#ask yourself - is there something sinister about moralism? and then answer: no

[i-gwarth]

oh this was phenomenal

"The rules are shades of grey when you don't do as you say"

This? THIS, IN WINTER 2023-2024? An animated show cutting right down to the core hypocrisy of liberal institutionalism? Swinging for the throat of a rules-based order?? Now, of all times?

Are you fucking kidding me?? This is so perfect it makes me think it's divinely ordained. They couldn't have hit the target any better in a million years.

Maybe this isn't a surprise to everyone. I joined this bandwagon late in the process. I never followed the show's creator or the development process prior to NDA's shutting down character details or any indicators of where the narrative might go. I didn't know what to expect or what Viviene Medrano thinks about things.

Mainly I saw a very pretty show with a very blatant and unique tension at its core: How can the concept of redemption (or even any definition of sin) exist as a legitimate thing under authority of a Heaven that sanctions regular, coordinated genocide? Who writes these rules, anyway? How aware are they of what's going on? How real are the rules at all?

Turns out Hazbin Hotel chose the most compelling answer it possibly could: the rules are as real as everything else - they're a fake pretend make-believe of accountability and righteousness designed to sanitize realpolitik, prevent the upending of the existing order and keep the people already at the top at the top. You know, just like in real life.

Just like how the global system of international law can condemn one violent genocidal assault from a fascist regime but condone another, even longer-lasting one just a few parallels away.

This thing! It's just like that other thing!!

[confused-stars]

Disco Elysium quote I think about the most and will probably drive me insane

The Kingdom of Conscience will be exactly as it is now. Moralists don't really *have* beliefs. Sometimes they stumble on one, like on a child's toy left on the carpet. The toy must be put away immediately. And the child reprimanded. Centrism isn't change -- not even incremental change. It is *control*. Over yourself and the world. Exercise it. Look up at the sky, at the dark shapes of Coalition airships hanging there. Ask yourself: is there something sinister in moralism? And then answer: no. God is in his heaven. Everything is normal on Earth.

[albertasunrise]

Oops Baby - Frankie's Girl

Masterlist

Summary: Being best friends with Frankie meant movie nights, drinks with the guys and a shoulder to cry on when you got your hear broken. He is head over heels for you but you don’t feel the same… yet a drunken mistake will tie your lives together forever!

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2

You hated their happiness. 

You hated watching as the two of them seemed to fall madly in love with each other. All the while your realisation that you had, indeed, developed feelings for your best friend had kept you up at night. Your heart seemed to ache. Permanently. You had lost count of the number of nights you had cried yourself to sleep. 

So you distracted yourself in whatever ways you could. At almost seven months pregnant you were struggling more and more with day-to-day tasks. But with Frankie often distracted by his new girlfriend and Benny busy training for his upcoming fights. You often found yourself struggling on. You didn't want to be a bother to Will. He had enough on his plate so you did what you could. 

Ben took on the role of best friend as the weeks went by. Frankie did what he could. The nursery was almost finished. The furniture was built and the painting was done. All that was left to do was start unpacking the clothes and toys you'd been given at the shower Frank had thrown a few weeks after you'd learned you were having a girl. 

Ben was busy putting up some artwork you'd bought when you'd carried in two refreshing glasses of lemonade. Placing the beverages down, you rubbed your side, wincing at the stitch-like pain you'd been suffering all morning. 

"Everything okay?" Ben asked upon noticing your obvious discomfort. 

"Yeah... Just got a stitch or something." You groaned "Joys of carrying life inside of you." 

"You should go see a doctor." Said Ben as he hopped down from the stool he had been using a moment ago and helped you sit "Could be something else." 

"Ben, I'm fine." You grumbled but you didn't stop him from helping you to the seat Frank had ended up purchasing.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't a little concerned that this was something more sinister. The pain had been getting gradually worse over the course of the day. What had started as mild discomfort had started to take on a stabbing-like sensation. 

"Have you called Frank?" Ben asked and you shook your head.

"No." You panted as you tried to breathe through it "He's busy with Mary and I didn't want to worry him." 

"You're pregnant Titch!" Ben exclaimed, "You know he'll drop anything if you need him." 

"I know." You grumbled "But I don't want him to - AH - I don't want him to think I'm - Ahhh Ben it really hurts." 

"Right!" He piped up as he helped you to your feet "We're going to the hospital and I am going to call Fish on the way." 

...

Frankie watched as Mary puttered around the kitchen. He loved to watch her cook. It was something she was passionate about and the fact that she was excellent at it made it easy for him to let her spoil him. 

Lately, however, he felt his retched heart failure getting the better of him. He felt weak all the time. Very little energy to do anything more than sit on the couch with her each night. She didn't seem to mind the fact that he didn't feel up to sex all that much anymore. 

Despite Mary telling him he wasn't. He knew he'd put on weight. His soft stomach looked rounder. He'd put it down to how well she fed him. She was careful to make foods she knew wouldn't affect his condition. Something that he deeply appreciated. But boy did he miss steak. 

His phone ringing pulled him out of his thoughts and glancing down at it, Ben's face flashed on its screen. 

"Who is it, babe?" Mary asked as she looked up and smiled at him sweetly. 

"Just Ben." He replied, pushing himself to his feet. 

"You should answer it." She said softly "Could be important." 

"It's Ben." Frankie chuckled "Likely wants to boast about the latest bird he's pulled." 

"You sure?" 

"You told me you wanted me to be more focused on us when we're together." Frank replied as he cupped her cheek "I promised you I'd do that... Ben can wait." He finished as he put his phone on silent. 

...

"Goddamit Fish." Ben growled as his third attempt to reach the pilot went unanswered. 

"He's probably busy." You sighed as you gripped Ben's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

"Yeah well, he's about to become a father." Ben snapped "He shouldn't be ignoring his fucking phone." 

"Ben, you need to calm down." 

"Calm down?" He panted "You're suffering from stomach pain and your 7 months pregnant!" 

"Ben-"

"What if something's seriously wrong?" He shrieked "What if you-" 

"Don't finish that sentence." You warned and he sighed "I'm sure it's just because I've been overdoing it." 

"Titch..." Ben trailed off and you gave his hand another gentle squeeze. 

"We'll be fine

...

Frankie was pounding on your door. After dinner, he'd snuck a look at his phone and had seen the multitude of missed calls and texts from Ben. He didn't wait to be invited in when The younger Miller brother opened the door. 

"Where is she?" He asked as he pushed past his friend, eyes scanning your lounge. 

"She's in bed." Ben grumbled "Nice of you to show." 

"Ben!" Frankie warned but the younger Miller was having none of it.

"No, you don't get to talk to me like that Fish." He growled "She could have lost the baby whilst you were busy fucking Mary." 

"I wasn't-" 

"Doesn't matter what the fuck you were doing." Ben snapped "You can't go ignoring your phone when you're two months away from becoming a father. 

"I want to see her." 

"She's sleeping." 

"Please." Frank pleaded "I fucked up okay! I should have answered." 

"You're right." Benny growled but his features softened when he saw how wrecked the pilot then looked "She and the baby are gonna be fine. Just need to take it easy." 

Frankie nodded before allowing Ben to lead him to your room. You looked comfortable where you lay. Hand resting on your prominent bump as you smiled up at Ben as he appeared through the door. Your expression changed when Frank followed behind him. 

"Look who I tracked down." He chuckled as he stood aside so Frankie could make his way to your side "I'll leave you two to it." 

"Titch I'm-"

"It's fine Frankie." You interrupted "I know you were busy with Mary." 

"It's not okay." The man sobbed as he rested his hand on your belly "If something had happened to you both I'd never have forgiven myself." 

"Nothing did happen." You sighed as you gave him a weak smile. 

"Titch... You've got Pre-eclampsia." Your eyes dropped at the mention of the condition "From now on. You and the baby are my priority!" he stated matter of factly "I haven't been here for you and I should have been." 

"Frankie..."

"Don't argue with me Titch." He sighed "Please. I need to do this." 

You could only nod. Giving him a weak smile as you let your exhaustion take hold. 

You took things easy as the doctor had instructed. Ben and Frank wouldn't allow you to lift a finger. The two men waiting on you hand and foot as your pregnancy moved into its final month. You appreciated the help too. 

You struggled to get around most days. Your ankles were swollen and your back ached. You were miserable. But the boys made sure you were well taken care of. 

Things in Frank's personal life however had become strained. He was desperately trying to juggle his time between you and Mary. She had been understanding of your situation. Always making sure that he was fed and well-rested when he came home to her. The situation was taking its toll on him. His health took an obvious nosedive as the weeks went by. Mary found herself wrestling with her understanding that you were about to become parents and her concern for how your condition was affecting him. Yet she kept her mouth shut for Frankie's sake. 

"How are you feeling?" Ben asked as he passed Frankie the wrench the man required. 

"Been better but comes with the territory when you got heart failure." Frankie chortled.

"I meant about the baby." Ben said as his brows drew together "Only a few weeks to go and all." 

"Oh, right." Frankie replied, not lifting his head from under the bonnet of Ben's truck "Yeah, excited." He then stated as he stood to face the younger man "Can't believe I'm gonna have a daughter." He chuckled. 

"Everything okay?" Ben asked, his concern obvious "You been feeling okay?" 

"Just tired." Frankie said as he shrugged his shoulders "Meds might need tweakin'." 

Ben nodded, smiling when Frankie handed him the wrench back and asked for a different tool. The bonnet slamming shut made Benny jump and turn on his heels to see his friend sprawled on the ground. 

"Fish?" Benny called out as he dropped to his knees, frantically searching for a pulse "FISH?" He all but yelled when he found none. 

"HELP!" He yelled as he started compressions "MARY!" 

His calls were answered by a sob as Mary sprinted outside to see the blonde working on her lover. 

"What happened?" She sobbed and Ben just shook his head. 

"Call an ambulance!" He ordered and she nodded, wasting no time pulling out her cell phone and dialling for help. 

She was then at Frankie's side, holding his hand as she pleaded for him to come back to her. 

"Please don't do this to me, baby." She all but screamed as her fat tears streamed down her cheeks "Frankie... please!" 

The sound of sirens filled the air and in the blink of an eye, she and Ben were being pulled to one side as the EMTs took over. 

"No pulse." One stated as another strapped a mask over the pilot's mouth. 

Then his shirt was being cut away and two paddles were placed on his chest. The medics then shocking him until finally, his heart beat again. 

...

You rushed through the halls as your eyes frantically searched each sign for your destination. Then, just as you started to think you’d been sent the wrong way, you saw the dreaded words you were looking for. 

Cardiac Care Unit - CCU

When you’d receive the call from Ben to say Frank was here you’d almost fainted. His statement still echoed in your head as you rushed through the doors, eyes scanning for anyone that looked familiar. 

“Fish’s had a cardiac event.” 

What did that even mean? Had he had a heart attack? 

Was his condition getting worse? 

Finally, your eyes landed on Benny and you choked on a sob as you sprinted to him, hands cradling your small bump. 

“How is he?”

“Stable.” Ben replied, eyes brimming with unshed tears “His heart just fucking stopped.” Ben choked "One minute we were checking on something with my truck and the next he was on the ground..." 

"Benny..." You trailed off as you held him.

"He said he'd been feeling a little off lately but I didn't think-" 

"This is not your fault Ben." You stopped him in his tracks "Frank's heart's not been good for a while. But he's going to get the best care and he's going to be fine." 

Ben nodded. Knocking a few of those tears in his eyes loose before pulling you close again, gasping when he felt a kick against his stomach. 

"Did she?-"

"She's obviously saying hello to her uncle Ben." You chuckled as you smiled up at him. 

"Hey, lil' Titch." He said sweetly as he placed his hand over your bump, grinning when he was greeted by another kick. 

“What’s she doing here?” Piped up a new voice and your eyes drifted to Mary who was standing, glowering at you. 

“She is his friend.” You growled at her, feeling your blood boil at her eye roll. 

“She’s also carrying his child.” Ben growled out “She deserves to be here.” 

“If she's such a good friend, she would've noticed how sick he's been lately." Mary growled and your stomach dropped. 

"He has?" You all be whispered, eyes drifting to Ben whose head hung low "Why didn't anyone tell me?" 

"It shouldn't be everyone else's responsibility to tell you when someone's health is shit." She growled and Ben had had enough.

"Back off Mary." He growled out, his eyes dark as he glared at her "She's had her own shit going on and you know that."

She all but scoffed. 

"He wouldn't be here if she noticed he was struggling." She snapped and you sobbed, clutching your bump as your eyes flitted between you her and Ben. 

She was right. You hadn't noticed that Frankie's health had been declining and you hated yourself for that. You'd been so caught up in your own situation to see that Frankie, the father of the life inside of you, was suffering himself. 

"I'm so sorry." You choked as you looked at Mary with a wrecked expression. 

"Yeah well, you can tell that to him." She growls "If he lives." 

Next

Fic updates: @albertasunrise-ficsblog

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[the-eldritch-it-gay]

@thedragonagelesbian replied to your post “Concept. I've said that if Majexatli was a...”:

SCREAMING. (i'm sososososo curious about Him but the detail that majexatli won't let themself think his name is.....................................) also i love getting more insight into how the beliefs of majexatli's circle impacted their exile and their falling out of faith with Silvanus; calling their attack a 'disrespect of nature' is so horrendous and cruel but feels consistent with a worldview that prioritizes 'balance' above all else?

​Yes! I think I said once somewhere that Majexatli's circles views/interpretation of Silvanus' teachings very much was some sort of passive & detached centrism and almost stumbling a bit near the shitty like "people are poison and their existence is destroying the enviorment" colonialst nonsense. And Silvanus is about wild nature, how things exist in a balance, and if you think all things exist in a balance that needs to be upkept, are you just maintaining status quo?

I also I think kinda wanted them to be reminiscent of Moralism in Disco Elysium.

Moralists don't really have beliefs. Sometimes they stumble on one, like on a child's toy left on the carpet. The toy must be put away immediately. And the child reprimanded. Centrism isn't change -- not even incremental change. It is control. Over yourself and the world. Exercise it. Look up at the sky, at the dark shapes of Coalition airships hanging there. Ask yourself: is there something sinister in moralism? And then answer: no. God is in his heaven. Everything is normal on Earth.

When I was reading about Silvanus something stuck out to me with this line on the wiki "...he was emotionally distant in regards to its [the balance's] necessity. This led some to view him as heartless, though in reality he valued all life." So that also I think played a part in how I wanted to set up Majexatli's circe's beliefs.

Also, I think while He believes in the circle's teachings, he also perhaps on some level is trying to leverage that in a that covers his tracks and involvement (because while Majexatli has said he isn't the cause of their scars, thats not entirely true, but its not a lie either). I think the circle fostered an environment where he could very easily be absolved of his actions.

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

hello I feel like I owe you an apology for being so blunt with asking for the “pb/antifa whump”, I get that probably threw you and a lot of other people off. The reason I’ve been asking for this stuff was because I always thought that there could be a really interesting story with the theme of the pb/antifa, given their history with each other, and when I discovered this whump community I thought it would be interesting to see a story like that involving whump. But anyway, I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.

Friend, listen, I'm willing to play devil's advocate for you because liking whump really is something that involves a complicated moral standpoint for some people. I mean look at me, I'm happily making thirst traps of a serial killer who tortures and assaults his victims, and other people eat that shit up. Who am I to draw the line in the sand?

But that request is, I think, too real for most people's taste. At least here. PB brutalizing individuals personally and at rallies are already a dime a dozen, unfortunately. Why would I seek out a serialization of what I can get 20 news articles on from a Google search? That's not a narrative I or a reader can control to our liking, that's just a sad reality a lot of people have to suffer through.

Not to mention there's no fun in rooting for a villain like that. There's no comeuppance, there's no redemption, there's no sinister nature we can safely explore. Incredible, the white supremacist beats the shit out of someone who's more than likely queer/POC/underage/etc or any combination and faces no repercussions. That's not something a lot of people want to read for fun, especially when they themself are more likely to identity as the whumpee in this scenario, which further reinforces the horrible truth they already deal with in real life.

It'd be like asking for a KKK!Whumper and a BLM!Whumpee, or an ICE!Whumper and an immigrant!Whumpee, or a shooter!Whumper and a student!Whumpee. Can you seek out, or even write these situations yourself? Sure. Genuinely wouldn't surprise me if there are people out there who happily create that kind of content. But...why? Don't you get enough of that injustice in real life? Why does it being fictional make it any better when it honestly isn't as fictional as you think.

But then, of course, it all comes back around to: who am I to tell you what you can and can't like in whump? Who's anyone to say how far is too far when we go about our day mercilessly brutalizing (or killing) silly little characters for the fun of it? They don't get happy endings, they don't get justice, so why get upset over this?

I can't answer that, I'm not a sociologist or philosophy major. So I'll just say that that's territory that goes too far for me, and I think it does for most people here on Tumblr which is a fairly left leaning/liberal platform all things considered. You aren't going to find that kind of content from me. Now that's not say I might never write a whumpee character experiencing some form of verbal/physical assault due to their race/gender/orientation and so on, but it's not the focus and it's most certainly not meant to be the highlight of the arc.

If you genuinely want recc's for that, I'd recommend giving 4chan a browse. They love violence and owning the libs, I'm sure someone has a couple greentexts of what you're looking for at the very least.

And again, you're more than welcome to make your own content to share, but if that's the vibe you're going with then you're not going to get very many fans here. We do our best to put content warnings for EVERYTHING in our writing/art because different things trigger different people even if we're all in the same fucked up li'l community.

Good luck in your endeavors, my dude. You won't find it on my blog.

