#she is one of the most historical figures of all time

[queerbauten]

From Divorced, Beheaded, Survived: A Feminist Reinterpretation of the Wives of Henry VII by Karen Lindsey

[arolesbianism]

Glory my bestie Glory

[yuwuta]

RODEO STATION, 2 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

A collection of you and Megumi through the years, through Gojo’s eyes. 

content, warnings: childhood friends to lovers, canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique sort of delved into here

word count: 2.2k

part ii: you and megumi are ten, tsumiki is eleven, gojo is twenty-ish?, about six or seven months after gojo meets all of you, and adopts megumi and tsumiki. you can read part one here

The moment that Satoru met him, he knew that Megumi was a little troublemaker and there was little he could do to stop that. Satoru didn’t mind for the most part, and he couldn’t blame the kid either—honestly, he was more surprised that Megumi didn’t routinely get himself into more trouble, but he supposes he has you and Tsumiki to thank for that. 

He’d naively believed that you and Tsumiki both played the role of anchoring maternal figure for Megumi, but it only takes a few weeks for Satoru to learn that it’s Tsumiki that serves as the anchor for you two. Satoru then earnestly wonders if you were bullying Megumi with the way you’re able to keep him under your thumb, but when Megumi adamantly refutes this with the nastiest, most offended scowl Satoru’s ever seen on a kid before, he backs off and reasons that this is just how your relationship with Megumi works.

And, as it turns out, Megumi is the only one doing any sort of bullying. He’s ten and Satoru has been to more parent-teacher conferences than any other parent has ever possibly attended in their lifetime. He didn’t even know that it was possible for kid his age to get kicked out of school, especially at this point in the year. There’s only three months left until summer vacation, so Satoru enlists Ieiri’s help in enrolling Megumi into public school to finish out fifth grade. She also reassures him that this separation from you and Tsumiki is temporary, and that you would all be able to attend middle school together again in the fall. 

The major problem then becomes that you all get dismissed at different times. You and Tsumiki used to end your days at the same time, but Tsumiki starts staying late to take piano lessons. However, this is remedied by the mother of a friend of Tsumiki’s, who drives her home afterwards; an older woman that Satoru becomes eternally grateful for. Even so, you’re dismissed thirty minutes before Megumi, and some shuffling has to be done to align your commutes. Satoru knows that the three of you took yourselves to and from school before he came into the picture, and that most kids your age are more than capable getting home on their own, but after you told him that some old man from the Kamo clan came to talk to you after school one day, he can’t help but to worry. 

Satoru isn’t your guardian, not in the way that he is for Megumi and Tsumiki, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel responsible for you—morally, financially, emotionally, and more importantly, for his own safety because he knows he’d have both Divine Dogs biting at his ankles if something curse-related happened to you and he didn’t do anything to stop it. 

You were currently under the care of your elderly great aunt who hadn’t a shred of cursed energy from what Satoru could tell. He had Principal Yaga do a background check, and found no other sorcerers in your immediate family, nor any traceable Kamo relatives, and more importantly, you didn’t possess any sort of Blood Manipulation technique. Satoru’s seen what you can do so far to control water, has even seen you give the Divine Dogs trouble in a gentle sparring match—you’re impressive, even at your young age, so he can understand why a powerful clan might see the potential in you, but the Kamo clan isn’t historically welcoming of outsiders. If you’re not related to them, he can’t fathom why any member would physically approach you. 

The old man never revealed his name to you, but Satoru’s certain it’s either a clan elder, or the current head himself; neither of which bring him any comfort. In the spirit of their traditional ways, he doubts anyone would actually try to harm you out in the open, but Satoru still wants to keep you on close watch for a little while. He thinks he’s the best man for the job. He’s quickly proven otherwise. 

He exorcises curses with a bit of hastiness and little tact in order to be there when you get dismissed from school. Ieiri says it’s creepy to follow you from a distance, but Satoru is just doing what he can to protect you. If somebody else is following you, he wants to see who they are. They’ll never approach or reveal themselves if he hovers next to you, and if you half the pride that Megumi has, you’d run him out of town if he ticked you off by playing overprotective big brother—so, instead, he positions himself far enough away to observe you, and close enough to defend if need be. 

He never needs to. 

For as wild and boisterous as you are with Megumi and Tsumiki, you follow a simple, quiet after school routine. You walk with Tsumiki and her friends to the west gate to drop them off at piano practice, then cross the street to buy a snack—this differs, but you always get a carton of strawberry milk—and then walk to the train station. It’s a ten minute walk from your school to the station, and a fifteen minute walk from Megumi’s school to the station, which is why Satoru doesn’t quite know how the kid manages to keep you waiting for only seven minutes on average when he already gets out of school thirty minutes after you. 

Once he gets over the initial shock, he can’t help but to be amused. He knows that when Megumi first changed schools, he started meeting you on the train, two stops later—at the one closer to his new school. But in the last week, Megumi has walked himself seventeen blocks east, at what Satoru guesses must be an inhuman pace, just to meet you at the station closest to you. 

When two weeks have passed since the unknown Kamo elder has contacted you, and no other incidents have occurred, Satoru resigns his position as perimeter watchdog. He has a bunch of missions to catch up on anyway, and he figures that you and Megumi are safe in each other’s care for now. 

A few weeks later, after catching up on his assignments, Satoru decides to check back in. He knows he doesn’t have to, but something in his stomach is telling him to. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the curse he fought earlier today had some kind of toxic blood that has him thinking the worst could happen to you, or getting a call that Megumi had been cutting some of his classes, or that he’s tired and delusional and worried and scared, or maybe it’s just his blooming maternal instincts telling him something is wrong, but he rushes to spy on your commute home. 

He’s late. Megumi isn’t with you, and you’re already on the train when he makes it to the station and he can sense two sources of cursed energy trailing way too close behind you just as the train doors shut. His mind is racing irrationally—is this an unusual move by the Kamo clan, or perhaps someone else? Word had certainly gotten around that he’d picked up Toji Fushiguro’s kid, plus another kid with immense cursed potential, and Satoru himself and the Gojo clan have more than enough enemies. Whatever it may be, he doesn’t take his chances, using his newly honed short-range teleportation skills to make it to the next station before the train can. 

He’s panting, thinking about every worst possible scenario at once, wondering how to best deal with whoever or whatever was targeting you, especially in such a crowded place, wondering if you’re safe, if Megumi was safe—why wasn’t he with you? Has someone already gotten to him, too? Was Tsumiki even at piano practice? Oh god, if he hasn’t already been kidnapped, Megumi is totally going to kill him if something happens to you. 

Satoru rushes onto the train as soon as the door opens, eyes wildly scanning for you through the crowd, ready to strike when he finally finds you—seated towards the back of the car, reading the book that Tsumiki had loaned to you, quietly, and both the black and white Divine Dogs sitting on either side of you. 

And Satoru has to laugh at himself. If he’d stopped for even a moment (or if he’d gotten more than two hours worth of sleep in the past three weeks trying to make up all his assignments), he’d have recognized Megumi’s residuals, would have recognized the energy of the dogs, and would have pieced together that there wasn’t a single threatening aura in the vicinity. 

Oopsies. 

“Gojo?” you call to him, not too loud as to not to disturb everyone else’s commute. “How come you’re here?” 

Satoru shuffles through the crowd and holds onto the overhead rail once he’s next to you. The white dog moves to settle underneath your short legs, blinking at him with disinterest. “Got off a little early today, thought I’d surprise you brats, that’s all,” he says, then motions to the dogs next to you, “Where’s Megumi?” 

You blink at him. Satoru knows you probably don’t believe him, but you spare him the embarrassment when you don’t push it further. “He had to make up a credit today, so he’s getting on at the next stop. Do you want a sandwich? They only had ones with peppers today, so Megumi won’t eat it, but Mr. Teuchi gave me two, anyway.” 

“What, is he allergic or something?” Satoru questions, accepting your offer, and the seat next to you when he starts to unwrap the sandwich. 

“No, he’s just picky,” you tell him, closing your book to unwrap yours, too. You’re quiet, taking your first two bites, before you turn to him again, “How did you know Megumi was missing?”

Satoru chokes. It gains him a few concerned stares, and even a pointed ear from the black dog, before he regains his composure. “Um... he tells me usually he follows you home from the other stop, that’s why.” 

“Then why didn’t you try to surprise us at the other stop?”

Satoru pauses again. Since when did ten year olds get so lippy and observant? “I did, but I was late. So I sort of,” Satoru leans down, crinkling the empty sandwich wrapper in his right hand and uses his left to beckon you towards him to whisper, “Teleported here.” He pulls back, prideful, and crosses his legs, “Pretty cool, right?” 

“So, why didn’t you just teleport to the first station when you realized you were going to be late?” You question, mocking his whispering tone when you repeat the word. 

“Hey, you think doing that kind of stuff comes automatically? I can’t just pop up anyplace at any time,” Satoru groans, a bit overdramatically, “Not yet, anyway. I’ll be able to do that soon.” 

You hum, kicking your legs happily as you take another bite out of your snack. “I think I get it. Megumi says it’s hard spreading out and controlling your cursed energy over long distances, but he’s been practicing hard. He can send the dogs way far away from him now.” 

“I see,” Satoru turns his chin down, eyeing the Divine Dogs with a gentle smile. He almost says that it’s easier to send shikigami on their own, especially those like Megumi’s, and particularly when you anchor them to another source of cursed energy such as yourself, but you look way too proud of Megumi for him to burst your bubble. He also declines to say that Megumi probably doesn’t send the dogs to you on days like this just for the sake of practicing. 

A crush isn’t quite exactly the motivation Satoru pictured when he told Megumi he’d have to work hard and get strong, but whatever works, works. 

Ten minutes later, the train comes to a steady halt. Megumi is the first new passenger on board, and unlike Satoru, he doesn’t need to turn his head wildly, every which way to find you. You’re like a beacon to Megumi, he easily finds the both of you in the last seats in the car, and steadily makes his way to you. 

Megumi greets you before he greets Satoru, taking the seat across and facing you before he turns to the taller man with a much less receptive frown, “What are you doing here?” 

“I believe the word you’re looking for is hello, Megumi,” Satoru teases, reaching across to ruffle his already unruly hair. Megumi grumbles, batting his offending hand away.

“Gojo ate your sandwich,” you chirp. 

“What?” Satoru yells, incredulous, “I did not. You gave it to me—tell him!” 

You have much more fun watching Satoru scramble than defending his honor. It’s only when Satoru gives his best pout that you admit to Megumi that you offered up his sandwich, consoling him with the fact that it included his least favorite ingredient and making it up by pulling out two cartons of strawberry milk for him. Megumi accepts them both with quiet thanks, cheeks growing pink to match the cartons, and you smiling widely when he takes his first sip. 

Satoru had a hunch those were for Megumi. So, this isn’t one-sided. Good for you kids. 

It’s another twenty-six minutes before it’s time for you all to get off the train. The Gojo-Fushiguro residence and your great aunt’s house are in opposite directions, but are both just a short five minute journey from the station exit. One you can certainly make on your own, and still, Megumi insists that you let the dogs walk with you and that he’ll release them once you’re home. 

“It’s good practice,” Megumi mumbles, shooing you on your way uphill, “I want to know how long I can keep them out, too.” 

You have that same look on your face that you had earlier, like you don’t quite believe Megumi, but just as with earlier, you don’t say anything, sparing Megumi and Satoru a formal goodbye and a wave before heading home. Satoru and Megumi turn to walk back to their own house, he can’t help but to smile every time Megumi turns his head to look back at your silhouette. 

Satoru decides that you’re not Megumi’s anchor, you’re the lighthouse that guides him to shore, a light that he follows with faith and reason; a safe haven that Megumi seeks to protect. Satoru can admire that, but he wonders what happened that could make the most unruly kid he knows pledge his allegiance like that. Megumi would have refused Satoru’s aid if he hadn’t agreed to let you stay in his life, and although he’d chalked it up to puppy love before, Satoru’s beginning to wonder if there’s anything he, or anyone, even could do to separate the two of you. 

Likely not, he concludes, when two weeks later, your class goes on a field trip and Megumi is the one who comes home exhausted and crashes onto the couch immediately. When Satoru asks, all he gets is a tired grunt; but shortly after Megumi falls asleep, he can feel a few extra shadows at his feet, and a glimpse of the white dog before she completely vanishes into the darkness. 

Satoru chuckles, leaning down to ruffle Megumi’s hair before heading to the kitchen to make a snack for Tsumiki. If this is the rate that Megumi trains to keep his loved ones protected, then Satoru has no worries about him getting strong enough to keep up with him.

