#like being afraid to speak up is not natural to women it's conditioned

[wri0thesley]

can i request arranged marriage with toji and corruption please 🥰

wedding rings - toji x fem!reader (5k)

the zenin clan just can't stop meddling in toji's affairs. what's he supposed to do with the nervous little virgin who shows up on his doorstep and says that her family and his have said they have to get married? not fuck her?

warnings: not sfw/minors dni. arranged marriage. corruption kink. virgin reader. light cunnilingus, fingering, coming inside. light dub-con by nature of 'arranged marriage'. afab reader, fem pronouns.

[a/n: writing toji is always so much fun ;_; ]

When you showed up at Toji’s door with suitcase in hand, trembling lip and eyes all wide and frightened, he had laughed outright.

It was just like the fucking Zenin clan to be meddling in his life even now, wasn’t it? Even though Toji has abandoned them and slaughtered their ilk, their bullshit about bloodlines still leaks into every facet of what they do; and clearly the idea that Toji, even with his flawed lack of cursed energy, might be able to pass on the technique and hasn’t got a pretty little wife to impregnate yet had rankled them so badly that they’d sorted the whole situation out for him.

If he didn’t hate jujutsu society so much, he’d almost feel bad for you.

You’re clearly in the bloom of life; fresh-faced and innocent, not expecting to find yourself in Toji’s messy shithole of an apartment (why bother making it nice, when he spends so long out of it for work?). He wonders who you’ve pissed off to end up here.

As it turns out, you end up telling him yourself, a frown on your face.

Turns out, you’re . . . not quite just like him, but you’ve been fucked over by your clan just as much for not being able to be useful. You can see cursed spirits, but you’ve got no cursed energy, no technique – despite your clan usually producing good, dutiful, powerful wives. Disappointment of the family. He can understand what that feels like.

So they were probably glad to get rid of you. Might even hope you’ll bear Toji’s kid and it’ll have no technique to speak of itself, too – so both families can forget about you.

(Well, Toji thinks to himself with a grin – his family can’t forget about him, much as they want to, considering both his nickname and his line of work.)

He takes a sip of the glass of water he’s holding in his hand, green eyes focused very hard on you. You’re not in traditional clothing, like most clan members he knows would be; you’re wearing a pale blue dress that you keep tugging uncomfortably down over your thighs. Toji lets his eyes linger on your thighs, too – he might as well appreciate the view, he supposes.

Your suitcase is full of, as well as a collection of clothes in modest cut and soft, pastel colours, documents. Toji flips through some of them, nose wrinkling at the boring jargon. He does linger on a caveat about if you bear him children, they all have to take the Zenin name, and Toji and you will be ‘compensated handsomely’ for handing over the kid’s education and raising to the clan--

Bullshit.

Toji’s about to crumple them up on the floor and tell you to get the fuck out of his house, when he catches sight of you over the edge of the paper. You’ve drawn yourself in; shoulders tight, pretty mouth pressed into a tight line, eyes shining with a mixture between hope and fear. You look so lost. You look so innocent.

A little curl of heat makes itself known in the very base of Toji’s stomach; the thought of you being a good little wife, on your knees. The thought of him telling you exactly how to suck his cock.

He knows how the sorcerer clans raise women like you.

He knows you’ll be eager to please and obedient, falling over yourself to keep your man happy. He knows, too, that you’ll be pliant and agreeable – and that you’ll be pure as the driven snow. That thought gives him pause.

You’re seductive to him without realising it, in the totally guileless way you act, as if you don’t know that he’s considering how your tits would fill his hands and how tight your precious, untouched cunt would feel around his girth.

If he rejects you, what will your clan do?

You’re as fucked as him. He can see it in the shine of your eyes in his kitchen; you’re afraid he will throw you out, like he was thinking of. Leave you to fend for yourself on the streets of Japan, because there’s no way your family will want you back after even scum like Toji’s rejected you.

Would it be so bad?

He lets himself look at you critically. He takes in the curves, the dips, the contours of your body; the way you’d feel beneath him. Your face, and what it would look like lost in pleasure.

Perhaps it would be pleasant, to have someone to return to after a hit; to have someone warm his bed, curl around him, cook for him and take care of him. Perhaps it would be pleasant to take a pretty little virgin and break her into exactly what he wants in a woman. To teach her how he likes to fuck, how he likes her to act, to condition her until he can crook his finger at her and she’s bending over, presenting herself already slick and needy for his cock to use however he sees fit.

“Alright,” he says, draining the glass. “Sure, sweetheart. We’ll get married.”

Later on that night, he creeps into the spare room. You’re asleep on top of the covers in a cute pyjama set that’s all frills and froth and pale pink; elastic in the shorts digging into the flesh of your thighs, top clinging to the curve of your chest. His cock stirs in his pants looking at you. You’re so . . . innocent. There’s no mark to you; Toji wants to cling to your hips until there are bruises in the shape of his hands, wants to worry love-bites into your neck like a necklace, wants to ruin you until you’re tear-stained and whimpering and arching your hips up for him--

Calloused fingers trail along your skin. You’re so soft. Where Toji is all scars and muscle, your skin is like satin. You moan in your sleep, pretty face furrowing, and Toji wants to see your face creased in pleasure too. Your mouth drops open and he imagines thrusting his cock in it; how pretty and shiny your lips would look wrapped around his shaft, almost too big for you to even take.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, thumb skimming the exposed stomach where your pyjama top has ridden up. “Ripe for the picking, ain’t ya?”

Your eyes twitch. Eyebrows, furrow – and you blink your gaze awake, sticky-slow, to see your fiancee looming over you in the dark.

“What’re you—?” You ask, still sleep-laced, but Toji just makes a soft noise in the back of his throat.

“Just lookin’ at the merchandise, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Wanna make sure you ain’t damaged, that’s all--”

“I—I’m not!” The cute little burst of outrage is ruined somewhat by the yawn that you have to suppress in the middle of it, but Toji grins.

He didn’t think the Zenins would send you if you weren’t – they wouldn’t want to risk the precious possibility of a kid born with power and technique not really being one of theirs – but it’s nice to hear your mouth confirm what he’s been suspecting and hoping is the truth.

“Aw, baby girl,” he says, keeping his voice low and even, trying to comfort you even as his hand is sliding further up, cupping one of your breasts (his palm brushes your nipple and he feels it harden beneath his touch, stiffening to a peak – he wants to see what you look like under there so badly), “C’mon, it’s fine. I ain’t gonna hurt you--”

“M-Mr Zenin,” you say, and the tremble in your voice is so cute. His cock is straining against the boxer shorts he wore to sleep in. You’re wide awake now; your eyes meeting his. “I—I know, but--”

He’s on the bed. He doesn’t miss how your gaze strays to his veined forearms, where the muscles bulge in his biceps, the carefully sculpted and maintained abdomen and pecs – he sees the swallow in your throat, the way your cute little tongue reaches out to swipe nervously over your lower lip.

Thumb brushes your collarbone and you shudder, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation. He sees your thighs twitch, squeeze together – he’s willing to bet if he dipped his fingers into your slit right now, he’d pull his digits back out with your slick glimmering on them.

“Just call me Toji.”

“T-Toji—” Your voice pitches, shuddering with arousal that you don’t know how to handle. He’s heard that note in women’s voice before; that desperate ‘I want to be touched, but I know I shouldn’t want it’ wobble. He’s been the cause of it more times than he can count.

“S’okay,” he soothes, his other hand rounding over your hip, his knees nudging your legs apart. “You’re savin’ yourself for marriage, yeah? We’ll get the papers signed in the mornin’, I promise, botha our families are the kind to make sure things can be rushed through quick--”

“I—” You’re a little breathless, all needy and hot under his touch. It’s adorable. “I shouldn’t, please, it’s only a few days--”

“You want to.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement, as he curls his fingers about your hip, as he settles his own muscular thighs between yours and he sees that there’s a damp spot on the pale pink shorts. Soaked through your underwear and your nightwear? He forgot how sensitive virgins can be. “Don’t lie to yourself, angel.”

He leans down, scarred lips brushing yours. You taste like his toothpaste; peppermint on his tongue as he swipes it over your lower lip and you sigh as you allow him entrance. It’s the first mark of him on you, but he knows it won’t be the last. He deliberately presses his knee against your clothed mount, grinding it just a little – and you whimper into his mouth, heated and desperate.

“We’ll be married soon as,” he murmurs to you, pulling back, looking at you with lust darkening his eyes. No man has ever looked at you quite as hungrily as Toji is looking at you right now. And he’s so handsome, his touches gentle-- “You wanna be a good girl for me, right? S’just what a wife does for her husband, yeah?”

“Yes,” you breathe, and Toji grins at you. It’s a feral, starving grin, that you feel deep inside of you as you clench around nothing and burn to be touched.

He kisses you again, hungrier. He nips at your lower lip, his tongue roughly demanding entrance – he dances against your own. You’ve never really understood the idea of kissing with tongues, but Toji knows exactly what he’s doing; hitting a spot on the roof of your mouth that makes you shudder and gasp, your hands coming up to grasp his biceps.

The muscle underneath them is so solid, and Toji can’t help but notice how soft your hands are on him. He knows you’ll be that soft everywhere else, and the thought spurs him on.

“I’m gonna undress you now,” he tells you, thick and throaty. His big fingers curve under the hem of the lacy top you’re wearing, gently tugging it up over your stomach and then your breasts. That sharp green gaze caresses every newly bared inch of you, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Fuckin’ hell. You’re a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart.”

Your skin feels hot under the compliment, Toji’s flat palm sliding along the softness of your tummy to round over your breasts. Your nipples have pebbled and stiffened in the cool air of the spare room, and Toji flicks his thumb along one (making you shiver, again, he notices) before he bends his head to suckle the bud into his mouth, his tongue lapping at it in a way that has your back arching and thighs clenching.

He chuckles at the noise you make as his lips pop off, and he turns his attention to the other side.

“Responsive, ain’t ya?” He asks. “You’re adorable.”

You give him a trembling breath as a response, which he takes as a sign to begin a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses down from your breasts to your stomach, tongue tracing the shape of your navel, teeth grazing your hips so gently that you barely feel them. He takes the waistband of your shorts in his mouth and tugs those down using your teeth, and the vision of him between your legs like that--

“Ha,” he says, as his fingers reach to tug them, expertly manipulating your legs so he can get them off without moving from between them. “Careful there, darlin’. You’re gonna soak right through the sheets.”

His mouth, again – kissing firmly against the wet patch on your underwear, his breath fiery hot. His mouth is solid enough that you feel the jolt that goes through you as his nose pushes against your clit, even through the cotton. Toji almost smirks at how much of a cliché the white cotton underwear trimmed with pale pink lace is, but the scent of you is too heady for him to want to do anything but bury his head between your thighs.

Lower. He kisses all over your slit, hard enough that you jerk, ruing the barrier between you two. His thumb strokes circles into your inner thigh--

He seems content to kiss at you through the fabric – but really, he’s waiting for you to give in. To beg him to take them off. From just how wet his face is even with the barrier in his way, he doesn’t think it will be long – and you do not disappoint. You raise your whips, softly mewling;

“Please, I –”

“Please, what, darlin’?” He asks you. “C’mon, you can use your words – no secrets from your husband, right?”

“I—” You’re so cute, squirming and feeling like a slut for him. He loves it. He loves the tremble of your body and the fact that your eyes are glassy with need. “P-please take my underwear off, I wanna--” You swallow. “W-wanna feel without it--”

“Aww, y’should’ve just said so,” Toji says. Fingers pry beneath the gusset.

He doesn’t bother manipulating your body this time. He simply tugs hard enough to split the seams, the fabric delicate from being saturated in your slick.

(Doesn’t matter, anyway. While he’s home, you won’t be wearing underwear.)

You gasp at the display of strength, swallowing – and Toji grins at you again. Oh, you like that? He’s got more shows of strength where that came from, don’t you worry.

He props up your knees with his hands and says;

“Wrap your hands around these, keep your legs spread for me like a good girl, yeah?”

You nod, shyly averting your gaze as you do just that and the position spreads you open lewdly; your velvet-soft folds bared entirely to Toji’s hungry eyes.

You’re already absolutely dripping, but Toji can see that you’re nervous.

“Don’t worry,” he soothes you, again. He can’t help but notice how small you look; the pearl of your clit nestled between curling soft petals, your pulsing hole. He knows you’ll take him, but . . . fuck, he thinks you’ll be a stretch. Not that that’s a bad thing. “I’m gonna open you up, darlin’, alright?”

“Y-yeah,” your voice is tremulous, soft – and sends a throb right to his cock. It’s been straining against his boxer shorts since the moment he saw you, but your eyes all big and glossy with trust and the vulnerable position you’re in and the knowledge you have never been touched like this are really doing a number on it.

But fuck it, he’s not gonna hurt you more than he has to if he’s really going to keep you around. He gently spreads your plump labia lips even further apart with his fingers, so your clit stands swollen to attention. You shiver under his calloused fingers, as he leans in and a hot wash of breath fans over you.

Toji’s tongue darts out to lap a long, slow stripe from perineum to clit, and though he can’t see your face any more, he hears the way you whimper.

Another. He lets himself soak his face in your slick; lets his tongue get deep between your folds. You taste so good on his tongue; honey-sticky and sugar-sweet. The tip of the wet muscle gently flickers against your clit and your hands are suddenly wrapped in his hair, your chest heaving in sensitive gasps. You keep your legs raised, so he decides to be kind. He eases his lips off of you for a moment to mumble, amused;

“Don’t pull too hard, I’m too young to be losin’ my hair--”

Before he dives back in between your legs, once more licking and sucking at the tender flesh. Your stomach explodes in fireworks, your heart beating so fast you can hear it in your ears. Toji’s mouth and tongue against you is a wet, lascivious noise that at once makes your toes curl in pleasure and cringe in embarrassment. Is it awful and forward of you to be enjoying yourself like this? Your family have always drilled into you that a proper wife isn’t a slut, but still does what her husband wants--

Toji’s not your husband yet, but this is fine, right? To have him eating you out like you’re a desert oasis? His lips lock around your clit and he sucks and your vision whites out for a second, your hands tugging hard at the dark hair in your grip--

And he comes away with a light laugh that still manages to shiver with seduction. His face is shiny with you as he looks at you with eyes half-lidded and still hungry.

“What’d I say, huh?” He teases you. “Angel, I could have fucked you with my tongue all night--” He likes seeing how the crude words make you flinch, nervous but pleased but ashamed all warring within you. Your lips are pushed forward, the moue almost petulant. His voice drops a tone. “Don’t look at me with that cute pout. You don’t know what it does to me.”

If he didn’t still need to stretch you out using his fingers, he’d take a moment to kiss you so you could taste yourself and just how needy you’d been for him on his lips. But he’s still driving a hole through his boxers, so . . . the sooner you’re able to take him, the better.

You’ve gone back to holding your legs apart with your hands. Excellent.

Besides. He hadn’t finished what he was doing, and he thinks it’ll be easier to fuck you if you’ve already come once. Your poor, swollen clit hasn’t had all the attention it deserves. You’re being so cute, so well-behaved for him--

“Relax,” he says, softly, as he eases his fingers from spreading you open, dipping them in the mess he’s made of your slit. “This might sting a bit--”

One finger finds your hole; circles the sensitive entrance, making the muscles in your thighs tremble. But you keep your legs spread open for him like a good girl, and he’s able to gently push his index finger in, first to one knuckle, then to the second, and then to the ones at the base.

“Good girl,” he breathes, barely able to breathe at how tight you feel around him. Your insides are silky and hot and wet, clinging to him like a lifeboat in the sea. He pumps the lone finger in and out of you, rubbing the pad against the inside of your walls until he finds the spot that makes you throw your head back and give him a long, choked moan. “There we go,” he keeps talking to you, softly, like you’re a spooked animal. “’M gonna put the second one in, yeah? You’re takin’ it like a champ, sweetheart. You wanted this, huh?”

You babble something that he doesn’t care enough to listen to but overall sounds positive. This one’s a stretch, his middle finger and index finger even tighter. But he needs to get three in you, he thinks, or you’ll never take his cock. You let go of your thighs, and he sucks in a breath – but your feet clearly need purchase on the bed, your fingers twisting in bedsheets now they can’t twist in his hair, and you breathe through the stretch so he figures it’d be churlish to tell you off for it now.

He keeps hitting that spot as he fucks you slowly on his fingers, until he can feel your cunt sucking him in, pulsing around him.

“Third finger,” he tells you, his own throat dry. “Next time I fuck you with this one, you’ll feel my weddin’ ring--”

You tighten around the other two at that. Cute. Three fingers opening you wide, scissoring inside of you, aches – but you’re being so good for him, the most that’s coming out of your mouth sweet little whines. Toji rewards you by crooking them inside you against that spot, his thumb coming to gently rub circles into your swollen clit.

He’s been teasing you for too long, and you are a virgin – it’s no surprise that the stimulation proves too much for you too quickly, and you arch your back at the same time as fireworks go off inside of you, your cunt fluttering around his fingers, tightening and loosening as waves of euphoria wash over you.

You soak Toji’s fingers with the rush of your release; the gush of liquid.

He whistles, low and impressed. So you’re a squirter, huh? Toji doesn’t mind that at all. It’s not like he’ll be doing the laundry – and it’s kind of hot, to look down at you and see what a mess he’s made of your little virgin cunt--

“That’s it,” he says, guiding you over the last low crests of your orgasm. “I think y’can take me now, sweetheart. Let’s get you comfy--”

He shows off his strength a bit, because he knows it will get you going despite the sensitivity of your body from your recent orgasm. You’re man-handled by him higher on the bed, so your head is on the mountain of pillows you’ve slipped down. He can pick you up as if you weigh nothing at all, despite the creak of the bedsprings clearly saying the opposite.

Your legs are urged to wrap around his hips.

“Don’t worry,” he tells you, again. He doesn’t think he’s ever reassured a fuck as carefully and constantly as he’s reassuring you; but then again, he’s never intended to marry one of his fucks before.

You, though – you’re so adaptable. So untouched. So different from women and men who come onto him at bars and flutter eyelashes and make soft little insinuations. He can corrupt you into exactly what he wants, and the thought of you knowing nothing but his cock forever and serving him like he’s the only man in the world--

It’s enough to make a lesser man come in his pants.

“You’re tired, yeah? I’ll do most of the work. You lie there and take it like the sweetheart you are.”

He’s shucked his underwear off in the man-handling, and now he shifts so that you can see the full glory of what he’s packing. Your eyes widen.

He gets that a lot. Even for a virgin who’s probably never seen a cock before, it’s obvious that Toji’s the real deal – you swallow, nervous, and whisper;

“I—what if it doesn’t fit--?”

(There’s a tremble of fear in there, that you’ve fucked up; that he still might throw you aside if you can’t take him, and now you’ve been utterly ruined.)

“Hey,” he says, all comforting and appeasing, “I ain’t hurt you yet, have I?” You shake your head, but your bottom lip is still trembling. “I’m gonna go slow with you, I promise.” He shifts forward again, the head of his cock catching against your entrance. “Just keep your eyes on me, darlin’. I promise, it’ll feel so good . . . you wanna keep your husband happy, don’t ya? I’ve already got you all stretched and prepped. Just breathe--”

He keeps up the steady stream of talk as he urges his hips forward, your cunt swallowing the head of his cock first before he’s able to push more of his shaft in. You keep your eyes on his, green eyes locked against yours – and though he can hear the shake in your chest, you don’t make any noise louder than a huff when he gets two thirds of the way in. He pauses there for a minute, letting you adjust – he can feel every minute tremble of your body, swears he can hear your heartbeat.

“Good?” He asks, and you nod – and he slides the last third of himself inside you in the same unhurried pace, until he’s settled hot and heavy entirely inside of you.

His eyes map your stomach, pleasure rushing through him at how big he must be inside of you; there’s the lightest shadow on your pelvis, as if he’s big enough to make your stomach bulge. He takes in the sight of you with all nine inches of him buried inside of you; the sore, spread-wide stretch of your cunt around him, the creamy ring of your pleasure where you’re joined.

He can’t fuck you vigorously – he thinks he’d fucking breakyou - but you’re tight enough that he’s getting plenty of stimulation just from keeping his cock in there.

“P-please,” you manage to form, through your swollen lips and your glassy eyes and your dry throat. “W-want you to fuck me, Toji--”

Oh, fucking hell.

You’re perfect.

“I will, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he instinctively leans down and presses a kiss on your sweat-soaked forehead, flexing his hips so they withdraw the smallest amount. “Just lie there and take it for me--”

You do.

He doesn’t fuck into you with abandon, though he wants to more than he can say; plenty of time for that in the future, as your cunt moulds to his cock and it isn’t such an effort to get it inside of you. Plenty of time for you to learn just how hard he wants to rail you, until you’re covered in his bruises and there are friction burns on your knees – plenty of time for him to show you every depraved thing you make him want to do to you and make sure that you enjoy it.

He fucks you with slow, shallow strokes, taking most of his pleasure from the way you feel around of him; your eyes, your mouth, your heaving chest. You’re hot and tight and wet and grip him perfectly – his fingers digging into your thighs where they’re wrapped around his hips.

He’s been hard for what seems like hours, so it’s no surprise, either, that he feels his orgasm come quickly up on him like a steam train – it’s not like you’re going to shame him for coming quickly, you’ve never even been fucked before. So he lets the heat all gather low in his belly until he can feel himself teetering on the edge – and then, he dips his head and pulls you into a heated kiss as he grinds his hips in a circular motion inside of you and feels himself tip over the precipice.

His cock shudders and judders inside of you, shooting rope after rope of his come deep into your body; thick and hot and full. His teeth worry at your bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood, the groan vibrating through you as he comes and pushing you into another short, trembling orgasm as if trying to milk him dry of everything that he can give you.

(You like him coming inside? He can work with that too.)

Your thighs are tight around his hips, your arms draping loosely about his neck as he kisses you. Your tongue nervously probes at the scar; the slightly raised line bisecting his mouth, and though he usually doesn’t like it being noticed or touched (he knows it gives him an air of danger, but sometimes the events surrounding it’s acquirement sting), he finds that with you he doesn’t mind.

With you, his eyes flicker closed and he just enjoys the closeness and warmth of your body, even as he gently pulls his cock out of you (you leak slick onto the bedsheets, again. He’s gonna have to buy some more laundry tablets).

“How’s that, darlin?” He murmurs to you, not moving from his comfortable place on top of you. “Glad y’didn’t save it for marriage now, huh?”

Your cheeks radiating heat is enough answer for him, Toji’s smirk so wide and smug that it threatens to split his face in two. He flops to one side of you, pulling you in, cradling you against him like a little spoon. He can’t help but notice that the curve of your body fits perfectly against his.

The two of you will fit even better in Toji’s bed, he thinks.

“We’ll get all the paperwork and shit sorted tomorrow,” he tells you, as he feels your breathing begin to even out, the tremors from your orgasm begin to fade. He could get used to this too. Someone warming his bed. Someone to cuddle up to on cold nights. Someone soft, to ease the loneliness he hadn’t realised he was feeling.

He doesn’t want to get sappy on you, though. He lowers his face to the shell of your ear, breathing gently, murmuring in a voice that’s still dripping with desire for everything you represent to him;

“The other stuff that goes with a marriage too. I wasn’t kiddin’ about wantin’ to finger you with my wedding ring on, darlin’.”

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji x you #toji fushiguro x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #not sfw #writing #afab reader #fem pronouns #dub con for ts #jjk writing #5555 follower event #jjk posting

[gatheringbones]

["At the end of August in 1981, I found myself in a small town in Arkansas, where I knew no Lesbians other than my new lover, Lynn. I wanted it that way. We were living in hiding from my armed and vengeful ex-lover who had abused me for four years and had threatened both of us with deadly harm. This was five years before the publication of Kerry Lobel's ground-breaking book, Naming the Violence: Speaking Out About Lesbian Battering. I knew I had been battered, but I did not understand how deeply I had been injured.

I only knew that I seemed to have saved my life at the cost of my sanity. I jumped at loud and not-so-loud noises. A frown from a stranger could reduce me to tears. I was afraid to bathe if I was alone in the apartment. I relived every word of every fight in relentless flashbacks. I had blocked much of the unbearable pain of the previous four years out of my consciousness at the time, in order to cope with immediate danger. Now that I was "safe" it all came flooding back. To escape, I watched TV compulsively, avoiding anything violent—nature shows were my favorites—and I read science fiction. Having lost faith in women as well as men, I was a serious candidate for a species-change operation.

Luckily, at some point in that bleak winter, I read a magazine article on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) in Vietnam Vets, and I recognized all my symptoms. I had a name for my suffering, and 1 knew I was not "crazy." I'd felt so much guilt and anger towards myself for not being okay, that is, my old self, since I was "free." Now I knew healing would take time and effort, and I gave myself permission to not be normal right away. Also, seeing how much my condition resembled that of war survivors helped break down some of my denial about the hell I'd been through.

Still, I had no guidance on how to recover from PTSD. I followed only the dimmest instincts. First, I began to read accounts by survivors of any serious trauma. These people became my invisible support group. I found myself drawn especially to stories of political prisoners and concentration camp survivors. Although my experience was not like theirs, these were the people I felt would understand how my will had been sapped and my strengths twisted, how the smallest acts of resistance and mere endurance had needed all my wits and courage. Bruno Bettleheim in his chapters called "Behavior in Extreme Situations" (The Informed Heart) finally answered the question I'd put to myself every 44 hour since my escape: "How could I have been so stupid?" He made me realize that under abuse, especially the combination of intermittent threats, unpredictable violence and constant psychological torture, everyone responds differently, but everyone changes fundamentally, and everyone has their breaking point.

