#but he was very similar to AB in that 'perhaps a figure more to be admired than liked' sort of way?

[sepublic]

Manny Noceda Haunting the Narrative

We all speak of Caleb haunting the narrative, but what of Manny? Perhaps haunting isn’t the exact right word here, for its foreboding connotations; But he’s ultimately an unseen, unheard ghost whose influence can be felt. Whose absence is there, more clearly than others to be honest because we know that Luz had to have a father, it’s not ambiguous for witches like it is for humans.

From the very first scene, we have to wonder where Manny is if he’s not present during Luz’s conference but Camila is; He’s not even present for Luz to be sent off. He’s not mentioned or acknowledged.

But we have the book he gave Luz, the one that Luz is drawn back towards, and it’s what leads her to the Boiling Isles, and motivates her to stay there for her own sake. It’s what motivates Luz to think of herself, when by the second half of the show she begins to refuse that option as inherently selfish.

If Homesick had aired during S1B, we’d have gotten a glimpse of Manny, but specifically, curiously faceless; Until then, Luz sees a parental figure deteriorating from an incurable illness and is obsessed with handling it, offering medical advice to Eda at one point.

And in Yesterday’s Lie, there’s still no Manny or mention of him, but we see glimpses of his body without the face. And then finally, finally we get Reaching Out and realize; He died. There was no divorce, it’s not that Manny is dead to mother and daughter, only literally. He’s still very much alive to them, Luz is worried about paying tribute to him in that episode.

Camila mourns the loss of Manny, someone who was always better at her about being a weirdo, and without him she feels lost, falls back into what society demands of her, and in doing so hurts their daughter. She mourns that she misses him, but Camila can’t depend on Manny to be what Luz needs her to be; She’ll be Manny, for Luz but also herself too. And Luz herself struggles to be the unapologetic Manny as well, and must do it for herself especially.

It’s the way Manny recontextualizes everything about the Nocedas. It’s the way he haunts the narrative himself, because we noticed, we had to, we had to ask where he was. Why is he not there for Luz or Camila, would he support her, is Camila also struggling from his absence? We don’t need his face or voice or an outright flashback to feel and appreciate Manny’s influence (Though I would’ve loved one).

And in a way, it’s like Dana Terrace’s own father is doing the same; With it being confirmed that Dana’s dad gave her a copy of Pokémon Red before he died, you understand perfectly that Luz is Dana, Manny is her father. Dana still likes Pokémon to this day, she’s done crossover art with Pokémon and her own show.

When it came out, Pokemon was targeted by Evangelicals as evil, it was absurd; And we see the Conformatorium perform similar absurdities in the same first episode where Luz is shown to hold onto her father’s last gift, and her fight with the Conformatorium is her fight with the system that made Luz feel ashamed of Manny’s gift and the profound impact it had on her.

The villain of the show manipulates Luz and makes her think she’s just like him, something Luz acknowledges means being a selfish, destructive force; Unsurprisingly, the villain is a Puritan, the ancestor of evangelicals, who agrees on the similarities but not on these things being evil.

And between Caleb and Manny, perhaps Caleb is defined incorrectly when it comes to how he influences things. Because Caleb does not really motivate Belos, Belos always wanted to be a witch hunter before he could claim to be betrayed by Caleb, he did it for himself. He made Grimwalkers but still continues the harm unto and through them that Caleb stood against. Caleb failed to do anything with Belos, tbh, and all that is passed on are empty genes that a racist would obsess over, but never the spirit as Luz did with Manny.

But what about Caleb’s child? Manny is defined as a father to Luz. What about someone Caleb was a father to as well? His unborn child, the ancestor of Eda. Caleb was a wood carver who loved Flapjack, and the Clawthornes had a tradition of carving Palismen. Could it not be implied that Evelyn carried on his unseen and unheard, yet felt love to their child, born after the death? And this love for the isles and magic and Palismen was passed all the way down to Dell, and then Eda.

And it’s Eda who helps Luz, another human, embrace her love for the isles and magic and Palismen. Evelyn’s descendant helps another human. Luz sees Eda in Manny, she’s his successor as someone who’s present for Luz when Camila can’t always be. Eda loves wild magic and her Palisman, gives Owlbert more autonomy than other witches, and helps the Bat Queen arrange Palismen to find new partners. And what goes around comes around when Caleb’s contribution to Palismen, started by Flapjack, helps Flapjack find a new friend and set in motion events that would lead to the Clawthornes’ injustice being rectified.

I’ve seen people argue that Hunter being with Willow makes him a copy of Caleb, but in addition to Hunter’s arc being him not caring what he does or doesn’t resemble… I think maybe the true parallel to Caleb and Evelyn is Manny and Camila; Both came to Gravesfield, the father was a weirdo with an open mind. He died, the mother mourned, but he passed on something to a child, who would eventually pass it on to Luz herself as both stories and families converge.

So Evelyn and Caleb’s child haunts the narrative; They’re Luz in a sense. Manny haunts the narrative too, since the start. He is Caleb, and so he is Eda who carries that spirit. And he is Eda because she carries the spirit for Luz. Manny is Dana Terrace’s own father, who inspired her to keep being a weirdo, which led to this show. So not only is Manny more important to the narrative’s framing and focus as the main character’s father, whose absence motivates both a disconnect between mother and daughter that leads Luz to the isles, but also motivates Luz to stay?

In a way, Manny represents the father of the series, the father of the show that reflects Dana’s own experiences and beliefs. One could say he haunts Dana’s own life, except… Perhaps the word ‘haunt’ is incorrect. Because it has a negative connotation. Perhaps the word is Inspire; Manny may be dead, we may know little of Mr. Terrace or Manny himself. But we can say that Manny lived, because of his impact, his life had meaning and it always will. Something is in motion, so we all know and understand ask what, or who set it that way.

[fideidefenswhore]

ngl thomas boleyn wanting elizabeth to get his lands got me. i wish people gave him a chance and didn't act like he was some monster. so why didn't elizabeth get them? and is it true henry "seized" hever once thomas' mom was dead? shouldn't that have gone to mary?

It got me, as well.

I'm of two minds on his reputation, however, as far as that goes...I don't think he deserves to be villainized to the extent he has been (he was human, and protective and proud of his family, and cared for them, as several details of evidence suggest, such as Anne's letter from 1513 which he kept 'perfectly preserved'), but also, I do like...get it? He was a flawed man, he was not above throwing his weight around when he felt challenged or disrespected, and his lack of support for his literal daughter when she was widowed (until his other daughter and the King intervened to pressurize him to provide more financial support) cannot be defended.

Also while I do love Mackay's biography and believe it was illuminating, my take was that the apologism went too far. While Boleyn did not sit on the actual jury which condemned two of his children, he did sit upon the one which condemned the lower-ranking men of 'adultery with the Queen'. This was his choice, as much as the narrative of "refuse the King at your own peril" (or, indignatio princips mors est, iyw) remains strong, more often (until it came to issues of supremacy), one refused the King at the loss of their own status, favour, preferment, perhaps wealth and land.

Tl;dr "Thomas Boleyn did not have a choice" gives me the same feeling of when "AB, JS, KH, KP" (sometimes even COA and Anne of Cleves...weirdly) "didn't have a choice in marrying Henry VIII" is said. I'm wary of minimizing the agency and choice of, particularly, those of the highest echelons of society, esp. when we're dealing with an era where victims of brutality of comparatively little agency (Mark Smeaton, etc.) also numbered significantly. The Tudor nobility had more access to choice than most people of their time.

As far as Hever, I don't believe it was seized after the death of Margaret Butler, it does seem to have gone to Mary, although I don't really have a firm grasp on the details (like, my understanding was that it was granted to Anne of Cleves, so...?):

"With no heir, Thomas' properties reverted to the Crown, including his earldoms. Prior to his death, it seemed that Thomas had begun to reconcile with his only living daughter, Mary. Within weeks [of the death of Thomas Boleyn], Thomas' daughter Mary Stafford and her husband [...] received much of Boleyn's property portfolio, including Hever and Rochford Hall." Among the Wolves of Court: The Untold Story of Thomas and George Boleyn, Lauren Mackay

The official Hever Castle website, however, states that James Boleyn inherited Hever and sold it to the crown in 1540 (which would explain how it could be granted to Anne of Cleves, I suppose, although it seems like there's a gap here...perhaps Mary sold it to her uncle, who then sold it to the crown?)

It was specifically Thomas Boleyn's lands in Essex he had wanted to grant to his granddaughter ('begun' to reconcile is maybe key here, he had, for one, not really been supportive of Mary since she was widowed in 1528, and only was when pressurized to do so, & usual precedent would suggest they should have gone to Henry Carey, but then, Elizabeth had not been reinstated into the succesion by the time he made this will, which was probably a factor in his decision, there was no guarantee she'd be entitled to any lands after the King's death in that context); and I haven't had much luck in finding out if they were ever granted to Elizabeth once she reached her majority. The only mention of her ever even holding any property in Essex (while 'Lady Elizabeth') I managed to find was dated during Edward VI's reign and refers to an exchange, not an inheritance:

"In the reissued patent letters of April 1551, Elizabeth lost her Northamptonshire holdings of Apethorpe, Wadehowe, Woodnewton, Tansor, and Yarwell, which as noted earlier had formed something resembling a local concentration of properties. In exchange, she acquired the nearly inaccessible manors of Norton Bawson in Devon and Bysleigh in Gloucestershire, along with some small manors in Berkshire, Buckinghamshire, and Essex." From Heads of Household to Heads of State. The Preaccession Households of Mary and Elizabeth Tudor, 1516-1558. by J.L. McIntosh.

[anattemptatmeaning]

You're the Only Friend I Need a Trobed fic

Author's Notes: Wow I have been very inactive and I'm also going on vacation so I rushed to finish this, I'll beautify this post along with my BT fanfic later. I saw this beautiful Trobed artwork on Tumblr by @greatredangel and it made me think of the song Ribs by Lorde. Then I visualized them dancing at a bar to the song while Abed is having bittersweet thoughts. It became this. Hope y'all enjoy Troy and Abed in a ba-ar! Again?

Also I just realized really late that Ribs was released three years after Mixology Certification aired but oh well, I love the song and I try meta-referencing my misstep in the fic lmao. Comment and feedback is well-appreciated! This is my first time writing Community fanfic and I hope I didn't screw up, especially with writing Abed. He's the best. They're all just the best, I love this show so much. Comments and feedback are appreciated! This whole thing is just wholesome romantic fluff with very light angst that gets resolved anyway, no trigger warnings! This made me so happy to write!

The Trobed artwork that inspired this: https://www.tumblr.com/greatredangel/751692320042287104/youre-the-only-one-who-understands?source=share

Ribs by Lorde (which I encourage you to listen while reading): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b7pE8AG1jjE

My Trobed companion playlist for this fic: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4IgAlyGazQxVwHcmZyIdah

Someone stormed away.

That’s how it always happened.

Abed didn’t choose to have more interest in dissecting the implications of Farscape being an influence on the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the ragtag character dynamics of the crew of the Moya , or the suspicion that Greendale was headed in a similar direction to the fourth season which, frankly, he might have preferred to get interrupted before speaking about.

Not that he had a choice. One of the few people who understood his references was interested in something more…carnal. 

But Abed knew what he liked, what he thought, what he was good at. And being straightforward with it, absorbing and deconstructing every little detail? 

It was what passion was. At least for him.

The inner workings of bumbling off-duty patrons drowning their daily sorrows into looking to score, on the other hand? Not at all. 

He did see it coming. He was all but waiting for the rejection. But it was fun talking about Farscape .

While it lasted.

Nevertheless, it was Monday. And as expected, he was just fine. It was an odd night.

His thoughts turned to Troy. With the study group more amped up than usual due to the alcohol, he realized Troy got left alone due to the ensuing drama. 

Thus ruining his birthday.

“Hey, Troy?” 

Troy looked at him. Abed felt that rush of energy that always came whenever he did. “Yeah, Abed?” It was cliche, but the birthday surprise trope was still a classic. “There’s something I forgot to give you for your birthday. Happy belated birthday, by the way.”

A surprised smile lit up Troy’s face. “Really? This is too much, man. I’m still losing it over Kickpuncher.”

“I figured. With the abundance of alcohol in the study group, perhaps an easygoing, intimate night out on the town as Troy and Abed should make for a nicer birthday. Shall we?”

Troy clapped his hands. “Let’s roll.”

They did the handshake. Their handshake.

Abed was not a driver.

He legally was, but avoided it unless it was an occasion where he absolutely had, or even more rarely, wanted to.

This was one such occasion.  

“No way, is this the same bar?” Troy gaped slightly, moving forward in his seat as he recognized Flannahan’s Hole.

“The second chance trope is a bit stale, but a well-done redemption arc works wonders,” Abed confirmed as he parked the car.

Troy laughed as he and Abed got out and headed inside. It looked exactly the same as it did on Troy’s birthday: just like any other bar, albeit apparently the least offensive of them if Jeff and Britta’s word was anything to go by.

To Abed’s relief though, the man from earlier wasn’t there.

“Abed?” Troy asked. Abed immediately recognized his hesitating tone, and felt something akin to a pang in his heart.

“Troy?” Abed knew he talked quickly, but his response was a bit faster and more urgent than usual. If Troy was nervous or on edge, Abed might as well have ruined another birthday for him.

“I…don’t really want to drink,” Troy began, taking a breath and looking to the ground, gathering his thoughts. Then Troy locked eyes with him.

Momentarily, nothing existed except Troy.

“When I was ordering my drink, I…I saw how out of it everyone was, staring off into space, not able to feel much of anything, not able to do much of anything…we just didn’t look happy.” Troy’s tone was candid, kind, mournful, his usual cheerful energy replaced by a more careful, concerned tone. 

“So, I didn’t drink. I got everyone and drove us home.”

Abed remembered that as the other members of the study group were drowning figuratively or literally in their personal misery, Troy was the one to bring them back together. 

