#and obviously if you're given an official position there will be more responsibilities

[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

What would the daily life of your cult members look like?

lol not sure what you're expecting. i mean, right now? or rather, whenever i actually officially start "recruiting" people? probably not much will change for a person at first. it's not like you're gonna have a strictly regimented daily schedule or anything. the goal is to build a community of like-minded kindred spirits and strive to put our ideas into practice. those specific ideas will be revealed upon joining, obviously. though i'm sure you can get an idea of some things based on my posts.

[dr-futbol-blog]

Runner, Pt. 2

They gate to the planet with the high UV radiation index in a puddle jumper, and where Sheppard is obviously steering, McKay has taken the second seat. Previously, McKay usually sat behind Sheppard and Ford had the second seat, probably because it's the gunner's position and Ford was the most useful person to sit there and look at targets for him. Regardless, McKay has changed seats and taken what would be his rightful place by his side. Riding shotgun is the privilege of a significant other, and while they may not be together-together anymore, they are still significant to each other.

However, we don't know how McKay wound up sitting there--whether he claimed the seat, ended up there by chance, or whether Sheppard had wanted him to take the seat. Given that Lorne, his new second in command is on board, a case could be made for him to have taken the seat. But then, McKay and Teyla are on his own team, so the privilege should probably have gone to one of them. And a case could also be made for Teyla, as a lady, to have been given the privileged seat. But alas, it is McKay that we find next to Sheppard. And this is their usual seating arrangement from hereon out.

They land the jumper, and we find Sheppard and McKay bickering with that old married couple energy:

Sheppard: Life signs detector's useless. McKay: I told you so. Sheppard: Just preserving your streak of being right? Officially.

McKay's "told you so" is given with such gusto that it's pretty telling. It also informs us that we are once more missing a part of this scene because we did not, in fact, hear McKay "tell him so." But Sheppard's response to him here is strange. What does he mean, officially? Why does he say it with a playful smirk and raising his eyebrows in a way that indicates there's some backstory to this? When we look at the previous episode, McKay wasn't right the whole time and in fact Sheppard got more things right than McKay did. His streak of being right, whether official or unofficial, cannot be a reference to the events of the previous episode. And the way McKay says "told you so" makes it seem as though it's not the first time he's said it in recent times.

It's possible McKay has been pointing out more errors for Sheppard and in Sheppard's behaviour than he had done previously. It's not that he was previously giving Sheppard "best behaviour Rodney" but when someone is in love, they tend to see the other person through rose-coloured glasses, being blind to their flaws. When you're in love, letting their flaws slide is natural. But it seems as though by this time, they are both severely chafing on each other, intentionally or unintentionally getting under the other's skin, and so they are both bringing out the worst in each other in a vicious circle. McKay is behaving like a haughty know-it-all and Sheppard is being a snooty asshole, going back and forth, back and forth. Truly they are a match made in heaven. And while neither of them wants to be like this, they seem helpless to break the cycle.

But, even though it might not seem like it, they are both trying to make this work. They are putting in the effort to stay professional:

McKay: Doctor Parrish believes that the indigenous plant life retains enough residual radioactivity absorbed during the daylight to, well, to screw up our sensors. Sheppard: Making it the perfect place to hide. McKay: Yes, or the perfect place to be exposed to dangerously high levels of solar radiation!

McKay is being Sheppard's science officer. He is giving him factual information to make his decisions by. And he's not wrong, either. Especially for the two of them with their recent radiation exposure, this planet presents a clear risk. And while it's not even that Sheppard doesn't believe McKay, it's that he's being entirely too stubborn to actually hear what the other man is saying, and this stubbornness has very little to do with Ford. But Sheppard, too, is trying to remain professional, giving them orders based on his strategic evaluation of the situation.

He also gives a manly grunt as he adjusts his... weapon, which just may confirm Lorne's belief that Sheppard motivation for treating McKay the way he does here has to do with masculine performance, or McKay's lack of the same.

Sheppard: Start a sweep, teams of two. Radio contact every twenty minutes... How come it smells like I'm on vacation? McKay: Mmm, could it be the simulated tropical aroma of cocoa butter? Sheppard: Strong enough for anyone within five miles to smell you. McKay: Like they haven't been tipped off by the Aqua Velva? Sheppard: It's dark.

This exchange is fascinating.

For one, Sheppard loves the beach. We later learn that he likes surfing (in fact, he tells McKay in The Last Man (S04E20) that "surfing a thirty foot wave in Waimei is cool!", implying it's the best thing he knows). Also, when he has an actual vacation in Brain Storm (S05E15), he describes the destination as "a beach that's never been surfed or even touched" and in Travelers (S04E5), he's returning from "a tropical paradise" from a supply mission he had volunteered for. So, he loves the beach and ergo something that smells of vacation to him must be a really good smell. It's a smell that takes him right to his happy place (and also, while we're on his happy place, he turns to face McKay just as soon as he's out of the jumper; even now his body just cannot seem to bear to have his back turned to McKay). Interesting in this regard is the meaning of the name Rodney, often derived from "Rhoda's island" which is meant to evoke "images of breathtaking beaches, gold sand, and crystal clear water". And if this wasn't obvious enough, they later emphasize it by giving him the name Meredith, ruler or protector of the sea. John Sheppard loves the sea, is the thing. He loves the beach. And apparently when Sheppard is on vacation, cocoa butter is involved.

Now, did McKay know that it's one of Sheppard's favourite smells when he concocted the sunscreen? This, we can't tell. However, McKay himself seems to know what Sheppard smells like. Real up close and personal. He knows the aftershave Sheppard uses. He knows Sheppard's personal grooming habits. There is no earthly reason for a guy to know, and even less to have made a mental note of, another man's aftershave if they're just co-workers. And here, he's making a dig at Sheppard using this very personal information.

Interestingly, Aqua Velva is also a cocktail that one might have on a beach vacation, and McKay might be implying that he can tell Sheppard has been hitting the gin a little too much recently, which would admittedly put a pretty dark spin on this. Probably he didn't mean to imply this, as McKay is pretty straightforward with what he says, there's barely ever hidden meaning to his words. That's not how he operates, he's an open book. That, of course, doesn't mean Sheppard could have taken it that way, as he has a penchant for double entendre, especially in the case he actually had been drinking (and it's entirely within possibility that he has; the nights suddenly seem longer when you're not watching someone sleep like you used to).

Sheppard's response to McKay's dig is "It's dark," and the assumption is that this is an argument against wearing sunscreen. It's dark, hence the sun isn't up, hence there is no need for sunscreen. Only, he says "It's dark" as a response to McKay's line about the Aqua Velva. He makes it sound like his argument is that the enemies won't be able to smell his aftershave because it's dark, like that makes any sense. What Sheppard actually seems to have done is to ignore McKay's comment entirely, just skipping right over it, either because he didn't deem it worth answering or because he simply didn't have an answer to it. If he has been sleeping in his fatigues (and it seems as though he has), it's likely he has been skimping on other forms of grooming also, and splashing on some aftershave might have been an attempt at covering up the fact that he hadn't showered that morning. The fact that he was still wearing his fatigues from the previous day also suggests that this was the case; if one showered, they wouldn't put back on the rumpled clothes they slept in on. So, because McKay was still preserving his streak of being right, unofficially this time, he chose to ignore his comment instead.

But this whole exchange is again the two of them having a conversation inside a bubble of their own where the others are not invited. And given that most of the men are new recruits that don't really know either of them, it must be confusing for them to witness this interaction between their commander and his science officer. Sheppard is not behaving like a team leader and McKay is not behaving like someone who takes orders from this man. And the thing is, they don't need to be having this argument. They know where each other stands perfectly well without this exchange, and at the end of the day, they both want the same thing. They want to bring Ford back to Atlantis and fix him without getting skin cancer or losing the ability to procreate children, so they're not really at loggerheads. They don't have a disagreement.

What they have, at the present moment, is an inability to connect with the other man outside of this unending bickering, because even this is better than not having any connection to the other at all. So, they both say a lot of unnecessary things:

McKay: Yeah, and the sun will be up in two hours, forty three minutes and... ten seconds. Sheppard: It's raining! McKay: So we'll be cold and miserable. Look, the cloud cover will depreciate a small percentage of UV rays, but ninety-five percent of deadly is still deadly.

Again, the audience is made to think that McKay is being unreasonably cowardly when it probably hasn't been more than a week since they both got a nearly lethal dose of ionizing radiation. But we can't really point to either of them as the instigator of the this bickering, of making these digs at each other. They are both behaving this way, they are clearly acting and re-acting. Other people also seem to get caught in the cross-fire (and it's interesting with regards to the next episode that McKay seems to hold nothing but contempt toward the science of Botany). As soon as McKay turns his attention on Lorne, Sheppard tries to be the grown-up and actually splits himself and McKay up:

Sheppard: Teyla, you're with me; Coughlin, take Billick; Reed: you and Sherman cover the Gate; and Major, you've got McKay. Lorne: Oh, lucky me...

Now, Lorne clearly thinks that he got put on baby-sitting duty because McKay is the weakest link, he's the science officer with no field experience that needs looking after and as the second highest official, second most capable person militarily, he's the best person to look after him. And this is partially true. McKay is not a soldier, he has no combat experience. His field experience is limited. He does need someone to watch over him, to keep him safe. And it's logical for Lorne to come to this conclusion, as the tone Sheppard uses, he makes it sound like he's tired of McKay's bellyaching and hence wants someone else to take him on. Actually, Sheppard's internal conflict comes through in how he first says "And Major" with the tone of listen well, this is the most important thing in the world, but then the "You've got McKay" comes out in a tone that's more neener, neener, as he quickly takes off so as to avoid any backlash from McKay for his decision. Clearly, while he needs Lorne to look after McKay, he doesn't want either of them to know just how vulnerable this makes him.

Now, Sheppard could have either taken this task on himself or put anyone else on it. But Sheppard knows that since he himself is going after Ford, it would pose the most danger for McKay to be with him right now. He chose Lorne because he does think that he's the most capable fighter after himself. He chose Lorne to be McKay's personal bodyguard because he trusts him enough to be able to perform this task. He had chosen Lorne for his second in command, and he believed that Lorne would be able to take on Ford if it came down to that. Sheppard paired McKay with Lorne because he still cares about McKay, and he is damned if he's going t let anything happen to him. What ever Lorne might think, he didn't pair Lorne up with McKay but McKay with Lorne, and there's a world of difference in that.

Bitchy though he might (currently) be, McKay is the most important person in Sheppard's life, and he's not going to let anything happen to him. He's not taking any chances with his life. And the thing is--he chose not to take McKay with himself for that exact reason. He doesn't think that he's the best person to look over McKay and keep him safe, especially not now. He is distracted by McKay at the best of times but currently, the way they are bickering, if they had paired up together anyone would have heard them coming a mile away. There is no way they could have kept quiet. Even though neither of them wanted to talk about the important stuff, the stuff they should have talked about, neither of them could shut up around each other either. They both need each other's attention, and they'll clearly take it any way they can.

And given that Sheppard can't keep himself from making snide digs at McKay or from responding to the other man's subtle barbs, there is not a way in hell they can form a team of two on this mission. He needs to be able to concentrate, especially because a slip in his concentration might lead to McKay getting hurt. So, he chose the second best thing for McKay, his second in command. He trusts Lorne to keep him safe. But Lorne doesn't get this, doesn't get how much Sheppard is trusting him with, doesn't understand the importance of what he has been trusted with. He thinks he got shafted, for some reason. He got the short straw, the short end of the stick. Like maybe his commanding officer doesn't quite trust him yet, like Sheppard might be testing him or something. Lorne doesn't know what Sheppard and McKay are to each other and the way they're behaving, there's really no way for him to even begin to guess.

McKay himself, he seems fine with this. But we've got to remember that for McKay, not being wanted is his core issue. It was the fact that Sheppard seemed to choose death rather than him that had hurt him the most. While Sheppard does get in 'the last word' here with this, because he doesn't understand how McKay thinks about this, he also doesn't get how far below the belt this last jab is for him. Yes, they're trading barbs, but it's not their intention to really hurt the other. And yet, that's what Sheppard manages to do here, and he doesn't even realize it because his thinking is so very different from McKay's in this.

For him, McKay is the single most important person in his life. There is no one else in two galaxies that matters more to him, and that's a fact. Put next to anyone from either galaxy, he would choose McKay ten times out of ten any time of day. And because this is so obvious to him, he can't even begin to understand why what he did hurt McKay so much. As far as he's concerned, he's doing what he thinks is best for McKay, he wants to keep him alive and safe. That's what you do for someone you love. Even when that means protecting them from yourself, which is what he does here, pairing McKay up with Lorne. But for McKay, it's high school athletics class all over again. He's chosen last because no one wants him. He's pawned off to someone who makes it clear they don't want to be paired up with him. For him, what Sheppard does is cruel.

But at the same time, this is familiar to him. McKay knows how to deal with Majors. He can break in another one. He at least tries to make friends with Lorne:

McKay: Here, try some. SPF 100. Lorne: A hundred? McKay: Yeah, can't buy this kind of protection. Make it myself. Waterproof too.

This is pretty interesting, too. First of all, McKay makes it himself. Fair enough. But Sheppard knew that he does this. Earlier, back in Weir's office, Sheppard said "Bring your sunscreen". Not "bring sunscreen," not "bring the sunscreen," not "put on some sunscreen," not any number of things he could have said if he was referring to general sunscreen, or just making a snide comment. He told McKay to bring his sunscreen, knowing that McKay has made his own sunscreen. Knowing that McKay had sunscreen that he had made for himself. Sheppard knew about McKay's sunscreen. Which is interesting in and of itself.

But then he tells Lorne that it's waterproof. Sunscreens generally aren't water resistant, although obviously there are waterproof ones out there and, if one had aspirations of swimming while wearing it, it would make sense to make it waterproof. So, it's possible he had made it with swimming in mind, whether for himself or for someone else that might canonically enjoy the ocean. OK. But what on Earth made him try his hand at mixing up body lotions in the first place? What, he's suddenly Alfred Garnier of Atlantis? From what we can tell, this man barely knows how to cook and probably survived mostly on instant noodles outside of institutional cafeterias his whole life.