[heavenlymorals]

I feel like a lot of people forget that the Van Dir Linde gang was actually famous in their universe- Dutch Van Dir Linde was as famous as the real life Butch Cassidy. The gang had as much infamy as the Wild Bunch or the Dalton gang. Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Bill Williamson, Javier Esculla, Lenny Summers, Charles Smith, Sean McGuire and more were probably as famous as the real life Doc Holliday, Jesse James, Black Bart, Rufus Buck, Ike Clanton, the Sundance Kid, Wild Bill Hickock, and more.

Sadie Adler would've been just as famous. She was a gunslinger like the real life Calamity Jane and Anne Oakley and she was an outlaw at one point like Laura Bullion, Pearl Hart, Belle Star, The Cassidy Sisters, and more.

The other women of the camp would've probably been less popular but still very intriguing figures to people in the future.

In the newspapers, we see that there are songs about Dutch's boys and books too. Trelawny mentions them being on dime novels. In the future, the pieced together story of the Van Dir Linde gang might've gotten adapted into a movie, similar to "Butch Cassidy and the Sun Dance Kid" or "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford". They could've gotten biopics, documentaries, and more.

Historians and fans of the wild West era would dig up records, find pictures, and maybe even track down people who were apart of the gang, accomplices to the gang, or victims of the gang. They would try to piece together stories to figure out the mystery of what actually happened to the gang.

People would argue over things that happened in the gang and have their evidence to back it up. Letters written by gang members would become so valuable. If they ever someone come across Arthur's journal, it would probably be considered one of the most valuable pieces of documentation to ever exist for that time period.

The guns of the gang would probably be kept in museums if found. Albert Mason's portrait of Arthur Morgan would be found in history books, same as other pictures.

Dutch would probably be a very controversial figure in history- some would hail him as a failed hero and others would condemn his violence no matter the reason- they wouldn't know what the people in the gang knew- especially in the end. Same with the rest of the gang members.

They'd probably all get romanticized. Hosea and Dutch's friendship, the raising of the boys, Dutch and Annabelle and his fued with Colm, Mary and Arthur, John and his family, Javier being a revolutionary- no one would know the full story.

And then there is Jack- he may live to see the 1960s and 70s and 80s. He may have grandchildren who'd pull him into a theater to watch a retelling of the gang that he was a part of at one point. He'd be amused. He'd think that the actor playing his father was too clean looking, too pretty. He'd think that the movie Arthur was too skinny. He'd think that the man playing Dutch had a funny voice as he tried to mimic the accent. He'd laugh and make notes in his head of the historical accuracy. He'd feel sorrowful at the deaths of the characters- he knew them at some point. And no one at the theater would know that the old man with the rowdy bright eyed boys who brought him there was Jack Marston, the last of the Van Dir Linde gang.

Jack might talk about it to the public. He might do interviews. He might even write a book about his father, the infamous John Marston. Those would be priceless. Even Beecher's Hope might be kept around and visited as a historical site for history goers.

And honestly? It is such a bittersweet thing.

[marudol]

kabru and the dungeon lords

kabru is a very critical character to dungeon meshi for a thousand and one reasons, and not merely for his status as the point-of-view character in the story's b-plot. kabru represents the compass by which dungeon meshi's world works. he has big-picture motives that involve the entire world, much grander than the original a-plot of "let's save falin."

he is our classic hero, a character who suffered great personal tragedy and must ensure that no one suffers the same fate. as such, he is a great parallel for dungeon meshi's most integral characters:

the dungeon lords themselves.

🚨manga spoilers ahead.🚨

thistle

picture this: you are a child, separate from anyone else in the world who looks like you due to circumstances beyond your control. you are taken by pale-skinned adults who try to treat you well; who clothe you, feed you, and put a roof over your head.

it is not enough.

who am i describing - kabru, or thistle?

kabru-thistle parallels focus on their shared past as trans-racial adoptees. their shared experiences are not a universal one to all trans-racial adoptions in the dungeon meshi universe: the floke twins are treated well by their gnomish foster (grand)parents; allowed to be children while they are children and treated as adults when they are adults.

not all trans-racial adoptees are given the same courtesy. kabru was raised by an elf who infantilized him, even once he was fully-grown. milsiril did not always know what kabru needed from her, so she defaulted to treating him the way she would treat an elf his age rather than understand what his age meant as a tall-man.

by contrast, thistle was raised by tall-men. freinag saw thistle as a son and so he and delgal thought themselves as brothers. but as delgal aged and matured, thistle remained stagnant. eventually, delgal's relative age surpassed thistle's- but no one could even conceive of that, because thistle's numerical age made the tall-men around him treat him as an adult rather than a teenager.

they both feel immense responsibility for the tragedies suffered by their people. kabru explicitly believes there must be a "reason" he survived utaya and that the reason was to destroy the dungeons to ensure it never happened again, and thistle IS the reason the golden country survived their war, and why eodio made it to adulthood all.

kabru and thistle are characters pre- and post-accomplishing their goals. kabru has yet to assume total responsibility; thistle already has.

they must save them- they must protect them all.

[🩵]

marcille

once upon a time, a child lost a parent before they were ready to, and the trajectory of their life changed forever. desperate to understand, the child grew into an adult and dedicated themself to preventing their personal loss from happening to anyone else ever again. as a result, they looked downward into the dungeon's depths.

they will find the answers they seek.

who am i describing- kabru, or marcille?

marcille and kabru stand as important secondary figures to laios, our main protagonist. in the words of another excellent post, they are the heaven foils to laios's earth. where laios is grounded and thinking about the here and now, they have both identified big picture problems plaguing their world and pursue these goals with intense fervor.

however, these goals have been diverted by censorship. marcille cannot access information about historical ancient magic through traditional means and the elves won't tell kabru what happened to utaya's dungeon, so they both decide to go and do something with their own two hands.

entering the dungeon is a step towards their grander goals, which are both rooted in opposition to long-lived supremacy. critically: the solutions they come to are vastly different.

marcille's solution is very fantastical - "fixing" everyone's lifespans by making EVERYONE long-lived (though her original solution seemed to be more grounded; being a lord gave her the chance to indulge in the full fantasy).

on the other hand, kabru wants something more concrete and based in the real world. he wants to use the dungeon as a means to an end before destroying it entirely, whereas marcille wants the dungeon to be the end. hers is a magic idea borne about by escapism, while kabru wants to solve a societal problem with something tangible to improve the lives of the shorter-lived without resorting to the fantastical.

(note the similarity in these compositions!)

kabru and marcille are aiming for the heavens; they have chosen to act as stewards to bring about a better future for as many people as possible.

but eventually, they must crash back down to earth.

[🩵]

mithrun

a long time ago, a dungeon lord met their maker and the demon ate its fill, but failed to breach the surface. carnage and destruction was sown in its wake. in the aftermath, a survivor dedicated himself completely and utterly to the cause with no room for reproach.

the dungeon will be conquered. and if he has it his way, it will be conquered by his hand.

who am i describing- kabru, or mithrun?

if thistle represents kabru's past and marcille represents kabru's present, than mithrun represents one branch of kabru's future- and a rather bleak one.

mithrun has suffered great tragedy at the hands of a dungeon and, as a result, dedicated himself to be what he believes is his one remaining desire: to finally be consumed entirely. he thinks he has nothing else to live for, so he runs himself ragged every single day just to inch closer and closer at a chance to kill himself while pursuing his goal.

this great fervor is one that kabru artificially mimics long before meeting mithrun. kabru is willing to die for his goals. he does die for his goals. he thinks he is going to die without a chance for resurrection when he sabotages the canaries, which is why his 'last' thought is "it's up to you now, laios!"

remember: kabru believes his survival has to serve a purpose- his survival must have been 'worth it.' in order to make his own survival palettable, kabru dedicates himself entirely to the dungeon's destruction without long-lived intervention as a means to avoid repeating utaya's fate. kabru self-deprives, fails to care for himself, and he is constantly killed in pursuit of his goal to conquer the dungeon before people like the canaries can. while kabru has desires, he only indulges in the one that has guided him for over a decade.

functionally, he and mithrun are identical when they first meet.

kabru has purposefully deprived himself of his desires beyond ensuring another utaya doesn't happen again, and mithrun is proof of what happens when you follow that to its logical conclusion. however, over the course of their week together and the final arc of the story, kabru makes the choice to divert from mithrun's fate.

kabru looks into the eye of his ultimate goal, and in the culmination of his arc, ultimately refuses this destiny.

what do you want, kabru? are you hungry, kabru?

kabru indulges. instead of blindly following through the dungeon's destruction and sacrificing what he wants for the greater good, he wants, and he befriends laios instead of ending his life. he leaves mithrun's fate behind...

...and senshi- one of the most steadfast representatives of dungeon meshi's thesis- sets mithrun on a path where he, too, can learn to chase after newer, healthier desires.

[🩵]

laios

one day, a child was hungry for the answer to a question: "what is wrong with me?"

there is no satisfactory answer. a mother and a sister believe nothing is wrong, but everyone else in their small world disagrees. those eyes, that personality- something must be wrong.

but there is no recourse.

so, these children endeavor to focus on the world around them in ways that won't hurt them. one chooses to study and love humans, because humans are beautiful and complex and amazing. the other chooses to study and love monsters, because monsters are easier to understand and always obey one simple rule: eat or be eaten.

they double down on their interests soon enough. monsters have hurt one child enough, and humans can't get enough of hurting the other.

you know which one is kabru. you know which one is laios- dungeon meshi's fabled narrative foils.

laios and kabru are as textually close to being explicit foils as humanly possible. the first sentence of kabru's page of the adventurer's bible says it perfectly: "in every possible way, he's a contrast with laios. laios loves monsters, while kabru has an endless interest in humans" (56).

in basic terms, a foil character is a character with traits that contrast against another's, typically the main protagonist. this contrast serves to highlight the themes of the story, and we see that illustrated perfectly with laios and kabru.

where kabru has denied himself care, laios gives it to him without thinking. where laios believed no one could ever want to be his friend, kabru proves him wrong. the nature of nourishment and human connection are both critical foundations to dungeon meshi's story, and the main character struggling with human connection while his foil struggles with nourishment is no mistake.

kabru wanted to be laios's friend all along. the b-plot of dungeon meshi is driven by kabru's unconscious desire to understand and ultimately aid one inscrutable laios touden. the reason they cross paths at all is because kabru wants to meet him! he takes a chance when toshiro appears and sees his chance through.

but kabru doesn't realize it until he's already said it. he betrays himself, completely unaware that his supposed interest in the touden siblings skews a little more to the right than he could have possibly known.

killing laios would have been the ultimate preventative measure. he was yet to be dungeon lord, and with the canaries intent on handling marcille, kabru could have dealt with him right then on that cliff. but kabru doesn't take the opportunity because he doesn't want to.

he'd rather befriend laios than see him dead, and he takes the chance by the sleeve and doesn't let go until he is listened to.

and in the end, kabru is rewarded for his leap of faith: laios puts an end to the demon. laios has ensured that another utaya will never happen again.

laios saves the world.

all because kabru allowed himself to be selfish.

[stars-for-circe]

Save A Horse… (1000 Special) - Part 1

Tags / cw: headcanons, cowboy!ellie x high society/noble victorian!reader, 1800s dual Victorian and Wild West eras, historical romance, hidden/forbidden romance, sexual tension, fluff

Surrounded by other patrons in a busy seaside bar, Ellie sat in the corner booth, lazily swirling a whiskey glass in clockwise motions. Her Stetson hung low on her head, hiding her face from the many who chose to seek shelter from the sweltering heat. Occasionally, the doors would be opened, letting in the bright midday sun and outdoor buzz, but the ambiance of the bar remained otherwise undisturbed. Peace and fucking quiet - something Ellie had been needing.

Cowboy!Ellie who was drinking at that oceanside bar when your family first arrived in the Americas

She could remember it clear as day, how it went from a bustling street outside to yelling and gathering in excitement. It seemed that everyone was rather keen to see the new family - and new wealth - moving into the town.

She could also remember the bells ringing and the thudding of the wooden stairs as they lowered for your family to step off the ship, one by one. Curiosity won, Ellie thought, as she raised her hat to take a look out of the window next to her, and she counted four people - two parents and two young boys. Behind them a large group of maids carrying enough luggage to weigh down a small boat.

For a moment, Ellie thought that was that, but then - in the corner of her eye - came a flurry of bright fabric as you ran to the stairs, almost tripping in your dress on the way down. And for the first time in a long time, that heady buzz of the port went quiet, as almost every man (and some women too, Ellie noticed) watched you in awe.

