#more importantly why do you force this upon others and just think its okay

[wizard-mp4]

Lunch breaks should be 1 hour minimum change my mind

[pencil-peach]

Thinking about Guel Jeturk (Pt 1)

He is such a cool character. He's such a genuine piece of shit and at the start of the show I really thought, even if he did change, that I wouldn't like him, but by the time the show ended I genuinely wanted for his happiness as much as every other character.

So I just wanna talk about him I guess

Cringe analysis under the cut awooo awooOOoooOooo

I think it's important that Guel starts off the show as just an actual shithead. He's just the misogynist bully archetype at its core and he treats Miorine like property and everyone else like they're beneath him, but it's also important to understand the context of that behavior too.

Guel has basically everything. Money, Prestige, Power, Respect. Everything has essentially been handed to him on a silver platter, and as long as he continues to win duels (the only thing he is actually, GENUINELY good at) that won't change. And with that comes an insane amount of pride and arrogance. He expects things to go his way because, for basically his entire life, that's just how things have always been. In the business world that he's been surrounded by, the strong always win out over the weak.

But with Suletta, all of the pride and respect that comes with his title and status is utterly and completely meaningless to her.

And he tries his classic shtick of listing out all of his titles on her, because in the world he lives in, that alone is what makes him worthy of either fear or respect.

But it doesn't work on Suletta, because the world of the Benerit Group is not the real world, the one she lives in. She repeatedly looks past all of his flashy titles and admonishes and judges him for his BEHAVIOR, the true merit of his character.

When she agrees to duel him, Guel sees it as putting an ignorant girl in her place. And why would he believe otherwise? He's always been on top at Asticassia, and this is no different. Dueling is the one thing that he KNOWS he's good at. It's the one skill that is definably his, that he truly earned through his own hard work. It's why he get so upset and defensive when Suletta looks down on him.

But the important thing here is that he LOSES to Suletta. BADLY.

And the lesson Guel is forced to learn from this loss is that every single thing he latched onto in his life, everything that he decided makes him worthy of respect and admiration, is not only immaterial, but, more importantly, conditional.

His pride and status, his role as heir of the Jeturk Company, and, most damning of all, his father's love, was based entirely on whether or not he was the current Holder at Asticassia.

Because he lost one duel, (the FIRST duel he had ever lost, mind you) a duel to a Gundam that, based on what we know, was quite literally unwinnable, Guel's father slaps him across the face and yells at him.

Before the rematch, when Guel is told that the Darilbalde is piloted by an AI, his father slaps him across the face AGAIN and tells him straight up that his feelings do not matter if he's not the Holder.

Which is why the scene where Suletta defends him from Secelia's taunts and explains her motto is so important

Everyone in Guel's life at this point, even his own father, looks down upon and mocks him for losing the duel. But Suletta isn't. She just tells him that even though he lost, he still deserves praise for not running away.

This is probably the first time in his life anyone has ever just told him that. That it's okay that he lost. That it's enough that he just tried.

Quick aside, but this moment here, when Suletta is talking about how much her mother means to her, and Guel holds his hand up to the cheek his father slaps him across hasn't, and will probably never, leave my brain.

But Suletta's words don't reflect Guel's reality. And the fact that he lost means even more is being taken from him, including his ability to even duel.

During the rematch, the Darilbalde doesn't even respond to his input. He, like Miorine, is having all of his decisions made for him, because without the title of holder, he's utterly powerless.

And the truly tragic thing here is that, once Guel smashes the AI and begins fighting on his own, he starts doing much better than when the AI was fighting and his father was cheating for him. He was genuinely a match for Permet 1 Aerial. But it's too late.

Maybe this is just me, but I always got the impression that if Guel was able to fight this battle on his own from the start, it would have been much more even, and he might have even won. But he didn't. He lost, again. And because of this, things are going to get much worse for him, really damn fast.

[talenlee]

Why Do Droids Scream?

In the Star Wars universe, there’s a class of characters known as droids. They’re robots, manufactured, created, bought and sold. They are also entirely capable of sentience, complex tasks, and, most importantly, they can feel pain, distress, and anxiety. There is at no point in any of the Star Wars media I have seen

— which, considering my antipathy towards the entire franchise, is a lot —

do we get a meaningful description of why these droids are the way they are. I’ve been told that R2D2 is the way it is because it’s gone without being wiped periodically, which doesn’t really help things in any way. ‘Cos if R2D2 develops an advanced personality and his own peculiarities if he’s not wiped then that means that all the other droids in the world are just these nascent individuals, building an identity that is then actively suppressed by the people who can buy and sell them, and do, and scrap them when they fail to provide adequate utility.

Setting aside the whole culture of robot slavery for just a moment, we do see manufacturing plants and hear model numbers for these characters. It’s implied, to some extent, that R2D2 isn’t a name, it’s a code, and it’s a code for signifying this particular R2 unit, and we hear it’s called an R2 unit. There are hypothetically, a bunch of them, and with a two digit appelation including numbers we could have up to 1300 of them spread across this entire Galaxy Far Far Away. That’s probably a lot if we’re talking about, say, building a prop in a movie theatre, but it’s really not many if we’re talking about a common piece of ship piloting equipment manufactured at scale for a galaxy-spanning empire of I’m going to guess, more people than live in New York.

Probably.

But the thing is, my dishwasher is, after a fashion, a robot that exists to fulfill a function in my house. It can take orders, it can report failures, and it can tell me when it’s done a task. It can’t load itself, but it’s coordinated by a simple computer that I can interface with, and do the job of a human better than a human can do with the same tools available. At no point in the crafting of it, the manufacture of its components and the design of the systems that work with it, did anyone think,

“You know what, it should be able to scream.”

That was a thing you had to choose to put into it! That’s a thing that you had to deliberately decide to do with your robot design, to add to the way it can work, to choose to make it that whatever interface it has is something that has the ‘scream in pain’ function. And that’s for a device that may in situations be called upon to go places where humans can’t go, and where they might get damaged!

And now we have to talk about the culture of robot slavery, because there’s also like, other kinds of slavery in this setting, slavery that’s widespread and common enough that I haven’t seen a single piece of media in the space that doesn’t mention or intersect with it. It’s not just the dystopia of the Empire that thinks slavery is okay, there are numerous communities that have slavery and nobody really thinks that’s a problem. Jedi may save a slave, but they don’t do anything completely morally justifiable like killing a slaver and leaving, because The Force.

‘Well you don’t know that would make things better’ don’t I though? I know the world would feature minus one slaver, and it’s not like the slave is a non-factor here. In fact, lots of slaves would take things into their own hands if say, someone could get them weapons, y’know, hint hint.

Basically, the robot slavery in Star Wars isn’t a problem because it’s just more slavery. Nobody in the universe is really doing anything about the slavery, because we see it at any point in time, for any reason. It’s also weird because it’s not like we see slavery being in any way meaningful for profit or practiced on scales sufficient for industrial production, except the slavery of the clone troopers.

I mean, they’re owned by an army and deployed as objects and don’t have rights to choose another life, they’re very much slaves.

A while ago I said that Star Wars defies material analysis, and I still mean that, because it’s a stupid universe where things don’t make sense materially. It’s an emotional world. It’s a world where how things feel in the last five minutes and the next five minutes are the important things, and getting those emotions, attuning to those emotions are important. The world doesn’t have to get better or respond to things like economic concerns, because that’s a world of material conditions. It’s a world of feelings.

A world of feelings can make the reformation of Darth Vader meaningful; he was fighting Luke and then he changed sides and he died looking at his son and then we see his ghost in the celebration and that’s a big change and it feels right. The second you think ‘hey, didn’t this guy murder a room full of children, who are not showing up here in the cool ghosts party,’ it sort of ruins that moment.

Fundamentally, Star Wars is not really a franchise where the stories actually benefit from being explained. They either make sense to you in the most immediate sense or they don’t make sense at all. Every single attempt to explain a thing in Star Wars has made the whole world worse. R2D2 feels things because it’s a character and C3PO can have anxiety because it’s funny and nobody needed to design those things because they’re not robots, they’re people.

Everything in it sucks because it sucks, and that’s okay, because it needs to suck so you can show characters triumphantly saving this world that sucks and not making any changes to it, because the saving the world feels good, regardless of how the world, itself, feels.

Why’s it work that way?

Because there’s a story, making it work that way.

It’s called the Force.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Uncategorised

[doublegoblin]

Rituals and Red Tape: Chapter 9

How?

No really, how?

Peppered with dark soil against the polished white plastic, a phone. Tossing the bush aside I stare down at this impossibility.

Well, maybe not impossible, more improbable.

With an unsteady hand I gingerly press a finger upon the cold exterior. Perhaps I was hoping for it to vanish? Yet it defiantly remained, buzzing and ringing. Its place in this reality cemented, I grasped the device and silenced it with a button press.

Okay, lower level item displaced into a higher level reality. An item already tied to an intrusion of said lower level being…shit…what the hell is that under again?

I turned the phone over in my hand and absently inspected the outer shell.

More importantly, a pit formed in my stomach, how much trouble am I going to have to go through about you?

Some unseen force must have been wanting some entertainment. As soon as that thought crossed my mind the phone lit up once more. Loudly announcing there was a new notification. Curiosity had sunk their cold talons into my skull and I was but their puppet now. Calling upon all the arcane secrets and rites of the twisting arts; I looked to the smudges on the screen and brute forced the passcode.

I’m in!

Staring back at me was the smiling face of some woman; scantily clad and in what I would assume to be a provocative pose? Multicolored widgets and icons all fought for my attention with small motions and numbers encased in scarlet bubbles. The overwhelming possibilities stayed my fingers.

This has got to be the most cluttered device I’ve seen in a long while. Several missed calls, messages left unread, and so many damn notifications. How can a person function like this? Swiping absentmindedly I hovered my thumb over the photo album. Do I dare? Well I mean…I should. Who knows, maybe he was able to snap some photos of the area before being shepherded off. With a firm press the contents filled the small screen.

Scanning across the rows and columns I spied not a single image of our reality. Many smiling faces, decent photos of landscapes and local architecture, but nothing of our side. More importantly, nothing to offend my sensibilities.

That was until I stumbled across a video.

The first few moments are that of a child’s bedroom. Dim light filters through the cracks in the drawn shades. Sat close to the device is the intruder to whom this phone belonged to. Sitting crossed legged with eyes shut, their mouth moving with utter nonsense. They opened their eyes, looked around, and sighed. There was then a knock at the door.

“Just a sec!” He called back to a muffled voice.

Resuming his stance he closed his eyes tighter. Muttering his garbage, but with more conviction. The recording shifts and bends around the edges. Then for just a brief moment, no more than the space between a breath, I saw myself in the distance of a hazy and undefined collage of shapes. I rewound the footage over and over, thinking perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps I had sought this sight and found it where none existed. Soon a cold dread smothered me, the more I had watched the more certain I had become. Somehow, beyond any reason, this child had managed something which we had thought impossible. Clarity warmed me back up as I broke free of this cycle and erased it from the phone. 

There, taken care of. I mean not that it was a problem. The phone is with me, honestly I don’t know why I was even freaking out. I guess nothing to do but get this to archives and put up with Frank. Other than that, it should be smoo-

A notification.

A little red bubble on the email application.

I press it.

Something about a new comment. 

“Fake as hell. Nice effects tho.”

He put this out into his world?

How?

How?

How!? 

Calm down Alex, the video so far has been ruled out as false. Nobody would actually believe this kind of thing in the first place. You and everything else are alright.

Placing a hand to my chest I took notice of my rapid breaths and focused on slowing everything down. In my panic I had not noticed the dust cloud my robes had kicked up with manic flapping. The sting of the particulates sent me into a small coughing fit; it took my mind off the present matter. Still once again I stuffed the phone into a pocket and paced along the forest floor.

Oh hey Frank! Look I know you must be busy but…no, too informal.

 Excuse me Frank, do you have a second, I need to sp- ugh no, I’d have to explain the concept of a second to him…again. In thought I had grabbed the phone once more and turned it slowly between my fingers. 

Frank, I need to report something. Yeah, that’s a good opener, very direct and to the point. I can then use this to branch off into discussing the offending item.

Rehearsal finished I took a calming breath and stepped through a threshold into the office propper. Stepping through I found myself in darkness. Yet this space felt confined and oppressive, Archives was too large if nothing else. So I stumbled through the inky veil until something brushed the top of my hood. Reflexively I reached up to swat away any unwelcome guest and felt a cord tickle the back of my hand. Grabbing firmly I pulled down on it.

I was in the supply closet.

Sheepishly I cracked the door open and looked around. Once I had established the coast as clear I nonchalantly exited the office vault and made sure to shut the door without making too much noise. Perhaps in my rush I had got my directories mixed around, though I guess the supply closest wasn’t the worst place to accidentally end up?

“I’m sorry sir but you aren’t being any more clear.” Near the office entrance a tired voice caught my attention. 

Maybe this phone business can wait.

Making my way towards the conversation I rounded the corner and spotted Yvonne sitting across from a black phone set atop a marble table. Small black spheres of some liquid rose from the receiver; upon popping they released fragments of words. 

“R-ed” The bubbles announced.

Yvonne placed her head in her hands and sighed. She looked around for any kind of support, her eyes landing on me. Her face glowed and her shoulders relaxed as she sprang up from her seat. Rushing over she grabbed me by the hand and dragged me to the phone.

“Perfect timing boss! Look I have some other business to attend to, please see if you can’t help Frank. Okay bye!” Before I could argue she had already sprinted away out of view. 

Frank sat on his table percolating patiently. I, on the other hand, sat stiffly in the chair. Was this not the moment I was waiting for? Had I not just rehearsed this potential exchange? Then why was I now finding myself mute at a perfect chance? A heavy weight in my robes pinned me into inaction.

“Red.” The bursting of a bubble with my own voice startled me.

The notion of the offending item vanished from my mind. “Forgive me for asking Frank, but how did you come to find yourself up here? Not to say I dislike the visit! It is just an unusual circumstance.”

Frank was silent for a time, bubbles popping with no voice until my own came from their small explosions. “Red.”

“Frank, where is Oracle?” A new dread was taking the place of the phone “Where is Oracle Killigan?”

A momentary pause “...red.”

“I’m sorry Frank, was that a response to my question about Oracle Gulliver or are we still on the previous subject?” The pit was growing deeper now, and I was regretting building such a trust with Frank. I turned away from Frank and spoke softly into my pendant. “Whoever is free, we have a code gray, I repeat Frank is without a handler. Somebody please find Oracle Conrad!”

One of Frank's bubbles popped with the sound of snapping fingers. I shot my attention back to him, sitting tall.

“Frank I don’t mean to be rude, but we both know I am unequipped to handle such…delicate information. I thank you for your trust but we should really find Oracle.” I moved to rise from the chair but two large orbs engulfed my hands and restrained me in place.

“Red.” The table and phone inched closer.

A quiet groan betrayed my placid expression. “Frank, saying the word over doesn’t actually clarify anything, is red describing something? Is it perhaps the color of an object? Are you attempting to express a vague idea through the use of color? C’mon you have to give me something.” I struggled against the restraints, they tightened.

The dial on the phone clicked and spun of its own accord slowly. From the receiver two large bubbles rose and hung ominously in the air inches from my face. I waited with bated breath, watching them bob lazily in the peripherals of my vision. “I apologize Frank, I once again spoke out of line.” I rocked back and forth in the seat trying to tip it over, maybe even undo the bindings that kept me still. “But, and forgive my tone, red is such a vague concept and I am not your Oracle. I am not wise beyond my years and able to interpret your divine words with such clarity.” 

The cord of the phone looked to curl into a wry smirk.

Then the bubbles burst.

“Scar.” “Let.”

“Board member Frank,” I tapped my foot quickly, “Patron of Archives and Sealer of Documents. Last lord of the final word. Grand Duke of the Obscuring Mark…” I couldn’t contain it any longer. “That is just the same word! You haven’t said anything different! I implore you to understand this!”

“Scar-let!”

“Saying it louder doesn’t change any of the meaning Frank! Nor does saying it quicker, slower, softer, nothing! I do not understand wh-!”

 The office doors squealed open letting forth a deluge of overwhelming aromatic haze. Sour grapes mingling with freshly spun cotton candy, drizzled in streams of burnt caramel. Assaulting my senses and forcing my mind to run foggy. A man, shirtless with hair flowing in tight curls down to just under his chest, loomed in the vacant space. His tired eyes and slacked grin belied a far better understanding of the universe than any could hope to come close to. With each step forward the charms and relics hanging from his neck clattered and chimed the drifting smoke and vapors twisting in the breeze. Brushing the hair from his face he squatted down between Frank and I, staring off into the middle distance. As I went to speak he held a finger near my lips, the cyan paint on his nail was chipped from mindless picking. Eyes sparkling with a revelation he giggled.

“Alex, you are a clever dreamer. But your mind is too rigid, bound in a shell of porcelain. You think too much on what is being presented as is, but you give little mind to what it should be as. Feel no shame however, you are merely fulfilling your role, as now am I. Ponder on the word. Red is the lowest of frequency for what our eyes can see. It is also the color of life, the color of blood. Blood is a valuable resource, freely spent and gained through transactions. What happens when the blood runs out? When life runs out? Darkness. It is so clear to me now, Frank I thank you for this message.” He rises and holds his hands to the ceiling and grins ear to ear.

The entire office is now staring at Oracle, breath held.

“And what is that message?” I inquire.

Oracle lowers his hands and gaze down to me. “We are low on ink, and Frank was looking to acquire some from your supply.”

“Oh…yeah sure,” I look to Curtis, he nods and grabs a few boxes from behind his cubicle. “We’re still waiting on a shipment, will three be enough?” Curtis places them on Frank's table. 

From the receiver a large black orb engulfs the table and phone. Upon bursting, nothing is left other than the sticky stain.

“There is your answer. Thank you for your assistance Alex.” Oracle Ezra saunters out of the office. It takes several moments for the thick smog to dissipate from the room.

Air and mind cleared once again I sigh and rise from my seat, and make my way back over to the supply closet. I’m sure the shut door muffled most of my sounds but the awkward glances from my coworkers let me know it wasn’t all of them. As I knelt down with a wet rag and bucket the others made themselves scarce and looked busy.

Would it be too big of an issue to just send an email? 

The tar-like material clung desperately to the fibers of the carpet. What I couldn’t wash away I picked at with tweezers.

But no, he needs to materialize up in my office! Pester my coworkers! And then take my supplies! I guess you do get punished for doing a good job sometimes.

“Hey boss!” A chipper voice called from behind me.

Oh well, at least it smells like black licorice this time…or maybe hot asphalt? Either way, I guess he was happy.

“Boss?” I felt a small nudge on my shoulder.

Turning my head around I looked up at Andrea, “Oh hey, you just missed the fun.” Fumbling, I blindly tossed the rag into the bucket.

She waved her hand in front of her nose “Judging by the funk they found Oracle then? What did Frank want? Also do you want a hand with that?” she leaned against a cubicle wall.

Rising to my feet I stretched and felt my back pop in several spots. “He just wanted some of our ink, made a show of it all. But yeah, don’t know who found him but they need to get something for wrangling him…what’s so funny?”

Andrea was covering her smile poorly with her hand, her cheeks red from stifled snickering, “It’s nothing, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt. Please continue.”

“Anyway, so the thing that gets me is that Frank is up here and he just keeps saying ‘Red’. If he wanted ink, why couldn’t he say black!? It wouldn’t have made it that much easier to understand him- seriously what is so funny?” I cross my arms and stare at her beet red face.

Through tears and snickering, “You’ve been gesturing at the wall this entire time.”

Confused, I reach up to touch my chin. 

I end up jabbing the back of my head.

Several sickening cracks and pops later I’m able to pull the hood of my robes down over my face. “Why didn’t you say anything?” I hissed, feeling my temperature rise.

“You were in the middle of a story. I didn’t want to interrupt.” She had braced herself on a desk, doubling over as she fought to keep her laughter down. 

I could feel the eyes of everyone in the office now on me. Their gaze piercing through my very essence. Had it not been for the comforting darkness I would have to meet their judgemental stares! 

“It’s not that funny!” I groaned, lifting my security cowl. 

To my amazement and relief, nobody was taking part in this spectacle other than a tearful assistant. The vapors of Oracle must still be working through me. Clearing my throat I took a rigid posture and waited for Andrea to breathe steadily. Color fading from her scarlet cheeks she let out a final large sigh and wiped some stray tears that had streamed down to her jaw. Going to speak she kept pausing to let another faint giggle or two out.

“O-okay, I’m good. Now what were we talking about again?” I grabbed her hand and led her into my office, shutting the door and opening a new window behind my desk.

“I don’t remember. Let’s just start a new topic, yeah? How did the Morgue visit for Peter and you go?” I took to my leather throne once more.

She sat opposite me and rested her elbows on the desk. “Fine enough. Strange thing was we got there and it must have either been a false alarm, or, somehow the problem got solved without us. Either way, makes for less paperwork.” She fanned her face. “Shit, I had forgotten how strong Oracle’s stuff is. I’m sure the office is going to be a party for a bit. Oh! How was your little vacation?” Her eyes lit up and she scooted the seat closer.

“It wasn’t all too bad, mostly I rented Greg out and had a good time on the town. Sadly it was cut short by Ishmael.”

“How so?”

“I mean you can probably guess. I just wasn’t in any state to join in the fun, I’ve had my fill for the next few cycles. Besides, Greg looked like he needed the release and it would just be a hassle if I was there blah blah blah.” I turned my hand in loose circles as I droned on.

Andrea’s eyes had glazed over, a dopey smile on his lips. Snapping my fingers in front of her face shot her back to reality. “Sorry! I was…uh…thinking about something.”

“He had his shirt on still.” 

She pouted, “So that’s it though, sounds kinda boring to me.”

“Beats sitting behind a desk or getting scolded by upper management.” 

She made some half-hearted noise for a response.

“Hey where is Peter?” I asked.

She shrugged, “Kid got pretty spooked towards the end of the assignment and excused himself.”

“I thought you said there wasn’t an issue?”

“Look, I mean this with kindness and all, that kid is kind of a wuss. Completely fine on the walk up. We talked about how these kind of calls go, what to expect, the whole laundry list. Head high in the clouds, a spring in his step, looked like you on your first few assignments,” she smirked and gently kicked at my shins, “but then we actually get to the place. He’s clinging to me like a tumor. Can barely get the kid to introduce himself once we get inside. Long story short-”

“Oh wow, this was supposed to be the short version?” I smirked back.

“...long and short of it, I have no idea where he scampered off to and you can expect a message from the morgue about his behavior.” 

I sat for a few moments in contemplation. Eyes shut, arms crossed, foot tapping. I then rose from my seat and headed towards the door of the office.

“Do you want me to come with?” She asked.

With a hand resting on the knob, “I think maybe it’s best if you don’t. If I can recall correctly, you made it quite clear the last assignment you wouldn’t be heading back to Sandstone Park any time soon.”

“Yikes, yeah no thanks! Also what makes you so certain he’d be around there?”

“Just call it a hunch. While I’m out, please forward all my messages to the repository. I shouldn’t be long.”

The rushing hot wind of the park cut away any response Andrea could have given. Sandblasted rows and pillars of ornately carved red sandstone peppered the stark white sands they rose out of. Small delicate crystals grew from the loose soil like flowers, each deep red and moving to the breeze. This was a quiet spot, somewhere to reflect, somewhere I had been quite drawn to in my early cycles of being manager. Somewhere an unquiet mind would go. But, not the place to be alone.

[mc-lukanette]

Omg I am loving your dreaded string of fate au this is such an interesting take! As always your writing and ideas absolutely amaze me You are such a wonderful writer! If it isnt too much of a bother could we get some more writing for dsaf? Either way I hope you are staying safe, taking care of yourself, and that overall life is doing you good.

Thanks, everyone! And sure, you can have more!!

—————

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Luka wasn't sure why Marinette had called him over that day. As far as he knew, she was busy with projects, though he wouldn't complain about spending some time with her.

Still, he found himself tensing and steeling himself up as he walked up the stairs to her living room. The hum of her sewing machine could be heard as he got closer, reminding him of clothes, which led to the thought of thread, which then brought his mind to the red string of fate wrapped around her neck. His last venture as Viperion seemed to have improved his sensing, so now he could see someone's red string even if the person on the other end wasn't nearby.

Needless to say, he wasn't looking forward to it with Marinette.

He closed the living room door behind him, then went up the staircase, knocking to let Marinette know he was there. The sound of the sewing machine stopped, and he heard her footsteps come closer followed by the slight creak of the trapdoor.

Marinette's face was revealed to him, offering him a smile, and Luka tried not to stare too much at the red string still tied around her neck. He swallowed, but smiled back at her, which was genuine enough even if he was uncomfortable.

"Come on up," she welcomed, holding the trapdoor up for him. He nodded and walked up the rest of the stairs, hearing the trapdoor close behind him as he took a look around the room. He felt Marinette's eyes on him, but she voiced her thoughts before he could wonder about them.

"You didn't bring your guitar?" she asked.

He glanced at his back, then at her, having no way of telling her the real reason why he'd chosen not to bring it. "Yeah, I didn't. Sorry, did you want me to play for you?"

"Oh! No, it's okay—I mean, of course I love it when you play for me so I always want—but I understand!" She thankfully dropped the subject there, turning away to return to her seat. "You can make yourself at home or help yourself to the fridge downstairs if you want anything!"

"Thanks," he said with a smile, heading over to her chaise lounge and taking a seat on it. Even with Marinette's chair turned away from him while she used her sewing machine, he could still see the red string dangling off the side, though it faded into full transparency before it hit the floor.

In truth, he'd left his guitar behind to force himself to use less music and more words. He didn't want to hide behind it to try and ease his situation or make himself more comfortable with everything. The situation the love of his life - and more importantly, his friend - had gotten into through no fault of her own was horrible, and no matter how uncomfortable he was, he couldn't have been any more uncomfortable than her being strangled by fate itself.

He watched her, waiting for a lull in her work to ask, "Did you need anything?"

"Hm?" She looked over her chair to meet his gaze.

"I'm happy to be here anyway, but I didn't know if you needed me for something," he clarified.

"Oh." She understood. Waving a hand dismissively, she assured, "No! I just invited you here to hang out—" She gestured to her sewing machine, her eyes a bit shifty. "—with me, while I was busy but totally happy and relaxed and everything!"

