#but like. ultimately all of that shit is irrelevant | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

notiddygothgf · 2 months ago

Text

12. Ankle Biter

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ I think we both know what you want. Be a good girl and you might get it. You want me? ❞ ❝ Yes, please. ❞

★ c.w.: smut, denji. (NOT BETA'd. olivia will be my beta-er.) (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: IM BACK FROM THE DEADDDDDD!!! hi my pookies. so. depression and uni have been tag teaming me. woman in stem or whatever. your comments have been keeping me going!!! When you're reading this, I'll have a few chaps stored up so i don't have hiatuses like this anymore teehee. I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY THIS!! its a two parter, so chapter two will be coming soon!!! okay!! comment!!! vote!!! love you all!!!! muah!!!! xxx

★ w.c: .6.8k

shameless ; chapter index

YOU TOLD YOUR HUSBAND you had a mission today. You told him you would be out all day – and probably into the night – with division four, which wasn’t totally a lie. In fact, it wasn’t even a stretch of the truth by much at all. You had spent the earlier half of your day making rounds in Tokyo with division four, ultimately finding that the perpetrator of a series of mysterious sounds coming from the downtown area was a tiny little cheese devil, which was disposed of in a matter of minutes.

What had been a lie, however, was that you would be out all night with the entirety of division four. Realistically, it was only one member.

“I’m hopping in the bath,” Aki sighed. He slipped his blood-soaked shirt (and coat) into a black trash bag. He kicked off his Converses, too. In the other room, he had left the tap on so that the tub could fill with warm water.

You followed him to the bedroom door, which you had left cracked open by accident a few minutes earlier when you and him had stumbled home. In the living room, Aki’s roommates ran around barefoot, chasing after one another for god knows what reason.

Even with his back turned – his toned, muscly back that rippled when he moved – he towered over you. Stepping behind him, you asked, “Can I come with you?”

He turned around then, face dusted with that pink tint you had grown to love. Like he – after all of the unspeakable things he had done to you – was embarrassed at the prospect of you wanting to bathe with him. Always the gentleman.

“The gremlins are home,” He mused, much more quietly than he had been speaking only a few moments earlier. His eyes, as moody and blue as ever, darkened as he added, “You sure you wanna start something so early in the evening?”

You retorted, “I never said I’d be getting in with you ,” like you hadn’t originally planned on doing exactly that.

“You’re just gonna sit and watch me, then?” He asked slowly, brow arched a little higher.

Shit. You couldn’t bullshit your way out of this.

“Okay, well, then, maybe I will get in,” You conceded, arms crossed – only because the way he was looking at you made you giddy and… a little nervous, to be frank. “But that doesn’t mean I’m starting anything. Not after the stunt you pulled earlier.”

The stunt in question? Aki had snapped at you for putting yourself in a compromising position on the mission – one that easily could have resulted in your demise, of course, but that was irrelevant, because all that mattered was that he had raised his voice at you to say, “ Stop being a dumbass. You almost died .”

You were the one who pulled a stunt, if anything. Still, you loved getting him riled up.

When he only peered down at you with a humored little grin, like he didn’t believe a word you had said, you added, “I’m just gonna be there to hang out with you.”

“Mmh,” He hummed after a brief silence, “Right.”

He knew you were playing hard to get. It wasn’t working, either. Not even a little bit.

Aki didn’t say another word as he led the way to the bathroom, his shirtless figure moving with that same quiet grace you’d come to know so well. You followed him, your heart doing somersaults in your chest, even though you tried to hide it beneath a casual air. When he reached for the robe hanging on the counter, he tossed it your way with an easy flick of his wrist, and you caught it.

The bathroom was warm already when you arrived, closing the door behind you and Aki and locking it with a quiet click. Aki slipped out of his pants without a word while your back was turned, busying yourself with the robe in your hands, unsure why you were suddenly so shy about it.

You slipped your button-down off. Then your belt. Your pants came last – followed by your socks. Once you were in your undergarments, you stripped yourself bare – praying he didn’t see you in such an intimate position, like he hadn’t seen all you had to offer already.

You were trying to seem indifferent, but the soft sounds of his clothes hitting the floor did something to your composure. When you finally gathered the courage to turn back around, he had already sunk into the water, his body disappearing beneath the steaming surface.

Damn it. You missed it.

Now, Aki leaned back against the tub, his arms draped casually over the edges, and he was watching you with that half-lidded gaze that never failed to make your nerves fray at the edges. His hair, dampened slightly from the steam, clung to his forehead, and the way his eyes raked over you sent a shiver skittering down your spine. You stood frozen for a beat too long, feeling the intensity of his stare searing into you. He made no attempt to hide it.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you muttered, barely managing to sound anything but meek as you crossed your arms over your breasts.

“Like what?” he asked, his voice low and calm, though the smoldering gaze he cast your way didn’t falter. He didn’t even try to conceal the hunger in his eyes.

You huffed, rolling your eyes in a half-hearted attempt to mask the effect he had on you. You weren’t used to this kind of intimacy �� not with him staring at you like that, all relaxed and self-assured in the steaming water. Somehow, this was more vulnerable than being naked – getting ready to bathe with him.

With a slight shake of your head, you shrugged off your clothes and stepped into the tub, sitting with your back pressed against his chest. His strong arms bracketed your sides, and you felt the warmth of him radiating through the water.

For a moment, everything felt quiet, like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you. Aki’s fingers reached for a washcloth, his movements slow and deliberate as he wrung it out over his head, dark hair dripping with water. Then, he did the same for you, squeezing the warm droplets over your back, and you couldn’t help the way your body relaxed into him.

“Is the water okay?” He spoke – voice so low it was almost a whisper. “Not too hot?”

You were going to pass out.

“It’s fine,” You answered.

He hummed low in response, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. You hesitated for a moment before speaking again, voice a bit more quiet, but teasing.

"Your voice... It's super hot. Have I ever told you that?"

Aki paused, the water dripping from the washcloth over your skin like tiny, warm raindrops. He let out a low chuckle, and you could feel the way his chest rumbled against your spine.

"You think so?" he asked, his lips curving into a grin you didn’t even need to see. "Is that why you get all flustered when I boss you around on the clock?"

Heat flooded your face as you laughed, turning away from him a little. "I do not!" You tried to defend yourself, but the way your voice cracked betrayed you.

You absolutely did. Made you so hot beneath the collar that it wasn’t even funny .

"Yeah?" He leaned in, his lips ghosting over the back of your neck, sending a chill down your body despite the heat of the bath. His voice dropped lower, teasing as he mocked you. " Yes, Sir, " he purred, the tone rich and velvety. "Sounds so goddamn sexy when you say it. Drives me fucking crazy."

You couldn’t help the embarrassed laugh that bubbled up in response, biting your lip as you hid your face with your hand. "Stop," you groaned, turning your head away, the flush on your cheeks deepening. But he didn’t stop—he could feel your embarrassment, and that only seemed to encourage him.

"You’re not saying anything now," Aki teased, his hand never pausing in its slow, comforting rhythm along your back. You tried to gather your thoughts, but it was impossible with the way your pulse quickened whenever he even touched you. "You’re cute when you’re flustered."

You were going to combust. Actually.

His hand slid up from your shoulder, fingers lingering against your skin as they traced the line of your neck. You shivered, feeling the intensity of his touch, before his hand cupped the back of your head, gently tilting it back. Your breath hitched as your eyes met his, the steam swirling between you.

His lips brushed against yours, soft but deliberate, like a question answered in the quietest of moments. A rush of heat flooded through you, your pulse syncing with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The kiss deepened, slow and sweet, before he pulled back, just enough to speak.

"Thought you said you weren’t starting anything, hmm? " he murmured against your lips, his thumb tracing your jawline. And in that moment, the world felt small again—just the two of you, wrapped in warmth, as if nothing else existed.

“I wasn’t,” You tried to protest, but whatever reply you had planned died on your lips the moment he pulled you in – by your jaw – for another kiss. It was soft at first, careful — but it didn’t stay that way for long. Heat flooded between you as the kiss deepened, his wet hand gliding down your chest, teasing touches igniting your skin with a slow burn.

"Bullshit. You love to get me riled up," His voice, low and husky, made your stomach flip as he murmured, “So I can give you what you want, right? Because you know I’m the only one who can.”

You did. You really, really did. And he was right.

Your breath caught, and your mind scrambled for some witty retort, but all you could manage was a shaky, "What do I want, then, if you know so much?”

One of these days, you would learn to keep your bratty mouth shut. That day was not today.

His fingers were gentle yet deliberate as they ghosted over your stomach – up, and then down, stopping just above the water’s surface. His lips hovered near your ear, "Watch the attitude. I’ll give it to you if you ask nicely.”

And, as his fingertips dipped beneath the surface, slipping down over your belly button and ghosting over the skin of your navel, you figured you would do whatever he asked if it meant he would go a little lower.

“I think we both know what you want,” He hummed. “Be a good girl, and you might get it. You want me?”

You broke without so much as a second of hesitation, “Yes, please .”

“Where, baby?” He breathed, voice deep and hot against your neck, your ear – while his fingers trailed a little lower, just barely caressing the place where he knew you needed him. “Here?” His other hand left your chin to slide down your side, coming up around your ribs to cup your breast ever-so-gently, “ Here?”

“Yes– God, both,” You hissed quietly. When his hand slipped a little lower, towards the apex of your heat, you leaned into him.

“With those two sitting outside?” He added, continuing to tease you, like he was reveling in the feeling of drawing you closer to the edge of your patience. “We’d have to make it quick. They’ll start banging on the door any minute, now.”

You were going to say something, suggest that maybe the two of you should take a rain check on the bath, but the moment his fingers parted your lips and pressed gently on your clit, what came out was a desperate whisper of, “I’ll be quiet.”

“Good girl,” He breathed. Slowly, painfully slowly – he began rolling his finger over you in circles, applying a pressure so gentle it made your head spin.

Meanwhile, the hand groping your breast began to massage it. The air of the bathroom grew suddenly cold, and maybe it was the warmth of the water, or of his kisses down your neck, but you felt your nipples form stiffened little peaks. A wonton shiver ripped itself from your core.

Clearly, he was just as riled up as you were – something that was evidently pressing up against your ass. You shifted your hips back a little further so that he could get a little friction – take the edge off a bit.

His touch was like a lighter, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever his fingers traveled, sending goosebumps up and down your body. And, for a few minutes, he sat there, rolling his fingers over that little bundle of pleasure that had you bucking your hips up – biting your lip so hard to prevent a sound from escaping that you drew blood.

When his hand slipped further up the slope of your chest, fingers pinching your nipple, you mewled, arching your back.

“So sensitive today,” He said. You didn’t have to look to know he was grinning. Every time his calloused, wet thumb slipped over your nipple, you rolled your hips. “You want more?”

You nodded. Fuck, yes.

And, thankfully, this time, he didn’t keep you waiting. His fingers dipped a little further into you, tracing over your needy pussy like he had all the time in the world. It felt strange, given the water between his fingertips and your body, but not at all unpleasant.

Then, when you least expected it, he breached your entrance with one finger, eliciting a gasp from you.

He hushed you, taunting you as he murmured into the skin of your neck, “You’re gonna give us away. Gotta be quiet for me, baby. I know you can.”

When the other finger followed suit, you weren’t all too sure.

He propped his head up on your shoulder, glancing over at you. His eyes were dark, half-lidded, misty with desire. “Haven’t even started with you, yet,” He tutted. “My pretty mama… so sensitive. Thought you were mad at me, huh ?”