But Ellie ignored everyone else, and their plans and advances on you. Because the moment you stepped off the ship, catching her eye - and quite possibly her heart - in the process, Ellie knew you would be hers.

Cowboy!Ellie who was hired to do work on your property, only to meet you the very first day

The estate your father bought was fucking huge - she could tell from the very end of the winding road leading up to the hill it stood on. But the paddocks were messy, and unkempt. In hindsight, Ellie really should have guessed she’d be hired to fix it up…

…And also get closer to you, of course.

It was a boiling hot day that she was ordered to ride shimmer up to the property, for a tour and and instructions and all that. And by the time Ellie got up there, she was drenched in sweat - all this money and they couldn’t offer her a carriage or something?

It was just before noon, too, so it would only get hotter. Ellie could only hope that the first few hours would be spent inside the property and away from the afternoon sun. She unbuttoned her shirt down by two, pulling it back. and forth to uselessly fan her partially exposed chest. This was a bullshit job for the pay she was promised.

But, she thought, as she noticed not one, but two figures walking out to meet her on the patio, the promise of you once again most definitely payed the rest. God, you were even more beautiful closer up - the sun casting a glow on your face, as the wind at the top of the hill blew your hair around your face like a halo, and the baby blue silks of your dress around you like rippling water.

You walked up to her with your father, as he introduced the both of you to Ellie, and welcomed her to the property along with all the other necessary formalities. She shook hands with him - quite firmly, too - as he told her of the projects and repairs needed to be done on the property. But she couldn't help but let her eyes trace back to you, as you took turns glancing at your father as he spoke, and at Ellie. Or more specifically her hands, that now rested at her side after she shook hands with him.

Partly, she listened to the long list of chores your father had set up, but Ellie was mostly just focused on your wandering eyes finding their way back to hers, and she smirked softly as you blinked in surprise when you realised she was already looking at you, taking you out of your trance. And, as your expression grew slightly more shocked, cheeks warming just a tad past normal, her expression could only be described as one of a mischievous grin, as the never-ending speech your father gave only meant one thing:

She was going to be here, with you, for a while.

Cowboy!Ellie who then spends every waking hour finding spare time to be around you

It would have been a few weeks by now, each day within that filled with stolen glances, shy smiles and sly smirks between you two. Each and every time you passed the old storehouse Ellie had been assigned to repaint, you would feel her gaze leave the building and become fixated on you, daring you to turn around and make eye contact. You almost did - to be fair - by letting your eyes wander the grassy path between the both of you, and travel up her soiled boots and paint-stained jeans, up her dirty wife-beater hidden under baggy flannel, and to her sheening neck, almost glistening under the hot summer sun.

But never her eyes. You weren't ever going to lose that game to temptation, not when she so obviously wanted you to play. Instead, you simply walked past, book tight in your hand as you crossed the field and into the middle of an empty paddock, letting her gaze follow you all the way to the large oak tree standing proudly in the centre - after staying here for a while, you had found the perfect place to read. And, well, the swings on hanging down from the tree gave you the perfect view of Ellie hard at work, safe from her attention.

Unfortunately, however, it seemed that you had been spotted after all these weeks. At first, you hadn't even noticed, much too engrossed in your book. But the clearing of her throat as she smirked down at you, hands on her hips, told you everything you needed to know.

"Nice book you're reading" She spoke, taking her eyes off you as she leaned against the trunk of the tree behind you, placing a cigarette between her lips. And the sun at this time of day did nothing to help, creating shadows and rays through the leaves that made her just that much hotter.

"You mind?" She asked, raising a brow while making a gesture to the lighter in her hand.

"Not at all" you replied, taking your attention back to your reading, before registering what she said. You furrowed your brows and snapped your book shut.

"I didn't know you read books."

She glanced up at you as you said that, huffing out a laugh as she took the lit cigarette from between her lips, the smoke billowing out of her open mouth.

"Nah, but those books definitely ring a bell, doll." You paused, confused for a moment, before realising what exactly you had brought out with you.

"I- you mean you- you're..?"

Ellie let out a full on chuckle this time, kicking her leg out from off the tree trunk and putting the cigarette back between her lips. She took another puff, before giving you once last glance as she walked off. But not before calling out to you one last time, as she headed back downhill.

"You're a smart girl, doll. You'd be right to trust your gut."

...Damn those sapphic poets.

Author's note: *peeks head behind door slowly* hiiiii.......No but actually, I went MIA for a bit sorry ab that </3, there's actually a lot more to life than tumblr when you discover the outside world and fresh air, surprisingly. But anyways! I hit 1000 about a month ago and felt like I really should have posted something for it so here's this! There's actually another half thats incomplete but I felt like you guys at least deserved something after so long without any posts, so here u go <3

Taglist: @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @flowersforvi

[vampire-wizard-solidarity]

a lot of people have already pointed out how totk has a lot of themes of imperialism and generally leans conservative ideologically, but what i think is interesting is how totk subtly redefines what a “researcher” is.

zelda wants to be a researcher in botw, and what this means in the context of botw is largely someone who works with sheikah technology. she wants to figure out ancient sheikah tech, she has an interest in botany and otherwise nature and biology (the whole silent princess and the frog thing), robbie and purah, the two characters who are the closest to us seeing what a researcher in the context of botw is are basically inventors. in totk, however, the main researchers who are presented to us are all historians.

this is an interesting pivot, because in botw zelda is not really interested in history. if anything, the one who’s deeply concerned with history is rhoam, wanting to preserve historical tradition and his uncritical reliance on said tradition and historical precedent is what leads them to their doom. in botw, zelda is narratively opposed to history, if anything, all the ancient tech backfires on them and traditions fail to awaken zelda’s power. zelda’s urge to be a researcher is in wanting to understand the world around her, not just blindly follow ancient plans but rather have agency within them.

totk, however, is obsessed with ancient plans. the only real moment where zelda gets to geek out in totk is her getting all giddy about finding out more about the divine origins of hyrule. all the researchers in the game are concerned with finding out more about the zonai. since all the mentions of ancient sheikah technology are scrubbed from the game purah and robbie read more as strange outliers, the sheikah slate is no longer, now it’s the purah pad, a product of purah rather than something larger. the whole game is literally about following an ancient plan, a plan most characters don’t fully understand as they sign up for it. totk’s main story is built on confusion, on the characters not knowing what’s fully going on but having faith in ancient sages telling them what to do. in botw, following ancient plans you don’t fully understand was the thing that doomed you. in totk, following ancient plans you don’t fully understand is the gimmick.

that juxtaposition between the two games has an ideological through line: botw posits that progress is necessary. mindlessly relying on tradition doesn’t work. prophecies are omens, not instructions. history must be learnt from, not repeated. the ancient sheikah aren’t a group to be emulated, but rather to be learnt from, considering their machinery backfired and the royal family betrayed them. totk, however, is obsessed with the mythical history of hyrule, a time where everything was idyllic until one bad man showed up, a time we must emulate in order to win. i already talked about how the past in totk is zelda’s life pre calamity but better here, but that also plays into the idolisation of that era and its royalty. in botw, even the myth of the first calamity preserves the fact that the yiga clan has origins in the royal’s family persecution of the sheikah, even the time when they successfully held back the calamity is tinged with mistakes that still affect the world ten thousand years later. in totk, ganondorf’s origins are nebulous. nobody provoked him, nobody did anything wrong, he’s just evil because he is.

a lot of right wing ideologies are hinged on preservation, but more than that: the belief in the nebulous mythical past in which everything was better. “make america great again”, the fascist’s idolisation of ancient rome which is represented largely inaccurately, look at any conservative rhetoric and you’ll see people complaining about how things nowadays are ruined or are being ruined, how in the past things were this way and they’re not anymore, which is bad. the belief in the fact that in some past period we were great and are not anymore, and the strive to emulate that past is a trait highly typical of right wing ideologies. and in totk the past as a great era is an idea presented completely uncritically, the narrative is entirely controlled by the game and doesn’t dwell on any of the inconsistencies in this idea.

now, obviously, not every story in which a great ancient era exists is fascist, right wing or conservative. but to me what’s interesting specifically in totk is this shift between the two games: botw is critical of the past. it’s critical of arrogantly repeating history, it’s critical of having blind faith in great relics of the past. totk isn’t. totk idolizes the past, totk tells legends and tells you to believe them without any doubts. botw believes researchers are those who seek to understand the world, innovate it and solve problems without relying on ancient ways. totk believes researchers are those who discover ancient instructions, ancient ways and relay them to great men in the present to be followed. the four mainline regional quests in botw are about discovering four ancient relics that are terrorising the land and fixing the mistakes of the past. the four mainline regional quests in totk are about discovering four ancient legends are true, and receiving instructions from an ancient sage on what to do.

totk is not simply neutral, it is ideologically conservative in stark contrast to botw, because of the things it chooses to leave uncriticised, notably the things botw was very poignant about examining critically. the way totk redefines what is a researcher is indicative of this, indicative of the way it chooses to idolize or present as an unexamined good that which was nuanced in botw. totk isn’t just conservative in the sense that it presents uncritically a “good king” and “evil conquerer”, it goes deeper, it’s notable because botw was starkly opposed to the thematic axioms totk presents.

i just think it’s very interesting that they made a sequel to botw, and completely redefined or otherwise ignored botw’s thematic core.

[lotus-n-l0ve]

CRIMSON LOVE OF THE CURSED KING

— Ryomen Sukuna x Female Reader

She Is A Wild Flower In A Rose Field.

*⁠.⁠✧ SYNOPSIS : When the selfish merchant, F/N L/N, sacrifices his illegitimate daughter to the King of Curses for his own desires. Y/N starts to work for Sukuna. With every passing day they come closer, with every late night meetings, a feeling develops in their heart.

*⁠.⁠✧ WARNINGS & TAGS : True form!Ryomen Sukuna, historical au, husband!Sukuna, wife!reader, sacrificed!reader, master-servant au, cursing, offering au, use of y/n, kissing, blowjob, pet names, a lot of questions, misunderstanding, ooc!Sukuna, not proofread, 6.2k words.

*⁠.⁠✧ — NAVIGATION // JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST

➥ Heart Divider's by @cafekitsune

DO NOT PRESS [READ MORE] IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE. MINORS DNI, IF YOU DO THEN IT'S YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY.

Amusement is what Sukuna felt as he watched your adorable little figure sneak into the garden like a thief, looking left and right like a cautious cat who has stolen its favourite fish. Sukuna sat by the window on the second floor, blowing from the kiseru.

You still remained a mystery to the King of curses even after months of being here. Sukuna was known for wrecking havoc and destroying lands with a flip of his fingers. Kings and people from far away shiver in fear, when the monster will come for their neck next.

The kings and nobel heads offered him mountains of wealth and copious amounts of women. Sukuna never denied them but what he did with all that wealth or women was never known. To your misfortune or luck, your father, the infamous marchant, offered you, the illegitimate daughter, as the king's concubine. Then it was up to Ryomen Sukuna whether he would make you his queen or just another maid.

You were escorted to the estate in a carriage and then inside the shrine by none other than Uraume themselves. You didn't see nor hear from the king at the beginning of your stay here. Though you were made familiar with the other sacrificed maidens. Their fate was just like yours, sacrificed to the curse by their kings, fathers or even husbands, just to save their own life.

Every one of them was different from others. Some quivered when they even heard the name of their lord, while some were filled with rage for him. On the other hand some had developed the emotion called love for him. You waited everyday for him to decide your fate. It's not like you could run away from here. The estate was surrounded by dangerous curses who would kill you without a second thought.

Your days are spent like any other there. Waking up in the morning, then doing whatever work Uraume assigned you to. You were not still allowed to go outside yet so grocery shopping was not one of them. By the time the sun went down and the moon shone in the dark sky, most of you were permitted to go back to your own room. Only a few remain as per their schedule. You honestly like how your days were going but encountering Sukuna was inevitable.

It was three weeks after that you first came across the man, sitting by the inside pond. His back leaning on a round pillow. One hand held a book while the other had the wooden kiseru. The moonlight blessed down on him. Your feet stopped at the door. As he lifted his upper pair of eyes from the book, yours snapped down to your feet.

"I didn't know you would be here at this time, Master Sukuna. I'll take my leave." You bow down and turn to leave only to come to a halt when a deep voice sounded from behind.

"Stop right there." Sukuna watched as you paused before eventually turning around to face him. Sukuna beckoned you to come closer with two fingers, "Come here."

You walked up to him idly. Sukuna observed you from top to bottom. Just because it didn't seem like it doesn't mean that Sukuna doesn't know what goes on his property. He knew one and every person who worked for him. You were a new face he hadn't seen here before.

You stopped two hands length away from Sukuna, "You needed something, Master Sukuna?"

