#and that water reveals the one thing that hints humans towards my true form

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Black girls and women really be the original mermaids because who else’s hair changes when water hits it. Like we going from silk press to Type 3c-4 beauty. Not only that but we put seashells in our hair! The evidence is right there—

[rxqueenotd]

The Girl Next Door part V

Pairing: Jeryd Mencken x OFC

Warnings: sexual content, age gap, affairs, unhealthy relationships, dubious morality, my improper use of commas, pure angst, mention of politics.

A/N: For the four people that read this, thank you so much. I almost scrapped this fic earlier this week (the full moon really had me in a full blown tizzy) but this chapter poured out of me at six AM this morning. (Y’all want me to make a tag list? Would that make life easier?)

WC: 1811

“You’re twenty-two?” He hung over my shoulder, watching with darting eyes as I filled out each line of the necessary paperwork for employment through the university.

“I feel like that should’ve been a prerequisite question, don’t you?” I looked back at him and shrugged with an alarmed look on my face.

“Is it my turn to ask if you’re legal?” I joked, watching as he crossed the kitchen and made his way over to the refrigerator.

“To be fair, I estimated you were around that age.” He grabbed the carton of orange juice and turned around towards the drying rack, plucking two wine glasses out, filling them with orange juice.

“Estimations aren’t exact.” I grabbed the glad he slid in my direction and lowered my eyes, “Not very careful of you.”

“They ID’d you at the restaurant, genius,” he shot back at me, “I’m observant.”

I slid the finished paper over to him. He picked it up, skimming the details as he sipped his orange juice.

“Luciano?” He glanced down at the paper and back at me, “That’s your last name?”

I shrugged, “What about it?”

“You’re one bad joke away from joining the mafia.”

“You’re one more insult away from waking up with a severed horse head in your bed.” I countered as I poured the remaining orange juice into the sink and rinsed out the glass.

He narrowed his eyes at me, following my eyeline as I idled about the kitchen, pretending I was focused on anything but him.

“Godfather one or two?” He asked.

“You hardly know me well enough to ask those types of questions.” It was easy to feign innocence when I wasn’t directly looking at him.

“HA!” He bellowed, “That’s rich considering the events of last night,” He laughed again, “You’re funny.”

“Now you’re turning pink.” He cocked his head to the side and lowered his eyes, “Don’t get all shy on me now, Livvy.”

“I’m not shy,” even with my proclamation, I still couldn’t look him in the eye, “I’m still processing it.”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” he mocked with an eye roll,“Should we call a priest? Your therapist?”

“We could call your wife.”

That garnered the reaction I so desperately craved. A little hint of something boiling under the surface threatened to spill over and I waited with baited breath for him to tear into me. In a sick way, I anticipated it. Any crack in the surface to reveal his true nature, or anything of the sort. Something real, something I could latch onto. My own personal souvenir to remind myself that, like me, he was actually human. For a while, he had been a caricature to me. A walking trope actualized in the way he bantered with me, stared at me through his long eyelashes, existed within the confines of my home, my job, my dock. The only thing I knew about him was that he was a reckless driver, previously taught at a high school in Roslyn, liked two lemons in his ice water, and that he had an entire wife and a life so far removed from mine that he may as well have lived on Mars.

I itched for him to ask me my LSAT score, my favorite color, what fucked up series of events had led me to seek sexual gratification from my married neighbor with whom I shared a twenty year age difference.

It was at this very moment, I realized I was never built to be regarded as casual. In other words, being someone’s dirty secret only took care of the gap between my legs, my heart and ego bearing the brunt of his casual coolness.

I grabbed the form from his grip and held it closely to my chest.

“If there’s going to be an issue with us working so closely, I don’t want this job. I’m still technically employed at The Marina.”

He was quick to grab it back from me. A look of disapproval flashed across his face.

“We’re good, Olive.” He moved closer to me, patting me reassuringly on the shoulder.

I nodded, listening as his footfalls echoed from the entryway as he made his way to the front door.

I wish I had the restraint to walk away from him as easily as he walked away from me.

_________________________________________

A day later, we made the trip to the university together. A bad choice on my part, I know, but I genuinely enjoyed his company.

He didn’t seem to mind my company, nor did he seem to mind my stealing the occasional glance at him. A look of approval colored his features as he looked over at me while waiting at a stoplight.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m just looking at you, Olive.”

“Well, don’t.”

That earned me a chuckle as the light turned green.

Getting approval from the university was child’s play. My fingerprints were clean, my background untarnished, my last name garnering enough attention from the hiring office that the job was offered to me on the spot. Turns out I didn’t need his help after all. Though I’d never admit it aloud, I appreciated his offer, flattering myself despite the obvious manipulative undertones both of us were well aware of when the job was offered, considered, and taken.

“You could have told me your grandfather is the district attorney for Manhattan, for Christ’s sake.” He spoke lowly as we walked back to his car.

He opened the door for me and I slid into the passenger's seat, watching as he skulked to the driver’s side and climbed in.

“Is there anything else I should know?” He asked, eyebrows piqued.

“Part two,” I said, and he looked at me confusedly, “The Godfather.”

“Right.” he chuckled, “Are we friends now, Livvy?”

“No, actually,” I rolled the window down, tipping my hand in the wind.

“We’re colleagues.”

_________________________________________

The second mistake I made that day was going over to his house to discuss lesson plans as well as his teaching preferences.

“No fancy transitions, no bubbly text, no stupid pictures,” he told me as he clicked through an example of one of his PowerPoint presentations.

“These are college students, not kindergarteners.”

‘Poli Sci 408- The American Presidency,’ his syllabus read, with a brief introductory statement framing the coursework: This subject describes the types, functions and roles of the Chief Executive, personal administration, administrative corruption, financial administration and administrative improvement.

“No fun in Professor Mencken’s class,” I mockingly saluted him, “I got it.”

Only later would I realize how ironic it had been to stand in the future president’s kitchen discussing the details of his class, which included administrative corruption, given the nature of our relationship.

When he left me alone at his laptop to click through his lesson plans, I did anything but that. I glanced around the kitchen and adjoining living room, my curious feet carrying me to the entryway. No colors, no personal style, no signs of life in the living space. The style screamed avoidant. Like he could pick up his stuff in one go and run out the door at any given moment.

What caught my eye the most, though, was the photo on the fireplace’s mantle. A wedding photo of him and his wife framed in plated gold with the words ‘From This Moment On’ etched into the bottom of the frame in flowing cursive.

I picked it up, my fingertips gliding gently across the glass as I inspected the photo. The refined ball gown she wore with its basque bodice dripping onto the tulle skirt met with a shirred waistline, all made of matte satin throughout. The delicate V back coming to a halt with a simple bow, the chapel length train trailing behind her as they gazed adoringly at one another. He could have been standing there completely naked in the photo and I still would have only noticed how her delicate collarbones peaked through from under the high scoop neckline. Her face, her timeless American beauty. Brunette hair down to her chin, curled under at the ends, framed neatly with a headpiece at the crown of her head. Her veil flowing gently in, what I imagined to be, the summer breeze.

Suddenly I was a little girl again, gazing through the storefront window on Madison Avenue as an elated bride-to-be twirled around in front of the floor length mirror, surrounded by her friends.

Mrs. Mencken was now as real to me as that woman had been. My guilt now had a face.

I slid the frame back onto the mantle and turned around, smacking right into Jeryd’s chest.

“Do you still want to call her?”

I shook my head vehemently, swallowing audibly as I looked up at him.

His face remained calm as he blinked down at me expectantly, his eyebrow sloping at the arch.

He fucked me hard against the wall after that. My legs wrapped around his waist like a noose when he hoisted me up and took me right there in his living room. A reward, I guessed, for not spilling my guts on his carpet or to his wife. In all reality, I had wanted him to fuck me. To break the code of professionalism that we had agreed on previously. I had dressed for the occasion, silently pretending a skirt with no panties was an innocent choice when he pulled it up to rest on my hips. The entire time, my head rested in the crook of his neck, my eyes burning holes through the photo that rested innocently in its rightful place on their mantle. I held onto him for dear life as he fucked into me, slowly coming to a halt as he pulled back to look into my eyes.

“Don’t do that.” He said, lowly chastising my wandering mind. “Don’t make it personal.”

I wanted to ask him what the fuck life is if it’s not personal but I stayed silent.

He brought his left hand to rest on my cheek as he balanced our weight against the wall. The coldness of his wedding band felt like something akin to holy water on the flesh of the possessed.

“Take it off,” I pleaded with him. He was confused by my outburst, his eyes narrowing down at me.

When I slid his finger into my mouth, the cold metal gripped between my teeth, he got the message. It pooled under my tongue briefly before I spit it onto the floor. The ring landed with a soft thud right in front of the rug on the fireplace.

He didn’t look away from me when he resumed his pace. Each time I tried to avert my gaze, he quite literally jerked my chin back to look directly at him.

I wanted to ask him if that was his idea of not making it personal.

But I didn’t.

[burntmcnuggies]

My Sweet Love

Dabi x Sweet Reader

Request: Hey!💗Сan I, please, have a girlfriend for Dabi who likes sweets? Candy, cakes, berries, stuff like that. And she always leaves some sweets for Dabi, because she knows that he will come to her apartment, even if she is not at home. And basically she leaves quite a lot of food for him. Thank you💗

warnings: none, just a fluffy story with a bit of angst at the end inspired by the latest manga chapters! Also my apologies for making it a bit angsty, I was in a mood haha

Word Count: 2.8K

There they were again.

The endless amount of sweets stacked upon the kitchen table for the flame-quirked villain.

Why you left so many sweets out for him was beyond his own comprehension. He couldn't even understand why you weren't a human cupcake by now with how many sweets you’d been leaving him lately. He's seen those videos you’ve shown him of 'is it cake?' and sadly watched people stab each other with forks or some other stupid shit. He's warned you before that if you ever approached him with a fork, he would burn you to a crisp. A sigh escaped his soft and wrinkly lips once he noticed there wasn't any real food around for him. The ebony-haired villain approached the pile of sweets for him, carefully picking up the small little note beside it, cringing at the silly nickname he loved but hated at the same time.

'Hey dabeebee! I left you some sweets because you are the sweetest thing in my life! :3 I know you'll probably complain looking for real food, I have hidden all of it outside just for you! If you want soba I left a pot out on the stove for you to use and put some water in it.

I love you so much dabeebee! <3

~(Y/N) : )

"Cheesy little shit..." He mumbled, searching around for some cheap booze. Of course, you had none in your possession, judging by you were only 21 and an innocent cautious adult. He sighed and finally stumbled upon a pack of instant ramen, forgetting the pot for soba on the stove deeming it too much work. He put it in the microwave and heated it up, watching the little plastic cup spin around. He took it out and slurped the noodles in the cup, savoring the flavor in his mouth. The heated food made his whole body slump in relaxation. Working for the league was tiring, and he’d lazily complained multiple times to you about it. He’d groan Shigaraki was being a spoiled little child, and get angry when he was forced to work with Geten. Ever since he came to you after their first battle, he had despised the ice-user.

Winter was when he became the most sensitive. Emotionally.

For whatever reason the villain would come visit you more often in the winter, struggling to concentrate whenever he was with you. It was like his mind was somewhere else, somewhere that made him sad. Hot cocoa always cheered him up in the slightest, something warm to melt the ice slowly starting to grow around his heart. Every time he saw you though, it all melted already, your soft voice and gentle touches taking away his pain. You were too sweet. “Stupid idiot...” He mumbled and finished his little cup of instant ramen. He strolled lazily up the stairs, a blank look on his face as he approached the door to your room. He stopped in front of the door and looked inside, pleased with the sight of you sleeping peacefully, unaware of his presence.

He stared at blankly, not a single thought running through his head as he began to shed his blemished jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Next came his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal more of the scarred flesh everyone always claimed to be disgusting. He easily removed his boots and pants, only left in his boxers. Pulling the covers back slightly, he eased himself into bed beside you, turquoise eyes burning holes into your slumbering form. His hand reached out towards your face, gently caressing it with what little was left of his humanity instead of scarred dead skin. “I hate you.” He whispered, not even bothering to speak the words he knew you already knew. A smile graced your lips feeling his touch, instantly knowing it was your lover due to the warmth radiating off of him.

His unspoken words lingered in the air as he pulled you closer towards him, refusing to let you go.

‘I hate you, because I love you so much.’

——

When you woke up and found Dabi in your bed, you couldn’t help but smile ear to ear seeing your handsome boyfriend snuggled against you. He barely got any good sleep, so you wanted him to sleep as long as he could. He was a light sleeper, like extremely light. He briefly mentioned something in his past always kept him alert and on edge, having problems with insomnia and pain. You weren’t stupid. You knew the aspect of Dabi’s powerful quirk, and how much spreads through his body when he over uses his terrifying flames. Carefully easing yourself out of bed, kissing his head very very softly, you tip-toed down to the kitchen to see if Dabi had eaten any of your little experiments.

They were all sadly still there.

“Damnit! If he doesn’t eat something then I won’t know what to get him for his birthday... it’s in a couple days...” You announced to yourself, sighing heavily. It was true, putting the candy out was to get Dabi to reveal what kind of candy he liked, or flavor of cake, anything to give you the slightest hint on what he would enjoy! That was why you hid the food, you were hoping he would settle and eat what he wanted to. That wasn’t the case. “Tonight I’ll put some cake slices out and label them... maybe then! Maybe then he’ll choose one!” A sweet smile spread across your lips, putting all the candy away and putting all the normal food back. All the while unaware of a pair of ears that had been listening the whole time.

——

Dabi left early that morning, going off to do some villainous work before he approached your house in the middle of the night. It was around at least 2am when he arrived. His body ached, skin burning and smoking. Today had been especially rough, but the cool air that gently blew against his hot skin made him feel better. But the aching in his heart made him feel all the more hot with rage and anger. His memories plagued his mind briefly before he remembered what laid waiting for him at your house. That’s right. It was his birthday in a couple days. And the extremeness of your efforts was to figure out once and for all what his favorite sweet was. He just wasn’t a fan of sweets and preferred spicy foods.

“That idiot. Always such a hassle. Possibly worse than that crusty bastard.” He mumbled to himself, rubbing his scarred up neck gently. He didn’t understand himself how he could love someone who’s blood was probably 100% sugar and had a personality sweeter than that. He found your spare key easily, slipping the key into the lock and letting himself inside. As per usual, there were sweets on the table, cake to be exact. There were 5 different slices laid out, each labeled. He approached the neatly cut slices, bright pink flowery post it notes under them.

Vanilla! :D

Chocolate! :D

Red Velvet! :D

Lemon! :D

Cheesecake! :D

‘Good morning Dabeebee! :3

I’m sure it’s like past 1am or 2 or something, so good morning! I hope your day was okay <3 I missed you! I didn’t hide the food this time because you still found it last time! >:( But please try these cake slices! I made them all myself! I loooooove you! >///<

~(Y/N) :)

The dark haired villain rolled his eyes, sighing heavily as he shrugged off his heavy navy coat. He hung it up lazily so he wouldn’t make a mess or wake you and crossed his arms staring at the slices. His turquoise eyes observed each slice, lips set in a firm line as he thought about the textures and icing. His calloused hands grabbed onto the metal of a fork, hoping it wouldn’t melt at the heat his body was still emitting from his hard “work” of the day. A bite of each would be sure to satisfy you right? He dove the fork into the first slice, chocolate, and carefully placed the spongy sweet into his mouth. He recoiled. ‘It’s too sweet.’

As Dabi continued trying the sweets, the vanilla/yellow cake was probably his favorite, but he still didn’t want a cake. He didn’t really want anything for his birthday. Well, maybe to be dead, but that seemed unrealistic now. He sat down on the couch, mind now becoming hazy and foggy with depressing thoughts. His hands clasped together, blunt nails slowly digging into the top parts of his hands that weren’t scarred. The stables began to burn, almost like the first time they were in. His hands grew shaky, eyes blankly staring at the ground in a horrific daze. He didn’t even notice the way his breathing had turned unstable. The scars increased in heat, even though there were no more flames there to hurt him. His hazy eyes cast upwards and his whole entire world almost shattered.

The villain shot up and punched the TV in front of him as hard as he could, beating the screen senseless, panicking as he tried to rid his brain of the reflection that glared back at him. The mere sight and thought of red flames coming near him made his stomach sick with anxiety and fear, especially in the safety of your home. His eyes began to burn with tears, but sadly his tear ducts burned almost with his sanity a long time ago. His fists became bloody and bruised, body becoming numb to the sound of his name being called loudly. As soon as a hand made contact with his arm, he jerked around and swung at whatever had touched him, fearing the worst. That was when his heart shattered, eyes wide in fear once he realized he had just knocked you down to the floor.

“(Y/N)? Ah, shit.” He quickly kneeled down beside you and raised his shaky hands, scared to even touch you. There was a large mark on the side of your cheek, tears already built up in your eyes. Dabi’s chest heaved in and out heavily, eyes burning hard as blood leaked from under his stapled skin. Choked and held in sobs racked through his body like thunder. It hurt so much, it hurt that he couldn’t cry, it hurt to have a constant reminder of his past, reminders of his failure, and it hurt to know that he was unwanted and incapable of being loved by another human being. People saw him as a monster, a freak with no heart.

“You’ve failed me as a son, it’d been better if you weren’t even born.”

He let out a loud cry for help, even though the words never came from his mouth, the simple scream of pain was enough to convey his silent plea. His heart, his eyes, his skin, his stomach, his head, his chest, his lungs, everything hurt, a pain he couldn’t handle by himself. “FUCK!!” He shouted, blood dripping onto the floor with the crack of his broken voice. His whole body recoiled and flinched once he felt your soft hands gently caressing his scarred forearm. Why weren’t you leaving? Why weren’t you yelling at him? Why didn’t you hit him back? Why did you take his small abuse so quietly just like he did? Why were you just silently comforting him in the smallest way? “(Y/N)-“

“Shh, it’s okay now Dabi.” He flinched at your voice, firm yet soft, unwavering, no fear or disgust present at all. Just a loving tone for your significant other. Your hands gently pushed his forearms away from him, and you pulled him Into a tight hug, head buried into his neck. “There’s no need to cry, or fear anything... I’m here, Dabi... it’s okay... I’ve got you, honey.” His eyes widened at your sugary words, comforting him even though he’d just hit you. He inhaled your scent, shaking hands slowly resting against your back, squeezing you close with blood still dripping from his scarred cheeks. “Shh... there, there sweetheart, I’ve got you, and I’m never going to let you go okay...? I love you, Dabeebee.”

Love.

Such a big word you throw around so carelessly with him. Hearing such words always made him feel warm and happy inside. Something he missed out on, and had never experienced until he met you. Your poor excuse to cheer him up worked only a little, when he mumbled out an insult. “You’re so fuckin’ stupid you know that? I’m honestly shocked you’re still alive and I haven’t incinerated you yet...” His meaningless insults warmed your heart, your Dabi was slowly coming back. You ignored the harsh stinging of your cheek and focused solely on Dabi, and making him feel better. His breathing was slowly calming down, sniffling and wiping the blood that leaked from his abused burnt up tear ducts. “Do you feel better, Dabeebee?”

“What a stupid question to ask.” He mumbled and pulled away, composing himself briefly before he stared at you longingly. His beautiful turquoise eyes linger to your cheek stained red and he felt his heart break all over again. “Fuck, I’m... fuck I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” Now that was a rare sight to see, the Dabi apologizing to you? The man who swore to take out the super human society, the man who taunts heroes and kills, apologizing to you? A lowly civilian with a mediocre quirk not good enough to be recognized by society. “This isn’t like you, Dabi... what’s wrong my love? Does it have something to do with your birthday?” He didn’t reply, turquoise eyes just staring down at the floor with a dull gleam. It answered your question as you continued. “I’m sorry... you should’ve told me.”

“Shut up you sweet-loving psycho. It happens every year... this year’s just especially worse.” The villain lowly mumbled as he embraced you. The house was silent for a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the wind rustling outside and the heater turning back and forth. He finally spoke up after his racing heart had calmed. “...I promise, I’ll tell you everything one day. Now isn’t the right time.” That sent a small pang to your heart, after 2 years of dating and he still didn’t open up to you about his past. But god did you still love him with all of your heart. He slowly pulled his blood soaked face away from you, touching the streaks of irony red that flowed from his patchy purple scars. The next thing you knew his eyes were locked with yours, staring intently as if you were the only thing in the world to him. “Just know I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’ll burn them alive and see them in hell to kick their ass again. You’re... the first person to ever see me this vulnerable. Be lucky.”

You smiled. “That’s my Dabi...” Once your lips locked gently with his, the night faded away. Dabi held you tightly in his arms, not wanting to let you go, not wanting to let you slip through his fingers. His heart was still eating him alive at what he had done to you. He had never loved anyone more than he loved you. No one else would’ve accepted him, stayed with him, appreciated his company, love the way he looked even though he hated himself, and loved him for who he was. You didn’t see the evil in his heart, only the pain and rage that wouldn’t stop surfacing.

He hated doing this to you.

The city was in a panic, all evacuated from the Dangerous parts that villains had raided. Dabi had made sure you were somewhere where no one could hurt you. He’d told you to visit your parents a bit farther in Japan, promising he’d return. Of course your protested with a pout, you always did. He loved that too, always wanting to spend time with him. The inky black drops of dye fell off his naturally red hair stained white. His turquoise eyes burned with rage and excitement as he stared down at the man who’d ruined his life. He thought back to you, how you were witnessing his confession, his pain in the television, learning his identity. It hurt to not be there to comfort you, but he needed to do this. He was just happy he’d told you before he ended everything. To finally have closure in his heart.

His staples burned again, blood slowly falling from his scared skin.

*static*

“Now that you all know the truth...” His eyes locked with the camera. “I love you (Y/N). My Sweet Lover.” A pure loving smile. “Ill see you again.”

*static*

[taendrils]

industrial (m.)

― ❝there are lines you shouldn’t cross, things you shouldn’t touch and skin you shouldn’t mark when your hands are missing your gloves.❞ 

• genre: fluff, smut • tags: piercer!reader, client!jungkook, smitten!jungkook, mentions of needles, inappropriate things you shouldn’t do with your piercer LMAO, koko is subby AND needy AND a sweetheart, also a bit of a brat, teasing, sexual tension, praise kink, dirty talk, messy handjob, grinding, aftercare • pairing: jungkook/female reader • wordcount: 8.1k words

PIERCER AU.

It’s human nature. Not having a care in the world for picture sceneries in favour of the mundane you’ve grown to adore—fixating on a sight, a scent, a story so much that is unnatural to go a day without it. Missing a sensation to the point it buries so deep behind your chest you can’t reach through your ribs anymore to prod at it. No, no, no. You have to be indulgent. Bad human nature. You have to relieve it.

Guilt about indulgence doesn’t pack the same punch when it comes to you. It’s easy to sink when you get to relieve it every day—ripping the seal to get your hands on the metal, taking your time presenting the needles, inhaling more of the isopropyl that lingers in the air when you pop open the disinfectant. Even from down low, the vapors float in tendril motions, enter deep only to sting right after. They are consistent—they move the same when you’re close to someone and you get to inhale again before piercing.

It’s pleasant, it makes you focus. It also should say something about you—whatever it might, you don’t blame yourself too much. Rubber feels good on your hand. It’s human nature.

People like things they shouldn’t. People like things that hurt.

The act itself reaches in a place that’s personal, and so does the background. It’s perfect, and it’s silent, and yet it keeps going. There’s music you don’t mind when the place fills out too much—you get restless when there’s a heavy break between people, like it is now. You love calming them down since the act mirrors the effect on you. It has been so long you assume it would create a crack in your persona if you voiced the restlessness out, if your tone reached any frequency other than that of relaxed. The tattoo place, along with your platinum piercer on the other side would eat you dare you break your composure—Yoongi would give the process the same attention he gives to his skin in ink. His tattoos speak for him more than the metal on his tongue dares, touching up to his neck and disappearing under his sleeves, and so does the dove under his ear.

You’re less marked, so people find fascination in other parts of you. Jungkook thinks he doesn’t have to dig deep, he sees their surface as soon as he walks into the parlour. He notices how each element of the hall is in harmony with another, the designs on the walls modern enough to light up innovation, the wood they’re framed by sculpted so they pay tribute to old school. The details hit him all at once, and a beat too late he realises he would have got lost in them, delayed his appointment in favour of marvelling, weren’t it for you waiting at the reception.

You’re leaning against the wall fit between two pictures in asymmetry, watching Yoongi who sits near the said desk with a girl. The piercer gestures towards the jewelry displayed, and Jungkook can make out a few bits of their conversation before his eyes drift towards you again. Soft classics play on the speakers, supported by the tap of your fingers on your thigh. A passive action, and then another.

The bell tingling doesn’t steal your attention from the focal point, instead walking up to join the pair at the desk, but Jungkook catches the black-haired man behind the counter turning in his direction and offering a warm smile.

“This yours?” you tilt your head towards the tattooed man.

Yoongi doesn’t take his eyes off the jewelry, just makes a noncommittal noise from the back of his throat.

“What’s she getting?”

“Two flats, opals.”

“Mm. Pretty stones for pretty girls,” you acknowledge with a smile the girl mirrors. “He has a lot of opinions, but don’t listen to him. If he’s one hair away from the place you suggest, tell me after and I’ll file a complaint, ok?”

The tension in her body eases, and you don’t miss the hints of the grin Yoongi suppresses as he shakes his head. “You need to stop before all my clients leave.”

“Rich from the guy who keeps telling them he’s a master of stabbing with pointy objects,” the same guy who noticed Jungkook tuts as he fixes Yoongi with an eyebrow.

“Jimin has a point. No one else at this hour for him to scare?”

“None for him. None for you either until one hour before closing–you have three then.” He fidgets a bit before the calm smile he’s been sporting turns devious. “Well, none except for him.”

Your eyes settle on him at last, and funny fact it is, how the brain gives so many commands to the muscles faster than the hundredth part of a millisecond, yet Jungkook’s body cannot form a single reaction.

“So you’re mine then, aren’t you?” You nod in appraisal before Jungkook can even stutter, bottom lip jutting out. He’s rendered speechless at the exchange since words weigh heavier on Jungkook’s tongue, and the process takes longer to finish. With strangers he’s careful, he pauses and drags out the sound long enough to avoid mistakes, similar to what you’re doing now when you are analysing him. He’s confident enough to guess how for you they seem easier–you speak as each sound floats on water, weightless before it drifts away.

The heaviness lies buried in how you watch, the same way an audience would as a play begins, attentive and searching for meaning in the deeper crevices of him. He regains access to his breath the moment you step away, hands working behind your back and words neutering some of the acid burning his loins.

“Unless you’re here for a tattoo. None of our artists can talk to you at the moment, they’re all caught up with appointments.”

You’re the only one to come closer to him, and that triggers Jungkook’s sense of self to search for an answer. He fights with it at the tip of his tongue, and he sees the way you’re waiting, staring. He pictures you hanging onto the silence, waiting for his words to continue the thread.

“Uh, no, I–I’m here for you. For the piercing.”

And his words, supposed to be picked with care, crumble under power that’s passive, getting Jungkook tangled in their meaning. 

You’re dressed casually, the clothes loose enough for the fit not to disturb you. He focuses on the smooth curve of your shoulder that has yet to be marked, the smallest trace of a collarbone hidden in the depths of your dark turtleneck. He’s gliding up without meaning to, so lost in details he doesn’t know where to look anymore.

“Alright. And you know what you want?” You don’t react until he nods and satisfaction seeps through the corners of the smile you’ve been fighting, his gaze the same level as the lifted corners that lead his gaze to your ears.

Maybe to the three hoops decorating your lobes, complemented by the little heart on the inside of your ear, or higher, where he sees the object of his desire in your right ear, a long silver bar that sits high on your ear, length pressed diagonally and ends adorned with metal spikes.

“Industrial,” he breathes out.

It’s hard to say what defines the pause taken. 

“Great. Please take your time and complete the form, okay?” Your hair is pulled up, revealing more hoops stacked on top of the other ear he gets to look better at as you turn around. “I’ll wait for you inside.”