You said nothing – out of embarrassment, of course, but the way your whole body arched into his touch gave you away. Aki grinned, pulling his fingers out of you, then putting them back in.

You found yourself melting into him entirely. Desperate for some form of friction, you began to grind down on him; his hand, his lap.

“ Mmmh, ” you purred. His voice alone was enough to have you inching a little closer to your peak – already, like you were a pent-up highschooler and not an adult. You slurred, “Keep talkin’”

“Yeah?” He pressed more kisses to the inside of your neck. “You’re gonna take it like a good fuckin’ girl, aren’t you? For me?” His breath was hot and ragged, fanning against your skin with a purpose. He knew better than to suck hard enough to leave a mark. “Always so fuckin’ good for me.”

He leaned forward to capture your lips. You didn’t care that your head was craned at an awkward angle. You didn’t care.

You gasped when his digits curled up with a shocking suddenness. It was muffled, nothing more than a quiet cry silenced by the devilish onslaught of his lips dancing with yours like making a mess out of you was his job – and then you felt the pressure of his hand against your throat. That, combined with the feeling of his fingers curling inside of you, brushing against your tender walls… you were reduced to a babbling mess in a matter of seconds.

No one knew your body better than he did.

“Take it, baby,” He nestled his head into the crook of your neck, on the other side. His words, shadowed by his desire, spurred you on. His fingers picked up the pace. “Just like that.”

You shuddered, eyes threatening to roll back, feeling the slow pull and drag of them against your insides. When he scissored his fingers inside, you could feel yourself being stretched open. It felt so full, so good, your mouth hung open before you could even control it.

“ Aki ,” You whimpered weakly.

The way his fingers were hooked inside of you, fuck, they kept pushing at just the right spot. It felt like he was reaching into you and untying the strings of your orgasm; slowly, with every curl nudging you a little bit closer.

You glanced down at his arms. His big, strong, toned arms, his biceps, fuck. You could see the deep muscles of his forearm ripple and tense as he fucked you open with his fingers – a little quicker now. Your nails bit deep into the skin on his thighs, but he didn’t seem to care.

He seemed to be more focused on making you cum all over his fingers.

“You’re getting loud,” He spoke into your ear, nibbling just below the lobe soon thereafter. “What should we do about that?” The pace of his fingers quickened. “Feel good?”

“F–uck off,” You gasped out. “ Shit .”

He dove back into another searing kiss, body fitting against yours like two puzzle pieces finally reunited. You could feel him pressed up against you, his warmth, his hardness, and it sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body.

His lips spoke the language of his love, breathing his longing into your body. Your tongues were locked in a hungry, sensuous tango.

You whispered weakly, “Feels so good,” voice quivering with desire as his hand slipped away from your chest – he moved to cover your mouth with it, popping three digits deep into your mouth to shut you up.

“Want everyone to hear you?” He licked his lips. “Stay quiet, and I’ll give you what you want,” A pause, then he crossed his fingers, twisting them deeper into you in a way that had your back arching away from him, had your legs quaking,

“ Mn-ghh ,” You mewled around his fingers, feeling so damn good now that he was finally in you again. His fingers were so long, so big, the perfect size for you. No one could touch you like he could. You knew that.

You wrapped your tongue around the digits, sucking on them to give you something to do while you held in the shrieks of pleasure you knew would give you and Aki away to his roommates.

Pressing another messy kiss to your neck, he muttered, “ That’s my girl . You got it.”

You whimpered weakly in response. You were close enough already, and his voice was only nudging you closer and closer.

Somehow, despite the odds, the coil in your gut was drawing tighter and tighter. He was reaching deep inside of you and undoing you from the inside out like the lace strands of a tightly wound corset. The brutal pace of his long, fingers made your fucking brain go blank. You could do nothing but writhe and squeal for him.

He curved his fingers up sharply at just the right angle, thrusting his hand up and down and – before you knew what was happening, that warmth in your belly pooled up again.

“You’re close already, aren’t you?” He grinned, voice a low murmur. “So fuckin’ sensitive. Don’t worry, I got you. I’ll talk you through it. I’m right here.”

When you whined quietly, eyelids fluttering shut, his fingers pressed deeper into you, massaging that spongy place deep inside of you that had you shaking. You gasped, clawing at his thighs.

“I know, I know,” He reassured you, Saccharine words dripping with venom. “ Wanna make you cum. You can do it f’me, yeah? I know you can. ”

For him.

“I’ll take care of you,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck, rutting up against you. “ Make you feel so good .”

You gasped, the sound muffled by his fingers. Your body, however, gave a different signal. Your legs spasmed once more. His fingers were deep inside of you from both angles – three fingers knuckle deep in your pussy, three fingers pressing deep enough into your mouth to make you gag on them.

“So fucking beautiful,” Aki panted against your neck. “You’re doing so good for me.”

You could feel your guts clenching around his finger like you were trying to push him out. The sheer power this man had over you was near absurd.

“I got you, baby,” He panted, peering over at you with such feverish hunger that it made your legs shake. “You know I’ll always make you feel good, right?”

That much was true. You knew that he knew your body well – better than anyone else ever had or ever could.

Then, you moaned – it slipped out. Truly, you had never intended to let it slip. Yet, still, when his fingers curled up against a particularly sensitive spot with all of the ease of a harpist plucking at the strings of your core, your lips spilled a sinful, long, drawn-out moan, as if to say, Don’t stop, I’m close .

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” His smirk grew in size with a satisfied hum, “You gonna cum for me?”

Instantaneously, somehow, his fingers pressed the right spot – just the right amount of pressure – then it snapped. The coil of your release snapped with all of the power of a freight train, your orgasm slamming into you in a way that had your back arching up off of him. The ebb-and-flow of the pleasure made your mind run wild with desire – your hips rode it out like you were surfing waves..

You gasped, biting down on his fingers. Finally coming down from your high, you laid your head back.

Fuck me. I can’t believe I just did that. This was a new low for you – in the bathtub? While his roommates were outside doing god knows what?

He slid his fingers out of you slowly, savoring the way you clenched around them one last time before pulling out. He sucked the slick of your arousal off of his fingers.

“Hey, there. Welcome back.” He hummed, sucking gently on your neck, too gentle to leave a mark. The two of you panted, desperate to catch your breath. You were too weak to say anything as he turned your head to the side, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips.

You whimpered weakly in response. Aki chuckled, wrapping his arms around your trembling body and bringing you in for a hug.

“You okay, baby?” He hummed, tucking your hair away behind your ear.

This was too intimate. All of this was too intimate. It made you wonder what a life with him really would entail.

As if sensing your thoughts, Aki leaned in, his movements slow and careful, like he was afraid of shattering the fragile moment between you. His lips met yours in a soft kiss, tender and undemanding, the warmth of his mouth mingling with the steam from the bath. It was brief, but enough to send a shiver through you, a quiet promise hidden in the way his lips lingered before pulling away.

He hummed softly, the sound reverberating through the humid air as his fingers found their way to your hair, massaging the water into your scalp with slow, rhythmic movements. You closed your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you, the stress melting from your body as he worked.

Without thinking, you shifted, moving to sit on his lap, your hands reaching for his shoulders, intending to initiate the next step. But before you could, his hand caught your wrist, stopping you gently but firmly.

“No, not in here,” Aki murmured.

You frowned, a playful pout forming on your lips. "Why not? You’re still..." Your voice trailed off, your eyes drifting over his body, but before you could say anything more, his quiet laughter interrupted your thoughts.

“Let’s finish washing up first, okay?” he smiled, brushing his thumb over your wrist, his gaze warm but teasing as he held you at arm’s length. There was something so endearing about the way he was in control, yet still patient with you.

You sighed, the heat still simmering in your veins, but nodded nonetheless, settling back into the warmth of the bath as his hand resumed its soothing motions, reminding you once again that with Aki, there was always time.

There was always time.

After finishing up in the bath – taking about 30 more minutes just to shampoo, condition, and wash up, you and Aki helped you into your robe (which was his robe, but he was letting you use it) and tied a towel around his own waist. Even though you protested, saying you could limp back just fine, Aki insisted on carrying you back to his room.

The fabric of Aki’s robe was soft and plush against your damp skin. Thankfully, the living room was empty. It sounded like both Power and Denji had retreated to their rooms for the evening (but you could never be too sure).

Still, at the very least, you didn’t think anyone could see Aki walking back to his room, carrying you like a bride – hair dripping wet, completely bare beneath the oversized robe he had given you. Neither Denji nor Power could see the way your face flushed when you passed their rooms – doing your best to appear as if their Captain hadn’t just been knuckle-deep in your pussy.

Once you were in his room, Aki set you down on the bed. “Pajama shirts are in the top right drawer on the dresser. Sweaters are in the closet. You can wear my boxers for shorts, if you want. They’re top left in the dresser. I’m a towel short, so I’ll be right back.

You nodded. He pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head – leaning down to do so – and then left the room. You glanced around, taking a moment to soak in your surroundings. Aki’s room was so him , something so different from the cold apartment you knew back home with your husband. The walls of his bedroom were a soft, deep blue. All of his furniture matched – black. On his dresser, there wasn’t much more than a few small pictures and loose belongings he’d taken out of his pockets earlier.

Curiously, you rose to your feet and walked over, ghosting your hand over the smooth, finished surface of his dresser. There, like little mosaics of his life, the pictures told a story. A photo of him and Himeno on the far left – it looked like they were at some sort of event with a photobooth. She was grinning ear-to-ear, arm thrown around Aki’s shoulder, face a little flushed with what you assumed was liquor. Aki, in contrast, was pouting, as if the very idea of posing for silly little pictures pissed him off – he was younger, sure, and his hair was shorter, eyes a little brighter, but it was definitely him.

I still have to call her back and tell her what happened, You remembered.

The next photo was with Denji and Power. It was a picture of them at a bowling alley – Aki’s shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he was wearing that Poker-Face expression you knew so well. Denji was stuffing his face with a hot dog, and Power was grinning with her arms crossed.

The one after that made you stop in your tracks. It was a family portrait – or it looked like one, anyway. Aki was on the bottom left, wearing that miserable little pout of his. Behind him, a man and woman with black hair and soft features stood, smiling. Another boy was right next to him. He looked almost exactly like Aki, save for the shorter hair and youthful smile.

He really had been serious his whole life. Furthermore, after glancing one more time at the woman you assumed was his mother, you could tell where he got his good looks from. She was beautiful. It was an honest shame that he lost both of his parents so young.

The door clicked, a reminder that looking through people’s personal affects was weird, and you skipped over to the closet. Opening the door, you quickly snagged a big gray hoodie.

In tandem, the door to Aki’s bedroom opened. He came in looking like something straight out of a wet dream – towel tied loosely around his waist, his skin glistening with droplets of water that caught the dim light of his bedroom.

Your breath hitched as you caught sight of Aki’s bare chest, the defined muscles of his torso flexing slightly as he moved. Your eyes roamed up and down his body, lingering on the lines of his abdomen, the narrow curve of his hips, the way the towel clung to him just enough to drive you crazy.

Your mouth went dry, and you had to swallow hard to keep yourself from doing something stupid like staring too obviously or letting out the low groan building in your chest. It was impossible to look away, though — Your brain short-circuited before you could fucking think of anything else.

For a moment, neither of you said anything.

You blinked, trying to say something, but all you could think was: Fuck me. A ll you could think about was the man in front of you, who looked as if he had been cut from stone, shaped carefully by the hands of a Greek sculptor.