He hummed, pointing to the low table with his eyes, "Tidy up the table."

You tidied up the thin night kimono you hand on and sat down beside the table. You started with organising the books. Sukuna blew on the kiseru.

"You are new here." It was more of a statement than a question. His upper pair of eyes focused on the inked book but the stare lower pair weighted heavy on you.

You nodded your head, "Yes, Master Sukuna. I was brought here two weeks ago ………as an offering."

Offering huh? More like a sacrificed goat.

Sukuna scoffed inside. Of course this was not new. People of high status kept throwing slaves under Sukuna's feet like they meant nothing. More than half of his servants consisted of those offerings. Now Sukuna himself was not a gentleman, in fact he was far from being a gentleman but even he sometimes felt for their pathetic life. Sukuna would have rather died than being sacrificed for their selfish desires.

"Is that so? So, who were you offered by?"

You could hear the mocking tone lingering under his breath. If he tried to hide that, he did a terrible job but you doubt he was trying to hide it. You could not help but snort as you thought about the one who was behind all this.

"It was my father, Master Sukuna. He's a merchant from the West."

Sukuna saw no traces of sorrow in your expression as you talked about your father. As the matter of fact, your face was numb as if you don't care about him or your circumstances at all.

"You don't seem very upset with your situation." Sukuna carefully closed the book and dropped it in his lap, now just holding the kiseru. His all focus shifted on you and it made you feel a little jittery.

You stacked all the books away thinking to yourself, upset? You were far from that. Rather, you were liking your days here than you ever did at your father's house. Here, no one bore any hatred for you for your background. Your father wasn't here to remind you how much he despised you. Neither was his wife, who felt so jealous of her husband's affairs that she felt the need to torture you at every point of your life. Nor were your half siblings here who like their parents never hesitate to hurt you whether verbally or physically.

Others would call you crazy that you would rather work the vicious monster than your family but the uncountable faded marks littering on your body agreed with you.

You dared to raise your eyes to meet his', "I have no reason to be upset, Master Sukuna." With a small but content smile you put the brushes back in their place, "I am done. Now, may I go back to my chamber, Master Sukuna?"

"Hmm? Yes, you are dismissed." Sukuna waved you away.

You bow down one last time before leaving the room. Sukuna watched as you disappeared into the dark. Usually when people are brought here, they weep and sulk around. It takes them months to get over their pitiful state. And here you were, smiling as if nothing had happened in just two weeks. Nothing could be hidden from the King of curses but he could not figure out the void in your eyes. Too bad, Sukuna loved a worthy challenge.

After that night meeting Sukuna became weirdly frequent with you. When you were in the kitchen, Sukuna would drop by to order someone to bring him snacks. If you were cleaning the shrine, you would see him roaming the halls. If you were mending the garden, from the corner of your eyes, you could see him sitting by the window on the second floor, smoking kiseru or reading books.

But most frequently you met by the pond, where you met for the first time. At night when you could not sleep, your feets would always led you back there unconsciously. First few nights when you saw him, you tried to excuse yourself saying you didn't want to bother him but then he stopped you and let you sit there, just enjoying the view or sometimes reading a book. After some time it became a habit that you came to relish.

Who could have imagined that Ryomen Sukuna could be a comforting company? You two didn't talk but that did not bother either of you. Until one night.

Sukuna sat in his place, leaning on a round pillow, while you sat a little away from him by the table. The thin black kimono you had on did nothing to help you against the cold breeze of night that twirled with your open hair. Maybe, you should have worn something thicker. Your body shivered, goosebumps raising over your skin. As you wrap your arms around yourself, you feil to hear the rustling noise of clothes moving. No long after a black haori was held in front of you.

You followed the hand holding it and saw Sukuna deeply emerged in the book he had been reading from last night. He grumbled without looking up, "Take it. You have been quivering all night like a reed in the wind."

You could feel heat raising up your cheeks in embarrassment. Like a reed in the wind of everything? You muttered a quiet thank you under your breath which was loud enough in the silence of the night and took the warm haori from his hand. You wrap it around yourself and bask in the warmth of the fine fabric. You picked up the paint brush again, twirling it in the red liquid, you started placing strokes on the canvas.

"You are Y/N L/N, illegitimate daughter of F/N L/N." Sukuna commented.

Your hands stopped for a second before resuming to colour the canvas, "Yes, Master."

So he did a background search on you. Not like he needed to. Your father made sure to write a three page letter, singing praises of Sukuna that you handed to Uraume, hoping to find it disposed of in the garbage.

Sukuna chuckled, "Your father really believed that he could get me to be his puppet by giving me his illegitimate daughter?"

You were not sure who those scornful words were for. Your father for being so delusional or you for being a result of a wedlock. You would not put it past him though. He was after all the strongest of them all.

He didn't say anything for the rest of the night as neither did you. It was the dawn when he finally went back to his chember, leaving you for yourself. You waited for the footsteps to get fader before you also organised your things to take back to your room. Your room was on the first floor at the very end of the hallway. You didn't take much time to get ready for the day that was awaiting for you.

Night drawn upon, the moon dominated the night sky along with the millions of stars. You waited by the pond side for Sukuna but he didn't come. This was unusual, he was always here before you but today there was no sign of him. He was in the shrine that's for sure, you yourself delivered his dinner, though he was not in the room at that time.

Without his intense looming presence, you felt empty. Even his silence produced a comforting atmosphere for you which you missed dearly. You waited for him, one hour, two hours that turned into three hours but there was no sight of him. Sukuna was not entitled to work according to you after all you were just a mere peasant to him. But you could not help the disappointment heavy on your heart.

At last you got up with a sigh. Might as well get some sleep instead of dying of boredom. With a lamp in hand you started walking towards the library on the second floor to put the book at its place before going back to sleep. As you walked up the straits, out of nowhere a maiden ran past you, crying. You frowned your eyes wondering what on earth happened.

Standing at the top of the stairs, your eyes fell on the massive door of the master bedroom, where Sukuna resided. Many questions played in your mind. Did something happen to Sukuna? Or did Sukuna do something? You hated to admit but the first question worried you more than any other. Were you okay as long as Sukuna's fine even if it meant someone else's hurt?

You stopped in front of the shoji door, fidgeting with your fingers before you knocked on it twice, "Master Sukuna?"

No answer came from inside so knocked again, calling for him. Seconds later his deep voice answered, permitting you to go in. You took a deep breath before sliding the door open. Entering, you closed the door behind you.

Sukuna sat on the bed, the smoking pipe in his hand as usual. His chest on full display and red silken sheets hiding his lower half. Your eyes, unintentionally, cattled over the black tattoos that were inked on his body, from the smallest on his face to the strips on his chest. For being a monster, Sukuna seemed to be the favourite of God. Like God has centuries to create perfection, to you at least.

"What brought you here?" His lips curled into a smirk.

You quickly averted your eyes when you realised that he had caught you gawking at him like a shameless woman.

You clear your throat, "I-I saw someone running down stairs, crying."

Sukuna's face morphed into an irritated one, "So, you are here to see if I was the one that hurt her?"

"No, I wanted to check if you are okay." By the end of the sentence your voice reduced to mare whispers.

Now that you were saying it out loud, you noticed how ridiculous you sounded. Who on earth can dare or even think about hurting Sukuna. It was next to impossible. Well Sukuna noticed too because he was laughing like you have cracked the best joke of the century. You might have as well.

"Since you appear to be perfectly fine I'll take my leave. Good night, Master Sukuna." You were rushing out even before you could finish the sentence.

The door slammed shut behind you as Sukuna listened to footsteps running down the stairs, almost tripping on the last step. Sukuna wiped tears away from the corner of his eyes.

"O dear Y/N." Sukuna mumbled as he took a puff of kiseru, "You think that puny creature can land even a scratch on me?"

Though she knew how to piss him off real well. Sukuna thought back to the events that took place in his bedroom before you appeared. Sukuna wanted some good cunt to take out his frustration on. Like usual, Uraume made the arrangements.

Sukuna got up from the bathtub, water gliding down his muscular body. Quickly he wrapped a towel around his waist while he used another one to dry his hair. Sukuna was annoyed to say the least. Maybe he had gone quite soft nowadays because otherwise where do these peasants get the audacity to think that they can use Ryomen Sukuna?

Past days have been good for Sukuna. The reason? He has no idea. Or maybe it's those late night meetings with a curtain someone that kept his mood better. After all he anticipated the time when everyone would go to sleep and you would stumble upon the sitting area beside the indoor pond.

Your hair was always open, covering over your back. They always tempt him to just run his hands through them. He'd to clench his palms to not give in to his intrusive thoughts. Are you waiting for him tonight as well? How long will you wait for him? Are you thinking about him? Do you think about him like he does about you?

Sukuna walked into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed before finally addressing the girl who was kneeling on the ground a few metres away from. Her head was bent as ordered.

"Are you just going to sit like a useless doll?" Sukuna threw away the towel he was using to dry his hair, "Crawl on your knees here, pet."

Sukuna patted on his left thigh as two of his hands supported him as he leaned back a little. The kneeling girl got on all fours and started crawling towards him. Her back arched a little too much, putting her boobs and ass on show through the sheer kimono. She got between spreaded legs, sitting on the floor. She looked up at him with a cy smile as she slid her hands up his thighs.

She grabbed the hem of his towel and tied the knot, pulling it off. Cold air hit his two dicks making them twitch. The girl took one dick in her hand, giving him long strokes and giving kitty licks on the moist tip.

Sukuna grabbed a fistful of her hair, "What are you waiting for? Do what you came here to do."

Sukuna shoved his dick in her mouth, making her gag for life. She quickly calmed herself and started bobbing her head up and down. She hollowed the inside of her mouth, taking all in. Her small hands stroked the other one, giving them both the same amount of pleasure.

Sukuna threw his head back, groaning, as her tongue traced the throbbing vein wrapped around his cock. Images flashed in Sukuna's mind. Images of you kneeling between his legs instead of this no name girl. How good you would look taking his cocks like the good slut you were. Your mouth would puff up with his cook while your hands would work on his other one.

"F-fuck……. So good, you goddamn slut." His grip tightened as the thrusts became rougher and rougher. His red tips hitting the back of her throat. Tears swelled in her eyes in pain and pleasure.

"Y/N…… Y-Y/N, princess." His eyes rolled back as his hot cum shot in her mouth and chest. His hands released her hair, glancing down, disappointment filled inside him as he saw another girl instead of you.

"Master Sukuna, Who the hell is Y/N? I am Ayame." The girl cried out, "How could you call me by another girl's name?"

Her loud cries added to his annoyance. Before she could understand, Sukuna had grabbed her jaw in a tight grip, sneering at her, "Listen here you bitch, you are just a mare whore to satisfy me. Don't even try to cross your lines. You are nothing but a toy for me to play with, even that, you can't do right." He jerked her away, "Now scram."

She didn't need to be told twice. Her admiration for the king had clouded her mind, that she forgot his true nature. He was a notorious monster, not some prince charming. In a blink of an eye she was running for her room, completely ignoring the girl on the stairs.

Sukuna sighed, shaking his head. Too much drama in one day. At least your flustered face was worth it.

Water showered from the watering can on the flower plants in the garden. You carefully watered every plant. It was early morning, you wanted to finish before the sun hovered over the head and dried them dead. As you came to an end, you saw something rushed past from the corner of your eyes. It was so fast that you almost missed it.

You dropped the can on the ground and marched up to the bush that it hid behind. Parting the leaves, you came across possibly the most beautiful bunny you have ever seen with the most beautiful white fur.

"O my gosh! You baby." You gushed over it but that only seemed to scare it more as you saw it stepping back in fear. You saw the white fur on its left back leg wet with blood, "Don't worry you poor little thing, I won't hurt you."

You slowly brought your hand over it's head to pet but the second your hand was about to touch it, it sprinted off in the jungle behind the shrine.

"Come on, don't run away from me." You shouted as you ran behind the rabbit.

But it didn't stop, going farther into the forest and you ran behind it without any idea of direction. You don't know how long you ran for but soon your legs gave out and you found yourself slumping down under a tree, out of breath. Minutes passed before your racing heart came to a steady pace. You looked around and reality hit you hard. You had absolutely no idea where on earth you were.

You got up from the ground and started walking from the way you came from. It was half an hour when you finally accepted that you were lost. Panic bubbled in your heart. There was only high greenery wherever you looked. Not a single idea what way you came from.

Damn you bunny! And damn you stupid Y/N!

