#i do however appreciate that it was at least there

[nightwingsgypsyrep]

👆👆👆

This!

There’s been so many points in my life where I’ve been met with the most brain-dead comments because people presume rather than ask.

I made this blog because I thought I had some insight which people would appreciate (it was literally a joke about Dick’s gf being named Kori) and it just spiralled from there because people were interested.

And the thing is, I’m never going to be able to provide all of the answers. I’m a travelling girl from the fairground in England, and honestly, a lot of the more ‘Romani-specific’ parts of the culture fell out of popularity like fifty years ago, so whilst I might be able to answer questions about travelling, or the circus, and the effects being GRT has had on my life, and I can speak (Anglo)Romani, not only do I want to hear from other GRT people regarding their views of Dick as a character, really we need them!

But we can only really use our insight if people ask. Idk what gorgers/gorjas/gadjas (however you want to spell it) know or think. So many times I’ll be with my friends who aren’t GRT and they’ll say something which they think is common knowledge and I’m like ??. So yes, please ask. One person’s experiences may not be universal, but I’m never going to lie, so if you choose to use the info we can provide, at least Dick’s characterisation will be more accurate than if you hadn’t asked the question.

Anyway hope that makes sense and thank you so much for adding to this post! This blogs been about for almost a month now and it’s the first time I’ve actually encountered another one of us in the wilds of tumblr ❤️

One of the things which really annoys me about Dick Grayson’s characterisation by both DC and the fandom is how they treat his being Romani (I say this as a gypsy from the circus myself) also before people cancel me for saying gypsy - I am not American and it’s not a slur where I am from. I am a gypsy myself so please don’t freak out about my using this term which feels comfortable and accurate to me

I know this is a common complaint, but being a gypsy or Romani is such a niche ethnic identity, and so often I see people treat it almost like a nationality. For example, the idea that Dick Grayson grew up not knowing English is so bizarre to me… of course he knew English, he may be Romani and speak it, but he is also American. The shopkeeper who he is buying food from doesn’t speak Romani, nor do the local authorities whose permission we need to even put on a circus/fair, so it makes sense that he’d speak English to them. He works in the circus: his family’s livelihood depended on his being able to draw a crowd - if he can’t interact with the people he’s taking the money from, how does he expect to make it in what is essentially a customer service job (I speak from experience here). Also, historically, by the late 18th century, the vast majority of Romani-speaking gypsies also spoke another language as a first language, and by the 20th century, I could argue that this is about 99.99999% of us, if not all.

The other thing I often see is how Dick Grayson is portrayed as being the Bristol-raised kid who doesn’t understand Jason’s Crime Alley upbringing. And yeah, whilst Dick lived with Bruce from a young age, and might (even based on his personality) have a better chance of mixing with the rich kids, let’s not act like Dick didn’t know struggle as a kid. Even if his parents were fairly comfortable economically, he spent at least half the year living in a trailer/vardo, which people associate with being working class. All gypsy kids are taught to fight from a very young age because whenever we pull on somewhere to open (aka put on the show), we expect a hell of a lot of racism from the locals, which often included getting jumped, often by multiple older gadja/gorja/non-gypsy children - and hell, even adults! As well as knowing how to defend ourselves, this also leads to a lot us developing a bit of a defence mechanism wherein we can talk ourselves out of a situation, or endear ourselves to people quickly in the first place so we don’t get fighting (keeping us safe, and keeping us in the good graces of the locals so we can continue earning a living there) - perhaps this could be explored as part of the reasoning behind the famous Dick Grayson charm? Anyway, all this to say, Dick would fully understand what it’s like to be the poor outsider who has to fight at every corner just to exist, and justifying his existence to others who view themselves as his ‘superiors’.

My final complaint is a small one: every single gypsy I know grows up absolutely BELTING Cher’s ‘Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves’ and the fact that I’ve not seen Dick pouring his heart into that song, screaming the words ‘I was born in the wagon of a travelling show’ is honestly a hate crime which must be fixed immediately.

[cheshireliam]

Kagari Amagase 1st Birthday Campaign: Story

His POV Story

"I Want The Princess"

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

I stood on the battlefield, washed off the blood and headed to my secondary residence.  

…

The instant I stepped inside, I collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. 

Like always, I felt lightheaded and couldn’t think straight.

However, the book laying on my desk caught my eye.

The cover of the book was decorated with a rose motif, a flower rare in Kogyoku. 

I crawled closer to the book and reached for it.

When I opened the cover, a piece of paper with text written in the Princess’ penmanship fell out and landed on my face.  

Those were various detailed annotations about the book’s contents. 

A pure desire to enjoy the book came right to me.

(My birthday…)

(It was my first time.)

…

Nobleman: Happy birthday, Prince Kagari. I wish you a joyful and prosperous year ahead.

Kagari: Oh. 

This year too, there was a snaking line of people outside the castle for my birthday. 

I received countless birthday greetings, but I didn't know the appropriate response to them. 

(Everything is different from when I was still part of the royal family. There are so many things I don’t understand.)

Back in the day, my birthdays were simple, ending with a congratulatory speech from the King. 

My older brother had countless people celebrating his birthday and even had a banquet held for him, but that wasn't the case for me — his younger brother. 

No one ever doubted it because the difference between me and my older brother, who possessed remarkable capabilities that made everyone around have high expectations for him, was like night and day.

(But… thinking about it now, I wish I’d at least gotten one dorayaki.)

(... Hm?)

At the very end of the line — a familiar figure was standing under a cherry blossom tree in the distance. 

My body moved on its own before I even realised it. 

Kagari: You’re wide open, Princess. 

The Princess reacted exaggeratingly in surprise. I put a hand over her mouth and dragged her into the shade.

Emma: Mmph…! 

I pinned her struggling body against a tree trunk before closing the distance between us to avoid drawing the attention of the people nearby.

(She’s still as weak as ever, like she could die any moment.) 

Kagari: Do you promise to behave?

I took my hand off her mouth and she nodded.

Emma: … What are you doing here, Prince Kagari?

Kagari: I saw you.

Emma: So you came to see me?

Kagari: You called me here.

(Maybe.)

Her fidgeting near the line must mean she wants to see me, right? 

Kagari: If you were planning to join the line, don’t bother.

Kagari: It won’t end until nightfall.

Emma: That long…?

Kagari: There’s a banquet tonight. That’ll go on till dawn. 

Kagari: So, why are you here?

The Princess’ eyes darted around awkwardly.

It was suspicious behaviour, she looked very uneasy, as though she was hiding something she wanted to say.

Emma: … Um… there were so many people gathered, and I got curious…

She hid the bag she was holding behind her back.

Given today’s occasion and the Princess’ personality, the answer is obvious.

(She’s hesitant to celebrate my birthday.) 

(Is this really something to agonise about?)

(... I don’t really get it, but this is fine.)

(It doesn't matter whether I receive birthday greetings or not…)

(But spending my birthday with her might actually be more enjoyable.)

(I’ll take her along for the customary inspection.)

…

Dressed as one of the Yasha’s subordinates, the Princess pointed an imitation sword at the assassins. 

I couldn’t help but be secretly impressed as I watched from atop a roof.

(She’s gotten more used to things compared to when she first arrived in Kogyoku.)

(Even though it’s only an imitation sword, she’s learnt how to point one at others.) 

(With that amount of guts, she’ll have no problem surviving in Kogyoku. Full marks for her.) 

(Also… the clothes my subordinates wear really suit her.)

I stared absentmindedly at her exposed nape, where her hair was tied up in a single knot.)

(I remember Matias saying something about this before.)

(“The nape, usually hidden by her hair, is the most valuable”.)

At that time, I thought he was purely spouting weird nonsense, but I understand now. 

(It’s so slender, I feel like biting it— wait, what? Why do I want to bite it?

(No idea. I’ll ask Matias next time.)

(If this is something that requires some brains, I’ll ask Azel.) 

While I was lost in thought, the assassin placed their hands on the hilt of their swords. 

Before they could unsheath their swords ever so slightly, I jumped down and swung my sheathed sword. 

The impact was solid, and all the assassins’ eyes rolled back as they fell unconscious. 

Had I drawn my sword, their heads would have flown off their shoulders. 

(Weak.)

Kagari: That was easy. I hoped they’d at least be good enough for me to draw my sword.

As I turned around feeling disappointed, the Princess was in the midst of sheathing the imitation sword.

Before the blade fully went into the scabbard, I moved closer and held her slender hand. 

Kagari: Princess, you need to adjust the angle of your stance. 

Emma: I see…

Kagari: Also, never hunch your back on a battlefield.

Emma: I never noticed I was doing that.

Kagari: Exactly. Even though you’re dressed like one of my subordinates, you’re weak.

Emma: … I’m sorry. 

Cat: Nyaa… 

While I was guiding her for future use, I heard a meowing sound coming from next to my feet. 

It was the stray cat I had an undesirable, yet inseparable relationship with. 

Kagari: Ah, give me a minute.

I folded a piece of paper with instructions on how to deal with the men lying on the ground and handed it to the cat. 

It gave a delighted meow as it took the paper in its mouth and scurried off. 

Emma: What was that…?

Kagari: Calico No.1.

Kagari: It often roams the streets. So if you ever need to contact me, you can count on it for that.

Emma: So instead of a carrier pigeon… you have a carrier cat.

Kagari: Yeah. 

(This guy’s more temperamental than a pigeon, though.)

Emma: About the piece of paper you gave it earlier on…

Kagari: I summoned my subordinates. It’s a hassle to clean up this mess. 

I stood up and looked down at the amateurish assassins lying on the ground. 

The Princess looked eager for an explanation, almost to the point she was getting restless. 

(They’re no more significant than random passersby, but…) 

Kagari: This is a “gift” I receive on my birthday every year, amidst the celebrations. 

Kagari: I was looking forward to a more challenging opponent, but I got disappointed this year too.

The Princess frowned at my blunt response.

(Is she angry?)

(Weird. It doesn't even concern her.)

(Maybe this is something “strange” to the Princess?)

(When you come from a different place, what’s common and what’s not changes. That's interesting.)

(What’s common knowledge to me, might not be so common to her.) 

…

Night fell as usual, and it was time for the banquet.

Savouring the enjoyable time we had together, I parted ways with the Princess. 

Soon after, the ever so hardworking Calico No.1 came with a letter in its mouth.

…

I went to the cherry blossom tree where I sometimes admired the flowers with the Princess, and the sender of that letter looked clearly pleased to see me. 

Feeling comforted by her reaction, I sat down next to her under the tree. 

Emma: Has the banquet ended?

Kagari: Not yet.

Emma: You managed to slip away.

Kagari: Your summon is more important.

Cat: Nyaa 

(Is it asking for a reward?)

I gently petted the cat that had been nuzzling itself against my leg and it left like it was never there. 

Heartless cat. 

(Right now, the Princess is more important than Calico No.1.)

Kagari: You changed your clothes.

Emma: Yes, I wanted to meet you as my usual self.

Emma: If I’m going to celebrate your birthday, I want to do it as the version of me you met in Kogyoku.  

Kagari: … 

(Is this what she meant when she said she “wanted some of my time after the banquet”?)

Emma: Happy birthday, Prince Kagari.

The Princess, who had been hesitant about wishing me a happy birthday this morning, presented me with a cherry blossom-patterned package.

I accepted the package, unwrapped it, and took out what was insides

Kagari: A book? 

Emma: It’s a storybook from Rhodolite. 

(It’s my first time receiving a book as a birthday gift. I’m feeling uneasy.)

Kogyoku’s Yasha was thought by others to only wield swords and never read books. 

But in truth, I don’t dislike reading. 

Emma: You’ve taught me many wonderful things about Kogyoku. 

Emma: It’s thrilling to discover new things about the world that I’ve never known before, so…

Emma: I chose this book because I want you to experience that thrill too. It’s one of my favourites. 

Emma: … And, if possible, I thought it might help convey Rhodolite’s charm too…

Kagari: The book is set in Rhodolite?

Emma: That’s right! It’s a collection of heartwarming short stories.

Emma: It’s the perfect remedy for when you’re feeling worn out.

Kagari: I almost forgot you’re a book merchant.

(I thought it’s just like any other book, but this one’s carefully chosen by the Princess.)

Knowing the amount of thought put into the gift made it much more significant. 

Kagari: You’re probably the only one who’d think of giving me a book. 

(I’ve decided. I’ll make this a family heirloom.)

I stared at the cover, flipped through the pages, and briefly scanned through the text. 

It doesn't seem like I’ll be running into any trouble if I end up with too much free time for a while. 

Emma: … I’m relieved I could properly celebrate your birthday. 

I looked up when she suddenly spoke.

The Princess heaved a sigh of relief, like she had been holding her breath for a while. 

Kagari: You’re overthinking it. I’d never find it bothersome to be celebrated. 

Emma: But your detached reaction to all the greetings and gifts made me rather worried that you would. 

Kagari: … Did I come off that way?

(I didn't realise. No wonder the Princess hesitated.)