“Sorry,” Troy said with a bit of uncertainty, embarrassed when he shouldn’t have to feel bad because Abed reminded him of a day he had to hold everyone else together.

When Troy deserved one where the roles were reversed.

Abed swallowed. He wanted to say only the best possible words.

“Me neither, honestly,” he started. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s your birthday.”

Troy smiled, the previous moment forgotten. “Thanks, Abed.”

A new song started playing overhead in the bar. Abed squinted his eyes slightly. 

The drink you spilt all over me…

He undoubtedly knew movies better than music, but the song felt out of place for some reason. Was it a continuity error? He hadn’t heard it on the radio before. Weird. 

My mom and dad let me stay home…

“Do you want to dance?” Troy’s question shook Abed out of his thoughts, and he looked at Troy, calm yet eager about his suggestion. Abed couldn’t help but oblige, and the song piqued his interest the longer he listened to it.

”Sure.”

How you wish it would be all the time…

There wasn’t a whole lot of space within the bar, so Abed and Troy just moved close to a few empty seats. Unlike some of their choreographed or improvised dance routines which were occasionally elaborate, they kept it simple due to the nature of the event, and the difference this particular song had from their usual background music.

It drives you crazy getting old…

Abed was coolly and steadily hopping up and down, raising his left, then right leg to the beat. Troy took to clapping to the beat as he got into the song. 

Abed didn’t have many great memories as a kid.

This dream isn't feeling sweet, we're reeling through the midnight streets…

But right here, right now, dancing alone with Troy, he knew.

This. This was what childhood was supposed to be.

Doing whatever you felt like doing, not worrying about anything else, just having fun.

So what if he was only truly living it right now, as a film student in the most chaotic community college in the world?

He was living it. And for however long it would last?

It feels so scary, getting old....

He would enjoy it.

Abed hadn’t realized he had his eyes closed the whole time since he started dancing until he opened them to look straight at Troy.

Everything else went still.

Troy had a smile of pure ecstasy and euphoria and was moving completely of his own accord, not trying to impress, not having to try anything , just…dancing, and enjoying it.

We can talk it so good, we can make it so divine…

His hips swayed perfectly as he bounced to the beat, his knees smoothly kicking out as he bobbed up and down, not breaking a sweat. His head twisted from side to side, carefree and peaceful. He moved his elbows and hands up and down rhythmically with ease. And of course, that smile.

Has Abed seen Troy dance before? Many times.

But none so picturesque as this exact moment.

Then Troy opened his eyes. If things were still before, it wasn’t comparable to this.

I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, the minds we had, the minds we had…

Troy’s eyes were a bit more serious, curious, and earnest. He stepped closer to Abed, still perfectly on beat.

How all the thoughts, how all the thoughts, moved ‘round our heads, moved ‘round our heads…

Abed was still slightly moving his legs to the beat, but he was focused on stepping as close as Troy saw fit.

I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, the minds we had, the minds we had…

They kept moving closer. They didn’t notice the bar patrons staring.

It’s not enough to feel the lack, I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, I want ‘em!

And their lips touched. Their eyes closed as they danced more slowly now, their arms now touching each other. Supporting each other.

He’d never let him fall.

You’re the only friend I need, sharing beds like little kids…

They just stayed there, now only slowly moving from side to side once every measure of the song, their grip on each other soft not to overwhelm, but steady, never to let the other go.

And laughing till our ribs get tough, but that will never be enough… “YEAH!” yelled people in the background as applause and cheers were heard, the first time he had focused on the outside world in a bit. Abed rarely ever had applause and cheers for him, neither did he seek it, but in this specific moment, it invigorated him. It did the same for Troy, as they briefly removed their lips to take a breath before diving back in, emboldened.

You’re the only friend I need, sharing beds like little kids…

Troy and Abed released each other, parting with powerful, slow breaths. Troy was staring with him, those same earnest eyes, but with total adoration and awe.

Based on his expression, Abed knew he shared the equivalent facial expression.

And laughing till our ribs get tough, but that will never be enough... “Good enough?” Abed asked Troy at the song’s end. Speaking to him was always comforting, but it felt like it had escalated to a whole new level now.

“Never better,” Troy answered in the most angelic, warmest tone Abed had ever heard.

They basked in the joy of the rest of the bar, all of them happy for them, for Troy and Abed. Troy laughed, equal parts blushing and grateful. Abed nodded at them in equally thankful acknowledgement. 

As they walked out, Abed caught the eye of the guy from earlier. He must have come in after them.

Compared to his more irritable, sour impression upon their first meeting, the bar guy was glad, sincere. He had a gentle, knowing smile. There were a variety of meanings he could derive from his face. First of all, he felt bad for his behavior during the last meeting. Secondly, he was happy for him and Abed. 

“Hey, I see you're going through stuff, and I'm sorry I didn't see that earlier,” the bar guy started a bit awkwardly. Then he seemed to be emboldened himself as well. “But I get it now, and I'm happy for you. For the both of you."

It was validating, to say the least. 

“Thank you,” Abed responded. “It was a better night.”

“I can see,” the bar guy giggled, looking at the two a bit sheepishly. “Okay, okay, we get it,” Troy was trying like mad to calm down, but he was clearly bashful.

As Abed drove the two away from the bar, they were quiet for a long time, processing the moment they just had.

Troy broke the silence first.

“Abed…is it okay if I want more moments like that?”

Abed had never felt so at peace in his life.

“I was going to ask the same thing,” he said in a soft tone he didn’t even know he was capable of.

Troy beamed yet again, and initiated their running gag. Abed immediately caught on. “Troy and Abed to-ge-ther!”

[culpeppercheckers721]

Turn Week 2024– Day 7: Peacetime

Somehow my dumbass didn’t make the connection until now that yesterday was the second to last day of Turn week because duh, there are only 7 days in a week, but still, very sad it’s the end of Turn week!! 🥲 This has been very fun to experience for the first time, and already I’ll look forward to the next week we have like this ;)

Anyways, for the prompt, peacetime!

This could be interpreted differently depending on how people want to focus more on the finale and/or historical events, but I wanted to find something of an in between here instead. So, similarly to my modern AU post, I hit you with some post-war headcanons, surely unoriginal but hopefully no less sentimental for it:

- Caleb is a frequent visitor of the Woodhulls, and even though he might not see him everyday, he has a good relationship with Thomas as “Uncle Brewster”

- Ben finally has just a bit more leisure time and he almost doesn’t know what to do with it, and then someone probably suggests he pick up a book, and perhaps when he finally starts reading more frequently again he gets increased inspiration to write his memoir ;)

- Most of the ring has periodic reunions, at least annually, where they can all get together not to discuss their spy work in the war, but simply to enjoy themselves and see each other again

- Since Abraham was the only one who really knew him, he’s always the one to suggest inviting Robert before anyone else has (since, after all, he lives even closer than some of the others end up living)

- Though he probably feels reluctant to go, especially the first couple times, Robert probably pushes himself to do it and in that time gets to know everyone better, perhaps finding an unlikely friend in Caleb who always seemed intrigued by him, as well as Anna who could be equally compatible

- Abraham probably tries to get him to come to other family holidays as well, perhaps to compensate for his guilt over that disaster of a Thanksgiving that one time (meaning perhaps Samuel is a part of those gatherings too, making him all the more inclined to invite Abe himself over to Oyster Bay again despite it all)

- I’d say their connection could have changed quite a bit, if the best out of three scene was any judge, considering Robert can finally be less on-guard and chronically stressed by the threat of getting discovered once all their spy craft is done for, and perhaps they’d have a “Dear Fellow Traveler”-like dynamic

- And not to say they kissed after their draughts game but they kissed after their draughts game

- Anyways Mary and Caleb probably start to think of each other as odd family figures as well

- When it gets to be around Christmas to New Year’s, Ben never escapes Caleb’s teasing about the time he fell into the fucking Delaware

- (Perhaps he waited until after the war to tease him about it in case it was too soon. Then again, Caleb will be Caleb)

- And alright this may be even further from canon given the wording of Abe’s letter and all, but I’d like to imagine, in some idealistic scenario, Abe and Anna still occasionally get to see each other just to be genuine friends. Totally get why Mary might still not have wanted that to happen in canon, of course, but still, I think they deserved a chance to mend their friendship, especially when I picture how close they could’ve been as children. And for some reason, similar to Caleb, I feel like Anna could be a ‘cool aunt’ to Thomas.

Anyways, oh wow we’ve reached the end!

I seriously cannot even tell y’all enough how fun this Turn week has been for me, definitely feeling the fandom love :) 💕 Already can’t wait to do it again, and I hope you all have a wonderful rest of your July!

[plaindangan]

After Graduation, most of the students went off to do their own things. But after a few years without seeing each other, they organized a party reunion.

There were 3 students that stood out the most:

Makoto, who looked older but still cuter, giving off massive 'Stay at Home Malewife' vibes. (Though the same can't be said about the Leviathan hidden between his legs)

Hajime: His chest grew, and a bit of muscle could be seen from his tight suit, not to mention the growing shaved beard that was plastered on his face.

Lastly Shuichi: BOY OH BOY, it seemed God had his favorites, Shuichi still looked slim and feminine, but his emo look gave him that handsome and 'mature' vibe, he was like a combination of borderline femboy and sexy masculinity (something that a certain Pianist would love to 'inspect' in further detail)

Disclaimer: Below is content that's more on the racy side! If not for you, you probably shouldn't read!

"You certainly have changed quite a bit, Makoto?" Kyoko said, looking at her old lucky friend with those keen eyes of hers. He was wearing a dark green hoodie, that resembled his signature one, and a pair of tight black pants covered by a a long waist apron. He still the same height, but that warm, loving spirit, was still there if matured into wiser man. Seeing his old pal, Makoto was in high spirits and hugged her.

"You too! But its great to see you again!" he said. Being with Makoto always brought out a smile from Kyoko. Well, that and feeling that 'something' else was also glad to see her. With a smirk, she raised an eyebrow.

"Wearing the apron because those pants are too small to fully cover up your 'perk'?" Blushing, all Makoto could do was look to the side embarrassed. Patting the guy on the head, she managed to quietly lead him to a quiet, part of the building, inside a closet. She knows just how to treat that python of his~

As for Hajme, he was having a similar problem concerning his tight shirt. He had grown so many of his dress shirts that the only one he could ever really find was a white one that was still showing off plenty of cleavage. He had hoped his jacket could be used to help mitigate such issue.

Too bad it didn't work as Chiaki immediately had her eyes glued on the rock hard abs. He sighed in embarrassment. "Y-yeah, figured they stick out like crazy."

With a reassuring smile, Chiaki embraced him and placed her head on his chest. "There's nothing wrong with that. You should be proud since this means you really take care of yourself well, even now. So instead of thinking 'should I keep this hidden' think more 'perhaps I should expose them more!" Hajime's face went red as Chiaki started to trace light circles on his chest and even kiss his bearded face.

When they both got back to his place, he would expose them all he'd liked for her!

Finally, there was Shuichi. A mix between both worlds dressed in a black dress shirt and matching paints. Radiating both handsomeness and beauty that him made the envy of of anyone eye. But it was Kaede, who took the first move once she saw her dear detective again.

"Wh-wha!? K-Kaede!? I-It's good to see you, but...what are you doing!?" he said, his pale face blushing incredibly red as his crush tossed him over her shoulders and was marching away to one of the empty classrooms.

"Isn't it obvious?~ You've changed so much, I just need to catch up with you. One..." Smack! Her hand slapped his ample, rather girlish, rump and looked delighted at every to see it still jiggled even now. "On one~"

With a soft, lewd, moan from Shuichi's mouth, it was pretty much the single that their 'catch-up' was going to be long, hard and very, very, very, dirty~

[starry-blue-echoes]

So this is my first time asking someone something on their blog BUT I REALLY WANTED TO KNOW

How would Jolyne come into play with you Vampiric Joot au?

Does he never meet his wife? Or if he does would she know? Would this be a reason for Jotaro leaving Her and Jolyne behind?

PLEASE I NEED ANSWERS 🙏

OKAY SO

ILL ADMIT IM STILL TRYING TO FIGURE THIS OUT TOO

Currently the best working idea I have is something like this:

So it’s been a couple years at this point since he’d been turned, and maybe Holly gets into a minor accident. Nothing life threatening, but definitely a “oh this injury usually comes with older age” type thing and it’s enough for the full meaning of his agelessness to finally hit. Sure, normally this wouldn’t have meant much, its expected that kids outlive their parents, but knowing that the outliving is because of something unnatural, something monstrous…… well, that changes things

And this puts Jotaro in a not great mental place for a bit. After all, currently the sole reason he’s still able to live his life one day at a time is for her. And he…… genuinely doesn’t know what he would do with his life after she’s gone. Is it even worth living if she’s just going to die anyways? Should he even try??? He’s not even supposed to be alive after all, he should’ve died in Egypt

For weeks he ponders these things, walking for hours every night, leaving the house as soon as the sun is out of sight and just barely making it back when its deadly rays light the Earth once more

Sometimes he wonders what would happen if he stayed out for a bit longer

He never does, stopped only by the thought of his mother’s grief

He never really has anywhere in particular he travels to either. Anywhere he can reach and return from by the time the sun rises is fair game, and with super speed, stamina, and the ability to stop time that is very far

He finds himself drawn to tall places though. Bridges, towers, buildings, taller than average trees, you name it, he’s probably climbed it. Sometimes, when it’s abandoned and unnoticeable enough, he’ll even jump off instead of climbing down for those fleeting moments of weightlessness and freedom. Besides, it’s not like the fall’s going to kill him. At worst it’s a minor inconvenience

and what if during one of these times, he met someone.

A woman, an exchange student from America to be specific, who naturally had no idea he was immortal and thus was naturally very concerned.

Perhaps they meet a few more times. They talk, they grow closer, meet more and more and as the months pass by they even begin to fall in love

But it’s still so, so early into Jotaro’s life as a vampire. He still fears himself, still hates himself, and most importantly he fears loosing the people he loves. And that spark he began to feel for Jolyne’s mom? It terrified him

He stopped showing up after that.