Her wording was inherently suspicious. His eyes scanned over the room, noting the projects littered about that seemed so plentiful. He supposed he hadn't exactly been subtle in his concern for her, but he wasn't sure of exactly what tipped her off or made her feel like she had to "prove" her happiness to him.

Besides, he knew better, and he knew her. Even with the smile she gave him, her brows were furrowed and twitching, a tiredness to her eyes that definitely didn't show what he would call "happiness."

He gave her a nod anyway, not wanting to call her out when he was still piecing things together himself, and he didn't want to confirm her worries if she was merely suspecting that he felt that way.

He leaned back while she returned to working, his hand on the cushion underneath him as he considered what to say. If Sass was right in his beliefs, then Luka indeed had the power to change Marinette's fate, though there wasn't any specific method of how. He thought back to all of their conversations, wondering what he would've done differently if he'd known beforehand and trying not to get bogged down by "what if"s or blame himself for it.

He stared silently at the back of Marinette's head, remembering the day at the ice rink when he saw the same thing. She'd been running away, or more specifically running towards Adrien after he'd encouraged her to do so. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but from what he gathered from interactions he'd either seen or heard about, it hadn't gone anywhere. Maybe it hadn't even gone well at all.

Maybe he'd made a mistake?

Luka's mind grew heavy with the thoughts, his body falling back to lay down on Marinette's chaise. He didn't regret doing what he felt was right, but now he wondered if his wording could've been better.

"You should probably go over and talk to him."

He hadn't exactly been thinking at the time - a lot had happened that day - but he noted that he could've asked her how she felt. He could've questioned her on if she really wanted to go after Adrien. It was possible she'd wanted to go home on the subway with him, but was convinced to chase Adrien when he brought it up. Luka just imagined Marinette seeing Adrien and Kagami together, the red string tightening around her neck and then loosening when she was presented with the prospect of going after him.

He felt like he was the one being strangled, just thinking about it.

"Luka?"

He looked up, surprised, seeing that Marinette had stopped sewing at some point and had come to sit on the chaise lounge with him. She hovered over him, concern written across her features and the red string taunting him with its mere existence. Luka knew by now that she was very worried about him, and trying to wriggle or half-lie out of it wasn't going to convince her. He'd just really thought that she would've been sewing for longer.

He also jolted up into a sitting position upon realizing that he probably looked like he was making himself too comfy on her chaise lounge. She didn't seem to mind at least.

"...Marinette," he said slowly, trying to put his thoughts in order. She leaned closer as a sign that she was giving him her attention, and he continued, "Do you know why I let you go that day?"

She tilted her head and he belatedly caught that he hadn't been specific, still too lost in his own head. He opened his mouth to clarify, but realization struck Marinette before he could speak, her brows raising in recognition.

"Oh!" she gasped. Though the conversation was sudden, she didn't seem to mind rolling with it. "Um, yeah, I wondered about that sometimes. I mean, I knew that you knew that I—but I didn't know that you—but if you didn't back then, I—"

"No, your song was definitely in my head, even back then," he confirmed casually, smiling as he added, "Since the day we met, remember?"

She blushed at the mention of his confession, but nodded. "Y-yeah." Then, seeming to rethink the moment with that information in mind, she asked, "...Why did you let me go then?"

His eyes flickered to the red string, then back up to her face. "I want you to be happy, Marinette, no matter who it's with. I thought that Adrien would do that, but I hope I didn't make you feel like you had to go after him."

She blinked, the thought having seemingly not even occurred to her. She averted her gaze, her eyes darting around at nothing in particular. "Is...is that why you were looking like that?"

He didn't answer, but that was answer enough for her.

"Oh, Luka," she murmured sympathetically. "I—well—" She shifted uncomfortably. "—I shouldn't be talking to you about this. It'd be wrong when my feelings are so messed up. You..."

He shook his head. "You can talk about Adrien if you want. I'd be happy if you relied on me more."

He meant it. Even regardless of his fate sensing, he wanted Marinette to feel comfortable talking to him, even if it was about her love problems. He didn't want their relationship to be changed because of his feelings for her.

"Even more?" She raised a brow, the concept confusing her, but she didn't question him further. She hesitated, rubbing her cheek in thought, then dropped her hands to her lap and twiddled her fingers. "I-I don't know; about Adrien, I mean. I—" She sighed, giving a halfhearted shrug. "—he's not interested in me. He likes Kagami, but the girls kept telling me that I shouldn't give up on him because of how hard I tried." Then, stiffening, she waved her hands and rapidly assured, "N-not anything against your sister, of course! That's just what happened—and—" She huffed in frustration. "—it feels like I hit a wall, and I'm not going anywhere. Adrien doesn't notice me and I can't talk to him and... I'm tired."

Luka nodded silently to let her know that he was both listening and sympathetic towards her plight, also not wanting to interrupt her.

"Of course I tried hard, but Adrien and Kagami seem like they're good for each other and they should be happy together. Just, whenever I think of giving up or not trying, I..." She raised a hand to her neck in a gesture that he immediately understood. "It hurts, and Alya's always trying to get me together with Adrien no matter what I say. Maybe she knows best and maybe she's right, and that's why I always end up in crazy situations with him. Plus, everyone..." She looked away, her voice not having the enthusiasm one would imagine her next words would go with. "...everyone keeps saying we're made for each other."

Luka clutched his leg to ground himself while struggling to keep a straight face. He'd certainly never heard that one before, but it stung like his neck did just thinking about it. His lips pressed together, trying to contain his emotions, but he couldn't help blurting out, "No one's made for anyone."

She blinked at him, shocked, but he didn't take it back or apologize for saying it so suddenly. He recognized the fact that he was talking about destined love being nonexistent when he himself knew that "fate" was very much a real thing, but his actual opinion on the subject hadn't changed. As far as he was concerned, fate's "opinion" was about as valid as anyone else's when it came to someone else's relationship.

"No matter what Alya, or even Rose, say about you and who you love, Marinette, all that matters is you and who you want to play for. You deserve someone who makes you happy." He paused, lamenting the reality that she really hadn't gotten to think about it. "Does Adrien make you happy?"

He saw the string tighten, Marinette opening her mouth to respond before she seemed to stop herself. He felt like apologizing, but knew she wouldn't understand even if he did. She frowned, staring down at her lap and appearing conflicted with herself, so he reached out and carefully hovered his hand over her shoulder in a show of comfort. She glanced at his hand, noticing the gesture, but didn't immediately give him any sort of permission.

Then, to his surprise, she brought her hand up, gently grabbing his wrist and lowering it so his hand was placed perfectly on her shoulder. She didn't even let go, keeping his wrist held like she needed his hand there.

"...Luka," she whispered, her voice shaking, "I—no, you'll laugh, or think I'm crazy."

He squeezed her shoulder, not hesitating to insist, "I won't. I'm here for you, Marinette."

She finally met his gaze, and he saw a vulnerability there that wasn't there before. She was nervous, whether of his potential reaction to whatever she had to say, or something else entirely.

She took a breath, her fingers tightening around his wrist as she composed herself. The silence stretched, though he could tell that she was steeling herself up.

"The—the Adrien pictures," she began, tossing a pointed look to the wall where they were. "I don't remember putting them there."

He kept his expression schooled, not wanting her to overthink his reactions. Careful and quiet, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"I-I mean, obviously I started putting them there, back when I first met him," she admitted, "but I took them down. They'd been down for a while."

Luka could confirm that. He'd been to Marinette's room before when she'd been sending in their Kitty Section audition to Bob Roth, and the pictures weren’t there.

She continued, "I-it hurt when I did it, but I did, and I threw most of them away. But then—when I wake up sometimes, they're back, and I don't remember putting them up. I-I mean, maybe I did but I just don't remember it? I stay up late sometimes and I won't remember falling asleep, so it might be like that, you know? I-I know you're not exactly like me and I'm sure you don't sleepily put pictures on your wall but..."

He smiled as best as he could, even though he was hurting inside. "I know as well as you do that creativity doesn't have a schedule."

She managed a smile in return, but it returned to a frown as she dropped her gaze to her lap. "A-anyway, I can forget things, but it's never been that bad, and sometimes they'll be gone for a while but then they'll be back a few days later. There's just—there's no other explanation, so it has to be me, right? I-I don't know if it's a sign or what, but if it is then I don't know what it's telling me? Because whenever there are a lot of pictures—" She made a vague gesture with a wave of her free hand, cringing as she added, "—something humiliating always happens. That usually gets me to take them down again, but then... well, you know." She rubbed the back of her neck with a hand, blushing in embarrassment. "Sorry, I probably sound crazy. I-I swear, I'm not trying to—"

"I believe you."

Her mouth halted mid-sentence, hanging open as she stared at him.

"I believe you, Marinette," he repeated, giving her shoulder another squeeze. He didn't need any further detail to know what happened, as there was no way Marinette would take down those pictures and then put them back up the next day, or even the day before that. It didn't make any sense, and while he hadn't seen the wisps of fate move things or brush them aside, he had seen them trip Marinette, meaning they had some level of physical control. It explained it all: the convenience of the pictures appearing and disappearing, as well as the amount of them there'd be.

"T-thank you," she murmured, her lips briefly moving to form extra words but nothing coming out. She looked shy, possibly from admitting something she hadn't told anyone before, but she at least wasn't so nervous anymore.

"You don't need to thank me," he assured, "but you're welcome. Just know that you can tell me anything."

She ducked her head, peeking up at him to ask, "How much do you want to know?"

"Whatever you're comfortable sharing with me," he replied.

"Everything?" She'd said it quickly, as if she'd blurted it out, but she didn't panic afterward. She merely looked at him, hope in her eyes.

He nodded without hesitation, wanting her to be certain that he meant it. She searched his gaze for a few more seconds, one last shred of doubt remaining, but he knew he'd convinced her when her body relaxed and she smiled at him with her whole heart. Her grip on his wrist lightened, her hand sliding off and back down to her side. He pulled back as well, his heart a mixture of emotions but mostly just happy to see her happy.

"I..." She turned away, facing her trapdoor. "I'm going to get some snacks first."

He watched as she pushed herself up, then stood as well to follow after her. "Do you want any help carrying them?"

She looked at him, confused. "You don't have to."

Instead of responding with the obvious - that he wanted to - he simply replied, "You're not alone anymore, Marinette."

He didn't need to elaborate for her to understand. He let himself get lost in the warmth of her gaze, hoping that he might see it more one day if he could ever get her string removed, even if her warm gaze would end up being for someone else.

[yandere--stuck]

The god of sleep has no dreams of his own. When Hypnos sleeps, it grants him the opportunity of visiting those of others, drifting along as on a gentle river. It’s comforting. Shards and glimpses of lives that aren’t his own, of people and places that won’t ever mean the same to him, the visions indirectly threaded by his fingers. There are far too many dreams for him to make, which is why most aren’t. He brings them to sleep, and their bodies do most of the work.

Regardless, it is his domain. Every mortal needs to sleep, whether they like it or not, which makes him an inevitable part of their life. A third of every human’s day rests in his hands. As payment, all he wants to do is observe, to be in their company. (Hypnos likes humans. They don’t notice him in sleep, or worship him in their days, but he doesn’t mind. It’s easier to handle being ignored when it’s not their choice, when it’s impossible for them to notice him, rather than his mom’s cold eyes passing through him like he’s a sliver of mist.

At least when he’s among the dreams of the living, he’s less alone. There’s no judgement, but no praise either.) With how many mortals and dreams there are to go around, it’s rare for him to visit more than once. Though it’s much rarer for anyone to take note of him. Most people aren’t aware they’re dreaming while doing so, being swept along by their dreams instead of having control, but you’re not one of those. You’re blessed with lucidity, morphing bits and pieces of the experience as you go. Most importantly...

You see him. You laugh. “Well, I didn’t think I was lonely enough to make up some guy to keep me company… Guess you learn something new every day!”

In one motion, you pinch his chin between your fingers and pull his face towards yours. He lets out a surprised noise, at the fact you can touch him in the first place, and the movement itself. And it’s a high and squeaky sound, one that makes him want to curl up in his blanket and slip from this dream to the next. You make no comment on it, only smiling wider.

“Ooooh, your eyes are golden! So pretty… Glad my subconsciousness has good taste, at least.” You add the last part to yourself, laughing again.

You don’t think he’s real, just some made up character of your dream. It’s no surprise you aren’t aware that you can’t dream about someone you’ve never seen before. For now, he’s glad to have you believe that. It’d be more humiliating if you knew a god was making such a fool out of himself, heat rising to his face. His tongue is limp in his mouth. When was the last time someone called him pretty? Had anyone ever called him that, and touched him so carelessly? You save him from the burden of speaking up first.

“What’s your name? Do you have one?”

He hesitates. If you knew who he was, you wouldn’t treat him the same anymore. “I don’t! But, um-!“

Hypnos knows and accepts what others think of him, knows that he’s no good at his job or much else, but if there’s one thing he would excel in, it would be here. He straightens his back a bit from its usual slouch, the tips of his feet grazing the ground as he floats. “I’m here to make sure you’re going to have a grand old time, you know? I know aaaall about having fun in dreams! Why, you could call me an expert! At your service.”

He does this stupid little bow, and immediately regrets it. You laugh, but not at him, and people don’t usually find him this entertaining, he thinks, and if you keep this up, it will become one of his favourite sounds.

“Alright, mister dream expert,” You say with a grin. “What did you have in mind?”

He helps you float like he does, and assists you at conjuring up whatever idea pops into your brain. Hypnos expected you , but that’s not all you do. You try to ask him questions about himself, even if you supposedly don’t think he’s real, and you actually listen. And when you tell him about yourself in return, he does the same. It’s fun, he’s having a good time, and he’s disappointed when he’s jolted awake because of someone walking too close past him. He’ll have to apologise for suddenly disappearing next time. (Next time? Does he want there to be a next time?)

Hypnos makes a habit out of visiting you. You’re not always aware you’re asleep, sometimes your dreams are the same as any other human’s. He savours those days too, at the insights into your life it offers him. However, it’s most enjoyable when you look at him with bright eyes and talk to him, and laugh at things he says and joke around at this side. There’s a warm tightness in his chest around you, he’s happy, he is, but also impossibly nervous to mess up and have your smile turn into a sneer. It’s surprising you even still want to be around him, if past experience is anything to go by, he isn’t any good at not annoying people. But you’re different. You haven’t insulted him at any point, either! You must really be some blessing.

Hypnos thinks he likes you. A lot. He’s never thought of it before, whether this is allowed or not. Never considered the possibility of forming a close bond through dreams. Hypnos decides that it is, and who would he even ask, isn’t he the deity of sleep? He’ll make his own rules, number one being that it’s totally a-okay to have dream friends! That you visit and think about all the time and spend all your time thinking up new fun ideas for! And sometimes you scratch their name into the margins of your lists while zoning out! He’s getting off track. (And, well, this all seems more like a problem exclusive to him…) What he wants most is to have you down here with him, to touch you and feel something, to have you around while you’re awake and asleep.

But to do that... It would be an offense to all sacred rules to meddle directly with the path the Fates had set out for you. Perhaps they’ll have some mercy on him for being family. Either way, he’s going to falsify your cause of death in the records. He's tired of being a bystander in your life. Hypnos doubts whether you can even remember him when you wake up. He isn’t exhausted in his normal way however, it’s no tugging at his eyelids or yawns hidden behind an open palm. This hurts. It’s an ache, an empty hole beyond his ribs. Your warmth needs to fill it, he’s sure. He wouldn’t be able to stand and watch as your life blossomed, how you would inevitably love someone else, be happy and forget about him all together. (It’s unfair. He's never had anyone that wanted be anything of his. Not a friend, not family, not a lover. And now you’re here, the first to not see him as a disgrace, and now he should let himself be stopped by some old rules?) Because compared to what someone right there with you could give, what did he have to offer? If he believed everyone else, he had nothing of worth to give anyone. All he had was this love, what he thinks is love. But you laugh with him, you seem happy, and what he knows of human life is suffering. So many terrible deaths, so many unresolved emotions, so many wishes that never came to be.

Hypnos could save you from it all. You would never have to worry about anything again. But he knows how much humans fear death: It’s reflected so often in their worst nightmares, after all. The last thing he wants to do is scare you.. How surprised you’ll be at suddenly finding out he’s real, not just a figment of imagination!

He’s giddy. The two of you could have be together forever! (And if you didn’t love him back, why would you smile at him like that? Why did you always say you were happy to see him return? He has neither experience in friendships or relationships, but he shares those sentiments, so you must love him too. Otherwise… He doesn’t want to think about it .)

So he visits you. Hypnos floats above your bed, watching down upon you. He caresses your face as you rest, watching you through lidded eyes. You called him it first, but you’re pretty too. He doesn’t care about your hair being a mess, or the dried drool on your chin, or how you lay in a weird position, legs and blanket all tangled up. Your soft breaths are adorable, and he wants to coo at you, to make your face turn warm instead of his.

The thought of his brother seeing you and taking your soul makes him uncomfortable, he wants this vision of you to be only his.

Your eyes crack open with a little groan and before you have the chance to struggle or cry out, he presses a kiss against your forehead, forcing some of his raw power into your frail, mortal body.

It shouldn’t hurt. He asked. Your form was never meant to take godly powers, it’s too overwhelming, destroying you from within, and you go limp within a second. It’s like you fell asleep. A sleep so deep you will never awaken again. (i know hypnos doesn’t govern dreams his sons do but i had an Idea,, hope u enjoyed!!)

---

(THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE OH MY GOSH!!!!! You're so talented, this is written so beautifully, it's amazing!!!!

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!! SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO POST!!! I've had a busy past few days ^^; I also hope it's okay that I had to edit it, or it'd be a big block of text, hehe. Thank you so much again!!!! 💚💚💚)

[kobakova]

Dragon Age and how it addresses oppression

ok so disclaimer this is not the rewrite of the Elven pantheon (the thing I keep promising I know I’m terrible) however it is an introduction to it and basically the reason why I feel the need to rewrite it in the first place! It’s a bit wordy, but I hope you take the time to read through it, as it took a lot of time and effort and I would super appreciate it! Today I stumbled upon a tik tok that was discussing how DA handles oppression and it motivated me to create a post about how I believe the way DA handles it is problematic at its core. I am not going to link the tik tok, as the creator has asked not to be put on blast, though I am including a word for word transcription of what the creator has said to avoid altering or skewing their message. I want to add that this is not an attack on the creator and what they said, more importantly it is an analysis of how other players perceive the oppression addressed within the game and how that proves that there is a serious problem with how DA handles it.

It is evident to me the message Dragon Age is trying to express is that oppression HAS to happen and that there is a reason to oppress. There are many examples within the game that prove this statement, though I want to focus mainly on how oppression impacts the mages and the Dalish, and how you as the main character can choose to perpetuate that oppression. To begin, here is the transcription of the tik tok below, which addresses oppression through the treatment of the mages.

“When it comes to mages, dragon age gives us a very clear picture that yes, these are people, they have hopes they have dreams they want to do better for themselves, they want to help others, we see this very clearly especially in DA2 where the whole plot revolves around mages rebelling. However, we also see very clearly in DA2 what can happen when a mage is left unchecked. Abominations, blood magic, the ability to force ones will onto somebody is a real threat with mages. Whether they succumbed to blood magic, whether they succumbed to the temptations of demons. These are unique challenges that face mages. And whether or not they should have freedom is true. And the game even gives us an amazing depiction of what could happen through Tevinter mages. What happens if mages are truly released, they have freedom. They might turn out like the Tevinters. Mages can become the ones solely on top oppressing other groups. A situation of the minority suppressing the majority. Whereas all the other lands of Thedas it’s the majority oppressing the minority. We have to grapple with these choices, whether not you kill a blood mage or you let them live. Or whether not you side with the mage rebellion or you side with the templars in DA2. It doesn’t pretend like it’s easy, and it doesn’t pretend to be something that it’s not. It doesn’t pretend to be real life. It gives unique challenges and unique decisions.”

My problem with DA is that you make choices through the role of an oppressor, which is very clear within Dragon Age: Inquisition as your rise to power then gives you the choice to oppress. The transcription above proves that a player has to make their decisions through the lens of an oppressor because you can determine the freedom or oppression of other people, in this case, the mages. Oppression cannot be a tool used for good because it is inherently bad, it only belittles others and is used to gain power. This could be a valuable lesson on how once power is gained so then is the ability to oppress, and how with the responsibility of power you should make choices based on what is best for the people who are oppressed. However, Bioware fails to follow through with this message for the sake of keeping their game morally grey. Instead, Bioware creates reasons and excuses for certain groups to be oppressed, thus making it okay for the player to make a decision that oppresses because either within their history something bad happened or there are certain people within the group that have done bad things. For example, all blood mages are considered evil due to some mages using blood magic in order to oppress and harm. However, we see in the game that not all blood mages are evil, and use blood magic to help. Despite this, all who use blood magic are deemed evil and if used, even if it means they are trying to escape an oppressive system, they will become Tranquil. When addressing Tevinter mages it’s evident that they have gained power, however they have chosen to oppress with this power. Being born with the ability to use magic is having the ability to gain power over another, but it is up to the individual to use that power to oppress or to use it to assist others. The ability to use magic itself is not an oppressive tool, because it has the ability to do good, it is the decisions of the individual that make it oppressive if the person decides to be an oppressor. If Bioware wasn’t so adamant about keeping the game morally grey, then they would’ve had an opportunity to create really interesting and important lessons on power and oppression that would better reflect our political landscape.

Now I want to move onto the Dalish, because I have a serious issue with how Bioware addresses the oppression they face and I believe it is important to mention. As stated above, Bioware chooses to ignore the dismantling of oppression, and instead creates reasons in order  to excuse the oppression of a group simply due to the fact that no group is perfect and they all have their issues. This is evident within the Trespasser DLC when discovering the true nature of the elven gods, which I will paste below:

!! Warning: spoilers ahead !!

“Following the initial events of the Exalted Council, the Inquisitor uncovers the reality that the Elven Gods were in fact phenomenally powerful mages who rose in prominence after the end of an unknown war. Solas implies that the Evanuris started out as generals during the war, then respected elders, and finally were revered as gods. They started out as heroes of the famed war eventually becoming corrupt tyrants in order to hoard and maintain their own power. The Evanuris institutionalized a system of slavery using Vallaslin as a brand, with only Fen'Harel (and more subtly, Mythal) challenging their tyranny. Most of the gods were arrogant in their ways, their power and attitudes more akin to the Tevinter Magisters. Eventually, the other Evanuris plotted against Mythal and killed her, prompting Fen'Harel to lead a rebellion against them and later creating the Veil to banish them into the Beyond,”

(https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/Elven_pantheon).

From what I’ve seen, little is known about the Elven Pantheon before Dragon Age: Inquisition and the discovery that the elven gods are actually powerful mages is only represented within the Trespasser DLC. Though I have learned later that this was always the plan for the Elven Pantheon, which was to expose the gods for being tyrants who enslaved their own kind. It is clear that Bioware took inspiration from Native tribes to then create the Dalish elves (even within the name, since there is the Salish Kootenai tribe and Bioware literally just switched the first letter) and this is why I have a major issue with how they chose to handle the oppression that the Dalish are impacted by. Throughout the Dragon Age games, we see the torment that the Dalish suffer through from name calling to the complete erasure of the elven race; Bioware even goes as far as to take significant historical events like the Trail of Tears and write them into the elven history. This is why the Trespasser DLC angers me, because after all you learn about the Dalish and what is done to oppress them, it almost seems brushed off after it is exposed that the elven gods were similar to Tevinter mages. This type of message has real world implications, and can impact how people perceive Native people. Within my own experience as a Native person, I’ve had people argue to me that the oppression Native people face has reason because we have also owned slaves which is COMPLETELY untrue. I was shocked to see this exact reason be integrated into the Trespasser DLC, and it worries me because some players will see that and find it perfectly rational to think that because of the Dalish’s history it is then okay that they were oppressed. Throughout history, America and other countries that have oppressed Native and Indigeous people have created excuses and reasons to oppress them (from excuses like we are s*vages that need to be educated, to reasons like the Manifest Destiny). Therefore, it is incredibly harmful that Bioware would use the same type of reasoning not only for the Dalish but for the mages and the Qunari as well. Finding a reason to oppress a group does not create progressive change, it only divides us and keeps the oppressed groups oppressed and keeps the oppressors in power. Bioware needs to change how they approach oppression, and instead actually teach players the tools needed in order to dismantle oppression. 

I hope to be able to change how the Dalish are perceived, and show through my rewrite of the elven pantheon and also rewrites of missions involving the Dalish how to dismantle oppression through the choices and involvement of the inquisitor. I thank you all for taking the time to read and if there are any questions please don’t be afraid to ask!

[makeste]

some meta about Izuku, Katsuki, and trust

and choosing to trust is the real bridge that goes to accepting that person as a part of your live again and what the offender has to earn. I think the interesting aspect of Deku and Bakugou's relationship is that Deku has always trusted Bakugou, and I would say more than he had forgiven him at the start of the story (where he does show more frustration and resentment towards Bakugou's behaviour and see him as a jerk) but despite that he can always trust Bakugou to him himself, attested to

the fact that Deku feels very confident about how Bakugou will act or what Bakugou's true motives are and probably the reason why he always sees Bakugou as a hero despite his hurtful behaviour is because Deku 100% trusts Bakugou even if he's doing something disagreeable or that will hurt him. Knowing someone and trusting is not exactly the same and I see it as trust because of Deku willingness to be co-operative. On Bakugou's side he is mistrustful of Deku and thats where the communication

breaks down and there has been plenty of meta exploring why Bakugou has deep rooted problems around Deku and his journey is him taking accountability of that and changing to be a better person. While understanding and miscommunication get their fair due I think trust and mistrust are the true bedrocks of the bkdk river bed because that allows for how they can still be so connected despite the miscommunication (with Bakugou mistrust is mixed with some trust) because of knowing.

anon I really enjoyed this, thank you for sharing your thoughts! I concur with just about all of this, and this ask got me thinking a lot about the nature of trust, and how it applies to Izuku and Katsuki’s relationship.