You were all too aware of the way Aki’s chest rose and fell with each breath, the droplets of water still clinging to his skin, the tantalizing glimpse of skin just above where the towel ended – the way the moisture trickled down his pecs and abs and his biceps , and–

“You want a picture?” He teased you. Then, clearly comfortable around you, he turned around and pulled a T-shirt, Sweatpants, and a pair of boxers out of the dresser.

You wanted to add something, perhaps a witty comeback, but you couldn’t think one up. Not when he reached down and untied the towel, letting it fall to the ground with a quiet ‘floop’, and certainly not when he pulled a pair of black boxers up to his hips, wiggling from side to side until it hugged his ass perfectly .

Any moment now, you were going to start drooling like a fucking dog.

“You have a brother?” You asked.

He tensed – evident in the way his shoulders bristled at the mention of it. “Had a brother,” He corrected with a sigh that made you regret bringing it up. “Taiyo. He died with my parents.”

You felt your own shoulders drop. Gnawing on your lower lip, you commented, “I’m sorry. You look like your mom, though. You’ve got her eyes.”

He stilled, the tension draining from his posture, and when he turned to look at you, sweats halfway up his long legs, his face softened too. “Thank you,” he murmured, and the way his eyes crinkled in the corners when he smiled made your heart flip.

He tugged his shirt on next, pulling it down over his lean frame, and then moved to sit on the edge of the bed, towel in hand. You watched, momentarily mesmerized, as he rubbed the towel through his damp hair, still half-distracted by the quiet ache in his voice from before.

Finally, you slipped out of your robe and pulled Aki’s sweater on. You didn’t want to let the moment linger too long, not when the air still felt heavy with what he’d shared.

You reached over and flicked on the radio on the nightstand, the dial clicking softly. The familiar melody of an old song spilled into the room, crackling in from a nearby station. An old 70’s song drifted through the speakers, setting a strange kind of peace over the space.

‘I go crazy,

When I look in your eyes, I still go crazy.

No, my heart just can’t hide that old feelin’ inside.

Way deep down inside.

Oh, baby, you know when I look in your eyes, I go crazy.’

Flopping back into the bed with a tired sigh, Aki glanced at you sideways, a small, amused smile playing on his lips as the song played on. He looked like the fatigue from the day he had finally caught up to him. You shifted closer, laying down on your side next to him.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, your noses nearly brushing. His eyes met yours, warm, soft blue, like pools of desire. There was a tenderness in the way he looked at you now that made you melt. Something unspoken, but not entirely unfamiliar.

‘I go crazy when I look in your eyes,

I still go crazy. That old flame comes alive,

It starts burning inside, way deep down inside,

Oh, baby, you know when I look in your eyes…’

For a moment, you didn’t need to speak. The music did all the talking, the lyrics wrapping around you both like a cocoon of nostalgia. But eventually, he broke the silence, his voice barely above a murmur. “You know… you didn’t have to say that about me. About my mom.”

‘I go crazy…’

You blinked, confused for a second. “I saw the picture on your nightstand. It’s true. Did I upset you?”

He let out a quiet laugh, his breath brushing against your cheek. “No, not that, but... it’s just strange, is all. ‘M not used to having someone notice the little details about me.”

“I notice a lot about you,” you admitted without thinking, the words slipping out, vulnerable but unguarded.

His eyes softened even more, something unreadable flickering behind them. “I know.”

There was a beat of silence, the intimacy thickening the air between you. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his fingertips lingering just a little longer than necessary.

“I love you,” he confessed, voice hushed, as though the vulnerability of the statement might break if he said it too loudly.

Your heart skipped at his words. You wanted to tell him that he did the same for you, that you’d been carrying around your own lonely weight for so long, but it was hard to find the words when his eyes were that close, and his hand was still on your face, warm and careful. Instead, you closed the space between you, pressing your forehead to his, feeling the soft hitch of his breath against your lips.

“I love you more,” you whispered, the words a promise.

His eyes searched yours, a lingering intensity beneath the softness, as though he was still making sure this moment was real. The space between you felt like it was shrinking with every breath, and then, finally, he leaned in. It was slow, almost hesitant at first, like he was giving you the chance to pull away, to stop it—but you didn’t want to stop it. His lips brushed yours, feather-light, barely there. The gentleness of it sent a shiver down your spine, making your breath hitch.

You felt your whole body relax into him, the world fading around you as the kiss deepened. His lips were warm and soft, moving over yours with such tenderness that it felt like he was trying to savor every second. He kissed you like you were something precious—like he had all the time in the world and wanted to make sure you knew exactly how much this moment meant to him.

It was the same thing as before – the same lips you had felt a hundred times before, passionate and gentle.

The warmth of his hand cupped your cheek, thumb grazing along the line of your jaw as he tilted your face slightly, angling the kiss deeper. You responded, leaning into him, letting yourself sink into the kiss, into him. It was slow, unhurried, but there was a steady pull between you, a quiet need that grew with every second your lips stayed locked together.

Your hands, almost of their own accord, slid up his chest, fingers tracing the lines of muscle beneath his shirt. You curled your fingers into the fabric, tugging him closer, and he obliged, his body pressing into yours as he shifted. His lips parted slightly, and when your tongues brushed, the kiss grew hotter, more urgent. A soft sigh escaped you, and he swallowed it, his own breath hitching in response.

You felt him smile against your mouth for just a moment before the kiss became more heated. He shifted again, rolling on top of you, his weight settling over you in a way that made your heart race. The heat between you intensified, the kiss turning hungry, both of you chasing the feeling, lost in the closeness. His hands wandered, sliding down to your waist, fingers digging in slightly as if he needed to ground himself, to keep from getting completely lost in you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, fist tangled in his damp hair, pulling him down even closer as you deepened the kiss, your lips moving together with a heat that sent electricity coursing through your veins. Every brush of his lips, every little movement, felt like it was setting something inside you alight. His mouth, his touch, the sound of his breath mixing with yours—it was all you could think about.

But then, just as the kiss reached a fever pitch, the door creaked open.

“When’s dinner gonna be rea— Oh, shit,” Denji’s voice pierced through the haze of your kiss, making your entire body jolt in surprise. He paused, voice lazy but amused. “Didn’t know you guys were getting freaky in here.”

Aki groaned, like shit like this was a frequent occurrence in this household, and threw the blanket over you to shield you from his roommate’s prying gaze. “What happened to knocking? ”

“Does Himeno know about you guys?” He asked. “It seemed like she did toda–”

“Denji,” Aki gritted out, rolling onto his butt and pointing at the door. “ Out. ”

“Fine,” Denji sighed, not moving from his spot, “If you’re gonna bang, do it quietly this time.”

“Do you want to starve?” He retorted.

“You’ll starve too, asshole,” Denji popped his hip out. “Some of us are injured. ”

Aki hissed, “You’re gonna have much worse than a busted leg if you don’t get out of my room.”

They’re like children, these two, you thought, but chose not to voice it.

“Alright, damn , sorry,” He conceded. “Can you make curry? Please?”

Aki’s gaze flickered from you to Denji, clearly weighing his options. The moment was already ruined, and you could see the gears turning in his head. He let out a low sigh, rubbing the back of his neck before meeting Denji’s gaze with a dry expression.

“Will you piss off if I do?” Aki asked, deadpan, his voice tinged with exasperation.

Denji shrugged, grinning lazily as he leaned against the doorframe. “I can try.”

Aki stared at Denji for a moment, as if he was weighing whether it was even worth the trouble. With a sigh, he pushed himself up from the bed, glancing at you briefly before heading for the door. As he slipped off the bed, he leaned down just enough for his voice to reach your ears, low and steady.

“ This isn’t over, ” he murmured, his eyes flicking to your lips for a beat before he turned and walked out, leaving you sitting there with your heart racing.

As soon as Aki was gone, Denji gave you his usual lazy grin, completely oblivious to the tension that still hung in the air. “Hi, by the way,” he quipped, wiggling his fingers in a half-hearted wave before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

You sighed, cheeks still warm, but a small smile crept onto your face. Typical Denji.

After taking a second to steady yourself, you got up and followed Aki down the hall. When you reached the kitchen, he was already there, pulling two cans of beer from the fridge. He cracked them open with practiced ease, the soft hiss of carbonation filling the quiet space.

Without a word, he handed you one, his earlier promise still lingering in the air between you, the cold bottle brushing your fingers. “Here,” he said, his voice a little softer now that it was just the two of you again.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking a sip. The cold liquid slid down your throat, a welcome contrast to the heat still lingering in your body from earlier.

Aki leaned against the counter, his shoulders relaxing as he took a swig of his own beer. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there beside you, the two of you wrapped in a comfortable silence. The tension from the bedroom had faded, replaced by the easy calm that always seemed to settle in when it was just the two of you, no interruptions.

After a moment, he glanced over at you, his lips twitching into a small smile. “I don’t know who he thinks he is,” he said, a little amused. “ Hi, by the way ,” Then, “Fuckin’ ankle biter.”

You raised an eyebrow, taking another sip. “What? You mad he interrupted us?”

“Maybe.” He deadpanned, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Is curry fine with you?”

“Sounds perfect.” You smiled.

A/N: [pornhub lady voice] If you liked chapter 12... you'll LOVE chapter 13....... you know i hate to blue ball yall. thats why i wont!! stay tuned!!!! again, comment and talk to me, wya, i missed yall. how r u? howd u like the chapter??? what do u wanna see in the story?????? tell me everything omg. also HAPPY HALLOWEEN BITCHZZZZZZ !!! i'm gonna get wasted as little bo peep. wish me luck -- if my man lays it down who knows i might be inspired to write a smutty chapter about it. (stay tuned) seriously though take care yall!! i'm so glad to be back!!! kisses and hugs xx

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#shameless!#aki hayakawa #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #aki smut #aki x you #aki hayakawa x you #hayakawa aki x you

103 notes · View notes

dubiousculturalartifact · 9 months ago

Text

fanny price DOES get a great happy ending, fight me

like okay no, fanny does not successfully tame the Rake and reform him into a sexy sexy faithful husband. yes, we could argue all day about whether edmund bertram is underrated or a soggy biscuit of a man, but that fact is ultimately IRRELEVANT. HE is irrelevant except as like. a piece of the broader picture the ending of mansfield park only sucks if you're viewing it from the extremely narrow and shallow lens of like: the modern capital R romance, where the woman's happily-ever-after is defined by her attaining the Ideal/Most Desirable Man™. but that's not what the novel is about!

fanny price's happy ending is BEING PROVEN RIGHT AND HER WORTH ACKNOWLEDGED after putting up with YEARS of fucking bullshit despite CONSTANTLY being a better judge of character, of morals, of good sense, than literally ANYONE ELSE AROUND HER. fanny price's happy ending is her spending months going 'HMM I"M GETTING BAD VIBES' and everyone saying 'stfu fanny you don't know shit' and at the end of the novel she gets to watch everyone else either blows up their entire life as a result of ignoring The Vibes, or fall over her trying to apologize because HOLY SHIT FANNY WHY DID WE NOT LISTEN TO YOU ABOUT THOSE VIBES and people being like WE TOOK YOU SO FUCKING FOR GRANTED WE FUCKED UP'

and she is like: yes, I know this, and finally everyone else does too, and that is literally all i have ever wanted in life fanny price's happy ending is people apologizing and acknowledging her worth fanny price's happy ending is basically the equivalent of her sitting there smiling with genteel energy while her inner self is performing this dance

and honestly: i love that for her

#mansfield park #jane austen #fanny price #are you ever like: i need to go to bed early #but i need to yell at the internet about mansfield park more

393 notes · View notes

threepandas · 4 months ago

Text

Bad End: Royal Red

Have you ever seen blood BURN like the sun?

