.”
He had no response. We walked in silence for a while, dragging the thread behind us. It was almost impossible to see the thread in the dark. I could tell that Theseus was starting to get agitated. The twining paths of the Labyrinth must be making him feel like we were making no progress. The grim silence and high stone walls made us feel completely cut off from the outside world, like there was no world at all beyond the Labyrinth. “Do you think this is what Hades is like?” he asked. “A deep cavern, under the earth, where there is nothing to do but walk endlessly?”
I couldn’t tell whether that was a sincere philosophical question, or whether he was asking indignantly. “I don’t know. The Fields of Asphodel are supposed to be open, and full of the white flowers… Not quite like this.”
“It makes no difference to me anyway. I will assuredly go to Elysium when I die, and it is the most agreeable part of Hades.”
If Hades is exactly like this, I thought, then perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. There are worse things than this.
Eventually, we passed the point where I usually turned back. I had never gotten this close to the center before. And then we heard it — the unmistakable sound of hooves. Cold terror gripped me. I did not expect to feel this afraid, especially not of my own brother, but the reality of the situation sank in. We were in a Labyrinth with a flesh-eating monster, and the exit was too far away for any chance of escape. Why did I follow him? Why did I think that was a good idea?
“Our quarry is upon us! You should leave,” said Theseus sternly. “The monster eats the maidens first, so I hear.”
The instinct to run left me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Suit yourself, but you will not be able to fight against the Minotaur.”
“You will protect me, will you?” Being with him felt safe, like he was a bodyguard.
“I will.” As soon as he said that, my fear was banished, and my confidence restored.
A few more turns, and we reached the center of the Labyrinth, a place I figured I’d never enter. In the gloom, I couldn’t actually see much, but I was able to see the hulking shape of my brother with his huge bull’s head and wicked-looking horns.
“There is the beast!” A light suddenly blazed to life beside me, and I cringed away from its brightness. It was a torch.
“Did you have that the whole time?”
“I was saving it!” He handed me the torch and the end of the yarn, and I took them, nonplussed. I saw the floor of the Labyrinth’s center, full of human bones. “Wait there, I will make swift work of this!” Theseus took a fighting stance, muscles tensed.
Asterion looked at me. I felt blind panic grip me, but he did not attack me. Perhaps he recognized me. He must have been familiar with my presence and voice by now, enough to know I wasn’t a threat. I stared into his black bull eyes. They were soft, not fiery and enraged. This was my brother. “Asterion… I’m so sorry, Asterion.”
“What are you doing? Get back!”
Theseus’ yell attracted Asterion’s attention. He roared and rushed forward with his powerful legs, horns lowered and ready to gore him to death. Theseus grabbed Asterion’s horns and hurled himself up onto the Minotaur’s back, holding him in a chokehold with both arms. “I shall send you to the pit of Tartarus, fiend!” Asterion thrashed and bucked and slammed Theseus against the wall, but soon enough, it was over. Theseus had strangled the Minotaur. Asterion lay dead.
Theseus picked himself up, looking exhausted but triumphant. “Victory! No Athenians will die today, or ever! This monster will never claim another human life!” He grinned at me. “See, I told you I could do it with my bare hands!”
I stared at the mass of Asterion’s body. “I killed my brother…”
“Nonsense!” Theseus took the torch back from me. The bones crunched under his feet as he walked. “It is hardly your fault that you are the sister of a beast. We have done a good and heroic thing today. Look, look at the bones! Why are you crying, Ariadne?”
I suddenly looked at him instead of the Minotaur’s corpse. I don’t think he’d said my name before. Even in the dim torchlight, he still looked bright, with clear eyes and golden hair and bronze skin slick with sweat. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Ariadne.” He smiled at me. “Thank you. Together we have saved many lives.”
He kissed me, and the torch went out.
The following events were a blur. After we had successfully followed the thread out of the Labyrinth, Theseus triumphantly announced to my father that the Minotaur was dead, and demanded me and my sister as prizes. My father was furious — of course he was. He had essentially just lost all of his children, and all because one had died in Athens before I was old enough to remember. I, however, was elated, and so was Phaedra. Phaedra was as eager to leave Crete as I was, and she seemed just as taken with Theseus’ handsomeness. She didn’t seem distressed that Asterion was dead, and why would she? The grateful Athenians went back to their ship, many of them sobbing with relief. I didn’t look at my father as I followed Theseus to the ship. I never wanted to look at him again. We passed by Talos, and I left Knossos and the Labyrinth behind me.
Crete faded into the horizon, and before me was sunshine and new possibilities. Theseus glowed with triumph and pride, smiling at me and kissing me when he announced to the other Athenians that he would marry me, and that I would become their queen. They fell to their knees and showered me and Theseus with gratitude for having saved their lives. I felt almost as if I were a goddess. Wine flowed freely in celebration, and I took more joy in it than I had in a long time.
It did not last long. Soon after the first few hours I was, if possible, even more miserable on Theseus’ ship than I had been in Knossos. I quickly became tired of his boasts about how he had strangled the beast, without crediting me at all, or so much as mentioning the ball of yarn, even though the other Athenians had seen me give it to him and seen me follow him into the Labyrinth. Every time he told the story, it got further from the truth, and emphasized his own heroism over mine. Is this how it would be when I was queen? No matter what I did, I’d be shunted to the side? Then, Theseus seemed to be doting on Phaedra. She usually attracted more attention. She was prettier than me. She had blond hair that shined in the sunlight and the bright eyes of our mother Pasiphae, the daughter of Helios. My hair and eyes were dark, like the Labyrinth.
I left the celebration, finding a quiet spot on deck. I sat by the edge of the ship, staring out into the open waves and trying not to think about Asterion, but the image of him lying dead in the torchlight haunted me. “Are you okay, Ariadne?” Phaedra asked me. “What is wrong? We are finally out of there, all thanks to you! No more Minotaur, no more tributes having to die, no more Father… We will have a new life in Athens.” I stayed silent. “You look despondent. Something’s wrong.”
I looked up into her eyes. “It’s like you said, Phaedra. Asterion is dead.”
“Do you… mourn him?”
“He was our brother, and I killed him!”
“Theseus killed him! You did nothing!” I knew that she meant to reassure me, but it touched a raw nerve.
“He would not have if I hadn’t led him straight to the center of the Labyrinth!”
“Ariadne…” Phaedra put her hand on my shoulder. “You… you’re… you’ll be okay. You are just a little bit disoriented.” She left me alone.
I looked at the Athenians, who laughed and danced and celebrated their lives. I didn’t feel like dancing. I already missed the Labyrinth. My guilt drew my thoughts back to Knossos. I wanted to hide in the Labyrinth forever, like Asterion had, or else throw myself into the sea for my guilt. The brightness of the waves was glaring compared to the soothing darkness of the Labyrinth.
Theseus approached me from behind. He had been ignoring me until now, maybe because I was so sorrowful. I could feel that he was angry at me, and my skin crawled, but I didn’t turn. “What cause do you have to weep, Ariadne? You should be happy!” he said.
“I am sorry, Theseus. Part of me still mourns for my brother.”
“What is the matter with you? All you have done is sit and stare at the water! If you loved that Labyrinth so much, perhaps you should have stayed there! Now please, put this sorrow behind you. You have no cause for it.” He sighed, softening. “When we arrive in Athens, we shall marry, and there will be much rejoicing.”
“Leave me alone.” The bitterness in my voice rang louder than I’d intended.
He scowled at me.“You are joyless, passionless, and thankless,” he spat, and stalked off. The word useless went unsaid; I could tell he was reconsidering making me his wife.
“Theseus, wait!” I yelled, suddenly sounding desperate.
I stood up, and he turned back to look at me, and I felt as if I were naked under his gaze and that of the others on the ship, which had all quieted and turned in my direction. His eyes were cold, and his nostrils flared just as Asterion’s had. “What, Ariadne? You have shown me neither gratitude nor pleasure, you have not acted like a princess. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Shamed, I said nothing. I sat back down. Then, as he was about to turn away again, I suddenly found my voice. “Why are you being cruel?”
“I am not being cruel. You are being difficult.”
By the time we reached Naxos, I was feeling heartbroken as well as grief-stricken. Theseus was giving me the silent treatment. I think he expected me to come running to him begging for forgiveness. We stopped on the island to rest, primarily because Theseus had dreamt that he would stop here during his homecoming.
I took off my sandals and walked along the edge of the surf to clear my thoughts. The beach was bright and wide and open, the exact opposite of the Labyrinth. Even in the sand, I felt his heavy footsteps approaching behind me. “Ariadne, we need to talk.”
I continued to face away from him. “What?”
“Ariadne, I find your attitude disagreeable.”
I turned on my heel to face him, planting myself in the sand. “I’ve found your attitude disagreeable! All you have done since we left Crete is boast about your heroics, and you’ve barely given me any credit—”
“Credit! You want credit for having slain it, when all you have done is cry over the hideous thing?”
The disdain in his voice stung me like arrows. “You don’t care at all for me or my feelings, do you?”
“If you were to become my queen, I would expect better behavior from you.” He sounded like he was lecturing a child.
“Well… I don’t want to be your queen! You are almost as bad as my father!”
“Good. I have already decided to take your sister Phaedra as my bride instead.” I didn’t reply. “You may still return with us to Athens, but we will have to make other arrangements for you.”
Forget Athens. I didn’t want Theseus to do anything for me. “Oh, forgive me for having been such a disappointment to you! Go ahead, go back to Athens and marry my sister! By Zeus! I’ve had enough of you!”
And I ran. I turned away from Theseus and ran down the beach until my legs gave out, falling in the sand to sulk and wonder where it all went wrong. I regretted having ever met Theseus, or helped him to kill my brother. If I could undo it all, I would. No. Then innocent people would have died. Oh, gods, why am I so wretched?
And then, as I was just beginning to calm down, I saw that the ship was sailing away over the waves. I was stranded on the island. Despair and panic crashed down upon me. Oh gods, gods, why? Had I somehow been forgotten about, or left behind on purpose? Had Theseus doomed me to die? “CURSE you, Theseus!” I screamed at the distant ship. I watched it go until it disappeared over the horizon. I could do nothing but hopelessly stare at the wine-dark sea as the sun set.
“Excuse me, why are you crying?”
I had been sitting with my head in my arms, weeping despondently, and I was startled by the sudden voice, soft though it was. I was certain the island was deserted, but now, a young man stood before me. He was silhouetted against the sky, the sun shining behind his head like a halo. Where had he come from? I hadn’t heard him come. It was though he’d simply stepped out of the sea.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and my voice sounded cracked from crying. “I thought I was alone.”
“May I sit with you?” the man asked. “You look like you could use a drink, something to soothe you, hm?”
“Yes… yes, thank you.”
He sat down in the sand next to me, languidly stretching his legs out in front of him like he was sitting on the plushest couch. With the sunlight on him, I could see him properly — he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my life. He easily put Theseus to shame. His eyes were leafy green, warm and kind. He was lithe, and his skin looked as pale and smooth as a girl’s, and his lips looked so soft. I couldn’t place the color of his hair — it seemed to be dark brown, but it could have been as dark as the Styx, and when the sun caught it, it looked honey-gold. It fell over his shoulders in loose curls. He wore nothing but a fine purple cloak draped over one shoulder, a golden leopard skin around his waist, and a wreath of ivy on his head. His cheeks were flushed, and he had a bright, easy smile. He was so lovely, so breathtaking, it almost hurt to look at him. With delicate hands, he offered me a kylix brimming with wine. “Please, tell me what has made you so upset.”
I blinked at the kylix, and the leopard skin, and the ivy in his hair. “Are you… a Bacchant?” I’d heard of them. They worshipped a mad and savage god with drunken orgies in the woods, and were said to be able to rip animals or even people limb-from-limb in their frenzy. Not unlike Asterion, I suppose.
He flashed a devious smile. “Maaaaybe.”
I took the kylix and drank deeply. The wine was sweet, and somehow, I felt immediately calmer. Slowly, amid my lingering sobs, I told the story — about Asterion, and my father, and the tributes, how I’d decided to help Theseus, how we’d found our way through the Labyrinth, how Theseus had killed Asterion, how Theseus had been so heartless, and how he had apparently left me to die on a deserted island. By the time I finished talking, the kylix was empty.
“How do you feel now?” he asked me.
“Better… I think. But I’m still devastated, and… guilty. My brother’s death… it was really my fault, and I don’t know if I did the right thing or not. Do you think it’s wrong for me to grieve for my brother? I mean… he was a monster…”
“No. I don’t think it’s wrong. It is perfectly understandable that you would mourn your brother.”
“If I had let the Athenians die, I would have mourned for them, too.” I sighed.
“Yes. There must be blood; one sacrifice was traded for another, Asterion, the worthy bull. It is okay to grieve, for as long as you need to, but do not wallow in despair.”
“I tend to do that. I don’t remember the last time I was completely happy. I thought Theseus would make me happy, but… then… I wish I had my Labyrinth back! It was at least soothing down there.”
“It pains me to see people sad,” he said. He handed me the kylix again, and it was once again full of wine. I hadn’t seen him fill it. “Pleasure is a state of mind. The best way to rid yourself of sadness is to focus on things that make you happy. There is always something to take pleasure in! Like the beauty of the sunset, or the sound of the lapping waves. Or wine!”