I think a lot of people’s reactions to reading the sentence “Bakugou and Deku have always trusted each other” would pretty much be, “???” and “lol what.” like, yeah, sure. they trusted each other so much that Bakugou decided that throwing a tantrum for ten years would be an appropriate reaction to Deku trying to hold his hand. classic Trust, right there!!

lol but I honestly think this is true, though. it’s just that there are different... levels?? types?? of trust. let’s go with types. there are different types of trust, and what makes Izuku and Katsuki’s relationship so interesting to me is that it’s kind of the opposite of what these fictional rival-type relationships usually are. it’s basically the difference between knowing, and understanding.

okay so first of all let’s back up here to make sure we’re all on the same page. we’re defining trust as “firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone”, which is the Oxford Language definition and which works pretty well for me. you’ll note, btw, that the current relationship between Katsuki and Izuku more or less meets all four of these criteria.

reliability - both boys regard each other as dependable and are willing to rely on each other in a pinch (although Izuku is currently having some difficulty with that, but that’s another topic for another day).

truth - both are honest with each other, though not completely honest (this is the aspect that Katsuki still needs to work on, as he’s currently hiding his desire to atone).

ability - neither of them have any difficulty with this. Izuku admires Katsuki’s ability so much that he’s made it his own gold standard since childhood, and Katsuki respects Izuku’s ability enough that he made him his main rival, and never doubted that Izuku was qualified to receive OFA and become All Might’s heir.

strength - as with ability, this is another aspect of trust that neither of them has ever struggled with. in fact, a lot of their relationship struggles happened specifically because Katsuki never doubted Izuku’s strength, but feared it because he didn’t understand it.

so yeah. there’s a lot more trust between them than most people realize, I think. but the thing is that the type of trust they have is based more on knowing than understanding, and that’s where so much of their conflict stems from.

when I say knowing, I’m talking about the kind of awareness that comes from familiarity and experience. this is the type of trust that’s difficult to take shortcuts with, because it mostly just has to be accumulated over time. this is all about learning what someone is like through observing them and being around them. and it’s just as much about being known as well, because at the same time that you’re learning who the other person is, they’re learning about who you are. and that’s where trust starts to work its way in. it’s the slow unveiling of who you are, and laying it on the table piece by piece over time. and every time another little piece of you is revealed and accepted, and every time you accept one more piece of who the other person is in turn, that trust increases a little bit more. this type of trust takes a long, long time to build up, but in exchange the foundation it creates is pretty much rock-solid and nigh-indestructible.

understanding, on the other hand, to me is more instinctual. it’s about empathy and insight. and the interesting thing is that it’s possible to know someone for years upon years, and yet never truly understand them. and on the flip side, it’s also possible to understand someone within minutes of meeting them, even if you know almost nothing about them. if “knowing” is about learning who someone is, I would say that “understanding” is about learning why they are who they are. this type of trust isn’t necessarily always mutual, but it does necessitate forming a connection with someone. because empathy is such a critical component of it, it’s basically impossible to understand someone and not form an emotional connection to them in some way. this type of trust can be far more powerful and intense than the “knowing” type of trust, but the flip side is that it can sometimes be less stable and easier to break.

I think that the majority of fictional relationships, especially the ones that become really popular ships, are based more around the latter type of trust because of its intensity and unpredictability and potential for story development. the thing is, both of these types of trust are necessary for a good ship (and when I say “ship”, I’m talking about both romantic and platonic relationships just fyi). if neither type of trust is present on at least some level, then there’s really no foundation to start building up the relationship. so most of the time a ship will start out with one or the other, and then over the course of the story they'll work on building up whichever one was lacking.

and because of how stories work, the majority of the time we’re going to be dealing with characters who at first don’t know each other all that well. and so the relationships we get are ones where the characters first form some kind of emotional connection that builds understanding, and then over time they start to learn more about each other and build up that kind of trust as well. I feel like 90% of ships have this kind of dynamic. it’s the basis for things like enemies-to-lovers, fake dating AUs, and basically any kind of trope in which the characters get stuck somewhere and are forced to spend a lot of time together. it’s good, and it works.

but the fascinating thing about the relationship between Izuku and Katsuki, though, is that it’s actually the exact opposite of this. the premise of Izuku and Katsuki's story is that these are two people who’ve known each other their entire lives, but have almost no understanding of each other whatsoever. they know almost every little detail about each other, so much that they hardly even think about it. but all of their conflict is based on the fact that understanding between them is basically nonexistent.

and to me this is such an intriguing dynamic. the two of them know each other like the back of their hand. they’re familiar with the smallest habits. they can predict each other’s actions. they know how the other person thinks. and they have the kind of trust that comes with having seen the other at both their best and their worst. Katsuki is capable of letting his guard down around Izuku in a way he doesn’t do around anyone else. he cries in front of him on multiple occasions. he lets Izuku call him “Kacchan” long after their other childhood friends have stopped doing so. and even though he fears and resents Izuku’s strength early on, he also subconsciously acknowledges it in ways that even he doesn’t realize (e.g. “don’t you dare get into U.A.,” rather than “you can’t get in” or “you won’t get in”). he knows Izuku.

but he doesn’t understand Izuku. he knows who he is, but he doesn’t understand why. he knows that Izuku is strong, but he can't wrap his head around the nature of that strength. and because he lacks that understanding, this vital aspect of the trust between them is lacking, and is all too easily broken when Katsuki falls into the creek and Izuku tries to offer his help. Katsuki knows that Izuku is a good person, but he doesn’t understand that goodness, that selflessness, and so he’s mistrustful of it.

on the flip side of the coin, however, Izuku has the utmost faith in Katsuki. to him, Katsuki is the strongest, smartest, most capable and most amazing person in the world (aside from All Might). and Izuku, unlike Katsuki, actually does understand his childhood friend at least a little bit. he understands Katsuki’s reasons for wanting to be a hero. he understands that Katsuki is not just mindlessly pursuing strength. he understands that Katsuki’s motivation is about overcoming obstacles and beating challenges. and most importantly, he understands that Katsuki, in spite of everything he’s said and done to Izuku over the years, is fundamentally a good person.

and this is crucial. because, along with the bond of familiarity they’ve built up together over the years, it’s this other, one-sided bond of understanding that is responsible for their relationship enduring for as long as it did despite everything. as you put it, anon, Izuku’s trust is ultimately what becomes the bridge between them. on some level, he trusts in Katsuki’s innate goodness. he believes in it in spite of all of Katsuki’s attempts to persuade him otherwise. e.g. when Katsuki suggests that he go jump off the roof, Izuku is hurt by the words, but he never once takes them to heart, because he knows on some instinctive level that Katsuki doesn’t mean them. and so he grumbles to himself about Katsuki needing to think before he speaks, but aside from that he never gives the words another thought.

Katsuki would no doubt consider this yet another example of Izuku not caring enough about himself or taking himself into account. but it really is more than that. the reason the words don’t cut deep in spite of them being vicious and well-targeted is simply because Izuku knows that Katsuki isn't truly that cruel. and he knows that on a level so deep that Katsuki is never able to break it despite his best efforts. he can’t break it, because there’s nothing to break, because it’s true. the reason the relationship endures in spite of everything is because deep down Katsuki is fundamentally a good person, and so Izuku’s trust, in the end, is based on truth. and so it never fully breaks, and eventually, it becomes reciprocated.

and that’s what their story is all about. it’s two people that have known each other their entire lives, but have to work in order to build their understanding of each other. unlike many ships, they start off already having that foundation of knowing and being known, and so their story instead is about forging that connection of empathy and insight. and it doesn’t come easily to them at all. but they keep at it.

anyway, so thank you again for sharing your thoughts on this, anon. I didn’t even get into the topic of forgiveness, but I agree with you about it being a process of letting go of negative feelings and resentment. I also agree that forgiveness is a separate thing from trust, but I do think trust plays a big part in one’s decision to forgive or not forgive. it's a lot easier to forgive if you have an understanding of the other person’s actions. and it’s also far, far easier to forgive if the offender’s actions are long in the past. and because the latter is now true in Katsuki’s case, that shows a pattern of him learning from his mistakes and not repeating them. which further builds trust, especially in the “reliability” department. and so even though forgiveness and trust are two separate things, they’re still connected. and in many ways, by working to rebuild the understanding between him and Izuku, Katsuki is also working towards earning Izuku’s forgiveness, even though that’s ultimately something that can never truly be earned, but can only be granted.

I’m not sure if I’m really making my point very clear here lol, but basically what I’m trying to say is that while the relationship may have once been one-sided in this aspect, it’s not anymore. it’s mutual, and they’re both putting the work in. and Katsuki is also doing his part without any guarantee or expectation of forgiveness on Izuku’s end. it’s unconditional. he’s doing it because he wants to atone. and he’ll continue to do it whether he’s forgiven or not. and that’s important. it’s important because it shows that the relationship has value to both of them. and it’s important because neither of them wants to lose it. they want to fix it; they want to make it stronger.

and ultimately what that means is that the relationship will continue to endure, despite their ups and downs. because even though it may have started out as something incidental -- two boys who just happened to become friends because they spent a lot of time together as children -- it’s not, anymore. it’s no longer just something that happened, something that just accidentally came together. it’s something that they’re both working to build. they want to trust each other. they want to understand one another. their relationship is no longer something that simply withstood and persisted -- it’s something that is now being nurtured. and you love to see it.

so let's see, how do I even begin to tl;dr this post lol. something something blah blah blah trust, understanding, childhood friends, knowing someone, having faith in someone, being the recipient of that faith, and working to become worthy of it. they're very confused, but they care about each other a lot, and they are good boys.

[straycinameticuniverse]

RED LIGHTS IS OUT FOR ALL YOU FREAKS

Freaks is the designated group of individuals who lack the patience to peacefully wait for the red lights to go green and so they just keep raging in anger inside their cars or on their motorcycles.

When I said that red lights was about traffic lights and the continuing story of motorcycles, I wasn’t joking and I am so happy that HyunChan came and dropped the video to affirm the fact they are indeed set on educating their fans at whatever cost. The chains and the ropes are the main plot for this music video as they serve as an analogy for how your morals should hold you back from doing the wrong thing but you know what else? This video has brought light to something I had forgotten to mention the last time, the real reason there is two of them going through the struggle with the red lights also serves as a reminder that our friends will never abandon us and will always hold us back from being the worst versions of ourselves.

I will do the very much needed analysis step by step because like the boys, I too care about the education of my fellow stans.

Seeing as how the video begins with Bang Chan pulling at chains I can only assume to be attached to Hyunjin’s body, he is using up all his energy to pull his friend, who is about to go past the red light, so that they do not get fined and completely destroy whatever morals they still have left and the scene goes hyunjin lying in bed facing upward with chains casing his body, clearly he struggles to hold himself back from doing things he shouldn’t do sometimes but luckily his friend Bang Chan is always there to make sure that he is under control, even if it means chaining him down to the bed, you may be wondering why a bed specifically, well its simply, beds are comfortable and even though this battle is only happening in their minds, Chan would never really want to harm his dear friend and that is why he insists on laying him on the bed to fight his demons. Although we see chan tied down on a table it is not because hyunjin doesn’t care about him but because hyunjin was tired and he doesn’t work out as much as muscle man chan and he didn’t want to hurt both himself and his friend so he puts him in a secure table which was the first place he spotted. If you are wondering how they both manage to tie each other because that wouldn’t be possible, well let me tell you an insider’s secret, the events in the music video are not happening at the same time and so they have only put them together because they are similar and so it only just shows how they would do the same for each other when the time comes, they wouldn’t let the other just go on and go past a red light.

When you see chan standing over hyunjin on the bed he is simply letting the boy know that “bro, I am warning you, speeding past that light is not worth it and that is why I have tied you to this bed, I hope you understand” the video then shows how at a different instance Bang Chan has tied Hyunjin up to the neck, and that still represents the struggle, it may not always be easy to do the right thing and it might hurt to be held back but the end results will be worth it, even if hyunjin keeps trying to escape, he doesn’t try too hard because I am sure even he knows that he needs to be held down because there is traffic coming his way up ahead.

When hyunjin is standing Chan you best believe he is telling his hyung to chill, being a few minutes late to where they are going really isn’t that much of a big deal, but chan really doesn’t care to listen, you see him standing on the table talking about, “going crazy now”, and all I can say is same bro, same. Also what a body ody ody ody ody ody that man has!

The sparks you see falling from the ceiling are representing the friction that occurs when the motorcycle stops at the traffic light after having been speeding through the night, it comes to a sudden halt.

When the dance break comes it is only to remind you the important things in life, before speeding past that red light please remember that you could instead have a dance break with your bestie in that time as you wait to pass time till the lights go back to green, if you do not have such glamorous dance breaks with your friends at traffic lights are you really living life and do you even have a bestie? I hope that upon seeing this you will be enlightened to do this yourself, keeping in mind that you should only do this in your heads, getting out of the car during the red light waiting period is not advisable and my babies never advised such, but they do encourage the use of imagination to pass time.

They proceed to show themselves in a chokehold from the other in which this serves to remind you that if the use of your imagination doesn’t work, you are allowed to get a little physical and only a little and please remember it is only to stop the other from crossing the line, that traffic light will stay red for as long as it pleases and you have to fight the forces telling you to past it.

In the background of the audio you can hear the breathing, that’s the tired breath of a man who has been driving their motorcycle safely and smoothly.

You can see them running through the hallways but it doesn’t seem to be that easy, as they are still held down by the chains, this serves to remind you that knowing that going past that red light is wrong is not going to stop you from still wanting to do it and so let’s say thank you to the friends that know better. When the next dance break comes and you see chan lifting hyunjin up, it is to remind you just how your friends will lift you up even if they themselves are on the very ground, they will sacrifice what little of their strength they have to make sure that you are okay.

The rest of the video goes back and forth with the idea I have already stated, the table setup is when they both comes to terms with the fact that this is how things are going to be, they will fight each other for the greater good but in the end they really do just love each other and want the best for the other.

You think you a couple of seductive looks well no it’s all in your head, chan and hyunjin are only making faces because they know that’s the only way to capture your attention, that’s the only reason there are all those looks directed at the camera all my boys want is Ta Educate!!!!!

I hope you are happy and know more are traffic lights, motorcycles and most importantly friendship.

STAY WOKE

[cinnaminsvga]

body of mine | Seokjin (M)

→ summary: It’s the night before Seokjin’s birthday and you, his ever-reliable witch slash roommate, have accidentally forgotten to get him a gift. Good thing you know magic then, right? Ten wishes shouldn’t be too hard to handle…

{or alternatively: learning the importance of living a marie kondo lifestyle, but in hindsight}

→ genre: shifter!au, magic!au, humor/crack, smut → warnings: jin is your magical hamster familiar, jin is chaotic (ofc), magical mischief that only zee could come up with, aphrodisiac sex, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), slightly rough sex, dom!jin if you squint, hair pulling, jin doesn’t wrap up his peepee (pls practice safe sex u guys), dirty talk, breeding kink?? → words: 16.9K → a/n: IDK WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THE ORIGINAL POST BUT HERE IT IS!! IM SO SORRY BUT HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY @jincherie​ PLEASE IM GOING TO CRY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS (pls send me your thots i suffered greatly for this fic i’m actually dying appa yip yip)

Whoever told you that keeping a hamster as a familiar was a good idea must have been an idiot.

It’s you – you are the idiot. Every one of your friends had warned you about the little vermin. They had begged you to kick him out the moment you found him taking a hamster-sized dump on your prized foxgloves.

You’d been in the middle of pruning the yallows in your garden when you heard a tiny squeak! to your right. When you pushed the foliage away, you saw a small hamster, cheeks puffed up with its little fists clenched by its sides, as pellet after pellet of tiny shits were pushed out of its tiny ass and onto your plants.

You brought him into your home, already making up your mind that you’d keep him as a pet. You have been feeling a bit lonely these days; surely, a tiny little hamster won’t be too much of a problem to take care of, right? You’re so excited that you even invite your friends over to behold your newfound darling.

“I’m going to kill that tiny bastard,” Yoongi hissed the moment he made eye contact with the hamster, his pupils dilating and fluffy cat ears tensing, ready to attack. You could see his claws begin to extend, so you made sure to place your new friend out of his reach. Lucky for you, Yoongi had the arm span of a toddler.

“Oh, c’mon! He’s so fucking cute though,” you cooed, tickling the hamster’s belly. It squeaked happily, nudging your finger to scratch the underside of its ears. Yoongi hissed at it from behind Namjoon’s back, his fingernails digging painfully into the gentle giant’s shoulders. The bespectacled witch didn’t even seem to bat an eye.

“Y/N, I’m all for keeping magical pets and whatnot, but I have to agree with Yoongi… That hamster has too much bastardous energy,” Namjoon said, wincing when the hamster begins munching on the sleeves of your cloak in earnest. You continued to squeal in delight, positively endeared by the cute little ball of fur in your palms.

Due to your magical abilities, you had sensed that this little hamster had magic in his veins and you guessed that he must have either been a shifter or an intellectually augmented animal. You guessed that he’s the former, much like how Yoongi is a cat shifter as well. Ever since Namjoon had befriended Yoongi and the two became partners, you admit that you’ve always been a little jealous of their natural camaraderie. You had long since yearned for someone who could assist you in your magical apothecary, but more importantly, someone you could share your time with.

You were optimistic; perhaps when the little hamster learned to shift into its human form, then you could truly begin your journey towards friendship. You’re sure that the man behind the hamster must be just as cute and lovely.

Speaking of learning to shift—

“What? You mean me?” Yoongi asked, craning his head over Namjoon’s shoulder, his curiosity getting the better of him but still remaining a safe distance away from you and the hamster. “What about learning to shift?”

“Did you just learn one day? I want to get Mr. Hamster over here to turn into a human so I can speak to him,” you explained, but the cat shifter narrows his eyes distrustfully.

“I don’t want that vermin to gain the ability to speak. I can just tell no one is going to enjoy what he has to say,” he sniffed. He growled lowly, the sound so deep and feral that you are momentarily disarmed by his hostility. Namjoon had to rub the back of his ears for a second, forcing Yoongi to calm down until his growl softened into a purr.

“Well, Yoongi can’t control his shifting abilities quite yet. I have to… forcibly change him, if you will,” Namjoon explained, watching Yoongi with loving eyes as he gently nuzzled his head into the witch’s hand. He beckoned you closer and you took a tentative step forward, keeping the hamster behind your back just to be safe. “Watch,” he said simply, as his hand trails lower and lower until it reached the back of Yoongi’s neck and he–

Poof! Namjoon simply tickled the back of Yoongi’s neck and a puff of purple smoke revealed a munchkin cat in its wake. His soft gray and white fur bristled in surprise, his teeth bared at Namjoon as he meowed in contempt. Namjoon ignored all of this, gently picking up the tiny cat and cradling him in his arms like a baby. Immediately, the shifter relaxed, eyes closing contentedly as he burrowed deeper into Namjoon’s chest.

“Woah,” you said, for lack of better words. You shook your head, gazing at the two in wonder. “I didn’t know Yoongi has a fucking eject button.”

“Yep. I sure hope you don’t abuse this knowledge, by the way,” Namjoon warned, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes told you that he probably wouldn’t mind if you did. Knowing you, there was no question that you’d take any and every opportunity to annoy the cat shifter. “If this hamster is the same, then surely it has a similar tick. Since it’s small too, I’m sure it’ll be easy to find its spot.”

“Speaking of,” you piped up, staring curiously at him. “How… did you find out where Yoongi’s spot was? Didn’t you meet him as a human?”

Namjoon shrugged, but there’s a soft pink tint coloring the tops of his ears. “Umm… Coincidence?”

You squinted at him. “Sure,” you agreed, not wanting to know why he seemed so embarrassed. You turned back to the furry matter at hand, lips pursing as you gazed upon the hamster. Surely, there should be an easy way to figure this out…

You began to roll the small hamster in your hand like a pancake, twisting and pulling the lil guy until it started squeaking in protest. You made sure not to handle it too roughly, so you were a bit surprised at how dramatically the hamster was screaming. “Just another moment, baby…” you murmured. At the sound of the pet name, the hamster paused in its squirming, staring wide-eyed at you with its tiny mouth ridiculously agape. You arched a brow, amused at the aghast expression on its face.

“Well, that settles it. You’re definitely human, by the looks of it,” you commented, poking it lightly on the nose. The hamster scrunched up its face just as a soft pink smoke started to envelop its tiny body. You coughed harshly, your sinuses tickled by the strong scent of caramel and mint. “W-well, I think I found its spot,” you pointed out helplessly, eyes watering as you tried to keep them open.

The hamster’s body was growing ridiculously hot, forcing you to drop it on your kitchen counter. You hissed, sucking on your burned appendages as you wait for the smoke to subside. Beside you, Namjoon had Yoongi held tightly in his arms, his back turned away to keep the smoke away from their faces. “Y/N, get some clothes quickly. He’s going to be cold when he finishes transforming,” was all he said, his free hand covering his nose. “This is probably going to be its first shift in a while!”

You’re still completely flabbergasted, frozen in place. “What?” you replied dumbly, standing stock still as you waited for the smoke to dissipate. As more and more of it cleared, you noticed two pairs of long legs where there originally had been none. You waved your hand a bit, fanning the remaining fumes away from your nose, allowing you to gaze upon a very naked and very tall man sitting primly on your kitchen counter.

You and the man stared each other down, neither of you blinking nor backing down. After a few moments, the man smiled brightly at you, his cheeks bunching up much like how he did in his hamster form. “Hello, human,” he greeted, extending a hand towards you. You took it dazedly, still staring wide-eyed at him. “My name is Seokjin. I suppose this means I’m going to be your familiar from now on.”

Your gaze traveled downwards, your hands still clasped together with his. “You’re naked,” you said plainly.

He followed your gaze. “I suppose I am,” he mused, shrugging his shoulders. He was incredibly wide; it almost made no sense that he was a hamster just a few seconds ago. What did he do, bench press sunflower seeds all day? “I am also incredibly beautiful, but we can continue stating the obvious another day.” He released your hands, clasping them together with a beatific smile. “C’mon, human! Bring me your finest garments because my handsomely sculpted testicles are starting to shrivel up from the cold.”

Behind you, you could hear Yoongi hissing loudly in response.

And from that day forward, your adventures of living with the biggest nuisance in the world had begun.

x x x x x

[December 3, 11:39 PM]

Okay, maybe calling him a nuisance is a bit too mean… He’s not that bad. Although, you are sure that Seokjin would have gladly nipped you in the tit if he ever found out you thought so lowly of him. Which you don’t.

Usually.

Except when he’s being annoying, which is all the time. For example:

“Stop fucking biting, you little furball,” you grouse, flicking the hamster in the stomach. He gasps in response, or at least, you assume he had gasped since hamsters don’t exactly have the same vocal cords that humans do. What you do know, however, is that Seokjin seems particularly adamant to be irritating tonight, despite your numerous threats to snip his tiny hamster balls should he continue to pester you.

Unfortunately, none of your usual intimidation tactics work, thus prompting you to grab the small rodent and squeeze him like a squeaky toy. (And what do you know—he even squeaks like one too!)

“Will you stop bothering me? You know I’m busy.” You squint angrily at him, scowling when Seokjin looks back at you with faux innocence. This lil bitch wouldn’t know innocence if it shoved a finger up his ass! “You’ve been more annoying than usual. You even tried parkouring over my herb bottles even though I’ve told you numerous times that’s off limits!”

You feel only slightly bad for scolding him; after all, you are in the midst of preparing a particularly difficult potion for one of your clients tomorrow. Seokjin knows this, and you even specifically told him not to bother you until you finished for the night. While he often did like to interrupt your work for “life or death situations” such as “cuddling” or “spoon-feeding him some pudding,” he usually leaves you alone to do your work when you’re faced with tougher jobs. Today doesn’t seem to be the case as he nibbles ferociously on your sleeves, desperate for you to listen to whatever nonsense he wants to convey.

Rolling your eyes (albeit you admit you do it out of fondness), you gently take the little hamster into your hands, placing him on your kitchen floor. You make sure the stove for your potion making is turned off before you turn back to him, honking his button nose and waiting for him to shift completely.

Since it’s no longer his first time shifting, it only takes Seokjin a few seconds to transform into his human self, his large frame quickly taking up most of the space of your cramped kitchenette. He accidentally bumps his head into one of your hanging potted plants, causing him to yelp in surprise rather than actual pain. He glares pointedly at your orchids before switching that ire onto you, his normally saccharine brown eyes filled with thinly veiled contempt.

“Took you long enough,” he sniffs, poking you not-too gently in the cheek. He folds his arms, appearing to you like a child throwing a tantrum. “Well?”

You raise a brow, covertly turning on your stove once more to resume your potion-making. “Well what?” you say, stirring your small cauldron from the corner of your eye. Seokjin halts your movements instantly, pulling your arm away and half-dragging you towards your living room.

“H-hey! That potion is really sensitive, so let me go—”

“It’s almost midnight,” is all he says before dumping you unceremoniously on your old sunken couch. You grunt from the impact, but he doesn’t apologize for his gruffness (as he never has). You peer up at him, scowling slightly at his unexpectedly cryptic remark.

“And so? This potion is due for pick-up in two days and I’ll need to steep it for another 24 hours before I can even think to package it–”

Instead of replying, Seokjin takes his phone out of his pocket and thrusts the screen towards you. You look at it in confusion, confronted with the sight of his lock screen without any explanation. “It’s… 11:43?”

He rolls his eyes, though you notice a slight hint of disappointment clouding his expression. “And what about the date?” he pushes, lips pursed thinly into a line.

He’s trying to get you to understand without saying it outright – a habit of his that he’s acquired ever since he started hanging out more with Yoongi. Though the two are hardly considered friends, even Seokjin has to admit that being near the cat has caused him to pick up a thing or two, with his tsundere tendencies being one of the first.

You, on the other hand, are forced to play along with his antics. You know that it is December 3. As you try to rack your head for anything you might have missed, you’re pretty sure you’ve accomplished all your chores for today, save for the current potion brewing for the customer coming in two days. You think back on your day, listing off all the things you had done.

You had met up with Namjoon to pick up more herbs from his shop, you delivered more mana potions to the local apothecary, you passed by the street market to buy more sunflower seeds for Seokjin… What on earth could you be forgetting?

“I sincerely hope you’re joking, you know.” Seokjin interrupts your train of thought, breaking you from your trance. When you look back at him, you find that his annoyance has cleared. Hurt replaces his expression, his bottom lip trembling slightly as he waits for you to realize.