[didanawisgi]

BOMBSHELL UK data destroys entire premise for vaccine push

by Chris Waldburger

The media can read just as well as me (maybe), but somehow it is left to me to report this

This is an absolute game-changer.

The UK government just reported the following data, tucked away in their report on variants of concern:

Less than a third of delta variant deaths are in the unvaccinated.

Let me say that another way - two-thirds of Delta deaths in the UK are in the jabbed.

To be specific:

From the 1st of February to the 2nd of August, the UK recorded 742 Delta deaths (yes, the dreaded Delta has not taken that much life).

Out of the 742 deaths, 402 were fully vaccinated. 79 had received one shot. Only 253 were unvaccinated.

The report is here.

But this is the crucial page. Look at the bottom line.

Again, 402 deaths out of 47 008 cases in vaccinated; 253 deaths out of 151 054 cases in unvaccinated. If you get covid having been vaccinated, according to this data, you are much more likely to die than if you were not vaccinated!

Obviously some allowance must be made for more elderly people being vaccinated, but not enough to change the bottom line: this vaccine is not nearly as effective as advertised.

And with all its unknowns, and a much higher adverse reporting number than all other vaccines combined, a complete recalibration of global policy is the only moral option.

Countries around the world, as months pass since vaccinations, are experiencing a surge in vaccinated deaths and hospitalizations. 60% of hospitalizations in Israel are fully vaccinated patients. (Hence the mad rush for untested boosters.)

The powers that be will not admit there is something terribly wrong. They will not acknowledge the clear science that people with natural immunity, and the young and healthy, do not need to take the risks of these injections. Read this very important piece on natural immunity. Reliable studies showing the superiority of natural immunity are just ignored by our overlords.

Instead they will jab and jab and jab again. The vaccine passports will be renewable every six months. Countries are ordering up to 8 shots per citizen. The masks will not go away. Israel, the pre-eminent vaxxed nation, is in lockdown.

The report also made one other important admission:

In other words, getting vaccinated to protect others is not true!

This is NOT a sterilising vaccine that stops diseases like polio or hepatitis using live virus. This is for you alone. Which means, as experts like Martin Kulldorff, biostatistician, epidemiologist and professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School, and Jay Bhattacharya, professor of medicine at Stanford University and research associate at the National Bureau of Economic Research, have long said, it makes zero sense to vaccinate the young and healthy.

We are dealing with a world-historical error, and in fact a global assault on young bodies.

To be clear, I make no advice to anybody about taking the vaccine or not. I may well have decided to take it if I were in a risk category, or if I knew I did not have to wear a mask or get tested after taking a single shot. Your decision should be guided by consulting with a doctor, informed consent, and your own conscience.

And you should ask yourself why there is no explanation for the hundreds of thousands of women experiencing menstrual changes after the shot, or the way vaccines are being mandated at the same time they are under investigation for unknown risks.

What I will say categorically is that you will have to answer one day, in this life or the next, for where you stood on the issue of mandating medicine for the healthy without informed consent, on giving cover for governments to shove things down kids’ noses, and locking down all that makes life worthwhile. Where were you when kids’ freedoms were stolen from them? I doubt there will be much forgiveness from that generation.

Every time somebody posts a meme mocking vaccine hesitance, not only do they alienate the hesitant, and radicalize them, they implicitly endorse a new police state in which a liberal government like Australia feels empowered to pepper spray kids in the face for not wearing a mask that has not been conclusively shown to prevent viral transmission.

For crying out loud, this what even the World Health Organization admits about masks:

The vaccines will not end these measures, especially in countries with low vaccination rates. They cannot, unless these governments admit their massive errors. Their booster shot push makes this unlikely.

Finally, why does the media not even report on governmental data? Why am I reporting this stuff?

I have no idea, but it is truly sinister.

Ask yourself why the media will not even mention the fact that this 23-year-old Irish footballer below, in perfect health, received a vaccine three days before dropping dead:

Untimely indeed.

God have mercy.

[shini--chan]

1p allies and axis react to that the reader gave birth to they're child. When they ask here she wants the hold the baby? , her answer is like "I don't want hold that thing!"

Alright. So, before I start off I need to give a fair warning that as to why it would even come to that point … let’s just say that it is pretty dark. Warning for implied non-con, manipulation & coercion. You’re reading this at your own risk.

Yandere Allies

America

“What do you mean you don’t want it?”, Alfred would ask, completely dumbfounded by your vindictive reaction to your very own child. Lovingly, he stared down at the bundle in his arms. The reddened face covered with wax was just too adorable to be true.

“We’re finally going to be a family; it is the most wonderful thing I can think off. And you have to react like this.”

The malice in those sky-blue eyes was clear as he took in your exhausted state.

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? This is your child as well as mine and you have to go on and reject the best thing that has ever happened to you? Your lack of compassion is shocking. So, either put your big girl panties on and act like an adult or we’re going to have a serious talk!”

Let’s just say that Alfred wouldn’t take it well at all that you have such an aversion to your very own child. He would see it as grounds as to have a serious talk with you. If you’re lucky, it would be something akin to a psychotherapy section that he would do with you, only with a lot of condensation. Then, if he is in a very bad mood, it would be far more macabre.

Of course, the things he would do to you would be wrong, except in his mind where everyone of his actions would be justified. Through rejecting your child, you would have tarnished his image of you. Alfred would have thought that you had gotten used to idea of spending the rest of your days by his side. Those vile words of yours would have served to confirm the latter. And villainize you in his eyes.

You would have a lot of apologizing to do. Just keep in mind that if he would sense anything fake in your buttering up to him, the trust he would have established would crumble to ashes. And he is good at disconcerting true from false. However, if you’d hide any lies you’d have behind extreme emotions, then you could succeed.

Canada

“But, she/he is your child”, Matthew would protest. The way you’d firmly shake your head would make his heart drop to your gut.

“A child I never wanted”, you would whisper, sweat glistening on your brow and making it seem as through you were submerged in a fever dream. “Only you wanted a child, I didn’t. How can you be so blind to not see that?”, you would murmur, too lost to evade the hole you were digging yourself into.

Your captor’s lips would thin as he was reminded about the darker aspects of your relationship.

Talk about popping a balloon with a needle, there goes all that happiness and excitement, blown away by a few cruel realisations. Of course, due to your relationship not being of an overly violent nature the fall-out wouldn’t be harsh in the direct, tangible sense. Needless to say, Canada would be pissed that you just had to go on and ruin the whole show and his dreams of a saccharine future.

He’ll skilfully dismissed that you would have been coerced into bearing a child (if not by the worst way you can get pregnant) and tell everybody that would even catch wind that there was something sinister buried deep, that you were just hysterical because of all the residue hormones from the delivery and the exhaustion. That is, if he has too.  

China

A fine, pencil thin eyebrow would rise as he condescendingly regarded your disarrayed constitution. Calmly, he would turn to the midwife he had order and take the new-born expertly out of their arms while stating:

“We thank you sincerely for your services. Please, leave now that I may calm my wife down.”

They would nod and quickly scurry out of the room.

Snake-yellow eyes would stare fondly at the infant weakly kicking at the blankets and thin lips stretched to an endearing smile as a tiny, waxy hand was extended up to his face. Gently, he would shift his arms so one hand was free. The baby would snatch the outstretched index finger as soon as they would have the chance, clumsily stuffing it in their mouth and sucking.

Yao wouldn’t even glance your way as he would seat himself on the edge of the mattress, however, his scolding words said with such calmness would add a crude shadow to the picturesque image:

“All your tantrums are growing increasing petty. You should restrain your emotions before you go completely out of control.”

You wanted to gap at him, at his patronizing words. But more than anything else, you wanted to cry for help. Not that any would come. You were stationed in the guest room of his estate and the midwife that had been summoned was the only other person anywhere near you.

She wouldn’t aid you, not that she could. Your “lover” had a way with words – his violence wasn’t physical; it was an intangible knife that made wounds that would never heal.

Instead, you would stammer shakily: “But you said we would give it up for adoption.”

“I said I would consider it. There is a big difference there. Besides, you shouldn’t torture yourself by denying your own nature.”

At those words you would find yourself trembling. Rage would simmer like a pool of magma in your stomach and combined with exhaustion it would make you shake – a brittle leaf in the autumn wind. Your voice would crack as you seethed: “Do you have to start with this sexist nonsense out me being a woman…”

A glare would be enough to silence you.

“It is not because you’re a woman. It is because you’re a human and humans care for their kin.”

To China, it would be barbaric for you to so callously reject your very own child, the fruit of your womb, a testament of the love you two have for each other. To him, family is infinitely precious and for you to smash that vision there would be severe consequences. Whether you would like it or not, you’re going to keep the child and you’re going to love him/her. Although, you might do all that out of your own “volition”, as in China would manipulate you to extent that you’d think those thought would be yours.

England

“Shut up!”, would be his immediate response and the waspishness of his tone would be enough to make the nurse raise their eyebrows in suspicion. However, the rage upon porcelain feature and the harshly snapped instructions of “Leave” and “Not you bloody dare tell anybody about this” would be enough to make your only gate way to freedom vanish.

Money would also help seal the deal.

The baby would be in the cradle at the foot of your bed, luckily, because the expression of malevolent fury on his face told you that he would’ve broken anything in his hands in fit of rage. It was the expression of hot passion and chilled anger that one would normally attribute to a general.

Still you summoned your courage to make your case: “I never wanted this, not any of this so not give me that look. You knew I never wanted a baby, you knew that didn’t want to…“, you would yell and choke on those last words because of the memories they’d evoke.

And that window of opportunity would be what Arthur would use to crush your case to dust:

“It is funny, really, because half of the time you don’t know what you want from life”, he would say, voice dangerous soft as he approached you, the fairy fire in his green irises making your skin itch as if there was something contagious directly underneath the first few layers.

“But that doesn’t matter anyhow because your feelings are irrelevant.”

You would open your mouth to protest but only a croak your come out.

“No matter what you say, your emotions are not accurate assessments of reality. What is reality is that you don’t know what is best for you. I do, better than anybody else and that is why you need me. Face it, you’re nothing without me.

“So, except your new role of mother. I promise, you’ll grow to love it.”

As the man himself just now stated, your wants and desires are meaningless to him in the grand scheme of things, or at least, he’ll convince you of that. If you would believe that yourself, then thing would be much easier for him. Arthur would see it as another chance to degrade your identity while putting his on a pedestal.

However, if you wouldn’t fall soon for his manipulations, then he would let you feel his anger in controlled bursts. The spite would surface over your time of recovery and he would purposefully leave you alone with the child so that you would be forced to take care of them.  

France

“You will”, he’d state firmly.

Your jaw would hit the floor. Him not getting sentimental would shock you.

“It pains me to see you like this, to see you so cruel, so take those words back. What happened to my (y/n)? What happened that her morals decayed to this point? Where is her heart? Where is her compassion?”, he would sorrowfully lament, like a heart broken poet.

His touching little serenade would be enough to make the fussing baby fall silent, not to mention you.

Guilt would rise up in your gut, toxic and hot. Just what had come out of your mouth?

This would be one of the matters where he’d leave no room for his delusions, where he would even go as far as to revive all the memories of your countless grievances for the sole purpose of teaching you a lesson. It would be needed, and he would be lucid enough to recognize you as a potential threat to your own offspring.

To say the least, he would be weary of you during the next few years, least you try to get rid of the child somehow, be it through cold blooded murder or by giving them away for adoption. With the outburst you would have displayed, nothing would be off the plate in his eyes.

Russia

Violet-blue eyes would be harsh as the high north when they met yours, the warning glare enough to silence you and make something shrivel up in you. Defeated, you would press yourself back into the mattress hoping the accursed thing would swallow you whole because that would be better than all the damnation that the hardset features of your captor promised.

Therefore, it would be all the more petrifying when Russia would elect to ignore in order to turn his attention to the squirming infant in his arms, cooing lovingly and smiling.

Ivan wouldn’t take any nonsense on your part and if you hadn’t learned it at that point then you would be in double trouble. It might even descend into slaps. Although that would be a last resort, if he would feel his control slipping and resort to drastic measures in order to regain it.

He wouldn’t lose a word over your unforgivable behaviour, not the next day, not the next week, not the next year. If you would bring the topic up, then he would be quick to shut it down. However, just because he would verbalise the problem doesn’t mean there wouldn’t be any consequences for it. It would take for in the nuances of your life together – him not help you with the post-delivery recovery, often having a patronizing and degrading undertone in his voice when speaking with you, generally acting more spiteful towards you…

Those would just be a few examples. And he wouldn’t take written or spoken apologises either. Ivan wouldn’t care for lip-service, you would have to prove yourself to be a worthy and loving mother in order to get in his good books again.

[thelordstears]

I think it’s time to show some lines and how much I’ve improved eh?

“ You see, we're all living our lives confined in this little, locked room, we store our thoughts here, our dreams, our doubts, our darkest confessions. But the right people come along with a key and find the real us quivering in a corner of ourselves we fear with all our fuckin' might. All of humanity fears. And so in the span of a blink life created death to separate what is bad, and what is good. “ - Shawn Werdelstein

“ I look deep into my eyes and I swear I can see her darkness flickering in my damn eyes, she took my heart in her murderous stride, flaying me of all my salvation, tellin' me I was nothin' more then livestock on her farm of delicacies and delights. “ - Lupin Rinderez

“In the end I was never really human in the eyes of those who hate me, was I? I was always a toy to those more wicked then I, and so I have rotted in a chest of forgotten dolls and stitched together souls lost to time." - Ingretta Shazowlla

“ Some men are born for prison. They're raised in a cell, and told this is all you can ever be, and when they finally scratch their way out of that prison, they start to get homesick, so they find themselves a new cell, a new Hell, a new home away from home. Chaos is peace ta the broken man. “ - Francis Killvawhile

“ Karma doesn't care about how small the sin was, she just reaps. “ - Scarla Scottaine

“ There's something foreign about an empty bed, something unfamiliar about holding my own hand, it's like love is a language we speak, and when it leaves us we can no longer speak the language of the loveless, because we're already native in the country of love. “ - Finn Desandra

“ The darkness of my past caught up to me and killed the kind pure hearted man I thought I'd forever be, I was always doomed to become a reflection of my father. But with these bloodied and cracked pieces of me I'll bleed him with broken pieces of his reflection. “ - Alviro Conritz

“Isn't it funny? How men and women alike will pull a trigger on another when faced with a gun at their own heart, held steady in the hand of a man who never misses?” - Remington Burlwitz

“ I am Eve luring Adam to his fate.” - Belle Nalroma

“ I am a grave of fireflies and ravens whom head out to war, a wolf of death and anguish that drove me to madness. Don't you call me a freak, I'm just a little bit different, my mind is an eternal state of flickering emotion and madness that has never left me be. In truth the firing of this rifle is the only thing that keeps me alive, it is the beating of my heart and the howl in my soul, so dare you fire back with pieces of your heart shattered in the bullets? “ - Luther Woolhaun

“ I feel like a blank slate that's always re-written. “ - Wendell Ace

"I look at who I am with judgmental eyes.” - Earl Mumford

“ Believe the tales of dead men, they have a perspective like no other. “ - Earl Mumford

“ Stepping up to me ain't a fucking war, it's an execution disguised as such. “ - Saul Northutt

“ Decaying and gentle I shall be lain to rest as the Devil the world mourned. “ - Jonkiv Kramteil

“ Look, the truth is a hard pill to swallow, but swallow it you will. “ - Simon Rossburg

“ I'm a killer and a cheat, if my dagger is unstained remember, there's etches of lives lost on the handle, do you really wanna become another scar on the wood of my blade? “ - Killgrove Butcher

“ Mercy is a surefire way to meet God, so I sling an old club wrapped in barbed wire over my shoulder and watch the river spill crimson. “ - Olivia Juarez

"They call kindness weakness, so I must be the strongest bitch in town.” - Olivia Juarez

“ My wrath comes down like a cold rain of daggers when faced with the wicked, if they ain't ready to die then they best fucking prepare for it, cause those who use the powerless as a simple stepping stone to Heaven don't deserve the breath in their damn lungs. “ - Lucille Ramaswami

“ That man, that wicked fuckin' man, 'e's an old vulture sittin' atop the Church waitin' for the holy ta fall down the steeple, 'e swoops down and picks their bones 'a love, 'a holiness, 'a morality. And den, the holy become the damned. “ - Maxwell Soderstrom

“ The Devils and snakes in the grass should fear the gardener with his shovel ready to bury the pests." - Guarva Plucker

“ Don't call me your hero, cause heroes don't kill good men." - Al Hunderson

  "Brother, there's somethin' sinister brewin' in the bones of humanity, has been since the Neanderthals huddled in caves, lighting fires underneath the murky walls of a place they could call home. I'm afraid you're gonna have to be a little more specific." - Roman Hemlock "Ya can always spot the little, tinges of darkness in the bad man's eye, the little seams of pain that follows 'em." - Sandro Colorfeid

"I slither and slide into the darkness, a basilisk hiding in shadow and sin, biting into the forbidden fruit of Eden with glee and cruelty flickering in my snake likes eyes." - Vexine Hatchet

"I stood with blood on my hands and a snarl on my lip. It was from that moment on, Nico no longer were." - Nico Litchenfels

“ I'm a cutthroat fucker with his heart bared open and cruel on his trench jacket's sleeve. “ - Nico Litchenfels

"I stood like a question never asked, and then before I had the chance to give myself an answer in the echoes of my insanity, she smiled and asked who I was." - Zachariah Rinderez

"I have died a thousand times, Minerva. But you make me want to live again." - Simon Drogace