“Not when you are abandoned to die, with no way off the island,” I said. “How did you get here, anyway? I don’t see a boat.”
“I have my ways,” he said cryptically, with that same mischievous smile. That smile and the teasing sparkle in his eyes were so adorable. His beauty is something to take pleasure in, I suddenly thought, and his company, and kindness…
I took another draught of the wine. “Why are the gods so cruel to me?” I murmured, more to myself than to him.
“The gods are not cruel to you.” He stated it with complete confidence, as though it were an undeniable fact, not as though he were trying to convince me.
“It certainly seems that way,” I replied.
“Life can often seem that way, but then, it gets better, and you will find that the gods favor you,” he said.
“Well… I suppose that must be true, if handsome strangers pop out of nowhere to comfort women.”
He beamed. “Exactly!” He took the kylix back from me, threw his head back, and drained about half of it in one gulp. “You know, I was stranded on a desert island like this one once.”
“Wait, what? You were?”
“Yes! It was a long time ago now, but I was just as pretty back then, and just as fond of wearing purple. Purple is the best color, you know.” He winked. “Anyway, so I was lying asleep on a beach and—” he took another swig of the wine, “a pirate ship rows by…”
“Are you drunk?”
“Always, darling!” That roguish grin of his was really starting to win me over. “Anyway, the pirates saw me sleeping on the beach, saw how pretty I was and saw my fine purple robes, and thought I was a prince. Well. They weren’t wrong… I technically am a prince of Thebes, on my mother’s side.” He laughed like he had just told the most hilarious joke and had another sip of the wine. The amount of wine in the kylix never seemed to get any lower.
“Does that mean… you’re a bastard?” I asked hesitantly.
“Yes, yes it does! I’m such a bastard. I mean… I was born out of wedlock. And my father’s wife, oooh, she hates me.” Another sip of the wine. “Never get on her bad side if you can help it.” He pointed at me as if this was the most important information I could ever learn, and I laughed. “She can’t touch me now, but she drove me mad when I was younger. Literally. Anyway, so these pirates kidnapped me. Thought I’d make a damn cute catamite, and I certainly would, but that’s beside the point. You don’t and kidnap boys no matter how pretty they are. I tried to tell my dad that, but it didn’t go over well.” Another sip of the wine.
“You are slender, but I bet you could take Theseus in a drinking contest.”
“Oh, I could take aaaaaanyone in a drinking contest! Never lost one yet!” His face was glowing, not just with blush from the wine but also with infectious joy. I slowly forgot about my misfortunes as I listened to his story. “So they tried to tie me to the ship’s mast, but found they couldn’t do it. I only tolerate bondage on my own terms. And then…” There was suddenly a mad gleam in his green eyes. “I covered their ship in grapevines, and ivy, and flowers, and the delicious smell of wine. I can’t imagine why such delightful things frightened them so. But I thought I’d scare them more, see, because it was funny. So I turned into a lion! And they flung themselves overboard in fear!” He laughed, and his laugh sounded as musical as flutes on a clear morning, but it had a maddened edge to it. “But I pitied them, y’know?” he continued. “Just as you pity your brother. So I changed them into dolphins. So they wouldn’t drown.”
“You changed… you turned into… did… did your god give you those powers? Or… are you just… really… drunk?” But I knew. I think that intuitively, I knew the whole time.
“Easy,” he said, once again raising the bottomless kylix to his lips with that knowing smile. “I’m really drunk.”
At this, I burst out laughing, and my laugh sounded almost unfamiliar to my own ears. I felt light, carefree, replenished. And then it sank in, that I was speaking to a god. I hastily knelt, and dropped my head before him, although he was still sitting next to me. “Lord Dionysus! Son of Zeus! Lord, lord, thank you for coming to me, for talking to me, for relieving me of my pain, for freeing me from my suffering…”
“You’re welcome, Ariadne.” He lifted my face, so that I was staring up into his eyes, which were now vivid reddish-purple, the color of ripe grapes. A richly purple aura surrounded him, proclaiming his divinity. In his hand was his staff, a fennel stalk topped with a pinecone that dripped with honey, twined with ivy and purple ribbons. And he had horns, bull’s horns just like my brother’s, magnificent and deadly sharp. They curved up above his brow, as much his crown as the wreath of ivy in his hair. The imposing horns created a striking contrast with his delicate features, but they looked right, somehow. Like this was how he was supposed to look.
I didn’t know what to say. My mind had gone suddenly blank. “I’ve never known great Dionysus to have horns,” I blurted.
“Not many get to see them,” he said, his voice suddenly slow and solemn. “Ariadne, will you dance with me?”
Whatever I had expected him to say, it was not that. “Wh—what?”
“Dance with me!” He stood up and twirled off across the beach. His hair floated around his shoulders, the ribbons on his thyrsus arced through the air like the rainbow, and his expression was one of elation. He screamed in ecstasy, and it was an inhuman sound, like the crowing of some unearthly bird. At that, the air filled with cacophonous music — flutes, drums, cymbals, rattles, castanets.
A command echoed inside my head. No, not a command — a compulsion: DANCE! DANCE!
So I danced with the bull-horned god. “Dancing” barely even begins to describe what I was doing. I was filled with an overwhelming, indescribable feeling, like I didn’t fit in my own skin. Like I was about to be lifted out of my own shoulders! I moved like my body was doing everything it could to express this ineffable thing inside me that was so much bigger than me. I spun, I leapt, I ran, I stamped my feet in the sand, I moved wherever the feeling took me. It burned like fire. And Dionysus was all I could perceive. I screamed with both intense rapture and pure, genuine worship: “EUOI! EUOI! EUOI!”
I met his eyes, and there I saw all the raw ferocity of a bull or a great cat, as well as chaos and lust and debauchery and pure mania. All the forces strong enough to tear a person apart! I desperately thirsted for something I could not name. It was more than wine, more than flesh, more than blood. Dionysus took me in his arms, and kissed me on the lips. Passion overtook me.
Maybe I fainted in exhilaration, or maybe I was simply too drunk to remember. All I know was that I was eventually awakened by the sunrise and the sound of lapping waves. And Dionysus… was still there. He hadn’t disappeared into the night, he was still sleeping there in the sand, looking blissful and alluring in his sleep. His tousled curls tumbled over the sand, his soft hand was upturned beside his head, and his lips were parted invitingly. He lay on his purple cloak, and was using the leopard pelt like a blanket, though it was only carelessly draped over his waist.
“Lord… thank you for not leaving me,” I whispered.
His long eyelashes fluttered, and then his eyes opened, once again appearing vine-green. “Mmmm… sleep well?”
“Yes.” I desperately wanted to kiss him, and the seductive look in his eyes tempted me. “May I… touch you?”
“Darling, you may touch me anywhere you like,” he purred. Ravenously, I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressed my chest to his, and our lips met. He still tasted like wine, and I drank him in the way I would wine. We lay there for a moment, entangled in each other’s arms like grape and ivy vines, idly caressing each other’s skin and hair.
“M’lord…” I whispered, “perhaps it might be impertinent to ask, but… what am I going to do now? I can’t go home. I don’t really want to go to Athens. And I still have no way off this island.”
“Why, Ariadne,” he gave me a teasing smile. “If I may be so bold, I hoped you would join me! In fact… I hope you might marry me.”
I was so taken aback by this that I immediately sat up. “You… you’re serious? Marry you?” I knew that gods frequently took mortal lovers, but this was unimaginable. “Actually marry you?”
“Yes, Ariadne. I love you.” He said it with the same sweetness and sincerity that he initially approached me with. Theseus had said no such thing. “You are not destined to become queen of Athens, but perhaps you might be my queen, if you are willing.”
I burst into tears, but they weren’t tears of sadness this time. They were tears of overwhelm, the same kind of overflowing sensation that I’d felt while dancing. “You love me?”
“I am absolutely besotted, my darling! I have had many lovers, but I had not fallen so madly in love since Ampelos, my first love, my darling vine.” A grapevine appeared between his fingers and twined up his arm. “Perhaps something in me is inclined towards mortals over gods, which is understandable, given my parentage. But, that should be no problem. I will bring you to Olympus, and love you for all of time.”
“How… why me?” I sputtered. “What have I done to deserve this?”
“Ariadne, you are letting your human mind interfere, and convince you that you are not worthy to be in my presence. Did you feel unworthy last night, while we were dancing?”
“No… I felt… there was no such thing.”
“Ariadne, do you love me?”
I struggled to find any word that could properly describe how I felt about him. “You are… utterly intoxicating.”
He giggled like a shy maiden. “I get that a lot. And, if you could be worthy of having me as a husband, would you have me?”
Yes. My body and soul ached and burned with wanting. And he made me extraordinarily happy! I’d never dared to believe a god would love me enough to marry me, but that disbelief was only getting in my way.
He looked me dead in the eyes. I nearly flinched away from the intensity of his gaze, and the shimmering madness behind it. “You are more than you realize, Ariadne, guide in the dark, guardian of the gates of initiation. You are intelligent and witty and brave, and you fear no darkness or madness or savagery, do you? You faced them all in the Labyrinth. You would make an excellent addition to my thiasus, even if you decide not to marry me. Ariadne, the most holy and pure, Lady of the Labyrinth.” His words reverberated deep in the labyrinthine pathways of my own mind and soul, like he had revealed an ancient truth that I had known once, but forgotten.
“The Labyrinth is a holy place, of contemplation and transformation. Isn’t it? Not of death.”
He smiled that gorgeous, winning smile again. “Yes! You understand! And even where there is death, it is not absolute.” His eyes shone with feverish excitement. “Oh, I have so much to teach you!”
“Lord Dionysus, I would be honored beyond imagining if I were to become your wife.”
“So is that a yes? You will marry me?”
Something about him felt right in a way that I could not put words to, like the Fates had done all they could to bring me to this moment. This god loved me, more than the other gods love their conquests, more than I could comprehend. “Yes! I will marry you!”
At that, a cool wind blew across the island, swirling his dark hair around his face and making all the vegetation appear to shimmer. It was like the island itself was affirming my decision. “Then, Ariadne, we shall rule the revel together! In honor of our engagement…” A magnificent diadem appeared in his hands, sparkling with seven gemstones like stars. He placed it on my head, and gave me a warm kiss on my lips. “Ariadne, my bride, may you never thirst. May your lusts never go unsatisfied. May your heart always be light and joyful.”
“Thank you. Thank you, m’lord!”
“You can stop calling me that. If we are to be married, you can simply call me by my name. Or, call me what pleases you. Now, come with me!” He stood, offering me his hand. “Unless you would rather spend some more alone time together, I should finally take you off this island! I will take you home to Nysa, or perhaps to Arcadia, and we will have to throw the most spectacular bacchanal in celebration of our marriage!”
“How will we travel?”
He led me down the beach like a child eager to show something to their parent, and gestured toward a golden chariot drawn by two gigantic panthers. The chariot itself was decorated in images of swirling grapevines and serpents and satyrs making love, and the cats’ pelts gleamed. “Oh, gods… I mean… wow. Does it move over water?”
“It flies, silly!” He stood inside it and beckoned to me. “These cats can run on the wind. Hermes gave them to me.”
I climbed into the chariot and held on for dear life as the panthers bounded into the air with great strides. Soon the chariot was blazing through the bright air, and Naxos was far behind us. Dionysus laughed into the wind, which blew his long hair back from his face. As radiant as he was, I was more than a little terrified of speeding through the air high above the sea in a chariot, and felt like I would fall off at any second, although not even my diadem was dislodged from my head.
“You look terror-stricken, Ariadne. Would you like me to tell you another amusing story? That seems to have cheered you up the last time!”
“That depends on whether you can drive a chariot and get incredibly drunk at the same time.”
He laughed uproariously. “Oh, I love you so much! I can do anything and get incredibly drunk, if you were wondering. So, anyway, the story… Mortals have mixed opinions of me. Most love my parties and stories and love my wine, but they seem a bit put off by the madness and violence and lust it brings out in them… Not sure why, it’s not as though all of that wasn’t there to begin with… Mortal kings do not like this, and some of them can be quite unkind to my worshippers, testing the limits of my mercy… but one of them allowed my mentor, Silenus, to sleep in his garden. So kind of him! So of course I offered him any reward he might wish for, and… he wished that everything he touched would turn to gold.”
“Ooh. Let me guess, it backfired?”
“Oh, did it backfire! His food turned to gold and he nearly starved, and even his daughter turned to gold! Hardly my fault, of course. I promised to give him what he asked for, and I did, he just happened to be an idiot. He had the chance to wish for anything in the world, and he chose something as shallow and pointless as gold. Not to mention, he clearly had never heard of inflation, which makes me worry about his kingdom’s economy. Oh, well. He learned, and I changed everything back. I always let humans indulge themselves, but I am not a god of excess. Either they are satisfied by their pleasures, or they learn their lesson fast. The moral of the story: Know your tolerance. Also, if you want to turn things to gold, you have to do it the hard way. Hermes and I were just discussing how to turn lead to gold, in fact…”
His soothing voice and hilarious tales put me at ease, until we were traveling over beautiful mountains and verdant valleys. I had never seen mainland Greece, but the view of it from the flying chariot was incredible. I was no longer afraid of falling. As we flew, I felt as if the wind stripped me of the cares and sorrows of my former life. Dionysus had set me free. I smiled at him, and he smiled at me as the chariot descended into the lush, hidden valley where a throng of Maenads and satyrs waited to welcome home their lord and his queen.