Jungkook finds said form on Jimin’s desk. Less flustered, he listens to Jimin filling in the blanks. “We have a machine for sterilising jewelry. Takes around fifteen minutes, long enough for you to read through this and ask questions.”

Now that he has nothing to dote on, despite the sight Jimin is, Jungkook feels weirdly self-conscious as he waits, the reminder that you would have started by now if he made a move when he should have a constant in his mind. He fidgets, thighs squeezing together to distract his mind before the thought spills out, “Did I keep you guys for too long?”

“The appointment’s yours.” Jimin shrugs as he passes the papers. “First time at a studio?”

Jungkook thinks in retrospect at the lobes he did by himself when he was younger and still wearing his emo bangs–half rebellion, half need to appear cooler to his peers. He nods with his lips pursed tightly enough so they contain his embarrassment.

“There are lots to come by nowadays. You shouldn’t be worried, she’s very lithe and quick. Patient too.”

His heartbeat finds its steady rhythm and doesn’t suffocate him like it did before. It calms before it takes the leap into his stomach, when Jimin, whose gestures lack the innocence his face suggests, forgets to add:

“Talks like that to cute little things.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

Good, he swallows. You’re patient. He’ll keep that in mind.

A boy true to his word, a boy that keeps to his promises, Jungkook’s mind wraps up on the idea after signing the ink into the paper and as soon as he is near you.

“All done?” you ask with no hurry, and Jungkook hums as he sits on the piercing table, careful so he does not move the sheets of paper. “Good. Let me look at you?”

The coil in his stomach tightens so easily, he’s so easy to rile up and you’re not even doing anything. You’re not trying to. And that drives him a little crazy. Fantasies Jungkook has never dared to imagine with anyone he kept a professional relationship with stretch his mind open, and he’s open to them when more enter through the cracks he created.

“I need to see your ear, see if the fold’s right.”

He swallows as you come close, hands already gloved. Without missing a beat, he tilts his head to give you better access and doesn’t quite realise how long his hair got until you brush it away from his ear, fingers holding the strands in place. His lungs are still from the proximity, inhaling as much as they can take after you voice your approval. And the more he tries to detach from the situation, the more he dives headfirst into the fantasy. Jungkook feels you twist the ends and pin his hair aside.

The mind is a strange place.

“Don’t want you to get scared, alright?” you coo and this careful treading around him makes him dizzy, stirs in his loins, and the feeling presses deeper there, deeper and hotter than it should from the heat brought by Jimin’s words. “I’ll explain everything to you as we work, hmm?”

“Yeah, sure,” he speaks and is reminded this is his first attempt at conversation in a while. “I’d like that.”

It dawns upon him how to you he sounds willing, much too willing, and he blames it on eagerness. Besides willing, he’s much too aware of everything surrounding him, of every little sound in the quiet room. The tick of the clock is a nice diffused background noise as you check the form to the last detail. “Who did those then, Jungkook?”

Your prying is gentle, a puzzle piece taken from a waiting game that coaxes him out until his answer rises naturally. Of course you’d feel better if he talked. That much is obvious, and he is a fool, but that obvious matters less to him when he sees how pleased you are with your question. A look which he aspires to cause, which pulls his want deeper–a look he needs to see again.

“Uh, another studio. But I didn’t like it.” The explanation that follows comes out of his mouth at once.

“I had a friend, Namjoon,” he begins and takes note how your eyebrows raise and your gaze turns playful at his word choice. “I mean, have. He had his tongue pierced here, and I bugged him about it until he told me.”

The first truth.

“Was it recent?” you ask as you change the pair of gloves, tossing the used pair away.

“He got it done after his girlfriend, but he refused to tell me. I asked for a while.” His shame drifts away in tone with his ramble and he is bold enough to let his gaze fall down the curve of your waist.

“Namjoon, you said? Doesn’t ring a bell. Wish it did by your reaction though.” You turn back to him and his gaze snaps back up.

“Ah, he’s kinda hard to miss though.” His lips remain sealed, but the corners of his mouth rise as high as they can go. Jungkook doesn’t know how or why he’s still talking, but he can distinguish a tender amusement. “Tall, huge dimples and smiles like this.” He keeps the same smile until you acknowledge it, cheeks puffed up and lash lines surrounded by endearing creases.

You shake your head in endearment. “Stubborn, are you?”

“Texted him about it for weeks. Pestered him to tell me. Threatened to do them myself.” Half a truth. Sure, he did that too, but for the most part he whined about it, rattled him to Seokjin and sent messages with questionable emojis. Seeing his friends take the leap for an interest Jungkook spent days looking up, it flickered light back into Jungkook–a passion for something he thought he buried long ago. “I even unmuted the groupchat.”

He sees the effect of those texts in real time. All those ‘joonie hyungg 😊😊~’s were worth it because he earns a laugh from you.

“Glad you let me do my job. I will mark you now, okay?” There’s so much comfort in your conversation he almost forgets what he came here for. As the realisation comes, a sigh threatens to leave his lips. He’s not as worried about the pain as he is worried he’ll embarrass himself somehow. Jungkook is strong now, can handle pain better than the bunch of his hyungs combined, but it doesn’t make him any less self-conscious.

“You have to lie down for it.” You guide him through it, Jungkook lowering his body slowly after the lead of your palm. Maybe he did it wrong?

One dot, two dots. The time to obsess over it passes. On his left, the paper crumples under his fist and he hates the way it sounds, yet he grips the sheet like it is a lever holding him to reality.

“Everything okay?”

“Mhm,” he says, breathing out his bravery and focus. You mention something about titanium and how good it is for piercings in passing, or maybe you linger on it more. He retains nothing, just breathes in the alcohol. Your hands are delicate, and no matter how light your grip is, it seems assured.

Rubber feels good, so does your touch.

“Breathe in for me.” Eyes glossy and mind hazy, he tries his best to listen– “One, two, three, and out. You’re doing well.”

The sting is a lot more than he expected, and he feels the blood rushing to his ear, warm and muted. Everything is more. Its pain lingers, but so does the ghost of your touch, balancing the pleasure. Your voice is breathier, and it sounds closer than comfortable, so close that the warmth of your breath spreads across his skin and a tremor follows it along his spine. When his ear reddens, he hopes you assume it’s because of the piercing.

“There we go,” you whisper. “Halfway done. How’s that?”

“It’s good.” The lump in his throat doesn’t budge. If you notice how his voice trembles, you don’t mention it, and neither do you give him space to think. Your thumb and index massage circles over hard tissue, and he braces for what’s coming next. The fact that your movements do not change pushes against his wish to stay composed, and Jungkook barely suppresses the soft sighs tickling the roof of his mouth.

“Tell me when you’re ready.”

Jungkook sinks into it and nods in rhythm complimentary to your touch. “Read–oh.”

The sound he lets out you take in with a sharp inhale. Despite it, your next steps are smooth, bar settling in cozy in the tight space, but there’s a pause that extends past a few heartbeats where he grows more aware, more sensitive to the tips of your fingers. He feels them tremble as they screw in the ball–feels it tingle on his skin and past his gut.

“Don’t get up so fast,” Jungkook tries to listen, but he’s also impatient. It never dawns on him how close you might be until he’s half-up, propped on his elbows and overwhelmed by the clarity of your features. He is hung on the line that defines your cupid’s bow, and how foul his cravings are. He could run his finger across it–has a feeling you wouldn’t stop him. Driven by his boldness, he’s thinking of dropping his gaze lower. When he does, his heart pummels and a surge of anxiety has his eyes dart back to yours. The effect is cathartic, bits of his rationality falling down in chains.

His mouth drops open at what he finds, the pair of pupils dark and blown out. Less professional. More like you want to cross a line.

The reaction for when you break away is much slower, and your intention misses the mark as Jungkook teeth lightly scrape his lip. “Have you thought about more places?” you blurt out.

Jungkook’s mind goes to the place you’re staring. “My mouth.”

And he swears by anything he has you leave a shard of your composure right there and cut him open with it, reach into his flesh and tug. It’s bad, he shouldn’t let you, but he is good at observing. He has the experience, sees his own behaviours as patterns he’s picked from others. He is right about this. He is sure.

Yet he never expects you to confirm it, reaching out to drag your thumb across his bottom lip, moving in circles to trace the top as well before you come down again and press.

“It’s soft. Gentle.” you breathe out. “I like it.”

It’s gentle and it’s pliant cause his mouth opens more under the weight, and you’re reaching a tint deeper, nail getting dangerously close to his tongue.

“Makes–makes a good fit.”

Rubber feels good there too. He doesn’t mind the taste either.

“But your piercing–” you stutter and his eyebrows shoot up at how you get up all of a sudden only to return with a mirror, grip tight around its rim. Less relaxed. “Here. You should see it.”

You end up passing him the mirror and he gasps at the image, at the bar that’s sitting on his ear. Even with your previous position, excitement is impossible to contain. “I love it.” 

“Please tell your groupchat too,” you tease, part of the tension eased from your shoulders, obvious in the delight that surges through you at his words. He’s still peeking in the mirror, yet the reflection that steals his attention is the one of satisfaction in your smile. His satisfaction.

“I will. It’s amazing, really. I like it a lot,” he adds as if he hasn’t said enough.

“I’m glad. Can’t wait till Yoongi hears about this.” You’re busy with a Q-Tip he braces for a second too late, yet does nothing but obey when you ask him to stay still, then clean the piercing for the last time. The story continues. “He missed the angle last time. He’s gonna be so threatened.”

“Why did he miss?” Jungkook says, curiosity making him lean closer. His height was not something you cared for when he walked in, you note, but he’s hard to ignore now that he’s standing up. You give up trying to organise the items scattered on your table and wipe a hand across your forehead.

“Ah, well. He’s a bit... unorthodox, but gets the job done.”

“And what about you?”

You purse your lips as you muster the answer, unsure of the letters pouring out. “I... I like to play it safe.”

And safe you played, a bitter part of Jungkook would retort. But now that he’s opened the can, the curiosity about you reigns beyond his pettiness. His mind, an ocean on the road to regaining tranquility, has its waters disrupted when he poses questions about parts of you that interested him.

“Is it like that with the tattoos?”

“I do keep them safe.” By the speed of your reply, this is a frequent topic of conversation. Your words, however, match two puzzle pieces that share the same colour, but they don’t fit near the other. They’re jumbled together, corners forced and unnatural. His stomach burns regardless. So they’re hidden from display, bordering on personal.

Like him, you’re responding to questions reserved for people you have some sort of a relation with. The one with Jungkook is supposed to be inexistent. He’s a client, you’re a piercer, he remembers, as he fears to call you his piercer yet. Places where you might have ink pop up in his mind and replace the guidance of his conscience: neck, chest, stomach, thighs.

“Didn’t do the same for this one.” You point to the ear with the bar matching his. “Toughest to heal. Got it when I barely knew anything.”

The angle is not perfect like his, he can now see after the first glance.

“You like it a lot though.” He pouts, and it’s a statement he tests under his confusion.

“It’s one of my weaknesses. A fun memory.”

“So you didn’t do that always?”

Jungkook is a boy true to himself, but much too proud to admit things often. He has a goal, has found more means to the end he chases. Out of the possibilities, there are fairer choices, but all of those lead towards a path with chances and time he doesn’t have. Guilt eats at him about pressing, but his heart speaks over his brain.

“Didn’t do what?”

Jeon Jungkook doesn’t do things in halves–does his best and sweats hard for his aspiration. Thus, he’ll find time later to appeal to his conscience. The distance between you clears the fog out of his mind, his need clear. He cannot leave it like that, not with knowing you never attempted to shut him out.

“Play it safe?”

“No. But you… you shouldn’t.” You’re frowning, deep in thought, every second spent waiting pressing layers into both his hope and uncertainty–fighting a battle that your hesitation wins over whatever desire he thought you may have.“Here’s my number. Call me if you’re experiencing any troubles during the healing process and we’ll see what we can do.”

Distracted, you pass him a card he puts in his pocket. You continue on about the cleaning process and offer him options for where to buy them from as the part of him full of hope deflates, hates the reversion to nothing, hates it more than is considered normal. Whatever this was, he doesn’t want to lose it, but he respects you, sits and accepts. “Of course. Will I have to answer as many questions?”

“Ah–no, not really. I wanted you to be comfortable. I just saw...” There’s breath caught in your throat, lodged between the cracks in your calamity and assurance. You pant to let it out. “You’ve been looking at me.”

Hope is fragile yet devious. A parasitic entity that leads and bites off however much it likes from whoever it pleases. Even as he meant to give up, its last particle was left to grow.

“Yeah?” Jungkook is scared yet bold, the step he takes placing his boot on the line you’ve never dared to cross before. His eyes are big and there’s a glint that’s pleading to be noticed. “And if I call… you’ll take care of it?” He fears your answer, he fears how rushed he is, how much it means.

“I will. We’ll look at it once you come back to downsize the bar.” You try to soothe him, reaching to squeeze his shoulder. His shirt gets pulled a tint, and what you meant to do renders forgotten. The tips of your fingers are lured towards warm skin. Weak and indulgent, they dip under the cotton.

A brief contact and the intent changes. Your touch borders everywhere–a slow drag up the nape of his neck and down his front, fingers splaying out to cover more surface.

“Anything else?” he gulps, lost in the sight of your mouth.

“Don’t touch it. Don’t sleep on it.” Your hand rests over his throat, thumb brushing up and down his pulse point. “Promise you’ll listen?”

“Yeah, I’ll listen.” The admission is quiet, not risking to tear apart at the tension. With close he is to you, the words are breathy with his whisper. “I’ll listen to you.”

The mind is a very strange place. Curls around the impossible and tortures until you do something about it. It’s human nature.

Jungkook’s voice breaks with the last bit of bravery he has.

“I’ll do how you ask.”

“Fuck, Jungkook–” You leave your sentence unfinished because you’re way too busy with your lips on his, you’re kissing him, tongue licking into his mouth before you turn aggressive. There’s no second to wait, no moment to take for breath, his senses are overwhelmed from you gripping his jaw to bring him to your level. Jungkook can’t think, he just touches, makes it clear how much he likes it, nails digging into your sides. He brings you closer, tattooed hand fitting how you like it over your waist, needy and hurting your ribs from how tight you’re pressed against him, while the other slots over the nape of your neck, big enough to cover it whole.  

He clutches you as if you’re a silver lining in an open space, and there’s so much Jungkook all at once and everywhere around you. There’s electricity buzzing under your skin at the way he moans into the kiss when you bite his lip, pulling you back with him as leans against the drawer, thighs spreading for you to fit until you’re pressed flush against him. Your skin is so hot and you’re so drunk on need you’d peel the layers off and fit yourself into a piece of him, feel his moan reverberate through your being. You would, and you do.

When you break away, you don’t care, that’s what Jungkook registers. You’re nosing his neck, lips closing around a sweet spot under his ear. He winces from the sting, though it is short-lived. Another wave of arousal hits you exhale over the raw skin like the breath has been fucked out of you. He’s so sensitive there, and you don’t care to be gentle, don’t care to soothe the ache—you’re taking for yourself. It’s you being selfish.

His head spins so hard around the idea he has to hold onto you to stay on his feet.

Jungkook wants that, wants you to take. To ask. It thrills him how dangerous that notion is, what he would do.

There’s a soft sound you make right after you bite, a sigh that drips into his blood and travels straight to his dick. Faint cries of his name echo in an empty head, shake him to a blurry reality, paired with kisses under his jaw, on the mole that’s so close to his lip. “Jungkook, we can’t.”

With his inner voice gone, his head is empty and a beat too late he registers you’re speaking to him. He nods into your hair, chest rising and falling shallowly, again and again until he’s able to speak. He swears. Swears he understands but no part of him can do so, if you tell him to stop and yet coax him into giving in.

His neck is wet with traces of your lip balm. “Okay, okay, just—give me a second,”

“No, no—” Frantic, you cup his cheek and without thinking he leans into it, expression softening. Your thumb rubs circles onto the bone, caress it until you pry his eyes open, until he can look at you. “Not here.”

Before he can act, you lace his fingers with yours and lead him towards your bathroom, pull hard on the handle, and in your rush, you use the same force to press him into the door as it closes. Jungkook whines, shameless, hips bucking into you. In his high pitch you can capture the exact moment his last thread of sanity bids its goodbye, leaving him with putrid needs that shudder out of him like they do whenever he is close.

“God, look at you,” you whisper in wonder, latching to his mouth.

Cold runs up his arm and to his sides when you pin his wrist away, knuckles brushing against the tiles. The room’s dense, its width a fraction of the main hall. Its monochrome walls are closing in on the both of you, two specks of colour squeezed together in the tight space.

All at once, he’s hit with how good you smell, tinges of his cologne having rubbed off on you. A different aroma, one that’s sweet and masculine, pierces his senses with the same strength of an alcohol, but instead of focusing, it makes him hazy—hazy and restless. Even in his current state, he can more or less see the same effect on you.

Jungkook looks at you through strands of hair and dropped eyelids, head thrown against the door. “You like it?”

You grin, fingers hooking in the belt loops on his sides and use them to move his hips so his cock drags right into the space between your thighs. “Should I show you or let you guess?”

His hips work with more vigour, coil in his belly pulled too tight while you take your time reciprocating. The softest friction you give back is enough to have him gasping, dick hardening against you.

“You’re the one who seems to like this quite a lot,” You reach under his shirt to stress your point, molding your palms in the deep lines that define his abdomen. They explore, trailing higher until they brush against a nipple, the image of how a bar would fit there a dangerous addition in your head.

“Yeah,” He bites his lip, no point in not being honest now that you have him like this. “I do.”

Once you hear him, you grow more determined, hand closing high around his side and on his ribs. Next thing he knows you're back to his nipple, rolling your thumb over it, the stimulation too much too soon. Jungkook seeks to take your focus from it, but you don't relent.

“Are you sure this is okay?” he pouts before biting back a moan, “I wouldn't want to keep you.”

The moment you hear him, you laugh, fond and delirious—and press harder when you touch. “Yes, Jungkook, I do.”

If he had any walls left, he's sure you would have them crumble when you ask with your other hand hovering on the elastic of his boxers, “Do you?”

He nods, speaks from under his breath, “You have no idea.”

Mischief and anticipation dance in your irises, and when you smile, you do it with full teeth, every bit the bad wolf who's waiting to eat him up. You've chosen to prolong the said wait because instead of gripping, your finger branches out to trace the underside of his dick.

“You can’t do that to me,” he whines, soft voice murmuring pleas.

Jungkook’s torso, yet to be marked, is a pleasant path, one you’d cross again and again, warm and smooth and addicting—it takes most of your willpower to stop, staring him right in the eye with an eyebrow raised. “Can’t do what?”

“You shouldn’t touch me,” Meek and sincere, he lifts your chin and you freeze with your chest pressed against his. “Not if you want to tease.”

It’s a silent beg, because even if he missed being teased, he needs you. He’s so wound up he doesn’t think he can stand it, but he's still proud. Somewhat.

Your expression remains unreadable, but your actions speak loudest when you touch him skin on skin, hand sneaking under his boxers, and—oh.

He restrained himself the best he could when he had close to nothing, but now, with his head fallen back, he moans for you like he’s singing. The more you tighten your grip, the more his octave jumps over the classics you’d been so fond of.

“Careful, baby,” you tut as you spread the precum over his tip and use your body weight to still his shaking thighs. “You could hurt yourself.”

“S-sorry, ah—” he stutters, hand caught between the both of you, squeezing yours over the cotton of his sweatpants. “Feels good.”

He's not used to it, being the centre of attention, people putting lights too bright on him. Can't decide if he likes it or not, though it has him weak. His mind is on you, your time, your pleasure. On how he craves for you to feel him, needs you to feel good. On how he is going to make use of the semblance of control he hasn't given up yet to show you what you're doing to him.

So he does. He walks you back until your hips knock against the sink, pins you the side that is closest to him. Eagerness overcomes him at the impact, pulling at the hem of your shirt, and you cater to his wishes, letting him remove your top. With the layer peeled off, the scene is rougher and more intimate, secrets shared by the two of you tangled in this background, he sees them, lets them drive him crazy.

“How about this?”

It's such a delicate thing, how your bare shoulder connects with its reflection in the mirror. His gaze explores your body, landing on the upper parts covered in ink. Beginning at your sternum, a young lotus connects to a larger piece spread on the top of your torso, adorned with leaves and petals that bloom from its center. The thread between the flower and the full piece is so thin, his tongue would cover it whole.

It's the swell of your breasts that has him distracted and split between choices. But there’s something so primal about the object of his desire in front of him, and his made-up mind can't wait for encouragement, cupping them in wonder under your bra. Your gasp when he brushes against a nipple is so delicious he's the one who can't help himself, dipping his head to get a taste. He sucks like he's expecting praise, grinds more into you and he can't decide if the action is for you or himself.

“Jungkook, ah—” you groan, and the reaction stirs him up further. That mind of his which has been empty is quick to fill out with more than he can handle.

He'd drop down to his knees and crawl as long as you moaned and waited for him like that. He'd kiss and lick up the thigh that's pushing against his dick, hold it as he spread you open with his tongue. By nature, he's a pleaser, and thoughts like these are natural—as natural as those that keep coming, those about himself. They retell how easy it was for him to lose himself, far to the point of no return. A sweetheart in the face of sin.

It's almost laughable how gone he is and what it might say about him, about how down below he really belongs. Well, it's comfortable. He likes it down there.

Lower places are for those who lose, and Jungkook wouldn't mind losing to you, as long as he has a place down and a fighting chance.

He drops to his knees slowly, tongue dragging through the middle of your tattoo and down, kissing his way to the button of your jeans. In a snap, he pops them open, considers letting go, all doe eyes and messy waves that cover folded cartilage and stop right before a lobe marked by matching silver hoops, and now an industrial. Without thought, he catches the flimsy zipper in his mouth then drags it down where he said he belonged, holding onto the metal until the end. His arms flex under your thighs, gripping you tighter as he drops the zipper but not the eye contact. He has to be sure your eyes are on him when that playful glint takes over and his tongue flattens against the front of your jeans.

He's not bad for wanting it, is he?

Your fingers in his hair yank his head back, and oh, this one's different from the sting before—it spreads tingles across his scalp. “But I liked you this way…” He sulks, soft hair putty in your hand.

And he did, still does. Thighs on either side of his head, your face, breathless and grinning above, there's nothing wrong with this angle. “And here I was trying to take it slow.”

On his knees for you, it seems that now he finds the time to be a brat. “Your hands down my pants is slow now?”

You arch an eyebrow. “Lots of things you want to do, hm?”

Equal parts eager and shy, Jungkook nods, moving to lean on your thigh. You're fast to react, hand in his hair coming in between to protect his piercing. He nods with his head in your palm, noses along the inseam of your jeans.

“You just need to...let me.” His hand slithers under the soft flesh and splay on your ass to make his point. For the final dot, he feels for your back pockets, uses them as support to drag down the material until he can see your underwear.

“What about what I want?” you scoff when he's midway through pulling your pants down. “Aren't you being a little selfish?”

He's taken aback by your pout, your always-tender touch. “Uh—”

“You didn't sit to think about it, did you baby?” Wide eyes look up at you, a pang of strange guilt overcoming him. “Whether I want you like this?”

Jungkook wonders about the game you're playing. “I'm sorry—”

Habits force him to be polite, guide you to be patient.

“Poor little heart.” You caress his jaw, his mouth, and this time, his lips close around your finger. “Get up.”

He obeys but not without a fight inside him. Body to body, you soothe the frown off his face with kisses up his neck, paying attention to the noises he makes when you tug at his hair again.

“You looked so good before. Right here,” you whisper when he drops into the touch.

Praise relaxes him, opens up his every pore, pours heat straight to his gut. He knows. Yet part of him has yet to get over how you denied him, occurrence too rare for him to get used to it.

“It's less fun like that.” Jungkook's aware of how he sounds: like a little brat, petulant. As good as he is, it thrills him when he gets to act this way.

“Is it? Baby got a taste and now he can't get enough?” You're mocking but gentle, how he likes to be teased.

He did miss it: missed being teased, missed tearing up a bit.

“I didn't even have to ask to bring you to your knees.” You grip his hair tighter and he moves to the direction your reins are pulling. Ah, missed having his senses tortured. “So willing. So easy.”

“Yes—” he babbles, doesn't care for much when you handle him like that. Neither can he speak much, yet he is aware of everything, is sensitive to everything—shivers as your heel nudges his calf.

“I think it's more fun when you work for it, don't you agree,” You motion at his pants, and he scrambles to drop them to his knees for you stroke his cock, “there's thrill in the chase.”

How true that is. Jungkook aches for a chance to show to you how he is when there's chase involved.

“For you,” he says, tone flat and tired.

“Then it's not the case?”

He shakes his head, now bordering on a dangerous edge. Competition never hurt him. Neither did playing it safe, but he doesn't care to play it safe now that it's about you.

“For you, all for you—” he grabs your wrists and brings them down until you cup him with both hands, rocks his hips into the loose space. “Please let me do something.”

Or make me, is the sentence he leaves buried. More important for him is to hang tight onto your permission, yet hatred over not feeling needed threatens to swallow down his arousal and purge back anger. It's a twisted game he often plays, how long he can deny himself, how much he can hold before he snaps.

He's been close to snapping from the beginning, so out of his mind, he'd do anything you asked. Why weren't you asking? Jungkook would love for you to tell him how to make you a mess, say the word and he would be on his feet, down on his knees. He’s aware it paints a pretty picture when he does it.

Taking pity on him, you bring his hands down to your underwear and remove it together. It flies right past his ego—the immediate reaction is to reach for his own, but you stop him by shaking your head.

You peek down, shudder when you see how hard he is. “Leave them on. It's not safe.”

“Like this then?” Jungkook holds you spread for him as he drags his clothed cock over your clit. He's moving so slow he's shaking. There's so much desire which had to be buried down for him to keep to his word, to respect the promise that he'd listen. “Good?”

“Mm, good.” His chest swells with pride, and he gasps when he feels how wet you are, staining the material. Tentatively, he slides a finger in, then another, scissoring them inside. He goes deeper until he's sure they're coated, gathers the strings of arousal and brings them back to your clit. “That's it—”

The pressure is built with his thumb over your clit, careful and decisive the more you pick the volume. He'd muffle those noises with his mouth or make them louder with his tongue, yet he doesn't have the courage, thus he settles for your neck. It's a welcome distraction, a purpose that's holding him to earth when you're rocking back against him, the sight of you so desperate doing things to him.

“Fuck, you're leaving marks,” you whisper to yourself. It sounds holier, more like a revelation you have bare for him, with your hair messy and neck bit.

“I just. Need something to do, with—with my mouth.” He hurts through the seconds he takes to explain. Exists through his need. “Don't like it empty.”

A call of his name breaks the hold he had.

“If you want to be rough, you can.”

“What?” His head shoots up, confusion written across unfocused eyes. “W-Why?”

“I see you.” You swipe at hair matted over his forehead, mold your print in the drops of sweat laid over the veins in his neck. “And I want you to have it.”

Best case, Jungkook would need a few moments to process this, but you don't give him the pleasure. Every word is a shot fired on his self-control.

“I need you to feel good.” your voice is saccharine, its echo dripping in pleas through his bones. “That's what will make it better.”

“But then...” You're wrapping your thighs around his waist, letting him in. He has no idea what he's protesting.

That urge to suppress, that need, their noise is not yet muted—he hates how he's not done enough. Almost feels useless. But you need him for something else. Proof to his statement is the conviction attached to your request.

“You said you'll listen.” Although you don't mention his behaviour until now, implications hang heavy. “Why aren't you doing that when I tell you to do as you please?”

He's still lost, but now a new desire creeps up, whispering to him how nice it would be to obey. To stomp on his previous effort.

Too many sounds ring in his head, like radio static that shuts off when you press your forehead against his. “Be good, baby. Let go on me.”

Nice and sweet.

Jungkook listens and unravels before you. With rough drags of his cock against your pussy, you can't differentiate whether the mess on his boxers comes from you or him. He's messy yet mindful, angling up his thrusts, making the hit land right onto your clit, deep like he wants to fuck into you.