Naturally and understandably, Jolyne’s mom gets pretty upset about this. Unfortunately for her though…… there isn’t really a whole lot she can do about it. She never got Jotaro’s last name, and he didn’t actually live in the area so she couldn’t just accidentally meet him again. She still tries to do some research to find him, but comes up completely empty. Eventually she gives up her search, returns to America and it’s like the whole thing never even happened

…….except for the fact that upon her return she learns that she’s now pregnant

However, unlike Giorno’s mother, she actually pays attention to and cares for her child, and thus ends up noticing Jolyne’s…… differences. The sun sensitivity, the preference for meats, sharp teeth, the slightly enhanced physical abilities, the regeneration, the list goes on and on and after a few years she is able to put together the facts and realizes her daughter is a vampire….. or at least something similar

On one hand, she’s VERY pissed that Jotaro never said anything about this and just up and disappeared on her without even a note or goodbye. However on the other, this explains so much about him and she does understand why he wouldn’t just say it, plus she doubted he knew she was pregnant(this one was technically hopeful thinking since she had no real was of knowing, and if she was proved wrong then she’d be even more pissed(dw she’s right, Jotaro has no idea))

So now she’s doing her best to raise a super natural daughter as a single mother while also doing everything in her power to keep said daughter secret and safe

Jolyne naturally knew she wasn’t “normal,” and while her mom didn’t talk about her father much(partially out of genuinely not knowing much) she was able to piece together that it mostly likely came from him. This time around she’s less bitter about him not being around enough and more about the fact that he just. Straight up doesn’t exist. Her mom admittedly does try to mitigate this, but only because of the fact that as far as she knew Jotaro had no idea Jolyne existed despite her best efforts to find him one more(again, also true Jotaro has no idea)

As for Part 6……

When Jolyne had been told she’d been sent something by her father, she’d been incredibly confused. She didn’t have a father. She still accepts the locket and it’s strange metal shard, accidentally pricking herself in the process (and minor note, unlike canon this locket doesn’t have a picture inside of it)

And then a few days when he VISITS...... she's even more surprised. She expected an older man, not someone who looked young enough to be her brother. Naturally she doesn’t trust him, she’s never even seen this man before, and technically she doesn’t even know if they’re even actually related.

The escape would go mostly the same I’d imagine, just this time with Jotaro’s gunshot wounds mostly being a distraction. He still gets his memory and Stand yoinked because of the distraction, but at least he’d not bleeding out so...... yay?

Jolyne also gets to see her comatose father begin to crumble to dust in the sun which Was Definitely An Experience

As for why Jotaro showed up and knew Jolyne existed....... honestly the best thing I got is the Foundation starting to look into Strange Possible Stand Phenomena of the past and also more of what Dio did in his spare, discovering Pucci, and somewhere in all that research learning “oh shit, Jotaro has a kid”

Why did Pucci target her? .........idk, maybe Fate did some fuckery which led to him learning before anyone else

[theoreticalconstruct]

FF Kiss Battle fic - Bending the Rules

The Final Fantasy Kiss Battle is happening again for 2024 and this so far is the only fill I've been able to come up with. Please feel free to stop by and leave (or fill) some prompts.

(Appropriately enough, the Multiamory March day 1 prompt was Kiss, so...)

Title: Bending the Rules Fandom: Final Fantasy X Characters: Auron/Braska/Jecht Rating: T?

A game of spin the bottle doesn't go as Jecht or Auron expected. (Braska, on the other hand...)

AO3 link here.

---

"When will this thing stop?"

Auron's gruffness usually would've prompted a few choice words from Jecht. In this case, though, he just shook his head. "Good question."

That bottle had been spinning longer than any bottle had a right to spin, Jecht though. He knew he had a good arm, obviously, but he didn't think he was that strong. Had Rin given them a trick bottle? But why would anyone make a bottle that wouldn't stop spinning?

Auron was staring at it, eyes narrowed, as if he could force physics into working the way it ought to work. Braska, on the other hand, just looked between the two of them as he patiently waited. His smile was all innocence, and that probably fooled Auron pretty damn well, but Jecht could see the amusement in his eyes.

After a few seconds Auron shook his head, started to pull himself away from the little circle. "I don't know how you talked me into this," he said, glancing up at Jecht.

"Just a moment, Sir Auron," Braska said, and Auron paused, the wind taken out of his sails. "The lounge owner said that we were supposed to kiss whoever the bottle pointed to when it stopped, yes?"

"Yep, that's how it's played." Jecht had done something very similar back home; Abe team parties could get pretty damn wild, especially when they were on a winning streak.

"Well, if it won't stop, then I suppose he will have to kiss us both at the same time."

"Um, what?" It was not Jecht's finest comeback.

Auron didn't notice; his eyes were widening with shock at Braska's suggestion, and his face was going red. "That's… I…"

"Oh, come now," Braska said, standing himself. "You did agree to this, so we may as well follow the rules."

Jecht blinked as he saw Braska pull Auron to his feet and next to him, close enough that he might actually be able to get at both of their faces at the same time if they leaned in a bit more. Braska then turned back to Jecht, giving him an expectant look.

As he pushed himself up and walked over to where the two were standing, he noticed from the corner of his eye that the bottle had finally started to slow.

Much later, when the three were lying in bed with considerably less clothing between them and Auron's quiet snores filled the air, Jecht lightly prodded Braska in the ribs. "You're gonna have to show me how you did that trick later," he whispered, having figured it out about halfway through the tryst.

"A simple application of black magic," he whispered back, smile still all kindness and innocence, perhaps even more so now after their exertions.

"You just keep surprising me, Braska. I love that." Jecht chuckled as he stretched and settled back down. It was about damn time they all got some proper sleep.

[600shekels]

2 Chronicles 8: 1-10. "Ishtar."

Solomon’s Other Activities

8 At the end of twenty years, during which Solomon built the temple of the Lord and his own palace, 2 Solomon rebuilt the villages that Hiram[a] "the Rival" had given him, and settled Israelites in them. 

By age 20, one should be ready to contemplate taking over the disciplines left behind by one's "rivals" from the time of one's youth.

The qualities of youth no one envies- the delusions, the arrogance, disobedience, laziness, risk taking, all of the aspects of the male teen boy everyone disdains, these must give way to the Rivals, the Israelites.

This means Solomon essentially became the Emperor of Israel and Lebanon. See below.

3 Solomon then went to Hamath Zobah and captured it. 4 He also built up Tadmor in the desert and all the store cities he had built in Hamath. 

Hamath Zobah=Beautiful Heat, Fortress Of The Garrison

The verb חמה (hmh) is not used in the Bible, but in cognate languages it means to surround, guard or protect. Perhaps this verb has nothing to do with the previous and only accidentally looks similar, but perhaps it ties into the fact that natural open fires aren't very warm and smelting metals require sophisticated ovens. 

Tadmor= "The Love Town."

It's a bit of a mystery what Tadmor might have meant to the locals back then, but in the first century AD the Romans were calling this town Palmyra, apparently after their word for palm, palma, and since the Hebrew word תמר (tamar) means palm and Tadmor was proverbially pervaded with palms, many old-school scholars figured that Tadmor somehow had to mean palm as well (possibly as a corruption of the Arabic תתמר, tatmor, meaning something like "bunch of palms" or "palm-rich") and moved on. Today, however, scholars are less convinced.

Hamath= A fortress

The Love Town is Lubavitch, located in Russia. It is the fulfillment of directions God gave Jewish prophets and sages to build a place where concentrations in the Jewish ideals of civilzation could be practiced and preserved.

Just as Solomon made Tadmor in the desert, places which are dry of violence and transgression, the Chasids, Jewish Royalty from time immemorial, esatablished their Court and Fortress in Lubavitch, Hebrew for Philadelphia.

5 He rebuilt Upper Beth Horon and Lower Beth Horon as fortified cities, with walls and with gates and bars, 

6 as well as Baalath and all his store cities, and all the cities for his chariots and for his horses[b]—whatever he desired to build in Jerusalem, in Lebanon and throughout all the territory he ruled.

Beth Horon= The Hollow House, the House of Freedom

בית

The noun בית (bayit) means house. It sometimes merely denotes a domestic building, but mostly it denotes the realm of authority of the house-father, or אב (ab). This ab is commonly the living alpha male of a household, but may very well be a founding ancestor (as in the familiar term the "house of Israel"). The אב (ab) may also be a deity, in which case the בית (bayit) is that which we know as a temple.

חרר

The root חרר (harar) describes a society's central and enclosed source of heat. It thus may express a geographical depression, but more so a being hot and ultimately a being a ruler (whether by might, political clout or wisdom).

Balath=the Landlady

בעל

The verb בעל (ba'al) means to exercise dominion over; to own, control or be lord over. The ubiquitous noun בעל (ba'al) means lord, master and even husband, and its feminine counterpart בעלה (ba'ala) means mistress or landlady.

So Solomon conquers the territory given to him by Hiram and rules over all of Israel and Lebanon except he does so by educating the people and setting them free.

There are two "hollow houses" in the human body according to the Torah, the one in the chest and the other behind the navel. When both are free through slavery to the Instructions, then society autmatically becomes subjet to the Mistress, and who is she?

She is called Astarte, or Ishtar, the Union of the Instructions. Also called a Constitution, the inner one and also the one that holds nations together and ensures their surival and progress.

Even still, there were Terribles about the land:

7 There were still people left from the Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites (these people were not Israelites). 

In Va'etchanan, God said do not have relations with these persons, who do not dwell in territories that are ceremonially clean and cannot afford to offer refuge:

Driving Out the Nations

7 When the Lord your God brings you into the land you are entering to possess and drives out before you many nations—the Hittites "who fears", Girgashites "thieves, infertile" , Amorites "talkers", Canaanites "Royals", Perizzites "rural villager", Hivites "tent villagers" and Jebusites "those trodden down", seven nations larger and stronger than you— 

2 and when the Lord your God has delivered them over to you and you have defeated them, then you must destroy them totally.[g] Make no treaty with them, and show them no mercy. 

3 Do not intermarry with them. Do not give your daughters to their sons or take their daughters for your sons, 

4 for they will turn your children away from following me to serve other gods, and the Lord’s anger will burn against you and will quickly destroy you. 

5 This is what you are to do to them: Break down their altars, smash their sacred stones, cut down their Asherah poles[h] "happiness, a pole that is straight up!" and burn their idols in the fire. 

6 For you are a people holy to the Lord your God. The Lord your God has chosen you out of all the peoples on the face of the earth to be his people, his treasured possession.

-> There are Seven Nations and Seven Days of Devolution associated with them:

The First Day: Hittites "who fears".

The Second Day: Girgashites "thieves, infertile",

The Third Day: Amorites "talkers", 

The Fourth Day: Canaanites "royals",

The Fifth Day: Perizzites "rural villager", 

The Sixth Day: Hivites "tent villagers" and

The Seventh Day: Jebusites "those trodden down".

8 Solomon conscripted the descendants of all these people remaining in the land—whom the Israelites had not destroyed—to serve as slave labor, as it is to this day. 

9 But Solomon did not make slaves of the Israelites for his work; they were his fighting men, commanders of his captains, and commanders of his chariots and charioteers. 

10 They were also King Solomon’s chief officials—two hundred and fifty officials supervising the men.

To make slaves of the qualities that do not work on their own for the benefit of mankind is appropriate. Israelites must never be slaves only slavemasters.

250 officials=the very same that tried to force God to reveal Himself through scripture without the help of the temple priests:

When it becomes clear that Korach and the 250 “men of renown” are aspiring to the kehunah (priesthood) themselves, Moses challenges them to offer ketoret to G‑d—the most sacred of the divine services in the Sanctuary, permitted only to a priest, and only under special circumstances. Aaron, whose appointment as kohen gadol (high priest) they are contesting, will also offer the ketoret. “Come morning, and G‑d will show who is His, and who is holy . . . and he whom He has chosen will He bring near to Him.”

Korach and the 250 men accept the challenge. “They took every man his censer, and put fire in them, and laid incense on them, and stood in the door of the Tent of Meeting with Moses and Aaron.” The people are sympathetic to Korach’s rebellion, and gather en masse at the entrance to the Sanctuary.

=

The firstborn, his son Aaron attained to greatness, and Moses to royalty. Who then should rightly take the next office? Is it not the next in line?

Shall the [son of the] youngest of my father’s brothers be superior to me? Behold, I shall dispute his decision and put to naught all that has been arranged by him . . .

This is what happened between Solomon and Hiram. Hiram accepts Solomon's challenge to build his kingdom through collaboration on a new temple, Solomon accepts Hiram's challenge to be the most learned man possible.

This is what is meant by the Unity of the Instructions, to bring the current and the newest generation together through the driving out of the delusions of the generation that has just gone to ground, ensuring the entire world eventually has to submit to the Imperialistic Whims of the Most High.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hello ! I Hope you’re doing good, it’s been a while ! I was wondering if you could help me find fics similar to « Dirty Little Secret » by isthatbloodonhisshirt please ? (As in : celebrity!Derek, fanboy!Stiles and maybe secret relationship ? With a dash of social media if possible !) thank you so much ❤️

Sure, @sakuraoiwr!

Dirty Little Secret by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(2/2 I 91,001 I Explicit)

“Holy shit, this is a date!” he blurted out, turning back to Derek wide-eyed. “This is a date! You intended for this to be a date, this was supposed to be a date!” He figured if he said it enough times, maybe he would believe it, but so far, no dice.

Derek was scowling again—seriously, did he want wrinkles?—but he just reached into one of the bags and pulled out a burger, checking what was written on the foil in sharpie before handing it over to Stiles.

“Of course it’s a date, what did you think this was?”

***

Fate by Sivan325, SivanShemesh (Sivan325)

(1/1 I 599 I General)

It was the fifth time Stiles had seen him. He seemed to be everywhere Stiles was. If that wasn’t fate, he didn’t know what was.

Sad, Beautiful Boy by Blazing_Birdies

(1/1 I 680 I General)

Derek is famous and secretly dating Stiles, Stiles is tired of hiding and they come out very publicly, cute kissing ensues.

