#‘i mean he put me in the torture dungeon in the first place but he also gave his life to save me so. not sure how i feel about that’

[fingons-rad-harp]

i have, in the past, said things like “love a good toxic yaoi but nothing will ever beat silvergifting so what’s the point” and i was right but waltjesse

waltjesse came close

[hornyhornyhimbos]

save a horse ride a cowboy was amazing oh my god i've reread it like 3 times the smut was perfection 😫 please tell me that the reader stayed with cowboy!steve they're so cute together

hehehe i gotchu girly

"A Lucky Shot" ~ S. Harrington

gif not mine

Summary: The aftermath of falling in love with a certain bull rider in a certain bar in a certain city in Indiana.

Pairing: Bull Rider!Steve Harrington x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3,990

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) protected piv sex, cowgirl activities, oral m!receiving, boot humping 🤭 oral f!receiving for like a split second, tiny mentions of food and alcohol, nicknames (sweetheart, princess, cowgirl; cowboy, daddy if you squint), blasphemy if you squint, explicit language, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: the Eddie, Tommy, and Byers' cameos have me crying 😭🤚🏻

Based On: the first part of this, which you can find here!

Originally Written: 03/16/2023 through 03/18/2023

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold (thank u for putting up with me LMFAO)

stranger things masterlist can be found here!

hornyhornyhimbos ask box can be found here!

Your legs carried you as fast as they could to the locker room. A mix of adrenaline and sweat was pumping through your veins. You didn't know much about bull riding, but you did know that a 90 was good. Really good.

The locker room was surprisingly empty when you ducked in. You figured the room would be filled with big, sweaty bull riders, but instead, you only found one—Steve. Just to make sure there was no one else around, you let your eyes dart through the room before sprinting toward him and jumping up into his broad arms.

"Jeez!" he shouted, though his hands were quick to meet your butt. Your lips met his, showering him with a thousand loving kisses.

"Mmm," he chuckled into your lips. He pulled away and met your pride-filled eyes. "What are you doing?"

Your lips traveled down to his neck, suckling on the spot you knew was most sensitive. "I'm initiating celebratory sex," you said straightforwardly.

His chest rumbled out a low laugh as he helped you back onto the floor. "Not in here, you're not."

"But-"

"No buts," he argued, his palms settling on your hips. "This is a public locker room."

"Exactly! Which means it's open to the public. I am a part of the public. Therefore, I can do whatever I want in here."

He shook his head in disbelief before leaving a kiss on your hair. "It also means it's open to other people of the public. Anyone could walk in at any time. I want my eyes and my eyes only to see what you have to offer."

You pouted, and he kissed it away just like he always did. One of his hands traveled up your hip, toward your ass, slipping inside your back pocket. "Plus, some of the other riders will probably be done with interviews soon. Not to mention, I need a shower real bad."

A cheeky gleam appeared in your eye. "Can I at least help you with that part?"

A light huff escaped his nose. "Go," he insisted, giving your butt a light tap. "I need you be there if they call my number while I'm gone. Go wait for me in the stadium."

You gave him a scowl, but pulled away toward the door. "You're cruel, Steve Harrington. Just cruel."

"Love you too."

You rolled your eyes before heading back in for a tight hug. "You did really good today. I want you to know I'm proud of you."

His hands rested on your face as he pulled you in for a soft kiss. "Thank you, sweetheart. I love you."

You pulled the cowboy hat off his head, setting it on your own. "Love you too, cowboy."

You sprinted toward the door as he hollered after you, "Hey, you better take care of my hat!"

The next forty-five minutes were absolute torture. Sure, you had Steve at your side after the first twenty, but it was killing you that the judges hadn't announced the winners yet. Steve urged you not to fret, telling you that whatever happens will happen, but you couldn't stop wondering if Steve had won first place.

Steve's hand rested on the small of your back, his lips pressed against the top of your head. "It's OK, really," he urged.

"It is not!" you argued, your leg bouncing nervously against the concrete floor. "What if you didn't score high enough?"

He chuckled, pulling you in close. "Since when did you care so much about bull riding?"

"Since I met you," you rebutted. "And since the grand prize is $25,000. Think about what you could do with-"

Feedback sounded over the stadium's loudspeaker, breaking you from your previous conversation. Your eyes went wide with wonder as a man's voice broke through the feedback.

"In third place, with 89.75, we have Eddie 'The Freak' Munson riding Radagast," he announced. The stadium was overcome with thousands of screaming fans, and your heart vibrated in your body from the noise. Eddie Munson was a crowd favorite for many reasons. He was never too busy to talk to his fans, he was probably the nicest rider aside from Steve, and his whole image was dedicated to being yourself. From the bright yellow Stetson he wore, to the flame red cowboy boots on his feet, even his costume was about being different.

Your hands flew to your mouth in surprise. "Babe, you beat Munson!" you exclaimed. Your feet kicked and bounced like a teenage girl who'd just been asked to prom. "That's huge!"

He let out an amused huff, kissing your head. "We don't know that. They suspected I would get a 90. Hasn't been confirmed yet."

You shrugged before turning your attention back to the announcer. "Don't ruin my hopes and dreams. You've still got a shot at winning this thing."

"In second place, with 91.5, we've got Tumbling Tommy Hagan riding Monster," he said, and once again, the arena rattled with screams. Hagan had a lot of fans too, but nowhere near as many as Munson. If there was one thing to know about Hagan in the arena, it was that he was the most competitive rider in the league by far, and his fans were nearly as competitive as he was.

Your heart thrummed inside you and your ears rang like they never had before. He just has to win. He's gotta.

The presenter's voice filled the speakers one last time, and you felt your fingertips go numb as you waited to hear the winner. "And, at an even 92, with the highest score we've seen all season, for a grand prize of $25,000 and a draft into the PBR if he accepts…" his voice drifted in suspense.

"Oh, fuck this guy!" you shouted in frustration.

"Baby," Steve whispered into your ear, leaving a loving kiss there. "It's OK." However, you knew by the way his eyes were darting around that he was just as nervous as you were. He never would've admitted it though.

You swore you heard the fans screaming before the man ever announced the winner. It felt a bit like slow motion as you jumped up from your chair and screamed along with them. The announcer's voice echoed, "Riding Sundae, Steve 'The Hawk' Harrington!"

Your lips met Steve's for a long, passionate kiss. He smelled like fresh linen and men's deodorant, tasted like the lemonade he'd been sipping on, and still felt just like the Steve you'd fallen in love with the year prior. His preparation for this tournament had been hard, but it was that moment when you'd realized it had all paid off.

The afternoon was filled with interview after interview, question after question, but you didn't care. Your cowboy was beaming, and your heart was full. His hands had stayed protectively on your waist, like he was afraid the interviewers would snatch him up and take him away from you. You just smiled, knowing it was his way of saying, "You'll always have me, no matter what league I'm in."

He all but floated to the car and the wide smile didn't even think about leaving his face. He'd leaned you against the car, peppering your face in excited kisses, and all you could do was smile. His nerves had washed away, and he knew it would be just you and him until the last ride. And unsurprisingly, that was all he needed.

Steve's hand stayed in yours the entire ride home, and you couldn't help but be reminded of the year prior. That first night, his hand stayed attached to your skin, like he was afraid if he let go, you'd disappear. And even now, after the honeymoon phase had passed, even after petty arguments about toothpaste brands and television shows, even a year later, he still couldn't keep his hands off you.

The air was filled with excitement, the windows cracked and blowing wind through your hair, only aiding your senses. Steve blared his playlist of post-competition songs, screaming along to every word. You couldn't help but sing with him, feeling a pleasant sensation in your belly every time he'd sneak a glance at you. With the windows rolled down, you could smell the freshly mown grass as you drove past the Byers' house, some family friends of Steve's, and wondered if they'd been at the tournament to see him win.

You made your way into the house, and an exhausted Steve plopped onto the couch to pull off his boots. You kneeled in front of him to help him out of his shoe, but both of you knew exactly what you were doing.

He ran a tired hand through your hair, giving you a sideways smile. "Whatcha doin' down there, sweetheart?" he asked, even though he didn't need an explanation.

"I was hoping," you said, running a hand along his denim-clad thigh, "I could help you celebrate?" You smirked as you watched him squirming to readjust his hardening cock.

His hands met the button of his jeans, undoing the fastening for you. "You don't even have to ask."

You pulled him out of his boxers, and your mouth drooled at the thought of tasting him. It wasn't like you'd never tasted him before, but with the big championship, he'd been hyper focused on his diet, so you knew he was going to taste good.

You placed his head on your tongue, licking small circles around it and already he was a mess. Like putty in your hands.

You licked a long stripe up his length, and his dick became even harder. "Oh, princess," he sighed, nearly squirming when your mouth moved down to his balls, sucking them slightly.

You left a trail of kitten licks from his balls back up to his tip, finally taking him into your mouth. Your cheeks hollowed around him, and he let out a soft groan. "Needed this," he sighed, slotting his hands into your hair.

You whined around him, your way of letting him know you needed it just as much. His head fell back as you inched closer to the hilt.

"God, you're so good at this," he grunted. He tugged at your hair, longing for you to take all of him.

You released for a moment, long enough to say, "Yeah? Am I your god tonight?" You took his cock back in your mouth, one of your hands moving to his balls.

Steve moaned as he nodded. "Always. You will always rule me."

Your hips rutted against the boot he hadn't taken off, searching for any friction you could find. You gagged around him as you finally took the entirety of his dick, your nose resting softly in the thatch of hair under his belly. His heavy balls hit your chin, and you moaned around him at the feeling.

"Fuck, I'm close," he grunted. He gripped your face, pulling you up and down his length. You whimpered as drool oozed down your cheeks, your hands moving to wipe it away. Your hand purposely slid from your chin to his balls, twisting them in your palm.

His cock jerked inside your mouth, his saccharine seed spilling down your throat. Your eyes watered as he rode out his high, fucking in and out of you. "Shitshitshit," he muttered, his grip tight around your hair. Your hips chased friction on his boot, winding against the leather.

Despite desperately needing to finish, even after you considered getting yourself off right there on his boot, you forced yourself to release his cock. You slowly pulled off of him, licking your lips where his cum had dripped out. He bent forward for a kiss, moaning at the taste. His tongue slipped into your mouth, running along your teeth and savoring the taste of what only you could do to him. You rocked against his boot, eliciting a chuckle from Steve that rumbled from his mouth into yours.

You forced yourself to move away first. You stood, practically throwing yourself into his lap. He leaned back on the couch, your legs on either side of his waist and your arms around his shoulders. "Congratulations," you giggled, still giddy from the high you'd provided him with.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he sighed. He pulled you back in for another kiss and trailed his hands down your body. Once they'd reached your waist, he pulled you up, lifting both of you from the couch. He managed to kick his boot off the rest of the way before walking out of the living room.

"Hey!" you pouted, but tightened your legs around his waist.

"Cowboy hat rule," he simply said as he carried you through the house.

You rolled your eyes, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. "What if I said, 'Fuck your cowboy hat rule.' What then?"

He shook his head and pulled you in for a desperate kiss. "I don't make the rules, sweetheart. I just follow 'em."

Steve swiftly carried you into the bedroom, laying you down on the mattress with ease. His lips met yours for a dominating kiss as he reached toward the bedside table, presumably pulling out lube or a condom. His other hand worked at the fastening of your pants.

You keened at every swift motion of his limbs, your body arching as his mouth dragged down the front of your neck. His lips ended at your collarbone as he stopped to suck a spot he knew you loved.

After a moment, both his palms were on you, his fingers making quick work of your jeans. He pushed them down your legs to reveal you'd nearly soaked through your panties.

"Might not need that lube after all, huh?" he teased, his hand cupping your clothed core. Steve’s digits pressed your clit through the wet fabric, eliciting a low mewl from you as you opened your legs further for him. You wanted to give him complete access, let him have free reign of your entire body. He chuckled as his fingers played with you through the cotton. "So wet already, filthy girl."

You keened at his touch, your hands palming at his hair. "Please," you begged. "Need you, Steve."

"I suppose you do deserve a reward after being so good to me, yeah? So sweet of you to put me first." he teased, slipping a finger underneath the soaked material. Your eyes fell shut in pleasure, letting out a whimper as the digit teased your entrance. "Well then, your wish is my command, princess."

He pulled your jeans off your ankles, tossing them toward the general direction of the hamper. He then tugged his own jeans and his boxers off, his dick springing up as he tossed the clothing in the same place. Finally, after much too long, he slid your panties down your legs, and his mouth met your cunt for a split second, just long enough to lick up a stripe of your wetness, his tongue lingering on your clit. You moaned, hips bucking toward his face. "Uh-uh," he tutted. "As good as you taste, I think I need to be in you first."

You could never say no to that. You threw your shirt off as he reached for the condom he'd pulled out, making quick work of the foil before rolling it on. Your heart pumped fast with every passing moment, pure excitement running through your veins.

He removed his own shirt too and hurled it toward the slowly growing pile, while you reached for the lube. You squeezed some into your hand before pressing it to Steve’s cock, spreading the lube down his length.

He grunted and hung his head as your palm worked up and down his cock. Your hands never ceased to amaze him. He was the clay, and your hands were nothing short of a potter's, the way you had him.

Your digits met your cunt, mixing what was left of the lube with your slick. Steve moaned at the sight, wishing he'd taken you up on that offer of letting him go down on you.

Steve slowly pushed inside you and you went glassy-eyed at the feeling. You couldn't count how many times you and Steve had had sex in the past year, but no matter how many times it was, his size never ceased to amaze you. He slowly inched inside you, uncontrollable gasps and moans tumbling off your lips. You were sure all of your senses had gone awry in that moment, positive that you couldn't speak, couldn't think a single coherent thought.

He hovered over you, every inch of his abs marked with sweat. His lips met yours for a heated kiss, your mouths molding into one. His hands traveled down to your hips and gripped them tightly. He counted down a quiet, "One, two, three," before flipping the two of you over, giving you a moment to settle. A cheeky grin appeared on his lips as his eyes met yours, and you found yourself getting lost in his fanned-out lashes. He pushed a hair behind your ear, smirking, "Well, giddy up then."

No matter how many times he made that joke, your stomach still did flips every time. It truly amazed you how someone so dorky, so sweet, could manage to be the sexiest man you'd ever known.

You slowly started to rock against him, letting out a quiet whimper as you were still adjusting to his size. Steve could stretch you and fill you like no one else ever could, and it was pure heaven every time.

