#masculinity is also the energy of out and upwards

[abductedlawnchair]

I'm a nonbinary trans man.

Growing up, I raised myself as a boy, despite society and my former religion trying to raise me otherwise. I vehemently hated all things pink and girly. I didn't want anything that was "for girls". I consumed and internalized cartoons where the main characters were boys that seemed disgusted by girls or avoided anything "girly" at all costs. A lot of those ideals of masculinity and what a boy was "supposed" to be, I internalized that. Despite not coming out as trans until I was 20, I really protested the fact that I was a girl in a way that reflected the toxic, right-wing idea of masculinity that I observed through media and school. I said "tomboy", because I didn't have any better word for it.

After coming out socially and to myself, I realized how messed up that idea was. I started thinking about what being a masculine person really meant to me. If my inner child was really allowed to be who he was without being told "You're a girl, but girls are actually inferior, but you're stuck as one anyways even though that's not who you are inside".

And funnily enough, the first thing I thought about was the way that I love. My tender heart sparks the desire to protect and care for what I love. In the purest, most wholesome, boyish way. In the way that I would go out of my way and do anything for my beloved, to the best of my abilities. And it may end up being clumsy and imperfect and maybe while building a shelter for her, I injured my thumb with a hammer, and maybe some boards are uneven, but with my eyebrows furrowed in determination and my heart full of love, I build her a shelter nonetheless. Because I love her and want her to be safe and cared for.

Then showering my beloved with gifts because I want her to be happy and comfortable just as much as safe. Filling her water bottle and microwaving her food and running downstairs to grab the thing she forgot. Putting her shoes on for her and opening jars and lifting that heavy box or carrying the heavier groceries. All with love in my heart.

Then there's the boyish love for life. Muddy feet and stupid ideas and fart jokes. Building contraptions and throwing rocks and roughhousing. Crying and laughing when I scrape my knee because it was really funny the way I fell, but it also really hurt. And because it's okay for boys to cry. Because, in all reality, all of this is just... human.

Masculinity is simply one way to experience humanity. The tenderness of a masculine heart can move mountains with the determination it creates.

As long as we associate masculinity and discussions about masculinity and/or manhood with patriarchal, right-wing ideals or figureheads, we will never have a healthy outlook on masculinity and manhood.

This is precisely why I talk so much about trans manhood and masculinity. We need to move away from hegemonic, right-wing ideas of manhood and masculinity. To other trans people, trans men, transmasculine folk, whomever wishes to contribute to conversations about this, I think your voice matters. This, of course, applies not just to transness but also to race, sexuality, expression, and broader cultural understandings of manhood and masculinity. We need as many different voices speaking up about manhood and masculinity lest we go right back to the same patriarchal ideals that we are (trying to, at least) moving away from.

[loveemagicpeace]

⭐️Venus and your beauty

☁️Let's talk about Venus signs and appearance. Because Venus also shows through beauty and your beautiful body or how people see your beauty or how they find you beautiful. ☁️

💘Venus in Sagittarius- ruler of sag is jupiter. These people have a blessing with their bodies and appearance usually all of people find them beautiful and attractive. They also have a lot of nice accessories or jewelries. They have a well-shaped body. People appreciate their energy, optimism, growth, wisdom&how they can give life to everything they touch. They like to dress to stand out or to be special. There is usually always some meaning behind how they dress.

💙Venus in Scorpio- have some secretive beauty. People find them mysterious but very beautiful and a lot of people find them sexual attractive. I also noticed that a lot of people have very dark and big eyes or when you look at them you see this mystery in them. They have a high cheekbones and pointy chins. People appreciate trust, secrets, honesty on them. They usually dress very seductively.

💋Venus in Pisces- these people usually look like Angels or have this unusual but very pretty body like fairy tales. They have huge puppy eyes. They often look like someone from a cartoon. Very sweet and nice people. Also very artistic. People appreciate their way of understanding and how open and soft they are.

🧊Venus in Capricorn-these people have emphasized bones on their body. Many times Saturn can take away the beauty they desire. The eyes are big, the jaw is pointy and V-shaped. Their way of dressing is usually business-like. People appreciate how responsible and independent they are.

🧁Venus in Virgo- they usually have very nice body and very nice skin -like glowy skin or oil skin. I always see those people have very nice body especially around the waist. But they can be very insecure about their body and appearance actually. For some reason I noticed that they usually don’t like to show their body and they can be very critical about how they look like. Many times they dress in a way that the colors of the clothes match.

☕️Venus in Taurus- many times they have a more muscular body and many times they are stronger. They have a nice neck. They tend to look beautiful in natural colors or without make up. Earth tones like nude, and natural shades of pink and soft flesh tones suit them beautifully. They also could have specific way of how they dress and usually they have the same style always. They don't like to change it.

🥤Venus in Gemini- Their beauty preferences may lean towards trendy and versatile styles. Usually they have long eyes which are lifted upwards and lined with fluttery lashes. They often have thin, heart-shaped faces, rounded brows, and pointy-tipped noses. They change a lot of how they dress.

🌸Venus in Cancer- they usually have baby face. I always notice that they have big eyes, many times hypnotic & blue. Many times they look more gentle or have gentle features. They usually dress like a mom or have mom clothes or more parental. They like comfortable clothes and many times also shirts with cartoon characters on them. People appreciate their kindness and nurturing energy.

🪴Venus in Aquarius- usually they have strange beauty or unusual. People either love it or not. Many times I notice that they have an unusual style that is completely their own. People like how free they are and how open they are.

🪁Venus in Aries- usually are known for their strong, arched brows. Many times you can see their energy, which is playful. They have a much more masculine or athletic figure. They could dress in like very fiery and outstanding way. Actually don't care what people think about their styles. Because they have their own style and they are proud of it. People appreciate their fire ,Independence and fearlessness.

🏹Venus in Leo- Their hair is many times the size of a lion's mane. They usually have a strong jaw. Many times I also notice that they have cat eyes. I don't know why, but men often look like they have enhanced eyes. They also have a very fiery and outstanding way of styling their clothes. Also a lot of times they have cartoon t-shirts or t-shirts with description of it. But also usually they like to wear black clothes or styling a lot with black color.

🛼Venus in Libra- have a large and wide forehead, wide-set eyes, and a dazzling smile. Many times I notice that they like a simple style of dressing. Usually they have a lot of cosmetic surgeries. Usually they wear pink clothes or more brighter clothes. People value their kindness, honesty, and sociability.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

🫧Ig-bekylibra🫧

-Rebekah🦋🩵🎆

[neymiiie]

Eyes of the SEES members ~

I’ve always admired artstyles where every character has super unique and recognizable vibes, so decided to try it with the gang. Super fun, highly recommend!

In the process of designing these I developed headcanons for each of their eyes, kind weird but if you want to read me ranting about why I drew Yukaris pupils a certain way or whatever, feel free to click read more lol.

Makoto: I wanted him to look tired, so a lot of his eyelashes go downward instead of upwards, also eye bags because he has insomnia and you can’t convince me otherwise. I didn’t want his eyes to look hollow/empty, but I didn’t want to put super obvious highlights and I think it works? Idk. Also drew his eyes in a way that reminds me of the ocean at night (Atlus gave me a ocean/water motif and I run with it ok?). His eyebrows are kinda “messy” in comparison to the others but I think it makes his eyes prettier so it is in character to me.

Yukari: I wanted her eyes to look a little more intense and turned them a little to give them a slightly “angry look”. Yukari should have a light case of rbf imo. I feel like Yukari puts a lot of effort into her appearance, and she probably wears more makeup but I cannot draw that to save my life lmao. Her eyebrows are probably the least messy other than Mitsurus, for the same reason as the previous one. Also hard to tell, but I put hearts in her pupils because it’s cute. Really proud of these ones, they read like hers so well to me.

Junpei: Junpeis eyes were so fun to draw! I feel like he’d have pretty short lashes and slightly smaller eyes, but still very vibrant! I really wanted his eyes to look full of life but still pretty simple, and I think I did pretty well! They feel very expressive to me. Also I feel like he’d have naturally very thin eyebrows, so gave him that lol.

Akihiko: idk how I feel about these, but I guess they’re alright? Gave him a kinda intense stare ig. I gave him really long natural eyelashes because I feel like he’d have them (canonical pretty boy that he is) and I’m somewhat proud of them because I stuggle with making longer eyelashes look masculine so guess this is a win. Gave him an eyebrow slit because I was so sure he had one in p4arena only to find out he didn’t even have eyebrows in it. What.

Fuuka: I feel like Fuukas neutral expression would still look slightly confused/concerns so her eyes are a little droopy. Gave her short but thick eyebrows because I thought it would be cute. Her eyes kinda remind me of rain and I like that! Also sidenote love the fact that official art draws fuuka with teal eyebrows. The implication that she was either born with teal hair or is so dedicated to the dye job she even dyed her eyebrows is hilarious to me. I know blue is treated as a normal hair color in persona-universe but Fuuka is literally the only one with teal hair how is it not dyed but yosuke and chies is??

Mitsuru: I wanted Mitsuru to be pretty. I gave her thinner but crisp eyebrows and eyeliner. I was a little worried because before I started shading her eyes looked kinda evil?? Lol but they turned out better in the end. Didn’t do a lot of details in her eyes because it felt like it worked better that way, but gave her bright highlights in her eyes to make up for it.

Aigis: These are my least favorite, and the first ones I did. Not sure if thats awful, because I wanted them to be very different from the rest. I feel like Aigis doesn’t actually have this wide eyes but willingly widens them so you can see the whole iris. I feel like her eyes would look more normal at a distance, and most of her classmates just assume she’s got weird eyes because they’re an uncommon eye color (major “give her brown contacts please” energy). Made her eyes look like does target-thingys and slightly plastic-y.

Ken: I didn’t want his eyes to be to bright, but still lively and childish. I gave him round wide eyes + smaller and thicker eyebrows to give a more childish feel. His eyelashes are pretty short but made them point more downwards since they looked too cheerful when turned upwards.

Shinjiro: dunno how readable these are as shinji, but theyre fine. Made his eyes very dark and put bright highlights cause I thought it looked better than the grey he actually has. Also gave him major eyebags because man has not had a good nights rest since like. Last October (sorry)

[santoschristos]

Chinnamasta ॐ Tantric goddesses and a ferocious aspect of Devi, the Hindu Divine Mother.

Goddess Chinnamasta - “She Whose Head is Cut Off”

Chinnamasta, a Hindu Goddess and the sixth cosmic wisdom in Dus Mahavidya, is visually fierce but spiritually evolved, tender and compassionate sixteen year old who cuts her own head to feed the ones who come to her by granting them protection and fulfilment.

Spiritually, “She whose head is cut off” represents the unlimited capacity of transcending the mind and be absorbed in the Supreme Void of the Absolute Divine Consciousness. Further, it also implies transcending the mind by separating from identity or ego.

Though visually ferocious, like Kali, her divine and electrifying personality reveals the uniqueness of the infinite divine consciousness, that is nameless, formless and limitless, holding a pure vision that goes beyond any veil of ignorance resulting in thundering spiritual transformation. Hence, Chinnamasta is called Prachanda Chandika, identifying herself with the most terrible form of Kali, which is Chandi.

Due to her association with the ascending energy through Sushumna Nadi, Chinnamasta is also correlated with the subtle energy causing the ascension of Kundalini Shakti and the deep transformation of the human being. There are in fact three streams of blood coming out from Chinnamasta’s throat: a central stream that she herself drinks, and two other placed on the left and on the right sides of this central stream, signifying the energies from ida nadi and pingala nadi, drunk by the two yoginis Dakini and Varini.

In the Pranamayakosha or the energy body, there are 72,000 nadis, pathways

Of energy or prana in the system. The 72,000 nadis spring from three basic nadis – the left, the right and the central – the Ida, Pingala, and Sushumna.

Ida, the feminine representing the moon, is the left channel. It originates in Muladhara, Ida ends up in the left nostril.

Pingala, the masculine representing the sun, is the right channel. It originates in Muladhara, Pingala ends up in the right nostril.

Sushumna is the central channel through which Kundalini moves upwards running up the body from just below Muladhara chakra to Sahasrara chakra at the crown of the head, thus energising the seven chakras.

The ability to balance Ida and Pingala, and cause Prana to flow in Sushumna results in an inner balance where whatever happens outside, there is a certain space within you which never gets disturbed and scale up the peaks of consciousness.

Shreem Hreeem Kleem Ain Vajra Vairochinayee Hum Hum Phat Swaha.

Recitation of this mantra can help practitioners to reach higher states of consciousness, illuminate higher wisdom and call forth the blessings of Lakshmi. It can be chanted for success in business, wealth, marriage and health, and is said to bring harmony and happiness to its practitioners.

[taurussoulastrology]

'The ancients' considered the zodiac to be the 'Soul of Nature'. Understanding the zodiacal energy patterns, but also the archetypal energy can help us understand ourselves and our consciousness better. Every modality and sign represents their own energy pattern that we vibe.

●Cardinal signs, are a centrifugal (spinning energy like a blood centrifuge machine)radiating outward energy that moves in a definite direction ↔️(future- present- past);

》Aries & Libra(positive/masculine) are concerned with action in the present and thinking forward & moving towards the future. Aries 'spiritedly' moves directly forward. Libra 'mentally' moves directly forward.

》Capricorn & Cancer (negative/feminine) radiate that same centrifugal energy spinning or radiating the energy inwards and towards the past. Capricorn 'physically' moves with direct attention to the past. Cancer 'emotionally' moves directly with attention to the past.

●Fixed signs, they represent a centripetal energy that radiates inwards towards a center, it's associated with principles of inertia which is also known to give them great powers of concentration & perseverance. The fixed signs are energetically most centered on the here & now. People with the Sun in a fixed sign are literally born with such an intuitive sense of depth and power of the soul or spirit within them, they actually dubbed the fixed signs as "the gates of the avatar" & are the key symbols of the major initiations of the soul. This concentrated energy also brings the fixed signs a potential for concentrated consciousness!》Taurus, Scorpio(negative- feminine) more connected with the past, Taurus 'physically' spirals into itself and down. Scorpio 'emotionally' spirals into itself and down. 》Aquarius, Leo,(positive- masculine) more connected to the future. Aquarius 'mentally' spirals into itself and up. Leo 'spiritedly' spirals into itself and up.

●Mutable Signs, their energy is spiralic patterns. 》Pisces connects to past karmic energy & Virgo spiral towards the ground and are associated with the past crises with development of the personality. Virgo physically spirals outward and down. Pisces 'emotionally' spirals out and down. 》 Gemini & Sagittarius spirals upwards and forward toward the future, with Sagittarius having an increase with prophetic tendencies and Gemini with their endless future speculations. Gemini 'mentally' - Sagittarius 'spiritedly'

So learning how the patterns of the energies of the signs work, it can help you learn more about yourself and how your energy is working for you. Especially your Sun! But the moon, rising, Mercury, Venus and Mars signs(Personal planets and angles too) can help you learn why your always stuck in the past or full of anxiety about the future. Or how you can manipulate energy to better yourself mentally and physically.