Dionysus helped me out of the chariot, and I stood before the thiasus, their maddened eyes all turned upon me. “I am the bride of Dionysus,” I proclaimed. “I am Ariadne of the Labyrinth.”
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otomegema · 3 years
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title: Convergence Theory, ch. 2 pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader summary: You are a lesser family member of the Gojo clan, so far removed you don’t even carry the name, but you carry the Limitless ability and thus the potential to be a bride to the future head of the clan— a fact you patently reject at fifteen. Twelve years later you are a second grade sorcerer struggling to obtain first grade status when the object of your deepest objections offers you a deal. rating: mature tropes: fake dating/engagement, rivals to lovers, slow romance Link: Archive of Our Own
It had been a logical move to allow Gojo to take down your number, entering it into his contacts with an obscene amount of heart and wishing star emojis by the brief glance you caught over his shoulder. It looked like he was already banking on your acceptance of the deal, but when you parted, your to-go sushi in a small plastic bag, you hadn’t expected to hear from him until tomorrow evening at the latest.
Or maybe even never.
But now, back in the hotel you were being comped for while in Tokyo, you wished silently that you’d never given that man your cell phone number.
Honey
Baby
Future-pretend-love-of-my-life
Have you made a decision?
He wasn’t human. It was barely 6am, did he wake up this early for lessons every day? You groaned, nearly swatting the phone off the nightstand in the dark.
You shot back a fast reply.
-oh I’m sorry
-I’m still recovering from getting electrocuted the other day
-Some asshat led a curse to me
You rolled over, managing to get at least another decent half hour of sleep in before the phone chimed again, lighting up the darkened hotel room.
\(★ω★)/
YOUR asshat
Should you choose to accept this mission
You threw off your covers, forcing yourself up to sit against the stack of pillows behind you as you tapped out a reply.
-My pretend asshat
-Mother will be so proud
The dots of his reply began immediately.
So is that a yes?
You sighed, rolling your eyes to yourself.
-Day isn’t over -Hasn’t even started tyvm
The dots began. Stopped. Began and stopped again, this time not reappearing. You tossed your phone onto the bed and teetered up and over to the coffee maker. The pot was finishing brewing by the time your phone chimed again.
You’re so slow.
The addition of punctuation and the sudden lack of emoji seemed almost like a warning flare that Gojo’s patience was waning. But you hardly knew the man and really, what did you care? A favor for a favor was what he offered. You didn’t owe him anything.
I have other options too.
His text continued and for a moment you frowned, wondering if his intention was to have that sound like a threat. You felt heat rising in your throat— he didn’t want to play that game.
So no pressure. Genuinely.
Oh. Good. That was better. You felt the tension uncoil as fast as it had grown.
Tho I AM your only hope for advancement <3
You could have thrown the phone right through the wall. Your thumbs worked rapidly, shooting out your reply in no time.
-Ah yes, your finest quality
A quick appearance of dots.
My special grade ranking? (・ω<)☆
You smirked.
-Humility
You’re no fun.
Text me when you are done being boring.
This was probably the most you had ever spoken to Gojo, despite having seen him on and off from a distance for the better half of your life. He was hard to miss. Every event at the main house would have him and his immediate family at the forefront. No one ever stopped talking about Gojo Satoru and his accomplishments and his strength and his skill as a sorcerer.
It was nauseating, having to pretend to nod and smile like it was all some great blessing just to orbit near him. It was bad enough he read like a sun to your abilities, as if he needed to be made to think he was anymore of the center of the universe.
Your palm itched. The desire to tap back a response now, a firm denial, very strong. But not stronger than your excitement at the possibility of being a first grade sorcerer. It was everything you had wanted. Prestige, recognition, tougher missions and the pay and rewards that came with them.
You were no weakling. Sure the telemetry technique took you out of commission, but it was hardly your greatest feat. You had finally been able to manifest the cursed technique lapse, blue. Granted, it was a one off and exhausted you so fully afterwards that you nearly fainted on the spot… but your tolerance was getting better. The precision of your manipulation of your cursed energy would never be on par with Gojo, but you could, some day, maybe even manage to shoot the technique off twice.
Reversal Red was next to impossible. And Hollow Technique? Truly impossible. The Six Eyes was needed to even attempt it. Most of your practice had been devoted to perfecting your long distance teleportation skills, fine tuning your telemetry technique and working on establishing your domain. That one was easier. The Unlimited Void crushed your opponent beneath an overload of sensory information, information you could easily channel and tap into with your own unique skills as a Limitless user.
But like all things, you were only second best. And barely. It was a joke. Comparing yourself to Gojo. He was on a level you could never achieve— unless.
You grabbed your phone, hastily dialing the new number and wincing at the loud, cheerful greeting from the other line.
“Good morning, moon of my soul, tenderest heart, darling—!“
“I haven’t even said yes yet, you monster.”
“Ah! A name of my very own? Be still my trembling heart!”
“I wish to make an amendment to the agreement.”
There was a lengthy pause. You could practically hear the slow spread of that sly smile. Content as the cat who caught the canary.
He knew he was about to win.
“Let’s hear it.”
“If you are putting my name forward for first grade, that means you have someone else in mind to be the second backer and someone in mind for me to shadow on missions and train with, yeah?
“I do.” Gojo said, his tone surprisingly serious.
“Have them put my name forward instead. I want to shadow you.”
Gojo laughed, a short mirthless thing, “What makes you think I have the time?”
“You have enough time to play pretend, I’d think any fiancé would leap at the chance to be with his lovely wife-to-be and keep her safe.”
Gojo hummed.
“Why me?”
This was an oddly familiar conversation.
“Purely selfish reasons. You are the best Limitless user. I am a Limitless user. I want you to teach me.”
“You aren’t on my level.” He said, no malice in his words, just simple facts.
“Then teach me what I can handle.”
There was another pause.
“I’m not gonna go easy on you just because you’re my girl.”
The bare utterance of the endearment sent a shiver up your arms and not an entirely pleasant one either. His girl. God, how would you even begin to explain this fake engagement to your parents? Who knew the depth of your jealousy and bitterness over Gojo since you were— what? Five? Younger?
“Since I am just your ‘pretend’ girl, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“Your funeral, babe.” Gojo said, “But I’m glad we resolved this early! Because we are having dinner. Reservations are made, I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something pretty!”
Your words caught in your throat, stuttering across your tongue and unable to force out before the line cut off and he was gone.
You pressed the edge of your phone to your temple, already feeling a headache coming on. Something pretty? Shit.
-Something pretty? -Too vague. I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear.
A dress! Something for the evening. A Line.
V Neck def
Show off what puberty gave ya (^〃^)
Chiffon with ruffle lace
And grey-blue
-Why?
To match my eyes <3
-Where in the world do you expect me to find that specific dress in the next few hours
Downstairs with hotel staff I had it dropped off <3 <3 <3
-That’s creepy
(つω`。) </3 </3
-Enough with the hearts -How much? I’ll pay you back
It is a gift <3
-How’d you even know my size
A gentleman never reveals his secrets
┐(‘~` )┌
You sighed and set aside your phone to call down to the front desk. Sure enough, a few minutes later someone brought up a large white box, tied with a grey-blue ribbon. You set the package on the small counter in your room’s kitchen and opened the lid, brushing aside soft tissue paper.
The dress was ridiculously soft, made of fine, nearly translucent layers of chiffon. It was a lovely color, the sight making you suddenly think of the feeling in the air before a thunderstorm, the smell of rain. The ribbon matched.
You looked for a price tag and found none, but folded away at the bottom of the box was a hand written receipt. You paled at the figure displayed on it.
-Gojo, I can’t possibly accept this.
Don’t be stupid. No one would believe I was serious about a woman unless I was positively spoiling her rotten. s’not like it broke the bank!
-Forget the first-grade rec
-Pay my bills
Too late! Negotiations are closed :)
-So what the hell am I doing at this dinner?
Eating Duh and being seen with yours truly easy peasy right?
You sipped your coffee, keeping the mug well away from the dress. It was certainly nicer than anything you had ever owned in— well. Ever. It was hard to argue that there were clearly going to be some additional perks to this arrangement you hadn’t previously thought of.
Plus we gotta go over some ground rules
-Thought you said negotiations were closed
-This mean we can revisit my bills?
g2g
Students need me!
Ttyl babe
The ease in which that man showered you so soon with endearments was nauseating. Had he ever even had a girlfriend before? Or just those usual moon-eyed women who fawned and petted him?
And now everyone was gonna think you were one of those girls. You drank your coffee faster, relishing in the way it burned down your throat and overpowered the bad taste in your mouth.
“First-grade… first-grade. Remember the first-grade.”
And training. You’d squeeze every possible benefit from this arrangement out that you could. Sorcerers worked in teams, but at the end of the day, it was every man and woman for themselves.
Let them think what they want when you were seen tonight. You would come out on top.
***
The day passed quickly and you found yourself standing in front of the hotel mirror, twisting back and forth to get a feel for the movement of the dress— and half practicing staying upright in the heels that had arrived not even a moment later.
They were high enough to be appealing, but low enough to keep you from falling over on your face. Gojo had texted an explanation that he figured you were out of practice in wearing anything other than sneakers and combat boots and to consider them training wheels.
You’d wanted, once again, to punch him in the face.
The kind of girl he liked was a stilettos kinda girl, you guessed, huffing to yourself as you sat down and twirled one of your ankles, stretching the muscle. Even the low heels were not entirely comfortable, but you’d manage.
Checking your makeup one last time, you picked up your own worn purse and slung it over your shoulder. Women who wore these kind of dresses and came in on the arm’s of other men and women like Gojo never had anything more than the smallest clutch— but you weren’t those women.
You made your way down to the lobby and were surprised to find a chauffeur waiting outside with a very very sleek European car of some kind. You weren’t great about those kinds of things, only noting the seats were made with soft black leather and there was even a divider built in like in a limo to give the passengers privacy.
The chauffeur ushered you into the empty car and you sat back with a sigh as silently he delivered you to the next destination. You had, in some small place, hoped Gojo would already be present.
Why he felt the need for such spectacle was beyond you, but maybe this was what was expected of a clan family son when he courted a young woman. It felt— weird. Nice, but weird. The drive was not overly long, the car coming to stop.
You knew this restaurant. Some fancy French-Japanese fusion place that charged a hundred dollars for a single plate with a broiled pear covered in wasabi or some weird shit. Already you felt your stomach churning with anxiety and encroaching regret.
This was gonna suck.
This was gonna suck so bad.
The chauffeur opened the door and you barely managed not to wobble on the pavement. Feeling stilted and exposed as other guests and couples regarded you with open curiosity and veiled judgment.
Clearly they were used to seeing the same people come and go from this restaurant and you were not one of them.
You clutched your bag tighter to your arm, hand reaching inside instinctively to find your phone and text Gojo you were out. This was over. Find someone else— when your surname was shouted from the door.
All eyes turned as if in sync to Gojo, wearing simple trousers and a white shirt tucked in. He didn’t even have a tie or a jacket, his dark glasses obscuring his eyes even as he looked right at you.
A few people tsked their disapproval, but they may as well have been ghosts for all the attention Gojo paid them. When you didn’t immediately make your way over to him, Gojo shoved his hands into his pockets and strode over to meet you.
He grinned, the lowering of his chin and the slow rise back up an obvious indicator he was sizing you up and didn’t care if you knew.
He whistled.
“Ow, ow!”
“Shut it— you know this dress could cover my rent for half a year?! And these shoes! I could buy a used car with this ensemble.”
“You even drive?”
“Not the point.”
He laughed again, loud and careless.
“Figured since you were dawdling you might need an arm to lean on.” Gojo said, offering your his elbow without removing his hands from his pockets, “Or perhaps…”
He feigned a gasp, “Are you feeling shy?”
“I’m leaving.” you deadpanned, managing half a turn before his hand was on your waist, turning you back. He took your hand, the feeling of his palm on your side still burned into your skin as he hooked your arm in his own.
You allowed it, leaning on him only a little. He looked pleased, smugly so, as he led you inside and to a table that was already set for two.
There was a wine glass sitting by your own plate. The one by Gojo’s was turned upside down and set to the side… a can of soda sitting, bright and out of place, in its spot.
“… where did you even get that.”
“Vending machine.” Gojo said simply and even kicked your chair out a little for you to take a seat. How flattering.
“Wine is for you, if you want it. Figured it might help take the edge off.”
You rolled your eyes, not bothering to wait for the server to return and simply tipping the bottle of red into your own glass.
“What about you?”
“I don’t drink.” He said, cracking the tab on his soda with a loud pop. Several eyes filtered your way, whispers behind hands and napkins as Gojo all but drained the can in one gulp.
“So— ground rules?” you said, unfolding a cloth napkin and settling it in a half folded triangle across your lap the way you saw other women doing.
“Straight in, huh? Alright. Terms.” Gojo lifted one finger, “As already discussed, you and I will be ‘courting’— dating. Whatever the fuck. I’ll take care of arranging the dates, you show up, act sufficiently smitten and in about a year give or take, we break up.”