But you didn't stop. You walked and walked till the forest became dark and the moon came up. Everything around you had covered itself into black. Big shapes taking the forms of the terrific monsters. Goosebumps arised all over your body, in cold and fear. Ironic. You feel comfortable with the King of Curses but here you are, getting scared of silhouette. Your steps got wobbly and slow.

À rustling noise came from a bush and that injured rabbit hopped out of it. You shriek in fear, stepping back without seeing and before you know you are falling down the slope. Your body rolled down on the ground, twigs scratching and digging in your skin and all you could do was cry in pain. At the bottom you slammed on to a tree. You felt like all the air had left your lungs.

Tears burned your eyes and sobs erupted from you uncontrollably. With the help of hands, you brought yourself up to rest your back on the tree. Blood ran down from the cut on your forehead. Your body was aching for some rest, fighting for its life to stay away. You felt utterly hopeless.

Will anyone even notice that you've disappeared from the shrine? Will Sukuna notice that you didn't go to the usual meeting spot tonight? It's as if you had gone back to those days in your father's house. Where no one loved you but everyone loved to take their anger out on. At the crack of dawn when you went back to your little room, your body would feel like hell with all the new marks added on your skin.

When your father disclosed the news that you would be offered to Sukuna as a peace offering, you didn't feel an ounce of surprise. You had already accepted your misery. Maybe it was the result of your previous life's sin that you would meet your end by Ryomen Sukuna. But what shocked you was that your life with the cursed king was thousand times better than you had back home. Though you aren't sure if you could call that home.

Sukuna may be known for his cruelty but you would not think twice if you were told to worship him, consider him your god. He was your god. You could live your whole life being his loyal priestess. But what does he think about you? Are you as important to him as he is to you? Or are you just a toy for his entertainment? Well play toys are replaceable. Like the girl from the previous night, he's got many.

Your eyelids became heavy and the dizziness hovered in your mind. Much to your resistance, the world around you disappeared and your body slumped against the tree, unconscious.

Back in the shrine heavy footsteps thud on the wooden floor, Sukuna's huge body moved down the dimmy hallway, eyes glaring into nothing. Behind him, Uraume followed with a poker face but a storm was going inside their head. Sukuna stopped at the end of the hallway and threw the door open that slammed against the hall. Few panicked screams came from other rooms but Sukuna paid no mind to it.

His jaw clenched as he found the room empty, no sign of you being there. His eyes flared in anger and hidden disappointment. So, you finally resorted to running away? Was your life that bad here? Or did you just hate him that much? Sukuna doesn't remember doing anything that will lead to taking this kind of step.

"Uraume." His voice roared in the hallway, "Since when is she missing?"

"We noticed her absence this afternoon, Master Sukuna."

Sukuna threw them a glare, "And why was I not informed?"

"You ordered us to let her do anything she wants so we didn't pay much attention there." Uraume looked down, ashamed, "I'm sorry, Master."

"If I don't find her, you'll be more than sorry." Sukuna grunted before walking past them.

Soon there was a crowd of curses in the manor. Sukuna ordered every one of them to find you before sunrise and inform him. Sukuna sat on the throne, waiting for any news of you as he reminisced over the moments you two spent together. When he first saw you standing on the doorway, moonlight made you glow. You reminded him of that myth, moon princess.

Or those times where you showed no fear, hatred or disgust for him. When you saved the best looking fruit to serve him yourself every night. When you coloured the blank canvas with his palette. Those nights when you dominated his dreams, from the filthiest to the fluffiest. When you looked at him with nothing but pure affection that made his heart flutter. Then why? Just why did you run away?

The door opened and Uraume hurried inside, "Master Sukuna, they have found Ms. Y/N."

In an instant Sukuna was out of the door and into the woods led by Uraume. Questions played in his mind. What state were you in? Were you okay? Were you hurt? Did any stupid curse spirit attack you? Uneasiness filled him from inside the more he went deeper into the woods. How far have you gone?

At last he caught the gimpels of your slumped body. Sukuna crouched down in front of you, sliding off the strands stuck to your sweaty forehead only to realise that you've fainted. His eyes ran over your wounded body, at that moment he wanted to punish you for putting yourself in this position more than anything.

Silently, Sukuna slid one hand under your knees and one underneath your back and picked you up. Sukuna went back to the shrine with you in his arms.

When your eyes opened, an unfamiliar ceiling came to your view, too fancy to be your room. You frowned your eyebrows. What were you doing here? Then everything hit you from the previous day. You were not in the forest. That meant that someone had found you and brought you back here. Who was it?

You sat up on the soft bed, letting the blanket rest around your waist. Looking around, your eyes fell on the man sitting on the tatami mat with his back turned to you. His huge build and pink hair, hard to not notice. So he's the one who saved you? Again?

Your heart swelled up in happiness. Was he worried about you? Has he personally gone out to look for you? Did he miss you?

"Master Sukuna?" You called before you could understand. His back visibly stiffened but he remained still. Did he not hear you? You call him again but this time he roughly stood up and left the room. Confused is what you were with his actions. You wondered if you did something wrong. Seconds after he left, Uraume entered with a tray in hand.

They placed the tray on your lap, "Ms. Y/N, please drink some warm soup. You'll feel better."

Uraume said and took a seat beside the futon, on the tatami mat. Just as you were about to refuse, your belly rumbled embarrassingly loud. In the embarrassed silence, you picked up a little bit of steaming soup in the spoon, blowing on it and then drinking it.

You noticed that you were not feeling any kind of pain and there were no cuts or bruises on your body. After that fall you were sure that you would have at least one broken bone.

Uraume saw you inspecting your arms and they answered your unasked question, "Master Sukuna healed you."

You muttered a soft 'hmm' and silence engulfed you again. It was awkward, especially because the all put together Uraume was fidgeting with their sleeves.

You kept the tray aside with the empty soup bowl, "What is it, Uraume-san? You look anxious."

Uraume dropped their head on the floor, "Have we done something wrong that you had to take this kind of step? If so, please punish us."

Their sudden action sent you into panic mode, "Wait wait wait, What do you mean?"

"Master Sukuna is deeply hurt by your attempt to run away. Please don't punish him for our mistakes." Uraume answered.

Run away?

You threw off the blanket and grabbed them by their shoulders, bringing them up, "Uraume-san, I am confused. When did I try to run away?"

The next words that came out of Uraume's mouth sent you in a spiral. How they misunderstood you going missing. They also mentioned how hurt and angry Sukuna was. That explains his attitude just now.

You palmed your mouth, "O my lord! That's… um.... it's not, where is Master Sukuna? I've to clear this misunderstanding."

You ran out of the room, ignoring Uraume's shouting to not strain yourself. The first place you looked for him was the library where he spent most of his day, drowning himself in the poetic world of other's imagination. Unfortunately it was empty but there was a pile of books left on the table as if someone had tried so hard to read but just couldn't concentrate.

Next was the throne room but it also devoid any sign of him. Where could he be? What place would he go to? Then it clicked. That place. Where you first met him. Where you enjoyed the serene silence of the night. Where you slowly but surely fell for him. The indoor pond.

As you neared the place, muffled voices became clear. Deep raspy voice of you King and a higher pitched feminine voice.

"............. Please Master, I've surrendered myself to you. Why can't you see my love?" Tears streamed down Ayame's porcelain cheeks as she stared at Sukuna's back. Even while sitting down he almost towered over her petite figure.

Sukuna grunted, feeling irritated but otherwise decided to ignore her existence. If it was any other time, she already would have been sliced into million pieces. But at the moment, neither he had any wish nor any energy to put someone in their place.

The whole night Sukuna spent staying by your side and healing your wounds. In the process he discovered all the fading marks on your body when the maid changed you out of that dirty attire and onto a more comfortable blue one. Sukuna had a faint idea who might be the cause of those bruises. Of course who else other than that greedy bastard of your father.

It took every fibre in his body to not go on rampage and find that fucker. Sukuna wanted to give him the slowest and the most dreadful death anyone could even think of. But patience is the key to a satisfying result.

"Master Sukuna, that girl doesn't even love you. She didn't think twice before pulling that stunt."

Sukuna groaned in annoyance. Can't this girl just shut up for once. Ayame knew that she was crossing the line or may have crossed it long ago, it might cost her her life but today was her chance. If she could show him just how much she loved him and deserved his love, she might get to be with him for eternity. She could turn into a damn cannibalistic curse for him.

She gulped down the fear and approached him, "I love you, Master Sukuna, way more than that ungrateful girl could ever—"

Just as she was about to place her hand on his shoulder, a pair of hands grabbed her wrist in a painful fist. The huge one belonged to Sukuna while the one underneath his was much more skinny to be his. Both Sukuna and her eyes followed it and they saw you standing there but you were only looking at Sukuna. He instantly withdrew his hand back and got up, standing at the edge of the pond.

You jerked her hand off, "I do not appreciate anyone talking bad about me behind my back."

"You've got some nerves to say that after the atrocious stunt that you have pulled the night before." Ayame gritted words out between her teeth.

"Don't act so over smart. You don't even know what actually happened. I would never……" Your voice softened, "I can never do that."

Ayame scoffed, "You think anyone will believe your bullshit? If you really didn't try to run away then what were you doing that deep into the forest?"

"I don't owe you any explanation, whoever you may be."

"I'm Ayame—"

"I don't want to know." You ignored her fuming face and walked up to Sukuna instead, "Master Sukuna—"

"Ayame." Her face lit up with hope as Sukuna called her name but that soon turned into disappointment with his next words, "Get out."

Ayame took her leave with an already broken heart. Sukuna went back to being silent again, giving you a chance to explain yourself. You wait for the door to close and give you the much needed privacy but that never happened. You ignored that too.

"Master Sukuna, I didn't try to run away, it's a big misunderstanding." You explained everything, each and every small detail but you were not sure if he even believed you.

His back still faced you, Sukuna remained silent for some time before finally saying something to you, "Why should I believe you? For all I know all this might just be an excuse from you so that I don't kill you."

Sukuna's mouth worked without any thoughts, "Maybe you really intended to get as far away from me as possible. All this time that you spent with me was to make me let my guard down. I was shocked when you said that you aren't scared of me, that might have been a lie too right?......."

It hurt you to see him doubt you and your unspoken relationship. As you tried to interrupt him, his bombarding voice stopped you. Even you were starting to feel frustrated with the situation. At last you let frustration take over you.

In just three steps you were standing in front of the king of curses. You wrapped your arms around his thick neck and got on tiptoes, then your lips crushed on his rough ones. Sukuna didn't react instantly but then his stiff body relaxed. He reciprocated the kiss with much more passion. A hand tangled with your open hair while another rested on the middle of your back. Two hands wrapped around your waist and rested on you ass.

His tongue explored every corner of your mouth. Your hand sneaked up on the nape of his neck and twisted in his pink hair. Sukuna moved, taking you along with him and you followed blindly. Then you felt yourself falling and hitting the cold water of the pond.

You yelped in surprise, "Master Sukuna!"

Your fingers dug on the fabric over his shoulder in death grip. Sukuna kept a firm hold around your waist as he removed the hair on your face that was blocking his view. Water clung to him, making him appear more appealing than ever.

"You cannot live without me?" Sukuna said as his lips curled up in a smirk, using your earlier said words to tease you.

However the smirk was wiped off his face the next second when instead of shying away, you pulled him close till your breast was squeezed against his chest, "I, the loyal servant of the King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna, can not live or even think of living without my King."

"You are getting bolder these days." Sukuna whispered under his breath and you reciprocated it with, "The effect of you, my King."

Sukuna wasted no time devouring your lips in his. Both soaking wet from the water, you let yourself be lost in each other, exploring each other's body. Clothes shredded, bodies entangled, and two cursed souls became one. Ayame stood outside, her back leaning against the wall as tears streamed down her cheeks and neck. Maybe she truly didn't deserve him.

Thus began the crimson love of the cursed king, Ryomen Sukuna.

"Come here baby, I brought you your favourite fruit, peaches." Sukuna watched as your kneeling form gushed over the white rabbit who hopped out from behind the tree, taking the peach and feasting on it without any care, "Eat fast before anyone sees you here."

It was the same injured one that had caused chaos in your life months ago. You found it wandering in the garden after that passionate night when you gave yourself completely to Sukuna. Sukuna sometimes wonders whether he should let you know that he already knows about him. But seeing you hop around, scared of him finding out is too entertaining.

"Y/N!" Sukuna called from the second floor.

"Bye bye baby." You shoo-ed the bunny away in fear. Sukuna could barely suppress the laugh as you sprinted inside the shrine, "Yes, Master Sukuna, I'm coming."

Yeah, he definitely should not.

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© 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to LOTUS-N-L0VE. do not plagiarise any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.

