#you cannot be disrespecting Whatever it is that resides there like that

[junkyardromeo]

people on tiktok saying there’s nothing inhuman and strange in appalachia have clearly never spent time in appalachia like son watch your mouth

[pillowspace]

Hello! I know i'm a bit late now but i just caught up on Celestial Sundown and I love your writing! I was looking through the tag and saw the ask you answered about probably not continuing it but willing to answer questions. If you still plan on not finishing it could you share what you had planned for it? Specifically i'm curious about what eclipse was going to do (or at least what they planned on doing) with y/n in the next chapter, but if you feel like sharing what you had planned for the rest of the story I would love to hear that too!

Weather you answer this or not i hope you have a great day/night!

It's a bit hard to gather all the memories considering I lost my file with my plans in it when I switched phones (eh idc, it was all messy anyway), but let me think ummm!

Eclipse was going to drag Y/N off... they'd carry them towards Sun's general direction because Y/N's struggling to walk, but then eventually Eclipse would also start struggling to walk as they would get all goopy and just generally Unwell. So Eclipse would sit Y/N down somewhere by the trees and they'd talk. Ah-! Notably, I believe there wassss... a scene where Y/N asks if Eclipse is talking about "Sun," though by just simply asking "Sun?". Because Sunna (Eclipse's sun half) also technically went by the name Sun, Eclipse would sort of freeze up and Stare, before Y/N elaborates on what they're asking and Eclipse gets a little bitter to learn that the god of Day would go by the name "Sun" of all names. It feels a tad bit disrespectful, even if the children are the ones who nicknamed them that.

After a bit of tense conversation, they'd move on to walking again, and I think Sun was meant to find them. Things don't really work out for Eclipse due to the fact that Eclipse is currently more injured than Sun is, so in a last ditch effort, Eclipse brings Y/N to the Celestial Realm, which of course freaks Y/N out the second they realize what's happening. It wouldn't be exploratory though, only brief, as they would end up appearing in a dark room within the castle Eclipse resides in. Something about the air would feel different though, wrong. Eclipse would leave Y/N there to go recover or get something for them, whichever it was. Thennn... Vanny/Vanessa/whatever would have appeared, telling Y/N that they're not supposed to be here yet, they'd talk a tiny bit, and then she would send Y/N back home? Sorry, I don't remember much of the specifics of that conversation?? Upon appearing back home, Y/N would then feel nauseous and somehow deeply Wrong, like briefly being outside of their own realm then returning suddenly made them realize just how much it feels like the air is outright rejecting them. But that the Celestial Realm also didn't feel much better either. Y/N doesn't have much time to think about it before Sun is there at their side. From there, Sun would work on treating them for the next few days, in a bit of a mirror to how Y/N had treated Sun at one point. I... cannot recall if Y/N also grew sick or if it was just the injuries.

Oh! Right! During the conversation with Eclipse, I believe Eclipse mentioned the fact that um... gosh, I don't know, um um um. Either that they had intended to kill Sun, that Sun was injured enough that he would have died had Y/N not meddled with it, or that Eclipse would have returned after having woken up to deal a killing blow if again Y/N hadn't treated him. SOMETHING along the lines of "Sun would be dead if it weren't for you." Y/N would eventually bring this up to Sun after mostly recovering, and it would sort of unintentionally burst any wiggle room Sun had in physically being able to pretend that he had a normal debt and not a life debt. I've mentioned this once, but there's a very big difference between a debt and a life debt. If you have a life debt, the person involved sort of... Owns you. They can demand anything of you, and you wouldn't be able to refuse. A life debt is also extremely hard to get rid of. It's seen in Celestial Realm's cultures that having a life debt with a human is very bad and leads to gods being forced into their lowliest position, like a pet on a leash that can be demanded to do anything practically. Sun panics the moment they lose their little shield of "well I COULD have lived without you...!" Even if the two of them want to trust each other, they don't trust each other ENOUGH for a life debt to not cause Sun fear. Upon realizing why Sun is suddenly so freaked out, Y/N quickly reshapes their speech habits to not have any commanding language. Over the next little while, Y/N would build trust up with Sun again and assure him again and again that they would never demand anything of him, and that this life debt hasn't changed anything for them. They didn't want anything before, and they don't want anything now. No matter how easy it would be.

That's less just NEXT chapter, and more what the next few chapters would've probably been. Of course, there was way more plans for the general storyline, but I... I wouldn't really know where to begin with all that without a specific question, and this answer's gotten long enough already.

You have a great day/night too!!!

[nyxrev]

Evolution of Forte: Fortification, if you will

First I thought he would be sort of like Glasses, quiet but candid, maybe not too extroverted but nevertheless diligent and gets work done. Just an average but decently competent guy.

Then I had the impression he would usually be chill, maybe a bit overly serious sometimes, but still straightforward and decently capable.

So I felt like he would look stoic with an average guy's dark haircut, sharp eyes, and probably bit of a permanent serious face.

Boy yo!!! What!!!? I fully did not expect him to be two block blonde and baby-faced and look like a character straight out of webtoon(!?)

Blunt he is regardless but the vibes? completely subvert my impression and expectation he's like a totally different person without hat or shades.

How much do you bet he wears his beanie and shades to look Big & Scary? cuz if I am met with a baby-faced two-block blonde headphone youth who is 200% squared up and declared ready to rumble with full lung capacity I cannot take it seriously. It's like you get stared down by somebody who emits less scary vibes than you.

My my, it's so funny pffhahaha… I don't mean it badly though, it has its charm, and Forte, DX, & Kusari-gama trio was also quite unexpected but I will talk about it next post.

It's like Forte went through 3 stages of Cool: From glasses cool to shades cool to blonde cool

“Well I'm not aware of it but it seems I'm cool to young ppl (as if he's not one of them), been told I'm cool n stuff so I'm also fairly popular”

“I've also been on fashion mags but is whatever, it's not like I cared much for it”

He's like: Idc about it at all but (if I'm not wrong) honestly totally secretly probably appreciates the good reception, feedback, and popularity. Also “Idc about my status” but actually totally cares about age and rank.

con fiducia

fortissimo bruscamente

furioso

“How Dare You Not Take Me Seriously” basically (not official just my conclusion)

“How dare you disrespect your resident senior and fail to show curiosity about my hero activity and lack enthusiasm about our obligatory fight to show who's boss aka prove my prowess”

^(jkjk the last part quoted there I exaggerated)

un momento di silenzio imbarazzante

Look at him he is so offended by Saitama ahaha

No but Forte on a crutch as he salutes Saitama with a straight (baby) face is so funny. He's like “Btw I'm very serious rn but you can rely on me, call me if you need. Let's get along n mb hang out if you wanna grab lunch sometime etc etc.”

Forte man look forward to see y'all get along. I want to see how they fight without accident lol.

Look at the motion blur. It shakes the street.

accelerando con brio

presto

What music would he listen to while he fights?

I bet it has strong bass beat, dubstep perhaps, from how wobbly loud it rattles the motion blur.

[dailyanarchistposts]

Chapter 5. Crime

What about gangs and bullies?

Some fear that in a society without authorities, the strongest people would run amok, taking and doing whatever they wanted. Never mind that this describes what generally goes on in societies with government! This fear derives from the statist myth that we are all isolated. The government would very much like you to believe that without its protection you are vulnerable to the whims of anyone stronger than you. However, no bully is stronger than an entire community. A person who shatters the social peace, disrespects another person’s needs, and acts in an authoritarian, bullying way can be defeated or kicked out by neighbors working together to restore the peace.

In Christiania, the anti-authoritarian, autonomous quarter in Denmark’s capital, they have been dealing with their own problems, and the problems associated with all the visitors they receive and the resulting high social mobility. Many people come as tourists, and many more come to buy hash — there are no laws in Christiania and soft drugs are easy to come by, though hard drugs have been successfully banned. Within Christiania there are numerous workshops that produce a variety of goods, most famously their high-quality bicycles; there are also restaurants, cafés, a kindergarten, a clinic, a health food shop, a book shop, an anarchist space, and a concert venue. Christiania has never been successfully dominated by gangs or resident bullies. In 1984 a motorcycle gang moved in, hoping to exploit the lawlessness of the autonomous zone and monopolize the hash trade. After several conflicts, the residents of Christiania succeeded in kicking out the bikers, using mostly peaceful tactics.

The worst bullying has come from the police, who recently resumed entering Christiania to arrest people for marijuana and hash, generally as a pretext to escalate tensions. Local real estate developers would love to see the free state destroyed because it sits on land that has become very valuable. Decades ago, the residents of Christiania had a heated debate about how to deal with the problem of hard drugs coming in from outside. Over much opposition, they decided to ask the police for help, only to find that the police concentrated on locking people up for soft drugs and protected the spread of hard drugs like heroin, presumably in the hope that an addiction epidemic would destroy the autonomous social experiment[77]. It is by no means the first time police or other agents of the state have spread addictive drugs while suppressing soft or hallucinogenic drugs; in fact this seems universally to be a part of police strategies for repression. In the end, the residents of Christiania kicked out the police and dealt with the hard drug problem themselves, by keeping out dealers and using social pressure to discourage hard drug use.

In Christiania as elsewhere, the state presents the greatest danger to the community. Unlike the individual bullies one imagines terrorizing a lawless society, the state cannot be easily defeated. Typically, the state seeks a monopoly on force on the pretext of protecting citizens from other bullies; this is the justification for prohibiting anyone outside the state apparatus from using force, especially in self-defense against the government. In return for relinquishing this power, citizens are directed to the court system as a means of defending their interests; but of course, the court system is part of the state, and protects its interests above all others. When the government comes to seize your land to build a shopping mall, for example, you can take the matter to court or even bring it before the city council, but you might find yourself talking to someone who stands to profit from the shopping mall. The bully’s courts will not be fair to the bully’s victims, and they will not sympathize with you if you defend yourself against the eviction. Instead, they will lock you up.

In this context, those who want resolution often have to seek it outside the courts. A military dictatorship seized power in Argentina in 1976 and waged a “Dirty War” against leftists, torturing and killing 30,000 people; the officers responsible for the torture and executions were pardoned by the democratic government that succeeded the dictatorship. The Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, who began gathering to demand an end to the disappearances and to know what happened to their children, were an important social force in ending the reign of terror. As the government has never taken serious steps to hold the murderers and torturers accountable, people have elaborated a popular justice that builds on and goes beyond the protests and memorials organized by the Mothers.

When a participant in the Dirty War is located, activists put up posters throughout the neighborhood informing everyone of his presence; they may ask local shops to refuse the person entry, and follow and harass him. In a tactic known as “escrache,” hundreds or even thousands of participants will march to the house of a Dirty War participant with signs, banners, puppets, and drums. They sing, chant, and make music for hours, shaming the torturer and letting everyone know what he has done; the crowd may attack his house with paint bombs.[78] Despite a justice system that protects the powerful, the social movements of Argentina have organized collectively to shame and isolate the very worst bullies.

[princelink]

Pls share more of your thoughts on ghosts

oh hello anon!

sure I can ! I hope you're ready for me to just ramble my ass off. I also cannot guarantee a coherent thought process.

The reason I believe in them first off is because I've dealt with... a few things in the realm of the supernatural. I had a few experiences more so when I was growing up than anything recent. I feel like sometimes you're just more susceptible to sensing them in general when you're younger and I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe it has something to do with the way our brains are still developing.

Either way.. my thoughts are they can vary significantly in what they are as a whole. And I don't have a clue as to what could be an actual reason as to why they stick around. I'm sure there's those typical ideas we have of them where something tragic happened and they can't move on. where they're tied to the place they died. But also how long do they stay? Forever? Is there a limit to how long they can exist in that space? Do they get weaker as time moves on? Will they eventually dissipate? Where do they go? We always tend to tie stuff to something traumatic for the reason they stay but is that really the only cause? Maybe a grudge? What else could make something linger? I felt my dog in the same spot where she died in our house for many months afterwards. Like the impression of her soul was still there long after she ceased to exist. I always stepped over the spot until I could no longer feel her there anymore. What kept that part of her there? Love?

Sometimes I feel like it's not anything like that at all for why they're there. Almost like maybe it's just a glimpse of a memory. A time loop from a part of history that got stuck alongside us. There's all those old hotels where folks will catch glimpses of people just walking the halls. Is it just an old memory of what once was? An imprint that for some reason loops over and over again? What causes it? Was there perhaps some kind of like weird rift in the universe that caused something to leave an impression for years to come of someone at the time just walking down the hall? Captured it like a video and hit repeat? I think it'd be neat if there was. Because really who's to say that ghosts are really ghosts at all? What if it's just another dimension crossing briefly with ours? A place where the veil just happens to be thin? You ever just been in a place where you know something feels off but can't place it? I think anywhere can be like that even just for a moment. I've felt it before even if nothing happened.

There's also the ones that can full on interact. And I think there's a few types to this variance and even though some of them can be..... challenging to be around.. I believe that they deserve our respect. (I mean all of them do in my opinion but these entities are.. complicated? Because I feel like they actually want something even if we don't know what it is. Some I think just want to still exist, some I think want to have some fun, others.... well?????)

I liked watching ghost hunters because I always found it fascinating! And there's a reason I bring this up. And it's because deep down it felt like in a way it just wasn't something we were meant to hunt for. I believe in not disturbing them the best we can. And while I always thought it was cool that there were people out there who also wanted to know, I was always kind of frustrated with their methods. (Especially some of the newer shows for this because I feel like those ghost adventures guys are just kinda assholes) And the reason I get upset is because of respect! Would you like anyone bothering you like that? Lmao like any time I watch a horror movie (and I know it's just a movie!) where they purposely mess with whatever could be residing there I wanna yell. To me it seems like a blatant act of disrespect and there's a reason they'll lash out in return. And I feel like that concept just applys to the spaces we share with them in general out of the context of a horror movie.

And I don't think any are necessarily like.. evil or anything (maybe some can be???) but I do feel like there's a fine line they can walk. And I say that because I definitely feel like you can get different... vibes from something. Like you can know something is there and it's not really gonna hurt you or is enjoying messing with you. Playful. Or you know something is for sure there because it WANTS you to feel it and you get this.... almost sinister energy or something similar radiating off of it. And that's when stuff can definitely get scary. those are the ones I believe movies are based off of. Like if I really wanted to I could completely go hog wild and base a whole horror movie off whatever the fuck was in my closet as a child. It gave those vibes and it absolutely wanted me to know it was there in an unsettling way. I don't know what it wanted and I don't really like to talk about what happened. And I'm sure someone could try to logically explain what occurred but it was definitely A THING in there and it was scary as hell. And I remember it following me briefly to another place when we moved some years later. My point is even the ones that are unsettling as all hell deserve some form of respect because really do you want to piss that thing off more?