Gojo lifted a second finger, “Two. In exchange, I have two first grade sorcerers who will back your promotion. And, as requested—“ Gojo’s voice dropped a fraction, almost grumpily, “—you’ll come with me on my missions for your first semi-grade probation.”
“Now ground rules. At any point either of us wants out, it’s done. No questions asked. But don’t think that means you get to ditch and just keep that first grade appointment. I’ll make sure you end up right back at a grade two.”
You sipped your wine, giving your mouth something to do than form some very choice words at that moment. Gojo noticed, his smile almost a snarl, but the expression quickly vanished. You had a funny feeling trying to hoodwink or swindle him would end very poorly for anyone.
“And when you develop feelings for me—“
“If.” You amended quickly, but Gojo ignored you.
“—when you develop feelings for me. You have to tell me and again, the engagement is over. You can keep your rank. No harm no foul. I can hardly blame you for falling for me.” Gojo said with a wistful sigh. You were grateful for the arrival of the first course, forcing you both to fall silent for a moment until they departed.
You had no idea what was on the plate. Some kind of salad? It was hardly a mouthful. Gojo didn’t even touch his silverware and feeling less than impressed with the cuisine, you didn’t either.
You drank your wine.
“Barring sickness or injury you are required to appear for every date I set. Including the ones where you have to meet other members of the main family.”
You frowned, but didn’t object.
“Wait— what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Is the engagement off when you develop feelings for me?” You said lightly, trying to play off your smile as wistful.
Gojo scoffed, his reaction almost enough to hurt your feelings… just a little bit.
“Non-issue. I don’t do feelings.”
“God, you sound like a fuck boy.” The words came out before you could stop yourself, the last syllable off your tongue right at the moment the server had returned to reclaim your plates. An eyebrow was raised and you hid your face down with a flustered cough.
By the time you looked back up, you got the joy of seeing Gojo staring at you from over his glasses, a broad and deeply amused grin on his face.
“Not non-issue. If I get the feelings rule you get the feelings rule. End discussion.”
Gojo shrugged, again not touching the newest course which was, to your extreme annoyance, some kind of grilled pear.
“You should slow down.” He warned in a sing song voice as you poured another glass.
“I’m not a baby— okay. So we got terms, we got ground rules. Anything else?”
“You can’t refuse my gifts.”
Your eyes narrowed sharply and he simply smiled and hummed with a shrug.
“It’s for appearances! Oh. Speaking of appearances—“ Gojo sat up, fishing something from his back pocket and sitting it on the table. You stared at the simple black box, fearing a vein might burst in your forehead at any moment.
“What is that.” You stated more than asked.
“Open it.” Gojo said, his voice light and encouraging as he nudged the box closer, “Come on, open it. Open it. You know you wanna, sweetie, light of my life, fire of my lo—“
You snatched the box up if only to stop him from finishing that sentence.
You swallowed hard, the sounds of the room fading out as you flipped open the box and found, sitting upon a small satin pillow— a… key?
You lifted it from the box, noting it even had a little custom keychain made to look like a white cat with a tiny blindfold.
“It’s to my apartment!” Gojo announced with a giddy laugh, clasping his hands together in a way that was entirely un-adult like.
“… I have my own place. Thank you.”
“In Kyoto. This is here, in Tokyo. Where you will need to stay for this all to work, remember?”
“Where will you stay?” You asked dryly, vaguely hoping his answer would be something other than what it was no doubt going to be.
“Very funny. You’ll have your own room—if you want it.”
“Why—“ your voice nearly broke and you had to take a moment to clear it, “Why uh— why wouldn’t I be wanting my own room?”
“Feelings are off limits, naturally. But if you want to take me up again on that offer from back in the day…”
The surge of cursed energy that rippled off of you was so strong Gojo nearly toppled backwards, his laugh gaining a somewhat nervous lift to it if only for just a moment.
“I’ll have my own room. My own locked room.” You bit out, feeling your face flushing hot and hating every second Gojo seemed to be enjoying your utter mortification, “Unless that is a problem.”
“Nope. Not at all. Probably for the best ultimately, I’ve been told I have a bad habit of dickmatizing folks.”
“… I’m sorry, you what.”
“Dickmatizing! Ya know. Like hypnotizing but with—“
“I got it!” You groaned, pressing your face into your hand. When did it get so damn hot in here? You snatched up your wine glass and finished off the contents, feeling even hotter.
“Is that all?”
“Unless anything comes to your mind, then yep.” Gojo finished, ignoring yet another course. You were almost tempted. The dish was some kind of meat, but the sauce drenched over it smelt sharply of something bitter and sour at the same time. You stomach recoiled at the thought and yet rumbled in protest to its growing hunger.
“So what do you think?”
“You’re disgusting?” you said flatly.
“I meant about the deal.”
You glowered openly at him. It was going to take a lot of practice to turn that deprecating expression you felt naturally pull unto your face at his sight into something loving and tender… but for first-grade ranking? For lessons on your Limitless? Fuck. Fuck you’d do it.
You poured the remainder of the bottle into your glass and polished it off in one shot.
“I accept.”
Gojo clapped his hands together, “Excellent! Now let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Huh?” You barely managed to get the questioning sound out before Gojo was up and out of his chair. You scrambled up, head rushing with the wine and the weirdness of this entire conversation. By the time you managed to catch up with him, he snaked out his arm and wrapped it around your waist, pulling you flush and warm against his side.
You about threw him across the room, but your attempts at a grapple were thwarted by the sudden thrumming of the familiar Neutral Limitless ability, stalling your moments to such a small speed you felt suddenly frozen.
The impulse to toss him passed and instead you let him escort you outside where the car was still waiting.
“Take us to the place, ya know the one.” Gojo said to the driver and in a surprising show of gallantry, actually held the door open for you to get in first.
“And open the back window. If she throws up, I’d rather it be on the pavement.”
You elbowed him in the chest— accidentally of course.
***
The car drive was a bit longer, taking you away from the glitz and glamor of this side of Tokyo and to what looked arguably as one of the most hole-in-the-wall noodle joints you had ever seen. The street kitchen was small, the counter open outside with a few bar stools. The smells of teriyaki and spices and cooking oils were heavy in the air and made your mouth water.
Gojo perched on one of the stools and you came to sit alongside him, watching as he ripped open a set of chopsticks and rubbed the splinters off.
He ordered quickly—yakisoba and yakitori. Along with several packages of mochi they kept behind the counter in the same kinda plastic bags you’d find at a convenience store.
Gojo had been right— you should have slowed down. The world had a light haze to it… a slight tilting. His hand on your back felt massive and overly warm as he guided you back to sitting straight.
“Eat, ya lush.” He ordered, piling noodles and chicken unto a smaller empty plate for you from his own, “C’mon.”
Gojo popped one of the mochi bags and dumped the sticky sweet confection right on top of your yakisoba. You grimaced, picking the sweet off and trying to wipe some of the sauce from it before you took a generous bite.
The food was greasy and delicious and abundant and cheap and your mouth was in heaven. Even having not used your Limitless since yesterday, every taste still felt heightened. Maybe it was the way your cursed powers tried to compensate from the wine, but everything somehow was more delicious.
You attempted to snag another piece of yakitori from Gojo’s plate, only to have your chopsticks blocked with a clack.
“Ah ah ah— hands off.”
“What’s yours is mine, right?” You chided, only to be dodged again in a movement faster than your eyes could perceive. Did he just use his Limitless to counter you? Feeling emboldened, you activated your own, the faint pulse of the energy so close together giving you the sort of deflecting feeling one experiences when holding two sides of the same magnet near together.
Repelling, shifting. Trying to shove the energy into a way that the two forces would collide rather than deflect.
You were concentrating fully. The minuscule movements invisible to even your eyes, but the feeling was there. A sort of blindsight where you didn’t need the Six Eyes to tell you what was happening— but it would have definitely helped. You flicked a glance up and lost your control, your chopsticks shooting away and nearly cracking one in two.
Gojo chuckled. It was the expression on his face that had distracted you. His eyelids were half dropped, his smile soft as he readied himself to deflect you again. Your energy was no match for his… but it matched. It was made of the same stuff. Controlled the same way. He could see, with the sharp clarity of his Six Eyes, every tiny precise movement you made with your cursed energy. A mirror of his own abilities in miniature.
He was playing with you. And all the sudden you felt as if a small knot in your chest had shaken free, the coil coming undone.
Was there anyone else on this Earth you could do such a thing with?
Feeling strange and suddenly shy, you drew your energy back in and refocused on eating from your own plate, grumbling at your loss.
A second later, Gojo’s chopsticks moved over your plate, dropping another helping of noodles in.
A small concession. A victory in it's own right, even if it had not won the yakitori.
“Sober up, will ya? But don’t eat too fast. I’m not cleaning up vomit, no way, no how.”
“You’re always so vulgar.” you murmured, speaking around a mouthful of noodles and mochi. Gojo turned and stuck his tongue out at you. A confirmation or a reprisal, you couldn’t be sure.
But regardless, it did something to you he had never managed to do before.
It made you laugh.
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dionysia-ta-astika · 3 years
Text
The Lady of the Labyrinth
For Dionysus.
Everything was lost. My brother was dead. My love was gone.
I was also stranded on a deserted island. I stared out at the vast, empty expanse of the sea. The sunlight on the waves winked at me with a thousand eyes, as though diamonds had been scattered across the surface of the water. Anyone would find this beach tranquil, I suppose, if they were here under different circumstances than mine.
My brother’s name was Asterion.
Most people didn’t know his name, or even that he had one. To most people, he was the Minotaur, a horrible monster with the body of a man and the head of a bull that eats people. Asterion was a monster, and he did eat people.
Beneath my father’s shining palace, he prowled the twists and turns of the Labyrinth that my father’s genius architect built. The Labyrinth was mine, once. Daedalus made it for me as a dancing path, when I was a little girl. But now it is a dark, disorienting maze of seemingly endless passageways, and I was still the only person who knew how to navigate it. When I could have time alone, I would go to the Labyrinth. I felt my way through its pitch-black corridors, memorizing the nicks and cracks in the rough stone, trying to calm my thoughts. I spoke to Asterion through the walls: “You have never seen the sun,” I said to him. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like in the outside world? Or do you like it down here?” I received no answer from the surrounding darkness. If I did hear something — a snort, or hooves on stone, I would have to run as fast as I could away from the sound. Even I couldn’t go too near Asterion — I wouldn’t want to run the risk that he might attack me.
 “Why do you go down there?” My sister, Phaedra, asked me. “What could possibly be appealing about that dark, dismal place?”
“I like it down there,” I said, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as I could. “It is peaceful. And I don’t mind the dark.”
She looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted bull’s horns myself. “You know you risk your life every time you enter the Labyrinth, right?”
“He’s our brother,” I said. I don’t know what I intended to explain by saying that. I felt like I had a responsibility to him that extended beyond simply being his sister. I tried to see a man in him, although he sniffed and bellowed and charged like a bull. He could gore me to death like a bull, but I did not fear him. “I can’t say I love him, but I feel something.”
“You shouldn’t feel any sympathy for him. He’s a freak of nature. The gods cursed us with him for our father’s arrogance. He is a shame upon our kingdom.”
She was right, of course. The gods gifted us a beautiful white bull that we were meant to sacrifice to Poseidon, but my father decided to keep it instead. And Poseidon cursed us… Asterion is the unholy offspring of my mother and the bull. And it gets worse. Every seven years, seven young men and seven young women from the city of Athens were brought to the Labyrinth to be fed to my brother. This was because my other brother, whom I was too young to remember, died while in Athens. Athens pays for this slight with the lives of other young people.
I suppose it’s no different than war, or at least, that’s what my father says. All cities send their youths to die for the polis. How was this any different? I could hardly bear the prisoners’ wails of desperation or their pleas for me to help them. When I heard they were coming, I begged my father to set them free, asserting that it was wrong to sacrifice humans to anything. If the gods had cast Tantalus into Tartarus for feeding them his son, then why should we knowingly feed humans to a monster? He laughed at me and asked why I had no pride in my family.  
I hated the thought of the fourteen young people being fed to him, but I also couldn’t imagine killing my own brother, even if he was a monster.
I was too young to remember the last time the prisoners came to the Labyrinth. They had come, and my brother had gorged himself on their flesh, and I was none the wiser. This time, I knew, and the horror of it struck me silent as the tributes were paraded through the city like animal sacrifices to the gods, so that we could all see those who were doomed to die. I could hardly bear to look at them. Some of those girls were barely older than me. It felt wrong to sit by and watch as they were brought to the Labyrinth. But what could I do to save their lives? Supplicating my father would not work, and the only other option was helping them to escape, somehow. How could I do that?
In spite of myself, I caught sight of one of the young men. He was handsome, and he had a defiant, blazing look in his eye. He looked straight at my father on his throne. “I am Theseus of Athens!” he declared. “I have come to slay your monstrous son!”
My father had laughed at him, but he consumed my thoughts. That may be because he was absolutely gorgeous, but it was also because if he succeeded at killing Asterion, he would solve all my problems. I wouldn’t have to take my own brother’s life, but he would devour no more innocent lives. And, if this youth survived, he might take me away with him. I knew the Labyrinth better than anyone. Even if he did survive, he could never make it in and out without my help.
Forgive me, Asterion.