[artist-ellen]

Historical mermay Prompt 8: Meiji Era -> Aztec Mermaid (Tlanchana)

So the last prompt for Historical Mermay was supposed to be Meiji era but.... last year there was a historical Japanese mermaid and a late Victorian mermaid so.... I decided to switch this one out with a different historical mermaid that had been on my list.

Aztec mythology has a mermaid-like figure, which is very exciting for me, but there's a full backstory so strap in for some lore. The origin for Tlanchana isn't Aztec at all, but instead originates from an Otomi goddess called Acpaxapo. Acpaxapo is a benevolent lake goddess who is half woman, half water-serpent. When she was adopted by the Aztecs her aspect evolved to Tlanchana, a much more mysterious and dangerous deity who would drown men with her tail.

I had hoped to make some more references to the original Otomi influence in my illustration but I was having a devil of a time looking for specifically Otomi artifacts (Otomi is technically a collection of languages and is an exonym for the peoples who speak Otomi languages ((if I've even understood what I 'm reading correctly))...and English websites barely cover the big 3) so I eventually pivoted, since I haven't done any siren-like mermaids for this challenge yet and was interested in doing something a little moodier. A description of Tlanchana described her as wearing only jewels and that sparked a lot of creative joy. And looking at all the jade ornaments in pre-colonial jewelry.... I dove right in. I kept a very serpent-like design for her tail, and made all her ornaments in jade... a series of necklaces, her nose jewelry (which I took some creative liberty with after looking at goddess depictions), and ear plugs. I wouldn't say she is accurate, there's a lot of artistic license salt in this stew... but I think she turned out pretty cool.

(And if you just had the thought that this is the most i have written in a description for ages... it's because this one had... new? research. Example: I've drawn redesigns with Ottoman fashion 3+ times, I don't have much new to say for the Ottoman mermaid. I've talked and researched a lot less on Aztec mythology so I had things to say.)

I am the artist! Do not post without permission & credit! Thank you! Come visit me over on: instagram, tiktok or check out my coloring book available now \ („• ֊ •„) /

https://linktr.ee/ellen.artistic

[beggars-opera]

Ok, so I live in one of the more liberal areas of the country. Our governor is a lesbian and I literally did not even know until after she got elected, because it was that much of a nonissue.

Lately, I'm seeing more and more local institutions doing things for Pride. Institutions that don't necessarily have to, or do so awkwardly, but they're trying to be good allies. And, even here, I see people foaming at the mouth. This thing is ruined. Unprofessional. Political. Sexual. Boycotting, disgusted, bye.

And a part of me is like, "Why would a random store, a museum, a restaurant, do this?" Part of my mind has been so corrupted by the idea of rainbow capitalism that the thought of someone just...trying to be an imperfect ally is a cash grab.

It's not. Every bit counts, and especially as we see pushback, and see some of those corporations beginning to rethink their rainbow capitalism, the places that continue to speak up are so, so important.

I'm reminded of a rant by Illustrious Old White Man Historian Gordon Wood a few years back where he lamented how fragmented modern history is. Why do we need ANOTHER book about women, about enslaved people, about the poor? Why are we focusing on these people instead of George Mount Rushmore Washington?

And it was an interesting framing, because he insinuated that these micro histories were bad not because they existed, but because they didn't give the whole story, which in Gordon's mind was a story in which they were the side characters instead of the mains. To that end a biography of G Wash that features the bare shadow of Billy Lee in the far distance is a complete history, all that needs to be said, because one of those figures is a God Amongst Men and the other does not deserve to be fully fleshed out as a full, autonomous human being with a family and a profession and a beating heart. And a biography of William Lee, war aid, professional valet, and person closest to the first president of the United States, with the shadow of George in the background, would consequently be Bad History, because no one is saying that this man didn't exist, but his story isn't the whole story. It's backwards; he should be a footnote, and if he's not, that's bias.

But for me, as a historian, I know that the reason these microhistories exist, and are so important, is that they didn't exist before. Before someone can be truly, purposefully, tactfully inserted into the historical narrative, you need to know who they are. Not just as a name, not just as an archetype. You have to get to the point where there are so many books flooding the market about women and children and immigrants that it's no longer controversial to be talking about them, where learning about them instead of someone else is normal.

THEN you can feel good about rewriting the more general narrative. THEN you can actually have the information you need in order to put things into their proper context, to rethink the most important figure in each story, to assess what the full milieu of the time is.

And that's where we're at with Pride. We are still very much living in a time where queer people are shadow characters in the background. They are people that many will admit exist, but for god's sake, don't make them important, don't make them real, don't make them normal. And until we can shove rainbows down everyone's throats to the point where being queer is no longer seen as a thing that is Other, until we convince people that we're not going away, we will never be able to fully assimilate queerness into society.

We can't just be normal about Pride, because normal isn't loud enough to not get drowned out.

[danmei-confessions]

I think we should talk about Wu Zetian, China’s only female emperor, who historically has been regarded as a horrible and brutal leader.

She was born a commoner, became a concubine to one emperor, married his son and then took the role of emperor for herself when he died. She was politically adept, highly ambitious and extraordinarily intelligent.

History has accused her of smothering her newly born daughter and blaming a rival for her death. She had that rivals hands and feet cut off and then had her thrown into a vat of wine in which she was left to drown. She gouged out another rivals eyes and had acid poured down her throat. She wiped out 12 entire branches of a clan. She poisoned her mother. Just how accurate these things are is up for debate, but while these things might not all be true, she certainly did have several family members killed. And she did deal with her rivals and her detractors ruthlessly. Yet none of these things would have attracted criticism if she had been a man. She was no more scandalous than any other ruler during that time period.

But! Her rule was peaceful and prosperous. She avoided wars and welcomed ambassadors from as far away as the Byzantine empire. She changed laws so common people could be chosen for roles in government for their abilities rather than their name or status. She acknowledged and acted on criticisms from her retainers. She built watchtowers along the Silk Road so merchants wouldn’t be harrowed by bandits. Her reign saw women given more freedom(the ability to divorce, hold government positions, travel, hunt and ride horses, to be recognized by scholars).

She supported Buddhism and helped the religion spread and grow through commissioning temples, monasteries, and even a statue of the Buddha said to be carved in her own likeness. In the eyes of the common people, she likely would have been an incredibly popular ruler.

She remains a controversial figure primarily because of stories about her personal actions against her rivals by male Confucian officials who were prejudiced against strong and ambitious women and while they undoubtedly exaggerated aspects of Wu’s life, there is still substantial verifiable evidence of her ruthlessness.

We should also be aware that although she allegedly held her power through murder and merciless, according to Confucian philosophy, ‘while an emperor should not be condemned for acts that would be crimes in a subject, he should be judged harshly for allowing the state to fall into anarchy’ and viewed under this lens, Wu did effectively fulfill her duties as a ruler.

So we have a leader of ancient china who had two faces, one who committed acts of vile cruelty against her family and rivals and one who gave her citizens peace and prosperity.

Through a modern lens she can be viewed as an evil woman who rose from humble beginnings and coldly and calculatingly murdered her way into arguably the most powerful position in the world. A rich woman who threw crumbs to her peasant people while she lived luxuriously. She is a deadly woman, a black widow, an evil stepmother, a kinslayer. But according to historians, “without Wu there would have been no long enduring Tang dynasty and perhaps no lasting unity of China.”

The comparison to a modern mr beast obviously doesn’t hold water, but we can certainly analyze jgy to a more comparable historical figure and argue more accurately in a historical context if jgy was a good leader as the de facto emperor as the cultivation worlds Xiāndū.

It’s easy to see the comparisons between Wu and jgy, both were undesirable and deemed unfit by society. But both were politically adept, highly ambitious and extraordinarily intelligent. Both had family members murdered, perhaps sharing between them filicide. Both had a clans murdered to a man. Both are thought to have had their faces carved on religious relics for their narcissistic pleasure. Both had watchtowers built as a defense for their people. And both were torn down by the men following after them, vilified and distorted. Both forever destined to be speculated upon and misunderstood. Both of their legacy’s destroyed by rumor and falsification. It would not surprise me in the slightest if mxtx didn’t draw on Wu at least a little bit in the creation of jgy. Both Wu and jgy are culpable for some pretty heinous stuff, that can’t be denied. But like Wu, jgy also has a second face.

Moral bias and character motivation aside, his efforts to build watchtowers, his patronage of religion in the building of Guanyin temple, his fight against political corruption, his years long peaceful reign, his charity, all these things lead to the conclusion that under the rule of Confucian, he more than aptly fulfilled his role as a leader for his citizens.

And if you really want to look at Jgys leadership through a modern lens, we really don’t have to look much further than Ingersoll. “If you want to find out what a man is to the bottom, give him power.”

And really that’s part of the tragedy of his character. Because of his background he excelled when he was in a role of leadership. He was good at it.

Whether or not jgy as a literary character is a good person, is subjective and should not be used to measure his role as an effective leader.

All of that being said, jgy is my bestfriend and I love him and would I die for him.

.

[qqueenofhades]

re your tags on that last post, you could say he was...biden his time

BA DUMP TSHH.

I think that everyone, having gotten through the initial 24 hours of rage, fear, terror, confusion, anger, and frustration, is coming around to the idea that this was possibly a good thing and has undoubtedly given the Democratic ticket a much-needed jolt of energy. There are still all the very valid conversations to be had about the sway of a tiny group of billionaire donors, the media and Anonymous Democratic Sources bullying, the decision to torch Biden when they could so easily (so! easily!!!) have done it to Trump at any time and have clearly decided to go FULLY into the tank for him instead. This has many worrisome implications for democracy, and it's not something to be celebrated. All of that is still very much true.

However, now that we have had concrete evidence of the party immediately cohering around Kamala and the grassroots donors busting down the door to give her money, it may also turn out that this was a very wise political jiu-jitsu move by a very crafty political veteran like Biden. As the post I just reblogged pointed out, he did it AFTER the GOP convention, when the Republicans had already locked in (by any reasonable metric) a terrible, terrible ticket. It makes the Democrats look like the ones responsive to the American people demanding a younger and more mentally "with it" candidate (no matter how obvious the slurs about ageism were in regard to Biden when Trump is literally THREE YEARS YOUNGER and far more obviously scrambled). It opens all the excitement and historic firsts of Obama in 2008, it gives the perfect "Prosecutor vs. Felon" tagline that's really easy to run with and stick in people's minds, it is beautiful revenge for all Trump's horrible sexist behavior in 2016 (and really, his whole life) and it gives the Democrats the narrative, if they can FUCKING STICK TOGETHER AND STOP STABBING EACH OTHER IN THE BACK. Now we get to hear about Kamala's running mate, Kamala's plans, feel-good pieces about how she appeals to youth, women/people of color, etc. etc. ALL THAT IS GOOD.

I think/hope the DNC will now be a massive celebration of Biden, who after all came out of retirement when he was already old to take on Trump, beat him, deliver an incredibly successful presidency, and pass the torch on to Kamala. I saw some criticism of Obama yesterday for not endorsing her immediately, but what I read is that he/the other Democratic big beasts (Pelosi, Schumer, etc) want to be a uniting figure with an endorsement of the final candidate, if there was a contested primary beforehand. Thank fuck, it doesn't look like there will be, but it also means that they might wait until the DNC before openly endorsing her. Now, I am still angry at the Biden knifing that all these three were complicit in to some degree, BUT I also have no doubt that if/when Kamala is confirmed as the nominee, they will line up behind her to endorse her and her VP pick. I have seen Mark Kelly, Roy Cooper, etc as possible picks (since alas, she will probably have to pick a straight white man; Kelly would be replaced in the Senate by Democratic AZ governor Katie Hobbs; Cooper is term-limited as governor in NC and might help us target that state for a flip). But what is number one most important is that we support her and whoever she DOES choose. I have also heard that she is already in the process of vetting picks and this is exciting news.

I am thrilled to vote for a woman for POTUS the second time in a few years, I think she has a real shot at winning, and I am heartened by how the base has rallied to Kamala in 24 hours. Let's fucking go. As my new office decoration says:

[royal-wren]

In honor of Pride, I'm going to list a few Hellenic deities to think of more actively during this time

Aphrodite: Historically known to be intersex and trans, especially under the name Aphroditos. Not to mention as a goddess of love, that means all kinds of love and expressions of it. Everyone in the LGBT+ umbrella can turn to her without worry.

Apollon: He is known for epithets like the Unshorn, and for literally wearing feminine clothing for the time.

Artemis: Known for embracing masculinity and more masculine traits like her interests, mannerisms, and appearance (attire). Also known to be aro/ace spec.

Athene: Most know her to lean more toward masculinity, but she's more an equal mix of both masculine and feminine (nonbinary by human terms). Also known to be aro/ace spec and wlw as well.