I'm not even sure "burn" is the right word for it. Writhe? Scream? HATE? Like a standing on a cliff, staring down at a valley consumed in flames. Old forests full of life... burning. Dying. Wrong.

The sky choked with thick black smoke. Tar-like and staining. The ROAR of it. Moisture ripped so utterly from the air, it hurts to breathe. Heat so absolute as it rises... you can not imagine there was ever, EVER life here.

But there was.

And it was once beautiful.

Ancient and green, bird song and morning mist. Moss beneath bare feet and the gentle quiet that is no quiet at all. A thing ALIVE. Breathing. Whole. Now gone beneath the flame. The carnage and hunger. As animals flee for their lives and your men die, desperate to hold back the all consuming spread.

Nothing but FIRE remains.

But have you seen BLOOD burn? The weeping wounds of a soul? The... WRONGNESS inside a man, catch light? A shade of ever overlapping crimson. Drying blood somehow just as fluid as the fresh. Old wounds and new. Somewhere, the depth of scars...

BURNING.

I have.

I do.

I wish I did not.

There is something... WRONG with his Highness. Now, the Crown Prince. He... He HAD brothers. Some were awful, others indifferent. But all of them? All of them are gone. Terrible accidents, allegedly. One after another. And they were NOT the only one's. Consorts, lovers, mistresses and supporters. Allies and anyone unfortunate enough to be in his Highness' way.

But of course, I can prove nothing. And to SUGGEST such a thing? That would be Treason. Defamation of a Royal. That it is TRUE? Holds no bearing. Is utterly irrelevant. Even if I HAD had the proper training, even I'd my Gifts WERE formally recognized, ultimately? Politics is King.

It's not supposed to be. But when has life ever been so kind? When has "supposed to" EVER won the day? No. Such talk gets men killed. And dying once? Was quite enough for me.

Though I HAD to wonder...

How does a Protagonist fuck up SO BADLY, that they somehow send their Hidden Route target, into an empire conquering, murder spiral? That's not "a few bad choices" levels of making a mistake. THAT'S? Damn near deliberate sabotage and I just wanna talk. Violently.

I WOULD too, if I wasn't pretty certain they were either on the run or in exile.

All I had wanted? ALL I HAD EVER WANTED?? Was to just be set dressing. Soldier A, the unimportant background gaurd. A nice, faceless, grunt. Maybe chat with my equals of plot significance, a potted plant and yonder chair. Then? I could take my pay, go home, and live quietly.

But NO!

I get stationed following the Seventh prince. Mr. Hidden Route himself. Which? Okay, fine. Was HOPING for gate duty, cause NOTHING happens on gate duty, but FINE. But THEN? Half my co-workers are ASSHOLES. Like... child abusing assholes! The FUCK?!

So? Oops. Accident on the stairs! Whoops! Lemme help you there, man. Oh? Did I ACCIDENTALLY crush the hand you used to hit that kid? Golly! Gee, I sure hope the healers can fix that for you! (I fucking know they both can't and wouldn't if they could. You can't afford SHIT.) Lemme HELP you there, AGAIN, BUUUUUDDY~☆!

Threatening you? Why I would NEVER! That's illegal!

You know... like hitting kids.

And OTHER shit they try to pull. Never DID get around to updating my Gaurd Forms. Whoops. Turns out being able to literally SEE the malicious intent on a fucker? Makes it pretty easy to know who to watch. DID get jumped a lot though. Stabbed a few times.

I just? Wanted to watch my favorite Otome game play out, you know? Get payed while doing it. Sunk cost fallacy kicked in. I've been here since I was a PRE-TEEN. Signed up for training, a ten year contract, and everything! I can LEAVE now... but like? Go WHERE? And honestly... I'm not actually sure I CAN.

Things are... Tense.

Or maybe they're just tense for me? 'Cause... Cause something isn't right. It's that burning blood color. The way it fills a room. Reaches, covetous, like staining hands. Writhes and drags itself against everything. Something unholy, between a lustful grind and the dragging of the wounded. It's not even demonic. No... somehow? It's WORSE for being utterly human.

There is something deeply wrong with the man I am sworn to obey, and I do not know how to escape him.

Because I definitely SHOULD.

I'm not stupid. He's been... been keeping me, SPECIFICALLY, close at hand, since becoming Crown Prince. The SECOND he was able to assign his OWN gaurds? I am suddenly honor gaurd. Yet not. I have basically no job but to stab just behind and to the side of him and look pretty. (For the given quality of THAT.) And...? Even the other gaurds are looking nervous.

It's NEVER a good thing when powerful people suddenly pay attention to an individual gaurd, servant, or maid. They tend to end up... hurt. Dead. Worse. And given recent behavior? Well... I've been getting offers to quietly arrange an "accident" for me.

Not so sure it won't get everyone involved killed.

He wasn't always LIKE this. Yeah, he was... different, but it wasn't BAD. Just... off. A bit weird. A color I hadn't seen before and couldn't for the life of me figure out. It had been... well, nothing. Not even grey. I KNOW grey, it's apathy or depression. Emotional flatness.

But his Highness? Like mist. The lite distortion of water droplets. Colorless and near weightless, drifting gently along. It was as though he DIDNT have emotional responses to anything. Not even flat. Just... non-existant. Which? If so? That's okay! Really. Takes all types. Something to NOTE, yeah, maybe accommodate? But fine.

It's not like there were psychiatric meds or doctors we could get for him. If he was different, so be it. We just had to work around that. Plan accordingly. Worst case scenario, maybe keep him away from small breakable things. But? He seemed benign. I shrugged and moved on. Accepted him as he was.

Maybe went out of my way to explain things with logic more then feelings. Even when I WAS explaining feelings. Ethics. Pretty much anything else he asked. Which... wait a second...

Fuck.

A nameless gaurd SHOULD NOT know that much about psychology or politics. Economics on the macro or micro scale. Oh god DAMN it Wikipedia! You betray me a lifetime away?! Et Tu random research binges!?

Okay. Okay! So maaaaybe? THATS why he's keeping me close? Cause yeah, I'm pretty stacked these days. No internet kinda leaves nothing BUT time to train and read... and books are kinda hard to get, at my level. So like? Maybe a second set of eyes?

....doesn't feel right though. Close but missing the obvious mark-ish.

I try to think of my interactions with the prince. BEFORE murder-spiral kick-off. He sought me out a lot. I interfered so many times when his Tutors crossed lines, they got me kicked out of the main building. He started skipping lessons to self-study. I got put on patrol? He learned my patrol schedule. Would invade the gaurd mess.

Got punished for that, I think. Vicious cycle. I get punished, he gets upset, wants to make sure I'm okay, I get punished for his basic empathy and being a kid. They kept reassigning me. I got stabbed that first time. Sent too...

Wait.

I try to pull up what I know of the Game in my brain. The Hidden Route and the other Routes. We are.... WAY off script. Not off GENRE... just...?

Mentally I set the Game aside. Shifting in my guarding position at the Crown Prince's side. He continues to work. The soft rustle of papers and the scratching of his pen, filling the silence along side the clink and shift of my armor. We are in the sun room, surrounded by flowers, supposedly for the better light.

To be honest, I hadn't ever BEEN in this room until I was basicly expected to tail the Crown Prince like a glorified, armor wearing, pet. And too be honest? Given that the REST of his honor gaurd were ACTUAL KNIGHTS? It was well beyond ridiculous at this point.

I was a club bouncer surrounded by elite special forces, in fancy little armor, that I could in NO way, have ever afforded on my own. Oh, and I wasn't really allowed to talk to them. So... WHY? Why, EXACTLY, was I here? There was no realistic way anything could get PASSED all those knights. I certainly wasn't PROTECTING the Crown Prince from SHIT.

And... and he hadn't attacked me, thank God. No touchy hands "service to the crown" shtick. Demanding things I couldn't refuse him. So THAT wasn't it...

Right?

My brain insisted it wasn't. That I should keep going over the list of possible reasons. Consider This or That. But... Something in my gut? Rang like a struck bell. Some non-physical part of me. That peice that twined, like gentle golden ivy, up through my body, too wrap around my eyes from the inside. Not enough, maybe, to get me into some high and mighty school or apprenticeship... but ENOUGH.

Because Magic was, is, and always has been? Divine. For all that HUMANS fail while using it. For every MORTAL error in it's implementing or understanding. It's a drop of the Divine. And? You can not LIE to the Gods. Hide, perhaps, but not LIE. Even then, you'd have to know what you're hiding FROM.

Kinda hard to hide from "using past life knowledge to deduce motivation" when that's not exactly a thing people can easily guess I HAVE. I get away with shit. Know things I really shouldn't.

Am.... am desperately trying to convince myself that the twinge I just felt? DOESN'T mean what I think it means. Even as a cold sweat breaks out over my skin. As I desperately keep my expression placid and my stare straight into the middle distance. Ha ha.... oh god. No no no, oh god, no...!

Okay. OKAY! Lying to yourself will NOT keep you safe! We can do this! Nothing is happening. We just... just have to play it cool. NOT. PANIC.

He DID want us for sexual reasons.

But... more? More, maybe. I poke at the feeling. Try to frame my thoughts as absolute statement as see if I get a twinge again. To get a feel for the edges of whatever is happening. I can not protect myself, if I do not KNOW from what I protect AGAINST. Just sex? No. Was I a convenience choice? Also No. Revenge for something? A sudden certainty that I'd be DEAD if it was.

Oh, THATS not concerning at ALL!

Okay, keep prodding. Uuuuh... He has a thing for big muscle-y dudes with scars? Strong yes. Okay! Getting somewhere! Kinda thought he liked the petite, girly girl-ish typ-? Weirdly hollow No? Strong. Okay, what the FUCK. See THIS? THIS is why I wanted to be a fucking GAURD. No weird Protagonist of any adventures bullshit! Just a 9-5 with a paycheck at the end!

Uuuugh. Okay, soooo... likes? Strong dudes.... and I was the closest? No. Okay! Getting somewhere! Other strong dude... isn't available? Yes, but I am looking at it wrong. Great. At least I know what that feeling MEANS. Still wish it would just follow up with a "and btw, here's the answer~☆" but, fuck no! Why would life make anything EASY for a guy?

Fuck it! Random shit at the wall time. He's definitely in love with the Protagonist? No. Wait, really? Then why...? No. Stay on track. He's in definitely in love with ME? I wait, utterly expectant, for the twinge that will mark a negative. Half cursing myself for not checking with the Divine sooner. There had been no excuse. Distractions, yes, but no excuse.

It feels like getting sucker punched in the gut. HARD.

Takes everything in me, not to wheeze and double over. That... that wasn't a "yes". That was so FAR beyond "yes" I'm not sure there are spoken, written, or even conceptual WORDS for it. As absolute a CONCEPT of Yes as I have ever felt or probably ever will.

It... It did NOT feel good.

That was a WARNING.

Like the Gods them selves had taken me by the back of the neck, stepped close, to whisper in my ear as they drove their fist into my gut. "Pay Attention To This. RUN. You Need To RUN. There Are Monsters Here."

My eyes feel like they are burning. Like I haven't blinked in too long. Colors a bit too bright, details too sharp. The edges of reality cutting like splintering, glittering, glass. Everything has a GLOW to it. It's never done that before. Is... is this panic? Fight or Flight forcing me to draw deeper then I ever have before?

Or are the Gods paying attention? Displeased by what they see?

The room around us is... is so quiet. Beautiful. Rare flowers, teeming with life. Decorative and pampered little song birds, flitting from roost to roost. The rich scent of rare tea and expensive cologne, mixing with armor polish and the scent of green, living things. Sunlight makes his Highness' hair glow like it was made of it. Pale gold and filled with light.