When it appears that you won’t be noticing anytime soon, he heaves a heavy sigh, eyes closing in defeat. His voice cracks when he says, “Fine. It’s fine. Whatever. I’ll just… Go to my room. Don’t worry about breakfast tomorrow because I’m gonna sleep in.” And with that, he swivels away from you, shoulders hunched forward as he quietly makes his way to his quarters.

Left shocked and even more puzzled, your gaze is stuck where he had just been moments ago, anxiety and guilt rising in your chest as you try harder to remember what it is that caused Seokjin to shut you out like that. In your seven months of living together, not once has he ever looked so dejected, as the handsome shifter often liked to push your buttons and tease you whenever you mess up. This is clearly not like the other times, so whatever you forgot must pertain to Seokjin himself.

“Am I missing something? Did I forget to season his dinner again?” Although it is entirely too plausible that you did, you highly doubt Seokjin would be that upset at having a bland meal. So what else could it…?

Just as you’re about to give up and beg Seokjin to tell you what you had forgotten, your phone beeps, a new text from Namjoon arriving just in time. You flick it on, your brain taking a moment to fully grasp the words you were trying to read.

from: joonieboobie to: y/n

hey y/n! are you gonna spend the entire day with seokjin tomorrow? yoongi and i figured that you’d do something special for him on his bday, so tell seokjin that we’ll treat him to a birthday dinner the next day instead. don’t have too much fun, okay? use protection LMAO

Shit.

You gasp suddenly, hand flying to your mouth as horror washes over you. Did Namjoon just say… bday?! Now that he mentions it, you realize that today is December 3rd, which means…

“Tomorrow is December 4th,” you whisper to yourself. You jump out of the couch, scrambling towards your kitchen at a wicked pace. Sweat begins to form at the back of your neck as you run over to your wall calendar, where lo and behold, tomorrow’s date is circled in blood-red ink. Circled by you, even. Holy shit holy shit holy shit–

No wonder Seokjin was so hurt. You’re a terrible, foul, no-good witch! The absolute worst person in the world! How on earth could you forget your own familiar’s birthday?

“Jesus fuck, I’m screwed,” you groan, slumping over your kitchen counter in defeat. You don’t even care that your potion has long since boiled over—not when you’ve already made a bigger mistake just now. God, you’re such a clumsy bitch; what’s the point of being a potion maker who helps cure other people’s maladies if you can’t even fix your shortcomings?

“I can fix this. I can fix this. I can—” You chant this multiple times to yourself as you rush to your nearby bookshelf, pulling out every book you own to find a last-minute gift idea. Surely, there’s something in these books that can help you make it up to Seokjin, right? You’ve made almost every potion there is under the sun, surely there is something you can brew that can bring back the smile on your lovably goofy familiar?

You’ll pour over all of these books if you have to. Despite your forgetfulness, your love for your familiar rings true; you would do anything for him, whatever he might ask.

A thought passes through your mind, but you shut it down for now. A last resort, you think grimly to yourself. You have a few hours left before he wakes up, after all. You’ll find something, you’re sure.

x x x x x

[December 4, 9:14 AM]

It turns out you do not find anything, after all. A halo of books surrounds you on your living room floor, your worn fingers littered with papercuts and ink stains after spending the whole night looking for a suitable gift for Seokjin. Everything just seems too regular to be a gift, though you suppose you’re only picky because you know that Seokjin is pickier. He’d whine for days if you gave him just any gift, and nothing grinds your gears more than having a sulking hamster eating the plants in your garden.

“Grandeur,” you can imagine him saying, nose upturned in that snooty way of his. “I require the most exquisite of presents. I, after all, am above peasantry. I cannot even stand the taste of wooden chopsticks upon my silver tongue.”

Frankly, you have no idea how he’d gotten to become such a prick so haughty, given that you know that he used to live on the streets before he had met you. Regardless, you’ve always been the type of person to be a little too forgiving, so your patience for his irritating unorthodox personality is stronger than most.

Although it might not be immediately apparent to most observers, the two of you make for a perfect pair. You are the calm to his storm, the logic to his insanity, the yin to his dumbass yang. While it’s easy to say that you hold the short end of the stick when it comes to living with Seokjin, he also grounds you and keeps you from pushing yourself too hard. There have been many long nights in the past when you would be too absorbed in your work, not even remembering to eat or drink for days. All it takes is a soft poke or nibble from Seokjin to jolt you back to your senses as he reminds you time and time again that your life matters not only to you, but him as well.

He’s your familiar. Your sweet, foolish, annoying, narcissistic familiar. It really might have been fate for you to have met all those months ago in your garden, though you’d never tell him that. He’d be much too smug about it if you did, as he never did shy away from proclaiming that he was your knight in shining armor or something.

Which is all the more reason that you fear for your life now that you’ve run out of options for his birthday present. He’d never let you hear the end of it, and you can only imagine how a vengeful and spiteful Seokjin might be compared to his normal self.

You sigh dejectedly, closing your last book and shoving it across your living room floor. “This is my fault for forgetting,” you say, rubbing your temples with a grimace. Of all the times your forgetfulness could fail you, you certainly would have hoped that this would not be one of the times when it did. You must remember to ask Namjoon to restock the ingredients needed to make more head clarity potions, though you suppose you might end up forgetting to do that as well.

Every potion in your arsenal of knowledge just wouldn’t work out for Seokjin, or at least you think so. The potions are either too useless or too useful, with the latter being a bigger problem. As much as you like to tease Seokjin for his hamster-sized brain, he did have his cunning moments. You dread to wonder what type of mischief he might come up with should you give him, say, a 24-hour luck potion.

“Though I suppose he wouldn’t be able to take over the world in 24 hours… Could he?” Even as you say it, you know in your heart of hearts that he absolutely can and will. Fucking bastard that he is.

With no other options viable to you, you did have one last trick up your sleeve. You might even say this option is worse than a 24-hour luck potion, though you will be making sure that he has adult supervision while he, erm, utilizes this gift of yours. This last-minute gift idea of yours is famous amongst your circle of friends, mostly because you do have a penchant for forgetting numerous birthdays and anniversaries in the past.

You’re usually quick to resort to this last-minute gift whenever you forget someone’s birthday, as you trust that your friends would never misuse your kindness in any way. But like most things, Seokjin is a different case entirely. As you have mentioned before, Seokjin… has ways of getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Added with the fact that you were unquestionably whipped for his hamster ass, he most often can get you to do things that aren’t what most would consider being “morally sound.” You may love him, but you certainly don’t trust him.

Long story short, you are slightly terrified of giving him ten wishes for his birthday. Ten wishes that will allow him to ask you to do anything for him, as long as they’re within your abilities of course. If anyone were to find out that you were even considering offering wishes to Seokjin, much less ten wishes, you are sure that they would throttle you for the premeditated mass destruction of the human population.

Which is why you’re going to have to make some rules for the little rodent, and hope to all the deities up above that he doesn’t find a loophole of sorts. Hopefully.

It’s nearing 9:30 AM when you manage to muster up enough courage to tiptoe noiselessly into his room, not bothering to knock as you know that he will most likely ignore you. Your heart pangs when you see him curled up into a ball in his bed, still in his human form as you had not been able to transform him back into a hamster before he had stormed off the night before. He has his back turned away from the door, but you know he’s awake when you hear his muffled sniffles. Your previous trepidation is replaced with guilt immediately, causing you to lower your head in shame.

“Seokjin? Sweetie?” You say his name hesitantly, unsurprised when the shifter refuses to look at you. You pad softly towards his bed, your knee digging into the soft mattress but not daring to come closer. You want desperately to cuddle with him in bed, always having appreciated his higher body temperature, especially during the colder months.

“I’m so sorry for forgetting your birthday, Seokjinnie. I know I’m a big fool for forgetting such an important day, but I really hope you can forgive me,” your voice grows softer the more you speak, dropping to a whisper by the end of your sentence. The room is silent, save for the sound of Seokjin’s breathing and your rapidly beating heart. Your mouth feels like sandpaper when you continue, “I know this might not make it up to you entirely, but I do have a gift that I want to share with you.”

At the mention of the word “gift,” you can see the way the small hamster ears perched on his head start to twitch. You smile secretively to yourself, knowing that you finally got his attention. “Come on, sweetie. Don’t you want to know what your present is?”

With a loud sigh, Seokjin rolls over to face you, his cheeks blotchy with tear stains and dried snot. You nearly cry out at the sight, but you keep your guilt to yourself, now more eager than ever to right your wrongs. You hate seeing him cry, most especially when it is you who had made him shed those tears.

“You got me a gift?” His voice is hoarse, but his curiosity is plain as day.

You nod happily, clapping your hands with excitement. “Yup! I know this will be the first time Seokjinnie is celebrating his birthday with me, so I thought long and hard about this—” a complete lie, but he doesn’t have to know that, “—and I thought it would be great if I gave you ten wishes for your birthday!”

There is a pause. In lieu of a response, Seokjin just sits up in bed, pushing off his blankets and blinking rapidly at you in disbelief. He rubs his eyes once, twice, but it still seems like he can’t believe what he’s seeing (and hearing). His mouth opens and closes, before finally saying, “Excuse me?”

You arch a brow, slightly confused as to why Seokjin seemed so astonished. “What? Do you not want ten wishes for your birthday?”

Seokjin shakes his head, looking like a possessed bobblehead with how quickly he moves. “No, of course I do! I just… You trust me enough to make ten wishes? Me?”

You cringe. “Well, trust is a strong word…”

“I knew it!” Seokjin scoffs, pointing at you accusingly. He flops back onto the bed, a deep pout on his face. “My ten wishes are probably gonna be stuff like ‘No cooking duties for a month!’ or something equally as lame.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, yes that could be one of your wishes if you so desired. But no, you can ask for fun stuff too.”

Seokjin raises a finger. “Oh really? Then how about—”

“No wishes that will allow you to attain world domination,” you interrupt, watching amusedly when he immediately deflates.

“Aww,” Seokjin mutters, dropping his finger. A second later, he raises the same finger again. “Then—”

“And no bodily augmentations as well,” you add.

Seokjin looks down at his crotch dejectedly. “Aww!” Seokjin repeats. ”Then what else am I supposed to ask for?!”

You shrug, tapping your chin. “Well, is there anything else in that empty skull of yours that you might want? There should be something you want that you can’t have.”

For a moment, Seokjin’s expression turns cloudy, like he usually does when he’s thinking deeply about something. It might have been the trick of the morning light, but you swear he gives you a quick once over, tongue poking out to wet his chapped lips. “I have an idea,” he says, voice low.

You feel your palms begin to sweat, unused to the dark look on Seokjin’s face. Anticipation fills you as you both stare at each other, neither willing to back down. “Y-yes?” you say, suddenly nervous to hear his response.

He smirks, tilting his head with contemplation. “I want…”

What? What do you want? You squeeze your fists unknowingly, forcibly keeping yourself from squeezing other parts of your body. Could it be..? No…

“Seokjin—”

“I want to beat Jeon Jungkook in a spicy noodle challenge. Just once in my fucking life!” Seokjin hollers, punching his pillow in the midst of his unexpected fury. His eyes are blazing, cheeks puffed up due to his unbridled hamster-y rage. “That little bunny bitch! Thinks he’s hot shit just because he can eat two more cups of spicy ramen more than me? Well, I want him to finally get a taste of his own medicine!”

You feel your shoulders sag in relief, wondering where on earth your brain had been going just a moment ago. “You… You want to get a spice resistance potion? Yeah, I can do that for you. Give me a second,” you say, dashing out of his room like your ass is on fire, afraid that he might notice the blush dusting the tops of your ears. You mentally slap yourself, biting the insides of your cheeks to keep from strangling yourself. Keep it together, Y/N. Remember how much of an idiot he is and you’ll be fine… Just don’t think too hard about it.

Lucky for Seokjin, spice resistance potions are quick enough to make and it only takes you 10 minutes to cork the finished concoction for him. You scurry back to his bedroom, about to hand the small vial over to him when the words get caught in your throat. You’re momentarily paralyzed by the sight of his naked back, his ocean-wide broad shoulders on full display for your wandering eyes to feast on. Naked Seokjin isn’t even a rare occurrence in your household, but it doesn’t get easier to witness even as the days go by. In fact, you guess it only gets harder for you, pun intended.

Thankfully (or unthankfully), Seokjin slips on a clean shirt before turning to you, his expression lighting up when he sees you (with your mouth still fully agape) with the potion in hand. “Nice one, Y/N!” He takes the vial from you, peering at the minty green color with glee. “Oh damn, when I see that little shithead, he’s not gonna know what hit him!”

“Are you gonna go challenge him today?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’d rather spend my birthday doing other things. Plus, I already have better ideas for the remaining nine wishes I have left.”

“Such as?”

He pats your head a little condescendingly, a devious smirk playing on his lips. “No need to worry your little head, Y/N. You don’t even need to work for four wishes, because I know for a fact that you have these potions in your stock,” he says, laughing maniacally as he scampers off to your basement storage.

“Seokjin!” You call out to him, wondering not for the first time how he always manages to outrun you despite doing nothing all day except eat sunflower seeds and play videogames all day. Though you assume it might have to do with his rodent DNA, as the little shit always did manage to slip from your fingers when you’re strangling holding him in his tiny furry form.

When you get to your cellar, you find him rummaging through your stores and softly humming a tune as he takes his time sorting through your potions. You try to peek over his shoulders to see what he’s doing, but it’s a lost cause as his entire frame somehow manages to block your entire view. Fuck him and his doorframe shoulders.

“Hey, I heard that!” Seokjin says, making you realize belatedly that you did say it out loud—not that you particularly cared if he heard. You’ve thought and said worse, plus he knows it. He thrives on being an asshole.

“Can you at least tell me what you want? I can find them for you too, as long as they aren’t… too dangerous,” you say the last part skeptically, not knowing what is categorized as “dangerous” when it comes to him. For all you know, he could somehow find a way to kill a man with a healing potion.

“No, no. I got it. Here,” he hands you a medium-sized vial filled with a colorless liquid. When you turn the bottle over, you see that you labeled it as one of your hair color changing mood potions, a popular novelty potion that you sold to kids at the market sometimes.

“Why on earth would you want this?” You snort. “Let me guess… You want to feed this to Yoongi so that you can anticipate whenever he’s about to scratch your eyeballs?”

“Close, but not quite! I want you to drink it,” Seokjin says, poking his head out of the cupboard to give you a quick smile. He winks at you, which you do not return. “Come on then. Drink up!”

You squint at him incredulously. When he doesn’t seem to be joking, you exclaim, “Hold on. Why on earth do you want me to drink this?”

But Seokjin has already shoved his head back into the cupboard, the sound of bottles clinking together nearly drowning out his voice as he struggles to find the other potions he’s looking for. “No particular reason! I just never see you with crazy hair colors and I always wondered how you’d look like in pink. I think it’d suit you.”

You flush darkly in response, stammering loudly at his brazenness. “But pink is the color for…” You trail off, embarrassment short-circuiting your brain. No way he could mean… that, could he?!

“Pink is for happiness, right?” Seokjin says after a moment, not noticing your awkward demeanor as he finally exits the cupboard, three other bottles cradled carefully in his arms. He closes the wooden door with his foot, walking out of the cellar with his prizes and not bothering to check if your dumbfounded self is following suit.

It takes a second for you to snap out of your stupor, yelping when he nearly slams the basement door on your face. “No, you idiot! Yellow is for happiness! Oh Merlin, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” you curse, treading closely on his heels.

Seokjin looks at you with confusion, but he thankfully doesn’t ask what specific mood the color pink represents. “Well, I guess you’re gonna have to live with yellow hair all day.”

“And why is that?” you say lamely.

“Because I’ll get to see how happy you are to be with me! After all, I am so incredibly handsome,” Seokjin laughs haughtily. He waits for you to open the door back to the house, his resounding laughter sounding even louder when you both enter, given the acoustics of your home.

“Then I guess my hair will be blue all day instead,” you scoff, pinching him lightly in the side.

“Oh? Because you’re sad that you can’t be as pretty as me? Understandable,” he nods sagely. “Or perhaps you’ll turn green with envy because you can’t be as pretty as me? Or even orange with fear, because you can’t be as pretty as—”

After living with him for so long, you’ve long since developed the ability to mute him out without needing to plug your ears with anything. It’s a necessary skill that you pride yourself in having, as it allows you to live in peace with the insufferable twat. You pity anyone who has ever had to live with him for an extended period of time; dear Merlin, you hope to meet his mother someday, as she must have been incredibly powerful to birth such a beast into existence and raise him willingly, too.

“Hey, are you listening to me? Are you muting me again? ON MY BIRTHDAY? Stop that!” Seokjin whines, poking you in the cheek. You startle slightly, pointing him with an annoyed look.

“Sorry, your highness. Does that count as one of your wishes? Because I honestly don’t think I can handle listening to you ALL DAY. I may be a talented witch, but even I don’t think that’s within my capabilities.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, sticking his tongue out petulantly. “Whatever. Just drink the potion already, will you? Or would you rather I ask for a mind-reading potion instead?”

That shut you up quickly. You shudder at the thought of Seokjin with any sort of telepathic powers. You don’t consider yourself a saint, but you feel as though it’s your duty to keep him away from any sort of power. The world should thank you for your service, honestly.

Without further ado, you pop the cork off the bottle, downing the plasticky tasting potion in one big gulp. “Ugh. I don’t know why kids love this stuff. Tastes like shit.” You grimace, rushing to your kitchen to grab a glass of water.

On your way there, you notice your hair color begins to change from the mirror you keep above the kitchen sink. Your roots are starting to gain a light brown color, the default shade of the potion, but the color quickly drains out as you take your first sip of water. By the time the terrible taste is out of your tongue, your hair has turned completely gray. You finger your tresses, staring at its unnatural steeliness. “Well, at least we know it works. Gray means neutral if I remember correctly.”

“Damn, so this is how you’d look when you turn 50. Would still bang, not gonna lie,” Seokjin whistles, narrowly missing a jab to the stomach from you.

“No one asked for your opinion,” you retort hotly, hoping to the heavens that your hair isn’t changing color again.

Judging from Seokjin’s smirk, your prayers are useless. He cards a hand through your hair, admiring its new color. “Oh, interesting! Purple is for embarrassment, right? Wow, this is gonna be much more fun than I would have imagined!”

“A-anyway,” you slap his hand away, taking a step away from him to keep him from seeing your burning face (though it’s not like you hadn’t already been exposed anyway. Stupid magic potion.) You point to the three remaining bottles he had stolen from your basement, eager to divert the conversation away from the topic of your vulnerable emotions. “What about these? What on earth would you need—” You turn one of the bottles upside down, reading the label. “An illusion potion? Oh Seokjin, I don’t know about this one…”

Seokjin groans. “Oh, come on! The only rules you had were no world domination and no body augmentation, but you never said anything about fake body augmentation!”

“Trust you to find a loophole in any given circumstance,” you sigh, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to stall the incoming migraine (too late for that, given that the personified version of a headache happens to live with you.) “Okay, fine. Tell me what you’re gonna use it for and then I’ll decide.”

“Simple,” Seokjin snaps his fingers. He trails his hands to his ass, squeezing the globes of fat with a sad sigh. “I want people to think I have an ass thicker than Park Jimin’s.”

For some indiscernible, unconnected reason, you feel as though one of the blood vessels in your brain just popped. In any case, having a stroke might be a better fate than continuing to live in the same universe as the withered toenail in front of you. “I beg you to repeat that sentence. Think about your words first, really grasp their true meaning. Try to remember what it’s like to have functioning brain cells. Then try to repeat your words with a straight face.”

“I. Want. People. To. Think. I. Have. An. Ass. Thicker. Than. Park. Jimin’s.” Seokjin repeats, his expression as flat as his ass. “Are you happy now? Will you grant my wish, please? You said no bodily augmentations, so having the illusion that I have thick ass should be perfectly acceptable, is it not?”

“I rue the day you learned to speak the human language.” You sigh irritably, pocketing the offending potion. When Seokjin begins to protest, you silence him with a quick glare. “Don’t worry, you fucking moron. I’m only allowing you to use this potion with my supervision and I simply don’t have the time to watch you bump bubble butts with the local village thot right now,” you explain.

Seokjin nods, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Indeed… I will need your assistance when I walk into town once everyone sees me with my ass shots and tiddies done. The people will simply devour me in an instant.”

“Are you aware that every moment you breathe, you are poisoning the air with your toxic presence?” you say with a deadpan stare. Ignoring his indignant squawks, you take a look at the two remaining bottles. “Alright. Please fucking tell me these are at least slightly sensible choices…”

“If there’s anything I know after living with you, it’s that our definitions of ‘sensible’ vary greatly between us,” Seokjin says, and for once you couldn’t agree more. He takes the last two bottles, turning them over to show you the labels underneath. “They’re luck and truth potions, each with a dose worth one hour. And before you say anything,” Seokjin beats you to the punch, holding a finger up when it looks like you’re about to protest, “These aren’t for me.”

You scrunch your brow in confusion, not quite following his logic. “What? Then what’s the point?”

Seokjin’s grin is mischievous, the twinkle in his eye sending a shiver down your spine. You’re familiar with that look, as it’s the same kind of expression he has whenever he plans to do something incredibly stupid, like eating uncooked noodles before pouring boiling water down his throat in order to eat instant ramen faster. You’ve been at the victim of too many of his ridiculous schemes to not know that whatever he is planning can’t be innocent.

“It’s simple, my dear Y/N. This is all part of my ingenious master plan that I thought of ten minutes ago,” Seokjin explains, tittering haughtily like some poorly designed video game villain. “Hold the applause, because my plan is going to rock your socks off.”

“I’m not even wearing any socks.”

“Then my plan will put socks on you, my dear. That’s how incredible it is,” Seokjin says, undeterred. “So basically, we’re finally going to get Yoongi and Namjoon to fuck.”

Seokjin pauses for dramatic effect, waving his hands around like a magician would, except the only magical act he’s ever performed was to be born as the first-ever living creature without a functioning brain. “Well?” he prompts, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Are you not going to ask me how I’m going to do it?”

Your expression morphs from confusion, to incredulity, to frustration, to acceptance all in five seconds flat. You’ve long since realized that it’s easier not to ask too many questions for the sake of your mental health, though you suppose it might be important to ask a few questions, mostly for the sake of your friends’ safety. You’ve lost enough acquaintances as it is, all because your familiar with rocks for brains wouldn’t know decency if you shoved it up his ass. 

(PS: No, they aren’t dead, but they’ve told you that Seokjin makes them feel like death anyway. That’s just the sort of effect he has on people.)

“Fine, I’ll bite. What’s your ingenious plan to get Yoongi and Namjoon to fuck entail?” you ask, gritting your teeth in preparation to withstand the pure, unadulterated strength of his dumbassery.

“Well firstly, I need the luck potion to win rock, paper, scissors against Yoongi,” Seokjin starts, smirking at the thought. “It’s been my dream to beat him at the game, as the score right now between the two of us is 349 to null in his favor—”

“That’s just because you always play paper. Consistently. You never use scissors or rock,” you deadpan.

Seokjin gasps, holding a finger up to your lips to silence you. “I am above using rocks! I am no barbarian! And do you think I’d ever use scissors? That is just one step away from me throwing up a peace sign like some sort of weeb!” Seokjin retorts, nose upturned in the air. You struggle to keep your fists by your sides, the itch to punch him in his perfectly sculpted nose growing by the second.

“Regardless, I intend to win this time,” Seokjin continues. “And I will make him take the truth potion as my prize for winning so that he may finally confess his feelings for Namjoon and end their five-year-long mutual suffering.”

“Don’t you mean mutual pining?” 

“Same thing,” Seokjin shrugs. “You and I both know that those two idiots will continue to skirt around each other like teenagers who only just realized that their penises can be used in different ways other than for pissing. They’ve been in love with each other for far too long and I intend to be the cupid that brings those two together.”

“Why must you phrase things like that,” you sigh, not really asking with the intent of hearing an answer. You’ve been asking him the same question for months now, and have yet to receive an answer that isn’t “because I can!”

“So does that mean you’ll let me use the luck and truth potions?” Seokjin asks, his lip jutted out in what he probably presumes is a cute manner, but all it does is make him look like his bottom lip got stung by a hornet. (Still kinda cute though, you think to yourself.)

After taking another five seconds to deeply access the state of your life, you sigh tiredly, feeling weary beyond your years. Figures that he would notice the attraction between your two best friends, but still remains oblivious to your own feelings. 

“Fine,” you acquiesce, crossing your arms in an attempt to look annoyed. You aren’t doing a very good job, however, as you try not to smile at Seokjin’s unabashed excitement. Fuck him for being so adorable when he’s happy. Why couldn’t he be excited over more normal things, like R-18 video games or hentai?

You clear your throat, stopping his celebration. “Do you really want to spend your birthday getting Namjoon and Yoongi to get together though? Pardon me for saying this, but I seriously didn’t think you’d want to help them.”

“Why not?”

“You always seemed a little too enthusiastic whenever the two of them were being...” you pause, stuck on the word you want to use.

“Super stupidly horny for each other? Yeah, I admit that I do enjoy watching Namjoon getting a boner whenever Yoongi does that weird cat thing,” he says, shrugging.

“Weird cat thing? You mean when he stretches and his entire torso grows twice as long?”

“Precisely!” Seokjin claps his hands, grinning ear to ear. “It’s super gross and weirdly cute! I don’t know how Namjoon finds that even remotely horny-inducing. Must be a cat person thing.”

You shake your head, unwilling to think deeper about the psychological mechanisms of your friends. “Besides the point. Do you want to head over to Namjoon’s place now? They invited us for dinner tomorrow to celebrate your birthday anyway, so we can always do this next time, or…”

“Hell no,” Seokjin is quick to interject, knowing that you're just trying to weasel your way out of being an accomplice in his ill-planned hijinks. Your shoulders slump in defeat. "You are not getting out of this. We are doing this today before either of us forget! C'mon, it won't take that long."

"That's what I was afraid you'd say," you grumble. "But fine. Just gimme a sec to get ready," you point at Seokjin's ahegao printed pajamas with disgust, "—and you should probably change out your clothes too."

Seokjin looks down at his clothes with a confused expression. "What's wrong with my PJs?"