Dionysos: Like Apollon, is known for wearing feminine clothing for the time and occasionally a feminine appearance to match. Embracing the unconventional and what lies outside of society's standards and mentalities is his thing, and it shows with epithets like Androgynos.

Hekate: A goddess of the liminal (everything in between), boundaries, and transitions, of paths and crossroads (which are more than physical ones).

Hera: As a goddess of women, that includes every kind of woman no matter what, there is no room to try and exclude anyone from that. She's also a goddess of marriage and one to lean on for rights on that matter.

Hermes: A god of the liminal, the god of transitions, boundaries, paths, and roads, and a god of romantic unions, the god of fire - the literal and figurative sparks that ensue as a god of friction, a weigher of love like Aphrodite. Before the late Classical and Hellenistic periods was also known to be aro/ace spec as outside of cultic unions, a majority of his immortal (and deity) children are goddesses as well, and he has two nonbinary (one intersex) children, Palaistra and Hermaphroditos, and occasionally the father of Eros either by Aphrodite or Artemis (and no this is real, you're just not ready for this conversation on this information).

Leto: In worship, she has the cult epithet Phystiê (the Grafter) that relates to a myth of her helping Leukippe transition at the wishes of his mother to avoid death. With the grafter epithet, she has a festival in her honor, Ekdysia (Stripping (Festival)). One of her sacred animals is the Ichneumon (Egyptian Mongoose), which was known to be both male and female in an individual member of the species.

Palaistra: The goddess of wrestling and daughter of Hermes is nonbinary, being both genders at once and neither at the same time

The Erotes: It kind of goes without saying that they should be here for a month of love, identity, and acceptance.

The Kharites: As goddesses of joy, merriment, and festivity/celebration, it feels as essential to have them here as the Erotes are. During Pride, they will lift your spirits and cause you to cheer.

[shorthaltsjester]

god i cannot stop thinking about how much of the struggle with the gods and mortals in downfall is like “if we created these people we are also responsible for them” and a lot of the mess and betrayal that exists is disagreements over what responsibility requires - is it responsibility to abandon a horrid creation? is it responsibility to treat them as if they do not and cannot know any better?

except, unlike all the other deities, the matron of ravens did not have a hand in creating exandria and it’s mortals, and in fact is the only one who had open eyes to the degree of responsibility implicit in her role. and as with all the gods her idea of responsibility is different than all of her siblings’, but i also think there’s an honesty (albeit a very uh . hubris charged honesty - said with deep love for the epitome of weirdo archmages who managed to ascend to godhood) in the way that we see emhira treat mortals as fully in control to such a degree that the gods are founded in their defence of themselves and other mortals from the selfishness of aeor. like her fantastic response to aydin’s claim that they can show the aeorians better by reminding him, dad, that these mortals aren’t scared they’re hating and if you stop them this time but leave behind the knowledge to repeat it, they Will repeat it.

and i mean we still don’t know the true depths of the matron of raven’s reasons for ascending nor do we know the willingness of the previous god of death but there is something so compelling to me that, on top of being the only god who has truly known mortality who Chose to look after the domain that promises the end that affirms mortality, the matron of ravens is not a Creator of mortals the way that other gods are but she might have a deeper or more poignant kind of responsibility for them because she is the one who had the most complete image of what godhood would look like versus the bundles of light that stumbled into the real and found and grasped at whatever purpose they could.

matron of ravens already like . top three exandrian historical figures of all time and laura bailey is doing insane things in the critical role downfall three part special that are ruining my life.

[ericsprincess]

until you overflow

nc-17, Na Jaemin/Reader, historical au, queen!yn, war prize!jaemin, mildly dubious consent, cunnilingus, penetration, breeding kink

~~~

You need an heir. 

~~~

“I already SAID, I am NOT going to do this now,” you spoke through your gritted teeth, holding yourself back the best way you could to not smash your fist on the table out of anger. The atmosphere in the room was tense, and yet the scene was all too familiar for everyone. 

"B-but you need an heiress! Your highness, the war is over so now we should focus on important internal affairs, one of which is ensuring the succession!" scuttered one of the ministers, a capable, but also an extremely annoying woman with a particular penchant for bureaucracy. One of those people who never knows when to stop, whether they mean well or not. 

“The war is over and we should focus on repairing what it ruined first, don’t you think?” you replied sarcastically, but the minister as if she were deaf to your tone. 

“But..what if something happens to you? We need to have the security of an heiress! The people need it, it will boost the morale of the entire nation too!”

And this was already going on for 20 minutes. For the third time just this week. 

Thankfully, this useless exchange was interrupted when one of your highest advisors, an ancient noble lady, an advisor of your mother before she was yours, stepped out, essentially ending the bickering. 

“Your highness, there is still the..new war prize. You surely know which one I mean,” the advisor bowed deep in front of you. “He seems very strong. He could give our queendom many heiresses. It would silence many mouths, not only about the ones talking about you, but also those that are raising concerns about his future and purpose. Please consider that.” she spoke and retreated back amongst the others.  

Of course you knew which one she meant. Ever since the moment he was brought by your army, and as a part of war prize paraded around the capital to be finally thrown to kneel at your feet, he’s been the talk of the entire country. There were many captives brought in that day, but this one, as if he had put the spell on our entire country. All the men and women alike were marveling at his beauty, mouths hanging open with fingers pointing at that one, do you see that one? as the procession of soldiers and captives and carriages full of gold was passing through the capital city towards the Queen’s Palace. People soon started spreading eyewitness accounts and half-truths as well, even sharing made-up stories how he was so strong and raging that he almost fought off an entire squad of your soldiers before he was captured, how they had to bring him bound in thick iron chains and muzzled, a beautiful, but rabid beast. 

Most of that was not true. As far as the generals’ report that was handed to you said, he was ambushed while he was quietly traveling on his horse alone on a forest path, and went willingly, with a smile. He just let himself get captured, even shooting a joke or two, greeting his captors goodnaturedly like old friends. However, under his plain clothes, your soldiers found out he was armed up to the teeth.

They tried to interrogate him, but even after hours, no one was able to figure out where he came from and where he was going. He spoke with an accent not native to the conquered kingdom, so he clearly wasn’t a local citizen, but refused to prove his ties to another country to avoid being taken as a war captive. Nothing about his clothes or things he had on him specified anything. He provided his name when asked, but it was a simple, plain name, very common in any country around, so no one even believed it’s real. 

So they just followed the orders and just like any other captive, they brought him to the palace to have his fate decided there, and most court people half-expected you would have him publicly executed, as a statement and also just to simply get rid of the potential threat. They threw him at your feet, and he didn’t beg for his life as everyone expected he would. He raised his head from where he was kneeling, dirty with hands tied behind his back, but said nothing and only smiled at you, before dropping his head back down. The crowd gasped at the audacity of him daring to even lay his eyes on their Queen and immediately started whispering, everyone expecting you would immediately order your guards to have his head cut off, bloodthirsty atmosphere rising in the hall.

But you didn’t want to. You have learnt years ago, by necessity, to have no qualms or hesitation about ending an unworthy life, but something drawn you to him. You couldn’t tell what, but you didn’t want to kill him, at least not before he would give you an actual reason. You didn’t want to waste his life, just for the fleeting enjoyment of the masses. You wouldn’t have admitted it, not even to yourself at that time, but you were also intrigued.

You couldn’t decide and you ended up stalling, staring at the back of his head that was hung between his shoulders, with his forehead almost touching the cold marble of the throne room as he was slumped on his knees. The throne room was completely silent, everyone waited with bated breaths for the verdict.

Then a sharp pain in your rib woke you up from your stupor. You startled and looked at the source - your closest court lady, who was until now only standing at her usual place by your right hand, entirely bored, has just elbowed you to bring you back to earth. 

She leaned over to you, covering her mouth as she whispered to your ear. 

“Keep this one. We will put him to good use.” 

You rolled your eyes at her as she drew back, and she just shrugged. What? Sue me, she mouthed back at you before she resumed her bored expression. 

You sighed and irritatedly waved your hand to the right, signaling the guards to take him to the dungeons instead of beheading him right on the spot. The crowd groaned a little, annoyed that they couldn’t witness an almost poetic death of an exquisite beauty, but no one dared to raise a protest. They all knew better than that.

~~~

This is all entirely her fault, you were rubbing your temples two days later to stave off the headache, thinking about what to do about him, cursing your best friend and her one track mind. 

But she did have a solid point, and you are a benevolent and generous queen so you decided to put him where he would be appreciated the best and guarded the most - a royal harem, private only for you and your court ladies to use at your leisure. 

Despite his dubious and potentially dangerous origins, you weren’t afraid for the safety of your court ladies. None of them were here just for decoration - all highly trained professional guards and assassins, the loyal extensions of your power, you weren’t afraid of them getting hurt or letting him escape. Vice-versa too - if anyone decided to become some kind of a vigilante justice and lay a hand on the mysterious dangerous man who could be seen as a threat to the queendom, he would be well-protected. 

It really seemed to be the best solution.

A solution that would make everyone happy - you would have one less problem, the man would be out of prying and gossiping public eyes hidden well within the palace walls, the court ladies would get a new shiny toy and him…Well, no one cares about what he thinks or wants. 

But even this turned out to not be an issue, because as it was reported to you a month later, the new harem addition was settling into his new role well. Maybe even too well, as you have found out from the gossips and giggles between the court ladies. Apparently, not only he didn’t have any reservations about the kind of services that were expected from him, but also he provided them very willingly and enthusiastically. Seemingly impossible to tire out, he was always happy to let himself be used by any woman, even multiple at once! as you heard the whispers.  

The never ending rumors about his skills with his fingers or tongue were constantly making you blush every time you overheard. But not only that, part of why he was so popular was also how comfortable and desired he made the ladies feel. He seemed to always figure out very quickly how each woman wanted to be touched or talked to, or whichever kink she might have. He was also not shy about his own body or sexuality, but his own needs always took a back seat. He seemed to be born for this role, made to please the others. 

The only thing he was not approved nor allowed to do was penetration. He was not deemed fit or deserving to sire a child for your queendom yet, that was an honor and a privilege reserved for only few distinguished harem members that have been in service for a long time. But the potential was there and everyone acknowledged it. 

The beautiful, charming Probably Na Jaemin has quickly become the darling of the harem. Friendly with everyone, staff, servants, even other harem members liked talking to him and had nothing to say about him but high praise. 

No suspicious behavior was reported, no escape attempts, no strange questions, no forbidden items found hidden between his possessions. Na Jaemin seemed to be fully satisfied and content with his living situations and when the servants asked if there were anything he could be missing, he only asked whether there would be a teeeny tiiiny possibility of getting a cat, maybe? If it wouldn’t cause too many problems, of course?

This bastard is just having a vacation on my account, you fumed as you were stamping your Queen’s Approval seal on the request to purchase a ragdoll for the palace. 

Despite the continuous nagging and encouragement from your court ladies, especially your best friend, you haven’t seen him yourself yet. Actually, you haven’t seen anyone from the harem recently, because you were avoiding the entire palace wing by a mile. You wouldn’t admit that to anyone, but you didn’t even want to run into him in the corridors. 

And now you’re expected to consider him as a possible father of your daughters. And you didn’t even have any good reason to reject this idea outright. 

~~~

You have been tossing and turning in your bed for hours already and sleep was yet to come. The full moon has been shining into your chambers so strongly you could see everything even with the lights of. That must be the reason why you can’t sleep, you fumed as you were annoyingly shutting the curtains. 

And then you were lying down staring at the ceiling in complete darkness for one more hour. 

Okay. I give up. You said to yourself and climbed off the bed, picking up a robe, some slippers and a candlestick holder for some light to take with you. 

You left your room quietly and let your feet lead you while trying to not think about where you are going. You passed a few guards on your way, replying only with a curt nod to their deep bows. At the very least you could see for yourself that they are doing their job properly. 

You finally ended up in front of the door that was the target destination of your night trip. You put your hand on the handle and were just about to open it, when the door flew open and a young giggly lady ran out straight into your arms, startling you both. 

You did your best to not drop your light or burn either of you, while she quickly (and with complete horror) realized who did she run into, composed herself and started apologizing, bowing deeply and begging you for forgiveness. You just dismissed her with a wave of your hand and she didn’t need to be told twice - she bowed once more for good measure and disappeared into the corridor. 

