#because every scene was another odd choice

[respectthepetty]

GIRL, NO!!!!

Outing someone by extension at the her job is some wild shit an immature Pink Person would do, and her bestie just encouraged her!

These two wee little lesbians are one whole ass problem for Hiroko and me this episode! Hiroko's backstory was, I don't know, odd-ish, but Risa and Ayaka deciding to make this about them is a queer wrong I cannot support.

The only thing I truly took away from this episode is Honda Yuya has always been trying to get Hiroko a girlfriend since Day One, and I hope his character is going home to a man every night.

It's okay, Hiroko. If nobody got you, Yuya got you.

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch Chapter Five: The Princess and the Queen

|Aemond Targaryen x Strong!Reader|

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: Hello, besties! How about that finale... I wanted to thank everyone who has left lovely comments and support about the story. It really makes me smile. I hope I continue to write y'all a story you like as it progresses. Thanks again!

Chapter Warnings: mentions rape, trauma, and symptoms related to childhood SA, mentions self-harm, emotional abuse.

The halls of the Red Keep were a vast expanse filled with candelabras, torches, paintings, and tapestries. If it was night, one could pass by a person and not notice them. The tremendous shadows held many secrets, causing you only to venture alone if there was no choice. 

But in the day, with the help of the warm sun shining through archways and open windows, it was a magnificent sight. It made you feel deeply grateful and amazed that your ancestors built a place like this and stood the test of time with its beauty. 

A tapestry, in particular, caught your eyes as you walked the grand halls to your lessons with the old crone Septa Marlow. It was woven with the finest colored wool with shiny red, green, brown, and white silk threads, depicting a scene between men, women, and dragons. Studying it with furrowed brows, you felt perplexed as you tilted your head, trying to understand the story told through the fabric. It looked like the people were naked, enjoying a festive party filled with wine, smiles, and dragons that devoured each other, mouths of men, women, and beasts on bodies in odd places.

The artist showed one man with his head buried between a lady’s thighs and a dragon pressed closely behind him. Another was a woman and a dragon resting between her legs, leaning over the top of her with its pointed tongue touching her chest. The memory of what Aegon did to you on the ramparts that night came to the forefront of your mind, and it sent a hot, nauseating wave to your stomach and privy parts. It was such a bewildering piece of art that you never noticed until now, making you wonder if it had always been there and if there were more of them.

“Do you like it?” A voice asked beside you, causing you to release a shriek as you jumped out of your skin. 

As you tried to calm your nerves, Aegon suddenly stood beside you, touching your chest. Every fiber of your being told you to run. To scream, kick, or hurt your uncle after what he did, but instead, your body betrayed you, anxiety filling your shoes with rocks.

“Personally, it’s one of my favorites. It shows how our dragon blood came to be,” he continued, jutting his narrow hip to the side as he flicked his frizzy mane. 

You couldn’t think, breathe, or scratch at the prickling hair on your arms. You were mad—that is what you were feeling. You were upset because your uncle stole you from your thoughts and didn’t listen when you told him to stop. 

“You hurt me, Aegon!” The words echoed against the pale redstone as he flinched like you had struck him. He briefly stared at your scowl as you did with the tapestry, thin lips pursed as he tried wrapping his mind around what you could be referencing. 

“Oh! You mean the other night?” Aegon chortled and shrugged his hands in the pockets of his trousers as if this was the most basic of revelations. “Twas nothing, niece. You know it. We cuff each other about all the time and think nothing of it. This was no different.” 

Fire filled your veins at his passivity, digging your nails into your skin until they left crescents in their wake. “No, this was different. You hurt me, uncle. It still hurts there,” you confessed, attempting to keep your anger instead of the gradual wetness that itched your nose. 

Worry flashed in Aegon’s amethyst eyes as he fully faced you, taking a step closer as you took one back in return. He pretended not to feel the slight at your wordless rejection and held out a sinewy hand. This was how it always was when Aegon did something you didn’t like. You would pout for a few days until he begrudgingly apologized without the words, and then you and your brothers would tease Aemond. He believed this time would be no different.

“Come on,” he sighed with a slight roll of his eyes. “Let’s skip your lessons today and go to the Godswood. You can pick those pretty flowers you like. It’ll be like nothing ever happened,” your uncle offered with his typical lopsided grin.

The action startled you, causing your muscles to tense and your spine to go rigid as you hugged your stomach for comfort. Fear replaced any anger you felt at the notion that you would be alone with Aegon and have no one to help you if he didn’t listen to you again. Without knowing it, your skirt became damp, a dark spot slowly forming on the sky-blue fabric between your legs as you soiled yourself. 

Your face heated in shame as your uncle waited for your answer, too stunned by the involuntary action to think of running away when he abruptly noticed the liquid flowing into the cracks of the stone floor. He jumped away with a disgusted yelp like it would burn him if he touched it as you covered your eyes in embarrassment. Tears leaked from them, unable to stop the thick droplets as they ran down your cheeks like rivers and stained your sleeves. Your uncle would surely use this against you for the rest of your life.

This was all Aemond’s fault, Aegon thought. It’s not enough that he is their mother’s favorite. He had to take the one thing that was his—the only person who was solely at his side and his side only. Now, his being in his niece’s presence caused her to wet herself out of fright. He didn’t mean to hurt you. You both were having a bit of fun. The serving girls never seemed to act the way you were.

Aegon stared at you. Unsure of what to do and if you would still avoid his touch, he took another step forward, preventing the urine from touching his shoes, and reached out to extend tense words of comfort. 

“All is well, niece,” he awkwardly consoled and patted your shoulder like you would a rabid dog. “Tis nothing-”

“Princess!”

The title was screamed down from the end of the hall, interrupting your uncle and distracting you from your shame. Both you and Aegon turned to the commotion and saw Septa Marlow storming towards you at a speed faster than a woman her age should travel. You were severely late to your lessons, and per your mother’s orders, Marlow was allowed to search for and punish you as she saw fit for your misbehaviors. 

Releasing a defeated groan, you hung your head and mentally prepared for the tongue lashing you would receive from her and your mother later as she stood before you, huffing with her bony hands on the waist of her grey skirt. You attempted to hide the damp spot on your dress and covered it with your hands.

“Little Miss, I’ve been waiting for you in the lesson room for half an hour! Your mother told you what would happen if you skipped them again,” the old maid sighed exasperatedly, shaking her habit-covered head in disappointment. “You are a woman of the crown, and yet you toss your duties aside as if they are no more than rotten fruit. When will you learn?” 

Your eyes focused on the pool that glistened in the daylight as it reflected your face. A countenance puffy with tears and wet with snot, plump, moist lips pursed into a deep frown framed by a head of dark waves. At this angle, you could see the small patch of hair you plucked out of your scalp, the urge to touch it coming over you. You wondered if others could see it, too.

“Look me in the eyes when I’m speaking to you, Princess,” Marlow ordered with a strict tone. You gradually lifted your gaze to match hers, fighting back another onslaught of tears. 

You were tired of getting in trouble. You wanted to be the good girl your mother said you were, but it was hard. It seemed as if everything you did was wrong, and you began to believe you deserved harsher punishment because of your continued failure. The urge to feel the sting of hair pulled from its follicle was too strong. You needed to be alone, away from irate Septas and parents, and with your brothers or Aemond—people who understood your sadness and would listen to it.

Your Septa observed you with calculating eyes, flicking from the sorrowful arch of your brows to the downward bow of your lips to your stained skirt. You tried to obscure it more from her view, twisting your body to the side, but it was for naught as she pulled at your wrist, displaying your disgrace for all to see. Marlow’s gaze was piercing, trying to pull puzzle pieces together as she looked from you to Aegon. 

Without warning, she yanked you behind her by your arm, feeling as if she wanted to pull it from the socket and put her body between yours and your uncle’s. 

“What did you do?” she interrogated sharply, her thin lips becoming even thinner with her jaw set. Aegon stared at her, stunned, and you began to weep in horror. “What did you do to her?” 

The question sent chills down your limbs, making the hairs stand on end. What did he do to you? All you could comprehend was that Aegon hurt you with a part that was supposed to be covered, like when you would get into fights that developed into blows. You knew it was wrong, but how Marlow shielded you with her body like a soldier on the battlefield made you think it was more than what a simple scuffle would be.

Aegon stared at Septa Marlow, shocked. His mouth agape as he stuttered to explain, his hands gesturing when he couldn’t get the words out. “Nothing!” he shouted in defense and stepped back from the elderly woman. 

“Liar,” she staunchly declared as she grabbed your uncle by his ear, bringing him closer to her seething gaze.

“Unhand me wench! I am a prince!” He screeched like a kicked dog, yelping and hollering in astonishment. You never thought Septa Marlow was so hearty or bold enough to scream in the crown prince’s face, and it scared you to no end as you hid in the fabric of her scratchy wool dress.

“People respond to pain according to where they were hurt, my Prince,” she spat as you listened with surprise. 

Did she know?

Aegon was awful. He felt slighted and would upset everyone just because he was. You worried Marlow would get into trouble with the Queen for touching her son and tried to lead her away, but your little arms were useless as she spoke through gritted teeth. 

“She isn’t one of your toys you can use as you see fit. When Rhaenyra hears of what you’ve done to her daughter, you’re mother won’t be able to protect you.” 

With that, Septa Marlow released Aegon as he whined, rubbing the afflicted area like she had ripped his ear from his head. You didn’t want her to get reprimanded on behalf of defending you, so you tugged at her sleeve again, begging with your eyes for her to leave. 

“Please, Septa, I want to go to my lessons now,” you implored, the words hiccuped.

She faced you then as if she suddenly recalled your presence beside her and stroked a comforting hand down your loose hair, coming to cup your cheek with a tenderness she had never given you before. It startled you into silence. Anguish glistened in Marlow’s blue eyes, as light as the sapphire bedsheets you slept on every night as she took your balled fist into her cold one. 

“Let us get you cleaned first,” she kindly replied, disregarding Aegon as if he didn’t matter. 

Septa Marlow seemed almost mournful like she suddenly discovered that she had lost a loved one as she led you down the many halls to your chambers in silence.

Your ladies-in-waiting greeted you with startled expressions as they tended to their duties, surprised to see you and Septa Marlow at an odd time. The first one to bow was Edwina of House Karstark, the youngest of Lord Rolan Karstark and his Lady wife. She was a few years older than you and was stout, standing on tall, sturdy legs and hips. Her shoulders were broad underneath her crimson servant gown, which featured wide blue-gray eyes and long brown hair styled underneath her cap. 

“Princess,” she politely greeted with a curtsy as the others followed. 

Septa Marlow wasted no time ordering your ladies to draw you a bath, the women ceasing their actions as they hastily ran to the kitchens to gather hot water. Staring at the older woman with a wary expression, you played with your fingers as you felt the overwhelming fluttering sensation of nerves bubble in your stomach. You hadn’t bathed since before that night, and the idea of multiple people seeing you in a vulnerable state made you want to run away. This wasn’t something you had experienced before. 

Typically, you loved baths, even bathing with your brothers on occasion as you played with toys and the servants scrubbed your bodies, but now, it seemed as if an abrupt aversion deep within you spawned, and you were powerless to stop it.

The maids finished with their last pail of water, dumping it into the metal tub and sprinkling in slices of oranges and nectarines, which were your favorites. Yet you still looked at the steaming water with reluctance. You didn’t want to bathe. It would take too much time, and having your body bare, feeling the hands of people gripping, scrubbing your flesh, water sloshing… 

It was too much. 

“Come, princess, let’s undress,” Enith, another of your ladies from House Blackbar, kindly ordered you with a wave of her dainty hands. 

Without warning, you ran to your bed, resting on your knees as you shook your head vehemently. “No! I don’t want to take a bath. I want to go to my lessons with Septa Marlow!”

The women exchanged confused glances, multiple pairs of colored eyes waiting for the other to do something about your out-of-character disobedience. They knew something must be wrong. You were never one to tolerate having the slightest bit of dirt underneath your fingernails, and not only did you deny cleaning yourself despite being covered in urine, but you wanted to go to spend time with Septa Marlow. You despised your lessons. You would kick and scream until your voice gave out, saying you didn’t want to go. Now you were doing the same.

“Princess,” Marlow called her gaze disbelieving and holding a look of challenge. “You must bathe before you can be seen. Your skirt reeks of piss.” You comprehended her reasoning, but something inside you refused to listen as you shouted disagreements.

Your Septa, the boldest of the women, came forward to grab you, but you swiftly dodged her, sliding across your wrinkled sheets. She dealt with your mother before you and knew how to handle troublesome young girls, though the years weighed heavily on her parchment-thin skin and brittle bones, and she was unable to get a hold of you. 

“I don’t want to take a bath!” You shouted as Edwina took a step forward, attempting to help Marlow undress you. They managed to snatch your leg and remove your dress as you wiggled and squirmed in their grasp, the fabric catching on your ears.

You quickly scampered away after they let go and flung open the adjoining door to your brother’s room, running over each of the neatly made beds as Septa Marlow and your ladies chased you. Swiftly, you ran to the exit, attempting to run out and down the hall. To where they couldn’t find you but were hastily stopped by Enith in front of you.

“Get, Princess Rhaenyra,” Marlow ordered Enith as she and Edwina restrained you, kicking and screaming in their grasp. “What is wrong with you? Does this have something to do with Prince Aegon?” Marlow pointedly questioned, on the verge of coughing with exertion.

Refusing to answer, you continued to thrash against them. You didn’t want to hurt your Septa despite disliking her, but if she told your mother about Aegon being the cause of your accident and she started asking questions, you would have no choice but to tell her about that night. Perhaps you could try to lie and say your uncle startled you in the corridor, which is why you wet yourself. You prayed to the Gods that she would believe you.

What felt like hours of struggling against a girl a few years older than you and an ancient Septa was moments as your mother emerged, a startled, wide-eyed look on her face as she watched you bite Edwina’s dress sleeve. 

“Enough!” your mother shouted over your dispute, ceasing all three of you as you panted.

Without hesitation, you ripped your arms away from the women, stomping to your room and curling face-first into a maroon settee. They were powerless to stop you now that your mother was here. You could hear their mumblings through the wall as a new wave of tears crashed over you, burying your cries into the soft cushions. 

You were uncertain what the reason for your sobs was. It could be that you had just experienced a rush of emotions you weren’t ready to handle or the guilt of making your ladies and Septa Marlow chase you around your shared quarters like a mouse, yet you knew the real reason. You tried denying it briefly, but the conscience your mother instilled in you made you see the truth. 

You were terrified about what she would do if she discovered you snuck out with Aegon, drank stolen wine, and ate desserts from the kitchens when you were supposed to be asleep.

The door to Jace and Luke’s room clicked shut, and you briskly raised your head at the sound, seeing your mother. You swiftly buried your face back into the cushions as you heard the delicate tapping of her shoes come closer. She said nothing for a long moment, sitting beside you and rubbing a gentle hand in soothing circles on your back. 

Rhaenyra wasn’t upset with your behavior; she was more concerned than anything. Like Septa Marlow said, this was unlike you. Your nursemaids taught you how to use the privy, and you hadn’t wet the bed since you were four. For Seven’s sake, it was everything your mother could do to get you out of the tub! 

She knew something had happened, something terrible.

“Little love?” Rhaenyra tenderly spoke your name as she leaned closer. “Will you tell me the cause of this?” 

You merely sniffled in response, rendered into tearful silence. 

Rhaenyra gave you a pitying unseen smile and released a sigh through her nose. She hadn’t seen you this worked up since Aemond pushed you into the garden fountain, smacking your mouth against the stone and knocking out your front tooth. With the tooth, it was an easy fix. All she needed to do was explain that another would grow back since you were young. With this, she was unsure of the cause and did not know how to get the reason out of you. 

“I can see this is hurting you, and it pains me deeply. You must know that whatever transpired will never make me love you less,” your mother confessed, her free hand clasping yours. “Whatever has you feeling in such torment is far more harsh of a punishment than I could ever give you. I could not bear to do more.” 

Slowly, you removed your face from the pillow, turning to rest your plump cheek on it. “You won’t be mad at me if I tell you?” you asked with a childish softness to your voice. 

“You know that I won’t ever lie to you. I cannot guarantee I won’t be upset, but the inner torment you currently face suffices any consequence I could give you,” your mother replied honestly, sighing and scrunching her brows.

While the words didn’t make you feel better, you did feel a lightness in your soul. You fully faced her then, tearful eyes glistening in the natural light like polished mahogany obsidian. Hiccuping your breaths, you leaned on your mother’s shoulder as she wrapped her long arm around you, uncaring about the foul-smelling gown. 

“Aegon, he sn-snuck up on me while I went to my lessons. He scared me,” you explained, thoughts and memories all mumbled together as you began to twist your hair to soothe your nerves. 

“Is that all?” she inquired in disbelief. “Your uncle scared you, and that caused you to…” Your mother didn’t finish the thought before you shook your head, impulsively tugging at your dark locks. 

“No, Mama. It happened before then. A few-a few nights ago, Aegon left me a note underneath my pillow and said he had something to tell me. He told me to follow a secret passage and that he was waiting for me.” 

You saw the color drain from your mother’s face, her violet eyes widening in horror as she swallowed nervously. “We went into the kitchens and wine cellars, helping ourselves to food and drink. A scullery maid caught us, and then he took me outside to the battlements of the Holdfast. We sat, ate, and drank, and he told me about Queen Alicent’s plan to arrange a marriage between us.”

Your mother clenched her jaw, clutching your shoulder and forcing you to face her, gaze searching for something. “Is that all?” You swiftly nodded your head. “Nothing else happened? Your uncle didn’t take you anywhere? He didn’t touch you?”

You stared at her, confused, examining the delicate slope of her nose and the intensity of her eyes. “No. Aegon didn’t take me anywhere. We stayed in the castle,” you answered hastily, trying to appease her unrest. “But he did hurt me. That’s why I don’t want to bathe; it still hurts.”

“What do you mean? How did he hurt you?” The severity of her gaze didn’t lessen, her strong fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders as she said your name. 

“He put his privy part inside-” 

You were unable to complete your sentence as your mother suddenly let out a heart-wrenching cry, pulling you close to her chest as she sobbed. Her outburst took you aback, but instinctively wrapped your arms around her, trying to offer comfort.

“Tis alright, Mama. It’s like when I lost my front tooth,” you said calmly, but she shook her head. 

“No, no, it’s not. Aegon did something to you, something you are far too young to comprehend. Does Alicent’s bitterness for our youth blind her from decency and honor?” 

And with that, you learned what Aegon did to you. 

Rape. 

Your eldest uncle raped you before you knew the meaning of the word—before you inquired where children came from. The tapestry you saw in the hall made sense now, except they were experiencing pleasure while you experienced pain. Your mother told you that what Aegon did was something that should only happen between two people who understood the consequences of sex. 

Your uncle took advantage of your innocence and abused his power over you. He knew you would allow him to do whatever he wanted because you sought his approval like nothing else. 

Your mother told you she also experienced something similar with her Uncle Daemon when she was much older and comprehended what sex was. She recounted how he left a note for her that led to a passage in her chambers just like you did, though he led her out of the safety of the Red Keep to the Streets of Loom and Silk to see her people where he abandoned your mother. You decided then that you didn’t like your Great Uncle Daemon. 

“Did he…” Rhaenyra couldn’t finish her question, tears choking her. “Did he reach completion? Did his… his seed…” 

You stared at her in confusion, still grappling with all she had explained. “Aemond caught us and took me back to his room. I didn’t see any of his seed afterward,” you answered plainly as your mother grimaced at the words. “He hasn’t told anyone. He promised not to. We’ve spent time together reading, and I think he’s becoming my friend.” 