I closed the book and lowered my gaze. 

Kagari: It’s not that I dislike being celebrated, or that I’m uninterested in birthdays.

Kagari: It’s just… I still don’t know what I should be feeling when I’m being celebrated.

Kagari: It’s been a recent problem for me.

Never had I ever imagined that not having extravagant birthday celebrations like my older brother did would someday become a source of my troubles. 

(Receiving a celebration particularly from her is complicated.)

(... I feel restless, and it’s hard to even look her in the eyes.)

(Is this the correct feeling I should be getting? What kind of emotion is this?) 

As I sat there in silence, full of uncertainty, a gentle breeze blew. 

Petals from the cherry blossom tree that was in bloom all year round danced in the air and fluttered down. 

The Princess, whose attention had been constantly focused on the Yasha until now, suddenly turned her gaze toward the cherry blossoms.

Emma: It’s beautiful. 

(…)

The restlessness turned into something murky. 

(... Not going to look at me anymore?)

(You’re so heartless.)

I grabbed a fistful of the Princess’ skirt. 

It was a spontaneous gesture. 

Emma: Prince Kagari?

(Why must I lose her to some cherry blossoms?)

Kagari: You’ve been thinking about my birthday all day long, and now you’re completely mesmerised by cherry blossoms? 

Emma: Of course I’m still thinking about your birthday. 

Emma: I just think that it looks as though the cherry blossoms are celebrating too… 

Kagari: Just you celebrating it is enough. Don’t look away. 

For some reason, the Princess reacted to my vent with a gentle smile. 

Kagari: … What are you smiling about?

Emma: It’s nothing. 

(I’m curious… but this doesn't feel so bad.)

I felt my facial expression soften, and the Princess turned her gaze to the cherry blossoms once again.

My grip on the fabric of her skirt tightened. 

Emma: … I planned to only give you your gift, but we ended up talking for quite a while.

Emma: Shouldn’t you return to the banquet soon, Prince Kagari?

Kagari: …

(I don't want to.)

(I want her to celebrate my birthday, more than the banquet.) 

(But somehow, even though they’re all celebrations, something feels different.)

I retraced the day’s events, recalling each and every one of the Princess’ words and trying to pinpoint the cause of my restlessness. 

(If there is a difference… it’d be that everyone else’s celebrations are nothing more than mere formalities.)

(You could say they have ulterior motives, wanting to gain the Yasha’s favour and protection.)

(But the Princess’ celebration doesn't have any of that.) 

(... This is the first time I’m receiving a sincere birthday celebration.)

Kagari: Princess, don’t you want to keep the Yasha all to yourself?

Emma: I think I’ve already monopolised you enough. 

(It’s not enough.)

(... I want more)

Kagari: … Stay here.

Emma: Then… I’ll take you up on the offer.

Emma: Can I continue celebrating your birthday for a little while longer? 

Kagari: Yeah. 

Hearing the word “celebrate” from her lips made me restless again. 

(Could this restless feeling be… bashfulness?) 

(... Am I actually feeling bashful because she’s celebrating my birthday?) 

(That’s a first. I learned something new today.)

Kagari: If you want to celebrate, do it. I can’t guarantee I’ll make it to my next birthday.

Emma: … I don't like such jokes.

Kagari: I’m not joking. But rest assured that I want you to celebrate my birthday over and over again.

(It’d be nice if there’ll be a “next”.) 

(... I want to feel bashful again. I want to experience this feeling even more.)

(I want to get to know this restlessness better.)

(When I’m with her… my emotions come alive.)

…

When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by darkness.

(... Did I fall asleep?)

As I regained consciousness, I realised I was holding a book in my arms.

I heard a faint sound of gentle breathing coming from next to me.

I shifted my gaze in its direction to see Calico No.1 laying there with its belly facing up, looking completely defenseless.

(It's getting better at hiding its presence and becoming more shameless too.)

(Who exactly does that remind me of?)

Careful not to wake Calico No.1, I picked up the book and opened it while laying down. 

Even though I had already finished it and remembered its contents, my eyes didn't stop following the text.

The stories were set in a peaceful country called Rhodolite. 

The Princess, born in that kind of country, was honest, straightforward, and her existence dazzling bright. 

(That makes sense.)

On my birthday — when I received those empty, soulless birthday greetings from the crowd, the Princess looked like she couldn't stand it any longer and took my hand.

Under the cherry blossom tree, her smile was like a flower in full bloom and she celebrated the Yasha’s birthday genuinely from the heart.

(She has a beautiful heart.)

(And yet, she unhesitatingly held these hands of mine that have been stained with blood of the people I’ve killed and even gave me her blessings.)

(Ah…)

(... I want the Princess).

(But I don't understand why I want her.)

(Will I understand it if she becomes mine, just like this book?)

I sat up and closed the book.

Although the battle was over and my body was supposedly back to its usual state, my head started feeling fuzzy again. 

That sensation worsened when an image of the Princess’ face emerged in my mind. 

Despite knowing my symptoms were worsening, my hands refused to let go of the book. 

I couldn’t peel my eyes off it.

It was as though I was clinging onto it.

(I want to see her.)

(I want to see the Princess.)

[tragedy-of-commons]

HI GWENNIE !!! here for the event hehe

may i req honeysuckle + ebullience + serendipity for dan heng? 🤍

HONEYSUCKLE:  they’re making it a point to show you just how much you mean to them.

ebullience  —  a boiling or bubbling up; (figuratively) the quality of enthusiastic or lively expression of feelings and thoughts.

serendipity  —  a combination of events which have come together by chance to make a surprisingly good or wonderful outcome.

modern au but it's not obvious, fluff and mush, dan heng is whipped, so is reader, kinda fits the dahlia prompt better but shhh

“It’s fine. We don’t have to go.”

In response to Dan Heng’s reassurance, you snap your neck around to face him like an affronted owl. By the expression quickly making its way onto his countenance, he seems to regret ever speaking up, his brow pinched together in contrition and his fingers twitching as if to physically take the statement back.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” you scoff, voice light. “You went out of your way to make dinner reservations on the most romantic day of the year, months in advance. Cancelling is out of the question. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You must remain resolute. Today is Valentine’s Day, and after all of the cursory couple activities that you’ve dragged your boyfriend to, you’re more than worn out. Normally you’d be bouncing off the wall in excitement at the prospect of dinner - food is the best - and you rarely go out with Dan Heng as it is! However, it’s apparent you’ve already expended all of your daily stamina.

You can’t shirk his thoughtful gesture just because you’re tired! And you’ve told him as much, which is why you’re both here, lingering near the front door in reluctant date attire.

“It’s not entirely about me,” he tells you, watching with crystalline discontent as you stalk over to him. You fidget with the silver necklace resting over his shirt while he continues. “And to be transparent, I’m not exactly looking forward to it either. I made the reservations because I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“I do appreciate it! I love restaurants…” you lament. Dan Heng sighs, breath ghosting your face.

He’s really close now, and it makes you feel even worse about not feeling your best. You decide to cup his cheek in your palm while he leans into your touch, even if he’s normally embarrassed to accept such things from you. At least you’re in private. 

“But you’re exhausted. I’m exhausted. These circumstances are less than ideal.”

His reasoning is sound, and you groan, perching your chin on his shoulder, melding chest to chest with him. However, you make no move to embrace your partner, instead letting your arms hang loosely by your sides like a dejected ragdoll.

“Yeah… but I don’t want to waste the night.”

“Maybe we don’t have to.”

You blink, pulling back to level with him. “I’m listening.”

And to your surprise, Dan Heng leads you outside anyway. If you’re not going to the restaurant, then pray tell, where the hell are you going? The streets aren’t pitch black just yet - you have the periodic lampposts and sinking sun to thank for that - but you’re still perplexed. You wave to one of your neighbors as you pass his house, a very friendly old man that, earlier in the day, was giving out free bouquets to any passing couples. You remember shoving a bundle of tulips in Dan Heng’s arms while he held back an earth-shattering sneeze.

Man, you are tired. You’re not even energized enough to break from your boyfriend’s side and start up a thirty minute chat about life as humanity knows it with the neighbor! What is the world coming to? Terrible, awful, no good.

“Aren’t you going to tell me where we’re going?” you yawn.

“...No.”

“Really? ‘Cause you sound dangerously close to cracking.”

He pulls a face at you. You’ve learned that Dan Heng is good at keeping secrets - especially his own - but he’s a horrible liar. One time he was attempting to fib to you about what his plans were for your shared anniversary (he had none, he’d claimed), but his ears were tipped an endearing, entirely telling red. 

Also, it’s like his tongue sometimes fistfights his brain. The man you’re in love with doesn’t stutter or trip over his words very often, but he can get hesitant and lock up for an indefinite period of time. So you’re really excited - despite your low battery - that he’s going to surprise you. You know he can do it! 

Dan Heng doesn’t have to reply. The conversation has lulled into a comfortable silence, anyway; the kind of quiet that really brings out the love you harbor for one another. If you were side-by-side with anyone else, walking to some unknown destination, you’d force a cheerful smile on your face, and perhaps a bizarre non sequitur out of your mouth, desperate to keep up the banter. 

But with him, you don’t have to. You can be tired all you want without fear of being pestered by well-meaning questions or concerned glances. And Dan Heng, in turn, can say everything without saying anything.

It’s truly bliss, this life. 

“We’re almost there,” he remarks, taking an abrupt right turn. You only stop for a moment before doubling your pace to catch up, the brisk temperature coaxing you forward. “Sorry for the walk.” 

You snort. “If you’re sorry, then I must be doing something wrong.”

You can’t say you’ve ever been this way. Groceries, work, leisure - it’s all reached by taking a left, not this fantastical right. But you’re not complaining! It’s nice out, golden hour is dwindling, and all of the possible yet abundant circumstances that’ve led you to this very moment drift by in your mind like shooting stars. 

Dan Heng halts in front of what seems to be a small park. It’s contained by a chain link fence, boasts a couple of tall oaks, and is connected by a bunch of sprawling concrete paths. 

You deflate.

He turns to gaze at you, taking note of your indifference. The sky is now briefly turning a magenta color in anticipation of total sunset, bathing him in a mild warmth that will soon give way to cool in a matter of minutes. It wholly suits him.

“Is something wrong? We can go home.”

“No, idiot,” you laugh, limply shooting your arms out and gesturing to the grassy landscape, “It’s perfect. I didn’t even know we had a park in this neighborhood. How long have you been keeping this place a secret?”

Dan Heng lets you link pinkies with him as you begin the (not so perilous) journey through the green. It’s nothing like how dinner would’ve been - no clinking glasses or endless noise. It’s so peaceful. 

“Not a secret,” he sighs, “but on one of my walks I discovered the area. I was waiting for an opportunity to share it with you, believe it or not. Tonight fits the bill well.”

You hum in response, falling back into silence. The cue is understood and honored without a beat skipped, as it often goes. For the next hour or so, you stroll through the park with your other half. Nighttime descends and quickly shadows all the tempting wildflowers you’d normally pluck from the ground and take home, but you find yourself content.

I love you, your hand says as it engulfs Dan Heng’s.

I love you too, his replies ardently as it squeezes back.

event post here. network members only!

[mayxxday]

Well-Conditioned : Katsuki Bakugou

Katsuki was acting oddly. And that was underwhelming of a statement to put it because he was all over the place. Fidgeting, crackling, and irritation were through the roof. Katsuki was barely in his seat even. Bouncing his leg, he couldn't help but feel like he did something wrong. Why else, wouldn’t you kiss his cheek as you always did whenever he did something for you?

Katsuki sucked ass when it came to talking love. But it wasn’t that he didn’t show it through his actions. Softened gaze dripping honey each time he wiped his sweat palms on his pants before cupping your cheeks. There was no way he’s gonna get the sticky vile flammable on you—his precious. 

Katsuki showed his love when he snatched your backpack off your shoulder, throwing it over his while he dragged you out of the class. He earned himself a sickly sweet kiss on his cheek, showing that you acknowledged his actions and their meaning. It wasn’t an ‘I love you,’ but that’s what anyone but them would say.

Katsuki wasn’t big on grand gestures of love either but he made do with little trinkets and stickers he bought because ‘he thought of you’. And you like it that way. Or at least that’s what he inferred when you would jump into his arms, kissing all over his face.

He surely couldn’t write about his love, he tried that crap and ended up charring his desk black. But he packed you bentos whenever you were to travel back home from the UA dorms. He made sure to put in extra effort and make the fanciest dishes in case your parents were to see the food and judge him off it ( a good potential husband?). Before you would have seen the inside contents or noticed a lacking love note he should have written to you, he would have his arm tugged down, his precious on her toes, to press a big smooch to his cheek. 

Katsuki was more than gentlemanly for you, he was your boyfriend, so, of course, he tied your shoelaces for you (why do you still use the bunny ears method, is his excuse), draping his jacket over your legs whenever you wore skirts, all because he knew you liked to manspread worse than him. He carries pads and hair ties in his bag, but which boyfriend wouldn’t? He holds your heels with a grumpy frown, holding your waist to ensure you didn’t trip in his shoes because you thought you could handle being in heels all day. 