If I could not SEE... his Highness would be beautiful.

But I can, and instead? He's terrifying.

I think I'm shaking. I don't understand. The room around me picturesque. Peaceful. Golden and filled with gently beautiful things. Light. It feels mocking. Paper thin. Like some cruel trap laid out over a pit of tar. As though, like in the cartoons of my old childhood, the INSTANT I become aware... acknowledge the reality of my ACTUAL surroundings?

The paper thin veneer will rip, no longer able to hold my weight, and I will be plunged into the horrors just beneath the lie.

How.... HOW did-?! I... I CAN'T-!

I put everything I am, into letting nothing show. E-Everything is FINE. Do not turn around. Please. Please, Gods, do not notice me or turn around! I breathe. Breathe. Can't do nothing now, but breathe. Panic is the mind killer. I remind myself of that. People do stupid things, when they act in panic. Think. THINK! Plan. THEN act! Breathe.

How? HOW did this happen? Trace it back. Find the source and we can... can maybe unhook the noose. Fix this? Escape? Run and keep running. Find the edge of the map and keep going. Where did it...? My brain, maybe my magic, finally takes pity. Connects the wires that have long been JUST missing each other. My mental list of Genre Troupes. My history with the Prince.

The blood drains from my face.

Oh fuck. Shit! Oh fuck, oh SHIT. Yandere. He was a YANDERE hidden route character! Wasn't he!? It's the only thing that makes sense with the-! No, no, he should still-! But, wait. No. No, no, NO. Oh god! I pulled a combo attack. "Childhood best friend" even though we WEREN'T. I was basically the closest in age to him! AND the only non-asshole! So that's "Different From The Others"!

Oh mother FUCKER, I pulled a "Only One Who Cares About Me" while SERVING him! His fucked up little squirrel brain would have taken that as "belonged to him" only to have me "taken away" when I was assigned elsewhere! Every time I kept someone from ABUSING him, I was making it WORSE. Every time they reassigned me, somebody was "trying to take me away"!

Oh sweet merciful FUCK, I got STABBED!

No WONDER he lost his absolute shit! He was unhinged to begin with! But instead of latching on to Protagonist and being HER problem, he latched on to ME! Why did no one warn me he was-!? Actually, I have no idea. Non-Just-Straight?! That! One of the THAT! Like FUCK I'm asking! He'd think it was an invitation, probably!

Because he NUCKING FUTS! Squirrels in the brain! Def Con OH SHIT!!

Yandere! Shit! I'm gonna di-!

"Something's upset you." The crown prince's surprisingly deep voice says, breaking the silence. I flinch. "I can feel your magic moving. An attack, perhaps? Or is someone saying something they should not."

He... oh, great, amazing! He can FEEL my magic. The magic INSIDE me body. That magic. Yeah, I don't feel stripped naked and on display AT ALL. Thanks! Definitely not invasive, your Highness! Still, I have to answer. Carefully. Very, VERY carefully.

He hums, disbelieving, as I reply. Lifting his pen and setting it aside. A graceful hand lifts. The mere flick of his fingers. "Move" it means. "Come where I can see you". Imperious and royal. Casual in it's assumed control of me. Why would he believe anything else, after all? He IS a prince. The CROWN Prince. Future KING.

He DOES own me.

I keep my breathing even. Keep my hands from visually shaking by tightening my grip on my spear. Even, professional, steps. Forward. Turn. Face your ruler. Your BETTER. No eye contact. Even breathing and eyes to the horizon. You are a statue. Just... just be a statue. No thoughts. You can do this.

It doesnt help. I can FEEL those pale, pale eyes. Striking and blue. Rare flower petals or glacier ice, they have been called. Compared to all sorts of haunting things. The Crown Prince is a beautiful man. That dangerous sort of pale beauty, that make for excellent portraits, of bright and holy things. That fools the eyes into thinking surely, SURELY the soul before your is Good. Trustworthy.

How could anything so beautiful be DANGEROUS?

Be corrupted and insane? A killer. A madman.

A MONSTER.

I stand at attention. Where he can observe me. His little toy soilder. Kept like a PET, I know realize, and try not to feel like I am being picked apart. Like a mouse in some tigers cage. The far wall sure is fascinating. Mmmmhmm. Very... very wall-like. Glass and artfully arranged flowering vines. Very pretty. What a wall! Ten stars for wall-ness.

The near silent shift of fine fabrics. A tap. Nail on high grade armor alloy. Just the smallest of sounds that nonetheless seems deafening. I barely stop myself from jerking back in alarm. Can't prevent my gaze from snapping downwards. To the arm outstretched, the elegant hand curled, the well manicured finger nail on the single outstretched finger... that has placed itself right over my heart. I freeze, utterly.

"You're getting nervous, aren't you? Growing uncertain. I've been so busy planning ahead, I've forgotten the here and now, haven't I?" He muses. That finger I should not be able to feel, that somehow feels like a knife trailed along my skin, glides slowly down. A meandering path down towards my belt. "I've neglected you."

The finger hooks into my belt. I am dragged forward a few stumbling steps with a deceptively strong tug. There is significant muscle, hidden by the almost waifish cut of his Highness daily wear. The eyes watching for my reaction are predatory. Intent. It was as though there should be fangs, in that pleasant, politician's grin...

"My steadfast knight, warrior of my heart, you've been so patient for me... so LOYAL." He rolled the word across his tongue as he said it, eyes locked on me with the sort of interest hunter keep, more a sigh then a word. Somehow.. Somehow the concept became OBSCENE, once in his hands. "So good for me. Even after all this time. Soon, Dearest. Soon we won't have to hide. I promise."

I had NEVER been a knight. Not even CLOSE to qualified for the training. Not even a single branch, magical or otherwise. Worse? I knew for a FACT? We had never, not ONCE, been lovers. No stolen glances. No fumbling youthful hands. No "hey, let's explore this closet!". Nothing. I? Had been studiously professional, if a decent human being.

This was ALL him.

What narrative had he painted in his head?

My heart pounds. My brain somehow both gibbering hysteria and unnatural calm. I... I think I may be disassociating. But all I can think, all I KNOW, is that I can NOT, Under ANY Circumstances, break the illusion. Do NOT argue. Why YES, deeply insane FUTURE KING, I DO love you so VERY much! Hey, don't mind me, just left the phone running. Gonna go for a walk. Buy some milk.

I watch, pleasant service industry smile feeling plastic on my face, as he leans forward. Rests his head against my armored chest, as though we were lovers. Just stealing a quite little moment alone. His hand slides along my belt, fingers hooked into it, the brush of his knuckles feeling far filthier then any groping hand. I can HEAR him breathing me in.

Obscene. How is he making such chaste contact so deeply obscene? He let's out a pleased hum and I want a shower.

"Kneel for me?" So soft I almost don't catch it, it takes a moment to register the words. This time, I can not stop myself from tensing. I know he feels it, but can not bring myself to care. "Shhhh shh shh, none of this, my Darling. To your knees before your King. Sweetheart, my dearest. You're going to be serving me there for the rest of our lives. It's okay. Your King won't rush you. He knows how shy you are. How nervous."

W-Well THAT wasn't treason! At ALL! Ha ha...! Oh god.

Hands at my waist. When did the other one-?! I'm shaking. Smile. D-dont set him off. This is fine. I... I shouldn't be ABLE to feel their heat, through my armor. Somehow I do. I want to back up. If I got to do this? At least let me-!

But, no. Pressure. Hands on my hips dragging me down, watching eyes expectant. In stops and starts... like a seizing automaton, my knees bend. Down I go... I guess.

Almost instantly, there are hands unbuckling my helmet. Sliding it off. Stealing it away. Fingers slide through my hair. Cup my cheek. A thumb running itself across my mouth. The prince seemed to loom. Hungry as he stared down at me.

"Beautiful. My loyal knight is so, SO beautiful. I am going to give us the world. Take what is ours. No one will EVER hurt us again, Dearest. I will keep you forever. Dress you in armor and roses. Mine and mine alone."

There was madness in his eyes. Obsession. Is...is that what that color meant? That burning, terrible blood? It's too late. Oh god, it's too late for that to help me. I smile. Do not argue. Fear and fear and fear. I have to get out. On my knees, it is a terrible view of what's to come, should I fail. The Games's utterly fucked. I no longer care.

I have to get out.

The King, after all, has gotten sick lately.

118 notes · View notes

reitziluz · 1 year ago

Text

thinking about the way psychics both are and are not a known factor in the world of mp100. the worldbuilding is light, allegorical, and comedic, but even meeting it where it's coming from, it paints a delightful picture of how the rest of the world relates to the supernatural shit.

like, clearly most people don't believe in psychic power, or at least they don't assume it to be real. but when confronted with it, the more common reaction seems to be along the lines of "ah shit, huh, makes sense i guess." inukawa knew mob is a psychic, and brought it up without hesitation, like oh yeah, this is a known thing, but was then surprised among the others to see how much mob can do. the talk show is difficult to interpret, because it was a trap set up for reigen specifically, but how things play out, it feels like being a legitimate psychic isn't quite as outlandish an idea as it would be in our world. actual psychics don't seem to be putting much effort into hiding (if they're even trying to hide), there's unions, the goverment can put together a psychic suicide squad, the news can show a giant broccoli flying, there's books with instructions to meet aliens that actually have some truth to them, and yet people aren't that aware. and yet again, people like mitsuura and amakusa exist.

it feels like the supernatural is... kinda boring? weird stuff just happens occasionally, and it doesn't have much bearing on people's lives. the rest of it works like how essential oils do actually have certain effects and uses (for example, insect repellent), but then there's just a mountain of bullshit and people selling you things, so you don't really bother with any of it. cases like mob feel like ball lightning, as in i remember reading about it right next to absolutely fake shit as a kid and being told it's not real, but it is real, but fucked if anyone knows what exactly it is and some of the reports and theories are suspicious as hell. just. weird shit in the world that's ultimately irrelevant and uninteresting to most people.

the delightful part is that this all reinforces the idea that psychic power is just one quality among many that people can have.

but also.

when reigen founded spirits and such. i do not know how exactly it works where i live, let alone in japan. but registering a business. don't you usually need to put down what type of business you're running? did he have to figure out a close enough option, or is there a standard one to pick for psychic business, something they're considered to fall under, or even a psychic specific one?

delighted by the thought that spirits and such is officially a spa or something instead of what the industry standard is. reigen either didn't know which one people usually pick, or chose against the standard because it was less of a hassle. or tax reasons. imagine.

#mp100 #i love the casual vibe of the worldbuilding #but tbh mostly thinking about like #oops seri you can't become a full partner in the company #the govt knows you're a psychic so we'd be hit with the psychic tax #this is the only form of tax evasion i can think of reigen actually committing dfgdsfgdf

249 notes · View notes

bookatans · 1 month ago

Text

After reading Dooku: Jedi Lost it's so hard not to get stuck on how his closest mentors happened to be on the opposite side of a very complex spectrum and how that has just as much to do with the way Dooku's opinions of both the Jedi and the Republic were formed as much as his years of messaging Jenza.

On one hand, you have Yoda, who we all know. "Wise and inscrutable," as Sifo-Dyas put it. Yoda is the picture of what a Jedi is supposed to aspire to be. He is the be all, end all of Jedi-hood. Under Yoda's teaching, Dooku was placed in a position where he forced himself to be the best — already an issue he faced before becoming a padawan.

