#but in the end most of it is very trivial and unimportant

[thatiranianphantom]

the wicked's lives are lonely

In the end, Glinda Upland lifts gracefully into the sky, the sun gleaming a gentle rainbow around her bubble. The ride is smooth, the palace she arrives at is opulent, and maids dust her off carefully, changing her out of her magnificent dress and dressing her in a soft silk nightgown. She sits down to a full feast of the best Oz can offer, looks over letters from adoring fans and listens to the maids gushing over how perfect she looks and how happy they are that the dark shadow of the Wicked Witch was finally lifted thanks to her heroism. 

They speak about the meetings of the next few days, the ceremonies to officially swear her into power, the punishments sure to come down on the likes of Morrible and the disgraced Wizard. They, like everyone she meets, thank her profusely, awed by her magic and beauty and kindness. 

Aren’t you just so happy, Glinda? 

That’s what they ask her, and Glinda smiles her perfect, beautiful smile and assures them that she is, that’s she’s so happy, that this is all she ever wanted, her dreams coming true. 

Forever, this is all she’s wanted. A beautiful life, a beautiful palace, people falling at her feet in adoration. She’s in charge now. Morrible’s in prison, where Glinda will make sure she stays, the Wizard is gone, and it’s on her now. It’s everything, all she’s ever wanted. It’s forever.

And at night, she sleeps in a grand, soft bed, and it is the coldest thing she has ever felt. And then, the dreams begin. 

A whip of black hair, of green skin, of screams of pain, screams for her. 

Of rope digging into his wrists, his agonized cries, begging, pleading, please no. 

Of a puddle on the ground, a life dismissed, forgotten, unimportant. 

Of a smudge of blood in a cornfield, a life revered and then dismissed, taken at the hands of the very people she has just sworn to protect. 

Of two people who died, calling for her, alone. 

They died alone. 

Sometimes the dreams are softer, too. Sometimes it’s a giggle as the light turns out, a whispered promise of “see you tomorrow, best friend” and it feels warm, like love. 

Sometimes she dreams of how Nessa used to squeal in laughter as someone would whip with her around a dance floor. 

Or how Fiyero used to make it a competition to charm the librarian with the most pinched, angry look on their faces, to make everyone smile. 

How Boq used to keep a small pen and paper in his pocket and tally the times that Glinda would come weeping into the quad because of something trivial like her favorite highlighter being discontinued, and when he got to 20, they would all go for a picnic to festivate. Glinda would roll her eyes but accept an invitation anyway, and they’d lie on the blanket and watch the sun set. 

Those dreams, she thinks, are worse. 

That life feels a million years behind her, that warmth replaced with a cold sterility, the love gone as soon as she wakes up, fighting to hold onto the embers of a dream that slips through her fingers every time. 

And as soon as she opens her eyes, it’s replaced by empty-headed maids still speaking in hushed tones about the wickedness of the only real friend she’s ever had, the betrayal of the man who stood up for what she wouldn’t, the tragedy of a tin man and a witch so evil it’s like they were carved away on the inside. 

It’s like a vice gripping her throat, a vice she has to smile through, a duty she has to perform to a people who stripped away everything she has ever cared about. Forever. 

They died alone. 

And it’s fitting, really, because wherever they are now - and Glinda refuses, refuses to think of an afterlife where the best person she ever knew doesn’t get every bit of the happiness she deserves - they have each other. She imagines them at that picnic, on that hill at sunset, her absence barely felt. 

They died alone, and now, and forever, alone is all Glinda will ever be. 

It just shows, when you’re wicked you’re left only

On your own

[aspd-culture]

Contributing to the conversation, I think it’s, I’m gonna be honest, more likely that emotional abuse would boost the chances of aspd forming because children as a demographic are routinely gaslit, emotionally abused, dehumanized, and treated as property both by their caregivers (be they family, guardians, or teachers) or peers (other kids in school). Being dehumanized routinely as a child and thinking this is all you are to others, it would make sense that being on the receiving end of ‘antisocial treatment’ (as in, things that would prohibit social camaraderie and communal relations) would contribute to an antisocial mindset that persists in life.

Aspd is very specifically also a heavy impulse-based disorder too, underdeveloped frontal lobe and prolonged emotional trauma before the healthy development of that lobe that manages impulse control in social settings met with emotional abuse, it’s probably also why a lot of kids who do develop aspd could also end up with an exception for the person who treated them like a person but one person obviously cannot offset All of the damage the rest of their environment caused. I think aspd is perhaps somewhat more underdiagnosed *because* people don’t provide a lot of support to pwaspd when they’re adults because the adult with aspd has so thoroughly alienated themselves through their disorder that people just don’t care if they get help or communal care. Because it’s easier to just let pwaspd fall through the cracks because they’re “evil” and “don’t deserve it”.

So now you have someone who has spent their entire lives being proven left and right that they’re not cared about so “why the fuck should they care about anyone else, care is obviously conditional on my behavior and even when I mask, I’m not good enough”. Anyways, yeah, I absolutely think prolonged emotional abuse is absolutely a valid and understandable cause of aspd when we look at how we treat kids.

On the one hand, there is a lot here I completely agree with, but I do have some points I feel there is more to/have some nuance/etc.

So yeah, absolutely agree that emotional abuse seems a much more likely culprit for the development of ASPD than others (assuming of course that we're putting these in a vacuum, because realistically most children suffering other types of abuse likely experience emotional abuse as well. Not arguing with that at all. The reasons you mention here all make a lot of sense to me, and I want to add that one known to be a big one is teasing; many researchers believe that specific experience is very damaging to a child at risk of developing ASPD. Part of that is what you mentioned - the gaslighting and general disregard for the trauma teasing can cause and the hurt associated with it makes the child feel like they will not be protected in other situations. Because the child doesn't see this the way the adults do - as something "trivial", unimportant, and incomparable to "real" trauma - they don't realize that the adults involved would respond differently to other types of pain. They just believe, given their experience, that the adults will always minimize and disregard the problems they come to them with and therefore do not bother to ask for the help they know they won't get in the future. This creates the need to be self-sufficient and protect yourself and, without intervention from adults, the ways to do that are limited and generally either violent or manipulative. Children dealing with any type of disregard for their problems may also learn that they can manipulate the adults into reacting the way they need them to - a seemingly helpless, caring, "gentle", naïve, etc. child will get more help than the average one - and take that as a normal part of life.

I'd argue that dehumanization is less related to ASPD personally, not in that it can't be but in that it isn't a specific risk factor. Generally, that dehumanization of children is universal not pointed, and the child will see that children are treated like this, but adults are not, and that will stick in their development as it does to all children. The things that are generally considered large risk factors for ASPD's development are things that lead the child to believe will be a problem their entire life, and therefore their brain develops to tolerate that. An example here is that all children deal with restrictions and rules older children and adults do not have, and cannot do things older children and adults can do. They see this and rather than learn it as an issue with society, they simply become impatient to grow up. Dehumanization is a serious trauma that arguably most kids deal with, and it needs to be addressed and fixed for the good of children as a whole, but I don't think it specifically lends itself to ASPD if that is the only kind of emotional abuse the child is dealing with (again, putting these things in unrealistic vacuums for the purpose of this conversation). Now there is a MAJOR exception to this:

Dehumanization that goes to demonization absolutely is a heavy risk factor for ASPD. If you treat a child like they are all bad, or even actually call them a demon/devil/terror/etc. frequently and consistently enough, especially if they hear you doing it behind their back to other people, then they will take that in as a part of their identity. Children don't understand the fluidity of identity, which is why their current interest will always become their favorite thing, their answer to "what do you want to be when you grow up" will be intense and certain yet change every few days/weeks, etc. so when you identify them as a bad kid or worse, then they will behave that way because they think that is what they are supposed to be. This attempt at correcting a child's behavior generally leads against its own goal and makes the child believe you *want* them to be bad because that is what you told them they are. But the general dehumanization of children is honestly an overall societal problem and considering how low the prevalence of ASPD is (even accounting for under-diagnosis), I think it's probably not a leading factor. That's just personal opinion though, a good portion of my response to this ask is.

It's really important to me that we address the belief that impulse control issues are inherent to and a major part of ASPD, because that genuinely is not the case. While it is a part of the diagnostic criteria, I'd like to point out that only 3/7 of those need to apply, and impulse control doesn't need to be one of them. Allow me to explain why this is important to me before anyone writes off this please, because this one actually is not opinion based. ASPD is well known to be a disorder heavily based on trauma in the overwhelming majority of cases - purely genetic ASPD without any trauma exists but is not common at all afaik. Discussing the majority who are traumatized, it's important to note that a lot of types of trauma *do not allow for impulse control issues*, at the expense of the child's safety and emotional/physical wellbeing. It is dangerous for a child dealing with trauma bad enough to cause a personality disorder to not be able to control themselves, and part of what ASPD is is a means of self-preservation in the face of a seemingly hostile, dangerous, and uncaring world/society. Thus the symptoms we see in ASPD - aggression, defensiveness, self-sufficiency, distrust of others, manipulation, lying, charisma, etc etc etc - are things that would have kept the child safer and get them ahead. For the children who were at risk if they were not able to control impulses, that symptom has quite a low chance of developing. Therefore, I don't think it's fair to say that that is an inherent part of ASPD. Our understanding of the neurology of ASPD is also very undeveloped - all research of ASPD up to and including current has been and continues to be biased and ableist, specifically mostly including inmates imprisoned for long sentences due to violent crimes, especially extreme ones and repeat offenders. This is naturally going to lead to the idea that ASPD is always or almost always associated with poor impulse control - because your average person with ASPD is not going to be included in these studies to get an accurate representation. Until we do get a largely unbiased understanding of ASPD, I don't think we can decisively say anything about the neurology of it, and I've seen several researchers and mental health professions alike agree with the idea that we don't know anything conclusive about that at this point for various reasons, including admittedly the lack of cooperative response many pwASPD would give a study like that.

I also have some notes on the issue of underdiagnosis, because I think it's based in a similar concept to what you said, but for the opposite reason. The people most likely to be diagnosed with ASPD are ostracized and isolated, as far as I've seen. The problem with underdiagnosis really comes in with the opposite type of ASPD which may well be the majority. That is the people who have crafted a seemingly normal adjustment to life and society - people who have friends (whether they're actual friends or just a front to seem normal), have healthy or at least long-term relationships of some variety, seem caring and kind, and are generally either well-liked or at least have no more effect on the people around them than neutral. It's not the ones who have been mistreated and openly get dismissed as bad and evil even into adulthood who don't get diagnosed, it's those of us who *don't* fit that stereotype. It's something a lot of us fight tooth and nail to get people to understand; I'm aware I seem empathetic and caring but that is both possible for pwASPD to learn to be and possible to fake. It is that dismissal and demonization of pwASPD that leads to diagnosis - but not from the people being demonized or dismissed by society.

All in all I don't entirely disagree with any point you make here and I think all of it is an important piece of the discussion of the risk factors of ASPD, but I think this understanding is missing a good amount too.

Plain text below the cut:

On the one hand, there is a lot here I completely agree with, but I do have some points I feel there is more to/have some nuance/etc.

So yeah, absolutely agree that emotional abuse seems a much more likely culprit for the development of ASPD than others (assuming of course that we're putting these in a vacuum, because realistically most children suffering other types of abuse likely experience emotional abuse as well. Not arguing with that at all. The reasons you mention here all make a lot of sense to me, and I want to add that one known to be a big one is teasing; many researchers believe that specific experience is very damaging to a child at risk of developing ASPD. Part of that is what you mentioned - the gaslighting and general disregard for the trauma teasing can cause and the hurt associated with it makes the child feel like they will not be protected in other situations. Because the child doesn't see this the way the adults do - as something "trivial", unimportant, and incomparable to "real" trauma - they don't realize that the adults involved would respond differently to other types of pain. They just believe, given their experience, that the adults will always minimize and disregard the problems they come to them with and therefore do not bother to ask for the help they know they won't get in the future. This creates the need to be self-sufficient and protect yourself and, without intervention from adults, the ways to do that are limited and generally either violent or manipulative. Children dealing with any type of disregard for their problems may also learn that they can manipulate the adults into reacting the way they need them to - a seemingly helpless, caring, "gentle", naïve, etc. child will get more help than the average one - and take that as a normal part of life.

I'd argue that dehumanization is less related to ASPD personally, not in that it can't be but in that it isn't a specific risk factor. Generally, that dehumanization of children is universal not pointed, and the child will see that children are treated like this, but adults are not, and that will stick in their development as it does to all children. The things that are generally considered large risk factors for ASPD's development are things that lead the child to believe will be a problem their entire life, and therefore their brain develops to tolerate that. An example here is that all children deal with restrictions and rules older children and adults do not have, and cannot do things older children and adults can do. They see this and rather than learn it as an issue with society, they simply become impatient to grow up. Dehumanization is a serious trauma that arguably most kids deal with, and it needs to be addressed and fixed for the good of children as a whole, but I don't think it specifically lends itself to ASPD if that is the only kind of emotional abuse the child is dealing with (again, putting these things in unrealistic vacuums for the purpose of this conversation). Now there is a MAJOR exception to this:

Dehumanization that goes to demonization absolutely is a heavy risk factor for ASPD. If you treat a child like they are all bad, or even actually call them a demon/devil/terror/etc. frequently and consistently enough, especially if they hear you doing it behind their back to other people, then they will take that in as a part of their identity. Children don't understand the fluidity of identity, which is why their current interest will always become their favorite thing, their answer to "what do you want to be when you grow up" will be intense and certain yet change every few days/weeks, etc. so when you identify them as a bad kid or worse, then they will behave that way because they think that is what they are supposed to be. This attempt at correcting a child's behavior generally leads against its own goal and makes the child believe you *want* them to be bad because that is what you told them they are. But the general dehumanization of children is honestly an overall societal problem and considering how low the prevalence of ASPD is (even accounting for under-diagnosis), I think it's probably not a leading factor. That's just personal opinion though, a good portion of my response to this ask is.

It's really important to me that we address the belief that impulse control issues are inherent to and a major part of ASPD, because that genuinely is not the case. While it is a part of the diagnostic criteria, I'd like to point out that only 3/7 of those need to apply, and impulse control doesn't need to be one of them. Allow me to explain why this is important to me before anyone writes off this please, because this one actually is not opinion based. ASPD is well known to be a disorder heavily based on trauma in the overwhelming majority of cases - purely genetic ASPD without any trauma exists but is not common at all afaik. Discussing the majority who are traumatized, it's important to note that a lot of types of trauma *do not allow for impulse control issues*, at the expense of the child's safety and emotional/physical wellbeing. It is dangerous for a child dealing with trauma bad enough to cause a personality disorder to not be able to control themselves, and part of what ASPD is is a means of self-preservation in the face of a seemingly hostile, dangerous, and uncaring world/society. Thus the symptoms we see in ASPD - aggression, defensiveness, self-sufficiency, distrust of others, manipulation, lying, charisma, etc etc etc - are things that would have kept the child safer and get them ahead. For the children who were at risk if they were not able to control impulses, that symptom has quite a low chance of developing. Therefore, I don't think it's fair to say that that is an inherent part of ASPD. Our understanding of the neurology of ASPD is also very undeveloped - all research of ASPD up to and including current has been and continues to be biased and ableist, specifically mostly including inmates imprisoned for long sentences due to violent crimes, especially extreme ones and repeat offenders. This is naturally going to lead to the idea that ASPD is always or almost always associated with poor impulse control - because your average person with ASPD is not going to be included in these studies to get an accurate representation. Until we do get a largely unbiased understanding of ASPD, I don't think we can decisively say anything about the neurology of it, and I've seen several researchers and mental health professions alike agree with the idea that we don't know anything conclusive about that at this point for various reasons, including admittedly the lack of cooperative response many pwASPD would give a study like that.

I also have some notes on the issue of underdiagnosis, because I think it's based in a similar concept to what you said, but for the opposite reason. The people most likely to be diagnosed with ASPD are ostracized and isolated, as far as I've seen. The problem with underdiagnosis really comes in with the opposite type of ASPD which may well be the majority. That is the people who have crafted a seemingly normal adjustment to life and society - people who have friends (whether they're actual friends or just a front to seem normal), have healthy or at least long-term relationships of some variety, seem caring and kind, and are generally either well-liked or at least have no more effect on the people around them than neutral. It's not the ones who have been mistreated and openly get dismissed as bad and evil even into adulthood who don't get diagnosed, it's those of us who *don't* fit that stereotype. It's something a lot of us fight tooth and nail to get people to understand; I'm aware I seem empathetic and caring but that is both possible for pwASPD to learn to be and possible to fake. It is that dismissal and demonization of pwASPD that leads to diagnosis - but not from the people being demonized or dismissed by society.

All in all I don't entirely disagree with any point you make here and I think all of it is an important piece of the discussion of the risk factors of ASPD, but I think this understanding is missing a good amount too.

[darkmaga-returns]

THE documentary Climate: The Movie first released at the start of 2024 remains the most important contribution to the debate about the so-called climate crisis and antidote to today’s ‘alarmism era’ that is causing so much havoc with energy policy and supplies. The film is one and half hours of careful argument and evidence and requires considerable concentration! After its release we thought it would help, for readers’ reference, if we published the transcript in sections. This we did between April 2 and April 5 2024. We are repeating these over the Christmas period.

Yesterday we republished the film’s preamble followed by the first sections on the scientific history of the earth and the ‘history’ of CO2. Today’s transcript is of the next sections on natural climate change and extreme weather.

You can watch the full film here. The transcript follows: the sections in bold type are the commentary.

NATURAL CLIMATE CHANGE – CLOUDS

In Earth’s atmosphere there are powerful forces at work, and perhaps the most powerful of all are clouds.