He chuckled and planted his giant palms on your love handles. "Damn. And they say I look good riding things."

Your hips rutted against him and the friction was absolute bliss. "Hey, that reminds me," you sighed, eliciting a chuckle from Steve.

"If I had to pick a favorite thing about you," he said, "it's that you're a talker during sex." His words were filled with sarcasm, but you still managed to take it as a compliment. You kept grinding your hips into him slowly, pulling noise after noise out of Steve, his head hanging low.

"Thank you," you replied in a whine. "Anyway, I was- fuck- I was wondering what you wanted to do with the money."

Steve sighed a soft, "Shit," as your hips bucked at his, hands tight on your waist. "Two things."

"Yeah?" you said, rocking against him, your fingers running soft circles along his happy trail. "That's not a lot of things considering you just won twenty-five grand."

"Well," he started, bouncing his legs and shoving himself further inside you, "first thing I want to do is buy this cute, little- fuck- local business. You might've heard of it. It's called The Lucky Shot."

You stopped mid-roll. Your eyes widened as your face filled with shock. "Full stop, are you serious?"

"Don't tease me like that." He all but whimpered, fucking up into you harshly.

Your hips rocked along with his, like two metronomes ticking in time with each other. The past year had been like that. The two of you were puzzle pieces, made to be slotted together. "Seriously though, are you really buying The Lucky Shot?"

"Owner's an older man who had a heart attack earlier in the year. He's having trouble- shit- keeping the place up and running. Figured I'd- oh- take it off his hands. Told him I knew a young couple who'd love to take over for him."

Your lips found his for a long, loving kiss. He bounced you on his cock, and you moaned into the kiss, but somehow the noise just made it even more sickeningly romantic. "I love you, Steve Harrington."

"I didn't doubt it for a second, Y/N Y/L/N," he mumbled against your mouth, inhaling and taking you all in. "Hey, you're wearing that perfume I got you."

"Mhm," you smiled against his lips. "Thought it might- oh, god- bring you some good l-luck today." You leaned back up, your hips rutting with extra force as you chased down your high. You let out a low mewl. "What's the second thing?"

"That-" his voice hitched as he led you along his cock, "depends."

"On what?"

"I need your- ah- permission first."

The rolls of your hips slowed and your eyebrows furrowed in some mixture of pleasure and confusion. "OK, shoot."

His hands stilled your waist, his eyes soft as he looked up at you. "Marry me."

You knew it wasn't humanly possible, but you were fairly positive your heart flew out of your chest as you processed his words. "What?"

He tipped his chin toward the nightstand. "Look in the drawer."

Your eyebrows creased even harder. You were just still, somehow managing to completely ignore the current task at hand.

He let out a light huff, running his hand up to the small of your back. "Just trust me, princess."

You pulled at the handle of the drawer, looking around for anything that could be a clue as to what he was talking about. Your vision began to blur with happy tears, though you still weren't sure what you were searching for.

He watched as your concentration face became apparent, a chuckle tumbling off his lips. "Trojan box."

Your hand flew to the little black box, lifting the top. With a flick of your finger, you flipped open the box, inspecting the ring that was hidden inside. Tears started to slide down your cheeks as you registered what was happening.

Steve stole the box from your hand, holding it as though he was proposing normally, as though he wasn't balls deep inside you. "Will you, Y/N Y/L/N, marry me?"

"You hid my engagement ring in a condom box?" you asked, still flabbergasted.

"Well, I figured what better way to propose to you than by doing something that reminds you of the first time we met?"

You placed your hands on his cheeks, tugging his face toward yours and meeting him for a kiss. He tasted like your slick and his sweat, and somehow, it was the most amazing aroma you'd ever experienced. You took all of him in, letting him fill your senses like a breath of fresh air. His chest heaved underneath you, and his lips moved in sync with yours like he couldn't get enough.

You parted from him, lying down his chest and raising your hand. He chuckled at your speechless form as slipped the ring onto your finger. The band fit perfectly, just like he knew it would. Puzzle pieces.

"It's so pretty," you smiled. By the tone in your voice, Steve was convinced you were either cock-drunk or delirious. Probably both.

"Anything's pretty when you're the one wearin' it," he said, kissing the shell of your ear.

"Awww," you beamed, your hand combing through his deep brown hair. "Hey, you do realize that one day, when our kids ask, 'Mommy, how did Daddy propose?' we're gonna have to explain that your dick was inside me and you hid my engagement ring in a Trojan box?"

"Let's not get the cart ahead of the horse now," he chuckled. "You're the only one I want callin' me Daddy for a while."

You giggled, meeting his lips for a blissed-out peck. "Just think. You and me, together forever. Just like this for a lifetime."

"Just like this?" he teased, earning him an eye roll.

You pushed yourself up, your hands on either side of his head as you hovered above him. Your lips connected to his like magnets, this time for a steamy kiss, one filled with pure want. "Hey, you wanna know something, cowboy?"

"What's that?" he huffed in amusement, his thumbs caressing small circles on the fat of your hips.

"I say yes. To a lifetime of your love, your kisses, your stupid cowboy hat rule, all of it. I say yes a thousand times over."

"Can't argue with that, cowgirl."

A FORMAL APOLOGY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK ME TO POST 😭🤚🏻

I wish I had a good reason. I think I really just kept putting it off and didn't wanna read through it because I was overwhelmed (not with the fic, just with life) but I forced myself through it and I'm so happy with how it turned out!

Special thanks to @dungeons-are-too-cold for staying up with me until 5 am again to make sure this fic was at its best! Love you forever!!

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @esoltis280 @liberhoe

[detectivereads]

Delicious in Dungeon vol 7 by Ryoko Kui

#$!@/5 (my heart was ripped out; the volume is great.)

This post is for fan entertainment, I’m not being paid.

This volume is thicc! Dungeon Meshi Thursday!!!!!!

Ok there is a lot of tension between Chilchuck and Izutsumi, I am hoping in the future they will get along better but for now I can see them butting heads more. But during the fight with the Ice Golem, they do know how to put their differences aside and work together to get the job done.

At first, I felt sorry for Izutsumi, they wanted to be change back to their normal form. Also, I was reading more in The Adventurer’s Bible, understanding their back story a bit more, and I was shocked on what I found out on the part of who placed the curse on Izutsumi. (I will do a separate post on The Adventurer’s Bible; I highly recommend the book.)

Izutsumi seems to have a hard life that leads to major trust issues and will only help if it benefits her and her goals. But she has the pallet of a child that refuses to try new things and will throw a fit if she doesn’t get what she wants.

It also makes me wonder what her life was when she was with Shuro’s group, I mean we do see Izutsumi and the other ladies interact and it does seem that Izutsumi pushes stuff she doesn’t want to do/want on too Tade (even though when Tade fell off the roof, no one asked her to go up and do that chore, she just wanted to be useful.)

Now some of the middle chapters, I am now greatly worried about the group The Canaries. This group seems to have an impressive resume that even Kabru knows and has deeply affected him.

This whole group is elves, and from previous volumes they are looking for the secret of eternal life. That it seems that elves take over dungeons when they get out of hand, and from what Tansu has said that the elves want this dungeon back.

When I got the village part of the volume, I was surprised to see how a village managed to survive in this dungeon for so long. (I know that it’s Sissel magic that is keeping them alive.) But I pity them when they just farm to farm and do not really enjoy the product of their work. Like their sense of taste is so dull and with magic they have no reason to eat.

(Good lord if I couldn’t taste food I would be devastated, I love food and seeing something that you love like sushi or pizza and not being able to taste the cheese sauce and crust and spices, I would be beyond depressed.)

With that aside, these chapters we got a lot of information about Sissel, how he came to Degal kingdom, how he got into magic. How dedicated he is to try to find King Degal.

When Laois’s group got into the village, we meet Yaad, the grandson of King Degal and he is ruling the village they are in currently. Ever since Degal left for the surface, there has been a rift between the surviving Degal family and Sissel.

Yaad explains a prophecy about a person with a winged sword who would come and stop the mad mage and become the ruler of the dungeon. However, they need the help of a winged lion (that is their god that Degal’s people worshipped). But, Sissel has it locked away in the lower levels of the dungeon.

So, Laois has a choice to make.

At end of this chapter after Yaad helps the group leave, we see Sissel asking in a very scary way who was Yaad talking too.

This part makes me worried for Yaad.

The last chapters of the book…. *cue hysterical crying* POOOR SENSHI!!!!!!!!!!!! *uncontrollable sobbing* Oh lord his back story!!! His fear!!!! My god this must have tortured him for so long!!!!

You never see Senshi cry!!!!

Now (*Dries tears*) I do have some conflicted feelings with Laois in this chapter.

I can see where he is coming from, (and maybe its just me being overprotective of Senshi) but when discussing the death of Senshi’s old group, I do wish both Chilchuck and Laois exercised some tact, like talking in private out of ear shot of Senshi.

Laois is thinking is hard to follow sometimes, let’s eat the griffin and see if it tasted like the one from your past, if does yay you didn’t eat your teammates or oh no this doesn’t taste like that meal so that means I ate a team-mate.

However, I did like what Chilchuck said to Laois, that he really needs to stop. This was what I was talking about in my last post with Shuro and communication skills.

Chilchuck has good communication skills, he will not hesitate to call Laois on things that are delicate.

Though when re-reading the chapter again, I am glad that Senshi had such a great teammate to put Senshi who was at the time the youngest in the group. 

DON’T MAKE SENSHI CRY!!!!!!! My poor heart can’t take it!!!!!!!!

[dangermousie]

On rewatch this is even better. Mmmm, this is the sequence where he falls for her. (I love that it took a whole year for him to be able to get out of bed, yikes.)

But yeah, knowing what we know now, you can tell he just doesn't like being touched and yeah don't blame him between associating touch with pain and loathing the way he looks.

Woo, bath time! I want someone to make me a giant bath but not if I have to be in a torture dungeon first.

EEEEE but also yeah, once again, he doesn't really want to be touched at all.

Well I guess there are pluses in knowing exactly what you will be buying, heh.

But also I love this scene, because he's kinda standing still there all dead inside and she's undressing him and blah blah also jeez every time I see the scars they freak me the hell out no wonder he has body image issues.

And then it hits her she's undressing a man and heeeeee she totally gets all shy. Which makes sense, because when he was just in bed unconscious etc she only saw him as a patient but now he's well enough she can see him as a man and well, she IS a girl.

I actually really like how much this moment makes him fall for her because as he puts later he hated himself and the way he looked and what happened to him and she actually looked at that mangled body and got shy and viewed him as a man one can blush about and that really restored so much to him and like (I mean, it's bad enough for your average person to go from normal to mangled, but this man was supposed to be the pinnacle of physical perfection and also a deity and the novel makes it clear how close to impossible it is to leave lasting scars on a deity so he is an incredible freak in their world) - this IS a solid reason to go for someone who saved your life but now saved your sense of self too.

Semi side note, I love how consistent that is that she doesn't just like him or w/e, she genuinely desires him. His fiancee sees his torso and runs out in disgust and XY looks at him in full knowledge of what every inch of him looks like and wants, wants, wants - I mean, the scene where she wakes up after he leaves and there is a lock of his hair in her hand and she says something like "he left me a lock of his hair to drive me mad with want" and it's perfectly tailored to his issues. (And for her it's sort of like that but in reverse - plenty of men swoon for her when she's in her proper looks and place as the princess but he was in love when she had neither and looked like a scruffy dude village physician with no manners. In a way, he needs to have his body found attractive and she needs for someone to look beyond beauty of hers, and they both give each other what they need.)

I would normally crack up and go "Jing, don't you know gay men exist" but you know what - he's so very much a sheltered highborn lady, I don't think he does. Heh.

[happyandticklish]

Breathless

Notes: Commission for @ssnicker-doodless. Holy hell is this ever late, and I am super appreciative of your understanding while I was working on it through mountains of homework ;-; But I had to pull through for the sake of lee Brett, which is a worthy cause that I think we can all get behind😤 I loosely incorporated some of your headcannons as well, as those were incredible and I needed to put them into use somehow. I hope you enjoy!!

Summary: Brett and Reagan experiment with their first real session. 

Brett Hand was used to feeling helpless.

It was a common occurrence in his life and as such, he had forced himself to become accustomed to it. There were some things in life that were out of his control, and while he hadn’t yet found a healthy way to cope with that information, he had turned to denial instead to try to block out the anxious storm brewing inside of him. When the whole team decided to secretly inject him with truth serum without telling him one day, he took a deep breath and powered through it after sharing many a detail of his first time that was quickly dragged out of him. When Reagan cancelled on their dinner plans he had spent hours arranging for them because there had been an accident in the lab, he had simply smiled and sent back a text telling her not to worry. When every exam left him gritting his teeth in frustration as he furiously rose his grade to an A for his family, he told himself that life wasn’t about just facts and memorization. 

Brett Hand was a helpless individual so often that it had become comfortable at this point.

Yet, as Reagan tugged the last remaining strap around his wrists, he felt that same sense of telltale helplessness. Only this time, he couldn’t shove it down as usual. It wrapped around his insides, making him squirm uncomfortably in his seat as he tried to breathe normally.

Unfortunately, he was dating possibly one of the smartest people he had ever met, so it didn’t take her long to notice his nervousness. “Are you okay? You’re looking a little pale there.”

He nodded, the motion jerky and tense. “Of course! Definitely okay! I did ask for this after all, so it would be weird if I wasn’t okay, right?” He was more convincing himself than anyone else. “I mean, I like this kind of thing, so why would any of this be a problem for me?”

Her face had fallen in understanding and guilt twinged in his gut. “Brett, if you’re not okay with this—”

“I am,” Brett insisted. Not technically a lie. He was okay with this. He should be okay with this. He had hardly been able to contain his excitement when Reagan had readily agreed to his request, and had spent hours fantasizing about it in the weeks leading up to the event. Now it was finally happening and his incompetent lump of a brain was ruining everything for him. “I’m fine, Reagan, really. Just some first-time jitters, that’s all. I’m sure it will go away once you get started.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly still concerned, but consented, standing up to go back to her mysterious table of tools she hadn’t let him look at yet. They had decided to conduct the session in her lab, as that was one of the few places where a theoretical torture set-up wouldn’t look out of place. The bondage in place was rudimentary, more for Brett’s sake than anything. His hands were tied firmly behind the leather back chair, but other than that he was free to squirm as much as he wanted. The lighting in the room was dimmed to create atmosphere, and across from him was a table with a billowy sheet covering an array of different tools.