“Yes, yes—ngh—” This time it comes from him, but you're not far, with how you dig your nails into his muscles. Memories he'll feel for days, along with the strain it takes to keep the both of you upright. He speeds up as soon as you urge him to go faster, a toy on arches, flared up because of your request. Drifting away with the sensation, he almost loses footing when you whisper you're close.

Instead of hazy, the words are electric—he's more awake than he's ever been. Puts in so much work his bones rattle and lids screw shut when you cum, sounds so pretty and long they stretch out to rip his orgasm out of him.

Solemnly, his world quiets.

“You good, baby?” Serene, you massage the nape of his neck and let him cling to you until he can breathe again, “Gave me plenty to clean.”

Jungkook stares at the mess between your bodies before he's puffing out a laugh, “I could be better.”

You sit with him until he parts from you, then put your clothes back on. “Wait here, there's stuff in the cabinet that can help.”

“Hey...” you turn to him in question and he kisses you again. “Thank you.”

You return with the necessary supplies, handing him some wipes as you bend down to disinfect the sink. “It's not much, but it's not like I expected guys throwing themselves at me in my own shop.”

“I did not!” he puffs as he cleans himself up, winces from the sensitivity. “You just... well. Did that!”

“My job?” His eyes are wide and accusing, full of indignation. When you look back, he stares back as if challenged, ready to debate you. “I won't repeat the offense.”

Jungkook steps in front of you, confident and looming. “I'm not leaving until you admit.”

“I'll admit.” You nod, face brightening up as you tease him. “I was too good at my job and made you starstruck.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I'll be here all day.”

“There's security.”

“I'm strong.” His arms wrap around your waist for emphasis. You relax in his hold.

“I saw, big boy.” He's about to say something else but you're quick to cup his face and steal the words off his lips, tap at his pocket. “Hold onto this, okay? And call me if there's any trouble.”

Minutes after exiting, he has the gall to unmute his phone and sees the notifications pop; the top being a text from Namjoon in the groupchat sent over 20 minutes ago. 

that guy [4:16 p.m]: jsyk i respect your opinion but i'm putting this shit on mute if you mention anything about the PC version being better again

joonie hyung [4:50 p.m]: Jungkook?  joonie hyung [4:50 p.m]: Well? How did it go? 

Jungkook chuckles to himself, sitting on a nearby bench, mindful to the saline solution he bought from the front desk that’s now in his lap. Further contemplates the message as his fingers brush over the bobby pin still in his hair as a distraction from the piercing.

There is a bunch of nonsense that follows in the chat from Taehyung and Hoseok, but that's always easy to ignore–he blames it on the force of habit. The parlour's sign is a clear view diagonal from his position, background he sees fit for him at the moment. Jungkook angles his body so he's facing the opposite direction and snaps a picture of his reddened ear, careless to the rosy marks blooming right under. Your contact details are secure in his pocket, printed over the card you gave him, and despite how light they are, they bear the force to keep him grounded.  

Tapping the screen to quote Namjoon's reply, Jungkook keeps to his fashion: he's not the one for many words when it isn't needed.

He breaks into giggles. Thumbs up and peace sign emojis suffice.  

a/n: namjoon getting his tongue pierced is actually a reference to emma @.personawife’s fic piercings and piercer!yoongi is available over at @.yuengi in bad boys bring it to you which you should totally check out if u want more pierceverse! major thanks to lo for listening to me ramble about this cutie and helping me with the last bits of his character! • remember don’t get pierced with a gun OR a hoop and if you enjoyed please consider leaving a comment i’m starving and koko is not showing sleeve 

[rosiegeee]

Best Equestria Girls/Unconfirmed Couples in MLP

This is once again going to be a heavily biased list. I literally like all these ships the same except #10 but it would be a weird list to have a nine way tie. these couples were either only hinted at in the final season of My little pony, were in the comics, or were from Equestria Girls. They will be ranked on how much of a romance they seem to have.

#10:  Applejack and Rainbow Dash

There is nothing wrong with these two being a couple, as they are implied to be in the final episode of MLP, I just never shipped them and never found there was any romantic tension between the two, just friendship. The only romantic thing I can think of is from the scene the picture shows where they are friendly bickering about how Rainbow should be allowed to help Applejack with her farm chores.

#9:  King sombra and Radiant Hope

I love these two so much. Through flashbacks we see how these two met, were the best of friends growing up, and than Sombra falling in love with Hope. Even in his monsterous shadow pony form Sombra wants Hope to be his queen, and Hope still loves him, and when he is turned into a full pony they run off together side by side to explore Equestria finding Amore shards to restore her. Hope risked her safety and her freedom to save Sombra and there love oozes from the pages. However, the reason they are number 9 and not number 1 is because of Sombra’s treatment of her as a shadow pony. He emotionally manipulated her to stay by his side, screamed and yelled at her, threatened her, and kept her basically prisoner in the castle, he changes in the end but that doesn’t change what he did to her.

#8: Flash Sentry and Twilight Sparkle

They used to be my favourite ship when I was young, they were so cute and I found it funny seeing a blushing embarrassed Twilight, something the normal show didn’t have. However I was like 13 at the time when I watched this and Rainbow rocks for the first time, and have since seen some flaws here. There relationship is sweet in the first film and and you can tell how good of a guy Flash is, and Twilight returns these feeling, and the quick showing of them being at the dance together was adorable, but than Rainbow rocks happens. It is made clear to use that the entire time Twilight has been gone Flash has missed her(so cute) but from the show we know Twilight hasn’t thought or mentioned human Flash or pony Flash since, and continues not to think about him until she literally runs into him, and awkwardly the cuteness fades as Twilight no longer seems to know how to interact with him, which upsets Flash. Than as the sirens work there magic they become increasingly hostile towards each other and don’t really get a lot of screen time together for the rest of the movie, and than they literally never see each other again, but Flash still waits for her to return. In Everfree Forest he starts to move on.

#7: Curly Winds and Wiz Kid

I don’t know enough about these two to give them a true ranking so they get this neutral spot, but from the images above I’d say they are a pretty sweet couple. And Being LGBT, I always love representation in tv shows.

#6:  Timber Spruce and Sci-Twi

Sci-Twi was never meant for Flash Sentry, and I’m glad they did not get together, but Timber and Sci-Twi is a different story. He was so sweet to her, and there chemistry seemed natural, and he actually asked her out, something Flash never did, that and the almost kiss. This Twilights reaction to having a crush is different from Princess Twilights, and I love how well she gets along with him. The only reason they are not higher is because he was covering for his sister who planned on doing dangerous and illegal things. That and she’s in high school and he is an unmentioned amount years older who seems to have done this camp at least once before so it could be anywhere from a year difference to six.

#5: Yona and Sandbar

Oh my god, they are so cute. The episode that first shows hints of a romance between these two is also one of my favourites because Yona is worried that the Pony’s attending the dance (aka Sand Bar who is the one who invited her) will judge her because she does not look, act, or dance like a pony(because she’s a Yak) and she tries to make herself more pony only to make a fool of herself and mess up the dance. However when she runs off Sandbar finds her and comforts her and tells her that he liked her for being herself and that he doesn’t care that she is a yak. He than asks her back to the dance where they spend the rest of the night together. Also they are seen holding hoofs in the big fight at the end, and are seeming living together at  Carousel Boutique.

#4: Hoofbeard and Jewel 

If you didn’t read the IDW comics you would never know these two, but the mane six go on an adventure with Captain Hoofbeard and try and find his treasured Jewel, but the X on the map keeps moving, in the end its revealed that Jewel isn’t a gem, but a seapony and an old girlfriend of Hoofbeard. He confesses that he still loves her and wishes they could be together but knows that she breaths water and he breaths air, but Twilight uses a spell that gives him gills and some fins. He traveled the ocean, like how Cranky Donkey traveled the land, to find his love again, and faced many dangers to do so.

#3:  Fluttershy and Discord

I always thought these two should stay friends, especially considering he’s immortal ad she isn’t, but in the later seasons it was impossible to deny the romance forming between the two. Discord loves Fluttershy and gets giddy anytime he thinks about her and has pictures of her, and they have tea parties(dates) every week. For Fluttershy she knows Discord like the back of her hoof and is deeply hurt when he sort of betrays the group in the finally, but before that Angel(her bunny who knows everything about her) while in Fluttershy’s body stated how it was Fluttershy’s wish to MARRY DISCORD. In the finally Discord drops Fluttershy at Twilights and gives her a lunch, implying that they live together and during Fluttershy’s part of the song The Magic Of Friendship Grows, as she sings the line, “And because the love that I feel, For every single living creature is something that is real , Friendship happens so naturally ” Discord comes out of a portal and they stare at each other and se extends her wing out to him as he flies just off screen. The writers say there relationship is up to the viewers interpretation, but they are obviously in love and married by the end. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ImsTS1Kb9ww

#2:  Flash sentry and Sunset Shimmer

Here’s where the bias comes in. In the first film its said how these two used to be a couple but that they broke up not long before the series because of how bad she used to be, and than its never mentioned again until Everfree where Flash and Sunset have a momment where they confide in each other because they still know each other in ways the other main characters don’t know her. Flash even asks her if she’d like to start over, than awkwardly adds the friends part but its obvious hw they look at each other that there is still a spark there and it will most likely be rekindled soon. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VI5lTaUahfU

#1:  King Sombra and Princess Celestia

This was the Romeo and Juliet is Romeo and Juliet where literally from other worlds and actually loved each other. This comic pulled at my heartstrings so much that I could never look at Sombra in the TV show the same way again. In this four part series its revealed that before Luna even became Nightmare moon Celestia had been visiting this other Equestria where its ruled by a kind Sombra and the two fell in love and have secretly been visiting each other on and off since. But there travels is ripping the barrier between the two world apart so they can’t see each other as often. In the end Sombra restores the barrier, saving both there worlds, by sacrificing himself by absorbing the evil of the alternate versions of Luna and Celestia, becoming just like Sombra in Celestia’s world. His final act is telling Celestia to leave him(So he won’t do anything he’d regret to her) than on the final page Celestia alone says how much she still loves him, and in his own dimension, despite being evil, admits how he still loves her as well. In the end they are never allowed to see each other again, but there love still transcends dimensional boarders. 

[megashadowdragon]

Warning: this theory contains HEAVY SPOILERS! If you’re not fully caught up with the manga, read at your own risk.

Since English isn’t my first language, I apologize in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes. Also, this is my first time posting.

It’s practically obvious to everyone that we will get a Kaido flashback in this arc, whether he dies or not: of course, there will be a part about his time in the Rocks Pirates, but we will also get to know possibly one of the most important people for him: his wife.

Because, let’s face it, Oda hasn’t done much yet to give his personality some depth and not being just an arrogant, cruel, child-beating antagonist with a penchant for alcohol and an obsession for death, and a figure such a woman he loved could be a great opportunity for doing so.

Some might speculate that she’s actually dead and that’s why Kaido started drinking.

It could be true but, knowing Oda, he would never introduce a deceased character of that importance out of the blue, without some sort of foreshadowing: a well-kept grave located in a secret place where an important character stumbles upon in the Onigashima raid (on screen, obviously), a framed portrait on a desk or a wall, a name seemingly being thrown offhandedly in a conversation… but there is nothing in Wano which even remotely resembles one of those things.

Therefore, she must be alive.

(Also, there are already too much fundamental figures in various characters’ history who ended up dead in flashbacks, such as Bellemere, Rocinante, Russian and so on. Come on, Oda.)

Is she going to be someone new, at least?

Well, that’s a possibility, however in next arc(s) new characters will be introduced and One Piece has got more than a thousand of them already… quite a lot, aren’t they? Consequently, there is a very good chance for her to be someone who has been already introduced into the story.

Of course, there must have been some sort of foreshadowing when she had been introduced, too: she was the lover of a Yonko, after all. Has there been a woman with an unknown lover in the past arcs?

Yes, actually.

It was her:

And I believe that the mysterious man she fell in love with was none other than Kaido himself. But wait, there’s more: Gloriosa has also eaten a Devil Fruit. An extremely powerful one.

Don’t worry, I will explain everything on the way. Now, hold onto your seat, because this will be quite the long ride.

Kaido and Gloriosa comparison

Kaido of the Beasts, Governor General of the Beasts Pirates, one of the Four Emperors, the Strongest Being in the world and Gloriosa, a former Kuja ruler. These two may have little to nothing in common... or have they?

Probably the most striking difference between them is their respective height: while Kaido easily dwarfs normal humans, Gloriosa is shorter than Luffy; however, both of their heights are currently not canonically stated.

Unstated as both of their ages are, although it’s clear that both of them are past their younger days: in Gloriosa this is highlighted by her grey hair and wrinkled face, but it’s clear that Kaido is not that young any more, too, having crow’s feet under his eyes and forehead lines. It is likely that these two are quite close in age, actually.

A notably interesting fact is, canon heights and ages of the various characters, along with things such as their favourite food, are revealed in the SBS corner in manga volumes. And yet, not even one of these little pieces of information has been revealed for both Kaido and Gloriosa.

It’s very unlikely that nobody has ever sent these question to Oda, or that the latter forgot to answer them; given the importance of the two characters in the arc where they have appeared, there must be a very specific reason why Oda didn’t tell us a thing. More than that, when Gloriosa talked about her Love Sickness in chapter 522, there was no flashback; not even silhouettes.

With these things and questions on mind, let’s move on to their position. Kaido is now an Emperor of the Sea, and Gloriosa was an Empress of the Kuja. Also, while Gloriosa was an Empress Kaido held no particular position, except by maybe being a pirate captain; and now the tables have turned, Kaido being an Emperor and Gloriosa being a nobody. A neat little parallel, isn’t it?

Now, let’s get to their Haki usage and knowledge: Gloriosa seems to have some knowledge about how it works and the characteristics of the people who are able to use the various Colours: in fact, in chapter 521 she comments about Luffy’s Haki, surprised by how he willingly bowed his head to Hancock to help those who saved him instead of a boat to leave the island without a second thought. She is not a confirmed user of any form of Haki; however, in a place where pretty much every powerful warrior can use at least Observation and Armament, it is hinted she is a wielder of these two colours at least and, since she used to be an Empress, there is also a chance she can use Conqueror’s, too. Kaido is a confirmed Observation, Armament and Conqueror user, and also one of the very few people, as he himself stated in chapter 1010, who can make the latter colour flowing through their body and coat their weapon(s). In the very same chapter, he also recognized Zoro’s illusions while performing Ashura as a manifestation of Conqueror’s Haki, revealing his in-depth knowledge about the subject.

Last but certainly not least... their strength. Kaido one-shot Luffy in Gear Fourth despite the Emperor being so drunk he could not stand on his feet properly; also, he was able to clash against a fellow Yonko for days and tanked pretty much both all the Scabbard’s hits and the majority of the Supernova’s attacks on the rooftop. Moreover, how can his absolutely epic introduction not be taken into account? He fell from a Sky Island literally 10000 metres above the sea level and he ended up with... a strong headache. I’ll tell you what: Gloriosa fell from a great height, too! In addiction to it, she landed without suffering any serious consequences, as shown in chapter 517, where she landed on her feet seemingly undamaged after Hancock quite literally threw her out of the Kuja Castle. As Gloriosa herself said, she might have grown old, but she is still a Kuja warrior. Also, being a former ruler where strength is beauty, she undoubtedly was a force to be reckoned with in her prime.

That being said*... Maybe they’re not so different, after all, huh?*

Mythology references

One Piece has loads of references to Japanese myths and folklore, however Wano is especially loaded with these; and how could it not be? It is inspired by Japan, after all.

Moreover, since Kaido can transform into a dragon, there must be some kind of reference to Japanese myths and legends regarding these legendary creatures.

There’s one in particular, which might be the key to Kaido’s backstory: the story of the Enoshima Dragon.

According to this myth, in the mountains near the Koshigoe village lived a five-headed dragon, called Gozuryu, who terrorized the inhabitants over a period of some-thousand years by provoking countless natural disasters such as huge storms, floods and earthquakes, as well as eating their children. The villagers kept praying and praying, until something happened: in 31st May, 552 AD, during a bigger and more violent storm than the usual, the clouds split in two and a rock began to emerge from the sea. A beautiful woman descended from a ray of light where the clouds slit and sat foot on the island just created, making it her home. The dragon, who assisted to the whole thing, immediately fell in love with her and asked her to marry him.

The woman, who was perfectly aware of the dragon’s evil actions, was none other than the goddess Benzaiten herself.

Benzaiten on a white dragon

Now, there are two versions of how the story ends: in one, the goddess turned him down at first, and told the dragon she would have considered his proposal only if he helped the people he used to terrorise. Gozuryu accepted and the village prospered thanks to their dual protection; in the end, the goddess agreed to marry him and the couple lived happily until the dragon met his demise. In the other version, Benzaiten straight up refused Gozuryu’s proposal due to his evil actions; ashamed for his wrongdoings, the dragon promised the goddess he would have never disturbed the village again, and retired in the mountains where he died of guilt.

Anyway, regardless of how the story goes, when the dragon died he fused with the land of Kamakura, creating the Dragon’s Mouth hill (Japanese: Tatsu no kuchi yama) facing south, the direction of the island where his beloved lived. Needless to say, the island of the myth is Enoshima.

The comparison between Kaido and Gozuryu is immediate: both are extremely cruel towards children, with the former having no qualms beating them, even his own, and the latter eating them. Moreover, the Emperor, much like the five-headed dragon, terrorizes the inhabitants of the place near where he lives (Wano Country and Koshigoe Village respectively) turning the land into completely inhabitable wasteland in the process, and is capable of causing huge storms; his apparition in chapter 921 is also being accompanied by a thunderstorm. Note that, in Chapter 1003, Zoro states that fighting Kaido was like “facing a natural disaster”, much like the natural catastrophes Gozuryu caused.

Now, let’s talk about Benzaiten.

Goddess of water (especially rivers), eloquence, and good fortune, Benzaiten is considered one of the protector deities of Japan, where she’s one of the most beloved and revered gods: every major city has at least one place for her worship and countless temples and shrines dedicated to her cult are present in many other areas across the country, all located near water sources such as rivers, ponds, lakes or even in the sea. She is part of Japan’s Seven Lucky Gods, and she’s the only woman among them.

Benzaiten, however, is not originally Japanese: she is in fact a syncretic deity derived from the Hindu goddess Saraswati whose cult was brought to Japan by Buddhist monks who arrived in the VII century from China.

Due to her extreme complexity, only the most relevant facts to this theory will be reported.

She wasn’t very popular until the XI century, when her cult was fused with Ugajin’s, an obscure Japanese Kami of water, agriculture and good fortune, often represented as an old man with a snake body. Once this happened, her popularity skyrocketed as a goddess of water and by assonance ‘of everything that flows’: rivers, eloquence, knowledge, music, art and Haki. Even nowadays, Uga Benzaiten, the goddess with Ugajin on her head, is one of the most common Benzaiten representations.

Both lived in an island inhabited only by women: Gloriosa in Amazon Lily, and Benzaiten in Enoshima, since she was the sole inhabitant of said island and also a woman;

Benzaiten originated from an Indian goddess and Gloriosas, the flowers which Gloriosa was named after, grow in India too! Gloriosa superba is even Tamil Nadu’s national flower.

Due to being goddess of water, Benzaiten was naturally associated with animals connected with said element: snakes, turtles… and dragons. Especially the white ones, since this colour is linked with water in Japanese culture.

Snakes are a big part of Amazon Lily’s culture: almost every warrior on the island has her own Snake Weapon which can be used as a bow, the island’s dome is sculpted with snake motifs, the Perfume Yuda, Kuja Pirates’ flagship, is carried by two Yuda snakes, even Kuja, the name of the tribe, means ‘Nine snakes’

White snakes were considered to be Benzaiten’s main messengers and avatars and Gloriosa in Share the World opening appeared with a blue top and*...* a white snake.

Also, the traditional representation of the Black Warrior is a turtle intertwined with a snake, much like Kujas with their Snake Weapon. Due to these facts, I believe that Gloriosa has eaten the Mythical Zoan Kame Kame no Mi model: Genbu.

Timeline and character analysis – a PERSONAL take on what could have happened and when (and why)

For this section, other than time markings scattered throughout the story, Momonosuke’s (biological 8 – actual 28), Yamato’s (28), and Hancock’s (31) ages will also be taken into account for comparison.

It is known that the Rocks Pirates were defeated and subsequently disbanded 38 years before the current time. Also, Kaido was captured, and presumably sentenced to jail, eighteen times; given his reputation and danger, it’s pretty safe to assume that at least one of those nine prison ships he sunk was directed to Impel Down.

Impel Down is actually not that far from Amazon Lily: the journey takes one sailing week with an average ship, while Marine ones can make it in just four days, about half the time, because of the reserved currents. In my opinion, it makes sense thinking that Kaido has sunk a prison ship in the Paradise and somehow ended up in Amazon Lily.

Now, everyone here knows the supreme rule of the Island of Women:

NO. MEN. ALLOWED.

For any reasons.

So, by the laws of the island, he was imprisoned and, just like Luffy, was sentenced to death. But, like the latter pirate did, Kaido defeated/broke/knocked unconscious all the animal/things commonly used for executions on the island, therefore the Empress finally decided to take the matter into her own hands.

I believe the Kuja Empress at the time was Gloriosa. Why?

Well, it was stated that 33 years ago the remnants of the Rocks Pirates sent off to found their own crews, and probably Kaido arrived in Amazon Lily even earlier, between 38 and 33 years ago. As Hancock stated, Gloriosa is actually the former-former-former empress of Amazon Lily: this means that there were two Empresses between her and Hancock; since the latter is stated to have become Empress at the age of 18, 13 years ago, and given that the other two unnamed Empresses died of Love Sickness which probably is more likely to strike the unlucky rulers at a fairly young age, 20-25 years are more than enough for two Empresses to have reigned.

To estimate her actual force at the time, let’s analyse her name a bit.

Like all Kujas, Gloriosa is named after a flower (or a genus of those): Gloriosa is a genus of 12 flower species, widely spread in areas of the world such as Africa, the Arabic Peninsula and tropical parts of Asia. It can reach 3 metres in height and they display showy, vibrant-colored flowers with distinctively shaped petals, earning them the nickname of fire lily.

So, the question arises spontaneously: why is this short, wrinkly old woman named after one of the most beautiful (and tallest) flowers in the world? Given Oda’s attention even for the tiniest details, I highly doubt he chose this name randomly; at least, not for her.

Either she’s a grotesque parody of her own name… or it could be a foreshadow.

Gloriosa is also the Italian, Spanish, Portuguese and Catalan word meaning ‘glorious’, if the subject it’s related to is feminine and singular. A truly fitting name for a ruler and the wife of a Yonko, isn’t it? And Kaido want his death to be… glorious.

Maybe Gloriosa in her prime was actually even more beautiful and stronger than the current Hancock, to the point where nobody had ever beaten her in combat.

Anyway, you know how the saying goes: if it’s one on one, always bet on Kaido.

Therefore, Gloriosa was defeated for the first time. By a man.

Hancock’s case probably gives us how Empresses fall ill with Love Sickness: it happens when a man catches them off guard by behaving in a totally and positively unexpected way, defying all the previous experiences the rulers have. Hancock fell in love with Luffy because he showed her kindness and didn’t judge her when she told him about her past; Gloriosa got Love Sickness because she fell in love with Kaido for his strength.

Because love… is always like a Dragon Twister hurricane!

How about Kaido?

It is common knowledge that he respects physical strength, even in his enemies.

That’s probably why he joined the Rocks Pirates in the first place: out of respect for Rocks D. Xebec, because he was actually the first person ever to defeat him in combat.

Just like Zoro with Kuina, or Douglas Bullet with Gol D. Roger (in the Stampede movie).

Gloriosa may have not defeated him in combat, but she surely gave him a very good run for his money, maybe she almost won. And he respected her for that, to the point where he actually accepted to leave Amazon Lily, even if he won. He stayed there for a little more, while a ship for him to sail the sea was being prepared, and lived peacefully (meaning: extensively touched and examined) with the Kujas.; what are the chances that one of his favourite (or least) foods is actually penne with Gorgonzola and Sea King’s meat, the island’s culinary speciality?

When he sat sail, he probably found out that the Empress snuck aboard his ship when he was far away from the island already. He thought of bringing her back, but, after listening to her reasons, he decided to let her stay with him because, let’s face it, Kaido is not Luffy, he actually appreciates the company of women.

The most beautiful woman in the world fell in love with him and contracted a mysterious illness which would have killed her if she didn’t go with him and follow him anywhere?

Oh no! /s

I’ll tell you what, I don’t think that Kaido was actually in love with her at first that much. He surely enjoyed spending passionate nights with her, and was amused by her curiosity due to Gloriosa knowing little to nothing about the external world.

There was a specific moment when he actually fell in love with her.

Have you noticed that, despite being often shirtless, Kaido's back is never fully uncovered even in his dragon form? He always wears a coat, a shirt, or both.

That hints that Kaido has some kind of mark on his back he wants to hide from public view, just like the Gorgon Sisters. Something must have happened that made him show her said mark, maybe Gloriosa caught a glimpse and asked him to see it. Anyway, Kaido was reclutant at first, but she had the right to know, she was his wife after all.

So he showed it to her, in a way that, when it will be shown in the flashback, might be a callback to when Hancock showed Luffy the Celestial Dragon hoof.

That mark meant that for the world he had and would always have been something inhuman, a failed experiment, a monster; even Big Mom, who has the best spy network in the world, calls him a 'thing'. But Gloriosa didn’t judge him for said mark, nor she believed he was a monster. For Gloriosa, he was just Kaido, the man who she had fallen in love with.

That's when Kaido fell for her. And he fell hard, probably to the point of no return.

At some point, the two conceived a child, and that's when Kaido decided that it was time to move to Wano instead of travelling the world: the pirate life is dangerous for grown people let alone for a child, plus he was one of the most wanted men by the World Government, meaning the child was in danger simply by existing.

But how did Kaido know about Wano?

He probably heard something about the Continent Puller and the ‘country’ he formed about 600 years before but, since it was a closed nation, he probably didn’t know much more until he met someone who escaped from said island: Kurozumi Higurashi.

41 years ago, she told Orochi that she fled the country because of the persecutions against the Kurozumi clan, and because she knew nothing about the outside world, joining pirates was the easier choice. Also, in that way she could have found allies and power for the Kurozumi cause easier.

The Mane Mane no Mi allows the user to create a perfect copy of a person whose face has been touched. She transformed in a woman, who, judging by the color scheme in the anime, is heavily hinted to be Bakkin and a young Shiki, both known members of the Rocks Pirates, so Higurashi may have traveled with said crew for a while. There she met Kaido, who she sensed he could have been a great help for the Kurozumis: big, powerful, and stupid, easy to manipulate.

A closed off country not part of the World Government: a perfect nation for Kaido to reside to ensure the safety of his family (mainly his child, because Gloriosa was more than capable of defending herself) and to use as a base for his operations.

When Oden went with Whitebeard 29 years ago, there were no factories in Wano, but they were there when Toki arrived in Wano with Momonosuke, who was 3 at the time, and Hiyori; so Kaido must have arrived in Wano three years earlier at last.

Gloriosa may not have been the Kuja Empress anymore, but had everything a woman like her could ask for: she was one of the heads of a soon to be powerful army, plus a devoted, loving husband and a child.

Why did she leave it all behind?

I have already talked about the parallels between Gloriosa and turtles in the mythology section, but here’s another one: in Chinese culture, turtle (especially turtle egg) is a very serious insult regarding the morality of one’s mother; that’s why Genbu is called Black Warrior instead of Black Tortoise.

This also expands one of Wano’s most prominent themes: betrayal.

Gloriosa was forced to leave Wano and Yamato behind because she cheated on Kaido. But with who?

Well, the Beast Pirates follow a card games and decks naming theme, and currently there is none named Ace; also, when Oden faced Kaido, Jack was only 8, so my hypothesis is that the third Calamity before him was called Ace. He probably had a crush on Gloriosa and when she went to him for comfort while Kaido was away, probably out to recruit subordinates or captured, he couldn’t resist.

But Kaido caught the two in the act, and was absolutely furious.

He killed Ace, and his position remained vacant for quite some time, until Jack finally took his place in the Calamities; that's why, in Episode 972, there were only King and Queen along with the fodder.