Rhaenyra wiped the water from her face and gave you a forced smile, her mouth wet as she bobbed in acknowledgment. 

“Wonderful. I’m happy for you. You’ve always been a kind girl,” she thickly said, swallowing the excess moisture and smoothing your loose strands of hair. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, hmm? I can show you how so you don’t have to become bear with anyone you don’t want to.”

“But it’s going to hurt, mama,” you whined, tugging on her satin gray dress sleeve.

“I know, sweetheart, but you must,” she sighed, stroking you in a gesture of comfort for you or her; you didn’t know. “How about we bring Jace here? He’s due for a scrub.”

Rhaenyra would do anything to control this uncontrollable situation. 

Fidgeting with your hair nervously, you nodded in acquiescence, allowing her to undress and lower you into the water. The warm liquid burned you between your legs like you thought it would as you clawed at your mother’s arms, releasing whimpers with tensed muscles until you adjusted. She comforted you with sweet nothings until you calmed, kissing your forehead and calling for a servant to fetch your brother. 

Jace arrived begrudgingly moments later from his lessons and stripped himself bare. You couldn’t help how your gaze drifted below his waistline as you unwillingly compared it to the memory of Aegon’s. You wondered what it would look like, “aroused,” as your mother called it. It sent an unwelcomed yet not entirely unpleasant tickle into your stomach as he got in with a huff. 

As Rhaenyra declined the assistance of your attendants and Jace’s manservants in bathing her children, she deftly took the supplies from them and dismissed them with a swift gesture. Guiding you on scrubbing your body and washing your hair, she momentarily paused as she came upon the small patches of missing hair. A sense of anxiety gripped you as you felt her fingers inspecting the area, but to your relief, she made no comment and continued as if nothing occurred. 

You appreciated her kindness and understanding more than ever at that moment as Jace mischievously splashed you with soapy liquid, and a water fight between giggling siblings ensued.

The sun casts its faint glow from behind the gray clouds of King’s Landing, rays of light shining as if from the heavens above. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen stood atop her high balcony with her newborn in her sturdy arms, swaying him gently as she hummed a tune and looked over all the splendor the city offered. It was a land she would one day rule over and her children after her as she smiled at the sleeping bundle near her heart. 

The Princess loved her children dearly, especially the man she had them with. Despite having a name that would strike fear into his foes, he had a gentle heart. She felt her allies severely dwindle when he left. In a place Rhaenyra called home, she began to feel like an outcast. Suppose Alicent’s elaborate charade of parading a newborn child and its mother around the Red Keep was any say. The lengths her old friend would go to humiliate Rhaenyra were limitless. 

She recalled balking at her husband Laenor abandoning his post at the Red Keep to escape the rumors of the court and martial unhappiness to fight in the Stepstones with his father. But as time passed, the idea of leaving became more and more reasonable to Rhaenyra. On the chance that she would leave her home, it would not be for her, but for her children, for her only daughter whose innocence was taken before she knew what it was. It made her ill to understand that a child who was far too young to wonder where children came from would experience such depravity. 

Now more than ever, Rhaenyra questioned her children’s safety.

The Princess didn’t care about the concept of purity in this situation. No one knew what occurred other than the two involved, her and Aemond. If word happened to get out, she would fight for her daughter’s name. She was sure her half-brothers would not tell anyone, as it would be death to Alicent’s and her family’s pious image. It was mutually assured destruction. 

The door to Rhaenyra’s bed chambers opened, and a guard bowed and announced the unexpected visitor. She didn’t invite anyone. At the thought, her heart began to race, and she worried it could have something to do with you as she put Joffrey down. 

“Queen Alicent of House Hightower,” he boomed, bowing his helmeted head as the woman entered. 

Rhaenyra had half a mind to send her away. How dare she come into her quarters after everything that happened? After decades of torment and snide comments, she approaches her old friend with an air of ignorant, entitled kindness. 

“My Queen,” Rhaenyra acknowledged, refusing to extend a bow as she clasped her hand behind her back. “What do I owe the pleasure?” 

Alicent smiled briefly, encircling her fingers over her olive and gold waist as she stepped closer. The pointed star of the Seven glistened around her dainty neck. She swallowed as the Princess studied her with calculating eyes, sensing an unusual aura of hostility.

“Excuse my intrusion, Princess. I needed to speak to you. I know that we’ve had our share of differences as of late,” she began with a deep breath, wringing her digits, “but I believe that we agree on the decency of the realm and the future of our Houses.” 

Rhaenyra raised a manicured brow at the woman before her, and her peony lips curled into a snarl of disgust. She knew the next words that would undoubtedly follow.

“I know you are not blind to the rumors about the plainness of your children-”

“Vile accusations fueled by those lusting for my ruination,” the Princess interrupted, standing behind the golden-colored settee that separated her from the Queen.

Alicent sighed and pursed her lips, refusing to admit her part in the gossip. She knew it was fact, but that didn’t matter now. She could sense a change in the air, could feel the future in which her light slipped away into the darkness. It was a desperate proposition, seeing as Rhaenyra had already made one. 

“I recall in the days prior that you proposed a marriage between your son Jace and my only daughter Helaena. I wish to offer a compromise, your eldest daughter and my eldest son. They would make a fine match. No one would seek to undermine your inheritance if our Houses were united if we allied ourselves,” she rushed, worried that Rhaenyra would interrupt her like before and spoil her dream. 

She desperately wanted to call you her own, to turn things into how they were meant to be. Alicent itched to tear at the skin of her nails as the Princess stewed in the silence. 

Rhaenyra was insulted at Alicent’s desperation and audacity in countering a marriage alliance that her father told her she vehemently refused. One didn’t do these things. Alicent, the woman who spouted about decency and propriety, dared propose a marriage after the atrocity her son committed before the eyes of the Gods.

A scornful laugh erupted in Rhaenyra’s chest as she traced the wooden engravings of the furniture. “Do you truly think me so desperate?” she challenged bitterly, shaking her loosely tied hair. “You approached my negotiations with such repugnance, and now you come asking me if I will sell my only daughter to that wastrel you call a son. No. You’ve already taken too much.” 

Hurt and confusion laced the wrinkles of Alicent’s face, her doe eyes wide with a helplessness Rhaenyra hadn’t seen since they were girls. She felt as if the Queen pierced her heart with her amber orbs, but she swiftly pushed it aside as she recalled the swollen patches of missing hair on your scalp. Distress was not the expectation Rhaenyra had in mind when she denied Alicent, and it briefly perplexed her before the realization dawned. 

“You don’t know,” she enunciated more to herself than the woman in the room. “Of course, he wouldn’t tell you, but why not Aemond?” 

The Queen became distressed at Rhaenyra’s ambiguity and finally began to pull at her cuticles, attempting to distract her from the anxiety and turn it into pain. She wanted to ask what Aemond and Aegon didn’t tell her, but the words stuck in her parched throat.

Rhaenyra let out a sharp breath through her nose as she walked around an armchair and became face-to-face with her forgotten friend. A sense of superiority came over the Princess at finally having the upper hand after years of pining for Alicent’s kindness. At the moment, she had no desire to end the strife between them. 

“Aegon stole my daughter into the night and led her to the ramparts of the Holdfast, where he raped her,” Rhaenyra described with a pointed fury. “Do you know what it’s like to hear your child cry in your arms because someone debased her? She didn’t know the name of what happened to her.” 

Gasping in horror, Alicent covered her lips in shock, bracing one hand on her stomach as if she would vomit. Her son, her firstborn, the child that she loved dearly but also doomed her to eternal suffering, had raped his young niece. Aegon raped the Gods’ Light. If anyone got word of the atrocity committed on the small folk’s favorite Princess, the realm would turn on House Hightower. No one would support Aegon’s claim despite him being a son.

“Who else knows of this?” Alicent hastily asked, her face pale with fear. A small, desperate part of her still wished to continue with the proposal. Maidens were forced into unhappy marriages as a part of life, and this one would be no different. 

With a dismissive snort, Rhaenyra pivoted away from the Queen and strode back to Joffrey’s cradle. It was no shock to her that the Queen had made such a request. Her preoccupation with appearances and how she was perceived always seemed to overshadow genuine empathy, a characteristic that she appeared to have inherited from her father.

“Aemond, and now, you,” Rhaenyra answered as she stroked the button nose of her newborn. “That is the boy you want my child to wed. Her rapist. What do you think my father would do should he find out?” 

Alicent inhaled sharply, nerves winding themselves into a ball as blood trickled into her nail beds. “There is no need to get the King involved. His health is far too precarious. I shall see to it.” 

The Princess stood in the dimly lit chamber, her emotions simmering beneath the surface as she gazed down at Joffrey, nestled amidst the soft white linens that cradled him. It was nearly time for his feeding, and she didn’t want to continue discussing with the wetnurse present, knowing that any whispers or speculation about her daughter would spread like fleas.

“Good. Out of our shared blood, I will spare Aegon from his fate at the Wall. Know that I will be the one to decide where my daughter’s hand goes. You may take your leave,” Rhaenyra dismissed with a flick. 

Alicent stood frozen in place, her wide brown eyes shimmering with tears as her hand instinctively reached for the delicate Seven-Pointed Star pendant resting at the base of her neck. This object symbolized her unwavering devotion to Faith, virtue, and sacred things. However, in this moment of distress, it felt as though the points of the star were searing into her flesh, cutting into her tender palm like a mark of condemnation. The Queen’s fury, initially directed inward at herself for the perceived failure of raising a son she deemed unworthy, swiftly turned towards her eldest child. 

One thing remained unanswered as Alicent swallowed the lump in her throat, inhaling a deep breath before the question came from her plump lips. 

“How does Aemond know? Did he…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, choked at the idea that both her sons were the wickedest men. 

Rhaenyra shook her head scornfully, sneered, and took Joffrey into her arms, refraining from the bitter laugh that threatened to erupt. “He stopped Aegon from reaching completion inside her, but there was no point. He’d already damaged my daughter beyond comprehension. She wets herself at the sight of him and refuses to bathe without her brother.” 

The Princess’s gaze traveled to the floor, a scowl on her face. The recollection of you whimpering as you lowered into the tub played in her mind’s eye. She sat on the lavish settee that separated her from the Queen, exhausted, the effort of standing still too precarious after her labors. 

“That is your decency,” Rhaenyra jeered as Alicent stood with her back ramrod straight. 

The wetnurse entered the Princess’s chambers before she could respond, wordlessly understanding that this was not a subject to discuss in front of the staff.

The act of Aegon fraternizing with maids and indulging in excess was already troubling, but he deliberately destroyed one of the few things that brought Alicent joy. It felt like a personal attack. He shattered your innocence and the light that used to brighten Alicent’s dreams. Although conflicted about the fact that it was her son who committed this act, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of rage inside her, causing her to drop her arms to her sides swiftly.

Sins such as these will not go unpunished, she thought.

“I thank you for your time, Princess. I will see that the matter is duly handled.” With a heavy heart, the Queen bid farewell to her old friend, lingering momentarily at the chambers’ door before leaving. Little did she know that it would be many years before she would set foot in that place again.

As Rhaenyra observed the Green Queen’s departure, her auburn locks cascading gracefully with each subtle movement of her hips, she resolved to assume dominion over Dragonstone. Despite the perils of her leaving, her children’s safety took precedence over her own. The Red Keep was no longer a secure place for any of them. 

Alicent waited until twilight blanketed the castle as she tentatively nursed a goblet of wine, candles flickering in the darkness. She rarely indulged in this vice, but this day required such comfort. She didn’t think one’s world could end in mere moments, yet for her, it did. The future that helped lay Alicent to rest atop her silk pillows was no more. 

After years of tolerating Rhaenyra’s and Viserys’ arrogance, upholding duty, the kingdom, and the law, she felt she was due this one thing. It was not so much to ask. If her old friend were a better ruler, she would understand that marriage to the one who took advantage of you would be a minuscule sacrifice to make for the good of the realm. But Rhaenyra was a good mother, not a ruler—something which Alicent both envied and disliked. 

Downing the last contents of her cup, Alicent stood still in the day’s attire as she nodded to Ser Criston, who returned one in kind. He knew her destination without her speaking it into existence, escorting her the few rooms to her eldest son’s. She didn’t bother the courtesy of knocking as she shoved open the sturdy oak door to reveal her son resting on the mattress near his window, sheets at his thighs and prick in his hand. Bile briefly burned the Queen’s throat, covering her sneered lips to prevent it from spilling.

It wasn’t the first time she caught Aegon pleasuring himself, nor did she think it would be the last as she witnessed him with a pocket portrait of you in his grasp, stroking his glistening member. Alicent felt sick, turning away from the blasphemous sight before her and into Ser Cristion’s armored chest. This is not her son. 

“Fuck!”

The commotion alerted Aegon to their presence as he shouted obscenities, swiftly covering his hips with the discolored sheets. Was he not afforded the same privacy as others? The Keep was his home, too.

“You are in the presence of your Queen Mother. Act as such,” Criston ordered, the whisper of his hand gliding over Alicent’s back. She stepped away from her sworn protector, brown curls loose as she swallowed her tears.

“What have you done now?” she interrogated with a resentful shake of her head, a scowl on her plump lips.

Aegon peered at her confused, mouth opened as he craned his neck upwards. It was hard to tell what his mother implied, seeing as he got into his fair share of mischief alone and with his nephews and niece. “I don’t know what you mean,” he answered honestly, and Alicent believed him. 

She knew her son would survive daily with nothing but firewater and was unsurprised by his dispassionate attitude. This was another one of his jokes, she realized. Aegon was so ignorant of his bullying that it became his nature. He was incapable of understanding the magnitude of how his actions affected others. 

“What you did to the Princess, how you lured her from her bed at some unholy hour and raped a child! She is a child, Aegon!” Alicent roared, her velvet voice rattling in her throat with anger, arms trembling at her sides. “She does not understand the relationship between man and woman, and you took advantage of her. She trusted you!”

Tears pooled in Aegon’s amethyst eyes, his mouth pouting from his mother’s tirade. “She told me I could do it. I didn’t mean to hurt her!” he protested, recoiling. Aegon felt like a child who destroyed a precious vase after his parent told him not to touch it. “Did Aemond tell you? You know he’s lying. He’s still upset about the pig.”

“Another depiction of your cruelty,” the Queen snidely retorted, face curled in disgust. “Rhaenyra will never agree to a union of our Houses after what you’ve done. You’ve ruined all prospects of my happiness. How does it make you feel to treat your mother this way?” 

When her son did not answer, choosing to lower his head and cower, she stormed towards him, causing Aegon to scamper upright in fear and clutch the sheets in his trembling fingers. Without warning, Alicent struck her son across his cheek, pink blooming across his pale skin. Her son cradled his face as tears began to fall, but she roughly yanked Aegon’s hand away, hitting him like before and causing his lip to split as she screamed.

“How does it feel to have destroyed a child’s life? To have effectively decimated all chances of peace with your repulsive desires? She would have solidified your claim. No one would have thought to raise their banners otherwise,” she fumed as her arms gestured wildly, Aegon flinching with her move. “The realm’s blood is on your hands.”

He hiccuped, unevenly breathing as snot dripped into his mouth, stinging his bloodied lip. Aegon rubbed his swollen cheek that would no doubt bear the mark of his mother’s rage the next morn, swallowing his tears, spit, and mucus. 

“I’m sorry, mummy,” he remorsefully expressed, looking down in shame. 

He was only sorry because Alicent found out. Had it not been for her proposition to Rhaenyra, his mother would have never found out.

She sneered, glaring at her son as Alicent abruptly recalled a quote from a book about motherhood she read as a young girl. It stated how deeply a mother’s love for their child went. It was like nothing else and knew no law or pity. How its mere existence dares all things and remorselessly crushes down all that stood in its path.

Alicent could find evidence of herself in her children, no matter their Targaryen queerness or the silver hair and violet sparkle in their eyes. She saw herself in Helaena’s gently sloped nose, Aegon’s round and sleepless eyes, Aemond’s straight-backed bearing, and how his expressive brow always gave away his genuine emotions.

On the worst of days, she reminded herself that she left a legacy—that Viserys didn’t devour every evidence of her girlhood with his cursed blood. She clung to these shards of herself, reflected at her from her children, and it felt like trying to pick up splinters of colored glass from a broken Sept window with her delicate fingers.

The Queen loved Aegon but could not do so as she did for Helaena, Aemond, Daeron, and you. She would drink poison for her eldest but couldn’t embrace him. Alicent would step into dragon fire for him yet refused to say the words he desperately longed to hear. She tried to tell Aegon that she would love him no matter what he did, that he could not stop her from doing so, but the confession refused to roll off her tongue.

“You are no son of mine,” she declared, inhaling a shuddering breath. There was nothing more for her to say, and she left her son, whimpering and sniveling in the confines of his bedroom. 

Aegon stood alone in the dimly lit chamber, his eyes fixated on seeing his mother’s departure. Overwhelming agony and disgrace filled his being, and he found himself utterly wounded beyond words. It cut him deeply to the core that the person who was meant to love and protect him unconditionally could cause him such anguish. He couldn’t fathom how the one stable relationship he had hoped for in a tumultuous life had turned out to be the source of his deepest pain. It seemed as though his mother’s love was limited, only granted to those who could fulfill her expectations.

It seemed as if taking the place of his mother’s favorite wasn’t enough. Aemond also had to take his only true friend. 

Aegon concluded that Aemond must have made the situation far worse than it was in an attempt to direct Alicent’s wrath onto him. No doubt his younger brother did something to displease her. Without Aemond’s interruption, none of this would have happened. His mother wouldn’t be upset with him, Aegon would still have his pride, and you would still be his friend. After all, you were his first.

You were not naive. You comprehended why your mother chose to depart from the Red Keep, and you felt responsible for it all. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the idea of residing on Dragonstone. In the summer, it was a magnificent place. Aegon the Conqueror’s garden was a breathtaking sight that could rival the Keeps, and the perpetual breeze that swept across the island made the high temperatures quite bearable. Nevertheless, you were apprehensive about living there.

It wasn’t your home. 

You were born and grew up here, surrounded by companions and starting a new beginning with your Uncle Aemond. The Keep was all you knew, but it wasn’t all joyful memories. You often faced relentless teasing from your uncles for not having Valyrian features and simply because you were a girl. Despite the challenges, you wanted things to stay the same, even after what Aegon did. When your mother revealed important news during supper, you didn’t complain about your shared feelings, unlike your brothers. 

As the sun dipped below the western horizon, casting a warm yellow-orange glow across the sky, your mother gently reassured you that Aegon would never trouble you again as she tucked you snugly into bed. Rhaenyra, taking no chances, commissioned the palace locksmith to forge a sturdy iron bolt for the tunnel door and generously compensated him for his secrecy. She doubled the guard outside your chambers also to further ensure your safety. 

Knowing that your eldest uncle could not breach your defenses brought you immense relief, finally allowing you to rest your head. However, that sense of peace shattered as you awoke suddenly, a flutter of anxiety gripping your chest.

Your mother arranged to leave King’s Landing within a fortnight, and with your guards becoming more of a presence than before, you worried when you would see Aemond to tell him goodbye. Your mother had expressed her displeasure at you spending time with any of the Queen’s children, and you didn’t want him to think you abandoned him. 