JOHN CLAUSER: CO2 is quite unimportant in controlling the Earth’s climate. What is important is clouds. Clouds don’t absorb any energy at all, they simply reflect all the sunlight back out into space. Big bright white clouds and they vary dramatically from one day to the next. That is hundreds of times more powerful than the trivial effects of CO2.

But what controls the number and density of clouds on earth? Professor Henrik Svensmark, from the Danish National Space Institute, is in Jerusalem with the astrophysicist Nir Shaviv. Together they’ve been exploring cloud variation and its effect on climate. And, strangely, they’ve found a link between clouds and exploding supernovae, far off in our galaxy.

HENRIK SVENSMARK: When we have big stars, they don’t live very long relatively, only a few million years up to 40million years but they end their life in a huge explosion which we call a supernova.

[reginarubie]

not me hyperventilating because not only did you respond so sweetly to my emotional mess of a message but you also gifted me with a snipped of jonsa I was so close to tears at work during break. It feels so surreal having an author respond to their audience like this. So, if it isn’t obvious I don’t really do this because I’m more of a secret admirer aka silent reader type so sending ask and request always puts me on edge because I don’t want to be a bother. Thanks so much for answer and sharing the jonsa agenda!!!

Hi nonny,

don't you worry! Your message wasn't a mess, it was just emotional because you were and that is not something you should feel guilty about.

It's human to get emotional, even over trivial things, like a ship can be. Most of all it's okay to get emotional even on trivial things like fandom. It's not okay when you take it out cruelly on someone, because that is bullying, but as long as you share into your emotivity politely and kindly I don't see why anyone should feel entitled to answer impolitely or rudely.

I get it, I was a lurkerer too, until @sansaissteel found little, old introvert me and was like “that's it I am adopting you in the Jonsa family, come with me”.

And it's a work in progress, tbh I feel really humbled to be able to reach so many people and even in my little corner make the difference for them, even on something as little and unimportant as fandom. And I am blessed to say I can now count many Tumblr Friends that help me better myself, not only as an author but as a person as well.

All of this to say, you are not a bother, you could not be when you share your opinion honestly and politely, when you have something to say and you do say it, you add to table you do not take away. So please, do not feel on edge, we are all human beings and at the end of the day we all share in the same life.

We all know the five main emotions by heart and can empathize with them even if we never met, because they are universal. So I hope that next time you feel like sharing your opinion you do without feeling the edge that you did those first few times, you did great progress already because I can already feel the tone of your ask is more comfortable and I adore it.

There will be rude people in fandom, hell if I don't know, but you will always find a safe corner on this side of it, even if you make a mistake, as long as you are genuinely sorry;

We area't the Jonsa “family” for nothing.

Also, I am always fond of speaking with “my audience” as you said (God, I have an audience. I can't quite believe it) and I don't see why, as they make their effort to share their opinion I should diminish it or their feelings by being in and way rude.

So feel free to see this space, my blog, as a safe space.

Also yes, always happy to show the Jonsa agenda! As soon as I have the first five chapters ready (my only golden rule) I may very well post it!

Oh, and I have posted a snippet of next chapter of Tale of the Black Knight, go have a look if you want, and let me know what you think of it!

hope you have a great day!

Sending all my love~G.

[pangolinheart]

FFXIVWrite 2023 DAY 10 - FAIR PT. 2 (EXTRA CREDIT)

A continuation of yesterday's prompt! I had thought up a few more scenes of what Rhiki and Urianger might do at a fair together, but I didn't have enough time to fit them in, so I made them my extra-credit entry for today!

Rating: General Genre: Fluff, humor Characters: Urianger Augurelt, Z'rhiki Irhi (Warrior of Light) Word Count: 2,523 Content Warnings: None

“Y-you really don’t have to give it to me. You could pick out something else that you like!” Rhiki insisted, but Urianger shook his head, and once again proffered the almost-comically-large Major General plush in her direction.

“Nay, ‘twas always mine intent to bequeath the spoils of victory unto you.” He insisted with a chuckle. “’Twas my greatest of pleasures to assist. I would be most gratified if you would accept mine offering.”

Something about the formality with which he spoke about such a trivial matter made her snort with laughter. “Okay, okay, I’ll take it.” She relented, and accepted the awkwardly-sized stuffed toy. She beamed at it, then looked up at her companion. “Thanks, Urianger.”

“Think nothing of it,” he said with a flourished wave of his hand.

“I still can’t believe you actually did it,” she marveled. “That was… actually really impressive.”

He straightened his posture in exaggerated (well, for Urianger at least, she thought) pride. “’Twas but a trifle for one possessed of mine acumen.” She giggled. “In truth, ‘tis more of a feat of mathematics than physical prowess, and so did I find myself well-suited to the task.”

“And you’re taller, so you can get a better view. And throw from higher up.” Rhiki pointed out.

“This… may have also been a factor in mine estimations.” He admitted, making Rhiki huff.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t rub it in.” She griped playfully. “Anyway, what do you want to do next?”

Urianger considered this question, scanning the stalls and games lining the streets. “Hmmm,” He looked back down at her. “I am forced to concede that I am at a loss. Might thou proffer a suggestion?”

“Hmmm…” Rhiki hummed in a perfect echo of his sentiment. She squinted to read signs further down the street, wracking her mind for something that they would both enjoy. Her eyes landed on a purple tent towards the end of the road, decorated with silvery stars. “Oh! I have an idea. You’ll love this – fortune telling!”

“A fine suggestion!” Urianger agreed. “’Twill be most interesting to learn what might await us both in the future!”

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

Z’rhiki exited the tent with sagging shoulders, Fripon trotting along behind her.

Taking in her grim expression, Urianger questioned, “Were the seer’s predictions not pleasing?”

“Ugh!” Rhiki sighed. After a moment, though, she smiled, shrugging off the roegadyn’s ominous portent. “Don’t worry, though, it’s not that serious. It’s just in good fun.”

“May I ask what question thou posed?” He ventured.

“You really want to know?”

“I am most interested,”

With Urianger’s earnest golden eyes on her, she suddenly felt very self-conscious. She hoped she wasn’t blushing. “I asked her about my love life,” She admitted, not sure why she was so embarrassed to admit such a thing to him. Maybe because it seemed so frivolous.

“Indeed? And the results of the divination were not to thy liking?” She had thought he might find this amusing – that the Warrior of Light was preoccupied with such unimportant matters – but his expression was one of genuine curiosity.

She shook her head, the small braids on one side of her hair swinging back and forth. “Nope. Apparently the future looks grim. Disastrous even.” Saying it out loud, she was struck by how comical it sounded, and suddenly burst out into a short fit of laughter.

Though her giggling eased the serious expression on his face back into a small smile, he still placed a hand on her shoulder. “Take heart, my friend! It presseth against the boundaries of belief that one with true knowledge of the stars’ designs would be found offering their wisdom to the public for a mere 50 gil. And, as we both well know, even the will of the star itself  can be changed.”

Still snickering, she swatted his hand off of her shoulder. “I know that, silly! I appreciate the thought, though. Now, your turn!”

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

Z’rhiki was crouched down, entertaining Fripon with a long, tufted weed she had plucked from the ground, when Urianger stepped back out into the light of the fair. She straightened up to her full, inconsiderable height.

“Well, how’d it go?” She demanded when he was close enough that she didn’t have to shout.

“The soothsayer hath revealed to me that, in my previous incarnation on this star, I did live as a thistle mole. A most intriguing supposition.”

Rhiki almost choked on her own laughter. “A thistle mole?” She cackled. “Why were you a thistle mole?!”

Urianger remained unfazed, his tone still good-humored. “Must there be a reason for any single creature’s existence?”

It was one of those esoteric questions that tended to pop up in conversations with him, and her laughter subsided as she contemplated it… whatever it meant. She decided a fair was hardly the place for such deeply involved rumination, however, and quickly changed the subject.

“Let’s- Let’s save that question for another time, shall we?” She suggested. “Anyway, why did she tell you about your past life? She didn’t tell me about my past life!”

“Mayhaps mine ‘aura’ did suggest that such knowledge would be of the greatest benefit to me?” He posited, lightly.

“Well I don’t see how. Did you tunnel in the dirt as a thistle mole? Eat bugs? Get chased by angry botanists?”

“Such details were not afforded to me by the reading. Presumably, I would have done all of these things and more.”

“What more does a thistle mole usually do?”

He must not have had an answer to this question, she thought, because his reply was unnecessarily cryptic. “What more need a thistle mole do?”

“Uhh…” Not only did she not have an answer, she had no idea what type of answer the question called for. So instead, she posed a different one as she led them away from the fortune telling tent. “Okay, what do you think I was in a past life?”

Urianger gave this some thought. He searched, it seemed, for an answer that would not offend – much like a real carnival fortune-teller. “Mayhap thou were a goblin. This would explain thine affinity for them, and the ease with which thou art able to communicate with them.”

“That’s because I spent a lot of time around Idyllshire, not because I used to be a goblin,” She pointed out. “Plus, who doesn’t like gobbies? They’re cute!”

“Then mayhap… a dragon?”

She shook her head. “Now you’re just trying to flatter me! There’s no way I was a dragon! That’s the best you’ve got? I thought you were an astrologian! Ask the stars or something!”

“Nay, thou art correct.” He conceded, “I did not consider thy question with adequate diligence. Prithee wait a moment. I shall consult the stars.”

She stopped walking a step after he did. “Wait, you’re not actually going to try right now are you?”

Urianger held up a hand to silence her, his face already turned skywards. They stood there for more than a minute as he gazed at the stars. Rhiki was starting to worry people would notice the strange behavior when she saw Urianger nod in understanding. “I see…” He muttered.

“What? What is it?”

He looked down at her with a serious expression. “The stars hath lent me their wisdom. In thine past life, I believe thou to have been a common garden worm.”

“WHAT?!”

This time it was Urianger who laughed, a sound that might have been strange and unfamiliar to her had she not been so flustered. “I almost believed you for a second!” She exclaimed, giving him a light slap on the arm. “I can’t believe you said I was a worm!”

Urianger did his best to contain his laughter, though failed to actually do so. “Mine apologies,” He offered yet again. “Shall we proceed to another attraction?”

“Ugh, whatever! I bet I was the coolest worm ever! All the other worms probably loved me!” She grumbled as they resumed their walk.

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

“Thy training as a dragoon still serveth thee well,” Urianger observed as they pushed through the curtains at the exit of the small “Haunted House” – though rather than a  house guests were taken through a temporary wooden construction designed for easy assembly and disassembly.

“Huh?” Rhiki asked, not quite following. She leaned down and scooped up Fripon as they descended the handful of steps to the street. She squinted at Urianger. “Was that… a joke? Are you making fun of me?”

“Nay nay,” He insisted jovially. “I merely surmised that the instinct to leap with such height and distance in response to fright must have been instilled in thee during thy many hours of practice with the lance.”

“You are making fun of me! I wasn’t scared! I was just… startled! I’ve fought way scarier monsters than a lalafel in black robes who grabs at your ankles! And at least I was paying attention! You were so interested in the displays that you completely missed one of the jump scares.” Though the interior had been kept intentionally dark, she could clearly remember seeing the confusion on one actor’s ghoulishly painted face as he leapt from a hidden door, fake knife in hand, only to find that his victim had failed to even notice his entrance. Rhiki had found the scene hysterically funny,

Urianger nodded, unbothered by the accusation. “It is indeed impressive that the organizers are able to use such limited resources to such great effect. To use scarlet sap mixed with currant juice to create the impression of fresh blood displays a commendable dedication to their craft.”

“I still can’t believe you almost tasted that,” Rhiki said. “I guess I never really thought about it before? You see stuff like that at haunted houses all the time. Cotton bolls used for cobwebs and all that. Oh! But did you see the big diremite? That was pretty cool!”

“Indeed. ‘Twas most frightening.” Urianger agreed, though she hadn’t seen him so much as flinch during the entire experience. “The application of simple thaumaturgy to create the effects of mist and thunder was quite ingenious.”

Rhiki glanced over to another section just off  of the main street, where she saw light whirling around. “If you like that, you’ll love this! Some of the local conjurers use wind-aspected magic and old barrels to made spinning rides! Let’s do that next!”

Having released Fripon, she skirted back towards the entrance of the attraction to pick up the prize Urianger had gifted her, which the attendant graciously had offered to hold for her while they were inside. Upon returning to where he stood, she grabbed him by the wrist with her free hand and tugged him along with her. “C’mon, let’s go!”

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

“Well, what did you think?” She tried not to sound smug as she watched Urianger stumble off the attraction after her. “Was that fun, or what?”

The contortions of his face as the seats hurdled and spun had already told her what he would say. Urianger groped at the nearest solid surface to steady himself, eyes knit together in a pained expression. “Surely… thou jests.”

“Maybe a little,” She admitted, snickering. She reached up to pat  his shoulder, a feat which she had to stand on the tips of her toes to accomplish.

Urianger groaned. “It defies my comprehension… that so many should willingly subject themselves to such a harrowing experience… as a form of entertainment.”

“I dunno. It makes sense to me.” Rhiki shrugged. “But I probably should have warned you it might make you a little woozy. That’s why I thought we should do it before we ate.”

“I-indeed. A wise choice.” Urianger managed. “Thy constitution is, as ever, alike to iron. Truly a fortunate quality to possess…”

She offered him an encouraging smile. “Are you alright?”

“Yes… I believe I shall recover shortly.”

She gave him a few moments to catch his breath and reassemble his insides. She was reminded of their first journey to Thavnair, when they had all ended up with aether sickness from the experimental aetheryte trip. It put her in mind of an idea.

“Oh, remember that lassi that Estinien bought us when we first landed in Yedlihmad? Maybe they’ll have something similar here. You wait here and keep an eye on Fripon for me, I’ll be right back! When you’re feeling better, we can get some festival food and head to the pier – I think my favorite part is starting soon!”

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

“Oh, wow!” Rhiki’s voice, though soft, rose over the crackling above them, and she pointed. “Did you see that bright purple one? I wonder how they get them that shape…”

Urianger didn’t respond, but took another sip of the pink, melon-flavored drink he had purchased. Rhiki had informed him that it was a popular choice at summer festivals. At their feet, Rhiki’s unicolt lapped at a small bowl of shaved ice she had purchased for him.

Urianger glanced down at the miqo’te, watching her tear another chunk off a large piece of fried dough and pop it into her mouth. Her eyes never left the sky, where above them another volley of colorful fireworks exploded, some twinkling out of existence and others leaving glowing streaks in their wake as they spiraled. She was leaning over the pier’s iron railing, eyes wide and her lips, though parted in wonderment, forming a clear smile.

“Oh, pretty!” She murmured and he smiled as well. Once the last sparks of light from the cluster had vanished, she suddenly noticed his eyes on her.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shook his head. “’Tis nothing of import. ‘Tis simply nice to see thee so thoroughly enjoying thyself. The sight of such a genuine smile on thy lips has become a rarity these past some-odd years.”

Her ears lowered a fraction of an inch, and she fidgeted, her eyes darting to the side. “What? I smile all the time!” she insisted, though she seemed somewhat embarrassed that he had noticed such a thing.

He watched her face for a few seconds longer, but then shook his head. “Thou art correct. Mayhap it was but a trick of the light. Pay me no mind.”

“Okay,” she said, relaxing a bit. “You should be watching the fireworks anyway! They’re beautiful!”

“Just so.” He was about to follow her advice when he felt a tugging on his robe. He glanced down to find that Rhiki’s unicolt had reared back on his hind legs and planted his forehooves against his own calf. Fripon craned neck to look up at him.

“I think Fripon wants some of the melon from your drink.” Rhiki observed.

Chuckling, Urianger knelt down. He fished a piece of Allagan melon from the drink and offered it to Fripon, who eagerly accepted the treat, going so far as to lick the juice from his hand. “A reward for his exemplary performance as a friend and companion.” Urianger declared. The unicolt whinnied.

“Fripon says thank you,” Rhiki pretended to translate. “Now come on, you’re going to miss the grand finale!”

With a smile, he rose to his feat and the two watched as a spray of fireworks lit the sky.

[neonpiegon]

Erosion

In school, there was this event, a design congress, and I was staff at it. Nothing too demanding, to be honest. The most tiresome part was being up and around the whole day and finding someone to help out.

At this event, there were two coordinators, managers, or however you want to call them. Long story short, one of them, A, held up almost the whole event on their own because B was too useless. Very commendable; that person earned my respect while other one lost it. By the end of the event, we were all tired of B, who only nagged and demanded very rudely from the staff, and upheld unnecessary rules that benefited no one, even talking poorly about A at times. We all sided with A when they said they wanted to talk with B about this whole situation, and "give feedback, for their own good".

I sometimes praise myself for being able to read people's personalities accurately, and this was no exception. A claimed that B should apologize about their behavior to everyone and resign from the coordination role... but, what for? The event was over, what was there to gain? Many of the staff, including myself, followed A in their scheme to receive a sincere apology from B, but there was another factor: staff C. This C person had some intense friction with B during the event, and was the most adamant, even more than A, to receive an apology. Or so they said that was the objective.

B was lazy, useless, arrogant, pedantic, selfish, annoying, rude, martyr, uptight, and overall a toxic element to the whole team, which is specially important because they were one of the two leaders, and earned many enemies during this event. A was dedicated, comprehensive, calm, sympathetic, useful, and a team player, and gained the respect of many of the team. It would seem pretty obvious that, in the case of a dispute, one would side with A, and that assumption would be correct. However, in the meantime that A coordinated the staff to prepare arguments for why B was such a liability to the team, they showed their true colors.