"I think the more important question is what's wrong with you," you reply, stalking off to your bedroom. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear his squawks of offense.

As you hadn't gotten sleep the night before, you only just notice that you're still wearing yesterday's clothes on your back, the sweat after hours of worrying about what to get Seokjin making your shirt stick grossly to your armpits. You strip off quickly, doing your best to freshen up and look semi-decent (though there isn't much of a need; you've been friends with Namjoon long enough that he's seen you at your worst.)

You pass by your dresser, seeing your reflection in the mirror. Your hair color is shifting from yellow to brown at a rapid pace, making it appear as though you'd been the victim of a terrible dye job.

"I'm a victim, for sure..." you mutter to yourself, fingering your multi-colored locks. The brown color is for annoyance, which shouldn't be much of a surprise to anyone, but the yellow? Happiness isn’t exactly the word you’d describe your emotions right now. And also, do your eyes deceive you? Is there a patch of pink appearing just at the crown of your head?

“No, no… This is no good at all.” You force yourself to think of sad thoughts, trying desperately for the colors to change—but to no avail. Luckily, that hamster bastard doesn't remember what pink means, or else you'd definitely be screwed, and maybe not even in the good way.

You sigh tiredly, slumping over onto your bed when the fatigue from the day finally hits you. “It’s only morning, and I already want to die. Must be a record,” you snort in exasperation, watching as the tips of your hair turn black in response. “Wow, thanks magic. No one would have guessed I was tired unless you said so,” you mutter sarcastically. 

You never thought that you were much of a tsundere, but you're starting to understand the appeal. People knowing your emotions so easily is disconcerting, to say the least. You'd rather die than let Seokjin know that his stupid little antics actually do make you happy, since spending time with him doing pretty much anything is always a good time. It's just... someone has to hold the brain cell in the relationship, and you never would have expected that you'd be the wielder majority of the time.

When you step out back into the living room feeling more refreshed, Seokjin is ready to go. Which is to say, he hasn't moved a single inch from where he was standing just ten minutes ago.

"You bitch! I told you to get dressed," you snap. You pull him by the ear, making the 179 cm adult man whine like a little baby. "Take your clothes off!"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he wheezes, still grimacing from the throbbing pain from where you had tugged his lobe. He tries to wink at you but fails tremendously. He looks like he’s having a funky lil seizure instead. "Just transform me into my animal form and let me ride in your pocket. It's too cold out to walk! You know how sensitive my nipples are! They turn into ping pong balls when it's winter."

"I don't care. Please stop using me as your personal taxi service; you've shat in the pockets of two of my coats already," you grumble, but your pleas remain unheard. He pouts, and your feeble willpower disintegrates immediately at the sight. You sigh, "But since it's your birthday, I won't complain about it this time."

"You literally just complained though?"

You ignore him. You outstretch your finger, ready to boop. "Alright, gimme your nose, wench."

Instead of coming closer as you expected, Seokjin just gives you a contemplative look. Never a good sign. "Actually, that gives me an idea..."

"Oh, dear Merlin. Not another one of those. Please spare me," you groan.

"This one is easy though!" Seokjin tuts, bonking you on the head. You hear something click in the back of your skull, but now is not the time to ponder about such trivialities. He continues, "Instead of my nose being my transformation point... Do you think you could—"

"I am not making your penis your transformation point," you interrupt.

"—make my butt my transformation point? Wait, hold on, nevermind. I think I like your idea better," Seokjin jumps in excitement, but his mirth dies when he sees your unimpressed stare. "Okay, fine. No penis touching. But butts! You touch my butt all the time anyway! It shouldn't be that different."

"Yeah, but I only touch your ass so often because you beg me to punch and massage it in hopes of it becoming bigger. Which, by the way, isn't a real thing. You should do squats instead or something."

Seokjin gasps, scandalized. "Me? Working out? Please, that's as improbable as Yoongi turning into a regular-sized person!"

"I'm telling Yoongi you said that," you roll your eyes. "And to answer your question, no I won't switch your transformation point to your—" Wait, hold the phone. That gives you an idea. A glorious plan, something that might finally teach him a lesson.

No way in hell he would fall for that, though, you think idly to yourself. You’d be too obvious! Unless..?

"What is it?" Seokjin asks, confused when you suddenly stop speaking. He gazes curiously at the way your eyes are glazed over, concerned when he sees the way the corners of your lips twitch slightly. "What's up with you?"

You snap out of your reverie, your mischievous thought quickly cementing itself in your mind. Seokjin may be a chaotic shithead, but so are you. No one can endure living with Kim Seokjin for long without gaining a few shithead genes in the process, and you're no exception. This will teach him to be a little more conscientious, you hope. It's a pipedream, but as they say... Reach for the moon, and if you miss, then at least you'll get swallowed up by a black hole and turn into spaghetti.

"Nothing. Just had a thought, thot." You whistle innocently, barely holding down your grin when Seokjin stares at you suspiciously. Fortunately, your hair color hasn't given you away. To be fair, you didn't know light blue was the color for being a jackass either; you learn something new every day. "Nevermind that. I changed my mind. I'll grant your wish. After all, it is your birthday."

"That's right!" Seokjin exclaims, but there's a note of uncertainty and nervousness in his tone. He squints at you, pursing his lips. "Aha... Of course, it's only right that you give me what I want. It's what you promised, after all."

"Yes, yes... What Seokjin wants, Seokjin gets..." You trail off, your mind preoccupied as you hurriedly go over to your kitchen cupboard. You aren't sure if you kept them or not, so it takes you a few moments of sifting through all the bottles of herbs before you find it in the back, where it has gained a thin layer of dust all over it. You wipe it off, humming in victory when you see that it's exactly what you need.

You take a quick look at the bottom of the bottle, pleased to see that Namjoon had forgotten to label it, like always. But you remember what it is, even though you've never really quite needed to use this particular herb. He had given it to you as a strange novelty item a long time ago: it was an ingredient for obscure potions that were never really ordered at regular magical apothecaries, which is why it had remained untouched in your cupboard until today.

By itself, it has strong magical properties too, or rather... You suppose it would be more accurate to call them side effects. It has an incredibly confounding side effect that some might consider dangerous, which is why it's important to handle this herb with the proper protective equipment. Not that Seokjin would know that, of course.

"Here," you say, handing over the innocuous-looking bottle to Seokjin. He peers at it, turning it over to look for the nonexistent label.

"What is this? Weed?" he murmurs, popping the lid open and taking a tentative sniff. "Doesn't smell like it," he says, raising a brow in confusion. You let out a small giggle, but thankfully, he doesn't notice your slip up.

"Nah, it's called the Baliktad herb. I remember that Namjoon had given it to me ages ago, and it's coincidentally something you can use to... transfer magic from one body part to another." You choose your words carefully, though it's not like you're lying, anyway. Vagueness is the first step in deceit, after all.

"Really? How does it work?" 

"Simple! All you have to do is grind some of the herbs into a powder, mix it with some water to form a paste, then rub it on your nose and your butt. Wait a few seconds and poof!"

Seokjin nods, intrigued. "Wow, I've never heard of this thing before. Are there other uses for this? Say, what if I rubbed some of it on my dick instead—"

"Oh shut the fuck up and give me that," you grab the bottle back, glaring at his impish face. "You know what? I can't trust you to administer it on yourself. Lemme make the paste and I'll rub it on you."

"That sounds hot," Seokjin winks, barely dodging your kick to his nuts. "Hey, hey! Feet off the prize, darling! My balls are where the ladies get their babies."

To stop yourself from screaming, you keep your mouth shut this once. Besides, you're too excited for what you're about to do to him, so keeping silent is a small price to pay. All of it will be worth when you finally give him a taste of his own medicine. Or rather, a smell of his own medicine.

When you finish grinding the herb into a paste, you clear your throat, gesturing for Seokjin to sit on the couch. "Alright, let me put some on your honker first before I get to your ass. And no, you better not make some 'ass is grass' joke."

Seokjin visibly deflates. "Hey, what the fuck? You stole my joke before I even said it! I guess that's soulmate culture for you," he sighs dreamily, before yelping loudly when you shove two gloved fingers up his nostrils. "Hey! What was that for!"

"Oh, sorry," you apologize unapologetically. "I was just worried that if I slathered it on top of your nose, I might accidentally trigger your transformation, so I took the safer route it jammed it up your nostrils instead."

"Whatever happened to a gentlelady's touch..." he whines, scowling petulantly at you. "Wait, if you're gonna jam it up my nostrils, then does that you're also gonna jam it up my—"

Before he can finish his sentence, you push him down onto his stomach, kneeling on his back and literally stealing his breath away. "Aight, rat. I'm shoving your pants down now," you warn gruffly. He makes a winded sound, probably a snarky response that would have made you slap his nuts. Fortunately, your legs were currently crushing his windpipe and leaving him incapable of speaking.

It's funny how you’ve become numb to the sight of his naked ass at this point. Once upon a time, you had blushed constantly at the sight of his sweet cheeks, making for an awkward first two months of living together. Every time you close your eyes, the two globes would be imprinted underneath your lids, haunting you. Nowadays, you'd be more concerned if he wasn't wearing his signature "God Won't Let Me Die" booty shorts.

Also, despite what he says, he isn't completely assless. He has a substantial amount of cake, certainly nothing to scoff at. You grumble and moan about "having" to massage his ass, but honestly? Who wouldn't want to grab his ass? You might be stupid, but you aren't an idiot.

“The salve is going to be cold, by the way,” you warn, though it’s useless to say at this point since he already experienced it when you shoved up his nose just two minutes ago. Whatever. 

Unlike then, you are much gentler applying the salve on his butt this time, mostly out of fear that 1) you'd accidentally penetrate his asshole with your finger like that one time (don't ask), or 2) you'd massage his butt like you know he wants you to.

“Harder, mommy,” he fake moans, wiggling his ass. You almost slap him on instinct, but think better of it.

"I hate that you're such a... debauched cretin," you say, tenderly rubbing his ass with a scowl. If any bystander were to see you, they'd might have thought you were his kind girlfriend rubbing medicine on a bruise or massaging your poor fatigued boyfriend. One might have even thought you were rubbing him a little bit too sensually, but little do people know... You were playing a stupid little prank on your dumbass familiar that may or may not cause him to beat you up (not that it would be much of a punishment to you, anyway. They don’t write romances like these anymore, huh?)

He taps you on the thigh, and you guess that he’s probably having difficulty breathing from your weight on his back. Feeling kinda bad for him, you shift your legs over, choosing to straddle him instead. However, the regret from your decision comes instantaneously the moment he regains his breath.

"You love me, though. You think I'm funny," Seokjin replies, albeit his voice is still a little strained under your weight.  "You think I'm cute, too."

Yeah, you do. "I think your hamster form is cute. Get that shit out of your head," you scoff, but your heated cheeks betray you.

“I can’t see you right now, but I bet your hair is an insane shade of purple, isn’t it?” he teases, wiggling like a worm to express his glee.

“Fuck you,” you grouse. You slap his thigh twice in retribution: the first one for teasing you, and the second one for pretending to moan after you had slapped him the first time.

He was only half-right about your hair, anyway. You catch a glimpse of your pastel purple and pink hair from the corner of your eye, alarmingly visible for all to see. Honestly, it doesn’t take a lot of brainpower to figure out what pink actually means, most especially since you have never been subtle with your affections for him. After all, not everyone has the patience to keep up with his antics. The fact that you haven’t squashed him into a tiny hamster pancake is proof enough that you really do love him.

I mean, who else would give Kim Seokjin ten wishes on his birthday? That's giving him way too much power that no one should be comfortable with. Just goes to show that maybe like attracts like, sometimes. You must be a little crazy too, you suppose.

He’s never caught on to your feelings, however, as he probably thinks you’re more like an annoying younger sister or something. After all, you bicker with him more than anything else, but that’s just how it is on this bitch of an earth.

Luckily or unluckily for you, Seokjin doesn’t comment on your hair color when he sits up after you finish rubbing the herbs onto his gooch. He’s much too busy wrinkling his nose in confusion, his forehead scrunching as the herbs are presumably starting to take effect.

“How am I supposed to know when the herbs work?” he asks, scratching his nose. The salve has dried out considerably, turning more into flecks that fall off when he disturbs it. So now, it looks like he has disgusting leathery boogers hanging out from his nostrils. Somehow, he makes it work anyway.

“Oh, you’ll know,” you respond vaguely, smiling when you can tell that Seokjin’s suspicions are beginning to grow. “Want me to test it out?”

Seokjin nods, leaning closer and presenting you with his nose. You tap him gently on the tip (lol), both of you waiting for the scent of caramel and mint to signal his shift. When nothing comes, Seokjin gasps in elation, clapping his hands gleefully as he bounces up and down in his seat.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe that worked! I was so sure you were gonna prank me… I overestimated you,” he says haughtily, pointing his stupid nose up in the air. He guffaws, standing up and wagging his ass at you smugly. “C’mon, then! Slap my ass and let’s see if it really works!”

You don’t move immediately, disappointed when the actual effect of the herb doesn’t seem to be working. You pout, observing him skeptically. “Wait, hold on. Are you sure you don’t feel weird?”

His victory hoots come to an abrupt halt. “No? Why would I be?”

“Don’t you… smell anything odd?”

Seokjin looks at you weirdly. “No? Unless you count not smelling my transformation scent, then—wait, just a second.” He freezes up, sniffing the air with a disgusted expression on his face. “Shit, you’re right! There’s something super funky in the air. You didn’t fuck up my sense of smell or something, did you?”

“Nope,” you say, popping your p. Your smirk grows, breathy giggles escaping you. “Say, can you describe what you’re smelling?”

“Oh Merlin, it’s terrible! It smells like shit? Like fucking… like ass or something!” He grimaces, sticking his tongue out as he is assaulted by the stench that only he can smell. “What the fuck is that? Oh my fucking word…”

You’re breaking into full out laughter at this point, nearly falling over onto the floor from the strength of your mirth. You barely hear Seokjin’s squawks of bewilderment, ignoring his demands to tell him what you had done to him.

“I can’t believe it worked,” you wheeze, hunched over on your knees. You’re spraying spit everywhere from your hysterics, though you are exaggerating your delight a little just to piss Seokjin off. You point and scream at his face, hollering like a banshee until he finally grabs your wrists to make you stop.

“Out with it! What the hell did you do to me?” he shouts, shaking you roughly with unhinged eyes.

It takes you a moment to respond, unable to breathe through your giggles. “You—you’re fucking—smelling your own—wheeze—your own ass!”

Seokjin stares at you, dumbfounded. “What?!”

“Your—HAHA—your fucking ass! I switched your nose to your ass, you idiot! Just like you asked!”

Seokjin’s jaw drops, complete bafflement and betrayal on his expression. He backs away from you, shaking his head slowly with bugged-out eyes as he begins to fully understand the weight of your treachery. “You,” he seethes, venom dripping from that singular word. He sounds like a pet owner about to scold their dumbass cat for eating his prized plastic big booby women figurines or something. 

You grin sweetly back at him, batting your eyelashes for extra effect. “Me? What about me?”

You don’t even have the reflexes to dodge him when he lunges for you, grabbing your neck and strangling you. “You bitch! How could you do this to me on my birthday!”

“Hehehe…” you wheeze, sounding even more goblin-ish with his grip on your throat. “You underestimated me, bastard. You asked for your ass to become your transformation point, and I did. You never said I couldn’t make transfer your sense of smell, too.”

“I didn’t ask you to make me smell my own ass! This is fucking garbage!” he yells, letting you go. You gasp for breath, but you’re still shaking with laughter at the absolutely deranged look in his eyes. He looks like an ape that was recently set free from his enclosure and out onto the streets.

“That’s what you get for not wiping your ass, then!” you retort, sticking your tongue out petulantly.

“Well, we can’t go to Namjoon’s house when all I can smell is my own fucking ass! Merlin, I should’ve downed the luck potion when you left to get changed, but I wanted to be A GOOD PERSON and so decided against it,” he sniffs, utterly irked by this turn of events. “I’m never going to be a moral person again!”

“When have you ever been one? I wasn’t even aware you had a conscience,” you say. “Wait, that reminds me. I’ll be taking these until we go to Namjoon’s, then!” You grab the luck and truth potions, keeping them behind your back. Seokjin immediately tries to grab them, but you’re quick to punch him in the gut with your free hand.

“Ooph! You’re such a meanie—aw shit!” Seokjin screams, holding his hands to his nose instinctively. “Fuck! That was a dirty move! You know hitting my stomach makes me fart! I can’t even cover my nose!”

“Hey, maybe for your next wish, you should ask for some cake. Then maybe we can recreate the cake farts video,” you suggest, mostly as a joke. But of course, you shouldn’t have been surprised when Seokjin starts to seriously contemplate your offer.

“Hmm… I was gonna ask for cake next, but now you’re making me really want cake now,” he hums, shrugging you off when you hit him in retaliation. “What? Why do you keep hitting me?! You’re the one who said it, not me! We might as well turn lemons into lemonade!”

“It was a fucking joke, you moron! I’m seriously going to eat you if you don’t stop being weird—”

“Oh shit, how do you keep reading my mind? Vore was gonna be my next wish too—”

“Shut up!” you hiss, your ears perking up. “I think I heard something from outside.”

You were both so busy bickering with each other that you hadn’t noticed that the doorbell had been ringing for the last minute or so. You both freeze, hearing the shrill sound of the bell going off, followed by three loud knocks. “Hello? Y/N? Are you home?” a familiar voice calls out. “It’s me, Taehyung!”

“Taehyung?” you shriek, staring incredulously at the door. He isn’t meant to visit until the end of the month to pick up refills for his grandfather’s medication. What could he need all of a sudden? “H-hold on! Gimme one sec!”

You’re only two steps away from answering the door when a growl (a squeal? Can hamsters growl?) stops you in your tracks. You slowly turn back to Seokjin, your blood running cold when you remember his blatant dislike for this particular customer. In fact, his aversion towards Taehyung runs so deep that you never allow him to stay in his human form around him lest he begins cursing him out like a sailor.

It doesn’t help, however, that Taehyung only ever sees him in his hamster form and constantly coos at him like a pet. You’ve had to apologize numerous times for the dozens of bites all over his hands and arms, but Taehyung always laughs it off, too oblivious to realize that a two-inch hamster wants to suffocate him with his own mullet.

There seems to be no discernable reason as to why Seokjin loathes Taehyung with such passion, though you’ve always suspected that it’s because he feels threatened by people prettier than him. You’d be the last person to admit to him that he’ll always be the prettiest in your eyes, especially since it would only make him ten times more insufferable.

Until then, Taehyung is just going to have to deal with a murderous, psychotic furball coming for his life. 

Aforementioned psychotic furball takes a step towards the front door, but you’re quick to block his path. “Don’t you dare,” you warn, but you can already sense Seokjin’s hackles rising.

“I know what I want for my next wish,” Seokjin responds instead, disregarding your order.

“Overruled. I’m not letting you kick Taehyung in the nuts,” you say, hands poised to attack. You’re about to smack him on the nose when you realize that it’s not going to work this time. “Fuck! Give me your ass! I am not letting you get away with murder for your birthday!”

“I’ll give you my ass next time, darling. For now, I must defeat my sworn enemy, once and for all!” he howls, making a mad dash towards the door. “I’ll kill you, pretty boy! Only one person can be pretty, and it’s going to be me!”

He may be quicker than you on a regular day, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins gives you enough speed to land a loud, fat slap on his ass before he can even think to twist the doorknob open. Seokjin yelps in surprise as he turns towards you with a betrayed look in his eyes, before promptly being swallowed up by pink smoke and leaving an aggressive ball of fur where he once stood.

“Squeak! Squeak squeak squeak squeak!!” he squeaks, and you’ve long since learned his mannerisms well enough that you know that he just said “Y/N! I’ll fucking kill you!!” or something to that effect.

You pick him up gently into your hands, shushing him to no avail. “Fine, if you’re going to be that way—” you hiss, glaring at him when he gives you a haughty squeak. “—then I’ll just have to...yah!” you yell, hucking him across your living room and (safely) onto the couch.

(Caution: Do not do this to your hamsters. Seokjin is a magical hamster and is unnaturally sturdy, even in hamster form. He is an outlier and should not be counted. Plus, he deserves it.)

With Seokjin out of the way, you finally manage to get the door open without trouble. You greet Taehyung with a smile, although you do not doubt in your mind that you must look a bit worse for wear. Like the gentleman that he is, Taehyung doesn’t comment on your haggard appearance.

“Hey, Y/N. Sorry for intruding without notice. May I come in?” he asks. You nod a little too enthusiastically, stepping aside and allowing him into your abode. You glance at the couch, gasping quietly when you don’t see Seokjin anywhere. 

“Shit,” you curse lowly, to which Taehyung turns to you with a confused look.

“Pardon?” He must have mistaken your agitation to be directed towards him, as he bows to you apologetically. “Sorry again, you must be busy with other things today, but I’m in desperate need of a refill.”

“A refill?” you ask, semi-distracted as your eyes flit around the room, desperately searching for the small brown ball undoubtedly zipping around right under your nose. “What for? Is your grandfather doing okay?”

“Yes, ol’ pops is doing fine. I’m here to ask for a refill for… the other thing,” he coughs, cheeks darkening ever so slightly. His embarrassed tone breaks you from your search for Seokjin, forcing your gaze on him instead.

“The other thing? What do you mean—oh,” you interrupt yourself, finally understanding his meaning. “That thing.”

Taehyung nods frantically, hiding his face in his hands. “S-sorry, I know I asked for that potion as a one-time thing, but I met this new girl who’s really energetic, and let’s just say that I’m not keen on disappointing her when we’ve only started dating.”

You chuckle lightly, patting him on the back. “No need to explain, Tae. I’m not here to judge you. Besides, I just hope this girl doesn’t accidentally kill you like the previous one. Didn’t you say you went at it for three days straight?”

Taehyung groans, his flush growing until it reaches the back of his neck. “D-don’t even remind me about that! I accidentally took two doses of the potion that time and I was wishing for death by the seventh hour. I swear, I thought my dick was gonna turn into a raisin by the end of it—”

“Squeak!”

You both turn your heads towards the shrill noise coming from somewhere in your kitchen. “Shit, I forgot! T-Tae, just stay right here! I’ll be right back.” You jog towards the source, suddenly remembering that there was a live rodent on the loose with an evil agenda and only you would be able to stop him from fulfilling his goals.

You burst inside, immediately spotting that your bottom cupboard is ajar. It’s where you keep your extra stores of potions for regular customers, but you have very little time to wonder which potion Seokjin is aiming for before you’re already ripping open the door to stop the vermin.

“Oh you fucking little ballsack,” you snarl, dismayed when you realize that you’re too late. Seokjin has already found the potion he was looking for, having opened it up and already halfway finished drinking the damn thing.

You slap him away from the bottle before he can do any more damage, smacking him hard enough that his tiny hamster body slams against the cupboard wall. You don’t miss the victorious furry grin on his face, holding up a tiny hamster thumbs up to spite you. “What the hell did you drink?” you hiss, grabbing the half-empty bottle and flipping it over to read the label. “Verbosity potion… Oh, you bastard!”

You know Seokjin has always wanted to cuss out Taehyung like it’s his life mission, but you’ve always made sure that he was safely locked away in his bedroom whenever the younger boy was over for a visit. Seokjin knows today was his only opportunity to get his way, especially since he could always weasel his way out of punishment by using his birthday as an excuse.

“If you say even one word to Taehyung, I swear I’ll—”

“Y/N? Is everything alright?” Taehyung asks meekly from the living room, still standing where you had left him. He has his neck craned slightly to check up on you, but your back is thankfully blocking his view of the tiny psychopath you call your familiar.

“Y-yes! Everything’s just peachy keen,” you laugh nervously, your attention still focused on Seokjin. Your familiar has yet to make a peep, and both of you are slightly confused when he struggles to speak.

“S...squeak?” Seokjin asks, blinking in bewilderment. He looks to you for an explanation, but you’re as lost as he is. Not to toot your own horn, but you’re one of the greatest potion makers of your generation; it’s almost unheard of for your potions to not work.

You don’t question it for now; instead, you grab Taehyung’s requested refill from the back, the red and pink label making it easy to locate. “Here you go! This should be less intense than the previous one I gave you. This one will lose its effect once you’ve… finished, to say the least,” you grimace, smiling awkwardly.

Taehyung takes it from you, shaking your hands wildly. “Thank you so much, Y/N! You’re definitely a lifesaver. I owe you one,” he says, already making his way out the door. “I’ll hand over the payment to you when I come to pick up my grandfather’s medicines at the end of the month if that’s fine with you!”

“No worries, Tae. Take care!” you call out, waving goodbye until he closes your door shut. With Taehyung gone, you instantly return to kneel in front of your cupboard, where Seokjin is still slumped over, unmoving. He looks more dazed than usual, his black eyes unseeing as he stares somewhere behind you.

“Seokjin? You alright? Can you speak?” you ask, but he doesn’t react, as if he hadn’t heard you. You wave a hand in front of his face, snapping your fingers when that doesn’t work. “Hey, smooth brain. I’m sorry for smacking you, okay? I know it’s your birthday and I should be treating you better, but you really shouldn’t snoop around in my potion stores and drink stuff without my permission.”

When Seokjin still does not reply, you decide to pick him up and place him on the floor. You tap him on the bum, waiting a few seconds until Seokjin is back to his human form. When the smoke fades, he’s still stuck in his stupor, but you notice the dark red flush creeping up his neck and ears.

“Seokjinnie? Holy shit, are you okay?” You panic slightly, holding a hand up to his forehead and gasping when you feel the sharp rise in his body temperature. He is definitely feverish, and you’re worried that he might have had some allergic reaction to the potion or something. “Shit, are you getting a rash? Sweetie, can you hear me? Say something, please.”

“Y/N,” he rasps, licking his lips. His pupils are undilated to an unnerving degree, and his breathing is ragged. He stands up unsteadily, wobbling in place. “Fuck, I don’t really feel well.” His voice is deep, speaking unusually slower. You shudder involuntarily, fearful and intrigued all at once.

You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. Seokjin could seriously be in danger right now! Now is not the time to get horny! “Seokjin, explain how you feel. I’ll try to figure out what antidote I should make in case you actually did accidentally poison yourself with something,” you say hurriedly, going over to your stove and grabbing a spare cauldron from its rack. You’re grabbing random herbs and chucking them into a pot, too preoccupied and worried to hear Seokjin groan behind you.