You'd Be Like Heaven to Touch by Nier

(1/1 I 2,018 I Teen)

"We got a runner! Boyd hold the doors! I'm on my way!" Erica sounds way too excited over the PA system about someone shoplifting.

"There she goes again," he hears Jackson over the walkie, amusement evident in his tone. "How do you think this is gonna end for him?"

"I don't know," Stiles honestly thinks they might get sued if Erica repeats what she did the last time someone tried to steal from the store.

Remember Randy Orton, yeah?

Remember his special finisher: RKO?

Yeah, Erica RKO'd the last shoplifter.

Sheepish Wolves by skoosiepants

(1/1 I 3,779 I Teen)

Derek is a movie star. He's an action hero. He's a leading man with criminal scruff, more abs than are humanly possible, and the thick, hairy thighs of a god.

And he's currently nuzzling into Stiles's neck, like he's only just holding back from licking him.

Beacon Hill(s) by twobirdsonesong

(1/1 I 7,860 I General)

Summary: Boy owns travel bookstore. Boy meets movie star. The rest is the rest.

Celebrity Crush by rarepairenabler, softywolf

(1/1 I 30,307 I Explicit)

Stiles wasn’t expecting to meet his favourite actor when Scott helped him land an internship on the set of Jackson’s new film, and he certainly wasn’t expecting Derek to fall in love with him. Not that Stiles was complaining.

Pen Name by rootbeer

(7/7 I 51,007 I Teen)

Anxiety (/aNGˈzī-itē/): A feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome. ~~ "The set was busy; people bustled about with their various jobs. No one seemed to notice, or maybe they just didn’t care, as the gangly boy looked about nervously. He was all skin and bones, a track of moles across his light skin. He carried a bag across his shoulders, a coffee cup in his left hand and a curious look on his face. There was nothing remarkable looking about him at all, and perhaps, that was the most remarkable thing."

When the Sun Goes Down by Staleinskii

(15/15 I 61,557 I Mature)

Derek Hale was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. For as long as he could remember, his family had run the famous Lunar Coast Hotel in Malibu, and it was the life set out for him. All he knew were galas, charity events, and smiling for the cameras to uphold the Hale reputation. Derek hates the toxic lifestyle of the wealthy elite, instead longing for something more. When he meets local surfer Stiles Stilinski, he's shown the life he's always wanted. As Derek dodges his family's disapproval, the corrupt media, and his mother's plans for him to take over the hotel, he falls for the local "scum" everyone in his social circle looks down on. Cue drama, diabolical plans, and sappy summer romance as secrets are revealed of what really goes on behind the scenes of the lives of Malibu's rich and famous.

Here's to the Static by matildajones

(18/18 I 80,868 I Teen)

Stiles spends most of his college break in a coffee house where he stares after Derek Hale. For some reason, Stiles is unaware of the fact he's quite the musician, and Derek amuses himself at Stiles' obliviousness.

[joshslater]

Dionysus

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

I was very hesitant when he picked me up at the nightclub. I could feel the disappointment and outright hostility from all the women and a lot of the men as the God walked up to me, started to make out, and then asked if I was up for some fun. That's what you get away with when no one ever says "no" I thought. With his incredibly handsome face, black hair, and athletic build that was probably not a word he was used to hearing. It would be impossible for him to know I was into guys, and coming on so strong could land you in hot water or rather knocked cold on the floor. Turns out he could know, and there was more to him than just utter handsomeness and unparalleled confidence. Way more.

It was back at his place he asked me if I could look like someone else, who would I pick? That's a game I've played many times before, so I instantly knew to answer Marco Albieri, the soccer player. He raised an eyebrow, took a step from me, and asked me why. "I don't know what it is about soccer players, but something about the game makes their bodies stunningly handsome. And Marco is just a step above the rest." He smiled a bright smile, made a dramatic gesture, and I was Marco. Looked exactly like him at least. It took me a moment to even realize what had just happened, but I could see myself in the full-length mirror. Or I couldn't, I should say. I saw Marco Albieri in full Paris Saint-Germain F.C. game kit. Mesmerized I took a step closer to the mirror, and Marco on the other side of the glass stepped closer as well. I looked just like him, my wettest, wankiest dream. I'd come so many times to exactly this fantasy. There was even a sheen of post-game sweat making all the skin glistening in his hallway designer lights.

He approached me from behind, still handsome but now by a much narrower margin. "You ready to fuck?" I didn't even answer but just turned around and kissed him. He wasn't shy in grouping me back. What followed was the longest fuck fest I've ever been part of. We went from room to room. It was like this body had limitless stamina, though it was the body of Marco after all, but an insatiable horny lust as well. Perhaps he had that too. It wasn't until early morning I fell asleep next to him, exhausted.

It was almost noon when I woke up, disoriented by everything. It was like it wasn't until now the craziness and impossibility of last night hit me. I could see Marco Albieri in the mirror at the other side of the bedroom, without shirt, and the most unkempt hair I had ever seen him with. I knew for a fact the secret hairstyling trick was body fluids. I suddenly felt very uneasy and exposed. Vulnerable even. I was here on vacation. How could I leave if I didn't look like my passport? How could I leave this building looking like Marco? There would be fans stopping me instantly. What the fuck am I thinking about? I'm erased from the world. No one I know, no one in my family would recognize me. Could I convince them I'm me and not a millionaire soccer player? Perhaps. But my life would be so complicated.

That's when he lazily strolled into the bedroom, completely naked showing off his chiseled body, one mug in each hand.

"You did this! How the fuck did you do this? You can't leave me like this!" "Morning!"

He handed me one of the mugs. On reflex I took a large sip of coffee only to discover it was red wine. It took me by surprise and I almost sprayed his white sheets with red mist of wine, but instead got some down my lungs and started to cough.

"Is this really the best you can think of?" he said. At first I had no idea what he meant. Then, still coughing, I realized it was my body again. The one I used to fly here, check into the hotel, and go out to nightclubs with.

"I... It's awfully inconvenient if I tried to leave with a different body." "That's it? That's the only reason?"

I felt stupid and unsure what to say. I liked my body, so why was it so hard to defend it? He took a large sip from his coffee mug of wine and climbed into bed next to me, but standing on his knees looking down on me.

"When's your flight back?" "Eh, in... On Sunday." "Plenty of time to let loose. How about going to the beach like this?"

This time I noticed the shift. The bed sagged down a bit under the extra load and I didn't even have to look in the mirror to see the freakish muscles. Two huge chest muscles peeked into my field of vision, and moving my arm I could see it was thicker than what my legs used to be.

I felt light-headed as we walked down to the beach. Probably the wine. He was subtle and classy, black Nike sneakers, black boardshorts, and a white T-shirt. I was anything but subtle. Probably twice his mass, annoying flip flops that flipped and flopped every step, white compression shorts that looked blindingly bright against my deep tan, a purple thong that peeked up over the rim of the shorts by the hips, visible because the neon yellow tank top was cropped above the belly button to show off the abs. The stringer waved for every step as my obscene pecs push out the yellow fabric like a hanging flag. It touched my body in surprisingly few places. Top of the traps and the nipples more or less.

After spending a few hours getting everyone passing by on the beach to turn their heads to observe the freak show he asked me to play floatation device for him. We went out in the water and did our best to have sex just outside where the waves broke. I think anyone who paid close attention could tell what we did, but no one could be really sure. He didn't appear to care.

"I made you something," he whispered. "What?" "A surfer," he said and begun walking towards the beach. As I wiped my long hair out of my face I understood he changed me again. No more shaved head, no more enormous meat slab. I still had a six-pack, I was still 6'-something, and my skin was deeply tanned, but that's about where the similarities ended. "Why?" I asked as I lied down on the beach towel next to his. "First dive bar opens soon, and I thought this would play better to the crowd." I was feeling woozy. "We want to play to the crowd?" He reached over and squeezed the pec closest to him. "Well, make them jealous at least."

There was something nagging at the edge of my thoughts. Some question I felt I needed to ask. I just couldn't quite put it into coherent thought.

"Did you drug me?" He made a high-pitched "Mmmm" sound. "Just a bit. To fit with the rest. Just go with it."

I shut my eyes, relaxed, and let his hand stroke me. I don't know how long we lied like that. Not too long, because the sun hadn't moved that much, but I sure did dozed off.

"Come on!" he said, like it was asking me to hurry up for the third time. A bit confused I got up from the beach towel. I wore a pair of eye-popping turquoise board shorts with black pattern and trim. Neon turquoise, if such a color was a thing. I knew it had a real trade name, but somehow it kept slipping my mind. They had a good fit, not loose, not tight, but rode low on my lithe body. Fuzzy pubes peeked out over the waistband, like a little forest edge where the treasure trail from the belly button ended. I looked around for a shirt or something to put on, but there was nothing except for a pair of flip-flops. These didn't look as cheap and fit much better than the previous pair though.

"Is that it?" I asked incredulously. "What more do you need?" he said, and looked at me like he wanted me for dinner. "Come!"

The bar wasn't far away and already busy when we arrived. He almost danced in, basically dragging me in, holding my hand. I was woozy from whatever I was drugged with, but in a way that made everything look amazing to me. In any direction I looked I was delighted by what I saw, no matter how mundane. The bar was not even half full and everyone looked as relaxed as you would expect from a bar half a block from the beach, though no one else was bare-chested. The decor was a random mix of styles, as expected by a dive bar. Tables for two or four were lined up in front of the bar at the back of the room. From a backroom somewhere behind it pumped music. I looked at my watch to see if it was already dance time, but I was only wearing a red nylon cord as a bracelet.

"You must be thirsty after a day in the sun," he said and handed me an Aperol Spritz. I could have sworn he hadn't left me for the bar, but then I didn't really trust my senses. We took a table for four and sat next to each other, facing the rest of the room. "So, tell me about your day," he continued, as if he hadn't been there for all of it.

For whatever reason I found it hard to figure out where to start, like it was all jumbled together despite nothing of consequence had happened. I began to describe how I had woken up in bed and how he surprised me with breakfast. How I had mistaken the red wine for coffee. I could feel his hand moving down my abs and into my board shorts. As he pulled out my erect cock from the shorts my immediate thought was of surprise. I hadn't realized I was hard. I continued to talk about how we went to the beach, while he was jerking me off with one hand under the table. It then hit me that I had no idea what my dick looked like, if it was big or small. I had never seen it. He had transformed me somehow into this surfer. How could I have forgotten something so monumental.

At that point I shot my load under the table. Four or five large pumps. I was suddenly aware again that there were people around us, and looking around tried to figure out if any of them could see I had my dick out. At the same time I was still feeling high or whatever it was. "I'll get a refill," he said, stood up and headed for the bar. I decided to put my dick back into the shorts.

"Hey, dude. Is he like your boyfriend?" someone standing next to me asked. How long had he been there? He was handsome, not quite as tall as I was now, but more muscled. The tight billabong shirt didn't hide much. "Him? No. We just..." I was trying to think of a good word. I wasn't sure what he was, or what was happening at all really. "Wanna check out the dance floor?" "Yeah... Yeah, I would."

I followed him towards the bar, and away to the side into the dance room. It was far from packed, but we were not alone at least. Immediately I regretted following him there, even before he started moving to the music. Once he did I knew I would look silly. I started to mimic his moves best I could. He smiled a crooked smile, though not an unkind one, when he saw what I was doing. He leaned forward and barely audible over the music asked "Are you up for a second round?"

"What do you mean?" I asked back. "I saw what that other dude did to you. I live nearby, if you want to try something that isn't over in minutes."

In the door opening I see him standing with two large drinks in his hands. He looks emotionless, which in itself was a scary contrast to how he looked before. He then drinks one of the drinks in one go, then immediately empties the other one as well. No sooner has he turned away with two empty glasses when I feel a desperate need to take a piss. He's fucking with me.

"Don't go anywhere," I say and dash towards to men's room.

It's empty. I go to the lone urinal and yank my dick out of the white thong. I'm confused, but happy I got there in time to relieve myself. Why am I wearing only a white thong to a bar? As the piss is streaming for longer than I can ever recall I look down my bare smooth legs and find a pair of eye-catching red hightops. When I'm finally done I have a look at myself in the mirror. Cute, young Latino boy with a red baseball cap on his unkempt hair, and a grey shirt. The shirt in a way makes the thong stand out even more and look intentionally inappropriate. Perfect!

I return to the dance floor and find the guy waiting. "There you are. Let's go!" he says, almost demanding. He doesn't say anything on the way to his apartment two blocks away. I keep looking his way, and it feels like my dick is growing bigger every time I look at those muscled arms. His pace is brisk without being conspicuous, he clearly wants us to get to his place as quickly as possible without being seen. In through an unlocked entrance, up two flights of stairs, and in through his apartment door.

As soon as he whisked me in and closed the door behind us he grabs me, shoves me into the wall next to us, and forcefully kisses me on my mouth. "You fucking whore! I'm so fucking horny you better know what you're doing."

He snores loudly again. I had tried to ignore it to spend a few more hours in the bed, but it's getting pointless to try to sleep any more. I carefully get up and get dressed. No need for a shower, now that everything dried. I make a final check I got everything with me that I brought in. There is that nagging feeling that I'm missing something. Well, whatever it was it can't be important. Quietly I exit his apartment and make my way out of the building. I feel restless being so quiet and calm, like it is unnatural for me to be that way. I basically explode in emotions as I exit the building and literally dance down the last few steps.

I try to think what to do next. My mind is like a spinning punch bowl of thoughts and I'm only able to fish out simple verbs. Party! Drink! Dance! Fuck! The sun is barely up, but perhaps I can find some nightclub still open.

[a-libra-writes]

hello my lovely talented libra writer twin <3 i have been reading the books and i am falling in love with jon, do u have any HCs ab jon having a crush on u? love u btw ;-;

Hell yeah im glad ur enjoying the books, Jon is so great in them. I'm gonna throw you a few diff scenarios here

If you met at Winterfell: This is assuming you were raised in Winterfell alongside him and the Starks, similar to Jeyne Poole or Theon. Jon's friendship would've come first, especially since you're one of the few children who talk and play with him. It would only be natural that once he was older, he'd start getting a crush. It's pretty obvious to the adults, and quite sweet.