On the other, you have Lene Kostana. From the first time meet her in the audiobook, they tell you that Lene Kostana is someone that the Jedi Council scrutinize and don't take seriously. Her interests in Sith history are seen as irrelevant more than they seem dangerous. Everyone is blind to the idea that the Sith could make a return, while she's preparing herself for a potential – and, to her, ineviteable – ressurection of the Sith.

In a perfect world, these two opposing forces would create a balance where Dooku might be able to learn from two teachers whose ideals might clash, but could ultimately be interwoven to form something coherent.

But this isn't a perfect world. From the very beginning, Dooku already has conflicts of interest, and they only add on over time. He's in contact with Jenza – a sister a Jedi is not supposed to have–, he struggles with an attachment to Sifo-Dyas, he has a tendency to let his emotions get the better of him.

Of course, all padawans have struggles that they have to face, but Dooku's are exacerbated by a couple of facts: Yoda is an absent Master when his responsibilities to the Council override his teaching, and Lene – who Dooku already knows is different, who Dooku originally wanted as his Master! – is the one who continues to mentor him when that happens.

Lene Kostana is not a perfect master. Of course, neither is Yoda, but Lene makes her deviation from the typical Jedi known and doesn't shy away from it. She's unapologetic in her search for Sith history, and while Dooku might find that fascinating, we as the readers can see where the faults lay, where that obsession begins to override everything and begin that rift in Dooku's faith and trust in the Jedi.

They suffer a traumatizing experience that unquestionably affects Dooku and makes Sifo-Dyas' visions worse, and what does Lene do? She asks Dooku to keep this a secret from the Council, because the Council already wants her to stop what she's doing. Then, when Sifo's visions do continue to get worse, she asks Dooku to hide it and places in him the fear that the Jedi will do something terrible to Sifo-Dyas, like institutionalize him. Lene tells him over and over again that the Jedi Council is not perfect either– tells him to be weary of them, that they''re afraid.

In contrast, when a situation comes up where the Council do find out about something else that's against the Code within the Jedi, Yoda tells Dooku that they would've helped had they been trusted and known, but Dooku doesn't believe him. He's even shocked and disillusioned by the Jedi taking legal matters into their own hands.

This isn't to say Lene's influence or Yoda's paragon status shaped Dooku into what he became. Everyone had a hand in that, Dooku himself most of all. Circumstances fell into place to create that path. Ultimately, it was Dooku's own hubris that became his downfall.

But, shit, having those two wildly different people to guide him sure as hell didn't make it any better.

#eza.txt #i wasn't trying to make a long post like this but i'm consumed by the grief of having read that fucking book #do i think dooku being not left under lene's care would've helped? maybe. probably not.#maybe because in remaining with lene he kept his attachment to sifo and maybe because that boy should not have been anywhere near sith shit #probably not because dooku's pride could and would find a way #idk idk i would fight lene kostana in a dennys parking lot but i'd also get down on one knee for her #book blogging #dooku jedi lost #count dooku #lene kostana #master yoda

64 notes · View notes

tyrantisterror · 6 months ago

Text

One more Columbo thing for today - there are many ways that Columbo is sort of the anti-Sherlock of fictional detectives (and I love Sherlock Holmes too, this is not Sherlock Holmes slander), but one that's standing out to me at the moment is his absolute delight in learning new things that seemingly have little to do with crime in general, but everything to do with the crime he's dealing with at the moment. Like, there's the wine episode where he learns SO much about how wine works, and while it's ultimately to catch the murderer, you can tell he's also genuinely delighted to learn about the subject, and from an expert no less (who just so happens to be a murderer, but that's beside the point). Or in the episode I'm watching now where he's trying to pin a magician for a murderer, and is constantly exposed to the world of stage magic as result to his very apparent delight.

It's an aspect that makes him such a compelling character in so many ways. First, it humanizes him both by showing how his inquisitive nature works outside the confines of crime work AND by allowing us to enjoy learning about a topic through him. Second, it shows his genius in being able to take seemingly irrelevant topics and find clues in them that are crucial to solving the case. Third, it provides a contrast between Columbo and the murderer of the week - because through Columbo we often see how the murderer in question had a lot of good shit going on in their life, and rather than dwell on what they already had, they threw it away in favor of some petty desire for revenge or wealth or what have you. It's an impressive thing to know a great deal about wine, or how to perform magic, or to be a gifted actress, and so on and so forth, but because the murderers are petty and short-sighted people, they waste those gifts on selfish pursuits or toss them aside in favor of far less interesting goals. Meanwhile Columbo, who lives humbly and pursues justice, ends up getting to experience all these big worlds, if only for a moment, and see great things, and is content with that.

98 notes · View notes

jessaerys · 7 months ago

Text

something i really like about tvc that i think the show sanded down is how anne rice weaves ambiguous relationships. i'm sure book vampires not fucking has something to do with it, but although louis calls claudia his lover, the role they fulfill for each other is much more amorphous.... louis clearly is madly in love with claudia the way a father is with his baby girl, a patriarchal love that has a sexual dimension baked into it, sublimated between book louis and claudia by this touch-charged bond that is ultimately very sensual but not sexual. when louis falls for armand, they agree claudia "can't give him what he wants." which is an interesting thing to say, if sex is not playing a role in any vampire relationship (not that that comes up in iwtv so really it's rather irrelevant). i'm only just beginning tvl but it's clear to me that lestat and nicki (neither of whom are yet vampires) fall in love, elope together, live together as a couple, talk about the breadth of their love for each other, and it's written in such a way that i can't imagine anyone reading those passages and being like 'yeah this is heterosexual' but it's not like anne rice ever outright tells you what they are or aren't. it's very refreshing. and although i'm all for having vampires fuck onscreen and making the gay subtext as textual as it can possibly be, i do kind of roll my eyes a bit every time they remind us the very familial, very platonic, very properly defined bond between show louis and claudia.... it's so sanitized lol. show!louis loves claudia very much but he's always on his gay drama shit. you never get the feeling that he is obsessed with her and his world revolves around her which is a bit of a disappointing choice in the unhealthy relationships show. i swear to god if lestat and gabrielle don't make out on screen i'm rioting

#iwtv #tvc

147 notes · View notes

crazysodomite · 4 months ago

Text

its insane how its always 'grow thicker skin' instead of 'stop being an incredibly cruel and hateful person'

its insane how normalized it is to harass and make fun of people for failing in an ultimately irrelevant way. like people being harassed and made fun of for being a bad singer or dancer. people will literally tear you to shreds and drive you to your breaking point for. being a bad singer or dancer or whatever. not being good at something and 'embarrassing' yourself publicly. if you sing bad at a karaoke or dance bad at a club or whatever you will get filmed and humiliated. same if you dare film yourself while not being perfectly good at something or not looking good enough. WHEN YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO ALL OF THAT. you don't need to make fun of someone not being good at something. you can simply ignore it and say nothing. idk. someone stumbles over their words or says something wrong and corrects themselves or some accident happens at a live event and instead of everyone simply moving along and forgetting the mishap it will be clipped and shared and made into the thing to make fun of for the week/month/whatever. and then other people also make fun of you for being afraid of public speaking when THIS is what you have to deal with now. why do you need to tell someone their art is bad or their singing is bad or they look bad or whatever. WHY????? why not keep that to yourself or even better not judge other people based on these things. when does this shit end? how do i opt out of ever being seen or heard by any other person on earth?

61 notes · View notes

zeephyre · 7 months ago

Text

CRITICAL ROLE CAMPAIGN 3 EP 95 SPOILERS

jesus christ these nerds are going to kill me.

before i get into my think piece abt... everything that transpired at the end of this episode, i would like to say this is one of the best c3 episodes.... one of my favourite episodes of all time. idk idk.

essek? smut? astrid? poly bells hells allegations?? i was already fucking sold dawg. i cannot goddamn believe that this four hour episode was... mostly... a shopping episode. i cant wait for the new art, regardless of the batshitery that happened that kinda throws my vibes off. i digress.

oh ashton greymoore i love you so much. i have been so worried abt them but honestly they're probably the lat person im concerned for currently. the grief was so compelling to watch and taliesin is a master of roleplaying as minus charisma but genuinely charismatic in his dorky awkward gruff and fumbling way. his rizz is actually just blindsiding us with earnest acts of service and comfort for his friends and i think thats so neat. im happy that they're all going to aeor with fcg intertwined throughout their outfits. its poetic and also maddeningly sweet.

(love the little callowmoore moments sprinkled through this episode... they're so real to me)

pumat was fun and i am so damn glad they got all the items matt offered cause they were all so fucking cool.

also??? sugar daddy dorian storm??? yeah i see you gay boy. dorym is so real guys we need to prepare for a confession and soon. idk i get the vibe liam is gonna drop it in the most heartbreaking way. or robbie. they're both sick in the head tbh.

loved the little queer inn that essek dragged them to and the calm before the storm was genuinely the cutest shit ever and im glad they were having fun despite everything. we got the essek and ashton dunamancy scene that i have been begging for but i cant even talk abt that right now.

before i address orym and laudna...

delilah briarwood. im gonna fucking kill you. best believe that.

theres been so much discourse on twitter abt who was right or wrong or this or that, but ultimately the point is: neither of them is RIGHT. they're both stricken with trauma and grief, and motivated by the love they have for a) the ones orym has lost and b) the one laudna is fighting not to lose. laudna WAS worried abt orym before delilah twisted that into paranoia, and orym didnt wield that fuckass blade bc he DOESNT feel sick touching it.

he says its not abt revenge but... god. orym. you want revenge. call it whatever you like but you've been angry for a while.

laudna says she KNEW the sword was cursed, but she was lying or in denial abt the fact that delilah is the one who coerced her to hold the blade in her hand.

if either of them had decided to talk to each other or the group as a whole then this could have -- most likely -- been avoided. orym decided to take the blade and shoulder the burden of what it meant and what it represented so they didnt have. laudna felt betrayed and hurt but instead of trusting orym she was manipulated back into that cunt's clutches.

i dont prescribe to trauma olympics, especially when laudna and orym never actually denied each others' trauma with otohan and that blade so i think its slightly irrelevant when discussing them both.

(i will say this... otohans blade is what killed laudna but delilah is the one who had her in a cage when she was dead. otohan murdered oryms family and there was absolutely nothing that could save them. i firmly believe THAT is what chetney meant, not that laudna hasnt suffered so we can all just... unclench a little idk)

in all the discourse, lets not forget who the real villains are -- evil milfs (delilah and otohan). delilah chose this moment to sew distrust in laudna towards orym for a reason. its like the spider queen and opal. she NEEDS laudna isolated and dependent, and she cant sink her teeth in completely if laudna has someone to fall back on.

imodna... jesus imodna breaks me every time. that entire scene on the roof while laudna looks so much like her abuser -- the woman who MURDERED her -- and having that visage fade as laudna proclaims her love for imogen. peak romance and tragedy.

it was still so upsetting hearing the echoes of delilah as laudna spoke tho. knowing her hold on laudna is getting stronger and laudna has no real faith that she will be able to fight against her. hearing her ask imogen if shes still fun scary and knowing that imogen cant tell the truth. this isnt fun anymore. laudna is in danger and imogen doesnt know how to fix it.

"I'll always love you, Laudna. I just don't know what to do with it."

its uh its not looking good for our sapphics fellas.

anyway, i do think that ashton was the emotional mvp of this episode, especially while shit was escalating. putting themself between orym and laudna, PROTECTING laudna despite knowing she attacked him, TRUSTING that she was actually telling the truth and guiding her to see the forest for the trees and apologize for an irrational choice made through a mixture of trauma, delusion and paranoia.

im... excited? for the next episode? not sure why we keep having really horrible inter-party conflict the day before going on a suicide mission but the hells are my problem babies and i have to accept that they're just little fucked up guys.

god. is it thursday yet??