The prisoners were held in two dank cells near the entrance to the Labyrinth.  The women were kept in one, and the men were kept in the other. Many of the prisoners were crying — not just the women, but the men, too. In my familiarity with the Labyrinth and its inhabitant, I had forgotten just how terrifying both would be to anyone else. The Labyrinth’s darkness and maddening complexity would intimidate anyone, and the prospect of being eaten by a monster within its depths was horrific.
Only Theseus seemed calm. His boldness in front of my father hadn’t been an act. His jaw was set, and he still had raw determination in his steely eyes. He was really going to do it, wasn’t he? He actually meant to kill Asterion. He shone like gold in the gloom of the dungeon — he could have been Apollo. If our circumstances were different, I might have wanted to stroke his chest. “Who are you?” he demanded when I approached the cell, as though I were the one behind bars, and had requested an audience with him.
“I am Ariadne,” I said, “daughter of Minos, princess of Crete.”
“I am Theseus, son of Aegeus, prince of Athens,” he returned.
Prince of Athens. That explained his noble bearing and proud mien, not to mention his handsome features… and yet… “There is no way the King of Athens would have sent his own son to be fed to the Minotaur,” I said. “Why are you really here?”
“I said, didn’t I? I’m here to slay the Minotaur. I volunteered as tribute.” He smirked. “I promised my father that I would return alive. No more of our people will be sacrificed to the monster!”
“You speak with a lot of confidence for someone who is currently in a prison cell,” I said. “What are you going to do, Theseus? Do you have a plan?”
“Of course I have a plan!” he said, a little defensively. “I am going to break out of this cell. And then I will conquer the Labyrinth—”
“How? You’ll be dead of starvation before you even reach the Minotaur, assuming he doesn’t find you first.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you taunting me?”
I leaned forward, looking directly into his eyes. “No. I was actually going to offer to help you. I know the Labyrinth. I go into it all the time.”
“No, you don’t. You’re trying to get me to sleep with you. Or trying to deceive me on behalf of Minos.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t find anything to say in response to that. For a moment I just stared at him. Was he always this self-assured, even in the worst of circumstances? If he wanted to sleep with me, I certainly wouldn’t complain, but why would he assume that I would deceive him? Well, perhaps it was his right to be suspicious, in a strange land where he was kept as a prisoner. “I… no,” I finally replied. “I’m being serious. I’m here to help you.”
“Why, then?”
“I think it is very noble of you to want to save the other Athenians, and I agree that no more innocent lives should be lost.”
He smiled slightly, but still looked suspicious. “You have no loyalty to your father?”
“My father is cruel and selfish. Why else do you think my mother gave birth to a monster, anyway?”
“The monster is your brother? What was his father, a bull?”
“Yes.”
That seemed to have stunned him into silence. I felt some satisfaction at that. “Listen to me. Without my help, you will not get through the Labyrinth. If you want to kill the Minotaur, you need me.”
“What’s the catch?” he asked. “You’re going to want something in return, aren’t you? What?”
“Take me off this accursed rock,” I said. “I am sick of Crete, I’m sick of my father, and I don’t want to have to put up with whatever punishment he might give me for helping you.”
“Well, you are a princess, and I suppose you would make a fine bride for me.”
My heart leapt at those words, and I felt myself blushing. Perhaps I should have known better. “Really? You would marry me?”
“If you help me to slay the Minotaur, then yes, I will marry you.”
“Deal.”
Theseus remained in my thoughts from that point onward. When I closed my eyes, I saw his face, and I imagined the feel of his skin. I’d never seen a man like him before, and oh, if I married him… would I be happy? Happier than I was here, at least? He seemed like the kind of man that Phaedra and I dreamed we would marry as young girls — strong, brave, handsome, and willing to put himself on the line for the sake of his people. All such admirable qualities.
I returned to Theseus when the prisoners were locked into the Labyrinth’s abyssal maw. “Everyone else, stay back!” he ordered, as though he were directing troops. “I will go into the Labyrinth and kill the Minotaur. Stay here, and you will be safe.” He suddenly turned to me. “What have you brought to help me?”
I held out a humble ball of yarn. “This.”
He took it from my hand and raised an eyebrow at it, looking as though he might throw it into the dark. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Daedalus gave it to me when I first started exploring the Labyrinth.”
“Daedalus? I’ve heard of Daedalus. He is supposed to be the most brilliant architect in the world, right?”
“He built this Labyrinth, and he gave me the yarn. All you have to do is tie the end here and carry it through the maze. Then you can follow it back out.”
Theseus looked impressed. “He must be a genius to have thought of something like that!”
He may have been a genius, but I was still intelligent enough to figure it out on my own. All Daedalus had done was hand me the ball of yarn, and I immediately understood what I was meant to do with it. But I didn’t bother correcting Theseus. “Do you have a weapon?”
“No,” said Theseus. “I’m not worried. I’ll kill the beast with my bare hands.”
I blinked at him, dumbfounded. I suppose if anyone could do it, he could; he was almost as musclebound as the bull-man. But still. Only an extremely impressive hero with divine lineage could hope to kill a monster bare-handed, that or a total idiot. “You are going to die.”
“Nonsense!” He smiled. “Haven’t died yet! And I have faced many deadly trials before.”
I smiled back. “I’m sure you have, but, well, it’s your funeral.”
“Do you want this monster dead, or not?” he demanded.
“Woah, I wasn’t being serious, I…” To be asked that question point-blank was unsettling. It threw my whole dilemma into focus. But seeing the terrified faces of the other tributes huddled naked in the entrance to the Labyrinth gave me my answer. “Yes.”
“I shall go then.” He tied the yarn to the gate and strode with it into the dark. I admired his confidence, even if the odds were against him. He turned the first corner, and was gone. I stared into the darkness for a moment.
One of the girls gripped the hem of my dress. “Please,” she whispered. “Please help us, my lady. We did nothing to be here. If he dies, will you help us escape?”
 I didn’t look at her. I kept staring into the Labyrinth’s depths. “I will do what I can,” I said slowly. Then I followed Theseus. I heard her gasp behind me, as if her last hope had just walked away.
I overtook Theseus quickly. He was moving slowly, blindly hitting walls and getting disoriented by the serpentine turns. He jumped when he heard me behind him, turned on his heel and braced for attack, staring me down with the intensity of a bull about to charge. Then he softened. “Oh. It’s you. What are you doing here? I don’t need your help.”
“I know this place better than you do,” I said matter-of-factly.
He huffed in response. “Get back to the entrance. The Minotaur could arrive at any moment.”
I walked ahead of him. “I know. Every time I explore the Labyrinth, I risk death.”
“Why would you explore this place?” he asked, following me. “What could it possibly offer a girl like you?”
“Peace. Solitude. Time away from my father.”
“This Labyrinth is maddening!” His growing frustration echoed off the walls. “How are you not mad? Perhaps you are mad, with the things you say.”
“I’ve never considered that I might be mad.”
“Only if you were mad would you willingly choose to be in this dark prison.”
“You willingly chose to be here.”
He had no response. We walked in silence for a while, dragging the thread behind us. It was almost impossible to see the thread in the dark. I could tell that Theseus was starting to get agitated. The twining paths of the Labyrinth must be making him feel like we were making no progress. The grim silence and high stone walls made us feel completely cut off from the outside world, like there was no world at all beyond the Labyrinth. “Do you think this is what Hades is like?” he asked. “A deep cavern, under the earth, where there is nothing to do but walk endlessly?”
I couldn’t tell whether that was a sincere philosophical question, or whether he was asking indignantly. “I don’t know. The Fields of Asphodel are supposed to be open, and full of the white flowers… Not quite like this.”
“It makes no difference to me anyway. I will assuredly go to Elysium when I die, and it is the most agreeable part of Hades.”
If Hades is exactly like this, I thought, then perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. There are worse things than this.
Eventually, we passed the point where I usually turned back. I had never gotten this close to the center before. And then we heard it — the unmistakable sound of hooves. Cold terror gripped me. I did not expect to feel this afraid, especially not of my own brother, but the reality of the situation sank in. We were  in a Labyrinth with a flesh-eating monster, and the exit was too far away for any chance of escape.  Why did I follow him? Why did I think that was a good idea?
“Our quarry is upon us! You should leave,” said Theseus sternly. “The monster eats the maidens first, so I hear.”
The instinct to run left me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Suit yourself, but you will not be able to fight against the Minotaur.”
“You will protect me, will you?” Being with him felt safe, like he was a bodyguard.
“I will.” As soon as he said that, my fear was banished, and my confidence restored.
A few more turns, and we reached the center of the Labyrinth, a place I figured I’d never enter. In the gloom, I couldn’t actually see much, but I was able to see the hulking shape of my brother with his huge bull’s head and wicked-looking horns.
“There is the beast!” A light suddenly blazed to life beside me, and I cringed away from its brightness. It was a torch.
“Did you have that the whole time?”
“I was saving it!” He handed me the torch and the end of the yarn, and I took them, nonplussed. I saw the floor of the Labyrinth’s center, full of human bones. “Wait there, I will make swift work of this!” Theseus took a fighting stance, muscles tensed.
Asterion looked at me. I felt blind panic grip me, but he did not attack me. Perhaps he recognized me. He must have been familiar with my presence and voice by now, enough to know I wasn’t a threat. I stared into his black bull eyes. They were soft, not fiery and enraged. This was my brother. “Asterion… I’m so sorry, Asterion.”
“What are you doing? Get back!”
Theseus’ yell attracted Asterion’s attention. He roared and rushed forward with his powerful legs, horns lowered and ready to gore him to death. Theseus grabbed Asterion’s horns and hurled himself up onto the Minotaur’s back, holding him in a chokehold with both arms. “I shall send you to the pit of Tartarus, fiend!”  Asterion thrashed and bucked and slammed Theseus against the wall, but soon enough, it was over. Theseus had strangled the Minotaur. Asterion lay dead.
Theseus picked himself up, looking exhausted but triumphant. “Victory! No Athenians will die today, or ever! This monster will never claim another human life!” He grinned at me. “See, I told you I could do it with my bare hands!”
I stared at the mass of Asterion’s body. “I killed my brother…”
“Nonsense!” Theseus took the torch back from me. The bones crunched under his feet as he walked. “It is hardly your fault that you are the sister of a beast. We have done a good and heroic thing today. Look, look at the bones! Why are you crying, Ariadne?”
I suddenly looked at him instead of the Minotaur’s corpse. I don’t think he’d said my name before. Even in the dim torchlight, he still looked bright, with clear eyes and golden hair and bronze skin slick with sweat. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Ariadne.” He smiled at me. “Thank you. Together we have saved many lives.”
He kissed me, and the torch went out.
The following events were a blur. After we had successfully followed the thread out of the Labyrinth, Theseus triumphantly announced to my father that the Minotaur was dead, and demanded me and my sister as prizes. My father was furious — of course he was. He had essentially just lost all of his children, and all because one had died in Athens before I was old enough to remember. I, however, was elated, and so was Phaedra. Phaedra was as eager to leave Crete as I was, and she seemed just as taken with Theseus’ handsomeness. She didn’t seem distressed that Asterion was dead, and why would she? The grateful Athenians went back to their ship, many of them sobbing with relief. I didn’t look at my father as I followed Theseus to the ship. I never wanted to look at him again. We passed by Talos, and I left Knossos and the Labyrinth behind me.
Crete faded into the horizon, and before me was sunshine and new possibilities. Theseus glowed with triumph and pride, smiling at me and kissing me when he announced to the other Athenians that he would marry me, and that I would become their queen. They fell to their knees and showered me and Theseus with gratitude for having saved their lives. I felt almost as if I were a goddess. Wine flowed freely in celebration, and I took more joy in it than I had in a long time.
It did not last long. Soon after the first few hours I was, if possible, even more miserable on Theseus’ ship than I had been in Knossos. I quickly became tired of his boasts about how he had strangled the beast, without crediting me at all, or so much as mentioning the ball of yarn, even though the other Athenians had seen me give it to him and seen me follow him into the Labyrinth. Every time he told the story, it got further from the truth, and emphasized his own heroism over mine. Is this how it would be when I was queen? No matter what I did, I’d be shunted to the side? Then, Theseus seemed to be doting on Phaedra. She usually attracted more attention. She was prettier than me. She had blond hair that shined in the sunlight and the bright eyes of our mother Pasiphae, the daughter of Helios. My hair and eyes were dark, like the Labyrinth.
I left the celebration, finding a quiet spot on deck. I sat by the edge of the ship, staring out into the open waves and trying not to think about Asterion, but the image of him lying dead in the torchlight haunted me. “Are you okay, Ariadne?” Phaedra asked me. “What is wrong? We are finally out of there, all thanks to you! No more Minotaur, no more tributes having to die, no more Father… We will have a new life in Athens.” I stayed silent. “You look despondent. Something’s wrong.”
I looked up into her eyes. “It’s like you said, Phaedra. Asterion is dead.”
“Do you… mourn him?”
“He was our brother, and I killed him!”
“Theseus killed him! You did nothing!” I knew that she meant to reassure me, but it touched a raw nerve.
“He would not have if I hadn’t led him straight to the center of the Labyrinth!”
“Ariadne…” Phaedra put her hand on my shoulder. “You… you’re… you’ll be okay. You are just a little bit disoriented.” She left me alone.
