#so ferocious so angry but also so sad!!

[sic-vita]

proposition: I am not a befuddled king, I'm not a fool. I saw it in their eyes and I felt it when they spoke. If they betray me in their hearts, isn't that sin enough? Am I to be wounded and weakened and not return it in kind?

[vaguely-concerned]

BEHOLD! The list of evidence for my bold claim that Pan and Freddie dislike each other ferociously on sight because they are, in some key ways and despite appearances, very similar people: 

- First instinct upon seeing Grace sad is to try to make her laugh to cheer her up. (See: Freddie’s very first lines in the game starting off as she means to go on, and about half the things Pan ever says or does lol. In the last scene with him before The Trial you can even tell him you’re there just because you wanted to talk to him and have something cheer you up.) General sources of levity and fun and play in Grace’s life if you seek them out. 

- They react with similar anxiety to the idea of Grace being really angry with them (Freddie’s surprised/dismayed “Why are you angry at me?!” in the red route of ‘I Can Teach You’, the millenia-old god of the wild hiding behind a tree for ten minutes because he thinks Grace might be about to yell at him lmao <3)

- Both of them seem to have similar interpersonal insecurities in general, judging by the enforced choice between them in ‘I Can Teach You’ (I love you both so much but oh my god. is this a constructive use of time or energy under the circumstances lol), softened and alleviated by the fact that at the end of the day the most important thing to either of them is that Grace is happy. It isn’t possessiveness, but there is an element of underlying ‘Hey. Hey I am your favorite right?? 🥺’ insecurity there that trips them both up to begin with. Once you play the game and go back to look at this scene again knowing everyone’s real motivations, they’re even coming from the same place deep down — genuine fear for Grace’s safety and wanting to help her. (Freddie uncomplicatedly out of love🥹, and Pan at that stage probably more out of a guilty sense of responsibility, though he does seem to take a shine to Grace herself pretty quickly as well. Also he demonstrably isn’t, uh. Completely wrong in saying Freddie’s involvement in this whole mess is likely to end in tears, even if he is being a real dick about it) 

- If you don’t choose either in ‘I Can Teach You’, they both show up within minutes of each other to watch Grace’s back in the Medusa quest anyway. One brain cell ping pong and no one notices because they keep trying to swat each other with the racquets whenever Grace glances away for a second

Sidenote but flirting with both of them one after the other in that quest is fucking hilarious, they’re just taking turns ‘Really? Right in front of my salad?’-ing directly at the camera (...listen I feel that there is a chance that as long as they kept Grace between them the whole time there could be a thing here. I think a possible universe out there where it happens at least once does exist if one cared to go seek it out. That’s all I’m saying.) 

- Seems a bit obvious but what else am I here for: both very drawn to Grace no matter what main trait you choose. Whether this is true vice versa is of course player-dependent, but it is one way you can play the game. 

- Incredibly similar defensive reactions to being picked on or sniped at (and no hesitation whatsoever in subjecting each other to exactly that immediately anyway haha) 

- A bit dark when you think about it, but they both express the sentiment that it would be better for them to step in and die if it means Grace lives. (Freddie very directly of course ;______; and then in ‘It’s time’, Pan in ‘The Trial’ and the little talk you have with him later in Athena’s office.)  

Matching ‘ride or die’ instincts once awoken, is what I’m getting at. Freddie gets extra points for sheer longevity and constancy, Pan gets extra points for getting there in a week. You’re both unhinged (affectionate) 

- They’re the only ones among the main cast wearing green, right? I think I’ve got that right? Well, Charon does too, I suppose, but he’s a bit more peripheral. (Persephone and Aphrodite wear blue-green, but that seems more associated with death and the underworld and the river of grief everyone keeps using as a metaphor throughout the game.) Somehow I find the idea/metaphor that once you get Pan out from under like three layers of bullshit he’s the same colour as Freddie (who is inarguably The symbol of devotion and steadfastness in this game no matter your choices) quite sweet. 

- Nerds. You know I am right. Slightly different kinds of nerd (Freddie is distinctly geek-flavoured and Pan collects rare books for sport sort of distinction), but still. Oh my god. Freddie should get the whole cast together to play D&D in the Reliquary post-game. It would be absolute carnage. It would be glorious hilarity. *GASP* no wait not the Reliquary, let’s go to the Underworld so Charon gets to play too. For the love of all that is good give this to me now please I need it 

- The only two people who think Freddie losing control of her powers and causing a dance number at a funeral is hilarious

In short this is a recognition of the self through the other (derogatory) situation for both of them and neither of them decides to take that with any dignity or grace (ahaha) in the slightest, I love them very much,  thank you and goodnight 

[h0bg0blin-meat]

Ok I propose a new old idea

The type of voices the Dieties have...

Vishnu: As sweet as honey yet regal as fuck.. like when he speaks even if he speaks things you don't understand you'll feel like “wah kya samjhaya hai”

Shiva: DEEP AF voice but also as soft as the cottons. If you just play music, all his words will automatically feel like lyrics

Brahma: Naturally low toned, calm voice and sounds mature.... Like more than normal typa mature... As if your father have pulled you aside to tell you how he had experienced life.

Varuna: When normal sounds like ocean waves dancing but kinda high pitched... But when angry and he speaks to you, it's as if you are struck in a tsunami or a tornado

Indra: His voice is actually very very sweet and jiggly like the rain... The kind of rain people enjoy listening to. But when angry it's rumbling like thunder, an word is enough to scare the shit out of you

Mitra: Deep voice but it also gives you a sense of home, a feeling you get when someone understands you, someone puts an hand around your shoulder and smiles at you... A feeling of having a friend.

Parvati: Soft sweet voice. The one your mother uses when she's happy with you. If she speaks, you will just want to curl up in a ball and ask for food. You'll feel like a child if she speaks to you. But her ferocious forms speak so different you'll feel like someone is painfully tearing you up into pieces just from words..

Saraswati: She sounds like that one teacher you were sure would clear all your doubts with a calmness you never understand how it was everlasting. She just doesn't know how to speak angrily. Even when she's angry she'll speak in such a manner you'll feel guilty for making her angry (this method is tested and proven on Brahma)

Lakshmi: She just calls you poor in all the existing languages lol.... Ok no but she speaks so regal it sounds like if you pour a ton of coins on the ground. Really. But also you'll just keep wanting to listen to her.

Ganga: Soft like the river flow when she's really really nice. But also wild, unstoppable, and sharp like the cutting sharp streams of the river Ganga.

Vayu: Whispery, windy tone like the air. Softly speaking to make you feel safe and happy. But it also changea according to his mood. Like when he's angry it's storm it gives you no corner to hide, if he's sad it's monsoon wind.. cold and you don't really like ot much..

Surya: His voice is...umm Bright. Like literally. When he speaks it's as if the window was open and the sun rays smacked you across your face waking you up from sleep. But also his voice is warm and gives a feeling of safety.

Chandra: Cold. His voice is cold. But not in a bad ignoring manner cold. It's the cooling effect you get on summer nights, the peace you get when you look at the night sky ans spot the moon. It's soft and melodious and beautiful just like the moon. But if you look closely it got some spots in it. And sometimes his voice cracks... Not because he's in pain or sadness, it's just a natural thing for him.

Varuni: She just sounds drunk. No I mean she definitely speaks normal but also her voice makes YOU drunk. Maybe take it in a romantic way or whatever but it's true (it works, Varuna agrees)

Vasant: Deep voice like the tree trunk but also soft like the flowers he wears around his neck. He makes you remember home, gives you a longing for home, but alao makes you feel at home.

Kama: He speaks to you in a way that makes you feel loved. No not necessarily romantic love but all kinds of love. You just feel loved. Also he used terms like “love” “sweetheart” “dear” in regular conversations so yeah...

Rati: Contrary to popular opinion no she doesn't sound lusty 24/7. Well... Maybe a little... But she actually sounds really sweet and soft like a childhood friend or neighborhood sister

Aranyani: She sounds when gentle breezes blow and makes the forest trees dance, like the animals that makes sound in a forest... Can be scary sometimes but you'll also love listening to her.

Pushan: Like marriages bells, happy wishes, as if a letter came from someone you love. Don't know how to elaborate it but his voice gives a kind of joy, that you get when you know “haa ab life mein sab sahi hoga”

Kartik: Soft but somehow a bit awkward voice... like he's sure what he's speaking of but is he speaking the correct way? But if he's angry its War Cry. He'll tear you apart with words just like his mother.

Ganesh: Sounds like that topper backbencher kid. Knowledged asf but also mischievous but you'll like listening to him thou, it's like having a cousin at a boring family function.

Devsena/Shashthi: She also sounds like a mother but she sounds like she's coddling and pampering you, spoiling you with all kinds of foods and stuffs, she not just sounds like a mom but she'll make you feel like a smol baby too.

Lmao it's long sorry and I know I didn't cover most... Whom should I add next?

*sobs* THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL.

The way you explained all of these 😭

No words.

Perfect!

Next you can add Shukra, Budh, Ila/Sudyumna, Yama, Agni, Ayyappan, Ashvins, Aryaman, Vac, Dyaus, Alakshmi, Yami, Rudra, Savitr and more if ya want! :D

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH UGHHH

Im so glad with what you did with Indra, Mitra, Vasant and Varuni's voice HSJSKSKDJD SUITS SO WELL

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Honestly, I find it very funny that FD says that he doesn't need to eat, doesn't need to sleep, doesn't engage in mating rituals. Because that kinda goes against a bunch of irl mythology.

I mean, just look at Greek mythology. Zeus & Hera are married, Hades & Persephone are married, Hephestus & Aphrodite are married. Not to mention that the Olympian Gods tend to reproduce like freaking rabbits. Especially Zeus, dude could not keep it in his pants. There's also the fact that Hestia is the Goddess of Food who is known to make ambrosia which was known as the food of the gods.

Like, were those declarations strictly a FD thing or was it a statement regarding deities in the world of Hyeule in-general?

Honestly, I can't help but wonder if it's really accurate to classify FD as a God of War. When you consider the Japanese lore behind his mask's name, it suggests that he's more so a God of Protection. A tutelary deity. What I mean is that the mask is referred to as Kishin, which are Japanese Ogre Gods that were inspired by the Buddhist Pāla or Fierce Gods. They were known to be ferocious in battle & very scary-looking, but ultimately compassionate & benevolent at their cores. They were said to exact divine retribution upon those who did wrong to innocents & got rid of obstacles in the way of mortals achieving enlightenment.

It's all very interesting.

I've always viewed the Fierce Deity as a god of protection, a benevolent guardian over Termina who was cursed into a mask with dark magic. He would fight to protect the land when needed and just chill and hang out in the meantime, likely with mythical creatures more than the people, but still be fairly normal in his own eyes. The mask is a prison for him, sealing him there with evil magic of some sort.

Seeing as his mask has a dark aura, and Fierce is really only utilized to fight, and his mask can harm the user, in the eyes of the world he became known as a dangerous god of war and is usually kept at arm's length. The millennia in the mask have chipped away at his memory and his personality, leaving him closed off and aloof, ignorant to much of anything outside of battle, which is the only constant he has left. His cool demeanor isn’t because he’s a mindless otherworldly god, it’s because he’s been alone for so long he doesn’t know how human behavior works anymore.

Fierce has been happy, sad, angry, hungry, sick, upset, etc. He just barely remembers it, if at all. He’s so emotionally disconnected he struggles sometimes to process things. While sealed in the mask he has no physical needs, and he only vaguely remembers them when he’s out, and he’s never out long enough to really merit worrying about it (at least until Link gets the mask). But he is curious and eager to help nonetheless.