Katsuki did all this not for praise or compliment. No, he wasn’t obligated to do these either, but he did it because that’s what a good boyfriend would do for you. That however didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate or relish the kisses he received each time he showed his love through his actions. 

So what was different today? When he draped his jacket around your shoulder today, why didn’t he get his kiss? And he knows you noticed it, turning your head to him offer your sweet smile, before returning back to your conversation with Mina. 

THAT’S IT? Katsuki was confused, he had even leaned in to receive his daily dose of kiss, instead of awkwardly standing back straight noticing his instinct. Was he desperate? No. Was he needy? Maybe. Why can’t a man get his share of kisses?

Staring at you annoyed he waited for you to notice. 

BUT YOU NEVER DID.  

He even huffed thrice, each time only receiving a distracted rub on his thigh while you gossiped with Mina. Gosh, he wanted to explode her right now. When he finally got over his petty subtle hints he just grabbed your face to face him. 

"How long will it take ya' to kiss me, brat?” 

Katsuki was easy though. Maybe not for everyone, but his little doll had him wrapped around her finger. When you just smiled innocently at him, pecking his lips without a question. The beast was finally appeased. 

“Thank you for the jacket, ‘Suki”

Goddamn, this woman really had conditioned him to seek her kisses without a clue in her pretty head.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated >.<

please lemme know if you wanna be added to my taglist. my inbox is open for any requests too if you guys might have any.

[justcallmecj]

You have no clue how much I love and appreciate this analysis. I am writing a Touchstarved fanfic that involves heavily this Allmother (in a way). However, when I first starting coming up with this fic, the All Mother, or at least her purpose and role, were pulled over from another fic of mine that I had made a long while ago. I didn't even realize that this person existed until I went back to play the game through the Unnamed route for my oc and heard the traveler talk about her, and I saw it as an odd/funny coincidence. And while I could play it off as planned, it certainly wasn't.

I have been struggling to write the All Mother (in the way I wrote her to be for this specific fic), because while I am rounding her out, she can still feel sometimes flat. I also have constantly wondered how I was going to make her fit into the Touchstarved setting, especially with the existence of characters like Kuras. So, your analysis here, no matter if the Allmother becomes something in the game or not, really gives me some inspiration for what I can do with her. I always intended her to be this caring, warm, motherly and guiding figure for my oc, so your examples of other godly figures irl like this was not only fascinating but also thought inducing for me.

If you are okay with it, I'd love to use some of these ideas, loosely that is, for my version of her (if not, you can totally say so, no biggie)

The Allmother: An Entirely too Long Analysis

In the whole demo, we only get one completely missable set of dialogue on this potential deity.

But that is more than enough information for me to start speculating. The two important parts to break down here are her supposed connection to the hearth and thus fire, and her title of Allmother.

A hearth is the part of a house where fires are made and kept (a fireplace is the modern day equivalent). Traditionally, before the advent of stoves and furnaces, this fire was used both for heating the house and cooking meals. It was considered one of the most important parts of the home, and so by extension, the spirits and deities that lived in the hearth and controlled the hearth fire were the most important beings to the household and its survival.

Hestia, Greek goddess of the hearth, was given the first offering of every domestic sacrifice, and at feasts she was granted the first and last sip of wine.

Gabija is the Lithuanian spirit of fire, who was offered bread and salt to feed her. If you did something to disrespect the hearth, like spitting or peeing in it, she was known to burn the house down. Later she would become known as the hearth goddess Matka Gabia.

The Ainu people worship Kamuy-huci, who lived in the hearth and controlled the gateway between humans and the divine. Deceased souls would reside in the hearth alongside her, and so keeping it clean was vital to ensuring those souls could eventually reincarnate properly.

Jowangshin is the hearth goddess of Korean shamanism, and relayed to the heavens the going-ons and behaviors of each household's inhabitants. She is described as vengeful towards those who do not respect their hearths, and actively works against such individuals.

The pattern between all of these deities is clear. The hearth is controlled by a woman who is deserving of the utmost respect. And it is pointless to think on the hearth without tying it to the element it is tasked with controlling and maintaining, fire. Hestia is sometimes described as a living flame, Gabija is originally a fire spirit, in some myths Kamuy-huci is born from a fire producing drill, Jowangshin is the goddess of fire alongside the hearth. To say that a hearth goddess is also a fire goddess is no great stretch of the imagination.

But why does the Allmother's connection with fire matter? Because we're all rather familiar with a certain being who is constantly being associated with fire, flames, and especially warmth:

Right from the beginning, before we even know what he looks like.

In non canon events.

In teasers for the game.

And of course, in the demo itself.

Kuras is a furnace, and we're not allowed to forget it. And wouldn't it just make sense, that the angels of a hearth goddess are themselves related to fire? Kuras is an angel, which means he responds to a higher being, why not this one? What that means for his route, I can only image.

Back to the original text, the traveler is praying that the Allmother will be forgiving of sins, implying that part of her domain includes the right to judge lives and morality. She is also believed to guide lives "unto her hearth," likely at the time of death considering the context of when the pray is being uttered. Which leads me to believe that she is responsible for helping souls pass on peacefully, but only if she deems them worthy of her fire. Since in many cultures a "good" death is a very important end goal to pursue, staying in her favor would be considered paramount to those who believe in her.

Moving on to her title, the name suggests that she is either the deity of a monotheistic religion and thus naturally all encompassing, or a major deity in a polytheistic pantheon. Either way, there are only so many interpretations one can dissect from a title that implies an all encompassing claim of maternal jurisdiction.

If nothing else, I suspect she is considered a mother to her angels. Whether or not Kuras will even bring her up is debatable, since I could just be seeing connections that aren't really there. But as an angel I'm sure he'll at least drop the name of the being he's serving penance for.

Maybe she won't be mentioned ever again. Maybe she'll be an integral part of Kuras' route. Maybe she'll be a passing mention that isn't nearly as important as such a name suggests. Regardless this break down has helped me better understand Kuras' themes, and has made me even more excited to play his route.

[extremely-judgemental]

Neris is often scorned because Eris ‘sees’ Nesta as a thing to be bought or gained. It’s a bit of a stretch to place the blame entirely on him when he was in a similar position with Morrigan/Keir, he knew how Night/Hewn City works, and it was Rhysand who decided to use Nesta as a pawn. It wasn’t even his intention to win one of the sisters. It was fed to him by Rhysand (and Feyre, however unwillingly) first. After his exchange with her, Eris decided he wanted her. Night planned the whole encounter with the idea to dangle Nesta as a piece of meat and we’re mad that he took it?

And this isn’t their first introduction. Eris saw Nesta in the High Lords meeting where he was the only one to acknowledge Nesta’s contribution and skills when no one else did, including Feyre and Cassian.

If Eris wants Nesta only for power, I’m all for it. Night is doing the same, at the least she will be appreciated by someone instead of be abused by Rhysand and Cassian whenever they feel like it.

Eris is the kind of man Nesta’s mother would approve of. So what? I honestly don’t care.

What if Nesta marries this noble and still has a better life?

It took an entire book for Cassian to lust after Nesta and finally say he didn’t want to be shackled to her. I seriously don’t think anyone can be worse than the man who knew Nesta was sexually assaulted and still slept with her immediately after. She literally escaped one predator to be preyed upon by another.

At this point, anyone is a better alternative than Cassian, and that includes Eris.

[irisintheafterglow]

move like an odd sight, come out at night

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: hozier - "movement"

summary: you escape to hell's kitchen, but your reputation follows you no matter where you run. the vigilante on your roof, however, believes you're more than just a weapon.

wc: 2.9k

cw/tags: black widow!reader, canon-typical violence and blood, minor injury, explicit language, pre-ddba bc i put bullseye and fisk in this as antagonists, angst with happy ending, iris loves matt murdock's ass

note: *cautiously approaches 'marvel x reader' writing tag, sets this on the doorstep like a cat with a bird, and runs away*

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

Truthfully, neither of you were very skilled at working with other people. It’s why you were vigilantes, not superheroes; heroes worked on teams and played nice on the playground. You preferred more direct forms of getting the job done, of swinging your pink plastic shovel and beating away kids threatening to invade your square of sandbox territory. Or at least, you did in the past. As of late, you only donned your tactical gear again because unfortunately, the best hiding place you could find was truly a shithole. 

“Got anything yet?”

“No. Whoever’s talking about you, they’re making a point to do it quietly,” he replies, his expression blank as his ears sort through the noises of Hell’s Kitchen trying to find a needle in a city-sized haystack. He’s crouched on the brick ledge your legs dangle off of, looming over the street below like a gargoyle guarding a cathedral. “What was your plan the other night?”

“The night where you crashed my surveillance spot, you mean,” you quip. “And the same night I made the Devil jump out of his skin.” He sends a heatless glare in your general direction.

“What I’m hearing is, you didn’t have a plan and you’re avoiding the question.” Smart-ass.

“My plan was to listen in on police comms and get some extra energy out, but there was a trespasser on my roof.” He hums, satisfied with your answer. To your unwelcome surprise, you ran into both of his identities within twelve hours of moving into your crummy little apartment–Matt at the deli down the street and Daredevil on top of your building. Both times, you also caught him off guard to the point where he nearly threw the nearest cylindrical object at you. The first time it was a sandwich, and the second time it was a baton, but you only had Foggy to save you in the shop. 

You can’t go throwing sandwiches at pretty ballerinas that come into the shop, Matt, you heard Foggy say when he thought you were out of earshot. 

They’re a ballerina? Foggy snorts, assuming that Matt already knew you were jaw-droppingly stunning. In fact, he was waiting for the day his best friend came out as not actually being blind and only using it to reel in women.

Yeah. You would know they were a new teacher at the studio down the street if you weren’t busy trying to assault them with pastrami. 

They caught me off guard, Matt dodges. What’d you want me to do?

Not scaring them off would be a good start. Jeez, I thought you were the charming one in this duo. 

“I can’t say I’m a fan of a spy who can slow their heartbeat,” he admits, finally cracking the smallest of a smile. “It’s a cool trick, but pretty unfortunate for a guy who relies on hearing the bad guys.”

“Good thing I’m not an opponent, Murdock.” Like you, he’s not used to people knowing both his vigilante and his civilian faces interchangeably. You pieced together each other’s alternate identities the moment you interacted on the roof for the first time; your mind clocked his gait, his height, and his voice while he sensed the faintest scent of perfume he smelled earlier in the deli. Because of the accidental encounter, a severe lack of information regarding your new home, and a few other reasons you were purposefully hiding until the need arose, you begrudgingly asked Matt if you could run surveillance with him. He agreed, shrugging and asking if there would be people trying to come after you. 

A buzzing in your pocket grabs your attention and you scowl when you see the dollar sign notification with a hefty amount of zeroes. “Problem,” you huff. 

“What is it?”

“He put a bounty on my head.” The muscle in Matt’s jaw clenches. “Said to bring me in alive, thankfully, but I guess he doesn’t like I’ve been ghosting him. He also didn’t verify how alive I had to be.” 

“He’s used to getting what he wants,” Matt explains with severe distaste. “Fisk isn’t a kind of guy you say ‘no’ to. Last guy who tried to tell him something he didn’t like–”

“Got well acquainted with a car door,” you finish unexpectedly. “Intelligence community, remember? We hear everything, including the brutal executions. It’s why he wants me in the first place.”

“A Widow in his pocket’s like having the Winter Soldier for a genie.”

“Ex-Widow,” you correct. “You know, I met the guy once. Big metal arm. Scary blue eyes. Not my type, especially the greasy hair.”

“Oh?” Matt allows amusement seep into his tone, despite the fact that your freedom just had a price tag put on it. “And what is your type?” You loose the first thought in your head like an arrow straight into his heart. 

“A blind vigilante with a ton of Catholic guilt really get me going,” you answer casually and bite back a smile when he tries to hide his speechlessness. “I figure it’s easier to explain my history to him than Martin the accountant living a few doors down. Plus, the vigilante’s got a nicer ass.”

“I’ll bet,” Matt remarks and you allow yourself to feel the flutter in your stomach at his softer tone. You weren’t used to having a friend, let alone a friend who would help make sure you weren’t used as a weapon again. It didn’t hurt to flirt with him, just a little bit. 

His head suddenly jerks to the side, concentrating. “Found ‘em.”

“Where?”

“Warehouse six blocks down. Fisk’s best prepping for a hunt.” A chill runs through your body and you exhale slowly through your nose to center yourself. It’d been months since you were freed from Dreykov’s mind control, weeks since you first arrived in the Kitchen, but the need to fight for your life was something that would never disappear. It constricted your throat, blurred your vision, and made your palms too clammy to hold a knife. Without the one-track-mind of a Red Room assassin, you found yourself able to feel fear…and it terrified you. “You alright?”

“Peachy,” you deadpan, your voice no longer melodically carefree. 