Say you have a Cancer Moon in the 9h you're going to have that connection to the past but with prophetic tendencies so pay attention to your dreams! Or maybe you have a Taurus Sun in the 8h you will have access to not only an earthly, physical inner power, but one connected to emotion and the past. Mercury in an air sign but water house, think of the communication you can make with other realms! The combinations are endless. Learn how your main energies work and maybe learn how to control your consciousness, just think of the possibilities!

#AstrologyCommunity #astrologyobservations #zodiacfacts #zodiacalenergy

#energy #vibes

[sweetlittlebabyboy]

Change: Caleb/Arden

@cxncordia

It’s been six months since little Caleb realized that he wasn’t human; six months since he very nearly blinded the men who assaulted him when they were suppose to protect him and six months since his mutant gene was activated. For the past six months, he was adjusting to his new life as a mutant. He was adjusting to the world wide hate and prejudice for mutants, but he also found what he had spent his whole life looking for; home and family. In the last six months, Caleb was given a place to call home, where he could learn about and control his gifts. Along with that, he was given a family who could truly understand him. While it did have it’s hardships, Caleb found the peace he was so desperately looking for. There was something else the little red head found. Well, not something else.........someone else.

His name, well his code name to the humans anyways, was Ardent. It was a name that symbolized and embodied his gifts over the element of inferno. The man had a powerful presence that commanded attention, and his mastery over fire and his telekinetic abilities was quite the site to watch. He had saved the human race countless times; some thanked him with gratitude, others with prejudice and hatred. That was the life of a mutant, especially the life of an X-Man, a member of an elite fighting squad of mutants that battled against the forces that vowed to one day take dominion over the earth.

Ardent was one of many X-Men, and as these mutants saved the world from danger yet again. The students of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters watched with pride as their elders and mentors won the praise of the world over. Caleb was one of those students, and his eyes were glued to the tall and handsome mutant who wielded the power of fire on the channel five news, that's because he was the pretty boy's favorite. Caleb couldn't help but blush when saw Ardent wrapped in fiery blaze. To Caleb, it made him even more alluring than he already was. Of course, Caleb knew him by his real name, they all did, Arden Martin. For the past few months, there was something growing between the young mutant and the gifted X-Man. It was subtle, but between the two of them, something was there. They both knew it.

The way they looked at each other, whether it be side eyes or straight forward, it was always long and very intense. It was like the two of them were speaking without even talking. What was the most telling between the two of them was their energies. Arden's energy was very powerful, dominant and obviously masculine. He was a big strong man after all. Caleb, on the other hand, was very different. He was much smaller in size, and his nature was more gentle and submissive. Some would even say feminine. Alpha and omega, dominant and subservient, masculine and feminine. The story of these two polar opposite energies was as old as time and memoriam, and it was playing it's story out yet again, this time using Arden and Caleb as the respectable hosts for these two polar opposite energies.

It was quite the difficult battle to watch between the X-Men and the Brotherhood of Mutants. One group fought to annihilate the homosapiens while the other fought to protect it. The brotherhood really put up a good fight this time, but as always, The X-Men were victorious. The world thanked the X-Men and the students at the academy jumped for joy. Caleb was thrilled too, but he was more focused on his favorite X-Man. Ardent put up an amazing fight today, and Caleb was going to show him his gratitude. When the elite fighting squad came back to head quarters, all the students waited for them. While the others gave their praise to Wolverine and Cyclops, Caleb was focused on one man and one man only, the champion of fire. Caleb just stood there and looked upon his hero. The boy was particularly beautiful today: dressed in his usual hue of pink, he was practically glowing. He looked upwards, staring at the tall and incredibly handsome man. He looked incredible in his battle suit. As always, the stare was intense, and today, they finally did something about it.

Quickly finding a place where they wouldn't be disturbed, Caleb gave into his urges and feelings. With incredible passion, Caleb wrapped his arms around the taller man's neck and gave him a kiss. The kiss they shared was beautiful. What Caleb gave Arden was incredible passion. It was clear that what was growing between them was powerful. Caleb had wanted this for so long, and yet, suddenly, he came to a stop. Placing his hand on Arden's upper chest, Caleb calmed himself as he looked up at that handsome face and into those dark brown eyes.

" Arden.....there's something you need to know." Caleb said with a voice that was riddled with anxiety. " I'm....I'm different, Arden. I'm.....I'm not like other guys....I want you to know before we.....go any further." Caleb was nervous, but he said what he needed to say. Now it was up to Arden to take it to the next level.

[theeclecticwitchblog240]

~~~An in depth guide to the element Air~~~

~~A BOS Entry~~

Air is the spark of inspiration and the beginning of new ideas. It is the first step of progress in a journey. Air rules the intellectual and mental, as well as knowledge and learning. Air represents life in the soul's journey.

Air represents the intellectual aspect of ourselves, and therefore Air magic focuses on mental abilities like visualization, as well as expanding your knowledge by reading lots of books and researching things on your own. Air also has a strong association with divination and prophecy, and is represented by the suit of Swords in the tarot deck. Air works in harmony with the other elements: it moves earth, fuels fire, makes clouds (water), and it is our breath that is essential for life. Air is always moving, never still, and never in solid physical form. Air is versatile, quick, moving quickly from one idea to the next.

Air is considered a Masculine element.

~~~AIR ASSOCIATIONS~~~

~~Direction~~East

~~Substance~~wind, mist, clouds, spirit, fog, aether, hurricane, tornado

~~Movement~~projection, outwards and upwards

~~Magickal tools~~wand, incense, feathers (for smudging or incense), bell, athame

~~Magickal properties~~communication, travel, whimsy, writing, activation, movement, business contracts/agreements, mental strength and memory purification

~~Colors~~white, silver, pale yellow

~~Time of day~~dawn

~~Season~~spring

~~Zodiac~~Libra, Aquarius, Gemini

~~Planets~~Jupiter, Mercury

~~Plants & Herbs~~anise, birch, cedar, fennel, lemongrass, violet, primrose

~~Magickal creatures~~sylphs, Pegasus, dragons, fairies, phoenix

~~Animals~~bees, butterflies, dragonflies, all birds (especially: owl, eagle, hawk)

~~Deities~~Aradia, Mercury, Thoth, Urania, Boreas, Arianrhod

~~Crystals & stones~~moonstone, citrine, diamond, blue aventurine, topaz, and any that increase clarity, focus, intuition, or intellect

~~Places~~mountain-tops, prairies and plains, cloudy skies; places involved with intellectual pursuits such as libraries and schools; places involved in travel, like airports or train stations ~~Musical instruments~~flutes, wind chimes, all wind instruments

~~~Examples of Air Magick, Spells, and Rituals~~~

Air spells don't have to be complicated, unless you want them to be. Here are some easy ways to cast air spells and harness the energy of the Air element~~

~~burn incense as an offering to gods/guides/guardians, and to manifest your intentions

~~learn astrology, familiarise yourself with your horoscope and what's going on in the stars

~~meditation~~any form, any length of time, it's all Air magic!

~~write your air spell on a piece of paper, and let it blow away in the wind

~~write your wish in the air using a lit stick of incense, and watch the smoke drift away ~~smudge your home with burning herbs to rid it of negativity

~~blow a dandelion head and make a wish

~~learn to read tarot or oracle cards

~~visualization~~practice visualizing things to see them clearly in your mind; use this skill to enhance your spells

~~storm magick~~harnessing the energy of a storm to manifest your air spell

~~learn numerology

~~cloud scrying~~divination using the patterns in clouds to tell the future

~~cloud bursting~~moving air with the power of your mind whispering air spells into the wind working with air element fairies and spirits

~~~Air Meditation~~~

Feel the air that you breathe. Your breath goes in and out, deeply and fully. Breathe to the very bottom of your stomach, feeling your body expand as you breathe in and feel yourself relax with each breath out.

When you Begin to feel your body growing lighter and brighter with each breath, breathe in a glowing white light, and see yourself slowly becoming the glowing white light with each breath, little by little.

In your minds eye, see your body dissolving away like smoke in the wind. Leaving only your consciousness and spirit. Feel yourself drawn upwards on currents of Air. You float in the sky, surrounded by the brilliance of the Sun and clouds. With each breath you grow lighter and brighter, until you shine like the sun, filled with radiant golden and silver light.

You are made of Air, you are an idea, a passing thought, a dream of inspiration. You see the limitless possibilities of Air. Feel free to spend some time here exploring this element in this meditation. Go ahead and give yourself permission to spend as much time as possible. Building a connection with each element individually will better help strengthen your workings as well in the future when you decide to work with a certain element in particular.

When you are ready to end the meditation, you can begin to feel yourself growing heavier, as you breathe, slowly return to your physical form once again. Feel your body becoming solid as the earth. Feel the warmth of your fiery spirit. Feel the blood coursing through your veins. When your ready go ahead and open your eyes and feel free to move around once again. You are now balanced with the four elements.

Hope this in~depth guide to the element Air helps you along your path. Feel free to add or change this to better suit you. Yes this is more in~depth than other posts however this is intended to help inspire you to do more studying into the elements.

Thank you for reading,

Blessed be!

[ghffr-s]

About Women Deserving Better

“Half a drink will not quench your thirst, Half a meal will not satiate your hunger” - Khalil Gibran

The thing about women deserving better is that they haven't really had the experience, but they are the most deserving of love because of the way they give love. You wonder, "Why wouldn't a person this dedicated to love ever experience love that was healthy?," as you watch them love persistently and patiently. “They want affection, isn't that it? How come it couldn't be better for them?”

Humans are energy vampires. Sometimes we take life from others for our own gain. Take the exchange of affection, transaction in a relationship as an example. We must reciprocate with as much affection as we desire to receive it. What transpires, however, when you don't have to offer much in order to receive a lot of love? You begin to feel at ease. When you are aware that the person who loves you has plenty of it to spare, it provides comfort. But expressing too much love can drain their vitality. When you take too much of someone's love, you also take too much of the life they have in them. What happens when love and energy are transferred to you? You will feel at your best. Everything feels good and this affection gives you self-assurance. Knowing that someone will always love you, no matter what the cost, gives you a sense of security. You are protected. More than you realise, someone loves you. And because we are flawed as humans, this almost always works out to be unhealthy. The life a person have in them will perish if there is no balance with reciprocation. 

Can you fathom how this would have hurt you if you were the one doing the giving? It fucks with your mental. If you have enough willpower, it wouldn't take you long to realise that you deserve better and leave. However, what if you crave affection and are only willing to tolerate the barest minimum from others? You stay. By staying, you ride an emotional roller coaster where your person serves as the rail track and you as the coaster. The direction is determined by your partner, but the moving motion represents love. He controls the upward and downward slopes, swirls, and 360-degree turns on his rail track, and you follow the planned rail track. You experience many spirals in a non-reciprocal partnership. Once the roller coaster stops, your mind buffers and you are able to gather yourself after being exhausted by the wind and the pace of the spirals. Sometimes you exit the relationship feeling depleted of love and emptiness. Sometimes there is no more affection to share. 

Do men realise that the women they don't deserve are typically the ones who deserve better? Do men acknowledge the unconditional nature of a woman's love? As delicate beings, we are compelled to release our masculine energy when we are pushed past the point where our strength barrier is broken, and this is almost always unhealthy. However, many men who may have taken this love for granted don't realise the value of reciprocity until the relationship has ended and they realise that the love is irreversible. And once they see that love is gone, it will be clear, particularly in the little things.

Then, women will understand that they actually deserve better. In an effort to have the world provide us with the love we deserve, we begin to manifest it. We begin searching for a body that will house a soul that will love us sufficiently and appropriately. But even on this voyage, there are numerous challenges we must overcome. Those challenges are always the result of our past traumas, grievances, and suffering brought on by our excessive love for the wrong person. These challenges act as roadblocks in our lives, preventing us from pursuing romantic partnerships. In terms of who I choose to interact with, even on a casual basis, I became more reserved and selective. Let alone romantically. Therefore, after exhausting all options, we on the giving end usually find ourselves on our own for a while. For me personally, being alone would be preferable to taking another chance at it all. I'll hold out for the right person. But what happens if they don't show up? The loneliness begins to consume me. When I don't have a special someone to experience most of life and the moments with, my life starts to get quiet. Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months, and months turn into years. We eventually become mentally numb after a while. 

I suddenly find that I no longer yearn for love when I wake up one day. I don't spend as much time thinking about it anymore, and I have fewer thoughts of affection. I only have thoughts of myself. What will I cook today, who among my good friends am I going to see this week, and what is my goal for this month? Life started to revolve around me once more, but this time I am sore.

The sad part is, I’m growing comfortable with this emotional numb. I can almost say that I love it. 

[narrans]

#4: “Shoulder or pocket, your choice.”

PROMPT

“Shoulder or pocket, your choice.”

Living Art

Instruments lined the walls, strings and percussion alike. The metronome next to the window stood silent watch next to the sleek black grand piano. There were a couple of chairs nearby but, otherwise, the only other piece of furniture in the room was a mahogany desk.

The desk was usually covered with dozens of blank sheet music scores, scraps of paper, and fountain pens accompanied by their bottles of ink. That’s not what was on the desk now.

Instead, there was a lone figure.

Neomaya paced back and forth across the surface of the desk. She wrung her hands on way, and then the other way. She didn’t remember the last time she was this nervous.

Well…

That wasn’t true…

She did remember one specific time – the day she was taken to her new home.

She stood on the same desk where she first met… him – Nathaniel Eragon.

Nathaniel Eragon was a tall, lanky man with thick, dark and curly auburn hair that was about shoulder length. His features were almost over exaggeratedly thin. He had narrow lips that formed a thin line on his face when he was wrestling with something but didn’t want to say.

The musician carried a whimsical, quick-witted energy that lurked beneath his reserved exterior. He often wore button down shirts with rolled up sleeves, revealing a few subtle tattoos he often kept private.

His most notable feature, however, was his honey-colored eye.

This is what threw Neomaya off the most when she first met him.

The one eye.

Evidently, when he was young, he had an accident which took his right eye. Now, he wore an eyepatch to cover up what would undoubtedly make other uncomfortable.

Neomaya hated that people would see him and be uncomfortable with him, especially after she got to know him. He was very sweet and generous, soft spoken and very encouraging when given the correct circumstances.

She didn’t know that when she was presented to him.