"I'm not lucky enough to be me." - Simon Drogace

“Do you ever feel like, your mind is a hammer?” - Simon Drogace

"He stood there, like a wicked omen of what never should've been, a testament to all humanity tried to kill." - Neal Marrows

"Losing yourself is a game no one can win." - Neal Marrows

"You know me, just a grave of who I was, grasping the soil wondering why it always slips between my fingers." - Sam Dellwotfire

"Someone once asked me what life before war was like, and truthfully, I've never known." - Hunter Creasey

"You spend your whole life under the shadow of death it starts to become you, and as you let the light it in, as you let your heart burst in seams of color and little figments of love and joy, that's when the shadow casts itself over you the longest. As soon as you start to live, death comes on by to greet you as if she were an old friend, and as I live through the essence of love and peace, I can see a smile filled with the lost lives of all whom ever walked greeting me on a road all too familiar." - Hunter Creasey

"I'm the mad man's greatest friend, but in the eyes of the sane, in the eyes of all whom stand against cruelty, I'm a weapon, an atomic bomb that'll level the city of peace to dust." - Moores Thomas

"It is in madness and grief we find who we really are. So who's to say humanity was supposed to live in peace? After all, even our mind tells us things we could never dream of with intrusive thoughts, and in the end some of us succumb to the darkness every single mind brews." - Moores Thomas

"You see, madness starts with a small seed the human race calls trouble, it comes in many different variants, some get in very small dosages all their lives. But mad men get a taste of trouble long before they know what the word means." - Moores Thomas

"The way I see love, it's an interesting sort of medicine. One moment it stitches together the loose threads of your heart, and in the very next it unravels you like a spool of thread." - Cornelius Combs

"I walked into the Church only to be spat out, falling down the sinner's steeple coughing up bloodied pieces of my faith." - Takizen Fruivein

"Challenging what I've become is a fools game, and my friend, I am no fool." - Allinza Harzvi

"Humanity is not inherently kind, everything we've seen, and everything we are, is proof of that testament." - Allinza Harzvi

"We are never in the same boat, we are in the same storm, facing life's darkness with different privilege's." - Caldvain Lucelo

"You know, someone once told me you have control over your own mind, but as it drifts away from me as smoke in the dying embers of a midnight wildfire, does that statement still hold true?" - Harvin Scoviney

"God does not help. He observes." - Victor Da Ville

“ You can't explain what evil means without mentioning the feared name of Cassidy Vanderberg. “ - Cassidy Vanderberg

“ I'm a hero, and I know, it's a heroes curse to go down in history, shooting her glory through the chamber of a revolver, leaving the world with the gunfire smoke of her gun, but so be it man, so fucking be it. “ - Miella Fang

“ Tragedy runs through my veins like the blood I bleed.” - Harkman Burtrow

“ You can run your hands through these cracked and yellowed pages, wondering when I lost my mind, but you won't find any answers in my chapters. “ - Mortelo Vonenwoft

“ ”You ever feel there’s jus’ this empty box where your heart’s supposed ta be? I've shoved all my monsters in this box, my addictions, my anxiety, the thoughts that don't go away. But sometimes, the box starts ta open, and I can't even push the door back, cause I'm too busy with this ghost followin' me like a yappin' chihuahua. “ - Isadore Rast

“ Everyone is always sayin' you're strong, for fightin' past that hurt, but am I? I didn't fight, I fuckin' stumbled, I fell, it wasn't just a battle, it was a god damn war I still wage. The gunfire echoes and cocaine ghosts will never leave me be, cause I made the mistake of losin' myself ta the bad side of life, and I just can't forgive myself for that kinda shit. “ - Isadore Rast

“ I'm not a recoverin' addict, I'm just a fuckin' ghost. “ - Carrigan Hopva

“ I met myself on a dead end street, she looked distraught, with chunks of hair missing, cigarette on her lip, trying to light a match in the rain, eyes troubled with memories of what would be. She told me to keep my enemies close, cause god damn, they were everywhere, but she never told me I'd be standin' in a house of mirrors. “ - Rain Morvosina

“ I tell myself, I could've done better, I could've saved the circus, but truthfully, not a single man can stop fate in its tracks, he would become another splatter on her railroad within a series of seconds and terrible events. “ - Bortosley Velltwo

“ I'm guilty ‘a first degree, of lil ol' me." - Howard Wraith

“ Oh mum if ya could see me now, sinnin' on the other side 'a paradise lookin' for reasons ta stain me teeth the color of me jacket. “ - Davy Blight 

“ I ain't the poor lil' boy who shot at 'is brother with orange capped revolvers and plastic swords, mate, I'm the real fuckin' deal. This venom 'a trouble and sin flows like blood in me veins, corruptin' the essence 'a who I fuckin' was. “ - Davy Blight

“ I'm the darkness your mother says ta stray away from, the boogeyman ya're mum tells ya snatches away naughty boys and girls in the dead 'a night, and worst of all mate, I'm Lind fuckin' Blight, bastard son of the seas. “ - Lind Blight

“ I'm just old honey whiskey sitting on the shelf gathering dust and mildew, locked in this little cabin of darkness and decay, wondering why no one cares to pop open my cork and let this darkness and mold spill to the soil of a freshly dug grave. “ - Roxane Vanderberg

“ I met her in a garden 'a roses, and there she stood as the only thorn. “ - Kayella Wisp

“ I've gunned bad men down on the streets, cackling and sinful they died, cruel and wicked they lived. “ - Hoshino Akinori

“ I once went into an old confession booth, sins sat heavy at my shoulder, salvation far off as it always seemed to be, and as that preacher listened to my darkest secrets I was sure he would damn me. But he told me salvation is for all, and that God loves whosoever follows the path of the righteous. “ - Erika Vans

“ I used ta live with one foot in the grave, wondering when the hell I'd become my last name, but then I met a wise man in the woods and found myself once again. Sometimes, we're lost, and we don't even know it. So I think destiny sends us a Messiah to lead the way ta who we are, and as Pennington took my hand in the darkness, I knew I'd found who I am past all this trouble. “ - Alonzo Graves

“ I traverse this labyrinth of my heart and soul, trying to find myself in the midst of all this trouble, but these mirrors are starting to look like enemies, and this maze is starting to become a prison cell. “ - Andre Jollows

“ Deep in my soul is the sound of war calling me home, and death whispers in my bones that she wishes to hold me close as I fade gently into the stars, but I sigh strapping my boots on in the morning, putting this old gas mask on my face and facing another venomous day. For I am a curse, wondering where my blessings went." - Max Caldiph

“ If my heart were a painting, it would be a starless night sky, the trees wilted, stripped of their leaves standing as threadbare omens of the bones etched in darkness that hold me up and the roses would be black, decaying with some dead scent of mercy burning whosoever walks into this garden of death's nose. “ - Apollos Quinn

“ Who I am ain't even me, he's just someone I've been for too long.” - Drew Dreadful

“ I died halfway to Heaven and too close ta Hell. “ - Dylan Huffers

“ I was living a life of trouble and cigarette smoke, chasing lies as if I were just a harmless little kitten, batting my hands at another yarn ball, always wondering why it ran away from me, but as my mother held me in a gentle embrace and showed me the way to paradise, I found out that it's better to be you then somebody else. “ - Scottie Bloodvallo

“ My mama once told me sometimes you gotta fall and stumble to learn who you are, because it's as trouble and peace wage war that we discover who's side we're on, and as those old foes grabbed their rifles and loaded their cannons, I came to realize I never wanted trouble to become who I am. So I picked up my guns and fired a couple rounds of peace into my head. “ - Marty Thievekit

“ You wanna run with the wolves, but brother you're sparrin' with chihuahuas, ya wanna play with the big boys, but you're frolicking in a garden full of gnomes and fairies, you wanna go knuckle to knuckle with your demons, but brother you surround yourself in angels. Do you really expect to kill a man while you're swingin' plastic blades and firin' bullets from a cap gun? “ - Walton Burke

"The truth will always sound like a lie to he who doesn't want to admit he's wrong. “ - Stewart Astoria

“ I'm tied up and tangled in the webs of madness, cackling at the midnight sky as these bastards try to fire bullets of sanity my way. But god damn baby, I'm bullet proof. I take what I want when I want it, so as I slam these bullets of madness into the echoed chamber of my revolver and put a few holes in my mind do you think it'll be me seepin' through the corners of this old mental ward, or will the ground pool crimson with my sanity? Guess there's no way of knowin' til I pull this trigger, sanity and purity spilling like crimson ink in my mind. “ - Ares Malstone

“ Forevermore I shall stand as a threadbare omen of the unholiest parts of mankind, drifting away from myself like the wildfire smoke of a dying confession.” - Alastair Sambridge

“ My mother once stared me dead in the eye and said I was not so holy, one day I would sputter up all the pieces of me and succumb to the Devil inside, and I must say, the old wicked witch was right. My father told me I was just a sin, drifting forevermore into the midnight sky, and as I pulled the trigger upon a battlefield I came to realize fate vows for promises made by wicked people. So by God, I vow to die, I vow to choke on these holy pieces of me and sputter up my dying breath. “ - Alastair Sambridge

“ Who I am is such a far cry from who I was, if you looked at a photograph of me at ten years old you wouldn't recognize the eyes that smile, for as you look into the cracked lenses and into my eyes, it is not me you find. But rather, it is the insanity that swam in Calzell's eyes when I met him." - Ackilzo Thyme

“ My mother once told me that rage whispers into the ears of the broken that they deserve nothing more then this unsteady heart beat of broken bottles and cracked knuckles, but it's the ever smiling lip of peace that brings the sorrowed man back to himself. So I oughta wonder why peace keeps on scowlin' at me. “ - Varvaina Escobar

“ It seems it is the nature of humanity to point blame at those who are howling with regret, love beating empty in an open chest. “ - Sarkelus Johnson

“ Sometimes, life just fades before your eyes and ya don't have enough time to catch it, so you slowly drift away from it yearning for the gentle touch of death. But you know what? We all need a hero every once and awhile, and as Barbara lays her head against my chest, dancing her fingers across my shoulders and cheek, I think I damn well found my hero. “ -Rob Percstand

“ I don't wanna die with dreams, I wanna die with memories, man. “ - Revie Scollinew

"In the outback of Montana my tale began in crimson stained history. I look to my aunts and uncles and see murder deep inside of their hearts, but they should've thought twice before taking my heart in their rough hands, for there is something dark that's brewing inside of me, and if I were them, I would start looking underneath the bed for monsters." - Enoch Avoxin

"There's a certain truth, to madness." - Zachariah Rinderez

"Hold honor close to your heart and you'll end its beat." - McKormick McReavey

"You know, everybody says, this won't happen to me, I'm just your average everyday person, collecting my paycheck, paying my bills, living my day to day life just like everybody else. But what we seem to forget is that we're all normal people, we're all just a little bit average enough to stand out. And when these tragic things do happen to us, we stand in a stunned silence our whole world falling apart, and all we can utter is, "This can't be happening to me." - Ray Burzfoll

"If I could strip the emotion from my mind I fear I would do so in a heart beat." - Wyatt Demouchett

"Love comes and goes but power drifts on by and stays." - Dastallio Sanchez

"Darkness has intertwined itself within my heart sputtering the light from out my throat." - Cornelius Shmackelstein

“I am not myself, so what the fuck am I?" - Coraiza Scotchfuel

"Living in reality is the most cruel form of torture for a mad man." - Draven Scotchfuel

"It is as if she makes my black and white heart burst with some form of color it's never seen." - Armello Vanrick

"Perhaps it was always a mirror hiding inside of my closet." - Julie Forkroad

"The world went dark before it fell, we were just playing a waiting game." - Brooke Bergmeir

"I've got more fighting days left than you have years." - Maximo Guanch

"If everything exists, nothing does, really." - Arthur Wellburn

[champagne-bucky]

21 & 73 hehe

Captain’s Orders

Summary: You disobeyed your captain, now what’s your punishment?

Warnings: Dom/Sub themes, spanking, Captain! Rogers x female reader, gagging, orgasm denial (female reader)

Maybe you shouldn’t have teased your Captain as much as you did, but you couldn’t help it. Captain Rogers had been singling you out since you were assigned to his team of recruits. You saw the way he eyed you up and down when you were training in a sports bra. He secretly wanted you, anybody with eyes could see that, but he would never admit it. Until one night that is.

It happened after a rather rough mission. Steve thought he would’ve lost his entire team until you pulled something extremely stupid. Steve would not stop yelling at you the entire flight back to the compound. Calling you moronic and unprofessional, threatening to kick you off the team, but you knew he wouldn’t.

After the flight, you made your way back to your room before Steve could chew you out some more. How the man never got tired was always a mystery to your team. Steve probably would take a five minute cool down and then come to your room to berate you more. Which is exactly what happened.

He charged his way into your room without as much as a knock before entering. Steve was so furious that he was past the point of being calmly talked down to. Somehow, in your fucked up, but mostly horny head, you found him to be quite irresistible when he was pissed off at you. So, you figured it was worth a shot and you put your hand on his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Captain. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” you bit your lip as Steve froze in place. Sure, he always thought you were attractive, and maybe he was even guilty for fantasizing about you while in training, but you were his teammate.

Ah fuck it.

Steve had been way too pissed off and way too horny to not take this opportunity. It’s not everyday that his bratty, stupid, and beautiful teammate would come onto him. Screw the protocols, screw the morals, screw…. screw whatever Fury would probably lecture him about later. He wanted you. He needed you.

Steve wasted no time and grabbed you by the neck. You gasped in shock as he squeezed enough to get you to be quiet.

“Usually I like to reprimand my team with a suspension, but I think this should do the trick,” Steve walked you backwards to the bed and threw you down. You gasped for air as he went straight to your uniform pants and ripped them off.

“Steve,” he slapped your thigh harshly as you whined out.

“Wrong, Agent,” he dared you to even move an inch as he went to your drawers to look for something.

“I’m sorry, Captain, but this is wrong. I mean, I wanted this for a long time, but we can get in trouble! I could get suspended or terminated,” Steve turned back to face you. He has a belt in one hand, a gag in the other, and a sinister smirk on his lips.

“I don’t care if it’s wrong, Agent. You broke the rules, disobeyed your Captain, and now you’ll be paying the price,” part of you was scared, but the other part of you was horny as hell.

“Now, be a good little doll and take off the rest of your clothes,” you shredded yourself of all your clothing out of fear of what Steve would do.

“Good, now bend over, Captain’s orders,” you were shaking as he slapped the belt down in his hands. As you turned around, you heard him shuck off the rest of his clothes. You were both bare naked now.

You shrieked in pain as the first slap of the belt came to your ass. Steve shushed you as he rubbed his hand over the fresh spot.

“You get ten of these. If I hear even the tiniest peep out of you I double it. Be quiet,” your bit down on your lip and the Captain unleashed hell on you.

You don’t know how you kept quiet the whole time, but if your now bloodied, swollen lip was any indication of how good you were being, the Captain was impressed.

“Do you want to stop?” Steve switched back to the caring version of himself. You shook your head, but that wasn’t good enough.

“I need a verbal answer, baby,” Steve put his large palms on both cheeks and rubbed the pain away.

“No, Captain,” you whined as the comfort Steve’s palms were giving you.

“Turn over, Agent. We aren’t done yet,” it took all your energy, but you finally turned around. Steve held up the gag and your eyes widened.

“Remember, we still have a punishment to finish,” you bit your lip and tried to tease him. You were getting more aroused now that you saw his proud cock standing fully erect.

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that. Open your mouth,” you shook your head as you broke out into a smile. You loved to tease your captain.

Steve turned back into the Captain and roughly grabbed you by the back of the neck. “When I tell you to open your mouth, you do it. When I give an order I expect it to be followed through. Now, do what I ask or you’ll regret it,” you shivered from his low, dangerous voice.

You complied and opened your mouth so he could put the gag in. He was everything but gentle as he stuffed the gag into your mouth and fastened it really tight. Immediately, you started to drool around the gag.

The Captain started to stroke himself slowly at the sight of you. He wished you had ropes somewhere in your secret drawer, he longed to tie you up and leave you absolutely helpless. There was always a next time.

Steve made his way to your shaking thighs and spread them wide. He started to tease you by stroking his big hands up and down them, each time getting closer to your dripping center. He finally stopped teasing you and himself when his fingers started to graze you.

He took the knuckle of his finger and gave a small stroke towards your center, enough to gather some wetness. You moaned as the Captain brought his finger to his mouth and started to lick some of it off.

“You taste divine, doll,” he proceeded to do it again. This time running the pad of his thumb around your center.

The Captain didn’t let up until he had you close to the edge. You were so close to cumming that you started to shake in excitement. He kept on touching you without actually penetrating you. You moaned extraordinarily loud as your Captain smirked at you.

“That’s a good girl. Go ahead baby, take it all. Take my fingers,” he said as he plunged deep into your wet channel.

You began to arch your back off the bed as the Captain’s once agonizingly slow pace turned brutal. He had you squelching and buzzing each time his fingers went in and out.

“Is my baby doll gonna cum for me?” You began to nod profusely as the sounds your pussy was making became louder and louder.

“Aww, baby doll. You know, I’d just love to make you cum all over your captain’s fingers, but you remember what this is right?” Fear began to strike in your heart at the sudden realization.

“This is a punishment, baby, and it’s not over yet,” you practically screamed as he withdrew his fingers.

Your eyes widened as you saw Steve put back on his clothes, and yet leaving you tied up.

“Oh don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll be back, soon,” you started to whine and groan as he left the room.