The first thing to ask is: was B really a liability? We all agreed that A carried the event on their backs and the event was, relatively, a major success. But if B's behavior was so unacceptable, then, as one half of the event's management, most things should have fallen apart. One could say that because A put so much effort, the event was not a failure. However, I also say that B's participation in management was so insignificant that their unintentional disruption should be, proportionally, also insignificant in the grand scheme of things. They were not intentionally trying to sabotage the event; in fact, they upheld most of the rules given to them. So, what was the real problem?

The problem was that, through many of the actions and decisions of B, A and C felt deeply offended by their rude behavior. They wanted to confront B about it, without causing much commotion, and because we all felt disgust towards B and respect for A, many of us supported them, faithfully and blindly.

If this problem was truly about the event, they could have involved higher authorities with concrete arguments about why B was such a bad coordinator... but they had nothing. Only sentences where their ego was hurt, but nothing really that proved B had done irreparable damage to the institution. Was B a good leader or manager? No, absolutely not. But their actions did not harm the event whatsoever, only the morale and attitude of the staff. A and C were not looking for an apology from B, they were out on a personal vendetta to mend their fragile egos about trivial stuff. A wanted B to admit that they were particularly bad at their task and that A upheld almost on their own; they wanted B to return verbally the credit that they did not deserve. They wanted the acceptance of being the better leader by the other half that did nowhere near as much work, yet they both receive the same. Understandable... but horribly unimportant.

C on the other hand, wanted more regret. C had tedious tasks, but nothing extraordinary. What I noticed, by working with them, is that they lack patience, and purposefully choose the more complex path to complete a labor. The stress they suffered was only theirs, as if they meticulously searched for reasons to be stressed out. The instance that really bothered C was that they invited someone over to a restricted area. The day before, we had the issue of non-staff personnel coming over to that area, so C knew it was not permitted. However, A authorized that C could bring that certain guest into the area. B later noticed, and kicked the guest out and scolded C. But the problem, other than B greatly limiting the enjoyment of the event, is that C knew that was going to happen yet ignored it completely. B was so rigid, inflexible, and because A permitted the action did not mean at all that B would, and everybody knew that would be the case. No matter how douchey it seemed, it was well known B would do that, including C. Yet C was so angry at that, and took it personally. Again, we supported them because we all disliked B.

Days later, both were still obsessed with B's regret. Yet for B everything was over, and that was the correct mindset. There was absolutely no use or benefit of A and C still looking for their revenge. Today, it still serves absolutely no purpose. They said it was feedback for B's own benefit, but it was nowhere near that at all. It was purely a tantrum of two people who felt offended by another. It could have been all so easily resolved by just letting B know they wouldn't be able to coordinate again, and THAT IS IT. They knew that if they involved a higher authority, they could not provide any concrete evidence of B's mistakes, only personal feelings towards them. The rest was all a personal grudge because of their damaged egos who led them to persecute someone who didn't even care anymore. They wanted to let B know their "mistakes" so that B could feel bad, just as B made them feel. And it served absolutely no purpose. People like B never, ever, accept their mistakes. They do not acknowledge them, and they do not become a better person because of it. I told A many times that this "feedback" would serve to naught, but they didn't listen. Instead, here we are, with the team in shambles because of personal pursuit of vengeance, and because I was relatively neutral and like to laugh in the face of adversity, I was also caught in the crossfire.

A was so weirdly immature and shameful, begging B to apologize and then raging because B didn't accept their mistakes or A's effort.

B was so selfish and egocentric, refusing to even face the team and just ignoring any kind of criticism, to the point of even shifting the blame onto others.

C was unnecessarily chaotic and vengeful. They knew they were breaking the rules and then got angry for getting caught. Ridiculous.

And me? Well, I got fucked by everyone because I like to make people, and myself, laugh in tense situations. I do not believe there is a scenario that is too serious where you can't laugh, and I had to pay for that. I supported A and C through most of their vengeful odyssey, but by the end I felt more in a neutral ground, almost feeling pity for B.

The main takeaway is that this adage of revenge served no fucking purpose at all other than fueling A and C's necessity for retribution. This could have been resolved so easily and smoothly, but they both badly wanted to make B suffer, and this will never resolve until all three of them recognize their own intentions.

[atlasphoebus]

READINGS - STARRY MESSENGER: COSMIC PERSPECTIVES ON CIVILISATION

Written by internationally renown and celebrated astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson, Starry Messenger: Cosmic Perspectives on Civilisation goes beyond the notion of the individual and the human lifespan. While we live in a world where are constantly told that it is all about us, that we are the main character and the center of our own universe, Starry Messenger pushes the reader to expand their perspective to that so far outer than our own planet that we become indistinguishable and, while not unimportant in ourselves, unimportant to the universe as a whole and in deep time. Instead of viewing human beings as the be all end all of evolution and of life, as the smartest and most powerful living things on the planet and our solar system, it illustrates the reality that we, in fact, are not. That we are still animals, and just a small segment within the great expanse of the cosmos. That our things that we hold as superficially important, the time we invest in these things while peace, happiness and fortune evades as, as we actively destroy our planet, none of this is important. And, if life really did exist outside of Earth, and was advance enough to travel to view us, it would be so far beyond us in intellect that we would mean nothing to it. If we know that a chimpanzee has the same perceived cognitive ability as a human four year old, and we know the difference in mental capability that a four year old has to a 33 year old, imagine what the difference would be between ourselves and an alien species of which we can only measure to one of their four year old children. The cosmic perspective goes beyond the trivialities of daily life, and focuses on the beauty of the expanse of life, death, birth, destruction, natural disaster, evolution and the infinity and finiteness of the universe. I feel personally that even before reading this book, a huge thing that helped me from my depression was becoming a part of the cosmic perspective. So many of my interests lay within realms that make my individual life so small, like natural history, deep time, microbiology, and astronomy that the macro and the micro seem to wipe out any significance or permanence of the self, which I find very calming. So to read an entire book about it was to expand upon what I had already come to know, and felt very validating. It also operates as a kind of vessel for thoughts around the liminal, that there is so much grey area within the universe, and so little black and white, that binary ecology becomes so insignificant and purposeless. There is so much that exists outside these parameters that we create through human intervention and perception, especially in a historically Christian influenced Western world, and it brings me so much joy to be able to relish in the in between of the cosmos itself.

[dancingamongstdust]

Can you write a tsukishima kei X reader where they both tease eachother but don't realise that they have feelings for eachother. Then tsukishima says something really offensive to reader and she gets really upsets and ignores him, he then realizes his feelings for her?

I struggled writing this but it was actually quite fun! Thank you for the request.

Teasing was something fun. The tumbling words were light and playful, hinting at something more but never letting their secrets free.

You lived for the flash of annoyance in Tsukishima’s hazel eyes; a small smirk always betraying that he enjoyed the banter. Whether you were speaking to him or commenting loud enough to draw his attention, he would turn to you fully and respond in kind. Though his words dripped in sarcasm, you never took them personally.

Perhaps you should have. Your comments never held any malice and you always strayed away from actual insults.

Tsukishima didn’t quite understand that part of your game.

Some of the things that he said stung. In those times, you’d just flip him off and pretend to go about your day without a second thought. But they did bother you.

Enough to find you standing in front of your mirror and glaring at your reflection as though it could give you the answers. Everything about your relationship with Tsukishima was frivolous. You had never held a real conversation. He was just a stupidly confident man with a sharp tongue and honeyed hair. His glasses were ridiculous, his taste in music was poor, and his eyes were the type of golden brown that snatched your breath from your lungs.

You groaned and turned away from your reflection.

Why did you have to fall for him?

Was it because of his voice and the soft edge that lay beneath its harsh words? Perhaps the gentleness of his movements had drawn your attention. He never looked out of place and you envied him that.

You contemplated telling him initially but decided against it. Getting a better feel of his attitude towards you would help before any misguided confessions slipped out.

That lasted until the next day.

“I know I shouldn’t be expecting anything intelligent to come from you but think things through a little more before you speak.”

Tsukishima glanced down at you as he passed, the hint of a smile on his lips. The insult wasn’t meant. He had often mocked your intelligence before to little response – after all, he knew that you didn’t get easily offended.

This time though, you didn’t immediately respond and when you did, it was just a slight jab about something trivial.

He turned around to look back at you but you had hurried off somewhere.

Shrugging that off, he continued on his day until the next time he saw you. When he did, he waited for the retaliation.

And waited.

And waited.

He was so focused on listening out for your snide comment that he didn’t even pay attention to his other conversation. Yamaguchi, thankfully, didn’t need an active participant in his discussion. He only seemed minorly confused by Tsukishima’s confusion before continuing.

Once you’d left, he sighed and said, “Maybe it’s been a bad day.”

Tsukishima glanced over his shoulder to confirm you hadn’t walked back in. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You didn’t, like, call her a bitch, right?”

“What? Obviously not.”

Yamaguchi shrugged. “Then don’t worry so much about it. She’ll be back to normal soon.”

Tsukishima scoffed, electing to pretend the conversation was unimportant. He changed the topic onto something that was more in his area of expertise but his thoughts kept hanging on you. It irritated him to no end and he spent the rest of the day snapping a little too harshly at everybody.

The next day went no better.

He waited to hear your voice, having never realised before how well he knew it. It was something missing from his day and he didn’t even know why.

“It’s not my fault if she’s going to be sensitive about stupid stuff,” he stated when Yamaguchi next commented about your unusual silent treatment.

“Nope. Some people are just soft.”

“You’re one of those people,” Tsukishima had retorted. He meant it mockingly though any kind of rudeness had little effect on his best friend. It was part of who he was… he had really believed you understood that.

Yamaguchi tried to move on but Tsukishima continued with his complaints.

“Why would she just suddenly start taking offense to things?”

“Maybe you hit a nerve.”

“How was I meant to know she was touchy about her intelligence? Anyway, it was days ago. She should be over it by now.”

“If it’s bothering you that much, just say sorry.”

“It’s not bothering me.”

He wasn’t stupid – of course, it was – but he was hardly about to tell somebody that. You were nobody to him and your lack of comments was an absolute relief. In fact, he was rather happy that you had decided to finally take the hint.

A whole month passed and he stopped waiting to hear your voice. His stubbornness kept any apology away from you, even though one accidental meetup in the hall had nearly drawn one out. It was honestly ridiculous, he had nothing to apologise about.

He could apologise just to have you speak to him again… Tsukishima quickly chased away that traitorous thought. It was rare for him to apologise for things that actually required it, let alone for nonsense like this. A simple fact that everybody he complained to seemed to directly refute.

Just apologise. Just apologise. Like he cared enough to do so.

It took him another two months to realise why he minded so much. Why he was still hung up on you despite your supposed non-importance.

He had been walking with Yamaguchi when they passed a flower store, the place having a special on roses for your loved ones. Yamaguchi had decided to get some and for a split second, Tsukishima had touched the petals and considered buying some for you.

He pulled his hand away as though it had been burned.

“Normally you get fifteen for a situation like this.”

He scoffed at Yamaguchi. “You really need to deal with your obsession about this woman.”

Tsukishima didn’t buy fifteen roses but he realised then what it was about you that bothered him so. And he absolutely hated the conclusion that he came to.

He stepped in front of you the next day, drawing your attention to him (though he didn’t know that it rarely left). “Why are you ignoring me?” he asked.

“I’m not?” It sounded like a question, even to you.

Tsukishima wasn’t going to argue with you about it. He just raised an eyebrow and waited for you to sigh and continue.

“I’m just… I…”

“Wow that explains it very well.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Would it kill you to say something nice?”

“Since when have we ever been nice to each other?” he asked.

Of course you didn’t have an answer for that. You had never been ‘nice’ to each other – at least not in the way most people would consider nice. But the thing was, those moments still came to your memory fondly.

“You know, I always made sure never to actually insult you,” you said.

“I never actually insulted you.”

“Yes, you did,” you pointed out. “You’re constantly pointing out how stupid I am or how uncoordinated I am or whatever!”

“It’s not like I meant them.”

That tripped you up a little. Tsukishima’s height had you looking up at him, his expression entirely unchanged. Why would he have said things that weren’t true? It wasn’t like you had even initiated this entire taunt exchange way back when you had first met. Sure, you had responded but it was his comment on your hair that had gotten to you.

“You didn’t… what?”

Tsukishima stared at you like you were stupid. “It’s not my fault if you choose to take things personally but get over it a bit quicker, would you?”

It wasn’t an apology, not by a long shot, but it was enough to explain something that you couldn’t quite pinpoint yourself. Tsukishima wanted to talk to you. Even if he thought you were being childish, his main problem lay in your sudden silent treatment.

“We’re not friends,” you said.

“No.”

“So why do you care if we’re talking or not?”

He shrugged. “I don’t.”

He did. Of course he did. Part of him wanted to say that but his pride just wouldn’t allow it. Thankfully, the message seemed to get through to you regardless.

“Do you want to go out for lunch?” you offered.

“Why would I ever want to do that?”

You smiled, noticing the small smirk’s appearance on his face. “Tomorrow. At 12.”

“Fine.”

Tsukishima left you standing there, refusing to glance back even if he wanted to. He told himself it was because he didn’t care and it had nothing to do with the uncharacteristic smile on his face.

[seriouslysam8]

Can I ask something bluntly? Why do some people here in the comments act so... strange and weird about unimportant stuff? I remember when you first started Legerdemain and it was all great and amazing and people interacting here on you blog was a cherry on to top and fans were actually asking thought-provoking and interesting questions, but after some time it got... weird.

Suddenly all that was important was:

- "No X Character has the biggest and most veiny dick!"

- "Nooo I'm gonna cry because that's not fair to the Y Character! Y Character has the most beautiful humongous dick! And amazing abs! I'm gonna cry if Sam doesn't confirm this!"

Suddenly all that everyone stressed about was: dick size, ass size, attractiveness, height and other trivial stuff.

At first it was all just a good fun, people were mostly joking but honestly I think the tone has shifted after a while. Now, a lot of these people seem genuinely stressed and horrified if their fave character isn't the Best at Everything, which I find both hilarious and weird at the same time.

Can I ask the fandom something? Is dick size/height/physical looks THAT important to you in fictional characters? Are we all really that shallow?

I mean, I know that physical looks are important to some degree but honestly I've seen people here arguing vehemently more about character's genitals rather than their actions/goals/thoughts, which makes me believe you have a very young (I'm guessing female) audience who think having the biggest penis is the most important thing in the world.

Like I said, it was fun at first but I think it got out of hand fast because everyone got so competitive over their fave characters. (Ironically a lot of these people were acting like George, who's main obsession and goal in life was to see Harry's dick so maybe the fans took inspiration from him XD)

Does it bother you sometimes that you receive (forgive me for saying) rather stupid and childish questions about this stuff? That people basically throw virtual temper tantrums if you even slightly disagree with their handcanons about X Y Z's stuff? It sounds so exhausting.

I want to start off by saying I appreciate everyone who reads my stories. I appreciate all of your asks on tumblr. I downright fucking love you if you take the time to write a review and you are my special superstars that I want to hug and squeeze the living daylights out of you.

But this ask hit me hard because it’s something I’ve been feeling for awhile.

Honestly, I don’t know why there is such a fixation about it on my tumblr. I’m not a smut writer and the only thing I can think of is because I dabbled in smut in Legerdemain and in Brio. But it has turned me off to writing smut, to be completely honest. Since I haven’t been writing smut in Legerdemain anymore, I’ve noticed a decrease in not only those asks but in general traction and reviews with the story as a whole which is disappointing.

I’m not going to lie, I do get tired of the dick debate. I’ve said before I don’t have that stuff in my character charts and I don’t really think too much on it. Writing smut was a fun exercise and the initial discussion was fun and interesting… until my opinion was wrong and I wasn’t allowed to have that opinion so I was bombarded with asks to convince me otherwise. Then there were complaints that I didn’t make him big enough or I can’t have James being as big as Albus and Harry or I can’t have Albus bigger or they can’t be a normal big but have to be really fucking big. At the end of the day, I just didn’t care so I just said whatever and put less of that in my stories so it wouldn’t be talked about as much. It was fun at first with the jokes from George or even the debate at first on tumblr, but some of the fun did get sucked out of it.

In short, I get disheartened by it. If I was a smut writer, it would be more on par with my writing. But I don’t write smut. I write angst and complicated storylines. I feel like sometimes nobody cares about the amount of work and effort it takes to write such complicated storylines because I get asked constantly when the next smut scene is or people say the Hinny fandom doesn’t care what the storyline is as long as they’re having lots and lots of sex. So, I don’t know. It is frustrating at times and I wonder why I even post very complicated and complex storylines because very few of my readers seem to fully appreciate it.

[nikkywrites]

Find The Word Tag 22

Thanks for the tag @sleepyowlwrites! My words are ungrateful, uncomfortable, unpleasant, unasked, unopened and unseen, though I had to take out the 'un' from a few. All from LAWLB.

Grateful

The Deep Queen believes later to mean a great deal of time later and perhaps she is right, with most beings. Calypso is rarely accused of being like most, however. And she should know that. Expect things like this.

If she didn't -- well, it wasn't Calypso's problem, only her amusement.

She twists herself upright, angling for Amphitrite's palace, sat above on higher sea floor a healthy distance away. Distance she'd been unsure about at first but is overwhelmingly grateful for now. She requires distance from Poseidon and she requires Amphitrite nowadays, since she wed.

Uncomfortable

Calypso approaches and muses his hair. "I know where your boundaries are, Little Death," she says. "I am not callous enough to cross them."

"You get awfully close."

"I do not cross them," she repeats. That is the important bit. Her approach of where he became uncomfortable was negligible because she was wise enough not to cross it.

He bends his neck to plop his head on her shoulder. "You are exhausting to deal with."

Unpleasant

"I like you," Styx decides.