[acertainmoshke]

Snippet: Dream Part 3

in which I set up a plot point for book 3 because I am Like That (also this is the last part of this dream)

Content warnings: general death and a little blood I guess, but not as intense as the first two

“I came to save you,” I tell her.

She smiles sadly. Sweetly. Perfectly. “Nothing can save me. But I was harsh before. Perhaps you don’t deserve this. You’re going to get it either way.”

And the world crystallizes into somewhere else. Somewhere new. I don’t recognize the icy street, the piles of snow taller than Kris that line either side, the buildings around us containing far more glass than stone. The cars are odd too, larger and rounder than any I’ve ever seen. Cassandra still stands beside me. Her skirt whips in the winter wind, but she doesn’t seem to feel cold. The snow crunches sharply under my feet, but neither of us leave footprints behind as we walk down the street.

I look harder at the cars.

This is the future.

I wonder when this is and if I’m dead yet, but it doesn’t seem likely. I’m not so lucky.

As soon as I realize that even the wind is silent, the sound returns in a painful roar that makes me flinch before settling into the mostly-expected: howling wind, the distant thrum of traffic, voices yelling and laughing. But there is an unexpected noise, too. It reminds me at first of the clatter of pots pushed off the shelf when you’re too small to grab them properly. But no, I know this sound. It sounds like…fighting. Weapons clashing and angry yells, but on a larger scale than any battle I’ve been in.

Cassandra is walking calmly towards the sound, so I follow her.

We started off several blocks away, and as we approach the clatter becomes a roar. I recognize the red and gray uniforms from the Veil Guard posters. Their enemies, to my shock, are clearly actual Fae in actual armor with crystal weapons. There are many more humans, but even so they seem impressively evenly matched.

The human closest to us is a beautiful man with bright red hair, uneven teeth, and freckles scattered like stars over his skin. He’s laughing in the same kind of ferocious delight I hate myself for when a sword sprouts through his chest. A shining metal sword. His blood arcs in bright droplets onto the snow and when I look for the human traitor behind him, I see no one there. The man gurgles and falls, kept half on his knees by the hilt sticking out of his back.

None of the other soldiers seem to notice right away, and I’ve just taken a step forward when the scene melts again.

For a long stretch, we are Nowhere. There is no color and nothing to see or hear. It’s not dark or light. The usual weight and soft rush of silence are gone. I am surrounded by true Nothing. Cassandra is still next to me, but we are no longer standing because there is no ground beneath us.

Before I can open my mouth to complain about any of this, Cassandra speaks in her soft, sad voice. “That was, perhaps, unfair. Let me make it up to you.”

I’m not sure I understand what was unfair. What did she just show me? A battle I wasn’t part of? A stranger dying? Fae overtaking a city I’ve never been to? I feel like every time I was stuck in a conversation that made no sense to me as a child, with everyone else nodding along.

But the world is already resolving itself into something new. I’ve never seen this particular small apartment before with its faded blue curtains, cracked dining chairs, and dusty lamps. But I recognize it in a general sense. I know the stone making up the view across the street and the chill radiating from the closed window. The radio on the hearth looks like the one Jim owns. We’re back in the city.

It takes a moment, in that dreamlike way, for me to realize the room isn’t empty, and that I know the woman sitting in the rocking chair. Her dark hair is limp and uncurled, her wrinkles deeper, and her eyes dull, but standing across the room from Mom still sends a jolt down my spine.

I turn to scream at Cassandra—and maybe to see if she’s real enough to be stabbed—when Mom opens her mouth to cough. And cough and cough. She doesn’t stop for a long time. No one comes to check on her.

“This is today,” says Cassandra, her tone unchanged. “She will be dead by next week.”

I let that sink in. Mom, finally gone. Mom, alone and uncoiffed, dying in this sad little apartment.

At last, I smile.

And then I remember something. “But you can’t want this.”

Cassandra only shrugs. “Like I said, I’m not here.”

I look at her, harder this time. Her face is more expressive than mine, but I’ve only seen her express a graceful sadness that would get old fast if she didn’t smile and nod when told to. Her hands are still but her shoulders hunch a little, like she’s trying to disappear into herself. I wonder if they wouldn’t be as happy with her as I thought.

“Thank you,” I manage, before the scene melts again.

General tag list: @ashirisu

Cold Iron tag list: @amielbjacobs @stesierra @ettawritesnstudies @the-inkwell-variable

[sakaiyuji234]

The Doctor Prince's Concubine: The sickly prince is not easy to tease

Chapter 2

*MTL*

    Lady Zhao was shocked.

    "Jin'er, Jin'er."

    Wen Yun's pupils sank when she saw Xie Yunjin suddenly fall down. He couldn't die.

    She stood up and wanted to check on Xie Yunjin, but was pushed away by Lady Zhao.

    "What are you going to do to my son?"

    Wen Yun frowned and said in a cold voice, "I can save him."

    Lady Zhao seemed to have heard a big joke, and her sad eyebrows became ferocious.

    "If it weren't for you, Jin'er wouldn't have died. Come, take her down for me."

    After saying that, Lady Zhao immediately asked someone to find the court doctor.

    The servants hurriedly carried Xie Yunjin out of the coffin and back to the house.

    Wen Yun looked in the direction of the door, with a dark look of contemplation between her brows.

    Inside the house, the court doctor sighed with regret after taking Xie Yunjin's pulse.

    "Doctor, how is Jin'er? Is his condition getting better?" Lady Zhao asked anxiously.

    The court doctor shook his head, "Madam, please accept my condolences. The prince is only in a state of last gasp. The poison has already entered his lungs and there is no way to save him. He is already dead."

    Lady Zhao's face turned pale and she staggered and fell into a chair.

    "Madam..." The maid said worriedly.

    Lady Zhao's eyes suddenly became sharp and she stood up and went to the yard.

    She stared at Wen Yun fiercely with anger in her eyes, "Beat this bitch who dared to murder the prince to death with a stick!"

    Wen Yun's heart skipped a beat. Lady Zhao suddenly got so angry that she came to deal with her. It must be because Xie Yunjin was in a bad condition. She said, "I can make the prince wake up. Madam, why don't you let me try?"

    Lady Zhao was so angry that she stepped forward and slapped Wen Yun hard in the face.

    Wen Yun felt a bloody smell instantly filling her lips and teeth, and her eyes went black.

    "Bitch, you still dare to lie to me, beat her, beat her!"

    Wen Yun clearly saw the murderous intent in Lady Zhao's eyes. She took a deep breath and gritted her teeth and said, "Let me try. If it doesn't work, I'll let you deal with me. Don't you want the prince to come back to life?"

    Lady Zhao's eyelids trembled violently. She didn't believe that Wen Yun had the ability to bring Xie Yunjin back to life.

    "If I can't do it, you can beat me to death and bury me with the prince." Seeing Lady Zhao's hesitation, Wen Yun continued to lobby.

    "Madam is not giving me a chance to live, but giving it to the prince!"

    Lady Zhao's pupils shrank, and she stared at Wen Yun coldly, "Okay, I'll see what tricks you can play. Let her go and bring the person into the house."

    Even if she didn't believe it, as a mother, she could only try her best at this time. Even if there was only a one in ten thousand chance, she didn't want to miss it.

    Wen Yun saw Lady Zhao agreed, and she breathed a sigh of relief and walked into the house.

    At this time, Xie Yunjin, who was lying on the bed, had a gray face and was already a dead man.

    Wen Yun didn't dare to delay and immediately went forward to check on Xie Yunjin's condition.

    She placed her fingertips on his pulse, but could no longer feel any beating.

    Wen Yun took out a silver needle from her body and pierced it into Xie Yunjin's palm, heart meridian, and Ren meridian. The silver needle went all the way down, almost piercing Xie Yunjin into a sieve.

    Then she pulled up Xie Yunjin's arm and slapped his armpit fiercely.

    The "pa pa pa" sound was particularly harsh in the low-pitched room.

    The court doctor saw this and said with disapproval, "Madam, the prince is already dead. This is not saving people, this is not wanting the prince to die peacefully."

    Lady Zhao was also very angry. Wen Yun was not saving people, this was clearly torturing and humiliating Jin'er's body!

    "Wen Yun, what are you doing? Stop it. Come on, drag her out for me."

    Upon hearing this, the sturdy old women rushed forward to catch people.

    Wen Yun raised her cold eyes suddenly, her light-colored eyes showed a sharp and cold look, "If you want him to live, get out of here."

    The maids had never seen Wen Yun like this before, and they were shocked by her eyes for a moment. Even Lady Zhao was stunned.

    Looking at Wen Yun now, she felt that it was abnormal. Was this still the Wen Yun who was humble and cowardly in front of her, and couldn't even speak clearly?

    While they were stunned, Wen Yun saw drops of bright red blood flowing from his chest, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

    Lady Zhao suddenly came back to her senses and realized that she was actually frightened by Wen Yun. She was even more angry for a moment.

    "Why are you still standing there, take her down!"

    The maids stepped forward again and held Wen Yun.

    Lady Zhao's slender eyebrows raised angrily, "Drag her out and beat her hard!"

    Wen Yun did not struggle, but counted silently in her heart, "One, two, three..."

    "Cough!"

    A slight cough suddenly came from the bed.

    The people in the room froze in place as if they were frozen.

    Only a faint light flashed in Wen Yun's eyes.

    In fact, Xie Yunjin was not dead at all, but was in a state of suspended animation. His heart pulse was hidden by a ball of turbid air, which made it impossible for the doctor to detect any pulse. Now that she has cleared the turbid air, Xie Yunjin's pulse will naturally return to normal.

    "Madam, go and see if the prince is alive."

    Lady Zhao came back to her senses and staggered forward.

    When Xie Yunjin opened his eyes, he saw Zhao with red eyes. He said weakly, "Mother."

    "Jin'er, you really scared your mother to death."

    The court doctor was shocked. He didn't care about the rules at this time. He walked to Xie Yunjin in three or two steps to cut his pulse. When he felt the beating pulse under his fingertips, he couldn't believe it.

    "This, how is this possible..." He was obviously dead just now.

    "Doctor, how is it?"

    The doctor stood up after hearing this, "Madam, the prince is indeed alive again."

    Lady Zhao's lips trembled with excitement, "Didn't you just say that the prince was dead? What's going on?"

    The doctor's forehead was sweating, "Yes, I really didn't feel the prince's pulse just now..."

    "The prince won't die." As long as he is still alive, he doesn't have to be buried with him. "I was interrupted when I was treating the prince just now. Please let me continue, madam."

    Lady Zhao suddenly turned to Wen Yun, the red hairpin on her head jingled, and she looked at Wen Yun with an extremely stern scrutiny.

    She didn't believe that Wen Yun's medical skills were that great, and this time it was just a blind cat catching a dead mouse.

    But with so many people present, Wen Yun didn't dare to do anything, so she asked the old woman to let her go.

    Wen Yun walked to the bed and met those eyes as dark as the abyss again.

    She leaned forward a little, and said in a voice that only the two of them could hear: "My lord, this is the second time I have saved your life. Can you believe that I will not hurt you now?"

    Xie Yunjin was conscious when he appeared in a state of suspended death just now. The so-called suspended death only made it impossible for people to detect his pulse, so he knew everything that happened in the room just now.

    His black eyes were cold, and it was impossible for him to believe Wen Yun, but he wanted to know what her purpose was in doing all this.