“Maybe…”

[nickyandmikey]

talk a little life with me

hi anon i took this opportunity to basically say whatever came to mind i’m sorry if you were only expecting a few sentences and hope you don’t mind sdhfjksd <3

TLDR; a little life is so interesting to think about when it comes what should and shouldn't be "allowed" in art, but still it feels emotionally manipulative for me, and the question of who the target audience is is worrying at best... The contents of the book itself were a lot of times straight up evil, yet i couldn't help be touched by the story that was told; the story of someone's life "as inconcievable as it is" will always feel like a privilege to hear/read about (even if it's fiction). i just really really wish it could've been done in a way that felt more like it was honoring certain experiences instead of being as harsh as it was.

(under the cut i get into it a "bit" more, so if you wanna read what i was thinking about as i was losing my mind through the last 100 pages, go ahead - but it IS like a mile long i warned you lmao)

What's interesting for me to think about regarding a little life is the discussions to be had about its right to exist. It has become sort of infamous for being very difficult to read. Everybody wants to know what all the fuss is about, people always have a perverse interest in taboo things, wanting to get a peek at the worst of the worst etc. And i've always thought of myself as someone who has a high tolerance for brutality and violence (in fiction!!!), so i also wanted to see how much of it i could take, pretty much just to be able to say that i did it, i finished it and prove to myself… what exactly? Idk. But here comes up my first problem: that the whole book can feel like an exercise in just how many absurdly, sometimes cartoonishly, evil things the author can throw in there. The reader is faced with an endurance test, and those who complete it are now part of an exclusive club. So what's the message here? Does there need to be one? Does any art need to have a moral to justify its existence? What should and shouldn't be limited and would taking away the most difficult parts of this book be censorship? I don't really have answers, i just find myself being like "including this part doesn't sit right with me" then asking impossible questions about the purpose of art and what it serves and how.

Despite this, one question still remains: who is this book for? Because i cannot imagine it would be an endurable read for someone who has gone through any of the numerous trigger warning-worthy events and experiences depicted. So that leaves those who had not, those who can only imagine, which includes myself. This creates a story only to be consumed as a spectacle for those who wish to be shocked by, to marvel at, to feel pity for people who cannot be present at their very own exhibition, because it is designed to be that way (also, as i mentioned, the book now has a reputation that precedes the reading experience, people obviously wanting to see for themselves just how fucked up it gets). So tossing aside all musings about what art should do and mean, i cannot help but feel that there is something exploitative being done here, even though it's a fictional story with fictional characters. Or maybe i'm being presumptuous, and i should appreciate that Yanagihara doesn't shy away from portraying the more brutal aspects of life. Then again, is it honest? Exploitative? Cruel? Does it exist only to shock? Is it a problem if it does? I really don't know. Maybe i've also misjudged people's ability to see reflections of their traumas portrayed as they are in a little life, so i'm sorry if that's the case, though just how much any one person can endure is of course individual. Typing this i realize the question i'm really asking myself is "can i call this sensationalist and exploitative without belittling real people's experiences of abuse, mental illness, disability etc?". Maybe manipulative is a better word for it?

I think for me personally the best way to describe this book is "exhausting". it's so emotionally draining and mentally taxing. It took me almost a year to finish, and i can be a slow reader sure, but at some points i just didn't have enough energy to take away from other parts of my life for this. Basically, there were months between me reading the first 2/3rds and the last 1/3rd so my memory of the beginning and middle of the story was able to mellow and lose some of its painfulness lmao. But it really is so all consuming, it enters your mind so deeply and it doesn't leave for days or weeks after reading any amount.

Reading about someone's life in its entirety is such an overwhelming experience. Seeing it unfold in front of you in a few hundred pages the decades someone (albeit someone fictional) had lived through, all the pain, the joy, the suffering, the glory… indescribable. And despite the often graphic imagery, the vividness of the details that made me wince and want to turn away from the book altogether, i still grew to love the characters. And they grew to be a part of me, no matter my gripes and doubts and iffiness about certain things. For this i am thankful.

SPOILER ALERT FOR THE ENDING FROM HERE. First of all, Willem's death. Trying to comprehend the enormity of Jude's loss feels impossible. I don't think there are words accurate enough for it, and this inability to understand on my part - due to being young and not having had the chance to develop that sort of history with someone - in itself becomes an experience for which no words exist, if that makes sense. After all, how do you give name to the experience of trying to imagine the unimaginable, you know.

Then there's the Ending ending. i feel there is something very dangerous about how beautiful it was, how inevitable. Something sinister in its implications but i don't think i can get into it now, not eloquently enough.

All in all, i wish it wasn't something you had to shield yourself from, putting up walls just to keep going forward, paying half attention at a few points, hurrying through plotlines to get to the end of them finally. I guess i just wish it had been more gentle. Finishing a little life is a sigh of relief, and in many ways it is an impossible book.

[junquisite]

Treasure

WORD COUNT : 2.1K

GENRE : Supernatural AU, Spirit! Donghun X OC

WARNING : The OC has slightly ambiguous Morals, implied violence, mentions of murder, implied murder, very little mention of blood, PLEASE IT’S SOFT DON’T WORRY!!

NOTE : Hello, i came up with this idea last night at 2.30 in the morning, told @unknown5tar​ about it, then ended up writing this in like 2-3 hours. so enjoy~

The mountain top was reputed - reputed to hold the biggest treasure one couldn't even imagine and no man has ever reached there but the claims still live. The path was dangerous - journey worth weeks that you can't bring enough food for, thunder strikes and too heavy rain and snow or dust storms comprising the unpredictable weather you could never prepare for. And if all that was not enough, there were wild animals to fight you, and ofcourse the dragon at the top of the mountain. 

So Donghun just blinked at the girls standing at the mouth of the cave with his mouth agape.

“How did you get here?” he asked as the girl looked at him quickly and pulled her sword out from behind her.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” she asked as she took frantic steps towards him and he stepped back with his hands raised.

“I’m the spirit of this cave.” he said when her sword was a feather away from his face.

“A spirit? Do you guard the treasure?” she asked as her eyes flickered to her surroundings.

“You can say so. Now if you can just take that sword away from my face.” he said and she took it away, her whole attention at the inside of the cave. Probably looking for the treasure, Donghun thought. 

“Aren't you a spirit? Why would you be scared of a mere sword?” she asked offhandedly as she walked around the barren cave and he was getting nervous as he followed her to the inside of the cave where there was a slight opening at the top reaching the peak of the mountain as she looked around.

“I might be a spirit but I'm still a mortal.” he mumbled as she turned to stare at him.

“How would that even work..” she mumbled but before he could explain she shrugged.

“Whatever spirit, where’s the treasure? It took me almost a month to get here, give me my treasure.” she asked him with a big smile and he just gave her a small smile.

“The real treasure is the friends you made on the way here.”

 There was a scary silence which settled in the cave where she stared at him and Donghun willed his heart to not jump out of his chest. She had a sword that she was clearly not afraid to use.

“You're joking aren't you? is this some test to see if i’m worth the treasure or not because I need my treasure spirit!” she spoke, her words getting louder as she stepped closer to him, crowding him against the wall.

“That is the real treasure. You must not have made it here alone on your own, the friends were the real treasure.”

She started laughing at that and it scared the spirit further.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked as she took a few steps away to sit down on the floor and laugh. When she had calmed down enough she looked at him sharply.

“So you’re telling me the 6 people I left behind to get here were the supposed treasure?” she asked and he nodded.

“What happened to them?” he asked and she shrugged.

“2 died during the climb, one of them got eaten by a tiger we encountered and the other 2 got caught by your precious dragon. He must not have to go out to hunt for a while now.” she said, her lips turning up slightly as she spoke.

“And what about the last one?” he asked and she gave him a sinister smile.

“I didn't want to split the treasure.” she said simply and laughed at Donghun’s mortified face. “Don't look so scared now. I won't kill you spirit.” she said as she got up and dusted her cloth.

“Don't you have a name though? I’ll start, I’m Kim Minji, and you?” she asked as she started wandering the cave again.

“Lee Donghun.” he said slowly and watched her head bob in acknowledgment.

“Aren't you hungry? Do you not eat?” she asked and he looked away. “I don't.”

She laughed loudly when his stomach grumbled at that exact moment.

“I'm going to stick around for a while spirit until I find something worth taking back with me. So share your food with me.” she said as she waited for him at the center of the opening, her hands on her waist making her look more serious then she probably was but it got the point across as Donghun scrambled to go to one of the tunnels just on the other side of the opening. 

He heard her gasp as she entered behind him to the small garden.

“What would you like?” he asked as she looked around.

Figuring she was probably not going to answer anything anytime soon, he started gathering the fruits and berries and anything edible in the small garden he felt like eating.

“This is so fascinating but do you really get enough to eat daily?” she asked and he looked at her confused.

“What do you mean? They bloom and fruit everyday?” he asked. Wasn't that how it was everywhere?

Her open mouth gaping at him made him think maybe it was in fact, not like this everywhere.

“Aren't you going to eat?” he asked as he filled a container with the water behind the garden and she followed him like a puppy to the opening. It made him laugh for some reason.

 After eating she literally groaned and proceeded to lie down on the floor and sigh happily.

“I haven't eaten this much in years and this wasn't even meat.”

Donghun had many questions but what came out of his mouth was,“Meat?”

She sat up at that. “You have never had meat?” she asked and he shook his head.

“What is it?”

“It's basically the flesh of animals but cooked.” 

He scrunched up his face at that. “That's so disgusting.” he said and she laughed.

“I'll change your mind and get you some one day.” she said as she got up and strolled a little away from him and settled in a little corner as Dognhun looked up at the little sky opening above their head, it was getting dark.

“Are you sleeping?” he asked and she nodded as she pulled the small raggish looking bag he remembered her bringing and pulled out a tattered blanket she wrapped herself in.

A few minutes passed and Minji was almost asleep when she felt someone pulling her blanket away. She was about to fight when she felt something more solid and warm being wrapped around her and she smiled and snuggled in.

 A loud noise woke her up and she looked up to see it was about a little earlier than Dawn, the sun was probably about to rise she assumed as she picked up her sword and walked to the entryway of the cave. She peeked outside as two men from her village were holding Donghun at sword point. 

“Stop lying to us spirit! Tell us where the treasure is!”

She stood back as she looked at them. He was a spirit, he must be alright. She thought as she looked at the scene. She recognised the men.

They must have followed me and my group for an easy way, she thought as one of them looked around at the sparse belongings of the spirit and the other held Donghun with his sword in his face. When the first man kicked off a small bundle to the floor and clothes fell from it, Donghun tried to stop them and convince them that there was really no treasure. 

She wasn't going to interfere, she had no need to since he was a spirit, but when the one holding the sword pierced his neck’s skin and drew out blood, she sighed as she stepped out.

“You really have no shame. Was the plan to take the treasure off of my hands when I would get back to the village not enough that you came here following me too?” she said as her own sword dangled lightly from her hands.

She heard Donghun softly whisper her name and winked at him.

“Now why don't you leave my pretty spirit alone and deal with someone who can not only take you on but also probably defeat you.” she said and smirked as she knew she ticked them off.

15 minutes later she was standing with her own feet on top of that man’s head as she cleaned her face of blood with her jacket. She kicked him as she went to check on Donghun who was peeking from the opening and she smiled at him.

“I’ll drag the bodies outside, I'm sure your dragon would love that.” 

“I'm not your pretty spirit.” he grumbled as he looked down on the ground, but quickly looked at her when he heard her laugh loudly.

“From everything I did, you chose to pick up on that?” as she left him to drag the bodies out. 

A few minutes later she came back only for Donghun to thrust a pair of clothes towards her.

“There is a stream from that entrance.. You can clean up, I won't peak.” he said and his red cheeks were begging for her to tease him, so she did.

“I won't mind if you would.” she said and winked at him, and left laughing to the entrance he pointed as she heard him choking.

 That morning  after eating something for breakfast, when she was stretching on the ground and Donghun was sitting in the corner, observing her, she stared back at him.

“What do you usually do here?” she asked and he shrugged.

“Nothing?” she asked and he nodded and she whistled. “I’m equally parts sad and happy for you.” and she sat up, a serious look on her face.

 “I have decided what I want for treasure.” she said and saw Donghun visibly gulp.

“You. i'll have you as my treasure.” she said with a huge smile and he tried to stutter out a response which wasn't coherent enough for her to make sense.

“Hear me out,” she tried to stop him from hyperventilating and when he took a couple deep breaths and nodded at her to  go on, she smiled.

“I’ll stay here. There's nothing calling me back to my village, I've got no one. I'll stay and protect you from people like them and i’ll even take you out!” she saw as his face was slightly scared but at the prospect of going outside, it lightened up.

“You’ll.. Take me out?” he said and she nodded.

“Okay..can i trust you though?” he asked and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“I just saved your life?” she questioned back and he glared at her.

“You also killed them with no remorse.” he said and she shrugged.

“Fair enough. But you can trust me, I'll also teach you to defend yourself my mortal spirit.” she said and threw him her sword which he caught, slightly scared.

“I’ll agree then.” 

~

“Do you think it'll be alright for me to leave the cave?” Donghun asked her and she rolled her eyes at him.

“For the hundredth time Donghun, yes. You yourself told me that I was the only one who came in the past 3 years.” she said as she stepped out with her sword behind her back and a bag full of fruits to trade off for some money.

“How are you today faei.” she cooed at the dragon who rubbed her giant head at Minji’s tiny hands.

“It didn't really took her that long to get comfortable with you.” Donghun said and Minji smiled.

“I never knew it was her. Women bond quickly, don't we Faei.” she said, the last part directed at the dragon who made an elated noise at her and Minji laughed.

“We’ll go to the other village, the opposite to mine. The people at mine must be anticipating either my death or me returning with that treasure to steal it from me. So let’s go to the other village.” she told him and he nodded as she turned towards the other way.

“Lets go!” she said as she grabbed Donghun’s hand and his ear turned red and he looked away.

“We’ll eat bread?” he asked and she smiled and nodded. Then he proceeded to name all the food she has ever mentioned to him and a few steps forward she was full on laughing and nodding at his every word.

“And meat of course!” she added as he scrunched his face at the suggestion.

“How preposterous!” he said as he made a horrified face and she laughed.

“I’ll get you used to it, my precious spirit.” as she pulled him closer with a hand around his waist and he looked away.

She got his attention with giving him a small peck on his cheeks and he was quick to look her way, his whole face read now as he tried to stutter out a response.

“Let’s go my spirit.”

“Not your spirit.” he managed to mumble out and the mountain forest resounded with her laugh.

[bruh-haikyuu]

A/N: It’s finally my birthday month and I am, once again, filling up the Konoha agenda. Today I offer you Konoha propaganda... Tomorrow? Konoha propaganda.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (Coming Soon!)

ensemble. | konoha akinori

part 2 - poco a poco.

word count: 8618

warnings: MC’s brothers have a heavy... sister-complex; overworking

(n.) little by little

‘Help’ wasn’t an unfamiliar word for you. Helping other people with their homework (to none of their avails), helping your bandmates with lifting the appliances, etcetera, etcetera. Do as much as you can, was what your parents told you as a child, and that was what you did, regardless of who asked.

Therefore, it certainly piqued your interest that Suzuki Ume, captain of the school’s marching band, and the two managers of the Boys’ Volleyball Club had crept their way into the Light Music Club room to ask you for a favor.

“Ooh, a cheering song’s certainly a new genre,” you piped up. “I used to try and convince my club members to switch to another style, but they’re too quick to reject me, y’know? PARANOIA as an idol group wouldn’t be so bad~”

The thought of the ever-stoic Mizushima Reo wearing a frilly idol costume had the Marching Band Club captain stifling a snort. “It would definitely be a sight...”

“I think we can all agree that when it comes to composing music and lyrics, you’re our first choice,” Kaori piped up. “If we can get the message across, then it would be a solid form of motivation for the team—or Bokuto at least, especially with the qualifying tournaments coming up.”

“Plus, Konoha would love it if you made a song for him, no?” Yukie followed, her languid gaze trailing up to your smiling face.

You’d nearly forgotten that Akinori belonged with the Volleyball Club. You were third-years now, both in the last moments of your high school youth. The teachers had started counselling for future prospects, your classmates had started worrying whether or not their current marks would bring them far in life, and as a whole, the third-years have begun to panic. You didn’t mind though—as long as you had your rock-hard conviction and your pragmatic boyfriend, you felt like you could do anything you wanted.

“Ah, I almost forgot that you and Konoha-kun were an item,” Ume said, her eyes twinkling. “So, how’s it? Have you two kissed yet?”

Faking a pout, you crossed your arms in mock offense, “Very scandalous, Umecchi. My virgin lips aren’t ready to be taken away yet, you know...”

“Kidding, kidding~ so, Y/N-san, would you like to do the honors of composing the Fukurodani Volleyball Club anthem for us?”

“No thank you!” you chirped, smiling earnestly.

The faces of your three guests fell.

Seeing their distressed expressions, you laughed, “I was just messing with you~ You guys are too serious. Sure, I’ll make the song. It’ll be fun, right?”

Kaori cleared her throat, reaching into her pocket to hand you a scrap of folded paper. “R-right... Anyway, here’s some ideas we collected to get you started. I’ve also written our numbers at the bottom, if you have any questions.”

“Though something tells me you already have them,” the droopy-eyed manager grinned.

Chuckling, your eyes flitted through the daintily-written notes and doodles scrawled all over the paper, “Yep. These notes are good. I’ll report back to you when I finish my final draft.”

“That’ll be great,” Ume sighed in relief. “But don’t work yourself restless, alright? Mizushima-san told me you’re those types of people who don’t stop until they get it done. We’re all third-years now, so we’ll be happy to lend a hand.”

“Of course,” was the answer you said to them, because it was the right answer. The moral answer. Instead of the more worrying: It’s fine, I might pass out from working too hard, but at least I’ll finish the job.