She stopped pacing and closed her eyes to remember that day.

~~~^*^*^~~~

The box she was in rattled and shook around her. They came directly from the Facility and were going to her supposed forever home. Neomaya was a pet, a biologically engineered entity derived directly from the human race. Fully sentient with no autonomy, but that’s how things were.

She was small of stature, barely above four and a half inches, and had mousey brown hair the frizzed out at the ends. Slate black eyes and pale, cream-colored skin, Neomaya’s appearance wasn’t the only thing that set her apart from other pets.

She also received special conditioning, which was why she came directly from the Facility. Neomaya was registered as a therapy pet, meaning she was especially obedient, highly empathetic, and intuitive.

Neomaya wasn’t sure why she was purchased, but she did know that the family seemed especially concerned about who she was being given to. She was tossed from side to side in the box, quietly listening to the chatter on the outside.

“Mom, I know this is a good idea. Trust me! He’s been so down and out lately. Having a pet will give him something to do,” said the woman who purchased Neomaya.

“I understand what you’re trying to do for your brother. It’s just…” said an older woman.

“It’s just nothing. He’s going to accept his new pet, love it, and thank me later for it.”

More jostling and the sounds of footsteps. The quick, jolting upward told the pet they were going up stairs. There was furious knocking on the door. From where she was, Neomaya could already feel the chill of the late autumn air seeping in through the cracks in the box and through the air holes at the top of the box.

The door opened and a soft, deep voice with a hint of masculine gravel greeted the two humans at the door. Neomaya was shaking and too focused on maintaining her neutral disposition to hear what it was they were talking about.

All she knew was that the top of the box was suddenly thrown open and a female hand engulfed her entire frame with little to no effort. She was lifted out of the box and suddenly placed on a mahogany surface. She stumbled a few steps before looking up into the singular honey-colored eye of a very thin man in his late twenties.

Instantly, she used her training and stood at her trained “attention” stance, shoulders relaxed, head down with gaze averted, straight back, and no fidgeting. Long fingers suddenly came into her field of vision. Instinctively, she tensed, but the fingers only rested near her.

“Katherine, what did you do?” he asked, voice sounding tired and annoyed.

“I got you a pet. Now you have something other than your booze to entertain,” snarked Katherine, the woman who purchased Neomaya.

“You make it sound like I’m an alcoholic,” he muttered as he walked way, which released the tension in Neomaya’s shoulders immensely. She dared to glance up and watch what was about to happen. “And I don’t need a pet. I told you. I’m grieving. That’s all.”

“Great! And a pet will help you get back to normal,” replied Katherine. When the man gave no response, she huffed a sigh and approached. “Nathaniel, listen. We’re worried about you. Right mom? We are all worried about you. You’re obviously exhausted. You obviously aren’t eating, at least not well. You aren’t even writing music for Heaven’s sake! Music is your life, and you’re not even doing that. I know Liberty was a little more than a friend, but…”

At the mention of this name, Nathaniel whipped around, a fierce and deep seeded anger in his face. “Don’t…”

Katherine rolled her eyes and walked toward the door.

“Mom is in the car. We were going to invite you to lunch, but you should get yourself together. Seriously, Nathaniel. I know it’s only been six months, but this isn’t healthy.” With that, Katherine left the two of them alone.

Nathaniel’s posture shifted from hostile to slumped, despondent. He walked over and hopped up on top of the piano, which Neomaya only now noticed, and he laid back to stare at the ceiling.

He said nothing.

He barely acknowledged her existence.

An hour passed while Neomaya waited patiently for some sort of order. Her training taught her that. It didn’t stop her from looking around the room cautiously. It was beautiful and spacious, instruments clinging to stands and hooks on the walls. There were frames of what looked like awards, but the pet would need to get closer to read what they actually were.

Another hour had almost completed when Nathaniel pushed himself up, walked over to the desk, and plopped down in the chair across from Neomaya. She held deathly still as she stood there, waiting for him to issue some kind of command or to start messing with her. It was what they said would happen during her conditioning after all.

She heard him click his tongue just before speaking.

“I have no idea why she brought you here to me. Kat always thinks she knows best,” he sighed. His finger suddenly came into view and rested on the top of her shoes before retracting and pointing at her attire. “Kat probably dressed you like that. Skin-tight uniform. At least the colors suit you. White and sky blue. You look like a nurse.”

Neomaya felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. This wasn’t even the worst thing that had ever been said to her, but it was just his presence that made her sad. He was obviously skilled, otherwise he wouldn’t have so many instruments and pieces of paper with signatures and awards. Still, he seemed angry and sad, which made him critical.

“Are you scared of me?” he asked briskly. Neomaya took the chance to look up into his face and mechanically shake her head even though every instinct in her squirmed under his scrutiny.

“No sir,” she said clearly, which made Nathaniel snort.

“Not a very good liar. I can see it in your eyes that you’re either afraid or uncomfortable. Is it the patch?” he asked stiffly. Neomaya’s heartrate quickened as she remembered her training. Reassure. Regulate. Be ready.

“Just getting to know you, sir,” said Neomaya.

Nathaniel sighed and folded his arms across his chest, leaving a solid five minutes of air in the conversation before speaking again.

“It’s freaky, you know,” continued Nathaniel, eye glazing over and looking not at her, but at something distant that Neomaya couldn’t see. “You look so human except for your height. Eyes, nose, fingers, toes, heart, brain. Basically dressed up to play a nurse, here to tend to a soul not worth the oxygen and carbon constructing it. How human are you anyway?”

He sounded so hopeless. It was heart crushing.

Maybe it was because, mere hours ago, she was plucked from training to be taken to an unknown fate. Maybe it was just being in his presence and feeling the heartbreak in the air around him. Whatever it was, she didn’t know.

All Neomaya knew was that her eyes were glistening with tears and her shoulders shook slightly under Nathaniel’s gaze.

She heard him sigh and he leaned back while she attempted to steady her breathing. Heart racing, chest tight, Neomaya knew immediately her training was failing.

Or was it…

A few seconds later, Nathaniel sighed again, leaned forward, and reached out to press his palm against her back, thumb barely brushing the side of her head. It wasn’t a display of power, nor was it meant as threatening. It was meant as a comfort, which Neomaya noted as a good sign.

His fingers closed around her delicately, closing around her lower half, before he tilted his hand for her to sit in. He used his fingers like a human would use a seat belt as he lifted her to his chest above his heart and tilted his hand, letting her lean forward until his palm was against her back.

He was cradling her in his palm, pressing her ever so slightly into his shoulder. Neomaya wasn’t sure, but it felt like he was trying to offer some kind of hug. She leaned into the touch, both out of training habits and because, honestly, it felt nice. She gripped onto his shirt and pressed her face into the nice smelling fabric.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, which still reverberated in his chest like distant, rolling thunder to her. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m just… tired. Sad and tired.”

Nathaniel leaned back into his chair, taking Neomaya with him, as he sat there and breathed. Neomaya listened to his heart deep in his chest. It was rhythmic and soothing, lulling her into a dazed, dreamlike state. She could fall asleep to this sound. After some time, he tensed his fingers around her, which instantly gained the pet’s attention.

“I guess I need to find something to feed the both of us. Pocket or shoulder, your choice,” he muttered. There was hardly any debate in her mind. Neomaya saw that the pocket he was referring to was mere inches from her body and so close to the hypnotic thrum of his heart, so the choice was clear.

“Pocket please, sir,” she replied.

“Ugh, enough with the sir nonsense. It’s Nathaniel. Just Nathaniel.”

“Yes si—er… Nathaniel.” With that, he tilted his hand and she slipped easily between the folds of the fabric and watched as Nathaniel made his way through his home to the kitchen, noticing the entire way how he shuffled past all of his awards as though they didn’t exist.

What happened to him?

~~~^*^*^~~~

The days turned into weeks, which turned into months, and Neomaya had been tracking the idiosyncrasies of her human. First was when he woke up, which was late in the afternoon. Most nights, she accidentally fell asleep and woke up in her cubby he made for her in his bedside table.

He didn’t say much and, if he did, he was clear and concise. Mostly, if he talked, he would ask her if she needed anything or if she would rather be in his pocket or on his shoulder. Every time, she chose pocket. The shoulder felt so exposed and, if she was being honest, Neomaya was a quiet introvert at best. She also liked listening to the deep, rhythmic pulse of his heart.

Nathaniel had this way of shuffling his feet when he walked, but he had excellent posture when he sat down. He barely ate and sometimes muttered in his sleep. His touch was delicate, and he never pinched or grabbed her unnecessarily. In fact, other than the odd night when he would press his loosely closed fist against her back, Neomaya was left to her own devices.

Nathaniel installed ropes and lines for her to climb. One day when he felt energetic, he even installed a couple of ladder and bridge systems so she could get from place to place on her own.

Neomaya could wander and explore as she pleased through the house and found a lot of her time open and free. It was an odd sensation, not being watched or monitored every second of every day. What was even stranger was that she, not once, felt uneasy around Nathaniel. It wasn’t at all what she expected, being someone’s pet.

There were a few times where she found frames overturned or pictures that were clearly torn up and taped back together, but with pieces missing. It wasn’t her place to ask or pry, but she made note to remember it.

What made Neomaya very intrigued, however, were the instruments. She didn’t dare ask about them and, instead, made herself readily available and close by if he needed anything.

It was one fateful day, however, when he stepped out of the room and left her alone on his desk that she blundered into what became the most special interaction they ever had.

Nathaniel had gotten up from the desk because he was cleaning a couple of fountain pens and the ink cartridge broke. He had pulled out some pieces of paper from the desk drawer with these funny lines on it and began scribbling on it. The lines came in groups of five and were covered in little dots and lines.

He crumpled the first and second sheet before pulling out one that looked like it was almost filled in before the cartridge exploded. Neomaya wasn’t usually very nosy, but she realized only now that she knew very little about Nathaniel. It wasn’t her job to ask questions, but maybe she could get the answers on her own.

She hopped down from the little swing she made which Nathaniel had attached to his desk shelf and walked across the desk onto the paper to get a better view of the top of the page. The page itself was pristine, crisp around the edges. There was not a smudge in sight on the entire page. It was clear he took very good care of this document.

One of the benefits of her specialized function as a therapy pet was that she was taught to read. There were no words anywhere on the page between or next to the lines except for a few words at the very top of the page – Freedom for Liberty.

Neomaya had heard that before – Liberty. It was a concept, yes; however, the last time it was mentioned was when Nathaniel’s sister said it like a name. The way the sister used the name made it sound like this person wasn’t around anymore. Was this paper for someone? Was that why Nathaniel was despondent?

Neomaya heard the familiar shuffle of Nathaniel’s footsteps and turned around to walk back to her spot on the swing when her heart seized in her chest. Her eyes caught something, and she knew she was going to be punished.

When Neomaya walked onto the page, she walked through the spilled ink first – and there was a trail behind her of her little footprints across the page. She took a few involuntary steps backward, leaving several more prints.

No.

Please no.

Nathaniel’s shuffles were getting louder.

Neomaya thought fast and knelt, attempting to use her hands to wipe away the ink she left behind. It only smudged the page more. She started to hyperventilate, heart pounding so hard it threatened to break her ribs from the inside.

She started trembling, trying to think of what her training would say. Sadly, the only thought that was coming to her was that the punishment for destroying something precious to her owner would be more severe than anything else she had endured.

The footsteps stopped.

“What the… what did you…” Nathaniel asked, his voice having a noticeable tremor.

Neomaya choked back a sob and couldn’t bring herself to look up into Nathaniel’s honey colored eye. She took a few more instinctual steps back away from him, instinct ruling her movement.

“I… I’m s-s-so-rry. I-It w-was an accident.” Neomaya saw his hand in her peripheral vision reach out to the paper and touch along the shoe marks she made on the page. His fingertips were shaking. “P-p-please. I can make it right. L-let me…”

Neomaya was suddenly cut short when Nathaniel’s left hand came up and plucked her off of the desk, fingers pinching the back of her dress right at the base of her spine and lifted her a foot off of the page. A whimpering squeak escaped her as tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. Nathaniel held the foot smudged pages in his right hand for several seconds before setting them off to the side.

Neomaya was shaking violently, keeping her eyes pinched shut as she kept her arms wrapped firmly around her midsection as if, in some way, she could protect herself. She heard the drawer below open and close as well as the sound of paper being readjusted on the page. She also heard the sound of something pouring and, against her better judgment, opened her eyes.

The pet saw him pouring ink a small puddle of ink into a small tray next to the paper just in time as he lowered her back down onto the desk, setting her in the tray. He moved his hand a way, leaving her standing there, shoes soaking in the ink. She tried breathing slowly, but the compression in her chest from stress wasn’t letting her get a good breath.

“Walk across the page,” he directed, voice direct and unbelievably calm. Neomaya stifled another sob as she hesitantly stepped out of the tray and onto the page. Knees knocking the whole way, she made a direct line from one side of the page to the other, walking parallel to the lines on the page.

With incredible speed, Nathaniel reached out and plucked her off of the desk again, readjusting the page and setting her at the next set of lines down.

“Try again,” he said. Neomaya felt the intensity of his gaze watching her every movement. Was he going to make her do this to the whole page? Was this some kind of example he was going to use to punish her? She began walking again when he extended his right hand toward her. Instinctually, she flinched and stepped a few paces away, changing where she placed her feet. “Good.”

Neomaya’s heart still thundered in her chest, but there was something a little different in his tone. Fascination? Curiosity? He didn’t sound vindictive or angry. Could it be… he wasn’t going to punish her?

She took a few deep, calming breaths and looked up into his honey-colored eye, catching a gleam of something in his gaze. He wasn’t looking at her though – he was looking at the page. He could see something she couldn’t, which she took as a good sign.

Neomaya wasn’t sure what else to do but staying still didn’t seem to be the option. Instead, she decided to experiment slightly. The pet stared at the lines beneath her feet and chose a few different points to walk across that were on the top and bottom of the funny lines. She staggered her steps and leapt at one point until she reached the end of the line.

Sure enough, the process was repeated, pausing only to dip her shoes back into the ink, until the entire page was covered with her shoe prints. Nathaniel pulled a cloth from the drawer and set his pet on top of it before gathering up the paper in one hand and her in the other and walked over to the piano.

There was the slightest hesitation as he pulled the cover from the piano keys and set both Neomaya and the paper on top of the shiny surface of the piano. His eye was dancing with light as he remained standing and placed his right hand on the keys. With little effort, he pressed his fingers into the keys and began to play.

The reverberations under her made Neomaya jump slightly, but suddenly she was entranced by the sound. The rhythmic thrum beneath her reminded the pet of his heartbeat. A quick roll of his fingers suddenly caught her attention. She remembered dragging her foot across the page upward.

Was he able to do something with the little dots on the lined paper left behind by her shoes? Could he read the little dots?

He suddenly sat down, pulling the bench beneath him, as he placed his left hand on the keys and, both hands now dancing across the sleek black and white pieces of wood. He was making music – from the smudges of her shoes.

It didn’t last long and was incredibly repetitive and simple, but Nathaniel suddenly stopped playing.

“Not bad,” he muttered, eye suddenly flicking up to where Neomaya was sitting in the cloth which was now stained with the ink from her shoes. “Thoughts?” he asked

“I… um…” Neomaya was caught completely off guard by his question. “I… thought it was lovely.”

Silence. Did she say something wrong? Should she have been more specific? What did he want her to say? Should she…

Nathaniel interrupted her thoughts I the most unexpected way.

“I ought to apologize. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that, and I should’ve explained my train of thought before acting. She…” Nathaniel stopped before looking back down at the keys, eyes locked on a memory in his mind. “Libs would’ve scolded me for behaving like that. So, Neomaya, I’m sorry I startled you.”