The setting all felt very dungeon-y, which had sent a thrill through Brett when he had first seen it. Now, it was making him realize how easy it would be to keep him down here forever if Reagan so pleased. He was pretty sure these walls were soundproof too. Again, a would-be benefit that, in the wrong hands, could end catastrophically for him.

Not that he was worried Reagan was going to kill him, per se. But there were other risks. A safeword is a difficult thing to comprehend in-between bouts of giggling laughter. And who knows what objects Reagan had picked out for him. He was fully clothed at the current moment but he knew that was bound to change later on. Being tied up, completely exposed, with no idea of how far things could go…

He squeezed his eyes shut as his thoughts spiraled. Calm down, Brett. It’s just tickling. You like tickling.

When he opened them, Reagan had turned back around with her hands held suspiciously behind her back.

“What’s that?” he asked, trying for casual as though he was not tied to a chair and was instead sitting comfortably on Reagan’s bed with zero stakes involved. He shifted in his bindings, trying to get a better look. “Nothing too intense, I hope?”

“Trust me, you’re gonna love it,” she said, kneeling beside him. She had that crazy scientist look on her face, the one that said she had just discovered a new idea she wanted to try out and someone was going to suffer for it. There was an uncertainty to it though, as though she were out of her element. “I have to admit, I did a bit of research to prep for this and found some common tools people use online. I just… we don’t normally do this in-depth of sessions and I wanted to make sure it was special.”

She was nervous. That made him feel a slight bit better about this whole thing. Her words and her demeanor conflicted though. He wanted to assure her that this was very sweet of her, but he couldn’t help the anxiety prickling inside of him at the thought of just what kind of ‘research’ she did. He had spent many nights delving into that side of the internet, and some of the devices they used looked intense. Really intense. Instinctively, he tugged on his bonds. They held. Obviously, as there was no way perfectionist Reagan was going to create shitty bondage. He tried again, just to make sure, his mind running rampant with scenarios. What if it really, really tickled, and he couldn’t get free, and he was forced to just sit there and take it? What if she didn’t understand how bad it was?

Brett yelped when she started to pull her hand out and she paused, face freezing in alarm. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. There was no playing that off.

“Brett,” Reagan asked slowly, dropping something on the ground. A quick glance down revealed it to be a toothbrush. Disappointment and relief tangled up inside of him at the thought that it probably wouldn’t be used on him now. “Look, if something is bothering you, you need to tell me. Because I’m not going to consent to do something to you that is so obviously making you uncomfortable. You can’t even look me in the eyes right now!”

“I can too,” he muttered, staring determinedly at the floor. “Besides, this is supposed to happen! I’ve watched all the videos for it, and the, uh, ‘victim’ always feels nervous beforehand. That’s supposed to be the fun of it!”

“Is this fun?”

No. The answer came to him instinctively before he could think about it, and he shoved it down as he had been doing the entire ride over here up till now. Because he had watched the videos. He had watched people scream and beg for release and be given none, and though he knew it was all part of some elaborate act, he could never shake the thought that one day that would be him. It was what had prevented him from telling past lovers about this interest of his, and it was what was preventing him from letting Reagan go through with this now.

“Brett.”

“No! Yes! I don’t know!” Behind the chair, Brett fiddled with his fingers, keeping his panic at bay. He exhaled shakily, forcibly calming himself down. It’s just Reagan. “Look. I love you, Reagan. I know you would never do anything to hurt me or that I wouldn’t want. You made that very clear and I don’t want to make it seem like I’m doubting you, because I’m definitely, definitely not! I just… this is new to me, too. I think maybe it was too much too fast and I don’t think I can handle that right now. Not like this.”

He wiggled his shoulders to indicate the bondage. Embarrassed heat crawled up the back of his neck. Probably, he should have had this conversation earlier so he didn’t have to share such an intimate confession while tied up and vulnerable.

He felt a touch on his hand and flinched—regrettably as Reagan pulled back almost instantly. This is exactly what he had been trying to avoid. “I’m sorry, I—I rushed this,” she said, tone unbearably apologetic. “I only agreed to all of this because I thought you’d be into it, but you’re right, it’s too soon. We can try another time, or not at all, or… I don’t know, whatever you want. Here, let me untie that for you—”

“Wait!”

They both paused. Brett coughed, the blush crawling down his neck unhelpfully. “Well… that is… I didn’t mean I’m not ready for all of it.”

Reagan sat back on her heels, frowning. Confusion was an odd emotion to see displayed on the usual know-it-all. “Oh. Okay.” She paused. “I’m sorry, what are you saying? You do want to be tickled?”

Tickled. The way the word sent giddy butterflies swooping through his stomach made Brett more and more sure of his decision. He inhaled shakily, needing to phrase this correctly so as not to hurt anyone’s feelings involved. “Well, I don’t not want to be tickled. But I don’t think I can handle all of… well. That.”

He nodded down towards the discarded electric toothbrush which sat in abandoned offense at his words.

“Maybe we could… I don’t know. Try something softer. Gentler. Just for now, anyway. I do still want to do all of that.” He paused, daring a glance at her. Not angry, so that was a plus. “Just not for today. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

It was a relief to get the confession off his chest. Terrifying, but a relief. He waited for the inevitable rejection he was used to or at the very least the derisive snort of judgement that Reagan was never shy about withholding. Instead, Reagan merely grabbed the toothbrush off of the floor and stood up to place it back over on the metal table—harmless, now. Then, she walked back over behind him, calmly gripping the back of the chair. Her knuckles brushed against his shoulder blades and he shivered at the sudden touch.

“Uh, Reagan?” he asked, a nervous smile slipping onto his face once more. He didn’t appreciate the silent game they were playing here. “Did you hear what I said? Are we good?”

“You know, the very first time I met you, I didn’t think you were very bright.”

Okay. Not where he’d thought this was going. “Well I mean, that’s not entirely—”

“And then I got to know you and realized that hey, this guy has some brains after all,” Reagan went on, ignoring his protests. “In fact, he may be one of the only halfway competent members on this team.”

Brett furrowed his brow. “Thank you? I think?”

“And as we grew even closer, I realized you were actually pretty smart, in your own weird Brett way that I could never accomplish no matter how hard I tried. Which is why I cannot for the life of me understand why you’d ever think that I would be annoyed by something like this.”

Oh. Oh. Brett’s shoulders slackened as he realized he was not, in fact, being scolded, at least not in a way that mattered. “I—I mean, I didn’t think you would be annoyed per se—”

She interrupted him, glaring down at him over the chair. “If I ever do anything to make you uncomfortable, especially when it comes to stuff as serious as this, you’ll tell me?”

He paused. “Y-Yeah, I mean, of course.”

“Brett.”

“I promise, Reagan. Seriously.”

“Good.” Reagan exhaled in relief, stretching her hands in front of her as she cracked both her knuckles. “Now that that’s done with…”

Brett stiffened as he felt hands coming around to unbutton his jacket from behind, carefully undoing each button with an almost awkward precision. They had been together for several months now, but Reagan still approached him carefully at first like he was going to bite her if she made any sudden movements. Brett probably would have been hurt by it if he didn’t know by now that that was just how Reagan was. After a while, she would relax into the touch, into touching him, and everything would be fine.

Which reminded him that she was touching him which meant that most likely this was going to lead to…

Anticipation kicked into high gear once more, panic bubbling gently at the back of his brain. This time, however, it didn’t feel suffocating. It felt exciting. He squirmed in his seat, unable to help it.

“Is this okay?” Her voice was right by his ear and his breath hitched in his throat. This was really happening. Weakly, he nodded, and he could practically feel her smile. “Good. Because I’d hate to have put all my notes to waste.”

“N-Notes?” he managed to croak out in confusion, scrunching back in the chair when she undid the last button. He could feel the cool breeze of the fans in the corner blowing against his bare skin and he shivered.

“You didn’t think I came into this unprepared, did you?” She cocked a brow, bringing her hands up to rest against his ribs. Just sitting there, not moving. A simple reminder of what she could do to him. “This might be our first real session, but it’s certainly not the first time I’ve had the pleasure of making you helpless under my fingers, and I’ve been keeping a mental record of those experiences, as any good scientist does. I’ve memorized your spots, Brett. I know which methods have you screaming and which have you begging for more, and which do both. And, most importantly, I know exactly which you like.”

Brett’s heart had stopped beating in his chest some time ago. It must have, anyways, because he couldn’t seem to feel its presence there anymore. All he could focus on was her fingers, two of her fingers to be precise, which had set subtly into motion while she talked. They touched down gently on his ribs, sliding up into slow, methodical circles under his arms. It was unfair how much that simple gesture tickled and he felt the first beginning giggles start to rise in his chest. He refused to break this early, however, so he thinned his lips together in resistance, his cheeks puffing out from the exertion of it.

“This is how it starts. Just two fingers, ever-so-slowly tracing, reminding you of just how ticklish you can be and how you can’t do a damn thing about it.” The circles climbed higher and Brett followed their path, arching back in his chair as he tried to move out of their line of fire. “For all you know, I’ll just stay like this forever. Endless teasing. Sounds fun, doesn’t it?”

This was new. Not the teasing, per se. She had done that before many times, usually at Brett’s insistence that it was fine, he didn’t mind it. But she hadn’t teased him like this. Not with confidence. Not with that sadistic edge in her voice.

He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on his breathing so that it didn’t stutter when her fingertips finally landed under his arms. “R-Reagan…”

“Is teasing not okay?” She scratched under his arms lightly, one nail at each side that kept up a horrendously persistent pace. “Sorry, I’m just trying to figure out what is or isn’t allowed here.”

“T-Teasing’s fine.” The words came out in a rush as Brett held back the grin that threatened to take over his face if he didn’t do something about it.

“Mm. And this?”

Brett jerked at the addition of two more fingers, the chair squeaking out in protest as his movement scooched it. Okay, all good, just a tad more ticklish than he was expecting things to be right off the bat. Giggles were slipping out now, choked and muffled as he tried to hold them back. There was no real point to the farce, but he couldn’t help the way his body instinctively held onto the laughter each time as though letting it out would reveal some failure on his part.

He nodded quickly, deciding that complete sentences weren’t smart under the circumstances. He kept shifting in his seat, his shoulders rolling back and then forwards as he tried to dissuade her fingers from their tasks.

When all five fingers descended under his arms, he squeaked, a stupid noise that he wished he could grab back and shove down his throat but it was too late. Reagan chuckled, amusement underlying her words. "Tickle?"

Red tinged the ends of Brett’s ears. Obviously, he wanted to say, but he had a feeling that would be unwise considering his position. He tried to open his mouth to respond, but each time she would spider over the skin by his topmost rib and his words crumpled into a fit of panicked giggles. He jerked against the chair in frustration, trying to ignore how much it tickled already. 

This was how it always was. That endless conflict of desire vs need. He needed the tickling to end but everything in him wanted it to continue. He tried to force his body to understand that he liked this, but it refused to stay still under her gentle ministrations. His stomach was in knots as he tried to reconcile the nervous excitement that made him want to scream or break out of these bonds or something.

“This is one of your favorite spots,” Reagan noted, upkeeping her gentle pace. Her tone had that tinge of pride and excitement in it that she used when she was unveiling one of her latest discoveries. He wasn’t sure how to feel about being one. “At first I thought you hated it from how much you’d try to get away and insist that it was ‘too much’. However, after examining the data, I’ve realized that you expose this area both during tickling and outside of it far more than is necessary. So then, I tried shying away from the area when tickling you to see if you’d provoke me to move there. Do you want to know the results?”

Absolutely none of this was fair and he was loving it. Since when did she become so good at this? “Oh my god, Reagan, do we really have to go through thihihIHIS—shit!”

Reagan merely raised her voice to accommodate the shrieking laughter that accompanied the spidering fingers under what she could reach of his armpits. “Every time, without fail, you would direct my hands towards there, whether you realized it or not. I mean, really, Brett. Begging me not to tickle you there when I’m nowhere near it?”

Brett had not thought he could blush any harder than he was, but evidently, his body had other plans. He felt like his skin was on fire, the sensation blooming over the rest of his skin and creating an embarrassing vermillion tint. He felt like some kind of human tomato, which is a thought he would have found undignified if he wasn’t so focused on being embarrassed by other things.

I mean, what kind of person keeps notes on your tickling habits? He had always assumed he was being slick about this particular interest. To find out that Reagan had not only noticed his behavior but had been keeping tabs on it without his awareness was unbelievably mortifying—and a tad flattering, if he was being completely honest.

Due to this compromised state of mind, he was running short on comebacks so he merely shook his head, keeping his gaze directed firmly at the floor to hide even a modicum of the effect she was having on him.

“No?” The fake sympathy was practically palpable in the air between them, sending goosebumps up the back of Brett’s neck. “So you don’t want me to stay here for the next…. Hmm. Does ten minutes sound good to you?”

Ten minutes. Dread crept its icy fingers down his chest, kicking his heart rate into high gear. No way, absolutely not, not there.

And yet.

There was no way he’d be able to handle something like that, so why did he feel so damn giddy at the concept?

Reagan seemed to take his lack of response as agreement if the way her hands refused to leave their perch was any indication. The laughter that had started as mere giggles at first was growing more frantic as time went on, whines and shrieks entering into the mix as he struggled violently against his bonds. The safeword rested on the tip of his tongue, ready if he needed it, but they had barely been at this for more than five minutes. There was no way he was giving in now.

Even if Reagan was driving him insane. Even if this tickled more than anything should have a right to tickle. Even if he was spending every second tied up planning out revenge scenarios because this wasn’t fair.

Though he was pretty sure Reagan had been joking at first, the digital clock resting on the desk across from them displayed the passing of five, six, eight—twelve minutes. Brett, breathless from struggling and laughter, was on the verge of giving in when her hands finally stilled. He exhaled a sigh that was half-relief, half-disappointment at the break.

“How was that?”

He glared at her, though the gesture lacked any real venom. “Horrible.”

“Liar.” She poked him in the side and he yelped, twisting away from her finger. “How was that, really?”

“Ticklish,” Brett admitted after a minute, and then with a bit of hesitance, “and fun. Just a little. Possibly.”

Reagan came out from behind him with a self-satisfied hum, coming to kneel by his lap. He forced his legs not to curl up off instinct. “That’s what I thought. You’re unbelievably obvious—it’s endearing, I’ll admit. Like dating a puppy.”