One day as I sat reading at the kitchen table, I looked out the window at the small yard beside our duplex apartment, and I began to imagine growing a garden there in the spring. It seemed like a highly improbable idea: the area was very small, steep, bare of everything but gray shale and orange clay, and the house shaded it part of the day. But the notion of a garden took root strongly. For the first time in several years I had something pleasant to anticipate.

I wrangled my landlady's permission to put in a garden. Then I mailed off postcards for seed catalogs. I persuaded an acquaintance who owned a truck to bring me a load of cedar slabs discarded by a local sawmill, and I used these to construct two frames, about four feet by six feet, and two even smaller ones, just three feet by four feet. By this time Lynn and I had saved enough money to buy a very old VW bug, so we drove to a nearby creekbank and filled bushel baskets with rich bottom dirt, which we dumped into the frames to make raised beds about four inches deep.

To supplement the tiny growing space, Lynn scavenged large cans from the cafeteria of the hospital where she worked. I painted them a hopeful green, filled them with soil and placed them along the sidewalk below our porch. Old-timey "Corn-row Beans," originally bred to tolerate the shade of cornfields, grew up strings tied to the roof and bore prolifically.

I didn't have much money from my SSI income to spend on garden gadgets, so I made do. I wove a trellis for my peas from six-pack rings liberated from a liquor store trash bin. (I can testify that this plastic never biodegrades—the pea fence survives to this day.) I got some more bushel baskets from the local grocery, painted them with non-toxic preservative and lined them with garbage bags after snipping a few drainage holes in the bottom. Placed around a small stone patio above the garden, these became containers for large plants.

The garden rewarded me before the first mouthful of early spinach was harvested. It moved me out of the gloomy apartment and into the sunshine, watering can in hand. It motivated me to interact with people and to occasionally risk asking for help. I found out they would usually say yes. My attention was now focused on the future, not the bitter, unchangeable past. At night when the flashbacks threatened to roll, when I dreaded the dreams I might have, I put myself to sleep with 45 detailed plans of my next crop rotation. I found out I could learn a major new skill, a little at a time. I could do things right, even come up with ingenious solutions to seemingly impossible difficulties. And when I did things wrong, plants were most often forgiving. The plants themselves were a tremendous source of inspiration. Talk about survivors! They defied every book written about their needs, often thriving with too little sun, too little water, and too little soil. At the end of a year, I could easily stick my shovel in the dirt up to the hilt, where only four inches of top soil had previously existed; compost and the action of the roots had created friable loam out of shale and clay.

When I experienced failure with gardening, it was never the kind of disaster I'd grown to associate with mistakes. We didn't go hungry, because other crops outstripped our expectations. My lover didn't beat or berate me, but sympathized and helped. The garden was important to us economically, because we'd both lost almost everything we owned in our escape. Luckily, in southern Arkansas, it's possible to garden yearround. The garden gave me precious, desperately needed tastes of success. Disabled, unemployed, I still felt like an important contributor to the household. I even had food to give away sometimes, and that was a delicious feeling.

Gardening was not the only factor in my recovery, but it was an important one. I didn't grow up with abuse, but battering and similar traumas can expand minutes into hours, years into decades, until four years feel like most of a lifetime. At the end of a year and a half of gardening, I no longer felt as if I'd spent the majority of my life in a battering situation. Healing had acquired a new definition for me: I didn't insist on having the old me back; I'd mourned her long and well. I accepted the fact that some injuries are too severe to be made whole, that I might never be the same again. But I began to actually like and trust the me I am now, scars and all. As my garden taught me, I must make do with what I am. I have discovered that my flaws are not fatal and my successes are greater than I'd hoped for. So far I have not gone hungry, and I even have something to offer."]

Amy Edgington, Gaining Ground, from Garden Variety Dykes: Lesbian Traditions In Gardening, Herbooks, 1994

#amy edgington #lesbian literature #terra preta #cw abuse #you are a goddamn tree stump with leaves sprouting out

[lilithsrecord]

𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖟𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖑

part 2

♱ 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

outward appearance means nothing if your are unable to carry yourself with grace and confidence. it’s important to radiate an aura that is unique to u and is beautiful and enchanting to others. find your essence. are u an ethereal innocent angel or a bombshell femme fatale? Just by channeling in a sort of character in your demeanour can drastically change how other people view you. you might be wondering “hey this is a bit much just for school,” and ur right but it’s all fun at the end of the day

𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

𝔣𝔢𝔪𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔢:

femme fatale: noun

an attractive and seductive woman, especially one who is likely to cause distress or disaster to a man who becomes involved with her.

"a femme fatale who plays one man off against another in pursuit of money"

a femme fatale is a women who shows power through how well she can toy with a mans brain. in hindsight she might seem like a women catered to the male gaze due to the strong enchantment she has upon men, but do not be fooled. a femme fatale is a strong willed and powerful women who only caters to her own needs. she achieves her goals by seducing her pawns to use them to her own advantage. channeling in the characteristics of a femme fatale can make one feel powerful, sexy, and oh so alluring. to become a femme fatale you must ooze with seduction. femme fatale examples include gilda, from the movie “gilda”, jane smith from “mr. and mrs. smith, and amy dunne from “gone girl”.

feel powerful when you walk from one place to another. let other people stare at you while they feel intrigued by ur allure but never completely give them what they want.

make your appearance look bold and striking. be sexy. dress to show off what other people want for themselves. wear dark and luxurious colours. let your hair be free and voluptuous. a bold lip and sharp eye makeup brings attention to the most seductive parts of your face. a femme fatale is nothing without a striking appearance

have your voice sound like smooth whiskey. speak slow to captivate others. make sure your voice comes out prominent and clear. add a slight rasp into your voice. each word u speak should be carefully chosen. people should be addicted to hearing you speak. be sassy and smart but always with class.

smell expensive. pick a scent that exudes class. examples: black orchid by tom ford. mugler alien. good girl by carolina herrera.

a femme fatale makes sure to always get her way. don’t be afraid to use ur seductive quality’s to get what u want whether that is good grades or social status. [ however do not put urself in dangerous positions. please don’t sleep with a teacher lmao ]

𝔠𝔬𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢

coquette: noun

a woman who flirts.

in my own definition a coquette to me is a girl who is delicate and radiates innocence. she is more commonly known as the girl next door or the pretty girl. people become attracted to this essence due to the childish ways of a coquette. though that sounds concerning, a coquette isn’t a women who tries to act like a child on purpose. she is just a women who is naturally sweet and innocent. they hold onto a childlike quality that the rest of us have lost and so desperately crave. the allure of the coquette is ultimately her adorableness. her demeanour is light hearted and youthful. no one feels the need to do her wrong because she is just too cute for any harm. she is an ingenue. examples of coquettes are lizzy grant, cat valentine from “victorious”, alice cullen from “twilight”, and marilyn monroe.

wear clothes that make u look cute. the coquette aesthetic has been around for quite a while. the main aspect of a coquette outfit is its innocently teasing nature. wear bright colours that compliment ur skin like a blush pink, bright reds, and pretty lilacs. make people around u appreciate ur innocent look but know that there imagination is running wild. the makeup for these looks are more natural and rely on the condition of ur actual skin. take good care of ur skin. have a set routine but remember that it’s completely okay if u have pimples! you can still be a pretty little coquette even with acne.

vanilla or any kind of sweet scents are a staple for the coquette essence. ariana grandes perfumes are perfect for making people mouths water for a sweet snack when u walk by. olympea by paco rabanne is my personal favourite.

be kind and sweet to people who deserve it. people need to see u as a sweet and innocent doll who can do no wrong. but don’t be afraid to be risky and be the complete opposite of that once in a while. the rare moments where u show ur femme fatale side will have people incredibly intrigued by you.

perfect your voice. your voice should sound pleasant like some sort of princess. make your voice sound higher but not ear screeching high. add a beautiful mix of air and softness to ur voice. a breathy voice is incredibly intoxicating and suits the coquette.

𝔭ê𝔩𝔢-𝔪ê𝔩𝔢

pêle-mêle: adverb

in a confused, rushed, or disorderly manner.

also known as the manic pixie dream girl, a pêle-mêle is the essence of a girl who is described as whimsical, eccentric and is quite literal the life of the party. though at first glance she’s all rainbows and sun shine, the shadow side of the pêle-mêle can be described as a tortured artist. her optimism is delightful. she is not afraid to take risks. she’s a mess but people can not help to be intrigued by her free spirited ways for she is a drug to people who crave adventure. examples of a pêle-mêle include ramona flowers from scott pilgrim vs the world, mia wallace from pulp fiction, harley quinn from the DC comics, and holly golighty from breakfast at tiffany’s.

don’t be afraid to take risks. risks and adventure is what the pêle-mêle lives off of. be brave. do things you are afraid to do. start small and work your way up like from riding that roller coaster your so afraid of to having a motorcycle race with your friends (trust me those are so fun!). show people just how daring you can be and immediately people will be magnetized to you.

wear clothes that are unique and you feel comfortable with. the pêle-mêle rejects conformity and the way you appear should reflect that. wear clothes that harmonize with your crazy personality. be daring and bold with your makeup. make sure you stand out from the crowd and that you do not care what people think. the alternative style perfectly suits someone who embodies this essence.

be confident. obviously this rule applies to all the essences but confidence and self love is at the core of the pêle-mêle. you need to show people that you do not care what they think of you and that at the end of the day, you are just here for a good time. the more you practice self love, the easier it will be for you to express yourself without the fear of judgement from others.

be a socialite. don’t be afraid to speak your mind to people. pêle-mêle’s are usually people persons. they love good company that they can go on adventures with. make friends by being your true self and don’t hold yourself back. even a few mishaps by saying the wrong thing from time to time can make people fall in love with your clumsy nature.

obviously there are plenty of other essences you can achieve for yourself but these are my top three favourites. to find out who exactly who you want to become try the few tips listed below!

how to find your personal essence

what kind of people captivate you? what type of personalities do you see that you wish you could be? do you find yourself being envious of the pretty girl next door, the man eater, or the mysterious persona? figure out what kind of a person do u wish to truly become and inherit their manner. find out the characteristic of ur desired essence to the littlest of detail. this can include from the way you walk, talk, eat, sleep, look, smell ext. think of this as becoming your ideal best self. take the female archetype quiz to get a better understanding of your self.

what kind of aesthetic catches your eye? do you enjoy the glamorous high fashion life or do you like the softer cherry coke and heart shaped sunglasses niche? maybe you enjoy completely different things or a blend of a few. live up to this aesthetic. do this by expressing this aesthetic in the way you dress to how u decorate your room.

what kind of environment do you feel the most comfortable in? are you someone who loves education and school? or do you love the idea of being free and living in an RV for the rest of your life? maybe you just want to live in a cozy high rise new york apartment or a huge mansion up in beverly hills. envision where you see your ideal self in 10-20 years. your ideal environment can reveal a lot about what kind of lifestyle choices you want to make.

you might be thinking to yourself hey these aren’t the best tips for school. and at an educational standpoint you’re right. but it’s important to embody your best ideal self to truly enjoy this lifetime. these are little things that can be used to motivate you. i believe that inner self work should be prioritized over your school work though both are important. make sure you are taking some time out of your week to find out more about yourself and who you want to become. be the best you.

#dollette #nymphcore #coquette #lana del ray aka lizzy grant #highschool #backtoschool #lolita #lana del rey #lizzy grant #grunge #soft grunge #lawofattraction #spurituality #advice #pretty

[goofyhoffy]

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook × reader

Genre: romcom

Word count : 3.4 k

Warnings : fluffy, swearing, angst, anxiety attack, smut, kinky, abusive language, mention of hickey, sexual harassment, yandere, love, sex, romance, licking, bullying, misunderstanding, one shot, rudeness, humiliation.

Summary: Gone for the last fairwell party where you meet the nerd kid Jeon Jungkook. The rudest boy who hates the popular kid like you. But then something changed and make you fall for him.

Author note: smoky fanfic for some smoky peeps . Share your opinions.

( ◜‿◝ )♡( ◜‿◝ )♡( ◜‿◝ )♡( ◜‿◝ )♡( ◜‿◝ )♡

"You're not going to attend the fairwell party, _____" your mother said. Tonight there is your first year fairwell party at the restaurant. Everyone is already so excited and planned about tonight. But your heartless abusive mother detains you from going.

"Why, that's so cruel. It's my first college fairwell. Everyone will be there. Let me go." You gasped at your mother. She with her eyes wide open signed you to stop your mouth.

"Be at your room till I come back from our ladies get to together. I'll be late, so close all the door. And be at your room. Don't think of going anywhere. Understood." Your mother shouted and leave the house for the party.

You close the door and shouted at the top of your lungs. You're so annoyed that your abusive mother never let you go anywhere. She's so mean that she goes everywhere without letting you go. But you also know your tricks to go there.  You know  the fairwell party gonna be lit with kids on the bars and restaurant all around. As early as your mom leaves you dressed up in your short silk black dress with your long curly hairs open. Match up with some smokey eyes and pencil heels. Afterall you're the most popular kid there, so you have to go there. But you never want to go cause the people around there are so mean and a bully to others.

Though you never get bullied but you felt bad for others. The better you know that the college guys are the meanest and cruelest. You're also so soft hearted that you fear of speaking up for them. Only for this reason you keep hating other and never went to any of the colleges parties. Even everyone insisted you so much. But today there is a sudden urge to attain the party. Because of your bestie since birth. Because of him you're going to the party. The season last party. Your guts are telling you that something big is gonna be happen with you. Something fun gonna be happen.

You waited at the front door for your bestie to pick you up. You checked the time it's already 9 pm and you need to came back by 2 am or else your mother gonna kill your ass of. It's drizzling outside , soft rains are always your favorite but today you don't have the time to appreciate the nature beauty. But you have to kill the party the fullest. You were just waiting.

"Babyygirl, come on! Get inside this beast." Suga shouted at the high pitch. You glad to see your bestie after waiting for them so long. He along with some other guys ride in a black open Jeep Wrangler. You got astonished to see the big Jeep. You walk upon the Jeep and gulped.

"We're going in this?" You questioned.

"Yes baby, now don't waste your time. And get your ass on this." Suga giggled. You get on that open Jeep. Suga helped you too. The Jeep started and all your hair dances in the air. The moonlight along with drizzling cloud make the sky look beautiful. You're feeling so alluring the whole journey.

When you stepped inside the restaurant,  it was nothing like that. It's filled with smoke and known people faces. Kids are drinking , smoking , dancing and making out. As soon as you step in, the focus shifted to you. Everyone started to making cheers, noise with your name. Some people said "look ___ is looking damn hot." "Her ass! I can die for" "can I fuck her only for today" "she wear this dress to show her big cleavage." And some girls there bitching "why this slut is here?" "God! I thought she died. Now who gonna see me." "I need to cover my boyfriends eyes, or else this whore gonna seduce him."  Everyone is just objectifying you. Only for this reasons you  hate to attain any party. All of them only gonna blame or body shames you.

Hearing all of this you squeezed Suga's hand in shame and murmured "Suga can I go home. This place is not for me." He instantly feels that you're feeling uncomfortable. He grapped your hand and shouted "hey people, look! If anyone gonna open their mouth to spite any bad words to ____. I'm gonna make their college life a hell. So shut the fuck up." Suddenly everyone looks downwards and keep on doing their things. Afterall Suga have hype on the college because he's the captain of the basketball and all of the college kids are afraid of him. This is the perks of having a scary bestie.

"Thanks. Today I'm not gonna interrupt you more. So, now you can have fun. I will also find someone to have fun." You sighed to Suga.

"Shut your thanks, babygirl. I'm always here for you only. If anything happens you can  just call me. I will be here around." He said and walked inside the bar.

Being a popular and good looking girl isn't a great thing. People only notice the worst side of you. You're thinking only this things and make your way to the near by open area on that Place. There's no one. Only you and your loneliness appreciating the cloudy night weather. Even though you have Suga as your bestie,  he also can't always look after you. Apart from him, no one was there as your friends. As you interact really less.

Standing there for so long your eyes trail down to a huge postures sitting down the couch. Black leather jacket, high black boots, smokey black eyes, dark gelled hair with tattooed neck a boy was sitting at the couch. You side eyed at him for a better view. He was drawing something. You peek into the painting you saw it was the soothing sky he was drawing. You again trail your eyes to his full muscular body. But you were unable to see his face as he head downs to draw. You just want to look at his face.

For quite a long there,  he said nothing to you. As only both of you're there you thought of asking him. "It's looking like you're painting this beautiful sky." You asked. The boy looked up to your face. His dark glowing eyes look straight into you. It was a known face too. His baby face isn't matching his devil body postures. You mesmerized to his beauty.  You tell you heart you know him, but never noticed him. He was Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook. The nerd kid who always sits at the last bench but tops the class. Who never spokes to anyone. Who's always so lonely when noticed.

"Yeah. I guess you have eyes." Jungkook scoff. But one thing more he's the rudest. Never in his life he talks to anyone in the straight face. Because of that he never have friends. You rolled your eyes.

"I also have mouth but I guess it's best to shut. People are so mean here." You said.

"Huh! Afterall meanest than me. I'm the one who haven't talk about your tits and ass in the whole room here." Jungkook smirked

"Better for you to not open your mouth. I'm only trying to start a conversation with you politely. But you -" Jungkook intrepputed you.

"Yes, I'm the one who shut your bullying mouth. You popular kids always thought we nerds are piece of shit. But we aren't. We aren't even not care for you to answer back. But see today I did." Jungkook again smirked.

"What? I never bullied anyone. Actually you're mad or anything to start a verbal fight here. Do your shitty work, you're good to be alone. Now, I got it why no ones talk to you." You chuckled devilishly.

"I don't make fake friends like you or I say friends with benefits. Huh!" Jungkook giggled.

"Friends with benefits? What do you mean. You totally ruined my mood. Just fuck your life with this shitty attitude you fucking nerd. I'm good to go." You shouted at him and walks towards the bar.

But suddenly,  Jungkook dropped all his drawing book at the floor and runs towards you and grapped you wrist from the back.

"What do you think? Where you're going? " Jungkook said.

You got confused by his actions. "Wait. Why the fuck you touched me? Get off me." You screamed at him. And he instantly released your hand from his grip.

"Cool, using women card huh. See you soon babe." Jungkook smirked turns to devilishly chuckled.  You just get off from there.

Soon you go inside the bar. Asked the bartender to give you some cocktail. He handed over to you. You sit beside a group of creepy men who were keep staring at your thighs. You were getting super uncomfortable because of  that. They're laughing, talking shit about you and your dress. But the limit crossed when one of guys handed over a page to you.

'One night stand! Money as much as you want.' Your blood started to rush over those guys.

You just want to slap them in the face. You hate how the whole fairwell night is turning into a nightmare for you. You never want to come here. You're cussing Suga for insisting you to come.

You grumbled the paper and through it on there faces. But then one of the guys started to touching you inappropriately around your thighs. You don't know what to do. Your anxiety level is getting on peak. All the men covered you and started touching you inappropriately. Out of fear you just sit like a piece of stone.

But then only Jungkook shouted at the group of men around you. His muscular body fitted his leather jacket perfectly. "You creeps,  just get off from her."

One of them says "who is she? Your si-"  Jungkook intrepputed them.

"Yeah, she's my fucking friend. Get off from her." And he grapped your hand and take you aside.

"Just kept your fucking dicks in your pants. If I ever see anyone of you to humiliating any girl. I will cut your penis off. Understood. Fuck off now." He shouted at them. And all of them just leaves the bar.

You're still in a sense of shock. You never believed this happens with you. Room full of air-conditioned but still you're sweating like crazy. You got your first anxiety attack after certain long. Your hand are trembling and tears down to your eyes. You still sense less what's going on.

"You're okay?" Jungkook asked with his baby voice.

You didn't answer anything. You just hugged Jungkook so hard. Nothing in your mind just you hugging him to get some heat and strength. Tears rolled down your eyes stopped to get his presence. He hugged you back and patted your back smoothly. Slowly the terror lives you.

"It's okay. Don't worry. I'm here. You're save." He said.

"I'm here to get your back. Calm down. Your makeup gonna ruin." He scoffs.

"Keep your mouth open. Or else i- " you cut him off.

"I'm okay. Thanks." You gasped.

"Want to have some fresh air outside?" He asked.

"Let's go. I can't breathe here anymore." I sighed. I grapped his wrist and fetch him to outside.

It was storming outside and slow winds crossing over my face. It felt so soothing to go outside and breathe some fresh air. I looked at Jungkook and felt so guilty for misunderstanding him earlier. His baby face just melts my heart. He's a purely the kindest and most helpful. I still regret why I never talked to him on the first hand. Well, I  always have an eye on him for his tonned body. But the behavior always drive me crazy. The way he looked when he was angry at them. His veins hands with silver rings. And those messy dark hair sooths my heart. I once again fall for his kindness,  generosity and smartness.

"Thanks but sorry." You looked at him.

He gazed at me "nothing to thanks me but take care of yourself. A girl should keep her mouth open for herself. Never depend on anyone else other than yourself. You're your own security. Understood."

"Your words are always so deep. But again sorry." You apologized

"Well, I'm sorry too for being rude. I don't mean to but -" you cut him off.

"But nothing. Just end those shitty things. I really liked how you saved me. I promise that from now onwards I will take care of myself." And you smiled at him.

He caressed my cheeks and smiled too. "I always thought you're mean but I was wrong. You're such a sweetheart."

"I know, people assume mean things about me. But at my surprise you're too a darling. But your words are full of sarcasm just like you." You  said.

He giggled at my words. Then you gazed at his eyes and caress his dark long hairs which was covering his baby face. You touched his hairs. You feel a sudden arousal to find him. He was different and amazing. You realized he have something you are finding since a long. He get stumble too with your touch. He felt like he got goosebumps to your touch.  You both keep staring to each others eyes for so long.

But then Jungkook broke it and scoff "your touch gives me goosebumps. Don't be so touchy or else something wrong gonna happen." And you giggled hard at him.

"Okay, I'll give you space." You scoffs.

As you both walk down to a group of boys having tons of beer. The whole area beside them smells like alcohol. You felt like trying some alcohol.

"Want to try some beer?" You asked him.

"Sure. Let's compete who can have more alcohol in their blood tonight." Jungkook smirked to me.

You both took one can of beer and gulped it at one shot. It was so refreshing and taste weird. But alcohol are meant to be tasteless. Jungkook goes for another one and so do you. You both keep on finishing the beer cans one by one. You're so into the competition that both of you crossed all the limits. Just drinking and laughing. After having enough can beer you were just pretending that you're drinking. But you were fully drunk. The alcohol is all over your body. Your dress got drenched with beer. On the other hand, Jungkook keep on going with the beer. Drinking and drinking but not stopping. He's the actual nerd kid who have a super big competitive ass in anything.

"Stop you dick. I can't drink anymore. You win. Cool!" You screamed in annoyance.

"Winner. Yeah. I knew it. No one can win from me." Jungkook yelled.

You made a annoyance face and said "look at my dress, alcohol is all over my body. It's drenched me. I smell like alcohol."

"Are you telling me to lick the beer from your body! Huh?" Jungkook grinned. He's totally drunk. He lost all his senses and so do you. Both are drunk and alone.

"Would you lick me if I say! Huh?" You giggled.

"Just say and I will lick you all up from head to toe baby." He smirked. And walk up to you and licked your neck.

"Stop it. I'll clean it myself." you pushed him kiddingly and ran towards the washroom to clean all the mess up.

At the water basin, you got some tissues and clean all the mess. From neck to your torso where all the beer spilled. But there also Jungkook followed you from the back.

You suddenly feel someone touched your back. You looked back and realized Jungkook is hugging you from behind. Locking your hands and softly kissing your ears. His warm huge body fits you finely. The alcohol fragrance along with his cologne smells it's so sexy. You don't want to leave him and not either tried to get out of his grip. He makes you so comfortable with his body all over you. That's feels so calming and horny. You want him to eat you.

"I said I'll lick you clean. You don't need to clean yourself." Jungkook softly said.

He then smoothly take your open hair aside and kissed your neck. It's feels like you're the last person to eat in this planet. He spins you and now you're facing him. He's so close to your face, you can feel his hot alcoholic breath on your face. He kissed you again all over your neck and beyond leaving some purple marks on your fine white body.

"Don't you want to clean by me! Huh?" Jungkook smirked.

"I-I yes, I want." You said in a shaky voice.

He hovered over you with his lips. Licking neck to chin and then he stopped. He looked into your deep pale eyes. You meet his eyes. His eyes speaking that he will made you watch the heavenly stars today. Without any second thought he kissed you in lips. You deepens the kiss with your tongue into him. His pink juicy lips taste so fine.  He bit you on your upper lips which make it more loving. Then his one hand goes under my dress while the other is still there to deepens your lips. You put your hands on his long dark gelled hair. You both are caressing each other. Deep moans under Neath the breath was changed. Before going out of breath you broke the kiss and you both breathed so heavily.

He lifted you on the top of the water basin of the washroom and touched your inner thigh. A little moans let out from your mouth. His cold long fingers when touched your warm fizzy thighs it's giving you thrills. You spread your long legs further directing him to devour you inside. The hot make out already make you so wet that you can't resist. He pulled the hem of your dress and looks at the most beautiful site at that time. His eyes were glowing to meet with your small pussy.

"You want?" Jungkook asked me before putting his hands further.

"I want you to fuck me. Made me see the stars tonight." You softly screamed.