"I heard you didn't like much of anyone."

"Then you're an exception."

Calypso considers that. "I like you well enough as well. Though I'm afraid it will not lead to much. As you said, you are bound to the Underworld and I am bound to the mortal's realm.

Styx rolls her eyes. "Why must my approval of you lead somewhere?" Because it would be a marvelous thing, the Goddess of the Dead River and Vows working alongside the Goddess of Sea and Ruin. The trouble they could make. "I am not looking for a bedfellow to keep my shore warm. I simply stated that you are not unpleasant."

"Ah," Calypso clicks her tongue. "That's where you are wrong. I am very unpleasant."

Asked

His look is, well, much the same. A sadness. A weight. "What does it matter to you the day I've had?"

"Nothing. But if you'd like, I've been told I've a knack for making them better."

The fact that the people's live she ends up bettering enough for them to admit to it, or Primordial above, thank her for it, were quite firmly in the realm of sadness before her arrival was just coincidence, surely. It's not like she had a heart (three, actually, when in Kraken skin, but whoever asked for unimportant details like that?) that cared to seek out the melancholy for her to attempt to brighten up.

No. Surely not.

Just a common-adjacent coincidence.

She was Calypso and Kraken, after all, and her people and others unrelated alike know that she does not possess the capability to care about trivial things like emotional states of mortals who are just going to end up dead one day, perhaps by her own hand.

Opened

She was made from no mother, had no being to coddle or teach her when she opened her eyes to all things she did not know and the one she did and all of herself comes from no other.

Seen

“I should be going,” she says, though her plan isn’t really to go anywhere at all. If Amphitrite had dropped the matter after the first reply, perhaps she’d make her way there to see what the fuss was. But now? She was demanding and Calypso wasn’t in the mood.

She could wait.

“Oh?” Leucothea seems taken aback by the declaration, surprised.

It is kindness Thanatos has fostered in her that bids her smooth over the other goddess. “Not of any reproach. Simply we are two busy goddesses and we’ve seen most of Apollo’s travel away.”

“Oh.” Softer, understanding. A glance at the sun Apollo is charioting across the sky, quickly-slowly approaching horizon and Artemis’ rise. “You’re right.” Gentle exasperation, silent of course, you always notice everything that surrounds you. How is your attention so sharply wide?

“Don’t fret. I will see you soon and if you’ve something you must say, you can try your luck at calling me."

Tagging (with no pressure and anyone can hop in): @dragon-with-a-pen @toomanyassassins @meanderer125 and @moonyjulian to find the words demand, declaration, order, request and urge.

[flickeringart]

The Megxit Drama

A peek at Meghan Markle’s chart

The British Royal Family has certainly been the subject of dramatic events recently – Prince Harry and Meghan Markle doing an interview with Oprah in order to explain their break with “family”, royal duties and royal life – revealing quite unsavory things sufficient to depict the firm, staff and members of the family in a bad light. Essentially, Meghan was retelling her traumatic experiences of being treated unfairly, feeling trapped, being subjected to racism, getting no help in times of emotional crisis and robbed of freedom, while her husband Harry passively went along confirming all of it. Whatever the truth is, they certainly painted themselves as victims – compassionate and good-natured. They attempted to remain respectful to the people involved in the story, yet if actions speak louder than words, they certainly weren’t particularly “respectful” by throwing the Royal Family under the bus with this interview. The couple has gotten a lot of backlash as people are disinclined to buy their narrative, partly because both seem to be quite self-serving under the guise of selflessness. Meghan made it clear during the interview that she didn’t know much about life as royalty and went into it all surprisingly clueless, almost setting herself up for disappointment. One could assume that by committing to such a structured existence as becoming a royal, that one would do the homework and at the very least expect to give up the privilege of being “an ordinary person” in favor of being of service. The British Monarchy obviously has symbolic value more than anything else, which is not to say that it’s unimportant or trivial. Symbols carry meaning and the Royal Family upholds that meaning through attempting to embody it physically. The members are not supposed to be inflated and begin to believe that they in and of themselves are princes and princesses or whatever titles they are given. They are supposed to serve the titles rather than the titles serving them.  In becoming a part of this symbol of divine reign, one merges with something far greater than the limited self. One serves to uphold an image that is immortal, ancient and has a function in the psyche of the British people. I dare assume that Meghan didn’t fully grasp this concept and went into it all with far more attitude than people would like – perhaps understandably so considering her lack of experience of monarchy. Prince Harry seemingly got pulled along with it all, presumably wanting to rescue his wife from that which killed his mother while piggybacking on the momentum of the situation and metaphorically breaking free from the “limiting container” of the institution. Harry said in the interview that he felt sorry for his father and his brother being trapped by their roles, which seems like a desperate attempt to try to gain some significance, to end up in the role of the hero and avoid living in the “shadow” of more prominent members of the family. People generally seek significance in some way and will come up with the most creative attempts to cast themselves in the role of superiority, whether it’s through victimhood, humility, bravery, sacrifice or anything else that elevates the self in some way. Whether someone’s behavior stems from an attempt to make up for the lack within or not can be hard to spot, but considering the skepticism the interview has been met with – and the scrutiny (and ridicule) that it has been exposed to – it is safe to say that people’s gut feeling tells them that something is not quite right.

(The chart of Meghan Markle on astrotheme.com)

Meghan Markle has been accused of a lot of things, of twisting the truth, of exaggerating in order to further her own agenda, of being self-serving and manipulative. Some call her “narcissistic” – which is the “usual” label thrown at anyone who lacks genuine care for others, stirs up drama and drags other people through the mud in order to benefit themselves. However, her behavior might not be intentional, but compulsive. After all, no one is 100% sure of why they’re the way they are, whether it’s deemed good or bad by society at large. Where the line is drawn between intentional and unintentional is unclear, yet the odors of shady business and dishonorable motives can be sensed – and people don’t usually like being “sold” something that isn’t what it seems. Generally people don’t appreciate being deceived, which is obviously why the backlash has been so extreme.

She has quite a charming and radiating outer appearance, which is typical of someone with their Sun in the 1st, and in its domicile at that. She also has the sweet and innocent “puppy eyed” look of a Cancer Rising, which displays emotion and vulnerability. It’s not surprising that she pursued an acting career before meeting Harry. The spotlight-seeking Leo Sun in the 1st house of self, the Moon-Saturn-Jupiter stellium in the artistic sign of Libra in the 3rd house of communication and (inter)action, as well as the boundless imaginative Neptune in the 5th house of creativity all contribute to the personality of the actress. Considering that she has an emphasis on Leo and Libra, it’s safe to say that she was in it for the refinement, admiration and class that being an actress could provide. She thrives on positive attention, and is undoubtedly sensitive to discord. With a Cancer Rising and a Libra Moon, she craves gentility and fairness, for everything to be “ok” socially. Cancer is a cardinal sign, and although it’s quite emotional, it’s also very active and motivated to create safety for the self. It does this by avoiding direct confrontation, of appealing to people’s caring side. There’s nothing wrong with this, but people might feel as if the Cancer Rising person’s innocence is “put on”. In the interview, Meghan had no problem displaying her own weakness and emphasizing her own vulnerability. She used these attributes to gain esteem, whereas another person of a different nature, with different archetypes protruding, would’ve felt humiliated leading life with that energy. Her Moon is her chart ruler, which makes her emotions the primary focus – in other words her subjective experiences, mutual care, needs and requirements is particularly emphasized in her life. The Moon is in Libra, the cardinal air sign that strives for balance and justice and awareness - especially as it relates to interpersonal relationships. Libra is famous for wanting to keep everything “civilized” and “respectful”. The tight Moon-Saturn-Jupiter conjunction in this sign points to emotional exaggeration (Jupiter) and restriction (Saturn). By entering into a relationship/business deal (Libra) she experienced harshness around her emotions (Moon-Saturn) on a grand scale (Jupiter). On a side note, Capricorn rules the 7th house, indicating that she encounters discipline and structure through partnership. The institution and structure (Saturn) that she entered into through her marriage with Harry (Capricorn in the 7th) would challenge her emotions (Moon) and it put limits on her freedom (Jupiter-Saturn) and affected her overall health (Sagittarius in the 6th).

Meghan has an Aries Midheaven, indicating that her career involves breaking new territory, doing her own thing, leading her own way. This usually doesn’t go over very well when attempting to work for authority. The person usually becomes frustrated and eager to venture out on his or her own. This is exactly what has happened. Her Moon-Saturn-Jupiter conjunction in Libra opposes her MC in Aries, which perfectly points to her attempts to keep things civil and non-aggressive (Libra), while coming off as selfish and individualistic to the public (Aries). Aries as a sign is famous for not listening to anyone and moving into unpaved territory, which she certainly has accomplished. The public now sees her as someone who goes her own way – doing her own thing and standing up for herself, for better or for worse. Her Mars is in Cancer, which is why her aggression isn’t direct and rather passively expressed. She has the stereotypical female aggressiveness that implies playing on one’s weakness and hurt in order to wear down the target. It’s also in the 12th house, which hints to it being disowned by the conscious personality. Meghan might have a hard time conceptualizing of herself as a force of impact and might not see how her pent up frustration might become an enemy to herself. She has complained about feeling attacked by the media and this is classic of a 12th house Mars attributing aggressiveness to anything but the self. Attack and unpleasantness seem to flood the person from the unspecified sources, and it can arguable be a horrific experience. In the interview she mentioned feeling suicidal at one point and desperate to not be alone with the threat coming from the outside, her own mind, or both. It’s difficult to attribute the cause to any single factor with planets in the 12th. Mars squares her MC and her Moon-Saturn-Jupiter conjunction which indicates struggle in the psyche concerning her emotional involvement with structure and beliefs, vs. her public image vs. her own fighting spirit. She certainly has confronted and challenged established structure (Mars square Saturn), albeit with an attempt to be “respectful” resulting in a passive-aggressive understanding of everyone’s difficulties and struggles.

The thing that drew her to The Royal Family in the first place must’ve been her Libran urge for class, style, aestheticism and beauty. She undoubtedly found it glamorous and exciting to get to be in the spotlight, to be respected as part of something elevated and glamorous in nature. She probably has a need for spiritual meaning, indicated by her Moon-Jupiter contact – and to have her daily work based on sharing “truth” and “generous” disposal of knowledge gained through experience (Sagittarius in the 6th). She also craves structure and order indicated by her Moon-Saturn contact, which she pursued through partnership (Capricorn in the 7th) with a member of a family with unparalleled saturnian streaks of tradition, custom and regulations. To establish herself within the family would not have been such a terrible idea for her because it could’ve met all of her needs for purpose and order. However, her Mars in the 12th house didn’t allow for this plan to work. One could say that her own self-serving function rebelled after having yielded to outside influences for too long. Planets in the 12th house are usually “given up” to whatever circumstance one is in – which often results in the person acting through being “overcome” by something - pushed into a position of having to act. Meghan declared feeling imposed on by the outside, emotionally unsafe and unwell. The 12th house is the house of self-undoing after all, and her actions might’ve proven to be quite detrimental - perhaps continuing to be. Square aspects, as that between her Mars and Moon-Saturn-Jupiter conjunction stimulates action because it’s indicative of friction. She had to fight (Mars) for her needs (Moon), control and integrity (Saturn) and for her beliefs (Jupiter).

[chameleonwritess]

Never Been Kissed

Series: Sanders Sides

Pairing: Moceit (Janus/Patton) (minor Logince)

“I dare you to kiss Patton,” Roman grinned.

“Truth,” Janus changed his mind.

“Do you want to kiss Patton?”

“Pass,” Janus spluttered.

“The game doesn’t work like that,” Virgil pointed out, unhelpfully.

Words: 2923

Read on AO3

It had started with a stupid truth or dare game. Janus was having a legitimate breakdown over a game of truth or dare. Curse the fateful day that the other sides had begun to accept him.

If it weren’t for the fear of being stuck with the company of Remus and only Remus again for eternity, Janus would leave them.

Only, he wouldn’t really, because even despite being the cause of Janus’s current predicament (although it could also be blamed on Roman), he’d never leave Patton. Not now. Not ever, if he had anything to say about it.

Patton, who smiled as brightly as the sun when Janus walked into a room. Patton, who laughed softly when Janus messed up baking cookies and smeared cookie dough on the end of his nose. Patton, who understood what it was like to feel alone, helpless, unwanted and unimportant. Patton, who, despite Janus’s best efforts, had captured his heart.

And now Patton was not only going to figure out that Janus was completely smitten with the bespectacled side, but also realise how pathetically inexperienced at loving another person he was, removing any infinitesimal chance there even was of Patton liking him back. All thanks to a game of truth or dare.

Patton had invited him to join in the game. Janus knew the basics of how to play, thanks to Remus frequently insisting that Janus, Virgil and he play it once upon a time. Still, he was quite sure the version of the game the other sides played would include a lot less biting and a lot less blood than Remus’s version.

The game had started innocently enough. Roman had insisted that they spin a bottle to choose the next player, avoiding any biases in selecting a victim. Janus agreed that it did seem the most efficient solution. The game began with some silly confessions about embarrassing secrets, favourite songs and guilty pleasures.

Of course Roman would be the one to change it up. Logan’s dare for the creative side had resulted in him feeling particularly elated after managing to fit seventeen spoonfuls of Crofter’s in his mouth before he had to swallow and he spun the bottle with enthusiasm, practically causing it to fly directly into Janus’s lap. Roman laughed loudly.

“Looks like it’s chosen you, Janus! Truth or dare?” he asked. Janus had considered the options. Knowing Roman, his dares would likely have Janus doing something ridiculously embarrassing (Virgil was still sporting faint remnants of red lipstick, despite his vehement attempts to remove it, and Patton still looked as though he was feeling sick from the many marshmallows he’d had to shove in his mouth).

Deciding he’d take a gamble that Roman’s truths were slightly more pleasantly… creative… than his dares, Janus replied.

“Truth,” he decided. Regret immediately followed at the wicked smile that flashed across the Prince’s face.

“If you had to kiss one of the sides, who would it be and why?” he asked.

As the embodiment of Deceit, Janus should not have found himself as panicked at the prospect of having to lie his way out. After all, he could hardly open his mouth and declare,

‘Patton, because I’ve been hopelessly in love with him since the very first time he smiled at me.’

“Inventive,” Janus muttered sarcastically to Roman, stalling for time if anything.

“Oh, come on, surely you don’t have to think that hard about it,” Roman complained as the others looked intently at Janus for an answer. He deliberately avoided Patton’s gaze. There was only one way he could answer without admitting every feeling he had tried (and subsequently failed) so hard to suppress.

“There’s only one obvious answer,” Janus started, clearly piquing the others’ interest, “Virgil still has lipstick on his mouth so it’s an automatic no. Logan looks as though he wouldn’t know how to kiss if he read an in-depth instruction pamphlet. Roman, you probably use too much tongue and that’s definitely appealing and Remus would bite me. That only leaves one option.”

Janus paused to look at the others. Virgil looked indifferent, Logan was trying very hard not to seem offended, Roman was failing at not looking offended and Patton… Janus drew in a sharp breath. Patton’s eyes were practically sparkling as he looked at Janus.

“That was a biased answer,” Roman huffed, clearly still salty, but Janus was relieved for the distraction, “I don’t use too much tongue!”

“You do every time you open your mouth,” Virgil protested.

“Besides, Logan can ki- I- nevermind,” Roman cut himself off, flushing distinctly redder. Janus raised his eyebrows and looked between the logical and creative side. Logan’s cheeks were dusted a darker shade than normal, too. Of all the confessions Janus had anticipated coming from this game, that was certainly not one of them.

“What?” Virgil blinked.

“Janus,” Logan interrupted, slightly louder than necessary, “it’s your turn to spin the bottle.”

“Of course,” Janus said, flickering his gaze back across to Patton, who was still glancing at him with a small smile. Janus snapped his eyes away again, quickly, spinning the bottle, instead.

“Logan, truth or dare?” Janus asked when the bottle stopped.

“Dare,” Logan wisely insisted.

The game continued for a few more rounds and Janus had practically forgotten about his previous predicament. He suffered through a couple of dares and another truth until, fatefully, Roman’s spin landed on him once again.

“Truth or dare?” Roman asked, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. Janus had learnt his lesson, this time.

“Dare,” he decided.

“I dare you to kiss Patton,” Roman grinned.

“Truth,” Janus changed his mind.

“Do you want to kiss Patton?”

“Pass,” Janus spluttered.

“The game doesn’t work like that,” Virgil pointed out, unhelpfully.

“I- uh-“ Janus foraged for words he could usually weave together so effortlessly. What was he supposed to do? Kiss Patton and pretend it meant nothing to him? Not kiss Patton and have to explain that it meant too much to him? Explain that he’d never kissed anyone and he refused to let his first kiss be in a truth or dare game?

“You don’t have to, Janus,” Patton’s soft voice said from next to him and a hand landed on his leg. Janus jumped at the contact and Patton retracted his hand quickly. Janus wished he hadn’t- he’d just been surprised at the contact.

“I mean, it’s the rules, so he kind of does,” Roman pointed out, examining his nails for no particular reason.

Patton was looking at Janus with the same soft, understanding smile as always. Janus wanted so badly to lean forward and kiss him, but he couldn’t. Not in front of all the others. Not when he didn’t have a clue what he was doing.

“I- I can’t,” Janus finally spluttered out.

“That’s okay. It’s not a problem,” Patton insisted, but his smile wavered slightly. Janus panicked. Patton had thought Janus didn’t want to kiss him- that he couldn’t bring himself to do it, even for a dare.

“It’s not about you, Patton,” Janus insisted, quickly- quicker than he had meant to, “you’re wonderful, it’s just that I- I don’t- I-“ Janus’s breaths were getting faster as he looked around the room at all of the others. What had he just said in front of them all? What was he about to admit?