The thing is, they probably didn't have a whole hell of a lot in the way of lubrication the first time they came from Earth. We don't know what the expedition's policy was on sex and sexual hygiene, whether bringing condoms and other assorted paraphernalia was a priority, but how ever much of this stuff they did bring with them, at some point during the year, it would have run out, just like the coffee. If there was any lube intended for sexual purposes to begin with, it would eventually have run out. And after that, just like the beans they attempted to substitute coffee with, it would have been up to them to come up with alternatives. And here, McKay is suddenly an expert in mixing up waterproof lotions. And let's not glide over the fact that he's using this to bond with Major Lorne, very possibly a closeted gay man in the military. He's letting Lorne know that if he's ever in the need of waterproof lotion, he's the man to see about that on Atlantis.

Granted, this sunscreen that smells of cocoa butter is not something Sheppard has smelled before--at least outside of the context of a vacation. Sheppard is not familiar with this lotion. But this does seem to be a new mixture, the fact that it has the simulated aroma of cocoa butter is a new thing. But it is interesting that McKay specifies that the sunscreen is waterproof here when sunscreens most often are not, whereas personal lubricants used for sexual purposes which are particularly useful in all manner of sex acts between two men due to a distinct lack of natural lubrication, well. What we know now is that McKay had, at some point in his life, learned how to make waterproof lotions that made the skin slippery with its base of vegetable butter. And we, as the audience, apparently really really needed to know this. Safe sex is important, after all. And I'm not saying he had made this particular lotion as lube, although it probably would work as such. I'm saying, he clearly has acquired the know-how to make sunscreen and other lotions through personal necessity.

And now we know this about him. Now we know this about them. They might not currently have any use for it beyond staving off radiation but they have used it in the past and they will use it in the future. And Sheppard won't mind if McKay's new stuff smells like a beach vacation. He won't mind at all.

Continued in Pt. 3

[refried-ghost]

Okay okay okay rewrite time.

PAK pinging lore.

The basic idea is that pinging is used to check up on people and to notify them you're doing so. But it can also be used to find people if needed.

There are different levels of permissions. Some broad, some personal. The higher rank one has the more IDs they'll be able to inherently ping. This brings a separation in the contact list. Personal and professional. The higher the rank the more likely those personal ones will have more strings attached.

Low level drones have to be very selective with who they give their permissions to since they don't get the privilege to block anyone. But also any upper ranks could easily get their information and track them if they wanted even if they hadn't given those permissions. Official complains can be filed with the Control Brains if it's about profession misconduct. But they typically don't do anything unless a large amount of complaints are filed.

Elites get the IDs of most other elites as well as anyone that maybe under their direct command.

Invaders get their contacts cut down. Left with only a reviewed personal list(lucky for them they get to do the review) and those directly under their command.

The Tallest Guard get the IDs of almost anyone who enters the Massive and where else the Tallest may have stationed themselves. They get a proximity function creates a third list sorting based on distance. They also get the option of a silent ping.

The Enforcers get nearly same the lists as the Tallest. With a proximity and priority function. Given their duties of infiltration, investigation, and assassinations the priority function lights up IDs. Shows that they belong to the particular sectors they are working stationed at. They have the options to manually tag IDs as priority. Their pings default are silent, but can be used as standard manually. All personal contacts are thoroughly reviewed, by their Control Brain, their Captain, and themselves. On a regular basis.

The Captain gets the Tallest's IDs, they are the only ones that can't be pinged silently. The Advisor, Lords, and Captain of the Tallest's Guard being the only others who inherently get their IDs. No matter the rank the response from the Tallest's PAK will always be a rest response unless the Tallest manually give temporary permissions. Expections being if 2/3rds of these people were to try and ping the Tallest in quick succession. Then all of the Guard, Enforcers and Advisors would receive a ping from the Tallest's PAK with relevant info.

The Tallest get everything. As well as getting to see what people's actual designations are since their isn't anyone above them. Obviously. All incoming personal pings are blocked unless permission is reissued by their leaders occasionally. The person lists themselves remain unaltered. The Tallest change their default at anytime.

Standard Pings. Pull basic PAK status; normal, damaged, critical, also well as vague location; which sector they're in relative to the senders position. A more honed distance can be manually manually requested. It's still rather vague though. Far too board to reliably find someone.

Rest Pings. A standard Rest Response simply receives them without sending anything back unless special permissions have been given.

In Rest Mode the PAK itself determines the information to share. If in a damaged state and not considering whoever is pinging to be threat it can give over as much information as it wants. A distress ping can be sent to all Irkens in the area. This sends the exact coordinates of the irken. This is not something waking Irkens get access to. However if in a critical state a PAK puts all of it energy into repair and healing. It will give a single standard Rest Response and then block all others until in a more stable condition.

Silent Pings. The Receiver doesn't get notified they are being pinged. These also send back reports on the receiver. Profession, rank, height, infractions. Silent Pings on Enforcers come back with false reports! Unless they're from the Tallest or their Captain.

Failed Pings. PAKs that are damaged in a particular way or destroyed or inactive can't receive pings. The sender will be notified of a Failed Ping. Glitches may occur were a PAK may flag a false fail. Irkens experiencing this problem are required to schedule an appointment with the nearest PAK technician. These glitches occur most often in PAKs that ping on a frequent basis.

[uchiha-kimimaro]

Sarada Time Skip

Respond to Madara-fate

1) If this had still been the case post-skip, I would have recognized it easily and I would have had nothing to say, but this was not the case, I was able to identify everyone, really everyone without difficulty, but not Sarada who became unrecognizable and that shocked me, « who is it » this is the first question that crossed my mind, I thought it was a joke, a fake and even with the officialization the same question remains, however she did not have the veiled face which would have prevented me to identify him as was the case for Shino. Post ellipse Shippûden, I recognized everyone, without asking myself « who is it » except Shino obviously, look at Sakura I was embarrassed because I had difficulty identifying a small perceived problem which was that Sakura's face seemed more youthful, less mature before the timeskip, but that's it. is quickly erased over time as it regains maturity and this little problem was not linked to Sakura's new look (hair, clothes) which is incomparable with Sarada.

2) I'll let you be the judge and review your position and try to understand - You don't know anything about this subject, you deliberately ignore the fanservice I have already observed it among your responses to other people, Sarada lolicon /libertine doesn't bother you, I don't know how you do it, you're simply indifferent, everything suits you, that's what separates us here. For me, although I am not a puritan, Sarada has always been indecent in the Boruto chapters, and even the Pierrot studios do not agree with you, since they dressed her in the outfit made by Kishimoto in Naruto Gaiden.

Where Sarada would be the most decent with the outfit she wears, it would be to work as a « trainer » like the young women with Jiraiya, they are not indecent for their professions, but would be for Kunoichi, know that,

Kishimoto never sexualized his female characters, including official art. But you would retort, « all this is barely visible, given how few times we see it », I would respond; in this sense, it is not false,

but that's no reason to trash her. Personally, the sexualization of female characters has never appealed to me anymore, I much prefer it when they are elegant, stylish and also classy and badass.

3) Come on, let's get a little serious, Sarada Uchiha already wore red and black, precisely red/qipao and black/arm protectors + stockings and I never associate that with Akatsuki, not even for 1 second and you won't find surely no one too, and why then ? Answer, firstly it is that red is the same color code as her mother, then red is major while black is minor, post ellipse, Sarada Ikemoto's red and black are of similar parity to Akatsuki it's is fragrant evidence and I am also telling you for more blatant « that the red clouds were missing », You, on the other hand, are the only person who has not seen this despite the blatant evidence, astonishing ! Here sure these fan-arts,

firstly her appearance, she really has a stylish look worthy of a Kunoichi, worthy of an Uchiha with the gunbai, then the long hair gives her an air of Mikoto, since she looks more like her father than like her mother, without glasses since Sarada has no reason to keep Karin's glasses, she is indeed Sakura's daughter and an Uchiha and Uchiha eyes are their main strengths, so why continued the madness of making her wear these What’s more, the bezel absolutely doesn’t embellish it ?! Sarada Uchiha is so much cuter without glasses staring at her, [ it's like with Aizen (Bleach) with glasses he is ordinary and without it he's handsome ], her Kunoichi outfit keeping its color code with the loose sleeves looks a lot like that of her father at the beginning of Shippûden, longer reaching below the waist and keeping the same arm guards + stockings and belt and the Byakugô like her mother, and she wears classic Shinobi sandals, everything here is family cultural references and nothing in out. But for you whether it is a family reference or « emancipate » of her references not causing you any concern, which differentiates us, I see no objective reason for Sarada to have left her family references we are only 15 years + 3 after the end of the original story, if it was 100 years and if this Sarada was only a long-time descendant of the Uchiha, that would be acceptable, the dress and family codes would have changed, even if I wouldn't like it, but no, she looks very bad. You will object to me if you suspect it « Were you hoping for a luxury Sarada, when she's not the MC ? » If it is true that she has a role completely below what she should have had [ deuteragonist MC role ], I don't think that everything is acceptable, Sumire, Chôchô & Himawari are much better than Sarada for a role not much better and also I can never imagine a Sarada outside of its family cultural references, so yes today wanting a Sarada in its references seems to be a luxury compared to the Sarada time skip.

4) Come on, come on, you're not serious yet, Sarada's hairstyle was similar to her mother,

post ellipse, it's repulsive, I'm positive, she no longer looks like anything, a foreigner, this cut looks lesbian, a bowl cut shorter than Rock Lee's, unimaginable, daring to give such a bare hairstyle of femininity for a main female character ! This makes no sense, there is no family reference here either! Ikemoto as NaruSaku-stan ridiculed Sarada once again by transforming her into a libertine, the choice of character design is important, that of Sarada implicitly testifies for/against her, is Sarada without a family reference to make her has « I do not know who ? » No ! Sarada does indeed have family references and her references are Uchiha and nothing else ! Sarada does not have spiky hair like her father or grandfather Fugaku, but rather straight hair like her mother, her grandmother Mikoto and her uncle Itachi, their hair always frames their faces.

These are the family references that Sarada should have had for her hairstyle, long hair, like her mother during her early childhood, her grandmother or her uncle, and without glasses, or in another way, contrary to her mother who at the beginning had long hair then kept it at the nape of the neck, Sarada started with hair at the nape of the neck and then had it long or even kept it as is. In a pinch and even if it causes me a lot of inconvenience and that pleases a certain fanbase, I would prefer that it is Karin's hairstyle (the 2nd preferably) because at least I know who she directly resembles and we know Karin's relationship with the Uchiha family, it can't be worse than right now. Can you imagine Yodo with the same haircut as Sarada Ikemoto ? ha ha.

5) Je n'en crois pas un mot ! - voir ci-dessus (4), - pas seulement pour ça -> (voir 3), évidemment, je ne parle que principalement de la nouvelle apparence, mais pas seulement, je parle aussi de manière générale de l'évolution de Sarada avec son père et aussi bien sûr du modèle conçu de Sarada, j'avance quelques petites théories, quand à l'intrigue globale de l'histoire, c'est l'histoire de Boruto qui n'a rien à raconter, donc on obtient la prophétie derrière les fagots, une discontinuité avec l'histoire originale, un très mauvaise fanfiction,

Sarada doesn't feel anything, even though she had to tell us, but alas, I can't stand her anymore, it's too painful, a 3rd category character in the same bag as the rest of the new generation and the old one, Sasuke & Naruto nerfed and only being stooges to honor Boruto, having a Sarada of « luxury » would have been like a vitamin cure for me, which would have helped me cope with the time skip, the levels no longer make sense with opponents supposedly « stronger » that Jigen of which we see nothing other than over-cheater and cosmetic effect like Code for his power ups, the least we could have done to help Sarada would have been to take those awful glasses off Karin because character design is always important except for one completely random character, that's how much respect Sarada is...

[mydekuacademia]

Hey! Hope you're having an amazing day! I saw your cry for Shinsou requests so I was wondering if you would write some headcanons of a secret relationship with Shinsou being outed, and like Class 1As reaction as well as Aizawa's? thankyouuu xx

B l e s s

I wrote this assuming Shinsou is in 1A, btw

(Sorry if there are typos, im tired af lol)

You first learned about him during the sports festival and were captivated by his skill

Why wasn't someone as talented as him in the hero course??? Obviously his quirk wasn't string against robots, but surely the school board must have seen how promising he was

You tried to talk to him after his match with Midoriya, but he was too caught up in his loss and conversing with his classmates to notice you

You finally managed to snag his attention when Aizawa brought you along to one of Shinsou's training sessions so he could experience different fighting styles

Shinsou recognized you from class 1A, so he immediately dropped into a defensive stance, hands shaking slightly

"Why are you shaking? It's not like I'm going to kill you"

He only scowled in response

"This is just training, I'm not out for blood"

He finally lowered his fists a bit. "Nobody in 1A knows restraint"

When you finally convinced him you were there to help him learn and weren't aiming to win, he allowed the session to begin

Your presence became a more regular thing during his training given that you and he really got along well

Aizawa even sent you alone sometimes if he had other things to do (the ultimate wingman)

You and Shinsou grew closer and closer over time and eventually started dating in secret

He wanted it to be a secret so people wouldn't bother you two. You were heroes in training, not regular high schoolers

This went on for a couple months when Shinsou was officially placed in your class

Your friends were curious about how you knew each other so well, but they bought the "training only" story

That is, up until hero training class one day

Todoroki's ice got a little out of hand, leaving you on the ground clutching your head

Shinsou was at your side before Todoroki had time to check on you

He gathered you into his arms and smoothed your hair back, gently patting around in search of bumps or blood. When you swatted his hands away, insisting that you were fine, he placed a kiss on your temple and eased you to your feet

The class was frozen in place, staring at you two from their positions around the gym

The Bakusquad minus Bakugou came running up to congratulate you two and beg for details

The Dekusquad hung back at a more comfortable distance and offered their congrats with warm smiles and thumbs up

Everyone else kind of nodded at you with small smiles

Aizawa, on the other hand, marched up behind you and Shinsou and grabbed your shoulders

"It's about damn time. Shinsou was getting distracted in training when you weren't there. I don't care if you go in each other's dorms, just leave the door open"

When your and Shinsou's faces were sufficiently red, he stalked away

[enchantedblackrose]

Merry Christmas Eve Eve!