“You’re not telling the truth,” he says and you swallow thickly. “It’s the one time I hear your heartrate go up, when you’re afraid.” Up until now you would work exclusively solo and you’re unfamiliar with someone who would call you out when you were scared. Your defenses raise immediately.

“Yeah. What about it?” He takes your standoffish nature in stride, rising from his crouched position and holding out his gloved hand to help you from yours. You take it with only a moment’s hesitation and let him give it a comforting squeeze. 

“You’re not fighting alone anymore, you know. As long as you don’t shoot me, I’ll have your back if you have mine.” You nod and even if he can’t see it, it’s mostly for yourself anyway. “Unless, of course,” he continues with a shit-eating smirk, “you’ve got another blind vigilante in mind you’d rather–”

“Alright, Murdock. You’re done,” you chuckle, feeling more at ease. “Let’s get this done quickly; I’ve got class tomorrow.”

—

The confrontation could barely be considered a fight, and you easily would handle them on your own had Matt not been with you. Though, it was much faster having four fists throwing punches instead of two. 

“You didn’t use the guns at all,” he notes once you’re both done knocking out and disarming the three dozen enemies in the warehouse. Catching your breath, you stick your batons in the sheaths on your back and shrug.

“You’re the one who said not to shoot you,” you point out.

“I appreciate the thoughtfulness.” His head tilts and you watch him listen to the labored breathing of a nearby thug. “One’s still conscious. I’ll get him.”

“He’s all yours.”

He stalks toward a guy who you would’ve assumed was unconscious and grabs him by the collar to reveal him very much awake. “Why’s Fisk after them so badly? Answer,” he hisses, “and I won’t break your hands.”

“I’ve found they talk if you dislocate their shoulder,” you suggest nonchalantly, your voice muffled under your mask. The guy’s eyes dart over to you, wide and bloodshot with fright. “Then, relocate it but slightly misaligned. Makes a weird kind of friction if you swing it back and forth.” Matt visibly pauses, considering your stomach-churning advice for a good ten seconds. He wasn’t used to working with others, let alone someone with your skillset; it was like having a slightly more stable Elektra, and that wasn’t much of an improvement. He doesn’t have time to act on your words, though, because suddenly the dam of information in the guy breaks.

“He’s scared of you!” The man exclaims and your eyes narrow. 

“Scared of who?”

“Both of you,” he squeaks and looks back at you. “You were supposed to kill the Daredevil, not team up with him, you deceitful bitch!” Shit. Matt’s body goes deathly still. 

“Fisk hired a Widow to kill me?” He asks lowly. Shit!

“He tried. That’s why he’s pissed.” The scene feels frozen, like a snowglobe on a high shelf. You didn’t necessarily feed Matt a lie; you rejected Kingpin’s offer the same night you went up to your roof, looking for a way to punch out your anger. “And you weren’t supposed to get involved,” he spits on the cowl and it’s the last thing he says before Matt knocks him out cold. 

You stare at his back while he stands, your muscles tensed and ready to retreat or fight, however he reacts. 

“You can take your hand off your gun,” he says without looking at you and your attention flicks down to your hands. You hadn’t realized your fingers found the cool metal on pure instinct. They feel naked without access to any immediate weapon.

“Are you upset?”

“Why would I be?” He turns to face you squarely. Every nerve in your body wants you to run, but you root yourself into the floor because your mind can’t understand how this so-called ‘friend’ could ever hurt you. 

“Because I was supposed to kill you. Your archnemesis wants me to kill you.”

“And you didn’t,” he states patiently. “Your heart is racing.”

“I’m waiting for you to attack me, so I’m not sure what you expect,” you reply carefully. Puzzlingly, his posture remains relaxed, and it’s impossible to read what he’s thinking. “I lied to you. Aren’t you angry?” 

“Why would I be angry for actions you didn’t take?” You blink and look down, suppressing your reflex to bolt when he approaches you until his boots are in front of yours. He murmurs your name, so quietly that only you can hear it. “I’m not Dreykov. You don’t need to plan an escape if you do something I don’t agree with. You’re your own person now.” 

“Am I?” You whisper. “I get out, and yet I still feel like I’m nothing but a weapon.”

“I don’t think you’re a weapon.” Your body is still stiff as a board, waiting for a berating or a beating that won’t come.

“Then what am I?”

“A friend.” 

Your mouth opens to reply, but a flash of movement catches your eye in the doorway you used to enter the warehouse. Acting on its own, your body shoves Matt to the side as an object goes flying past you and a stinging sensation blooms on your upper arm. You duck behind a storage container and find that your self-proclaimed ‘partner’ has disappeared into the shadows. Warmth drips down your arm and you remove your gun from its holster for the first time that night, steadying yourself. 

“Alright, Widow. The boss is mad, so let’s not keep him waiting,” your assailant announces, his voice echoing off rusted metal walls. You hear him make a noise of disgust and kick something solid. “You left a shitshow to mop up, too. I thought you people were supposed to be clean killers. Quick with your target, just like me.” You fight through the adrenaline and finally piece together his identity with one word: target.

“Fuck off, Poindexter. I’m not going,” you snarl and immediately change positions to avoid a small knife that moved with the precision of a homing missile. The blade lodges itself in the metal where your head used to be and you don’t bother trying to yank it out. “Missed.”

“That was a warning, darling.” Creeping carefully from container to container, you catch the reflection of his nearly-identical Daredevil suit in the broken glass on the floor. It crunches beneath his feet as he paces leisurely, waiting for you to reveal yourself. “Let’s go, Widow. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. It’s just you and me here.” He thinks it’s just you.

He doesn’t know that Matt is here. 

“How do I know you’re not gonna kill me when I step out?” Another phrase, another quick change of positions. 

“If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be alive to mouth off.”

“You say that with such confidence.” 

“This confidence is turning to impatience, so let’s go. Don’t make me take you in struggling,” he warns.

“Fine, but don’t throw anything at me, asshole,” you say with as normal of a voice as you can muster, reholstering your gun and stepping into the exposing moonlight. “Entrance in the front’s too exposed. There’s an alley out back we can go through unseen.” Without another word, he follows you to the rear doors and, for once, you’re relieved for your heart to be beating out of your chest. You figure it’s easier for Matt to track your movement.

“Fisk is pissed about your little tantrum the other night, but enough groveling will get you back in good graces.” 

“Like I care about that,” you retort. 

“You should. He won’t stop hunting you.”

“If he does, I’ll come after him myself.” You step out of the warehouse and the top half of your face is hit with frigid air. He was lurking somewhere, you could sense it. A small rectangle of paper crinkles under the toe of your boot and you peer down at it, smiling when you recognize the familiar font of Nelson, Murdock, & Page. “I’m not an asset anymore, Poindexter,” you declare once you’re both shrouded in the dark alley. “And I don’t fight alone anymore.” 

Your stealth training takes over, slowing your heartrate and disappearing from his senses, if only for a moment. Before Poindexter can attempt to find you, there’s a whoosh of air in front of you and the sound of gravel beneath another pair of boots. Matt doesn’t give his enemy a chance to grab any projectiles, bruised knuckles striking in the darkness while you slip behind and knock out his legs. 

When your enemy regains consciousness while slumped on the wet asphalt, there is no trace of the Daredevil or the Widow to be found.

—

Your students catch wind of your fondness of the ‘hot lawyer down the street’ a few weeks after you move into his apartment, and Matt doesn’t do much to keep your relationship a secret.

“Let’s, uh,” your voice trails off when you see him enter the studio for the first time, his mere presence making your cheeks outrageously hot. “Let’s run that combo one more time and call it a day, yes?” Your students follow your eyeline to the man waiting for you by the door and they all perk up at the same time, dancing with near perfection that makes you wonder if Matt should show up at the end of all your classes. 

“Hope it’s alright I came to walk you home,” he greets with that easy smile that sends all sense of reason into the atmosphere. 

“You were a definitely a distraction, but considering that we call the same place ‘home,’ I’ll let it slide,” you reply. His hands pull you by your hips and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, your forearms resting on his shoulders.

“Can we go out tonight?” 

“Don’t we always?” You ask, confused. “We’re out so much where I think our collective sleep hours are in the negatives.”

“Not on patrol,” he corrects. “Let me take you to that place you’ve been wanting to try. The one with the rotating pie stand.” Your mouth gapes. If there was someone who had a worse work-life balance than you, it was your boyfriend. Yet here he was, recommending you both skip patrol. “I wanna give you a proper date. Please?”

“Since when are we allowed to take nights off, Murdock?” You tease.

“Since I made a deal with Spiderman to swing through the Kitchen once a month,” he drawls, attempting to kiss you and frowning when you gently pull back like you’ve offended him. “Sweetheart.”

“You can’t kiss me until you tell me how you managed to pull off a deal with Spiderman.” His forehead creases above his red-lensed glasses.

“I called in a favor.” You know he can hear the skepticism on your face. He exhales before continuing, “I told the kid I’d proofread his friend’s job application. Some opening as a photographer for the Bugle.”

“You tell him you were a lawyer?”

“I told him I’m a very good lawyer.” The last of your students wave goodbye, their eyebrows waggling as they leave the studio.

“Well, counselor, if it is your professional opinion that we should go on a date tonight, I’d be happy to oblige.” 

“God, I love you as a partner,” he breathes.

“For romance or vigilantism?”

“Both.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[tribow]

So I watched Natsume Yuujinchou

or "Natsume's Book of Friends" for the English title.

I was pleasantly surprised by this one. It's a real nice slice of life anime. I'm writing this as of watching season 1 and I'm absolutely going to continue watching this one.

Anyway what's it about? Youkai! Easy way to hook me in immediately. If you involve youkai (or similar folklore creatures) in a story I'm immediately interested. Even so, despite my strong bias on the subject matter, I promise it's done very well.

The titular character, Natsume, is a highschooler born with the ability to see and interact with youkai. Growing up while being able to see supernatural phenomena while everyone else can't was rough for him. (If you don't know what youkai are, think of Natsume's situation like being able to see ghosts.) His parent's weren't even sure how to deal with him and sent him off to their relatives instead of raising the child themselves.

Natsume's character is defined by his isolation, but also by the few people he has met that has shown him real kindness. His current family earnestly cares about him, but he hides the fact that he can see youkai from them, as he does with everyone. He has learned that doing so will lead to isolation, but ironically hiding what he can see isolates him from other people as well.

However, Natsume's ability isn't unique to himself. His grandmother could also see youkai, and she's infamous for creating the "Book of Friends." This book contains the names of tons of youkai, and with that book, you can essentially control any youkai whose name is written in it. For a long time Natsume would have to deal with some youkai targeting him, and this was why. Having now learned that he has his grandmother's book, Natsume resolves to return the names of youkai.

Why?

Well watch the show. I could sit here and summarize it, but that doesn't make for a good review. The story....or at least season one of the story....focuses on that theme: isolation. It's not just Natsume, but many of the youkai he encounters that deal with it in their own ways. As a result, each episode ends on a pretty bittersweet note.

Isolation comes in many forms; loss, rejection, protection, selfishness, resentment, and much more. People, and in this case, youkai experience it in many ways, but instead of wallowing in its own despair, this anime focuses heavily dealing with it positively.

I appreciate this anime's willingness to show very sad situations and the characters involved are pretty mature about it. I can imagine this anime helping actual people deal with their own struggles with isolation.

Now, that's not this anime's only theme. It would be fairly shallow if that's all it had to say. You got some action, comedy, and drama here or there. There's some nice character development going on as well. I really like how the show is written overall.

I wouldn't say its at a "masterpiece" quality since there are definitely some jumps in logic that happens sometimes. It definitely makes some poor excuses to set up certain scenes, but I can't complain too much. These issues only show up for a few episodes.

Speaking of the episodes, they're all self-contained. There's a linear narrative of course, but every episodes concludes itself and does not inform what happens in the next episode. This made it strangely hard to binge for me since there isn't a hook to keep you watching. I loved the show, but each episodes ends on such a satisfying note I want to do something else and come back to it later. Weird.

Anyway, Brain's Base was animating this one! Y'know these guys really take on a wide variety of stuff huh? Natsume is an interesting one since it's both very laid back and has some action. I wouldn't say Brain's Base went particularly crazy here, but you can see the effort put into a lot of shots. The animation looks good, but it's humble. Nothin real fancy going on, but the visual direction does a great job at conveying this story.

I have a feeling this is one of the shows Brain's Base is proud of, and it's successful too! This anime goes on for several more seasons and I'm pretty excited to keep going with it.

What's real crazy is that I've never heard anyone talk about this anime before. This is good! Real good! I highly recommend this to anybody, even if you have never seen anime before. It's rare that I get to say that because there's usually some caveat to an anime that makes it hard to recommend to anybody, but there's nothing to worry about here! It's good, great even.

Maybe it just couldn't reach a large western audience. It is dealing with youkai after all. That's a shame, but hey, it doesn't mean you can't watch it now! Give it a try!

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

june 3, 2022 2:00 p.m. newcrest counseling

"i'm really happy to hear you think you worried too much, but what makes you say that? did you feel differently than you expected?"