Besides all of that I think it's hard to tell just what the ones that interact are exactly. Were they people once? Something else? It's almost like you can feel the human element sometimes and then other times it's too muddled. why are they there? why does it seem like they can make more choices than the ones that just kind of blip into existence? Why do they become something more than the ones that loop? What's there that causes more of a consciousness? I don't know if we're meant to understand and I don't really think we ever will.

Anyway I got stuff to do and this was a nice procrastination for a while jfdkdj I hope my weird tedtalk on the ideas in my head is to your enjoyment nonners lmao thanks for asking tho!! it's been a while since I got to just yammer on here 🥰

[portmantaur]

actually tho I wonder if there’s anything to the idea of remembering specific cases of feeling wronged as a minor, particularly within the context of schooling/education, is rooted at least partially in said instance being a formative lesson on your place in capitalism/other relevant power structures.

like, I was probably very much being a little teenage shit when I was like “miss I actually cannot find any reference in this classroom dictionary to the act of fighting under the definition of ‘fardels’ even though that is what you just said it means, but here it just says it’s a bundle carried by donkeys usually” and now as an adult, I even recognize that that was probably a deeply embarrassing moment for her not least of all bc I was pretty good at being the Resident Little Shit in her classroom and it is the bitterest pill to have to be like “oh I guess you’re right” to someone you actively dislike

but her response was “I’ve never heard that definition” which was a mind-blowing level of copout to my teen mind, not least of all bc like. then where even did you get the definition you just gave us. & why does you not knowing/hearing about it make it necessarily incorrect. but also.

I was devastated bc, however misguided I was in my behavior, I was genuinely excited to be an active participant in the evolution of this moment of education. I know so very little about most things, but this was a pretty niche thing I knew about bc of my v odd upbringing and hey, now it’s actually useful instead of Just Weird And Maybe Kinda Sad!

But she was entirely disinterested, and even openly offended. She never heard of it, which despite being a kind-of lie to cover up whatever else she was feeling in that moment, was also part of her way of letting me know that the bigger issue at hand was not even that she might be teaching something non-factual to a group of kids whose families were gonna have to drop a little bundle of money at the end of the year so the students could take a test that might give them access to a small amount of college credit, but that I had in a way violated the prescribed dynamic of Superior/inferior that is innate in the USA school system and ultimately reflective of the Employer/employee mindset that you are intentionally being trained into. it wasn’t just that my possible method of correcting her was disrespectful, it was that my assumption that her knowledge was not always and infallibly superior to my own, regardless of our individual histories and experiences, was somehow disrespectful in and of itself. The problem was that I was Child and she was Adult, and even though we are in a space that is technically defined by words like education and learning, my place was never to question or offer (possibly) better information, it was only to obey and accept.

like the last time I vividly remembered this otherwise possibly insignificant moment of my ancient high school days was while I was working in my 20s and we had a big binder in the back called The Communication Book, where normally the office admin or Drs would leave notices/important info and it was staff’s job to make sure we checked the binder for new info before clocking in and then initial whatever new pages were present to show that we had read it. One day, there was an announcement in the binder that changed a room-prep policy for one vet specifically, and it was in direct contradiction to information we had been given before, which confused me and I wanted to make sure I understood - but everyone was busy bc it was a mid-day shift so I just underlined that part of the announcement and wrote in the margins something to the effect of “so not [previous policy], correct?” and figured someone would answer when they could and I would check back before I clocked out since the vet in question wasn’t even working that day.

Within like, half an hour, in the middle of me prepping files up front for our next batch of patients, it was like the whole back of the clinic exploded and one tech even rushed up to the front to confront me and demanded “did YOU write in the communication book?” and I know I had to have looked like a deer in headlights because his tone would have been equally applicable if he had asked me “did YOU commit the ritual sacrifice we just found in the break room?” He even told me later on our way to the train station after work that he felt bad because he could tell by the look on my face I hadn’t “meant anything by it.”

I was thoroughly reprimanded by the office admin, and was told while I was being written up that the owners of the clinic had been informed and wanted to let me go as a result but the office admin apparently “fought for” me to maintain my position. And I tried to accept everything without complaint or objection bc I was deathly afraid to rock the boat even more and lose my job, especially over something that felt so oddly small and specific. But I was kept up at nights for weeks after this, stunned by how similar the two instances felt. What on earth could I have possibly “meant by” what I did beyond what I communicated directly — what possible nefarious intention could I have had beyond the confirmation I was asking for? Why was I being so thoroughly lectured and even punished for an attempt to make sure I was doing my job?

i realized, a little while after eventually "leaving" that job, that this was probably a case of me missing the apparently obvious fact that "communication book" was a piece of corporate-speak, and not, as i assumed, a word that represented the desire for two-way understanding. i had once again violated my role in a system by not recognizing the fact that, no matter what language was being used to dress it up, my place was only to accept and obey. asking questions, even for the purposes of making sure i was abiding by the rules of my employment, was not permitted, particularly in this format. Essentially, I was punished not for my intention or my desire to participate ‘correctly,’ but because I had failed to understand that my place in a system was not defined by the words used to describe it, but by an unspoken concept of expected deference, and I was -particularly- punished for creating a situation that required people to have to address that concept without somehow framing it so exactly.

which is ultimately doubly bizarre to me bc I heard “because I’m the adult” or “because I’m your parent” as a justification for otherwise unjustifiable behavior SO often as a kid that I feel like in both these instances “because I’m your teacher/boss and I say so” would have been a roughly acceptable explanation in my mind. Like, yeah, I still would have been frustrated, but I probably would have just filed it away in my brain as “one of those weird social cue things I will simply never fundamentally understand so I just have to treat it like a Weird Rule I must memorize”

Although I DO think it’s funny that there was a notice in the binder shortly after this that was a “reminder to all staff” that it is not permissible to write anything but your initials in the communication book, which felt like such a weird way to cope with the realization that you probably just should have labeled the binder something to do with Announcements and moved on.

[sassenashsworld]

Don't insult my Valentine

First time (Tome 1) Nick talked like that to Silver Not the last one though…

Then, passing in front of a resident, she hears him push me a not very nice remark. By force of habit, I open my mouth to taking him down a peg, but its stuck in my throat of surprise as I see the lady suddenly reach out her arm to smash the individual's nose roughly with her palm.

A real snake, this girl!

I try to keep myself from laughing when the boor grabs his sore appendage and squeals like a chick.

"What was that?" I ask her as I catch her up. Because (oh! Yeah) she continued her way without a look as if nothing had happened.

"He insulted you" she answers me placidly.

Yeah, it's neither the first nor the last. I hope she is aware of it and will not have fun kicking the ass of all those who will disrespect me in the future (note from future me: she doesn't give a fuck, we’ll have to talk about this one day).

Whatever … no! I cannot encourage this behavior. So, I sink my hilarity deep inside me and I sternly look at her, crossing my arms.

“No, Silver, naughty! We don't hit people for words!”

Her dog cocks his head, puzzled, but she walks by, shrugging. I follow her with a sigh as we enter Piper's house.

[movedtodykedvonte]

In one of your previous ask, I believe there was a mention of how Ethan feels the mental and emotional toll that it takes on him while he's in the position as Father Fungus. How would the Lords (including Lady D's daughters) react when Ethan just snaps after the stress has accumulated to the point where it becomes unbearable and he reaches his breaking point?

I doubt Ethan would break down in front of them. It is bad for everyone if they tried to blame it on one thing or even each other and he'd be aware of that. Ethan would excuse himself and then go off to cool down. However, there still is the chance he'd get caught...

"Why'd you call us all here, Alcina?"

"Yeah, what's the deal bringing us back here, super-sized?" Karl pushed past Donna on his way into the church, barely missing hitting Moreau when he dropped rested his hammer on the ground. Alcina scowled at his careless display but could understand the hostility.

The church had been a place marked as Mother Miranda's. If you entered there you were giving yourself up to her as a child, as a follower, as a living being. None of them, to her knowledge, had entered since she had been vanquished and, to her knowledge, they certainly did not want to ever again. Too many lies had been told here to them, too many bad memories made... Yet, she had brought them back. Composing herself she flattened her dress as she stood from her old chair, clearing her throat.

"I called you here," She narrowed her eyes at Karl, " because some troubling information has been brought to my attention by my girls."

"Well? Spit it out tall ass." Karl, eager to leave, demanded she cut to the chase.

"Don't be mean, Heisenberg..."

"Can it freak."

"Silence!" Alcina spoke sharply, patience wearing thin as Karl extended all of their times in the church. "If you had let me finish, I was going to inform you all that..." She stopped for a moment, as if unsure what she had brought them all together for was even correct. "That... one of my girls found Father Winters weeping outside my abode." The other lords stood quietly unsure of how to react.

Father Winters was weeping? Why? What for? He had gotten his child back, they were all safe and relatively happy. What could possibly trigger an action such as woeful and intense as weeping to occur in their dearest Father?

"Who did it?" Karl's impatient attitude faded, a one of a calm fury taking place. He picked his hammer back up, holding it as if ready to swing. "Winters-"

"Father Winters." Moreau corrected, shrinking back when Karl gave him a quick annoyed look.

"Father Winters," He stressed the word, rolling his eyes at how it appeased Moreau. "Has been through hell and back without shedding a tear. Whoever caused this, isn't going to cause it ever again."

"Yeah! Let's tear them to shreds!" Angie toddled on the ground, giggling and acting out ripping motions as Donna tied to reel her in.

Alcina shook her head, the sudden liveliness not what she wanted from a meeting such as this. "It isn't that simple, Heisenberg." She let out a huff, wishing she had a cigarette with her. "Less you plan on killing all of us... and yourself." The last part was said pointedly, a hopeful pitch to it.

"We've upset Father Winters?" Moreau sounded devastated, shaking his head as if he could shake the sentence from his memory. "What have we done? What can we do?"

"This is a mistake." Donna sat down as is faint, Angie coming to her side to comfort her.

"Your girls got this wrong, tall-ass." He took a step towards Alcina with the hammer, threatening to a person not as equally capable. "We ain't do shit to him."

"We ask a lot of him, don't we?" Alcina put her hands on her hips, glowering down at Karl. "My girls said most of what he said was incoherent, the wind and the doors made it difficult to hear."

"That's helpful..." Angie spoke calmly and irritably, the rest of the room momentarily stunned at the unusual display.

"It isn't... but what they did hear is his doubts."

"About?" Moreau shuffled closer, both to hear and see Alcina's expressions better.

Her looked turned dejected, almost as if she was a child told they were a disappointment by parents, which is effectively how she took it. "Us. If we are truly progressing, if we are ever going to be free of the confines of this village..." She looked as if she was leaving something out, but that is all she was willing to speak of.

"So, you're saying he's worried he's failing us?" Karl rested his hammer again, leaning on it, relaxed, as if listening to a boring story, "Please, I know you whack jobs call him father and stuff, but we aren't his kids!" Karl sounded jovial as if the problem at hand was a punchline he just got. The rest of the group's faces stayed grim. "We're fine."

"Father doesn't know that." Moreau's voice sounded serious, stern, and for once threatening towards his fellow lord. Karl went to protest before the silent nod of Donna and the agreeing hum of Alcina quieted him. He was outnumbered

"Exactly the issue I wanted to discuss." The tallest lord sat back down, attempting to look regal despite the vague focus in her eyes. Karl took note but opted to stay quiet. "We ask too much of him, too often."

"Nuh-uh, Father Ethan offers to play with me and Donna!" Angie seemed indignant, her games were not a forced activity, they were fun.

"Or does he feel the need to?" Angie looked up at Donna, this had been the most she spoke in a while. Her words resonated with the rest of the lords.

Did Ethan offer his time, his patience, his kindness, out of the good of his heart or did they force him? They had never called him to their residences, it had always been a choice on his part. Yet, they rarely gave him a choice when they would show up to his unannounced. He was always willing to participate in an activity of their liking, but when had they done the same? They did not ask for much, no, they took too often. Did he, for whatever reason, feel he had to let them? The ideas swarmed in the lords' heads.

"What should we do then, Lady." Alcina did not know if she preferred the vulgarity of Karl over when he disrespected her title. She would need a drink after this.

"We are overbearing him correct?" Silent nods filled the room. "He cannot handle giving so much of himself to us without reaching points like this. So we take less."

"And by that you mean?"

"Let him know we are fine and capable without his supervision. Shoo him off if you have to, but let him know we are doing well." Alcina leaned back in her chair, looking to where Mother Miranda would have been standing in moments like this. "Give him a break."

"That is doable!" Angie bounced on Donna's lap as if the idea was a challenge issued to her. "We'll be the best at not needing to be checked on! Like, hide n seek but with responsibility!"

Moreau nodded eagerly, being alone a little more often was no issue to him, especially since he had just gotten a few more movies to occupy his time with. Karl kept his gaze on Alcina, the latter still trained on the spot Miranda would stand.

"That settles it." Alcina began fixing her dress again, a content look unfolding upon her features as did the rest of the lords.

They would make sure they were not a burden to their father anymore...

[tothemeadow]

Commissioned by @tanjhero​

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

- Being the Flame Pillar’s tsugoku is no easy task; saving his brother, however, proves to be something else entirely. - 

warnings: mentions of blood, angst

words: 2.5k

-

Burning hearts, brilliant eyes, wishes that never come true. There’s almost something beautiful in sorrow, the slight glimpse of light in the vast darkness. To be a demon slayer, one must bury their heart. They have to hide it under lock and key, learn how to forget what crying feels like. You’ve always carried this ideology close to your heart ever since you started your training as a young adolescent.

Six years have then since passed, and the Final Selection is well behind you. Ragged scars cover your arms, chest, and back, all trophies from your brutal battles with blood-hungry beasts. Demons, to be precise; you see ragged, glinting teeth in the night, in the hours of the day when you’re finally allowed to dream. Whatever the reason, whatever the cause, these teeth seek to ravage you, to sink into your skin and rip your throat out.

The world is dark. You’ve long since grown cold, refusing to properly feel anything. To be emotional is to be distracted; if you wanted to survive, for others to survive, you cannot afford to deal with such interruptions. This is the very reason why your mentor – the gracious Flame Pillar himself, Rengoku Kyojuro – always struck you as odd. Like the sun itself, he’s full of light and eternal brightness.

You’ve never been more jealous of someone in your life.

You train by his side, let him whip you into proper shape. Being a tsugoku is no easy task; both mentally and physically draining, you’re often left scrambling for any sensation left in your numb fingertips. Although your body suffers from the constant thrum of pain, you are strong. You don’t take your strength lightly, and neither does your mentor.