He frowned. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to be nice or if you’re making fun of me.”

“Ah, c’mon, it can be both.” She placed her hands on either of his knees carefully and he barely restrained a flinch. Don’t give yourself away, Brett. “Now, that was a perfect example of a strategy that has you begging, even if you enjoyed it thoroughly—”

“Hey—!”

“But—” she continued, squeezing his knee lightly and choking off any further reply from him. “There is another spot that you love far more, even if it is not as ticklish as the other. Now, places like your sides or stomach work well for results, but nothing beats out this from what I’ve seen. This is the one area that, unbelievably, never makes you beg no matter how much it tickles.”

Anticipation was crowding out panic at this point in his mind, and Brett forced any show of enjoyment off of his face. Being tickled was one thing, but there was no need to let Reagan know how eager he was for this kind of treatment.

“You are being unnecessarily sadistic about this,” he huffed, averting his gaze when that prompted a snort from her. 

“Yeah well, you did assign a mad scientist to tickle you.” Both hands were on his knees now. His heart leaped into his threat when she squeezed once more. “Not a very well-calculated decision on your part.”

“Well, that depends on your goal.”

“Mm. And just what is your goal here, Brett Hand?”

He couldn’t say it. Not now, not with her fingers crawling around the sides of his knees, nails slipping underneath. Not when she was looking at him like that. But he couldn’t explain any of that to her, so instead, he allowed himself to be swept up in sensation as her fingers slowly untangled his nervous system, and laughed. 

Which is what he continued to do for the next hour that they spent down in her lab until the laughter slowly transformed into an exhausted wheeze of delight.

Maybe it wasn’t the “proper” session he had imagined for their first time, but in a way, it was so much better than his expectations could have ever hyped up.

They could always make use of the “dungeon’s” full potential later, after all. 

[crazylittlejester]

So the myth is called The Wooing of Étáin (pronounced Ee-tane)

(Étáin being the character who Wars will take the place of in the au version)

(Also if you do look up the original myth I suggest ignoring the last part of the myth where/after Eochaid (Ee-oh-kade) has to pick which is the real Étáin. The result is treated as a horrifying thing in the original (as it should be) but subject is still disgusting even though it's somewhat standard fare for myths involving gods because in Irish mythology, some fairies are actually the ancient pagan deities that were worshipped pre-christianity)

But anyway, here's the child friendly version I grew up with:

A girl (Étáin) grows up dreaming of a blonde haired fairy prince (Midir). Eventually she forgets about these dreams and catches the eye of the handsome High King of Ireland (Eochaid) and they get married! Étáin at first is beyond happy, having everything she could ever dream of. However one night, a storyteller tells the royal court of the magical land of Tír na nÓg (T-ear nan ohw-guh (kinda pronounced like Ogre without the R sound), land of the fairies and immortality basically), the prince of that land, and his missing wife, the princess Étáin, who had disappeared without a trace.

Étáin the high king's wife, suddenly remembers her dreams of the same prince and realises she was the beautiful princess that went missing. She becomes distraught with homesickness for Tír na nÓg and starts hearing voices in the wind calling her name. Then one night, the wind and voices grow louder and she looks outside to see her dream fairy prince on a white horse and knows that he is here to take her back to Tír na nÓg.

Eochaid sees the prince too, and fearful of losing Étáin, he imprisons her in the palace dungeon, puts the palace into lockdown, and summons all his armies to guard it.

Étáin, unsurprisingly, is even more miserable in the dungeons, and prays for Midir to rescue her. The wind and voices grow ever louder until they suddenly stop and a bright light shines into the dungeon. Midir appears within the light and pulls her into a hug, in which they both turn into a pair of beautiful white swans. The roof of the dungeon opens up by magic, scaring Eochaid and all his soldiers, allowing the swans to fly free back to Tír na nÓg where they lived happily ever after.

For the au version, I was roughly thinking Tír na nÓg could be Wars' hyrule, with Midir being replaced by a familial relationship with the Chain instead of the romantic relationship in the myth. (And because of how prince/princess work as titles, it doesn't change with the relationship switch) I was leaning towards Time being Midir because as Mask he was in the war with Wars but also he's the one called Fairy boy. And so the dreams instead are about all the happy moments he spent with the chain. (Before Dink captured, tortured and wiped Wars' memory and then trapped him in something like the dark world version of Wars' hyrule).

The Eochaid the High King and his palace/armies could be Cia and her army instead. Because she would trap Warriors in a dungeon and she'd absolutely take advantage of him not remembering he's the hero if it means she can trick him into loving her. Which means Warriors gets a break down about remembering the war (and Cia's obsession with him) a second time :) this time it's even worse because he was tricked into marrying/being in a relationship with her!

And then of course Sky could be the one to rescue Wars, giving him Twi's shadow crystal to turn him into a swan, so that they can escape via flying together (with Sky on Crimson instead of also turning into a swan, although Sky turning into a Loftwing would be fun too!).

As this got a little long so I'll send the other myth as a separate ask!

— Shams of the Wild

THIS IS SO COOL AND I LOVE IT, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING THIS WITH ME

i think i could use SOME parts of this for the swan wars au, but i honestly might also make a completely different thing so i can incorporate this because the story is really interesting!! :)

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Kino Maniac [Prologue]

Monologue

Living at Rotigenberg,

was even more daunting than I expected.

Due to the aforementioned stench, even just opening the window is torture,

let alone going outside the house. 

That being said, 

perhaps I should consider myself lucky,

to be able to live here at Kino-kun’s manor.

There is absolutely nothing in these barren lands. 

Not only are they unable to grow crops,

but even their regular water usage,

is limited, or so I’ve heard. 

I quietly swallow down the rock-hard bread,

distributed by Yuuri-san.

ー The scene starts at the Ghouls’ manor

*Cling cling*

Yui: ...

Yuuri: ...

( Yuuri-san is always quietly watching me, even when I’m eating... )

( Ayato-kun was ultimately thrown in the dungeon in the basement... )

( Ayato-kun...I wonder if he’s alright...? )

*Cling*

Yui: Excuse me...Aren’t you going to eat as well, Yuuri-san?

Yuuri: No. As I mentioned before, our food stock is very limited. 

Yui: But...

Yuuri: No need to worry. I am a Ghoul. In other words, I am immortal. I can perfectly function even without food. 

...That being said, there are Ghouls who do enjoy daily meals because it is an old habit of theirs.

Yui: ...An old habit?

Yuuri: ...Amongst us Ghouls, there are those who have been born a Ghoul such as myself, or those who were previously human.

Yui: ...Human...?

( They were formerly human... What does he mean by that...? )

Yuuri: When humans who are meant to live in the human world stay in this World for too long, it is possible for them to turn into Ghouls. 

Yui: ...Is that so? Then...

( Does that perhaps apply to me as well...? )

Yuuri: I doubt you have to worry about that since you are Eve.

Yui: ...Really?

Yuuri: To put it differently, Ghouls are basically...humans who failed to fully awaken as Demons.

Yui: ...

( I had no idea that it was possible for a human to turn into a Ghoul... )

( But...Humans wouldn’t exactly go to the Demon World under normal circumstances, would they...? )

ー Kino enters the room

Kino: You’re still not done eating? You really are a Slowpoke.

Yui: Kino-kun...

( He’s not holding back with his words per usual... )

Kino: Hurry up. We’re heading out after you’re done. 

Yui: Heading out...To where exactly? 

Kino: Fufu...A nice place.

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the forest

Monologue

The place Kino-kun took me,

was an abandoned building in the middle of the woods,

a few miles away from Rotigenberg. 

Waiting there for us,

were people I did expect. 

ー The scene shifts to the abandoned building

*Creaaak* 

Kino: Sorry for the wait. She took forever to get ready, you see.

Yui: ...

Mystery Man A: No, don’t sweat it. All of us just got here as well. 

Yui: ( Who are these guys...? )

Mystery Man B: More importantly, we want to introduce to you the man in question first. Please, this way.

???: So you are Kino, huh...?

Kino: Heeh, seems like you’ve completely forgotten about me. Exactly, I am Kino. 

Yui: ...!

( This man... )

ー Richter walks up to them

Yui: ( This is Richter-san, right...? )

( But Richter-san was...By Kino-kun... ) 

ー A flashback ensues

Kino: Yup, I am! After killing Uncle Richter, I had Ghouls’ flesh put on his corpse to lure the two of you out here.

I honestly didn’t think it would work this splendidly. …Fufu.

Yui: One second. Did you mention Richter-san just now…?

Kino: Yeah. He was trying to kiss my ass until the very end, he was truly a lost cause.

ー The flashback ends

Yui: ( So he was lying back then...? )

( What on earth is going on...? )

Richter?: Hand over the Vampire we talked about. It’s a direct order from that man. 

Yui: ( ...Is he talking about Ayato-kun, perhaps...? )

( Hand him over...? )

Kino: ...Heeh. So I can assume that you guys have taken care of everything on your end already? 

Richter?: No, actually...

Kino: What? Not yet? Then I can’t possibly hand him over. 

As we’ve discussed, you have to bring me concrete proof that they’ve been completely gotten rid of.

Richter?: ...I see.

...

Kino: Make sure to deliver that message to him...understood? Now off you go.

Richter?: ...Excuse me. Let us go.

Mystery Man A: ...

Mystery Man B: ...Yes. 

ー Richter leaves with the two men

Yui: ( There they go... I wonder what this conversation was about...? )

( The man from earlier...That was without a doubt Richter-san, right? But... )

( Something seemed off about him. Like he had a different feel to him...He didn’t react to me being there at all either. ) 

Kino: ...Well then. Shall we head home too? 

Yui: Hey, Kino-kun. Those people just now...

Kino: Eh? From earlier? They’re from the Church.

Yui: ...The Church...?

( Such shady figures are related to the Church? I’m surprised they’ve come to the Demon World... )

( But then why...? )

The man you were talking to...That was Richter-san, wasn’t it...? 

Kino: That guy is Uncle Richter, yet not at the same time. I think, at least. Fufu. 

Yui: ...? What do you mean by that...? 

Kino: Who knows? I don’t know all the details either but...

From what I’ve heard, the Church retrieved Richter’s corpse. 

They might have experimented on it a little. Honestly, I could care less. 

Yui: Ugh...What exactly are you guys’ plans...?

( He’s hoping to hand over Ayato-kun to the Church in exchange for something, isn’t he...? )

Kino: What, you ask? Hm, let me think...I guess it’s about time I tell you. 

*Rustle* 

Kino: ...I’m trying to get my hands on new land for the Ghouls to live on, you see.

Yui: ...New land...?

Kino: Exactly. 

Someplace with fresh air and water, where nobody is deemed inferior to another. A place where the Ghouls can live in true freedom...

I can’t allow for them to be locked away in Rotigenberg for the rest of their lives. 

That’s the exact reason why I’ve joined forces with the Church, to get rid of the Demons who caused this situation in the first place.

Yui: ...

( Sure, there might be some logic in what he’s saying too but still... )

Hey, Kino-kun.

I agree with you that it’s wrong for the Ghouls to be discriminated against purely based on their race. 

I truly feel bad for everyone who has no other choice but to live on those barren wastelands. But...

I still don’t think that gives you a reason to use Ayato-kun by offering him up for trade, let alone ki...ーー

Kino: ...And what do you know? Don’t make me laugh. 

Yui: Ugh...

Kino: Then let me ask you...What other way is there?

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“You really are a natural at upsetting me, aren’t you? ...It grinds my gears. Hey, how come you’re so insensitive?”

“I’m starting to think that perhaps you don’t need this mouth which only spouts nonsense anyway...Want me to stitch it up for you?”

Kino: Can you liberate the Ghouls? Then do it. ...Right now!

*THUD*

Yui: Guh...!

( My throat... )

Kino: Hah...You can’t, can you? In that case, please don’t 

There’s nothing that makes me gag more than hearing carefree people talk about their utopian ideals...

So much so, I have to hold myself back from killing you on the spot...

ー He strangles her

Yui: ( Uu...I can’t...breathe... )

Kino: But you know, unfortunately, I have to keep you alive. 

You have to live...And make yourself useful to meーー!

*Thud* 

Yui: ...Coff! Coff, coff!

Kino: ...If you understand that, could you please watch your words from here on out?

ー Kino walks away

Yui: ( The look in his eyes... )

( ...I thought he would actually kill me... )

Yuuri: This is exactly why I told you not to defy Kino. 

Yui: ...Yuuri-san.

Yuuri: ...Can you stand? 

ー Yuuri helps her get up 

*Rustle*

Yui: ...Yes. Thank you very much. 

*Rustle* 

Yuuri: ...He’s not at fault.

Yui: Eh...?

Yuuri: I am...the only one to blame.

Yui: That...

( What does he mean...? )

Yuuri: Well then, let us go. We must go after Kino.

Yui: ...Yes.

Monologue

We followed after Kino-kun,

going down the same path,

leading back to Rotigenberg. 

After what he said earlier,

Yuuri-san did not speak another word.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[throped]

Never Glory - Chapter 6

Tom Riddle x reader

TW: blood, gore, death and all that stuff

"Ah what a fine morning," I sarcastically spoke. Our common room is in the dungeons which you guessed, have no windows! I motivated myself to get out of bed because classes would start in less than an hour, and I wouldn't want to be late on my first day. 

As I put my socks on, I checked to see whether Kaiser was awake. He was quite smart and he probably knew the dangers of getting out of his cage while I'm gone. Hence, I let him stay there untouched. 

I brushed my teeth, showered and put on robes. All that morning stuff. My hands then gently skimmed my favorite book about potions. If this was my first time at Hogwarts, I wouldn't call myself smart academically because I simply saw no point in learning things I wouldn't use in the future. That's what I was like back a few centuries ago, only getting grades for the certain parts and thing I would use. Because let's get it straight, no one and I mean no one is going to use botany if they want to take over the world, or kill someone for a matter of fact. What are they going to do? Woo the victim with flowers. But in complete seriousness, it's quite hard to comprehend how much I've changed these years. Life was so repetitive and unoriginal and I still have absolutely no clue why I'm still here. 

The fact that I've seen literally everything terrifies me. It may not seem like it, but death, blood, gore and not to mention, manipulation and torture, have all been seen by my very own old eyes. I just chose not to act on it. The world is already a bloody place without me getting involved. I saw families rise and fall and I couldn't say anything. I've seen the start of this place Hogwarts. 