I looked at the Athenians, who laughed and danced and celebrated their lives. I didn’t feel like dancing. I already missed the Labyrinth. My guilt drew my thoughts back to Knossos. I wanted to hide in the Labyrinth forever, like Asterion had, or else throw myself into the sea for my guilt. The brightness of the waves was glaring compared to the soothing darkness of the Labyrinth.
Theseus approached me from behind. He had been ignoring me until now, maybe because I was so sorrowful. I could feel that he was angry at me, and my skin crawled, but I didn’t turn. “What cause do you have to weep, Ariadne? You should be happy!” he said.
“I am sorry, Theseus. Part of me still mourns for my brother.”
“What is the matter with you? All you have done is sit and stare at the water! If you loved that Labyrinth so much, perhaps you should have stayed there! Now please, put this sorrow behind you. You have no cause for it.” He sighed, softening. “When we arrive in Athens, we shall marry, and there will be much rejoicing.”
“Leave me alone.” The bitterness in my voice rang louder than I’d intended.
He scowled at me.“You are joyless, passionless, and thankless,” he spat, and stalked off. The word useless went unsaid; I could tell he was reconsidering making me his wife.
“Theseus, wait!” I yelled, suddenly sounding desperate.
I stood up, and he turned back to look at me, and I felt as if I were naked under his gaze and that of the others on the ship, which had all quieted and turned in my direction. His eyes were cold, and his nostrils flared just as Asterion’s had. “What, Ariadne? You have shown me neither gratitude nor pleasure, you have not acted like a princess. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Shamed, I said nothing. I sat back down. Then, as he was about to turn away again, I suddenly found my voice. “Why are you being cruel?”
“I am not being cruel. You are being difficult.”
By the time we reached Naxos, I was feeling heartbroken as well as grief-stricken. Theseus was giving me the silent treatment. I think he expected me to come running to him begging for forgiveness. We stopped on the island to rest, primarily because Theseus had dreamt that he would stop here during his homecoming.
 I took off my sandals and walked along the edge of the surf to clear my thoughts. The beach was bright and wide and open, the exact opposite of the Labyrinth. Even in the sand, I felt his heavy footsteps approaching behind me. “Ariadne, we need to talk.”
I continued to face away from him. “What?”
“Ariadne, I find your attitude disagreeable.” 
I turned on my heel to face him, planting myself in the sand. “I’ve found your attitude disagreeable! All you have done since we left Crete is boast about your heroics, and you’ve barely given me any credit—”
“Credit! You want credit for having slain it, when all you have done is cry over the hideous thing?”
The disdain in his voice stung me like arrows. “You don’t care at all for me or my feelings, do you?”
“If you were to become my queen, I would expect better behavior from you.” He sounded like he was lecturing a child.
“Well… I don’t want to be your queen! You are almost as bad as my father!”
“Good. I have already decided to take your sister Phaedra as my bride instead.” I didn’t reply. “You may still return with us to Athens, but we will have to make other arrangements for you.”
Forget Athens. I didn’t want Theseus to do anything for me. “Oh, forgive me for having been such a disappointment to you! Go ahead, go back to Athens and marry my sister! By Zeus! I’ve had enough of you!”
And I ran. I turned away from Theseus and ran down the beach until my legs gave out, falling in the sand to sulk and wonder where it all went wrong. I regretted having ever met Theseus, or helped him to kill my brother. If I could undo it all, I would. No. Then innocent people would have died. Oh, gods, why am I so wretched?
And then, as I was just beginning to calm down, I saw that the ship was sailing away over the waves. I was stranded on the island. Despair and panic crashed down upon me. Oh gods, gods, why? Had I somehow been forgotten about, or left behind on purpose? Had Theseus doomed me to die? “CURSE you, Theseus!” I screamed at the distant ship. I watched it go until it disappeared over the horizon. I could do nothing but hopelessly stare at the wine-dark sea as the sun set.
“Excuse me, why are you crying?”
I had been sitting with my head in my arms, weeping despondently, and I was startled by the sudden voice, soft though it was. I was certain the island was deserted, but now, a young man stood before me. He was silhouetted against the sky, the sun shining behind his head like a halo. Where had he come from? I hadn’t heard him come. It was though he’d simply stepped out of the sea.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and my voice sounded cracked from crying. “I thought I was alone.”
“May I sit with you?” the man asked. “You look like you could use a drink, something to soothe you, hm?”
“Yes… yes, thank you.”
He sat down in the sand next to me, languidly stretching his legs out in front of him like he was sitting on the plushest couch. With the sunlight on him, I could see him properly — he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my life. He easily put Theseus to shame. His eyes were leafy green, warm and kind. He was lithe, and his skin looked as pale and smooth as a girl’s, and his lips looked so soft. I couldn’t place the color of his hair — it seemed to be dark brown, but it could have been as dark as the Styx, and when the sun caught it, it looked honey-gold. It fell over his shoulders in loose curls. He wore nothing but a fine purple cloak draped over one shoulder, a golden leopard skin around his waist, and a wreath of ivy on his head. His cheeks were flushed, and he had a bright, easy smile. He was so lovely, so breathtaking, it almost hurt to look at him. With delicate hands, he offered me a kylix brimming with wine. “Please, tell me what has made you so upset.”
I blinked at the kylix, and the leopard skin, and the ivy in his hair. “Are you… a Bacchant?” I’d heard of them. They worshipped a mad and savage god with drunken orgies in the woods, and were said to be able to rip animals or even people limb-from-limb in their frenzy. Not unlike Asterion, I suppose.
He flashed a devious smile. “Maaaaybe.”
I took the kylix and drank deeply. The wine was sweet, and somehow, I felt immediately calmer. Slowly, amid my lingering sobs, I told the story — about Asterion, and my father, and the tributes, how I’d decided to help Theseus, how we’d found our way through the Labyrinth, how Theseus had killed Asterion, how Theseus had been so heartless, and how he had apparently left me to die on a deserted island. By the time I finished talking, the kylix was empty.
“How do you feel now?” he asked me.
“Better… I think. But I’m still devastated, and… guilty. My brother’s death… it was really my fault, and I don’t know if I did the right thing or not. Do you think it’s wrong for me to grieve for my brother? I mean… he was a monster…”
“No. I don’t think it’s wrong. It is perfectly understandable that you would mourn your brother.”
“If I had let the Athenians die, I would have mourned for them, too.” I sighed.
“Yes. There must be blood; one sacrifice was traded for another, Asterion, the worthy bull. It is okay to grieve, for as long as you need to, but do not wallow in despair.”
“I tend to do that. I don’t remember the last time I was completely happy. I thought Theseus would make me happy, but… then… I wish I had my Labyrinth back! It was at least soothing down there.”
“It pains me to see people sad,” he said. He handed me the kylix again, and it was once again full of wine. I hadn’t seen him fill it. “Pleasure is a state of mind. The best way to rid yourself of sadness is to focus on things that make you happy. There is always something to take pleasure in! Like the beauty of the sunset, or the sound of the lapping waves. Or wine!”
“Not when you are abandoned to die, with no way off the island,” I said. “How did you get here, anyway? I don’t see a boat.”
“I have my ways,” he said cryptically, with that same mischievous smile. That smile and the teasing sparkle in his eyes were so adorable. His beauty is something to take pleasure in, I suddenly thought, and his company, and kindness…
I took another draught of the wine. “Why are the gods so cruel to me?” I murmured, more to myself than to him.
“The gods are not cruel to you.” He stated it with complete confidence, as though it were an undeniable fact, not as though he were trying to convince me.
“It certainly seems that way,” I replied.
“Life can often seem that way, but then, it gets better, and you will find that the gods favor you,” he said.
“Well… I suppose that must be true, if handsome strangers pop out of nowhere to comfort women.”
He beamed. “Exactly!” He took the kylix back from me, threw his head back, and drained about half of it in one gulp. “You know, I was stranded on a desert island like this one once.”
“Wait, what? You were?”
“Yes! It was a long time ago now, but I was just as pretty back then, and just as fond of wearing purple. Purple is the best color, you know.” He winked. “Anyway, so I was lying asleep on a beach and—” he took another swig of the wine, “a pirate ship rows by…”
“Are you drunk?”
“Always, darling!” That roguish grin of his was really starting to win me over. “Anyway, the pirates saw me sleeping on the beach, saw how pretty I was and saw my fine purple robes, and thought I was a prince. Well. They weren’t wrong… I technically am a prince of Thebes, on my mother’s side.” He laughed like he had just told the most hilarious joke and had another sip of the wine. The amount of wine in the kylix never seemed to get any lower.
“Does that mean… you’re a bastard?” I asked hesitantly.
“Yes, yes it does! I’m such a bastard. I mean… I was born out of wedlock. And my father’s wife, oooh, she hates me.” Another sip of the wine. “Never get on her bad side if you can help it.” He pointed at me as if this was the most important information I could ever learn, and I laughed. “She can’t touch me now, but she drove me mad when I was younger. Literally. Anyway, so these pirates kidnapped me. Thought I’d make a damn cute catamite, and I certainly would, but that’s beside the point. You don’t and kidnap boys no matter how pretty they are. I tried to tell my dad that, but it didn’t go over well.” Another sip of the wine.
“You are slender, but I bet you could take Theseus in a drinking contest.”
“Oh, I could take aaaaaanyone in a drinking contest! Never lost one yet!” His face was glowing, not just with blush from the wine but also with infectious joy. I slowly forgot about my misfortunes as I listened to his story. “So they tried to tie me to the ship’s mast, but found they couldn’t do it. I only tolerate bondage on my own terms. And then…” There was suddenly a mad gleam in his green eyes. “I covered their ship in grapevines, and ivy, and flowers, and the delicious smell of wine. I can’t imagine why such delightful things frightened them so. But I thought I’d scare them more, see, because it was funny. So I turned into a lion! And they flung themselves overboard in fear!” He laughed, and his laugh sounded as musical as flutes on a clear morning, but it had a maddened edge to it. “But I pitied them, y’know?” he continued. “Just as you pity your brother. So I changed them into dolphins. So they wouldn’t drown.”
“You changed… you turned into… did… did your god give you those powers? Or… are you just… really… drunk?” But I knew. I think that intuitively, I knew the whole time.
“Easy,” he said, once again raising the bottomless kylix to his lips with that knowing smile. “I’m really drunk.”
At this, I burst out laughing, and my laugh sounded almost unfamiliar to my own ears. I felt light, carefree, replenished. And then it sank in, that I was speaking to a god. I hastily knelt, and dropped my head before him, although he was still sitting next to me. “Lord Dionysus! Son of Zeus! Lord, lord, thank you for coming to me, for talking to me, for relieving me of my pain, for freeing me from my suffering…”
“You’re welcome, Ariadne.” He lifted my face, so that I was staring up into his eyes, which were now vivid reddish-purple, the color of ripe grapes. A richly purple aura surrounded him, proclaiming his divinity. In his hand was his staff, a fennel stalk topped with a pinecone that dripped with honey, twined with ivy and purple ribbons. And he had horns, bull’s horns just like my brother’s, magnificent and deadly sharp. They curved up above his brow, as much his crown as the wreath of ivy in his hair. The imposing horns created a striking contrast with his delicate features, but they looked right, somehow. Like this was how he was supposed to look.
I didn’t know what to say. My mind had gone suddenly blank. “I’ve never known great Dionysus to have horns,” I blurted.
“Not many get to see them,” he said, his voice suddenly slow and solemn. “Ariadne, will you dance with me?”
Whatever I had expected him to say, it was not that. “Wh—what?”
“Dance with me!” He stood up and twirled off across the beach. His hair floated around his shoulders, the ribbons on his thyrsus arced through the air like the rainbow, and his expression was one of elation. He screamed in ecstasy, and it was an inhuman sound, like the crowing of some unearthly bird. At that, the air filled with cacophonous music — flutes, drums, cymbals, rattles, castanets.
A command echoed inside my head. No, not a command — a compulsion: DANCE! DANCE!
So I danced with the bull-horned god. “Dancing” barely even begins to describe what I was doing. I was filled with an overwhelming, indescribable feeling, like I didn’t fit in my own skin. Like I was about to be lifted out of my own shoulders! I moved like my body was doing everything it could to express this ineffable thing inside me that was so much bigger than me. I spun, I leapt, I ran, I stamped my feet in the sand, I moved wherever the feeling took me. It burned like fire. And Dionysus was all I could perceive. I screamed with both intense rapture and pure, genuine worship: “EUOI! EUOI! EUOI!”
I met his eyes, and there I saw all the raw ferocity of a bull or a great cat, as well as chaos and lust and debauchery and pure mania. All the forces strong enough to tear a person apart! I desperately thirsted for something I could not name. It was more than wine, more than flesh, more than blood. Dionysus took me in his arms, and kissed me on the lips. Passion overtook me.
Maybe I fainted in exhilaration, or maybe I was simply too drunk to remember. All I know was that I was eventually awakened by the sunrise and the sound of lapping waves. And Dionysus… was still there. He hadn’t disappeared into the night, he was still sleeping there in the sand, looking blissful and alluring in his sleep. His tousled curls tumbled over the sand, his soft hand was upturned beside his head, and his lips were parted invitingly. He lay on his purple cloak, and was using the leopard pelt like a blanket, though it was only carelessly draped over his waist.
“Lord… thank you for not leaving me,” I whispered.