**Not my picture. Google Images.**

This Thing Between Us

Pairing: Jay Halstead/Reader

Warnings: 1 F bomb near the end

Apologies, this has not yet been proofread by someone else. I was just too anxious to get it posted.

There's a knock on your apartment door which causes you to groan. You struggle to find the will to get off the couch and leave the warmth of your favorite sherpa blanket. In fact you contemplate not answering the door. You check your phone to make sure no one sent you a text about coming over.

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Then there's another knock with a little more force behind it this time. Sighing, your curiosity is getting the better of you. You pause your favorite Christmas movie before standing up. 

'Ugh, Christmas,' you think to yourself. It is a large contributor to your current funk. But it's not your fault you find the holiday incredibly romantic. You can blame Hollywood and American commercialism for that. A constant string of movies, songs, and commercials are crammed down your throat before Halloween every year. Most depict having someone special, someone to cuddle, to sip hot chocolate with, to take you ice skating, or decorate the tree and bake cookies, someone to love and loves you back. You're painfully single and apparently sadistic, self sabotaging yourself with that movie.

You open the door and are met with those familiar piercing eyes belonging to your partner. The other leading cause of your pathetic state.. You met at work, both being a part of the elite intelligence unit for the Chicago Police Department. You're fiercely dedicated to the job, as is he, but that didn't stop either of you from hooking up. You've been sleeping together for a few months. You thought you could handle it all. The friendship, the casual hook ups, working closely together, the undeniable chemistry you two shared, but somewhere along the way you found yourself falling in love. 

Scared of falling alone, of ruining everything, you've kept your feelings a secret. Instead you have, rather unsuccessfully, attempted to limit the hook ups, vowing to make a clean break.

Eventually.

You truly don't even know how you get yourself into these positions, but then you see him smiling at you as he leans on your doorframe and the how becomes a lot clearer. 

"I have a candy cane for you."

"Ugh, Jay," you groan. "I'm really not in the mood. You should have called. I-"

"No, I have an actual candy cane for you." He pulled the curved peppermint stick out of his coat pocket offering it to you.

"Oh. Uh...thanks." You take the candy cane, slightly confused.

"I'm on the way to meet a CI about the case.I thought maybe you'd wanna come along?"

"Yeah, sure. Let me get changed real fast." You indicate for him to come inside. He steps through the doorway, accidentally brushing against you. You catch a whiff of his familiar scent and you find yourself thinking about pulling him to you. But you remember he's here for work. 

Having been at your place quite a few times, he knowingly heads for your couch.You make your way to your bedroom. You're halfway undressed when you hear Jay laugh. You peek your head out to see what sparked the laughter. He sees you and points to your Christmas tree.

It's about 2 feet, strung with multicolored lights, topped with a star that's too big. It's pathetic and the whole thing looks like it could topple over at any given moment.

"What is that?" He exclaims, still laughing.

You huff and cross your arms. "Stop it. I haven't exactly had the chance to go out and buy a new tree." It's true. The case has you logging more hours than normal and your current mental state wasn't exactly inspiring your Christmas spirit, either. As you finish getting out of your sweats and putting on "real" clothes, you hear Jay still chuckling softly. As much as you want to be annoyed by him, the sound makes you smile slightly.

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Jay's informant has information that proves to be useful. You put in a call to the other members of the team. Soon enough there's a successful bust and several collars. Voight commends the team for a good job, then dismisses you all, rather quickly saying something about enjoying the start of the holiday when given the chance.

Jay takes you back to your place. You hesitate before getting out of his truck, struggling with your own conflicting wants.

"Do you wanna hang out for a bit?" You ask, losing your willpower.

He smiles and kisses your cheek almost brusquely. "I have some things to take care of."

You nod showing you understand, but hope the small smile you give is enough to hide your disappointment you can't help but feel. You slide out of his truck and give a careless wave bye. 

'It's fine,' you tell yourself repeatedly as you make your way up to your apartment. 'This is good even'. Obviously you were failing at breaking things off. This could be your chance. You start getting ready for the long, hot shower your body desperately needs.

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Feeling better than you have in awhile, you settle into your couch beginning your search for something to watch. A knock on your door interrupts. Unbelievable.

You open it to once again find Jay standing there, this time donning a red santa hat and holding an oversized box.

"What are you doi-"

He cuts you off. "Do you mind?" You step aside and he comes in placing the box down in the middle of your living room. For the first time you can see clearly what it is he's brought you.

You feel a wide grin take over your face. "You bought me a tree?" He notices your bright smile and beams back at you.

"I bought you a tree. And some decorations. They're in the boxes still in the hallway. I didn't know what you had." You rush to bring them in. Jay begins removing pieces of the tree from the box as you look through the ornaments and lights he's brought. You inspect each one thoroughly and with a smile. Occasionally Jay stops assembling the tree to look at you. When you feel his eyes on you, you turn to him.

"What?" But he just shakes his head and returns his focus to the tree. "You know," you start carefully, not wanting to appear ungrateful, "I do have a few ornaments from when I was a kid downstairs in the storage unit."

"Well, go get them," he grins."I'm good here."

You return a few minutes later. Jay turned on Christmas music while you were gone, as well as finished getting the tree up. The artificial evergreen stands at 6 ½ feet. With it's big, full branches it's easily the nicest tree you've had as an adult. 

Before he starts to string the lights up, he follows you to the couch where you sit with your small container of ornaments. You lift the lid carefully and begin showing them to him. There's an ornament with your name and date of birth on it. One has your kindergarten picture in it. You save your favorite for last and explain the sentimental value behind it. Jay listens intently as you speak and you swear you love him more for it. 

Together you both start decorating the tree, stopping only to make hot chocolate. Soon the tree is fully decorated and there's nothing more to do than admire it. You both sit on your couch taking it all in.

You curl into Jay and almost automatically he wraps his arm around you. "Thank you," you say softly. "For all of this." He pulls you tighter in response and begins combing his fingers through your hair, but the sweet action stirs something in you.

Sighing, you sit up. Jay looks up at you in alarm. "Hey. What's been going on with you? Hmm?" He nudges you playfully, but when you don't speak, he looks dejected and runs a hand quickly through his hair. He says your name softly. "C'mon. You know you can talk to me about anything and it's not like I haven't noticed you pulling away lately."

You look at him and swallow hard, unsure of what to say. "This isn't enough for me, Jay. I'm sorry. I thought it would be, but it's not."

"What's not enough? The tree? I thought you liked it?"

"No, not the tree! The tree's perfect. I love the fucking tree, okay?" Tears are starting to form as your emotions get the best of you.

"Then what? I'm gonna need a little more information. I'm sorry."

"I don't wanna be the coworker you screw around with. I wanna mean something to you, Jay! Not in the we're partners way, either."

"Aw, baby girl." Your heart aches at the endearment he's only ever used in your most intimate moments together. "Come here." He pulls you tight to him and as much as you don't want to, you welcome his strong embrace. He's quiet for a moment as he holds onto you and you're begging the tears not to fall. "I'm gonna need you to look at me." He gently pulls away and cups your face. He stares deep into your eyes. "This thing between us, it's for real; it's never just been casual for me and I am so sorry I didn't tell you that before now. I'm so in love with you."

There's no stopping the tear rolling down your cheek. Jay wipes it away with his thumb. "You mean that?" You ask, your voice hardly above a whisper. He nods. You smile. "I love you, too." The words are hardly out of your mouth before his lips are on yours. He pulls away after a moment, gently resting his forehead against yours.

Your eye catches the clock on the wall. 12:01 in the morning. It's officially Christmas Eve and the man you love, loves you. An almost inaudible laugh escapes you.

"What?" Jay asks, clearly puzzled.

"Nothing. I'm just happy."

[acciocriativity]

You and Me II || Harry Potter

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin/Reader

Summary: After years at Hogwarts, your life would really begin and nothing could be better than to start this new phase with your official birthday party, but the next day does not turn out quite as expected.

Warnings: For those who haven't read the first part yet, Tom Riddle is not Voldemort in this fic. The first wizard war was against another wizard but its consequences are still valid! Just pure fluff and an implied bit of smut.

Word Count: 3,0k

A/N: This is obviously the part two of You and Me, but it’s not necessarily related, so you can just read this one as a one shot but the first part gives you a lot of context for this, ok? ok then. (Happy really early Birthday Katie! I'd like to post this on your bday but I was too anxious for this. Hope you like it!)

Part I

04/27/1997

"You're really not well, how can a person be in this state when their birthday is so close? I've tried to understand and still can't", the brunette's bored voice made itself present in the room for the 4th time in the day and as I prepared my answer, she held up her hand and delivered her own hypothesis first. "You can't be sad that we're finishing seventh year, I swear for Merlin's sake, if that's the case, I'll...", the words slipped slowly from her mouth, as did the calmness remaining in her.  

"Even though anything you have to say sounds like a lot of fun, it's not the case. I really want to start my own life, have my own job and all that. I'm just thinking a lot lately, too many things have happened, we've all changed so much", I didn't bother to look at her, still focused on the ceiling painted like a blue summer sky and she didn't mind asking permission to lie next to me on the bed. 

"We had to grow up eventually, although some took too long, in fact, I can point out for sure that half the boys still act like kids", we both laughed until our bellies ached.

"Well, good for us then because Draco and Blaise are not on that list and don't even dare look at me like that, you know he's changed a lot", I heard her amused giggles and already imagined what was coming. 

"I wasn't even going to say anything this time, it's really impressive how you just stick up for him, I hope it's the same with me", I frowned and looked at her as if she was out of her mind, and there were chances she really was. "Since when do you need protection from someone?". 

"I never said I needed it, but it's nice to know I have it", she shrugged without looking me in the eye and I decided it would be better to change the subject, because nothing good ever comes out of a Pansy, who is unseasy in any sense. 

"So, about your...," she started. "Pansy, what do you…”, I said at the same time, but I just smiled and waited in silence for what she had to say. 

"I was going to ask about your parents, you're going to have to live with them in a month, so how are you feeling about that?", she just glanced at me. 

"That's been going through my mind, I have no idea what it's going to be like but it's going to be better than anything that's happened in the past, that's enough for now", I sighed. 

"You know you can come to my house, right? You can hide there", I agreed with a smile and we continued in a comfortable silence. 

04/29/1997

7:30 A.M.

 On the morning of my birthday, I woke up in the best possible way. The warmth emanating from Draco's body and the thick blanket kept me unfazed by the freezing wind coming in through the window. I didn't want to move and I didn't need to. 

I sighed satisfied with the position I was in, curled up under the blanket hugging the blond's bare torso, with no responsibility or obligation other than to enjoy my day. 

"Morning, love", his arms pressed me tighter against him, I could feel his calm breathing and somehow, I felt calmer too.

I left a few kisses on his bare skin and the goosebumps they caused on him made me break out into a little smile. "Good morning, love", I whispered leaning back against him.  

"Come here, let me give you a proper happy birthday", he gave my hair a quick pat and lifted my chin to look at him. 

 As soon as I crawled closer to him, his arms entwined around my waist and pulled me even closer. 

"Happy birthday my love", he left several little kisses on my face and neck before moving to my lips, but our moment was interrupted by a noise on the window.

 A gray owl incessantly beat its beak on the window pane, we looked at each other, neither of us wanted to get up, but it would be too cruel to leave the poor thing waiting there. 

"It's my birthday, I have the right to ask you to go", I gave a brief kiss on his lips before letting him go to the war field. 

 I stayed warm while he opened the window further so that the owl could get through, as well as the icy wind. 

He rushed back to my side in time to see me tear the seal off the letter I received. 

"It's from my parents, they are really working hard this year. I have to admit that", I told him as I scanned the paper. 

"At least they realized what a great daughter they have, she's a little mean but still great", I was too busy reading the letter to notice his cunning and more icy than usual hands pass around me.  

 I jumped out of bed as I felt the shock of our skin contact and he had the audacity to laugh, I had to control myself too much not to grab my wand. 

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, you are dead now", I climbed into bed with my pillow, ready to fight. 

20:00 P.M.

 A few hours later, I was getting ready for the party in the Slytherin common room, everyone was invited since after this stressful year, a party would be nice and I couldn't physically kick anyone out. 

I was barely concentrating in my makeup, Nala was running back and forth between my feet wanting attention and I couldn't give it to her or for the next few hours, no matter how much it broke my heart. 

"For Merlin's sake... Nala! Sit!", it saddened me to see that she obeyed but still wanted to come running to me, that deserved a good reward.

 I fed her one of her favorite cookies and petted her shiny fur before going back in front of the mirror. I checked several times to make sure I was ready. 

"See you later my love, mma will be back soon", I waved to her and went downstairs before I gave in. 

 There were already a lot of people when I arrived, the new song by The Weird Sisters was so loud that Pansy didn't hear me, even though I called out 2 times as she passed by on the other side of the room. 

As I made my way through, many friends stopped to congratulate me and also to chat a bit, by the time I realized what I was supposed to do, more than 10 minutes had passed. 

"Have you guys seen Pansy? I was looking for her", I said before turning my own glass of buttered beer over and leaving it in Tom's hand. "See you guys later", my eyes were glued on the blond guy standing in the corner and in less than a second, I was walking towards him. 

"What the hell am I supposed to do with that?!", I heard his indignant voice but ignored it along with all the other people, who tried to talk to me on my way to him. 

"You know, the delay is only elegant because it doesn't last more than 5 minutes", he was smiling even though he hated tardiness. 

"Maybe for most people, a queen is never late love, the others were too early. Especially when it's her birthday", I stopped in front of him. "You haven't given me my present yet, I'm waiting", I pointed to my own lips.  

 He chuckled and looked at me for a few seconds before he said  something, even with the lights flashing I could still see the twinkle in his eyes, which still reflected mine equally. 

"Are you asking this as a gift around too?", his smile widened as did mine, he took a step closer. 