    "What do you want to say?"

[troybeecham]

Today the Church honors Sts. Adrian, Natalia, and Companions, Martyrs.

Orate pro nobis.

In the late 3rd c. AD, the pagan Roman co-Emperor Galerius Maminianus began to persecute Christians in the eastern part of the empire. It has been noted that his particularly ferocious attitude towards Christians likely influenced the senior Emperor Diocletian to begin the Great Persecution of Christians (303-313 AD). Having recently been victorious, after a previous failure, over the Sassanid empire, Galerius came together with his soldiers to the city of Nicomedia in Asia Minor.

After Galerius offered to the public rewards for turning in Christians, it was reported that in a certain cave Christians were hiding, and that they sang and prayed the whole night to their God. Immediately Galerius sent his soldiers to seize these Christians, The soldiers did as they were commanded, and the group of 23 Christians were beaten and brought in iron chains to the place of judgment. One of the chiefs of the judgment place, a young man, and possibly the praetor of the Praetorian Guard, by the name of Adrian, seeing how patiently and how willingly the Christians suffered for their faith, asked what reward they expected to receive from their God for such tortures.’ The holy martyrs replied: “It is written in Scripture that ‘eye hath not seen, nor hath ear heard, nor hath it entered the heart of man those things which God hath prepared for those who love Him'” (I Cor. 2:9). Hearing these words, and seeing their Faith, the young Adrian was struck by divine grace and declared that he too wished to be a Christian, to have his name recorded on the list of Christian prisoners, and that he was willing to die together with them for Christ. For this, he was also thrown into prison.

When Adrian’ s young wife Natalia was told of her husband’s conversion to Christ and of his imprisonment, instead of being sad, she greatly rejoiced, for she had hidden from him until that moment that she, too, was a Christian herself and she knew the joy which now filled her husband’s heart. She ran to the prison and, falling down at the feet of her husband, she kissed his chains and said, “Blessed are you, my Adrian; you have found such a treasure.” When Adrian was brought before the Emperor and threatened with torture if he did not worship the pagan gods, his godly-minded wife Natalie and the other martyrs encouraged him saying: “Having been found worthy to carry your own cross and to follow Christ, take care that you do not turn back and lose your eternal reward.”

Adrian had always faithfully served his earthly king, but now he was to serve the King of Heaven. He courageously endured the tortures and was returned to the prison. There Natalie, together with other pious women, who had not yet been denounced, would come and help the prisoners, cleaning and bandaging their wounded bodies. When the cruel Emperor found out about this, he forbade them to visit the prison. But the blessed Natalie had such love for the sufferers that she cut her hair and put on men’s clothing. In this disguise she was able to enter the prison.

Day after day the holy martyrs endured such cruel and severe tortures that they were barely alive. The Emperor became angry that even under such tortures they would not deny their God. Finally he ordered for them a violent death. When Adrian appeared before the emperor and confessed Christ, he underwent a first beating, and then was stretched on the ground and suffered a second beating on his stomach, which lacerated his stomach so that his intestines were visible. His hands and feet were then cut off. It is not clear if he died from these tortures, or was beheaded to finish him off more quickly. The other 23 un-named martyrs arms and legs were cut off and their bodies were thrown into a fire to be burned so that none of the Christians might gather their precious remains. As the fires were lit, there burst forth thunder and lightning and a powerful rain which put out the fire. Natalie, together with other Christians, took the bodies of the holy martyrs from the fire and rejoiced to see that God had preserved them from harm. A faithful Christian man named Eusebius and his wife then took the holy relics to Byzantium where they could be safely kept until the death of the impious Emperor.

After a certain time, a pagan nobleman desired to marry Natalie who was still young and beautiful. She cried and begged God to save her from this union with an unbeliever. Having prayed fervently, St. Natalie fell from exhaustion and sorrow into a light sleep during which the holy martyrs appeared to her in a vision and said, “Peace be unto you. God has not forgotten your labors. We shall pray that you will come to us soon. Get on a ship and go to the place where our bodies are and the Lord will make Himself known to you.”

Following their directions, the blessed Natalie reached Byzantium and, going to the church where the bodies of the holy martyrs lay, she fell down before them and prayed. She was so tired from the journey that she fell asleep and saw in a dream her husband St. Adrian, who said to her, “Come my beloved, and enjoy the reward of your labors.” Very soon after this St. Natalie died peacefully in her sleep. Although she did not shed her own blood, she is numbered among the martyrs for having co-suffered with them, serving and encouraging them in their heroic struggles for the sake of Christ. This was in the year 298 AD.

Almighty God, who gave to your servants Adrian, Natalia, and their Companions boldness to confess the Name of our Savior Jesus Christ before the rulers of this world, and courage to die for this faith: Grant that we may always be ready to give a reason for the hope that is in us, and to suffer gladly for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

[sttrawberries]

I'M SO EXCITED TO READ THIS, I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FIC EVERY DAY THIS WEEK

okayyy let's go🤠

"he approached your sleepy frame and guided you inside, a hand placed on your back the entire walk up the stairs." 🥺

"on whoever lived on the last floor (Jason)" JSKSSJSJ

“Come on, love. We’re getting closer.” LOVE AAAAAAA

"your response caught him by surprise, as your face crunched into a sort of angry expression mixed with a tint of sadness." ☹

"Jason grabbed your legs and lifted you up so he could carry you to his apartment." AAA I KNEW HE WOULD DO THAT (also i hope they don't fall down the stairs ☠)

"poking the bicep within your reach." oh she's definitely drunk sjsjksj her sober version won't like that

HE TOOK OFF HER SHOES🥺

I love that even drunk she thought about taking her bra off to sleep comfortable, honestly same😂

"Unaware of the smile gracing his lips." oh boy

HE HAS A KITTEN AAAAA

Red mug👀

OHHH SHE WOKE UP AND REALITY BATHED HER OVER

Where the hell did her jeans go sksksk

Ayyy red hoodie👀

"he greeted, waving awkwardly in your direction. You only offered him a shy, toothless smile, eyes scanning the room and landing everywhere but him" my now shy babies

THE SMIRK IS HERE

OH SHE'S STILL PEEKING THROUGH THE DOOR WHILE HE MAKES THE SANDWICH😂

We'll be at the same position in a few months while she gets a craving in the middle of the night🤠

"His whole energy levels seemed to rise, and a sparkle tingled in his eyes. He seems to really enjoy it" AWWW

I'm reading this at 2/3am and imagining this I'm even getting hungry too, where's my Jason?😩

"He had a smirk on his lips, not smug or annoying or flirtatious like he usually had, but a lighthearted and fun one." MY HEART

"Looking at him, though, side by side with you, after making you a sandwich at almost 4am in the morning, you felt a lump on your throat you could not explain or justify. It was something no one had ever done for you and for some reason you wanted to cry." MY GIRL😭

"you took your time admiring his jaw clenching as he chewed." I would be full staring at him, too

"you would linger in his head on a daily basis" AAAAAA

“Jason gasped when he felt the cold sauce on his cheek. You let out a good chuckle, looking at the green stain on his face. Your masterpiece. But Jason was competitive, he wouldn’t let you win. So, he dipped his own bread in the sauce and tried to do the same as you, but you held his arms to stop him before he could stain yet another one of your shirts. His in this case." GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET THEY'RE GETTING PLAYFUL

"He felt good seeing you smile again, laughing even, and he just confirmed it was now one of his favorite sounds." 🥺

"It wasn’t polished, it was loud, fun. Everything you usually weren’t, but proof you could be sometimes, if only you’d allow yourself to let loose." I really liked this part✍🏻

"Your hands going for his chin and pulling his face closer to yours, cleaning the pesto stain you’d left on his cheek." OH

"The tightness in his jeans making it uncomfortable to walk." 👀

HIS MUSCLES AND TATTOOS, I would be fully staring at him too x2

AAAAAAAAA SHE KISSED HIM

"He kissed you hungrily, like he’d been wanting it for long, and you replied with the same ferociousness, wanting him closer, more and more. You fingers tugged at the little hairs at the nape of his neck, and he moaned inside your mouth, the vibration reverberating through your entire body." I'M SILENTLY SCREAMING

"He laughed as you came as if you were just a prey he was playing with" I swear I hate him SKSKSKSK

"Jason looked around, trying to remember where he’d last put his condoms on, before your voice void his mind of any coherent thought." IF ONLY YOU TWO KNEW AAAAAA

"He didn’t lick it, instead just placing it there before lowering himself to give you a kiss, making sure you two got to taste your second late night snack together." AAAAA👁👄👁

"you barely missed Jason’s body falling beside you. You also missed his arms wrapping around your waist, and his face snuggling into your neck." YOU CAN'T JUST DO THAT AND EXPECT MY HEART NOT TO MELT

I know I didn't noted a lot of things from the smut (SO GOOD BTW *chef's kiss*) but I was busy using all my imagination lmao

I WAS WORRIED SHE DIDN'T REMEMBER ANYTHING

UH OH SHE'S FREAKING OUT

"while your jeans were perfectly folded on top of a chair." ohh there they were🤓

"you stepped on something that bit your leg in return, a loud hiss forcing your eyes to the black kitten clutched to your leg. Shaking the cat off of you, you proceeded with your run of shame." SHAKING THE CAT SKSKSJSSJ I'm cracking a laugh in the middle of this stress😂

"His sad eyes, frown and pressed closed lips a memory from his heartbreak." NOOOOO MY BABY🥺

What a rollercoaster of a chapter, I LOVE IT!!

THANK YOU FOR SHARING YOUR STORY WITH US❤❤❤

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢 ; 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: a helping hand turns an enemy into a friend for one single night of truce. one single night that ends up redefining their entire relationship, the start of where everything is about to change.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: 6,4k warnings: mentions of heavy drinking, sex, p in v, oral (female receiving), fingering, language, size kink, breast play, male dominance, jason's sex stimulated superiority complex

a/n: the fact this was supposed to be way longer scared me of how many chapters i might need to end this series lol. and i tried making it possible to read without the context of the series for those who just want to read a nice smut lol. also, thank you for all the support thus far, it has been incredible seeing so many people invested in this story and wanting to see its development. thank you thank you thank you for supporting this silly writer's dream. ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

Thanks, man. Have a good night. Shutting the door closed behind him, Jason thanked the driver before he watched his Uber ride drive his car away, turning the corner and leaving the street he was left on. The night was cold and dark, the faint lighting of the streetlamp doing nothing to provide him a clear view of his ambiance, instead, all was gloom.

 Standing on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building, he let out a deep, long sigh. It was late, really late, past 1am the last time he checked, and the weight of the alcohol in his system begged him to find his way to bed. But the soft, barely audible, breaths of the lady behind him reminded Jason he still had a task ahead: getting you to his apartment.

As a strong wind blew past him, he zipped his jacket up, protecting himself from the unusually chilly night, for this time of the year at least, and turned on his heels to find you resting against the stony wall of the old structure, eyes narrowly managing to remain open. You felt the weather as much as he did, hugging yourself to acquire some type of warmth despite your inappropriate attire.

Carefully, he approached your sleepy frame and guided you inside, a hand placed on your back the entire walk up the stairs. Jason’s building was old, but well maintained.  Meaning, it looked decent for all the decades it’d been through, but didn’t have an elevator casting on whoever lived on the last floor (Jason) the curse to climb all the way up every single day.

Already struggling due to the alcohol and tiredness, halfway through your journey you let out a moan without realizing. Your pace grew slower, and you lacked the effort to simply lift your legs and place your foot on the next step.