His long eyelashes fluttered, and then his eyes opened, once again appearing vine-green. “Mmmm… sleep well?”
“Yes.” I desperately wanted to kiss him, and the seductive look in his eyes tempted me. “May I… touch you?”
“Darling, you may touch me anywhere you like,” he purred. Ravenously, I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressed my chest to his, and our lips met. He still tasted like wine, and I drank him in the way I would wine. We lay there for a moment, entangled in each other’s arms like grape and ivy vines, idly caressing each other’s skin and hair.
“M’lord…” I whispered, “perhaps it might be impertinent to ask, but… what am I going to do now? I can’t go home. I don’t really want to go to Athens. And I still have no way off this island.”
“Why, Ariadne,” he gave me a teasing smile. “If I may be so bold, I hoped you would join me! In fact… I hope you might marry me.”
I was so taken aback by this that I immediately sat up. “You… you’re serious? Marry you?” I knew that gods frequently took mortal lovers, but this was unimaginable. “Actually marry you?”
“Yes, Ariadne. I love you.” He said it with the same sweetness and sincerity that he initially approached me with. Theseus had said no such thing. “You are not destined to become queen of Athens, but perhaps you might be my queen, if you are willing.”
I burst into tears, but they weren’t tears of sadness this time. They were tears of overwhelm, the same kind of overflowing sensation that I’d felt while dancing. “You love me?”
“I am absolutely besotted, my darling! I have had many lovers, but I had not fallen so madly in love since Ampelos, my first love, my darling vine.” A grapevine appeared between his fingers and twined up his arm. “Perhaps something in me is inclined towards mortals over gods, which is understandable, given my parentage. But, that should be no problem. I will bring you to Olympus, and love you for all of time.”
“How… why me?” I sputtered. “What have I done to deserve this?”
“Ariadne, you are letting your human mind interfere, and convince you that you are not worthy to be in my presence. Did you feel unworthy last night, while we were dancing?”
“No… I felt… there was no such thing.”
“Ariadne, do you love me?”
I struggled to find any word that could properly describe how I felt about him. “You are… utterly intoxicating.”
He giggled like a shy maiden. “I get that a lot. And, if you could be worthy of having me as a husband, would you have me?”
Yes. My body and soul ached and burned with wanting. And he made me extraordinarily happy! I’d never dared to believe a god would love me enough to marry me, but that disbelief was only getting in my way.
He looked me dead in the eyes. I nearly flinched away from the intensity of his gaze, and the shimmering madness behind it. “You are more than you realize, Ariadne, guide in the dark, guardian of the gates of initiation. You are intelligent and witty and brave, and you fear no darkness or madness or savagery, do you? You faced them all in the Labyrinth. You would make an excellent addition to my thiasus, even if you decide not to marry me. Ariadne, the most holy and pure, Lady of the Labyrinth.” His words reverberated deep in the labyrinthine pathways of my own mind and soul, like he had revealed an ancient truth that I had known once, but forgotten.
“The Labyrinth is a holy place, of contemplation and transformation. Isn’t it? Not of death.”
He smiled that gorgeous, winning smile again. “Yes! You understand! And even where there is death, it is not absolute.” His eyes shone with feverish excitement. “Oh, I have so much to teach you!”
“Lord Dionysus, I would be honored beyond imagining if I were to become your wife.”
“So is that a yes? You will marry me?”
Something about him felt right in a way that I could not put words to, like the Fates had done all they could to bring me to this moment. This god loved me, more than the other gods love their conquests, more than I could comprehend. “Yes! I will marry you!”
At that, a cool wind blew across the island, swirling his dark hair around his face and making all the vegetation appear to shimmer. It was like the island itself was affirming my decision. “Then, Ariadne, we shall rule the revel together! In honor of our engagement…” A magnificent diadem appeared in his hands, sparkling with seven gemstones like stars. He placed it on my head, and gave me a warm kiss on my lips. “Ariadne, my bride, may you never thirst. May your lusts never go unsatisfied. May your heart always be light and joyful.”
“Thank you. Thank you, m’lord!”
“You can stop calling me that. If we are to be married, you can simply call me by my name. Or, call me what pleases you. Now, come with me!” He stood, offering me his hand. “Unless you would rather spend some more alone time together, I should finally take you off this island! I will take you home to Nysa, or perhaps to Arcadia, and we will have to throw the most spectacular bacchanal in celebration of our marriage!”
“How will we travel?”
He led me down the beach like a child eager to show something to their parent, and gestured toward a golden chariot drawn by two gigantic panthers. The chariot itself was decorated in images of swirling grapevines and serpents and satyrs making love, and the cats’ pelts gleamed. “Oh, gods… I mean… wow. Does it move over water?”
“It flies, silly!” He stood inside it and beckoned to me. “These cats can run on the wind. Hermes gave them to me.”
I climbed into the chariot and held on for dear life as the panthers bounded into the air with great strides. Soon the chariot was blazing through the bright air, and Naxos was far behind us. Dionysus laughed into the wind, which blew his long hair back from his face. As radiant as he was, I was more than a little terrified of speeding through the air high above the sea in a chariot, and felt like I would fall off at any second, although not even my diadem was dislodged from my head.
“You look terror-stricken, Ariadne. Would you like me to tell you another amusing story? That seems to have cheered you up the last time!”
“That depends on whether you can drive a chariot and get incredibly drunk at the same time.”
He laughed uproariously. “Oh, I love you so much! I can do anything and get incredibly drunk, if you were wondering. So, anyway, the story… Mortals have mixed opinions of me. Most love my parties and stories and love my wine, but they seem a bit put off by the madness and violence and lust it brings out in them… Not sure why, it’s not as though all of that wasn’t there to begin with… Mortal kings do not like this, and some of them can be quite unkind to my worshippers, testing the limits of my mercy… but one of them allowed my mentor, Silenus, to sleep in his garden. So kind of him! So of course I offered him any reward he might wish for, and… he wished that everything he touched would turn to gold.”
“Ooh. Let me guess, it backfired?”
“Oh, did it backfire! His food turned to gold and he nearly starved, and even his daughter turned to gold! Hardly my fault, of course. I promised to give him what he asked for, and I did, he just happened to be an idiot. He had the chance to wish for anything in the world, and he chose something as shallow and pointless as gold. Not to mention, he clearly had never heard of inflation, which makes me worry about his kingdom’s economy. Oh, well. He learned, and I changed everything back. I always let humans indulge themselves, but I am not a god of excess. Either they are satisfied by their pleasures, or they learn their lesson fast. The moral of the story: Know your tolerance. Also, if you want to turn things to gold, you have to do it the hard way. Hermes and I were just discussing how to turn lead to gold, in fact…”
His soothing voice and hilarious tales put me at ease, until we were traveling over beautiful mountains and verdant valleys. I had never seen mainland Greece, but the view of it from the flying chariot was incredible. I was no longer afraid of falling. As we flew, I felt as if the wind stripped me of the cares and sorrows of my former life. Dionysus had set me free. I smiled at him, and he smiled at me as the chariot descended into the lush, hidden valley where a throng of Maenads and satyrs waited to welcome home their lord and his queen.
Dionysus helped me out of the chariot, and I stood before the thiasus, their maddened eyes all turned upon me. “I am the bride of Dionysus,” I proclaimed. “I am Ariadne of the Labyrinth.”
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fabdante · 3 years
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Ok, last one. The Kat and Artemisia post. Incase you missed them, this is part of a trio of posts on Baroque art and the DmC reboot trio and a separate post on the DmC reboot and the Baroque as an art movement.
The other posts if you want to check them out: Dante and Caravaggio, Vergil and Benini, DmC and the Baroque
Today for the final installment in this little mini series, we’ll be discussing the artist who won the Baroque, Artemisia Gentileschi, and her painting Judith Slaying Holofernes, featured below. 
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Analysis of this painting, why it’s such a bop, Kat, and the devil may cry reboot below the cut!
Content Warning: discussion of abuse as it relates to Kat.
I guess we start with the beginning and the beginning is who Judith is. 
Judith is a biblical character. Upon impending invasion, she is unsatisfied with the response of her people and decides to infiltrate the enemy camp with her maid, intent to stop the enemy army. After gaining the trust of the people there, she eventually seduces general Holofernes and is invited to his tent. Then she beheads him with what I am left to assume is his sword. I suppose given the painting that part’s a little spoiled. 
A lot of paintings focus on the beheading or Judith posing with the decapitated head in victory. But a lot of them don’t have the impact of Artemisias, as seen above. 
Judith, as painted by Artemisia, is full of rage. She is not serene or delicate. She is not posing or unsure. She is angry, certain, and out for blood. Everything in her expression and her movements is full of force and intent. It’s the little details like his hair between her knuckles from where she’s gripping it and the forceful twist of her wrist on his sword that she’s taken. To her rolled sleeves in her incredibly fancy dress. And it’s not afraid to be gory to. Perhaps this is tame by modern standards of blood and gore but for the time it’s very bloody and violent. Supposedly the violence was too much for the first owner who kept it hidden for some time (allegedly). I think it’s important that while the focus is Judith doing the act, her maid is not passive in the violence. She’s holding him down with just as much force as Judith. And unwavering to, despite how we can see how Holofernes was trying to throw her off before he died, his hands still limply in the air. The maids full of as much determination as Judith is. Judith’s dressed up for this to, in a fine gown with her hair done up. This is likely part of the ruse Judith set up before she got Holofernes alone, but I like the detail none the less. That she’s dressed up for this murder.
The key to why this painting fits Kat so much to me is how it is not only full of anger and femininity and violence but how in Artemisias hands, the image feels like a bloody catharsis. There’s something personal in Judith's glare, in her rage. Something kind of interesting to in how she’s forced Holofernes to look away from her, like he hasn’t earned the right to see her victory even if by this point he is surely dead (I mean, the sword is nearly through his neck). Or like she doesn’t want to look at him at all, like he’s not worth looking at.
Likewise, for Kat, hunting demons is personal. The Order is personal. Why she’s here doing this is personal.
It’s personal because Kat killed her abusive foster father. I don’t think how impressive this is truly gets conveyed. It’s almost a throw away statement. It’s just that one line, ‘I killed the bastard’, and that’s that. Like it was easy or something. In the reboot universe, though, she’s not even in the same dimension as her foster father. We don’t get a lot of information about how much a demons human form impacts their demon form. We are told Mundus is fused to his human form, but we’re also told this is because he’s been in it so long and also there’s the matter of his relationship to the hell gate. We’re not even told how long he’s been in this form. Has it been years, decades, centuries? How long is so long that it led to this fusion? So, I don’t think we can base the average demon to this. As far as we know in canon, it’s Kat against a being in another dimension. A dimension she cannot engage with physically and to which he can escape to at any time. 
And yet she kills him anyway.
She is the only human we know of in canon who’s done this, to. To be fair, she is the only human mentioned at all in the reboot canon but by how Dante positions himself as human savior and by how certain Vergil seems to be that humans cannot take care of themselves, this must be rare.
I cannot express enough how important it is that Kat is the one who kills him to. It’s not Vergil. She doesn’t say it was Vergil. It’s also not her and Vergil, she doesn’t say that either, she doesn’t say ‘we killed the bastard’. Kat says explicitly that she killed him, ‘I killed the bastard’. It’s Kats kill. No matter how much Vergil helped her, she did it. She killed her abuser despite the odds against her. 
I can’t imagine the sort of catharsis Kat must have felt in that moment. We don’t know how she killed him, she never says. The greatest crime of the comics, in my opinion, are how they take this kill away from Kat and give it to Vergil instead. Which means no further elaboration there on what went down. But I can imagine her in that moment after, unsure how to feel with the rush of adrenaline and power and newfound safety. She’s done it. She’s done something she must have thought was impossible. And she tells us in game how this made her feel emboldened to handle the rest of demon kind. She doesn’t tell us in that many words, I suppose, but she says that she wants to deal with them all because she killed her foster father.
To Kat, this is personal. To Kat, mankind is something worth saving that she is willing to do everything to save. We don’t see her violence in game, but we know she’s willing to kill for this freedom. We know she’s willing to die for it to, given the aftermath of the Orders fall. It’s personal. And Kat sees it as something far bigger then her.
Often Kat I think is written off as someone who is naïve and weak and in need of saving. I’ve complained at length how I feel about her being called naïve. In game we see a very interesting, complex person in Kat I think. I’ve said before that it’s kind of fun to just watch her in scenes. Like really watch her. She has very deliberate body language that often betrays this calm she’s fighting to display, particularly around Dante for the first half of the game or so. It’s little things like how she physically contains herself after the ‘I like it rough’ comment, shutting her eyes and taking in a deep breath, but things that are there. She’s someone who, despite everything, is fighting to be a softer, kinder person even if she’s still got a lot of anger (Vergil does compare her and Dante, after all).
And being soft and kind does not make someone weak. Existing in a world where you are at a disadvantage to the things that aim to hurt you is not weak. Entering into your enemies tent armed with nothing but an elaborate gown and your anger, waiting until you spot a sword and an opportunity is not weak either.