Jungkook getting the signal to proceed he touched your wet pussy over the panties. But the panties are already drenched of your cum. He gulped and smirked leaving your panty at the floor. He tilted you aside and thrust two of his finger inside of you. His cold veiny long fingers when get inside you, it gives you thrills. You moan his name. He gently thrust each of the finger inward. You already can see the stars.

"Jun-Jungkook!" You moans

"You want more?" Jungkook asked.

"Jun-Jungkook. Yeah. I want you to be inside." You screamed in pleasure.

He gently keeps on going with his fingers all the way. You lift up and you can see the budge on Jungkook jeans. You unlock his belt and put his jeans off. His big member is already waiting for you. Your eyes glowed up to see his big huge dick. You stroke it and it's already having a Boner. Jungkook stops and looked at your eyes.

"Are you sure that you can take my member inside you! Huh?" He smirked.

"Can't wait more to have you inside me. I want your fucking dick to tear my fragile pussy." You growned.

"Then let's just fuck you, ______" Jungkook moans.

You spread your legs further and he put his tip of the cock inside you. He's teasing you but then you thrust him in. His huge cock perfectly fits your pussy. He started to thrust fast and fast. He's moaning your name at high pitch. And you want him more and more. His hips are thrusting hard into you. You see all the colours of the stars. Jungkook made you realize the pleasure. It's get so heated that at last he thrust your g spot. You feel relieved.

"I'm going to cum, Kook." You said.

"I want you to cum on my fucking dick!" He exclaimed.

You cumed in his dick and all over his shirt. Your white liquid is all over the place. He smirked and gently took you off the water basin.

"Did I licked you well, ____?" Jungkook murmured.

"Yeah, I want you to lick me every day, Jungkook." You said softly.

He gently put your clothes on and you wear them. He also did the same. And he kissed your forehead and patted with love.

#bts fic #bts ff #bts fanfic #fanfiction bts #bts fanclub #jungkook layouts #jungkook fanfic #jungkook mafia au #jungkook icons #jungkook smut #jungkook sexy #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook yandere #jungkook hot #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook moodboard #did i licked you well #jungkook × reader #kookie #love you <3 #smoky smut #bts #bts army #kpopidol #kpop #bangtan army #bangtan #aesthetic #bts smut

[shijiujun]

[END 2020] My Top 9 Danmei Novel Picks of the Year

As a part of my Round Up post for the year, here’s my pick of favourite danmei novels, that I’ve read! This is sort of an accompaniment to my previous danmei rec list over HERE, so there may be one or two overlaps, but I’ve read WAY MORE after that and am prepared to like give more options here 

Note: There should be English translations for all via novel updates if you do a search of the English name, but I don’t think most of them are completed.

If you wanna see my full reading and queue list (it’s all in Chinese tho, for my own records), it’s here.

I’m leaving out the usual MXTX and Priest ones, because they’re already good and we all know that and there’re many carrds and posts dedicated to them.

I am also a sucker for fainting but smart men, and not too overly angsty/complicated storylines, just putting it out there first, which is why I haven’t read a lot of some of the ones on my queue list.

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1. 一剑霜寒 | A Sword of Frost by 语笑阑珊

Summary: Jing Yan Ran is the Emperor’s brother and wields military power in the novel, and it starts with an object being stolen from the palace. Jing Yan Ran has to retrieve the item secretly, and so enlists the help of Feng Yu Sect’s Sect Master, Yun Yi Feng, who heads the martial arts world’s one and only information trading post. Yun Yi Feng does not deal in business that involves any royalty, but Jing Yan Ran offers him something he cannot refuse - the Blood Red Lingzhi, a rare and mystical herb that is rumoured to be able to treat his life-threatening condition. 

Yun Yi Feng was used by his shifu when he was younger to test out all kinds of poisons and cures, and since then, his body flushes dangerously hot and cold frequently, with bouts of severe coughing fits in between. Throughout the first mission where he spends time with Jing Yan Ran searching for the stolen object, he allows Jing Yan Ran to take care of him, and they fall in LURVE pretty much like 10 chapters in.

Of course, they have to uncover a plot and conspiracy against their enemies who are plotting to dethrone the Emperor, and also reveal the secrets of Yun Yi Feng’s birth.

My Thoughts: AN ABSOLUTE FAVE AND GEM, I’d say this is my favourite danmei novel ever. This is both hilarious and tears-inducing, to be honest, because for most of the novel YYF knows he doesn’t have long to live and so in the beginning he knows of his own feelings for JYR and JYR also shows him that he loves him, but he is unable to officially reciprocate because he knows his body is like weakening day by day. Halfway through the fear that he’s literally about to die as they are JUST about to find the cure is real, and damn I cried so much at that. Some highlights:

YYF falls asleep very easily in baths and everywhere actually, and pretty much within the first 10 chapters he gets used to JYR carrying him around (even naked from the bath, he’s like oh well, okay cool) and taking care of him, and JYR ALWAYS makes sure he is warm and toasty under his cape

YYF LOVESSSS RICHES, PLAYING THE ZITHER AND COOKING - He’s good at gathering the first one, but he FUCKING SUCKS AS THE LAST TWO - It’s so funny because he’s so beautiful and handsome right, and when he sits down at the zither everyone is like OH DAMN WHAT A DREAM- and then he plays, and everyone’s fantasies is shattered, he’s ABYSMAL at it, and the same goes for cooking

JYR doesn’t actually have the Blood Red Lingzhi, and throughout the first arc, he feels SO DAMN GUILTY because YYF even carved out a pendant that looks like what he thinks the herb looks like, and like carries it with him everywhere LMAO

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Bilibili

2. 高能二维码 | High Energy QR Code by 青色羽翼

Summary: CEO Xing Ye’s brother Xing Shuo has just passed away at the age of 24, and nothing will make him believe that Xing Shuo died of natural causes despite autopsies and experts telling him that he really died simply of a heart failure. Xing Ye, who has impeccable memory, suddenly recalls the last time he saw Xing Shuo. His brother called out to him just before Xing Ye left for a business trip, and looked as if he had something to say, but ended up just wishing him a safe trip.

At that moment, there was a QR code on Xing Shuo’s phone, and the phone screen was strangely turned out towards Xing Ye, and Xing Ye, with his incredibly high IQ and memory, realizes that Xing Shuo wanted him to see the QR code. Quickly, he reproduces the QR code by pen and then scans it, and finds himself in a game world.

There he meets a narcissistic but also cute mirror which can speak, and finds out later that his name is Lu Ming Ze. Xing Ye’s mission is to clear the game missions in each round that is set by the black and white cubic game system, a system that continuously tempts its players into giving in to committing sins such as killing someone else, stealing and other things. He soon realizes that if he cannot stay on a path clear of these sins, he will never be able to triumph over the game system and return Lu Ming Ze back to his body in the real world. 

At the same time, he gains new teammates and friends for life, and also finds out what role his brother played in this game. 

My Thoughts: MY GOD I LOVE THIS. I LITERALLY JUST FINISHED READING THIS YESTERDAY, and honestly it’s one of my faves. I don’t like game systems very often (I’ve read three others so far, and this, and KOD are the only ones I’ve liked) but this one is *chef’s kiss*. So LMZ was born like with a really handsome face, like SUPER HANDSOME, and that’s why he’s like a harmless narcissist that cannot bear to look at ugly things LMAO, but he’s not spoilt, he makes sure that Xing Ye stays true to himself, and help him keep his head clear. 

THE ONLY THING ABOUT THIS FRICKIN NOVEL IS THAT LU MING ZE STAYS A MIRROR, LIKE DIFFERENT KINDS OF MIRRORS, in the first TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY CHAPTERS. I KID YOU NOT. I FRICKIN KID YOU NOT. I swear I was sooo touched starved at the end of the novel, because they couldn’t even kiss?!! Like Xing Ye kisses the mirror, and then uses his thumbs to like hi-five mini LMZ in the mirror back, they can’t even hug. Do you know how empty my arms felt when I read this book?!! And my arms have never been filled!!!!!!

I really like this one because each game world is set up in such a brilliant way, but it’s not so unnecessarily complex that you literally don’t know what the fuck is going on. Xing Ye’s intelligence as he outmanoeuvres every single one of his enemies and convinces his would-be loyal teammates to trust him is so satisfying, world after world, victory after victory.

Humour is also absolutely ON POINT. A lot of it is centred on Xing Ye getting caught in the real world kissing his handheld mirror (LMZ) by LMZ’s parents (who cannot see him in the mirror) and LMZ’s parents going like ???!!!!!!!! 

Available: Novel Online | Physical Novel is coming out on 10 Dec (freebies are, you guessed it, a mirror)

3. 妻为上 | The Wife is First by 绿野千鹤

Summary: This is set in a historical setting where men can marry other men, but it’s usually reserved for sons who were not borne by the official main first wife of the patriarch of the family, i.e. a son born by a concubine in a family may be forced to marry a man to keep him from being able to become the next family’s patriarch for example. This is because any family’s next leader needs to be able to have children with a wife who married in as a zheng shi (lawful wife), and not a ce shi (second wife) or any other concubines/mistresses etc. Most of these men who marry other men have to take them as their zheng shi and lawful spouse in a sense, and the same goes for the royal family.

The story starts with third prince Jing Shao, who was forced to marry Mu Han Zhang, a Marquis’ second son, by the Empress and Emperor, thereby officially and effectively cutting him out of the race for the throne. He’s mocked by the public as everyone knows what this means, and for the next 10 years, he neglects Mu Han Zhang, blaming him for his predicament, and deliberately showers his three other concubines with affection in front of him, but 10 years later, when Jing Shao is accused of treason, everyone leaves him except for Mu Han Zhang. They are chased to the edge of the cliff by soldiers, and Mu Han Zhang dies in his arms having taken an arrow meant for him earlier, and Jing Shao jumps off the cliff with his dead body, and promises that if there’s a next life, he will do everything Han Zhang says, and love him.

He wakes up immediately on the night of his marriage with Han Zhang, and realizes that he’s been given a second chance to make everything right. Han Zhang is definitely afraid of him, humiliated and angry when he first wakes up after how rough Jing Shao was with him earlier on their wedding night, and he has no memories of their past life. Jing Shao then sets to SHOWER HAN ZHANG with affection, love and basically everything, because he realized that this is the only person who stayed by his side until the end, and then he falls in love with Han Zhang properly this time, and also deals with every single person who maligned and schemed against him in his previous life, with Han Zhang by his side.

My Thoughts: OKAY BEFORE YALL GO INTO THE ‘WIFE’ terminology discourse and everything, in this case they do use the term ‘wife’ literally, and it’s a position, that while men frequently fall into (there are a lot of male ‘wives’ in this story), is also used to cut off like sons from inheriting the family and the fortune, and even titles. Male ‘wives’ aren’t looked down upon in this setting, in fact, Han Zhang gets a lot of leeway as one, and in his case he was also able to rise up the ranks to be an actual official later on, but the sad thing comes from sons who are most of the time forced to marry a male ‘wife’ for whatever reason, and then they are neglected as the son goes and find concubines, women he actually wants to sleep with - this is sad af yall. I don’t know, on one hand, yay for equality in marriage in this setting, but on the other hand like, damn, must you use same-sex marriage like that argh.

ANYWAY THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVES TOO?!!! I mean, especially when Jing Shao literally just goes into doting mode 200% and Han Zhang is totally like wtf why is he so nice to me is he scheming or something? And then he realizes that Jing Shao is really, really gentle towards him despite his reputation as a cruel, dark military commander, and Jing Shao always smiles at him. In any situation, especially in the beginning, when Han Zhang thought Jing Shao would not stand with him, Jing Shao literally just protects him no matter what, gives him everything, and cries, I love it. 

Especially because Han Zhang is the son of a concubine and he was bullied a lot in the Mu family, and the official Lady Mu married him off to Jing Shao in hopes that he would be unhappy for the rest of his life, and I suppose that came true in the first life, but in the second, Han Zhang gets all the love, respect and support he never got before in this family with Jing Shao and that makes me WEEP.

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Kuaikan

4. 死亡万花筒 Kaleidoscope of Death by 西子绪

OOOH I intro-ed KOD here in my previous rec list. Still one of my faves and all-time re-reads, especially under the covers in the dark hehehe.

5. 你的距离 | Your Distance by 公子优 

Summary: Ting Shuang is a student at a German university, and has this handsome professor Bai Chang Yi who he swears kind of hates him. He’s just broken up with his longtime boyfriend, and then goes on this dating app that matches a profile with him based on distance. The app can also show the matched profile’s distance from him once they enter the same area, and Ting Shuang starts chatting with this Chinese guy on the app, who he finds out later, is 36 years old, 187cm in height and wears glasses. 

The guy is a little aloof and cool, very mature in his replies on the app, and somehow Bai Chang Yi finds out who he is later, as Ting Shuang starts complaining to him about his professor to Bai Chang Yi. Instead of getting angry and offended, BCY is pretty much amused and finds Ting Shuang cute. A few days later Ting Shuang finally realizes who it is he’s been texting, and after getting past the initial embarrassment and fear, they start dating for real, and they really fall in love!!!!! 

My Thoughts: This is sweet and also hilarious af, if you need to like satisfy your sweet tooth, this is definitely one for you. It’s really funny because Bai Chang Yi runs in the same circles as Ting Shuang’s dad, who he’s estranged from because the dad doesn’t want to recognize a son who is gay, and then BCY convinces him later in the funniest of ways, and there’s a small subplot at the end in which Ting Shuang is pretty cool, and yep, short and sweet! BCY in the manhua is handsome af too guys ;-;

Available: Novel Online, Audio Drama on Maoer FM and Manhua on Bilibili, 

6. 神木挠不尽 The White Cat’s Divine Scratching Post by 绿野千鹤

Summary: Mo Tian Liao, a weapons forger and master who ruled the Demon Tribe, was hunted down and killed by other righteous sects in the region when he managed to forge an incredibly destructive weapon that could end the world. Before he died, he placed the only thing he loved, a white cat, into a hole in the tree behind him to protect it. The only thing he was grateful for was that he did not create a blood pact with the cat, Xiao Mao, because if he had done so, when he died, Xiao Mao would have died along with him as well.

Right before he dies, unbeknownst to him, Xiao Mao who is no simple demonic cat, wraps part of his consciousness around Mo Tian Liao, and MTL’s spirit ends up floating about for 300 years, until he finds a suitable time to return with a body made out of a special tree and its wood. The first thing he does, of course, is to find his white cat, but he’s poor, and the body he has isn’t powerful, so he joins Wo Yun Sect, the only sect that did not hunt him down that day hundreds of years ago.

There, he is chosen by Qing Tong shizun to be his direct disciple, much to the astonishment of other shizuns in the sect, and Qing Tong’s shixiongs. MTL has never seen a person as beautiful and gorgeous as his shizun, and if only he could find that cat (who’s actually his shizun, who recognizes him and protects him, even if MTL doesn’t actually need much protection).

My Thoughts: This was hilarious as well, and so romantic?!!! Qing Tong/Xiao Mao waited for MTL to come back, and the moment he came back, Qing Tong was there ready to grab him, and then before he went to sleep that night, Qing Tong thought to himself, “I’ve gotten my person back, I can sleep well now” and AHHHHH at this point they weren’t even like a couple yet? MTL ‘kidnapped’ Qing Tong when he was a young demon cat by accident because he likes pretty things (like his shizun lmao) and Qing Tong is attached to him because MTL never forced a blood pact on him, and gave him everything he wanted as a younger cat before MTL died. Gosh, a mirror in #2 and then a cat now with this one. XD

Available: Novel Online

7. 破云 | Breaking the Clouds by 淮上

Summary: Three years ago, Captain Jiang Ting and his team of the Narcotics division perished in an explosion due to a wrong call of his, and he returns three years later under a new identity ready to deal with the people who set him and his team up. He’s caught in what seems to be a simple murder case almost immediately and meets Yan Xie, who’s Vice Captain and in charge of this case. Yan Xie realizes who Jiang Ting is shortly after, and begins to unravel the huge mystery surrounding the events of three years ago, and falls in love with Jiang Ting along the way as well.

My Thoughts: Okay out of the FOUR crime/detective/thriller danmei novels I’ve read, the poyun and tunhai (below) series is the one that MIRRORS actual narcotics division and undercovers the best. It has the complexity and depth of the drugs/narcotics world, and both this one and its sequel focuses a lot on the position of an undercover and mole. I liked this one a lot because there are SOOOO many twists especially in the last arc, like you honestly won’t see any of them coming until it hits you? And Yan Xie is such a confident, rich-ass narcissist, and he keeps asking Jiang Ting if he can “just touch” him ONCE lmao, he’s thick-skinned af, but that’s why he and Jiang Ting are so compatible ;-;.

Available: Novel Online, Novel Print, Audio Drama and Manhua on Bilibili

8. 吞海 | Swallowing the Sea by 淮上

Summary: Sequel to Po Yun. Yu Wu is a young-looking new detective under Captain Bu Chong Hua’s narcotics team. Bu Chong Hua is Yan Xie’s cousin by actual relation, but brother in relationship because BCH’s parents died early and Yan Xie’s parents have been taking care of him mostly. He cannot stand Yu Wu, who seems to want to coast through at work and keep to a 9-5 work schedule. 

It’s only after an altercation and Yu Wu dumping his nonchalant facade to snarl at BCH that he realizes that YW is actually more interesting and mysterious than he thought, and he begins to try to get close to him, understand him. It turns out that Yu Wu is a famous undercover who nearly died a year ago during an operation, and due to various reasons, he was assigned to BCH’s team by higher ups so he can peacefully live the rest of his life out there. However, his past catches up with him quickly, and his enemies turning up forces him to rely on BCH. 

With BCH, Yu Wu’s resentment of having to be an undercover in the past and being so easily discarded by his team’s leaders, and of him being forced to be in the shadows while others can announce their achievements to the world, is slowly erased, because BCH sees him, knows him, and understands him more than anyone else.

My Thoughts: I actually liked this one better than the first one - Yu Wu is such a pouty, angry little thing?! And for good reason (there’s a bit of cannibalism in the book, not by choice when he was younger and in a poor village in Cambodia, where some militants forced survivors in the village to eat the meat of boiled corpses of other villagers, so YW is a vegetarian, like if he eats meat he gets really sick) and the twists here are even more amazing?! BCH really, really, devotes himself to YW the moment he realizes how much he likes him, doing a 180 degree turn. Instead of Yan Xie’s flamboyance, BCH is much steadier, grouchy, like an old uncle, but also looks at things even more clearly than Yan Xie does sometimes. Yu Wu is understandably bitter about what he had to go through, and BCH is the ONLY person who can calm him down, whom he listens to, which I LOVE. Some highlights:

Yu Wu grew up in a poor village and thus loves money, and he fights in underground betting rings to earn more money - The stash of hidden money he collects I think is half for his escape money, but if he happens to never need it, his dream is to donate the money to his village so they can open up a school there - ANYWAY because Yan Xie’s parents, and technically BCH’s ‘parents’ are soooooo rich right, Yan Xie’s mom shows her approval to her son-in-laws (Jiang Ting first, then Yu Wu), by giving them winter pants. It’s kind of like inside warmers, and usually meant for older ladies to wear LOLOL so Yu Wu was like staring at the pants when he finally got them and looked soooo reluctant until Jiang Ting told him it costs $6,000 AND HE WAS LIKE :333333 okie

He acts a lot like a kid?!! He likes eating like some snack but it’s really unhealthy for him, and BCH the mother hen keeps catching him in weird places like the toilet, where he’s hiding from BCH so he can eat his fave snack?! And the whole police station knows not to give YW what he wants in terms of snacks and smokes because once BCH finds out, he makes life very difficult for them HAHAHAHA

9. 穿成反派如何活命 | How to Survive as A Villain by 伊依以翼

Summary: Rich and handsome CEO Xiao Yu An finds out he has a terminal illness (cancer), and dies while he’s reading this online novel, where a king mistreats the crown prince from a neighbouring state which sent him over as hostage after losing a war, and ends up being killed by the crown prince years later (SVSSS much?!). He wakes up AS THE KING, and afraid of dying, he immediately goes about befriending the prince, Yan He Qing. Yan He Qing falls in love with Xiao Yu An while being his friend/hostage/bodyguard, and Xiao Yu An tries to avoid all the deaths he read in the book, while making sure Yan He Qing manages to find his three/four wives, including Xiao Yu An’s sister.

Of course, because Xiao Yu An showed him warmth and kindness, Yan He Qing ends up falling for him instead, and Xiao Yu An is an absolute oblivious idiot because he REALLY doesn’t realize until much later. Yan He Qing ends up declaring war on Xiao Yu An’s kingdom because he is duty bound to do so, but doesn’t hurt Xiao Yu An, wanting to keep him by his side, but YHQ’s scheming uncle drives a wedge between them, and XYA leaves, breaking YHQ’s heart.

They meet again a few years later, where XYA is training to be a physician in a small village and chances upon a severely injured YHQ. There, he realizes that it was all a misunderstanding, and that YHQ actually LIKES, LIKES him, but before they can enjoy this short period of happiness, disaster strikes again.

My Thoughts: THIS WAS really enjoyable, and with the manhua visuals, it is *chef’s kiss*. I think this transmigration version actually delved into the part where XYA is unable to change everything, and if he saves one person, someone else is destined to die, and that moral dilemma devastates him a lot. In this novel he actually transmigrates TWICE, once into the king’s body, and the second time into a neighbouring state’s prince/king’s body, who looks exactly like his modern self after. YHQ is real sweet to him istg, and I like that the epilogues are SUPER EXTENSIVE, including an arc where YHQ and XYA transmigrate back to the real world and everyone who died is alive and close to them, and gets their happy ending ;-;

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Bilibili

#danmei rec list #stebeee recs #a sword of frost #your distance #swallowing the sea #breaking the clouds #kaleidoscope of death #High Energy QR Code #How to Survive as A Villain #The White Cat’s Divine Scratching Post

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Wounded Love Pt. 2 (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T? Maybe? Almost the exact opposite of the first one. Language, minor violence Genre: Fluff, mainly, with admittedly a little bit of humor? I blame my lack of sleep. And my adhd. Warnings: Implied cannibalism adjacent activities because guess what honey, this is a fucked up family, what do you expect of me??? Sure, they have breakfast in this, there's cute stuff, but c'mon, they don't eat flowers and oatmeal! Notes: Doubt it needs to be said, but this is a sequel to the good ending of part one. Also Cass has one line in this that might be OOC, or seem oddly placed, but admittedly this chapter is also loosely based on a dream I had, and I couldn't not include the few direct quotations I remembered, and she seemed the most likely to say the line. And yes, there will be a part 3, because I am weak and also kind of maybe made this one less plot-moving than intended.

{Wounded Love: The re-woundening}

Every step ached more than the last, even with Alcina supporting you. She had wanted to carry you down the stairs, of course, but you had insisted that you would be fine. Now you were just determined not to complain out loud. One yelp or cry and you’d be scooped up in her arms, surely to be carried for the rest of the day. As much as you appreciated your girlfriend’s assistance, you hated feeling useless, and hated putting a burden on others. So here you were, one arm wrapped around Alcina’s waist, limping ever-so-slowly towards the dining room.

Further ahead (unburdened by your injury) the three Dimitrescu daughters talk among themselves, voices hushed as they too headed for breakfast. It was odd to see them all awake, and socializing, as there was usually at least one who came to meals late. You couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with your condition… or the circumstances that had caused it.

Less than eighteen hours had passed since your fight with a stray lycan, and tension had been high since. While you hadn’t yet spoken to the sisters, you had spoken to Alcina, who had briefly mentioned their concern for you. Whether they actually cared about you as a person or just cared because you are dating their mother is unclear. Based on how they had acted while treating your wounds, though, you were inclined to think that they were fond of you. And seeing as Alcina had already vowed to get revenge on your behalf… well, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that her daughters intended to assist.

“Careful on the last step, dear,” Alcina says, positioned as to catch you if you fell. It takes a little willpower to resist the urge to hop down the rest of the way. As long as you landed on your uninjured leg, it wouldn’t even be that bad. Still, irritating your girlfriend first thing in the morning felt like a pretty stupid thing to do. Instead you just nodded, slowing down even more, and took visible care not to trip. “Good girl.”

Well, you certainly couldn’t say that being careful didn’t have its rewards.

“I have my moments,” you replied, blush rising to your cheeks. Suddenly your pain didn’t feel so bad (at least until you took another step and winced). “Damn, who woulda thought that cutting a chunk out of my leg would make it hurt more?” The leg in question throbbed in pain, as if to prove your point, protesting the weight you put on it. Changing the angle at which you stood helped some, allowing the lower half of the limb to bear more of the burden.

“Dearest…” Alcina starts to say, looking like she was going to readdress her desire to carry you. For a moment you try to avoid her gaze, but she moves in front of you, making sure that you could still hold onto her for support. “I know how you feel, how you want, desperately, to be independent. When I was first… granted this gift, it took a long time to adjust. There was so much I had to relearn how to do, so much that I suddenly needed done for me.” A pause, a deep breath. At last you look up at your girlfriend, warmth in your heart, reaching out to hold her hand. “You have time, my dear, and plenty of it. More than that… this will not last forever. The more you push yourself, the longer your recovery will take. Now, please, allow me to assist. You have already proven how strong you are.”

“Oh, you drive a hard bargain… but if you insist, who am I to decline? Or, well, who am I to decline twice in a row?” You answer, somewhat begrudgingly. It wasn’t much farther to the dining room, you figured, so it wouldn’t be much of a loss to accept help. Or at least that was what you told yourself. Even with Alcina’s encouragement it was so hard for you to accept her help. After all, you were the one that worked for her. Never mind the fact that she was somewhat responsible for your injury- really, you were actively avoiding thinking about that.