“Come on, love. We’re getting closer.” Jason said, pausing right behind you. He had to hold his laugh as you turned back to face him, eyes watery and lips sticking out in a pout.

“Why didn’t we use the elevator? Do you hate me?” you cried.

“Not everyone has daddy’s money to afford an apartment with an elevator,” he joked, but your response caught him by surprise, as your face crunched into a sort of angry expression mixed with a tint of sadness.

“I’m not… I…” you tried to mumble out, but failed countless times. “My feet hurt!”

Sighing deeply once more, he pushed you up by your waist, hands placed safely around you but alway mindful of its position. As you reached the next floor, you thanked your slow mind tonight for not allowing a scream to leave your mouth when Jason grabbed your legs and lifted you up so he could carry you to his apartment.

You had to say, it should’ve surprised you that he carried you with what seemed like a total lack of effort on his part, like you weighed nothing. However, you knew him. You knew he spent countless hours training at the gym, to the point you often wondered if he didn’t live there as well. That he’d often pass you carrying up to eight different weight plates in one single trip to use in his next exercise.

It did surprise you he could carry you. It surprised you he actually did it.

On his arm, the sweet coconut smell reached your nose, and you had to hold yourself from feeling sick. The alcohol was doing its job on you, and gosh you hated it. Tiredness taking over, you rested your head on his shoulder and fought against yourself to keep your eyes open.

“How much do you lift?” you mumbled a question, poking the bicep within your reach. You felt his breath hit your skin as he let out a soft chuckle.

“A lot more than you weight.” he stated, and continued his climb silently until you two were inside his deliciously warm and scrupulously tidy apartment. “Come,” he called after you when your feet were back on the ground. You followed him through the darkened living room until he opened a door and turned the light on in his bedroom. “You can sleep here, I’ll take the sofa.”

Your polite and sober side wanted to complain, to offer to sleep on the sofa instead, but your drunk and seriously exhausted one just wanted to throw yourself on the bed. Accepting the drunk side’s victory, you sat down with a noise and laid on his bed, eyes closing soon after, but being forced to open as you felt the mattress sink right beside you.

Struggling to lift your head, you found Jason bent down to catch your feet, loosening the laces of your converse and helping you take them off. “Thank you,” you whispered, eyes closed as you sat up again and started to unhook your bra from beneath your shirt.

Jason got nervous, eyes quickly shifting from you to the floor, not knowing what to do. Pulling your bra off through one of your sleeves, he took it as his key to leave you alone before you could start stripping off your pants too. Standing up, he reached the bedroom door just as you were climbing under the duvet, head laying on the pillow with eyes already closed. 

He knew that, in your state, it wouldn’t be long before you were in deep slumber. So, turning off the lights, peeking at you one last time, he closed the door behind him. Careful to not make any noise. Careful not to wake you up. Unaware of the smile gracing his lips.

It’d been well over an hour since you had fallen asleep. The darkness still loomed outside, but the dim lighting of Jason’s side table lamp illuminated his living room, casting a shadow upon his body.

Jason couldn’t fall asleep, for some reason. He had tried lying down and forcing his eyes closed, had tried listening to whale sounds, rain sounds, brown, blue, black, white, purple noises. Nothing. Nothing seemed to put him to bed, not even his half drunk state.

So, feeling exhausted, he stood up from the sofa and went to the small kitchen to make himself some tea, hoping it would help him give in to sleep. He tried to be quiet, mindful of his guest still sleeping in his bed, filled his red mug with the tea and returned to the sofa, sitting beside his also sleeping kitten, whose snores were too loud for a beast of his size. 

The drink was warm, and the taste pleased him just enough. He immediately felt more relaxed, letting the warmth fill his entire body, as he laid back onto the sofa and he could really feel like he was starting to rest.

On the other hand, you woke up confused. It was dark, and the pillows were comfortable, but they didn’t smell like your soap, nor did you find your childhood plush toy just within reach on your bed. Suddenly sober, you almost jumped off the bed before the memories started flooding your mind.

Shit. You definitely weren’t home, and this home certainly wasn’t from someone you wished it was. Slowly, you remembered Jason helping you take your shoes off, remembered him helping you up the infinite stairs of his building. And gosh, you remembered his damned smirk while he flirted with you.

You were pissed. P-i-s-s-e-d. Pissed. Why did you do that, Yn? Why did you end up here? Where the fuck did Nessie go to and why didn’t you go home?

In the darkness, you felt your feet touch the cold wooden tiles and you had to bring them back up quickly, not expecting the chilly night weather, but soon remembering how cold you’d felt just before coming to his apartment. 

Your bare legs were feeling it too, and you struggled to find your pair of jeans. It wasn’t anywhere, goddamn it. There was no way you’d go out in only your shirt. You had to find something, and remembering you were in a 6 foot tall monster, you knew he ought to have something around. 

Blindly skirmishing through the room, you felt the soft cotton fabric of what seemed to be a hoodie and put it on. It fit largely on you, the hem falling on the middle of your thighs, and the strong smell of perfume lingering from it.

With light footsteps, you got to the door. Twisting the handle with care, you heard the cracking sound of the door as you opened it, exposing the dimly lit living room. Jason heard the same cracking sound you did, his head jolting back so fast he felt the muscles on his neck aching. 

There you were, hidden behind the door, a string of light illuminating your shape. You still looked sleepy, your cheeks puffed, and the minimum makeup you wore looked smashed on your face. But then, his eyes fell on your body, how your legs were bare and you somehow wore his favorite red hoodie.

Wow. Just, wow!

“Hey” he greeted, waving awkwardly in your direction. You only offered him a shy, toothless smile, eyes scanning the room and landing everywhere but him. “Did I wake you?” he asked, voice tinged by worry.

“No,” you shook your head, meeting his eyes for a brief while. His stare gave you goosebumps, and you returned your eyes to the floor, the tiling giving you more comfort. “I just… woke up.”

An awkward silence fell before you, neither brave enough to look at the other. The air was warm, you didn’t know if it was a sudden weather change or if it was the lingering tension between you two.

“I,” you started, and he immediately looked at you. “I think I’m gonna head home.” you announce, trying to return to the safety of his bedroom.

“No way,” he denied. “It’s almost 4am, Yn. There’s no way I’m letting you out this late. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

Sighing, you accepted defeat without even trying to counter argue, aware his decision was well intended, and you too didn’t feel like facing the gloomy and dangerous streets of Gotham at this hour of the night. So, you just nodded, looking back into the room without moving your feet.

“Can I give you something?” he then questioned. “I mean. Do you want anything? Food, water?” Like clockwork, your stomach roared, making your cheeks go red and a smirk to appear on Jason’s face. “I don’t have much in my pantry, but I can make you a sandwich.”

Standing up, he walked to the kitchen once again, mug in hand being left on the sink. He seemed to move around the small area seamlessly, his bigger size never slowing him down. He opened cabinets, taking out of it a couple of dishes and a bag with a long and crusty baguette. Slicing the bread in half and then open, he set it on the plates, spreading butter on top and fishing for the other ingredients from various parts of the kitchen.

“I’m not a chef, you know,” Jason told you while he fished for the cheese, the ham, the vegetables and something else from the fridge. In normal human arms, they’d probably have fallen due the lack of space, but they all seemed to fit in pretty well in his much larger ones. “But I do enjoy cooking sometimes.”

His whole energy levels seemed to rise, and a sparkle tingled in his eyes. He seems to really enjoy it, you thought, watching the scene unfold from the same spot under the doorframe you were not even two minutes before. He was swift, picking things up and down , left and right, with ease and started constructing a delicious looking late night meal.

With watchful steps, you walked closer, something in you wanting to watch him in action from up close. Too enticed by the way he moved, the way he meticulously cut the tomatoes, a green vegetable, that you didn’t recognize due to your total lack of cooking skills, and the garlic before shoving them on a blender. The noise that proceeded, a disturbance of the silence that reigned on the night, but when it ceased, the smell that spread across the room seemed all worth it.

Continuing his craft, he was swift, picking things up and down with ease, spreading butter on the bread, adding cheese, sliced turkey from the smell of it, and the tomatoes. He grilled it on a pan he had started to heat while he assembled your snacks, and shortly after, placed a plate with the sandwich in front of you on the kitchen island.

“I didn’t know if you liked pesto, so I left it here for you to dip in if you want.” he stated, placing a small bowl with the green sauce he’d blended together earlier.

“Wow,” was all you could manage to say, the sandwich’s look worthy of those pins you’d constantly save on Pintrest but never make it yourself. Picking it up with one hand, you wanted to try it first on its own, your stomach getting louder, apparently aware you were just about to fill it and getting anxious over the masterpiece crafted just before your eyes. “Hmmm,” you hummed loudly, closing your eyes and enjoying the taste, your mouth already watering for one more bite.

You heard Jason’s breathy laugh, and your attention was instantly brought back to him. Supported by his elbows on the marble island, he sat beside you, his side profile a beautiful view from where you stood. He had a smirk on his lips, not smug or annoying or flirtatious like he usually had, but a lighthearted and fun one. One that didn’t drive you insane.

Looking at him, though, side by side with you, after making you a sandwich at almost 4am in the morning, you felt a lump on your throat you could not explain or justify. It was something no one had ever done for you and for some reason you wanted to cry. But you wouldn’t, instead, opting to do the sanest thing anyone could do in your position.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, his eyes darting to yours and his eyebrows doing their annoying move and lifting up in question. “For everything. Tonight, especially, but at the hospital too. You were really kind and you didn’t have to do either of those things. So, thank you, really.”

A smile you could not decipher clouded his lips, and his eyes shone with a glint of mischievousness you could not mistake. “Say it again?” he joked, and you had to roll your eyes.

“Jerk.”

“Sounds more like you,” he sneered, finally taking a bite out of his sandwich. He dipped it in the sauce, taking another bite, and you took your time admiring his jaw clenching as he chewed. “But you don’t need to thank me. I hurt you that day and it was the polite thing to do. And I couldn’t just leave you drunk at the party, it didn’t seem right.”

“Why not?” you questioned. “There were many other drunk girls at the party.”

“Yeah, but none of them looked like they didn’t belong there,” he stated, soon regretting letting those words out of his lips. He knew it’d bring out more questions, and he didn’t want to spend his night explaining how you would linger in his head on a daily basis.

“Why not?” If Jason wasn’t so tired, he’d notice you’d felt insulted.

“I don’t mean today,” he said, playing with the sauce with his sandwich. “You were having fun today, but I’ve seen you before…”

“Why?” you insisted impatiently.

“Because people go to parties for either or two things: to have fun with their friends or to find a hookup,” he lifted two of his long fingers to you. “That day, you were clearly alone. You stood to the side all night, not talking to anyone, almost barking at whoever came closer. Option one impossible. And you also weren’t exposing too much skin to fit into the other.”

“I was having fun tonight!” you tried to argue.

“Yeah, but your friend had disappeared. And you were too drunk. I couldn’t leave you there, alone to the wolves,” he concluded, staring deep into your eyes. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if I did.”

He seemed honest. And nice. Actually nice, like, he looked like a decent person, not the one you villainized in your thoughts every day. He was nice, a sweetheart, and a great cook if his sandwich was any indication of what else he could do in a kitchen. It wasn’t supposed to, but it only made you madder at him. You wanted to punch his face while also giving him a kiss. Stop it, Yn, don’t go that far.

You were quiet, not knowing what else to say. Jason decided on not speaking too, buried in his own thoughts, afraid he’d let too much out. Finishing your food, you dipped the bread into the pesto when the intrusive thoughts came over, and for once, you let them win.