I think something about Kat that is so often forgotten in the drama of the twins and everything else (because lets face it, no matter the media, female characters tend to get side lined for...everything else really), is without her the twins would have failed. It’s Kat who gets Dante and safely brings him to the Order. It’s Kat’s spells that bridge the human world to Limbo. It’s Kat who saves Vergil in the server room by way of bringing Dante to him. It’s Kat who ultimately gives the twins the final plan to get to Mundus. It was her. Dante says so at the end, to. The game recognizes that without Kat, the boys have nothing. And it's still Kat at the end who saves Vergil, and saves Dante from the guilt of killing him.
With Kat taking so much into her own hands despite her disadvantage, despite just being human, despite her softness, despite this rage boiling under her skin (or perhaps because of it), she is so much of why the world is free from demons. 
I mean Artemisia herself got that treatment, largely left out of artistic canon until very recently despite her success during her time. I also debated for a very, very long time across the many, many iteration of this essay on how much I talk about Artemisia’s personal life. I suppose if you made it this far you’ve seen that I’ve chosen not to, despite how it could be relevant to this discussion. But I think her work stands on it’s own without me having to justify the anger Artemisia may have personally felt and conveyed here without bringing up her personal life in depth. Though, if you want to know, I assure you that pretty much any information you look up on Artemisia will go into detail on her personal traumas and how that might impact her work. And it could definitely be relevant angle in discussing Kat and Artemisia, I just felt it overall did not add to this essay.
I often wonder, if she was in a different game or a different medium or a different story, if Kat might get more love. So often she’s called weak for the crime of not having a big weapon and a trail of dead demons behind her. So often she’s reduced to a love interest or a damsel despite how she is really the thing that saved the day, despite the fact her relationship with both twins is much more then ‘potential love interest’. And how many times have you  guys seen a post on your dash about wishing a character picked to enact revenge on an abuser? How they fought to be soft despite their trauma and pain? But I suppose, as is often the case with women in any story, she might have gotten this treatment anyway.
So, here’s to Kat. The brain cell, the Nephilim baby sitter, the girl who wanted to throw Vergil off a cliff, the hero Limbo city got who will never get enough credit, and forever the girl who deserved more. 
Those of us who love you will love you enough for the whole fandom, it’s alright.
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yesttoheaven · 3 years
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I SEE YOU – chapter IV
pairing – arthur fleck x female!reader
wc – 2.3k
warnings – idk... misty being a b*tch with arthur?
a/n – hi everyone! I hope you are well because I'm brazilian and I cannot say the same lol the president is a piece of shit and he can't rule the country in the middle of a pandemic (not even without the pandemic, in fact)
anyway enjoy the chapter!
English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.
Y/N – your name
chapter one. chapter two.
chapter three. chapter four.
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"What are you doing here, Misty?" The surprise was notable in Y/N's words.
Many people could walk through that door, but Misty was definitely not one of them.
"I should ask you the same question..." The woman came over and put her hands on the actress' shoulders, smiling amiably. "But we don't have time for that right now. You have a dinner to go! And it is not right to keep a man like Charles waiting."
"Charles?" Arthur asked, trying to find a way to join the conversation. "Is he also an actor?"
After these simple words, the redhead burst out laughing and Arthur didn't understand what he had done wrong this time. He was just curious and a little interested to know who was the man who had a date with Y/N that night.
"Actor? God, have you never heard of Charles Lewis Tiffany?" Misty questioned how if the fact that Arthur didn’t know the man was an offense to humanity and Arthur just shook his head, too embarrassed to say anything else.
Who the hell was this man? The Pope? And why did Y/N have a dinner with Pope?
"It's okay, Arthur." Always so graceful, the actress reassured him and left Misty's side to be close to him. "Charles owns Tiffany & Co., the one that appears in the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's... Have you watched this movie before?"
"Oh, oftentimes!"
"Me either! And now Charles wants me to be the face of his new collection! I'm so excited, he came to Gotham just to follow it up in person!" The happiness shining in her eyes was contagious, but Misty didn’t like seeing Y/N squeeze the man’s arm gently.
"I hate to have to do this... the conversation is so pleasant, but we have to go, mon cher." With a smile, Y/N's manager adjusted the bag on her shoulder. She wanted to take the actress away from this freak as soon as possible.
"You cannot go without the VHS tape." Arthur objected, receiving a death glare from Misty, but the only thing that mattered to him was Y/N. "I'll get this for you." After these words, the man left the living room with a reason to make her stay a little longer in his apartment.
"Well, I think we're going to have to wait." Y/N shrugged, but inside she was beaming.
Feeling her mouth dry, she picked up the glass of water on the table, but that was her worst mistake.
"What are you doing? Don't drink this! That dirty glass is full of germs!" The glass was snatched from her hand and Y/N looked at Misty in disbelief.
"That glass is not dirty, Misty."
"How can you be sure of that? I heard that the Narrows sewer is one of the worst in Gotham!"
"Thanks for the lesson, but that didn’t come from the Narrows sewer. This water is from the kitchen tap."
"Oh my God..." The actress could have sworn that the woman's face turned green and she would vomit at any moment. "Why did you drink this? You'll be sick!"
Before Y/N had a chance to respond to these insanities, someone called her. She ran over to the bag and took out her cell phone. It was Charles.
"Hey, Charles! It's good to talk to you." On the other side, all she received were strange noises. The man's voice was being cut off and it was difficult to understand. "The connection is awful..."
"Why am I not surprised? Narrows is the end of the world!" Misty commented, rolling her eyes.
Without time for this discussion, Y/N said:
"Maybe in the corridor I will get a better signal."
"Be careful, you don't know what kind of neighbors there are in this place." She warned, listening to the door open and close, but Y/N said nothing.
Alone in the living room, Misty had the same disgusted look as when she arrived. For her this apartment is small even for an ant and this wallpaper is ridiculous, but in the midst of so much poverty, something on the couch attracted her attention.
"What do we have right here? I don't believe he has a diary..." The woman whispers to herself, laughing, after picking up Arthur's journal. She knew it was wrong, but she was bored.
The first few pages were OK, he had a shitty life like any other unfortunate person, but what came next scared the hell out of her. Misty knew there was something wrong with this man. The instant she saw him, she knew, but that... those words... were from a sick person. Arthur was a disgusting pervert. The redhead needed a moment to breathe and then she saw the magazines on the table and an scissors...
Oh no. He intends to include Y/N in this depravity show!
"I finally found." With bright eyes, Arthur looked for Y/N in the living room, but all he found was Misty... and his journal. "W-What... What are you d-doing?"
"Stay away from me!" She exclaimed, backing away for fear that he would do something against her. "I swear, if you get close I'll scream so loud and when Y/N comes through that door, I will tell her your little secret. She will be so disappointed, but she will finally find out who you really are... A perv!"
"N-No, please... You got it wrong." He tried, his voice taking on a desperate tone. Arthur didn't want to lose the actress's friendship. She was too important for him. "I c-can explain."
"Oh, can you explain? You will glue Y/N's head to a cat's body and then you will sit on that old sofa and touch yourself? You should be in Arkham! You're a sick person! I can't believe Y/N was alone with you..."
Arthur felt his stomach churning.
"You're wrong... I have a lot of respect for her. Y/N is special to me and I would never do something like that."
"I don't want to hear your excuses!" The woman threw the journal at him and Arthur cringed like a frightened dog. After hitting him on the back, the journal fell to the floor and when he saw those collages, he felt ashamed of himself. "Listen to me... I will say this only once: Stay away from her. It doesn’t matter what kind of fantasies you’ve created in your sick head, Y/N will not be a part of that. If I know that after today you keep talking to her, I'll call the police and when they find out you're a fucking perv, you will spend the rest of your days in Arkham." She warned with all the letters and threats, now it was up to him to choose to cooperate or not. This man is too old to play being a teenager. These images of naked women, these cats and those sad quotes in his journal prove just one thing. Maybe he's a sexual predator, but Misty wouldn't be here to find that out either. "Enjoy your pornography and leave Y/N alone. I hope I never see you again."
Arthur saw his world fall apart as soon as the redhead left his apartment with the worst assumptions about him. He was not a perverted monster. He would never touch Y/N without her consent and would never endanger her life. Never ever. Y/N was the only good thing about Gotham; she was a light at the end of the tunnel. So angelic and peaceful. Whenever she smiles, butterflies appear in his stomach and Arthur knows what these famous butterflies mean, but he doesn't know what those collages mean... If Y/N knew, she would probably be afraid of him.
In the corridor, the actress was trapped in a bubble, talking animatedly with Charles. The call had no specific reason, the man just wanted to make sure everything was fine for dinner that night.
"Okay... This is one of Gotham's best restaurants. Trust me, you will love the place!" She assured him, intending to make a good impression. It wasn't every day that she got a chance to dine with the genius behind Tiffany & Co. and represent that brand. This was an important step in her career. "Now I need to go, Charles. See you soon, bye!" Y/N hummed the ending, watching Misty approach where she was. "Why are you here?"
"It's just your friend's mom. She's not feeling very well..."
"Isn't Penny okay?" Concern crossed Y/N's face and she tried to get back to apartment 8J, but Misty took her arm, lying again:
"Y/N, don't be indiscreet. This is a family problem and Arthur is taking care of it." With those words, she guided the actress to the elevator, but Y/N kept looking at the door to Arthur's apartment. "You need to prepare for dinner... I chose a beautiful dress for you."
...
THREE DAYS LATER
"Put red on her lips... Don't forget the mascara... and on the cheeks use this blush... Not this one! The peach blush!"
It was possible to say that Charles Lewis Tiffany was taking the place of the makeup artist. The woman was losing patience, Y/N realized this, but he wanted to participate in every second of it. When she finished, Charles smiled, admiring Y/N's beauty through the mirror.
"You see? You're genuinely beautiful... I think I finally found my muse." The actress was flattered by the compliments and that reflected in her smile when Charles took a blue box, but this was not a simple blue box. This is the famous Tiffany Blue Box. "I want you to meet my new creation..." He opened the box, stealing Y/N's breath instantly. "Dramatically plunging down the decolletage, an incredible emerald-cut bicolor zoisite that shifts from violet-blue to purplish-red, depending on the angle. The pendant is over 48 carats and it's wrapped in a halo of baguette diamonds and suspended from a diamond rondelle chain of over 37 total carats."
"Oh Charles, this is absolutely beautiful. I'm speechless..." She confessed, watching him take the necklace and offer to put it around her neck. Y/N accepted immediately and when the pendant touched the white fabric of the dress, she smiled at the mirror.
"Diamonds are a girl's best friend" Charles whispered, eliciting a giggle from her. "Now I need to speak to the photographer, but take a few minutes to prepare yourself." The man smiled one last time and Y/N walked to the door, opening it for him. She took the opportunity to spy on what was happening on the other side and it was possible to say that there was a little sadness in her eyes.
"What are you looking for?" Misty's voice echoed and she closed the door quickly.
"Huh... nothing!"
The woman was checking the contract – something about image authorization – and when she took her eyes off the papers, she found Y/N with a half-hearted smile.
"Go ahead... Spill the tea."
Brian was probably smoking, so Misty was her only option.
"Arthur was busy these days, but he called me this morning... He looked nervous and said he would like to talk to me, so I invited him to accompany the photoshoot, but..."
"You did what?!" Misty left the chair, interrupting her. Not wanting to start a scene, the redhead looked at Dariela, the makeup artist, and said: "Get out." The woman immediately stopped organizing her makeup and ran out of the dressing room.
"Was that necessary?" Y/N asked, crossing her arms.
"And was it necessary to invite that maniac to come here too?"
"Jesus, Misty!" She walked to the other side of the dressing room. "Manic? Really?"
"I'm just telling the truth."
"Based on what? His bank account?"
"Based on his journal." Misty replied and the actress looked in her direction with a frown. Shaking her head, the redhead let out a bitter laugh before confessing: "He doesn't use it just to write jokes... I found a lot of pornography on those pages."
Y/N felt a little uncomfortable with that. Certain things do not need to be exposed... She didn't need to know about that part of Arthur's life and Misty just invaded his privacy.
"Well... many men consume pornography daily."
"Y/N, pornography is not the point here. He makes some weird collages... women with cat heads... skulls... one of these women was tied up in a compromising position... Can you see how problematic this is?" Misty was trying to open her eyes and consequently was scaring the actress, but that was not all. "I saw the magazines. That man will probably do the same to you... your face on the body of these naked women or on a cat's body! You have always been uncomfortable with the way men see you only as a sex symbol... and now Arthur is using you as a sex toy!"
"Stop! Just stop, okay?" Y/N demanded, using an edgy tone of voice. That was too much for her to assimilate. "You're saying this because you do not accept the idea of ​​Arthur being my friend! All that matters to you is status, but it doesn't matter to me! When are you going to let me live my own life?"
"This is not about social classes, this man is a pervert! I'm trying to protect you!"
"Enough, Misty!" That was enough to make the redhead shut up and Y/N found her way back to the mirror.
To complete the look, inside the blue box was a beautiful diamond ring and a pair of shiny round diamond earrings, just waiting for her. Putting on the ring was an easy task, but she couldn’t say the same about earrings; her hands were shaking and this is all the fault of the stress.
"Let me help you." The manager approached and at first Y/N refused her help, but after another failed attempt, she handed the earrings to the woman. "I know I can be a bitch sometimes..."
"Sometimes?"
Misty just sighed, shaking her head.
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a/n – likes and reblogs are appreciated but honestly I’d love to know what you all think of this one. really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ♡
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