Neomaya, absolutely stunned, shook her head as she ran through her training’s mantra again. Reassure. Regulate. Be ready. Somehow, it didn’t seem to fit very well though. She glanced to her right and looked out the window, gazing at the drifting snowfall just outside.

Instead of relying on her training, she decided to rely on her instincts. She knew Nathaniel, and yet she didn’t at the same time. Maybe now was that time.

“Libs?” she asked, clearing her throat in hopes to relieve the tension in her chest. “Is… that for Liberty?”

Nathaniel nodded as he continued to stare at the keys. “She… was a friend of mine. I wanted us to be something more, but that never panned out; and it doesn’t matter now anyway. Libs… she had a taste for a thrill, and that’s what got her in trouble. I tried to get her off of them, but she wouldn’t listen to me. They’re addictive for a reason.”

It dawned on her all at once.

“Those words on the other page… was that for her?” asked Neomaya, daring to ask such a bold question considering she technically ruined it with her shoeprints. Nathaniel nodded, and Neomaya watched as he clenched his jaw and a gloss began to form over his eye.

That was what was going on. That was why he was quiet and not writing music. Everything suddenly made so much sense, and it made Neomaya’s heart clench in a terrible, untouchable ache. He was heartbroken, separated from the person he loved.

“Hey, you okay?” asked Nathaniel. Neomaya suddenly realized she was crying, tears uncontrollably sliding down her cheeks. She tried wiping them away with the ink-stained cloth she was on, but to no avail. “Oh gosh… I didn’t mean to scare you. I swear I just wasn’t thinking. I’m not some psychopath. I wouldn’t hurt…”

“It’s not that,” whimpered Neomaya. She felt Nathaniel’s hand come up behind her and press reassuringly against her back. She leaned back into the warmth as she tried desperately to gather herself. “I… I can feel your heartache. I can feel how much she meant to you. It’s not fair. You’ve been so kind to me, and you deserve to be happy. Libs had to know that too.”

There were several unsure seconds between them; however, thankfully, both refused to swerve in this game of emotional chicken. Nathaniel’s hand shifted around Neomaya but stopped before completely enclosing her.

“May I?” he asked. She sniffed and gave a slightly breathy laugh before nodding. He picked her up delicately and, as he had done so many times before, pressed her against his chest lightly. She gripped the fabric of his shirt for dear life, breathing in the smell of light starch and detergent mixed with his scent until it soothed her.

“Nathaniel?” she said after they stayed there for several silent minutes. He hummed in acknowledgement. “I’m… I’m glad you told me about her. Liberty I mean. I know it wasn’t easy and… and I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, but I don’t care what your sister says. It’s okay to be sad. It’s not okay to give up, but it’s okay to be sad.”