However, Kaido couldn't bring himself to kill his wife personally, so he offered her a choice: be dispatched by the hands of King or Queen, or leave and never return.

Gloriosa chose the second option.

She packed her things and left, only to realize she had nowhere to go: Wano obviously was not an option, but she couldn't just go back to Amazon Lily, not after she betrayed Kujas by abandoning them while she was an Empress. Plus, as a pirate, she was wanted by the Marine. So she lived on the run, continuously assuming new identities and never staying in the same place for too long.

Also, Love Sickness certainly has played its role in weakening her, making her age faster and dramatically decreasing her height in the process.

Taking a look at Hancock’s bed, it’s decisiverly oversized for her: said bed could comfortably fit a laid Boa Hancock together with her Snake Weapon, which is way larger than the others, her sisters, the doctor and Gloriosa, and still have room left for someone else to stand on it.

It is very likely that this bed was the Empress’s for a long time, and, since that position is not inherited, it had to fit Kujas of all sizes. So Gloriosa could have been taller in her youth, maybe a little shorter than Kaido, but still enough to handle him.

Anyway, Gloriosa managed to survive through sheer willpower, the same that allows her to snap out of Hancock’s charm much faster than the others, until her feelings for Kaido eventually faded away, thus healing from said illness.

When she finally arrived to Sabaody Archipelago, at least fifteen years ago, she was unrecognisable. Coincidentally, Shakky's Rip-Off bar was searching for new waiters, and Gloriosa applied because she needed money. The former pirate immediately recognised her.

How is that possible? Feminine intuition!

In chapter 591, she correctly predicted that Hancock would became smitten with Luffy despite not seeing her for thirteen years and every evidence in Hancock's behaviour pointing out the contrary. (Also in the very same chapter Hancock asks Gloriosa how to have a proper marriage while surrounded by monkeys wearing Wano's typical hat. Let that sink in).

Shakky understood that Kaido had no interest in her anymore and let her stay with her and Rayleigh, until the Boa sisters arrived and Gloriosa could finally return to Amazon Lily with the excuse of bringing them back home.

On the other hand, Kaido was devastated, to say the least.

Can you blame him? His beloved wife was cheating on him with one of his most trusted subordinates. He needed to forget, to get rid of all those negative feelings overwhelming him: that's why he started drinking.

However, Kaido isn't stupid. Okay, he may not be as smart as Benn Beckman, the most intelligent person introduced in the East Blue arc, but he surely has some brains: you don't reach and mantain high positions within a crew without some smarts, let alone being an Emperor of the Sea. Kaido soon realised that he caught the two relatively easily. Too easily.

Almost if they wanted to get caught in the act.

While Kaido was drinking his sorrow away, someone else was toasting to a risky plan gone smoothly.

The Kurozumi clan.

Higurashi may have lured Kaido into Wano and the alliance with the Kurozumi, but she didn’t predict that he would have arrived with a wife and a child. Gloriosa probably had a great influence on Kaido, who was (and maybe is still) regarded as little more than a muscle head; and the Kurozumis were actually afraid that she may have been plotting something. This impression was confirmed by the Onibanshu who spied the two pirates: probably Gloriosa wasn't happy about the shogun and suggested her husband some ways to dethronate him.

She was a threat, and they needed to get rid of her as soon as possible.

They sensed that one of Kaido’s top subordinates had feelings for Gloriosa, and they decided to use this fact to their advantage. So Higurashi transformed using her Devil Fruit powers and seduced the crew’s Ace, in a time and a place where she was sure Kaido could see them, while someone else distracted Gloriosa. In the end, everything went according to plan.

However, when Kaido saw the old hag using her powers some time after, he understood everything. But he had no concrete proofs, and certainly wasn't in the position to kill someone so important to his pawn based only on simple suspects; so he waited, until the perfect moment arrived.

Meanwhile, Kaido kept drinking, to forget his actions and to numb his guilt. At first, a little quantity of alcohol did the trick, but eventually he needed more and more, slowly falling into addiction.

You know, Gloriosas’ beauty is only matched by their toxicity: as proud members of the Colchicaceae family, they contain colchicine, a powerful metabolic toxin; all parts of these plants can be fatal if eaten, even a simple touch can cause skin irritation. Due to this, Gloriosa superba has been used for centuries to commit suicide.

Just like colchicine corrodes the body, alcohol, together with shame, guilt and anger, slowly eroded Kaido’s soul, corrupting him from within.

While Kaido's original plan for Wano was simply to make the island his operational base, after all that happened he decided to destroy and utterly annihililate it, just like Orochi destroyed his happiness. The shogun was fine with his ally’s devastations and never suspected that Kaido knew. The latter made Orochi believe he wouldn’t touch the Flower Capital, just to completely erase it from the face of Earth once his army would have been powerful enough to fight an all-out war. Revenge is a dish best served cold and then smashed on the forehead.

The rest is history.

Surely Kaido will be defeated, but he will not be completely dealt with in this arc.

Yamato probably got their kind, selfless nature from Gloriosa. The latter would have never approved of the terms of Kaido’s promise to Oden, let alone all the hostages and atrocities done by her husband; since Oden began to dance naked in the streets 25 years ago, probably Gloriosa was already gone at that time.

Because of this, Yamato has little to no memories of their mother, so they will likely ask Kaido about her at the end of the battle. However, Kaido himself doesn’t know her whereabouts because he didn’t send spies after her; at first, because he didn’t care about her anymore. When he realised his mistake, he still didn’t search for her because otherwise it would have shown that she was still important to him. He is not naive, he knows there are spies in his ranks, even at high levels; therefore he wants to avoid attracting unwanted attentions to her.

Plus, Kaido doesn’t even want to know, because Gloriosa probably is dead or has found another person to be with; and he deep down knows that those news would definitely break him.

However, there’s one little detail: Gloriosa’s speech quirk-nyon. Even if her appearance has changed quite a bit, she surely did nyot change her way of talking. Luffy would probably understand Kaido is talking about her because of this, and will tell them that she’s alive and well in Amazon Lily.

It is a known fact that our protagonist either kills the villains’ dreams or changes them: Kaido will change his goal too. He wouldn’t want to die yet, he will probably want to meet Gloriosa again to apologize properly for what he had done to her.

Thus, he will survive the battle and somehow, after almost thirty years, Kaido and Gloriosa will meet again.

Will Gloriosa forgive him? Will she not?

Only Oda will tell.

Other references

Black Maria Many people actually believe she’s a Kuja, and I admit, they have pretty good reasons for thinking so. Let’s start by her name: other than being a card game, Black Maria is also a variety of bougainvillea, a clear reference to Kuja’s floral naming theme; there is also a flower named Spider Lily (Lycoris radiata) referencing her Devil Fruit powers and Amazon Lily alike. Black Maria has also flowers in her hair; the most prominent ones, colored in red, have also five petals, much like the one Gloriosa wears in her hair! She is also the owner of a brothel in Onigashima and, also due to her size, it’s heavily implied that she and Kaido have a… passionate relationship, as Oda would put it (However, Kaido probably views her as nothing more than a distraction). Of course, Kaido and his wife must have had their passionate moments, since they have a child. Moreover, Benzaiten is almost always represented playing a biwa, and, as shown in chapter 992, Black Maria can play it very well. She also has a remarkable singing voice, a feature which was one of the basic requisites to become a geisha. Geishas also were protected by Benzaiten. All in all, Black Maria is actually the biggest reference to Gloriosa... in a literal and figurative sense! Oh, one last thing: the men tied to her webs in Chapter 1005 can be a symbol for Kaido’s soul, unable to move on and perpetually being trapped in the memories and regrets of his relationship with Gloriosa together with his alcohol addiction.

Kaido’s flagship Currently, Kaido’s flagship is the only one among the four Emperors’ which has yet to be seen or named. Some speculate that it’s actually Onigashima, but, in my opinion, that’s not the case: why would he travel with his entire home, with the concrete risk of it being destroyed every time he faces an opponent? Also, Yamato is in there: they have explosive handcuffs which doesn’t allow them to leave the island, but what if someone with internal destruction haki actually removes them thus freeing Yamato and letting them escape? Also, what if Yamato actually gets severely wounded, or worse, killed by invaders? Kaido actually strikes me as an overprotective dad, thus he will never directly expose his child to external danger. The handcuffs will explode if and only if Yamato actually tries to leave Onigashima: if they stay there, nothing will happen. Plus, in chapter 997, when Kaido started lifting Onigashima someone said that the island had never trembled like that before. Kaido actually has his flagship, and the reason why it hasn’t been shown is its name. I’ve said before that Gloriosa means glorious in some languages, therefore there’s a big chance that the ship will have in its name also the Japanese word of the same meaning. Maybe it’s called ‘Glorious Dragon’ in Japanese, or something like that.

Yamato Now, this will touch one of the most controversial topics within the community right now, which is Yamato’s gender; I wish not to discuss about it under this post, because this isn’t the time nor the place (IMO it’s better to delay the discussion at the end of this arc, when Yamato will hopefully detach from the Kozuki Oden persona and find their own identity). Regardless of all this, Yamato was born as a female: and Kujas give birth to female babies only.

Kaido and Big Mom comparison: Although they were part of the same pirate crew for some time and both of them being now Emperors, there are a lot of things about their characters which mark these two as counterparts: first of all, Kaido is male and Big Mom is female. Big Mom belongs to the older generations of pirates, while Kaido belongs to the new one (together with Shanks). Kaido drinks a lot while Big Mom eats a lot. Big Mom has more than 80 children, while Kaido just one*. Lastly, Big Mom has had many unknown husbands, who she married and treated as equals only to discard them when their children are born, revealing she had zero feelings towards them. With the previous comparisons in mind, it would make perfect sense for Kaido to have had only one wife who has already appeared in the story and who he has loved dearly and maybe still does.

*In my opinion, Katakuri, Oven and Daifuku aren’t Kaido’s sons. Even if the physical resemblance is uncanny, there are two major arguments against this supposed paternity: first, the triplets don’t display any type of horns, which Yamato, the known child of Kaido, has. Secondly, the Yonko’s age: he is surely younger than 68, since this is Big Mom’s age and she considers him like a little brother; however, being heavily implied that Shakuyaku was part of the Rocks Pirates as well and she was considered a pirate, while Kaido was only an apprentice, it’s implicitly stated that he must be younger than her, too. She’s now 64, and this puts his maximum age at 63; given the triplet’s age, 48, Kaido may have had them when he was 15, which is an age when men usually have reached their sexual maturity, but he may be even younger than that, so draw your conclusion.

I admit, this turned out a lot longer than I actually expected. My sincerest kudos to you, dear reader, for reading all this time-consuming post – I hope you enjoyed it as much as I had fun writing it.

Please, let me know your thoughts, they are more than welcome!

TL;DR: Gloriosa is Kaido’s wife and Yamato’s mother, she has eaten the mythical variant of the Kame Kame fruit, Katakuri is not Kaido’s son and Gin will become Pirate King.

comments on reddit  :

kaido has been revealed to be 59 

I really want to know who yamatos mother was and I am willing to accept any theory for now

[writersrealmbts]

Clearwater Springs: Part 1

Description: ot7 x reader, reader’s choice, fairy/supernatural/soulmate au. The choices you make influence the story! In this world, war-torn and ragged, you’ve been offered a home and a job working as a librarian. Will you meet your soulmates? Will you ever find the shelves behind the piles of books? Who knows.

Warnings: None

Posted: 08/29/2020

Tags: ot7 x reader, supernatural bts, 

5,111 words

A/N: Once I was actually able to write, this came out really easily. I hope you guys enjoy it and don’t forget to do the pre-chapter 2 survey (link at the end of post)! 

You stared up at the house in a bit of a daze, still untethered. Still vulnerable.

“Isn’t it magnificent?! A real masterpiece, this house.”

You glanced at your over-enthusiastic caseworker, then looked back up at the grand Victorian house, wondering if the inside matched the outside, and why such a grand house was way out in the middle of nowhere. Why its owner would offer to take in strays, misfits, and others in need of a new home after the recent war when they were obviously still doing well despite the near economic collapse.

Your caseworker was practically bouncing up to the house, making you dizzy as he jostled the itty-bitty fountain you were temporarily tied to.

But you’d been dealing with that for a month, and you were getting pretty good at walking a straight line while the world appeared to spin around you.

“Now, if you and he agree at the end of the day, you’ll be tethered to a natural spring and the creek it runs into nearby, and you’ll stay in one of the spare rooms and you’ll help him organize and keep his library, which he runs as a traditional library—when organized—for some of the locals.”

You didn’t bother responding since he didn’t seem to be looking for a response, instead heavily trodding up to the front door as he rang the doorbell.

“Also, to simulate what life will be like, I’ll be leaving you for the day once I set your fountain down in a safe spot.”

“You said,” You murmured, closing your eyes for a moment, feeling yourself swaying from side to side. As a xana, you were originally tethered to a fountain many miles away, but as the war reached that town, your fountain had been damaged and your original workplace—a large library where you specialized in the children’s section, reading to them and singing your songs—utterly demolished. Because the fountain wasn’t completely destroyed, you survived. An experimental spell and three weeks later and there you were, standing on the steps of the home of a human where you would be exchanging work for a place to sleep and food to eat. You didn’t even need that much food, about a meal a day was enough for you when your tethered place was healthy and strong and not being jerked around like a dog was playing tug-of-war with it.

The front door opened, revealing a man with pink hair. “Hello, you must be Y/n. We’ve been expecting you. Welcome to Clearwater Springs.”

“We?” You asked, glancing at your worker.

The human did as well. “You told her about the house’s haltija, right?”

You relaxed. “Oh. Just a haltija?”

“Well, he’s also half-brownie, but thankfully that only manifests in the occasional clumsy or destructive moment. He’s quite friendly, though, and very fond of the forest,” The human spoke quickly, as though afraid you would pass negative judgement on the haltija—creatures who were known for guarding and protecting—for having brownie blood—admittedly, creatures who could become troublesome when disrespected, but otherwise also keepers of the home and chore-doers for the kind.

“I’m sure he’s very kind and gentle,” You replied.

“Right. And you’re a xana?”

You nodded.

“And...I’m sorry, I’m not sure what exactly that is, other than the fact that you’re generally tied to some form of pure water, like fountains, springs, rivers, waterfalls….”

You nodded. “I’m originally from a fountain. Um...I’m not sure how to explain what I am.”

Your caseworker took that hint. “Oh! Right, well, they seem to always know virtuous hearts through some test or other—though no one ever seems to be able to pin down the test—um, they have enchanted songs that bring feelings of peace and love to the pure and could almost kill those who are impure. Um, let’s see, she has combs made of moonbeams and sunlight, respectively. Can’t completely care for babies, but once they can feed themselves she’s fine.”

You frowned, fighting yourself not to glare at him. Your species couldn’t produce milk, so in the old days—before there was formula—it was a sort of changeling situation. A Xanino would replace a human child. Terrible, but true. Nowadays, most xaninos were adopted by naiads or other nature or house spirits—because now it was scandalous to try and raise your own child as a xana.

“Oh, she has treasure, but who knows where she keeps that—”

“It’s enchanted, you’re not supposed to know where I keep it,” You muttered, even though he wasn’t paying any attention to you.

“And she can give you a drink that we call ‘Love water’. Couldn’t tell you why, and I’ve never seen her hand it out. Think that’s it. Here’s her fountain, I’ll be back at sundown.”

The human almost dropped the fountain that was shoved into his hands, and if he wasn’t so surprised you thought he might have yelled at your caseworker.

But the car peeled down the driveway again, kicking up dirt.

You stared after him, a little disconcerted. “Mages.”

“Um, well, we’ve been preparing for your arrival. We’ve gotten the basement bathroom renovated so that you can shower or bathe in the waters of your spring when you need, and your bedroom is ready for you. We thought you’d prefer to decorate it with your things...but looking back now I probably should have known you wouldn’t have many things. It’s a hard time for everyone,” The human rambled, rubbing his neck. “Oh, I’m Seokjin, by the way.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose your name would be important. I’d hate to be rude and just refer to you as ‘The Human” when you’re my boss.”

Seokjin looked startled at the title. “I’d rather think of it as a partnership. I’ve been told I shouldn’t live alone, and you needed a new home. Also, my library is out of control and I have no idea where to start—I mean, other than the new library building that we just finished. Don’t worry, it’s very close to your water source as well, but your spring is still highly protected.”

You just nodded, wondering why he didn’t stare like most humans did. You were beautiful—that was one of the key points of defining a xana: being extraordinarily beautiful. Xana’s were considered more beautiful than any other species—and only a few other species even tried to contend with it since yours was more rare, and therefore more worth the attention.

“Um, let’s get inside so I can set this down. We’ll make sure Namjoon steers completely clear of it.” Seokjin stepped back and leaned his head in a gesture that suggested welcoming you inside and to follow him.

He led the way through the entry, and then to the living room through the arch immediately to the right. He took the fountain and placed it on a table that was against the wall—out of the way of general traffic. “There. Now, Namjoon should be around somewhere. Probably the garden, he likes it out there. But for now let me show you the house, including where you’ll be staying and then we’ll go and talk about the library. There’s a lot of work that I want to do, Namjoon is heavily involved in that too. He likes books, but between us...we don’t really have the skills to put what we want into action—which is why we’re really excited that you’re here.” He started the tour.

“I’ll do my best to h-hell, what is this hell?” You said, looking at the mess. It looked somewhat like a library, except you couldn’t even see the shelves. It was just piles upon piles of books, newspapers, journals, magazines, and comic books with a thin path between it all.

Seokjin winced. “It is...mildly organized. We’ve been receiving donations. Don’t worry, there will be a bigger place, we mostly just need to pack all of this up and move it to the new facility in an...organized fashion.”

You pointed at the mix of magazines and books. “This is organized.”

“I did say somewhat, didn’t I? We had a large influx of books very suddenly. Things got very messy in the chaos of it all. I think they were sending us books from destroyed libraries.” He shrugged a bit. “Don’t worry. We’ll be helping at every turn and I’m bringing in extra workers from town as needed.”

You supposed that was supposed to be comforting, but you were staring at a nightmare of a situation. One toppling tower, and there was no navigating through.

“Hyung? Is that you?” The pile asked.

Then it was all falling over and someone was diving out while Seokjin pulled you against the wall and out of the way.

Seokjin sighed. “Namjoon. Our guest is here.”

The man with blue hair looked up, then back at his legs (which were trapped under many books), then back at you. He stared at you with big eyes, looking a little flustered.

You took a deep breath. “Well, that is exactly what we didn’t want to happen.”

“Yeah. Namjoon, didn’t we talk about not going in there?” Seokjin bent down and grabbed Namjoon under the arms and pulled him out from the pile, helping him to his feet.

“I just wanted the next book in my series.” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck. “I was doing okay until then.”

Seokjin shook his head a bit. “Namjoonie, this is y/n. She’s the one that’s going to stay with us and help with the library?”

Namjoon was definitely already staring at you, and he looked a little flustered and red. “Hi.”

“She’s a xana. Y/n, this is Namjoon, the haltija of the house.”

“Uh, nice to meet you,” Namjoon said hurriedly.

“Nice to meet you, too,” You replied, trying for a smile, but you were pretty sure you just gave him a woozy look.

“Maybe you should lie down before we continue the house tour? He was jostling your fountain around quite a bit.” Seokjin frowned toward the front door.

Namjoon nodded. “He’s right. You need rest. I can tell.”

You shrugged. “Nah, the world is supposed to be constantly spinning.”

“Should I carry her? Should I carry you?” Seokjin asked, sounding and looking a little panicked.

You shrugged. “I’m fine. This has been my life for the past three months.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened.

Seokjin looked like he was going to have a meltdown.

“Unless you’re going to have a panic attack, in which case you may carry me if it will help you,” You said quickly, concerned with how quickly he was freaking out.

Namjoon glanced at the human, then nodded. “I think that might be the only way to stall him out. He’s not wearing his glasses.”

You shrugged again, uncertain what not having glasses had to do with anything, and waited while Namjoon muttered something to Seokjin.

A couple moments later, Seokjin came over, muttering something about being sorry, then he carefully scooped you up. “Sorry, your dress is a little slippery. Silk?”

You nodded. “Yeah. My clothes just sort of...appear as I need them? Usually made of silk, but sometimes there’s a velvet cloak when it’s colder. Some linen when it’s warmer. Always dresses.”

“Cool,” Namjoon said, following the two of you up the stairs.

“I suppose so,” You replied, doing your best not to look at Seokjin. He was handsome for a human. And you’d never seen a non-fairy pull off pink hair before today. He had a sort of gentleness to his face, a softness that could easily become cold and judgemental. If that even made sense.

But honestly, there were very few things that made sense since the war had begun some ten years ago.

“Why is your hair blue?” You asked the haltija, looking over Seokjin’s shoulder as you realized you had been looking at him despite specifically thinking you shouldn’t and only noticing because his ears had started turning a violent shade of red.

“Oh...uh...we’re not really sure. It just sort of...changes now and then. A few days ago I woke up and it was this color. Before that it had been brown.”

“Did you two paint any part of the house?”

“Well, not in the same time frame as my hair color changing. And definitely not this color. Jin-hyung has this crazy theory that it’s connected to my soulmate or something.”

“You have a soulmate?” You asked, surprised.

He nodded, rubbing his left shoulder-pectoral area, which meant either his mark was located there or he had some muscle pain from his dive for freedom in the great August book-slide. “Yeah. Or...well, I have multiple sections in my mark...so, I guess I’m part of a soul-group. Probably a platonic one given my species.”

“You never know what’s waiting around the riverbend,” You replied, thinking back to Grandma Loire’s wise words when you had been fretting about the war. Granted, at that time, her words had been very wrong, but you wouldn’t begrudge the dead for their mistakes.

But also thinking about your own soulmark and the multiple parts in it. You were certain it was just a coincidence, but it was still an interesting fact that you filed away.

“You sound like a naiad,” Namjoon snorted.

“A naiad told me that. She was very wrong at the time. Told me not to worry about the battle in Manhattan.”

“Ooh,” He winced. “Very wrong.”

Seokjin held onto you a little tighter. “Where did you live before this?”

“Rocamadour. Our library was new when I started working there. Before there were a couple but they were in some towns over.”

“Where is that?” Namjoon asked.

“It’s in the Alps,” Seokjin answered, then paused at the top of the stairs. “Get the door?”

The door swung open before Seokjin had finished asking.

You craned your head to look at Namjoon, suddenly concerned with your privacy.

He held up his hands. “I can open doors and windows, I can’t see through walls. I can also hear things, if you want me to. If you want me to hear, just knock or tap your foot three times and I’ll listen.”

You nodded slightly and relaxed again.

Seokjin carried you into the room, which was painted such a calm color. The bed was a queen-size, and it was soft when he lay you in the middle of it. The top blanket was velvet-y and so, so soft.

Namjoon gave you a smile when you let out a sound of appreciation.

Seokjin smiled at you. “Well, I’m going to find out whether he’s coming back to check in on you tonight or not while you rest, then we’ll go over other things and go to the spring. Feel free to go anywhere in the house, as long as it isn’t one of our bedrooms. Mine is on the first floor, Namjoon’s is across the hall. Food in the kitchen is up for grabs unless it’s in the meal-plan that I have on the fridge. Oh, that door there leads to your bathroom, the one next to it leads to your closet, and this third door leads to your sitting room or office or whatever you want to use it for. We’ll let you nap now.”

Namjoon dipped his head as Seokjin pushed and pulled him out of your bedroom door.

You stared at the closed door for a moment, then lay back. You were still so accustomed to sleeping on your fountain or in your fountain that this felt weird. But it felt weird in a heavenly sort of way. You slid up and then managed to slide under the covers, a little excited about the silk sheets. It was so nice.

So heavenly that you woke up feeling so refreshed that it had to be illegal. Sure, you still felt a little off (because the fountain you were temporarily tethered too wasn’t the greatest), but you felt much better than before.

You slid out of the sheets, enjoying the feel of the hardwood on your feet as you cautiously checked out your bathroom, closet, and sitting room (which only had an armchair and a small sofa). Once you had tested the seats (because you had to know which would be your favorite, it was the armchair), you ventured out into the hallway.

Namjoon’s door was open, but you didn’t hear anything in there, so you decided not to bother him.

Instead, you headed back the way you had been carried, looking around for more detail.

The structure of the house, the woodwork, the moulding, the baseboards and the stairway all had a distinctly Victorian style, and all were likely original to the house. But the design was more subtle, softer, and more contemporary in the coloring and the furniture. It was a nice sort of mix that gave the house an air of elegance that was refreshing. You’d been in some victorian-style homes before and they had been so overwhelmingly Victorian that it was like you were trapped in England in that time period and about to choke on a piece of jellied eel.

You avoided the pile of books spilling out of the library (but did notice that they’d been somewhat cleaned up), and checked out the living room again with the ulterior motive of checking on your current fountain.

The style was even more contemporary there, yet still paid a nice homage to the house. A monochrome color scheme, with pops of color in some of the throw pillows and delicate accents in the artwork.

Your fountain looked cleaner than ever and had a healthy amount of water in it for once, which you honestly felt boded well for you. There even seemed to be a new coating of pebbles at the bottom of the small basin.

You flinched as a cat hopped up onto the table next to the fountain and took a drink from it. It was young, a long-haired calico, so soft and pretty looking.

You let it sniff your hand, humming softly before you carefully picked it up. You snuggled it, happy when it seemed to revel in your attention, even seeking it when you started looking over the books that were seperated from the library and on the shelf beside the fireplace. There weren’t many, but you recognized one or two of the titles, and the taste there seemed to vary widely. You figured they were probably books from both of the boys, and left them as they were to go try and find the kitchen for a glass of water.

The office was nearby, but didn’t look like it got used as an office very often, but definitely seemed to have a gaming station in one corner.

You found the billiard’s room next, noting that there was a ping-pong table folded up in a corner. It seemed pretty abandoned, clean, but not nearly as used.

Then a smell permeated the air, drawing you back toward soft noise and even softer humming, murmured conversation and the sizzling of something cooking.

You peeked into the large kitchen, smiling when you saw Namjoon reading in one corner, and Seokjin cooking at the stove. Namjoon seemed to be explaining the book to Seokjin, quietly passionate about it.

Seokjin was smiling and humming, possibly more focused on what he was cooking, but still seeming to hear what Namjoon was saying.

“Smells good,” You said quietly, slipping completely into the room. Trying not to disturb the aura.

Seokjin turned and grinned at you. “Hey! You look like you feel better.”

You nodded. “That bed is heavenly. And thank you for cleaning the fountain.”

He shrugged. “It looked like it had been neglected for a while. Namjoon found some pebbles for it as well because he read that once they’ve been exposed to the tether it can make a transition easier, theoretically.”

Namjoon looked embarrassed, rubbing his neck. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to try it out.”

“That was very thoughtful,” You told him, smiling at him as well.

He was bright red after that.

Seokjin chuckled. “I’ll have dinner ready soon. Then I thought we could head down to the new library building, and then maybe go into town. There isn’t much, but I do need to pick up some things.”

You took the seat that Namjoon offered. “That sounds like a plan. Who’s the kitty?”

“Oh, that’s Parsley. She followed us home one day and has been here ever since.” Namjoon pet the cat carefully. “She’s a good mouser, so we just sort of created a pact that as long as she keeps us pest free, we’ll keep her pest-free.”

“She’s a cutie,” You said, pressing your cheek against the soft fur and enjoying the soothing vibrations of her purr. It was just one of the many things that made you feel so comfortable here. That and both men seemed relatively impervious to your enchanting beauty, which was refreshing. It gave you hope that this would work out. That you wouldn’t always be free-floating.

“She is. Do you know anything about this bird that practically forced it’s way into our house?” Seokjin asked, pointing toward the ceiling.

You leaned to the left to look at the little black and white fluff-ball. “Was wondering when he would show up. He’s been following me for a while. Don’t know why, but he seems to have formed an attachment. Whether he feels like conversing is a completely different matter.”

“Does he have a name?”

“Not that he’ll tell me.”

Namjoon started laughing.

Seokjin gave you an exasperated look. “What do you call him?”