“I have to go,” Janus said abruptly and he immediately sunk out of the room.

And that’s how Janus found himself inside his room, his back pressed against the wall, breathing heavily and trying not to cry or have a panic attack.

How pathetic had he become? He couldn’t even complete a dare as trivial as giving someone a quick kiss. Admittedly, that ‘someone’ just happened to be the side he’d fallen in love with, but it didn’t require almost revealing his true feelings to all the others and having to physically leave the room for fear of breaking down.

Janus groaned in frustration and threw his hat across the room, more for dramatic effect than anything. Now Patton was going to think he was repulsed by him or something when it was the literal opposite, but if Janus revealed that, Patton would just be repulsed by him. There was seemingly no way out of the situation in which he didn’t lose Patton. Maybe he was destined for a lifetime of Remus, after all.

A knock at the door snapped Janus out of his self-pitying and caused him to wonder exactly how long he’d been dramatically sliding down the wall onto the floor for.

“Jan? Are you in there?” Patton’s gentle voice called out. Janus’s breath caught in his throat. He glanced in the mirror on his wall quickly, noting that his eyes were still red, the human half of his face was flushed and blotchy and his hair was sticking up slightly. He looked a mess but he couldn’t ignore Patton. Not if the other side wasn’t avoiding him as he’d feared only mere minutes ago.

Janus flattened his hair down, desperately and opened the door, trying to look as blasé as possible. Considering acting was one of his greatest skills, he was doing a notably abysmal job.

“Patton. Hello,” Janus said in an awkward, stilted way.

“Hi,” Patton said, breathlessly, “are you okay? I didn’t want to come straight away in case you needed some time but I didn’t want to leave you by yourself for too long if you weren’t alright. I hope that’s okay.”

Janus nodded.

“Yes, I’m great. Fantastic, even. Please don’t be worried about me,” he lied. Patton raised an eyebrow.

“You tell me off for repressing my negative emotions. I can tell you’ve been crying. And of course, I’m going to be worried about you, silly!” he insisted. Janus blushed a little. He was suddenly relieved that his face was already red.

“I really am okay,” Janus said more earnestly, “I’m sorry about what happened at the game. I just got… flustered.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Patton insisted, “Roman shouldn’t have pushed you to do something you didn’t want to do. He knows that, now, and no one else has a problem that you didn’t want to do a silly dare!”

“But that’s not true!” Janus blurted out before he could stop himself. Patton’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“How do you mean?” he asked.

“Never mind,” Janus shook his head, desperately wishing he hadn’t said anything. If he just ended the conversation now, maybe things could go back to normal between him and Patton. “It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.

“Hey, Janus,” Patton protested gently and as Janus tried to turn around to walk back into his room, a hand encircled his wrist, causing a shock of warmth to jolt through Janus’s body. He immediately froze at the touch. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Patton continued.

Janus closed his eyes and nodded, slowly turning around to face Patton again.

“Is this still about the game or is it something else?” Patton asked, taking both of Janus’s gloved hands in his own now that Janus was facing him again. His touch sent shots of electricity through Janus’s arms. Patton was so free with his touches. Janus wasn’t sure he’d ever be used to it, but he wasn’t complaining.

“It’s just the game,” Janus huffed, “how stupid is that?”

“It’s not stupid at all!” Patton insisted and he took a step closer to Janus, his hand reaching up to touch the scaled side of Janus’s face, “do you want to tell me what it was that was the problem. I can tell the others not to do it again and I promise I won’t be offended,” he added with a giggle.

Janus released a shaky breath, both from the effect Patton's closeness was having on his heart and from the nervousness of what he was about to admit.

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” Janus muttered, barely audible. Patton heard, though, if the soft gasp he gave was anything to go by.

“There’s nothing wrong with that! You don’t need to feel embarrassed about it. You know, I’ve never actually kissed anyone, either,” Patton admitted, “and I don’t think I’d want my first kiss to be because someone dared me to kiss a random guy in front of everyone else.”

“Oh,” Janus muttered. He hadn’t considered that Patton might never have kissed anyone. He was just so likeable that Janus had assumed one of the other sides must have wanted to kiss him at some point.

“I won’t tell the others if you don’t want, though,” Patton promised, “it can be our little secret.”

Janus nodded as Patton smiled at him. Why was he still feeling so agitated? Patton wasn’t mad at him, he’d explained why he hadn’t kissed Patton in the game and he hadn’t been forced to admit his true feelings for Patton. He should be feeling calm again.

Apparently, his discomfort was still visible, as Patton’s face contorted into a frown.

“Are you sure that’s it? You still look worried. You know I won’t leave until you’re smiling again,” Patton insisted. Janus cracked a small smile at his insistence, but it wasn’t the genuine smile Patton was referring to. Those smiles were only reserved for Patton, anyway.

“Really, everything is okay now. I’m sorry for freaking out and I’m sorry if Roman’s dare made you uncomfortable. It did include you, too, after all. And I’m sorry if the truth I answered earlier made you uncomfortable, too,” Janus began to say, wondering where all these apologies were suddenly streaming from. He suspected his and Patton’s still adjoined hands had something to do with it. “I’d never want to make you uncomfortable but I probably did. I should have lied instead of trying to be honest. I’m the literal embodiment of Denial.”

“Woah, Janus, slow down, you have no reason to be sorry! I wasn't uncomfortable at all- with anything!” Patton pleaded, his eyes wide. Janus looked at him anxiously. He had not meant to pour out quite that much of his heart. There was something about being with Patton that made him want to be more vulnerable.

“You weren’t?” Janus confirmed. Patton nodded and smiled brightly before a tinge of red crossed his cheeks and he broke eye contact.

“I, uh,” he began, “I really wouldn’t mind if you did want to kiss me.”

Janus’s eyes flew wide with shock. Was Patton implying that he’d be happy for Janus to kiss him?

“But I know you only chose me because you’re not as comfortable around the others! And you were forced to choose for the game, anyway, so I’m not saying you have to, but-“ Patton started to continue, his face growing gradually redder as he did. He looked positively adorable and Janus didn’t think he’d ever been more attracted to the moral side.

“I do want to kiss you,” Janus blurted out, his face darkening at his sudden confession. Patton looked up again, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ shape. “I have for quite a while, actually,” Janus continued because if he was going to confess, he might as well go all the way with his honesty, “ever since you accepted me into the group. You just smiled at me and it made my heart flip and I tried so hard not to fall for you, but my heart clearly had a different idea, because here I-“

Janus’s words were stopped when two hands planted themselves on either side of his face. Patton’s face was right in front of his and he was smiling, fondly, his eyes sparkling. Janus’s heart thumped loudly in his chest.

“Patton-“ Janus sighed and then he was kissing him.

Even the simplest press of lips was enough to set Janus’s body on fire and he immediately wanted more. He wrapped his arms around Patton’s torso, pulling the shorter side closer to him. Patton, despite his equal inexperience, certainly seemed to know what he was doing. His mouth was moving languidly against Janus’s and he’d snaked a hand into Janus’s hair.

The soft scrape of Patton’s fingernails against Janus’s hair caused a sort of mewl to escape Janus’s throat. Patton giggled softly against Janus’s lips, and the puffs of air that Janus felt against his mouth made him just want to kiss Patton even more insistently. So he did.

Janus wasn’t quite sure how long they ended up kissing for, but he did know that at the end of it, his hair was most definitely a dishevelled mess, Patton’s glasses were askew, his cardigan discarded from his shoulders, and both of them were grinning like idiots.

“Wow,” Janus mused, unable to form coherent thoughts, “that was-“

“Amazing,” Patton finished for him with a grin. Janus nodded in silent agreement.

“I should have just told you the whole truth before,” he mused. Patton wrapped his arms tightly around Janus’s shoulders, pulling his face close once again.

“You really should have. I can’t believe I’ve been missing out all this time,” Patton sighed against his mouth, leaning in and kissing Janus’ again, “and-“ he added, breaking away briefly, “in case it wasn’t clear, I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, too. I really like you, Janus.”

“Good,” Janus smiled, leaning down and pressing their lips together again. He would kiss Patton whenever and wherever he could just to chase the feeling of soft lips against his, gentle hands in his hair and a warm, comforting body right under his hands.

Maybe Janus should thank Roman, after all.

[themelodicenigma]

People will see a female character who is also a love interest, decide they don't like her, and then insist she isn't important and that being a love interest is a negative character trait. You don't see people doing this to male characters who are primarily the love interest of a protagonist, at least not as often. Like I don't see anti-fandoms for the older Disney Princes who were mostly there for the sake of the Princesses falling in love with them.

Good point!

For the later ones, there's definitely levels to them as well considering the variety of male roles, especially when they're more of the main character, like Aladdin, or where there's this equalization, which a lot of the 90's and so forth princess' movies can fit in. But, those princes, a lot are there for that romance plot. I mean, Ariel could've seen a number of attractive, charming males that could've made her more desperate to reach the surface, but at the end of the day, Eric HAS his role and expression in the story, and it's fine. This could extend even to like Frozen, which honestly, it's even more just about Elsa and Anna, ESPECIALLY the second one.

Just like Tifa, some of the Disney love interests are VERY involved in the story and plot, like Kristoff, and anyone who wanted to just be antagonistic could just makeup some hypothetical to justify their claim. I could say that since the main narrative in Frozen is mostly about Elsa and Anna and displaying that pure love that saves Anna, Kristoff and even Olaf (cause why not) could be written out of the story. Even if this is some fantastical fan fiction idea, this doesn't erase the existing role they still play within the series. Anything can just, be something it's not if people just rewrite a story. That hardly proves a point, especially when it's still about a character who is prominently featured throughout the story. Also, I'm pretty sure an angry mob will come out somewhere for dissing on Olaf. XD

Either way, they're in the story. They're important. I mean, that just happens when someone is a love interest in a story that emphasizes romance. And yeah, there are some stories where we don't get to see the love interests as characters, but some of the most beloved stories are where this doesn't happen. And there's a lot that are loved.

We can even have a similar conversation about Kairi despite Sora being the primary protagonist—I've seen plenty of people say she isn't important by the trivial data of "screen time". Considering the story beats she has been involved in, not to mention what she HAS as a character, this can just never be true, and she remains to be one of the main characters of the series, even if the expression of what she retains (like emphasizing her role as a Princess of Heart) is not as satisfying as some in the fanbase want (which is where I'm at, too, but I also don't believe it's as bad as people paint it).

But yes, even as @kifye and @skystarsflowers have pointed out before, the best bet honestly it to just stop using this as a reason to put down female characters in media. It just isn't a good look, even. It's perfectly fine to criticize a character's role with analysis, or a desire to want more (or less, in some cases I guess)—but we need to bear in mind the rationale and point this is really doing. Calling Tifa or Kairi unimportant, saying they should be written out of the story, or a "waste of space" isn't constructive, unless your goal isn't for the sake of understanding the characters.

[nevermore-ocs]

Azrael x Plus-Sized!Reader: A Real Alpha

Author’s note: IT IS FINALLY DONE 9.3K WORDS OF THE FIRST PART OF AN X READER WITH THE ONE AND ONLY HUNTER ALIEN BOI AZRAEL!! Summary: After a painful break-up in between you and your previous partner, Azrael sees to it that you’re comforted and happy again to the fullest extent. Warnings: NSFW closer to the end THAT’S ALL-

“You do not have to shed any more tears for that mudak (asshole), (Name).”

Your ears nearly blocked that out, the sniffles staggering out of you with your body twitching in time your hitching breaths, Azrael’s words were almost muffled to you. “I-I’m sorry, Azrael,” you whimpered out, for what felt like the 50th times and like the numerous utterances before, he shook his head to brush off the apology, and his large, strong arm tightened around your waist and with gentle pushes urging you to snuggle your head onto his shoulder, he quietly spoke up again. “You have nothing to apologize for, little one, this is that cruel dog’s fault, not yours.” His hand, taking up most of the free space on your side, stroked slowly up and down, his digits lingering on your waist in soothing pets, it drew a shaky sigh from the depths of your chest. You at least attempted to even your breathing, but every rampant thought that rushed through your head and dug its way into your brain like a deadly spike and imprinted itself there. Any progress that you made of controlling yourself went down the drain, you felt the sobs start to rip through your body once more and on impulse, your arms shot out to Azrael and you clung onto him tightly, with your face buried into his broad chest. It felt like you were crying your eyes out, that if you kept going, you weren’t totally sure if you’d even have anymore tears to shed.

Azrael, overcoming the surprise of the swift, tight hug you threw around him, his open arms carefully closed around your frame in a much softer but warm hug, like as if he hugged you as tight as you were, he’d break you like a wilting flower with the gentlest breeze of wind bristling crumbling the weak, dead petals, but, his hands still traveled up and down the small of your back in slow, tender strokes, his digits taking a few moments to massage a certain spot in the middle of your tense, locked shoulder blades, surprisingly, it did make your rigid shoulders gingerly relaxed from their raised position, even if it was a gradual, crawling pace from the desired, fully rested goal, it was improvement, and even the tiniest amount was enough to make a gentle smile paint itself onto the alien’s face. “There you go, little one, there you go, you are safe, I swear it…” his low, accented voice rumbled through his chest, you felt it, what with your head nestled so much against him, his voice, as if it were a warm, quilted blanket, surrounded you in a comforting aura, to think that someone so dangerous, so otherworldly, would take the time out of his day to make sure that you didn’t cry over someone who didn’t deserve it, it surprised you, sure, but it made you happy more than you realized. Daxton was a dangerous place, humans being a smaller percentage of what roamed in the city’s streets, the fact that not only were you somehow good friends with the worst of the worst in this place, but you were currently being cradled in one of their arms definitely made you take a moment to compose yourself. You sniffled and tried to force your tears to halt for now to finally take a slow glance up at Azrael, the hunter alien who was from a distance icy planet who knows how far away, the same man who’s killed creature after creature with the very same tools that were petting your back and threading their fingers through your (hair color) tresses and taking those few extra steps to pet at your scalp before brushing back any lingering strands away from your face, sometimes you questioned to yourself how an alien could be so much kinder and sweeter than the humans you’re used to but after what happened, it didn’t take too much convincing anymore. If anything, humans could take a few lessons from Azrael in that department. You, at first, were going to sit back in the dip of Azrael’s lap and just let yourself relax, perhaps even drift off to sleep  as crying took more energy out of you than you originally thought, but, that’s when your eyes really drifted over the alien’s features to take in even the smallest of details. He was the enticing combination of cute, almost boyishly so, and worn-out ruggedness with every hunt that he’s been through taking one toll after another on not only his body, but his mind too. You could only begin to imagine the story behind the three long scars that bore deep across the entire horizontal length of his face, across his sets of eyes, his nose, even his mouth. “Azrael?” You peeped up, your voice, sounding more level than it did, was quite gentle and quiet to the ear, but his talented, pointed ones instantly heeded and he turned his head to face you and his half-lidded, sweet gaze met yours again. “Yes, little one?” He responded with the same kind of light whisper as you. Your heart fluttered, his deep voice honey on your ears, you leaned further against him, your head tilting some to the side and it rested on one of his shoulders comfortably and you gazed up at him in a trance, you couldn’t describe it at first, your emotions left your mind a disoriented, fuzzy mess but this felt right, this warm closeness with him, how his large, strong arms fit around your full, curvaceous body with little effort, and just how he was taking so much time in the world to comfort you, to ensure that your tears would stop that you would rest well and content tonight. He didn’t have to do this for you, at all, it wasn’t his job to, but with how he carried himself right into your room and made himself at home to fully care for you and only you, it was almost as if he needed to or else it wouldn’t sit right with him in his head, in his heart. “You don’t think I’m too big, do you? I-I know this is kinda out of nowhere-well, n-not out of *nowhere* but s-still, I, heh, I know it’s not the most attractive thing in the world-” His hand lifted and he cupped his palm over your mouth to silence your words, and your surprised eyes flickered up to his face, and his taken aback expression read of quiet hurt, as if the question itself, when you uttered it, it insulted him. He, at first, silently shook his head and then he spoke up, “Not at all, little one! Why would I be bothered by it? Is beautiful, yes? Is more to love! A fool would be bothered by something as trivial as that, who would complain getting to hug every inch of you? If you were my woman, you would be getting your body worshipped by me every single day, whenever you asked for me to do so. The Gods graced this world, this universe, with the perfect form of you, there is nothing wrong with you,” you didn’t know what to say, your mouth was partially hung open, words hanging off of the cliff of your tongue but they didn’t take that plunge, so, they stayed stuck in your mouth and you couldn’t help but the stare that came from you, riddled with disbelief and it seemed to the resonate with him as he picked it up, and he continued. “If you really think there is something wrong with your body, (name), let me reassure you, from the bottom of my heart and spirit that there is not one problem, yes? You are not ‘too big’, is not possible! Personal preference, I would want a bigger woman, be too afraid to squeeze a smaller one; I would break her!” His words melted into laughter, hoping that his little joke would conjure up some kind of laugh from you too, and his internal wishes were granted as the quietest of giggles escaped from your lips and left a smile on your face in its wake. “A real alpha,” he started again whilst he stood up from the bed finally with you hoisted up in his arms so easily, he held you in a bridal style and instinctively, your arms shot up from their resting positions on your stomach, and they coiled around his strong neck. Turning to face the bed, he bent over to slowly lower you to the cradling embrace of your mattress, and he slipped your looped arms over his head and he gingerly laid them across your chest and stomach, giving one of your arms a slow, deliberate caress til he reached back with the same hand and he even fluffed up a couple, or a few, of pillows amongst the bevy of them splayed across the head of your bed. “Wouldn’t let something so unimportant get in the way of making the person of their dreams their mate. To us, to me, it does not matter what you look like, you are kind, you are sweet, you are smart, you are a light that can be seen from even the darkest of caves, never forget that. How your body is shaped, how much you fill out your clothes, a dress, a palm even, is bonus!” He quietly chimed with a light chuckle fluttering out of him. Again, you found yourself at a loss for words, not even knowing what to begin with other than just laying there in a stunned silence with your (eye color) orbs gawking at him with your mouth hung ajar. Sometimes you wondered how he even existed, only to be quickly reminded he was an alien for a myriad of reasons, tons of which you were thankful for since in the back of your gnawed at the back of your mind, a thought that a human who even attempted to mirror the same kind as uplifting qualities as him wouldn’t even exist. He thought of you in such high regards that didn’t even fathom with you at first, but it touched you to say the least. He grasped the edge of your blanket and pulled it up to the bottom of your chin and he straightened it out across your body, making sure that it laid comfortably flat against your body, his hand, placed on top of your hip, cascaded down in a slow, smooth motion, rubbing the warm fabric down against your body. “Azrael…” You breathed out, he was crouched down next to the side of your bed with his chin resting on his crossed arms laid on the edge of the mattress as all four of his eyes glanced at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue, if you could this time.