Nathaniel sighed and nodded before standing up and walking back to the desk. “Care to try again?” Neomaya looked up at him and smiled, wiping her red and slightly puffy eyes, before nodding. “We’ll need more ink and paper then.”

~~~^*^*^~~~

It had been a year since that fateful interaction, almost to the day. They had grown closer than ever and hadn’t stopped creating music with one another.

Nathaniel and Neomaya continued to write together, Neomaya dancing and twirling across the page and learning to place certain dots, or “notes,” together which she liked to hear. She listened to him bring her scribbles and dots to life.

It took some time, but she eventually developed a style of her own – but not through music alone. In an activity they tried together, Nathaniel discovered Neomaya had an extreme aptitude for clay sculpting. She made figurines of all shapes and sizes, some as tall as she was and some the size of her finger which Nathaniel had to see through a microscope to see in detail.

Sculpting was the pet’s forte, but, with some encouragement, Nathaniel watched her passion explode to sketching and watercolor, Neomaya sometimes using her whole body as her brush against the canvas.

They were exquisite, as was the music Nathaniel composed from their shared efforts. Then, after many long conversations, Nathaniel convinced her to give him permission to put her art on display as he recorded and performed their music.

When she was unsure, he always said the same thing which helped him be the musician he always wanted to be.

“It doesn’t matter if anyone else likes it. You like it. You have passion and a love for what you do. That is what matters. People will see your zeal, your spark, and be inspired by it. If they’re jealous and if they belittle you and criticize your work cruelly, it’s because they can’t do it themselves. They’re jealous because they see your talent and are disappointed in themselves. Feedback is one thing, criticism is another. Don’t confuse them. Finally, if you think you’re the only one who will enjoy it, this about this. What are the chances, in this vast world with the hundreds of millions of people, that you are the only person who enjoys art like yours? Don’t let their insecurities make you afraid to be the person you were meant to be.”

So…

That was where she was.

She was pacing back and forth on the desk in a sweet white dress with flowing sleeves that barely covered her shoulders that was smattered with all different kinds of paint starting at her belt and fading as it reached the ends of the white, flowing fabric.

Nathaniel stepped into the room, shuffling his feet as always, looking dapper in a white button down that was cuffed to his elbows to reveal part of his tattoo, dark blue vest and pants to match, and his unruly hair tied back in a low man-bun.

“Ready?” he asked. She nodded timidly, keeping her once low hanging head high.

“Yes, are you?” She replied.

“Always,” said Nathaniel, rolling his shoulders confidently. “Now, here’s the real question. Pocket or shoulder, your choice.”

Neomaya smiled and bit her lip, now filled with confidence.

“Shoulder,” she said, a sassy quirk to her lip. Nathaniel’s brows knit in confusion and playful curiosity.

“Really? Not feeling nervous? Why the change?” he asked.

“Because,” she said thoughtfully. “How can I be nervous with you by my side? I’m confident and proud to be yours.”

Nathaniel smiled as he extended his hand level with the desk for her to climb onto.

“We’re each other’s,” he replied. “Now, come along. We’re going to be late for our debut.” She climbed onto his hand and braced herself as he raised her to his shoulder. It took a moment to situate herself in her dress, but she found the right fit – just like how she found the right fit with Nathaniel.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

HUGE shoutout to @ratcatcher0325 for inspiring me with the world forged by pure imagination. Show some love to this astounding author!

Also, as a personal note, thank you to @duscarasheddinn for your support and feedback. You always have fun feedback making me a stronger author.

Cheers and, as always, stay awesome!

~Narrans

[kyberphilosopher]

Past Tense

Dick receives his first real enemy as Nightwing; a new friend of Dick’s from school joins him on Thanksgiving kitchen duty. Word Count: 5723 The gender of said reader is left androgynous and up to individual interpretation. 

Warnings: some violence and disturbing themes.  * ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･  *

Dick was not stupid.

He had an intelligence quotient upwards of 130, so he wasn’t even close to stupid. Dangerously charming? Maybe. Ridiculously handsome? Sure! But stupid? No. Being trained by the Batman doesn’t leave a lot of space for stupid. Therefor, one would assume that perhaps Dick Grayson would not possibly make such an unassuming, simple mistake about an entire city, right? Wrong. 

This city wasn’t like Gotham at all. It was arguably worse. Just not at the beginning. That was where the mistake happened.

Bludhaven had a lot of qualities that Gotham lacked- better quality buildings, especially libraries, a university that wasn’t at risk of being blown up, a hospital that wasn’t constantly stuffed to the brim, a sky that wasn’t clouded by pollution and rain, and, for a very very brief period of time, no consistent crime lording villains. It was alive, more hopeful than Gotham despite the historical issues. The people and civilians just made Dick feel more welcome and secure. It seemed to be just something in the air. So perhaps Bludhaven didn’t need Nightwing’s protection at all, and he would simply serve a calm and crisp four years studying economics like any other student. This was also wrong. 

Dick began to make his debut as Nightwing once the sun had set, and, as mentioned, there was nothing to tip him off in the first few weeks. The villains he had been expecting did not make any appearances, though Dick wasn’t fooled. They were simply feeling him out, observing him from afar as if he were a new tenant in an apartment building. He was a rat in the house, a fly in their web. That was okay. Dick could be patient. 

He was patient. Once all those bad guys he had been studying actually started coming forward, seemingly all at once, Bludhaven got a lot less pleasant. It wasn’t important that the libraries were well kept- Dick didn’t have the energy to carry himself there a lot of the time. And the hospital? Dick was responsible for a quarter of the most frequent attendants. It didn’t matter if you could see the stars in the sky anymore, because Dick was too busy to even notice some nights. Not that he hated Bludhaven. He didn’t. It was just strange handling it all on his own. 

But flash forward to now, and he does hate Bludhaven. 

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･  *

Dick slides across the concrete road, just barely missing the car that sails overhead. His suit skims across the rocky surface as if it’s about to rip apart, but it holds together. The vehicle lands somewhere behind him with a crash. A car alarm springs to life for a single second before being promptly destroyed. His hands tug out his escrima sticks just an instant before a force hits him in the middle. 

A clean and short hit. Then a second, stronger and thicker one that forces his back into a brick wall. 

This asshole. This one he’s never fought before. They’re just at the other end of the hood of the car they use to crush him against the wall, fingers gripping into the metal with all their might. They want so badly to push it into Dick’s abdomen, he can feel it, and Dick’s pushing right back against the car in resistance. The moment of grunting and pushing strength gives Dick time to reflect. 

The new asshole is dressed in a sort of militaristic suit, armored with bright yellow kevlar with a black spray painted symbol across the chest that reminds Dick of Batman. Overtop is a black, waterproof jacket with the hood pulled all the way up. Their face is disguised behind a faceless mask of metal, also black. The figure looks masculine. Armored hands, armored torso, armored face, a decent amount of strength. But running with Batman all that time taught Dick to never assume. 

Back home in Gotham, Batman went up against a villain called the Mockingbird. They could copy anything. For a long time, Batman had referred to them as a ‘he’. Then, suddenly switched to ‘she’. It seemed eventually he gave up and settled on ‘they’, but it was enough for Dick to be wary of assuming without confirmation first.

“Eh, nice night for it?” Dick smiles through a grit. 

“I will break your fucking spine,” the asshole replies through their mask. Nope, Dick can’t distinguish whether it’s male or female through the distortion. 

“Charming!” 

Dick reaches up with his right hand, grasping and pulling the escrima stick. It prods across the hood to the shoulder of the villain, effectively causing them to release their hold on the car as streaks of blue lightning encases the limb. Dick seizes the opportunity to shove the car out of the way. There’s no sound of a car alarm this time. Luckily, there’s also no civilians out at this hour to get hurt. So long as he keeps the vandalism to a controlled minimum, Nightwing can live with himself. 

“Sorry,” Dick breathes. “Shocking for you? Ha, I crack myself up.”

Just then, the asshole stills themselves. Their forearms clash together a few times like two rocks attempting to spark a fire, and from their wrists to their elbow they’re caged in thin, indigo branches of electricity. Dick’s face drops. “Uh oh.”

He manages to dodge the next hit, although it’s close. Suddenly Nightwing’s escrima sticks feel silly and little in comparison. He can win this fight- Dick knows that for a fact. But there’s something taunting and intimidating about this one now. This asshole seems more put together than the other assholes he fights. Like Tarantula, or Nite-Wing. This charger of an asshole is on a different scale. 

On his toes, Dick prances across the street. The ground below him explodes with blue sparks, just grazing the bottoms of his feet as he jumps. He’s getting closer and closer, analyzing how the blasts shoot like bullets from the asshole’s wrists. It almost reminds Dick of... Wayne tech. But he can’t think about that right now. 

Dick bashes each escrima stick on either side of the asshole’s head. They arch backwards, arms bending back as if they were going to flip. But instead both legs snap upwards, catching Dick under the chin harshly. Rows of teeth clank against each other, creating a brash soreness. It’s a sharp enough jolt that the mighty Nightwing wonders if he’s chipped a tooth. But he’s strong. He recovers quick, teeth in tact.

Once asshole flips up to their feet, a rigorous pattern takes place. Blocking and hitting, between Dick and this perp. Switching, making Dick crease his brows. Finally, getting so close he can see his breath hitting and fogging their helmet, Dick feels a jab so hard against his armor his stomach churns.

Automatically, Nightwing falls to his knees when the second blow hits him in the groin. Both escrima sticks fall to the concrete helplessly, his breathing unsteady as the young man attempts to catch it. Two boots come into view ahead of him momentarily, then they turn away. Clutching his abdomen tightly, the normal smiling demeanor of Dick Grayson is replaced by a sterner, more angry one. He stands, his eyes trained on the villain in black and yellow, now holding the original duffle bag spilling with cash. They’re already fully at the top of a fire escape on an apartment building. 

It seems like the time for someone to say something. Usually, the place of winner and loser would be switched and Dick would be saying some quippy remark. But Dick is in no mood to quip. The soreness is spreading throughout his body and he can feel his own frustration behind his rather piercing gaze. So he doesn’t speak. Neither does the asshole. 

They turn away and disappear. 

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･  *

Dick’s knees spread as he takes his seat on the couch, sinking into it silently. Tonights cartoons make several colors cast across the air of Dick’s apartment, which he notes takes the form of mostly hot pink, neon yellow, and electric blue. It’s been a long day, shorter than the last but longer than most, and gazing at cartoons thoughtlessly while downing Lucky Charms is probably the perfect way to make up for it. The milk is cold and those cheap little sugar shapes are sweet. The thick white towel wrapped around Grayson’s hips is fluffy. It’s all enough to distract Dick from the soreness across his muscles.

He’d seen the bruises in the few mirrors he possessed the previous night. They had blossomed along his stomach and thighs, across his v-line and the cut of his hips. Although Dick had washed every inch of sweat and grime from his skin, tossed his suit in the washer and put Band-Aids over some of the darkest bruises ‘just in case’, the evidence of the encounter with the new asshole had barely stayed darkly. 

What was that? Nightwing thought, his palms against the shower wall above him, his head ducked down as the hot water ran over his form. Some was dripping in front of his eyes from a single lock of dark hair, but Dick Grayson did not flinch.

He could vaguely remember some articles about a Bludhaven menace in black and yellow, though Dick couldn’t recall much. He had been more focused on Blockbuster or Double Dare. He’d even thought about Nite-Wing more than this asshole. How had he allowed this one match to get so difficult? He hadn’t struggled much in the past, and people knew that. 

Dick rubbed a hand along the bottom of his abdomen, over his muscles and tickling against the plum flowers of bruises. His pelvis was sore to the touch.

But that was then, and this is now. And Dick adjusts himself further into the couch before piling another bite of Lucky Charms between his lips. 

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･  * 

Time goes on. The bruises stay. They fade, but they stay. Dick’s studies, however, do not change at all. But that’s alright. He didn’t enroll himself in university for no reason. An Economics major most endure. 

Dick pops up the stairs of the social sciences hall and building. The autumn air springs to life around him, filling his nose with wafts of leaves and something fittingly pumpkin. Dick has always liked fall. A shame he’ll be spending part of the day taking a required side course on- what was it? Psychology? Should be. The few people he’d talked to in his normal econ classes had agreed that psychology was the best option to fill the credit. Jason would probably be jealous. 

Jason. Dick almost trips over his own feet mid step at the reminder. Never mind what the charged asshole did the other night. A thousand punches to the gut will never hurt as much as Jason Todd. Would he be joining the family for Thanksgiving this year? Dick had planned on driving down after school the day after tomorrow so he would be able to join on time. Did Jason consider the same thing? He must’ve. 

Dick pulls open the door to the building. A rush of much colder, more new air envelops his form. No, he decides. Jason probably would not be there. Though Dick would hold out hope just in case. 

He double checks the room he’s supposed to be in. Everything checks out, so he enters. There’s a lot of familiar faces. Dick is likable enough that he waves hello to enough people without problem. He takes a seat towards the clearer side of the room next to someone he doesn’t recognize. He’s decided that if ends up texting Tim, or even Barbara, it would be best to do with some privacy. 

Hey, how are you! Did Alfred tell you I’ll come home for TG?

Barbara doesn’t respond. It’s been a few minutes. She used to reply within the first. 

Real excited to see everyone. University is weird. 

Dick frowns. 

As he lifts his head and slips his phone back into the side pocket of his jeans, Dick gets a better look of the person he’d decided to sit next to. 

Attractive, even from the side, with their head tilted down so they can look at the book they’re holding. The way they’re dressed reminds Dick of how people did back in Gotham. Black jeans, a long black coat covering a gray hoodie, and black boots. It’s casually stylish and put together, enough to make them look like a somewhat formal person without truly being formal. Bruce would approve. 

“Whatcha’ reading?” Dick dares to ask, nodding slightly to the book they hold. 

The neighbor looks up and over. They’re even more attractive head on. Now Dick can see the spark of intelligence in their eyes as if they were a superior being. It’s enough to make Dick feel like they really are. 

“Crime and Punishment,” they answer calmly, raising the book in acknowledgement ever so slightly. “It’s Russian.”

Dick’s eyebrows fly upwards with impression. “You understand Russian?”

“It’s in English,” the person responds. The book tilts in their fingers until Dick can make out the tiny words on the pages. Long, and clumsy, some of them, but English. “I heard the Russian version was better though. It’s hard to find a good translation.”

“What’s it about?” Dick questions in return, now shifting in his seat so his chest is facing the person in attention. 

With a bit of a small, charming smile and flitting eyes down and up, they answer. “A man in poverty who kills a pawnbroker. Can’t say I blame him.”

Dick’s brows twitch in curiosity. “Why’s that?”

The reader meets his eyes. Dick’s gut gives a great pang, right under his long line of bruises. It’s a pang of intuition he can’t explain. “He needed the money for school.” They nod their head around the room with a spark of humor and charisma in their sharp eyes. “And people are annoying.”

“Am I annoying?” Dick’s lips twitch upwards in a smirk.

“We’ll see if you pay my tuition first.”

“Harsh, but fair,” Dick smiles. It’s the charming smile Barbara told him he had.

The person next to him narrows their eyes. Now he can really see the intelligence inside of them. So much knowledge, someone who knows something- maybe everything- that other people don’t. “Is that shocking for you?” they say lowly, almost threateningly.

Dick grasps at his stomach right then and there, hissing between his teeth as his eyes duck down. It’s another wave of intuition that batters his body all over again. But when he looks up, his neighbors watching him curiously. There’s nothing real threatening and menacing about them.

“What did you say?” Dick scrunches his brows.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Right. Dick Grayson’s officially gone crazy.

Dick removes his hand from his tummy and straightens himself out. His fingers stretch out halfway over the space between them. “That makes more sense,” he chuckles lightly. “My name’s Dick Grayson.”

His neighbor is still for a second. Something dances in their orbs before disappearing, replaced with a calm smile. “Y/N L/N,” they answer, hand meeting his in a shake. “Nice to meet you, Dick.”

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･  *

Dick holds the door open for his new acquaintance politely. Whether it’s because he’s just an extrovert, or because he enjoys the energy of this person, he stays holding the door for more than a second or two until they walk across the threshold. He’s gifted with a thank you, and Dick and Y/N step down the short outside stairway silently and somewhat comfortably. 

“Got any plans for the holidays?” Dick puts his hands in his jeans pockets sheepishly. His jean jacket and sweatshirt combo rustle in a sudden, crisp, short gust of wind. He doesn’t even notice his hair blowing as well. 

His acquaintance shoulders their bag and looks up in thought. The sky has darkened overhead. “Visiting family in Gotham.”

Dick raises any eyebrow. “Really?” A soft chuckle escapes his lips, which have been thinly coated with strawberry chapstick. “I’ve got family down there too.”

Y/N smiles. “Who’s that?”

Dick inhales. “My dad, and four brothers. Oh, and our butler.”

“Butler must be nice. Any pets?”

Dick smiles to himself as he cocks his head to look at his partner. “We have a cow,” he admits. 

“A cow,” Y/N repeats. “Most people have a cat or dog.”

“Yeah, well, my family’s a special case,” Dick offers. It earns a laugh.

Man, Dick thinks. This person is so cool. 

He stops the both of them, turning his whole body at the bottom of the steps to Y/N in attention. “How about I give you a ride to Gotham in a few days? I’ll even be a gentleman let you pay for gas.” Dick says the second part with a sweet voice of humor. 

“Really?” Y/N raises an eyebrow. “You’re not afraid of a little shock?”

“Hey, everyone’s gotta’ have a ride.” Dick smiles and shrugs. “Really, though. I’d be happy to take you there.”

In return, Y/N shuffles in place. Their breathing comes out in noticeable puffs of air now, similar to Dick’s. However, unsimilar to Dick’s, Dick finds their air attractive. He’ll worry about whatever that means for him later. “What do you want in return? Besides gas money, I mean.”

Dick hadn’t thought of that. But now that someone’s mentioned it...

“Hey,” Dick looks around. “Have you heard anything about someone who can make electricity come out of their arms?”

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･  *