"i did, actually. as i've figured out over the last week, doing the work to become a healthier person means i know how to better manage negative emotions. i often still default to seeing myself as the person who just falls apart as soon as i feel any emotion less pleasant than neutral. at first, when i was on the plane and then in my hotel room alone, i was battling negative thoughts, but i turned it around pretty quickly. to be honest, that was weird. i'm so used to having to completely lose it before i can recover. recovering at the first very tiny peak in severity is almost a miracle.

finding the good things, however small, to focus on last weekend was what helped me revert my mood and stop feeling icky before icky became horrendous. the negative thoughts on my mind, i redirected to the best of my ability. like, for example, okay, if i never fly an airplane again before i die, i'll just be thrilled i could do it for a few years. a few wonderful years is better than zero years. little kid grant never thought he'd survive past 18, let alone follow his dreams. if time travel were possible and i could go back and tell grant kid he flew an airplane one day, he'd never fucking believe it. so, i already won. nothing can take that away.

on that note, i'm historically not the best at being open to good things or experiences. i'm at least prone closing myself off to relishing them once they're over. i spent so long being lashed by the world with no end in sight that i don't trust goodness, you know? i expect people to get fed up with me or to hurt me. i expect the universe to screw me over. i also believe i don't deserve goodness, and i've thrown away good things myself for that reason alone. i think i'll struggle with those specific thoughts for a very long time, but i do know that i am learning move past them. i'm learning to believe i deserve better and to appreciate things more and to extract what i can from my experiences.

i realized i was moving past those thoughts for the first time after dealing with my ex and then cutting off my dad for the second time, but especially after my dad, and now i'm confirming the changes. i felt like hot garbage for weeks after that final conversation with him because i just did. reminding myself of how truly horrible he was as a father hurt, but after a while, i was glad i told him the truth, and suddenly, i had much more appreciation for the male figures in my life who were or are kind to me. a burden was legitimately lifted off my shoulders, and old me would have never managed to find anything positive in that situation, so the fact that current me did says a lot. if i can find something positive there, i can find something positive anywhere.

but hey, i'm not even getting to the most fulfilling part of why i felt differently than i expected. the wedding was genuinely great, and i ended up wasting no substantial amount of time absorbed in my own feelings, so i got to be present with my friends. even when i was pretending my trauma didn't exist years ago, i spent so much time stuck in my own head or my own body, always filtering every personal conversation through that lens, and you don't get how much energy and attention that soaks up until you can be fully present with people. of course, it helps that i knew all these people and knew i could relax and trust them, but still. it felt good to be able to devote my entire attention to celebrating them and their lives and not have split it between them and my own exhausting thoughts."

[yorutsuki]

「 ✦ New Recruit P.2 ✦ 」

↳ A vigilante—Xiphos, your code name. Your boyfriend doesn't know about that though, well, until he was assigned a mission with him.

[Male Reader]

──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────

'So...you come here often?' You flirted through translater, the emotionless failing to give some type of justice for your words.

Though 'twas amusing nonetheless...at least for you.

Aventurine only sucked in a breath, before side eyeing you then giving a strained smirk. "Only known each other for only 30 minutes yet you have the courage to flirt?" He raised a brow amused. "I'm flattered." His smile never faltared.

You smiled under your mask, going back to type on your keyboard.

'what can I say, I have to make some advances before someone can whisk you away before I even get the chance.' You shrugged yet eternally laugh at the dramatic irony of those words.

Adventurine looked back at you with a small airy chuckle. "My, that's quite bold of you." He seemed to pause with thought and hesitance.

You both made a agreement to conceal your relationship from the public—not even your close friends knew. With the stakes of his work, it was a risk. Thus you could understand his hesitance, and appreciated the thought.

"Unfortunately, i'm already whisked away, as you put it." His smile lightening, giving a warning vibe.

You slanted your head to the side, now being the one amused.

You decided to be daring, inputing with; 'Oh? And who's the lucky girl?' You saw the way your boyfriend's eye twitched, his smile and features falters slightly. Though he quickly masked it with a small huff, his features lightening like there wasn't a care—that the topic was that of conversing of dirt.

"Well, I do believe this...discussion has dragged from the main subject, hm? That is a quite private matter—and not suitable for our work, no?" He side eyed you, sitting straight on the bar chair, his legs crossed as he gulped down more of his drink.

You nodded, 'Of course, curiosity killed the cat in the end.'

You decided to push it just a bit more.

'Though, I am curious however to your significant other's name...maybe I possibly know her.'

By now, Aventurine's smile was wiped off.

How he wish he would've just been assigned another partner-hell, he'd wish he would have never had curiosity with this vigilante at this point.

"Curiosity killed the cat you say yet you still intruige on matters that have no business with."

"I think it's about time we separate ways. The drinks may be getting to your head." He started, standing from his seat, before giving you a card. "Please, only text me when theres a work purpose." Aventurine starting walking off, wanting nothing more than to get to his room and be in the comfort of his boyfriends arms.

He glanced back at the vigilante, glaring. "-and nothing more."

You sighed, looking at the card with his work number, a small grin forming on from the amusing night.

Now you had a race against time to get back as if you hadn't just spent the weirdest hour with your boyfriend who had no clue he was even talking to his boyfriend.

Ah, and create a alibi...

...

"Baby you're back!" You grinned, practically jumping into the arms of your lover who smiled relieved to see you and returned the affection.

"Thankfully." He sighed onto your shoulder.

You smirked in amusement. "care to share your night?"

"Only if you share your's afterward. And, once we get out of these clothes." He grimaced, feeling the ick lingering.

You chuckled, nodding.

...

Bonus:

Aventurine explained the night in detail, from meeting Xiphos, to the conversations—the flirting and all, to how he left.

"Jeez Xiphos sounds..." You hummed, trying to find a word. "Annoying?" You shrugged, not finding any other fitting word within your vocab.

Aventurine lightly chuckled. "You can say that. I'm just praying that they'll stop making advances before I end up being their new mission."

Your brow rose with curiosity. "Oh? What does that mean?" You asked.

The gambler only smirked, "nothing, nothing. Only planning options if need come to be." He shrugged.

These will be the most weirdly interesting three days.

.

.

.

A/N: grah, can't wait to fall unconscious and dream of stuff.

[echantedtoon]

Obsession 憑 Ch54

Tagging: @lavenderdropp @supernovacoffeestop @gilded-sunrays @crescent-blades @yumakutagawa @kksmush @rjasmin2021 @ameyarain @daisy-is-gone @thotfulwriter @yimmy-homebase-world11

Remember if you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

(Warning for mentioning of Y/n's wounds and treatment. I don't know Kokushibo's wife's real name but Haruhime is pretty popular for fans to call her so I'll use that name.)

                                                                                    Part 7 Eclipse 

The amount of time that it took between Yoriichi leaving and Shinobi coming in was a blur. She didn't say much. She asked you to sit up slowly and with help from Mitsuri.managed to get you to sit on your bottom with the dull stabbing pain down your back. She then gently had you remove the loose comfy shirt someone had dressed you in to peer at your back.

She hummed. "It's not as bad as everyone thought. You're recovery process will be a bit delayed but it's not too serious and this time it might fully heal without any future complications!"

You rolled your eyes with a hiss. "Gee. Thank goodness someone pushing me into a hot springs didn't kill me. I'm so lucky."

"You ARE lucky. If Prince Michikatsu hadn't dove in to save you, you would've drowned."

"Oh. One of the crazy men holding me hostage here spared me again. How lovely." Both women exchanged looks. "Where is he anyways?"

"He's explaining the incident to Lord Tsugikuni over lunch. I don't know what mood he'll be in once he comes back however he seemed to be calmer than before. So I say take that as a good sign. How do you feel?"

"My back is killing me."

"I'll give you some herbal tea that should help numb the pain! For now just lay on your stomach to avoid agitating the wound. At least until you heal up enough."

"Thank you. I mean it. I appreciate it a lot."

Both ladies smiled at you. It was almost peaceful when you were given very bitter tasting tea to drink as it contained pain numbing herbs, before they helped you lay back down and get back into the comfortable warm soft bed. It wasn't too long before you fell back asleep feeling tired once more.

You weren't sure how long you were asleep for but when you closed your eyes snow fell.

The snow looked beautiful today.

The soft snowflakes coming down from the skies fluttering and falling from the dark clouds but there was still enough light peeking out of the silver clouds to allow her to see what was in the sky. Like little shiny diamonds shining in the sunlight and sparkling in the sky on the way down until they joined the ground where they joined the white blanket covering the earth that sparkled more than a thousand strands of studded silk.

Her eyes scanned the beauty before her shivering as the wind blew the cold winter air across her body and dusting her with the sparkling snowflakes.

"Nii-san!"

Her head turned. Standing there was a young boy small but yet resembled her so much. Takeo stood there blinking up at you with a curious tilt of his head probably wondering why his big sister was outside in the cold winter morning.

"What are you doing outside?" Those red eyes looked down at one of her younger brothers. Approaching footsteps echoed throughout the back deck as he approached her. Takeo gazed up at her with a curious face. Stopping just in front of her. "It's cold outside."

"I know but the snow is beautiful." Her head turned back on the environment around them. "It's so peaceful. As pure as the heavens yet it can cause much damage by becoming a blizzard. Snow really is an interesting thing. Do you not agree?"

He looked at the scenery scrunching up his face before scratching his head in confusion. "I guess so but it's too cold out, Y/n. Ma's gonna be really upset if you get sick. She's already worried about Father mining in the cold."

A sigh left your mouth. "I know." Lips frowned down at the reminder of the way your father was so fragile yet still was so strong. But how long would it last? "Where is she?"

He pointed back towards the open door just as Hanako ran by giggling at some game. "She's cooking breakfast! Come eat before Tanjiro eats it all again."

A laugh escaped your mouth as you stood up with a shiver from the cold. "Alright. Hopefully he hasn't accidentally eaten Father's portion right?"

Takeo giggled before reaching out further towards the side of the house. "Knock on wood!"

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

You weren't sure what time it was but when you woke it wasn't to cold. But warmth and softness. Red eyes blinked as your head lifted with a snort groggily blinking at nothing with messy bed head hanging down your face. Slowly blinking you looked around, quickly noticing that the room wasn't your house but the prison cell that was the palace bedroom again. No family to comfort you.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

With a frown your head turned to the door with narrowed eyes quickly deducing that was the cause for your disturbance. "Who is it?"

"It's me," Yoriichi's voice calmly called out from behind the door.

"What do you want now?!", you barked annoyed. You were REALLY tired of these people!

"I wanted to talk to you before Lady Shinobu looked over you again." His calm voice softly pleaded from the other side. "Won't you please let me come in? I brought you lunch."

Your brows rose. "...Lunch?"

"When you fell asleep yesterday you slept all through the night and this morning. Lady Shinobu said your month of mistreatment took a toll on your body. Look. I understand that you hate me and...you ..have every right to be. I understand that you don't want to forgive me and I won't ask you too." Your eyes widened at his words. "All I ask is that you hear me out and just talk. That's all."

Yoriichi...wanted to talk? Really? NOW he wanted to talk after everything that he and his brother pulled in the past?!

Your frown turned into a scowl at the door. "You have got a LOT of nerve asking to talk now after you destroyed my town and kidnapped me!!" No answer came back from the other side. "You could've talked to me at any point in time and you chose NOW to do it?! Absolutely not!! I'm not interested in hearing about how much you want to marry me again! Or how much you 'love me'! Or any other fake ass logic you pulled out of your ass!"

There was again silence for a long while before a tired sigh replied. "I'm not here to talk you INTO something. I'm here to talk to you about something."

"What's the difference?! Makes no difference to the situation!"

"Actually it does."

"How?!"

"I'm here now because I was just in a marriage interview with someone else." You blinked. "I wanted to discuss this with you over breakfast but she arrived earlier than expected. That's what I'm here to talk about. Brother and I....we-we're going to accept the marriage Father arranged for us."

A glass breaking sound went off in your mind as the silence resumed once more as you laid there staring at the door in shock.

Yoriichi. The man who was as relentless as his brother to find you and bring you back, and spent the first few days seeing you declaring his love every few hours. Was getting MARRIED?! And Michikatsu?!...You didn't believe him.

"I don't believe you."

"I know. I didn't expect you to. But ..can we still talk?"

You sighed rolling your eyes. He really wasn't gonna give up until he spoke huh? Whatever. You wouldn't be manipulated by him and your stomach growled in hunger. You'd entertain the crazy man just this once.

"Fine. But don't try anything. I still know how to defend myself with bare hands if need be."

Their pregnant silence continued once again as narrowed red eyes stared at the door. Eventually there was some fiddling sounds on the other side before the outside guard stationed to protect you skid open the door to reveal none other than Yoriichi. He now looked how he normally did with his hair tied up and a tray in his hands. Upon the tray was a bowl and cup from what you could see from the angle you had. He thanked the guard before stepping inside, door sliding behind him as he stared at you. For a moment there was nothing but you staring until your stomach growled again registering the smells of cooked rice, beef, and green tea.