He's protective and considerate, and gets a little brooding and jealous when Robb or Theon take your attention away. It's when you both are alone that you get to see Jon being more confident and humorous. Once you're both back at Winterfell, he tries fading into the background again.

Unfortunately, Jon would struggle to see a life with you - doubly so if you were highborn. If you were maybe Jeyne's station or below (like a servant's daughter), then perhaps you two could have a life, but that would seem like a pipe dream. If you were highborn, forget it. He wouldn't even bother confessing, since he's planning to go to the Wall. He'd just look like a kicked dog whenever you were around.

If you met at the Wall: Going off an AU I enjoy where the reader is disguised as a man in the Night's Watch, Jon is pretty invested in keeping your secret and making sure you're alright. His concern and curiosity leads to you both having a friendship, and eventually him getting a crush once he starts to learn more about you. It comes on pretty quick and he realizes it, and feels stupid about it. He tries to hide it so he doesn't scare you off.

Though Jon's protectiveness only doubles, and sometimes he gets annoyed when he thinks you aren't being careful enough. Sam and Edd would figure out your secret too, and his crush. Again, it's fairly obvious. He also wants to make sure you're warm enough and you have enough food - it's almost doting, and it's very cute. He blushes and gets annoyed when you point that out.

When Jon's Lord Commander he feels more confident in protecting you and he can assign you a post that leaves you relatively safe from others, therefore safe from discovery. This is when he tries to put his feelings on a backburner because now he has his duties, but. Well. The more you stubbornly insist on helping him and sticking around, the deeper his feelings grow.

[shadow-sovereign]

Hello, it's Lullaby again. An idea quite similar to Time traveling Shadows, but it's either Jin-woo as a Shadow Monarch or The Shadow Monarch himself. As in Ashborn is Jin-woo and he is often time hopping. I mean, what if original Jin-woo in a timeline way before canon got trapped in one of his earliest dungeons and got yeeted right to the Supreme Being's throne room at the ripe age of 20?

"... at the ripe age of 20?" it certainly would explain his loyalty to the Being if he was treated kindly and trained to be one of the Being's generals, as he maybe was led to believe. So he underwent an endless cycle of giving his power to his past self in order to keep him (the younger him) in the Human world but until canonverse it was all a failure.

Huh, this is an interesting concept. Lots of time wimey shenanigans.

It’s an au where the Rulers tried to give the humans magic in the earlier timelines (which must be driving them crazy that they keep losing, since in canon that was their last ditch effort to keep some of the humans alive). That does make me wonder what else they would have tried, though. Maybe different National Ranked Hunters in each timeline.

So, Jin-Woo of the first timeline ends up in front of the Supreme Being (also called the Absolute Being, at least that’s the translation I read), I guess far in the past, since we don’t know when exactly the Rulers turned against their creator.

Jin-Woo is amazed that such a powerful being sees potential in him, making him so much more powerful. Making him practically a god, really, especially after he dies and becomes the Shadow Monarch.

He’s a very loyal person, perhaps he even started to see the Absolute Being as a second father. With the time travel and everything, he would have known the AB a lot longer than his mortal dad. It would have made the AB’s death hit him a lot harder, feeling like he’s lost another parent. Then the conflicted feelings of why the Rulers killed the AB.

Jin-Woo isn’t naive. He understands the Ruler’s argument for how the AB is using their fight with the Monarchs as entertainment. So, he has to wrestle with his own feelings of loyalty, love, and betrayal. On two fronts, really, since he would have grown close to the Rulers as well.

A part of him would know that the Rulers just killed the AB to save lives, both of themselves and of their subordinates. But that doesn’t take away the pain of losing his father-figure.

When the time travel stuff happens, the Rulers trying to save the Earth, he sees his other self and wants to spare him the same pain. And perhaps give himself a chance to rest, to erase this version of himself and replace it with one who hasn’t known the same loss.

And so, he keeps trying to give his powers to these other versions of himself, but it’s a delicate balance, trying to give a human so much power. If he takes too long, young Jin-Woo won’t get the full power up before the Monarchs arrive and die that way. But if he gives him the power too fast, it will...probably disintegrate him. That seems to be what happened to Il-Hwan, too much of the Ruler’s power at once.

Also, maybe sometimes young Jin-Woo just gets killed before he can fully inherit the Shadow Monarch’s powers. With all those dangerous dungeons he goes on and maybe even acquiring the ire of Hwang Dong-Su before he’s leveled up enough. There are a lot of factors that could get him killed.

But over the resets, SM Jin-Woo figures out a game plan for how to level him up, creating those fake dungeons for him to train in. And at least in the fake dungeons, he’d be able to stop any of those created monsters from killing young Jin-Woo if something went wrong.

And you know, once the two Jin-Woo’s meet, that speech will be a lot more literal. The ‘I am you and You are me’ and ‘I’m the record of your struggles’ thing. Much more literal. [I don’t remember the exact wording of that speech, but that was the gist of it.]

After that, I think things would happen pretty similar to canon. Young Jin-Woo becomes the new Shadow Monarch, fights Antares, goes back in time, defeats the Monarchs. But perhaps this time, the Rulers would be more involved in his life when everything is said and done. Because in this case, the “Ashborn” they had known was just an older Jin-Woo. Now, they want to get to know this younger Jin-Woo, without all the bad history between them.

This Jin-Woo is more objective than his other self, having never met the Absolute Being, so he doesn’t feel the same sense of betrayal from the Rulers killing the Absolute Being. He knows the guy needed to die, if there was ever going to be an end to the fighting.

He’s not sure what to think of the Rulers, since they’re attached to a version of him that’s...not quite him. They get surprised by what he does sometimes while other actions are completely inline with what they’d expect. It makes for a rather unique getting to know you experience.

I imagine he’d really start to warm up to them once the Rulers started to interact with his human family. Maybe they have an attitude of any family of Jin-Woo’s is a family of theirs. So, they treat Jin-Woo’s family well, not even doing it to endear themselves to Jin-Woo, which makes it that more effective.

Perhaps he and Jin-Ah would start to see the Rulers as Aunts and Uncles. They could show Jin-Woo how to use more of his abilities and to grant his human family longer life. And they’d all fight to babysit when Jin-Woo or Jin-Ah has kids.

And they all live happily ever after. Because I like happy endings.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In pais

This is dark!prince!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only. It include noncon and other dark elements. Curate your consumption accordingly.

Summary: A prince visits your father’s inn.

Note: first of all, let’s make it clear that @lokislastlove​ is always responsible for Loki drivel. Secondly, I am here and there with writing, I’ve pretty much decided to write when I want to and what I want to. I’m going to stop holding myself to ridiculous schedules and deadlines that aren’t real. My anxiety is wild y’all.

Also, unofficially in my head and heart, considering this like a sister fic to  Droit du seigneur.

I hope y’all enjoy!

Let me know what you think! (Like, reblog, reply, leave some words, a gif, nonsensical emojis)

You shouldered your way out of the small barn. You were careful not to slosh the milk over the side of the bucket as you rounded the inn. The top would be skimmed and cream could be served for dessert, although your father’s tavern was not very busy that day. It was never bustling, merely a stop for most on a much longer road. Few stayed the night, usually opting for an ale and a meal before leaving.

Hooves pounded the dust and you stopped to watch the party of men on their galloping horses. You feared they would trample the fence as they neared and you backed up against the front of the inn, just feet away from the front door. Dirt powdered the air and the horse slowed before the fence that closed in the livestock.

A lithe man swung off a dark stallion, his own hair a similar shade of black that hung down his shoulders. His green cape swished around him and the other men dismounted with less grace. One of them approached; noblemen by the velvet of their capes and the silver on their belts.

“Rooms for the night,” He jangled a purse as his wavy orange hair fell forward over his brow. “And as much wine as you have.”

“We’ve more ale than wine,” You returned as you shifted the weight of the pail.

“Either will do,” The taller man with the black hair strode forward and slapped his gloves against his palm. His lip curled as he peered up at the inn. “I suppose we’ll have to take what we can get here.”

You looked between them and the other men traipsed behind as they chattered noisily. The black-haired noble looked down at you sharply.

“Well, little mouse, take your milk and prepare our quarters,” He nodded to the other man who waved the purse in your direction. “Or do you only tend to the animals?”

“My lord,” You cradled the bucket with one arm and snatched the purse. “All will be arranged. I will inform the inkeep of your arrival.”

“I suppose venison would be out of the question,” He ventured.

“Rabbit or hen.” You countered. “My lord.”

“Your highness, actually,” He corrected. “Prince, if you must.”

You squeezed the purse and nodded as your brows twitched. “Your highness.” You repeated and bowed as well as you could with your armful. “If you follow me, might take a left after we enter and seat yourself in the common room.”

You spun on your heel and continued your path to the front door. You pushed through with your hip and called to Celeste. “Party of five. Is there any wine left?”

“We’ve a cask from Mirraine,” She said. “Bitter red.”

“Fetch that and a barrel of ale,” You passed the front counter where she sat and wove thread around a frame. “And show these lords to the tables. I’ll tell Giles to hurry.”

“And your father?” She asked.

“He’s your husband.” You shrugged. “I thought he was still abed.”

“I wouldn’t blame him for hiding there for your nagging,” She stood. “He is in the kitchen.”

You stopped as she neared the end of the counter and lowered your voice. “Save that sharp tongue for me, stepmother. A prince will not be so tolerant.”

“Prince?” Her lashes fluttered and she smoothed her apron. “Perhaps you should bide your own warning.”

She brushed past you and you continued down the hallway between the counter and the stairs that led to the mostly vacant rooms. You swung the door open with your foot and passed through to plop the pail on the table within. Giles yawned as he sat on a stool and stared at the fire stove. Your father swirled a stein and watched the foam thin.

“We’ve customers. Rooms and dinner, expected.” You announced. “Noblemen… and a prince.”

Your father’s stein slammed on the table. He blanched and Giles gave another disinterested yawn.

“What’s on the spit today?” Your father hissed at the cook.

“Rabbit?” Giles frowned. “I think.”

“Aye, you fool,” Your father smacked the back of his head. “A prince you said?”

“Yes. Black hair. I suppose it is the younger.” You answered.

“Loki,” Your father coughed. “Shit.”

“You know a prince, father?” You challenged.

“Know of him,” Your father said. “Don’t be a mare, daughter.”

“There should be enough cream for a dessert.” You offered. “We’ve flour. A pastry could be devised.”

“Where is your mother?”

“Your wife? Why she’s entertaining the prince and his men.” You scoffed. “Think I saw her pinch her cheeks to try to get some colour back in her jowls.”

“Don’t be so crass. Go, send her to bake the dessert then and take some cups for our guests.” Your father spat. “And smile. You look at the prince like that and he might march us all to the scaffold.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” You grabbed a tray and loaded it with empty steins and a few goblets. “If anything, it will be Celeste who has us whipped.”

Your father snorted darkly and you turned with your fare. You pushed through the door once more and made your way to the front room where the men sat around one of the round tables. You neared as your stepmother giggled, a piglike noise, and you stopped beside her.

“Father would have you prepare dessert,” You said to Celeste as you neared. “Did you send for the kegs?”

“The stable boy had run to fetch them,” She sneered. “You might have rolled the dough yourself.”

“I might have,” You tilted your head. “But I do as my father bids me. As you vowed to do, did you not?”

She huffed and left you. Godwin appeared with a dark cask in hand and lugged it to a table. He wiped his forehead, his lanky arms trembling. “I’ll have the ale shortly, miss,” He panted. “And a tap.”

“Thank you, Godwin,” You said and you didn’t miss his lingering gaze. 

He’d been sweet on you for years, even after you’d rebuffed him at the harvest feast last season. You placed your tray behind the cask and waited. Godwin returned, breathless and beet red as he dragged the barrel. You helped him lift it beside the cask and took the tap from him.

“Go see to the horses.” You said. “Find a brush if you can.”

You watched him go and crossed back to the table of nobles. “I’ve enough wine for you each to have at least a cup and more than enough ale to go around. So what shall I fetch you, my lords? And your highness?” You bowed your head at Prince Loki.

“Wine,” The prince spoke first.

Only one other requested wine and you went about your duty. You served Loki first and then his men. They grew louder as you left them to their drinking and you went through to the kitchen to check in on your measly staff.

“Don’t serve them the heels, you dolt,” Your father snarled at Giles. “And trim the mold off the cheese.”

“Ah, I see, only the finest for the royal prince.” You mused.

“Don’t,” Your father rounded the table. “Help your mother.”

“Your wife,” You insisted once more as you watched Celeste beat the dough.

The door swung behind you as your father left and you neared your stepmother. She seemed as angry at the dough as she usually was at you.

“Don’t you dare touch it,” She warned. “You’ll ruin it.”

“I’ll ruin it,” You rolled your eyes. “Sure.”

“A prince. Imagine it.” She went on as she folded the dough. “Here, of all places. Just hope your father doesn’t join them for a pint.”

“Ha, as if they’d have him.” You shook your head.

“You’re one to talk about being had,” Celeste hissed. “If we don’t find you a husband soon, I don’t even think the convent will take you.”

“You think my father is a prize, do you?”

The door swung and you turned as you father stomped through. “Aye, what they say has to be true. Sly little bugger. Tongue on him.” He adjusted his belt below his stomach. “Daughter.” He waved to the door. “Go keep the drink flowing. That prince did not think the wine so sweet from my hand.”

“The dessert--”

“Don’t be wise with me,” He warned. “The prince wants you serving his meal this evening. He paid me good coin for it, so go out and see if you can’t get more.”

You hid a scowl and sidled past your father. You wiped the irritation from your brow and returned to the common room. You neared the table and folded your hands over your apron.

“Your highness, my lords? Do you require another round?”