Y/N hadn’t known anything about Charge, which is what they and Dick had ended up calling the opponent. Y/N had said, however, that they knew what Dick was talking about. A masked villain in yellow and black that had joined the other list of people tormenting Bludhaven at night. There hadn’t been a whole lot of news coverage on him, which had explained why Dick couldn’t recall much. Only that their crimes went beyond the simple stealing of money Dick had witnessed as Nightwing the other night. Charge seemed more of a... well, more of a Batman level villain than a Nightwing level villain. 

This thought was ridiculous of course- Dick was capable of everything Bruce was and arguably more, but it was all Dick Grayson could think about. 

On Thanksgiving day, Dick walked out of his apartment and loaded the backseat of his car with a nice leather case that Alfred had given him. He’d been thinking about family all morning, his tummy buzzing with excitement. Alfred, and Tim, and Barbara. She never had replied to his text. 

The great Nightwing fumbles with his keys for a few moments. He’s inhaling the air- not too sharply as to make his abdomen and chest spark with pain but enough to smell that pumpkin scent.

It’s the passing of a dog that brings Dick out of his trance. The little thing yaps from the other side of the street, and the smell of pumpkin in the autumn air dissipates. With a shake of his head, he closes the car door and climbs into the drivers seat.

You live on the other side of Bludhaven. Not terribly far away from Dick, and not terribly far from most of the university buildings spread throughout the city. The drive to your apartment building is maybe fifteen minutes from his own. Dick can vaguely recognize the place from his nightly work. He must’ve been in the area before.

The Building itself is fairly similar to his own. It’s tall, with dark red, orange, and brown bricks. It’s sandwiched between other buildings and every few seconds a passerby crosses his view. Unlike Dick’s building, however, there’s people doing blatant drugs out front. He chews his bottom lip. He’ll remember their faces. Drugs aren’t cool.

Fifty minutes later you’re in his car, sporting the same black jacket and pants you had the other day, though this time it’s paired with a maroon sweater. Dick thinks the color compliments your skin, a sentiment he shares with you a few moments into the ride when a wave of silence hit.

He asks about your novel, which he learns you’ve read and finished multiple times. He then moved on about your major- how you like it, if you’re enjoying the classes. You do, though Dick doesn’t learn if Economics was your first choice or not. He tells you that he was torn between Economics and Communications, and that he’s in the market for a small dog if you hear anything. You promise you’ll keep an eye out.

Once out of the city, Dick takes a back road instead of a highway. Trees line the concrete ahead, and the leaves fall all at once. Orange, scarlet, brown and yellow pieces daze in and out of the wind like confetti. It seems both of you are in love with the maple-esque view. It’s obvious, since Dick falls silent and you keep your eyes trained out the window. It’s nice.

Beyond that lies the outskirts of Gotham. You can’t mistake the smoke and pollutants, the gray clouds rolling in like a sign of doom. Wayne tower stands tall and prominent and dark in the middle. It’s been about an hour by now.

And then, suddenly-

“Oh, no,” you mutter, staring at your phone.

“What’s that?” Dick questions, twisting the wheel in a turn with one hand as his chin grazes over his shoulder to look back.

“My Thanksgiving plans fell through,” you tell him. “Sorry. Could you just drop me off at the first motel? There should be one right when we get in the city.”

Dick furrows his brows. “Spending Thanksgiving alone now?”

You raise your eyebrows in response, watching him as a throaty chuckle escapes his lips. They look to be covered in chapstick again today, because they’re still pink and rosy. “That’s gotta suck. Why don’t you stay with me?”

Your eyes widen. “No, that’s alright. Seriously.”

“Come on,” Dick throws you a smile. “Please? Alfred would love to have you.”

“Who’s Alfred?”

“The Butler.” Dick pulls the car onto a new street after turning right. Now you’re officially off the highway that leads straight into Gotham. “I can’t let you spend such a joyous holiday alone. It’ll be nice!”

“And… this’ll be in your house?”

“Of course. Dinner is on me. Seriously.”

He watches the road, but Dick can tell from the silence that you’re debating with yourself. “If you’re sure I won’t intrude...” you finally decide.

“I’m certain,” Dick reassures with a smile. “Plus, now Alfred will give us some extra pie as a treat.”

You nod and turn away, fingers dancing in your lap as you watch out the window.

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･  *

Dinner. Goes. Phenomenally. 

Being the criminal now referred to as Charge already required you to be smarter than your fellow man, but Dick Grayson was even slower than you thought. He hadn’t even required an interrogation to get his name or address. How naïve of all those Bludhaven journalists to mistake Nightwing as some sort of boy genius. He can’t even tell when there’s a viper in his den. Pathetic. 

Alfred Pennyworth, the man you come to know as Grayson’s butler, tells you that Dick was a gifted child. His brother, Tim, confirms this by explaining that Dick was always the fastest on the monkey bars. This prompted a laugh out of everyone except for Dick’s father, Bruce Wayne, who remained stoic. He thinks you don’t know who he is, inside and out. But, rest assured, you’re fully aware of both Bruce and the Batman. He seems to no longer be able to differentiate between the roles himself.

After continuously watching the door before Alfred whispers in his ear about something, Grayson gorges himself on turkey and stuffing for most of the meal. You watch as he practically makes his stomach into a black hole and absorbs half the table. He and Tim squabble over the rolls for a while before Tim submits to his brothers tyranny. Damian, the youngest brother, is more quiet, but when someone calls him he speaks with such abrasiveness it’s hard not to chuckle. You let him have the last of your mashed potatoes since he still seems hungry, which he begrudgingly agrees to with a pink face. Big bat is the quietest of all, however. He looms over the head of the table observing his family, occasionally chiming in with Alfred’s polite questions about you. 

By the end, you realize the so called Bat family would be easier to split than you’d originally imagined. You have no plans to disrupt them for now, but maybe in the future it could help you out. And now that you know the dynamic, you’ve got everything you need really. 

Dick is so stupid. He let you- practically a stranger- waltz right into his home with his family. And to think the other night on the street you thought he’d be a more worthy opponent. 

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･  *

Grayson adds another plate to the sink and watches the water rush over it. It provides a light cleaning, but it’s not enough, which is what you’re here for. As he simply places the china near you, you take a bit of soap on a sponge and swipe all around, one plate at a time. Next will be the silverware. 

“You know, it’s nice to have someone new join the family,” Dick breaks the silence and metal clattering. “Gets boring seeing the same faces every year.”

You can kill him right now. One cut to the right vein and you’ll never have to deal with Nightwing or one more annoying classmate ever again. You’ve got a good facade that you present to the world for sure, but there’s only so much you can take before the extroverts inhabiting it push you over the edge and into insanity. And you’re definitely not insane yet. Dick Grayson could do just that. Always yapping- he came to you first.. And sure, it had sped up your plans, but by god was it annoying. You could end it all right here in the kitchen. 

But you’ll have to get your hand on one of those knives first. Dick’s next to them, and to not arouse suspicion you’ll have to wait until he passes them to you for cleaning. There’s no use making a break for one of them now. You’ve seen and gone head to head with his reflexes first hand. He overpowers you and everybody else in the world on that front.

You suppose you could also try and get the drop on him with one of these handy dandy plates. But no, that would create too much of a noise, and then you’ll have the Batman and probably a Robin after you. No, a knife is the best bet. You can control the noise better that way. 

“I completely understand,” you reply, squirting more soap onto a sponge. “But I doubt you’d trade these guys for anything, huh?”

Dick chuckles. “I guess you could put it that way.”

Come on, move. How do you get him to move?

“So, I take it your family’s not much better?”

This catches you off guard. Luckily you’re quick to recover. “We have our moments.” Elusive yet satisfying. Perfect. Your familial life is none of Dick Grayson’s business.

Dick tosses you a charming smile. It’s natural though, and not forced, true to his nature. “I think Damian likes you.”

“Oh yeah?” you smile. “You really think so?”

His arm stretches across the sink to place the last plate in it for you. His veins are apparent, but again, it’s not forced. If you had any doubts about him being Nightwing before (you hadn’t), they were long gone. His muscular structure fit the vigilante to a T. “I know so.”

“So sure of yourself,” you muse with a smile. Finally he’s onto silverware, but first he has to get through the forks.

Dick picks one up and examines it, the humor never leaving his face. “You can call me a master detective. I basically know everything.”

One statement is true, the other is not. It’s hard not to just grab the fork from his hand and beg him for the others, but you know your patience. You know how to kill a bird.

“Remind me never to cross your path.” Dick hands you the first utensil, then the second. Giving you the third feels like you’re being edged. The knives are practically screaming at you now.

“So living in a big mansion must be nice,” you decide, testing a new angle. “You like it?”

Dick rolls his eyes at you. “It’s alright. Of course I like it! Alfred’s hard not to love.”

Your fingers seem greedy as they take the next fork and scrub it down. Only two more to go. “Your dad looks familiar. Is he-”

“CEO of Wayne Enterprises? Bingo.”

You fake a surprise. “Well that would explain it.”

One more fork. One more fork now, and then he’ll be onto the knives and it’ll be over for Nightwing.

Just to see what would happen, you push out, “Must’ve been a shock for you.”

Dick’s free hand rubs against his abdomen. Your eyes trail to it with subtlety, watching the long, deft fingers work against the cloth of his shirt. It must be painful and nasty. Now who could’ve given him such a bruise?

“So what do you think about this Charge guy?” Dick suddenly switches topics. The hand holding the last fork that acts as a barrier between his life and death slumps against the fancy marble countertop, much to your dismay. But there’s nothing you can do about it. You don’t have your suit or anything to give you the upper hand, and his family would come running. You have to wait.

Now it’s occurring that you’re practically jumping from your skin in excitement of killing the little bat. And excited you are. Restraint is crucial. Just act like everybody else. That’s the key. Act like everybody else.

“I haven’t found anything new if that’s what you mean.” You shut off the faucet and the sound of water stops. Now the room is deathly silent.

“That’s alright,” Dick shrugs. Light that peels in from the windows illuminates the blue in his irises as he shifts. “I guess I was just hoping. No worries.” Then he leans in so close you can smell his musky wood scent so he can nudge you with his elbow. “I heard he stole a whole duffel bag of money from a bank the other night. I bet you’re jealous you can’t use that for class.”

“Yeah, that would be useful.”

“Ah, no worries,” Dick goes back to a whole smile and waves the idea off. Finally, he reaches to hand you the last knife carefully. How should you do it? Go for the throat, or add to the stomach wounds? The eyes? “You’re smart enough that you’ll be fine either way.”

The bottom of your lip is bitten down upon without meaning to. You take the utensil into your hand with care, holding it above the sink as you decide the best course of action.

You can kill him. You can kill Nightwing. And as he’s lying in his own pool of blood, you can tell him that you’re ‘Charge’. You can tell him how he led you to his family, to the Batman, to the Batcave- all so easily.

Alright. You’ve got it now. You’ll go for the neck and use your hand to muffle Dick’s screams. Kneeing him in his stomach should help to keep him occupied, since you’ve already injured him there before and now it’s vulnerable. He’s vulnerable. And in three seconds, he won’t even exist.

“Hey, uh, I just wanted to say thanks for agreeing to come up here.”

You face Dick, who leans with his back against the counters and his strong arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah?”

“I know it was last minute and all,” Dick continues, “but I thought it was nice. It’s been a while since I’ve hosted someone. I guess I forgot how much I liked it. So, thank you. Family Christmas is on you next time though.”

You pause. Dick smiles as he always does, dimples creasing. The blue in his eyes stands bold against the inky darkness of his hair, which has been messy ever since Damian ran around the table and tugged on it during the meal. His brows frame his face perfectly. You can picture his skin tanning so perfectly in the summer, and a pinkness spreading across his nose in the winter. Even his jaw and chin seem handsome in the moment.

“Sure,” you turn back to the sink, setting the knife at the bottom and turning the water faucet back on. “It was really no problem. I enjoyed it.”

“So I’ll be seeing more of you then?”

When you turn to see him, Dick’s still where he was ten seconds ago. Only his smile is more cocky. It’s as if the twinkle in his eyes grows in time with his charisma.

You smile back slowly. “Yeah. You’ll be seeing more of me, Dick Grayson.”

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･  *

Wanted to mess around with building tension. Let me know if I succeeded. 

[tieria-erde]

ALRIGHT FINE lol, i can never say no if someone asks!! i love talking about tieria's gender...!!

unlike the english language, which has one first-person pronoun "i" (and its declensions me, my, etc.), japanese has many different first-person pronouns (upwards of 15! although of course not all of them are used commonly), all with varying connotations related mostly to gender and social status. in real life, people will use different first-person pronouns depending on the social context, but in gundam 00 (and many other anime), characters tend to pick one and stick to it. tieria is an exception to this trend: she uses three different first-person pronouns over the course of the show.

the first that she uses is 俺 ore. this pronoun is used primarily by men: for example, in gundam 00, setsuna and lockon both use ore. the energy of ore is described broadly as "rough", "assertive", "aggressive", etc, and overall, puts forth an aura of confidence. in real life situations, it's typically used by men when talking to people who are of equal or lower social standing (or by anyone who wants to emulate that kind of identity). for most of season 1, tieria uses this pronoun exclusively.

tieria's character arc has a lot to do with letting go of the expectations that she places on herself and others. at the start of the show (while she's using ore), she's a self-righteous, over-confident asshole who antagonizes, disrespects, and even threatens the other gundam meisters on the regular. this sense of confidence is challenged, though, when she reveals gundam nadleeh (the long-haired mech pictured above) in episode 10.

this scene is the real beginning of tieria's character arc, and the first time we see her use any other first-person pronouns. after being forced to reveal nadleeh before she had planned to, in a scene that reads so much like a forced outing that it makes me utterly crazy on the regular, tieria breaks down crying in nadleeh's cockpit and says: "俺は、僕は、私は…" (ore wa, boku wa, watashi wa...) which is officially translated as the painfully inadequate "I am... I am... I am..." (as a side note, the dub's take on this line is: "Veda... I just... I couldn't help it." which i'm fond of even if it loses the gendered connotations. hiroshi kamiya and sam vincent both have great performances as tieria!)

boku and watashi are the other two pronouns that tieria uses in the show. boku is also primarily masculine (although there is precedent for women using boku, both in real life and in fiction), but it has a much softer and less "superior" feeling than the rough "ore". where ore is used with people of equal or lower social standing, boku is typically used with people of equal or higher social standing. for example, in gundam 00, allelujah and saji use boku.

watashi is used in a wide range of contexts, which makes its usage a little more difficult to pinpoint. generally, it's described as being either gender-neutral or feminine, depending on the context and the speaker, and overall, much less assertive than ore or boku. (i have more to say about this but this reblog is long enough as it is >_>)

all this to say, when tieria says "ore wa, boku wa, watashi wa," it's a representation of how her facade of confidence is breaking down in that moment. up until now, she's considered herself unquestionably better than the people around her, and now that she's failed at something for the first time, the superiority on which her sense of self is built on is collapsing. on one level, the pronouns that tieria uses to refer to herself progress from the most to the least assertive, but their gendered connotations add a certain other layer to this breakdown, because it paints her presentation up until this point as not only a false sense of arrogance but specifically as a show of exaggerated, forced masculinity. when she uses "ore", that's the person she thinks she should be, or the person she thinks she needs to be: confident, aggressive, and masculine. it's only after breaking down this ideal, and after accepting that she isn't that person and doesn't want to be, that she can settle into herself and find a true sense of confidence. (eventually, she settles on using exclusively boku from the start of season 2 onwards)

i have more thoughts and more meta to write about tieria's usage of different first-person pronouns throughout this show, but i think the nadleeh reveal scene in episode 10 is telling enough on its own. one day i want to write something really truly comprehensive about tieria's first-person pronouns to post on here, but that'll happen a bit further down the line. for the time being, i hope you've enjoyed my ramblings, because i love tieria and i especially love this scene ^_^

TIERIA ERDE from MOBILE SUIT GUNDAM 00

JUSTIFICATION:

"jesus christ look at her. i'm supposed to believe she's a cis man?? the hair and glasses are 100% tgirl swag, and if you held a gun to my head and made me wear slacks & a buttondown, her pink sweater is literally exactly how i would femme it up. also i haven't gotten this far but apparently she crossdresses later in the show and from the pics she pulls it off perfectly." - @caterjunes

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[hanazou]

𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙪𝙮𝙖.

(while being shorter than him)

— a chaos of fun!

Word count : 1.5K

Shelf : Hardback

Genre : Romance and fluff, slight crack

Note : Sorry, anon! There was technical issue so I have to post this without your ask! I hope these are detailed enough to your expectations? I wrote more than I expected I would. Once again, thank you to the-foreigner for helping me figure out the tags!

Please enjoy!

 Where have you been all his life?

To say that Chuuya would simply be attracted to you because of your height sounds shallow, so let me phrase it this way; Chuuya is so used to having look up to people since many are taller than him all his life, both men and women, so it kind of does something different to his psyche when he sees you, being shorter than him.

Not to sound stereotypical but it's a given instinct that when you see someone shorter than you, you get the impression that they're cute and it triggers your protective instinct, right? This is what Chuuya feels about you. And since this sensation is new to him, he cherishes it.

Also, since Chuuya leans more towards masculinity, in your relationship with him, you're making him feel more manly. To speak a bit bluntly and in a nutshell, you boost his ego.

You make him feel even more confident and comfortable with himself. It's not that he wasn't confident before he dates you, you're just making him bolder with more sense of control and masculinity, making him feel validated. More dominant and more alpha.

But what does all of that mean, you ask? Here's the highlight of this post; Chuuya will pamper you as your prince charming while simultaneously being your playmate. Perfectly balanced.

Why? Because seeing you being petite, smaller than him, makes you appear as someone he should protect, but the romance doesn't replace the fun. When it comes to being Chuuya's darling, things never get overly cheesy. Yes he can be romantic (he is), but he's not the type to use sweet talks 24/7. He uses his "rough" ways to communicate his romanticism, one of them being your equal, hence the "playmate" dynamic.