As time and his persistent nature eat away at your skeptical brain cells, he’s more or less become a friend. Much to your initial displeasure, you allowed him to root himself to you. However, as you grew stronger, wiser, your heart did so as well. Kyojuro, this dear man, has cracked open the safe of your heart. With each rising sun, you envision him, his dazzling smile, his abnormal irises. It’s the first time in your life you’ve been blessed.

The days grow into something long and dark whenever you train with him. He doesn’t give up, refuses to let you to wipe away the sweat at your brow, keeps going and going until you’re a trembling mess at his feet. He’s to make a slayer of you yet.

Some days, you consider yourself lucky. Kyojuro is a soft man despite the hard cording of muscle covering his skeleton. Sometimes, his gaze melts into something akin to honey, dangerously sweet and tempting. He’ll call training off early, opting to massage your weakened muscles and guide you through breathing exercises. You don’t take these treatments lightly; after all, Kyojuro is a Pillar, a highly respected one at that. To have a pathetically weak tsugoku will only bring shame onto his namesake.

And, if he’s really in a giving mood, he’ll insist you spend the night at his residence.

Already well fed and bathed, you dismiss Kyojuro with a tight-lipped smile and a prayer for his safe return. He explained that he and his father were to travel into town and seek out the beloved liquor his father adores so much. Although his face is stoic, you can see the pain and disappointment in the depths of his eyes. Like himself, Rengoku Shinjuro is a man deserving respect – or at least used to be. Since the passing of his wife, he’s been drowning his sorrows (amongst all other emotion humanly possible) until he sees the bottom of the bottle.

You find solace in your room, wet hair unceremoniously thrown over your shoulder. Like your father and grandfather, you wear your hair long; the one true tradition that’s been passed down your bloodline for generations. Even as shorter hairstyles become widely accepted, your clan refused to do so, following the old rule of cutting hair once one was shunned. You lose yourself in thought, mindlessly combing through hair with a comb made out of bone.

It isn’t the first time you’ve stayed in the Rengoku household, but you always find yourself drawing hesitant. Kyojuro’s own room sits right down the hallway, a silent temptation that you never give into. To do so would be disrespectful to your kind mentor, even downright inappropriate. Mentor and tsugoku was a strictly former relation – nothing more. You’d be damned if you stepped out of line.

A slight knock at the door stirs your curiosity. Kyojuro and Shinjuro have yet to return from their shopping trip despite the sky being cloaked in an ominous purple. Instead, you’re greeted by Senjuro, Kyojuro’s younger brother. Like the other two – and the rest of the males in his bloodline – he sports the fire crackle hair, the robust eyes. The entire Rengoku clan has been blessed by the sun, by fire, since the beginning of time. You’re not good friends with Senjuro, by you’re way past the line of casual acquaintances.

You glance to the cheesecloth in his hands, your eyebrow raising itself in a silent question. Senjuro sends you a cheeky smile, though the edges are tinged with nervousness. It startles you just how much he resembles Kyojuro. As you beckon him to enter, you set your comb down and tell him to join you on the futon.

“Aniki and father aren’t back yet,” Senjuro tells you as he sits down. “And I figured… Well, maybe… If it was okay for us to hang out?”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. Senjuro’s always been like this, awkward yet exceptionally kind. As he unwraps the cheesecloth, you’re greeted by the sight of plump grapes and rice crackers.

“I know we already had dinner, but sometimes Aniki and I sit around with some snacks and talk about everything.” Senjuro’s smile grows at the mention of his brother; you find it extremely endearing. “And you’re always nice to me, so I thought that we could…” His sentence trails off into nothing and he worries his bottom lip.

You promptly pick a grape from the bunch and pop it into your mouth. Its sweet flavor erupts on your tongue and you hum in appreciation. “Thank you for the treat.”

The nervousness in Senjuro’s smile melts away. “I watched you and Aniki train earlier. You’re incredible,” he gushes. “It’s no wonder why you’re Aniki’s tsugoku!”

You wave off his compliment with a dismissive hand. “First you bring me food, then you flatter me; is there an ulterior motive to this?” you tease.

With a slight giggle, Senjuro shoves at your shoulder. “I just wanted to be in your company, that’s all.”

You find the gesture to be incredibly sweet. As you ponder on his words, you realize that Kyojuro must be busy all the time, attending to his work as a Pillar, and Shinjoru spends almost every waking moment getting drunk. “Look at you, being the charmer,” you throw his way. “You definitely take after your brother.”

Senjuro visibly perks up at your words. “Really? You think so?”

You chuckle at his excited response. “Yes, really. I think you’re going to grow up into a wonderful man, Senjuro-kun.”

His cheeks warm up at your praise. “I can see why Aniki likes you so much.”

The cracker you hold stops centimeters away from your mouth. You instinctively lower your hand. “What do you mean?”

Senjuro cocks his head to the side. “Oh, you mean you don’t know? Aniki’s had a crush on you for months.”

The cracker falls into your lap. “He what?”

Something snaps outside the screen door. The hairs on the back of your neck come to a sudden rise; the sharp smell of blood fills the air and your mind kicks into autopilot. Shoving Senjuro away, you quickly grab onto your blade as the door is ripped from its hinges, the sight of bright yellow eyes shining through the dark.

A demon.

“Shit,” you curse, shooting to a stand, drawing your blade from its sheath, and holding it out before you in a defensive stance.

The demon stalks into the room; its body is nothing short of massive, all flexing muscle the color of moss. His head easily brushes the ceiling as he draws himself to his full height, inky, greasy hair falling in his grotesque face. His nostrils twitch as though they’re following a scent. “Where is he?” he growls, his voice rumbling from deep within his chest. “Where is the Flame Pillar?”

Your grip on your blade tightens. While it’s fortunate that Kyojuro isn’t home, that means you’ll have to take out the demon and protect Senjuro at the same time. Maybe, just maybe, you can convince the creature to turn around and leave.

“My apologies,” you say, your voice brisk. “The one you seek isn’t here.”

The demon’s yellow eyes stare down at the blade in your hands. His lips pull back in a snarl, his razor-sharp fangs shining in the light. You sharply inhale at the sight, a slight spark of panic traveling down your spine. “Pathetic little slayer,” he hisses, “thinking you can stop me? I’ll rip your head off and drink straight from your neck.”

You shift your weight on your feet. “Senjuro, get out of here. Now.”

Behind you, Senjuro scrambles to his feet. You can hear him gulp, but you ignore the urge to turn around and see if he’s okay. “B-but what about…”

“Get your brother. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

With another drawn out growl, the demon lowers itself, ready to pounce.

“Run!”

A large flash of green fills your vision and you hastily swing your sword. The battle you engage in is fierce, intense, too quick to be seen by the naked eye. Your body twirls and evades the monstrous demon’s attacks, bouncing off the walls and slithering between his legs.

You don’t necessarily realize it as you move the fight outside, the night’s breeze carrying your hair and whipping it into your face. Biting back a curse, you jump backwards just in time for a clawed hand to slash at the space where you previously stood.

“I will kill you!” the demon roars.

“Breath of Ashes: Shimmering Coal!” you cry out. In a great, fantastic arc, your blade grows to an unbearably hot temperature as you slice through the demon’s chest.

He screams in agony at the searing pain, reeling back and clutching at his chest. His eyes scream murder as he charges you; this time, though, you aren’t so lucky. Your back makes a sickening snap noise as you’re thrown into a nearby tree. Struggling for breath, you quickly get back up, charging at the demon again.

Time is lost. A faint hint at a new moon fills the sky; the only light comes from the inside of your room, leaving you in almost complete darkness. Your movements are bold, swift, straight to the point; you slash and strike at the demon, landing devastating blows, but his neck is too thick. You curse and howl in pain as claws rip at your sides, your arms, your face; blood openly flows down your face and the rest of your body, soaking the material of your torn yukata.

You groan from your spot on the ground; the coppery taste of blood coats your tongue, the back of your throat. Struggling to sit up, your fingers claw into the grass and dirt as you fight off the wave of nausea. It can’t end like this – you can’t end like this. You refuse to give up, to die. Even if this demon spills your guts, you’ll slice off his head and take him to hell with you.

Black fills the outer rims of your vision. There’s a harsh ringing in your ears, ready to steal your hearing away from you. Death is creeping up onto your doorstep, waiting, just waiting for you to answer.

There’s a cry of your name and a swirl of flames. Kyojuro comes seemingly out of nowhere; a war cry spills from his lips as he swings his blade and brings it down on the demon’s neck. Although he’s incredibly fast, your trained eyes follow his every move. The muscles in his back flex as he slices the demon’s head clean off. The demon releases an animalistic sound, spittle flying from his mouth as his head lands nearby.

“Fuck you, Flame Pillar! I’ll see you in hell!” he screeches before his head turns into dust.

A ragged breath punches its way out of your lungs as you slump back onto the ground. Kyojuro rushes to your side, worry etched into his features. You see his mouth move, but you can barely hear the words tumbling out. He gingerly slides his arms under you and picks you up, holding you close to his chest. The rest of the world passes by in a blur as he carries you back inside, instead of stopping in your room, however, he continues all the way to his room.

“Can you hear me?” his voice filters into your mind. You nod your head and groan as he places you onto his bed. “Gods, (y/n),” he breathes, pushing the damp strands out of your face. He gulps at the sheer amount of blood coating your face. “Hang on,” he tells you.

Rising from the bed, he fetches an abundance of medical supplies and gets to work at cleaning you up. Both his eyes and movements are gentle as he wipes away the blood, revealing your exhausted face. As he removes your yukata, he averts his gaze and hastily covers your privates up before working at your exposed arms and stomach.

“To do what you did,” he starts, his voice hoarse. He sounds suspiciously close to crying. “You saved him. You saved Senjuro.” His voice shakes as his hands begin to tremble. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Flicking your eyes to him, you notice how he’s biting hard onto his lip, desperate to keep the tears at bay. You’ve never seen such a pained look on his face a day in your life. His eyes shift between the two of yours, tears welling up and clouding the surface. Your heart jumps to your throat.

“You saved my baby brother,” he spews. Tears rush down his handsome face. “You risked your life to save him. It’s just… I…” He frantically rubs at his eyes with a sleeve. “I didn’t want to lose you, too.” Despite his tears, Kyojuro manages a tiny smile. “I can’t imagine what I’d do if you died,” he confesses.

“Kyojuro-san…?” you croak.

Taking your hands in his, he swiftly brings them to his lips and presses kisses to your knuckles. “I was so scared.” He frantically shakes his head. “I couldn’t live with myself if you died.” His voice cracks at the end of his sentence. “You see… I- I love you, (y/n).”

Your breath stills in your throat. He… He loves you? Rengoku Kyojuro, a man blessed by the gods themselves, loves you.

Leaning down, he gently presses his forehead to yours. “I love you with my very being,” he mutters. “And to know that you’ve saved Senjuro… It makes me love you even more.”

Before you have time to register it, your hands link around his neck. This man was the one to melt the ice surrounding your heart; he was the one to make you feel again. You smile weakly at him. “Kyojuro-san… I… I love you, too.”

[coexiising]

Fade Into You - Chapter Four

SUMMARY ✦ Your first day at Vader’s castle.

WARNING ✦ N/A

MASTERLIST ✦ Here.

The first thing you noticed when your senses were given back to you was the warm heat emitting from whatever you were laying on. When you opened your eyes you saw that there was a small blanket draped below you, and you laid on some kind of tiny mattress. Upon further inspection, you saw that you were in some type of room - or much rather a cell, since it was clear that there was no way to get out of here. You felt overwhelmed, mentally cursing yourself to think that this could possibly work. You had walked right into the hands of a Sith, a very powerful Sith whose intentions you didn’t know at all.

Sitting up, a pounding pressure was felt in your head, it was dull and made you disoriented for a moment. Your thoughts took you back to the last moment you could remember, Vader grabbing you by the throat and pushing you up against the wall. Your head must’ve hit the rock hard and you were just now feeling the aftermath that the encounter had on your body. You could still feel the phantom touch of his hand around your throat, instinctively reaching up and touching the pads of your fingers against the nape of your neck. It was a little sore.

The room wasn’t very big, and it looked as though you were the first person to ever set foot in it before. Honestly it looked like it had been put together in a rush, possibly Vader trying to find a place for you. It wouldn’t be the first time that you had been held hostage by someone, but it was the first time that they had held you in anything other than a cell or in shackles. You knew there was no way that he would leave the door open, so there was no point in even trying.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, scanning the area to get a good sense of your surroundings and waiting for him to come. When you did hear footsteps approaching the door, you put your legs up against your chest, watching the knob turn and there was Vader, standing with a plate in his hands. Your stomach rumbled, reminding you that you had yet to eat anything today except for a cup of tea in the Council Room. Was it even ‘today’ still? You still didn’t know how long you had been passed out for.

He kicked the door closed behind him and set the plate down on the side table. “Sorry, it’s the first time I’ve had a guest over.” There was a tone of amusement behind his voice, like he found this whole situation funny.

“I’m so honored,” You retorted, noting the slight strain in your voice that was no doubt from the choking earlier. “But I think I’ve overstayed my welcome, care to let me go?” You gestured to the door, even though there was a one in a million chance that he would actually consider such a thing. You knew that you were stuck, but maybe you could somehow speak to the part of him that you saw in your dreams.

“What happened to finding out our connection?” Vader asked. “And to think you were starting to grow on me.”

“You lied to me,” You told him, eyes squinting. The smirk left his face and was replaced with him biting his inner cheek, eyes darting to the floor and averting your gaze that stayed centered on him. You could feel it in him, that inner torment that often plagued users of the dark side. He wasn’t like this in your dreams, what had changed?

The solemn look on his face left as quickly as it came. “You shouldn’t have trusted me. Isn’t that what your Council always preaches? That the Sith cannot be trusted?”

“I thought that you were different.”

Vader looked back up at you now, eyes looking directly back up into yours. Everything about him was dark except for those eyes, which for a moment you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of blue flash across them. He couldn’t be much older than you, but he was different in many ways, you two were opposites of a sort. And yet, all you could feel was the constant push of the Force towards him, like you had felt ever since you started seeing him. He was using dark energy, but something told you that he was conflicted. Maybe, just maybe there was a chance that you could bring him back to the light side.

He sucked in a breath, ignoring your statement. “You should eat something, you were out for at least a day.” Vader motioned to the plate on the table. Now that it was eye level with you, you could see that there was a piece of some type of bread and a bowl filled with something that resembled the soup you used to be given at the temple. “And then I can give you the tour.”

“Tour?” You asked.

“You are my guest.”

~

From what you gathered through Vader talking as you followed him through the different rooms of the castle, you could sense that he was a little lonely. He never gave away too much about himself or his past, but there was no one else in residence here, though he did mention that his Master came sometimes to check in on him. It was as though he was a different person than who he was when he cornered you at your first meeting. You wondered why. Maybe it was because he had been threatened.