Honestly, I could've done so much. I could've been powerful, because as far as I know, anyone and everyone immortal is already in Azkaban. But I chose to lead a peaceful life, because I have a feeling. I can't quite get this right, but I feel like someone is going to come, and my time might be over soon. Hogwarts is the only place where I just might get some information about how I'm even possible.

My 'life' has been a blur, and I hope that that changes.

I shuddered at my thoughts before shaking my head and walking out with my books in my hands. It was nearly time for class to start, only about five minutes. I read the syllabus before and I know that it hasn't changed. So if I'm correct, we'll be learning about the Sleeping Draught today in Potions. I assume we have Horace Slughorn for Potions and I hope to be on his good side. I just want to study a bit, get good grades and find out what the hell I'm doing in this era. I may consider asking Dumbledore soon too.

I reached the classroom which wasn't that far. I didn't manage to check whether my roommates were still in bed so Vanity and Vector might be in the class already, or they might be making their way here. I gently pushed the door open to be met with some seats full while others were empty. Only about one third of the students were here so far. As I scanned the room, I noticed that Tom Riddle was one of them. I took no pleasure in smiling, as I knew he nor anyone else would reciprocate. I turned to Professor Slughorn and realized that I had to make a nice impression as Potions was one of my favorite subjects. Although, charms was the one that I was best at.

"Oh and who might you be, young lady? I haven't seen you around before," Professor Slughorn asked. "Daena L/N, Sir. Pleasure to meet you," I grinned a little evilly. He didn't know what I was capable of in this particular class. "Ah, Dumbledore told me a little about you, said you were quite the smart one," he said. Well, he wasn't wrong right now. But before, not quite.

"But I'm afraid, since your from Ilvermorny, they are a little below us in terms of academic levels. So I'll need to assign you a tutor. Maybe Riddle m' boy?" He said as he took a glance towards Riddle who seemed to sneer at me but then politely smiled to the professor. I scowled a little which seemed to go unnoticed by the professor. This is bullshit. I don't need someone teaching me anything. However, I still agreed and continued smiling. I moved next to Riddle after he said yes to the offer. 

I placed my books down and moved away from the guy as much as my chair would let me. Sooner or later, everyone arrived and started chit chatting about whatever the hell they were talking about. I'm really not in a good mood today. I took a small breath in and out to calm myself a little. 

"Everyone! Quiet down, today we will be learning about the Sleeping Draught," Professor Slughorn stated. Well, at least I was right about the Sleeping Draught. I slightly turned my eyes to Riddle, who seemed to be reading a dark arts book. He is just weird, I don't care about how exceedingly 'handsome' people say he is. 

"Okay, so can anyone tell me what the Sleeping Draught is?" Slughorn asked. This is child's play, I'm not even going to bother answering. And it seemed Riddle didn't either. As his hand didn't go up. I assumed him to be the one who would be the first person to put his hand up considering how smart people said he was. I shrugged to myself and saw Slughorn pick a girl in Slytherin, she seemed to be... Oh wait- that's Grace Roka. Well, let's hope she gets this right. 

"It's a potion that causes the consumer to go to sleep for a long time, Sir," she said, smiling. I swear on my immortal life, this girl is a bloody idiot. She's wrong. She didn't even say a sentence and I found a flaw. I raised my hand and heard Slughorn say, "right, but can someone give me a in-depth explanation?" Professor Slughorn asked as Roka slid a smile onto her face for getting the question right. And her friends congratulated her. I rolled my eyes a bit and put my hand up to answer the question Slughorn just asked. 

I saw Riddle's hand slide up too and I prayed that Slughorn would pick me. Slughorn looked at me hesitantly, thinking that I would get the question wrong since I went to Ilvermorny. Well, I can tell he's a judger. "Uhm Daena, why don't you go ahead?" Slughorn said. The class looked at me as I stated my case.

"The Sleeping Draught is a potion which causes the consumer to fall to sleep as Roka said. But, she is wrong, she said that it would cause a long sleep. That is untrue, it is temporary. But instead of a long sleep, it causes a deep sleep where the consumer will not wake up. If you wanted a long sleep, you would use the Draught of Living death," I said while pausing for a second and continuing. "It is a purple mist that envelopes after you open the Sleeping Draught. To make this potion, you need 4 sprigs of Lavender, 6 measures of Standard Ingredient, 2 blobs of Flobberworm Mucus, and 4 Valerian sprigs. Also, the antidote is the Wiggenweld Potion if needed."

I smiled a little before Slughorn spoke up in a little shock. This'll teach you not to judge anyone, Professor.  "Well done, Daena! 10 points to Slytherin, plus 5 because of the enthusiasm and listening skills!"

I smugly smiled and looked towards Roka who slid a little under her chair, ashamed of being pointed out for her flaw. She scowled at me while I just looked back towards Slughorn. 

"Quite the impressive answer, L/N," Riddle whispered into my ear. I know what you're thinking, but I don't fall easily. If I did, I would be dead.

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

I have exams and assignments these 2 weeks so I may not post much. It depends though, I might. Also, I just wanted to give a little traits about your personality and who you'd kill for and blah blah. So if the rambling in the first few paragraphs are long, I apologize.

[shares-a-vest]

Platonic Stobin Month, Day 14: Nightmares

Pretty much immediately after Starcourt, Robin starts staying over at Steve's house. Turns out that being held hostage and tortured in a secret Russian basement under a shiny new local mall really makes you speedrun co-workers who tolerate each other to codependent best friends real quick. (Plus, they had to get together their resumes considering their former place of employment was destroyed by a goo monster and is now fenced off as a government exclusion zone).

And considering the recurring nightmares, putting up with her mother insisting Steve is her boyfriend seemed like a consequence Robin could tolerate if it meant a shot at getting some much-needed sleep.

But, despite a quiet night, early bedtime and a fairly standard pre-bed routine, before dozing off in Steve's dreary wall-to-wall plaid bedroom, Robin still gasps awake.

"Steve!" she panics, scrambling around to grab at the covers.

But the bedspread doesn't move an inch, blocked by the lump laying across the foot of the bed, all hair and (equally plaid) pyjamas.

Even with the desk lamp on that somewhat illuminates Steve's bedroom, it's still too dark. How he became Casanova King Steve in this dark dungeon is beyond her.

She looks at the clock radio. 11.30pm? She'd only slept for just under two hours!

Robin brings her knees to her chest, swiftly moving from under the covers so she can crawl to Steve, who's curled in on himself with headphones on. Ah-ha, that would explain the non-reaction to her stirring awake. Robin swears she screamed for real in her sleep just before she woke up.

She hovers over him, trying to determine how conscious he is. And sure enough, Steve's awake too. He's staring off into the distance, not quite focused on anything, his eyes glassy and looking just as exhausted as he looked when they'd decided to retire for the night.

Wait.

"Steve," she repeats, low this time as she lifts the exposed earpiece from his ear.

He shakes his head, lip in a tight line as he closes his eyes and furrows his brow.

"Yeah," he hums more than asks, voice small.

Steve sniffles and his shoulders tense up. Robin can't help but push the headphones back completely and brush his hair (somewhat) back into place.

"You haven't slept at all, have you?" she whispers, trying not to sound like she's demanding an answer.

She sighs at the realisation Steve is laying directly on his bruised side. It has faded a little, now a dull purple. She places her hand on his shoulder, moving to tip him onto his back.

He goes willingly and opens his eyes.

"Let's get some sleep," she offers, nodding as she speaks.

She watches as he searches her face, eventually giving the slightest compliant nod as he slowly raises to a seated position. She intertwines their hands and leads him back up to the head of the bed, lowering him back to his pillow and smoothing his hair again for good measure.

"I still have this muffling in my ear," he says as he adjusts on his side, insisting on laying down directly on his bad ear with a hard grimace. "Feels better if I lay on my left side."

"M'kay," Robin replies, settling the covers back over them before snuggling against his back. "You be the little spoon."

She slots a leg between his so they are flush against each other and warps her arms around his middle.

"So warm..." she coos, trailing off into a hearty yawn.

"Like being the small spoon," Steve mumbles, yawning too. "But what about you?"

He attempts to lift his head but Robin stops him, giving him a tight squeeze as she noses into his fruity-scented hair.

"It's good," she coos, a wave of tiredness washing over her. "Feels like you're shielding me... Not that I'm some pathetic princess who needs protection, of course!"

Steve chuckles, low and gravely. "Robs, I know what you mean."

He places his arms over hers, takes a hand to his chest and sighs.

For the first time this week, Robin and Steve sleep through the night.

Prompt List

[femalewhumper701]

Review: Don't Click (2020)

-or-

I Damnsure Wish I Hadn't

Ever wondered what would happen if you put Hostel, Ms. 45, and Freakazoid into a heavy moralism bag, shook it, and stuck it in the microwave for five minutes? Yeah, me neither. But Courtney Ellum and G-Hey Kim have apparently decided that folks need to, so here we go.

[A/N: After speaking with some younger friends, I've realized I may need to explain: Freakazoid was a Cartoon Network cartoon in the 90s about a guy who gets physically sucked into the internet as an alternate dimension where he is transformed into a quasi-superhero and runs around having bizarre adventures.]

I had remarked a while back about how weird it felt at the time that Shogun’s Joy of Torture had the heaviest morality armor out of anything I'd seen out of Japan so far. But even that armor came anchored in reality, its premise being “We actually did this shit to live people in our past, and we need to confront its terrible face in extreme detail, because if we don't and instead become complacent and self-congratulating, we run the risk of doing it again.” Which, you know what? Fair. Cool story, movie.

This? This is something else. This is big after school special energy in a place it most definitely does not belong. I normally try to avoid spoilers when I do reviews, but to spare others from unnecessarily subjecting themselves to this steaming pile of contempt for the audience, it's about to get detailed.

So the story starts with some frat dude watching a red room and masturbating (mercifully out of direct sight.) He gets sucked into the internet á la Freakazoid halfway through. His roommate comes in, finds his laptop but not him, and glances at the screen in the course of putting it away. He finds not one but two red rooms on the screen, then gets sucked into the internet himself.

And when I say à la Freakazoid, I mean Cartoon Network material. It's one big empty room, but in the extremely unlikely event that you're confused, don't worry! There are helpful glowing cracks in the walls to tell you that this is an alternate dimension! ✨️

Jackoff is there but his lips are sewn shut. Our Hero continues to be shoved back and forth between Internetworld and Reality.

When in Internetworld, he is "haunted" by the ghost of one of the girls in the red rooms, who is in a wedding gown for no discernable in-story reason and sadly scolds him for things his friend has done but not him, as his buddy is missing a piece more each time he arrives, and she starts possessing him and forcing him to inflict the damage himself. (Occasionally, they are also menaced by a guy with bloody handprints where his face should be. He's not super important except to note that Our Hero will be taking his place in the end.)

When in the Real World, he experiences flashbacks of his life in the apartment with his fratboy buddy, through which it is "revealed" that his friend is a sick fuck who was always a violent perverted asshole, already iredeemable when they moved in and endangering Our Hero of following in his footsteps just by existing in proximity. (You can tell because he has a limited edition movie poster of Man Bites Dog and is not ashamed of it, you see.) Other evidence exhibits include social awkwardness, an introverted personality, carelessness with what tabs are open on his phone, and a preference for first-person shooters when gaming.

It is painfully obvious that this was done by someone who has no concept of what actual BDSM porn or amateur dungeon cam streaming is and has conflated both with the urban legend of “red rooms"--and to a tragically laughable degree. It put me immediately in mind of my childhood in the ‘90s, when throngs of adults legitimately believed that the sight of the 8-bit “blood” in Mortal Kombat would turn us all into marauding serial killers. That, or perhaps more closely, that one time Charlie Sheen lost his shit and decided Gini Piggu was a snuff film, and sent it to the FBI without waiting for the credits–which would have supplied him with the full cast and crew and enabled him to verify that everyone had indeed survived the filmmaking process. 

Given that, it seems weird that something so awkwardly anti-freak would be promoted in such a freak-centric market.

Or maybe not. Maybe this is the same kind of cinematic evangelism that shat out God Is Not Dead and Left Behind. “Take a good hard look” in blood on the occasionally-present mirror is aimed squarely at the audience, like the movie really does think it can persuade the freak market to stop freaking because of the cartoonishly dire “harm” it's shown to “cause” … complete with a slow-motion anti-masturbation bit involving the severing of the right hand, Fulci-grade eyeball carnage, and a bizarre dick-ectomy sequence as punishment for jacking off.

Because ultimately, jacking off is all this poor dickless bastard actually did. We see no in-story evidence or even implication that he's one of the people egging on the red room torturers mid-stream. It's barely implied that he even understood he was looking at a red room. And even if we were to assume he was.... Our Hero dies for a stray glance? An accidental discovery? And of something nobody would conclude from that brief exposure that the guy wasn't just watching an indie horror project, at that? "If thine eye offends thee," is that seriously where we've arrived at, movie? Should we add John Calvin to the credits?

The weird chastity imagery in the ghost isn't helping matters, either. (Why is she in a wedding dress and veil? She was in a plain midi day dress in the video??)

She sadly scolds him for not telling anyone that his friend "needed help," but real talk, what would that phone call have sounded like? "Hello, 911? Yes, I'd like to report my friend. He's looking at porn and masturbating. I understand that's not a crime, ma'am, but--but it involves restraints and the appearance of violence! No, no I don't have any proof that what I saw .5 seconds' worth of was an actual real person... He likes violent movies and video games though! I understand that's not a crime, either, ma'am but---Hello? Hello? Are you still there?"

I feel like this entire thing–like pretty much every instance of anti-BDSM hysteria–could have been either fixed or prevented entirely with a simple Q&A with a real live sub, amateur cammer, or both.

Because what's pictured–genuinely unwilling victims and unwanted actions, the kind of blind thrashing and actually trying to break loose that can get you hurt rather than the usual token “whatever shall I do” play-squirming--isn’t just not normal by BDSM community standards, it's not acceptable. When we say “safe, sane, consensual,” we mean it.

If you are at all into kink, you know that in reality, when it comes to pain, it's the sub who calls the shots. The dom’s power is a fantasy. It's why I enjoy being a sub; I'm beset by pain 24/7 because of my illness, but the second I step into a dungeon, I control some of that pain instead of it controlling me. Even if I approach a femdom with “idk go nuts”--which I have done and emerged alive, believe it or not–I decide the intensity and duration of that pain even if the type/implement is “mistress's choice.” 