It’s much easier to forget once Alcina carefully picks you up. One arm goes under your legs, the other under your chest, lifting you without any effort. You might as well have been a kitten or a child’s toy. The movement does, however, shift your injured leg in such a way that it aches. At this point you can hardly move the limb at all without it hurting, and even the slightest friction against the bandage makes your eyes water.

Apparently someone would be delivering some painkillers later in the day. You assumed it would be The Duke (whose name is apparently not Doug, as you had thought), seeing as he knew some special way to get to and fro without risking the same fate that had befallen you. Which, of course, made you feel a lot better. Getting someone else hurt would weigh on your mind forever.

Regardless, you were safe now, as was your strange, bloody little family. Before long you would even be enjoying a pleasant meal together. Certainly that would help get your mind off of your wound? For now, though, you were met with an unexpected impasse. The sort of impasse that really, really should have been expected.

“Why… is the doorway… so small?” You asked, jokingly, as you stare into the mildly embarrassed face of your girlfriend. It’s already hard enough for her to crouch through the gap normally. When she’s carrying you? Impossible. “Can we ask Mother Miranda for bigger doors? She gave you eternal life and also three kids, she’s gotta be capable of making bigger doors. Put me down, I’ll go call her and-”

“That won’t be necessary, dear,” Alcina cuts you off, not fully appreciating this part of your humor. Or maybe she had already asked for bigger doors, only to be told no?... Okay, yeah, it was probably the first option. With a sigh she sets you down, as gently as she can manage. Ready and raring to go, you start to hobble forward, only to find all three of the daughters waiting for you, just beyond the door. They’re grinning as they watch you, and Bela extended her arm to offer her help. “What appears to be the matter?” Alcina asks from behind you. Accepting your fate and Bela’s arm, you let the sisters guide you to the table, Cassandra holding your other side, and Daniela pulls your chair out for you. Honestly it’s pretty adorable. Evidently your girlfriend agrees, from the way she smiles as she follows.

“Thank you,” you say, more out of reflex than genuine gratitude. Again, you weren’t thrilled about needing this assistance. If the girls notice they’re at least polite enough not to mention it. They simply move to their own seats at the large table, eager to dig in. It feels… strange, to be here, on this side of things. Stranger still to realize you’re the only one intending to eat actual food. There’s wine in your glass, but it’s a much fainter red than those you’ve previously served to your girlfriend. Thank goodness, you think, after how raw my throat was yesterday, I really don’t need to taste any more blood.

Once Lady Dimitrescu sits down, the meal formally begins, with several maidens appearing from the kitchen. Several seem relieved to see you, although surprised, and one even gave you a brief smile. The smile did not last, however. It wasn’t unexpected, considering the nature of her job, the pressures that it put upon her. No one smiled at mealtimes. Well, no maidens, that is. They simply moved around, wordlessly, faces blank, doing exactly as instructed. Only a few days ago you had been among them, fear keeping you in line. Was it wrong of you to care for Alcina, knowing what she was capable of doing to others? Knowing what she might have, in another life, done to you?

A maiden places a plate of warm food, as well as a bowl of fresh fruit, in front of you. For a moment your eyes meet, but she looks away instinctively. Your heart threatens to break.

“This looks wonderful, thank you for your hard work, all of you,” you speak up, glancing at each of the women working so hard. There’s more you want to say that dries in your throat; you are valued, you are deserving, someday I will join your ranks again.

“You don’t need to thank them, they’re just doing their jobs,” Cassandra chimes from the other side of the table. Hearing her say that damn near makes you drop your fork. It’s not an uncommon settlement, particularly among older generations and the rich, but one that irks you nonetheless.

“They’re doing my job. They are taking on extra work, for no pay, because I am injured. Why would I be so cruel as to ignore them? Have I not toiled alongside them enough to call them my kin?” You ask, struggling to keep your voice even. Next to you Alcina is slowly cutting into her meat, watching the scene unfold out of the corner of her eyes, perhaps considering when to step in. On the other end of the table, Bela looks increasingly uncomfortable, as if silently willing her sister into silence. None of the maidens have reacted to what you said, likely too afraid of Cassandra to even consider speaking.

“Ooooh, this is much more fun than our usual breakfasts,” Daniela says, stifling a giggle. “Do you have any other thoughts you’d like to share? Preferably ones that aren’t about me.” At this, Alcina sets her utensils down, clearly intending to put an end to the discussion. Unfortunately for her, you were a bit… impulsive, especially considering the previous night’s activities had left your mind struggling to cope.

“Dead lycans smell terrible. Literally the worst thing I’ve ever smelled, easily, no question about it,” you answer, shrugging a little as you do. It’s such a simple thought that you almost don’t realize how the others at the table react. Until the clatter of silverware on the table catches your attention, that is. All three sisters are eying you with different expressions (Bela is confused, Cass is impressed, and Daniela looks shocked). But it’s Alcina’s wide-eyed stare that gets you to elaborate. “Should I have said ‘a dead lycan’? I only got one, so I guess I shouldn’t say they all smell bad. C’mon, though, they have to all smell bad, right?”

Suddenly Daniela shifts from shock to pure amusement, a fit of giggles overtaking her. You’re still confused, not sure what the matter was, so you just sip your wine and hope someone asks the right questions.

“You… killed the lycan that attacked you?” Bela finally says, after a few moments of her sister laughing, expression still incredulous. When you nod she sort of shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “May I ask how you managed that?”

“Oh, you know, I just meh meh-” you mime a stabbing motion with your fork- “until the stupid thing stopped moving. I had to use a tree branch as a weapon, but then it broke after a few whacks, which actually helped because then I had two stabbing implements to, you know, stab with. That’s right around when it got my leg, and it tried to bite me. Thankfully it wasn’t very smart, so when it leapt at me I just hyah-” this time an upwards strike- “right into its neck. That didn’t kill it, but it was enough to slow it down, which allowed me to stab the other half of the branch into its skull. Made this horrible, horrible sound as it died. Seeing as we are eating, I will not imitate the sound. Not that I could, now that I think about it…”

Once again there’s silence. Even Daniela has quieted now, and is watching you with rapt interest, likely hoping that you’re hiding another story up your sleeves.

“So… did you guys actually think that I managed to run away from the lycan? Or were you under the impression that it simply got bored of me and left?” You ask, casually returning to your breakfast afterwards. No one says anything, at first, taking in your words as best as they can. A few moments later both Daniela and Bela resume their meal, as nonchalant as one could be in the current situation. Alcina, however, rests a gentle hand on your shoulder, meeting your gaze with a loving look.

“You will never cease to amaze me, my dear. But let us ensure you never have to… smell, or see, one of those wretched things again, yes?” She says, softly squeezing you as she does. You can’t help but agree, and nod eagerly, mouth too full of hashbrowns to speak. Still, there’s been a shift in the atmosphere of the room. It’s not that the family didn’t respect you before, as far as you can tell, but they evidently hadn’t expected you to prove as capable as you had. It brings a sense of pride to the forefront of your mind, making you completely forget about your injury for the remainder of the meal.

Unable to stop yourself, you insist on helping the other maidens clean up, and Alcina eventually agrees to let you wash a few dishes- as long as you stay sitting the entire time. The last thing you hear before you shuffle off to the kitchen is the start of a conversation between Cassandra and her mother.

“You picked quite a feisty one, didn’t you?”

“That I did, that I did…”

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #ya boy is a simp and also technically not a boy #i am ill defined and like it #please appreciate this #if you put nice things in the tags I WILL read it #and I WILL love you for it

[n1kolaiz]

"You want to know what death is? I'll tell you. Death is the loss of life. Despite everything doctors like me attempt... a patient's life can still fall through our fingers. You think death lies in the apex of science? Anyone with such little regard for life will die by my hand."

Character Analysis: Yosano Akiko

Age: 25 || Ability: Thou Shalt Not Die

BSD CHAPTER CHAPTER 65-66 SPOILERS

table of contents:

1. Author counterpart.

2. Yosano's history.

3. 'Angel of Death' defined.

4. Yosano and Atsushi.

YOSANO BRAINROT!*(#&!*@#($

1. Author counterpart.

Having been given the “Sho Ho” at birth, Yosano Akiko’s counterpart—the real-life author—was known for her zealous take on both feminism and pacifism.

Side note: Once again, to avoid confusion, I will use the name Sho Ho in reference to the real-life author, and Yosano in reference to the BSD character.

Sho Ho's writings were pretty much out-of-the-ordinary in her time, and despite being suppressed by the social norms of gender hierarchy, she sought to reform society’s view on the cultural perspectives of women and their sexuality (She expressed her love for a woman in one of her poems, but many still argued on whether she identified herself as queer or not.)

"Thou Shalt Not Die," Yosano's ability, is actually named after one of Sho Ho's most famous, controversial poems. She wrote it for her brother, who was a soldier in the war between Russia and Japan (1904-1905). In her poem, she expressed her general distaste for war and how her brother was a part of it.

O my young brother, I cry for you Don't you understand you must not die! You who were born the last of all Command a special store of parents' love

Would parents place a blade in children's hands

Teaching them to murder other men Teaching them to kill and then to die? Have you so learned and grown to twenty-four?

- excerpt from Sho Ho's poem, "Kimi Shinitamou Koto Nakare"

Her words were blunt enough to inflict guilt on her brother's conscience, as she wasn't afraid to express her disapproval over how her brother took part in the typical violent bloodshed and manslaughter of war. Such opinions perturbed the authorities, and her work was eventually banned from the public for a period of time. Later on, it was used as an anti-war statement.

2. Yosano's history.

Now, as for the character in BSD, Yosano is seen to be generally strong-willed, and later on, we see that she is terrifyingly compassionately ambitious in the way she treats her patients. She treasured life itself, and hated the thought of losing a patient.

Yosano had developed her relations with Mori Ougai back in the Great War, when she was just 11 years old. Her ability was a great benefactor in saving lives. Realistically speaking, she was used for her ability to heal injured soldiers and diminish the effect of any casualty acquired.

Initially, she wasn't aware of this, until one of her close friends pointed it out by subtly accusing Mori of manipulating her to participate in the War under the close-to false pretence of 'saving lives.'

As much as her ability did save lives, it also forced soldiers to return to the frontlines and suffer injuries over and over again. The soldiers were never given the opportunity to return to their families because of her ability. This obliged them to carry on in the war without any excuse, inserting them into a vicious cycle they had no escape out of.

Metaphorically speaking, Yosano's hatred for Mori sort of mirrors Sho Ho's disdain for war and fighting, don't you think? The way Kafka materialised Yosano's past was quite interesting because he used chapters 65 and 66 to explain Yosano's dislike for Mori, reflecting how Sho Ho used her poem to explain why she condemned the idea of war and how her brother was part of it.

Before the effect of her ability was fully understood, however, every soldier praised and thanked her for what an angel she was. One of the soldiers she had befriended and gotten close to even kept a tally of the number of times she had saved him. He was the one who gifted her the butterfly hairpin she wore all the time.

The weight of the truth that her ability was a curse rather than a blessing fully dawned on her when her soldier friend ultimately committed suicide, because the fact of being indefinitely trapped in the throes of war agonised him until his spirit gave out. This drove Yosano to loathe her ability, or rather, how it was used.

In the time she participated in the War, Yosano was given the alias 'angel of death' due to the control she retained over the battlefield, but I thought that perhaps Kafka had a reason behind giving her this title, so I did my research.

3. 'Angel of Death' defined.

Side note: I wouldn't want to disrespect any culture or religion, so if my citations are inaccurate and/or disrespectful, do feel free to correct me/let me know! I did research out of pure curiosity, and I don't intend to twist the significance of any of the interpretations.

I had to grow up learning about the basics of religious stuff, so it's kind of nice to study something out of the box, and very much against my father's rigid belief system :D

ARCHANGEL ARIEL

(archangel: an angel of higher rank)

I came across the few characteristics of angels/goddesses and their roles, and the one which really caught my attention was the female archangel, Ariel, the angel of nature.

[ source ]

In Hebrew, the name Ariel means 'altar' or 'lioness of God,' and her role is to heal. In addition to that, she is also recognised as a helper to another one of the seven main archangels, Raphael, whose role is to provide physical and emotional healing, too.

She is the protecter of the environment and the animals therein, and is bestowed with the duty to oversee the order of heavenly bodies as well as earth's natural resources. She assures the sustenance of food, water, shelter, and supplies of human beings, much like how a nurse is to a patient I suppose.

In relation to Yosano, I think this part is pretty self-explanatory, or perhaps this is blown out of proportion HA, so take this as a suggestion rather than a fact, because I'd like to believe that Kafka had a reason for giving Yosano a title as such.

In the past, I've come across the angel of death only to perceive it as a female grim reaper of some sort, so it was pretty cool to find that the word 'angel' and 'death' made up a title of a someone like Ariel, one of the purest forms of humility and compassion.

GREEK GODDESS PANAKEIA

For my beloved (wannabe/or not) students of Greek mythology (much like myself, let's make a cult!), you've probably heard of Panakeia, the goddess of healing. Medicine finds most of its vital significance in Greek history, and in its mythology, Panakeia is actually known for her ability to heal any kind of sickness.

[ source ]

Her name means 'panacea,' which is actually defined as a remedy for all diseases. Terminal diseases and injuries lead to death, right? This would bring us back to Yosano's ability to nullify any injury's effects on a person, keeping them from death itself.

Now, we know that in order for Yosano's ability to work, her patient, or victim, has to be in a near-death condition in order for her treatment to take effect. This can't exactly fit into the description of resurrection, but it can be described as some sort of rebirth.

GREEK GODDESS PERSEPHONE

So another goddess which reminds me of Sho Ho/Yosano, is Persephone, the goddess of spring and rebirth. Before Hades, the god of the underworld, fell in love with Persephone to take her to live with him, Persephone lived a happy life.

Hades, with his nature of darkness and the like, was captivated by how pure Persephone was, and stole her away from her former life to live in an environment which differed sharply from her natural aura of purity.

[ source ]

Remember when Yosano's friend left a note behind before he killed himself? The note said nothing except for, "You are too righteous." Take that as you will, but figuratively speaking, you could say Mori takes the role of Hades in the story, while Yosano can be portrayed as Persephone.

Sho Ho can also be a parallel of Persephone, in that she had to adapt to the realities of war and disharmony, while Persephone had to adapt to the raw darkness of the underworld with Hades.

Sho Ho stood against society's norms and decided to reform it, making her one of the most well-known feministic pacifist in history, while Persephone managed to escape from the underworld to return to her former position, earning the title the 'Bringer of Life,' or the 'Destroyer of Death.'

Furthermore, the way Sho Ho's anti-war poem took its effect later on, reflects the way Persephone restored balance in the world after returning from the underworld.

4. Yosano and Atsushi.

chapter 66; Yosano: "It's my fault that those close to me died... Is there some place where it's okay for me to live?"

chapter 8; Atsushi: "If I have any chance of saving them all, of returning them home safely, would that mean it's okay for me to keep on living?"

I couldn't help but think of Dazai and Atsushi back when I was reading through these panels. Ranpo (my beloved), along with Fukuzawa, accepted Yosano as she was, despite how her ability was a cause of despair and misfortune.

Ranpo looked past her mistakes and the entirety of how dark her past was to welcome her into the Armed Detective Agency. Dazai, on the other hand, knew who Atsushi was and what his ability had made him do before anyone else, and still decided to provide a safe place for Atsushi to find his sense of belonging, journeying with him as he learned to use his ability properly.

For more info about Dazai and Atsushi's dynamic, you can check out the analysis I did for Dazai :D

Atsushi desired to save people to prove his right to live, while Yosano made her wish to achieve the recovery of all her patients the reason for her existence.

Others would prefer to accuse both Yosano and Atsushi of having a saviour complex, but the reason why they pursued to save people with utmost dedication, stems from the nature of what their past was like. You know the saying 'from broken to beautiful?' Yeah, it's something like that.

The way their pasts were written out gave them a desire to change, which was, I daresay, initiated by the people who took them in: Ranpo and Dazai. Their abilities were demonised because of how they were used, but once they broke from their abilities' effect over their lives, they honed their skills to control them for the right cause instead.

In a less cynical point of view, I believe both Yosano and Atsushi stood for what was right, and wanted nothing but to achieve peace and harmony in whatever way they could, even if it meant risking their own lives to save others.

So yeah, that's it for my rants today. Thank you for reading, and if you have anything to add, go ahead! I'm open to discussions ;)

#bsd #bsd atsushi #bsd yosano #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd characters #bsd analysis #literature analysis #bsd abilities #bsd anime #bsd manga #bungo stray dogs atsushi #bungou stray dogs atsushi #bungou stray dogs yosano #bsd dazai #bsd mori #bsd ranpo #character analysis #.daydreams

[selfships-in-spanish]

Okay I can finally post about this AU me and @spirit-in-the-library have been working on like two cackling and scheming gremlins ❤

Who is ready for an Arranged Marriage!AU? :D This is gonna be a wild ride.

This is an idea I originally had for Ona and Connor but it didn't quite fit in what I had in mind, so I left it until I could find how to make it work. Then Eva and Erwin came and it clicked together perfectly 👌So, me and my friend @spirit-in-the-library humbly present this AU!

We got Erwin, Eva, Freyja (her OC, a total badass and I love her) and Levi all suited up for this adventure. I'll put a read more!

Eva comes from the kingdom of Gottesreich, a heavily religious and conservative kingdom where its King is always looking to expand territory and gain power, as well as bring the true word of God to the less advanced territories (he's a fucking asshole). It's a patriarchal monotheistic religion culture and kingdom, and definitely has some Adam and Eve-style enforced gender dynamics ingrained into the culture.

This reflects heavily whenever she is in front of other men and also of high status; she never speaks, only if asked and even in such situations she's afraid to give her opinion, conditioned to not do that by her father. To their eyes, Eva is the perfect Princess, her strict governess and her own father made sure of that. She knows how to act, what to say, what not to say, how to elegantly walk and bow, even has diplomatic knowledge, since she travelled quite often with her brothers when they had to do their own diplomatic missions. She's the perfect asset to any Kingdom and her father knows it pretty well, she's valuable and he has to gain something big in return of trading her.

So, this leaves Eva who has practically no self-steem or sees her own value but to be a bargaining chip, and it's heartbreaking. When Erwin sees her and gets to know her a little bit better, he knows she has a curious and inquisitive mind too, her eyes shine with intelligence when she thinks no-one is looking. She has a lot to say on her mind but years of toxic parenthood and the Kingdom's twisted values makes her keep her mouth shut, head bowed down.

The cultural shock between Eva's culture and Erwin's tribe renders Eva speechless. Men and women are equal, women can do whatever they want, can be warriors, and also worship three benevolent Goddesses (Maria, Rose and Sina), deeply respect nature and try to maintain balance and harmony the best of their capabilities. Eva's mind is blown.

Erwin is the Chief of the proud Warriors of Eldia, often labelled as demons by their enemies who have faced them in battle. They are depicted as blood-thirsty horned devils who have no mercy, when this couldn't be farther from the truth. Erwin is proud of his people, so he's the perfect example of the true poise and demeanour of a proud warrior. Kind of following the canon, he's extremely intelligent and clever, respected by his warriors and people, and is always scheming huge and even intricate plans, making his famous big gambles (like making an alliance with Eva's brother's to help them overthrow their corrupt father and keep their sister safe under the pretence of a marriage ;D). People often think Eldia is only a tribe of savages, but they couldn't be more wrong about it. They want to be left in peace and do their thing without being bothered.

He makes a personal vow to bring Eva to her fullest self, angry at the way they wilted a beautiful flower from its full bloom. Erwin acknowledges her intelligence and vehemently wants to know her opinion on things, strategies and the village's concerns.

Still with the Eldians, Levi is Erwin's right hand man, the second in command, and is not afraid to speak his mind and call on Erwin's bullshit quite often. He's crass and harsh, but deeply cares for the tribe and its people. He is small compared to other Eldian males, but he compensates with a sturdy body and almost insane reflexes and agility. He's fast, precise and terrifying with a sword. He makes a perfect assassin if needed, but also a fearsome warrior that has nothing to envy the big bulls they have in their army as soldiers.

He is also in charge of training troops, and often barks at the brats (the 104th) to stop being idiots and train like Maria is on their asses.

And at last, Freyja! Gottesreich decided to expand territory and colonise and annex the neighbouring villages and small kingdoms, and one of them was Freyja's one. She survived and fled, ending up as a refugee at the tribe of warriors of Eldia where they gave her food and a roof, but not after Erwin pulling strings to keep her head on her shoulders; he recognised her value as a warrior herself after taking down several of his men, and it would be a pity to lose such an asset. Freyja is terrifyingly good when teamed up with Levi, although they bicker and bite at each other constantly.

But she won't forget the absolute massacre carried on her people because Eva's father deemed heretics those who wouldn't convert. So, she's quite bitter towards Eva, and refuses to be her bodyguard and teacher of Eldia's culture and language when she is appointed as such by Erwin. They start a very rocky path but they become inseparable at the end.

WHEW CONGRATS ON FINISHING READING ALL THIS! We got many things planned and I'm already writing things 👀

I hope you like it!

Enjoy! :D

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #erwin smith #commander erwin #erwin smith x oc #levi ackerman x oc #erwin smith x reader #aot #snk #aot oc #snk oc #aot ocs #arranged marriage au #queen of demons #art post

[zutarawasrobbed]

So Zutara happens. Then what? War over, everyone else returns to their homes and loved ones while Aang wanders the world alone burying what's left of his culture before dying of depression next to Monk Gyatso's skeleton? Kataang's narrative purpose is to show that Aang can have belonging, bring back his people, have a life beyond being the Avatar. Without it, there's no happy ending. This could be avoided if they set up another romance for Aang after letting Katara go but they didnt.

Okay, so there is a lot to address here, and honestly, I had a hard time knowing where to begin because wow...

First of all, all I see here is how Aang feels. Why is it that whenever anyone discusses Kataang, it's all about Aang and his feelings? Even in the show, it's only ever really shown from his side and what he wants, not Katara. Does Katara have a say? Is Katara’s only purpose in life to be an airbending baby maker? Does Katara's very existence hinge on her being Aang's girlfriend? What about how she feels? What about what she wants? What about her happiness? Or is Aang's happiness all that matters, and Katara should just deal with it?

Now for the culture argument. I want to point out that no genocide is ever really successful in wiping out an entire group of people. Air nomads are literally nomads meaning they move around a lot. It's in the name. This means that there are most definitely other airbenders out there hiding too afraid to come out until after the war is over. But, let's say we go with all the airbenders are dead narrative, then it makes even less sense for Kataang to happen because that means the entirety of the future of one nation depends on how many airbending babies Katara pops out. So this plan is stupid. But Aang is 12, so this plan might make sense in his brain. However, as he grows up, he would come to the obvious realization that if he wants to bring back the airbenders he needs to make a lot of babies with a lot of different women, so monogamy makes no sense and Katara would likely not be down for her boyfriend/husband "planting his seed" in every willing woman given that she's from the water tribes where family units are central to her culture.

Another thing Aang is 12, he'll survive not getting his first crush to date him. We all have at some point or another experienced heartbreak over someone who didn't like us back. We get sad for a bit and then move on. That's life. I also speak from experience as someone who was in a relatioship at 12 that no one should date at that age, and it is extremely unlikely you will end up together in the end. My relationship lasted a grand total of three months, and it is by far the dumbest decision I ever made. I was an idiot, he was an idiot, we were both idiots not ready for a relationship like all 12-year-olds are. So the idea that Aang and Katara would even last beyond a few months is ridiculous and unrealistic. In fact, the idea of me still being with that same person makes me visibly cringe because it was very unhealthy for a multitude of reasons I am still recovering from emotionally. If I was still with him, I would not be in the amazing relationship I am in now. Every relationship contains lessons that help us grow, and we keep with us when entering another relatioship. Sometimes we grow in relationships, and we realize we aren't right for each other, and that's okay. That's life. It goes on. That said, I know some people do get together at that young age and end up happily married. I know two people from my high school personally who got together at 14, got married a year after high school, and just had their first baby. But, the likelihood of that happening is extremely slim. On that note, relationships are hard work and require a certain amount of maturity. The maturity gap between Katara and Aang is vast, with Katara having the mental age of at least 25 and Aang still having the mental age of 12. It's unbalanced. 

Furthermore, the idea that Aang's happiness depends on Katara being with him means that his other relationships pale in comparison to his crush. It also makes him kind of pathetic if he's gonna end up "dying of depression next to Monk Gyatso's skeleton" as you so eloquently put it if he doesn't get with Katara. Also, it makes the connections he has with the others in the gaang worthless, especially his friendship with Katara. Because that means Aang doesn't really care about being in Katara's life if it isn't in the way, he wants it. It makes their friendship conditional, with no value because there was always an ulterior motive, and in his mind, it was always just a means to an end. That just makes him a selfish dick.

The argument that Aang is alone without Katara is dumb. He has Toph, Sokka, Suki, Katara, and Zuko. Plus, I don't know if you know this, but you can make more friends than the ones you made in your teens. You don't just stop making friends after a certain age. You continue to meet people and form connections. And given how charismatic Aang is, he's gonna make a ton of more friends and have the opportunity to form new bonds, including romantic ones as well. Furthermore, as a 12-year-old, Aang should be allowed to expand his circle around the world because he is the Avatar, and he is going to need to make new friends because his main ones aren't always gonna be available. Moreover, the idea of Aang being alone without Katara implies that Aang will only ever have katara at his side and cut ties with everyone else and expect her to do the same.