Vader mentioned that there was no way off of Mustafar. He had taken your ship to Maker knows where and there were no other ships for you to possibly hop on. So your hopes of escaping were somewhat crushed, though there was the possibility of you contacting one of your Masters if Vader kept you alone for long enough. Would they even come if you found a way to reach them? You had disobeyed their orders. No. You thought to yourself. That was just Vader’s talk getting to you. The Order cared about you and your wellbeing. They probably had search parties looking for you right now. And your friends Obi-Wan, Rex, and Ahsoka were probably worried and fronting those teams. You had nothing to worry about . . . Right?

Your footsteps stopped in their tracks when you turned a corner, being met with a familiar window and corridor. The one from your dreams. It was the same, which gave you a sense of deja vu when you resumed walking.

“This is towards the back of the castle,” Vader explained, his footsteps significantly heavier than yours against the hard floor. “I don’t know why the dreams always end up here, the only thing here is the view.” That view, which you were nearing now, looked strikingly different in real life. The lava pooled in the same way and the obsidian looked just as dark as it always did, though now you could feel the heat arise even through the glass, and you could see that there were in fact some types of animals crawling on the rocks. They looked like little salamanders, skittering across the pebbles of brimstone. And to your left you could see a clearing where some plants were living, bushels of flowers erupting from the ground.

“I thought nothing could live on Mustafar,” You said out loud. “That’s what they always told us on Coruscant.”

“There’s some indigenous plants and animals, but nothing else could be brought here to live, which was why it was never colonized,” Vader spoke.

You squint your eyes, turning on your heel. “But you live here. Isn’t that dangerous?”

“I’ve always been here,” Vader said, shrugging his shoulders. “Ever since I was young. But it’s the same thing as you and the Jedi, they’re always taking young children.”

“But that’s different. The Jedi take and train kids to be peacekeepers,” You replied. It did pain you to think that you would never know who your parents really were, or if you had a big family. But it had always been that way, the Jedi were your family, they were the ones who cared for you. “They’re trying to make a difference in the Galaxy.”

You heard him laugh, which ticked you off more than it should’ve. “They still take kids from their families.”

“Are you really trying to have a morality competition with me, when you’re a Sith?” You retorted, shutting down this conversation before it went any further. You may be stuck here and you may be connected to him, but you weren’t going to listen to him talk about the Jedi in a bad light. Those were your people, on the right side of this whole war. Just because there was no way that you were leaving any time soon didn’t mean that you were going to be converted to the dark side. If anything, all you wanted to do was figure out this whole dilemma and then cut it off and never see this ‘Darth Vader’ again unless he was at the end of your lightsaber.

Both of you were quiet then, until he said, “I do have a name, you don’t get to come to my home and not call me by it. I won’t be disrespected in my own home. I’m a Lord.”

Now it was your turn to laugh, and you did it shamelessly. Was he really speaking to you about you respecting him, when he wasn’t respecting any of your wishes?

“I’m not calling you by your Sith name,” You said.

Vader didn’t respond, instead turning and grabbing you by the arm and walking down the hall. You didn’t fight back, knowing that he was just taking you back to the room you woke up in. Apparently he’d had enough of your backtalk for today. And he didn’t say anything when he pushed you back in and closed the door. You heard the lock click and shook your head, knowing nothing good was coming out of this.

Time went by, which you spent by exploring the room in depth. There really wasn’t much, but you did find a clock that you propped up against the wall, seeing that it was getting late. And you found another blanket in one of the drawers, you covered yourself in it and sat back down on the tiny bed, if you closed your eyes you could pretend that you were back at the Temple. You reached out through the Force, but everything was blocked. Vader probably wasn’t going to allow any kind of Force communication through, and it was useless anyways. Mustafar was so far away from Coruscant, so only a Jedi passing by would be able to sense anything. And it wasn’t like they were out in this region of the Outer Rim often.

You thought that the most boring thing about the room is that there was really nothing to do. There wasn’t a holopad for you to scroll through videos and articles endlessly, and there weren't even any books for you to read. As time ticked on and it neared eleven at night, you were pretty sure that Vader wasn’t coming back.

Though, like he could sense what you were thinking, the door opened, and Vader was there. He was dressed somewhat more comfortably, a loose black shirt hung off of him unlike his normal, fitted robes. You hated to admit that he looked somewhat attractive like this, shoving those thoughts to the side and giving him a blank expression, wondering what he wanted this time.

“Are you hungry again?” Vader asked. For someone who was supposed to be a Sith, he seemed at least a little bit concerned about your wellbeing. It was as though a switch had been flipped and he was back to his more normal self, if it wasn’t for the glowing amber eyes, you would’ve almost thought that he was a normal person.

You shook your head, knowing that you could wait until the morning to eat something.

“Okay, well, then I’m going to sleep. I’m not sure what will happen now that we’re under the same roof, but from now on our main focus should be figuring out whatever is going on,” He said, like he was suggesting but you knew that it was more of a tell. You wondered what happened after you two discovered this anomaly, if he would let you go or a darker, more sinister fate would fall upon you.

You mumbled something along the lines of ‘okay’ and watched him turn around. But then he stopped, prompting you to raise an eyebrow.

Without even looking at you, he said, “It’s Anakin.” His back was turned to you but he quickly glanced at you, then immediately darted his attention back forward, like he was hiding from you. You looked at him for a moment, not knowing what he was talking about. You hadn’t ever heard that name before . . . And then it dawned on you. That was his real name, not his Sith name. Vader was telling you his real name.

“Anakin,” You said out loud, as if you were testing the name out. It felt good on your tongue, the word spilling off of it with ease. It was a strange name, but it somewhat suited him. Now you could put a name to his face, to those golden locks and the chiseled features that silently knocked your breath away. Anakin was a name of someone you could learn to get along with, Anakin was a name you could trust. That’s who he truly was, deep down, even if he didn’t know it himself. He stiffened as he heard the name come off of your lips, like he hadn’t heard someone say it in forever. It made you even more intrigued, what was his story? He said that he has been here since he was young, how young was he? Who was this Anakin?

More importantly, why hadn’t the Jedi come for him? He was obviously strong with the Force, so why had the Jedi let him slip from their fingers?

“Goodnight, Y/N,” He spoke, not giving you a moment to answer and closing the door. You sat there, thinking about Vader as you finally decided to go to sleep. There was more that met the surface of him, that was for sure, though you wondered how much he would let you know.

Sleep overcame you rather quickly, being swept up into your familiar dreamlike state. But the dream with Vader never came, no matter how much you searched your subconscious for it. Perhaps the Force didn’t want it anymore now that you two were together, maybe this meant that you were headed in the right direction. Instead of meeting Vader literally in your dreams, you found your mind thinking of him, visions of you and him walking together, talking together, laughing together. And when you woke up the next morning, instead of recoiling at the thought of Vader, you were looking forward to your next meeting, hoping that he woke up soon and you two could get started on your day.

Whatever that would entail.

[sixteenthshen]

Episode 1 Notes/Meta

Contains minor spoilers up to Youtube's schedule and references to the novel

Since I don’t have any new episodes to watch until Friday, I decided to watch the drama all over again, very closely, to see if there’s anything new to discover.

Zhou Zishu's character: 

Drama immediately sets the backdrop/tells us why his character is kinder, more compassionate than in the novel. We don't know that drama!ZZS is kinder yet at this time, but we can see that he's schemey and sneaky

He wears a mask of indifference as the Window of Heaven's leader (sorry ZZH, I was wrong. I thought your acting was stiff during one scene, but now I know better). It's one of the many subtle faces of ZZS.

Wen Kexing's character:

He must be a highly-skilled martial artist based on how easily he kills two ghosts and that he can spot another skilled martial artist from a distance (beggar Zhou)

He's quite schemey. First, when he orders all his subordinates out to hunt for a man he just killed. Next, when he lets Gu Xiang go to check on the beggar, he's also subtly using her to test that unknown person's martial arts skills.

Why they're soulmates:

WKX understood immediately what "beggar" Zhou was doing (suntanning)

They're both well-matched schemey bastards

Behind the cut, geographical details and some details about the supporting characters. This is a very text-heavy post FYI

In chronological order:

20 years ago, Rong Xuan was killed by the Five Lakes Alliance and the gathered heroes.

Prince Jin is based far away in the North (Hedong 河东), where he holds power. It implies most of the story later takes place closer to the south of China.

Prince Jin ordered the Window of Heaven (TC in short, for Tian Chuang) to assassinate the Military Governor of Zhenwu (Officer Li). The Zhenwu Army is located somewhere around Inner Mongolia today.

Prince Jin falsely claims the Military Governor is a traitor to the country and has him assassinated. Prince Jin harbours treasonous thoughts, and in turn, makes ZZS and TC traitors.

Officer Li recognized Zhou Zishu by sight (calls him Officer Zhou), which means that they must have met previously somehow. He is shocked to know that ZZS is the leader of TC, so TC must be a secret assassin/spy organization (like an ancient CIA)

Zhou Zishu gets a drop of blood on his sword and flicks it off – he does not like blood.

Princess Jing An knows ZZS and first calls him Zhou shixiong (her first instinct is to use a familiar address). She later changes it to Officer Zhou when she realizes what he did.

Princess Jing An quotes, "The flowers blossom in all four seasons, knowing everything in the world", which makes ZZS turn to look at her - he sees the hairpin that his shidi Qin Jiuxiao made for the one he loves. ZZS gets super sad.

This line of poetry refers to the Four Seasons Manor (ZZS's martial arts sect)

ZZS, during his time as a court official, intentionally has a blank mask, so his emo is seen only in his slightly teary eyes.  Removing this mask is also part of the freedom he seeks. Possibly symbolic that he feels freer living behind a physical mask than he does with his face.

Prince Jin ordered ZZS to personally nail the seven nails into Bi Chang Feng (Uncle Bi). It seems somewhat cruel of the Prince. ZZS walks with 2 of his commanders – Duan Pengju and Han Ying.

Uncle Bi calls ZZS Manor Lord (庄主)*. He says he cannot help but suspect the motives of Prince Jin. ZZS shows a slight reaction to this. He knows the motivations of Prince Jin by now. Not only is he a traitor himself, but he dragged all his 81 men down with him.

This is the root cause of ZZS's different personality traits in the drama and novel. I think his character in both the book and drama adaption is similar, but his additional compassion stems from being placed in different circumstances.

Novel!ZZS did terrible things for the right reasons. As a result, he won't feel as guilty and has less reason to be so compassionate.

Drama!ZZS followed the wrong master, and the awful things he did were for treasonous reasons. There's no justification for the lives he took. Because he did worse things, he's better able to "see the light" and understand things in life better. Therefore, kinder.

The motto of the Window of Heaven (as requested by Prince Jin):

The members are to carry out their missions without leaving a trace (shadow without traces)

Once a person enters TC, they're never to leave (entry without exit.)

To know everything and to be everywhere.

When the camera cuts to ZZS's two senior officers, Han Ying shuts his eyes sadly while Duan Pengju has a slight smile on his face 🤨🤨.

Nails of Seven Torments (七窍三秋钉) – seven nails, each to be driven into the seven primary acupoints (for martial arts) in a person's body. After that, a person won't get to see more than three autumns. They would lose their martial arts ability entirely, and their five senses deteriorate over time, preventing the secrets of TC from being leaked. (see #2 of their motto)

ZZS does not like anyone who's not from his sect to call him Manor Lord, as it's a reminder of his failings. He doesn't think he has the right to be called that any longer since he ruined his sect.

Prince Jin calls ZZS by his name directly (Zishu); it implies a certain level of familiarity. However, ZZS hasn't been presented himself in front of Prince Jin in some time, suggesting he has already distanced himself from Prince Jin (and a certain level of disrespect)

From Duan Pengju, we learn that ZZS hadn't taken up his sword much in the past year due to a lingering injury; this time at the Military Governor's residence was the first time he wielded his sword in a while.

DPJ also uses this word again (又) in Chinese to describe ZZS aggravating his injuries again (that isn't in the YT subs), which implies that he has suffered other internal injuries before, not solely from QJX's death. DPJ is subtly suggesting to Prince Jin that ZZS is no longer very fit and not suitable for his role (shows us his ambition).

ZZS's current injury (that Uncle Bi refers to and why he coughed up blood in the snow) came about after Qin Jiuxiao's (shidi) death. He coughed up blood then and fainted.**

ZZS's residence is called Chongming Garden (重明苑), where he has a mural of 82 white flowers and the line of poetry about the Four Seasons Manor. He paints each flower red when one of his original sect members pass away. There's only one white flower left --- himself.  See this link for a more detailed translation.

ZZS scolds a vision of his shidi not to cry. ZZS's assertion that men shouldn't cry comes up several times later. His eyes only get teary after this scene, and not a single tear falls again (still canon for now).

ZZS has an official court position. He's an Imperial Guard with some seniority, and it's likely why the Military Governor calls him Officer Li. (A governor would not call a low ranked Imperial Guard “Officer” 大人 daren)

ZZS has several battle wounds from a blade, but the ones on his back (shoulder blades) look messy. Not sure what they are yet, but I think it could become relevant later.

Prince Jin appears unstable when he talks about everyone leaving him. Yunxing and Beiyuan are both characters from Lord Seventh. Beiyuan is the titular character of that novel. When Prince Jin said, "Beiyuan is gone too", ZZS displays a minute reaction because he knows Beiyuan isn't actually dead.

Prince Jin says ZZS is ruthless, but he's even more so to himself (recurring description).

Here, we see that ZZS knows of DPJ's ambition to take over his job when he says they both get their wishes today. DPJ becomes the new TC leader.

Prince Jin lets ZZS go. As he watches ZZS leave, he recites two lines from a poem, which title roughly translates to "on one's deathbed/imminent death".***

“涓涓江汉流，天窗通冥室。谗邪害公正，浮云翳白日。” Small streams can become large rivers; even a window as small as a skylight can brighten a dark room. Rumours and evil can harm the public good; clouds can block the bright light of the sun.

There's some foreshadowing here. Prince Jin sees ZZS leaving as a threat. It could be that one person leaving TC "standing" may lead to an exodus or that ZZS knows too much to be left alive outside for long. Prince Jin sees himself as the righteous and the sun here. He follows the recital by saying he's only letting ZZS go for now.

ZZS's beggar styling is supposed to juxtapose his strict and neat dress as the leader of TC, including his hair and overall CBAssed-ness of how his clothes hang.

Hanged ghost died super quick. We see an arm covered in a red sleeve strangle him to death. Red sleeve dude seems to be the head of the Ghost Valley (yaaaaa we know who you are)

WKX lies to the masses about the Hanged Ghost and tells them to set forth out of the Ghost Valley. We can see that all of them are scared of him. He has a scheme -- but we don’t know what it is yet.