(And the femdoms I have encountered, in their ardent defense, have been great about any unfamiliarity or inexperience on my part ever. People who are professionals really do try all they can to make sure you're getting as much or more out of it as they are.)

For me, the true object of the game is to make pain my bitch, and if my own pretend bitchdom in the process makes the relevant femdom happy? I should hope so! After all, for something to be obtained, something else must be given. This is called equivalent exchange. 

In my original review, I closed with an attempt to meet the film where it's at, treat it like the attempt at social commentary it thinks it is, but that was before I watched Man Bites Dog for myself. I cannot now dignify the work of someone who considers liking it to be a sign of a budding predator with a serious reply. Found. did it better–and from a position grounded in reality. This mess is just the product of the deranged, ignorant fear of what the people behind it apparently neither know nor understand. And it's a damn shame, honestly.

[aishangotome]

Chapter 1-10 Like Awakening From a Dream (如夢初醒)

Chapter 1-9

.

.

.

After returning to the palace that day, I finally saw Fei Liang. She hugged me and cried for a long time, and I had to comfort her for a while before her tears finally stopped.

Afterwards, I kept searching for the book "Youming Guangji," but Fei Liang said it was listed as a banned book and was no longer available for purchase.

On the fourth morning, I heard that Gu Zhao had captured someone from the Hundred Knowledge Pavilion.

-

I personally went to the General's Mansion. As soon as I got off the carriage, a guard greeted me.

Guard: Greetings, Princess. The General has been expecting you for a while. Please follow me.

I couldn't help but be surprised. Gu Zhao knew I was coming?

-

I followed the guard all the way to the inner courtyard. When Gu Zhao saw me, he wasn't surprised at all and dismissed the guard with a wave of his hand.

Princess: You were waiting for me?

Gu Zhao: With the Princess's way of doing things, knowing that I captured someone from the Hundred Knowledge Pavilion, you would definitely come to seek clarification.

Princess: General Gu is so composed. Is it because you have the General's backing, or do you think I pose no threat to you at all?

Gu Zhao: What makes the Princess say that? I'm just doing my duty.

Princess: Then if I want to personally interrogate them, would General Gu give me that courtesy?

Gu Zhao looked at me for a long time, then a playful smile appeared on his face.

Gu Zhao: Of course, I will obey.

-

I followed Gu Zhao to the dungeon located deep within the mansion.

However, there were no instruments of torture, no dying prisoners. The place was completely empty, not a single person in sight.

Gu Zhao looked at me, amused by my confusion.

Gu Zhao: Hasn't the Princess figured it out yet? The Hundred Knowledge Pavilion isn't important, and whether or not we get any clues from them doesn't matter either.

Gu Zhao: The confessions have already been written. All we need is to grab a few random prisoners, have them put their fingerprints on it, and we can close the case.

Princess: The people you captured that night...

Gu Zhao: It seems the Princess still doesn't understand the General's way of doing things. The General always...

Gu Zhao: Leaves no loose ends.

Princess: ...! You mean, they're already...

Princess: But you... why did you bring me here?

Gu Zhao: The Princess is so intelligent. What do you think my intentions are?

Princess: The night I returned to Shengning, Wu Hai could have easily killed me, but he didn't.

Princess: At first, I thought you were just worried about not being able to explain to Father. But you were right, I'm not that important to Father, he wouldn't make a big fuss over this.

Princess: That means you didn't really want to kill me.

Princess: That's the first point.

Gu Zhao listened, raised an eyebrow, and looked at me with interest.

Gu Zhao: ... Please continue, Princess.

Princess: The next day, I managed to find the residence where you took me that night. There, I found a dart that Wu Hai had dropped.

Princess: I initially thought it was because the angle was hidden, and your men missed it when they were cleaning up the scene...

Princess: But with your cautious nature, would you really overlook such important evidence so easily?

Princess: So, that dart was a clue you deliberately left behind.

For the first time, Gu Zhao's gaze towards me showed a ripple of emotion, as if he was somewhat surprised.

Gu Zhao: Is there a third point?

I nodded.

Princess: That day, outside the side hall, you said something to me.

*flashback*

Gu Zhao: Does the princess see everything in the world as black and white? That's too dull and uninteresting.

*flashback over*

Princess: I think that sentence is more about yourself - neither black nor white, but existing in the gray area between truth and falsehood, right and wrong.

Princess: Although I don't know your motives, I believe that night, you were actually protecting me.

I tried to find a crack in Gu Zhao's impeccable expression, but he just smiled.

Gu Zhao: The princess is very clever, but there's one thing you haven't realized.

Gu Zhao took a scroll from his sleeve and spread it out on the stone table.

Gu Zhao: This painting has been widely circulated in the markets recently. The artist is unknown, but its meaning is clear.

Gu Zhao: The Fire Phoenix only appears in times of chaos and will also end chaos. Legend has it that only those of Li bloodline can tame the Fire Phoenix, so the surrounding countries have always been wary and do not dare to act rashly.

Gu Zhao: But since the passing of the High Ancestor, the Fire Phoenix has been nowhere to be found. In recent years, Dacheng's national power has declined, and both Beikun and Guchuan are eager to make a move.

Gu Zhao: And at this very moment, there's the prophecy from twelve years ago about the "heart guarded by fireflies," followed by rumors of the Fire Phoenix reappearing as soon as you returned to the capital...

Gu Zhao: Doesn't the Princess understand how dangerous her current situation is?

I heard from Mother that twelve years ago, when the soothsayer first gave the prophecy about me, Father didn't take it seriously.

But later, for some unknown reason, he suddenly changed his attitude and banished me from the palace... No one knows what happened in between.

Princess: But... why would Father choose to bring me back at this time?

-

After returning to the palace, I received an imperial edict from Father, designating my fiefdom as Lingzhou.

Since the founding of the dynasty, Lingzhou has always been a place of exile, located in the remote border region between Dacheng and Beikun. Yet, Father "bestowed" it upon me.

But I calmly accepted the imperial edict.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 1 Rumours

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[reverend-dog]

Welcome to Thalassia

With a pop like a champagne cork, the stasis bubble collapsed, and its payload spilled onto the floor in a sprawl of indignity. Krakenne struck a practiced stance of intimidating command and glowered at the prisoner. “Welcome to my home,” she rumbled in her best regal tones.

Prepubescent limbs untangled themselves, and Krakenne's captive rolled into a kneeling posture. Hands scrabbled on the floor until fingers shoved against a pair of glasses, then seized the eyewear and pulled them into place with unerring accuracy. Krakenne held her pose until the child looked up with vision unhindered.

“Oh boy,” came the boy’s first words, “are you in trouble!”

“Less than you may think, Jonas,” Krakenne returned. “Unless your father wishes to risk an international incident. As I said, you’re in my home, in Thalassia. Sovereign land, recognized by the UN and all civilized nations. Even Ultra Joe has to respect that. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Jonas opened his mouth for a further warning, then let it hang open at Krakenne's questions. “Aren’t you going to lock me in a dungeon?” he managed after a moment.

Laughter bubbled from Krakenne's mouth, and she managed to conceal her own surprise at the sound. “Even if I had one,” she told him, “that’s hardly the way to treat a child. The rooms prepared for you do have locks on the door, but that’s for your protection.” She shrugged. “I haven’t had time to child-proof the entire palace.”

“Do you mean it?” Jonas challenged. “About me being hungry?”

Krakenne nodded. “Of course! What would you like?”

Jonas hesitated, then decided to take the plunge. “Shrimp fried rice an’ egg rolls?”

The glint of mischief in the boy’s eyes did not escape Krakenne, but she let him get away with it. “Of course,” she acceded with a nod, and turned. “Follow me.”

“Can I ask a question?” Jonas ventured as he trailed behind Krakenne. They traversed corridors hung with portraits and landscapes, all depicting locations in Thalassia or people with serious expressions.

“How else can one learn?” Krakenne challenged in turn.

“Why do you do it?”

Krakenne did not insult the boy’s intelligence by dissembling. “At first, it was to get rid of a cruel, corrupt king who treated Thalassia like his personal plaything. After, it was to get back treasures and artifacts stolen by other governments during their colonizing days. Now, I protect Thalassia from governments and corporations that confuse being small for being weak.”

“But can’t you do that without doing crime?” Jonas pressed.

“I tried,” Krakenne assured him, “every step of the way. I pushed for fair elections, and was put in prison and tortured. I politely asked the other governments to return our treasures, and they either ignored or threatened me. I’ve protested before the UN about foreign incursions, only to have their actions vetoed by those very countries. Yes, I break their laws, because they use those laws to protect their own evil acts.”

“My dad says you’re a dictator and a terrorist,” Jonas told her. “He says he lives for the day when he can punch your face in.”

“I’m aware of your father’s opinion,” Krakenne assured him. “He defends the law, without questioning if the law is right. I choose justice, which is never wrong.”

“Like Superman and Batman,” Jonas compared.

Krakenne tilted her head. “More like Rick Flag than Superman,” she corrected, “but otherwise, yes.” She stopped and turned to favor Jonas with a smile. “You’re a very bright boy,” she told him, then turned toward a door. “These are your rooms.” She touched the carved wood, and the door swung open. “Your food is waiting inside. If you want anything else, just speak aloud. You’ll be heard.”

Jonas peered inside the suite, eyes wide at the appointments. He got as far as the doorway before he stopped and looked up at Krakenne. “Are you….” He pressed his mouth shut, and turned to enter the suite.

“Finish your question,” Krakenne softened her tone. “Please.”

The boy’s shoulders tensed as if bracing for impact. He did not meet her eyes. “Are you busy?”

Clues lined up and clicked together. Krakenne smiled. “I would be delighted to sit and talk with you,” she declared. Putting action to words, she stepped through the doorway and crossed the suite to sit in a chair, one of a set that flanked a table. On the table sat a covered tray. Jonas stared at her for a few moments, then entered and hiked himself up onto a chair. Krakenne lifted the tray lid, to release savory fried aromas.

“There’s one question you haven’t asked,” Krakenne announced as Jonas dug into the pile of rice, vegetables, and crustaceans. “Why.”

Jonas swallowed a bite of eggroll, then chased it with a draught from a mug. He shrugged. “You need leverage against my dad.”

Krakenne nodded, then tilted her head. “You’re not curious about that?”

Jonas stopped eating, and looked down. “It’s none of my business,” he stated in a voice with all feeling steamrolled out of it. He set his spoon on the table and put his hands in his lap.

Krakenne's eyebrows sought her hairline, but she kept her questions to herself. “It won’t be for long,” she promised. “Once this affair is finished, you can go back home.”

The boy’s head lifted a notch, then dropped down again. He nodded silently.

Curiosity slipped its leash. “If that’s what you want,” Krakenne tested.

Jonas’ head dipped lower, until his chin seemed to press against his chest. “It’s where I belong.”

In Krakenne's mind, justice stood up and made its demand. “Where you belong,” Krakenne decreed aloud, “is where you are wanted. Where you are loved and respected. Where you can be happy, and grow into the person you want to be.”

Her words were not lost on Jonas. He lifted his head, ready to duck again at the slightest warning, and met Krakenne's eyes. “Do you have robots?”

“I do,” Krakenne admitted, “but only for jobs that are tedious or dangerous. The most advanced machine can never replace a human touch.”

Jonas opened his mouth, shut it, sucked in a deep, ragged breath, and tried again. “He’s hardly ever there,” he confessed, “and when he is…. Most of the time, it’s just me and Cyber Joe. He’s – it’s okay, but….” His throat seized, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Jonas,” Krakenne injected the slightest hint of command into her tone, just enough to make him meet her gaze. She made her expression serious, but not stern. “In Thalassia, it is a grave breach of manners to eject a guest who has given no offense.”

A faint light flickered in Jonas’ eyes. He searched Krakenne's face and scrutinized her words. “Really?” he whispered.

Krakenne nodded. “Upon my word and honor as steward of Thalassia.” She relaxed her face to allow a smile. “Your food is getting cold,” she advised with a nod to the tray.

Jonas’ smile was a buoy that dragged him upright in his chair. “All right!” He grabbed his spoon and scooped up a heaping portion of shrimp fried rice.

[acetheidiotinacloset]

A ramble about Madrid, because life has no meaning

Tw for mentions of alcohol

Me and a friend went to Spain, and had a very long discussion about that one time Dionysus and the Devil teamed up against the King, and manifested that as Madrid. so now you get to hear the highlights of it (or don't, I don't really care), this is kinda in the format of short rambles, there will be typos:

Preface:

So basically, Madrid's weird, their geography's ridiculous, they just function on a cliff, away from water, no access to agriculture. This place doesn't even have access to oil. So what's the responsible thing to do with the land? Not build a city. But what do they do? Build a city. And it became a capital? What the actual frick dude? But it happened anyway, why will be discussed later. What you need to know now is that the Christian's have control of the land.

This might sound dull, trust me, it isn't. The history is rich, (Game of thrones did a good job writing it, just less dragons, but they got the incest right). Plus half of their history is either really bloody (Roman roots just be like that) or gossipy and petty (love that).

Stories of the main square:

Madrid… is definitely a city. Not a super popular one, but a city nonetheless. The king wants more attention, so he says "let's build a market!" and his people say "you'll kill us if we don't so let's do it!", so he builds the market, outside of the city…. what? Why he did that is debated, so let's not get into that for now, bottom line, it's there.

Before I get to the rest of the market shenanigans, I'd like to remind you that water wasn't clean, so, you could, A: boil it, or B: just drink wine. So I want you to remember that through all of this, everyone was SO drunk. To give you a picture, near every butcher shop, was at least one doctor was stationed, because, you know, drunk guy with big knife. The doctor was also drunk, but better that than nothing right?

The market was pretty successful! People made money, sold produce, bought produce, and payed taxes! Yay, taxes… PEOPLE HATE TAXES. So what did they do? Ignore the tax collectors near the entrance, go in through the corners!

The king, did not find this party rocking.

So, he said "CLOSE ALL THE ENTRANCES, LEAVE ONLY ONE!" And the people say "you'll kill us if we don't, but what if there's a fire or something, all those people, one entrance?" So he finds that a good point, and puts tax-collector people at every entrance. So what do the people do? Ignore them. The king has control of Madrid and the market, but not the streets between. So that's where they go, and it's great! For the people at least, not the king.

So he does some critical thinking; what is the foundation to the market? BREAD, remove the bread, it all crumbles. So he says "if you don't sell bread IN THE PHYSICAL MARKET, IN THIS SPECIFIC BUILDING, you'll be Marie Antoinetted." And the people say "yeah right as if", then a baker dies, and they say "alrighty then, in we go."