“Thank you.” It wasn’t much, but it was definitely the loudest phrase echoing throughout your mind at first, if anything was gonna come tumbling out of your mouth in shy, touched mumbles, it was those two words. His eyes softened and his smile spread wider, enough for the tips of his sharpened teeth to peek out from underneath his lips, and somehow, it made him even cuter in your eyes. “You are most welcome, little one, and if you ever, and I mean ever, need to be reminded that you are a gift from the Gods themselves, do not hesitate to come to me again, okay? To see your eyes light up with sincerity and feel proud of yourself once more, it is the greatest treasure in the universe, and nothing would make me happier than to indulge in it more.” His hand unraveled from his crossed arms and he moved it up to one of your hands holding the edge of your blanket and he wrapped his fingers around yours and gave you a gentle squeeze, his thumb grazing over your knuckles and where finger met palm, his trained eyes making sure to watch his claws and to pull them away when they even got a centimeter too close to your skin, and after giving your hand a few more squeezes, he, to you, regrettably, retracted his hand back to his side and stood back up to his towering 11’0” height. You had to catch yourself, but your hand had outstretched from underneath the blanket’s edge, reaching out to grasp and hold his all over again, however, somehow, he didn’t notice, thanks to his head turned away to take a quick glance around your room and when he did finally lock gazes with you again, you snatched your hand away in time and hid it back under the darkened cloth. “It is late, and I can imagine crying made you tired. You should get sleep, rest up and get your strength back, yes?” He gave you one more genuinely sweet smile with a quiet hum flowing from him, before turning around to face the door and he even started to step towards it.

And it was there, staring at his fleeting back that the rest of the world seemed to just fade away until it was just you, gazing at the man who single-handedly changed the entire night for you, who made your negative thoughts seem to melt away into nothingness, to be long gone and forgotten about and to never grace your mind again to cause you harm, to actually put your faith again into something, what started to feel frivolous and unimportant, like love. The words fled from your lips quicker than you could catch them. “Azrael, wait.” Your eyes widened when you heard yourself, and then you were sure that your eyes were going to pop out of their sockets when he turned around to you all over again.

“Yes, little one? Something wrong?” What did you wanna say? Your mind was cluttered, the remnants of what happened prior still littering around in your thoughts in hurtful piles but then also growing overwhelmed with the comforting, blinding feelings towards Azrael’s overshadowing the damage that was done, it was confusing, you couldn’t explain it, but, you knew you didn’t want him to leave so soon already, did you?

“Stay with me.” 

Well, that certainly came out a lot stronger than you originally wanted or planned. Azrael’s eyes widened, and he jumped very slightly with the sheer shock running through his body, he almost did a double take by glancing at anything else in the room, away from you, only to find himself staring back at your own stunned face. You flickered your gaze around, your lips forming the possible fragments of words coming to your mind but nothing came out, it just looked like you were physically trying to search for the words in front of you instead of mulling them over in your cluttered mind. However, from staring over your form, the alien’s talented, analytical eyes studied you for only just a few moments, quietly deducing just what was bothering you all over again, and the cause of your outburst, both sets of his eyes softened whilst a low, quiet sigh escaped his nose, returning to your bedside, he reached up and placed one of his large, clawed hands onto your shoulder and he held it, squeezing in a soft, soothing way. “You are feeling обеспокоенный (troubled), conflicted yes? Trying to heal quicker from the pain done unto you, with me. Do not say things that you truly do not mean, you can feel better without me.” His tone had a gentle firmness to it, not coming off too strong that he was yelling at you or anything vile like that, but as if he was trying to teach a lesson to you, words of wisdom that hopefully would help brush away any of the confusions entangling your thought processes in its wicked web. You did listen, of course, even your eyes drifted downward to the top of the mattress. Maybe he was right. He certainly sounded sure of himself. Was this some kind of attempt to rush and hurry your soul through any pain? By getting over the awful excuse of an ex with someone who was most assuredly better than them in every single way, shape, and form? But, it wasn’t like you to do this with just anyone, I mean, you’ve known all of the villains for a couple of years now, and found yourself close to all of them and you considered Azrael one of the closest to you, and he you, but, did you *really* wanna take that dive? To do something more with him? It’s not like you haven’t thought about it before against your better judgement, it was confusing, and made you second-guess some other things in your head that once were set in stone, was now crumbling into unsure doubts. Then, there were those other feelings, like having him this close where his warm aura radiated from him and covered around you like a blanket, the black, deep-set, caring worriedness in his blacked out eyes and how they were focused on you and only you, Hell, even the very obvious size difference in between the two of you was heavily noted, not only by the fact that he easily towered over you when he stood up beforehand, but how when you reached your hand towards his, your palm and fingers managed to coil around, at most, two of his clawed digits and you held them tightly, almost emitting the fear that he would leave sooner than you wished. Dragging your eyes back up to his scarred face, your hand at your side traveled up and you cupped his cheek to the best of your abilities, being so much smaller compared to him. You thumb, in a gentle, ghost of a tender caress, rubbed over the risen skin from the part of the scar situated right underneath his upper right eye, and with you two locked in such an intense gaze, now it was his turn to slowly don a light blue blush that spread across his face in a gradual glow, even the tips of his pointed ears started to brandish the same kind of bluish hue. You gave him a defiant shake of your head, “I want this, I-I want to do this with you, I do, I know I do, t-this isn’t some kind of…” you rolled your wrist, searching for the word, “Coping thing or anything, I swear…! You mean a lot to me, Azrael, and I wanna do...something, anything with you, only you, please…” Getting all of this off of your chest, both of your hands shot up to his cheeks and you cupped them, corralling all of his wandering, nervous eyes from going all over the place to focus solely on you and as if mirroring you, he opened his mouth and his lips attempted to form the words coming at his mind all at once to the point where no words found their way out and instead was replaced with a quiet squeak similar to that of a puma’s, it was too cute for you not to let out quiet giggle while a smile snuck its way onto your lips. Craning your head forward, you pressed your forehead against his in a nudge, something small and sweet that he’s done with you before as an affectionate gesture and almost instantly, his head leaned forward into yours and he returned it, nuzzling the side of his head against yours as a low, rumbling chuff-like noise emitted from the depths of his chest, again, seemingly identical to the chuff noises that a tiger can make. “Is it okay?” You questioned again, one of your hands glided down the side of his face and rested on the nape of his strong neck, letting your fingers trace over the start of a scar underneath the skin-tight under-armor he leisurely wore, “If you don’t want it too, you know you can tell me that right? I-If this is like, I-I’m pressuring you or anything, tell me to stop, and I’ll stop, and I’ll go to bed like you told me to,” you hurriedly reminded him, honestly, how he was feeling about this whole situation burned at your thoughts on top of your own, Azrael wasn’t human in the slightest, if that wasn’t obvious enough, and with how he had no partner with him when he came here in the first place, the thought of him having never done anything sexual before flashed through your head for a moment or two. “N-No, no! I...my apologies, (name), you, grace me with your kindness, being so patient with me.” He was always so sweet, it made your pounding heart flutter and you smiled wider at him as you reached up and threaded your fingers through his ridiculously soft strands of pastel blue hair, petting through the light tresses. “I am...more concerned with how you feel. Being in a hurt state can make you want things to stop the pain and I am more than happy to lay here with you until you do rest, but, something like this...it cannot be big, if there is something smaller that you humans indulge into with your own mating rituals, I can be open to that, but it cannot be anything else.” You blinked, “Why not-” suddenly, you remembered, and you swallowed up the question just before it left you too soon. “That’s right, your kind, you...mate for life.” You dragged out a long groan, your hand shooting up to your face to clap your palm over your forehead, almost as an attack onto yourself for forgetting something so crucial like that but him being much more nervous than you now started to make a lot more sense. “I am *so* sorry I forgot about that part of your culture, Azrael, I-I, ugh god I wasn’t thinking at all.” Rubbing down, you squeezed the bridge of your nose with a hint of annoyance towards yourself before dropping both of your arms onto your lap in defeat with your head turned away and your eyes narrowed along with your brow furrowed, you quietly scolded at yourself under your breath. “I do not want to take advantage of you.” The words surprised you. Lifting your head back up and facing him all over again, your wide eyes gawked at him, worried and curious, especially the first since you had no idea that he was thinking that if you two really did something like this, that he was taking advantage of you. “Azzy, what? Why would you think that?” You questioned, his eyes glancing away momentarily before he started to explain in a low tone. “On my home planet, it is not rare for Alphas, most certainly male, to take advantage of betas and omegas, fearful of them, if they have to give up their bodies to keep them alive, a lot of them fell obedient to others.” His eyes finally locked back onto your face, “And with your heart being hurt, feeling inadequate when you shouldn’t at all…” his hand crept up, cupping your cheek this time and his hand easily covered up almost the entire side of your head and face, his thumb grazing over the skin right underneath your eye. “I did not want it to seem the same. Это ужасная вещь, которую делают жестокие собаки (it is an awful thing done by cruel dogs), may the Gods forever damn the ones who do it, is just one reason why.” You leaned forward quickly and slung your arms around the alien’s large, broad frame, barely making it around the middle of his chest, letting your head burrow into his front as if you were a tick, “Well you,” you started, lifting your head enough to let your chin rest on the top of his chest to gaze upward at his curious expression, teetering on hurt thanks to the not-so-fun fact that he told you about his people, it was almost positive he was worried it would alter your opinion about him at all since he always referred to himself as a true, real Alpha. “Are nothing like those assholes, you know that? I mean you really pride yourself in that-” You gently teased in hopes to get him smiling again and it worked, a little, when the crack of a smile started to break out across his face, “You’re so much more sweeter, nicer, kinder, sometimes, honestly, it surprises me how you’re even called a villain here! I-I mean other than the whole, ‘taking skulls thing’ but still-!” The minimal distraught that had casted over him prior faded away at your emphasis and he couldn’t help but let out rather hearty laugh, one of his strong, large arms hooking around your waist to finally return your tight hug with his head craning down, he nestled his face into your (hair color) hair and you felt the soft rumble of low chuffs blowing through the soft tresses against your scalp. “You like the skull I gave you, yes? That was not too evil!” He joked in return, and it pulled more shared laughter out of the both of you since you bubbling up into a fit of a giggles caused his own laugh to come from him too and, thanks to the happiness sweeping you up, and momentarily brushing away any crumbs of darkness shadowing your mind, you leaned up and pressed a kiss again his nose. The alien squeaked out one of those puma-sounding noises at the small sign of affection, and after drifting his gaze back down at your expression to study your features, he leaned in and returned it by brushing his lips against your forehead so lightly and gently in a chaste kiss, he was always so careful with you, and you had no problem returning it. “Something small, is okay, right?” He questioned, a lilt of shyness threading through his voice as he brought up the prior topic and with a nod of your head, and a gentle smile walking onto your face, “Something small.” You reassured him. However, naturally, Azrael assumed it would be focused on you over himself, since he started to gently stand back up and start to peel the blanket off of you again and it seemed as though when he saw more and more of your body became exposed in a slow, gradual show for him, his sets of eyes traversed the pleasantly long journey of your plush-soft, curvy sides and wide hips, how the belly you had dipped down and, beforehand, you would find yourself being shrouded in the crippling shadow of your own self-doubt and self-conscious but there was something different now, it wasn’t there. It didn’t even begin to manifest itself over you when he was peeking further and further. Maybe it had to do with just how comforting Azrael’s gaze was, riddled with understanding and not a speck of judgement anywhere within the darkness of his four eyes. When he looked at you, it sent a static through you, a spark that was more than determined to reignite the flame inside of your body, and its attempts were more than capable in doing just that. His four orbs alone were enough to make your heartbeat throb harder in your chest and make your breath hitch in your lungs, as if it were glued to the very edges themselves. Although, something stirred within you, sure, the thought of Azrael taking the reins to whatever you two were planning gnawed at your mind in pleasant chews, there was another idea that started to swirl around in your mind, not one of negativity, nothing like that, but something more on the giving side. He did so much for you tonight, striving to do what he always did so masterfully, maybe it was time to do something back for him. Just before the grand reveal of your lower half, his free hand inched over towards your hip and laid it palm down against your skin, pulling a quiet gasp from the back of your throat. His hand, effortlessly taking over almost all of the space on the top of your thigh, was the combination of both soft from the extra padding on his digits and palm, with the scattering of calluses splayed on the edges of his hands and in the bends of his fingers, manifesting a silent story of just how much he pushed himself into his hunting. Your heart pounded, the thudding of it slamming against your chest rattled through your skull and pierced through your eardrums, practically silencing everything else whilst you stared at him, the softened expression that stayed true to his face, decorated with relaxed, half-lidded eyes and a warm smile spread across his lips, his four orbs flicked up at you, you assumed at first, but it took only the feel of his sharpened claws gently pricking and prodding at the thin material of your panties as a little warning to you that he was about to tug them down and off of you, and it was a gentle, silent reminder of what you had planned and on the fact that he even took the time to ready you, to ask wordlessly if it was okay for him to do so, the motions of your plan sparked to life as if they had a mind of their own. “Azzy wait-” your hand crept up, and you grasped his wrist, to the best extent that you could, actually holding a part of him really put into perspective just how much larger he was compared to you as your digits barely even wrapped around one of the sides. He screeched to a halt in record time, both his palm and fingers left your side much to your chagrin, nearly snatching his hand out of your light grip, “Have you changed your mind?” He questioned softly with an understanding lilt flowing through his tone, however, you shook your head, and you sat up more properly on the mattress so that you could turn and swing your legs over to the edge of the bed like how you were prior, and your softened eyes flickered up to his adorably confused and concerned face, he even gave his head a slow tilt to one side as if he were a large puppy. “No, no not at all, but…” you soothingly cooed whilst you leaned forward and in time, the alien moved back just a step or two, to make sure he wasn’t crowding you. You released your grip on his wrist and now, it was your turn for your own private little show when your eyes started at the top of his broad chest and in a deliberate crawl down the contours of his sculpted body and internally, you were thanking your lucky stars for the thin piece of under armor that Azrael worse ever so casually, its fabric hugged around his defined torso, outlining every little ridge of his trained, bulging muscles, it left little to the imagination. “You did so much for me tonight, and, I know you’re gonna like, disagree, but you didn’t have to,” and just as you predicted, his lips parted to start the said disagreement, until, it was replaced with a quiet, husk of a gasp tip-toed out instead, thanks to your hand laying palm down onto his chest, and in a slow-moving, downward stroke, you dragged your palm lower and lower across the length of his torso, the tips of your digits rising when they crossed over the ridges of his defined body and the risen skin of a scattering of deep-set scars, shielded away from your gaze. Then you felt it, where his top met his bottom armor, seemingly blended in together to seem conjoined as one full piece only to be disproven when your fingers curled over the edge of his pants and nudged rim down ever so slightly, enough for your intruding eyes to sinfully sneak a peek at the thick-haired base of whatever he had down there. That was the thing about Azrael, with him being an alien, your imaginations were the limits of picturing just exactly what he had hidden down there, and you had your excitement of finally seeing the grand reveal to blame for when your thighs lightly pressed against one another. “(Name)...” Azrael mumbled out, his accented voice dangerously low, a dusting of a blue blush sprinkled across his cheeks, the temptation to move his hand to yours to lead it off of him so that he can fully take care of you over the other echoed throughout his mind, and at first, his hand almost carried it out, the tips of his sharpened claws drew close enough to lightly prick and scrape against the skin of your wrist, but for once, you were faster than him. Craning your head forward, your lips brushed against his abdomen in a chaste peck, and the tiny gesture it was, was enough to send his hand into a skidding stop, his eyes went wide, almost as if all four were threatening to pop out of his skull, “So now,” you started again, whispering against blue skin, your lips sensually walked down his abdomen, leaving a trail of kisses in your wake, some of them were quick that emitted a sense of urgency to move onto the next while some of the others you held down for a few extra moments or so, so when your lips broke the lip-lock, the shiver that rushed through his body was more pleasurably intense than the last jolt ending it’s electrifying current through his senses. “I wanna do something for you. You’re such a sweetheart, Azzy, it’s only fair that I return the favor and take care of you this time,” The feeling of thick strands of snowy blue tresses brushing up against your jawline in light tickles, your eyes flickered down, studying the thickly haired base of his privates before continuing, this time, your unused hand that resided on one of his inner thighs climbed up further and further in between his legs, “You, mmhf, you do not have to do that f-for me, little one, it is the Alpha’s job after all to-hnh!~” His words were suddenly cut off with a shuddering groan when your hand moved up and placed itself onto his sack, and with slow, groping squeezes with your fingers rubbing over him, your lips attacked the base of his privates with a numerous amount of kisses through the thick fur like hair, your eyes pried open and they flicked up towards his face, doused in a deep shade of blue that spread so far across his face, it reached the tips of his pointed ears that even twitched a few times with growing excitement. All four of his eyes were screwed tight, and his hand that hung at his side had shot up and clasped over his mouth as if to silence any fleeting moans that dared to escape his lips, however, that tactic wasn’t too successful in stopping every noise that emitted from him since in the deep pit of his chest, chuffing noises rumbled throughout his body and vibrated against his padded palm, and it appeared as though he was silently cursing those purring noises since every time one crept out from in between his lips, his already closed eyes would tighten more and even his fingers gripped at his mouth and jaw harder too. With your head lowered so far your lips tantalizingly close to where you were so determined to cover in kisses and licks and suck, you certainly weren’t prepared for what you witnessed. In the corner of your eye, your head leaned back enough to drink up the sight of the tent in his pants growing right in front of you, it was to be expected, and hoped for, that he was truly enjoying what you were giving him and if it wasn’t, you were damned sure to find something that he’d love more than anything while you two were like this while you had him. You just had to. Your hand clenched the front of his pants again, preparing to tug the rest of the fabric again, however, the tent grew more, and more, and more, until the tightening thin armor expanded to such a tight bulge, the fabric snapped, and his length sprung out from its suffocating cloth imprisonment and you didn’t know really what to say at first as you sat there, gawking at the unusual sight with a dropped jaw and wide eyes and, as if history repeated itself, you found yourself at a lost for words until your stuttering lips managed to conjure something up. “...holy shit.”  You marveled. His length was anything but the norm that you’ve seen or have been used to. The shape of it alone was the biggest difference, it wasn't human, at all, it was a long, thick, tentacle-like shape that had a thick base and as your eyes traveled further up to the tip, you noted how it started wide and thick but slimmed down until the head was a point, and along the length and around the girth of it all, it was covered with small spines, no bigger than a thumbnail but still, their quantity overruled the size easily, they were everywhere except the tip since there wasn’t that much space at the thin head, but, they were heavily condensed around the the third and final part, a swollen knot that throbbed a few times now that he was fully erect and excited and in tune with each throb of his knot, the tentacle part wriggled deliberately, almost as if it were hypnotizing you to lean forward with your mouth as agape as it is now and swallow around the shaft. “Is, is problem?” Azrael’s trembling voice was like a hook, line, and sinker since it pulled you out of your stunned bewilderment. Blinking profusely with a shake of your head to top it off, your eyes snapped up onto his panting, flushed face and just before any worry attempted to leak through the lusty haze that was spreading heavily through him, you shook your head. “N-No! I’m just, s-surprised! I, Azzy you have, A LOT, down here-” “...is too big?” “It’s fucking HUGE, but that’s not what I meant-” Your still hand rested on your thigh and your fingers clenched tighter into its fist as you stared, you really didn’t have any idea on how to start with something like this, sure, you’ve given oral to past partners, even the most recent one, but Azrael was different. Not only has he never, ever, experienced something like this, but because this was Azrael, the place in your heart that he happily took over was major, he mattered more to you than you probably both ever realized, so you wanted to make this perfect, better than just enjoyable, you wanted this big alien man to get weak in the knees and need to sit down next to you after he was done or, if you really knew what you were doing with just the type of equipment he had, maybe even in the middle of it, so, with a deep breath through your mouth and out through your nostrils, your hand shot up to his length and your hand coiled around the base of it, right above the knot and you gasped lightly to yourself while a quiet snarling groan rumbled through his chest. Just barely, did the tips of your finger graze the edge of your palm, at least your hand actually managed to wrap around something of his, even if it wasn’t enough. Your hand inched up, the spines underneath your hand brushed up against your palm, they flared up and down ever so lightly in time with the twitches and throbs of his shaft, the sensation was odd, yes, but definitely not tempting. Your hand continued, squeezing around his shaft, you stroked all the way up to his tip in a slow, smooth, glide, the spines flexing out only to relax again and when your hand ended it’s test run at his tip, your thumb pressed down onto the leaking slit to tease the opening in small circles, and with each rotation, thick, warm, and surprisingly sweet-smelling precum began to impatiently seep out of his tip, coating your digit steadily and you were only more surprised when you pushed your hand back down in another pump and it milked more of his pre to steadily drip out of his tip and leak out onto his shaft and even have droplets push out over the edge of the slit and drip down onto the floor beneath the both of you. “L-Little one your, your hand is already plenty, rest, mmhmf, rest your body, you do not have to do more~” Azrael husked out, his eyes fought to stay open, and through blurry lenses, he gazed down at you. His hands resided at his sides, and only momentarily did one of them inch up and forward towards you and at first, glancing at it in the corner of your eye, you naturally assumed that it was him possibly attempting to thwart your actions again, but with how his held out hand twitched and his digits trembled halfway there, it wasn’t like he was trying to stop you, it was almost as if he weren’t sure if he should put a hand on you again, like he was worried if he grabbed you too hard or placed it in the wrong spot while you were like this, it’d hurt you, so, with another breath, his hand retracted and fell back to his side again. Witnessing this, your eyes traveled back up to his flushed face and you let a smile dance onto your lips, “Do you trust me, Azrael?” You questioned and, yes, at first, you attempted to let a flirtatious lilt coat those words to make it sound more enticing, but, you truly wanted to know, even if him letting you do this was evidence enough that he did since he could very easily stop you in a number of ways, ones more violent than the last, still, it probably eased both of your racing minds and thoughts to have consent audibly said instead of just out in the open like this. After a few moments of catching his panting breath, a thin grin pulled onto his lips and he nodded gently down at you, his multiple eyes tender and true, “I trust you, little one, I-I know you would never do me wrong in something as passionate as this, and you, mhmf, you have my word with the Gods as my witnesses, you may trust me too.”