WKX and ZZS meet (yay!!!) in Yue (modern-day Zhejiang, in the south), far away from Prince Jin. We should note that this is very far away from the North, where Prince Jin and TC hold power.

ZZS would rather be a beggar than the Emperor. The freedom to live and do whatever he chooses is more important to him than riches or power.

WKX understood what ZZS was doing right away (while GX thinks he's a beggar). This is why they're soulmates!

Gu Xiang's cuteness comes off as a little forced here, but upon re-watching, I believe it's because she hasn't been out in the "human world" before. Her mannerisms are all learned from her life in the Ghost Valley. She's also about ten years younger than WKX, so she's supposed to be more energetic.

WKX allows GX to go down partly because he is curious about the beggar, who seems to be very skilled at martial arts. GX is quite a straightforward and innocent person. She's unaware that she's helping to test the beggar's skills for her master.

WKX notices the ZZS's martial arts and stands up right away. This scene is also more important than it seems to be at first. Later in episode 2, it's revealed that he recognized the beggar's particular martial arts as unique to the Four Seasons Manor sect. I think it's the first hint that beggar Zhou may be "Zhou Zishu". (We find out that WKX knows ZZS's real name in episode 6.)

ZZS intentionally hits himself to make himself seem like a poor injured beggar and GX a bully. It shows that ZZS is sneaky – and again, ruthless, even to himself.

* ZZS is not a real lord. He's the sect leader (Manor Lord comes about because his sect's name ends in Manor, and the address "my lord" comes from Manor Lord). ** This is a fictional type of injury, where people in Chinese historical dramas cough up blood when they suffer severe emotional shocks that cause some unexplained internal injury. *** 《临终诗》

[witch-yangie]

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| 𝕸𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝕷𝖎𝖚 𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖞𝖆𝖓𝖌 |

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖂𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍

𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Yangyang is widely known to be the son of a sinister and demented wizard, their title being The Demented Scarlet. While his mother was a mortal, having no witches blood, Yangyang inherited more of his father's genes, becoming a witch who is as strong as his father, but inexperienced. However, his whereabouts are unknown.

𝐒𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲: Although not many have interacted personally with him, some suspect him to be a reckless and careless witch. Others say he's manipulative and dangerous, putting on a caring facade to lead others into trusting him and using them. Others believe he acts like a delinquent, having no regards for the rules and consequences that follow.

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝: Yangyang grew up originally in Taiwan, but his location is unknown being that it was a remote area. But later, his family moved to Germany where he learned English and German. There, he grew up throughout the majority of his life, his school small with poor education. But his mother and father were his teachers. But after the following events in his life, the murder of his father and the death of his mother, Yangyang fled Germany and began to travel to various places. His current location is unknown to this day.

𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞(𝐬): At the moment, Yangyang is being held accountable for: the murder of his father (and possibly his mother), theft of numerous markets, harm to the innocent, the murder of a teenage male, and for hurting officials.

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦: Yangyang claims that he is accountable for his father's death, giving reasoning that he indeed had lost control and was a revenge for his mother. However, he claims that he has never stolen any items from the following places, caused harm, and is not the one responsible for the death of the teenager, and that he hasn't inflicted and harm to the officials but bindings. But there is no evidence the support his claim.

| 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖞𝖆𝖓𝖌 |

𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞 𝖇𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 . . .

【𝟏】 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞: You're beginning a new year within college, ready for the year of brutality and chaos of school, teachers, countless papers, and class drama, when you're astounded by a new student; Liu Yangyang. You're curious of what he is like, fascinated with the strange aura he has that's friendly, but mysterious when you notice his odd distance with students even when smiling. What will you do?

【𝟐】 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫: Living a peaceful life despite struggles, you've always had a stable life within your city. You're familiar with those within your neighborhood, but always frown when you notice the house beside you hasn't been bought for years. But you're pleasantly surprised one day when you see that someone is now living within the house that has been abandoned. When you go to greet your new neighbor, you're stunned to find that he's fairly young; Liu Yangyang. What do you choose to do?

【𝟑】 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫: While outside, tending to whatever it is that you were planning to do that day: grocery shopping, walking, exercising, heading home, etc., you stumble upon a new resident within the city who is unfamiliar and unsure of where to go. You offer assistance, but what will you do with him? Where will you take him? . . . Will you choose to help him everyday? To continue seeing him?

【𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲】: Piece together your pathway of how you meet The Demented Witch. It can be anything that you'd like: different century, different life, different world, and more, BUT it must have Yangyang as his following concept and CANNOT include NSFW.

| 𝕽𝖚𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝕭𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝕬𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 |

𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 . . .

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| 𝕬𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 |

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𝕺𝕲𝖘: @yanlee [Chatbots] @hybrid-babies (aka puppybunnyyang) [Yangyang] @hunter-chaeyoung (aka witchy-chaeyoung) [Witch Chatbot] @xxmarkleex [NCT chatbot]

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[vajranam]

Cup Of Tea

What Tea Can Teach You

There was a Japanese Zen master named Nan-in who lived during the Meiji era (1868-1912). During his days as a teacher, he was visited by a university professor curious about Zen.

Being polite, Nan-in served the professor a cup of tea.

As he poured, the professor’s cup became full, but Nan-in kept on pouring. As the professor watched the cup overflow, he could no longer contain himself and said, “It is overfull. No more will go in!”

Nan-in turned to the professor and said, “Like the cup, you are too full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?”

The Beginning :

first things first I am Ngakpa Konchok Dorje Tsondon, this blog had several life’s because sometimes the provider played update tricks sometimes was myself who wanted different things.

I am a yogi from the Drikung Kagyu Lineage but my roots of Buddha Dharma are from Karma Kagyu, Nigmapas, Gulugpas and Shaigon, Zen I had lot of different teachers, because my view was build on Jagung Kuntrul Rinpoche teaching and Kalu Rinpoche teaching “Rimey”. After lot of chaos and tones of challenges one day I found Garchen Rinpoche who became my vajra master.

Let have a cup of tea

I heard that a lot why do you teach? My answers are on my Ngakpa vows there is some point about that but my real answer is Bodhicitta that why I teach, I am just an insect compare to the big Rinpoche but if one of my text help one being I rejoice in it.

Attitude To Dharma

The Buddha teach about the three pots, this teaching is extremely important because learn us the right view we need to take. The Tea teaching is another one why is before all of the teachings. Well not just because I love Koan and I love do Koan but more because today we are all full as a cup of tea.

Recently I heard something on the radio about a scientific who been to India talked with the Swamies and Lamas. He was surprised about the full effect of meditation but he forgot one thing to empty is a cup.

Like that scientist, we all come with a massive cup full of judgement, views, information and mostly let’s call it massive ego.

When I touch the holy land of India I had a simple question in my head how to stop suffering but even with that, I had to learn to empty my cup because not doing it will be like asking the Dalai Lama for help and not take any of his advice.

Dharma whatever dharma you take isn’t like going to church and eat kinda truth and everyone happy, whatever you take Vedic, Buddha or Sikh dharma be ready for the ride. That means dharma is base on experience a teacher will show you the way but you got to do 100% of the efforts to get there.

No one will save you from your “mistakes” Christian call that sin we call that non virtue, non virtues are like putting a mine in road that you drive and forgot about it. The problem when the mine gonna to explode that when the problem start.

The right attitude to dharma well whatever level we are we always learn, new ways there for we should develop the student attitude. Keep mind open and keep humble.

50 Verses of Guru Devotion

Composed by Ashvagosha

L1. Bowing in the proper way to the lotus feet of my Guru, who is the cause for me to attain the state of a glorious Vajrasattva, I shall condense and explain in brief what has been said in many stainless tantric texts about Guru-devotion. (Therefore) listen with respect.

2. All the Buddhas of the past, present and future, residing in every land in the ten directions, have paid homage to the Tantric Masters from whom they have received the highest initiations. (Is there need to mention that you should too?)

3. Three times each day, with supreme faith, you must show your respect to your Guru who teaches you (the tantric path), by pressing your palms together, offering a mandala as well as flowers and prostrating (touching) your head to his feet.

4. Those who hold ordination vows, if (your Guru) is a layman or your junior, prostrate (in public) while facing such things as his scriptural texts in order to avoid worldly scorn. But in your mind (prostrate to your Guru).

5. As for serving (your Guru) and showing him respect, such as obeying what he says, standing up (when he comes) and showing him to his seat — these should be done even by those with ordination vows (whose Gurus are laymen or their juniors). But (in public), avoid prostrating and unorthodox actions (such as washing his feet).

6. In order for the words of honour of neither the Guru nor the disciple to degenerate, there must be a mutual examination beforehand (to determine if each can) brave a Guru-disciple relationship.

7. A disciple with sense should not accept as his Guru someone who lacks compassion or who is angersome, vicious or arrogant, possessive, undisciplined or boasts of his knowledge.

8. (A Guru should be) stable (in his actions), cultivated (in his speech), wise, patient and honest. He should neither conceal his shortcomings, nor pretend to possess qualities he lacks. He should be an expert in the meanings (of tantra) and in its ritual procedures (of medicine and turning back obstacles). Also he should have loving compassion and a complete knowledge of the scriptures.

9. He should have full experience in all ten fields, skill in the drawing of mandalas, full knowledge of how to explain the tantras, supreme faith and his senses fully under control.

10. Having become the disciple of such a protecting (Guru), should you then despise him from your heart, you will reap continual suffering as if you had disparaged all the Buddhas.

11. If you are so foolish as to despise your Guru, you will contract contagious diseases and those caused by harmful spirits. You will die (a horrible death) caused by demons, plagues or poison.

12. You will be killed by (wicked) kings or fire, by poisonous snakes, water, witches or bandits, by harmful spirits or savages, and then be reborn in a hell.

13. Never disturb you Guru’s mind. Should you be foolish and happen to do this, you will surely boil in hell.

14. Whatever fearful hells have been taught, such as Avici, the Hell of Uninterrupted pain, it is clearly explained that those who disparage their Gurus will have to remain there (a very long time).

15. Therefore, exert yourself wholeheartedly never to belittle your Tantric Master who makes no display of his great wisdom and virtues.

16. (If from a lack of awareness you have shown disrespect) to your Guru, reverently present an offering to him and seek his forgiveness. Then in the future such harms and plagues will not befall you.

17. It has been taught that for the Guru to whom you have pledged your word of honour (to visualize as one with your meditational deity), you should willingly sacrifice your wife, children and even your life, although these are not (easy) to give away. Is there need to mention your fleeting weath?

18. (Such practice of offering) can confer even Buddhahood on a zealous (disciple) in his very lifetime, which otherwise might be difficult to attain even in countless millions of eons.

19. Always keep your word of honour. Always make offerings to the Enlightened Ones. Always make offerings also to your Guru, for he is the same as all the Buddhas.

20. Those who wish (to attain) the inexhaustible (state of a Buddha’s Wisdom Body) should give to their Guru whatever they themselves find pleasing, from the most trifling objects to those of best quality.

21. Giving (to your Guru) is the same as making continual offerings to all the Buddhas. From such giving, much merit is gathered. From such collection comes the supreme powerful attainment (of Buddhahood).

22. Therefore, a disciple with the good qualities of compassion, generosity, moral self-control and patience should never regard his Guru and the Buddha Vajradhara as different.

23. If you should never tread even on (your Guru’s) shadow, because the fearsome consequences are the same as destroying a stupa, is there need to mention never stepping on or over his shoes or seat, (sitting in his place or riding) his mount?

24. (A disciple) having great sense should obey the words of his Guru joyfully and with enthusiasm. If you lack the knowledge or ability (to do what he says), explain in (polite) words why you cannot (comply).

25. It is from your Guru that powerful attainments, higher rebirth and happiness come. Therefore, make a wholehearted effort never to transgress your Guru’s advice.

26. (Guard) your Guru’s belongings as you would your own life. Treat even your Guru’s beloved (family) with the same (respect you show for him). (Have affectionate regard for) those closely around him as if they were your own dearest kin. Single-mindedly think (in this way) at all times.

27. Never sit on the (same) bed or seat (as your Guru), nor walk ahead of him. (At teachings do not) wear your hair in a top-knot, (a hat, shoes or any weapons). Never touch a seat (before he sits down), or if he happens to sits on the ground. Do not place your hands (proudly) on your hips or wring them (before him).

28. Never sit or recline while your Guru is standing (nor lie while he is sitting). Always be ready to stand up and serve him skillfully in an excellent manner.

29. In the presence of your Guru, never do such things as spit, (cough or sneeze without covering your mouth). Never stretch out your legs when at your seat, nor walk back and forth (without reason before him), and never argue.

30. Never massage or rub your limbs. Do not sing, dance or play musical instruments (for other than religious purposes). And never chatter idly or speak in excess (or too loudly) within the range of (your Guru’s) hearing.

31. (When your Guru enters the room) get up from your seat and bow your head slightly. Sit (in his presence) respectfully. At night, at rivers or on dangerous paths, with (your Guru’s) permission, you may walk before him.

32. In the direct sight of his Guru, (a disciple) with sense should not (sit) with his body twisted around, nor lean (casually) against pillars and such. Never crack your knuckles, (play with your fingers or clean your nails).

33. When washing (your Guru’s) feet or his body, drying, massaging (or shaving) him, precede such actions with (three) prostrations and at their conclusion do the same. Then attend (to yourself) as much as you like.

34. Should you need to address (your Guru) by his name, add the title “Your Presence” after it. To generate respect for him in others, further honorifics may also be used.

35. When asking for your Guru’s advice, first announce why you have come. With palms pressed together at your heart, listen to what he tells you, without (letting your mind) wander about. Then (when he has spoken), you should reply, “I shall do exactly as you have said.”

36. After doing (what your Guru has told you), report (what has happened) in polite, gentle words. Should you yawn or cough, (clear your throat or laugh in his presence), cover your mouth with your hand.

37. If you wish to receive a certain teaching, request three times with your palms pressed together, while before him on your (right) knee. (Then at his discourse), sit humbly and with respect, wearing appropriate clothing that is neat (and clean, without ornaments, jewelry or cosmetics).

38. Whatever you do to serve (your Guru) or show him respect, should never be done with an arrogant mind. Instead you should be like a newlywed bride, timid, bashful and very subdued.

39. In the presence of (the Guru) who teaches you (the Path), stop acting in a conceited, coquettish manner. As for boasting to others what you have done (for your Guru), examine (your conscience) and discard all such acts.

40. If you are (requested) to perform a consecration, (an initiation into) a mandala, a fire puja or to gather disciples and deliver a discourse, you may not do so if your Guru resides in that area, unless you receive his prior permission.