As the three “left the song in your care”, you escorted them back to the third-year hallways while replaying their entire conversation with you in your head. Oh, they were certainly a curious trio, walking into the lion’s den naked. But from all the curious things they’ve told you, one resounded loudly in your memory.

“Have you two kissed yet?”

Somberly laughing to yourself, you thought that, ah, that might be trouble.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Akinori’s ears were threatening to fall off their places from the two-hour long lecture about the Tokugawa shogunate. Whose grand idea was it anyway to put Japanese History as last period? He was ready to melt into a weary puddle right on the school’s entrance, but you, on the other hand, seemed even more chipper than usual.

“Geez, what’s up with all the extra energy? You’re like Bokuto...” he groaned. “Didn’t you have Modern Literature as your last subject?”

“Yep, but I’m not allowed to get tired now!” you laughed, exuberantly slapping his back to get him out of his slump. “We’ve got no club activities today, right? Let’s go to that new cafe in Shinjuku, just to get your energy back~”

“Mm... parfait would be nice. But why are you so particularly tireless now?”

“Ooh, I’ve got a new job to do,” you said while grinning impishly. “The marching band and the Volleyball Club asked me this morning.”

Smiling sympathetically, Akinori ruffled your hair. A force of habit. “Bokuto didn’t ask you to do anything weird, right?”

You shook your head, as you paused to stop in the middle of the courtyard to look at him properly. “Your managers asked me. Yuki-chan and Kaorin. They want me to make a cheering song for you for the qualifying tournaments.”

“Whoa, seriously?” he exclaimed, exhaustion replaced with that of wonder. “That’s really cool, Y/N-chan! I can’t wait to see what you’re going to write.”

The blonde’s hand fell from the crown of your head to the slope of your shoulder, the comfort from his palm spreading into your chest. Under the light of the afternoon sun, Akinori seemed much warmer in person. You wondered if you could do that thing Ume was pestering you about earlier. Leaning towards him, a million thoughts whizzed in your head, but you paid them no attention, because as soon as your eyes fluttered close—

HONK! HONK!

“Y/N-chaaaan!”

Lips falling flat, your features darkened. “No way... No way. No way. What the hell is he doing here?”

“Y/N-chan! It’s meee! I’ve come to pick you up~” the man waving by the taxi persistently yelled from you at the gates of the school, attracting the whispers and giggles of passing students.

Concern scrawled all over his face, your boyfriend turned to you, “Y/N-chan... W-who is that?”

“It’s that crazy person again...”

“Crazy person?!”

Grabbing his hand, you tried to ignore the shameless calls from the grown taxi driver who was simply too relentless. “Never mind that. Aki-chan, you can run, right? Let’s run right now. Don’t turn back, okay?”

And without warning, you dragged your boyfriend around a sharp corner, your legs pedaling as much as your glutes could handle. Akinori wished you’d stop and explain everything to him, but if you seemed to be so desperate as to avoid this certain taxi driver, then you probably had a good reason for it.

As much as he’d hoped he didn’t, curiosity overtook the boy and he did the one simple thing, you’d pleaded him not to do. Akinori turned back, and was met with a pair of sinister eyes that swam with murderous intent.

“Y/N-chan, he’s chasing us! Why is he chasing us?! And why is he so fast?!” he cried, the impending fear of the incoming taxi driver feeding adrenaline into his legs.

“This guy was a yankii* in high school. An A-grade delinquent. If he’s fast, then we just have to run faster!”

Did things always have to go so unexpectedly with you? Why couldn’t the two of you just sit down and make plans for the day, like a normal couple? Akinori figured you were lacking of “normal”, but to be chased by a former delinquent through a sidewalk was straight up terrifying—he didn’t even get to decide on what sort of will he was going to write!

“Y/N-chaaan! It’s me, Wataru-nii-chan!” your pursuer wailed from behind you. “Don’t you recognize me?! Is it the mullet?”

Wataru-nii-chan?! Konoha repeated in his mind.

Growling, you roared back at the man. “Go home, Aniki*! I can go back on my own, so stop chasing us before someone calls the police!”

Oh god, Akinori definitely didn’t expect his first encounter with one of your three older brothers to be like this. So much for a good first impression... But it was moderately your fault that you tended to avoid the subject whenever it was brought up. The only thing he’d ever recalled from your descriptions of them was that “they’re all annoying” and that they had all moved out from Tokyo to live elsewhere.

“Not until you let me drive you home!” your brother stubbornly shot back.

You were getting tired now. Running around in circles through the school district. If this race was a way to prove that you had graduated from the mere role of the “baby sister”, then so be it.

Though if it had been any other brother of yours chasing you down the streets, you would’ve been luckier. But this was Wataru for god’s sake. The second child. The idiot whose impulse transcended logic in every way possible—and the worst person to challenge to a foot race.

“Fine!” you groaned, nearly stumbling over your feet as your boyfriend pulled you from your fatigue. Hands slipping on the curve of your knees, you glared at your brother from the low angle. “I’ll go home with you this once. Then you’ll stop coming to my school.”

Ruffling your hair, he grinned, “I knew you’ll come through for your big bro.”

“...Whatever, let’s just go,” you muttered, shying away from the older man’s touch. Looking back at your visibly concerned yet confused boyfriend, you gave him a shrug and weakly waved goodbye as you trailed behind Wataru to his taxi.

Damn, that was way too scary, Akinori breathed. His stomach rumbling, he wondered if he still should stop by that cafe you’d talked about earlier. Probably not.

Resting your chin on the sill of the taxi window, you sighed loudly, enough to catch the attention of your brother on the rearview mirror. Wataru smiled brightly, driving you away from the landscape of Fukurodani Academy.

“Was that your boyfriend with you? That ‘Aki-chan’ Mom and Dad keeps talking about?”

“Bingo,” you retorted plainly, hoping that he’d stop trying to make small talk.

“By the way, I heard there’s a new cafe that just opened up in Shinjuku,” Wataru said, the mention somewhat a déjà vu. “You want to stop by and grab some parfaits?”

Frowning at your own reflection on the glass, you grumbled, “It’s fine. I’m not hungry.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

What the hell is this, you cursed.

Like they just coincidentally planned to ruin your day, all three of your older brothers—who had mentioned to you that they were going to spend their break at their workplaces—were sitting jovially at your family dining table, as if none of this was a shock.

“Isn’t it a lovely surprise, Y/N?” your mother beamed, scooping a larger spoonful of rice onto your oldest brother’s bowl. “They didn’t even tell us they were coming to visit!”

Of course not, you scowled. If there was one thing you and your brothers had in common was that it was the annoying habit of doing things unexpectedly and expecting the second party to live with it. You wondered if this was what Akinori had felt the day you approached him.

“Y/N-chan’s gotten so big. I wonder if she can still fit on my lap like she used to,” Kensuke, the oldest, cooed, gazing at you with glassy eyes. “You want to sit on Ken-nii-chan’s lap, Y/N-chan? I’ll feed you too if you’d like~”

“No thank you,” you growled through gritted teeth and broccoli.

The third brother Masao chuckled while ruffling your hair endearingly, “Now, now, Y/N-chan. Of course Kensuke’s going to point out that you’ve grown bigger, he’s a pediatrician after all. If you don’t want to be fed by him, how about Masa-nii-chan, eh?”

Pushing your quarter-empty meal to the center of the table, you turned your face away from the college senior’s nostalgic “beef stew airplane”. “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

“You usually eat things up like it’s nothing. Are you ill? A rebellious phase?” Kensuke muttered, leaning back on his chair to closely observe your darkening mood. “No, it’s something more... Could it be—is it your boyfriend?”

“Or that band of yours, maybe? I can’t believe you’re still in it, you know you can’t get very far with music, right?” Masao sneered, gulping down his glass of water. “All of your friends remind me a lot of Wataru when he was still a high school hooligan.”

Showing no signs of appreciation for the comment, your second brother winked at you from across the table. “Speaking of your boyfriend, I met him today when I picked you up, didn’t I?”

The mention of your ‘infamous’ boyfriend turned the heads of the entire dinner table—you weren’t so sure why your parents looked so surprised as well, you supposed it was just genetics.

“Really? What was he like? I can definitely tell he’s one of those skinny ones.”

“You bet. I was more curious about his hair though...”

“Is it dyed or is it a natural shade?”

“It was too dark to tell, maybe when I encounter him again, I’ll take a small snip of his hair to show everyone~”

Kensuke, who in your memory didn’t fare well with news of any boy approaching a 1-metre radius of you, darkly smiled behind the shade of his spectacles. He hadn’t said anything in response to Wataru’s report, and that itself terrified you to bits.

“Ooh, you’re still with him, Y/N-chan?” at his sappy call of your name, your stomach tightened. The table fell silent at the mercy of the oldest child. “That’s new. You usually get bored of something or someone after a few months or so... Are you sure it’s not much of a burden for you? You’re a third-year too, after all... You shouldn’t take relationships for granted~”

If Wataru was a knuckleheaded ogre and Masao was a devious fox, then Kensuke was definitely the demon to rule them all. It was in their nature, whether they realized it or not; they always made you seem pathetic so that they could take the chance to dote and care for you like they wished for.

“Dinner was delicious,” you blurted out, standing up from your chair abruptly that the tableware shook and clattered. “I’m going to my room.”

Watching you slam the bedroom door, Kensuke shouted after you, “Ehh... You’re not going to tell us about you and your boyfriend? We’re curious!”

You let your brothers’ voices fade out into white noise as you collapsed face-down onto your bed. You hoped that this visit wasn’t going to last long, otherwise, you’d be pulling out every hair from your head until you went bald.

Unfolding the scrap of notes your three patrons had previously collected for you, a weak smile cracked through your face. Don’t mind them, Y/N-chan, you thought as you got up to place your beloved guitar on your lap. Let’s get to work.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Akinori swore your face was so sour, he tasted lemons in his mouth.

You looked like you didn’t sleep for days. You, who had always brimmed with energy, were quietly cursing your brothers as you ate lunch. Added to your rather beautiful profile, you looked like an phantom waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting victim.

“So, how was your consultation with Yamanouchi-sensei about your future plans?” he cleared his throat, hoping that he could slowly pick away the frosty wall between you.

You only frowned deeper—so deep that your eyebrows were almost parallel. “Future plans... Do I have to decide everything now? My life is only this wonderful because I don’t plan anything. I could be busking in the streets with Reo, Iori-kun and MugiMugi ten years from now and I’d be perfectly fine.”

Akinori laughed. That ‘plan’ definitely smelled very strongly of you.

“What about you?” you nudged his elbow with the side of your chopsticks. “What do you want to be doing in the future, Aki-chan?”

“Hmm... I’ll definitely go to college—otherwise my mom’s brains will leak out of her ears if I don’t. After that, I’m considering setting up a business on my own, maybe in Meguro where it’s a bit cheaper than Ginza or Roppongi. It’d be nice to be your own boss, don’t you think?”

You smiled weakly and nodded. How annoying. Just as you were liberated from your isolation just a year ago, you felt like you were already seeping back into loneliness once more. Everyone had a plan after high school.

Akinori was going to be an ambitious conglomerate with the number one business in Meguro. Gorilla-faced gentle Reo was finally going to set up that ramen shop he’d been dreaming of. Iori, a rebel to mankind and jaywalking laws, was going to “hell with everything” and enter a prestigious art school. And young Tsumugi... well, whatever a sales operator was, you wished him all the best as a good senpai would do.

And thus, you were stuck again. As the prodigy L/N Y/N who could do everything... but could never decide on anything.

“It’s my brothers’ fault I was so sleepy when I filled in that form. They were disturbing my peace of mind and so I got scolded by Yamanouchi-sensei for it,” you reasoned.

“Is that why you look so tired?”

“No, that’s not it,” you sighed, replacing the lid on your emptied bento. “I spent all night finishing up most of the cheering song’s melody.”

Akinori nearly choked on his strawberry milk. “That much already?! Y/N-chan, the tournament isn’t until a week away! Geez, think about yourself more, won’t you? What would you do if you fell sick and collapsed?”

Getting up to pat away the dust resting on your skirt, you gave your boyfriend a cheeky smile. “Then you’ll just have to take care of me until I get better.”

“Ah... You’ll only ask me to do weird stuff. Why can’t your brother do it? Isn’t he a doctor?”

You curtly gave him an unappreciative pout, masking your obvious mirth. “C’mon~ I’m your girlfriend. You’re going to need a punishment for saying that, Aki-chan. Come now, don’t cover up your sides, I’m going to have to tickle you good—!”

Though you were laughing, you were a mess. More than usual, Akinori thought. It was disturbing enough that his first impression of your older siblings was nightmarish at best, but he wondered if your coping methods could’ve been more... amiable. What would he do if you really fell sick and collapsed? Would your brothers even let him visit especially with their overbearing sense of vigilance?

From your little grumbling, it really did seem like they didn’t like him. Or, really, the concept of him. As much as Akinori appreciated your solace, it would be troublesome if they’d thought he was trying to influence you to despising your family. Some sort of soap opera this is.

At least you were smiling now. He thought. And that was all that mattered in that moment, because he knew things were about to go awry one way or another.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Y/N-san... I think my ears just ascended to second heaven.”

In the expanse of the Marching Band Club room, Suzuki Ume had her hands clasped together, a content expression resting idly on her face. And it really did look like she’d died happy.

“Right~?” you grinned, setting down Lennon-chan next to the blackboard. “The melody really gets you pumped up, doesn’t it? Especially when it’ll be played by all the trumpets and percussions... I think even I’ll start feeling the adrenaline.”

Brandishing the handwritten sheet music in her hands, Ume smiled at you endearingly. “This song is perfect, Y/N-san. And I’m sure your lyrics will only make it better. If I may propose...”

Repeating the word she’d trailed off, you felt an even bigger smile cracking through the slits of your pearly teeth.

“It would be great if you were there to lead the song for us. That is, only if you agree! I’ve already discussed it with the PTA and the principal and they’re all on board with the idea.”

The room grew still, and the captain spoke again.

“I’m sure Konoha-kun will be excited if you were there cheering for him on... maybe you’ll finally get one of those romantic after-game kisses with him~”

Ume never recalled a moment where you ever blushed. But to see Fukurodani’s infamous “alien” genius so flustered—red from head to toe—was a victory no one could ever seldom. Who could blame you? When thoughts of your untouched lips being swept away by your guileful boyfriend in an enclosed space, so close yet so far from prying eyes were buzzing in your head... Geez, now you really wanted a kiss.

“I’ll lead the song for you—b-but not because I want my boyfriend to do... that!” you quickly reasoned, the red on your face turning darker. “Aki-chan gets all sweaty after a game and being kissed in that condition is gross! Public displays of affection are also pervy, aren’t they? R-right?”

Hoho, Ume giggled. So the Iron Maiden is this type of tsundere~

“Umecchi. That amused look on your face, please erase it.”

It took Suzuki Ume her entire fist in her mouth to pacify her approaching laughter. But eventually, she’d jovially apologized for teasing you, alleviating the pout resting on your face. Reviewing her ideas for the lyrics once more, you drew the conclusion that a) you were still going to have to examine the Volleyball Club first-hand for inspiration and b) writing lyrics for a cheering song was going to be harder than you’d expected. You, who had been used to your own hostile verses in PARANOIA’s songs, were going to have to be forced to avoid the usual... “dirty scums” business.

You were beginning to regret taking the offer, but quickly waved away the thought, thinking that you were starting to sound like your boyfriend. Exiting the Marching Band club room, you pondered on a proper time to visit the Volleyball Club for research. They had today off. Tomorrow, maybe? No, Akinori would complain that you were working too hard—

“Ow!” you yelped, rubbing your forehead from the sudden impact from the wall—Wait, you squinted. There was never a wall here.

And when a pair of arms wrapped around you as a constrictor so eager to devour, all answers were revealed. “Y/N-chaaan! It’s so nice to see you! Aaah, Masa-nii-chan was starting to wonder where you were, you know? Kyuu~”

Scuffling against the third brother’s vice-like embrace, you hissed. “Aniki, let go! You’ll damage my guitar! What are you doing here?! Who in hell would let you in?”

Gently setting you down, Masao watched you with a reprimanding look on his face, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“How cruel of you to say, Y/N-chan. I’m only here to check on my alma mater...” he sulked, focus zeroing in on the piece of paper in your hand. “What’s that? Can I see?”

Before you could express your dissent, Masao had already lunged behind you, snatching the paper into his hands. Reaching for the large wall with your dwarfen arms, you let out a shrill wheeze as his eyes started to skim over the paper and his expression dropped to a million feet.

“Give it back, Aniki!”

“You’re still doing this music thing? Geez, did you even listen to what I said during that one dinner?” he scoffed, turning his back to you to further deride your struggle. “‘You won’t get very far with music’. I bet these scrubs aren’t even paying you.”

Taking up all the strength in your legs, you craned against Masao as much as possible and retrieved the sheet with a disapproving crackle. “I’m not capitalistic like you. And yes, I am still doing this ‘music thing’, but no matter how far I’ll go...”

You paused, drinking in the grave look on your brother’s face.

“I’ll always have people to support me, Aniki.”

At the spur of the moment, like your ancestors were trying to curse you for speaking of the devil, a familiar call of your name had the both of you turning your heads. A mop of blonde and a pair of simple dark eyes that did not match the scene that was playing out before him.

What was Akinori doing here? Why would he call for you seeing that this obnoxious adult was here?! Run away, you begged with your gaze, but the fear that rooted your boyfriend was unrelentingly profuse. No! Don’t succumb!

“Ah! Y/N-chan’s brother!” he bowed, an angle so sharp he almost snapped a muscle. “It’s nice to finally meet you... S-sir.”