“Do you have water without scum?” The prince asked. “If not, I’ll take some of that milk you dragged in.”

“I’ll fetch you some milk, your highness,” You returned. “And you, sirs?”

“We can work a tap,” The one with orange hair said. “Or figure it out. Thank you, lady.”

“She sweeps the hay, Hugh, she’s not a lady.” The prince snickered. “Milkmaid, I await my second round.”

You did your best to smile, not your best skill, but you tried for fear you might growl. You returned to the kitchen and filled a cup with milk. You skimmed the top and swept back out before your stepmother could notice you. You went back to the prince’s table and set down the cup lightly.

“Your highness.” Another man had risen and bent at the barrel to fill his stein. “Your dinner will be out, shortly.”

“Mmm, I’ve not tasted rabbit since before Easter.” He said. “Always rather unappetizing but you peasants are resourceful.”

“Your highness.” 

You dipped your head and backed away. You stood by the wall and stared at the one opposite as the men’s voices garbled in your ears. You waited until you smelled the roasting meat and you marched to the kitchen. Giles divided the meat onto plates with sliced bread, chunks of cheese and slightly singed potatoes.

You took two and went to the front room to serve. You placed one before the prince first, he watched you with a smirk as he leaned back in his chair and you set the other down carefully. You made another two trips until the table was full and the men were chewing between their bawdy words.

Your father appeared shortly after and asked how the men liked the food. All but the prince kept chewing and grunted in delight. Loki however made a comment about the chewiness of the meat. He was likely right but this wasn’t exactly a royal castle. It was a roadside inn where most of the patrons patched their clothing and would settle for a stick of salted meat and moldy bread.

When their plates were empty, you cleared them and dumped them in the basin in the kitchen. Celeste fretted over whipping the cream as her pastries cooled. She dolloped the cream onto them and acknowledged you with a snort.

“That prince is handsome but a right arse.” She muttered. “Your father said he didn’t like the rabbit. I mixed the seasoning myself.”

“Mm,” You took two plates and turned away. “Well you don’t have to tend to him.”

“If I was your age, he might just like that,” She snipped. “If you didn’t look like you were chewing on salt, he might give you a second glance.”

You didn’t respond and carried on. You delivered the six dishes in several trips and refilled a few steins as the men dug in. The barrel was close to empty, the cask too. They’d made quick work of your father’s meagre fare.

The prince beckoned you over, as he had many times, two fingers flicking you over as your father hovered in the next room by the counter. You went to him and lowered your chin as you recited a “your highness.”

“I would hope to retire soon. A bath should be drawn as well.” He bid.

“Certainly, I’ll have Godwin--”

“You,” He pointed at you with a long finger. “You’re a strong girl, you can handle it yourself.”

“With all due respect, your highness, I think it more appropriate--”

“I think I gave you an order,” He stood and reached to his belt and dug around in his purse. “And it would not go unrewarded. Good service never does.” He flipped the coin then held it out to you. You glared at it.

“Your highness,” Your father approached. “Is there an issue?”

“Not at all, I was only requesting that your daughter draw my bath for the evening.” He smirked. “I did offer her compensation for the task.”

“And she will tend to that immediately,” You father took the coin and your hand and pressed them together. “Right, daughter? You might get the water boiling.”

“Yes, father.” You bit down. “Your highness.”

You drew your hand away and bowed your head. You backed away and quickly skirted off to the kitchen. You snapped at Giles to grab the big pot and send Godwin for water. Celeste grinned up at you as she bit into one of the pastries.

“He is demanding, isn’t he? I’m almost ready to see my own bed for the night since my duties are all done.” She taunted.

“You might do better there. Out of the way of those who actually work.” You jibed.

She flinched and blew cream at you angrily. You kept clear of the mess and Godwin returned with the big pot of water. It was hung in the large fireplace and you waited listlessly for it to boil.

You lugged the first pot up and dumped it into the long tub in the chambers set out for the prince. You descended and repeated the process; another pot up the stairs, steaming up your arms. 

The door was closed that time and you knocked with your toe. The prince opened it, his leather vest half unbuttoned.

“Ah, I did think there would be more to it,” He sneered.

“Your highness.” You said.

He backed up to let you through and you poured the pot into the tub, careful not to splash yourself with the water. He let you back out and your third pot was soon shaking over the flames. When you returned to him again, his vest was gone and his tunic hung low on his chest.

The fourth, and his belt was gone, his tunic too, and his undershirt was all that covered his torso. The fifth, his boots gone, socks too. The sixth, leggings slung over the single chair and he stood in only his undershirt. It hung to his thigh and you feared it might shift a little too much.

“Would you like some cold water to ease the heat, your highness?” You asked as you turned back to the door. 

He was quick, his long legs carried him to the door before you could reach it. He caught the wood and blocked you from the hall.

“I like it hot.” He said. “You can set the pot down and tend to my bath.”

“I have, your highness.” You insisted.

“You’ve filled it, yes,” His brow slanted. “But since I’ve traveled without my attendant, I haven’t anyone to scrub me clean and your inn has done little to cleanse me of the filth of the road.”

“You paid me to bring you water--”

“I paid you a pretty coin for that then,” He interjected, “And I paid your father enough that he told me you are free of your other tasks for the night. You will see to me.” He pushed the door closed. “I know you’ve likely never met a prince before, most certainly haven’t. There’s only two of us.” He loomed over you. “But I trust you know a prince’s word is as good as law.”

He pushed himself away and spun away from you. Your eyes flew up as he grabbed his undershirt and ripped it up over his head. The fabric fluttered to the floor and you clutched the handle of the pot. Your father would sell you like some cattle; you were only surprised he’d waited for a prince to do so.

“Well, put that pot down and grab a sponge. I will soak a while first but I expect you to be prepared. Diligent.” He hummed as he leaned back in the hot water. “I know you are only used to common merchants.”

You were silent. You placed the pot on the floor but stayed by the door. You slowly moved along the wall and went to the pail in the corner of the room next to the low table. You bent and took the sponge from within and the spouted wooden cup. You lingered in the corner and dreaded the moment he would call to you.

“I must admit, I know little of your...bearing. I do tend to avoid the unwashed masses.” The water moved as he spoke. “I mean, your ilk don’t bathe very much, do they?”

“Every Sunday after chapel.” You said evenly. “We gather at the river.”

“We? All of you? Like beasts.” He laughed.

“The women. Children, too. The men bathe during the week.” You explained. “But I suppose a prince might wash more often.”

“I do find the hot water as calming as it is cleansing,” He replied. “Why, it is Thursday. You worked hard today. Another few days is long to wait.”

You squeezed the sponge and pressed it to the cup.

“A prince must be generous,” He began slyly. “So for this day my act of royal charity is to share with you, a common girl, my bath.”

“Your highness, I don’t think--”

“I did not ask and it is unseemly to deny a prince his favour.” He rebuked. “So you get over here and you wash yourself.” He looked over his shoulder dangerously. “I would rather you clean.”

You crossed the room and kept your back to the prince as you passed and stood at the other end of the tub. You placed the cup by the tub and tucked the sponge inside. You straightened and untied your apron. You moved to put it on the seat of the chair. Then you unlaced the collar of your dress and paused. You took a breath before you pulled it over your head.

You bent to loosen your boots. Your stockings were as reluctantly shed. You rose, left with only your shift. The water swirled noisily. Your father had never been much of one. He worked you morning to night, he never thanked you for a deed you did, and he barely noticed your presence unless it served his needs. You weren’t surprised, nor disappointed, you were only annoyed at the circumstance.

You drew your shift up your legs and bunched it in your hands. You tore it off in a final swoop of resignation. You stood, your chest rising and falling, as you stared at the far wall. You gritted your teeth and forced down the nerves.

“Well, that was… dramatic,” He remarked. “But really, the water is bound to cool before you touch it.”

You spun around and marched to the tub. You reached to the brim but refused to look at the water or him. You lifted a leg over the edge and he let out a hum. You lowered your other leg into the steaming water as he sat up.

“Go on,” He said. “Clean yourself. I can smell the sty on you.”

You bent over the side and grabbed the sponge from cup. You focused on wetting it and scrubbing at your skin. You stretched out your arms, lifted one leg then the other, and rubbed your chest raw. Your eyes clung to the ceiling. The water shifted and the shadows around you did too.

He stood and grabbed your hand. He guided it to his chest and kept the sponge moving in circles. You looked at his face as he smirked at you. His other hand tickled your side. He let go of you and you kept going; across his shoulders, his neck, his arms, his chest, his stomach. 

He caught your wrist and squeezed until you dropped the sponge. He pushed your palm to his member; it was hard as he slid his hand around yours and bent your fingers. His touch danced up your back and settled behind your neck as he pulled you close.

“I know you’ve never touched a prince like this before,” He said. “But what about another man? Hmm?”

You gulped as you looked him in the eyes. You shook your head defiantly. He moved your hand up then back down. His cheek twitched and he let out a thick breath. He kept your hand moving along his member as his grip tightened on your neck. He leaned in until his lips almost met yours.

“I’ve never had a woman, princesses, duchesses, ladies, queens, even, look at my the way you do,” He snarled. “And it has me mad.”

“I don’t know what you mean--”

“You despise me. You don’t even know me,” His lips brushed yours. “But you know I am a prince, I am your superior, and you curl your lip at me.”

“I don’t--”

He pressed his lips to yours and kissed you hungrily as the steam floated around your bodies. He kept your grasp firm on him as he carried the motion steadily. He groaned into your mouth and suddenly let go. He held your head with both hands as if to devour you. You stumbled in the tub, held up only by his unbreakable grip.

He parted as his long fingers framed your jaw. His green eyes burned into yours as you gaped at him. He kissed you again, this time nibbling your lip as he drew away. He snarled as he did and his hand slipped down your shoulders and lingered on your chest. He pinched one nipple then the other and his fingers crawled lower.

His other hand settled on your throat as his finger poked between your legs. You squeezed your thighs together and he gave a growl. It was a warning. He slid along your folds and teased your sensitive bud. You gasped as he was close to choking you entirely.

He prodded along your entrance and delved inside. You nearly bit your tongue as you closed your mouth and grabbed his arm to keep from slipping. Your eyes rounded as he grinned. He moved his hand slowly as you felt a ripple along your thighs.

“Inexperienced but not innocent,” He purred. “Darling, you feel wonderful.”

You clawed at his bicep as he rocked his hand against you, your body shaking in tandem. You wanted to hate it. You had to hate it and yet it felt so good.

“Turn around,” He commanded as he ripped his hand from between your legs. “Now.”

He released you entirely and you stumbled back and caught yourself on the side of the sub. He stroked himself as he watched you and spun his finger in the air. You turned, slowly. You leaned heavily on the side of the tub as your legs felt likely jelly and your core pulsed hungrily. You wanted more and yet you wanted to run away.

He slapped your ass. Hard. Your knees buckled. He gripped your hips and steadied you. He stepped closer and rubbed his member against your ass. His hand ran along your flesh and he guided his tip down. He reached your entrance and inhaled suddenly. He held himself there, barely touching you as his fingers curled into your hip.

“It’ll hurt. At first.” He rasped. “But that only makes the pleasure…” He slid past your entrance slowly and you stretched around him. You squeaked in shock. “...greater.”

The deeper he got, the harder it was to measure your voice. He was right about the pain. More, more, more; you feared it wouldn’t stop. When he did, when he reached his limit, you were bent over, hands on the side of the tub, bracing yourself as you were afraid your legs would collapse.

He pulled back and slammed into you again. You cried out, loudly, and clapped your hand over your mouth. He chuckled and did it again. His wet flesh reverberated against yours. He did it, again, again, again. Each time he paused and basked in the sound; basked in your murmurs as you struggled not to scream.

“You are tight, darling,” He groaned. 

You quivered and held onto the tub as your body was jolted by his. He rutted into you quicker and quicker. He was insatiable and each time he thrust, his hunger seemed to deepen. His voice turned animalistic and his fingers got firmer around your hips. The water splashed around your legs and added to the medley of lurid sounds.

You arched your back as the waves swelled within you and you felt them cresting, ready to crash. You hissed through gritted teeth and your voice cracked as you exclaimed. The feeling was overwhelming, the sensation stifling as it filled your veins. Your eyes rolled back and you hung your head as your walls pulsed around his member.

“Ah, darling, I feel you,” His hands slipped up to your waist and he pulled you back against you as he rammed into even harder. “That’s it… bend for your prince.”

He grunted as he bent over you and hooked his arm around your stomach. He stood and drew you up with him. You were on your toes as he jerked into you violently, his other hand on your chest as he pressed his cheek to yours. His voice swirled in your head and added to the heat in your core.

“That’s it, that’s it…” He chanted as his flesh slapped against yours.

You clawed at his thigh as he hammered into you and finally he slowed with a surprised cry. His hips spasmed and you felt a sudden swell of warmth inside of you. You trembled as he slowed and stilled your body. You were breathless but buoyant. You’d never felt so light yet heavy at the same time. He was the only strength left to you as he held you up.

“Well, look at you,” He tickled your stomach with his fingers. “Dirty, all over again.”

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch 4)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: What's Your Ideal Type?

Next Chapter: Special Grade

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj, @rizzo-nero, @whoreuc

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty. Double update this week since the story is moving along fast.

CHAPTER 4: Cherry Blossom Storm

You finally reached your classroom. It wasn’t large as there were only 4 1st year students who enrolled this year. A black board, some desks, and a huge view from outside.

“Wowww, the campus view from here is so pretty!” You quickly made your way to the open window. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom. It is spring and the school year starts in April.

Noritoshi stood by your side and stared at you. “Yeah we have a pretty good view here. The view from the roof is much better if you would like me to show you?”

“Sure.” you replied absentmindedly. You reached out a hand towards the petals and flowers blowing in the wind and used your technique to pull them to you. You stared at the cherry blossom in the centre of your hand.

You turned to Noritoshi with a hint of mischief in your eyes. “Have you ever felt what it was like to be in the midst of a flower storm?” He stared affixed at the way you freely used your cursed energy.