Chuuya tells himself that you're his cute, little darling. He will say this to you straightforwardly except the "cute" part. If he casually and accidentally calls you cute from a slip of his tongue, you can definitely tease him back to get even.

He can be the big spoon and the "top" of your relationship, but he will be a switch if he's feeling sluggish. Being the "lead" sometimes makes him need a break, not from you, but from the energy it takes. Chuuya is an emotional guy and can be downright hysterical, and that takes energy, so he will turn to you for solace when he's worn out. To achieve that, Chuuya will utilize your height to bury his face into your neck or lean his forehead on your shoulder when work wears him down.

"Stay like this for a while," His voice blurs into mutters with his face on your shoulder. "Just three minutes."

Pat his head. Do it.

If you're the one feeling low, just put your head against his chest when you're both standing. Chuuya will be confused at first, but he'll silently ruffle your hair with your forehead still against his chest. It will be calming, I promise you.

Whether you're Port Mafia or a regular civilian (I find it easier for him to date someone from the PM though), you can count on Chuuya to be protective. He's already a protective guy by nature but when he sees you, his shorter darling, anywhere close to danger, that protective instinct doubles or even triples.

In fact, he wants you to rely on him. It's not that he wants you to be dependent—Chuuya just wants you to know that he always has your back. He's the combination of loyal and protective, so he wants to prove those qualities he takes pride in to you. Trust is a strong element for him, and by letting him know you count on him, you’re already securing his utmost loyalty and love.

One of the highlights of this post is his hat. You're shorter than him and it makes it easier for Chuuya to just plop his hat on your head on random occasions. No words, no thoughts, just putting his hat on you. It's the subconscious acts of love like this that makes him feel whole with you.

Kouyou will like you for colouring Chuuya's life. She'll make comments about how you both are fun to watch at, especially when you're both doing your silly dating antics, such as "My, my, energetic as always, aren't you both?"

Speaking of dating antics--Emotional maturity? We don't know her.

Doesn’t matter if you're only 2 cm or maybe 10 cm shorter than him. He will take any height advantage and have fun with it. A little too much, in fact.

Chuuya is not above using his ability to put objects in places he knows you can't reach but is close enough for you to struggle, just to watch you squirm. Confidence does things to this man, mischief being one of them. On the instances where you really can't reach up and it's not because of his tricks, something like this is bound to happen ;

"Huh, can't reach the top shelf, can ya? Don't worry, I've got you." He says, chest huffing with pride, before getting a ladder himself.

"...."

Mostly will lift you up to help since he wants to take the small chances to bond with you over simple moments. Short people solidarity. The height boost isn't much since short + short doesn't exactly equate to being tall, but hey, it's the thought and the comedic moments that count.

Speaking of comedic moments;

"Have you reached it yet?!" He asks loudly, craning his head from below you to see upwards. You're sitting on his shoulders and he's making sure he doesn't move around too much, or else you'll fall.

"Just a little bit more—!" You grunt, arm stretched. "Lift me up more, will you? Jump or something!"

"Do you want to fall? Forget it! Just reach higher!

"Maybe I can stand on your shoulders. Hold still--"

"Oi, this vest is 60,000 yen! And this is already the highest I'm lifting you! That's enough, I'll lower you down and just use my ability!"

"No! I'm already grazing it!"

And then you both will proceed to bicker in that weird, eye-catching position, for at least 2 more minutes. It will end if you either jump off him or he floats you down using his ability, and usually it's the latter.

[Sometimes the positions will switch (you lifting him up) but he's a solid 60 kg, it will be a challenge for your muscles and a good workout routine. Good luck getting him to agree to it though.]

[If that happens, chances are your legs will wobble just within seconds from lifting him. Good thing is it increases the humour and mischief in your relationship, downgrade is that it's too silly and stupid to look at to make it feel romantic]

Want to get back at his pranks? Here's a solution. Chuuya will vaporize if you use his clothes. He's taller than you, so let's say his shirt looks like a dress on you.

"W-What do you think you're wearing?!" Is what he shouts, but his flustered face says otherwise. [Bonus: for more critical hit, wear his choker(s). It does ‘things’ to him]

Yeah it's the little things like this that boost his confidence and optimism, and you don't mind him acting like the prince charming in an armour.

If anyone calls you (or even both of you) short, Chuuya will be pissed and defend you and himself since he assumes you also don't like being mocked for your height. He takes it upon himself to "fight" for you too. He has the "we're in this together" mentality.

And so do you. If any Port Mafia's enemies try to waver your confidence or Chuuya's by mocking your heights, it's going to be hell at that point.

If Dazai ever spots you and Chuuya together in public, he will say "Congratulations, Chuuya! You finally found someone shorter to date!" just when Chuuya mumbles "What's that shitty Dazai doing here?" under his breath.

Chuuya will try to kick his face while yelling "Huh?! What'd you just said about us!?"

Don't take what Dazai said personally, he did it to get on Chuuya's nerves, not yours. Instead, why don't you hold Chuuya back so he doesn't chase Dazai?

“Don’t you ever get bored arguing with him?!” You struggle to pull him back. You have to shout to outmatch his shouts.

Chuuya will be interested in height-related shenanigans with you, such as actually reading obviously fake advertisements that promises height growth and asking you if you're interested. He will only do this with you because he knows you won't make silly/berating comments about him. As I've said, trust is the secret ingredient in dating Chuuya.

"Hey, do you think this is real?" He shows you the poster he picked up. The dirt left by his sole on it is still there.

"Chuuya," You try really hard to stop sighing. "At this point, we have to stop lying to ourselves,"

But if the advertisement doesn't sound fake, let's say it utilises supposedly "effective acupuncture techniques", you will lessen the mature act and entertain him a bit.

In short, you and Chuuya will have an energetic and youthful relationship. It doesn't matter where you two are, be it in the cities or the ground zero of battle; if you two are there, people will see one hell of a lively, energetic, short duo.

📜 ; like what you read? visit my bookshop!

[mythicamagic]

“Call it a truce”

(For the prompt if you’d like)

They'd crossed paths eight times now inside the godforsaken maze. Naraku had placed them under some sort of spell- Kagome wasn’t totally sure if her friends were also somewhere inside. It had all happened way too quickly. One second she’d been fighting alongside her comrades- the next, waking up inside a bizarre hellscape.

Sadly the only person she’d seen thus far was Sesshoumaru of all demons. When they’d first bumped into each other- blue and gold had narrowed- both quickly turning in the opposite directions.

Gradually, however, time wore on. A continuous mist obscured every corner of the black maze, its towering walls strangled by twisting, thorny vines. Red skies hung overhead, a barrier likely preventing Sesshoumaru from flying upwards, otherwise he would've escaped by now.

Kagome had just one arrow and one weathered bow. No food, and no water. Just the clothes on her back and strung out nerves, wits starting to fray at the edges. Her footsteps sounded too loud in the empty space. The mist kept rolling, making her paranoid- imagining salivating demons and evil spirits haunting her steps.

Am I going to die in here?

Gritting blunt teeth, Kagome let out a frustrated noise- wrapping her hands around the nearest thorny vines and letting reiki burst free from her fingertips. Maybe she could just blast her way through the wall. Pink light glowed like a signal flare, shimmering and giving her a brief taste of renewed hope.

“It will not work.”

She frowned, registering Sesshoumaru’s acerbic tone. Just as he’d said, when her holy light died, the thorns remained.

Kagome glanced over her shoulder, finding him closer than expected. She shifted warily to maintain some distance. They’d refrained from talking so far during their encounters in the maze. This was unexpected. And worrying. If Sesshoumaru was out of options, things were dire.

“Flying is a no go, I’m guessing?"

He stiffly nodded in response, head tilting back to gaze hatefully at the high walls. Kagome shivered, wrapping both arms around herself. “Damn it. I have no idea what to do. I can sense Naraku’s youki but it's everywhere so there's no chance of pinpointing him. It’s soaked into the air like gasoline."

"I am also unable to locate the wretch."

Kagome blinked, glad he was reciprocating conversation.

"We're locked in a spell or under a curse, I’ve got no doubt about that. I just don’t know if these are our real bodies or not…”

Were they trapped somewhere mentally? Caged like birds?

Sesshoumaru levelled a look down to her hands, gesturing with a claw. “The cuts do not hurt?”

Kagome blinked, flexing her fingers. She hadn’t even realised they’d been pricked by the thorns. “N-no.”

“Then it appears he has either somehow trapped us within a space that has absorbed our conscious minds or put us in an area that dulls the senses. Perhaps a keeper box of some kind," Sesshoumaru said easily, as though he did this all the time.

Kagome’s heart pumped at a dizzying speed. Keeper box. She'd been in one of those before. The face of sage Tokajin came to mind. “Crap,” she whispered.

"Unpleasant memories, miko?" a lofty, entertained tone brushed her hearing.

Kagome sneered half-heartedly, "it's nothing."

Sesshoumaru's eyes glowed, smiling. As if he could see right through her. "Hn."

“We gotta get out of here," she said dismissively. "Since this is Naraku we’re dealing with- I doubt just finding the centre of this maze will let us get outta here and break the curse, and knowing him there’s no exit.”

“Hn, and yet I can think of nothing else after trying everything."

Kagome gave him a sweeping glance over, swallowing. She hadn’t seen him since he’d nearly killed Kohaku- still thankful he’d released the mind controlled boy.

They were still technically enemies despite a shared goal of killing Naraku.

Steeling herself, Kagome took a breath. She then boldly stuck a hand out towards him. “Let’s work together. We haven’t got much choice. Call it a truce.”

Silence.

Kagome chanced a look at his face.

Sesshoumaru merely stared at the offered hand unblinkingly. Kagome giggled weakly. “A-ah, you shake it. It’s an ‘across the seas’ type of gesture to show we’re sealing a deal.”

Interest livened his animalistic gaze. He briefly seemed considering, perhaps wondering about her origins. Long fingers unfurled from his palm, clasping her hand strongly. The shock of skin to skin contact and sharp claws nearly jerked Kagome enough to rip her hand free. She forced herself to stay still, feeling a surge of something shoot down to her toes.

He was warmer than expected. It surprised her that callouses roughened his palm, likely from years of swordplay. She'd always figured he was too inhumanly perfect to have such a thing. Sesshoumaru blinked slowly, remaining locked in a stare. For a moment, Kagome dumbly admired his pretty white lashes.

She caught herself staring and briskly shook his hand, prying her fingers free before gesturing to several pathways, cheeks red. “S-so which way?”

Mokomoko’s soft fur caressed the bare flesh of her lower thigh in passing as Sesshoumaru stepped towards one. “I have yet to take this path. Stay close, troublesome miko," he threw over one shoulder. "I will not slow down for you.”

“Please don’t. You walk slow enough as it is,” Kagome griped, following.

---

Demons began littering the narrow, claustrophobic spaces within the maze. Kagome had to duck and weave around Sesshoumaru as he killed them with acid or fierce swipes of his claws. It forced them to get up close and personal, occasionally plastering miko and Daiyoukai together.

His scent wafted into her unwilling nose more than once- masculine and sharp, reminding her of thunderstorms. Since she couldn’t use her reiki with much finesse yet and the close quarters put her archery skills at a disadvantage, Kagome tried her best to be helpful.

“Behind you!” she’d yell, ducking under his arm before grasping his sleeve. “On your right!”

Sesshoumaru dispatched enemies without argument or complaint, calmly moving on once they lay dead.

As time dragged on, Kagome’s legs began to ache from the endless walking. Her stomach grumbled near constantly. Her limbs and body were becoming weak.

She didn’t breathe a word about it- though noticed Sesshoumaru’s lingering attention. Turning a corner, she stumbled, an arm catching her around the waist, steadying.

Kagome’s belly fluttered, and she quickly straightened. “Thanks.”

“Hn.”

They book occasional breaks, but respite was near impossible with the continued droves of enemies. After what she could only guess to be at least 17 hours- though it felt like days, they finally arrived at the centre of the maze. Exhausted, Kagome kept a hand buried within mokomoko to keep her upright, leaning against the stability he offered. They’d shed a lot of restraint about touch around hour 9 of their journey.

As first suspected however, there was nothing in the middle of the maze. Just a plain space with a single fountain. They hadn’t come across a single exit either.

Kagome’s knees quivered a little, “d-do you have a plan B?” she rasped, throat dry. What she wouldn’t give for some water.

Sesshoumaru stared grimly ahead, slowly lowering his calm attention to her. If she could hazard a guess, he was likely thinking he could survive. He’d weather the storm of hunger and dehydration much longer than she.

“I suspect the reason Naraku lingers is because he predicted I would kill you,” his velvety voice was completely at odds with his words.

Kagome stiffened, leaning slightly away from the warmth of luxurious furs. “...That would make sense,” the admission slipped out, “he’s a sadistic prick. He’s probably watching us right now, getting his kicks from seeing us struggle.”

Sesshoumaru turned to her, lifting a clawed hand. The sharp points gleamed. They could tear through her supple flesh and bones with ease. Kagome had witnessed it enough times to know.

Rendered completely exhausted though, she had little room left for fear. She stared at him blandly, falling quiet.

He arched a brow, resting those deadly claws against her flushed skin, gradually unfurling to hold her neck. “You will not resist?”

“I’ve never taken you to be the kinda guy who would take the easy way out,” Kagome muttered, raising her chin. “Am I wrong?”

Was it her imagination or did his pupils dilate a touch?

She shivered, feeling the pads of his fingers drag against the nape of her delicate neck, thumb resting at her throat.

“No,” he rumbled softly, gripping tighter and drawing her in closer. “But since we have an audience, miko,” his voice lowered, “let us give him a show.”

Blue eyes widened- seconds before lips crashed to hers. Kagome gasped- and a sinuous tongue took advantage, shoving inside to plunder her mouth. Sensation slammed into her gut. Suddenly she was immediately aware of everything. The warmth of his palm, the dry rub of his callouses along her neck. The goosebumps rising on her flesh. How his tongue skilfully played, twined and slid against her own- and she found herself responding.

His lips were hot and quick across her own, firm and yielding and then parting to meet her tongue with his anew. Kagome’s breath shuddered. Her entire body thrummed. She found herself touching the fine, soft locks of silver hair behind his ear, strands running through her fingers like water. Their mouths broke apart, and Kagome could only give a breathy gasp as he sucked along the bent arch of her throat.

“Behind me, to the left,” he whispered, kissing her flesh bruisingly hard.

“I know,” she panted.

It happened quickly. They moved in sync- Kagome reaching for her bow and nocking her single arrow while Sesshoumaru turned, angling her to fire at the faint ripple in the sky they’d both sensed the second they’d kissed.

While the blazing firework of pure holy energy streaked into the air, the Daiyoukai followed its progress, flying with Kagome in tow. She held on around his shoulders, praying with all her might it would break through.

Her arrow pierced the demonic barrier- shattering the weak spot immediately. Sesshoumaru broke through, leaving the world of red skies and unsolvable mazes behind.

---

Kagome sucked in a gasping, strangled breath, shooting upright.

“Kagome! She’s awake, guys!”

Putting a hand to her head, she looked to her side- only to be greeted with the sight of Sesshoumaru sitting up from the ground, both of them having been sprawled out. Around them, battle raged. Inuyasha was fighting diligently, swiping madly at continuous rounds of regenerating tentacles.

Miroku and Sango seemed to be on guard duty, having been defending their unconscious bodies. Shippo immediately buried his face in Kagome’s arm, holding onto her. “You’ve been asleep for a good hour after you were both hit by that attack! Naraku kept trying to kill you! Ah- I’m so glad you’re safe!”

Kagome comforted him with a few gentle pats upon his head, murmuring softly. The shifting of weight caught her attention, and she watched as Sesshoumaru stood. He sneered softly to himself, “I do not know why you saw fit to protect this one, but I did not need your aid, humans.”

“I told ya!” Inuyasha shouted from somewhere in the distance.

“We couldn’t let you be absorbed by Naraku or he’d be even more formidable,” Sango griped.

“What my friends mean to say is- you’re welcome, Lord Sesshoumaru,” Miroku amiably smoothed over the situation.

Sesshoumaru grunted, securing his swords in place. Then, slowly, his eyes lowered.

Kagome exhaled a shuddering breath. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, cheeks burning with all the voracity of a fever, chest light and heavy all at once. Sesshoumaru’s gaze fell to the subtle parting of her mouth, before looking her in the eye for just one more lingering moment. He then moved out from behind the protection Sango and Miroku offered, racing headfirst into battle.

He just did it to break the spell, that’s all.

He’d kissed her to help flush out a weak spot from their enemy, which had opened from Naraku's shock- having lost brief control of the spell. Thinking about it as anything more than that would be foolish.

Shaking herself, Kagome followed suit. She grabbed her bow and nocked an arrow, pushing down all confused thoughts and sensations that Sesshoumaru’s wicked mouth had elicited- entering the fray alongside her friends.

[knjoodles]

sallang; taehyung | 01

pairing: singlefather!taehyung x reader

genre: fluff

recommended song: come on get higher by matt nathanson

word count: 2K

warnings/author’s note: this first chapter is slightly suggestive. nothing that i’d consider smut-worthy, but a warning never hurts! i’m also starting this as a mini-series, with short chapters and an overall short story. glad to be back!

summary: handsome, intelligent, fashionably late: taehyung seems to be a total package, and you’re all for it. that is, until his rain-checks and delayed appearances become so frequent that you feel left in the dark. what could he possibly be hiding?

sallang - a word describing the manner of the wind blowing lightly.

lowercase intended

this is a major waste of my time is what you thought as you rhythmically tapped your fingers against the clothed wooden table of a local restaurant, your knee bouncing impatiently against the floor, your free hand holding your head, glancing around in pure boredom. with how much time you’d spent staring at the wall beside you, you’d probably noted every color its paint compiled. it was your first date with a man from tinder who you realized was way out of your league — and you began to fear that he realized it way before you did.

snaking your phone from your back pocket, leg still bouncing, a deep sigh escaping your lips, you opened his profile once again. “kim taehyung, twenty-five, huh?” you filed through his tab once again, mumbling as you read. “likes reading, going to the beach… do you like being late, too?” you hissed, “because, from the looks of it, its like you get off on—”

“excuse me?”  

your thoughts of innermost annoyance suddenly subsided at the sound of a deep, masculine voice from above you. your head darted upwards to find none other than kim taehyung standing in black slacks with a complementary white shirt to match, his chest rising and falling, almost like he’d run to your date. “are you (y/n)? i’m taehyung… from tinder?” his eyebrow pricked up as he finished his sentence, an embarrassed smile cracking across his face. you stared at him for a moment, taking in the man standing before you. (y/n)? upset at kim taehyung? never. seeing him in person, you’d almost completely forgotten you were irritated.  