The idea that to have a happy ending Aang must get into a romantic relationship makes no sense. What about Toph? She didn't have a romantic relationship in the end, and she was perfectly happy. Because she's 12 and knows life doesn't depend on being in a romantic relationship all of the time. Furthermore, on the topic of Toph, I would like to bring up another argument you made about Aang not developing other potential love interests because he does. Toph is one of them. In season 2, we are introduced to Toph by way of a vision that is pretty romantic and used as a common trope in both modern and ancient literature. We also see their compatibility in the way they are naturally with each other. Aang wants to be a kid and have fun. With Toph, he can do that. But, he also has someone who won't let him shirk his responsibilities when they matter most. They match and balance each other in their personalities, and we see some possible romantic development in both seasons 2 and 3. Another potential love interest we are introduced to is On Ji in season 3, episode 2, "The Headband," where we see her have an obvious crush on "Kuzon" (Aang.) But what's appealing about this pairing is that she doesn't know he's the Avatar, meaning she genuinely likes him for who he is without the glitz and glamour. Which I personally find adorable. Side note, I am aware that "the headband" is supposed to be a hallmark "kataang" episode. However, I would be remiss if I did not point out that this episode actually proves the "Katara doesn't treat/see Aang as a son" argument wrong. Because in that same episode, before the dance scene, Katara literally pretends to be Aang's pregnant mother.

Moreover, Aang is not without purpose outside of being the Avatar. The very notion is ridiculous. Yes, he has to rebuild his nation, he's a symbol of peace, but he is also a person who wants friends and a family, which he has found in the gaang. He also has the purpose of being a kid, which now he can be contingent on him meeting his obligations as the Avatar.

Lastly, I would like to reiterate that not only is Aang 12 and a child, the rest of the gaang are too. Granted, Aang is by far the least mature as he grew up in a time without war and has not had to a childhood with the effects of war the other members of the gaang have throughout their lives. But, in regards to Zutara, I personally do not see them getting together immediately after the war, they both have responsibilities to their respective nations. Katara, in rebuilding her tribe and Zuko in redefining the Fire Nation. Therefore, it would take years just to find some stability. But that doesn't mean they don't keep in touch. We know out of everyone in the gang, Zuko and Katara are closest to each other. They both share a bond with each other no one can match. You might be tempted to argue that Aang is closest to Katara and her best friend, but that is pretty debatable because both Aang and Katara have more positive interactions with other gaang members than they do with each other. For instance, if I had to choose out of everyone in the Gaang who Katara's best friend was, aside from Zuko, I would be tied between Toph and Suki. But, given Suki is not part of the gaang long enough to really expand on her relationships with the others beside Sokka, Toph would be my answer. That said, after the war, everyone would keep in touch with each other. They are all friends for life regardless of romantic relationships. Therefore, the gaang would most definitely be keeping in touch with each other, not just Zuko and Katara. But over the years as they grow, I can see Zuko and Katara growing closer and building on that strong foundation to form a strong and healthy romantic relationship.

#kataang salt #anti kataang #Anon #Anonymous Ask #anon ask #Zutara #I legit need a nap

[yoonsshadow]

ETERNAL - iv

➳ summary ; They have died so often that death has lost its meaning; hurt so regularly that pain has become inconsequential; lost so much that they hold each other to the light of the stars. They have nothing yet they have everything, as long as they have each other. And, after centuries, they now have her.

➳ pairing ; bts!ot7 x fem!reader

➳ genres ; The Old Guard au; fantasy, historical, action, romance, alternate universe

➳ themes ; angst, fluff, death

➳ warnings ; talk of death, ptsd/flashbacks, war zone, heavy violence, course language, panic attack

➳ word count ; 2k

➳ note ; Hello! I know that this chapter took a little longer to get out, and it is a little shorter than usual, but it’s because it takes a lot of time and research to make sure that I’m doing this story justice. That being said, I hope that you enjoy!! The journey for these eight have truly begun now, and boy, do they have a lot coming. :3

masterlist

For a while now, your life has been slipping between your fingers. Like a shadow passing through the night, every moment has melted through you, pooling at your feet until you’re slipping, falling, thrown to the ground. From the moment the first bullet was delivered through your skull, you have lost grip of your control; of the things you hold dearest to you.

Sitting here, surrounded by these seven men, that empty cavern in your chest aches just a little less. It hasn’t started to fill up yet⎯⎯might not for a very long while⎯⎯but the silence no longer echoes. 

“It still feels weird to think about,” you say, soft voice carrying through the room with ease. They are all listening so carefully that you cannot meet any of their eyes. “That I died, I mean. I’ve had time to rationalise it, but my whole life has been spent thinking one way⎯⎯believing in life and death, mortality, the fragility and preciousness of living⎯⎯but now I’ve been killed multiple times, died naturally a handful more, and so it feels as though the whole world has been skewed and I’m yet to find my balance.”

Your fingers fiddle together in your lap, eyes downcast to the empty soup bowl on the coffee table.

“The story of how I died the first time is kind of a long one. I can’t tell you about the final moments without explaining everything that led up to it, but there are a few years of history to go through. So, if you want me to condense it…”

“We have all the time in the world,” Namjoon assures, and it could be a joke, a satirical remark regarding your current situations, but instead he speaks with the utmost care, as if he is afraid of any wrong word, any misstep. He is telling you that they are patient, that they don’t mind waiting, that they will listen to every word you say. For you.

And it warms that hole in your chest enough for you to meet his eyes⎯⎯all of their eyes⎯⎯and offer a small smile. Then you nod to yourself. This is a story you need to tell, no matter how painful the memories are.

“Two-and-a-half years ago,” you begin, “the Special Warfare Command uncovered the elaborate smuggling operation of North Korean forces. Untraceable men⎯⎯assumed Black-Ops⎯⎯would enter South Korea through other countries using fake documentation. It’s unclear how long they stayed, months or years, but they would eventually kidnap vulnerable children and smuggle them to North Korea via Mongolia and China.

“Unfortunately, it took years to trace the movements of these men to a point where we knew what they were doing and how they were doing it. The SWC eventually concluded that North Korea were kidnapping and training future sleeper agents and spies, and avoiding suspicion by hiding in the Gobi Desert. They had an entire base of operations on a grey-zone of the border between Mongolia and China, and managed to leave no traces of their movements.”

You need to take a deep gulp of air at this point. Up until now, you have merely stated facts; regurgitated information as you have been told. However, you know that everything from this point on will become personal. You try to think back on your years of conditioning in the army.

“It was at this point that my team was requested for the operation. The 707th Special Mission Group has hundreds of personnel, all within two assault companies, one support company, and one all-female company. There are many missions in which female operators are a better fit, this one included, and out of the female company, my team was chosen.

“When I was promoted to Captain, and at such a young age... All I felt was excitement. Excitement for such an honour, for the experiences ahead, for being able to lead my very own team. The women on my team worked so well, too. We had many successful missions, small and big, and we were ready for this operation. We were ready for Operation Fawn.”

The air in your lungs stutters as you exhale, and you try to swallow the lump in your throat. You’ve avoided thoughts of the thirteen women who had become your friends, your family, but now you are submerged in the memories. Both joyous and tragic.

A few of the men around you look as if they want to move forward, to comfort you, but they also know that it isn’t their place to do so. Not yet.

“The plan was relatively straight-forward. We had found the location of the children, and so it was our job to silently infiltrate the site. Remove all hostiles, retrieve the missing kids, bring them back safely. It wasn’t unlike other missions we had completed before, so we were confident that we could execute it without fail.”

Pulse pumping loudly in your ears, heart beating violently in your chest, you begin to see flashes of that night, playing before your eyes without your permission.

“Get down!” A bullet whirs through the air where your lieutenant’s head had just been, close enough to be able to hear it cutting through the air. “Shit,” you mumble to yourself, peeking around the corner of the collapsed wall for the rest of your team, “how the fuck are there so many of them?”

“Captain.” A voice cuts through the chaos, the intercom in your ear crackling to life. “They’re still pouring in - West entrance - all armed. There shouldn’t be this many men.”

You land shots on three oncoming men, their bodies falling to the ground, but they are quickly replaced by more on their way. You have to do something; you can’t allow your team⎯⎯or the children⎯⎯to die tonight. 

While your lieutenant watches your back, you fiddle with the dial of your radio, changing to a different channel.

“Command, this is Dragon, do you copy?”

No response comes through, and you’re forced to move from the wall with your gun poised, firing shots at any unfamiliar figure you see.

“Command, this is Dragon, do you copy?!”

A grenade explodes a short distance away, shaking the ground and sending you stumbling.

“Command, this is Dragon, Operation Fawn has been compromised! I repeat, Operation Fawn has been compromised! Delta Team needs immediate backup, over a hundred hostiles, and counting!”

Either the commotion around you drowns out the voice in your ear, or you’ve yet again received no response. You are starting to get desperate.

“Jesus fuc⎯ we’re completely overwhelmed, Command! My team can only hold out for a little while longer, but these fuckers just keep pouring in! Something is wrong, there shouldn’t be this many of them, we can’t fucking⎯”

Somebody tackles you to the ground. Gunshots, shouts, dirt in your face, a hand on your throat. The man on top of you is heavy, but you’re able to roll him off of you and shoot him between the eyes.

The blood splatters across your goggles.

It’s all too much. There are men everywhere, and you can’t see any of your team members throughout the chaos. You can’t get through to your command centre. Everything that was supposed to be easy tonight has gone wrong. Something heavy, and dark⎯⎯something that feels a lot like doom and panic and we’re going to die⎯⎯lurks in your guts, but you can’t think about that right now. You have to find your girls, have to save these children, have to stay alive⎯

Your fist aches nearly as much as your thudding chest.

Images of death and violence fade away as you blink violently, flexing your fingers individually and then all together, mind still scrambled, still alert.

There are hands on your shoulders, solid and heavy and grounding, and a pair of soft eyes searching for yours. All eyes in the room are on you, but all you can focus on is Yoongi, who looks as if he knows, as if he understands.

And there is a fist-sized patch of red on his left cheekbone. God, your fist, his face, what have you done, oh god I’ve hurt him⎯

Cool air blows on the silent tears that stream down your cheeks, your bones trembling with adrenaline and fear and sorrow. He’s saying something, lips moving slowly, but the clouds in your head are muffling everything. His hands move to hold yours.

You recognise the movement of his lips as the words breathe, it’s okay, and you try your best to obey, but your throat has closed up, tight like the grip of that enemy soldier who had held you to the ground⎯

Yoongi brings one of your hands to his chest, pressing your fingers into him, and you faintly feel the thudding of a heartbeat against your palm. Then, he breathes in, slow and deep, and you follow.

In and out, one by one, Yoongi slowly guides you to breathe steadily once again, your chest growing less tight with each shaky gasp. The tears have stopped flowing, and your limbs have calmed into only a slight tremor, and the darkness in his eyes are captivating. You want to lean forward, let them swallow you whole, but you instead squeeze his hands in silent thanks.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he whispers, and you realise that your head has calmed down enough to take in your surroundings. All seven are watching you with a careful and guarded eye, but you find no pity. It brings you a sliver of relief.

Rather than replying, you merely nod your head and allow Yoongi to pull you up onto shaky legs. Exhaustion is already weighing you down, and all you want to do is escape your own mind.

They have been once before. You, asleep in the spare room, and them, huddled together on the lounges. They are worried about you, but they are also much more; the fear in your voice, the heartache in each memory, was familiar to them. As they watched you relive your trauma, they relived theirs as well.

“I’m sorry, I-” Namjoon’s words stutter out, unsure, unplanned, unlike the way he usually speaks. “This is my fault. I should’ve known- it was too early to- and maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt...”

“Hey, no.” Seokjin’s hands on Namjoon’s shoulders are as firm as his words, kind eyes seeking regretful ones. “Don’t blame yourself; this is nobody’s fault. She made her decision to tell us. Don’t take that away from her. And we all know that she couldn’t help that reflex. Yoongi’s been hit harder.”

“We didn’t even hear the rest of the story,” Jimin pouts, nibbling his lower lip between his teeth. “Like, how she died, how her team died, what happened to the mission.”

“We’ll have to be patient,” Yoongi sighs. His cheek is already blue and purple, and will probably be fully healed in an hour. “We know the fundamentals, anyway. A mission that was supposed to be clear-cut somehow got turned on its head. It cost her team’s lives.”

“How does something like that even happen?” Next to Jimin, Taehyung’s pout is not quite as full, but still full of the emotions he is trying to keep in. “It isn’t just her team that got hit, but the entire Special Warfare Command. This was a big operation, guys, so something like this should’ve been prevented.”

“Do you think…” Jeongguk is clutching a pillow close to his chest. “Do you think somebody from the inside betrayed them?” Six faces turn to look at him, shocked at the implication, shocked that it makes sense. “I mean, the information about the operation would have been top secret. North Korea has resources, sure, but they shouldn’t have known the when, where, and how of the mission. Somebody had to have turned.”

“Who would’ve done it?” Jimin’s question is not asking for an answer. He feels sick at the thought.

It is at this moment that Hoseok chooses to emerge from his deep silence. When he speaks, his voice is regretful. Knowing. “I think she knows exactly who did it.”

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tags: @leafyturtle​, @loveyoongles, @paint-music-with-me, @barbikatherine, @itsmorgo1604, @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @veronawrites, @applepie1000, @yoonchrisgullwrites, @ally22042000, @ireallylikefoodandyoutube, @blglmgk01​, @basicgukk, @softescapism​, @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered​, @m1nt-3lla​, @hunnayesblog, @rosycheekb​, @hemmofluke​, @the-bisaster​ 

#bts #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #bts po #bts poly!au #bts poly au #bts reader insert #bts scenario #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #poly bts #poly bts x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #the old guard au #eternal

[hitory--chan]

Day 5: Queen of the Garden

(Ranked T)

Title: In my withered roses you lay resting

Around the forest there were always legends of all kinds, about fantastic creatures and horrifying monsters beyond human imagination, about nymphs, fairies, werewolves and giant snakes that would devastate the entire town in a few minutes if they wanted to; they were just legends, stories to amaze or scare whoever would listen to them, hypnotizing the virgin ear that listened to them with their magnetism, leading their victim to demand more, driving them mad in the search to satisfy that need.

But there was one in particular, the biggest, the most fantastic, the most sublime and the most terrifying no one ever dared to tell, the one whose existence was only known to the oldest of the town who defended tooth and nail its veracity, but nevertheless only tell each other, remembering and crying the intense agony that each word conveyed.

The legend of Hinata, the queen of the garden in the heart of the forest, and Sasuke, the infamous king who without any army was able to penetrate the invulnerable barriers that protected the queen.

The king who never returned.

“My King!” One of her courtesans shouted. "Please, I beg you to reconsider!"

He ignored her, tightening the draws of his armor as the guards placed the shoulder pads and handed him his helmet, which he took.

It was still dark, the moonlight hanging over the entire sleeping kingdom as he prepared to leave.

"My lord, he turned, now listening to his first officer, Kakashi, who was speaking to him "Are you sure this is a good idea? Going into the forest alone?"

"It's not something I didn't do before, Kakashi, you should know" he replied without much interest as he grasped the reins of Onyx, the majestic black horse that had accompanied him for years.

"I understand, but it's not the same, your majesty, it never got beyond the Stone River" the man said, his voice so slow and dull as if it was something he was trained to say, but Sasuke knew him better than many as to know that there was concern hidden behind those dead tones “It is a great risk to take to find a woman that we do not even know exists”

"People are dying Kakashi, of hunger, of disease ..." He inclined his head a little towards his first officer, not enough to really see him “If that woman, that… witch exists, it will be our chance to solve all the evils that afflict us, if I find her, then I save my people”

“And if you do not find her, my lord?”

“Then we will have to take more drastic actions, actions that I don't think we're ready for right now, Kakashi”

The silence that followed told Sasuke that the man knew what he was referring to.

They had recently fought a war against a rival kingdom that wanted to take over all his lands. They attacked in the middle of the night, cowardly seeking to have the tactical advantage darkness gave them without expecting the surprise that they were ready to fight back with much more violence than would be expected of a small kingdom that barely prospered in comparison to others. Many lives were lost on both sides, but his army had kept the slightest advantage over the invaders and captured the main officers of the intruders, executing him right on the battlefield as he had ordered them to do, closing any openings to negotiation the rival might propose.

They rose above them and conquered, drove the remaining invaders from their lands and proclaimed their victory, but they had not come out without casualties, as happened in any other war.

Their crops were burned and their women desecrated. Bodies of infants who had adventured out of their hiding spots now laying among the corpses of their fathers and men who sacrificed their lives in the name of the king's sovereignty, waiting to be buried or burned while their mothers, wives, and brothers mourned their losses.

Soon after came the diseases, plagues so violent that even the best physicians in the kingdom had succumbed to permanent contact with the infected and were now lying in beds, signaling with weak voices to proceed to their charges.

The only hope was the woman who dwelt in the depths of the forest, a queen in her own right, the oracle told him, whose miraculous fingers brought life to everything she touched. A witch, servant of the devil, counterattacked the priest, who would only bring bliss before plunging them further into misery.

A queen, a witch, Sasuke didn't care, he only wanted her hands to heal his people, determined to cut them off if necessary to save the few that were left.

Then Sasuke mounted his horse and reached out his hand, taking the sword that Kakashi had prepared for him and fastening it to his waist strap, where it would remain with him throughout his journey.

"Itachi will be in charge while I'm gone" he decreed, looking at his court, who looked at him in surprise and disbelief.

“My king, my lord!” The woman spoke again “His majesty is very ill for this task, I fear that his condition is too delicate to carry the role, your highness!”

“My brother already ruled once in a worse state than the one he currently is in while waiting for me to grow up to cede the throne, he certainly can do it a bit more while I'm gone”

“But sir…!”

"In case his condition worsens ..." he interrupted, with a tone of voice as icy as the look he gave the woman "in case he´s not an act to continue, then Kakashi will make all the decisions in my absence and my brother's disability”

Several indignant murmurs were heard from the other members of the court, annoyed by the possibility of a military man would rule them, but with the same look he gave the insolent woman, he quieted them all.

"Kakashi" he called and the man walked with him towards the limits of the kingdom that served as the border of the forest, trotting slowly as his first officer followed him with great ease "I trust you to keep everyone safe, especially my brother” he said, stopping his steed and staring at the man.

"My king's orders are my perpetual la," Kakashi recited, quoting the motto of imperial strength as he brought his right hand to his heart and bowed to him.

Sasuke nodded, but before starting his horse again, he spoke for the last time.

- And Kakashi ... execute her

Kakashi bowed again and Sasuke pulled the reins of his horse to start running, going into the forest when the first rays of dawn hit the ground, and knowing his order would be carried out without hesitation.

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

Inside the forest the thick trees hid any trace of the sun, giving the illusion that it was still night even though Sasuke knew it must be after eight.

Still he didn't back down, mentally reciting the directions the oracle had given him to find the mysterious woman.

“Once crossed the river of stone, the road will split for you, one more dangerous the other, competing for the new prey that appears before them. Be guided by the horrendous noises that make the bones of the strongest of men tremble, by the trail of perdition from which your eyes will not be able to turn away, from the putrid stench of those who defied the sanctity of the earth who stepped on impure feet.

Along the way you will find death's favorite resting place. Do not drink or eat the natural delicacies that will be shown for you, instead you must use your senses, facing the great beast that will attack from the shadows.

If the combat is satisfactory, then the beast will show its respects by leading you to its queen, otherwise, there will be the place of your last rest"

Naturally, oracles liked to be cryptic with their words to the point of making them indecipherable, but the more than a century old woman who had served three generations of her family had put those fanfare behind her, preferring to be as clear as possible in her revelations than risk a bad future for the kingdom because of misunderstandings out of her tongue.

Upon reaching the Stone River, he took a moment to observe the waters peacefully.

That river had been named this way not only because of the rock formation that simulated a natural bridge in the center of that great pool, just covering its surface with a thin layer of water that made it extremely slippery, but also because of the rock at its bottom, arranged in the shape of spikes so sharp that even the slightest fall on them could cause fatal injuries to the unfortunate victim.

He allowed Onyx to drink some of the water before venturing across the stone bridge.

His horse, fearless just like his owner, also had some afraid. On rare occasions he’d tried to cross that path through the waters with the equine, but his partner had acquired a phobia at that particular step when, being very young, he slipped on the stone and it was almost impossible for him to get back on his feet, almost falling to the bottom of the river when with desperate movements he slid to one side before finally reaching the bank of the river and climbing, being completely exhausted on the grass, all under the frightened gaze of his owner who had remained on dry land while his horse struggled.

He remembers that, after that, he had remained with Onyx there for longer than he ever was in that place, being found by the royal guard and brought to the castle only to remain expectant all night at the possibility of having to sacrifice the animal.

Now, Onyx was a majestic and imposing stallion with more history than half his stablemates, but from time to time he would turn back into a fearful foal when they were near that place.

However, while he normally wouldn't push him any further than he considered Onyx could take, this time around he couldn't afford to be understandable to his horse or to be left without a mount for the rest of the way.

“Come on boy!” He encouraged him, shaking the reins several times and smiling as Onyx, refusing at first, approached the rock and put his front legs on it, whinnying loudly as he took small terrified steps.

Even in the slippery material, the new horseshoes he had had his horse put on were being especially helpful in preventing the equine's legs from slipping over the rock even when Onyx's steps were somewhat shaky, leading the horse to gain a little confidence with every step until he was finally on the other side.

“Well done, Onyx!” He congratulated the horse, patting and stroking his neck before pulling out an apple, which he happily accepted.

He wasted no time and continued with the journey, reaching the place where the road divided in three.

At first glance they did not seem dangerous at all, leading him to wonder if the oracle had been wrong with her interpretation or if he had deviated from the correct path himself, but the sudden sound of something sliding on the ground caught his attention and put his whole body on guard again, waiting for any sign of attack.

Instead what he received was the cawing of birds, crows, he recognized, noises of something sliding and the screeching of bats that flew directly to his face at that moment, causing Onyx to panic and stand up on his two hind legs, almost making Sasuke to fall.

When he regained his balance and Onyx was back on all fours, Sasuke looked at the central path, remembering what the oracle had said and thinking that this should be the way to go, so he made the horse move forward, despite the reluctance of the animal.

The putrid stench started only a few minutes on the road before dead animals began to appear on the road, being replaced only a few meters later by human corpses in various states of putrefaction, from skeletons to bodies that should barely have been there for a few days. , and even recognized the uniform worn by the third-rank guards in his kingdom, only stuffed with bones, each corpse wrapped by vines and other local weeds.

He was forced to breathe as little as possible when the stench became impossible to bear, coming to vomit in the section where everything was strongest, without having the opportunity to breathe until the road began to clear of so much death, showing to his sight a great stone plateau clothed with climbing vines and rosebuds.

He got off his horse and gave him another snack, tying the reins to the tree farthest from the ferns and other plants full of fruit that he knew they shouldn't eat.

Slowly and carefully he approached the great structure, gazing at it in fascination. Up close, he noticed the spines that protruded around the roses of different sizes that decorated the plateau, which, he noticed, were deceptively sharp, cutting him at the simple touch and spilling a thick drop of blood that bathed the thorn that caused his wound.

The sudden tremor in his spine appeared as the slight trembling of the earth beneath his feet, accompanied by the sound of something sliding - something that must have been big and heavy, from the way it sounded - and then deafening silence was present. .

“Onyx!” He shouted, turning around when he heard the horse whinny and stop suddenly, expecting to meet the animal where he had left it, however in its place he found another type of animal, giant and with shiny black scales, which were only cut with the three red lines of scales on the tip of its tail, raised in the air with a swaying motion.

The gigantic snake kept its eyes fixed on his, hissing and showing off his forked white tongue.

Eyes wider than they had ever been in his life, he diverted them just a little to the rest of the great reptile's body, almost growling in pain at the bulge protruding from where, he guessed, was the stomach of the immense snake, sure it was the product of his horse swallowing.

Feeling the flame of fury ignite and grow in him, he grasped the hilt of his sword in a slow motion and drew it lightly, as the serpent rose a little higher above him.

With one swift movement he pulled it out completely as the snake lunged at him, barely being fast enough to avoid its jaws, but not fast enough to dodge its tail, which slammed it against a tree and left it stamped there until he nailed the sword almost halfway.

Even his powerful armor hadn't been enough to shield him from that blow, catching his breath cut short by the pressure of the limb that had held him captive, but he had no time to think about that as he tried to get away from the great perimeter that covered the snake.

The injured tail slammed into the ground next to him, causing him to stumble from the din it caused.

The reptile's head also collided with the ground a few feet from his back and then glided at high speed towards him, using its nose to push him up when he collided with him and sent him flying into the air as the snake rose again, now with its jaws open.

But Sasuke was able to hold on to the tip of the animal's nose and avoid being swallowed as he had done with his horse by resting his feet against the bottom of the snake's mouth and giving a little jump before it closed it, being helped by the impulse that the same reptile gave him before the abrupt movement it made while trying to make him fall.

Sasuke stayed on the snake's skull and held onto its scales as best he could before stabbing his sword - which he had clung to as much as he could during the attack - into one of the animal's eyes, which let out a shrill and strange sound before, to Sasuke's immense amazement, it made a 180 ° turn and threw himself hard against the floor, taking him with and crashing him on the flat surface, a blow so violent that it caused him to lose his helmet, his mobility and his strength.

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

Only seconds before he lost consciousness he saw the towering snake - now one-eyed - rise above him before launching itself with his jaws open just as Sasuke's eyes finally gave up.