(AND WHERE THE HELL IS SAM)

85 notes · View notes

gl1tt3r-gutz-and-r0b0tz-sl · 12 days ago

Note

Hey gutz, u should really give us more of that Elita au :D

Here u go :3

So, to begin with, my Elita au (that I'm now changing around) begins when Sentinel was a dumbass and procreated with a brothel harlot (she's irrelevant). The femme discovered the conception of a sparkling in her tank, (Reproduction and ‘pregnancies’ are a lot different in my au than what I think is normal for the fandom. I'll explain in another post maybe), and abandoned the capsule to one of the sacred shrines of the Primes, leading to it being discovered by Alpha Trion. Trion brought it back to the other Primes, and after a lot of testing and interrogation, forced Sentinel to admit that he was the sire and forced him to be apart in the sparkling’s life.

Solus Prime, the oracle of the group, knew of earth, its creatures, and its future, named the sparkling Ariel, meaning lion of God, due to the child's golden color and for the events in the foreseeable future in store for her.

Ariel was raised primarily by the Primes, idolizing her disinterested father, who nearly batted an optic at her. She grew to latch on to his personality, in the hope of making him proud, to gain his attention. Her arrogance enlarged the older she became, despite the wishes of the Primes.

Eventually, she was appointed the role of overseeing the progress of the new generation of Valkyries, (due to constant whining at Sentinel), and seemed to thrive from the adoration of the femmes in the ranks, much like her father with the people of their planet. Until one femme rose to influence within the other females as well. Starchaser, (pre-transition Starscream) constantly argued with Ariel until a massive fight broke out, resulting in extreme damage to both of them.

From embarrassment of his image ruined by his daughter, Sentinel banished Starchaser and her clique from Iacon to the outskirts of the planet, painting them all to be savages to the public as to save face and the last shards of dignity he possessed.

At this point, Ariel had not reached bodily maturity yet, being about 16 cycles old then, or 16,000,000 human years. As were the other femmes in the Valkyrie ranks.

Behind the scenes, Sentinel was making arrangements with the Quintessons and the Senator named Shockwave, creating a weapon that would ultimately give him immense power. They developed an artificial intelligence to power it that resulted in the creation of the Shockwave, who we know now, (who killed the senator, but that's another story.)

The Primes were sent out to stop a reported congregation of quintesson leaders, only for Sentinel to slaughter them all.

Ariel, as arrogant as she was, had followed after Sentinel and had witnessed it all happen. Sentinel lost his shit, cut her wings off, ripped out her tcog, damaged her memory banks, and dumped her body down one of the mine shafts.

Sentinel either banished those who still remembered or destroyed them. All but a few select groups and a femme in particular. A femme, who was a religious figure devoted to the Primes and Primus, practically bowed down to Sentinel and allowed him to make upgrades to her form into Airachnid.

Shockwave was presumably destroyed, but spread across comm links with his code, eventually making it to the now Starscream to build a new body for him.

Ariel was found by the now miner, Kup, when he was in his prime and was taken care of until she was stable enough until she too became a worker. Darkwing, old enough to remember Ariel's past, used her the most, subjugating her to cycles of abuse until Orion Pax and D-16 joined her sector.

She gained the name Elita-1 from a few of her fellow bots for her stoic attitude and leadership.

That's just her origin. I like to combine parts of the continuities I enjoy into my own AUs. So there's refs to many different things throughout this whole thing.

40 notes · View notes

firelxdykatara · 23 days ago

Text

One of these days I really do need to sit down and do a full Buffy rewatch. It's been a very long time since I've watched the whole show, beginning to end, without jumping to my favorite episodes and then losing track and trailing off. But part of the problem is that every time I think about doing this, I then think about how much time I will have to spend perceiving Xander Harris' existence (a character whom I loathe a little more each and every time I put on an episode of the show, especially when I do a full season rewatch), and I just feel so tired in my fucking bones about it. I don't know if I am strong enough!

Doesn't help that I just watched a youtube video on why Xander is the Worst with a capital W, which in the process reminded me of some of the things he did which I'd evidently blocked completely from my memory. You mean to tell me (as if I had not seen it with my own two eyes multiple times and each time managed, somehow, to purge it from my memory completely) that Xander fucking Harris is the reason Buffy tries to go after Riley (a character I also hate, but unlike Xander, he's only around for two seasons and is ultimately pretty irrelevant and easy to ignore), only to get there too late and watch him leave in a fucking helicopter, crying over him as if she'd lost something significant.

Instead of leaving it at her choosing to let go of a relationship that was going nowhere, and never had been, because she did not love him (seriously, just, compare the way Buffy behaves around him during their relationship with her behavior around Angel and Spike during their respective relationship arcs and tell me you don't see a diffeerence) and he very clearly did not understand her or her burden and had no intention of trying because being with the strongest woman in the world who didn't need him around all the time to be her big strong protector made him feel like less of a man... she has to stand there and get her heart broken, realizing what she lost just a little too late to do anything about it.

All because Xander had to give her his little fucked up 'you need to go after him and beg him to stay! he's perfect for you!' speech.

(There's something in there about Xander needing her to pick Riley and be with Riley because Riley is the normal everyman and it would be, symbolically, him triumphing over Angel after all if she chose the normal boring human dude over a grr face and angst, but it's been a little too long for me to write that essay, it'd have to come in the course of the full rewatch I keep meaning to start and not getting around to because of aforementioned anger about Xander Fucking Harris.)

This on top of shit like 'Xander has a witch help him do a love spell that backfires horribly and instead of facing any consequences from that he has Buffy thanking him for not sexually assaulting her while she was maigcally roofied by, and I cannot stress this enough, the spell he sought out a witch to perform (because he actually wanted to assault Cordelia in revenge for dumping him, but since he saves her from the situation he put her in she decides to give their relationship another chance)' (and in the very next season he cheats on Cordelia with Willow, who is wracked with guilt over what happened and spends multiple episodes trying to make things up to Oz and fix their relationship but Xander has to do none of this cause it's whatever to him I guess lmao), and also him lying about Angel which Buffy never figures out which sticks in my craw like a really bad rash... gods.

See I'm already writing an essay and I haven't done a full rewatch in years 😭😭😭 I love the show so much but I hate Xander SO much I truly suffer more than Jesus for my girl.

#buffy summers #xander salt #btvs #long post #some day... some day i will do a full rewatch and just vomit my thoughts all over tumblr in a more linear and comprehensive fashion #just not today #it's 4 am and i need to sleep

49 notes · View notes

i-guess-im-into-this-now · 8 months ago

Text

The Apothecary Diaries

S1E24 First Watch

Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.

If you want to start at the beginning:

Episode 1

My character/locations cheat sheet:

Master Shishou - Lady Loulan's father

Suirei: court lady who tried to assassinate Jinshi

Final episode of season one let's go!

Lakan: Fengxian. I wanted to be with the daughter we (she)* left behind. That was my only wish.

*There is a mismatch of the words being spoken in English dub and the English subtitles.

Oh does he think Fengxian is dead? Shit. Do I need to retract some of the mean shit I said about him last time?

We see Lakan sitting in the brothel staring at the dried rose that Maomao left for him, and the severed fingers that he treasures. He's thinking of seeing Maomao as a child

Lakan: It's natural for her to hate me, but I still wanted her close by.

So he did try to come and claim Maomao at some point. And why couldn't he? Did the ladies at Verdigris House prevent him from taking her? Did Luomen? Did Lakan ultimately decide he couldn't raise this little girl for some other reason?

Lakan: But that despicable man. I'll never forgive him for placing his hand on my daughter's shoulder three times during our match.

First of all, we are still seeing these creepy game-piece-headed nightmares in this episode. When will it end?

Second of all, I didn't notice that Jinshi was touching Maomao in the last episode. I'm fairly certain it was not shown, which to me indicates that it happened but Maomao didn't take notice of it. Is casual touch so commonplace that it doesn't warrant notice, or was she so focused on the game that it was irrelevant.

Lastly, WTH Lakan? Wasn't he the one cracking jokes about Jinshi and Maomao last episode? And, can no one in this show read the fricking room? Obviously, there is something happening between these two. I suppose Lakan has an excuse with his face blindness, but honestly I expected better from him.

Lakan: The question is how do I exact my revenge?

Well Lakan, I think you'll have to choose between your two goals of having Maomao close by and exacting revenge on Jinshi, because those two goals are in opposition. If Lakan ever wants to have a relationship with Maomao, he will have to leave Jinshi alone, because Maomao is not going to tolerate Lakan screwing with her man employer.

Granny comes to talk to Lakan about picking a courtesan. I had this all wrong apparently. I thought Maomao was intending for him to take care of her mother. It seems he can pick any courtesan that he wants.

Lakan approaches Meimei, who says she would be glad to accept, though her body language says otherwise. She opens the doors to the courtyard where Fengxian can be heard singing. Granny is not happy, but Lakan takes off running towards the sound.

Lakan: A withered flower still retains it's beauty. If that was suppose to be a message... it can't be!

So he didn't know Fengxian was alive then? Which means I can't blame him for not stepping forward to care for her in the past.

Lakan runs, frantic, to where the singing is coming from. He enters Fengxian's room. She's turned away looking out the window, but she's singing a song that Lakan can't forget. And he's stunned. Like seeing a ghost. He's staring at a woman he thought was dead. A single tear falls down his face.

Ah shit. That's some good drama right there.

Lakan picks Fengxian. He'll pay any amount. Granny can't believe this. She's not happy. It doesn't make sense. Did she forget about the history between these two?

And what was granny's role in all of this anyway? Did she give Lakan the impression that Fengxian was dead? Why would she do that? Couldn't granny have taken advantage of Lakan's interest in Fengxian and sold off the otherwise worthless Fengxian? My guess is that Fengxian hated Lakan so much at that point, that Granny thought she needed to protect her from going to him. She's not as avaricious as she would make herself seem.

Fengxian is spacing out. To get her attention, Lakan places some Go pieces in her hand. When she finally turns to him, he asks her to play a game with him, then full on ugly cries.

It's a beautiful moment. After all the problems that kept these two apart, they are finally reunited.

They play on the bed, without a board, but it seems that at least this part of Fengxian's mind remains, because she's making cleaver moves. Lakan reminisces about how they used to play and credits Fengxian for Maomao's strengths. Does she deserve that credit...

Meimei is overwhelmed. She cries. She blames Granny for keeping these two apart.

Lakan says he will buy Fengxian's contract, and when he sees her he sees her as she was in her prime. Beautiful, without the bandages or the disease, or the any of the changes that time has wrought. Does he see her this way because of his love for her, or because of his face blindness?

I wonder how much of Fengxian's mind remains. How much does she understand about what is happening? How much, if at all can she consent to this? Perhaps that is Granny's concern as well. For someone so out of their mind, and at the end of their life, I can't see what Lakan's presence can do to benefit Fengxian. Perhaps he improves her legacy, by giving her tale a nicer ending, but as far as her experience of it goes... he's too late.

This is all for Lakan's benefit. He is reunited with the woman he loved, he get's to finally buy out her contract like he wanted to so many years ago. He gets to erase some of his regrets, correct some of his miscalculations. It's a redemption for him, though a selfish one since he is the only one who benefits from it. Arguably, Verdigris House benefits as well, but he sure as hell ain't doing this for them. I could listen to an argument that he is doing this in part because he believe Maomao wants him to, but primarily, I think this is all for himself.