“Fluffball, marshmallow, cotton swab, cotton ball, cotton candy, fairy floss—he really doesn’t like that one—squishy, fluffy, Caspar, and Leo.” You shrugged. “Like I said, he won’t tell me his name. Just what his name isn’t.”

“So, none of those are his name?”

“Well, fairy floss isn’t. I’ve gotten to the point where I think he’s just waiting for someone else to settle on a name for him—preferably one he likes.”

“And until then, he’s just going to come and go as he pleases?”

You shrugged again, holding it for a while.

Namjoon was still laughing, his smile revealing some adorable dimples.

“So...is he a magical bird?”

You looked up at your feathered friend, and resisted the urge to shrug once more. “Maybe?”

Seokjin huffed. “What does he eat?”

“Haven’t the foggiest. He always leaves to eat. Sometimes I’d see him eating bird-seed, but mostly he just flies off and comes back well-fed. I think he eats insects.”

“Great. He can deal with the mosquitos.” Seokjin spared the bird a glance, then dished up the food. “The store might have some insects we can get for him, just in case. You never know. They always have weird things.”

“Really?” You looked forlornly after the kitty as it leaped off and disappeared through another doorway. “Is it a magic shop?”

“Well….”

“We told you that Jin-hyung is the only human in town, didn’t we?” Namjoon asked, eyes widened slightly. “Everyone who lives in the area is magical to some extent, except for hyung.”

You shook your head, a little stunned. “No. No you did not tell me that.”

But man was that an idea to wrap your head around.

Seokjin shrugged, having plated up the food. “This is a pretty popular place for refugees. Sort of remote and accepting of different species. A nice place to make a fresh start.”

“But...you’re the only human. Doesn’t that get...I don’t know...lonely?”

He blinked at you, then shook his head and shrugged. “No? I have Namjoonie, and now you’re here too. And yeah, I’m outnumbered, but they’ve never held my species against me. I mean, that’s probably because I did sort of pay for the whole town, which isn’t much. But more people come each day, and some people move on to other places once they’ve gotten back onto their feet. It’s like an adventure, meet some new characters, help them on their journey, then return home to sleep in a big, soft, bed with a full belly.”

And maybe the look of genuine happiness on his face was just a little too alluring.

Maybe you were just desperate to belong somewhere, because when he included you...it was like the world lit up.

And no, you were not tearing up.

His hand covered yours, warmth spreading from his touch to the mark that was hidden under the sleeve of your dress as he smiled warmly at you. “I really do hope that this place becomes your home. Everyone deserves to have a home.”

And then he was moving away, maybe not even aware that he was one of your soulmates since he was human.

“Come on, let’s eat.”

Namjoon quickly complied with Seokjin’s words, but you were slower to follow, trying to figure out how all of this had come about.

“I heard that a new van full of people arrived yesterday, so I want to see if I can meet any of them. See if we still have enough housing for everyone. That might mean a couple people staying with us in the house if there isn’t enough housing. Is that okay?”

You nodded, just following their actions, but not taking as much food as they did. Mostly because you didn’t need much food to survive, but it smelled good. So good, and Seokjin did cook it himself.

“Alright, then it’s a plan. Eat, see the new library, go to the store, meet people, come home.” Seokjin nodded firmly at the end of the list, then seemed to remember something. “And talk to your mage-handler and see about tethering you to the spring. That’s probably more important. We can do the other things tomorrow if we have to, but the tethering should be done sooner rather than later. That is, if you want to be tethered to the spring. You wouldn’t necessarily have to live here your whole life, we could always get you your own home, it would just—”

“Living here is fine, and yes, I would like to be tethered to the spring,” You said quickly, noticing how his speech was deteriorating. “I just have one question.”

“Oh?” He looked so genuinely concerned, leaning forward in his seat.

“Namjoon said you wear glasses, so...have you actually seen me?”

Namjoon snickered.

Seokjin’s ears turned bright red. “Um. Yes. Yes I can see you. I have seen you. I’m seeing you. I, um, I put in my, um, contacts. I can see you quite clearly. Also, I could see you when I was closer. Just, not after a certain distance. And yes, we do plan on actively protecting you when we go out.”

You nodded. “Just curious.”

Namjoon paused after swallowing. “The mage is back.”

Seokjin sighed. “So, town tomorrow then. I’ll go let him in. I suppose this means I need to offer him dinner?”

“That would be the polite thing,” Namjoon said, gleefully.

Seokjin muttered as he left the room.

“He’s...unusual for a human,” You commented.

Namjoon nodded. “Yeah. He is. But he’s one of the best human’s I’ve ever met. We’re really glad you’re going to stay with us, Y/n. I hope you never regret your choice.”

“I hope so too.” But you didn’t think you would.

Namjoon turned toward the door, eyes narrowed slightly before rolling his eyes. “Can you help me cover the food? Apparently Mr. Mage is insisting on doing the tethering now if you agree to it.”

You rolled your eyes and got up to help him cover all three plates and the platters and bowls with tin foil to possibly retain some warmth. You highly doubted you’d be eating again that evening since tethering made you impossibly nauseous and sleepy. “I won’t be very coherent after the tethering.”

He nodded. “We’ll make sure you get back here and into bed safely, or into the tub downstairs.”

You nodded, then followed him out to where Seokjin was listening to your mage, looking strained.

“Ah, so, have you decided whether you wish to be tethered to the spring here or not?”

“I have decided to be tethered, yes.” Anything to not be in his careless hands anymore.

“Excellent! I’ll get the fountain!”

“How about I grab it, that way your hands are free to do the actual spell,” Jin quickly intervened. “Namjoon can lead the way back to the mouth of the spring.”

You breathed a sigh of relief as the mage agreed to it. At least Seokjin would be careful.

“Alright, then lets head to this spring! I’d love to be on the road before dark.”

Namjoon’s chin jutted out slightly.

Seokjin just gave a pained smile, nodding. “Yes. Driving after dark is a pain. Namjoon. Lead the way.”

And you weren’t about to tell on Namjoon when you saw one of the floorboards pop up to trip the mage, because you kind of felt somewhat vindicated.

The forest around the house was made up primarily of spruces, firs, pines, and hemlocks with birches, oaks, and red maples popping through here and there. The path that the four of you took (with a little fluffball following overhead and a calico furball following behind curiously) was discreet, yet also fairly well-worn. As though walked often, but also well-cared for.

It was quiet, with varying degrees of density—some areas providing a wide view of the rest of the forest, and other areas being so dense that you couldn’t see a foot past the nearest tree.

Namjoon followed the path for a while, then diverged into the forest down what appeared to be a game-trail, something not walked often.

Then you could sense the water. It’s purity, it’s cleanliness. Free and untethered.

The creek was beautiful, and all of you followed it to the head of the spring.

You grinned when you saw it, a thrill going through you. It was beautiful and so clean and lovely and it was going to be yours.

Seokjin set your fountain down so that the mage could prepare the spell, then came over to you. “You’re sure about this?”

You looked into his eyes, the eyes of one of your soulmates, and nodded. “I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, a little more carefree now.

You hoped you’d have the courage to talk about soulmates with him someday, but today you were going to have your soul ripped from a tiny fountain and sewn back into a spring. You only had so much courage.

And then the mage started the spell.

--

Survey Results used for this chapter: 

Namjoon-Blue (haltija), Seokjin-Pink (human), You-Cyan (xana) 

Silk, Book-Librarian, Creek-what your water source is attached to, House/Apartment/Mansion, Style-Victorian & Contemporary, view-boreal/boreal-mix forest, calico kitty, white bird with black wings, 

Whoops-meet Seokjin first, Oh No-meet Namjoon second, LaLaLa-C (some friends, some strangers), Loyalty-Soulmate au, Black-War tore through and you're all in relief housing situation.

--

Pre-Chapter 2 Survey

Next.

Masterlist.  ot7 Masterpost.

--

Taglist: @missmoxxiesworld​  @bryvada​  @i-dont-even-know-fck​ @knjhe​ @alex--awesome--22  @kerikaaria​ @killcomet​ @letsreadbts​ @taestannie​

[my-bated-breath]

Rage, Compassion, and the Bridge in Between

An essay on Katara’s emotions

On the spectrum of human emotion, rage and compassion exist on opposite ends. After all, rage is harsh and violent while compassion is soothing and nurturing; rage is unforgiving while compassion is all-forgiving. As such, they run a parallel course to each other, one canceling out the other whenever they do meet.

At least, that’s what we expect. We expect anger and kindness to be separate entities, and our media reflects this - a character is either severe or gentle, and in the rare case that they’re both, the contrast between their ability to hurt and their ability to heal is treated as a dichotomy. Except the human condition is not that simple, and sometimes, there is a not-so-simple story that remembers that.

In Avatar: The Last Airbender, Katara embodies the human condition - or more specifically, she embodies the duality within it. Throughout the show, her tenderness and her wrath are balanced in a way that renders her one of the most well-written female characters in children’s animation, perhaps even in all of television. Because Katara’s anger and compassion do not simply split themselves into two identities. Instead, they coexist and coalesce into one. They drive each other; they feed into each other; they are two sides of the same coin.

But how can that be true when opposite traits are supposed to clash and counter each other’s effects?

There’s no denying that at times, Katara’s anger and compassion serve to show two different sides of her. We even see this within the very first episode:

(on left) Katara: No that's it! I'm done helping you! From now on, you're on your own!

(on right) Katara: He's alive! We have to help!

At first, Katara’s irritation towards Sokka is what causes her to accidentally waterbend the iceberg open, in which the transcript describes her movements as “agitated.” However, as soon as she sees Aang, this irritation is replaced by concern for “the boy in the iceberg.” Hence, within a few minutes, we see how Katara can be motivated by compassion and rage separately.

Still, just because her kindness and anger are shown to be separate in many scenes that this separation applies to every scenario. Although Katara’s two opposite traits are opposite, that does not mean they are always opposing. Instead, they can fuel each other - her rage can fuel her compassion, and her compassion can fuel her rage.

Let’s see how.

Part 1 - Katara’s Rage Fuels Her Compassion

Throughout the series, Katara shares her grief over her mother’s death as a way to sympathize with others. In “The Southern Air Temple,” “Imprisoned,” and “Jet,” Katara tells Aang, Haru, and Jet about the effect the Fire Nation raids had on her, which establishes some of the most emotionally-charged scenes in these episodes. She is at her most vulnerable during these moments, laying bare a deep-rooted trauma in order to reach out and connect with someone else.

Dialogue from The Southern Air Temple

Katara: Aang, before we get to the temple, I want to talk to you about the airbenders.

Aang: What about 'em?

Katara: Well, I just want you to be prepared for what you might see. The Fire Nation is ruthless. They killed my mother, and they could have done the same to your people.

Dialogue from Imprisoned

Haru: Yeah. Problem is... the only way I can feel close to my father now is when I practice my bending. He taught me everything I know.

Katara: See this necklace? My mother gave it to me.

Haru: It's beautiful.

Katara: I lost my mother in a Fire Nation raid. This necklace is all I have left of her.

Haru: It's not enough, is it?

Katara: No.

Dialogue from Jet

Jet: The Fire Nation killed my parents. I was only eight years old. That day changed me forever.

Katara: Sokka and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation.

Jet: I'm so sorry, Katara.

However, these moments seem to distinctly lack any hint of anger from Katara’s end, so it may seem irrelevant to mention them here - that is, until we remember Katara had mentioned her mother one more time. Trapped in the Crystal Catacombs with a former enemy, she once again says that the Fire Nation took her mother away from her - but this time not with sympathy. No, this time she is filled with rage.

Dialogue from The Crossroads of Destiny

Zuko: You don't know what you're talking about!

Katara: I don't? How dare you! You have no idea what this war has put me through! Me personally! The Fire Nation took my mother away from me.

As Katara sits down, tears forming in her eyes, it becomes clear that her grief has festered into bitterness and anger towards the Fire Nation. By now, her grief is her anger, and so it’s not just shared pain Katara is empathizing within all four of these scenarios - it’s also shared rage.

She is gentle with Aang because she knows the effects of loss (inducing the Avatar State); she is sympathetic with Haru because she knows what she would be driven to do to have her mother back (inciting a prison break by stirring the prisoners’ righteous anger); and she is moved by Jet’s dedication to the Freedom Fighters because she would fight for the Southern Water Tribe too (against the Fire Nation, although Jet’s rage blinds him in a way that Katara’s doesn’t).

Then, in the Crystal Catacombs, it’s Katara’s anger towards the Fire Nation that uncovers her hidden pain. Her vulnerability is what causes Zuko’s words (“That’s what we have in common”) to resonate with her so much, enough for her to offer to heal his scar.

Therefore, Katara’s relationship with anger and grief (whether it’s emotionally-driven similar to how Aang enters the Avatar state or self-righteous similar to her calling the earthbender prisoners to action) is the foundation for some of her most compassionate moments in the series.

Part 2 - Katara’s Compassion Fuels Her Rage

Just as some of her most sympathetic moments are rooted in understanding someone else’s rage, many of Katara’s harshest moments see her acting on the behalf of others’ pain and needs.

As the designated “mother” of the Gaang, the Gaang’s more silly and immature antics often aggravate her and cause her to reprimand them severely, a clash that features prominently in Katara and Toph’s relationship.

In “The Chase” and “The Runaway,”  Katara shouts at Toph for lacking a sense of responsibility. However, her indignation does not simply stem from taking personal defense, but from wanting to safeguard the family she has found in the Gaang. Then, both these times, Toph learns the true motives behind Katara’s overbearing actions through a conversation with Iroh and Sokka, respectively.

Dialogue from The Chase

Toph: People see me and think I'm weak. They want to take care of me, but I can take care of myself, by myself.

Iroh: You sound like my nephew, always thinking you need to do things on your own, without anyone's support. There is nothing wrong with letting the people who love you help you.

When Toph talks with Iroh in “The Chase,” Iroh imparts some wisdom on finding mutual support in friendship, implying that Katara pushing responsibilities onto Toph is her way of solidifying and upholding the loving and supportive dynamic within the Gaang.

Dialogue from The Runaway

Sokka: I'm gonna tell you something crazy. I never told anyone this before, but honestly? I'm not sure I can remember what my mother looked like. It really seems like my whole life, Katara's been the one looking out for me. She's always been the one that's there. And now, when I try to remember my mom, Katara's is the only face I can picture.

Toph: The truth is sometimes Katara does act motherly, but that's not always a bad thing. She's compassionate and kind, and she actually cares about me. You know, the real me. That's more than my own mom.

As the dialogue states, “Katara’s been the one looking out for [them].” Hence, her mothering tendencies towards Toph in “The Runaway” are evoked by her wanting to avoid the danger that Toph’s high-profile scamming is beginning to place them in. In other words, she simply wants to protect her makeshift family because “she actually cares about [Toph and the rest of the Gaang]. You know, the real [them].”

Katara’s ability to empathize with others, to see past facades and prejudices, is one of her defining traits. Earlier, in the episode “The Painted Lady,” Katara manages to see beyond the people of Jang Hui’s Fire Nation background and recognize that above all else, they are suffering from war and poverty. Consequently, they are people who need her.

As such, even the notion of abandoning the people of Jang Hui (as suggested by Sokka) enrages her because Katara is someone who “will never, ever turn my back on people who need [her]!”

Still, Katara’s desire to fight for a village of strangers cannot compare to the lengths she would take to protect Aang.

Dialogue from The Western Air Temple

Katara: You might have everyone else here buying your… transformation, but you and I both know you've struggled with doing the right thing in the past. So let me tell you something, right now. You make one step backward, one slip-up, give me one reason to think you might hurt Aang, and you won't have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I'll make sure your destiny ends ... right then and there. Permanently.

While Zuko was a bystander as Azula shot lightning at Aang, he was an active participant in his fight against Katara, whom, just moments ago, he shared an incredibly intimate moment with. But despite how Zuko betrayed Katara personally, it is the impact his betrayal had on Aang’s life (and death) that she focuses on. So even at her most threatening, Katara acts to protect someone else, Aang, the boy who is her friend and her family.

Together, all these instances reveal that Katara’s compassion is what grants her a protective instinct, and her protective instinct is what moves her to anger and violence.

Conclusion

Katara’s character provides invaluable insight into the relationship between compassion and rage, revealing how it is not simply black contrasting white, but a spread of grays and contradictions. After all, that is who Katara is. She is two sides of the same coin and the bridge in between.

Even more, that is the human condition - full of grays and contradictions, simultaneously negating and reciprocating, balancing and tipping the scales all at once. And perhaps human emotion, in all its breadth, cannot be contained to a two-dimensional spectrum where emotions can either be placed close together or on opposite ends - because humanity is of infinite dimensions, constructed from science, dictated by art. And yet, somehow it is a two-dimensional animated character who captures human complexity with such ease.

[childofsolace-write-ups]

[ARC ONE: REUNION]

INTRODUCTION

In the first year, thinking about it now, it was probably already starting then. There was no disaster, but I think it had been hinting on something, about an end that was to come. It was completely dark that night, we thought it was just some kind of an eclipse. But this one was a little strange. It was eerily quiet. I was scared. My baby sister was scared. Hell, my parents were scared. But then, they said it would be okay.

Like always, for every single day of our life, the sun would come up again, shine upon Gaea, and things will go back to normal.

Was I ever wrong.

You know what they say, right? Don't look at an eclipse straight in the eye. It could ruin your eyes? Well, when the sun came, it was so much worse. Anyone who walked out was burned... No, incinerated. Just like that, stepping outside and they spontaneously combust on the spot. The world thought it was just some new phenomenon. Scientists were trying to figure out why it happened. It took a whole year, but nothing came up for their trouble.

Then six more years followed, each one bringing forth a different kind of terror. The weather was unpredictable; countries that never experienced snow suddenly started experiencing hailstorms, leading up to terrible geo-storms. Insects invaded farms and destroyed their produce. Wildlife got infected with some unknown substance until them finally became creatures that look more like monsters we read only ever read about in stories, or watch about it movies.

And that was just the beginning of where everything went completely wrong...

/Trent Everhart/.Transmission over.//Year 70/

Once, people flourished and made a living above land. The resources were abundant. But then again, so were the humans who needed them.

Soon, 'Natural' lost its meaning, 'Artificial' replaced it. Machinery operations ran the daily lives of people, flowers and plants were faked serving as decorations, tall buildings took the place of tall trees in rain forests. Most factors considered natural can only be seen through microscopes.

But nature took its own course and returned with vengeance. Cosmic debris crash landed from above, causing an explosion that plagued the entire planet. It polluted the atmosphere and strange side effects started revealing themselves. Animals and vegetations alike were most susceptible to these changes. They attacked humans, nearly wiping out the entire species. Unable to thoroughly explain how this happened, scientists, without sufficient evidence, wrote it off as radioactive particles causing severe chemical changes to earth's living inhabitants.

But humans were smart, they were animals in their own way. They strive for survival.

Using the historical underground city of Derinkuyu as a reference they created a modernized type and with their latest state of the art technology they expanded it even further from two hundred feet to one thousand feet. For this purpose, unbeknown to the public, a life under the surface of the Earth was being prepared for them. Unlike the Derinkuyu however, they had the materials and technology to have metallic interiors and bunker units for dwelling. A large, nine hundred meter metallic ventilation shaft was constructed, filtering the carbon from above to be breathable oxygen air. The shaft also provided water to both the villagers above and, if the outside world was not accessible, to those in hiding.

Eventually, anyone not affected by the atmosphere were evacuated to underground cities right before the atmosphere could become too unpredictable and prove hazardous to their lives. A new system of governance was created. Since the underground cities in all part of the world were interconnected one way or another, they all decided to use a unified language starting then. 'Councillors' is the term referred to leaders chosen in each division, the word country becoming obsolete.

Guards who were obligated to inspect the surface level regularly were given Hi-tech contamination suits with advanced, state-of-the-art filters as to not be be affected by the atmosphere since anyone exposed to the atmosphere is banned from re-entering the cities. Some people died due to open wounds exposed to the atmosphere's strange particles.

Soon, humans engaged in a new form of living, but not without encountering troubles along the way.

The fear of being unable to distribute provisions without having shortages became prominent. This led the Councilors to convene altogether and come up with a radical solution. They decided to send back to the surface anyone they classify as worthless or a liability. More than a thousand orphaned, disabled, and jobless individuals were sent back up on the first release. It did not really matter to them if they survived or not, it was inconsequential as long as their survival was assured. In the years that followed, this became a normal routine. With the initial liabilities released, all the present releases were orphaned children. Then again, as one hero once stated in the History of the Surface, "The Youth is the hope of the nation", there came a generation of hope.

It was not planned, it wasn't an intention. It just happened.

Of the first batch of releases that only involved orphans, only eight had survived the harsh environment of the regressed and primitive state that the surface had been reduced to. Together, they survived and now thrive to make a living once more above ground, as humans were really meant to be.

Still, the Underground city was not to be ignored. And perhaps, it is to be reminded, who the true enemy really is.

::TREY::

The forest is quiet.

That's your first clue. Even on the surface, even given that most of the Earth's living creatures got wiped out within weeks of it happening, things should never be This quiet.

You'll never know; something dangerous could be trying to hide itself.

"I think this is where I found it."

I give a jolt when Lexie spoke behind me. I completely forgot she was there. With the silence, it was easy to think I was alone. "Keep your voice down," I whisper. "we don't know what might be out there."

"Trey," Kytes whispers back. "wouldn't it be better to just use telepathy? We wouldn't be making any sound."

I sigh, "Kyi that would be using our signature and if there is any bad Mana around here, that would set things off, like an open flame to gas leaks." I rub my forehead. "C'mon, we've been over this a thousand times. You're lucky it's not Rhys reminding you."

Kytes scratches his head. "Oh, yeah..."

"Been here for eight years, you would think you'd have that memorized by now." Lexie teases playfully. "It's survival 101."

Oh really? I think sarcastically. Like she's one to talk about survival 101. Half the time, Corrin's the ones reminding her of our protocols...

Kytes looks a little sheepish. "People can be forgetful, it happens..."

"Okay, shut it already you two." They weren't really making any real noise, but I knew Lexie's tendencies and once you got her talking, it might be harder to get her to stop. "Kytes's idea was good just too bad for that small detail. Now we should keep quiet." Like I was making any noise, though. "Let's get a move on, keep alert for anything that doesn't feel right."

"Heh, I forgot how uptight Trey can be..."

I huff in irritation but chose not to respond. She calls it being uptight, I call it instinct. It was very important after all, especially in terms of surviving the surface's unpredictability. We, the ones left, have gotten pretty good in relying on instincts. It's about the only warning you get up here.

The forest is very unusual even if it looks like any other forest. For one thing, I'm not even sure it can be called a forest, at least not a natural one, given that it's growing in the middle of what used to be a town. The road is cracked by numerous roots, and most of the buildings have trees growing out of them. Their walls could be hiding any number of things. The forest itself is the oddest thing. Many years ago, this was a thriving metropolis, full of people, tourists, machines—now it's home to trees that look like they've been there a good fifty years at least. This is one of the most immediate changes caused by the strange atmosphere when the phenomenon had first spread out through the entire globe. The landscape got warped beyond all recognition in the early days. That's why so many people died...

Like mom and dad.

"Oh!" Lexie cries and stops in her tracks.

I turn towards her. "Shh!" I snap. "Alexis, jeez."

"But Trey, this is where I found it. Only..."

Kytes scans the area. "Well, it's not here now."

"Quiet, the creature that pissed might still be around." I face Lexie. "And you're sure the piss was the non-absorbent type?"

We have to watch where or what we step into. Because if, for instance, you got an open wound and you stepped into a puddle with urine in it and that wound happens to get infected as well then it could mean something really bad. The Rabid animals up here are so messed up that even a slight contact with their shit may turn fatal for us. Luckily, only the Rabid Animals have urinal waste that have a touch of color so it's easy to figure which ones are the non-absorbent type. We try to get rid of those because prevention was better than cure.

"Well, it was a pool on the ground, all purpley and molted. I watched it for a while, it didn't seem like it was going away." Lexie combs strands of black hair away from her face. "So I thought..."

Kytes shrugs. "It's either something else absorbed it, or it really was absorbent after all and just needed more time to soak in."

"Maybe. So then, should we just—EWW, GROSS!"

"What is it—OH YUCK!"

I swat them both to remind them to be quiet and made a mental note to give them extra kitchen clean up duty. Really, do they want a death wish?

"It's just a skeleton—" an animal's. We don't see human skeletons since the earlier days, when we made it a point to try and bury the ones we still could out of respect. "you've seen them before."

"I know—but they're usually not THAT fresh." Lexie frowns.

I have to agree, it's isn't the prettiest thing I've seen. Even the other skeletons weren't as bad. It looked like someone's halfway eaten meal...

Wait.

"Quiet. See if you can hear anything."

Lexie leans back against a tree, Kytes crouches by a bush with me, and we stay still as possible listening out for anything unusual. I know there's something not right here. No animal noises, no birds. Then there's that heavy oppressive silence as though we're being watched very closely. A light breeze blows my fringe into my eyes and I bat it out of the way, frowning. The feeling something being wrong is stronger than ever.

Wait.

The breeze.

It should have rustled the leaves on the trees too. Yet there was no noise. I look up at the tree tops. They're perfectly still. Even as another breeze stirs the forest. Why would that be? Unless the trees are watching us?

I look around the Clearing.

Now that I think about it, the trees do seem slightly closed together than they were. As I watch, an oak sends a root trailing over! What could they be doing?

Unless... The Skeleton.

"RUN!" I grab Kytes and haul him after me, jumping over the oak root and out of the circle of trees.

"Woah now! Trey—what?"

Kytes doesn't have to finish his sentence. A large branch is suddenly in front of us and I'm unable to stop from tripping over it. A root winds itself around my ankle. Kytes is now full aware of the attack as more follow, breaking the surface of the ground to wrap themselves around us.

"I thought they only moved that fast with time lapse photography!"

Kytes takes his survival knife out. "I think this is a bit more serious than time lapse photography!"

Before I could bring out my own Cutlass, some vines grab hold of my forearm. The blond slashes off with precision he mastered, perfectly avoiding cutting my flesh. Lexie wields her double-edged Naginata to cut off vines stretching down from above. I'm still amazed how a girl like her who used to whine about missing cosmetics and other pointless stuff is now so skilled in combat. I think Lexie's weapon type came from some Asian country. I forgot which one. Actually, I even forgot what our own country was called. It seemed like such a long time ago that we used the term country.

I am once again forever grateful of Rhys's brilliant mind. Back then, we could count the weapons we had available to us with two hands. But once we got older, or more to the point, when Rhys got older and smarter, he made used of some books he found to create bladed weapons once we found a steel forging factory. And he had enough books to show him how to forge weapons of different origins. He taught us how to make our own, but most of the time they were poor attempts compared to what Rhys can craft. Now any weapons we need for ourselves and those who keeps coming can be easily accessed and made... Well, maybe not easily made since they still required a lot of effort, but at least we don't have to keep scavenging for usable weapons now. Sure, we could use all those guns and ammunition we got in storage, but we all agreed to save those for a time we might really need to them. Besides, at least with bladed weapons, there's no worries for a shortage of ammunition.

"Kytes, Trey! Do something, they keep coming!"

Kytes slashes his knife to an incoming vine before jumping back. "Uh, and you don't call what we're doing something?" He jumps over a root.

"Less talking, more attacking!" I snap, finishing off the hostile roots at my side and rush to aid Lexie. I make it in time to keep a giant flower bud from chomping her head clean off, barely missing the launch of purple goo it spat out. "Wah?!" I yelp, twirling my head around for a double take, seeing the goo boil through a bush as if it were acid or something, which explained the skeleton. "Okay. Rabid Vegetation's Gastric acid. Just as bad as a Rabid Animal's piss."

Lexie grunts, using her weapon as leverage to get up. "Noted. Next time, try saving my skin without pushing me. I twisted my ankle."

Okay, that was my bad. But it was that or being plant feed. At least she didn't break skin and bleed. Although uncertain, Corrin says fatality is possible if open wounds were exposed to loose Mana energy for more than ten minutes, and I forgot to make sure that we brought bandages with us. That's one strike of careless act for the day. I try to keep that to a minimum, the maximum being three. As the Leader, being extra cautious is an expectation.