"Does that mean you're not going to give it to me? I had high expectations for this one in particular", something in his gaze changed, I could clearly tell but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. 

"That particular one can wait, right now, I have my main gift", he took his hands off his back and in them was a green velvet median box with silver details. 

 I was almost breathless just admiring the package once it was in my hands. To top it off, a green silk bow and I had the impression that he had made it himself. 

When I opened it, my jaw dropped. A silver necklace with an emerald heart carefully displayed in the box. 

"Draco, you really didn't have to give me something expensive", he didn't answer me, instead took the necklace and helped me put it on. 

"It seemed like an appropriate gift, now that we will no longer be living by Slytherin rules, it’s a nice way to say goodbye", I didn't think twice before I kissed him. 

"I love you, I'll never get tired of saying that", I whispered between kisses. "You won't forget that, right?", I sighed as he brushed his lips across the skin of my neck. 

"I have no reason to forget love, I...", we were interrupted by a forced cough behind me. 

"Why don't you two just go into a room? No one has to see this scene", Blaise's unmistakable voice sounded and I felt my boyfriend giggle, not moving out of position. 

"You can go after your girlfriend instead of getting in our way, wouldn't that be a brilliant idea?", I didn't see what happened, but a nice answer wouldn't be."So where were we honey?", he raised his eyes to meet mine. 

"We better save that for the end of the party love, wasn't that your idea?", I pulled away from him and took his hand. "You have a whole party to enjoy." 

"I already regret that decision, thanks for reminding me", he mumbled that and a few other things I couldn't hear. 

07/01/1997

7:00 A.M.

"I still can't believe this is our last breakfast at Hogwarts", Astoria commented amidst the silence that had formed at our table. 

"I still can't believe it's really over, it seems like any minute now I'm going to wake up and be back in third year", Pansy added. 

"Well, I hope you'll make better decisions if you go back there tonight. No one forgot the hair Pan", my remark made everyone laugh for the first time in the day, a bit of pride grew inside me. 

"Just because Hogwarts is over doesn't mean we're going to split up. None of you have any right to be this down today", Theo said and I was forced to smile as was everyone else. 

"I was glad to be rid of you, at no point I was sad," Blaise muttered but we could all hear him and we all laughed once again. 

8:00 A.M. 

"What are you thinking?" he was with his eyes closed leaning against the train window, but I knew he wasn't asleep. 

"How familiar everything here is, the worn leather of the seat, the smell of candy in the hallway and of trees coming in through the window. Other things will be familiar 7 years from now, it's just weird to think about it," he continued in the same position but held out his hand to me. 

"That's true but I feel better knowing that we will continue to be each other's constant," I intertwined our fingers and we continued like that until we arrived.  

11:00 A.M. 

"It's time for the gifts, we prefer to give you personally. I believe you will like it", my mother said as soon as we sat down on the couch in our living room. 

 I smiled not knowing how to respond, since I usually got the same thing every year, money or more paint, and I was pretty sure they didn't choose in person. 

"Go ahead, open it. We decided to give two separate presents this year, the pink wrapping is mine and the purple one is your father's", the two boxes were right next to me on the couch, so why was I hesitating so much to pick them up? 

 A lot was going on in my head, they have changed a lot in the last year but why? I could be dreaming of the ideal day, but no dream was as vivid as this one.

I took a deep breath and opened the pink first, I expected to find anything but my stuffed bunny, he was washed and clean, different from how I remembered, but still the same. 

"I thought I lost or tore it a long time ago", I managed to say as I hugged him like one who finds an old friend, but he was beyond that. 

"He was really in a rough state, but I was able to fix him. It was in one of the boxes in the basement, remember how you got it?", I agreed again, a wave of memories washed over me. 

My parents had just arrived home from a business trip, it was the first time I had been alone at home without them. 

"Mommy, Daddy!", I ran down the stairs as fast as my little legs would allow and threw myself into my father's arms, not caring about his wet coat, which soon became even wetter. "You promi-promised that you would be back soon”. 

"Oh my love, something unexpected has happened. We were never going to leave you alone for so long," her hands wiped away my tears and took me in her lap. "So, for you never have to be alone again, we brought a little friend, he will always keep you company when we have to leave." 

That wasn't enough to calm me down but it made me curious enough to stop crying, I didn't have any friends before that. 

 I hurried to open the other package but there was only an empty picture frame with no photo inside. 

Before I could open my mouth to ask for an explanation, shapes began to appear from the black background. 

I recognized the picture, me still a baby in my mother's arms and my father behind her, hugging us both but as soon as I blinked, it was gone. 

Another picture formed in its place, I was older, about two or three years old, this one I had never seen. I was on my mother's lap holding a drawing that I had made and possibly looked terrible. 

More pictures appeared and disappeared but I didn't wait to see them all at that moment. 

"I loved these gifts...thank you Mom and Dad," I made a great effort to hold back the tears as I hugged them both. "They are the best presents I have ever gotten." 

23:00 P.M. 

"What are you two doing out there at this time of night?! Draco, have you been drinking now?", Narcisa gave us another stern look before opening the door and shoving us inside. 

 We walked in almost tripping over the living room rug, laughing at each other, to the point where tears formed in our eyes.  

"Shhhhhh, my dad must be working... uhhhhhh, he's not going to like this, u-um," his hand covered my mouth. 

I pushed his hand away from my face. “Me?Shut up? You're practically screaming you idiot!".

 "You two, I don't want another peep out of you. Come up quietly. Your father doesn't like to be interrupted," she whispered, but it was enough for us to agree without hesitation. 

"Yes, Captain, I mean, ma'am," he pulled me up the stairs before her patience ran out. 

07/02/1997

14:00 P.M. 

"What do you mean, you don't remember what happened?", the blond was clearly trying hard not to laugh and I sighed, still under the blanket. 

"I don't remember Draco, did your mother really not hate me? I can't believe we came here...", even though no one was watching me, I started to blush, or was it just the fever? There's no way to be sure now. 

"That could never happen, she made sure to request your favorite tea. Now get out of there before it gets cold", he tried to pull on my blanket but I used all the rest of my strength not to let him.  

"Noooo, out there that's too cold. Come here, it's too cold for you too", I took one of my hands from the comfortable warmth to pull him to me. "You didn't have to get up so early to get this", I whispered but soon after started coughing. 

"There must be a potion to help you, I'll just get it and then...", he was ready to get up from the bed but I didn't let go of his arm. 

"I just want you, please stay here? The elf will bring it anyway", before he could protest, I covered him with the blanket. "You're not well either, let's just lay down for now". 

 He opened his mouth to deny it again but all that came out was a sneeze, after this he just gave up and lied down too. We were both screwed but at least we were together, right? I tried to think positive.

[ @x-dratie-x @fa-me]

Harry Potter Masterlist

[demomonic-murmurs]

[K]inktober Day 2: Threesome [Kiyoko&Yachi]

Content: NSFW, Sexual Content, Threesome, Reader is Kiyoko's girlfriend and they teach Yachi about the beauty of gals being pals

Warning: Sexual Content, F/F/F

"We wouldn't have invited you here if we didn't want you to be part of this Hitoka. Please stop asking if we are certain."

Yachi shut her mouth and nodded. She was blushing, her entire face, ears and neck coated in a lovely red hue. The small girl felt as if she was about to pass out.

"If you feel uncomfortable with anything, tell us okay?", [Name] said while winking at her, though her usual easygoing demeanor had a more serious underlying tone to it. She was serious.

"Got it", Yachi stuttered out, "So uh... how do you usually... start?" She felt awkward. Being in the presence of the cool beauty Shimizu Kiyoko was embarrassing enough but the teasing flirt [Name] [Last Name] as well?

[Name] laughed.

"We usually start by kissing. The slobby sensual wet kind of kiss. Have you ever kissed anyone Hitoka?"

Hitoka felt another wave of heat spread over her face. She shyly shook her head.

"No... not really."

"Would you like to see a real kiss then? Come closer and watch."

Yachi did just that, shuffling closely to the spot where Kiyoko and [Name] were kneeling on [Name]'s bed, which was a lot bigger than Yachi ever thought a bed could be, fitting all three of them.

[Name] smirked and leaned forward, never breaking eye contact with Yachi as she pressed her lips to Kiyoko's, softly at first before getting rougher.

"Come Shimizu open your mouth, give cute lil Hitoka a show will you", [Name] breathed out against her girlfriend's lips.

Kiyoko huffed in annoyance but complied, opening her mouth. [Name] moved back and placed her thumb on her bottom lip before tracing the outline. The black haired beauty understood, her tongue darting out and giving the thumb a lick. Satisfied, [Name] moved back in, her hand trailing down to grab Kiyoko's face and holding it in place, her mouth still hanging ajar.

The wet sound of tongues moving against each other made Yachi whimper. She had never seen such a blatan display of sexual desire, much less expected, especially not from her upperclassman and her girlfriend.

Kiyoko let out a moan- even her moan was that of a Goddess, Yachi noted- and her thighs rubbed against each other. [Name] began kissing even harder than before, her passion completely dominating her girlfriend and nudged her leg in between hers, [Name]'s knee rubbing against her pussy which was obscured by nothing but her panties and skirt, which was riding up even further.

[Name]'s free hand sneaked under Kiyoko's shirt and she began palming her girlfriends chest over her bra.

Yachi let out a noise. This was unbearably hot. Was this what girls love meant? Seeing her upperclassman at the complete mercy of a pretty woman... did something to her.

[Name] pulled back, a pleased glint in her eyes as she watched her girlfriend gasp for air, a string of sailva connecting their lips.

"I think we are all way too overdressed for this", [Name] said as she began to strip, beckoning Yachi and Kiyoko to do the same.

"Keep your bra and panties on. I ought to show Yachi how to unpack the treat", Kiyoko's girlfriend murmured which earned her an eye roll from the girl herself.

Yachi began to shakingly unbutton her blouse. Was she really about to get naked with them?

She looked down on herself, disappointed at the fact that she was wearing embarrassingly innocent looking polka dot panties with a matching bra, but found comfort in [Name]'s mismatched pair of a sports bra and superman panties.

Kiyoko however looked like an Amazon pulled straight out of a comic book. She wore a pair of matching lace lingerie which complemented her curves. Her body was lean and slightly muscular from all the sport she did. In the center of her panties, a dark spot was forming.

[Name] whistled.

"You even got your lingerie out for this special occasion babe? All dolled up for cute little Hitoka? I would be hurt if you wouldn't be just so smoking hot."

That compliment earned her a little slap from Kiyoko on the back of her head, before directing her attention at Yachi.

"Do you want to kiss me Hitoka?"

Her voice was soft and quiet, an adorable blush forming on her cheeks. Yachi choked on air but nodded enthusiastically.

Kiyoko leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on Yachi's lips. One of her hands moved to her nipples and began circling around it while the other moved south, stopping just slightly above Yachi's golden pubic hair. Her pussy twitched in anticipation.

Kiyoko kissed her again, harder this time, mimicking the movements [Name] used earlier, her index finger brushing slightly over her clit, which made Yachi's jump in surprise, a jolt of pleasure running through her body. The hand paused momentarily as the other began to squeeze nipple. Yachi moaned into the kiss and arched her back, giving Kiyoko the advantage to deepen it.

Kiyoko rested her thumb on top of Yachi's sensitive clit while her index finger began moving along her hole, coating her pointer in Yachi's glistening juice. She pressed one finger into her softly, testing the waters and gave her a few moments to adjust. Yachi let out another whimper.

No one had ever touched her this way, she hadn't even touched herself this way. Whenever she had masturbated, she was too scared of the actual sticking part, so most of the time she had settled to humping against a pillow until she came.

Kiyoko picked up the pace, a second finger joining her first plunging in and out of Yachi's soft core. She broke the kiss and trailed kisses down her neck before taking her unoccupied nipple into her mouth, sucking on it. Yachi let out a loud moan, subconsciously pressing her body closer to Kiyoko, grinding her pussy against her hands.

Kiyoko twitched and moaned, driving her fingers even deeper into Yachi, the vibrations around her nipple almost enough to drive her over the edge.

[Name] had settled behind Kiyoko. Her bra was only hastily pulled down, granting [Name] access to her breasts. She was fondling them roughly, pinching her nipples between her thumb and index finger, while trailing down violent love bites down her neck, sucking on the skin to leave purple bruises.

"You two are so mean", [Name] pouted, pausing to lick over a particularly ruthless mark, "Especially you Shimu... I am your girlfriend you know yet...", one of her hands moved towards her panties, "You're so close to unraveling just from pleasing your cute little junior."

Kiyoko moaned in response as [Name] continued her ministrations, which was enough to send Yachi over the edge. With a loud yelp, she came, her nectar drenching Kiyoko's hand. The blonde fell back, exhausted, chest heaving as she attempted to catch her breath.

"How adorable. And fitting. You two came together. And here I am not even close. So incredibly mean you are Kiyoko. Come on, give me a taste of her", [Name] laughed and through teary eyes, Yachi could see her pulling Kiyoko closer to her and sucking on the digits that had been inside of her not too long ago.

Yachi felt her pussy twitch weakly from arousal. Kiyoko may had had her dominated, but in the hands of [Name] she remained beaten, looking weak at best.

[Name], still seated behind Kiyoko leaned her head over her shoulder, dropping her gaze down.

"God you're so hot Kiyoko these are completly drenched. You came so much even the mattress underneath has a dark spot."

Kiyoko let out a squeak when [Name] let her hands trail along her waist and lifted her ever so slightly, spreading her legs, making the mess apparent.

"I really don't get your obsession", Kiyoko huffed, obviously embarassed.

"Hitoka does though", [Name] replied, smirking, "besides you are in no position to protest. I've really been lenient on you haven't I? It seems like it since you've forgotten your manners."

[Name] made eye contact with Yachi who had recovered from her orgasm (her first, she thought, with another person that is) and gave her a sweet smile, which was unfitting given the circumstances.

"Hitoka sweetie do you mind pulling off her panties for me?"

Yachi shook her head dumbly, crawling forward on shaking knees between Kiyokos legs and slowly began pulling her panties off.

"Look at it. It's sticking to your pussy babe. That's how much you came", [Name] cooed as Kiyoko let out a whimper.