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was the immense throbbing pain in his head that only got worse when he tried to open his eyes, being hit by the brightest sunlight that forced him to close them again.

Where had so much light come from?

After a while, and when he was sure he could resist it, he opened his eyes again.

It took him a long time to regain the clarity of his sight, but once everything was clear he was astonished at what he saw.

In front of him a large colorful space, green above all, stood proud in all that light. Huge trees were here and there, casting great shadows, covered with fruit in great quantity.

A few meters from him was a lake with crystal clear waters, reflecting everything that was shown from above.

It was only when a slight movement behind him caught his attention that he realized he had been leaning against something cold, and when he turned around he felt as if his entire being had left his body when he found himself face to face with the giant eye yellowish that he recognized instantly.

He backed away quickly, grunting in pain as his muscles protested at his sudden movements, but instead of stopping to ease them, he fought them and reached for his sword at her waist, surprised not to find it.

The snake stared at him for a few seconds before lazily deflecting its head toward the center of the thread that had turned its body.

—You must not fear, it will not hurt you

He turned quickly and looked around, searching for the soft voice that he had said those words.

"Onyx" he breathed out, seeing the mate he had thought he lost, now lying on the grass, asleep on the other side of the lake.

Naturally those words were not said by the animal, but by the other person next to it, who was gently stroking the mane of his horse.

Their eyes met and he forgot how to breathe, incredulous of the moons that were his pupils, beautiful, and that without a doubt were looking directly at him.

The woman stood up and he could see her completely: snowy skin, long dark hair that swayed with every step she took. Her body was covered in leaves, branches and flowers that clung to her like a second layer. The upper part of her was covered by vines up to the middle of her breasts, being enough to cover the most. The lower part was a skirt, much less rigid than the upper one as it was made entirely of green leaves in different sizes, stopping only a few inches above her knees.

A long vine rested in the center of her abdomen, joining the two pieces as one.

She was barefoot and her hair was decorated with the most elaborate flower crown he had ever seen in his life.

As he passed by the lake, he stopped, crouching in the direction of the water, taking from the ground a large leaf of a plant that he did not recognize - and which he had not realized was lying there - and wrapped it gently until it formed a bowl that she plunged into the water until filled it, rising again and resuming its way towards him, now with the makeshift pot that spilled tiny drops from its bottom.

When she finally got to him, he saw her more clearly: thin and natural pink lips, a small and upturned nose, perfectly shaped eyebrows and long eyelashes that only marveled her appearance even more, also highlighting the lack of the slightest freckle on her face.

She offered him the bowl but he did not take it at first, still fascinated and hypnotized by the beauty of the woman in front of him until she pushed it to his chest, forcing him to hold it as she took one by one his hands between her smallest and drew them to the sides of the blade, releasing it when she made sure his grip was firm.

She, with one of her index fingers, touched the surface of the water three times in different parts, and when her hand lowered three different flowers grew in the water: a lotus, a calla and a water lily, which immediately disintegrated and mixed with the liquid, giving it a color that ranged from pink to purple.

"Take it" she said, looking into his eyes "it will help you heal."

He didn't know why, but he obeyed her and took the entire tonic in one gulp, grimacing when the bitter taste of it touched his tongue and she slid down her throat.

She smirked and turned around, walking back to where Onyx was now awake, looking at them wearily.

"It's you" was the first thing that came out of his mouth, looking at her completely uncovered back as she walked away from him “The witch”.

Her walking stopped and she turned around again, looking at him now with a frown, offended.

“That's very rude!. I am not a witch" she protested "My name is Hinata Hyuga, and I am the queen of this garden" she said proudly, turning to resume her march as if her statement was enough to deny his word.

But he would not be fooled; he had witnessed for himself what she had done in the water she had given him to drink.

He looked around him and his sight fell on his sword and armor, arranged neatly on the grass near the giant serpent's tail.

Slowly and careful not to be heard he approached his things and took the sword at the same time that with difficulty he took three steps back as the snake's tail moved to hit the ground and then returned to its original position.

It took a bit of trouble, but he was able to raise his sword and hold it with both hands, directing the tip in the direction in which that woman - that witch - was, now again sitting on the grass, stroking the back of his horse, looking at him unimpressed.

"Witch, you will come with me" he demanded "Everything will be easier if you do not resist, you will get a decent treatment: you will sleep in the softest bed, you will wear the finest clothes ... otherwise, if you resist, you ... you ..." He stopped for a moment, not for lack of words, but from shortness of breath —If… if you resist… the dungeon… the smallest and dirtiest dungeon will be…

"You’re hurting them" she interrupted, and he didn't understand.

The witch looked down and he followed her eyes, stopping at the sword that was now stuck in the middle of a small group of flowers.

When had he lowered his sword?

“What did you do to me?” He growled, aware of the progressive loss of strength to which he was subjected.

"It's the medicine" said the witch, calmly "for your body to heal, it must first rest”

And as if that were a command, his body fell apart, causing him to fall to the floor on a tall grass bed that he could swear was not there a moment ago.

- Witch! ... You will pay...

Unconsciousness welcomed him.

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

When he woke up there was still sunlight, quite clear, so he thought that maybe he had only slept a few seconds, but the environment felt different from before and he could hear the distinctive galloping and neighing of Onyx, going here and there as his footsteps slightly covered the happy laugh of the female.

He could not move his body freely, only just his fingers, and mentally he cursed himself for having taken that concoction that this evil woman had given him, clearly using her sorcery to weaken him.

“Your body still needs rest” he could have shuddered at the sudden voice if it weren't for the fact that he was paralyzed, shortly afterwards the witch's face appeared in his visual range, tilted from above so he could see her “you´ve been very hurt by your confrontation with Munda, your injuries will take a little longer to heal”

He grunted, annoyed.

“Why have you risked your life to get here, mortal?” She asked him, now in a more serious tone.

Then and once again without really knowing why, he began to tell her about his kingdom, about the moments of wealth and prosperity before the war struck, about the deaths and the lack of food that besieged them, making their situation worse. He told her about his brother and his mysterious bedridden illness, about the sudden barrenness of his lands, and how he had preferred to make this trip alone rather than take away much-needed protection in case they tried again to invade them during his absence.

In her face there was no sorrow, annoyance or joy for their misfortunes, instead it was pure curiosity what he could see while he finished explaining the reason why he was looking for her.

"Okay, I'll go with you" she answered with conviction.

He, who had gradually regained mobility to the point where he could now sit up and the waves of heat attacked him insistently, looked at her in surprise, unable to avoid questioning her decision.

"I'll go with you" she confirmed again "However, the starting path is more dangerous than the one you traveled to get here, so you will have to make a full recovery first" She stood up and looked at him “I cannot be away for long, this place depends on me, so I will help your people and leave immediately, it is my only condition”

He watched her, almost denying immediately that he could leave that easily, but he was quick enough to bite his tongue before speaking.

"Okay, then we have a deal" he agreed.

She nodded pleased and stood up, walking away from him and up a tiny hill where she began to press with her fingers the closed buds and the withered flowers that surrounded her, opening and coming back to life with the simple touch of her.

Despite having accepted, in his mind they only danced ways of how he would interrupt her departure, it would be very foolish of him to let her go that easy, a person with her abilities, whether witch or not, was unique, one in a million , and no self-respecting kingdom would let her go that easily.

He could try to convince her by showing her everything that she obviously didn't have in her "garden", the wonders of modernity, and if that couldn't convince her, well, he had dungeons at his disposal that he could trick her into or even without them, but surely he would not lose those abilities from his hands.

Satisfied with that plan, he began to touch the back of both of his hands, searching and removing the splinters that he did not know how he has nailed himself.

Even though Hinata's tonics were helping him recover faster than he normally would, it felt like it was actually taking forever.

There, the days and nights seemed to last longer than normal, as if the clock had 36 hours instead of 24.

Each remedy that Hinata gave her were different and she healed something different, like the one she used to make his bruises disappear, which were a combination of wild flowers and citrus fruits that melted in the water as soon as she created them and released. Those bruises that would normally take a week or more to fade, she had done it in almost three days.

The problem is that she could only give him a tonic for one thing at a time, along with the first one that she had given him so his body relaxes and rests.

Now he was drinking one that she claimed would help with his internal ailments, and he guessed she was referring to the bruised bones that barely allowed her to walk or breathe. This was particularly bitter and she had to take it several times a day, which was a mini torture considering that these wounds would take even longer to heal.

He was washing his armor when he heard her scream.

“No! Go away, you can't be here!”

His skin prickled when she heard it. Had someone entered that place? An ally or an enemy? The great snake that was supposed to be the only one that could make someone else reach that place, Munda, hadn't moved from the rock it had spread on the day before, almost looking dead if it weren't for the hiss it left escape from time to time, maybe someone had found a way to enter without facing the great reptile?

“No! Get away!”

Wasting no time he dropped the piece of armor he was washing into the water and instead grabbed his sword, gripping it tightly and ran - or rather, he limped quickly - looking beyond the trees and bushes until he saw her midnight hair, covered with small flowers of various colors, and he went quickly towards her, who kept her fists clenched and her arms stiff down, slapping the floor with one foot while she kept yelling at whoever was there to leave.

But as he got closer to her, he still couldn't see anyone else; maybe it was some invisible person? It would not be unreasonable to think about that.

Finally, when he got to her side, he saw whoever caused her annoyance.

"This… creature…" she began, making an exasperated gesture with her hand at the wild boar that nonchalantly ate the blackberries from the orchard it raided "This annoying creature won't go away!" I've tried everything but it keeps coming back”

He looked at her in disbelief.

“So much fuss over a wild boar?”

“Is this the name of this demon spawn?” She asked him, looking at him intensely "Do you know him?"

"It's a wild boar, there are hundreds of them in the forest" he said more calmly, dismissing the accusation of her previous question.

“Hundreds?!” She gasped in disbelief.

"Calm down, just ... get rid of him."

“I´ve tried it! But this ... boar keeps coming back”

He let out an exasperated sigh, thinking of suggesting of making her pet snake eat the animal, but dismissed the idea as he thought the reptile was pretty useless when it don´t came to attacking and killing unsuspecting humans and their horses near the plateau of stone.

Since he first woke up he had only seen it move a few inches and change position, so another idea occurred to him.

“Can you hold it?” He asked him “with your ivy?”

She looked at him curiously and suspiciously, but instead of answering vocally, she raised a hand and made a few short movements with her fingers before clenching her fist, catching the animal that began to screech in panic.

He approached it, and with a certain movement, cut off it head.

When he heard her loud gasp he looked back and there she was, her brows furrowed, her eyes staked and both of her hands covering her mouth.

He looked back at the now dead animal, grabbed it head and raised it before asking.

“Do you know fire?”

.

.

.

Sasuke sat on a rock while at the same time bringing the now cooked boar meat to his mouth, biting off a large chunk and tearing it from the rest so he could eat it.

Sitting on another rock on the other side of the bonfire he had made, Hinata found herself with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed, looking at him with such intensity as if she wanted to make his head explode with just her powerful gaze.

She was upset with him, that was clear. Since he had killed the animal and cut its meat into smaller portions so he could stick them into branches and put them on the fire to cook.

The turning point, however, was when he gathered branches and leaves and started the fire that he had surrounded with rocks of different sizes as a barrier so that the fire did not spread.

Apparently, she could forgive him for killing an animal even if she was clearly against it, but lighting wood and using leaves as a burning material was where she drew the line, practically declaring enmity at the prolonged silence she had maintained.

It was funny to tell the truth, even if preparing that meat and the dressing he had bathed it with to give it a little more flavor had been torture for his sprained wrist, it was worth it if I could see her normally relaxed and smiling face distorted with annoyance and disappointment, her lower lip sticking out childishly.

Furthermore, and despite the wide variety of fruits she had been feeding him - more delicious than he had ever eaten - he had really missed the taste of meat on his palate.

“Hey!” He called her even though it wasn't necessary, since she hadn't taken her gaze from him for a second. "Try a little" he said, spreading some meat even though he was too far for her to reach.

That scandalized her.

“I will not do it!” She vigorously refused, looking quite offended by his proposal “I'm not a savage!”

"Me neither" he said, shrugging even though he wanted to burst in laughs at her expression.

“You are eating a living being”

“You eat the children of your plants, but I don't judge you for doing that”

The expression on her face finally overcame him, making him laugh.

With difficulty and care, he rose to his feet and walked around the fire, sitting next to her and extending with his good hand the piece of meat he himself had previously been eating.

"Try a little" he repeated, but she pursed her lips and turned her face away, refusing.

“No, I do not like”

"You can't say you don't like it if you haven't tried it yet" he told her, repeating the words his mother had repeated so much to the fussy eight-year-old he was.

But she kept refusing, so he took another approach they used to use with him when he was especially difficult to feed: negotiation.

"How about this" he began “If you try a little of this, I promise I won't complain and take all your strange meds even if they taste like hell itself, you don't have to like it, just try a little”

She looked at him scrutinizingly, apparently looking for some kind of dishonesty, but he just brought his injured wrist to the center of his abdomen, in a well-camouflaged dirty little manipulative move, which he knew was working when she looked at his wrist and then again to in his eyes.

“Just a little?” He nodded "And will you take the medicine without complaining?" He affirmed again.

Hinata closed her eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out again in the form of a long sigh.

She opened her eyes again, now with a look of determination and nodded.

He smiled and brought the meat to her mouth.

“W-wait!” she yelled, holding his wrist.

He was really having a hard time not laugh again.

Without letting go his wrist, she barely opened her mouth and bit into some of the meat, chewing it and stopping after swallowing it.

He looked at her expectantly, watching as she frowned again and sudden tears began to fall from her eyes.

Was it really that bad?

He began to feel guilty for forcing her to do so, but he was surprised when she now took a bigger bite, taking the meat from his hand to grab it herself, saying between sobs

"It's good!" she sniffed and cried harder as she ate more of it.

________________________

That night he woke up because of the pain that attacked his healthy wrist, grunting and looking for the reason for that, and when he looked at it, he was surprised and out of breath to see how a bracelet of branches wrapped him, which would not be a problem if it was not for the fact that they seemed to come straight out of his skin.

________________________

Another few days passed and he had kept thinking a lot about his situation.

Due to his suspicions, he decided to do an experiment.

For a few days he stayed especially close to her, touching her skin with his fingertips in the most subtle way he could, leading him to offer help during the moments when she did her self-imposed tasks that were not really necessary - there was not much to entertain herself with, he supposed — and despite confusion at his sudden need to help, she agreed and directed him what to do, frustrating him when any of those tasks kept him away from her.

But at the end of the day he touched her enough without going overboard - tapping her shoulder to get her attention or patted it awkwardly as he congratulated her with a "good job" - and then he walked away from her and went to the makeshift cot she had created for him, leaving her more confused than at first.

The first night he waited awake for something to happen, for the branches to start coming out or for his skin to turn green, he wasn't entirely sure what could happen, but he waited.

And he received nothing.

He repeated the experiment several more times and nothing happened, so he thought maybe it was a side effect of the last potion she had given him to drink? It would make sense that his body is no longer producing more vegetation by changing the type of medicine she was giving him, and it would also make sense that she did not know that effect as something out of the ordinary, since her own body seemed to produce by itself the plants that dressed her.

Then he forgot the topic, classifying it as a one-time occurrence.

Until he wasn't.

That morning, when he no longer had any kind of ailment and was beginning to feel he was finally regaining his strength, he had helped Munda - who, he learned, was really peaceful when he was not protecting the entrance to that garden - to get rid of the little debris that had stuck to him after his last shedding of skin.

"Good work," Hinata said, patting him on the shoulder as best she could since he was significantly taller than her “Munda's shedding of skin is usually a disaster because it is more resistant than normal, so I always have a hard time cleaning it when it's in season” she revealed, now with her hand fixed on his shoulder “you are very good at that”

He accepted her congratulations with a small hint of pride on her chest.

They passed the day with normally, and at night, while taking a bath in the lake, a sudden pain attacked his shoulder.

When he tried to move his shoulder in circles, he couldn´t, the pain and stiffness prevented him from the slightest movement, then he brought his other hand over said shoulder to try to massage himself, but when he felt his fingers prick, He stopped.

Surprised, he looked at his shoulder and couldn't believe what he saw: it was covered in thorns right where Hinata had touched it.

The fire of anger ignited in him and spread like forest fire, was that it? Her hands? Were her hands causing his body to produce leaves and thorns as if it were a simple plant? Although, now that he thought about it, he had been a fool not to realize it before, after all, she was nothing more than a witch whose hands could grow trees and flowers out of nowhere.

He had been fooled. He had let his guard down and this witch was turning him into another plant in her garden.

Who many more had she done this to?

He looked at the surrounding trees for the hint that any of them were once a man, but he had done his job so well that there was not the slightest trace of a previous humanity in them.

Angry, he left the lake and put on his pants, not caring they were dirty and dusty from the activities he had done that day. He dressed in his armor and took the sword with him, searching for Hinata and finding her, as always, in the center of the small flower-covered hill that surrounded her.

His quick and heavy steps caught his attention, turning and smiling at him when she saw him approaching, but that expression quickly changed when he entered, stepping carelessly on the flowers that she loved so much.

"Sasuk ..!"

"In two days we will leave," he interrupted, placing the sword under her chin and applying enough pressure so the tip dug lightly into her neck, hurting her “I have already lost a lot of valuable time with your stupid games, as of today, I command”

He turned around without giving her the opportunity to speak and went to the farthest part of that garden, where he found what seemed to be the oldest tree of all, the most leafy, where he sat down and pressed his back against it, crossing his arms with his sword still in his hand, quickly creating in his mind all the logistics of what he would do next.

______________________

The desperate neighing of Onyx woke him up.

He hadn't realized when he had fallen asleep, but it seems as if the apocalypse had taken place once he closed his eyes.

He blinked, trying to clear the blurry view of him until everything was terrifyingly sharp.

In front of him, Onyx kept crying, rising on his hind legs and then dropping the front legs in heavy blows, kicking up the dust with each fall.

It was daytime, he could tell, but the whole environment was so bleak that his brain had a hard time understanding it.

He looked around him, all the space that had previously been green and colorful had turned to the darkest gray he had ever seen. The trees shed their leaves at an impressive speed, the same ones that were now on the ground, surrounding him.

He tried to take one, but the blades were so brittle they broke with the simple touch.

"Onix, take it easy" But the horse ignored him; instead, he whinnied louder as if urging him to stop and then ran, leaving him behind.

He walked carefully, looking everywhere: the bushes were dry but still held some of their fruits, of which he took one and put it in his mouth only to spit it out instantly, disgusted by the horrible taste of the previously delicious blackberry had taken. As he walked, a foul stench began to fill his nostrils, aggravating the closer he got to the lake, until he realized that was where it came from. The waters, previously clean and clear, were now as black and thick as tar.

What was happening?

It didn't take long for him to find the cause.

Still on the small hill was Hinata, motionless and with her head bowed, the flowers around her were wilted. Munda surrounded the hill, making a great circle with its whole body, as trying to be a wall of protection for her owner.

The great snake gave him a warning hiss, glaring at him, now with both of its healthy eyes, as if it was challenging him to come closer.

Even with the threat of the reptile, he did, he knew how protective he was, but he had learned that in here Munda was more like a puppy playing at being brave than the gigantic and terrifying snake really was.

Already within the circle of protection of him everything was more horrible, here the flowers were not withered, and instead they seemed burned. Hinata's body remained immobile, not even seemed to breathe, and when he surrounded her and was face to face with her, he was surprised by the horrible state that in just a few hours she had gotten.

Her skin was as gray as the rest of the earth, her previously pink lips were now dangerously close to black, almost all the flowers in her hair and crown had lost their petals and the ones that remained would fall at any moment. Her eyes were open and she kept them that way, without blinking, and the only sign that told him there was still life in her was the trail of tears that fell without stopping.

He crouched in front of her and called out, but he didn't get the slightest bit of recognition from her.

He grabbed her face and winced at the ease of movement he had from her, even if her body seemed stiffer than could be possible.

Then the dark green trail that fell from her throat to her abdomen caught his eye, and he felt as if he had been hit with the strongest metal as he remembered what he had done.

Was this his fault?

"Hinata," he called her, lifting her face so he could look into her eyes, which seemed to be empty. "Hinata, I'm sorry."

But his attempts were in vain because she did not respond or make the slightest movement that indicated she would do it at some point.

Desperation began to fill him and he didn't know what to do, stroking her face and trying to wipe the tears away, but they kept falling and instead, sliding over and around his thumbs, mocking his unsuccessful attempts to stop them.

Then, in a moment of utter despair he did something he had only thought would happen in his dreams, and kissed her.

His lips froze over the cold, chapped of hers, and all ambient sound that he had previously not actively noticed disappeared. He made no move, just stood with his lips joined, praying inside his mind for a reaction, until her lips trembled.

One sob left them, then two, until it was totally a symphony of wailing.

He hugged her and pressed her to his chest, quietly apologizing to her and preferring to hear her cry than remain in the deathly silence of moments ago.

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

Recovery was slower than he could have imagined. While it took less than one night to produce the disaster, fixing it was a matter of a long time.

She avoided talking to him and he couldn't blame her, not after all that he´d caused.

She was just getting back to her normal color and at the same time so did her garden, slowly returning to the green it was when he had arrived.

He hadn't given her a reason for his action in the first place, and he didn't think he'd do it sometime soon - never, if he could.

He just helped her silently, discovering that when he kissed her, she recovered a little more.

So he kept doing it, morning, afternoon and evening, until the pink on her cheeks appeared and the flowers in her hair began to bloom.

That, however, came at a price, and it didn't take long for him to realize that the mere touch was more powerful than that of her fingers.

It first reflected on his nails, which turned brown and their textures became like that of a tree trunk. Then on his chest, where leaves and thorns came out again.

It was a much faster process than he had thought.

"I think we can leave tomorrow" were the first words she spoke to him after days of silence, smiling shyly at him, speaking in a low voice.

He nodded as best she could, his neck stiff from the changes taking place in him.

That day his feet stuck to the ground, and pulling them off felt as if he had lost a limb.

"Sasuke" Hinata called him the next morning, worried about what she was seeing. "Since when has this been happening?"

He looked at her, but he didn't answer.

He was still lying on his grass cot, trapped by the ivy that had tightly encircled his arms, torso, and legs to keep him in place.

"Wait." The desperation in Hinata's voice was palpable, but he could barely recognize anything.

With her hands, Hinata touched the plants on top of him, but was surprised to see that instead of obeying her and disappearing, they seemed to tighten around Sasuke.

She looked at her hands without understanding what was happening and tried again, her eyes clouding over as she obtained the same result as the first time.

The tears left her eyes and the sobs soon appeared the more she tried and failed, becoming more energetic and miserable with every second more.

"Hinata," he called out, barely a hoarse whisper as he felt a new plant grow from his stomach and slide its roots through his esophagus, slowly exiting his mouth "There is no time for me…”

“Do not!" She shouted shakily" Don't say that!”

“S. Save them ... my people ...” he said, barely breathing.

"I-I will, but-but first ..." A sob interrupted her "you first..."

Sasuke wanted to deny, but he had neither the strength nor the mobility to do so.

"There ... there is ... no time for ... me" he repeated.

“Sasuke”

“Please”

Without finding the words to answer him, she just nodded.

Sasuke smiled and looked at her, grateful as a single tear slid down the side of his face as more roots came out of his mouth.

"Thank you" he said, his voice cracking, closing his eyes, "I lo ..."

But he couldn't finish his sentence, losing the last breath he had and finally letting the roots slide out of his mouth and dig into the ground beneath him.

A heartrending scream came from Hinata's mouth, the loss, for the first time in hundreds of years, completely ripping her apart.

She cried over his body, feeling a pain much worse than that of a few days ago completely invade her, feeling again how she was fainting rapidly.

But she still had one last promise to keep.

Unwilling to leave him, Hinata placed both hands on the ground and gathered all of her strength, screaming as she transferred her power beyond the forest, filling all around with the life that he had come looking for.

The earth shook and great thorny walls rose above all of her garden, joining in the center without closing completely, and leaving a small gap through which the sunlight entered.

Exhausted, she walked to where Sasuke's body lay covered in roots and she dropped down beside him, placing a hand on his chest, slowly closing her eyes and melting into him.

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

From the highest tower of the Uchiha castle, the cries of the courtesans invaded the room of King Itachi, whose body was covered by a white sheet as his court surrounded him.

"You did it, my king," Kakashi whispered, watching from the window as the kingdom began to fill with the vivid green of the growing plants and the colorful buds of flowers and fruit that followed them, though his attention was really fixed on the large bud that it had formed in the farthest part of the forest.

While, at the gates of the kingdom, Onyx the steed without his king arrived.

@sasuhinamonth

#sasuhina month #sasuhinamonth2021 #day 5 #sasuhina #queen of the garden #theres a spanish vertion #but im not publishing it here #too long

[mirohlixie]

Never Enough (Hyunlix) Pt. 1

Pairing: Felix x Hyunjin Word Count: 2.4K Genre: AU, love, dystopia

Synopsis: In a world where being different from the conventional gender and sexuality rules means death, the gay youngster Felix struggles to hide his true sexuality. He is doing well until he meets Hyunjin, an undercover hitman hired by the government to get rid of all the "different" people in hiding. The moment the two meet each other, both of their lives change forever, but will it be enough?

Content warnings: AU, homophobia, discrimination against LGBTQ+, explicit language.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~He looked up from his notebook, out of his window. The wind was blowing and rain was falling out of the sky in thick drops. The poor boy got bored from being inside all the time, but the weather wasn’t very forgiving. It had been like this for a couple of days now and it didn’t look like it was going to change soon.