41. Whatever offerings you receive from performing such rites as (the consecration known as) “Opening the Eyes”, you should present all these to your Guru. Once he has taken a token portion, you may use the rest for whatever you like.

42. In the presence of his Guru, a disciple should not act (as a Guru) to his own disciples and they should not act towards him as their Guru. Therefore (before your own Guru), stop (your disciples) from showing you respect such as rising (when you come) and making prostrations.

43. Whenever you make an offering to your Guru, or whenever your Guru presents you with something, a disciple with sense will (present and) receive this, using both hands and with his head slightly bent.

44. Be diligent in all your actions, (alert and) mindful never to forget (your word of honour). If fellow disciples transgress (what is proper) in their behaviour, correct each other in a friendly manner.

45. If because of sickness you are physically (unable) to bow to your Guru and must do what normally would be prohibited, even without (his explicit) permission, there will be no unfortunate consequences if you have a virtuous mind.

46. What need is there to say much more. Do whatever pleases your Guru and avoid doing anything he would not like. Be diligent in both of these.

47. “Powerful attainments follow from (doing what) your Guru (likes).” This has been said by (the Buddha) Vajradhara himself. Knowing this, try to please your Guru fully with all the actions (of your body, speech and mind).

48. After a disciple has taken refuge in the Triple Gem and developed a pure (Enlightened) motive, he should be given this (text) to take to his heart (how to abandon his own arrogant self-will and) follow in his Guru’s footsteps (along the Graded Path to Enlightenment).

49. (By studying the prerequisite trainings of Guru-devotion and the Graded Path, common to both the Sutra and Tantra,) you will become a (suitable) vessel (to hold) the pure Dharma. You may then be given such teachings as Tantra. (After receiving the proper initiations,) recite out loud the fourteen root vows and take them sincerely to your heart.

50. As I have not made the mistake (of adding my personal interpretation) when writing this work, may this be of infinite benefit to all disciples who would follow their Guru. By the limitless merit I have gathered in this way, may all sentient beings quickly attain Buddhahood

[princesspiratecat]

The Rise and Fall of the Shepard Family Part 15: Winter, 1082

Part 1& Part 2

Part 3 & Part 4

Part 5 & Part 6 & Part 7

Part 8 & Part 9 & Part 10

Part 11 & Part 12 & Part 13

Part 14

Things changed as soon as Edyth moved in. At first, it was clear that she was acting in the compacity of a servant. She cleaned, served meals, and tended to the animals. But as her pregnancy progressed she was treated in a more favorable way and given her own chambers across the hall from Marcelle. She also stopped doing much of anything, and the house soon became a scene of disarray, tension, and confusion. By the time her daughter, Agnes, was born, Marcelle let her do whatever she wished.

The older children had been shocked that another woman had come to take their mother’s place so quickly. All three of them thought it was disrespectful to the memory of their mother- it was just too soon. The younger children were largely ignored by Edyth, and they knew enough about people to know when they weren’t liked. Edyth had grown used to only paying mind to those that were important, and she hypocritically resented the idea of playing mother to anyone else’s children. This was how little Edith Shepard had come to stay in the Squire’s residence in the first place. 

In truth, Edyth resented them for being born into a life she could only dream of. And when she was alone with Marcelle, acted as his ears and eyes and told him everything that the children had done in his absence. She also talked poorly about Gwendolyn, as it was a well known fact that she was only the daughter of a Shepard- peasant folk. Why should she get to marry so far above her station, when Edyth knew she would never receive such a proposal from her father in law?!

One night, after he had come to her rooms, she said, “My Lord, is she not the daughter of a peasant? Do you think that is a good match for your first born son?” Marcelle said nothing, but the idea had already been injected into his head, and she saw the wheels begin to turn. 

Shortly afterwards, Agnes was born. And the next night Marcelle, who had been rather neglectful of his children, called Frances into the Great Hall to discuss his upcoming marriage. His face was serious and solemn, and he got straight to the point. 

“I have decided that you will end your engagement to the Shepard girl, and instead marry a Lady that is more appropriate to your rank as my heir.”

Shocked, Frances stood there for some moments, not knowing what to say. Finally, he replied, “But the arrangements have been made for some time, and we announced our betrothal to everyone. You have already accepted her dowry and sold her estate. If you did not wish me to marry her, why did you make those arrangements?”

Marcelle cleared his throat and colored. “I can see you are concerned about the girl, and I promise you she will be well taken care of at the orphanage. She will want for nothing and will be able to live in a manner far above her lowly station.”

“Her lowly station? She is not so lowly as you think her. She is intelligent, kind, caring, and has learned everything from Mother that will help her thrive in the role of my wife and Lady. I don’t understand why you have suddenly changed your wishes from that of my Mother.”

He scoffed, “Your mother had some silly romantic ideas in her head, and I should have never let her arrange the match. I let your mother get her way far too often, and I should have put her in her place long ago-”

“Arrange the match?! What are you saying?”

Marcelle bit his lip in regret, as he had not meant to make all known. But what did it matter? 

“Your mother made sure to throw you two together, frequently and often. She wanted you to marry the Shepard girl, and not the Whitestone heir. She thought Llywelyn an honorable man due to his past military exploits. But it was a silly idea. A Shepard is a Shepard, and I will not have it for my first born son.” He gritted his teeth with contempt as he said the last part, so the words seemed to slither out of his mouth like a snake.

Frances suddenly felt a touch of queasiness at the thought of his parents doing anything behind his back. He had always believed that they might arrange a match for him, but he had hoped he would have some say in the matter. What was the reason for all the secrecy? 

“I cannot comprehend what you are saying. You gave your consent long ago! We have been engaged for months, and have publicly announced the match. You cannot just go against Mother’s own wishes and call it off on your own whim! And her name is Gwendolyn. Stop calling her "Shepard girl!” Frances had never so much as raised his tone to his father, ever, but now he was shouting. 

In truth, Frances had always somewhat feared his father. Marcelle did everything with absolute resolution and with such force of will, never had he once questioned his own decisions. He did not bother taking counsel from anyone, or listening, and Frances knew that. Most of the arguments that entered the head of his son died on his lips, as it seemed futile to argue with such a stubborn man.

Marcelle then stood up, his face bright with rage. 

“Do you really want to throw your life away on a mere peasant girl? If you want to make her your mistress, do it discreetly! Build her a cottage where you can visit her. But you will not marry her, or I will cut you off at the knees without a farthing to your name!”

“Father- I love her!” Frances resented the way this sounded, more like a plea from a child rather than a man about to be married.

“Don’t be a fool. You can bed her without letting her lowly birth tarnish your house. Everything I have done I have done for you. I will not see you play the fool!”

Deflated and defeated, Frances knew he still must plead her case as much as he was able. After she had cut off her own long engagement to Oswald for him, he could not abandon her. He would not. 

“Very well. But you must give her back her dowry. How much was it worth?! Not enough I am beginning to understand! If I am not to marry her, you must give her back what is her rightful inheritance. It is the only honorable thing to do, though we both know none of this is honorable!” 

“Don’t you speak to me of honor boy! Lord knows what you’ve been up to at night with your peasant whore! That money has been spent for the care and upkeep of her and her siblings. Our family owes them nothing! Nothing!”

That’s when Frances realized in a moment of terrifying clarity that his father had used her dowry on the building of his church. Stunned, he felt hot tears stream down his face. So he had robbed her of her marriage, robbed her of her dowry and inheritance, and now was robbing the couple of any future they might have had together! He didn’t know what to say, and knew there was nothing he could do. So he simply turned away and walked.

 He kept walking until he reached the open air, and then walked more until his estate was far behind him. He had to clear his head, but he couldn’t stop his heart from squeezing out fresh tears. Oh, to think of the promises he had made her while she wept in her room! They all sounded like lies now, and he hung his head in shame and sobbed. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!”

[redhawtriot]

Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I felt as though since this story had such a specific narrative (especially delving into the harsh world of modeling and the effects of discrimination) that it would reach out to a very specific niche of reader.

I was actually astonished by loud support this fic has obtained so for, so thank you so much! I cannot stress enough how much that means to me. 

HnM 💕

Tag-list: @steggy4ever​ @library-trash​ @watevermelon​ @glimmadora-ble​ @persephones24​ @dragonempress123​ @your-pri-ncess @broken-from-fandoms​ @hot-pocket01​ @tsukineho​

Month 1, Month 3

--Month 2--

No.

You looked at the stick of plastic in your hand with wide eyes as your mouth stuttered into a slack jaw—your breaths hardly making their way in and out of your lungs evenly.

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you saw white spots underneath your lids before you snapped them back open again, internally praying that you would wake up form whatever nightmare you were having.

However, you couldn’t blink away the big, fat smiley face that stared back up at you from the piece of purple and white plastic that sealed your fate.

No. No. No!

The sudden urge to puke came back with a vengeance and you threw yourself to the toilet, slamming your knees to the ground in the process. As your stomach lurched up into your chest, you couldn’t tell whether the tears forming in your eyes were from the harshness of the motion or something else entirely.

“Gah!” you loudly choked out as you pulled away from the mess in the toilet. 

Once the nausea became slightly less debilitating you leaned back against your bathtub, throwing your head up as you groaned to the ceiling, “No, no, no, nooo…” you softly sobbed. You tried your best to keep from bawling so you didn’t find yourself with your head back in the bowl, but you couldn’t help the stream of hot tears that spilled from your eyes as you stared at the vent in the ceiling.

How could this happen? How could you be… pr...

A sudden stirring in your gut made you swallow hard as you tried to keep your stomach out of your throat.

Don’t be an idiot, Y/N. You took sex education in high school. You put the condom on the banana and were scolded with constant threats of STDs and the fires of Hell like everybody else. So yeah. You know how it happened.

You sighed as you thought back to all the guys you had slept with recently-- which was luckily not too many within the past few months, and only one since your last period.

Fuck, you didn’t even remember what the damn fathe-- guy looked like.

Well, excluding his rippling muscles.

You threw your head into your hands as the uncanny image of a body builder newborn infiltrated your mind. Well, that didn’t fucking help at all. Grabbing your hair tightly as you stared at the tile between your legs, you cursed yourself, “You dumbass! How could you be so goddamn stupid!? Stupid, stupid, stupid!” you repeatedly knocked against your skull.

You reached into the recesses of your memory for any information you might have about the guy. Where was his apartment again...? On the other side of town somewhere right… Near Club 52? God, you didn’t even fucking know! and what did it matter anyway, huh? What were you gonna do? Storm up to his place, pregnancy tests a-blazin’, and tell the complete stranger that you were carrying his kid?!

With a weak and tired moan, you lifted yourself off of your bathroom floor and went to the sink to rinse your bile infested mouth out and wash the salty tears off of your cheeks.

But not before you got a good look at yourself in the mirror.

Swollen eyes.

Red nose.

Drying, teary snot pooling on the rim of your upper lip.

“You look like shit,” you harshly reprimanded yourself before turning the sink on and sticking your face into the cool water. Your hands blindly reached around your counter until you finally grabbed a nearby hand towel to bring to your face. As you patted your cheeks dry, your eyes wandered to the counter where three other positive pregnancy tests that you had taken earlier that morning resided.

The trio all sported a similar smug smile as they looked up to you as if to say ‘we told you so.’

The little shits.

“Shut up.” You quickly grabbed all four tests and with a hint of bitterness chucked them into a nearby trash bin before making your way to your bedroom across the hall.

Plopping down onto your screeching mattress, you took your phone out:

Boss Lady

[2:50 pm]

Hey, brat. I hope you’re doing better.

Don’t forget that we have that runway fitting next week. And the test shots. And the international scouting event.

Think. Thin.

No carbs. No red meats.

NO ALCOHOL!!!

Fucking no alcohol for nine whole months. You attempted to scoff at this, but what came out could have probably been mistaken for the last sounds of a dying animal.

Kimi:

[3:31 pm]

Hope you made it home safe last night!

As you read this text, a piece of you wished that maybe you hadn't made it home safe last night... Your brain briefly wandered into the dark territories of ‘what if’s’ as you imagined falling in front of the train at the subway, walking past a drug deal gone wrong, hell-- drowning on the water you took with your Pepto Bismol. You quickly brushed these thoughts away as you continued looking through your phone, 

Boss Lady

[4:45 pm]

Oh, also Deku just asked for a meeting with you personally.

You’re going of course. Glad you got his attention. Good girl.

Tomorrow.  5:00pm. El Vino’s downtown. (EAT LIGHTLY!)

Inches! Inches! Inches!

You slammed your phone down onto your mattress as you loudly sighed.

Inches. Your entire livelihood depended on your damn inches and now there was no way you could maintain the “golden ratio.” The thought made your blood churn.

Modeling… was all that you had. You didn’t have any other fucking talents—no quirk to depend on-- so when would your growing stomach steal your life away?

When do people even start ‘showing’? 

You haven’t come across many pregnant women, but all of the ones you have seen either looked like normal people or like freaking beach balls. For some reason your brain couldn’t conjure an intermediate.

Did they just blow up out of nowhere? If so, then when? How long could you pull a ruse off before your growing organ snitched on you? 5 months? 6 months? Next fucking week?

You realized then that you knew next to jack squat about pregnancy.

Or damn kids for that matter.

Okay so... abortion? For some reason, even just the thought of that word made an icky taste surge in your mouth—or maybe it was the leftover vomit, who knows?

To be honest, you had never really thought much on abortion before—it was one of the many topics filed into your brain under ‘that does not and will not pertain to me, so why the fuck should I care?’ Filtered out and forgotten, your feelings on abortion had yet to be developed.

Until now.

After a few beats, you opened your phone back up and began to dial Kimi, fearing that you might soon explode with the brunt of knowledge that weighed heavily upon your shoulders.

You paused.

Had you ever actually talked to her about anything that wasn’t exclusively work related? In the past two years of knowing her, have you ever actually learned anything about her, and she about you? Very suddenly, you were slapped in the face by a crude fact: Kimi was just a work-friend.

That was fucking fine and dandy up until now. You pretty much either worked, or drank, or showed up to work drunk. But now…

Shit.

Who the hell else could you call? You barely had any friends, and you hadn’t talked to your family in what felt like ages. Who was there for situations like this? If half of your life was working, and half of your life was drinking, and your work friends were a no go… what about your drinking friends? Your mind briefly fled to the stashes of your best buddies-- vodka and tequila-- that you kept in your kitchen.

But not even they could save you now.

Fuck you really were alone.

That night, you found yourself constantly flipping your pillow to find a new dry spot to assault with fresh tears. You hadn’t cried so much since you were a kid. Wait-- come to think of it, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had cried at all.

So, was it hormones? Pregnancy hormones?