With trembling fingers, Yachi handed [Name] the panties who inspected them in satisfaction.

"Truly beyond drenched. You smell as good as always baby. Come on taste yourself, you will accept at least some punishment for neglecting your girlfriend right?"

Kiyoko nodded hastily against [Name]'s shoulder and Yachi could see her pussy twitch. Was she ... getting turned on by this again?

"Then you know what I want. Open your pretty mouth will you?"

Kiyoko complied, opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out. [Name] smirked and, ensuring that she could get a good taste of herself, stuffed the panties into her mouth. The black haired girl choked before moaning, her eyes rolling back in her head.

"I am not done with you yet. Lay back down and spread your legs, wanna eat you out and make you squirt."

Kiyoko nodded, leaning her back against the soft mattress and spreading her legs as much as she could, leaving her pussy bare.

[Name] kneeled in front of her, her eyes glistening like a predator that just caught its prey.

"She is cute when she gets like this, isn't she Hitoka? Our usually so composed and picture perfect manager coming into her panties untouched and then liking to have her pretty mouth stuffed with them? She likes the taste of herself but never admits to it", [Name] laughed, more to herself than anyone else, "Can you imagine that there is nothing she loves more than cumming again and again while being marked up? Maybe I should buy you a collar and make you my dog in heat officially, don't you think?"

Kiyoko nodded her head and tried to agree, though her words only came out as a muffled jumble. Tears were beginning to form at the corner of her eyes.

[Name] smirked and leaned over to Yachi.

"What do you think your precious little volleyball club would say to this? Poor little boys wouldn't be able to handle it now would they?"

Yachi shook her head. They wouldn't. She was barely able to. Seeing the usually reserved Kiyoko being reduced to a fumbling mess was a fascinating process to watch. She was convinced [Name] was some kind of sorceress.

"Hitoka", she spoke, louder than before, "do you think, if given some pointers, you could try to eat me out as well? Observe me with Kiyoko first and if you feel up for the task... I'd gladly spread my legs for you."

"Yes! I mean I can try! I will try", Yachi said, nodding eagerly. Was this the power of the embrace of two woman? Making her brain all fuzzy like that?

[Name] smiled and pressed an affectionate kiss towards her cheek. She sank down between Kiyoko's legs, pressing kisses against her thigh and occasionally biting down before stopping in front of her pussy. She grinned devilishly and blew air against it, relishing in how Kiyoko squirmed at the contact and throbbed. [Name] surged forward and buried her tongue between her folds, her finger searching for the sensitive bundle of nerves and began to pleasure her. She flicked her fingers against Kiyoko's clit which earned her a high pitched scream, only muffled by her lace panties.

Yachi could only watch in amazement, one of her fingers wandering between her own legs. Seeing Kiyoko writhe in pleasure like that only caused her arousal to spike up again, the familiar heat from earlier returning. This continued for a few moments and the room was quiet except for the wet noises and muffled moans and groans.

Without a warning, Kiyoko pressed her back against the mattress again and wrapped her legs around [Name]'s head, thighs squishing it and pulling her as close as possible, burying her nose in her short, well kept, black pubic hair. She trashed before her legs slacked and twitched as she came down from another high.

[Name] leaned back, dissatisfied, and rested her hands on her knees.

"That simply won't do. Though you now have a basic understanding of it, don't you Hitoka?", she asked while casually lapping Kiyoko's juice from her face.

"Another round it is then. Try it out yourself now, you can finger yourself Hitoka."

"Sure but... didn't she just... cum?", Yachi said, getting quieter as the sentences progressed.

[Name] laughed. "Oh you're precious. Good girls get a break. Shimizu hasn't been a good girl. I asked her to squirt for me and I will keep making her cum until she does. Its only reasonable, isn't it? Now come on, get that cute head between my legs will ya? Maybe if Shimizu takes too long and passes out from pleasure I will eat you out too", [Name] spoke, her head already between Kiyoko's legs again.

Ah, Yachi thought, so this was the beauty of girls love.

[redwritinghood]

Omg first of all you wrote enemy of my enemy??? I loved it so much omggg!!! Second of all, if you're still taking prompts i would love an au where marlas didnt happen and damen is officially courting laurent so they always need chaperons but they always escape them to be alone and aleron and theomedes are NOT happy about this

Technically still writing The Enemy of My Enemy but thank you, always enjoy being appreciated :)

Writing this with that “shy bookish boy” in mind where Laurent has wonderfully not had to face the book tragedies.

Damen saw the large willow tree that matched the description he’d been given and swung off the horse to land in knee high grass next to the river bank. He dropped the reins, allowing the horse to freely graze. Inside the natural tent of the willow branches was a private space. The shade was a relief, but the summer day was still too hot to be fully clothed. Fumbling with the excessive lacing, Damen loosened the sweat dampened shirt. The servant assigned to help him dress had been scandalized when Damen rejected the undershirt. One was already excessive. 

Somewhat freed of the oppressive garment he proceeded to remove his boots and collapsed into the grass. It was a relief to be outside of the palace, away from the over-attentive servants and curious nobility. Arles felt stuffy and confining, unlike Ios that was open to the outside with balconies and outdoor walkways. This excursion to the outdoors was needed almost more than Damen had realized. 

A patch of wildflowers mingled in the grass next to him and he collected a handful to begin weaving the stems together. This part of the river was more sedated than the frothing white rapids where Damen had accidentally rescued the crown prince of Vere. 

It had been several years but was still something Damen frequently thought on, back when the war between Vere and Akielos had seemed inevitable. While on a scouting trip, a fierce storm had arisen, separating Damen and Nikandros from the rest of their party and driven them into the forest for shelter. Somewhere during the midst of the violent tempest they unknowingly crossed the border into Vere. In the aftermath, they emerged on the Northern side, stumbling upon a raider camp next to the river. Realizing they had followed the river in the wrong direction the intent was to turn around without altercation but Damen had seen the raider’s blond prisoner.

Nikandros had protested vehemently but ultimately followed Damen on his rescue mission. They had the advantage of surprise but were greatly outnumbered. The fight could have gone badly, but once the blond prisoner was released and obtained a weapon the fight quickly shifted in their favor. 

Once the battle was won, the prisoner revealed himself as Prince Auguste. Similarly, Damen candidly introduced himself despite Nikandros’ elbow in his ribs.

There was a moment of uncertainty as they faced each other with swords still drawn. Then, surprisingly, Auguste laughed and sheathed the weapon. The two sanguine princes recognized each other as kindred spirits and agreed that this was an opportunity. Auguste wanted to introduce Damen to King Aleron, perhaps forging the beginnings of an alliance or to at least assuage the impending war. The royal family was in Marlas and only half a day's ride away. Nikandros continued to speak his objections but followed Damen, preferring to die with him than because of him.

Once hearing of the rescue and how close he had been to losing Auguste, King Aleron accepted Damen almost too graciously. Eager to offer him a reward for saving his eldest son. 

“I would offer you Auguste’s hand if he weren’t already betrothed and needed to continue the line,” Aleron said.

“I don’t need a reward,” Damen said uncomfortably. It wasn’t his reason for meeting the king and Auguste was perhaps equally surprised how well the enemy Akielon prince had been received. 

“I have a younger son,” Aleron said.

“Father.” Auguste objected, obviously disagreeing with this idea. 

Damen’s side was going to be bruised from Nikandros’ elbow. This time he agreed with him and was looking for a polite way to escape.

“That’s really alright—” Damen began.

“Someone fetch Laurent,” Aleron ordered, and servants hurried to do his bidding.

“You’re bruising me,” Damen whispered. That insistent elbow still poking his side.

“We need to leave before you’re engaged,” Nikandros hissed.

“I’m trying,” Damen said under his breath. It would be impossible to explain the arrangement to his father.

“Ah, here he is,” Aleron gestured when the doors to the court were opened.

Damen turned as he heard Nikandros say, “Oh no.”

Hoofbeats pulled Damen from the recollection. He sat up only to be knocked back down by a body colliding with his. 

“You know,” Damen said when he caught his breath, “your brother thinks I’m the one corrupting his shy little brother.” 

“Auguste still sees me as a child.” Laurent unwrapped his arms from Damen’s neck and pulled back to see his face. “Hi,” he blushed.

“Hi,” Damen smiled.

“May I?” he asked. Damen looked into the blue eyes, so unbearably close, and nodded.

This was his third visit to Arles to see his fiance. Laurent had been barely thirteen when he was suddenly and unwillfully promised to the former enemy. Understandably, he had been unhappy. When Damen returned to Ios, he wrote several letters hoping to learn more about him. It was several months before he received a short response answering questions in a brusque dismissive fashion that impressively relayed little information. Damen suspected Auguste or someone else had forced Laurent to respond. Despite the discouraging reply Damen persisted. 

During the first visit, Laurent had been predictably detached, and Damen spent most of his time with Auguste. But because Laurent was Auguste’s second shadow, they consequently spent time together. He typically opted out of any sport or game that Damen and Auguste would partake in but always stood as witness. Damen hadn’t expected much interaction from Laurent, he was still young, and unfairly betrothed. However, by the end of that stay Laurent was noticeably less callous.  

The next visit Laurent had altered from the suspicious aloofness to a timid interest now trailing Damen, even without Auguste’s presence. With a hesitant eagerness Laurent shared his favorite scrolls, his thoughts on the recent philosophy debates, and introduced Damen to his horse. The shy sincerity was incredibly endearing and Damen suspected there weren’t many people Laurent was comfortable sharing his thoughts with. He loved that Laurent was slowly opening up to him and Damen hoped he did nothing to dissuade him. 

Written communication increased significantly. The letters used to be a burden, something Damen forced himself to do. When Laurent began to open up, the conversation surpassed interesting to exciting. Damen was almost intimidated by the intelligent penpal and his fascinating perspective.

This was the first visit since Laurent had turned eighteen. As if to demonstrate this Laurent had physically matured and it was impossible not to notice. The guard detail had been instructed to be in constant attendance. The two princes were not allowed to be alone together. Because of this, they had not even kissed. The building anticipation had become nearly suffocating. To Damen, even holding hands had become an illicit act. Laurent sliding closer on benches or couches until their knees touched had nearly driven Damen mad. And it was Laurent initiating most contact, exasperating his guards when they had to find a way to respectfully peel the prince off the Akielon visitor. 

This was the moment, and Damen felt it with an ache through his entire body. He slipped a hand into the blond hair, holding the beautiful face. Shyly, Laurent leaned in, eyelashes dipping. Damen pressed forward, carefully, restraining himself against rushing Laurent. Lips met tentatively, just a ticklish brush. It wasn’t enough, but Laurent had drifted back, eyes still closed. 

“Laurent,” Damen whispered, and felt Laurent’s breath against his cheek. He resisted the desire to pull him in and take his mouth. The quiet hesitation evoked one of Damen’s fears that after all of this Laurent wouldn’t find him appealing. Being forced to sit still and endure the silence was torture.

Having Vere’s beloved younger prince in a compromising position above him made Damen equally excited and nervous. The peace between their countries was tentative and they were constantly observed so there was no slight or breach in protocol. What had been an expression of gratitude had turned political and restrictive. Theomedes saw the engagement as another war to be won and constantly warned Damen against any affection. This attitude had bled over into Vere and Aleron had become of a similar mindset. It may have even been his initial mindset when proposing the engagement. Having his offspring rulers of two seperate countries was a good tactical maneuver. Meanwhile, Theomedes searched for candidates that would produce an heir. This hung over Damen’s head, he wanted to tell Laurent, but it was a private matter, not something he wanted to share with the Veretian and Akielon guards. They could be bigger gossips than kitchen maids. 

That thought was silenced when Laurent’s eyes opened, the blue so bright it was almost startling, then miraculously, he smiled and Damen stopped breathing.

“Again?” Laurent asked. It took Damen a moment to realize he was asking for another kiss. 

“You want to?”

“Yes,” he breathed. 

Damen’s heart sang as he grinned, “You don’t have to ask with me.”

In response, Laurent’s arms slid around his neck and this kiss was the one Damen had needed. Deeper and longer. Laurent opened his mouth, hands sliding into Damen’s hair. He moved closer bodies now pressed together. Damen held him, arms around his waist.

“Was that— alright?” Laurent asked once they had separated and he had caught his breath.

Damen held Laurent’s face between his hands, “Yes, it was more than alright.” He kissed Laurent’s forehead, the timid innocence was so endearing he thought his heart would burst.

“You were also— adequate,” Laurent said with a blush.

Damen laughed, “Thanks.”

“I brought my favorite poetry scroll,” Laurent said scrambling up to retrieve the scroll from his horse’s saddlebag. 

While Laurent read lounging in the grass, Damen continued the flower crown and when finished placed it on top of the golden head. The blue and white flowers remained in his hair through another interlude of kissing.

After some persuasion Damen recited Akielon poems and epics in his native tongue. Laurent settled in next to him, head on his shoulder to look up at the sun filtering through the twisted branching. The flowers still in his hair.

“Are they all about war and conquering?” he asked.

“The most popular ones are. Warriors are highly regarded.”

“Were you ever disappointed that our engagement averted a war?”

“No,” Damen said. “I would be nervous to fight Auguste in serious combat, he’s very skilled.”

“I initially comforted myself by realizing that the engagement would essentially end all wars between our countries. And with Auguste as king of Vere I was certain I could manipulate you and mediate some hundred year treaty.”

The confession made Damen laugh, “You wouldn’t have to manipulate me. Whatever archaic dispute that led our elders to war no longer applies to us.”

“Is that a promise?” Laurent asked sitting up to look down at Damen.

“A promise that while we’re alive there will be no war between our countries?” Damen asked.

“Yes.”

“I promise,” he said and was surprised when Laurent dropped down to cup his face and fervently kiss him.

In the thick heat of the summer afternoon, Laurent was persuaded to remove his boots and step into the river.  Damen knew removing his clothes to bathe in the river would be an affliction on the tender Veretian sensibilities. As if to prove this Laurent had turned red when Damen removed his outer garment wearing only pants. Damen frequently caught him staring and would watch him blush and turn away. Not much coaxing was needed to bring Laurent into an embrace and kiss him while they stood waist-deep in the river. The cool pale hands traveled up his biceps to his shoulders almost reverently. 