Unfortunately the bakers are all tipsy as heck, and the market is surrounded by six stories of wood, so fires obviously ensue, three, to be exact. (Though the first two were harmless.)

The third fire burnt the place to ashes, so when they rebuilt it, they used NO WOOD WHATSOEVER. So that's how it is now.

Last, but FAR from least, is the story of a statue. The market started to feel… empty, so they put down a statue of the previous king and his horse. Nice. But after say, a year, people started moving out, and businesses shut down. But why? Apparently, this rotten smell. But from where? Good question, we don't know. So they ask the ruler, the queen, what happened. And she says "ITS THE DEVIL." And the people, doubt her, and search nearby buildings, and don't see the devil. Well, if it's not over ground, it must be under. It's not hell, but it kinda is, it's a torture dungeon! With.. no bodies? So that wasn't it.

A few months later, a dude whose name is unimportant commits some high treason for some reason. He places a bomb in the horses mouth, and watches it blow. That… was NOT A GOOD DECISION. But while contemplating his choices, something spills out the horses head. Bird guts.

So basically, roughly 1000 birds had flown into the hollow statue through the horses open mouth, gotten stuck, died, and rotted and cooked under the sun heating them up. That explains the smell. So instead of being killed for their actions, the reasoners were declared heroes, and were rewarded. Alright then, tell me you're drunk without actually telling me you're drunk.

Story two: story of

There was one street outside the market that had a LOT of bars, and people would get next level wasted, then continue with their days. The king didn't like them going against god's will, so he places down a fence.

They climb it

Ok, so that didn't work, uhhhhh- shoot- um let's place two moats. Unfortunately, a little water never killed anyone.

They go through it.

Most bars would now keep towels and combs to freshen up then get a drink. Plus, it was seen as a rite of passage now. If you went through the moats, you earned this, you may now get drunk.

Well that didn't work either. But worry not, he has another plan. The people seem to forget about god when they go out, so let's remind them. They placed a giant cross outside the moats, may god help them.

God did help them! Well, the cross did. If you climbed it and jumped, you could clear the moats, or at least the first one. Everything else is just history

Here are some very short anecdotes

1. After the population increased, the large housing wouldn't work, we needed small apartments, but, with one of the large areas, they made a prison. Every morning, the prisoners would have to go out onto the balcony, and publicly announce why they were in prison. This one absolute legend went out every day and basically said "I banged the kings wife", but instead of the expected jeers of disapproval, people cheered for him, he was a hero, seriously

At some point, Muslims were tried to be kicked out of the country by Catholics, who quickly said "wait, no, you're our scientists, doctors, and other genius minds, come back pretty please". And at some point down the line, said Muslims wanted to build something to bridge the gap between Spain and a country down south.

Soon, the people sent out to plan the build came back and said "let's not build it"

"Why"

"Let's invade it"

"Do you really think we're capable"

"Kinda"

"Burn your boats"

"W-what?"

"You heard me. Prove y'all aren't a bunch of wusses and burn your boats so you can't just flee home"

"Alright bet."

They burnt the boats, and conquered the land. These guys were awesome and they knew it.

3. Just a fun note about the roofs of most buildings, which are terracotta. Why does this matter? Terracotta is mostly used in colder places cause' it's good at trapping heat, and the Hapsburg people know that, so they use that for the roofs in Spain? Which has an annual heatwave… the people of Hapsburg were powerful, just not the brightest

The royal family tree at this point is just a decorative reef. I say this because of their incessant inbreeding. So come a later generation, the fact that the current king lived till 40 is honestly a miracle. His organs just didn't work, and he had no heir. They were going to go with an uncle (who was also a sibling), but France already had their face pressed to the glass of the wall.

"Actually, there was an affair, the third to the Throne of France is next in line of Spain"

So the Spanish were like "can't argue with that I guess"

Then the English crash the party and say "no me"

"Why"

"Cause we want to, man I dunno"

Then they all go to war about it

5. So the population just quadrupled, but food supply hasn't, so how do we encourage more people to work on a farm? Got it, free food. So if you work on a farm, you get one coin to buy either food or a drink. If I had been working in the heat for half a day, I'd want nothing more than a cold Diet Coke, but they don't have Diet Coke, they have wine, so they buy wine! They then go back to the farms tipsy, tired and hungry. The king than says "How about two coins"

So they can buy food and wine. Emphasis on "can". Because sure you can buy both things, or, you can buy TWO TIMES AS MUCH WINE BABYYYYY

So now they came back to the farms absolutely levered, and still pretty hungry. So now, the king, says "ALRIGHT SUCKERS. BECAUSE YALL ARE INCOMPETENT, IT IS NOW A LAW, THAT ALL WINE MUST COME WITH FOOD."

It's not a law anymore, but some places still do it.

6. When they had to come up with an emblem for Barcelona, they quickly decided on a bear. Around their city are seven stars used to mark different blocks, sounds an awful lot like ursa major right? Funnily enough the trees surrounding the city and eating the berries.

This wouldn't be an issue if the church didn't run a wine business (ironic right?) The berries taken by these bears were needed to make the wine, so they went to the king and said "Get rid of them" "Counter proposal: no."

And they were worried about their business, but then told not to worry about their business, well shut it down. Now. :)

And so that happened, and now there's a new emblem, a bear, climbing a tree. The tree represents the church, and the bear represents the crown. If you look closely, you can see the bear eating the berries. This has to be the pettiest story ever.

7. You're being lied to. If you look up "why is Madrid the capital?" You're told it's because they're in the center of the country, opposed to Toletho, the old capital . But here's the thing, the center's between the two equidistantly. Would you really give up good geography and military, for a "city" with three crumbling buildings, that's be the a meter closer to the center? No!

So what actually happened was more pettiness. Basically, the king and arch bishop are both difficult people, and are pent up together in a palace. The king gets fed up and says "We're leaving!" "Why!?" "New capital let's go!" "Alright I guess"

Issue is that other places are too marshy, too dry, too mediocre whatever. The kings servants are pissed off that the kings being so whiny, so they mansplain malewife manipulate him.

They tell him: "ya see that hill up there? You should go check it out, tell us if it's any good"

So he walked all the way up there on foot. So now he's tired, hot but a little less angy. He looks around at modern day Madrid, tours its whopping three broken buildings, his men knew he wouldn't like it much, so after some contemplation, he makes his way back down.

"Guys guys shut up he's coming back"

"I've made a decision"

"Mhm?"

"I…

LOVE IT"

dammit

So they build a capital outta that hellhole! Or- hell hill, more accurately.

8. Fast forward, the most commonly talked about location in Madrid is likely the royal palace, but that's not the original.

The late king hates this place, so when he asks to leave, they tell him

"Are you drunk!?"

"Probably, all we drink is wine. Anyway, may I-"

"No. Now you may not."

So that shuts him up for four years, then on Christmas Eve on year, the house MYSTERIOUSLY burnt down.

"OH NO! The castle I loved so much has BURNT DOWN! For non suspicious reasons uncorrelated to me! What a shame that is not my fault"

"Alright,do you have plans for a new place"

"Coincidentally yes"

So he pulls out this house plan from his childhood home, and says

"Do that, just bigger"

So the architect makes it twice as big; and now there's that monster of a building everyone's talking about. I'm not even kidding, 3481 rooms. Damn! If you lived in every room for only a night it would take you more than 9 years!

That's it :)

[vintageseawitch]

if there are any twilight book sequels written then published, i promise to look up spoilers because if i find out the Volturi decide to create hybrids of their own (🤢🤮) then i will refuse to read let alone own them. as curious as Aro may be about it, it's horrendous that he would try it out himself. the creation of hybrids is legitimately terrifying body horror to me & even Aro's "indifference" towards humans doesn't automatically make him a psychopath about this sort of thing.

Aro, despite his penchant for ruthlessness, is a softie, too. i like to imagine the thought of putting a uterus-owner through such a specific & horrific form of torture fills him with revulsion & guilt. yes, humans are red-eyed vampires' food, but even humans get disturbed at the thought of animals they consume going through needless pain especially for selfish reasons.

at this point the canon of this silly franchise means approximately shit to me so if smeyers decides to make her refined, considerably more interesting clan of vampires into true monsters, she can fuck right off because they deserve better than that. they're not villains simply because they're doing what is natural to them & the Cullens are a creepier cult than the Volturi will ever be. at least everyone knows that the three kings are dangerous. the Cullens are too busy being gentrified hypocrites (completely beige & lacking a good, old-fashioned dungeon & set of coffins... the dark drama is what draws us to vampires in the first place & someone like Forever Emo Teenager McWalking Red Flag scoffs at such things like a good little boring creeper on top of them actually not giving a damn about humans considering how in midnight sun it's clear they wouldn't have batted an eye at killing bella because said little boring creeper - or the prodigal son 🙄 - can barely control himself around her like it's her problem to deal with. glob i hate that & his losing control around her would make their "lives" a Little Bit Uncomfortable lmao) with Whatever The Fuck Weird Dynamic they have going on.

if anyone would be cruel anyways, it would be Caius out of the three kings, but i refuse to believe even he would go that far. a part of it is the thought of needing to be close to a human like that would disgust him but another is at least when they feed it's quick. if anyone is to endure a terribly long torture it would be Nahuel's biological father because he's a real monster. like, yes, somehow the Volturi never found out about hybrids, but they never went & tried to find out what would happen themselves.

i like to think the more the three kings researched it the more horrified they would be, but that could just be my biases & preferences showing. bella & edward's daughter displays disturbingly similar compulsory "abilities" or however one would describe them like Immortal Children because everyone's sudden pull to her after she touched them is WAY too similar to the enchantment vampires experience around the latter type of child so i think the Volturi (especially Jane) would be weirded out by that connection considering how long they've studied them.

i'm not saying every hybrid is like bella & edward's kid, but i'm pretty sure Aro noticed that neither she nor the rest of the family really like or trust the Volturi that much PLUS the Romanians are some of her favorite vamps. pretty sure that has put the Volturi on their guard (so to speak) (also Carlisle what the FUCK why are you being so weird about the Volturi. why tf does edward have his stupid attitude about them whyyyy make them your enemy especially considering the drama in new moon & eddie blatantly disrespecting the ancient group by expecting them to be Suicide Assistance as though that's what they're there for & have nothing better to do & Aro doing you a MASSIVE favor). ya know, as pretty as he's portrayed in the movies, i'm liking him as a character less & less (he's the biggest hypocrite of them all & playing a dangerous game of delusions - like hun, sorry, but no matter how much you pretend, you are not a human any longer & maybe you don't realize it (or WANT to) but you totally think you're better than humans seeing as you bend their rules especially if it's for your extremely problematic red-headed "son" - but THEN AGAIN you're certainly good at wiping out local wildlife like big predators so maybe you're more like humans than you think & i mean that as a slur).

i totally get derailed in my little rants on here & i'm only a little bit embarrased since this is pretty much how my brain works & how i talk lmao so tl;dr if the Volturi become the worst kind of monsters in future books when it comes to hybrids (aka "making their own" 🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮), smeyers can fuck right off some more & the Cullens & their creepy cult & creepier hybrid kid are the worst. i still like Emmett though even if he chooses to stick around the problematic bunch (pretty sure Carlisle has a gift as well; it's amazing that so many vampires are not only able to live with each other peacefully but rigidly stick to a diet that is unnatural to their kind - a kind of creature that follows their instincts above almost most things. oh Carlisle, you certainly transferred your wild need to repress almost too exceedingly well).

[anti-dazai-blog]

9- Akutagawa gets introduced to his inferiority complex (and other complaints) 

When I say that every single line Dazai says in this chapter has some sort of annotation from me, I really do mean every. single. line. He can’t even say one thing that’s remotely decent to say to people.

Before even opening his mouth, Dazai has already disrespected Akutagawa. As Akutagawa enters into the dungeon, Dazai makes a point of blatantly ignoring his arrival. He stands there singing to himself instead of giving Akutagawa the basic respect of glancing at him. All Akutagawa wants from him is acknowledgement, and yet he won’t even acknowledge his existence, let alone competence. Even prior to Akutagawa physically showing up in front of Dazai, there are sound effects for him descending the stairs. Either the stairs are naturally very noisy, or Akutagawa was walking loudly on purpose, as a way of catching Dazai’s attention. Either way, Dazai won’t give a single shred of attention to him unless he chooses to for the sake of brutally insulting and degrading his former subordinate.

And things only get worse from here. When he first chooses to notice Akutagawa, his first words to him are “Oh.. you were here?”, as if he wasn't aware Akutagawa was here until now; as if Akutagawa is too insignificant to warrant the time and effort it would take to glance at him. 

Next Dazai brings up Akutagawa’s torturous mafia training that took place in this very same dungeon. “Remember when you were still a rookie..” he says. He brings up that he was his “former boss”, reminding Akutagawa of his place. Reminding Akuatagwa that Dazai was, is, and always will be his superior. There’s a certain famous analogy of an elephant in a circus that applies well to Akuatagwa’s current situation. The elephant is captured at a very young age, when it’s still small. To keep it in place, a rope is tied to its leg, and the rope is then secured to a stake. The baby elephant will try and struggle to pull at the rope and escape, but all its efforts are futile. It learns that it can’t break free, no matter how hard it tries. As the elephant grows to its full size, the rope’s and stake’s size stay the same. Once the elephant is an adult, it can easily tear the rope and stake out of the ground by taking one tiny step. But it doesn’t. It learned as a child that the rope will hold it in place, no matter what. It learned that it’s pointless to struggle. So even though it has grown, and even though the rope is nothing more than an imagined barrier between the elephant and freedom, the elephant will stay put. It will forever be tethered to a small, flimsy rope. 

Dazai’s the rope. He holds no power over Akuatagawa at the moment. He has no authority to tell him what to do. On the contrary, he is Akutagawa’s prisoner. And yet the years of grueling mafia training have conditioned him to always view Dazai as the superior he desperately needs the approval of, rather than the cowardly traitor he is [or rather, the cowardly traitor the mafia should view him as].

“It was quite an ordeal training you.. You’re a poor student”, says Dazai. You know those teachers who boast about how no one passes their courses? The only reaction of the students often is something along the lines of “why don’t you do your job properly and teach us, then?” The same should be Akutagawa’s reaction. He was difficult to teach? I doubt it, he’s a hard worker, and very dedicated to doing his best for the sake of earning Dazai’s approval. He has a strong ability, he seems to be a fast learner; in short, he would be the ideal student for anyone to train. Yet Dazai had impossible standards and unreachable expectations to meet. And instead of owning up to his own shortcomings as a teacher, he pushes the blame onto Akutagawa, claiming that he was at fault for not being a better student.