“yeah, that’s me. have a seat,” you smiled awkwardly, chuckling softly. you watched as taehyung hooked his casual blazer, previously wrung lazily around his arm, onto his chair. he sat down quietly, moving his seat closer to the table, adjusting his glasses and jet black hair. a moment of silence fell between the two of you, taehyung picking up his menu to appear preoccupied in the dinner menu. you smiled to yourself, catching glimpses of his eyes blinking rapidly as he excitedly scanned the text, a habit that’d already made itself known. you began to notice how he’d glance up at you every so often, chewing his lip, flustered, almost as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words to do it.

“i’m sorry for being so late,” he admit, sighing. “i had something to take care of earlier, and it took a lot longer than i’d hoped,” he set his menu down, toying with its edge with his finger. “i...” he paused, “i apologize. i know it must’ve been inconvenient for you.” you took this moment to eye taehyung's hands, slender and dainty, his fingers long and adequate.  

you laughed at his slightly frantic tone. “it’s fine, don’t worry about it. you’re here now, right? let’s focus on that. you wanna tell me a little more about yourself, ot should i go first?” you assured, smiling comfortingly. “your bio only tells me so much.”

“uh, okay!” he nodded, resting his hands on the table. “well, i’m taehyung, i recently received my bachelor’s and i’m aiming for a phd in english, i don’t care for coffee all that much, i love pretty much all animals you can find, and… i’m 5’11".” he introduced himself with detail as he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, pulling them up to only reach past his elbows. “how about you?”

“oh, my turn?” you questioned, earning a giggle from the man facing you. “i guess it’s only fair. i’m (y/n), i’m pursuing law as of now, we can lay low on coffee if you’d like — i don’t really mind. i like going on simple dates, i love music recommendations, i love musicians, and i’m significantly shorter without these heels on.” you finished, content that either taehyung had a really bad sense of humor or that your finishing line made a better impression than you’d thought it ever could. 

“does this fulfill your requirement of a simple date?” taehyung inquired playfully, lightly patting the table.

“it does,” you replied, tone flirtatious. you noticed taehyung eyebrow raise and jaw tighten at your response as he cracked a smirk, entertained at the shift in energy. that look jumbled your insides, but there was no time for that. you expelled those thoughts from your mind as you cleared your throat, silently scolding yourself. your moment was interrupted by a waitress, the same one who’d pitifully watched you poke at the complimentary sourdough bread slices with an empty seat in front of you. offering to kindly take your menus and your orders, the two of you obliged. as she scurried away from your table, a notepad with messy handwriting scribbled across it dangling from her waist apron, you turned back to taehyung, whose eyes were glued to you, one of his hands caught in his hair as he ran a hand through it. “hey,” he muttered, his voice deep, his eyebrow habitually twitching upwards once more. was he trying to make you unravel in the middle of your date?

“oh my god,” you laughed, trying to shake off how flustered you were. “you can’t just do that and expect me to be okay!” you joked.

“do what?” he chuckled in return. “the deep voice? i can’t control that; it just happens sometimes,” he smiled at his lap, looking back up at you soon after. “you said you were interested in musicians?”

“i mean, it’s not a necessity, but yeah, i find musicians especially interesting.” you explained, reaching for your glass of cold water, ice half melted.  

“i don’t want to brag, but when i was in high school, i was in a band.” he grinned as your jaw dropped. your mind raced with thoughts of how flawless he was, from how well he dressed to how every secret of his made him ten times more attractive. “it was just seven of us, seven of my friends. some would rap, some would sing. i was a singer, and i was really invested in the group. after we all graduated, the group kind of fell out, but we’re all still friends. cool, huh? i would play a little bit of everything, from piano to guitar. more piano, though.” he added, tilting his glass of water towards you, his attractive grin infectious.  

“that’s crazy,” you gasped, leaning forward in your chair. “ever thought of getting the band back together? you’ve got the looks!”

“the looks?” he repeated, laughing excitedly. “you’re giving me too much credit here, (y/n),”

“i don’t think you’re giving yourself enough,” you replied, raising your eyebrows, challenging his humble temperament.  

the two of you dined contentedly, taehyung's charismatic personality and contagious smile catching you every time. the conversation, surprisingly, were never boring, they flowed into one another the way good friends converse after not seeing each other for a long time. his mannerisms and aura struck you as welcoming and comforting, as if he was a bright, warm light you wanted to step into. he was safety embodied, he was a simple, gentle man, with kindness and love pouring out of his soul. to your multiple objections, taehyung covered the bill, still feeling guilty over arriving late. a part of you inexplicably pitied him; you felt as though you should’ve at least pitched in half. it may have just been your morals being challenged, but you almost felt obligated to pay him back.  

dusting off his trousers, taehyung arose from his chair, your date coming to a close. a wave of childish frustration fell over you: you didn’t want it to end, not yet! to your surprise, he glided to your side of the table, chivalrously offering his hand to help you up. you smiled and took his hand graciously, his endless good-natured acts perplexing you. who was this guy? other than being late, was there really a flaw?

as you arose from your seat, you decided the answer to the latter question was no. this was absolutely the best date you’d ever been on: he wasn’t obnoxious, he wasn’t boisterous, he didn’t ask you for anything afterwards… you’d been with your fair share of unforgettably horrible men. taehyung was different, though: it wasn’t that he was just more decent than the men you’d previously gone out with, it was his aura, his persona, it was something above physicality that made you fall for him more than you thought you should.  

“thank you for the lunch,” you smiled graciously as he accompanied you out of the restaurant, opening the door for you as well. “this was really enjoyable! i hope we can do this again soon.”

“me too! thank you for being so nice to me despite me being late.” he returned your kind grin before grasping for his buzzing phone in his pocket, pulling it out to check an apparent text. “i, uh…” he swallowed, now visibly anxious. “would you like me to walk you to your car?” his tone completely different from his physical state.  

“i’m just over there!” you motioned to your car, stammering, confused by his sudden shift in energy. “if you have something important to get to, you go ahead!” he relaxed slightly, thanking you kindly and pulling you into a warm embrace. it felt shocking, but not in a bad way — his very intimidatingly handsome appearance contrasted with how gentle he had been with you. should you have liked him this much on the first date alone?

“i’ll see you soon! i can text you my number on tinder later. thank you again!” he jogged backwards, still making eye contact before he finished his statement, where he then turned completely and began dashing towards his car. you found him charming and funny and it made you smile.  

spinning on your heel to walk towards your car, you spun the chain of your car keys on your finger, the thought of taehyung still with you. he’d been perfect: good-hearted, humble, witty… you could go on. you sat quietly in the front seat of your car, thumbing the leather of your steering wheel. part of this felt very suspicious — how could someone be this perfect? how could someone be this enjoyable, this wonderful, this considerate? you didn’t want to feel this way about him as he felt wholly genuine, but you couldn’t ignore the feeling of possibly being lied to. was he messing with you? he absolutely could be. what would you know?

you'd thought yourself into a corner. suddenly, you felt very bad, sitting alone in your car in a silent parking lot. you closed your eyes tightly and sighed loudly, trying to expel as much upset as you could from your body. you’d just had an amazing date! you shouldn’t be feeling this bad afterwards. taking a moment to collect yourself once more, you started your car, dusting yourself off before driving yourself home, the scent of taehyung’s faint cologne lingering in your mind.

i missed u guys :}. enjoy this piece from me!

[house-md-obsession]

Shake [James Wilson x Reader] Part Three

153 hours prior.

The talking on the TV jolted her awake. Some rerun of a sitcom found itself playing on the television. Her eyes flit open as she gained awareness of her surroundings. She felt the warmth of the soft quilt James keeps on his couch, it offering the comfort of the late nights she'd spent over there. The smell comforted her— cedar wood... and... Chinese food?

She glances to her right, to see James slurping down lo mein, chopsticks sitting in his hands. When he realizes she's awake, he hastily sets the food down on the coffee table in front of him, and flashes her a smile.

  "Hey, ___. How are you feeling?" He asks, sitting up and readjusting his position. He leans forward a little, finding himself a little closer as she tiredly pushes herself upright. She wipes the sleep from her eyes, and feels her hair tie at the end of a long-fallen ponytail. Her hair was nothing short of a mess, but that was the last thing she'd worried about. She had long given up on how she looked once she had gone two nights without sleep.

  "Honestly? Foul." She muttered, her voice raspy. He struggled to keep for letting out a soft laugh. She tried running her fingers through her tangled hair, and found her fingers caught. She pouted.

  He felt his heart nearly skip a beat.

  "I bought some takeout. I snagged you some sweet and sour chicken if you get hungry. You don't have to eat but I figured I've seen you eat very little since this last case."

  He stood up and walked towards the kitchen.

  "Oh, and here's some Tylenol. You took some earlier but I can't imagine it's still working."

  She suddenly once again felt the headache that had creeped up on her earlier, as if the mention of Tylenol had served as a reminder.

  "Thank you." She said, hoarse voice finding itself softened as he walked back towards her. His soft brown hair was a little askew— small strands of his normally well kept hair hung in front of his softened, mature features. His cheekbones caught the light of the buildings that shone through his opened window. The sun was setting and the orange in which that faintly painted the room was welcomed as the brightness gradually softened and her eyes eased.

  "Yeah, of course." He said, in which she noticed he had grabbed a glass of water for her in the time he ventured over. He handed it to her, his gentle hands making sure her tired ones had a grasp on the glass before letting go, the mildest of touches graced her fingertips.

'His hands are warm.' She thinks to herself.

  He sits down on the couch next to her as she swallows the pills, downing half the glass as well. He laughs softly, no hesitation this time.

  "Should I look into purchasing you a water tower?" He jokes. She flashes him a smile and softly smacks his upper thigh.

  "What time is it?" She asks, and he flicks his watch up at him. She see finds herself for a split second studying his forearm, almost admiring its masculinity. 'Let's not be weird, ___.' She thinks, and her eyes avert.

  "Seven fifty-eight." He says, and she stretches before finding herself back where she was, their upper arms touching as she was just a little closer than before.

  "How long was I out? Time tends to blur together after the first day."

  He glances up at the ceiling for a moment, before turning his gaze to the TV that was on.

  "Hmmm, about four and a half hours I'd say. You passed out in the car, and it took a while to get you in. And you fought with me over offering you my bed."

  "Yeah, offering to let me crash in your bed is a little weird." She said, dryly.

  "Oh yes, God forbid I look out for one of my best friends that couldn't tell if something six inches from her face was within reach less than four hours ago." He almost upsettingly muttered, and relaxed once he glanced over and saw a small smile decorated upon her younger features. He watched for a moment as her eyes drifted closed, her seemingly lost in her own train of thought. He watched as her eyes opened once again and he quickly retrained his focus back onto the TV.

  "Thanks for taking me home and letting me stay here for a little while. I appreciate it, James." She said, her eyes trained on him again as he watches the TV. 'He seems to be so focused on the show. I wonder if he'd even notice if I left.'

  Her mention of his name had him trained on the way it left her lips. He doesn't know what, or why, but it failed to leave his mind.

  A click of the doorknob down the hall jolted her upwards.

  "Of course. I just hope you don't think you're going home yet." She turned around, to be greeted by the rugged features of her boss, as he made his way towards the two. The tap of his cane against the hardwood was a familiar noise that simultaneously relaxed her but kept her on edge.

  "Well, I have work at six in the morning. I should probably make my way home." She said, vaguely confused.

  "No you don't. Forced vacation. If you show up to the hospital for any reason for the next week other than to fawn at your old-man crush Doctor James Wilson, you're fired." He said, before walking towards them. She felt a hot flash radiate over body she became flustered with his words. 'He has a creative way of getting under my skin.' He motions for the two to part, as he plops down in between them. The words her boss spouted hardly even registered. It was just the generalized annoyance his presence brings in which she rolled her eyes.

  "Leave her alone. Someone in their twenties can be friends with someone in their forties. It's not a wild concept, House."

  "No. Only reason someone as attractive as her would befriend someone in their forties is because she's into old men. Someone to pay her debts from medical school because they've paid off their own."

  "House, seriously?" Wilson asked, dumbfounded. He could feel her shutting down from across the couch.

  "You're an ass." She says, and finds herself walking towards James room, in which she closes the door behind her.

  House glances over to his friend, whose lips have curled up into a smile.

  "You're good at that." Wilson says.

  "Annoying her so she will finally take care of herself for once? I've done it a time or two." House said to his friend.  "Besides. I need her. You may want her to be around but I actually need her. To save lives and stuff." House teased. Wilson scoffed.

  "Of course I like having her around. I mean, in the same regards I like having you around. I care about her, I'm going to want her to take care of herself."

  "Yeah, but you almost parent her. It's like a weird fatherly fetish."

  "This has nothing to do with our age difference of maybe ten years. She is twenty-nine. She is more than an adult and also, I do not parent her. I just want what is best for her. Same way I do that for you." James explained, but House wasn't biting that explanation, and neither was he.

  "Whatever. She's hot. You're like every other man and like to look without commitment. I'm sure if you asked she'd send you nudes so you can see more and stop pretending to care." House said. Wilson felt himself get frustrated with that comment.

  "I'm not like you, House. I can have real friendships, as well as ones with the opposite sex. So what if she's attractive? That doesn't matter to me. I mean yes, it's nice to... look. But for me not every relationship I foster is purely sexual." Wilson said, standing up, walking away from the couch.

  "Whatever helps you sleep at night!" House loudly called.

  "SHHHH! She's trying to sleep!"

147 hours prior.

  She awoke to the familiarly loud buzzing of her phone. Sitting up, she found her phone plugged in on the nightstand next to her. 'James must've plugged it in for me at some point while I was asleep.' She thought, and further noticed a glass of water once again on the nightstand as well as a bottle of Tylenol and a note.

  She glanced to see the caller identification was none other than her friend, Remy. She tiredly picked up the phone, and was greeted by the familiar voice.

  "Hey, how're you feeling?" Her soft voice asked through the phone. ___ sat upright, letting out a grunt as she did. Her body seemed to feel even heavier than when she was sleep deprived. ‘Waking up is going to be a bitch.’

“Tired. As fuck. I need to get up and around but I don’t know if I can muster the energy to. James bed is…. so comfy.”

“Well, good thing I’m right outside. We’re getting coffee.”

[everythingthemoontouches]

Heyy! sorry for bothering but can u do how my fs may look like?:)

Hiii ☺️

Clairvoyant image :

A man in a white shirt, with his hands in his pockets, walks forward from a tree in a forest / woods. I grew up with my grandmother and he stares at some kids playing. I couldnt tell if those were from his past. It feels like he is fond of the kids in the present. But perhaps they don't live there any longer. Like a vision of the past. A river flowing.

Now for the cards

As I was shuffling the 6 of swords almost leapt out. In this deck it shows a little boy in a boat being rowed away by a mother figure. A lady in white. Someone pure and food who probably loves him a lot. It speaks to me of not having much, or leaving to start over. Maybe your fs was raised by a single woman. I'm feeling more grandmother vibe than mother's energy. He could have immense respect for feminine strength and grace.

A light stubble. Someone who whistles nonchalantly. Is deeply connected to forests/roots in a way. Major God Pan energy.

The 6 of swords has a very Aquarian energy. Maybe you guys could have synastry aspects involving cancer, Capricorn, aquarius, or saturn.

As I was shuffling for his face, I saw someone come up to my tabke, roll up his sleeves and sit down gazing into your eyes. I think they're pretty smooth and when he looks at you it feels like you're all that exists? Super romantic. But also a bit devious in the beginning?

Idk maybe he is counting his losses when you meet him. Or you find him doing some sneaky shit. Maybe leaving a party. Or doing something he shouldn't be and you join in on the prank. This could be quite strategic and be good at manipulation when he feels he needs to put his guard up? It maybe he just has too much going on.

Nose: what does he breathe life into? The queen of pentacles came up so this fs is super creative. You know how they say give a woman a house and she makes a home out of it, give her a loaf of bread and you have a delicious home cooked meal? This is basically someone who looks very fertile. And rich. Aristocratic feature. A thin shapely nose. Could like wearing rings. Some thi f about their hair could stand out. Or the way they hold their head. Contemplative. Probably on the leaner side.

Lips : soft. Plush. Plump. Soft kisses. Kind. Sweet looking mouth. Like it would speak words of love? Kind. Wholesome. Upward turn of the lips. Ace of cups.

Eyes they say are windows to the soul. And your future spouse is a fighter. And an excellent orator. Someone with a quick mind and equally sharp tongue. They could look like someone who rushes into things. Or jumps to assessments. I feel like he may be in fight or flight mode with his heart because there's very few people he could have trusted? I'm not sure if you're into girls. Maybe they juts have a strong feminine side. But likely didn't have a lot of healthy masculine providers. And he(?) doesn't want to repeat history. Is a little guarded with their heart and when hurt, could be really rude? Think Gemini energy. But they also look like they'd fly to your rescue if you needed it. Their eyes could have that challenging spark in them? Like they raise their eyebrow at you saying bet you can't finish all that icecream all by yourself when you're too sad to eat. It's how they encourage people. Via Challenges.

Noww, speaking of their personality type, I'd say this is someone who has learned to still their heart and find that calm voice even as a Strom rages around them, phsycially or emotionally. Could have a somewhat warped view of relations and how bad the world is. And it's soemthing you could help them with. Basically I feel like you're gonna call them out on their shit and they're gonna love you for it.

It feels like a wholesome relationship. Like they love you so much my heart feels overwhelmed. There's a lot of genuine affection and devotion coming through. They're sassy too.

That's all I've got for you today, hope you enjoyed the reading. You could book consultations by emailing me at everythingthemoontouches@gmail. Com if you'd like more detailed readings ☺️