“Laurent.” Auguste’s voice was a baritone traveling forcefully over the water. They had been discovered. 

Damen pulled on his boots as the brother’s argued. So far Damen had witnessed Laurent win every argument against anyone who dared oppose him, with the exception of Auguste who seemed to be more of a blind spot than a master debater. The two sets of guards were not far behind and with the older brother’s instruction the younger was whisked away.

Damen took his time as he dreaded redressing in the complicated jacket and lacing it by himself.

“I trust our agreement still stands.” Auguste sat next to Damen in the grass while he tried to reassemble his shirt.

“I haven’t fucked your brother.” The agreement to not sleep with Laurent until their wedding night had been easy to make when Laurent was thirteen.

“I don’t blame you for your efforts, I bedded my wife before our consummation. But he’s my little brother, I still feel— protective.”

This confession only further irritated Damen and he briefly imagined shattering the innocent image Auguste held of Laurent. It wasn’t Damen initiating physical contact and arranging secret dates.

“I won’t start anything,” Damen said. It was a little dishonest considering Auguste was blind to his younger brother’s burgeoning sexuality. 

“I appreciate it,” Auguste said, then reached over to help Damen with his laces.

Dinner that evening was uncomfortable. Laurent, with the flower crown still in his hair, was unremorseful and the two brothers had not reconciled. It was clear they had never been at odds before and the court was unsure how to react to the feuding siblings. 

After retiring to his chambers, Damen was settling in for the night when a noise outside his balcony disturbed him. Laurent dropped down out of the night but the more surprising part was how he was dressed.

“Where did— where did you get that?”

“I had it made. Is it accurate?” Laurent did a little twirl to show off the chiton and the fabric lifted revealing even more thigh.

Damen had to sit down, he had never seen more than hands and feet. “Not bad. Did you have the sandals made also?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Damen asked, he was having trouble breathing. Not only was the flower crown still present on the blond head but the chiton was especially short and the knee-high sandals drew special attention to the bare thighs.

“Isn’t this the fashion in Ios?” Laurent asked. “Am I expected to dress strictly as a Veretian once we’re married?” 

“You’re getting a little ahead of yourself,” Damen said, “We still have over a year.”

“I like to be prepared,” Laurent said and adjusted the white cloth. Damen looked away, there had been the slight glimpse of pink nipple. If he was going to uphold his promise to Auguste he would have to make Laurent leave. But he really didn’t want that, any of their time together was precious.

“What’s wrong?” Laurent asked.

“You can’t be here.” Damen had averted his eyes. “We aren’t supposed to be alone together.”

“That didn’t bother you this afternoon,” Laurent said and stood still observing Damen. “Did I do something?”

“No,” Damen said and reached out. Laurent accepted the offered hand and allowed Damen to pull him down into the seat next to him. The damn chiton was even shorter sitting down. “If we weren’t already engaged I would be on my knee in front of your father asking for your hand.” 

Laurent’s blue eyes hadn’t softened, “Then what is it?”

Damen knew there shouldn’t be any secrets between them, “I made a promise to your brother that I would wait until our wedding night for— you know.”

With an exhale Laurent slid onto Damen’s lap. “My brother has no say or control over my body. If I decide I’m ready now isn’t that my decision?”

“Of course,” Damen nearly choked. His hands came up automatically to hold Laurent’s waist. “Unless you find me unappealing,” Laurent said. 

“No one finds you unappealing,” Damen said and helplessly tugged Laurent closer. 

“I realize now that your hesitation was trying to respect your promise. It’s an honorable trait.” Laurent smoothed a hand into Damen’s hair, the cool palm cupping his face. “However, any further decisions regarding my body are to be made by me.”

“Understood,” Damen grinned. 

“My current decision is to allow you to take me to bed.” The coy smile almost physically hurt.

“Laurent,” Damen groaned. His head dropped onto the bare shoulder. “I want you so badly.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t want to risk offense. We’re not even supposed to be alone together. I can’t lose you.” Damen spoke against Laurent’s shoulder noticing how goosebumps blossomed across the pale skin.

Laurent was quiet briefly, stroking Damen’s hair, “The engagement was not my decision, but as the younger prince I expected it was my fate to be traded for some political or financial gain. The bids even began before I turned twelve.” Laurent watched Damen’s hair slip between his fingers. “I thought I was prepared, but I didn’t expect to be— happy. I don’t intend to lose you either.” 

Damen’s heart swelled as he lifted his head to look into the beautiful face. “May I?” he asked, smiling.

“You don’t need to ask.” Laurent also smiled as he leaned in. It was still new, each kiss better than the last. This time Laurent took more control, his head above Damen’s and with both hands smoothing through his hair. Boldly Damen traced a hand up the bare thigh feeling Laurent’s reaction with his body so close. 

“What is this?” Damen asked when his fingers ran into a slice of unknown fabric.

“I didn’t know what was typically worn beneath these so I fashioned something myself.” Laurent lifted the skirt revealing cloth crudely made to fit between his legs and around his hips. “Why are you laughing?”

Any other time Laurent’s unconscious reveal of so much flesh would have almost stopped Damen’s heart but the strange little modest piece of clothing was so ridiculous and unexpected

“There’s nothing worn beneath them?” Laurent asked, more fascinated than scandalized. 

“No,” Damen said, he had barely managed to explain through the laughter.

“It must be very warm there.”

“Compared to here, yes. I can’t wait to show you,” Damen said using his mouth to find the pulse point in Laurent’s neck. The soft sigh reminded him where they had been going before Laurent’s reveal. The kissing continued softly, Laurent tenderly exploring the act with lips and tongue. He pressed closer, their bodies together. Damen detoured to the slender neck, recalling that initial reaction with that soft sound. He wasn’t disappointed, the reaction was innocent and genuine. The quiet moan of pleasure would have brought Damen to his knees. Unconsciously, Laurent’s head tipped back allowing Damen more access. His hands traveled beneath the chiton he held Laurent at the natural dip in his waist, the skin warm. This startled him and he flinched before exhaling with a nervous laugh. 

“I suppose that is one advantage to wearing so little clothing.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Damen asked.

“Yes, I’ve just never— it’s my first time.”

“I’m a little more experienced than that,” Damen said, his thumbs stroking the smooth skin of his stomach.

“Yes, that is apparent,” Laurent said, his face had warmed slightly, responding to Damen’s touch. 

“Really?” Damen asked, pleased. Laurent made a sound of affirmation before resuming the kiss. He unthinkingly reacted to the caress against his abdomen with a movement of his hips that ground against Damen. He was going to flip Laurent onto his back and escalate the encounter when the door to his chambers opened. 

Damen was frustrated and horrified to find not only the prince’s guards invading his quarters but also Auguste and King Aleron. Laurent stood up with a sigh straightening the chiton with no self-consciousness or embarrassment. The blue eyes lifted towards the invaders, prepared for battle. He couldn’t have been more intimidating with a sword in hand.

“What are you wearing?” Aleron asked, looking over the exposed limbs of his son with disgust.

“Do you like it?” Laurent repeated his little twirl to show off the garment. 

“This is not a game, Laurent,” Aleron said. “You have deliberately disobeyed me.”

“You have implemented nonsensical rules for only me,” Laurent stated.

“They’re to protect you,” Auguste stated.

“Protect me from what?” Laurent asked, turning his icy gaze towards his older brother. 

Auguste glanced uncertainly at Damen where he stood off to the side. “Protect your innocence,” he said.

“No,” Laurent said, “The only thing you’ve been protecting is your idea of me. For years I’ve endured visiting dignitaries whisper in my ear of what they would like to do to me. The insipid and specific gossip of pets is impossible to ignore. Especially those that have involved my own brother who has taken numerous candidates to bed or an empty hallway, whichever is closer.”

“Laurent, stop talking.” Aleron’s face was red.

“There are also scrolls and illustrated manuscripts of any erotic position you might wish to master available in certain temples.”

“Laurent.” A vein bulged on Aleron’s forehead. “Escort the prince back to his chambers.” The red faced guards stepped forward to take Laurent by the arm. 

“Auguste was hardly chaste even before being engaged and yet you impose these rules on me for what reason?” Laurent asked, still talking as he was led from the room. 

“Damianos, I must request that you pack your belongings and be prepared to leave by morning,” Aleron said. “I will have a ship ready to depart for Ios at dawn.”

“Father, we should talk about this before acting, we don’t want to risk offending Theomedes.”

“You are not the king yet, Auguste. My orders are still to be obeyed. Perhaps you should go talk some sense into your brother.”

Auguste’s face had hardened and the resemblance between brothers was clear. “Yes, my king.” He said turning on his heel.

Aleron and Damen were alone. The king cleared his throat before speaking, “I recognize how Laurent can be a— temptation. So I’m not going to place the blame entirely on either of you. But I don’t like the  brazen and reckless way my son behaves when you’re around.”

“If that’s the case, I’m proud my presence gives him the courage to speak his mind. I’ve enjoyed watching him grow into a confident young man,” Damen stated.

“I see,” Aleron said, his eyes traveled over Damen in consideration. “There will be a guard escort waiting to take you to your ship in the morning. The details of the engagement will be discussed when everything has settled down.” This final blow statement Damen and he failed to notice when Aleron left. The oblique political speak could be interpreted in a myriad of ways, but it made Damen worry. The night went by without sleep and the restless anxiety that his fear would come to fruition. A blue flower that had come free of the crown now rested on the couch where they had been. Damen tucked it into a fold of his robes.

The knock came before the sun was up. Damen did a head count of his guard escort and knew there weren’t enough, and that if he really wanted to, he could fight them off. 

“I want to say goodbye to Laurent,” Damen said.

“Our orders are to take you directly to the docks.”

Damen could have taken them, fought his way to a goodbye but couldn’t further jeopardize the engagement and went peacefully. In the stables he searched for a blond head and any chance that Laurent would make it in time. On horseback with the little entourage surrounding him, Damen continued to look over his shoulder. Even on the ship while sailors continued last minute preparations Damen clung to the railing, staring over the sandy hill hoping for even just a messenger with a letter. Ropes were cast off and Damen’s heart sank as the anchor was raised. 

He half turned to retire to his cabin when a horse crested the rise. Laurent rode onto the docks without slowing, the horse pushed into a merciless sprint. The coarse wood rattled beneath the hooves. Sailors shouted at him and the guards from Damen’s escort chased him down or attempted to startle the horse into stopping. The ship had pulled away from the dock. Damen didn’t know what Laurent intended to do as he charged towards the end. 

His heart was in his throat when Laurent leapt from the back of the horse into empty air. Damen reached for him, catching him with an arm around his waist, and pulled him over the rail into the solid safety of the deck.

Laurent was laughing while Damen worried his heart had stopped.

“You’re insane,” Damen said breathing a relieved laugh. His brain becoming preoccupied with the realization Laurent was beneath him. 

“You tried to leave without saying goodbye,” Laurent breathed.

“Sorry,” Damen said and unable to resist, kissed him, deep and heartfelt. Around them the ship had broken into chaos. The anchor dropped and the sailors tried to go backwards to the dock despite the tide ready to take them out to sea. Damen sat up pulling Laurent along with him. He knelt on the rough hardwood deck, still wearing the ridiculous chiton that caught in the salt breeze taking it, and his golden hair, in every direction. Damen pulled Laurent up off the rough deck, and arms circled his waist.

Laurent pressed a cold hand against Damen’s face. “This isn’t really goodbye. We’ll fix this.” He leaned in folding his arms around Damen’s neck in a loose embrace. With hands holding the slender waist, Damen pulled him back into a kiss, desperate to keep him close for a little longer. The blond hair blew into his face. 

Laurent pulled back, “Quit distracting me, I can’t think and we have to plan.”

Damen had to tell him now. It wouldn’t feel right to do it in a letter. “I wanted to tell you in a better way, but now with everything happening I need you to know that my father has been looking for other candidates. Specifically, ones capable of producing an heir.”

“Is that what you want?” Laurent asked calmly.

“No,” Damen said, and took the cold hand from his face to hold between both of his, “It will only ever be you.”

Laurent’s expression was still carefully neutral, looking down at their clasped hands.

Damen took the flower from his pocket, “Since neither of us was given a choice. I’ll ask now.” Damen went to a knee and tied the flower around Laurent’s slim finger. “Will you marry me?”

Laurent nodded, expression solemn. “Yes,” he said, then made a small sound of surprise when Damen pulled him down for a desperate kiss holding the slender body as close as he could.

Laurent pulled away to breathe, petting Damen’s hair. “You’re behaving like we’ll never see each other again,” he said.

“I’m not sure we will.” 

“We will,” Laurent said. “I spoke with Auguste through the night. We were able to reconcile. The current rulers can choose to keep us apart but their time is almost over and you will be better.” 

Damen captured the wayward blond strands of hair and smoothed them out of Laurent’s face to see the bright eyes. “We will be better,” Damen told him. “But no matter what happens I will keep my promise.”

“Good.” Laurent smiled before Damen pulled him in for a final kiss.

[alloveroliver]

Oliver X MC "The Punishment Game."

Rating: Smut 18+

Kinktober: October 1st, Masks | Formal Wear

A|N: Oliver Knight, masks, blindfold, spanking arms restrained, lots of teasing :3

WC: 3400+

Ikemen Revolution Fanfic

The music in the ballroom jumped with every pulse of her heart. Alice’s feet protested the high heeled pumps she wore that match her formal gown. People nodded her way as she excused herself through the flashing crowd to find rest at one of the empty tables away from the dance floor.

Her parched tongue felt like cotton from all the exertion she'd done with her friends, making yet another glass of champagne look absolutely delicious. She swiped the glass off the masked butler's tray and held the sweating flute in her hand. Moisture dripped down the side, and she licked her lips before taking a sip. 

The crisp elixir sated her taste buds and soothed her parched tongue for the moment. Alice sat the drink on the white table cloth and took a seat in the wooden chair. The crowd looked like strangers, all wearing identity covering masks that were designed to match their costumes. 