“No…” Jason gasped when he felt the cold sauce on his cheek. You let out a good chuckle, looking at the green stain on his face. Your masterpiece. But Jason was competitive, he wouldn’t let you win. So, he dipped his own bread in the sauce and tried to do the same as you, but you held his arms to stop him before he could stain yet another one of your shirts. His in this case.

It took all your strength to keep his arms away, your laughter, louder than it had been in a long while, making the job much more difficult. “Jason,” you screamed when he got too close for your liking, but you managed to hold his hand and, to his surprise, took one bite of his weapon.

You really couldn’t stop laughing. Tears formed in your eyes from it, and all Jason could do was shake his head and finish the last bite of his sandwich you’d left for him. He felt good seeing you smile again, laughing even, and he just confirmed it was now one of his favorite sounds. It wasn’t polished, it was loud, fun. Everything you usually weren’t, but proof you could be sometimes, if only you’d allow yourself to let loose.

He waited till you calmed down, taking deep breaths to steady it. Then, you stretched your arms to grab a towel opposite of you on the islands, cleaning your hands before looking back at him. “Here,” you called.

His heart stopped. Your hands going for his chin and pulling his face closer to yours, cleaning the pesto stain you’d left on his cheek. Jason had never seen you from this close, every detail exposed to him. The way you sucked in your cheeks in concentration, as you cleaned his face, your soft touch barely brushing his skin, aware not to give him any type of skin irritation.

From this close, he could get a better glimpse of your lips. How they were plumb from you biting on it, how reddish they were, how soft they looked. He watched them as the tip of your smile briefly lifted up. And then, watched your tongue leaving them wet.

You were aware of closeness too. But you had committed to cleaning the stain, you couldn’t show him any weakness now. Pulling away slowly, you noticed his eyes lingering on your lips, setting your stomach in a spiral. He bit his lips, lifting his eyes to look at yours through his lashes, and your heart nearly stopped. Your breath hitched, and you had to look away.

“Hmm,” you started, avoiding his gaze and himself entirely. “I think I’ll go back to bed, it’s late.”

Something inside Jason dropped, and he felt a weight in his chest. You stood up quickly, and walked back into the bedroom without looking back. Fuck, he wanted to scream, but he had to contain himself. So, he stood up, set the plates on the sink and made his way back to the sofa. The tightness in his jeans making it uncomfortable to walk.

Resting against the door as you closed it, you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your heart raced, wanting to break free from your chest, and you felt the warmth rising from within you. Your legs trembled a little, and your mind flew to things you did not wish to think of right now.

You couldn’t give in. You couldn’t. Jason meant trouble, and trouble meant bad things. You couldn’t let yourself fall for it again. You couldn’t invite trouble in, even if it looked as pleasing as he did. He was nice to you tonight because he was polite, but you knew his type well and knew it never ended well. He was just like the others, he’s not perfect, stop it!

A knock on the door broke you from your thoughts, and as if caught doing something bad, you were quick to react to opening it.

“Can I just get some clothes?” Jason asked, heading poking inside. “I just don’t want to sleep in the same clothes from the party.”

Giving him space, you allowed him in. He gave you a weak smile as he pass you, going in the direction of his closet. He indeed was wearing the same outfit from earlier, jeans, and a white shirt you could notice had some green stains on it. Karma.

“I’ve noticed you found my hoodie,” he pointed out while fishing for his pajamas, making your cheeks burn red. You went to apologize, but he was quicker to continue. “You can keep it, if it makes you comfortable.”

He turned back to face you, and you offered him a smile in gratitude. Suddenly mindful of your exposed legs, you tried to hide it with your hands, but you noticed how it only got his attention in that direction. He was about to leave when something made him stop.

“I need a blanket,” he said, running back to the closet. “Just a minute.”Jason was tall, but he seemingly was part of the crew who would hide their blankets on the tallest shelves, so tall that even he couldn’t reach properly. He stretched his arms up, the heels of his feet not touching the floor, and his shirt lifted up just a little. A treat for a very tired Yn to enjoy.

From your position, you caught a sight of his stomach up to his belly button. The toned muscles on the base of his abs made a perfect V shape, pointing downwards to a place you avoided imagining. A few of his tattoos peeked in and out of view as he moved, decorating his skin in drawings you could hardly identify. The thin line of hair going down the cherry on top of this tempting monstrosity.

Through his white t-shirt, you spotted the silhouette of his  back muscles. Well defined, well designed, strong enough to carry two of you up the stairs, and wide enough making it the perfect canvas to be painted by your nails.

You knew your mind was traveling through a very dangerous territory. You knew where it was going. You knew the consequences, yet you wanted it. You wanted the danger, you wanted the consequence. Just this once. Just this once you wanted the bad, the naughty, the dangerous. You wanted Jason. You wanted him. You wanted him.

Fuck, you wanted to scream. Run at him, kiss him. Kiss up the hair line on his stomach, up his abs, his chest. Damn it!

You didn’t notice him moving, wishing you a good night, walking to the door. You didn’t notice any of it. Didn’t notice his intoxicating smell leaving the room, because you knew your mind could make it up pretty quickly. Filling your nose with his inexistent scent. His shadow looming around you, with you at all times.

“Yn,” he broke you from your thoughts. He was worried. You stood still before the bed, not moving since he walked past you, not even your eyes following him along, or moving somewhere else. He’d called you before, but you hadn’t noticed. “Are you alright?”

He’d walked back in, closer to you. Approaching you worriedly, your breathing heavy, eyes now lingering on him. He couldn’t decipher them. They were darker, darker than he’d ever seen them. They hid something, something he couldn’t figure out.

“Yeah,” you breathed out a reply. “I’m fine,” you confirmed, arm extending to touch his chest. Jason’s breath got caught on his throat, and when he looked back at you, he found your eyes, and finally could decipher them. “I’m really fine.”

Sliding your hands from his chest up to his neck, you brought him closer, slamming your lips against his. A shiver climbed up your spine as you felt his tongue immediately sliding inside your mouth, and yours soon fought with him for dominance.

You couldn’t explain it. It just fit. He kissed you hungrily, like he’d been wanting it for long, and you replied with the same ferociousness, wanting him closer, more and more. You fingers tugged at the little hairs at the nape of his neck, and he moaned inside your mouth, the vibration reverberating through your entire body.

His hands roamed your skin. Squeezing your ass, caressing your back from underneath his hoodie. The feeling of his hands around you waking the little hairs on your body wherever they touched, leaving behind a burning sensation, a need for more of his touch all over body.

Stumbling, you two took a few footsteps backwards, feeling the ends of the bed hit your calves. He carefully lowered you on top of it, not breaking your kiss until you were left out of breath. When you two finally broke apart, he took the opportunity to pull his shirt over his head, exposing you to the tattoos you’d had a hard time identifying earlier.

An angel falling graced his left ribs, while something was written underneath his right boob. Overwall, you couldn’t count how many were there, you just knew they made him sexier and your cunt ache harder for him. Lifting yourself up a little, you pulled him back to you by the hem of his jeans, your mouths meeting soon after, afraid that if you had too much time to think about it, your mind would force you to stop whatever the hell this was.

On top of you, lips glued to yours, Jason started grinding his crotch against your clothed core, feeling his hardness through the harsh fabric of his jeans and only eliciting your arousal. Trapping your legs around his waist, you bent your back so you could reach him further, grinding yourself against him in a clothed love making session.

You wanted more. You need more. Desperately wanting him in. It was a wild, primal feeling you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in ages. Or ever at all. You needed him, like you needed air. You needed his tongue all over you, not just on your lips or occasionally traveling to your neck.

His hands slid underneath your shirt, and he broke the kiss to ask you for permission to take it off. His eyes looked at you with a mix of lust and something else, something softer. With a nod, he swiftly had both your shirt and his hoodie thrown off somewhere in his bedroom. 

You didn’t want to waste more time, sliding your underwear off too as soon as your breasts were freed, finding yourself fully exposed to the guy that just a few hours ago you would rather find dead than in his bed. 

Seeing you rush your underwear off, Jason had to stop and admire. Admire your body and all your curves. Your bare chest, your hard nipples, a sight Jason wanted pictured in his mind forever.

He wanted to remember how your excitement dripped off your thighs, its smell reaching his nose, intoxicating him. Driving him crazier for you than he already was. He really wanted to rip his pants off and fuck you right then and there. Slam his dick into you until he had you screaming out his name for the whole neighborhood to hear. But he also wanted to devour you little by little, taste every corner of your skin.

Pulling you closer from under the knee, he spread you open and fell on top of you again, resuming the action on your lips before moving his kisses down your neck and to your chest. He made sure to leave marks wherever he’d go. He made sure to bite, to suck on your skin until little red and purple stains decorated you instead of your shirt.

His hand, once holding tightly at your waist, found its way down too. Sliding to your arousal, he felt his fingers drench wet as they reached your soaked pussy. Finding you like that, so wet from just his kisses and touches, boosted his ego, giving him extra confidence he could do to you whatever he wanted.

Pushing one finger into you, he felt your body jolt up. He laughed against your skin as his mouth finally found its way to your breasts. He fucked you with one finger while sucking harshly at your nipples. You moaned loud, already feeling a tightness forming on your belly, that sweet but painful sensation you hadn’t felt in a while.

When he pushed another finger inside of you, speeding up his movements in and out while his thumb managed to somehow rub at your clit till it ached, it didn’t take long for you to see black spots in your sight. It did take long for your back to arch up, a muffled scream leaving your lung.

Nibbling at your nipple still, Jason took your moans and screams as motivation. He laughed as you came as if you were just a prey he was playing with, mocking your petite, fragile frame underneath him. Slapping your cunt, he moved his mouth to quickly play with your neglected boob before his tongue drew a line from between your breasts to the entrance to your core.

You could already feel your breath leaving your lungs, your mind half numb from your orgasm and tiredness. His breath hit your folds, as he pecked his way down to your entrance, licking from your ass to your clit, as you had to put a hand over your mouth to stop your screams.

Like a thirsty dog, Jason licked you up and down between your lower lips. His whole mouth stuffed on your vagina, enjoying your sweet taste filling his taste buds. You squirmed from the sensasion, so much he had to pin you down with his strong arms. You tried to push his head away, tug on his hair, anything to make him stop, already aching down there. But it also felt good, and you could feel another orgasm growing inside you.

However, he removed his face from your cunt as soon as he felt you were about to come. He was enjoying torturing you, making you weak to his touch. He wasn’t going to give in much easier, but he also needed to feel you. Feel you around him, sucking him dry till he himself was left just a moaning mess.

Fumbling with the button and zipper of his pants, he managed them down his legs, pulling with them his boxers, letting his hard penis hit against his stomach. You let out a gasp when you saw his erection, already knowing it was going to hurt but be so worth it. He was thick, probably the size of your hands around it, and just long enough.

Jason looked around, trying to remember where he’d last put his condoms on, before your voice void his mind of any coherent thought.

“Fuck me, Jason,” you begged, hands reach to touch his dick. “Please, fuck me.”

“Fuuuck,” he let out a loud and prolonged groan, forgetting everything and placing himself at your entrance. He pushed the tip in, getting a painful moan out of you. You were tight, but he was going to make himself fit. 

Collecting your juices, he rubbed it along his shaft, pressing himself in ever so slowly. As he entered, you molded yourself perfectly around him, taking him in entirely eventually. He let you adjust, allowing you to get used to his size. Lowering down, he pulled you into another kiss. This time, deeper, slower, hotter.