He continues with “and you were quick to take action”. As if that’s a bad thing. Sure, Akutagawa probably jumped into things a bit too quickly, but teaching him not to would be Dazai’s responsibility. Being quick to take action keeps you alive in the Port Mafia. Being quick to take action is the only way to survive in the Port Mafia. It’s a good trait. It’s a necessary trait. Dazai should hone and improve this skill Akutagawa's lucky enough to possess, not insult it and frame it as a character flaw on Akutagawa’s part.

He discourages Akutagawa from perfecting this skill that he could use a bit of work perfecting. Yet next he says “and your ability is junk”, as if he needs to improve in the area of his ability. It’s exceedingly clear that he doesn’t. He’s incredibly skilled as it is. And to whose detriment would it be to if not the agency- or more specifically, Atsushi– if he got any better at using Rashomon. And of all things, what right does Dazai have to declare which abilities are and aren’t junk. Dazai, the guy who never had to truly fight against an ability in his life. He never personally had to fight against Rashomon— he couldn’t even if he wanted to. He has no right to call Rashomon, or any other ability, junk.

Akutagawa at least has the sense to defend himself— he has every right to, after enduring Dazai’s mockery for the past ten minutes. So he threatens to destroy the agency. It would be a decent enough threat, if only Dazai cared even a little bit about the overall well-being of the people he works with. So Dazai replies with “Do you have it in you?”, further provoking him to go through with his threat. Mori says in a later chapter that Akutagawa has a habit of going off on his own. Dazai surely knows this. Dazai surely knows that regardless of what Akuatagwa’s orders are, he may ignore them for the sake of fulfilling whatever his own goals are. Dazai provokes him to go ahead and attack his so-called friends, just for the sake of it. Just to prove that Akutagawa’s threats are meaningless to him, and by extension, so is Akutagawa.

And now- This is the part you came here to read, isn’t it? This one specific line. This one thing Dazai says that’s unanimously declared a Supreme Asshole move. You know what I’m referring to. I doubt I even have to say it. 

But of course, that’s the purpose of this blog. I place a spotlight on both the not-so-obvious and obvious Dazai Crimes equally. 

“My new boy is far more talented than you ever were”

There’s so much wrong with this. It’s an overall cruel thing to say, for so many reasons. I’m sure someone could write a whole essay on that line alone. But I’m just gonna give a quick little summary of my personal favorite reasons why Dazai should get hit by a truck for saying that—

It’s yet another ploy for setting up Atsushi and Akutagawa as rivals. Dazai has decided that giving Akutagawa a reason to deeply and personally hate Atsushi would be good for their rivalry and partnership. In doing so, he puts Atsushi in immense danger by causing Akutagawa, someone who’s already incredibly strong and powerful, to have a personal grievance against him. 

It also puts Akutagawa in danger, because Atsushi also has a strong and powerful ability, but unlike Akutagawa, he hasn’t fully mastered controlling it yet. Even if Atsushi doesn’t want to kill him, he could easily do so by accident, on instinct, in a fight. 

Akutagawa is trying his best to earn Dazai’s approval. The lack of Dazai’s approval is literally the area he’s most self-conscious about in life. Dazai knows this, and chooses to attack him in this way on purpose. This falls right into the category of “Dazai knows your deepest hopes and fears, and will have a great time toying with them, just for the fun of it”.

Not only is this cruel, but it’s uncalled for and off-topic. No one brought up Atsushi. No one mentioned the weretiger. No one was talking about how skilled or not skilled Akutagawa is. Dazai just says this out of nowhere. Seems like he was waiting to say this the whole time. 

Dazai’s whole thing with creating sskk [the duo] is to mimic his own partnership with Chuuya. Their partnership was incredibly dysfunctional in its own right, but there was at least some semblance or illusion of equality between them. By the way Dazai’s setting up sskk [the duo], he’s creating a pair of people where one of them will constantly feel inferior to the other. Atsushi doesn’t spend any time comparing himself to Akutagawa, but Akuatagwa was “behind” Atsushi from the start. Dazai told him so. Dazai told him outright that Atsushi’s superior to him, and so Akutagawa will spend the rest of bsd trying to catch up to someone who is actually his equal (or quite possibly less powerful than him). There was absolutely no reason to give Akuatagwa an inferiority complex that he didn’t previously have.

And in the very next scene, Akuatagwa goes and stabs Atsushi straight through the chest. He blatantly ignores the fact that the weretiger is wanted alive, and now his only goal is to prove to Dazai that he’s superior to his new protégé. So look at what you’ve done, Dazai. You went and got Atsushi stabbed. I hope you’re proud of yourself.

Join me next week when I talk about.., Oh I don’t know.. STILL the dungeon scene. It goes on for three whole chapters, I think. That’s a bit too much dungeon for my tastes. I’m already exhausted after only one chapter of this. 

[dragonmasterkaylz]

Wife of Poseidon

WARNING: Contains Smut, Rape & Brutal Murder. If you are sensitive to these topics or under the age of 18, don’t read. Also, if my interpretation of Poseidon is a little off, I do apologise. And he is a little (very) yandere in this. This also contains a character of my own making… so if you don’t like that, don’t read it.

Within Poseidon’s Palace, lives a beautiful woman with gorgeous blue hair that almost sparkled in the light. Her eyes matched the blue of the ocean and her body was so voluptuous, only wearing a white bodysuit with golden accents and pale blue jewels on her collar and her hips. Along with gloves and matching stockings, a sheer blue material connecting her outfit together and trailing behind her. Her name is Aquamarie and she was Poseidon’s Queen.

She was beyond beautiful in Poseidon’s eyes and the perfect Queen for him due to her Humility and Kindness. And no one was allowed to look directly at his Queen unless they wanted their head to leave their shoulders. The God wasn’t necessarily worried that another man would steal his Queen from him, especially since she had already pledged her loyalty to him and loved him unconditionally. He just didn’t want his beautiful wife to be tainted with another ones gaze, especially from his servants.

She walked down the Palace, and into the Throne Room, only to find a bunch of dead servants and her angry husband. ‘Oh dear! Isn’t it too early for this?! I only just woke up!!!’ She ran over to him and asked, “What happened?!!” He looked at his wife and gently stroked her cheek, making her blush and smile under his gentle touch. “They were tainting you with their with words of lust and perversion, thinking I wouldn’t hear them. Anyone who thinks like that about you must be taken out… no questions asked. Now, let’s leave… I wouldn’t want their blood to taint your loveliness”, he told her.

The other Gods believed that Poseidon was actually using Aquamarie more as his property than his actual wife. But the truth was far sweeter. She is the only woman that understands him, the only woman to love him for the brutal God he is, and the only woman he could love. Which is exactly the reason why he wouldn’t want anyone to taint her with their disgusting words, touch or even sight. This was just in his nature, to keep his wife from experiencing anything he deemed unworthy of her.

“Poseidon… you really must stop killing our servants though, or else you won’t have any left. Next time, just try throwing them in the dungeon”, she suggested. He hummed and asked, “Do you disagree with my methods?” She sighed and gently placed her hands on his chest before saying, “Of course not. But you should think about this logically. You cannot always resort to violence when things start to displease you.” He hummed and walked past her before saying, “You know I cannot do that my love. There are reasons for my titles, and I cannot throw that away by suddenly becoming merciful.”

Aquamarie stood next to him in silence and he looked at her before suddenly stopping in his tracks. “Hm…?” She stopped and turned back to look at him. His stance was almost as solid as rock, but she giggled when she saw the softness in his eyes… as well as the slight blush in his cheeks. She placed her arms around him and then kissed him gently. Poseidon closed his eyes and kissed her back, making every servant watch. He only had one weakness and that was the beautiful woman in his arms. No one would think that ‘The Most Fearsome God’ had a soft side and that’s because only his wife saw it. If anyone else did… they were killed.

“I’m sorry… I should’ve kissed you as soon as I saw you”, she said with blush coating her cheeks. He then whispered in her ear, “That’s going to cost you later, my beloved.” Then he held her hand and walked to the meeting room, where many other Olympian Gods and Goddesses were. Hermes bowed respectfully in their presence and then said, “Lady Aquamarie, I have tea and cakes laid out for you.” She smiled happily and said, “Thank you Hermes~!” And then she took her seat next to her husband before looking happily at her spread. “I see that your wife has a sweet tooth, brother!”, Zeus said with a smirk. “Hmph.” “Silent as ever I see.”

After the meeting was over, Poseidon walked out with his wife, who was still eating cake. “Hmm~, delicious~!” He looked at her and sighed before grabbing her chin, making her look at him. “You’re a messy eater…”, he said to her before licking her chin and then her lips. She blushed heavily and finished eating, before looking up at him. “Hm… not my first choice. But it’s not bad either”, he said to her before walking away. “H-Hey…! You can’t just do something like that and then walk away as if nothing happened!”, she protested. He chuckled at the claim she was making and then said, “Don’t dawdle then… come here if you want me to pleasure you but also punish you for not kissing me as soon as you woke up.”

Hours later, in the bedroom, Poseidon had his wife begging for mercy under his surprisingly gentle touch. He had already cum inside of her multiple times but he didn’t let her cum once, overstimulating her. Aquamarie begged and begged as he trusted into her while playing with her clit, making her scream out. He smirked and kissed her neck as he used his other hand to squeeze her breast. “M-My Lord… Poseidon~…! I’m begging you…!!! It won’t happen again…!!! Let me cum~…!!!”, she begged as she leaned her head back on his shoulder. Poseidon loved the fact that his wife was a masochist, but even he knew that she had her limits. She tried to stop herself, but she started to squirt into his hand. He smirked and whispered, “Don’t you dare… not until I finish inside of you again, my dearest.”

She screamed as she was put onto her hands and knees. He spanked her a few times, making sure red marks were present on her. Then he held her hips pretty hard, hoping bruises would form on her beautiful body. He leaned down and kissed her skin, leaving more and more markings on her. He wanted the entire world to know that she belonged to him and only him. She was his Queen, his Wife, his beloved and hopefully one day… the Mother of his children. “I want to breed you…”, he confessed. “Then please… breed me. I want your children~”, she responded before turning around so she could look at him. He kissed her and then said, “Cum with me, my love.” Poseidon grunted as he felt himself cum inside of her once more, but that was nothing compared to her screaming as she came. “POSEIDON~!!!”

Aquamarie fell on their bed as he pulled out of her and gently pulled her into his arms, kissing her head. A giggle escaped her lips and she kissed his cheek. “That was mean.” He smirked and then kissed her properly before saying, “But you deserved divine punishment for not kissing me this morning.” She cupped his cheeks and brought him down for another kiss, wrapping her arms around him. “Hmm… don’t tempt me to fuck you again.” “Hehe~. I won’t… I don’t think my hips can handle it…”, she replied. Poseidon rested her upon their bed and kissed her cheek. “Rest up, my love.” “I will.” As he exited the room, fully clothed, a few servants wanted to exact revenge on the God for his ruthless nature.

Poseidon sat on his throne, looking as bored as ever. His wife was sleeping, there were no more meetings for the day, so he felt as though he could just fall asleep then and there. He closed his eyes and smiled as he thought about his beloved Queen and their future children. But that was interrupted by Aquamarie’s scream. His eyes widened and he grabbed his Trident before heading straight to his bedroom, only to see a few of Aquamarie’s maids outside, attempting to get in. “Stand back!”, he ordered. Once they were out of the way, he kicked the door down, taking it off its hinges and walked in.

His eyes widened at what he saw. Three of his servants having their way with his defenceless wife. Her eyes almost had no colour in them as they fucked her from behind, fucked her mouth and took pleasure in the sight of Poseidon’s wife being violated by them. “You filthy bastards…!”, he said, his voice filled with rage as he pulled the one watching away from her and skewered him with his Trident, not killing him though. He then pointed the bloody Trident at the other two and shouted, “Get your filthy cocks away from my wife, this instant!!!” His orders were clear, but they were ignored.

Aquamarie then screamed as one of them grabbed her hair, pushing himself further inside, hurting her. Tears ran down her cheeks, which was the last straw for him. He grabbed the one violating her mouth and threw him against the wall, knocking him out. “I’m sorry my dear…”. And finally used the end of his Trident to push the other against the headboard, knocking him out as well. His wife then crawled up to him and hugged him. “I-I’m sorry…!!!” “Don’t you dare apologise… they’ll be receiving the worst punishment possible for this”, he whispered back to her. “Maids! Take care of my Queen and clean her up!” They obeyed immediately and two of them helped her stand up before placing a robe around her.

While the servants were being tortured, the maids cleaned her up, and then got her to rest in a hot spring just after her bath. “Is that all, my lady?”, one of them asked. “Yes… please tell Poseidon where I am. I want to see him.” “Of course. Please have a lovely rest”, the maid said before leaving. Tears ran down the Queens cheeks and she cried into her hands, as she felt as if she had betrayed her own husband. The maid walked down into the dungeons and approached Poseidon, bowing in the process. “My Lord… Queen Aquamarie would like to see you in the hot springs as soon as possible.” “Alright…”.

The Tyrant of the Seas was covered in blood, looking at the three servants who violated his beloved wife. They weren’t so much as allowed to look at her, so the crime they committed deserved a fate worse than death. “Call Hades and make sure these three are tortured in the Underworld for all eternity”, Poseidon said as he walked away. “Yes, my Lord.” The God showered himself and washed away the blood before heading towards the Hot Spring, which he only had in his Palace since Aquamarie loved the ones in Japan. He wasn’t too fond of humans, if anything he hated them. But he tolerated their customs, especially if his wife did.

Poseidon wasn’t surprised to see his wife crying on the side of the hot spring. He got in the water alongside her and gently pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry…! I’m sorry!” He rubbed her back and said, “I told you not to apologise. You were asleep, tired and sore. They used that to their advantage… but I can assure you, that they’ve been punished for their actions.” She nodded, but that did not stop her from crying her heart out. Unlike most Gods and Goddesses, she did not have a heart of steel and was very gentle. He kissed her and placed a hand over heart, as if he wanted to heal it. “Hey… you’re still having my children”, he reminded her. She giggled and said, “Yes… Yes I am~.”

END