“I feel… hot. And not in a sexy way,” Seokjin whimpers, curling into himself. There is sweat lining the edge of his brow, despite the house being relatively chilly due to the cold weather. “Okay, maybe a little bit in a sexy way.”

“Well if you can still joke about it, then it shouldn’t be life-threatening, whatever this is,” you say. Seokjin coughs out a laugh, but even that makes him cringe from the discomfort.

You decide to check the potion he had drank and see what ingredients you had used, as it usually will tell you how to make a reverse for it. When you grab the bottle, it only just hits you that the color of the potion is a little off than you remember. If you remember correctly, verbosity potions are usually a pale yellow color, but this one has a darker and deeper tone. In fact, you could see flecks of red sediment floating around, something that you recognize as wyvern blood.

Hold on… Verbosity potions don’t require wyvern blood. Very few potions require it at all, and the only one you can think of that would need it is none other than—

“Oh fucking shit,” you curse for what feels like the twentieth time in this story. You whip your head to face Seokjin, whose entire upper body seems to be bathed in a deep red flush. He’s panting in earnest now, tongue lolling out as he fights the fever consuming him. Little does he know, it isn’t a regular type of fever that he’ll be able to recover with medicine. You gulp, struggling to find an explanation.

“So, umm…” You laugh hesitantly, rubbing the back of your neck with a wry smile. Seokjin peeks up at you from behind his bangs, some of it plastered to his forehead from sweat. The faraway look in his eyes has disappeared, replaced by an unsettling hunger and darkness that is uncharacteristic for the mischievous hamster shifter. You gulp. “Seokjin, I think I know what you drank and it wasn’t the verbosity potion.”

“What?” he croaks, wincing when he adjusts himself to lean on the kitchen counter. You catch sight of a bulge forming in the front of his pajama shorts, miraculously still unnoticed by Seokjin himself. “Fuck, Y/N. I’m burning up.”

The way he utters your name brings a shiver down your spine, and your familiar notices immediately. His gaze is transfixed on the exposed part of your neck, trailing over your skin until his eyes finally land on your lips. You lick them unconsciously, with Seokjin following the movement.

“Seokjin, I need you to get to bed right now. I don’t know how long this potion is going to last, but I’m gonna need you to—”

“What did you do to me?” Seokjin growls, his grip on the counter tightening to the point that he may have cracked the marble. You know he’s strong despite being a prey shifter, but you didn’t think he’d become this powerful and aggravated. You’re guessing that it might be a side effect from him drinking the potion when he was in his hamster form. He had more or less drunk the dosage required for a regular-sized human, so his smaller body size must have led to a slight overdose. This is all guesswork on your part, but hindsight isn’t going to help you right now.

“I, umm… I think I might have accidentally mislabelled the potion,” you admit reluctantly, feeling meek under his heavy presence. You’ve never felt threatened or intimidated by him before, so this is completely uncharted territory for you. You know deep in your heart that he’d never do anything to hurt you even in his inebriated state, but you would still do well to take all your precautions when approaching him. “I think… I might have given Taehyung the wrong potion, too.”

Seokjin doesn’t respond and just keeps watching you as you fidget in place. You continue, “H-he came over today because he wanted a refill, right? W-well, he actually asked for libido potion. And, so—”

“You gave me horny juice? Is that what’s happening?” Seokjin groans, crossing his legs together when he finally registers the very distinct swelling in his underwear. “Fuck,” he moans, involuntarily humping the air to search for some sort of reprieve.

You scoff, trying to keep your tone as level as possible so as not to alarm him. “What do you mean I gave you horny juice? You’re the one who drank it without permission!” you retort, but the scolding dies on your lips when Seokjin starts to grind against the counter, small gasps leaving his mouth. Your throat goes dry, and you know it’ll only be a few more moments before Seokjin’s limited control will start to slip away.

“Y-Y/N, what do I do?” he whines, giving up on the counter and weakly reaching out for you. “I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t cum right now. I-I need you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you start, your stomach swirling with arousal. His scent is stronger than usual, filling your senses with nothing but caramel, mint, and Seokjin. Even as you’re talking, you feel your resolve chipping away despite your better judgment. “You’re not thinking properly right now, and I don’t wanna take advantage of you—”

“N-no! I want it, no, I want you. I’ve always wanted you,” he pants, taking the two short steps to latch his hands on your waist. You flinch when you feel his large palms touch you, the heat palpable even through your clothes. Even with lust clouding his vision, he is gentle with you, like he’s afraid of hurting you. “I-I know you must think I’m a nuisance, and I’ve done n-nothing but annoy you these past few months, but I… I genuinely care about you a lot, Y/N. W-which is why I was so hurt when I thought you forgot my birthday, but even if you did, I was j-just happy to be living with you. Because I really lo—”

He gasps, unable to finish his thought as he accidentally tightens his grasp on you. He pulls you closer until your bodies are aligned, nuzzling into your neck. His teeth scrape your skin slightly, pulling a loud moan from you. You flush, embarrassed, but you have no time to worry about that when you feel how incredibly hard and solid he is against your stomach.

“P-please, help me? It doesn’t have to mean anything; we can forget about it after but right now, I don’t think I’m going to live past tomorrow unless I have my cock stuffing your pussy right this very moment,” he says in one breath, his hands reaching behind you to squeeze your ass. He inhales deeply, releasing it with a content sigh. “Fuck, I can already smell how wet you are. I just know my cock will stretch it out real good, just like how I always dreamed.”

“You… you dreamt of me like that?” you whisper, shocked. You don’t know why your brain latches onto that piece of information out of all the filthy things he just said, but you have to admit that the thought of him having wet dreams about you turns you on greatly.

“Are you kidding me? Have you seen yourself?” He sounds incredulous, like you’d just said something completely unfathomable to him. “Fuck, do you remember when I got my rut two months ago, and I stayed with Namjoon and Yoongi so that you wouldn’t feel awkward around me? They love to tease me about the number of times I moaned your name every time I came,” he admits. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you even if I tried.”

“Fuck, Seokjinnie,” you whine, your fingers scrambling to hang onto his chest, his back, his neck—anywhere, really. Your legs feel like jelly, afraid that you might stumble from how weak you’ve become from your own arousal. “Why didn’t you say anything before now?”

“I’m sorry I had to confess this way,” he says, caressing your hair with unexpected tenderness. He chuckles quietly, his breath tickling your neck. “But I really mean it, horny juice or not.”

Your heart squeezes inside your chest, not believing your lucky stars for allowing you to meet this wonderful boy in front of you. You can hardly believe your ears; never in your wildest dreams would you ever expect that he would also like you back.

“Seokjin, I also—” you begin, ready to spill your feelings all over the floor, but the moment is broken when Seokjin abruptly lifts you by the ass, his palms squeezing you as he barrels determinedly to his bedroom. You shriek in surprise, clutching onto his neck and holding on for dear life. “What the fuck? Seokjin, put me down!”

“No time for feelings! We can talk after we fuck,” he hoots, bouncing you onto the bed. You grunt from the impact, disoriented by the quick turn of events. Your head is spinning, so you don’t even register Seokjin’s hands peeling off your pants in one smooth motion.

A mixture of the cold air and nerves causes your legs to be littered with goosebumps. Seokjin, ever the attentive familiar, notices and rubs soothing circles all over, the heat inside of you coming back with a vengeance. “Sorry about that, baby,” he coos, massaging you. You shake your head, telling him it’s alright.

You are embarrassed when you feel how your panties stick uncomfortably against your skin, already so painfully aroused as if you had been the one affected by the potion. Your shame melts away when you see how much worse Seokjin is, however, as his nostrils flare with want. 

“I’m glad my nose still works, by the way. I don’t know what I’d do if I missed the opportunity to smell your pretty pussy,” he sighs, situating himself in between your legs. He blows gently against your clothed slit, effectively causing all coherency to leave you for the night.

He watches your reactions slyly, his body heat radiating off of him in waves. For once, he looks more like predator than prey. “I know I said I was desperate to fuck you, but do you mind if I start with an appetizer first? I wanted cake today, but turns out my dessert was here all along…” he trails off, smirking when he catches the steadily growing spot on your underwear. “Oh, baby. I know you’re going to be the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I-I,” you stutter, shuddering with desire. You whimper pathetically as he traces your panties with a fingernail, your stomach clenching with desire. “I didn’t know you could be like this.”

“Like what?” he hums, pulling your panties off to join your discarded pants. He grins at the sight of your glistening core, wetting his lips in anticipation. “God, you’re so pretty. I could just eat you up.”

“Then why don’t you?” you reply, trying to gain some semblance of control. That silly notion is thrown out the window, however, the moment Seokjin licks a fat stripe up your cunt. “Ngnnhh, fuck!”

Seokjin moans in tandem with you, slurping you up like a starved man. “Baby, you’re just as good as I thought. I could cum from eating you out alone.” He takes a deep breath, kissing your core almost chastely. “Fuck, I know I could cum from this alone,” he amends, rubbing his clothed length against the bed sheets.

The velvety wet heat of his tongue on your dripping pussy makes you clench around nothing, ripping a scream out of you when he focuses directly on your clit. He sucks with an obscene grin on his face, holding your hips down when your entire body begins to tremble.

“So sensitive,” Seokjin says, sluggish and gravelly like he’s drunk on your taste. “So fucking sensitive. How are you real, baby?”

“Jinnie, please,” you whine, doing your best to grind on his tongue despite his iron hold on you. “I want more, please.”

Seokjin only chuckles darkly, continuing his vicious pace. “C’mon, use my tongue like you want,” he says, letting go of you and allowing you to hump his mouth with reckless abandon.

You do as he says, swirling your hips against him with reckless abandon. The heat in your abdomen steadily builds, and you know you’re only seconds away from tipping over. “I’m close, Seokjin,” you huff, chasing your high. “Please, let me cum? Can I cum, Seokjinnie?”

He nods his head, unable to respond verbally as you continue to assault his tongue. After three more licks, you release with a silent scream, writhing violently from the strength of it. 

He gives your clit one last sweet peck, sitting up with a feral grin on his face. His chin is dripping with your arousal, his plump lips redder than usual. He makes a show of licking your juices around his mouth, chuckling when all you can do is swallow wantonly.

“Thank you for the meal, baby,” he teases, his lust-riddled gaze slightly clearer now that he’s had a proper taste of you. However, the glaring tent in his shorts is still painfully present, a small darkened patch visible on his crotch.

“Wan’ your cock,” you slur, boneless and blissed out but still filled with the longing for more. “Fill my cunnie until I can’t walk anymore,” you croak, pussy twitching for extra measure. Seokjin’s expression twists, his pupils widening until his eyes are pitch black.

Seokjin doesn’t waste any more time. He rips his shorts off in record time, stripping himself of his shirt as well. You remove your own shirt and bra, causing your nipples to harden from the cold air. You tweak them as you wait for Seokjin to get himself situated, hungrily appreciating his beautiful torso and god-like shoulders. “Don’t use a condom, Jinnie. I want to feel all of you,” you say when he begins to reach inside his dresser. You can physically feel his unhinged desire growing from your words, your pussy dripping in anticipation.

“Gonna fill your pretty pussy, huh? Fill you until you have my babies?” he rasps, positioning his cock in front of you. “Gonna plug you up with my cum, Y/N? Is that what you want?”

You cant your hips upward, whining when his tip only just grazes your lips teasingly. “Fuck me already,” you beg. “Want you to ruin me.”

“Who am I to deny you? Ask and you shall receive,” he grins, before slowly pushing inside. Your jaw drops at the intrusion, as it’s been a while since you’ve last gotten fucked like this. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Almost like your pussy is sucking me in,” he groans, straining to keep himself from thrusting all the way into you. “Like you’re made for me.”

“You can m-move faster. I can take it,” you whisper, eyebrows pulling together. You sound desperate to your own ears, the pain and pleasure mixing deliciously and making your cunt weep with want. 

There is a moment of hesitation on Seokjin’s part, but that all drains away when he sees your determination. Without another warning, he shoves himself up to the hilt, causing you to arch your back with a loud cry.

“Fuck,” he curses, but there is still worry in his eyes. “Baby, are okay? Are you good?”

It takes you a moment to remember how to speak. “C’mon, Seokjin. Move. I can take it,” you beg. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he moans, but nods his head anyway.

Seokjin pulls back until only his tip remains inside you before slamming back harshly, hard enough that you’re sliding backward. He begins his brutal pace, his dick stretching you out nicely like he promised. You let out tiny squeaks with every pump of cock, hitting you perfectly in the spot that makes you see stars.

“Kiss me?” you gasp out in between moans, pulling him by the hair until you’re kissing him sloppily. It’s more teeth than anything, as Seokjin grunts into your mouth with every tug of his roots. You bite his bottom lip after a particularly rough thrust, but it only encourages him to pick up the pace.

You wrap your legs around his torso, pulling him as close as humanly possible. You can already feel your second orgasm approaching rapidly, your toes curling in anticipation.

“Seokjinnie, I’m gonna cum soon. Please, I can’t hold it—”

“I’m close too,” he says hotly in your ear. He sucks a bruise into your neck, moaning when he feels your pussy tighten in response. He drills into your cunt faster, the rhythm of his thrusts growing sloppy as he reaches his own release. He reaches down between the two of you, rubbing circles into your clit. “Fuck, baby. Cum with me?”

You sob his name, your muscles contracting as your body lights up with intense pleasure. Your back arches off the bed, your walls milking Seokjin dry until thick white ropes of cum start leaking in rivulets down your sopping cunt and all over your thighs. You can feel his throbbing length inside you as continuous streams of hot seed keep flowing from him, filling you to the brim.

Seokjin slowly comes to a complete halt, but he still hasn’t pulled out. “I’m gonna keep my cum in you for a moment, okay? Don’t wanna waste any of it, right?”

You can only nod tiredly in agreement, completely tuckered out. Your chest heaves from your laboured breathing, but the smile on your face can only be described as content. “Wow. Color me surprised. Didn’t think you’d wanna be a father so early,” you say hoarsely.

Now sated, Seokjin’s demeanor returns to its normal state, his aura less crazed than before. He has the decency to look embarrassed, but the twinkle in his eyes shows that he doesn’t regret it in the slightest. “I’d be more than happy to be the father of your children. We’re already going to live with each other forever, so I might as well raise your children anyway.”

“Might as well?” you laugh, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. “You make it sound like it’s your obligation. And who said I’d live with you forever?”

“Well, I mean, who else is going to love you the way that I do?” he murmurs, nuzzling your noses together. “Who else would be your annoyingly handsome hamster familiar?”

“Quite,” you grumble, allowing him to maneuver you into a more comfortable cuddling position. You kiss him properly this time, enjoying the sweet, warm pleasure of his affection. You’ve never felt so happy in your life. “Happy birthday, Seokjin. I’m sorry this isn’t the way I planned for it to go, but I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Agreed. It’s just like us, huh?” he snorts. He cushions your face against his chest, carding his fingers tenderly through your hair. “Say… Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me, what does your pink hair actually mean?”

You chuckle, snuggling deeper into his comforting scent. You feel yourself slipping into slumber, eyelids threatening to fall. You’ve always loved cuddling Seokjin, after all. But most of all... 

I love you, of course. “I think you already know, genius.”

Even when the sun finishes its descent from the sky and darkness fills the room, the bright pink of your hair glows—unfaltering.

[aspiringharlot]

y/n takes takes care of bratty, sub, shiggy.

Ok! Eeeee! I did it! First y/n and first BNHA story done! This one is about a bratty sub Shiggy! There are some points where it’s clear I wasn’t sure what a bratty sub Shigaraki would say but hopefully overtime as I become more familiar with the characters that will change! I think I did this one pretty quickly so, forgive me, there are probably a few mistakes in terms of tense and grammar that I didn’t catch. Another little thing, this story ended up a lot fluffier/mild than I thought I was capable of and I even ended up dropping an L-bomb!

(Story Includes, mention of injury and bullet wounds, bondage elements, brat elements, l-bomb, sneak peek of little spoon Shiggy and of course, sex )

(minors please do not interact)

(tagging @palbabor-writes and @kugutsuu cause they seemed interested, p.s. don’t worry @palbabor-writes public sex and degradation Hawks is up next!)

EDIT: adding @tod0oki to the tags, happy to have you!

Enjoy!

It was hard work, keeping Tomura Shigaraki in line. Sure, you allowed him control on most days, heaven knows he needed to feel some sense of control in his life, but really there was no doubt, at the end of the day, you made the decisions in the relationship. That never stopped your Shiggy from being a brat though.

Today was just as bad as any other day wrangling your lover, only this time with the added difficulty of having to literally prevent Shigaraki from moving as he pleased. Hesitant as you were to admit it, you did not possess the brute strength required for the task. Instead you relied on a sly trick. Tying him up in bondage gear which was typically used on you.

When he was finally secured, Shigaraki whined, pulling at the restraints. Around his narrow wrists were sturdy leather straps, fitted tightly and anchored to the metal bed posts in order to restrict his movements. Your lover was red faced, lying down on his bed, dirty sheets bunched around his sweating form.

‘I should change those out soon,’ you thought before returning your attention to Tomura.

“oh, Tomura, come on… if you refuse to rest Kurogiri and I are just going to keep you tied up longer.” You lowered yourself to sit beside him on the full-sized bed, moving your hand to his head and smoothing his hair down.

Shigaraki grunted, shaking his head out of your hand in defiance. You scowled down at him.

“You know, for a man who’s been shot four times you have far too much energy.” Swiftly you stood up, dusting crumbs of food from your jeans. You really should change those sheets out… If you wait much longer there’ll be an ecosystem thriving in the cotton threads. Meh, you’ll work on it later when Shigaraki is asleep and infinitely more manageable.

Come to think of it, you should change his bandages soon. Kurogiri or the others weren’t around to do it this time, meaning you’d have to tame the beast all by yourself.

“ts.” You clicked your tongue. “I’ll be back,”

You exited the room without giving Shigaraki the chance to retort, heading straight for the kitchen cabinet responsible for holding the everyday vitamin and mineral supplements you’d feed Shigaraki. Now, however, you rummaged past the gummy vitamins, searching for a bottle of Nyquil. Upon its acquisition you turned back on your heel making your way to the bedroom your lover was restrained in. You stopped in the bathroom on your way back, collecting a pair of cosmetic scissors and gauze amongst other wound supplies. As you balanced all the items in your arms you could hear a distinct clanking noise. The noise of the restrains being tested and fought against.

You came back into the room with a sigh, looking at Tomura with dead and unamused eyes. He was fruitlessly trying to decay the leather wrapped around him, his own wrist disallowing the angle to make such a thing possible.

“Could you just, I don’t know… cooperate? Maybe, allow yourself some time to heal so you get better faster?” The eye contact you made with Shigaraki was aggressive. Testy. He smiled, curling his upper lip into a sneer.

“Make me.” He taunted.

You could see the thoughts behind his eyes. His exact line of thinking. ‘What’s y/n gonna do? Put me in time out? Make me stay in here an extra hour so I think about what I’ve done?’

In frustration you made a low noise in the back of your throat- the past two days have been utter hell. First the League’s failure at that dumb hero thing and more importantly, the four bullet wounds permeating your lover. Then there was the 12 hours you spent waiting for an underground doctor to come and dig the lead out of Shigaraki’s skin. That was 12 hours of relentless worry you had to deal with! And now, for the past day and a half you’ve had to deal with Tomura’s mood swings.

Now, it wasn’t that you didn’t understand. You were aware of the crushing feeling of personal failure which came with a train wreck you conducted. Still, you were willing to wait on Shiggy hand and foot, your only request that he allow you to take control and make him better.

But he just had to keep fighting you. Making you take drastic measures.

Your attention is caught up by the straps holding Shigaraki down, reminding you of the nights he would fuck you hard and rough, making you gasp in unrelenting pleasure. When he was done, you’d always be like putty in his hands, laying there blissfully exhausted and compliant. You curl your lips into a grinch-like smile. Of course. There was your ticket to Shigaraki’s submission.

You just have to fuck the fight out of him.

“Okay.” You finally said, nodding your head nonchalantly. “Okay. I’ll make you.” Calmly you set the supplies you gathered on the dresser top across from the bed, keeping only the scissors in your hand.

Coming up to the side of the bed you gave the scissors a few experimental snips, the metal making a distinct phip sound.

Shigaraki pressed himself back into the mattress, raising a scarred eyebrow up when you traced the scissor across the gray cotton t shirt. That single eyebrow multiplied into two as you took the scissors to begin cutting through his shirt.

Shigaraki started to squirm as he felt the cool, stale air of his room settle on his skin.

“What are you-“ you paused your delicate snipping to roughly grab the bottom half of his face in your hand, squeezing him to make his mouth fall open and halt his speaking.

“I’m making you cooperate…” You roughly released his face.

Ignoring his continued struggling, you went back to cutting his shirt open, until you were able to peel it off his body- the sweatpants he wore were next though you were hesitant to cut them. They were a grey pair which hung deliciously low on his hips and slid down lower and lower throughout the day. You decided against cutting them, instead shimmying them down to sit close to his shins. His underwear though, that was fair game. You took it off eagerly and drank in the sight of Shigaraki naked before you.

He was pale, still recovering from the blood loss he’d endured only two days prior, and his skin seemed especially swallow- giving off the appearance of fragility. You knew better however- Shigaraki, as weak as he may seem by appearance alone, was a force of nature.

Today you were making your way to the eye of the storm.

“Is getting me naked supposed to make me listen to you?” Tomura asked, his eyes narrowed to cynical slits.

“No… hah.” You let out a breathless laugh. “But this will.”

You were down between his knees in an instant, breathing hot breath over Shiggy’s cock. Before Shigaraki could fully process what you were doing, he’s hard, not that that was unusual, your lover was an easy guy to excite. Still, despite his nudity, he was not expecting this kind of attention, especially after being such a brat.

You were gentle at first, getting his cock used to the stimulation, stroking it languidly, licking at the slit of his cock a few times. You shuddered in satisfaction when you made your way down to his balls and heard him sigh in pleasure at the sensation of your warm tongue lapping at each testicle. Still, you knew better than to think a simple blow job would tame Tomura Shigaraki, successor of All For One.

For now, as you pleased him, he’d act all bashful but, as soon as you exert full control over the pacing of this intimate encounter, he’d start bratting again. When that happens, you’ll just have to take things to eleven.

“Ohh… fuck…” with a jolt, Shiggy thrust his hips up into your soft hand. To him, the pleasure was a most welcome distraction to the sharp aches of the bullet wounds scattered across his body. He’d been playing stoic about the pain for the past two days, but the wounds felt like hot agony for most of the day. He needed this pleasure.

“Your uh, your mouth.” He said, pinching his eyes up in pleasure. “y/n use your mouth on my cock.”

Immediately you ceased all contact with him. His eyes flew open.

“No.” you said with a shrug.  

Shigaraki scrunched up his eyebrows and wiggled his hips childishly, making his cock swing like a metronome. “Yes!”

You firmly locked your hands on his hips, stilling the movement, “No.”

“W- Why? “ he whined. “Why aren’t you rubbing my cock anymore?” his voice pitched up, revealing how badly he wanted to feel your touch.

“Well,” You start. “You haven’t been very cooperative with me. I mean, why should you make all the decisions? Why do you get to dictate both what you do and what I do, Hmm? That doesn’t seem very fair.” Your own voice took on a condescending lilt and you tilted his head up with your finger so you could properly look into his eyes. His pupils were blown wide with lust and along his temple you could faintly see a pulse point pumping blood in time with the throbbing of his erection.

He wanted it. Bad.

“Let me take care of you, just leave everything to me…” you brought yourself down to his level to softly mutter in his ear. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

You didn’t have to wait for his response to know what he was going to say.

“Suck my cock, now.” He growled.

You took a deep breath and pulled your own shirt off over your head, not as you normally would, but as women do in tv and movies, all in one fluid motion. Your jeans were next, as you slid them off your bare legs, your panties joining them on the floor moments later.

With the grace of a swan you climbed over Shigaraki, positioning yourself on your hands and knees as you backed yourself up to his face.

“Oh so now y/n’s gonna be a big, strong, woman and make me- mhfmfmfm!” You grinded your pussy against his face, enjoying the psychological pleasure more than the physical. Grinding your labia against any ole thing wouldn’t really do it for you- but knowing that Tomura could barely breathe around your pussy as it sat right on his face gave you butterflies and made your hole start to gush.

“There you go… Good Boy…” You panted. Finally you pulled yourself away from Tomura’s mouth and flipped around, now straddling him cowgirl. In seconds, your hand wrapped around his member and positioned it to slide right in your hole. You sat down and took in the shocked, but pleasure-ridden face of Tomura.

You started to grind your hips down and bounce experimentally. In the past, the two of you have refrained from cowgirl, Shigaraki always wanting to hold full control over the action of fucking your pussy. As he laid back and felt his toes start to curl and twitch in pleasure he wondered if he was an idiot.

“See, Tomura~” you cooed as you leaned down, dangling your clothed breasts in his face. “Wasn’t my course of action so much better? Now you get to feel my wet pussy against your cock, isn’t that so much better?”

At a loss for words Shigaraki nodded his head frantically. He was already close. You smiled.

“So does that mean you’re gonna listen to me? Cooperate and do what I say?” that particular phrasing removed him from his headspace of ecstatic compliance.

“Nuh- No!” he choked out as you bounce faster and harder. Shigaraki started gasping and clenching his eyes shut, trying to block out the pleasure to last longer.

“Yes~ you’re gonna give in to me, Tomu-”

“Nu- oh fuck!”  he shook his head before tensing up, his whole body becoming stiff underneath you as you felt three hot spurts of cum fill your pussy. You chuckled, you didn’t even have to clench down on his cock to make him come, just the sensation of you bouncing on his cock was enough.

You stilled yourself as he laid under you, gauging his reaction to the orgasm.

He was flushed, and still panting heavily, meaning he came pretty hard. You clench down as his sensitive cock remains in your pussy and giggled when he let out a high pitched keen.

“So, are you gonna be good now? Are you gonna stay in bed for me?” Shigaraki blinked heavily, coming back to himself.