Laying in your soft bed, surrounded by your plush pillows and fluffy duvet, you tossed and turned, battling the idea of if you should do what started this in the first place and sneak through the tunnels of Maegor’s Holdfast. You were scared about becoming lost in the vast passages, but you inhaled an encouraging breath and threw your covers off. A shiver ran through your body, whether from the sudden lack of warmth or anxiety; you were unsure as you snatched the lit candle from your bedside table. 

You planned to go into the first door you saw and take yourself from there, which proved problematic when it didn’t budge, no matter how hard you pushed. It sent a surge of panic into your soul as you glanced around the dark hallways, the sounds of rats squeaking and water dripping adding to the storm of fear that formed. You felt helpless, afraid that from the blackness, a monster would emerge and devour you whole, leaving nothing but bones for your parents to find. 

Exhale. Inhale.

The steady breathing of your lungs calmed your nerves enough to think clearly. All you needed to do was find the next exit. Eventually, the tunnels would end. 

As you went to step forward, a rock rolled under your shoe, causing you to stumble briefly before an idea came to mind. You recalled days when you spent outside with Helaena or your brothers drawing on the stone walkways of the Keep, creating pictures of your family, dragons, and all sorts of animals before they were washed away by rain. There was no rain in here. You could use it to mark your path and retrace your steps if lost. 

Dragging the stone along the walls created a line lighter than the rock as you felt it vibrate along uneven surfaces. Finally, you found another door. You moved the indentation with the shove of your shoulder, and it opened, revealing a dark room lit by only the silver moon glow shining through the windows. 

You realized it was the library as you saw the towers of bookcases lining the room and felt a surge of victory. Quickly, you scribbled the word onto the passage wall as you shut the portal, a painting depicting a fierce battle between men and dragons hanging on it. You could navigate yourself from here and stealthily walk the torchlit corridors of the Red Keep until you find Aemond’s quarters and enter as you did before. 

He wasn’t startled this time and only sleeplessly turned on his side to face you, opening his covers, which you crawled in greedily. You stuck yourself to Aemond’s side, pinning his arm uncomfortably between your bodies until he unwedged it with a sigh and put it under your neck. You were silent for a long moment with your hands tucked near your chin, unsure how to tell him you were leaving.

Aemond realized as he stared at the top of his canopy bed, violet eyes focused on the fabric that swirled in the night. The more he got to know you, the more your presence stopped irritating him. He liked that you respected his boundaries despite having different ones. You knew that Aemond preferred silence and hated it when someone took his things or disrupted whatever plans he made for the day, which was why he was so affronted when you decided to make a regular appearance in his life. 

“My mother is taking us to Dragonstone,” you blurted, unable to express yourself otherwise. 

Aemond blinked at you in the darkness and unhurriedly turned, his brows arched. “For how long?” he questioned. 

“I’m not sure,” you softly soughed, gazing downcast. “I think forever. Mother doesn’t think we’re safe after what Aegon did and the rumors that we’re…” You couldn’t finish your thought. It was as if the word bastard was something you could not say aloud. 

Aemond knew what you meant and pursed his thin lips as resentment swirled in his stomach. It felt like he couldn’t have anything that made him happy. Born without a dragon, he was forced to be the odd one out, and now he was losing the only person his age who seemed to care for him. Something or someone would permanently ruin his happiness. In this case, it was his brother. Hatred burned in his heart for Aegon. 

“I don’t think Mama will allow me to visit the Keep. She doesn’t want us to be around Queen Alicent or any of you,” you sullenly confided, melancholy tugging your eyes. “A part of me wants to leave because of Aegon, but the other wants to stay with you.” 

“I don’t need you to be my friend. I don’t need your pity,” Aemond barked, causing you to flinch. It was the only way he knew to be when he was uncomfortable with the notion of vulnerability. 

You sighed, squirming closer to him and putting your palm on his chest. “I don’t feel bad for you, Aemond. You’re my only friend besides my brothers. Why would I want to leave you behind?” 

He didn’t know how to respond, unused to someone other than his mother speaking with candid emotions. 

“I enjoy spending time with you, uncle. You’re the first person I told that I wanted to be like Nymeria and find my Mors Martell,” you confessed, playing with the fabric of his nightshirt between your fingers. He didn’t know why the idea that you needed to find your prince consort vexed him. 

“We all must make sacrifices for family,” Aemond stiffly explained. 

You could only get Aemond to offer you comfort by explicitly telling him. He was locked within his mind’s fortress, refusing to let anything or anyone in. 

“When Gaelithox is big enough, I’ll ride him and visit you. I promised that we would fly together.” Aemond’s purple orbs flicked to you at the reminder of your oath, and after a long stretch of speechlessness, he took your hand. 

“Very well,” he nodded, and you nestled closer to your uncle, resting your temple in the crook of his neck. That was good enough for you. You could rest easy now, but your uncle’s mind still whirred, stuck on one thought. 

“Do you think you’ll ever find your Mors Martell?” he asked, stirring you from your slumber. “I heard my mother talking one day, and she said that there was no place for a woman to have expectations for her husband. She must accept whatever match her father deems necessary.”

You hushed for a long moment, and Aemond thought you might have fallen asleep before you rose in your arms, looking down at him in the darkness. “I’m a Targaryen princess, not some regular noblewoman. My mother said I may choose who I want to marry, whether he be a knight, a dragon rider, or a second son—so long as he’s worthy.”

Seeing the hesitancy in his gaze, his silver-blonde hair loose and draped over the green satin pillows, you leaned down, bestowing a short yet sweet kiss to the top of his sun-spotted nose with a grin. He lay there, shocked, unable to speak or move, his cheeks blooming a vibrant pink that you could see in the darkness as you lay back down, feeling satisfied in your gut. 

“All I ask of him is that he has a good heart, cares for me as I do him, is someone with whom I can trust my secrets, and protects me from my enemies. That is the type of man who’s worthy. Dragon or not, it doesn’t matter,” you sighed contentedly, feeling the claws of sleep overtake you.

You stirred with a blink when Aemond’s hand rose slowly and tentatively touched your cheek, your brown eyes wide and glimmering in the moonlight. He swallowed hard, feeling how pleasant, soft, and warm your skin felt under his fingers.  He pressed his forehead against yours, feeling your breath quicken. Your uncle was hesitant about expressing what he wanted so as not to frighten you. Aegon was experienced with this sort of thing, not Aemond, and understood that you would see him the same way if he went about it like his brother did. 

As unworthy. 

A monster.

As he leaned in closer, he gently ran his thumb across your skin, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers traced the curve of your neck, causing your breath to catch in your throat. Even in the dimly lit room, he could feel the heat of your blush.

“May I?” he asked, voice mumbled as you nodded quickly, a giddy feeling in your heart.

You gently traced your fingers along his chiseled jawline, savoring the unfamiliar intimacy of Aemond’s proximity. It sent a surge of warmth through his stomach, and his heart raced as he tenderly cupped your cheek in his hand. 

When your uncle’s lips finally pressed against yours, he was surprised by how soft and moist they were, pulling swiftly in slight embarrassment with a noiseless click of flesh. He turned away with hot ears and abruptly shut his eyes, feeling like he was about to die simultaneously from bashfulness and excitement.

“Let us sleep,” he tenderly ordered, settling back into his former position. It was too much emotion for one time, and you didn’t want to push him further. Aemond felt ashamed that he was sharing the same bed as his bastard niece, yet her presence had a calming effect on him.

You answered nothing, settling beside him like before as he put his arms around you, sending a flutter in your heart. It was his first kiss, just like yours, and for the first time in many years, he felt proud, fulfilled, happy, and worthy. For the time being, he didn’t worry about what a life without you and your brothers meant for him, focused only on your comforting warmth and scent that reminded him of a cool, bright summer day as you both fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Masterlist of Series

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I hope y'all enjoyed that last scene because it'll be the last sweet one for a long time! XD

Bedwetting, refusing to take baths/showers, and uncontrollable bladder and bowel movements are all common signs of childhood SA. I didn't add that scene in there just for the shock factor. While I didn't experience those symptoms, they are textbook signs.

Some of you shared your experiences in the comments and said what happened to the OC was validating. I wanted to give y'all a public thank you for sharing your experiences even when you didn't have to, and FUCK YOU to whoever did those things to you. Still, there are so many different ways people react to trauma that there isn't a "right" or "acceptable" way to cope with it. Just remember to get professional help if you're able and find ways to channel those feelings that will benefit you positively. It's a lifelong process that can be exhausting at times, but what I like to tell myself (even if it's morbid) is that if I'm dead, then I can't be anything, and if I'm not anything, then the wrong that person did to me is nothing. I don't recommend that line of thinking to everyone, tho. XD

Thank you again for reading!

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp , @britt-mf , @marvelescvpe , @haikyuusboringassmanager , @discofairysworld , @lottiemsgf, @nessjo , @fiction-fanfic-reader , @qvnthesia , @hotvillianapologist , @p45510n4f4shi0n, @theendlessvoidofdarkest , @readerselegance , @gothamgurl2024, @aleemendoza2425-blog

[periwinkla]

How Takumi writes romance - and narumitsu thoughts

I feel the way he writes it is.... dare I say realistic? If dramatic. Which is also very realistic honestly. To be fair all AA characters are kinda.. dramatic themselves so any couple that comes from that HAS to be dramatic. Anyway the point I want to make is that I honestly LOVE the way he writes romance, like come on LOOK at the canon ones: -the Delites (crazy in love and also in general <- perfect AA couple example) -Maggey and Gumshoe (not a canonical couple per-se but canonically down bad for each other and also both kinda wild, one in a way the other in another.... it's left to interpretation whether they get together after AA3, but it is fairly hinted) -Mia and Diego (very realistic? love can be tragic, also love leads you to make bad choices sometimes) -that one wild tgaa couple (don't wanna spoil) -actually multiple tgaa couples This is unironically peak romance to me. We never see the actual development of these couples here. Takumi shows they love each other, he doesn't simply tell you by making characters confess or have cute moments together. You see them do foolish things for each other, you see them care. You see them being illogical and that leads to them doing bad, messed up things sometimes. When I think about that one discussion going around Suekane telling Takumi he wasn't writing the narumitsu scene right so he better scrap the scene (which is honestly a bit of an ambiguous info to be taken with a pinch of salt imo, but let's analyze this anyway) I think the main problem is that that's just not how he writes. It's just not! He didn't write AA that way and it shouldn't be forced like that. It would feel out of place. Like, look at this (obviously just trilogy stuff because that's what Takumi wrote): -Miles' very odd conversation with Iris -generally every poetics Miles spews in the trilogy... -his agreeing to doing something so incredibly foolish at the drop of a hat such as donning a defense attorney badge? (after an harrowing hurried flight over in the middle of the night) He even suspends his disbelief and still resorts to using an artifact that reminds him of the ugliest event of his life? -Phoenix's depression after Miles disappears...? He already wasn't accepting any clients after 1-4 (Ema had to force him) which I think was a mix of things (Mia's death, Maya's departure, the fact that he had accomplished his goal with Miles but apparently they didn't keep in touch?) but then after Miles' note it just went even worse - if Maya wasn't there to basically drag him around, what would have happened? How was he paying rent? Groceries? He wasn't working. How was he planning to continue living exactly? -Phoenix's I-am-the-only-one-who-can-save-him obsession is similar to Godot's I-blame-myself-for-not-saving-her, who has it over someone he canonically loves... and they're both very pretentious about it as well. While these are definitely character flaws, they show as I said that love doesn't always lead to logical and healthy thoughts or choices and sometimes it leads to you doing very messed up things… This is all way more telling to me. And of course I don't believe in a million years the games will ever make it a canonical couple, but in my heart they care so much for the other that all I can discern from this is that at least they canonically love each other. Was it meant to come across that way? Who knows. But sometimes your own creation gets away from you (also it's not like Takumi made AA123 all by himself, other people were involved).

[heavenlyvision]

Bare

Word count: 9.3k

Pairing: Liu Kang x F!Reader

A/N: This is a bit different to my other works so far, at least it feels different! I am stoked about the people who encouraged me to write this!! You guys have been the kindest to interact with and really encourage me to keep writing <33 (P.S. If you're having trouble picturing the position in the smut scene, it’s pretty close to the full nelson, hopefully you can picture it with just my description though 😅😅)

Summary:  Through a series of unfortunate events, you find yourself befriending a God and making his life more difficult, it’s just a bonus that he’s friendly, kind, and really hot.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, fingering, grinding, p in v sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, dirty talk, Liu Kang might be a little ooc and I am sorry but he’s hot and I had to write for him.

Living in the temple with Liu Kang is an odd feeling, you’ve been here for a while now, but you still feel out of place. Maybe because there isn’t any real reason that you’re here, you know he has plans and is a Fire God and something about a tournament with another realm, but you don’t fit in to any of that. You’re just some person he felt bad for after making friends with and is now allowing you to stay in his temple????

To be fair, he didn’t really befriend you, he asked if you were okay and then you held him verbally hostage. He looked friendly and so you started talking to him, something you would usually be too reserved to do. Having conversations with strangers isn’t something you’re in the habit of, and you especially don’t start them, but you’d had a series of unfortunate events happen to you in the course of a week and he looked nice. You think he was too polite to ask you to stop talking to him, but he eventually engaged in the conversation.

It was a little cafe not far from where you used to live, Liu Kang had been there by chance, he tells you now that there was something he had to take care of in that area, but he kept coming back after that first encounter. Every time you were there, he was also there, and he listened to you.

When you first met and spoke with Liu Kang you complained about how your partner broke up with you but actually he was cheating on you and had been for months, so you had to leave his apartment, which was originally yours before you were both on the lease. But you didn’t leave by choice, he locked you out and left your stuff in front of the building, which obviously, some of it was missing.

Whether he kept it or if some of it was taken by strangers you aren’t sure, but it sucks either way, you didn’t tell Liu Kang that last thing at the time though. Being kicked out of your own apartment and cheated on was embarrassing enough, he didn’t need to know you were also robbed.  

While visiting that café everyday hoping to see Liu Kang, your personal circumstances kept getting worse, you didn’t keep bombarding him with your issues though. He was nice and funny in a polite way, and he was becoming a friend to you. So, you didn’t say anything to him but the friend you had been staying with turned out to be who your partner was cheating on you with, so you had to rush to find another place to stay, which you managed. And things would’ve been okay from there if you hadn’t lost your job due to cutbacks in that same week, so not only were you living off your quickly depleting savings, you were also trying to find a job, while living in a shitty, tiny apartment, an apartment where, if you had all your furniture, you wouldn’t be able to see the floor.

The only thing you looked forward to were the afternoons in that café talking to and getting to know Liu Kang. It was unfortunate luck when your ex-friend and ex-partner walked in and saw you talking with him. They didn’t mind their own business, and that was how Liu Kang had found out how much worse things had gotten for you in the few months you had been meeting with him.

After he learned about the extent of things he brought up living with him at the temple, he said it would be more for him than for you, claiming to need help and that you were perfect for it. But you knew he didn’t really need any help; he’s a literal God and you’re just a person. So, you kept declining, he’d bring it up once a month and you would tell him no every month, determined to make things work for yourself.

But eventually, you were fed up with all the dead-end jobs and being dismissed after only a few weeks, you were looking down the barrel of eviction and you caved, asking Liu Kang for help. Something he was more than happy to provide.

It felt odd, making friends with a stranger, only to find out he was a God and then that God feeling so bad for you that he offers to make your life easier by letting you live with him at his temple. You can’t help but feel pitiful about giving up all your responsibilities and running away but there wasn’t anything left for you in that city.

Staying by Liu Kang’s side has introduced you to so much beauty, it’s expanded your small world, and you don’t feel even a little bit of regret for leaving, not anymore. Though you still feel out of place, your heart is at peace.

Currently, you’re drinking tea with Liu Kang, it’s something you two do every afternoon and it reminds you of the café. Even though he’s busy, he always has tea with you, every afternoon.

Conversing with him always starts the same way, you say something completely random or make an observation and he sighs at your inability to sit in silence for more than a minute at a time.

“You know, I think he still has my favourite book.” You say in reference to your ex.

There’s a book you owned, and it was a classic, not worth anything, but you had annotated it to high hell and the love you have for it is shown in your scribblings and all the sticky notes. It’s something you immediately noticed was missing but never said anything about.

He has a confused look on his face, “What? Why didn’t you ask for it back?”

“He’d just say that I lost it, or that it got stolen when he left my boxes outside the apartment,” You shrug at him.

“He… left your belongings… outside of the apartment, where strangers could rifle through them… and steal from you?” He questions, his tone is calm but the pauses in his sentence display contempt.

“Did I not tell you that?” You wonder.

He’s looking at you, eyes squinting, scrutinising you and trying to determine if you were purposefully keeping that from him, “No… you have not mentioned it.”

In all honesty, you thought you had already told him that. You aren’t trying to hide it anymore, it’s already done. You just feel a bit sad about your favourite book, you’ve been wanting to reread it lately and you like reading the notes you’ve made previously as you do.

“I was just thinking about the book, it was annotated,” you sigh.

“I can take you to go get it, if you’d like?” He offers.

“He probably won’t even admit to having it, let alone give it back but thank you.” You offer him a smile, he’s always so kind to you, a gentle God.

He considers you for a moment, “I have some books, if you’d like to read them.”

“I found your library months ago, read a bunch of them but it isn’t the same.” You appreciate his suggestion, but other books can’t compare.

He sips at his tea, before saying, “You’re picky.”

“No, it’s just that I cultivated that book with all my thoughts and feelings on the story and now it’s gone,” you huff out.

Liu Kang frowns a bit, thinking about your words, “I do not like him.”

“Neither,” you laugh, “You know, he wasn’t even worth it, never made me org–” you stop abruptly, realising what you were about to say… to a God, “Uhm what I actually mean is, he was a… bad partner, not… attentive?” It comes out like a question, but you aren’t asking anything.

He chuckles and shakes his head at you; he always seems to find you amusing, “That’s a shame,” he mutters.

You want to question him on what he means but he speaks again, “Why did you stay with him?”

“After a while, I felt… trapped,” you sigh, “He was kinder in the beginning of our relationship, but he grew colder, meaner, he didn’t talk to me… he didn’t like talking to me, always saying I talk too much,” you give him a wry smile.

He hums, “I like listening to you.”

You feel flush at his words, he does this sometimes, says something innocuous without realising how the kind words have you falling for him. But, it’s a feeling you don’t let yourself indulge in, for a number of reasons but mostly because you feel unremarkable compared to him. You feel small and your feelings feel unimportant, so you don’t entertain them, not wanting them to grow stronger with nowhere to put them down. He makes it hard though.

“I like talking to you,” you reply.

Relationships aren’t something you’ve had much success in, your only one that lasted longer than a couple weeks being the one where you lost your apartment, belongings, friend, etc etc.

“I sometimes wonder if he ever loved me,” you confess to Liu Kang.

You stayed out of obligation and convenience, leaving was too much effort, but why did he stay for so long, only to do what he did. Sometimes you feel sick thinking about it, because if he never showed you love then what does it look like? And are you capable of recognising it in someone else? In yourself?

He puts a hand on your shoulder, “I can hear you thinking from here, stop it.”

“You can hear thoughts??” You’re a little worried as you say it.

He restrains himself from rolling his eyes at you, “Not what I meant; I cannot actually hear your thoughts.”

“Oh thank god, don’t say things like that.” You place a hand over your beating heart.

“Why would I be able to read minds?” He queries.

“I dunno, you’re a God, you can’t say stuff like that, I’ll take you literally,”

He hums, “Noted.”