“Felix,” a soft voice called from downstairs. “Do you want to come down for tea?” It was the same old story every day. He’d be in his room, usually reading or working on song lyrics all day. Some time afternoon his mother would start to wonder what he was doing up there all the time, and call him down for tea. He always said no, like he was going to do now. He simply didn’t feel like being among other humans.

All Felix longed for was to take a long walk, anywhere. Just him and nature and no other people. A place where he could be alone with his thoughts without feeling like it was a sin to even have them cross his mind. Because that was what his thoughts were: a sin. A boy like him should not be thinking about the things he thought of. Even better, it was forbidden. If anyone ever found out about the words dancing in his mind, he’d have to pay with his life.

At first, Felix had been pretty good at hiding his thoughts. He’d be among his family and laugh and have fun with them. However, as he grew up, he found it harder and harder not to let the words slip his mind. The safe storage that was once his head slowly began to deteriorate. His subconscious longed for the freedom that would come with the exposure of his secret. However, that moment could never exist. He didn’t want to die. Not because of this.

“Please Lix,” his mother called again. “You’re never downstairs anymore. You’re withering away in that room of yours. Wouldn’t you like to be with us just for a little? Just one cup of tea?” Felix knew his mother would keep asking until he’d give in, and he couldn’t give in.

Especially today his mind had been like a time bomb. Every time he looked in the mirror he had to withhold himself from saying those forbidden words. From saying those words that would essentially cost him his life. He could not even imagine what it would be like if he was among others. If his reflection alone was already enough to make him break, then what would a living human being do to him? How would he ever be able to resist their curiosity?

“No,” he called down. “I’m about to go on a walk,” it was an impulsive excuse and he hadn’t known why exactly he’d thought it would be the perfect one. However, now he’d already said it and had to follow through with the plan. He hopped from his bed and quickly put on a pair of shoes. He looked out the window, sighing when he saw the rain, and sprinted down the stairs to put on a coat.

“In this kind of weather?” His mother questioned, raising an eyebrow as she saw her son appear in the hallway. “It’s raining cats and dogs.”

“I know, but I like the rain,” Felix lied. “So I’m going on a walk. I’ll be back before dark, mom,” he zipped his coat and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek before walking out the front door.

The cold wind hit him in the face like a brick and he had to take a deep breath before he could find the courage to actually walk down the driveway and leave the perimeters of his parents’ house.

“I like the rain,” he muttered to himself as he pulled the hood of his coat closer to his face and started to conquer the strong winds fighting for dominance over him. “I’m such a bad liar.”

It was empty in the streets, which was perfect. The last thing Felix needed now was encountering someone he knew. He wanted to be alone. Completely alone. The rain started to get less intense the more he walked, which was a welcome change. The wind still stayed the same, pulling at his clothes and trying to push him back towards his home.

He loved the thundering sounds the moving air brought with it. It completely masked any other sound coming from him and his surroundings. It made him feel safe; safer than he was at home. Safer than he was anywhere.

Here he’d be able to speak his mind without care. Here he’d be able to be himself just for a second. He took a deep breath, looked around him, and smiled a little before uttering the dangerous words.

“I am different,” he whispered at first. Fear grabbed him by the throat as he checked his surroundings again, afraid someone would’ve caught him anyway, but there was nobody there. “I like men,” he elaborated. “I am a sinner because I like men instead of women,”

To Felix, it was hideous that this detail about himself could cost him his life. Unfortunately, it was the truth. Having a sexual and romantic attraction to people of the same sex was not allowed. Falling for or having a relationship with someone of the same sex was not allowed.

It was crazily old-fashioned and absolutely the highest form of discrimination, but yes; your sexuality could get you killed. If you were pleaded guilty of being "different", it meant immediate death, as ridiculous as that may sound. No trial, no bail. If there were enough grounds to convince the government you were gay, you were done for.

Not only men loving men or women loving women suffered this tragic and brutal fate, but every person who was different. Every person who didn't fit the standard boxes of society, the standard boxes being women loving men and men loving women. There was no room for nuisance.

Why these rules existed in today’s day and age? Nobody knew. The simple answer was that it had always been like that. People who were different were a threat. People who were different didn't have a right to walk this earth. To them, the lives lost did not matter, which was absolutely disgusting in Felix’s opinion.

To them, it was merely a way to make sure the earth wouldn’t get overcrowded. The way Felix saw it, they were just scared of change. In ancient times it had been normal to be a man romantically involved with another man. It was the modern-day society that had made it into a sin. The few people who rejected this idea and showed resistance awaited the same fate as these "different" people. Nobody was safe, so it was better to pretend you agreed with it.

Felix's parents also lived by these rules, so ever since Felix found out his preference wasn't towards women, he'd hidden from them. They couldn't find out, or they would probably report him to the state. Their own son meant nothing to them if he was different.

Of course, tracking down every single "different" person was difficult, and seemed nearly impossible, since you’re not exactly born with a sign on your head that says you’re different. However, the government had its ways to track you down, may it be legal or illegal. These ways were sneaky and far from agreeable. You never knew who you could trust and who not. Living in this world was a true hell for people like Felix, but there was nothing they could do.

“I’m fucking different!” Felix shouted into the wind, knowing nobody could hear him here with the wind raging around him. “I like men and there’s nothing I can do!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure you accept the terms and conditions of this task?” The lady on the phone had asked him for the tenth time. “Are you sure you are willing to take this task upon you and deal with the consequences that may come with it?” Hyunjin had nodded before realizing she would not be able to see that.

“Yes, ma’am,” he’d said. “I accept all of it. I am ready, I promise,” he’d looked at the booklet that had fallen onto the doormat this morning. He’d been waiting for it for a while now and today had been the day it had finally arrived. He’d almost jumped when he’d heard the sound of the booklet hitting the fabric. It was dumb and he knew that, but to him, this seemed like the only option.

It was fucked up, Hyunjin knew that and would never try to deny it. However, he needed the money he’d get out of it. Not for himself, but for his mother. His dear mother, the woman who’d raised him to be the man he was today, was a sickly woman now. She’d been diagnosed with a rare disease that could only be helped with expensive treatment. Without the treatment, the chances she’d not see the end of the year were very big. If she did get the treatment, it would give her the rest of her life back.

That’s all Hyunjin wanted for her; She had to see him grow up. She had to see her grandchildren grow up. He couldn’t lose her, not in a society like this one.

“Ten grant,” he’d whispered to himself. That was what he’d receive if he went through with this. It was enough to pay for his mother’s treatment and her medicine. It would be enough to keep her alive. It would cost him a part of himself, but that would be worth it if he was able to save the woman who meant the most to him. But was ten grant enough in exchange for a life? Because that was what this task entailed…

The task he was about to accept, was that of a hitman. The government granted rewards of ten thousand dollars to those who were willing to go undercover and find out which members of their society did not follow the law concerning sexuality. Well, those who found them received only three thousand. Those who then also managed to end those so-called moles would receive the full ten grant. His job would be to be among the people and find out who was hiding their true, forbidden sexuality and to simply end their lives.

The government needed undercover hitmen like this because there were way too many moles for their normal police forces. The standard procedure was execution in the name of the state, according to the legal methods, like they to criminals who got the death sentence

These hitmen were different. Their methods were technically illegal, but if they got caught, they would be let off again before they could even go into trial. The government would close their eyes for crimes like the murder of these moles as long as the hit-man had an official permit given to them by the state. These hitmen were highly necessary since there was no way the government could punish every single mole, and other than that they'd gotten better at hiding their true nature as well.

“Then I would like to congratulate you with your permit,” the lady on the phone had said. “You know how it works. Find someone you think is suspicious, figure out whether they genuinely are or not, and then eventually end their life. Send the body over to the morgue and receive your ten grant. Try not to get caught. It's such a hassle to make them drop the charges,” she’d explained once more. “If you have any questions, do call us. The last thing I would like to add, is that the most important aspect of this job is instinct. Make sure you follow it. Don’t be a fool. Don’t ignore the signs.”

“But how will I be certain if it’s one of them?” Hyunjin had questioned. That’s what the moles were often referred to: them. Not us, but the other.

“You will know,” the lady had assured him. “I promise. I have to move on to the next call now. I wish you much wisdom and luck, Hwang Hyunjin. We are looking forward to seeing your first catch soon,” and with that, she’d ended the call. Hyunjin had sat on the couch and contemplated the idea for the rest of the morning, fumbling around with the permit that had just been activated in his hands.

Was he actually going to kill someone only because of their sexuality? He knew they were deemed evil. They were different, that's what everyone had always been told over the past centuries. They didn’t deserve a place in this society, according to the government. It was never completely explained why this difference from the rest was such a bad thing. They were still people, weren't they? Was he really capable of taking another human’s life?

He shook the thought off as he was walking outside in the rain with his hood pulled over his hair a couple of hours after the call. He needed the money, so he was going to succeed. He didn’t care how much it would cost him, or how long it was going to take him to find someone. He was going to try the best he could and that was all he could promise right now. After all, it would take a while before he’d find the first person, wouldn’t it? They were called moles for a reason.

That’s what Hyunjin thought before he saw him; the person who would change his life forever. The person that truly caught his attention. At first, he thought he was just looking at the back someone who had lost his mind, yelling meaningless words into the wind, but when he listened more closely, alarms should’ve started to ring immediately in the back of his head.

“I’m fucking different!” The figure with the blonde hair yelled into the wind, probably thinking nobody would be able to hear him over the loud thundering of the air. “I like men and there’s nothing I can do!” Hyunjin bit his lip. Bingo, he thought. This was going to be easier than he’d expected.

#skz #skz scenarios #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #bang chan #bang chan smut #hyunlix #skz hyunlix #skz packs #stray kids felix #lee felix #stray kids lee felix #skz lee felix #hwang hyunjin #skz hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #skz hwang hyunjin #stray kids hwang hyunjin #hyunjin scenarios #felix scenarios #lee felix scenarios #hwang hyunlix scenarios #felix au #skz au #au #alternate universe #hyunjin au #stray kids au #skz gay #gay romance

[dramionediscussion]

I have a concern about Dramione fandom, which has been slightly troubling me lately. I am not saying that this is something that is going to happen, or is happening already. Naturally, I don’t think this is entirely unfounded either (hence why I am writing this), but I am just one Dramione shipper. If this doesn’t resonate at all, that’s totally fine! We are all aware of extremely boorish and fatuous anti-Dramione people, who troll, defame and accuse Dramione of being all sort of things. We are also probably all quite familiar with their claims about the ship and its shippers. You know, Dramione promotes racism, sexism, classism, unhealthy and abusive relationships, it’s all about bashing Ron, it’s just cuz actors are hot, we should all pay homage and tribute to canon relationships (and their shippers naturally), and offer respect and fawn over everything “canonical” for gracing us with all this HP bounty, and so on. This time I am not going to try to offer rebuttals, or deconstruct their arguments, or even psychoanalyze them more than absolutely necessarily. I am not even particularly upset about them (anymore). They are categorically wrong, their arguments are never insightful or thoughtful. Most importantly, they are disingenuous in their argumentation and especially about their own motives. I believe, the best course is ignore them totally. What I am afraid, that these endless arguments, relentless belittling, and even harassment of which they never seem to grow tired off actually might change Dramione shippers and community as well. Not in a conscious way, but constantly being on a defense can make people internalize some of these arguments. Or rather their premises and assumptions on which they are based upon. I don’t mean it, that Dramione shippers will suddenly wake up, and shout out that Dramione was actually all about abusing women all along, or anything like that. What I mean is, that people rather internalize certain assumptions, framing and logic chains, which are build into those arguments. In a defense, they start define what Dramione really means, what is ideal Dramione, what is acceptable or desirable in Dramione fics, in accordance of these attacks, by unconsciously defending their ship from slander. As an example, Romione people constantly accuse that Dramione is either all about mindless “Ron bashing”, and Dramione shippers rightly say that it’s not what Dramione is about at all. What I am afraid, that people might internalize the point, that “Ronbashing” is something truly heinous, and what should be avoided at all cost. And as a corollary to that, ideal Dramione fics are those in which there’s no conflicts between Ron, Draco and Hermione. Or the very least they are resolved in a conciliatory and harmonious manner. Or it is lazy Dramione writing, when Ron is “villainized”. Or another thing they say is, that Dramione just about glorifying and eroticizing abusive relationships. This might lead that some of us accept the framing, that describing or narrating something is totally same as promoting and celebrating it. If they accept it, then it’s quite easy to logically infer, that if Dramione is not defined by Draco abusing Hermione (it’s not), then it must be defined negatively as its opposite. Meaning that something cannot be genuine or accepted Dramione, if it contains an abusive Draco. Or as an induction from that, if a fic has an abusive Draco, it also must contain a redemption arc, and Draco has to change and make amends, and redeem himself as a person. That we start to define Dramione being really about redemption or redeeming, forgiveness, changing oneself for the better, etc (as contrary to their claim that its about abuse). Don’t get me wrong, I’d say the majority of Dramione fics contain a redemption story arc, and Draco either has changed or actively changes his views and behavior. It’s a common and wonderful theme, and almost all my favorite Dramione fics have those, and I like just for its own skae. Yet it’s not something what either makes or unmakes Dramione. There’s a minority of fics, in which Draco is never truly redeemed (usually a lust-filled obsession, with many many cognitive dissonances, which he never solves), and they are as Dramione as anything else, and some people enjoy writing them and some people reading them (or at least some of them). Also, a lot of gray areas, which can be quite delightful, thought inspiring and invigorating (and hot!).  Speaking for myself, I’d say maybe 1/20 of my favorite fics have this dynamic or something close to it. Maybe 33% are more in that gray area. It doesn’t do any harm, there’s nothing ethnically wrong about it, I never idolize that behavior. If Romione stans have problem with that, they can go away, cry and tell that Rupert Grint body pillow all their troubles, because I don’t give a damn. People don’t emulate or model their behavior or preferences from YA fanfics or smut in that sense in any significant numbers. If someone does, I am sorry to say, but you probably weren’t going to make it anyway. It’s the irl version of getting a comedy death in a video game, like if a smarter-than-average mushroom hypnotizes you and makes you walk into a bottomless pit, or something like that. Your problems are deep seated and numerous, which unless dealt with, will be triggered by just about anything. Its pure happenstance whether it will be Harlequin novels, Dramione fanfiction, urban legend your cousin told you, or whatever. This could go on, but seriously, Dramione shippers have nothing to prove or even argue with those antis. It’s just bottomless pit of resentment, what they twist into moral arguments, which they think will signify us as the worst kind of people, and they themselves as the most virtuous. Their antipathies are petty and personal concerns, in which they feel like the universe and the abominable cabal of Dramione shippers have cheated them out of all that attention, writers, fans, fics, and deference they feel entitled to. It’s natural for humans to cloak often even most pettiest and nonsensical slights and resentments into whatever moral or ethical language and arguments the society they live holds sacred. If we would be living in the 1600s, they’d be scouring the Bible for anti-Dramione arguments, and denouncing Dramione as unchristian and sinful. By their stated “moral standards”, there are a lot more “vile” and “harmful” ships out there, but they aren’t functionally bothered by them at all. So, unless really prompted, they don’t even bother to denounce them, little alone wage this never-ending crusade against them. That’s because they aren’t popular enough to trigger that envy and resentment (Hermione with basically any of the worst Death Eaters). Or they feel that they don’t compete in the same niche as their ship does (Drarry as an example). I wouldn’t be writing this, if this discourse with Antis hadn’t affected me as well. There was a time, I wanted to understand what they were about, and I read a lot of their grievances and internal discussions. While reading I couldn’t help but to be on a defense all the time. Sort of refuting and counter-arguing against their points in my mind, while reading their diatribes (I tried to start a dialog couple of times, but I was always totally ignored, which I am thankful for them in retrospect). Conditioning myself with that for long enough, I did notice that I started to feel a bit hesitant about certain tropes and Dramione fics I hadn’t before. I was thinking about Dramione like a defense attorney, excepting to be attacked from all directions. It actually took me quite long to figure this out, and how the bile of HP fandom had in subtle ways affected my sense and tastes without my really noticing.

Anonymous submitted: P.S. I wrote that previous submission, and I have to add, that I am not trying to say this is happening or pointing any fingers at anybody. There’s perfectly good reasons to not like any Dramione fic, as a Dramione shipper, in which Draco is irredeemable or evil. There’s perfectly legitimate reasons to prefer fics, which Ron is portrayed as a positive influence for Dramione. People can arrive to same conclusions or tastes from countless different routes and reasons. The negativity that the HP fandom and Romione shippers especially grace us just got to me in a way, that I wasn’t even cognizant about. It might be the case for others as well, if their own self-reflection so deems (or not).

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

I agree with every point you’ve made. While it’s obviously okay to discuss why you like Dramione (or any other pairing), people also need to remember that they don’t have to justify why they ship Draco and Hermione together or prove (especially to haters as they’re not worth anyone’s time) that their OTP makes sense because even if it makes no sense whatsoever, it’s still fine to ship it as long as you can differentiate between fantasy and reality. I don’t know about you, but when I started shipping Dramione, it was like love at first sight. I didn’t think if they made sense, didn’t spend hours trying to make a list of arguments for Dramione, I just suddenly loved the idea of them together, believed they belonged together, and that was and still is enough. I don’t need to justify why I ship them, and neither does anyone.

It’s true that in most Dramione fics, Draco gets redeemed. It’s also true that most shippers prefer fics in which Draco gets a redemption arc, but we have to remember that there’s nothing wrong with enjoying fics in which Draco’s irredeemable or his relationship with Hermione is toxic. I myself read such stories from time to time. I like a good Ron bashing fic every now and then as well, and there’s nothing wrong with that either because it’s all fantasy, it’s all fiction, which, I believe, most Dramione shippers are aware of and accept. Hopefully, it won’t change, and no one will ever try to tell others what should and shouldn’t be written or what is and what’s not allowed in a Dramione fic.

- AgnMag

#dramione #anonymous #HP Fandom #submission

[richincolor]

New Releases for the Week of May 3, 2021

It's great to see so many new books hitting the shelves this week. I know I've been waiting for several of these and am happy to be able to finally read them. 

The Ones We’re Meant to Find by Joan He Roaring Brook

Cee has been trapped on an abandoned island for three years without any recollection of how she arrived, or memories from her life prior. All she knows is that somewhere out there, beyond the horizon, she has a sister named Kay. Determined to find her, Cee devotes her days to building a boat from junk parts scavenged inland, doing everything in her power to survive until the day she gets off the island and reunites with her sister.

In a world apart, 16-year-old STEM prodigy Kasey Mizuhara is also living a life of isolation. The eco-city she calls home is one of eight levitating around the world, built for people who protected the planet―and now need protecting from it. With natural disasters on the rise due to climate change, eco-cities provide clean air, water, and shelter. Their residents, in exchange, must spend at least a third of their time in stasis pods, conducting business virtually whenever possible to reduce their environmental footprint. While Kasey, an introvert and loner, doesn’t mind the lifestyle, her sister Celia hated it. Popular and lovable, Celia much preferred the outside world. But no one could have predicted that Celia would take a boat out to sea, never to return.

Now it’s been three months since Celia’s disappearance, and Kasey has given up hope. Logic says that her sister must be dead. But as the public decries her stance, she starts to second guess herself and decides to retrace Celia’s last steps. Where they’ll lead her, she does not know. Her sister was full of secrets. But Kasey has a secret of her own. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee Quill Tree Books

Noah Ramirez thinks he’s an expert on romance. He has to be for his popular blog, the Meet Cute Diary, a collection of trans happily ever afters. There’s just one problem—all the stories are fake. What started as the fantasies of a trans boy afraid to step out of the closet has grown into a beacon of hope for trans readers across the globe.

When a troll exposes the blog as fiction, Noah’s world unravels. The only way to save the Diary is to convince everyone that the stories are true, but he doesn’t have any proof. Then Drew walks into Noah’s life, and the pieces fall into place: Drew is willing to fake-date Noah to save the Diary. But when Noah’s feelings grow beyond their staged romance, he realizes that dating in real life isn’t quite the same as finding love on the page.

In this charming novel by Emery Lee, Noah will have to choose between following his own rules for love or discovering that the most romantic endings are the ones that go off script. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

They Better Call Me Sugar: My Journey from the Hood to the Hardwood by Sugar Rodgers Black Sheep

Growing up in dire poverty in Suffolk, Virginia, Sugar (born Ta’Shauna) Rodgers never imagined that she would become an all-star player in the WNBA (Women’s National Basketball Association). Both of her siblings were in and out of prison throughout much of her childhood and shootings in her neighborhood were commonplace. For Sugar this was just a fact of life.

While academics wasn’t a high priority for Sugar and many of her friends, athletics always played a prominent role. She mastered her three-point shot on a net her brother put up just outside their home, eventually becoming so good that she could hustle local drug dealers out of money in one-on-one contests.

With the love and support of her family and friends, Sugar’s performance on her high school basketball team led to her recruitment by the Georgetown Hoyas, and her eventual draft into the WNBA in 2013 by the Minnesota Lynx (who won the WNBA Finals in Sugar’s first year). The first of her family to attend college, Sugar speaks of her struggles both academically and as an athlete with raw honesty.

Sugar’s road to a successful career as a professional basketball player is fraught with sadness and death–including her mother’s death when she’s fourteen, which leaves Sugar essentially homeless. Throughout it all, Sugar clings to basketball as a way to keep herself focused and sane.

And now Sugar shares her story as a message of hope and inspiration for young girls and boys everywhere, but especially those growing up in economically challenging conditions. Never sugarcoating her life experiences, she delivers a powerful message of discipline, perseverance, and always believing in oneself. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Excuse Me While I Ugly Cry by Joya Goffney HarperTeen

Quinn keeps lists of everything—from the days she’s ugly cried, to “Things That I Would Never Admit Out Loud,” to all the boys she’d like to kiss. Her lists keep her sane. By writing her fears on paper, she never has to face them in real life. That is, until her journal goes missing…

An anonymous account posts one of her lists on Instagram for the whole school to see and blackmails her into facing seven of her greatest fears, or else her entire journal will go public. Quinn doesn’t know who to trust. Desperate, she teams up with Carter Bennett—the last known person to have her journal—in a race against time to track down the blackmailer.

Together, they journey through everything Quinn’s been too afraid to face, and along the way, Quinn finds the courage to be honest, to live in the moment, and to fall in love. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Hurricane Summer by Asha Bromfield Wednesday Books

Tilla has spent her entire life trying to make her father love her. But every six months, he leaves their family and returns to his true home: the island of Jamaica.

When Tilla’s mother tells her she’ll be spending the summer on the island, Tilla dreads the idea of seeing him again, but longs to discover what life in Jamaica has always held for him.

In an unexpected turn of events, Tilla is forced to face the storm that unravels in her own life as she learns about the dark secrets that lie beyond the veil of paradise—all in the midst of an impending hurricane.

Hurricane Summer is a powerful coming of age story that deals with colorism, classism, young love, the father-daughter dynamic—and what it means to discover your own voice in the center of complete destruction. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Indivisible by Daniel Aleman Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

There is a word Mateo Garcia and his younger sister Sophie have been taught to fear for as long as they can remember: deportation. Over the past few years, however, the fear that their undocumented immigrant parents could be sent back to Mexico has started to fade to the back of their minds. And why wouldn’t it, when their Ma and Pa have been in the United States for so long, they have American-born children, and they’re hard workers and good neighbors?

When two ICE agents come asking for Pa, the Garcia family realizes that the lives they’ve built are about to come crumbling down. And when Mateo returns from school one day to find that his parents have been taken, he’ll have to come to terms with the fact that his family’s worst nightmare has become a reality.

With his Ma and Pa being held in separate detention centers, Mateo must learn how to look after his sister and himself. The choices Mateo makes, and the people he turns to for help, might reunite his family… or tear them apart for good. With his parents’ fate and his own future hanging in the balance, Mateo must figure out who he is and what he is capable of, even as he’s forced to question what it means to be an American teenager in a country that rejects his own mom and dad. — Cover art and summary via Goodreads

Counting Down with You by Tashie Bhuiyan Inkyard Press

Karina Ahmed has a plan. Keep her head down, get through high school without a fuss, and follow her parents’ rules—even if it means sacrificing her dreams. When her parents go abroad to Bangladesh for four weeks, Karina expects some peace and quiet. Instead, one simple lie unravels everything.

Karina is my girlfriend.

Tutoring the school’s resident bad boy was already crossing a line. Pretending to date him? Out of the question. But Ace Clyde does everything right—he brings her coffee in the mornings, impresses her friends without trying, and even promises to buy her a dozen books (a week) if she goes along with his fake-dating facade. Though Karina agrees, she can’t help but start counting down the days until her parents come back.

T-minus twenty-eight days until everything returns to normal—but what if Karina no longer wants it to? — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

All Kinds of Other by James Sie Quill Tree Books

In this tender, nuanced coming-of-age love story, two boys—one who is cis and one who is trans—have been guarding their hearts to protect themselves, until their feelings for each other give them a reason to stand up to their fears.

Two boys are starting at a new school.

Jules is just figuring out what it means to be gay and hasn’t totally decided whether he wants to be out at his new school. His parents and friends have all kinds of opinions, but for his part, Jules just wants to make the basketball team and keep his head down.

Jack is trying to start over after a best friend break-up. He followed his actor father clear across the country to LA, but he’s also totally ready to leave his past behind. Maybe this new school where no one knows him is exactly what he needs.