He started with slow thrusts, moving out entirely before placing himself back in. You moaned and your body jumped every time he moved. His low groans on your ear making you wetter, and his speed started to pick up. 

The sound of skin hitting skin getting louder, filling the room along the strong smell of your sinful act. The bed creaked and hit against the wall along with Jason’s thrusts. He started to gain more and more speed, taking one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder.

He modded as the action gave him more access to your cunt, speed going so fast your boobs bounced up and down vigorously. With the spare had the wasn’t holding your leg up, he reached for your clit and your moans only got louder, screaming Jason’s name like a fucking prayer. Begging for release.

He’d sobered up from the party a long time ago, but he was getting drunk on the sight of your glistening skin, coated in sweat, screaming his name as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Not rolling out of anger, or annoyance. But because he was making you feel so fucking good you couldn’t control yourself anymore.

Jason felt like a king. Total control over you as you felt your mind go numb, drunk on his cock, drunk on the sensation he was giving you. He moved his hips harshly, slamming against your wet core like a MMA fighter fights his opponent. He felt the growing knot on his abdomen, speeding his thumb’s movements, wanting you to cum along with him.

A few more thrusts had you screaming so loud Jason had to put his hands over your mouth to shut you up, afraid his neighbors wouldn’t enjoy your fucked up symphony. He felt your release hitting his cock and he too released inside of you, feeling your walls clenching around him, milking his ball dry of any cum he had to offer.

The room was now filled with groans and heavy breaths. The air was thick and warm, and the smell of sex sticking to every corner. He pulled out, watching you juices mixed up and dripping off your pussy. Sticking a finger inside, he took some of you mixed orgasm and put it on his tongue. He didn’t lick it, instead just placing it there before lowering himself to give you a kiss, making sure you two got to taste your second late night snack together.

When you pulled away, begging for air, he had his forehead rested on yours. His eyes were closed, and his hair stuck to your forehead from sweat. Something you’d seen many times at the gym, now got a completely new meaning to you. One you enjoyed a lot more, seeing and making it happen.

You too closed your eyes, tiredness weighing your lashes down, as you barely missed Jason’s body falling beside you. You also missed his arms wrapping around your waist, and his face snuggling into your neck. Soon falling into slumber, a delicious ache on your core, as the dream world quickly took over you.

It wasn’t until hours later that the bright sun beams hit your eyes, or the loud noises of Gotham’s traffic found your ears. Eyes taking too long to open, as you woke up more tired than usual. Your body ached in pain, every muscle seemingly sore, but you didn’t remember going to the gym yesterday.

You only remembered you had to work and ended up getting drunk at a party. You remembered getting mad at your parents and deciding you had to release all your anger doing something they’d despise. You remembered your gym enemy taking you home. To his or mine? You wondered, eyes finally opening to the unknown bedroom.

Fuck. Looking behind you, you found Jason’s body spread on the same bed you now laid, and you quickly became aware of your own lack of an outfit. No, no, no. You went too far. You were just supposed to get drunk at a party, not fuck a stranger, Yn. Not fuck fucking Jason!

Carefully removing the duvet off of you, you slipped out of bed and fished for your clothes around his bedroom. Your shirt was tangled on his hoodie you had worn last night, and your panties were thrown on the other side of it. Your bra rested on the bedside table on Jason’s side of the bed, while your jeans were perfectly folded on top of a chair.

You tried to be quiet, to put your clothes back on without making any noise. But your own constant shits and fucks didn’t help your case, and as you buttoned your jeans you heard shuffling on the bed. Jason rubbed his eyes, trying to understand what was going on. “Yn? What are you…”

“THIS IS FUCKED UP!” you screamed, his eyes jolting open at your reaction. “We shouldn’t have done this, Jason.”

“Woah, I didn’t do it alone.” he replied, feeling annoyed at the tone you’d been treating this interaction with.

“We shouldn’t. We…” you wanted to cry, pissed off you’d let yourself sleep with him of all people. Taking your shoes, you rushed out of the room, wanting all of this to be just a silly little memory of a silly little moment when you had lost control.

Opening the door to the living room, you stepped on something that bit your leg in return, a loud hiss forcing your eyes to the black kitten clutched to your leg. Shaking the cat off of you, you proceeded with your run of shame.

“Yn!” Jason screamed after you, but your feet never ceased, and you ran down the stairs. Eyes only jumping up to find him as he stood by the door. The towel you’d cleaned his cheeks with hardly managing to hide his groin. The last sight you got of him haunting you for the days that followed. His sad eyes, frown and pressed closed lips a memory from his heartbreak.

.

.

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[atikahsudi]

『The Last Dragon』

Wizard Swannie is a wizard chosen by the Wakita Kingdom and she has betrayed King Wakita because she has friends from the demon people..this is the story a few months ago

there was a terrible war in Wizard City because kept a red gem which is the spirit of OldStoryAu the first Star Demon, so many the demon people want to take the stone because the stone can fulfill their wish and become the strongest person in the world then.. many demon people attacked Wizard City.. many Wizards died due to the ambush of the demon people..

the gem almost fell into their hands but fate The King Wakita had time to come and stop all the Demon people from taking the gem, their fight was so terrible that it shook the world!! Until half of the Wizard city was destroyed due to their attack.. The demon people retreated from the Wizard City and ran away.. many were killed in the war after the war was over many Wizards were injured and they were treated. Wizard Swannie was also slightly injured after that she heard a strange noise under the ruins of the building,Swannie went to see what it was.. she saw that it was a teenage dragon.. who was seriously injured and his body was hit by the rubble Swannie didn't even bother to see people in trouble but she knew that the dragon was her enemy but she still took the dragon to her place which was her house.. Swannie treated the unconscious dragon.... After a few hours, the dragon woke up from unconsciousness and he was surprised where is he .. Swannie enters her room The Dragon immediately attacks Swannie and says where is he and why is he here .. Swannie tells the dragon he is in Swannie house, the Dragon is silent and looks at the window and continues to fly out without saying anything to Swannie..after a few days later..

Swannie just wanted to see her friend Hudson when she was walking in the forest she saw the dragon she saved and Swannie saw that the Dragon was sad.. Swap asked the dragon why she was sad.. the dragon was surprised to hear a voice from behind.. the dragon was angry with Swannie !! Because the gem lost all its Clans !!.. Swannie was shocked and he said that it was not the dragon Clan that attacked her Town first. The Dragon said they don't want the stone to become powerful they just want their life back.. because the gem has controlled all the demon people and told all the demon people to release their King from the gem prison and Swannie understood why they did that.. but the Dragon was very sad because all his people had died due to the order of their King.. Swannie did not see the condition of the Dragon so she helped the dragon.. the dragon was still angry with her but Swannie still wanted to help him.. After a lot of effort Swannie finally managed to make the dragon become his friend... The Dragon has admitted that he lost to this Swannie attitude.. after a few months they became good friends.. one of the Wizards saw the Wizard Swannie be friends with the dragon people.. so the Wizard told the Wizard government said Wizard Swannie betrayed the King..

Father Wizard was shocked and continued to call Wizard Swannie.. and received punishment.. Wizard Swannie begged for forgiveness and said she was only helping but father Wizard didn't accept her reason and continued to hit .. . At the same time.. the dragon looked from a distance Swannie was hit by someone and he saw Swannie crying because of the very hard hit so the dragon was angry because he had lost his people so he didn't want to lose his best friend.. The dragon continued to get angry and became a ferocious dragon and continued to breathe fire at Wizard's father many Wizards were shocked by the attack.. many Wizards fought the dragon but the dragon was completely out of control and he continued to grow and breathe fire all over the city.. Swannie had woken up from the blow that strong and saw the dragon terrorizing. Swannie was shocked and saw many injured.. Swannie took her magic wand and flew in front of the dragon and said calm down loudly!!! The dragon stopped and looked at Swannie.. Swannie told the truth to all the Wizards.. and the Wizards understood why they acted violently.. the dragons are actually good people but they have been controlled.. so father Wizard forgive the dragon what what they have done to his people... then the Dragon can be friends with Swannie.. so Swannie will take care of the Dragon if the dragon does something to so Swannie will be punished

[fictifile]

I have a lot to say about this – and honestly, most of it is only tangentially relevant to the scene above – but one of the things I’m really loving about Monster Manor is how well-crafted it is as a homage. When we first met Casimir, I expected him to be a total knock-off from Beauty and the Beast, and I think it’s impossible to argue that he’s not very obviously inspired by the Disney movie – he’s a 1700s French nobleman, he lives in a sentient house, he has a giant mane in monster form and he’s even red-haired and blue-eyed in human form, come on. But he’s also very different from the Beast in some very important ways, and – as the story goes on, we see those differences more and more. In Chapter 1, we learn that his grumpiness is not so much because he’s angry with the world, but because he’s literally just not used to having people around and hasn’t had the best experience with the House – once he’s spent a couple of hours around MC, he very quickly adjusts, and rather than being resentful of their stories about the world outside he’s excited and eager to learn more. In the scene above, where we see him ‘go beserk’ for the first time, we learn that it doesn’t happen because he’s angry but because he’s sad – the thing that sets it off is him realising that there’s no one out there with whom he can quite speak his own language anymore. When we see him renovating the house – and in Like Clockwork, where we learn about his tinkering – we learn that he wasn’t actually some terribly spoilt human, he liked to keep himself occupied and doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty. And similarly, the thing that got him cursed wasn’t a pattern of cruelty, it was one careless moment of rudeness in a very strange situation after a very long day. Then we see him dancing in Chapter 4, and we learn that he has actually tried so hard to hold onto the human things in life – still practising dancing even when it took a mannequin to do so, still maintaining his music box until he couldn’t anymore, still doing his laundry so he could dress respectably even when he couldn’t bring himself to (or didn’t know how to) clean the house. And then the House asks MC to stay, and – we see the biggest difference. Because Casimir wants them to stay as well, but – he doesn’t in any way pressure them. The very first thing out of his mouth is that it has to be their choice, whereas in Beauty and the Beast, the Beast’s entire character arc is about learning that it has to be Belle’s choice. And if we look a bit further, Casimir’s attitude also contrasts so many supernatural romantic heroes that ferociously claim the protagonist as ‘theirs’. He’s just an awesome variation on the archetype and I didn’t expect to like him so much, but – I do. I really hope that the writers bring the same energy to all the other monsters that they tackle, and also that they keep giving their first characters a chance to shine as well. That Casimir’s story doesn’t end here.

[fanfic-fugue]

do you think nandor’s sire had a positive or negative view on vampirism?

I've thought about this a lot, so fair warning: long post ahead. For the sake of explanation, I'm viewing positive meaning: they're cool with being a vampire, and negative: they wish they were human/dead.

For a tldr: I think that Nandor's sire most likely had a view on vampirism that wasn't positive or negative, but was either incomplete, out of touch, or narrow minded. Turning Nandor meant they likely considered his bloodthirsty warlord qualities before turning him, and the motive behind that, and why that would be 'deserving' of vampirism in any way doesn't seem like the sire would have a healthy, happy view of their own condition as a vampire, even if they appeared to revel in it. So if I had to say positive or negative, in that regard, I'd say negative.

On the surface, there were a lot of things about Nandor as a human that might have led to a sire thinking he might actually enjoy vampirism, though, so there's a small chance his sire enjoyed being a vampire and wanted to share that with him. I also have some fringe theories...

Did Nandor inherit his view of vampirism from his sire, or was it a consequence of how he was turned?