“You’re never…hah… going to get me to…hah… cooperate… hah…” His eyes fluttered shut despite themselves. You bit your lip. It couldn’t be helped. You were gonna have to keep riding him.

Just as Shigaraki’s breath started to even out you rose off of him, only to sink back down at full force. Shigaraki was taken out of his cool down by both the pain coming from the irritation of his bullet wounds and the pleasure of his cock being stimulated.

“Whuu? No, no it’s too sensitive!” he cried out. You said nothing, grinding down into him, fucking him like an animal.

As you continued fucking him Shigaraki trembled beneath you, whimpering in unrestrained pleasure, pulling against the leather cuffs which restricted his free reign. The noises he made were downright sinful, varieties of “ah, ah, ah”’s  and “oh fuck, fuck, fuck!”’s being commonly repeated noises.

You gazed down at his face- his eyes rolling around in his skull, frequently fluttering shut only to shoot open when you switched up the rhythm you used. His skin was flushed to hell and back- making him look obscenely cute as he whined out in pleasure, mouth open, drool dripping from the corners of his lips. As you continued looking, you had an epiphany. You loved Tomura. You loved, loved Tomura. You want him to get better and you want to see him let go like this every day.

In the moment you say it.

“I love you.”

Shigaraki flooded your pussy with more cum- gasping loudly as he rode out his orgasm. There’s no way he heard your little confession. And you were okay with that. It’d probably be better to reveal that when he’s not confined to his bed.

You pulled yourself off his cock and felt cum drip down from your thighs. You yourself haven’t cum, but you have accomplished your goal. One look at Shiggy told you that he was too blissed out to fight against your care. Your hand went to rest on his cheek.

“You’re going to be good, yeah? Let me do what I need to do?” you stroked the patch of dry skin under your fingertips.

Shiggy sleepily nodded. Looks like you wouldn’t be need the Nyquil.

Shigaraki laid still as you moved to tend to his wounds- tenderly cleaning them and re bandaging the sore holes. His joints would be sore as well. You decided to uncuff Shigaraki and maneuver his funky gloves on his hands.

When you’re done you pulled your lover’s sweatpants back up and crawl into bed behind him, For tonight you decided against changing the sheets. Instead you got comfortable in the well-used sheets, repositioning Shiggy so he could be your little spoon. You took a deep breath and smelled his hair. It was a little ew, but you didn’t mind. Just as you thought about your revelation, you heard a soft sigh.  

You smiled and cuddled closer, whispering those three words.

“I love you.”

And though you couldn’t see it, Tomura Shigaraki’s eyes widened from their slitted state for just a moment before a soft yet excited smile graced his features.  Slowly, his eyes slid shut again as he relaxed into your arms.

[drwcn]

Hello~ may i ask you something about Chinese culture? i'm a white person and i know that wearing traditional clothes from other cultures (for example as a street wear) simply because it's beautiful is disrespectful because it's also a form of cultural appropriation. A few months ago one of my friends and i were talking and exchanging facts about our cultures and lifestyles and i made a comment about how stunning some hanfu she showed me were and her first reaction was " oh you like it? what's your favorite color i can buy you that one! " and she was quite gleeful and seemed to be unaware of the ethical problem behind me wearing these clothes.. i kindly refused but it's been puzzling me for some time now and so I'd like to know a bit more about it so i can maybe educate myself on this matter and explain my position better next time such as why I can't wear these clothes. i'm really sorry to drop this important and not so simple ask on you but i actually don't know anyone else i could ask, also know that you don't need to answer this if you're uncomfortable or anything tho! it's such a long text omg again sorry for taking up so much of your time aldhsks i hope your day will be great 💝

Hi friend! 

From where I stand if you want one, you should get one, especially if your friend is willing to help you pick a nice one. :) 

Here’s the thing about culture appropriation - everyone has a different opinion on it, so even if I say something, another Chinese person can disagree and that’s valid. 

I have a feeling, just a feeing, that if you go to China and buy a hanfu and put it on and walk around in it, most Chinese people aren’t gonna come up to you and say hey! this is cultural appropriation! In fact they might ask to take pictures with you.

That’s gonna be different if you did the same thing in New York, or Montreal, or Sydney, or London. 

I’m not a sociologist or anthropologist or political scientist, but I am a young person who has a lot of incongruous feelings towards cultural appropriation. There are obvious answers. Any action whereby an item/accessory from a certain culture is used in a mocking or offensive way, or is used as a costume or a gimmick, is of course entirely inappropriate. This is the obvious answer. But, the question that is often asked, and the exactly thing you are getting, is: what if I’m not intending to be offensive? What if I just like it? What if I want to honour it and support it? 

And the answer to that is complicated. 

I am a CN diaspora, and from what I’m seen and experienced, the term “cultural appropriate” comes from a place of fear and feeling of threat. For countries like the US where the population is very diverse and there’s a pressure to assimilate and fit in, there used to be a time when immigrants felt they had to do everything in their power to be more integrated into the new community they landed in and that meant turning their backs on the culture that they’ve left behind. 

The movement we see more and more nowadays is the reclaiming of some of that lost culture and the embracing of every aspect of one’s identity. However, the part of us that’s not quite “white enough”, that we’re just starting to build up the courage to be proud of, is still so tender, so raw, so vulnerable to any kind of assault from outside forces. The fear that we used to feel, the fear of being completely ourselves, it never truly goes away. It’s in the memory of being embarrassed to bring cultural food to lunch at school and wishing your mom could just pack you pizza. It’s the awkward moments when you can’t wear the shorts you want like the other girls in your class because your immigrant mother/father says it’s not appropriate. It’s loving a wuxia story and having no one to share it with because all your friends are non-cn and you’re 14 and everything is embarrassing. Imagine carrying that your entire life, that heavy mixture of shame and fear, and waking up one day and suddenly some pop artist is using aspects of your culture in their music video. Just for the aesthetics. And for that they’re getting millions of hits on youtube and making a fuckton of money. 

The very thing that had caused you so much grief, so much mockery and stress, is being used and monetized. How could you be okay with it? Especially when commercialization often comes with sexualization and objectification as well.  Now what if it’s not some famous person, what if it’s just a random citizen who wants to put on a kimono or a hanfu? Is that okay? Then it really depends on who you’re asking and what their relationship is with their cultural identity. Personally, I don’t really care because the community that I grew up in was very accepting of my culture. I never experienced as much cultural threat as other cn disasporas in other communities. So, like your friend who is CN (I’m assuming), I don’t feel as though my own identity is being infringed upon if you were to wear hanfu. In fact, I would take it as you being interested in my culture.  But imagine someone who comes from a community where they weren’t allowed to freely express their unique cultural idiosyncracies, where they felt much more pressured to assimilate and fit in. I would think that you wearing hanfu would be absolutely seen as cultural appropriation in that case. Because the bottom line is, if they wore hanfu in their community, they would’ve probably been mocked for it, and so a person who is non-cn wearing hanfu just for fun, cheapens the struggles and the pain that they must’ve experienced ongoingly in their life. In simple words: imagine an unpopular kid at school had a mole on their face, a mole which earned them constant mockery from the popular kids. One day, however, one of the popular kids decided having a mole is “cool” and “sexy”, and drew one on their face and began sporting it around. Suddenly everyone is doing it. That kid with the mole is probably thinking having a mole is my thing, it’s part of who I am, I can’t change it, and you made my life hell because of it. Now, not only are you being a complete hypocrite, you’re also taking away a part of my identity. You’re removing the mole from it’s origin, from its context, and you’re drawing it on your face just because you like the look of it. 

There’s a reason why Chinese people from China don’t care if you go to and buy all the hanfu you want. A) it’s generating business, but more importantly B) Chinese people in China are secure in their cultural identity. Being Chinese is their every day life, it’s their norm, their background, their default. By you wishing to try Chinese clothes, eating Chinese food, to them you’re simply going with the flow of their society. Diasporas on the other hand have a completely different relationship with our culture. We’ve had to fight to carve out a space that’s just for ourselves, and no diaspora’s experience is going to be the same as another. Therefore, our relationship with our culture, and with the term “cultural appropriation” is going to be very different. 

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE ;; Shuu Route ー Chapter 4

Monologue

Afterwardsーー

We were genuinely gifted,

many props to decorate the party venue,

by Aji-san,

who had been deeply moved by the Ghost Flower.

We were also able to get information from the gondolier

on how to set up the gondola

to resemble the way it looked when Riegel-san and his wife met,

in an attempt to please him,

as much as possible.

And then...

ー The scene starts at the Rubin Canal

Yui: ( Phew...I guess we’re about halfway done with the decorations. )

Shuu-san, what do you think...?

Shuu: Looks fine to me. Not bad.

ー The gondolier runs up to them

Gondolier B: Ooh, what a surprise! These decorations are identical to those from the past. For a second, I thought I had gone back in time...

ーー Oh. Whoops, silly me.

The owner of the sweets shop came to the docks. He’s looking for you two.

Yui: Yes!

ー The scene shifts to the docks

Sweets shop owner: ーー Aah! There you are!

Yui: Good evening.

Sweets shop owner: Save those formalities for later! More importantly, take a look at this!

Here’s your order.

*Thud*

Yui: Waah! Looks delicious...!

Sweets shop owner: I think it turned out excellent, if I may say so myself. Will this do?

Yui: Of course! Thank you so much!

Sweets shop owner: Aah, I’m glad!

I should probably head back to my shop then.

Aah, so busy, so busy!

ー The sweets shop owner leaves

Shuu: ...His lack of composure is a huge flaw, but I can’t deny his skill.

Yui: ( I’m sure Riegel-san will be pleased with this as well, right? )

ーー Well then, we should probably make a quick stop at the hotel then. We have to get ready as well.

ー The scene shifts to the main street

Yui: ( Okay, everything is going smoothly so far...! )

( Ah...But there’s one more thing to do before we return to the hotel... )

Shuu-san. Is there a shop where we could borrow some clothes around here?

It’s a party, so I figured I should probably prepare a dress.

Shuu: ...Hmm.

This way then.

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the hotel room

Yui: ( I guess most of the preparations are done... )

Shuu: The Familiars will arrange a picture of Riegel-san’s wife to put inside the pendant.

They should bring it to us before the party starts.

Yui: Thank you very much.

I guess we should start getting ready too then.

You can go ahead and take a bath first. I’ll go through the list one more time to confirm we’ve got everything.

Shuu: Nn...

ー Shuu leaves for the bathroom

Yui: ( Okay... )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( ...Yeah. There’s nothing we overlooked. )

( Now we just have to wait for the party to start. )

( I hope Riegel-san will like it... )

*Flap flap flap*

Yui: Ah...

( It’s one of Shuu-san’s Familiars. They’re holding the photograph... )

*Flap flap flap*

Yui: Thanks!

*Flip*

Yui: ( So this is Riegel-san’s wife. What a beautiful person with such a lovely smile. )

( That’s a younger Riegel-san standing next to her, right? )

( The two of them really did look happy together. )

( That’s why...I feel sad thinking about how much emotional pain Riegel-san has to go through right now... )

( We have to make this party a success at all costs! )

ー Shuu enters the room

Shuu: Hm...Oh? The Familiar’s back already?

Yui: Yes. They brought this pictuーー

Wah!?

S-Shuu-san, your clothes...

Shuu: I just got out of the bath so what did you expect?

Yui: A-Anyway, hurry up and put something on!

Shuu: Good grief, what are you so flustered about still...?

ー Shuu walks towards the wardrobe

Yui: ( That shocked me...! )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: This is Riegel-san’s wife.

Shuu: Hm...

Yui: I...Seeing them standing next to each other, I thought to myself once more.

I want to make this party a success. I want to lessen his pain even just a little...

I want to do anything within my power.

Shuu: ...Anything, huh?

But haven’t you forgotten how we ended up in this situation in the first place?

It’s not like we were trying to help Riegel from the very beginning.

We approached him in hopes of getting information on the Count and find a way to retrieve your heart.

Yui: That’s...true but...

Even so, I can’t just leave him in the cold...!

Shuu: ...Why not?

ー He steps closer

Yui: ( Shuu-san...? )

Shuu: You’re awfully persistent about helping him out.

Did you fall for him or something?

Yui: ...!? T-That’s not it!

Shuu: I wonder? Then who is it you like?

Yui: W-Well...

ーー You, Shuu-san. You’re the only one I love.

Shuu: Heeh...

Yui: ( Uu, this is kind of embarrassing... )

A-And you...? Who do you like?

Shuu: Go ahead and think about that question a bit. If Iーー

*Thud*

Shuu: Pin you down on the bed like this, I guess the answer should become a little clear?

ーー Nn.

*Smooch*

Yui: Ah...!

Shuu: Once the party starts, you’ll take on the appearance of Riegel’s wife for a while, right?

So keep still and let me have my fun nowーー

Yui: ( ...Shuu-san... )

Monologue

And then,

it was finally time for the party to start.

Together with Shuu-san,

the two of us once again,

headed towards the candy house where Riegel-san lives.

Before knocking on the door,

I put the picture of Riegel-san’s wife,

inside the pendant hanging from my neck.

And voila ーー

Yui: ( ...This feels kind of odd. Like I’m no longer myself. )

Um...How do I look?

Shuu: On the outside, you’re a split image of the woman in the picture. But...

Yui: ( ...? I wonder what’s wrong? )

Shuu: Your little quirks when you’re lost in thought are still the same as usual. You haven’t changed on the inside.

Well then, guess we should get going soon.

Yui: Y-Yes!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the candy house

Shuu: Riegel should be even more wary now of potential humans trying to visit him.

So it’d probably be best if I greet him first.

Yui: I’m counting on you.

Shuu: Yeah...

*Knock knock*

Shuu: Riegel. It’s me.

*Knock knock*

Shuu: I’ve decided to hold a party for you today.

Riegel: ...A party?

Shuu: Yeah, exactly. A party.

Riegel: I’m not taking part in such a thing. Just do as you please without me.

Shuu: ...I don’t mind either way, really.

But there’s a little guest for you.

I’m sure it’s someone you’d kill forーー

*Thud*

Riegel: Aah! Could it be!?

Yui: ( Riegel-san... )

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Wah! H-He embraced me... )

Riegel: Marian! Aah, Marian!!

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( Shuu-san walked away... )

Riegel: I missed you...! I’ve wanted to see you again so badly, Marian! This whole time, ever since that day... 

Yui: W-Wait. I’mーー

Riegel: You finally returned to my side, didn’t you? Aah, I’m so glad...

Yui: ( He totally thinks...I’m his actual wife, doesn’t he? )

ー The scene fades to black

Yui: ( But I’m not. )

( ...Shuu-san knew this would happen, hence why he was so reluctant to using the pendant... )

( Yet, I... )

...Ugh.

ー The scene shifts to the Rubin Canal

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( Shuu-san’s napping in the corner, huh...? )

Riegel: ...Aah...Well if it isn’t the place where we first met!

If I recall correctly...I fell for you at first sight.

Meanwhile you were rather frightened of me at first.

However...After our feelings became mutual, you let me in on your secret, didn’t you?

That back then, it was love at first sight for you as well.

You remember, don’t you? There’s no way you could ever forget.

Yui: ...

Riegel: Fufu...Aah, anyway, this food is amazing.

This cake in particular...It’s delicious.

You should give it a try as well.

Yui: Eh? Sure...

( What should I do? I have to tell him the truth... )

Riegel: What’s wrong? Do you feel sick?

Yui: No...It’s...

There’s something I have to tell you.

I’m sorry. I...I’m not the real Marian.

Riegel: ...

Yui: This pendant around my neck holds a mysterious power, and that’s how...

Riegel: ...

Yui: I’m sorry...

Shuu: ...Good grief...

ー Shuu walks up to them

Yui: ( Shuu-san... )

Riegel: ...

...I don’t mind.

Yui: Eh?

Riegel: I don’t sweat the details.

I knew from the very start. That you were just a fake.

The dead won’t come back to life. I know that much.

...That’s exactly why.

Because I know that death is permanent...

I want to at least...Hold onto you while you look just like my wife.

Forever!

ー Riegel grabs hold of Yui

Yui: Kyaah!

Shuu: Wha...!?

ー The scene shifts to Aizen Alley

Riegel: Haah, haah, haah...!

Yui: R-Riegel-san! Please, let go of my hand...

Riegel: No! If I do that, you’ll leave me! I’m sick and tired of being all alone...!

Yui: ( What on earth should Iーー )

*Woosh*

Yui: Ah...!

( I-I can’t breathe...!? )

*Woosh*

Riegel: O-Oi! What’s wrong!?

*Woosh*

Yui: ( My heart...The Kleinod...It’s at its limit already... )

Shuu: Oi!

ー Shuu runs up to them

Yui: ( Shuu-san... )

Shuu: ...Finally found you. Enough of this vain struggle.

Let go of her.

Riegel: I won’t. I’m not letting go of Marian!

Shuu: Then I’ll force you. She’s mine.

Besides...Her heart won��t last much longer.

I don’t have the time to play along with your elopement act right now.

You know better than anyone how much it hurts to lose the woman you love, don’t you!?

Riegel: ...

Iーー

*Woosh*

Yui: Aah...!

Shuu: Yui!

Riegel: ...Ugh!

Yui: ( I...can’t...no more... )

Monologue

As my eyelids gradually grow heavier,

my body somehow becomes light.

It feels as if I am floating mid-air

Seeping through the darkness,

a light shines upon me.

Somebody is standing at the other side.

I can’t see their face because of the reflection,

but the person I treasure more than anyone,

is holding out their hand towards me.

I want toーー grab hold of it.

I can’t stand being separated,

not even for a single second.

While writhing around in the darkness,

I continued to extend my hand straight forward.

And then...

ー Yui wakes up inside of Riegel’s house

Yui: ( ...Where am I...? )

Shuu: You’re awake...?

Yui: Shuu-san...

Shuu: ...Don’t make me worry too much.

Yui: I’m sorry...

Um...What happened to me afterwards...?

Shuu: Youーー

ー A flashback ensues

Shuu: Hang in there!

Yui: ...

Shuu: Oi, Riegel.

Riegel: W-What...What should I do...!?

Shuu: Riegel! Calm down.

Can you tell me everything you know about this Count?

I’m begging you.

Riegel: Shuu...

...I’m sorry...It’s true that the two of us were close in the past.

But I’m afraid I don’t know much more than that his manor’s security is impregnable.

He would never talk about himself after all...

Shuu: ...Ugh.

Riegel: I’m sorry...I truly am...

Shuu: ...Fuck...I...

Yui: ...Uu...

Shuu: ...!

It’s too early to give up just yet. The Kleinod is still moving!

ー The flashback ends

Shuu: ーー Then we carried you here afterwards. Your condition gradually became more stable after all.

Yui: So that happened...

*Thud*

Riegel: ...

Yui: Riegel-san...

Riegel: ...My bad.

This happened because I lost sight of myself...

Yui: No. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.

Riegel: Oh no...I felt so happy I was able to see Marian again, even for just a split second. From the bottom of my heart...

That’s why I didn’t want to let go of her.

But...Then I realized that was wrong of me.

Because Marian would never approve of hurting someone else like that.

I’m sure she’s scolding me right now in the afterlife.

Besides...

Even if she’s not next to me, she remains within my heart forever. I finally realized that.

Yui: Riegel-san...

Riegel: I’ll help you two out to retrieve your heart.

???: That won’t be necessary.

Shuu: ...!?

Yui: This voice...It can’t be...

Riegel: Walter!

Count Walter: Hello there! It has been a while, hasn’t it? Riegel. And...You as well, young lady.

Yui: Y-You’re...Count Walter!?

Count Walter: The one and only.

Shuu: ...So? Now this is quite the nifty show you’ve put together, approaching us yourself like this.

Not that I care. I guess this saves us a lot of trouble.

I’ll make sure you return her heart at once.

Count Walter: ーー Of course. That is what I came here for after all.

Yui: W-What do you mean?

Count Walter: Fufufu...

ーー You see. I have been watching you to observe your behavior after you lost your heart.

To test whether or not you two are fit to hold onto one of the treasures of this world...That is.

Yui: ( I-I see... )

Count Walter: And the answer became clear just now.

You chose not to abandon this man who had been stricken with grief, but instead tried to bring the light back in his life.

Wonderful!

Thereforeーー

*Ba-dump*

Yui: Ah...!?

*Ba-dump ・ ba-dump*

Shuu: Yui!

Yui: Shuu...san...

( ...Huh...? )

( My body feels light. And warm...? )

Shuu: Are you okay!? Hang in there!

Yui: Ah...I-I’m fine.

If anything...It seems like I’ve got my heart back!

Shuu: ....What on earth...? 

Walter: Fufu...

Well then. I will excuse myself now.

ーー Thank you for the great show.

ー The Count disappears

Monologue

Leaving said words behind,

Count Walter vanished into thin air.

Looking off to the side,

I locked eyes with Shuu-san,

as we somehow both forced a smile.

As for Riegel-san,

he seemed to have completely,

regained his sanity.

After he told us that the least we could do,

was enjoy the remainder of the Parade,

Shuu-san and I,

left the candy house behind us.

ー The scene shifts to Saint Nore Park’s venue

Yui: ( Seems like the Parade hasn’t ended yet! )

( A bunch of things happened, but I’m glad we made it in time... )

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( ...Oh. Maybe I’m the only one getting excited now. I’m sure Shuu-san must be exhausted. )

Um...

Shuu: Nn?

Yui: We’ve been running all over the place, so shall we call it a day and head home?

We can always come to the Parade next yeーー

Yui: ...?

Shuu: Let’s go.

Yui: Eh...?

Shuu: Let’s go to the Parade.

Yui: Are you sure...?

Shuu: What are you saying when you’ve got ‘I want to go!’ written all over your face?

Yui: T-That’s...I would like to go, but...

I’m sure you’re tired, so I want you to be able to get some rest soon...

Shuu: ...Well, I’m pretty much always lacking energy.

I don’t mind making an effort at a time like this.

Yui: ...

Shuu: ...What?

Selection

→ Nothing

Yui: Nothing. Fufu...

Shuu: Look at you talk when you’ve got that grin on your face. Heh...

Yui: ( I’m just so happy, I can’t help it... )

→ Thank him with a kiss (☾)

Yui: Um...Shuu-san?

Shuu: Yeーー

*Smooch*

Shuu: Wha...!?

Yui: You know...To show my gratitude.

( I did it on the spur of the moment, but I’m kind of embarrassed now... )

Shuu: You...Honestly...

Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: ( ...! This time he kissed me... )

Shuu: ーー Come on. Let’s go to the Parade before I change my mind.

ー Shuu walks away

Yui: Ah, w-wait!

( I’m happy he’s so kind to me... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

← RETURN TO CHAPTER 3

→ PROCEED TO NORMAL ENDING

→ PROCEED TO FINALE ENDING

[misswenndy]

THE BEAUTY OF DOMINANCE

Owning a submissive, can be one of the most beautiful things a woman can ever own.  There is so much potential in owning a submissive male.  I say own, within the context of love being the foundation. It’s not a forced ownership, since he wants to be owned, but make no mistake, the true power really does lie in her capable hands. Once a submissive goes down the road of being owned, he feels like he belongs to her. She feels like he is her personal property.  This is a bond between them, that only deepens in time.

It really does get to a point where, a submissive male wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than under her complete control. He trusts and loves her so completely, that he surrenders to her in love. He knows any other way to be in life, pales in comparison compared to being totally devoted to her. He dares not disobey, even if disobedience is easy, or even if, he can get away with it without her noticing. A true submissive, will obey for the sake of obeying her. He will have no second thoughts about it, his ego is completely hers to mold. He has become loyal to her authority, and her as a person.

This is why it’s so incredibly important that she understands her power, and does not use it to abuse him. Because she can, easily, abuse him, and many submissive’s will take that abuse for a while, when they should be standing up and saying no. The fault always lies with the abuser, it is her responsibility, and a submissive, should know, that it’s always okay to stand up and say no, when he feels abused. She needs to respect that for the sake of a healthy relationship. She also needs to respect that for the sake of her loving submissive, and to always have an optimal level of willing submission from him at all times. The sheer level of submission that can come from his is on par with bliss.

Once in control, all trust issues disappear, she never has to worry about what he thinks of her, and most importantly, he is always desiring her. She never has to have body insecurity issues, because his tongue is eager to be used at all times of the day, any time she wants to use it.  Any where she wants to use. For as long as she wants to use it.   This eliminates any kind of guilt she has ever had about sex.  It helps her establish her own sexual desire, and to always please herself when she feels the urge.  It’s total freedom of female sexuality and expression. 

She gets to wear anything she wants, around the house, or out of the house, often, acting single, while keeping her submissive as her owned monogamous pet. She can choose monogamy too, the choice is hers. She understands that he gets no say in her sex life, ever, unless she gives him a say. But, she gets total say in his sex life. He may never even get an erection without her permission. He may never touch his penis ever again without her permission. Or he may be tied down any time the cage comes off, if it comes off. 

His ass is hers to smack, spank, or enjoy with a strap-on, anytime. He gets no say in that either. His body is her amusement park, and the sheer joy that she can have exploring his body, even with just her hands and nails, while he squirms can be a delight few women have ever known. She also gets to dress him however she wants to dress him.  Many women love feminizing a male because it turns him into one of her accessories, in the same way she once played with dolls. It’s incredibly fun to dress a submissive up and put her personal touch on him, and always have him wearing what she wants. He is hers to own, and he will look owned by her. He gets no say in that, except in vanilla situations that may call for a more masculine look. 

But the most interesting part about it, is that vanilla life becomes the play, it is no longer the serious formal identity it used to be, for either of you. You are dominant and submissive, that’s who you really are, and even in the vanilla world, there is that knowing of who owns who. Her ownership of him will always be the forefront of his world, and it will always be her expectation, that he is at her feet on demand, at any time.

The beauty of dominance is that expectation. The expectation that he will endure any and all kinds of sexual tease, that he will give up all sexual rights of his body, and be hers entirely. He accepts her as the authority and as the key to his sex life, and may remain without sexual release for weeks or months or years. His sacrifice is never ignored by her, but accepted with love, and enforced with her power and dominance. She will make sure that he always honors his submission to her by remaining strict. 

The beauty of dominance means she never has a worry, fear or doubt about him ever again. This will cause a huge surge in her own confidence as a woman, if she hasn’t discovered her dominance before. Once she has that confidence, she is geared to live the best life she can possibly live, with her submissive loyally at her side, supportive of her decisions, and always helping her succeed. In return, she is his structure in life, she is the missing piece of the puzzle he has always needed, the purpose he has always longed for. That’s the beauty of dominance.