Both of you sit in the silence, normally you would say something else but for once you’re a little lost for words. Still wondering if you’ve ever been loved, properly. An ache fills your heart, and you aren’t really sure what it means.

Liu Kang’s grip squeezes on your shoulder, drawing your attention back to him, “If he never loved you, then he is a fool.”

And there it is again, something meant as comfort said so tenderly to you that your heart feels like it might implode.

“Thank you,” you say, hand coming up to rest on top of his.

He looks deep in thought for a moment, “I think you should learn self-defence.”

It’s abrupt, the way he brings it up, you pull your hand away and turn so you’re facing him properly, “Why?”

“I think I would feel better about you being a part of this world, if you could defend yourself.”

You consider his words, your lips pouting in thought, “I’d rather not.”

His response is to frown at you, “Why not?”

“I’d rather not, just ‘cause I don’t wanna have strangers train me or whatever, don’t like the idea of being touched by them,” you say it flippantly, waving a hand as you do.

You know he would want to take you to that academy or have someone specifically train you, but you aren’t fond of strangers, and you especially don’t like the idea of their hands positioning you and such, it’s a very uncomfortable idea.

Your face must be betraying how much you dislike the idea, “Stop making that face,” Liu Kang sighs.

“Sorry,” your face drops into a neutral expression, you hadn’t realised you were making one.

“Things are going to pick up soon, I would feel better if you’d consider it.”

You frown again, this time on purpose.

He looks into your eyes, it feels like he’s trying to stare you down, “That won’t work, I don’t like being touched,” you remark.

He raises a brow at you, “You let me touch you.”

You look away from him and mumble, “That’s different.”

“How?” He inquires.

How nosey of him, “It just is…” you shrug at him.

“What if I teach you self-defence?”

You look back to him, “Maybe.”

If you had a choice, you’d rather not be taught any kind of self-defence, but you guess if it’s Liu Kang teaching you, you could be amicable to that, eventually.

Both his brows raise, “Are you going to make this difficult for me?”

You repeat your previous answer, sly smile on your lips, “Maybe…”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It’s been almost a full week since that conversation with Liu Kang, you keep putting off training with him. He’s a patient man but you think you’re slowly chipping away at it. His concern for you growing the more you put it off.

You understand that things will be changing soon, with his champions and what not, but he keeps you fairly separate from all that anyways. You know of the Lin Kuei and their involvement, along with the brothers but you’ve not met them, and he’s not asked you to. So, you aren’t really sure why he’s become so caught up on getting you some kind of training.

It’s late in the evening and you’re walking to the library, which maybe you shouldn’t be, but you feel the need to read something. Get your mind off of everything that’s been happening. Maybe you’ll find a new favourite book and annotate that.

But because you have the luck of someone who’s broken a mirror every day, it starts bucketing down rain. Usually, you enjoy rainy weather and a good book, but this isn’t that. You’re walking the temple grounds one minute and the next you’re fully drenched, down to the bone. Clothes soggy, shoes filled with water, and to top it off, the torrential downpour is making your visibility awful. You can’t make heads or tails with all this rain; it would probably be just as bad even if it wasn’t dark out.

Just your luck, there isn’t much you can do but stumble blindly through the grounds, hoping you’re going the right way. But predictably, that is not a good idea, you’re about as wet as a person can be, shaking from the cold breeze, you need to find shelter somewhere soon.

Some of the buildings are recognisable, you think? You can’t really be sure, but you think you recognise the building Liu Kang resides in. Hobbling up to the door, you knock on it, hoping that some higher power takes pity on you and that Liu Kang is home… and also awake.

And wouldn’t you know it, he’s not home, the only solution you can think of is to sit under the small shelter surrounding the building, to at least prevent yourself from getting any more wet, not that that’s even possible at this point.

The rain doesn’t stop, the rate at which it’s coming unchanging. Spending all night here is not a feasible option, sadly, you will have to move again and hope you find your own quarters or somewhere open you can tuck into. It’d be embarrassing to sleep on Liu Kang’s doorstep only for him to trip over you in the morning.

You decide to try knocking one last time, maybe he didn’t hear you. Wrapping your knuckles against his front door, you knock harder, wishing for him to be home and that your first knocks went unheard.

Waiting a moment before you give up, he’s obviously out doing some God business or whatever, you don’t really question his movements. Turning your back to his door, you look out at the rain, working yourself up to going back out into it.

Just as you step out into it again, you feel a hand grab your upper arm and pull you back, bending your head back to look up, you realise it’s Liu Kang and a relived smile breaks out across your face. You turn around to face him properly and he lets go of your arm.

The look on his face is one of complete confusion, “What are you doing out in this rain?”

“I was looking for the library but then it started raining… and I got lost but I recognised your building, and I knocked a couple times, but I thought you were out, so I was gonna look for somewhere else to try and get warm.” You’re shaking like a leaf in front of him, teeth chattering as you talk.

He frowns at you and grabs you again, pulling you inside. The escape from the unforgiving wind is very welcome to you.

“Why were you out this late to begin with?” His eyes are firm as he looks at you.

You look away from him, feeling like you’re being scolded, “I… wanted to read a book… can’t stop thinking and I can’t sleep.”

You’re standing in front of him and staring at the floor below you, still shivering involuntarily, a puddle of water being created on the wood, “Do you have a towel, your floors getting wet.” Your head nodding downwards to the puddle.

“I am not worried about my floors,” he sighs, “Come with me.”

You shuffle down the hall after him, you feel like a wet cat who got caught outside when they’re meant to be inside. There’s a trail of water droplets trailing after you, you feel bad getting his floors all wet, you’ll have to remember to clean up for him.

Following behind, you properly look at him and notice his upper half is bare, only in pants for bed, you can’t help but stare at his large frame and muscular back. It’s a very human display, for him to be shirtless and in sleep pants, his hair down, he looks good, but he always looks good. You feel like a silly mess.

He leads you into his bathroom and hands you a clean towel, “Have a shower, get warm.”

You stand there looking at him for a moment, “What will I wear?”

Liu Kang walks past you and further down the hall, you briefly wonder if you’re meant to follow him or start showering. You decide to pull off your jacket and slip out of your shoes while waiting.

His footsteps are coming back towards you, “Here,” he offers you some of his clothes.

You think about whether the shirt would even close, he’s always wearing shirts that show his chest and they don’t exactly look like they’d offer you any modesty, even if you do it up. You unfold the shirt and you’re thankful to see it will, in fact cover you.

“Something wrong?” He asks.

Shaking your head at him, you say, “No, I was just wondering if you gave me one of those shirts that doesn’t actually close properly.”

He sighs at you, “Have a shower, then we will talk.”

You drop the shirt down from in front of you to look at him but he’s already walking away and shutting the door behind him.

The showers heat is what you imagine heaven feels like, or maybe getting really high. Muscles that you hadn’t even realised were tensed finally relax and you feel like you could melt into a puddle on the shower floor. You hadn’t noticed just how cold you were, if you had stayed out all night you might’ve actually turned into a popsicle.

After you’ve washed and dried yourself off, you look at Liu Kang’s clothes, he gave you pants but you’re worried they won’t fit. Which is troublesome because you can’t put on your wet underwear, not unless you wanna squirm in place all evening.

Closing your eyes, you huff out a sigh, considering your options. Telling him that you have no underwear is a mortifying thought. So, you pull his shirt on and do up the buttons, it comes down pretty far on your body, which shouldn’t be shocking; he is a large man but seeing it come more than halfway down your thighs makes you remember the size difference.

Considering how far it comes down on you, you wonder if you even have to say anything. You decide it might be better not to say anything, the risk of whatever conversation would ensue undoubtedly would embarrass you to death.

Which, before you met Liu Kang, you never really got all that embarrassed but the effect he has on you makes you feel self-conscious of all your choices and little mannerisms.

Padding down his hallway, you meet him in his living area, he’s sitting on his lounge. Rounding it, you hold onto the hem of his shirt, you feel nervous; like he’s about to give you the ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’ talk. It always worked on you as a kid, it’d probably work now too.

When he looks up to you, his eyes skate up your body slowly before he meets your gaze, “What’s wrong with the pants?”

“Don’t fit,” you mumble.

He nods at you, and you go to sit next to him.

“You smell like me,” he notes.

You had noticed that, his scent is overwhelming you, making you feel warm.

You change the subject, “Thank you, for the shirt and shower... and for letting me in.”

He looks concerned, “Why would I not let you in?”

You shrug at him, you aren’t really sure why you said it, maybe it’s the being locked out of your own apartment memories haunting you again. You fidget in your seat a bit, uncomfortable from both not wearing underwear and this conversation.

You change the subject, “Do you have a mop or another towel, I can dry your floors.”

He shakes his head at you, “You do not need to do that, I’ve already done it.”

He readjusts his position, moving to the side, one leg crossed on the couch and an arm coming up to rest on the back of the couch. He’s facing you completely now, you’re sitting forward with your knees touching, looking into your lap and toying with the hem of his shirt, conscious of the fact you aren’t wearing underwear.

“I would have done it,” you mutter.

“I know, that is why I did it first.”

You don’t say anything, which is out of character and it’s starting to concern Liu Kang.

“What were you going to do tonight? If I hadn’t answered my door,” he questions you, his tone concerned.

Your lips pout and you look away to the side, staring at his now very interesting wall.

“I dunno, I mean, I was planning to go back out and try and find my place or somewhere else warm at least, I wasn’t just gonna sit on your doorstep all night,” you shrug, still not facing him.

The couch cushions move as he shuffles a little closer, “That would have been reckless, your lips were almost blue before, you need to have more concern for your wellbeing.”

“I care about myself,” you turn to look at him, he had moved closer than you expected, you stumble over yourself a bit at his proximity, “…I do care, I didn’t know what to do and I made the best choice in that moment, it’s not like I wanted to go back into the rain… I knocked again… just in case you didn’t hear the first time…”

He looks at you intensely, it’s making you nervous and you look away from him, eyes turning downwards to your lap again, legs rubbing against each other as you continue to squirm.

“Look at me,” he says gently, you turn your head to look at him properly, he continues, “I am so aware of how human you are, and I worry about your safety because of it, you do not inspire confidence in me when you do stuff like this.”

“I think you’re taking this too seriously; I didn’t know it was going to rain and–”

“–That is not my only concern,” he gives you a pointed look.

“And we are back on this?” You ask.

He nods in response.

A deep sigh is pushed out of you, “You know, you are quite persistent… pushy even.”

“If you give in now, it would save us a lot of time,” he replies, making his stance clear, this is not something he is willing to compromise on. At least, not any more than he already has.

“I don’t understand why you want me to do this so bad? You’ve kept me separate from everything so far, so why would I need any kind of training?”

“For my peace of mind,” he says, rather abruptly.

Taking a deep breath in you let it all out at once, “You really aren’t going to let this go?” You ask, double checking.

“No,” he confirms.

“Then… I suppose… I will allow you to train me,” you huff, you’d cross your arms, but you’re worried about his shirt riding up your thighs.

He lets out a sigh of relief, “Thank you.”

You hum noncommittally, “This is such an unlucky night for me.”

He chuckles at you while getting up from the couch, “I am going to put some tea on, can you watch it?”

“Yeah,” you also get up from the couch and follow him to his kitchen.

Opening cupboards, he pulls out everything and puts the kettle on, then he wanders down the hallway leaving you to watch it. You don’t really know what he’s gone off to do, you’re a little peeved that you’ll have to be training for a possible threat, not even a tangible one. Plus you think he’s not telling you everything, but he seems to be a bit touchy right now, so you won’t push it.

Especially since you seem to be the reason why he’s being a bit short. But everything that happened tonight was just a series of unfortunate events, which at this point is par for the course for you. You don’t want to try and argue your case again though because, well, you were walking around an area you aren’t completely familiar with in the middle of the night, so you might be a little in the wrong.

Mindlessly, you watch the kettle, it feels a little ironic considering that old phrase, ‘a watched pot never boils’. From behind you, Liu Kang’s footsteps stop, you turn around to look at him.

“What were you doing?” You ask him, before you realise he’s holding all your wet clothes, including your underwear, the underwear that you are currently not wearing. Underwear that you should be wearing.

“What are you wearing underneath my shirt?” His gaze is even, unreadable.

“Uhm, well… like, r-right now?” You ask for clarification, your eyes wide.

“Yes, right now,” his tone is equally unreadable.

You suck on your teeth uncomfortably, “Well, right now… in this moment… I guess… nothing.”

“Right, thought so, considering I found these,” he holds out your underwear with one finger, showing them to you, “amongst all your other clothes.”

“Okayyyy, but you see…your pants didn’t fit and well, I didn’t want to put on wet underwear…” you avert your eyes from his, feeling exposed, “so, I decided, not to wear any…” You trail off, not really sure where to go from here.

He hums at you in understanding, “So, while I was telling you to care more for yourself…you were sitting on my couch, squirming because you chose to forgo underwear, is that right?”

You look upwards, feigning deep thought, “Mhm, pretty much, yeah…but I wouldn’t say I was squirming.”

“You were squirming, I thought it was because the conversation was uncomfortable.” He retorts.

“Well, it was…just in multiple ways,” you smile innocently at him, “Uhm, can I have those?”

“Are you going to put them on?” He asks.

You nod at him, “I was considering it, wearing wet panties has to feel better than this.”

His eyes close momentarily at your words, he intakes a breath. You feel ashamed to admit that this conversation is working you up, it would probably be for the best if you cover yourself properly.

Walking over to him you go to grab your underwear, but as you reach up to pluck them from his hand, he reaches further up. Not completely out of arm’s length but if you do reach up, you would be exposing yourself completely.

“That’s not nice,” you huff.

“It isn’t nice showing up on my doorstep just to get into my clothes and then sit on my couch with nothing underneath them.” His eyes are full of mirth.

“Can I just have my underwear…please?”

He pretends to be in deep thought, mimicking you from earlier, “Do you really want to put on wet underwear?”

“…Yes.” No. You don’t really want to, but not wearing underwear around someone who knows you aren’t wearing any is…horrifyingly revealing.

“So, you were fine not wearing any underwear when I didn’t know, but now you’d rather be uncomfortable in wet panties, instead of being bare?”

“You’re asking me too many questions,” you’re frowning at him, but he doesn’t seem to find it menacing, his eyes still playful.

“You normally enjoy talking,” he jests.

A scowl is pulling at you lips, “Liu can you please just,” you look away and huff, “give me my underwear,” you mumble it out.

“Is there a specific reason that you need them now?” His implication is heavy, and you are not admitting to anything, you’d sooner die.

Rolling your eyes at him, you grab your clothes from his other hand and walk over to his dining table. You place them over the back of his chairs, so they have the chance to dry.

He shows mercy and moves to you to give you your underwear. As you hold them you make a face of displeasure, they’re soaked still, and you really don’t want to put them on.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, brow raising.

“Nothing,” you lie.

He pushes, “Put them on then.”

This situation is too much for you, this side of Liu Kang paired with his bare skin is making you dizzy, your pussy getting wetter by the second. It’s incredibly embarrassing that, him knowing and teasing you for not wearing underwear, is making your skin hot and body yearn for him. Even more embarrassing that he seems to have some kind of inkling about your arousal for him.

“I will,” another lie, you are not putting these on.

“You know, your facial expressions are incredibly honest,” he observes.

You try your hand at a poker face and it has him smiling in response.

Giving in, you confess, “I don’t want to put them on, they’re too wet.”

His face is bright, pleased at his victory, “You are an odd person,” he teases.

You’re exasperated, “Can’t you just pretend to not know?”

“I can try.” He shrugs and gives you a sweet smile but it doesn’t feel sweet, not after what he just put you through.

You put your wet underwear on the chair next to your other clothes, preferably you would clean them but they’ll do for getting you back to your room tomorrow.

You huff past Liu Kang as you walk to sit on his couch again, still holding onto the hem of his shirt as you sit, not wanting it to ride up. Not willing to risk it, especially since he knows how bare you are underneath.

He makes the tea and brings it over to you, both of you sitting in silence. You can’t help but squirm a bit in your spot. Wanting to rub your thighs together for some kind of relief but that would be way too obvious. So, you try focusing on your tea, the flavours of it, the smell, the warmth.

But then your thoughts wander, and you’re thinking about Liu Kang’s arms, his chest, his tattoos, his hands, the playfulness in his voice, his eyes as he looked at you. The stern voice he used on you earlier, everything about him sets you alight, you huff in annoyance next to him.

You hear him sigh lightly beside you, “You’re squirming again.”

“No, I’m not,” a boldfaced lie.

“What’s wrong now?”

“Nothing,” you take another sip of your tea.

He grabs your mug from you, placing it on the table, “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t need help,” you scowl at him.

His expression is dubious and not believing you for a single second, “Come here,” he pats the couch between his spread thighs.

Your face is shocked, “What for?”

He rolls his eyes at you, “I was not born yesterday, do you want my help or not?”

You argue, “Still don’t need help.”

Both his brows drop, “You’re sitting there, bare and squirming on my couch.”

“You’re supposed to pretend not to know,” you comment.

“I can only ignore so much,” he retorts.

You look at him for a bit, his expression unchanging, seemingly steadfast.

“How are you going to help?” You’re curious now.

“Find out,” he pats the couch again.

Looking upwards and away from him, you consider it for a bit, this might not be a great idea but he’s really hot and offering to help you, so against your better judgement you move over to him and sit between his spread legs. He moves forward, chest pressed to your back, his lips right by your ear.

“Can I touch you?” He checks with you.

“…Yes, please.”

He hums in response, his hand sliding down your body, resting atop one of your thighs.

Tapping it, he says, “Open your legs.”

Your skin feels hot but you listen and open them, the outside of your thighs touching the inside of his.

“Perfect,” he mumbles beside your head.

His hand slides down, caressing your inner thigh now, his other arm is wrapped around your torso, keeping you still. The hand on your thigh slowly inching closer to where you need him most, it feels like everything he’s doing is taking a million years. He’s taking his time to tenderly touch you, working you up more than you already are.

Your own hands come up to the one wrapped around you, holding onto his forearm, “Can you just… touch me please?” You ask him, voice the slightest bit breathless.

“In a moment,” his hand moves further away from your aching heat, instead tickling up the length of your inner thigh.

Your body feels like you’re about to vibrate out of your skin, his barely there touch turning your brain into mush. Slowly, his hand travels back up your thigh, and he cups your pussy, his two middle fingers slipping between your folds.

His chest rumbles with a groan behind you, “How long have you been this wet?”

You turn your head away from him and to the side, trying to avoid his words in your ear. It doesn’t work, if anything he can get closer, his head leaning down and breathing hot air onto your ear. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine in response, your teeth biting into your lower lip to supress the small sound you almost make.

“Probably when I confronted you, right?” He hits the nail on the head.

His fingers keep running through your folds, spreading your slick all over your pussy, the tip of his middle finger pressing into you the slightest bit, you cant your hips in response and he pulls away, instead repeating his previous motions of rubbing his fingers through your folds. His teasing pulling a huff from you.

“You know how I know?” he probes.

You shake your head at him, you’re a little bit curious as to what gave you away.

“I know because you are so honest, your facial expression, your movements, your eyes,” he practically purrs in your ear.

You shuffle against him, whether to get him closer or get yourself free, you aren’t sure but he holds you still against him. His fingers making a mess of your pussy, he moves them to your clit, giving you only the slightest amount of pressure. It has your hips rising to chase the sensation, wanting his fingers to be firmer. The arm around your torso pulls you back to him, holding you steady.