The surreal thought made your tears fly down your face even more furiously.

The next evening there was practically no trace or evidence of your mental breakdown from the night before as you strolled up to El Vino’s. It was honestly kind of frightening how quickly you had managed to pull yourself together before this little meeting—but mostly, it was empowering.

Okay, Y/N. You fucking got this. Hormones or not, you were still a baddie to your very core.

Deku was easy enough to spot in the little Mediterranean themed restaurant—with the green-ass hair and all. You strolled up to the table with the warmest smile that you could muster, “Mr. Deku,” you quickly approached his table and gave a slight bow.  

“H-Hey!” You seemed to startle him with your sudden appearance. He jumped a bit in his seat and awkwardly shifted as you made your way to your own chair. His face was a bit red as you maintained your eyes on his shying expression. 

“Look, before you say anything. I just want to say sorry,” his shocked eyes suddenly snapped back up to yours as you continued, “I had no idea that the event was yours and I probably ruined the rest of the night for you. If you want me off the brand deal, then I completely understand, just... don’t blame Ainu’s agency.”

His mouth fumbled over itself for a moment, causing you to quirk an unsure eyebrow before he could finally speak up, “No t-that’s not what I am here for at all, Miss L/N.”

“Call me Y/N. please,” your smirk was a little less sure than usual and you prayed that he couldn’t detect how off he had thrown you. This was going much different than you had expected it to. For one, he wasn’t trying to ‘put you in your place for disrespecting him’ or bargain  sex ‘as an apology’ like most power hungry men in his position would.

“Okay, M-miss Y/N,” the blush that adorned his cheeks confused you even further and you felt the space between your eyebrows involuntarily tighten. That was another thing… He didn’t seem like a typical man in a position of power. He was… soft... you didn’t know how else to explain it other than unusual for a man of his size and stature.

“I actually wanted to apologize to you,” he spoke up once more and you were completely lost by then. You could only blink as he continued to speak, “You really got me thinking about things the other night-- you were totally right. The brand of my sneakers did lose its true meaning. I really meant to have it be a symbol for kids growing up without a quirk to enjoy—to give them hope, but it turned into more of an endorsement to myself. The whole thing. It was wrong. That’s why I have decided to give 100% of my personal Red Sneakers profits to establishing my Quirkless Youth Initiative,”

You looked around for any hidden cameras—any hidden agenda behind his motives before looking back to him with a stiff expression. You had to physically keep your face from scrunching, “And just how are you going to make a living out of a mindset like that?” you dared to call his bluff.

“It’s just gonna have to work. It’s what my mentor would have done—given 100%. Beyond actually.”

Holy shit. This man was being serious. ‘100% and beyond’ serious, to be exact. Your face scrunched up once more, “Why do you care so much anyway?” you cut back on your tone as you noticed his eyes widen a bit at your accusatory voice, “Not to be rude, but… what’s a strong hero like you doing caring about us quirkless?”

He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment or two. Contemplating on whether or not he was going to lie, you noticed, “I… I…  didn’t have a quirk until much later in life. I was 14. Growing up, I always wanted to be a hero, and I just wish that I had someone back then believe in me. I want to be the one that tells kid’s—with a smile-- that they can do it. That they have at least one person who believes in them.”

His name-- Deku-- it meant worthless. The puzzle pieces were finally coming together and things began to make sense. It was a name that either himself or others used to describe him when he was growing up probably, and the man had taken it and spun it around to make it his own. Even you had to admit--

“That’s pretty damn impressive,” you couldn’t help the curl that tugged into the corners of your lips as Deku bashfully looked away from you,

“It’s nothing, really!” he tried to deflect. You gave a small laugh before smoothly bringing up the glass of wine in front of you to your lips. As soon as the liquid rushed in your mouth, your eyes flew wide open with realization,

Shit! What the fuck were you doing?

You immediately spit the alcohol back into your cup and snapped your eyes back to Deku who had, thankfully, been too caught up in his own embarrassment to be paying attention to you. You gave a sigh of relief and sat the wine glass as far away from you as inconspicuously possible. 

“So,” you leaned into the table a bit to get his eyes back on you, “Tell me about this Quirkless Youth Initiative,” you smiled. 

From that point on, you and Deku actually found talking to each other relatively easy—okay, extremely easy. In fact, you stayed past the point of dinner and ended up talking at your table hours after the bill had been paid.

You talked about everything and nothing altogether and didn’t know just when to end the conversation. You lowered your borders for some reason. Well-- you knew the reason. It was because you had been dying to talk to someone since you found out that you were the ‘p-word.’

 He ended up walking you home. Past that, for the next two weeks you guys pretty much saw each other every other day or two and talked fairly regularly. Things became habitual.

In fact.

As you stood in the beaming light of the wardrobe, getting your makeup done, you found yourself stealing little glances here and there to your phone to text with your new friend, Deku. Every buzz of your phone left you with a giddy sense of excitement.

One of the models sharing the gigantic mirror with you quickly took notice of your demeanor, “What are you smiling at, Y/N?”

“She’s texting someone,” another spoke up as your friend/babysitter, Kimi strolled up next to you,

“What?! Y/N L/N texting someone back? Have we entered the Twilight Zone??” she joked. You only responded with poking your tongue out at her before your phone buzzed again, 

Deku:

[1:00 pm]

Good Luck on your runway thing today!

You:

More like run away thing🏃‍♀️💨

Deku:

I could help? Bring comfort snacks?

You:

Most of us haven’t eaten a full meal in days BB

You would literally be stampeded by women

Wait that sounded too good🤔

You will literally be stampeded by hungry women***

Deku:

You haven’t been eating?!

Since when?!

You:

That’s not what I said. 

Just pre-show prep to keep the waists snatched and the legends skinny💁‍♀️

Deku:

Sorry I don’t know how your job really works.

I’ll come over again tonight after your show and bring dinner!

If that’s okay. Sorry didn’t mean to sound pushy.

“Didn’t you hear? Her and Deku really hit it off on their date,”  Your attention was instantly snapped away from your phone screen.

You gave an ugly snort, “It wasn’t a date.” And you certainly weren’t lying. The friendly atmosphere between you and Izuku felt comfortable as best—nothing intimate about it.

You wouldn't have it any other way. It felt as though he was placed in your life to perfectly fill the holes in your boat just before you started sinking.

“Girl your phone is blowing up!” a co-worker exclaimed, loudly.

Kimi laughed as she pinched your cheeks, “Look at that smile on her face”

All of the commotion gathered the attention of Boss Lady, who was currently storming up to you with the ‘phone box’ (or phone cemetery as some of you liked to call it) in her hand. She liked to have this on her especially in big events like runways or show casings because some of the girls—you were guilty as charged—spent quite a bit of time on their phones behind the scenes, “Phone. Bin. Now.”

Usually, you would put up some type of argument or give a quick-witted remark, but this time around you only rushed to send one final text in before you threw your cellphone into the crate.

You:

[1:33pm]

I should get off at like 11 see you then broccoli boy🥦🤪

Kimi looked terrified as though she was the one who had just incurred Ainu’s wrath, “Still smiling, huh...?” 

You hadn’t even notice that you had been.

Talking to Deku really did make you happy when you needed it. Just like he spun ‘deku’ around and made it make sense, he had spun your life around and did the same. He made you feel like life was normal—whatever the hell that was. You’d never really been classified as normal anyway, but you had some impression that this resembled what it must feel like.

For a fleeting moment you think that maybe you should just sleep with Deku and pass this pregnancy off as his since you had yet to tell him-- or anyone-- about it. 

But the better half of you instantly slaps this thought out through your ears.

Hello? Welcome to psycho bitch incorporated. Seriously. What the fuck was wrong with you?

Damn, you had been separated from your phone (and Deku) for exactly 23 seconds and you were already outta your cot-damn mind. You get one friend and suddenly you don’t know how to act. 

You needed to somehow find “blond muscle man” and let him know what was up. Fuck, how were you supposed to do that when you didn’t even know his name?

The runway that night went pretty much how every single other runway went, except this time-- you opted not to attend any of the after parties. Instead, you went home and had Deku over, who delivered on his promise with sushi. 

You could smell the sushi as soon as he walked through the door and your mouth instantly watered. He really was god sent. 

The two of you settled quickly in your apartment, deciding to risk it all and eat on your living room couch to watch TV; however, you quickly noticed that the TV wasn’t the only thing that Izuku was watching. As soon as you turned to raise an eyebrow on him he feebly attempted to avert his gaze, but you caught him anyways, “What? You better stop sizing me up unless you wanna fight, Deku,” you sang as you popped another sushi roll into your mouth.

“W-what sizing you up?!”

You cackled at the sudden redness of his face, “I’m just joking. We both know I’d probably kick your ass!”

“You think so?” he actually sounded a bit nervous in his tone, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Oh, I know so,” you shrugged with a growing smirk, “Anyway. What are you staring so hard at me for?”

The air became very still around the two of you as he looked down to think. This was something that became pretty expectant of him these past few week-- a funny little habit.

“It’s just… we’ve been hanging out a lot the past few weeks and I never really noticed it—your… dieting,” he seemed to fall into that last word a bit as if it wasn’t exactly the word that he had wanted to use. 

You knew that he meant to say ‘starving yourself’ but was too reserved for that level of bluntness. That was okay with you. You weren't particularly ready to open that can of worms, “Damn, and here I was thinkin’ I was looking pretty damn good,” you joked as the both of you began cleaning up your food mess.  

“No. That’s not what I meant I—”

“Joking! I’m just joking with you, Big D,” you found yourself using this nickname for him whenever you wanted to see his face fall into it’s deepest shades of red. It worked every single time,

“I have just been at this for a long time—modeling for Ainu’s agency. Since I was 15 actually,” you shook your head a little at the surge of nostalgia that wanted to bubble up your back. You clutched a nearby pillow and hugged it to your chest, “She scouted me at a mall food court. She changed my entire life—for the better of course. She is practically my mom... I owe her a lot,” you found yourself giving into the nostalgia a bit-- a small, fond smile tugging at your lips. You looked up after a few beats of silence filled the air and was met with Deku’s admiring stare, “What? You nerd!” you exclaimed with a giggle, chucking the pillow at him. 

“It’s nothing. I just like hearing about you. I feel like I have been doing a lot of talking about me since we have been hanging out.”

Yeah, he was a Cancer zodiac for sure. You pretty much knew his entire life’s story after only the first week of knowing him, “Are you kidding me?! Your life is straight out of a comic book, BB! I love hearing about it!” You began talking to him from out of the kitchen as you put your leftovers in the fridge,

“You went up against the League of Villains, the Vanguard Action Front and The Paranormal Liberation Front as a freshman?? You powered up from a quirkless crybaby! (Hey!) to an amazing, uprising, super considerate, overpowered crybaby on his way to number one! Your U.A. friends all seem like comic book characters, too. I love them already from what you tell me,” you closed the fridge, revealing his shocked expression.

“Really?” You nodded, igniting a spark in his eyes, “Well, I am actually having a little get together at my place for my friends if you wanna stop by.”

“Yeah sure. As long as my favorite character, Kaminari, is there,” Izuku seemed shocked and slightly offended by your choice in favorite, so you clarified, “He sounded really cool and all with his ‘chatty zappy’ thing going on,” you suddenly rolled your eyes as a bad taste emerged in your mouth, “Kacchan sounds like a little bitch baby though, no offense.”

“Y/N!”

“What?! Kacchan can ‘Kach’ these ‘hans’! Oh come on. Not even a pity laugh? A little one?” You apparently thought you were a lot funnier than Izuku did. 

“I think the two of you might actually get along. You’re very similar now that I think about it,” he trailed off on his last part, seemingly talking to himself as he grabbed his chin. 

You almost felt offended by his comparison, “Fuck that. Oppisites attract, Similars repel. Besides. Why would I wanna be friends with a little bitch baby that bullies and pisses on quirkless people?”

“Well, when you meet him next week you might like him…”

You clicked your tongue, “So now I am obligated to come, huh?” you smirked.

“N-no well that’s not what I meant but I would appreciate if you—”

You were only half paying attention to his freak out as the abrupt craving for orange juice infiltrated your mind and placed itself on the forefront of your thoughts, “Deku. I am joking!” you absentmindedly reminded him as you scoured your pantries for a wine glass. You had taken to drinking out of these instead of regular cups to at least maintain a semblance of your old self. 

Izuku’s eyes widened at the sight of your collection of wines and alcohols in one of your cupboards. You smirked at him-- throwing him  look that said ‘you ain’t seen nothin yet’ as you opened your freezer to reveal the insane hoard of alcohol you had stored.

His jaw practically dropped to the floor at the sight, “Holy woah, you have an entire liquor store in here!”

“Saving for a rainy day,” you almost immediately realized the error of your words as Izuku motions to one of the windows near you. The two of you sat in a beat of silence as the pitter-patter of rainfall splattered against the glass pane.

“It’s raining today,” he grinned excitedly. 

“No... I cant,” the way that the words fell out sounded about as convincing as a disguise with groucho glasses. You could really go for a drink right about now.

He looked to you a bit sadly, if not disappointed, “Y/N if this is about your diet… I am just saying, I don’t think one day will hurt too much.”

“No, I really shouldn't.” Understatement of the century. 

Izuku grabbed two glasses out of your cupboard with a soft smile gracing his features, “We’ll pour you just a little bit in case you change your mind—”

Maybe one glass wouldn't hurt... No. NO! God, you knew he meant well, but he is really fucking making this hard for you!! “I cant, I’m pregnant!!” you suddenly yelled. He immediately froze, 

“Wha...?”

“I’m pregnant...”

“Oh... Uhhh congratulations,” the most unconvincing thing to have ever come out of his mouth probably, “Who…”

“I don’t know,” the look of utter horror on his face had you instantly backtracking your answer, “Well—let me rephrase that. I do know who it is, but I don’t know his name. It was a umm.. ‘Wam. Bam. Thank you ma’am’ type deal.” Your face began burning as hot blood rushed into your cheeks. You literally couldn't have phrased that worse if you tried. What the hell was wrong with you? 

“You don’t look pregnant...” the horror on his face now registered into your mind as pure shock. 

“I sure as hell would hope not. I am like a month-ish along—I think.”

“You haven’t been to the doctor?”

“Uhh no...” He was right, you didn't even look pregnant. There was no way in hell that you needed to go to the doctor yet. Right?

“W-wait! Y/N the night we met! You were drinking alcohol!”

“So? I am probably only like a few weeks pregnant and I drank like two glasses. I am sure it didn’t do anything…?”

“Are you really sure? How can you know!? You have to go see a doctor!” he looked terrified. It was as if he suddenly was the embodiment every stressed emotion that you had been shoving away from you these past few weeks and the sight scared you. 