“Sir?” Masao drawled, the question pumping acid into the atmosphere. “I’m not even that old yet.”

Despite being younger than the first brother he’d encountered, there was no doubt that this one was more terrifying than the last. At least to your boyfriend he was. Masao, more attractive-looking than Wataru, had a carbon copy of your steely gaze. “He’s a fox! A wily fox who’ll get you to assume things without meaning to!” you’d told him a few days prior, annoyance burning in your tone.

As Masao opened his mouth to speak again, Akinori could only gulp. “You’re much taller than I expected. You’re a regular in the volleyball club, right, Aki-chan?”

“R-right,” he responded. God, now he knew why his term of endearment only sounded right when it came from you.

Circling your boyfriend like a famished vulture, Masao studied him from the tips of his hair to the toes of his shoes.  “So stiff~ I would’ve mistaken you for my little sister’s guitar if you weren’t so...” he smiled warmly at the boy, then hissed.

“... Alive.”

Akinori suddenly realized what you meant by him being such a “fox demon”—he supposed you were just trying to remind him of a folk tale that time, you said yourself that whatever you said shouldn’t be taken too much to the heart. Gulping at the imposing brute of the man, your boyfriend made a mental note to listen closely to your fanciful ramblings the next time he wanted to stay “alive”. For good riddance.

Laughing raucously at his expression, Masao slapped his shoulders, worthy of the ossan* at the nearby ramen shop. “I was just messing with you! Geez, you don’t have to take me so seriously~ You’re just like Y/N-chan but less cuter! Damn, exactly the type of guy Kensuke-nii would love and hate at the same time! Hey, tell me, have you two kissed yet? I can tell that my little Y/N-chan would enjoy that kind of stuff. She is the hopeless romantic after all~”

“K-kiss?!”

At the mention of the accursed ‘activity’, you decided that it was time to finally interfere. Fitting yourself in between your paralysed boyfriend and your brother, you spread out your arms in a sign of mock annoyance. Eyes blazing as bright as your face, you begged Masao one last time.

“That’s enough getting to know each other, right, Aniki?” you said, urging him away from the stricken third year. “If you’re really here to look around the school, then you should hurry and go already. I’ll take you to the staircase, come on.”

Casually lounging an arm over your shoulders, your brother bent down towards your ear, “He’s not so bad. I like him.”

You rolled your eyes. “If you’re saying that just to win me over—”

“Geez, would you stop getting all wary with me? I’m not.” Masao muttered. The mischievous glint in his eyes disappeared just as gravity replaced it. “Your Aki-chan seems like a good kid. Not my type, just so you know. But if you care about him that much as to protect the guy from both me and Wataru, then he’s really something, huh? I’m still not in favor of your entire music future ordeal, but if that Konoha guy is your ‘support’, then I’ll rest easy knowing he’s got your back.”

There was another one of those uncomfortable pauses you hated again. Your brothers never lied; it was one of those characteristics that made your family prone to bluntness over everything else. Nevertheless, there was a sense of lightness in your chest after hearing your brother’s approval. You supposed that even if Masao was the slyest sibling known to man, he was indefinitely more tolerable than... Creepy Siscon Kensuke or Stubborn Belittling Wataru.

“Are you going to tell Kensuke and Wataru about this?”

Eyeing your concern, Masao tilted his head. “I won’t. Promise.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, nodding at your brother from atop the staircase, “... Masa-nii-chan.”

The face Masao was enough for you to scrunch up in disgust and regret whatever you just said. “H-Haa... Y-you finally called me Masa-nii-chan again... I’m so happy. So, so happy. W-will you give me a hug, Y/N-chan?”

“No way. Calling you that again was embarrassing enough, Aniki.”

“Not Aniki! Call me Masa-nii-chan! Once more!”

Shaking your head petulantly, you laughed at your brother’s woes leaving him to continue with a tour of his alma mater (unaccompanied by the hug he so desired). You returned to your lingering boyfriend with ease in your heart and found him just as stricken as you had left him.

“He’s gone now, you don’t have to look so tense,” you poked at his rigid expression.

“Your other brother he mentioned...” Akinori bit his lip. “Would he really hate me?”

You let out a breath.

“I can’t say he won’t, but Masao also said he’d love you, right? Don’t worry about it,” you grinned, looping your arm around his to drag him through the third year hallways. “When he’s being serious, you can trust that guy with his words.”

“Even the ones about how you’d enjoy being kissed?”

The spring freezing in your step, you stared at your boyfriend incredulously. Dawning on Akinori’s face was a look of absolute triumph and illuminated by the shadows of the midday sun, it was like you were at an impasse. It was near unheard of, that this was the same boy who’d you manhandled last year to get his feelings straight! And now, he was using that subliminal charm of his—the one you’d developed—in addition to that godforsaken attractive smirk to ensnare you.

What’s up with that, you thought. A mix of sheer arousal, fear and pride pooling in your hammering heart. I created a monster.

“... Except for those words,” you gritted, trying to keep your footing steady with the way Akinori was leaning closer to your body.

He chuckled lowly. “Eeh, we haven’t even kissed yet. Do you actually have experience in this sort of thing?”

You turned to the large windows lining the walls, hoping that you’d play off your deepening blush. “Of course not. And don’t say it like you have any either! If I’d dated someone who’s already had their first kiss... that would be weird on my side.”

Ruffling your hair while laughing heartily, Akinori let his eyes trail towards the outline of your face. You were beautiful, that was obvious. But in a private moment just like this, just you and him, you always seemed like you were glowing. Your curious eyes—overflowing with mischief and mysteries that he swore to uncover with time. Your cheeks, warm against his fingers and always dusted with a faint red whenever he was around. And your lips. Untouched, unkissed. A plump pair he’d only dreamed of wrapping his own around.

Tracing the pads of his fingers on the contours of your lips, charting etches of himself upon it, Akinori wondered what it would feel like. To kiss you. Would you truly enjoy it, like your brother had said?

“Aki-chan...?” your voice. So delicate and seductive; his name came out of your mouth like amber honey dripping on his hand. It was funny, to be so in love with you. Even after moments where he’d regretted he hadn’t.

It didn’t occur to him how his face was already gravitating towards you. Maybe you weren’t just an alien, maybe L/N Y/N was an entire extraterrestrial planet with a pulling force of its own.

And Konoha Akinori would be the first man to set foot on it.

“W-Whoa! Sorry ‘bout that! Am I interrupting something private, Taichou*?”

Setting foot, Akinori thought of registering himself into a mental ward for thinking of such an uncharacteristic analogy. Watching you wave giddily at the prowler who just happened to be your bandmate Iori, he sighed. I just got hit by an entire meteoroid.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

You considered buying yourself a good-luck charm from the nearby shrine. The feeling of being overwhelmed... was something you could never get used to. It was rare for you to feel so swamped, taking into account how you prided yourself over being able to get things done at lightning speed. But the song, college entrance exams, your brothers, your band and... that interrupted chance of a kiss. Everything simply took its chance to slip itself into your head all at once.

And it didn’t help at all that Kensuke had found out about your lazily answered Future Plans form that you had stupidly left lying around on your bedroom desk... under that? The lyrics to the cheering song.

“If you’re going to take your future so lightly, then you’re better off not going to that volleyball match,” he’d said to you coolly, a reflection of your seething face bouncing off his glasses. “Is this why you’ve been up all night on your guitar?”

“It was my choice,” you’d told him repeatedly.

“What uncharacteristic choices!” Kensuke had gasped mockingly, crossing his arms. “I’m simply worried about my cute little sister. What if those choices lead you to your doom? Your future, your band... that boyfriend of yours.”

He had paused to ruffle your hair, in which you’d barely managed to duck away from.

“Why don’t you just give all that up and let your big brothers take care of you, okay, Y/N-chan?”

Of course, you had only scoffed in reply and pretended like you didn’t hear him, but you weren’t going to show Kensuke that his words were actually bothering you, were you?

At the current hour, your brothers didn’t matter. As long as you finished the lyrics, everything would be fine. It’ll be fine, you said to yourself. Your long week of juggling through school, visiting the gym for lyrical inspiration, appointments with teachers, your club, clients and boyfriend, all while avoiding your brothers’ nosy interventions had begun. And there was no more back-pedaling on anything.

On the bright side, the marching band was progressing amicably with practicing the melody with you. You decided that Ume, still inquisitive about the passage of your relationship, wasn’t their captain for nothing. Hence, it would only be fair that you also gave your all during your practices—whether or not you finally felt weary in any parts of your body didn’t matter.

And ultimately, the utmost crescendo of the entire week had finally dawned you. You finished. You finished the lyrics! The song! Just about 3 days before the tournament and you had excitedly jotted down the final lines of the cheer. It was flawless in your mind and you comically considered switching over PARANOIA’s theme into something more flamboyant.

Just as a storm had come, the gods had blessed you with a stroke of good fortune. Your week had finally turned around for the better. The rehearsals, the feeling of a pick between your fingers, the swelling intimacy between you and Akinori. Your future even seemed clearer in your head. The tournament was only two days away and you felt like steel. Nothing could stop you. Nothing—

“39 degrees.”

“H-huh...?”

“You’re sick, Y/N-chan,” Kensuke sighed taking a seat on the stool next to your bed, the thermometer between his fingers flashing the two digits you never once fathomed to unite. “Mom and Dad have called your school and told them you won’t be attending class today.”

Nothing, but a 39-degree fever that made your legs buckle every step you took.

“I can’t be sick!” you suddenly cried out, only to be thrown aback by your own string of coughs. You rasped again, your legs weakly reaching out to the floor, looking for your slippers. “T-The tournament is tomorrow and I have to be there to lead the supporters—!”

As your toes kissed the surface of the hardwood, your knees caved away, crumpling and collapsing you forwards into the anticipating embrace of your three brothers. Cringing, you couldn’t help but to melt away into their warmth. You were cold. So, so cold. And all you wanted to do was wither away.

“Oi, oi! Think about your health first,” Wataru scolded, easing you back down against your plush pillows. “39 degrees won’t just go away like that, y’know? Worst-case scenario is that you won’t feel better until Sunday.”

Bundling your blankets over your shivering form, Masao nodded. “Wataru’s right. We’re sorry, Y/N-chan, but I don’t think you can go to the tourney tomorrow with your current condition.”

With a gentle stroke of his fingers on your sweat-slicked hair, Kensuke was already putting you into a trance that made your eyelids go heavy. “It’s cold, isn’t it? You poor, poor thing... It’ll be alright, Y/N-chan. Doctor Ken-nii-chan is going to take proper care of you~”

And those were the least reassuring words you’d ever heard in your life before you yielded to slumber.

“Y-Y/N-chan, are you alright?!” your boyfriend’s voice blared through your phone. It was already evening, and you didn’t catch how many hours you’d been out like a light until you stirred awake to the ringing of your cell phone. “I didn’t see you all day so I asked Tsuyoshi-san and he said you were down with a fever! Should I visit and bring you some food? W-what do you want? Some miso soup or chicken stock?”

“No, it’s fine,” you wheezed out softly. “You don’t have to come.”

“W-why not?” Akinori murmured, the torment in his voice seeping through your speakers. “You said yourself that if you ever collapsed and fell sick, I’ll be there to take care of you, right? I want to take care of you now, even if you make me do weird things. So, please—”

“Akinori.” You sternly hissed. What were you going to tell him? That he couldn’t come because your iron-willed brother slash doctor was guarding your door like a dog? You didn’t even want to know what Kensuke would do to your boyfriend if he came over. “Don’t. Come. I don’t want you to catch my fever. The match is tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“If you love me, don’t visit. Thanks for the concern,” you said flatly and quickly hung up before he could say anything else to pull at your heartstrings. God, you really felt like a loser. Maybe your brothers weren’t so wrong about the ‘weak little sister’ business...

A knock on the door, and the devil had answered to your thoughts. “Hello~? I’m coming in, Y/N-chan. Are you awake? I’ve got your medicine.”

Heat flooding your brain, you were already frustrated enough about the entire ordeal, and your brother’s face was the last thing you wanted to see right now. Turning around to face the wall, you buried yourself into your blankets as the sound of an opening door and a tray being set down filled the room.

“I know you’re awake,” though you couldn’t see him, you were sure Kensuke was grinning playfully behind you. “Turn around so Ken-nii-chan can give you your medicine.”

“I can do it myself, Aniki,” you grumbled from within your cocoon of warmth.

“Not with those shaky hands you’re not,” he said as-a-matter-of-factly. Growling lowly, you shifted beneath the sheets and locked gazes with your smiling brother. Eyeing his every movement as he poured the dark syrup onto a spoon (because who knows what kind of shady things he might put into it!), you rustled.

“Why are you doing this?”

Replacing the cap onto the bottle, the eldest brother’s face broke into a grin. “Because I’m both your brother and a pediatrician. So isn’t it my responsibility to do this sort of stuff? Ah, open wide~”

You quickly enveloped your mouth around the spoon, downing its contents. Your face scrunched repulsively at the artificial tang. Sour. “I suppose it’s your responsibility to make my life a living hell too?”

“That’s a good girl, Y/N-chan. Sorry it’s lemon,” he said, setting down the spoon on your bedside table before turning to you again. “I just want what’s best for you. My little Y/N-chan is different from those other good-for-nothing kids, right? It’s a big world out there and we don’t want you to suffer.”

“Would you stop treating me like a child?” you scowled, hot air spewing out from your nose. “What’s up with you three and doing that? I can function perfectly fine on my own. I’m a third year in high school. It’s so annoying that I could almost hate you. And this is all because you never want to listen to me!”

As the both of you immersed in the deadly silence, you took the time to ogle at your brother’s contorted expression.

Kensuke leaned back on his chair, eyes widened with surprise. “’L-listen’... Y/N-chan, of course we want to listen to you. I-is that not what we’ve been doing the whole time?”

“Listening isn’t the same thing as assuming what I want, Aniki. All you guys do is pile up expectations about the fantasy Y/N living inside your head, and it’s been on my mind the entire week,” you murmured, face growing redder. Though that was just the fever. You were sure of it. “I can’t be the little Y/N-chan I used to be. She’s gone. I’m me now, and the choices I make are the results of my own changes. The choices about what I do, love—”

You took one good, satisfying look at Kensuke’s face, before continuing your sermon. “—and my future. No matter how stupid it looks to you.”

“Oh, Y/N-chan...” he sobbed, striking you dumb top to bottom. Kensuke was crying. Your brother was crying, but what for? Did he catch your fever? God, being sick really did a number on people.

“We didn’t—I didn’t mean to make you feel that way! I was just scared. It was so scary to see you grow up so fast into an adult... then what next? You’ll forget us. You even said you hated me! O-oh God, I’m turning into an overbearing person... I want to commit seppuku*, I’m so sorry...”

Seppuku—Wait, this was your brother you’re talking about here. And with his degree of regret and brashness... he just might do it. How dramatic, you thought, a chuckle threatening to escape your throat.

“Geez, don’t commit seppuku, Aniki,” you sat up on your bed, handing him the pack of tissues next to your pillow. “I said I could almost hate you. But I can’t possibly do that—you’re my brother, right? Even though you three drive me crazy, to fully despise the people who care for you... That’s unfair, isn’t it? Come on, Doctor, don’t cry in front of your patients~”

Blowing his nose loudly into a tissue, he sniffed. “You must really like this guy, huh?”

You made a noise between confusion and shock.

“The old Y/N-chan wouldn’t go so far for anything if it didn’t really interest you... I was worried that he was taking advantage of you or something, to the point where you worked yourself sick. But I couldn’t help but to overhear your phone call from outside and I was relieved that it wasn’t the case.”

You leaned your head on your knees and sighed. “Of course not. Aki-chan is sweet and caring and he knows exactly how to come up with the perfect responses to my weird antics. He used to take advantage of me, and I used to take advantage of him. But that was a long time ago. He made me realize that I didn’t have to understand everything before I felt happy about anything.”

“Does he make you happy?”

“Very. Aki-chan, my band, making this song for the tournament... it all makes me happy, and nothing could be better.”

The air was thick, and Kensuke took it as his cue to leave. Giving you one last smile at the doorframe after he’d flicked the lights off, you felt relief dulling your muscles.

“If you get better by tomorrow, I-I’ll try to figure out a way to get you to that gymnasium,” he said. A promise you knew he was bound to keep. “Your boyfriend is a good person, and I’d hate for him to go through such a grueling match without your support.”

“Ken-nii-chan?” God, it was embarrassing for you to say it, but you were thankful that you were clouded with darkness. “Thanks for listening.”

“G-get some rest, Y/N-chan. Good night.” A shut of a door and muffled crying through the walls.

Good night. You said to yourself and the comforts of your empty room.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Has anyone seen Y/N-san?” Suzuke Ume, frantic captain of the Marching Band, scurried through the throngs of students, parents and teachers.

“I don’t think she got on one of the PTA buses either,” Yukie craned her neck upwards to get a better view of the audience. “Did she forget about it?”

“No way! This is Y/N-san we’re talking about. The day she forgets is the day the world collapses in on itself,” Ume gritted. “Gosh, I have to get the marching band ready and everything...”

Down below, on the polished hardwood court, the boys of the Fukurodani Volleyball Club were raving on their own as usual.

“Hey, what’s Suzuki-chan freaking out about? You think everything’s okay?” Komi whispered to the unstirring wing spiker. “Yo, Konoha, you good, man?”

Akinori said nothing. The world seemed so quiet, not even Bokuto’s early-morning racket could shake him out of it. The gymnasium held out like an empty shell to him. Was the world always so silent whenever you weren’t around? What a desolate world he lived in before you.