(I'm sorry Lakan fans. I will try harder on the rewatch to unearth some love for your dude)

Maomao is returning from the Verdigris House with ray-of-sunshine, Basan! They oversee Lady Loulan and her father conversing, and Basan calls the two of them snakes. Maomao, rightly, thinks that's a pretty dangerous thing to say. She doesn't want to lose her head just because Basan can't keep his nasty opinions to himself. And though Maomao always avoids gossip, I very much want to know what Basan knows about Lady Loulan and Master Shishou.

Maomao is dead tired, she has been working her ass off for the last month to grow those roses for the Garden Party, and now she just wants to sleep, but Basan informs her that Jinshi wants to see her first.

Jinshi: You must be tired. Maomao: Not really.

Why lie about this? My guess is that Maomao doesn't want anyone to fuss over her. Her wellbeing isn't important anyway, so why mention how she feels?

But Suiren does worry over Maomao, mentioning how much weight she's lost since the last time she saw her. Good. I'm glad to see this more obvious show of care for Maomao. I really just want everyone to love on this girl and take care of her.

Oh and she's "Xiaomao" to Suiren now too. ❤️She gets a nice big meal and is told to eat up.

Jinshi wants to know what the deal is with Maomao and her dad. Maomao explains that she doesn't hate Lakan.

Maomao: Afterall, I would not even be here if he weren't able to land his shot so to say. ... No courtesan bears a child if she doesn't want one.

And that makes a lot of sense actually. Maomao explains how women can prevent pregnancy, abort unwanted pregnancies, predict their fertility... it all points to the conclusion that Fengxian wanted to use Lakan to get pregnant.

Last episode we saw how Fengxian's plan all came crashing down by unforeseen circumstances. In her rage she cut off both her own finger as well as that of her infant.

Maomao explains to Jinshi about Lakan's face blindness. Jinshi, who has no issues with empathy, thinks that's unfortunate. Luomen was the one who told Maomao about Lakan's condition, and he also thinks the condition is quite sad. I wonder if Maomao knows that Luomen is Lakan's uncle? Maomao thinks that Lakan's obsession with her comes from the fact that she is one of the very few people whom Lakan can recognize.

Jinshi has kept a large vase of the blue roses that Maomao grew for him, because he's in love with her they were just going to be thrown out otherwise, and Maomao reflects while looking at them. She wonders if her meaning was clear enough when she sent the withered rose to Lakan.

She claims again that she doesn't hate Lakan. She's grateful to have been born and have been raised by Luomen. Jinshi pushes back, recalling her intense reaction when Lakan's name came up before.

Maomao: No offense, but you've got a lot to learn Master Jinshi.

You don't know me. Yet.

Maomao is also grateful that Lakan helped her interrupt the ceremony that would have killed Jinshi.

Maomao: It's like he had a feeling something bad was going to happen too.

Gee, almost like he knew somethin about it, or had figured it out already?

Maomao explains that Lakan doesn't need evidence to form his conclusions. He can pick up on subtleties that aren't even conscious, to use gut feelings that are rarely wrong. Maomao regrets that Lakan can't be depended on to actually act on these feelings. She believes she could have stopped Suirei from escaping if Lakan had gotten involved earlier and she would now have the secret resurrection drug that Suirei hinted at.

Maomao is jealous of Lakan. Luomen praises Lakan without caveats, something she can only wish for. Friends. I know you all think I'm too hard on Luomen, and it's probably true. And I feel compelled to say that I don't hate him or even dislike him. I know Maomao loves Luomen and he's done all he can for her. But she's still hurt by his lack of praise. It's had an effect on her emotional and psychological development.

Maomao warns Jinshi not to underestimate Lakan.

Gaoshun adds that no father wants to be disliked by their children. Okay Gaoshun, are you projecting here? Some dads are dicks, and absolutely deserve to be disliked whether they like it or not. Does Gaoshun worry that his children don't like him? Is it because Basan is his son? He really shouldn't take Basan's pissy attitude personally, he's like that with everyone!

Meimei sends a package with a beautiful shawl and news from the brothel. She hopes that Maomao will dance for her when she is bought out. Maomao actually picks up the shawl and spins around with a soft sigh. Does Maomao enjoy dancing? Something she picked up at the brothel perhaps?

Maomao seems inspired by the gift. She sits down in front of her makeup and a beautiful outfit that is on a rack in her room.

Cut to Jinshi watching the sunset. Is the sunset just a transition to a night scene or is it symbolic of closure in the story? We are coming to the end of not just this episode but this entire season, so a sunset is certainly appropriate.

Maomao stands atop the wall of the palace, dressed in her finery, looking out to the bright city beyond. We get a glimpse of Maomao's yet unhealed leg, her freckles, her lovely courtesan's dress, her beauty. An amalgamation of all the different parts that make up Maomao. She is here to dance, as Meimei suggested. Here on the same wall where two other women have stood earlier in the season with drastically different results.

The show revisits a recurring theme from throughout the season: for women who live in a cage there are only two ways out, freedom or death.

First we had seen the concubine who danced atop the wall as she waited for her lover to return and secure her release. Freedom.

Later we saw the servant girl who plunged into the moat to end her life. Death.

And now Maomao, who often walks the line between the two. Over the course of this season we've seen her struggle with both. When the servant girl died, we heard suicidal ideation from Maomao. We've also seen her ingest deadly poison. Always flirting with death, not sure if she should welcome it or fight against it.

And freedom. We've seen her at the crossroads of her life, with decisions ahead of her. Particularly, with whether she should remain in the Pleasure District or return to the Rear Palace. And Maomao struggled with freedom, caught by indecision.

In this moment, under the stars, she doesn't have to think. She's feeling. A deviation from her usual modus operandi. Perhaps with Meimei's letter she can let go of some of the turmoil from her past. Fengxian is with Lakan now, that knot that has finally been undone. Her sisters in Verdigris House are safe and happy for the moment, with hope for each of their futures. Maomao is in the Rear Palace to watch over Lady Gyokuyou and the ladies of the Jade Pavilion. And Jinshi is safe, after both an attempt on his life by Suirei and an attempt on his reputation from Lakan. So for the moment the people Maomao loves are safe, and she can stand on top of a wall and dance under the stars and just feel.

Of course the practical reason behind it is that she's practicing to make sure she remembers the steps. Meimei asked her to dance for her after all.

And Jinshi is here. It's the end of the final episode. I'd be disappointed if he didn't show up.

She's so surprised to see him, she nearly falls off the roof. Maomao... I know you are an anime girl but isn't that a little cliché...

No matter, it offers Jinshi a chance to catch her. He always will.

Jinshi: I got a report about another weird woman who was climbing up the outer wall.

It's a recurring problem in this palace.

Jinshi: You're always causing me trouble.

And you fricking love it. Shut up.

Maomao was recognized by the guard that saw her go up the wall, and the guard was wise enough to go directly to Jinshi. Of course Jinshi came himself.

Maomao explains that in the Pleasure District, that when a courtesan is bought out that it is customary for the others to dance in her honor. Ahh, so she's dancing for her mother then.

That Lakan has bought a courtesan is big news in the Pleasure District, and even in the palace. The number of lamps on the street, as well as the number of banquet days, indicate that a courtesan of the highest status was bought out, though the public never sees her. We get a glimpse of Fengxian in red. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe red is the color of wedding garments. I'm not sure if that's intentional here or not. But in any case, no one, not even me, can mistake Lakan's grand romantic gesture in treating Fengxian with so much respect.

Jinshi questions who Lakan may have bought out at the Verdigris House, and Maomao plays dumb, which is not fooling Jinshi.

Jinshi: Just who did the strategist buy out any way? Maomao: What? As if I should know. Jinshi: Yes. Without a doubt. Maomao: No matter how beautiful she is, she would never be a match for you. Jinshi: That didn't answer my question.

She doesn't want to say. And he's not going to push her. She tries to deflect, and he lets her. He once again is asking her to open up to him, and she is still saying not yet. But Jinshi never gives up on Maomao. He will simply let her have her secrets for now. But he's so steadfast in his pursuit of Maomao that the audience can have no doubt that he will continue to try.

Fengxian won't last long. She's in the end stages of her disease. Maomao reflects on how her birth affected the reputation of Verdigris House. No one spoke to Maomao about who her mother was, because Grams tried to protect that information, but Maomao discovered it anyway. Prideful Fengxian couldn't recover from the shame of her failed plans, her loss of reputation, and she always chased Maomao away. Maomao claims that none of it matters to her. She's just happy being Luomen's daughter. I don't believe she's so unaffected, but that's an issue for a future season!

Maomao's macabre fun facts are not in fact fun for Jinshi, as she explains that you can cut off the tip of your finger and that it will grow back. I'm glad she didn't lose this part of her that was taken by one parent to curse the other. Instead it grew back. She may be scarred from the experience but she is whole. A metaphor.

When Maomao collapses, Jinshi demands to know what's wrong to which Maomao rambles off a list of horrifying truths. Maomao's leg wound won't heal. It has opened up again. She didn't notice it because she has a high pain tolerance. Probably due to all the drugs she's taken. No problem, she can just plop down and stitch it right back up.

NO. That's not happening. Jinshi has fucking had it with this girl. He then picks her up and leaps. off. the. wall. It was a little hot. I'm so used to Jinshi simping and being generally uncool, that I get caught off guard when he's actually being hot. Maomao does too. Especially since he switches to a princess carry.

Maomao gets deadly serious for a moment. She stares Jinshi in the eyes, touches his face and leans in. Jinshi is thinking this is it. It's finally happening. Only for Maomao to ask if she can now have the ox bezoar. Is she trying to provoke him? She gets headbutted for that one. I'm typically against physical violence, but I have to say, this seems justified. Maomao is happy about it too, because now she knows she's dealing with the real Jinshi.

Lady Gyokuyou pays for premium so she gets front row access to her favorite romcom. Jinshi has come to see Maomao. This final interaction is just basically this whole show in a nutshell. The ladies of the Jade Pavilion are teasing Maomao, because they love her, and they know her boyfriend totally platonic employer is watching. Jinshi says something interesting has come up and he thought of Maomao, which of course peaks her curiosity. We don't get to hear what Jinshi wanted to ask of Maomao, but we get the impression that things will carry on much as they have been until we can see these beloved characters again.

The storytellers promise us a second season. So yay!

Thanks to the like 10 people who enjoyed this blog. It was very fun for me to write. Your comments, likes and reblogs gave me life.

I loved getting to know these characters and trying to get inside their heads. The characters are so well written, and the plot is so big and juicy. There seems to be no end to the layers of the story. It's truly fantastic.

The Apothecary Diaries is a new favorite of mine now, and since I've made it to the end of this season, I'm looking forward to not having to scroll past JinMao content on my feed to avoid spoilers!

I haven't decided if I should hold out for more of the show and continue to watch it with fresh eyes like I did for this blog, or if I should just jump into the light novels or manga. Does anyone know, are both of those things complete with a good English translation?

This won't be my last content for The Apothecary Diaries. I'm known to compulsively shit post in the fandoms I follow, so I'm sure I won't be able to resist doing that. But, perhaps once I've had some time to think on this I will have some more meta analysis to offer. I do plan to rewatch the entire season. Though I won't reblog to this degree, I may jump back in the comments on some of these blogs and add some new insights.

If you like this kind of thing and want me to do it for another one of your favorites let me know! My recommendations box is ever open. I love any kind of engaging story, in any format, and am happy (unable to stop myself) to post about it on the internet! Just tell me what you love and where to start.

Until then I guess I'm into this now.

To start at the beginning:

Episode 1

#apothecary diaries #the apothecary diaries #maomao #jinshi #jinmao #jinshi x maomao

84 notes · View notes