“You’re freaking me out, Deku.”

He instantly froze, “S-sorry,” he looked down to his shoes. Maybe you just might let him pour those drinks after all. He looked like he could use both of them right about now...

The next week dragged on for what felt like eons, as Izuku seemed to cautiously dance around the topic of your “preexisting condition.” It was quite obvious that every time the topic came up, a cloud of discomfort would come and sit on his shoulders; however, the man still made it a point to urge the fact that you needed to set up a doctor’s appointment.

Eventually, you caved in and scheduled for one at a local clinic, but they couldn't get you in for a few weeks anyway-- the joint was at maximum capacity, you guessed?  Apparently, there were more pregnant bitches waddling around than you thought.

Still, Deku urged you to read up and research some things prior to your appointment so that you could ask the doctor any questions that might pop up. It seemed like he was almost way too into this-- taking notes in a composition notepad that he dubbed “Baby Notes Vol 1″ and even mentioning coming along with you to your clinic visit.

It made things extremely real. 

Your little safe space with Deku had effectively been conquered and subjugated by the little parasite that took residence in your body. You shook your shoulders with a sigh as you neared Deku’s door for the party. 

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK* 

When the door opened you couldn't help the way that your eyebrows flew up in surprise at the sight of a woman opening the door. Uhh... did you go to the wrong house?

The brown haired girl in front of you looked just as surprised as you-- if not even more so. 

Okay, you definitely went to the wrong house.

The sudden sound of Izuku’s voice coming deep from withing the apartment led you to breath easy. You deflated a little bit as you relaxed. You wouldn't have to make a mad dash in a lagged game of ‘ding dong ditch’ after all,  “Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.”

A series of emotions flashed across her expression at your greeting: shocked, nervous, then... disappointed? “Y/N! I’ve heard... so so much about you!” the smile that stretched across her lips seemed almost painful, “I’m Ochako Uraraka! I... love your hair!” she threw out the last part like a rabbit would throw steak to wolves. 

“Thank’s...” you felt fucking awkward and she still hasn’t let you into the apartment, “I’ll make sure to thank the stylist and the bottle of dye she used.”

“That’s not your real hair color? It looks so healthy though!” she seemed heartbroken as she used a pitying tone and you could gauge that the pity was not for yourself. 

“Nah. My agency pretty much determines what hairstyles I wear...”  You made eye contact with Deku inside of the house as he made his way to the door... Thank god! you were saved from that terribly awkward interaction.

“Agency? Hero agency?”

“Modeling, actually. I’m not that badass,” you smirked before walking into the party.

Her figure deflated as if to say, ‘of fucking course’, “Oh. That’s cool!” You didn’t see much of Uraraka after that 

Meanwhile, Bakugou was just a tick away from being angry enough to kill. His roommates had all three convinced him to go to this get together over Deku’s house and they weren't even going to be there on time! 

He had honestly never been to a party with these losers without at least Shitty Hair being with him, so he wasn’t exactly sure how it would pan out and that really bothered him. He wasn’t exactly social at these events, but at least the three stooges kept him somewhat entertained (he would never admit this aloud).

What could those other losers possible do to entertain him?

“Whyyyyyyy?” he heard crying as he neared Deku’s home. His face scrunched in on itself even further than usual as he approached the whining noise. He scoffed at the inebriated mess in front of him,

“What the hell are you doing, round face?”

Uraraka, who was leaning against the edge of Izuku’s front patio looked up, causing Bakugou to deeply grimace at the germy snot that trailed down her red face, “Deku’s new girlfriend sure is cool. He deserves someone like her, right? She’s perfect!” Bakugou couldn't help the way that his face shriveled into itself in disgust. 

It wasn't too late. He could still turn around and go the fuck home and no one would even know he was here. Well, save for bubble cheeks here, but she probably wouldn't even remember to be honest. 

But as soon as Bakugou turned back around to make his escape Uraraka spoke up again, “She’s a model. They met at the Red Sneakers Event apparently,” Of course this piqued the man’s interest. There were only a few models branding the event and he just so happened to be searching for one of them. Uraraka continued with her drooling of words as Bakugou brushed past her and made his way into the house-- not bothering to knock,

“You know I am the one who gave him that idea in the first place? It’s kinda like. I set him up with his future wife!” she drunkenly cried to no one in particular as Bakugou stormed away.

He passed Iida on his way in, “Go get round face and shut her drunk ass up-- she’s outside,” he didn't bother on stopping to further explain before walking back to the commotion of the party.

 As soon as he entered the packed room, his eyes landed on you. It was like the Red Sneakers Event all over again. You were simply glowing-- hard to miss-- especially with the crowd of his old classmates hovering around you like some damn flies on shit-- especially Deku. He was way too close to you-- the rat bastard. 

“Oooh! You’ve been to Milan! That’s so cool, girl! So you must get to sight-see like a lot!”

The way that your shoulders leaned and swayed as you talked sent flutters into Bakugou’s heart. Fucking gross. He watched you speak very intently-- searching for the magic you had used to bewitch him, “Actually I was working a lot when I was there, so I really only got to see the sets and runways,” you made fleeting eye contact with him from across the room, furrowing your eye brows a bit at his stare before breaking the gaze. 

“Do you get to keep the outfits after the shoots?!”

“Pfft. Hell no! This loser still hasn’t sent me a pair of his red shoes. What happened to helping the quirkless, huh, broccoli boi?” The most primal urge of jealousy that Bakugou had ever felt sprinted through his body as you leaned over to playfully tap that shitty Deku in the arm. The feeling was so intense that he hadn’t even registered what you had said fully. 

“You’re quirkless?” Racoon Eyes inquired, snapping Bakugou out of his feral trance. His face fell a bit as he dutifully awaited your answer. 

“Yeah. It’s whatever,” you shrugged.

“The competition must be so difficult!” Momo spoke up as she placed and apologetic hand to her chest. The gesture made you tense up a bit, but you reminded yourself that she probably didn't mean it in a belittling way as she continued,  “I’ve been to a few magazine shoots myself and it is always girls with flashy quirks who end up in front and center!”

“Well, I compete well, I guess,” you knew that hero hero modeling and your fashion modelling were two completely different worlds. Designers saw you guys mostly as clothing racks and mannequins for their clothes, so usually they wanted their models to be as mundane as possible-- not to distract from their fabric art. So basically the perfect job for someone like you, “it’s no big deal. I get by like everybody else.”

“You just live your life like normal!”

“Awhhhh. Y/N. You’re an inspiration!”

Suddenly you felt extremely tired. You couldn't find the energy within  yourself to filter out and soften your next response, “Glad I could inspire you just by breathing I guess.” you gave the girls a slight smile as you shrugged, but the undertone of your comment had not gone unnoticed-- especially by Bakugou who found himself stifling a proud smirk.

You once again made eye contact with him in this moment-- this time not daring to backtrack your gaze until he did-- a warning sign to back he hell off with that staring shit.

As the night progressed you found yourself becoming more and more tired. The debilitating sense of sudden fatigue actually felt like it had taken over even your bones at this point as the aching structures weighed heavily inside of you skin. You decided after about an hour that you were gonna make an early trip back home.

“What, why!?” Deku scanned your face nervously-- he thought you had been having fun!

“Just really damn tired suddenly.”

“Oh...” he trailed off, but suddenly realized the hidden context of your words. Baby Notes vol 1 page 4 section 3: ‘prenatal fatigue’, “Ohhhhh okay! Right! Well Let me call you a taxi or something.”

“Nahh, I’ll walk,” you waved him off as you made your journey toward small crowds of his friends-- waving them goodbye. Deku followed you in your path around his house, 

“W-what? You can’t be serious! You shouldn’t do that!”

You turned around and threw your hand on his shoulder, causing him to instantly freeze up, “I’ll be fine,” you smirked throwing your hand up to his cheek to gently pat his face. Of course, he was left a shivering, blushing mess. It was a low blow, but, hey, it gave you a good opportunity to escape. 

You felt a wave of relief as soon as you made it a few steps outside of the apartment. You released a heavy sigh as you continued walking away. 

Finally. You internally planned the rest of the night in your head: orange juice, Netflix and sleeeep. You could finally just let yourself relax and--

“HEY!” you jumped out of your skin a little at the sudden loud shout. You whipped around to see that blond spikey-haired dude from Deku’s house attempting to close in on you. 

You rolled your eyes as he neared. Hardly throwing him a glance as he approached you to walk a little behind you, “God. You’re the weirdo that was staring at me all night,” you groaned, hoping he would catch your drift. 

“We need to talk!” 

One of you eyebrows instantly quirked up as your lips curled into a look of disgust. You whipped back around towards him, “Look, I am actually tired as hell, so excuse me for my bluntness, but FUCK OFF!” You only caught a glimpse of his flabbergasted expression before you spun back around to storm down the stairs entering the subway. 

“You really don’t know me?” he sounded pissed. 

That’s when it hit you. 

“Oh! it’s you!” you snapped your fingers at the sudden realization, 

“You’re Kacchan!” the look of disgust that hardened on his face intensified by ten fold when he heard you use that nickname. You continued regardless as you neared the train platform, “The asshole bully who likes to pick on quirkless kids. Yeah, well, I don’t give a damn how great you think you are, buddy. You can really fuck off now!” you spun once more to ditch him; however this time around your ankle twisted from underneath you, causing your body to fall down toward the ledge of the platform where underneath the tracks resided.

Bakugou cried out something like ‘you idiot!’ before grabbing you by the waist and yanking you into him before you could completely fall down the ledge. Everything happened so quickly that you hadn't even realized that you were holding your breath until you gasped heavily into his chest.

With a shocked expression you trailed up his neck to his face until you were met with his vermilion eyes, “Shit…” suddenly a wave of familiarity crashed into you. you breathed deeply, “I-It’s you...”

[sakuric]

metanoia; a choice to be made.

masterlist | next

wc; 991

summary; with the topic of their wedding being talked about within the walls of the castle, y/n finds themself falling deeper and deeper involved with a non-royalty. the king and queen already started planning a wedding on their birthday. it boiled y/n's blood to think of forcing someone to fall in love. (this was a bad summary of the chapter uhh)

pairing; tsukishima kei x reader

the castle halls echoed with much sound from the maids and other residents blabbering. the reason why was still unknown, to y/n atleast. they quickly strutted down the long castle halls to the main hall where the queen and king were discussing an important matter. their child hadn't found love yet.

ah yes, the all-well-known tale of the curse of love, where if an individual does not marry until the age of eighteen, they're cursed until the end of their days with the 'witch queen of heartbreak.' y/n had heard that story a while ago, back when their age was just a number, and not a matter of love or curse.

"mother, father," y/n bowed. "why is there a fuss being made in the halls?" y/n's voice as stern as ever, their posture as straight as can be. the whole town would be lying if they said they hadn't fallen in love with the young royalty. y/n's mailbox has been flooded with love letters, and some have even sent dove's to y/n's bedroom window as a sign of their never-ending love.

y/n denied those offers of course. in the town they live in, there wasn't a particular someone who caught their eye, other than the young, blonde knight who stood at their bedroom door. his face was always serious, and his deep, golden eyes put y/n in a trance every time they locked.

"well," the queen started, "your birthday is in two weeks, everyone is wondering whether you have found a partner or not. you know what happens if you don't marry until eighteen." the mother's voice was pierced with the strongest of rushes. both her and the king wanted their only child to marry happily. and since their child is nearly eighteen, the worry was even higher.

"well, your highness, i have already given my insight about this marriage... fuss." y/n's placed their arms on their hips. "i do not wish to marry."

"that means we'll have to find a partner for you."

y/n hadn't thought about that. the parents, specifically royal parents, choose their childrens partner if they cannot choose themselves. which was totally unfair to y/n. you can't force someone to fall in love. it all comes on it's own. y/n's blood was boiling and in no time they were stomping down the hall back to their bedroom. the queen and king scoffed, disappointed at their child's behaviour.

"did anyone come to see me?" y/n asked the blonde guard. "no." he mumbled. it wasn't allowed for the knights/guards to hold any conversation with the royalty, other than the necessary topics. y/n sighed, eyeing the blonde guard up and down, and seeing his posture not twitch a bit.

"don't you get hungry?"

"no."

"you must be really skinny..."

"no."

"here," y/n quickly ran into their room to grab something. they came back with a biscuit and a small cup of tea. "have this."

the guard's gaze looked down at y/n and then at what they were holding. the offer was really tempting, and considering it was the royal child of the kind and queen, it was really flattering. but as the duty of guards, you mustn't take anything from the royals.

"your highness, i do not wish to be rude, but i deny your offer. i apologise." the guard spoke in monotone, restoring his vision back towards the wall infront of him.

"ugh," the royal spoke, as they took a bite of the biscuit. "you're no fun, mr.guard."

with that, the young royal stepped into their room, leaving the guard blushing.

the evening chased the sun away as y/n contemplated about their life. was it already planned since the day they were born? apparently the royal family had a meeting at the moment, to which y/n was late.

"that was very disrespectful, especially for a royal like you," the queen mumbled to y/n, behind a napkin. y/n just rolled their eyes and asked;

"so? why are we holding a meeting? did anything urgent happen?"

"we are discussing your wedding."

"my what?"

"your wedding." the king spoke before fixing his cloak. y/n's eyes scanned the room, looking for an escape. the guard was there too, as the king ordered him to always follow y/n, in case they decided to do something insane.

"how many times do i have to tell you," y/n sighed, massaging their temples. "i am not getting married."

"well you have to!" the queen couldn't keep her posture anymore as she raised her voice. "i don't want to hear any denial from you. you're getting married in two weeks and we already chose who it'll be."

y/n furiously stood up, throwing their napkin on the table before stomping away. the guard didn't know what to do so he followed y/n. they ended up in the royal garden.

"your highness, may i assist with anything?"

"no, you can go back to my room and guard the door or whatever..." y/n sighed, resting their chin on the palm of their posed up hand. the guard didn't do as told, which was unusual, but he knew that y/n wasn't in the right mindset to be alone. the guard sat down beside y/n.

"i said go."

"no."

"back with the one word answers," y/n laughed. "what's your name?"

"tsukishima kei."

"mm," y/n hummed, asserting their gaze back at the garden.

a while after, they spoke;

"well, tsukishima. we should get going. it'd be a shame if someone saw you, a guard, talking to royalty."

those words weren't meant to come out as mean as they did, but the guard showed no emotion even if it hurt him deeply. the forbidden love wasn't meant to bloom, not for them at-least.

the guard assisted y/n back to their room.

"goodnight, tsukishima."

"goodnight, your highness."

taglist; @yeonayona @seijohlogy @elixhirs @mel-goes-unknown

(decided to add people who rb to the taglist too)