Teach Him!

One very interesting aspect of a FLR, and in particular, of submissive males, is that they are eager to please. Submissive males want to please, it makes them feel good to give pleasure.  Especially sexual pleasure, but it doesn’t have to be sexual. They will happily clean the bathroom just to be told they’re a good boy, and win approval or brownie points toward a possible release from chastity. However, most submissives males, while eager to please, are quite clueless on how to go about it. They want to please her their way, in any way they know how. A smart submissive understands he must not only be eager to please, but also, eager to learn. 

Lets face it, most males in general, are terrible at eating pussy. If she isn’t on her back shuddering, and grabbing his hair and pulling him closer, moaning while she does it, he’s not doing a good enough job. As his dominant, never be afraid to speak up about it from the get go. Tell him exactly how you want him to improve, tell him what techniques work and also tell him to be creative.  When you don’t know what’s coming, sometimes that can bring very intense orgasms. So a sudden change in tongue pattern, or a finger at the right time can make all the difference in the world.

Remember that his orgasms depend upon the quality of your orgasms, so he has every incentive to please you the right way. Give him lots of opportunities to practice, that’s the beauty of having a submissive in the first place, he’s always ready and eager for you. You can quickly teach him to be an oral expert, even if it was an awkward road to getting there, submissives learn quickly if you’re dedicated to teaching them. Before long all you will have to do is lay back and relax while he goes to town, and that’s how it should be. Your pleasure should always be his only focus, that’s just the nature of the relationship. 

Don’t just stop at oral though, and especially not at just eating pussy. Keep him chaste long enough, and any inhibitions he ever had about eating ass will disappear like they never existed in the first place. Of course, be healthy about it, but not shy!  Teach him how to best perform oral on both areas simultaneously, so that when you’re in the midst of cumming, your back door is being pleasured as well, sending you to new heights of orgasmic bliss. Then you can have him orally service you anywhere, any time you please, and be an expert at it. 

But don’t just stop there, teach him so much more, teach him, how to give you massages, feet, back, sensual, soft, with / without oil... Whatever it is you prefer. With tongue, without tongue. Hands only, or tongue only... You get to customize how  and what he learns. Teach him to pamper you. Teach him what lotions do, moisturizers, and creams. Teach him to shave you, paint your nails, give you a pedicure. Teach him that your femininity is his priority. And don’t let him ever avoid your period, show him everything about it, teach him how to use a tampon, show him the blood. Get him so comfortable with your period that he never shys away when you talk about it. So that, he can provide you emotional and physical support when you tell him you’re on it. Even to the point where, he knows your cycle as good as you do, and anticipates the little things before it even starts. Teach him everything about you, he’s your submissive, you are his priority, so don’t ever let him get away with slacking off, or avoiding one thing but not another. Teach him so much, that, he is your rock, your confidant, your safe haven, your support, your security, your trust, and your love. Then be all those things for him, because you value his submission to you, and cherish the gift that it is.

The Strap On

One of the biggest kinks in a FLR is the strap on. There are many reasons why they’re so common and popular. They benefit both partners equally in different ways making it the perfect sex toy to have in your kinky collection.  However it goes beyond simply being a sex toy, as a strap on can have huge psychological effects as well as physical.  It can really enhance the D/s dynamic because its the perfect tool for role reversal. 

When a strap on is combined with chastity, some real magic can happen between partners.  The longer he is chaste, the more likely he is to crave some sort of anal play, as his prostate gets bigger and more sensitive, craving any kind of stimulation. Even if he doesn’t crave anal play, it is actually healthy for him to have the prostate stimulated, during long lock ups, so it’s for his own good anyway!  This is why a strap on can be so much fun.  He either craves it, or it is humiliating to him, or both!  

This is perfect for a domme as well, as she gets to discover the power of having a penis between her legs, and his moans of pleasure or discomfort, as she begins to thrust into him. This alone, can be an extremely high level of power exchange and very erotic for her. She can take him with her strap on until he is whimpering horny and deep in sub space. There are no concerns about him cumming from the strap on, because this generally requires a lot of time and concentrated effort and technique to achieve. It is possible, if that is what she wants, but she has full control over that. Leaving him horny, makes for an eager tongue after she is finished taking him with the strap on. A tongue in which, she is equally eager for!

The strap on is much more fun than simply just bending him over, there are many ways in which a strap on can be used, which can make it a symbol of her dominance over him.  Often, a strap on is bigger than his penis, and she can tease him about that, saying her cock is bigger than his, while taking him with it.  Or for even more fun, she could allow him to wear it over his cage, and allow him to have intercourse with her using it. Since its bigger than his own penis, she can tease and say how much better it feels.

She could even go so far as to name her cock, and have her sub respect it, by cleaning it after use. Or sucking it to lube it up. Just looking down into his eyes can give both partners a power exchange rush that creates a strong erotic charge.  She can also make him practice his sucking techniques, if she plans on bringing other males into the relationship at some point. Once she has named her strap on, her submissive will have to worship it in the same way he worships her body, because it’s her cock. The psychological effects this can have, can send him deep into subspace, and she can keep him there. 

The strap on can also come in very handy as a punishment. Sometimes a submissive just needs a good hard strap on session, ordering him to get the strap on, and bend over on command, can be a powerful technique. Taking him with it often, even when he’s not in the mood, will help him adjust his behavior to understand, it’s not his bum, it’s hers. His resistance to it, will soon drop away, and the strap on will become a symbol of her power. 

Perhaps eventually, it may be the only way he is allowed to cum.  This can be common if she likes to feminize him, he can literally become the female in the relationship, and cum from anal only, while still caged. There’s so many possibilities with the strap on, including attachments that can provide her stimulation while using it making it even more fun.  It’s just one more tool in the femdom box, that she can use to completely dominate and own her submissive in all the ways she’s always wanted.  It is all about her, after all.

[petri808]

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Inukag modern AU

For the first few days Kagome was back at the home she’d shared with Inuyasha, it felt a little strange and familiar all mixed up together. Their friends had helped in moving her things back into the house, but Inuyasha had given her the main bedroom and took the spare saying it might help her memories since that’s where she would normally have slept. During the day, he would go to work leaving Kagome time to wander around unencumbered. So, she took the opportunity to look through photo albums, keepsakes, or simply absorbing the feel of the place. Inuyasha had told her that she was the one who’d decorated it, and from what she could see, that all made sense. Perhaps that did help her in feeling a little comfortable and yet still somewhat of a stranger. To dispel those odd energies, Kagome took it upon herself to be useful, cooking dinner or cleaning, even doing his laundry despite him telling her she didn’t have to… Okay that chore did make Kagome blush the first time she came across his underwear, but she reminded herself she was a grown ass woman who may not remember yet but has seen him naked before so it’s not a big deal unless she made it into one.

All the little normal behaviors seemed to really help her memory to improve rapidly. Several times a day, Kagome would be doing something in the home and flashbacks would hit her. Mostly good ones or embarrassing things that must have made an impact. For instance, finding a bottle of wine in the cupboard and remembering a night she got so drunk Inuyasha had to carry her to bed. Or another, while moving a chair in the living room she remembered a friskier romp and later finding her bra under the couch the next time she cleaned. She was so happy it hadn’t been discovered by a guest or something because Sango probably would have teased her mercilessly.

But with all the memories coming back quicker, and her sense of comfort increasing, so too did a feeling of loneliness. At night, as Kagome laid in bed things felt less foreign and emptier, like something was missing. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that missing element was Inuyasha. This was their bed— their sharedbed, so it made sense that it wasn’t the same without him there. Kagome still felt nervous about it, but after three days of feeling that way and not getting a lot of sleep because of it, she’d asked him to move back into the room with her. Of course, even he was hesitant to do so, but she assured him it’ll be okay. She was certain he wouldn’t try to take advantage or anything. Even when after two days of this sleeping arrangement, she’d woken up to his arm casually around her, Kagome found she didn’t mind it at all… thankfully for his frantic relief.

Inuyasha popped his head into the bedroom. “Ready to go?” They had plans to go out for dinner that night to a favorite restaurant.

“Mmhmm,” Kagome replied as she did a quick check of her skirt and grabbed her purse.

The evening was an especially cherished one for two reasons. First, it was their sixth anniversary and second, but most importantly, Kagome was the one who’d remembered it. Three days earlier while going through her jewelry box, she’d picked up her promise ring and the memory of that event hit her like a ton of bricks. Before that moment the ring had just been another ring, but now, it was the latest trigger of a deluge of memories. So strong it was, that it had sent Inuyasha into quite a panic when he’d come home that day from work to find Kagome teary-eyed, but they’d been happy tears very much worth celebrating.

Things had been going so well, that Kagome almost felt back to normal. She was remembering more and more, her home felt like a home, and the hatchet was now buried between she and Inuyasha after they’d agreed to be honest about anything that was bothering them from now on. They talked out the bad and laughed through the good memories as they broke through. That day of coming clean had truly become a turning point for the couple and despite this whole situation starting off horribly, perhaps it will become the reason their relationship could last forever.

The restaurant was crowded that Saturday evening, as it was most days because of its popularity. Kagome and Inuyasha often chose it for special occasions due to the excellent food and service, as well as the reasonable prices. Dinner and dessert, with a glass of wine…

Kagome smiled at her husband from across the table. “You know what would be a nice way to end tonight? Taking a stroll in the park. The moon is really pretty.”

Inuyasha reached over the table and took her hand, smoothing his thumb gently over the skin. “That sounds like a perfect idea,” he smiled back. “Let me just go to the restroom first and we can check out of here.”

“Okay,” Kagome squeezed his hand back. “I’ll call the waiter for the check.”

He leaned down and kissed her hand, before standing up and walking away towards the restroom area, leaving Kagome at the table to watch for their waiter. She looked down and smiled as she rubbed her hand in the spot Inuyasha had kissed. It was silly, she knew, to feel the butterfly sensations over such a small yet sweet gesture, but it was fun to feel so in love again. To feel her skin, heat up when he kissed her or held her hand. The rush of excitement when he’d begun pulling her close at night… Kagome felt a blush blooming on her cheeks just thinking about the intimate moment they’d shared just a couple days ago. She’d finally felt comfortable enough to allow it, or rather had reached the point when her body could no longer resist the urge… and it was so much more than she could have ever hoped for. Inuyasha’s effects on her loins we’re simply supernatural.

A loud tap on the table suddenly jolted Kagome out of her thoughts, and her head shot up to see who was trying to gain her attention. She assumed it might be the waiter because she’d been so lost in thought, but oh… was she wrong!

Kagome’s eye’s flashed wide in a panic. “K-Kikyo?!”

The woman grabbed Kagome hard by the shoulder, digging her nails into the skin, her words seething in a controlled anger. “Get up. Don’t say a word and do exactly what I say if you don’t wanna get hurt.”

“No!” Kagome tried to shake the woman off, hitting at her hand as hard as she could. “Why can’t you leave me alone!” Her screams drew the attention of everyone around them, and the dining room instantly went silent. Her eyes searched frantically for an employee or Inuyasha, but all it found was the staff frozen in place unsure of what to do. “Somebody call the police!” She screamed.

But Kikyo was in too much of a blind rage to stop, knowing she only had seconds before Inuyasha or someone else might step in. So, she grabbed Kagome by the hair and twisted, yanking her with enough force to pull the screaming woman out of her seat or risk getting her hair pulled clean out. “You don’t deserve him!” Kikyo berated. “Why didn’t you just die that night! Why couldn’t you take the hint and just stay the fuck away, you stupid bitch!”

“Stop it! Stop it! You’re hurting me! Inuyasha! INUYASHA!” Kagome fought desperately to free herself, but every time she tried, Kikyo would twist and yank harder. “Help me!!”

A couple of male patrons sitting nearby, finally stood up to intervene, but that’s when Kikyo pulled a knife out of her pocket and held it to Kagome’s throat. “Try anything and I will cut her,” she spat at the men.

“Ma’am,” a manager stepped forward as well with his hands up as a show of neutrality. “Please put the knife down and let her go. The police are already on their way. You don’t want to do anything rash.”

“Please…” Kagome was sobbing from all the pain. She could feel the cool steel of the knife against her skin. “Please let me go, Kikyo. This has gone too far!” ‘And where was Inuyasha??’ Her mind begged. Surely, he would have heard the commotion by now or had his behavior all been a ruse? What if he’d planned this with Kikyo to get back at her? Kagome’s heart said no, but her mind was such a mess it didn’t know what to think anymore. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, wishing this would all just end… “Inu…”

“Ahhhh!”

The loud guttural scream of a mad woman made Kagome flinch. Was this the end? Her body tensed up expecting to feel the blade slicing into her throat as the woman finished what she’d come there to do… but instead her body just dropped to the floor with a thud. She was— free?! Kagome’s eyes popped open, and as she lay there crumpled on the floor, could only watch in horror and shock for above her Inuyasha had Kikyo’s wrists in a solid lock. She instantly recognized his demon form too, the red eyes and purple stripes along his cheeks. The hanyo was furious!

The manager and another patron quickly pulled Kagome away from the struggle and out of harm’s way. Kikyo was screaming and kicking, fighting against Inuyasha’s restraint but he was too strong. One of the other male diners managed to get the knife safely out of Kikyo’s hand, at which time Inuyasha was able to adjust his grip on the woman and yanked her hands behind her back, keeping her from getting away without breaking her arms.

“It’s been over you jealous, heartless dark bitch! Get it through your head!” Inuyasha roared. “There is something wrong with you! Kagome is gonna be my wife and you’ll never compare to the light she’s brought to my life!!”

“She doesn’t deserve you!” Kikyo screamed. “You should be mine! Not hers, mine!”

“It’s I who doesn’t deserve her, not the other way around you dumb bitch,” Inuyasha growled back. “But you don’t deserve me either!” He tightened his hold around her wrists, purposely digging his claws in to drive his point home as he growled low enough so only Kikyo could hear him. “You ever— EVER come around again, I’ll make you disappear.”

The cops arrived quickly enough to take over and immediately started their investigation. With a room full of witnesses to interview, it would be an easy case to make, just a lot of evidence to process. Kagome had been whisked away by the manager into a back office, away from all the activity so that medical personnel could evaluate and treat her injuries and simply give the poor woman peace to collect herself. Inuyasha was allowed to stay with her, holding her hand while the EMT’s did their job.

“I’m so sorry this happened,” Inuyasha apologized. “I shouldn’t have left you alone at the table.”

“You couldn’t have known she’d attack me,” Kagome tried to reassure him that she didn’t blame him. By that point, she’d already learned how Inuyasha had snuck up from behind while Kikyo was distracted by the manager, and that’s how he was able to detain her so quickly.

“It’s still my fault she was in our lives to begin with.”

“Inu,” she sighed, “we can’t change the past, only the future.”

Once the medical team cleared Kagome with just some minor abrasions to her head and hands, a police detective stepped in and separated she and Inuyasha for their interviews. She did her best to recount everything that happened but talking about it also brought back all the emotions with it. Tears gathered in her eyes, and her head throbbed, almost as if re-living the fear of almost being killed. The adrenaline had finally worn down and her heart had stopped racing. Kagome hadn’t thought about it until that moment, but even though everything had transpired so suddenly, it had taken an enormous physical toll on her body and all it wanted to do now was sleep. At the same time, her mind hadn’t stopped working in overdrive, because seeing Kikyo… no, being attacked by the woman triggered an overwhelming flood of memories. It was like a locked door suddenly being flung wide open.

“Are you okay?” Was the first question Inuyasha posed the second he was allowed to return to his girlfriend. His voice carried with it a high level of concern. “Should I get the EMT’s, because you’ve gone pale.”

Kagome nodded as she turned to face him. “I’m okay, it’s just Inuyasha I…” she took hold of his hands in a tight grip. “I remember everything…”

Now it was Inuyasha’s turn to go ashen white. “You… do?”

Tears re-filled her eyes as she continued to nod unconsciously. “Yes… yes… all the things she did to me… all the fights over it… and that night— the accident, I remember everything…” her voice petered out like the ending credits of a movie. “But it’s so weird that… I’m not upset.” Kagome fixed Inuyasha with a confused look. “Shouldn’t I be upset?”

“I-I don’t know,” his voice cracked.

“It almost feels like a relief,” Kagome unconsciously exhaled loudly as if to accentuate how puzzled she felt. “It was such a bad fight… but I just feel relieved to remember it at all.”

“Is that a good thing?” Inuyasha questioned cautiously.

“Yeah— I… You know, it is,” she finally smiled. “I think the nightmare is finally over and that’s why I feel so relieved. But there is one thing I need to ask you about Inu.”

“Of course! Anything.”

“You told Kikyo I’m gonna be your wife.”

Inuyasha’s body stiffened as a smile bloomed on his face along with the coloring on his cheeks. “Oh, yeah that,” he scratched his head nervously, “it just popped out in the heat of the moment.”

“But…” Kagome leaned forward to stop his shaky hands. “Did you mean it?”

“Actually…” Inuyasha reached into his pocket...

**Question for my readers**

What ending would you prefer?

- A regular ending chapter that takes place right after the dinner scene?

- An epilogue of them finally getting married?

* Throw out some ideas in the notes and maybe one (or more) of the ideas) will make it into the final chapter :)

[all-about-remadora]

200 followers!

So here’s a list of One shots for celebrate✨

Everyone Deserves A Someone by LoquaciousLupin

With nothing better to do during the holidays at Grimmauld Place, Hermione and Ginny wonder whether their former Professor has a special someone - with no other ideas, they do the only thing they can and ask him. With a little help from Tonks, Remus answers their questions as honestly... as he can. Remus and Tonks fluff.

A Beautiful Tune by SweetDeamon

I'm...not coming." he said, reaching to shove his hands deep into his pockets. "On the mission. With you." Tonks stared at him in confusion. "Why not?" she asked, grip upon the cloak in her hand going limp. Remus struggled to come up with a convincing lie. "Because I...I..." Because I'm dying. Because you've struck me dead in the heart.

The Unspeakable Girl by SweetDeamon

"She makes me feel so on top of this world that I wish I'd never been born into it in the first place! So I can't stand to talk about her, Dad! I simply can't!" In which Remus Lupin visits his father and confesses something quite extraordinary. Based on information from POTTERMORE. Consider yourselves warned. RLNT.

The Future's Not Ours To See by Gilpin

Remus Lupin has a lot on his mind; his current undertaking for the Order of the Phoenix, and how to obtain questionable potions from an unhelpful Apothecary owner. Can he bring both to a satisfactory conclusion?

Rhapsody in Blue by copperbadg

Remus has decided it's time to cure Tonks of her awkwardness, the only way he knows how.

Kissing It Better by Lady Bracknell

On her first date with Remus, Tonks discovers that spilt beer on wooden floors is the enemy of the less than surefooted everywhere. Will she die of embarrassment, or will Remus find a way to make it all better?

Kiss and tell by Lady Bracknell

For all his supposed genius, Sirius Black had always had rather a blind spot for the patently obvious.

What To Make Of Him by Lady Bracknell

Neither Ted nor Andromeda know quite what to make of their daughter's boyfriend. Can he win them round over Sunday lunch?

On First Impressions by  cafei-au-lei

"'You know,' Sirius said, 'it's kind of funny. For someone who thinks Remus is so annoying, you sure can't seem to stop talking about him.'" A series of moments in Remus and Tonks' developing relationship as they get to know each other and learn that maybe first impressions aren't necessarily everything. OOTP. Fluffy oneshot.

The Order's Most Eligible Bachelors by cafei-au-lei

The Order's Most Eligible Bachelors, or: the ladies indulge in some firewhiskey and gossip. Sirius and Remus stumble upon a game they're not sure they want to be privy to (okay, maybe Sirius does.) The results lead to some necessary conversation and introspection for a few of the parties involved. Oneshot.

The Talk, Or: The (Lighthearted) Trauma of Teddy R Lupin by cafei-au-lei

Teddy knew when Dad brought out the firewhiskey that something was suspicious. Then again, maybe he wasn't giving Dad enough credit for being the cool parent. AU. Remus and Tonks survive to raise their son and give him The Dreaded Talk. Oneshot.

Movement by MrsTater

Things appear to have changed. One shot, RLNT

Retrograde by MrsTater

Sequel to Movement: Tonks strongly suspected, though she hadn't much experience, that it wasn't normal for adults who fancied other adults to do what she was doing now.

Kernels by MrsTater

A Transfigured Hearts outtake: a cosy night in with Remus takes an unexpected turn when popcorn finds its way into odd places and leads Tonks to make an important discovery.

Party till the wolf comes by MrsTater

Fatherhood doesn't send Remus on a pub crawl, but announcing the birth of his son to his closest friends turns out to be the next best thing.

Overheard by MrsTater

Sirius tries to play matchmaker for an ambivalent Remus and Tonks, but when everyone keeps overhearing everyone else's conversations, things get a little complicated as shapeshifters prove to be anything but predictable... Updated Sept 3, 2007

The Honeymooners by MrsTater

Two years after their wedding, Remus and Tonks finally make it on their honeymoon. But now they've got something they didn't when they first married, will they be able to stop thinking about it long enough to enjoy themselves? AU

A Conversation That’s Not About Veela by starfishstar

Harry and Professor Lupin talk about women, and other things. During Christmas of HBP. (A gen story, but with very strong hints of Remus/Tonks and Harry/Ginny.)

Sleeping by starfishstar

Tonks sleeps; Remus muses

Precisely What I Mean by starfishstar

Remus with Teddy was easily the sweetest thing Tonks had ever seen. It seemed Remus couldn't ever hold Teddy without gazing down at his son with a huge, helpless, delighted grin. "Don't your cheeks ever get tired?" Tonks couldn't help teasing him once, and he'd glanced up, bewildered by the question – he didn't even realise he was doing it.

A Slow and Stopping Curve by aegle

Concerning Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. Set during Order of the Phoenix and Half-Blood Prince.

St. Margaret's by aegle

Remus, Tonks, a Muggle automobile, and a slightly disappointing beach adventure

On Bethlehem Down by aegle

Remus Lupin finds himself at Nymphadora Tonks' flat on Christmas Eve, 1996

The poem which i do not write by aegle

So, it has come to London with them, whatever it is.

The Watch by Sirussly

He'd grown so used to her endless chatter and relentless questions, a burning ball of energy with a laugh like her mother's. Some nights Tonks would listen to him instead, to stories of war and the price one pays for being a soldier in the middle of it. Occasionally neither of them would speak, but once her hand found his and stayed there until the sunrise coloured the sky.

Flame by Eat a Taco

It's strange what the soft light of a candle can do to someone.RLNT, sometime during HBP

Cover Me by Maggiemaye

Remus and Tonks embark on a mission that tests their well-established partnership to its limits. Even while surrounded by Death Eaters hidden in plain sight, they find that their greatest threats may come from within.

Expecto Patronum by Shimotsuki

Remus and Tonks have dinner at the Potters' after seeing Teddy off on the Hogwarts Express. James and Al are full of questions, including one that not even Harry knows the answer to.

Meet the Reindeer by SweetDeamon 

Nothing untoward had happened since Teddy had arrived home from Hogwarts for the holidays this year. So far there had been no manically jingling elves, no traumatised Santa Claus, no mass snowball fights, no exploding cans of fake snow and as of yet nothing had come hurtling down the chimney or splattered anything or anybody with ammunition of the culinary kind. So far. RLNT AU.

Meet the Teacher by SweetDeamon 

In which Remus and Dora receive word from Hogwarts that their son's homework has been completed in a far from satisfactory manner. The subject? Defence Against the Dark Arts. The topic? Werewolves. They've been expecting trouble since the beginning of term...but who feels less prepared? Teddy's parents or Teddy's teacher? Neville has a hunch... AU. RLNT. Rated for mild language.

A Study In Pink by SweetDeamon 

"He isn't entirely sure how it is that a certain pink haired witch came to be lying snugly in the bed beside him yet again, or indeed why such a thing had ever occurred the first time around..." RLNT.

A Piece of Cake by SweetDeamon 

"How long does it take to make a bloody sponge cake!" "You can't rush art, Sirius." Tonks attempts to bake Remus a birthday cake. "Attempts to" being the key phrase here... RLNT. Happy Birthday Gelly Bean!

The Christmas Waltz by Lady Bracknell 

As Christmas approaches, Remus and Tonks dance around the idea of togetherness, wondering if either of them is leading, or know where they're going at all.

Mistletoe and Wine by Lady Bracknell 

Remus falls foul of the mistletoe. Twice. RL/LP, RL/NT, LP/JP, rated for language.

Afraid of the Dark by Lady Bracknell 

Remus had always been ill at ease in the forest, but when a mission for Dumbledore sends him into the heart of the place with Tonks by his side, he finds his apprehension harder than usual to shake off.

The Luck of the Draw by Lady Bracknell 

She sits on the carpet, shuffles the cards, then deals them out. She came here with the hope of forcing the issue, because she just knows they shouldn't be about can't and won't.

Chione by: cafei-au-lei

Remus has confirmation that Tonks may return his feelings - now all that's left is to decide what to do with this rather exciting and terrifying information. And although it's been a strange year, this year's Christmas could shape up to be one of the best Remus has ever had. Takes place after "The Order's Most Eligible Bachelors." RLNT OotP holiday fluff.

The First Night by: cafei-au-lei 

Most major events in Remus' life have done nothing but reinforce the crushing inevitability of his condition and the life that it has condemned him to. But maybe there is hope to be had, after all.

amare by: cafei-au-lei 

At first, the idea that Tonks and Professor Lupin could be together was equal parts baffling and absurd. But then, maybe it did make a tiny bit of sense, Ginny thought, as she watched the way Professor Lupin looked at Tonks over the breakfast table. But she still couldn't help but think that this love and relationships thing was far too complicated. RLNT.

War Baby by MrsTater 

It's time for Teddy's first outing, and for Tonks to make peace with a noble great idiot. Set during Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Perchance To Dream by: MrsTater

A dream leads to an argument and an unexpected quest to seek out the meaning. Will Remus and Tonks kiss and make up? More importantly, who will come out on top? RLNT, Deathly Hallows, Mature.

Like a Cat in the Sun by starfishstar 

Remus is in a house full of women.