"Trey! Help me out here!"

I spin around and saw vines lifting Kytes up, his knife lay useless on the ground. I rush towards him.

By duty, I was responsible for everyone up here as their leader.

As a friend, I was responsible for the blond, I was indebted to him.

When my sister was sick on the day we were going to be released to the surface, he took her place. I also owe it to his older brother, my best friend, who was now taking care of her back in the Underground city.

The vines were so thick that I couldn't slice through it with my Cutlass. I had to use the other way, but how can I with Kytes still in its clutches? A vine grips around my arm and I wince in pain as it tightens on my radius.

"TREY!"

Before I was fully aware of it there was fire flooding all my senses. I lashed out in rage, only vaguely aware of the beeping on my wrist that reminds me to take it easy. The vines holding up Kytes fall away in front of me. Luckily, the blond looked unharmed.

"Get out of the way!"

Thankfully, Kytes seemed to get what was about to happen. He grabs his knife and rolls out of the way. Good, I did not want to be misunderstood now. The two did not take their eyes off me as they back away. I concentrate where I want to have the flames to burst out and the results were no less effective. The Vegetable mutations draws back, leaving us unscathed except for Lexie's twisted ankle, which Corrin can heal no problem. I concentrate on pulling my power back. I look at the device fashioned like a watch that was strapped on my wrist, indicating my energy's exertion level. I see that it's stable and I join the two out of the clearing. Kytes helps her up and supports her weight.

"Code Red?"

I sigh, nodding. "Yes. We had far too many incidents this week alone, this being the twelfth. It's about that time again," It was a little frustrating. Rhys just got a filter working so we could fill a pool with clean water. I guess we have to make the most of it while we're still here. "I don't want anyone hunting till we move. We still have meat stocked so it's not like we have to settle for the vegetables and fruits in Kytes's gardens."

"Hey," The blond scowls. "My produce aren't that bad... are they?"

I smirk. "No Kytes, but if there's a chance to have meat, we want to have some too." I pat his back. "Let's head back."

"Oh, but Trey—" Lexie's eyes rolls up a bit. It signals her using her tracking ability. She's like a built-in GPS system with that. I don't really get it, but she can sense another person's or thing's Mana and Rhys has a theory that the ones who use Mana in their own way also has a unique trademark, like a fingerprint, so to speak. It was a bit unnerving the first time she used it since all you see were her cornea, but if you knew her as long as we have, you get used to it. "—yeah, I sense three guys out hunting nearby already."

I roll my eyes, "Three," I mutter knowingly, and the two share similar looks. "the only one who can get away with not following the group count rule is Meeko, and only if he has Lori and one other person watching his back."

Back then, with the whole idea of 'The rule of three' and it being an optimal number, maybe it would've made sense. But when playing video games and I would choose Party members, to challenge myself, I would pick three only; the MC would still get enough experience points and two characters would be enough to support him in battle. But this isn't a video game with a restart button. Normally when we send out groups for hunts, Five was the permitted number. It's too dangerous any less. Meeko can get away with it since his ability was multiplying himself. Usually, Meeko did most of the work to get it out of his system, being one of those always hyped-up types. Granted, he is one of our best hunters which we would all acknowledge often if he wasn't so rash and impulsive at times. This brings me to his better half, or more reasonable twin brother, Lori who normally didn't like fighting. Unless something or someone he cares for is in danger, he can be provoked to act though.

In our case, well, I thought the three of us would be enough for the Urinal extraction since we weren't really expecting a fight since this wasn't a hunt for food and we are still pretty much near the base, but I guess I didn't account for the fact that trouble would be the one hunting us. Even two persons used to be enough for extractions, but perhaps I neglected to take into consideration the level of experience. Previously, those two persons doing extractions had been either Rhys and myself or Leon and Jonah, the latter pair being eldest of our entire group. I only grabbed Kytes and Lexie this time because they were immediately available, and while I did not question their experience, Kytes was more adept to scouting, and that entailed evasive action, staying in a place only long enough to check its safety and avoiding combat as much as possible. Lexie was used to scavenging, which was gathering any useful items or materials after scouts deemed an area clear for occupying or searching. These two haven't seen combat as often as I have.

Damn, that's a second strike for me. "Where are they exactly?"

"A bit Northeast you'd get to that river, follow it downstream you'll make it to a clearing passed some thicket of bushes. Berry bushes, to be exact, not the good kind. They're at a glade of sorts..." Lexie smirks. "Well, at least the two not going crazy are. But I sense the third more crazier one of them is nearby."

Kytes laughs. "Just make it easier and call him who it most probably is. Even I can figure it's Meeko." he says.

"Okay, you two head back. I'll go fetch them. Kyi, after you take Lexie to the infirmary, go tell Rhys to prepare putting up some warning signs." I instruct. "Suggest Code 3." Carnivorous vegetation.

The blond nods. "Code 3, got it." He lifts Lexie, positioning her on his back in a way that can make him run faster. He takes off and I'm fairly impressed. He's fourteen carrying a sixteen year old while managing a running pace. I guess years of training does that.

I sheath my Cutlass and took off myself.

[raendown]

Happy Christmas everyone! To celebrate: the first chapter of a commission for the ever excellent @writhingbeneathyou! 

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 5957 Chapter: 1/5 Rated: T+ Summary: They wake in a forest far from home. Bodies lay dead and broken across the clearing. All they can remember is their names.(Madara falls in love with a single look.)

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 1

The first bit of reality to intrude itself upon him was the headache. A pounding on the inside of his skull unlike anything he would think the human body was capable of. Either his head was about to spontaneously implode or a herd of elephants had been busy stampeding over his temples while he slept.

Speaking of which, he couldn’t remember falling asleep. Or where he was. Or much of anything, really. Madara kept his eyes closed and extended his senses to the world around him, a natural action that he gave no thought to until he’d already done it and realized he couldn’t remember how he knew to do that. Something, he concluded, was very wrong. Panic threatened to rise up and overwhelm him but it was kept at bay as his senses spread and he encountered what could only be described as a center of calm.

Eyes cracking open, Madara groggily blinked at what appeared to be an open forest canopy above him, sunlight filtering through deep green leaves. When he rolled his head to the side he was met with the sight of a bemused looking man with no pigment in either his skin or his hair. The only colors on him were the red streaks painted on his face and the blue lacquer of his heavy armor. But the feeling of him. Underneath the confusion Madara could somehow feel his presence and the sensations playing against him brought to mind words like ‘ocean’ and ‘still water’ and, most oddly of all, ‘calm home’. Having the other man there calmed the anxiety and the terror of realizing he couldn’t remember a single thing except his own name and by Madara's logic that could only mean one thing.

Clearly they must know each other. Trust each other. Obviously this man was important to him somehow.

Knowing the unstable emotions he himself was experiencing, he decided it would probably be best to wait and see if his companion was going through something similar. If they were both panicking then making sudden movements wouldn’t help anything. He rather hoped the other did know what going on, though. It would be nice to find out what they were doing that led them here and where they were supposed to go now. Where was home?

Waiting turned out to be a good choice. As was the decision to remain prone on the ground as he had been when he awoke. If he’d been standing then he wasn’t sure his knees would not have buckled out from underneath him when the man at his side turned and hit him with a doe eyed look, red irises sparkling in the dappled sunlight. Heart thundering in his chest, Madara blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I think I love you.”

“Ah?”

“Shit, I mean, hi? Do you know where we are? Do you know who we are?”

The man blinked slowly and tilted his head to one side like a confused animal. “No. To both questions. We appear to be in a forest and I feel no hostility at your presence so my first guess would be that we know each other but that’s as much information as I have.” His head lifted to tilt in the other direction. “Do you feel romantically towards me? Perhaps there’s a reason we’re here together.”

He didn’t seem to be panicking the way Madara was. Lucky.

“I feel…attraction. And distress. Not knowing where or who I am isn’t really ideal but I feel like I’m safer with you here. Is that weird?”

“Not if I feel the same, I suppose. Explaining why would be difficult but there is a certain reassurance in your presence. Your…hm. I can’t seem to recall the word for it. The feel of you even though we’re not physically touching.” His companion twisted pale lips from side to side in thought and Madara had to force himself to look away from the movement.

“You feel like cool waters,” he offered, puffing his chest out slightly to receive a pleased look for his efforts.

“Then you understand what I’m talking about, yes. I would describe your presence as smoke and heat with an undercurrent of something sharp. Like the tang of copper on my tongue but more pleasant. Words really do not do it justice.”

Madara hummed with amusement. “How poetic.” Then he grinned when the other man scowled a little.

“Oh shut up.”

Such a transaction between them felt completely natural. Maybe that was how they flirted with each other? It certainly felt like flirting, what with the way the other had turned his head away only to peek back with the echoes of a smile forming at the edge of his lips. His mouth was almost as pretty as his eyes. Madara allowed his gaze to linger there for a few moments, happy that his original assumption of some relationship between them seemed more and more to be true, but eventually he dragged his attention away to focus on other things.

A quick scan told him that the clearing they had woken in was not quite the pristine, undisturbed utopia that he’d gotten a first impression of from staring up at the canopy. The ground close by had been torn up by what could only be human intervention and several of the nearby trees were marked with missing chunks of bark or suspicious stains. Most telling, however, were the bodies. Or rather he should say his reaction to the bodies was the most telling. Several men and women scattered the far side of the clearing in various states of maiming, a few of them charred to a crisp and others removed from certain body parts. Yet here he sat surveying the damage with no bile in his throat, no distaste for the macabre tableau before him, only a very enveloping sort of calm and a vague hope that he had been the cause of so much damage. Whoever did all this must have had fun.

“Do you think there’s any clues to be found here about who we are?” he asked.

“If it helps, I believe my name is Tobi. No…Tobirama.”

“Tobirama.” Madara rolled the name around a few times. “I like the sound of that; you do look like a Tobirama. Mine is Madara, I think.”

A quick once over of his own body revealed very little in the way of identification, though it did reveal that he was wearing a headband with the same symbol etched in to it as the happuri Tobirama was wearing. Yet another sign that they were connected in some way or at least part of a group together. It was nice to know he belonged somewhere.

Having traded names and found no other identification on themselves the two set about exploring the carnage around them. Bodies were turned over, dismembered heads were rolled closer to the epicenter, and pockets were rifled through. They found a lot of interesting tidbits yet at the end of it all Madara couldn’t say he knew any more about what happened than he had when he sat up and looked at the scene for the first time. Or maybe the second time. Clearly if he’d woken up here then he must have passed out here at some point so he probably saw this all happen even if he didn’t remember it right now. Hopefully he would soon.

With no idea where they had come from the next thing to do was decide where to go, made harder by the fact that they had no idea either where they were or what direction they might find some sort of town in. After a quick debate Tobirama mentioned that he was pretty sure he could feel a large collection of other presences off to the east so, without any better options, they headed that way. It took a couple hours but eventually Madara too was able to feel the massive collection of other ‘people sensations’ as he had dubbed them in his head. Even if no one there knew them maybe someone could explain how the hell he was feeling where people were without being able to see them.

The town, when they finally arrived, was of no help in any of the regards he was hoping for. By the way many of the people were looking at them he had assumed someone would be able to provide an identity of some sort but their questions were all met with evasive answers and vague words about shinobi. His guess was that ‘shinobi’ meant some kind of warrior but obviously they had figured as much for themselves. The armor and the battlefield were enough hints for that.

All hope was not lost, however, as one person did manage to give them a bit of information by accident, cursing them as the ‘beasts of Konoha’ which Madara had to admit was a pretty cool moniker. He really hoped that was actually their name and not just a superstitious insult of some kind. Konoha at least gave them a point of inquiry to keep asking around and despite the many strange looks they continued to get eventually someone helpfully sketched out a map on a teahouse napkin to show them where the village was located. Tobirama held the little napkin in a firm yet careful grip as they thanked the man, both of them happy to have a name for a place that might be home.

Unfortunately the journey there was supposed to be ‘three days by their speeds’, whatever that was supposed to mean, so there was still quite a bit of time left before they found more answers. Travelling wasn’t so bad with such a captivating companion at his side but Madara did wish he could get rid of the nagging feeling at the back of his mind telling him that he was forgetting something. He was more than aware that he’d forgotten something.

He’d forgotten everything.

Still, things weren’t terrible with Tobirama there. They made easy conversation as they wandered their way through what they eventually learned was called Fire Country in direct opposition of the rains threatening them over the course of their entire journey. Thankfully the deluge managed to hold itself in check until they found an inn on the second day, at which point it came pouring down from the sky as though the gods were angry and this their chosen vengeance. Scowling out through the window, hoping this stupid weather was over by the time they set out tomorrow, Madara thought to himself that it was a fairly effective vengeance. Water could be dangerous. Obviously he couldn’t think of any specific reason for him to think that but it was a knowledge he felt deep in his bones.

“Oh.” A soft exclamation from behind drew his attention probably faster than a loud shout would have. Madara spun to find Tobirama with his eyes wide and his hands out in front of him bearing a small mountain of scrolls that he could swear had not been in the room before.

“Where did you get those?” he asked.

“From my arm.”

Madara blinked. “What?”

“This tattoo here on my wrist.” Tobirama nodded vaguely in the direction of his left hand. “It doesn’t match the rest of the markings on my body so I was tracing it and it felt like there was some energy coming from it. What else was I supposed to do? I tried to imitate the energy. Then suddenly I’m holding an armful of scrolls that- I swear they just popped in to existence!”

“I believe you. I just…can’t believe you.” He shrugged when Tobirama gave him an exasperated look, unsure how else to phrase it.

So far Tobirama hadn’t shown himself to be the lying sort but there was an undeniably fantastical element to the idea that scrolls – or anything really – could just poof themselves in to existence. To make up for his lack of faith he moved over to help set all the scrolls down so they could sort through the mess and figure out what extra madness they had just materialized. From thin air. As one does.

Madara couldn’t say whether it was normal or not so he elected not to get all worked up about it.

For the most part each of the scrolls were fairly identical with only minor differences. A few of them had actual writing covering the parchment but the rest all depicted the same large sprawling pattern of concentric circles and kanji that didn’t seem connected to each other in any significant way. What differentiated them was the small list in the bottom left corner of each scroll. One list contained toiletry items, another listed all the necessities for camping out in the woods, and yet another contained a list of foods that Madara's empty stomach would have appreciated very much just then. Without any money they’d been filling their bellies with whatever edible flora they happened across on their journey. Ironically money was listed on one of the scrolls as well.

“Wish we could make this shit poof in to existence as well,” he grumbled to himself, rereading the food list and listening to his stomach growl. Tobirama lifted the scroll in his own hands and squinted at the design.

“This looks remarkably similar to the design on my wrist. I wonder…”

He spread a random scroll out across the single bed they had paid for by working in the kitchen for a few hours each. Before Madara could ask him to finish his train of thought he was spreading his hand out on the design and pushing against the parchment, reaching for it in a way Madara couldn’t describe even as he felt it happening. A moment later they both cried out in surprise as an open bag of toiletries appeared in a puff of smoke, falling over to spill its contents on to the threadbare covers.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Tobirama admitted. “Although in retrospect I realize that I should have been.”

“TOOTHPASTE!” Awe and mystery dissipated like smoke in favor of snatching up the small white tube of heaven and darting in to the bathroom. There was no telling which of those toothbrushes had been his own but Madara didn’t care. He had ten perfectly healthy fingers to rub the paste across his teeth, cleaning his mouth out with more than river water for the first time in days. When he came back out Tobirama was visibly trying to contain his laughter.

“Always nice to see one’s efforts appreciated,” he said.

Madara flushed. “Yeah. Thanks. That’s…a really neat trick you’ve figured out.”

“Indeed. Now that I know how to remove items from these scrolls I believe we should have access to whatever is listed in the corner of each. The only problem is that I’m not sure how to get the items back in to whatever pocket dimension they’re stored in.”

“Pocket dimension?”

His companion shrugged. “An assumption. I can’t imagine how else things could appear out of nowhere like that if they’re not stored somewhere.”

“Well maybe they exist somewhere else and that funky design just…moves them. From there to here. Like an instant transport through that pocket dimension instead of being stored inside it. Would that make sense?” Madara fought down the urge to squirm as Tobirama’s head swung around to pin him in place.

“I have never found you more attractive.”

“Uh?”

“Sorry. I don’t know where that came from. Okay I lied, I’m not sorry, you being smart is incredibly attractive and I suddenly have very little interest in experimenting with these scrolls anymore. Do you want to make out instead?”

None of the words trying to come out of his mouth seemed to be working properly so Madara settled for nodding frantically and throwing himself across the bed. It probably wasn’t his most graceful move ever but as far as his memory went this was his first kiss and Tobirama didn’t seem to mind his bumbling too much so he chose not to focus on anything other than the feeling of pale lips under his own and the sound of toiletries scattering as they were pushed off the bed. A little enthusiasm never hurt anyone.

As they had for the last couple of nights the two of them shared blankets when they went to sleep, though their rather enthusiastic kisses did not lead to anything more intimate. Madara tried not to ask himself whether they might have if they had any oil or other lubricants. That was one ‘what if’ he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. Waking up in the morning was a slow lazy process with dark hair wrapped around their limbs and another round of slow kisses to drag them both out of dreamland and be ready for the day ahead. The more time they spent together the more it became obvious that their first instincts were right. Surely they must have been in a relationship for quite some time before whatever incident took their memories. They fit too well together for anything else to be true.

Madara wanted to preen every time he thought about it. Clearly Tobirama was a great catch and he was the one who caught the man. He wished he knew whose face to rub that in.

The stranger who sent them towards Konoha had told them it would only be a three day journey but they must have somehow been travelling much too slow since it actually ended up taking them double that to find themselves on the edge of quite an impressive looking village surrounded by thick walls and nearly overwhelming on both of their senses. The only way in without jumping those walls seemed to be through a set of massively tall gates where two soldier types were standing guard, bodies languid but their eyes alert for anything.

“You think we’re allowed in?” Madara asked from one corner of his mouth.

“Supposedly we live here,” Tobirama pointed out. “We can only be right or wrong and we won’t know which until we attempt to gain entry.”

“Right. Here goes nothing.”

Wrapping himself in as much confidence as he could muster Madara stepped out from the cover of the forest and headed straight for that much too tall gate, keeping his eyes straight ahead in an attempt to give the impression that he knew he belonged here. Tobirama’s presence just a step behind did wonders to keep him calm as they approached the guards but to his amazement none of his worrying had been necessary. One of the women nodded to him while the other lifted a hand in silent greeting. Neither of them made a move to deny entrance or even really seemed to give them a second glance. Madara felt rather like a secret infiltrator as they continued on to streets positively teeming with people from all walks of life, civilians rubbing elbows with shinobi, craftsmen sharing space with the village elite. Not one of them suspected the two pretenders who had just walked in amongst their numbers.

It took a bit of dodging to get back out of the crowds but Tobirama managed to find an opening to pull him down an alleyway so they could talk about what their next move should be. If they had been using their brains they would have discussed this beforehand but both of them had been just a little too excited to finally find a place they might call home, to find answers to the growing list of questions they had about themselves. After a long discussions laying out all the possible paths for them to take they decided together that it would probably be best for them to seek out whoever was in charge of this place. The man they spoke to in that first town had referred to them as the beasts of Konoha, which implied a certain notoriety, and that in turn meant rank. Following that logic, if they were highly ranked in this place then they should be recognizable to the ones in charge.

As it turned out, they were right. Much more right than they could have imagined.

“Tobi! Mads! Thank the ancestors!” Watching the man behind the desk stand up from his seat was like watching a tree sprout in fast motion; it was almost a surprise that he didn’t hit the ceiling when he leapt over the massive desk to hurl himself across the room in their direction. Heading for the center of the town had been a good idea. “You guys were due back a full week ago, I was so worried that something had happened!”

“Funny you should say that,” Tobirama murmured, his eyes skittering to the side to meet with Madara's. When they looked back the tree of a man in front of them was clasping both hands around thick chunks of his long brown hair.

“Oh no! What happened? Is everything okay? You both look okay! But then if you’re not injured what took so long for you to get back? Please say neither of you is hiding any injuries again because I swear I will cry on you for at least an hour!” The serious tone of voice made it clear he was not telling a joke but Madara still squinted at him to make sure he was serious. What a ridiculous threat. Yet judging by the wetness already gathering in the man’s eyes he could guess that it was a threat he was indeed prepared to follow through on.

Resisting the urge to take a step away from the oddball before them, Madara cleared his throat to take attention away from his partner, sacrificing himself instead. “No physical injuries, just a bit of, ah, mental complications.”

“I’m afraid to ask what that means…you guys weren’t fighting again were you?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Tobirama assured the man. “We’re as happy as ever.”

For whatever reason that seemed to bring him up short. A look of suspicion narrowed his wide brown eyes, darting back and forth between them, until eventually Madara couldn’t take it anymore. Something about that face demanded honesty. There was a sort of naivety there one might expect on a child and it was only compounded by the way he was still clasping both hands under his chin.

“We sort of lost our memories. Both of us. Can’t remember shit. Well, we remembered our names and we know we’re dating but that’s about it. Someone had to point us back here; couldn’t even remember where we came from.”

Considering the shocking nature of his news he could totally understand the choked spluttering, though he rather wished the man would be a little less dramatic about it. A bit of surprise was fine – hell, a lot of surprise was fine – but he would have preferred not to have the man’s spittle rain over their faces as he tried to find the words to react to their situation. Madara was rather proud of himself for keeping his temper in check until finally the choking ended.

“Yes! Dating! And names! Very good, very – ah – we should get you both to a healer!” His eyes almost seemed ready to fall out of his head as he took them both by the arm and stepped towards the door only to stop dead. “Wait, I’m a healer. Let’s sit you both down!”

“Perhaps you could start with introducing yourself?” Tobirama suggested.

“Brother! I’m your- my name is Hashirama. You’re my little brother. And Madara is my best friend!”

“All in the family then, I suppose.”

For whatever reason Tobirama’s words set off another round of spluttering but at least this time there was no spray of saliva. “Oh. Ha ha. You could say that! Hey, until we get you both a little more caught up on whatever you’ve forgotten maybe you shouldn’t talk to anyone else? You never know, erm, what you might accidentally give away to the wrong person. Since you’re both so high profile and all.”

“What could we possibly give away when we can’t remember anything?” Madara scoffed but stopped when Tobirama laid a hand on his wrist.

“No, he’s got a point. There may be information we don’t even realize we remember and a breach of security like that could be detrimental. I say we humor him.” All it took was lifting one eyebrow and he had Madara wrapped around his finger yet again, trading smiles like it was their first date.

When they looked back at Hashirama to agree with his idea he was staring at them bug-eyed.

“Right. Glad that’s…cleared up. Sit down, please, sit down. I’ll look you both over as much as I can and you can ask your questions. We might have to get a Yamanaka in here to look deeper but maybe I can help on my own.” His ushering took on a little more of a frantic feeling. Maybe he didn’t like their PDA, which Madara supposed he could understand if Tobirama really was his brother. If he had siblings he probably wouldn’t want to watch them getting fresh with someone else right there in front of him.

“Some answers would be appreciated,” he admitted as he and Tobirama sank down on to a rather squashy yellow couch. “Right now all we know is our names and yours. Catch us up a little more, the most important things we should know, that sort of thing.”

“Oh there’s lots of things you should know…”

Indeed there was. Evidently Madara really did have a brother, the last surviving of four. The village of Konoha was only three years old and he had helped build it after Hashirama and he conceived of the idea as children. Children! From warring clans! Theirs must be a particularly strong friendship to survive so many years and the enmity of their people. He was grinning smugly as the man continued filling them in on any other pertinent information such as their living situation – apparently he and Tobirama were not living together yet, an actual travesty – and their actual positions within the governing body. After covering their family situations and the fact that both of them were also technically heads of their clans Hashirama sat back with a baffled expression on his face.

Madara decided he did not like that expression. The green glow of chakra – now that Hashirama had jogged his memory on what chakra was called – faded from his hands as they dropped to fiddle with each other restlessly in his lap.

“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. “We might have to get a Yamanaka to check you guys out after all because I just can’t find anything wrong. None of your neural pathways are misfiring, there’s no injury in the area, so as far as I can see there’s no reason for either of you to have lost your memories.”

“How comforting,” Tobirama murmured.

“Yeah, just what I need. Another stranger poking around in my head.” Madara instantly felt a flash of guilt when Hashirama crumpled, though he refused to let it show on his face.

“But I’m not a stranger, not to either of you!”

Leaning a little closer to his partner, Madara grunted. “Best friends, yes, I heard you. I just don’t remember right now and it’s a really freaky experience. Imagine not even knowing you had siblings? Or that three of them were already in the ground? I’m sure that devastated me when it happened but right now? It means nothing to me. And it feels weird that it means nothing to me!”

Tobirama patted his knee consolingly and that helped a little. Apparently they both had brothers to mourn yet all Madara could think about was how odd it was for two families to have so many children yet not a daughter in sight. That probably wasn’t the part he was meant to focus on. Either his guilt must have shown on his face or Hashirama could sense that something had made him uncomfortable because the man was up in the next moment and gently encouraging them to stay here in this office while he sent for someone who would apparently be able to help them figure out what had happened to their memories. Madara couldn’t say he regretted seeing the man go but neither was he particularly relieved. Knowing intellectually that they were best friends did little to automatically recreate the bond he was sure they had forged over the years.

Simply put, Hashirama meant no more or less to him than any other average person off the street.

As soon as they were alone he turned to his partner and pulled Tobirama in for a slow kiss, drinking in the pleased hum that rumbled up in response. When they parted Tobirama rested their foreheads together with an adorably dopey look in his eyes.

“What was that for?”

“Needed to feel something a little more familiar,” Madara grunted, a little embarrassed.

“Happy to provide that any time you need it.” His partner leered and Madara shoved him lightly, though he did nothing to hide the smile parting his lips.

Since there wasn’t much else to keep them occupied while they waited for Hashirama to return Madara decided there was really no harm in getting a few more kisses to pass the time. It was an effective distraction, enough so that neither of them were the least bit bored and even managed to forget their surroundings for Hashirama's return to startle them. The feeling of his presence felt a lot like empty woods somehow so maybe it wasn’t that odd for neither of them to feel his approach but the woman he had brought with him had a very sharp sensation like needles waiting for the order to pierce.

“Very interesting,” was all she had to say. Instead of greeting either of them she moved to stand over the couch with both hands on her hips and a narrow-eyed look on her face which screamed ‘scientific observations’. Tobirama didn’t seem very put off by it but Madara couldn’t say he cared for being watched like that.

“Did we know you?” he asked, his tone as blunt as her gaze.

“Very well. We scream at each other in council meetings all the time. You hate my guts, Uchiha-san, but perhaps when you regain your memories this will stand as proof that I am not the heartless harpy you seem to think I am.”

“I think the words he usually uses are ‘heartless robot’,” Hashirama chipped in helpfully. Then he melted back with a sheepish expression as all three of them turned to raise an eyebrow in almost perfect sync. Nervous, apologetic, he waved them back to their conversation and indicated that he would be out of the way somewhere over by his desk.

After watching to make sure that he did intend to stay out of her way the woman turned back to them and introduced herself as the matriarch of the Yamanaka clan. She gave no name so Madara supposed she must expect a certain formality between them, which was fine. He didn’t need her to be super cuddly with him. All she needed to do was tell him what happened to his memories. To do that she had to get right up in his personal space, however, and while he didn’t appreciate that he did his best to stay still like she asked while two clammy hands took hold of his head and foreign chakra seeped in to his mind.

Whatever she got up to in there was not a pleasant experience for him. Nothing really solid came to him but a few disjointed images flashed behind his eyes and several rounds of colorful light before finally the presence in his head receded and he realized he had a death grip on Tobirama’s hand to keep him steady. He shook himself to clear away the sensation of having someone else inside a part of him that should always remain solitary, looking back to his partner to find a grimly resigned expression looking back. No words were needed for Tobirama to understand that his turn would not be fun but neither did they need to speak for Madara to nod that he would be here as Tobirama had been for him. They were a team.