“...god how do you exist, you’re, such a sweetheart, Azzy, I swear…~” You giggled quietly, and continued when he shrugged as a little joke, as if he didn’t know, but after glancing back up at his face, and how he stared down at you with such a loving sensation pouring from all four of his darkened orbs, you have no idea how you manage to wrangle your internal thoughts of leaning up or pulling him down to your level to kiss him where you should have willed yourself to do beforehand when you were up there, every ounce of your body wanted to just slam your lips against his in a deep kiss, to feel him kissing back with all of the experience and courage that he could offer, and have his large hands grasp at your hips and rear to keep you pinned against his broad, strong chest so the kiss wouldn’t be broken too soon, but, that would have to be saved for another time. You were already down here like this, right where your desire for him burned so brightly, if you were going to do this, it was now or you’d never be standing on this precipice of courage ever again. Your (eye color) orbs drifted back down to his twitching, awaiting length, the bizarre sight of his cock wriggling up and down or side to side with the smallest of moments intrigued you, you had your hand to planted firmly around his base as much as you could hold while your free hand propped up against the upper part of his thigh, close to his hip, to give yourself a steady form of balance in case you found yourself getting lost in this since his sweet-smelling aroma was invading your nostrils relentlessly, and the delicious scents imprinted themselves onto your mind with little effort and it triggered your mouth to even salivate more and it seemed to act as a good sign for what you just had planned since your tongue hung out of your mouth to swipe over your lips in a slow-moving lick. You craned your head forward, the pointed tip of his cock rested against your plump bottom lip and in between the both of them, the tip of your tongue peeked through and it swiped against the dripping head in a testing lick, as if you were either showing Azrael how this would work or if you were giving yourself just a taste of his seed and seeing if your nose was deceiving your tongue. Azrael’s sharp teeth gritted, you could hear the sharpened bones clicking lightly against each other, and he sucked in a sharp breath through the small gaps, the hand that masked over his mouth and nose released him and started to rub down from the side of his neck, to his chest, and finally it dropped down to his side again, he grasped the hem of his shirt and his claws nearly tore into the thin, ocean-blue fabric. If he was like this after just one tiny lick, now, you found more of that confidence peering through your worry and doubt.

“Lemme take care of you, Azzy…~” You breathed out intentionally against the sensitive flesh of his cock, the tentacle-like appendage twitched in a wriggling jump while Azrael husked out a quiet groan to himself. Your mouth cracked open, the tip of his length snaked its way into your mouth, and as you pushed your head further and further down the inches, the exotic feelings and tastes overwhelmed you. The copious amount of pre spilling out of his tip and staining the back of your throat and tongue with the spines surrounding his shaft flared out and brushed against the roof of your mouth and the top of your flattened tongue, however, this time, they didn’t relax and go back down, it was like the spines were doing their unwritten and unspoken duty in keeping his cock sheathed far down your throat and mouth, and it was at that epiphany that you were thanking your shit ex for helping you out with something like this now. You pushed yourself more, and more, until, your lips halted at the top of his swollen knot, you peered at it, and as much as you would try maybe another time, today was not the day to risk a broken jaw trying to unhinge it to try and swallow his whole length, if anything, you were more impressed with how far you got on your first attempt. Azrael though, he was another story, he had the worry of being too big in more than one ways pierce at his psyche, he had question after question after question nervously wracking through his brain to the point where he didn’t know which one to ask first, if he had to do something, if you could take him, were you changing your mind at all, just to name a few and while, he was enjoying himself, more than he thought or imagined, your sound well-being came first overall. His hand fumbled with the crinkled hem of his shirt, if he was going to place it on you, now would be the most obvious time. So, with a light huff through his nose, his hand raised and much to your surprise, he planted it on the top of your head where his claws brushed through (hair color) tresses, petting the top of your head and your scalp gingerly, “Are you, mmhmf, doing...whatever it is you’re doing good, still, (name?) Don’t you, need to breathe, should I, mmf, sit down, pull back, I-” With a lift of your hand, you planted it onto his hip and it silenced his words, four blackened eyes met yours and with a watery wink and a muffled smile, you pulled your head back, smoothly, your tongue threading through the gaps in between his spines and it dragged across the bottom of his shaft, and just before his entire length left your mouth, you hurriedly slammed your head back down to his knot. Azrael’s head shot back, pulling a long, deep groan, deep from within the alien’s chest. You repeated this process a few times, sliding his cock almost all of the way out of your throat only to quickly swallow it down again until you found a steady, rhythmic pace to set for yourself, even your hand that was clamped around his base to hold his twitching length at the ready had replaced itself onto his other hip, and you gripped at him, fingers digging into blue skin, not enough to break the surface of it, not even in the silence, but mayhaps enough to cause a speckling of bruises to pop up later for him to be reminded of just what happened tonight. Your head bobbed up and down, your tongue danced around his shaft, grinding up against the sides of it and you did attempt a few times to swirl it completely around his thick shaft to no avail, at certain parts, so you made sure to give the poised spines extra attention by letting the tip of the muscle flick across a couple of specific ones. You swallowed around him, the constricting walls of your throat enveloped around his cock, massaging the tip and shaft. “Mmmhff~ Nnnhhff~ L-Little one, by the Gods themselves, your mouth, your throat~ So warm, so w-wet~ Tight~ It’s, is too much~ T-The fact that you, you humans do this, I-hnh-I won’t last long with, hhnff, with your skills~” The rest of Azrael’s words melted into his native tongue and while you could make out some words here and there, the rest almost sounded like complete lust-driven gibberish. He had leaned over you, his knees buckled like you had hoped, not enough to make him fall, but enough to make him not stand up straight anymore, and he had the edge of the bed to act as his savior to catch him if he did, and his hand that rested on the top of you head had inched to the back of it, and you could have sworn that you felt the faintest urging push of your head to swallow him down again. One of your hands had inched down from his side, it slid down the dip in between his crotch and thigh, and you cupped his sack again, your palm groping and rubbing against him, and you felt it, that tension inside of him starting to tighten further inside of him, he was getting close, it was sooner than you thought but again, this was all new territory for someone as battle-ridden as him, and you felt a sense of pride shimmer inside of you that you were the first person ever to do this to him, and with how he was, probably the only one too. You hollowed out your cheeks by sucking harder around him, and your head bobbed up and down his length faster than before, the quiet slurping that ghosted out from your lips was much more audible now, and the tip of his cock slammed against the back of your throat, muffled whines rattled through your body and shot through his length with gags and whimpers fluttering in between the latter and it didn’t take too much, maybe 2 or 3 more fast pumps of your head when a loud, ear-piercing, animalistic roar of pleasure ripped through Azrael’s body and shot out of his mouth. Wave after wave after wave of white hot pleasure crashed over his body when his orgasm rushed over him. His seed spurted out of his tip in thick, warm ropes, and with each pump, his hips trembled and bucked into your awaiting mouth and throat, his hot cum cascading down your throat in a sweet-tasting waterfall. His eyes were glued tight, staggering, trembling groans with the hint of growls rumbling through his body, his hand forced itself to release your strands and almost instantly, he forced his eyes to pry open to stare at his open palm and claws, checking to see if he tore anything out and with relief, even more so when he lazily inspected the back of your head and saw no imperfections, he stepped back gently, his hips relaxing and pulling back, his softened cock fled from your mouth and throat, strands of your saliva stretched out and connected your lips and his length together until you broke by licking your lips, and without it being buried so far down your throat, the air flew down into your lungs in a welcomed, deep gasp before you panted out heavily. “How…” your voice was hoarse, with a lick of your lips and a clearing of your throat in the form of a soft cough, you started again. “How was that?” You panted.

The alien stood back up straight, his pants were hiked back up and adjusted the way they were set before all the while panting breaths wracked through his body, making his chest heave. Strands of his pastel blue hair stuck to his forehead with the help of the sheen of sweat that coated his skin up there, “That was...if that was your throat alone, then the Gods have certainly blessed whoever will, hnn, be your mate, yes?” He rasped, “You don’t think it’ll be you?” You questioned back, and surprisingly, he chuckled tiredly through the catching of his breath. “A Goddess such as yourself should not have to settle on the first man who treats her with kindness, I am simply doing what should be done by the one you use to spend the rest of their life with you, what that excuse of a man should have done,” man, his culture was something else. It really did take you a moment or so that process really what he just pointed out, that the two of you doing this tonight, to him, because of what he’s been taught and brought up to, this could all mean nothing if you met something literally tomorrow and decided to stay with them for, forever, instead of him.

And he’d be okay with it. Your eyes softened, “Azzy-” His hands reached down and much like before, he hoisted your legs up and back over onto the mattress and adjusted you so that you laid comfortably against the slab before grabbing the edge of your blanket and pulling it up and over you to drape it across your still warm and humming body, “Now, you should be more than tired, yes? Talk to me later today if you wish, but for now, little one, I must see you in your dreams, hm? Greet me there with kindness, (name), pleasant night.” With one more kiss to the middle of your forehead, he leaned back up to his towering height, his eyes half-lidded and fixated on your face, a warm smile played at his lips before giving you one more final nod, and he turned around, you stared at his sculpted back, the words were at your lips again, but this time, it was too late, the door opened and Azrael stepped out, but, not before giving you one more tender, true smile and even a little wave with his fingers, and the door closed.

“...I love you, Azzy.” The words found their way on the path out of your mouth after all.

[notchesandbullets]

Ryokuryuu’s Lifeline

Part 4: Midnight Battle Plans

Smoke billowed from Captain Gi-gan's pipe as she stared off into the distance. The lively chatter of her crew faded into the background as her brow furrowed.

This battle was necessary.

But it wouldn't be easy to win, even with the recent additions.

She glanced over to her crew, smiles stretching wide across their faces as they taunted each other about who was going to end up with Yoon as their wife; the said pretty boy whacking them in the back of their heads with a wooden spoon.

"Captain Gi-gan," A delicate voice called, jostling her out of her thoughts. "Here's some food."

The captain turned out and was met with the sight of a certain red-haired princess extending a bowl of the stew Yoon made for her. The captain accepted it with sincere thanks and began to eat. Yona lit up at the sight of Captain Gi-gan enjoying the food, and the sentimental praise Yona expressed for her comrade wasn't lost on the captain.

The older woman conveyed her gratitude to Yona for retrieving the senjusou and the princess beamed at her words.

Captain Gi-gan sighed. "When this fight ends, I'll break up the pirate crew. I want them to return to their normal lives."

The princess stared at the captain in surprise, but her gaze was trained on you and Jae-ha as you both disappeared below deck.

"There's just one," The captain murmured, turned her attention back to Yona, "Who will be a challenge."

Red hair swayed as the princess tilted her head. "A challenge?"

Captain Gi-gan rested her arms against the rail, pipe held loosely in her hand, nodding. "It's Jae-ha. This boat is his home."

"So then when the pirates disband, he's got nowhere to go?" Yona guessed.

The captain chuckled, "You've come to take him, haven't you?" A knowing gleam in her eye.

"...I want to, but he said he didn't want to leave with me." Yona explained after a pause.

"That might have something to do with Y/N," Captain Gi-gan gave her a side glance. "If you convince her to come with you, then Jae-ha would follow."

The princess immediately shook her head. "I don't want to coerce them. If they want to come with me, then I want it so that it's by their own free will."

Yona's expression was filled with confusion as Captain Gi-gan's shoulders started to shake with laughter. Taking a puff of her pipe, she turned her head, exhaling the smoke out to sea. A smirk made its way onto the captain's face and realization dawned on the princess.

She must consider them very close and care about them a lot to test me like that... Yona thought to herself.

I think I understand why though, Her eyes drifted to Yoon, Shin-ah, and Kija until they finally landed on Hak, who had his head thrown back in laughter, eyes shining in amusement as the pirates argued over a flushed pretty boy and a protesting Hakuryuu, with Shin-ah watching the whole ordeal studiously. I would do it for them too...