Alice reached up at touched hers. The jade feathers sticking out of the side stood tall, around and emerald encrusted base. With gold flecks and intricate designs, she knew only one person it could be from. 

Her invitation to the ball came taped to a large box filled with a costume and mask. There was no indication who it was from or why it was given to her specifically, but, here she was. She wore that very outfit to the ball and waited for someone, anyone, to fess up to who it may have been from. 

As the hours ticked by, she wondered if the culprit would ever show their face, so to speak. The beat boomed over the speakers, and the party raged on well past midnight. The townspeople mixed with the red and black officers raged on in the central quarter. 

Alice only met a couple of people she knew at the party as they freely introduced themselves. It was difficult to tell most of the women apart since they wore fancy wigs and extravagantly dressed, unlike their daily wear. 

Alice took another swig of her champagne and ended up downing the whole glass. After sitting for a moment, her tipsy buzz faded just long enough for her to realize she needed something that would actually rehydrate her. 

She smoothed down a piece of her hair that fell out of her curly updo and stood to her aching feet again. Remembering there were water fountains near the restrooms, she began making her way down the long hall away from the party toward them. Feathers atop her head bounced with each stride.

As the music faded, it became easy for her to hear her own thoughts again. The sound of her heels tapping the marble floors began to ring clear. Holding her feathers up out of the way, she leaned down to take a gulp of crisp cold water that sprang up from the fountain. She pushed the button for a long time, taking deep gulps of the clear liquid until her stomach was satisfied.

"There you are, darling." A deep voice echoed off the hallway walls.

Alice turned her head, wiping away stray droplets that clung to her lips with her fingertips. 

"Um, hello?" She looked the tall figure up and down. 

The man wore an all-black tux with a black bowtie and a solid black mask. His hair looked black in the dim hallway making his pale skin the central aspect of him to stick out. Handsome was the first word that came to her mind. 

The tux was obviously customized to his person, coming in at his sides showing off his lean physique with a play on angles. He took a step closer, his matte black shoes tapping on the floor. She wondered why she hadn't heard them following behind her before, then again maybe she did and was too preoccupied with her thirst that she didn't hear it.

As she moved closer, his pink lips stood out more. They were plump and cured up into a smile the longer she stared. “You look good in my gift. However, I already knew you would.”

"Who are you?" She asked timidly, feeling slightly bad she couldn't recognize the man before her. 

"You can't tell?" His lips quirked up even more as if that was his plan all along. 

A disguise seemed to be precisely what he was going for. Who was it that Alice knew that called her darling? Alice wracked her tipsy brain and found nothing.

"I'm sorry, please forgive me. But no, I cannot." She used candor and cursed the last few glasses of champagne. If she hadn’t had that last drink maybe she would have figured it out by now. She wasn’t too hard on herself though, the man clearly didn't want to be easily recognized by anyone.

He stepped even closer, and the scent of his cologne permeated her nose. She noticed the black button-down shirt under the black vest he wore. The patterns of the black fabrics were slightly different, matching raised diagonals and horizontal lines instead of matching colors. 

"This isn't the first time," He tisked, frowning as if he were tasting something sour. 

Alice knew that sound. She placed her pointing finger to her chin and searched her memory again for where she'd heard it before. A giggle bubbled out from her lips instead of an idea. She shook her head to push the fog away. 

"Are you going to tell me who you are?" Alice asked as the man grew closer. He kept a comfortable distance between them and leaned his shoulder against the wall. His relaxed pose sent her another clue. 

"I will give you three guesses," He crossed his arms. 

The way he held his hand on his elbow, holding his arm with the other she knew immediately who he was. She'd seen the man she was dating in the same pose hundreds of times in the past several weeks. The scent of his cologne, though mixed with a more bodied fragrance for his formal attire, still hinted at the same man. 

She smiled flirtatiously and crossed her own arms to mimic him. She knew immediately who this was. 

"And what if I lose?" She cocked a brow despite her features being hidden by the mask. 

"Then we will have to play a punishment game." Deep vocals echoed off the empty halls reminding her how very alone they were. 

She listened carefully to his voice through her tipsy haze, past the loud thumping music, and focused on the way he spoke. There was no doubt in her mind that this was Oliver. 

"I'd like to know what the game entails." 

"How about you guess first, then I'll tell you the rules." He pushed off the wall with his shoulder and walked around her. From behind, he leaned in close to her ear and added. "What do you say?"

"Deal." 

The man laughed at her quick response. He stood up straight and tugged his vest to smooth out any creases. 

"Okay, Guess number 1"

"Lancelot," Alice answered in a flash. She smiled, hoping not to end the rouse with the obvious fail. 

"I am clearly not Lancelot you airhead. Lancelot is blond." 

"Oh," She feigned a pout. "Wishful thinking." She smirked, then dashed off into one of the empty rooms in the hall. 

"Get over here," Oliver snapped, reaching for her hips but missing her entirely.

The room was filled with stacks of chairs and folded up tables. The windows were uncovered, leaving the moon to light the ample storage space. 

The man in black caught her from behind and picked her up. Spinning her around, he sat her on the end of a granite countertop and parted her knees. The dress skirt moved up with her legs, and he was easily able to fit his hips between her thighs. The countertop seemed to be part of a permanent bar they had for events that took place in this very room. The custom height was perfect for their bodies to fit together nicely.

"Guess number 2," 

His eyes were glowing with the moon, making them look like an impenetrable fog. Oliver was outlined with a silvery haze, complimenting his deep black attire. 

"Um," She looked him over thoughtfully, checking him out thoroughly. She placed her hand on her chin to further her teasing ruse. "Sirius?"

Oliver tisked again, catching her hands in his grip. He pinned them up above her head with one hand and guided her to lay back with the other. 

"Seems like you want to be punished, little girl." Oliver let his voice drop near her ear. 

Alice's heart raced with every syllable of the word 'punished.' Playfully, she jerked against his grip and smiled up at him. 

Their masks would get in the way if they wished to be any closer. 

"You never said who I was." She forced herself to breathe slowly. 

He smirked and used his free hand to push her mask up. As he revealed her face, his features relaxed and softened. "Alice. The Alice. My Alice." He bit out her name each time before revealing her flushed face. The air in the room hit her warm cheeks, making her feel oddly exposed. 

"Your Alice?" She taunted despite her visibly disadvantaged position. She and Oliver had dated, but he never officially asked her to become his. It was something she'd hoped for, but he had yet to ask outright. 

He didn't respond. As if he was worried for a moment that he'd said something wrong. He kissed the side of her neck, gently grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin. Raised fleshed pebbled down her arm and she sighed into the sensation. 

"One more guess, then I will explain to you how a punishment game works." He considered  collarbone before kissing the dip. 

"Dark hair, gray eyes, pale skin, tall, handsome... with an attitude." She listed off his traits. "It could only be one person I know." 

Oliver lifted his eyes to hers. His pupils dilated, and his lips parted. He waited with bated breath for her to finish. 

"Yes? Well, spit it out."

"You're…. You're Harr." 

In a flash, Oliver undid the black scarf that hung from his waist and quickly tied her wrists together. His brows pinched, and he was mumbling something inaudible between pursed lips. 

His teeth were grit as he spat out his words. "Rule number 1, you must remain quiet, so we don't get found out" He tightened the scarf and neatly tied it to the faucet. 

"Rule number 2, You will beg me for each punishment."

As he began listing off the rules in a frustrated state, Alice couldn't help but smile. He had to know she was teasing him, yet it felt so good to watch him squirm. 

Oliver pulled her masked back down, but not entirely so that her vision as blocked. The soft fabric worked wonders as a blindfold, keeping her entirely in the dark. 

Alice squirmed against the restraints but froze when she felt his breath tickling her cheek. She sensed he was just above her lips. In a moment of bravery, Alice pressed her face forward until her mouth melted against his. 

Oliver nibbled her bottom lip and kissed her back fervently. The heat in his kiss lit her body on fire. He poured all his emotions into that kiss, frustration and lust, leaving her breathless when they finally parted. 

"Let me touch you." He spoke as more of a request than a demand.

"I thought I was already yours,"

Oliver didn't speak for a long moment. "That doesn't answer my question."

"You didn't ask one."

"Will you let me touch you?" He rephrased his statement, punctuating every word with a slight pause.

"You can if you like." 

"I would like to very much." His voice trailed off as he moved away. She could hear movement from where he stood but was unable to see what he was doing. 

A hand began to travel up her ankle, moving her formal dress up her leg. Once at her knee, Oliver flipped the bottom of the dress up and revealed her panties. 

"Oh, these are cute," Oliver slipped his finger between her thighs, hooking around the center part of the fabric. His knucle brushed her heated sex. "Very cute." He pulled and yanked the panties down to her ankles. "But they look even cuter on the floor." Alice closed her legs as the blush on her cheeks spread to the tips of her ears. "I know you can't see them for yourself, but take my word for it." 

He placed both of his large hands on her knees and pulled them apart. His breathing hitched as he seemed to take in the sight before him. Her elbows were slightly bent, hands clasped together while the scarf held her in place. 

Alice bit her lip and turned her head away. Her vision was blocked, but she felt exposed for the second time tonight, making her stomach flip. 

Oliver kneeled before her and pressed his lips to her inner knee. Another kiss met her thigh while his fingers dug into her skin, holding her legs apart. 

"Now, ask me nicely to bite you." Despite his murmuring against her skin, he still sounded as demanding as ever. 

"I- what?" 

"You must ask me to bite you, darling. I won't repeat myself again." 

"But…" She fidgeted her legs in his grasp. 

"Either I bite you here, or I flip you over, and you can beg me to spank you. How's that?" 

Under the mask, Alice's eyes went wide. Her hands gripped together as she processed his words. Oliver's lips hovered over her thigh, kissing tenderly while he waited. 

"I think…" She began, chewing her bottom lip. 

"Yes?" His breath wafted over her thighs. 

"I… I want you to spank me." 

Oliver stood in one fluid motion and pulled her hips off the counter. He twisted her to face the granite surface and kicked her legs apart. The dress fell back down, but he pushed it up and bunched it at her waist. 

His hand gripped her ass and massaged her muscles. Alice buried her face in the crook of her arm and took in a deep breath. 

"Please-" 

"This is hot..." Oliver whispered. "Please, what?" He spoke in a louder, more commanding tone. 

"Mmm," She squirmed at his touch. "Please spank me." 

It was the pop she heard first before the sting on her skin sizzled. She yelped then pressed her lips together to halt anymore sound. The sensation went right to her core, igniting her lust like a wildfire. The heat spread down her legs, and her knees went weak. Alice was glad to have the counter there holding her up, so she didn't waver under his punishment. 

"Again… Please." She whispered, her voice echoing off the countertop. 

Oliver's hand came down on the other side, sending more heat through her body. The tips of her toes tingled, and Alice let out a sigh. However, the sound was laced with more than she bargained for, making Oliver's ears perk up. 

"Are you really moaning at this?" He tisked in a teasing manner and ran his hand along her core. 

The pad of his finger slid easily along her slick center. He paused at the apex of her sex, pushing softly on her delicate clit. 

"Tell me, do you think that was enough punishment?" 

"Do you?" She snapped back with an equal attitude. "It's your punishment, after all." 

Oliver pressed his finger down hard on her bundle of nerves and listened to her hiss in ecstasy. Her thighs quivered once he set a slow and agonizing speed circling the helpless nub. He added heaps of pressure, making her legs jerk each time he hit a strong nerve.  

"I think you should remain tied up, as further punishment." 

His finger dipped slowly into her hole, and Alice clinched her walls against the digit. He twisted the finger around to press against the soft patch just inside. 

"Oh… my god." Alice moaned, breath now fogging the counter with each pant. "Faster"

"You are in no position to demand pleasure from me." His voice dropped in a dominating fashion. 

"Please?" She tried to beg, but the loss of sensation followed her helpless plead. 

Suddenly, his lips were hovering over her ear. His body was encasing hers from behind, and his hand gripped the back of her hair. 

"No." He breathed the word out like a puff of smoke. 

Alice gulped, waiting for his lips to meet her skin. The electricity between the small distance from his mouth to her neck was palpable. She squirmed in his iron grip until he made a move. 

"Let me fuck you." He whispered again, assuredly letting his nerves dissipate before he asked this time. 

"Is that a question…" Her voice wavered with the weight of excitement and anticipation. Her stomach filled with butterflies and twisted with knots. 

"It is." 

She gulped, wishing she could see his face at this moment. The mask still covered her eyes, and her hands were still tied above her head. Alice was unable to touch him to map out his features with her fingers. Nor was she able to see his expressions and memorize every nuance each one had. 

"Yes…" She pressed her backside against his hips while his lips met her neck in a flurry of small kisses. His lips moved in a pattern, tickling the skin beneath her ear. "Don't keep me waiting" She smirked, and Oliver let out a mild chuckle. 

His hand left her body while he whispered into her ear. "Where did you get all this attitude from?" His jest was punctuated with a nip to the shell of her ear. 

Alice's heart pounded against the counter top's surface, hearing him shift his slacks behind her. 

"You."

"Ah," He nuzzled the side of her neck. "Good excuse, but I don’t buy it."

Without much warning, he pressed his full length within her. His breath left his lungs in one huff while his hand moved along the roundness of her ass. 

"Oh, fuck." Alice mewled. Her cunt trembled against the sudden stretching. 

He took another breath and moved his hips incrementally. In the dark, her senses began to heighten. Every touch of his fingertips trailing along her skin sent a spark through her nerves. 

He stayed as close as he could to her as if he couldn't bear to be apart for long. His hands moved to brush her hair to one side to allow his lips to travel over more surface area. Every thrust was slow as he buried himself as deep as possible. 

Alice's breath picked up despite his slow tempo. Her pussy quivered with each deep movement that she thought she could see stars behind the mask. 

"I'm close." She moaned after minutes of his slow torture while pulling on the ties that bound her hands. "I can't hold back." Her back arched while her walls clenched tight to him. 

"Rule number  3," His breathless huff gave away how much pleasure he was experiencing. "You have to say my name when you cum." His tone was laced with a smugness that Alice knew all too well. 