From the tight grip that took his hand he gathered that his guesses were right and the experience of whatever this woman was doing was no more pleasant for Tobirama than it had been for him. His only comfort was that she didn’t look particularly worried or upset when she finally pulled away and his partner was free to shake himself clear of her the same way he had, the same vague irritation furrowing between those pale white brows.

“I have good news and medium news.”

“Oh thank goodness, I was hoping there would be no bad news.” Hashirama wiped his brow as if he had actually been sweating with stress, oblivious to the judgmental eye of the Yamanaka woman.

“Yes, most people hope for that,” she said. “The good news is that this state is not permanent and I was able to find the cause.”

Tobirama sat forward intently. “But not remove it?”

“No and that would be the medium news. There is a fine net of chakra layered over the same portion of both your brains and its purpose seems to be inhibiting long term recall.  Removing it would be a delicate process and we would run the risk of damaging the area. However, given enough time the chakra should deteriorate and be dissolved by your own so it’s simply a matter of waiting and your memories will be returned to you. Days or weeks or even months, I cannot say.”

“I think I am on Hashirama's side in this,” Tobirama mused. “At least none of that was truly bad news.”

“Wow.” Hashirama let out a low whistle.

“What?”

“You’re never on my side!”

Madara burst out laughing. Suddenly it felt a lot more natural to see the two of them as brothers. That certainly sounded like something an older brother would say. He hoped he had the same kind of relationship with his own insofar unknown sibling.

The two of them began to bicker and Madara settled himself against the back of the couch to listen with a smile hovering around the edges of his lips. He may not have known to come here until the way was pointed out for him but he was glad that he had made it; this place felt like home. It was hard to put his finger on why but he wasn’t all that concerned with questioning his own feelings or looking at them too deeply. Just having the emotions was enough, they didn’t need explanations.

Knowing that his memories would eventually come back on their own was enough too, surprisingly. As long as he had Tobirama with him they could ride this wave together until they reached the shore and all was well again. Obviously one of them would be staying at the others house until they could remember whose they actually spent more time at, Madara wasn’t really picky where since neither house held any particular meaning for him at the moment, but if he had his way Tobirama would spend as little time out of his sight as possible for the next while. That Yamanaka woman hadn’t been very specific on how long this unsettling emptiness in his mind would last.

But, he reminded himself with calming certainty, this too would end. As all things must.

[xxbunnyboy]

Lent tentacle frick concept frick

Tonight is the night, you’ve finally done it. Here you are sitting in the middle of a pentagram chanting some random mantra you’ve found online and have mad your own. each of the 5 points of the pentagram have a special item attached to them, some rope and chains, a flogger, vampire teeth, lingerie in your size and a Rose. Sitting there squirming as you cut your hand with the fancy blade your blood dripping into the bowl bellow as you squeeze. 

waking up you find yourself bound and wearing the lingerie that was laid out by the pentagram but the last thing you remember is your blood dripping into the bowl, this had to be a dream no way had this actually worked. Thats when you see it the shadowy figure in the corner watching you, your minds still cloudy and for whatever reason you just cant make out their face or maybe you are to focused on the sway of their hips as they make their way towards you. finally their they are standing directly over top of you and all you can do is squirm, you still cant believe this had really worked but were confused yet aroused by the predicament. your thoughts empty as they start to talk to you, nothing making sense at first until slowly morphing into english language. the first actual first sentence was very comforting and re assuring albeit in a slightly sinister way, “shh i know exactly why you have summoned me, theres no need for thoughts with me. just focus on breathing and ill make this a night you never forget.” They spoke with an accent you had never quite heard before comforting but a constant hint of a threat. 

Thats when it happened your head was finally quiet for once and you could finally see. In front of you stood a beautiful yet perfectly imperfect body, it wasn't like barbie had appeared in front of you more like a Goddess an amazonian had appeared. seductive but very real and built for battle. still though for all of there flaws you couldn't take your eyes off of them. 

They noticed that hunger in your eyes as you watched them though, taking a seat next to where you laid helplessly. “you humans only want one thing and want it over with as fast as possible, you are in for a long night with me in charge. I hope you were as prepared as you though.” With that a wicked grin appeared and sharp nails made their way up and down your thighs, you squirmed and pleaded yet that seemed to be the exact reaction they were looking for. “thats it continue to focus on breathing, it feels so good doesn't it? oh I know it does and you just seem so frustrated already.” You couldn't help but to blush at their words as you continued to squirm, letting out a noise you had never made before as their hand brushed across your need. 

They must have decided they wanted to have more fun with you because they got up and started undoing your binds, they kept a close watch on you as you stretched out, offering you a cup of water in the mean time. once they had decided it had been enough time they instructed you to strip, you blushed and hid yourself as you slowly got yourself naked. They laughed at your shy blush, “come now you summoned me here but wont let me see all of you, remove your hands and slowly spin for me. Let me see all of you, I promise only good will come of it.” You did as you were told face a beat red still not believing all of this. They ushered you over to their lap and drug you across it, giving you playful but firm swats just because they could. Praising you for not fighting them and doing as you were told.

Now they had you on their lap, directly across from a mirror though you weren't actually paying attention to it yet. The only instructions being whispered in your ear were, “Don’t hold back. I would like you to be vocal, try to stay relaxed for me. close your eyes and get lost in the pleasure.” your eyes suddenly getting heavy as they spoke, shutting them and feeling almost like you were floating. legs and arms spread out as you started to tingle. pleasure slowly filling your whole body. right as the anticipation hits its peak everything stops. you cant help but to whine and open up your eyes.

Thats when you see it, the mirror thats been in front of you this whole time revealing the demons true form. much larger than the human body that had been there they looked to be 8ft tall but more concerning were the tentacles wrapped around your limbs holding you in the air. you blinked hoping your mind was playing tricks but there they still were, you had summoned a demon after all. It had to have been the water you thought no way this had taken a turn. “they looked at you and laughed “oh you poor thing, got more than you bargained for? not to worry the fun is just starting, now that you can really see me i can use my tentacles for some extra fun.”

There was no fighting this and it had already been so pleasurable. You asked them to continue not that you had a choice still bound in the air by tentacles. the two remaining free tentacles swirled around you exploring every inch of sensitive skin. continuing to tease as one hand wrapped around your throat. “be a good toy and put that mouth to use for me.” You didnt have time to protest as a tentacle forced its way into your mouth, you gagged and choked but they didnt care as it just slipped in and out taking a string of saliva with it every time it exited your mouth.

At this point you were dripping with need and they knew you were oh so desperate for them. the tentacle from the mouth took some spit down to their hand and promptly returned back to the mouth. yelping as much as you could as their fingers started to push there way inside you, getting you nice and slick and stretched out for them. your arms getting brought behind your back so one tentacle could hold them as the other started fucking your ass. you feel so full yet so good, loosing yourself covered in your own spit and being empty headed. 

Dripping wet you cant help yourself but to beg to be touched. the demon obliges by taking a tentacle to your need. you feel so good it only takes seconds to be on edge, somehow they know this and stop perfectly only to slowly start slowly fucking your ass again. this repeats for what seems like hours until you are a shaking mess covered in bites, bruises and your own saliva. The demon whispers, “I think youve had enough and I want to thank you so much for being my toy, now lets give you a glorious orgasm.” once again the tentacles build up your need up perfectly, Filling up all your wholes and cumming in you as you have a full body orgasm.

You think you must have passes out when you wake up naked on your bed like nothing had even happened. had it all been the most vivid sex dream you ever had or had you really just had your soul snatched with the best orgasm ever from a demon? you spend all day thinking about it not knowing the answer until finally you get back home. there sits on the middle of the bed two letters, one telling you how much fun the night had been and how good you were the other a contract of some kind. would you sign it and sign your life away to the demon or go on and forget everything that had happened to you.

[dimensionwriter]

Wrapped Around Your Finger: Valentine Edition

M! Naga x Genderless Reader

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Every year, it's exactly the same thing. Friendly smiles as people say the same thing and the day just seems to move even slower.

The day consisted of watching as people walk around with gifts as they walked next to their signifcant other. But you, well you just stood by in the loner corners staring at them with envy and jealousness. You didn't hate them. You just hated how it was rubbed in your face how single you were.

Which was your primary reason for trying to break down your neighbor door.

"Jesus, what's with you trying to break apart my house? I just got the window fix," Corel whined almost slamming the door open. He seem to have just woken up from nap considering his attire.

His black curls were splayed across his head covering up his dark green eyes. A dark purple streak went around a single curl of hair, something the two of you did because you were bored. His torso was covered by a black muscle shirt that seem a little tight. For pants, he just had on a simple pair of black basketball shorts with a purple trim.

"I dont want to be alone, so we are going to spend the rest of the day together," you demanded walking past him into his house. You were instantly hit with a wall of a sweet smell.

"Hold up," he said running in front of you. Your entire view of the house was blocked off by him. "Umm, how we hang at your house for now then we can come back later?"

He put his arm against the wall behind you causing you to back up towards the exit a little. His hair had moved showing that his eyes weren't green but were the yellow snake eyes.

"Why would we do that? We are literally in your house now," you said emphasizing your point with your hands pointing to space the two of you were occupying.

"Well-um. My house is a complete mess," he said with his eyes shining with relief. He does realize that he's an open book to read and sucks at lying.

"It looks fine to me," you said leaning over to see under his arm. His living room looks almost spotless, like he had cleaned it. The only thing that looked out of place was one pillow laying down on the couch. Probably where he fell asleep.

"Nope. It's disgusting," he yelled blocking your view with his body. "I've been shedding and there is skin on almost all surfaces. You just can't see it with your human eyes."

Your eyes narrowed at the last statement. "Don't snakes have horrible eye sight," you asked remebering doing some research over snakes when you found out about him.

His cheeks slowly turn red as he looked away from you. "Shut up. I have pretty good eyesight. I just have some trouble seeing certain things," he grumbled with his cheeks puffing out. You stuck you finger out a poked his soft cheeks.

"Shut up about your blindess and tell me the real reason why you don't want me in your house?" you asked crossing your arm. He usually just let's you in and just hang out with you.

"No reason. I was... just joking. How about you come in so we can watch a movie and you can tell me why you are upset?" He said quickly moving behind you. His large cold hands gripped onto your shoulders as he led you to his couch.

He gently pushed you onto the couch with this uneasy smile on his face. Why is he acting so weird?

"Corel you have a bunch of beautiful smiles, but that one is not one of them," you said giving him an quirked eyebrow. Corel cheeks started to darken again as he avoided your eyes.

"Sorry. But can you please stay here and don't move. I will be right back," he said holding his hand out as if you were some sort of dog. He's only making you more curious, but guess you play along.

You shooed him off with you hand as you snuggled down into his couch. His couch is the most comfortable thing you have ever felt. No wonder you always fall asleep on it.

"I'll be back quick," he rushed out walking backwards before turning around and sprinting towards the kitchen door. He burst through it causing it to swing wide open. You tilted your head back to get a peak of anything that he could be hiding, but he stopped the door from swining in all the way with his feet.

Corel has been a little odd since you find out about him being half snake. But it has never been this bad. At first he avoided talking about anything reptile. After a while he grew okay with it, but struggled to be his true self around him. It took a couple of tickle fights and compliments fest for him to be okay. Some days he has high confidence and other it's a pain for him to even see a scale.

"I brought some pop corn," he yelled behind you. You looked behind to see he was sliding across the floor. His black iridescent scales seem to mix in with the darkness of his house.

"I see you changed," you joked pointing at the tail. He let out an akward laugh as he sat down beside you. His tail slowly slides up the couch and started to curl into a pile. From the new angle, you could see the dark purple underneath peaking out.

"It seem like you like my tail more than me. So , be happy," he said letting the tail unwind and slide over towards you. The tail slowly laid across your lap letting you feel the cool sensation through your clothes.

"Well, who can not want to look at this beautiful thing," you said picking the tail up and shoving it in his face. A smile covered his face as you could hear laughter rumbling in the back of his throat.

"I know I'm beautiful, but please do contain yourself," he said using the tip of his tail to tap your chin. You eyes narrowed at that stupid smirk on his face.

You open the palms of you hands causing the tail to fall from your grips and slam into you thighs. Corel's body jumped as his pupils turned to slits.

"Hey careful. You're working with delicate material," he hissed playfully at you. You suppressed your laughter as you tried to keep up the act.

"It feels cheap to me," you bit back. He let out a dramstic gasp as he looked at you with the most offended glare. The laughter escaped you at your best friend face.

Corel let out a deep laughter, finally breaking with you. He lifted up his arm and threw it over your shoulder. He leaned you towards him until you were laying on his chest.

Valentines may not have ended with you in the arms of a lover. But being able to joke and have fun with your best friend is good enough.

Tired, confused, and slightly hungry, you woke up to hear a bunch of footsteps and whispering around you. You open your eyes to see you were laying down on Corel's couch, but the whispering you were hearing didn't belong to Corel's.

You looked down to see that the door was wide open. You could see the outline of Corel leaning over with his human legs back. There seem to be a man on the other side that was doing the whispering.

You stayed still as you strain you eyes to see what's happening. The man moved away what looked to be a clipboard and Corel nodded. The newcomer reached behind him and handed something to Corel. He gave Corel a friendly wave before walking away.

Corel spun around to reveal that he was holding a boquet of red roses. They were wrapped in a black and purple ribbon with clear plastic covering the ends of the roses.

Who were those for? Did Corel already have plans for tonight? Maybe that why he was trying to get you out of the house? You really just force Corel to deal with your lonliness instead of being with his significant other. How bad of a friend are you?

Corel's eyes drifted over to you. His pupils turned in slits as his eyes widen. With lighting speed, Corel hid the bouquet behind his back.

"You're awake," he squeaked out before coughing. He used his left arm to cover his mouth as his eyes drifted anywhere, but you.

"You could have told me you had some plans," you grumbled feeling like crap. You sat up and a blanket slowly slid off you. He put a blanket over you while you slept. Here he is being the best friend and you've been nuisance for him. "I'll leave."

"Wait, no," he yelled running front if you. You jumped at how fast he moved. He really moves like a snake, even when in human form. "I don't have plans for tonight."

You eyebrows dropped as you obviously moved your eyes to boquet of roses peaking out behind him. Why would he buy a thing of roses for? Maybe his mom?

"Well, I mean. I do have plans with someone, but they're already here," he mumbled giving you a shy smile. He brought the roses forward and held them out to you.

Fresh water, soft perfume, and earthy scent all hit you at once. You looked down to see the most perfect boquet of red roses ever seen. But in the center was a single black rose with slight purple ends.

"I-I-what?" You squeak feeling heat travel up your face. You looked up to see Corel and his dilated pupils staring down at you with the biggest smile ever.

"They're for you. I was gonna surprise you with this stuff later today, but you came over earlier than I expected. And then you feel asleep, so I tried to be sneaky, but I failed at that," he rambled using his free hand to nervously scratch the back of his neck.

"You got me roses," you mumbled starring at them. He pushes them more towards and you took the silent hint. You reached forward and grabbed them slowly, scared that if you moved too much, you make wake up from this paradise. "Why?"

"Well, because you stayed with me even after learning I'm not completely human and didn't call Area-51 to take me off," you laughed at the joke as you hugged the flowers," and you're my bestest friend in the world. I wasn't gonna let you feel lonely on the day of love, when you deserve all the love the world can offer."

You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying. When was the last time someone was this considerate of you. When was the last time someone put this much effort for you.

"Corel, I don't know what to say," you croaked out trying your hardest to keep down that tear. You were not going to be that person that cries over a bouquet of flowers. Even if they are very thoughtful and the best thing in the world.

"Wait, I'm not done. Follow me," he said with his smile widening. He reached down for your arn and gently pulled you up. He turned around and kept his grip on you, but it slide down to your hand.

He started moving towards the kitchen with you trailing behind him with your hand wrapped in his. He stopped in front of the door and spun around. He seem to be so giddly to show you what's behind thr door.

"Before you enter, I just want you to know that baking videos are a lord savior to me," he joked giving you a swift wink. Before you could question what that statement meant or why your heart skipped a beat at the wink, he pushed open the door.

The entire kitchen was decorated with red hearts and candles burning in the corner, prooducing a soft mood. But on every surface was your favorite sweets along with some of your favorite food.

You didn't even try to stop the tears that fell from your eyes as you looked back at Corel. His gazed soften as he looked at your tear stained face. His pupils expanded to the point where you couldn't see any of the yellow, but that didn't matter. Because standing infront of you was the best person in the world, not matter what species in the world.

"I love you so much," you choked out as a smile made it's way to your face. A pink hue spreaded rapidly over Corel's cheeks as he stared at you.

"Love you too," he said opening his arms. You didn't even think twice before running into his arms. Your face slammed into his firm chest as your arms wraoped around his torso.

You tried to think of the roses in you hand, but you felt so many emotions that you were trying to express with this one hug. But it won't do.

He wrapped his arns on your waist an pulled you closer to him. You could smell that cologne that you always loved on him along with his natural smell. It smelled right, it smelled like home.

"Happy Valentine, love," he whispered placing a kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes as his cool lips pressed against your warm face.

And a Happy Valentine it should be.

Part 3

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I apologize if this is crap. I've written this while tired. I felled asleep twice just copying pasting onto his. I hope I didn't mess up anything. Anyway, Happy Valentines.

[ineffable0husbands]

How the Mighty Have Fallen: Chapter Five

Warnings: Panic attacks, crying, alcohol use, mentions of pain, amnesia, and anxiety

Ship(s): Ineffable Husbands 

tag list:  @adoratato @iamdevilantlysatan @bri-cas @that-gender-bender@scum-of-the-earth @pieces-of-annedrew @scampycatty4999 @elrilsf @my-emo-child @always-reading2 @larrklopp @l-garnxtt @halbarryislife@ninjacatinsanitycrazy @impossiblynervouscycle @audder17@theratatethekingsclothes @boredafsposts @i-really-dig-the-purple@mycrappylife01 @lostwolf-fandomlover @hamiltrashphannerd@she-who-must-not-be-named @sundry-whovengerslocked @deceitfullyanxiousprince e @booklover223@twdlover03 @drunkinfandomstuff @nimsy1920 @catsarebestest @sonic-spade @reprehensibleghost

Author’s note: tumblr user @sundry-whovengerslocked has been an absolute savior as I’ve written this fic! I would be more than happy to call her a coauthor because of all the ideas she’s helped me with. She helped me with much of the last chapter, and this chapter as well. Give her some love!

Aziraphale ended up being gone much longer than he intended to. A group of teenage boys had come into the bookshop genuinely interested in the books and of course, the angel indulged them as they went through the shop. The children had ended up being there for hours, and Aziraphale had sadly but willingly parted with a few books from his precious collection. It was worth seeing those young men light up with pure joy as a book they’d wanted to read but had never been able to find were all right there for them to have. Then, he’d gotten distracted by the most adorable little ducklings in the park. He threw them a few pieces of bread and then quickly hurried on home.

 It was about 5:30, and Aziraphale knew that despite the note he left, Crowley most likely hadn’t put the lasagna in the oven. Oh, well, they would just have to eat slightly later than usual. He really hoped that Crowley was home, he’d been worried enough to see that his love had slipped out of the house without him noticing. If Crowley wasn’t back when Aziraphale got to the flat, the angel knew he would panic. Hell was a bad place. He knew that after only being there for a few minutes and watching them murder a demon for no true reason. He shuddered at the thought of what could happen- could be happening- to Crowley right at this moment if he hadn’t managed to get back. 

“Crowley, I’m home,” Aziraphale called as he entered the flat, setting down the books in his hands. He glanced around and frowned. The lasagna was indeed in the oven. The kitchen was immaculate. Except for one thing. Aziraphale sighed as his eyes fell on three large empty wine bottles sitting on the kitchen table. “Crowley? Crowley, darling, where are you?” Aziraphale called again, anxiously awaiting the demon’s reply. Crowley getting drunk by himself was never good news. A loud, low groan filtered through the air from Crowley’s office of source, where he kept his telephone. Aziraphale hurried into the room and was greeted by a very drunk Crowley slumped against the wall, slowly chugging an entire bottle of wine. There were five more empty bottles around him. God, he sure was lucky he was a demon and not a human. 

“Angel! You’re home,” Crowley slurred, staggering to his feet. The little bit of wine left in the bottle sloshed as Crowley stumbled towards Aziraphale, flinging his arms around his neck and kissing him all over the face. “I missssed you. Heh,” Crowley continued with a slight hiss, hiccuping and kissing Aziraphale eagerly before stumbling back over to his chair. As entertaining as it was to see Crowley so absolutely hammered like this, Aziraphale knew that for Crowley to let himself get drunk, something had to be bothering him. 

“My dear, I think it’s about time you sobered up,” Aziraphale said gently, placing his hands on Crowley’s shoulders and guiding him to sit in his chair. The demon whined in protest and shook his head vigorously, taking another swig from the bottle of wine. “Why not?” Aziraphale frowned. 

“Don’t want to,” came the simple reply, and Crowley pouted at his angel. Aziraphale’s chest tightened. 

“Why don’t you want to?” he asked, cautious. Crowley stared at him for a moment, a little more sullen now, before lowering his gaze to the floor. 

“It hurts,” Crowley whispered, his voice breaking. He looked back up at Aziraphale, his slitted snake eyes wide and filled with fear. “I’ll think too much. It hurts, Zira. I can’t…” The demon curled up on himself, the bottle in his hands dangling threateningly from his fingers. Aziraphale carefully took the bottle and set it on Crowley’s desk before cupping the demon’s face and gently lifted it. Crowley’s jaw was set tight but his eyes were glistening with unshed tears. 

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly, brushing Crowley’s cheek with his thumb. The demon slumped forward and rested his head against Aziraphale’s shoulder. He began to tremble and the angel saw the bottles of wine slowly beginning to refill themselves. Aziraphale kept a steady, comforting grip on Crowley, getting a hint at how upset he was going to be when he was sober. Crowley’s breathing hitched suddenly as his hands scrambled to grab the back of Aziraphale’s jacket, his hands shaking. Aziraphale pulled Crowley close to his chest. 

“I knew you,” Crowley choked out, his breathing erratic. “I knew you before, I dedicated stars to you, I loved you, I-” Crowley cut himself off with a loud sob, burying his face in Aziraphale’s shoulder as he shook. “We were together before I fell. I could’ve killed you. I could’ve killed you in the Great War and I wouldn’t have fucking remembered you!” Crowley shouted, though it was muffled by Aziraphale’s shoulder. He whipped his head up suddenly, almost knocking Aziraphale in the chin as his eyes widened in terror. “I didn’t hurt you did I? Oh my Lord, did I hurt you? Did I fight you? Please, please tell me I didn’t, please,” Crowley begged, hands gripping the front of Aziraphale’s jacket as his body heaved with sobs. Aziraphale quickly took in Crowley’s appearance. Trembling, heavy and short breathing, sweat on his forehead, sense of impending doom and panic, all signs of one thing. 

“Crowley, darling, look at me. Focus completely on me,” Aziraphale said slowly. Crowley shook as he made eye contact with Aziraphale, tears rolling thick and fast down his face. “There you go, that’s it. Can you breathe with me, darling? Listen to my breathing,” he continued. He placed Crowley’s hand over his heart before taking slow, deep breaths for the other man to mimic. Crowley struggled to copy Aziraphale. 

“I-I can’t, I can’t,” Crowley gasped, his breathing only getting worse. Aziraphale’s heartbeat quickened but he did his best to remain calm. 

“Alright. Look at me, darling. Name five things you can see.” Crowley glanced quickly around the room. 

“Y-You, my chair, sunglasses, gr-grey walls, and the t-telephone,” Crowley managed. Aziraphale smiled encouragingly. 

“Good, very good. You’re doing well. Now name three things that you can touch.” Crowley’s shaking had calmed down to light shivers. 

“Your suit jacket, the carpet, and...um, the chair, again,” Crowley’s voice tapered off. 

“You’re doing so well, my dear, good job. Tell me two things you can hear,” Aziraphale soothed, maintaining eye contact with Crowley. The demon closed his eyes for a moment. 

“My breathing and the ceiling fan.” He was much calmer now, and anxiety was giving way to exhaustion. Aziraphale nodded. 

“Almost done, you can get through this. I’m so proud of you. Tell me one thing you can taste,” Aziraphale concluded, allowing Crowley to slump against him slightly.

“Wine,” Crowley murmured with the tiniest smile, closing his eyes. He was completely exhausted as he weakly clung to Aziraphale. “What on earth was that? That...that was fucking awful,” Crowley croaked, his throat dry and sore from crying. Aziraphale summoned a glass of water and the demon drank it eagerly. 

“You had a panic attack. Humans have them a lot, or so I’ve heard, especially when they have some form of anxiety. It’s caused by a number of things, but most likely in your case, it was because of the contents in your file,” Aziraphale explained slowly. He’d seen the book lying open on Crowley’s desk and put two and two together. Crowley wrinkled his nose and sagged even further against Aziraphale, drinking from a once again full glass. 

“I don’t like panic attacks. Bloody stupid things,” Crowley muttered. Aziraphale smiled sympathetically and extended his wings, wrapping them around the two of them the best he could. Crowley hummed softly as the feather enveloped him like a warm blanket. Aziraphale stood, carrying Crowley in his arms and walking to the bedroom, keeping the wings wrapped tightly around them. 

“You should get some rest. Panic attacks can be rather exhausting, and it would be best if you relaxed,” Aziraphale said. Crowley could only move his head in a slight nod against Aziraphale’s chest, already dozing off as pure exhaustion took over him. Aziraphale placed Crowley on the soft mattress, snapping to put him in a pair of soft, black pajamas. 

“Will you stay with me?” Crowley asked, lifting his head tiredly to look at his lover. Aziraphale answered by summoning a set of pajamas for himself and climbing into bed next to Crowley. He extended his wings once more and placed them protectively over his demon. Crowley snuggled closer to his angel, wrapping his arms around his waist and tangling their legs together. Aziraphale smiled softly and kissed the top of Crowley’s head, making the demon hum softly with content. They both fell asleep soon after, Aziraphale using a small miracle to help them fall asleep faster. 

Little did Crowley know that the dreaming world was just as terrifying as the waking one, and sometimes things are revealed that one does not always want to know.

[ladyxvesperbell]

Mascarada

It’s All Hallows Eve and the masquerade is finally here

ko-fi

"Little bird you need to settle down."  "Why?  The masquerade is today, I can't help but be excited about it!" Quetzal squealed jumping around the small space with a smile.  Muriel looked at her for a moment before returning to his whittling, and she sat beside him leaving a kiss on his shoulder.  "We should get going Muriel I am dying to use the baths at the palace."  Muriel set aside the piece of wood and his tools before standing up pulling her with him.  "Have you noticed Xochitl has been more protective than usual with you?"  "I have, I'm sure it's nothing," Quetzal replied with a shrug wrapping a heavy cloak around her shoulders, "Xochitl, Inanna come on we are going to the palace."  The two familiars left their spot by the fireplace and the jaguar rubbed her head against Quetzal's stomach while she reached her down to pet her.  "Quetzal…"  "I'm not, remember I already bled this month unless...you're seeing something my sweet girl."  Muriel rested a hand on her head gently ruffling her hair only for her to smile at him.  She left the hut followed by Inanna and Xochitl and he allowed her to go ahead as he closed the door after dousing the fire.  He couldn't help but smile at the ease which she had made herself a part of his life and in a few steps caught up to her taking her hand.

When they reached the city she could feel his grip on her hand tighten and she looked up at him giving the most reassuring smile she could muster and felt his grip relax slightly.  "I'm here my love, don't worry."  "I know little bird."  With a nod she looked away again hurrying through the streets of Vesuvia until they finally reached the palace.  The sight that greeted them was awe inspiring, the palace had been decorated in a grand fashion and from all the carriages that were arriving it would be housing plenty of guests.  She took his hand and reached the gate and handed their invitations and as soon as they set foot through the gate they made a beeline to Quetzal's usual room.  "At least we get to stay together," she mused and threw herself onto the bed taking a deep breath stretching her body over the sheets.  "That's true now come you said you wanted to make use of the baths," Muriel said gently yanking on her legs only to get a whine in response.  "But the sheets are so soft Muriel!"  "We can make use of them later."  "Is that a promise?"  He said nothing but the smile that crept up to his lips was enough of a confirmation and she left the bed without much fuss.  "Only if you behave tonight my little bird."  With that he left the room first while Quetzal stood looking at the door before her face turned just the slightest bit red.  He'd been getting bolder day by day leaving her more and more flustered each time almost as if he were playing some unspoken game with her.