“You’re still squirming,” he comments.

“It’s –hah– your fault,” you quip.

“Mmm, is that so?” He wonders out loud.

Finally, he adds more pressure to your clit, the stimulation almost knocking the wind out of you, a small whimper falling from your lips involuntarily. Liu Kang hums appreciatively at your reaction to his touch. His nose runs up the length of your neck, tickling you.

“You seem to enjoy being touched right now,” he breathes the words against your neck.

He rubs circles into your clit, firm and even, never picking up or slowing down. Your hips wriggle against him, you want more, want him inside you.

A breath of air is pushed out his nostrils, amused at your movements, “Need something?” He’s still holding you firm, “If you do, you need to ask.”

“Want you to touch me,” you request.

Tone serious but his words have humour behind them, “I am touching you.”

“Want your finger, inside,” you whine at him, hating how desperate you must look and sound. No man ever having pulled you apart with such minimal contact but he isn’t just a man, is he?

His chest vibrates under you, his fingers slipping down to your pussy hole, middle finger pressing into you slowly. His large finger a stretch for you, his thumb rubs at your clit, trying to coax you into relaxing enough to take it.

“I don’t think you could be any tighter,” he murmurs to you.

Your hips are wanting to wiggle down onto his finger but you’re being held in place, when he does get his finger fully inside you, it has you instinctually trying to close your legs. Liu Kang tsks at you in disappointment, the hand around you briefly moving to place your legs over tops of his. You’re completely spread on him, the crook of your knees resting over top of his legs.

“This is embarrassing,” you mutter.

His hand moves back to hold you around your middle again, “You won’t mind soon.”

This man is going to be the death of you.

The finger inside you crooks up, stroking at your inner walls, the pleasure has your body writhing in his hold again. He pulls you back into his chest further and looks over your shoulder, down to where his finger is seated inside you. As his finger draws back from you, wet sounds follow the movement, and when he pushes it back inside, your cunt clamps down on it; a gasp jumping out of your throat.

He fucks his one finger into you continuously, your slick dripping from you, hips jumping against him. Eventually, you want more, want to feel fuller.

You pant out, “More, Liu – hah.”

He obeys, pressing his ring finger into you, his pace slowing to make up for the stretch, the small amount of pain not enough to bother you, your arousal outweighing it. Your hips grind down onto his fingers, taking the both of them deeper. His thumb rubs at your clit again as he fucks both his fingers into you, your head falls back against his shoulder, your eyes glazing over.

“Getting all fucked out on my fingers, that’s cute.” He observes.

His fingers are completely seated inside you; your hips grind into his hand. He allows you the small moment to rock your hips back and forth. Before he suddenly starts fucking them into you, pulling them out and slamming them back in, the tips of his fingers brushing something devastating. The feeling has your body shaking and whimpers falling from your lips, he hums in delight at your reaction and targets the one spot. Fucking his large fingers into it over and over again, wanting to have you falling apart for him.

Your insides start twisting in on themselves, panting breaths coming quicker, an odd feeling overwhelming you. You go to warn Liu Kang, “Feels weird.”

Liu Kang can feel your walls clenching down on his fingers, “It’s fine.”

You huff out at him, both from the feeling and his response.

“Poor girl, her ex-boyfriend didn’t only never get her to cum, she’s also never orgasmed before, mmm?” He questions, taunting.

If that’s what this is then you guess you really haven’t orgasmed before, you could’ve sworn you had but it never felt like this.

You gasp at his words, uncharacteristic of him and also really hot. Your brows knit together as his fingers keep moving inside you, his pace picking up slightly. The wet squelching of your wet cunt prominent in the otherwise quiet house.

“Stop fighting it love, just let it happen,” he whispers into the skin of your neck. He leaves wet kisses against it.

Your skin heats up in reaction to the pet name, your pussy spasming around his fingers, a whiny gasp of his name ripped from your chest. You go to keel forward but he holds you to him.

“There you go,” he purrs into your skin, “Doing so good, love.”

Your thighs are shaking on top of his, small whimpers leaving you as he continues fucking his fingers into you, prolonging your high. Aftershocks wracking your frame, jolting in his hold, slowly his fingers come to a stop, your head had dropped forward during your orgasm.

His unoccupied hand comes up to press against your forehead and pull your head back to his shoulder, you’re panting against him. Chest rising and falling quickly, your eyes unseeing for a few moments after.

When he pulls his fingers from you, he holds them up to marvel at them, admiring the way your cum has sticky strings falling from his fingers when he parts them.

“Look at that,” he says with the brightest tone, genuinely enamoured by the sight of your cum on his fingers.

You shy away from the display, turning your head to the side, unfortunately for your self-consciousness, you see the way he sticks his fingers in his mouth and sucks your cum off of them. The shameless display has your skin burning you from the inside out. After he’s sucked them clean, he wipes his spit off on your inner thigh.

“Can’t believe you were with a man who couldn’t make you orgasm for that long,” he says, almost out of nowhere.

You don’t respond, still embarrassed and a little fucked out, you don’t feel present in your own body. Wiggling against Liu Kang, you feel his very pronounced erection dig into your ass.

You mumble to him, surprised, “You’re hard.”

“Obviously, why wouldn’t I be?” he’s confused by your shock.

You remark, “You didn’t get any pleasure from that.”

“Love, I got so much pleasure from that.”

His response makes you blush.

“Your ex is some piece of work,” he claims.

You lift your shaky legs up and off of his, back to your previous position of outer thighs to his inner thighs. He lets you lay on top of him for a bit while you collect yourself, but you want to look at him.

Clumsily, you get up and shuffle around, climbing on top of him and straddling him, now face to face. You sit back a bit on his lap so you can see him properly.

“What’s wrong now?” He asks, feigning exasperation at you.

You don’t reply, instead lazily taking in all of his features, your eyes zero in on his lips. Wanting to kiss him but unsure if that’s crossing an invisible line. You don’t move, but you pull your eyes away from his mouth to look him in the eyes again.

Lightly rolling his eyes, he huffs out a sigh, his hand comes up behind your neck and pulls you towards him. His lips meet yours in a tender kiss, slow and sweet. At least it is until you shuffle forward and sit right on top of the bulge in his pants. You groan at the feeling of his hard cock pressed up against your bare cunt, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

His tongue explores your mouth, kissing you deeply. His hand holds onto your neck, keeping you in place for him to kiss you how he pleases. It’s is unlike any other, you’re realising now, you don’t think you’ve ever been kissed with so much desire, need.

Groans are pulled from his chest at the way you’ve started mindlessly grinding against him. His free hand coming up to encourage it, appreciating the friction. Having been hard for far too long with no relief. Your hands move to his shoulders, holding onto his warm skin.

You keep grinding clumsily onto his cock, back and forth along the length of it. He keeps his mouth on yours, his groans and your whines shared in it. When you pull back to breathe, his hand comes away from your throat and holds onto your other hip, using both his hands to drag you up and down his cock more forcefully.

You’re huffing out whimpers every time the head of his dick grazes your clit, Liu Kang is getting lost in the feeling of you soaking his cock through his pants. His head dropping back on the couch, you’re getting desperate on top of him. His dick is twitching under you, feeling him jerk against you has you rutting into him.

“Liu,” you call out to him.

“Mmm?” He hums to you.

“Want you inside,” you whimper.

His head shoots up to look you in the eyes, his hands stilling your hips causing you to whine pitifully. His cock jumps under you at the sound.

“Are you sure? Could barely take my fingers,” he’s double checking before getting his hopes up.

Nodding your head at him, you say, “Mhm, need it.”

His chest rumbles with a guttural groan, before he’s tapping the side of your thigh, asking you to stand on your knees for a moment. You lift yourself up and he pulls his pants down, enough to get his fat cock free.

The size of him shocks you slightly, his hands grab your hips again, pulling you down to sit on it. He starts the previous rhythm, grinding you down onto him, his cock slips between your folds, your pussy getting his dick wet and ready for you.

Gliding up and down his cock has your slick leaking from you and as you slide up, the head of his dick catches on your pussy hole, the feeling catching you off guard. You can’t help but push down onto his cock, stretching yourself on him, Liu Kang gasps at the feeling. His hands gripping your hips harshly, grounding himself.

Frustration grows in you at the difficulty of getting him inside you, so you force it and drop down quickly, more of his big dick filling your small cunt. The feeling too much, not so much pain but a large shock, your hands grasp onto Liu Kang roughly. His own body jerking forward, hips moving up on their own accord, a woosh of air exiting him like he’s been punched.

You whimper as your pussy contracts on his cock, right on the verge of an orgasm out of nowhere. Liu Kang realises this; his thumb moves to your clit and rubs quick circles into it. You’re cumming embarrassingly quick on him, his dick only halfway inside you and your eyes are teared up, your pussy creaming on him.

He growls enthusiastically at the sight and feeling of you cumming on him, only stuffed half full.

“Look at that,” he hums, “for someone who’s never had an orgasm, you cum easily.” He remarks.

You’re spasming around his cock, thighs shaking from holding yourself up.

“Sit down,” he says.

Taking a deep breath, you keep going, overstimulated and worried that him breathing on your pussy would have you cumming again. But you persevere, sinking down on him slowly, taking all of him in carefully. Eventually, you’re sitting on him, taking him to the hilt, the full feeling makes you dazed. Liu Kang’s head is thrown back slightly, his own gaze looking a bit fucked out, just from you sitting on him.

You can’t help but grind down into him, hips moving back and forth with him fully seated inside you. His big cock brushing against spots you didn’t know existed, it has you quivering on him. Your grinding gets desperate, and he lets you rut against him how you please, head leaning back and watching you squirm against him devotedly. Small grunts and moans escaping him every now and again. Your own noises more frequent and louder, your hands press into his pecs, using him as leverage.

His own hands leave your hips and instead come up and rest behind his head, holding it up. He’s leaving you to fuck yourself on his cock however you need. The sight of his torso stretched out and watching you blissfully ride him makes your pussy clench. Your clit grinding into his pelvis over and over is eventually what undoes you, cumming with a drawn-out whine, Liu Kang groans at the feeling of you cumming on him again. His self-control waning thin but he wears a large smile as you cum on him again, nonetheless.

“It’s my turn now,” he murmurs.

He manhandles you off of him, turning you so your back is to his chest, then he’s re-entering you from this position. The way he easily manoeuvred you has your heart beating and cunt leaking.

He feels different from this angle, feels delightfully deep. His arms come up and under the crook of your legs, holding them in his elbows. You’re spread so open for him; he slips deeper inside you and it has you keening. His hands hold your tits, playing with them, tugging at your nipples over his shirt. You’re practically immobile in this position, making you feel helpless.

His hands leave your tits and hold onto the front of your shoulders, his hips draw back, his cock slipping out slightly, before he’s shoving himself back inside you all at once. He repeats the motion over and over, fucking up into your immobile body, taking what he needs from you now. Your head falls back on his shoulder, whines and pants freely falling from your lips. Hands scratching at his thighs, grappling for some stability.

It shamefully doesn’t take you long again to finish, not with the punishing pace he set and the sounds spilling from his mouth right by your ear.

“Cumming again? Already?” His words are teasing but he seems overjoyed at your third orgasm on his cock.

His words have your cunt drooling on him, creamy ring at the base of his cock from all your orgasms. You’re silent when you cum this time, more pants than anything else, your pussy strangling his dick. He groans at the feeling of you shuddering on his cock, he continues fucking you through it, not stopping and holding you open.

The brutal pace he’s set is a lot for your abused cunt, the overstimulation getting to you. The pleasure shooting through you is sharp and you jump every time the head of his cock bumps up against something heavenly inside you.

“One more for me?” He asks you, feeling you getting close to the edge again.

You shake your head at him, “Too –hah– much.”

“You can take it.” He encourages, determined to throw you off the edge if you won’t go willingly, “Just one more, love.”

His words, his voice, it sends you over the edge, your orgasm is sharp and sudden. Punching you in your gut, a needy whine spilling from your lips, you’re shedding actual tears from the force of it. Liu Kang is still fucking up into you, pace picking up, chasing after his own high.

“Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” it’s barely coherent when you say it, you aren’t capable of actual speech at the moment, effectively fucked dumb by him.

A large and guttural groan is ripped from him, you can feel it in his chest. He’s cumming hard, releasing it all inside of you, he pushes you down as he fucks up into you. Holding your cunt to the base of him, grinding against you as he finishes. The sensation of being filled by him has your cunt fluttering around him.

You gasp at the feeling of his dick twitching violently as he releases inside you. He holds you to him for some time as he comes down from his own high, and then he’s gently untangling your legs from his arms. He slumps back into the couch, you’re careful to keep him inside you. Not wanting to ruin his couch more than you already have.

You feel limp against him, “You’re gonna get cum on your couch,” you warn.

He groans at you, disapproving of your observation, “Just keep me inside you.”

“That’s not gonna work…” You feel bashful as you add, “It’s leaking out around you.”

He pushes himself up and looks down from over your shoulder, wanting to see it for himself. A satisfied hum leaves him at the sight of his and your cum leaking out of you and down the base of his cock.

“Liu,” you press him.

His hand moves to your cunt and holds there as he slips out of you, holding your pussy, stuffing what’s leaking out back in. You thought he was going to keep his hand there so it didn’t get on the couch but this is the opposite of that, he’s scooping it off his pants, your thighs and the couch and then stuffing it back inside of you.

“You’re making an even bigger mess,” you worry, brows creased.

“It’s fine,” comes his nonchalant reply.

Eventually, after he’s satisfied with what he’s stuffed back inside you, he puts his dick back in his pants and picks you up. He carries you into his room and places you on his bed.

You sigh, “I would be more comfortable with a pair of underwear.”

“I have some boxers that would probably fit you,” he mentions flippantly.

“Why didn’t you offer that from the start?!” You exasperate.

“You didn’t ask, and then you asked me to pretend your bare pussy wasn’t on my couch,” he shrugs at you.

He grabs a pair of boxer briefs and hands them to you, he stands next to you so you have leverage when you stand up yourself. Your legs feel like jelly, you stand there struggling to even stand on both feet let alone one to put the boxers on.

He huffs at you, amused at your struggle, “Sit down, I’ll put them on.”

You sit back down and he slips them over your legs, after he’s gotten them up as far as he can get them while you’re sitting, you grab onto him and stand so he can tug them up the rest of the way.

You mutter at him, “Can’t believe this was always an option.”

He smiles softly at you as you crawl into his bed, you sit up against the headboard. On his bedside table you notice something. 

“What’s that,” you ask, nodding your head at it.

“That’s for you,” he says, grabbing it and handing it to you, he sits on the edge of the bed next to you. Watching your reaction.

And when you realise what it is, you feel like you might cry because it’s the most perfect gift. It’s your favourite book but Liu Kang has gone through it and annotated the pages with his thoughts and feelings. It makes you ridiculously happy.

“This is the best gift I’ve ever been given,” you tell him, giving him a sweet smile.

“Would have preferred to get your copy back but I thought this was the next best thing,” he says.

You shake your head at him, “This is better.” You’re excited to read your favourite book again but this time with all of Liu Kang’s thoughts filling the pages.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

A/N: Thank you for reading!!!! I had trouble with my characterisation of Liu Kang so I am sorry if you guys feel like I didn’t do him justice, but I appreciate any and all support!!! <333 I am down bad for this man atm so I had to get him out of my system. I have an idea for a miniseries of sorts or a part two at the very least, so if you guys like this one, I’ll write the next part <333 Requests are always open, that also goes for if you have any questions in general about me, my blog, or specific fics :)))

[sleepymarimo]

𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬

summary: in which the swordsman is painfully unfamiliar with how it feels to be attracted to someone pairing: zoro x gn!reader cw: zoro is awkward and oblivious, mostly fluff an: i had pre-timeskip zoro in mind for this one when writing this hehe... oh and also i love this song sm!! this one was fun to write :) wc: a little over 1.1k, minus song lyrics!  ⤷ based on this song! ⤷ part of this arctic monkeys mini event!

this shithole of a club wasn't zoro's first choice.

too many flashing lights, people and an odd haze in the air that he figures is a mixture of artificial fog, body heat and cigarette smoke.

but alas, he nurses a jug of sake and finds himself tapping his foot to whatever heavy beat is reverberating through the ginormous speakers.

he leans against a grimy wall, his gaze falling upon some of his crew mates before he glares at some drunkard who accidentally bumps into him.

what a damn mess, he can't help but think, finding solace in how the sake burns his throat. "cheap shit." he mutters under his breath, not at all satisfied by the quality of his overpriced beverage.

another con of these shitty clubs? he has to actually put some effort into making sure that there were no threats around.

a song comes on and he rolls his eyes, taking a large swig of sake in the hopes that maybe he'd get so drunk that he didn't have to remember anything by the time the sun rose tomorrow morning.

get on your dancing shoes there's one thing on your mind...

his steel gaze scans the crowd, a disinterested expression marring his face.

it's nothing but sweat slicked bodies and vibrant colored cocktails, the rowdy scene making zoro wonder if he should just bail and take his chances with finding his way back to the ship.

hell, there weren't even any bar fights he could wedge his way into...

hoping they're looking for you sure you'll be rummaging through...

another sweep of the dancefloor with his sharp gaze. his posture is relaxed and confident, until he's looking into the eyes of someone else across the dancefloor.

oh and the shit, shock, the horror you've seen your future bride!

it's only for a split second, a quick glance shared between two strangers, but the effect is pretty immediate. his broad shoulders pull back and his whole frame goes rigid.

within that second, his senses, prepped and primed for battle, hone in on every minute detail about you. your hair, your figure, your cheeks and the unmistakable glimmer of curiosity that shines in your eyes.

what gets him the most is that little polite smile you give him, before looking away and continuing to dance.

he's dumbstruck and forced into a world of intrigue and trepidation.

yeah, but it's oh so absurd for you to say the first word, so you're waitin' and waitin'

did they just use haki on me? he asks himself, painfully unfamiliar with the notion of actually being attracted to someone.

an annoyed growl crawls up his throat, thinking that you were perhaps mocking him, but when he attempts to take a step forward, he finds that he's unable to do so.

his palms get a little sweaty, his grip tightening on his jug of sake.

this isn't right. this isn't him. he's impulsive and fearless, so why did his heart feel like it was just about ready to burst from between his ribs?