She let out a breathless laugh and felt him speed up. His hands grabbed her hips, pulling her back into the speed with him. 

Her core ached with every second she held back her release. She knew the game was over when toes curled and eyes scrunched closed. A warmth washed over her body, making her mouth drop open and her thighs sake. 

"Fuck!" She groaned, trying to grasp at something with her tied hands. "Fuck, Ol-iver" She moaned loudly into the room, letting her voice echo off the under decorated walls. "Oliver! D-Don't… stop." She pleaded. “Please don’t stop”

He didn't stop. He went faster as if to reward her for following his rules. It prolonged her release, allowing wave after wave of trembling pleasure to wash over her being.

Soon her muscles went slack, and Oliver reached over her to untie the scarf from her wrists. Twisting her around, he panted while gently kissing her wrists. Her dress fell back down to her ankles as she stood to her feet. 

He removed the mask from her eyes, and he let her do the same from him. They tossed their masks to the floor, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Their lips came together in kind. Oliver bestowed a heated, dizzying kiss to Alice's lips while he held her close against his chest. The party felt like a million miles away by now. All that was left was just the two of them alone in the universe.  

.

.

.

Oof, starting with my bae. XD

[ladynorbert]

Hey ladynorbert!! This is your Wintersend secret Santa lady. I have been watching you from afar (in a totally non-creepy way I promise) and I've noticed you're a really avid writer. I would like to therefore make you an art. I know your fave pairing is Varric/Bethany, so I was wondering if you could write a little bit about why? And how you characterize Bethany in your head. I don't know much about them and DA2 is probably my least-played game. So anything you might share would be so helpful!

MY MOMENT HAS ARRIVED. SOMEONE ACTUALLY WANTS ME TO TALK ABOUT MY LOVE FOR THIS OTP. MANY APOLOGIES TO THE REST OF YOU BECAUSE THIS IS A SUBJECT ON WHICH I HAVE A LOT TO SAY AND RARELY GET THE OPPORTUNITY TO SAY IT.

Let’s see, where do I begin?

[Editor’s note: With me, obviously. I’m right here.]

Ah yes, excellent point, voice in my head that never quite goes away.

Varric Tethras is a member of the Dwarven Merchants’ Guild, though not entirely by choice I suspect. He’s rich, he’s well-connected, he’s charming, he’s cultured. I am deeply attached to him because there are many things we have in common - we both had an alcoholic parent whose drunken rages were a defining part of our childhoods, we both write stories which are strangely well-received, we both prefer to be by the fire, we are both intensely loyal to those who have earned our loyalty, and we both like pretty much everybody until they give us a reason not to like them.

Varric has a very painful past for a number of reasons. The Tethras family was always, in many ways, more like a business than a family; his official biography (for the DA tabletop RPG) even says that his older brother Bartrand always treated him more like a colleague than a sibling. His father died when he was a toddler; his mother was a drunk; and his brother cared more about making money than anything. He had a torrid love affair with another dwarf, and Inquisition makes it clear that there’s still some lingering feeling, but she broke off the plan to elope and instead went through with the marriage her parents arranged for her. 

Basically, I feel like for years, all Varric knew about love was that it hurt you in one way or another. Then he met the Hawkes.

Bethany Hawke is the youngest of the three Hawke siblings. In the games where she survives the prologue, she’s already lost her father to the Blight and her twin brother to an ogre. She’s also an apostate mage, so she’s spent most of her life hiding from Templars and trying to conceal what she really is. Despite hardship and personal anguish, however, she’s an incredibly sweet, warm-hearted, generous person. (In games where she dies, Hawke tells Anders that Bethany never turned away anyone who needed her help.) If she goes to the Circle (which is where I always send her, because becoming a Grey Warden makes her miserable), she becomes highly regarded even by the Templars and is given a position of authority over younger student mages. 

She loves her family, she cares deeply for her friends, and she’s kind to practically everyone. As a result, she’s the only companion besides Varric who is liked by everyone else in Hawke’s personal circle. Even Fenris, who absolutely despises mages on principle, develops a strong affection for Bethany as well as respect for her mastery of her magic.

So that brings us to why do you ship it? Frankly, there’s so much ship tease inherent in their interactions that I have a hard time believing that the devs didn’t intend us to ship it. Here’s what I’ve observed.

1) Varric gives nicknames to everyone in his social circle (except Hawke and Aveline, and later the Inquisitor). By and large, these are either superficial (Blondie, Elf, Curly) or sarcastic (Tiny, Junior, Chuckles). Bethany’s is one of the few exceptions to that rule. Bethany’s nickname is Sunshine. It’s clearly affectionate.

2) Varric has several lines in which he talks about the sun. One of these is in a party banter with Bethany herself; she asks him about the Tethras family being Orzammar nobility, and he concludes his thoughts on the matter by saying that part of the reason he prefers the surface is because “it’s sunnier here”. He also tells Hawke, in a possible cutscene dialogue, that he was born on the surface and is perfectly happy about it because “Sunshine suits me just fine.” Plus, his final tarot card in Inquisition is literally The Sun. 

Sunshine is one of Varric’s favorite things. He named Bethany after something he loves.

3) When he first meets the Hawke siblings, Varric is very suave and charming toward Hawke because he wants Hawke to go along with his plan for the expedition. But when he starts talking to Bethany, his tone of voice changes. I don’t know how to explain it - he’s not quite flirting, but he’s damn close to it.

4) Varric snarks at everybody. Everybody. It’s just how he relates to people. But he’s never snarky toward Bethany. His voice is always full of fondness when he talks to her.

5) Bethany rarely laughs. But when she does, it’s either Hawke or Varric causing it - and her laugh for Varric sounds way more like a flirty giggle than anything.

6) If Bethany dies in the Deep Roads, Varric is devastated. I mean full-on crushed. (Props to Brian Bloom, because his voice acting brought me to tears. “Oh, Sunshine.”) And he continues to hate himself for years because of it… clicking on him during Act 2, which is set three years later, will sometimes prompt him to say “Poor Sunshine… Bartrand will pay for her death, I promise you.” 

7) Bring Varric and Bethany as companions for either/both of the DLC campaigns, then try to tell me that there’s not something there.

(a) Legacy has less flirting, probably because of the seriousness of the situation. Regardless of when it’s done, Bethany is so upset by what’s happened that it shows on her face. If the DLC is done in Act 1, Varric actually thinks she’s ill because she looks so upset, and he’s worried. If it’s done in 2 or 3 with Circle!Bethany, she’s understandably freaked out because the Carta actually attacked her in the Circle, and only the presence of Templars saved her. Varric’s remarks to her are soothing, reassuring, and a little bit teasing (which gets her to laugh). And even if it’s done with Warden!Bethany, there’s something there - he flat out tells her that it’s good to see her, and he’s the only companion toward whom she can’t be cold.

(b) Mark of the Assassin, though… bring Varric and Circle!Bethany. He straight up hits on her. First there’s this interaction where she’s fussing about her clothes.

“I can’t believe I wore this to the Chateau. Maker, what was I thinking?”

“That it’s the uniform of the Circle and you could make a burlap sack look good?”

“It’s hardly the height of fashion.”

“You would kill these people if you wore the height of fashion.”

Later, when they’re running around in the dungeons trying to find Hawke and Tallis, he makes a comment about the quickness of her stride. She quips back at him, rather playfully, and he says, “There’s my Sunshine.” That single line is spoken in absolutely the warmest and sweetest voice we ever hear him use in either game where he appears. 

8) In Act 1, after the Hawkes have reclaimed Grandfather Amell’s will, Varric has party banter in which he addresses Bethany as “Milady Sunshine” (making her giggle) and also “my lady.” Coupled with the “my Sunshine” line mentioned above, that’s a lot of possessive pronouns, Varric. She is literally the only character in any of the games whom he ever calls “my” anything other than “my friend.”

9) Like the rest of the DAII companions, Varric makes comments when someone falls in battle. If that someone happens to be Bethany, his reaction is very interesting. The line itself is a bit of gold - “Hold on, Sunshine, I’m coming!” - but the tone of voice is especially delightful. It manages to sound equal parts reassuring and really pissed off, like whatever took her down is going to pay dearly for touching her.

10) If she’s still alive in Inquisition, Varric has several lines in which he indicates that he writes to her frequently. He also has a very interesting line if Bethany went to the Circle and is still alive as of Inquisition; following the events of the quest “Here Lies the Abyss”, he may have party banter with Cassandra in which she inquires, “And Hawke’s sister - she’s still alive, isn’t she?” Varric’s response is to say, in a slightly hostile tone, “Better be!”

So why do I ship it? In shortest form, they are both generous people who give a lot to others. They both care a lot about other people, sometimes even when they know it’s not the wisest thing. Most of all, their interactions make it very clear that, romantically or otherwise, they genuinely love each other. Theirs is a warm, honest, mutually respectful relationship and I think that they could really be happy together in a healthy way. And after the amount of crap they’ve both survived, I really want them to be happy.

For more stuff like this, come to @sunny-stories - it’s the greatest boat in the history of boats.

Thank you so much for the ask, anon! I look forward to whatever beautiful gift you decide to craft for me - I’m sure I will love it!

[therisingtithes]

So 1. There is no "merely body-checking" anyone. Almost any violence has the potential to kill someone. If you're going to advocate using violence, at least have the decency to acknowledge that you will kill people, even if unintentionally. 2. Compared to Nazis, republicans here in the US actually pose a far greater threat to my life in several ways. Why not kill them? What possible reason could there be not to do so?

I really do not get why, in a conversation about the inherent lack of moral value of premeditated murder, you find physical resistance so much more odious than premeditated murder that you would... literally insist upon committing premeditated murder, and then blame your insistence on your own hangups about physical resistance.

Re: #1--

Your assumption that I do not somehow understand that someone can die in a physical altercation, to me, says more about what you consider an obvious fact about a physical altercation than it says about my assumed disingenuousness. That still doesn’t mean I want anyone to intentionally kill anyone else, that I want anyone to die, or that I don’t want anyone to take responsibility under the law for taking someone else’s life.

It sounds as a result as if you’re insisting that the physical restraint used against ideologies that directly endorse violence cannot be critically immobilizing rather than murderous–or worse, that you want to kill people. And I mean, if you would like to kill people, or to make a case for killing people, that’s on you, but I think people that kill people should face punishment under the law (and that, the moral value in denying the amassing of power to fascists notwithstanding, people should be responsible under the law for punching Nazis, too–another thing I imagined to be painfully obvious). I just also think that empowering people who want to kill people to amass the human, financial, and status resources necessary to kill people will inevitably lead to them killing people. If your nitpick, therefore, is that asking to hitstun people can potentially kill them inadvertently, or whether people should or shouldn’t take responsibility for that, then I shudder to wonder what is the rebuttal to asking to purposely kill large groups of marginalized people as a valuable sociopolitical imperative–and whether the people who intentionally want to do so can be swayed by reason, which is the primary concern. 

Re: #2--

To begin, with the very least assumptive quality possible your second statement presupposes that there are other groups of people–Jews, Muslims, Black people, Hispanic/Latino people etc., especially those on multiple axes of marginalization, such as women, LGBT persons, the disabled etc.–whose vastly different lived experience makes the question of the threat of Nazis somehow moot. I submit that those groups of people are under threat by both the far right in general and fascists in particular, which makes acknowledging both, and the shared political power between both, noteworthy.

As for the rest of that… again, if you want to make a case for killing people, go ahead, but given the moral guideline I have already put forward, I will see you as worthy of judgment similarly. I draw the line at killing people or endorsing the killing of people, hence the hitstunning. If that is a more morally reprehensible notion to someone than that of a group of people who do endorse killing large swaths of people, already wish to act, and don’t care about moralizing, that’s on that someone.

In particular this is a good place to add that part of the reason this is an issue at all is that if a group of people is already committed to the perceived sociopolitical value of killing people, has already begun to amass political status and manpower, and is not moved by the similar moral concerns as you, then pacifism fundamentally comes down to waiting for marginalized people to be destroyed in order to intervene by law (which, at least to me, obviously is not the same moral guideline one uses in a micro level, like when someone breaks into your home and threatens to harm you). And if those people finally amass political status, the law will inevitably be challenged to intervene–a thing history has literally proven.

Put simply, if radically violent ideologies should be allowed to recruit via propaganda, should not be punished for literally inciting genocide, and should not be opposed by any means when refuse reason, then the alternative should be one posited by those who insist upon debate as a last resort. Either those people can tell us how the instated fascist officials of an elected leader can be deposed, those people can illustrate how those officials’ power can be devalued, or those people can proffer solutions to when the violence actually begins that somehow allow the victims of that violence to maintain the high moral ground while also being literally bulletproof.  

The functional alternative is that someone proves to me that nations like the US and the UK have legal systems in place that see the power of hate speech enough to punish someone for literally writing that there is moral value in wiping out Black people or refusing to recognise the citizenship of Jewish people, and then telling me that individuals like Spencer have been duly punished or are on the way to being duly punished. Seeing as Spencer is literally still selling his fascist wares in public, I am unconvinced.

I guess you are in part being fundamentally asked either a.) whether you think the phase of one’s moral turn when one is expected to act to prevent violence against marginalized people is after; b.) whether you think the moral card that can be played in that phase is purely intellectual even when the opponent is not moved by the value of marginalized lives; or c.) whether instead you (and only you out of the two of us) think the moral card that must be played in any phase is premeditated murder against the opponent.

‘cause if you ask me–and after all, this is an ask… sent to me, however potentially intense and problematic that ask is phrased–it is more morally sound that some opponents are not asked to play primarily because their game is premeditated genocide in the service of sociopolitical untruths the lack of value of which they cannot be convinced, and they have already amassed enough tokens and power required to act on any turn murderously.

Intentionally seeking to destroy a group of people as a rule, attempting to persuade others that there is sociopolitical value in willfully destroying a group of people as a rule, or seeing sociopolitical value in willfully destroying a group of people as a rule, is an indefensible position, and people who have or seek the power to do so should not be allowed, even physically, lest they actually destroy people. 

I don’t know what to tell you. If you want a reason to kill people, ask someone else. Maybe a Nazi, I guess?