When she finally left the room Quetzal headed to the baths with a clear spring in her step greeting those of the staff she recognized.  Upon reaching the baths all she could hear were the bashfully giggles from the staff and she smiled with a hint of amusement.  Muriel soaked in the bath and she crept quietly inside before she joined him, stepping into the water across from him feeling his intense gaze upon her.  "Enjoying the water?"  "Yes,among other things."  Quetzal smiled and started to focus on washing herself instead of her lover's eyes on her following her every move.  When she was done she moved towards him and rested her hands on his thighs.  "Will you be alright Muriel?"  "So long as I'm in your company."  "If you feel we need to step back, please don't hesitate to let me know," she said, her previous playful expression turning serious before she touched his face with one hand.  "I don't want to ruin your experience my love."  Quetzal sighed taking her pace at his side and rested her head on his shoulder.  "It wouldn't, I am aware that you may need to step back," she replied and took his hands placing small kisses on them and she smiled before returning to her bath.

After their shared bath Quetzal and Muriel went their separate ways to get dressed, she headed towards the changing rooms and she was taken to the atelier before she even made it to the rooms.  "Miss Quetzal, you are looking absolutely radiant today," the tailor said taking one of her hands spinning her around in place.  "Thank you, I have been able to spend more time with Muriel, I'm thinking of expanding my living quarters so he can move into my home.  "I see, he is such a magnificent specimen of a human, it was a delight to create his costume."  Quetzal was now curious and she raised an eyebrow only for the tailor to shake their head.  "You will not see him until the right time."  "Oh fine," she said with a pout removing her robe setting it aside while their assistants brought the finished dress.  "I still can't believe I am wearing something so beautiful tonight."  "The countess told me of all you did for her I had to make sure that your clothes were worthy of someone so amazing."  Quetzal nodded looking back at the dress and she stepped into the skirt of her dress, she closed the skirt and carefully lifted her bodice.  She unclasped the small chains and the choker while the tailor carefully draped the small chains over her back while she closed her choker.  "Still feels comfortable my dear?"  "Yes."  The chains of the side were closed and lastly Quetzal was presented by a beautiful glass hairpiece modeled after the bird she was named after.  "Oh, I can't possibly wear this."

The tailor shook their head and sat Quetzal down, while another young woman came in with combs and other things on hand.  "My dear I know where you come from, those specific colors are familiar to me."  "What is your name?"  "Toltecatl."  Quetzal drew a long breath but smiled taking Toltecatl's hands.  "I have wondered if I would ever meet someone that came from the same place I do," Quetzal said as a smile formed on her lips and the young woman started to style her hair, as her hair was being done she started to apply her makeup.  The comb went through her hair with ease and she watched from the mirror as her hair was parted sideways strands of her hair were left to frame her face as part of her hair was pulled into a ponytail, braided and carefully wrapped into a flower shaped bun leaving the rest of her hair to fall over her shoulders.  The glass bird was placed into the bun and she was left with Toltecatl and she looked in the mirror with a satisfied smile.  "You have very talented people working with you."  "Well the countess has the coin therefore I have the luxury of scouting talented people."  Quetzal nodded and she nodded her as Toltecatl helped her up, allowing her to leave the atelier to grab her mask.  With her limited knowledge of the castle passages she finally reached her room catching a glimpse of Muriel in his masquerade costume and she couldn't help but open the door.

"Muriel."  He turned around and whatever he was going to say died in his lips he dropped the masks on the bed instead walking towards her.  "You look beautiful."  "Do I?"  His mouth went dry and she smiled innocently looking up at him taking one of his hands.  "You do, little bird I might have to hide you away from prying eyes," he replied stiffly before turning to grab her mask.  "Oh?  Is that so?  I could say the same of you, such soft fabric draping over your muscles I might have to blind a few people," she said running her finger over the silk shirt.  It hung open and the fabric was embroidered with Khokuri motifs.  He wore a silver cloak with black lining and his white pants had embroidery down the sides as well.  "Perhaps," he said looking through their things, soon enough he pulled out her mask and very carefully placed it on her face.  "There you go."  She walked towards a nearby mirror and turned around with a giggle, she looked towards Muriel as he put on his mask and returned to his side.  "The ball should be starting soon."  "Yes it should be."  They left the room and made their way to the ballroom, many of the dignitaries that were invited were already present.  Waiters walked around with hors d'oeuvres and drinks and Quetzal immediately reached for the nearest flute of champagne and an oyster, looking up at Muriel innocently as she brought the oyster to her lips.  Muriel took a glass of champagne to humor her and she giggled before slurping her oyster.

"You should try one," Quetzal said amused while she set the shell aside on the platter before taking one and giving it to him.  "Here you just slurp it and chew a bit."  "That's it?"  She nodded and watched as he slurped the oyster, he shrugged after swallowing while taking a sip of his drink.  Fanfare soon followed prompting people to turn to the grand stairwell of the ballroom Quetzal and Muriel did as well.  Nadia and her family gracefully made their way down the steps their clothes a beautiful array of colors that had everyone fixated on them.  They look amazing."  "They do."  They had the first dance and soon people gathered started to join, Quetzal looked longingly when Muriel rested a hand on her shoulder.  "Muriel are you sure?"  "Nadia has been giving me lessons," he replied with a blush and Quetzal nodded happily as he led her to dance.  She looked up at him through the mask sighing quietly as his hand made its way to the small of her back.  He looked down at her and took the first step watching as she immediately caught on.  Muriel felt his heart flutter as she spun and the gauzy material of the skirt followed somehow managing to reveal yet conceal her body but said nothing the moment her wide smile fell upon him.

"Muriel?"  "You look beautiful little bird."  "Thank you my love."  They continued dancing for a while even dancing with other partners before deciding to take a small break to listen to the music.  "I hear the entirety of the castle is decorated would you like to see it with me?"  Quetzal asked leaning her head against his shoulder before he stood up offering his hand to her.  "I would like to, it's very crowded here," he replied and they both left to look around.  Leaving the grand ballroom they started to walk through some of the halls, stopping at each one though currently the confectionary was Quetzal's favorite as Nadia had brought someone to make spicy chocolate squares.  She managed to have a few before leaving giggling.  "Little bird?"  "They are delicious and they remind me of things, very good things."  "Like what?"  "A village in the jungle jaguars much like Xochitl, little things here and there, I still need to finish looking through all the papers I found that Asra hid away."  "I see."

Quetzal merely shrugged and they kept walking until they reached the only wing not decorated by the staff.  "We should go."  "It's just Lucio's old wing," Quetzal said with a shrug walking forwards without any apprehension."  "Quetzal…"  "He's not here anymore and he won't hurt us," she replied and opened the door to his room.  Muriel followed her and she turned on the lights, it was clearly kept clean but other than that it was untouched.  "The room of a pathetic man and oh look a picture of his war mongering mother."  "Was I wrong to not have forgiven her?"  Quetzal turned around to face him and shook her head before she sat on the edge of the bed.  "I don't think so, you were within your rights to not forgive her, she caused the deaths of the majority of your people apologizing does not immediately mean granting forgiveness.  Asra apologized yes I feel it is my right to not forgive him because he desecrated my spirit by bringing me back.  I am within my rights to that."  "Yet you forgave me."  "So I did, however, I don't recall you being so obsessive that you refused to let me go, I would hope you would respect me enough to just let me rest in peace," Quetzal said while he moved closer.  "I would, now why bring me to an abandoned castle wing?"

Quetzal raised an eyebrow tilting her head playfully to the side before she looked up at him with a smile on her face.  "Perhaps I hoped to seduce after all why else agree to a dress that under the right light shows nearly everything?"  she replied with a question of her own and watched as he sucked in a deep breath before moving even closer to her. "Besides what better way to further stick it to Lucio than having his former victims desecrate his room for fun."  Muriel said nothing for a moment watching the gauzy skirt slowly move up while she kept her eyes on him.  "Enlighten me then little bird."  "It would be my pleasure."

"Has anyone seen Muriel and Quetzal?"  "I saw them leave to explore the rooms but other than that no Asra."  Nadia said nothing smirking into her glass of wine before talking to the other guests in the ballroom.  Asra kept asking around until the aforementioned couple came back with glasses of wine in hand as if nothing had happened.  "There you are, where were you?"  "I don't recall needing to tell you of my whereabouts at all times," Quetzal replied raising the glass to her lips holding Muriel's hand before walking off, but not before Asra noticed a few marks not quite covered by the choker.  Asra's mouth briefly hung open while Muriel and Quetzal moved to the dance floor again.  "They're back?"  "Yes they are, Julian," Asra replied giving him the most fox like grin Julian had ever seen.  Julian smirked already knowing what the two had been up to before leaving the ballroom to do some exploring of his own.  "Aren't you glad you accepted the invitation?"  "I am so long as it's with you."  "I know still a step forward,"Quetzal mused in between dance steps.  "But I can't wait to go back home."  "I know,  I have a feeling that things will change for the better soon."

Muriel had no answer to that but he suddenly had a slight idea what with Xochitl being extremely protective of Quetzal lately.  "Do you have a surprise for me?"  "I don't know yet," she replied with a grin as he dipped her down.  "Color me intrigued."  Quetzal nodded as he carefully pulled her back up against him resuming their dancing.  "You seem to know where they were Nadia?" Asra said curiously only for the countess to giggle.  "My dear magician I just gave suggestions to them nothing more."  "Like a dress that is see through and very easy to take apart."  "Perhaps, I do love surprises though."  Asra nodded looking the couple dancing happily and smiled while Faust peeked out of his shirt."  "New friend?"  "I think so Faust, I think so."  

[solitaire-dreams]

What’s Your Type? : Pokespe Fire/Water/Grass Dexholder Analysis

DISCLAIMER: Honestly, I've only read RGB, RS, DP, BW, and SM arcs in full; and parts of the Yellow and B2W2 arc. So, any information outside of these arcs is coming from Bulbapedia and is liable to be incorrect.

When it comes to the world of Pokespe, rather than the anime where we follow the never aging Ash Ketchum, we now total about 21 dexholders (our protagonists).  Each dexholder is fairly unique from one another, yet one thing always tends to be in common between them. The same thing that's always common when we pick up our consoles to start a new Pokemon journey. Picking our starters.

In the world of Pokespe, the standard starters aren't guaranteed to be the first Pokemon they will receive—quite the opposite actually—yet they will always gain one of the traditional starters at some point of their evolutionary line on their journey. (The only two exceptions are Yellow who was created for the Yellow games where Pikachu was the starter, and Whi-two or Whitley because they ran out of Unovan starters). This often has us classify the dexholders into grass, fire, and water varieties. Though this categorization goes deeper than a Pokemon in their party, but plays a large role in their characterization.

Each of the dexholders in each category share a trait that connects all of them, and will provide useful for other predictions (skip to the end if you just want to know what the other prediction is). This post is focused on breaking them down one by one.

Note: Since I was tempted enough to reblog an incorrect pokespe quote where green was the name given to the male character, for the rest of this blog, Green is the male character and Blue is the female. Got it? Good.

First off, we'll start off with the fire type dexholders. Most of you might notice some obvious similarities:

Yet, there is also one very obvious exception:

Green here doesn't tend to shout, especially as much as the other fire type dexholders. So, then what is the factor connecting them? All of them still have a very fiery spirit, and more accurately, is their strong determination towards achieving whatever goal they have. They will pursue it no matter whatever or whoever lies in their way; often leading to causing chaos or bad relationships with other people in their wake.

Green is extremely focused on becoming a strong trainer. Upon his first appearance, he is battling Mew with Charmander to train it and shows no remorse when Red tries to battle it and his Pokemon faints; rather looking down on him for not “noticing anything” during the fight. This determination continues throughout the first arc, as further demonstrated when he tries to force his way into Saffron City after Team Rocket attacks Pallet Town and takes his grandfather.

Gold has the notable trait of having a one-track mind, where he focuses on something so much he will pursue that relentlessly, and ignoring anything else that doesn't pertain to that. Though, this trait manifests itself most when Gold pursues “pretty girls” such as the Kimono Girls, gym leader Jasmine, or even Crystal upon first discovering her.

Though it still can translate in the pursuit of Gold's goals, where he initially receives a Pokedex because he wanted to use it in battle, and urgently attempts to gain a unique specialty during the GSC arc.

Sapphire's dexholder title is specifically “The Conquer” in reference to her earning 8 gym badges in 80 days. She unrelentingly goes around the region to defeat the gym leaders—causing her to start off on the wrong foot with Ruby. And she turns it into a bet to reach their respective goals in 80 days all because it stemmed from a promise she made with her childhood friend to beat the record of Red when it came to the Pokemon League.

Pearl's title is the Determiner, one he received after bonding with Azelf—the lake guardian of Willpower. He managed to bond with Azelf because he completes whatever he starts; as clarified by Diamond in the arc. Determiner, willpower, completes whatever started...yeah, this screams dedication to a goal. Especially when you consider the focus Pearl gives to Dia's and his comedy routine.

For Black though, no matter how well I could paraphrase it, I will just quote this article (bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Black_(Adventures)): “Black is a young man who aspires to be the Champion of the Unova Pokémon League. He has been dreaming of this since childhood, nine years to be exact. However, these dreams fill his head to the point where he cannot think about anything else and any attempts to cause him to pass out from mental exhaustion...Due to his dreams causing him to forget about other things, Black has the tendency to do things without considering the consequences of his actions and their effects on other people.”

I think the above proves the point well enough.

Also, I would like to briefly mention Y. While Y isn't a fire type dexholder (she's a water type), since there is no fire type dexholder in Kalos (Malva doesn't really count), she is a kind of water/fire dual type with her personality. Y shouts more than most of the other water dexholders and exhibits a more solid determination to pursue her goal of becoming a Sky Trainer, even when this runs into direct opposition with her mother's ideas for her.

Lastly, we wrap up the fire dexholder with our latest protagonist, Sun. Sun has the goal of collecting 100 million yen. Acheiving this goal has been Sun's whole time in Alola in the making. He relentlessly pursues money, even prioritizing reaching his personal goal than helping the Alola region against the Ultra Beast invasion, leading him to get sucked into Ultra Space with Solgaleo.

Next up is the water type dexholders, which personally I found the revelation most interesting. It would be difficult to derive a personality solely from the type this time. Unlike fire which is associated with offensive battling, or grass which tends to be connected to defensive, water is viewed as the balance between the two. But, this doesn't really provide any clues into what is the common thread between all these dexholders. My findings, however, were that they all tend to be secretive.

Miss Con Artist (Blue), our first water type dexholder, is literally a con artist. Her whole livelihood is based of lying and keeping the truth about her real intentions to trick people into doing whatever she wants. Plus, she has her own secrets that only come to light much later into her appearance in the first arc and beyond. Her pathological fear of birds is only hinted at during the Team Rocket battle and confirmed during the Pokemon League when battle “Professor O”. Even more shocking was her childhood under the Masked Man, who trained her because of the promise she showed as a trainer.

This transitions nicely to our other dexholder who was raised under the Masked Man, Silver. And he so happens to be a water type dexholder as well. While Silver does not purposely keeping his life before the Masked Man close to his chest, it is revealed that Silver was the son of Giovanni, an insanely big secret that heavily impacted his character.

Ruby, in order to pursue his love of contests and oppose the beliefs of his father, refuses to battle at the beginning of the RS arc. This in turn hides his amazing battling skills (plus the fact he has a FREAKING CELEBI). Additionally, when it comes to the climax of the arc, he hides from Sapphire the plan he had to team up with Courtney to control Groudon and Kyogre. While still intended for her safety, it is still another massive lie and withholding of the truth on his part.

Platinum may not be thought of as being secretive, but the speech she makes after learning Dia and Pearl weren't her bodyguards begs to differ. Most of the lies she reveals in that speech were white lights told to make her not seem inferior and were obvious to the reader, but it still goes to show that she lied a fair amount. Her wealth and connection to the Berlitz family were also discovered rather than told by Platinum. And most obviously, she hid her real name of Platinum until this time! This whole journey, her companions didn't know what her true first name was!

Lack-two or Blake is another dexholder who has lying built into his occupation. Blake is with the International Police and working undercover during the B2W2 arc (Please give us some form of closure! #freeblack2k19). He literally has to keep his true intentions of hunting down the remnants of Team Plasma from his fellow classmates. Additionally, his true personality isn't shown to others either; he puts on a womanizing and flirtatious front when he truly an emotionless officer.

Y is honestly the least secretive out of the water dexholders, but that can also be attributed to her odd Volcanion (a fire-and-water type) fusion. It may not be obvious, or not in a way you expect, but Y does hide something—her feelings. Dealing with the human depression that is X and three of her other friends while trying to all live on their own and dealing with fallout from her mother on top of one of the most cruel evil teams yet? You think she would break down, or someone would help her; but none of the characters we follow demonstrate this concern! theviolenttomboy made a short post that summarizes all the sh*t Y goes through (theviolenttomboy.tumblr.com/post/146359425406/figured-out-why-i-cant-ship-y-with-absolutely), and how she has to deal with it all on her own. In order to keep the group alive, she has to hide her emotional distress. A problem not even resolved by the end of the arc.

Finally, we arrive at the grass type dexholders. Honestly this was the most tricky for me to pin down. Mostly because we have dexholders like Dia and X who have personalities that couldn't seem more different. So, I had to take a look back, and that's when I realized something. Both of the previous characterizations centred around how they achieve their goals. Fire type dexholders barrel through whatever obstacles are in their way and water type dexholders hide information as they pursue their goals. This gave me the clue of what to analyze for the grass type dexholders and this is my conclusion:

The way grass dexholders approach their goals is the most “healthy”. They are able to self-intrinsically motivate themselves when life discourages their goals and try to achieve them in a way that doesn't tend to hurt others as much as the other two dexholder categories (most of the time).

Honestly, this probably reminds you of a generic shonen protagonist, so it is fitting that the dexholder who started this characterization was the most shonen like character of all: Red. Red is able to convince himself to keep working towards his goal of becoming the strongest trainer, despite the obstacles he faces in the form of Team Rocket or people like his rival discouraging him from developing into a stronger trainer. The way he aims to be the strongest also doesn't harm many people, if people are affected, it tends to be accidental.

Crystal manages to stay firm in her goal of catching all the Pokemon even if the other Johto dexholders just see her as a girl at first. She can motivate herself to keep working towards it, and with the caring and give-back nature of Crystal, she is certainly not harming anyone on her path to reaching her goal. Minus a few face kicks to Gold.

Emerald certainly faced a lot of adversity that pushed him down. Becoming an orphan at a young age and made fun of for his small height, initially actually causing him to go against the foundation of grass dexholders being able to motivates themselves by resulting in a dislike of Pokemon and his stature. However, he develops this grass mindset as the Emerald arc progresses, finding what he enjoys, what makes him unique, and cultivating the confidence needed to be himself—even if life is still against him. Plus, while I can't speak for much of his actions in the Emerald arc (because I haven't red FRLG yet, and I know the events are directly connected), his title of the Calmer which stems from his ability to help Pokemon feel relaxed means he is at least not harming Pokemon much during his adventure.

One of the biggest character moments for Diamond is him managing to self-intrinsically motivate himself to pursue a goal despite opposition. In this case, the goal being to stop Team Galactic and his opposition being his best friend Pearl. Regardless, he succeeds in standing up to him and working towards thwarting Team Galactic, with the worst harm caused probably being Pearl's shock at Dia standing up for himself.

White seems to exhibit a peaceful way of pursuing her goal surrounding her talent agency for Pokemon. When her goal switches after Gigi leaves her for a bit, White's new focus on getting stronger at battling is still approached in much the same way. One where she convinces herself to keep working towards improvement and does not negatively affect people along the way.

Then we have the enigma of X. X doesn't seem to follow things of “motivation” or not inadvertently bringing down others with him, but that's only when his goal isn't clear. When we start with X in the XY arc, his goal is to stay in his room; locked away from the outside world. In this context, he meets all the criteria: he ends up convincing himself to work towards his goal of staying a shut-in, despite all the pleas to change this from his friends; and most of his protest to stay inside is silent and doesn't directly or physically harm his friends.

Lastly, our final dexholder is Moon, who also conforms to this characterization fairly well. Moon is able to pursue whatever she considers a priority, unaffected by outside influences. Whether it be praise from her work early on in the SM arc, or not listening to reason before chasing after Sun in the wormholes when he is taken away; leaving Alola to face the Ultra Beasts alone.

tl; dr : Each dexholder approaches their goals differently based on the type of their starter. Fire dexholders have strong enough determination to barrel through all the obstacles to their goal, knocking down everything and everyone in their way. Water dexholders are secretive and hide important information as they work towards their goal. Grass dexholders have the “healthiest” way of reaching their goals, managing to motivate themselves to keep working towards it when life tells them otherwise.

This information may be touched on again in other posts I'm planning: a follow-up talking about the “Bronze-age” progression of dexholder characterization, one about predicting what the Gen 8 protagonists of Pokespe will be like, and another discussing trio characterization.

~Thanks for reading and I'll be back soon!

[teddystrap]

[神なる君と] Osananajimi Duo - Yakumo

Second route of the game. #mfw ==== (ง•̀_•́)ง‼

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-Takekiyo Yakumo-

Niiiiisssssaaaannnnnnn!!!

Yakumo is the other osananajimi of the trio. He is one year older than Sakuya and Narumi, and acts as the protective big brother - when they were young, some older kids took Sakuya’s *precious amulet*, and Yakumo went to get it back from them and got beaten up really badly. 

Sakuya later tells him that at that time he seemed like a ‘hero’ and she had always looked up to him. So I guess there’s like a love triangle (...love flowchart??) that goes: Narumi --> Sakuya --> Yakumo since the very beginning.

Also early on in the story, Yakumo tells Sakuya in a ‘simulation event’ that, even if he loved her, he would never confess and they can never be together, because it would end in tragedy. Pfffft whatever nii-san, that just means I will have to make the first move *evil laugh*. 

My feelings during his route went from hilarious, to sad, to finally disconcerting. He’s kind of a poor bastard and MIA in half of his own route. When I finally got the the two endings I wanted to throw my game console out of the window... (╯°□°)╯︵ ԀSԀ

Yes, exactly.

Aaanyway, there are two big revelations here:

1. Aki’s backstory: Kibi Aki is the 16-year-old spirit medium sent by the Ministry to spy on monitor Kunihoshi Shrine, because Mikoto forgot to send in his report (#justMikotothings). After Sakuya accidentally fucks up one of her assignments, it’s revealed that she actually comes from a renowned onmyouji family, and left home to train under the ministry at a young age in order to prove herself.

2. Kunugi’s backstory: Kunugi is the shape-shifting demon who stole the *magical seal* that protects the town, and Aki’s target of investigation. I didn’t expect to like him at first, but his tragic romance is pretty kewl I have to admit:

Kunugi was a douchebag since birth and terrorised the village so all the villagers hated him. One day, a girl named Yuki wandered into his territory. She was a grade A-level village idiot idiot, and after 3 days of trying and failing to find her way out, he gave her some food and water so she wouldn't die on his grounds. She was very grateful and started to get close to him. She also begged him to stop terrorising the village. Eventually she annoyed him enough that he agreed.

Then gradually, he began to help the villagers here and there, and even became friends with them. One day they wanted to thank him for his help. They gave him a small wooden box, and told him it was some kind of national treasure. Just then Yuki intercepted, and the box emitted some light beam that went into her body.

After that Yuki got progressively sicker and on the brink of death. Out of anger and confusion, he tried to destroy the box, but it's more sturdy/fireproof than an LV tote bag. Eventually she told him that the box contains a cursed rock (i.e. the remains of the Great Demon), and once every two hundred years the village has to offer a human sacrifice to prevent the curse from escaping and causing disaster. This time the villagers chose him, so she gave her life to save his...

Kind of hard to imagine how she fell in love with this (ahem *Aki*)... hopefully a few hundred years ago he took on a sexier appearance...

But I digress. Let’s get back to Yakumo XD. So his deal is basically that the Takekiyo bloodline has been chosen as the human sacrifice every 200 years. As a result, Yakumo is inflicted with a curse that puts him to sleep for longer and longer periods, until he eventually goes into a longggg sleep and never wakes up. This also explains his superhuman athletic abilities and sixth sense, because the Force be with him powers of the Great Demon live within him.

Early on in the common route, he occasionally says things like, ‘you must live on happily when I am gone’ and gives Sakuya a #sadface, like someone with a terminal illness. Eventually Sakuya finds out the truth from his parents, after which he couldn’t hide anymore, and starts to reveal all his fears and doubts, as well as his feelings for her.

As it turns out Yuzuru knows a way to break the curse, but it requires putting Yakumo into a coma for years, and there’s a good chance of death. Basically the supernatural equivalent of a high-risk medical operation I guess. He has until the hoshimatsuri to decide whether to take a gamble with this method, or let the curse continue slowly chipping away at his lifespan.

...Of course he chooses the former. You’d be an idiot not to.

1. Good End: It’s been 7 years (!), and he still hasn’t woken up from his coma. According to Yuzuru, 5 years is the ‘safety period’, and after that he’s as good as gone. Sakuya doesn’t give up, and **10 years later** (#tumbleweeds) he finally wakes up on hoshimatsuri night. They go on to have a baby who looks ridiculously like Yakumo ...and will probably be affected by the same curse...? Oh well let’s hope Yuzuru is still alive by then to do his thang.

2. Tragic End: Under Yuzuru’s advice, Sakuya gives up and lets him erase all her memories. Yakumo eventually wakes up after 10 years anyway, and it sucks for him because unlike in Narumi’s end, Yakumo still remembers everything and has to live with it for the rest of his life. Like I said, poor bastard...

Understatement of the year.

*

[Thoughts] Somehow this route felt shorter and less tearful than Narumi’s, maybe because I got used to the general setting and gameplay. Yakumo’s ema events feel like they came out of a shounen manga and had me in stitches the whole time. I can’t recall any other otome game that made me laugh this much (...except maybe 「私のレアルは充実している」).

What I like about this route is the added tension here compared to Narumi’s route: in Narumi’s case it’s pretty obvs that he has a crush on Sakuya. He said it himself that he’s never viewed Sakuya as a sister from the beginning. So on that front there’s no doubt from his side, his whole conflict revolves only around the ‘forbidden love’ aspect.

Whereas with Yakumo, when he shows hints of feelings towards Sakuya, they’re often ambiguous between the actions of an older brother towards a little sister vs. a love interest. That made it all the more exciting.

Also apart from the curse/risk of death and that stuff, Yakumo also had his ‘manly pride’ to reckon with - letting Sakuya see his weak side and realise that he’s not always her ‘hero’. It was pretty damn emotionally satisfying when he finally came clean about his secrets and started letting Sakuya into his world. Although, much of his later dialogue is pretty cliche tbh. I actually found his baka persona more interesting. But eh.

I guess it’s this pride of his that makes it necessary for Sakuya to be an adult here. Whenever his white lies or ‘fake cheerfulness’ made her angry, she had to learn/choose to coax things out of him gently instead of calling him out on it. Conversely I felt that with Narumi she was more direct, and had more leeway for wagamama.  

The Aki/Kunugi story arc was a high point of the route for me. Aki’s background helps to explain her personality in so many ways. I love her character growth and development here, as she eventually learns to accept help from other people, instead of trying do everything by herself. Ahh... her whole story strikes so many chords with me. I also love how she got her own grand love story here.

(Part of me is curious if the Aki-lookalike and Kunugi’s ‘true form’ will make an appearance later on. It’s a long shot, but let’s hope!)

This route also revealed a lot about Yuzuru, whom I’m liking more and more and whose story I’m really looking forward to... I thought I had more to say about him but nahhh. Asshole who’s a secret softie at heart <3.

I’ll sign off this post with the following pun from Genpei which I thought was pretty cheeky -