But to really think about this, we have to think about who turned him, and why.

For me, there are a few options that come to mind for who his sire was: (tagged with whether or not their idea of vampirism is positive/negative)

- someone who he'd slain/maimed in battle, but was turned by a vampire, looking for revenge (negative)

- a vampire who admired Nandor's warlord skills, and wanted someone so relentless on their side (positive)

- similar, but more sad: a vampire who related to Nandor's ruthless, bloodthirsty tendencies, and turned them because it would make them feel less alone.

- a vampire with self-hatred who views all vampires as monsters, irredeemable and cursed, and essentially gave Nandor what they thought he 'deserved' for his actions. (negative)

- one of his wives. I can't imagine she was trying to share a gift with him, since it led to the wives all leaving him, so she might have been a woman scorned, perhaps that she wasn't protected and was turned.

- a random attack by a vampire who was taking advantage of a battle to feed rather publicly and engage in some slaughter too (likely positive view if reveling in the slaughtering)

- a vampire who thought Nandor was slaughtering too many humans, and hurting the food supply (vampire positive, Nandor negative)

There's another scenario floating around in my head though like a angry little worm, because I don't like the idea necessarily:

- Nandor found out about vampires, and saw vampirism as an opportunity to be a stronger and more ferocious warrior. In this case, he would have sought out the vampire himself, and that means the sire's view could go either way.

I think a well-intentioned vampire would have certainly believed Nandor, the bloodthirsty warlord, would have been a great fit for vampirism, even if they didn't necessarily like it themself. So if Nandor approached them, even a vampire like Nandor is in 700 years, who views it as a curse, might have turned him

When we see that Nandor didn't want to turn Guillermo, it wasn't because Nandor viewed it as a curse-- it's because he viewed it as a curse that Guillermo didn't deserve, that was incompatible with his brilliant, human, life, and that didn't deserve to be sacrificed. Again-- Nandor really doesn't understand yet that part of Guillermo's desire this point is to be with him forever, therefore in Nandor's mind, he thinks Guillermo is just making a stupid decision without understanding vampires.

Whew, okay, almost done.

Even though Nandor has a negative view of vampirism, he was very quick to turn Gail though. I don't think this is a scenario we need to consider for his sire though, since I still don't think he and his sire were romantic. I know it's a possibility, but at least from the show we have solid evidence that people who turn partners actually do somehow stay together, which is pretty cool.

I think I covered all my thoughts on this, and I wish I could think of a more cut-and-dry answer, but, there you go!

[shuhuixin]

[rough TL] 19天 211122 update (tianshan part)

mgs: ......

mgs: asshole, you... have you thought about the future?

ht: yeah. i think about it everyday.

mgs, thinking: shit...... the hell does that mean......

mgs, thinking: right... have to ask him if i could borrow his book so i could have it photocopied.

mgs, looking around: cough, cough

[mgs sees ht’s perfect grades]

mgs: the fuck?!

[mgs sees ht’s doodles]

mgs: the fuck...... 

ht, scribble: little chilli was super ferocious again today, i made him so angry and stiff, he could just smash a boulder into pieces.

ht, scribble: if he’s a dog, then i’m his collar and leash, pulling him along everyday.

mgs: dumbass......

ht, scribble: if i was gone, would he be heartbroken*

.

*i know old xian tls this as will he be sad if i leave here, but ht writes it like... if i already left, will he be sad. but the word for sad he uses could also be... be aggrieved or be heartbroken. it means to be very, very, very sad. alternatively, will he be sad if i'm gone.

[bluebellebarrett]

A Little Moment

(Okay, so, time travel!AUs are one of my favourite things, and the idea of tiny little Zhen Yan and Zhou Zishu is also one of my favourite things, and so I’ve put them together in this short little...thing. Enjoy?)

“Yan’er!”

Zhen Yan huffed, wiping at his eyes, determined to ignore his shixiong’s calling. It would take even Zhou Zishu a while to find him out here, hidden in the woods outside of town, and Zhen Yan was sure he could stop himself from crying by the time Zishu tracked him down. He hadn’t meant to overhear his parents talking to Qin Huizhang, but he had. And even if he wasn’t sure, exactly, what all the words they’d used meant, he knew enough for the truth to reveal itself to him. His father would never get better. Even with all Mama’s talents, there was only so much she could do.

Zhen Yan sniffled a little and wiped his sleeves a little more furiously over his eyes. He had to stop crying. He wasn’t sure he could bear it, if his shixiong saw him crying again.

“Are you alright, little one?”

Zhen Yan startled. The man had materialized out of the woods without a sound, and even with the concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows, Zhen Yan could tell that he was dangerous. There was a cold sort of edge to the air around the man, a power that sparked in the air, dancing around the mystery man and his wide blue sleeves.

“Who are you?” Zhen Yan demanded instead, turning to fully face the man with a frown. The man smiled at him, crouching down in a flurry of white and blue robes.

“Zhen Yan, don’t cry,” the man murmured instead, reaching out a hand to pat him on the head. His voice is soft, and his face is kind, and Zhen Yan can feel the tears welling up in his eyes again. Oh no. The man has become blurry, the details fading together behind the wall of tears. Zhen Yan sniffled a little, rubbing his sleeve over his face.

“Don’t cry, little one,” the man repeated, pulling Zhen Yan into a hug, which didn’t help at all. It was all too much, his father’s wounds and his mother’s fear and Zhou Zishu’s concern and now, now a stranger being too kind to him. It was too much, and Zhen Yan burst into true sobs, throwing his arms around the man’s neck and burying his face in his shoulder.

“A-Xu,” came another voice, distantly registered above the sound of Zhen Yan’s own sobs. Zhen Yan peeked over the man’s shoulder, tensing a little. This new man was very tall, and his hair was white as snow in the fading sunlight. The new man’s eyes widened a little when he met Zhen Yan’s gaze.

“A-Xu, you’ve made a new friend?” the new man said, addressing the man in blue, who Zhen Yan was still clinging to. A-Xu, the man, hummed in response, his hand on the back of Zhen Yan’s head.

“Sorry for running off, Lao Wen,” he murmured, his voice rumbling in his chest. He moves to stand, and Zhen Yan finds himself clinging tighter to his shoulders. A-Xu smiled at him, and lifted him up as he stood, effortlessly, despite Mama telling Zhen Yan he was too heavy to be picked up anymore.

“I suppose I can forgive you,” the man with the silver hair, Lao Wen, replied, his eyes still fixed on Zhen Yan’s face.

“Let him go!”

Zhen Yan perked up, twisting in A-Xu’s arms. Zhou Zishu had found him at last, wielding a practice sword like it was a real one, his face twisted up with fury. “Let my shidi go!” he repeated, brandishing his makeshift weapon at the two men.

“Ah, A-Xu,” Lao Wen sighed, a smile pulling at the edge of his mouth. “I had forgotten.”

A-Xu rolled his eyes and snorted. “Are you ready to be let down, Zhen Yan?” he murmured, wiping under Zhen Yan’s eyes with his soft blue sleeve.

Zhen Yan nodded, ducking his head in embarrassment. He had not only cried, he’d cried all over this man’s robes, a total stranger! But A-Xu didn’t seem angry with him, only soft and gentle.

“Go back with your shixiong,” A-Xu murmured, but he made no move to let Zhen Yan down. In fact, his hands tightened a little instead.

“Let him go,” Zhou Zishu demanded, annoyed with being ignored. “Zhen Yan is my shidi, and we need to go home. We’re expected.” He waggled his practice sword to emphasize his point.

“My, my,” Lao Wen laughed, “How ferocious you are, child. A-Xu, we’d better let your little friend go, lest we face severe consequences.”

Zhou Zishu glowered up at Lao Wen, his mouth threatening to pull down into a pout.

“Don’t worry, shixiong,” Zhen Yan piped up, “They’re nice.”

“That’s not the point, Yan’er,” Zhou Zishu huffed, “Shifu will worry if we aren’t home for dinner, and I’m sure your mama will too, don’t you think?”

Zhen Yan nodded, agreeing with his shixiong’s logic. “Can you let me down, shushu?” he asked A-Xu. A-Xu blinked his soft eyes at Zhen Yan, his mouth opening a little in surprise.

“Let him go, A-Xu,” Lao Wen murmured, his face changing in a way that Zhen Yan didn’t understand. It made him look distant, like the moon. But A-Xu looked at his companion with those soft eyes and nodded. He bent and set Zhen Yan down.

Almost before his feet were fully on the ground, Zhou Zishu was rushing over to check he was alright.

“I’m fine, shixiong,” he promised, but Zhou Zishu only frowned at him and grabbed his face, tilting it this way and that so he could get a good look.

“You were crying again, Yan’er,” he sighed, a sad look overtaking his frown.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Zhen Yan mumbled, looking down and trying to pull away from his shixiong’s grip.

“Don’t be sorry,” Zhou Zishu scolded, “I know...I know it’s hard for you.”

Zhen Yan blinked up at his shixiong, who was rubbing the back of his neck and looking a little embarrassed himself.

“Don’t be sorry for being sad, Yan’er,” he continued. Zhen Yan couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Whatever shixiong says,” he chirped. Zhou Zishu rolled his eyes and huffed.

“We do need to go,” he pressed, “Shifu will be worried.”

“I want to say goodbye to…” Zhen Yan trailed off as he realized they were alone in the little clearing. “Oh.”

“They must have left,” Zhou Zishu said, crossing his arms. “How rude.”

“Don’t be annoyed, shixiong,” Zhen Yan said, tugging Zhou Zishu’s arms free so he could grab his hand. “Let’s go home.”

Zhou Zishu glanced down at their clasped hands and nodded.

                                                    ---------------

From their perch in the trees, Wen Kexing rested his head against Zhou Zishu’s shoulder.

“You were so cute,” he teased, “I’d forgotten how serious you were.”

Zhou Zishu huffed. “You’re one to talk,” he snapped back, “Tiny Zhen Yan was…” he trailed off a little, a misty cast taking over his eyes. Lao Wen grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight.

“Don’t worry about Zhen Yan, A-Xu,” he murmured, “We’ll be there to save them, this time.”

Zhou Zishu hummed, turning to kiss the top of Lao Wen’s head. Wen Kexing squeezed his hand a little tighter in response.

[dropintomanga]

Sensei’s Pious Lie - Volume 3 Omnibus

“If you’re going to call this feeling something like love, you might as well call it what it is: power. Impossibly foolish, ferocious, an unstoppable juggernaut.”

Love just got messier with the 3rd omnibus edition of Sensei’s Pious Lie and it all ends with a brutal cliffhanger that speaks to Akane Torikai’s willingness to show taboo subjects in all of their glory.

Huge spoilers and talks about sexual violence after the jump.

Misuzu Hara continues to struggle with accepting that she too can be happy in some way with regards to love. Even after her student, Niizuma, tries to comfort her in some way and the two kiss, Misuzu still feels lost. Meanwhile, her abuser, Hayafuji, is struggling with the fact that his wife, Minako, is pregnant. The victim starts to gain more confidence than the rapist and the omnibus ends with a violent exchange that feels way too realistic to those who have experienced sexual abuse.

I’m going to focus first on a scene where readers finally see Hayafuji in a very vulnerable state. Hayafuji decides to see one of his side girls, Reina, in an attempt to ignore his own situation with Minako. When the two of them are on a drive at the mountainside, Reina explains that she feels happy. Hayafuji becomes angry and then starts to yell at Reina for being a love-sick “idiot.” He doesn’t understand why women put themselves out there to be taken advantage of for the sake of “love.” Reina explains that love does make people stupid and if they experience violence, it’s worth it because Hayafuji made her felt wanted. Hayafuji breaks down in tears and admits that he’s not ready for the responsibility of raising a child. This leads to Reina to attempt murder on Minako out of love for Hayafuji, which thankfully was stopped.