...the only reason that you came so what you scared for?

oh, don't you always do the same it's what you're there for, don't you know?

booze. he decides that he needs more booze, because surely the cheap shit he was drinking is to blame for his sudden unease. navigating through the crowd is easy enough, especially when they practically part for him as he passes by with a restless scowl.

the coolness of the bar counter makes him forget how hot and stuffy this dingy club is.

the lights are flashing down in here tonight!

mindless chatter surrounds him, nothing but meaningless gossip and boisterous laughs. the sound of crashing drums reverberates through the speakers and zoro can't help but feel downright annoyed.

he's handled warlords and sea kings, raging storms and things most people couldn't even dream of. so what the hell was his damn problem?

with a click of his tongue, he decides that he won't run. maybe after a cup or two or three of sake, he'd find you again. yeah... he could do that.

and some might exchange a glance, but keep pretending to dance...

he leans against the bar, shaking himself out of his stupor and waiting for the bartender to come over and get him some more damn booze.

his large frame takes up enough room for two people, but it's not like he really cares. so, he lazily scans the assortment of liquors on the top shelf, not really paying any mind to the other patrons.

don't act like it's not happening, as if it's impolite… to go and mention your name…

instead you'll just do the same as they all do and hope for the best!

he hears a voice beside him, practically yelling out an order in an attempt to be heard over the sound of the booming bass. "hey, bartender! two shots of the good sake on the top shelf, yeah?"

zoro's curiosity is piqued, an amused smirk quirking at the corner of his lips. whoever this person was, it sounded like they had damn good taste.

maybe he could share a drink with 'em?

as soon as he looks over and sees that familiar hair, that nose and that damn smile, he almost physically recoils.

the only reason that you came so what you scared for?

your elbows rest on the counter as you wait for your order, stuck inside your own head and not noticing how the green haired swordsman stares at you with an expression of half-irritation and half-wonder.

shit, there it is again.

well don't you always do the same it's what you're there for but no...

the sensation of his sweaty palms and frenzied heart make zoro feel uncharacteristically inferior, almost exposed. one of his hands instinctively falls to his wado ichimonji and he grips the hilt hard, finding some comfort in the action.

flashing lights and the scent of smoke make him feel even worse, his tongue heavy in his mouth. it makes him almost angry with himself, his frustration coming to a boiling point as he struggles to do anything.

get on your dancing shoes you sexy little swine!

out of the corner of his eye, he sees someone else approaching the bar. an ordinary patron, looking to get another drink.

it's no big deal... until zoro realizes that they're about to fill the gap between you and him.

screw that, he thinks. acting on pure impulse, he abruptly scoots himself closer to you and forces the club goer to take a different spot.

hoping they're looking for you… sure you'll be rummaging through...

his movements are a bit too rough, his shoulder colliding with yours hard enough to make you stumble to the side and slip on some spilled booze.

his large hand moves on its own, firmly wrapping around your waist as he catches you just before you could fall.

in a panic, you cling to his shirt. the white fabric bunches into your hands and you let out a relieved breath, then your eyes look up and meet his for the second time that night.

and I said the shit, shock, horror you've seen your future bride, yeah!

the hiss that comes out through his gritted teeth is drowned out by the music, his posture tensing as he silently revels in the warmth of your form against his.

well, damn.

both of you are silent for a second, hearts thumping to the tune of the bass as you observe one another under the neon lights. neither of you make a motion to move, as if the moment itself were made of glass.

the clink of two cups on the bar counter have both your heads snapping down.

oh yeah, those damn shots...

yeah, but it's oh so absurd for you to say the first word so you're waitin' and waitin'!

"m'zoro." he manages to croak out, opting to deal with this shitshow in the only way he knows how to. his head tilts toward the shots, cheeks aflame. "wanna drink?"

taglist: @dimplewonie

[steddieas-shegoes]

Drabble idea for the ask thing: Steve works at a tattoo shop and Eddie works at a flower shop, they both get odd looks when they tell people about their job. Bonus: Eddie gets a tattoo of a flower from Steve and that's how they meet.

This is like if you took call me sunshine, send me to space and made it cuter with a flower shop and made Steve the tattoo artist instead. I'm just gonna write the bonus scene because that's a lot to keep 500 words or less and we all know how I go on 😂 Don't @ me over the super sappy ending, someone with spoons please write another 50k of this.

🌷🌼🌻🌷🌼🌻🌷🌼🌻

"You want a wildflower bouquet in the space of your full sleeve?" Steve stared at the fully tattooed man over his glasses, brows raised in disbelief. "I'm not one to judge tattoo choices but you seem to know what you're doing and I'm a bit confused as to how that fits with...anything else on your arm."

Steve had definitely done some wild tattoos. He was actively part of so many bad decisions made by people who would live to regret getting their girlfriend's name on their neck or the face of their best friend on their thigh.

But this one was different in that this guy had clearly meticulously planned out every tattoo on his body, and that was a lot of tattoos, and now he wanted to add...wildflowers. In between skulls and guitars and some metal band logo. Right.

"Yeah and if it's a problem, I can go somewhere else, man. I just heard a lot of good things about you and my flower shop is two doors down, so-"

"Wait. You're Eddie? You're the guy who owns the flower shop." Steve perked up, face relaxing more into a smile.

"The one and only. You been by?" Eddie didn't remember actually seeing Steve before.

He'd been shocked to walk in and see a barely tattooed Steve sitting behind the counter. Assuming he was the secretary, he'd said he was here for an appointment with the guy in charge, and Steve smiled and explained who he was.

"I haven't. But someone brought me a bouquet you made when I first opened and it was beautiful. Managed to keep it alive and thriving for almost two weeks, which is a record for me, and then someone said it was because of the way you take care of them before they're sold and the minerals you use in the water and I'm turning into Robin. Jesus."

Eddie was endeared.

Steve was looking down at his tablet in front of him, a barely visible sketch on it.

"Is that what you've come up with?" Eddie asked as he leaned over the counter to get a closer look.

They could talk about his love of the bouquet Eddie made later.

"Yeah, but. Now that I'm looking at you...I'm not sure it's right," Steve sighed, closing the app and looking back up at Eddie. "I can redesign at no charge and set up another consultation."

"Can I see?"

"Sure."

Steve pulled his tablet out and opened the picture back up.

It was beautiful, actually resembled a bouquet Eddie had done not long ago for his friend Jonathan.

"It's perfect. Can it be done in one long sitting or do we need to break it up?" Eddie smiled at Steve, pulling up the calendar on his phone to make an appointment.

"Uh. Well." Steve cleared his throat. "I guess you could probably handle the pain so all in one is fine with me? It's probably gonna be six hours with breaks every hour. Are you sure this is what you want?"

Eddie looked at the tablet again, tilting his head as he thought back to when he'd made this bouquet.

"Do you know Jonathan Byers?" Eddie asked, not looking away from the picture.

His eyes focused on the coneflower that he'd only been able to use in one bouquet before his part time employee found out they were allergic.

"Yeah...why?"

"He got you that bouquet, right?"

Steve nodded.

Eddie didn't really believe in fate or destiny or whatever type of miracle people tended to wish for. He also didn't believe in soulmates or the perfect partner.

But wildflowers grow anywhere, and sometimes love can too.

[iamthatonefangirl]

hey i love your writing and i was just wondering if you could write a harvey x yn thing? could you do the scene in s4e15 where harvey and donna are having the deep conversation and at the end harvey goes “you know i love you donna”, except with yn? thank you lovely!!!💗☺️

i can't believe it took me two months to get back to you anon. i am so sorry. hope this scratches your itch!

~~~

As a third-year associate at Pearson Specter Litt, you had been working in the field long enough to understand how the job worked. Winning cases and making a name for yourself were always at the back of your mind, trying to climb the ladder and one day be just as good as Harvey Specter. You admired him as an attorney, and far more as a person. 

The Liberty Rail case was one you believed you could contribute quality work to while adding another case to your winning streak. 

In your younger years, you had always been so self-assured that throughout your career, you would maintain the rules and laws as they had been set. That was the job, anyway; your strong moral compass and desire to do right in the world had led you to Harvard for law school, and the rest was history. 

Somewhere along the way, though, the lines got blurred. You had gone your entire career watching Harvey cross lines, so it was natural that you would learn the same bad habits. You couldn’t point to any one moment to explain when or why you suddenly decided that breaking the rules would lead to better outcomes. Perhaps it was because you admired Harvey’s skills so greatly; perhaps it was for other reasons. 

You were desperate for a win in this case, because there was no way you couldn’t win it. That’s what you thought, until you found yourself lying to a receptionist to get access to documents illegally. 

You were so excited to have done something for the case, for the firm, for Harvey. You wanted him to be impressed by you. Your feelings for him might have been the driving factor in your choice to commit fraud, wishing you could do something to influence him so he would think of you more highly. 

Wishing you could have more of his attention. 

Now, you were just lucky that Harvey had been able to get you out of the situation you’d created. 

~~~

“Thank you, Harvey,” you told him quietly after an evening of wine and appetizers. 

Harvey hadn’t been over to your place very often given that you were professionals. The odd time or two had happened, what with an odd dinner party you’d just laughed about with Harvey. It felt weird to have him in your space; he was like a foreign entity among the tangible items you called yours, and you longed for him to belong in that category, yours. But he wasn’t, and you reminded yourself of that every day. 

“You don’t need to thank me. You already thanked me.” 

“No, I thanked you for fixing it. Now, I’m thanking you for not bringing it up all night.”  

You didn’t think this situation would ultimately come back to bite you in the ass when you got yourself into it. You supposed that in a worst case scenario, you would be able to cover up your tracks and Harvey would never have to find out.

He would never be disappointed in you if he didn’t find out.

Although, deep down. you almost craved to feel his disappointment, because it was the closest you could come to feeling his rejection. To moving on. 

“I just figured if you wanted it brought up, you’d bring it up. And now you have, so…” He paused to stare into his glass. “I told you I’d never let anything happen to you, and I won’t, ever. So you don’t ever have to feel scared like that again.” 

You felt a familiar pang in your chest, accompanied by the burning in your stomach you felt whenever you were brutally confronted with the reminder that he didn’t want you. His words clawed at your heartstrings, reminding you that he did truly care about you. Just not in the way you hoped. 

You tried to brush off what he was saying to you, commenting, “I thought you said you didn’t do the ‘comfort’ thing.” 

“I didn’t say I didn’t do it, I said I didn’t have time, because I was so busy saving your ass.” 

Once again reminded of the lengths he went to for you. And all you could feel was pain. 

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” you told him. 

You knew deep down that you could never doubt him, you just didn’t want him to have to clean up your mess. When you tried to convey that to him, it came across as though you didn’t believe in him. You would never be able to tell him how much you believed in him, day in and day out. You believed he was capable of so much, and you loved him dearly for it. 

“I’m sorry I snapped at you.” 

Your thoughts were overwhelmed by your desire to kiss him in that moment. The way he looked at you made you think that maybe, you weren’t just a crazy little girl desperately in love with her boss. That maybe, you could have more. 

“Anyone else ever loses faith in me, it doesn’t matter. But with you, it’s different.” 

He still had that look on his face. You thought he might just lean in and give in to you. Thinking about it melted your brain–

“I should go,” he said somberly, to your dismay. He stood, and your heart just about shattered. 

Out of nowhere, a wave of confidence shot through your veins like adrenaline, enticing you to stand up and make sure he knew what you wanted. 

“Why?” you asked. 

“You know why.” You shook your head to indicate that no, you didn’t. You wanted to know why. 

“You know I love you.” 

Your brain short-circuited. 

~~~

“You know I love you,” he expressed, having mustered all the courage he could to be open, to be vulnerable with you. 

But you didn’t budge, and he had his answer. So he turned, and began to walk to the door, wondering what he was supposed to do next. 

Was he not enough for you? After all he’d just gone through to protect you, he didn’t expect you to be jumping all over him, gushing that you loved him. It would have been nice, though, if you had. 

You probably just assumed he was covering his own ass and you were just a liability to him. You could never be a liability to him. 

As he rested his hand on the doorknob, he felt you gently pulling at his shoulder. He turned his head, and then the rest of his body, to face you. You looked back and forth between his eyes cautiously, before looking down at your hand on his shoulder. You slid it down to his chest, now resting both hands on him. He tried to keep his breathing steady. Had he been wrong? Had you truly felt something all this time? 

As you brought your hand behind his neck and pulled him down to meet your lips with his, all of his worries went away. 

~~~

[writingescapades]

Jealous P

I feel his character is one that goes from zero jealousy to jealous of everything and everyone. It’s mainly because of his emotional development. It goes from nothing to everything, then tapers out.

Initially, he doesn’t really feel anything. If you’re spending a lot of time with others over him, he doesn’t quite notice. Even if he starts to notice, he doesn’t have much of a response. You’re busy that’s that. But oh boy does this do a 180 once he grows more.

At some point, P develops attachments. Personally, I feel this starts around when he reunites with his father. Something about that cut scene where his heart releases old memories. P begins to understand what it means to crave companionship. He finds himself seeking you out, even if it’s just to be around your company.

If you’re busy, or if you’re spending time with someone else, he pouts. Actually sits at a table, head in hands with a pout on his face. Every time you turn towards him or address him, he perks up, and if he doesn’t get the attention he wants (or enough), he’s back to pouty face. You have too many secret photos of this face. If Gemini is with P, he does not let P have it easy, nor does he explain P’s emotions. The lantern just teases P until P gets fed up and leaves.

P is not as jealous when work keeps you away from him. Instead, he likes to sit nearby watching you, helping wherever, whenever, he can. He’s more clingy when his competitor is work, which you’re more than happy to provide after your tasks are complete.

If it’s a person, that’s another story. No one knows more than P that he is a mere puppet, that Krat currently detests all puppets, that he technically shouldn’t exist. It all dawns on him when he finds you spending a lot of time with humans. It doesn’t really matter which person or for what purpose, what really matters to him is the time he looses with you when you spend it with others. He suddenly reminded of the gap between the two of you. That he is not a human, no matter how close he gets. Surely your end choice will always be a human. Never a puppet. Never him.

To P, his jealousy consumes him because his jealousy makes him upset with himself. He’s more aggressive when he fights, passing off injuries to careless behaviours or strong opponents. He’s more lackluster when it comes to his missions. He continues to collect odd bits of human creations, but he doesn’t share them with you. The biggest sign is when he starts to detach himself from the other hotel guests. He doesn’t really do anything, just sort of deactivating when he’s not on a mission.

Of course, you notice the sudden solemn air that hangs about the hotel. An afterthought reflection of the other residents that the puppet hero seems to have something weighing him down. So you seek him out and find him sitting on the floor, fiddling with his collections. He doesn’t respond to your initial calls, too lost in his own mind. But when you place your hand on his shoulder, he slowly looks up and blinks. His eyes are devoid of emotions. Some might claim that those are how puppet eye’s should look, but you know better.

Sitting down with him your pick up an item and move it around your hands, all the while speaking quietly to P about your day. When you ask him questions about his day, he’s quiet, but slowly beings to shake his head in response. When you cut to the chase and mention that something seems to be bothering him, P becomes silent once more. He even stops fiddling with the item in his hand. When you replace the item with your hands, P holds on, gently. He understands what he feels, but he’s not able to piece together why. In all fairness, no one taught him about jealousy. He’s not embarrassed to admit he wants your attention to be on him more than the others, but he feels a little silly that he let himself fall to such a level. When you laugh and tell him it’s only a natural human response, his face finally lights up. You’ll never fully comprehend the validation he feels in those words.

You tease him, but he doesn’t feel embarrassed. Yes he does want you to spend time with him. Of course you need to sit by his side. Yes, his hand naturally needs to be wrapped within yours. Did you forget his true smile only comes out when your talking to him? Now that he understands why he felt what he felt, he’s not letting you go that easily. Oh yes, he will play on your guilt of leaving him all alone. He’s not afraid of glaring at you if you try to leave him. He’ll tug you close to him, smiling if you happen to fall into his lap where he can place his head on your head or shoulder. You have some making up to do!

After this, P isn’t afraid to announce his jealousy to you. If you’re busy with a task, he won’t get in your way, but the moment you’re free, he all but slumps on you, wrapping his arms around you, preventing you from doing anything but giving him all the attention you so heartlessly neglected to provide. When it comes to humans, it takes P some time to convince himself that you won’t leave him, won’t abandon him for a human person. It’s not really till end game where he feels more confident, more worthy to be by your side. Till then, he uses moments of jealousy to observe you and the person you’re talking to. He tries to see traits in them that he doesn’t have and mimic them to see how you respond. Do you prefer him with these traits? It’s all a farce though. What he really wants is to hear your voice telling him to just be himself because that’s the P you know and love.

[rillils]

how do explain stucky from the moment they met to where they are now (together in each others arms) to my friend who knows nothing about marvel

ohh this is a tough one, honey! i think i've got two options for you:

the short answer:

stucky is a compendium of all the best tropes out there, and i'm sure i'm gonna miss a few:

soulmates? check! star-crossed lovers? check! battle husbands? super check! mutual pining? check! 'and they were roommates'? check! best friends to lovers? check check check! long-lost lover comes back from the dead? fuck yeah, check! temporary amnesia? check! dude in distress trope? check! 'they will always find each other and choose each other in every lifetime'? also check! identity porn? extra check! saved by the power of love? you guessed it: check! slow burn or childhood sweethearts? you decide!!! did they share their first kiss when steve was 16, as per a popular fanon theory? did they only confess their feelings during the war? did they only get together much later, when bucky was healing in wakanda? you can pick literally ANY point in their timeline, and it will still make sense! they're all equally valid! you can even have multiple different headcanons at once, i mean who's gonna stop you??? all you have to do is join in the fun! 💕

the long AF answer, aka:

STEVE & BUCKY'S LOVE STORY, UNABRIDGED SOMEWHAT ABRIDGED, part 1/3

all right, let's set the scene:

imagine two young kids, let's call them steve and bucky. they meet, they immediately take to each other, they become instant besties! and as they grow up together, facing many hardships, their bond deepens. not only are they best friends; they are also each other's family. they take care of each other, and they both know they can always rely on one another in times of need.

when steve's mom (and only remaining relative) passes away, bucky reminds him that he's not as alone in this world as he thinks he is: bucky will always be by his side. bucky will always love him unconditionally, will always be there for him, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, and he wants steve to know that.

in fact, he asks steve to move in with him, thus offering steve both a literal and a metaphorical home.

and steve says yes!

SO. they are each other's home, they're living together, they're getting by all right. but then war breaks out, and eventually it reaches their little home as well: bucky is drafted, and steve, due to his many health issues, and despite his best intentions, can't follow the boy he loves onto the battlefield.

it's a very difficult time for them both - so much so that they can't even bring themselves to talk about it.

they have no choice but to say goodbye for now, knowing that they might never see each other again. but here's something you might not know yet about steve: he's the most reckless, most stubborn fucker america's ever seen. he's not gonna let this stop him!!! instead, he goes and gets a very sweet, kindly scientist to fucking experiment on him, because screw it, he's going to fight in this war if it's the last thing he does. and that's how he goes from Smol Steeb to Lorge Premium Steeb.

of course, things don't go exactly as he predicted, and steve is made to be the star of a war propaganda-fuelled musical kinda thingie, which he resents (but he looks fucking precious in his costume)

BUT! he does get closer to the actual battlefield. which is where he discovers that bucky has been captured by the enemy (!!!!!!!) and is most likely dead by now. but steve isn't willing to give up so easily! he'll believe bucky's dead when he sees it with his own eyes. so, he embarks on this suicide solo mission in the attempt to get bucky back, even if it means wandering on his own. into enemy territory. where he would be shot. on. sight. with no protection for his dumb ass except for a bunch of theater props!!! but such is the power of love, y'all.

against all odds, steve finds bucky very much still alive! and as soon as bucky recognizes him, even as confused as he is, he pulls out this beautiful, ecstatic, angelic-ass smile, like he's just seen god or he got high on some real good edibles or maybe both idk, like my man here was having a serious Religious Experience™ you guys

and i just wanna say, they could have totally kissed here and it would have made plenty of sense. but that's true of like 90% of their scenes in this franchise, so *shrugs*

ANYWAY steve takes bucky in his arms (well technically yes he does) and brings him to safety, and on their way there, bucky proves once more just how hard he meant that "with you til the end of the line" from before

afterwards, steve is finally given the chance to fight, just like he wanted.

bucky, on the other hand, could very well leave the war behind and go home; but when he learns that steve is staying, he chooses to stay too, and fight by his side. and he tells steve so in this very intimate, softspoken, delightfully suggestive conversation, which can be summed up like this:

and so they walk right back into the heart of the fight, only this time together, as they were always meant to be!

but. during an especially tricky mission, they're surprised by the enemy, and as a result, bucky falls to his death into a deep ravine.

steve is devastated. overwhelmed with guilt, grief and rage, he vows to bring down the people responsible for his loss, even if it costs him his own life.

and um, it kind of does? cost him his own life?

victorious after his last vis-a-vis with The Antagonist™, steve still chooses to sacrifice himself to prevent the catastrophe set into motion by the aforementioned Antagonist™. he's flying a jet over the frosty expanse of the atlantic, and you know, from the outside, you could easily argue that he could try to save himself. if he really wanted to. but with bucky dead, and the people responsible for all this pain, either dead or captured, it seems like all the will to fight is gone from steve; and so he plunges the jet straight into the ocean, and himself with it.

is this the end of their story?, you might ask.

the answer is: of course not!!!! the best is yet to come, babes!!!