She recalled your words from your conversation earlier.

"Yona, can you kill someone?"

At the time, she avoided the question. It was so similar to what Hak had asked her before he agreed to teach her archery at the start of her journey.

She didn't want to hurt anyone.

Her father never wanted her to touch a weapon.

He never wanted her to bear the pain that would inevitably come with it.

For them, my comrades, my friends, Yona thought fiercely, I will become strong enough to protect them, too.

Her eyes widened as she found Hak's cobalt eyes staring straight back at her. Yona yelped as she flailed backwards, startled, tripping over a notch in the wood beneath her.

She felt wind rush past her and strong arms snaked around her shoulder, steadying her.

"Easy there, Princess."

Yona flushed a deep red, rivaling the one from earlier when Hak had poured honey on her hands. Her bodyguard peered closely down at her.

Why does she look so red?

Nah, there's no way.

He helped her gather herself to her feet, taking notice of her bandaged hands for the first time. He frowned. He didn't like to see her hurt. It made him feel like killing anyone who dared to touch her.

Years of unrequited love put Hak in a sphere of doubt every time she blushed around him or showed an indication of returning his feelings for her. Yona herself wasn't faring much better.

When was the last time she told him how much he meant to her?

The night her father was murdered was the most heartbreaking, earth-shattering night of her life. The man she thought she loved betrayed her, and stole the throne from her.

Yona's eyes grew wide as it hit her.

Soo-won's betrayal cut her deep, to the very core. He was her cousin, her best friend, that she had known since they were very young. But it wasn't just them, Hak had always been there too, watching over them both from the sidelines even before he became her bodyguard.

How had she not seen it before?

What was Hak going through? How much did he push away his feelings of anger and hurt when Soo-won's betrayal struck him to keep her safe?

Hak was staring down at Yona curiously. She had a faraway look in her eyes that she only got when she was deep in thought. His eyes narrowed as droplets of water started to fall from her eyes.

"Princess?" The tears glistening in her eyes when she met his eyes made him tighten his hold on her, examining her in alarm. "What's wrong?"

Yona sobbed into her hands, her body violently shaking as she was overwhelmed with the flood of emotions.

Anguish.

Regret.

Pain.

Hope.

Love.

They had been through so much together. The numbness that had overtaken her when her father died was only shattered by Hak. He had been there for her, above all else. She couldn't imagine life without him by her side. Yona remembered when he had fallen off the cliff when they were still in Wind Tribe territory searching for the priest when they had been ambushed by Fire Tribe soldiers. She thought he was going to die. Then, he had gone searching for his spear in the middle of the night when he was still hurt and she remembered waking up, feeling panic overcome her all over again. She fled to the forest to look for him, but he had found her first instead. Yona remembered tearfully berating him as she told him that he had to stay by her side.

It was selfish.

She knew she was being selfish.

After all, he gave up his freedom to keep his promise to her father.

At least, that's what she always thought it was.

But Yona's earlier conversation with you echoed in her head. What if it was something deeper than that? Something more than just responsibility to her father? Dare she say, to her?

"Hak, I-"

The amount of concern in his eyes pierced her to the core, causing all the words she wanted to say die on the tip of her tongue.

"Yes, Princess?" He prompted when she failed to speak.

Yona jumped, "I-I-I," She stuttered.

Hak brought her closer to him, studying her intensely and Yona blushed at his proximity.

"Princess..." He whispered into her hair and she squeezed her eyes shut.

His voice, when had it started to sound so alluring?

He moved too pull away, but Yona caught his sleeve, gripping it tightly. Hak choked, staring at the princess whose eyes were covered by her hair.

She needed to ask him about these feelings.

She needed to tell him how she felt.

She needed to know if he could ever return it.

"Hak...I-"

Yona was cut off as Shin-ah's soft voice reached her ears.

"Boats...Boats have gathered at the harbor."

That caught the attention of Captain Gi-gan as she looked at the blue dragon in alarm. "How many?" She asked quickly.

"7..." Shin-ah responded quietly, still gazing out into the distance.

Yona covered her mouth with her hand in shock, "7 boats?!"

But Shin-ah wasn't done. "People with weapons are on board."

Captain Gi-gan's lips pulled back in a snarl. "That damn Kum-ji! Does he plan on intimidating us?" She tapped her pipe against her shoulder. "Gather the brats." She ordered.

As the crew made their way below deck with the captain in the lead, she suddenly remembered that you and Jae-ha were most likely asleep. Captain Gi-gan sighed, rubbing her temples.

This couldn't wait.

"Yona," She called out from over her shoulder, successfully gaining the princess and her bodyguard's attention. "Could you wake Y/N and Jae-ha for me?"

The princess smiled, nodding happily at the task. Captain Gi-gan chuckled at her excitement over something so trivial, but then again, Yona did seem to take pride in the things she was able to accomplish. For a princess who once knew nothing, she was turning into a formidable force to those who threatened her.

"Do you know where their quarters are?" Hak questioned the bouncing princess beside him.

She hummed, "I think I remember." Squinting her eyes as she tried to recall the path you led her on before reaching your room.

"You think?" Her bodyguard teased.

Yona puffed out her cheeks. "Hak~" She whined childishly before darting down below the deck.

He blinked in surprise as a memory popped up into his mind of her. Young and immature, worrying over unimportant things like her hair and clothes back when things were much easier.

She was so innocent back then.

Hak turned to Kija and Shin-ah before he got too caught up in his memories. Yoon had gotten swept up with the other pirates who had trailed behind the captain a few minutes ago.

"We'll meet you there."

"Alright." Kija acknowledged, and Shin-ah dipped his head, then the two dragons headed off to go find the captain.

It didn't take him long to find the princess. She was wandering blindly from door to door, hesitating. The hallways were lit up with a warm glow from the torches placed by the doors.

"You really don't remember which one it is, do you?" Hak smirked.

"Stop teasing me!" Yona demanded, the pout forming on her lips caused his heart to stutter.

Why is she so darn cute...

"Ah! I think it's this one!" Hak almost crashed into her as Yona suddenly stopped in front of the last door.

"Are you sure you're not just picking it because we passed all the other ones?" He teased her.

She brought up her fists defiantly, scowling, "I am not!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure Princess." He waved her off.

Despite the dynamic of their usual teasing, Yona could help but smile instead of yell at him. She had seen you and Jae-ha tease each other, and she was starting to see it as affectionate rather  than just irritating.

Hak stared at her suspiciously when Yona didn't shoot back a witty remark. He stepped closer to her, pressing her up against the door and as his tall frame leaned over her. Yona brought her hands up to clutch the front of his robes, not drawing him closer but not pushing him away either, refusing to look at his face as hers turned a familiar shade of red.

"Really... Just how much are you going to push me..." Yona opened her mouth in protest, but he came closer to her, pressing his body against hers. She was reminded of how he had done this before, when they were in the woods after Yoon had healed them and he had gone to fetch his spear.

What if he wasn't checking for her temperature for a fever that time?

What if...

He had meant to kiss her?

But Hak just knocked against the door above her, and her eyes shot open as her heart filled with disappointment.

Why did it hurt when he pulled away?

Yona finally acknowledged the answer.

The truth.

She wanted him to kiss her.

A sleepy Jae-ha answered the door, and Hak blinked, peering around the green dragon who was running a hand through his hair, to see your form nestled in the bed, an adorable frown on your features. Yona turned around to face him.

Gosh she felt shorter than usual with the both of them towering over her.

"Captain Gi-gan needs you two in her quarters. Shin-ah's spotted ships."

Jae-ha's eyes widened, all trace of exhaustion gone as he shifted back into ruthless pirate mode. "Got it, we'll be right there." He nodded tersely.

He flashed Yona a charming smile, recognizing her nervousness. "Don't worry, Yona dear, it'll all be alright." He said flirtatiously.

Yona felt Hak's chest vibrate as he let out a low growl, wrapping an arm around her shoulders protectively and she stumbled into his chest. Jae-ha smirked at the Thunder Beast's possessiveness.

"Just get Y/N up," Hak snapped curtly, "You're already late."

The green dragon held his hands up in surrender, a smug smirk on his face. He shot Yona a wink as Hak pulled her away from the troublesome dragon.

Jae-ha closed the door, but didn't shut it all the way, knowing that you didn't like light blinding you when you first woke up. He crouched beside the bed, eye-level with you. Your eyes were shut, breathing even. His eyes softened, he really didn't want to wake you up, but this took precedence and he didn't want anyone to see you sleeping, knowing you felt uncomfortable with that.

He shook your shoulder gently, trying to rouse you from your slumber. Your brow furrowed, sleepily batting away his hand. Jae-ha couldn't help it as the corners of his mouth pulled back in an adoring smile.

Cute...

He got up, leaning over to whisper in your ear, "Y/N," With his coaxing, you opened your eyes slowly. "Captain Gi-gan needs us. There's been a development."

You scrambled up to a sitting position, terrified eyes scanning for any signs of a threat and Jae-ha hushed you, pressing two fingers to your wrist quickly.

"Not like that," He apologized, nosing your hair as you relaxed slightly. "Apparently Shin-ah's spotted some ships."

You nodded, raising your arms up at him and gazing at him with puppy dog eyes. He laughed, the sound sending warmth flooding all over your body, and he obliged; picking you up easily, with an arm hooking under your knees and the other supporting your back. Your hands immediately wound around his neck, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

Jae-ha tried to calm his racing heart as your breath hit his skin, lighting it on fire. He still wasn't used to it, but he certainly wasn't complaining. Soft, ambient lights lit up the hallway as he carried you to the opposite end of the ship, where Captain Gi-gan and the others most likely were.

Nudging the door open with his shoulder, both of your eyes flew wide open. The room was crowded, and everyone was looking at you. The pirates were scattered around the room, with Yona and her dragons plus Yoon taking up almost all of one side.

"You're late." The captain smirked, gaze regretful as she looked at you, but you smiled back reassuringly. She knew how hard of a time you had trying to fall asleep, but she wouldn't have called for you unless absolutely necessary.

Everyone turned their attention back to Captain Gi-gan as she began to speak. "Kum-ji is probably planning to go through with a large-scale trafficking deal soon." Jae-ha pushed through the crowd, making his way to an open spot on the floor beside Yona and the others. He sat down carefully, arranging you comfortably in his lap.

If you weren't so tired, you probably would have blushed.

"If shots are fired at the harbor, the people living in the area will end up getting hurt, so we will attack Kum-ji's boat instead." Captain Gi-gan stated.

Jae-ha held you tighter as he felt you tremble against him at the mention of the bastard's name. His heart thumped against his rib cage, soothing you as you pressed an ear against his chest, closing your eyes to block out everything else.

"The problem is, we don't know when it'll be carried out, and we don't know which boat the girls will be on." Jae-ha interjected, voice low, but clear enough to reach everyone in the room.

"That's right," Captain Gi-gan agreed, "Kum-ji will have people at the dealing that can be used as hostages. If we recklessly attack the boats, the people being sold will get mixed up in the fight."

She tapped a finger to her chin in contemplation. "On the other hand, the girls will be taken to the Kai Empire if we stand by and do nothing."

"Is there another way to ensure the safety of those women?" The captain addressed the crowd around her, opening up the floor to ideas.

One of the pirates pointed out that because it's such an important deal, there was a high chance of Kum-ji being there, and with their new allies, things should go much smoother than they were originally expecting. Jae-ha mindlessly ran a hand through your hair as he listened to the clamor. Your grip on the front of his robes tightened, and he dropped a soft kiss on top of your head.

"...We still need a little more information." The captain's determined voice rose above everyone else's. "We will restore freedom to this town."

The sound of steel splintering wood rang clear across the room as Captain Gi-gan stabbed the table with a dagger, eyes burning with resolve. "This time, I too will take up my blades. Follow me until the very end you brats!"

Jae-ha didn't notice the worried look exchanged between the girl in his arms and a particular red-haired princess.

[indulgentia]

@𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒐𝒇𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏  𝒔𝒖𝒃𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒅：

dark brown orbs that could challenge a delicious chocolate bar of the finest chocolatier, if they were still able to be shone on by the rays of the sun from the blue sky above her head, bore into the back of the woman’s head that was talking to the main host of this event. obviously Yeon would attend such an important event to support him. - only because of him! even matching her dress to the wine colored tie that she once gifted him about ten years ago yet, without thinking she was shamelessly intervening their conversation, knowing damn well what she was doing, something she had rarely felt before, not so much as of lately, nevertheless, came to a life threatening peak, like a glass filled with too much water running over the edge.  it did not take long for her arm to link with his and fake a smile at the other party in front. — knowing damn well who and what their intentions were. but everyone that knew him, also knew that once they played with him she could be the end of that said game if they dared. — ironically enough, even if it did not seem like it, yeon too could be like that and the advantage that she had was age, lots of it, if seven centuries could be considered old. – though smiling eyes and lips looked at both, they held a very threatening undertone, whether it was for him or her was up to both to decide on their own. “ how rude you are being.  introduce me to your friend, orabeoni. ” — let that game begin. ( yeon and gwi; apology written on discord already! ♥ )

Even  after  many  decades  and  many  decades,  the  apparent  need  to  keep  up  appearances  and  carry  out  tedious  formalities  didn't  seem  to  go  away  at  all.  The  things  he  was  obligated  to  do  to  maintain  the  power  and  comfort  he  had  desired  so  since  long  before  his  embrace  into  this  cursed  undead  life.  Things  that  eventually  became  part  of  his  routine  and  certainly  weren't  worth  much  closer  inspection,  had  it  not  been  for  the  company  that  had  taken  the  time  to  be  with  him  on  this  special  occasion.  Strange  to  see  her  wanting  to  accompany  him  to  yet  another  pointless  fancy  party  with  no  major  goals  except  perhaps  to  meet  some  of  the  important  new  members  of  the  night.  Maybe  the  fact  that  he  had  let  slip  that  there  would  be  foreign  women  visiting  the  place  seemed  unimportant  ——————————  to  him  at  least.  After  centuries  of  coexistence,  it  was  even  curious  that  she  would  bother  with  such  trivialities.  They  had  all  the  time  in  the  world  for  each  other  after  all.  But  surely  there  would  be  no  reason  on  his  part  to  complain  when  there  was  such  a  beautiful  sight  to  rest  his  eyes  upon  even  with  so  many  heinous  creatures  to  deal  with.

Clink  of  high  heels  on  the  floor  quickly  draws  the  obsidian  irises  up  to  the  feminine  figure,  whose  opulence  was  able  to  strike  him  stunned  silent  for  a  brief  second.  Surprise  isn't  quite  what  is  perceivable  on  his  face:  It  seemed  more  a  hint  of  admiration  towards  that  small  figure  that  even  after  centuries  could  still  leave  him  in  awe,  be  it  for  her  soft  genuineness  or  for  the  sweetness  of  each  and  every  mannerisms  of  her  no  matter  the  circumstances  they  could  be  in.  Yet  such  a  state  of  momentary  wonder  about  what  could  be  going  through  her  head  is  abruptly  interrupted  by  someone  desiring  the  Cainite’s  attention,  which  he  is  forced  to  oblige,  trying  to  direct  his  focus  to  the  creature  in  question.  A  few  words  as  usual,  a  bit  of  ego  stroking  complemented  by  his  most  beautiful  fake  smile.  Nothing  he  hadn't  done  before,  actually.  And  he  would  have  this  pretense  continued  were  it  not  for  the  unfold  of  events:  he  was  about  to  toast  the  success  of  the  occasion  and  the  advancement  of  his  business  in  and  outside  vampiric  societies  when,  all  off  sudden,  before  she  had  a  chance  to  touch  his  listener's  cup  with  his  own,  that  woman  again  held  her  sight  again  in  one  more  daring  attitude.

Despite  finding  himself  momentarily  awestruck,  as  his  subtly  widened  eyes  could  indicate,  Cardinal  promptly  tried  to  feign  some  indifference,  quickly  raising  his  glass  to  the  pair  just  ahead.  So  his  free  hand  is  used  to  reach  for  his  childe's,  slightly  cold  fingerprints  sliding  over  the  exposed  skin,  as  if  trying  to  hold  the  woman  in  the  very  place  she  was.  As  dangerously  smooth  and  slow  as  his  movement  is  his  velvety  voice,  enunciating  each  phoneme  ever  so  leisurely,  feigning  casualness:

❛❛ How  rude  of  me,  indeed. ❜❜    His  slender  fingers  curled  around  the  other’s  small  hand,  squeezing  it  lightly.      ❛❛ I  ended  up  forgetting  to  introduce  you  to  one  of  our  main  benefactors,  Her  Excelency  the  Archbishop  of  Madrid,  who  is  just  passing  through  our  territory  for  some  quick  affairs. ❜❜      During  the  pause  the  gaze  with  no  reflection  turns  towards  the  person  mentioned,  still  maintaining  the  said  formality  wrapped  on  a  charming  smile,  albeit  somewhat  forced.  Also  there’s  seems  to  be  an  effort  to  keep  a  purposeful  vagueness  in  his  speech,  so  as  to  indicate  some  lack  of  importance  in  their  relationship,  and  basically  omitting  the  fact  that  Yeon  was  a  vampire  herself.  And  worse,  his  very  direct  childe.  Taking  the  word  once  again,  his  words  don’t  seem  to  carry  the  exact  same  casualty  as  before,  being  actually  spiced  bit  a  bit  of  pride:       ❛❛ This  is  the  head  doctor  at  the  main  hospital,  Seo  Yeon.  She  currently  administrates  our  blood  bank  entries. ❜❜    Obsidians  stray  to  her  direction  again.      ❛❛ Though  I  didn't  think  she’d  be  any  interested  in  knowing about  our  partners . . . ❜❜