When the two boys meet, the sparks are undeniable. But then a video surfaces linking Jack to a pair of popular transgender vloggers, and the revelations about Jack’s past thrust both Jack and Jules into the spotlight they’ve been trying to avoid. Suddenly both boys have a choice to make—between lying low where it’s easier or following their hearts. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Luck of the Titanic by Stacey Lee G.P. Putnam's Sons Books for Young Readers

Southampton, 1912: Seventeen-year-old British-Chinese Valora Luck has quit her job and smuggled herself aboard the Titanic with two goals in mind: to reunite with her twin brother Jamie--her only family now that both their parents are dead--and to convince a part-owner of the Ringling Brothers Circus to take the twins on as acrobats. Quick-thinking Val talks her way into opulent firstclass accommodations and finds Jamie with a group of fellow Chinese laborers in third class. But in the rigidly stratified world of the luxury liner, Val's ruse can only last so long, and after two long years apart, it's unclear if Jamie even wants the life Val proposes. Then, one moonless night in the North Atlantic, the unthinkable happens--the supposedly unsinkable ship is dealt a fatal blow--and Val and her companions suddenly find themselves in a race to survive.

Stacey Lee, master of historical fiction, brings a fresh perspective to an infamous tragedy, loosely inspired by the recently uncovered account of six Titanic survivors of Chinese descent.

#new releases #YALit

[snakeymay]

So here’s my question, thorfinn and askladd are interested in Vinland for different reasons, askladd interested cause the hero Arthur headed there to heal, and thorfinn interested cause it’s a land of lush lands. Imagine if they come across a woman from the future(she doesn’t tell them she from the future, just that she is from Vinland) and anytime she talks about America (vinland) it’s sounds like an advanced civilization. (Super tall buildings made of metal and glass. Army with hundreds of thousands of strong soldiers, food of all kind able to get and make. Including thousands of spices. Hundreds of kinds of beer and wine, beautiful women) she seems very educated, so educated some of the things she talks about make no sense. (Physics, advanced maths).

Wow, I really get surprised how many people can come up to such interesting ideas! I was thinking about it for a while, so I decided to write what I was able to create. I am nor American, neither english is my mother tongue, BUT I did my best to write these imagines. Again, I wanna thank you for such an idea to accomplish. I hope you will like it!

Askeladd x future! Reader

Askeladd

In a tavern

“ Young gal, how dare you to sit here alone that night so unprotected? You can end up being stolen or even worse...” The blonde man drank a pint of ale and exhaled looking at the young woman, she looked so strange to him. He has never seen such untimid women in his life. All in her nature was strange to him, alienlike. And these traits attracted him like a magnet.

“ I am Askeladd. Where are you from? Are you Brit?”

“ ( Name). No, actually, I am from... far away. America, do you know about it?” You nervously touched your hair, but kept a firm smile on your face. No, in those times with those men as him you couldn’t show any drop of fear. Not a bit.

“ Alas, I have no idea what you are talking about. What is it? Is it in Africa or...”

You interrupted him and replied “ A-me-ri-ca. It is across the ocean... like.. if you go to the west and..”

He was caught by surprise.

“ Vinland?”

“ Yes... uh, I think you call it like it”

“ How did you come here? No, what is it like?” He drank another pint. His sight was glued to you. You felt good, all the attention, so sheer and pure, of such a fine man, was all for you. You didn’t know why he was so curious, bur you filled your lungs with air and started speaking.

“ It is massive with cities”

“ Cities?”

“ Yes. There are a lot. From coast to coast. Our houses are tall and... we can get.. water anytime!”

“ How come?” His tipsy look sobered up in a second. Bloody hell, water anytime!

“ I don’t know. It is all about the canalization system”

“ Can.. Canalization system?”

You started showing the pipe shapes, he laughed at you because your gestures seemed to him reavealing and vulgar. You blushed and realised that you were speaking from a man from the 11th century and decided to switch the topic. What would interest a mercenary?

“ We have good medicine”

“ How good, (name)?”

“ Like, healers can help many people, childrrn don’t die. We live in warmth and...”

You how the look of curious changed to rage and confusion. At the moment you felt that your time, 21st century - is the best time to live. Now you sit with a fine man, but you couldn’t survive here for a day. You stopped talking, but he asked you again.

“ How good?”

“ No one dies, almost. But it is progressing, getting further..”

“ Was it the same way like about 30 years ago?”

“ I think so, it depends”

“ I don’t know wether your words are true or not. But if I had a chance to get to the place you are talking all this evening about-“

He seized his cup, looking into his turbid drink.

“ (Name), If it is real. I am glad to know this cruel world changed at least”

You averted your eyes. You touched something in him.

“ It didn’t, but it is another story to tell, Askeladd”

Askeladd’s voice changed. Stern and serious, he took your hand in his and look straightly into your eyes. You became numb. Ah!

“ (Name), if you stay here I will buy a place in the inn for you. Just tell me more about this A-me-ri-ca?”

Thorfinn x Future! Reader

Iceland, at Thorfinn’s home

“ Woman, how can you walk like that? It is still snow outside! You could even die near our front door!” Ylva coated you with several wool blankets and you stick to the hot clay cup filled with fish broth. You don’t remember what happened to you: you just fell asleep and you woke up here, among the endless fields of snow and sharp mountains, just in your light T - shirt and shorts. And you have no idea how these people found you , but they saved you, fed you, gave you clothes and more. Gave you one more day to live.

“ I-I am s-sorry”

“It is ok, Ylva. You have children to put in bed. I will look after the guest.”

“ Thorfinn... put her in my bedding. Me and Ari will sleep with kids”

She whispered to him.

“ Don’t let happen what happened when our father was here...”

“ I won’t”

She nodded and went away, taking her kids in another room. You stayed on your place, sitting near the hearth. So warm...

The man, named himself as Thorfinn, sat in front of you. He seemed to be so indifferent to you, but he had just no idea to start a conversation with a woman who is such in a bad condition. You kept silent but he was near. After some time you felt better and you asked him, trying to sound as good as you could.

“ Where am I?”

He nodded, his brown eyes blistered with fire flames. He looked so handsome you thought, but his face and hands were covered with endless scars.

“ Iceland. In a village.”

“ I see... I am ( Name).”

“ Thorfinn. I am glad that my friend and I found you”

“ Yes”

You nodded and started looking around. Why is everything so old? What time of history.. is this?

“ Are you a warrior, Thorfinn?”

He sighed and looked somewhere far, somewhere his memories were. Far away”

“I used to be one. But all those stories are in the past. I am a merchant. A traveler as well.”

“ Where do you travel, Thorfinn?”

“ I traveled some places. Now I am aiming to sail to Vinland. It is in the west. They say these lands are lush and prosperous.”

“ Can it be.. uh? I am from this place, actually.”

“ Really? But.. is it true?”

He was marveled by your words. Surprisingly, he believed in your words without any shadow of doubt.

“ Tell me something about it, (Name). Сan people live here and never be afraid of hunger?”

You smiled again. These people think of such basic needs, and to have food for tomorrow is enpugh for them to feel safe.

“ Yes, they can. People even.. do other duties, there are little people who work in the farms, they earn their living another way.”

“ I see... is it that warm? Do you have snow like here?”

“ Oh, Thorfinn, Vinland is so wide, there are lands that have never felt snow on their soil, and there are territories which look like Iceland”

He opened his mouth.

“ But will there be any lands for my people to stay and have a good life?”

“ Yes, Thorfinn. It is so peaceful. We quarrell but in Amer- I mean Vinland, people of many ethnics live together at peace. And there are no slaves..”

“ It must be the safiest place to live, ( Name). But It sounds unreal, hm..”

You nodded tiringly. You got warm and now you just wanted to drown in the obvilion of sleep. Thorfinn saw it. He stood up and took your hand. How gentle he was to you. Now you saw him close. How gleamed his eyes, and how enthusiastic he was.

“ I want you to introduce to my friends tomorrow. One of them has been to Vinland. Will you go with me, (Name)?”

You whispered.

“ Yes, will..”

“ Then, all my thoughts of redemption were not in vain, I can fix all I had done”

You felt his heart bumping, his breath, he had something that worried him deeply. You put your effort and smiled again to him, for him.

“ Thorfinn, I promise you will.”

He brought you to your bedding. Finally, you had your sleep and it was the best sleep you had in your life.

#vinland saga #thorfinn #askeladd #askeladd headcanon #headcanon #Thorfinn headcanon #thorfinn imagine #askeladd imagine

[mithrilwren]

For the Soulmate AU prompt thing: shadowgast & 15 or 2

This one really ran away from me - I meant to write a scene, and ended up with a whole finished one-shot! I’ll post it on Ao3 later, but here you go! Thank you for your patience, having some pining Essek in recompense :)

soulmate au prompts: the one where you have your soulmate’s name written on your body.

—

Essek expected, for most of his life, that the day of his marking would be a joyous one.

When the cloth was pulled away, he gazed without worry on the script beneath - four simple letters, curved in elegant gold - and felt a rush of excitement swelling in his chest. To be given something all his own… some piece apart from the rest, to cherish and to long for… a great hope, not for his people, but for himself. It was worth far more to him than he knew before that moment.

“Bren,” he whispered aloud. A soft sound, not biting or sharp like his own name. Masculine, he noted hopefully, and his happiness grew.

Then he looked up, and saw the look in the Umavi’s eyes - or Mother, as he’d been taught to say, not by her - and what excitement had kindled within him withered to ash.

“No,” she said, with cold finality. “You will not speak that name again.”

“Why?” he asked, still too young to be wary of posing the question. His curious spirit had not yet been driven into the darkest parts of himself. He still considered civil disagreement an achievable goal.

He still believed that whatever he asked, he would be heard.

“It is a name that does not belong to this country.” But it belongs to me, a small voice within Essek cried out. “You will not lay claim to it. You will not speak it.”

Don’t be so naive. Nothing belongs to you alone.

Essek fingered the split sleeves of his tunic, the flowing silk caught at the elbow with silver thread, the golden glimmer of those four letters just below the crook, not dimmed in the slightest by the sheer fabric. “But… how can I hide this?”

The Umavi - Mother, Mother, he reminded himself - stood and turned away. “You have tailors to spare, ready at your call. Cover your arms and be done with it.”

The others of the Den knew, of course, that this was to be his day. He was of the age for it. The whispers started the moment they returned to the manor house, a quiet clamour of well mannered gossip spreading through the halls. Only the boldest stepped forward to ask directly, and the Uma- Mother brushed them off with a grimace of practiced heartache.

“Nothing but a burn mark,” she said, in that special soft voice, the kind that was meant to carry. “Blackened, and unfresh. I’m afraid the lover must have died long ago.”

And perhaps, in a way, her words were true. Something had indeed died that day: the one last dwindling hope of the Umavi, for himself. That if he could not be the recipient of an honoured soul, perhaps he could have been the concubine of one.

“How unfortunate,” the askers simpered, looking at him sidelong all the while, with pity in their eyes.

How he would rather have been called ‘unlucky’.

From that day on, Essek wrapped his arms in long mantles and dark sleeves, and scoured books for the word he dared not speak aloud. In all his searching, he found nothing. No historical figures, no linguistic root, no cause for the disgust in the Umavi’s - in Mother’s - eyes.

He asked his tutor, weeks later, and now desperate enough to set aside caution. The question was set under the guise of parsing some obscure tome, and he received a single word in reply, before the conversation faded into a disgusted silence.

“Zemnian.”

It was a disgust he couldn’t bring himself to share, though he knew in his marrow, without being told, that he should.

Looking back he suspected that conversation, in what was soon to be a schism between him and his community as wide as the Ashkeepers themselves, was the first crack.

—

There was a man, a new man, by the Martinet’s side at their second meeting. Dark black hair, fading to grey at the roots, and a cruel smile. No names were supplied, and none taken in return. That was expected. Essek still believed, at that time, that his anonymity was secure. He still considered his safety a guarded condition of the arrangement.

Still, the new man’s accent was strange, and though every oiled word he spoke oozed uneasiness into Essek’s throat, curiousity overrode courteousness by the end of the negotiation.

“I must ask,” he said, the arcanist’s chalk already slipped from his long sleeve, shadows of familiar circles and equations rendered dizzyingly mundane with the promise of more illicit knowledge to come. “Your way of speaking is… unfamiliar to me. Where do you call home?”

The man’s smile turned up and widened, so like a desert snake whose jaw unhinges to swallow its prey whole. “I am surprised you do not know it; an accomplished practitioner of magic such as yourself. My accent is Zemnian.”

For a moment, Essek’s heart seized in terror quite beyond the apprehension he already felt at the nature of the meeting. “I see,” he said softly, turning away before the tension in his jaw could betray him.

“Sir Thelyss… Essek,” came the accented voice again, “why do you ask?” And the fear grew, and grew, for if this man knew his name, and hadn’t been told…

But surely, then, the Martinet must have told him-

“I merely prefer to know a little of the men I do business with,” Essek said, “Mr. -?”

The Martinet regarded him sharply. Questioning was not part of his allowance of freedom, not at home, and not here. But Essek ignored the look and focused only on the other man, willing his hands not to tremble. If he did not ask, he could not know, and if he did not know, then how could he plan his escape?

“Ikithon,” said the man. “Trent Ikithon.” His smile widened all the more, and Essek smiled weakly in return, both relieved beyond measure, and deeply ashamed at his own foolishness.

Essek derided himself later that night, in the comfort of his own house. What a childish fear it had been: to believe that this man could have been his promised lover, in a sea of thousands.

But better that the lover really had died, as the Umavi claimed to her court, than to be bound to a man like that. Against all odds, to find the one he was meant for, and discover that person to be as heartless and cold-eyed as himself? What a pointedly cruel irony that would be.

Not that it mattered, truly. Essek was already quite comfortable in the knowledge that he would spend this life alone. Preferred the idea, in fact, over fate’s whim deciding his state of companionship.

It did not do to think too long on what had already been decided for him, and by who.

—

Essek met more with that accent, of course, over the years. As his position within the Dynasty expanded, so too did the breadth of his pool of liasons within the Empire. He spoke with many Zemnians, men and women and those without gender, but none bearing the name ‘Bren’.

Essek no longer hoped to find the one promised to him, though the mark had not faded from his skin, mocking him in the brief moments of bathing and undressing where he dared to bare his arms. Its presence meant the person was still alive, somewhere in the world. But again, it mattered little. His work was the only goal worth striving toward. Love was far from his mind.

Through his work, he also learned more of the customs and cultures outside the Dynasty. Premierely, that the soulmate mark was a peculiarity of the Beacons’ influence, and not an inherent biological process as he’d once assumed. No other races experienced the process, at least not naturally. Instead, they found their love willingly, without presumption or prescription in the choosing. It seemed to Essek a less orderly, but perhaps more romantic, way of doing things.

None within the Dynasty would ever receive a mark again. His own actions had seen to that. It was a side effect he hadn’t anticipated, too lost in the promise of all he could gain to truly grasp the implications of the Beacons’ absence.

He chose to believe it a blessing, once he had the presence of mind to consider the matter rationally. It was one more restriction of the state religion, gone. Freedom to choose, when there was none before. No more children made to feel ashamed of the shape of the letters seared into their skin - of something they could only hide, and not change.

Progress.

They said now that the only children who would receive a mark were the lost ones. That their first calling home would be the letters inscribed in their inner arms, where there had been none before: a badge to prove their right to belong to someone, somewhere. And now they belonged to a country as well, one that would welcome them home with open arms, regardless of the name they bore.

How times had changed since he was young.

Essek was loath to label the feeling in his chest when he thought of those children as ‘jealousy’, but it burned all the same.

The past is not important, he reminded himself, again and again, only the future, and put the thought out of his mind.

—

The red-haired human spoke with a familiar voice, as he held Essek’s very life in his hands, unknowingly offering up the means of his destruction in a soft accent Essek had once associated with hope.

Essek had no hope now. As the stranger held the Beacon aloft, Essek watched the foundations of his lie crumble from beneath him. Did this man - dressed in slave’s garb but standing so tall - did he know? He was of the Empire, or so he claimed. Was he sent by the Martinet?

This wouldn’t have been the first time in the last decade that things had shifted so dramatically without Essek being told. It seemed that all the promises the Empire had made to him were built on quicksand, and perhaps this was to be his final test. How much more was Essek willing to endure?

Anything, it turned out, for the Bright Queen named him as their chaperone, and he endured that indignity without protest, gathering favours all the while in the vain hope that it could save him when this all turned sideways. He stayed close, as close as he dared, and closest still to the man who spoke with Ikithon’s accent, and waited to see if his words held the echo of the Martinet’s voice as well.

Caleb.

It had not occurred to Essek to seek for Bren in decades, and so there was no disappointment in learning the name, and in learning more of him besides. An apt pupil, brilliant and eager, and even after weeks, Essek could suss no trace of the Assembly’s influence over his new charge.

The other things he learned of Caleb were far less important, and somehow, far more. That he didn’t shrink back from a challenge. That his hair often pulled from its tie in a most endearing way when his hands grew too restless. That he was braver than Essek by far, for Caleb no longer felt the need to cover his arms as he did when he arrived in Rosohna, to hide the shame etched into his skin. His scars, caught in brief glimpses over spellbooks and offered drinks, were horrific, and telling, and Essek wanted to learn more, share more, be more when he was with him. He had never wanted something like that in his life.

But there was something about the man, something Essek could not tear himself away from.

If this were another reality, he might have believed himself in love. But the name ‘Caleb’ did not belong to him. He could not bring himself to forget that. It assaulted him in his weakest moments: the knowledge that even if all he had done could be overlooked, even if every barrier between them was removed, it meant nothing. Caleb was out of reach, while Bren was alive.

That certainty was not an intellectual one, but emotional. It was born of years of smothered hope and longing. It belonged to the narrative of Essek’s life - inextricable, even if logic dictated that he’d made no bargain, signed no devil’s deal that prevented him from being with Caleb in a meaningful way. He had lived for so long in the knowledge that Bren was lost to him, and that that meant he would be alone, that to imagine anything else was impossible.

And still…

And still, Jester lent him a book, a month or so into their acquaintance, and insisted he must read it. He didn’t have time for such diversions, truthfully, but he read it all the same, because he found he could not say no to her. First in snatches, then with voracious abandon, by the end he was up till all hours turning the pages, so fast they might have caught fire. The prose was sparse, the descriptions obvious, but the story gripped him in a way he had never been gripped by fiction before.

The Courting of the Crick. An offensive title, hiding a more offensive story within. Ostensibly, a propaganda piece, condemning the bloodthirsty regime of the Dynasty while extolling the saving grace of the civilized Empire. Beneath, the tale of a Kryn woman, who dared to choose a life with the Dwendalian man she loved. She made no mention of the mark on her arm other than to say that she cared not for the name given to her, or the man who owned it. She elected not to be bound by tradition, or country, but by her own heart.

He had not realized, until reading that story, that there were others who might once have felt the same ache as him.

—

The first time Caleb showed Essek his scars properly was a week or so after the Nein had returned to Rosohna, following the peace talks. With no assassins at their door or cultists to quell, they could all collectively take a breath, and begin to sort out the shattered fragments of their former relationship.

Caleb arrived at his house alone, which was surprising to Essek. He could only conclude that the rest of the Nein didn’t know he’d come, because he did not believe Beau would have allowed him to without argument.

They stood in silence for a long moment, facing each other over the dining table where he’d once served cheese and crackers in a paltry imitation of good manners, to a group of people who had still trusted him, foolishly-

No, not foolishly. Hopefully. There was a difference. He had learned it the hard way. Destroying the hope of someone he cared for, it turned out, hurt immeasurably more than any other pain he’d caused in his life.

“I want to show you, so you understand,” Caleb said, as he removed his clothes. First his scarf, then his coat. The hostlers, the tunic, until only a thin undershirt remained. His arms fell loosely at his sides. No close examination was needed - Essek could see the precise lines very clearly from this distance, cuts so deep that neither time nor magic would ever heal the wounds.

“I gave everything of myself to Ikithon, willingly, without reservation, but when my usefulness to him waned, he found a new purpose for me. My body became an experiment, and it was more than I could bear. That was the first time I fought him, but it did not matter. He had my friends hold me down, and they did what he told them without question, because none of us dared refuse a single thing he asked of us. All the power was in his hands, always.” Caleb paused. “Do you understand?”

Essek wanted to nod, but he couldn’t stop staring at the lines - delivered by the despicable man he had worked for without coercion, solely for his own benefit. What was there to say?

When he didn’t respond, Caleb continued.

“You are in his clutches now. His hold over you remains as long as he is alive, and I think you know that. So I will warn you, Essek. There will come a time when he will ask something of you, and you will think that you cannot refuse. You will believe there is no other option. And you will be wrong. There is always another choice.”

“Even if that choice leads to my death?” Essek said.

“Yes,” Caleb answered, without hesitation, and began to pull his tunic back over his head. As his arms raised up, Essek caught the faintest glimmer of silver just below the elbow. Other lines, broken by scars, and so dim that one without eyes attuned to seeing in the darkness would likely have missed it, but-

All other thoughts flew away as Caleb stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Essek’s shoulders, pulling him close to his chest.

“Don’t let it come to that,” he murmured, and Essek shivered in his arms. “The world would not be made better by your death. And I- I would not be better.”

Then Caleb was gone, and Essek sat at the table alone, and thought in darkness, for many, many hours.

—

Months went by. The world changed, and didn’t. The Nein came and went, pastries were gifted, messages sent, fragile trust rebuilt. Essek stumbled, and pulled himself back up, and through it all Caleb was there to show him the way forward.

And through it all, Essek began to understand how to care for him as well.

Caleb returned with new magic to share, and Essek shared his time, and his mind, and his passion, and together they built a great many things - not hidden in secrecy and solitude, but eagerly shared. He learned how to make Caleb laugh, and counted that his greatest success of all.

And still…

And still, Essek counted himself blessed to be held in his esteem at all, and asked for nothing more. Deserved nothing more.

But, of course, Caleb’s impatience outgrew his own.

He had never kissed another soul in his life, but to be kissed was a magic of a new kind.

There was a twinge of guilt in the afterglow, but it swiftly faded in the too-short days before the Nein left Xhorhas again. Caleb bid him goodbye with a soft press of lips, and Essek couldn’t find it in himself to care about the name on his arm, when at last there was something real in the world to long for, a hope without equal despair: a love he had chosen, without being told.

The group returned a week later with their prize: the final Beacon, wrested from the grasp of the Assembly at last. Essek had known it was the purpose of their visit, and expected a summons to the chamber of the Bright Queen on their return, to share in the spoils and adulation heaped upon their shoulders. Heroes of the Dynasty, well and truly. Their reward would be immeasurably rich.

What he did not expect was Caleb’s bedraggled form appearing on his doorstep near to midnight. He was sopping wet from the evening downpour, and smiling happily. “Hello,” Caleb said, in that soft tone that never failed to make Essek’s ears warm, and let himself in.

He dripped rainwater all the way up to Essek’s laboratory, and Essek followed in his footprints, so accustomed to walking in Caleb’s presence now that he almost forgot there was a solution to his wet socks until they’d nearly reached the stairs. Shaking his head as he realized his error, he floated the rest of the way up, and avoided the last of the puddles.

Once settled, Caleb shrugged off his coat and threw it across a chair before pulling out five damp pieces of amber from his pocket. “I have something to show you,” he said, almost mischievous, and Essek leaned in closer as Caleb whispered a single word. A lead box appeared on the table before them. Carefully, Caleb drew back the lid, and Essek’s eyes widened.

There, in all its glory, was the final Beacon, the only one he knew of that remained untouched by the Dynasty’s hands. A true relic, steeped in the mysteries of the Age of Arcanum: all he had ever wanted. He started to reach out, but stalled his hand, turning his eyes instead to Caleb.

“Is this…?” he asked.

“I know the Cerberus Assembly did not uphold their end of the bargain, and you paid their price in full. It seems only fair that you should have the first crack at it.”

It was a kindness Caleb didn’t have to give, that Essek would never have expected after all he’d done, and for the first time in his life, Essek was the one to extend his arms. “Thank you,” he whispered, as Caleb stepped into them without hesitation, and didn’t mind the cold water seeping through his robes at all.

The next number of minutes were lost in the exhilaration of discovery, as he sunk his consciousness into the Beacon’s pull and was transported to a universe of possibilities he had never considered. Pasts and futures beyond his understanding floated through his mind, and by the time he emerged, Essek was giddy with excitement. By that time too, Caleb had shucked the last of his soaked clothing and stood by the table with arms and shoulders bare, the fond look in his blue eyes reflecting back the light of the crystal between them.

Another flicker caught Essek’s gaze. He frowned, staring at the inside of Caleb’s forearm that was currently braced on the table’s edge. A faint light was shining there beneath the skin, growing brighter and brighter with each passing second, until even Caleb took notice of the change. He glanced down, following Essek’s eyes to the spot of brilliance. “What on earth…”

Essek spun around the table, taking Caleb’s hand and turning his palm up, until they could both see the full length of the inscription: silver lines flowering from where the Beacon’s light fell, blooming to form five elegant letters.

“Essek…” Caleb said, reading and asking in the same breath. Essek shook his head, scarcely daring to breathe himself.

“Caleb,” he said, so quietly that no spy or sparrow could have heard him speak. “What does the name ‘Bren’ mean to you?”

Caleb didn’t answer, but his hand, still entwined with Essek’s, started to tremble as much as his own.

Fingers shaking, Essek reached up with his other hand, and began to undo the buttons on his cloak.

#critical role #shadowgast #essek thelyss #my writing #metaphors for being in the closet? in MY writing? #it's more likely than you think #i had SO much fun writing this omg