EDIT: here is part 2

[jounosparticles]

reply to the tags of your reply to my previous ask: PLEASE RANT TO ME ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP!!!! i want to hear. they rot my brain too and im glad that i found someone who's also suffering the suegiku takeover

OKAYOKAY YAY!!!!! this will be fun >:)

a huge suegiku analysis:

okay in the last ask you mentioned how tetchou stabs jouno for fun and sillies and stuff which happened to make me think a lot about how tetchou acts decently different around jouno than others.

tetchou is typically rather formal in the way he acts in a way? as in he's very straightforward, generally composed and calm in his words, and polite to anyone he's dealing with.

an example of this is when he still treated the cafe owner kindly despite him being an "accessory to terrorism" in jouno's words.

basically, in most situations, he remains very composed. even when he's up to his sillier antics (like when he was watching ants or doing pushups during a meeting). he's direct and straight-faced almost always around most people. he doesn't act that way to be seen as silly, it's just who he is (and i love it).

i would imagine he could act this way for many reasons. it is most likely him being professional, likely as a reference to the irl tetchou who had samurai lineage; making him act with the tone and professionalism of samurai.

despite his professionalism, maybe he has difficulty being expressive around most people, or maybe he doesn't want to be expressive around people by choice.

but this is where he's different around jouno.

firstly, i'll talk about the times he's stabbed jouno. this has happened twice, and both were to de-escalate jouno from his tendancy to mentally torment people.

the wording in these panels implies this is a regular occurrence. which is a little funny to me hehe.

anyway, we see by the way that he acts around others that usually he de-escalates situations by talking first instead of acting. he will turn to violence if he believes it's needed, but typically he talks first. we see this when he confronts kenji verbally before attacking.

yet with jouno he doesn't bother to tell him to stop first, instead opting to jab him. remembering that the hunting dogs have enhanced physical strength, a small stab wound probably isn't a huge deal for them.

because of this i think the stabbings are tetchou partially teasing jouno. him messing around like that isn't something he does with anybody else but he seems to enjoy pissing off his partner.

also. stabbing him directly in the ass? gay as hell. jouno following up by saying "don't poke my ass every single time" implies that his ass specially gets jabbed a lot. hmmmm

anyways

another example of this is when tetchou smirks/chuckles at jouno insisting that he's the greatest hunting dog. the small laugh was most definitely to bother jouno.

mmmm theyre both so pretty.

once again, tetchou pushes aside his composed self and being intentionally silly only really happens towards jouno.

arguably, this can be shown again in the pushups scene.

tetchou acting unbothered and then calling jouno's weight "just right" while he continues to exercise seems like a combination of him trying to (jokingly) annoy jouno as well as his tendency to not acknowledge his own actions as bothersome or odd to others.

anyway to sum up this segment: tetchou is only seen intentionally bothering and teasing jouno and nobody else. he acts much differently towards others but seems to let his professional guard down around only his partner. this shows a great layer of trust and comfort between the two!

oh. but im not done talking about this. not at all.

the other huge display of emotions for tetchou was everything that went down with kenji.

as displayed throughout most of tetchou's appearances, he's incredibly justice-orientated. he has a tendancy to put justice above everything. here's a couple panels showing this:

ooog tetchou is so pretty. i love that left panel so much

using his own logic here, he should have went after bram after having found him. tetchou even admitted that, but there was one other thing more important to him than that. jouno.

starting here, this panel takes place after bram and aya escape. at this point, tetchou had assumed the agency was using bram to control people; meaning it wasn't just kenji he technically had business with at that time.

i will also preface this by saying the book's influence likely had an impact on tetchou attacking kenji before they could finish talking.

however, the book's writing didn't stop tetchou from insisting on finding jouno before taking down the agency. his worry towards jouno's whereabouts made him change his stance on justice as well as deterred him from prioritizing taking down the agency.

now that he's talking to kenji, i'd like to start it by showing that he seemed genuinely grateful and happy when kenji initially offered to help him find jouno.

as well in the anime, his eyes soften when kenji offers to help.

after talking to kenji for a brief moment, he opts to attack instead of continuing. this seems out of character for tetchou; he even apologized to kenji before saying he needs to find jouno as quickly as possible.

the fact that he apologized, combined with how we've seen him treat people in the past shows that this isn't typically what he resorts to.

also, in the anime we can see the gloss his eyes slightly shaking as he says this line, which could display worry, sadness, or anger towards whatever could be happening to his partner.

he seems almost distraught, which is a huge contrast to his typically-composed self.

and, of course; there's the fact that mid-fight tetchou had to tell kenji that jouno is a good person despite what people think.

he looks genuinely sad here, as if he's speaking from his heart. jouno has very-clearly put up a tough exterior that he uses around everyone, but tetchou goes out of his way to defend him even when he absolutely doesn't need to.

he could have stayed silent or just said he wants his coworker back, but he insisted on stating that jouno is a good person.

it's also important to note that nobody else tends to speak kindly of jouno, which puts a lot more depth on their closeness to each other. tetchou sees through jouno's words and actions and knows that he is heavily misunderstood.

and of course, we have tetchou directly saying that he will place jouno above justice despite knowing what the right course of action should have been.

he is putting jouno above the very thing he basis his career as well as his morality on. that's how worried he is. that's how much he cares.

and in this panel, we see he's extremely angry towards kenji's lack of response.

lets compare this to the first time tetchou fought the agency.

in chapter 61, when he was fighting the agency alongside jouno; he kept a more menacing/intimidating look as he attacked. when he was not attacking, he kept calm-looking despite being pissed off. compared to when he was fighting kenji in chapter 100 and looked infuriated. even the different fonts used for the dialogue puts further emphasis on this.

now, i'm going to jump ahead to the end of tetchou and kenji's fight. tetchou recognizes his mistake and asks kenji to kill him.

it's important to note that his reasoning as to why he should have chased justice was because he doesn't think jouno would have condoned his choice.

he specified it again, even opting to call jouno his friend. also note how white his eyes are here, meaning his intent was pure and he genuinely felt awful for misjudging what jouno would have wanted. he cares so much that he was asking to be killed for misunderstanding what was the correct course of action.

and then after kenji insists on helping him find jouno instead, he smiles in relief before the two pass out.

one last small note is that we've only ever seen tetchou smile three times throughout the manga so far, and all of them were mentioned here and involved jouno.

to sum it all up: tetchou, who is typically very composed and justice-orientated, is willing to throw aside his entire stance on justice for jouno. he lets his professional guard down around his friend, allowing them to tease each other and be silly as well, which he doesn't appear to do around others often. this shows that the two have a close bond and genuinely care so much about each other.

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

as for jouno, i don't have as much to say however there definitely is a few things i'd like to touch on.

firstly, despite claiming to hate tetchou a lot, jouno still uses a respectful honourific (-san) whenever he refers to him. i'm not a japanese speaker so please feel free to correct me if i'm wrong but there's a good chance jouno would opt to not use an honorific at all if he genuinely detested tetchou as much as he claims.

and when it comes to teasing, jouno does it much more often than tetchou does (however he also messes with more people, it's just a personality difference between the two).

clearly with the way they act around each other, jouno does not actually hate tetchou. i think they like to bother each other by play-bullying.

also, noting on jouno's criminal past, he was given an easy oppurtunity to be thrown into the DoA where he could be incredibly powerful and would likely not face any consequences for his actions had he joined.

we know he declined fukuchi's offer because he found joy in saving innocent people. but i would the influence of the other hunting dogs helped set him into that place of mind. tetchou seems to be the one he works with most, so there's a good chance he takes a lot of inspiration from how tetchou handles justice.

another thing i noticed with jouno is that his displaying of emotions is almost an inverse of how tetchou acts. jouno keeps smiling a lot despite who he's speaking to. in contrast, he can keep a straight face when interacting with tetchou a lot.

of course, that could make it seem as if jouno is unhappy around tetchou, but i would argue it's the opposite.

some people will force a happy expression to appear unassuming or kind (or in a lot of jouno's cases, intimidating). so him allowing himself to maintain a straight face around tetchou could mean that he is comfortable enough around him to not feel the need to express everything. he doesn't need to keep his guard up around tetchou.

jouno almost always keeps a very happy or calm composure around enemies, likely as an intimidation factor. yet he allows himself to express frustration and annoyance around the hunting dogs in general, and most often with tetchou. i'd like to imagine this just shows his security in his partner.

jouno talking to an enemy, for reference ^ i also just really love this page hehe

the last thing i'll mention here is a lot of speculation on my behalf. however i think that jouno seems like the type to push away those close to him. i kind of perceived his supposed hatred towards tetchou to be a combination of joking around as well as possibly a defense mechanism to try and avoid keeping people close?

my main reason in stating that is that he's claimed to not like any of his coworkers yet still opts to not betray them and still works well with them. if he truly hated tetchou, he probably wouldn't allow them to work together. he likely says such things to avoid being liked too much, and these actions proved to work since tetchou acknowledged that everyone sees jouno as cold.

yet through all that tetchou still knew he was good despite the exterior, which makes them well-suited for each other.

anyways: i feel like these two really do treat each other much differently than they treat the other people around them. that puts a lot of emphasis on their bond and closeness in general. they can be silly around each other, they can get through arguments no problem, they make a great team, and clearly care about each other a ton! they mean so much to me <3

i love my sillies :)

[ricanvvas]

Okay, I’m going to make one thing *extremely* clear,

Anime that were made for the purpose of portraying strong friendship or teamwork should not have ships that includes the characters within.

Sure, yes, ships are all about opinion and scenes and whatnot, but you cannot look at me dead in the eye and stupidly stand there trying to “make me understand”:

“gOjO aNd gEtO—”

“nArUtO aNd sAsUkE—”

“eRwiN aNd LeVi—”

“chUuyA aNd dAzAi—”

“(literally every fucking character in haikyū)—”

“mEguMi aNd iTadOri—”

All of these characters and their relationships or even the anime itself are supposed to be a clear image of actual true bonds, heavy understandments, depth-y trust, and strong, loyal friendship.

And this HAD to be said. I cannot express how much it triggers me and makes me lose interest or faith so quickly. Makes me believe that you understood absolutely nothing through what the given relationship between the characters was trying to portray. Are you even properly watching the show?

Like it or not, by the way, fetishizing gay people has become so common that not only are weirdos fetishizing gay men, they’re starting to insert sexualities of their choice INTO a character that does not belong to them in any form. Go, turn tf back, and watch/read your yaoi stuff, don’t drag it into anime that has nothing to do with it + people genuinely want to enjoy what is canonically given (indeed, I’m a canon freak). Straight up disrespectful to the original author when you really try to twist characters or their relationship with another character. Disappointing.

It overall makes me believe that everybody who does decide to get into these ships are the types of people who absolutely lack any form of strong bonds or friendship in their life, hence the urge and odd desire to start shipping platonic friendships who clearly were there for the purpose to have a relationship that portrays friendship, understanding, teamwork, and etc.

Most of the time because of this, people even forget the entire plot of the actual story, and instead try to focus it on just two characters (which they twisted their entire relationship into something that satisfies their delusion). It’s genuinely sad. As a writer myself, and hopefully a soon-to-be-author, I’d be damned if I ever opened a phone and saw some no-lifer trying to ship the two characters I put in specifically to show their deep friendship—it sounds so absurd.

[tetrakys]

A few thoughts on the Halloween event

The first event of New Gen was released today, and as usual there are some positives and negatives. I'll start with the negative and put everything under spoiler.

Negatives

The system in my opinion isn't well calibrated. I personally hate gatcha, years ago I swore to myself I would never play another gatcha game in my life. But alas most games have some form of gatcha embedded mechanic, and I know generally people are not as negative toward them as I am. However, even if I want to set my personal feelings aside and try to be completely objective, there are some issues.

I think it all boils down to: games should either have a luck component or a timing/difficulty component. At the moment the event relies both on luck (the gatcha and the minigame) and timing (it's too short). This means that while it's impossible for f2p players to complete the event in full, it's also extremely expensive for them (and everyone else) to catch up.

Side note: I don't think it's outrageous that f2p can't complete the event in full. If we look at other games it's basically the case everywhere (I'm thinking of Ikemen games especially, but also MLQC and other similar mobile games). Companies have to make money somehow so it makes sense that they incentivise people to invest in the game with additional rewards. The issue here is that by adding too many obstacles what is achieved isn't a desire to invest some money to keep playing, but only a feeling of frustration that puts people off completely.

I did the math, f2p players by entering the event every day will only be able to obtain around 10-12 items when the total is 25 (including clothes, room elements and moments with the crushes), which makes for only 40% of the event. The gap is too large. If it had been 70-80% instead, maybe some players would've felt encouraged to spend something on the event to complete it, but when you're missing more than half and would need around 650-750 gems the feeling is instead anger mixed to a resigned 'what's the point?'.

Of course there is the possibility of someone being extremely lucky and obtaining perfect scores at the minigame and also unlocking all the dates and items they really care about in those free rolls they are able to obtain. It is true that not everyone wants to maximise the event and unlock all clothes and scenes. In which case yes, the event would be very convenient to them. But 40% odds of obtaining exactly what you want are still too low in my opinion.

Hence why I think this would be solved by either making the minigame easier, or extending the event for a few extra days.

Positives

There are indeed some very positive aspects. The outfits and items are all really pretty in my opinion, plus I already mentioned being a fan of how the crushes look like in their Halloween attire.

But what I think is the main improvement of this event is the scenes spent with the crushes, they seem to be much longer than what we used to have in the old game. Plus personally I really liked these scenes, they were both funny, cute and a bit romantic/hot. I can tell it's an early days event because there's nothing overtly romantic going on, but it feels right for the pace of the game. Also, I think all illustrations are 10/10 chef's kiss (I wiiiish Jason's illu had been a bit darker, with a dangerous/spicy undertone, but alas that's just my personal taste).

Also, what really sold me on these scenes is that they are all saved in our library, and we can replay them in full whenever we want and even pick different choices. This gives my completionist soul so much relief, I've always hated that I couldn't test different choices in past events without spending most of the event currency.

So, in conclusion, there are both things that work and don't work in this event, I hope for Christmas and Valentine the high quality of art and scenes will be kept and the system will be reworked to make it less frustrating for everyone.

[visionsofmagic]

jjk characters as cats [or jjk characters’ personalities as cats]

🌸 crack, humor, fluff, only a fun drabble ‘is all, nothing so serious, just me and my little cracked drabble… have fun! [the idea was so dumb and odd that I needed it as written, so, bear this weird drabble with me bows!] m.

🪷 satoru, suguru, yuji, sukuna, megumi, nobara, choso

SATORU

rich. you don’t know how he does that but he as a cat seems so rich. he can - probably- the one of his own kind. he even has glasses on his magical eyes, white fur never gets dirty even when he plays in the dust to fight with another cat who has black markings on his fur. except that, he likes sweet - fond of them and whenever you come home, he waits for you on the couch, looking at you; if you have sweet he jumps to you, licking your face but if you don’t, oh when you don’t, he gives you a bombastic side eye, going into his own room - yes he has a room as his - in a dramatic way.

SUGURU

he is classy. friendly to you but the moment you leave a sarcastic comment about his fur, and how he sometimes closes his one eye, he makes you regret it right away. he doesn’t eat on the ground, he prefers eating on the table with you. he has a weird friend with white fur and glasses - how a cat can have glasses on anyway. he makes his friend sounds like he is begging him to get out with him as suguru sits on his paws, watching him from the behind of window, seeing he enjoys his friend’s suffering.

YUJI & SUKUNA

they exactly have opposite personalities, literally; yuji is hyperactive, and soft, sounding like he is chuckling most of the time, and is everyone’s favorite with his friendly manner while on the other hand, sukuna shows a menacing manner, judging everyone- including you most of the time even though you swear he likes you too to others when they see sukuna scratches your skin - especially when you touch his fur (he only lets you do that when he wants, not when you want). you find yuji wakes you up in the morning while cuddling, being the sun in your bedroom, while you find sukuna standing in front of the window at night, looking at you from atop with menacing crimson eyes - you bet he has plans of killing you but yuji, being your guardian angel, stops him even if it means sukuna leaves wounds on him. but you know sukuna will protect yuji if another cat tries to hurt him.

MEGUMI

he is unbothered about everything, including his other cat friends but he gets shy so easily, hiding in your arms, back, and room whenever he doesn’t like to be in the center of any attention. his eyes are so beautiful that you take pictures of him. he has friends outside the house. however, he likes to be around you, helping you sleep at night as you cuddle him, peacefully. he even leaves his friends behind when he sees you coming home, slowly walking to you when you call his name as if he doesn’t care, but you can see how his eyes shine, excitement on his expression. he likes you even though he will not show any affection easily.

NOBARA

she is a fashion icon for other cats. she follows cat fashion, having her nails done, and showing them to her friend maki proudly. she doesn’t like when male cats are so dirty, judging them and nearly looking like she rolls her eyes at their failures. she is a bit crazy, listening to all your gossip about something, ready to attack whoever crosses their lines, touching her clean and soft fur. she likes when you bring her to shopping too, making comments about your choices of clothes as she nods her head in agreement and disagreement.

CHOSO

he is so emotional that it is embarrassing for him to admit it. he cries every time you leave home for work, and he jumps every time you come back home. he sits beside you, being a supportive cat and giving you napkins which he brings with him by using his teeth whenever you two watch an emotional movie together. it ends up with you being the one who is cleaning his tears because he can’t endure seeing other cats getting dramatic scenes in the movie. you hug him and he hugs you back. he even has a cat with pink fur to be his protector. he even brings him home and wants you to adopt him as his little brother. he has such a pure heart.

🩷

[paleturtlecherryblossom-blog]

My thought on the Rise of Ning, Pt 3

I finished 24 episodes of The Rise of Ning, and I wanna add in my two cents about the storyline so far, which, considering that I wake up everyday at 6 am to catch up on, is pretty damn good XD:

I was very pleased they adapted a scene of Lu Jiaxue observing Yining’s calligraphy and noticing that it bears a heavy similarity to Luo Shenyuan’s. This is an often emphasized point in the novel, given how prized a skill calligraphy was for scholars/officials back then, the fact that Yining can replicate his style is indicative of how very close they are. Now whether that’s a sibling thing or not, is anyone’s guess ;) hehehe

At this point, many of the drama plot lines are very different from those in the novel. But the one thing that the drama preserves in full glory, despite all the plotline modifications, is the sheer depth of Luo Shenyuan’s yearning for Luo Yining! And it’s just so!!! The way she is his most important consideration, the detail with which he prepares everything for her in the event of his death, and the extreme passion he is clearly repressing every moment sitting next to her… I’m so very satisfied, I’m giving five stars just for this alone.