"Haha. It sounds like you're hungry. Here." You said nothing as he walked on over and slowly placed the tray down on the floor. Oh. It was everything you smelt. A bowl of rice, and a slab of meat. A cup of tea next to it. "Let me help you up into a sitting position." You again scowled t him which made him hold up his hands. "Just to help you sit up. Please? It'll be easier for you to eat then."

"...Keep your hands where I can see them or else!"

He did. Pulling the blanket off you before gently helping you up as you hissed in pain before sitting in a crossed legged position. The tray placed in your lap. You examined it thoroughly before daring to pick up the chopsticks and satisfying your stomach's demands. There was more silence as you ate. It wasn't anything fancy. Plain white rice and cooked beef, but compared to the past month of eating nothing but soup for your meals it was like the sweetest honey. Yoriichi silently just watched as you ate, making himself at home sitting down across from you but far enough away for you to be comfortable. He said nothing until you were halfway through your bowl to speak.

"I hope it tastes good. It was the only thing Father permitted us to bring you."

You huffed rolling your eyes. "Is he mad at me again?"

"I kept your name out of it. He only knows that some maids got into a fight. The punishment I gave to all of the maids was enough to satisfy him."

You stopped to stare at him. "...What kind of 'punishment' did you give them?"

"No food or proper bedding for three days. They still have two more days to go." Although...he left out the part where Michikatsu.. punished the sisters. He still hasn't seen any sight of them.

"It's cruel to keep food from them."

"And it's cruel to bully you. Assault you. Almost KILL you."

You didn't comment on that. Only turning back to continue eating. "What exactly are you here for again?"

"Oh yes. Thank you for reminding me." His look turned serious as he looked you in the eyes. "Earlier today Uta came to see me."

Uta? That name doesn't ring a bell. You've never heard of her before. "Who's she?"

"She's from a successful farmer from one of Muzan's territories." He frowned slightly just mentioning the scumbag's name. "Her position isn't very high, but Father thinks a marriage between someone from both our territories will strengthen bonds between them. I've come here to officially tell you that I plan on accepting the marriage."

There was again silence as you stared at him looking up and down. Was he bluffing? Trying to insight some kind of jealousy or anger from you? Was he trying to entice you to beg him to be with you instead with this news fake or not? He was definitely crazy enough.

"... Congratulations. I'm happy you're finally coming to your senses and moving on." You looked back to your food after sarcastically muttering to him. "Sure took you long enough. Sure you both basically took over my town, wouldn't leave me alone, and kidnapped me away from my family- But better late than never right?"

"I expected this kind of reaction from you."

"Well what WERE you expecting?" You pointed a piece of beef at him. "That I'd immediately throw myself at your feet begging you to marry me right then and there?"

"No..I was expecting your suspicion and sarcasm," he admitted with a sad sigh. "I just wanted to inform you of it."

"What's the point of doing that? So both of you will be getting married then. Now I'll be partially free of you both." You shoved the beef into your mouth. "Anything else, Your Highness?"

His eyes widened slightly but his expression still remained somber. "Yes, actually. I know I hurt you in ways that I shouldn't have, and for that I do apologize and I am sorry. But I also know you'll probably never forgive me." Her look told him he got that right. "I very much wish that I could help you but as long as my father is alive, I can't do anything for your stay here."

"What is your point in all of this?"

"I've gotten rid of your debt. Your debt has now been added onto the remaining maids. They'll have to work it off." You choked on the beef in your throat. "Furthermore I'll be taking you out of the service with the other maids. Your placement will be decided once I discuss it with my brother."

You coughed and cough and coughed pounding on your chest until you were able to croak out a word. "WHAT?! WHY?!"

"To ensure your safety."

"Uh..How about no?" You deadpanned looked at him. "I agreed to work off to atone for my 'crimes' and to repay my debts! I did it to get away from both of you! Did you forget that?"

"I know that. Believe me if I could I'd grant you that freedom buy I can't. Only Father holds that power until he dies."

"Then why do this?"

"Because I do love you-"

"YOU DON'T HAVE LOVE FOR ME!!" The room echoed with your angry voice. Rage igniting with your body at him. You knew it. Nothing but another love confession. "YOU NEVER LOVED ME BECAUSE IF YOU DID I WOULDN'T BE HERE!! WHAT YOU HAVE IS JUST FASCINATION BECAUSE YOU U LATCHED ONTO ME! IT'S EXACTLY AS I SAID!! IF YOU-"

A warmth suddenly placed itself over your mouth stopping you from talking. The sudden motion making you shocked and paused long enough to get him to speak again.

"Love something then let it go," he calmly stated before slowly removing his hand from your soft face. "And I wish I could. I would let you flee in a heartbeat but unfortunately I can't do that. Not out of feelings but because it's not within my power. However what I can do is to limit your exposure to danger. My presence will do that."

...You slowly blinked looking at him again. "...Why? Why are you doing this?"

"Because..When I share a room with you, I'm in a temple." He leaned closer. "When you speak I hear angels singing. When you walk side by side with me, I walk the path of heaven. And when you smile..I am happy."

Red eyes widened as the soft feeling of warmth presses against your forehead for nothing but a second before he immediately backed away and stood up. Looking at you. Mix of hurt, longing, want, and guilt in his eyes.

"I'll be informing my father that I've accepted the engagement with Ms. Uta. With any luck he'll be in such a good mood that I might be able to convince him to let you go. Until then Shinobu will tend to you. I leave you in her capable hands."

You didn't react to him when he left. The door opening and closing behind him as he left, leaving you to sit there in the empty room all alone with half eaten food in your lap. The silence still continued until a rush of realization hit you hard.

The guard outside jumped as a woman's frustrated screech cascaded out.

******************

You were loosing count of days which was bad.

A routine of yours fell into place while you stayed there. Twice a day Shinobu would come in, sometimes with Mitsuri sometimes not, and would treat and dress your wounds twice a day. Once in the morning and once more before sundown. You'd then just basically sit down in your room all day doing nothing but stare at the ceiling and move around to get your body used to moving again despite the physical pain.

You suffered worse during the war. You could handle this. The pain lessoned with each day anyways thanks to Shinobu's treatment. Twice a day you'd be delivered food by confused looking guards wondering why they were delivering food to an injured maid but knowing that it was probably the princes that ordered them, their fear of him meant they didn't question anything. Whatever. You didn't mind. After months of nothing but a poor excuse of vegetable stew to eat, you'd happily take rice and beef.

Once you got curious and tried to leave your room. You had just opened the door but you hadn't even been able to step a foot out when a guard right outside the door pulled out his sword to block the way by holding up the sharp weapon diagonally across the doorway.

"Prince Michikatsu has ordered you to stay inside until he sees fit," was his only answer to you. "Get back inside."

Great. You couldn't even step out of your own room either. A prisoner all over again. Shinobu had no idea either, just there to do her normal duty of bandaging you up again. But she at least had good news.

"You're almost fully healed! You'll be better in no time!"

That was one good thing at least. When you finally got out the guard was already waiting for you. You wanted to see if you could possibly sneak out one day while everyone was sleepy in the early morning. So carefully you opened the door only to freeze as an armed guard stood right there in front of you face to face. He also seemed surprised when you just opened the door and for a few seconds you both silently stared at one another. Until he cleared his throat looking stern again.

"The princes have ordered me to take you to the grand hall. Follow me and do not resist."

Yoriichi and Michikatsu wanted to see you after all this time? Why? What could those two possibly want with you this time? ...Well there was no use in fighting it you guessed. Without a word from either of you, you just obediently stepped out and followed him through the halls towards the grand hall. From what you came to know from your time as a maid that the grand hall was where the royal family usually ate, hosted important meetings and ceremonies, and conducted business with important figures as well as serving as the Emperor's throne room. Wonder what kind of 'meeting' they were planning.

As you both walked you noticed something. The maids that you had usually seen walking around doing jobs around the large estate were looking at you. Some gave you looks of hatred which you returned and others looked away from you looking pale. Ah. Most likely Yoriichi's punishment had caused quite a fear amongst them all. Because now they knew one thing, if they tried anything like that again...Well Yoriichi might not be as merciful as last time or worse, Michikatsu might catch wind of it and...Well...The older prince was less likely to spare mercy. A quick death or hard labor if they're lucky. You did feel bad a bit, couldn't help but feel a bit bad, but in the end they shouldn't have been so cruel to you. Hopefully no other poor girl in the future will have to experience what you went through.

You both eventually stopped by the sliding door leading into the grand hall to which the guard slid right open before bowing. "Your highnesses, the girl you requested is here."

You didn't bother bowing instead looking in and being taken aback by not one, not two, not even three but FOUR figures in the room. Two was obviously the twins who's eyes visibly lit up upon seeing you but you ignored them in favor of looking at the other figures standing there with them. It was more women.

Very beautiful women.

Both looked around the same age and height with long black hair. The only difference was their faces and outfits. The lady next to Yoriichi was smiling widely and had big round eyes meanwhile the woman to Michikatsu's side was more calm and regarded you with a neutrality. Both wore flower printed dresses however the woman to the right wore an almost all orange dress and white head cloth the woman to the left wore a very intricate blue silk kimono. Obviously one was a mere  commoner while the other was either nobility or from a wealthy family at the very least. 

"Y/n." Your body flinched being addressed by Yoriichi as beckoned for you to come in. "Please come in. We have someone we'd like you to meet." You hesitated raising a brow looking between them before slowly walking in and cautiously approaching them. "You may leave." He waved off the guard whom quickly dispersed before kindly gesturing to the woman next to him. "Y/n, this is Uta. She's going to be staying with us until the marriage ceremony."

Marriage ceremony?! Your red eyes turned back to the other woman smiling at you. Holy Buddha. He was really serious about this whole marriage thing wasn't he? You had doubted he was telling the truth but it looked like you were wrong..But you were still going to keep your guard up around him.

Biting the sword you stiffly bowed to her(not him-) in greeting. "It's..a pleasure to meet you, Lady Uta."

You heard giggling above you and felt slightly embarrassed as the giggling lady waved a hand at you and the other covering her mouth. "Lady? Me? Everyone has just been so nice to me here. I'm really not that important."

Yoriichi immediately did something that surprised you. Immediately he grabbed her hand and held it up to his mouth and to your UTTER SHOCK, he kissed her hand. Looking at her in genuine adoration and...love?? "You'll soon be a lady either way. It's only right that they treat you with the respect that you deserve, My Love."

You stood there bent over bowing stunned, eyes wide open and jaw slightly agape. Yoriichi just...kissed her. Yoriichi KISSED someone that wasn't YOU. Uta as she was called, giggled an honestly cute high pitched giggle, clutching her reddening face but you were too in shock to really comprehend what was going on. Only being able to stare at Yoriichi and Ut- The sounds of a throat clearing had you jump up started, head turning to the one who wanted your attention. Finding Michikatsu standing there staring down at you intently and eerily calm before his hand slowly gestured to the woman who you just now realized was holding his arm.

"May I present Lady Haruhime. You may have seen her during banquets with other ladies of the court."

No. You definitely hadn't because you never went to court banquets or worked them during your time as a man or soldier. You had no idea who this woman was..but rather than argue with anyone, you bowed again(to HER not him) politely gritting your teeth. "Of course. How could I not recognize her? It's a pleasure to meet you in person, My Lady."

She was silent regarding you up and down for a few seconds before speaking. "The pleasure is mine." 

"Her father is my father's court Minister of Treasury and thus has been promised to me since birth. She'll become my wife within the year, so be sure to treat her with respect," he spoke bluntly as if he was just speaking to any other servant.

His way of speaking to you was surprising as any other time he had spoken with an adoring look to you but his eyes and tone lacked that obsession now. Perhaps it was really true? Perhaps they had really moved on from you finally and turned their obsession to someone else. If that was true..A hopeful and relieved feeling shot down your spine and you felt a little bit bad for the ladies...But perhaps fate had finally spared you from the misery at last.  But that still raised the question-

"May I ask why your highnesses have called me here?," you asked slowly and carefully. 

Yoriichi gained a realization look. "Oh yes. Thank you for reminding us. While Lady Haruhime and Uta stays with us, we'd like you to act as their personal lady in waiting until we can arrange some interviews to find someone more suitable for that position. We don't trust the current maids after that incident months ago." He spoke softly gesturing to the beautiful woman. "You'll be tending to their every need from this moment until more suitable replacements are found."

So they just wanted you to tend to their finances until their weddings? That was..weird. Why have the woman you were previously obsessing over tend to your fiance? Then again they DID have a good point about the maids. They unjustly attacked and tormented you just because you were a woman who fought in the war. What would they possibly do to Uta who according to Yoriichi was chosen from Muzan's territory to help strengthen the peace at random and by the looks of it was also a commoner? You didn't want to see anyone get hurt like you did, so having you tend to them was probably their safest option for both of them AND YOU because you weren't sure you wanted to go back working as a maid again after the experience.