Lumping a sinewy arm over his shoulder, Bokuto pointed out. “Where’s Y/N-chan? She’s not coming? I heard she was going to lead the crowd.”

“She’s sick,” he finally mouthed, shrugging Bokuto off his back. “She didn’t come to school either yesterday. I’m just worried about her, ‘s all.”

At his words, Komi frantically leapt towards him. “Sick?! The Great Deity is sick? Did you visit her yesterday? How is she?”

“Y/N-chan... didn’t let me visit,” Akinori sighed. “I don’t know if I ticked her off or if she’s finally gotten bored of me... but she told me not to come even if I really really wanted to.”

As the sentence left his mouth, a shrill whistle resounded in the gymnasium, bouncing off the walls in a warning manner. That was that. The tournament you so hoped to attend the entire week, gone in a matter of seconds.

“Waaaait! Sorry I’m late!”

Like seagulls flocking to breadcrumbs, the entirety of the gym turned its head to the northwest entrance. Where a girl donned in a lopsided Fukurodani uniform and a guitar case strapped to her back looked like she just ran a marathon to get here.

Akinori’s face flushed away of its color, but he couldn’t help but to smile. Elegantly poised Ume nearly dropped her baton, and the entire crowd had their jaws scattered all over the floor.

“Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

Coach Yamiji on the sidelines snickered behind his wrinkled hands. This is going to be one interesting cheer.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

There was a small corner in the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, hidden to the eyes, where janitors and staff alike sparsely came by. A little close to the bathrooms, but not too bad considering there was a fragrant lavender air freshener nocked there. And at this hour, it was the perfect time for—I don’t know—perhaps a curious couple to bask themselves in an after-game moment?

Cradling your face in his hands, Akinori scrutinized the little features on your skin, his breath heavy with concern. “Are you still sick? You’re a bit warm.”

Pushing his hands away, you tapped his chest lightly. “How romantic, Aki-chan. You drag your girlfriend away to a private space only to interrogate her. I’m fine, you know~”

“Your cheeks are completely red, you can’t fool me.” He returned his hands on your cheeks, squishing them together. You looked like strawberry mochi. Cute.

“T-That’s for an entirely different reason!” you cried out, averting your gaze. Your fingers curled around your quaint chrysanthemum necklace out of instinct. “I’m really fine. My brother, the doctor, drove me here with Wataru’s taxi. And we both know he wouldn’t be the type of person to let me out of the house if I wasn’t well. And guess what? I think my brothers have finally come to accept you~!”

Sighing, he rested his forehead on your shoulder, hiding his face in your neck. “You’re troublesome, L/N Y/N. You’re lucky the cheering song was so good that we won those first few matches by a landslide. Otherwise, I would be fully scolding you right now.”

“Hehehe~ Congrats for the win.” Tilting your head against his, you let out a soft hum. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Aki-chan. What should I do for you to forgive me?”

Raising his neck to level to yours, Akinori propped his temple up against yours and spoke to you in a husky tone that made you feel feverish again.

“No one’s going to interrupt us, right?”

“Eh? I don’t think so, but what’re you doing so close—”

“Good.”

And with a soft clink of your matching necklaces bumping against each other in the vacant halls, Akinori had stolen your breath away like a phantom thief to a tower’s princess.

Warm, was the first thing he thought of at first contact. Maybe it was the residue of your night-long fight against a high fever. He might fall sick soon, but that wasn’t something to think about during a first kiss. The space between you was nearly spectral and Akinori’s beating heart was faint against your chest. It was fast, expectedly so. As his hands drifted to shyly wrap itself around the tendrils of your stray hairs, you sneakily nibbled his lower lip, erupting the bubbles of laughter from his throat.

“You smell like sweat,” you poked at his jersey, your cheeks burning up. “Don’t just do that without giving me a warning first.”

Tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, Akinori eyed your slightly parted lips, a dash of his saliva molten upon it, “It’s payback for all the nuisances you’ve caused. So take responsibility, Y/N-chan.”

‘Responsibility’. The word seemed so foreign to you, but perhaps being liable wasn’t going to be such a bad thing—even if you were just freely riding the wave. Letting out a raucous laugh, you threw yourself against Akinori, taking as much responsibility as needed. Twice, thrice, and so on.

Bit by bit, the tailwinds of fate pointed north, and the right path for you never seemed clearer.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

yankii - delinquent

aniki - ‘older brother’, but really slang-y (usually seen in pop culture yakuza scenes)

ossan - middle-aged man (an ‘uncle’ of sorts)

taichou - commander/leader

seppuku - japanese ritual of slitting the belly

[gamequeenanya]

Listen to Logic - Logan and Remus (friendship)

Rated: PG

Warning: Tickling, food wasting, disturbing allusions.

Summary: When Logan feels neglected and unheard, will he find an ally in the unlikeliest of places? Does Remus still hold a grudge against Logan, or are they friends now? Will Thomas listen to Logan, or will the Orange Side win...? (Written like an episode.)

...

Thomas and Joan were wondering how to start the video. Cue Thomas thinking of various dad jokes and giggling to himself. Joan couldn't help laugh along.

"Oh, Thomas," they said in a villain-like voice. "You have such a cute laugh... It would be a shame if someone..."

Digging into their friend's sides, Joan let out an evil laugh. Thomas couldn't help double over and laugh hysterically. "...Exploited that!"

Escaping from their hold, Thomas, still giggling, told them to cut it out. With a sinister, yet jokey grin, Joan then exited the room. Composing himself, Thomas then looked at the audience.

"Anyways: 'What is up everybody!' Today we're going to be discussing how I'm going to fix the drainpipes of my kitchen sink. With me today are my sides, Roman, who represents my creativity, Patton, who represents my morality, and Virgil, who represents my Anxiety..."

As he motioned to the sides with his hand, they each appeared in their place. All except Virgil.

"Huh. I guess he must be busy." Thomas then turned to Roman and Patton. "So, guys, what do you think?"

“I think you should go for it, Thomas! Use that special wrench your mom got you for your birthday!” Roman said.

Patton wagged his finger. “Ah-ah-ah! What if you were to damage it? It was a special gift from your mom, so shouldn’t you cherish it?”

Roman fired back, “It’s a tool! They’re meant to be used! Your mom will understand!” 

There was a sigh heard from the hallway next to the staircase. Thomas’ logical side was there the whole time. As he listened to the others’ discussion, Logan was getting frustrated. Thomas hadn't called on him once or even looked in his direction. Logan had tried to get a word in edgewise, but the others ignored him.

Meanwhile, Remus popped up behind Roman again, startling him.

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you, Roman. I'm just here to remind you of the elephant in the room."

At this, Logan scoffed. "If there was an elephant in this room, Thomas would not only notice it, but..." He pulled out a vocab card and read it monotonously. "'Freak out.'"

"What do you mean?" Thomas asked Remus.

"Yeah," Patton said. "We're just having our usual discussion."

Remus grinned. Oh, this was rich! It seemed as though Mr. Orange was working double time. Distracting Thomas from his Logical side was no easy feat. Kudos to him! Giggling, he pointed to a certain place close to the stairs.

"I think you've forgotten someone!"

Virgil popped up just then. "Sorry I'm late." He was busy playing a video game on his phone. It was the Halloween version of Word Crush. "Important business."

Everyone smiled and cheered at seeing their gloomy friend again.

"Virgil!" Thomas said. "We missed you! The fans missed you! Say hi to everyone!"

Virgil turned to the audience and smirked, raising one hand up in a half-hearted wave. "S'up."

"He's so precious!" Patton squealed, clapping his hands. Remus rolled his eyes.

"Oh yes, it's so nice to see you, Virgil... But it wasn't you I was talking about."

Virgil looked up curiously. He didn't mind Remus' somewhat rude tone... After Virgil had left the dark sides, he even expected it. But he wondered what Remus meant.

"Allow me to give you a hint!" Remus said, snapping his fingers. Suddenly, Thomas' white walls were covered in red Crofter's jam. The sides screamed in horror. 

"You fiend!" Roman cried. "How dare you make Thomas imagine that!"

While Roman was crying over his favourite jam, a flicker of memory danced in Thomas' brain.

"You're right. There is someone I haven't been listening to!"

Everyone waited eagerly. Finally, Thomas confidently gave his answer.

"It's Joan! They had a lot of good ideas I didn't give a chance!"

Remus dragged his palm over his face. Unbelievable! If you want something done, you've got to do it yourself! Snapping his fingers, he turned into the aforementioned friend. Seeing Remus short and with black hair made everyone do a double-take.

"Listen closely, Thomas. It's Logan! You've been neglecting him!"

At this Thomas clutched his head as though it was enveloped in pain. He muttered, "Oh. My. Gosh... I am so sorry..."

"Are you alright, Thomas?" Logan asked.

"I... AH!" he cried out. 

"Look at me, Thomas!"

He couldn't. All he could do was shake his head and close his eyes.

Roman turned to Remus. "I have an idea. Patton and I will distract You-Know-Who... You help Logan get Thomas' attention!"

Remus nodded. Still in his Joan form, he materialized behind Logan.

Curiously, Logan partially turned around. He had to wonder why Remus was adamant about helping him. After all, Logan had taken his power away not too long ago. Shouldn't Remus be angry? Wouldn't he be glad Thomas wasn't giving logic the time of day? Logan’s thoughts were interrupted by ten fingers skittering on his sides. Screeching, he flinched, hands flying protectively to his waist. He wiggled around, struggling to escape Remus' hold. He was incredibly ticklish! How did Remus know?! Remus didn't stop there, he skittered all over the man's stomach and pinched his ribs too. Logan laughed loudly and hysterically.

Suddenly, Thomas' attention snapped to Logan. A smile broke out on his face as he watched the scene. For a man who rarely smiled, let alone laughed, Logan's laugh was quite endearing.

"REMUS!! AHAHAAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAHAHP!! HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! I-I CAN'T! HAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAA!"

He was trying to say he couldn't take it, but his laughter drowned him out. Even though the man was shorter than him, he’d caught him in a hold he couldn’t escape from. Remus wore a playful grin the entire time. Finally, he stopped, letting the man breathe. Logan turned to him, a large blush on his cheeks. Remus just waved his fingers at him.

"You're welcome!" he said before he disappeared.

Catching his breath, Logan realized all eyes were on him. This made him flush further. Remus had ensured they'd pay attention to him alright, but he'd done it in the most mortifying way. Yep, this was revenge for taking away his power, alright...

Straightening up, Logan cleared his throat, willing away the rest of his giggles. "A-as I was saying, Thomas..."

The boy looked to him with a smile, waiting intently.

"It would be best if you looked to a professional with your problem. There are reasons why we don't attempt to mess with the pipes ourselves."

"But he'd save money!" Roman protested.

Thomas shook his head. "No. Logan's right on this one. I've tried fixing my own drains before, and I just ended up making it worse. We had to call a professional in the end to fix my mistakes!"

The other sides nodded to Logan respectfully. Logan smiled back nervously, glad no one mentioned his previously exploited weakness. 

When the other sides left, Thomas was alone with Logan.

"I don't know what came over me. Logan, I'm sorry that I've been ignoring you... Could you ever forgive me?" He walked over and reached out for a hug.

"Thomas..." he said. "We can't hug. Physically impossible. But I do accept your apology."

Thomas smiled. "Wait... I know a way we can hug..."

Logan realized it, and facepalmed. Of course! It was so obvious! He turned into Talyn.

The two friends hugged. They felt happy at the physical contact, and Logan was surprised at the flow of emotion within him. He almost teared up at the rarely received physical affection. 

Perhaps Logic could be sentimental after all.

...

After Logan went back to his room, Thomas turned to the audience and spoke in a serious voice.

"So today we saw what happens when you ignore your logic for too long. You might end up making a terrible mistake in thinking you can fix something yourself and end up with leaking pipes, or you may put off your homework to the last second until your anxiety kicks in. If people are telling you to listen to your logical side, they probably aren't joking! Anyways, that's it! Hope you enjoyed, and we'll see you next time! Take it easy, guys, gals, and non-binary pals! Peace out!

...

Bonus End Scene:

Thomas: I just wish there was some way I could make it up to you...

Logan: I'm sorry Thomas. There's really nothing you could offer me, other than listening more.

Thomas: (eyes shift back and forth from Logan to the fridge) By the way, I have some leftover Blueberry Crofters...

Logan: (in an excited, high-pitched voice) DID YOU SAY CROFTERS?!?!?! (runs to the fridge)

Thomas: (laughs hard and slaps his knee)

[capricornus-rex]

A Path I Can’t Follow (3)

Chapter 3: If Stone Could Speak | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: It was a matter of life and death—the question is, should it be the life of many or one, the death of many or one? Cal Kestis makes what ought to be the biggest and hardest decision of his life as he is pitted with a question of high stakes and morals. He descends to the Dark Side and becomes an Inquisitor. A choice he openly made for the sake of saving you, even if you didn't know you needed it until it was too late.

Tags: Dark Side! Cal Kestis, Inquisitor! Cal Kestis

Also posted in AO3

Chapter 1 | Previous: Chapter 2 | Next: Chapter 4 | Masterlist

3 of ?

You and Cal were warming up to the Varan the same way the creature is doing to you. Ever the curious one, BD-1 lit up its scanners and skimmed the whole creature’s body. It flicked its tongue in reaction when it saw blue light shining in its eye.

BD-1 trilled excitedly as soon as he finished the scan, as if insisting Cal to read the data entry right away.

“Alright, buddy, I’ll check it out later!”

“Alright, Cal, see if you can tame this beast,”

Razh called on another Varan, its color was slightly lighter than yours—almost a rather dark gray like stone than obsidian black. This one, however, was less docile than the one you got to befriend. It was wary, cautious, and evidently anxious in the presence of a stranger. It was trying to shoo Cal away from itself, when it saw that Cal was persistent in approaching it—albeit slowly and steadily—it began to back away, tugging at the reins in Razh’s hand but Razh gently went against it, calming it down and reeling it in  closer to Cal.

“She’s rather the shy one!” Razh chuckled, unfazed by the wild bucking of the animal.

BD-1 trilled a panicking tone.

“Yeah, I don’t call that shy, too!” Cal concurred.

It took Razh a few good tugs of the reins before the Varan stopped its bucking, though it hasn’t fully calmed down yet, still cautious of Cal’s presence and scent.

“It’s okay…” Cal cooed, repeated it a number of times until the giant reptile was acquainted with his voice.

He approaches the animal slowly, lifting one foot in front of the other as steadily as he can; he times the moments where he can extend his hand—to close the distance between the Varan’s muzzle and him—and the Varan decided to calm down and see how this goes, croaking and bleating in reaction to Cal.

“There, there,” he said in a calming, hushed tone—he’s already at a finger’s length from the animal.

Finally, his hand plants onto the Varan’s muzzle. The reptilian purred so loudly that the flap under its jaw vibrated, in a certain point of view, it would sound like this Varan was saying “Hello” to Cal—there was a sage-like feeling to its sound. Suddenly, its wariness melted away. It voluntarily stepped forward to Cal, asking for more pats and he was very happy to oblige. The great lizard bowed its head lower, showing its forehead, as if telling Cal to pat it there.

“Nice to meet you too!” Cal chuckled as he cradled its tapering, pointed muzzle in his hands.

Razh decided to teach you and Cal how to mount and ride a Varan. With the first lesson done—which is getting acquainted with the animal—the next one was mounting it. Both Varans were already outfitted with complete riding equipment: saddle, bridle, and reins. You followed Razh’s instructions exactly the way he tells you: hook one foot into the stirrup while clinging onto the knob at the end of the saddle, then finally propelled yourself up until you’re fully mounted.

The Varans were startled when you and Cal mounted them, but you quickly calmed them down with pats on their broad necks.

“I think you won’t have any trouble in steering them,” Razh said assuredly. He mounted his own Varan and led you out of the enclosure.

Like a child, your heart skipped a beat as the Varan started to gait. The three of you rode out of the town’s walls.

“Rule of thumb: never hold onto the reins when mounting, they’ll bolt away the moment you do—and one can never catch up to a Varan.” Razh guided.

“We’ll remember that. Thanks.” Said Cal.

“Alright then, give a little kick on the side of its belly and we should be on our way. Hyah!”

Razh’s Varan reared as it croaked and then sprinted away, the two of you followed suit and felt the first-time thrill of riding such a creature. The reptilian steeds galloped so fast that the warm, humid wind blew right through your hair. You kept your grip tight on the reins as it ran, following Razh’s lead.

As always, you and Cal were neck-and-neck with another. Though it wasn’t a race to begin with, the two of you exchanged childish grins—calling for a little game, but neither of you initiated it. Cal saw you burst in cheer, your laughter as fleeting as the wind, an excitement that is innocent and pure, he smiled to himself.

What I would give just to always see that smile. He thought to himself.

The Varans easily traversed the harsh terrain of volcanic rock, they expertly dodged the geysers that spewed out scalding vapor. Climbing uphill levels was a breeze for these creatures—more so while having riders.

Razh stopped at the edge of a cliff, overlooking a mountain range. You and Cal reined in your mounts as you looked to the same direction.

“This is as far as I can go. Can you take it from here?”

“You’re not coming with us?” Cal said, quite startled.

“I can only lead you to where you need to be. This is your mission, not mine. Your temple should be within that mountain range, take the Varans along the path there.” Razh points to the corner right where a path can be seen by the ridge.

“Thank you. For everything.” You and Cal remarked gratuitously.

He turns his mount around, before leaving, he bides, “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Razh left the scene, his Varan kicked the dust as it walked large strides until it gained momentum for a gallop. You turn your face from your gracious host disappearing in the horizon to the jagged row of rocks that is the mountain range. Cal’s Varan trotted close to you.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just a spooky sight is all,” you brushed off.