He grew up understanding that cursed energy is limited. It has a slow recharge and should not be used meaninglessly. And here you were, using yours without a care in the world.

But then you must have a lot if you look as relaxed as you are now. Plus he can sense the huge amount of cursed energy swirling around you. It was one of the reasons why he immediately walked up to greet you when you both first met.

“I don’t, would you perhaps show me?” he asked. You grinned at him, “Please bring me to the rooftop.”

The rooftop was a marvelous view. At about 4 stories high, you could see the surrounding forest around the campus, as well as the more urbanised city from a distance. You beckoned Noritoshi to the center of the space and he stood in front of you.

Then you put both palms up, one diagonally on top of the other in kind of like a v shape before whispering, “Tornado: Soft Blossom Style”. Immediately a wind channel formed in your hands and attracted the flower petals and loose cherry blossoms that have fallen from trees. They spun around both of you faster and faster until you were both in the midst of a mini flower tornado.

“What a sight.” Noritoshi smiled up as he could smell the petals from up close. He reached up to pick a flower, but they were moving way too fast. So you caught a few full undamaged blossoms and placed it in his hands. “My mum has similar abilities with plants. She taught me how to control them like this.” You admitted.

You released your technique and the petals slowly drifted downwards like a gentle flower shower. “Clear skies with a hint of flower fall.” You said out of nowhere. Noritoshi couldn’t help but laugh out loud at that as he pocketed the flowers. “What a weather report.”

You smiled at him not noticing the figures by the door who were attracted to your mini flower storm. “Waaaa~ What’s all this for?”

You quickly turned to see two girls. One with blonde hair and one with short dark green hair that was almost black. “Nishimiya, Mai.” Noritoshi senpai called out.

Ah, so more school mates. The short blonde ran out and reached up for the petals, while the other followed from behind.

“Hello, I am an incoming first year here. Tsuchimikado Y/N, It is nice to meet you.” You greeted them with a bow.

“Ahhh, that Tsuchimikado huh?” to which you looked back up to the taller pretty woman with short hair. “The name’s Mai. Zenin Mai. Looks like we’ll be fellow classmates. Please take care of me.”

Zenin?! Whoa now there are two students here at Kyoto Jujutsu High who come from the Great 3 Jujutsu Families.

“Nishimiya Momo, 2nd year student. Just call me Momo senpai, Tsuchimikado chan. We saw the flowers from down below and just came to check what’s happening.”

“Is it okay if I address you as y/n chan?” Momo senpai asked. “Yes y/n is fine senpai, I don’t mind too much. I’ll be in both of your care!” You smiled at them.

“So what are you both doing up here Kamo-kun?” Momo turned to him. He calmly replied “I was bringing her around campus. She wanted to see the view from the rooftop.”

“Ahhh. So what Todo said about both of you being on a date wasn’t true then?”

You solemnly vowed to beat that man up the next time you see him. He knew what he was doing and he was provoking you very well. Still, it didn’t stop you and Noritoshi from both flushing hard, “It’s not a date!” You both exclaimed at the same time.

Mai was smirking. “Okay then. By the way, Y/n chan, our uniforms have arrived. I was just walking with Momo to the office to pick it up. Would you want to come along?”

You brightened up, “Of course I’ll go!” To which Noritoshi came up behind you and smiled as he leaned down to reach your height. “I have some other errands to do, you can go ahead with them.”

“Ah, th-thank you again for showing me around. I think I am more familiar with the place now.” You bowed again. He shook his head, “I’ve already got something better from you,” as he motioned to the flowers on the ground. “Now if you three would excuse me.”

After he left, you quickly blew all the flowers off the roof and towards the ground. “I made a mess without thinking.” You worriedly said. “Y/n, don’t worry about it. C’mon let’s go.” Momo pulled you along.

Mai just stared at the space where a bunch of petals were at a moment ago. ‘A natural born talent huh.’ She thought with a bit of jealousy as she turned to follow you guys.

◇◇◇

“Here you are!” The window handed you and Mai your uniforms. “Thank you so much!” You smiled at them. You looked over the custom made fits and everything seemed correct.

You had requested for pants and a short sleeved top along with a cape over it. You can also wear your favorite haori if not the cape. The top and the cape both have the Jujutsu High Buttons on them.

You had lunch with the girls and chatted with them, getting to know them a bit better. You discovered that Momo senpai was also admitted based on her family lineage. “Y/n chan, you also got in via your family?”

“Yes I did! My family is a bit small, but we are descendants of-”

“Abe no Seimei.” Mai finished for you, You turned to look at her in surprise before realizing that she was from the Zenin clan, of course they have a lot of information on the rest of the Jujutsu society.

You nodded at her. “You’re from the Zenin clan right Mai chan? Is that how you know Noritoshi senpai?”

“Yes, the big 3 Jujutsu clans have always been in touch with each other, so we know each other from a while back.” She replied.

You’re definitely not jealous that she knows Noritoshi. Definitely not.

“Noritoshi senpai? You don’t call him Kamo senpai?” Momo asked curiously.

“Ahh, he told me to call him that…?” You hesitantly asked. Momo’s eyes sparkled dangerously.

“Reaaally?? Mr. ‘I only care about studying and being the next Kamo clan head’ Noritoshi said that to you?”

What.

“Next clan head what?!” You were surprised. The whole time you were so casual with him, making him bring you around. Should you have been more formal?

“Ah, you didn’t know.” The two other girls stared at you in growing amusement, while you flapped around nervously.

“Oh my gosh and I was so casual with him?!” you panicked. “Should I be more formal with him from now on?”

Mai shrugged. “Dunno. I honestly don’t think he minds. He and Todo, they’re both a pain in the ass.”

“Have you also met Todo senpai? He asked me what my ideal type was earlier! So odd.” You said, to which Momo senpai just groaned out. “I’m classmates with both of them and they’re definitely a huge pain to deal with. Todo is just obsessed with his favorite idol Takada chan. Just ignore him, it will do you good. Trust me.” she added as an afterthought.

“If you say so.” You replied. The girls were nice, you were happy that there were some people you would get along with for sure.

◇◇◇

“Utahime sensei,” Noritoshi called out by the door to the staff room. “Coming! Just a moment!”

“Oh, it’s just you Kamo. What is it?” Utahime asked as she leaned against the door frame.

“There is this book I was reading, but I found some essential pages torn out. I borrowed it from the library.” He handed the volume over to Utahime, who checked it.

“Tsk, tsk. How could we have missed that? Must be a very old untouched volume. ‘The Tales and True Records of Soulmates’”. She looked up at him in curiosity. “What did you need it for?”

He cooly replied with the strongest poker face he had, “My father told me to be well versed in all forms and matters of Jujutsu. Some origins of special powers were known to originate from soulmate or fated pairs, and thus it piqued my interest.”

“Ah. I see,” Utahime hummed. “Well, we can’t do anything about it, but I can ask the library heads if they know of the origins of this book, so that we can locate the missing pages. But if you’d like I can help you locate more books on soulmates? If that helps? But I can’t go now. Maybe next week after class starts.”

“Yes, if you could please do so. Thank you sensei.”

Noritoshi returned to his dorm, and upon remembering the flowers that you had gifted him from the little flower show from earlier. He brought them out, smiling and touching the soft petals.

Then set to work on pressing and preserving the flowers in a thick book.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[shimmershae]

So.  I have some more thoughts.  Shocking?  Yeah, I know, lol.

Let’s see if I can figure out how to purge what’s inside of my overactive brain and have it make some semblance of sense, shall we?  

Hmm.  

Where to start, where to start?  

Okay.  So I think it’s safe to say that the flashbacks pretty quickly establish that Daryl has essentially been set adrift.  He’s been cast back, in some ways by his own choosing, into a solitary searching life that speaks to his past.  He has no anchor anymore, no touching stone--whether that be Rick, who’s presumed dead, or Carol, who’s chosen by default to leave him behind and try to make a new family in Ezekiel and Henry.  

That’s important.  Because until this season?  Until he really matured and assumed, grudgingly or otherwise, the mantle of leadership of the communities?  

Daryl was a follower.  He took his cues from other stronger personalities.  Other people more quick to voice and own their opinions, right or wrong.  Like Rick.  And Merle before him.  

That’s not to say Daryl hasn’t had anything of value to say or add to the communities or to his relationships.  He has and he did.  Remember back at the Prison how Carol told him he was going to have to live with the love?  Daryl was just beginning to find his voice, so to speak.  He was emerging, even if they were only baby steps at first, from other seemingly more formidable shadows, and learning even then how to be more of a leader that people looked up to even if he was still content to be a follower.  

Being a follower was what he was comfortable with and I’m making some assumptions here, but I’d wager that in his abusive past with his old man, in that household first with Merle then on his own, being a follower and sticking to the safety of the periphery is probably what kept him alive.  Being a follower minimized conflict then, I’m sure.  Being a follower when he met up with and eventually connected with Rick and the rest of Team Family was probably the safest way for him to make emotional connections.  

I’m rambling.  I know it and I’m sorry.  It’s what I do.  Ramble, lol.  

Here.  I’m going to place the rest of this underneath a cut because I got more winding words than I have wind and most of ya’ll have patience.  

With Rick gone, with Carol off trying her damndest to live a fairy tale, Daryl floundered.  For all intents and purposes, he was left without any direction, nobody to take his cues from emotionally or otherwise.  

I mean, he literally made ever-widening circles searching for Rick, didn’t he?  Circles have no end point.  They have no real destination.  Not really.  Daryl essentially lived in a spin cycle of pain and regret and inability to really and truly connect with anybody during those years spent searching for Rick--especially since the person he arguably felt closest to and most comfortable with, Carol, basically decided those past connections Daryl was so desperate to find again were too painful for her and attempted to move on.  

He wasn’t emotionally equipped to or stable enough (perhaps still internally dealing with his anger and angst over his torture and imprisonment by Negan at that point in time) to put in the hard work to reestablish those fraying bonds on his own and the man basically lost the plot.  His world narrowed down to this latest search.  This search for a body.  For closure.  For a new purpose perhaps?  

And you know, the man had to be tired.  In some way or another?  He’s probably been searching his entire life.  It’s kind of what followers do.  They look for meaning outside themselves because they don’t feel like they’re enough.  

So then Dog, in the form of this happy, accepting, affectionate puppy appears out of nowhere.  He’s a welcome distraction and knowing Daryl’s propensity to try to reunite the lost with those they love, he started a new little search.  

That led him to Leah. 

Leah, who was alone.  Like him.  Leah, who knew how to survive.  Like him.  Leah, who was stuck in a place of grief.  Like him.  

Leah, who--and I don’t really feel like I’m going out on too far or precarious limb here considering how many parallels they literally slapped us in the face with during this episode--reminded him of someone he felt he couldn’t have, not even her friendship anymore because by her choosing to ‘be there’ for Ezekiel and Henry and the Kingdom she was always leaving Daryl behind and that’s a pattern we’ve all long suspected has really caused hurt for Daryl even if he’s long ‘accepted’ and dealt with it with stoicism.  

Boy, they really blew the lid off that issue didn’t they?  Oh, it was done rather quietly and in a surprisingly controlled manner, but the hurt it caused?  The tears and emotion it elicited was brought about with an almost surgical precision that stunned Carol, but I digress.  

My point is?  Daryl?  Innate follower that he is?  Daryl had grown accustomed to the human connection he found with Team Family.  He was never 100% comfortable with it but he missed it.  He craved it.  And Rick?  Well, deep down Daryl knew the likelihood of finding his ‘brother’ was minimal.  And with Carol pulling away and putting more and more distance between them--how deep and wide was that river, ya’ll, before the episode was done? when it started off looking like a small trickle of a stream?  how wide was that chasm these two idiots in painfully unspoken love allowed to be formed between them?--essentially the two closest people to him were lost to him, leaving him lost.  

So he stumbles upon this woman who is very reminiscent of people that he’s known.  He’s figured out, even though he keeps trying to buck the trend, that you really can’t make it alone in the world anymore.  And when she shows him some small measure of trust by letting him go?  That part of him that didn’t want to be alone kept drifting back into her sphere.  

Now I’m not going to go so far as saying Daryl fell in love with this Leah.  Because, shipping biases aside?  I really don’t feel like he did.  

Daryl found solace with Leah.  

Companionship.  

Remember another time when Daryl was lost?  When he felt he had failed another member of his family? Lost what he thought was the last of his family?  How alone he was at a crossroads when Joe’s group of Claimers came along?  

I’m not equating Leah with the Claimers in any other way except saying Daryl was in a similar headspace when he met her, okay?  Before anybody goes off on me.  I’m just saying that Leah?  She represented what Daryl felt was his one chance NOT TO BE ALONE.  

Daryl’s emotionally stunted, ya’ll. He’s made great strides, but trauma always seems to regress him.  Thankfully, it seems to regress him less and less as he really and truly matures, but it still has a habit of reverting him back to the Daryl we first met.  The Daryl we can easily see growing up in Merle’s shadow. 

When he threw that damn fish at her door, I literally laughed for ten straight minutes because that was funny as hell.  But honestly?  The more I thought about it, the more it dwelled in my mind?  The sadder it actually made me because here’s a grown man essentially trying to connect with another human being on an adolescent level.  

So much of what we were shown in this episode really just reinforced what I’d already suspected to be true--Daryl Dixon just doesn’t ‘get’ the basics of interpersonal relationships.  At least those that could be perceived as romantic.  For all that Carol mused it was like he had become a man back in Atlanta, during Consumed and their search for Beth?  That man is still very much trying to fumble his way out of the starting gate so far as pursuing a woman in any form or fashion.

This is just my opinion and we all know what they say about those, lol, but Daryl has longed for an even deeper connection with Carol since the Prison.  Maybe even before that. I think at the Farm his eyes were opened to her and he started trying to be a better person to match what he perceived as her goodness.  Before he even knew she wanted one, he was trying to be a man of honor.  Then stuff and thangs happened and shit, like Daryl once told Abe, just never settled.  Carol drifted out of Daryl’s reach because he wasn’t equipped with the emotional tools to really go after what he wanted--her in a deeper, different capacity than he’d ever wanted or asked for before--and shit, ya’ll.  If loneliness is a choice then Daryl Dixon was sick and damn tired of it.  