"Oh..Alright."

He nodded. "Then it's settled." He said nothing else to you as he turned back to whom you supposed was his fiance now. "I'll be leaving you in her care. If you're in need of anything then please don't hesitate to come find me or ask the head maid. She'll arrange it for you."

"Oh you don't have to worry about me." She waved him off. "I'll be perfectly fine. Especially since I have someone to help me!"

"Then I'll bid you good bye for now. I must speak with my father about finding some suitable ladies for you." He hummed in thought. "The court healer has three sisters..If they're as capable as Lady Shinobu, then perhaps they'd be good candidates."

"Of course! Don't worry about me!"

You watched as Yoriichi bowed deeply in respect to his fiance before turning around and walking past you without a second glance. Which surprised you. He'd always give you one last look at you before he left to go anywhere but he said nothing. Did nothing except silently leave through the door you had just walked in through. Well..that was weird. Good but very very strange. You slowly turned back around to the remaining prince whom hummed watching his brother leave before turning to the beautiful woman on his arm. 

"Will you be in need of anything?", Michikatsu asked her.

She nodded to him. "Some proper furnishings for my room. A vanity and garments mostly."

"Then I'll arrange for them to be brought to you immediately." He slowly slipped out from her grasp and bowed his head. "Shall you need anything else, you only need ask for it. I'll be seeing to the arrangements for the ceremony." She said nothing as he too left in the same manner as his brother, silently and without a second glance at you except to say- "Take care of her. If she requires anything else you are to notify me immediately."

You just nodded at him and watched as he left. Leaving you there alone with the two women until you turned back around and looked at them silently. Uta tilted her big smiling face at you and Lady Haruhime only continued to stare with that silent neutrality. So..what now? Maybe you should introduce yourself to make this less awkward? Yes. That might help.

You slowly bowed to them out of kindness. "My name is Y/n Kamado. It's very nice to meet you both."

"Aw. You don't have to bow to me!," Uta said as your third companion remained silent. "I'm just glad everyone's been so nice to me. It wasn't anything like I was expecting."

They probably didn't want to encure the wrath of the Tsugikuni Clan by threatening Yoriichi's fiance. You didn't say that though leaning back up. "Will there be anything you need?"

"Oh no. I'm fine-"

"I'm hungry." You both stopped as Uta was cut off by Haruhime. After a second of staring, she simply turned to the table of food and walked over to calmly sat down. Her hand gesturing to you in a 'follow me' motion.."Come serve me."

It was only then when you remembered how early in the morning it was and you had tried to sneak out. No one had probably eaten yet. 

"Oh. Yes. I'll do that."

"Good idea! I'm starving!," Uta exclaimed just hopping on over to the table. "Let's eat! Wow. There's so much food here! Have you ever had roasted pigeon?"

"..Yes."

"I haven't. I wonder what it tastes like compared to chicken-"

You blinked at the two polar opposite women. This was certainly going to be interesting.

*******

[e-dubbc11]

Old Memories…And New Ones

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dad! Dean Winchester x F! Hunter Reader

Warnings: Couple of swear words, fluffy bunnies and unicorns, little bit of angst, and PG-13 smexy time.

Word Count: 4.1K-ish(Wasn’t expecting it to be this long)

Summary: Dean shares some old photos with you, prompting you to look for the photos you have of you and your mother. And Dean has a surprise for you at the end.

A/N: Part of the Carrying On series. If you need a refresher or haven’t read it, I’ll leave it linked HERE. I didn’t expect this one to be this long, it took on a life of its own so I hope you like it.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Delicately holding the photograph, you studied it carefully for a brief moment.

A beautiful young woman with blond hair peeking around her adorable young son, both of them had closed lip smiles stretched across their faces, and their kind eyes had smiled for the camera as well.

Like your mother, Dean’s mother had passed away when he and Sam were very young but in very different ways. However, losing a parent is difficult no matter what. You were even younger than Dean was when your mother passed.

Vaguely, you remember her being sick and then in a blink of an eye, she was gone. You didn’t have any real memories of her. All you had were a few old photos from when you were a baby and as a young toddler.

If you didn’t have those, you wouldn’t have even known what she looked like although every chance he had, your father would always tell you how much you reminded him of her and in more ways than just her looks.

From the stories your father told you about her, she just seemed like such a wonderful person and more than anything you wished you could recall just one fond memory of her but at least you had your dad’s stories and the photos.

Charlie was already in bed so it was just you and Dean relaxing by the fireplace with a couple of beers.

“She was beautiful, Dean.” You voiced, softly with a slight smile. “And look at how cute you were!”

“WERE?! I’ve changed that much, huh sweetheart?” He joked. “I’d love to see some pictures of you, y/n. Do you have any?”

You chuckled a little, leaned over, kissed him on the cheek and replied, “I don’t have a lot of photos but I do have some. I’d love to show them to you. And what I meant was, now you’re just incredibly handsome.”

Dean set his beer down on the coffee table after taking a sip, closed the gap between your bodies and purred in your ear, “I dunno how but you always manage to turn me on with just a smile and a little compliment but you do.”

He removed the bottle from your hand and set it down next to the other one. His tongue swiped along his lower lip as he gazed at you with his beautiful green eyes. They were the color of fresh blades of grass after a summer rain, healthy and bright with the molten orange flame from the fire reflecting in his pupils.

You knew that look well. Dean gently swept a stray hair away from your face, stroked the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb before deftly pressing his lips against yours. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as he deepened his kiss, his full lips slanted over yours while his tongue silently pleaded to tangle with yours.

A hint of light citrus and wheat were still fresh on his lips from the beer as you moaned against his mouth and his hands traveled from your face, down your body before finally resting on your waist.

“Whoa, wait a minute there, stud. I know what you’re doing.” You said in an accusatory but playful tone.

Dean’s strong hands roamed over your hips and on the outside of your thigh as a sly smile stretched across his lips.

“What am I doin’, baby?” He asked with raised eyebrows before passionately kissing you again.

“You’re normally always the one to point out that we could get caught in the act by your son when we fool around out here. And now, you’re initiating it…which is VERY hard to resist.” You said, pointing your finger at him.

The two of you hadn’t been caught by Charlie yet but as he was very curious, it was only a matter of time before you got yourselves into a position you wouldn’t be able to talk your way out of.

Dean continued to stare at you while biting down on his lower lip, his agile fingers dipped below the waistband of your jeans and simultaneously brushed along the sensitive skin of your stomach and the pants. Goosebumps peppered across your skin as a sharp tingle traveled down your spine and you felt him undo the top button of your jeans.

“Oh I’m hard to resist, huh? I can show you somethin’ else that’s hard.” He said with a goofy grin.

Dean had the ability to turn any sexy moment like this one into a ridiculous one which always made you laugh and you loved him for that. Being with someone that could make you laugh was important because you had gone through most of your life without a lot to smile about.

A loud cackle escaped your lips and you quickly covered your mouth, hoping Charlie wouldn’t hear you.

“Let’s go to bed, handsome.” You said, raking your fingers through his soft brown hair.

After spending your life on the road with your father, hunting, and never having a place to call home, it was the best feeling in the world to finally have a home and spend your time with someone who had your heart.

You both stood up, Dean grabbed the beer bottles, and before he started for the kitchen, he replied, “I’ll be right there, sweetheart. Gonna shut off the lights and make sure the fire will be alright ‘til morning.”

As you walked in front of him, with his free hand, Dean playfully slapped you on the ass and said in a slightly deeper and gravelly tone this time, “And no sleeping!”

Glancing down at your gray Henley, you grasped it at the hem and in one fluid motion, pulled it up and over your head. Dean’s jaw dropped as he hungrily stared at you in just your red lace bra.

You tossed the shirt, he caught it with his free hand, and you quipped with a wink, “Then hurry up, baby.”

Before you closed his bedroom door behind you, there was a sound of the glass bottles clinking and crashing into the sink, followed by Dean trying to find the light switches before muttering, “Son of a bitch.”

**********

Dean woke you the next morning by softly kissing your bare shoulder and spooning up behind you to warm your body. The bristles of his beard tickled your neck as he left a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your pulse point.

“Mmmm…that feels nice, baby. I’ll make some coffee, ok?” You said.

“No, no, where ya goin’? I can do somethin’ else that feels even nicer.” He purred into your ear.

“Well, if you wanna enjoy your coffee in peace before Charlie and Bear get up, I suggest we get up now. Come on, stud.” You said with a smirk.

Letting Charlie sleep in on the weekends was standard. He did so much during the week, between school and a couple of activities, the poor kid was exhausted so he and Bear were still asleep while you and Dean enjoyed a cup of coffee at the kitchen table.

“Thank you, Dean.” You said in barely more than a whisper.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he took a sip of his coffee and replied, “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Then, with a confused look on his face and after the coffee hit the pit of his stomach, he turned to you and asked, “F-for what, exactly?”

“For showing me all of those pictures last night. The ones of you and your parents when you were little…those are nice to have.” You said.

Dean brushed your knuckles with his fingers, smiled, and replied, “You still have to show me yours.”

“I’ll find them later today while you’re out with Charlie. Don’t forget, that birthday party starts at 2.” You stated.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. You could tell he forgot and was angry with himself for forgetting.

“Crap…” Muttered Dean. “I forgot about that.”

Like magic, you pulled a gift bag from underneath the table and said, “Lucky for you, I didn’t forget. Charlie said the kid is a little bit of a nerd and he likes baseball, so I got him a puzzle of Yankee Stadium.”

“You really are the best. I love you so much, thank you.” He said, as he leaned across the table to kiss you. “Sure you don’t wanna come too? It’ll keep the horny single moms away from me.”

“You have fun at the arcade with Charlie and I’ll see you guys when you get back. I have some chores to do at home and I know I have those photos, I just don’t exactly know WHERE they are.” You said with a chuckle, brushing his beard with your thumb.

Dean let out an exaggerated sigh, “Okaaaaaaay. Well, it will give me time to make sure my hunter fighting skills are up to par.”

You giggled and replied, “I love you too, handsome. Just drop Bear back home before you head out, ok?”

He nodded, kissed the top of your head and began to rub his hands together rapidly. “You got it, baby. Think it’s time for Charlie to rise and shine.”

You just shook your head, smiled, and watched him walk down the hall to wake Charlie up.

**********

The nervous tingle in your hands and fingers persisted as you searched high and low for the photographs of you and your mother. There was an uneasy and panicked feeling in your stomach as you frantically opened desk drawers and tore apart your bedroom looking for the only pictures you will ever have of her.

After Dean and Charlie dropped Bear off, it reminded you to look for them.

Life had been so busy since buying your home that you couldn’t remember the last time you had actually looked at those pictures and you were starting to wonder if they got lost in the move or if you put them in a “safe place” that was so safe, even you couldn’t find them.

You were starting to freak out, your jaw was so tight and rigid that your head was starting to hurt, and all other sounds had been blocked out by your drum-like heartbeat pounding loudly in your ears.

“Where could they be?!” You asked yourself in an anxious tone.

Because you were so preoccupied, you didn’t hear the knock on the door or when Dean called out to you in his deep gravelly voice.

“Sweetheart?! Y/N?! We’re back!” He said.

Charlie sounded excited to see Bear. “Hi Bear!”

You developed tunnel vision trying to find them and your cheeks flamed with anger but you didn’t want Charlie to see you upset so you composed yourself long enough to call out to them from the bedroom.

“Hey guys! How was the party?!” You asked.

Dean’s heavy footsteps could be heard coming from the living room. You could hear him step over the books and papers that were all over the floor.

“Hey baby, whaaaaat are ya doin’?” He asked, looking down at the mess you turned your bedroom into.

The tears that had formed were stinging the back of your eyes as you tried your hardest for them not to streak down your cheeks. You were in pain from kneeling on the hardwood floors practically all day, you felt mentally and physically exhausted, and you still couldn’t find the pictures of your mother.

Immediately, Dean called out to Charlie when he saw the look on your face.

“Charlie?!! I need to help y/n find something very important so take Bear back to our house and come back in like an hour with that box we picked up, ok?” Shouted Dean.

“Ok Dad! Come on, Bear.” Said Charlie.

As soon as you heard the door close behind them, Dean dropped to his knees, you burst into tears, and he tightly wrapped his arms around you to try and comfort you.

“Hey, hey, hey it’s ok. We’ll find them, baby. We’ll find them.” Dean said, calmly.

With your face buried in his chest, your tears fell into his shirt as you worriedly replied, “They’re all I have of her, Dean. I feel like I’ve looked everywhere!”

“Look at me, y/n.” He said as you looked up at him through your tear soaked lashes. “You haven’t looked everywhere. If you did, then you would have found them, ok? Let’s keep looking, come on.”

Dean helped you look inside of books, folders, drawers, cabinets, and basically anything that could be opened, he went over it with a fine-tooth comb and made sure he checked under and inside of everything.

As you continued to tear apart everything in your desk drawers, Dean walked over to your nightstand and looked inside. He pulled everything out, only to come up empty so he turned his attention to your bed.