“Come on, I’ll ride close to you,”

The two of you propped the Varans forward, steering them to the path downhill that trails along the ridge of the cliff. The great lizards were indeed agile runners, they can tread even on the narrowest of roads. When you took a turn down the path, the entrance of the temple was already in sight, although there was still some distance to be covered; and yet, that same feeling you had upon arriving to Magyon came back to you—this time, it returned to you violently like a tidal wave.

The Varans reduced their pace to a relaxed trot, your heads stuck to the view of the temple as you walked along the road.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you muttered.

“Yeah, me too,” Cal added. “This is definitely it.”

“There’s something else,”

“What is?”

“I feel like we’re being watched,”

“Nonsense. It’s probably just the other critters,”

“Possibly,” you said, still uncertain and unassured by Cal’s remarked.

Meanwhile, peering through binoculars, a Purge Trooper stationed in a vantage point on the clifftop has noticed you. He pressed a button on his gauntlet.

“They’re close,” the Purge Trooper uttered in a husked voice due to their helmet.

“Good, we’ll be expecting them,” a male faceless voice, sinister and stern, answered through the Purge Trooper’s commlink gauntlet.

The closer you got to the temple, the more noticeably uneasy the Varans were—for the rest of the ride, this was the only instance they became noisier, constantly snorting and bleating in every step.

“Even they can sense it,” you point out.

“I don’t understand. It’s a Jedi Temple but… there’s a faint trace of the Dark Side,”

“You don’t think…?”

“No,” Cal refused to even think that Empire has reached this point in the planet. “If they did, then Razh and the villagers should’ve told us right away, the moment we came into their town.”

The 10-foot creatures skidded their claws against the soil, reared and stood on their hind legs as they made their distinctive chitter. You were already a few feet away from the main entrance of the temple. You tried to direct them forward but they fight it.

“They’re anxious, plus they’re too big to squeeze in,” said Cal, petting his Varan’s head, the animal looked left and right—as if it cautiously searching if there was a predator.

The two of you dismounted the Varans, tethered them to a stout but dead branch sticking out of the cracks in the rockface.

The path to the entrance was a broken one, too; having the need to jump across gaps of stairs that have been broken off and eroded—it’s basically like your training session back in Bogano earlier—and climb moderately high heights. Now that you and Cal were ever closer to the temple, a burdening weight rode on your shoulders, a feeling that neither of you can’t shake but only accept as its presence dominated.

“Okay, I really have a bad feeling about this. I can… I can sense it,” you shuddered.

Cal clutched your hand, gave a quick and tight squeeze.

“Hey, we’ll go through this together, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

The great doors of the entrance remained ajar, though the space was enough for the two of you to shimmy through. As you emerged from the crack, you disturbed the dust that was resting on the limestone walls and floor, the musty aroma of the temple wafted in the air, it made you sneeze.

“Bless you, sweetie,” Cal chuckled, beguiled by your adorable sneeze.

“Thanks,”

With the temple in full view, it was just as vast as the Zeffo tombs you’ve visited. In fact, this temple alone is the size of two tombs put together! There was an eerie splendor in it, the extravagance was breathtaking, a mysterious beauty shrouded in ruins. It was astonishing, but also frightening.

You couldn’t keep your head down as you surveyed the high ceilings and walls of the temple. The once intricate carvings and frescoes on the walls have lost their luster, even the ceilings had been decorated with paintings and writings, though their clarity has been dulled by the erosion of time; to the untrained eye, they are nothing but ancient writing, as dead as the structure itself—but you could recognize some old Jedi runes carved into the rock.

Treading carefully and cautiously, you finally bow your head down and kept your eyes off the images on the walls. You went forward, realizing that you’re standing on what ought to be the second level of the temple, given that you had to take the stairs—or lack thereof—at the entrance. The center of the temple was a circle, four directions branched out of it—west, east, north, and south where you came from.

Stepping closer to the banister, you examined the proximity of the second floor, a broken-off portion of the railing led to what seems to be a stepping-stone bridge made out of the fallen pillars of the temple; both the eastern and western paths have crumbled as well, one misstep and it would cost you a cracked skull if you landed on the floor, you’d have to be lucky to have landed in the water—though you’re not sure how deep it could be.

“It’s just like Bogano,” you remarked.

“Except it’s spookier,” Cal added.

“Yep, sure is,”

“Okay, you go first. I’ll be right behind you,”

The bridge up ahead seemed to be intact—at least, most of it. The path was basically a set of stepping stones, from the looks of it—they appear brittle and would crumble at the slightest step. You nimbly hopped and skipped through, and then prepared yourself to cross the next one. Cal followed right behind you, gaining enough momentum for him to speed through, but at the second step, the rock under his feet started to crumble and swerve, causing him to lose his balance.

The second step eventually crumbled upon Cal’s weight and he went down with it as it collapses to the first floor. The impact disturbed and splashed the algae-ridden water that pooled the first level.

“CAL!!!” Your call echoed across the temple.

The water was murky but you were able to spot something red. Cal resurfaced and gasped for air as he splashed about the water. From your perch, you sigh in relief.

“Cal, are you okay?!”

“Yeah, I’m fine! I’ll have to circle back. Go on ahead and I’ll meet you there,”

Cal got himself back up his feet and waded through the knee-deep water until he got to dry land.

“You okay, BD?”

The little droid chirped in response.

“Okay, that’s good…”

Cal surveyed the area. He has landed into the foyer. The base of what ought to be a statue has been reduced to a stone’s throw. There were two doorways on either side of the stage-like spot in the front, and there were passages that led to who-knows-what-and-where. BD-1 hopped off Cal’s back and skittered across the room, scanning everything he can find of value in terms of data—more stone carvings depicting events, deteriorating tapestries whose colors have faded into the water, and the little critters that have made this place their home.

“Come on, BD, we gotta back to [y/n],”

BD chirps happily, strongly agreeing with Cal.

“Now, all we need is to know which leads where,”

The droid trilled in a low, long chirp as if conveying uneasiness while in agreement with Cal.

[empiregalaxy]

Leaving Tumblr

Dear Tumblr, 

The cliche goes 'this is a hard post to write.' Well, it's not. This is very easy to write. I'm leaving Tumblr, and you should too. Here's why.

I joined this social media site in 2012, as I was drawn to discussing films. Soon, I got into 'fandoms', mainly Buffy The Vampire Slayer and A Song Of Ice And Fire. For the first few years, there was no problem. Well, except one. Let's call her 'MN.' MN and I met on Yahoo Answers, and we shared private e-mails. I felt safe around her, and I confided in her some of my secrets. She helped me when a Tumblr user were sending sexually crass messages to me. During a time when my social life was falling apart, she helped me. Then one day, she stopped talking to me. She didn't block or unfollow me, but she pretended that I didn't exist. No replies to my friendly comments (she'd reply to everyone else).

 At the time, I thought I did something wrong. But now I realise she was a coward who didn't have the guts to tell me that she no longer wanted to be my friend. That's the thing about Tumblr. It's full of cowards, who lack the intellectual or moral ability to confront their 'friends.'  And when you mention that, they convince you that the problem lies with you.

So I moved away from the film fandom. 

During the next few years, I get more involved in the ASOIAF fandom, particularly the Arya Stark section. And yeah, I was an SJW (vomit!). I would write posts about Arya, how sucky the Sansa fandom was. But overtime, I saw a shift. What started as simple, light-hearted bashing of Sansa fans turned sinister. They 'controlled' the fandom and the mods at ASOIAF university. Looking back it, I want to tell them that Arya and Sansa are both fictional characters. They aren't real. But the Sansa fans you were bashing and calling names, spreading lies about? They are. I often say that 'Tumblr treats real people like fictional characters, and fictional characters like real people.' It's true. All of these characters that you care about... they aren't real. And people don't have to treat them like they are. 

So I 'defect' from the Arya fandom. And oh boy did they turn on me. Some are more slower than others, and they tell me that the reason why they didn't block me immediately was because 'they didn't want to hurt my feelings.' That's utter bullshit. They did it because they were scared of the fallout. They were cowards. But once they did block me, they'd post lies about me. That I was a stalker. That I was a bad person. I was open slather once they decided that I was no longer one of them. That's the thing about Tumblr: it's tribal. People think there actions are morally justified, if the person receiving them is 'bad.' Everything about me was insulted, even my gifsets.

A user who was particularly vicious was Marie. She and I were mutuals for well over 18 months. But she'd call me a bad person, a creep, mentally ill, an evil Reylo or whatever. Worse, was that these Arya stans were discussing me on Twitter. When I exposed them, I only had my closest mutuals at the time supporting me. (I had over 2,000 followers. Only 3 bothered to ask if I was okay). Users I never heard of suddenly had 'hot takes' about me. 

Lies were spread about me, non stop. I realised that not only was this behaviour permitted on Tumblr, but it was actively rewarded.

And it was all over a FUCKING FICTIONAL CHARACTER. 

This happened in 2016, which involved Brexit and the presidental election of Donald Trump. Look, I believe in free speech. I don't care if you are for or against them. Personally, I despise the European Union and if I were American, yeah, I could have voted Republican. But that's irrelevant. Tumblr users were so unhappy with those results, that anyone who did like Trump and Farage were labelled all the awful names in the book. Racist. Sexist. Nazi. Not only did this teach me that Tumblr users have no idea what those words mean, but that they are willing to use them liberally in order to gain power. Looking back at it, I'm glad Trump won. I'm glad Brexit happened. Not only because of politics, but it meant that you guys LOST. You better get used to that feeling, because if you continue to treat people the way you treated me, that feeling will soon be the only thing you know. 

A common misconception in the media is that Tumblr users act like 'SJWs' because they are young and ignorant. I mean, sure. But Tumblr users act like SJWs because they are fundamentally, cultish in nature and adhere to a hideous morality. I study Modern History, and a big part of that is empathy. What motivates someone to join the SS? Or run a gulag? Or torture someone? I manage to answer those questions, with relative ease. But I still have no idea why Tumblr users are so nasty and stupid. Like, none of you know shit about anything. 

The breaking point, when I realised 'we are all fucked' was when neo-Nazi Richard Spencer got punched. Look, I disagree with EVERYTHING Antifa and the Alt-right do. Celebrating any form of political violence leads to a nasty path. One day you are celebrating some one getting punched, and the next, you are cheering people getting slaughtered. People should never be CELEBRATED for violence. There is no moral justification for it. And you guys are too stupid to figure out that once all the 'Nazis' are gone, you are next to be sent to the gulag. You see yourself as distributing justice, but never receiving punishment. And oh, that is going to hurt you long term.

I would subtely mention why Spencer getting punched was wrong. But people on Tumblr were saying 'if anyone doesn't support Antifa, they should get punched too.' That's utter tyranny, and its something a Nazi would do. Since 2017, the countless violence by AntiFa is astounding. And Tumblr cheers it on like its a fucking joke. Like the real world is a theatre, and we are all patrons in the globe. Well, I've got news for you. The world doesn't exist for your pleasure. People don't have to act in certain ways to make you happy. The universe is not a 'safe space.' And you have the arrogant audacity to think you can bully it into changing.

Worse, was that I was fearful to speak out against it. That's utter evil. I understood the meaning of the term 'self-censorship' and since then, have become a free speech advocate.

Of course, no letter about leaving Tumblr would be complete without mentioning Lindsay. Oh Lindsay. We were friends for 2 years, and then I said a historical fact (that the Nazis persecuted people beyond Jewish people) and she flipped out. She blocked me, sent me anon hate, and told all the Reylos to block me. And you know what? Alot did. I was put on hit and block lists. 

Now, anyone who has studied World War II history knows that I am right. But because Tumblr is contrived of people who can't put Austria on a map, I was attacked and slandered. Lindsay would try to bully my friends into blocking me. They obviously refused. But Lindsay probably does the same shit to other people. Good thing she's a boring basic bitch with no personality, who has the charisma of a rock, because people with her mindset can really hurt people. She'll probably call me a 'Holocaust revisionist' for making fun of her. 

I honestly don't care what she thinks of me. I don't care what Marie thinks of me. They will probably interpret me leaving Tumblr as a victory of sorts. And yeah, I'm gone from Tumblr. But I'm not gone from this world. I will continue to live, to write, to create, to argue. I know I matter. I know I'm a good person capable of a positive impact. I am not what you think I am, and I never will be.

You will always have the knowledge that I am out there, being me, being different and weird, and changing the world. Whilst you, are stuck on a computer screen, bullying people who think differently than you.

That's a bloody victory for me, and a sore loss for you. Although I am leaving, I will not delete this blog. I want people to comb through it, and study it. And learn. See my flaws, and know that it possible to leave Tumblr, and still have a good fucking life. 

Goodbye Tumblr. Madeleine.

PS: I will say that the Sansa fandom and (some) parts of the Reylo fandom has been kind to me. It's sad to leave, because I will miss them. If you are one of them and you'd like to maintain contact, send me an e-mail at snowyfictions@gmail.com and I'll give you my Facebook, Twitter or personal e-mail.

[adleryoung]

Hi!  Our great lord and sire, Emperor Adler II, has had to deploy a tactical milk & cookies distraction and Pook away on sudden business.  He has instructed me, Field Marshal Typantronn Smuchpepper Santocup XVII, to fill you in on the next part of the story.  Traitors to His Majesty will be punished, but there's no reason the rest of you should suffer a dreadful deprivation of the unadulterated delight I'm sure his narrative brings you each week.

Let's see now, last week you got up to meeting Ash Marten, yadda yadda, he came across very sinister, blah blah blah, tried to blackmail our lord, so on and so forth ... ah!  Here we go.  Ash's bargain.

"What I propose," Ash said, "is a very reasonable exchange of services.  I have been compelled to live in the lowfolk lands for a very, very long time, and consequently I have developed a keen sense of how lowfolk think and what they want.  That hair cult of yours is a cute little pet project, but it will be eons before anything actually comes of it.  You need something more effective.  If you wish, I could talk up the amazing 'Lord Ramble' in just the right way, in just the right places, to just the right people.  And rest assured it wouldn't be just me alone; I have many resources I'd be willing to put to work on your behalf.  The same success which has attended Walnut Marten could also be yours.  I believe you are searching for a certain Skönk femme?  I can help with that.  Other knowledge which I posses that would be invaluable to you concerns the time slips and how to control them.  Perhaps you think you have the knowledge now, but how many decades are you willing to lose to trial and error?  What little you've managed to accomplish could be undone in only one time slip - especially if your enemies on this side of the Gate are busy during the weeks, months, years you are absent in Faerie.  Just consider the advantage of having friends over here instead, AND knowing how to use the time slips to your advantage."

"Uh huh," our lord answered bravely.  "What's the catch?  You obviously want something from me in return for these services."

"Very perspicacious of you," Ash sniffed.  "I would be willing to do all of this in exchange for only one tiny, minuscule little trifle.  When you are crowned emperor, the pardon you'll give to yourself in order to escape your prison must also extend to me.  That's all.  I simply want to be able to move freely between worlds again.  That's my offer.  You can have everything you need to succeed right now; no waiting, no convoluted deals with capricious and unreliable lowfolk, no tedious interviews with people who do not give you your due respect as an elf.  Everything right this very moment.  How about it?"

"I have to think about it," His Majesty replied sagaciously.

"Naturally I'd be willing to answer any questions you might have," Ash interjected.   "By all means, you should make an informed decision.  Your caution is understandable, even laudable.  But you WILL make that decision before this conversation is over.  I insist."

"Okay, give me a sec," our sire brilliantly stalled as he withdrew from the scry space.  "I'll be right back."

Majestic Adler Young summoned an Ixie - one of my proud ancestors! - to his side, and asked her:  "Do you still have any Sisterhood contacts?"

"Maybe," the Ixie replied cautiously, knowing that her master was none too pleased with the morally dubious work that the Ominous Orse (greatest Ixie tribe EVER!!) had done for conflicting parties in the past.  "Why dost thou ask?"

(They all talked like that back then.)

"There's this portly old fox-elf calling himself Ash Marten," His Majesty explained.  "He might be Vulpitanian but I'm not sure.  He's a bad elf, WAY beyond Unseelie, and is obviously under a geas that prevents him from approaching within a certain distance of the Gate.  He must have been exiled to the lowfolk world a long time ago.  I want to find out who he is and what crimes he committed."

"We could probably find that information ourselves, Sire," the Ixie replied.  "Why trouble The Sisterhood?"

"Because the one thing they want is for me to be Emperor," our lord Adler explained.  "And they want me to be an Emperor uncontrolled by anyone other than themselves.  Ash is trying to extort a royal favor from me by blackmail, and it's unlikely he will stop after he's gotten what he asked for.  Blackmailers are never satisfied; I learned that from my lore & history lessons.  This puts Ash Marten at odds with The Sisterhood, which is a fact I think they'd be very interested in knowing.  I can also tell them what he looks like, and his exact location."

"Blackmail, Sire?" the Ixie asked in shock.  "Verily, I think this would be of great interest to The Sisterhood.  What exactly has he got on thee?"

"That's just it," our sire explained.  "He's bargaining with nothing.  He managed to overhear my life's story when I confessed everything to Vernier a while back, and he thinks he can use it to manipulate me.  Sure, some of those details would be personally embarrassing if they got out, but the most important parts of the story would only serve to exonerate me and prove my innocence.  I don't understand what Ash is trying to pull here.  He's either extremely desperate, or he thinks I'm a complete idiot.  Or maybe he has something else up his sleeve.  The point is, he's threatening me and I don't like it.  You get in touch with the appropriate people and I'll try to stall him as long as I can."