This was terrifying and sad to see. Hayafuji is a horrible person and I don’t think he will gain any sympathy points. But damn, it’s refreshing to see a man being vulnerable about the consequences of his actions. It’s rare to see this in a lot of media.

On the other side of the male department, Niizuma gets more character development as he tries out a casual sex encounter with a high school girl due to peer pressure. It doesn’t get really far, but he ends up not liking it. Niizuma calls Misuzu and asks for her forgiveness out of guilt. There’s a scene where Niizuma shows his displeasure after the encounter in graphic detail. 

What I like about the scenes for both Hayafuji and Niizuma is that while they have different personalities, they’re both similar as that they are males who feel trapped by a world that doesn’t mind praising men for touting their sexual prowess. A long while back, I’ve read many stories about casual sex and why people take part in it. I get that having one partner doesn’t solve all of life’s problems and there’s been somewhat more of a greater acceptance of casual sex. I just think that emotions are hard to turn off when it comes to sex. There’s always some kind of intimacy involved. People will always be messy. I do applaud people who partake in casual sex and feel fine about it because they appear to be emotionally resilient. After all, it takes a certain comfort level within yourself to be able to do so.

And that’s probably the lesson here - trying to use sex as a way to solve your vulnerabilities isn’t going to end well. People who encourage that as a solution to personal insecurities may not have your best interests at heart.

The penultimate part of the omnibus comes when a frustrated Hayafuji decides to end his abuse on Misuzu - with an ultimatum. Either he screws her in front of Niizuma or vice versa. Misuzu is unsure of what to do and talks to Niizuma about the situation. She then starts her path to face her sexual trauma head-on. Due to her body being taken by force, Misuzu’s afraid of her own genital area. Misuzu confronts Hayafuji about her vagina and tells him that even though she was afraid of his hatred due to the allure of her privates, she also saw that hope can come out of that allure due to Minako’s birth. Misuzu then says that she forgives Hayafuji so that he can love Minako’s child. A flabbergasted Hayafuji reacts by punching Misuzu in the face repeatedly and he replies that a woman doesn’t get to forgive a man no matter what.

I have no words about what happened in the end. Or more like, it made me think about how little we’re taught about the significance of our private areas. They have the power to give pleasure that can become addicting and the power to give life. I also know that genital shame is a huge thing - especially towards women. As an Asian man, there’s always talks that having a small penis makes you a terrible partner according to stereotypes. I know for women, it’s a lot worse due to female bodies being politicized for all kinds of reasons. Taking some power and ownership of our bodies should be a right for mental health’s sake.

And about what Hayafuji said - it’s arguably a reaction based on something he’s probably witnessed involving a past relationship and the continued loss of his power over the women in his life. So much trauma all coming from an intense feeling that’s supposed to bind us all together. And that’s the beauty of what makes Sensei’s Pious Lie a gritty and vivid look at both sides of the picture for better or worse.

Onwards to the conclusion of it all soon!

[tennessoui]

Ok but in the mobfather series I would love to see something where obiwan puts himself in harms way for Cody. Because we know obi is totally unhinged and not a good person ™️ but Cody is his family forever and obiwan would do anything for Cody.

hi yes this came directly from my burning desire to write a anakin & cody story, so it's probably not exactly what you wanted but I actually like it a lot and I wrote it in a record 15 minutes damn

(1k)

Cody stares at the open door. “I thought you’d be in the hospital.”

“If it makes you feel better, you can put me in the hospital like you did Obi-Wan,” Anakin Skywalker bites out, stepping forward into his apartment, uninvited. Cody doesn’t even know how he found his apartment.

“I didn’t put that goddamn idiot into the hospital,” he snaps back, feeling safe enough to turn his back on Skywalker and return his attention to his own cut open arm.

He’ll need stitches for sure, but it’s much too suspicious for both Obi-Wan and Cody to go to the same hospital for the same sort of wound. Doctors are, usually and regrettably, smart enough to ask questions.

Skywalker stalks forward, still very much uninvited. Cody can’t tell if this arrogance is homegrown or instilled by Obi-Wan’s very obvious need to give him anything he wants.

“He got in the way of the bullet, I didn’t fucking push him,” Cody says sharply, even as Skywalker sits down across the table from him and surveys his own wounds.

It’d been a normal evening, mostly. Skywalker had been somewhere else, thank God, and Cody had stepped in to be not only the boss’ second, but his constant shadow as well.

“For old time’s sake,” Obi-Wan had joked, minutes before someone angry enough at the family had made a move against the person standing closest to the boss. It had been a shot meant for Cody. Obi-Wan had gotten in the way.

Someone must have called Anakin in the interim because when Skywalker pulls Cody’s arm closer to him, his knuckles are busted and bloody.

“Fight night?” Cody asks, even though he knows the answer.

Skywalker raises his eyes to glare at him and then drops them back down to the wound. The attacker had had a knife as well, one that had slashed deep into Cody’s forearm when the guy had gone for the downed mob boss, looking as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

“He’s dead.” Is all Obi-Wan’s pretty bird says, picking through the first aid kit. “Didn’t last long.”

Cody thinks privately to himself that the guy had no chance of surviving at all, not when Skywalker’s eyes look that dark. “Any information?” he asks instead of pointing this out.

Skywalker starts cleaning the wound. The dick doesn’t even warn him it’s going to hurt.

Sure, Cody knows it’s going to hurt, but he also thinks that Skywalker could stand to be more gentle and considerate.

“Thought you were me,” Skywalker finally mutters as he laces the needle and thread. It takes him a few tries. Cody, magnanimously, doesn’t say shit.

“Because we look so much alike,” Cody nods.

Skywalker glares at him. “Don’t make me laugh, I’m pissed as hell at you.”

To accentuate the statement, Skywalker stabs the needle into his skin. “Fucking hell,” he curses. “Warn a man.”

“Thought you were me because you were standing so close. Heard the boss was dating the bodyguard, thought you were me.”

Cody is not drunk enough to deal with the fucking jealousy that permeates the relationship between Obi-Wan and his pretty bird. “You fucking serious?” he asks, taking a swig from the bottle of alcohol Skywalker had cleaned the wound with.

“Deadly,” Skywalker smirks.

Cody watches for a few seconds as Skywalker continues to stitch his wound. “You seriously jealous right now? Enough to come here instead of wait at the hospital?”

“Surgery,” is all Skywalker says. “No good at waiting.”

He makes another two stitches. Cody thinks uncharitably he’s seen better.

“Not jealous,” Skywalker breaks the silence suddenly, hand hovering over the wound. “Glad.”

Cody blinks. Obi-Wan’s currently in the hospital, apparently undergoing surgery because he was stupid enough to take a bullet meant for Cody, and Skywalker is glad?

“That you were that close,” Skywalker elaborates, eyes darting down to his arm again, hand moving in a sudden blur. “That you cared that much. This was just a fluke, wasn’t it? A bullet comes for Obi-Wan, you’d intercept, that’s why you were that close. You just didn’t think one would come for you.”

Cody opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, shocked speechless.

“He’s got family,” Skywalker says, finishing the stitches with a flourish. “I got family too. But if I gotta die for you, Cody, I’m gonna kill you, you gotta know.”

Cody huffs a laugh as Skywalker cuts the thread. “But you would?”

Skywalker hums. “Obi-Wan’d be sad to see you go,” as if this was a hypothetical exit interview and not a funeral. “Don’t want him sad.”

He picks up the spool of bandages by Cody’s elbow. “Don’t want him injured either,” he says, wrapping the arm. “So this was just a fluke, wasn’t it?” When Skywalker looks up at him again, his eyes barely look human. There’s something dark--but emotionlessly so--about them. He ties the bandage and presses his thumb against the covered wound, hard.

Cody can’t stop his wince, but he does bite his tongue to silent the exclamation of pain.

“He got a family he’s gonna want to risk himself to protect, I understand, I got my own.” Skywalker murmurs. “But as his family, we gotta be stupider. We gotta risk ourselves first. Cause you’re not gonna like me if Obi-Wan Kenobi dies on your watch, Cody. And I think you already don’t like me much at all.”

“That a threat, boy?” Cody asks, ripping his arm away and cradling it to his chest. Skywalker stands and Cody follows him because he’s not about to let Skywalker have the high ground bere.

“It’s a promise, Commander,” Skywalker says quietly. Then he flashes his eyes down to Cody’s arm and back up. “Wash that with cold water twice a day, starting tomorrow. I’ll text you when Obi-Wan’s allowed visiting hours.”

And then he’s gone, as suddenly as he came in, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

Cody grabs the handle and slams it shut. A tiny flame of respect sparks in his chest, but he’s ferocious in beating it down. He promised himself many, many months ago, when Skywalker first demanded he make him macaroni and cheese but only the ones with the farm-themed noodle shapes, that he would never, ever respect his boss’s pretty bird.

This changes nothing.

[ultraviolet-vii]

@ghostbcfandomevents

Ghost OC Week - Day 2: Connections

Are they related to any canon characters? Are they in any relationships with a canon character?

So many questions! But they also have their answers: Breeze had been watching Cirrus and Cumulus rehearse for a very long time, and one day they spotted her. At first Breeze was afraid that these "ferocious lionesses," as Cardinal Copia liked to call them, would get angry, but no, they actually chatted nicely all evening. And then they made Rain see Breeze off. It was awkward, but that's how Rain found out that Breeze also liked Keanu Reeves. It would be the beginning of a beautiful friendship (or something more?), I'm sure they would organize a small fan club later on.

Are they related to someone else’s oc?

Yes, sure! I've already told you that my dear @sad-sad-detective and I have a whole AU) Breeze belongs to a clan of Air ghoul organists who greatly respect and honor the oldest of them, Grandpa Windstille. Why Grandpa? He's very old, one of the oldest ghouls in the Abbey, and he has friends just as old - a Fire ghoul who served Primo and a Water ghoul librarian who constantly scolded Copia for sleeping on library books.

Do they have any enemies?

As for enemies, I can't help but tell an absolutely terrific story about the organists' encounter with one fiery ghoul.

To begin with, in our AU, Dew is Rain's older brother (though you wouldn't know it by looking at them). Of course, he's eager to protect his little brother from the dangers of the Surface and the danger is practically anyone who approaches Rain (except for Copia's ghouls - they're like family, after all). One day he notices Rain chatting with Breeze about something, and to warn her off, he starts acting rather rude. Since Dew has a pretty stern temper and explosive personality, of course, Breeze got very upset. Because of this, her clan had a beef with Dew.

One word at a time, and Dew had a conflict with the whole clan, and it would have come to a devastating clash of the two elements, if not for the intervention of Rain and Papa's secretary. To cool his older brother's fervor, Rain not only had to pour ice-cold water on him, but he also hissed at him. Then the secretary took the stunned and downhearted Dew to serve his punishment in the form of the most dreadful job of all - cleaning the cathedral. But Rain became very ashamed and came to help his brother, and other ghouls of the clan came after him. To their surprise, the Air ghouls turned out to be very resilient and came to help them, too. So this seemingly horrifying story ended in a truce, though Breeze is still afraid of Dew. But we can understand her, who wouldn't be afraid of such a stern, fiery ghoul?