As he lifted the mattress away from the box spring, he saw what looked like a journal and pulled it out. While thumbing through the pages, he came across a stack of photos tucked into pocket at the end.

The first picture he saw was of a baby girl dressed in pink from head to toe and her beautiful mother, with features similar to yours, fondly looking at her as she slept in her crib. He knew he had found them.

“Sweetheart…” Whispered Dean, holding the journal and waiting for you to look up at him.

Your eyes darted from his, down to his hands gently holding the journal and the photos were now sticking out from the top of the book for easy access.

It all came rushing back. You had kept your journal close during your long drive from Oklahoma to Colorado and after the movers unloaded your bed, you wanted to keep it in a safe place and close to you. But inside the nightstand wasn’t close enough so you placed it in between the mattress and the box spring for easy access for when you wanted to write in it.

When you first moved in, you wrote in your journal quite often, mostly about Dean and Charlie, but as you and Dean became closer, you didn’t write in it as much and very apparently forgot about it. But you remembered tucking the pictures in the back to “keep them safe.”

“Dean…you found them.” You said, taking the journal from him and removing the photos from the pages. “I don’t know what I would have—thank you for finding these.”

You snaked your arms around his neck, and without warning or hesitation, you aggressively pressed your lips to his which surprised him but only for a brief second before he returned your kiss and pulled your body in close so it was flush with his.

“You’re welcome, baby.” Said Dean with a warm smile.

He kissed you again.

Dean’s lips tasted like sugar and cherries and as you pulled away, you asked him through narrowed eyes, “Did you have cherry pie at that birthday party?”

Stumbling slightly over his words, he replied, “W-well, as a m-matter of fact, I did. The boys had cake and one of the mom’s m-made a cherry pie.”

After you touched your tongue to your top lip, you asked, “Lemme guess, she made it just for you.”

Dean blurted out, “NO!!” But his tone quickly changed and he retorted, “B-but s-she did offer me the first p-piece.”

“Of course she did.” You said with a wide smile.

Dean tried to flash you a quick cute smile which you found amusing.

“But baby, I—“ He started to say.

You interrupted him.

“Dean, it’s ok baby. I’m just messin’ with you.”

Looking down at the pile of pictures, you sat down on the bed and began thumbing through them to find your favorite one.

“This one’s my favorite.” You whispered, handing the picture to Dean.

It was of you and your mom with a birthday cake in front of you and the number “2” on top. Her long hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail and she had a purple turtleneck on. You couldn’t explain why it was your favorite, just that you really loved it.

“Look at you…so happy. And lucky me, I get to see that beautiful smile every day.” He said, brushing hair away from your face and giving you a kiss.

“Thank you, baby. Wait a minute…are you trying to distract me from the horny single mom that made you a pie?!” You asked.

“Depends…is it working?” Asked Dean.

“No.” You firmly replied.

He shrugged. “Worth a shot, I guess. Well, how ‘bout I only eat YOUR cherry pie?” He said with a sly smile and raised eyebrows.

“I’ve never made a cherry pie, Dean.” You said, desperately trying to keep a straight face.

“I think you missed my point, sweetheart. See, what I meant was—“ He started to say before you cut him off.

Laughing, you replied, “I know what you meant, baby. But before you can taste my cherry pie, I have to clean up the mess I made of my house plus Charlie is still awake.”

Dean playfully rolled his eyes.

“Okaaaaaaay. Later then.” He said, giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead.

**********

As you and Dean were cleaning and putting things back where they were supposed to be, you could feel him staring and stealing glances at you.

“I love you.” Said Dean, with a warm smile.

You smiled back and replied, “I love you too, Dean.”

“You should get a frame for a couple of those, especially your favorite.” He said, pointing at the photos on the bed.

“Maybe I will. That’s a good idea, baby.” You affirmed.

“Yeah, I’ll get one too for my picture and m-maybe we can put them n-next to one another…in the s-same house?” He asked nervously.

You froze. Heat rushed to your cheeks and your stomach dropped. Was Dean, in his own way, asking you to live with him?

“Dean? What are you saying?” You asked with a hitch in your voice.

“Move in with us, sweetheart.” He said, confidently. “Please?”

Your heart said yes a thousand times over, but your mouth was having trouble getting the words out. You were nervous. What if it didn’t work out? Someone else would be living in your house and you wouldn’t have it to go back to. Plus, you only just bought it a little over a year ago.

“But…what about my house? What if we don’t work out? What if—“ You started to say.

“Sam can rent the house. I’ve been buggin’ him ever since he left the last time to move out here so he can be closer to us. Charlie’s always so bummed out when he has to leave so it will be perfect if he lives next door.” Declared Dean.

Shocked, you finally blurted out, “Dean, are you really sure? Because I can forget you said any of this and we can go back to just—“

“You don’t think I’m serious?” He asked.

As you moved closer to him, you shook your head and replied, “No, it’s not that I don’t think you’re serious, baby. I just…I just wanna make sure that it’s what you really want because I love you and Charlie more than anything. And I will move in tomorrow as long as I know that both of you want me to.”

Suddenly, you heard the side door open and you heard Charlie’s voice coming from the kitchen and you could hear Bear’s nails clicking on the tile floor.

“Did you ask her yet, Dad?!!” Shouted Charlie.

Dean answered, “We’re in the bedroom, buddy.”

“You’re not naked, are you?” Charlie asked as you started to laugh.

“Coast is clear, Charlie. You can come back here.” You replied.

Charlie appeared in the doorway and Bear charged into the bedroom to say hello.

“Did she say yes, Dad? Or were you waiting for me to bring this over?” Asked Charlie, holding out a black velvet box.

You didn’t think you could be any more stunned than you already were.

“Please tell me there’s just a house key in there!” You exclaimed.

Charlie started to laugh.

“Don’t be silly, y/n. There’s a ring in there!” Charlie said with excitement.

You almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“CHARLIE!” Dean barked.

Slightly disappointed, Dean took the box from Charlie’s hand then got down on one knee.

“You deserve to have a proper proposal, sweetheart.” He said, opening the box and revealing a solitaire oval shaped diamond.

“Say yes!!” Yelled Charlie.

“Be patient, son. Y/n, I honestly never expected to do this again. I thought I had my one shot and that was it but when you moved in next door, everything changed. I was smiling and laughing again, I found someone who loved my son as their own, and I found someone who could understand all the pain and all the shit that I’ve been through because she’s been through it too. And I’d love for the name on the mailbox to match everyone in the house. I love you so much and was wondering if you would marry me…marry us.” Asked Dean with a hitch in his voice.

You looked over at Charlie whose smile was so big you could see all of his teeth and Bear next to him with his ears at attention. It brought tears to your eyes. When you moved here, you were just hoping to live a semi-normal life and that’s exactly what you got and more.

“Charlie? Are you sure this is ok with you?” You asked, shyly.

Charlie continued to smile and he replied, “Please say yes, y/n. Then you’ll be my bonus mom.”

“Oh Charlie…” You choked out.

Dean smiled and said, “I didn’t even tell him to say that. What do ya say, sweetheart?”

You’ve never been more excited to say the word “yes” in your entire life.

“I say yes!” You answered with excitement.

Dean slid the ring onto your finger and it fit perfectly. Charlie ran over to you, wrapped his arms around you, and squeezed as tight as he could. Even Bear was excited.

“How did you know what size ring to get, baby?” You asked.

He stood up, tilted your chin up so you were looking into his hypnotizing green eyes, and planted a soft kiss onto your lips.

“EW, DAD!” Said Charlie, shielding his eyes.

“While you were sleeping one night, I got up and traced the inside of one of the rings I see you wear all the time on that finger.” He said with confidence and so proud of himself.

Impressed, you replied, “Not bad, stud. Not bad.”

“Dad! Can we go home and call Uncle Sam? He can move here now that y/n is gonna live with us, right?!” Asked Charlie.

Dean turned to you and asked, “How ‘bout it, sweetheart? You ready to go…home?”

Charlie said, “Yeah, maybe you and Dad can move more furniture around like you did last night.”

You felt your whole face turn red and warmth rushed across your cheeks as soon as Charlie finished that sentence. Covering your eyes in embarrassment, you began to laugh nervously.

Completely mortified, you asked Charlie, “What makes you think we were moving furniture around, buddy?”

Dean nervously scratched his beard waiting for Charlie’s answer.

“Well, I heard the bed hit the wall a bunch of times and you must have liked where Dad put it, because I heard you say ‘YES! Right there.’ I thought maybe you just started the move early and I went back to sleep.” He said, so innocently.

“Oh she liked where I put it alright.” Dean said with a devilish smirk.

You playfully slapped him on the shoulder, “DEAN!”

“What does Dad mean, y/n?” Charlie asked.

“Nothing buddy, your dad is just trying to be funny.” You replied.

Slightly offended, Dean said, “What do ya mean TRYING to be funny? I’m damn funny.”

Charlie looked down at the bed and noticed the picture of you and your mother. He smiled, looked up at you, and said, “Your mom was pretty, y/n. You look just like her. I’ll make room for this picture on the mantle, ok?”

Charlie Winchester had your heart just as much as Dean did. And although it was a little different being with someone who had a child already, they made it easy to love them both and you couldn’t wait to start the next chapter as a wife, as a “bonus mom” and as a…Winchester.

You hugged him tightly and replied with a warm smile, “Thank you, Charlie.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @stoneyggirl2 @vaguekayla

Others that might enjoy: @k-marzolf @jvanilly @fluffyprettykitty @deans-spinster-witch @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @savorxe

If you would like to be added to(or removed from) my tag list(s) for this smexy Winchester, just let me know!

[saltyowlets]

Companion!Cullen Precursor: Romance

I know I haven't touched Companion!Cullen for a long bit, mostly cause I've been thinking about my own Cullavellan and tackling his redemption in their story but I do want to comeback to it, especially now.

So heres a small tidbit of what I eventually want to tackle: Companion!Cullen romance.

I know it's a small point of contention, whether Cullen should have had a romance or not, with all there considering his lyrium addiction and his PTSD. I am on the side that a romance is possible, but to have a satisfying and redemptive end for Cullen, it would require some leg work for that romance that we just aren't provided in game.

So, in order to mitigate this, I propose that in Companion!Cullen's romance is similar to a secret romance that is only accessible by very specific and pro mage means.

For starters, I do not think him being a romance while still being pro Circle or pro Templar is healthy, if anything, it may even be a detriment to his growth. Cullen is a man who needs to be challenged to fully change. I'm not saying that he couldn't change to be better on his own. He definitely has the ability to. However, we are looking for full redemptive Cullen in the DAI narrative. How does this work with Companion!Cullen specifically?

Approval system. Or rather, something similar to the rivalry system.

I think in order to access Cullen's redemption and subsequent romance, you have to challenge him, gain disapproval. There would be prompts that involve choosing pro mage choices, conversation prompts with Cullen that challenge and maybe accuse him of the things that happened in Kirkwall. This becomes the precursor to Cullen's deprogramming. If you keep gaining approval and do not challenge him, this only just leads to Cullen on the path of feeling justified by his pro Circle sentiments. He will still sympathize with the mages/apostates and will lament and regret how he acted but he will still remain adamant that the Templars are necessary or, at the very least, a justification.

Continuous disapproval will lead to specific scenes, depending on choices, that allow you to get Cullen to open up and discuss what happened in Kinhold and Kirkwall. There may some flirt lines but nothing that would seem like you forgive him but reach an understanding. Eventually, you gain approval with Cullen from these scenes as it becomes reflective that 1. He is changing, 2. He appreciates that you are challenging and not just excusing his actions because that is who Cullen is. He is a man who knew he did wrong and does not want to be easily forgiven.

Anyways, this is what I have so far but I'll eventually write more. Feel free to let me know what you think!

[shakingparadigm]

I appreciate that they pulled out guitar till one last time

[ohsweetflips]

my neutral dragon age trait is that 50% of the time i'm like "the more i critique the games, the more i love them. i can appreciate each game for what they are but my criticism and frustration over what they could be are a sign of love" and the other 50% is like "this is the writing of the dragon age series. sure. why not. this may as well happen."

[milfbrainrot]

admittedly we do not know anything abt most of the new characters yet and assuming she's not in LoL that includes Maddie but it is... a lil odd to see infantilization of her at this stage.

I get she seems like a ray of sunshine character so far but "girl has no idea what martial law means 💔" kind of jokes are making me think abt how if maddie IS just a naive enforcer thinking she's doing good for piltover, she'd still... know what martial law and fascism etc entail. She'd just think those things are Good and Just!

Idk not to take jokes too seriously but there's something interesting abt what makes a character complicit in horrors esp when they seem so nice, and I feel like that's kinda being brushed aside w the interpretations that she is just an oblivious kid... esp since those jokes are about the scene where she's supporting Cait's dictatorship promotion which is after she's literally been in Zaun with her gassing people lmao.

She knows what's going on. Her framing of it is just extremely biased. Maybe a bit naive of her if so, but not stupid yknow.