Once the commotion calmed down you were free to look into the room. It was a normal harem room, nice and spacious, beautifully decorated with imported furniture and full of lights and candles, with a big bed in the middle. And just there, in the middle of the bed, leisurely spreaded on the finest silks your country could provide, was Jaemin. And what a sight for sore eyes he was - dressed only in light silk pants,so thin, you could almost make out what’s under them, with only his upper body on display, all in its tanned and muscular glory. Lying there, like a picture perfect example of debauchery, sweaty, used, and covered in lovebites and bodily fluids, as if letting himself to show you what he's there for.

He didn’t scramble off the bed to bow to you, which would be a punishable offense and he must have known. Instead, he let his head drop back on the pillow and with drowsy eyes, tired voice and wide smug smile he asked: 

“Your highness… How can I help you?” he drawled slowly, without any care about what’s proper and what is not. He seemed to enjoy being seen in such a state, especially by you. 

You clenched your jaw. You will not be entertaining this kind of behavior. You promptly turned on your heel and left his room, slamming the door behind you. 

You took on the way back to your quarters, fuming the entire time, but trying to not think about why exactly. 

~~~

It’s been a few days and you can’t sleep again. But this time, you are not trying to. You’ve been periodically alternating lying restlessly in your bed with pacing around your room. You might have checked yourself in the mirror once or twice. And now you’re back in bed, more nervous and anxious than you should be. You keep glimpsing on the clock even though it’s still a little bit too early - your instructions were clear - better later than to be seen. But you still can’t wait, you’re not sure if it’s just the anxiety or also maybe some anticipation. 

The heavy door to your chambers slowly opens, revealing your visitor - Na Jaemin, slipping through the door silently like a cat, closing them after himself without any sound. He’s wearing only a thin, almost translucent white silk shirt and some light linen pants - both entirely inappropriate attire even for slinking through the palace corridors deep at night. He is looking at you, his facial expression neutral, not exposing any of his thoughts. 

“Your highness,” he greets. He doesn’t bow. 

You nod in reply, but don’t know what else to say. Usually you wouldn’t be so shy or embarrassed, but none of your harem members unsettles you like he does. You could just order him around, but it doesn’t feel right, you don’t want it like that. The moment is so awkward that you don’t know whether to start laughing or not, as you are just staring at each other. So you decide to slightly break the tension by lifting the silk duvets in invitation. 

He doesn’t wait a second and swiftly joins you in your massive canopy bed, throwing half of the bedding off on the ground. He settles between your legs, laying down on his belly and pushes your nightgown up. With just a brief glance at your face to confirm his intentions he gets to work. He starts eating your pussy with the skill and talent of someone who, well, eats pussy as a profession - and it would have felt maybe too impersonal if he weren’t so good at it. He’s enthusiastic and he clearly likes doing it, with his eyes closed and occasional humming. It feels good, his tongue feels like it’s everywhere at the same time and the tempo is perfect, even more when he dares to slip two fingers inside you. 

It’s good, too good and you don’t want to come. Not yet, not before he does what needs to be done. But he doesn’t know that yet. 

You reluctantly grab him by his hair and unstick him from your pussy. He looks so beautiful, his eyes are closed and his face is flushed, with sweat gathering on his temples. His lower face is all wet and his lips are so red. He opens his eyes, slowly, blinking: 

“You don’t want to? Is that not why I am here?” he asks, looking surprised. You are not sure whether to trust it or he’s just pretending.  But you don’t feel like you are obligated to explain yourself to him. 

“Take it out. Put it in,” you order. 

“Oh, so it’s like that, is it?” his face transforms completely, his smug wide shark smile back on his face. You let his hair go and he gets up, keeling between your legs, towering over you. He starts to untie his pants. 

“Is that what this is about?” he asks, while grabbing you by your hips, pulling you closer to him so easily as if you weighed nothing. “I heard some gossip about an heir. So are you just using me for breeding?” he says, putting on a fake accusatory tone. How does he have the mental presence to pretend-pout while he’s literally pushing his hard cock inside, flashes through your head. 

He stops when he’s all the way in and leans forward over you, unmoving and staring right into your eyes, his unsettling smile plastered on as usual. 

“Yes.” you do your best to keep your voice stable as he starts moving. You relax and lift your legs to wrap them around his back to push him deeper. His movements are fluid and he’s gentle, clearly thinking of your comfort first, not just hammering in without consideration. 

“The royal court has found you a purpose,” you breathe out, closing your eyes. You drop your head back on the pillows. “And I am not using you, you should be honored.”

“Does the royal court not care about the father of its heirs being just a lowly pleasure slave? Maybe we are more equal than you think, you know” taunts Jaemin. You run your hands over his wide back, holding on for the dear life and he’s starting to fuck you more thoroughly, his tempo getting faster. Despite that, he doesn’t seem to get any winded, his stamina is solid and his self-control clearly impeccable, as he doesn’t seem to be affected in any way. But he is, you can feel him sweat, you can feel the slick wetness between your bodies just as well as you can feel how hard he is. 

“It’s-it’s not important,” you stutter between thrusts. You’re slowly getting there and it’s becoming hard to think. He’s going fast and deep and finally you can hear him getting out of breath. 

“Okay,” he breathes out. He lowers down so he can kiss you on your neck. “I’ll give you your daughters” he puts his lips close to your ear, his deep voiced whispers accompanying his final thrusts, as he loses the rhythm and cums inside of you, with your orgasm following right after, triggered by his and his words. 

You keep holding on to him tightly as you feel pumping his cum inside of you, both coming down from your orgasms. You’re enjoying this closeness and you don’t really want to let go, but everything is getting too hot and sticky, so you reluctantly let him drop on the bed next to you. 

You feel completely liquid but when you glance at him, he’s already recovered, with his breath back to normal and wits fully gathered. 

He grins at you. “Your highness~~ Were you satisfied with my services?”

Yes. “We will see that soon.”

He turns to his side and gets close to cuddle up to you. You don’t know what to do with your limbs, but let him do as he wishes. Which is sticking himself fully onto you like an octopus. 

“I was thinking, If it works out well, maybe you could let me make a few more babies for your court ladies, so the throne heir has friends to play with, what do you think?” he mumbles into your skin.

Fuck no. It’s not that you are possessive, not over a measly harem member, but something about this proposal rubs you the wrong way. You frown and start to fight your way out of his embrace to scold him from a more dignified position, but you’re stuck in an iron cuddle grip. And the more you try to wiggle out, the tighter it gets. 

“Noooooo? Does your majesty not like this idea~~?” he asks. “That’s okay then, we will just have to work eeeeeextra hard to make this one a twins,” he laughs, already scrambling up so he can get between your legs again.

And you can’t help yourself, and laugh with him.  

~~~

a/n: i like to imagine that this jaemin is actually a runaway youngest prince of some neighboring country who decided to become a hitman for hire, because that’s just so much more fun. he loooves killing people, but he really did need a vacation :) 

[alexanderwales]

My Very Brief Time as a Korean Rice Farmer

When my wife had been working at her company for ten years, her boss offered her a two week trip anywhere in the world she wanted to go. It was a small company, maybe thirty people, and she'd been one of the first employees, when they were even smaller.

We had wanted to go to Japan, but this was 2022, and they were still closed for COVID when we were making the plans. We decided on South Korea instead, which was my personal preference over Japan anyway (kimchi and k-dramas and the Joseon era!). I used Duolingo to learn Hangul (the script) and not all that much actual Korean.

We went to Changdeok Palace early in the morning on our second day in Seoul, getting there just before it opened. It's a huge place that's right in the city, surrounded, as most things in Seoul are, by other buildings. The Palace is actually a number of buildings built by a number of kings from the Joseon era.

Right when we came in, we were quickly approached by a guy in a blue hanbok. "Hanbok" is a word that means "traditional clothing" or something like that, so it's not actually descriptive, but it was powder blue and looked fancy. He had glasses and a slightly uneasy smile on his face, and approached us from far enough away that I had time to wonder if he was approaching us, and if he was, what he wanted.

"Excuse me, how long were you going to be here today?" he asked.

"We don't have plans," my wife said. "We were going to be here all day, long enough to see everything."

"Would you like to participate in a festival?" he asked.

We looked at each other and told him sure, and then followed him as he talked. (We passed a group of thirty children who had just been admitted with their teacher, and they seemed excited to see foreigners, so they kept yelling "Hello!" to us, which was probably the only English they knew. We waved and said "annyeonghaseyo!" back to them.)

What I thought was going on at this point was that we were getting upsold on something. I figured that we were going to see something special and extra, and then get charged for it. Whatever, we were on vacation, I was fine with that. We hadn't been in Korean long, and I thought "maybe they just station guys like this by the gate to rope people in". It was weird, but we were in a place where we didn't understand all the customs or speak the language, and my policy had been "just roll with it".

I did think it was weird that we were hoofing it across the palaces, and thought it was more weird when we went past a gate and into a place where no one else was apparently allowed. Our guide spoke good English, but when he'd been talking it had always been "the festival" or "the event" and "you'll be there most of the day" and "we'll make sure you have what you need". We were not clear on what was going on.

He mentioned that there would be a rice harvest, which I thought was weird since we were in a historical park in the middle of Seoul.

He told us that he'd give us a tour, because there wouldn't be time later, so he guided us through the Joseon-era gardens and temples. There was no one around, because that part of the grounds wasn't open until later in the day, so we got to see everything and ask whatever questions we wanted to ask, which has got to be the best possible way to experience a place. I was mostly struck by how much work it must have taken to make all this stuff and had lots of "down with the monarchy" feelings. There's a huge pond that's in the shape of the Korean peninsula, and god damn must that have taken a ton of time without a backhoe.

We were eventually taken a small place where they were setting things up, with a bunch of people milling about, and it was only then that we saw the rice: a small plot of it, no more than twenty feet to a side.

The rice was, in historical times, planted there so the king would have some understanding of what the crop yields would be like, since rice was the lifeblood of the country. It was harvested and inspected and whatnot to get some sense of the agriculture of the country, because anything that happened to the rice in these conditions was probably happening to rice all over the kingdom.

This rice harvest wasn't something that they just do with tourists every now and then, it only happens on this single day in the entire year, and me and my wife were two of the five people who would be doing it. The other three were all Korean government people of some kind.

They took us to a building and got us changed in our hanbok. "Hanbok" means "traditional clothes", and usually is associated with a nice and historical outfit, like someone in England dressing up in Regency era clothing. Here, it just meant "traditional farmer clothes".

Problem: I am six feet tall, which is quite tall for a Korean.

This woman was trying to dress me, and both because I was a bit overweight and quite tall, it was just not going well. My wife thought it was hilarious.

The other part of the kit was some orange rubber boots, which were not traditional but did prevent us from getting covered in mud. This is the most that I have ever looked like a goose.

When they were ready for us, we were handed tools to cut the rice. The ideal motion was to grab it around the base, move the hand up, then cut at the bottom. I am pretty sure that the thing we were handed was a sickle.

We got warned five or six times that they were extremely sharp, meant for slicing through the stalks of grain, and because there was a bit of a language barrier, the guy handing them to us kept nodding as he tried to make sure we understood that there was no small amount of danger.

My wife, five seconds after being handed her sickle, lunged at me with a "Hiya!" like she meant to stab me in the stomach. I jumped, five or six Koreans around us jumped, and my wife laughed and laughed. (My wife is great.)

When the photographers got there, we went into the muck and began harvesting. There were what felt like fifty photographers taking pictures of us while very loud drums played a traditional song and some people danced around us. We preened in front of the cameras, trying to take direction as best we could, and tossing the harvested rice off to the side so that two men with giant hammers could pound on it and make it into something like mochi (I think called tteok, but there was a lot of Korean happening).

After the photographers had gone, we had a little break, then were made to harvest rice in front of a group of Korean people, most of whom were, I think, either government functionaries or personalities or something. The drums were going again, I was sweating in my hanbok, and left hoping that my glasses wouldn't fall into the mud.

A third rice harvest was done for tourists, and the drums started up. I think this was the weirdest one for me, because I was a tourist on display for other tourists.

After the last of the rice was harvested, we had an interview with the largest English-speaking TV station in South Korea. All the questions were casual chit-chat questions, and I figured that only five or ten seconds would make it on air for a puff piece (which is what happened, with my wife hogging all the screen time).

When we had finally changed back into our normal clothes, we were given gifts by way of thanks, two wooden cups that we now use in the bathroom to hold toothbrushes, along with a pound of rice each (though not the stuff we'd harvested, which was made into tteok and we did get a chance to eat).

Our guide was super nice to us, answered some questions about what it's like to live in South Korea, and talked to us about places for us to visit. Over the next few days, we were able to find a few puff pieces on the internet, all in Korean.

I'm pretty sure they do this every year, always with token foreigners, and I hope some day I'm telling this story to someone and they say "oh yeah, that happened to me too".