Do I think there’s even really a choice between Leah and Carol in Daryl’s mind though?  A true choice were he to absolutely, 100% realize and know that Carol’s heart was earmarked for him from the very beginning and that she’s suffering from the same delusions that she’s not good enough or deserving of him?  

Absolutely not.  

Leah knew that even if Daryl never divulged any specifics about Carol.  She knew the answer to her ultimatum before she even made it.  

And that ultimatum, ya’ll. 

Maybe it’s weird, but it put me in mind of when Merle pressed Daryl to make a choice between him and Team Family.  

Merle was blood family but like Carol and others said, he wasn’t good for Daryl.  

Leah might have offered Daryl some solace from his loneliness but ultimately staying isolated with her and not reconnecting with those he identifies as family is just as damaging as Daryl choosing to follow in Merle’s wake again.  Similarly to that situation, Daryl was clearly torn as soon as the words were out of her mouth.  

Between loyalty to family and unspoken love.  

In case there’s any confusion here, the unspoken love I’m talking about is his love for Carol.  He felt something for her back at that Prison.  Fight me.  He knew she’d be hurt by him going back with Merle, but obligation and family loyalty led him to make the decision all the same.  

Still. He knew she’d understand.  And she did, even if his choice hurt her.  

My thought is that this time?  At least initially?  Daryl didn’t completely separate his loyalty to family (searching for Rick) and his unspoken love (for Carol) when he made his decision.  They’re hopelessly entwined because Carol is a little bit of everything to Daryl--friend, family, the woman he loves and has been halfway in love with for so many years.  Initially, he chose the hope that both would come back to him if he just kept searching.  Because searching’s what he does.  From Sophia to Connie, he’s always searched in the hope of bringing the lost back to those that love them.  He’s always searched because nobody searched for him.  

Daryl is the ultimate lost boy who grew to be a man and still feels like he hasn’t been found.  

But how can he be found if the one person he wants to find him keeps running away?  

Daryl didn’t choose Leah.  

Not from his heart.  

Daryl turned back to Leah because he felt Carol slipping away to where he couldn’t follow her.  

If it can even be argued that Daryl chose Leah, it was by default.  Of course, he feels guilty.  Daryl wouldn’t be Daryl without guilt.  He wouldn’t be Carol’s man of honor.  

And he is Carol’s man.  

She may not be in the place to see it--YET--but she’s getting there.  She’s fighting hard against her natural inclination to run.  She’s trying.  She knows what she wants, even if she doesn’t believe she has the hope of getting it.  

Daryl knows what he wants, too.  He knows, once and for all, where he belongs.  He’s stopped searching.  He knows she’s right there.  There’s no more circles.  There’s just a final destination if he can convince the love of his fucking life to stop running from what they both want.  

He may have left that note for Leah, but you can’t convince this viewer that he didn’t write those words for Carol.  

And that’s all I got to say about that.  

For now anyway.  

Omigosh, lovelies.  

So sorry for the emotional word vomit but thank you so much for indulging me even if I did lose my original point somewhere up there, lol.    

[insomniacowl]

Neon Genesis Evangelion analysis chapter 22: Katsuragi Misato Part 1 The cross in her hand

Kaji's final gift

The three characters representing the "Second impact generation" are Kaji, Masato, and Ritsuko. They are respectively entwined with Asuka, Shinji, and Rei throughout the characters' developments. Both Kaji and Misato self-reflect on their own pain and suffering while observing Shinji's growth and passes on their "Will" to Shinji. This "Will," shared by Kaji and Misato, refers to the desire to understand the "Truth" and the motivation to overcome any adversities standing in the way. Misato climbed up the ranks to become a high-ranked official of Nerv. Kaji became a spy acting for multiple agencies and organizations.

Due to having chosen the more dangerous route, Kaji lost his life much earlier than Misato. Knowing his impending death, Kaji passed on the pieces of information to his unanswered questions to Misato through 'Physical intimacy.' In this chapter and next, we shall discuss Misato as a character and as a person who Kaji trusted solely and lovingly.

"Until the very end, Service, Service."

Katsuragi Misato

29 years old

Blood type: AB

Height: 163cm

Weight: 47Kg

Three Size: 33-23-32

Considering her diet and drinking habits, it is a wonder how she manages to maintain such weight and proportions. As the Nerv operations bureau's leader, she was a Captain at the start of the series and was later promoted to a Major. From her rank insignia and the information from Evangelion development documents, we can see that she is from the "Japanese self-defense force." As a young girl, she was caught in the Second Impact, and this incident left a large scar under her right breast; she seems to associate the scar with painful memories. She is the daughter of Dr. Katsuragi, who lost his life in the same second impact while saving her life. This act of sacrifice indirectly provided the reason for Misato's eventual employment at Nerv; the need to find the "Truth" and revenge against those that caused her father's death.

She moved into the third Tokyo city shortly before Sakiel's advance against the city. She became the Ikari Shinji's guardian after the battle. To her, it could have been a fulfillment of a desire to build an ideal family life, one she never had as a child. For the same reason, she takes in Asuka and, along with Penpen, forms a happy cohabitating unit of 3 human 1 bird family.

The house that she lives in was provided for her by Nerv and is large enough for three people to live together without much contestation for space. To touch on Penpen for a moment, he is an animal mascot sketched out by Sadamoto following Anno's request for an animal character to brighten up the show's atmosphere. The concept of a "Hot spring Penguin" is fictional. He eats human foods and drinks beer. Inferring from his human-like diet and ability to view TV or read the newspaper, we can guess that he was born from a mutation or a lab experiment. The backpack he wears on his bag is theorized by some to be a miniaturized fridge to keep him cooled. Due to security reason, he is sent off to live with Hikari (Shinji and Asuka's classmate) and makes his final appearance in the "Omedeto" Scene,

Katsuragi Misato in the development phase.

Misato is one of the rare characters whose design has not changed from the planning phase of the series, and on a side note, Anno was a big fan of the sailor moon series. Rei's name was inspired by Hino Rei (Sailor Mars). The design of Misato was based on the image Anno had of Usagi (Sailor Moon) as an adult. Adding to this point is the employment of the same voice actress (Mitsuishi Kotono) and Sadamoto designing their hairstyles to be identical. Furthermore, according to Sadamoto, Misato is a car enthusiast, and her room is full of related magazines and newsletters.

Returning to the topic, just like Shinji, Misato is a character who was designed with careful detail. According to Anno's production declaration (What is it that we are trying to make?) Similar in vain to Shinji being the child at the center of the Third impact, Misato was conceptualized to be the adult who was once at the center of the Second impact. Furthermore, both are inept at creating meaningful social bonds and are afraid of being hurt by the other. Lastly, they are both not used to communicating their needs to the people in their lives.

The difference between the two is that while Shinji feared interaction and ran away from the other, Misato made surface-level interaction with the largest number of people while hiding her true self under a mask. While Shinji's actions are understandable as he is only fourteen and made to shoulder an adult's responsibility, Misato is presented as a juxtaposition. Misato is presented as a child putting up an adult's veneer, showing her immaturity even as she is nearing her thirties. Asuka, who was acquainted with Misato during her service in Germany, described her lifestyle as 'Hypocritical.'

As we have discussed in the previous chapter, Kaji wore an irresponsible adult's mask to hide his serious side in pursuit of the Truth. In contrast, Misato wears a serious and bright adult mask to hide her cowardice and weakness. This would have worked against those that interacted with her on a surface level. However, it would have had to come off eventually, making it impossible to hide from people she lived with. This gave Shinji the perception of Misato as a 'hypocrite,' making it easy for him to reject her kindness and run away from her house.

Furthermore, when she lost Kaji and lost all willpower to put up that front, she could not care for the children physically nor care for their mental wellbeing. Concerning this, Asuka began closing herself up from Misato due to her jealousy for Kaji. Asuka also loved Kaji to the point she attempted sex appeal but was rejected for being "too young."

In episode 15, Asuka learns of Kaji's true feelings and begins feeling defeated, resulting in her bearing fangs against Misato. When her synchronization levels dipped below Shinji's in the following episode, her confidence in herself began to bottom, and Misato was in no position to offer help.

When Kaji began a more intimate relationship with Misato, whom Asuka perceived as mentally immature, Asuka was lost and began to distance her feelings from Kaji. Asuka's heart was broken, and there was no adult she could rely on. This point about Asuka will be covered more in later chapters.

Dr. Katsuragi

Before diving deeper into the character analysis of Misato, we need to understand her father, Dr. Katsuragi, more. He was a member of the Gehrin and the first person to theorize the working of the fruit of life; the S2 engine. The 'Super Solenoid theory (S2 theory)' first theorized in 1999 attempts to explain the mysterious energy source: the 'infinite spiral energy.' This being a fictitious theory, we can not go in-depth here. Still, for the sake of explanation, it is explained as a potential source of infinite energy that Dr. Katsuragi desired to use for humanity's good. Ironically and unfortunately, it was this theory that resulted in the tragedy of the second impact.

In the year 2000, the Doctor receives Seele's funding to form the Katsuragi expedition team. He leaves for Antarctica to prove his theory and perform the 'contact experiment' with Adam. While his theory was proven to be accurate, he losses his life from the 'eventual second impact. Our dear old Keel described the Doctor demeaningly, to quote, "The type of man who was blinded by his passion and unable to see reality," this statement is accurate, according to Misato. This makes him a figure similar in character to Gendou, someone whose work always came before all else, even his family. Causing Misato's mother to always cry tears of loneliness.

Misato understood the impact her father's absence had on the household. This resulting in the pressure to be a good child to please her mother. This leads her to refute others' descriptions of him as 'Kind and sensitive,' calling him 'weak and childish'; as someone who was irresponsible to his family and ran away from responsibilities. Misato's mother eventually divorces him, and she welcomed this separation. It seems that Dr. Katsuragi was shocked by this incident; Misato described it as getting his 'just desert.'

The cross: Dr Katsuragi’s memento

But of course, we have to answer one question regarding Dr. Katsuragi's affection towards his daughter; why did he bring Misato along to Antarctica in 2000? Since there is no mention of her mother in the series, we can infer that he gained custody of Misato after the divorce, thus being her only guardian. Yet to bring a young child to Antarctica was nothing more than putting her in danger. While he did not know of his impending death, bringing his daughter to such a place was downright irresponsible. While there is not enough detail about this, bringing Misato for the expedition might have been his way of showing affection. An imperfect way to express his love for her.

Here, we can draw a parallel with Ikari Yui's actions during her contact experiment. Perhaps the reason why the Doctor wanted to show Misato the contact experiment was the same as the answer Yui gave to Fuyutsuki; "To show this child the possibility for a bright future." And like the Ikaris, Katsuragis also separated in a tragedy. A tragedy for everyone involved.

Looking at the second impact scene, we can observe the Doctor covered in more injuries than Misato. This is likely due to him shielding her from harm using his own body.

With all of his remaining strength, he hoists Misato into an evacuation capsule. His face is covered in blood, and tears roll down his cheeks as he put his cross necklace around her neck. He draws his last breath. This necklace symbolizes the Doctor's love. The love for his family. And the love for humanity. He instills it in the cross and passes on all that he held dear to Misato. She now has to protect herself. But with the cross, the Doctor's desire to protect humanity also gets passed onto her. A burden too big for a little girl to bear.

Even though she claims to dislike her father, Misato is to be confused about what to feel about him; he risked his life to protect her after all. The biggest reason she is at Nerv and fighting the angels is likely to remember him and continue his legacy. Thus, the necklace is a protection charm and emotional support for Misato. We can see this when she desperately grasps the cross as Zeruel is about to shoot its laser.

The cross in her hand

To Misato, the reason for her battle against the angels has less to do with the desire to protect humanity. She fights, as Ritsuko points out in episode 12, as a form of revenge. She admits to this fact in episode 15 during her conversation with Kaji. This is the reason why she takes on near-improbable strategies based on her 'gut feelings.' Especially in episode 12's battle against Sahaquel, the likelihood of success was 0.00001%. The subtitle for this episode is 'Don't make others suffer for your personal hatred.' This perhaps was something Ritsuko (or even Misato herself) was thinking deep down.

Yet to chalk all of this up to a simple desire for revenge is reductionistic at best. The cross in her hand was concurrently the unfulfilled love Dr. Katsuragi had for his family and also the hope for a brighter future for mankind. It was also a Cross, the symbol of the weight of responsibility, and it was what she stood for.

Various iconographies of crosses in Evangelion

The beginning of the universe?

Touching on the cross as we conclude this chapter, we are bombarded with its iconographies across the series. The most notable being the flash of light produced when the angels die. Seeing that this is observable during the third impact, it perhaps symbolizes the soul exiting the body. Another memorable cross is the one we see flashing during the opening sequence.

In the production commentary, the blue dot at the very start of the opening, which expends out in a circle and into a "red gas," is revealed to represent the big bang and the start of the universe. This is followed by the crosses that make up the transition into the title screen, the same kind of visual directions used for the in-episode eye-catch.

Beyond the surface-level representations listed, there are many more hidden references to this iconography. In episode 21, after Yui's absorption into Unit – 01's core, Gendou's shadow carries a gigantic cross. The object casting this shadow is not shown as it is only a symbolic representation. It represents the responsibility that he will carry, One that Yui used to carry and Gendou perverts. The responsibility to forgive humankind's original sin. In episode 4, when Shinji runs away from NERV, he walks down a long path shaped like a cross. This symbolizes the heavy responsibility that he is Fated to carry. That he is destined to be burdened with.

As Anno has put it, Evangelion is like a puzzle to be pieced together. There are many more such scenes, but I will leave it as it is for your enjoyment of discovery.

TBC Chapter 23 Katsuragi Misato Part 2 Dear Shinji, this is my Truth.