Another thing this drama does excellently is to more subtly portray Yining’s extreme levels of attachment to him: the way in all her visuals of the future, he is eternally just accompanying her, reading to her, living with her (girl has truly never accounted for a possible future husband and sister-in-law in all these dreams lolol), her headlong jump into the river to avoid implicating him, even though she has to have heavy trauma of falling off high places… Also her keenness in noticing all the girls who are trying to marry him, while he couldn’t care less. (Also I daresay her determination to matchmake for him is also her oblivious way of staking a claim on her San-ge)

Also, shame they made Lu Jiaxue and Zhao Mingzhu adoptive sibling, putting them on the same generational level. This is because there is a point in the novel where our hot pining Marquis Lu becomes Yining’s godfather without having a clear idea of who she is, and the way he manipulates that seniority is truly a delicious read.

Notably the drama ALSO preserves the forceful and unpleasant aspects of his obsession with regaining Yining; in the novel, he truly cannot conceive that she has a whole life and family she will protect above him. Also in the novel, Yining is reborn in the Luo family after twenty years as a wandering spirit, so by that time, she mostly moves on from her romantic attachments to him, though she does blame him for her death. The blaming for death section is there in the drama, but here I feel that Yining's primary feeling towards him is raw fear, which also biases me firmly against Lu Jiaxue rn.

 Now I’ll begin my usual rambling commentary on plot changes lol. They’ve quite significantly changed Daoyan’s character here, enough that he’s basically a whole new person. While this makes sense with the drama plotline of reopening the Chen Jiuheng case, that’s not a plotline found in the novel. Novel! Daoyan is an eccentric monk who is also a military genius. My first read of him in the novel was that he was very ruthless, but tbh it’s more of that he is unaffected by emotions and is exceedingly practical, and in this he contrasts both Lu Jiaxue and Luo Shenyuan, who have an obsession with Luo Yining in common. So that’s a dynamic we are probably not going to see, oh well.

With regards to the side plot of Luo Yixiu and Lin Mao… I somehow don’t really care for it? Sure, with regards to my personal life, I believe in marrying a person you sincerely like, but in a feudal context like in this drama… it honestly feels a bit out of place. The princess’ son is genuinely a pretty good choice for her, given that he cares for her, has an odd personality that is not likely to take concubines later and has a pretty reasonable mother! Also I just instinctively dislike Lin Mao for always lecturing her about her weight and giving her weird weight loss medicine! Even if she says she likes Lin Mao, it comes off more as a childish infatuation than anything else.

Now that I’ve gotten started on this, novel! Lin Mao is actually shown to have a crush on Luo Yining, which no one except Shenyuan ever takes seriously. He does propose marriage, only to be turned down pretty firmly, and he goes off to a border region. Throughout the novel, he is portrayed as a playful individual who keeps wriggling in and out of sticky situations. He eventually does make his name by securing disaster relief for the border but throughout the novel AND the drama so far, he’s the kind of person I may want to have a short summer romance with, but never the kind of person I can depend on for a steady life. And that is kind of a very important criteria for marriage for a noble lady in those times!

Anyway moving on, regarding the plotline of Gu Minglan’s death, it is not a mystery in the novel: she forces herself to give birth to Yining prematurely, so that Yining’s parentage is not suspected. In a way, the novel portrays her as a very sensitive woman deeply conscious of the social taboos of her time, after Yining is conceived, giving birth to her is the only thing that keeps her tethered to life. 

The drama alters Gu Minglan’s character to be more self-reliant and thus adds in an element of intrigue to her death. I feel this is primarily driven by the fact that they will only reveal that Yining isn’t the garbage Luo Second master’s blood daughter much later in the drama, but this reveal actually happens pretty early in the novel. And THEN all the courtyard intrigue takes place when Yining joins her blood related paternal family (I don’t wanna spoil this, but maybe you guys will guess who it is anyway). In the drama plot, the intrigue continues to happen in the Luo family, after all, as a main character, you NEED to have some family member scheming to kill/ruin/wrong you always. 

Although Madam Chen’s character is more fleshed out here: her resentment is only human, considering that she loses her first son early and has to watch her husband harbor feelings for her sister-in-law, which is probably the highest level of social damnation for her, if it ever came out. Both in the novel and drama she is a person obsessed with maintaining ‘face’. In the novel, her first son is alive and well, and also her husband occupies a higher position than his brother. In the drama, she possesses neither of these comforts, and it’s not illogical that she plays a more vicious role. And the actress is also killing it; her expressions when no one is observing, do give off an ominous feeling.

[emchant3d]

part two of Eddie forgetting about Valentine's day 🥰 part one here

The entire weekend is weird. Steve keeps giving him these looks like he’s waiting for him to do something, or say something, or pull something out from somewhere, but every time Eddie tries to hedge into a conversation about it, the damnedest thing happens.

Steve gets embarrassed.

His eyes flit in that flustered way of his, his cheeks go red, and he avoids Eddie’s gaze. And he’s used to seeing Steve a little worked up, sure, that’s nothing new, but the little bit of shame that dips into the expression each time about kills him.

So maybe it’s not the best choice, but he stops asking. He lets Steve deflect it. Keeps telling himself that Steve will talk about it when he’s ready, that if he just keeps being patient, he’ll get his answers.

By the time Sunday evening rolls around, Steve’s stopped looking like he’s waiting for some kind of sign to drop from the sky, so Eddie feels a little better about letting it go. Steve had spent some time with Robin that afternoon anyways, so it’s entirely possible the Wonder Twins worked out whatever it was Steve was stressing about anyway.

And that’s another odd thing - Eddie and Robin are pretty close. Not as close as Robin and Steve, obviously. No one could ever touch that relationship or be as important to Steve as Robin is. That’s a place in Steve’s life that Eddie will humbly step aside for, but like. Eddie and Robin are chill. They’ve bonded about being little baby queers in bumfuck Indiana, there’s a connection there, but she’d given him a look so full of disgust that afternoon that it had thrown Eddie for a loop. He has no idea what that’s about.

But Steve had seemed more settled. Centered, even, and while the quiet joy he’s used to seeing in his baby hasn’t fully returned, he doesn’t seem as silently devastated when he thinks Eddie isn’t looking. 

It’s something, and he’ll take what he can get.

By the time Tuesday rolls around, he thinks maybe they can just move past whatever weirdness had consumed them the last few days. He’s already making plans for the weekend - maybe he’ll take Steve up to Indy and go back to the bar they’d visited in the fall that Steve had loved. He’d gotten hit on by what seemed like every man in the building, but his boy loves attention and more than deserves it, so Eddie can suffer through watching it - especially when it means he gets to pull him close under all those wandering eyes.

These thoughts get him through the day. A couple of people called out, and he wonders briefly why it seems so extra busy at the store, why they’re so short-staffed, but he shrugs it off - he won’t pretend to know the ins and outs of the Hawkins music scene. 

By the time he gets home, he’s exhausted. He debates just crashing, but no - he’s behind on planning, and if he doesn’t get his notes cleared up tonight, he’ll put it off until he has no time to get them down in a way that’s coherent. He’ll still pull a kickass storyline out, obviously, but it’ll lack that certain je ne sais quoi that makes it an Eddie Munson Hellfire Special. 

So he heats up some food and scarfs it down while standing in the kitchen, wishing he were with Steve because his baby’s in a cooking mood lately and whatever he would make would blow this can of Chef Boyardee right outta the damn water. But he’ll see him soon, he’s sure, and he lets his vague plans for Steve carry him to his bedroom where he tosses himself into a chair.

He snags his latest notebook and flips to an empty page, snatching up a pen and tapping it rapidly on the desk. He runs through the last session in his head, reminding himself where they’re all at.

Mike was holding his own in battle while Jeff was trying to revive Dustin, Lucas was making a convincing argument about using Gareth’s goblin character as a projectile, and Eddie’s mulling over how to make that sound badass and not just fucking ridiculous as he writes the date in the top right corner of the page. He taps the tip of the pen to the first line on the sheet, ready to start scrawling in his chicken scratch, when he stops. Frowns.

Looks at the date again.

Squints at it.

Because surely - no. 

Oh, fuck. Oh Jesus H. Christ holy fucking shit, no.

But it glares back at him in its righteous fury, bold and bright against the page in his own messy handwriting, the ink deep red and accusing.

February 14.

It’s fucking Valentine’s day.

“FUCK.”

Panic squeezes his chest and his heart drops out of his ass as he scrambles to his feet, tangling in the legs of the chair and almost going sprawling over the carpet. He rights himself, barely, snagging his jacket off the bed and shrugging it on.

No fucking wonder Steve had looked so disappointed, so hurt. Eddie forgot his baby’s favorite holiday of the fucking year.

And it’s not that he forgot, he thinks desperately. That’s not what happened. He has plans. He has a song he’s been working on and a florist he was planning on calling and chocolates he was going to buy - dark, because that’s Steve’s favorite, and with cherries, because Steve fucking loves cherries and Eddie knows this because he’s a good fucking boyfriend. He knows when Valentine’s Day is. It’s not like it fucking moves. He knew it was coming, knew February was creeping along at a steady pace, knew the fourteenth was approaching. 

It just didn’t click, is all. Dates don’t fall in line for him like they do for a lot of people. He struggles to remember schedules, always has, due dates and important days and holidays, those are no exception, though Eddie desperately wishes they were.

He pats his pocket, hears the jingle of his keys and tears out of the house and throws himself into his van. 

God, no wonder Robin was looking at him like he was a monster. He is. He made Steve sad, and if there’s anything Robin Buckley will never allow or forgive, it’s someone hurting Steve. Fuck, he’s going to have to grovel to her so fucking hard.

Not that that’s his priority. Might not even be something he needs to worry about if Steve doesn’t forgive him for being the dumbest person on the fucking planet. No, he has to get to Steve’s house, has to apologize, has to explain. Has to make it up to him.

one more part!! still working on it 💕

edit: part 3!

people that asked to be tagged: @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zerokrox-blog @m-owo-n

[glitchy-anime-fan]

This might be just me, maybe I’m missing something, but I feel like some people who criticise EPIC!Odysseus for killing an infant but drawing the line at sleeping with Circe might not be taking into consideration how literally every event Odysseus has face since Troy has affected him as a person and how much guilt he’s continually facing.

To preface; THIS IS NOT ME HATING ON OTHER FANS!! I’m not trying to bully anyone or make fun of anyone, this is just something that has been in my head and I need to rant about it. This also only pertains to EPIC’s depiction of Odysseus, not any other interpretation of the character/story!

[minor grammatical edits made on 2/25/2024)

I saw a discussion on here the other day where the parties involved were talking about the changes made between the original Homeric story and EPIC. One of the main points of contention that I remember was how one of them said it rubbed them the wrong way that Odysseus was fine with killing an infant but didn’t want to sleep with Circe. I can totally understand why this may be an odd choice of morality to make, however, we have to keep in mind that the Odysseus from the Troy Saga is VERY different than the Odysseus in the Circe saga. Troy Saga Odysseus appears to be far more confident in himself and his plans; one could even argue that he’s a bit cocky. As stated by Odysseus in the ocean saga, NONE of his own men died in the battle which would add to Odysseus’ confidence and pride. This is vastly different than the grief stricken Odysseus later in the story, but more on that later.

Now the infant scene in question doesn’t necessarily set in stone Odysseus’ moral/ethical code; one could say the situation itself is an ethical dilemma (a problem with no one right answer). Odysseus is told by Zeus, king of the gods, that if he doesn’t kill Hector’s baby than Odysseus’ entire family (perhaps even kingdom) is in grave danger. However, Odysseus doesn’t make a decision right away, I’m mean the entire second song of the saga is Odysseus mulling over his options; kill an infant or risk his families safety. Neither option is preferable and I think “Just a Man” is meant to show that Odysseus isn’t a man who would readily kill a child, no questions asked, just because he was told to. In “The Infant and the Horse” Odysseus is ready to comply until he discovers that the “foe” he’s meant to kill is an infant. I mean, he literally pleads with Zeus to give him another option;

[ODYSSEUS, ZEUS]

I could raise him as my own (He will burn your house and throne)

Or send him far away from home (He'll find you wherever you go)

Make sure his past is never known (The gods will make it known)

I'd rather bleed for ya, down on my knees for ya (He's bringing you down on your knees for ya)

I'm begging please

Oh, this is the will of the gods

Please don't make me do this, don't make me do this

This part alone shows that Odysseus is, in fact, NOT fine with killing a child. Again, the second song in the saga is Odysseus going over his options and even asks for forgiveness when he finally makes his decision. I don’t know about you all, but I don’t think someone who’s okay with killing a child would ask for forgiveness. In this situation it’s very likely that Odysseus made the choice to protect his family and kingdom above all else, which I feel like is a valid choice in this situation. Odysseus was told, by a god, that him and his family would be killed should the baby live, I highly doubt Odysseus at this point was readily willing to try and call Zeus’ bluff.

It’s also not like the action didn’t affect Odysseus later. Again, I’m sure someone who wouldn’t have a guilty conscience about such a heinous act would ask for forgiveness. Similarly, two songs later in “Open Arms”, Polites brings up Odysseus’ guilt at the end when he says “I see in your face, there is so much guilt inside your heart”. Odysseus is clearly guilty about what he’s done, once again reinforcing that he is not “okay with killing an infant”. You can also pick up on it in the way Jay sings Odysseus’ songs following “Just a Man”; Odysseus seems to be more distracted or distant likely due to the shock of his own actions.

Similarly, we have to take into consideration literally every new traumatic incident Odysseus is faced with between the Cyclops and Ocean sagas. In the Cyclops Saga, Polyphemus kills a large number of Odysseus’ crew which would make this the first heavy loss Odysseus’ army would have faced since the war. I can imagine that this loss would have been a huge blow to Odysseus’ pride given the fact that none of his men died in the war. Similarly, since Odysseus is their captain and king, it’s fair to assume that Odysseus may see the deaths as his fault adding to his guilt.

Not only does he lose many in his crew, Odysseus also loses his best friend Polites which greatly effects Odysseus throughout the rest of the musical. In “Keep Your Friends Close” when the crew is scheming to open the bag of wind from Aeolus, they say “Everything's changed since Polites,” referring to how much Polites’ death not only effected Odysseus but also the crew. Odysseus becomes more and more closed off and distrusting which makes sense since it seems Polites was the one that mainly pushed Odysseus to be more open. This is another death that Odysseus can tack onto the growing list of reasons his guilt is eating him alive.

Side note: Odysseus also looses the support of Athena, his patron goddess following “My Goodby”. Athena has been someone who we can assume (given Athena’s story during “Warrior of the mind”) has been guiding Odysseus since he was a child so, even if Odysseus is no longer happy with Athena’s view on being a good warrior, it likely hurt him on some level to loose her. We have to keep in mind; Odysseus also thought of Athena as a friend not just a goddess and has thought this way since he met Athena. If we assume that Athena and Odysseus have never had a fight this bad until “My Goodby” then I think it’s fair to say that the outcome of the fight would negatively impact Odysseus. He may be too prideful to admit it at the time, but I can only imagine how awful it would feel to loose the support of a friend and patron deity at the same time.

I think one of the biggest blows yet for Odysseus comes during “Ruthlessness” when Poseidon and/or the Laestrygonians sink and kill everyone but Odysseus and his immediate crew mates (as in, the crew on Odysseus ship as apposed to those on the other twelve ships). As I mentioned earlier, throughout the ten years Odysseus and his army were in Troy not one of his men died. This changed when they faced Polyphemus, and only worsens when Poseidon attacks. Odysseus goes from having a crew of 600 (at the start of the musical) to 43 following this attack. Not only does he loose nearly all his men, it’s directly Odysseus’ fault it happened in the first place. Poseidon tells Odysseus directly that they “totally could have avoided all this had [Odysseus] just killed [Poseidon’s] son”.

Had Odysseus just listened to Athena at the time and killed Polyphemus, there would have been no one left to tell Poseidon about the attack; the god likely wouldn’t have known. Likewise, had Odysseus not let his hubris get the better of him and not told Polyphemus his full name, even if Poseidon found out his son had died or was left blind, he wouldn’t have known who did it. The whole situation is directly Odysseus’ fault and Poseidon is very clear in letting him know that. This obviously is going to add to Odysseus’ guilt exponentially since this time it truly was his own actions that lead to this scenario. Not to mention that had Odysseus just apologised, Poseidon might have been gracious to the crew.

Now there’s no saying what that would look like for Poseidon, maybe he would have only sunk one or two ships or maybe he was lying, who knows. The main point is that Odysseus was given another chance to get out of this peacefully, but he can’t swallow his pride long enough to say “I’m sorry”. Odysseus instead tries to talk his way out of it and Poseidon isn’t having it; this is another instance of Odysseus’ actions resulting casualties. All of this happens before the Circe saga mind you.

So let’s review all the instances that would be causing Odysseus guilt so far:

He’s been forced to kill a child to save his family and kingdom

He’s lost his best friend and a chunk of his crew to Polyphemus

He’s lost the support of his patron goddess who he has also seen as a friend since childhood

He’s lost 90% of his crew (give or take) due to his own actions

You cannot look at this and tell me that it would not greatly affect your mental health in any way. Odysseus is being weighed down by an immense about of grief and guilt as the story continues. It gets to be so much that in Puppeteer Odysseus tells Eurylochus that while he would like to leave Circe’s island, he can “hardly sleep now knowing everything [they’ve] done”, directly referring to the guilt that keeps weighing on his mind. By this point in the story Odysseus is so wracked with guilt that he would rather risk his own life to save the few men he has left that add anymore to his guilty conscience.

I see this as one reason why Odysseus rejects Circe’s advances. Odysseus went to save his men who were transformed because he already can’t sleep and doesn’t want to add any more guilt onto his mind. Do we really think he would change this stance just so he could sleep with a goddess? The thought of cheating on Penelope would likely cause Odysseus just as much guilt as leaving his men. This situation poses a similar dilemma to the very beginning of the story; Odysseus can either comply and free his men or not. In this moment Odysseus is in a lose-lose situation, however, he doesn’t let that stop him from trying to essentially create a third option that doesn’t add to his guilt.

And he’s successful this time.

Unlike he pleaded with Zeus, is seems that for one reason or another Odysseus is successful in pleading with Circe; he is able to create a third option for himself and his crew. He’s able to create a reality where his remaining crew survives and Odysseus doesn’t add anymore to his guilt.

Again, this is not about the original story, or other interpretations, this is solely based on what we know from EPIC. In short; Odysseus pleaded and begged with Zeus not to make him kill Astyanax, to give him a third peaceful option but failed. Odysseus is given a whole song about his own moral struggle in the options given to him and is then haunted by the guilt of his actions. He is then faced with the death of his crew due to his own actions, becoming not only a point of further guilt but also a shot at his pride. Odysseus looses Athena’s favour and looses Polities. While Odysseus may have begun to cave to Circe, I believe it was ultimately his love for his family and his desire to not add to his guilt that made him reject Circe.

Odysseus was never okay with killing an infant, he felt guilty likely from the moment he made his final decision. By the time he meets Circe, Odysseus would rather attempt to talk his way out (something that hasn’t actually worked till now) than add to his guilt. I’m truly not sure what I’m missing that, in the context of the musical, this isn’t obvious. Maybe it’s because I’m taking EPIC as its own story and not a one-to-one with the source material, who knows.

Sorry this got really long, I just needed to get it out somewhere before it plaques my mind anymore. Once again, I’m not trying to hate on anyone or bully anyone, this is just my own opinion on the matter!